A/N: Am I an update bandit or WHAT! Prodigy yesterday, Chemical Romance today…I'm so proud of myself! (beams)
The school IS "St. Francis Academy". I get little things in stories mixed up sometimes; sorry 'bout that.
Joe Sullivan is quite possibly my favorite GW-OC I've ever written, simply because I wish I had his job. And I fully admit to having NO idea how to spell Tallgese, and being too lazy to check. And Quatre is utterly shameless- be forewarned.
Not proofread/ rough draft. Please point out errors and all that; I'll fix 'em soon.
Chemical Romance
Chapter 5
If You Ever Felt Anxious
x---x
Joe Sullivan was a professional slacker, and had been proud of that profession since AC 186. As a fixture in West Rieslingville, New York, he was the idol of practically every pre-teen boy (and quite a few girls, come to think of it), from his unwashed blonde hair to his holey sock-covered feet. Not to mention he owned quite possibly the only ditcher-friendly establishment in the county.
"Slacker's Paradise", it was called. An arcade of mythic proportions. Everything from Pong to Tekken 49.5 could be found within its sacrosanct concrete walls, and you couldn't even get in said sacrosanct concrete walls without passing through he himself, Mr. Joe Sullivan, the world's best professional slacker.
When the Second Wave of the day's truants began to come in (around 1 in the afternoon, after most had snuck out to eat somewhere), he was surprised to see two new faces, and in St. Francis' uniforms too. Immediately he was impressed. He hadn't had a good-for-nothing from that hell-hole since 190, and even then Tony (for indeed, Tony had been his name) had only managed to come once. But for TWO St. Francis students to come? It was unheard of!
Joe Sullivan, slacker extraordinaire, immediately came to the conclusion that these boys weren't just good slackers. They were EXCELLENT, possibly even on their way to his own level of slackerdom.
So, naturally, he let them have three free hours in the arcade, grinned, and even INTRODUCED HIMSELF to them (a privilege only a rare few ever received, as Joe Sullivan, God of Slackers, Patron Deity of Loafing, only deigned to speak to those he considered worth the effort of getting off his lazy ass and doing it).
Of course, Duo and Heero didn't particularly notice any of this. They just figured the grungy freak at the entrance wanted to hook them on his establishment, but they weren't about to complain about three free hours of non-prep school fun.
But, when they spotted eight identical pod-shaped things in the corner of "Slacker's Paradise", they asked the grungy freak (what did he say his name was? Smith? Sampson?), who grinned at them.
"Those, my children, are the MS simulators."
Heero smirked at that bit of information.
"It's relatively new to the establishment- I got 'em when the war started, but didn't install them 'till this whole 'temporary peace' thing got started," he explained further. "Before, they were hooked up to OZ computers and recorded the best of the best for future recruitment." He grinned. "I may be a shameless slacker, but I take care of my kiddies."
"Those free too?" Heero asked, and Joe nodded, still grinning.
"For you two? EVERYTHING'S free…for three hours."
Heero nodded, and before Duo could say another word the other boy had latched onto his wrist and was dragging him over to the nearest pseudo-cockpit.
Duo snickered, clambering into the seat. "Think your skills are getting rusty, eh Hee-chan?"
"Don't call me Hee-chan," Heero said, head popping up in the bottom-right screen of the display, smirk almost a full-fledged smile.
In the bottom left, Joe's head popped up, grinning and waving to them. "Hey kiddies! You guys think you can figure out how to handle this sort of rig?"
"Hell yes!" Duo grinned.
"Affirmative." Heero was getting back into mission-mode, already examining what the almost comically simplistic design of the cockpits could do. Or, more correctly, what it could be made to do.
"Okay then! Who's picking the environment?"
"He is," they both responded immediately.
Joe just grinned. "Oookaaay, who's older?"
They just stared at him.
"Middle name?"
More staring.
"Uh…" Joe paused. "Height?"
"HA!" Duo said, and immediately pointed at the glaring view screen of Heero. "Two point seven centimeters! Take THAT!" His triumphant indigo eyes snapped back to Joe. "Space. Lots and lots of space."
"With wreckage," Heero added, and Duo nodded. It'd make it more interesting.
"OKAY!" Joe beamed at his two slacker protégés. "The goal's to defeat the most enemy suits. Want a time limit?"
"Put it on the hardest setting," Heero interrupted.
"Jeez, try and make it a bit more obvious why don't you," Duo muttered, but went largely ignored.
"Done! Forty minutes, Legendary difficulty! Pick your suits!"
And then Joe was gone, and the pod seemed to hum to life, door shutting as the options came up on the main screen.
Duo heard Heero snort at the same moment he guffawed.
"Those are NOT 'Scythe's stats!"
"Completely inaccurate," Heero muttered. "An Aires equal to Shenlong?"
"No kidding," Duo muttered, and grinned. "Hey, I dare you to be Tallgese."
"What?"
"Be Tallgese, I dare you!"
Heero snorted. "If you're one of these superpowered Aires, you're on."
The two grinned at each other, and the BOOOMFFFFF of the choosing sound-effect blasted air into the pods, and suddenly it was just like they were in space.
"Man, we really gotta get everyone else over here. This kicks ASS," Duo grinned.
"Hn."
"Why did I know you'd say that?"
"BEGINNNN IN," the overly dramatic deep voice said. "FIVE, FOURRR, THREEE, TWOO, ONE- GO!"
The two blasted into the pseudo-star field, the wreckage of a thousand battles stretching beyond them.
x---x
"-and then Heero was all, 'hn', and I was like, 'what, you want two out of three? It's not my fault you're spoiled by Wing and suck in anything else', and then he kicked my ass the next game, but that was just second-time luck and besides we stretched on for way past the forty minutes on the first game so we didn't get to finish the third game, because otherwise that grungy idiot- Jeff was it?- would have made us pay," Duo said rapidly, the other three staring. "So we're still tied at one-to-one, but seriously, you guys should come next time because that thing kicked ASS even if they got the stats completely wrong."
"It was surprisingly realistic, for an arcade game," Heero conceded, even though the smirk had yet to wipe of his lips from that afternoon. "It would be useful to keep ourselves in practice."
The other four nodded immediately.
And then, Wufei and Quatre just stood up, grabbed Duo, and left for Trowa and Quatre's room. Heero blinked at the door.
"Ignore them," Trowa advised, reading something that looked school-oriented. "Quatre's trying to play match-maker again."
Heero frowned, something nagging at him. "With who?" In his experience, the blonde didn't just TRY something, he did it.
"Does it matter?" Trowa's green eyes finally lifted up to him. "Just be glad you're not involved in this batch of love-letters and rumors. Wufei nearly killed Quatre at the last school for it." A soft smile lit his lips, twisting away just a bit in a moment of private nostalgia. "They both learned from that experience."
"Trowa."
The brunette looked straight at him again. "It's Duo."
"With who?"
Trowa actually rolled his eyes- a testament to his usual resolve. "Despite what you may hear, Quatre and I aren't psychically linked, just intuitive. He knows not to tell me that sort of stuff." He turned back to his book. "Your guess is just as good as any I might have."
Glaring, Heero stomped towards the door.
"Don't hurt anyone," Trowa called out, and Heero grunted some sort of answer as the door slammed behind him.
And when it had stopped quivering, Trowa smiled as he could hear Heero storming off to the rescue.
x---x
"WHAT!" Duo shrieked.
"It's true," Quatre shrugged, grinning.
Duo slapped a hand over his eyes. "Oh fuck, don't tell me anything like that- ever again." He grimaced. "Great. And now the mental image is just…STUCK THERE."
Wufei snorted. "It wasn't before?"
Duo looked at him incredulously. "You too?"
He smirked, shaking his head. "Worse."
An elegant blonde eyebrow raised, intrigued smile blossoming on Quatre's lips. "Really now?"
To the world's eternal shock, the infamous Chang Wufei, terrifying warrior of the Chang clan, blushed. "MUCH worse."
"I don't think I want to know," Duo said, backing away.
"Well, I sure do," Quatre beamed, aqua eyes intent on Wufei. "Who was it?"
Wufei cleared his throat. "It's someone I…respect," he began, obviously stalling for time. "Someone honorable and just and…upstanding…"
"Who IS it, Chang?" Quatre finally demanded.
And that was when a smoldering Heero flung the door open, and managed to whack Duo (who had slowly been crawling towards the door) right in the face with it. Stunned violet eyes just stared at him incredulously for the entire five seconds he remained conscious, and then he slumped to the floor, Heero's equally surprised eyes following the motion.
Quatre and Wufei burst into laughter as Heero glared at them. "What were you doing?"
"You don't want to know-" Wufei began, but was cut off by Quatre's devious smile and a hand being held up, the other hand innocently holding a half-filled teacup.
"If we tell you, you have to participate," he stated- an obvious ultimatum.
Heero frowned, and calculated the risk as he checked over Duo, making sure he'd be okay as soon as he woke up (it looked like a concussion at most, nothing any of them really had a problem dealing with nowadays). Finally, deciding the risk was worth it, Heero nodded, picking Duo off the floor and preparing to set him on the nearby bed.
Quatre grinned. "We were discussing the most…stimulating sexual dreams we've ever had."
Heero turned chalk white.
"My own happened to be an orgy with myself, Trowa, Rashid, and you in a bouncy castle covered in chocolate sauce."
The white began to turn just a bit green as Quatre continued on, like a train utterly determined to wreck itself spectacularly, and as soon as possible.
"And Wufei was just about to say his…?"
Wufei turned crimson, and his eyes clenched shut. "Treize." His whisper must have carried to Tokyo. "In a rowboat."
Quatre beamed at him. "Your turn, Heero!"
He cleared his throat, suddenly VERY conscious of the fact he was basically body-hugging one Duo Maxwell. Even Wufei had recovered, amused eyes watching him.
Dammit, he was Heero Yuy, Gundam Pilot 01. He'd stared down men two- no, THREE times as old as these two. He'd KILLED me three times older. They had said theirs, and if they could do it, Heero Yuy could do it too, God damn it!
Glaring, he snapped out "Duo, in Wing's cockpit. Underwater." He would have thrown Duo onto the bed, but with a potential concussion, that was a bad idea. Instead, he efficiently set him down and stormed back out the door.
Quatre and Wufei looked at each other. Wufei snickered. Quatre grinned.
"Phase one: complete."
x---x
A/N: Seriously, SUCH an update bandit.
I'm being naughty and not doing reader responses, simply because I'm lazy and I SWEAR I'll do 'em next time, since actually I'm gonna go write the next chapter RIGHT NOW because my muse is just tearing through my brain with this fic all of a sudden and I don't want to waste it so YEAH! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!