By The 41st Magaunac
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Note: This fic has nothing to do with Buffy. There are no characters from the show in this piece of fiction, I have merely borrowed a few ideas from the show, and that is all. So, don't expect to see the famed blonde leap out from behind a rock with a crossbow, okay?
The braided youth gazed indifferently of the sea of faces before him, his face expressionless, his eyes betraying nothing. Another town, another school, it was always the same. He didn't expect he'd be very long at this one either. He hated the way the jocks glared at him because he was a little skinny, he hated the way the so-called 'fashionable crowd' took in his Priest's collar and black clothes and dismissed him as a potential friend. He hated the way that every other member of the class seemed to be trying to put him into some kind of 'category'.
He hated it, but he didn't care enough to do anything about it. Duo Maxwell was like that.
He could hear the almost pitifully whiny voice of his teacher going on monotonously behind him, the mumbling of the students as they discussed him amongst themselves, saying his name as though churning it around in their mouths to see how it tasted, and judging him.
Duo Maxwell hated being judged.
As far as he was concerned, God would judge them all in the end, and though he was convinced that he would go to Hell, at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that this lot would all go there with him.
"And I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends here, Mr. Maxwell. This is a very lively class…"
Duo Maxwell scowled.
Duo Maxwell didn't need friends. He had long since given up on this boring and pointless waste of time. He was never at a school long enough to need friends. Duo Maxwell was a 'problem child'.
Headmasters galore had said it, psychiatrists had said it, child psychologists had said it, a whole host of policemen and firemen had said it. Even his own mother at one time or another had admitted that he was a 'demon seed'. Trouble followed him around like flies to rotting flesh, and he enjoyed it. Yes, Duo Maxwell and Trouble were good friends.
"…You may take your seat there, Mr. Maxwell, and the class will begin."
Duo sauntered to his seat, slung his bag on to it, then sat down in his chair, emptying the bag of his books before dumping it on the floor with a loud thud. The teacher seemed oblivious to his attempt at irritating her, and went back to her writing on the blackboard.
//Well, this is boring as shit,// thought Duo as he looked around at the students around him. The jocks were messing about at the back and firing spitballs at some poor blonde kid who was desperately trying to get on with his work. The 'fashionable people' were pretending to study while glancing through beauty magazines, and everyone else was either sleeping or working.
Duo sat considering the 101 possible methods he could use to annoy both his teacher and his classmates, but he had promised his mother to try and get through one day without causing any trouble. He didn't mean to cause trouble. It just kind of… happened.
Holding himself back from the chaos he wanted to cause, Duo idly kicked at his desk leg and watched the seconds of the lesson tick by until finally the bell chimed, signalling that first period was over. He swept all his books back into his bag and was on the way to the door when a spitball hit him square in the back of his head. He spun around, glaring at the perpetrator, a bright red-headed boy, dressed in a letterman jacket, displaying to all the world that he was a) a jock and b) a prat.
"What the Hell's your problem?" yelled Duo with a sneer. The teacher, who was still at her desk, looked up sharply at him, but he didn't notice.
"Hey there, girly locks, wanna be my date for the dance?" mocked the young man. His comment was followed with a loud laugh emanating from his 'posse'.
"If you're looking for a date with my fist, you're going the right way about it," growled Duo, dropping his bag to the floor and raising his fists. The young man seemed unperturbed by this action, and continued his laughing, even going so far as to fire another spit ball at Duo, which he avoided with lightning-quick reflexes.
There was only one young man who saw the teacher rise to her feet, and it wasn't Duo. Easily provoked into a fight, Duo swung back his fist ready for the charge into battle, when he was caught by the shoulder by the fuming teacher, who spun him roughly around.
"Mr. Maxwell! We will have no such behaviour in the classroom!"
Duo scowled, looking as though he was about to beat the woman senseless before returning to do the same to the jocks who dared mock him. Instead, he felt a presence behind him, and was surprised to find himself facing the skinny and rather victimised blonde boy from earlier. He had a bright smile, and a pair of pale blue eyes, which seemed to give the message: "Pick on me! I'll never fight back!" Duo couldn't help but feel instantly sorry for him.
"I do apologise, Miss Campino, I'm afraid it's my own fault that Duo doesn't know all the rules about fighting in the school, but if you'll just give me a moment, I can enlighten him straight away!"
Duo stared at him for a moment. He certainly didn't look familiar… "Have we met?" he asked impatiently.
"Oh Duo, you joker!" said the young blonde, pulling him away from the slightly less fuming teacher and towards the door. "We met earlier in the cafeteria, remember?" The youth gave Duo a hard stare.
Duo rolled his eyes, realising that it may be easier to play along for the time being. "Erm, yes. Now I remember. You're… umm…"
"My name's Quatre, you silly thing!" said the blonde with a huge grin. He turned to the teacher, as though sharing some kind of in-joke. "He's really forgetful you see. Would forget his own head if it wasn't screwed on!" He grinned at the teacher, who seemed to accept this explanation.
"Just don't let it happen again, okay Mr. Winner?" said Miss Campino, smiling at Quatre and lightly ruffling his hair.
By now, the jocks had disappeared into the crowded hallways of Sunnyvale High School, which, Quatre noted, was now exactly what Duo was trying to do.
"Hey, hey, wait up!" he called after the long braided teen, shifting his heavy book bag to the other shoulder, trying to keep Duo's head in view above the mass of faces between them. Duo didn't stop, or even slow down. Quatre only caught up with him when Duo stopped to get his lunch out of his locker.
When Duo closed the door to his locker, he looked almost surprised to see Quatre still standing there. "Can I help you?"
"Don't you want to know why I helped you back there?"
Duo was confronted with the overwhelming urge to pick Quatre up, sit him on his lap and tell him a bedtime story. He had that kind of face. The kind of look shared by kicked puppies everywhere. "Not especially," he replied sourly, before continuing his trek down the hallway, with Quatre trotting at his heels.
"My name's Quatre. Quatre Raberba Winner. I know we weren't formerly introduced before, but I was hoping…"
Duo spun on him and cut him off. "Okay, Quatre Quatre Raberba Winner, here's the deal. Yes, it was nice of you to help me back in the classroom, and don't think me ungrateful, but believe me, it's not the first time, nor the last time something like that has or will happen. I don't need any kind of bodyguard, particularly not one who puts bookworms to shame, or enjoys a little 'chit chat' with teachers. I am not a very nice person, and I have no intention of hanging around with you, or becoming your friend. Is that clear?"
Quatre blinked for a moment, then continued, "But don't you want to know why I helped you?"
Duo shook his head despairingly. "Didn't you just hear what I said? Get lost!"
"I will get lost if you really want me to, but there's something I think you should know first," Quatre grinned, building up the ceremony in the words he was about to say. "I have… a feeling about you…" Quatre paused, smiling from ear to ear as Duo looked at him blankly.
"Excuse me?"
"I have a feeling about you! You're special! I think you may be the one I've been looking for! That we've been looking for!"
A horrible feeling dawned on Duo as he tried to wrap his head around what was being said to him. "NO! I am NOT gay, and NO, I don't want to be your date for the dance!!"
Quatre shook his head, sending his platinum blonde bangs flying about. "No, no, no! I mean you're the one! The one who's going to save us from the demons, and the vampires, and the werewolves! You're the one!"
"You are delusional," said Duo patiently, and rested his hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Do me a favour and leave me alone. I don't need weirdoes like you following me around, I already have enough problems as it is. There is no government plot, I am in no way special. There's an end to it. Can I go and eat my lunch now?"
Quatre clung desperately to Duo's arm. "But you can't be! I have a feeling about you, just like I did with the last one! You've heard about the demons and vampire rumours, haven't you?"
"… Erm, yes."
"Well, you're the one! The one who's going to put an end to all that! You'll save the people from almost certain death!"
"Oh yes, obviously," said Duo sarcastically, "and I was blessed with supernatural powers too, don't you know."
The blonde's jaw dropped, "You too? Wow, that's amazing! It's great to meet someone else who feels the same way!" Quatre hugged Duo's arm, and Duo pushed him roughly away.
"Get off me, you freak!"
"We've waited long enough for another one like you, and you've finally arrived! you must have been sent to us by some divine power, and now it is your duty to send these bad guys back where they came from! What do you say?"
"I say…" said Duo thoughtfully, "That you are full of shit. And you'd better stay away from me, if you know what's good for you, or I might be forced to give you a wedgy. Okay?" With these final parting words of wisdom, Duo spun on his heel and marched off to eat his dinner in peace. Maybe the library would do… at least there was no chance of being irritated by jocks in there…
Behind him, the unperturbed blonde clutched a thick textbook to his chest and grinned. "I've found him!" he said happily to himself. "I've finally found him! I've found the slayer!"
Quatre would have revelled in his joy a little longer had a senior jock not come past at this moment and attached a 'Kick Me' sign to his back without him noticing. He smiled to himself, and walked off, totally oblivious, not only to the sign on his back, but to a pair of bright green eyes which were watching him from a nearby doorway.
To Be Continued.
Please review! Feedback is very important, as this is the first time I have attempted a fic like this! And remember, I'm still collecting submissions for my website!
