The Dragon's Sword
By Mieren
Quatre stood in one of the horridly long lines at the public airport. Winner Enterprises was holding a meeting that he, as the only male heir to the family, had to attend. His personal aircraft was busy carting around parts for the Gundams, making it unavailable. He glanced at his watch again, frowning darkly. Almost an hour had passed and he had only moved three feet forward in a line that wrapped around the terminal twice.
The line was bad enough, but he could have endured it if not for the pesky reporters trying to pry information out of him. He didn't even know what they wanted, refusing to listen to the screeching vultures. If not for one single thing, he would have already have ripped his hair out, woven it into a noose and hung the gibbering imbeciles. That one thing was the person standing beside him, dressed as one of his servants.
Trowa plucked nervously at the formal clothes he was in, casting a sympathetic glance at the smaller blond. He had only agreed to go on grounds that Quatre might need a bodyguard during the meeting. They suspected that a few members of Oz knew about his occupation as a pilot, and as such, they didn't want to take any risks.
After another hour of ignoring the spastic weenies with cameras, they managed to check in their luggage and claim the tickets for the flight. Desperate to be away from the mindless lemmings still begging for information, and royally pissing off security, they jogged quickly towards the gate their flight left from, each of them carrying a small business briefcase with them.
Luckily, the line going through the metal detector moved much faster. Quickly placing the two briefcases on the conveyer belt, they scurried through the small doorway, glad to be rid of the swarm of leeches. Or so they thought.
Both briefcases were jerked off of the belt immediately after being x-rayed. Quatre gaped as he was told by a wary guard to open the cases. Confused as to what was going on, he and Trowa complied. The guards yanked something out of the blonde's briefcase, staring hard at the object wrapped in tinfoil. Cautiously, one of the men unwrapped it. He blinked, holding the item gingerly in two fingers well away from himself. A vibrator. A large one. A second guard pulled a pair of silk-lined handcuffs out of Trowa's briefcase.
Quatre was helpless to do anything but turn redder with each passing second as the reporters chattered rapidly, snapping pictures like there was no tomorrow. Even Trowa was blushing, something that Quatre had never seen. Frosty emerald eyes narrowed furiously as the banged boy growled a single word.
"Duo."
* * *
Duo was puttering around Quatre's mansion, wondering absently how there could be absolutely nothing to do.
Four hundred twenty seven channels on the television and nothing worth watching. Quatre and Trowa were on some sort of business trip, scheduled to return later that day. Wufei was polishing his sword, a strange half-smirk on his face. Duo shuddered when his mind tried to provide a reason for the expression. Twitching, he moved on. Heero was camped out in his room, doing whatever it was he did on his laptop. Duo suspected that he was looking at porn online, but he couldn't prove it. Oh, he was fairly sure, and had been ever since he changed the stoic pilot's homepage to some porn website and the other boy had never said a word about it.
He sighed loudly, openly pouting. Three full kitchens, and there was nothing to eat either. Frowning, he wandered off to poke through his manga yet again. He would have given anything for something interesting to happen.
* * *
Wufei sat polishing his sword calmly, still smiling to himself. His room was the epitome of silence and serenity. It was so quiet that he was clearly able to hear a door open on the far end of the mansion, admitting two people who were probably very angry. A few seconds later, an enraged howl echoed through the previously peaceful mansion.
"DUO!!!"
Wufei smirked.
Mere moments later, two sets of feet thundered down the hall. Unable to resist, the Chinese pilot glanced out the door into the hall, watching bemusedly as Duo tore past at full speed, Quatre right on his heels. The little blond was wielding a cast iron skillet in one hand and an oversized vibrator in the other, cursing solid in Arabic as he ran. A heartfelt plea could be heard from the retreating figure.
"I DIDN'T DO IT!"
There was a loud thump as Duo tripped and landed flat on his face. From his vantage point, Wufei could clearly see that Trowa was the one who was responsible for the nosedive. Clearly ticked, the two recently returned pilots dragged Duo off to deal with him, ignoring his cries of innocence and pleas for help.
Wufei chuckled, a decidedly evil sound.
"That'll teach you to touch my sword, Maxwell."
* * *
The next morning, breakfast proved to be very interesting. Wufei just sat back and enjoyed the show. Heero stared blankly, his unblinking expression firmly in place, preventing anyone from knowing what he was thinking.
Trowa and Quatre looked very pleased with themselves. Duo came in to breakfast a few minutes late, glaring death at their smug expressions. He was strangely silent as he sat at the table, lowering himself gingerly into the seat, wincing when his weight touched the hardwood chair. The braided pilot scowled darkly, daring anyone to say anything.
Wufei was so amused watching the three pilots snarling at each other that he didn't notice Heero staring at him. The fact registered in his mind when the Japanese pilot spoke out in his nasal monotonous voice.
"What were you doing with the tinfoil, Chang?"
Wufei went rigid, all eyes on his stiff form. Time stood still for what seemed like an eternity, broken abruptly when he lunged from his seat and sprinted from the room, Duo only inches behind him.
Quatre watched them leave, having the decency to look guilty. Trowa didn't look guilty. He looked absolutely mortified.
"Poor Duo," the blond lamented, wringing his hands. "He really didn't do it."
"He's going to kill us," Trowa managed in a strangled voice.
Heero remained silent, hiding his smirk in a cup of coffee. His normally expressionless eyes sparkled with mirth at the knowledge that he was the only person in the mansion not currently on the receiving end of Duo's wrath.
End.
Seriously. I mean it this time. No kidding… You don't believe me, do you? Probably with good cause, since in every part so far I've claimed that I wasn't going to continue this. Um… at the very least, expect a delay. Finals and all. That and I'm currently out of ideas as to what do to the other pilots.
Review!!!
