Playing Stupid

Chapter Three

A Million Millipedes

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Duo was sitting cross legged in the milky environment. He had managed to materialize a few board games - or BORED games, as he liked to call them - and was rewriting the rules of Chutes and Ladders when Shinigami appeared suddenly before him. Duo raised a hand in greeting, not bothering to look up from his board game.

The ornery god looked about a moment in confusion. "How'd I get here?"

The other frowned. "You got here the same way you always get into my mind; without asking."

"Did you call me?"

Duo looked about a moment and spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Uh, no." He rolled his eyes and returned to his BORED game, twiddling his finger beside his temple in the universal sign of a lunatic.

"Then who…" Shinigami turned his back to Duo before crumpling into a ball where he had materialized, hands shooting up to clutch his head. The god didn't make a sound, but rolled about on the floor of the milky white expanse for a few moments before he stiffened and stopped moving altogether.

"Shin?" Boredom instantly forgotten, Duo hopped to his feet in a rain of BORED games and playing pieces, taking a moment to steady himself as his battered head spun from the sudden change in balance.

Slowly, enormous bat wings began to sprout from the other's back, growing and growing until they unfurled in a gust of wind that sent Duo sprawling back onto his hinny, one cheek landing painfully on a rather pointy game piece. He was sure that would turn into a rather amusing bruise within the next hour.

Bruise tucked away for perusal at a later moment, Duo watched as the bat wings stretched one at a time from the crumpled form as if they had not been used in some time. And after a few moments of streatching, the figure stood, suspiciously minus the floor-length trench coat.

"Shin?" Duo asked again, digging out the game piece from where it had nearly embedded itself in his posterior. "You ok?" He watched the other stand stiffly to their feet. "Bat wings? Isn't that a bit cliché-ish?" He tossed said game piece to the god.

"The term is 'cliché-IC'. And I happen to like the bat wings."

The figure turned over their shoulder, wide-set green eyes peered out of a dark face, black hair brushing his cheeks. It was not Shinigami.

Without bothering to ask the obvious questions like 'who the hell are you' and 'how did you get in to my mind', Duo's mental barriers flew up; the old, skinny naked man and his donkey appeared between him and the intruder.

Just as soon as he appeared, the old skinny man disappeared in a puff of black smoke, his donkey followed suit a moment later, imploding first into a rabbit, then a mouse before being snuffed out of existence.

"Not bad. My reports said there was only one psychic among the Gundam pilots, and he was the Winner kid. Apparently OZ intelligence isn't as accurate as they like to believe."

"OZ," Duo almost cursed. He could feel the other probing through his mind, pushing at the barriers. If he gave in, all the information he knew would be vulnerable; information on their training, their safe houses, their Gundams. It was much easier to beat a mind into submission from the inside, but that was only if you were strong enough to know what you were doing. "Who are you?" he asked the obvious question, wanting to know whose ass he'd have to kick later once he wormed his way out of this one.

The other shrugged. "You're not my problem," and he disappeared in a rat of black wind.

Duo ran to the spot where the intruder last stood, cursing violently as he circled about. "OZ had psychics working for them?" he snarled. "That blast on the last mission probably wasn't meant for me, then. Probably Quatre."

He stopped, eyes going wide. "Shit. And Shin and I sabotaged Quatre's room. That will give whoever that bastard was perfect reason to be alone with Quatre." He cursed again and tried to open his mind without bringing down the mental barriers. "Shin? You there? Hello?"

A faint glimmer answered him, too far away and too weak to latch on to.

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Wu Fei was first through the front door, ready to rub in the cool devices he had hawked off of OZ, only to find Duo sitting nauseatingly comfortable on the couch, soda in one hand, TV remote in the other. The Chinese pilot snarled. The bastard was ENJOYING having no work to do!

"Yo!" the braided idiot tossed off a mock salute from the couch. "Bring me home anything good to play with?"

"How about my foot in your ass, Maxwell?" Wu Fei snarled.

"Ooh, sounds like fun. My room or yours?"

The Shen Long pilot was nearing a vein-throbbing tantrum when he stopped suddenly and grew an incredulous look. "What did you do to my room, Maxwell!?" and he promptly retreated to the back rooms.

"Nothing, jeesh. Paranoid, much?" He rolled his eyes.

Trowa and Heero entered next, Heero eyeing the living room suspiciously as if his next step would trip a trap that would end up with a pie in his face. It wouldn't have been the first time, and he wouldn't put it past Duo to booby trap the entire safe house out of lack of anything better to do. Just to be safe, he asked the standard question: "What did you do?"

"NOTHING!" the figure on the couch said incredulously, sitting up from where he lounged, tossing the remote to the table. "Hey, you jerks are the ones who insisted on leaving me here to 'hold down the fort'," he quoted with his fingers. "There's only so much daytime television a guy can stand, you know."

"What did you do?" Trowa and Heero echoed.

Quatre brought up the rear, stepping passed the other pilots and tossing his flight goggles to a table beside the door. The braided pilot was furiously trying to defend himself.

"Something's not right here," Trowa said suspiciously eyeing Duo.

Quatre stretched an arm over his head. "When you figure it out, come get me. I'm going to bed."

The menace on the couch watched innocently as Quatre began down the back halls to his room.

"Tell us what you've done, Duo," Trowa was probing insistently, refusing to move past the doorway.

"Nothing!" he protested again. "Really!" He smiled a wide, toothy smile that did nothing to help the 'innocent' image he was attempting to portray. "Three… two… one…"

A blood curdling scream echoed from the back rooms. From the sound, it was Quatre.

"Oh," he said, raising a finger. "I MIGHT have filled Quatre's bed with cockroaches and millipedes."

Within seconds, a very flustered blonde pilot stormed back into the room, face nearly the color of his pink cardigan. "Duo Maxwell!" he shouted, causing even Heero to jump. "You WILL get back there and remove EVERY LAST BUG from my bed and room. NOW!"

Trowa gulped and took a step back, only vaguely noting Heero chose that moment to go check on their stolen Jeep to make sure it was still where he had parked it no more than two minutes ago.

With a snigger, the braided menace on the couch pushed to his feet and stretched. "Fine, fine. Boy, no one here has a sense of humor."

Wu Fei was pressed up against the wall when Quatre stomped back through the hall leading Duo by the arm. He gulped as the blonde passed, giving a sympathetic look to Duo. The other offered up an ornery smile as he disappeared into the bedroom after Quatre.

"Quatre's scary when he's pissed off," Wu Fei whispered to himself.

An insistent hiss brought Wu Fei's attention to the front door, Trowa furiously waving him down as if his life depended on it. Soon Heero appeared over the other pilot's shoulder and beckoned him with a simple nod.

A bit confused, the Chinese pilot made his way back into the living room to the front door. As soon as he was within arms reach, both Trowa and Heero hauled him outside by great handfuls of his clothing and flung the door closed behind them.

"For the love of… what is with you two!?" Wu Fei protested, ripping his arms free and adjusting his white tank top and billowing pants that had now been stretched beyond help.

Heero and Trowa exchanged a glance before Trowa said simply. "He lied."

Wu Fei startled back a step. "What? What did I lie about!?"

"Not you, Chang," Heero grumbled under his breath, looking over Trowa's shoulder to ensure no movement could be seen through the living room window. "Duo."

"Duo lied?"

Trowa explained. "He outright said he did 'nothing' to the safe house when asked. When we usually ask Duo what ridiculous prank he's pulled this time, he evades the answer by saying something like 'Don't you trust me', or 'Would I do anything like that'. This time, he flat out said 'nothing'. And Quatre ended up with a bed full of insects."

"Duo doesn't lie," Heero summed up, hand ghosting to the gun he had cleverly stashed in his spandex pants. "You armed?"

"Of course."

"Good. Here's the plan."

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To be continued …