“How are your ‘specialists’ doing?” Treize asked Zechs.

“Construction on the first Gundam is a little under halfway done,” Zechs said. “They haven’t started the second one yet.”

Treize grimaced. “It’s going too slowly.”

“Well, they are building Gundams,” Zechs said.

“With the help of the entirety of OZ,” Treize pointed out.

Zechs shrugged. “I’ll tell them to hurry up.”

“Having two Gundam pilots does us no good if we have no Gundams,” Treize replied. “If you don’t get me two Gundams soon, I’ll take yours back.”

Zechs rolled his eyes. “And here I thought you objected to the way I’d gotten you the Gundam pilots.”

“I do,” Treize said. “But I’m not going to waste the opportunity.”

“I suppose,” Zechs said. “Besides, a Gundam pilot in a regular mobile suit can still do a lot of damage.”

Treize nodded. “I know.”

“But with Tsuberov making the mobile dolls, soon we probably won’t even need pilots,” Zechs added.

Treize restrained himself from making a comment. “I know.”

Zechs raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like them, do you.”

“No,” Treize answered shortly. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“The fact that whenever I bring them up, you scowl,” Zechs said. “Besides, I don’t like them either.”

“Great minds think alike,” Treize said dryly.

Zechs shrugged. “Tsuberov’s set on making them, so why bother worrying about it?”

“Tsuberov needs some morals artificially instilled into him,” Treize said with a sigh. “Oh, Une, nice of you to join us.”

“Are you complaining about Tsuberov again?” Une asked, putting a pile of paperwork on the desk in front of him.

“If I let you shoot him, will you stop bringing paperwork?” Treize asked.

Une smiled. “No, Treize-sama. Though it’s a tempting offer.”

“What is this, anyway?” Treize asked, picking up the pile.

“It’s the report from the Gundam boys’ mobile suit instructor.”

“Well, this ought to be entertaining reading,” Treize said with a sigh. “Whose class did they end up in, anyway?”

“Noin’s,” Une said.

“I thought she was still at Lake Victoria,” Treize said with a frown.

“She was transferred back here,” Une said.

Treize raised an eyebrow. “Zechs, I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this?”

Zechs blinked. “No. I didn’t.”

“I had it done,” Une interrupted. “I figured you would want the best instructor for the best students.”

“Good point,” Treize said. He smirked and added, “Zechs, you should go pay a visit.”

“Perhaps I will,” Zechs said.

****

Treize-sama, forgive me for speaking so frankly, but what the hell are those two kids doing in my class? Besides making fools out of my other students, that is? I get the feeling that I’m missing something big here. For the first five minutes of class they seemed like complete beginners, but after that something seemed to click and they started to annhilate everything I threw at them. In record time, I might add. Though they may yet benefit from some private training, there’s no point to having them in my class. Please advise.

Lucrezia Noin

****

Rigel was both pleased and displeased when the teacher announced there was going to be a test. They had only started class two days ago, but the rest of the class had over a week’s worth of material done. “Li, Taylor, you’ll have to get the notes from somebody,” the instructor said.

They both nodded. Rigel waited until the end of class and walked over to Trowa. “Ne, Trowa . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Want to get together and study for the test?”

Xiaolong walked over and raised an eyebrow. “Study?”

Rigel pinched him and hissed, “Shut up.”

“Whatever, Rigel,” Xiaolong said, walking off.

“So, um . . .” Rigel tried not to turn pink.

“Sure,” Trowa said. “That sounds great.” He paused. “Do you want to meet in the library?”

Rigel scuffed his foot on the floor and looked faintly disappointed. “Sure, I guess.”

“Or,” Trowa added with a slight smile, “I have a single room.”

“You do?” Rigel asked, then blushed and looked down. “Uhm.”

“Just meet me after dinner,” Trowa said with a smile. “Aren’t you going to be late for class?”

“Nah, we tested out.”

“How do you test out of hand-to-hand combat?” Trowa asked curiously.

“We accidentally beat all the best students and then the instructor said he wouldn’t go against us because he was afraid we’d win.” Rigel looked embarrassed. “Who knew?”

Trowa laughed. Besides me, you mean? “Congratulations.”

Rigel shrugged.

“Did you find your violin?”

“It’s among the missing, I’m afraid. Treize said he’d get me a new one.”

Trowa raised an eyebrow. “You know him personally?”

“Well, sort of.” Rigel looked embarrassed again. “I guess me and Xiaolong are kind of among the OZ elite. Not that I remember this. But we’re the best pilots they have or something. I don’t want to sound conceited or anything . . . I’m just repeating what Treize told us. We tested out of the mobile suit class, too.” He took on an innocent expression. “Who knew?”

Trowa just shook his head.

“Anyway, we were in mid-transfer when we got injured, so when we settled here, Treize came to check in on us. He seems like a really nice guy. And Une took us shopping. And dug around for hours trying to find Chinese philosophy for Xiaolong. She’s really great, except on her bad days.” Rigel frowned. “I think she winds her hair a little too tight sometimes.”

Trowa frowned. “You mean Une as in Treize-sama’s personal assisstant? Colonel Une?”

“She’s a colonel?” Rigel looked surprised. “Funny, never would’ve guessed.”

“Why not?”

“She’s just so nice . . . and friendly . . .”

“I think you and I know a different Une,” Trowa said.

“Why?”

“She has a reputation as a holy terror.”

“Really?” Rigel’s eyes widened. “Lady Une?”

“Who knew?” Trowa asked.

Rigel laughed. “Touche. Don’t you have class?”

“I have a free hour. So you don’t have mobile suit class anymore?”

“Not really. Lieutenant Noin said she’d keep giving us some personal training, but all we were doing in class was making the others look silly.”

“Oh. Well, do you want to have lunch?”

“Sure,” Rigel said with a smile.

****

To: 01@colony.net 02@colony.net

From: 03@colony.net

Re: Information

Attachment: Masiello

I’m ninety-nine percent certain that this information is accurate. I’ll leave it up to you whether or not you want to attack. However, we have a problem. Aren’t the colonies in peaceful negotiation with OZ? I’m not sure they’d be pleased if we started attacking OZ again.

I’m making progress with Quatre. Unfortunately, Treize seems to have adopted the both of them as his favorite nephews. They seem to really like him. I’m puzzled.

Trowa

****

Rigel shuffled nervously from foot to foot and finally knocked on the door after about thirty seconds of nervous hesitation. I really shouldn’t be so nervous, he reminded himself. He knew he was already blushing, which didn’t bode well, then the door opened. “Hi,” Trowa said. He didn’t look nervous at all.

“Um, hi,” Rigel said, with an idiotic grin. He had his physics books tucked under his arm.

“Come on in,” Trowa said, opening the door the rest of the way and stepping back.

Rigel went in, putting his books on the desk just inside the door. The room was smaller than his and Xiaolong’s. There were very few decorations, except for a few posters of, of all things, a circus. There was an especially nice one of a brown-haired girl on a trapeze. “Those are nice,” Rigel said.

“Thanks,” Trowa said, and didn’t volunteer any information.

Rigel coughed nervously. Why am I so nervous, damn it? “So, um, what chapters is the test on?”

“One through three,” Trowa answered. “Should we study?” A very faint smirk was on his face.

“If we must,” Rigel replied. “Hey, is that your flute?” He walked to the other end of the desk, where a black case was sitting.

“Yeah,” Trowa answered.

“You should play something!” Rigel answered, looking at him entreatingly.

“Maybe later,” Trowa said.

“Well, I guess we should study then,” Rigel said. He looked around. “Um, do you have a second chair?”

Trowa shook his head. “Singles only have one chair.”

“That must be inconvenient.”

“Not really. I don’t have company often.”

“Oh.” Rigel took his books and sat on the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, Trowa walked over and sat down next to him. Rigel blushed and immediately began to riffle through his notes. “So, I came in halfway through chapter three . . .”

They managed to actually study for about fifteen minutes. After that, Rigel was sure he knew everything that had been in all three chapters. “So, um, now what?” he asked.

Trowa eyed him contemplatively.

Rigel blushed and looked away.

Trowa peered over at him, leaning toward him, trying to see Rigel’s face. “Rigel?”

Rigel turned his head a little too quickly, and suddenly found his face inches away from Trowa’s. Both of them blinked at the sudden closeness, then Trowa leaned forward and brushed his lips over Rigel’s. Rigel gasped a little and started to pull away, then apparently changed his mind and kissed back.

There was a knock on the door. They both ignored it. Trowa put an arm around Rigel’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

Xiaolong chose that moment to open the door. “Rigel? I - never mind.”

How bad can our luck be? Trowa wondered, amused. Our first kiss has been interrupted twice now. At least Wufei won’t announce it the way Duo did.

Rigel blushed and pulled away. “What?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Just go back to what you were doing.” Xiaolong hastily backed out of the room and shut the door.

Rigel shrugged. “Okay,” he called after Xiaolong, and did what the Chinese boy had suggested.

****

So, I know that's really sweet and all, but me and Karasu are trying to write, not just a kissing scene, but a *yaoi* kissing scene, when my potential-might-be-hopefully-may-be-soon-new boyfriend knocks on my door. And we're trying to shoo him away. Now you tell me, how do you explain to your potential next date that you're writing yaoi kissing scenes?? Good thing it wasn't a lemon. ::sighs::

****

Duo flopped down on the bed. “Man, that felt good.”

“Hn,” Heero replied, sitting down at his computer to record the mission. “You took too many risks.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Duo protested. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“It’s doing battle with my sense of self-preservation, and losing,” Heero retorted.

Duo wrinkled his nose. “Man, Heero, you just don’t know how to have a good time. You can’t kill Shinigami, after all.”

Heero raised an eyebrow. “Duo. You are not indestructible.”

“How do you know?” Duo asked with a manic grin.

“You sound like you believe that,” Heero replied.

Duo just continued to grin.

Heero pondered whether or not he could make any progress with Duo in his current state of mind. Eventually he decided he couldn’t and turned back to his computer. What is that idiot’s problem, anyway?

Duo smirked. “I . . . am gonna go get caffeine,” he announced.

Heero let his head thud against the desk.

****

Duo, though he’s hyperactive enough to send a five-year-old with ADHD into shock, is not unobservant. It takes him approximately six minutes to notice that I’m somewhat out of sorts, bounce over, and ask what’s wrong.

“Hn. Nothing.”

That throws him off track for about point two seconds. Then he drapes his arms over my shoulders, ignores my flinch, and whines. “Awww, c’mon, tell me . . . it’s okay, we’re roomies!”

I tell him, quite coldly, to get off me.

“Sure, Heero.” He can’t hide the hurt look in his eyes, and I feel like a total jerk. He gets up, then walks over to his bed and flops down. This lasts for about another three seconds before he’s up and moving again. He’s had about four cups of coffee, which probably accounts for it. I wonder if he’s let it go. Probably not, but I can hope, right?

Nope. “So, really, what’s wrong?”

I don’t even dignify that with a reply.

“Lemme see . . .”

Please don’t guess.

“Girl troubles?” He grins manically.

I can think of no other response than to pick up the nearest book and throw it at him. Then I wonder vaguely if ‘girl trouble’ includes ‘Duo trouble.’ His hair’s long enough. But that’s not the point, as it’s not what’s bothering me anyway. Right now, that is.

“Okay, not girl trouble.” Duo dodged the book with relative ease. Impressive, given the speed at which I threw it. “Is it . . . school trouble?”

I just roll my eyes. There aren’t any more books nearby.

“Gundam trouble?”

Fortunately, I manage not to flinch.

“Come on, tell me!!! And why are you typing again?!”

“That really bothers you, doesn’t it.”

“More like it puzzles me. Don’t know why you bother.” Duo shrugs. “Now don’t change the subject.”

Damn it.

“What’s the problem?” Duo folds his legs into lotus position and attempts to look wise. “Come on, tell good old Duo about it . . .”

“Duo, must you persist in antagonizing me?”

“Yes.”

Trust him to be honest. Duo Maxwell, he runs, he hides, but he never lies. “Fine. I’ll tell you what my problem is when you tell me what yours has been for the past two weeks.”

Duo gives this due thought. I know he must really want to know what’s wrong, since he’s actually pondering explaining. “Don’t know, really,” he finally says.

“Oh well, then.”

“That’s not fair! I actually tried to think of an answer!”

“Not my problem.”

Now he’s pouting. While he’s doing that, I’ll explain what my problem actually is. Something seems to be wrong with my new Gundam. While I think it may just be the ‘advanced guidance system’ Quatre was talking about, I’ll admit - in here, though nowhere else - that it disturbed me. I think I may dismantle it. It’s almost . . . too accurate. I think I may grow used to it in time, but for now, if I’m allowed to steal one of Duo’s phrases, it gave me the heebie jeebies.

“Sure it’s not girl problems?” Duo finally asks.

And that’s another thing. If ‘girl problems’ include ‘Duo problems’, then I’m having a hell of a girl problem. It’s not my fault that he’s so damned good-looking, and has no modesty whatsoever and walks around in a towel half the time. He grows on you. Like fungus. Besides, I’m fifteen. I have hormones. Even the Perfect fucking Soldier has hormones! It’s not that I’ve never been interested in girls. Or that I’m not. I think Relena’s turned me off women forever. Duo has the best of all worlds: tough as hell, knows what’s going on, travels with me, is fucking beautiful, has that hair . . .

Then again, he also has mood swings like a girl. This is somewhat less desirable.

Hm. Duo’s walking over and I think he’s going to attempt to see what I’m typing. In the interest of not getting killed or having to kill him, this is going to be all for tonight.

****

Sheesh. You’d think after a month that I’d have had some sort of civilizing influence on that stone-faced maniac. But noooooo, he still has to sit there typing every word I say and refusing to tell me anything. I’d pout, but I think that might make my hair fall out. God forbid, right? So anyway, I’m sitting here wondering if Heero actually has ‘girl problems.’ Mostly because he’s left me with nothing else to wonder about. If he has girl problems, I may have to hunt down the offending woman and kill her. Then again, Relena might have turned him off women altogether. She certainly would’ve done it to me if she’d started stalking me. Come to think of it, the Pope would probably turn Jewish if it would get Relena Peacecraft off his back.

Right, so, then I have to wonder if Heero has any preferences at all. Let’s see . . . the laws of probabilty are against me here. Last time I checked, the majority of the population was straight. Quatre and Trowa have their little thing going, or at least they did before Quatre got shanghaied by White Fang - which I’m still pissed about, by the way. Trowa, I don’t know, for him it might be availability plus affection. I don’t think he’s gay or straight; I think he likes Quatre. Quatre, I dunno, something about him just sets off my gaydar. (Heh . . . didn’t coin that term. Have to give credit where it’s due.) Wufei’s straight, probably because of that ruler up his ass. And then there’s me. I’ll go for anything on two legs, as long as it’s cute. Being bi doubles your chances of getting a date on a Saturday night.

Which brings me back, oddly enough, to Heero. Circular, in a nauseating sort of way.

His reaction would probably be “Sex life? What’s that? Something you download?”

Feh. (That was supposed to be a disgusting noise. Somehow they just don’t translate to computer screen.)

So anyway! How am I going to go about figuring out whether or not I’ve got a chance when he can’t even pry his mouth open long enough to say anything, let alone volunteer personal information like that. I don’t think it’s fair! I honestly don’t know what my problem was. I was just in a pissy mood, that’s all!

Damn. Heero has tired of glaring at me and has gone to take a shower. Must not think bad thoughts. Must not think bad thoughts . . . down, libido, down!!

Moving on. I wonder if Heero passcodes his journal . . . be right back.

Damn the little bastard. And now he’ll probably be able to tell that I messed with it and kick my ass. Well, I think I put everything back in order. If I’m lucky he’ll go right to bed and won’t look at his laptop (yeah right) and then won’t remember how it was in the morning.

He’s back. I’m not looking. Not looking. Oh God, he’s changing. Eyes glued to computer screen . . . I’m not fooling you, am I? If I turn the screen like this, I can watch his reflection . . .

*Beeeeeeep* Duo is unable to come to his brain right now. If you’ll leave a message, he’ll get back to you when Heero is fully dressed.

asdfasdfasdfasdfjkl;jkl;jkl;

Ha. He didn’t notice I was typing gibberish. What was I saying? He’s going to bed. Good. I’m gonna go take a shower. A cold shower. A long cold shower.

****

So, in the interest of giving credit.... my friend Saishi is where I heard the term 'gaydar', and my brother is the person who originally said the thing about downloading sex life. -.-;;;

****

“Well?”

Rigel attempted to look innocent. “Well what?”

Xiaolong cleared his throat and looked up from where he was reading his Chinese philosophy. “Did you . . . study?”

Rigel glared at him and dumped his books on the table. “I’ll have you know we did study, thank you. For a full fifteen minutes.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all we needed. I knew it all already. So did you.”

“You studied for fifteen minutes.”

“We’ve already established this.”

“You were gone for three hours, forty minutes.”

“Really?” Rigel looked innocent. “Was it that long?”

“Yes.”

“He’s a better kisser than I thought . . .” Rigel floated (there wasn’t a better word for it) over to his bed and flopped down.

Xiaolong rolled his eyes. “When your brain has resolidified from the mush that it currently is, let me know.”

“’Kay,” Rigel said.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Xiaolong said after a minute. “What were you doing that whole time?”

“Talking,” Rigel said defensively. “And . . . kissing . . . and . . .”

“Okay, wait, that’s enough,” Xiaolong said. He paused. “You didn’t, did you?”

Rigel threw a pillow at him. “Of course not!” He glared at the Chinese boy. “Not to say it won’t ever happen, but . . . I just met him!”

“Just checking.”

Rigel stuck his tongue out. “It was none of your business, you know.”

“So?”

Rigel opened his mouth to reply, then realized there was really no way to refute that statement. “So. You shouldn’t have asked.”

“You knew I would. And if you cared, you wouldn’t have been gone so long.”

Rigel paused. He had to admit that his roommate was right. “Yeah well . . . shut up.”

“Whatever you say.”

****

Feedback? Onegai? We worked *really* hard on this part, and I had to walk home across campus at two am and this psycho cat was following me while drunken frat boys bellowed... ::sniffles:: I'm traumatized, but some feedback might help... progressive therapy!! ::runs off::

Part Thirteen
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