The Photo Shoot
Second place in the popular vote of the Gundam Wing Addiction Fluff Contest!
Warnings: Fluff (obviously!), cruel and unusual infliction of hyper-Duo on the unsuspecting, shounen ai hints?
Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing, and since my last three hundred or so wishes on a falling star haven't come true either, I doubt I ever will.
::siiiigh, mutter:: ...still waiting for that pony...
"Why do we have to be in uniform, anyway?" Duo tugged at the collar of his Preventers jacket as he bounced up the steps of Preventer Headquarters. He was already warm despite the winter day, and how the other ex-Gundam pilots could seem so calm and cool was beyond him. Ok, Heero he could understand, Heero never showed discomfort, but the rest of them?
Then again, the rest of them weren't bouncing.
"Because they want base shots for the team records," Quatre explained, unaware that Heero'd already been over this with the braided baka twice. "It's not that bad, Duo. Just a few pictures for identification purposes. Relax." The Arabian himself was completely at ease in the dress uniform, moving as comfortably as though it were part of him. Unlike Duo, Quatre knew how to wear a suit.
"Yeah, but we're never in our uniforms on duty, so how's anyone who might go looking for us supposed to recognize us from a photo that looks nothing like we normally look like?"
Before Quatre could trap himself further in Duo's logic-game, a hand grabbed the American's braid and tugged sharply. "The jacket stays on, Duo," Heero stated quietly. "End of discussion."
Duo razzed Heero, but settled to a walk beside him, mostly because Heero still had his braid. Quatre traded an amused look with Trowa, then just shook his head. Heero'd always had a talent for settling the braided boy. Behind them, Wufei smirked, enjoying the small respite offered by Duo on a short leash.
They'd barely set foot inside when an unfamiliar voice cried out, "Oh wonderful, you're here!" The next thing they knew, a slight man with thinning hair was herding them towards one of the larger conference rooms, weaving among them, examining each of them repeatedly, and giving a running commentary all the while that rivaled Duo at his best. "They weren't kidding when they said young, now were they? Not bad though, very nice indeed - oh, no, we simply must do something about those bangs, that won't do at all. Hm, maybe something a little more casual for you, maybe lose the jacket? Nice balance overally, good blend... Haven't I seen you somewhere before? Nevermind, no one will care anyway. You should really relax, you know, that sort of stiff posture can be so unappealing. Here, see, just like the young lady, she's perfec-"
"YOUNG LADY?!?" Even Heero flinched at the outraged bellow, and the stranger hastily retreated from the offended American. Duo was glaring, hands on hips, blue-violet eyes sparkling with promised, painful retribution. He seemed to loom over them all, and the other pilots recognized the look of Shinigami on the rampage. Quatre immediately confirmed the closest exits, while Trowa and Wufei braced themselves in case things got... interesting.
The man was stammering apologies, tripping over his own tongue in an effort to prevent his imminent demise, when Heero stepped forward. He grabbed Duo's arm in one hand, gave him a single, piercing look, then moved past him into the conference room. A moment passed, then Duo dropped his stance with a huff and followed the other boy in.
The other three just traded looks. Disaster had been delayed, not averted, and they knew it.
Half of the conference room had been cleared to make room for the two huge lights, half-dozen smaller ones, several stools, and camera tripod. Another round of looks was traded, this time slightly confused. This was a bit much for just some base ID photos, wasn't it? The photographer seemed to be recovering from his encounter with Shinigami, though they all noticed he kept a fair distance from Duo as he directed them towards the stools. Which meant, of course, that Duo was standing at his shoulder every time he turned around. Quatre was struggling not to laugh each time the poor man jumped, and Wufei's dark eyes glowed with something that might have been sadistic delight. Ok, so it was a little cruel, but the man was extraordinarily fussy and it was starting to get on their nerves!
"How long will this take, anyway?" Duo asked, startling the photographer yet again. The man gave him a quick look, then hastily turned his attention to setting the camera.
"We're on a pretty tight schedule, but it's a simple shoot. With any luck we'll be done in under two hours."
TWO HOURS?!?
Bewilderment was almost immediately replaced by apprehension as Duo's soft chuckle sounded. "Two hours, huh? Well, we'll see what we can do to accomidate that, right guys?"
Quatre reminded himself forcefully that he was a trained fighter and Gundam pilot. He'd gone into battles at thirty-to-one odds and walked away. There was no reason to be afraid of one overactive field agent with a sadistic streak!
Behind him, Trowa stepped a bit closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. The green-eyed boy leaned down slightly and murmurred, "I give it twenty minutes, tops."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trowa's sense of timing proved to be astoundingly accurate. Twenty minutes later the photographer was close to tears and the rest of them were torn between laughter and annoyance. Except Duo, who was sitting on his stool with an air of eager innocence. It would have been bad enough if Duo'd simply decided to make faces at the camera or something silly like that. But no, he had to get creative...
No one was quite sure how he'd managed to get all the lights to turn off when the shutter snapped. and there was the slight chance that it had been an accident when his stool had overturned, taking the whole row with it. Very slight. Wufei now refused to sit, leaning against the stool instead so he'd have a chance at dodging whatever the long-haired brat did next. The photographer was muttering under his breath non-stop as he double-checked the angles of the lights, that all the plugs were secure, and that nothing else had somehow gotten smeared on his lense. Finally assured that yes, this time nothing could go wrong, he crouched behind the camera. "All right then, hold those poses, very good... one... two..."
"YIPE!"
Duo and Wufei were both instantly on their feet, Wufei to dodge another runaway stool, Duo to glare indignantly at Heero. Quatre glanced back at Trowa, nonplussed. Duo'd already done blatant inturruption, it wasn't like him to repeat a trick.
"Now what happened?" the photographer sighed, his head buried in his hands and shoulders shaking suspiciously.
"He pinched me!"
Quatre's eyebrows shot up as he followed the line of Duo's accusing finger to the Japanese pilot. Heero hadn't moved when the braided baka'd jumped, and even now only the slight raise of one eyebrow acknowleged Duo's claim. A bit of a stretch, even for Duo, he thought. Then Trowa nudged him, directing his attention to Wufei.
The young dragon had his back to the whole affair, one arm crossed over his chest, the other hand smothering a quiet coughing fit.
Realizing the balance of reputation and circumstantial evidence was definitely against him, Duo glared at them all and reclaimed his seat. Heero murmurred something, too quiet for the rest of them to catch, but whatever it was seemed to cheer Duo up. "Now stay still," he ordered, giving the chestnut braid a light tug in emphasis. He kept the braid taut as they all settled, as though he meant to hold the othery boy down by it.
"If we're all ready then." The photographer took a last breath to steady himself. "Right then, one... two... three!"
Duo's hand jerked slightly, almost a tossing motion. There was a pop from the camera flash, then a louder one as one of the lightbulbs exploded! The five agents scrambled clear of flying glass while the photographer just stood there, horrorstricken. Then he collapsed with an anguished wail, sobbing unashamedly on the floor. Duo wore an unholy grin of satisfaction as he quickly palmed something off the floor.
"What the hell is-" The door opened and Noin froze in the doorway, confusion clear on her face. "What are you guys doing in here?"
"Team record photos," came Duo's cheerful reply.
Noin blinked. "Team record - oh damn." She leaned against the doorframe, shaking her head, one hand covering her face. "I knew this was a bad idea, I just knew it."
Now it was the pilots' turn to look confused. "Not that I'm disagreeing," Duo ventured, "but why do you think it was a bad idea?"
She lifted her head to shoot Duo a dirty look. "The file photos are taking place in conference room 12. This is the shoot for the recruitment posters."
"Recruitment posters?!"
"Yes. Which we certainly don't want featuring some of our best undercover operatives." Her eyes fell on the collapsed cameraman. "I was coming to tell you that the models are running late."
Another wail was his only response. Noin opened her mouth, paused, and really took in the state of the room. Thin shards of glass scattered around, a grown man sobbing on the floor, a delighted-looking Duo. Without a word, she turned on her heel and marched down the hall. She didn't want to know.
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