As he came around the corner, he spotted three Oz guards leaning against the wall just outside one cell, cackling like mad. One of them tried to stand and he tilted wildly, crashing to the floor. An aluminum can fell out of his limp hand and rolled noisily across the floor towards Treize, who halted it under his boot a moment before crushing it completely.

The drunken guards glanced up at him and froze.

"And what, sirs, is the joke?" Treize asked with a deceptively polite smile.

His formal look lulled them into believing that they weren't in trouble, and they relaxed again, slipping back into inebriated giggles. The two still standing leaned against the wall to keep from stumbling while the one on the floor craned his head to look up.

"Oh, nothing," the obvious leader grinned lazily. "Just gave that little brat what he deserved."

"Got him to scream once," one chuckled.

"Oh?" Treize asked. Only the sober aides could see how cruel that smile had become, or hear the threatening tone in his voice. "Really?"

The third guard nodded eagerly. "We must've beat him to a pulp, with all the times he tried to fight back."

The hall was silent, save for the continued laughing. Glancing nervously at each other, the two aides wondered what was going to happen. Both knew it wouldn't be pretty.

"You have heard them confess their crimes?" Treize suddenly questioned the aides behind him. "Of their own will, free and clear of coercion?"

"Yes, sir," they both nodded crisply.

"Then take these...cowards..." he growled, still smiling though his expression had turned immeasurably dark, "and their false courage...and lock them in the brig. Have their commissions revoked. Begin proceedings for the court marshall."

"What?" the first guard snarled. "He's an enemy pilot! He's a murderer, he's killed hundreds of our soldiers, and you want to punish us?"

Treize held absolutely still, but his hands curled into fists at his side and trembled in rage. "My actions do not require explanation. The gundam pilot, however, has acted only with honor and according to just principles. You have not. And I will see you imprisoned for this."

Once the astonished guards were taken from his sight, begging and pleading, Treize turned to the cell door and unlocked it. He heard something rustling inside, and he tensed, expecting an attack as son as he opened the door.

The cell was only dimly lit, but he could still make out the form of someone lying prone on the cold floor. As he stepped forward, the body seemed to move without thinking, drawing itself into a half-formed ball. Treize winced and knelt beside the shivering pilot, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No...get away...kill you!" came the desperate hiss.

Treize immediately recognized the stern voice of the pilot he had briefly fought with. "Wufei, it's me, Treize. I won't hurt you."

The Chinese pilot turned on his side, dragging the heavy restraints on his arms with him. His eyes were shut tight and his breathing shallow, telling Treize that the boy was unconscious. He must have threatened him in his sleep, then. The Oz commander eased his hands under Wufei's body and swept him up into his arms as he stood.

"It's all right, Wufei. You're safe now." Treize stepped out of the cell and carried his prisoner back to his personal quarters, setting him on the single bed. In the stronger light, he could see all of the cuts and bruises his men had inflicted on the Chinese boy. Wufei's hair hung limply, matted with blood and tangled in its holder. His body was covered in lacerations that must have come from struggling on the edges of the metal panels in the floor. The normally white pants were now splattered in blood, and he shuddered to think what wounds lay beneath.

He took out the card key from his pocket and unlocked the shackles around Wufei's arms, lifting the heavy casings off of him. Protected by the strong alloy, his arms seemed to be the only part of his body that had gone uninjured.

"I don't think they broke anything," Treize whispered, talking about more than Wufei's body. "But those cuts need to be cleaned and treated before they get infected." He gently untangled the silky hair from the holder, freeing it from the messy ponytail, then cradled him again as he took him to the small bathroom.

"...stop..."

Treize halted, surprised at the angry whisper. "Wufei, I know you have no reason to, but I'm asking you to trust me. I won't hurt you."

Wufei shifted around in his arms, weakly fighting to escape.

"You wouldn't make it halfway out of here in your state," Treize warned him. "You need to rest."

"Put me down. I...can do this...myself..."

Reluctantly, Treize set Wufei down on his feet. The Chinese pilot glared at him, then silently walked into the bathroom and locked the door. Treize sighed and sat down at the desk against the far wall. How could such a boy make his heart flutter like this?

*****

Am I so weak that my own enemies pity me? Wufei growled to himself, ignoring the shower for a moment. He glanced around the room, looking for a vent or maintenance shaft he could escape through. There was nothing. With a muted snarl at his situation, he gingerly stripped off his bloody clothes and tossed them into the tub as he started the shower. He had to admit, if only to himself, that the heat felt good against his sore muscles and bludgeoned body. Blood ran in rivulets down the drain.

And why Treize? Why would he have any inclination to help me? Does he think I'm helpless? He stepped out and dried himself off with the large towels available before his wounds could begin bleeding again. Then he turned back and rinsed his clothing of his blood and his enemies' filth. Once that was done, he turned the water off and wrung them out.

He noticed a radiator on the lower part of the wall and flipped it on, smiling despite his frustration. The two metal coils turned bright red as they warmed up and rapidly heated the small room. Setting his clothes out so they would dry faster, he leaned against the wall and waited, wondering what Treize was doing. He didn't like the way his thoughts kept returning to the taller Oz commander.

*****

Treize heard the radiator turn on and wondered what Wufei was doing. Probably just drying out his clothing, but then, the boy was a gundam pilot. Who knew what he could think of doing with the wiring the radiator provided? He was a trained terrorist. He would have no compunctions about taking out an enemy vessel.

Treize forced himself to calm down and think rationally. Wufei wouldn't blow up the ship.

He'd want to finish their duel off first, then blow up the ship.

That was probably what he was thinking of right now. Moves to finish off his enemy in a duel to the death. And how to avoid that pesky suicide leap that left one susceptible to a simple parry. Treize smiled when he thought of that, how he'd brought Wufei down to his knees and held his life in his hands. Such a rush of power mingled with concern for such a beautiful creature, to treat him as an enemy while having him vulnerable...

Beautiful creature? Treize suddenly frowned. Where in space had that thought come from? No, Wufei was a fallen enemy who had been treated without honor, and he was trying to rectify that. Right? Nothing more than that. Never mind the way his breath caught when those dark eyes were turned on him. Or the way he'd run his fingers through Wufei's hair, despite how bloody it had been.

The bathroom door suddenly opened and the pilot came out, fully dressed. Treize would have thought Wufei was all right if he hadn't put his hand on the doorframe to steady himself. As it was, Wufei kept his eyes focused on the ground, worried that if he looked up, Treize would see how exhausted and hurt he was.

"Why?" he whispered harshly.

Treize didn't pretend to not understand the question. "I can't stand the way those men acted. Enemies must be treated honorably."

"You would...not do this for any enemy," Wufei argued, furious that his voice wavered.

"No..." Treize whispered. "I think not. And I don't know why I'm doing it now." His mind raced as he struggled for an answer that would satisfy him. It was unusual to have an unknown variable enter the equation, especially for someone who was so used to having everything planned out.

Wufei took another step, but he didn't move far enough that he'd have to take his hand from the door. "I do not trust you."

"You are a trained terrorist," Treize countered. "Are you any more trustworthy to your enemies?"

Wufei shook his head. "That...is not what I meant."

Treize narrowed his eyes in confusion, but then suddenly straightened when he realized what Wufei really meant. The boy was, after all, trapped in his personal quarters, having just been beaten by the guards, and the restraints were still visible on the bed. "I will not hurt you, I promise."

Wufei laughed humorlessly. His word obviously meant very little to him. The Chinese pilot tried to take another step, but that meant leaving the door. As soon as he did, he lost his balance and started to topple forward, unable to get his hands up fast enough. He shut his eyes, not wanting to watch the floor rise to hit him in the face.

Strong arms came under him, holding him up before he could crash to the ground. He looked up in surprise at Treize, who gently brought him back up. How in space did he move so fast?

"It seems you have a fever," Treize whispered, able to feel his heated skin even through his clothing. "You should rest."

Too weak to push him away, Wufei sagged against Treize's body. "Why...you...?" he wondered, before passing out as the shock of his injuries finally wore off.

*****

Wufei's eyes opened slowly, wincing at the dim light. He was on his back, he could tell that much, but there were strange little pressures all over his body, as if something was wrapped around him tightly. Bandages? But then why was he so warm and cold at the same time? He must be in a bed...but...oh yes, Treize had mentioned a fever--

Treize! he sudden remembered, trying to sit up quickly. The rush was too great for his injuries to handle, though, and he had to lay back down, hating that his own body had betrayed him with its weakness.

"Ah, you're awake," a familiar voice said to his left. "Good. I was beginning to worry." A warm hand fell on his forehead. "And it seems that your fever is disappearing. You will probably be able to leave in a few hours."

"You...would let me go...?" Wufei whispered.

Treize nodded once. "I have to...I could not bear to see you hurt any further..."

"I...am not...weak..."

"No, you aren't. You are one of the strongest people I've ever met." Treize lowered his head. "Stronger than I am."

Wufei narrowed his eyes. The drowsiness left his mind, leaving only cold clarity. "Stronger than you?"

"Yes." Treize sighed and leaned back in the chair he had pulled beside the bed. "Go back to sleep, Wufei. When you wake up, I will escort you to your gundam."

"You would do this for me?" Wufei all but gasped. "This goes beyond treating an enemy honorably."

"I...don't want to think of you as...my enemy," Treize admitted, fighting to force the words out. "An enemy of Oz, perhaps...but not of Treize Khushrenada."

Wufei understood exactly what Treize meant. He looked away towards the wall. "It could never work," he whispered. "You are on the opposite side. I could never agree with what you and your organization does."

Treize nodded. "I know. Just as I agree with everything you do. I can find no fault with your actions." He chuckled to himself. Strange...I was not angry with war since I came to space...and now look at what one boy has done to me...

*****

Wufei stared at Khushrenada's spaceship, using Nataku's monitors to zoom in closer and closer to the port where Treize watched. The tall commander stared back at him, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The order to let the gundam pilot go had been hard to get through, even if Treize was the head of the organization, and now the two enemies watched each other from across the void of space.

"Why?" Wufei continued to wonder. "Why let him live? Why leave this ship in one peace, even if he is aboard?" With a low curse, he shook his head. "And what about the duel?" Now angry with himself, he tore off the remaining bandages, then turned Nataku around and took off, vanishing in the distance.

Back onboard, Treize smiled as the gundam sped out of sight. His hand brushed against the hilt of his sword, and he idly pushed it back. "We will finish our duel, Chang Wufei. Someday. But we will have to meet again for that. Perhaps..." He turned and walked back to his quarters. And we must fight in mobile suits, his specialty. I wonder who shall win that fight.

The End