"Well," Darren drawled, trying to sound indifferent and failing miserably.  He gave up immediately and grinned widely.  "Are we going to start with this or what?"

"We're starting, we're starting," Donovan laughed, waving his hands dismissively at the impatient look it earned him.  "We just have to do this right if we want to drive everyone stark raving mad."

"Which means that Duo, Dustin and Deut have to be the ones teasing Heero," Dante said, his normally aloof attitude vaporizing in the Maxwell spirit as they planned their prank on the unsuspecting pilots.  "We can't risk anyone slower.  They might be caught."

"Bite me," Derrick snapped.

"Anytime, anywhere," Darren leered.  Deut threw a pillow at him.

"Don't start that now," she warned.  "We have people to torture."

"Fine, fine.  Don't get your panties in a wad."

"Would you pay attention?" Dante huffed.  Derrick turned to listen.  However, Darren only snorted and gave him the finger.  As always, he was ignored.

"We already have the blueprints of Quatre's mansion in Tokyo," David said, spreading the sheets of information across the table.  "I know everyone has already memorized every hall, room and vent.  We'll have to be careful not to run into each other since we'll have four separate pilots on our tails."

"We just have to get them to chase us," Daniel said, frowning.  "Heero and Wufei are easy to trick into trying to ring our necks.  Trowa is going to take a bit of work, but I think it can be done if we do the same thing to him as Heero.  But how are we going to get Quatre in on it?"

The ten braided menaces glanced around at each other, calculating each other's personalities.  It was several minutes before anyone spoke.

"Darren would have been a good choice, but he's busy with Wufei," Dante sighed.  "Pity.  No one can drive the poor little blond insane like he can."

"Thank you."

"I'm not sure if that was a complement, squid for brains," Deut said flatly.  Darren pretended like he hadn't heard her.

"I guess I can do it," Derrick said.  "I'm not as… abrasive, as Darren, but I can get under his skin eventually."

"Eventually won't work.  We're on a time limit, here.  We can only keep this up for so long," Dante reminded him.

"I can do it!  I'll have an easier time than those three," he said, waving at Duo, Dustin and Deut.  "I don't have to keep out of Heero's reach, after all."

"True," Dante admitted.  "They are the runners.  David and Daniel will have to get out of the way when the time comes."  He paused, frowning.  "Are you two sure you can keep away from Trowa?"

"We're not as fast as you, but we'll be fine," Donovan assured him.  "Demitri can hold his own for long enough."

"You make me sound like a weakling!" Demitri protested, managing to sound slightly affronted.  His pouting was ruined by the slight glimmer of amusement in his violet eyes and the hint of a smile that kept twitching his lips.  He knew he was the slowest of the group, but was also keenly aware that speed had nothing to do with the ability to wreak havoc on unsuspecting innocents.

"I'm just not sure that we can get Trowa to chase any of us," David said slowly.  "He's not that easy to tick off."

"We'll just have to keep at it until he starts chasing us.  He'll cave eventually," Daniel assured him.  "Everyone does."

"Does everyone know what they're doing?" Dante asked.

Immediately, ten faces broke out into identical evil grins.

*     *     *

Deut slipped into Heero's private room, grinning at the silent pilot from where he was tapping away incessantly at his laptop.  Sneaking up behind him, knowing perfectly well that he knew she was there, she leaned over his shoulder and spoke directly into his ear, breathing softly into it as she did so.

"Oy, Hee-chan!  I was just headed to the kitchen to get some food.  My brothers and I are going to play a game.  Do you want to play?" she asked, smiling sweetly.  Like you really have a choice in this, she thought wryly.  The game is tag, and you're it, whether you like it or not.

"No," he said stiffly.  "I have a report to type."

"Aw, you're no fun!" Deut pouted.  Trying to look disappointed, she spun from the room, waiting until she was out of sight before grinning ear to ear.

She bounded lightly into the kitchen where Duo and Dustin were waiting.  David and Daniel were still out of sight.  The three of them gathered a few random snacks and ran back down the hall, chattering with each other as they went.  No one bothered to look at Heero as they passed his room.  They knew he was watching them.  Anyone in their right mind who heard the word 'game' associated with the Maxwells would be wary.

Still chattering about absolutely nothing important, the three wandered into Deut's room, which was conveniently right next to Heero's.  For several minutes, they were content to throw chips at each other and tell crude jokes.  Winking at them, Deut hopped to her feet.

"I need to get something from the kitchen!  I'll be right back," she said, skipping lightly from the room.

Dustin grinned widely but stayed silent.  Duo had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.  They intended to confuse Heero as much as possible.  He was under the impression that no Maxwell could remain silent for more than three seconds straight, and using that, they were going to make him second guess his knowledge of their locations.  Only a minute later, they heard Deut approaching, poking fun at David as he bounced along beside her, mimicking the average Maxwell giddiness.  The tapping on the keyboard in the next room went silent.  Heero had seen the inconsistency in numbers.

Duo calmly got up and walked into the closet to hide.  He'd get out and join the chase again after it was true pandemonium.  Deut waited as she talked easily, wondering silently if Heero was going to come in to check on what he had seen.  The clacking of keys started again, and Deut grinned.

"Hey!" David exclaimed loudly.  There was a slight wavering in the steady clicking from the next room.  Heero was listening to every word.  "Where are the pickles?"

"In the kitchen, I imagine," Deut supplied.  "Come on."

Already on her feet, she motioned for David to follow her.  Dustin laid down on the floor and rolled under the bed out of sight.  The braided pair skipped back down the hall, seeing Heero watching them out of his peripheral vision as they passed.  They continued to the kitchen as though they hadn't noticed.  Daniel was waiting for them.

"Is he watching?" he asked eagerly as they arrived.

"Of course he is!" Deut reprimanded with mock indignation.

"Then lets get him!"

Exchanging conspiratory glances, the three started back to the room, still pretending like nothing was wrong as they passed Heero yet again.  This time, he was no longer pretending not to notice.  His eyes were glued to the hall and he was sitting tensely in his seat.  David and Daniel passed without suspicion, but when Deut bounced after them, the third Maxwell returning when only two had departed, they heard Heero jump to his feet and tear towards them.  Deut yanked the door shut in his face and disappeared into her room, running for the window directly behind David and Daniel.  She was just leaping out of the window when Heero broke into the room.  Undaunted, Heero sprinted to the window, set to jump out after them when a door slammed open behind him and the bed almost upturned itself.

Heero jumped, nearly loosing his footing as he tried to spin faster than he was physically capable of moving.  He barely caught the tail end of two braids as they disappeared out the door, running in opposite directions down the long hall of the mansion.  Cursing loudly, he charged after the nearest figure he had seen, unknowingly darting after Dustin, swearing silently that he was going to ring all of their necks.

He hadn't gone three steps into the hall when a foot from some empty room popped out directly into his path, sending him sprawling.  Out of the room charged a black-clad form, braid trailing behind him as he ran for his life.  Heero was on his feet immediately, lunging for the end of the flapping braid.  He missed by several inches and ended up ducking into a neat roll to avoid landing on his face a second time.  Unwilling to admit defeat, he lurched to his feet again and gave chase, yelling as he went.

"OMAE O KOROSU!!!"

*     *     *

Wufei stepped out of the private shower in his room, frowning when he heard several thumps and various swearwords echoing from various regions of the house.  Glowering at the Maxwell-induced noise, he continued to scrub his hair with a towel as he glanced around the room for his shirt.  He frowned when it wasn't laid out on the back of his chair where he could have sworn he had left it.  His pants were there, but his shirt was not.  Instead, his dark blue tank top was lying innocently on the bedspread.  Frowning slightly, he yanked on his loose white pants before going towards the bed, wary of some stupid prank that one of the Maxwells was sure to have pulled while his clothes were out of his direct sight.

Not seeing any mousetraps on the floor by the bed, stink bombs or airborne dye attached to trip strings, or even the hint of a motion detector, he edged towards the bed warily, glancing around as he inched forward.  Still seeing nothing, he reached hesitantly for his shirt.  The moment he leaned forward, it struck.

A large black-clad cannonball slammed into him from behind, carrying him to the bed face first.  Before he could even begin to defend himself, he was flipped over to his back and lips were pressed to his own.  A tongue sought entrance to his mouth and he was prepared to bite it when his legs were pulled up to rest on either side of his attacker's waist.  Hands were all over him for several seconds while he tried to fight back his assailant.  As suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Wufei looked up in shock as the black-clad figure leapt back out of harms way, grinning shamelessly at him.  The offender leaned casually against the door, fiddling with his long chestnut braid.

"Was it good for you?" Darren leered, blowing him a kiss.  Wufei exploded.

"KISAMA!!!  MAXWELL!!!"

Darren needed no prompting to run for his life.  He was beginning to wonder if it had been such a good idea to piss off the Chinese pilot with no one to switch the chase with.  He was bound to get tired eventually, something that the enraged raven-haired boy was not likely to do anytime in the near future.  Nevertheless, he was out the door and running for his life before Wufei could take a single step towards him.  Thankfully, he only had to keep it up for a little while.  The game wouldn't last long.

*     *     *

Derrick stood outside of the underground hanger, casually flying a kite, knowing that Quatre was working on Sandrock.  It was nearing lunch and he knew that the innocent little blond would emerge soon to get something to eat.  Only moments ago, he knew that the others had set their parts of the plan into action.  His part was considerably the most difficult to plan, if not to carry out.  He had had to think of a way to infuriate the Arabian pilot, which was almost impossible since the small pilot was so easygoing.  However, he had found a way.

Sure enough, he hadn't been there for more than a few minutes with his high-flying kite when the seemingly harmless blond emerged.  Seeing him, the smaller pilot scurried over to greet him.

"Hello, um… Darren?"

"Nope," Derrick responded, still tugging at his kite gently to get it to new heights.

"Sorry," Quatre answered contritely.  He grinned bashfully and tried to atone for his mistake.  "I was going to eat lunch.  Do you want to join me?"

"Sorry, Q-man, but I'm kinda busy flying this thing," he said.  "Isn't it a beauty?"

Polite as always, Quatre glanced up at the high-flying kite.  He was about to agree with the braided pilot when something clicked in his mind and he froze.  Not wanting to believe that even a Maxwell would stoop to something so low, he allowed his gaze to trail up the enormous 'kite string' to the gargantuan 'kite' flying high in the clear blue sky.  His jaw dropped.

"That… that's my…" he stammered, starting to see red.  All of his boxers had been tied together to form the string, the pink bits of cloth standing out fantastically against the cerulean sky.  At the top of the line was a bed sheet he had had since he was a child, small Winnie the Pooh figures covering the pink sheet.

"I know," Derrick said smoothly, pretending not to notice the blonde's twitching.  "It's amazing.  The line even has it's own racing stripes!"

He sensed the lunge before he saw it and gracefully jumped to the side, dropping the string of boxers in his hands.  Quatre had already recovered from the missed leap and was positioned for another when Derrick ran for the house, grinning to himself.  This was certainly going to be amusing when all hell broke loose.

*     *     *

Trowa was working silently on his computer, studying various Oz activities, when he heard approaching footsteps.  Disinterestedly, he glanced up to see one of the Maxwells peeking into his room, debating whether or not to enter.  After a moment, he left without saying a word.  Shrugging, Trowa resumed reading.  He would have continued doing so, but three minutes later, it happened again, only that time, there were two of them.  They left quickly before he could say anything.

Hesitantly, Trowa turned back to his computer, almost fearing what the braided pilots were up to.  They were never silent unless they were doing something.  Sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he heard a distinctive death threat echo through the mansion.

"OMAE O KOROSU!!!"

Sighing, Trowa decided to ignore it.  He had no intention of getting between Heero and whomever he was chasing.  Not two minutes after that, he heard a second shout for Maxwell blood, this time coming from the other end of the mansion, courtesy of a certain incensed Chinese pilot.

"KISAMA!!!  MAXWELL!!!"

Trowa shook his head, knowing without checking that Darren had done something again to embarrass the raven-haired boy.  It happened at least three times a day, every day, and usually once during the night as well.  It was turning into an unbreakable routine.  However, the third scream shocked him.

"DUO!  Get back here!"

Trowa's visible eye widened to its fullest extent.  Quatre was screaming for blood.  The innocent, harmless, easygoing blond was in a murderous rage.  He was suddenly frightened of what they had done.  Unbidden, he peeked into the hall.  Seeing nothing, he crept through the mansion until he saw a long chestnut braid disappear into an empty room.  When he looked in, however, the owner of said braid was long gone.

Thundering footsteps alerted him to jump out of the way before he was plowed over by Darren and Wufei, the Chinese pilot slowly closing in on his target.  He almost had the braid in his hand when a shadow detached itself from the wall and pushed him directly into Trowa.  Curses surrounded the tangled limbs as the two pulled apart, giving Donovan a head start before Trowa could even think about chasing him.  Unfortunately, the green-eyed pilot didn't take the bait, opting to watch Wufei tear after Darren again.

When the interfering Maxwell disappeared, Trowa wandered down the hall after Wufei, watching the two crisscross the mansion and grounds near the house.  At one point, Heero tore by chasing a braided menace of his own, Dustin easily outpacing him.  When the two passed, Heero suddenly abandoned the chase and charged in a different direction, flushing another Maxwell out of the shadows in hopes of catching the unsuspecting braided idiot.  Unfortunately for the Japanese pilot, Dante was faster than him too.

Swear words could be heard echoing in the air as Dante led Heero on a large intricate loop of the house, trying to shake him.  Heero was supposed to be chasing Duo or Deut once he gave up on Dustin.  Dante had been waiting to ambush Trowa.  Seeing the difficulty, Deut jumped out of her hiding place and ran three quick loops around the brunette pilot.  In her rounds, she yanked his shirt over his head, dropped his pants, and pushed the unsuspecting pilot into the wall.

Trowa straightened his clothes and stared.  He would have expected that kind of behavior inflicted on Wufei or Heero, not him.  As a general rule, the Maxwells didn't bother either Quatre or himself.  He was about to retreat to his room to hide when something clicked in his mind.

Wufei had been chasing Darren, cursing at the top of his lungs.  One.  Heero had been chasing one of the Maxwells.  Two.  The Japanese pilot had switched to go after a different braided madman in the shadows.  Three.  Now he had just been looped by what had appeared to be Deut.  Four.  He knew that Quatre was chasing someone.  Five.  In something of a daze, he approached the balcony to watch the three ongoing chases.  It was possible that Quatre had lost track of who he was chasing and Heero had gone after that Maxwell, abandoning his pursuit of Deut and leaving her free to circle him.  Desperately wanting to believe the unlikely possibility, he watched the chaos below him.

Two black-clad, braided nuisances ran towards each other, holding out their left arms as they drew nearer.  Locking elbows, they spun in circles rapidly before breaking formation and running in new directions.  Just as they separated, Quatre and Wufei approached from opposite directions and stared, both having lost track of which one they were after.  They each chose a direction and ran after their target again, neither knowing if they were after the correct menace.

Trowa just shook his head and decided that it was probably a better idea to hide until the madness had ended.  He was turning to leave when he heard an outraged squawk and saw a braided figure carrying Quatre over his shoulders as he ran out the back door cackling.

"Duck pond!" he roared, making it sound like a war cry.

A loud splash could be heard from inside and Trowa winced.  He was torn between helping round up the menaces and running for his life.  The decision was taken from him when he was pushed headfirst over the rail on the balcony into the large guest room below.  For once, his superb reflexes failed him and he was certain that he was going to break his neck.  A shadow jumped out and caught him just before he landed and he grunted at the sudden halt in his descent.  He wasn't surprised when he was thrown over a broad shoulder and hauled outside to join Quatre in the pond.  For some reason, he couldn't even bring himself to be surprised when Wufei joined them in the water a few seconds later.

The three pilots swam a bit awkwardly back to the edge of the pond when Heero arrived, thrashing in the arms of two Maxwells, to be tossed over their heads into the depths of the water.  He surfaced using language that caused even the escaping Maxwells to pause and gape.  The four waterlogged pilots glared after the two remaining braided pilots to find themselves face to cheek with two bared, wiggling posteriors.

"Heero," Trowa called.  Heero scowled at him.  "I've seen five of them.  What about you?"

"Five," he confirmed.

"Tell me you're joking!" Wufei yelped, looking very pale.

"They're getting away," Trowa said, interrupting the incipient rant.  He nodded towards the two Maxwells disappearing into the house.

The four pilots scrambled out of the water and ran after the retreating forms.  Quatre, for once, didn't protest when they tracked water and mud into his house.  They were just in time to see the tip of a braid vanish into the adjoining living room.  No one hesitated before going after the only visible Maxwell.  As one, the four sprinted into the next room and, as one, the four came skidding to a horrified stop.

Standing proudly, side by side, were ten identical figures dressed in black, ten identical evil grins on their faces.  For a moment, the four pilots could only stare, shock evident on all of their faces.  It was when Wufei scrambled to retreat that the battle cry sounded from somewhere within the malicious, braided ranks.

"GET 'EM!"

The four terrified pilots tried to scatter, but their tactic proved unsuccessful, as they were badly outnumbered.

To Be Continued…

I got another section posted!  I know I took forever, but I have no more spare time.  Gomen!  The next section will continue with what happens to the four hapless pilots in the clutches of the evil Maxwells.  I almost feel guilty about what I'm planning to do to them.  R&R!