Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ When Life Hands You Lemons and Death Breaks the Juicer ❯ One-Shot

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: I own neither characters from Gundam Wing nor from any video game mentioned herein: I intend to make no money from either.
Also, I'm not even going to try throwing any Japanese into this fic, I'd probably say something insulting by mistake, so deal with the English.

Warnings:
Um... Duo injury and the injury of harmless and defenseless fruit, Heero weirdness... Oh, and there's a lemon in this... somewhere, but it's not what you think... Heh-heh...

~*~*~*~ journal entry
*##**##* flashback
!^~!~^! scene change without change in timeline

Citrus Sours: 1
When Life Hands You Lemons, and Death Breaks the Juicer

~*~*~*~

Journal:
Another quiet day, or as quiet as things get around here. No missions. Nothing to do really, aside from people-watching. It's not that hard to do when everyone trusts you, and, aside from Duo, no one around the safe house really knows how to have any fun. But, even I'll admit this, Duo can push it a little too far, sometimes. I've also realized that there are some times when one should not enter a room. Take this morning for example...

~*~*~*~

The braided whirlwind that called itself Death ran into the room, slamming and locking the door behind him. "Hide me! Hide me! HIDE ME!!" Seeking out the nearest still object, Duo clutched onto Heero's chair, trembling.

Shoving the boy back with one hand, the other returned to his computer. "Shut up." Heero clacked away at the keys of his laptop and Yoshi jumped up, saving Baby Mario. He'd found an old version of Yoshi's Island and put it onto his laptop a few weeks earlier, after making a few minor adjustments. The wing pilot would never want anyone to find out, but a vast majority of his free time was spent playing mindless video games. It kept him looking busy, and when one looked busy, one wasn't disturbed... at least, that had been the original plan. After a while, though, fending off evil cloud-riding Lakitus and seed-spitting monkeys was like a side mission; an entertaining, but still notably challenging, side mission. One that he would do anything to complete. "What did you do and what do you want?"

"I-uh-I..." Duo glanced around the room, as if even mentioning what had happened would send some unknown demon after him, before hurriedly beginning his tale. "Well, Trowa and I were sitting around in the living room last night, with nothing to do, and I just bought these big bags of Pixi-stix yesterday morning, so...

*##*##*

Caffeine is never good at two a.m. "Betcha can't eat six at once."

The other pilot smirked, a twinkle evident in his visible emerald eye. Seizing six of the sugar filled straws from the bag, the HeavyArms pilot opened them, pouring them all into his mouth at once. A smug grin spread across his face as he finished swallowing. "A bet's a bet."

Duo cringed; he and Trowa had made a bet a few minutes earlier, and for every pixi-stix(stick?) Trowa ate, Duo had to eat two. "Well, fine then. I'll see your six, and raise you another twelve." Picking up the bag, he realized there were no more than twenty in it, anyway. "In fact, I'll finish the whole bag." So saying, he opened each stix(again, stick?), dumped them into his Diet Pepsi, and, after swirling the mixture around, sculled the entire glass. Letting out a very fake, but still disgusting, belch, he set glass back down, throwing a fresh bag of Pixi-stix at Trowa. "Like you said, Bang-Boy, 'a bet's a bet'..."
*##*##*

~*~*~*~

... I eventually did find all of the wrappers in the freezer, but that's off topic: to continue...

~*~*~*~

"... and after I ate another thi-"

Heero's hand snatched out, snapping Duo's braid to quiet him. "What does any of this have to do with you needing to hide?"

"Let go!" Snatching back his braid, Duo blew a raspberry at the other pilot. "I'm getting to that part! Jeez, hold your horses, Captain Spandex..."

~*~*~*~

A high-pitched giggle flitted its way from between the boy's lips as he turned the knobs. The little chartreuse machine whirred and spun, squeaking loudly. Indigo eyes blinked sleepily as yet another packet of dyed sugar was added to the swirling cacophony of colors inside the jerry-rigged blender. Every few moments, the boy could be heard muttering. "A bet's a bet. A bet's a bet. A bet's a..."

~*~*~*~

"You used Wufei's juicer to do what?!?! Wh-" A hand came clapping down over his mouth.

"Shhhhhhh! I'm not finished, and keep it down."

~*~*~*~

"Duo?! Unplug it! The duct tape can't hold anymore!" As if agreeing with Trowa's sentiments, the Green Blender o' Stix, so named by a one D. Maxwell, was swaying back and forth precariously, despite the fact that it was duct taped to the counter. Fearing the eminent catastrophe that would soon be upon them, the HeavyArms pilot was slowly making his way towards the door of the kitchen. "Duo, it's almost five. Wufei is going to be awake any minute." By now, the only part of the uni-banged pilot left in the kitchen was just that, along with his head. This proved to be a wise decision...

~*~*~*~

"and then... Sploosh!!" The braided boy threw his hands into the air to demonstrate the explosion.

Heero gave a disinterested look at Duo before returning to his game. "Sploosh?"

He nodded emphatically. "And by that time, Trowa had bailed on me, so I had to hide in the air ducts for the next two hours until Wu-man gave up looking for me in the house, and as soon as he was gone I came straight here, and you're not paying any attention to me are you?"

In classic Yuy fashion, Duo got a prompt, if distant answer. "Hn."

"Come on, Heero, you have to help me!" Now resuming his former state of panic, the Deathscythe pilot lunged at the other boy, grabbing his shirt and shaking. "Please, Heero, I've already sort of fixed it, I just need you to help with reprogramming the settings!"

"Duo, if you don't let go of me, !-" A shrill beep cut the spandexed one's rant short as both his and Duo's eyes locked on the screen of the laptop. The screen was black for a few moments before a wounded Yoshi staggered to the middle of the it, blood pooling around him as his body collapsed, a Koopa carrying a smoking pistol behind it. Above said Yoshi and Koopa, red letters reading 'Mission Failed' blazed across the screen.

Shoving out of the other's grip, Heero bent over the laptop, franticly shaking the screen, as if that would help. "No." He'd made it through the entire game with one life. He'd been on the last level. He'd almost saved Luigi. It had been perfect, the entire mission had gone of without a hitch. And now, he'd... He'd... "Duo."

"Y-yes?" Duo's voice wavered as he spoke.

"I think I can help you," Heero's voice was icily calm as he stood, and it did little to calm the other pilot. "I know the perfect way to keep Wufei from sending you to an early grave." By now he had caught Duo in a corner and had a lopsided little grin on his face: weird looking on a normal person, downright horrifying on Heero Yuy. "I'll send you for him." Duo had about half a second to think over that before he was knocked unconscious.

*##**##*

... and as you know, it's not the blood or the bruises and fractures after a fight that bother me, it's the actual sound of the fight itself. That smacking of flesh against flesh is, well... It just bother's me, that's all. It makes me extremely nauseous. So, here I go into Heero and Duo's room, without knocking, to find Heero beating the tar out of Duo. Now, do I go and help Duo: no. Do I yell at Heero: no. Do I go get help: no. No, I bend over and add a new color to the room's tan carpeting. Certainly, my retching did keep Heero from landing more than two punches, but I wonder if the embarrassment was worth it. What I mean to say is, I'm sure it was, but I have a feeling that now I'll never hear the end of it from Heero. Oh well. It sounds like Wufei is back in the kitchen, and from the volume he's still angry. I may write more later.

*##**##*

Closing his journal, Quatre tucked it back under his mattress. Making sure that his roommate was still sleeping off his Hyper-Hangover, he slipped out of the room, padding down the stairs toward the kitchen.

!^~!~^!

"Damnit, Maxwell! How could you do this to me?!" Wufei's fist came down once again on the round, unyielding flesh. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? I wouldn't care?! It doesn't matter that Yuy's already exacted his revenge against you." Upon this strike, a squirt of clear liquid shot up from beneath his hand, hitting the unsuspecting pilot in the eye. Cursing, Wufei bent over the sink, using the spray hose to flush the juice from his eye. "Damnable lemon!!" The Chinese youth threw the poor, mangled half of a citrus fruit to the floor, where it rolled before landing at Quatre's feet. Noticing his unexpected 'guest,' he composed himself somewhat. "My apologies, Winner. My juicer is... malfunctioning, and the fruit was being uncooperative." He gave the other a nod of acknowledgement before turning back to his attempt to make lemonade.

Hoping to ease some of the tension in the room, Quatre stepped up to the other pilot, retrieving the lemon on his way. "Wufei, why don't you go finish the repairs on your suit, I can finish up here."

"Thank-you. That would be most... appreciated." Bowing, he was gone...

...and no one was there to see the impishly twisted grin that spread across the blonde's face as he looked back at the fruit in his hand. "I have the most wonderful idea of what to do with you..."

o.0 End?