Meaning of Life Challenge.

So I got this crazy idea that I should do a music challenge. I probably don't get enough sleep, but it seems like a good idea. I got Cltc to agree to play along with me. My list is typed up and on the computer, but I will choose my songs out of the list at random.

The rules of the challenge is to use a quote from the song, the title, or follow along with how you interpret the song. We're aiming for once a week updates, but that may not hold up. Some of my one-shots may connect to each other, but they don't have to. No set pairings... maybe yaoi/yuri, hetero, or no pairing. Fluff, friendship, dark, or anything goes.

My ipod didn't get very random and hit some really weird songs. Thanks ipod... giving me something by Weird Al.

If you'd like to participate just shoot me a message and go ahead! Adhere to the rules, please, they are pretty simple.

The series is called "The Meaning of Life" because of the number 42, which we originally were using for amount of songs. So if you choose to play along, you only have to hit 42, but I have a list of 51 - by accident. I may go higher if I so choose. You can, too.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. Nope. If I did, would I be writing random silly fanfics on the internet? Maybe. Just to mess with people. But not this time, sadly.

This disclaimer stands for all one-shots in this challenge.

Yaoi if you squint? No pairing intended though, take how you will.

When I'm driving I have this obsession with hitting puddles or giant clumps of snow, Quatre always rolls his eyes and laughs at me, but his hand never leaves the "oh shit" handles. I can't help it though, I'm drawn to it, I have to do it. I like to wreck peaceful things, disrupt the calmness of a still puddle... or watch the snow turn to sludge, ruining the pure whiteness of it.

I never really understood purity, because I never really had any, I guess.

Anyway - it's one of those moments that causes Heero to turn towards me with a frown. "Must you hit everything you see?" He tries to give off an air of annoyance, but really his eyes show indifference. It's like we try to fight, sometimes, even over the petty things.

I shrug and use the end of my braid to tickle his face while shooting him my biggest grin. "I am a lazy gett, she is as pure as the cold driven snow..."

He merely raises an eyebrow before leaning back in his seat, nose twitching slightly. The look on his face passing quickly as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, but pushed it away for later study or debate. He reminds me of a robotic arm and a wall of filing cabinets, or a CD changer - paused and switched to a new CD mid-song. Just like that, the next thought is processed, stored, and easily pulled for later use. He can quote you word for word, so I've learned to sugar-coat my words around him... he usually makes me eat them and they won't taste as bad going down.

I worry about him sometimes, worry about what goes through his mind. Nobody comes out of war unscathed. I tell him this, too, but he always gives me a look. I never really understand it.

Or I choose not to. Maybe because I try to ignore what's in my own head.

Maybe.

War... death... I've been involved, I've been front row for acts too horrible to mention. It all makes me feel dirty and used... much like the snow I swerve the car into.

We slide a bit, then I pull it back on the road, glancing at Heero as he's jerked around in his seat. He's sitting calmly in the passenger seat - hunched down, arms crossed - reminds me of a kid. I can't help but smile a little at that. Talking to him proved useless - he turned the radio on immediately after, so I'm left in the silence of my own mind.

My mind. It's like a confessional booth from Hell. Flooded with sins, yet there is no one to deliver my forgiveness.

The song on the radio is a bouncy, perky number, something pop, and I find my fingers tapping along with the beat, a smile on my face.

It honestly scares me how much cheerfulness is subconsciously programmed into my expression or actions. I'm so startled by my revelation that I miss Heero speaking to me. He's giving me a look like he is expecting an answer, but I just give him another dumb grin.

I have snow to hit, after all.

I honestly hope those people don't mind the tire tracks through their yard.

"Have you thought about seeing a therapist, Heero?"

He gives me one of those looks again.

Debate.

Process.

Store.

"Did you eat lead paint as a child?" His question hits me off guard and I find myself laughing at his very un-Heero-like comment.

"Wall candy? You betcha." I do this little chompy thing at him, like a rabid squirrel, one eye squeezed closed, the other comically large.

He rolls his eyes and looks out the window, probably storing that away, too. I don't blame him, it was a bit creepy.

He gives me a look between agitation and annoyance. "I said: 'You do know this is a car and not a pony, right?'"

Another laugh from me before I catch his reflection in the glass, studying me. It's almost surreal with the snow beyond the window, the light playing off of it and I have to suppress a shudder. I can read his expression, even in the glass, and it really freaks me out.

My eyes find the road again and I refrain from hitting any more snow - I'm suddenly not in the mood to crush things.

I'm smiling again, I can't help it... I can catch my own expression in the rear-view mirror and I shudder. There is no where to hide in a car... it's almost as suffocating as my head.

Almost. Maybe.

I can feel eyes on me and I turned, glancing at him for a moment. He gives me another unreadable look or one that my mind simply refuses to process.

"Duo, have you ever considered seeing a therapist?" He leans back in his chair again as I tighten my grip on the wheel.

"I'm not crazy."

I'm not.

Song: Belle & Sebastian - "The Boy With the Arab Strap"