Smells Like Teen Spirit
By Link Worshiper

(x) X (x)

Game 52
Dazed and Confused

 (x) X (x)

Relena Peacecraft had been doing a lot of thinking, lately. Ever since that confrontation she'd had with Duo and Heero in the school parking lot, when Heero had blatantly told her that he was in love with Duo, she had been unsure of what to do.

Sitting in the front row of the grand stand's bleachers, she pressed her fingers into her eyes and rubbed her temples with her thumbs, trying desperately to make sense of the strange turns her life had taken lately. The first time Relena had ever seen Heero, soon after he'd first transferred into their school in the tenth grade, she'd found herself attracted to the mysterious, brooding Japanese youth. Despite the gaggles of boys who routinely threw themselves at her feet, Relena had decided that no one would do but Heero, even after he repeatedly told her that he had no interest in having her as his girlfriend. To be honest, it had been that gruff refusal that had really spurred on Relena's quest for him; no one, particularly a boy, had ever refused her anything, and she was determined that she could change Heero's mind about her. Was she really so desperate for acceptance? Was that really what this was at its most basic level?

She groaned and sighed, digging the heels of her hands into her forehead. She couldn't see why Heero had such a loathing for her. She had been nothing but kind and sweet to him, practically bending over backwards to offer him anything he could ever want. So what was it about Duo Maxwell that had entranced Heero so? The longhaired mechanic didn't have nearly as much to offer Heero, and he wasn't even the nicest person in the universe either, especially to people he didn't like. But even back then, when they were sophomores, she remembered Heero constantly watching Duo, as if he were waiting for something to happen. It made no sense to her mind. What was it that Duo Maxwell had that she didn't?

Looking up at the playing field before her, Relena tried to forget all those confusing thoughts, figuring that ignoring them was the best way to get rid of them. She could see the black silhouette of Cathy as she did a series of cartwheels across the starch grass, a long, demented shadow extending from beneath her in the setting sun. Even though the cheerleading squad had finished practice about twenty minutes ago, Cathy had remained behind to work a little more on the routine for the next big game, and, despite the fact that Cathy hadn't really spoken to her much since she'd punched her, Relena still felt compelled to wait for her best friend.

That brought up another issue, which ended up just leading Relena's frustrated thoughts in circles. Cathy had been acting quite aloof towards her lately. Ever since the incident with the blond mutant, she realized. Relena hadn't thought much of the comment she'd made about Trowa and Quatre, saying something about them being a pair of sick, mutated freaks, but apparently Cathy was more defensive of her brother than Relena had ever realized. Cathy never spoke much about him, and since she had never said anything to differ from Relena's stance on mutants, Relena had just assumed that Cathy was ashamed about what her brother was. Apparently, she was wrong.

"Hey," said a vaguely familiar voice from behind Relena, which caused the wheat-haired cheerleader to jump.

Relena turned to her right, surprised to see Dorothy, of all people, sinking down into the seat beside her. Relena had absolutely no idea what to make of the longhaired blonde, but she felt no particular urge to push her away. Loneliness wasn't something Relena was used to, but lately, she was beginning to realize that perhaps she was lonelier than she thought. "Hi," she managed to say, quietly, still focusing on Catherine, who was now turning a back flip.

"Bad day?" asked Dorothy, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. She was wearing one of her usual, long, flowing skirts and a white blouse, which made her look a little odd for a teenaged girl, despite the fact that the clothes were just so vintage Dorothy.

"It was... okay," Relena said, not quite willing to admit that she had been having it pretty rough. It was not in good form for the most popular girl in school to have a bad day.

Dorothy just hummed in understanding. She could see right through all of Relena's verbal feints.

For some reason, Dorothy had this way of making Relena uncomfortable. It wasn't even for the usual reasons that people felt strangely around Dorothy, but more because Relena didn't like feeling at as much of a loss for both tact and words as she did around Dorothy. Dorothy didn't pull any punches and was amazing at painting Relena into strange corners. Which just meant more painful pondering for Relena.

So when Catherine started heading for the locker rooms, passing the bleachers without even a sideways glance in Relena's direction, Relena was fast to jump to her feet anyway. She muttered something quickly to Dorothy, some forgetful words of parting, and hurriedly skipped off after Catherine. Dorothy watched her go with a grim set to her jaw.

Relena tailed Catherine into the locker rooms, not sure if faring her chances with her grouchy best friend was really much better than sticking it out with Dorothy. "Cathy," she tried calling after the bobble-haired redhead, but she was blithely ignored as the other girl moodily swept into the girls' locker room. Relena huffed and frowned, finally deciding that enough was enough. She stalked over to Catherine's locker, where the other girl was busy pulling out her regular street clothes. Slamming the metal door shut, Relena spoke sternly and angrily; "I don't know what kind of point you're trying to make, but it's getting old, Cathy."

Cathy's bright green eyes snapped up, boring straight into Relena's for the first time since the incident over Trowa. Relena swallowed nervously, never having seen that absolutely livid look of loathing clouding Cathy's eyes. "We have nothing to discuss, Relena Peacecraft," she growled, spitting out Relena's last name like it was some kind of dirty word.

But Relena wasn't about to just sit back and let this grow any more out of hand. "I'll say we do, Catherine Barton!" she snapped back, her voice just as barbed as the other girl's. "What makes you think that you can just flounce around ignoring me the way you have been!"

Cathy was quick to bite back. "What makes you think you can go around saying the shit you do about my brother!"

Relena immediately became defensive. "I didn't think you liked him very much," she said after a short pause, swallowing a little. Relena wasn't used to skating on thin ice, and the notion that she was starting to do so was more than a little nerve-wracking.

"Doesn't matter," Cathy said flatly, her hands curling tightly around the light green shirt she'd been wearing that day. It seemed like she was on the verge of ripping the stretchy fabric apart. "Trowa is my brother, and I won't have you thinking you can get away with talking trash about him just because you... you don't like what he is!"

Her mouth half-open, as if she was about to counter that with some anti-mutant argument, Relena found herself unable to get a word in as Catherine continued to rage at her.

"I'm sick and tired of you thinking that you can just push me around! I'm sick and tired of being that dumb friend who follows you around, just automatically going with whatever you say!" Cathy yelled, choking a little, as she got louder. She flung her shirt down angrily into the pile of clothes lying on the bench beside her. "I've got a mind too! I've got my own opinions! It's about damn time I started acting on them!"

Completely taken aback by Catherine's vehement rant against her, Relena took a few, nervous steps away from the other girl. Her crystal blue eyes were wide, her lips flapping soundlessly as she tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. She wanted to tell Cathy she never intended for her to feel that way, that she would have listened if Cathy had something to say... that she was sorry for this unforeseen trouble in their friendship. But somehow, Relena didn't think that Catherine would care much.

So she did the only thing she could think to do: she made a hasty exit and didn't look back once. She had to get away from Cathy and her complaints, just like she had to get away from Duo and the tons of trouble he packed with him.

Once she was safely out in the hall again, Relena found herself back in that rut of loneliness and confusion. Wearily, she sank down on one of the benches lining the cold hallway, tucking her knees up against her chest and sniffling a little. She had never let herself fall into such a state since middle school, but she had to admit that allowing herself this little moment of weakness was strangely comforting.

When she heard the sound of a door opening, she didn't look up, thinking that it was just Cathy leaving the girls' locker room. What she didn't expect was to be greeted by someone else. "Hey there, kid. Feeling down?"

Daring to peek above her knees, Relena found herself looking over towards the athletic office, where the tall and charismatic Coach Kushrenada was standing with a key in one hand and a lacrosse stick in the other. Leaning against his leg was a large, flat object wrapped in brown paper.

Treize stuck the key into the lock and left it hanging there as he picked up his package and moved over towards the bench to sit beside Relena. Smiling at her as he put his things down, he asked her what was wrong. "Surely the president of the student body wouldn't be crying without a good reason," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

Relena hadn't even noticed she had been spouting tears until Treize had said that. "Things have been just so... confusing lately," Relena admitted with another soft sniffle. "I'm not sure what to think anymore."

Treize made an understanding, humming noise in the back of his throat. He didn't want to mention it directly, but he figured that Relena was alluding to the incident with Solo and Quatre. He wasn't particularly close to Relena, and really only knew her by name and face, but he didn't want to see a student so upset. "Look, I don't know what I should tell you, and I'm not gonna pretend to know, either," began Treize slowly, still rubbing comforting circles on Relena's back. "But what I do know is that I have some hot chocolate in my office," he went on. "And I know that hot chocolate can make anybody feel better, even when they're at their lowest."

Relena looked up at the man with slick, gingery hair. "Really?"

Treize laughed, standing up and striding back over to the athletic office's door, pushing it open and inviting Relena inside the cluttered room. "Would I lie about something like that?"

Relena carefully got up and followed the coach into the office, curiously looking around the messy room. Treize's two positions as both athletic director and art teacher made for a very interesting, eclectic array of things. Unsure if she should sit or not, she contented herself to stand behind one of the two chairs sitting in front of the large desk, which was piled high with books, papers and all kinds of other random knickknacks, while Treize went about putting on a pot of hot water in the boiler sitting on top of one of his filing cabinets.

"These paintings are... interesting," mused Relena as she continued to absorb all the artwork around her. She hadn't seen any of these hanging around campus before, though she couldn't say she would have exactly been comfortable with some of the more erotic, racy subjects being on public display.

A smirk rode Treize's lips as he removed a packet of hot chocolate powder from one of the file cabinet's drawers. Then a small laugh followed, mounting into a full-blown laugh. "Ah, I'd think that you of all people would know whose artwork this is, Miss Peacecraft!"

Relena arched a confused eyebrow at the coach, wondering if perhaps he was insane. She had no idea what he was trying to hint at.

"Oh, come on," he said, stepping around the desk to hand Relena a disposable cup with the chocolate powder inside of it and a wooden stirrer. "Surely you would recognize Heero Yuy's artwork!"

Relena's jaw hit the floor, and she nearly dropped the cup. Slowly, she let her eyes wander around the room, absorbing the anonymous, nude bodies captured in such exquisite detail on canvas. "These belong to Heero!" she gaped. She knew Heero was a talented artist, but she wasn't familiar enough with his style to recognize it and she definitely wasn't aware that he painted such questionable things!

"Hm, yes, there is a reason these are kept in here and not hanging out in the hall where everyone can see," Treize said as the hot water started to bubble. "But I think these are some of Yuy's best. Actually," he went on, laying the flat, brown package on the desk, "this was the last one he finished. I was just dropping it off here before I went home."

Relena managed to let out a tiny whelp to signal she'd heard. They always said that a person's artwork was a window into his soul, and these paintings were certainly offering Relena a look at a facet of Heero's brain that she didn't even know existed. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hardly even noticed as Treize poured the hot water into her cup.

"Hey, I got to run," he was saying as he replaced the kettle on the hot plate. "But feel free to hang and look around for a little bit while you enjoy that drink, okay?" Treize scooped up his lacrosse stick, heading for the door. "I hope you feel better soon, Miss Peacecraft." With that, he closed the door behind him and was gone.

The moment Treize had left, Relena found herself on her feet, picking through the messy floor with dainty steps as she went to closer examine Heero's paintings. They made no sense to her; Heero was supposed to be such a straight-laced, controlled person. How could someone like that create such suggestive and strange pictures?

After making a complete circle around the small office, Relena found her eyes settling on the package on the desk. It sat there innocently, but there was no denying what was hidden beneath that brown paper. She walked resolutely over to the desk, setting down her now-empty cup on a nearby file cabinet as she read the short note neatly printed in the upper-right corner of the package.

It was a simple message addressed to Treize, which read: 'I've decided that I should start moving my things out of Meilan's place, but I wanted to make sure this one was well taken care of during that process. Thank you for holding it for me. --Heero'

Another quick glance around the room had Relena wondering if all these paintings held some kind of importance to Heero, and if they did, then what? Frowning, she decided there was only one way to know for sure. Unsure why her hands were trembling as she carefully flipped over the wrapped, medium-sized canvas, she ran a long, manicured nail through the tape holding the paper around it. Inside the wrapping, the canvas lay face-down, and, her hand still shaking a little, she reached down to flip it over. What she saw made her gasp.

Unlike the other paintings, which depicted only various aspects of bodies, an ear and cheek here, a torso there, without identifying the model, this one was a more traditional portrait. She immediately recognized the figure stretched across the taut canvas as none other than Duo Maxwell, draped easily in an indoor hammock. And even though he was almost completely clothed, his loosely hanging shirt merely unbuttoned, there was still something very sensual about the painting. Relena wasn't sure if it was Duo's posture, the way his legs seemed to almost pour out of the hammock, the careless way his hands were flung, one over his chest and the other tucked lazily behind his head, that gave the portrait that sexual quality. Or then again, perhaps it was that half-lidded gaze of his, that devilish smirk, which told so much, yet hid so much more. There was an element of absolute, painstaking care in the craftsmanship of Duo's facial features that made Relena green with envy, knowing that Duo had been sending that ambiguous look at no one but Heero. The painting was absolutely gorgeous in both style and emotion, which was exactly why Relena hated it. She hated it because it was beautiful, because Duo was beautiful.

In one sudden moment, she let out a loud cry, pounding the wooden desk so hard, the painting jittered. One of her hands smacked painfully against a pen that was lying there, causing her to yelp and moan with even more frustration. Angrily, Relena snatched up the offending pen with every intention to hurl it across the room. But when she wheeled her hand back for the throw, the pen vertical over her head, she found herself glaring down at the source of all her discontent. It would be so easy, she thought, her fingers tightening around the thin, plastic writing tool. I could just ruin his stupid face.... That stupid, stupid grin of his....

The ticking of the soccer ball clock on the wall behind her suddenly became the loudest noise in the world, drowning out even Relena's own harsh breaths as she readjusted her hand on the pen. She wanted so badly to just stab that damned face of Duo's--it would be so easy for her to just bring the pen slamming down through the canvas--but for some reason, her hand faltered and stayed, unable to go through with it. Even despite her every frustration and complaint against Duo, she just couldn't bring herself to destroy the painting. The pen ended up falling from her loose fingers, clattering against the floor as her hand swung back down to her side.

She gritted her teeth, her dark gold eyebrows crinkling over her nose. "Damn you, Duo Maxwell," she spat at the painting bitterly. Then, unable to look at it anymore, she hurried out of the office and slammed the door behind her.

(x) X (x)

Depression wasn't an emotion that Chang Wufei could say he was particularly accustomed to, but ever since Meilan had passed away, he found himself becoming rather well acquainted with it. Part of him screamed out at the injustice of losing his best friend, while another part of him wailed that he must exact revenge on those responsible for Meilan's death. It was like being torn in two completely different directions by charging horses, and Wufei was beginning to feel himself rip apart at his very core.

Sitting on the sill of one of the large, opened windows of the apartment that he lived in, Wufei stared dumbly down at the sidewalk below him. This was one of his favourite places to be when he was trying to contemplate something hard, especially since his father was rarely home, which left him surrounded by a calming, meditative silence for such thoughts. But today, he was having supreme trouble trying to channel himself; the moment he got himself into the proper frame of mind for such brooding, he could hardly keep himself there for more than a few seconds before something drove it to disappear like a wisp of smoke atop a snuffed candle.

Meilan had officially been laid to rest earlier that day, but she was far from dead for Wufei. If Heero's theory about Meilan being murdered was correct--and by this point, Wufei was more than sure it was--then there was hell to pay and revenge to deal in spades before he would even think of moving on. It was probably dangerous for him to mire himself in a moment like this, but Wufei had never known such grief and loss. Wufei still considered himself young and impressionable, still learning about the world and the people in it, and to have the one person that kept him grounded suddenly snatched away from him was a major blow. For the sake of Meilan's soul and his own conscience, he had to find his way to the bottom of this sinister scheme.

From somewhere below, Wufei heard the sound of feet smacking loudly against the pavement. His dark eyes flicked downwards, glaring across the street at the source of the noise, which proved to be none other than Relena Peacecraft as she ran. Frowning, he silently watched as she hurried down the block, briefly wondering why she seemed so upset. He soon forgot her as soon as she turned the corner and was out of his sight.

But as soon as she was gone, another distraction from the street quickly disturbed his peace again. Wufei's eyes zinged back to the other side of the block, where two teenaged boys were arguing. He hadn't seen them appear on the street corner, so he assumed they must have shown up while he had been watching Relena at the other end of the road.

One of the boys was much larger than the other, dressed in an old, secondhand, tweed coat, and hissing something angrily at his companion as he gesticulated with sharp, annoyed movements. The other teen was dressed in clothes that were just as ratty, and seemed to be torn between listening to the bigger boy, who was obviously suggesting something he didn't like, or getting whaled on for not doing as he was told.

Wufei narrowed his eyes, wondering what was going on; their interaction reeked of suspicion.

"Look, I don' give a shit if'n it matters to ya or not, ya little wuss!" the larger boy shouted at the other, suddenly much louder. "Just follow the goddamned bitch, fer Chrissakes!" He gave the smaller teen a shove in the direction Relena had just gone.

The small teen glowered at the bigger one, trying to stand his ground, though his efforts seemed to be in vain. "If'n it matters so damn much to you, why don't you follow 'er, Mueller?"

Mueller looked like he was about to just deck his lackey and be done with it, but something held his fist back. "Because," he explained slowly, "I'm heading her off to confront her on th' other end, moron." He lifted one of his booted feet and used it to deal the kid a harsh shove. "Now get yer scrawny butt movin' 'afore she gets away, or I'll cut one of yer fingers off." His eyes narrowed when the smaller one didn't start off right away. "I said move! Go!" he snapped, reaching under his coat, presumably to retrieve a weapon.

The lackey didn't let Mueller get the chance to flaunt his knife and started speeding down the street after Relena before Mueller had a chance to pull the blade on him. Obviously, the kid knew Mueller's threat wasn't an idle one.

And all this while, as the scene unfolded, Wufei had sat stock-still on his window ledge, watching, aghast. It wasn't hard to realize that Relena was being tailed by some very dangerous people, and by their appearances, it was simple to deduce that they probably were involved with White Fang. And White Fang had proven to be connected to the infamous Dr. J, the one who was most likely responsible for murdering Meilan to suit his own selfish purposes.

He was quickly on his feet, hurrying out of his apartment and dashing down the stairs two at a time. He wasn't sure exactly why White Fang would be tailing Relena, though he was pretty sure the reason probably had to do with Solo and the night he died. Relena might not have been Wufei's favourite person, but he would be thrice damned if he would see another girl suffer at the hands of that sadistic street gang.

When he stepped out onto the sidewalk outside, Wufei willed the frantic drive humming inside of him to still itself; he couldn't afford to be noticed by either of the White Fang boys, and being panicked was a surefire way for that to happen. The two plotting teens were no longer on the other side of the street, but Wufei didn't allow himself to relax. He quickly pulled up the stiff collar of his rugby shirt and hurried across the street, quickly moving in the direction Relena--and, presumably, the White Fang lackey--had gone.

Rounding the corner, Wufei could see Relena about two blocks away. Between them was the smaller White Fang kid that Mueller had sent after her, tailing her about a block and a half behind. The blond girl seemed to be brooding over something and it was clear that she wouldn't have noticed the inconspicuous child following her even if he was a ten-foot-tall ogre. However, Wufei was more worried about Mueller; he had no idea of knowing which way the larger teen had gone or what he planned to do. Unsure of what exact course of action he should take just yet, Wufei decided that his best bet at the moment would be to hang back and observe.

(x) X (x)

Even after flying out of Treize's office, away from all of Heero's strangely enticing paintings, that one particular portrait of Duo still haunted Relena's memories. She had desperately tried to forget the soft features of that delicately painted face and the perfect shapes of lights and shadows that formed that exquisite body, but the more she told herself not to think about Duo Maxwell, the harder it was.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the large figure that suddenly encroached upon her from a little side street as she hurried past. It wasn't until she heard the deep, vaguely familiar voice practically whispering in her ear that she even realized that she was no longer alone; his unexpected appearance caused her to jump with fright.

"Shh, shh, little lady. No need t'be scared; I just wanna little chat with you, s'all," the tall teenager said with an exaggerated bow, sweeping his tweed cap off his head as he dipped down. His hair was ragged and dirty, slick with grease and in need of a good wash.

Relena was nervous, unsure of whom this random stranger was. She took a few steps back, swallowing unconsciously. "Who are you?" she wondered, her voice giving away her unease.

Setting his hat back on his head, the strange boy grinned at her, displaying a set of slightly crooked teeth. "Name's Mueller, ma'am," he said, keeping up the charm. "Good friend of old Solo's, back when he was kickin'. Maybe you've seen me around?"

At the mention of Solo's name, Relena seemed to visually relax a little, though she still kept her guard up, unsure of Mueller's intent. "Is that why you want to talk to me? Something to do with Solo?"

"Inna manner of speakin', yeah," replied Mueller as he casually leaned against a nearby streetlamp. Just a block away, Mueller could see his lackey sitting on the curb, waiting.

"What does that mean?" Relena asked, narrowing her eyes. She didn't doubt that this boy was a member of White Fang and knew Solo, but something still didn't quite smell right about him. It was clear he didn't have the brains or the tact that Solo had possessed.

"It just means that I know you were tight with Solo an' that you're most likely t'be sympathetic to our cause," Mueller answered with surprising quickness. It suggested that, while he might not be the brightest person, he at least knew what he was talking about and was genuine in his meaning. So far, at least.

Relena crossed her arms, still not willing to let herself seem too open, just in case Mueller turned out to be pulling a ruse. "And what cause is that?" she asked sharply.

The corners of Mueller's mouth rose as he pushed off of the lamppost and strode over to Relena, slinging an arm over her shoulder in a friendly manner. "That night Solo got murdered, weren'tcha scared that mutant crazy was gonna slit yer throat too?" he asked in a low whisper, his lips moving hardly inches away from her ear. "Ya know that if that crazy and his stupid friends hadn't come bustin' in on you 'n' Solo like they owned the damned place, Solo and that Chinese kid would still be livin'?"

This was a thought Relena hadn't really considered in depth before, but now that Mueller mentioned it, she found herself wondering how things might have been different if Quatre Winner and his friends hadn't come rushing in. Even though Solo's own behaviour had been slightly questionable that night, it bothered her that those other kids felt like it was their job to step in and interfere just because they all had a certain vendetta against Solo. A vendetta, she realized with a bit more thought, that all stemmed from Duo Maxwell. She grit her teeth at the thought.

"You know Dr. J, don'tcha, missy?" Mueller pressed, his arm tightening around Relena's shoulder. "He sent me t'find ya so he could offer you the chance t'get back at that blond mutant creep that did old Solo in. Wouldn't you like that?"

 Quatre Winner would never have felt the need to rip Solo apart if he hadn't been brainwashed by that... that damned street punk! All of this is his fault! Relena thought, momentarily shutting out anything else Mueller was saying at the moment. "What about Duo Maxwell?" she suddenly asked, cutting Mueller off mid-sentence.

An unnamed emotion flickered across Mueller's face as he backed off slightly, cocking his head and looking at Relena sideways. "Duo Maxwell, eh?" he queried, clearly interested as to why someone like Relena would care about the former White Fang protˇgˇ. He had heard from Solo that this girl had wanted to wrench him away from some boy she had a crush on, but the fixation on Duo, the painstaking dislike, interested Mueller greatly.

A low, pained groan echoed from down the street. Mueller snapped his head up and glared down to where he'd seen his lackey sitting moments ago, just in time to see a black-haired, Chinese youth jamming his elbow into the boy's face. The attack startled Mueller, but he didn't let his surprise show on his face much, his eyes merely narrowing a little as he watched the strange Chinese boy drag his unconscious lackey out of sight. He would have to put his guard up a little and wait to see what came of this.

The sound of Relena's voice dragged Mueller's attention away from the immediate problem of the attacker. She was asking about Dr. J, what he wanted and why he was seeking her out.

"Oh, poor little missy," Mueller cooed with a charm that even Solo might have been proud of. "J knows how upset you are over Solo and he figured you'd be the perfect person to help with this sudden mutant problem because of it. He's been worried something like this would happen for a long time now."

"What can I do?" she asked, still feeling a little reservation. "Hardly anyone listens to me anymore, anyway."

"Start small, work yer way up," said Mueller, still distracted by the Chinese boy. Any sudden movements wouldn't do; he would only startle Relena away and the Chinese attacker into action. "'Sides, people'd listen to you 'afore they'd listen to me or J or anyone else in White Fang."

Regarding him more thoughtfully, Relena mused over the idea in her mind; he did have a good point, there. No one was going to care about Solo if she didn't get that ball rolling herself. The last thing she wanted to see was some filthy mutant get away with a crime like murder just because of his affluent father. Yes, she decided, she would be courageous for these destitute children; she would speak for those who had no voice.

She was about to tell Mueller this, when suddenly, a loud yell and a fist interrupted their conversation. Relena yelped and jumped back a few paces, startled, as Wufei laid another punch on Mueller. "What do you think you're doing!" she shouted frantically as she raised a protesting hand, reaching out towards Mueller.

Turning his slanted, onyx eyes towards Relena, Wufei halted his assault, leaving a dizzy Mueller to recover from the onslaught of punches. Wufei was more than certain in his instinct that this entire situation reeked of something dark and suspicious, and Relena's avid defense of Mueller left Wufei blinking in confusion at her. He had absolutely no idea what to make of her thought process.

"That's assault, Wufei," she said sternly, a hand on each hip, trying to assert herself to the somber Chinese.

"Relena, you shouldn't be listening to a creep like him," Wufei said, jabbing a thumb at Mueller, who was dabbing at the fresh cut on his lip. "It's him and his friends who are responsible for Meilan's death!" He ground that last bit out with some effort, trying hard not to let himself fly too much off the handle. Keeping his cool was essential to making the best of this situation.

She was quick to counter him. "Yes, well, you and your friends are the reason Solo is dead!" she snapped angrily. "He was my friend, but that doesn't matter to you. All you see are the lies that Maxwell feeds you!"

"Relena, they murdered Meilan so they could link Quatre to two deaths. It's a big set-up!" Wufei retorted, clenching his fists. He suddenly wondered why he even cared whether or not Relena listened to him.

She sighed, a truly sympathetic look flickering across her face. "Look, Wufei, I know you're upset about Meilan," she said, hanging her head a little, her long, wheat-tinted hair slipping over her shoulders. "When my father died, I did the same thing, trying to make excuses for it," she said softly, gripping the hem of the denim jacket she was wearing. "But," she went on, her tone becoming tighter as she lifted her fiery, passionate eyes to him, "that's no reason to go blaming it on the first person you see! Not everyone is out to get you and your friends, Wufei!"

"And not everyone is totally good of heart or well-intentioned. You see so much, yet nothing!" Wufei countered, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits that seemed to glow with fire and brimstone. Were he a demon, he was sure to have exploded into a vibrant display of hellish light by then. "Meilan died of plague, Relena," he informed her blankly.

"There are still freak cases!" she snapped. "How do you know it wasn't just her bad luck?"

The curl of Wufei's upper lip was truly hideous. "How dare you," he growled, his voice hardly above a whisper. He shot a dastardly glare at Mueller, who was cracking his knuckles and frowning at him. Wufei barely had time to take a breath before Mueller had breached the space between them and knocked Wufei violently in the side of the face with his hard knuckled fist. The punch's impact sent the Chinese youth sprawling onto the sidewalk, knocking his head painfully on the cement. Dizzy, Wufei struggled to sit up, his anger at being sucker-punched and belittled far outweighing the dangers of continuing the fight.

"Oh, coming back for more?" Mueller taunted as Wufei grabbed onto the base of a nearby lamp pole to help him climb back to his feet. Feeling the rush of the fray, Mueller forgot Relena and sunk down into a fighting stance, raising both fists in front of his face. "Do your worst. I'll kick your ass the way I used to kick Maxwell's!"

Wufei tightened the fingers of one hand around the wrist of his other as he cracked all of the bones in it. His slanted eyebrows met over his nose, like a single sweep of jet-black ink, as he glowered at Mueller.

The street urchin didn't seem to quite understand how precarious his situation had become. In a straight fight, Wufei's martial arts would probably have been about equal match for Mueller's dirtier combat skills, but Wufei was now pissed as all hell, and that would only serve to make him that much more dangerous.

Ducking, Wufei avoided the clumsy swing of Mueller's powerful fist and from his low position, was able to send a few quick punches of his own into Mueller's stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of the large, bulky teen, and he stumbled back a bit, almost treading on Relena's toes.

Unsure of what to do, Relena hung back, worrying the hem of her jacket as she bit her bottom lip in apprehension. She trusted Mueller on the grounds that he was one of Solo's best friends, but here was Wufei, a person that she had always respected from afar, coming down on him like he was the most poisonous creature alive. White Fang has always been kind to her, and she was having trouble grasping the idea that maybe that didn't quite mean that they were all good. Hardest of all was to accept that she might be wrong; she had never been so before, or at least admitted to it. She watched dumbly as Mueller took Wufei down with a vicious tackle, barely wincing at the dull groan Wufei made when he hit the sidewalk, his arms wrapped protectively around his head. The only thing that was on her mind was the realization that she would need some time to herself so she could think clearly. As she took another step backwards, her want for such time intensified.

"You fucking, murdering bastard!" Wufei cried as he struggled to push Mueller's heavy body off of his. Covered in scrapes, Wufei's forearms were bleeding, and he sported a nice bruise on his temple, though neither seemed to dim his rage.

"Like you're much better, letting your fucking monster of a friend kill old Solo!" Mueller countered, spittle flying from his mouth and splotching Wufei's face.

"He deserved what he got for the things he's done to Duo!" Wufei growled, his fingers digging cruelly into the gap beneath Mueller's collarbone. "That guy was a disgusting person, turning his back on Duo and treating him like such trash!"

"Maxwell is trash," snapped Mueller, fortunate that his body weight was keeping the squirming Wufei pinned to the sidewalk pretty well. "And who are you to decide who deserves what? Maybe your bitch girlfriend deserved to die!"

Mueller probably didn't even realize what he'd said or how much of a mistake it had been until it was far too late. In one fell motion, with a strength that seemed to generate from nothing, Wufei suddenly ripped his heavy assailant off, flinging him down onto his back. Moving like a professional killer, Wufei knelt over the wretched street urchin as he pummeled him mercilessly, beating his face, his torso, and anywhere he could lay his fists.

"Wufei, stop this!" Relena protested futilely, clenching her fists tightly as the brawl became more intense. The bruises on Mueller's face were becoming open wounds that bled over Wufei's knuckles.

Wufei shot a narrowed glare over his shoulder at Relena, as if he was daring her to just go on and keep with her stubborn attitude. "Shut up and keep out of this," he snarled, his voice almost alien-sounding. Turning back to Mueller, he raised his fist and sent it crashing down into Mueller's ribcage with a bone-crunching ferocity.

Despite the beating he was taking, Mueller somehow managed to summon up enough strength to speak. "Just g-go swing by old J, ok-kay?" he gasped, struggling against Wufei's onslaught.

Taking yet another step backwards, Relena nodded. Then, she turned and found herself running away from there, her long, wheat-hued hair flapping in the breeze behind her. She wasn't quite sure what was right anymore, if really going to J was something that she should do. Honestly, she was afraid not to.

Meanwhile, she left behind her a forlorn young man out to bring himself bloody satisfaction and revenge.

(x) X (x)

a.n.: Chapter title's a Led Zeppelin song. Sorry for the delay; I've got no good excuses for this one other than that I'm uber lazy. But totally happy birthday to me, lol!

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