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Justice Through Juvenile Delinquency

Lys ap Adin

As with most escapades of its ilk, it all began with an overindulgence in the fruits of the grainfield.

Which is to say, all five gundam pilots were more than a little buzzed off of beer when Duo had his Great Idea. "Y'know what would be pretty damn funny?" he slurred, gesticulating with his beer bottle for emphasis.

He was ignored, mostly. Wufei was scowling into his beer, lost in his own private thoughts. Heero had approached the concept of drinking with as much concentration as he reserved for any mission, and was currently swaying from side to side in his seat with an out-of-it expression on his face. Quatre and Trowa--were snuggling. Enthusiastically. Without a care for any spectators.

Duo sighed heavily, and tried again. "I just thought of a really great mission," he announced.

Heero blinked owlishly at him. "Ninmu?"

Duo grinned, gratified to have a listener. "I wanna TP Treize's place."

Wufei's head jerked up sharply. "What did you say?"

Duo smirked. This was great! Two people paying attention to him at once! "I said, I wanna go to OZ headquarters and plaster the bastards with toilet paper."

"Ninmu ryoukai," Heero intoned, slugging back another gulp of beer.

Something dark, unholy, and gleeful sparkled in Wufei's dark eyes. "It would be... justice," he agreed.

Heero stood up, and wobbled a few steps. He poked at Quatre and Trowa, who had progressed beyond snuggling and were now making out. "Oi. We have a mission," he told Quatre.

Quatre made a face. "Demo, do you know how hard it is to get him in the mood?!" he protested, pointing a Trowa. "Damn it, I was gonna get some!"

"Hn. Save it for later," Heero grunted.

Quatre pouted, and poked Trowa in the shoulder. "Remember where we left off," he commanded.

"C'mon, let's go," Wufei said impatiently, also standing.

"To the gundams?" Quatre asked, having missed most of the conversation that had spawned the "mission."

Duo grinned. "No, to the store. We have to get supplies for the mission first."

"Do you think we'll have enough?" Duo asked dryly, surveying the cart full of toilet paper.

Heero eyed the pile of rolls with a critical--though drunk--eye. "This should be adequate for the mission," he replied.

Wufei tossed a plastic bag into the cart; it clinked and rattled slightly. Trowa lifted an eyebrow at the bag. Wufei shrugged. "Extra supplies... for just in case."

Quatre peered in. "Anou... why do we need toilet paper and spray paint for a mission again?"

Duo grinned. "We'll explain it to you later, Quatre... Now, on to OZ!"

"Ne, Wufei? How come you know so much about infiltrating OZ bases?" Quatre asked.

Wufei flushed, and was glad of the concealing darkness of the night. "Let's just say I had a mission to penetrate OZ defenses and leave it at that."

Duo chuckled softly. "Was it very hard, Wu-man?"

"Shut up, Maxwell."

"Enough chatter." Heero handed his companions their packages of toilet paper and can of spray paint. "Complete your objective and rendezvous at the safehouse at dawn."

"Hey, Trowa, if we both get done early, we can pick up where we left off a while ago," Quatre whispered.

"Geez, and I thought *I* was horny sometimes," Duo muttered, melting into the darkness.

"Surely you're joking, Corporal." Treize stared at the underling, Corporal Expendable, and waited expectantly for the affirmative answer.

"No, sir, I swear I'm not! Come and see for yourself!"

Treize sighed and followed the man outside. He stopped, and stared in amazement.

The OZ compound was divided into five approximately equal areas. The first area had been TPed methodically, the white strips wrapped evenly around bushes and trees and fluttering in strips of equal length from every surface. Graffiti had been sprayed on the walls in large block letters that wobbled ever so slightly.

"Treize o korosu."
"Zechs o korosu."
"Une o korosu."
"OZ o korosu."
"Omae o korosu."

Then, as if the artist had run out of things to say--or people to threaten--the litany began anew.

The second sector was considerably more chaotic and elaborately done. Toilet paper wound crazily through tree branches, dripping off the branches in unequal streamers. The graffiti was much more interesting, as well, sprawling across the wall in an ungainly scrawl.

"Shinigami wuz here."
"For a good time, call Une."
"2 (heart) 1."
"Khushrenada's mother was a hamster and his father smelled of elderberries."
"The Lightning Count bleaches his roots."
"Treize plucks his eyebrows."
"Beware the atomic chipmunks."
"Do *you* know where my socks go when I put them in the dryer?"

Treize shook his head and surveyed the third area of destruction. He blinked. "How on earth could anyone get toilet paper that far up in a tree?"

"Must have been a god-damned acrobat, sir," the corporal supplied helpfully.

"And an excellent artist," Treize added, viewing the well-rendered mural of lions now adorning the facade of the base.

He turned to the fourth sector, and couldn't resist a chuckle. The rolls of toilet paper had merely been removed from the package and threaded onto a branch. On the wall, there was a single message.

"This mission sucks. I'm going home to have sex with my boyfriend."

And then there was the final area.

For a moment, Treize couldn't *see* any of the trees or buildings for the blizzard of white obscuring his vision. Someone had gone to quite a bit of trouble to cover *everything* with a secure layer of toilet paper. Finally, Treize manage to catch a glimpse of the only word written on the wall.


Wufei smirked in satisfaction. "That'll teach Treize to two-time his boyfriend," he muttered, feeling vindicated.



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