"They broke my
baby!"
---------------------------------------
“Well,” Duo said, watching the dust trail left
by the retreating Theodorian forces, “that was an
anticlimax.”
“Considering that a proper climax would have had us going
‘boom’,” Christy shrugged, “I’m fine with anticlimactic. For once.”
The
two pilots were sitting on the top deck of Henderson’s APC, leaning on its bent
main gun. The reinforcing Serpent suits were in gleeful pursuit of the
Theodorians, along with Cobra 6’s few remaining undamaged vehicles, leaving the
walking (driving?) wounded to hold their rear. Nobody expected there to be
anything they needed to hold it from, but Duo had Deathscythe’s
scanners set to alert him if anything turned up, just in case.
“I told
you Pet needed mechevac choppers,” Duo grinned, returning to an earlier
discussion.
“Yes, yes, you’re right, we’re getting them, go you,” Christy
sighed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so smug about it; I’m pretty
sure you lot never had mechevac choppers either. Did
you?”
“No--”
“Ha!”
“--but we were lone-wolfing it, figures
of terror appearing out of the darkness and vanishing again,” he continued,
waving ‘spooky fingers’ at her. “Not one of the main battle forces of a
multinational coalition with all the backup that implies. Mechevac choppers
would have been out of character.” He paused, thinking, and shrugged. “We kind
of had a mechevac ship, but Howard was a special
case.”
“Howard?”
“Cool guy with sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts,
salvage expert who showed up to pull our butts out of the fire and fix our
Gundams once in a while,” Duo told her. He sighed. “I really miss him, actually.
He kind of adopted me when I was a kid.”
“...Sunglasses and Hawaiian
shirts?” she blinked. “What in Ra’s name is a Hawaiian shirt?”
“Oh, yeah,
you guys probably don’t have Hawaii. I mean, you have Hawaii, you just call it
something else. Really bright short-sleeved shirts with flowers and stuff
printed on them, good for bumming around on the beach in. Olwyn’s wearing one,
come to think of it.”
“Oh!
Frangers.”
“Fra-what?!”
“Frangers,” Christy
shrugged. “You get them in the Franciscan Free State, mostly, though they’ve
kind of migrated to anywhere with good weather. The Franciscan Head Honcho wears
them when he’s vacationing on his private island; his favourite one has a
volcano on the back. So your Howard guy wears sunglasses and frangers? Sounds
like someone I know,” she grinned. “Does he have black hair?”
“Balding
and grey, actually,” Duo told her, eyeing her strangely. “’Frangers’.
Sheesh.”
“Don’t look at me like that, I didn't name ‘em!”
“I wish
you had! You would’ve come up with something better.”
“I generally call
them ‘hideous’, actually, so I’m fine with the current name. Oh look, your idea
has arrived.”
“Awesome!” Duo cheered, twisting around to wave at the
distant helicopter. It was immense, with two massive rotors and some complicated
lifting gear visible dangling below its belly.
“Those usually carry tanks
and shit, and they’re overspecced enough to carry them fast,” Christy told him,
standing up with a grunt and stretching with her good hand planted in the small
of her back. “I just hope it’s overspecced enough to carry my baby at
all!”
“Pet wouldn’t have sent it unless it was,” he soothed, patting her
shoulder.
“Pet believes what engineers tell him without checking their
calculations,” she muttered, then turned her head and bit his patting
hand.
“Hey!”
“Be glad I like you enough not to shoot you instead.
Now get over here and help me threaten them into putting the slings under my
baby in the right places.”
“Oh calm down. At least you have your Dyadya
to help you put Hades’s knee back together.”
“Your Dyadya now too, I
heard you calling him that. He’s going to make you stick to it.”
“Huh.”
Duo blinked. “What does that mean, anyway?”
Christy snickered. “Welcome
to the family, Duo.”
----------
Half an hour (and a lot of
swearing, threats, and two attempts by Christy to threaten people with a gun)
later, the massive heli was inching its way into the sky, engines straining as
Hades slowly lifted off the ground.
“Breathe,” Duo suggested, poking
Christy in the ribs. “If you go blue and pass out, you’ll get sand down your
boxers again, and I’m not gonna help you get it out.”
“My poor
baby,” she almost crooned, ignoring him.
“Yes, yes, poor
immense Gundanium construct,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “You can put a
band-aid on its knee and kiss it better soon, honey.”
“Like you wouldn’t
act the same way if it was your Deathscythe,” she huffed, eyes still fixed on
the heli’s burden. “You bitched just as much as me when I dinged--”
With
a long, drawn-out groan of stressed metal, the lower half of Hades’s right leg
bent at the knee, twisted, and fell off.
* * * * *
< <
Damned if I’m going to stick around here for the last of the cleanup, > >
Mel sent, studying her screen. < < Cobra 9’s got pods out to the
perimeter, the last Theo armour is over the horizon... it’s all over bar
recording the surrenders, and that part is boring. I’ll be
coming back to have that little chat with Gutierrez-- > >
“I’ll be
joining you on that,” Quatre said grimly.
< < --and you’ll be
welcome, > > she grinned coldly. < < Right now, though, I say we
head over to Cobra 6 and make sure the Twos don’t need a hand. That sound good?
> >
“Sounds just fine,” he agreed, and punched the button to give
him the base’s channel. “Cobra 9, if you’re all set we’ll be heading
off.”
< < We’re set, > > the operator sent back, sounding far
more cheerful than they had during the fight. < < Many thanks to you both
for saving our collective asses, and we’d like to know when you plan to visit us
again-- or shall we just let you know when Captain Gutierrez gets back? He’s due
tomorrow morning, if that helps. > >
< < You guys want seats
with a good view, huh? > > Mel’s grin was positively evil.
<
< Unconfirmed scuttlebutt says ringside tickets are being sold. One hundred
credits a pop. > >
< < Eight AM sounds good to me. How about
you, oh-four? > >
“Lovely, Five.”
< < Put it in your
diary then, Cobra 9. See you then! > >
* * * * *
< <
Right! > > Jay’s voice echoed from Trowa’s speakers. < < Round One
is done! Time for Round Two! Ooh, this is gonna be fun. > >
<
< Uh... not that I really want to argue with you, ma’am, but all the Theos
are dead or surrendered, > > one of the Serpent pilots commed, sounding
confused. < < Who are we fighting for Round Two? > >
<
< Oh-five! > > she said cheerfully, Gundam pointing one heat shotel at
Wufei’s mech. < < Remember, he promised to kill us all to keep his love
life secret! You Serpent dudes protect the prisoners, and oh-three and I will
tackle Handsome. I’ll grab him high, you get him low! > >
“No,
really, I’d hate to steal your fun,” Trowa replied, keeping the smile out of his
voice with an effort. “He’s all yours.”
< < Yoicks! Tally-ho! View
halloo and all that! Heads up, Justice Boy, it’s Gundam sand-wrestling time!
> > And with an immense clang, Dyscalculia tackled Nataku.
<
< Get off me, you psychotic loon! > >
< < Psychic, not
psychotic, I keep having to remind people of that... > > Loud bonging
noises announced that the blunt side of one heat shotel was being used to beat
Nataku over the head. < < Oh come on, Titanium Tush, I’m going to win on a
technicality if you don’t fight back! The judges don’t issue points just because
they like you, no matter how enthralled they are by your masculine beauty--
WAUGH! > >
*CLANG!* *THUD*
*CLANG*CLANG*CLANG*CLANG*CLANG*
Wufei had catapulted Dyscalculia over
onto its back by the simple expedient of jamming Nataku’s Dragon Fang underneath
the other Gundam’s chin and triggering its punch attack, rolled to his feet and
triggered several more rapid-fire punches at the torso.
< < Ooh,
that’s loud, > > Jay commented muzzily.
< < Yes it
is, isn’t it?! > > Wufei snarled. < < Are you done
with this idiocy? > >
< < Erm... Uncle? > > Dyscalculia
held its hands up in a sheepish-looking gesture of surrender.
“Oh-three
to Serpent commander, do you have communication up with Cobra 7?” Trowa asked,
having got his snickering under control.
< < Ah, that’s a roger,
oh-three, we’ve got a couple of personnel over by the admin building using their
suit radios to relay, > > came the choked reply. < < They say thank
you, and they should be fine from here. > >
“Good. We’ll be heading
off then; please pass that on, and thank you for your help.” Switching channels,
but leaving the video link off to hide his grin, he commed just the Gundams.
“Shall we head over to Cobra 6 to join Christy and Duo? They should have the
Theodorians properly terrorised by now.”
* * * * *
< < Well,
one thing you can say about our battlegrounds; they’re colourful! > > Dan
pointed out.
“That wasn’t exactly the adjective I was thinking of, but I
suppose you’re right,” Heero snorted. Theodorian mobile suits were painted in a
rainbow of bright colours, and the OZ Serpent suits were nearly as gaudy. The
shrapnel scattered over the dunes would have been quite pretty if it wasn’t for
the burn marks.
< < What were you thinking of? Bright? Flashy?
Picturesque? > >
“Eye-searing, or possibly psychedelic. Haven’t you
people ever heard of camouflage?”
< < Yes, but it’s unsporting to
use it on things that can move, > > Dan shrugged. < < It’s better to
encourage your enemy to shoot at things that can dodge. Besides, the bright red
ones go faster! > >
“That’s... a theory,” Heero said dryly. From
the snicker he got back over the com, Dan had noticed the complete lack of
adjective in that sentence.
< < If you two are
done, I’d like to get back to base, > > Asuka said shortly.
<
< What’s the hurry, mon cher sauvage? The climate control in Morkeleb is
better than the base’s AC, just saying. > >
< < I can get a
drink back at base. And privacy. > >
< < True, but you don’t
get to help Two traumatise Theos. We’ve run out of trauma-targets here, unless
you want to start on the Cobra personnel. > >
< < Too late,
> > somebody muttered over the local channel. < < We’re already as
scared of him as we can get. > >
“I recommend you don’t tempt him
to see if he can do better,” Heero advised them. “Are you clear to get back to
your previous base site?”
< < Ah, yes sir, the Serpents are going
to come along to provide additional cover until we can rebuild the perimeter,
> > Cobra 8’s operator said quickly. < < We’d hate to delay you any
further. > >
“In that case, I’m heading to Cobra 6’s current
location,” Heero informed them. “One, Three, if you want to come along you’ll be
welcome; if not, I’ll see you back at base.”
< < Hn. I might as
well go see what Two’s broken now. > >
< < Are you expecting
her to have broken herself, the Theos, or the landscape? > >
<
< Yes. > >
< < Then I’ll tag along as well, > > Dan
said happily. < < Whither mon cher sauvage goeth, thither goeth I, just in
case I can persuade him to come skinny-dipping in a convenient oasis or
something. > >
* * * * *
The converging parties arrived on
scene in time to see Hades being airlifted away (minus one appendage), a group
of Cobra personnel examining the dropped leg to find out if it would fit in the
main bay of the APC parked nearby (with an artistically bent main gun), and Duo
sitting on Christy, using both hands to keep her good arm -- and the gun she was
firing -- pointed straight up.
“Let go, Mort! I’ll kill the
bastards!”
“It’s not their fault!”
“Yes it is! They dismembered my
Hades!”
“It’s the Theo’s fault for shooting him in the knee! They’re
trying to help!”
“Well they’re not managing it! Let go! I’ll shoot their
rotors off!”
“Christy, if you actually manage to shoot that helicopter
down with a 9-mil -- not that I’m saying you can’t manage it, understand --
first it’ll drop Hades, and then it will crash on top of him!
Now calm down before I have to dislocate your shoulder and get Dot pissed off at
the both of us!”
“Like you could manage-- OW!”
“Don’t make me
twist it that last inch, babe.”
“That’s it, you’re out of the
will!”
“I didn’t know you had a will, Christy,” Mel said, strolling over.
“Apart from that one you scribbled in crayon when you were drunk, leaving all
your guns to Pet.”
“Mel! Shoot down that damn helicopter! They broke my
baby!”
“Ah... no. No, I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” she
mused.
“Mel, if you could disarm her please, I would really appreciate
it,” Duo rasped through gritted teeth.
“Strong, isn’t she?” Mel grinned,
reached over, and popped the clip out of Christy’s gun. “Yank her trigger
finger.”
*BANG!*
“There you go, she’s out of bullets. Good
enough?”
“Only if you know where she keeps her spare clips. And the
second gun I know she’s got,” Duo panted. “Heero! Give me a
hand here! You’re probably the best one to frisk her, I haven’t found your
backup piece yet...”
“Heero! ‘Fei! Get your boy toy off me so I can shoot
that damn heli down! Mel won’t do it for me!” Christy howled. “They
broke my baby!”
“It’s out of range,”
Wufei pointed out calmly, and Duo heaved a sigh of relief.
“Now I just
need to keep her out of everybody else’s Gundams until it’s out of rocket range,
too,” he muttered, eyeing the growing crowd of looming mecha. “Hi guys, did you
have fun too?”
“Apart from when Dan kept trying to give me relationship
advice, yes,” Heero grunted, bending down to pat Christy over. “’Scuse
me.”
“C’mon, Heero, be a pal,” Christy begged. “Be a buddy. Get in Wing
and shoot it down with your big bangy thing-- oh gods, I’m channelling Jay
again. See? See?! I’ve been traumatised! I won’t get closure until I have
wreckage to dance on top of!”
“Duo’s right,” Heero shrugged, pulling a
small holdout gun out of the back of her shirt. “You’d just get re-traumatised
when it dropped your ‘baby’ and blew up on top of it.”
“How many holsters
do you have, anyway?” Duo asked, eyeing the growing collection
of weapons Heero was gathering.
“Enough to find a gun and shoot you with
it if you don’t let me up now, you traitor!”
“Mel, you finish frisking
her,” Heero requested, walking a few steps away with his armful of blades and
guns. “There are two potential hiding places left, and I’m not sticking my hand
in either of them.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure you got them all,” Mel said
cheerfully. “She doesn’t hide weapons in her cleavage or down the front of her
pants unless she’s going on a stealth mission. It’s too easy to get rattled
around in your Gundam and accidentally shoot off a boob
otherwise.”
“Christy, hon? I’m going to let you up now,” Duo said gently.
“No hitting!”
“Oh, I won’t hit you,” she hissed, getting to her hands and
knees and glaring venomously in his direction. “Just don’t even
think of sleeping tonight-- ooo. Sand.”
“I warned you,”
Duo sing-songed under his breath as he scuttled behind Heero. “Okay, if you’re
waiting until I’m asleep to smother me or whatever, I guess it’s safe for me to
offer you a ride back to base?”
“I’m riding with Henderson!” she yelled
back over her shoulder as she stalked towards the APC. “He loves me! He woulda
shot it down for me if I hadn’t bent his gun!”
“Ayup,” the sergeant
drawled, waving her in to sit in the main bay. “I know my place. Missy, the leg
won’t fit, so we’re gonna be dragging it. You okay with that?”
“I guess,”
she sulked.
“It’ll be all right, missy,” he said soothingly, patting her
on the head as she stomped past him. “You’ll get it fixed good as new. I hear
Nathan’s due, he’ll help.”
“Did you see that?” Duo asked Mel. “How come
he can pat her on the head without getting bitten?”
“Beats me,” she
shrugged, blinking. “I’m as surprised as you are. Jay? Did you know she had a
pet sergeant?”
Pause.
“Yo! Jay? You in there?”
< <
Er. Um. Oh, sorry, I wasn’t listening, > > Jay’s voice came from
Dyscalculia’s external speakers. < < I say, mister Extreme Eyelashes, did
you know you seem to have locked me in here? > >
“Serves you
right,” Wufei snorted, smirking.
“...Jay, what did you do?” Mel asked,
eyeing the dents in Dyscalculia’s chest. “Are you saying your door is
jammed?”
< < I believe that’s what I was getting at, wot, > >
the Vaterean pilot chirped. < < Wufei threatened to kill us all, so I
tackled him to protect the Cobra personnel. Honest! > >
“Amazing as
it may sound, that statement could be considered to be broadly true,” Trowa
confirmed, snickering. “In the process, Jay discovered that Gundam
sand-wrestling is never going to be a lucrative spectator sport.”
<
< Oh I don’t know, old chap, there are mech fetishists out there. >
>
“Yes, but the repair bills for dented Gundanium would take up all
the ticket revenue.”
< < Bugger, you’re right. Trust you to point
out the flaws in my plan. Oh well, I’ll have to go with hidden cameras in the
hangar to catch the next explosion of hormones instead. >
>
“Trowa?” Quatre said politely, unable to suppress a grin. “Please
tell me you recorded all this?”
“Full vision and sound.”
“Oh good.
I’ll make popcorn when we get back.”
“Movie night!” Duo cheered, managing
a sort of limping bounce towards Deathscythe. “Jay, we’ll retransmit to you if
you haven’t managed to get out of Dyscalculia by the time we start. I’m sure we
all have good bits to share!”
* * * * *
“Where’s Christy?” Duo
asked, looking around carefully as he settled onto the couch between Heero and
Wufei.
“Camping out in the hangar next to Hades,” Mel told him, passing
the popcorn.
“She’s not coming to watch? Maybe I should take her some
snacks...”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Mel grinned. “She has a tent, inflatable
mattress, sleeping bag, new cast, campfire -- that she had to
buy the wood for, but she said she wanted it authentic --
marshmallows, chocolate, sweet crackers, you name it. She’s making s’mores. Oh,
and she has jaegerbombs, but I haven’t told her that Dot switched them out for
non-alcoholic versions. I’m fairly sure that one of the marshmallows has
sleeping pills hidden in it, so you can probably sleep safely even though she’s
still pissed you wouldn’t let her shoot down the mechevac chopper.”
“Is
she ever going to actually realise that I saved her ‘baby’ from worse damage by
doing that?!” Duo protested.
“Eh, she just doesn’t want to admit it yet,”
the tall girl shrugged. “She’ll calm down soon enough. It was the
shock.”
“Does she behave like that every time something falls off her
Gundam?” Heero asked curiously.
“I think this is the first time it’s
happened, actually! Scratches, dents, breakdowns, she throws a hissy and then
fixes it. Loss of major appendages? She hasn’t had to deal with that
before.”
< < I say, old chaps, could you save some popcorn for me?
> > Jay’s voice came plaintively from the radio. < < I think I’m
going to be in here for a while, what. H is talking about cutting the door, and
you know how long that takes. > >
“Why don’t you just blow the
bolts?” Asuka suggested boredly.
< < Oh I say, I didn’t think of
that! Probably because I’m not the self-destructy type. Christy would have done
it ten seconds after discovering the dent had jammed the door. >
>
“Blowing the bolts, or self-destructing?” Trowa asked.
<
< Bolts. Probably. And then she would have gone after the Titanium Tush for
making her ding Hades more than it was already, > > Jay
decided.
Asuka rolled his eyes. “So are you blowing the door or not? If
we don’t start the movies soon, I’m going to the officers’ mess.”
<
< Well I would, don’t’cherknow, but I’ve got half a dozen technicians on
scaffolding here, and they’re kind of in the way. Oh well. > >
“So
tell them to get out of the way. Or don’t. The explosives work even if they’re
still there.”
< < Terribly sorry, Asuka old bean, but I’m not as
casually murderous as you are. Oh! Speaking of you and casual, do you suppose
you could induct the Han Hero into your less-is-more clothing philosophy
somehow? I’d pay you! Fifty credits for every article of clothing you get him to
take off, wot! Bonus of a hundred and fifty if we get tush. >
>
Wufei opened his mouth, closed it again, considered for a moment...
then smirked. “Jay?”
< < Er... yes? You sound awfully smug all of a
sudden, did you know that? > >
“You do realise you can’t
see me right now, don’t you?” he purred.
“Wahou!” Dan
cheered, flinging himself into a convenient chair and grabbing his own popcorn.
“Free show!”
< < Oh I say, not fair! Not fair, chaps! Somebody get
a camera! > >
Leaning in close to the microphone, Wufei tugged the
fabric of his shirt taut with one hand, popping buttons one by one with the
other, then stripped it off and rustled the fabric loudly. “You owe Asuka
fifty,” he grinned.
< < I do not! That’s only if he makes you take
it off! You did that all by yourself! Rat bastards, all of you! >
>
“Do the pants next,” Asuka ordered
flatly.
“Okay.”
“Hundred-fifty, Jay -- no, two hundred, fifty base
for the pants plus tush bonus. I want it tomorrow or I’ll be hunting you
down.”
< < Noooo~! No fair! > >
----------
“I
can’t believe you actually did it,” Duo snickered, hopping into the room and
flopping onto his enlarged bed.
“I’m going to see if Asuka will give me
some of that cash,” Wufei grinned, following him in. “Is your leg bothering
you?”
“Eh, only a bit. I checked earlier, I haven’t popped any stitches
this time.”
“Good,” Heero said emphatically. “After the way she reacted
when Christy turned out to need a new cast, I’m pretty sure Dot would have
locked you in the infirmary or something.”
“Nah, then she’d have to put
up with me. She would’ve used my ass as a dartboard or something, though. And
speaking of asses, yours is awesome, ‘Fei.”
Wufei
groaned. “I don’t mind you and Heero appreciating it at all, Duo, but it’s not
free-range. Tonight notwithstanding, I’d rather not share it with the
world.”
“Oh, so it’s our private ass, is it?” Heero
purred, sidling up behind him and copping a feel. “Good. We don't want to
share.” Nuzzling into the side of Wufei’s neck, he took an experimental nip.
“Hmm?”
“Guys, coming in!” Mel’s voice yelled from the hall. “’Scuse me, I
need to fetch something. You decent, or is Wufei showing tush
again?”
Suddenly two steps away from Heero and blushing furiously, Wufei
grimaced. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I? Come in!”
“Eh,
don’t let it bother you, ‘Fei,” Mel said cheerfully, opening the door and making
a beeline for the closet. “We only tease you because we love you, and I for one
will mainly be making the jokes at Jay’s expense, I promise. Besides,” she
grinned, “I got my eyeful, I’m happy.” Yanking the closet open, she scanned the
ranks of plushy toys and grabbed Anubis.
“You taking that to Christy?”
Duo asked, comfortably sprawled.
“Yeah, I figure Dot’s sneaky sleeping
pills will have hit by now, so I’ll make sure she’s tucked in and stuff. Sleep
well!”
The three of them looked at each other as the door slammed behind
her.
“...In other words,” Heero said, a slow grin spreading over his
face, “we’ve got this room to ourselves for the night. Hn. Where were
we?”
* * * * *
Quatre fought his way out from under Trowa’s arm
and a tangle of blankets as his watch alarm buzzed, slapping it off and yawning
hugely. “Hm. Coffee,” he muttered blearily, peering at the
display.
“Quatre?” Trowa emerged from the blankets beside him, rubbing
his eyes. “Why the alarm? I didn’t think we had anything scheduled
today.”
“We in general don’t,” Quatre told him, stretching. “Mel and I
have a date with somebody who needs an attitude adjustment.”
“Sounds like
fun.”
“Scuttlebutt has ringside seats going for a hundred credits each.
I’ll bring back video and we can have another movie night,” his lover grinned,
then yawned again. “Argh. Coffee!”
“Enjoy,” Trowa told
him, and resubmerged. “Don’t trip over Christy’s tent ropes in the
hangar.”
When Mel and Quatre got there, both carrying cardboard takeaway
cups, there were two tents. Hades and Dyscalculia were both in the repair bays,
surrounded in scaffolding and equipment, some of which had guy ropes tied to it
-- presumably because the concrete floor wouldn’t take tent pegs.
“Huh.
That’s new,” Mel commented, skirting the burnt-out remains of a campfire. “There
was only one tent here when I tucked Christy in.”
“That’s because you lot
are a bunch of dirty rotten stopouts,” a muffled voice complained, and then
Jay’s tousled head poked out of the second tent’s flap to glare at them.
“Meanies. Depriving me of any chance of tush photos. I bet the Han Hero will
never strip again!”
“It’s a lovely tush,” Mel told her.
“Don’t you think he has a lovely tush, Quatre?”
“Yes Mel, it is quite
nice. I have a personal preference for Trowa’s, but Wufei’s is very
aesthetically pleasing,” Quatre agreed, hiding his grin behind his
coffee.
“I hate you all,” Jay pouted, retreating back into the
tent.
-----------------------
End of Warped
Mirrors
Chapter 21
-----------------------
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