A/N: This is what happens when you've watched F&F: Tokyo Drift too many times and you're moving to Las Vegas… so, be warned. Also, there will be alternative pairings in this fic.
And, this isn't me abandoning Big Sky: I've had this idea in my head for months and I keep pushing it aside, but it finally decided to take more form.
Warnings: Angst, language, yaoi, yuri, violence. Same old, same old. Also, I still don't own Gundam Wing…
Ready 1/?
Trowa kept his face blank as he entered the office, determined to frustrate the school principal as much as he could. So far, in the five high schools he had attended, the silent-sullen approach had worked well.
The principal was a woman, her hair pulled back in sharp buns on either side of her head, and one look at her told Trowa that she might have invented the silent-sullen approach.
She arched an eyebrow at him when he came in and gestured imperiously to the empty chair across from her desk. The small nameplate in her front of her desk declared her to be 'Dr. M. Une.'
"Mr. Barton, you are quite the troublemaker," she started without preamble. Trowa blinked back his shock at her candor.
"I realize that, at the age of seventeen, you've seen a lot of the world already and think you know more than most people ever will," she paused and looked to him for confirmation; receiving none she continued, "but you don't. Mesa Verde has an excellent reputation, Mr. Barton, and while your education has been…sporadic in the past, your test scores indicate that you have the intelligence to do well here. The only questions are your discipline and your will to succeed."
She stopped talking and leaned back in her chair, still looking at him over the top of her glasses as if she owned him.
"Your sister, Catherine Bloom, is very anxious that you do well here. I understand that the courts have granted her temporary custody."
Trowa felt a muscle in his jaw spasm as the woman continued to push.
"You remaining in her care is very important to her, and is also contingent upon your performance in this school – as well as a cessation of your previous, illegal activities. This is Las Vegas, after all, and if you want to find trouble, you can. Do you, Mr. Barton? Do you want to find trouble?"
He continued to remain silent, knowing that if he spoke now, he would say something that would have him on a plane and back to New York and a foster home.
"I have seen a lot of challenged youths in my time, Mr. Barton. You are no more or less special than some of those. And like them, you have a choice to make: will you continue on this destructive path or will you reform and actually make yourself into someone who has a full, useful life?"
She waited another moment, then pushed a manila envelope across the desk to him.
"Your class schedule is inside – your sister chose your elective classes, if you want to change them, you may speak with Mr. Nance, the councilor for your group – Also in there is a map of the campus, your locker number and code, and a list of the school rules. Follow them. I don't want to see you back in here until we have a meeting with your sister and a social worker in four months to update your progress. Are we clear, Mr. Barton?"
"Yes, ma'am," he ground out.
She smiled tightly and waved her hand, dismissing him.
He rose as insolently as possible and took his bag and the envelope, closing her office door behind him with more force than necessary.
Outside her office was a low bench and he sat on it as he looked over the schedule. He wasn't surprised to find himself in advanced classes – Une was right, he WAS intelligent: AP English, European History, Calculus, Physics, and French. It was his sister's choice of electives that surprised him: Art Studio and Theatre. Usually he was forced into a band class – when he had been younger he had played the flute, but had long ago lost interest in the instrument. Art was a class he had taken in the past, but with little support from his caretakers it had been difficult to do well; Catherine had been pushing him into theatre for years now, so that class wasn't as surprising.
It was a challenging schedule, and he was sure that Catherine and Une had concocted it in the hopes that he would be too overwhelmed with schoolwork to do anything else. He felt like smirking. He was definitely up to the challenge.
Looking at the clock on the wall told him he had five minutes left until the first class began and so he found the campus map and set about locating the 'Social Studies Building' to find his history class.
On his way he surveyed the campus and the student population. Despite the name, the campus was as red and dry as the rest of Las Vegas, and the students were a diverse mix of races and classes: a true blend of the locals.
Trowa shook his head, and wondered how long it would be before he was on that plane back to New York.
Since senior year courses didn't require a history class, his was filled with seniors who, with a few notable exceptions, looked like the future crop of Ivy Leaguers. The notable exceptions were himself and a girl and boy who sat towards the back of the room. The girl looked Asian and had short, dark hair and, while dressed as well and stylishly as the rest of the girls in the class, had an air about her that suggested she was fed up with the world's population in general, and the people around her specifically. She watched Trowa enter and gave him a nod, no doubt recognizing a kindred spirit. The boy that sat in front of her looked to be her total opposite: he wore baggy, ripped jeans and a faded Yankees T-shirt. A thick braid of hair hung down his back and his bangs hid half of his tanned face. He was scowling and staring at the bank of windows to his left, barely awake.
Trowa took a seat a few rows in front of the two, with the rest of the class sitting in front of him, jockeying for the positions closest to the front. He rolled his eyes at the thought of them trying to show off and fought the urge to look back at the other two students to see their reactions.
A few minutes later the teacher entered and quiet settled.
"Good morning everyone! I'm so glad that all of my best students decided to take this class! I've missed having most of you, since freshman year. Now, I'm going to pass around the attendance sheet – sign your names and update your contact information. And here is the course syllabus." She started circulating the papers at the front of the room.
When the papers arrived at Trowa's desk he quickly filled out the required information and stood to pass them back to the boy and girl. The boy jerked upright as Trowa approached, giving the distinct impression that he had been asleep, and accepted the papers with a nod of thanks, his dark blue eyes not even meeting Trowa's.
Trowa returned to his desk and examined the syllabus. History was something he had always enjoyed, and the required texts for this class looked challenging – none of them could be considered traditional 'text-books' but were instead collections of essays, narratives, and primary sources.
Instead of starting a lecture, which Trowa would have preferred and even appreciated, the teacher grinned at the class and clapped her hands. Trowa winced at the sharp sound.
"Okay, now, instead of diving right in, let's take this class to catch up – I want to know what everyone's been doing with their summer and what plans you've made for college."
The other students gathered closer to her, abandoning their seats and any pretense at being scholarly. Only one student in front of Trowa, a boy with dark, unruly hair, refused to join in and instead pulled out a math book and began thumbing through it.
Trowa looked over his shoulder, not surprised to see the braided boy asleep, head cradled in his arms on his desk, and the Asian girl glaring ahead at the chattering students. She caught his eye and grimaced before grabbing her bag and moving forward. On her way she hit the braided boy on the head with her bag, startling him awake momentarily.
"Bitch," he muttered, glaring, before he put his head back down.
The girl sat down beside Trowa.
"I'm Meilin," she said.
"Trowa."
"Glad to see there's another one in here who doesn't want to make history into social hour," she said, her bitterness evident.
He smirked.
"I thought all girls liked to gossip. Something about their brains being too small for anything else?"
Her glare could have killed him on the spot.
"You sound just like – whatever. I'm going to let that one go, but the next one will have an equally sharp come-back, so make sure you have your tissue box handy before you try that again."
He nodded at her warning.
"Are you new here? I only ask because everyone else, even Duo," she gestured behind her to the sleeping boy, "has been here for about two years at least – and our group is the, um, brilliant one. So we don't get many students promoted into our classes."
Trowa blinked.
"You either insulted me or complimented me just now, I'm not sure which."
She grinned back.
"And you'll never know."
"I just moved here," Trowa offered.
She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his brief response.
"Figured. Let's see – if you're at Mesa Verde it means you've got money because we've got our quota of 'Les Miserables' filled, so you must live within the district… dad a lawyer?"
"Dead."
"Mom a lawyer?"
"Also dead."
"Alright…" she looked thoughtful as she tried to figure out another explanation for his existence and Trowa was gratified that she didn't immediately gush over him with pity.
"Got it! You just got adopted by one of 'The Producers' gay, chorus boy couples."
"Closer."
"Hm. What's your last name?"
"Barton. It won't help you."
She scowled at him.
"Want me to tell you?"
"No! I'll figure it out, before today is over, don't worry."
He smirked again and her scowl became more pronounced.
"Boys," she muttered.
Trowa looked around, making sure that the other students were still absorbed – or asleep – and then he leaned towards Meilin.
"My turn for questions," he said.
She looked suspicious.
"Alright."
"What do you people do for fun around here?"
She arched an eyebrow at him.
"By you people – do you mean them?" She gestured to the front of the class. "Or do you mean us?" She pointed to Duo and then back at herself.
"Us, definitely."
She smiled slightly, relieved.
"Good. Well, the usual – parties with alcohol and drugs, but nothing serious enough to get the cops called and our perfect records ruined. Or –" she frowned and looked him over, "or some of us are also involved in more… dangerous pursuits."
Trowa felt a small twinge of hope at her words.
"Like?" He prodded, unwilling to give away anything until she did.
"Mostly we push hobo's off of cliffs," she said and chuckled at his frustrated expression. "But when we run out of them, there's still racing."
"Racing? Cars, bikes?"
"Both – but mostly cars. Don't tell me –" she saw the look on his face. "God, another one. What is it with every interesting boy here wanting to kill himself?"
"I wouldn't call racing a desire to kill oneself, necessarily," Trowa argued.
"Yeah. Whatever."
The bell rung, interrupting their conversation and signaling the end of class.
Meilin grabbed her bag and prodded Duo again, who grumpily rose to his feet, glaring at her. He looked over at Trowa and arched an eyebrow.
"New conquest already, Mei? It's only the first day of school. Whatever will Chang say when you bring this one home?"
Meilin rolled her eyes at him.
"Trowa, this is Duo Maxwell – resident genius-slacker and heartbreaker extraordinaire."
Trowa shot her a questioning look at that – sure, Duo was handsome, but his entire manner seemed more indolent than seductive.
"He's gay," she explained, clearly exasperated, " and thus the hearts of most of the girls in this school have been broken."
Duo shrugged, completely unapologetic.
"Not my fault God didn't grace them with the perfection of a masculine form," he said, earning another attack from Meilin's bag.
Trowa smirked at that, and Meilin saw.
"No – no, come on! You too?"
He shrugged and Duo gave him a high-five.
"About time we got another one to join our pathetic numbers here, welcome to the club."
Meilin rolled her eyes.
"C'mon, you're going to be late for your next class – and you need to save those tardies for later this year, Duo."
"Yes, mom."
Trowa was a little shocked to have Meilin and Duo – as well as the majority of the history class – in both his AP Calc and English classes. The teachers of those classes, however, were more concerned with educating than socializing, so even though the three sat near each other, they didn't speak until the bell after English class released them for lunch hour.
He joined them at their 'usual spot' outside on the small, dirt filled quad under one of the few trees struggling to survive.
He commented on the school's false advertising.
"Tell me about it – I moved here from freakin' Tampa – talk about complete opposites. Florida was crawling with life and green shit and here's it's just… dust." Was Duo's thought.
"It's not that bad – at least it isn't humid. How many times have I heard you tell me that you prefer the weather here, Duo? And anyway, at least it doesn't snow." Meilin shuddered. "I used to live in Connecticut – and I'll trade greenery for warmth any day."
"Where do you hail from?" Duo asked around his sandwich.
Trowa shrugged.
"All over. Recently from New York."
"City?" Meilin asked, ears perked as she continued to try and discover his identity.
Trowa nodded.
"What brings you out here?" Duo asked and then cried out in pain when Meilin elbowed him. "What?"
"She's trying to figure that out, on her own," Trowa explained.
Duo rubbed his side.
"Doesn't mean she gets to kill me," he muttered.
"Trowa's going to join us tonight," Meilin told Duo.
"He is?" Duo asked, frowning as he looked over at Trowa, who was hiding his own confusion.
"Sure. Figure I'll introduce him to Wufei… show him around a bit. Why? Don't you like him?"
The fact that Meilin was asking Duo in front of Trowa no doubt led to the following, vague response.
"It's not that… I mean, he seems okay, maybe, it's just… whatever."
Meilin smiled as if she had won a victory. She turned to Trowa.
"We have an annual start of the year party at my boyfriend's. It begins at nine. Give me your address so I can pick you up."
Her tone of voice left no room for argument. Trowa looked over at Duo, who shrugged. When he turned back to Meilin she was holding out a pad of paper and a pen.
Resigned, he took them and wrote down both his address and his phone number.
It wasn't until later, when they parted ways to head to the last class of the day, that it occurred to him she would no doubt use the information to discover who he was.
When he arrived at his Art Studio class he was surprised to see Duo already in the classroom, sitting at the front, disturbing eager to learn. It was a marked change in the boy, who had shown a lack of interest in their other classes.
Trowa debated sitting beside Duo, but a short girl with violet hair slid into the seat before Trowa had reached a decision. Instead Trowa sat in the back. The class was the smallest yet – only ten students – and the teacher looked more serious than any of the others.
"Alright, welcome back to another year – those of you who are returning – and welcome to a new student, Trowa Barton." He nodded towards Trowa, and the class turned. Trowa nodded back and the interest in him was immediately lost. "When you lot came in as freshmen we worked on your drawing skills, sophomore year painting, and last year sculpture. This year, your final year, I'm going to let you experiment. The goal is for each of you to put together a portfolio that you can show to colleges and potential employers. Roughly speaking, we'll be completing eight projects each semester. Ideally I want you to use different media and subjects, but I'm flexible on this if you want to create a series. I'm going to pass out the schedule and – don't get too excited – a list of contests and galleries that are looking for new work. I expect each of you to enter at least two of these each semester. Alright, I'm going to let you get started – the first project is due next Friday. Duo, Trowa, I need to talk to each of you."
Duo followed the teacher over to his desk and Trowa used the time while they spoke to look at his course schedule again to discover the instructor's name: Khusrenada.
Looking around the room, Trowa realized that the other students were serious about Art – the conversations that were springing up around the room seemed to be focused around discussing college plans and summer trips to Europe. Somehow their conversations were more tolerable than those in his history class, which had seemed annoyingly flippant.
Khushrenada signaled to him and Trowa walked over to his desk.
"I'm going to be honest here, Trowa. I'm not sure this is the right class for you. Personally, I would prefer to put you back a level, but I've been overruled on that." He looked irritated for a moment. "However, I have been assured by both your sister and the school's principal that this is a subject you excel in – is there any chance you have a portfolio I could look at that would set my mind at ease?"
Trowa shook his head.
"Sorry, I do have my latest sketchbook – it's got a few pages in it."
"Bring it here," Khushrenada instructed, frowning.
Trowa retrieved the book and handed it over. There were less than twenty-pages worth of sketches inside, and most of them were character studies he had done at the airports on his way out, only a few were more involved.
"Good," Khushrenada pronounced. "You've got some nice stuff going on. I'm going to request that this first project of yours is a painting – your choice of oil or acrylic – and then second project do a sculpture. If those are satisfactory, then you can continue in this class – otherwise we'll need to work out something else."
Trowa accepted the book back and returned to his seat.
A moment later he was joined by Duo and the violet haired girl.
"This is Hilde. Hilde, this is Trowa." Duo said as he pulled up a chair and straddled the back. Hilde perched on the table in front of Trowa and smiled at him.
"Hi," she said.
He nodded back at her just as Duo grabbed his sketch-book and started to flip through the pages.
Trowa clamped down on his irritation at the invasion of his personal space and waited for Duo to finish looking at it. Hilde rolled her eyes at Duo's presumption.
"Satisfied?" Trowa asked when Duo finally handed it back.
Duo shrugged, unfazed by Trowa's anger.
"Wish you had more in it – guess it's new?"
Trowa didn't respond and Duo grinned.
"Another one with a stick up his ass," he told Hilde.
"Did you come back here just to harass me?" Trowa demanded.
"Naw, Hilde thought you were hot and wanted me to introduce her – she doesn't believe me that you're gay, and –" Duo stopped talking to block the punch Hilde aimed at his face, but even she was grinning.
"Actually, we came back because Duo's always obnoxious after lunch and I was hoping to ditch him in your company so I could get some research done. And because he won't stop talking about this "new, hot guy" –" she ducked Duo's arm and jumped off the desk, headed towards the computers against the far wall.
"She's completely worthless when it comes to making a smooth entrance," Duo groused.
"Not that you're much better," Trowa said.
Duo looked offended.
"I can be smooth when I want." He paused and scooted his chair closer. "You don't have to come tonight, if you don't want to. You're new, so maybe you think you need to hang out with the first people who invite you to a party, but –"
"Is this your round-about way of telling me to fuck off?" Trowa asked.
"No! It's just… I don't know what Meilin told you about our crowd, but… we're not the kind of kids who just break into their dad's liquor cabinet."
"If you're hinting at illegal street racing, then I'm well aware, and that's the ONLY reason I accepted the invitation."
Duo was completely taken aback. His shock quickly turned to anger.
"Okay. Fine. Hope you enjoy it, then." He stood quickly, shoving the chair away, and joined Hilde at the computers.
She turned, wide-eyed to look at Trowa, who could only shrug in return, completely at a loss as to how he had angered Duo.
Trowa took the bus home, burying his frustration with Duo by glaring at the various frosh who tried to sit beside him.
Left alone, he spent the ten minute ride debating how to tell Catherine of his plans for the night. At least it was the weekend – school started on a Friday out here, the logic of which escaped him. Catherine, he knew, had two shows tonight and wouldn't be in until the early hours of the morning, so there was no reason for him to remain home by himself.
Except that Catherine wanted him to reform – which no doubt meant a curfew and late nights spent studying. Trowa knew his sister wanted them to be a family, wanted to help him; but that didn't mean it was what he wanted. He had spent the last ten years bouncing around in various foster-care homes, and now that his sister had actually been awarded custody, it felt surreal. All of the years without her, he had always told himself that one day it would be better – one day they would be together again. But now he was confronted with the truth: it wasn't better. She, like everyone else, didn't understand him and didn't want to. She only wanted to change him, she wanted him to fit into HER life, not the other way around.
He wasn't sure when he reached the decision to resist – but in the two weeks he had spent with her before the school year started she had tried her hardest to re-create the life, and the brother, she had once had.
"I'm going out tonight," Trowa announced when he spotted his sister by the balcony.
Catherine, watering the house plants, stopped and frowned at him.
"Are you sure that's a good idea? It's the first night of school and –"
"And it's also a Friday night, no school tomorrow."
"Well, who are you going out with?"
Trowa resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Some students in my AP European History class – one of them is in my art class, also."
"Oh – well, how did you like your classes?" She asked, coming to sit on the couch in the living room.
Trowa shrugged and Catherine's face went slack in disappointment.
"Trowa. Talk to me, tell me things. Please. We're trying here – right? Trying to be a family?"
Reluctantly he leaned against one of the side chairs and set down his bag.
"It was fine. My classes are challenging. I like them."
Catherine frowned at his response.
"Okay –well, what's your favorite so far?"
"What time do you have to be at the theatre tonight?" Trowa asked instead of answering.
"I need to leave in about twenty minutes – I won't be back until really late, you know. Hey, Trowa, why don't you come with me? You could watch the first show from the audience and then come backstage for the second show. Everyone's been asking about you – they're anxious to see you again. A lot of the old crew are still with the show, you know. And after the second show we're going over to Etienne's house – do you remember Etienne?"
As if Trowa could forget his first sexual encounter. It had happened three years ago, when he had come to visit Catherine for Christmas, and she had insisted he accompany her to the shows, and then the after-party. Etienne, who was eight years older than Trowa, and who he had known as a child, before his parents' death, had cornered him in one of the back rooms. It hadn't been a rape, by any means, but it was a bad enough experience for Trowa to avoid attending any parties with Catherine over the next two years when he came to visit.
"He's really glad that you're back with me. He asked if you would be coming to see the show soon." Catherine smiled at him. Of course she knew what had happened but had waved it off, insisting that Trowa just needed more experience. She thought the idea of Etienne and her kid brother was charming. Trowa did not share her opinion.
"I think it's important for me to make friends with this group of students," Trowa said. "They're intelligent and driven. I think they'll be a good example for me."
"Oh – well, that – that's true. Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Um, you've got my cell phone number? And you know how to get to the theatre, if anything happens?"
"Yes. I do."
"Okay – and you'll be safe?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I guess. Have a good time! I'll see you tomorrow?"
He nodded at her and she smiled slightly and, impulsively, hugged him.
"Oh, Trowa, I'm so glad to have you home!"
And then she was gone, leaving him blissfully alone.
It was eight before Trowa decided on what to wear – he wasn't sure what exactly the party would entail, but he desperately hoped there would be racing of some kind. The fact that he had no car of his own bothered him only a little – he planned on spending the weekend looking for jobs and soon enough, he was sure, he would be in a position to enter a race on his own.
After nearly an hour searching through the boxes in his room and the two suitcases he still hadn't unpacked Trowa found an outfit he thought would be appropriate. He pulled on his favorite, dark wash jeans before stepping into a pair of well-worn black Vans. It took him a little longer to decide on what shirt to wear and eventually he settled on his black Ramones t-shirt and a blue, pin-striped button up worn open over it.
It was eight-twenty when a car horn honked outside and he smirked, feeling a jolt of adrenaline at the possibilities the night held. He grabbed his wallet, cell-phone and keys and left the apartment.
The car double-parked outside made him rethink his decision to be involved with this group: it wasn't someone's souped-up Toyota or Honda. Meilin was driving a brand new Vauxhall.
Trowa ran his hand over the hood of the car as he walked around to the passenger side. Meilin was smirking as he got in.
"Pretty hot car, huh?" She teased.
"Yeah," Trowa tried to sound nonchalant but Meilin laughed and threw the car into gear, speeding out of the parking lot in a screech of tires before Trowa had even thought to reach for his seatbelt.
"You look nice," she said, glancing at him after merging onto the freeway.
"Thanks." He looked over at her clothes and noted the complete transformation: by day she was a preppy Asian girl, by night she dressed in skin-tight jeans and a top cut so low he wondered why she bothered with a shirt at all.
She caught him staring at her cleavage.
"I know, right? My boobs are so amazing you almost want to be straight."
Trowa shook his head.
"Sorry. They're nice, I'll give you that. But, nope, still gay."
She sighed in frustration.
"Figures. Okay, here we are."
Meilin pulled to a stop by the side of the road, behind a line of other cars parked on the desert. A few yards away a tent was erected and it looked like nearly a hundred people were crowded under it. The thrum of music filled the air. On the other side of the road was a spectacular view of the valley. Trowa could see the Strip and downtown surrounded by millions of lights.
"Nice view," he said as he climbed out of the car.
"Yeah. Every year we have to move farther and farther away."
"Why?"
"Real estate. They keep building out this way, so it's getting harder to find an out of the way place."
Trowa felt his pulse speed.
"Out of the way place for racing?"
She rolled her eyes at him.
"You have a one-track mind, you know that? C'mon, I'll show you around." She locked the car and gestured him towards the tent.
Trowa eagerly followed her into the crowd.
Most of the people gathered looked to be in their early twenties, but Trowa recognized a few faces from school that day, most notably Duo.
Gone was the shaggy slacker and Trowa now understood why Meilin considered Duo to be a heart-breaker. He was dressed in tight leather pants and a black muscle shirt that showed off his lean, tanned body. But it was his hair that was so captivating: at school Duo had kept it braided. Now it was loose, flowing around Duo's shoulders and giving him an almost ethereal appearance.
It took Trowa a moment to remember how to breathe. Meilin smirked at him, eyes following his.
"Shocking, isn't it? He's a completely different person around us."
Trowa nodded, still unable to look away.
"C'mon, you can drool over him later, I want to introduce you to Wufei."
Wufei was over to one side of the tent, engaged in some definite illegal activity, so Meilin just pointed at the attractive Asian man and then pulled Trowa off in another direction. After several minutes of being introduced, Meilin allowed him to search out Duo.
He was standing by the road, admiring the view and finishing off a beer.
Trowa walked over and stood beside the slightly shorter boy.
"Hey," Duo said. He seemed in a much better mood than when they had last spoken.
"Hey," Trowa replied.
"How do you like it so far?" Duo asked after tossing his beer bottle into the night.
Trowa waited until he heard the glass shatter before he answered.
"Good. Waiting to see what's going to happen."
Duo snorted.
"You mean you're waiting for the racing. Don't worry. As soon as Heero shows, it'll start."
"Heero?"
"He's… well, he's got a grudge to settle tonight, so we're waiting for him to show before we start the festivities."
"You don't sound very excited."
"I'm not," Duo assured him.
"Then why are you here?"
Duo glared at him.
"Why do you care?" He challenged.
Trowa's lips twitched.
"Because I'm part of the club now."
It took Duo a moment to remember what Trowa was talking about, but then he laughed.
"Yeah. Okay. It's complicated. Just – why are you here?"
"The racing, I thought that was clear."
Duo shook his head.
"You
don't want to get messed up with us, Trowa. Racing isn't worth
it."
"Then what is?" Trowa took a step closer to Duo and
watched as his blue eyes widened.
"Are you coming on to me?" Duo demanded.
Trowa smirked.
"Maybe."
"Then don't waste your time with that either. You'll only be disappointed."
"I doubt that."
"You – "
Duo stopped talked as a car sped towards them, lights still on bright and going at full speed. Instinctively Trowa grabbed Duo and pushed him farther off the road, keeping a hand on him even as the car screeched to a halt.
"That'd be Heero," Duo said, not pulling free.
"Knows how to make an entrance," Trowa said drily, breathing deeply to catch Duo's scent. He couldn't help but grin as he recognized the Axe body spray
The lights turned off and a slightly familiar figure got out of the car and walked towards them. Trowa recognized him from some of his classes.
Heero stopped a few feet away from them.
"Duo."
Duo pulled away from Trowa without a backwards glance and walked over to Heero, sliding an arm around his waist.
Heero glared over his shoulder at Trowa just before disappearing into the crowd under the tent.
"That went great, Barton," he muttered to himself before tossing his own beer bottle over the side of the road.
--
It was another twenty minutes before the cars started to line up. Trowa was able to get a better look at the vehicles as they pulled up. He was equally irritated and jealous to see that Heero was driving an Evo X – they weren't even scheduled to go on sale in the US until January, but Heero had somehow managed to get one. The rest of the cars were mixtures of American muscle cars, Audis, and Mitsubishi's. Trowa was mildly surprised to see Meilin's Vauxhall drive to the starting line, but when the driver stepped out it was Wufei, not Meilin.
As the crowd gathered around the cars Trowa felt a stab of envy.
Wufei walked over to him.
"Meilin tells me you're interested in joining our circuit," he said, lighting a cigarette.
Trowa arched an eyebrow.
"She does."
Wufei nodded, silent as he took a drag on the cigarette.
"Well, I suppose I could run alongside on foot."
Wufei smiled slightly at the weak joke.
"No car?"
"Just moved here from New York."
"Too bad." Wufei turned to walk away, but the sound of voices approaching stopped him.
Walking towards them were Duo and Heero, obviously in the middle of a fight.
"… was nothing. We met today at school."
"He was all over you."
"He pulled me out of the road so you wouldn't run over me!"
"You are such a slut."
"And you're an asshole. No, forget it, Yuy. You –"
"Is there a problem, Maxwell?" Wufei asked, at last interrupting them.
The two men came closer, both scowling. Heero turned a glare towards Trowa.
"Don't tell me you came here to race?" He sneered at Trowa.
"Nope. Just to enjoy the sights." Trowa looked over at Duo, letting his eyes linger on the angry teen.
Heero took a step forward and Trowa met him, glaring down at the shorter man.
"You got a problem?" He asked.
"Yeah. You. If you aren't here to race, then get the hell away."
"It's a free country."
Wufei pushed them apart.
"Gentlemen, we have a race starting in a few minutes. Why don't we settle this later?"
Heero sneered.
"Didn't figure you would hang out with such trash, Chang."
Wufei arched an eyebrow.
"I fail to see how your judgment is superior to mine, Yuy."
"Run and hide while you can," Heero said to Trowa. "Unless you're willing to get your ass kicked?" He jerked his head towards the cars.
Trowa's jaw clenched.
"Wouldn't want to embarrass you," he said, gritting his teeth in frustration.
Heero snorted.
"You mean you're afraid."
Trowa stepped forward again, but this time it was Duo who pushed them apart.
"As amusing as this is, Fei's right – the race starts soon."
"Well, how about it?" Heero challenged.
Trowa glared at him and, after a moment, Heero laughed and turned away.
"I thought so," he said over his shoulder as he pulled Duo after him.
Wufei sighed.
"That was fun." He looked at Trowa closely.
"I hate to encourage this, but I do have a spare car…"
Trowa looked at him incredulously.
"You're going to let a stranger drive the Vauxhall? How much money do you people have?"
Wufei coughed politely.
"Ah, no. No one but Meilin or myself drives the Vauxhall. I do have a recently... acquired Skyline that you could drive."
"What are the conditions?" Trowa asked, suspicions aroused.
Wufei shrugged.
"I want to see how well you can race."
Trowa frowned, but his anger over Heero's attitude and his desire to sit behind the wheel of a car won out over his suspicions.
"Alright."
Wufei nodded and dropped a set of keys into his hand. He nodded at the last car on the starting line, a dark green Nissan.
"There she is. You might want to look her over before we start."
Trowa nodded and approached the vehicle.
As he opened the hood and surveyed the engine and the Nox setup he realized that he was completely out of his league.
Meilin was in the Vauxhall next to him, smiling at Wufei, who stood on the sidelines, ready to call the race. Two cars over Heero was settling into his Evo X while Duo leaned into the passenger side window, giving Trowa a great view of his ass.
Meilin caught him looking and shook her head in amusement. Scowling, Trowa turned away and looked ahead.
There were five cars in the race, which was two miles to a construction site and then back.
The road cleared and an expectant hush fell over the crowd.
"Ready," Wufei said in a bored voice.
"Go." He said a moment later and the air was filled with exhaust as the racers tore off into the night.
Meilin's car jumped off to an early lead, but after the first quarter mile Trowa had come even with her and Heero had pulled ahead, the other two racers behind them.
Trowa managed to pull slightly ahead of Meilin, but Heero continued to pull ahead and Trowa cursed the other car.
As the construction site came into view Trowa prepared to turn, but Meilin had caught up and cut him off on the turn, forcing him into a wider turn that took him off the road.
"Damnit!" He put the car back in gear and rested his thumb over the Nox drive.
"Now or never," he muttered to himself as he watched Meilin move up on Heero.
A press of the button forced him back into his seat.
He passed Meilin in a blur, but Heero had decided to engage the Nox at the same time and was still pulling ahead.
Trowa's car started to shake, more than was normal, and he checked the dials, trying to figure out what was wrong.
"Shit." He looked up from the dials to catch Heero's car drifting in front of him, trying to cut him off. Trowa jerked the wheel around, coming towards the left, but Heero anticipated the move and the two cars collided.
Trowa fought to retain control of the Skyline, but the Evo was forcing him off the road. There was a moment when the two cars seemed to hang on the side of the road, and then Trowa felt a sickening lurch as they flew over the side, down the embankment.
"Oh fuck," he braced himself against the seat, preparing for the inevitable impact.
There was a twisting, groaning noise that alerted him to his impending death, and then he felt the force of the impact.
As quickly as he could he pried himself free of the restraints and struggled free of the car – he had been around enough accidents to know that cars with nitrous feeds didn't just die, they died a fiery, painful death.
Half-crawling, Trowa saw the Evo just to the side, and Heero still trapped inside.
Debating with himself for half a second, Trowa rushed over and helped pry the other man out of his car. He managed to pull them both away just as the fuel tanks ignited.
Feeling the heat burn his back, Trowa continued to pull them away.
By the time they reached a safe distance, Heero became aware of his surroundings.
"You destroyed my Evo," he said, voice deadly.
"I – you're the one who forced us off the road!" Trowa shot back.
"You have no idea how to handle a car. If you hadn't reacted so badly we'd both still be on the road," Heero retorted, clutching his side. Blood dripped from a cut near his eyes.
"You have got to be kidding."
Heero glared and struggled to stand on his own.
There were shouts from the road and Trowa looked up to see a crowd of people coming down the embankment.
Duo was the first to reach them. He took one look at Trowa and then went for Heero, helping the other man limp away.
Trowa watched them go, completely shocked.
"Trowa?" Meilin was in front of him, frowning. "Trowa, you ruined the Skyline."
"I realize that," he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
"You owe me a car." Wufei walked over, brushing dirt from his shirt and glaring down at Trowa.
"Yeah, I figured."
Trowa laid back on the dirt and closed his eyes. In less than twenty-four hours he had completely fucked up his life. Again.
TBC
Thoughts? I thought I'd try something that was kind of action-ish.
A/N: I don't really know ANYTHING about racing, or cars, so I'm learning as I go – that said, if anyone out there has some knowledge and some time I'd love to pick your brain. For now all my knowledge is courtesy of wikipedia and Need For Speed: Carbon
Also: underage drinking is bad. Drinking and driving is bad. Drugs are bad. Street racing is bad. So, nobody do those things… also, littering is bad.