Enter the Dragon

By Mieren

Duo was pouting.  It was bad enough that Heero had gotten the better of him, but he simply couldn't stand for the fact that Wufei had as well.  The Chinese pilot had known what was going on and had played along just long enough for Duo to become truly worried.

He briefly considered doing something to Heero as well, but changed his mind.  He willingly admitted that he had deserved what he had gotten from the stoic Japanese pilot.  Growling low in his throat, he began plotting against a certain raven-haired teen.

Huffing indignantly, he began rooting through his Wufei-will-be-out-for-blood-if-he-even-thought-about-it stash.  He quickly moved past the Playboys and Playgirls.  As much fun as it was to watch the Chinese pilot nosebleed, he deserved much worse this time.  For the same reason, he set aside the lacy panties and the Kama Sutra.  The stink bombs were too timid.  He briefly considered the neon green hair dye, but decided against that too.  The paint would have been a nice thing to play with, but he had painted Shenlong pink a month ago.  He needed something new.  He considered sending love letters in Wufei's name to the Maguanacs, but decided he could do better.

An unholy grin settled across his face.  Whipping out a notepad, he began scribbling some rough notes.  Wufei would pay.  Oh yes, would he pay.

*     *     *

Treize entered his private suite, exhausted from a day of listening to officers argue about strategies on various methods to rid themselves of the Gundam pilots.  He tossed his jacket over the back of an ornate chair near his computer.  Something stood out against the keyboard.  Something that hadn't been there when he had left earlier in the day.

Nestled between the keys was a plain white envelope.  No writing was visible on the surface.  He stared at it curiously, wondering if it was possibly a letter bomb.  Deciding against it, he plucked the envelope off of the keyboard and pulled out a letter written in flowing cursive, the delicate paper smelling lightly of incense.  He frowned slightly at the message.

I cannot wait to meet with you again.  I look forward our next encounter.

Treize read and reread the two simple sentences several times, a frown pulling at the edges of his mouth.  There was no signature attached.  Sighing, he tossed the letter into a random drawer at the desk, deciding that he would think about it later.  For now, all he wanted was to take a shower and get some sleep.

*     *     *

The next day, Treize received another envelope.  This time, it was lying on his bed.  Now immensely curious, he snagged the letter and quickly scanned the single line, cursing when there was still no signature forthcoming.

I grow impatient with the delay, but I shall see you soon.

Grumbling, he placed the letter beside the first, confused by both the cryptic messages and the unique smell of incense on both of the short notes.

*     *     *

For eight days now, Treize had gotten a letter.  The most recent one, while longer than the others, had him grinding his teeth.

I cannot delay this any longer.  I must meet you again before I lose my mind.  Meet me alone in the gardens tomorrow at dusk.

Growling, Treize flopped back in the elaborately carved chair by his desk.  Whoever was sending the letters knew him, but he didn't recognize the handwriting.  Nor did he recognize the expensive and exotic incense that tinged the letters.  After much debate, he had decided that they were love letters, but was unable to decipher who could possibly be sending them.  He was still stumped as to who was able to get into his room every single day, the security cameras expertly dismantled every time.

Deciding that he had had enough, he began making a few calls.  Tomorrow, he would learn who the mystery writer was and he intended to be ready.

*     *     *

Wufei stomped into his room at the safehouse, almost purple in his rage.  It was bad enough that he had to work alongside Maxwell and listen to his inane chatter, but he could not tolerate the braided idiot any longer.  The moron had somehow managed to release a thousand white mice into Nataku's cockpit.  The smell of rodent feces still clung to his previously immaculate clothes and formerly spotless Gundam.  Injustice!

He had been ranting to himself for almost an hour before he noticed an envelope tied to his family sword with a simple red ribbon.  Outraged that someone had dared to touch his sword, he ripped the letter free and scanned it with seething obsidian eyes.  His fury was momentarily quelled by the scent of roses wafting from the paper and the ornate calligraphy covering the scented paper.

Wufei,

Meet me tomorrow at dusk to conclude our duel.  I will be awaiting your arrival in the gardens at the Tokyo base.

Khushrenada.

Wufei's eyes narrowed at the challenge.  He was so caught up in his notion of honorably finishing the duel and then murdering Maxwell for his prank that he didn't stop to consider how the note had been delivered to the safehouse.

*     *     *

Treize leaned back comfortably on the elegant wooden bench, elaborately carved with roses, he had ordered brought to the gardens.  Beside him was a small tray created by caterers and a cooler holding a bottle of expensive wine and two crystal goblets.  Slightly nervous, and feeling like a lovesick teenager for doing so, he fiddled with his clothes, straightening the fine garb nervously.  He glanced around, frowning slightly.  It was dusk, but there was no sign of the person he was supposed to meet.

"I am here to honorably meet your challenge," a calm, collected voice announced.  "Draw your sword and face me like a man."

Shocked, Treize glanced up to meet the furious gaze of an incensed Chinese warrior.  Arching his elegant eyebrows, he stood fluently and offered a slight bow in silent greeting.

"I apologize, young dragon, but I do not have my sword with me this evening.  I was not anticipating your presence," he said smoothly.

"Then what is the meaning of this?" Wufei snapped, brandishing a letter under Treize's nose.  Bemused by the irate youth, Treize took the letter and skimmed it.

"I must apologize once again, young dragon.  This is certainly my style of writing, but I do not recall composing such a note."

Wufei blinked, then scowled.  "Who else would have written it?" he demanded.

"I do not know, young dragon," Treize answered, smiling slightly.  "Perchance, would you know who wrote these?"  He silently offered a small stack of letters to the irritated teen.

Snatching the stack of letters, Wufei scanned the content impatiently.  A scowl settled on his angular features.

"This is my handwriting, but I did not write this," he snapped.  His eyes narrowed.  "So we were set up.  Now what?"

Treize just smiled.

*     *     *

Duo was visibly squirming in his seat as he waited for Wufei's return.  His fidgeting was part anticipation and part worry.  Though he was eager to see the Chinese pilot's irritation, he was distinctly worried that the other pilot was so late to return.  He was starting to wonder if something had happened to his friend.  It was almost dawn and the raven-haired boy still hadn't returned.

Before he had a chance to feel too guilty, the door to the safehouse opened, admitting a staggering, and slightly hungover, Wufei.  The Chinese pilot was clearly in some sort of stupor.  His onyx hair was falling everywhere, the band normally tying the dark locks back strangely missing.  His normally immaculate clothes were disheveled, his shirt inside out.  Dark glazed eyes stared straight ahead, completely unfocused.  What worried Duo most were the vivid bruises around his comrade's throat.  His brow furrowed slightly.  Where those hickies?

"Um… Wufei?" Duo asked tentatively.

"Yes?" Wufei asked sleepily, pausing in his weary trudge towards his room.

"How did your duel go?" he asked, trying not to sound too guilty.

"Duel?  Oh, yes, the duel.  Treize came out on top," he murmured, continuing his unsteady path towards his own room.

Duo's jaw dropped.  A full-body twitch enveloped him.  He zombied his way back to his room, swearing that he would never pull a prank on Wufei and Treize again.  He couldn't help it.  He shuddered again.

"Nasty… old person," he moaned.  Somehow he knew that he would be mentally scarred for life.  Still twitching, he headed for his room to go to bed, even though he knew he wouldn't be sleeping.

End.  Seriously this time.

I am SO sorry.  It was 3am and I got bored.  It just kind of happened.  Please don't hate me!  R&R!!!

Fic challenge!  For anyone who read this and loves yaoi.  I want you to write the lemon between Wufei and Treize after their little meeting in the gardens.  Send it to me via email.  If you're already posting on ff.net, tell me so I can tell my faithful followers where to go to see the yumminess.  If not, I'll post it here and give you full credit.  Come on, someone take me up on this!!!  ^__^