Playing Stupid

Chapter Five

They're coming to take me away, Ha Ha!

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A very flustered blonde sat on the living room couch, fending off a marathon session of Twenty Questions which seemed to be coming from both Heero and Trowa at the same time. And it didn't help that Wu Fei's only contribution to the conversation was the occasional "you're and idiot, Maxwell", or "be serious, you dolt."

"Stop!" the blonde whined in a tone distinctly reminiscent of Duo. "I think my brain just sprang a sanity leak."

"Too bad," Heero grumbled, almost emotional. "You'll answer our questions until we're certain you are who you say you are and we're sure Quatre's safe."

Duo-in-Quatre's-body slumped forward and let out a long, dramatic groan. "But I'm hungry!!!"

"Suck it up, Mawell," Wu Fei grumbled.

"See!" Duo pointed obsessively at the Chinese pilot. "Wuffie believes I'm me! Or… I mean…" The blonde deflated and seemed to sink into the couch.

"You still have to convince the rest of us. Now, answer the question: what is your mission prerogative?"

"Do I get extra points if I answer in the form of a question?"

"Maxwell!"

"What?! My mission prerogative is gonna be to kick all your sorry asses when I get out of this mess! You think the superglue on the toilet seats at the last safe house was a bitch, you just wait!" The blonde shook a fist at them collectively as his face began to turn red. He began to tap his head furiously. "I've got pranks stored in the back of my noggin that would make the fire ant fiasco look like a whoopee cushion!"

Wu Fei and Trowa absently scratched at imaginary stings.

Heero, however, was unfazed. "Answer the question!"

Duo pulled at his platinum locks. "Guys, if you don't get your heads out of your asses, I'm gonna start singing!"

Heero stomped across the living room and leaned in nearly nose to nose with the blonde Arabian, the gun shoved into is temple. "What is your mission!" he yelled, emphasizing each word.

Duo plunged his fingers into his ears and began singing at the top of his lungs. "Do your balls hang low? Do they wobble to and fro?"

Wu Fei wailed and clenched his fists. "Maxwell!!"

The singing continued. "Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow?"

A slipper flew and Duo dodged expertly, switching songs. "Don't need to spring for dinner, Or wear all that sexy stuff. All you need's a set of fingers and a wanker or a muff. 'Cause everybody's doin' it, all across the land. Masturbators Of America, Give Yourselves A Hand!"

Heero grunted in dissatisfaction and pulled back a bit miffed. He wasn't sure if it was the oddity of seeing Quatre sing dirty songs at the top of his lungs – and quite off key at that – or the fact that whoever was in Quatre's mind was beginning to play a convincing Duo Maxwell.

Trowa was pinching the bridge of his nose as Duo continued his dirty crooning. Around the living room, Heero seemed only barely annoyed and Wu Fei was on the verge of committing Duo-icide. If the personality inhabiting Quatre wasn't Duo Maxwell…

"Say we believe you," Trowa cut in on the next song which apparently had something to do with a sex change operation gone bad. For a moment, the serenading annoyance fell silent and Trowa breathed a sigh of relief. "Say we believe you," he repeated. "How do we get you back into your body?"

The blonde shrugged. "Search me. Only trick Quatre ever taught me was 'old-naked-guy-and-a-donkey'. Got no idea how to switch bodies at will."

Trowa paused to take in the 'old naked man' bit and couldn't help but shutter; if that wasn't Duo Maxwell, he'd shave his head.

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In a random interrogation room, the oz psychic still sat bound in a chair, mainly to keep him sitting upright as he appeared to be in a trance. His head bobbed rhythmically under sparse muscle control, the man occasionally muttering in his stupor.

"… impact tolerance… 154 point seven Newton's to the upper pectoral armor plate…" he mumbled, his head bobbling forward before it was snapped back.

To one side, a soldier with a hefty notebook was busy scribbling down the ramblings. He had plowed through about a quarter of the notebook's pages already, writing furiously before flipping the page in a shrill crinkle of paper.

The other officer in the room, dressed in a neat blue and white French-style colonial suit seemed to be chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Location. We need a location!" Treize Khushrenada shifted uneasily in place a moment before beginning to pace the floor.

The black-haired man in the chair bobbed his head a few more times before he mumbled again. "Thirty-three degrees, forty-eight minutes north…" his head bobbed again as he mumbled something incoherent. "One-hundred-thirty degrees, forty-four minutes east…"

"That's in one of the northern provinces of Kyuushu," the soldier taking notes added, quickly jotting down the coordinates.

Treize turned to another soldier in the room. "Send a battalion! I want all available Leo's en route in five minutes." When the soldier did not immediately take off, he barked an irate "Now!" and sent the soldier scurrying.

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"What are we going to do?" Trowa paced the floor steadily, glaring at the blonde boy on the couch and the bound, braided and unconscious pilot on the floor.

"A better question is who is this OZ psychic and what information does he know about us?" Heero still had his gun in his hand, still entertaining the possibility of emptying the entire clip into the head of Quatre Rabarba Winner.

"That's two questions," Duo in Quatre's body answered, scrubbing a hand through short platinum blonde hair. He had apparently been repeating that same action for quite some time now as Quatre's normally well groomed coif sprouted at odd angles from his head.

"Answer the question, Quatre," Heero growled, handling his gun suspiciously.

"Duo," the blonde corrected.

"Maxwell!" Wu Fei stormed across the living room which had been turned into a make-shift interrogation room and took Duo by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth violently to improve the reception. "Does OZ know our position!?"

Duo let the Chinese pilot shake Quatre's body a couple times before he was inevitably saved by a firm hand from Trowa. "From what I can piece together;" he took a deep breath, "This guy's name is Tion Something-or-other, probably as much as I know, and yes… does that help?"

All three pilots were silent a moment.

Wu Fei was the first to react, cursing quite colorfully in Chinese before retreating to the back rooms. Various sounds of thumping and clanging could be heard before he returned, his sword strapped to his waist and hauling several duffle bags. "If OZ knows our location, we have to move." He stomped across the living room and out the front door.

"Agreed." Heero made it to his feet, glaring death upon both the bound body of Duo and the possessed form of Quatre. "You're not coming with us."

"I know," Duo answered quietly, hanging his head.

Trowa mumbled something but remained silent.

"If there's any chance of Kat and me getting switched back, it's in OZ custody. And OZ isn't stupid enough to harm anyone on Queen Relena's council."

"What about Duo?" Trowa began. "If OZ does away with Duo's body with Quatre's mind still in there, what happens?"

Duo scrubbed a hand through his hair again, not helping his current coif. "As far as I can figure out, as long as we're in the vicinity of our bodies, our minds go back to where they belong if one body dies."

"Then, if Duo's body dies and Quatre's mind returns to his body…"

The question was cut off as Wu Fei stormed back into the house, nearly throwing the front door off it's hinges. "Mobile Suits in the distance! At least a full battalion. Maybe more!"

"Thirty-five suits," Trowa growled. "They must want us bad to send that many after us."

"I have Shen Long in pre-flight," Wu Fei was saying as he grabbed duffle bags the pilots usually had pre packed incase they had to pack up and leave on a moment's notice. "Get your asses in gear!"

Duo looked about madly before a gun was shoved in his face, aquamarine eyes looking up to see Heero scoffing down at him. "Take this," he said, emotionless. "No plans, no pep talks. OZ will only find out through whatever moron they've got shoved in your body."

Duo nodded and gladly took the weapon. "I'll do what I do best," he gave an evil grin.

"Be an ornery little shit?"

Despite the fact it was Quatre's face that contorted into that evil little grin, Duo could be seen in full glory. The pilot bared all his teeth and tossed off a mock salute, rising to run off into the kitchen. A clang of pots and pans was heard before he returned toting an armload of kitchen utensils and baking equipment. "Quatre won't miss these."

With a forced chuckle, Trowa loaded his arms with duffle bags and random items and hurried out the front door after Heero.

With his friends preparing their hasty retreat, Duo stopped and looked around a moment, sighing heavily. He had accepted his fate and didn't blame his friends one least bit for leaving him and Quatre behind. They were a security risk. And if this Tion Gilander guy could possibly take full control over one of their bodies, being behind the controls of a Gundam at such an opportunity would prove lethal.

With one last glance to his body lying bound on the floor, Duo prepared his ambush.

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To be continued