Operation: Make Quatre a Guy! 1/3

Quatre Winner blinked up at his best friend, comrade-in-arms, brother-in-all-but-name, the guy currently (but not always) known as Duo Maxwell. Hesitantly, he smiled; it was hard not to, when Duo beamed so manically at him, violet eyes sparkling with the vibrancy of a thousand suns. Quatre looked back down at the manila folder Duo had thrown at him only seconds before, its printed title stating: 'MISSION PARAMETERS OF OPERATION: MAKE QUATRE A GUY'. "But Duo," he protested. "I am a guy."

Duo shook his head emphatically, saying, "Quat, man, I love ya – but no guy takes more than an hour in the bathroom unless he's got serious plumbing problems, and I know you eat bran cereal for breakfast." He leaned forward, face tilted to Quatre's, braid thumping over his shoulder to hit his chest. Quatre leaned backwards in response. "Trust me. Everything'll be fine."

For all that Quatre had fought in wars (two), battled in the boardroom (his father's), and faced down numerous big sisters (twenty-nine) – the determined look on Duo's face sent a shivery tingle of fear down his spine. Somehow, this would all end in disaster. And, possibly, silly string. When Duo got involved, things inevitably did.

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If Quatre had any hope of keeping his sanity throughout Duo's odd, bizarre, totally un-needed quest to 'guy-ify' him (really, Quatre was plenty manly. If you squinted), it was dashed when he walked into the living room to see Heero Yuy and Chang Wufei on the couch, both with familiar manila folders open on their laps.

A sinking feeling deep in his stomach, Quatre said, "He got to you already, didn't he."

"If you mean Hurricane Maxwell, you'd be correct," Wufei smirked without looking up. "Better you being his newest project than me – you should have heard his rantings on 'removing the stick up my ass' at the last reunion."

All former Gundam pilots were required, after having undergone extensive psychiatric counseling, to meet up four times yearly with one another to 'blow off steam'. It was widely recognized that hanging out with one's peer group acted as a destressor, and if there were any group the world did not need stressed out, it was that of the former Gundam pilots. Seeing as they had no other peers (for how many others had balanced terrorism and schoolwork at the tender age of fifteen?), they were stuck with one another, their other options being years ofpsychoanalysis with possible shock therapy (definite shock therapy, in Duo's case) or lobotomy (Sally Po swore that Lady Une was just joking when she mentioned that last one…).

"Count yourself lucky," Wufei continued. "You only have to deal with it for a weekend. I'm partners with the idiot – there was no escaping him for months."

Quatre shuddered, and then turned desperately to Heero. "Heero? Do you think you could talk him out of this?" Of all of them, Heero remained the only one capable of reining in Duo's behaviour. It might have been his habit of drawing his gun and playing 'Target Practice' when Duo got too annoying.

Heero didn't look up from the folder. He grunted, "Hn," and then said, "I think it's a good idea."

For a moment, Quatre's heart stopped beating. The world dimmed down to hazy gray vision and his deep, shallow breaths threatened to verge on hyperventilation. "Excuse me," he said, when the universe tilted back into focus. "I thought I just heard you say something of Duo's is a good idea."

"It's been known to happen," Heero said solemnly. His dark blue eyes were serious as they stared at Quatre, but his lips gave a small quirk as he added, "Rarely." He flipped the folder shut, folded his hands over top of it, looking every inch a competent and confident businessman, and stated, "Let Duo do this. He'll leave the rest of us alone and you might get something out of it."

"Yeah… an ulcer," Quatre muttered. He mustered up a weak smile. If Heero thought it a good idea, then, maybe… Well, maybe he could give it a shot.

And it was that attitude that led him to be walking through the mall two hours later, wearing full drag complete with underwear and makeup, a grinning Duo at his side and a hysterical Wufei behind him.

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It was after the fifth wolf-whistle that Quatre snapped. He stalked up to the body-builder who'd given it, growling, and yanked the six foot six inches muscle-man down to his five foot eight inches (in heels) height. "Don't. Whistle. At. Me."

The body-builder grinned lazily, reached down and squeezed Quatre's ass with a leisurely hand. "Ah, sweetcheeks, I can't help it if you're hot."

The resulting violence was graphic. Quatre was demure and polite when the police arrived (ten minutes before the ambulance, which spoke volumes about the city's crime rate), and the officers refused to believe such a "tiny thing" could have reduced three hundred and twelve pounds of man to so much pulverized meat. Duo and Wufei were eyeballed suspiciously, but in the end all three were allowed to walk away without comment.

While stomping in the direction of the car, Quatre said angrily, "I thought you were trying to make me a guy, Duo, not a transvestite."

"This whole exercise just proves my point," Duo said soothingly if smugly. "You're way too convincing as a girl. You could get away with it when we were younger since, y'know, people that it was so cute that you had big blue eyes and bright yellow hair and the best posture money could buy – but cute turns to effeminate, and effeminate's just another way to say 'girly' without starting an international incident. You didn't really believe me before since you've got all those sisters still cooing over you, but it's true. Most people looking at you can't tell if you're one way or the other unless they place it in context with the clothes… which that guy you just pounded did, wrongly."

Quatre frowned, but this time thoughtfully. "You may have a point," he conceded grudgingly. He scrubbed at his face in irritation. "Nevertheless, I really want to wash this stuff off and change out of this outfit. You have no idea how much under-wire digs in."

Next time on 'Operation: Make Quatre a Guy!' - Trowa remains mysteriously absent, Relena makes an (annoying) appearance, and Quatre's guy-hood is put to the test! Stay tuned!

A brief author's note: This little mini-series is written in part as a response to the wonderful reviews received for an earlier short-short fanfic entitled 'The Border Between Strange and Deranged', also about Quatre's exceeding girliness. It is intended as a piece of humour and perhaps as aparody of all the skewed fanon versions of Quatre out there. But lastly, and most importantly, it is a gift tribute to the other half of this writing duo for her impending birthday! The countdown begins today!