Basket Case
Chapter 1: Geek Stink Breath
"Mustn't… fall… asleep…"
Quatre was sitting down on the floor besides Trowa, his shoulders slumped. Even from this angle Duo could see him closing his eyes. In a very undefined way, Quatre suddenly tipped over and fell asleep soundly against Trowa. The oddly banged pilot didn't flinch or move away. He just kept staring at the old black and white movie the Gundam pilots had found in Peacemillion. All five of them had been bored out of their mind. They couldn't attack until the situation was clear.
So now, Duo and Quatre had convinced their more stoic friends to watch an old 40's movie.
Duo yawned and, lying down, stretched his legs out on the couch. Heero growled as he bumped him and forced the American's foot away. Another growl came as Duo's foot hit the back of Wufei's head and he also shoved it away.
"Hn!' Duo squeaked. /Like a bunch of old dogs. Maybe the fleas are agitating them…/ The American, his face lit by the dancing white and black from the screen, curled his legs back up under the blanket and kept to his side of the couch. For the rest of the vaguely familiar noir film, Duo couldn't help but feel eyes bearing at his. He'd always had a somewhat sharp sixth sense, at least since he had lived on the streets. Of course, whenever he looked there was no one looking.
/Oh, whatever…/
Duo turned back around just as the pretty girl kissed the handsome guy in the trench coat. For some reason he didn't blink or slightly draw away like he usually did. Don't get him wrong, Duo knew the whole sex thing, but ever since he was a kid he'd always covered his eyes and stuck out his tongue going "Blah!" It was just fun.
/And with these… party animals… around, a little fun doesn't hurt. / His violet eyes flashed at Heero for a split second. /Hell, Heero needs more fun than I do. / A smile. Devilish. /Maybe I could give him some fun. Even better than the people in the movies are doing. /
Duo had lots of fun teasing Heero in a flirtatious way. Heero, detaching himself from emotion, probably never had experienced love or much less paid attention to it, the cold thing. It made Duo laugh whenever that confused, on-the-verge-of-a-nosebleed look came across his face. Most of time anyway Duo didn't think Heero even understood the forwardness…
/Fun…. No need for fun. In the way of the mission…/
A different voice. Deeper. Flatter. And was that vulnerability?
/What the fuck?! That's not me! And it's in my head! /
/Duo? /
Duo, who had instantly snapped his eyes open once he had heard the mysterious voice, suddenly grabbed at his head as sharp reverberation cut his brain. The voice seemed to just cut off like a phone hanging up. And it left a painful wave in his mind. Not even close enough to make him scream, but enough to make him notice. The American forced his eyes open again. He was curled into the arm of the couch and nobody had noticed. At least Trowa and Wufei hadn't. And Quatre was asleep. Heero still stared ahead but seemed a bit stiffer and his eyes kind of darted around. But Duo shrugged it off.
/Well, if I know Heero, he's probably sleeping with his eyes open and dreaming he's fighting someone./
He blinked his eyes. They were a bit blurred and he couldn't really focus on the screen. But it didn't matter; he hadn't paid attention from the start.
The American groggily stood up on the couch and left for the small kitchen in the apartment-type room. It was directly behind the living room where the movie was playing so Duo could watch if he wanted. Right now a coke would solve all his problems. Not to mention keep him up. The teenager opened the fridge and welcomed the cool mist on his skin. He grabbed a can and snapped it easily open.
After a few numb swigs, he could feel the spicy, sweet taste of the pop fizzing in his mouth.
On the couch, Heero felt his skin cool then his mouth get hot and moist suddenly.
Duo jauntily leaned against the counter and watched the blurry noir film from afar. It suddenly sparked and the tape came to a rough halt. The old VCR had eaten the tape. Quatre jerked awake as the abrasive noise filled the living room.
"I told you we should have just watched Cowboy Bebop," Duo said sarcastically.
"Never!" Wufei objected. "I refuse to watch your stupid porn cartoons, Maxwell."
Duo slammed down his pop can, already finished, and snapped back. "It ain't porn! Anime is cool, Wuffie, especially the mecha stuff… Although, the outfits are a tad bit PG-13…"
"Shhh. Quatre's asleep." Trowa calmly interrupted the daily fight between the Asian and American. He gently picked up the sleeping kid, who lolled his head against his neck, and walked down the hall to their bunk beds.
Duo watched the thin pilot carry Quatre to bed, and said, "I'm beginning to question those two's 'friendship.'"
Wufei said nothing, just stood up and turned off the ancient TV set. Duo snickered as he accidentally ripped the knob off and angrily tossed it onto the couch as he passed by. "I'm going to bed, too." He glared back at Duo. "And I don't want jelly poured in my bed again, Maxwell."
"Oh, then you better clean it out first!" Duo gave his most innocent, Quatre-style smile and fluttered his short eyelashes.
The Chinese boy just threatened with another harsh look then disappeared into the dark hallway. The American began to wonder how all these people didn't step on the crushed-on-the-head coke cans he'd left by his bed. Then he smiled as he heard a yelp of pain from Wufei.
"Oi, Heero, will you watch Cowboy Bebop with me?" He sat back down on the couch with another coke and looked over to the other pilot, resting his elbows on the back of the couch. "I think this is the one where Spike runs around shooting people and getting really bloodied up. Ya hear that? Blood and guns; right up your alley."
The Japanese boy didn't answer. His fierce glare turned from the black screen to Duo and for another second, he twisted up his face a bit. Duo watched him as he took a drink of his coke. Suddenly, he reached up and tipped the end of Duo's coke until he could see the black print on the bottom and he spilled some on Duo's chin. Heero tried to ignore the wet sensation on his skin.
"This expired a month ago," Heero stated flatly. He took his hand away.
Duo wiped the pop off his chin and shook his hand dry. "So? How's a little expired pop going to stop the great Shinigami?" The American sat Indian style on the couch and took another deep swig at the coke.
Heero waited. /Ichi… Ni… San… Yon… Go…/
Duo jerked forward, with a giant spit take all over the floor. He threw the can to the floor and grabbed at his throat, feeling something vulgar scrape. There had been something lumpy in that can, definitely not pop, and he had swallowed it! Purple eyes crossed and a lurching stomach unhappy, he scrambled off the couch and was in the bathroom instantly.
Heero watched coldly as his comrade left and turned his head slightly as the light from the bathroom flooded the murky room. The door shut and it was murky again. He did flinch though when he heard the noises Maxwell was making. "Serves him right," Heero commented and stood up from the couch. He was just picking up the can when a vulgar, stinging taste came clawing at his throat. He paused, then realized. With a quick clamp over his mouth, Heero dashed into the kitchen. His stomach lurched and screamed in disgust, even though he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Heero leaned over the sink and… well, saw his breakfast again.
After Duo's coughing and puking fit, he still felt awful. He hoped he never find out exactly what he'd just downed, cuz it still tasted funny in his stomach. He flushed the toilet and took his glass from the medicine cabinet and washed his mouth out several times. /Gawd…/ he thought to himself. /All the Orbit free gum in the Western Hemisphere couldn't get rid of this taste…Got to remember to sue Coca-Cola for this…/
The American spit out the last bit of water and bad taste he could and washed out the cup before returning it to the cabinet. He flicked off the lights and scratched his hip as he returned to the living room. He blinked a few times before noticing Heero wasn't on the couch. Not noticing the faint background noise, he picked up his thrown pop can and dried the floor a little with his foot.
"Guess Hee-chan went to bed," Duo said nonchalantly.
"Don't… call me that…"
"Heero?" Duo turned around and saw the thin boy hunched over the sink and his abdomen lurching crazily. The American rushed over to him and put his hand on Heero's shoulder. "Jeeze, what happened bud? Oh man, that's nasty." Duo looked to Heero, who still looked sick, almost as sick as if he had eaten the bad coke. He put his arm around his shoulder and led the sick pilot back to the couch. Heero, who had probably never been sick in his life or thrown up for that matter, coughed and gagged on the bad taste.
Duo sat him down and ran to get Heero's glass from the medicine cabinet.
Heero slumped over into himself, curling into his still convulsing stomach. He didn't like it, the way he tasted. His breath even stuck himself hard. The pilot, Prussian eyes a bit dazed, lay down on the couch and pondered why the hell he had thrown up.
"Come on, Yuy, up." Duo's voice was firm and reminded Heero of a mother when he returned, glass of water in hand. "I'm not going to hand feed you this like Quatre." Obediently, he sat up.
Duo handed the glass of water to Heero, who turned away to drink it. Suddenly, he felt Duo's hand on his forehead and jerked away. Water tipped over the lip and a dark blot appeared on his green tank.
"Chill out, Heero! I was just checking your temperature," Duo said protectively, with a little laugh as Heero gave the expression of a stubborn two-year-old. "Sit still Toddler. I just wanna make sure you don't have the flu or something."
"I'm not sick." Heero glared at the American who sat on the other side of the couch. He took the glass and finished it.
"Then why did you throw up?" Duo inquired sincerely, taking the empty glass back.
Heero didn't answer. He stared at the stain on his tank and then folded his arms over it.
Duo smiled. /Who says the Perfect Soldier's all grown up? /
The American moved closer on the couch and offered his blanket. "I'm sorry," he apologized as the soldier took the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. "I probably should have warned you I was going to do it. Just let me check, 'Kay?"
Heero didn't move. "Fine," he grumbled.
Habitually biting his tongue, Duo put his hand under Heero's wild bangs and tested the warmth of his skin. The soldier flinched, automatically getting a signal from his subconscious to break Duo's arm in three places. /Can't do that…/ he knew. /He's just helping. Besides, he's a comrade and is needed if we get called to our posts./
Duo moved his hand around a little, putting his knuckles against his temple as well. "Hmm," he murmured, taking his hand away.
"Nani?"
"Well, you're fine like always," Duo said with a bit of confusion. He was no doctor but it still seemed weird. Heero was normal temperature. It was even weirder that they had made some Technicolor yawns at the same time. "Bah, I don't get it."
Heero obviously felt guilty as Duo stood up to wash out the sink. He sunk deeper in to the blanket, ashamed of committing such a weak, human action. Duo noticed and winked one eye sheepishly. "Don't worry," he reassured him. "It's only human to get sick once in a while. Hey, whatever doesn't kill ya only makes you stronger, Soldier."
"But I'm perfect. Nothing like this is supposed to happen." Heero tried to squeeze out the wetness from his shirt.
"A little tough on ourselves, aren't we?" Duo called from the kitchen. The American winced at the sight of what was left of breakfast. Luckily, it was mostly water. Duo knew how strict Dr. J was on Heero's diet and he couldn't remember Heero ever eating very much. Maybe he was anorexic.
When Duo went back to the couch, his comrade had fallen asleep already. Duo tilted his head and frowned when he saw that he had kicked off the blanket and had his head on the armrest.
/That kid's really rough on himself, isn't he? He would sleep on nails someone said so. /
The American watched Heero's chest rise and fall, and occasionally, his abdomen twitch. Then as he moved his eyes down, saw his untied shoes were still on his feet. Like a mother, he sighed then gently slipped them off and put them to the side of the couch. Heero's toes curled up instantly and he murmured in his sleep. Duo wickedly smiled and had to resist the temptation to paint his toenails the colors of the rainbow. He decided that Hee-chan had been through enough and put the blanket back on him.
Duo strolled back to the bathroom, washed and put away Heero's glass and went to his own bunk for the night.
Heero's eyes snapped open and he sat back up. He'd been awake the entire time.
Relena bit her lip and turned at the wall to make another round of pacing. Her eyes locked on the door, then the phone, and then the piece of paper beside it. Systematically, she checked the mail, the e-mail, and beeper, anything that could be used for communicating. She was getting worried. She flipped her ponytail behind her, which she had been combing with her fingers as she paced.
"Why hasn't he said anything?" she whispered to herself. "Didn't it work? Did he get called to battle? Does he hate me? Did he get killed?"
In her pacing, Relena had neglected to look at the clock, and when she finally did look, it was well past midnight. The blonde only bit her lip again, but she soon stopped. "He must be asleep."
She sat down beside her phone again and impatiently ran her dainty finger along the screen, tapping with her newly done nails. Worry balled up in her throat, like a cockaburra stuck to a dog's fur. Her aqua-bluish eyes darted down to the notepad. In her finely written cursive, she had a phone number written down. Fury came and replaced the worry.
What if that woman's spell hadn't worked? What if she was just a fraud? After all, Paegan had warned her of gypsy ladies, respectfully declaring them all non-sense. But she just couldn't resist… It must have worked! It must have!
/Maybe he's too shy… or, what if the spell wasn't strong enough?/
Relena Darlian couldn't wait any longer. She wanted a phone call, a romantic letter, a sweet little message, two strong arms around her, anything and everything! And she wanted it now.
The blonde tapped her fingers along the keyboard and decided to retry that voodoo.
----
oooooh, relena-bitch has plans.... 0;) see that's an angel face. I don't know how to make a devil face yet }: ) hey, there's one!
Please review people! I'm not asking for like 6 billion reviews! Just tell me what you want and I give it. Well, maybe not everything, but I don't have a lot planned for this fic... I could go 3x4 or 4x3, whatever hits your buttons, a little more... I think I'm gonna rate this R so I get enough requests for yaoi, I'll have room to write. ^__^ Kudasai, shai mochi desu! (Did I say that right? Aw crap, forgot how to do particles...) Anyway, please tell me what you think! I don't know where I'm going with this...
I've decided to post the lyrics of the song that's the chapter title.
I'm on a mission
I made my decision
To lead a path of self destruction
A slow progression
Killing my complexion
And it's rotting out my teeth
I'm on a roll
No self comtrol
I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine
Don't know what I want
That's all that I've got
And I'm picking scabs off my face
Every hour my blood is turning sour
And my pulse is beating out of time
I found a treasure
filled with sick pleasure
And it sits on a thin white line
I'm on a roll
No self comtrol
I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine
Don't know what I want
That's all that I've got
And I'm picking scabs off my face
I'm on a mission
I got no decision
Like a cripple running the rat race
Wish in one hand shit in the other
And see which one gets filled first
I'm on a roll
No self comtrol
I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine
Don't know what I want
That's all that I've got
And I'm picking scabs off my face
Chapter 1: Geek Stink Breath
"Mustn't… fall… asleep…"
Quatre was sitting down on the floor besides Trowa, his shoulders slumped. Even from this angle Duo could see him closing his eyes. In a very undefined way, Quatre suddenly tipped over and fell asleep soundly against Trowa. The oddly banged pilot didn't flinch or move away. He just kept staring at the old black and white movie the Gundam pilots had found in Peacemillion. All five of them had been bored out of their mind. They couldn't attack until the situation was clear.
So now, Duo and Quatre had convinced their more stoic friends to watch an old 40's movie.
Duo yawned and, lying down, stretched his legs out on the couch. Heero growled as he bumped him and forced the American's foot away. Another growl came as Duo's foot hit the back of Wufei's head and he also shoved it away.
"Hn!' Duo squeaked. /Like a bunch of old dogs. Maybe the fleas are agitating them…/ The American, his face lit by the dancing white and black from the screen, curled his legs back up under the blanket and kept to his side of the couch. For the rest of the vaguely familiar noir film, Duo couldn't help but feel eyes bearing at his. He'd always had a somewhat sharp sixth sense, at least since he had lived on the streets. Of course, whenever he looked there was no one looking.
/Oh, whatever…/
Duo turned back around just as the pretty girl kissed the handsome guy in the trench coat. For some reason he didn't blink or slightly draw away like he usually did. Don't get him wrong, Duo knew the whole sex thing, but ever since he was a kid he'd always covered his eyes and stuck out his tongue going "Blah!" It was just fun.
/And with these… party animals… around, a little fun doesn't hurt. / His violet eyes flashed at Heero for a split second. /Hell, Heero needs more fun than I do. / A smile. Devilish. /Maybe I could give him some fun. Even better than the people in the movies are doing. /
Duo had lots of fun teasing Heero in a flirtatious way. Heero, detaching himself from emotion, probably never had experienced love or much less paid attention to it, the cold thing. It made Duo laugh whenever that confused, on-the-verge-of-a-nosebleed look came across his face. Most of time anyway Duo didn't think Heero even understood the forwardness…
/Fun…. No need for fun. In the way of the mission…/
A different voice. Deeper. Flatter. And was that vulnerability?
/What the fuck?! That's not me! And it's in my head! /
/Duo? /
Duo, who had instantly snapped his eyes open once he had heard the mysterious voice, suddenly grabbed at his head as sharp reverberation cut his brain. The voice seemed to just cut off like a phone hanging up. And it left a painful wave in his mind. Not even close enough to make him scream, but enough to make him notice. The American forced his eyes open again. He was curled into the arm of the couch and nobody had noticed. At least Trowa and Wufei hadn't. And Quatre was asleep. Heero still stared ahead but seemed a bit stiffer and his eyes kind of darted around. But Duo shrugged it off.
/Well, if I know Heero, he's probably sleeping with his eyes open and dreaming he's fighting someone./
He blinked his eyes. They were a bit blurred and he couldn't really focus on the screen. But it didn't matter; he hadn't paid attention from the start.
The American groggily stood up on the couch and left for the small kitchen in the apartment-type room. It was directly behind the living room where the movie was playing so Duo could watch if he wanted. Right now a coke would solve all his problems. Not to mention keep him up. The teenager opened the fridge and welcomed the cool mist on his skin. He grabbed a can and snapped it easily open.
After a few numb swigs, he could feel the spicy, sweet taste of the pop fizzing in his mouth.
On the couch, Heero felt his skin cool then his mouth get hot and moist suddenly.
Duo jauntily leaned against the counter and watched the blurry noir film from afar. It suddenly sparked and the tape came to a rough halt. The old VCR had eaten the tape. Quatre jerked awake as the abrasive noise filled the living room.
"I told you we should have just watched Cowboy Bebop," Duo said sarcastically.
"Never!" Wufei objected. "I refuse to watch your stupid porn cartoons, Maxwell."
Duo slammed down his pop can, already finished, and snapped back. "It ain't porn! Anime is cool, Wuffie, especially the mecha stuff… Although, the outfits are a tad bit PG-13…"
"Shhh. Quatre's asleep." Trowa calmly interrupted the daily fight between the Asian and American. He gently picked up the sleeping kid, who lolled his head against his neck, and walked down the hall to their bunk beds.
Duo watched the thin pilot carry Quatre to bed, and said, "I'm beginning to question those two's 'friendship.'"
Wufei said nothing, just stood up and turned off the ancient TV set. Duo snickered as he accidentally ripped the knob off and angrily tossed it onto the couch as he passed by. "I'm going to bed, too." He glared back at Duo. "And I don't want jelly poured in my bed again, Maxwell."
"Oh, then you better clean it out first!" Duo gave his most innocent, Quatre-style smile and fluttered his short eyelashes.
The Chinese boy just threatened with another harsh look then disappeared into the dark hallway. The American began to wonder how all these people didn't step on the crushed-on-the-head coke cans he'd left by his bed. Then he smiled as he heard a yelp of pain from Wufei.
"Oi, Heero, will you watch Cowboy Bebop with me?" He sat back down on the couch with another coke and looked over to the other pilot, resting his elbows on the back of the couch. "I think this is the one where Spike runs around shooting people and getting really bloodied up. Ya hear that? Blood and guns; right up your alley."
The Japanese boy didn't answer. His fierce glare turned from the black screen to Duo and for another second, he twisted up his face a bit. Duo watched him as he took a drink of his coke. Suddenly, he reached up and tipped the end of Duo's coke until he could see the black print on the bottom and he spilled some on Duo's chin. Heero tried to ignore the wet sensation on his skin.
"This expired a month ago," Heero stated flatly. He took his hand away.
Duo wiped the pop off his chin and shook his hand dry. "So? How's a little expired pop going to stop the great Shinigami?" The American sat Indian style on the couch and took another deep swig at the coke.
Heero waited. /Ichi… Ni… San… Yon… Go…/
Duo jerked forward, with a giant spit take all over the floor. He threw the can to the floor and grabbed at his throat, feeling something vulgar scrape. There had been something lumpy in that can, definitely not pop, and he had swallowed it! Purple eyes crossed and a lurching stomach unhappy, he scrambled off the couch and was in the bathroom instantly.
Heero watched coldly as his comrade left and turned his head slightly as the light from the bathroom flooded the murky room. The door shut and it was murky again. He did flinch though when he heard the noises Maxwell was making. "Serves him right," Heero commented and stood up from the couch. He was just picking up the can when a vulgar, stinging taste came clawing at his throat. He paused, then realized. With a quick clamp over his mouth, Heero dashed into the kitchen. His stomach lurched and screamed in disgust, even though he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Heero leaned over the sink and… well, saw his breakfast again.
After Duo's coughing and puking fit, he still felt awful. He hoped he never find out exactly what he'd just downed, cuz it still tasted funny in his stomach. He flushed the toilet and took his glass from the medicine cabinet and washed his mouth out several times. /Gawd…/ he thought to himself. /All the Orbit free gum in the Western Hemisphere couldn't get rid of this taste…Got to remember to sue Coca-Cola for this…/
The American spit out the last bit of water and bad taste he could and washed out the cup before returning it to the cabinet. He flicked off the lights and scratched his hip as he returned to the living room. He blinked a few times before noticing Heero wasn't on the couch. Not noticing the faint background noise, he picked up his thrown pop can and dried the floor a little with his foot.
"Guess Hee-chan went to bed," Duo said nonchalantly.
"Don't… call me that…"
"Heero?" Duo turned around and saw the thin boy hunched over the sink and his abdomen lurching crazily. The American rushed over to him and put his hand on Heero's shoulder. "Jeeze, what happened bud? Oh man, that's nasty." Duo looked to Heero, who still looked sick, almost as sick as if he had eaten the bad coke. He put his arm around his shoulder and led the sick pilot back to the couch. Heero, who had probably never been sick in his life or thrown up for that matter, coughed and gagged on the bad taste.
Duo sat him down and ran to get Heero's glass from the medicine cabinet.
Heero slumped over into himself, curling into his still convulsing stomach. He didn't like it, the way he tasted. His breath even stuck himself hard. The pilot, Prussian eyes a bit dazed, lay down on the couch and pondered why the hell he had thrown up.
"Come on, Yuy, up." Duo's voice was firm and reminded Heero of a mother when he returned, glass of water in hand. "I'm not going to hand feed you this like Quatre." Obediently, he sat up.
Duo handed the glass of water to Heero, who turned away to drink it. Suddenly, he felt Duo's hand on his forehead and jerked away. Water tipped over the lip and a dark blot appeared on his green tank.
"Chill out, Heero! I was just checking your temperature," Duo said protectively, with a little laugh as Heero gave the expression of a stubborn two-year-old. "Sit still Toddler. I just wanna make sure you don't have the flu or something."
"I'm not sick." Heero glared at the American who sat on the other side of the couch. He took the glass and finished it.
"Then why did you throw up?" Duo inquired sincerely, taking the empty glass back.
Heero didn't answer. He stared at the stain on his tank and then folded his arms over it.
Duo smiled. /Who says the Perfect Soldier's all grown up? /
The American moved closer on the couch and offered his blanket. "I'm sorry," he apologized as the soldier took the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. "I probably should have warned you I was going to do it. Just let me check, 'Kay?"
Heero didn't move. "Fine," he grumbled.
Habitually biting his tongue, Duo put his hand under Heero's wild bangs and tested the warmth of his skin. The soldier flinched, automatically getting a signal from his subconscious to break Duo's arm in three places. /Can't do that…/ he knew. /He's just helping. Besides, he's a comrade and is needed if we get called to our posts./
Duo moved his hand around a little, putting his knuckles against his temple as well. "Hmm," he murmured, taking his hand away.
"Nani?"
"Well, you're fine like always," Duo said with a bit of confusion. He was no doctor but it still seemed weird. Heero was normal temperature. It was even weirder that they had made some Technicolor yawns at the same time. "Bah, I don't get it."
Heero obviously felt guilty as Duo stood up to wash out the sink. He sunk deeper in to the blanket, ashamed of committing such a weak, human action. Duo noticed and winked one eye sheepishly. "Don't worry," he reassured him. "It's only human to get sick once in a while. Hey, whatever doesn't kill ya only makes you stronger, Soldier."
"But I'm perfect. Nothing like this is supposed to happen." Heero tried to squeeze out the wetness from his shirt.
"A little tough on ourselves, aren't we?" Duo called from the kitchen. The American winced at the sight of what was left of breakfast. Luckily, it was mostly water. Duo knew how strict Dr. J was on Heero's diet and he couldn't remember Heero ever eating very much. Maybe he was anorexic.
When Duo went back to the couch, his comrade had fallen asleep already. Duo tilted his head and frowned when he saw that he had kicked off the blanket and had his head on the armrest.
/That kid's really rough on himself, isn't he? He would sleep on nails someone said so. /
The American watched Heero's chest rise and fall, and occasionally, his abdomen twitch. Then as he moved his eyes down, saw his untied shoes were still on his feet. Like a mother, he sighed then gently slipped them off and put them to the side of the couch. Heero's toes curled up instantly and he murmured in his sleep. Duo wickedly smiled and had to resist the temptation to paint his toenails the colors of the rainbow. He decided that Hee-chan had been through enough and put the blanket back on him.
Duo strolled back to the bathroom, washed and put away Heero's glass and went to his own bunk for the night.
Heero's eyes snapped open and he sat back up. He'd been awake the entire time.
Relena bit her lip and turned at the wall to make another round of pacing. Her eyes locked on the door, then the phone, and then the piece of paper beside it. Systematically, she checked the mail, the e-mail, and beeper, anything that could be used for communicating. She was getting worried. She flipped her ponytail behind her, which she had been combing with her fingers as she paced.
"Why hasn't he said anything?" she whispered to herself. "Didn't it work? Did he get called to battle? Does he hate me? Did he get killed?"
In her pacing, Relena had neglected to look at the clock, and when she finally did look, it was well past midnight. The blonde only bit her lip again, but she soon stopped. "He must be asleep."
She sat down beside her phone again and impatiently ran her dainty finger along the screen, tapping with her newly done nails. Worry balled up in her throat, like a cockaburra stuck to a dog's fur. Her aqua-bluish eyes darted down to the notepad. In her finely written cursive, she had a phone number written down. Fury came and replaced the worry.
What if that woman's spell hadn't worked? What if she was just a fraud? After all, Paegan had warned her of gypsy ladies, respectfully declaring them all non-sense. But she just couldn't resist… It must have worked! It must have!
/Maybe he's too shy… or, what if the spell wasn't strong enough?/
Relena Darlian couldn't wait any longer. She wanted a phone call, a romantic letter, a sweet little message, two strong arms around her, anything and everything! And she wanted it now.
The blonde tapped her fingers along the keyboard and decided to retry that voodoo.
----
oooooh, relena-bitch has plans.... 0;) see that's an angel face. I don't know how to make a devil face yet }: ) hey, there's one!
Please review people! I'm not asking for like 6 billion reviews! Just tell me what you want and I give it. Well, maybe not everything, but I don't have a lot planned for this fic... I could go 3x4 or 4x3, whatever hits your buttons, a little more... I think I'm gonna rate this R so I get enough requests for yaoi, I'll have room to write. ^__^ Kudasai, shai mochi desu! (Did I say that right? Aw crap, forgot how to do particles...) Anyway, please tell me what you think! I don't know where I'm going with this...
I've decided to post the lyrics of the song that's the chapter title.
I'm on a mission
I made my decision
To lead a path of self destruction
A slow progression
Killing my complexion
And it's rotting out my teeth
I'm on a roll
No self comtrol
I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine
Don't know what I want
That's all that I've got
And I'm picking scabs off my face
Every hour my blood is turning sour
And my pulse is beating out of time
I found a treasure
filled with sick pleasure
And it sits on a thin white line
I'm on a roll
No self comtrol
I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine
Don't know what I want
That's all that I've got
And I'm picking scabs off my face
I'm on a mission
I got no decision
Like a cripple running the rat race
Wish in one hand shit in the other
And see which one gets filled first
I'm on a roll
No self comtrol
I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine
Don't know what I want
That's all that I've got
And I'm picking scabs off my face