Author: Sami-pi
Pairing: established 1x2x1 and 3x4x3
Rating: PG (for many bad words)
Warnings: none
Timeline: post EW and okay, I'm lazy and I'm setting all 25 (if possible) drabbles into the same timeline/universe/setting. So if you haven't read the previous fics, the line goes like this: Quatre's CEO of WEI, Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Wufei are all Preventers, and they're all around 30ish. the drabbles will not be...interconnected, but you know... ^O^;;;
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing, its characters and its trappings, belong to Bandai, Sotsu, and... I was sure there was someone else in there... sorry! ^^;;; Anyway, this fic is not for profit, just for fun.
12:03
"You're a multi-billionaire and you actually go to the bank to pay your bills?"
Quatre rolled his eyes. Once a month some facetious little bastard, usually Duo, but occasionally Trowa, just had to ask this question, but the answer was really quite simple.
"I'm 'keeping it real'."
Duo laughed at that, but Quatre continued before he had a chance to respond with some smart-alecky comment.
"Anyway, I promise I'll be done by 12:15. That'll leave us plenty of time for lunch, right? Why don't you and Heero go and get us a table at Yamato and I'll meet you guys there. Go ahead and order; you know what I want."
After working out a few extra little details, Duo said 'see you in fifteen' and hung up.
Quatre got the distinct impression that Duo would actually time him, and so off he went, designer trench coat in one hand and Italian leather briefcase in the other.
"...telephone, electricity, gas...will that be all today, Mr. Winner?"
Quatre smiled at the cheerful teller behind the glass. He quite liked the old school personal service at this one particular branch. After staring at computers, talking to his staff via intercom, and teleconferencing with people he'd only ever seen the top half of, it was a tremendous relief to communicate with a real person. There was something refreshing about it.
"Yes, that'll be all..." Quatre peered at the teller's name tag, "Allison. Thank you."
"No prob--"
"EVERYBODY FREEZE!"
Allison's eyes got very wide as she stole a look over Quatre's shoulder.
He knew that look.
"Don't scream. Don't move. Just stay calm," Quatre whispered to her.
Allison nodded discretely.
"This is robbery! We don't want to hurt anyone, but if you try anything funny, we've got guns and we know how to use 'em!"
Quatre sighed. He had always wondered if real bank robbers used those cheesy lines like in the movie. The answer was, apparently, yes.
"Get down on the floor! Everybody lie down on your stomachs and put your hands on your head! C'mon! DO IT!"
This demand was punctuated with two warning shots into the ceiling.
People screamed and dropped as commanded. Only Quatre, and Allison, remained standing.
"YOU! I said, down on the floor! Y'deaf or something? GET DOWN!"
"Don't move," Quatre hissed at Allison. "Trust me."
She was visibly trembling, but Allison held her ground perfectly.
And reflected in the lens of her large, round glasses Quatre had a brilliant view of the lobby behind him.
There were three hooded men, but only two had guns. Quatre could see one of the gunmen walking towards him. It was nice to see people still using revolvers these days, Quatre thought.
"GET, THE FUCK, DOWN!"
The man was clearly an amateur. He had halted five feet behind Quatre and was waving the gun around at arms' length, trying to look intimidating by using it like a laser pointer.
"I'll shoot you, man. I'll do it!"
The man didn't sound so sure of himself now, and Quatre knew without looking that he had underestimated the weight of the ancient gun and, in his mad gesticulations, overreached, compromising his balance.
Quatre grinned.
Allison ducked.
"...interesting use of a two thousand dollar trench, sir."
"Amazing quality, sergeant. Incredibly durable. Those British really do good work," Quatre replied with a genial smile.
"And this is..."
"A thousand dollar briefcase, yes, sergeant," said Quatre, still smiling.
"They make bulletproof briefcases, sir?"
Quatre only smiled some more.
"That are heavy enough to knock a six foot man unconscious?"
Quatre blinked innocently.
"Right, sir. Very creative use of the perp's own belt, sir."
Quatre had to stifle a snicker at the word "perp".
"I just wanted to help, sergeant," he said.
The police officer nodded.
"And help you did, sir. According to the timestamp on the bank monitors, you subdued all three witnesses in under five minutes."
"I believe it was three minutes forty five seconds, sergeant," said Quatre.
The police officer nodded again and took a few more notes.
"Well, thank you very much, sir. You're the hero of the day."
"Hero... Heero! Shit!" Quatre exclaimed. "Duo's going to kill me, I'm so late!"
And the polished, well-mannered businessman who'd just calmly disarmed and disabled three dangerous criminals thus foiling a robbery in progress turned and fled the bank in a panic.
OWARI
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