15-Jan-2002

Mina-san

Title: Orbital Variations
Author: bonnejeanne (bonnejeanne@yahoo.com) and von (sablexo1@yahoo.com)
Category: shounen ai, AU, crossover
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: um....
WARNINGS: Very probably OOC all over the place. Brief, obscure Kaikan Phrase reference. Is this a GW fic? Well if you think of Kenny and Duan (and the other kids) as alternate Heero, Duo, etc., I guess... real G-boys make a cameo in the last 2 parts.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and Gravitation characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners. Our stuff is ours. No money being made here.
As with all our fics, while our goal is to stay as in character as possible, any discrepancies are our mistakes.
Feedback: Any and all comments welcome, be they short or long.

Orbital Variations - an ExFam/Gravitation X-Over

by the bonne-von project

Part 1

"HIRO!"

The energetic voice called across the auditorium with typical abandon, somehow musical and strident at the same time.

Shuichi waved madly as he called to get his partner and guitarist's attention.

How odd... that new band he'd never seen before, the late entry in the contest... at his call, every single one of the six members' heads turned with a nearly audible snap.

'Are they all named Hiro?' the red mop-top thought curiously.

Running to where his longhaired friend was waiting with the expression Shuichi usually failed to recognize as patient affection, he glanced back at the six newcomers. Realizing the call had nothing to do with them, most of the band had turned their attention back to whatever they had been doing - all but one. Indigo blue eyes continued to track Shuichi with a deadpan intensity the little singer found somewhat unnerving. That look seemed to contain some sort of x-ray quality that gave him the creepy feeling he was being scanned by a security droid. The owner of the indigo eyes did not seem old enough for his expression. Somewhat to his surprise Shuichi realized that the boy couldn't have been any older than he was. Aside from an odd silver-white streak through his disarrayed swirl of thick brown hair, his appearance wasn't remarkable... well, maybe...

Shuichi could almost hear the *click* as the assessment was completed, and the boy turned back to tuning his guitar. Once the intense stare was directed elsewhere, Shuichi could take a second look and admit, with a certain slightly grudging reluctance, that the boy was quite pretty. In fact, the redhead mused as his partner observed his distraction with a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, all of the boys were... there were six cute... no wait, one was a girl - definitely a girl, redheaded at that. Watching her adjust a microphone on a stand, Shuichi frowned - lead singer? Another redheaded lead singer?

The frown turned into a pout.

Following his friend's thoughts a little too easily, Hiroshi waved a hand slowly in front of Shuichi's face.

Blinking, the lead singer of Bad Luck turned to Hiro as if picking up a conversation in progress. "So that band - who are they again? Are they any good? Not that we have anything to worry about..."

"I think they are called Red Angel," Hiro answered calmly. "I don't know if they're good. Thinking of replacing me?" he queried mildly, making reference to the long look between Shuichi and the streaked guitar player.

"Huh?"

"...or is it Yuki you're replacing?" Hiro added, actually having to strain to maintain the requisite straight face.

"HIRO!" the small explosion was exactly what Hiroshi had been aiming for, hence quite satisfying.

At the repetition of the name, the indigo gaze focused on them, then a moment's calculation as the guitar-player filed the probable identity that went with the name and apparently dismissed the pair.

Violet eyes followed the other's gaze, then back. "This is going to be interesting," Duan commented.

Kenny glanced up at the braided teen. "What is?"

"This event," Duan replied. "... and that guy." Reaching down, he closed the guitar case and stood next to Kenny. For a moment, he studied Kenny's face, then his gaze drifted to his instrument.

Kenny looked back, a slight curve pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? You think so? Looked like a dip to me." He shrugged and ran his fingers idly down the fretboard in a series of scales.

"Possibly," Duan said, looking back at the fuchsia coiffed young man across the room. He smiled. "One way to find out. You comin'?" he added, taking a few steps in the other pair's direction.

Kenny raised an eyebrow slightly and shook his head. "No thanks," he answered. "Meet and greet is your thing, not mine, remember? I stay silent and mysterious."

Duan chuckled. "Dark and deadly, yeah," he said. "I'll be right back."

Settling the guitar around his back, Duan absently flipped the fullness of his black leather coat back over his hip. He approached the pair with a smile as his mind instantly went into assessment mode. Nothing wrong with knowing the competition, he thought.

"Hey," he said, offering his h to the wide-eyed fuchsia guy. "Duan from Red Angel."

Shuichi turned at the new voice and blinked at the outstretched hand. He grinned and grabbed it, pumping it up and down rapidly about seven or eight times, then let it go just as abruptly. "Oh hi," he said, looking the other boy over - they were about eye-to-eye. "Bad Luck," he said, the Japanese accent noticeable.

"Hai," Duan replied, falling into language he'd grown up with. "Dozo yoroshiku (Nice to meet you)." Turning to the taller young man, Duan bowed slightly and introduced himself.

Hiro smiled slightly. "Nakano," he said, "Hiro Nakano. My partner's as short on manners as he is long on talent - Shuichi Shindo. Scoping the competition?"

Duan's smile widened as he looked up at Nakano. "I stand completely busted, Nakano-san," he said.

Hiro shrugged and smiled. "It's natural," he said. His eyes went to the instrument on Duan's back. He frowned slightly, then his eyes widened. "Nice Strat clone."

Duan swung the guitar around and grasped it by the neck. Lifting the strap over his head, he held it out to Hiro. "Thanks, but it's not a clone," he said.

Hiro blinked, accepting the instrument with barely concealed skepticism. Running his hands over it, he inspected the pickups, feeling the weight of it - it was a monster compared to the light instruments he was used to. It might... very well be...

Fingers itching to plug it in and try it out, he handed it back quickly. "So you like a classical sound," he murmured.

"Where you from?" Shuichi asked, not paying much attention to the subtleties of the exchange.

Duan watched the other guitarist and made a mental note that he was okay. "Classical, yes," he said, then turned to Shuichi. "That's a long story, but Sanc Kingdom," he said.

Shuichi blinked. Not known as a hotbed of modern music. "Oh!" he said brightly. "I want a drink. Anybody else?" Having spotted a row of drink machines at the side of the room, his attention drew him towards refreshment.

"No thanks," Duan said, politely. Looking back at Hiro, Duan added, "I'd better get back. Good luck and maybe we can get together and jam after this?"

Shuichi waved a blanket acceptance and bounced off. Hiro grinned. "Sure," he said, agreeing easily. It was an offer frequently made as just as frequently forgotten among musicians. "See you around."

"Hai," Duan replied and moved away.

At the machines, Shuichi stuck his credit chip in the slot and punched his selection. Grabbing the drink, he turned and almost ran into a couple of guys who had been walking behind him. As his eyes met those of the dark haired young man, recognition on both sides was followed by mutual antagonism, though quite a bit more pronounced on the part of the dark-haired passerby. At the same time, they both exclaimed, "What are *you* doing here?"

And at the same time both began to answer, "We were sponsored to the contest..."

And both stopped, realizing exactly what had happened. Both new bands had just been signed to the company, and all the top recording companies were sending freshman bands to the contest to see how they stacked up against the other new bands. To be sponsored was a mark of favor, but also sign of competition. If a company sponsored several bands, they might be looking to see how each did, to decide which ones to keep.

"ASK is going to flatten all competitors," the dark-haired young man growled.

Shuichi smiled graciously. "Oh? I'll have to look for them," he said, and stuck his tongue out, before scampering away.

Not far away, Kenny pulled the top on the drink he'd just gotten and watched the dark-haired young man's face turned shades of red and purple. Concealing a smile that no one but his brothers would have recognized, he strolled away.

Red Angel's manager explained the contest details carefully to the group of teens.

"There are about twenty-five media companies and groups participating. Each one will sponsor one or more groups to the first round of the contest, unofficially called the 'cutthroat round'." Noin smiled grimly. "The first panel of judges cut bands like crazy until there are only five finalists left. The second day, the five get a second chance to perform, and the second panel of judges, the all-star panel, ranks them. I don't care where you end up, but I see no reason why you wouldn't be in the top five."

"Of course we'll land in the top five," Tryan said. "Or somebody goes home minus a leg."

Carter put his hand over his mouth to suppress the giggle. It was a habit he hadn't managed to rid himself of even at sixteen.

Kenny performed the subtle facial-twitch that passed for rolling his eyes. "We wouldn't even *be* here if not for politics," he murmured. "We don't even have a recording contract."

Noin waved her finger at the indigo-eyed guitar player. "You would have, if your dads hadn't insisted you get more performance time in. There's one waiting for you at Circus Records anytime we can get those two stubborn bastards to sign..."

"You shouldn't call Heero and Duo bastards," Carter managed with another muffled giggle. "Anyway, having Uncle Quatre and Uncle Trowa *give* it to us doesn't seem exactly fair..."

"Hey," Tryan replied with a hand up for emphasis. "All's fair in love and entertainment, my brother. Humble is for when you accept your awards."

Duan shook his head. "We only really have a few bands to worry about in the contest. One of 'em is Bad Luck. They don't show everything up front. We'll be okay," he said.

Wufan nodded, limbering up his fingers by twirling drumsticks through them.

"I heard Sakuya's going to be one of the all-star panel judges," Carter mentioned in a hushed voice, and then sighed.

"Try, you better make sure he doesn't melt over the keyboard when we're playing," Kenny murmured with a wicked twinkle.

Tryan looked at Carter, then to Kenny. "That's going to be tough, but I'll try," he said.

"Um.. let's just get there first. We still have the battle to get through," Duan said, as his gaze drifted over the room to glimpse a shock of long dark red hair. The guitarist from Bad Luck looked up at the same time and Duan gave him a nod.

A moment later, Kenny materialized behind Duan, brushing his back as if by accident. "Hn," he said. "This could be interesting... isn't that what you said before?"

Duan chuckled a little and turned to look at Kenny over his shoulder with a private smile. "Hn..." he replied.

Raising one beautifully arched eyebrow, Kenny studied Duan for a moment and then shrugged.

Intent on business, Noin checked her watch. "Your slot will come up around five, so don't lose track of the order. I'm going to go in and scope some of the other bands I haven't seen yet. My pager's on if anything comes up."

"Sure thing," Wufan said, tucking his drumsticks in the back of his waistband. Taking Mei by the hand, he added, "We're taking a stroll... be back."

"One hour, or I'm comin' to find you two," Tryan called back.

"And don't forget to refasten your clothes this time," Kenny added in a deadpan voice.

When Bad Luck's slot came up, Kenny happened to have wandered up to the half-empty balcony. He noticed a familiar silhouette and took his place silently beside Duan at the side railing. Exchanging a glance with his friend, they both turned their attention to the stage.

The explosive energy of the singer, backed by the intense focus of the tall guitar player, and the third band member which they hadn't encountered yet, the dark-haired keyboardist, made for a combination that was compelling in a way that seemed to get under the listener's skin. Dispassionately, Kenny compared riffs with Hiroshi and allowed for respect, while remaining confident. Though the performance did not manage to change his habitual non-expression, his foot tapped and his body vibrated subtly with the music, and his attention seemed to sharpen slightly. It was the closest thing to an outward sign of curiosity he'd displayed during the entire contest.

Duan was caught by surprise at the cohesive, full-bodied sound. The music vibrated through every bone in his body and he found his attention moving from one band member to the next. The fuchsia-headed *dip* transformed into full blown rock performer in front of his eyes. Unlike quite a few of the bands he'd seen, Bad Luck was tight, confident and engaging. The song was presented well and had members of the viewing audience moving to the beat.

Sparing a long moment on Hiro Nakano, Duan watched his fingers fly across the strings and mentally added another guitarist to his list of favorites. This is weird, he thought. Just met the guy and I'm acting as goofy as Carter when someone mentions Lucifer in his hearing. He then shook his head, absently feeling the long rope of braided hair brush across his back.

Glancing at Duan, Kenny caught a flicker of expressions across his mobile face. For the second time, he felt an odd prickle as he registered the impression. As the performance ended, he turned without bothering to add his applause to the rest of the audience. "We're up in twenty minutes. I'm going to find Fan and Mei and make sure they are paying attention," he murmured to Duan as he stepped away.

Duan turned and nodded. "Meet ya in a few," he called back and moved away from the balcony himself.

'How the hell did Duan spot these guys?' Noin thought, standing at the back of the auditorium floor. Shaking her head, she turned to leave, almost running into a tall man with long blond hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her nostrils flared as her former-soldier and Preventer instincts picked up on the fact that under his jacket, this guy was armed. What the hell...???

K, the manager for Bad Luck, pulled up just short of the woman suddenly in his path. There was something about the look in her violet eyes that he recognized. "Excuse me," he said in English and with a slight smile that was designed to disarm.

Noin blinked and then smiled somewhat grimly. "I have to know what you've done before I can excuse you," she returned, one eyebrow rising dangerously. "Something tells me it could be a rather long list and I have to get my kids back stage."

K inclined his head curiously. "Hn?" he said, processing the information. "Hai, it could be a long list. You have children here? I would not have guessed it."

Groaning softly, Noin shook her head. "My *band*, buddy," she said with exaggerated emphasis. Eyes narrowing, she tilted her head. "If you're not security, and for some reason I don't think you are, you must be here with one of the groups as well, hmmm?"

"Yes," K said, not taking his eyes off of this one. "My band was just on. Yours coming on now? My condolences."

The remark brought forth a flash of something from Noin's eyes that would have looked more appropriate behind the faceplate of a mobile suit. "Bad Luck, huh? I hope the name isn't an omen for their success... Save your condolences for *after* Red Angel smears the rest of the contestants. Now move it or lose it, buddy..."

K's eyes widened slightly and he forced his hands to remain at their sides and not to the weapons in his coat. "Red Angel... sounds sweet," he said, standing aside to let the fiery women pass. "They make it, I'll buy you dinner."

"You're on," Noin smiled wickedly, as she left the auditorium to meet her crew back stage.

Without explaining, she called after the five guys and Mei as they ran out, "Go win me dinner!"

"Comin' up!" Tryan called back as Red Angel took the stage.

It had been a good performance, one of Bad Luck's best, and the release from pre-show tension added to the effervescence. Worrying about the standings would not set in for a while, leaving Shuichi bouncing off of Hiro and a very upbeat Suguru. The little wizard of the keyboards was buoyed by the lack of emergencies, freak happenings and Shindo-moodswings and for once seemed to be acting a bit closer to his actual young age than was habitually the case. Although he did take the time to carefully pack his equipment, Hiro was moved to a laugh of surprise as he saw Suguru join in a game of tagging Shuichi that nearly led to the collapse of a cluster of guitar stands back stage.

Blushing bright red, Suguru apologized profusely to whoever happened to be around and then ducked out mumbling something about calling home to check in.

Undimmed, Shuichi bounced out of the crowded backstage, between bands coming and going, grabbing Hiro's jacket.

"Let's watch some!" was the only explanation as the tall guitar-player was dragged into the back of the audience area. With their song done, Shuichi was ready to seek out a good time, competitive spirit notwithstanding.

Allowing himself to be towed, Hiro slid into one of the empty seats in the back row. The next band was already underway and they were fine, but nothing special.

"ASK is here," Shuichi grumbled. Then added happily, "We missed them - yay!"

Hiro snorted softly, acknowledging his concurrence with the last comment.

After the next brief break, the lights flickered as if fighting an overload, and six people materialized on stage as they strengthened back to full. It had to have been a trick of the eye - they must have run out during the surge, but it was a little uncanny and caused a prickle up Hiro's spine as he recognized their new acquaintances.

Nibbling on a thumb, Shuichi tilted his head gazing curiously at the stage. How strange - they had a blond keyboard player who reminded him in a funny way of his record company's president. The drummer was energetic and graceful. The bass player... cool hair, seemed to sweep over the side of his face, and the dog collar was pretty neat... The red-haired singer had a throbbing sultry voice that mingled sweetness with something a lot older than her apparent age and the song had a mixed tempo that displayed the abilities of each of the players while still blending them into a seamless whole.

She stepped back for the breakdown, as the two guitarists moved towards each other, fingers flying, weaving back and forth so you couldn't tell who was leading or following. They met in the middle of the stage and Kenny lowered his head, his forehead meeting Duan's as they fired notes back at each other as if sparring - or dancing. A crash from a double set of wide cymbals seemed to throw them apart and Duan spun away, braid flying, with a huge grin on his face. Kenny moved away more deliberately and leaned back to back against Tryan, closing his eyes as his fingers spun a line under Mei's voice that seemed to stalk her into the upper octaves.

Hiro barely noticed Shuichi bounding to his feet to dance and clap as the song came to a close. Vaulting over the back of the seat - how fortunate they were on the back row - Shuichi nudged Hiro in the ribs. "Not bad," he offered with a little grin, before scampering off in search of refreshment, relievement or some other unknown goal.

Shaking his head, Hiro pushed his bangs up, his fingers collecting a little moisture. Refusing to be out-understated by his partner, he murmured, "For kids," from the superiority of his nineteen years.

"Well, that wasn't too embarrassing," Duan called out as he unstrapped his guitar and put it away.

"And everybody gets to keep their legs...so far," Tryan piped up.

Wiping his face with a provided towel, Duan tossed it near his case. "I'm going for a drink, any takers?"

Five faces turned in his direction.

"Got it," he replied. "Be back, shortly."

Calling to reach Duan's retreating ears, Noin added, "The cut will be posted at 9pm, so meet at the hotel at 9:15 and I'll let you know the results. Meanwhile, stay outta trouble, ok?"

Six pairs of eyes turned to Noin with the obligatory hurt/affronted expression before grins, raspberries and other more honest responses ensued.

"Yeah yeah," the ex-Preventer turned manager waved dismissively. "All right I won't even say don't get into any you can't get out of, cause heaven knows what that would be," she shuddered slightly. "I'll settle for, 'don't scare the straights'."

Noin stuck it out for the last of the performances at 7:30. After that a quick snack, and a couple of calls, and Noin managed to dredge up the identity of the tall, 'packin' blond.

"The infamous Mr. K," she murmured to herself with a combination of satisfaction and wary curiosity.

She spotted the legendary and violence-prone agent in the lobby, talking with a dark-haired man who seemed pleasant, but prone to nervousness. He was finally chased off with a promise of, "I'll let you know as soon as I find out," from K.

Leaning against the wall with her arms loosely folded, Noin marked the scattering of other managers, agents and a few band members who were waiting for the posting results.

At about ten minutes to nine, a somewhat stressed looking lady in a tie-dyed t-shirt and leggings approached her and pulled her aside.

"You're Noin, with Red Angel, right?"

Noin nodded. The woman checked off something on a small clipboard.

"Your band is in the top five. We're posting in a few minutes but we wanted to give you some advance notice to avoid lynchings..."

Noin swallowed a laugh and nodded - the woman appeared to be serious. "Thanks, I appreciate that," she said simply.

The woman nodded and moved off, stopping next at Mr. K.

Watching the woman talked to him in a low voice, Noin smiled. "Not so bad luck after all," she remarked to herself.

As the woman moved off looking for someone else, Noin noticed the blond glancing her way. Giving him a little salute of congratulations, she weighed the urge to stick around just so she could see the wailing and gnashing of teeth, over a fast getaway.

"Miss Noin," K called, moving in her direction. "It looks as though we both have something to celebrate. Congratulations. Your band was first rate."

Stopping in front of her, K positioned himself just inside her personal space and angled slightly in case she felt the need to run.

Noin gave him a slight smile. Deja-vu, she thought. What is it with me and big, blond men who are prone to violence? "Thank you," she allowed gracefully. "For myself, I'll wait on the celebration till after tomorrow - but dinner is another thing. How about ten o'clock?"

K's blue eyes twinkled as he looked down at Noin. He resisted the urge to brush the hair back from her face, opting for a more private moment. "Ten o'clock sounds fine. I'll meet you in the lobby?" he said.

"Let's make it out front," she answered. "Wouldn't want anyone to accuse us of conspiring, would we?" With a somewhat impudent grin, she turned and headed for the exit.

"Hai," K said, watching as she made her way out. Sighing a little, he did a quick weapons check and went to locate his people.

Aizawa Taki felt sick. The nausea crawled up and down between his throat and his stomach. His pale complexion was almost bonelike, and his hands were clenched to keep from shaking.

It was nine-ten, and he'd not only confirmed that there was no mistake, ASK was not on the list of five... he'd actually coerced one of the contest staff into admitting that they had been ranked sixth. Humiliation and rage battled with gut-sinking fear in his heart.

Rage was better. On the list of the five finalists, Taki had no doubt whatsoever who had taken their rightful place. Every time they seemed to be moving ahead, there was the obstacle. It was unfair. It was hideously wrong. It could not be forgiven.

"I've got a dinner-date, guys," Noin announced, as the celebrations died down to a manageable level. Carter was watching Lucifer tapes, Mei and Wufan had disappeared again, Tryan and Duan were playing video games and Kenny was taking a shower. "Keep the room service tab to three figures, ok?"

Assents were cheerful, along with a few whistles and catcalls.

Once out of the shower, Kenny got dressed and then went over to nudge Duan with his toe. "Going for a walk."

"Okay," Duan said, then looked up. "You want company or is it a scout?"

Kenny smiled slightly. "I'll meet you downstairs when he's through beating the pants off of ya."

"Got it and like hell!" Duan replied, turning his attention back to the screen.

Across the hall and six doors down, a hotel porter knocked on the door and produced an envelope with a folded sheet of paper inside. "Left at the desk for Shuichi Shindo," he explained, and then departed.

"Nani?" Shuichi replied, bouncing over to the bed. Dropping down on the mattress, he tore open the envelope hoping that the message was from his lover and the center of his universe.

'You didn't blow it,' the note read. 'Since that means you are staying for another day, come down to the club a block down from the hotel, I'll buy dinner.' It was signed Yuki Eiri.

Shuichi's eyes widened and he fell back against the bed. "YukiYukYuki...." he said in a dreamy, swirly voice. He then laughed at nothing in particular and pondered whether the dinner invitation or Bad Luck being in the finals meant more. With another staccato burst of his lover's name, he rolled up and bounced to the closet to dress. "Invitation," he said, settling the matter as he got dressed. He tried very hard not to sigh too much and dream. He didn't want to keep Yuki waiting.

Hiro watched his partner with a slight smile. He was a little surprised at the note but it seemed things were going better for Shuichi just now and it was no time to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Don't stay out *all* night," he mentioned without too much strength. "We play again tomorrow - just as important as today."

"Ok," Shuichi replied, smiling down at his friend. "Yuki is taking me to dinner! Be back!"

Nodding, Hiro attempted to preserve a straight face. Lots of practice helped.

TBC

Please feel free to direct feedback to the authors!
sablexo1@yahoo.com, bonnejeanne@yahoo.com.

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