Hey-o, and welcome to my Lil' World of Weirdness!!
I state for the record that I don't own Gundam Wing, or the wonderful characters that will be gracing this story. . . I do however lay claim to Ensign Saratone *again*, and I use him here purely as a replacement for your average Nameless OZ Minion.
Okay, that's the legal stuff out the way!!
By Doctor Megalomania
Prologue: Gun-damn Voices in the Dark!
"You trod on my foot!!"
"Heeeey! Not my fault if *you* don't watch where *I'm* landing!"
"Guys. . . it's been a long night . . ."
"This is a matter of justice, Winner! Maxwell, I'm warning you . . ."
"Let me guess, Wu-baby, the next words out of your mouth will contain at least . . ."
"Can't this wait until morning, look . . . Even Trowa's tired . . ."
". . . one 'Injustice!!', three 'dishonours' and at the *very* least . . . and I'll be personally offended if you miss this Wu-kins, at least two curses upon my family's name, honour, and/or all of the above. . ."
"Duo, Wufei, I'm trying to sleep. We have a mission soon, now shut up and rest . . . or I'll . . . I'll . . ."
"Stand aside Yuy, this is a matter of honour . . . Maxwell, you will cease your Dishonour . . ."
"That's one, Wu-Wu. . ."
"Duo, stop provoking Wufei."
"But it's fun, Quat-man . . . oh, and that's Two, Wu."
"--Son of a Bitch!"
". . . that was tame, Wu, that was very tame. . ."
"Duo, I *will* kill you to get the necessary requirement of rest I need for my mission."
"Heero, sweetums, you alllllways say that. . ."
"Maxwell! It's a dishonour that I ---"
"Yay! That's three, Wuffie!!"
"--that *I* have to work with *you*. . . it's a complete injustice!!"
"Ding, ding!! That's the Magic Word!!"
"Damn you, Maxwell!! A CURSE UPON YOUR FAMILY'S NAME AND HONOUR!!"
"Yaaaaaay!! I never knew you cared, Wu, both at the same time?! I'm touched. . ."
"Okay, that's enough for one night, Wufei. Duo . . . you *know* we should be working together, not bickering amongst each other."
"Oh my god, Relena?!"
"What?! Duo, what in the hell. . .?!"
"Oh, Q-man, for a moment, man . . . oh, it was terrible. . . for a moment there, I think you were channelling the spirit of Relena Peacecrap."
"Amusing, Duo, Hiiiillllaaaaarious. . . and stop calling her that, it's disrespectful."
"Can all of you make any more noise?"
"Why's that, T?"
"I don't think the Ozzies can hear us. . . you know. . . the ones in fucking Antarctica?!"
"Whoa. . . T-junction . . . you okay? That was a hellvalot for you to say in one go. . ."
"Shut up. Baka."
"Oh, Heero . . . it's those very three little words I live to hear from you."
"Yeah, but forever *your* idiot."
". . . Naturally."
"I don't even want to know."
"Of course not, Wu-bad-dah-boom-boom, don't want you to nosebleed all over the--"
The door swung open, light flooding the hanger deck. Duo gazed at his Deathscythe, his beloved Gundam. The huge black and gold mobile suit stood tall between Wing Zero and ShenLong. He smiled, looking forward to the next two or three weeks of nurturing he would have to do. The other pilots gathered around him, as they joined him on the gangway beside the massive machines. Damnit, "Maxwell!!" Wufei growled as he glared down from the walkway, his thin arms folded.
"What-o?" Duo sang innocently, knowing damn well what had gotten the Chinese pilot so steamed.
Wufei growled again as he pointed down, "Look what you did to Nataku!!" He shook his finger at the offending dent in the said mobile suit's foot, "Look at that dent!"
"Hey, not my problem you don't watch where my buddy's landing . . ."
"BAH!!" Wufei huffed, and glared at the offending dent as if his will alone would be capable of removing it. Quatre shook his head as he moved beside Trowa, he gazed at Sandrock, "It's nothing we can't handle here, I'm sure Rashid will put his best men to it at once." He patted Duo's shoulder, "And I'm sure Duo promises to take more care of where he is landing in the future. . ."
Heero ignored the conversation as Wufei hotly demanded Duo promise himself, he stared intently at his own Gundam, Wing Zero was tilted slightly, a fault caused by an exploding landmine. He 'Hn'-ed, and nodded slightly. Easy to repair, the mission to repair his Gundam would take less effort than to blow up a mere office in Monte Carlo.
Heero was more concerned about the recent 'improvements' the scientists had made. Early, even by his standard, the scientists had stolen the five hulking mobile suits, and taken them for 'improvements' . . . meaning, at least to the pilots, complete overhauls. There wasn't any warning, nothing in the morning of the next day, except a very empty hanger, the burn marks from the Gundams' thrusters, a group of bamboozled engineers, and, in place of each of the Gundams, a small envelope from each scientist to each pilot . . . with the exception of Duo who got a pile of rubbish and junk food wrappers with a note reading; 'Duo Shinigami Maxwell, I may not be your mother, but damned if you don't make me sound like one. EAT PROPER FOOD!!! While I'm here and not within target range . . . can I also bring up the fact that the mission log disk runner is NOT, and I repeat, NOT a donut/coffee cup holder, please stop sticking gum to the Joystick . . . And another thing, I don't want to see anymore 'bumper stickers' on Deathscythe, particularly of the sort that read: Death Rides Again . . . And Again, All Night Long, Baby!!'. I don't want to know, the other scientists don't want to know, the other pilots, esp. Wufei, probably don't want to know. . . Heero might want to know, but that's on the Q.T, anyway . . . Be back soon, be a good little Gundam pilot, Love, Prof. G.'
Other notes had been left, such as Master O's 'Wufei, drink much milk, taller you will be, with you the force will be, O.' – Wufei had just rolled his eyes and asked the others just not to ask. Doktor S's note was apparently understandable only to Trowa as that read: 'nanashi, . . . , Doktor S'. This prompted Trowa to mutter that the Doktor had entirely too much to say recently. Instructor H was just as helpful, writing to tell Quatre that: 'In the possible event that this batch of routine repairs and adjustments go horribly wrong, would you like me to send any remains from Sandrock home in a matchbox or an envelope?'
J had been just a little bit more helpful, allowing Heero to translate the complex code he had written the message in.
'Dear Heero, (Boy, it's me again.) in order to maintain the fighting fitness of our much valued pilots (Our beloved Gundams need saving from you homicidal, sociopathic, suicidal maniacs!!) We have decided (on impulse, just to piss you off) to borrow (steal) your Gundams to make (experiment) some (half a million or indeed countless) adjustments (complete overhaul) and some minor (major) tweaks (moving the coffee cup holder to the left rather than the right of the joystick according to the Theory of Feng Shui). We will of course (providing our memories don't fail us) return your Gundams (sorry, that 'y' is a typo) in fighting condition (Heero, the Fire Rocket button is the GREEN button) and hope (pray) you will continue (like you have a choice here) to fight on behalf of the colonies (or whoever the hell looks like they'll pay you the best at the end of the war). Please give my regards to Relena (The freaky bitch from hell, KILL HER!! . . . unless she will pay you the best at the end of the war), lots and lots of love (Love's the one where you want to cause innocent little boys a lot of trouble and take away their childhood by training them to be emotionless killing machines, right?) Doctor J. (Psycho bastard with too much time on his hand and claw)'
It was of course, at this point the other pilots realised there wasn't any code, Heero was just making it up as he went along.
Heero growled quietly to himself, what possible changes could the scientists made? During the first mission, Heero had found nothing out of the ordinary, and the mission had come as soon as the Gundams had been returned.
"Perhaps they added cherry scented air fresheners."
Heero snorted almost silently, as Trowa moved forward. He hadn't noticed the taller boy's approached, and had long since given up on trying. Trowa was an expert at remaining undetected, you couldn't see, hear or even feel him near, unless he wanted you to, even if he was standing directly in view. The Circus loving clown came only second in stealth to Duo, no matter how unlikely that seemed.
"I take it that you didn't notice anything . . . strange about your Gundam either."
"You will discover it." Trowa cut in, he nodded, "As will I . . . even if it means taking Heavyarms to pieces. . . I suspect you will find the same about the others."
Heero blinked once, his only response. Quatre moved to Trowa's side, not touching but not so far as to forbid it. The blonde boy stared up at his own beloved machine. Sandrock was imposing, even if it was the shortest of the Gundam, standing a few metres shorter than the others. It was strange how the Gundams seemed to mirror the pilots, Sandrock, ShenLong, and Deathscythe were the shorter Gundams, while Wing and Heavyarms stood the taller. Burn scorches marred Sandrock's paler bulkheads, and the gold crown, and Quatre knew too well, that bullet holes marked the Gundam's back.
He shivered, knowing that staying in the dark, cold hanger wasn't best for the boys. They were supposed to be resting, but morbid fascination drew them to their Gundams.
"Come on, whatever changed will not change back over night . . ." Quatre forced himself to turn from his Gundam. Duo chuckled and clapped a hand on Quatre's shoulder.
"Oh, I dunno, buddy!" A cold glint passed over the laughing eyes, meaning the joke wasn't all funny, "Last time it did. . ."
Quatre smiled slightly, knowing how angry Duo had been about the theft. Wufei nodded something to Nataku, a silent prayer as he always did, before turning to address the others. "Indeed . . ." He confirmed, "It has been a long night, and the mission invigorating. Sleep and meditation is required."
As the pilots filed out again, Trowa stayed in the half closed hanger door, picking up his and Duo's forgotten duffle bags. He glanced up at his Gundam as it parodied his face, half of it's face captured in the light, the other hidden by the shadows, the single visible gel green eye staring other blankly. "Goodnight, Heavyarms . . ." He frowned slightly, as the reflections on the eye shifted slightly. He blinked and the lights shifted again, back to their previous position. Trowa shook his head as duo came back to say one last good night to his own Gundam, and pick up his duffle bag.
He nodded to Trowa as the taller boy handed his bag. "Thanks man . . . hey, Q's looking for ya!" He elbowed Trowa in the ribs gently, knowing some ribs might have been bruised during the last mission, "I noticed he had an almost . . . feral look in his eyes . . ." Duo chuckled dirtily, "I don't think the lions are the only ones who'll need tamin' tonight!"
A corner of Trowa's lips stretched up, and then fell back in to uniform with the rest of his face. The jade-eyed boy nodded once, and set off to find his fellow pilot.
Duo shook his head, and glanced at his Gundam again, "Well buddy, looks like it's gonna be a bit of one-on-one action tomorrow. Sure hope you're up to it!"
The door slammed shut again, dosing the hanger in darkness again. Duo's tones still echoing quietly off the walls, and around Gundams as they stood quietly.
"One-on-one action tomorrow?"
"I know what it means. . . can I watch?"
There was quiet laughter from Sandrock and Heavyarms, as Wing leant slightly closer to his partner mobile suit. ShenLong shook his head, creaking quietly, as he staunchly refused to give into the pain in his foot.
"I don't think he meant that kind of one-on-one action, Heero. . ."
Wing sniggered darkly, and whispered into his partner's audio-sensors, "Hey, a Gundam can hypothesize a scenario, can't he?"
Looking up from his shoelaces, Duo blinked. He glanced down, looking through his legs, Heero was in the mission room, finishing his log. . . wasn't he?
He glanced up again, long braid swing with the movement.
If Heero was in the mission room, then why could Duo have sworn he'd just heard Heero whispering in the hanger?
And Now It's Time For Leave It To Doctor Megalomania!!
DrM: [Grins] I'm Baaaaack!! Heh, heh . . . anyway, yup this is a nice brand new series I'm going to start . . . I demand justice for the Gundams!!
Wing: [bored] Why? We're only mobile suits . . .
Deathscythe: [taken back] We are?
Nataku: Much as it pains us. . . alas!! It's true!! we are only machines!!
DrM: but! But! But! What about the episode when Sandrock tells Quatre to get off?!
Sandrock: Do you have any idea how heavy that boy is?! He may look really light, but I swear. . .
DrM: [ignoring SR] and, and, and . . . what about the end, when they blow up the Gundams?!
Heavyarms: [frowns] what of it?
DrM: [Sobs] I LOVE THE GUNDAMS!!! AND THEY BLEW YOU TO SMITHERINS!!! DAMN THEM, DAMN THEM ALL TO HELL!!
Wing: [raises gundamianum eyebrow] yes, quite . . . ahem . . . we've got to. . . leave now . . . [to readers, urgent whisper] RUN!!
DrM: [blinks] what was that, Wing?
Wing: [grinning] I told them to . . . to . . . REVIEW!! Yeeesss . . . review, exactly what I told them . . . [makes quick motions towards the door]