(A/N: Sorry this took so long folks! I'm competing for the computer on a tight work/school schedule, so please bear with me! I hope this next chappie is up to your standards and so, ON WITH THE FIC!)
"Mmmm…nah." Duo sighed tiredly, opening his eyes to find the leather straps removed and that he had tossed and turned until his feet rested against the headboard.
"Man, aside from the metallic taste in my mouth, I feel great." Duo remarked, easing himself out of bed slowly, "I guess I was more exhausted than I thought."
His first instinct was to go look out the window, but he quick quashed it down, dismissing it as early morning paranoia.
"Mimi was right. Sleep depravation really is addling my brain." He mumbled, making his way to the door, yawning loudly, "Wonder what time it is?"
"It's a quota past t'ree, Mistuh Maxwell."
Duo jumped about fifteen feet in the air with yelp, before turning to find Dawson, the same behemoth from the night before who had both restrained and drugged him, watching him closely from a chair in the corner.
"Wh-what're you doing here, Dawson?" Duo asked nervously, doing his best to ignore the fact that the man servants muscles rivaled that of Lieutenant Armstrong's and that if you cocked your head to the side, he looked just like him only far less friendly with far less hair (he shaves his head)
"Sugino-jo ohdud me t' watch ya." Dawson replied easily, "Wanted make shuh ya rested."
"I…I see." Duo replied nervously as he inched his way back into bed, "W-well, I'll just be going…back to sleep now. Yeah, that's it. Sleep. Well, goodnight."
"Sleep well, Mistuh Maxwell." Dawson replied ominously, staring at the former body guard intensely from his seat in the corner.
Duo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, until Mimiru returned from the grocery store two hours later.
"OUCH!" Misaki shrieked as a pin stabbed her side.
"OH! I am so sorry!" the seamstress gasped in alarm as she quickly withdrew her hand, "Are you alright?"
"She's hemorrhaging from her latissimus dorsai, what do you think?" Mitsuki snorted as the poor woman began to hyperventilate.
"Mitsuki! Knock it off!" Misaki snapped, sending a withering look at her sister, "It's alright, it just surprised me that's all. I'm fine."
"Oh…o-okay. If you're sure." The dressmaker said wheezilly, trying bring herself down from her heightened state of distress, "I-I'll just go and…yeah."
With that she left Misaki to disrobe from the wedding gown and, presumably, prep her workstation (but more than likely had run to the bathroom to finish her panic attack)
"Honestly….don't demoralize the tailor!" Mikura snorted, shaking her head disapprovingly as she assisted Misaki with the zipper.
"Aw…but you need to rattle their cages every once in awhile." Mitsuki smirked, "It's good for'em!"
"No, it's mean!" Misaki said huffily, gathering the white concoction in her arms, "For the love of Pete! The last thing I need is for my seamstress to quit on me."
"Yeah, you've already scared off the caterer." Mikura said, ticking off on her fingers, "And the florist, and the priest-"
"Oh dear GAWD I have no wedding." Misaki moaned slumping to the floor.
"Relaaax." Mitsuki grinned with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I worse comes to worse, we can always have Mimiru do everything."
Miles away…
"ATCHOI!"
"Eh? Mimiru are you catching a cold?" Duo asked, raising an eyebrow at her as she walked with him down the hall.
"No…one of my twisted sisters just volunteered me for something." Mimiru replied irritably, rubbing her nose to ease away the itch.
"Don't volunteer her for crap she probably doesn't want to do!" Misaki snapped at Mitsuki as she hopped off the stool nearly tripping over the enormous train of the gown in her arms.
"Probably? Try definitely." Mikura snickered, "I mean sure, she did all the cooking when we were younger, but that was because we were kitchen retarded."
"Okay Mimi's out then." Mitsuki shrugged, "I was only trying to come up with some cheap, effective solutions."
"We'll figure something out." Misaki sighed.
"Talk, Catalonia! How did you escape from the L4 Moon Base? Why were you tailing Duo Maxwell? TALK DAMMIT!"
Dorothy glowered up at the interrogator before a tiny smirk began dancing on her lips as she calmly stuck her tongue out at him.
"Sir, we've been at this for over eight hours." The interrogator moaned to his supervisor as he allowed his head to fall into his hands, "Do we have permission to use truth serum yet?"
"It's still in the works, Lezowski. Just keep at it." His overseer sighed tensely from behind him, massaging the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the wall.
Dorothy then began rocking her chair so that it tapped out a very repetitive, very nerve-grinding beat on the floor, a very malicious smirk on her lips as the interrogator and his supervisor involuntarily twitched each time the chair leg hit the floor.
After about five minutes of watching her interrogator squirm, there came a knock that was not from Dorothy's chair.
"Sirs?" a rather official looking man said, holding an armload of paperwork, "We've just received the word from the higher ups. It's a go for the truth serum."
"FINALLY!" The interrogator whooped as the supervisor slumped in sheer relief.
"Damn." Dorothy muttered, crossing her arms irritably and sinking down sulkily in her chair, "Just when it was getting interesting, too."
"Geez, Duo. Don't do that ever again, okay?" Mimiru sighed, as she set a bowl of soup down in front of the Preventer, "Seriously, I thought some psycho, serial murder had broken into the house and ssuffocated you in your sleep."
"No such luck. You're stuck with me." Duo smirked, taking up his spoon and diving into the bowl of soup before him.
"You know I don't 'like you' like you right?" Mimiru asked, taking the seat across from him.
"Yup." Duo nodded, holding the bowl to his lips and tilting the remaining contents into his mouth, "But that's something I fully intend to change."
"Oh joy." Mimiru sighed, rolling her eyes and accepting the bowl he held out to her, "You mean to tell me that on top of teaching a bunch of third rates to dance, who don't even have any passion for it in the first place I might add, I have to deal with you? Lovely."
"Yeah, it's a tragedy." Duo smirked, propping his head in one hand, "Having little ole me trailing around after you until you finally get sick of telling me off and either A) agree to go out with me or B) have a meltdown moment and go off on me? Yeah, I dare say you're in for one helluva time."
Mimiru looked at the former pilot as though she was seriously considering shoving the empty soup bowl she held down his throat, but shook her head dismissively and walked off towards the kitchen while muttering under her breath.
"Bring back crescent rolls!" Duo yelled after her.
-fyyyyuuuuuFWAK-
"Ouch!" Duo hissed, clutching his forehead as the projectile object fell to the floor.
"Say please next time." Mimiru called from the kitchen, tossing and catching another crescent roll while smirking out at him.
"Oh god. What else do we need to register for?" Misaki moaned, flipping through a dilapidated notebook, before viciously twisting it in her hands, "Did we already do silverware? I forget."
"Yes, Misaki, now relax." Wufei sighed, growing weary from the seemingly endless hours of shopping.
"You're telling me to relax?" Misaki asked, looking very shocked, "I must be more strung up than I thought."
"Well the fact that you haven't noticed that you've come very close to tearing that notebook in half is what tipped me off." Wufei said dryly, eyeing the noted pad with a small tear forming at it's top.
"…whups." Misaki said sheepishly as Wufei plucked it from her hands, "I didn't know I was THAT stressed."
"Well the fact remains that you are." Wufei sighed, "And to answer your earlier question, not only did you register for silverware, you registered us for five different sets. Honestly, how many sets of flatware does one couple need?"
"Hehehe…um-uh how are we for dishware?" Misaki asked as her voice raised an octave, her face coloring faintly.
"You registered us for every piece of china, in every color, print and size under the sun." Wufei replied dully.
"Eek! H-how about toasters?" Misaki asked, face reddening even more.
"You already tagged four." Wufei sighed, scratching the back of his head with the pilfered notebook, "And please don't ask about linens, blenders, or glassware…please."
"…sorry." Misaki squeaked, trying to scrunch down as much of her 5' 6" as humanly possible with causing a scene…but doing both of those things at once proved to be impossible as they were soon surrounded by worried customers.
"Is she okay?"
"Is she sick?"
"Did he just hit her?"
"Ahh, the abusive sort. Tsk. Such a shame."
"Oh fantastic." Wufei groaned, lowering himself down to his fiancée's level, "Misaki? Come on. Let's just finish this up and get out of here okay?"
"But…but I've mucked things up so much already!" Misaki whimpered, trying to hide her face with her arms.
"We can unregister for the stuff we don't want, you know." Wufei sighed as the whispering around them grew louder.
"…really?" Misaki gaped, looking up at him.
"Huhhhhh…" Mikura sighed, flopping around the sofa, "Huhhh…Huhhhhhhhh."
"Pretty big sighs." Trowa remarked, exiting the kitchen and setting an extra Ramune on the table, "Anything wrong?"
"…no." Mikura replied before letting loose another noisy sigh and tossing again, "It's just…"
"Just what?" Trowa asked, quirking an eyebrow at her before sitting down in front of the sofa.
"It's just…well…." She loosed another groan, before flopping over so that her back was to him, "…we always do things together…and we're always running into each other…so…"
"So what?" Trowa asked, shifting around to stare at the back of her head, "What's on your mind?"
"Are we together? Are we…or…" Mikura let herself trail off before sitting bolt upright, "You know what? Just forget I said anything. I was just being stupid. Oh, and would you look at the time! I'm gonna be late for work! Gotta go!"
She shot off the sofa and out the door (forgetting her shoes I might add) leaving a very perplexed Trowa in her dust.
However, it only took him a moment or two to fill the holes of her question and, grabbing Mikura's shoes, he dashed out after her.
He didn't get far because not a block away from his house, she was sitting, hunched up on the curb, holding her bleeding foot and shaking with dry sobs.
Pausing to catch his breath, he asked-
"What happened?"
Looking up at him tearfully, she sobbed-
"Br-broken gl-gl-glass!"
Bending down to inspect the injury, he found that the shard of shattered beer bottle was still lodged in her foot – deep, but not deep enough to warrant a hospital visit.
Scooping her up, he carried her back inside the apartment complex and into the waiting elevator.
Once back in the apartment, despite Mikura's wails of "don't touch it! don't touch iiiiiiiiiit!", Trowa carefully dislodged the glass and set to work dressing the wound.
"You know…you really should be more careful." Trowa commented as he fastened the bandages in place.
"I know…'m sorry." Mikura hiccuped, not looking at him.
"Now…do you want me to answer the question you posed to me earlier?" Trowa asked offhandedly.
"Eh?" Mikura blinked as Trowa gave her a light kiss on the forehead making her face surge with color.
"There's your answer." He said calmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Heero…there's a matter I really think we need to address." Relena said curtly, folding her hands together, "It's about Michiru. I don't like you spending so much – Hey! Are you listening to me?"
Heero stared out the window of the restaurant they were seated in, completely ignoring her.
"HEERO!" Relena cried demandingly, slamming her hands down on the table to get his attention.
Heero twitched a little and slid his eyes in her general direction, giving her a rather distasteful stare.
"You are causing a scene, Relena." He said calmly, noting several couples muttering under there breath at the Vice Foreign Minister's outrageous display.
"Well you are shutting me out Heero!" Relelna snapped, getting within an inch of his face (whew…someone needs a breath mint), "You are MY boyfriend! I am entitled to the right to be pissed when you go off gallivanting with another woman!"
"…just because you say I'm something doesn't make it so." Heero replied dully, continuing to stare out the window.
"What was that?" Relena growled, leaning in closer…if that was at all humanly possible.
"Just because you arbitrarily decided that I was your boyfriend nine years ago, doesn't mean that I am." Heero replied calmly, hailing a waiter as he spoke.
"Whuh-WHAAAAAAAT?" Relena shrieked as all eyes turned themselves on her, "But-but you took me on all those dates- all those places!"
"Correction." Heero said serenely as the waiter refilled his ice water, "You decided 'we' were going somewhere, decided to call it a date, when I had nothing better to do at the time."
Relena's mouth opened and closed as Heero calmly downed his ice water and asked for the check.
"I'll be paying for my own meal, Vice Foreign Minister." He said calmly, extracting a credit card from his wallet, "I trust you have the funds to pay for your own. I bid you good evening."
(A/N: Heero has a 'talk' with Michiru, bachelor/ bachelorette parties -strippers! wooot!- and much much more! R&R!)