Author's Note: To those who reviewed, namely Archsage Soren and ShadowMajin, I thank you one more time for your timely feedback concerning Mr. Romafellor. For the rest of you, eh, what can I say? Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

Warning: language, shounen ai

Performing Damage Control

"Any means necessary?" Tsubarov said to himself as he sat in his office.

That had been a given since the beginning but now that Mr. Romafellor commanded it, it made everything that much more dire. Just yesterday he had a plan of what he was going to do. Today, that all went crashing down as he had to look his main employer dead in the eye. Unnerved couldn't begin to describe the anxiety he was feeling.

He had to do something though. The sooner he finished this deal, the sooner he could get out of it and go on to bigger and better things. First, he needed a plan.

Perhaps he could go back to that boy of his and try and get him to agree to help him out. But if yesterday was any indication, that would be easier to say than do. The boy had an unbridled hatred for him, thus making any meeting he might have with him be incredibly difficult.

So what would he do if that didn't work out? Looking down at his desk, he caught sight of a phone number scrawled on a small piece of paper. He stared blankly at it for a moment, wondering what it was for until it suddenly hit him. There was his answer, his plan B.

If the boy refused him, then he would force the boy to forfeit his life and use it as a means to force Winner into agreement. It was a sound plan, a very plain but solid plan. That was the ticket.

He'd hold off on the call until later, at least until after his next meeting with Winner and later the boy. He'd let the boy stew in his offer from yesterday a bit longer then approach him again. Yes, yes, this would work, he was positive of that.

Promotion, here he comes!

--

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you Solomon?" Raberba asked as soon as his nephew made his morning appearance for breakfast, Duo trailing after him.

It was fairly obvious what it was that Raberba was asking about. He was in the living room closest to the dining room, the T.V. on with a clear picture of the vandalized Romafellor building. Solo just stared at the image before looking up at the patriarchic Winner, playing the innocence card to the max.

"It's news to me," Solo told him but Raberba could see that the teen was trying to make his eyes as wide as they could to create a sense of surprise. He had no doubt that Solomon knew about this.

"We know about it already," Duo added in, Solomon's head snapping around to look at the braided teen in shock. "We woke up early and watch some TV before we got out of bed. That was on and we decided to find out what was going on."

Plausible. Duo's explanation seemed airtight and Raberba decided to let it go for now. It didn't seem like Duo was trying to hide something or cover up for Solomon. He nodded and dismissed them, turning back to the television he had been watching, listening in on the quiet statement given out by the head of Romafellor. He would have thought that there would have been more of a reaction from the man that was his business rival since he had had prior experience with the man. That proposal was probably what was making the response from Romafellor tame.

However, he had to admit, it was a pleasant surprise to wake up in the morning to.

--

Despite the importance of this morning's breaking news, the student population of the school had no interest in it whatsoever, especially since the majority of them were still asleep in their beds when the vandalism was first mentioned. As always, the outside world beyond the school walls meant nothing to the teens that had no choice but to populate the building for eight hours every weekday for a good amount of the year. They were all more concerned with whose make-up was hideous or who won the game last night that all the testosterone-pumped males had stayed up to watch.

It was a welcomed atmosphere, in Duo's opinion, since nothing his father did or say had any impact here. He could just pretend that everything was good and dandy and that the bastard wasn't holding parental guardianship over his head like a carrot.

Not everyone at the school, however, was ill-informed. Dorothy knew about what had happened to her grandfather's building but remained uncharacteristically silent for much of the morning as she had to witness her grandfather lose his renown control of his temper that morning. It was quite a fear inducing sight.

That meant nothing to Solo, though, as it presented him with even more Duo-doting time, something he took quick advantage of. While Duo wasn't in the funk that he had been in the day before, something that was a plus in Solo's mind, the braided one was still a bit down in the dumps.

And who wouldn't be? Just when Duo thought his father couldn't sink any lower, he proved him wrong and did just that. Then again, he was Romafellor, a qualified scumbag. He shouldn't have been too surprised by the actions the man had taken yesterday.

So maybe that justified Solo's actions as well. Duo wasn't above making things harder for his old man. The guy deserved it more than anything, especially after all the shit he had subjugated him to for years on end. This vindictive streak was enough to perk him up a bit, enough so that he could hear some of the school gossip around him and notice that his rival Dorothy was oddly quiet this morning, looking more morose than scheming. Also, he could see that Solo had dropped his usual "bad boy" act and was looking at him with affection, much to the envy of the surrounding girls.

Hey, at least he wasn't flaunting it around like some people would. He had class, if nothing else.

Of course, he went through the whole day kinda in a daze of sorts. No, he wasn't completely out of it. It was more like he was aware of everything and heard all that the teachers said that day but things just seemed to be…distant, as if they weren't that important. It was hard to describe, really.

But that was how his day went, no if, ands, or buts.

It was his story and he was sticking to it.

So when school ended that day, he wasn't really in the mood to be happy that the day was over for now. In fact, he wasn't in the mood for anything. Maybe if he just went back to the Winners' and spent some good ol' quality time with Solo, he'd be able to resume normal functions. After all, Quatre had expressed his concern over him during lunch and he didn't want to worry his best friend over a little thing like his welfare now did he?

However, seeing the foreign limo parked in the Winners' driveway was able to induce a dark mood to settle over him. He recognized the limo's plates as easily as if it had been his own and knew that he did not want to encounter his father in any way.

He did not think he would be able to restrain himself from doing anything he might regret later.

Honestly, he was most off-kilter whenever his father was in the physical vicinity. His usually upbeat attitude would always take a turn for the worst and those around him would have to endure the consequences. He still hadn't forgiven himself for beating up those street punks a few days ago, the memory always near the forefront of his mind. He wondered if the others still remembered…

He felt Solo wrap his arm around his shoulders and lead him away from the front and towards the side of the house. It seemed like Solo wanted to spare him any unpleasantries that might result should a meeting between him and his father occur. Bless that guy's heart… The back was clear, the patio empty and not in use. Solo had scouted it first before leading him towards it and in through the patio doors into the house where the blond snuck him up to his room with no run-ins or sightings of anybody, even the hired help who kept the mansion up and running.

Duo did not want to think about how Solo was able to do such a thing since chances were the blond had developed such skills back in his rebel-without-a-cause phase. Thank God he had gotten over that.

"Safe at last," Solo sighed as he locked the door behind them, leaning up against the wooden barrier as if his sneaking abilities had taken a lot out of him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, flopping onto the bed, ignoring the homework they had both been assigned during the day. His backpack laid on the floor, forgotten and unheeded, as the braided one stared up at the ceiling, a sudden lack of energy taking a hold of him.

"Could you tell me how it is you're related to that guy?" Solo asked. "He's an ugly son of a bitch and you look nothing like him. That's just…I can't understand it."

"I guess I take more after my mother," Duo sighed. "At least, that's what Howard and the others keep telling me."

"Others?" Solo perked up.

"Mom's friends," Duo elaborated. "They've been the only people who've stuck by me from the beginning. They tell me I have my mother's eyes. I wouldn't know. I don't remember her at all."

"She must have been quite the looker," Solo whistled. "You must be a carbon copy of her or something."

"I guess," Duo shrugged. "Personally, I think there was more to her than her friends let on. Even Howard's drop some things that kinda go against the whole "she was a saint" spiel that they all keep going on. My father told me once that she was a bloodsucker, an opportunist if you will, and from what I've pieced together, there's a grain of truth in it."

"Nothing about you is ever simple, is it?" Solo sighed as he plopped down on the bed next to the braided one.

"In a nutshell," Duo replied.

"At least it doesn't make it boring," Solo mused. "Never know what's going to happen next."

Duo had no answer to that and did the only thing he could do. He shrugged.

There was really no way he could argue with that, now could he?

--

"I trust that this morning's…events will not be influencing your consideration of our proposal?" Tsubarov questioned Raberba, preparing to leave and vacate the premise as his business here was currently concluded. Still, he had to make sure that nothing that happened today would interfere with future meetings and negotiations.

"I wouldn't be where I am today if I allowed myself to be swayed but what a group of vandals do with their free time," Raberba replied dryly, not wanting to be in Tsubarov's presence a minute longer than needed. "I will be focusing all my attention on your company's proposal without bias, you need not worry about that."

"I appreciate your understanding concerning this matter," Tsubarov said. "Mr. Romafellor was a bit anxious about all this. I will inform him that he need not worry about it."

"Yes, you do that," Raberba said.

As Tsubarov turned away to leave, he paused and turned back towards the Winner patriarch. "There's one last thing I'd like to talk with you about. It concerns my son. Would you happen to know of his current whereabouts? There's something I need to discuss with him."

"I'm afraid to say that I can not help you out there," Raberba answered. "I don't know where my own son is currently, much less yours."

"I understand," Tsubarov said gruffly. "I won't take up anymore of your time today. Until next time."

With the man gone, Raberba allowed himself a sigh of relief.

--

Mueller was a bit surprised at the calm reaction from Romafellor but he was far from discouraged.

He should have expected, or at least considered, this reaction. That conglomerate needed to keep up appearances, no matter the situation. However, they did not know who they were up against. He wasn't going to roll over so easily.

In fact, he had the plans for what he and a few others were going to be doing later tonight to get under Romafellor's skin. He was truly in his element here. He was striking out at the establishment that he always ranted about and there was just something more in just actually doing something about it, no matter how juvenile it was, than just complaining about it.

He had to hand it to Solo; the guy did know who to go to when he needed something.

But that still didn't mean that asshole was off the hook yet, not by a long shot.

That could wait though; he had bigger fish to fry.