Title: Never Turn Your Back on the Sea (15/17)
Section Title: Administration
Pairings: 3x4x3
Rating: M
Warnings: Language

Heero didn't believe in precognition. He believed in observation, pattern recognition and, maybe in a pinch, he believed in intuitive leaps of logic, but he didn't believe in precognition.

That didn't stop him from silently berating himself that he hadn't seen it coming.

The videofeed from the Judicial Administration Building on L-2 was live. There was no two-second delay as there usually was when a potentially violent bit of footage was being displayed, mainly because no one expected any violence. Why should they? Raleigh Yates's crimes, while heinous, hadn't been particularly violent. His detractors, though vocal, were not prone to violence. The Colony was a peaceful one. Firearms regulations were strictly enforced--this was the administrative hub of the L-2 cluster, after all.

No one had expected to see the man's head get blown off. Not even Heero.

On the screen, panic and chaos erupted. Journalists scattered like cockroaches suddenly exposed to light. Remote-controlled cameras zoomed in on the carnage while human camera operators dived to safety. Guards drew sidearms and aimed them wildly at the crowd, causing a feedback loop of terror.

The screen went dark. Heero turned to his left and saw Relena standing there with the remote control in her hand. She looked pale in the light of the half-opened blinds. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said.

Sounding more composed than her blank-eyed stare indicated, she asked, "How could that happen?"

That wasn't the question Heero had expected from her. "Why do people kill each other? You know the answer to that as well as I do."

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the dark screen. "That isn't what I meant. How could he have smuggled a gun onto an administrative colony?"

Heero didn't like where her train of thought was going. "I don't know who you're talking about. No one who didn't work there could have had a gun."

"You know very well who I am talking about, and he did work there."

"Relena, he was there as a cook. Cooks are not ordinarily allowed to have firearms."

"Ordinarily." She turned away from the screen and looked him full in the face. Her eyes were clouded with emotion. "We are not talking about an ordinary person, Heero."

"We're not talking about someone who kills anymore, either."

"Is something wrong?"

Heero turned toward the new voice and was surprised to see Trowa standing in the doorway looking a little travel-weary and rumpled, but hardly murderous. His duffel bag was slung over one shoulder and he was still wearing his jacket; evidently he had just come in from the shuttleport.

"Trowa!" Relena said with a little hitch in her voice. She ran to him and took his hands in hers as if assuring herself that he was real. "Oh thank God."

Trowa smiled. "It's nice to see you, too." His eyes met Heero's, and his smile faded. "I can't help feeling I walked in on something, though. Am I interrupting you?"

Without a word, Heero picked up the discarded remote control and turned the news back on. The live feed had switched back to the studio talking heads, but the story was the same. Already, the shooter had picked up the nickname Unknown Assassin, capitals included.

"Well," Trowa said dryly, folding his arms over his chest, "I don't normally speak ill of the dead, but in this case I have to say good riddance."

"Who do you suppose would do that?" Relena asked him.

Trowa gave her an oddly fraternal smile, and once again Heero wished he knew what the hell had gone on between his old war friend and his wife the last time Trowa had been around. If he didn't trust her so implicitly...but that thought wasn't very productive. "Plenty of people have been hurt by Yates, you know. It wasn't just limited to us."

"That's true," she said. "His ex-wife, for example, and his employees, and all those people in Tunisia and Nova Scotia who got sick..."

Trowa raised his eyebrows. "You know about them? I wasn't aware they had released the transcripts of the trial yet."

Relena looked slightly guilty. "They haven't. Those spiderbots you planted were quite effective."

"They actually worked?"

"You don't need to sound so surprised," Heero said.

Trowa cleared his throat and picked up the duffel bag he had dropped when Relena greeted him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go up to my room. It's been a long trip and I'm tired."

"Of course you are," Relena said smoothly, taking his elbow and ushering him out of the room. "And maybe after you've rested and washed up I can show you Opal's puppies."

Trowa looked interested. "Opal? She's the border collie who kept herding the ducklings in the pond, right? I didn't realize she was pregnant."

"Oh yes, and her dam and sire were such wonderfully friendly, intelligent dogs, I'm sure her pups will be amazing, if not purebred. If you'd like one..." Relena's voice trailed away as she led Trowa toward the stairs.

Heero flung himself down in an armchair and switched the television on, savagely pressing the channel button until the screen showed something not even remotely related to news.

Wufei was pacing again.

Quatre really wished he would stop doing that. It was making his own legs ache just watching Wufei go into Preventers mode as he marched from one corner of the recreation lounge to another, endlessly, relentlessly.

At the other end of the room, Duo was coping with the isolation problem by reading every single publication he could find in the recreation area, including the magazines which seemed to be devoted to celebrities, Bigfoot, aliens, and improbable combinations thereof. In Quatre's lighter moments, he suspected Duo was beginning to believe some of it.

Boredom did strange things to people.

"What time is it?" Wufei asked, stopping suddenly.

"We've got an hour and fifteen minutes to go," Quatre said after glancing at his watch. He didn't need to be more specific since their days had begun to revolve around the one hour they were allowed to use the phones and computers for limited purposes. McInnes had looked slightly bewildered when he had informed them of their new privilege, and Quatre felt a little bewildered himself since it had been granted the very day after Yates's assassination. However, it wouldn't do to look a gift horse in the mouth. He took advantage of the hour just as Wufei and Duo did, with no questions asked.

Since communications were restricted to business matters and were very closely monitored, Quatre had not risked contacting Trowa...at least, not directly. He contacted only Rashid who, since he was nominally Quatre's boss, would be beyond suspicion. He also trusted that Rashid was subtle enough to read between the lines and sympathetic enough to relay the carefully chosen words of reconciliation, apology and hope that peppered his speech.

"A dolphin communications expert has just translated a message from the Lake Champlain monster. She says it just wants love and peace for all mankind and more salmon," Duo read.

"A sentiment I'm sure we can all agree on," Wufei muttered, pacing more furiously than before.

Quatre glanced away and concentrated on his own form of coping, which involved a tangle of rings, horseshoe-shapes and squiggles of wrought iron knotted together into a puzzle that he suspected was designed to drive the solvee into performing an act of physical violence to get the pieces separated. He twisted and tugged on the piece that looked the loosest to him, but it was firmly hung up and refused to budge. He took a slow, deep breath and set the puzzle aside. "Has Director Une replied to your request yet, Wufei?"

"No," Wufei said shortly.

"Really? It's been three days."

"Only three days," Wufei said. "It's not like I asked her for an afternoon off to visit the dentist."

"Rising singing sensation Mellie Mercredi is losing six kilos per week on a diet of red cabbage and hard boiled eggs," Duo informed them, still immersed in his tabloid. "'I am a shadow of my former self,' says the sylphlike but flatulent diva, who can only be photographed from a distance."

Wufei made a face. "I think I'd rather have the extra weight."

The puzzle rested at Quatre's elbow, taunting him. He made a valiant attempt to ignore it. "But hasn't Une said anything? Isn't she at least thinking about it?"

"I'm sure she's thinking about it, but it was hard enough to get me here in the first place. It would be very awkward for her to pull me out before the trial is over."

"But we don't even know when that will be," Quatre said, leaning away from the tangled piece of ironmongery. It seemed to be exerting some kind of unholy magnetic grip on him.

"I know that!" Wufei said. "I'm just as aware of the time slipping by as you are, Winner."

Quatre felt his cheeks grow warm with anger. "Don't snap at me, Wufei. You're not the only one under pressure here, you know."

Wufei spun to face him, hands fisted on his hips. "Oh, and I suppose your livelihood is on the line too?"

That was unfair. "Your so-called livelihood was never on the line and you know it. You just can't stand the waiting, can you? That's your problem, Wufei, you don't have any patience."

"I have plenty of patience, and how dare you insinuate--"

"Do you guys want to know what the top ten signs that your girlfriend is an alien are?" Duo asked loudly.

"NO!"

"Then quit bickering." Duo gave each of them a long, dark look before turning back to his magazine.

He was right, of course. Quatre felt an apology rise to his lips, but he suppressed it, knowing that it would sound empty and meaningless while their feelings were still running high.

Wufei began to pace again. Quatre picked up his puzzle and twisted a curly part around and around a rod. Duo raised an eyebrow over a particularly outrageous article. "I had no idea President Neilson could fit into his granddaughter's school uniform. Although," he tilted the page and squinted at the grainy black-and-white image, "those baggy socks might not look half bad if he shaved his legs."

"Maybe he's been on Mellie Mercredi's diet," Wufei remarked.

At least they were back to normal, Quatre thought. He set his puzzle aside after giving it one last savage jerk and stood up. Maybe he needed to be alone for a while. He could go back to his suite, have a hot shower and order a glass of wine, maybe take a nap...

As he reached for the doorknob, though, the door suddenly swung open and he caught himself just before he ran into Council McInnes. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, taking a step backward.

"Mr. Winner," McInnes said, nodding in acknowledgement. He was dressed as impeccably as ever, but the suit seemed to be hanging on him a little loosely, as if he hadn't been eating well the last few days. His granite grey eyes were bloodshot, Quatre noticed, and his shoulders were somewhat slumped. He looked exhausted.

"Won't you come in, Council?" he asked, holding the door open wide. "We've been looking forward to seeing you."

"Thank you." McInnes looked around the recreation lounge before entering, and Quatre was acutely aware of the mess the three of them had made of it. The floor was littered with scraps of paper, dollops of food and bits of discarded exercise equipment, there were stains on the upholstery, and plates and mugs and cloudy-looking glasses covered most of the surface area.

Quatre decided to ignore it. He walked a few step ahead of the council and looked at Wufei, who was slouched against the pool table, then at Duo, who was frowning over the tabloid, and said to the room at large, "Council McInnes is here."

Duo discreetly folded his paper and stashed it behind his chair. "Council, good to see you," he said.

McInnes nodded at him and took a seat in the chair Quatre had just abandoned. Quatre went to stand next to Wufei at the pool table and watched as the council set his briefcase down on the low table between his and Duo's chairs. Judging by the way the man hefted it, it was fairly heavy.

"I owe you all an apology," McInnes said, glancing at each of them in turn. "This has gone on far longer than we expected."

"If this is about Yates," Wufei said, "I can assure you we understand. That was quite a shock."

"Yes, it has been. Especially for Mr. Ervy." McInnes unlocked his briefcase and took out a folder so thick he had to press the cover down to keep it from flying open. "He's had a...setback."

"A setback," Duo repeated in a flat voice. Quatre glanced at him and saw that his eyes were glued to the folder with narrow intensity. "This setback wouldn't happen to include wetting the bed and hysterical fits around men, would it?"

"He's had a psychological setback," McInnes said as if he hadn't heard. "It's been severe enough to require a re-evaluation--"

"Oh no," Quatre said, pushing himself away from that table, but his reaction was overshadowed by Wufei's furious snarl and Duo's outraged howl.

"What do you mean, a 're-evaluation'? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that the psychological evaluators have interviewed him once again," McInnes said, handing Duo a sheaf of papers, "and they are awaiting the medical team. You're all perfectly welcome to review the initial results."

Quatre wasted no time in moving behind Duo's chair to read the report over his shoulder, and Wufei wasn't far behind him. It wasn't by chance that the first words Quatre picked up from the summary were 'nocturnal enuresis' and 'androphobia'. He glanced down at the long list of medications Blue was taking and was not surprised to find that he didn't know what most of them were for. There were some common ones prescribed for major depression and anxiety, but the others...

"This is the same old shit," Duo said angrily, crumpling the papers in his hands.

"Duo, let me see that," Quatre said, making a grab for the sheaf. Instead of handing it to him, Duo wadded it into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder. The papers hit Quatre in the face and bounced off, but he grabbed the wad before it hit the floor. He began to smooth them out and read while Duo paced back and forth in front of the table.

"Exactly," Council McInnes said. Quatre glanced up at him and saw that he was remaining in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, his hands folded loosely on his knee. If he was intimidated by Duo's outburst, he was either ignoring it or was too exhausted to react to it. "He has been given the same drug regimen since this started and now he is behaving abnormally..."

Quatre drowned out the Council's voice and began to read the report for himself, barely noticing as Wufei settled down beside him.

"This is completely ridiculous."

Warder Gil Hammins could not have agreed more. He tried not to look at his charge, who was shackled hand and foot with a pillowcase over his head. Looking at the boy might have brought Hammins's carefully-hidden hysterics to the surface, and he needed to keep his cool for this. "It won't be for very long, Nina. A week, ten days at the most."

The head warder for the women's detention facility was a solid-looking woman with gimlet eyes and the disposition of a rattlesnake. She could sense fear and weakness on a person, and by the way she was staring at Coe Ervy's hooded, quivering form, Hammins could tell the boy was in for it.

"I'm not putting him anywhere near my girls," she said with undisguised contempt. "They're annoyed enough as it is. If they thought one of the boys was getting preferential treatment..."

"I think keeping him separated would be for the best," Hammins said, feeling slightly relieved. The change of venue for his prisoner had not relieved him of responsibility for him, after all, and he honestly didn't want any harm to come to the boy. He just wanted the damn /weirdness/ to stop. He was running a jail, not a sanitarium.

Warder Nina Hemba narrowed her eyes at him. "Anything special I should know about him? He looks a little skittish."

"Rubber sheets," Hammins said, "and don't forget his medication." He handed her a plastic bag which fairly rattled with pill bottles, which she took with a grimace of distaste.

"All right, Gil, I'll take him, but I'm only doing it as a personal favor, not because I think it's a good idea."

"Duly noted," Hammins said, diplomatically refraining from telling her she didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. He pushed Ervy forward a step and let Nina take his elbow. "Be a good boy now."

"Yes, sir," Ervy's muffled voice came from beneath the pillowcase, which Hammins snatched from his head and tucked under his arm. Ervy did not protest as he went down the long, grey hall of Women's Detention, and as Warder Hemba led him around the corner, Hammins sighed in sheer relief.

"The long and short of the matter," McInnes said at last, "is that nobody wants custody of him."

Duo unfolded his hands and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I can see that," he said, glaring at the report spread across the coffee table. "Too crazy to stay locked up here and not crazy enough for the hospital...so where is he now?"

Council McInnes gave a very slight cough, which Duo was fairly sure intended to cover up a smile. "He's still here. He's been transferred to Women's Detention."

Wufei let out a bark of laughter, but Quatre looked concerned. "Is that safe, Council?"

"Safe as can be," McInnes assured him. "Women's Detention is no more nor less secure than the men's facility, it's just a bit less crowded and quieter there. We agreed it would be best for all parties if he stayed there till his trial could begin."

"And when will that be?" Wufei asked.

McInnes spread his hand apologetically. "I'm afraid I can't answer that, Agent Chang. It could be next week, or it could be next month. I assure you, we're doing everything we can to speed this along."

Wufei said nothing, but pushed himself away from the pool table and stalked to the window, turning his back on them. Duo could tell from the rigid set of his shoulders that Wufei was righteously pissed off. He could relate.

"Right, let's narrow the parameters a little," Quatre said briskly. "When is Ervy due to be re-evaluated?"

"Monday morning."

"That's five days from now. Why so long?"

"We would like to have the original evaluation team do the workup and that's the earliest time they can see him. Mr. Winner," McInnes said, and Duo watched with interest as Quatre flinched slightly, "you have to realize that this is not exactly a high-priority case. Mr. Ervy was a minor at the time of the attempted crime--"

"The attempted crime?"

"Yes. Conspiracy to commit murder was the crime he was charged with, and you are obviously alive and sound. Therefore, the charge is in question pending further--"

Duo couldn't take any more. The betrayal of trust, the fear and worry, the tedious waiting, the isolation, everything he had dealt with over the last six weeks came to a head and he shouted, "Fuck this!"

McInnes and Quatre jumped a little and stared at him. Even Wufei turned around. Duo didn't care. He was livid.

"I let that kid into my home, I trusted him! And then he goes behind my back to try to undermine my business--hurts one of my best friends--lies and cheats and--Goddammit! Are you saying he might walk free? What the hell is wrong with this picture, folks? Tell me!"

Utter silence reigned for a moment. Duo, breathing rapidly and feeling like his heart might just burst out of his chest, glanced at Wufei, then at Quatre, then at McInnes.

"Tell me," he said.

"That's what he was charged with," McInnes said. He stared at Duo as if trying to wear him down with his gaze, but Duo was beyond that. He was not about to be cowed by a mere stare, and if McInnes moved one muscle toward him, he would gladly have gutted the good Council with his bare hands.

Then Quatre gave a little gasp, and Duo's eyes flicked toward him. "What?" he demanded, but Quatre wasn't paying much attention to him.

"Conspiracy to commit murder was all he was charged with?" Quatre asked quietly.

"That was the official complaint," McInnes said, turning his intense gaze toward Quatre.

"Yes, and he damn near did kill you!" Duo shouted, but neither McInnes nor Quatre looked his way. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wufei move, but Wufei wasn't looking at him either. He was looking at the report, and he was smiling. "Are you all nuts?" he wondered aloud.

Quatre looked at him, and he was smiling as well. He winked, then looked back at McInnes. "We would like to drop the conspiracy charge."

"Very well," McInnes said, to Duo's open-mouthed surprise. "I'll see you gentlemen tomorrow."

TBC