Disclaimers: We do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.
Notes: Wufei wakes up with a hangover and Quatre rescues Heero.
Hazy, warm and comfortable. That was all that he was aware of. He shifted his position in bed and smiled as his dreams went
from one subject to another. The dull ache in his head was almost nonexistent, and he would gladly have stayed in bed for the
rest of his life.
Then a horrible sound cut through his euphoria and stabbed at him behind his eyes and he was abruptly reminded that he should
not drink. He swore loudly as the steady beeping sound seemingly poured lemon juice on the pain and intensified it multiple
There was a soft chuckle beneath him. “If I knew you’d be this pissed off when you woke up, I wouldn’t have taken you to
bed with me last night.” There was a snort and the horrendous noise ceased. “It’s just my alarm clock, Wufei. I do work for
a living and sometimes I actually even have to wake up in the mornings.”
That’s when he realized where he was and who he was with. He opened his eyes and felt his breath catch in his throat when he
saw the woman before him. “S-Sally . . .” He groaned as his head reminded him that he had consumed too much alcohol last
night. Slowly, other things filtered into his consciousness, like the warmth and pressure around a certain part of his anatomy.
Suddenly, he threw himself backwards, only to come into contact with another soft body behind him.
“Hmm, temperamental in the morning, isn’t he?” A lock of long, blonde hair was brought over him with a manicured hand and
teased one of his nipples. “I don’t think he’ll be any more fun. It’s kind of depressing to think that the three of us only got
together because of alcohol. He has talents . . .” There was a soft, happy sigh from a very familiar voice. “It’s good to know
the alcohol didn’t inhibit him in any way.”
Sally chuckled and slid out of bed, causing Wufei to groan as his half-hard length slipped from her hot depths. “Stop teasing
him, Dorothy,” the tall blonde said, shrugging on a robe. “Well, you have a choice, Wufei, out of three remedies for the
hangover I’m sure you must have. You drank a lot of alcohol last night and not a lot of water before you fell asleep.”
Wufei groaned at the throbbing in his head. He’d be willing to try anything to make the headache go away. “What are my
choices?” He sighed as Dorothy’s slender fingers rubbed his temples as if to soothe the pressure.
Sally’s voice was calm as the mattress next to him dipped under the weight of her body. “Well, there’s the standard two
maximum-strength aspirin which will take a while to start working. I can also make a hangover tea using a recipe that my
mother taught me . . . it works fairly quickly.”
Wufei peered up at her, and felt a little unease at the bemused expression on her face. “What’s the third remedy?”
Sally smirked at him. “You could have another round with Dorothy and I. It is said that sexual acts release pain killing
endorphins. It’ll work quicker than the other two remedies I’ve listed . . . and hell, Dorothy and I would enjoy it immensely, I’
Dorothy cooed softly as she ran her tongue in the shell of Wufei’s ear. “Hmm, I like the sound of choice number three,
myself. You get to have fun while making your pain go away. What could be better than that?”
Wufei considered his options for about a second. After all, who was he to pass up an opportunity like this. “Hand over the
aspirin and get back into bed. I’ll take my chances with one and three.”
Dorothy chuckled softly. “Two at once . . . what a surprise.” Her quiet snickers were silenced as Wufei pressed his mouth to
Quatre shook off his shock and stepped forward, his weapon clutched in a trembling hand. “What are you doing?” He asked,
appalled at the sight of Heero’s limp body lying on the operating table before him.
Doctor J looked up and grinned at Quatre. “Isn’t it obvious?” He replied with a twisted smile curling his lips. “The war has
ended, and with it . . . Heero’s usefulness. He is no longer necessary, so I am terminating him.”
Quatre gaped at the insane scientist, not believing that this was truly happening. “WHAT? WHY?”
J snorted, clearly becoming bored with Quatre’s presence. “The boy has always been expendable . . . my research however,
now . . . that has to be preserved.” He gazed at the chip that he held with a pair of forceps. “Beautiful, isn’t it? It turned a
sniveling little child into the perfect soldier. It ignored pain and fear. It enhanced his strength since it told his muscles that they
COULD do it. What would have killed him, didn’t because death simply was not an option.”
Quatre started to feel sick to his stomach. “How could you do such a thing to a child?”
J shrugged carelessly. “The other four scientists and I had a bet on what the perfect pilot would need to accomplish his tasks.
H, now . . . he guessed that the pilot would need to empathize with the enemy, so he chose you. G said that he’d know the
perfect pilot when he saw him, and the little L-2 whore was chosen.” He sighed, setting the chip and forceps aside with care.
“Well, the war is over now. And I can’t have you going around and telling everyone what happened here. The public eye will
only see me as a murderer.”
“You bastard.” Quatre muttered, his hands beginning to shake as he stared at this cruel man.
Doctor J merely chuckled. “There’s no point in you trying to save him, boy. This whelp is useless now, not worth your time .
. . a pathetic waste. On the other hand, I can’t really leave any witnesses behind. Who knows what kind of things you could
spill to the authorities.”
J suddenly reached underneath the table he had set his equipment down on, pulling something out. It took Quatre a moment to
realize what was happening, a moment too long. Quatre raised his handgun to defend himself, firing just as pain slashed
through his left arm, the force of the bullet that tore through his flesh knocking him back a bit.
He smiled though, when he looked at Doctor J, seeing that his own aim had been true. J gaped at him, his mouth opening and
closing for several seconds before he collapsed to the ground, his gun clattering to the floor. Quatre ran over, kicking the
weapon away from J’s body, dropping to one knee as he pressed his fingers to the old man’s throat. No pulse. Doctor J was
dead. Quatre couldn’t say he was sorry about that. The bastard deserved it.
Now that J had been dealt with, Quatre holstered his weapon. He clutched his hand over the bleeding wound in his arm, rising
to his feet and stepping over to the table where Heero lay. He reached out, yet stilled his hands, not truly knowing what to do
here. Heero was injured, had been operated on. This was beyond his amount of first-aid knowledge. He needed to contact
someone with just a touch more knowledge in these matters. So he pulled out his cell phone and called the first and only person
he could think of, Sally Po.
Quatre followed Sally’s instructions to the letter, and soon enough he had the wounds bandaged. There was little else he could
do. He and Sally arranged a place to meet and Quatre left as quickly as he could manage, getting Heero into the car. He didn’t
think he could take Heero to a hospital, nor could he take himself to one. The reporters would have a field day if they found out
he had been shot.
It didn’t take long for Quatre to reach the motel he had arranged to meet Sally at. The manager gave him odd looks as he rented
a room, but said nothing about the blood on his sleeve. The place wasn’t a grand hotel, this probably wasn’t the first time that
the man had seen a gunshot wound. Giving the man a hefty tip, assured Quatre that he’d have privacy, both from any and all
housekeeping services and the police.
With only a minor amount of difficulty and a lot of pain from his throbbing arm, Quatre managed to get Heero into their motel
room. “It’ll be all right, Heero,” he said, as he practically dragged Heero into the dingy room. “Sally will be able to help. You’ll
be . . . well, I can’t say you’ll be as good as new, but you’ll be better off without those contraptions in your head in the long
The first thing he did was to settle Heero into bed, trying to make sure that he was as comfortable as possible. Once he was
satisfied, he sat beside Heero and waited, having nothing else to do with his time. Heero looked so young sleeping the way he
was. Quatre felt nothing but worry for his friend. He hoped it wouldn’t take Sally too long to get here. Sure, the bleeding had
stopped, but who knew what kind of damage J had caused.
To Be Continued . . .