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"The Locker Shock Incident "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: R Warnings: language, yaoi, violence Summary: Post EW Preventers. Maxwell undertakes a death defying shuttle flight to destroy a killer's alibi on behalf of Yuy's case. Merquise feels an unaccountable urge to protect Duo. When the assassin comes stalking, will the combined skills of Zechs and Heero be enough to save 02 from the deadly blade? Pairings: 1x2, 6+1+2
"The Locker Shock Incident " Part 6. "I thought Dr. Po told you to get some rest." Peacecraft had just arrived at Yuy and Maxwell's temporary quarters, to find Heero in full uniform, heading out of the room. The boy gingerly stooped in the doorway to collect something from the floor. "Sir. Would you like to come in?" "Thank you." Peacecraft took the one desk chair, and Yuy settled upon his bunk, opening the package he had just retrieved from the hallway. Zechs recognized the fancy little box. Recently, it had been resting upon Une's desk. "Chocolate?" Heero offered. They were handmade chocolates from an old, renowned Sanq confectioners' establishment near Peacecraft's boyhood home. His destroyed, but now rebuilt home. Somehow the candy shop had survived, relatively unscathed, all those years of chaos and war. A wave of bittersweet nostalgia swept over the young man. "Yes, thank you." Peacecraft reached toward the display of sweets. There were various forms, elaborate florals alternating with toy shapes and teddy bears. "If you don't mind, take one of the bears. Maxwell wont eat those. He says they pout at him and make him feel guilty." Peacecraft chuckled sympathetically, and selected one of the bears. Une was good, very very good at this little game. Zechs gave his superior officer full points for excellent strategic initiative. Her gift forced Heero away from his inclination of self sacrifice, his urge to feed Duo, and into enjoying his share of the chocolate, all with a clear conscience. Peacecraft eyed his man carefully. He studied the angry line of congealed blood and delicate suture work on the boy's forehead, the contusion underlying the tousled hair. Swollen purple bruising had migrated and now included a rather puffy looking eye. "How are you feeling?" "Better. The headache has subsided somewhat. I was just going in search of Maxwell. I must have been sleeping more soundly than usual when he left. I suspect Commander Po of having drugged me. Her stealth skills are impressive." Peacecraft's feet rested upon the comforting thick warmth of the Persian carpet. Its rich colors leant an air of home to the otherwise stark barracks. He smiled at the wonderful work of art, the aura of mysterious places and marvelous secrets it offered to the imagination. "You've figured it all out rather quickly," Yuy declared. "I had quite a bit of friendly advice," Peacecraft demurred. "Po, Une, yourself." Yuy's glance lingered on Maxwell's slightly rumpled bedding. He could tell the other had not slept. "Do you know, no matter the season, no matter the ambient temperature? Duo always sleeps with the covers wrapped as close to his head as possible. To keep vermin from crawling into his ears during the night." Peacecraft frowned. "Every contemplated gift seems to have two aspects. The one that might give pleasure to him. And the other that might remind him of privation. Of having gone without for so long." Yuy nodded his head. "I've seen him awaken from a nightmare, screaming. Absolutely silently. As if his vocal cords were consciously paralyzed when he sleeps. It seems physiologically impossible. Commander Po would like to get sleep EEGs on him. She wont ask him, however." The two stared down at the intricate patterns in the rug. "I would like to go backward in time," Peacecraft confessed. "It is the same path," Yuy nodded recognition of the road he had traversed. "To go back, to be there. To rescue him. You'd like to, but you can't," Zechs stated analytically. "He already rescued himself. All on his own." "And what a magnificent job he made of it." "They've approved his flight, haven't they?" Yuy finally, reluctantly asked. "Yes." "I could fly in his place," the boy offered. "In what way would that be an improvement? Your risking your neck, instead of Maxwell risking his?" Peacecraft snarled. Clearly Yuy considered himself a disposable commodity, and it angered his Commander. "It's cowardly. My desire not to be the one left alone." Peacecraft smiled. "You would be missed. There would be a gaping hole in our midst. A silently contemplative, wryly calculating gap, no doubt. But still, an appreciable and much regretted gap." The Commander abruptly stood. "I must go find our young rapscallion." Before following, Yuy placed the box of chocolates on Duo's bunk, minus two teddy bears.
Yuy stepped defensively in front of his CO as he scanned the room. There was Maxwell, perched upon his good leg, favoring the one with the cast upon a folded mat. His arms were a street fighter's flurry. His flesh gleamed with sweat, beads of it dripping down to salt the oozing abrasions at his elbows and knees. As he beat it, the youngster glared at the hanging bag as if it represented all of his enemies, long term and recent alike. He pummeled the furiously mobile target with his angry fists, pounding his mania to oblivion. On a nearby treadmill, Agent Brexten jogged at a leisurely pace. His stare was riveted upon Maxwell in a predatory mask. Yuy darted toward Maxwell, grabbed him, and dragged him to the door, before Peacecraft could make a move toward Brexten. "Commander. Are we good to go?" Duo grinned up at Zechs. "Approval on all fronts," Peacecraft nodded somberly. "Excellent!" Duo crowed cheerfully, swiping at the wild disorder of his drenched bangs with the back of his hand. Zechs grasped the boy's wrist, and unwrapped the gauze from his hand. The deeper layers of bandage were rather gory. The Commander "tsked" audibly. "Just venting a lil' steam," Maxwell shrugged, flexing and stretching his lacerated palm. "Commander Po said she got all the glass splinters out. And it didn't need stitches. How's the headache?" he strategically diverted medical attention toward Yuy. "Okay. We had better clean and rewrap that," Yuy stated, adamantly refusing the diversion. "Commander." In disbelief, Yuy eyed Brexten, who seemed utterly unwilling to let well enough alone. The burly agent stepped right into the circle. "Sir. I'd like to volunteer for crowd control on L2. Sounds like Maxwell's going to need it for his little display. I heard all about the Maelaport case. Emails from agents I know under Dickerson's command." Peacecraft glared icily at Brexten. After a minute, he said, "I'll bear it in mind." He pivoted abruptly. "Yuy, Maxwell, you're with me." "Do that," Brexten muttered under his breath at the departing figure. "Bear it in mind, sir," he jeered in imitation of Peacecraft's patrician accent. "You just do that." ~ * ~
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