Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^
The next week passed by quite eventful. Heero followed his daily rituals as he always did. Getting up to get ready for the long day ahead – eating his breakfast, taking a shower, things that any normal human being would do in the precious time before the days work began. He would wheel himself out of the apartment, locking up firmly behind him, and take the elevator a few levels down to his office. Every morning, he was greeted respectfully by many he passed, but always came with the same answer he always had.
"Hn", and move on. He would let nothing interrupt the course of work through out the day. It was even very rare that he ever took a lunch break, much less 4 minutes to make himself coffee. He would sit in his office, clattering away at his computer, filing important papers or approving of them. Paperwork, file work, analysis – it wasn't as easy as it sounded. He would never go to any staff parties, though he was always invited. His visits outside the building happened only two or three times a week and he was beginning to pale. It was a monotonous, planned, and actually a very boring and dull life for him to live after his experiences in the war. But until he figured out what he really wanted, or at least asked himself that question, he would remain like this.
While he was busy burying himself in work, work, more work, and a topping of more work plus a side-order of work, the small Mail alert sign popped up on the screen of his computer.
"Uh? I thought they sent me all work to be done at the beginning of the day…Hn, must be a late assignment." he growled, unappreciative of the un- punctual ways of his fellow office workers. He clicked on the "New Mail" link displayed in bright blue on the screen, and wondered why it had to be such an annoyingly bright color.
The mail title read a boring (none), but the sender was again, after a brief pause in his mailing spree ( Called so by Heero, even after only one mail), Quatre Winner.
Heero raised an eyebrow, wondering what the heck Quatre would send him mails for now. It wasn't his birthday anymore, and as far as he saw there was nothing else that was remotely important in any sense that Quatre would have to write about. Despite having tried to ignore Quatre as he'd done with all of his past life, there was this egging feeling deep inside him that just couldn't. Since Quatre's mail, however, the nightmares had stopped. As if it had given him some form of invisible cure for bad dreams. And he still hadn't deleted the previous mail. He had, during the week, often found himself opening the file and staring long at his old friend, feeling the memories of the war and their friendships within it creep back over him like gnarled old roots bursting into life once more. Again he clicked the title to read.
||Hello again! You didn't reply to my mail before, I suppose you have had loads to do. That's ok though! The only thing I'm worried about is that I'm STILL planning on coming on Friday, and if you don't approve…well please, tell me now. If all is OK, I'll be arriving around, say, 5 'o clock PM. I'll take a…um…those things…TAXI! to your house/apartment/I don't know – they're bound to know where it is. Hope to see you there!"
Quatre||
It was Thursday
Heero noted a different standard mail signature at the end of the mail this time, but still in Quatres odd, but comforting style.
"I'm not happy, unless my friends are. And I want to be happy, so I will make you be =) XXX Quatre"
Heero chuckled slightly to himself, hoping for dear life that no-one had heard him when he realized he had uttered another sound that an irritated one. Pausing for a minute, he looked at the 'Reply' icon at the top of the email, and after a few minutes of pondering, he clicked it. His reply was short, but to the point. And so much like him it couldn't be any more to the extreme of Heero.
|| Mission Accepted ||
The outgoing signature was, and would probably always remain "Omae o korosu ~ Yuy" He clicked the 'Send' button, closed the window and set his computer to go to it's plain black screen saver. Satisfied, he returned to a mass of papers that were stacked in front of him to continue the work Quatres mail had interrupted, but not anymore in an irritable sense.
"Goodnight, Mr. Yuy!"
"See you tomorrow, sir."
Voices came from every office he passed as he made his way down the corridor to the elevators. He simple replied with a curt nod, keeping his expressionless look intact. It wasn't hard. He hardly knew these people. They were work companions and nothing more. People whom he worked side by side by to create result. Of course, the same applied to his fellow Gundam pilots. But that, even he would admit, was something completely and utterly different.
Patiently he waited for the lift to reach his floor, and wheeled himself in swiftly as the light metal doors opened with the small ring of a bell accompanying it. He endured the horrendously boring elevator music all the way up to his apartment, where he exited the lift – which was much more than just your standard 'box' in this place – unlocked his door, and slipped inside. He could feel it. That odd feeling when your stomach bubbles, butterflies or whatever name it was given and your heart skips a beat from time to time. He was as excited as it was capable for someone of his kind to be. Were Duo there to read his thoughts, Heero knew his expression would be wide eyes, gaping mouth, and arched eyebrows, accompanied by some phrase like.
"Shingami! Abnormal! Someone call 911-HEEROISACTINGHUMAN"
Or possibly something such as:
"Wai! Progress!" followed by a big Duo-hug, which Heero never really had appreciated.
A typical light hearted Duo joke, that no-one, least of all Heero, actually took any offense from. Actually, his jokes were appreciated subconsciously. They did…cheer people up.
"That joker…" Heero said quietly to himself, referring to Duo in an *ACTUAL* sentence. Please note that this is gasp, shock, amazement, and awe. I will give you a few moments to absorb this information.
Done? On with the fic.
Bored and restless, for many a reason, Heero flicked on the television and seated himself in front of it, not expecting to see anything worthy of his interest anyway. As per usual, there was TONS of viewing pleasure available, consisting to 99% infomercials – which, of course, *EVERYONE* enjoys.
"Just my luck." He said grimly, and immediately his eyelids started to droop out of Boredomius Extremius to which Duo had never provided him with the full list of cures – which was quite unfortunate. The sickness often visited him nowadays (See relevant story ^^) The infomercials just went on, and on, and on, and you get the picture, for hours it seemed.
"Strawberry toothpaste, the NEW revolution in kids toothpaste! Make brushing your teeth fun!"
"The new Android Barbie! With a special PINK suit and her very OWN mechanical purse! Clip on dresses to go with, and so much more! *Sappy and stupid flower-power-Barbie song, sung by obsessed little girls* Baaarbie!"
"Veteran war convention, dedicated to those lost in the battles. Held Tuesday from seven to 12 noon. In association with the Chang industries and their work in the department of post-war subjects"
Chang Industries.
Chang Wufei.
But Heero, had gone into a light slumber, and the words did not transform into the name of yet another of his fellow Gundam Pilots as of yet. Slowly the evening faded into night, and Heero remained asleep in front of the television. No dreams plagued him that night either, and he remained asleep past the rise of the artificial sun, and long into the day. Heck, he deserved the rest. It was long since he had slept this well. When he finally managed to blink his eyes open the next day, it was close to 4 pm.
And the infomercials, were still blabbering their mound of garbage.
To Be Continued
Authors Note: If you're reading this at all, drop me a line to tell me what you think of it so far. And if there really is no-one reading this fic, I'll just continue it anyway for the sake of writing ^^ If you are reading *pokes you with a newspaper* Puh-lease review? *big puppy dog eyes*
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^
The next week passed by quite eventful. Heero followed his daily rituals as he always did. Getting up to get ready for the long day ahead – eating his breakfast, taking a shower, things that any normal human being would do in the precious time before the days work began. He would wheel himself out of the apartment, locking up firmly behind him, and take the elevator a few levels down to his office. Every morning, he was greeted respectfully by many he passed, but always came with the same answer he always had.
"Hn", and move on. He would let nothing interrupt the course of work through out the day. It was even very rare that he ever took a lunch break, much less 4 minutes to make himself coffee. He would sit in his office, clattering away at his computer, filing important papers or approving of them. Paperwork, file work, analysis – it wasn't as easy as it sounded. He would never go to any staff parties, though he was always invited. His visits outside the building happened only two or three times a week and he was beginning to pale. It was a monotonous, planned, and actually a very boring and dull life for him to live after his experiences in the war. But until he figured out what he really wanted, or at least asked himself that question, he would remain like this.
While he was busy burying himself in work, work, more work, and a topping of more work plus a side-order of work, the small Mail alert sign popped up on the screen of his computer.
"Uh? I thought they sent me all work to be done at the beginning of the day…Hn, must be a late assignment." he growled, unappreciative of the un- punctual ways of his fellow office workers. He clicked on the "New Mail" link displayed in bright blue on the screen, and wondered why it had to be such an annoyingly bright color.
The mail title read a boring (none), but the sender was again, after a brief pause in his mailing spree ( Called so by Heero, even after only one mail), Quatre Winner.
Heero raised an eyebrow, wondering what the heck Quatre would send him mails for now. It wasn't his birthday anymore, and as far as he saw there was nothing else that was remotely important in any sense that Quatre would have to write about. Despite having tried to ignore Quatre as he'd done with all of his past life, there was this egging feeling deep inside him that just couldn't. Since Quatre's mail, however, the nightmares had stopped. As if it had given him some form of invisible cure for bad dreams. And he still hadn't deleted the previous mail. He had, during the week, often found himself opening the file and staring long at his old friend, feeling the memories of the war and their friendships within it creep back over him like gnarled old roots bursting into life once more. Again he clicked the title to read.
||Hello again! You didn't reply to my mail before, I suppose you have had loads to do. That's ok though! The only thing I'm worried about is that I'm STILL planning on coming on Friday, and if you don't approve…well please, tell me now. If all is OK, I'll be arriving around, say, 5 'o clock PM. I'll take a…um…those things…TAXI! to your house/apartment/I don't know – they're bound to know where it is. Hope to see you there!"
Quatre||
It was Thursday
Heero noted a different standard mail signature at the end of the mail this time, but still in Quatres odd, but comforting style.
"I'm not happy, unless my friends are. And I want to be happy, so I will make you be =) XXX Quatre"
Heero chuckled slightly to himself, hoping for dear life that no-one had heard him when he realized he had uttered another sound that an irritated one. Pausing for a minute, he looked at the 'Reply' icon at the top of the email, and after a few minutes of pondering, he clicked it. His reply was short, but to the point. And so much like him it couldn't be any more to the extreme of Heero.
|| Mission Accepted ||
The outgoing signature was, and would probably always remain "Omae o korosu ~ Yuy" He clicked the 'Send' button, closed the window and set his computer to go to it's plain black screen saver. Satisfied, he returned to a mass of papers that were stacked in front of him to continue the work Quatres mail had interrupted, but not anymore in an irritable sense.
"Goodnight, Mr. Yuy!"
"See you tomorrow, sir."
Voices came from every office he passed as he made his way down the corridor to the elevators. He simple replied with a curt nod, keeping his expressionless look intact. It wasn't hard. He hardly knew these people. They were work companions and nothing more. People whom he worked side by side by to create result. Of course, the same applied to his fellow Gundam pilots. But that, even he would admit, was something completely and utterly different.
Patiently he waited for the lift to reach his floor, and wheeled himself in swiftly as the light metal doors opened with the small ring of a bell accompanying it. He endured the horrendously boring elevator music all the way up to his apartment, where he exited the lift – which was much more than just your standard 'box' in this place – unlocked his door, and slipped inside. He could feel it. That odd feeling when your stomach bubbles, butterflies or whatever name it was given and your heart skips a beat from time to time. He was as excited as it was capable for someone of his kind to be. Were Duo there to read his thoughts, Heero knew his expression would be wide eyes, gaping mouth, and arched eyebrows, accompanied by some phrase like.
"Shingami! Abnormal! Someone call 911-HEEROISACTINGHUMAN"
Or possibly something such as:
"Wai! Progress!" followed by a big Duo-hug, which Heero never really had appreciated.
A typical light hearted Duo joke, that no-one, least of all Heero, actually took any offense from. Actually, his jokes were appreciated subconsciously. They did…cheer people up.
"That joker…" Heero said quietly to himself, referring to Duo in an *ACTUAL* sentence. Please note that this is gasp, shock, amazement, and awe. I will give you a few moments to absorb this information.
Done? On with the fic.
Bored and restless, for many a reason, Heero flicked on the television and seated himself in front of it, not expecting to see anything worthy of his interest anyway. As per usual, there was TONS of viewing pleasure available, consisting to 99% infomercials – which, of course, *EVERYONE* enjoys.
"Just my luck." He said grimly, and immediately his eyelids started to droop out of Boredomius Extremius to which Duo had never provided him with the full list of cures – which was quite unfortunate. The sickness often visited him nowadays (See relevant story ^^) The infomercials just went on, and on, and on, and you get the picture, for hours it seemed.
"Strawberry toothpaste, the NEW revolution in kids toothpaste! Make brushing your teeth fun!"
"The new Android Barbie! With a special PINK suit and her very OWN mechanical purse! Clip on dresses to go with, and so much more! *Sappy and stupid flower-power-Barbie song, sung by obsessed little girls* Baaarbie!"
"Veteran war convention, dedicated to those lost in the battles. Held Tuesday from seven to 12 noon. In association with the Chang industries and their work in the department of post-war subjects"
Chang Industries.
Chang Wufei.
But Heero, had gone into a light slumber, and the words did not transform into the name of yet another of his fellow Gundam Pilots as of yet. Slowly the evening faded into night, and Heero remained asleep in front of the television. No dreams plagued him that night either, and he remained asleep past the rise of the artificial sun, and long into the day. Heck, he deserved the rest. It was long since he had slept this well. When he finally managed to blink his eyes open the next day, it was close to 4 pm.
And the infomercials, were still blabbering their mound of garbage.
To Be Continued
Authors Note: If you're reading this at all, drop me a line to tell me what you think of it so far. And if there really is no-one reading this fic, I'll just continue it anyway for the sake of writing ^^ If you are reading *pokes you with a newspaper* Puh-lease review? *big puppy dog eyes*