Categories > Anime/Manga > Gundam Wing > Captains
TITLE: CAPTAINS
FANDOM: Gundam Wing
PAIRING: 1x2 and some het pairings in the background
RATING: PG-13 for now
GENRE: AU, Adventure, Historical, Romance
WARNING: yaoi, cross-dressing
DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything save for the story, so please don't sue poor little me
BETA: The talented OneWingedShinigami to whom I owe great thanks for the many clever improvements she contributed to.
SUMMARY: The Caribbean in the time of pirates. Duo Maxwell is an infamous captain pirate bored with easy lays. His life will get much more interesting when he meets the dark Navy Captain Heero Yuy in the most unusual circumstances.
Chapter 3: The Captain Shinigami
Duo Maxwell was furious, which was plain to see for anyone looking into his murderous violet eyes. He should have foreseen this day would be a nightmare. For once he had a decent night of sleep, something had to go wrong. Nothing ever comes for free in this world. As if having to sneak out of the Palace in Relena's dress, at the risk of being lynched by the soldiers, hadn't been enough, as far as ordeals went, the day was only getting steadily worse.
Lost in thought while the coach was taking him to the Port, he failed to notice that his no-good driver had chosen to take the "scenic route". He had been trapped all of an hour and a half as a result. The enclosed space of the stinky carriage was unbearable; he began to sweat buckets while trying to open one of the two windows. He eventually had to admit that both were stuck... of course. If he hadn't been wary of attracting attention and humiliating himself further by causing a scene, he would have given into the impulse to beat the driver, if not to break a leg or two.
When they reached the Port neighbourhood at long last, he hoped for nothing but the heavenly bath waiting for him at the tavern. But no, of course not! The street was blocked by a wagon which had lost a wheel, dumping its load onto the pavement. He had to exit the coach and walk the last few hundred meters under the heavy sun. Thanks to the driver's "consideration," it was nearly noon and certainly not the best of hours to walk when in the Tropics. The long skirt, which hid his pants, kept him unbearably hot in addition to slowing his steps, the lace on the neckline of his dress itched horribly, and the sweat running from his brow to his eyes was melting the powder, blinding him. He felt absolutely miserable.
Unfortunately for him, there was no end to his misfortune as others didn't seem disinclined by a mere perspiration. In this neighbourhood, his unusual looks were attracting attention and, if the admiration of the soldiers at the Palace had been rather amusing, that of the few sailors brave enough to defy the heat was grating on his nerves. He was experiencing the world in someone else's shoes and he swore to never mock women again when they bitched about a males' behaviour.
Earlier, he had come to appreciate the parasol he had "borrowed" from Relena as the only useful part of the entire female dress, using it first to shade his face from the too insistent gazes of some of the soldiers, and later to protect himself from the sun. Now, he was reduced to hold it firmly in front of him, closed, in a defensive posture to fight of unwanted attention. Consequently, the sun was beating mercilessly on his scalp, which, added to the unusual weight of his braid tied upon his brow, was beginning to give him one hell of a headache.
He would have warded off the good-for-nothings claiming he was Shinigami and threatening them with a long and painful death but, in addition to fearing for his reputation, he was beginning to wonder if he would be able to fight in such a dress should the idiots decide to give him a closer look. He was thus immensely relieved when, at long last, he reached the tavern safe and sound and literally threw himself through the door causing it to crash into the wall with a forceful bang.
While he was getting accustomed to the near obscurity of the room, he noticed the unusual silence and slowly lifted his head. He religiously cursed all the demons from Hell, wondering if there would be an end to his humiliation. What had begun like a good trick to play on the Governor's soldiers was turning out to be a big joke at his expense. While they could have been anywhere else, all his men had to be just sitting here about to enjoy their meal in a friendly comradeship. And all were staring at him. He wasn't yet seeing recognition on the familiar faces, but it would come, and he would be hearing about it for the rest of his days.
Bravely, he held his ground, waiting for what would happen next. Quatre was the first to react. Standing, he slowly came closer, with a preoccupied air on his face.
"Duo? Is that you? What?... How?... Why?..."
In other circumstances, seeing the Winner heir, usually so diplomatic and well-mannered, stuttering and so visibly disgruntled would have made Duo laugh. Alas, he wasn't in a laughing mood and the snickers and whispers, slowly but surely increasing about the room weren't improving his already atrocious mood.
"Believe it or not Winner, I have a perfectly good reason to be in this dress."
Unsurprisingly, the second person to come close was Meiran, her exotic features harbouring a devious smirk. Fatalist, he waited for the sarcasm which would undoubtedly come and wasn't disappointed.
"Why Duo, you finally swore off of black. This colour really agrees with your complexion. You have to give me your tailor's name."
"Miss Peacecraft's as a matter of fact, but I could ask her the next time I see her, if you can wait 'til then."
The answer came out mechanically, even if he wasn't in the mood to jest he was so used to it that he managed to without even thinking about it. That had its uses but sometimes, like just now, it made him say things he knew he would regret. Wufei's growl thus didn't surprise him.
"Peacecraft? Please don't tell me you spent the night at the Governor's Palace? Don't you have the slightest sense...?"
By experience, Duo knew that his friend's lecture could go on forever, ranting about many grandiloquent notions, such as Dignity, Justice, Consciousness, Decency, and whatever else could be brought up. Only, this time, it was too much, that was the proverbial last straw on the pride and already frazzled nerves of Shinigami. Features darkening into the frightening grimace that terrorized the oceans, Duo raised a restraining hand, interrupting the Chinese man in a threatening voice.
"Enough! Don't utter another word or I swear I'll use your back as a doormat. I probably just spent the worst morning of my life and I'm definitely at the end of my rope, so you'd better clear the way, have water brought in for my bath, and make sure nobody disturbs me for the next hour. As for the rest of you, I warn you that it would be very good for your health if the gear was packed and you were all ready to go when I come back down."
At these words he stalked warlike to the stairs, strangely managing to conserve his dignity while grabbing unceremoniously the bottom of his dress, that was slowing him down. Behind him, Wufei stood frozen, fist in the air. Meiran was stunned; Quatre dejected; the rest of the crew scared shitless, even the usually jolly Howard. You could have heard a pin drop. Their Captain hadn't been so furious with them in a long time and they all suddenly felt sympathetic with those who encountered Shinigami's ire on a regular basis.
Some time later, Quatre relearned how to breathe. He took a large puff of air and asked in a calm, clear voice. "Can the captain hear us from his bedroom?"
The remaining members of the crew stayed frozen on the spot. The innkeeper, however, answered amiably; for he was less shocked by the scene, seeing that he didn't know Shinigami as well as them. "His room is at the end of the corridor on top of the kitchens. Even if he's got good hearing, he can't hear anything that takes place in here."
Quatre's brain dutifully recorded the information and began to replay the thoughts which had plagued it during the past few minutes. He had just witnessed the most unlikely and hilarious scene in all his young life. With the assurance that his irritable Captain couldn't hear him, he asked calmly:
"Did I just see Shinigami, terror of the seas, dressed like the Peacecraft heiress, throwing a temper tantrum, and treating Wufei like a manservant?"
The few nods and Wufei's scandalized expression were too much for him in the end, and he dissolved in hysteric giggles. When hearing Shinigami's name, the innkeeper appeared a little less comfortable but, save for him and Wufei, still stuck in his incredulity, everyone else seemed to be coming back to their senses. They still were watching Quatre's display warily, before Meiran's laugh began to ring in counterpoint. Soon, the two youngsters were on the floor, teary-eyed, and shaking in helpless bouts of laughter, neither showing the slightest sign that they'd ever stop while the rest of the crew was watching them like they were both out of their minds.
"Oh... Allah... Duo... is... the... prettiest... woman... I've... ever... seen... No offence, Meiran!"
"No... No... None taken. You've got twenty nine sisters, you know what you're talkin' about. She... huh he was breathtaking... even all sweaty."
"I'd... give... one... year... of... my... life... to... see... him... coming... out... of... the... Governor's... Palace... in... that... dress... The... regiment... came... back... this... morning."
"I'd give away ten years from mine to see Miss Peacecraft's face when she saw him like that. She must have been green with envy."
The discussion was difficult between their giggles and harsh breathing. Quatre was nearly choking but at least the joyful mood was slowly coming back in the uneasy crew while everyone finally took in the ridiculousness of the entire situation. As expected, only Wufei stayed justifiably so -in his opinion anyway- indignant.
"You... All of you are out of your mind! The Governor's Palace! That... that moron is insane, he could have gotten himself killed."
"Oh shut up Chang! Duo's right, you're annoying with your lectures! Don't you see we're having fun?"
"Yes '/Chang/,' you should listen to Meiran or you could end up as Shinigami's doormat. And don't you have a bath to get ready?"
"Why Quatre you're evil. I love that in a man... well, not as much as parasols..."
At that, their hilarity resumed itself in full force, now accompanied by a good portion of the crew. The madness worsened each time someone laid eyes on Wufei's heavy frown. In the end, helpless, the Chinese man let the loonies get back to their senses by themselves. Proudly, picking up the remnants of his shredded honour, he left the room in search for Shinigami's bath-water, the thought alone of such an undignified task frowning his features a little more with each step.
FANDOM: Gundam Wing
PAIRING: 1x2 and some het pairings in the background
RATING: PG-13 for now
GENRE: AU, Adventure, Historical, Romance
WARNING: yaoi, cross-dressing
DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything save for the story, so please don't sue poor little me
BETA: The talented OneWingedShinigami to whom I owe great thanks for the many clever improvements she contributed to.
SUMMARY: The Caribbean in the time of pirates. Duo Maxwell is an infamous captain pirate bored with easy lays. His life will get much more interesting when he meets the dark Navy Captain Heero Yuy in the most unusual circumstances.
Chapter 3: The Captain Shinigami
Duo Maxwell was furious, which was plain to see for anyone looking into his murderous violet eyes. He should have foreseen this day would be a nightmare. For once he had a decent night of sleep, something had to go wrong. Nothing ever comes for free in this world. As if having to sneak out of the Palace in Relena's dress, at the risk of being lynched by the soldiers, hadn't been enough, as far as ordeals went, the day was only getting steadily worse.
Lost in thought while the coach was taking him to the Port, he failed to notice that his no-good driver had chosen to take the "scenic route". He had been trapped all of an hour and a half as a result. The enclosed space of the stinky carriage was unbearable; he began to sweat buckets while trying to open one of the two windows. He eventually had to admit that both were stuck... of course. If he hadn't been wary of attracting attention and humiliating himself further by causing a scene, he would have given into the impulse to beat the driver, if not to break a leg or two.
When they reached the Port neighbourhood at long last, he hoped for nothing but the heavenly bath waiting for him at the tavern. But no, of course not! The street was blocked by a wagon which had lost a wheel, dumping its load onto the pavement. He had to exit the coach and walk the last few hundred meters under the heavy sun. Thanks to the driver's "consideration," it was nearly noon and certainly not the best of hours to walk when in the Tropics. The long skirt, which hid his pants, kept him unbearably hot in addition to slowing his steps, the lace on the neckline of his dress itched horribly, and the sweat running from his brow to his eyes was melting the powder, blinding him. He felt absolutely miserable.
Unfortunately for him, there was no end to his misfortune as others didn't seem disinclined by a mere perspiration. In this neighbourhood, his unusual looks were attracting attention and, if the admiration of the soldiers at the Palace had been rather amusing, that of the few sailors brave enough to defy the heat was grating on his nerves. He was experiencing the world in someone else's shoes and he swore to never mock women again when they bitched about a males' behaviour.
Earlier, he had come to appreciate the parasol he had "borrowed" from Relena as the only useful part of the entire female dress, using it first to shade his face from the too insistent gazes of some of the soldiers, and later to protect himself from the sun. Now, he was reduced to hold it firmly in front of him, closed, in a defensive posture to fight of unwanted attention. Consequently, the sun was beating mercilessly on his scalp, which, added to the unusual weight of his braid tied upon his brow, was beginning to give him one hell of a headache.
He would have warded off the good-for-nothings claiming he was Shinigami and threatening them with a long and painful death but, in addition to fearing for his reputation, he was beginning to wonder if he would be able to fight in such a dress should the idiots decide to give him a closer look. He was thus immensely relieved when, at long last, he reached the tavern safe and sound and literally threw himself through the door causing it to crash into the wall with a forceful bang.
While he was getting accustomed to the near obscurity of the room, he noticed the unusual silence and slowly lifted his head. He religiously cursed all the demons from Hell, wondering if there would be an end to his humiliation. What had begun like a good trick to play on the Governor's soldiers was turning out to be a big joke at his expense. While they could have been anywhere else, all his men had to be just sitting here about to enjoy their meal in a friendly comradeship. And all were staring at him. He wasn't yet seeing recognition on the familiar faces, but it would come, and he would be hearing about it for the rest of his days.
Bravely, he held his ground, waiting for what would happen next. Quatre was the first to react. Standing, he slowly came closer, with a preoccupied air on his face.
"Duo? Is that you? What?... How?... Why?..."
In other circumstances, seeing the Winner heir, usually so diplomatic and well-mannered, stuttering and so visibly disgruntled would have made Duo laugh. Alas, he wasn't in a laughing mood and the snickers and whispers, slowly but surely increasing about the room weren't improving his already atrocious mood.
"Believe it or not Winner, I have a perfectly good reason to be in this dress."
Unsurprisingly, the second person to come close was Meiran, her exotic features harbouring a devious smirk. Fatalist, he waited for the sarcasm which would undoubtedly come and wasn't disappointed.
"Why Duo, you finally swore off of black. This colour really agrees with your complexion. You have to give me your tailor's name."
"Miss Peacecraft's as a matter of fact, but I could ask her the next time I see her, if you can wait 'til then."
The answer came out mechanically, even if he wasn't in the mood to jest he was so used to it that he managed to without even thinking about it. That had its uses but sometimes, like just now, it made him say things he knew he would regret. Wufei's growl thus didn't surprise him.
"Peacecraft? Please don't tell me you spent the night at the Governor's Palace? Don't you have the slightest sense...?"
By experience, Duo knew that his friend's lecture could go on forever, ranting about many grandiloquent notions, such as Dignity, Justice, Consciousness, Decency, and whatever else could be brought up. Only, this time, it was too much, that was the proverbial last straw on the pride and already frazzled nerves of Shinigami. Features darkening into the frightening grimace that terrorized the oceans, Duo raised a restraining hand, interrupting the Chinese man in a threatening voice.
"Enough! Don't utter another word or I swear I'll use your back as a doormat. I probably just spent the worst morning of my life and I'm definitely at the end of my rope, so you'd better clear the way, have water brought in for my bath, and make sure nobody disturbs me for the next hour. As for the rest of you, I warn you that it would be very good for your health if the gear was packed and you were all ready to go when I come back down."
At these words he stalked warlike to the stairs, strangely managing to conserve his dignity while grabbing unceremoniously the bottom of his dress, that was slowing him down. Behind him, Wufei stood frozen, fist in the air. Meiran was stunned; Quatre dejected; the rest of the crew scared shitless, even the usually jolly Howard. You could have heard a pin drop. Their Captain hadn't been so furious with them in a long time and they all suddenly felt sympathetic with those who encountered Shinigami's ire on a regular basis.
Some time later, Quatre relearned how to breathe. He took a large puff of air and asked in a calm, clear voice. "Can the captain hear us from his bedroom?"
The remaining members of the crew stayed frozen on the spot. The innkeeper, however, answered amiably; for he was less shocked by the scene, seeing that he didn't know Shinigami as well as them. "His room is at the end of the corridor on top of the kitchens. Even if he's got good hearing, he can't hear anything that takes place in here."
Quatre's brain dutifully recorded the information and began to replay the thoughts which had plagued it during the past few minutes. He had just witnessed the most unlikely and hilarious scene in all his young life. With the assurance that his irritable Captain couldn't hear him, he asked calmly:
"Did I just see Shinigami, terror of the seas, dressed like the Peacecraft heiress, throwing a temper tantrum, and treating Wufei like a manservant?"
The few nods and Wufei's scandalized expression were too much for him in the end, and he dissolved in hysteric giggles. When hearing Shinigami's name, the innkeeper appeared a little less comfortable but, save for him and Wufei, still stuck in his incredulity, everyone else seemed to be coming back to their senses. They still were watching Quatre's display warily, before Meiran's laugh began to ring in counterpoint. Soon, the two youngsters were on the floor, teary-eyed, and shaking in helpless bouts of laughter, neither showing the slightest sign that they'd ever stop while the rest of the crew was watching them like they were both out of their minds.
"Oh... Allah... Duo... is... the... prettiest... woman... I've... ever... seen... No offence, Meiran!"
"No... No... None taken. You've got twenty nine sisters, you know what you're talkin' about. She... huh he was breathtaking... even all sweaty."
"I'd... give... one... year... of... my... life... to... see... him... coming... out... of... the... Governor's... Palace... in... that... dress... The... regiment... came... back... this... morning."
"I'd give away ten years from mine to see Miss Peacecraft's face when she saw him like that. She must have been green with envy."
The discussion was difficult between their giggles and harsh breathing. Quatre was nearly choking but at least the joyful mood was slowly coming back in the uneasy crew while everyone finally took in the ridiculousness of the entire situation. As expected, only Wufei stayed justifiably so -in his opinion anyway- indignant.
"You... All of you are out of your mind! The Governor's Palace! That... that moron is insane, he could have gotten himself killed."
"Oh shut up Chang! Duo's right, you're annoying with your lectures! Don't you see we're having fun?"
"Yes '/Chang/,' you should listen to Meiran or you could end up as Shinigami's doormat. And don't you have a bath to get ready?"
"Why Quatre you're evil. I love that in a man... well, not as much as parasols..."
At that, their hilarity resumed itself in full force, now accompanied by a good portion of the crew. The madness worsened each time someone laid eyes on Wufei's heavy frown. In the end, helpless, the Chinese man let the loonies get back to their senses by themselves. Proudly, picking up the remnants of his shredded honour, he left the room in search for Shinigami's bath-water, the thought alone of such an undignified task frowning his features a little more with each step.
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