Title: Tiles
Author: kc-chan ([email protected])
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17; this part- PG13
Warning: Language, Violence, yaoi, Angst, AU, possible OOC, lemon later on.
SPECIAL WARNING- real chants are used here folks, I take no responsibility if you happen to use them and you get hurt/injured. I personally don't mess around with things I have no control over. No daemons were summoned during the scripting of this fic. In fact, I don't think I want to test them. Three rules to life- never be around before, during, or after a daemon summoning.
Pairings: 6x5/5x6 ; 1x2/2x1; 3x4/4x3 ; mentions of 13x6 & 5xM/Mx5. . . and urm. . . non-canon later. ^^;;
SPOILERS: to be safe I'll say the entire series especially Blind target, Episode Zero manga, and Endless Waltz..
Archive: www.wired-dna.net ; um... whoever has previous okays take it. anyone else please email me (not like I am going to say no or anything. . .)
Disclaimer: not mine. . . please don't sue. Only borrowing them.
Thanks to my beta-ers- Cheshire-san , Lilie-san, and Aya-chan for all their wonderful help and translating help! I love you!!! ::glomps::

This part dedicated to: Trixie-san; Cheshire-san; Azzie; Red Pearl-san; Steelsong-san; bearilou ; lilie-san; nana-chan; Brenda-san; Krimie-san ; Zoisite NightDragon; DragonMage-san; Aya-chan; Nightfall-san; Dina-san and whomever else I have missed who have replied and given words of encouragement (and threats to write faster ^^;;). Thank-you!!

Tiles
Part 4

By: kc-chan

"I told ya, be *still*, Duo!" a childish whisper came over the boy's shoulder.

"I am," the violet eyed boy hissed back, sticking out his tongue in reply as well.

They sat in relative silence, waiting for the moment to come. Solo brushed back a strangely piece of blonde hair from his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. He could feel Duo's breath on his shoulder... Hell, he could *see* his friend's breathe in the cooling air of autumn. They needed to make good today, otherwise it would be one long winter. Snow would be coming soon, and with it another few months of freezing in boxes and alley-ways.

Small hands wrapped around his waist and a head with a mop of long hair pressed against his back. Duo was getting cold. He desperately wished some idiot would walk by soon. They needed to get some money. Badly.

"Solo. Look," the smaller boy whispered, barely moving, not to draw any attention to himself.

Blue eyes looked in the direction indicated by his friend's whisper. The woman was obviously from an extremely well off family. Furs and velvets stood out like a siren in their dumpy part of L2. Her long skirts and fine jewelry was a begging target for pickpockets.

"She'll do." Solo finally nodded. They quickly stood and silently repositioned themselves into the shadows. Pursuing like hawks around their prey, following her from a safe distance of the dark inky blackness of the deep alleys.

Street after street, they followed her movements as she walked further and further into the bad parts of the Colony. Violet eyes caught clear blue ones with a nod.

The blonde dodged out from the alley, looking frightened and disorientated. Stumbling forward and looking over his shoulder, he ended up slamming into the rich woman. Falling to the ground with a cry, he blurted out, "Sorry! Sorry!" and stood quickly, eyes dodging about like trouble was lurking all about.

Slim fingers lifted the boy's chin. "It's quite alright, child," she said with a heavy accent. Duo wasn't sure from where she came, but she obviously wasn't a local Colony girl.

Slinking forward, Duo drew closer and closer to their target. Solo was a wonderful actor. He could get nigh well near anyone to feel bad for him. And while he kept her preoccupied, he could get her wallet from the expensive looking purse.

"What happened to you? I'm not going to hurt..." She paused and seemed to suddenly be caught up in something. Pale fingers brushed back his stringy blonde bangs. Crouching, the woman tilted the boy's head, light flashing in the baby blue orbs.

The violet eyed boy paused, back to the grungy brick wall. Something on the back of his skull itched, something he couldn't quite pin down. The air started smelling funny...

Grinning, she stood, as the blonde child fell to the ground, like most of the people in the area. A cleansing as she put it. Stragglers in life, bums, and homeless that were better off dead to begin with.

Forgetting everything, Duo rushed forward to his fallen friend. "Solo!!" he cried out, dashing out from the safe shadows.

Violet orbs widening unbelievably at what greeted them. The boy shivering on the ground, breathe harsh in his lungs. "Solo!! Solo!!"

It was all around him...

He turned. That woman. "Hey you! Whacha did to my friend?!"

At his cries she turned, her eyes baring into his skull. Those green eyes....

Those green eyes...

The sound of voices mulling about him, slowly pulled him back to the real world.

"Duo?" a soft female voice asked. War hands gently running themselves through his hair.

"Annie? Zhat's you? Sleepin..." he murmured and curled into her warmth.

The Sankian Prince watched the whole production from his seat across from theirs. Even in sleep, the Gundam pilot didn't look very relaxed. But when the Lady's fingers touched the boy, almost majikically worry lines disappeared, and he purred. Zechs had to bite his lip to keep from outright chuckling. The wild American could be deliriously cute sometimes.

Lady Ann had the good grace to blush brilliantly. "Maxwell!" she stammered, frozen in place as the boy cuddled into her lap. "Please!"

Slowly, violet eyes opened and took in the surrounding scenery, which in his position, were two pairs of knees. Sitting up with a yawn, the American rubbed his eyes and grinned. "Still riding this hunk o junk, Annie?"

Zechs snorted, and replied, "It is *not* a 'hunk o junk' as you so phrased it, Maxwell. It is a train."

"Same difference." The boy shrugged back. "I still say we should've taken a plane."

"Somehow I would feel safer flying myself than some other pilot. Secondly, by the time we would have scheduled a flight, gotten to the flight, taken the flight and arrived, it would have been the same amount of time."

"Picky, picky," the braided boy replied.

Ann for the life of her just sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long train ride...

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

"Can't you find it quicker?!" the American pilot growled as his lover, who was at the moment typing like some fiend out of hell.

"Back off, Duo. Do you know how many car companies have plate-less black cars in Paris, let alone France, not to mention Europe?" the blonde replied softly, attempting to keep the hostilities at a minimum.

"I've narrowed it down to about seven-hundred and fifty three." the Japanese boy replied as he continued typing at his furious pace.

The taller boy next to him was rapidly hitting the keys, scrolling through the Winner databases, and attempting to file through the Empire's large resources on different networks throughout Europe. His Arabian lover was also filing through them, half on his laptop, half on the phone with his secretaries. The American was waiting for his laptop to file through possible match-ups on a fingerprint they had gathered from the destroyed caf�.

Lady Une walked into the room, and five heads turned to greet her. "Sally did not receive blood samples today. In fact, it seems as if the Paris Police are being less than cooperative. I have a few local agents talking with the captain right now."

The blonde prince nodded and returned to scrolling through the Preventer's spy networks, cell phone pressed to one ear, talking with agents, trying to pull even the smallest amount of information from them. So far no one had heard of anything.

Heero paused and turned to Lady Une. "I have managed to eliminate all the companies who haven't done any car rentals that match ours, but that still leaves me with over four hundred possibilities." Turning to the former L4 and L2 pilots he asked, "Anything else you can think of to narrow it down?"

Duo tapped his chin in thought. "Perhaps... It was a fairly new model of car. The car could not have been older than...two years..."

The blonde agreed with that. "Also, it was the sort of car a diplomat would use. Tinted windows. Silver accents."

"Ryoukai." Heero nodded. "That could help." His fingers were already filing through, narrowing his search down slowly. "Anything else? Down to... Two hundred ten."

"It wasn't a typical limo service or escort service car. Trendy and more sleek. Not European looking at all," the small blonde murmured.

"Yeah, more Japanese maybe?" Duo agreed.

As Zechs continued to mull through his pile of information, something slowly dawned on him. "Wait."

"Huh?" the American asked, braid bobbing as he turned to the older man.

"Wait. What if we are going at it from the wrong angle. I mean it could have been rented, or it could have been stolen, or even recently bought."

"Great, Blondie, that may put us back to square one with tracking that bitch." The violet eye boy snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Hn." Heero nodded and opened up two more broad searches fitting Zech's ideas. "Duo? How worn were the tires on the car?"

The former L2 pilot blanched and looked at the boy. "What?! How *worn* were the damn tires? Gee, sorry, Hee-chan, didn't have time to see how worn they were. Maybe if they had paused I could have asked, or even gotten you the brand, but nope. I was worried about a building falling on my head!"

"Baka."

"Love you, too, Hee-chan."

Lady Une sighed and sank into one of Zech's hotel room chairs. "This isn't getting anywhere! Yuy, continue with the car hunt, it's a long shot, but who knows. Trowa? Any luck?"

"None yet. The Winner resources contain a lot of data, I am still searching through all of it," he replied.

"Fine. Quatre?" she tried.

"Other than the files my secretary is faxing as we speak, not a lot. And most of that file I already knew by heart. And I can tell you that most of it is vague rumors and wrong information. I had been assuming that Eglantine Delmare was a pseudonym for a group or a corporation." He shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. "But this lead is a dead end. I have all my local resources on this, but I hardly think a woman that has evaded anything but rumors in the elite of the elite is going to let information trail to her."

Zechs nodded, "My hands are tied as well. Relena knows nothing of our families ties, and most of the ones I know are dead or useless."

Ann looked up briefly, "Perhaps Relena-"

"Out of the question," Zechs replied, cutting her suggestion short. "First, it won't look good if she started asking about other families ties. Her ties are different than mine."

"How so?" Trowa asked.

"It's a matter of political and national issues," Quatre replied, stepping in to answer the question. "Relena's power is more symbolic and very political. Zechs' ties lie into what is considered old families and traditions."

"You lost me, Q," Duo responded, leaning back in his chair.

"Two words, Duo. Aristocratic bourgeoisie," Zechs answered. "Think of the type of families who used to control the power of Romefeller in 170 AC and before that. Remember the ties to the old ways and military? Hell even our ranks reflected their way of thinking."

Trowa turned and slowly nodded. "It makes sense. You were the 'Lightning *Baron*', Krushranada was referred to as-"

"His Excellency. I had the title of Lady," Une agreed, adding her thoughts in. "Romefeller was quite a bourgeoisie. Very rich and very powerful people."

Duo leaned forward. "So how come they weren't interested in the Winner Empire?"

Quatre smiled. "One, we are nouveau riche. Two, we were mainly a Colony based Empire, though we have many holdings on Earth, the majority of the Corporation is a Colony operation. Three, my father was a pacifist and spoke against their ideals for a very long time."

"Dammit. So were can we get information on that bitch!?" Duo growled, hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

"Let me get the files that were faxed to me, Zechs can finish with a few calls, and we'll see from there," the blonde replied, exiting the suite.

~~~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~~~~

The itching sensation had grown into a bounding sensation. The Chinese boy bit his lip to stop from moaning out loud. Carefully slitting his eyes open, he focused slowly on the room about him. Looking around he slowly opened them wider. Finally sitting up, he realized there was no one else in the room.

In fact, his prison seemed almost laughable. He still kept his guard up, not being cocky and assuming that appearances were as is. The cell couldn't have given itself a better name. Some early twelfth century dungeon one would read about in old Grimm Fairy stories and history. Indeed, it seemed his luck wasn't running on the bad side of things that week. He was barely below ground as he could see the sun and blue sky. Fresh air leaked in from the rusty barred open windows, light filtering through, making the whole place almost pretty. If it hadn't been for the centuries of decay, grime, and moss everywhere.

He stood slowly, muscles protesting their movement. Not quite sure of how long he had been unconscious, he shook his head in attempts to remove the lingering fogginess.

Walking over to examine on of his prison's walls, he tapped at it. "Masaka," he murmured. Stone. No cameras. It was too good to be true.

Sighing, he looked at the feeble handcuffs on his wrists. Reaching back, he deftly pulled a lock pick from his hair and set about unlocking his wrists. Quick and expert motions rendered him cuff-less in mere minutes. He had to remember to thank the American later for teaching him those wonderful trade secrets of his.

Tucking the pick back in place, he moved over to the wooden door. Running fingers down it, the wood gave slightly. "Rotting," he mumbled himself, soft enough so no one would have heard him.

He was beginning to feel as if he should have felt insulted. Did they know *who* he was? Perhaps not. Lady Une and the higher-ups took drastic measures to clean up all databases and clear their names from most of them.

Crouching down, he examined the lock. Not a difficult one. In fact, almost too simple. Pulling his lock pick out once again, he silently unlocked the door.

As quietly as he was able he opened it and carefully crept up on the two guards. A sleeper hold and a hit to the other's neck and they were out cold. And possibly would be for a few hours with any luck.

Using the shadows as his cover, he slowly crept through the halls, up a staircase, and down a few more corridors. He either wanted the nearest exit or a clue to where he was.

The windows, like any other manor built during the early Middle Ages, were merely slits in the wall, and were nothing large enough for him to slip through. Frowning, he turned down another hall.

The hall opened into a foyer and that opened into an entrance way. Cocking the gun he had acquired from his guards and releasing the safety, he peeked around the corner of the foyer. No one to his left and his right seemed clear. He bit his lip in concentration. His two options were either sprinting for the door and leaving himself completely open for a cheap shot... Or, he could slowly edge around the large room till he reached the door.

Sighing, he did a quick check of the room once more, and finding no person, sprinted towards the large doors. Opening them and slipping through, he began to wonder if they had any security.

Black eyes darted about, taking in everything. "Great. A damn courtyard." Upon further inspection the open gravel yard produced very little to comfort him. "Fucking drawbridge. That will draw plenty of attention. What I wouldn't give for an OZ compound at the moment." Pausing, he smiled reflectively. "And possibly a loudmouth American to blow them up with."

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

Zechs sighed as the others still mulled through file upon file from the Preventer's systems and on top of that the Winner Networks. Only small references to a group of people in various points of history using the alias 'Eglantine Delmare'. The name was one of convenience, or the woman was a lot older then she let on, and the mere fact that she had managed to erase all known files was another feat that seemed to frustrate even the perfect solider.

She left no trail of motives, only some open-ended international police files and a list of stolen goods loosely accredited to her.

Nothing that could pinpoint her... or the Chinese boy.

It had gone so far that not only Quatre, but himself and Lady Une, were on their cells going through their contacts for anyone who might have even the smallest clue of Madame Delmare's whereabouts. The only concrete information connected with that name was that she/the group got you what you wanted. For a price.

He had seen a list they had slowly formulated over the last few hours. Delmare's name was connected with antiques, ancient books and furniture, priceless artifacts, tomb raiding, thousands of art works, and occult goods. But nothing of humans at all. Not even a mention of an animal.

The blonde pulled the curtain slightly back and pressed his head to the cool glass. The sun was starting to dip in the evening Parisian sky. It had been six and a half hours since they had lost Wufei. Slowly, one by one, he ran though the names connected with him or his family. He hated to... indulge... in such a blatant use of his families wealth and power. After all, for years he had been rid of half of its burden.

He had connections to first and foremost the Sanc royal family. Though parents and a few close aunts and uncles had been killed on the Alliances attack on his families kingdom... Closing his eyes, he counted through the cousins and so forth, the lineage of his family. There was his great aunt Marguerite, she had married into the House of Dutetre. No children... So that was a dead end. His grandmother had a sister, he believed, who married into the Frankish house of de Bettencourt.

Looking up, he turned to Lady Ann, who had just finished another call. "Any luck?"

"None. My connections are very few, Zechs." She replied.

"Ever hear of the House of de Bettencourt?"

"Hm. Can't say that I have. Why?" Ann asked back, taking a moment to sit at the edge of one of the clear beds.

"Trying to think of more familial connections before I attempt to call in a few favors with other families. Most of whom I am sure will not be pleased to hear from me." Smiling slightly, he leaned against the window.

"I believe they were caught up in Romefeller, if I am not mistaken." Quatre said from across the room. Then into his phone, "Janet? Yes, quick check for me. Yes, continue the other searches, but I just want to know, de Bettencourt? Yes. Bettencourt. Survive the war?" he paused slightly, languidly rubbing the back of his stiffening neck. "Hm? Thank you. I'm going to keep you on the other line."

With a sigh, the young Arab turned his attention back to Ann and Zechs. "Didn't survive. Lady Calanthe de Bettencourt, the last of the House, died peacefully about three years ago. No family, no children, most of the others were either killed as soldiers during previous Alliance battles or died for opposing the Alliance. In fact, after 183 Lady Calanthe was the last of the House."

The American blinked at that. "My, don't we have extensive networks, Q-man! Shit, man, you got tabs on every family in the world or what?"

Having the slight dignity to blush, the blonde shook his head. "Father kept tabs on any of the families with ties to Romefeller, the Alliance, any terrorist and rebel groups, and anyone with a large corporation. I added the old houses of Europe because of Romefeller's dealings during the war."

Ann looked up, "Do you think any of Trieze's old connections could be of help? Do we know of anybody left in the Krushranada House?"

Ice blue orbs, widened. "That would have been the place to start. You are brilliant Lady." He walked over to his bags, rummaged about them for a few seconds, and then emerged holding his electronic address book. "Before I left OZ, I took the time to transfer all of Trieze's addresses into my book."

Duo nodded and walked to Zechs. "Great, have Hee-chan and Trowa upload the lists, and we'll cross reference them with where they are, where they were this afternoon, connections with the mondo list of occult connections on the Winner systems..."

"And we'll get at least an accurate listing of people who could have been involved with Chang's disappearance or at least a listing of those who could have a connection to Madame Delmare!" Quatre grinned, taking the device Zechs held out to him and uploading the data onto the computers.

"Do your stuff, Hee-chan!" Duo crowed and hugged his lover from behind.

"Hn," The Japanese boy replied.

"I just love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Baka." Was what the Prussian eyed boy snorted in reply. Those same eyes glaring at the screen as it manipulated and cross-referenced millions of references against each other, shuffling through them, and running up its final list.

The Sanc born man, ran his eyes over the list, about fifty odd some people at most, hoping to catch a familiar name. "That one. I know Trieze spent a few summers at that man's house before I ever came into the Krushranada's charity," the prince thought to himself.

"Any look even somewhat familiar?" Lady Ann asked, looking over the list, recognizing a half a dozen names that she knew from various military functions. Trieze's early life remained quite a mystery to her. His Excellency had never fancied talking about the past with her, as he used to love to do with Zechs. Even if she had spent two summers with the boys, it was hardly fair to think herself as close to them as they were to each other.

"The Marquise Preruet de Billaud. Perfect alibi for the last few weeks, but that isn't why I think I need to give him a call," the blonde replied.

"Connections that he has to the occult?" Trowa asked, pausing to look up from his work.

"Not quite. Something even better. I hope," Zechs gave, but nothing more as he dialed the number and walked out onto the balcony of the suite.

<< "Hello. This is the Marquise Preruet de Billaud's Manor, how can I be of service?" >> a snobbish, almost nasal voice asked of him.

<< "Good Evening. I would like to speak to the Marquise, please," >> Zechs replied, royal clip almost naturally filtering back into his tone.

<< "And whom may I ask is calling? If you aren't on the list of calls for today, I can see that the Marquise Preruet de Billaud receives your message." >>

<< "I am sure he will speak to me. Tell your employer that an old friend of the Krushranada's needs to speak with him. Tell him Prince Millardo Peacecraft needs to speak with him on an urgent manner." >> Zechs nearly rolled his eyes to the darkening evening sky. How much more damn formal could he have been? It almost made him sick to talk to most of these people.

<< "Your Majesty! I will transfer your call immediately. Please hold, your grace." >>

That time Zechs was sure he rolled his eyes. "Guess not too many people make prank calls with my name. Pity," he thought to himself, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Prince Millard! What do I deserve the honor of this? I haven't seen nor heard from you in a while. Pity about young Trieze though. He would have brought so much prestige back into the Krushranada House. Ah, well. What can I help you with, my Prince?" the cheerful sound of the Marquise de Billaud's voice came over the line.

The Sanc man smiled at the French accented voice of Trieze's dear friend from childhood. "Preruet, I hate to burden you with a request, but I am in need of your help."

He could almost hear the frown settle on the Marquise's face. "Has anything happened to Princess Relena?"

"No, no. Nothing that drastic. A good friend of mine was kidnapped this afternoon, unfortunately, not under normal circumstances."

There was a thoughtful pause. "I see. Please continue. And I will see how I can help."

"It seems as if a woman by the alias of Eglantine Delmare stole him."

A longer pause. "An Eglantine Delmare, you say? Have you alerted the authorities?"

"I..." In a spilt second he took his old power over his new life, "I have. Lady Ann of the Preventers and one of her top agents and a mutual friend has agreed to help me."

"Then perhaps you can meet me at my Summer House in Germany tomorrow, my Prince, with you friends of course. I may be able to... assist you by introducing you to a good friend of mine."

"Thank you, my friend. We shall be there by early evening."

"We shall have a wonderful dinner with them then. See you tomorrow, my Prince," the Marquise ended.

"Farewell, and thank you." Zechs nodded and closed his phone.

~~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

Black eyes narrowed as he got cornered by that cat girl that had fought Duo earlier. He had been wondering when someone was going to show up, being out of his make shift prison for he guessed at least twenty minutes. Unfortunately, he would have preferred a guard or six, remembering little of his capture, he did remember a flicker or two of her fighting Duo...

<< "What are you doing out here?! How did you get past the guard? Gah! Never mind. Now be a good little boy and get back there!" >> she growled warningly at him.

A slight frown formed on his face. Maybe he had become accustom during the war to speaking English and Japanese too often, but it seemed to be a trend to speak an abundance of European languages that he had no clue to. But he wasn't going to let that small voice in the back of his mind get away with reminding him that it was Europe and therefore any number of European languages were spoken there. << " Do you speak English?" >> he tried, tongue nearly tripping over the words. So vastly different than all the languages he knew, and so soft compared to the harsh tones of English. Wufei supposed thought that he was lucky that his partner had taught him that one phrase.

<< "Idiot. >> Get back in your cell. I don't know how you-OFT!" she hissed as the boy's foot rocked her rib caged and the snapping noise her sternum made as his other foot circled and connected with her body.

<< "Bitch." >> The Chinese boy replied in his own language. Not pausing long, he defended himself as she launched herself at him. The black haired boy hissed as claws sliced through the flesh of his forearm, nothing deep, but still deep enough to sting. He had the upper hand in technique and moves, and she took a vastly greater amount of hits than he did.

Elita panted, half in exhaustion and half in rage. There had been no evidence that the boy was able to fight, and fight supremely well she would have to begrudgingly add. His defense was amazing, his skill profound, and his speed and grace rivaled her own, and she was a familiar! This was supposed to be an ordinary boy!

As the stone wall collided with her body, she grimaced as blood crawled down her head. This was *not* an ordinary boy!

Wufei however, did not back off. He kept up punch after punch, kick after kick, slowly watching the black haired girl grow exhausted. Serious thoughts began to gather about the people who had kidnapped him. He had fallen to... something, and he wasn't going to say majik, because it wasn't... They left him alone, in a simple, crumbling cell, the guards barely around, easily taken care of. Did that mean they had no clue of his past?

Not sure if that irked him or pleased him for the advantage he could gain, he swiftly dodged the girl's talons. Thanking his ancestors that he had learned to dodge things so well. And offering a small thanks to his dead wife for making it so.

Dodging her once more, he saw an opening and round-housed his leg, his foot connecting with a sick crunch to the back of her skull. The cat-girl, as he was now calling her, dropped like a proverbial sack of potatoes. Allowing a small grin, he raced off along the courtyard's walls, hopefully to find a way out.

His escape was cut slightly short as he peered around one wall's edge. Three armed men, obviously looking for him. "About damn time. For a while I was getting worried," he grumbled silently. He readied his gun, just in case.

Quietly he slinked further back into the shadows, ebony eyes akin to a hawk watching its prey. Holding his breath as they walked past.

Softly, he pushed off the moss covered castle wall, and slipped behind one of them. Shoving his gun in his waistband, he swiftly covered the lagging man's mouth and efficiently snapped his neck, settling him lifeless on the grass.

The other two were going to prove a problem, obviously not stupid like their former partner, they seemingly sensed something amiss and turned. Greeted by the Chinese boy, they started raising their guns.

Wufei sprang out low, knocking one off their feet and flipping the other over his shoulder. The man that hit the ground first, growled and aimed at the slim boy. The gun fired, not quite aimed well, giving the black eyed boy an easy out, and tripped the other guard into taking the bullet before snapping his neck as well.

<< "What the fuck are you?!" >> the remaining guard asked, green eyes wide with fear. A cold sweat running down his face and back. This child had just mercilessly killed his two partners. No child could do that! This wasn't in the job's description! One last look at the Chinese boy, and the man turned tail and ran.

"Weakling," Wufei snorted, easily catching up with the man and taking him down as well.

Dusting his hands off on his jeans, and quickly tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear, he bent over and ripped some of the dead man's wife-beater off. Flinching as he wrapped the white material around the claw mark's of the cat-thing he had fought, he quickly took in his surroundings. He could hear more men coming his way, so as soon as his bandaged was secure, he grabbed the green eyed man's gun and ducked back into a side entrance of the castle.

He fled through the halls and corridors, hiding in the shadows, ducking from the sight of most of the guards. His logic began to think if the large doors were the only way out in his level of the castle... Hadn't Zechs once mentioned that his castle in Sanc had been built like most castles, containing secret entrances?

Slipping down towards his cell, he began to wonder if perhaps there was another entrance below the main levels of the stone fortress. As he sprinted along the dirt floors, he ran through anything he could remember from Zech's conversations about castles...

From the corner of his eye he caught a flash of white. He skidded to a stop, unlocking the gun, and peering down the hall he saw the light from.

Daylight. It was a ruined wall in the castle. Thanking his ancestors, he slipped through the small hole and stepped into broad open country. Set on a hill, probably on the side of a mountain, it allowed him to see for miles around him.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered. Noticing a village, he figured he had either one of two options. One head to the woods and road and run towards the town. Or two, be shot.

Running towards the lush woods, he easily dodged through the brush and tree limbs till he hit an ill-used dirt road. "Don't people pave anything anymore?" He grumbled.

He supposed he should run for a while, for at least a good five to six miles. They wouldn't be able to see him through the dense woods and greenery, and then walk it. The town wasn't close... maybe twenty or so miles, but he wasn't in that good a shape to all out sprint twenty miles.

Hell, maybe if he was lucky he could hitchhike there.

And then get an aspirin for his still pounding headache.

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

The crisp sound of sharp stiletto heels tapping the wooden floor sounded on akin to bullets leaving a riffle. The small violet eyed girl squirmed whilst the pacing woman's attention was away from her briefly.

<< "Impossible! Where was the mistake? He is a mere boy!" >>

Elita shrank back as narrowed green orbs glared at her as if she were no more than a meager insect to be crushed. In fact, she made it a note to get the boy back before that was what her master intended to do to her...

<< "Forgive me, master! I didn't mean to let him escape!" >> she mewed.

<< "You didn't *mean* to let him escape?" >> a soft alto voice hissed, a fist clenched at one side of her shapely body.

The small girl cringed and tried valiantly to keep her ground, as it were, she would have rather turned and ran. An enraged master was a dreadful and rather unpleasant thing. There were lists of things Madame Delmare could have done to her. It wasn't as if she was the first familiar to serve the French woman. << "It wasn't my fault entirely! The guard... He was suppose to guard the boy!" >>

<< "Excuses will not get you far, m'dear." >> the woman hissed, turning and storming over to the controls. << "My clientele will not be pleased to hear this." >> Picking up her cell phone, she dialed a familiar number. << "We have had a problem arise, Madame. Yes." >>

Elita's ears perked up and twitched. She had never seen nor heard her master speak with such respect to another person. Violet orbs slit and watched with an immense intensity.

<< "I realize that. I have never failed before and I do not tend to start now. You'll have him. I'll report the progress to you later." >> Slapping the phone shut, she stormed past the black haired cat girl and walked to the door. << "Come." >>

Elita rushed off her spot and hastily followed her employer. Half listening to her master screaming for the hired men to follow her. << "He'll be heading to the road. That's where I am picking up residual though patterns. I want him back now! And do *not* harm him or it will be your throats!" >>

~~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~~

Tan fingers rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Running those miles had not helped his ever growing headache, still, he kept up his rushed pace. 'I didn't think I was this out of shape,' he lamented privately. The thumping in his skull made him more than uncomfortable.

In an uncanny manner, he swore his ears *twitched* at the oncoming sound. Cars. Narrowing his eyes, he peered down the road. The sinking feeling moving along his tired nerves warned him that it wasn't a normal person set on a country drive.

'Nope.' He grimaced. The black, sleek racing cars that bore no plates zoomed down the road towards him. He slowed his pace down. 'Think of it as a mission...' he murmured quietly.

'Parameters?' his inner voice asked seriously.

"Get captured. Overcome driver. Use car and get to town," he replied out loud.

'And if they chase you?'

"Then I simply take them out."

'Expected causalities allowed?'

He paused. "None."

'You aren't perfect...' the voice reminded him.

Closing his eyes briefly and pushing down the bloody memories in the lurking back of his thoughts he said it stronger this time. "No causalities. I am a Preventer. I am...I am no longer a killer." He paused. "I won't kill them with my bare hands. I won't shed blood on them again."

'We'll see.'

Slowing his steps, he counted the seconds as the cars whirred closer to him. He could hear the door opening, and as expected, a man grabbed him and hoisted him into the speeding car.

The scenery blurred as the car took a hasty turn, rotating the car and speeding back to his prison.

The limber Chinese youth wasted no time, he swung out an arm as soon as he heard the car door slam shut. Hearing the tell-tale crunch of a rib cage snapping, he reached over and opened the other door.

A bang resounded as a bullet thumped through the seat, inches away from his head. The driver grunted and cursed and aimed again. Pushing the kidnapper out the door, Wufei barely closed the car door as another bullet took out the glass of the window above him.

Black eyes winced as glass burrowed into the palms of his hands while he scurried to dodge the next to bullets. Reaching his foot forward, he flipped the driver's seat back, and used the moment of confusion to break the driver's arm. Grabbing the gun, he tossed it to the other seat.

The other cars watched as the black car spun out of control towards them. Bullets opened on the chaotic car, showering and breaking the glass all over the road and car.

They watched in surprise as the driver of the car was shoved out the door by the Chinese boy.

Wufei grunted, releasing the seat to its upright position. The windshield was a spider web of cracks, utterly useless to even see through. Revving the car's engine, he regained control, spinning the machine in a fast paced 180.

He heard more than saw the other cars following do the same, but his faster reactions and skills had given him a good twelve second head start.

~~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

Violet eyes watched the scene three cars behind the boy's. << "I believe that hijacking the car from trained assassins and stealing off with it does not come under most people's definition of 'normal boy', Madame." >>

The green eyed woman's fingers were slowly creating tears in the tan leather seat. In a tone much calmer than she felt, Madame Delmare grated out, << "Perhaps he has merely seen one too many action movies." >>

They hit a large bump in the road. Elita lowered her eyes. 'Mere boys don't toss trained guards out of speeding cars. I wonder who he really is? He must have some talent, he bested me... I wonder if Madame will have to cast another spell on him. I sense the wards about him-'

Her thoughts were cut short as the French woman's commands drifted into her pointed ears. << "I want him pursued and captured before he reaches the town. We are not going to let this little chase scene take place in public view. Understood?" >>

Her threatening tones were heard loud and clear by the hastened sounds of agreement from the other two cars.

~~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

Black eyes flinched closed as fragments of a bullet scrapped along his upper arm. No deep wound, but the sting bore the briefest pain. It's path lead it through the windshield, creating yet another set of web lines. Growling a frustrated Mandarin curse, the boy reached across to the other seat, gripping the front of the gun, and using it's handle to shatter the glass.

Holding his forearm across his eyes as fragments rained past him. Hissing as speed and wind pressed shards of glass into his bare arm. Black eyes, flinched but remained focused as he judged the distance in his rear view mirror, he took aim over his shoulder, watching with a brief smile that the driver and the car closest to him took a nice crashing detour into a group of trees.

Passing down the dirt road at impossible speeds, he took a small note of the sign as he lowered his gear as he swerved into the town.

Pskov.

'Where the hell am I? How long have I been out?' he questioned, expertly maneuvering the black car through the droves of people. 'I believe ridding myself of the car may be to my advantage now...' he grumbled as he nearly took out another local.

"What I wouldn't give for my Harley..." Wufei bemoaned as he fled his parked car, nimbly shifting into the masses of rushing people. The cool air rushed into his lungs, while not freezing, the fall air was brisk against his light t-shirt. Shivering, he made note to find the nearest police station and head straight to their coffee machine.

Slipping into the closest store, he walked over to the old man working in the front. "English?" He tried, praying to his ancestors that he might have continuing luck.

"Little English." The man gruffed out in a heavy accent.

Keeping his sigh internal, the Chinese boy nodded. "Police?"

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~

Eglantine slammed her small fist against the cool glass of the tinted car window. White puffs of air steamed around her, making her take on the look of an angry dragon fuming smoke. Green eyes were hard and furious as they turned to focus on the one remaining car parked in front of her. Her whirling thoughts played through any of her mistakes, but finding none. 'How could I have underestimated the boy that much!? None of this was in his file... Nothing!'

"Elita," the woman grated out.

The girl meekly stepped forward. "Madame?"

<< "You will follow those two. Shoot him, knock him unconscious, I don't care! But make sure he's still functioning and not dead when you retrieve. I will catch you up. We may need to recast his little spell..." >>

~~~~~~~'~~@@~~"~~~~~~~

He had almost missed them as he concentrated on his conversation with the shop keeper, but a double take was all he needed before he slipped out the door and into the crowds again. << "Shit." >> he muttered in his native tongue. Their movements were attempting to cage him in, he didn't see the cat girl nor the bitch who seemed to capture him from earlier, but if her little guards were hunting his every move, she was certain to be lingering about.

Careful black orbs watched as if the world had buckled under the pressures of time as one of the men spied him through the droves of natives. Cold steel whipped from his side and aimed at his head. Eyes widened in disbelief.

'You knew it was going to happen like it did earlier...' the voice murmured.

"Shut-up! I did not kill them, I knocked them unconscious! They ran over their own, not I!" he retorted, dashing and weaving in hopes of becoming too chaotic to shoot. He was not going to let another innocent die! There was already too much blood on his hands...

The inevitable fissure of the air warned his impeccable senses the moment the bullet had left its barrel. Whizzing, he pushed to his right, aiming himself to take the bit of metal but not enough to cripple himself.

He was a Preventer.

He didn't kill.

He swore that he would not kill unless it was truly the only option left. Even then... He had to do penance, he had to prove that he was trustworthy... Not just a killer.

Perhaps it was a reaction left over from innumerable battles and escapes from a few short month's ago, but he didn't even have control as limbs reacted precisely, gun in tow, and aimed with all the accuracy that a Gundam pilot could take claim to. He didn't even see where the bullet had struck on his first opponent. Two more shots reeled from the last remaining guard at his body. The crowds had dispersed, pressed into shops and allies, avoiding the chaotic battle along their streets.

Sliding in low, Wufei whirled on his feet, pure grace and liquid fire, and sprinted at his stunned opponent. With a silence that was on par to the king of stealth himself, the Chinese boy knocked the man unconscious with a powerful blow to the back of the head.

Elita looked for that mere second of recovery from the bronze skinned boy and assailed him, pleased with the sharp cry of pain that escaped his lips as her claws sunk deep into the traces of the bullet wound.

Wufei dodged the second attack fairly easily, but was ill prepared for the third. The blow drove him haplessly into the swarms lining the old walls, screams whipping up around him. Blood left his body in an arc as the nimble girl rushed at him, snagging his flesh with her clawed fingers.

Swinging his leg in a roundhouse, the Chinese youth pushed their fight away from the circle of onlookers. Dodging and lunging at one another in some twisted form caught between a street fight and a tango.

Green eyes narrowed with the look of oncoming triumph. The boy was good, more than that, she was amazed on how apt his skills were. As was her employer.

<< "It seems as if we may be able to make you even more enticing now, little one." >> Closing her eyes briefly in concentration, she reached across the astral plane, touching the boy's mind. A rouge set of painted lips widened in glee. Victory was hers.

The former L5 pilot hissed as foreign commands rushed into his thoughts. Faltering in his attack, his distraction allowed for the strong girl to pound her fist into his rib cage. The other circled back and a firm right hook landed on his jaw. Thrown back and breathless by the dual attack, Wufei felt the blackness creeping into his sight.

The street became a blur of masses of shapeless, ambiguous blobs. Fingers grasped his pounding head. It was growing in its severity by the moment, as if his head wanted to explode... Perhaps just to release its growing tension...

Blinking wearily, he noticed the cat girl moving towards him slowly. "Cocky... arrogant..." his thoughts mumbled. Pain shrieked across his spine.

Without recognizing his actions, his body fought to survive the only way it knew how.

It reacted before she could.

In the few seconds of finality, he would not remember much of anything, only that the searing pain dulled rapidly into a dull throb, and a curdling scream echoed through the silenced square.

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

Lady Une sighed and with a swift movement stood up, letting the half-awake American tumble onto the floor of their room. Duo had swung between being a horrid brat and a sexual innuendo the entire trip at present. At least with her. "I'll be back. I need to use the ladies room." And after announcing that, stepped over the now quite awake violet eyed teen, and headed out of their room.

Unconsciously wetting his lips, velvet orbs watched with some interest her body walking from them. "When she's good, she's very, very good..."

"Duo?" the blonde asked, slightly put off at the strange, almost hunger-like stare the boy had been showing Anne's retreating form.

Shinigami slipped in for a mere second, smirk gracing those full lips. A quick lick of his tongue over them, the boy continued, "And when she's mad, she's better."

*That* left the Prince quite speechless. As was the boy's parting words as he left the room, "Just think what you've got to look forward to, Zechsie!" and with a more than playful wink, Duo Maxwell flitted out the door leaving the blonde in a very confused and somewhat aroused state of being. And he knew it wasn't Lady Une that had put him in that state.

"I'm beginning to think that the deities are coming after me, Trieze. I really do." Turning icy hues away from the door, he decided that perhaps the scenery rushing past them as the train sped on would help him calm his libido. But there was something about the American's parting words that repeated in his mind, and thoughts of a certain black eyed, Chinese boy in some rather scandalous positions popped into his thoughts. "I hope you're amused, Trieze. Somehow, this is *your* fault. Dead or not, I know you knew something about this happening. Stupid visionaries."

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~

Anne sighed as she sank to the floor of the small bathroom. The train had been miraculously empty, which was a stroke of great luck considering her current predicament. 'Damn that boy!' she growled, spying herself in the small mirrored wall. Her cheeks were stained with the small pinkness of arousal.

A knock on the door whipped her attention back to where she was. "I'll be out in a second." She replied and set about quickly straightening out her appearance.

A sound click later, and the door opened. Standing there in all his glory was Duo Maxwell, grinning and holding a certain amused look on his face. Closing and locking the door behind him, he closed the small space between them.

"Fancy meetin you here, Annie," he purred.

"Maxwell! Stop it, this is neither the place nor the time..." Her words drowning as violet eyes slit slightly and stronger arms pinned her to the wall.

"Please. I need it, you need it, and damn it woman stop being so fuckin uptight!" Duo snapped, leaning in and running his tongue along her throat.

A rare laugh trickled from her throat, and she leaned her head against the boy's shoulder. "Oh, I can see the headlines now. Preventer's Head caught with under aged boy in Train's bathroom."

"Well, if you wanted a scandal, we could do much better than that. Your office, the Preventer's press room... the glass lobby at good ol' HQ..."

Running her hands through his hair, she leaned close to his ear. "I don't think we should be doing this, Maxwell..."

"We'll call it a quickie then we can go back and tease good ol' Zechsie."

"Duo! No! If anything should... That is, I mean it. NO!" she managed to stutter out under that piercing glare.

Transforming, the lithe American's ears slicked back forming his furry cat ears, fingers growing sharp, and tail uncurling. "Sometimes you need to stop being a lady, Annie, and be human."

Teeth nibbled along her jaw, fingers slid up her smooth stomach opening buttons, running along her lacy bra. "So says the God of Death."

"I've never been a lady." Duo grinned before pressing his lips and tongue into her mouth. Relishing the groan he managed to pull from her. Moving his tongue slowly to her earlobe, teething it slightly, his tone playful and husky, "Don't worry. It'll be quick...but hot."

Her reply was a helpless moan of passion. Burying her fingers into his mane of hair, breathe wickedly warm against his throat as she began to kiss that delightful throat. His hands uncoupled her bra, releasing her breasts to the cool cabin air.

They made quick work of clothing in mere minutes. Duo grinded against her hips, loving the soft moan slipping from her slightly swollen lips. The way her eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his finger into her. "Duo!" she gasped, pushing herself towards him.

"Hmmm?" He purred, fastening his lips to a swollen nipple.

Another finger slipped in, leaving her panting, grasping to him. It wasn't something they did often. The American was devoted to the cobalt eyed, intense Japanese pilot. He merely was in need of a *human* master, and she served that role well. She was his master, he in turn protected her... And sometimes jumped her.

"Duo... Please!" she whispered, eyes slipping closed as she rocked with his fingers.

With a sound lying somewhere between a hiss and a growl of pleasure, the American slid himself into her, delighting in the tightness. Different from his strong lover, he found she gave off the illusion of frailty, but like most woman, could be hotter than hell.

He purred louder as her slim fingers grasped him, her own lips reaching up to press against him. Slowly picking up his pace, he drove himself in and out of her. Pulling every gasp and hiss of pleasure he could manage from the woman.

She shuttered as he brushed it inside of her. Biting down on his collarbone to muffle her scream as she hit her climax and orgasmed.

Feeling her release herself and spread her warm over him, Duo cupped her hips and drove himself to his relief at a fast, furious pace, releasing deep inside her.

"Hot. So wonderfully hot," the violet eyed boy complimented, slowly stretching and helping her clean up.

"You are an insatiable thing. I don't know *how* Yuy keeps up with you." She smiled, washing herself up, running fingers through her mussed hair.

"Aa. Well, we Gundam pilot's needed an amazing endurance-"

"Stop. Don't want to know."

He leaned down and took another kiss. "For a woman, you aren't a bad fuck."

A teasing gleam glinted in her eyes, as she turned back to the American as she finished buttoning her last button on her shirt. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you." And with a smirk of her newly painted red lips, she walked out the bathroom door.

Duo blinked, and slowly his grin returned. "Well to quote a dear friend of mine... 'Onna!'" Walking out of the ladies room, he paused a moment to wink at the lady waiting outside it, relishing in her blush. Licking his lips, he followed Lady Une back to their car. He so hoped they hadn't kept the blonde Prince waiting too long.

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~~

Wufei blinked and in a moment his head dulled to a slight throbbing. Another scream came from a point beyond the crowds. Gun in tow, he stalked towards the noise, using any moment of clarity to his advantage. People hastily moved out of his way, as he stormed past.

He was slightly confused as to why shooting the cat girl would... Glancing over his shoulder, he understood. Red crimson had flung itself over the gray pavement, the black haired girl's body limply lying in a pool of blood.

A bullet in the head.

He had shot her at point blank.

The sobs and screams turned his focus to the French woman, pressed against the car, cradling her head in her palms. Not that he understood anything further than he shot the cat person and the green eyed woman screamed, but it didn't matter.

Walking the rest of the short distance, he thumped the butt of the gun against her neck. Extending one arm, he caught her while reading her rights. "You are under arrest for the kidnapping and attempted murder of a Preventer's employee. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. A lawyer will be called to you presently."

Blinking, the whirring of red sirens sounded like a heavenly trumpet to him. << "About damn time..." >> he muttered, watching the cars screech to a stop and a few officers scramble out.

By some miraculous means, when they had kidnapped him they never seemed to have patted him down. Shoving his gun into his waistband, he pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open to the nearest officer, he coldly stated, "Preventer."

A few minutes later, he had the Pskov branch of the Police following his orders. 'Thank my ancestors someone still speaks English...' he muttered silently.

"Captain Bogdashka?" he called out, handing the French woman - in cuffs- to another officer.

"Da, Preventer Chang?" the tall man replied, walking over to the Chinese youth.

"I need a few men sent up to the manor, say twenty kilometers from here. A unit to gather evidence and such. Will that be a problem?" he asked, rubbing his hand along his arm. The cold was finally getting to him.

"Not a problem," the captain replied, turning and sending a group of four men on their way. << "Cheslav? You and the detective take Motka and Ziven. Go to the old castle, up a ways. Search for any incriminating evidence. Thanks, boys." >> And with a nod, dismissed them.

Black eyes watched as another team photographed and took in the two dead bodies. Two more stains added to his soul. Shaking his head, he absently brushed a loose wing of hair back behind his ear. A few earlier, initial words with the captain gave him the estimate that he had lost a day, more or less. And that Pskov was somewhere in Russia.

"Do you need a ride back to the station?" Captain Bogdashka asked.

"Thank you. That would be helpful."

~~~~'~~@@~~'~~~~

Duo grumbled as the scenery changed into mountains. "Are we there yet?" he asked, perfectly hitting an annoying tone to aggravate his cabin mates.

Before Zechs could reply, his cell phone rang. Une raised an eyebrow. "Did they get information?"

"We'll find out," Zechs replied, flipping it open. "Preventer Marquise."

A familiar voice replied, "Zechs?"

Ice blue eyes lit up, and unconsciously he straightened up, "Wufei?!"

That exclamation cause both Ann and Duo to shoot straight up and come to full attention. "Oi! Wuffie!!" Duo called out, voice filled with the smile he wore across his face.

"Hn. Zechs, listen. I'm in... Pskov right now-"

"Where?"

"Pskov. Shut-up and listen, Zechs. I'm about..." he paused, the silence and murmuring on his end giving the blonde the impression that the Chinese boy was double checking something. Finally Wufei continued, "An hour by train from St. Petersburg."

"You're in Russia? How long have you been there?" Zechs inquired.

"Gee, don't know, Zechs. I was unconscious till about a two hours ago."

"Forgive me."

"Listen I can get the next train... in about forty minutes to Paris-"

Blue eyes blinked. "Wait! We're heading to Germany at the moment. I ended up contacting an old friend of mine to aid us in locating you."

"I found myself. I have the French woman who kidnapped me in a cell with one of her guards."

Zechs paused. He knew something was wrong by the nonchalant tone the boy's voice took. Clipped in information, but lacking anything personal about the- 'Fuck.' he mentally beamed himself. "I'm glad you're safe, Wufei."

Over in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs in Pskov, Wufei blushed. "Um, yeah. The Captain of the police will be sending a few faxes with what his people dig up to our office."

"Great. Can you get a train to Dresden? That should take you... what? Three? Four hours?"

Violet eyes watched all reactions in the blonde's face as he continued his brief, albeit joyous and relief filled, conversation with the Chinese boy. Plans back and forth, instructions, and the basic where to meet plans were settled. There was something that was bothering him, he didn't know what was happening with his little friend, but the tone Zechs' had taken caught his attention.

Sighing, he nestled back in his seat. They were to arrive in Germany within the next two hours, and he had a sinking feeling that sleep would not be something he would be doing for the next few days.

Closing his eyes, he fell into the clutches of sleep. Dreams and nightmares wasting no time in taking over.

A wintry day in his youth.

"I told ya, be *still*, Duo!"

~~~`'~~@@~~'~~~~

to be continued.