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Trouble |
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Part Eight |
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Highjinks Arc: Antics |
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by Liewe |
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Rated R for language and sexual situations! <><><><><><><><> She chuckled at Duo’s wolf whistle. Maybe her musings were right she thought with a grin. "Snazzy. Very snazzy." "You think so?" It seemed they were she thought with satisfaction. "Oh yes. Babe you look like sex on a stick." Duo said as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh really?" "Oh yes, I never thought that uniform would look that sexy on anyone but me," he quipped, puffing out his chest. She chuckled, twisting and turning in front of the full length mirror to examine her reflection. "I suppose I do look hot." “More than hot. Definitely more than hot.” He said with laughter in his eyes as he pulled her into his arms for a quick hug. Smiling as she leaned into him, both reveling in the small intimacies that had opened up to them since the change in their arrangement. Glad for the human contact. “Gorgeous then?” He smiled at her hopeful voice, looking in the mirror at her reflection. Taking a deep breath as he saw the picture they made. Eyes almost matching in color, skin the same pale gold. They were a pair, he decided. Two sides of the same coin. Light and dark. "Understatement of the year. You are beyond gorgeous." He responded softly, kissing the top of her head as he watched her reaction. "Be quiet you. You'll give me a big head if you continue on like that," she said as she ducked her head, a tell tale blush coming to her cheeks. The innocence of the gesture surprised him. "How come you can get me to blush, when I haven't blushed in years?" She asked softly in wonderment, her voice sounding like the child she would have been if the war hadn’t intruded. "Practice." The mood lifted at his laughed reply. "You haven't known me long enough." She whispered softly moving back to melancholy. "You my dear are easy to get to know." He quipped, a last ditch effort to bring levity back to the situation. "Show's what you know," she responded softly and he smirked, preening as he watched her. Another successful mission, the laughter was back, the sadness pushed back for another day. Silently he congratulated himself. "I will have you know that I'm an excellent judge of character." She shook her head in smiling resignation at his smirk before waving the tailor over. "I think this is just about a perfect fit. Just a few small adjustments wouldn't you say?" She queried the elderly man, smiling as he tutted at her. His old tape measure whipping about her frame and pins impaling in the fabric. "Yes, that shall do. It will be done in three days Ms. Une." "Thank you Monsieur." <><><><><><> Flamel, Flamingo, Fortitude, Flaming, Oxymoron, Idiotic, Tunnel of Love, Milk. There was one thing that Lady Une had been right about the filing room certainly needed a new system. She had forgotten to mention the idiotic names some of the files had been named. "Ami! Dammit, aren't you meant to keep this organized?" He growled at the new recruit sitting behind the filing room’s only desk. "Yes, but I'm not a miracle worker, and I have only been on the job for a few months. It was a mess when I arrived," she snapped back. She had gotten over the urge to ogle his but and put up with his temper hours ago. "And I do ask people to put things in the appropriate places and name them appropriately but no one LISTENS TO ME!" Her voice rising in volume as she spoke. She was almost quivering with rage at his attitude. "Oh yes of course, I can see the evidence of your attempts." He snarled. "Barton," a voice called from the doorway and he stopped, turning towards the newcomer. "Yes Wufei?" "We're having a meeting," he said before turning on his heel and walking in the direction of the conference rooms obviously expecting Trowa to follow. "A meeting?" Trowa called out to his comrades retreating back. "Yes, and you're late." "Goodbye Agent Barton, I'll hold down the fort while you're gone," Ami said softly, grinning at her good fortune as the hung-over Preventer left. She listened intently for his footsteps to fade from the corridor before moving to her com-unit. "I have pictures," she said gleefully as the bleary face of the Mod appeared on the screen. "Pictures?" "Yes of our mutual obsession. I'll sell them to you." "How many? Quality? Cost?" "Several, close-ups from a digital camera of I have rigged in here. 50 credits a piece." "A sample please?" "Of course," the unit groaned as she plugged in the digital camera her fingers rapidly selecting her favorite picture of the morning to send along. "There are 24 more similar to it, and a bunch of others." "I'll buy 10 for now; I need to talk to the Owner before purchasing anymore." "Of course, it was a pleasure doing business with you." She leaned back in her chair as the connection cut, a self-satisfied grin on her face. <><><><><><><><> Trowa stopped short in the doorway. "Is there a reason that the meeting only includes you three and myself?" He asked. "Yes, there is. I would like to know what's gotten into you. Bar fights? Manhandling a woman? Drunkenness? Beating up Duo? Trowa he's your friend!" He turned away from Quatre's pleading eyes, his back ramrod straight. "I don't know. It's that woman. She's done something to me. One second she's coming on to me and then the next she's hanging all over Duo and he's encouraging her!" "Well with your behavior she might have given up on you and decided that Duo was a much better candidate. In her position I would have done the same thing. You've been nothing but cruel and standoffish to her since she stepped off that plane!" "Dammit I can't help it! I knew her in the war, and she betrayed me!" His voice broke as the memories assaulted him. The screams, the pain, the Alliance ripping up their lines. "Trowa, this is out of character for you." Quatre softened as he saw the obvious pain his friend was in. "I know, I know. But she brings it all back, seeing her brings it all back." His voice was ragged as his shoulders hunched and he strove to regain a semblance of control. "If a woman can get to you like this then you are weak," Wufei cut in, his voice drowning out Quatre's gentle reply. "Get yourself together and act in a manner befitting your station." "You try dealing with her then, if you think it's so easy." "Of course it will be easy; I don't have a history with this woman. And I am a warrior and a man. One mere woman would not be able to do this to me. I am stronger than that." "Then deal with her. Prove that you're stronger than me, prove it." Quatre and Heero watched the exchange between the normally silent ex-clown and the much shorter Chinese pilot. "I think everyone's gone insane," Quatre whispered and Heero nodded his head. <><><><><><><><> Mariemaia chuckled as she carefully poured the dye into her cousin’s shampoo. The devious mind of the dictator making itself known as she hummed merrily to herself. It would cause no damage, she knew that, and after the mornings escapades she also knew that Midii wouldn't hurt her. The most she would likely get would be a tickle attack or retaliation in the form of a harmless prank. The sudden closing of the front door startled her and her fingers slipped. She failed to notice that more of the dye had slipped into the shampoo than she had intended, as she scramble to clean up all evidence of the prank. With speed and stealth belying her heritage she darted from the room, only a stray piece of plastic wrapper left lying on the bathroom floor remaining behind. <><><><><><><><><> -to be continued in part nine |
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