This will more or less just be a collection of silly, (Believe me when I say that) short cosplaying (and cross-playing) tales. Most of them gone wrong.

Warnings: Slash. Gratuitous use of over-used plot (I think?). Ellipses. Random as hell. And I wrote the first chapter during class people, soooooo... don't expect much? But review and tell me I'm weird anyway?

Well, this is a break in a long winter of writer's block, however strange it is. Hopefully I'll be able to finish up some other stuff soon /Cough/Wicked/cough/ and throw some new ficlets out there too. Because this section needs more RMX!

And oh yeah, I don't own the characters portrayed in this fic.

Chapter 1: Because it had to be done eventually

Mercenaries are, to an extent, suicidal.

Of course, ask any one of them and they'll say that they take on the job because of excitement, because of the thrill, and that the danger only adds to it all.

Threat of Death is exciting, equals I want to take the risk that I'll die, equals I'm really suicidal thank youuuuuuu…

Or at least, that's what Alia preached every time she found out he was doing something idiotic and possibly life threatening. (Aww, he always knew she cared. Now if he could just snag her cell number…) In fact, he'd heard her admonishing voice in his ear when he'd first set eyes on the outfit and it had just HIT him.

…Much like he was sure she would.

"…Dynamo," Alia didn't even blink, both hands currently pulling the mouth-piece off her ear. With an over-dramatic sigh, she placed it down on her desk and stretched her arms up over her head, never once gracing him with a look. "What are you doing here?"

"Just waiting for a certain blonde to get off work." The quote-on-quote, "charming" grin was wasted as she didn't even look back, idly closing computer programs while humming contently to herself.

"I thought Zero was still tormenting his unit?"

"Ha ha, do you want to grab something at the cafeteria or not?"

She graced him with a smile, still taking her time.

In this case, he wasn't even seeking his death. He'd just thought she'd look 'interesting' –insert air quotations- in it. And she always acted so holier-than-thou in her spotter gear (Even if it DID have some nice views) so how could anyone blame him for wanting her to loosen up a little?

So needless to say, when Alia –finally- started moving her hands towards her de-armor command, he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to look as innocent as possible (something no one thought him capable of) as his fingers tightened around the camera in his coat pocket.

Even he would admit it wasn't one of his better pranks to date, but he was saving his energy for the big Halloween fest coming up in a few weeks and this was enough to keep him sated until then.

Probably.

Possibly.

…Maybe he'd look into rigging Signas' office with the exploding pumpkins a week early.

A bright flash of light announced the moment of truth, and he blinked until it cleared, the startled yelp that Alia gave out no louder than his own.

He was rewarded by his brooding dragon decked out in torn shorts and a dark blue tank top. It went without saying that he was lost, startled, and more than a little disappointed.

At least for a split second, until the memory of WHO had been wearing that particular ensemble smacked into him at about ninety miles an hour and left him for dead.

Can anyone say 'blackmail opportunity'?

Dynamo let out a stream of evil laughter. You know, the deep, throaty laugh that people use when they're up to something evil?

Mwaahahaha!

He ignored the fact that Alia was calling the med-lab for a straight jacket in favor of running towards the practice hall.

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Most people would agree that it's a rare occasion to see X in a homicidal mood. (That was more Zero's thing.)

Oh, he had the half-hearted glares that he could hold for all of about two seconds before breaking into a smile, and the occasional glare of death, but the glance-at-me-the-wrong-way-and-DIE look was just normally seen. In fact, he had his homicidal tirade about once a year, and that was that. (Hunter work didn't count. He wasn't in a homicidal mood then either anyway) Done, over with, and everyone was safe for another 365 days –at least!- and could breathe a sigh of relief.

Someone had broken that rule and upset the natural balance of the universe.

In other words, someone was going to die. Then be rebuilt so X could smack them over the head with an over-stuffed plush!

"Zero," X started in his sweetest, most pleasant tone, his underlying mood betrayed by the fact that his left cheek was twitching around the corner of his mouth. And even if he hadn't been able to read that, there seemed to be an aura in the air, tingling in X's immediate vicinity as a silent warning: Not a happy pacifist.

And an unhappy pacifist was not very pacifistic at all…

Even then, not too bad. It could have just been a sign of stress; in fact, it had been a normal sign that Axl was in the area until recently. So how did everyone know that X was getting ready to snap any second now?

…It might have been the blue skirt. Or maybe it was the white button-up shirt with the blue ribbon. Or maybe it was just the knee-high socks and the little black buckle shoes.

Most people were thinking it was a combination.

But maybe, just maybe, it had been the flash of a camera before a trail of bluish hair turned a corner when X had de-armored.

Oh, the horrified shriek had reached the opposite end of the base.

...Alia was a Spotter with no apparent weapon systems and therefore, Dynamo knew he would get away alive. X was a Hunter with his own brand-name Buster. One would think that that would deter him from doing something so suicidal.

…oh wait. It's Dynamo, 'nuff said.

"Yes X?"

"Saber. Now." And how could he refuse such a violent request? He grinned, hoping it hadn't turned mischievous/lecherous (He'd died enough times, thank you) and tried not to stare at the cross-playing Hunter. Not that he wouldn't be allowed to normally, mind, but Zero didn't want to volunteer himself as an outlet at the moment.

…Unless it involved the schoolgirl outfit entirely, thank you.

"X, maybe you should let me…"

"Hell no! I want his head!" His eyes were ablaze with determination and he even shook his fists when as said it. In fact, the only thing ruining the cuteness of the moment were the words which somehow sounded completely wrong coming out of X's mouth.

"But if you run after him, your skirt will flare up." The logic of the statement hit home and broke X from his violent tirade as he let out a self-conscious squeak, both hands going to the hem of the skirt to pull it down as far as it would go.

Which wasn't all that far, now that Zero looked; stared like it was candy; poked at the material with his finger before he could help himself and was gawked at and smacked upside the head for.

"Then what do you suggest?!" X demanded, frowning up at him and inadvertently giving Zero a view down his top.

…Not that it mattered. X was, despite popular belief supported by random leaves of absence and a slightly high pitch voice, a guy. Not only that, but he was a guy with almost no apparent muscle tone, making him even flatter.

So of course there was nothing to see.

…

Then why were his eyes fighting for just a little look?!

It had to be the school-girl thing, the bane of all men, be them straight, bi or even gay; he blamed it on the uniform.

"Weeeeeeeeeell." X did not like that grin. He never liked that grin, it was always a sign that Zero was going to do something that would make him die of shame but wouldn't be enough to assassinate him for.

And here Zero paused, because there seemed to be a language barrier between him and most people at times, and he knew this would be one of them. So 'I'll just carry you' would translate to 'I'm going to sling you over my shoulder like a cave-man and carry you down the halls for people to gawk at' to X and a few other people in the area.

So after a few moments of trying to find a safe way to translate it, he shrugged, figured he'd win out in the end anyway and went with it.

One arm under X's knees, the other supporting his back, and his ear being yelled off ("What the HELL are you DOING?!") and he was jogging down the halls, a smirk on his face as X started to repeat a litany in his mind; I'm a pacifist, can't kill him, have to save it for that goddamned pika-chu wanna-be, I'm a pacifist, can't kill him…

Ooh, Dynamo had added perfume for effect. "Hey, you smell good. Vanilla and Nutmeg?"

…I could just hurt him a little, he'd survive it… At this point in time, Zero was on the receiving line of a look he'd been graced with several times, sadly. It was the one that screamed, the-only-reason-you're-still-alive-right-now-is-because-I-love-you-and-even-then-you're-pushing-it-buster! "...I am not going to justify that with a response." X wriggled uncomfortably as Zero nuzzled his neck and looked elsewhere as random Hunters in the crowd looked on with raised eyebrows, dropped jaws and worse, giggles.

"God I hate fangirls." He whined, fighting the urge to elbow Zero in the side when he laughed.

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A/N: As a matter of fact, before you ask, no I am not sane. :P The next one will be Halloween related and yes, I know that Halloween is already past… I just had a bunch of junk to get done. But I want Axl running around as Little Red Riding Hood, dang it, so it must be written!