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Crashing Down	By : kracken Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Heero/Duo Views: 2893 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I don't make any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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- 4-4
- 5-5
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Paul Tumik: Tall, thin, thick glasses, and a shock of red hair that made him look like a rooster. Supposedly he was a super genius when it came to infiltration electronic systems

Randy Carmichael: short and powerful, his black hair caught back in a pony tail, he had lively, intelligent blue eyes and a talent for weapons.

Cynthia Polente: Dark skinned, and hair buzzed very short, she had tribal tattoos all over her body and calm dark eyes that promised no nonsense and attention to detail. She was reputed to be a tactical genius

Juarez Sanchez: big and solid muscle, he looked more like an olympic weight lifter than someone who's expertise was computer systems.

Granger Porter: Another red head, but this one sported red dred locks and had a build that reminded Heero of a mountain gorilla. His arms were unusually long. His expertise was in transport vehicles on the ground and in the air.

Tommy Rajmallay, was a dusky color so dark he almost looked purple, his hair buz cut short and carved with intricate designs. He was a quiet man, always at the back of the newbies, and never answering any questions put to the group. He was supposedly a top pilot.

All of them had one thing in common, Heero thought sourly, they tested at the top of their class in virtual simulations. None of them, however had been able to pass real life testing. In fact, each personnel file listed their physical abilities as severely challenged. Trainers had entered notes that they should never be allowed missions that required them to leave command stations. Une had basically dropped into Heero's lap, a group of washouts, people who should have been released to use their talents in a safe society.

None of them had been on time. In the meeting room, they had all tried not to sit close to where Heero had placed his palm computer and a sheaf of notes. Rajmallay had sat the farthest away, hunched and staring at the floor. Tumik was sipping a coffee, eyes glazed, as if he wasn't used to waking up that early. Carmichael was glaring and tapping a blunt finger on the table, as if making a silent point. Polente was staring at her small hand computer. Narrowing his eyes, Heero could see that she was checking a social site. Sanchez looked as if he needed two chairs and was uncomfortable in the extreme with just one. Porter was sighing and staring at the ceiling as if something far more interesting than the meeting was going on up there. In his olive green fatigues and combat boots, Heero was the only one dressed as if he belonged to Preventers. The rest were dressed in civilian casual.

Heero's joints were aching and he had the beginning of a headache. Even a hot shower hadn't taken the edge off of the pain. That made him dynamite with the fuse waiting to be lit. Fuck this! he thought furiously. Fuck Une! Fuck Maxwell who hadn't bothered showing up. A corner of Heero's mind suspected, as he thumped into his seat, his knee unable to support him for a more gentle landing, that the man had taken off for parts unknown, leaving him with an assignment incomplete and washouts that he doubted even he could train to be field experts.

Heero stared at his trainees, hot gaze steady and so intense that even Porter and Polente finally noticed. When he had their attention, he said firmly, "Civilian clothes are not appropriate for field mission training. I'm going to show you why. I want all of you to run the outer course around the training field twenty five times and then report back here."

They blinked at him in disbelief. Only Porter dared a "What?" of shock.

"If you wish to file a formal protest with Une," Heero told them, "she is ready to take your resignations."

The outer course was a half mile. The sun was already baking the asphalt outside, even that early. By the time that they finished, it would be ready to fry eggs. It wasn't any place for casual slip on shoes, tight pants, and trendy layered, button down shirts.

"Don't they say that a commander shouldn't ask trainees to do what they wouldn't?" It was Duo, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, and smiling broadly. There was a glint in his eye that was a reprimand and it was aimed at Heero.

Fuck Duo!

Heero stood up, glaring. He could see expectant nods from his trainees. He was challenged. If he backed down, he wouldn't have their respect.

"Get down to the field and wait there," Heero ordered icily. When his trainees slowly complied and he was finally left alone with Duo, Heero leaned over the shorter man, furiously. "Where have you been?"

"Medical," Duo replied calmly. "I'm still undergoing treatments for the grafts."

"Is that also going to be your excuse for not running the course as well?" Heero demanded.

"Yes, it will be.... or is...." Duo chuckled. "Heero, don't get pissed because I'm calling you out for abusing our trainees. We're supposed to teach them how to be field agents, not kill them the first day asking them to do something that's not within their abilities, right now."

"They won't finish the course," Heero retorted. "They will give up long before they sustain any injuries."

"You can't give up, though," Duo said with an apologetic shrug that wasn't believable. "You'll have to set the example by finishing."

Heero felt his hand turn into a rock hard fist, a fist that could kill. The joints ached and then shot pain up his arm. He wanted to shake out the pain, but pride wouldn't let him. "What will you be doing? Watching?"

"Taking notes," Duo replied with a casualness that almost lit Heero's fuse. "They all signed up for field work even though it's obvious that they are physically incapable. Une didn't push them into this training course with us. Someone sold them on it. What we have to find out is if that sales job going to be enough to get them through our training course? Is their desire to do field work real?"

Logical, Heero thought, but wrong. Heero was almost certain that his trainees were being forced to comply to Une's wishes because of threats. With Preventers they could play with high tech toys. They wouldn't want to lose that privilege. Training might seem a necessary evil, something they were willing to endure, at least until they saw just how tough two Gundam pilot trainers could make it for them. Heero was expecting a one hundred percent drop out rate.

Duo itched the scar over his nose as he regarded Heero. It didn't look old and Heero wondered if it hurt as well as itched. The odd thought was quickly discarded as he growled angrily and shoved past Duo to go into the hallway. He heard a hiss of pain from the man, felt a flash of guilt, but then told himself that he didn't care. He, himself, was going to be in a lot of pain by the time that he finished the course, and it was all Duo's fault.

Duo was walking a few steps behind him. Heero ignored him as he pushed through a heavy set of doors into sunlight. His knees loosened up as he strode to the training field. He noticed, at once, when Duo fell back, unable or unwilling to keep that pace. Heero didn't look back at him. He was too busy forcing his body to do as he wished, pumping it full of adrenaline and telling it that it was going to run that course whether it enjoyed it or not.

The recruits look sloppy, lazy, and irritated. The coffee and the palm computers were gone, though, and they were eying the asphalt track with trepidation. Heero began jogging as he passed them, barking the simple order, "Get started!"

Heero heard them behind him. He didn't outpace them. He simply kept in front, falling into a mile eating pace that was effective as the lope of a wolf. It was a lesson, if they chose to learn it.

When Heero exercised he didn't think of anything. His mind was a blank slate, his goal all encompassing. It was relaxing that way, a form of rest that was mental, if not physical. He didn't need to make decisions, didn't need to accomplish a mission, wasn't juggling life and death in the palm of his expert abilities. There was only the burn of muscle and the steady beat of his heart filling his world.

Duo was suddenly in front of him holding a bottle of water. He smiled and motioned with it to Heero. Heero had enough time to slow and stop before running into him, to realize that he had gone blank and had kept running far more laps than he had asked his trainees to accomplish. He hadn't wanted that small, mental vacation to end. Now that his legs weren't pumping any longer, exhaustion caught up with him. He bent over, feeling hot and dizzy. Duo's arm was there for support, but offered like a friendly gesture as he put the water in Heero's hand, clapped him on the shoulder, and gave Heero his room. The water was warm. Heero uncapped it and drank it down in gulps that splashed his face.

"Still completely crazy," Duo chuckled but the concern in his eyes belied his light tone. "You never give yourself a break."

Heero splashed more water into his face and over the back of his neck. "When I'm dead," he replied between exhausted breaths.

"Just what I thought you'd say," Duo sighed, but then motioned to where the trainees were standing in a shaded area by one of the kiosks that shot cooling air at them. The men had lost shirts. Everyone looked sweaty and footsore. They were all watching Heero and Duo. "We have an audience. Make it look good Iron Man."

Heero nodded and straightened, squaring his shoulders and he forced protesting joints to close the space between them and the trainees.

"Thirty five laps," Tumik muttered in disbelief. "What the hell is he made out of?"

"Twenty credits he's bio engineered," Carmichael said sourly.

"He's shitting tough for an old man, " Polente said with some awe.

Old man? Heero frowned and glanced aside at Duo who looked amused.

"Dressing properly and using techniques to optimize your physical performance are both key to successful mission completions with minimal injuries or loss of life," Heero told them, "Tomorrow you will all dress properly and leave all un approved devices in your living quarters. Dismissed."

They left in a weary group, talking in low whispers that Heero was still able to hear. None of what they were saying was flattering.

"Short day," Duo complained as he made notes on his palm computer. Before Heero could retort Duo was giving him his observations. "Carmichael was the only one who could keep up with you, but that only lasted for nine laps. Everyone else fell out at five."

Five? Heero mouthed incredulously and then shook his head. "This is useless. These people will never be field agents."

"It's only day one," Duo pointed out. "Stop trying to kill them and start building them up."

Heero glared. "You're speaking as if I'm the only one training them."

"Well, physically, you're the only one able to," Duo reminded him. "Don't worry, I'll come in on the rest of it."

The rest of it being only a small fraction of the actual training.

"Look it as a chance to get into shape, Yuy," Duo pointed out as he turned and walked after the trainees. "You're getting soft as a pilot. You didn't run that half so well as you used to in the old days."

Heero felt the sting of that comment. His fist pounded against one thigh, punishing it for betraying him. He knew it would leave a bruise.
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Crashing Down