So here is part three!

very rough this time!  I'm going ahead and posting it, but I may go back and change some small bits and pieces later.  If I do, I'll let you guys know!

~Part Three~

"Son of bitch," Wufei spat, tearing off his apron and throwing it across the dingy little closet that the club called the ‘employee lounge’.

"What’s going on?" Kirsty had just come on shift, another victim of Trey’s decision that the waiters needed to be more ‘fluid’ in their scheduling. He didn’t want to imagine the problems it had caused her over getting a baby sitter.

"He fired me," Wufei sighed, dropping down on the ratty couch and just letting himself absorb that for a moment. "He fucking fired me."

"Since when do you swear like that?" Kirsty tried to tease him, but her eyes were wide open with shock and dismay.

"You don’t hang around Duo and me enough," Wufei gave her a half-hearted attempt at a smile, "that was mild."

"Like you want a sticky three year old hanging off of you guys when you go out," she sniffed, then looked serious. "Wufei - why did he fire you?"

"Some idiot knocked me into a table and I spilled a drink all over a customer."

"...and?"

"And - nothing! That’s it, that’s all that happened!"

She stared at him, "But - but we spill drinks all the time! It’s so crowded in here - it would be weirder if we didn’t spill drinks!"

"I know."

"And half the time they do end up on the customers!"

"I know that, too."

"Wufei," she sat down beside him and tentatively took his hand, "don’t get mad at me, okay? but you never did anything - um, you never, like, dated him and then broke up, or..."

"Kirsty!" Wufei objected, "I’d never date Trey! Yeuch!"

"Did he ask? Maybe that’s why..."

"No. He never asked. He doesn’t even like me, Kirsty - I’m not his type. He likes big, strong men. Y’know, preferably with money."

"Who doesn’t?" Kirsty sighed, looking dreamy.

Wufei laughed, and pulled his hand away. "You’re so shallow," he teased, knowing that Kirsty was anything but, "you remind me of Duo."

"And he got his big strong millionaire, didn’t he?" she teased back.

"He’s not exactly a millionaire," Wufei lectured her, getting up and starting to take the uniforms out of his tiny locker - he’d had to pay for the damn things; he was taking them with him! - "and for that matter, he’s not that much bigger than Duo."

"Don’t ruin my fantasy world," she chided him, waggling a finger, "it’s all that gets me through a shift. Damn, Wufei, this job was no fun before - it’s going to be miserable without you here to heckle."

"Why do I always end up with the friends who live to drive me crazy?" Wufei asked the back of his locker.

"Hey! I don’t live to drive you crazy! Well - I don’t just live to drive you crazy!"

"I know," Wufei finished cramming the last of three pairs of cheap leather pants into the backpack he’d kept in his locker, "it’s just a hobby or something. I better get out of here, Kirsty, before Trey comes barging in and accuses me of stealing these crappy clothes."

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, pouting, "but I’ll see you this weekend, right? We’re still on for the movies?"

"Sure," Wufei nodded, not resisting when she gave him a quick hug, even though he wasn’t a big fan of personal touching. "See you Saturday."

"Bye!" She gave him a little wave and turned to get her own apron on before her shift started and Trey docked her pay for being late.

Wufei eased open the door, looking left and right quickly. At no sign of his former manager, he swung his backpack on to his shoulder and ran down the hall, careful to make as little noise as possible. He might be wearing heavy combat-style boots, but at least there was a cheap excuse for carpet on the floor to muffle his footsteps.

There was no one at all at the back entrance - Mr Ennis had always had a guard there, but Trey had thought it was an unnecessary expense and shifted the man to the club, to be another bouncer.

The employees hadn’t liked it - he was more security for them, leaving a club full of drunken patrons who were usually smart enough to figure out that there would be a back door. It was a lot easier to leave work with a looming giant giving stalkers a death glare than it was to have to make a hesitant half-run, half-walk down a dark alley.

There didn’t seem to be anyone out here, either, he saw with relief. He had half-expected to see the Malicious Pincher from the club lurking about, but the area behind the club and the alleyway beyond looked completely deserted.

There was a big dumpster about halfway down, so Wufei took a good grip on his bag. He didn’t want anyone trying to steal it - he could sell the pants at a used clothing store he knew of for almost as much as he’d paid for them - and if it there was someone besides a thief, the hefty bag would make a halfway decent, make-shift weapon.

No one was hiding on the other side of the dumpster, either, and Wufei heaved a breath of relief, feeling as foolish as he always did when his paranoia got the better of him. He adjusted his backpack and strode out of the alley and on to the crowded sidewalk. The back way out of ‘Gier’ led in a half-circle around the club, and the alley came out about five hundred feet or so from the entrance - just close enough to have to shove one’s way through the outskirts of the people standing around, usually teenagers wondering if they could fake their way in.

Wufei was still keeping an eye out for the Pincher, and wasn’t prepared in the slightest when he ran into his Eye Candy, instead.

Literally - he turned a corner and nearly bashed his nose against the tallest man’s hard chest.

"Whoa!" the man laughed, barely touching his shoulder until he was sure Wufei had his balance, "are you all right?"

"You keep asking me that," Wufei groaned, then blushed when he realized how rude that sounded.

"I keep needing to," the man smiled. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I’m fine," Wufei stepped back, and was relieved when the man let him go. "Was there - is there something I can help you with?"

"I spoke to your manager," the man said, "I told him it wasn’t your fault; that someone had shoved you."

‘He knew that,’ Wufei wanted to snark, ‘he was standing right there!’ "Um, thanks, but I don’t think it’s going to make much of a difference."

"He said he’d call you," the man told him, frowning a little, "I hope he does - I’d hate to think we might have cost you your job."

"You didn’t do anything!" Wufei protested, "and I was kind of planning on quitting, anyway. It’s - um, not the best place to work."

"I could see that. Have you complained?"

"Daily," Wufei couldn’t help but grin, "but I’m not sure you mean pouting around my friends. Did you mean - something official?"

"Yes, rather," the man had his smile back after the weak joke, "did you ever complain to the manager? Or the owner?"

"Some of us tried to complain to the manager once," Wufei shrugged, "the owner’s never there anymore. Before his son took over, the bouncers would toss anyone out who bothered us."

"But not now?"

"‘Don’t want to offend paying customers’," Wufei quoted, "that’s what he said."

"That’s a bit illegal, you know?"

"Eh, the cops probably wouldn’t bother with us," Wufei shrugged again, "look - I’ve got to get home, okay? It was - er, nice meeting you?"

"Yes, it was very nice meeting you, as well," the man looked like he wanted to take Wufei’s hand - Wufei could almost imagine him kissing it, like an old-fashioned romance story. "I don’t suppose you would let me give you a ride home? My partner should have the car by now. I mean no offense, but you seem rather young to working in a club, not to mention out on the streets at night by yourself."

Wufei gave him an odd look, "Um...," he finally sighed, "I may look young, but I’m not. I’m not stupid, either. You guys seem really nice, but I’d be an idiot to get in a car with you."

The man gave him a half-smile. "I don’t know if I should be pleased or disappointed," he said. "I suppose I’ll go with being glad that you have such a fine sense of self-preservation. Do let me give you this, though." He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a business card, printed on fine vellum. "You’re a good waiter," he said, not handing it over yet, "very good, especially under such adverse conditions. I know that a friend of mine is hiring; if you give him this card with your resume, he’ll call me and I can explain why you were fired. I’ll put the information and address of the club on the back for you." He wrote on the card with a sleek black pen, then handed the slim bit of paper to Wufei.

Who took it, though he heaved a mental sigh. No use telling the man that there would still be the other job he was fired from to explain. "Thanks," he said instead, slipping the card into a pocket on his backpack. "I appreciate it. I need to go now, though."

"Yes," the man nodded, "I hope you’re not taking a bus or the subway this late, though?"

"Uh - you don’t need to worry about me," Wufei said, edging around him. He wasn’t going to say yes or no - he also knew better than to give a stranger hints about where he lived. "I’ll be fine - I always go home around this time."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Wufei nodded enthusiastically, still backing away. "Um, it was nice meeting you - goodbye!" and then he was nearly running down the street.

*

"I think I frightened him," Treize said ruefully, getting into the car when Zechs pulled it up beside him.

"How?" Zechs frowned, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I was an idiot and offered him a ride home. I believe I’ve given him the impression that I am some sort of rapist, or murderer."

Zechs laughed. "I doubt if he thinks that, love. Do tell me though, which way he went. We can at least keep an eye on him until he gets on a bus, since he doesn’t know the car."

"Thank goodness for tinted windows," Treize agreed, "he went down Colliver Street."

"Good." Zechs guided the big, sleek car around a curve, and it wasn’t long before they saw a newly-familiar small figure, walking rapidly east.

"He’s passed by the bus shelter."

"Perhaps the subway, then? I shudder to think of what’s down there at this hour, though."

"He did say he was used to going home around this time."

"He seems dreadfully young to be on his own like this," Zechs mused.

"I know. I - might have mentioned that, too."

"Treize!" Zechs laughed, "were you going out of your way to offend him? Young people hate being called young!"

"I should know that from experience," Treize smirked a little, "seeing as you’re only three or four years older than he is, Milliardo."

"Yes, I know - you’re such a cradle robber!" That was an old joke, often spoken among Treize’s friends.

"Have I stolen your heart then, beloved?" Treize reached out and stroked a lock of long blond hair behind Milliardo’s ear.

"Of course not," Zechs was used to his lover’s flowery manner of speaking - he’d grown quite fond it, to tell the truth. "There was no stealing involved - I gave it to you, and freely."

"My greatest treasure," Treize rumbled, a distinct growl in his voice.

"And you want to add another," Zechs happily reminded him, "that sweet little one who just went down Hamilton Street?"

"Hamilton Street?!" Treize looked dismayed, "that’s practically a slum!"

"Perhaps his family doesn’t make much money," Zechs had slowed the car as they approached the turnoff to the street, and stopped it completely when they saw their target going up the steps of an old, crumbling-brick apartment building. It was a good thing - their expensive automobile would have stood out boldly on that street; almost guaranteed to attract the boy’s attention.

"Well," Zechs spoke tentatively, after a moment of silence, "at least we know where he lives."

"Unless he’s visiting someone?"

"At this time of night? I doubt it."

"I hope you’re right - I suppose it could be a worse place to live, and it’s better than having him still wandering the streets."

"I know," Zechs grinned, shifting the car back into gear and gliding along the road toward their own home, "I could see you just aching to jump out, grab him, wrap him in cotton-wool and carry him home."

"No," Treize gave him a serious look, "I promised, remember? No taking him home until we know him better."

"What a time for that good promise to backfire on me," Zechs sighed, "I want to wrap him in cotton-wool, too."

*

"You’re home awfully early," were the first words out of Duo’s mouth.

"Got fired," Wufei didn’t sugar coat the news. He tossed his backpack in the direction of the bedroom and started skinning himself out of his tight leather pants.

"Fired?!" Duo stared at him, "How come?"

"Spilled a drink on a customer and Trey, that rat bastard, tossed me out on my ear."

"For one drink?"

"Yeah. There’s probably something else behind it, but damned if I know what it is. Still, though - look what I have." He took the wad of bills gathered as tips out and let them flutter down on to the table.

"Whoa, ‘Fei-chan, who’d you rob?!" Duo gathered them up avidly and began to count them.

"Good tip night," Wufei grinned, folding his pants and then ruining the effect by tossing them after his backpack. He put on a pair of shorts from the pile of clean, unfolded laundry that was usually lurking in their recliner and sat down beside his roommate. "Figures; I finally have a night worth working at the joint, and what happens? I get fired. I think I was born under a curse, or something."

"Two hundred and thirty seven dollars," Duo finished counting and stacked the bills neatly. "Not much of a curse, ‘Fei. That’ll at least pay most of the rent."

"Not the utilities, though. Did Howard say anything to you yet?"

"No. But his sis stopped by again. I was under a car, though, so I couldn’t eavesdrop. He was really quiet after she left."

"Why does all this have to happen at once?" Wufei sighed, leaning on his elbows with his chin in his hands. "Just when it seemed like we were doing good."

"I guess that’s the way the world goes," Duo echoed his sigh, then brightened, "but Heero called me today!"

"So you’ve forgiven him?"

"Not exactly - but he did do some groveling. Well, as much as Heero can grovel. Y’know how he is; he only said he should have discussed it with me, not that he was sorry he went. He invited me to come see him and offered to pay for the plane ticket."

"Are you going?"

"Maybe - if Howard fires me. Or I guess he’d say ‘lets me go’. He’d never tell me he was firing me. If I go, that’ll be less expenses for awhile. I eat a lot and use more electricity than you do."

"And you pay for that all yourself," Wufei wasn’t going to let Duo pretend that he was any sort of a burden. "I think it might be good for you to go, though - it’ll take your mind off of Howard. If he lets you go."

"Are you going to try for another job?" Duo changed the subject deftly, not wanting to dwell on what seemed like a betrayal by the man he’d accepted as a father-figure.

"Maybe - I got this from a customer," Wufei went and fetched the expensive-looking business card. "He said he knew someone who was hiring and he would put in a good word for me." Wufei flipped the card over to read the written instructions.

And stared.

"‘Fei? What’s wrong?!" Duo got up and hurried to him, worried about the fact that Wufei’s pretty face had turned white.

"This - this is for a job at ‘Skipper Blue,’" Wufei managed, still staring at the card. "There’s an opening for a waiter at ‘Skipper Blue’ - and I’ve been recommended by a man who says he’s friends with the owner!"

"Holy - is he telling the truth?!" Duo demanded. Working at one of the high-class clubs was a dream of Wufei’s - Duo had known that for months, ever since they’d walked past ‘Night Owls’ and seen the expensively-dressed, well-behaved people who were waiting in line. The clubs, while far from boring, had a reputation for not accepting any kind of crude behavior - and they’d heard that the tips were unbelievable.

Of course, it was all rumor as far as either of them knew - they’d never be able to afford to go to a place like that as customers.

Unless, Duo thought suddenly, he could talk Heero into taking them sometime. Just to case the joint; see if reality lived up to rumor. Heero could even fly back for a weekend for that - he’d told Duo he had the weekends free.

"I hope he’s telling the truth - oh, who am I kidding? They’d never hire me."

"Why not?! If he tells his friend why you got fired from ‘Gier,’ then..."

"That’s not going to help when they see that I got fired from ‘Magic Nights’, too," Wufei sighed, putting the card down gently, like he thought it would break if he just dropped it on the table. "My resume sucks - you know that."

"Maybe they’ll ask you first," Duo offered lamely, knowing that no other potential employer had asked. They’d just seen that ‘cannot follow orders’ and ‘insubordinate attitude’ and backed away.

Idiots.

"They won’t," Wufei echoed his thoughts, "but I’m not going to worry about it tonight. There’s always McDonalds, you know, and I can get some better resumes in a few years. Then I can change up to something better, maybe."

"Yeah. In just a few years, we can change up to something better, ‘cause you know I’m about to be right there with you. Maybe we ought to find some daytime job and go to night school. Long enough to get our GEDs, at least."

"If we can get on a steady schedule, yeah!" Wufei agreed quickly. He’d always wanted to go back to school - he loved to learn.

"Don’t look so excited, bookworm," Duo teased him, "it’ll be a month or two before we can do that!"

"Yeah, I know," Wufei didn’t loss the slightest bit of his dreamy expression.

Duo snickered, and poked him. "Maybe instead of finding you a boyfriend, I ought to try and get you to go out with a book."

"You’d have better luck," Wufei shot back.

"Aw, c’mon, ‘Fei - haven’t you seen anybody you’d wanna live in sin with?"

Wufei opened his mouth to deny it, remembered the two men from the club, and closed his mouth, blushing hotly.

"Ah ha!" Duo crowed with delight, "you have seen somebody! You’ve been holding out on me! C’mon, Wu, spill!"

"It’s nothing!" Wufei protested, "Just - just some customers tonight, who were pretty, that’s all!"

"How pretty? I want details!"

"My kind of pretty - tall and blond and older. You might have liked the younger one, though - he had long hair, almost to his waist. It was so smooth and pale..."

"Ah ha!" Duo shouted again, "I always knew you had a hair fetish! No wonder you like to brush mine!"

"Oh, stuff it!" Wufei glared at him and started to get up.

"Nu uh, bud!" Duo grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, too excited to notice the wince when Wufei’s backside thumped against the wooden chair, "You’re not getting away that easy! What did the other one look like?"

"He had light brown hair - or that’s what it looked like. It’s kind of hard to tell with the club lights," Wufei went back to his descriptions without any protest. Duo would never leave him alone until he told, anyway. "Both of them had blue eyes, though."

"I like blue eyes," Duo heaved a happy little sigh.

"How lucky for Heero," Wufei teased him, "anyway, like I said, they were tall. And built. The older guy was broader than the younger one, but neither of them looked like they had an ounce of fat on them. All muscle."

"How very lickable," Duo said, violet eyes wicked. "Exactly how much older are we talking about, oh you geriatric-lover, you?"

"Duo! Nothing like you’re trying to hint at - I would guess the younger one was only a couple years older than us, and the older one was maybe a few years older than him. Neither one was exactly ready for the nursing home. I didn’t even see a sign of a walker."

"Sarcasm, thy name is Wufei," Duo laughed, "and may I just say, wow? That’s a shock, when your last boyfriend was old enough to be your grandfather."

"He was not!" Wufei protested, "and anyway, we were never exactly boyfriends. He called me ‘little sweetie’ one too many times for that."

"I wondered why you dumped him," Duo snickered, "I’m just surprised you didn’t threaten to cut his balls off."

"I wouldn’t go that far," Wufei sniffed haughtily, "but I may have hinted something about a knife and his tongue."

*

"I’m going to call Marcus," Treize said as they went into the house, giving Jennings a nod as he handed over his coat.

"Whatever for?" Zechs asked, looking at him in surprise.

"I - may have given our waiter a card with his information on it," Treize smiled sheepishly.

"Treize," Zechs frowned, "you’re not going to try and shower him with gifts like you did Randall?"

"Well, no," Treize shook his head quickly, "I promise, I won’t do that. But he didn’t deserve to lose his job and Marcus is looking for some good help..."

"All right," Zechs sighed, "stop looking so guilty. You can tell Marcus, but you’d best let him make up his own mind. If we get to talk to our boy again, and if something more grows between us, he seemed to me the type to be resentful of any handouts - pretty much the opposite of Randall."

"You can say that after seeing him twice, for a few minutes at a time?" Treize teased him, knowing that Milliardo had an instinct for peoples’ characters - and he was rarely wrong.

Just another reason why he should have listened to his lover about Randall.

"Yes - I think so. He has an entirely different look in his eyes than Randall does. There’s a lot of fire there, not spineless greed. If he gets the job with Marcus, and then finds out that you specifically asked Marcus to give it to him, I don’t think that he would be happy."

"Well, I certainly don’t want that to happen," Treize patted Milliardo’s shoulder. "I’ll be very circumspect. I’ll just tell Marcus that he was a very good waiter, and I’ll explain exactly why he was fired."

"Marcus may think there’s more to it than what we saw."

"He could be right, but I somehow can’t see it being that little boy’s fault, whatever it is. Anyway, that manager was scolding and glaring at all the wait-persons. None of them looked the slightest bit happy. They couldn’t all be causing him trouble."

"Well, we did visit the place because we heard it was under new management," Zechs reminded him, "It could be that the man just doesn’t know what he’s doing, or that he’s changing too many things too quickly for them. You know how our own employees got when we first hired Une and she made all those changes."

"Yes - I’ve heard that the club’s owner isn’t well. If he’s not there to smooth the ruffled feathers - or put a stop to the changes if they’re the wrong sort, then that club’s popularity may be taking a plummet soon."

"Have you thought of starting another club?" Zechs surprised him with the question. "I know ours is just a hobby, but Une was talking only the other day of how a well-run club - one with rock music and entertainment for a different sort of crowd than what we get - could make good money in this city. She says there isn’t really one that customers can feel safe at."

"Well, they certainly wouldn’t at ‘Gier’," Treize agreed, "I suppose it’s something to think about. Shall we go upstairs? I’ll call Marcus from the study."

"Mmm," Zechs hummed his agreement and followed his lover toward the steps, "all right. I want to look over those plans the architect left for the new greenhouse."

They went up the steps together, and neither of them looked back.

If they had, they might have been puzzled by the look of worry on Jennings’ face... but they never saw it.