Author's Note: I have returned once more. If you were anticipating an action fic like my last several ones, I'm afraid you're going to be a bit diappointed, however, I have always wanted to do an AU fic and now I have produced this baby. I know, I know, the plot devise for this fic has been done to death and beyond but to those that know my work, it's not going to be like the typical ones. Yes, this has a plot, one that will be revealed slowly over time and at my leisure. Anyway, I welcome you back, my faithful readers, and I invite some of you newbies to sit down and enjoy this fic. It's going to be a long one, longer than all my others according to my calculations so no need to worry about seeing an ending...yet. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Warning: Slight language

Both Sides of the Tracks

Another Day in the Life of Duo Maxwell

Raberba Bahjir Winner frowned slightly as he listened to his younger brother, Ezekiel Bahjir Winner explained to him about the latest news concerning his son. Out of all the Winner children, Ezekiel was perhaps the most western-influenced, his name signifying their father's, Bahjir Zawnal Winner, gesture to embracing the outside world's culture. But then, that hadn't made sense since they lived in one of those western societies anyway.

But that was neither here nor there, Ezekiel was explaining the latest stunt that his son (what was his name again? It was something western sounding) had been involved with. Compared to the other Winner children, this one was quite the black sheep.

He had to count his blessings, that despite having twenty-nine daughters, his son, Quatre Raberba Winner, was in no way shape or form that bad. But whatever his nephew was doing, it was wearing down his younger brother down to the point that he had to do something. Perhaps a change in scenery might help.

"Why don't you send him to stay with me?" he proposed. "Perhaps he needs to get away from it all and what better way to do it than to send him to another location? If anything, I think Quatre and the girls could probably temper him down."

"You think so?" Ezekiel asked, brightening visibly.

"It's worth a try," Raberba answered. "If worst comes to worst, we'll take away the netting that he is so used to falling back on. He's going to learn, one way or another. First thing tomorrow, I'll start the preparations to send him to my son's public school."

"You're a life saver, Raberba," Ezekiel said. "I don't know how to repay you for this…"

"Don't worry about it," Raberba waved the matter away. "You're my brother. How could I not?"

Giving their farewells, Raberba hung up and silently began to contemplate the matter at hand. This nephew of his needed to shape up and shape up quickly. He was a Winner. What light reflected on one reflected on all.

This would be the boy's last chance.

---

Welcome to yet another day in the life of Duo Maxwell.

Said teen sighed as he walked within the domain of the building which housed the school he attended. A place he despised just like any other teen his age. However, he wasn't one of the popular kids, one of the jocks, or one of the preps. He was an outsider.

Fortunately for him, he was in a limbo of sorts. He was one of the few people who wasn't picked on. Sure, he had all the things that would attract bullies and taunts like a magnet. He was short, had long chestnut hair that he kept in a braid, wore black most of the time. But he would be damned if anyone called him a Goth or an emo. He would never stoop so low.

But just because he wasn't picked on didn't mean his life was utterly perfect. No, instead, he was ignored. Duo was a social person and needed interaction with other human beings to thrive. Fortunately, he had such a person to communicate with on a daily basis.

Closing his locker and turning his violet eyes, he came face to…neck with that person.

Quatre Winner, or Quatre Raberba Winner if he was to be formally introduced.

He was everything that people wanted and respected. Rich, handsome, built like an athlete and participated in such activities, tall, smart, charismatic… Hell, there wasn't a bad thing you could say about him that wasn't perfect. Except for the fact that he giggled liked a girl when you touched the small of his back just right…

And no, he didn't learn that the way you are thinking. He does spend the night at Quatre's often enough and boys being boys ended up wrestling with each other. And why didn't that sound right either? He'd think about it later, now was the time to socialize.

"Hey Duo!" the blond haired, blue-eyed youth greeted.

"How ya keeping up, Quat?" Duo greeted back.

"Eh, same old, same old," Quatre answered, lounging up against the lockers.

"Still missing Trowa? You guys are usually attached at the hip," Duo asked, before mischievously adding, "or should I say lips?"

Quatre chuckled. "Just because he got sick over the weekend doesn't mean you get to make fun of him behind his back. He should be back tomorrow though."

"Guess it looks like it's just you and me now," Duo commented. "If you need to relieve some tension, there's a restroom just right over there…"

"Duo, you're impossible!" Quatre laughed, slinging an arm around Duo's shoulders. "But you know, I'd be top."

"Hey, just because you're taller doesn't mean you get to be top," Duo retorted as they began to walk to class.

The good natured jesting was always the highlight of his day. No one else seemed to dare to be like this with Quatre but then again, he was literally the richest kid in the school. Hmm, now there was a thought. Perhaps a reason why he wasn't picked on was because he was friends with Quatre? If the rumors were true, the last time someone had upset Quatre, the kid had to move to another country to continue their education.

Reaching their class long before the bell was due, Duo made himself as comfortable as possible in the ever uncomfortable desks. Why, oh why, couldn't the school invest in some more comfortable chairs?

Glancing up at the door, he sighed to himself. If there was any kind of bullying he had received, it was mainly verbal and out of Quatre's hearing and always done by that person coming in right now.

Chang Wufei.

He, too, had an affluent family, not as prestigious as Quatre's, but nonetheless important. Chinese in origin with silky black hair and onyx-colored eyes, his face was in its usual snobby (at least to Duo it was) expression. Oh and look, there came his little lapdog, Heero Yuy, a Japanese youth.

Now Heero was the most widely sought after guy as it seemed the whole female population was obsessed with him. A large reason why nobody messed with him was that he was big, strong, could kick a person's ass from here to the coast without breaking a sweat, and other similar attributes. Don't get him wrong, the combination of messy brown hair and Prussian blue eyes was a lethal combination to all would-be suitors, Duo included in that. But Heero was really a jerk, always thinking himself to be perfect and accepting nothing less.

Somebody please throttle him.

Fortunately, before the two Asians could attempt to begin a verbal assault on his fragile psyche, Ms. Lucreiza Noin, the World History teacher walked in, tardy for once. Even though she was a real laid-back and easy-going person, she didn't tolerate disrespect (her word, not his) inside her classroom. Typically, she would walk in right before the bell rang but today must be special.

Duo wasn't quite sure he knew what could be the reason for her tardiness though.

The moment she began taking out the incredibly thick history textbook, Duo groaned to himself, along with a good majority of the class. Now he knew what was so special about today. Now that he took a good look at her, he knew that she was off, and that only happened about once a month or so.

Damn it, why hadn't anybody found a cure for PMS yet? They can cure polio, create 4-D images of a baby in the womb, hell, even figure out what DNA looked like, but they couldn't figure out a way to keep females from spazzing out once a month? This was bullshit!

Now, he wasn't someone who struggled in history class. No, he was near the top and was blessed to have an easy time in it. It was just that when Ms. Noin was having her time of the month, she gave out pretty ludicrous assignments and expected them done by the next day when the amount of work assigned was something that could take an entire week to do.

Hopefully, please God let it be, she was closer to the ending of this time period than towards the beginning.

A wad of paper landed in front of him but he didn't need to open it to know who had sent it. Wufei was trying to get him in trouble wasn't he? He was going to have to try better than that.

"Mr. Maxwell? Would you do the honors of reading from page 87 to page 124 out loud to the class?" he heard Ms. Noin ask in a sickening sweet voice. Now, he knew better than to argue with such an unreasonable demand.

So, as in only the way that he could, he answered, "Yes Ms. Noin. It would be an honor."

Usually, Noin would see through his bullshit (her word again, not his) but perhaps the hormones raging throughout her system might blind her this time.

"An honor, is it? Are you trying to bullshit me, Maxwell?"

Okay, maybe not. What chapter was this anyway? Oh, this might be promising.

"No, Ms. Noin," he replied smoothly, maneuvering like a politician on the campaign trail. "Ancient Egypt is one of my favorite time periods. I particularly am fascinated by their religious beliefs, especially those concerning death and the afterlife."

"Oh really? Care to give an example?"

"Hey, I can never get enough of old Seth murdering Osiris and having Isis bring him back to life to rule over the afterlife while his son Horus gets into many misadventures that involve him making a fool out of old Seth."

"Huh," was Noin's reply. Perfect! He got her mind off of her condition! Hopefully… Now, if only she would take the bait…then the rest of the class would owe him big time. "And what does Osiris being murdered have anything to do with Ancient Egypt, Maxwell?"

Pfft. Could she give him an easier question?

"Osiris was basically the Pharaoh before Seth killed him. Because he was brought back to a semi-form of living, it was believed that the fate of Osiris would be that of the following Pharaohs, to become rulers of the next life once they died, thus contributing to the belief that the Pharaoh was a god of sorts."

"Interesting," Noin commented as she began asking more questions about the topic.

Oh yeah. These guys owed him big time.

Then again, they hadn't paid him back before…

Well, at least he had a chance of preventing the teacher from giving out unreasonable assignments. And he had only lasted…ten minutes so far. Fifty more left to go. God, he hated his life sometimes.

---

Quatre couldn't be happier at the moment. Not only was school out but he had managed to get out of having to do any homework whatsoever!

Noin's class was a tense one, but Duo had miraculously managed to divert her attention from classwork that day. Even though he didn't really understand half the stuff they were debating about, which is how that discussion turned out, he couldn't have been more proud of his friend than he was then.

Now, if he could figure out how to pay him back…

While Duo had gotten in depth with the teacher, Quatre had notice a couple glares aimed at his braided friend. Glares from two particular Asians known as Chang Wufei and Heero Yuy. They were just jealous, or at least Wufei was, of that Quatre was certain. He was by no means blind, deaf, and dumb to the happenings at school. For some reason, Wufei didn't like Duo. At all. And he had an idea as to why that was…

At last! Home sweet home! Well, home looked more like a mansion, but you get the picture.

He had just reached the front door when he felt off for some reason. His home was still home, naturally, but there was something…different about it. What could it be? Hmm…only one way to find out and that was to go inside.

Oh yeah, something was different. He could feel it in his bones. Damn it, what the hell could it be?

"Quatre."

He snapped his head around and felt tension leave him slightly at the sight of his father. If anybody could explain why things seemed different, it would be him. Wait a minute, though. What was his father doing home so early anyway?

"Yes Father?" he answered, holding back his curiosity.

"Come to my study," the man said and turned around, expecting his son to follow. And as expected, Quatre did so. Once in the named room, Quatre remained standing as his father sat down, waiting what for it was that his father wanted to say to him.

After a few moments of silence, his father spoke suddenly. "As of today, we are going to have another ward here. Your cousin, to be precise."

His cousin. Okay. What was the big deal about that? Wait, which cousin was he talking about? The Winner family was enormous. He had more cousins than he cared to count.

"Which one?" he asked aloud, though.

That earned him a chuckle from his father. "I keep forgetting how big the family is," his father said, good humor still in his voice. "You've met before, quite some years ago, in fact, so I don't expect you to remember him. However, I do expect you to make sure he settles down here, both at home and at your school, which he will begin attending with you tomorrow."

Okay, but that didn't answer his question. Patience Quatre. All good things come with patience.

His father looked over his shoulder and said, "Well, speak of the devil. There he is."

Unable to keep his curiosity unsated, he turned around to see who his father was looking at. There in the doorway stood a boy who was taller than him by a good few inches if not an entire foot. He had the trademark Winner blond hair though it was long, held in a ponytail, and wore a simple set of blue jeans, a white undershirt, and a black trench coat that stopped just under his knees. Bored green eyes bored into him from a very handsome face.

"Quatre Raberba Winner," his father introduced, "I would like to reacquaint you with your cousin Solomon Ezekiel Winner. Solomon, I'd like to reacquaint you with Quatre."

Solomon nodded then turned and left without so much as a word.

His father was right. He had difficulty remembering this one. But why was he here in the first place?

Well, he'd have to deal with all that in time. He waited until he was given a dismissal before heading to his room to make a phone call. He wanted to know if Trowa would be coming back tomorrow. He had a feeling that he was going to need as much support as he could get.