Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Good Day ❯ A Good Day ( One-Shot )

A Good Day

(or, Why Celebrating the End of Wars are as Dangerous as Fighting in Them)

 

Thanatos_Aire

 

12, August, 2002

 

… I had fun with this piece of crap. There's a fair amount of alcohol-induced OOC, implied Tro+Unn, some Duo+Heero implied lime, slight profanity, and some strange random introspections. Love to Mel and Christy, who unknowingly supplied the subtitle.

 

And no, I wasn't drunk when I wrote this… I was high on meds. ^^

 

(I don't own, claim to own, or make profit off any copyrighted elements.)

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Drunkenly, I slur out, “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer!” I don't even think I remember how this song goes, but it seems like a good idea to sing it now, sooo…

 

Someone behind me sighs and mutters something about AA meetings. I ignore it, take another gulp, and continue, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!”

 

There's another voice, softer so I can't hear the words, but then it's the other voice again, hissing back. “Damned drunk needs to,” Uh oh, Wufei's pissed about something again. Oh well.

 

“Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-eight bottles of beer!” Another swig and I empty my current can, then toss it over my shoulder and pop open a new one. “Take one down and pass it around, ninety-seven bottles of beer on the wall!”

 

There's someone chuckling in the back corner of the rented cabin and Wufei's getting angrier and louder, but I don't care. I've got myself a nice, comfy chair and lots of beer; I'm happier than I've ever been right now. Then again, I'm drunker than a skunk…

 

“Injustice to be so dishonourable,”

 

“Ya take one down and ya pass it around: ninety-six bottles of beer on the wall!”

 

Someone, I think it was Zechs or Milliardo or whatever, but I can't remember. Anyway, someone had lit a fire in the fireplace thingy and the flames keep licking up and crackling in front of me. It's funny really, how they sneak up and suddenly pop. Just, slink, boom, and that's it. Yeah.

 

“Ninety-six bottles of beer on the wall…” Oh look, the TV's on. I know the girl on it, what's her name… I can't remember so I finish off my can of beer. That chick right there on the television… Damn, I don't even remember my own name. Oh yeah. She's Unn.

 

“Ninety-five bottles of beer of the wall! Ninety-five bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-five bottles of beer…” Wait. Why is Unn sitting on top of the TV set with a wine glass in her hand?

 

“Cheers!” she calls out with an I'm-gonna-need-an-aspirin-overdose-in-the-morning grin on her face. Trowa catches her before she falls off but she doesn't seem to notice and only giggles manically as she tries to dance with him.

 

“Ninety-four bottles of beer! Take one down `n' ya pass it `round, ninety-three bottles of beer of the wall!” Heh. `Lena and I danced better than she can, `specially since Tro doesn't really look too thrilled to be swung about like that.

 

“Oh for the love of…” Wufei comments and there's this squeal that hurts my ears. “Bring her here, Barton, and I'll take the blasted woman up to bed.”

 

“And ya gotta pass it all `round `cause there's ninety-two bottles of beer on the wall…”

 

Trowa and Wufei leave with Unn hanging between them, still giggling and stuttering over an observation on Wufei's hair being tied too tight. “Just because we're celebrating the end of a war doesn't mean…” he grumbles, but no one ever pays attention to poor Wufei.

 

“Nine-dee-two bottles of beer on the wall, nine-dee-two bottles o' beer!” The television was talking again about Christmas or something. I guess it's Christmas `cause they got a big-ass tree with some candles on it and I think it's right around the right time for Christmas.

 

“Nine-dee-unn bottles o' beer on da wall, nine-dee-unn bottles o' beer.” I wonder if I remembered to buy gifts. “Take unn `own and ya pass it a'ound…” Another can fizzes as I pop it open. I love that sound. That clink, cha-link, foooo-wop, fshhh noise. It's great.

 

“'Ine-dee bottles of beer on da wall, `ine-dee bottles o' beer…!” Damn, it's getting hard to count backwards now… Better drink some more.

 

There's more chuckling going on in the back and I look up to see why `cause the noise is really starting to grate on, but my eyes stop at the doorway to the den. I grin smashedly.

 

“Eighty-`ine bottles o' beer on yer wall, eighty-`ine bottles o' beer! Take one down…” Those messy brown bangs covering up those big blue eyes. He's just standing there, completely sober like usual and watching us.

 

“Take one down and you pass it around, eighty-seven bottles of beer on the wall!” Wait just `er minute… If he ain't drunk, then why's he wearing pajamas? I never saw him wear pajamas b'fore, but he's standing right there in a tee-shirt and flannel sleeping pants.

 

“Eighty-six bottles of beer on the wall, eighty-six bottles of beer…” He notices me grinning hugely at him, and steps up as I down the last of yet another can. I offer him one as I tug out another from my case, but he shakes his head `cause he never drinks alcohol even if it's the only thing left in the safe-house which is totally not fair `cause I think I'd like to see him drunk, but anyway, he perches on the armrest of my chair.

 

“Pass it around, eighty-five bottles of beer on the wall.” I love this chair. It's so nice and comfy… Soft so it doesn't hurt your butt but hard enough that you don't fall in and get lost in the cushion. “Eighty-five bottles of beer on the wall…”

 

He gives me a wistful little smile but I'm used to it so I just chug down some more beer. It's really good beer too, from Germany. And it's cold. I like the bubbles as they foam in my throat.

 

“Eighty-four bottles of beer, take unn down `n' pass it `round, eigh'y-thee bottles o' beer.” Yay, he's got an arm around me. I have no idea what he's saying to me since all I can hear is that damned fire roaring, but he's touching me.

 

Maybe I should have gotten drunk a long time ago.

 

Oh wait. I did. Hah. After the last war, a year ago. That's when we broke up and he left to go stay with what's-her-face… but we got back together again a few months ago so it's okay.

 

“Eigh'y-thee bot'les o' beer on der wall, eigh'y-thee bot'les o' beer!” Oh look, Wufei is back, but no Trowa? Hmm…

 

“Eigh'y-oo bot'les o' beer on da wall! Eigh'y-oo bot'les o' beer on der wall,” He's kissing me?

 

“Eigh'y-oo bot'les o' beer.”

 

“Shut up already,” he says with a smile and reaches around my drink to grab onto the front of my jeans. Heh. What comes after eighty-two? Oh, right…

 

“Eigh'y-unn bot'les o' beer on da wall--” And, black…

 

A white ceiling, a bed underneath I think. The sheets are soft, so is his skin. Mine is naked. And there's an unravelling braid tangled about. This seems so familiar…

 

“Love ya, Duo.”

 

“I love you too, Heero.”

 

More black. Some movement, but I really can't be bothered to open my eyes to see if I can see. This whole unconscious thing is actually really nice.

 

The black finally clears away to a really ugly white ceiling. I roll over, wincing at the screaming in my head, but there's no one in bed with me. Then again, a better question would be why am I naked?

 

“Hey,”

 

“Want some aspirin already?” comes his teasing voice from the other direction. It hurts to move, but I gotta see him. Plus, he just totally promised me meds.

 

So I roll over again and look up at him. There's that little smile on his face, just a little quirked up side, but it's beautiful. “You're dressed already?” I manage.

 

He nods. “Tro and I have one last thing to finish up before the war's officially over.” I get some pills slipped into my hand and he kisses my forehead. “Wufei's making sure Midii doesn't hack up a lung in the bathroom down the hall, so I'd suggest you use the one right across the hallway, alright?”

 

He kisses me again, this time on the lips. “I'll be back in a few hours. No more drinking.”

 

I nod and manage to swallow my aspirin. “Do you remember what I got to last night?”

 

He smiles and stands up straight. “Well, you kind of gave up right after I wrestled your clothes away from you… I think it was seventy-seven. But no more drinking today, you hear me? You're gonna get sick from all that alcohol.”

 

I nod again, disappointed. Only seventy-seven, and I was so damn wasted that I couldn't remember the best part of the night? He pats my head and straightens his uniform.

 

“Most importantly before I go,” My eyes don't want to focus on his as he leans in, “Remember that I love you, Heero.”

 

I manage a grin somewhere as big as it was last night and say, “Love you too, Duo.”

 

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owari