AN: wow! I got 8 reviews! YAY!!!! THANK YOU! And you all convinced me to write more… so here it is, though I'm warning you, it's a lot worse than the first one, and the ending's bad…
Disclaimer: I don't own them… I DON'T OWN THEM!!!! **bursts into tears** happy now?
Thank yous: All reviewers get cookies, **hands round plate of cookies**
Darkmus, whose pic inspired it, Thank you. I'm really glad you liked it, I mean if the person who drew the pic hadn't liked it then where would I be?
Wildfire's flame- cool name, thank you for being so nice about it!
Deadangel- here, I'm continuing it! And you should be very proud, this is only the second fic I have that's more than one chapter!
cc- …you really thought it was worth an aww? I'm impressed!
Arizosa- glad I managed to finally get someone in character, I usually have a big problem with that. I've probably screwed it u in this chapter, but at least I did it right in one of them.
Moonmyst- yes… go and build a snow Heero, it'll be fun! If you do I want a picture! Thankees for reviewing. And no, no angst here, Christmas is a time for FLUFF!!!
Akennea- I wrote more! No snow this time, but still… more!
Nikore Ishida- I didn't even notice the long words, I guess they just happened by mistake, ah well, thank you! And Thanks for putting me on your favourites list! **dances**
WARNING SHOUNEN AI!! MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIP!!! SLASH!!!
Please r&r
Snow Heero 2
It looked like the snow a few days previously had been a fluke, Duo thought to himself as he rapidly ate the breakfast of pancakes that Trowa was making for the whole group. They were really very nice and one of Duo's favourite ways to start the morning. But then his real favourite way to start the morning wasn't going to happen anytime soon was it?
He thought about that for a second… nope, no way Heero was going to wake him up by kissing the life out of him anytime this millennium.
He looked across the table to where Quatre was sitting. He still wasn't quite recovered from the chill he had acquired playing in the snow with Duo, and Duo partly blamed himself. If he hadn't been so enthusiastic about the fight and refused to go inside for so long. But Trowa seemed to be taking good care of him, and who knows, this might provide the two lovebirds with the perfect opportunity to get over their tongue-tied selves and tie each other's tongues in knots. He laughed, he' have to remember that bad joke for when they were together… He glanced at Quatre who was blushing at something Trowa had said, that wouldn't be long now. He gave them until Christmas. Maybe he should invest in some mistletoe?
That idea had possibilities, he thought as he reviewed it. Sure there were the problems with getting it in the first place. Heero and Wuffles would never see the effective use of buying such a trivial thing. But there was always the chance (chance meaning carefully designed plotting) of catching a certain spandex-clad guy under there and telling him that it was a vital Christmas tradition. He risked a "baka" and a broken nose, but it would be worth it.
There were still no missions, almost as if even the war had taken a break over Christmas. Duo knew that a long time ago Christmas had often been declared a time of ceasefire, but somehow he hadn't expected Oz to be into that kind of thing, or the colonies either, for that matter. But it was too good not to enjoy, even if he was slightly on edge expecting something to happen any second; that was just the way he was.
Wufei, he knew, was going to spend most of the day in training. Quatre would probably be up in his room with a concerned Trowa, who would otherwise be walking round the grounds, just for the sake of having something to do. Heero, as usual, was going to go and check the perimeter defences, just like he did every morning. So it looked like he was at a loose end again. And… he noted to himself whilst giving Quatre endless advice about how to use illness to the best advantage, he was stuck with the washing up again.
As everybody disappeared to their chosen activities he sighed and walked over to the pile of dishes. One of the many problems with living in a house with 4 other guys, besides the hormones, was the washing and tidying up. Especially after Trowa had made pancakes. Running the water as hot as he could get it, until it steamed and scorched his hands red raw he began to whistle to himself. Nothing much, just a series of Christmassy songs to go with the festive time of year.
He moved the brush in time with his whistling, watching the soapsuds slide down the plates and merge with those still in the sink. He hated having to do this, but as it was, he might as well make the most of it. The bubbles glided down his skin as well as they did down the china and he felt a bit like a snowman.
That reminded him of the figure he'd made a few nights ago, that had melted before he had truly had a chance to admire it. But that was rather lucky really, considering what the others would have said had they seen it. He would never have heard the last of it from Quatre. He wondered if Heero would actually look like that if he covered him in soap bubbles. Than he pictured it in is his head and he couldn't stop the grin from coming to his face. Now that was an image to dream about! Even the glare that he would get for doing it would be entertaining, and watching those bubbles slide down… ok, too far. He could not go that far whilst washing the dishes, time to change the subject.
He began to whistle again, which had been stopped by his preoccupation with a soap-covered Heero, and every now and then he stopped to conduct an unseen bubble orchestra with a washing-up brush baton. At one point during 'Happy Xmas' by a 20th century band called Slade, he got really into it and his conducting got quite violent, flinging bubbles all over the kitchen, and all over himself. When he opened his eyes again he caught sight of himself in the reflection in the window and burst out laughing. He had a fez made purely out of bubbles and he even had a dollop of foam on his nose. His first thought was that it was a pity the bubbles weren't re, so he could go around and call himself Rudolph, but he guessed that none of the others would get it, anyway.
Looking around he found that somewhere between 'Last Christmas' and 'Jingle Bell Rock' the dishes had been finished and he'd spent the last three songs dancing around the kitchen. He wished someone had had a camera, he must have been quite a sight.
Brushing the bubbles off his head and nose, and various other places, he stuck his head out of the door, there was no one there. He shrugged and waltzed off (almost literally) to the main living area, where they always kept a fire going during the day. He guessed that would be where most of the others were, but when he got there, it too was empty. In light of this fact he engaged himself in a vigorous conversation with himself about how they must have been abducted by aliens, or run away to join the national synchronised swimming team, which gave him another hilarious image of his four co-pilots in swimming outfits doing synchro.
But it wasn't the same as teasing one of them, and talking to yourself can get quite tedious after a minute or two, after all, you already know what the answer to every question you're going to ask is. Talking to the voices in his head wasn't any better, they kept telling him to leave them in peace. And somehow it didn't have quite the same ring if the Yuy death glare ™ or the Chang glare o' Doom ™ didn't accompany it.
So he fell into an unusual silence, once again bored by the lack of activity, and with no one to tease and no snow to play in. He glanced round the room, searching for something to entertain him. A cupboard, no, a bookcase, nah… an unknown piece of furniture covered by a dustsheet? One of Duo's eyebrows shot up; intrigued by a new mystery he had only just discovered.
Slowly, he walked over to it, where it stood in the corner, examining it from every angle and poking it experimentally. Caution was something he had learnt a long time ago. Then, in one quick movement, he whipped the cover off and his grin grew twice as large- a piano.
He drew up a chair to the wooden instrument and gently lifted the lid to examine the keys, yellowed by time. There was a light in his amethyst eyes that gave him a look of almost childhood excitement.
Hesitantly, he pressed middle C, and his eyes rounded in awe as the beautiful tone rolled out. He would never go as far as to say he was good at the piano, but he did know a few songs by memory, taught to him on an old, out of tune, wreck of a piano by Father Maxwell whenever he had had the time. It was a hazy memory, just the small recollection of childish fingers. But slowly, unsure if he could remember at first, he began to play, instantly picking something seasonal.
As soon as he recognised the tune, he smiled slightly and began to sing along, lost in a memory.
Silent night, Holy night,
All is calm, All is bright,
Round yon virgin mother and Child,
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
He gradually made his way to the end of the piece, a smile evident on his face. He wasn't religious, but he had always loved that carol. Unwilling to leave the piano, he began to pick out another tune.
So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear
He almost laughed at the irony. The song had a second title of 'War is over', which seemed ludicrous in his current situation, but despite this he kept on singing, too caught up in the music to care, and not wanting to go back to the uncomfortably silent house.
Heero had taken a bit longer than usual to check the perimeter defences. There had been a rainstorm the previous night that had not only cut off their electricity it had blown many of the trees in the surrounding area down, and all of them seemed to be blocking his way to one of the check points. He grunted slightly to himself, as he walked back in though the back door and began to stomp the mud off the boots, knowing that Quatre would be mad if he walked mud through the safe house.
He heard a faint sound, unlike those he would have expected to hear from the house, and it had him immediately on guard. Not only that but he couldn't hear Duo's constant chatter and that was disturbing in itself. The baka never shut up, even in his sleep he made noises, and they made about as much sense as the ones he made when he was awake! Something must have happened to him to shut him up. Heero stood stock still for a second, analysing his reactions to that. There was something cold inside him, and it hurt! Ignoring this he ran through the possibilities.
None of the outside defences had been tripped so either this was a very good enemy, r one of his fellow pilots. Of course, Wufei could have finally snapped and seriously run Duo through, but somehow Heero doubted it, even if he didn't show it much Wufei liked and even partially respected the braided pilot of Deathscythe, and he couldn't imagine Trowa or Quatre doing anything to him. So that left an intruder and a very good intruder if he had managed to get past their perimeter without being discovered. And that meant Heero would have to be extra careful.
He drew his gun and cocked it, ready to fire at the slightest provocation. Silent and deadly, he made his way toward the sound.
As he got closer the sound distinguished itself from the other, usual noises of the house. It was someone singing, and Heero began to get confused. That wasn't the voice of anyone he recognised, and he had no idea why an intruder would be singing, unless, he considered, it was to lull him into a false sense of security.
The voice was accompanied by the tones of a musical instrument, a piano, his brain supplied as he came toward the door of the room. Also strange, why would they be playing the piano as well as singing? Quietly, he rounded the door, and almost dropped his gun at the sight he saw, but only almost. Duo was sitting there, eyes closed, fingers dancing across the keys, singing to himself with a huge smile across his face.
Heero had never heard The God of Death sing before, and it was amazing. He didn't have a sweet voice, like Quatre, or a strong voice, like Trowa. He didn't even have the surprisingly lyrical voice Wufei had, or the rough voice that he himself seldom used. It was more… soulful. He was really putting his all into the music.
Heero just stood there for a second, spellbound by the sight. It occurred to him that he was in a very bad position. If Duo were to catch him he might ask him why he was here, and then what would he answer. Well, he wouldn't answer, obviously, but Duo had an uncanny knack of being able to tell what his grunts and silences meant. So he would have to leave, now.
But his body didn't move, and Heero found himself even more drawn to the braided boy. But he held onto his iron grip of control. This wasn't in the plan. He had to leave. But then again, Duo hadn't noticed him so far, so maybe he could stay a little longer.
Quatre and Trowa had heard the music from downstairs and they had found it a grateful release from their self-imposed awkward silence. Neither of them knew what to say to the other, and the sound drifting through the cracks around the door intrigue them. They hadn't known that any of the other pilots was musically inclined. So, by general consensus, they found themselves creeping out of the door and toward the stairs, their training coming in useful as they did not want to disturb whoever it was. When they got halfway down the flight they caught sight of Heero standing in the doorway, his usual look not falling but shock clear in his blue eyes. They shared a look. At least they knew who was singing now.
Quatre held his hand up to stifle a giggle at how oblivious the two were. He didn't want to be caught spying on the perfect soldier, not at a time when he was so off guard. So, lightly touching Trowa's shoulder, to get his attention, he signalled that they should go upstairs and leave Heero and Duo in peace. Trowa nodded, not wanting to interrupt the scene being played out in front of them.
Then, unnoticed, and as silently as they had come, they crept away, smiling to themselves at what they had just seen.
The song had finished and Duo sat there for a second. He felt as though there were someone watching him, but when he turned around there was no one. He sighed slightly, must have been his imagination, before getting up and going back to the kitchen, a happy smile on his face. As he was walking he practically ran into Heero who was just coming in from the garden.
Heero heard the final note and quickly turned and left. He had stayed too long already and Duo was too good a Gundam pilot not to have noticed someone was watching him. He stealthily left the building and managed to time his coming in just as Duo was coming back down the corridor. The violet-eyed pilot didn't suspect anything, and his plan could still work. He smirked inwardly. This was going to be a very good Christmas.