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"The Best Laid Plans"Written By: Honor Disclaimer: Disclaimers: Not only do I own Gundam
Wing, I own beach front property in Arizona. I even own everything
Lois McMaster Bujold wrote. Rating: R Warnings: AU, sci-fi, language, violence, lemon,
death (bad guys, don’t spaz), crossover Pairings: 1x4 (maybe 4x1), 2+5 (implied) maybe
others, don’t know they haven’t told me yet Author’s Notes: The idea for this (and the
world it is set in) comes from Lois McMaster Bujold’s “Borders
of Infinity”. I can take no credit for it. And I probably wouldn’t
have written this if Quatre hadn’t popped up in my dreams and
plagued me until daybreak. Have you noticed that it’s always
Quatre who picks on me with new ideas? Why *is* that? Anyway…um…oh
yeah. I remember now. Dedicated to my kitten, Helen, who helpfully
thumped her tail against my keyboard whenever I got stuck. Sometimes
even when I wasn’t stuck. And to my two wonderful betas, Velvet
and Lucy. They did a really quick turnaround on this, and I appreciate
their patience with my impatience. *emphasized* //com or vidphone// /thought/ Summary: Admiral Quatre Winner of the Maguanac
Fleet has only one mission on Jackson's Hole. Go in, get a scientist
named Dr. G, and get out. So how does he wind up in a basement with
a sixteen-year-old supersoldier? Well, it all started when Lady Une
sent him an invitation to a private tête-à-tête... "The Best Laid Plans "
Quatre waved his hand forward, indicating that they should follow him. In absolute silence they crept up to the building, disarming security measures as they went. The structure was absolutely silent and dark. Abdul knelt and gave Quatre a boost up to the duct ten feet from the ground, allowing him to work the grilling off. Carefully he handed it down to Aida’s waiting hands, then slithered into the narrow metal duct. His soft boots made no sound as he inched his way forward, working through the passages until he could worm his way around. The next opening in the ducts faced the lock to the back door. Quatre pulled a decoder from his right breast pocket and pointed it at the electronic lock on the door. Red numbers flashed by too fast to be read, then a silent *beep*. “04 to Red team,” Quatre breathed into his mic. “Door is open.” //Roger, 04.// The door opened. And alarms blared into existence. Quatre froze. /Damn! These things weren’t in the plans!/ “Hands in the air!” Thundering feet filled the once empty hallways and in something under ten seconds Quatre’s team was surrounded. //Q?// Duo’s worried voice came over the com. //What’s wrong?// “Team is compromised,” Quatre rasped. “Oh shit!” Aida exclaimed. “Please, mister, don’t tell my CO. He’ll bust my ass down to private if he finds out about this.” Quatre’s mind, which had been rapidly forming half dozen plans on how to get his team out of this, stuttered to a halt. /…what?/ “Who are you?” A burly guard hadn’t let his vigilance relax, but he did seem somewhat willing to listen. “Aida. Look, can you just let us in? We’ve been hearing nothing but how good House Royal is ever since we heard that we were coming here. But our bastard of a captain wouldn’t give us shore leave. Can you believe that asshole?” There was a definite whine to Aida’s voice. “We don’t have enough on us to get in he front door which is why I made a bet that we could sneak in the back. Com’n[,] what harm can it do?” “You idiot!” the guard exclaimed. “This isn’t a whorehouse!” Aida’s face fell. “It isn’t? But that guy on the corner said—” Quatre’s lips parted in delight. /Aida, if this works, I’m promoting you./ “You really are green.” The guard now just sounded exasperated. “Hand over any cash and your equipment.” “But--!” “NOW.” The cash and equipment was handed over quietly. When the burly guardsman was satisfied, he handed back their cred chits. “There’s a whorehouse on the other side of town,” he told them in something that could have been a kind voice. “They’ll take cred.” “Thanks, mister.” “Don’t thank me. Just don’t pull something this stupid again.” Quatre felt like laughing as his team was herded back out of the door. He waited until the security patrol inside was gone before updating his people topside. “Aida just managed to talk his way into being kicked out. When he gets back up there, tell him I just promoted him to sergeant. The boy’s brilliant.” //What about you, Q?// “I’m going to continue since they don’t know that I’m here. Maybe this won’t be a complete loss of time.” Gods knew that security would be upped after this. It would be nearly impossible to break in later. //You are pushing your luck,// Wufei retorted. //Pull out.// “You’re such a worry-wart, Fei,” Quatre teased, moving forward again. //Losing three of my men is one thing,// Wufei snapped. //Losing my admiral is another.// “Softly, dragon.” There was some more grumbling on the other end, but everyone knew that Quatre needed to focus or he really *would* get caught. For the next twenty minutes Quatre’s world consisted of nothing but ducts, darkness, and the slight chill of reprocessed air. Finally he reached what should be the right place, and peeked through the slanted ventilation grill. Ah ha! There, before Quatre’s delighted eyes, was the main security room. One wall alone was filled with monitors, the other with computers and phones. Quatre wriggled a blow dart out of his jacket, placing it carefully between the slates. With a deep breath he blew, propelling the dart into the vulnerable neck of the lone security guard sitting in the room. Silently Quatre counted to ten before he took out a small magnetic screwdriver and undid the screws on all four corners. With a hook and wire he lowered the grill softly to the floor before catching the edges on either side and flipping himself forward and out. He landed like a cat, approaching his victim with deceptive casualness. The drug in the guard’s system was fast-penta, a truth drug of sorts. In reality, it just made whoever was injected with it very amiable to any suggestion. To Quatre’s relief, it didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on most people. “Hi.” He beamed at the guard. “Hi,” the man responded happily. “Boring night?” “Nah. Caught a couple of idiots a few minutes ago trying to break in. Thought we were a whorehouse. Funny. I’ve never heard that one before and I’ve been here nearly five years. Jace said he’s never heard it before either and he’s been here even longer—” Fast-penta victims tended to ramble unless they were directed, Quatre reminded himself. “I bet you know where everything is in this building, don’t you?” “Yup. I certainly do—” “Even that super-soldier creature they just brought in?” /Patience, Quatre./ “Of course!” The man looked astonished. “01 is in the basement.” “01?” “Yup. We call him 01. That’s what the scientists that created him called him too. He was up here in the lab, but he got kinda violent so we stuck him in the basement.” “Ah.” Fate, as it would have it, decided that Quatre had all the information he needed. The door burst open, spilling three guards into the room. Quatre quickly slapped a button on his com. It obediently fizzled into a useless combination of burnt metal and plastic, rendering it useless to anyone who might try to backtrack the signal. It would tell Duo and Wufei enough to know that something was wrong and that a rescue mission was in order as well. Quatre stayed amiable as he was shoved against the wall and quickly stripped of his equipment, his jacket and his boots. The fast-pentad security guard was watching the whole scene in bemusement, Quatre noticed, and his comrades weren’t happy with the dart they found in the back of his neck. Quatre, in amusement, saw that one of the guards was the burly one from before, the one that had let Aida, Abdul and Rashid go. He looked as if he had bitten into something sour as he looked at Quatre. /Ah, so you’ve figured it out, have you? That they were my people. Too late now, sucker./ With a last glare at the blond, the guardsman turned and quickly punched in a number. Quatre wasn’t in the least surprised when Merquise answered the ‘phone. //Yes?// “My lord, we’ve caught an intruder.” //Indeed. Let me see him.// Quatre was dragged into view, and he gave the lord a bland face. Merquise laughed out loud. //Admiral Winner, what a very unusual surprise. Stealing when you should be buying, eh?// “I *did* try to buy it first,” Quatre pointed out mildly. //So you did.// A thoughtful look flashed over his face. //Georg, why don’t you show the admiral what he wants so badly? 01 would enjoy the company, I’m sure. I’ll be down tomorrow to deal with the matter.// Quatre felt a flash of panic as an evil smile spread over Georg’s face. “Yes, my lord.” Without ceremony they carted him bodily out of the room. Quatre tried to keep track of where they were going, but it was impossible considering his position. It was rather difficult to see much of anything when one was slung over another’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes. After five eternal minutes, they stopped. Quatre knew that they were near the base of the building because they had headed down several elevators. This was not a comforting conclusion. After all, wasn’t 01 in the basement? One of the guards opened up the door, another covering him with a stunner. That stunner didn’t make Quatre’s anxiety lessen. “Hey, 01! Dinner!” /And that *really* doesn’t make me feel any better./ “Well, *admiral*, go meet your new roommate.” Quatre peered doubtfully through the open hatch. He couldn’t see a thing besides the first rung of a ladder attached to the wall. Surely Merquise’s parting words indicated that he expected to find Quatre alive the next morning. Didn’t it? “You either climb down or we shove you down,” one of them growled. /And since I have no idea how far it is to the bottom…/ Quatre sidled up to the hatch and carefully lowered himself onto the metal rungs. He went down a step at a time, the hatch closing as soon as his head was no longer in the way. /How do I get myself in these situations?/ + The air in the basement had a distinct chill to it. Quatre, jacketless and shoeless, was shivering as he clung to the ladder. He couldn’t go up, and wasn’t truly willing to go down considering what was roaming around loose in the basement. /So…where does that leave me? Clinging halfway up and halfway down, like the Grand Old Duke of York’s men?/ Either way, he had to make a decision. His muscles had frozen in position, and he was beginning to shake. Staying put wasn’t exactly an option. And since he couldn’t go up… He creaked his way down to the floor, looking cautiously around. There was nothing but pipes, columns, and the stone floor. Now that he was there, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. As far as he could tell, no one else was there. Had 01 somehow escaped…? A scuttle sounded near one of the columns. Quatre jerked around, relaxing when he saw a small pair of glowing eyes. A rat. Okay, he could handle rats. They were at least at a reasonable size and could be dealt with. Quatre barely registered movement before the rat was snatched up and broken in half. Right at that particular moment, the blond was wishing that his eyes *hadn’t* adapted to the dimness. He could make out messy brown hair, a very built body that stood around a foot taller than he and piercing blue eyes. /The Perfect Soldier…/ Hysterical laughter started to build in the base of his throat. /And if my helpful, fear-induced memory remembers correctly, G mentioned something about super reflexes and super strength. I’m in SO much trouble./ Half the rat was eaten when the creature abruptly paused, lifting his head to meet Quatre’s horrified gaze squarely. Quatre rapidly back-pedaled as 01 approached, swallowing convulsively. When his back hit the wall, he froze in place. /How does Duo always put it? ‘When your back is against the wall, start talkin’?/ Quatre’s hands dug rapidly through his pockets, latching onto a partially nibbled on ration bar that he had put away before they had touched down and which the guards had thankfully left in his pockets. He whipped it out and held it out at arm’s length. “Dessert?” It was close enough now that Quatre could clearly see that ‘it’ wasn’t an it: the body in front of him was most definitely male. He was wearing only a loose pair of green pants that reminded Quatre sharply of hospital clothes. The bar was ripped from his hand and devoured hungrily in three bites. Quatre tensed when the wrapper was dropped. His heart nearly stopped when he was grabbed by the waist and brought in close. Almost nose to nose with 01, two things made an impression. Gorgeous blue eyes; really bad breath. “Water.” The word was barely a rasp. /He speaks? Well, he’s human enough for that, definitely…/ “Uh, right. Water. Um.” Quatre twisted about, frantically searching the roof above him. There. Where the ground sloped up near the roof. “We need to go over there,” Quatre nodded to the far left, “and find a water pipe. Ah, so if you would let me down, thank you, good boy and then just follow me…” Having a 6’5” potentially lethal predator stalking behind him in a deserted basement (no witnesses, lots of places to hide a corpse) was not helping Quatre to stay calm. It took a few deep breaths—covertly taken, lest his tag-a-long suspect something—and a mentally brief, stern lecture in order to focus. “We don’t want grey, that’s sewer. Red is heat or power…ah, that’s it. The white one.” Quatre reached up, but was a good three inches too short. “I don’t suppose you could gi—eeep!” Quatre looked down at the hands once again spanning his waist, and managed a weak smile for 01. “Ah, thanks. Um, let’s see if I can get this joint loose.” He wrapped both hands around it and started tugging, but the only thing that did was chafe his hands. “Damn. I, ah, think you can do this better than I can. Super-human strength and all that.” 01 put the admiral back on the ground. But he wasn’t willing to play around with the joint. Quatre read the intent in his eyes and hurriedly scrambled out of range as he delivered a spinning kick to the pipe. There was an audible crack at impact, and water started to seep out. The admiral could only stare in dumb amazement. That pipe was made out of 3 inch aluminum, ceramic coated metal. It wasn’t supposed to be breakable even if the building collapsed on it. Under the next kick the pipe broke, water spewing in a torrid gush. It almost knocked Quatre over it was so powerful. He wound up sticking a corner of a cupped hand under the flow and sipping. 01 didn’t care. He stood under the spray directly, letting it pour into his open mouth, over his hair and face, sluicing down his body. Blood and dirt was washed away with the water, revealing clear olive skin. /Well, well. Without all the blood, he’s rather good looking./ When he finally stepped free of the water, the cold air of the basement sent an obvious shiver through him. It jerked Quatre away from his fascinated study and propelled him back into action. “Heat. Right. The red one, but let’s get away from the mini waterfall here, further up I think.” /Okay, it’s weird to have the super soldier of the century following me around like a docile puppy. Reminds me of Wufei when Duo isn’t wearing anything more than a towel around his quarters./ When they were far enough away from the water, Quatre nodded. “Here, I think.” 01 took a step back, taking up position again. Quatre caught him by the arm without thinking about it. Then he flushed and dropped the hand awkwardly. “I wouldn’t hit this one more than once. We don’t want raw heat pouring out over us.” He nodded in agreement, reared back and kicked it hard. Again the pipe cracked, heat sizzling out into the basement. Quatre watched 01, torn between amusement and worry as the other almost wrapped himself around the pipe. How long had it been since he had been warm? Eaten? “How long have you been down here?” “Five days.” The voice now was not a rasp, but a rough bass. It was soothing and pleasant on the ears. “I think.” Those sharp blue eyes looked over the blond, puzzled. “Who are you?” “Ah, we didn’t really get introductions done, did we?” Quatre much preferred this somewhat intelligent and civilized person to the wild creature he had met upon first descending from his ladder. “I’m Admiral Quatre Winner, at your service.” “Admiral?” The voice was almost doubtful. Quatre shrugged wryly. “It’s not size that counts, really. If it was, I don’t think I would have lived as long as I have. I command a mercenary group, the Maguanac Fleet.” Impulsively he sat up on his knees. “Why don’t you come with me, and join us? My captains are sure to know what’s happened by now, and will launch a rescue fairly soon.” “You did not come here to recruit me.” “Well, no,” Quatre admitted. /And I thank my lucky stars that you *don’t* know the reason why I am here./ “But I’m not one to pass up on opportunities when they come my way.” “Hn.” Quatre knew better than to push the issue. But there was no harm in finding out more information, now was there? “Why are you down here, anyway?” “I don’t like aggression tests.” “Oh.” Quatre imagined not. He could imagine that the lab assistants giving the tests weren’t too thrilled with them either, if 01 was their subject. “Why are *you* down here?” /Damn. I think I liked it better when he wasn’t talking./ “Well, I snuck into find something, and I got caught. Now I’m trying to escape. If I can, though, I’d like to sabotage on the way out.” “Sabotage?” 01 looked as if he were tasting the word out, to see how it felt in his mouth. “Right. It’s the duty of a soldier. We’re supposed to escape, sabotage, and fight. In that order.” Quatre’s head tilted. “Would you like to help?” There was too much sobriety in the look Quatre was receiving. “You might be.” Quatre blinked. “Might be what?” “A soldier.” “Ah…um.” They weren’t going to go far if 01 was going question everything that was coming out of the blond’s mouth. He was at a loss as to how to proceed until he could gain the other’s trust. “Prove it to me,” 01 commanded abruptly. “…okay. How?” “Lie with me. Like *humans* do.”
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