Dawn was breaking. Though that truly seemed too harsh a word to use to describe such a gentle undertaking. The eastern horizon blushed with the advance of the day's warmth, delicate pinks urging back the dimmer blues of night's curtain, sweeping away the stars with its rosy glow. Fluffy clouds were stained golden beneath, heralding the sun's approach even before his burnished head lifted above the shadowy-purple outlines of roofs and gables and the far-off, hazy rise of proud mountains.
Birds warbled their liquid hymns in worship of the morning from the tree branches, chirping and squeaking to one another as they fought over a few bread crumbs strewn across the freshly scrubbed cobblestones of one particularly large, winging manor.
In the distance, cocks crowed and dogs barked, but here, in the enclosed courtyard, it was quiet and peaceful, the residence still wrapped in night's coverlet, even as the wash of morning broke over the posterns and glanced off the windows. Beauty and stillness joined in perfect harmony.
Until a loud, strident shout broke the serenity.
"WUFEE~EEIII!!!"
The young boy sitting curled in the corner of the kitchen door looked up from his book, dirty face twisting in annoyance. It had been too good to last.
"Nani?" he called, taking off his thin glasses and sticking a scrap of tattered silk between the pages of thick text to act as a bookmark.
A tall figure wrapped in a plush robe, curlers twined in long hair, puffy eyes blazing, stormed over to the open doorway. "What are you trying to do, heat the whole neighborhood? Wood costs money, you know!" Zechs had never been a morning person.
"No it doesn't," Wufei answered calmly, standing and tucking his book up against his chest. "You just send me to chop it in the copse behind the house."
"Don't talk back to me, young man!" Zechs glared, hands on his hips. "What are you doing wasting time reading?! You ought to be scrubbing the floors!"
"I did."
"Washing the clothes!"
"I have."
"Milking the cow!"
"Done."
"Repairing your brothers' Gundams!"
"They're my stepbrothers, and their Gundams are in perfect condition."
"You still need to make breakfast!"
"It's waiting in the oven."
"COFFEE!!!"
"In the pot. You sound like you could use some."
Zechs fumed, trying to think of a chore Wufei couldn't have done in the waking hours before dawn. "Well, did you take the cinders to the curb, like I told you before I went to bed?"
Wufei rolled his eyes. "Why do you think I'm so dirty?"
"Kaasan! Kaasan!" A pretty golden-haired youth in a long white nightdress burst into the kitchen, padding in bare feet. "I mean, Tousan!"
"What?" Zechs turned and practically snarled.
Quatre stuttered to a stop, eyes wide. "Anou... Go get a cup of coffee, Tousan." His wide blue eyes focused past his grouchy parent. "Wufei-kun! Oh, Wufei-kun, I can't find my pink shirt!" he sniffled miserably, darting across the room and glomping his stepbrother. "Do you know where it is?"
"Probably in your closet."
"Ah!" Quatre's face lit up brilliantly. "I hadn't thought to look there! But you always put my stuff away for me, don't you, Wufei-kun!" He nuzzled Wufei's cheek, ignoring the soot, and squeezed more tightly.
"That's because he's a neat-freak," Wufei's other stepbrother said, striding resolutely into the room, wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else.
"Yeah, right, and who is it that sorts his underwear by size, shape, and color?" Wufei asked derisively.
Heero merely sniffed and went to fight over the coffee pot with Zechs.
"Ne, Niisan, I forget," Quatre said, looking delightfully perplexed, his pink lips pursed. "What story are we in this time?"
Heero turned, scowling. "Just look at Wufei's face, baka!"
"Nani?" Quatre cocked his head.
"Cinderella, stupid!" Heero cold-cocked Zechs and clutched the coffee pot victoriously.
"Aa! Souka!" Quatre smiled sweetly. "Oh, Wufei-kun! That means you get to be the star of this story!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Sugoi!"
"Waitaminnit! Waitaminnit!!" A certain braided pilot burst through the kitchen door, wearing his regular priest's outfit. "Wait just one damn minute!"
"Oro! Duo-kun, you're not supposed to be in this story until the fourth scene!" Quatre protested. "And you're not in costume, even!"
Duo eyed the frilly white thing the Arabian pilot was wearing. "Hell, no!"
"What's your problem, Duo?" Heero asked stonily, putting the coffee pot back on the counter and stepping over Zechs' prone body to confront the pilot of Gundam Deathscythe.
"Wufei can't be the star!" Duo waved a hand wildly. "That's just not the way it goes!"
Heero and Quatre turned to look at the silent Chinese boy. Wufei clasped his book more tightly to his chest and kept his mouth tightly closed.
"What's wrong with it?" Quatre asked, thin gold brows knitting.
"Everything!" Duo stomped around the large room in his black boots, braid thrashing behind him like an annoyed cat's tail.
"Wufei doesn't have a boyfriend, or even a girlfriend! He's not cute and cuddly, or dark and mysterious! He's not hero OR heroine material! He's never the star of a fairy tale fic!"
"Um... I think that's the point, Duo-kun," Quatre said, clasping his hands before his chest. "Um... remember who's writing this fic...." He glanced about nervously.
So did Wufei. The author of this particular fic had never written herself into her stories before, but there was always a first time, and if she showed up, he was as good as glomped.
"Well, I still say it's not right! Wufei's just NOT star material!" Duo turned and flung open the kitchen door. "Trowa, get in here and give us your opinion!"
Quatre's eyes misted over and he sighed heavily, a faint blush warming his cheeks, as the tall, silent pilot of Gundam Heavyarms prowled smoothly in to join the group.
"Trowa, tell us what you think, man!" Duo demanded.
Trowa blinked at him. "Think about what?" he finally asked.
Duo threw up his hands. "About Wufei, of all people, starring in this story! It ought to be ME!"
"Oh?" Heero asked dangerously behind the American. "And how do you figure that?"
"Because I fit the part of Cinderella better!"
Heero snorted. Quatre looked confused. Trowa was silent. Wufei clutched his book and kept his face carefully expressionless.
"You'd make a ridiculous Cinderella!" Heero informed Duo severely.
"But I'm the *cute* one!" Duo protested, flipping his braid cutely. He batted his eyelashes. "See? I'm the outgoing one, with the long hair and the big mouth!
"You can say that again," Heero muttered.
"And probably will," Trowa murmured.
"I'm *everyone's* favorite!" Duo continued on obliviously.
Quatre cleared his throat.
"Well, okay, not *everyone's*," Duo allowed generously. "A few people like Quatre best, and some even have one of you guys for their favorite. But everyone *likes* me, even if I'm not their *favorite* favorite!" Duo paused to consider. "How could they not?" He smirked and tossed his braided hair. "Thereforethusly, I *have* to be the star of this story!"
Everyone stared at the babbling idiot blankly. Evidently there had been one too many fanfics featuring Duo as the romantic lead written, and the celebrity had gone to his head.
"*I'm* the star of the series," Heero remarked in steely tones. He cocked his tousled head, arms folded tightly. "It should follow that *I* would star in this story."
"Yeah, right!" Duo laughed. "No, I should star, and you can be my hunky male lead!" He glomped Heero and was promptly punched in the stomach.
"But, minna-san," Quatre spoke up hesitantly. "I think the point is that too many fics feature one or both of you! It's time for someone else to have a turn!"
"No way!" Duo jeered. "This is just the author indulging her crazed obsessions!"
Heero looked thoughtful. "Maybe... But I think I've been neglected more than Duo, and I *am* still the star of the series..."
"Etou..." Trowa spoke up uncomfortably. "If we're talking about short-changed characters..."
Wufei's face was growing more and more closed off as the other pilots argued; a sure sign of his feelings being progressively more hurt.
And there was *someone* who was NOT going to stand for this!
"Uh..." Quatre sweatdropped and glanced about anxiously as the air grew noticeably thicker, the morning light dimming. The blonde youth scooted pragmatically away from where Heero had a shrieking Duo in a headlock. "Anou... minna-san..."
Trowa suddenly took notice of the change in atmosphere. His one visible green eyes widened. "Uh, not to say Wufei-kun shouldn't be the star," he hastened to pronounce, joining Quatre quickly. "After all, there *is* that beautifully written 'Aladdin' piece -- that ought to be more than enough to hold me for a while!"
Heero and Duo were still wrestling, and so took no notice of the sudden roiling in the ceiling directly above them. Where cobwebs and shadows used to play, black vapors began swirling into a dense void, crackling with dark energy.
"Don't piss off the fanfic-writer," Quatre intoned solemnly, edging to stand behind Wufei.
As if to underscore his words, there came a sudden tremendous -KRAK!- and a blinding flash of white light.
When everyone's vision cleared, Duo promptly screamed like a woman.
Quatre's eyes widened. "Oh... my..." he breathed, clutching Trowa's arm. "Hidoi..."
Trowa swallowed thickly and hoped fervently that he had gotten in his apology quickly enough.
Heero stared in horror at the... *thing*... attached to his arm. "R-R-R-R--"
"Oh, Heero! You're so pleased to see me, that you can't speak!" Relena Peacecraft crooned, clinging more tightly.
Duo came close to screaming again, his eyes bugging out, tearing at his braid. "RELENA!!! What the HELL are you doing here?!?!"
"I'm here for Heero," the girl informed him with a haughty sniff. Then she laid her head against Heero's shoulder. "I always come for Heero."
"Ngh!" Heero's face was twisted in a mixture of horror and disgust.
"RELENA!!! What the HELL are you doing wearing a WEDDING DRESS?!?!?!" Duo shrieked, frantic fingers working to completely unravel his braid.
"That's a silly question," Relena pouted coyly. "Ne, Maxwell-kun, don't you think Heero will look wonderful in a tuxedo?" Slim white fingers traced over Heero's arm.
Heero made an abortive retching sound and seemed to be trying desperately to pass out.
Duo fell to his knees, hands clasped above him. "I'M SORRY!" he howled, eyes wild. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!!!!! I'm sorry I said Wufei shouldn't be Cinderella! I'm sorry I said I should be! I'm sorry I hurt Wufei's feelings! I'm soooooo sorry!" He collapsed, burying his head in his arms, sobbing slightly.
Heero was looking pretty green. He couldn't quite bring himself to apologize, but the look in his eyes said it all.
Deciding that enough penance had been exacted to make her point, the author's fingers flew (with the occasional stumble and pause to hit the "backspace" button) over the keyboard, and with a moist "pop", the abomination was gone.
Heero promptly keeled over backwards, joining Zechs on the tiles.
"Anou... Um..." Quatre cleared his throat. "C-can we get back to the story now?"
Duo nodded fervently, still kneeling, too weak yet to rise. "Hai! Hai! Please, can we move on? No more Relenas, onegai?"
"Are you going to behave?" Quatre asked the braided boy sternly.
Duo burst into tears.
"I'd guess that that's a yes," Trowa said quietly.
"I certainly hope so," Quatre answered, frowning at the utter mess that was left of a scene that had actually started out pretty promising. "Maybe we ought to move on? Hopefully by the time we get to Duo's first scene, he'll have recovered."
"What about Heero?"
"Etou..." Quatre pondered. "Well, we can prop him in the corner. He's so quiet, it won't really make much difference."
"I heard that," Heero growled, sitting up.
"WAH! HEERO!" Duo glomped onto his partner, knocking them both over again.
"Ahem."
Quatre and Trowa looked over as Wufei cleared his throat pointedly.
"Wufei-kun?"
"Has anyone asked me if I *want* to be the star of this story?" Wufei asked, dark brows knitting.
"Anou... I don't think you have a choice, Wufei-kun," Quatre said, smiling a bit ruefully. "You should be glad it's being played for laughs, not angst. Considering how much the author likes you..." He shivered lightly.
Wufei's frown deepened. "Well, I better not end up in a dress!"
"I'm afraid I already am. Sort of." Quatre looked mournfully down at his pretty nightdress.
"Can we just move on?" Trowa asked, rubbing at his temples.
"Aa! You're in the next scene, Trowa," Quatre chirped, smiling brightly. "Better get going!"
"What about the plotline for 'Cinderella'?" Trowa protested.
"Oh, everyone knows it." Quatre folded his hands demurely before him and closed his bright eyes. "Cinderella -- Wufei in this case -- had a kind father who married a nasty woman -- Zechs in this case -- for reasons no one really understands, and then died of some sort of fatal thing, and then Cinderella's step-- uh, stepparent was all mean to Cinderella, and his stepbrothers were horrid to him too, but..." Quatre's eyes popped open and he looked sheepish, "The best I can manage is to be mildly annoying."
Trowa smiled warmly.
"I think that covers it," Quatre said, looking anxious. "Did I leave anything out?"
"Only the part about Cinderella having to sleep in the hearth to stay warm at night, but..." Trowa glanced at Wufei, who was looking properly outraged. "But I don't think that applies in this case."
"Certainly not!" Wufei sputtered.
"Can we move on?" Duo asked weakly from the floor. "I need to take some Alka-Seltzer and fix my hair."
"You think *your* stomach is churning!" Heero glared at all and sundry. He still did look pretty ill, even for Heero. "I actually had the thing touching me!"
"Poor-poor Heero-chan!" Duo swooned, glomping the Japanese pilot yet again. "Let Duo make it aaaaallll better!"
"BAKA!!"
"Can we move on already?!" Wufei snapped.
And since it was Wufei speaking, the world immediately dissolved into a swift fadeout.
(Hey, I never claimed not to play favorites! ^_~)
As the next scene opened, the day was progressing as fine as the lovely dawn had promised. The sky was a brilliant turquoise, spotted with fleecy white cloudlings, a cool breeze wafted through the ether, and all was well with the world...
Well, for some people. But no one in this story.
Prince Trowa strolled absently along the balcony railing, gazing up at the streamers hanging from the castle walls, uncaring of the fact that he was about ten stories up, and ignoring the underlings whom his actions were causing to suffer mild heart attacks.
Being a prince was so boring. Dead dull. No lions, no knives, no Gundams... But it wasn't as though he had a whole lot of choice, considering his father was the king.
He sighed heavily. And there was that stupid idea the Chancellor had of holding a Ball to find him a bride. As if he could choose a future lifemate in one night! He supposed he ought to be grateful that no one had suggested an arranged marriage, but this Ball was going to be a royal waste of time. Literally.
Prince Trowa sighed more heavily. At least this was a short scene, and he didn't have any lines.
"Ooh, Wufei-kun! Wufei-kun! Look at this!" Quatre dashed into the hallway Wufei was on his hands and knees scrubbing, leaving little muddy footprints across the damp wood. "Oops! Ah, I'm sorry!" he wailed, pretty face crumpling.
"Daijoubu," Wufei grunted, pushing himself to his feet. "It's only a little mess. Better than when Heero dragged the entire Gundam toolbox through here earlier."
"Oh, Wufei-kun, I'm sorry Heero is so mean to you!" Quatre sniffled.
Wufei shrugged. "I'm used to it. What did you want to show me?"
"Ah!" Quatre looked down at the paper he was crushing against his chest. It was thick, expensive paper, with an elaborate seal at the bottom, and it radiated class. "Wufei-kun, look! It's an invitation from the castle!!! They're having a Ball, and inviting all the eligible girls in the kingdom!"
Wufei blinked. "So what does that have to do with you?"
Quatre blushed faintly, then smiled and pointed at the invitation. "It says here at the bottom that they're inviting a few boys, too, to round out the guest list. And I'm one of the lucky ones!" He smiled and hummed, clutching the abused paper blissfully, spinning in a circle. "Imagine, being able to see Prince Trowa in real life! Oh!" His eyes glistened. "Oh, I have to go tell Tousan about this! I need a new outfit for the Ball!"
Wufei sighed as Quatre rushed off, tracking more mud.
"I'm glad someone in this house is happy," he muttered to himself as he returned to his scrubbing.
"Hey, loser." Heero tromped in with thickly crusted boots, leaving huge smears. He pointed. "You missed a spot."
Wufei looked up and glared. "Let me guess. You're playing this part as if it were a mission."
Heero didn't reply.
"Well, get on with it," Wufei snapped.
"Just checked the mail. Nothing for you." Heero smirked. "Couple of invitations to the castle for Quatre and me, but not a blamed thing for you."
Wufei snorted. "Trust me, the castle is the last place I want to wind up." He shoved a strand of hair that had escaped his tail out of his face. "Quatre's got a crush on Prince Trowa. Why the hell do you want to go?"
Heero shrugged. "Free grub. And because I know you can't."
Wufei was silent as Heero thudded out of the hall.
"I hope Relena's there!" he muttered vengefully, scowling as he bent back to his task. "Kisama!"
"How do I look, Wufei-kun?" Quatre asked, spinning in a circle and gazing at his stepbrother anxiously. He radiated innocence and purity in his white velvet suit, his golden hair a halo about his gleaming face. Wufei didn't care if he himself *was* the star of this story -- Trowa was going to take one look at Quatre, and that was going to be it!
"You look... nice," he managed to grudge. He really wasn't very good at gushing.
"Wai! Wufei-kun, arigatou!" Quatre glomped him again, obviously overexcited in anticipation of the upcoming evening.
Heero strode into the wide living room, wearing a nice outfit in dark blues and blacks. His tousled hair was brushed for once, and he smelled more of soap and cologne than gunpowder.
"Ooh, Heero, you look great!" Quatre, fortunately, had more than enough gushing to go around.
"Hn." Heero was evidently back to himself, judging from his straight spine, stiff face, and obstinate silence. As a stereotypical shonen hero, playing at being a bully had been too tough an assignment for even the 'perfect' soldier. The other two boys were just as relieved.
"Ready to go?" he bit out.
"Aa." Quatre turned to Wufei and clasped one of his hands. "Oh, Wufei-kun, I wish you could come with us!" he wailed, wide eyes filled with guilt. "I'm so sorry you have to stay home!"
"I told you--" Wufei began to bluster, then he melted under the warm glow of Quatre's concern. He sighed and gently pressed two fingers to his stepbrother's forehead, then grasped his upper arms and carefully turned him. "Go on." He gave him a little push. "You don't want to be late for Prince Trowa, do you? Have a little fun for me."
"Wufei-kun!" Quatre blushed.
"I didn't mean like that!" Wufei sputtered.
Heero snickered.
"Speed it up, boys," Zechs said, leaning in the doorway. "I've got a friend to meet who gets cranky if I'm late! And it's a long way to Konan-Koku."
"Oh, great," Heero sneered. "You're gonna come home with the wrong color hair again, reeking of incense and cheap wine and the gods only know what else!"
"Wah! Tousan! You're going to lose your memory again!" Quatre cried anxiously.
"Wrong seiyuu," Zechs said, casting Heero a cross-eyed look. Heero strove to appear innocent. "And *you* are just jealous. Let's get going."
"Aa!"
Quatre turned for one last little wave at Wufei as he exited the room.
"And don't forget to clean out the hearth!" was Zechs' parting shot.
"Hn."
Wufei stood there for a long moment, arms folded, face shut down. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to being left out. But the huge house seemed so quiet now.
"Oh well." He sighed and turned to the hearth. Might as well get his chores done as quickly as possible. Then he ought to have time for a little reading before the family returned home.
He was knee-deep in soot and ashes, grumbling to himself as he scooped the black stuff into a waiting paper bag, when a loud scuffling broke out behind him.
"Don't wanna~aaa!" a too-familiar voice whined. "I look ridiculous! Don't make me show up in the story looking like this!"
Wufei sighed and turned on his heel, barely able to fake an apathetic curiosity. He would just be glad when this travesty of a fic was done, and he could relax with a hot shower and maybe a beer or three. Being the star was a pain in the ass, he was discovering, and he'd just as soon leave that 'honor' to Maxwell or Yuy next time.
"Hidoiii~iiii!" The nasal whine presaged a bright burst of golden sparkles that suddenly appeared in the center of the room, as though someone had thrown a handful of gold confetti from the ceiling. A figure popped into existence, looking almost as though he had been booted in the rear. "K'SO!"
Wufei blinked, then blinked again. No wonder Maxwell had protested.
The 'stranger' standing before the wondering eyes of our 'Cinderella' was an attractive young boy about Wufei's age, with an impish face, wide indigo eyes, and long, unbound chestnut hair that fell in smooth wings to his knees. He was wearing a pair of tiny, tight gold shorts and a wispy, transparent white thing that maybe *could* have been called a shirt. His legs were encased in gold boots to mid-thigh, and there were yellow roses crowning the top of his dark head.
Wufei fell over howling, sending a great whoosh of ashes into the air about him.
"Oh, laaauuugh!" Duo snarled, folding his arms angrily, the charm bracelets about his wrists jingling sweetly. "This is more of my punishment for saying I should be the star, isn't it?!"
Wufei managed to gain a semblance of control, sitting up and wiping his teary eyes. He looked more closely, and his lips twitched. "Maxwell, is that makeup?"
"Only a little..." Duo shifted uncomfortably.
Wufei went off into more peals of hysterical laughter.
Duo stamped one booted foot, the two-inch heel making a sweet ringing sound. "Look, can we just get on with this?!" He planted his hands on his hips, gold-dusted cheeks flushed, glossed lips pursing in a frown of displeasure. "I *know* I look stupid, okay? Now, get with the program!"
"Wakatta, wakatta," Wufei gasped. "So, what exactly are you supposed to be?"
Duo assumed a dramatic pose, gold-tipped lashes fluttering. "I'm your Fairy-- WHAT?!?!?!" He grabbed a copy of the script and paged through it, ignoring Wufei, who was rolling on the floor by now. "I am NOT saying that!" he screeched, glaring at the dog-eared pages. "It's bad enough I gotta #@!&%in' dress like this -- I am NOT gonna be a 'FAIRY' *anything*!!!!!"
"You could've fooled me," Wufei managed to choke out.
Duo glared. "NOT funny, Wu-chan!"
Wufei just laughed some more.
Duo stamped his foot again. "Look, just go get me a pumpkin, some mice, and some lizards, okay? I want to get this dumb scene over with!"
Wufei staggered to his feet, holding his aching stomach. "Who do you think I am, Maxwell? Heero Yuy?" He snorted. "Get your own pumpkin."
"But you can't go to the Ball if you don't have a pumpkin."
"I don't want to go to the Ball."
"Yes you do!"
"No, I don't!"
"Well, doesn't matter whether you do or not!" Duo grabbed Wufei's soot-coated arm and dragged him through the room and out the front door. "Because it's in the script that you're going, and that's that!"
"It also says in the script that you're a Fairy--"
"URUSAI!!" Duo turned to glare.
For the sake of saving time, when the two boys exited the mansion, awaiting in the driveway was one roundish orange pumpkin, five cute white mice, and two green lizards.
"What the--?!" Wufei stared.
Duo smirked. "You're going to the Ball, whether you want to or not, Wu-chan!" He released Wufei's arm and stepped forward in a cloud of golden sparkles and the sweet scent of vanilla. "Because if I can pack you off to the Ball, I can get out of this damn story and back into my REAL clothes!" Duo waved his hands, and with a chiming sound, a long scythe appeared in the air before him. "AAAAACK!" Duo shrieked, grasping it was trembling hands. "Why is my scythe GOLD?!" he sobbed, staring in horror at the yellow roses and long white ribbons tied to the base of the blade. "Whywhywhy? I wasn't *this* bad, was I?"
Wufei was starting to feel a little sorry for Maxwell. "So hurry up and do it already."
Duo sniffled a little, and half-heartedly waved the harvesting implement over the mini-menagerie before him. "This is SO not fair," he whined, sniffling some more.
Without much fanfare, the pumpkin became a fancy white coach -- though it was still in a roundish shape, and looked a little seedy -- the mice were five proud horses to pull the thing, and the two lizards were a couple of green-liveried servants.
"Not bad," Wufei grudged.
"So hop in already," Duo demanded.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Huh?" The long-haired boy turned. "Whatcha talking about, Wu-chan?"
"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Wufei snapped, folding his arms. "And do you really want to send me to the Ball covered in ashes?" He tsked, shaking his dark head. "I thought you took more pride in your work than that."
"Shut up." Duo wrinkled his nose. "You're right though." His dark eyes lit up. "Now I get to dress you for the party! It's payback time, Wu-chan!"
"M-matte!" Wufei protested, but Duo had already swung the scythe in a smooth arc -- nearly taking off the top of Wufei's skull -- and the cool dusk air was filled with sparkles of gold light and the sound of dark chuckling.
"This oughta be good," Duo gloated, sending the scythe back to hammerspace and folding his charm bracelet-bedecked arms.
When the haze surrounding our hero (heroine?) had cleared, Duo blinked.
"No fair!" he wailed, stamping his feet. "Where's the long white dress?! Where are the pink roses?! Where are the ruby slippers?! I specifically ordered ruby slippers!!"
"Don't you mean glass slippers?" Wufei asked dryly.
"Oro?" Duo stared blankly.
Wufei sighed and examined himself. "Evidently the author won out over your twisted idea of revenge, Maxwell." The Chinese pilot couldn't help but look a little smug over this fact.
He certainly was dressed for the Ball; there was no debating that fact. His shoulder-length hair was unbound and brushed to a fine gleaming fall about his face, dark as night and smelling of roses. He had on a high-collar tunic of black velvet, dusted with silver about the cuffs, with tight breeches to match. Heavy work boots encased his feet, no good for dancing, but looking *very* cool. The entire ensemble was understated yet the epitome of elegance. Actually, he looked more than a little Goth.
"You look pretty decent, now that you're cleaned up," Duo allowed, a bit sulkily. "Now, go to the Ball, and remember not to belch or scratch yourself in public."
Wufei rolled his dark eyes. "You're something else, you know that, Maxwell?"
Duo grinned, good humor returning. "Yeah, you're not the first to say that!" He herded Wufei over to the coach, then paused. "Ah, screw this!"
He spun, chestnut hair flickering about him like a curtain, gold sparkles once more flinging through the air. Wufei yelped and hid his face behind an upraised arm. "Watch where you do that!"
Duo came to a stop and looked down. "Much better!" His hair was still loose, but the roses were gone, and he was now wearing a nice dark crimson suit and light boots. "Scoot over, Wu-chan!" he said cheerfully, climbing up into the coach as well. "I'm coming with you!"
"That's not in the script," Wufei protested.
"Yeah, well, you didn't hafta wear ruby slippers, so whatcha complaining about?" Duo slammed the door behind him and the coach jolted into motion.
"They were supposed to be *glass*!"
"Whatever."
Heero Yuy was bored out of his mind. The Ball had been a bust from the moment his brother had walked into the room. He wasn't quite sure where Quatre and Prince Trowa had gotten to, but he figured it probably involved privacy and a lot of disgustingly sappy dialogue.
As a result of the prince's departure, most of the females at the party were pouting or openly weeping. Annoying females. The only two that didn't seem to be in the sulks were out on the dance floor with each other; a tall willowy blonde in a nice suit and a slim beauty with wavy teal hair in a long white gown.
Heero supposed he could ask one of the other females to dance, but he had bad memories from his last experience dancing -- he shivered slightly at the thought -- and so he just hung around the punch bowl, wondering if he'd ever see his younger brother again, whether a royal wedding would be as dull as this Ball, and whether a Gundam could put a dent in the castle and liven up the party a little...
He supposed the last might be a bad idea, though. The prince was gone, but the king was still seated in his throne, piercing eyes heavy-lidded as he lazily surveyed the room. He looked as bored as Heero felt, and while Heero thought the man might welcome a little action, he was the *king*, and it probably wouldn't be the smartest thing to go head-to-head with him.
Suddenly the two great doors to the hall slammed open, sending reverberations through the crowd; first the echo of wood striking mortar, then a shocked silence, followed by mad whispering.
Heero glanced over and perked up a little. Some action, at last!
A slim figure bounded into the hall, long hair flowing about him, eyes alight. "SUGOI!"
Heero straightened and put down his cup.
The glorious youth stood at the top of the stairs, hands on his hips, gazing about eagerly. "This looks like FUN!" he cheered. "Where's the punch?! Everyone outta my way!"
Heero watched in captivated silence as the newcomer bounded down the steps and across the room, a quicksilver bundle of energy and streaming chestnut hair. His heart beat faster as the beautiful boy approached, skidding to a stop next to him and peering into the punch bowl. The smell of metal and musk broke over his senses, and his blazing cobalt eyes widened.
"What is this, Kool-Aid?" Duo stuck a finger in the red mixture dubiously. "I think it needs a little something!" He chuckled wickedly as he produced a silver flask out of the same place he kept his scythe.
Suddenly a hard fist closed around his wrist. "AWK! I wasn't doing nothing, officer, honest!" he squeaked, turning his eyes to follow the hand and arm to their source. "I-- Guuuuu..." His brain melted away to mush as his gaze met Heero's fierce stare. "Hey, handsome, wanna dance?" he asked faintly, trying desperately not to drool.
"No."
"Oh." Duo's face fell, even though he couldn't take his eyes away from Heero, drinking in those lovely, cold, flawless features as though they were life-giving oxygen. Obviously his brain wasn't getting any of the real stuff. "Well, then, what do you want to do?"
"Find the nearest empty room and screw you silly."
"Oh." Duo grinned goofily as Heero grabbed a handful of his shirt and dragged him away through the crowd. "Okay..."
At the top of the stairs, Wufei sighed and shook his head. Well, that had been pointless. At least it got Maxwell out of his hair, though. He could go home and get in some reading before bedtime now.
He hummed cheerfully to himself as he strode down the twisting halls toward the exit. He'd gotten through this fic pretty much unscathed. Yuy and Maxwell were together, so he wasn't in any danger of being paired with one -- or both -- of them. Trowa and Quatre obligated a happy ending whenever they were brought together, and this fic certainly didn't look to be any exception. That didn't leave anyone for Wufei, and for this he was grateful. Stupid yaoi writers, always trying to pair him with one -- or more! -- of the other pilots! As if he had any interest!
Nope, it looked as though he'd made it through this--
"Leaving so soon, young dragon?" a cultured voice purred.
Wufei froze, black eyes widening. Oh-NO! He ought to have known! With *this* writer, he really ought to have known better than to celebrate too soon!
"Khushrenada!" he snapped, glaring at the rangy figure in the stiff uniform lounging at the head of the last staircase before freedom. He glanced longingly down at the open doorway on the next landing, the night sky glimpsed thereat an open invitation to freedom. So near, and yet so far...
"Actually, you really ought to address me as 'your majesty'," the king said, amusement written across his aristocratic features. "But I won't insist upon this."
"Hn."
"Will you return to the Ball?"
"No." Wufei raised his chin defiantly.
"Ah." Treize straightened. "Then perhaps a private party..."
"Don't even think about it!" Wufei snapped, drawing his sword -- suddenly and conveniently slung at his hip -- and taking a defensive stance.
"Ah, I see you have brought your blade," Treize said smoothly, his burning blue-velvet eyes gleaming with pleasure. "You do know it's a capital offense to draw against your king..."
Wufei shifted uncomfortably.
"But I will claim your life in another way. You're mine now, young dragon."
"Forget it!" Wufei snapped. "I'd sooner die!"
"Now, don't say that," Treize reprimanded calmly, stepping forward. Wufei gulped and raised his blade. Treize ignored the thin metal and moved to stand over Wufei, grasping the proud chin and lifting Wufei's face to his. "Are you going to run away, my young dragon?"
"And leave a boot behind?" Wufei snorted, his voice only slightly unsteady. "Get real!"
Treize smirked. "That *would* be a bit trite. And I am the king, after all, not the prince. At any rate, I do not intend to waste any time hunting you down."
Wufei swallowed thickly.
"Surrender, young dragon," Treize's voice purred across Wufei's flushed face.
"Why does this seem so familiar?" Wufei whispered brokenly, his eyes already closing.
"Because it was meant to be, perhaps," Treize said with amusement, then dipped to take Wufei's lips. "Now this is my idea of a happy ending."
Wufei sighed in defeat. Oh well. The king was attractive and intelligent, and the royal library was a tempting bonus. There could have been worse fates, the gods above knew.
"But no dresses!" he stipulated sternly.
Treize chuckled warmly. "All right. As long as you wear the glass slippers."
"NANI~II?!?!?!"
END! (and aren't we all glad?!?! ^_~)
(:./knm/cinder)
