Disclaimer: I own no one in this fic. Even the plot was inspired by Soon to be a Major Motion Picture, by Warren Dunford. Yes, that's right. I'm not even this creative. ~.^ I'm not sure how Heero is going to end up in this story, so I would recommend that obsessive Heero lovers stay away from it.

Warnings: OOC, AU, suggestions of strange pairings, possible character-bastardization.

Under the Rainbow
A Gundam Wing Fic
Written by: Yuuki Miyaka
Part Two

Quatre stood before the mirror in his tiny bathroom, ignoring the fact that just brushing his calf on one side was the toilet and on the other was the tub, or that the entire bathroom was littered with products to help his hair, teeth, skin, and many other body parts. He ignored the fact that the sink was liberally dusted with fine blond hairs from when he'd shaved, or that the stopper was mildewed and rusted. Instead, he stared into a mirror splotched with used toothpaste and dried shaving cream. "You are a fool, Quatre Raberba Winner. You're a grade A nimrod."

If he'd been paying attention, he would have decided by now that it was definitely a bad habit he was getting into, staying in bathrooms and talking to himself. Instead, however, he was focussing on his mirror image, berating himself for running out of the club. His mind flashed over to those incredibly blue eyes, and he searched his mind for an adjective appropriate. "Deep. Drowning. Deadly. Oh, hell, nothing fits. It's all too shallow!" he finally declared, banging one hand on the sink. It echoed back a dull thud, moving a touch away from the wall. Briefly, Quatre wondered if this was the time he'd have to call the landlord, if at last it had finally decided to completely fall apart. But it stayed intact.

From the blue-eyed man, his mind fluttered to the turtlenecked guy who'd been sitting next to him. "Turtleneck. Nah. He definitely needs a more colorful nickname," Quatre chuckled. "Greeneyes. That's stupid." He thought a bit longer, then began to list, "Bangman. Bangboy. The Unibang Kid. The Unibanger." The last one elicited a giggle from Quatre, whose eyes were now beginning to tear up. He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair one last time, then disappeared into his living room, which happened to double as his dining room, kitchen, sitting room, and bedroom all in one. Just as he entered, the phone rang.

He detoured to the small table he had set up in one corner, grabbing the phone and turning on the computer screen. From the other end of the reciever, Duo began to prattle. "You'll never guess what I did last night, Quat!"

"Deep throated on a first date?" Quatre said, his tone dripping bitter sarcasm. Duo didn't even notice.

"Of course not. I'm not so tacky. I'll wait until the second date. I met the most wonderful man, Quat. He's a god. He's my dream man," Duo gushed, making Quatre wanted to bang the receiver on the table until it broke. "He's got the most gorgeous eyes you've ever imagined. And his hair just looks like I could run my fingers through it all day."

"Your dream man, huh?" Quatre asked bitterly. "You think he's going to be any different than Solo?" That shut Duo up, but only momentarily.

"Of course, Quat! Heero is obviously much more sensitive than Solo ever was. I mean, what kind of a name is Solo, anyway?"

"What kind of a name is Duo?" Quatre returned, feeling tired and angry and hurt. Duo didn't even hear.

"But Heero . . . man, he's good as gold. I can promise you now."

"Whatever," Quatre said, and hung up the phone. He went back to staring at the picture on his computer screen with a deep sigh. Some years were just made to go wrong.