* Burning Roses. *

* Rating: Pg-13/ R for some points. (Beware The joke of this chapter.)

Pairings: Oh, lovely, we've got ourselves a triangle. Noooo, wait, it's better then that. It's a freaking rectangle!

Disclaimer: There is no disclaimer. Isn't that just mind-boggling? :: Idiot lays singed on the ground muttering things to himself and cursing Silver with all his worth. So, he burnt her papers to try and get warm. What's the big deal? Not like he was burning something important…:: But, I don't own anything. So don't sue unless you want two pieces of lint and a monkey. And No, you can't have my monkey. She's my baby so…So neah.

Summary:

Oh. O.O. Finals. X_x. Yikes, I feel for you. Every single iota of my being is oozing sympathy. School sucks more then just @$$ ::Evil snicker:: Well, anyways, Luck be with you. And if that don't work, you can start acting like you have rabies and start foaming at the mouth. It worked for me….

Hey, Join the club sister vamp! I'm so pale that everyone calls me the 'Albino Artist' And blood. ::Shivers:: Don't let me get into that. I have no idea when I became so sadistic. :: glares at one of the voices in her head, who is grinning like a maniac on some sort of happy dust, and whispers "It's all your fault!"::

I've always favored Heero and Usa myself, but I try to be a 'fair' author and give the other guys a chance. Well, except in Mamo-retarded-baka's case. Who's a psycho? You? Is that a bad thing? I think not. Stand up for the fact that you, my dear, are unique. I know a lot about insanity believe :: cackles like a hyena:: me. Oh thank you, I like to believe I have a ::quote fingers:: "Gift."

:: Silver walks in to the room, giant mug of French vanilla macho, with a peppermint candy stick in it in one hand and a bottle of aspirin in the other. She spots the new sign and quirks an eyebrow. "The hell? But I thought Pain and Misery were on vacation? What are they doing peddling here?" sees the discount and a blood vein throbs on her forehead, "50% off!!! Those IDIOTS! Those are my best torture devices. Oh……" Rips the cap off the bottle of aspirin with her teeth and downs a few. "Now, I have to go and buy all my stuff back. Bloody joy." (and there's that b-word! Again!)::

A freak. Just kidding. I think, that Slayers are the ones that like sharp Pointy wooden things, hate blood and don't care for sun block. I have but one comment for that….. Please don't steak me. I'm too young to be turned to dust and ashes. I'm innocent! WAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!  Don't worry about the hand basket. I burned it.

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction…. Seems to me that Duo just keeps digging himself deeper and deeper, and into walls no less. How much talent does that take? Well, tension runs thick and we have reached an interesting 'plot bump', if you will. Confrantion. So. What now?

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Chapter Twenty-Six. (We going all Da way, baby!)

The seconds crawled by trying desperately not to be noticed inching their way along, as two pairs jewel toned orbs spat fire and ice at one another, as well as other such things like daggers and swords and the occasional scythe and every other sharp instrument of death in the book. Across the hall, one pair of cloudy blue orbs was spouting fountains, her nose was glowing like Rudolf's and running like Niagara falls. Eww.

This is about where Duo and Quatre waltzed in. Or, to be more precise, Duo came waltzing in dragging behind him what look to be the cocoon of some macabre butterfly. He was also whistling quite the merry little death march. What a  wonderful thing indeed at a time such as this.

Actually, if one listened closely enough, one might be able to derive a wedding hymn integrated with the dirge as well. So, in the end, his little tune was like some twisted little marriage dirge -- one gets the distinct feeling that neither the bride nor the groom are 'happy' with their 'blissful' future 'happily ever after' and are currently thinking bad, fatal thoughts of one another. Probably one of those arranged marriages we all dread.

God, what moron though up that? Sadistic bastard, getting a twisted little kick out of sticking two people who hardly knew one another together for life. Jerks.

Anyways.

Princess Cry Hard, started to realize just what was going on over yonder and port a cork in it.

She couldn't have them trying to kill each other, one was very dear to her and the other held the only like to her mother. All others had been destroyed by Mamoru, lost in the move or left behind. She didn't even have a grave to visit and leave flowers on.

There was hardly any sense of closure for her. Sometimes she felt as though she was the only one who remembered her mother. Relena seemed too daft to really miss their mother and Darien never really cared. It was her belief that he was far too interested in trailing skirts then anything else.

How horrible. He wasn't deep enough to drown a baby in; he was that shallow.

She was so ashamed of being related to such twits. Life was cruel.

Back to the subject at hand.

Her gaze zeroed in on a suspicious looking Duo hauling a … sack? No, the sack was struggling. As far as she knew, sacks couldn't do that. She got to her feet, and was ignored by the males on the other side of the hall way in their 'beating of chest and declaration of testosterone superiority' match to find out who was in the sack and save them. Had she had been a betting woman she might have said that it was Quatre.

Duo didn't notice her till she had plucked him from the air and pried the still struggling sack from his surprised grip. She sniffled a little and undid the know holding the sack together and out dropped a dazed Quatre.

"Duo, you evil little fairy." She muttered pinning him with a glare that could melt through metal. Duo certainly didn't melt but one got the impression that he'd have like to have melted through the floor at that moment.

" Didn't your mother ever teach that tying your friends in sacks was very bad? They need to have air holes, at least."

So, her attempt to cheer herself up with a joke was a flop. But, at least Duo looked as though he had stopped expecting the apocalypse and had started to worry for his life.

With a fairy in each hand, Serena rounded on the two male ego's that were currently trying to suffocate each other and only succeeding in sending out choking second hand smoke.

Men.

Jesus. And here we go with the whole sexist opinionated Serena view again. I thought she was learning things during this ordeal.

As she opened her mouth to tell them to stop, she paused, thought better of it and closed her mouth to watch them.

It may have been entertaining if the two didn't look as though they were going to rip each other's spinal cords out via their belly buttons and start flying each other with them (interesting mental picture there).

She also supposed that any other woman would have been flattered that two men were fighting over her and all that junk. However, she wasn't 'any other woman' and was very glad of that thank you very much.

If there were any words to describe how he felt at that precise moment it would have been 'Heaven', heaven and a lollipop. How else would one feel when one was so near to their love interest, and to be touching them? He was so close to her he could feel the gentle pulse of her blood.

The image of her in that towel had been burned into his mind, as well as several images of her under those soap bubbles a serene smile on her lips. What else on earth could have been more beautiful? He was having a hard time keeping his face from burning red. And it wasn't helping that Duo was watching him like a vulture ready to pounce on him, what with that wicked little smirk he had affixed to his smug little face.

Quatre had the unsettling yet content feeling that he was sitting between heaven and hell.

Oh, this couldn't have been better, Duo thought gleefully. Putting his fingers to his lips, he let out a long shrieking whistle, which did quite well in grabbing everyone's attention.

Trowa leapt back and sheathed his claws, but nonetheless kept a close eye on the intruder. What the hell was going on? He turned to assess Serena's condition and found her to be a little soggy and shaken but still keeping up her strong front. Also, he noted that she hadn't started to rock or go silent and catatonic, as she had usually done before.

Strange, he mused.

Duo, looking quite smug, stood up as best he could on Serena's palm and cleared his throat. " I believe, that Sere has no wish to see blood and gore at this moment gentlemen. As it is her bed time. Now," At this he rubbed his hands together with gleeful delight, "Who wants to 'tuck her in?'" His eyebrows waggled with the not too clean suggestion.

Five seconds later, Duo's rear was stuck in the wall next to a rather expressive mural of a Greek Goddess, known as Athena. Hmmph, he grunted to himself, Serena must be related to the woman.

Ahh, very interesting theory. Lets review shall we? Clever, and just a tad wise? Check. War like and independent? Oh yeah. Stubborn? Quite. I think Duo has something here. Serena could very well have the blood of Athena coursing through her veins. This, of course, has very little to do with the story yet, so will get on with it.

As for Serena, she was shooting looks of torture and mangled death at the braided fairy, though not just a little bit embarrassed. What gave him the right to dare think of such a thing?

"Pervert."

Quatre hid a smile behind his hand as he pretended to cough. Funny. Duo go splat. Heheh.

Righty, then Quatre, you're getting a little psychotic there. Freak. Just kidding, I love you. Not that you know that. Hell, no one can hear me back here! HULLLLOOOOO!!!! See? No one hears me. ::Whimper:: I'm so ignored and alone. Some one hold me….

…Since the little voice in all their heads was being ignored at the moment…. Duo was doing his best to peel himself out of the wall with a crow bar, and was hardly succeeding. As for the other blonde fairy, well, he was hard pressed to keep from laughing.

Serena was busy wiping the tear stains from her face as best she could and trying her damndest to keep Trowa from noticing her weakness. Again. How pathetic; how many times had she broken down in front of him? Well, actually, none really, but once and then she had fled. In a towel. The next times she hadn't really been crying just hysterical.

Trowa watched everything with his senses and his magic, keeping tabs on the intruder (while thinking that they would finish what he had started later, when there were no whitnesses), and listening to Duo's grumbling, smelling Quatre's amusement, as well as seeing Serena's tear streaked face. He made a mental note to make like a teddy bear and cuddle up to her later.

All was quiet.

Finally, Duo stomped on Silence's head and knocked her out.

Dou fairly flew from the wall with a strange sucking sound then a 'POP', and landed face first in the carpet. There was a muffled curse then he pulled himself up and shook his head, causing his braid to lash at the lair like a cat o' nine tails.

Rubbing his nose, he looked up at the others.

"So what now?"

Now that is what I like to call a VEQI; otherwise known as a Very Excellent Question Indeed. Quite. 

End Chapter

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Wow. I sure wrote this fast. Not bad. Not good, but none too shabby. Ahhhhh, I hate being sick. It's all the school's fault, damn them. May they burn and rot in Heck for this. Poor me.

Send me lots of Vitamin C. That way I'll get better fast and won't have to deal with sneezing up arteries and organs anymore. And no body's commented on my idea for a story. Something Like Human. (God, I love Fuel) It's at my Bio. Go see. And tell me what you think and any opinions you may have. It will really help me when I write it out fully. Right now, It's in it's guideline stage.

Joke Of The Chapter:

A priest took a sabbatical to a fishing lodge. On the last day of his trip he hooked a monster fish and proceeded to reel it in. The guide, holding a net, got overly excited and yelled, "Look at the size of that Son of a Bitch!" The Priest scolded, "Son, I"m a priest. Your language is uncalled  for!" "No, Father", said the guide thinking fast, "that's what kind of fish it is. A Son of a Bitch fish!" "Really?", said the priest. "Well help me land this Son of a Bitch!"
           Once in the boat, they marveled at the monster. The guide exclaimed, "Father, that is the biggest Son of a Bitch I've
 ever seen!" "Yes, it is a big Son of a Bitch." said the priest, "what should I do with it?" The guide replied, "Why eat it of course. You've never tasted anything as good as that Son of a Bitch!" 

 Elated, the priest headed home to the church. While unloading his  gear, and his prize catch, Sister Mary inquired about his trip. "Take a look at this big Son of a Bitch I caught!" said the proud Padre. Sister Mary gasped and clutched her rosary, "Father!"

The priest explained, "It's ok Sister. That's what kind of fish it is. A Son of a Bitch fish!" Relieved, Sister Mary said, "Oh, well then what are you going to do with that big Son of a Bitch?"

"Why, eat it of course." he replied. "The guide said nothing compares
 to the taste of a Son of a Bitch."

The Sister informed the priest that the Pope was scheduled to visit ina few days and that they should fix the Son of a Bitch for dinner. "I'll even clean the Son of a Bitch", she said. As she was cleaning the huge fish, the ! Friar walked in and said, "What are you doing Sister?"

 "Father wants me to clean this big Son of a Bitch for the Pope's dinner," she said.

 "Sister! I'll clean it if you're so upset! Please watch your language!" scolded the Friar.

 Sister Mary said, "No, no, no. It's called a Son of a Bitch fish. Really."

 The Friar replied, "Oh, well in that case I'll fix up a great meal and that Son of a Bitch can be the main course! Let me know when you've finished cleaning that Son of a Bitch."

 On the night of the Pope's visit, everything was perfect. The Friar  had prepared an excellent meal, there was wine, and the fish was excellent.

The Pope said, "This is great fish, where did you get it?"

 "I caught the Son of a Bitch!" proclaimed the proud priest." The Pope's eyes opened wide, but he said nothing.

 "And I cleaned the Son of a Bitch!" exclaimed the sister. The Pope sat silent in disbelief.

And the friar added, "And I prepared the Son of a Bitch, using a special recipe!"

 As the Pope looked at each of them a big smile slowly crept across his face. Leaning back in his chair, he put his feet up on the table, lit a big cigar and said…
 "You fuckers are alright!!"

Due to the extent of the above joke there will be only this as my advice;  Laugh and the world Laughs with you; cry and the world is suddenly sheepish and remembers it had other plans. Which is why I suggest that you laugh like a maniac while you cry. You'll either scare the hell out of the world or confuse it badly. Not sure if these are good things or not, but they are quite funny.