PAIRING: The usual, with the main focus on 1x2. Of course.

STATUS: FFVII crossover. *deep breathe* Ahh. Smell the crossovery goodness in the air. *wrinkles her nose* Eww. What’s _that_?

WARNING: Heero gets a sense of sadistic humor. There might be more, but I rarely make an outline to fit a fic. So I’m playing this by ear. Like I do with everything else in my life. ^___^ I’m so gooooood...

The Chosen

Kel

Part 4/?

//”It sounds like... wind.”//

//“Hai. That’s what I hear too. But... I hear the wind SAYING something.”//

//”They’re coming...”//

Static.

“So that’s when you lost contact with your pals?” Reno asked as if bored, his eyelids lowered as he scrutinized his nails in a feminine manner, huffing on them and rubbing them lightly in his jacket. He and the kid–he still didn’t know the kid’s name–had been listening to the last entry made over the comm. Reno was at a loss for most of the things said, but he got the gist of it. “I’ve never heard of a ‘Gundam’ before. It’s as big as a WEAPON, you know. Except more humanish.”

“That isn’t a word.”

“Whatever. Look, the only answer I have to your issue is that you take it up with Reeve and his band of merry heroes. They specialize in this sort of stuff. I’m just the lackey that used to be the bad guy.”

“I never asked for your help,” responded the boy coldly, fixing cold Prussian eyes on him. The boy was tense again; his trigger-finger twitched as if he desperately wished he hadn’t put down his gun. For a while they simply stared each other day, ex-assassin against young-assassin. With a dry snort born of cynicism, the redhead New Turk smirked at the younger boy cocky like.

“Ya’ didn’t need to,” he replied lightly yet in a tone that wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Look, I bet your pals are spread all over the place. You can’t go looking for them in this monster right here,” he slapped the gundanium, and the boy narrowed his eyes with a spark of anger. Really, it was just a piece of weaponry. It was nothing for the boy to throw a fit over... “It would cause too much trouble. Let Strife and his friends help you search. They have an airship that’s the fastest on the Planet. They’ve also been all over the place. Mideel, Rocket Town, Nibelhiem, you name it, they’ve been there at least twice.”

The boy was quiet, taking his time to make a decision. Reno, never being a patient person, began to tap his foot lightly on the ground with crossed arms, showing exactly what he thought of having to wait. Finally the boy, “Hn,”ed and turned around to climb his Gundam.

“Am I to assume that’s a yes?” Reno called up, already taking out his phone to call up a ship to carry the Gundam and a few passengers via PHS.

“Assume what you would like,” the slightly muscular boy stated carelessly, disappearing into his Gundam. With a grin, Reno got right to calling up that ship. Looked like his vacation was completely ruined, anyway.

“Oh, no... Don’t tell me you guys think we’re totally on the wrong planet, too?”

Quatre blinked, obviously surprised by the sudden outburst from the braided pilot. Thinking the only logical choice, he looked at the apparently annoyed Chinese pilot. “You, too?”

Wufei sighed and nodded. “Duo refuses to admit what I say is true. I saw a dinosaur turning a group of travelers to stone. Duo insists he never ran into any problems coming here, even though we’ve seen potions, weapons, marbles that people claim create things like ice and fire. That braided baka still thinks it’s all a big tradition around here to play hoaxes on new comers.”

“Giant chickens that are treated more like horses and cows?” Quatre asked hopefully. Wufei blinked and shook his head in the negative. Duo’s eyes, however, doubled in size.

“Say what?” he asked slowly, staring at Quatre liked the blond had grown an extra head or something. Quatre wouldn’t make something so stupid up. It just wasn’t _Quatre_. So if the blond angel was going along with this stuff... “Holy shit. You guys are damn serious!”

“It would be wise to keep your voice down,” Trowa murmured as his eyes swept over the early morning diners of the quaint little bar they found themselves in. “There isn’t enough noise in here to drown our words from prying ears.”

“Ah. Gotcha,” Duo claimed uneasily, shifting in his seat like he had ants in his pants. “So. What now? How do we know Heero’s even here? How are we supposed to find him if he is? And the most important question... How are we supposed to get home?”

“Heero’s here alright,” Quatre confirmed easily, clutching one fist over his heart. “I can feel it. He’s getting closer, too, but he’s also far away. I think if we wait here we’d be able to catch him.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “If we can find out why we were brought here, perhaps we can appease this person and he or she can send us back. Something about someone coming, ne?”

“You’re saying that if we can find out who’s coming and what this guy wants us to do with them, we can find a way home?” Duo nodded, pleased. “That’s what I like about you, man. You make the hardest thing understandable in layman’s terms. So how do we go about doing this little number?”

“Whoever brought us here wanted you in particular,” Trowa added his two cents in a quiet murmur. “We could hear the ‘wind’ coming from your cockpit only, and you seemed to become totally blind and deaf to our words. What exactly happened, anyway?”

Duo blinked. Twice. “Uhhh...”

“Maxwell doesn’t remember anything,” Wufei claimed silently. “He thought that the fact he was in a pattern while fighting managed to get him injured. The last thing he remembers is facing off one of the last Leos.”

“Gee, thanks, Wu-man,” Duo put in drily. “I didn’t think I could answer that one myself.”

“You’re more than welcome, Maxwell.”

“Tifa!”

The boys were finishing their breakfast when the loud voice boomed in the nearly empty restaurant, causing them to turn in the intruder’s direction slightly in order to see the possible threat. In the doorway stood two older men, one possibly a pilot from the looks of the goggles and the flight jacket. He had blonde hair and an unshaven face, just lighting up a cigarette to smoke. His comrade, the one they assumed yelled, was of African-American decent, bulky and most likely slow. He had a wicked tattoo on one arm and a gun grafted in the same arm. The other carried a long staff, almost twice his height.

The owner of the little bar, Tifa, came out from the back and smiled at the two benevolently. “Hi, Barret. Cid.”

“Hey, girl,” the blonde said gruffly over his cigarette, both walking closer to the bar. “Did ya hear? That damn Turk’s comin’ back from vacation early.”

The four boys turned back to their food, chewing slowly yet casually as they listened in on the conversation. Eaves-dropping was only unacceptable unless it helped one in some way. This was simply precaution.

“No, actually,” she replied after a second. “Why? He’s been begging Reeve for a vacation for weeks now!”

“Well, ‘dis ‘da serious part,” replied the black man in a deep drawl. “Turk-boy say he found a WEAPON landed near Costa Del Sol. ‘Dis one had a pilot come from it.”

The four pilots paused for a second, surprised. Could they be talking about Heero? Was this Turkish guy bringing him to the town? Duo grinned in excitement and relief, taking a deep breath before biting into his eggs... Well, it looked like eggs...

“That’s funny...” Tifa mused, not seeming at all surprised. “Did he mention the pilot’s age?” Trowa and Wufei both placed one lax hand at their sides, patting the guns they had stuffed in their pants. The girl must have suspected something; why else would she question the two men on the “pilot’s” age?

“Jus’ kept callin’ ‘im a kid, s’all,” the black man replied smoothly. “Why? Sumin’ ‘matter?”

“... It’s nothing. I’ll talk about it when I’m sure what happened last night really happened.” The long haired beauty chewed her lip attentively, as if in deep thought over an important matter. Duo took this time to break the silence with a loud, wide yawn that not only drew the attention of the other three pilots–a glare from Wufei, a dull look from Trowa, and a quiet reprehending look from Quatre–but also of the bar owner and her two male friends. With a blush born of years of practice, Duo lowered his head as if he was a child with his hand found in a cookie jar.

“Eheheh,” he chuckled nervously. “‘Scuse me.” Turning to the other guys, he winked. “C’mon, we need to get going. Heero could be arriving at rendezvous any time now. If we aren’t around when Hee-chan comes calling, there _will_ be hell to pay.”

“Baka.”

“Oi, it got us out of there, didn’t it?”

“I agree with Trowa,” Wufei murmured with a slight teasing tone. “You _are_ a baka.”

“Nani? Quatre?” The braided Shinigami fixed the angelic blonde with a rather virtuous yet pleading look. “You don’t think I’m a baka, do you?”

“Saa... we could have just paid and walked out like normal people, Duo,” Quatre admitted.

“Yeah, but if they knew that we knew that they _almost_ knew who we know is Heero, they would have known and would have expected us to leave right after the delivered the knew–I mean-news. So by leaving with courteous gratitude and ideal chitchat, we prevented them from knowing that we knew that Heero was actually the pilot found in the weapon.”

There was a long pause in the conversation.

“He has a point...” Trowa stated calmly.

“Albeit a small one,” added Wufei.

“But a point nonetheless,” Quatre put in sagely.

Duo preened. This is, of course, when all added in chorus, “You’re still a baka, though.” Duo Maxwell was still seething over that one after they got back to the New Midgar Inn.

“‘Dey know somethin’.”

“No disagreement there,” Cid drawled as he took a breath of tobacco smoke with burned paper and lightly blew all of it back out again. “The question is, what the hell _do_ they know?”

“They know the identity of the other pilot, that’s what,” Tifa murmured, flipping the “CLOSED” sign over to indicate an early closing. “I bumped into one of them late last night, I think. I remember seeing the braid on...” She shook her head, sighing. “Well, thing is that his eyes weren’t the same color and his voice wasn’t the same. It was like... someone we know from the past possessed the boy and came to warn me.”

Barret and Cid exchanged looks, both echoing their thoughts on the matter. “Was it Buggienham?” Cid asked lowly, even though the place was empty save for them.

“No...” Tifa shook her head. “He said they were coming. That’s all. And he also said that the young men he ‘sent’ here would help us with ‘them’. Yuffie came in yesterday claiming she followed the braided boy here from a huge WEAPON that he apparently piloted.”

“Who was ‘dis guy, Tif? Was he Sephiroth?” Barret demanded harshly, his gun arm shaking at the memory of the crazed General. He liked Sephiroth just as much as he liked a Shinra. Six feet under and frying in Hell.

“... No, actually, it was Rufus Shinra.”

Cid’s cigarette dropped from his mouth and Barret nearly bowled over at the news. “WHAT?!”

“We’re here,” Reno sang out as they rode into town later that day on giant chickens. Heero snorted at the redhead’s antics as he studied the small town.

“This is your world’s capital? It’s smaller than Junon,” Heero deadpanned without a second glance, shooting a look toward the New Turk. With a shrug the redhead smirked.

“This is NEW Midgar. The old Midgar was destroyed by Meteor, and this one’s just started rebuilding.”

“Hn.”

“Y’know, you can relax,” Reno suggested hopefully. “I mean, we’re not heading for the President’s office yet. We have a stop to get to first.”

Heero frowned, shooting it toward the redheaded New Turk. The lanky man didn’t catch it apparently. “Where?”

“Ah, you know... A place here, a place there... A local bar...”

Heero snorted, turning away from the alcoholic. “Figures.”

“Hey, it’s important!” the New Turk defended. “Relax!”

“I will do no such thing until I talk to President Reeve,” Heero said brusquely as he followed Reno’s example and dismounted the giant... Chocobo. That’s what it was called, he believed...

“Ma~an! Why did I have to get stuck with a pugnacious little punk?” Reno whined, seemingly to the Heavens itself. “That’s Elena’s job...”

“Hn. Why did you have to be a vexatious fool?” Heero retorted frankly, fixing Reno with one of his dead smirks. “That’s Duo’s job.”

“Oh-ho! I see that Mr. Perfect DOES have a sense of humor after all.” Reno smirked provokingly, egging on, “So why the change all of a sudden?”

“... Must be all the exposure to idiocy,” remarked the Japanese boy flatly.

Reno paused in front of a dining establishment, a look filtering across his face. “Hey, was that supposed to be directed toward me?”

//And every other baka out there.// “Need I answer that?” he said instead.

There was a pregnant pause before the red haired New Turk muttered darkly, “Little pipsqueak.” Heero didn’t even bite at the baited comment, instead he looked around the town once again. It was homely, he had to admit. Small houses filled with families lined the first of the streets, followed by the center of town, made up of stores and weapon merchants. Also those merchandisers selling the seemingly meaningless yet highly overpriced marbles of different colors. But in the center, Heero could see the somewhat modest establishment, still under construction, that made up the company that owned the town.

Unfortunately, the redhead was walking in the wrong direction. With a snort, the Japanese boy followed the New Turk with a flat look heavy on his handsome features. He saw their destination–-a place that looked more like a decent restaurant than the seedy bars he was used to seeing.

“Yo!” called the lanky New Turk when he entered, waving nonchalantly as he took a seat at the bar. Heero followed him slowly, analyzing the place. Inside it wasn’t smoke-filled like he expected. The walls were an off-white color and the seats at the bar was apple red. The booths’ seats were the same color, as were the single chairs placed at the speckled tables matching the bar. The only inclination that it was, in fact, a bar was the fact Reno dropped in (Oh, yes, Heero was VERY familiar with this routine...)and there was a wall filled with all sorts of bottled items and a door leading to the kitchen.

The girl behind the counter was a pretty brown-haired girl with brown eyes and clothes that seemed to only cover the bare essential. If Heero didn’t know better, he could have sworn she had a boo–

“Reno,” she greeted warmly, yet somewhat restrained. “You’re back early. What’s up?”

“Like you don’t know,” Reno grinned. Without a glance he slapped the seat beside him and motioned for Heero to sit. “We’re gonna be here for a while, brat.”

Heero took the seat two away from him, giving him a disapproving look before his eyes flickered over the ‘homely’ bar again.

“You see what I had to put up with aaalllll the way here?” he whined to the bartender, waving his arms in exaggeration. “The kid is a war monger, through and through! If it don’t got nothing to do with what his ‘personal mission’ then he doesn’t have pay attention. Brat!”

“I bet you just have a low tolerance for anyone ignoring you outright,” the bartender commented woefully. Heero snorted in dry humor, signaling to the woman his agreement with the thought. The New Turk pouted for a short while before the bartender replied just WHO gave him the booze around New Midgar, and he relented by ordering a special.

“My name’s Tifa,” she said to the boy after serving his whiny traveling partner. “Do you want anything?”

“Hn... no thanks.”

“Look, look! There he is!”

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Maxwell.”

“Well.... how do we make him notice us without LOOKING like we’re trying to get him to notice us?”

“Do you have an idea, Trowa?”

“... Wufei.”

The Chinese boy caught the other pilot’s stare, understood the significance, and grinned ferally while popping his knuckles threateningly.

“Ryoukai.”

“Wha–-?”

**WHACK!**

“ITAI!”

“By the Ancients!” Tifa exclaimed when four familiar boys walked through her doors, two of them supporting the friendly braided boy between them while said braided boy clutched his nose in pain, whimpering while blood dripped from his hands. With butterflies in her stomach, she glanced at the boy that came in with Reno.

Nothing. Just a flicker of interest in the situation and nothing more. //There goes that theory,// she sighed mentally, walking from behind the counter while the boys sat the braided one in a chair.

“Ow... my dose...” he mourned pitifully, tipping his head backwards as he still held his nose. “Why’d y’go an’ do dat, Wu-mad...?”

“What happened?” she asked as she kneeled beside the occupied chair, noting the blood and the somewhat smug look trying to be smothered along the Wutainese boy’s face. The blond boy appeared to be holding back his laughter to keep the braided one happier than anything else. The green eyed boy... Well, it was hard to tell with him.

“Poor Duo,” the blond choked on scuffled chuckles. “He ran into a door Wufei was opening.”

The Wutainese boy shrugged composedly, a satisfied look in his ebony eyes. “The fool is accident prone.” This was said as if it explained it all.

//I bet.// “Duo, let me see your nose, okay?”

The braided one slowly uncovered the apparently broken appendage. Unfortunate for him, he seemed to realize that before he even walked into the bar. “Id broken, idn’t id?”

“Hn.” Before Tifa could even reply, the other boy was beside her, grinning –-yes, _grinning_, though not very pleasantly–-as he cracked his knuckles, placed a gentle hand on the other boy’s nose, and...

**CRACK!**

“ITAI!” the braided one howled, jumping up and propelling the chair he was sitting in backwards. He glared death at the smirking boy, snarling, “I can understand you setting your own damn leg, Mr. Perfect, but I NEVER gave you permission to set my NOSE, you Japanese PSYCHO!”

The boy’s smirk widened. “Aa.”

“Aa?! That’s all you got to say? Aa??”

All of a sudden the ‘Japanese’ boy’s face was wiped clean of all emotion, followed by a toneless reply of, “Your whining would become insufferable. Left any long as was and it could have possibly become a permanent pain to you, thus distracting you from any future mission.”

“Love you too, koi,” Duo mumbled woefully, lightly rubbing one finger along the line of his nose. “Everyone picks on the joker. Trowa hits me, Wufei hits me, hell, Heero hits me and sets the broken bones back into place with his bare hands! The only one who HASN’T hit me is Quatre, and HE usually laughs about it before helping me with injuries!” Pouting, he sighed. “I’m so unloved...”

Reno had been looking between pilot after pilot, a thoughtful look on his face as he claimed, “So these are your partners, brat?”

There was a silent pause as the situation began to become more focused for everyone. Four pilots couldn’t believe the ‘failed’ a mission as simple as this, and Heero simply shrugged with an indifferent look on his face.

“Yes,” he said bluntly. “These are my fellow pilots.”

Tifa nodded sagely. Now to make sense of it all....

Kel: The story is dying... I can feel it slipping through my fingers.... I don’t know what to do next! *teary eyed look*

Duo: *waps he with the Wand of Inspiration* I hate leaving something unfinished. Ne, Heero?

Heero: *dangerous look* Mission incomplete. *holds out a self-destruct button threateningly*

Kel: Aa... aa... *paniced look* Aa, whaddya know? I suddenly have inspiration! *runs off* C&C welcome!

Sephy: *strange look* That thing works?

Duo: Nah... It’s been on the fritz recently... *sparks emit from it as proof*