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"The Academy"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Warnings: AU (sort of), yaoi, swearing (lots), some OOC (probably), some violence Pairings: 1X2, 3X4, developing 5X6 A/N: I decided to start off with Duo’s point of view again, since “Boot Camp” began and ended with it. And for anyone looking at this who hasn’t read “Boot Camp,” you probably should. They’ll stand alone; but the background material really will help. Rating: R Summary: Sequel to Boot Camp...four juvenile delinquents enter the prestigious MSC Academy, where they'll encounter new challenges, new friends, and new enemies, as well as learn more about themselves and their own relationships.
"The Academy" Chapter Four: Beginnings “They look good, Chang,” Major Merquise commented as they walked together towards their offices. “The recruits in general—or are you talking about anyone specific?” “Yuy’s team, as well as the other boys from Peacecraft,” replied Zechs, glancing at Wufei’s pensive face. Wufei nodded. “They do, don’t they?” The Major’s face sobered to match that of his subordinate. “Sorry they passed boot camp?” Wufei looked up sharply. “Why do you ask that?” “Because in all likelihood they’ll end up in the middle of a civil war when they finish this training program…if not sooner.” The Chinese man looked down at the ground as they walked. “I could wish for better things for those boys,” he said with a shrug. “Boys?” Merquise said quietly. “Chang, you’re only three years older than they are,” he pointed out. “Aye, but I’m a bit more experienced in survival.” “Don’t sell them short. Didn’t you suggest that Maxwell’s street smarts were as valuable as months of training would be to someone who never had to steal to survive?” “I did. And I do believe that those who’ve had to fend for themselves are more resourceful than those who’ve had things handed to them. I just wonder if that’s enough.” He gave his comrade a wan smile. “Don’t mind me, Zechs. It’s just that your speech brought home to me that those young men might face a very bleak future.” “Not as bleak as prison,” Merquise reminded him. “True.” Wufei brightened perceptibly at that. “Very true,” he added, recalling how horrible the warden of the juvenile facility had been. Treize Kushrenada had been in charge of security at Camp Peacecraft, while Captain Chang and his soldiers trained the juveniles incarcerated there. The stern warden had personal history with Duo that led to his coercion of Trowa into betraying the team. That betrayal had resulted in Duo’s nearly being sent off to prison on L2, and had allowed a cruel guard the opportunity to beat and rape him while he was in solitary confinement. Though the guard had been convicted and imprisoned, it didn’t undo the harm, and Wufei held himself accountable for that. He’d never forgiven himself for not seeing the depth of the warden’s hatred of Maxwell in time to prevent the whole horrible incident. His only consolation was that he’d managed to keep Duo from being sent to L2—though most of the credit went to Heero and the other boys in Team Wing for finding exculpatory evidence and delaying the prison bus long enough to allow Chang to cut the paperwork to stop the transfer. At the same time, Wufei had filed to become Duo’s legal guardian, so that he could better protect the boy until he turned eighteen, which was still a couple of months away—at least according to the arbitrary birth date assigned to the orphan when he’d first been taken in by the Maxwell Church. In spite of all that had transpired at Camp Peacecraft, Wufei did believe Duo was better off for having made it through boot camp. As pretty as the boy was, if he’d ended up in the adult prison system, he’d have endured far worse than the mistreatment Kushrenada had orchestrated. “Thinking about that gorgeous young man in a hard core prison, are you?” asked Zechs quietly. With difficulty, Wufei pulled his thoughts away from the troubling “what-if” thoughts, a bit surprised that Zechs had read him so well yet again. He even managed a weak smile. “I was.” “Well stop. You managed to avert that disaster, and if nothing else had come out of the Peacecraft Initiative, I think that one rescue would have been worth it.” Wufei’s smile widened. “Thank you, sir.” “Sir again?” They’d reached Major Merquise’s office, and he held the door open, allowing Captain Chang to go in first. “We are on duty,” Wufei reminded him a bit stiffly. Zechs pulled the door shut behind them, locking it and leaning his back against it. “How about a five-minute break, hm? You can stop calling me ‘sir,’ and tell me when I can take you out again.” Wufei hesitated, and then finally nodded, his shoulders relaxing perceptibly. “I’d—like that,” he admitted, sitting on the edge of the desk, facing his—. His what? Superior? Friend? Mentor? Boyfriend? It had only been a couple of months since Wufei began to look at Zechs Merquise as a potential love interest. Prior to that, he hadn’t seriously given thought to his sexual orientation at all—he’d just assumed he was heterosexual. But when Zechs made a slight overture, he’d begun to question himself. He knew Heero was gay—after all, they’d been friends since childhood. And he’d noticed immediately when Heero started to develop feelings for Duo. But figuring out whether Zechs was interested in him that way had been a little harder. Of course, once they wagered a dinner date against the outcome of the “capture the flag” competition at the boot camp, Wufei knew for certain that Zechs wanted to be more than friends or colleagues. And when Wufei lost the bet, he began to admit to himself that maybe it was something he wanted as well. Then when Zechs was shot by one of Kushrenada’s corrupt prison guards and came closer to dying than anyone wanted to think about, Wufei had been faced with the knowledge that he felt an attachment that went far beyond casual acquaintance. He never wanted to be without Zech’s friendship, camaraderie, support, and—well—affection. So they’d had their dinner date shortly after Zechs got out of the hospital, and since then they’d continued to take things very, very slowly. After all, having a relationship with a superior officer was strictly forbidden in the military. Had they been in a combat unit, Wufei didn’t think he’d even have considered it. But since they worked in a training facility where lives would not be placed at risk, they’d dared to continue to explore the potential. Not that they’d hopped into bed, either; instead they’d continued their solid working relationship with only a slight added intimacy. Now instead of being all business, they occasionally talked about personal things—dreams and ambitions, as well as their pasts. Ever conscious of the fact that they were very public figures in the Mobile Suit Corps, they’d been beyond discreet; they hadn’t even attempted a touch or kiss yet. But Wufei was beginning to wonder how long he could resist the temptation. The Chinese man looked searchingly at the tall, elegant blonde, his dark eyes softening as he studied the chiseled features and silken hair. “All right then…Zechs…” The way he said the name sent a perceptible shiver down the Major’s body. “…when would you like to have dinner together again? Outside the mess hall, that is,” Wufei added with a trace of a smirk. Zechs smiled back. “At your convenience,” he shrugged, stepping closer. “I thought perhaps we could take a drive to de la Lune,” he suggested, naming a five-star restaurant a couple of hours away from the Academy. “You don’t have to spend a fortune to impress me,” Wufei told him plainly. “I’ve been impressed with you since I enlisted and you became my teacher.” “I don’t want to impress you as a teacher,” Zechs replied equally plainly. “I want to impress you as a—a—.” He fumbled uneasily to a halt, and Wufei took over, standing up and taking his hands. “You’re adorable when you stutter,” he said with a hint of a teasing smirk. “Adorable enough to kiss?” asked the blonde hopefully, tugging Wufei gently towards him. “Very much so,” admitted the Chinese man, all hint of humor gone. Zechs leaned in and very gently kissed Wufei, savoring the unexpected victory as well as the taste of those slender, expressive lips. Then he pulled back, trying to read the expression on the other man’s face. Was that disgust? Delight? Confusion? Regret? Wufei smiled reassuringly, as if following the parade of doubts through Zechs’ mind. “Very nice,” he said quietly. “I think I could get to like this male-male relationship thing.” The blonde’s sigh of relief was audible. “So that’s something you might not be averse to trying again?” “I wouldn’t be averse to it at all,” Wufei admitted. “In the proper setting, at the proper time, I could get very used to it.” Zechs straightened his shoulders slightly. “I sense that my office isn’t the proper place.” “While it served well enough for a first kiss, I’m sure I’d like our second, and any subsequent ones, to be somewhere more relaxing and—intimate.” Wufei gave Zechs’ hands a light squeeze before releasing them. “We could certainly break away from the base this Saturday, couldn’t we? It’s early enough in the training session that there’s nothing on the weekend schedule.” Zechs smiled widely. “Consider it a date then. We can leave by noon and take our time seeing a few sights on the way to the restaurant. If we have an early supper, we can be back at a very reasonable hour.” Wufei smile warmly at him, grateful for his patience. While Merquise had been in homosexual relationships before, this was a first for Wufei, and he wanted—no, needed—to take things slowly. He wasn’t sure any other man would have understood, but Zechs seemed to, and his respect of Wufei’s limits was one of his most endearing qualities. “So—we’d better resume our duties now, hadn’t we?” said the Major rather brusquely, stepping around Wufei to go to his desk. “If we’re going to have a day off Saturday, we’ll need to be caught up on all our paperwork.” “Sadly, yes,” agreed the Chinese officer, inclining his head in a polite gesture before heading to the door. And if he found his fingers tracing lightly over his lips, recalling the brush of another’s while he worked at his desk all afternoon, no one was the wiser.
As focused as they were on their throws, varying the speed and distance to challenge each other, no one noticed the group of boys crossing the quadrangle until one threw a football in their direction. Catching a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye, Duo automatically ducked and sidestepped, while Austin made a quick sprint and caught the projectile, glaring over at the boy who’d thrown it. Reginald Darlian wore a decided smirk as he walked up to Austin with his fellow jocks at his heels. “Good catch,” he said graciously, holding out a hand for the ball. Austin darted a look at Duo, who shrugged off the near-miss and walked over to pick up the forgotten baseball and take his place beside Jase and Quatre. “Careful where you throw next time,” Austin said coolly. Though it had been a long time since he’d had a crush on Duo, he still didn’t like the idea of someone nearly nailing him in the head with a carelessly thrown football. “Sure,” Reginald replied, taking the proffered ball. “It got away from me.” Duo snorted to himself, not even stooping to comment on how phony the apology was. For that matter, it wasn’t even an apology at all. Austin just shook his head. “See it doesn’t happen again.” He turned to head back to Jase and the others. “Hey—wait a sec,” Reginald said quickly. He gave an apologetic smile as Austin turned back around. “That really was a good catch. You wanna play some touch football with me an’ my friends?” “I’m busy,” Austin replied, jerking his chin towards his friends. “Maybe some other time.” “Once classes and practice start there won’t be much time,” Reginald assured him. “Why not have your friends play, too? Get a few together and we can make two teams—have a little contest.” Duo’s head shot up at the word “contest,” and he looked aside at Quatre. “Man, I’d love to put that guy in his place,” he whispered to the blonde. “I’m not sure we could,” Quatre said hesitantly. “I’ve never played.” “It’s not that hard, Quat,” Duo assured him. “Just like real football, only no tackling.” Reginald apparently overheard just enough of their conversation to catch on, and threw an amused glance over his shoulder at his four friends, before turning back to them. “Hey, we’re willing to teach you the game, but if you guys are afraid to try it, no problem.” “The day any of us are afraid of you—!” Duo snapped, taking a step towards Reginald, indigo eyes flashing. Quatre caught his arm, giving a warning shake of his head. And then he turned a calm, assessing look on the football star. “Give us a few minutes to find some more players and you’re on!” Reginald’s arrogant gaze swept across them. “Good. We play out behind the dorms where there’s no benches or fountains to get in the way.” He gave Quatre an amused and condescending look. “Round up a couple more players and we’ll meet you there.” Then he and his friends were gone, and Quatre, Duo, Austin and Jase were exchanging a wary look. “Shit, Winner. What did you and Maxwell just get us into?” Austin asked with a frown. “Aw, don’t sweat it!” Duo urged. “We’ve got a secret weapon—Heero Yuy!” “True,” Quatre conceded. “I have yet to see something he doesn’t excel at.” “And this will be no exception,” Duo insisted, warming to the idea of soundly beating Reginald and his buddies. “C’mon, guys. Let’s round up our fearless leader and scrounge together a team.”
“I date you, Duo,” Heero said just quietly enough to keep it between them. “I think that’s enough to prove I have a sense of adventure.” “Or a death wish,” Trowa quipped. Quatre giggled, and then hastily tried to stifle it as Duo shot him a look. But Duo quickly focused his attention back on his boyfriend. “Heeeeero—why don’t you want to play touch football? There’s enough of us for half a team, and if we need more I’ll bet Rev’s got a few friends who’d join in. We could mop up the field with Reggie-boy and his pals.” “Really?” Heero asked coolly. “Have you done any research around here at all, Maxwell?” “Research?” “Yes. Reggie-boy, as you so quaintly call him, is the quarterback of the football team. He’s got a record-setting throwing arm, every girl in the WMSC Academy after him, and top grades.” Duo blinked, and then smirked. “Soooo—?” he drawled in an unimpressed tone. “So?” echoed Heero, shaking his head. “So he’ll probably mop up the field with you and any poor fools you sucker into joining your ill-fated team.” Indigo eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you saying you won’t be one of the poor fools I sucker into joining my ‘ill-fated’ team?” “Exactly.” They had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, face to face, with Jase, Austin, Quatre and Trowa spread out behind them, watching to see how the little drama played out. Duo inched closer to Heero, holding his gaze. “Fine then. Don’t,” he challenged. “But you’ll get none of the credit when we win.” “Fine.” “And none of anything else—if you catch my drift.” Heero’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Are you threatening—?” Duo leaned in close. “—to shut you off? Um, yes!” The Prussian blue eyes narrowed in response. “I don’t respond well to threats, Maxwell.” “How about promises?” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” “Oh, but I can.” Heero put his lips next to Duo’s ear, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. “Really, Maxwell? Why, only a couple of hours ago you were practically panting at my feet. Do you seriously expect me to believe you’re not lusting after me right this minute? Or that you could control that lust long enough to make me come crawling?” Oh, crawling…now that was an interesting mental image… “I-I’m just sayin’,” Duo said in a suddenly-hoarse voice. He drew back, his eyes half-lidded and dark with lust. “I want you to—to—.” “—to play touch—football?” Heero finished for him, smirking triumphantly at his stammering lover. “Uh—yeah,” Duo managed a bit breathlessly. “I will on one condition,” the Japanese boy said. He’d kept his voice deliberately low throughout the exchange, making sure it wouldn’t reach beyond Duo’s ears. “You never, ever again threaten to withhold sex to coerce me into anything.” Duo blinked at him, frowning slightly. While, on the surface, it appeared he’d won his objective, he had a feeling he’d still been bested. And that feeling was confirmed at Heero’s next words. “I love you, Duo. I’d never deny you any form of affection as a means to get my own way about something.” Duo hung his head remorsefully, wanting to throw his arms around Heero, but well aware of how public a place they were in. “Sorry, ‘Ro,” he whispered with genuine regret. “I-I just meant it as a joke—but then you started making a challenge out of it, and—.” He shrugged slightly. “I got a little carried away. But you’re right; I shouldn’t use that as leverage—ever. And I won’t. I promise.” Heero smiled so warmly that Duo could practically bask in it. “Well then, shall we go round up a few more players and prepare to get our asses kicked?” The last sentence had been loud enough to include the rest of the group, and Jase gave little cheer of victory…until all five of his companions turned stern gazes to him. “Carroll, you are so sitting this out!” Duo insisted. “I am damn sure the doc hasn’t cleared you for sports yet.” Austin grinned, elbowing Jase chidingly. “He’s right, Jase. You know your knee isn’t up for that kind of activity. You’re gonna have to settle for being our cheering section.” The hazel-eyed boy sighed and nodded, realizing none of his friends would allow him to risk it. “Buncha mother hens,” he muttered under his breath as they resumed their trek towards the field. Quatre jogged up beside Heero, grinning at the team leader. “So, any big strategy plans yet, Yuy?” Heero snorted wryly. “Yeah. I’d like us not to embarrass ourselves too much. Is that enough to hope for?” “I think we can manage that,” Quatre said firmly. “Would you like to know how?” “Do tell.” Quatre outlined his game plan as they walked; Heero was their “power player,” and the one with the accuracy and speed to act as quarterback. Trowa had proven himself the fastest of the group back in boot camp—so he’d be a perfect candidate to run the ball places. Duo made up for in lithe grace what he lacked in bulk—so he’d be great to pass to. And as for himself, Quatre knew he could quickly size up the opposition and come up with plays to exploit their weaknesses. “And Austin—,” he said, eyeing the green-eyed boy. “You’ve got the size and speed to run some interference.” Austin nodded. “Not a problem, Winner. So our main strategy is gonna be to get Maxwell and Barton clear to run the ball?” “Yes. And when I see who else we get on our team, I can adjust the plan for their skills as well,” Quatre said with confidence. Duo slung an arm over the blonde’s shoulders. “God, I’m glad I hooked up with you, buddy! You are definitely the brains of this outfit sometimes.” He gave Heero and Trowa quick, reassuring looks. “Not that you two aren’t smart, too—but you’ve got to admit, Quatre’s like some ‘Master of Strategy’ when it comes right down to it.” Trowa gave a small cough, leaning close enough to whisper something in Quatre’s ear about what else he excelled at, that made the blonde blush scarlet. “Trowa!” The former circus performer grinned unrepentantly. “Well it’s true,” he said, not offering anyone else an explanation. “But—sheesh!” Quatre muttered, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Tell me later,” Duo urged Quatre, peeking slyly over his head at Trowa, who smirked inscrutably.
“Sure did.” Quatre gestured at his companions. “We got five so far…should we round up one or two more?” “Five’s fine,” shrugged the football star, his gaze coming to rest on Duo. “But I guess four-and-a-half will have to do.” Duo narrowed his expressive eyes, opening his mouth for a scathing retort. But Heero stepped between him and his objective. “I’m Heero Yuy. And you are—?” “Reginald Darlian,” said the tall boy, with a touch of arrogance in his voice. Heero nodded once, giving no sign that he was at all impressed. “My friends here are Duo, Quatre, Trowa, Jase and Austin.” Reginald introduced his companions as Marco, Vance, Tony and Scott. Then he eyed Heero, clearly realizing he was the leader of the other group. “So, you want to flip for who gets the ball first?” “Sure.” They quickly outlined the game rules; the area they had chosen was a field just behind the dorms, where there were no benches or plantings that might get damaged or interfere with their play. Figuring they didn’t want to spend their entire afternoon at the game, they decided to play for two hours or until one team reached ten touchdowns. Both teams agreed on Jase as the referee, and that a two-handed touch would constitute a tackle; so within about fifteen minutes of meeting, they were lined up for a kickoff. Having won the toss, Reginald’s team had first possession, and from the moment the ball sailed into the air, the boys from Camp Peacecraft knew they were outclassed. Reginald and his teammates had obviously been playing football together for a long time. They were all quick on their feet, in great shape, and clearly knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Not that the other boys were any less used to working as a team, but the game was new to them, and therefore they quickly fell behind by a touchdown. “Well shit,” Duo muttered as they went into a quick huddle to figure out the next play. “These guys are good.” Heero rolled his eyes. “You knew that, baka!” “More or less,” grumbled the braided boy. “We’re not going to beat them by conventional means,” Quatre pointed out. “Duo—I noticed Reginald’s blockers weren’t taking you seriously. We need to get you into position for a pass. Trowa, they were all over you, so you’ll have to draw them off Duo. And Austin…stick to Marco. He was the fastest of them.” “What about Reginald?” “I’ll cover him,” Heero cut in quickly. “He’s a quarterback. Offense may come easy to him—but defense is another thing all together. Until we know how well he plays it, I’ll stick close to him.” “But not too close,” Duo said quietly, darting his lover a vaguely jealous look. Heero just snorted, shook his head, and jogged over to get the ball for the next play. Now that they had possession of the ball, the boys from boot camp had no intention of being beaten. Austin snapped it to Heero, who dodged Marco and Vance, and faded back to look for an opening to pass. Duo sprinted down one sideline, Tony hot on his heels, while Trowa wove his way past Scott and doubled back into the open. Heero’s throw sent the ball spinning straight at the auburn-haired boy. And it would have connected if Reginald hadn’t made a spectacular leap that allowed his fingers to just brush the football and send it out of bounds. Heero just shook his head again, wondering how he’d let Duo talk him into such an exercise in futility. As they were lining up for the next play, Quatre glanced at Heero. “Remember who to pass to, Heero. They’ve got too much coverage on Trowa.” Nodding once to show he understood, Heero got into position for the snap. And once again, Austin unerringly flipped the ball to the Japanese boy, and sprinted forward to act as interference for Duo so the braided boy could get clear. This time Heero faked a pass to Trowa, and then threw to Duo, who caught the ball only to stumble as he landed, giving Reginald time to make the “tackle.” The broad-shouldered quarterback grinned smugly at the dirty look the braided boy gave him. “Welcome to my world, Maxwell.” “We made a first down,” Duo reminded him with a scowl, tossing the ball back to Heero as they gathered for the next play. “And last,” Reginald taunted, trotting back to his teammates. From then on, the game got a little more intense, as Heero’s team managed to make a touchdown and Reginald’s team took it as a personal affront. After over an hour of nearly non-stop play, both groups were scuffed and sweaty—having tripped, fallen, collided, and crashed in their zealousness. No one was being deliberately rough, but in their eagerness to win, all ten boys seemed to have forgotten about personal discomfort, and had thrown themselves into the game as if their lives depended on it. With Reginald’s team ahead by three, and the score at nine to six, they took a time out to let everyone catch their breath. “We’re so fucked,” Duo breathed wearily, sinking down onto the grass beside Jase. “There’s no way we’re gonna make back three points, let alone a fourth to win. Not against those guys.” “Might I remind you that you were the one who wanted to ‘mop up the field’ with ‘Reggie-boy and his pals?’” Heero said snidely. Duo glanced over at the other team, idly using the edge of his sleeve to mop the sweat from his face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he muttered grudgingly. Trowa gave a short laugh. “That should be your catch-phrase, Maxwell.” “It is,” Heero threw in rather bitterly. “Hey—we’re getting some good exercise, and lots of fresh air and sunshine,” Quatre pointed out. “That’s the main thing.” “Not for Duo.” Heero stood looking down at his lover with a slight frown. “You really wanted to prove something to Darlian, didn’t you?” Duo shrugged. “He’s an asshole is all. I’d have liked to take him down a notch.” Heero shook his head. “Then next time don’t play his game. Make him play yours.” The braided boy looked up and smiled rather wanly. “Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “But Quat’s right. We are getting a pretty good workout.” “You’ll feel it tomorrow,” Heero predicted, noticing the grass stains on Duo’s knees and elbows. “I feel it now,” Quatre admitted, dabbing at a scraped knee. Duo groaned and pushed himself back up to his feet. “I dunno about you guys—but I guess I’d like to get this over with.” When they took the field again, Heero and his teammates had possession of the ball, and hoped to close up the gap in scores. With that in mind, they tried once again to outmaneuver Reginald’s skilled players. For some reason, Reginald had taken to dogging Duo’s every step, making sure the boy from L2 never got to complete a pass from Heero, and so Quatre was the one to receive the throw. He nearly made it to the end zone, except that Marco slipped past Austin and tagged him short of the goal. “Okay,” Heero said in the huddle. “That got us a few yards. We’ll try the same thing again.” Austin nodded. “Sorry Marco got past me that time, Quatre. I’ll try to keep him off you a little longer.” “How ‘bout keeping Reggie off me?” Duo muttered wearily. “That guy’s relentless.” “I’d rather have him busy covering you,” came Heero’s quick response. “This time I’ll try for Trowa—right down the center line.” They lined up again, started the play, and from the start it was clear that Reginald’s team had anticipated the shift in strategy. They dogged Trowa’s every move, and it was Duo who ended up wide open in the end zone. But as Heero made the throw, he had a sudden flash of realization. Reginald had only pretended to ignore Duo’s position, and now sprinted to intercept, snatching the ball out of midair and practically flying down the field in the opposite direction to make the winning touchdown. “Aw, fuck,” Duo muttered, slapping both hands over his face as he watched the boy he disliked so much make mincemeat of their team. The braided boy plodded dejectedly to his team leader, as did the rest of the beaten group. “I hate it when you’re right, ‘Ro,” he sighed, stopping beside his lover. Reginald turned and gave a cocky bow to his teammates, and cast a triumphant look at Heero’s weary group. There was a calculating expression on his face as he walked closer, as if he expected some sort of confrontation. Heero didn’t give it to him. Instead he gave a wry half-smile and held out a hand graciously. “Good game.” A flicker of surprise crossed Reginald’s face, and he took the proffered hand. “Yeah, you too. Not bad for a bunch of rookies.” Duo was standing half-turned away, arms crossed in front of him. He was determined not to admit that Reginald’s team was very skilled at their game. He elbowed Heero hard enough to break the handshake, and glared. “C’mon, Yuy. I wanna get back to my dorm and put stuff away.” The warning look he got from the deep blue eyes told him he was pushing at a time Heero didn’t want to be pushed. “In a sec, Maxwell.” Giving a frustrated huff, Duo stalked over and flopped down in the grass next to Jase, picking at a broken boot lace and starting to take it off, while on Jase’s other side Quatre rolled up a pant leg to examine a skinned knee. Reginald ran an appraising look over Heero. “Y’know, Yuy. You’ve got potential. Interested in trying out for the football team?” Heero raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of disbelief on his face. But he gave a wry smile. “Not really,” he shrugged. “I’m not particularly into contact sports.” Duo was too busy trying to splice his broken boot lace to make a wisecrack about Heero and “contact sports.” “Well, if your teammates protect you well enough, there’s very little contact involved,” Reginald pointed out. He gestured towards Marco and the others. “I’ve got the best defense going.” “Thanks anyway,” Heero said blandly, walking over to inspect Quatre’s injury. The blonde boy had rolled up his pant leg to reveal a messy looking wound. “You should take a walk to the med-center for ointment and a bandaid,” he suggested. “I’ll take him!” Duo volunteered, hopping to his feet. He wanted the chance to talk to his friend alone, and was hoping Trowa would take the hint. The boy from the circus gave an almost imperceptible shrug as Quatre glanced his way, and so the blonde turned back to Duo. “Okay. Let’s go.” He and the braided boy walked off together. Reginald gave a disparaging snort. “Well, now that the ‘ladies’ are gone, how ‘bout the rest of us go to the C-Club for a soda? My treat.” Curbing the impulse to stuff a boot down Reginald’s throat, Heero eyed him coldly. “What’s the C-Club?” “Cadet Club. It’s next to the Officers’ Club…serves soda and burgers and stuff. It’s a nice change from mess hall food.” One of his friends spoke up then. “Why don’t we take ‘em to The Hangar?” Reginald caught Heero’s raised eyebrow. “That’s a bar a few miles off campus. If you flash an Academy i.d. they don’t ask you to prove your age.” He gave a wry grin and a shrug. “One of the perks of a military school. They figure you’ll be putting your life on the line pretty soon, so you ought to have the right to drink.” He glanced back at his friend. “Not today, Marco. It’s late and we’ve got classes.” “The Cadet Club sounds like a good idea,” Austin spoke up, glancing at Jase for agreement. Frowning a little, and giving Reginald a resentful look for the dig he’d made at Duo and Quatre, Jase nodded slowly. “I s’pose,” he said noncommittally. “An’ how about you, Yuy? Barton?” “No,” Heero replied firmly. “I’m going back to my dorm to get ready for astrophysics tomorrow.” Reginald did a double-take at that. “You got into astrophysics? That’s a junior or senior course.” “Captain Chang had me take an entrance exam for it,” Heero shrugged, resisting the urge to smirk triumphantly. “Well I know a couple of seniors in there,” Reginald told him. “Maybe I can introduce you sometime.” “Hn,” Heero replied inscrutably. Trowa coughed to cover a grin as he observed the Japanese boy’s typically stoic response. “Uh, c’mon Heero. I’ll tag along with you until Duo and Quatre get back.” They made their escape, heading for the dorm Heero and Quatre shared. “Well, I think Darlian’s trying to make friends with you,” Trowa observed, glancing over at Heero’s brooding expression. “I fail to see why.” Trowa snorted at that. “Obviously he’s already pegged you for a winner.” “Then he’s incredibly short-sighted,” Heero commented. “He overlooked the rest of you…especially Duo and Quatre.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t trade any one of you for Reginald’s pals.” “That’s reassuring,” came the dry response. Heero scowled fleetingly. “You know what I mean. Those jocks may be great at football, and straight-A students, but I know what kind of substance you and Duo and Quatre have. Even Jase and Austin and the others would be better to have at your back than someone who’s never known what real teamwork is.” He glanced almost hesitantly at Trowa. “We shared something at boot camp that none of those spoiled rich kids could understand. I’m not saying they can’t learn to be decent soldiers—but I’d have to know them a lot better than I do to trust them in a pinch.” “I dunno, Yuy. Y’get to know ‘em better, you just might find out you trust them less, rather than more,” Trowa pointed out. “I didn’t much care for Darlian’s attitude towards Duo and Quatre.” “Like I said, he’s shallow and judgmental. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you guys at Peacecraft that each one of you had potential.” “Even Duo?” came the smirking response. “Especially Duo,” came an equally amused reply,
and then both boys settled into a companionable silence.
tbc... |
