29-Dec-2000
This is yet another in the long line of Short and Stupid fics, and I don't know why I have this obsession with them, but hey. <g>
Disclaimers: Nothing GW is mine, all I own are my own twisted thoughts, not the characters.
"Ouch," was all Duo Maxwell could think to say.
The five captive pilots stood a moment, staring at the guard who was bleeding profusly from between his legs, crumpled on the ground and passed out from pain. Quatre was trying not to throw up. For that matter, so were the other Gundam pilots. Wufei's hands, cuffed behind his back like the others, twitched involuntarily. Finally, the Chinese pilot managed to gather up enough courange to drop down beside the prone figure, turn around, and grope for the keys in the blood-soaked pants pocket.
Today was the strangest day in the poor boys' history. Captured behind enemy lines, a proud and vain OZ soldier intended to turn them in to his superior officers himself, without assistance from the other men that helped him capture them, in hopes of some promotion or other, from what the pilots had gathered. He was transporting them by truck, without alerting anyone from OZ, so sure of his own abilities he was. The pilots had been drugged prior to transport, and the stuff running through their systems was making them sluggish. Because of that, they hadn't been able to formulate a decent plan of escape.
A few minutes earlier, the soldier had stopped to make use of the bushes, and decided that, drugged or no, he wasn't trusting the five boys alone in his truck. He waved his pistol, making them get out of the vehicle, and double-checked their bindings.
Then Mister IQ shoved the gun down the front of his pants.
Heero quickly regained his composure. "This makes things much easier. Duo, Wufei, search the truck for any other weapons. Trowa, see if you can monitor OZ's channels on the radio. We're going to need to find a safe place for the night. Anyone here sober enough to handle driving?"
Quatre jerked a now-free hand upward, indicating he was the least drugged. Free of their bonds, the boys took one last look at the man sprawled on the ground.
"He'll have an interesting story to tell his children one day," Duo quipped.
"...they'll all be adopted, of course," added Quatre. Heero actually shuddered, but whether from a reaction to the drugs in his system or to the man who had blown off sensitive anatomy, it was hard to tell. The others managed to scrounge up weapons, and Heero, feeling brave (if a bit nauseated) took the pistol from the man's bloody pants. He couldn't help noticing the odd looks the others were giving him as he put the safety on the gun. It took a moment for his addled brain to realize they were thinking about *where* he usually kept his gun and wondering exactly how brave he was feeling.
With a shrug and a sigh, he turned slightly, lifting up his green tank top to display the holster around the small of his back where he placed the gun quickly and effortlessly. Duo raised an eyebrow. "Funny, I always thought you kept that thing in the back of your shorts."
"Exactly *how* could I get away with keeping a gun in my shorts? Aside from the fact that I don't feel like blowing my ass off..." he glared at the guard, "...unlike some stupid OZ soldiers I could think of --"
"That wasn't his posterior he blew off, Heero," Trowa amended.
Heero glared but ignored him, "-- I don't have the room for anything other than *me* in these things."
Duo shrugged. "I dunno, modified Hammerspace or something? Spandex space? I'm still trying to figure out how you keep *you* in there! Jesus, those things shouldn't leave anything to the imagination!"
The other three raised eyebrows, more at Heero's sudden blush than at Duo's commentary. Duo snickered at their surprised expressions. "Hey, I've seen him in the boys' shower room, remember?"
"Gender-bender?" Trowa suggested quietly.
/I will not kill my comrades, I will not kill my comrades.../ The words were becoming the seriously-embarrassed Heero's mantra. "Get in the truck," he ordered.
*****
::snickers:: Once again, Comments and Criticisms are welcome, flames will be used to toast marshmallows.
Tabs