We Fit Right
By: Elizabeth Dunn
Disclaimers: These characters do not belong to me. I am using them for fun, not profit. If you sue me, all you'll get are my medical bills and college bills. The song 'We Fit Right' likewise does not belong to me. It belongs to a wonderful singer/songwriter named Deidre Flint. Look up her stuff at mp3.com sometime-it's worth it if you're in the mood for a laugh :)
Rating: R
Pairing: 1x2/2x1
Author's Notes: I just got the sudden inspiration to write a humor fic...and this song about dysfunctional relationships just seemed to fit :-p Yes, I am still working on 'Firelight,' don't worry about that-but if something pours out in about half an hour, then I guess it just had to be written :) Warning for some slight language, tad of Relena-bashing, and bitter sarcasm. And for the SDDI list-this is *humor*--I'm not making Duo dumb, he's just ranting :)
Archiving: Anywhere, just keep my name and disclaimers attached.
Feedback is always appreciated. Flames will be ignored and passed on to my English major friends for critique and analysis.

**--denotes song lyrics


**Let's make this real clear, let's not get ideas
bout seeing you and me as a permanent plan**

It's all about the sex. I mean, it really has to be. It's the only logical explanation for Heero and I. Anybody would take one look at us and say we're total opposites...not the type that attract, but the type that *repel* each other.

And yet...every time our paths cross, we find ourselves drawn to each other like moths to flame.

**We bicker, we fight we argue all night and
I don't think a future bodes well with that**

But, hell, we can't even sleep together without *some* sort of confrontation. Seme, uke, which position, with or without lube-depending on our patience levels and time-what *brand*...the list goes on and on.

If we can't even figure out how to screw each other, how can we possibly want to be together at any other time?

**You constantly complain I bring on your migraines
You in turn spawn mine**

You think it's fun talking to a brick wall? Well, actually it's worse-a brick wall doesn't issue death threats and try to shut you up with physical violence.

And you can at least *understand* why a brick wall is silent-it doesn't have the capability to talk back. A human does. But trying to hold a conversation with Heero is like beating my head against said brick wall.

Not very healthy for either of us, if you ask me.

**I annoy you so much that you froth at the mouth
And I don't think that's a good sign, oh no it's like a. . .**

I honestly think that the only person he threatens anywhere as much as me is Relena. How do you like that? The two people who show the strongest emotions towards him, and all he can do is threaten.

But hey, at least *I'm* getting some. Little princess is out in the cold.

Besides, some of our hottest sex has started with Heero body-slamming me in order to shut my mouth and quit annoying him. Heero shoving his tongue down my throat is the option I prefer....

**Psycho diner waitress on a blind date with a New York tipper
Narcoleptic hand model learning how to use a chipper
Jesse Helmes in Frisco, Mormons at a disco ladies night
Caught with an Amway salesman in a broken elevator
Baby back ribs on a cheesebun served up at a seder**

Everything about Heero's and my relationship is a disaster waiting to happen.

One of there days, he's going to snap and follow through on all those 'omae o korosus.' Or I'm going to lose it and shove a thermal scythe where the sun don't shine. Either way, I can bet you that the end results won't be pretty.

So many contradictions, so little time....

**We're oil and water, though sometimes I'll concur
We fit right.**

But then...there will be those times where it'll just be the two of us, and everything will just feel so...perfect. Watching a sunrise or a sunset together, basking in the afterglow of the most incredible-at least to that point-sexual experience of our young lives. We can almost convince ourselves that we *can* manage forever. That our love is that strong.

Of course, invariably, we're at each other's throats five minutes later. But it's always nice while it lasts.

**Your voice is annoying your manner is cloying,
Every thought process starts with I, me, mine.**

Well, it's not that I'd call Heero self-centered exactly, but...why is it always about the fucking *mission*?! For once, just *once*, it'd be nice if his focus was on survival, and not only the end result. I mean, I might not want the guy in my life forever, but it'd sure be nice if he were around until, oh, *tomorrow*.

And if something doesn't fit in with the mission...God help you, because that's the only thing that can. I mean, Heero schedules *sex* around the mission! Now, I admit, a PalmPilot is a good thing, but there are some things that *benefit* from a little spontaneity, ya know?

**You say that I'm anal, conversantly banal
I think the same of you but man, you sure look fine**

Ya know, Heero once told me that I've got as much depth as a wading pool for a flea [1]. Well, buddy, hate to break it to ya, but you're no Mr. Wizard yourself. Why do you think I talk to Deathscythe so much? It's sad when an inanimate mecha is more interesting to converse with than something with, oh, I don't know, *vocal cords*?

But man, that ass wrapped in those skin-tight spandex...if he ever heard how I can wax poetic on *that* I bet he wouldn't be calling me shallow then...or maybe he would. Bet he wouldn't know beauty if it walked up to him wearing a neon sign. And don't tell me that he's screwing me for my pretty face. As long as I spread my legs, he won't notice. Hell, I bet he wouldn't notice if my face becomes permanently disfigured, but, man, if my asshole ever mysteriously closes up or becomes damaged, he'll notice *that*.

**As for common interests, there's nothing we've got
I'm well bred and you're well, not**

And at least I'll let myself acknowledge that I feel something for Heero Yuy. No emotions, my ass-he's got them, all right, he just ignores them. Guy's cruising for an ulcer one day, and when it happens, man, it'll be the uber-ulcer [2], the ulcer to end all ulcers. And, ya know something-when that happens, I'll be the *first* to point, laugh, and say 'I told you so!'

And social graces.... Well, let me tell you, it's sad when a street rat has better behaviors at gatherings and such. Guess Emily Post wasn't part of Wonderboy's training.

**My deepest conversation with you
Was when you were unconscious in the ICU, but it's usually like. . .**

Suicidal freak...bound and determined to not see the end of this war. He seems to think that when this bout of fighting is over, then everything will be all Utopian and shit, with everyone joining hands and signing 'Kumbayah' around a campfire.

Well, Heero-hate to tell you, but look at history-maybe a couple years of peace, then, guess what, another war! Human nature isn't *designed* for total pacifism-that's my main problem with that walking ball of cotton candy that likes to call herself 'Queen of the World.'

But when I try and tell Heero, he just glares and tells me that I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Ya know...sometimes I like him better unconscious...at least I can speak my opinions without being knocked down for doing something as radical as rubbing two brain cells together. At least *I* can produce a spark.

**A dozen lonely belly dancers stranded at a monastery
Lactose intolerant Hindu working at a dairy
Chili without Bean-o, Carmelites in Reno Friday night
Acrophobic Hydrophobes trekkin to Niagara Falls
Ex-klepto self help groups with meetings held in shopping malls**

God-the one time we actually *agreed* that we should go out-and that's a minor miracle itself, let me tell you-we had different ideas of what constituted 'fun.' Yes, I like doing things like clubbing and partying, but sometimes-like that time-a quiet walk in the country suits me fine.

*His* idea of fun? Going to the shooting range and firing off a couple of clips. Doesn't he shoot *enough* things in the course of a day *without* adding those little clay discs to the casualty lists, too?

And ya know, I pity those poor little discs...I mean, what did they ever do to us?

**We're oil and water, though sometimes I'll concur
We fit right**

But those times, in the course of a day, or in the middle of a mission, where we're able to just *look* at each other and instinctively *know* what the other is thinking...then is when I can believe that there is a such a thing as happily ever, and that it exists with Heero. That we can fight off the rest of the world as long as we're in each other's arms.

**But oh lord, I'm lost when you open your arms and beckon me in its
Amazing how you make me forget all our differences for at least 12 minutes**

Of course, then one of us will make *some* sort of comment, and we'll be at it like cats and dogs again. Worse, actually. I've seen cats and dogs get along. Lions and gazelles, maybe.

**But it's usually like
Woodshop workshops at a halfway house for hemophiliacs
Belevue kitchen worker with just a touch of anthrax
Pyromanic firefighters heading up a defilade
Jim Jones trading card in every can of cherry kool-aid**

It's all enough to make me wonder if I should just end this parody of a caring, committed relationship. Call it quits while we can still walk away with our sanity-and various body parts-still intact.

**We're oil and water, though sometimes, I'll concur . . .
We fit right.**

Of course, who else is out there that can tolerate our individual quirks as well as we do? Maybe it's not perfect, but it seems to be working.

For now at least. Until we see each other again and have the time for more than mind-blowing sex.

Because, hey-it's all about the sex.

**We fit right.**


The End


[1] My mother wants credit for this, and she deserves it-it's her line. Yes, I ask my mother for insult ideas. She's a bitterly sarcastic woman-just like me! I learn from the best :-p Love ya, Mommy! :) And now she's happy :-p

[2] *screams, sighs, giggles* I'm spending too much time with my friend Mary Kate if 'uber' is becoming a permanent part of my vocabulary :-p