Author's Note: A while ago I suddenly realized that I had written no real Gundam Wing fics, on this site or any other, and nearly had a panic attack. What is wrong with me? It is, after all, just about my favorite anime ever... the first one I ever watched that had no Pikachu in it... Anyway. Here is a Gundam fic, extra humor, a soothing balm to my melancholy soul. Peace.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me, unfortunately. If it did, every episode would have had a Super Duo Madness Minute built in automatically. In reality it belongs to Bandai and various other companies and or persons.
For Your Info: This is a humor fic. Most likely, it will contain some OOC. But hopefully not too much. It is set after the war, as will become obvious. Chapter one follows our favorite (and most kawaii) braided baka, Duo, and tells it from his point of view. Enjoy.
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You know how they say that "the best laid plans of men go awry?" Or something like that. Well, they're not joking, whoever they are that made that up. No matter how well thought out your plan may be, no matter how carefully you execute it, something can always goof it up. Let's take vacations, for example.
I guess it all began with the stress.
I suppose you could say that at that time we were all a little bit on edge, the five of us former Gundam pilots. Even I, the infamously laid back Duo Maxwell, was beginning to feel tension's cold sting.
For example, Heero, Wufei, and I all had Preventers to cope with. Now don't get me wrong, it's a great job. Decent pay, good health benefits (considering what it is we do every day), and plenty of excitement. Plus, it serves the purpose of giving Wufei an outlet for his Flaming Justice, and keeping Heero from flipping like a remote control puppy.
However. It is in fact a demanding occupation that requires intense physical and mental prowess. One wrong move on your average work day and you can find yourself suddenly, violently, and painfully separated from your backside.
On Quatre's end he had the Winner Corporation, running it more or less on his own. Normally he's in his element here. Multi-billion dollar deals, meetings with powerful and influential persons, press conferences, the occasional assassination attempt – you name it, he can deal with it. And he loves the challenge. Thrives on it. Rolls in it like a cat in nip-nip. But, then again... everyone needs the odd break. Which he doesn't take. Inevitably, a job like that with no respite can and will lead to mental and physical exhaustion.
And Trowa. Dear Trowa. Clown Boy. The Circus Freak, affectionately. While not quite as mentally fried as the rest of us, he was so physically strung up he rivaled one of those cute multicolored plastic frogs that go flying across the table the moment you touch their little tab. I think Catherine might have had something to do with that, she and her knives and her screaming and hitting and not-so-perfect aim... that's just me speculating.
But I digress. The final straw, the big tip off, came when the confrontations started.
Heero pulled his gun on a grocery store clerk who had the nerve to card him and refused to sell him a case of Miller beer. It took all our Preventer prowess and Quatre's political connections to keep him out of jail.
One morning Trowa and I had words, shouts, and eventually a fist fight over who was to control the remote. Now, I may run and hide occasionally, but I will never, ever surrender the remote when Pokemon comes on. Apparently Trowa has the same philosophy about Animal Cops. By the time the others intervened and restrained us the fight had become irrelevant; both our shows were over anyway. However, I did learn never to fight with bang boy. He plays dirty; he's a hair puller.
Quatre fell asleep at his desk while chipping away at the giant, never-receding mountain of paperwork that resides there. The next morning he arrived late to work with a headache and a crick in his neck and told a cheerful newbie office employee to go to hell and take the paperwork with her. I personally think it traumatized them both.
And Wufei, for no apparent reason, one day took on a small kitchen appliance in cold blood; specifically, the toaster in the Preventers break room. When it refused to work he broke off the little lever and threw the entire apparatus (plus untoasted bread) out the third story window. The only problem with all this was the exact location where the toaster landed.
It hit Sally Po. In the head. I suppose it's a wonder she survived the experience – it was a pretty hefty toaster. But then again, I suppose it's also a wonder the Wu-man lived after she got her hands on him. Me myself, I would have made sure the toaster was plugged in first.
Needless to say, after these rather violent incidents that divulged exactly how much stress was being carried around by five teenagers who are still months shy of being legal to buy lottery tickets, it became clear that a vacation was in order. Soon. (I privately figured that if some de-stressing wasn't done in the immediate future, a homicide would be. It's never good to push Heero's buttons, in particular. Not with that gun.)
The tension built. The storm continued to brew. Wufei began to use screaming as his chief mode of communication. The kitty-Quat began to growl and hiss, literally. I spent a good portion of my time hiding in my room with the door locked. It wasn't cool, man.
And then, as luck would have it, salvation called to us. On the phone, no less.
One evening in early summer Quatre got a call from one of his older sisters. (Please don't ask me what her name was, 'cause Blondie has about a thousand sisters and I can't remember them all. Hell, I don't think Quatre can remember them all half the time! Anyways.)
It turned out that she and her cute little family lived away out in the boonies, on a farm about eight hours from Preventer base. As I hung about the door, shamelessly eavesdropping, I discovered that she and her husband and their little daughter wanted to experience a taste of life in the big city, and would we all like to come out to her place and watch the house for them and do the farm scene for a week?
In short, Quatre said yes. Screamed it, actually, at the top of his lungs. It probably deafened his poor sister, but it seemed like it was worth it, for at last our prayers had been answered. We had a vacation destination, lined up and ready to go expense free.
At the time, it seemed like a gift from Heaven... so how were we to know that fateful phone call was but the harbinger of a series of events that would scar us all, in one way or another, for the rest of our natural lives?
O.O.O.O.O
The trip there was normal enough.
I sat in the back seat of Heero's converted Hummer, nursing a sore head. Heero had thrown me back there when I leaned out the passenger window and asked some old man at a stoplight if he had any Grey Poupon. Hee-chan has no sense of humor.
We'd been on the road literally forever (eight and a quarter hours) and I was understandably ready to die. Unfortunately, no one else seemed to share my sentiments. Wufei was reading in the corner seat, Trowa, enjoying his Catherine-free time, was napping, and Quatre, with the aid of a map and handwritten directions from sis, was pointing out the way to Heero. Therefore, I was SOL in the entertainment department.
"Are we there yet?" I finally moaned, thumping my bare feet against the back of Trowa's chair in a vain attempt to wake him up so he'd pay attention to me. I know, I know. I'm an immature brat.
"Soon," Quatre replied patiently, just like he had for the past ten times I'd whined. Sometimes his patience is annoying. He was slouched down in the passenger's seat, staring dreamily at the trees and odd telephone poles shooting by on either side of the car. He looked half asleep, and more relaxed than he had in months.
"But I wanna be there nooow..."
Heero glared at me in the rearview mirror. He hates it when I whine. Because, and I quote: "as an adult, former Gundam pilot, and fully capable soldier of Preventers," I should "be able to remain composed and professional at all times." Hmph. "Composed," indeed. Who could stay composed when your transistor revolts and refuses to pick up any music station that isn't blaring blue grass country out of the overly saturated airwaves?
My soda and snacks were gone. I'd solved all the crossword puzzles I was able. My "out-of-state license plate" bingo sheet was filled twice over. I'd counted six hundred eighty nine semi truck trailers and given up. My Gameboy batteries were dead and my paddleball string was broken and my Ipod had fallen behind the seats. I needed out.
"Heeeroooo..." I whined. "How much loooongerrr?" He shot me the death glare and I grinned. I like to live dangerously. Anyways, he was driving. He couldn't reach me even if he wanted to.
Suddenly Quatre sat up straighter in his navigator's seat, pointing to an upcoming road sign. "Here! Heero, get off at this exit."
"Affirmative." The Hummer swung to the right and proceeded down the ramp directed by the Perfect Soldier. I pressed my face to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the town. I was to be disappointed.
"Uh, hey, Quat? There's nothing out there! Where's the town?"
"Um." He looked confused but not worried. Pulling out the map once more he gave it another look. "Well, we're definitely on the right road... just keep going, Heero. I'm sure we'll see another sign or something in a minute."
"Right." Heero, not the least bit concerned, did as he was told. He certainly never got bored driving in a dumb Hummer for hours and hours and hours and hours...
I sighed, slouching back in my seat and staring out the window. Corn to the left of me. Soybeans to the right. A field of tomatoes up ahead and a pasture full of brown and white cows across from that. Not much in the way of scenery.
We drove for a good half hour more. The asphalt grew bumpier and bumpier, obviously in disrepair. After a while it finally gave up the ghost entirely and the roads became completely paved with... dirt.
We went over a massive pothole that bounced me clean out of my seat. Wufei finished his book and sat up to get his bearings. Trowa slumbered on obliviously. I began to rhythmically beat my head against the window.
This was Hell. It had to be. At least I didn't have to go to the bathroom... no, wait... I did have to go to the bathroom.
I was ready to scream when the Hummer zipped efficiently down a steep hill and we were suddenly there. Literally, smack in the middle of town. I was a bit confused, it happened so quickly, but a second later I was plastered to the window with a happy gasp. Finally!
"We're here!" Quatre grinned after a quick check of the map. "Now we just follow Main Street through town past the sheriff's office. Sis left the keys to the house with Sheriff Hughes' secretary."
"Roger," Heero muttered unconcernedly. "Duo, quit steaming up the windows."
I couldn't help it. This town was like nothing I'd ever seen. It was like... Green Acres mixed with Andy Griffith and a large splash of Little House on the Prairie. Rolling down the window to appease the authority, I gazed at the scenery as we rolled by.
Trees and green grass were everywhere. Flower and vegetable gardens abounded. Happy dogs that were too healthy to be strays ran everywhere, completely disregarding the leash law, but no one seemed to care. Tabby cats lazed on wooden porches next to old-fashioned wooden rocking chairs.
They even had a sheriff! I couldn't keep the grin off my face. This was going to be so cool!
We rounded a gentle bend in the road and came face to face with what could best be described as a large street fair. It took all my willpower not to jump out and run for the tilt-a-whirl. Even Trowa and Wufei were gazing out their own windows in evident enjoyment.
"Okay, sheriff's office should be right across the road from the fairgrounds..." Quatre glanced up at the prominent sawhorse and yellow tape road blocks that kept traffic off a seven block stretch of Main Street. Our destination was in the thick of things. "Alright, um, let's just find someplace to park. I'll run inside and get the keys and then we can check out the fair."
Heero obligingly began to cruise for a parking spot. It was quite the challenge in its own way, almost like an obstacle course. There were people in lawn chairs literally sitting in the street, children on bikes and running barefoot every which direction, and, at one point, we were forced to slow to three miles an hour due to a little old man in a motorized chair putting along down the center of the street.
Nowhere could there be found a parking spot.
Heero began to get just a little annoyed, his brows furrowing deeply as a ratty basketball appeared from seemingly nowhere out of the milling crow and bounced off the windshield. The country music blared.
"Quatre, what is this?" Heero finally demanded as he was forced to slam on the breaks once more for a pack of screaming kids pulling brightly colored helium balloons. "This was not on the itinerary!"
Quatre shrugged apologetically. "I don't know. Sis didn't mention anything like this, I swear."
We were now on our third circle the block, and still no free spot big enough for a Hummer. Heero was frowning now, an intent look in his eyes. "Take the wheel," he finally growled as we reached a stop sign. Grabbing the information sheet from Quatre, he was out the door and making his way toward the desired location before the blonde could protest.
So there we were a moment later, circling the block once more, only this time sans Heero. Quatre took it in stride with nothing more than a deep sigh. Wufei and Trowa, ever the silent types, exchanged amused glances, probably wondering what the sheriff would have to say about Heero bursting into his office demanding the keys with no proof of association.
"Slug bug blue," I murmured as we passed a Volkswagen. Not that anyone else ever responded to the challenge.
Ten minutes later, however...
"Slug bug..." I began.
"DUO!" Quatre cried suddenly, turning to give me a frustrated glare. "We have passed that car thirty six times! You can stop saying that now!"
"No I can't," I explained patiently. "I can only stop when we start avoiding that Volkswagen. It's like, a law of the universe. When you pass one you have to yell –"
"Slug bug blue." Heero managed to push Quatre back into the passenger's seat, slam the door, and drill me in the jaw all at once. "No tag-backs."
"Where did you come from?" I moaned from the floorboards, hands over my mouth. "And more importantly where did you learn to play this game so violently!"
As usual Heero ignored me. "Here are the keys," he said, handing them to Quatre and making an altogether illegal U-turn in the same instant. I rolled across the back seat. "Apparently there is a field designated for parking behind the fairgrounds. Oh, and Mr. Sheriff Hughes would like to speak to you."
A large banner tied across the gates of the fairgrounds grandly welcomed us to the 32nd Annual Agricultural Faire and Farm Festival.
As we hung around the Hummer waiting for Quatre to return form his chat with the local authorities, I made a mental checklist. First I wanted some popcorn, and some cotton candy, and a caramel apple, and a hotdog, and one of those pastry things, an elephant ear, that I had always wanted to try but never had.
Then I wanted to ride the tilt-a-whirl, and the Scrambler, and the swings, and the Viking ship, and the Ferris wheel, and the tea cups, and the bumper cars, and maybe even the carousel if there were any cute girls taking their little brothers and sisters on it at the time.
And after that I wanted to play some games; ring toss, water balloon bull's-eye, sharpshooter, darts, and maybe win some goldfish or a stuffed animal. Not like I could do a lot with either prize, but at least I could brag.
Unfortunately, upon his return from a very enthusiastic greeting and welcome to town, Quatre had other ideas.
Apparently Sheriff Hughes was quite exuberant for a portly man and had really given Blondie the runaround. He was friendly with the sister and her family and so was curious about us, the strangers living in their house for the week. (In this place, it seemed, everybody knew everybody else's business, and that went double for the police force. One more stereotype of small-town life confirmed.)
"We maybe have time to do one thing," Quatre panted, stuffing a handful of agricultural-type brochures into the glove compartment. "We need to get to the house and feed Sis's animals. That was part of the deal, you know."
"Aww..." I pouted, but it wasn't as though we couldn't come back later. The banner advertised the celebration as lasting all week, and a large sign posted underneath showed each night's major activity and attraction.
We looked around, wondering what to do. There was lots to choose from.
"Let's go over here," Trowa said at last, and set off toward the enormous barn in the middle of the fairgrounds at a smart military pace. We followed, and minutes later found ourselves staring dumbly into the dusty, fur-filled chaos of the Livestock Exhibits and Petting Zoo.
"Oh, wow!" I squealed before I could help myself. "Animals!"
They were everywhere, every kind you could imagine and then some. Cows, horses, ponies, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, geese, peacocks and llamas... you name it, these people were showing it. And if the smell was a bit less than wonderful, well, I supposed that was one of those things you just had to deal with when it came to farm life.
An announcer over the speaker system rigged high in the rafters was barking all the fun things to do. Pony rides were being given for the kids. A dog handler and his trained Border collies would soon give a sheep herding demonstration in corral one. Later those same sheep would be sheared in ring two. A children's pedal-tractor race was being planned in an hour, and any kid that wanted to join in should report to the front table to sign up.
It was all a bit overwhelming.
"Hey, Duo, look at this!"
Quatre was leaned over the fence of the sheep pen, petting the baby lambs. They looked remarkably like the sweater Hilde had once knitted me for Christmas. White and lumpy, but still cute. The adult sheep milled around the pen looking decidedly less than happy, some shaved and some not. I sniggered. At least the shaved ones looked more comfortable; it was kinda hot there in the barn.
"Here's baby goats, too," I said, checking out the pen next to the sheep. "What're they called, again?"
"Kids," Quatre supplied, reaching in to pet them, too. A moment later he pulled his arm back with a jerk, staring in disbelief at his torn cuff. "You ate my button!"
Trowa and 'Fei had wandered down the row. Trowa was letting a baby cow suck on what looked like most of his hand, and seemed to be enjoying it. Eww... Wufei was being hassled by someone in a giant fake soy bean suit who apparently wanted to give him a hug. I could hear the yelling all the way back at the goat pens.
Laughing, I turned to see what else there was to mess with.
Heero was leaning on the fence of the horse corral looking slightly bored. I decided to meander that way.
The horses were all shapes, sizes, and colors. They had donkeys and mules, which I had the vague idea were not the same thing at all, though I couldn't quite figure out which was what. They even had some really tiny horses, about the size of a big dog. I stared at those the longest; I had no idea horses could come apartment sized!
As I was rubbing miniature horse noses and feeding mouthfuls of hay, Heero continued to lean on the fence. As he leaned, a feisty looking guy, black with white marks, came galloping up behind him. The black horse tossed his head over the gate next to Heero's shoulder and snorted into his messy mop of hair.
I opened my mouth to warn Heero that it would probably bite, but he cut me off. Turning around slowly he gave the horse one of those evil glares he has often practiced and perfected on me and a snort of his own.
The horse backed off.
Leaving the horses, I continued down the aisle. One long table was covered in wire cages, brushes, prize ribbons and cat toys. There was a big basket in front of it. "Heero, look!" I yelled, reaching into the basket. "Kittens!"
"They're show cats," the lady behind the table smiled. "Real young. Just opened their eyes a few days ago, in fact."
The one I pulled out was grey with black stripes and a little "M" mark on its forehead. It was like a dandelion fluff with a head and a tail. Meowing, it tried to shimmy up the front of my shirt. Adorable. Ignoring the tiny claw pricks I held it closer and bent my head, wondering if it would purr.
I didn't notice my braid flicking around my shoulders and swinging behind me like a pendulum, but something else did. A second later my neck was tilted back at a ninety degree angle and I was screaming my pain to the rafters with what had to be a fifteen-pound, orange-striped tom cat hanging from my hair. "EEE–YOWCH! Get it off me, get it off me!" The kitten was crawling inside my shirt collar. "Get 'em both off me!"
"Ah." Coming out from behind the table, the lady mercifully pulled the crazed beast off my back and pried my braid out of its mouth. "This," she said, folding it in her arms, "is not a show cat. This is your average, run-of-the-mill barn cat. Quite handy for keeping rats and mice out of grain and feed bins."
Whimpering, I hastily put the kitten back in the basket and gave my stinging scalp a quick massage. The evil thing was purring like an engine. Sniffling, I turned to look for Heero, pulling loose hairs out of my much-abused braid. The jerk was laughing; he'd seen the whole thing.
"I think... we should probably leave," Quatre muttered, shuffling up. He looked like he'd lost a fight. He had little pieces of straw all over him and a big smudge of dust on one cheek. His hair was messed up and one sleeve was torn off at the elbow.
Heero and I raised a brow.
Quatre blushed. "I tried to get my button away from the baby goat, and, uh, the big goats, they, uh..." He helplessly waved the bare arm. "Yeah."
Mugged by a goat. That was a little weird. Funny, but weird.
We went to round up Wufei and Trowa.
Wufei was being closely followed by a flock of baby ducklings. "Go on!" he yelled, waving them away with both hands. "Do I look like a mother duck to you? Go away!" The ducklings ignored him, scurrying after us with frantic little peep, peep, peep! noises. "Get lost, you annoying little –!"
"Wufei, is that any way to speak to your children?" I asked, shaking my head sadly. He glared, grabbing an abandoned broom propped against one booth and slowly chasing the ducks back the way we had come with the straw bristles.
Soon Trowa appeared out of the crowd carrying a brown lop-eared rabbit. He had a rooster perched on one shoulder and a bouncy little dog trotting at his heals. We all stared. He stared back.
"The rabbit I won in a drawing. The other two are just along for the fun."
It was true. As we left the barn and headed out into the early evening sunlight, the rooster took clumsy flight and the dog turned back to the open doors with one last farewell bark. Trowa waved. It's almost creepy, his way with animals.
"What are you gonna do with that rabbit?" I asked curiously. Come on. We were hundreds of miles away from home. Where would he keep it?
"Keep him, of course." Trowa looked surprised at the question. "What else?"
"Y'all could eat it, I 'spect." The short, round man leaning against Heero's Hummer had to be Sheriff Hughes. "Them rabbits is raised for it, 'round here." He nodded, as if to himself. "Yep, make mighty fine eatin'."
Trowa's one visible eye slowly widened. Holding the rabbit tighter he began to unobtrusively back away from the odd little man. "No. No... I don't think we will, thank you."
"Suit yerself." Straightening, the sheriff spit a large mouthful of chewing tobacco into the grass. I watched the distance it got with admiration. This guy was a pro. "Thought I'd drop by an' see if'n y'all need directions up t'yer sister's place. It ain't exactly the easiest place ter get to, if'n y'all know what I mean." He gave us a huge wink.
I felt my stomach plunge. What did he mean?
"Well... sure." Quatre already had directions from his sister, but I could almost see him thinking, Why not? Just to be on the safe side... "Why not. Let me just grab a pen..."
When he was ready Hughes fired away. "First yew wanna get onta the first road goin' left offa Main Street," he began.
Quatre faithfully wrote it down.
"Then yew'll wanna take the third left after that an' follow that road there fer about three miles. Then take the first right, third right, and third left. It's the third left, count 'em close cuz it's kinda hard ta see at first. Then yew wanna –"
"Uh, wait a second!" Quatre was panicking. "Could you please give me the street names or numbers instead of all the rights and lefts?"
Mr. Hughes looked at him strangely, tipping back his cowboy hat. "Wall I 'spect I could, but I'd hafta make 'em up as I went along, like. Rights 'n lefts is about all yer like ta find 'round here, son."
As Quatre frantically wrote, the rest of us swapped slightly nervous glances. It was shaping up to be a long ride...
O.O.O.O.O
We arrived at the farm just as the sun was setting. It had been unanimously decided by the entire group that Sheriff Hughes would receive a gift basket; there was no way in Hell or on Earth we would have found the place without his lefts and rights.
"I just don't understand it," Quatre was muttering as we unloaded our luggage. "How could she expect me to get here with only three sentences worth of directions? How?"
Trowa shrugged, the rabbit in one arm and his duffle bag in the other. "Dunno. Do you think they have lettuce here? I want to feed and water Thumper as soon as possible. He's dehydrated."
"Oh. Oh, sure." I could almost see Quatre shake off the puzzle of the directions as he grabbed his suitcase out of the Hummer and ascended the steps of the huge wooden veranda that wrapped around the house. We were here now, he seemed to be thinking, and that was all that really mattered.
I left off wrestling with the three huge dogs that had come bounding and barking up to the Hummer as soon as we had pulled into the dirt lane that served as the driveway. They were all really friendly, jumping up and trying to lick my face. Giving them one last pat I shouldered my backpack and followed Trowa up to the porch.
"No... get down... no... " he muttered calmly at the dogs, holding the newly christened Thumper rabbit out of their reach. They tenaciously leaped for it, determined to have bunny for an early din-din. Lucky for Thumper, Trowa is taller than the rest of us and effortlessly held him up out of harm's way.
"A-ha! Here we go..." In moments Quatre had the door open and was beckoning the rest of us inside. "Come on in, everybody."
We all crowded in. The dogs shot in before I could think to close the door, but I didn't really notice. We dropped our bags just inside the door, gazing around at what was to be our home for the week.
The place was huge! It looked even bigger than it had from outside. We were standing in the foyer; also on the first floor there was an enormous kitchen, a dining room, and a gigantic living room. A grand staircase lead to the upstairs; the kid's room, master suite, and two guest rooms. Three baths, three showers, walk-in closets, a huge pantry, and a laundry room... the place was great.
This vacation was going to be, quite simply, da bomb.
We filed upstairs and began the arduous process of claiming rooms.
One of the doors was painted a cute lilac color. "Katie's Room," a little finger-painted sign read. Quatre graciously agreed to sleep there. With twenty nine sisters and abut thirteen young nieces so far, I guess he's pretty well used to the girly atmosphere.
Trowa wound up in the master bedroom. Ignoring the rather large gun rack and the wide variety of shotguns therein, he dropped his bags and went back downstairs to see to his new pet. After dumping our stuff in the two guest rooms (one of them had twin beds, so I was sharing with Hee-chan) Wufei, Heero and I followed. It was past time for our own dinner, anyway.
Quatre had found a note on the kitchen table.
"Dear little brother and friends," he read quickly, "please make yourselves at home. You're welcome to anything in the fridge and pantry, and there's meat in the deepfreeze in the barn. If you need anything or have any questions, call me on my cell phone. Love, Sissie. P.S; the dogs are NOT allowed in the house!Check thatthe screen door latches when you go out, and be SURE to close the gates!"
Attached to the note was a list of what to feed the animals and when, how much hay to throw to the cows and how much grain to the chickens and how many scoops of dog food for the dogs. The cats in the barn could take care of themselves. Attached to that was another paper, what I assumed were the further do's and don'ts and info about the farm.
"Hm, it doesn't say anything about the parakeet or the fish... and there's a hamster in Katie's room, too," Quatre mused. "Maybe I'd better call and ask about them. Trowa, there's probably a clothes basket in the laundry room if you want to put the rabbit in it."
"I'll start dinner," Wufei volunteered with a yawn. "Soup alright? Any objections to vegetable soup?"
There weren't any. We all jumped to our allotted tasks.
Trowa held the rabbit while Heero and I found the laundry basket and lined the bottom with newspaper. Wufei found and filled the soup pot and a small bowl of water for the rabbit. Quatre, after finding that his cell got no reception, called his sister on the kitchen phone.
"...Hi, sis, it's me. Yes, we got here just fine. How was your drive? ...Really? That's too bad... yeah... yeah, rush hour can get pretty bad... Katie slept through most of it? That's good. Well, listen, I just wanted to tell you we got here alright and ask about Katie's hamster... yes... yes, and the goldfish and bird. What do we feed them?"
"Duo, why don't you get some lettuce from the fridge?" Trowa asked me. He was shredding more newspaper into long strips for the rabbit's bedding.
"And carrots and onions while you're at it," Wufei muttered over the potatoes he was peeling.
"Sure, okay." I quit holding Thumper's long lop ears up and he bounced straight into his water dish. "Lettuce, lettuce, where are you?"
I pulled open the fridge and, after a quick glance at its contents, popped open the veggie drawer. "Holy shit!"
Wufei jumped, nearly knocking the pot clean off the stove. "Maxwell, what the hell is wrong with you? I nearly cut mysel–"
"Snakes!" I screamed hysterically, scrambling back from the open drawer.
"What?"
Heero and Trowa immediately came over to investigate. It was snakes, sure enough, a writhing, wriggling ball of them nearly filling the vegetable compartment. I wanted to gag. Rotten food I can deal with, have dealt with on a semi-regular basis, but snakes?
Quatre was obviously trying not to panic. "Listen, Sis," he squeaked, moving as far from the fridge as he could, "I don't want to alarm you, but... there are snakes in your refrigerator! ...Yes! Yes, in the vegetable... what?"
Wufei raised an ebony brow as Trowa pulled one of the reptiles out of the drawer. It moved slowly like it was groggy, from the cold, I guess. Heero looked like he wanted to poke it. I shuddered.
Quatre was looking queasy. "Sis, you know that's very cruel... yes it is! It's cruel and disgusting and you shouldn't even joke like that... Oh... oh, I see... Um, alright. Uh, enjoy yourself... yes... yes, alright... talk to you later. Bye."
We all stared, waiting for an explanation.
Blondie shrugged helplessly. "Put it back, Trowa. They're supposed to be in there."
"What? Why?" Trowa demanded. "A refrigerator is far too cold for reptiles! Besides, there are way too many for such a small space, and it's obvious that they need to eat, and furthermore–"
"Belts," Quatre said faintly, hanging up the phone and slumping weakly back into his chair at the table..
"What?"
"Belts. Apparently my... brother in law... catches them and keeps them until he has enough to... make... belts." Quatre, lover of life, looked sick. Trowa, lover of animals, looked horrified.
"Better call PETA," I muttered, leaving the kitchen. Suddenly I wasn't so hungry anymore.
Apparently the others felt the same way.
Wufei dumped the hot water down the sink and put the potatoes back into the pantry. Quatre began dishing up dog food while Trowa and Heero headed out to throw whatever chickens eat to the chickens. Everyone carefully avoided the fridge. Trowa still looked mutinous, and even I agreed that the whole refrigerated belts-to-be thing was mean.
Oh, well. That could be dealt with the next morning. For now, it looked like this vacation would be even more interesting than we thought...
O.O.O.O.O
To Be Continued
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(2nd)Author's Note: Hmm... I'm still getting back into the swing of these characters, so I'm hoping the first chapter wasn't too bad. I didn't want to make Duo sound like an idiot, because he is not. Regardless, the next chapter will have more of the slightly evil comedy that I am apparently becoming known for.
Oh, and, by the by, many of the weird, farm-related circumstances that have or will befall the boys have happened to me. (I used to spend my summers with my grandparents in the heart of Tennessee.) See if you can figure out which ones they are. Thanks for reading, and hope to see you back for chapter two!