Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Forks ❯ Forks ( One-Shot )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
Author: Talia Maxwell
Rating: PG for very mild language
Warnings: Culture-shocked Wufei, makes him look a tad stupid.
Archive: www.wufeiduo.net, FF.net, MM.org, Under the Couch, and Liquid Inspiration. (For a link to Under the Couch, email me, it's a friend's site. Liquid Inspiration, my site, is not yet up, but getting close to launch date.)
Feedback: Tips on how I can improve my writing are always welcome! (So are plot bunnies, for that matter!)
Notes: First Fic in the Learning Arc.
Forks
=====
Settling down on the seat, Chang Wufei stared dubiously at his food, silently wondering how the hell he was going to get it from plate to mouth. His gaze shifted, taking in the plastic 'silverware' with great wariness. He did not quite understand why something made of plastic was called silver, but pushed that inconsistency out of his mind for the moment, shifting his attention to the more important matter. Just what that 'silverware' was for.
Apparently, silverware were the tools used for eating, and though he recognized the poor attempt at a knife, and the vastly deformed spoon, he could not quite understand the third piece. It had a handle like all the others, and started out not terribly unlike the spoon, but split into four tongs near the handle. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? It wouldn't hold anything, and he'd be damned if he could find a pair of chopsticks onboard the Peacemillion, after losing his last pair when he was captured (albeit willingly) by Tubarov.
Inwardly cursing his luck, and outwardly giving his silverware a wary, irritated look, he nearly didn't notice when Duo made his way over.
"Hey, 'Fei! Whatcha doin'?" Duo gave Wufei his unfailing smirk, settling down into the seat across from the Asian with a tray of his own. The lunchroom was empty save for the two, who'd come in a bit late for their food.
"Thinking about eating," Wufei replied honestly, bringing a hand up to slowly lift the strange utensil. "You wouldn't happen to have any chopsticks, would you?"
"Uh, no, I don't think so." Duo frowned slightly. "What's wrong with what ya got?"
A black eyebrow arched elegantly. "If I could place a name to this... Thing," Wufei nodded at the unidentified utensil. "I would still be unable to use it. I'm not entirely sure that eating will be worth the effort of getting the food to my mouth." He frowned sourly. The frown only deepened when Duo burst out laughing.
"Dear god, Wu! Don't tell me that wasn't a joke! Come on! How can you not know what a fork is?" Duo was beside himself with mirth, grinning widely at the Asian. "I never knew you had a sense of humor locked up in there!"
"Maxwell," The name came out as a growl. "I am not joking."
Slowly, Duo realized that Wufei really was serious, and his laughter faded. "Really?" He asked, blinking in owlish amazement at the other pilot. The scholarly Chang Wufei had no clue what a fork was? The world was full of surprises!
Wufei scowled. "No, Maxwell, I'm simply making myself look like a fool for your personal enjoyment." The comment was scathing with irritated sarcasm.
Wincing slightly, the American gave a little smirk. "Well, then, allow me to explain." Dup picked up his own fork. "This is called a fork. To eat with it, you stab your food mercilessly until it's stuck on the little tongs. Then, you shove it in your mouth, close your teeth around the food, and yank the tongs out."
"How... Barbaric," Wufei replied, frowning all the more irritably at his fork. "And you describe in such aptly humble terms." The Chinese teen shook his head gently, curling his hand into a fist around the fork's handle, and tentatively stabbing a piece of his lunch, which consisted of golden-brown balls of crunchy grease masquerading as popcorn shrimp. Gently trying to spear one of the elusive balls of batter, he ended up stabbing the plate beneath roughly, and sending the innocent piece of food flying over towards Duo.
Offering a soft laugh, Duo caught the offending shrimp, and popped it into his own mouth. "What you got there, 'Fei," He offered, "Is what we Americans call 'finger food'. Don't bother with the fork, you'll just make a mess."
Flushing slightly, Wufei set the fork aside, and almost shyly picked up a shrimp with his fingers, popping it into his mouth. Finding that the little thing actually tasted like something other than grease, he offered the tiniest of smiles. "Thank you, for enlightening me."
Duo simply smirked, picking up the grilled cheese he'd ordered for himself, dipping it mercilessly into a creamy red soup, and took a bite. They continued their meal in companionable silence, and somehow, they both understood that this embarrassing little encounter wouldn't be shared with the rest of the ship's inhabitants.
Wufei was grateful.
Duo was humbled.
They were both just a little kinder to one another after that.
Rating: PG for very mild language
Warnings: Culture-shocked Wufei, makes him look a tad stupid.
Archive: www.wufeiduo.net, FF.net, MM.org, Under the Couch, and Liquid Inspiration. (For a link to Under the Couch, email me, it's a friend's site. Liquid Inspiration, my site, is not yet up, but getting close to launch date.)
Feedback: Tips on how I can improve my writing are always welcome! (So are plot bunnies, for that matter!)
Notes: First Fic in the Learning Arc.
Forks
=====
Settling down on the seat, Chang Wufei stared dubiously at his food, silently wondering how the hell he was going to get it from plate to mouth. His gaze shifted, taking in the plastic 'silverware' with great wariness. He did not quite understand why something made of plastic was called silver, but pushed that inconsistency out of his mind for the moment, shifting his attention to the more important matter. Just what that 'silverware' was for.
Apparently, silverware were the tools used for eating, and though he recognized the poor attempt at a knife, and the vastly deformed spoon, he could not quite understand the third piece. It had a handle like all the others, and started out not terribly unlike the spoon, but split into four tongs near the handle. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? It wouldn't hold anything, and he'd be damned if he could find a pair of chopsticks onboard the Peacemillion, after losing his last pair when he was captured (albeit willingly) by Tubarov.
Inwardly cursing his luck, and outwardly giving his silverware a wary, irritated look, he nearly didn't notice when Duo made his way over.
"Hey, 'Fei! Whatcha doin'?" Duo gave Wufei his unfailing smirk, settling down into the seat across from the Asian with a tray of his own. The lunchroom was empty save for the two, who'd come in a bit late for their food.
"Thinking about eating," Wufei replied honestly, bringing a hand up to slowly lift the strange utensil. "You wouldn't happen to have any chopsticks, would you?"
"Uh, no, I don't think so." Duo frowned slightly. "What's wrong with what ya got?"
A black eyebrow arched elegantly. "If I could place a name to this... Thing," Wufei nodded at the unidentified utensil. "I would still be unable to use it. I'm not entirely sure that eating will be worth the effort of getting the food to my mouth." He frowned sourly. The frown only deepened when Duo burst out laughing.
"Dear god, Wu! Don't tell me that wasn't a joke! Come on! How can you not know what a fork is?" Duo was beside himself with mirth, grinning widely at the Asian. "I never knew you had a sense of humor locked up in there!"
"Maxwell," The name came out as a growl. "I am not joking."
Slowly, Duo realized that Wufei really was serious, and his laughter faded. "Really?" He asked, blinking in owlish amazement at the other pilot. The scholarly Chang Wufei had no clue what a fork was? The world was full of surprises!
Wufei scowled. "No, Maxwell, I'm simply making myself look like a fool for your personal enjoyment." The comment was scathing with irritated sarcasm.
Wincing slightly, the American gave a little smirk. "Well, then, allow me to explain." Dup picked up his own fork. "This is called a fork. To eat with it, you stab your food mercilessly until it's stuck on the little tongs. Then, you shove it in your mouth, close your teeth around the food, and yank the tongs out."
"How... Barbaric," Wufei replied, frowning all the more irritably at his fork. "And you describe in such aptly humble terms." The Chinese teen shook his head gently, curling his hand into a fist around the fork's handle, and tentatively stabbing a piece of his lunch, which consisted of golden-brown balls of crunchy grease masquerading as popcorn shrimp. Gently trying to spear one of the elusive balls of batter, he ended up stabbing the plate beneath roughly, and sending the innocent piece of food flying over towards Duo.
Offering a soft laugh, Duo caught the offending shrimp, and popped it into his own mouth. "What you got there, 'Fei," He offered, "Is what we Americans call 'finger food'. Don't bother with the fork, you'll just make a mess."
Flushing slightly, Wufei set the fork aside, and almost shyly picked up a shrimp with his fingers, popping it into his mouth. Finding that the little thing actually tasted like something other than grease, he offered the tiniest of smiles. "Thank you, for enlightening me."
Duo simply smirked, picking up the grilled cheese he'd ordered for himself, dipping it mercilessly into a creamy red soup, and took a bite. They continued their meal in companionable silence, and somehow, they both understood that this embarrassing little encounter wouldn't be shared with the rest of the ship's inhabitants.
Wufei was grateful.
Duo was humbled.
They were both just a little kinder to one another after that.