Disclaimer: I own nothing.
An: Rewritten. Plot slightly change. Hopefully, it's way better.
Warning: English is not my first language, so please forgive me if they're any mistakes grammar or spelling wise. I'll try to catch as many as I can.
Summary: Usagi turns into a cat and gets adopted by the Gundam boys.
Cat for a Week
Day 2
When Duo woke up to the sunlight shinning in his oversensitive eyes, his head swimming nauseatingly in pain, he swore he wouldn't drink again. The shooting ache he feels behind his eyelids made him dizzy as the vertigo took its toll. He felt himself go pale as a rumble came from his stomach. Duo blindly leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed the waste basket just as he managed to heave out everything he had eaten yesterday. He blearily noticed the glass of water and the pain relievers on his nightstand. He reached out with a shaky hand and took them.
"Thank god," he groaned when he finally managed to laid back into the warmth of his covers.
"God is nice, but I preferred to be called Quatre."
Duo's eyes shot open.
"Ugh!"
He closed his eyes in pain. He groaned in thanks as the curtains were hastily closed on his behalf. Duo finally managed to open his eyes to squinted in the semi-darkness.
"Hotel? Motel? Brothel?" he asked in a raspy voice.
His caregiver just chuckled.
Duo forced his eyes to open another centimeter.
It was his bed he was sleeping in and it was his room; straight down from the tools he used to repair his gundam to the 2008 playmate of the year poster hanging on the wall across from his bed. The only thing unusual in it was the blond who sat on his desk.
"Who are you?" He winced when his voice came out in a hoarse croak instead of the intimidating demand that it was supposed to be.
"Quatre Raberba Winner," the blond held out a hand. "Pilot 004."
Duo had been too flabbergasted to do anything, but blink stupidly. He realized his mistake when Quatre looked uncomfortable and unsure as he slowly withdrew his hand. Abruptly, Duo reached out and took the hand, pumping it enthusiastically.
"Duo Maxwell," he grinned, still fighting against his hangover. "Pilot 002." He studied the fragile looking blond for several long moments. "Hey, no offense or anything, but you're a pilot?"
The other pilot looked nothing like how Duo had imagine. Where was the bluff muscles? The hard and dangerous narrowed eyes? The big hands that could snap someone in half?
This guy looked like he'd be more at home in an expensive mansion then in a huge mechanical killing machine. The dress shirt and the vest he wore was probably worth more than Duo's entire wardrobe. The expensive leather loafers just screamed out 'heir' and 'rich kid'. Looking closer, Duo recognized the crest of a famous prestigious school on L4 that was on the guy's breast pocket. Even if the guy weren't dress to the nines, Duo still won't believe that the kid could handle being behind a cockpit when he looked like he should belong more behind a school desk. Hell, the guy was so slender he looked as if a stiff wind could break him. There was no way Duo's still addled mind could connect the kind looking boy in front of him to a gundam pilot.
"No offense taken," Quatre assured.
The smile that Quatre gave him was a knowing one and Duo got the disturbing vibe that somehow Quatre knew exactly what he was thinking.
"How did I get here?" Duo asked warily. He distinctly remembered passing out underneath a lamppost and not in the comfort of his bed.
"I brought you back," Quatre answered with a nod.
"Yeah, but how did you know where I was?" The thought that this was some kind of set up occurred to him. He reached behind his head, with the pretense of fixing his hair, for the tiny gun he had hidden. His Maxwell special. Something he had created himself. A miniature gun so small it could only hold one bullet.
One bullet was all he needed.
"Your friend called me-"
Duo whipped out the gun faster than the other guy had a chance to blink. Quatre obviously wasn't as smart as he looked. Duo was sure a three year-old could have come up with a more convincing story. One that didn't so blatantly cry out 'liar. liar. pants on fire.'
"I wasn't with a friend that night," he snorted. "Oh, and don't think that because it's small that it won't do any damage. "
Duo waved the gun over the guy's groin as a point.
Quatre looked wary. "Then who's that?" He pointed to the door.
"Pliff, as if I'm going to fall for that," Duo grunted. He suddenly got distracted by the sound of a meow and looked down.
Duo inwardly cursed.
That one second lapse in judgment was all it took. Quatre had streaked across the room and leapt on Duo, wrestling for the gun.
Duo's stomach cramped nauseatingly, his hangover was coming back to bite him in the ass, but he was going to be damn before he let this pretty face bastard get one over on him.
The gun went off and the bullet went through the wall with a loud bang.
The door to the room suddenly burst opened and Duo stopped momentarily to stare.
His eyes weren't on the gun in the guy's hand or the sword that was strapped to his back. Instead, Duo's eyes had locked themselves onto the guy's hair.
That's was his dye. Duo could recognized it anywhere. That shade of purple sparkling strands were unmistakable.
Duo was in the safehouse, in his very own room, after all.
No longer fighting, Duo let his body go limp. He offered Quatre a wide, apologetic grin.
"What's going on?" A cold voice asked.
At the door, joining Duo's purpled hair victim, was a short hair brunette with Prussian colored eyes who looked thoroughly pissed and behind him was a tall, scrawny guy whose visible green eye took everything cautiously in.
Staring from face to face, Duo realized that he had gotten what he wanted. He finally got to meet his housemates. He had finally gotten the attention he wanted. It was a shame that at least two of his housemates looked as though they wanted to riddle his body with bullets.
He heard another meow at his side.
There, looking clean, but ruffled, and more than a bit freaked by the loud commotion, was the friend that Quatre had been talking about.
Now that Duo thought on it, he did remember, vaguely, giving the kitten his cell phone, thinking it was hilarious that the kitten wanted to make a call. The thing must have accidentally dial the number that reached here.
Quatre must have picked up the phone, traced it, and picked him up.
The irony made Duo shake his head and groaned in pain. He heard Quatre mention something about him resting, but everything seemed to faded away as he laid his aching head on the pillow.
He would have fallen asleep if a pair of rough hands hadn't jerked him out of bed.
Snarling, he swung his fist only to have it caught.
The guy with the Prussian eyes stared coldly at him.
"Hey! What's your problem?" Duo demanded to know.
"Get rid of it," the guy ordered. He pointed to the kitten.
Duo felt irritated. "Hell no." Because no one tells Duo Maxwell what he should or shouldn't do.
"Fine," the guy said coolly.
Duo only had a second to savor the victory, before the guy took out his gun and aimed it at the kitten.
...
Usagi felt her fur stand on edge as she stared, cross-eyed, up at the barrel of a gun.
That boy was serious. He would shot her without batting an eyelash. Once again, in less than 48 hours, her life hung in the balance.
Usagi couldn't remember having this much bad luck, even when she was fighting the Youmas.
It was almost enough to make her regret not staying at home.
Home was safe.
Home didn't have a clearly deranged boy, threatening to shoot her. Usagi closed her eyes and whimpered.
At least, she comforted herself, she was going to die with a full stomach. The boy she thought was an angel, Quatre, had not only given her a bath, but he had managed to scrimmage enough things around the kitchen to make her breakfast.
A last meal, Usagi though despairingly. She heard the gun cock and feverously hoped it would be quick and painless.
She let out a whine at the loud crack.
She felt nothing, though. No impact. No pain.
Usagi peeked between her paws, not realizing that she used them to cover her eyes.
The sound she heard wasn't from a bullet flying from a gun, but from a fist hitting a jaw. The boy with the braid, Duo Maxwell, had just up and punched the boy who held the gun. There was a moment of silence before everything went wild. Suddenly, everyone seemed leap without abandonment into the brawl.
Dropping the gun, the boy had slugged Duo back and the two went down in a tangle of limbs and fists.
The boy with the purple hair leaped in, intent on trying to murder Duo himself. And Quatre, bless him, had desperately tried to restore the peace.
"Let's calm down," Quatre said. When an elbow knocked the breath out of him, something seemed to snap inside of the blond. Usagi had to watched with a slack jaw as the rage boiled over and Quatre jumped into the battle with a growling war cry.
The one boy who didn't seem incline to jump in was dragged forcefully into it when the fight rolled over on him, trapping him underneath fist swinging bodies.
Usagi had watched in intrigued dismay from her safe position on the bed as blood, spit, and derogatory comments about mothers (made by Duo) flew by.
Despite all the horrible things that has happen so far, Usagi counted her blessing. Turning into a cat wasn't really all that bad considering the alternatives.
At least she didn't turn into a boy.
When she saw the glint of something that looked like knife, Usagi let out a loud, ear-piercing wail as a warning; her cry efficiently ending the fight like the sound of a bell ending a boxing match. She watched, satisfied, as they came to their senses. The boys separated themselves with growls and glares.
"You have a day to get rid of it," the boy with the gun snarled as he release Duo. He grabbed for his fallen weapon.
One by one they limped out.
"Aw," Duo looked green. He raced over to the wastebasket and vomited. He looked so ill, Usagi couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
"Thanks," he rasped. He gratefully took the towel that Usagi had painstaking dragged from the corner with her teeth.
He used it to blot his bleeding, maybe broken nose, and he collapsed on the bed with a muffed groan.
Heading out the door, Usagi went in search of Quatre.
She pattered out to the hall to the first slightly jarred door and peered in.
The boy with the purple hair hissed in pain as touched his forehead. The large bruise was already turning purple to match his hair. He cursed when he glanced in the mirror, looking at his wound from different angles. When he looked down, Usagi was already there with the ice pack in her mouth. While he was busy staring at his reflection, Usagi had rummaged through the open aid kit by his side, and waited for him to notice her.
"How did...never mind," he abruptly closed his mouth. Taking the pouch, he broke the seal and held it to his forehead with relief.
Usagi left him as he began cursing in Chinese.
Her search for Quatre lead her to the tall boy with green eyes.
He gave her a quiet nod of thanks when she pushed the bottle of peroxide his way.
Thankfully, Usagi managed to avoid the one that wanted to kill her. He had locked himself behind a door. All Usagi could hear were the typing sounds of a computer's keyboard.
By the time she found Quatre, he had already treated his bruises and cuts. He looked happy to see her at least and scooped her into his arms.
They spent the rest of the quiet day watching television in the main living room.