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Five Days a Week

Fanddom: Gundam Wing
Rating: PG
Characters: The pilots. Gen
Warnings: Fluff?
Summary: A week in the boys' lives at school
Words: 1960
Notes: Part of the Masterminds Universe. Posted originally at [info]mirth4merith.

For [livejournal.com profile] merith *loves*

Two years and he still hates the uniforms.

Duo tugs at the tie, opens up the first two buttons of his shirt and dashes out the door with half a bagel on his mouth.

“Keys, keys...” Which actually sounds more like “Khews, khews...”

With practiced ease he opens the car door without dropping his backpack and before he finishes chewing he’s speeding down the road. He’s not late and maybe he could slow down a but but he discovered that if he makes it to school just twelve minutes before the hour he gets in time for the change of guard at the door... and if he’s lucky enough, he gets to put a water balloon in Drufus chair.

He hasn’t been caught yet and he’s been doing it every few weeks. Drufus suspects him but he still has no proof and without it all he can do is grunt and grumble and get red as a tomato as he says that no, he didn’t wet his pants.

Duo parks on the mall and thanks Trowa silently for discovering the place. He can’t sneak into the school the way Trowa does, not all of them as circus trained brats, thank you very much, but he can hide in the corner and sprint inside when no one is looking.

Then it’s just a matter of waiting. He hides by the bushes and waits for Herman, the night watchman, to leave the guard booth. Drufus is already walking towards it so Duo has to be quick. The balloon is pink, it’s always pink, and Duo holds it firmly before dashing for the guard post and placing it on the chair.

One would think Drufus would check the chair after being pranked this way so many times and he does, a few days after an incident, but he’s dumb enough to be confident no long after. So, as expected, he waves Herman goodbye, walks into the booth and sits down.

Duo has to bite his lip to stop himself from roaring with laughter. Drufus curses and looks for a towel. Duo takes the opportunity to dash right back out of the school and head for the car so he can officially enter later and make fun of Druffis “accident”.

He doesn’t see why people don’t get that Monday mornings can be fun.

* *

Oh Tuesdays he has Sports.

The students run laps around the indoor pool until their teacher has had enough. Trowa doesn’t really mind. His trapeze act required a lot more exertion than a bit of running but the pudgy boys that run with him are clearly in no shape.

Then there’s the group of athletes that like to run at the front, show up and pick on the slower boys. A while back they tried to recruit Trowa into the basketball team and after he just walked away from them they started to call him a circus freak. They found it hilarious too.

A little while after the whole team had then been unfortunately trapped in their locker room with a wild skunk. No one knew where it had come from or how the lock had broken but Quatre and Duo had smug expressions all week long.

“Too slow, circus boy,” yells one of them as he passes him.

Trowa keeps his pace. After this he has lunch and Heero told him they will be serving fish. He can’t stand fish. Maybe they should sneak out and have lunch at the mall. The only problem is that Wufei is the only one who has learned how to climb the outer wall of the school so far and since Duo pranked Drufus yesterday he has been extra alert so the front gate is not an option.

They need more practice with that wall. Heero is getting there but Duo thinks is just easier to sneak out the front and doesn’t try and Quatre keeps mumbling about building discreet handholds down the south east corner.

Maybe they should just order pizza. There’s forty minutes till lunch so if he calls now they should get it in time. The next time he runs by the exit he simply runs out. He goes down to the locker room, gets his cellphone and makes the call. Three large, vegetarian, pepperoni and cheese. One large bottle of coke. Delivered to the sidewalk as always. Charge to their tab.

He sends a text to the others and gets back to the pool just in time for the jumping jacks. Then he considers it and walks right out again. He has better things to do.

* *

He still doesn’t get why is drama supposed to be superior to comedy. Why is it supposed to express emotions more deeply than comedy? It’s clear that the greek favored drama but they also produced an interesting range of comedy plays so placing one over another another seems absurd. Why should one emotion be considered more important?

Heero doesn’t ask. He made the mistake of questioning Mrs Phills once last year and ended up with an extra assignment to write, which he didn’t mind, a lecture on the importance of the word of the scholars, which was quite useless since he already knew that, and a caution to wait a few years before voicing his own thoughts, which was all in all useful because he knew this particular teacher wouldn’t listen to them anyway.

He did voice his thoughts to Wufei and that proved much more fruitful. Wufei explains, debates and pretty much questions everything. Heero likes that. He learns the sources from the teacher and then challenges them with Wufei.

All in all, he enjoys his philosophy class. He doesn’t always understand right away. It’s not solved by a formula like maths, there’s more than one answer or there’s no answer at all and Heero likes the challenge. However, they seem quite inefficient. Mrs. Phills explains each thinker, assigns them readings and papers but seems to repeat herself quite a lot. Why should she explain Plato’s Poetics and stall and stall on the possible use of art when they were supposed to have read it themselves? She never added anything new and if she was going to paraphrase Plato, Heero would rather just read the work directly.

Duo always tells him just to sleep through it. Wednesday, after lunch, the perfect time to doze off. Heero thinks that would be an even worse waste of time. He settles for playing Tetris instead. He has a score to beat.

* *

“That’s stupid,” Wufei says, giving the girl a dismissive look.

“It’s not!” she defends. “If people weren’t caught up in revenge then World War I could have been avoided!”

“You really don’t use your neurons, do you? Archduke Franz Ferdinad’s assassination was nothing but a trigger,” Wufei doesn’t quite believe that he has to explain something so basic, but then again, his classmates are usually imbeciles.

“Mr. Chang! Apologize to Miss Noventa this instant,” Mr. Williams demands.

Wufei crosses his arms above his chest. “She’s wrong.”

“You do not interrupt students or call them stupid!” Mr. Williams says, outraged.

“But she is.”

Sylvia gasps and Mr. Williams turns red.

“Detention, Mr. Chang!” Williams continue. “And in the future you will refrain from sharing your opinions with the class.”

Wufei’s eyes narrow. “If she’s entitled to voice her ridiculously simplistic views on history I don’t see why I can’t call her on it.”

“Because I say so!” the teacher yells exasperated.

Wufei snorts. “You also said the Catholic Monarchs didn’t sponsor Columbus’ expedition with Moors and Jewish money seized after the expulsions.”

“Out!” Williams bellows. “Report to Lady Une. Detention! And don’t think I won’t be having a word with the principal about this.”

Wufei gathers his things and leaves. These Thursday trips to the principal office were quickly becoming an habit.

* *

“... and then you can mop the cafeteria floor.”

Quatre forces his expression to remain polite. “Is that all?” he asks in his most respectful voice.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you, Mr. Winner?” says Lady Une.

“Quite,” Quatre replies and his smile quivers a little.

When Une leaves he looks at the pile of dishes he’s supposed to wash and makes the calculation in his head of how much it would cost him just to buy a new plate set. Une probably had a bad week, otherwise she wouldn’t make Quatre clean all the dishes, wipe the tables and mop the floor. And on a Friday, no less. He hates Friday detentions above all.

It isn’t like he really deserves it. So he put powdered garlic in Sylvia Noventa’s food, clothes and hair and now no one can get within five feet of her, so what? She was calling Wufei some horrible derogatory names in the halls. She deserves it.

He sets to work on the dishes with a resigned air. He hates kitchen detentions and Une knows it.

“What did you do this time, love?” Josephine, the head cook, asks as she walks in.

Quatre gives her his best innocent smile. “I was wrongfully accused?”

She raises an eyebrow but then smiles at him. “And where’s Duo?”

“Oh I kept him out of it. He’s going to a concert tonight.”

“Taking one for the team?” Josephine picks up a plate and washes it quickly. “You’re a good friend.”

“Quatre dear, what are you doing here?” Chloe, one of the kitchen staff asks, walking in and heading straight for the sink.

Quatre sighs. “Detention.”

“On a Friday? Now that’s just cruel,” Chloe says. Quatre agrees wholeheartedly.

“And these are far too many plates,” says Becca, another member of the kitchen staff, stepping through the door. “I told so to Lady Une. It takes us an hour, working the three of us, to get it done and she wants poor Quatre here to do it all.” She shakes her head. “Oh, and I heard that Sylvia girl speaking, she had it coming!”

“Becca!” Josephine reprimands.

“Well she did,” Becca huffs and sets to work on the dishes.

“You’ll get in trouble if you help,” Quatre says, even though he’s not happy to be washing at all. “I can handle it.”

“None of that, dear.” Chloe takes the plate he is holding off his hand. “You go and have fun.”

“But Une will--”

“She already left. She gets a pedicure on Friday evenings,” Becca assures him.

Josephine gives him a nod. “Go.”

“Thank you!” Quatre gives each a hug before getting a mop and heading for the cafeteria. He’ll get the tables and the floors done in about forty minutes and then maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll make the concert.

He stops on his tracks when he opens the cafeteria doors.

“You know you can breathe through your nose, Quatre, so close your mouth,” Wufei says as greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Quatre asks, taking in the scene of his friends already half way done cleaning the cafeteria.

Heero gives a pointed look to the mop he’s using. “Building a nuclear reactor.”

“But you’ll miss the concert...” Quatre says.

Duo glares. “No one is missing the concert.”

“If you use that mop we can finish quicker,” Trowa points out.

Quatre gives them a bright smile and sets to work.

He’ll get to enjoy his friday after all.

- The End -

June 2011

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