Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Equipment-1 ❯ Chapter 1

EQUIPMENT - 1

Warning: yaoi, 2x1x2, limey attempt at humour and a gentle poke at some fanfic stereotypes

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Sunrise, Shotsu Agency, Bandai, and other corporations, and has been used without permission, purely for entertainment purposes. No pilots were harmed in the making of this fic. Nor were their props.

I sit panting on the cold tile floor. The palms of my hands are red and raw from the friction, my head cradled between my knees. The pain behind my temples has not abated one bit during this exercise in frustration. Argh!!!! I can't believe that this is happening to me!

I slowly crawl up the cold porcelain pedestal of the sink and turn off the hot water. Ok. One more time. I take the bottle out of the sink and then, with the palm of my hand pressing down, twist right. Fuck. Still won't open. Sigh. Grasp lid, pull up, twist right. Left. Right. Shit fuck. Still won't come off! Throw thrice damned Satan-designed bottle against the wall and kick tub for good measure. Maybe it will distract me from the bastard headache that has had me in its grip since breakfast. Good thing the bottle's plastic, ne?

I never get sick. Never had a cold. Never had a fever. Never had food poisoning despite having spent my formative years dining from the most unsanitary trash cans in the alleys of L2. Never got the plague. Not even a sniffle. Dr. G figures it's 'cause my core body temperature is 2 degrees above normal. That's right - I run at a comfortable 100.6, which explains why I freeze easily and my high metabolic rate that results in eating enough for two people and never gaining an ounce. He figures it burns off any virus or bacteria that gets into me. Yeah me. I figure it's because I really am the G of D, but if I insist on that little bit, he'll put yours truly into the ole strait-jacket for sure. But I do get headaches. Killer headaches. Ones that make your teeth ache and your vision blur and that's why I've spent the last fucking hour rooting through Quatre's many bathrooms to find the aspirin.

ASA. That's the only thing that works for me. None of that Tylenol shit or ibuprofen. Those things don't do a damn thing. Just acetylsalicylic acid. And only one tablet. It always does the trick. Course I ran out, right? So Q-man should have some on hand, right? Nah. That would be too harsh on the stomach, and Quatre being so considerate and all, only stocks Tylenol. Which is why I am in a battle royale with a bottle of decongestant cough syrup. And losing.

So there's no pain killers anywhere, except for the usual heavy duty emergency kind we use when any of us are injured. I can't take them. My weird metabolism gives me scary, in-a-cool-kind-of-way-for-me-but-not-for-anyone-else, side-effects. Just when I think I might feel better if I just smash my forehead against the mirror, I find the bottle of cough syrup. Problem is, my headache is so bad I can't read the minuscule writing that they have on the side with all the ingredients. But it does say DM on the front - I mean, my initials, hey! It's gotta be good for me. Ok, I'm not that dumb, but I figure chances are there is something in there that will at least dull the pain a bit. People with congestion due to colds must be in pain, right? I mean, have you ever seen Wufei when he's got one? Man, talk about bite your head off for saying good morning! He gets downright nasty when he's stuffed up. Of course, if he'd just remove that damn stick he's got jammed so far up his...

Anyway, I try to open the bottle. It's got one of those child-proof lids on it. Not like the ones on the aspirin bottle where you can just line up the little arrows and snap it up and off. Noooo. It's got one of those trick ones where you either have to push down and turn or pull up and turn. At the same time. Problem is, the instructions are written in raised white plastic on a white plastic lid and my vision is so blurred I can't see what it says and I think it's been opened before and the syrup's dried on it so the goddamned thing will not fucking open!! Where's a kid when you need one, that's what I want to know. I mean, if you want a child-proof lid off of something, give it to a kid - they'll have it off in a sec! Heh, heh, kind of proves I'm not as infantile as some people make me out to be.

And no, my lock-picking skills are not going to be of help.

This is so fucking unfair! I pick up the bottle again. Press, twist, press, turn, pull, twist, turn, pull, twist, twist. Shit, I think my palm's bleeding. Great, how the hell am I going to explain that one to Heero? Ah, just pass it off as something that happened when working on 'Scythe. Hey! Pliers!! I have pliers in the bedroom!

Run down hall, run back to bathroom and scoop up precious bottle, run back down hall to bedroom. Ok, where'd I put them? Lessee...nope, not in duffel ....not in drawers.... not in night table....under the bed....Christ, how the hell did they get behind the headboard? Oh yeah, the ring bolts for the handcuffs...heh heh heh. That was quite fun, actually.

Sigh. Ok, here I am sitting on the bed. Recalcitrant (yes I do know big words and am not afraid to use 'em) bottle grasped firmly between knees and vice-grip pliers firmly in hand. You're going down, baby! Clamp. Turn. Wow, sure disintegrated the plastic on that lid to little bits, didn't it? S'ok. Don't think we need it anyway, there isn't really that much cough syrup in the bottle, and cherry flavoured too, by the smell of it. My fav! Naturally I down the lot. Looking at the bottle I estimate it had about four good tablespoons left. That ought to do something for my poor aching head. I smack my lips. This stuff tastes pretty good - almost like that fancy cherry brandy Relena serves when she decides she needs to see Heero and has to invite the rest of us along for cover. I peek quickly over my shoulder and knock on wood, just in case.

Actually I am feeling better already. My nose sure feels clear, almost like there's a desert breeze that has come up and dried everything...hmm. Maybe nose-bleeds are a side effect. Nah. Probably not. I head back to the bathroom, clean up the mess I made in my search for pain-relief and toss the empty bottle and lid-bits into the trash. Nice wicker, Q.

I head out to go downstairs and find the rest of the guys when one of them finds me. I remove my nose from the strap of Heero's tank top and grin at him.

"Why are you walking with your head down?"

Hmmm. Good question. I don't normally do that. Maybe I'm embarrassed, having been bested by a stupid child-proof lid. There's no way I am going to give that kind of information to my oh-so-literal friend.

I feel my eyes brighten and make a snarky comment on baka mustard-coloured sneakers. Nice recovery, I really have no idea why my neck seems to be at cooked-spaghetti strength all of a sudden.

"We have a mission."

Sugoi! Cabin fever has been banished. Something to actually do. Mansions and servants are peachy and everything, but they kind of make me nervous after a week, like maybe I'll get used to all of this and it'll be taken away forever....

"Are you coming?"

Actually I am breathing kinda hard now that you mention it and maybe it's those vacuum-sealed spandex of yours that's doing it to me ....or maybe my head is down someplace on my chest again for some other reason and wants to be much lower than that. I grab onto a stair rail and smoothly swing myself ahead and down a few steps from Heero. Face forward and nose to fully-packed crotch.

That is my intention at any rate. We all know where those lead and mine apparently is headed full tilt down the stairs in an ignominious heap. I throw out a hand in desperation and manage to snag the last rail, push off on the right foot before it bends underneath my treacherous body and manage a not too bad landing. Might loose points in the technique department but sure to score in artistic merit.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You never lose your balance!"

Is there a glare with this? I can't tell, my eyes are fixed on those damned yellow sneakers, they remind me of something. I'm trying to decide if it is scary or not when I feel my chin grabbed and firmly directed prussian-blue-wise. Make that pissed-off wise as well. I sigh. His nose crinkles.

"Have you been drinking?"

His eyes get bigger and bigger and I feel like I'm swimming in blue satin water and blue satin sheets and I see even bluer bubbles coming from somewhere behind his head so I try to pop one...

"What the FUCK are you doing? Duo? DUO??"

Blue blue blue nuit bleu. That's some kind of late night porn show, on the "ooo - ahh" channel, 'cause that's about the only dialogue you hear and I wonder if this show has the same sound effects so I slither down my partner's body and head due south where the heavy equipment lays all nestled and ready for my syrup tinged mouth.... I am rudely interrupted in this lovely living fantasy and hauled back up to my feet. To look at a worried Heero. Which is not a good thing usually, for the less than worried Duo part of this partnersnip. Shnip. Fuck, I was going somewhere with this. Something to do with escaped sneakers from the colour patrol. I think.

"Are you feeling ok, Duo? What's wrong?"

I hear that sexy voice imploring, all pretence of calm now gone. I am fine. I feel great! Kitto Ok. Nothing wrong here at all. I used to have a headache, but now it's gone, gone, gone. So I breathe cherry-infused fumes into my lover's face and lean over to try and bite that pointy little nose of his and sigh, "headache," at him.

He looks as confused as I feel.

"What did you take?"

I whisper something something DM in his ear and let my hands wander into the lower quadrants of his biker shorts, where they are trapped by cruel bands of iron....who knew Heero Yuy wore a chastity belt? This I have to see, but it's just his hands, though I could have sworn there was metal there a minute ago. A flash of dull yellow grabs my attention and I realise that those sneakers are really starting to disturb me. Could they be...

"Cough syrup? You took cough syrup for a headache? Dare I ask why?"

I know there is a reason. A perfectly logical explanation that will actually explain and not be an excuse 'cause I am not the type to whine. Even when I am in a lot of pain. Headache. Yes that's the reason. I was in pain so I...loose my train of thought completely when the eyelets on Heero's feet blink at me. Before I can even process that, I am pounding back up the stairs and into the bathroom, flinging the door wide open. Or would have been had said door actually been open to start with, so I once again find myself sliding less than gracefully down a wooden frame.

Wufei opens the door at the dull thudding sound, bends down to stare at me, but is pushed aside as Heero, my hero, stalks into the bathroom and returns a few seconds later. With the decongestant bottle. I recognise it immediately because it's the one without the cap. Opening my mouth to point out this little development, I am suddenly silenced by the horrific vision of mustard yellow sneakers mere inches from my prone body. Instinct takes over and it is flight or fight. Fight hasn't worked so far, score is bottle-cap and wooden door one apiece, Duo zip. Oh, and stairs. Flight it is.

TBC