Gundam Wing: All In One

All my Gundam Wing fic, in chronological order.

The Seconds’ Club

Une and Hawkeye unwind after long days at work. Porn With Insights, I-4, spoilers ep 16 FMA. Timeframe: ep 16 FMA, post ep 23 indeterminate GW.

Character(s): Lisa Hawkeye, Une
Pairing(s): Une/Hawkeye

Lisa Hawkeye, having in one gruelling afternoon re-filed files, re-written schedules, ordered furniture moved and rooms cleaned, and thrown all the left-over knickknacks in a box to ship to Central, made one last stop and tapped on her commander’s door.

“Is there anything else you need before I go?”

The Colonel looked up from his work and smiled. “No, I think we’ve straightened out all the mess that our visitors from Central left behind.” He patted his repossessed desk fondly. “You can go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She saluted, and the Colonel returned it as casually as he always returned military courtesies to her, as if her adherence to them amused him.

“You’re meeting that friend of yours at the Club tonight?” he asked as she turned to go.

Lisa looked back over her shoulder a bit warily. She and Une had to be careful what they said about each other at home. Continuity contamination could get both of them banned from the Club. “Yes.”

“I would be interested to meet her commander one of these days,” the Colonel mused.

Lisa felt her eyes widen. “That… could be… problematic, Sir,” she choked.

The Colonel’s mouth quirked.

“For whom?” he wondered softly.

Let me count the ways… Lisa boggled, slightly dizzy at the very thought of what might happen. Fortunately the Colonel didn’t seem serious about carrying out his terrifying notion, at least tonight, and he waved her out with a good-natured, if wry, grin.


The Seconds’ Club was dark tonight, only a few soft overhead lights supplementing the candles on each table. A single spotlight did gleam off brass in one corner as Lisa threaded her way toward Une’s waving hand. She nodded toward the instruments as she sat.

“Live entertainment tonight?”

Une made a face. “William is having musical pretentions again, I think.” She slid a drink across to Lisa. “Here. You look like you could use this.”

Lisa took a long swallow, and sagged back in her chair with a sigh. “I did. Thanks, Une.”

“Long day?” her friend asked sympathetically.

Lisa groaned.

“First there was all the upset with Scar trying to kill all the State Alchemists single-handed, pardon the pun, then Mustang-taisa just has to go and scare the life out of me and then he has to bait Edward-kun while we’re trying to get the boy packed off to his mechanic, and the contingent from Central left East headquarters a complete mess, and guess who gets to straighten everything out?”

It all came out in a single breath, and Une patted her arm while she took another slug of her drink.

This, after all, was what the Seconds’ Club was for—so that the people who actually kept affairs running could vent before they want completely around the bend and left their frequently megalomaniac commanders to their own devices. It was the most off-duty public location in existence.

Lisa smiled as she took a more moderate sip. Une looked exceedingly off-duty tonight, in soft knits and a loose pony-tail, an impression only slightly modified by the gun at her hip.

Then Lisa grimaced as she remembered the other thing. “And to top it all off, Mustang-taisa wants to meet Treize-san.”

Une coughed on her drink.

“He what?” she gasped, eyes watering.

The two women shared a long look, and Lisa was sure they were both envisioning the same Machiavellian wildfire running gleefully through two continuums. Probably more.

No,” they stated in firm unison.

Lisa frowned as she watched Une blot her eyes, and squint just a bit. “Did you have a lot of paperwork to read today?” she wanted to know.

Une smiled ruefully. “Is it that obvious?”

“Your eyes always bother you in low light after you’ve been reading for a long time. Tell you what,” Lisa finished her drink, “let’s go back to my place. And put on some real music.”

Une stood with her. “And let you get changed, too,” her friend returned with a touch of sternness. “You came straight here from work, didn’t you?”

“You bet I did,” Lisa said fervently, “before another crisis came up to stop me.”


“So, do we need more to drink, or should I put on tea?” Lisa asked as they hung up their coats and guns.

“Tea would be lovely,” Une decided.

“You pick out music, then.”

By the time Lisa had changed into her favorite old tee-shirt and drawstring pants the kettle was whistling and she brought it, with mugs and the tea basket, out to the living room.

Une had put on her favorite string quartet from Lisa’s collection and was lounging on the couch with her eyes closed.

Lisa set her peppermint and Une’s favorite blackberry to steep and pulled up a few of her floor cushions to the other side of the table.

“So, what did he do to scare you so badly today?” Une asked, opening one eye.

Lisa shivered.

“Gran found one of the deserters. It was a huge mess, but in the end Bradley’s people took the man into custody. Roy… he decided to go to Bradley and admit that he’d known all along where Marco was and hadn’t said. I think he did it to convince Bradley that he really is loyal, just didn’t trust Gran. Or maybe it was for one-upsmanship, to say he could get information Bradley couldn’t. Maybe it was just to force some resolution so he wouldn’t have to keep watching over his shoulder for what Bradley would do if he found out.” She laughed, pressing a hand over her eyes. “Knowing him it was probably all of those and a few I haven’t thought of. But, Une, he invited, he nearly provoked, Bradley to punish him for what could be seen as treason! He said it was the coin he had to use, but… If Bradley had finally decided he was too dangerous, decided he really was disloyal…”

Une got up and came around to sit behind Lisa, arms around her waist. “Ssh, now. It’s all right, Lisa, it didn’t happen.”

Lisa leaned back against her friend with a shuddering sigh. “I just hate it when there’s nothing I can do to protect him.”

“I know,” Une whispered against her hair, rocking her gently.

“I would give my life for him, Une, but he takes so much on himself trying to protect us. Trying to make things better.” Lisa was silent a moment before bursting out, “And I love Gracia, but sometimes I wish Hughes were still… what he used to be to Roy. Because God knows he won’t take that kind of comfort from anyone else.”

“Would you offer it, if he would?” Une asked.

It wasn’t a new question between them, and the answer hadn’t changed in the years they’d known each other, but Une asked it again every so often. Lisa turned in her arms, curling up against her.

“Not me. I’m not sure I could take his attitude in bed. And I am sure it would affect how we worked together; it would be incredibly unprofessional.”

“You can say that again,” Une muttered. “Treize-san is such a horrible tease when the mood takes him. If I never have to look another bottle of bath oil in the face again it will be too soon.”

Lisa chuckled, remember that story very well. Une’s fingers combed her hair, lingering over her hair clip, a silent question in their personal body language.

Speaking of that kind of comfort. And I so need some after today. Lisa reached up and undid the clip, laying it on the table. Une made a pleased sound and threaded one hand through the loose strands. The other set her own hair-tie on the table next to Lisa’s clip.

Lisa stretched against Une, pushing her back onto the pillows. Une rolled them over until her weight settled, comfortably, over Lisa, and Lisa could see her smile. She raised a hand to trace the strong, soft lips with her fingertips. Une captured one between her teeth, and Lisa laughed. When they made love Une reminded her of a great cat. A leopard or jaguar perhaps. Playful, powerful, sleek, grace given form and made soft to the touch.

She stretched again, sighing, as Une ran her hands up under Lisa’s shirt, over her stomach, pausing as they touched her breasts.

“You changed out of more than I thought,” Une observed.

Lisa gave her a slow smile through lowered lashes. “Not objecting, are you?”

“I’ve been called crazy, but never that crazy,” Une murmured against Lisa’s mouth.

Their lips barely brushed, tongues seeking a way past each other, dueling playfully until Lisa laughed again and Une kissed her hard. Une’s fingers stroked the curve of her breast so lightly it almost tickled, and Lisa moved into her touch, paused to pull her shirt off, pressed against Une again.

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love the fact that you’re not shy?” Une asked, running her tongue along Lisa’s collarbone.

“Mmmm. How lately?” Lisa sighed.

And then she forgot the question as Une closed her mouth over Lisa’s nipple and sucked slowly. A complex shiver of heat wound down Lisa’s body.

Une drew back and an odd clunking noise made Lisa open her eyes in time to see Une take a sip of tea from the still-waiting mugs. She set it down beside them, swallowed, and gave Lisa a tiny grin.

Lisa blinked.

And then Une’s mouth found her breast again, shockingly hot from the steaming tea. Lisa arched up, hands closing sharply on Une’s shoulders.

“Une…” she breathed, “oh…”

Une’s hand stroked down her spine, as Une’s tongue started to outline her ribs, one by one. Lisa hardly noticed when Une tugged her pants loose and slid them off, but did notice that Une’s own clothing was getting in the way. She wanted to feel Une’s skin.

All clothing dispensed with, Lisa had to pause a moment for appreciation. The movement of Une’s sleek muscles never failed to entrance her. As Une settled over her again she let her hands catalogue the smooth planes of Une’s back, the strong curve of her rear, let them sweep back up her sides, thumbs just brushing the heavy softness of her breasts.

Une’s teeth closed delicately on Lisa’s ear before she whispered, “May I?” Her hand stroked Lisa’s hip.

Lisa closed her arms tight around Une for a moment.

“Yes.”

Une slid down her body, moving her legs apart. She nibbled down the inside of Lisa’s thigh as her fingers brushed lightly between Lisa’s legs, sliding against her. Lisa sighed, muscles tightening low in her stomach. She moaned as Une’s tongue replaced her fingers.

Drew back.

Returned steaming hot again, and Lisa lost her voice for a moment as Une’s tongue stroked long and slow and hot against her. The overwhelming, sliding heat spread out to meet Une’s palm massaging her stomach, undoing the tightness even as the soft, wet stroking wound pleasure through her until she thought she would snap from it.

Heat again.

Lisa moaned low in her throat, feeling her body open out, straining outward against the stroke of Une’s tongue until everything recoiled and Lisa was caught up in long waves of burning, drowning sensation.

Her breath returned to her slowly.

“That was… pretty incredible,” she whispered against Une’s shoulder.

“I had hoped it might be,” Une purred back. “Though it’s a shame to dilute the taste of you. You taste like the open ocean.”

Lisa smiled and kissed Une deeply, pressing her back against the cushions. She traced Une’s lips with the tip of her tongue as she slid a hand down Une’s body, pressing between her legs which Une parted readily. She rubbed a fingertip lightly against the slick wetness there, and Une tossed her head back.

“Lisa…” she sighed, reaching up.

Lisa kissed her again, winding her tongue around Une’s, as she slid her fingers slowly into the heat of Une’s body, swallowing Une’s long moan into their kiss. Une rocked up to meet the thrust of Lisa’s fingers, faster, asking for more, and Lisa twisted her hand gently, spreading her fingers against the grip of Une’s body, plunging down faster, harder, until Une arched, clenched, over and over.

Lisa held Une as she settled, shivering slightly from her release, and waited until her bittersweet brown eyes opened.

Une smiled and pulled Lisa down so they could lie nestled against each other.

“Your peppermint is probably undrinkable by now,” she remarked, drowsily.

“I can make more. Later.” Lisa rubbed her cheek against Une’s shoulder. Une stroked the back of her neck.

“You know,” Lisa added after a moment, voice thoughtful, “maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for Roy and Treize to meet. They might just be so taken up with trying to get the better of each other that they wouldn’t bother with the rest of the world. And if they get along half as well as we do, well, maybe Treize could actually get Roy to unwind a little.”

“If anyone could…” Une agreed.

A tiny smile curved Lisa’s lips. “He’d probably get a bit of a surprise if he did of course…”

A wicked light gleamed in both women’s eyes as they looked at each other for a long moment before they broke down giggling in each other’s arms.

Epilogue

Treize Kushurenada took a sip of his drink and shook his head at his companion. “That really wasn’t a very nice thing to do, Roy.”

Roy slanted a sideways look at him. “As if you’re one to talk. Besides,” he added, “she needed something light to distract her after she had to stand and watch me put my head in the lion’s mouth. You know what they’re like about that kind of thing.”

Roy watched the blue eyes go slightly distant.

“Yes,” Treize admitted softly, “I know. What are you going to do when she finds out, though?”

Roy examined his glass.

“Duck quickly, I suppose. Or offer another distraction. I’m sure something will come to me.”

He caught Treize’s eye and they shared a nearly identical smirk across the table.

End


Branch: *perfectly calm* That was not a suggestion for a sequel. You are not suggesting that I let the two of you try to out-sultry each other on paper. It would be a fire hazard.

Treize: To be sure not, Madam! You’ve already heaped such unlooked for treasure upon me, I would never so presume.

Roy: Indeed.

Branch: *eyes characters mistrustfully*

Roy: *slow grin* Whether or not your write down what we’re doing is entirely up to you, Madam.

Branch: *hand over eyes*

Last Modified: Feb 07, 12
Posted: Jan 29, 04
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Size Matters

Crossover with Gundam Wing. Hiruma and Heero have a Spandex Space contest. Duo has an Idea. The world is in trouble now. Total Crack, I-1

They’d barely been at this school two hours and already Heero was regretting it.

“Mmm, strength, grip, yeah you’re perfect.” The blond weird guy with the sharp teeth grinned at them, which made the teeth a lot more obvious. “Welcome to the American Football club!”

“I’m not in any clubs,” Heero answered as evenly as he could when Duo was stifling snickers behind him.

The grin got impossibly wider. “You are now.” Hiruma pulled out a small black book and started paging delicately through it. “Let’s see now. Hm. Oh yeah.” He cackled. “Where do I fucking start? You guys are a blackmailer’s dream!”

At the word “blackmail” spinal reflex got Heero’s gun out and pointed. But then he had to stop and reprocess the whole thing, because there was an assault rifle aimed dead center at him and another at Duo.

And Hiruma was still grinning. “You’ll love football, trust me.”

Heero was having a little trouble with the combination of “blackmail” and “ball game club”. They didn’t seem like they should go together

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Duo put in, “where did you just get these from?” He tapped the muzzle, not at all put out by being held at gunpoint. Heero supposed he was used to it by now.

Hiruma lifted a brow and nodded at Heero’s skimpy tank top and shorts. “Same place he got his, probably.”

“Mysterious extra space in the spandex, gotcha.” Duo eyed the black book thoughtfully and shrugged. “Ever thought of piloting a Mobile Suit?”

Hiruma scratched his chin. “Hmm. You’d need a really big football.”

Duo shot Heero a helpless look, corners of his mouth twitching up. Heero shrugged back. They could play football for a while. It would give him a chance to find a better opening to get the drop on this guy.

Hiruma’s eyes gleamed. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

… or possibly not.

“Hey,” Duo whispered, as they followed Hiruma toward the playing fields, “what do you think would happen if we told him that Treize Kushurenada plans to shut down all football leagues around the world?”

Heero’s eyes narrowed and he smiled.

Six Months Later…

“… and the new Alliance leader has declared that his, er, Mobile Suit Football teams are available at a modest rental fee to any government, to settle political and territorial disputes. Supreme Captain Hiruma added ‘Football rules the world, ke ke ke.'” The news announcer sounded like she didn’t quite believe what she was saying, and who could blame her? But there was no arguing with facts.

Five dazed Gundam pilots stared at the screen.

“Okay,” Duo said, slowly. “Maybe that was a miscalculation.”

“It’s peace,” Heero declared. “I’ll take it.”

The door disintegrated in a storm of bullets. Hiruma appeared in it, grinning. “Found you! Get in those suits and get moving; practice starts in half an hour!”

“We resigned from that club!”

“We were never in that club!”

“I was never in that school!”

Hiruma rubbed his chin, looking elaborately innocent. It was the most unconvincing thing any of them had ever seen. “Really? Then, I wonder where these sign-up papers came from?” He fanned five forms in one hand, and everyone leaned in to look.

Their signatures were all perfectly forged.

Heero growled and went for his gun. Hiruma’s hands were full, and Heero had no intention of playing football for the rest of his life.

Only Hiruma’s hands were suddenly full of metal instead of paper, and half an arsenal was pointed at them. Quatre grabbed Heero’s wrist.

“I don’t want to die just as the war’s ended,” he said firmly.

Hiruma’s grin now showed enough teeth for any two demons. “Practice in half an hour,” he repeated.

End

Last Modified: Feb 07, 09
Posted: Apr 15, 07
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Breadcrumb Trail

Relena doesn’t like feeling helpless, and decides to do something about it. Drama, I-3

Her earliest memory was of fire.

Sometimes she thought she truly remembered the words that came after it, and sometimes she thought she must have imagined them later, knowing that something like them must have been said. She was really to young to remember or understand, then. But they were always the same, when they echoed in her mind.

“It will be safer if I take the Princess.”

“No! She stays with me.”

“But sir, they’ll be looking for two children—”

“I will protect my sister.”

She was sure that the memory of her brother’s arms tight around her, refusing to let go, was a true one. Onii-san wasn’t good at letting go. She was old enough to remember most of the arguments he’d had with their guardian. Especially the last one, when she was eight.

“What would your father and mother think?”

“It doesn’t matter what they would think, they’re dead! And I will bring down the ones who killed them, no matter what!”

“But a pilot… OZ only trains pilots, you must know that.”

“Of course I know it, that’s why I need to be there. Mobile Suit pilots go everywhere. Besides, OZ accepts cadets younger than anyone else.”

Yes, Onii-san was very good at not letting go. Of course, sometimes Onii-san wasn’t very good at logic.

“You did it. Why shouldn’t I?” Relena glared at her brother across the table.

“Because you’re my sister!” he said, as though that was any kind of argument. “I did this to protect you, Relena. I don’t want you being involved in fighting!”

She set her cup of tea down onto the table with a definite clink, just about out of patience. “I was involved when I was two, Onii-san! I’ve been involved all my life.” She bit her lip, trying not to cry. “I don’t want to be helpless anymore, can’t you understand that?”

“Oh, Relena. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He came around the table and knelt by her chair, strong arms folding around her. It was comfort and safety and home… and it wasn’t enough anymore. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him as tight as she could, and pushed him a little away.

“Onii-san. I’m going to join OZ too. I’ve already applied and been accepted.” She wiped her eyes and firmed her mouth, looking straight on into wide eyes one shade lighter than her own.

He sat down on the floor with a thump. “…accepted?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms and frowned a bit. Did he think she wasn’t good enough to have been accepted?

Milliardo rubbed a hand over his face, muttering. All she could make out was “…going to talk to Treize…” At last he looked back up at her, frowning in turn. “I’d hoped that—” he bit his lip. “Well, that you might be the one to keep our parents’ ideals alive.”

Onii-san really, really wasn’t good at logic sometimes.

“Peace would be nice, but we haven’t got it, have we?” she asked. And then she looked down at her laced hands. “Besides, I’m not Relena Peacecraft. I’m Relena Merquise. I’m the Lightning Baron’s sister.” He flushed and she snorted. “Thought I wouldn’t hear that one? Onii-san,” she leaned forward and grabbed his hands urgently, “I want more than just me to be safe. I want to help. Isn’t that what our parents would want too?”

“I…” He didn’t look like he’d really thought of that. After a long moment he said, softly, “I can hope so.”

She nodded firmly. “Right. So I’m going to be a pilot and I’m going to do something.”

Her brother sighed, laughing a little helplessly. “I think you got all of Chichiue’s stubbornness genes.”

Relena smiled impishly. She could live with that.

They had a quiet dinner together that night, and didn’t argue any more, and Relena held her brother’s hand all the way to the gates of the training base the next morning.

End

Last Modified: Sep 26, 08
Posted: Jun 03, 07
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Braid Your Hair With Wind

Relena is in training and Zechs is distressed. In the background, Treize and Barton plan. Drama, I-2

Treize watched with some amusement as Zechs paced back and forth through his office, scowling at thin air, long hair fanning out at every turn. "I’d say you should check in on how her training is going and set your mind at ease," he offered, "but somehow, knowing you lovely sister, I feel sure she’s threatened you with a dire fate if you do."

"She told me she’d get a training suit and step on me if she saw me," Zechs confirmed, glumly. "I really don’t know where she got her temper from."

Treize manfully stifled the hoot of laughter that tried to break free. "Zechs," he said with great restraint, "your father was a pacifist, but he was not noted for his reserve, that I recall. And you must admit, you yourself have quite a passionate streak." Since this probably wasn’t the moment to call it a stubborn streak.

"But she’s my sister!" Zechs flung out both hands as if entreating the universe to witness the justice of his cause.

"Precisely," Treize said, dryly. He raised a soothing hand when Zechs turned to glower at him. "Look at what direct terms you’re thinking in right now, my friend. Surely there are other ways to find out how she’s doing than going and asking her yourself."

Zechs opened his mouth and then closed it, crossed his arms and hmphed. "Well. Perhaps." He gathered himself and gave Treize a dignified nod of farewell.

Treize chuckled as the door closed behind Zechs, and pulled Relena’s file out from under the others on his desk. Her results so far were extremely encouraging, as was her choice to enter OZ in the first place. With both Peacecraft siblings in his hand, he might genuinely be able to recall the world to honor.


"Paul!" Relena flew light-footed down the hall to catch her fellow Cadet by the arm and steady him before he wandered into the wall again. "Are you sure you’re all right?" She bit her lip. "I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to spin your unit that hard when I hit you!"

Paul grinned ruefully, bracing himself between her and the wall. "You should have; it’s what we’re training for right?" He shook his head and stopped quickly, wincing. "You’ve got the touch all right, Relena." He laughed. "Maybe we should just start calling you the Lightning Countess now, save time."

She rolled her eyes; she was starting to wonder whether she should have assumed a different name and tried to pretend she didn’t have a brother.

"Need some help there?"

Relena looked up with relief into familiar, warm indigo eyes. "Zia-neesan!" And then she nearly died of mortification on the spot. "I mean! Pilot Noin." She came to attention, only slightly impeded by her grip on her listing classmate, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks.

Zia-neesan chuckled. "That’s right, Cadet Merquise." She was smiling, though, as she slung one of Paul’s arms over her shoulder. "Let’s get him down to the infirmary, shall we?"

"Yes ma’am," Relena said in a small voice.

There were times it really wasn’t an advantage to have an older brother who had always brought his friends home to meet his little sister.

"How’s training going?" Zia-neesan asked, kindly changing the subject as they steered Paul down the hall.

"Very well, ma’am." Relena eyed Paul, whose eyes were crossed. "Barring a few minor accidents now and then."

"Were you guys in the drop-shaft today?" Zia-neesan looked reminiscent when Relena nodded. "I remember that. Well, better to get the accidents out of the way there than once you’re in suits."

Relena relaxed as they talked. It was good to talk to someone senior who wasn’t a trainer, and someone who knew what she was going through who wasn’t her brother.

"…so the entire rank went down like dominos except for Zechs, he hopped out of the way handily." Zia-neesan grinned. "Except he stepped on the Colonel’s jeep coming down!"

Relena giggled helplessly, closing the infirmary door and leaning against it. "Oh! Poor Onii-san." Both of them hated to be awkward.

Zia-neesan ruffled her hair. "Anyway, you’ve probably got drill in a little while, right? Off you go. I’ll see you around."

"Yes ma’am! Thank you ma’am." Relena trotted off, in a better mood than she’d been in all week. Zia-neesan was so nice; Onii-san was lucky to have her as a friend. Maybe more than a friend, if Relena was guessing right; she thought that might be good, too.

Maybe Zia-neesan would even be able to get Onii-san to take off that silly mask.


Zechs looked up as a tray clattered down beside his and half rose when he saw who had carried it. "Noin! How is she?"

Noin shook her head at him as she sat down. "She’s doing just fine, Zechs. Knocked one of her classmates for such a loop, today, I had to help drag the boy down to the infirmary. I think you’re worried for nothing."

"She did?" Zechs blinked. He was still having a hard time reconciling the idea of his sweet little sister with the idea of a mobile suit pilot.

"She did." Noin stabbed her meatloaf, possibly to make sure it was really dead. "And I stopped by Sergeant Froud’s office on my way back. He thinks she’s going to be a natural. Says she keeps a very cool head in all the exercises. Went on about how it must be in the blood."

Zechs winced.

Noin bumped his shoulder with hers. "Relax, all right? If she’s good she’s that much more likely to stay alive."

Noin had, Zechs reflected ruefully, a very hard practical streak. "Thank you for looking in on her," he murmured.

"My pleasure. I always wanted a little sister." Noin smiled brightly.

Zechs decided he’d better just let that one lie, and took another forkful of green beans.


"Have you seen this?" Quinze waved a report at Dekim. "There’s apparently more than one where Merquise came from!"

"So?" Dekim frowned; sometimes he thought Quinze was far too excitable for their line of business.

"So, what if the second one is as good as the first? Should we be thinking about pushing up the timing, here?"

"We will continue as planned. If there are two, we’ll kill both of them."

"Yes, but…"

"And if that doesn’t work," Dekim continued firmly, "we’ll find another way until something does. I’m not going to let those Alliance bastards strangle the lifeblood of the Colonies forever. And neither will anyone else among us."

Though he did seem to be the only one who truly understood contingency planning. Or the fact that the life of the Colonies was, and always would be, money. Ah well.

"Well… I suppose so."

"Don’t worry, Quinze," Dekim sighed. "You’ve seen the quality of our weapon. Do you think he’s going to hesitate to kill anyone in his way?"

Quinze relaxed at that. "Of course not."

"Of course not," Dekim agreed with a smile.

The plans were all good, and the primary plan was going better than well. Their weapon would do exactly as he was told, and everything would fall neatly into place.

Right where Dekim Barton wanted it.

 

End

Last Modified: Sep 06, 13
Posted: Nov 06, 07
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Once There Was a Man

After it all ends, Treize and Zechs speak of why it happened and where to go next. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Zechs/Treize, after the fire. Philosophy with Porn, I-3, inexplicit series spoilers

Zechs sighed against Treize’s shoulder. "If all the world were like you, maybe it would work."

Treize’s chuckle vibrated through his chest. "There’s a weight to put on me."

Zechs snorted. "Most of your soldiers would think it true and possible." He leaned up one one elbow, looking down seriously. "You took me in too, you know. I thought you could control everything. That you could shape all of OZ because you shone so bright."

Treize’s lifted a hand, running his fingers through Zechs’ hair. "I hoped I could," he murmured.

Zechs slipped back down with an exasperated sigh. "Your own fault, then, if I blamed you personally."

"Perhaps." Treize drew him closer. "But you know that war will never leave us. That being so, should we not seek to make it a bright, just thing?"

"I don’t think we can," Zechs whispered, hand spread against Treize’s chest. His mouth quirked, a shade bitterly. "That being so, should we not seek to see that people remember how hideous it is for as long as possible before we have to learn again?"

"But you know that brightness, that nobility. You’ve felt it." Treize’s voice was low and intense with the perfect surety that captured everyone around him, including, Zechs had to admit, himself.

"I’ve felt it," he agreed slowly, careful not to meet Treize’s eyes while he was feeling his way toward a truth. "But… not in war. Only in… in duels of honor." He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, and repeated quietly, "If all the world were like you, then yes."

It was Treize’s turn to lean over him, smiling ruefully. "Perhaps you’re right." While Zechs stared at him, taken quite by surprise, he wound his fingers into Zechs’ hair and kissed him, slow and deep. "Not even our honor and strength could stop the dishonorable from ruling," he murmured into Zechs’ mouth. "So. Perhaps, instead, we must serve those who do stop them."

Zechs relaxed all at once, light-headed with relief that he would not be called on to fight that battle again, that his oldest friend would hear reason. "I will serve that ideal willingly," he whispered back, hands sliding up the powerful line of Treize’s back.

"Mmmm." Treize’s smile turned soft and pleased as he leaned down to draw a slow tongue up Zechs’ neck. "Good."

Zechs took in a quick breath, pulling Treize tighter against him. This was sure; this was present and now, the weight of Treize’s body over his, the heat of his hands, the slide of his tongue against Zechs’, urgent and intense in ways Treize hid when it was just words, and Zechs answered with passion.

He cried out when Treize’s cock slid into him, thick and hard and certain, whole body drawing taut with heat, relaxing into the sure simplicity of it.

"We will serve only the world’s light, then," Treize murmured against his ear, nipping gently. "Tend the fire of honor and determination and commitment. The purity that I always loved in you…"

Zechs’ arms tightened and he moaned, husky, as the velvet of Treize’s words and the hard edge of his conviction stroked him to orgasm and wild heat shuddered through him. Treize arched over him, thrusting harder, head tossed back as he groaned. "Yes!"

Zechs gathered him close again, as he relaxed, and laughed soft and helpless against his shoulder. "And after it all, here I am again, in your hands," he whispered.

"Perhaps we are in each other’s hands," Treize murmured back.

Zechs smiled, letting himself hope.

 

End

Last Modified: Aug 02, 15
Posted: Oct 05, 08
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