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'Til Death us do part	By : ClareSelley Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Crossovers Views: 896 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or Highlander, and I make no money off this.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
"Hey, Heero," Duo opened the door to the IT department before stopping short at the sight of the many desks, computers and staff in the room. Of course Yuy doesn't run the entire computer system by himself, he berated himself, Probably just most of it. Flashing a bright smile at the lady sitting at the nearest desk, he walked over. "I'm looking for Heero?"

The woman barely looked up from her screen, glancing at the proffered security ID and tapping a few keys on her keyboard. "Ah, yes, security clearance. I can deal with that if you'd like to take a seat?"

"I'd like to see Heero, actually," Duo stated, the smile remaining fixed even as his eyes flashed with irritation and he stayed standing, tucking the pass back into a pocket. "It's been a while." Of course he had to get the one person on the planet that didn't recognise his name or face.

"If you'd like to take a seat over there," the woman gestured to some seats against one wall without looking away from the screen, a frown touching her features, "I'll see if Ice is available, Night."

At least these chairs were slightly more comfortable than the previous ones, he noticed, taking a seat. The whir of the computers was soothing in its own way, he'd always got on well with technology and the chaos of the room seemed comfortingly familiar compared to the fancy offices and surroundings in the rest of the building. He'd almost dozed off by the time a thin pair of legs appeared next to him.

"What did you want, Maxwell?"

Duo came alert instantly, looking upwards to the familiar, although more mature, face of his, well, friend might be a touch too strong, but comrade was just too weak for the experiences they'd shared during the war. Fantasy definitely, even though he'd never admit it. "Hey pal, long time no see, how've you been? And can you give me fricking access to your nightmare of a system?"

"You dragged me away from security scans to ask me that? Iva here could have given you access." Heero's voice was cool, but there was an unfamiliar smile in his eyes as he clasped the braided man's arm and pulled him upwards. "It's been a while, Duo. The Commander had almost given up on you joining us."

Duo grinned back, he'd given up on Heero as a partner in any but the formal comrades-in-arms sense, but the tactile contact was a pleasant surprise. "Well, you and Trowa kept nagging until Hilde sat me down and threatened to throw my computer out the window unless I finally filled out the form." he replied, "I'm not sure Une was too impressed with some of my answers, but, hey, here I am. So, Ice, what's unfrozen you?"

"Peace is a good thing," the cobalt eyes met his own, and found the understanding there before breaking away to survey the office. "And there are good people here, working towards harmony in the Earth Sphere. When you're not focused on death, life becomes worth living."

"So, no more suicide attempts then? Did Sally sic her head-doctors on you or something?"

Heero shook his head, leading the way through the tangles of wires and boxes to an office filled with technological goodies. "One appointment was plenty to tell me they were unnecessary. Suitable time acclimatising to the new situation was all that was required." Sitting down behind the desk, he clicked a few buttons on one of the many keyboards that littered the surface. "Could I have your pass?"

The L2 pilot laughed, digging out the card and handing it over. "And there's the old Heero. I thought you couldn't have become that human."

"Hn." The Wing pilot took the card, swiping it over a reader and tapping a few more keys before grabbing a slip of paper that emerged from a printer to one side. Scribbling a few words on the paper he handed both the paper and card back to Duo. "Looking at the security records, I note you've already had a go at the system. If you can, refrain from trying to access the servers listed on the back of that paper. They're training servers for security and you'd interfere. Please remember to change your password to something secure once you've logged in." He emphasised the word secure with a wry twist of his lips. "Not Maxwell, not Deathscythe, not Shinigami, or any of the other words someone might associate with you. Letters and numbers, symbols if it's possible for you to remember them. I don't want to clean up the mess."

Putting the paper in his pocket, Duo shot his friend a withering look. "Yes, sir!" he muttered, "It's not like I was any good at security and infiltration. Not like I was able to hack into the OZ systems myself without you holding my hand. Of course I'll set my password to password immediately."

"The system won't let you. Or any other dictionary words."

"Oh joy, a system that eliminates password possibilities. Isn't that less secure?"

"When you have several external attempts a day using dictionary words, no, it isn't." Heero stated flatly, glancing at a monitor. "Now if you'll excuse me, there's several matters I need to attend to. I'm sure you'll be visiting again." The slight smile playing in the dark blue eyes belied the cold tone as he bent his head to the keyboards, burying himself back into the code. Whether it would be when the Deathscythe pilot got caught by one of his carefully hidden security traps or because he'd changed everyone's wallpaper to an obscene image, Heero wasn't quite sure yet, but he was certain he'd be back within the week.

Letting himself out of Heero's office, Duo idly wondered who the other man's babysitter was. There was no room for another desk in the cramped room and it didn't look like anyone who sat near the door was a suitable partner for the Japanese man. As he passed the exit desk, he turned a charming smile onto the lady who'd initially greeted him, "Miss Iva is it? Would you mind telling me who Ice's partner is?"

The woman glanced up, irritation crossing her features before she smoothed them away to a polite smile. "Agent Sea," she answered calmly, "also known as Dree Winner. One of Mr Winner's sisters I believe. If that's all?" she asked, turning back to her computer and leaving Duo blinking in surprise.

Now that was one for the books, Mr cold-as-ice Yuy teamed up with a woman? Not that he had anything against Vice Foreign Minister Darlian, Heero had been watching over her for a while before he'd joined the Preventers and he thought that the Wing pilot had feelings for her - the guy definitely wasn't interested in men. After the Mariemaia debacle, Une had coaxed the dark haired man to join the organisation, his talents in security and computer systems routed towards the organisation's use. Relena was never going to be a close friend of his though, her voice grated on him.

As he took the stairs to his own office - and God, that sounded good, his own office, even if he did have to share it - he made a mental note to catch Quatre at some point and ask about this Dree, There was also a quiet sense of glee that Heero hadn't tried banning him from the personnel records - it wouldn't have worked anyway, but at least the other pilot retained some confidence in his hacking skills.

Not that he was at all curious about his own partner at all.

Entering his office after grabbing a coffee from the shared supply in the kitchen on the same floor, he noticed said partner had his head stuck in what looked like a mountain of paper and winced, hoping that his desk wouldn't end up covered in a similar pile. He loathed paperwork with a passion. Even his mission reports had covered less than a side of paper while Heero’s had approached epic length. He’d peered over the Wing pilot’s shoulder in a safehouse once and every single little bitty tiny detail had been mentioned in the document, so he’d tried adding a few more facts to his own afterwards, but given up. G hadn't ever complained, so he assumed that his reports were just fine, thank you very much.

The older man didn't seem to notice his arrival, and with a glare at the folder sitting innocently on his desk the braided man took the time to really look around the office. It was pretty much split down the middle, the door halfway along the long side opposite the windows. His side was bare, empty save for a few manuals and stationary items next to the computer, the two black metal desks at right angles to the window the backs against each other.. Several functional black bookcases with empty binders sat behind the chair on the short wall and a few pictures of pretty but boring landscapes hung on the long wall on his side.

The other side was a mirror image in setup, but that was where the similarities ended. Neat rows on most of the shelves were full of binders stuffed with what Duo assumed were mission reports and other information, the desk was liberally spread with paperwork and the pictures on the wall had been replaced with what looked like ancient photographs of Earth.

One bookcase however seemed full of more personal items and watching his partner out the corner of his eye, he crept closer to get a look at the various objects and books spread over the shelves. A low whistle escaped his lips as he scanned across. "That can't be as old as it looks," he muttered, reaching out to carefully lift a book from the shelves and flick through what felt like genuine wood paper. The last time he'd seen this type of stuff was in that researcher's office, what the hell was a Preventer doing with this? It wasn't like the salary was that great after all.

"Ahem."

Duo spun, clutching the book to his chest and grasping at the mug of coffee before more than a few drops found their way onto the carpet. His braid whipped behind him, catching a vase with the tip of the chestnut mass. The porcelain wobbled loudly in the silence before settling back into place as Duo let out a breath he'd hardly realised he was holding and felt a faint heat moving up his face. "Oh, hi, Dunc. I didn't think you'd mind..."

"It's MacLeod. Or Duncan. Or Mac if you must," Duncan said, holding a hand out for the book. "And it's generally polite to ask before you touch." Taking the proffered object, he rose and replaced it carefully on the shelf. "If you must know, I'm a bit of a collector, and, yes, every object here is indeed as old, or older than it looks."

"Wow." Making a mental note to have a closer look when Duncan, Mac, wasn't in the room, Duo moved over to the photographs on the wall. "And these?"

"Ah, Scotland, land of my ancestors," the unusual accent deepened as the man spoke, a fond smile starting to form as he examined the pictures. "No, they're quite real, preserved behind special glass that shields them from the harmful light, and I'd estimate they're around 750 years old by now. This one is Loch Shiel in autumn, and this one the church at Glenfinnan, where my ancestors were buried."

"That's what things used to look like?" Duo stared with fascination at the landscapes, the bright colours of the leaves blazing through the what he assumed was fog rising from the, what did he call it, a loch, and the grey of the stone surrounding a detailed circular window on the church contrasting with the pure green of the grass below. "Before the colonies?"

Duncan shook his head sadly, brown hair sweeping his shoulders, "Well before the colonies went up into space, Duo, the church stood firm until it was swallowed by the rising waters of the loch in 2108AD, that was over 500 years before the AC era started and after the re-unification of England. Scottish history is a fascination of mine - the Clans on L4 try to keep the Gaelic spirit alive, but there's only so much they can do. A couple of hundred more years and no one will remember her except as a legend to a picture or an extract in a book. I want to do all I can to keep the memory alive."

"Clans? You mean like 'Fei's Clan?" Duo absorbed the information eagerly, the still vibrant photographs so different to the grey dull environment of L2, and even the war ravaged lands of Earth that he'd seen. They had a kind of peace that reached out to him that he'd only ever felt deep in space staring at the glowing orb of the planet below.

"Chang Wufei? He's from the Chinese Clans of L5 isn't he?" At Duo's nod he continued, warming to one of his favourite topics, "The Changs are part of the Long Clan if I recall correctly and the idea is very similar, my Clan is the Clan MacLeod, and like the Longs we trace our lineage through our fathers, share common ancestors and have an ancestral home. The MacLeod one was at Glenfinnan, Gleann Fhionnainn in the old Gaelic tongue, on the shores of Loch Shiel, which crumbled into disrepair a century or two ago." For a moment the man looked off into the far distance before blinking and turning a friendly smile on his new partner, the deep Gaelic lilt fading as the distance in his eyes receeded. "I've seen pictures, but I'd have loved to go there before the damage was done."

Duo kind of wished he could have too, the man's tone showed how much he loved his ancestral home. "I've never been to America, that's where my ancestors are from likely, given what I've read of the history of L2, but I've never heard anyone talk about somewhere they've never even seen the way you do. Sounds like a beautiful place."

"It was, it really was."

Duncan's voice was tinged with sadness and Duo decided to try a different question, "So what does Mack Cloud mean anyway?"

The separation between the words were obvious and Duncan couldn't help the laugh that burst out of him as he corrected the other man, twisting around to grab the name plate that sat on his desk. "It's MacLeod, all one word."

"I can't help it if your accent makes it sound like that," Duo returned, Although I wouldn't mind hearing you say other things with it, pal, he thought privately, you sound just like chocolate tastes. Tilting his head to one side, he looked at Mac thoughtfully before making another attempt at the name.. "Mackleod," he shook his head, his own accent stumbling over the 'c' sound and grinned at the Scot's grimace. "I think I'll stick with Mac, if that's OK with you?"

"Probably safest," Duncan replied before turning back to his desk. "Now I have a report from my last job to write up, and you have the choice of reading either the folder you seem to dislike so much or," he paused and raised an eyebrow at Duo, "our first job briefing as a team arrived in my inbox while you were out, maybe you'd prefer..." He trailed off as the younger man disappeared in a whirl of black and chestnut behind his monitor.

A few hours later Duncan stretched, tensing and relaxing his back muscles as he lifted his hands from the keyboard, typing a quick email to the debriefing team and attaching the report. The other man was still buried in the briefing and associated document, although there had been a few gagging noises after a loud slurp and the sound of a mug being pushed to one side violently which had made him grin, the office coffee was indeed foul and he'd long ago abandoned it for his own blend. He stood up and moved carefully round behind him, pleased to see that it was actually the briefing document and not some web game, lightly tweaking the braid hanging down his back.

He wasn't quite prepared by the reaction - the chair whirled round, violet eyes flaring into dark purple as he was shoved backwards into the thankfully empty bookcases. "Never. Ever. Touch. My. Hair." Duo hissed, his hand going to his waist where his knives would normally sit, glaring up at Duncan with cold eyes, the friendly exterior melting into furiousness.

Duncan raised his arms slowly, his palms open and forced his body to relax to a neutral pose. "I'm sorry," he said calmly, knowing that any sudden movements would likely make the situation worse and for the first time seeing the deadly warrior that lurked within the exuberant teenager. He had known that the ex-Gundam pilot was skilled in stealth and infiltration, and lethal in his mobile suit, but he'd been unable to reconcile the man in front of him with the self-named God of Death. Now he could see the darkness swirling under the man's skin which somehow reassured him as Duo backed away, his shoulders dropping and a touch of light drifted back into the amethyst irises.

"Don't do it again, OK, Mac?" Duo growled, glancing away as he flexed his hands, shrugging his shoulders to try and force his body to relax before he tried to strangle his new partner. That definitely would not be a good way to end his first day.

Deciding that they both needed to work out some stress, Duncan eased himself away from the bookcase slowly, "How about I show you the gym now? I usually go in about an hour or so, but I think we could both do with a bit of stress relief."

"That... might be a good idea," Duo acknowledged, forcing the tension to leave his body - and Shinigami back into his box - as he quickly shut the computer down, swiping his card off the desk and waiting for his partner as the taller man collected his belongings and shrugged on the long leather coat that had been hanging on a hook behind the chair, grabbing a sports bag that had been hidden under the desk. "Nice coat," he asked as they exited the room, "real leather?"

The Scot nodded, "Cost a fair bit, but it's quality and you can't go wrong with that." Leading the way to the stairs, he started upwards, "No point in taking the lift if you're going to the gym. It's on the 15th floor." And with that and a challenging smirk, Duncan took off up the stairs.

A feral flash of teeth and the Deathscythe pilot was following.

A few minutes later the two men reached the floor the Preventer gym was situated on together, both of them breathing heavily from the fast sprint up eleven floors. Waving their passes at the door, the sleek glass slid back to reveal a corridor with changing room doors leading off it to the right and a small reception that Duncan gestured to with one hand.

"If you ask at the reception, they'll be able to lend you something for today - I'm assuming you've got workout clothes in your luggage?"

The pilot nodded, "Thanks, Mac. I'll see you in there?"

"I'll be over by the mats, on the left as you go in," his partner replied, heading into the changing room.

After a quick conversation with the receptionist, Duo found himself in possession of a couple of fluffy white towels, a loose pair of black workout trousers and some trainers, both in his size, and a loose white t-shirt that would be a little baggy on his slim frame, but that wasn't really a problem, he'd probably strip it off if it got too hot anyway. Finally, a sheet of paper, another damn form, requested the results of some easy tests for medical's information.

After a quick shower and a change, including twisting his braid into a tight bun to keep it off his neck and out of the sweat, he made his way into the main gym to look for Mac. A few moments later he saw him, standing still on a mat in loose black trousers similar to his own, eyes closed in a quiet pose, his hands in front of him as if he was praying, and his dark hair tied back into a neat ponytail. The quiet strength reminded Duo of a coiled snake. Wow, he has some body, he raked his eyes over the tanned figure, admiring the muscular arms and defined chest that had been hidden under the uniform shirt. A few seconds later and he realised how apt that comparison was as the brown eyes flew open and the taunt limbs sprung into action, performing swift and sharp movements, his arms and legs twisting and turning in a flowing sinuous routine.

It seemed like only moments later that the movements stopped, the man gracefully returning to the pose he'd started in, his breathing heavy but controlled and a thin sheen of sweat coating the tanned skin. Nice, Duo smiled to himself, Very nice. He watched the Scot bonelessly collapse onto the mat in a sitting position, legs crossed and both feet resting on his thighs, breathing slowing to normal as his head was limply bowed.

He had no idea what kind of manoeuvres the other man had been doing, but it had caused stirrings in parts of his anatomy that were really not appropriate for a public gym. That was the hottest thing he'd seen for quite some time - the last time he'd seen semi-naked sweaty men had been on the scrapyard in L2, and none of those had been attractive, more of the heavy set muscular brutes that seemed to gravitate towards the manual labour trade on L2, especially when they were lugging pieces of steel around a dusty yard. He didn't want to think about some of them even attempting the motions he'd just seen.

Duncan on the other hand was all fluid muscle and sinew, and Duo had to resist the urge to lick his lips at the idea of licking the sweat off his partner. This was so not good, how the hell was he meant to work with a guy like this? He hoped silently that the vigorous exercise would cause the hard on that was forming to disappear.

Walking over to the mats, Duo flopped himself on the mats next to the relaxed Scot, ensuring the loose t-shirt flopped over to hide the hardness. "Hey, Mac, that was impressive, where'd you learn to do that?"

"It's called a kata, a form of oriental martial arts training that I learnt years ago. I find it relaxing when I'm stressed. And simple ones like that always make for a good opening to a training session. I've seen Dragon up here occasionally doing them too." Even the brown eyes that blinked open were relaxed, the accent deep and almost purring as Duncan stretched his arms above his head, the muscles rippling in a distracting way. "If you want, I can show you some easy ones if you're interested?"

The pilot brandished the hated form. "First I have to fill this out before Sally sends 'Fei to hunt me down for it." He scanned it with a groan. "Heart rate standing, heart rate after 30 minutes of heavy exercise, number of jumping jacks able to perform in three minutes, time taken to run 100m, time taken to run 1500m, regular exercise routine, eating and drinking habits again...Did you have to fill out this shit when you joined?"

"Standard procedure I'm afraid," his partner shrugged, "there's a basic heart rate machine in the corner over there, and then we can warm up on the mats and treadmills before doing the other parts?"

With a resigned sigh, Duo stood and made his way over to the machine.

Minutes later, he found himself stretching out next to the other man on the mats, grateful for his natural flexibility as the older man put him to shame with his twisting and splits. He's as good as Trowa, Duo thought wryly, trying to keep up with the other man's low and deep lunges, A true acrobat. He never could keep up with the green-eyed pilot in stunts, preferring the less flashy ways of escaping by stealth rather than leaps and handflips, but he had to admit that flexibility did have its merits. Bad brain. Bad.

His limbs were warm and starting to relax when Duncan suggested that they move onto the treadmill, and start the rest of the questionnaire. With a grimace he agreed, he hated treadmills. They were boring and monotonous and didn't offer any distractions other than a generally useless radio and some boringly basic television channels. Although this time he did have a handsome guy to ogle, except he doubted that Mac would appreciate that thought.

As he began a light jog, he kept his eyes on the TV screen in the front of the machine, switching it to an inane music channel and plugging the set of headphones into his ears, refusing to glance at the guy next to him, although his imagination was painting a picture that he really didn't need. Luckily the earlier stretching had removed the earlier symptoms of his interest. God, he hadn't been this interested in another man since he'd realised Heero just wasn't interested in him. Unluckily for him it seemed Une had done her profiling far too well, except for the small fact that Mac didn't seem to remotely return the interest.

Pumping the speed up as a pounding old metal song started over the headphones, the screen pronouncing it as an old pre-colony song in a language that had died a death years ago, but then language didn't matter, just the beat that ran through him as he upped the pace to match the tempo. He was glad he'd tied his hair on top of his head as the sweat started to trickle down his back, and he pulled the t-shirt over his head, glad to be free of the sticky material as he tossed it onto the rail.

He was surprised when a hand passed in front of his face, pulling the cord from the headphone socket and startling him into almost stumbling. "That's definitely thirty minutes," a Scottish accent informed him, which, Duo noted with annoyance, was barely out of breath. "Go get your pulse checked and then we can move on to the last few required exercises and I can show you a few simple katas."

"What were you, an army instructor before you joined?" the Deathscythe pilot muttered, but he switched the treadmill off and hopped off before it'd come to a complete stop.

"There." He tossed the scrap of paper with the readout and his t-shirt onto the bench where he'd dumped the first slip and the form on the way back to the mats and grabbed a swig from the water fountains placed around the edge of the room. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he noted the time and started the jumping jacks. He even managed to put some enthusiasm into the jumps, there was no reason to give Sally any reason to deny him the chance to carry out his first mission.

His legs were aching when Duncan's voice called a halt and he collapsed onto the mat panting. "You know, even G wasn't this sadistic."

"Nothing said you had to go straight from the treadmill to the mats," the Scot said with an amused tone "You managed 204, not bad."

Duo grinned, "Better than you, old man?"

"Don't call me that."

The reply snapped back like the crack of a whip, causing Duo to glance with confused violet eyes over to where the other guy stood still, his muscles tense and his brown eyes flashing with anger as he stared into the distance. "Hey, it was a joke, OK, buddy?" he raised one hand tiredly, "Nothing bad meant, you're just older than me, 'kay?"

Duncan shook his head, a few wisps of hair flying loose around his face, the almost sad look in his gaze fading as he dismissed the memory flying through his mind.

A blonde male, Richie, lounging on a sofa in front of the TV, teasing a whipcord thin guy with tousled brown hair and warm amused eyes, a beer in its accustom place in his hand.

"Hey, old man, what did you know of these guys then?" Richie gestured to the Discovery channel program he'd flicked over to, no doubt seeing an opportunity for mischief.

The other man, Methos, his memory whispered to him, just shook his head, taking the jibe in stride. "I might be old but the Jurassic's a little before my time, youngster."

"It's OK, Duo, Just an old memory. Don't worry about it, youngster." He managed to summon up a return shot, resisting the urge to wince as he echoed his friend's words.

"Yeah, OK, I get your point, pal," OK, so maybe the age jokes weren't a good idea, he'd stick with Mac and Scot. At least for now anyway. At least out loud. At least until he had a better handle on his new partner's personality.

Standing and grabbing a towel of a rack, he distracted himself with towelling himself off before the sweat could dry on his body. He'd no idea what had set the other man off, but he hated the uncomfortable silence that seemed to be settling between the two of them even as other people started wandering into the gym, the clock ticking over to the official end of the day.

Duncan was grateful for the silence - uncomfortable as it was - as he dragged himself back to the present. A lot had happened since that day and sometimes he felt like the memories were drowning him even as he swum upwards towards the current time. But he'd live with it. He always would. He was even more grateful when a familiar face walked through the door, wooden dao in hand and headed towards the mats to warm up.

"Chang Wufei, I would be honoured if you would spar with me later?"

"Duncan MacLeod, I do not much have that much time this evening, myself and Water will be away for a few days on a mission, but I always enjoy our duels. I shall make time to spar with you when I return."

Duo blinked, the sound of the melodious language the two men spoke in was somewhat familiar to him, and he could at least recognise it as Chinese from the time he'd spent with 'Fei, but he had no idea what the hell they were saying other than names, and he was even more curious about where the Scot had learnt to speak it not only seemly fluently but with the same accent, the Gaelic only tinting the tonal sounds.

"You guys going to tell me what you're talking about?" he rounded on Duncan as the man gave a short bow to the Shenlong pilot, before moving over to a long bag that the braided man hadn't noticed resting against the wall next to the Scot's gym bag. "And where the bloody hell you learnt to speak like that?"

"I had lessons," came the response as the Preventer pulled out a bundle from the bag, and unwrapped a long wooden sword shaped object that was similar, Duo realised, to the one 'Fei had been carrying, but a different shape and more slender, laying it down carefully on a bench before beginning his stretching. Realising he wasn't going to get anything more from his new partner who was walking back towards the mats and taking up a similar position to when he had entered the gym, albeit with the wooden sword involved, he took the opportunity to take a seat and rub his aching muscles. Po, he decided, or whoever came up with these tests, was sadistic. He was fit, you had to be lugging bits of scrap and metal around a yard all day, but intensive exercise? Jumping bloody jacks? Running? Yeah, like he'd done that for at least a year. Jogging, sure, several times round the block with Hilde before breakfast, although after a cup of coffee, and the carrying counted as weightlifting, although his silly body never had seemed to get the idea of bulking out the way Duncan's had.

Talking of Mac, he looked up to see the man performing what looked to be even more complex manoeuvres with the sword, his glistening skin giving lie to the smooth almost effortless motions as he danced around the mat. Now the brown haired man was even more of a mystery - swordsman, fluent Chinese speaker, collector of historical objects, and an obsession with a country that had sunk under the water hundreds of years ago for God's sake! 'Fei was standing off to one side, watching the Scot critically, although Duo couldn't see anything to complain about in the silky movements and slashing cuts.

He frowned as Duncan once more came to a silent rest, his chest barely heaving with the effort. The motions reminded him far too much of the last swordsman he'd faced in battle, not that he'd studied much of the style that Pierson had been using - he'd been more focused on trying to stay alive than memorising the exact stances and cuts the man had directed at him. Then 'Fei stepped up, his own sword in hand. This should be good, Duo thought, the Chinese pilot had stripped to the waist, showing that even having been stuck in a Gundam for years hadn't stopped his colleague from bulking out and definitely maturing into his elegant good looks, his hair now sweeping his shoulder blades, and his body now matching the maturity in his onyx eyes that all the pilots had earned in the war.

The two of them bowed to each other before bringing their swords into a guard position. Trained in daggers, the stances were faintly recognisable, but Duo guessed from the formal Oriental greeting that the fight would be also be in an Asian style. Then there was only the thwack of the blades against each other in the whirling dance.

Resisting the urge to lick his lips as he watched the two men for whom the world had narrowed to each other and their blades, Duo levered himself up off the bench. He'd better go and do the bloody 100m and 1500m runs - he really didn't want Sally to send the other Gundam pilot after him after that little display of expertise. He knew that 'Fei had been damn good with the sword in the war, but now? Now the dragon was amazingly good.

Throwing the headphones back in, he switched the treadmill to road mode, setting the timer for 100m and took a start position. Moments later his legs blurred into motion and the timer began. Seconds after that the machine beeped and he slowed, letting his head rest against his chest before glancing up at the screen. 10.41 seconds - not bad for someone as out of shape as he was.

His head turned to see Mac and 'Fei still dancing, and the Scot's sword sweeping down to catch the pilot's leg. A flash of admiration shone in the onyx eyes as he acknowledged the strike and some more seemingly random sounds in the Chinese accent. Watching the two of them together he felt a pang of, well, jealousy. He was familiar with the bloody feeling after all, Relena's chasing of Heero - before the Wing pilot had made it pretty obvious that he wasn't interested in guys - had sparked it off a time or two. Duncan hadn't shown the slightest bit of indication either way and, hey, he could dream right?

Feeling his body relax after the run, he took a swig of water and rubbed himself down with a towel before resetting the infernal machine to 1500m and groaning. "This is so not fun." he muttered, taking a deep breath and stepping back on the thing and back into the start position.

"You know, I only scored that hit on you because you were watching our mutual friend?" Duncan said calmly in Chinese as they reset their positions. "You realise that he ran an under 10.5 second 100 meters?"

He was sure the flash of admiration in the Chinese pilot's eyes was for Duo's speed - it was a more than impressive time, especially for someone who'd been out of active training for a year. It was a more than impressive time for an athlete in full training.

"Maxwell has always been full of surprises." Chang acknowledged, as Duncan spun round to find his blade blocked and cold black eyes above the other sword. "But then, so am I." A small smile slipped over the pilot's lips as he ducked around the blade, twisting and bringing the wood up against the Scot's throat before the man realised what was happening.

He felt his eyes widen at the warmth against his jugular and struggled to hold down the instinct to fight for his life, for his head. And then the blade was removed, Chang backing off and bowing politely. "You fought well, Duncan MacLeod."

"And yourself, Chang Wufei. I yield." Duncan replied in the same language, before lowering his blade and forcing himself to relax. It was not often he met a swordsman with enough skill to touch his neck. Silently he vowed to never get into a live steel fight with Dragon. To distract himself, deciding to analyze the combat later, he turned to watch his partner running on the treadmill. He had to admit that the boy was remarkably fit given his last year out of any combat training. He recalled something in the violet eyed man's file, a saying, 'I may run and hide but I never lie,' well, he was certainly good at running.

Packing up the bokken and towelling himself off, looking forward to the showers, he waited patiently for Duo to finish the exercise, stretching his limbs to prevent them tensing up. The almost familiar braid had started to slip from its bun, slapping against the boy's back and he wondered for a moment why the man insisted on the extremely long hair, it had to be a hindrance in combat. Then the treadmill slowed and he watched as Duo took in the time with a grin. With his own look at the clock, he had to be impressed, Around four minutes. That was fast.

Shrugging the bags on his back, he moved over to where Duo had stepped off the treadmill, panting heavily. "You're fast."

"Pal, I had to be fast in the war," the braided pilot shrugged, stretching himself out. "Looks like I've not lost my touch."

Duncan grinned, his body relaxed from the exertion, "Look, how about we go for a drink, I can show you the rest of the building and we can get to know each other better."

Returning the grin, Duo nodded, "Sounds like a plan, though you know Une'll kill us if you let me drink alcohol." And I have absolutely no objection to getting to know you better, he thought silently with an inner smirk.
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'Til Death us do part