Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

Long Note: Hello, everyone. You may be surprised to learn that I'm not dead, and I haven't quite given up on this fic! I probably should, but oh well. Anyway, I started to read over what I'd written and felt so utterly embarrassed . . . Yeah, so I thought it was bad, and if I ever were to continue with this, I'd actually have to start over and do things correctly this time. Thank you all so, so, so much for reviewing the previous version. You have no idea how much your thoughts and comments all meant to me, how much I appreciated them . . . So thank you!

Anyway, I've totally started over and wrote a brand new chapter one, which I hope everyone will like. I just, uh, graduated on May 25, and it's kind of weird now, writing about this. I got this idea in mysecond year of marching band, and that was freshman year . . . A lot of things have changed for me since then, obviously. I've (hopefully) matured and have gotten better at writing. My style has definitely changed. It still shifts around sometimes, depending on what I'm writing, so please bear with me. However, the thing that affects this story the most, I think, would be my attitude towards band in general.

I'm not sure how often I'll update this, work on this, or even think about this, but you know, I will try. Gosh, I haven't even read a GW fic in at least a year -- it's crazy. I think I'll have to start watching the series again, just to get a better feel for the characters, or read fics to get back in touch with "fanon."

So new, informal (and unattractive) summary: Basically, Heero Yuy, a cold, stoic kid born into a wealthy family will do just about anything to convince Relena, his childhood friend, that Duo Maxwell, this supposedly notorious and quite charismatic player, is bad news. He went as far as to join the high school marching band. However, when he meets Duo and comes to know him, he realizes that he didn't really know anything about him at all . . .

This will be at least mildly angst-y, of the teenaged, high school drama flavor, but I'd say it's mostly light-hearted at this point. Expect 1+2+1, 3+4+3, some 5+R, a very limited amount of 1+R and 2+R, and other mild hints. Be warned about the band geekness this fic will exude . . . And keeping in mind that this is very, very AU, the characters will not act like fifteen-year-old terrorists. They have had different life experiences. Reviews would be awesome. Now, onward!

The Ladies' Man

Chapter I

It was the first day of marching band – and Heero Yuy had already fallen in hate. Dread coiled tightly in his stomach as he smoothly pulled into an empty parking spot precisely thirty minutes prior to the beginning of practice. Despite however much he wanted to remain in his vehicle, Heero swiftly turned off the ignition, extracted his key, and climbed out from the black Jeep. It wasn't his style to hesitate.

Closing the driver's door with a quiet click, he walked purposefully towards the back of the car and removed his instrument from the back seat. As he moved to shut the door, he heard a group of freshman girls giggling as they gossiped and barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. After locking the car, Heero made his way towards entrance seven, trumpet case in hand. As he pushed through the doors into the high school, he pondered how different the school seemed then – empty, devoid of the overly congesting crowds. Everything rested in peculiar quiet . . . Something to which he had grown accustomed when he had extracurricular activities, early morning A.P. cram sessions, and study halls spent practicing his trumpet over the course of the past three years . . . The sense of foreboding that gripped him now, however, seemed novel and most unwelcome. He didn't feel afraid, really – only apprehensive – already convinced about the degree to which he'd hate this.

Once again, Heero wondered if it were worth it to go to such extreme lengths, to pay three hundred dollars and somany hours of his time, just for a chance to convince Relena that Duo Maxwell was bad news . . . He was, of course, and he had everyone under his spell. Though he wouldn't admit it yet, he also felt a twinge of curiosity towards the guy about whom he knew relatively little, with whom he shared common friends.

Quatre had tried for years to convince Heero to join marching band. Trowa prodded him gently, as well, though Wufei had only added his support once. However, Heero had firmly resisted, retorting that while he may enjoy concert band, he would never partake in such a band-geek-y activity. Until this year, he smirked, when he surprised them all by offhandedly announcing his commitment to the marching band. Bailey and Hedrick, the directors, had been ecstatic, albeit bewildered, when Heero wordlessly handed in his form; after all he'd never participated in any band extracurricular activities, save solo and ensemble, if that even counted.

When Quatre cautiously questioned his motives, Heero promptly and flatly informed them of the truth. The others couldn't quite believe his irrational train of thought and nearly tried to talk him out of it, but in the end, he supposed, Quatre convinced Trowa and Wufei that things would work out after Heero joined. Still, they attempted to dissuade him from his judgment of Duo's character. His conviction wavered enough, too, enough for him to admit that maybe he should find out for himself. Whether Duo was genuinely a bad person or not, however, Heero had sufficiently witnessed his shameless, almost indiscriminate flirting to feel wary and protective of his childhood friend. In any case, he reasoned, this way he'd be there and would have more reason to interfere.

His ears picked up another person's footsteps behind him, and he tensed, wondering if it were Duo Maxwell, until a voice broke the relative quiet. "Hey, Heero!"

Pausing briefly, Heero relaxed and waited, "Hello, Mr. Bailey," he greeted politely, a small smile quirking his lips.

"You excited?" The middle-aged man grinned widely at him, predictably upbeat.

Heero chuckled once, not wanting to deceive his director. "Apprehensive, actually," he decided after a moment.

Bailey let loose a merry laugh, eyes crinkling in mirth. "Apprehensive?" he asked with mock alarm and shock. "You should be excited! Come on, Heero! Oh, man, Heero . . . can't tell you how happy we are that you're with us this year . . ." he spoke sincerely, warmly smiling. "Oh! It's just going to be awesome!"

Laughing shortly but politely, Heero nodded, infected by Bailey's wealth of optimism and enthusiasm; he'd always been one of Heero's favorite teachers. "Yeah," he agreed reluctantly.

"Hey, have you seen the music yet?"

"No," Heero replied, "I couldn't come to the wind camps."

"Oh," Bailey considered his answer for a moment before shrugging and continuing. "Well, Heero, you'll be happy to know that we're really featuring the brass this year, especially the trumpets! There's going to be a really big solo, and you should definitely audition for it."

"Right. Definitely," he echoed, as Bailey slapped him heartily on the back.

"That's great! Oh, it's going to be awesome! Hey, well, you're really going to enjoy marching band," he spoke sincerely, as they came to a stop in front of his office. "It's going to be a lot of hard work – but it's more than worth it."

"So I've heard," Heero murmured.

Bailey grinned widely, "Yeah! Well, I'll see you at practice, Heero."

The trumpet player nodded in acknowledgement before walking purposefully towards the band locker room. He had not yet received his new locker assignment for the upcoming year, so he placed his affairs next to his old one. While unzipping his case, Quatre cheerfully and enthusiastically greeted him.

"Hey, Heero! You're here early, as expected," the drum major beamed.

"Hello, Quatre," he replied, returning his smile briefly. "Is Trowa here yet?"

"Oh, when is he not around Quatre?" Chloe piped in, flouncing through the doors from the band room. She smirked when she saw Quatre flush slightly. "Hey, Heero!"

Irritated by her forward friendliness, Heero merely grunted in acknowledgement, fitting his mouthpiece into his horn, twisting it once firmly.

"She's right, you know!" Heero tensed automatically, coolly regarding the infamous Duo Maxwell, who skidded to a halt next to Chloe. He wore a well-fitting red T-shirt and loose, red athletic shorts, a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses perched atop his head, pushing up against his jagged bangs. Tossed casually across his right shoulder, that famous chestnut braid gleamed softly in the low lighting, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. He was grinning widely, blue-violet eyes shimmering with mischief about which Heero was sure he didn't want to know. He was good-looking – flawless skin, heart-shaped face, upturned nose,well-shaped lips, and that hair – Heero admitted to himself, frowning. Thick lashes framed his eyes; they were large and beautiful with openness and honesty, and their unique color only added to their allure. And he understood why everyone felt so drawn to him. His frown deepened considerably when Duo casually slung an arm across her shoulders, dark blue eyes flashing dangerously. He noted Quatre's sudden nervousness but chose to ignore it.

"Hn," he grunted, flicking hisgaze away. Picking up his trumpet, he smoothly rose, a bit more comfortable now that they stood at relatively the same height.

"Hey, Heero," Duo smiled easily, extending his hand in greeting. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Duo Maxwell."

"So I've heard," he muttered softly, warily eyeing the outstretched hand. Quatre coughed lightly,prodding Heero into accepting his firm shake, which he did. "Heero Yuy," he introduced himself without fanfare, eyes still trained critically on his supposed opponent. Only, the other had yet to know this. He dropped his hand.

"At last we meet . . ." Duo drawled in jest, swaggering a step closer to the other boy, enough to make him flinch in discomfort. If the trombonist had noticed, he showed no indication or interest, for which Heero felt thankful.

"Hn," he repeated firmly, which only earned a laugh from rest. Once again, his frown deepened. It would be a long season. It would be a long year.

So what did you think? Better? Worse? No idea? It was a pretty short chapter, and I tend to get longer, as I delve more into the story. We shall see. To be honest, I don't know how far I'll go with this, and I don't know how often I'll update, but if you still feel like sticking around, I'll do my best! Review, please, if you'd like. I'd really appreciate it!