Chapter Two: Part of the System
Notes: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Quatre-San, because she just gave me the coolest sticker EVER. Thanks Quatre-San! BTW, this whole story is based on reality. Cadets exists, and so does Sgt. Passmore (that's me!) Care to know more about the program? Please visit my site, http://www.geocities.com/maxwellslittlesister/thunder.html
"Hi Trowa," a female voice said behind him. He whirled, pulling his gun from the small of his back and training it on the girl in front of him. He had enough time to recognize the red-headed girl who had invited him before she grabbed the barrel of the gun, pointed it at a wall and bodily dragged him into the room she had come from. A lesser man would have been knocked off balance, but this was Trowa Barton. As it was, he felt pretty off balance by this strange girl's actions. Normal people didn't grab the barrel of a gun that was pointed at their face.
"Put that away," the girl hissed, releasing the gun. The strange mix of fury and fear prompted him to suddenly and inexplicably trust her, so he complied, and made the weapon disappear. His mind was whirling. Somehow he had been caught off guard by this… this… civilian! And then, to top off the day, he'd actually listened to her when she told him to disarm himself! Trowa was furious at himself, and at her as well. She smiled brightly at him, seemingly unaware of his rage, and introduced herself.
"I'm Sgt. Passmore," she said, "and since Mrs. Linit isn't here yet, I'll show you around." She grabbed her hat from a counter behind her and brushed past him, out of the room. At a loss, Trowa could do nothing but follow.
Sgt. Passmore walked up the hall the same way Trowa had come, pointing out the Administration office on the way. She took him across the foyer and pointed out Classroom B, telling Trowa that it was the recruit classroom. They walked down another hallway, and Sgt. Passmore pointed out Classroom A, the male bathroom, the canteen and Classroom C. They walked into the back garage, where all the cadets were gathered into chattering little groups. Sgt. Passmore pointed out the training office, band room, and Classroom D. Some of the cadets were staring curiously at the new guy standing next to Sgt. Passmore, wondering why he was being escorted around the building. Trowa simply ignored them, constructing a map of the building in his mind. As he filled in the pieces, he realized that the building was a large square, with Classroom A in the center. Sgt. Passmore started across the garage, and Trowa followed, already knowing where she was headed. She was chattering to him about something, but he wasn't really listening. In his opinion she talked too much. He was already mad at her for taking his control of the situation away from him. His rage boiled anew, his hands clenched into fists, and in a sudden flash of clear thinking Trowa realized that they were in Classroom D, and Sgt. Passmore had stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and was looking at him innocently, unaware of his wish to throttle her with his bare hands. He stared at her, one green eye meeting two hazel. She looked away first, glancing through the window in the door. Trowa gloated: he had won! She had looked away first! She was… gone? In a flurry of activity, she had burst through the door and disappeared, letting the door fall gently shut behind her. Trowa stood rooted to the spot; his jaw almost dropped. Never before had someone so easily stolen his composure and control. What was worse? She didn't even know that she was doing it. He deflated, posture sinking, and put on his indifferent mask. He would give up… for now. He would infiltrate the system, and get Miss Queen-of-the-World Sgt. Passmore when she'd least expect it.
* * *
Sgt. Passmore stood in supply, laughing silently to herself. 'He doesn't recognize me!' she thought gleefully. 'Just watch all the fun I'm going to have!'
Notes: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Quatre-San, because she just gave me the coolest sticker EVER. Thanks Quatre-San! BTW, this whole story is based on reality. Cadets exists, and so does Sgt. Passmore (that's me!) Care to know more about the program? Please visit my site, http://www.geocities.com/maxwellslittlesister/thunder.html
"Hi Trowa," a female voice said behind him. He whirled, pulling his gun from the small of his back and training it on the girl in front of him. He had enough time to recognize the red-headed girl who had invited him before she grabbed the barrel of the gun, pointed it at a wall and bodily dragged him into the room she had come from. A lesser man would have been knocked off balance, but this was Trowa Barton. As it was, he felt pretty off balance by this strange girl's actions. Normal people didn't grab the barrel of a gun that was pointed at their face.
"Put that away," the girl hissed, releasing the gun. The strange mix of fury and fear prompted him to suddenly and inexplicably trust her, so he complied, and made the weapon disappear. His mind was whirling. Somehow he had been caught off guard by this… this… civilian! And then, to top off the day, he'd actually listened to her when she told him to disarm himself! Trowa was furious at himself, and at her as well. She smiled brightly at him, seemingly unaware of his rage, and introduced herself.
"I'm Sgt. Passmore," she said, "and since Mrs. Linit isn't here yet, I'll show you around." She grabbed her hat from a counter behind her and brushed past him, out of the room. At a loss, Trowa could do nothing but follow.
Sgt. Passmore walked up the hall the same way Trowa had come, pointing out the Administration office on the way. She took him across the foyer and pointed out Classroom B, telling Trowa that it was the recruit classroom. They walked down another hallway, and Sgt. Passmore pointed out Classroom A, the male bathroom, the canteen and Classroom C. They walked into the back garage, where all the cadets were gathered into chattering little groups. Sgt. Passmore pointed out the training office, band room, and Classroom D. Some of the cadets were staring curiously at the new guy standing next to Sgt. Passmore, wondering why he was being escorted around the building. Trowa simply ignored them, constructing a map of the building in his mind. As he filled in the pieces, he realized that the building was a large square, with Classroom A in the center. Sgt. Passmore started across the garage, and Trowa followed, already knowing where she was headed. She was chattering to him about something, but he wasn't really listening. In his opinion she talked too much. He was already mad at her for taking his control of the situation away from him. His rage boiled anew, his hands clenched into fists, and in a sudden flash of clear thinking Trowa realized that they were in Classroom D, and Sgt. Passmore had stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and was looking at him innocently, unaware of his wish to throttle her with his bare hands. He stared at her, one green eye meeting two hazel. She looked away first, glancing through the window in the door. Trowa gloated: he had won! She had looked away first! She was… gone? In a flurry of activity, she had burst through the door and disappeared, letting the door fall gently shut behind her. Trowa stood rooted to the spot; his jaw almost dropped. Never before had someone so easily stolen his composure and control. What was worse? She didn't even know that she was doing it. He deflated, posture sinking, and put on his indifferent mask. He would give up… for now. He would infiltrate the system, and get Miss Queen-of-the-World Sgt. Passmore when she'd least expect it.
* * *
Sgt. Passmore stood in supply, laughing silently to herself. 'He doesn't recognize me!' she thought gleefully. 'Just watch all the fun I'm going to have!'