Impossible

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction

Rambled Off by The Manwell

Book Two: PREVENTERS

Duo Maxwell

I'm liking this assignment less and less. In the privacy of my office, I scour through the information on the data disk provided by Une and with every passing paragraph, I become more and more convinced that it really should be me going in. I mean, pulling this off is going to take more than your average level of acting ability and I know that's my strong point. Hell, if it weren't for the possibility of that whole brainwashing crap I would be the best choice for this one. Sure, I've been trained to resist that kind of thing, but Heero is leaps and bounds ahead of me there, having spent a good four years more in training than I had. Still, Heero's not what I would call a "natural-born" actor. He prefers to go unseen, either by way of stealth or by redirecting attention away from himself... C4-style. And this mission will require him to blend in with the crowd. He'll be damn lucky if he can manage to play their game without arousing suspicions. Very damn lucky.

I frown at the computer screen, a sour taste in my mouth. I've got a bad feeling about this one. I jab at the arrow keys, scrolling down further. It should be me going in. I want it to be me going in. I fucking hate staying behind the scenes. I hate the waiting. The wondering. The lack of immediate control over the situation. And, of course, blowing shit up is a lovely bonus you don't see around the office very often.

At my elbow, the phone rings. I mark my place with my cursor and check the caller ID. Heh. Figures.

"What is it now, Yuy?" I drawl.

He snorts at me. "I ordered us lunch from Antonia's. It's just arrived."

Oh, shit. At the very mention of that little mom-and-pop Italian take-out place, I begin to salivate. And he freaking knows it, too. Asshole.

"Meet me in my office?" he invites but it might as well be an order because I'm not capable of refusing, regardless.

"Give me five minutes," I reply and hang up.

I power down the pc screen and lock my hard drive before I've returned the phone to its cradle. Still, I don't leap up and race out the door. I sit there and gaze at the phone with narrowed eyes. What had prompted that little offer, I wonder? Is he trying to apologize for stealing my spot on the undercover ops list? But why would he? It's not like he had any control over Une's decision.

I sigh and, shaking my head, stand. I can't figure the guy out. I give up. As long as he follows through on his promise of Antonia's take-out, I don't give a damn about his motivations. Following my nose, I let myself into Heero's office well before my five minutes has expired. I take a seat on the edge of his immaculate desk and accept the white Styrofoam box and plastic utensils. I pop the lid off and grin down at my order. Stromboli. I jab at it with my fork and take an inventory of the contents. Gorgonzola cheese and spinach with two little sauce cups of marinara. Just the way I like it. I'm wondering if he remembered my beverage when he reaches around the white paper bag and collects a pint of chilled milk tea.

I stare at the carton in my hand for a moment before I glare at Heero. He neatly cuts his sausage, mushroom, and mozzarella ravioli into quarters and ignores me.

"Dude," I say, wary of this generosity. "Do you, like, need a favor or something?"

Mouth open and fork an instant from depositing his fist bite on his tongue, he pauses. "What... like watering my plants?"

"You have a cactus," I remind him. I know this because I'd given him one for a gag gift last Christmas. "But yeah, something like that."

He lifts a brow at me. "You will be responsible for my backup during this next mission, won't you?"

"Uhm... that's usually part of desk duty, yes," I reply, thinking I know where this is going. "You think you have to ply me with Antonia's so I won't leave you there?"

"Hm," he says. "I wouldn't put it past you."

I shrug. "Yeah, good point." I dig into my stromboli and think about Heero's words. So he's aware of this assignment's risks and he's concerned enough to mention it even if he hadn't been totally serious. That, more than Heero's uncanny ability to provide me with a selection of nothing less than my favorite foods, worries me.

"Look, man," I tell him, "just don't go vigilante on me and I'll get you home."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" he counters, lips smirking and a single brow arced.

I poke my fork in his direction. "Get that evil grin off of your face, Yuy. I'm the only one allowed to use that look around here."

"No wonder you signed on."

"That's right," I confirm. I turn back to my lunch but don't actually manage to take a bite without getting something else off of my chest first. "Just be careful, Yuy," I grouch. "You know how much I hate it when you go all suicidally heroic and steal all the glory."

He grins back at me, his expression taunting. "Then do your job here so I won't have a reason to."

I glare at him. What a jerk. "In honor of your imminent departure and subsequent banishment from the realm of Antonia's, I'll let you have the last word on that."

"How generous of you," he deadpans.

I think so, too.