Coming Home for Christmas (Gundam Wing, 6x2, 13x6)
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Title: Coming Home for Christmas (1/?)
Requested by: Karina
Pairing: 6x2, 13x6
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own. No sue!
December A.C 197:
He’d never been a fan of the holiday season, even long before this latest bout of seasonal torture. That he’d kicked the Earth and the colonies toward peace on Christmas day was purely incidental. Probably Treize had meant it all along but Milliardo had barely noted that date. He wished now, trudging up the final set of stairs to his loft, for those days of blissful ignorance. The world had gone mad with the season. There were hundreds of commemorative events going on all over the planet and today it had seemed that he was in charge of overseeing all of them.
Oh, he knew he shouldn’t complain but just organising the security arrangements for his sister’s gala ball was threatening to do what the whole war had failed to achieve - he’d already found a grey hair in his golden mane. A nice, quiet weekend sounded like bliss at that moment. Nothing to cause him extra hassle except perhaps finding the cash to pay the pizza boy, and even that could be handled by the preventer issued credit card in his ass pocket.
“Pizza.” He groaned softly, baritone echoing softly off the stairwell walls, “Bad movies. Bed.” Weariness tugged right down to his bones, “In that order.”
The mantra that kept his feet moving was interrupted by the delicate strains of Aqua’s classic ‘Barbie Girl’. It took a moment of fumbling to locate his phone and shut off the irritating music.
He was going to neuter Duo Maxwell the next time he found his idiot lover playing with his phone.
“:Brother! How on Earth could you be so cruel to your own flesh and blood?!:”
“Hello Relena.”
“:Yes, hello to you too. Now answer me!:”
“If I had even the foggiest idea of what you were talking about, I would.” Zechs sighed heavily on reaching his door, glaring at the wooden barrier to peace and warmth as he fished around in his coat for his key card.
“:Heero, Zechs. You’ve removed him from my protection detail!:”
Some days, like this one, he longed for the simplicity of a mobile suit battle. He longed for the freedom of flight, its possibilities and the adrenaline -
“:-Are you listening to me brother?!:”
Relena’s demanding voice snapped him back to reality with a jolt.
“One cannot help but hear you, sister.” The Sahara could not have been drier.
“:Well?:”
“Agent Wing was removed at his own request.” Success finally favoured him, the key card appearing in a pocket he did not recall even having used before. Respite was promised in the soft beep of the electronic lock.
“:What is that supposed to mean?:” Relena snapped. He tried hard to neither smirk nor sigh.
“It means,” He paused for a moment in the doorway to allow his retina to be scanned, shutting off the alarm before it could alert anyone to a break in. “That you should ask Heero why he’s not on your protection detail.”
His heavy coat swung against the cheap magnolia walls as he hung it up on his trudging way into the living room, and froze in the doorway. Relena was screeching something in his ear, the rain had just started hammering against the windows and a dead man was sitting on his sofa, drinking tea from his best china as though the movers had installed him there with the rest of the furniture.
“I’ve got to go, Relena.” He must have sounded odd to her, because he thought he heard a questioning tone in her voice as he cut her off.
The dead man smiled up at him charmingly and offered him a steaming cup of tea he already knew would be made perfectly to his tastes. After a long, tense moment he moved to accept it with trembling hands.
“Treize?” It had been decades since his voice had last been that high pitched, but the red head on his sofa only seemed amused by his surprise.
“Long day, Milliardo?”
Title: Coming Home for Christmas (1/?)
Requested by: Karina
Pairing: 6x2, 13x6
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own. No sue!
December A.C 197:
He’d never been a fan of the holiday season, even long before this latest bout of seasonal torture. That he’d kicked the Earth and the colonies toward peace on Christmas day was purely incidental. Probably Treize had meant it all along but Milliardo had barely noted that date. He wished now, trudging up the final set of stairs to his loft, for those days of blissful ignorance. The world had gone mad with the season. There were hundreds of commemorative events going on all over the planet and today it had seemed that he was in charge of overseeing all of them.
Oh, he knew he shouldn’t complain but just organising the security arrangements for his sister’s gala ball was threatening to do what the whole war had failed to achieve - he’d already found a grey hair in his golden mane. A nice, quiet weekend sounded like bliss at that moment. Nothing to cause him extra hassle except perhaps finding the cash to pay the pizza boy, and even that could be handled by the preventer issued credit card in his ass pocket.
“Pizza.” He groaned softly, baritone echoing softly off the stairwell walls, “Bad movies. Bed.” Weariness tugged right down to his bones, “In that order.”
The mantra that kept his feet moving was interrupted by the delicate strains of Aqua’s classic ‘Barbie Girl’. It took a moment of fumbling to locate his phone and shut off the irritating music.
He was going to neuter Duo Maxwell the next time he found his idiot lover playing with his phone.
“:Brother! How on Earth could you be so cruel to your own flesh and blood?!:”
“Hello Relena.”
“:Yes, hello to you too. Now answer me!:”
“If I had even the foggiest idea of what you were talking about, I would.” Zechs sighed heavily on reaching his door, glaring at the wooden barrier to peace and warmth as he fished around in his coat for his key card.
“:Heero, Zechs. You’ve removed him from my protection detail!:”
Some days, like this one, he longed for the simplicity of a mobile suit battle. He longed for the freedom of flight, its possibilities and the adrenaline -
“:-Are you listening to me brother?!:”
Relena’s demanding voice snapped him back to reality with a jolt.
“One cannot help but hear you, sister.” The Sahara could not have been drier.
“:Well?:”
“Agent Wing was removed at his own request.” Success finally favoured him, the key card appearing in a pocket he did not recall even having used before. Respite was promised in the soft beep of the electronic lock.
“:What is that supposed to mean?:” Relena snapped. He tried hard to neither smirk nor sigh.
“It means,” He paused for a moment in the doorway to allow his retina to be scanned, shutting off the alarm before it could alert anyone to a break in. “That you should ask Heero why he’s not on your protection detail.”
His heavy coat swung against the cheap magnolia walls as he hung it up on his trudging way into the living room, and froze in the doorway. Relena was screeching something in his ear, the rain had just started hammering against the windows and a dead man was sitting on his sofa, drinking tea from his best china as though the movers had installed him there with the rest of the furniture.
“I’ve got to go, Relena.” He must have sounded odd to her, because he thought he heard a questioning tone in her voice as he cut her off.
The dead man smiled up at him charmingly and offered him a steaming cup of tea he already knew would be made perfectly to his tastes. After a long, tense moment he moved to accept it with trembling hands.
“Treize?” It had been decades since his voice had last been that high pitched, but the red head on his sofa only seemed amused by his surprise.
“Long day, Milliardo?”