Disclaimer: This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.
A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.

Blood Ties

Chapter 20

Walking into his bedroom, Quatre cradled a dozen little black film canisters and water balloons, filled with a powdery substance, against his chest with both arms. The young man had to close the bathroom door behind him with his foot.

"You know…" Trowa was sprawled out on the wide bed thumbing through one of his books. "Some of the information in here is really inaccurate. But then that's not surprising, considering most of these books are written by mortals. They just don't have the experience nor the capability to fully understand the subjects they are writing about."

"You can do a better job?" Quatre gently set his load down on his desk and carefully started moving one item at the time into his backpack. "Maybe you should pick up writing as a hobby; pen down your own memoirs or something. But it will have to wait until tomorrow. We are leaving."

"Where are we going?" the demon closed the book and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"As far as Father is concerned, we are going to a study-group meeting that might last so long that I will be sleeping over at my friend's house."

"And where are we really going?" Trowa rose to his feet, watching the young man suspiciously.

"Back to Howard's bookstore of course. You didn't think I would leave him there all by himself for the night?"

"What is this?" Raising one of the water balloons to his nose the demon cringed at the pungent smell. "Garlic salt?"

"Garlic Powder," Quatre corrected. "100% pure, organic and raised with love. Damya would kill me if she found out I raided her spice cabinet."

Trowa frowned and gestured at the small black plastic containers. "BBQ sauce?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Holy water. I had Father Marcus from St Catherine's bless a whole gallon of it for me. I told him it was for…well; let's just say I wasn't completely truthful."

"It appears you're expecting trouble."

"I hope not, but I'd rather be prepared for the worst case scenario." Quatre stowed the last of his 'weapons' in his backpack and then gave the demon a determined look. "Are you ready?"

Trowa folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the desk. "What makes you think I would let you go into a dangerous situation like that?"

"What makes you think you could stop me?" Quatre shot back, his eyes glaring.

"I could call your father and tell him the study-group meeting was canceled."

"I could turn you into a mouse, something for Oscar to play with when he comes back." The blonde sighed. "Face it Trowa, I'll go; like it or not. You can either come with me to protect me, or you can stay here and wait for me to come back."

The demon gave a defeated grunt. "At least take this," he growled as he reached under the bed to pull out a small linen bag."

Curiously, Quatre checked the content and raised one eyebrow. "Ash wood stakes? Did you make them?"

"Why bother, they sell those online these days."

"Online? Wait, you need a credit card to buy something online. You have a credit card?"

Trowa nearly rolled his eyes. "I have been visiting this world for centuries before I met you. Of course I have a credit card."

"I will try to wrap my head around that later, I think. For now, we should be going. Umm…thanks for the…stakes," Quatre smirked "and let's hope they are as good as they say."

####

The pick-up truck he had rented wasn't exactly a luxury car, but it would come in handy to transport his bike and a few other things on his way back. The way things looked right now, Heero had a feeling that he might end up staying a bit longer in Orange County than he had planned. It wasn't a bad place to live really; a bit pricy and high class in some areas, but quiet and peaceful in most with plenty of parks and wildlife around. He could see himself renting a little apartment somewhere in the area, just to have a place to come back to every once in a while.

Of course all of that depended on what kind of information Howard was able to come up with for him.

Howard! He suddenly realized that he never left an address or any other way to contact him with the old man. I guess I should at least have given him my phone number." Heero checked the time. "I wonder if he is still at the store. If not I guess I could just leave a note.

The young man made a u-turn at the next corner, just before the onramp to the I-5 and headed back south toward the little bookstore.

####

"What?" Duo Maxwell asked as he refilled the whiskey glass with Wild Turkey. "Did I forget to trim my nose hair or something?"

"Huh?"

"You have been looking at me strangely ever since you got here. What's going on?"

"Uh…nothing really. Sorry!" Milliardo gave the bar owner a sheepish grin. He looked around making sure that he couldn't be overheard before leaning a little forward. "Duo, do you know wh…who I am?" He almost said 'what' but stopped himself at the last minute.

The braided young man gave him a strange look nevertheless. He pulled back the glass that he had just slid toward his customer.

"Are you drunk already? It's a bit early for that, isn't it?"

"I'm not drunk." The blonde assured him. "Just feeling a little…philosophical I guess."

Duo still eyed him a little warily but at least he didn't stop him when Milliardo reached for his drink. At the other side of the bar someone ordered two Margaritas and he turned away to fill the order. When he returned a few moments later Milliardo was sipping at his whiskey.

"Did something happen to your car again?"

"No…no that's just a rental. I didn't want to take the corvette where I was going."

"Alright."

Duo opened a new bottle of tequila to replace the one he had just emptied, then pulled out a wooden board and a knife to cut some more lemons and limes.

Milliardo turned around in his chair checking the room. As he let his eyes wander over the other patrons he tried to guess whether they were human or not…or what for that matter they actually were.

Crazy, he thought. The idea would have never occurred to me before.

####

Treize Khushrenada was about to climb back into his Limo when a little silver sports car pulled up and parked a little offside next to Howard's old pick-up.

The incubus prince could feel Luther tense beside him. He reached out to touch the bodyguard's arm, putting on a smile as he recognized the young man exiting from the passenger seat with a large pizza box in his hand and a backpack over his shoulder.

"Mister Winner, what a surprise. Still working at such a late hour? That's what I call dedication."

The blonde gave him a glare of open hostility. Treize raised one eyebrow in surprise.

"Did I do or say something to offend you?" he inquired politely.

"Excuse me." The young man replied stiffly. "I'm in a bit of a hurry and I don't feel very sociable tonight. Triton!"

A tall, slender, creature put himself between the young Winner heir and the incubus. His expression neutral but every muscle in his body tense and ready to act in the blink of an eye should the need arise. There was no question that he would protect his young charge with his life.

Treize could feel the same powerful aura resonate from him he had felt from the little gray dog that attacked him at the Winner mansion. His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes following the two men as they disappeared inside the little bookstore.

"An Ancient One for a bodyguard?" Luther mumbled, clearly in awe. "Now that makes me feel very… inadequate."

"If you don't mind; you can angst about your shortcomings later," the incubus prince replied dryly, "after you dropped me off at home."

##

"I knew it was him." Quatre grumbled to himself as he stepped into the store. "Howard?! You know the front door isn't locked?"

The old man appeared at the door of his little office. "What are you two doing here?" he looked at Trowa. "I thought I told you to take him home."

"He did." Quatre smirked. "But now we are back. You didn't think we would leave you here by yourself, all night, did you? And…" He held up the cardboard box in his hand. "We brought pizza."

"You shouldn't have come."

"We ran into Treize Khushrenada on our way in. What was he doing here?" the blonde inquired innocently.

"That is, as I already told you, none of your business," Howard grumbled. Then his eyes went to the pizza box. "What kind of pizza?

"Hawaiian," Quatre replied with a victorious smile. "And pepperoni and cheese on the other half. Where do you want me to put it?"

"Put it on my desk." The older man gestured for them to follow him into his office. "There should be napkins and paper plates left from lunch somewhere."

The blond set down the box, put his backpack into the corner next to his chair where he could easily reach it and started looking for the plates and napkins.

"So, what are we going to do all night?" Trowa asked as he pulled up an extra chair from the other side of the room. "Aside from eating pizza that is?"

"I thought of that, too." Quatre announced with a grin as he fished a deck of cards from his backpack. "Anyone up for a game of cards?"

###

"Are you expecting anyone else?" Trowa suddenly asked while Howard was shuffling the cards for another game.

Quatre, who was sitting with his back to the door, turned his head. Howard had to crank his neck to look over the young man's shoulder.

A blue pick-up truck had stopped in front of the store. As they watched, a young man with dark hair climbed out of the cab. He took a few steps, slowed and stopped to study the broken storefront window in a mixture of curiosity and puzzlement.

"That's Heero," Quatre exclaimed, and then directed at Trowa. "I told you about him, remember?"

"I wonder what he is doing here at this hour?" The store owner mused as he rose to his feet and shuffled across the store to unlock the door.

"The werewolf." Quatre mouthed, and Trowa nodded. He had gathered as much.

"Heero, what brings you here?"

"You are still here, good." The young man stepped closer. "I realized you have no way of contacting me if you need to. So I figured I would give you my phone number before I leave."

"Come in!" Howard suggested, waving him through.

Following the old man back to his office Heero threw a look back at the glassless window.

"What happened?" He wanted to know.

"Long story." Howard made a dismissive gesture.

"Hey again." Quatre gave the young man a friendly smile. Trowa just nodded at him.

"Pizza?"

"No thanks; this will take but a minute. I'm about to head out of town," Heero declined.

"Really? Where are you going?" Quatre reached for another slice of the pie.

"Up north, Yosemite," the young man explained as he scribbled his phone number down on a piece of paper Howard had handed him.

"Now?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Traffic is going to be a nightmare," Trowa told him.

"He is right," Howard replied with a nod. "It will be bumper to bumper once you get closer to LA. You'd be better of waiting another hour or two. Trust me, you won't get there any faster if you leave now."

"Hmm…" Heero scratched his head. "I guess I'd rather wait here than in traffic." He eyed the rest of the pizza. "Is that Hawaiian?"

"Extra bacon," Quatre confirmed. "Help yourself. You play poker?"

"Occasionally." The young man replied as he grabbed a paper plate and filled it with a slice of pizza that was almost bigger than the plate itself.

"Great, we were getting tired of playing 3 13."

"Because you were cheating." Trowa pointed out.

"I wasn't cheating, you just don't know the rules, 'Mister I-have-lived-for-so-much-longer-than-you-and-don't even-know-how-to-play-cards'.

"Stop it before I put both of you in a time-out." Howard barked as he picked up the deck and started to deal. "See, that's why I usually don't do sleep-overs."

Quatre smirked. This evening promised to be a lot more fun than he had feared. Or so it seemed until both Trowa and Heero suddenly turned toward the door.

"Howard?!" the demon said seriously.

Another car had stopped across the street. A man, probably in his late 30s, with an olive complexion and dark hair climbed out from behind the wheel and slowly walked toward the store. He was dressed in a dark suit that was supposed to look like Armani but screamed 'knock off', and wore his hair pulled together in a short pony tail.

"Ortega! Damn it!" Howard exclaimed as he jumped to his feet faster than one would have expected from a man his age. "The three of you, stay in here, and don't even think about following me unless I tell you to," he ordered before he closed the office door behind him and went to intercept the visitor.

"Who the hell is Ortega?" Heero wanted to know, looking from Trowa to Quatre and back.

Both of them shook their heads.

"Beats me." Trowa said. "But Howard told Quatre about some guy who is trying to pressure him into selling the shop."

"Is that why the window is broken?"

"Shush. I'm can't hear a thing with you talking." Quatre had gotten up from his chair and was leaning against the closed door, his left ear pressed against the wood.

"Quatre!"

"What?" the blonde asked innocently. "He told us not to follow him; nobody mentioned anything about not listening."

###

"What do you want, Ortega?" Howard asked, an annoyed edge to his voice. "I told you already you are not welcome here."

"My, my such hostility." Quincy Ortega clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "And here I was just coming by to check on you, Old Man. I heard you had a bit of trouble lately."

He simply walked past Howard into the store, looking around with an almost bored expression. "Can't say I haven't warned you. This is a bad neighborhood."

"Yeah, and it's getting worse by the minute. Get out of here before I call the cops."

"And tell them what?" Ortega buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Are you really just stubborn or stupid? In any case, my …'employer' wants me to tell you that he is willing to sweeten the deal and pay you an extra 5000 if you sign the contract tonight."

"He can take his money and shove it. I would tell you to go to hell, but that's where you probably came from in the first place. By now you should have realized, I don't frighten easily. And now get your ass out of my store!"

"Don't frighten easily, huh?" Ortega snorted as he turned to leave. "We will see about that."

He walked out of the door, raised one of his hands in some sort of signal, and then all hell broke loose.

###

Both Trowa and Heero sensed them coming at the same moment, only the demon reacted an instant faster.

"Out of the way!"

Trowa stretched out his hand and without ever touching the large desk, slammed it against the wall, blocking the back door. He picked up two bookshelves in the same way, first one from the left wall, then another from the right, adding them to the pile and forming a solid barricade.

"Impressive!" Heero remarked, already pulling his t-shirt over his head. "I take it you are not human."

"That should keep them out for a while," the demon replied. "I sense at least a dozen of them."

"There are more in front." Heero nodded as he slipped off his shoes and dropped his jeans. He wasn't wearing anything beneath.

The air shimmered for just a moment then Heero the naked was gone, replaced by Heero the werewolf, a magnificent creature the size of a Great Dane, with brownish black fur and amber colored eyes.

"Stay here!" Trowa told Quatre who already had grabbed his backpack and was unloading his weaponry. "Keep an eye on the door and whatever you do, don't let them come in."

"Got it!"

The blonde had been startled for just one moment, but he had managed to suppress his fear quickly and replace that initial shock with determination. Last time, when he was attacked by those vampires he had felt helpless. This time he was prepared and ready to fight.

Trowa didn't bother opening the office door in the conventional way. He simply blew through the solid wood as though it was rice paper and stormed into the shop followed by the large wolf. Their unexpected appearance caught the attackers, a group of ferocious vampires, off guard. Heero pounced at a tall vamp with long, greasy hair, taking him down and pinning him to the floor with his sheer weight alone, just as the creature was about to reach for Howard. Two dark shadows flew over his head, vampires tossed aside like rag dolls by Trowa. They crashed through the already broken store window, taking out a little more wood and whatever glass was still remaining in the frame. One of them hit the sidewalk with a splat and the cracking of broken bones, the other landed on the blue pick-up, hard enough to dent the hood and set off the alarm.

Heero had no time to worry about his car now. The creature beneath him still had some fight left. The large wolf growled, pressed his fangs into the vampire's neck and tore out it's throat with one violent motion. He could taste sticky blood and feel the creature tremble as it died. Abandoning the still twitching body the wolf jumped up, toward his next target.

"Go, help out Quatre! There are more trying to get in from the back." Trowa yelled at the storeowner, as he was being rushed by three or four attackers.

Howard nodded. He moved toward the cash register and, seemingly out of nowhere, pulled out a large gauge shotgun. He didn't see the creature charging him as much as he felt it. The vamp was so close he could almost smell it's foul breath when he spun around. The old man pumped his weapon and pulled the trigger. The shotgun bellowed; it sounded almost like an explosion in the close quarters of the store, and the vampire suddenly had a hole in his chest the size of a baseball. The creature stumbled backward, staring down at itself in what could almost be described as astonishment, fell to the floor and died in convulsions.

"Hurt's, doesn't it?" Howard growled. "Home-made ammo, blessed silver. Anyone else want a taste?"

Meanwhile the group in the back was trying to break through Trowa's fortification. It sounded like the building was being hit by a freight train…repeatedly. The wood started to splinter. Suddenly, a grotesque looking hand with long claw-like fingers, and talons crusted with dirt and dried blood pushed its way through, followed by a victorious holler.

Quatre, who had built himself a little barricade out of a couple of filing cabinets and chairs, swallowed but didn't hesitate. He slightly cracked open the lid of one of the little film canisters then tossed the container toward the door. The loose lid popped off as it hit the wood, spilling it's liquid content all over the vampire's arm. Flesh started to smoke and blister as the holy water began to eat through it like acid. The creature hollered again; this time in pain and fury. The arm was jerked back but it was only a momentary reprieve. The door was beginning to crumble under the sheer power of the attack. More vampires tried to push their way in, only to be met by more of Quatre's holy water and garlic projectiles. Their roars and screams of anguish filled the night.

"Nice arsenal!" Howard ducked down next to the young man, reloading his weapon. "Do you always carry that stuff around with you?"

"Only when I expect company." the blonde smirked.

One of the vamps was almost half way through the door now. Howard's shotgun bellowed again. The load hit the creature in the head, taking out most of its face and a good portion of its throat as well. Dark blood squirted from the wound, covering the nearby walls, and the vampire started to crumble to ashes.

Quatre swallowed again, trying to fight down nausea along with fear. How many of them were there? It was only a matter of time now that they would make their way inside. He wanted to call out for Trowa, but he knew that the demon probably had his hands full on his own.

Suddenly they could hear fighting noises from the outside along with short bellows and growls.

###

It didn't take Heero long to realize that Trowa was quite capable of holding his own in the store. The demon, or whatever he was, fought with a speed and power that made the werewolf look like it was sleepwalking.

Heero leaped through the window and circled the building to find about a dozen or so vampires, some of them maimed or dying, trying to break through the back door. With a vicious growl the large wolf jumped forwards, powerful fangs closing in an instant. His victim tumbled to the floor, hamstrung and screaming. It brought up a pair of arms that somehow seemed out of shape with the body, trying to grab Heero as he leaped over it toward the next vampire. Within moments the werewolf was surrounded by bleeding and dying vamps. One of them grabbed him from behind, picking the large wolf up as though he weighed nothing and tossed him against the crumbling door. The impact knocked the air out of him. He whimpered in pain, dazed. Above him in the door was a large hole, through which he could see light and movement.

"Heero!" A voice that he recognized as belonging to the young store employee, called out from inside the office. "Stay down!"

He pressed himself to the ground even as the vampire drew closer, stretching out his long arms to pick him up again. Something small and round came flying through the hole in the door, hitting the creature in the chest and exploding on impact into a cloud of powdery dust. The vampire screamed, it's skin started to dissolve slowly, like a snail that had been sprinkled with salt.

Some of the garlic powder fell onto Heero, burning his eyes and his sensitive nose. He whimpered and sneezed as he jumped to his feet, then charged the screaming vamp and ripped out his throat, taking if mercifully out of it's misery. By now most of the creatures were down, and those who still had legs left to run with did so. Heero growled, but did not follow them.

###

Suddenly it turned quiet. Quatre, garlic bomb in hand, slowly lowered his arm.

"Is it over?" he asked, not even realizing that he was whispering.

Howard was still holding on to his shotgun.

"You can come out now." Trowa's voice came from the other room.

Slowly Quatre rose from behind his barricade and followed Howard into the store. He turned his head, taking in all the damage and destruction. There were books and magazines everywhere. Many of the shelves were tumbled over, some broken.

I just finished sorting those books! A little voice in the back of his mind screamed.

Most of the vampire corpses had already turned into what they should have been long ago, dust. Trowa was standing by the door. He was dirty and had blood stains on his clothes. Quatre wasn't sure if it was his own blood or someone else's.

"Are you alright?"

The tall demon nodded. "A little out of breath."

Across the street a car engine was starting, a pair of headlights flashed to life.

"That's Ortega!" Howard cried out. "Don't let him leave yet."

Trowa looked at the old man, then across the street, and dashed outside. He knew he probably wouldn't reach the Ford before it drove off, so he didn't even try. Instead he extended his hands, reached out with his power and lifted the whole car into the air like a toy before tossing it into the brick wall behind it. Metal cracked and screeched as the vehicle tumbled a few times before landing on its side.

Ortega must have been wearing his seatbelt, because he came crawling out of the wreck within a few seconds, shaken and dazed, but apparently unharmed. He tried to scramble to his feet but was knocked down again when a large, dark shadow slammed into him. The impact threw him back onto the ground where Heero kept him, looming over him like a bad omen. The werewolf gave an angry growl. Flames burned in those amber eyes, his muzzle covered in vampire blood.

Ortega's left hand twitched, and suddenly with a metallic click the switch blade of a stiletto knife snapped open. With an angry grunt the thug drove the blade into the wolf's shoulder.

Heero let out a yelp of pain that turned into a deep growl as his fangs closed around Ortega's wrist. Quincy Ortega screamed and dropped the weapon. The wolf released the man's arm to focus on his throat.

"Don't kill him!"

Howard's voice reached him at the last moment and he pulled away.

"In spite of all appearances, he is a human. " Howard spat as he stepped closer. "A vile and disgusting creature, yes; but still human. Listen, Ortega, it's over. You lost. I don't want to see you or any of your creatures ever again. And just for your information...I've already sold the store. You can tell that to your 'employer'. And if he has a problem with it, he should go and take that up with Treize Khushrenada."

Quatre, who was standing near the entrance to the store, exchanged a surprised look with Trowa.

I guess, I was wrong after all. Treize is not the one behind Ortega and his vampires.

"Let him go, Heero," the old man demanded after one last disdainful look at the man on the ground.

The wolf hesitated, his eyes focused on the necklace around the thug's throat. There was something oddly familiar about that crucifix hanging from a silver chain. Finally he pulled away, growling as Ortega scrambled to his feet and took off.

Trowa's eyes followed the man until he disappeared into the darkness. Then he turned to Howard.

"You and Quatre should go inside while Heero and I take a look around the block... just to make sure there isn't anything else lurking in the shadows."

Howard nodded and even Quatre didn't have the energy to argue. Now that the adrenalin rush was tapering off he suddenly felt tired… very tired. He led the way into the store, with the old man following right behind.

"Did you really sell your store?"

"Don't worry, you still have a job. It's not like I'm going to close down or anything."

"But I don't get it. Why...?

A noise from the other side of the store alarmed the young man. Something was moving in the back. One of the vamps had been hiding in the shadows. Quatre jerked his head around just in time to see the creature push against one of the large bookshelves, tumbling it over with little effort. With an angry cry the blonde jumped out of the way before the heavy wooden piece could crack his skull open like a coconut.

"I just had finished sorting those books!" he screamed as he hurled his last remaining garlic bomb at the vampire, hitting the creature square in the chest.

The vampire wasn't stopped that easily. It let out a shriek and stumbled forward reaching for him. Quatre whipped out one of the wooden stakes he had stored in his back pocket and drove the pointed end of it into the creature's chest, slightly off center and a few inches above the breast bone. The vampire's mouth opened in a soundless scream as it crumbled to the ground, slowly turning to dust.

"Are you okay, kid?" Howard lightly touched the young man's shoulder.

"I killed it!" Quatre's hands were trembling when he dropped the stake to the floor. "I killed it, Howard."

"It wasn't alive anymore to begin with." the old man's voice was almost soft. "It lost or gave up its life a long time ago."

The silver gray wolf moved past them and disappeared into the backroom. Moments later Trowa was back as well. One look into Quatre's face told him that something wasn't right.

"What happened?"

"One of them was hiding in the back of the store." Howard explained. "Quatre took him out with a stake through the heart."

"See, who says I need you to protect me? I can take care of myself." The blonde managed a smirk, but the tremors in his voice betrayed his bravado. "I think I need some water."

Heero was tying his shoes when they walked into the office. Quatre picked up a paper cup and filled it with water from a dispenser that amazingly had survived the battle without springing a leak. He emptied the cup twice and his stomach began to settle. As his eyes fell to the floor he noticed a trail of fresh, dark, reddish brown spots. Someone was bleeding. Following the trail with his eyes it led him directly to where Heero was standing.

"You are hurt."

"Just a scratch." The young man tried to shrug, but flinched at the pain radiating from his shoulder. "Well maybe not a scratch but it will heal in a day or two. "

"You shouldn't drive like that. Let us take you home," Trowa suggested. "I don't think your car is in any condition to be driven anyway. I think I unloaded a couple of those vamps on its roof. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. It's just a rental. Good think I got the extra insurance, though. As far as I'm concerned it had been stolen this afternoon anyway."

"The cops are going to be here any minute," Howard pointed out. "Unless you feel like spending a few hours explaining to them what happened here you guys should probably be leaving now."

"What are you going to tell them happened?"

The old man just shrugged. "How would I know? I just got here myself."

"Let me just get my things very quickly."

As Heero grabbed his bag from the truck, Howard handed his shotgun off to Quatre. "Do me a favor and hold on to that for me. I don't want them to find it here right now."

"Sure thing. See you tomorrow."

"Don't be late, kid. There is a lot of cleaning up to do."

Quatre snorted in a mixture of amusement and irritation. "Thanks."

###

By the time 9 o clock rolled around Milliardo was on his fourth wild turkey, and bored. By now he was pretty sure he had figured out every other customer in the bar. Take the brunette in that dark spandex shirt and leather pants at the table in the corner; he just had to be from some kind of otherworldly realm. There was no way any human would even dream of wearing an outfit like that. And the tall guy talking to the bouncer was just too darn gorgeous to be a mere mortal.

Duo was standing just right of the blonde, mixing a couple of cocktails when he suddenly raised his head. Milliardo, sitting with his back to the door, couldn't see what he was looking at.

"A werewolf, an Ancient One and a demi god walk into a bar."

Milliardo, frowning slightly, waited for a few moments before pointing out: "Hey, I think your joke is missing the punch line."

"What?" Duo looked at him. "What joke?"

T.B.C.

Author's Note: