Agent Chang Wufei

Wufei stands up from behind the washing machine, scattered parts littering the floor around him in various stages of disassembly. He settles a scathing look at his housemate and upturns the wire basket, shaking it until several metal things clatter out onto the top of the machine.

Selecting one, Wufei picks it up with two fingers and gives it a cursory inspection. He’s holding up one of Heero’s miniature screw drivers, raising his brow accusingly at Heero who stands in the doorway with Mini Wing on his shoulder. The screwdriver has sharpied Viking markings on it and intricately woven electric tape around the handle.

Laughing out loud, Zechs reaches out to gently pat Wufei’s shoulder. “All in good fun, my friend. But seriously. We should do lunch or dinner sometime. Man as beautiful as you should not be single.”

Wufei’s gaze tracks Zechs’ antics. First the hand on his shoulder, than his calling him friend at one moment, and potential date at the next? The taller man has the nerve to look Wufei straight in the face and call him beautiful.

Wufei’s eyes narrow. It’s a reflex, more than anything. The tight frown he takes on when considering new information he’s not sure what to do with. Opting to at least attempt to ignore that compliment altogether, Wufei skips over to the matter at hand.

“And.. to be clear,” he pauses, thinking his way through this as he speaks, “You wish to be the man to take me off the market, is that it?”

“If I have the chance, then yes, I shall take it.” Zechs nods slightly with a soft smile. “But, should you allow me to even try, I will make it worth your while.” And then some, he thought.

Well there it was. A clear declaration that Zechs Merquise wants to, what.. date him? What an absurd revelation, considering the lives they’ve lived up until now. Sure, the others had paired together and made something of a life for themselves, but that had seemed detached from Wufei and not his concern.

Now here was his own opportunity put before him and he wonders if the others had felt the same at this juncture. He tilts his head slightly, attempting to read Zechs’ handsome face. Wufei cannot guess his motives and it needles him, why now? A worrisome knot forms and Wufei wonders if his admiration toward the former Lightening Count had been made known to him.

Winner always had that knowing look about him.. infuriating, really. And that indignation is a solid foundation for Wufei to continue this conversation even if he can feel his heart against his ribs.

“DUO! I-”… Wufei’s snarl trails off, his ponytail coming to rest from having whipped his head around.

His black eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his own tongue watching a taller culprit walk past him. Blonde hair. Broad shoulders.

He knew just what Wufei was thinking. Go to a spa, get a little “happy ending”, have the knowledge that someone else had touched you, seen you exposed and made a fallacy of an intimate moment. Zechs himself had no such issue with that sort of activity, but he would never suggest that to Wufei. Wufei was too precious and too important for that.

“Wait-” Wufei hears himself say and blinks, not having planned to have said that. Nor had he planned to have reached out and firmly gripped the cuff of Zechs’ sleeve in one hand. The elevator doors slide back open with a small chime and silence stretches.

Where had the last few minutes come from? Wufei regards the displeased frown on Zechs’ face, the wounded irritation and exhales slowly. There was no reason this meeting had to end like this. Long hours and all other excuses aside, Wufei was better than this. Even if Zechs was jumping to ridiculous asumptions.

“Wufei, have you ever been to a spa? I feel like that is not your typical venture, but I also feel as though you could benefit greatly from it.”

Wufei hadn’t expected the rambling discourse he may have gotten from Duo or Quatre, but he was surprised at Zechs’ sudden stillness as they walked together. Even more so that it didn’t feel terribly uncomfortable, only marginally anxious in a way new situations are.

Wufei could sense he was being sized up and couldn’t blame the man, he’d been doing the same. Space had done little to deter the strength of the larger man’s build and Wufei found Zechs to be every bit as formidable in presence as the late Khushrenada.

When Zechs did speak again Wufei reasoned he must be too tired to be surprised any longer by his visitor’s erratic inquiries. The topic only perplexed him. “A spa?” Wufei scoffed a moment later, implying a inherently negative answer. “No. For many reasons, and frankly I’m surprised you don’t share them.”

Well, maybe nothing entirely unholy. Would Zechs want a go at Wufei? As much as anyone else would, certainly. But at least Zechs had the wisdom to see that Wufei would never in his life be a cheap and quick fuck. No, to pair with Wufei would be to court him, to date him, and to quite possibly form a monogamous relationship with him. Was Zechs prepared for that? Probably. Was Wufei? Who the hell knew?

For as much as he came at odds with those he spoke with, Wufei has always been forthright and honest in both language and expression. It isn’t hard to guess what he’s thinking from one moment or the next based solely on the words from his mouth or the look on his face. Zechs came from a different background.

The taller man’s explanation was kind and sincere, but the look was something else and Wufei frowned, taking it all in. ‘Unholy’, indeed. Even the mock salute he wasn’t sure was a facetious jab at his standings with the Commander. But that was unlikely; Une really did favor him.

Furthermore, Wufei was relieved it hadn’t been Meiran that had had a talk with Zechs regarding this scenario. She was more in tune with a certain number of Wufei’s preferences and could have made this run-in that much more uncomfortable had she disclosed any number of them to Zechs.

As much fun as it was to tickle Wufei’s irritability, Zechs by no means wanted to make an enemy of the man. In an effort to assuage him, he continued. “No, Wufei, I know you’re capable, more than capable, of taking care of yourself. Your work ethic is stellar and truly something to look up to. I was just… asked… to make sure that you actually left the office tonight. Technically the words were ‘got some sleep’, but that would require following you to and in your home and I doubt I have that level of permission.” The blond raised an eyebrow at his companion curiously but hardly expected more than a nasty look.

Peculiar he should mention Maxwell, Wufei thinks, when Zechs’ banter is sounding somewhat liken to that brand of teasing. But this has a different shade to it. Duo was usually on a clear mission to irritate Wufei and prod him into some sort of reaction or retaliation that the American found humorous for one reason or another. But this? From Zechs it was different. It felt different.

It wasn’t just that Zechs’ higher upbringing had him courteous enough to temper the teasing with a following of mild flattery. Delivered in that smooth voice, Wufei could acknowledge how some other person may find themselves forgiving Zechs his untoward jesting. But Wufei wasn’t your typical person, and attempts at flatter only heightened his distrust and surly participation in this conversation. He’s ready to voice another rebuttal when the argument flutters from his brain, lost with the failing of his language skills for the second time in as many minutes.

“...doubt I have that level of permission.” Zechs finishes, his voice lifting like a goddamn question and his expression daring to hold some level of hopefulness to it. What the hell, was he really standing here not 5 minutes to Wufei’s knowledge back from Mars and asking Wufei to invite him to his home?

For a moment Wufei is embarrassed to note he’s done nothing but blink and open his mouth to speak without words. Contrary to popular belief, he has no mind to be immediately rude and can’t for the life of him form a solid reason to refuse Zechs the invitation, even though his instincts are screaming to end this interaction and go about his solitary business.

What’s the harm? They’re both done their work. Wufei has no plans for the rest of the evening. There is the prospect of intellectual conversation and catching up with news from their mutual travels..

“I have always been around, Wufei.” Maybe everyone he’d ever met was right. Maybe Zechs was an asshole after all, what with that being his favorite line to respond to that question with. “Perhaps you’ve just been looking in the wrong spots? But come, then. Let’s go. I’m not sure I’ll get sleep tonight, but I don’t want to stay here until the next shift starts, hm?”

The stern set of Wufei’s features gradually shifts into sheer confusion the more Zechs explains himself. And confound the bastard, but he still has yet to answer Wufei’s question in a straight-forward manner.

What was Zechs doing here, looking in on Wufei in the first place? Last he knew, Zechs had been on Mars.

True, Wufei’d heard rumor that Agent Wind was picking up a few tasks for Commander Une on the outskirts of Preventer’s usual circuits, but Wufei hadn’t heard anything about him coming back to Earth. And that had absolutely nothing to do with him arriving to ‘check in’ on him now.  Since when did they have that sort of understanding? Since never, Wufei was pretty sure.

The regal smile on the taller man only manages to farther halt Wufei’s scattered thoughts. They come to a grinding halt faced with that devilish display. Suddenly Wufei feels completely out of his element in his own office and he doesn’t like it. This day is just going on and on, and he’s had enough of it.

With muddled thoughts of varying obscenities referencing certain pompously attractive privileged individuals, Wufei moves past Zechs out into the hall. “Hard to look in the wrong places if I wasn’t looking in the first place..” he grumbles, tired of whatever this game is and perhaps a bit defensive in lieu of the path his mind had just taken him.

But Zechs’ next words have Wufei stopping again, turning to look up at him. What’s with this ‘let’s go’ talk? Wufei’s brows pull together, the outer corner of one arching sharper than the other. “Merquise.. I suppose I appreciate the gesture of suggesting I leave at a decent time, but I don’t need an escort out.” he tries to explain, his voice stern but not exactly unkind. He doesn’t appreciate his work ethic being called into question, towards one extreme or the other.

Wufei has become accustomed to random people sticking their heads in his door to drop some news or ask about the progress of a certain job. It bothered him at first, but he quickly realized it was a necessity. Intel has to move fast in this line of work, and instant communication is pivotal in keeping the progress smooth and accelerated. Open-door policy was the first of many obstacles he has been forced to embrace.

This being the case, Wufei should not have jumped in his skin at this interruption. It must have been that deep, smooth voice. He had recognized it at the first syllable.

Wufei takes in the sight of Zechs Merquise filling his doorway. Black eyes are steady and assessing, but his heart is racing at this new development and he has to work hard to keep his face from showing only the mildest suspicion.

“Merquise…” he states easily, dry. Wufei glances at the time and then back at his visitor, wondering what else Zechs may have heard about his working habits and whether the Commander had scolded him about it.

Ignoring the taunt altogether, Wufei stands out of courtesy and invitation. “What are you doing here?”

That may have come out a bit more accusatory than he had planned.

“I believe that, short of the janitorial staff, you and I are the only ones left here,” Zechs replied easily, leaning against the door frame with the barest of smiles. “I wanted to make sure that you hadn’t fallen asleep or anything like that. Or, if you had, that you were at least comfortable and not drooling on reports.”

Eyeing the other, Zechs wondered about his reception. He wasn’t familiar with Wufei just yet and couldn’t get a good read on him; was he really as angry as he seemed? Zechs felt as though he would need to speak to the commander about this later. Not now, of course, because not only would she kill him for interrupting either late night television or sleep, but Zechs was a little preoccupied with someone far more interesting. Wufei’s once-compatriots were easy enough to figure out, but Wufei himself was a mystery. Who was he? What did he stand for? What did he do late at night when no one was around? All important questions.

Wufei’s face twists into something unpleasant, insulted; clearly not appreciating the notion that he’d ever manage to ‘drool’ on anything, especially classified reports let alone fall asleep while at work. He scowls in thought, wondering when he’d ever have given Zechs reason to think him that unprofessional.

“Hardly.” Wufei answers, closing his laptop with one hand and moving to straighten a folder full of papers, tucking it into his bag. His hands feel unsteady, and his mind is equally unorganized.

Zechs hadn’t answered his original question and Wufei didn’t think he could ask again without sounding more rude than his initial inquiry. His scowl deepens, not knowing where to go from here if he can’t get even that answered.

Fuck it. “What are you doing here?” he repeats, slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way around his desk. Perhaps it was time he headed home.

Wufei has become accustomed to random people sticking their heads in his door to drop some news or ask about the progress of a certain job. It bothered him at first, but he quickly realized it was a necessity. Intel has to move fast in this line of work, and instant communication is pivotal in keeping the progress smooth and accelerated. Open-door policy was the first of many obstacles he has been forced to embrace.

This being the case, Wufei should not have jumped in his skin at this interruption. It must have been that deep, smooth voice. He had recognized it at the first syllable.

Wufei takes in the sight of Zechs Merquise filling his doorway. Black eyes are steady and assessing, but his heart is racing at this new development and he has to work hard to keep his face from showing only the mildest suspicion.

“Merquise...” he states easily, dry. Wufei glances at the time and then back at his visitor, wondering what else Zechs may have heard about his working habits and whether the Commander had scolded him about it.

Ignoring the taunt altogether, Wufei stands out of courtesy and invitation. “What are you doing here?”