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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. A/N: So sorry for all the time this took. Life’s been terribly draining, and once again, I refuse to post for this story if I feel the work is substandard. It has so much to live up to, and that makes it harder than anything I’ve written before. Thanks to Kaeru Shisho for helping me with some important details of this chapter, and thanks to all who keep prodding; the encouragement/nagging helps. Tanya Potter has been particularly patient and supportive, and is quite good with a cattle prod! This chapter’s for her, along with a promise to try to never go so long between updates again!
"The Academy" Chapter Six: Out of the Frying Pan Duo was awake before dawn, jerking out of a sound sleep and blinking warily into the darkness of his room, taking a moment to orientate himself. There was a split-second when his mind tried to take him back to L2 and a musty mattress in an abandoned warehouse. But as he came fully awake, the soft glow of the alarm clock’s display reflecting off the treasured picture from Quatre brought him quickly to the here and now. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and knowing he’d never get back to sleep now that he knew it was less than a half an hour before the alarm was set to go off. Instead, he slipped from under the covers, relishing the feel of the clean sheets across his skin and the warm carpet beneath his feet. This wasn’t L2. He didn’t have to wake up to the same dismal existence he’d pushed into his past. By the time he stood and stretched, he was smiling contentedly, realizing he had extra time for a hot shower to refresh him and prepare for the day. He felt more like a million bucks right then, than if he’d been in one of Quatre’s family vaults. Life was good. When the sun rose shortly thereafter and alarms began to go off in rooms all across the campus, Duo’s brief, tranquil awakening became a thing of the past. There was a mixture of chaos, excitement, and tension in the air as the base came alive with activity. And by the time the braided boy was gathering his books and snatching a protein bar off his nightstand, he was wound about as tight as he could possibly be without snapping like an overstretched rubber band. He stepped out of his room to hear voices up and down the hall, calling greetings and messages to one another with a familiarity that made him momentarily miss boot camp and the comfortable routine he’d been a part of. “Hey, Maxwell, right on time, eh?” came Jase’s teasing voice. Duo grinned at his fellow L2 native. “What’re you doing here, Carroll? Walking Pritchard to class his first day so he doesn’t get lost?” “Maybe,” Jase hedged, glancing over his shoulder expectantly. “Maybe I came to carry your books, sweetie.” “Fat chance,” Duo drawled, shaking his head as Austin walked up behind Jase, giving him an elbow to the ribs. “Tired of me already, Jase?” “God, you two!” Duo said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Can’t you save the flirting for sometime we don’t have to rush to classes?” “Who’s rushing?” Jase asked with a grin. “The way I see it, we’ve got time for breakfast.” Duo shook his head. “Can’t eat.” He held up the protein bar. “This is about all I’ll be able to stomach until I settle in a bit and feel like they won’t suddenly remember I’m a street rat from L2 who doesn’t deserve to be here.” Jase shook his head. “If you don’t deserve it after what you went through to get here, no one does, Duo.” “I know,” Duo shrugged. “Gimme a day or two and I’ll be my normal overconfident self. But today is just plain intimidating.” “More intimidating than realizing who the warden was the first day at Peacecraft?” “Oh.” Duo could clearly remember the sensation of his stomach falling to his feet at the sight of the hated warden that day. “When you put it that way—.” He relaxed enough to tag along with Austin and Jase to get a cup of coffee at the mess hall, though he was still too excited to eat. And although he didn’t see any of his former teammates during the brief time he spent there, he didn’t let it discourage him. He showed up at his first class with five minutes to spare, walking cautiously into the classroom labeled “weapons training,” and looking around for a vacant seat. He’d barely slid into one when the training officer strolled briskly past and tossed a briefcase onto the table at the front of the room. “Lieutenant Lareau?” The officer turned, grinning widely at the sight of the boy. “Well, Maxwell! Long time no see, kid.” “You’re our instructor?” Duo asked eagerly. “The schedule didn’t list a name.” “Yeah, you’re stuck with me until you can field strip a mobile suit rifle and sidearm blindfolded in under two minutes.” Duo smirked cockily. “What’ll I do with the rest of the semester—sir?” Lareau gave a short laugh. “God, I’m gonna have fun with you in this class.” “D’you still assign thirteen laps for tardiness?” “For you, kid—twenty,” came the quick response. As the room filled up and other cadets took their seats, the officer returned to laying out the introductory material for his lecture, giving a smirk and a wink to Duo before walking to the board to begin class. The boy from L2 sighed, suddenly feeling like no matter what the rest of the day brought, it would be a good one. That feeling was almost snuffed out by his second class, when he walked into the room to see none other than Reginald Darlian sitting near the front. Of course the football jock caught sight of him, and gave a smug, superior grin before turning back to a conversation with another kid. “Ass,” mumbled Duo, sliding into a seat near the back of the room, not wanting to be any closer to the too-perfect sports star than he had to be. He looked around for a friendly face, and breathed a small sigh as he spotted Jase. At least there’d be someone to study with. Jase caught his eye, and a wide grin spread across his face as he slid into the seat next to his friend. “Long time no see,” he quipped happily. Duo jerked his head towards their nemesis. “Wish it’d been longer ‘til we were stuck seeing him again.” “Yeah, well…from all I’ve heard around the campus, we’ll see a lot more of him. He’s definitely the star of the Academy—perfect at everything he does—first in every class.” “Not for long,” vowed the braided boy. Jase smirked at the determination in his friend’s voice. “We gonna show him what a couple of L2 brats can do?” “Damn straight.” Both boys turned their attention to the instructor, a no-nonsense officer named Blake, who jumped right into applied mathematics with a fervor that had stunned students scrambling to take notes. On the way out the door at the end of a class that left his brain whirling with fatigue, Duo elbowed Jase. “Study…later…my room?” “Sounds like a plan if we’re going to dethrone the math king,” Jase replied, glancing over his shoulder at Reginald, who had stayed after to talk to the instructor as if they were old friends.
Duo’s third class, scheduled just before lunch, was English…not a subject he relished. Nor was it one he thought necessary for a mobile suit pilot. And he was so busy scowling down at the schedule in his hand, that he bumped into another student as they tried to enter the classroom at the same moment. He looked up to apologize, and smiled instead. “Quat! Damn, it’s good to see you.” Quatre smiled back, looking as relieved as Duo felt. “How’s your day been?” “So far, so good. Got Lareau for weapons and some geek named Blake for math. But Jase is in my math class, which almost makes up for Darlian being in it too.” “Oh. Tough break,” Quatre conceded as they found seats together and settled in. “Heero was in my math class first thing this morning, and after lunch Trowa and I both have applied engineering.” Duo gave a wry snort. “As if either of you will be concentrating on the instructor.” “Sure we will…sometimes,” smirked his friend. They soon turned their attention to the teacher, and since most of the material they were learning had to do with mission shorthand and communication of data, Duo thought he might not be bored quite to death. And at the end of that class, both boys had lunch—and they found their respective partners waiting for them at the table where most of the boot camp boys seemed to congregate. “How’s it going?” Heero asked, as Duo slid into the seat next to him. The blue eyes settled a warm gaze on his braided lover. “Better now that you’re here,” came the teasingly mushy reply. Duo grinned wickedly. “Wish I could show you how much better.” “Later.” “Promises, promises.” Heero just gave a small, enigmatic smile. “Tell me about your classes.” While Duo launched into a quick description of his morning, Heero concentrated on his meal, and when the braided boy was done, they switched, and Heero talked about his day. Then Trowa and Quatre were asked to likewise describe their schedules and impressions of their first classes, until all of them had compared notes. It turned out that each of them shared some common classes with the others, and when Duo found out Heero would be with him in applied engineering at the end of the day, he was ecstatic. Their Tuesday and Thursday schedules were a bit different; they had classes in infiltration, history, and demolitions. Plus, Quatre had been selected for a tactical class, and Heero was in astrophysics. Every day of the week had some sort of physical training as well—either running, calisthenics, and martial arts, or obstacles. The dining hall opened for supper a half hour after the end of training on any given day, and the evenings were open for study time or relaxation. It was a fairly rigorous schedule, although from what they’d heard around campus, the boys understood that as the semester progressed, they’d be given breaks during regular classes to work on projects or areas they had difficulty with. And once they’d passed certain exams and been “qualified” on equipment, they’d be spending more time on hands-on activities, and less in the classroom. Duo leaned back in his chair, pushing his empty plate away. “God, they keep feeding us like this, an’ I’ll end up fat.” Heero raised an eyebrow at the lean, wiry boy. “You could probably eat non-stop for a week without gaining an ounce, Duo.” “High metabolism?” Quatre suggested. “Making up for lost time,” Duo replied. “So, you like it here,” Trowa pushed, his green eyes focused on the teammate he’d gone through so much with. “Lovin’ it,” Duo asserted. “Hard work and all—it rocks.” They had to part company shortly thereafter, and both couples chafed at the inability to show any outward affection. Their relationships were still new enough that they craved constant reassurance and physical contact—neither of which they could indulge in public. Duo sighed, pausing just outside the cafeteria with Heero. “Guess we’ll have to start passing love notes, eh Yuy?” “If that’s the only way to maintain our communication during the day, I’m all for it,” agreed the Japanese boy. “I don’t ever want you to doubt my feelings.” “Nah,” said the braided boy, with a wave of his hand. “Just remind me every night, and it’ll all be good.” He lowered his voice to an intimate undertone. “Love ya, Yuy.” “Right back atcha,” teased his boyfriend, winking one big blue eye solemnly before striding off to his next class. Duo bid a hasty farewell to Trowa and Quatre and dashed off to chemistry class, sliding around the corner and into the room just under the wire. He promptly cursed his late arrival, as the only empty seat in the room was next to Reginald Darlian. “Sucks to be me,” he sighed under his breath, settling reluctantly into the chair. “Running late, Maxwell?” taunted the football jock. “You seemed a little slow on the playing field, too.” “Yeah, well—we’ll see what happens when you’re on my playing field,” Duo shot back coolly. “I’d never be on any playing field of yours, Maxwell. I wouldn’t stoop.” Duo flashed him a grim smile. “The whole world’s my field, Darlian. An’ I’ve got life skills you can only dream about. Just watch how they translate into mobile suit piloting. Then we’ll see who’s the best.” At that moment the instructor rapped loudly on the desk, so the two boys settled for a last glare at one another and turned their attention to the front of the room. “This is chemistry class, boys,” announced the teacher. “I’m Lieutenant Sims…better known as Pyro.” He gave a wicked smirk that made Duo straighten in his seat. “This class is all about the composition of fuels, explosives, and pretty much any substance that can be used as a weapon. I’ll expect your full attention, and strict adherence to safety regulations and protocols. Let’s start with the emergency evacuation procedure…” Duo left the class an hour later feeling as if he’d met the coolest instructor that ever lived. The class promised to be as fascinating as it was dangerous. “Make a little wager, Maxwell?” came a cool voice at his shoulder. He glanced back to see Reggie only a few steps behind. “Fifty bucks says I top the best grade you can make in this class.” “You’re on,” Duo retorted, neglecting the fact that he didn’t have fifty bucks, or the likelihood of acquiring it. It didn’t concern him, since he planned on winning. Reggie gave a wry snort. “I only hope you don’t manage to blow up the lab before the end of the semester.” Duo was tempted to reply with “blow me,” but decided that wasn’t a phrase he ever wanted to use around someone like Reginald Darlian. “Don’t you worry about me, pal. I was born to handle explosives.” He strode off thinking that if being Heero Yuy’s lover wasn’t like carrying a lit stick of dynamite, he didn’t know what was. And then the whole way to engineering class he let himself daydream about his boyfriend, and the spine-tingling rush he got whenever they were together. Heero was waiting for him at the door to applied engineering, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, and it was all Duo could do to resist grabbing him and kissing him. “Been thinking about you,” he told his lover, giving a small, private smile and a wink to the dark-haired boy. Heero pushed off the wall. “Same here,” he said with a warm look in eyes that were usually reserved and calculating. “Glad we can have one class together, at least.” “Me too.” They found seats near the front and settled in to learn about mobile suit designs and their functions. They listened raptly, absorbing every detail and planning for the day they’d use the information. And both boys thought the time passed too quickly. The rest of the day flew by with some limbering exercises and a two-mile run, and then the boys were free to have showers and gather for the evening meal. Dinner was the one time practically every student in every grade was gathered in one location. Everyone from first year cadets to seniors had the same supper hour, and so the mess hall was filled to capacity. Each of the boys from Camp Peacecraft had met class and dorm mates, so the tables were mixed with both old friends and new, sharing accounts of how the first day went, previous years’ stories, and some of the expectations of things to come.
While the students were enjoying their first complete day of training, Captain Chang was in his office catching up on paperwork and awaiting Major Merquise’s return. The Academy director had spent the day in meetings with Colonel Une and higher-ups from the Central Command of the Mobile Suit Corps. There was some high-level Department of Defense representative visiting, and the news he brought had pulled the military officers away for the day, leaving Wufei in charge of the entire training facility. But it also left him restless and uneasy. He could count on one hand the number of times there’d been anyone of that rank at the Academy, and it had never been a portent of good things to come. He heard the steady, familiar tread of boots in the hallway and was on his feet before Merquise opened the door. But instead of greeting his good friend and superior officer, he gazed warily at the weary expression on the handsome face. “Sir?” Zechs took a moment to close the door behind him, and then ran a hand down his face in a universal gesture of exhaustion. “Before you say a word, Chang, just let me bask in the presence of one who is not a total fucking moron!” Wufei’s eyes widened. “That bad?” he asked with a near-wince. The Major nodded, and with a boldness that surprised himself, Wufei walked around the desk and put his arms around the lean, muscular waist in a comforting embrace. Zechs’ arms immediately swept him close, holding him almost painfully tight, and he could feel that the other officer was trembling slightly. “What is it?” he asked, more intent on learning what had so deeply upset his partner than on enjoying the fierce embrace. “Bureaucratic bullshit!” spat Merquise. Wufei pulled back, gaining only an inch or two of space against the powerful arms that held him. “But you’re used to that,” he chided. “What is it about this time that’s got you so rattled?” “They want us to—to choose cadets for the Prototype Program now, rather than at the end of the semester—and to rush them through the training as quickly as possible.” Onyx eyes widened in alarm. “The prototypes? But, we’ve only got a handful of seasoned pilots that have been successful at operating them…let alone half-trained cadets!” “I know that, Wufei. But the government bigwigs want our prototype suits ready for immediate deployment. They know war with the colonies is imminent, and they want to have the edge in technology from the outset.” He dropped his arms from around the Chinese man and walked over to sit on the edge of the desk facing him. “You won’t like the rest of the news, either. They’ve seen the simulator scores, and they want the selection process based on them.” Captain Chang shook his head. “Well, certainly they’d want the most apt seniors—but many of them failed the prototype simulations.” “They want the selection made from all the cadets.” Wufei paled. “You can’t be serious.” Traditionally combat-ready positions had been filled by students in at least their junior year at the Academy. It was felt that first or second year students lacked the maturity and experience necessary to be sent into battle. “They saw the scores, Chang,” Merquise repeated. “All the scores.” Realization dawned in the dark eyes. “The Camp Peacecraft scores?” Zechs nodded. “No one’s ever made the kind of scores your best boot camp kids did. The defense people want that talent harvested.” “But—but we weren’t even supposed to be filling the Prototype Program until halfway through the year!” Wufei protested. “And it was supposed to take a full year and a half to complete the training and battery of tests.” “They’ve given us four weeks to choose the top twenty students and put them in the Program.” “Four weeks? It should take four months!” “We’re to obtain instructor evaluations in the major disciplines, hold extensive simulator testing, and with those who qualify proceed to hands-on mobile suit piloting…all without revealing the purpose behind it. They don’t want cadets changing the way they study in an attempt to qualify. Nor do they want people knowing about the acceleration of the prototype training program. It’s now been classified as top secret. They want the selections made, the pilots trained, and the suits deployed before anyone realizes it’s happened.” Wufei leaned against the door, feeling a bit weak at the knees. “I didn’t bring those boys here to throw them on suicide missions, Zechs. They’re just children. Most of our graduates are at least twenty years old, and even they are barely adult enough to be put on active duty. And that’s during peacetime!” “I know that. But the Peacecraft kids made some unprecedented scores on the simulators, and the people running the show want to be able to include them in the Program if they make the cut…age notwithstanding.” “I’ll protest it.” “I already did.” Zechs straightened, taking strength from his friend’s dismay. He caught the Captain by both shoulders. “Don’t worry, Wufei. We’ll make sure those boys are ready if and when they have to go. I promise you, I’ll hold to the original testing requirements, no matter what the government hotshots say.” He shook his head gently. “For all you know, your boys won’t make the cut anyway.” Wufei’s skeptical sneer conveyed clearly his thoughts on the subject. “You know they will. They’ll be at the top of the list.” He closed his eyes, hanging his head. “I trained them…coached them…brought them here…for an education…not to send them to war.” He turned a troubled gaze to his would-be lover. “I’m a warrior, and so are you. Yuy has it in him as well. But the others…” “…are tougher than you give them credit for,” Merquise finished for him. “Winner is a superb tactician. He not only outmaneuvered Kushrenada; he enjoyed doing it. He played a role, bluffed, and baited the man into a corner. He’s not the soft touch you think he is.” His thumbs rubbed soothingly on the shoulders he held so firmly. “Barton’s another one with more than meets the eye. He came from a gang of mercenaries and learned how to function in a team; he’s adaptable, intelligent, determined, and has the courage to face down attack dogs and lions. You won’t find a better survivor, except perhaps in Maxwell.” As Wufei looked up quickly, Zechs nodded. “Yes…Maxwell is as resilient as he is pretty. He’s got it in him to be a superior pilot. He’s eager, energetic, and has a mind like a steel trap. He can read an enemy in a heartbeat, and adjust his tactics accordingly. The brat had me wrapped around his finger within hours of you leaving the camp. Don’t sell him short. Any one of those boys has more raw talent than half our senior cadets combined. If they make the Program, they’ll breeze through it—and if, God forbid, they are deployed—they’ll not only survive, but they’ll succeed.” The Chinese officer turned his head away, a bitter smile on his lips. “You talk a good game, Zechs. I’ve heard that pep talk at many an Academy training session. But it’s nothing more than rhetoric.” “I told you, I won’t compromise the training standards in the interest of expediency. I will see every cadet in the Prototype Program fully qualified before I allow them to be deployed.” “I have your word on that?” Wufei looked searchingly into the ice blue eyes. “My word as an officer, and my word as a friend and would-be suitor.” Zechs looked earnestly back at him. “I swear Wufei, I won’t send any Camp Peacecraft recruits into a combat zone unless they have passed every test and every hurdle we set for them…and I won’t allow bureaucratic idiots to change the standards for qualification.” “You know they can just overrule you.” “I won’t let them. It’s still my Academy, and I’ll run it the way I see fit.” “And if they choose to replace you for that?” “Then so be it,” shrugged Merquise. “The Corps is my job. But only a job. I won’t let you or any of my trainees down in order to kiss the collective bureaucratic ass.” Wufei melted against Zechs’ chest, receiving a wide-eyed look he completely missed. “Now I know what I love about you—,” he sighed, without giving a thought to the admission he’d just made. But Zechs’ quick intake of breath made him pause and look up, blushing as realization struck. “I mean—your dedication—your devotion to your cadets—.” The Major caught Wufei’s chin in gentle fingers and tilted his head up for a firm, insistent kiss. “I am devoted to you,” he asserted in a whisper. A slight groan escaped the Chinese man’s lips, and he returned the kiss with more fierceness, finding Zechs’ steady presence a reassurance against the oncoming storm.
Oblivious to the political machinations going on behind the scenes, the boys from Team Wing gathered after supper at the library to study together. They’d decided over their meal that going to a dorm room wouldn’t be the most efficient solution, as it would allow too much opportunity for distraction or interruption. But gathering at a study desk with several other students was nearly as disruptive, since the mixture of new friends and old made it hard not to get off on tangents. Quatre surprised everyone by taking charge and making some notes about which subjects each person was there to study; then he proceeded to suggest groups of two or three boys per topic. The others agreed with his plan, and broke off into smaller units. Duo ended up with Jase and Cooper working on math, while Quatre, Rev and Austin started chemistry homework, and Heero, Trowa and Ben did English. They’d been deeply ensconced in their studies for nearly an hour when Reggie and his usual group of hangers-on showed up at their table. “Hey, Yuy,” Reggie said with a friendly smile that immediately set Duo’s teeth on edge. “You interested in getting together with some of my senior friends tomorrow night to work on astrophysics? I’ll take you over to their dorm and introduce you around.” Heero glanced up disinterestedly. “No thanks.” Reggie put a hand on the table, leaning in a little closer. “I’m sure you’re a smart guy, Yuy. But it’s a killer of a course. I missed getting in by two points, and some of my friends who are in second year astrophysics barely scraped by with passing grades last year.” “Thanks for the heads up,” Heero muttered, giving Reggie a longer, colder look. “But I’m not concerned about passing. I expect to do very well in it.” The football jock looked a bit nonplussed, and Duo smirked, looking over from his math homework. “Don’t worry about ‘Ro, Darlian. He’ll ace the fuckin’ course. And you can take that to the bank.” Cold brown eyes turned a contemptuous glare Duo’s way. “I see you’re already struggling with math, Maxwell. Maybe you should be concentrating on chemistry, speaking of taking something to the bank.” “He’s not struggling!” Quatre interjected hotly, coming to his friend’s defense in a flash. “He’s just working hard to get the best grade possible. We all are!” “S’okay, Quat,” Duo shrugged. “I’ll admit I have to work at math.” He gave Reggie a narrow look. “But being human comes easy to me.” “Oh, ouch,” chuckled Trowa, keeping his head down over his book so that his hair obscured his smile of approval at the vicious barb. Reggie’s gaze swept the entire group, and he pushed off from the table. “If you change your mind, Yuy, just let me know.” “Right.” The group of football players and their star headed off through the rows of books, and the boys at the table gave a collective sigh of relief. “Maxwell, exactly how did you manage to evoke such complete hostility from Darlian?” Heero asked wearily. “Told ya. I met him at check-in, and he just took to me from the start,” grinned the braided boy. Rev gave a short laugh at that. “He’s right, Yuy. Reg was looking for someone to lord it over, and when Duo wouldn’t play the part, he right away decided to dislike him.” Heero just shook his head. Duo was both the most likeable and the most annoying boy he’d ever known. Whether they became his friend or his enemy, no one seemed to stay a stranger for long. “It’s okay,” Quatre said firmly. “I don’t think Darlian likes me very much either. But we’re not here to please him.” “Naw, we’re here to kick his ass in each and every subject,” Duo agreed. “What was he talking about taking to the bank?” Trowa interjected, raising a curious look to the braided boy. “We made a little wager on whether or not I can outdo him in chemistry class,” Duo explained. “A wager?” Heero asked rather sharply. Duo smirked at him. “Yeah, ‘Ro. But not what you’re thinking. It’s a cash wager.” “I wasn’t thinking of anything else,” said the former team leader quickly, the jealousy leaving his eyes at once. “Right,” drawled Duo skeptically. “How much did you bet?” Trowa asked. “Fifty bucks.” The auburn-haired boy raised an eyebrow. “Do you have fifty bucks?” “Don’t need it unless I lose, and I won’t,” came the cocky response. “Famous last words…” “They aren’t last words,” Duo asserted. “I can ace chemistry. I did great in the subject back in camp, and I can do it here.” “That’s nice to know,” Jase interrupted. “But we’re supposed to get these math problems done tonight.” “Oh, yeah. Right. Math.” Duo heaved a sigh. “Not nearly as interesting as blowing stuff up.” “But equally necessary, Maxwell,” came Captain Chang’s mildly chiding voice, as the officer emerged from between rows of books, his dark gaze sweeping the group gathered at the table. “I’m glad to see all you boys so serious about your studies—but why don’t you head back to your dorms and get some rest? It’s only the first week of classes. Surely your instructors haven’t loaded you up on work already.” “No point in waiting until they do,” Heero pointed out, catching a gleam in his friend’s eyes that made him uneasy. “We’re establishing good study habits,” Duo added with a cheeky grin, even as his fingers worked on folding a scrap of paper into a little missile he could flick at the back of Reggie’s head the next time they had class together. All he’d have to do was get a seat behind his nemesis, and the rest would be easy. Wufei gave a wry smile and a slightly sarcastic nod. “By all means, carry on then. I’ve just come to borrow Yuy for a moment.” Several sets of eyes gave him a curious glance, but the officer ignored them, fixing a steady gaze on his long-time friend. Heero frowned as he looked back, catching something in the dark eyes, and then with a terse “hn” he gathered his books and shoved them into his backpack. He spared a glance for Duo, giving a small, reassuring smile. “G’night,” he said to the entire group, while his eyes remained on his lover. “Yeah, sweet dreams,” Duo teased, waving a hand dismissively to make it sound like a joke. At the same time, he wondered why the MSC officer wanted a private moment with Heero. It couldn’t possibly bode well—could it? Jase snapped his fingers in front of the indigo eyes to regain Duo’s attention as Heero and Wufei departed. “C’mon, Maxwell. Math—remember? That thing with numbers and symbols, that you and I are gonna help each other ace?” Pulling himself together, Duo pasted on his trademark
grin. “Right. Math.” His eyes glimmered with mischief as
he added, “But I’d still rather be blowing things up.”
tbc... |
