Legal Crap/Author's Note: I don't own Gundam (though by now, we should've established this...) To add to that, however, I also do not own Delia's Den (don't ask me how I know, but it is a real place). Um, to put in a note, Delia's Den, in being a real place, is not what I say it is I simply stole the name because I've always thought it kind of funny. All hail the kleptomaniac queen!
Battle of the Blondes
Part II: The Chestnut Hair of Delia's Den
Quatre wandered the streets for hours, each minute pondering what actions he should take. 'Break her favorite hairbrush? No, I don't want to seem like an amateur. Take a spin in Wing Zero and gun her down? No, a little too violent,' he smirked, 'but not by much.' In contrast to his usual laid back attitude, Quatre was pissed and he vowed to take no prisoners.
But after roaming the city for 4 hours, he came to one, simple conclusion. 'I'm not very clever about taking revenge, am I?' He needed to take lessons from a master, and knew just where to find one.
*~*~*
After a few wrong turns and a battle with a hobo for his vest, Quatre found himself outside Delia's Den, underage drinking bar by day, seedy strip club by night. 'If Duo isn't here, my name isn't Quatre Raberba Winner.'
As soon as he opened the door, he realized he was far from the yuppie wet bars he was so accustomed to seeing. The room was dingy and damp and it reeked of puke and cigars. But amongst it all stood the chestnut haired pilot, surprisingly sober, while dancing on the pool table to the delight of the red nosed drunkards.
Duo spun around a pool stick on the table, sending his coated rubber band flying and causing his braid to slowly unravel. To any pink elephant spotter, he was just another Delia's Den floozy doing a pole dance. The men hooted and hollered as they threw rolled up $50 and $100 bills at the crazed adolescent.
Quatre watched in shocked. He never would've guess something like this would be Duo's motives to come here, though he had wondered where the American pilot was getting his money from.
Looking over at the sudden sunlight, Duo could see the familiar, Docker's clad shadow of Quatre. 'Quatre? In a place like this?' He shrugged. 'Whatever.' "Hey Quatre! Come to join the party?" Duo yelled, hopping off the table.
The Arabian pilot's faced turned red in embarrassment. 'Leave it to Duo to make me look like a pervert.' "Uh, Duo, could I have a word with you?"
Looking back at his adoring fans, Duo slowly sauntered toward his anxious friend. "Take five boys, I'll be back!"
"Duo," Quatre began, his tone kind, but serious, "I've come to you for, shall I say, a little advice."
With that, Duo burst out laughing. "YOU came to ME for ADVICE? Now I've heard everything."
Quatre continued on, showing no frustration as he tried talking above Duo's laughter. "I need help taking revenge on someone. Will you help me?"
The cocky Shinigami smiled. "Depends on who we're talking about here. Does this person have a name, or should I just kill now and ask questions later? I charge $500 for civilian massacre and $2000 if they have decent fighting skills."
Quatre shook his head. "Don't kill, just take revenge on-" he paused for drama, "Relena Peacecraft."
"Say no more. I'll do this one for free."
*~*~*
Meanwhile...
Relena sat outside Chez Americaine, Hilde by her side.
"You want me to do WHAT?" Hilde shrieked, blasting the eardrums of passers by.
"I want you to help me take revenge on Quatre."
"Why?"
"That's not important now. What is important is will you help me?"
"Will there be food?"
Relena smiled. "Yes Hilde, my dear friend. We will have our cake and eat it too, while the albino rodent boy gets his just desserts."
Hilde smiled. "Mmmm, Just desserts." She paused, as if a thought just struck her. "Relena."
"Yeah."
"What do Just desserts taste like?"
Battle of the Blondes
Part II: The Chestnut Hair of Delia's Den
Quatre wandered the streets for hours, each minute pondering what actions he should take. 'Break her favorite hairbrush? No, I don't want to seem like an amateur. Take a spin in Wing Zero and gun her down? No, a little too violent,' he smirked, 'but not by much.' In contrast to his usual laid back attitude, Quatre was pissed and he vowed to take no prisoners.
But after roaming the city for 4 hours, he came to one, simple conclusion. 'I'm not very clever about taking revenge, am I?' He needed to take lessons from a master, and knew just where to find one.
*~*~*
After a few wrong turns and a battle with a hobo for his vest, Quatre found himself outside Delia's Den, underage drinking bar by day, seedy strip club by night. 'If Duo isn't here, my name isn't Quatre Raberba Winner.'
As soon as he opened the door, he realized he was far from the yuppie wet bars he was so accustomed to seeing. The room was dingy and damp and it reeked of puke and cigars. But amongst it all stood the chestnut haired pilot, surprisingly sober, while dancing on the pool table to the delight of the red nosed drunkards.
Duo spun around a pool stick on the table, sending his coated rubber band flying and causing his braid to slowly unravel. To any pink elephant spotter, he was just another Delia's Den floozy doing a pole dance. The men hooted and hollered as they threw rolled up $50 and $100 bills at the crazed adolescent.
Quatre watched in shocked. He never would've guess something like this would be Duo's motives to come here, though he had wondered where the American pilot was getting his money from.
Looking over at the sudden sunlight, Duo could see the familiar, Docker's clad shadow of Quatre. 'Quatre? In a place like this?' He shrugged. 'Whatever.' "Hey Quatre! Come to join the party?" Duo yelled, hopping off the table.
The Arabian pilot's faced turned red in embarrassment. 'Leave it to Duo to make me look like a pervert.' "Uh, Duo, could I have a word with you?"
Looking back at his adoring fans, Duo slowly sauntered toward his anxious friend. "Take five boys, I'll be back!"
"Duo," Quatre began, his tone kind, but serious, "I've come to you for, shall I say, a little advice."
With that, Duo burst out laughing. "YOU came to ME for ADVICE? Now I've heard everything."
Quatre continued on, showing no frustration as he tried talking above Duo's laughter. "I need help taking revenge on someone. Will you help me?"
The cocky Shinigami smiled. "Depends on who we're talking about here. Does this person have a name, or should I just kill now and ask questions later? I charge $500 for civilian massacre and $2000 if they have decent fighting skills."
Quatre shook his head. "Don't kill, just take revenge on-" he paused for drama, "Relena Peacecraft."
"Say no more. I'll do this one for free."
*~*~*
Meanwhile...
Relena sat outside Chez Americaine, Hilde by her side.
"You want me to do WHAT?" Hilde shrieked, blasting the eardrums of passers by.
"I want you to help me take revenge on Quatre."
"Why?"
"That's not important now. What is important is will you help me?"
"Will there be food?"
Relena smiled. "Yes Hilde, my dear friend. We will have our cake and eat it too, while the albino rodent boy gets his just desserts."
Hilde smiled. "Mmmm, Just desserts." She paused, as if a thought just struck her. "Relena."
"Yeah."
"What do Just desserts taste like?"