Disclaimer: Okay, guys look—As much as I'd love to say that I own Gundam Wing and all the G-boys, I don't. Okay? I don't! Cries

Rated: PG-13...for now.

AU:
Eighteen-year-old Heero Yuy, a freelance artist, is confused about his life and where to go next, what goals to pursue, and who to trust. His best friend, Duo Maxwell, barely even acknowledges his existence anymore, too busy with parties and different women every Friday night. While sketching at the local lake one afternoon, Heero finds himself drawn to a young woman and her child, and realizes his place in life, and his reason for living.

Squishy Fingers

It was so soothing to Heero, to have his own little sanctuary of color and creativity; a place to think, sleep, brainstorm, cry, and really just live. It was his bedroom. Everything in it was his. Everything. He'd never let anyone take or use anything in his bedroom, besides maybe a tissue or piece of construction paper, and he intended on keeping it that way. The apartment he lived in was small with two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. That was it. When he was in his bedroom, he could lie down on his bed, close his eyes, and just imagine himself anywhere else but in that tiny apartment. Sometimes he was off in a mystical mix of colors and shapes. Other times, he was off in Neverland, flying high in the sky with Peter Pan and Wendy. He'd never admit that to anyone, though. Ever since that documentary on Michael Jackson, everyone had gotten rid of things to do with fairytales or moon walking, except maybe himself. He'd kept his storybooks and paintings of Peter and the gang in his closet, and he'd never really learned to moon walk.

Heero shook her head and forced himself out of his train of thought, scanning the picture he'd just drawn in the midst of daydreaming. It was a picture of the window to the right of his bed, the drapes fluttering and swaying. He smirked to himself and then glanced at his hands. They were gray and black with charcoal, and the dent in his index finger was red. It had always amazed him the way everyone in the world seemed to have that one dent in their finger that came from schoolwork, usually.

/ A six-year-old Heero waddled into the family room where his mother was seated on the couch, watching TV, and sewing up a torn spot in his pants. The young boy crawled onto his mother's lap and tugged at the hem of her shirt, gazing up at her with wide, bright eyes.
"Mommy, look at my finger! It's red, and look! It's squishy, too!" Heero poked at the red, throbbing dent in his finger, and then showed it to his mother, who chuckled softly, brought his finger to her lips, and kissed it.
"It'll be okay, Tiger. It won't be squishy forever." His mother held them close, and then began tickling his sides, in which little Heero squirmed and giggled.
"Hey! Hey! Let go of me, Mama!" /

Heero snorted to himself and sat upright on his bed, swinging his legs over the edge, using his bare toes to move the checkered pattern rug a few centimeters to the right. She'd lied to him—it had stayed squishy forever. Reaching up, he brushed a few stubborn strands of hair from his face, only to have them fall back into place. He had to do something about this hair one day, he thought, it would get him shot sooner or later.

He made his way to the desk where his radio sat and switched it on, scanning through the stations absentmindedly until a very soft introductory melody caught his attention. It was Stevie Wonder's Ribbons In The Sky. Heero loved this song. It reminded him of a picture he had painted; a picture of two doves bumping beaks. He doubted he'd ever see something like that in real life, though—it was just too unlikely to really see anything so beautiful as that in the world they lived in now.

Oh so long for this night I prayed,
That a star would guide you my way,
To share with me this special day.
There are ribbons in the sky for our love...

 "Whew! What a day!" came the booming, enthusiastic voice from the living room. Duo was home, and that was Heero's cue to go and greet him, beg him to spend time with him this evening, be ignored, and then left alone in the kitchen, like always. So, without another moment wasted, he made his way from the room and into the kitchen where Duo was pouring himself a glass of cold milk and rummaging through the cookie jar.

"You rang?" came Heero's dry response. He said it everyday, every time Duo walked through the door from work or partying. Same old crap.

Duo nodded and flashed Heero a toothy grin while setting his milk glass down and taking a seat up on the counter. He swung his legs, just as Heero had done a moment ago on his bed, and watched his roommate from across the room.

"Yes. I rang. Hilde's gonna take me out to Madame Peacock's, ya' know, that knew strip club ten blocks down. Her sister works there, now, so we get in for free! Her sister's a hot one too, Hee-chan" Heero frowned and leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke.

"Duo, you promised me yesterday you'd take me down to the lake so that I can work on my sketches."

Duo grunted and took a thoughtful bite from his cookie while hopping from the counter and making his way towards the door. "Hee-Chan," he began, "the lake isn't too far from here. I'm sure you can walk there, right?" He wasn't waiting for answer though. By the time Heero registered his response, Duo was halfway out the door. "If Sally calls, tell her I'm out! I'll call her later!" and then he was gone.

Heero stood there, then, in the middle of the kitchen, staring towards the living room door with aversion. He had to admit to himself that he was stung by Duo's lack of interest in his life, and for that matter, Heero at all. Shrugging to himself, she trudged back up the stairs, into his bedroom, grabbed his sketchpad, and made his way out the door.
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The cool, luscious grass beneath Heero's fingers tickled his skin and forced shivers up and down his spine. It wasn't as warm as he thought it would be today, but either way, he wasn't going back home for a while. The sketchpad was balanced lightly on his knee, open to a fresh blank page, but he was tapping the charcoal pencil again the paper. He'd drawn this very spot a few weeks ago, and the sky wasn't inspiration enough.

"Hn." He muttered softly, pressing his back against the tree trunk and watching a group of children chase what looked like a Labrador puppy. Amongst those children was a young boy of about three or four with bright blue eyes and a disordered mop of dark, almost black hair.

Heero couldn't help but smile; that boy reminded him of something, of someone. And then his heart nearly skipped a beat as a figure emerged from behind the boy, quick and graceful. The figure was a woman, petite and shapely, not exactly model thin, but packed on with ten or fifteen extra pounds without being fat. Her eyes were a sparkling emerald green, and her hair was the same dark color as the young boy's. She threw her arms around the boy and held him close to her chest, swinging him to and fro while laughing. Heero couldn't get over the fact on how beautiful her smile was.

Before he knew it, Heero's pencil was flying across the paper and his eyes were darting from his sketch, to the woman, and back again. She was his inspiration—that woman and her child, but when he looked up again, the woman and the boy were gone.

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I'm slow to update, and I might not even update if I get too many flames, so I hope to see some good reviews. I know it was short-like, but I'm sleepy and sick, so, yeah! :)

Yes, I also know that Heero acted differently than he would in the show, but then again, I did mention it was an AU fic.

I love you guys!!

-SHW