Alrighty, so Duos’ Threat Song? Another One Bites the Dust, by Queen. It’s somewhat obvious, though, what with it saying the title a few times. It’ll be resurfacing every now and then, so watch for that in upcoming chapters.

 

Other (Not-Normal) Warnings: Umm…inappropriate thoughts? That’s about all out of the ordinary I can think of right now…

 

Prodigy

 

Chapter 2

 

Waking Up and Singing Threats

 

x---x

 

He stared.

 

And blinked.

 

And stared again.

 

See line 147. You put ClO3! What were you thinking?

 

Love ya, and have a good day!

 

He blinked again. It didn’t go away. He rubbed his eyes, he shook his head, he even whacked his forehead with a clipboard. The words remained.

 

Heero frowned. Someone had come in his lab. And read his life’s work, the equation that lined the walls and his brain. And they had solved it.

 

And they loved him.

 

Doctor Yuy’s head slammed against the desk again. He didn’t even want to think about the smiley face. God knows what the thing sticking off its head was.

 

The lab’s door opened with the hiss of whatever that non-slamming pump thing was called. He hated that thing. All it did was annoy the shit out of him; he’d rather have the door slam than that horrific snake impression.

 

“You solved it,” Trowa’s voice echoed through the modestly large lab, and Heero glared at his colleague. Even though Trowa Barton was only an intern, he was a rising zoology star, and one of the few people who could intrude on the Lab of Blowing Shit Up without having acid or explosives thrown at them.

 

“No,” Heero snarled, and stalked towards the hissing mechanism. He ripped it off the door, and quickly threw the annoyance into a clear shatterproof case. Slamming the door shut, he filled the box up with oxygen, and when that was done (and Trowa had backed up a considerable distance, having seen this done once to a faulty keyboard) Heero, smirking, threw a match in.

 

All that was left was a charred little ball of melted plastic, and one very satisfied scientist.

 

“Who solved it, then,” Trowa asked, and Heero frowned, picking the blob out of the case and throwing it effortlessly into the biohazards bag again.

 

“I don’t know,” Heero stated, running a hand through his abused, chaotic hair. “I’m going to check the surveillance video.” Trowa raised an eyebrow at his friend.

 

“You have a camera system in here,” he asked, looking around to find any visible indications of such. Heero nodded.

 

“Hidden camera system,” he said, barely restraining another smirk. Trowa smiled. Typical Heero.

 

Said brunette was quickly jockeying his computer like nobody else Trowa had ever seen. The young man had at least seven passwords into anything, but blurred through them. Heero was one of the few people who had to wait for the processor to catch up to them, and had to wait for at least five minutes. Soon enough, Heero was staring at the screen.

 

“Who was it? Chang,” Trowa asked, and Heero shook his head. Taking it as an invitation, Trowa peeked over his friend’s shoulder, to gape at the figure leaning over the whiteboards. The girl had a long braid, and was tracing Heero’s equations with her index finger. She reached a line, and shook her head.

 

Finally, after the girl reached the area left blank for the final answer, she picked up a red marker, doodled in the answer, along with the message, and now clearly braided smiley.

 

Heero froze the video on a frame. It gave an almost eerily clear picture of the culprit. They both stared at the boy- it was obviously a boy, since he was running so fast his shirt showed clearly he was flat-chested, and his face, although beautiful, was undeniably male. Finally, Trowa spoke.

 

“Now what,” he asked. He knew Heero’s world had to have been shaken at the core, not only because the person who solved his equation wasn’t HIM, but also because the boy who did do it was his age. Heero Yuy was always the best, because he HAD to be the best.

 

Heero finally broke his silence. “We talk to him,” he stated, and printed out the screen quickly. Trowa once more quirked an eyebrow up at his friend.

 

We?

 

x---x

 

 “Please, Duo, would you sit down and shut up,” his English teacher asked politely, and the rest of the class giggled at the braided boy, who was lounging on three desks pulled together with his hands crossed behind his head. Violet eyes glinting almost violently, he smirked at the teacher.

 

“Just ‘cuz you said please,” he said, seemingly cordial as he fell into one of the plastic and plyboard desks. The teacher smiled at him.

 

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, look at that line again. ‘Fair to foul, foul to fair.’ What does that mean,” he asked, glasses slightly shining in the cruel fluorescent lighting. Like any high school class, the students shrunk further down into their chairs. Frowning, the teacher noticed Duo was lounging again, this time on the chairs instead of the wooden surfaces. “Duo. Please share your thoughts.”

 

“Don’t have any,” he shrugged, grinning at the teacher’s exasperation.

 

“Dumbass,” Steve, the annoying so-called ‘genius’ in front of him, muttered. As the only idiot truly stupid enough to insult Duo Maxwell, he was rated on the braided boy’s Intelligence Meter as a 2. On a scale of 1-100. Duo sighed right as the teacher did.

 

There was a knock on the door, and the English teacher quickly peeked out of the door’s built-in, reinforced window. With a stern “Don’t do anything stupid”, he walked out to do whatever teachers did in the hall.

 

“Steve walks warily down the street,
with the brim pulled way down low.
Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet,
machine guns ready to go.”

 

Duo began to sing, watching Steve’s blood slowly drain out of his face (and most likely down into his pants). Of course the idiot knew all the stories about the Maxwell boy; he was practically a legend, as the only student in the high school to have been in juvie for three months.

 

Everyone knew the reason, too, although none dared speak it where there was even a remote possibility of their topic rounding the corner. Sadistic legends could be very, very violent when being spoken of.

”Are you ready?
Are you ready for this?
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat.”

 

“Duo, relax,” Hilde finally snapped, noticing how her near-brother’s fingers had been slipping deeper into his braid. As one of the very few people who knew what the teenager actually kept in the plait, she was also one of the few who could snap at Duo without losing a finger.

 

The violet-eyed boy blinked, and his malicious grin faded into a look of bewilderment. “Sorry, Hilde,” Duo apologized. “No fighting in school. Probation. Got it.” The shorthaired tomboy nodded offhandedly, and went back to her over-analyzing of Macbeth. As an afterthought, Duo turned to look at Steve, who was huddled in his seat, looking at him with terrified brown eyes.

 

Being Duo, he smirked and went back to lounging, just as the teacher walked in with a hurried expression on his face.

 

“Mr. Maxwell, if you would join me out in the hall,” the teacher asked, and with a melodramatic sigh, Duo clambered to his feet and strode towards the door.

 

“Hey, I'm gonna get you too!
Another one bites the dust!”

 

Steve moaned as Duo sung out his chosen last refrain en transit, and with a truly vicious grin the soloist walked out of the door.

 

“Shit,” Duo cursed, and barely held himself from bolting down the hall. Standing in front of him was a disgruntled Mrs. Vermette, a confused Principal Heller, and two boys with brown hair. Strangers.

 

“Mr. Maxwell, please control your language,” Principal Heller said in that icy command she’d perfected in 17 years of dealing with annoying delinquents like him. Her eyes flicked over to the two boys. “Is this the young man you were referring to?” The shorter one, icy blue eyes scrutinizing his face, nodded slowly.

 

“Duo Maxwell,” he stated, and Duo barely suppressed a shiver, even though he couldn’t tell if it was from the chill in his tone, or just the deep purring sound of the stranger’s voice that seemed both a threat and invitation all at the same time. All contemplations were thrown away, however, when the messy-haired boy held up a very-familiar scene on a photograph.

 

His braid flying around, Duo was trotting towards the laboratory door, grinning and looking very smug.

 

“Don’t I look great in black and white,” Duo grinned, and the boy gave him a glare that could have incinerated an iceberg.

 

“I’d prefer bright orange,” he said. In any other person’s voice, it would have been a yell with how much impact the words caused around them. Still grinning, Duo shrugged.

 

“So, what? I’m in trouble for helping someone out,” he asked, and this time the taller, emerald-eyed brunette spoke up.

 

“Yes, and no,” he said quietly, and for some reason Duo was reminded of a lion asking a gazelle for a belly rub. “We’d like you to come with us. I’m Trowa Barton, and this is Dr. Heero Yuy.” Heero glared at his colleague.

 

“Well, I’m sure this will be a wonderful educational experience for Mr. Maxwell,” Principal Heller said, and Duo looked at her incredulously. “It’s fourth period. You’re free to go.” Duo shrugged, and quickly turned to his English teacher.

 

“Fair is foul, foul is fair. Contradiction, and one of the themes of Macbeth. Witches are prophets,” Duo shrugged, and quickly reentered the room to grab his stuff. As an afterthought, the braided boy winked at Steve, who whimpered.

 

“See you around,” he smirked, and walked back out. Mrs. Vermette was gone, thank God, and his English teacher had walked back in. After seeing her student return from inside the classroom, Principal Heller also turned around and returned to her office. “Can I drive?” Trowa and Heero glanced at each other, and finally Trowa spoke as they marched towards the entrance.

 

“Heero goes with you,” Trowa said, smiling faintly, and dropped behind them to avoid Heero Yuy’s wrath. Duo looked at the shorter brunette.

 

“What? You don’t have a car,” Duo asked incredulously. Heero smirked.

 

“I blew it up,” he stated. Duo glanced back at Trowa, who nodded. His jaw dropped.

 

“Shit, man, you ain’t touching NOTHING in my baby,” Duo yelled. He was extremely defensive about his car, mostly because it was his most valuable possession…well, monetarily. Heero’s smirk deepened.

 

“Who said I have to touch it,” he asked. “You solved the equation, so obviously you know more than you let on to. And I WILL make you explain yourself.” Duo stared at the shorter boy, and then switched his gaze to Trowa.

 

“Is he always this freaky,” he asked, and Trowa smiled again.

 

“Worse,” he said. Heero snorted.

 

“Go find your blonde,” he stated, and Trowa’s visible green eye glinted.

 

“I think I will,” he shrugged, just as they reached the main doors. “Be careful. I’ll catch up in two hours.” Heero nodded, and the two walked out the door.

 

x---x