Chopsticks

Duo frowned softly at the contents of his napkin. Sitting in the back of a dimly lit Dim Sum restaurant, which a client who wanted to send some mysterious cargo to the lunar base had invited him to.

Glancing up at his host, Duo offered a light smile, though half his attention, as always, was on the door, "So, Mr. Ping, was it? Exactly what is the nature of this cargo you want me to ferry for you? You're aware, I'm sure, that I have to know what's in the cargo if I'm to be responsible for it."

The man, who had to be in his late forties at the youngest, gave a solemn nod, "It consist of mainly Gundam ore and Neo Titanium."

Raising a single eyebrow, Duo frowned again. "In such a high quantity? I could be accused of being militaristic if I took this job, Mr. Ping." He was mildly surprised when he saw an old friend slip through the door. Absently, Duo gave said friend a signal that the conversation he was having might prove useful.

So, when Chang Wufei, with his hair down and dressed in a simple pair of jeans with a blue shirt, sat down at a nearby table just within earshot, Duo pretended not to notice.

"Ah, Mr. Maxwell, sir, that is why I come to you. You are former Gundam, yes? You will not be accused of warring." Mr. Ping smiled warmly.

Duo tentatively picked up his chopsticks, sliding them from their paper sheath. "But see, Mr. Ping, that's really what makes me so nervous about this job. Why spend the extra dough for me, when you're not doin' anything wrong in the first place?"

Putting his chopsticks down, Duo filled his host's teacup as well, raising his own. "Ganbei," he muttered, feigning a sip. He was amused to see Wufei taking a sip of his own recently delivered tea. [1]

"I believe I understand, but isn't two hundred thousand credits above a normal cargo ship a bit steep for just insurance? I really do understand the need to preserve family honor, but it must be a real important vow to make you go to such lengths. What's this shipment really about, Mr. Ping?" Duo frowned softly, picking up the cheap chopsticks again, breaking them apart.

Behind Mr. Ping, Wufei deliberately mimicked the action, carefully and subtly gesturing to Duo, trying to show the American how to use the chopsticks in silence.

"Yes." Duo frowned a little as he realized the food was taking a rather long time to arrive, even as he struggled to mimic Wufei's movements with his own chopsticks. What were they doing, growing it fresh? A raised eyebrow in Wufei's direction voiced Duo's question as to if the restaurant's staff had been secreted off somewhere safe. A slight inclination of the Asian's head told Duo his hunch was right.

Ping sighed. "Alright, I tell you truth story. Warriors come, take my granddaughter, say they kill her if I not make shipment."

Frowning, Ping thought that over for a moment, and Duo could nearly see the middle-aged man scrambling for a lie. After a moment, Ping replied. "Chang Wufei. He have no honor."

Duo was on his feet before he'd registered standing up, chair nearly toppling over behind him, if it weren't for the wall. "I believe, Mr. Ping, that you are very mistaken," He growled the words out, his eyes narrow, "Chang Wufei is a very good friend of mine, even if we aren't terribly close. That man has more honor in his pinky finger than half the population of China has put together. If you think that he would dare to condone the continuance of war, the very thing that took his entire clan from him, you are gravely mistaken."

Mr. Ping was taken aback, staring at Duo with wide eyes, leaning back in his seat, and sputtering out a weak attempt at an apology. A few tables back, Wufei had frozen, gazing at the American in surprise, though a slow smile was tugging at his lips.

Outside, Sally's eyebrows shot up as she heard Duo's little rant, and couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped her, muttering softly into the mic for Wufei's earpiece. "Well, we certainly know where Duo's loyalty lies. Now, let's hope he can walk Ping into a trap for us."

"So you're saying that just because he's made mistakes just like the rest of us, that he's a traitor?" Duo gave a derisive snort, straightening his chair, and set himself back down. "Look. I don't know what your militant friends have got planned, but it isn't any concern of mine. My concern is the money and the cargo. So the cargo is destined to become mobile suits, right?" He demanded, picking up his teacup, and this time actually taking a sip.

Slowly, Wufei rose, taking one last sip of tea, and giving Duo time to get ready to move. As if the American needed the time.

Duo gave a slow nod. "Right. Then I can't take your cargo, Ping. See, there's this little problem with the service here. It's nonexistent. And ya know what that means?"

Ping blinked blankly, glancing towards the kitchen door with a frown, struggling to put the pieces together. Then, Wufei's hand landed on the older Asian's shoulder, and things snapped into focus.

"It means that you were being tailed by my good friend Chang Wufei." Duo grinned widely, "Have fun in the slammer, man. Looks like your shipment ain't goin' through. You might think about using the time to learn a decent Chinese accent." He turned his attention to Wufei. "And Wu-bear, it is so nice to see you."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Wu-bear, Duo?" Wufei frowned, swiftly helping the rather dazed Mr. Ping up, deftly restraining him.

"Oi, sorry, Wu." Duo grinned. "I just never expected to see you in a dingy place like this. Let alone with your hair down. Looks good on ya."

"Hn," Wufei replied with a smirk, just as two more pairs of Preventers came in, to take the prisoner and read him his rights.

"So, who's on the other end of the wire? Sally?" Duo asked, reaching up to flick a finger at the wire leading discreetly up to Wufei's ear.

"Yes." Wufei smirked. "I'm technically on overtime, at the moment, because I happened to be in the area. Once I've got my hair back up and the wire off, would you like to have dinner? The staff are all in the kitchen, and I'm willing to bet they didn't stop cooking just because we were taking down another militant in their dining room."

Duo chuckled warmly. "Sure thing, Wu. I was gonna contact you after this meeting, anyway. This guy just screamed suspicious."

"That's only because you are, apparently, immune to greed," Wufei replied with a smirk. "You'd be surprised how many people he's silenced with a wad of credits."

"No, 'Fei, somehow I don't think I would be." Duo smirked, shaking his head lightly. "Go on, get that tap off. Then you can teach me how to use chopsticks." He grinned.

Raising an eyebrow, Duo poured himself a little more tea. "Hey Sal, why don't you come in here, where I can actually hear ya?"

When she heeded the request, Wufei glared at her, yanking the tiny speaker from his ear, deftly tugging the rest of the wire out from beneath his shirt, and handing it to her with a glare.

"Yeah." Duo agreed warmly, folding his hands together, placing them behind his head. "Aside from the occasional militants that try to get me to help 'em out."

"You're not the only one with the 'offers'." Wufei replied with a soft snort, "I still don't entirely understand why they can't handle the peace. I rather enjoy it." He pulled a hair tie from his back pocket, deftly tugging his hair back into its usual ponytail.

Giving a soft nod, Duo took another sip of his tea. "Yeah, but I'm just a humble delivery man." He grinned. "So how've you been? You seem to be busy as ever."

"Hn." Wufei chuckled. "More than you know. We've uncovered no less than five militant groups in the last month alone."

"We could really use more experienced recruits." Sally added, "I'm going to go let the staff know it's safe to come out now." She hastily made her way into the kitchen.

"It most certainly is, and by the end of the year, you'll probably have Une pining after you, too. Une, Zechs, Noin, Sally, hell, she'll probably get me to bug you about it at some point." Wufei snorted softly, lowering into Ping's vacated seat.

Waving a dismissive hand, Duo chuckled. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm the only one of us who doesn't have something to keep them from joining. My shuttle could always be made into a part of the fleet with a couple minor alterations, and with how much I travel, I never spend much time with the Sweepers or Hilde, anyway." He gave a shrug. "But throw Une a bone and tell her I'll think about it, 'kay?"

"Of course," Wufei replied with a light smile, picking up the unused pair of chopsticks in front of him, breaking them apart.

Smirking, Wufei replied, "You hold one steady, and move the other to pick up your food by piece or to gather a clump of rice. Then, you put it in your mouth. Try to eat over your plate; it's rather messy at first. Not unlike the flying popcorn shrimp."

Chuckling, Duo gave a grin, tried moving his chopsticks a bit, testing them out, just as the first round of food came.

[1] Ganbei - Drink, cheers, etcetera. Mandarin dialect of Chinese. (Usually the word Canpai is used, if I'm not mistaken. That may be the Cantonese dialect, but I really don't know.)