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"Bedraggled "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: R Warnings: Post EW, language, violence, yaoi Summary: Zechs discovers a pest in his mansion. After careful consideration, he decides against calling the exterminator Pairings: 6x2
"Bedraggled "
Part 6. Merquise initially classified the women as Amazons. Very aggressive. But a brisk exchange of shots on the topic of appropriate behavior soon had them ranked as The Three Furies. Inyes with a moral vengeance. Most definitively. The females decided upon a divide and conquer strategy. Sally pounced upon Duo, pulse-taking and tsk-tsking, all the while lecturing about the evils of moves in the field performed by personnel emphatically consigned to sick roll, and too ill even to totter safely as far as the rest room without assistance. Hand to hand combat, indeed! Death threats and dire predictions glibly rolled off her tongue. Meanwhile, Relena, having visually fixed her brother against the nearest wall, commenced lecturing on the topic of familial duties, the cruelty of arriving back unannounced from vast and dangerous distances of icy black space. She then delved rather indignantly into questions of gentlemanly propriety, the role of the host with respect to sick guests, as well as which activities ought to be considered uncategorically uncivilized comportment under all circumstances. Une performed a perfect pendulum, demanding crime scene data from Merquise, while dressing-down Duo on the topic of shooting civilians dead on the scene, while so much more than out of uniform as to be nearly bare-assed naked in public. With gore splattered upon the pavement to boot. A significant portion of Zechs' disordered cerebration was busy recalling the comparative attributes of gorgons and harpies. A minor component of his thought process dwelt upon his underpants, lying over there on the chair. They were the color of the midnight blue sky, composed of one of those silky space age fabrics that are said to "breathe". A spooky attribute for an inanimate object, in his opinion. He never had been aware of his briefs breathing until this moment, when the undergarment appeared to have taken on a life of its own. It now seemed to shout and wave at his sister, demanding her attention, almost screaming "I'm over here, and Mil's buttocks are over there. What is wrong with this picture, pray tell?" At first, Relena merely stared between sentences at his abandoned underpants. But soon she glared at them in an almost exclusive accusatory manner. After a few minutes, Zechs noticed the attention of Sally and Une also lingering upon his forlorn briefs. He began to wonder if the fabric were sufficiently yielding to wrap around the average human neck, thereby forming a rather elegantly colored garrote. Zechs was saved from committing homicide by the kid's brilliant intercession. It was, quite simply, a perfect save, a strategy ingenious in its direct simplicity. Duo whimpered. Thereby instantly kick shifting all females within hearing distance into maternal mode. Merquise was to be commended for not instantly slinking away. While he refused to abandon the kid, however, he did seize the opportunity to list, out loud and in exquisite detail, all the things he had done while acting the concerned caregiver. Well, perhaps not all the things he had done. He left the act of coitus in dark obscurity. Likewise omitted mentioning the administration of alcohol to a teenager. And definitely skirted the fact of having decked Maxwell in their initial meeting. But Merquise unabashedly dwelt upon descriptions of carrying Duo when he collapsed, tucking him into bed, reading to him, dosing him with prescriptives, watering and feeding him. Arriving at the subject of nutrition allowed Maxwell to inform the ladies of the dreadful deprivation ongoing at the Mars colony. Suddenly, Zechs found himself the pathetic hero of the hour. Une was vocally irate at the government for their callous neglect of the helpless colonists. Relena was determined to rally her political forces in support of the Martian project. And Sally offered medical advice on the merits of gradient refeeding diets upon return from starvation, meanwhile eying Merquise's skin, hair and teeth for evidence of scurvy and beriberi. By the time he had gotten rid of the females in a manner acceptable to the tenets of civilized society, Zechs' level of exhaustion approached the kid's. He collapsed onto the pillows and gathered Duo's unresisting form into his grasp. "I was attempting to recall the difference between the Lares and Penates." "Cuz why?" "Females, domesticity, overdose. I have to offer no better excuse than that." "Guess Lena would be a Lar, being family to ya. And Sally would be a Penat, going on indefinitely about diet. Which would leave Une. Hmm, difficult. Cardea, in charge of guarding the door?" "Very good. Tending toward the Romans, but still quite classical. Most impressive." Duo chuckled into the cloth of Zechs' shirt. "I was thinking more along the lines of Hermes and Aphrodite." "Since we were very nearly caught together in the act?" Zechs shuddered at the image of Relena, Sally and Une, their faces as they burst in upon the prior steamy action. "I must protest, however. You've already claimed the role of Hermes. And I am unsuitable for playing the goddess of love." The kid fingered Zechs' luxurious tresses. "I think yer perfect for it." Merquise growled in his most masculine tones "positively not," causing his chest to rumble under Duo's cheek. "Okay. No need to get huffy." The kid sighed, the breath arousing a quiver in Merquise's flesh. "Wish I could visit Mars." "And what is preventing you from doing so?" "Money, or lack of it, for one thing. I gots to work for a living, dun I?" "Transfer to Mars service. It seems simple enough." "Hell. I'm surely purely no rocket scientist. I've only just got my GED certificate. And I practically had to pry that loose from the grip of the authorities. Those fuckers are not exactly certain I exist. D'ya know what I mean?" "Screw the authorities." This time, Merquise didn't even cringe at his crudity. "I'd rather not, 'less its a dire necessity," the kid grinned wickedly. "Duo, Mars colony is lousy with physicists and astronomers, full to capacity. We certainly don't require any more." "No?" "Assuredly not. What we do need are mechanics and pilots." "Yer do?" The kid gulped. "Who knew?" "Haven't I just been ranting and raving about rationing on Mars? The supply line is hugely unreliable, nearly nonextant. We need a dedicated provender path. Our reliance on chance flights was acceptable when we were first underway, when the population was small, and projects were still sending equipment out to us frequently. But now that we are established, with a substantial permanent populace, what we need are dedicated pilots and supply ships, into and out of L2 to Mars on a regular basis." "Um, lovely idea, that one is. Jez one small problem. I dun have a ship." "Hmm. I do. Give me a moment's pause here. Ideas are fermenting." Zechs' hand toyed down the length of braid, the sensation stimulating his imagination in a dozen directions. "Whatcha cooking?" "A way for you to keep your Preventers salary. Do you know? Its ridiculously easy to work on the government's paranoia. Perhaps you sense my drift here. If it looks like private ventures will take over on Mars, then United Earth Sphere will panic about the possibility of future attacks from the Martian base directed toward Earth. The threat of interplanetary aggression is the perfect excuse to demand Preventers' presence routinely on the supply flights from L2." "We pretty much got more deep space pilots, more by a long shot, than any other organization around, s' truth," Duo agreed. "Precisely. We must tap into that resource. You paramilitary types are just foundered and wasting away in the current pacific setting." "Une does gripe about her pilots losing their wartime edge." "Perfect," Zechs purred, and his eyes held a feral glint. "A grand scheme begins to form in my mind. In support of which, I find I really must have that party. It will be in honor of sister Relena. So that she forgives my recent neglect of her familial feelings. But we shall seize the opportunity to get the powers that be in favor of our Preventers to Mars supply line. One hundred of my dearest friends. Black tie, my my, dinner jackets and such. You do recall?" "Wasn't I supposed to turn up in just m' boxers?" Zechs growled into the kid's soft mop of hair. "Underpants at the guests' discretion. I think I shall include that engraved on the invitation." Duo chuckled drowsily. "If I promise to show up, swear ya aren't gonna feed me hors d'oeuvres?" "Perhaps a few canapes. Do you like Russian caviar? And just a few choice morsels of..." he began, before perceiving Duo had dozed off, clasped in his arms. "Black tie. Boxers optional," Zechs murmured, smiling down at the kid. ~ * ~
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