Disclaimer: I don't own GW, Duo, his various aliases, Hilde, or Milliken and his oil drop experiment. Not mine! All I own is the dialogue, et, and old Mr. Wilson, whom I don't really want.

Hilde Schbeiker hit the enter key with a flourish, finishing the month's bills. Off the little electrons went, across the computers of the world… taking all of their money with them.

Their money, their house… Hilde had finally gotten used to thinking of everything she shared with Duo that way: theirs. She turned around in her swivel chair to look at him, fixing who-knew-what. Truth to tell, he was so buried in the ancient, decrepit machine that she couldn't see him.

Why were they living together anyway? Hilde couldn't figure it out. One moment she was with OZ, loyal as can be if not happy about it, then a Gundam pilot with a braid and big mouth shows up and crash-bang-wham! Here they were.

She couldn't put her finger on it. OZ was no doubt looking for her, so they could execute her as a deserter. OZ was looking for him, obviously, because he was a Gundam pilot, so what were they doing here, running their own business of all things?

"Hildey!" Duo's voice interrupted her contemplations, "Hildey, I got oil in my eye again…"

Ah, that was it. He was hopeless on his own. The great Duo Maxwell, famed Gundam pilot 02, the God of Death, had managed to spill machine oil in his eyes for the third time this month. Dimly she was aware that he must have been somewhere before they'd met, but it didn't concern her at the moment.

"Alright, let's get you to the sink. I can't see you in there, Duo, can you get out?"

"I'm here," he said, pushing himself out from under the … giant something. His voice came muffled by hands.

"No, don't rub it!" she scolded.

"It hurts," the braided pilot whined, using the voice that went with his ever-effective puppy eyes. Much as Hilde would have like to tease him, she couldn't refuse the voice.

"Okay, come on," the German girl said as she dragged her defeated companion into the washroom and stuck his head under the tap, running the water in a gentle stream. Ignoring the American's frequent complaints, she tried to focus on getting the rest of the oil out of his hair, letting him take care of his eyes.

"Tried to" being the keywords. "Duo, close your mouth," she instructed, "I'm going to get the soap."

"Eep!"

"Not for your eye, baka, I need to lubricate your hair. When was the last time you combed it?"

"I—ah—No! Don't put dish soap on my hair!"

"This is hand soap—okay, fine. I'll get your shampoo."

Hilde returned a few minutes later, shampoo and comb in hand.

Blue eyes met blue.

A single cry echoed through the house.

"No! Not that!"

The following silence did not last long.


After an hour of yelling-sud-tossing-wrestling frenzy, two soaked teenagers collapsed on the couch.

"So," the raven-haired girl said wearily, "Duo Maxwell, for the third time this month, was defeated by—"

"Oh, come on!" the braided boy protested, adjusting the giant towel-turban on his head, "It was huge! Ten feet tall!"

"…A few drops of oil."

"No mere mortal stood a chance," he insisted.

"A good thing you're no mortal then," she said, dropping the sardonic tone.

Both were silent for a long moment, then Duo asked, "Anything else we have to do today, babe?"

"Old Mr. Wilsonwants his car, there's a laundry backup, andthe hardware storewants the money for that last parts shipment," she answered without really thinking about the words.

"Nothing urgent then," he said happily.

Hilde listened to the newscaster rattle out her toned-down summary of the latest developments in the war for a few minutes, then asked, "What were you doing, anyway?"

"Milliken's oil drop experiment." (1)

Hilde laughed softly and they fell into comfortable silence again.

"I love you, babe," he said.

"I love you, too, Duo."

A/N: what did you think? review, please!

(1) Milliken was a scientist who used electric charge and fields to make oil drops hover. If you want details, google it.