Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing.


The Maxwell Trap

by Dorothy Winner


"There you go! Good as new."

The customer gaped as eleven-year-old Sydney Maxwell's head popped out from under his car, a smear of engine grease on her cheek. She got up and gave the hood of his car a pat. "This baby should run pretty nicely from now on," she said, wiping her fingers on a rag. She scribbled something on a pad of paper, tore the top sheet off and handed it to the customer. "Here… take this to Jeff up front and he'll give you the bill. Car'll be out front when you're done."

"Oi! Syd!" Howard called from the other end of the garage. "This one needs an oil change… can you do that for me?"

"Sure thing, Howard!" Sydney called back. Having been taught by her father how to change the oil and filter of a car at the age of eight; it was her specialty, as she was now faster at it than Howard or any of the Sweepers and even her father. Her guarantee: Less than ten minutes or your money back.

Eight minutes later, she wiped her greasy fingers off on a rag and called out, "I'm going inside for a snack, 'kay?" She sauntered inside the house and went to the refrigerator. She had just put together a sandwich when the vidphone beeped. She pressed the 'on' button. "Maxwell's Scrapyard and Repair, You Break It, We'll Fix It, Sydney speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hello, may I speak to Duo Maxwell?" the man on the screen asked.

"Sure, one moment please." Sydney opened the back door and yelled, "Oi! Dad! Phone!"

"I'll be right there, babe!" Duo yelled from the scrapyard, wiping his hands on his jeans as he ran inside the house. "Ooooh, you made a sandwich just for me? Thanks!" said Duo, swiping Sydney's sandwich.



Heidi Schbeiker grinned evilly as she typed into her computer. "Let's see how Uncle Wufei handles that one!" she said triumphantly, hitting 'send' on her new virus.

"Heidi, what are you doing?" said Hilde, suddenly appearing at the door to her daughter's room.

"N-nothing, Mom," said Heidi, hastily bringing up another window on her computer.

"Nothing, my foot," said Hilde, going over to Heidi's computer and grabbing the mouse. She closed the window and brought up her daughter's e-mail. "Messages sent: changwufei@preventers.gov. Heidi, not again!"

The vidphone downstairs began to beep. "If that's him, you will be in serious trouble, young lady," said Hilde, leaving the room and going downstairs.

A few moments later, Heidi could hear a roar of fury from the vidphone. "ONNA! MY COMPUTER HAS CRASHED AGAIN! THIS—IS—ALL—YOUR—DAUGHTER'S—FAULT!!!"

Heidi giggled.