What's In A Braid?
Rating: G
Warnings: Unmitigated fluff!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I'm making no money, I have no life... waitaminute...
"Roommates, huh?" Duo dropped his duffle bag on the unclaimed bed and grinned. "This will be an experience! I thought you always roomed alone?"
Heero shot the braided boy a glare and turned back to his laptop without comment. Not that Duo expected a response, or needed one. "So what was it, hm? No singles available? Or did you finally fall for my irresistible charm and good looks?"
"Shut up, Duo."
"Yes! We have vocalization! And the fans go wild!"
Heero found himself staring with a sort of fatal fascination as Duo did a victory dance around the small room, complete with muffled immitation of a cheering crowd. "Baka," he muttered, and turned back to his laptop. There had to be a way to get them two singles. Had to. He'd kill the other pilot otherwise.
Duo gave up the cheer routine, mostly because it was no longer getting a reaction. "If you're gunna be on the computer, I'm taking a shower, ok?" After a pause to determine whether Heero's non-response was agreement or protest, Duo began pulling shower supplies ouf of his duffle bag. Then, whistling some tune mangled beyond all recognition, he sat down on his bed, fingers plucking nimbly at his braid.
A small dart came free of the chestnut mane and was dropped on the nightstand, quickly followed by two more. Pretending disinterest, Heero admitted to himself that he was rather impressed. Clever trick that, and he'd bet the darts were all treated with tranquilizers. After a moment digging, a set of lockpicks joined the darts, and Heero almost smiled. Duo could actually show some sense!
Then his jaw almost dropped; how had the boy hidden a Derringer in his hair? Looking closer, he realized that the thick base of Duo's braid seemed rather loose and flat now. The Japanese boy narrowed his eyes slightly; Duo was still digging through his braid!
Five throwing knives joined the growing arsenal, and then ... it couldn't be... a length of garrot wire? A multi-use pocket knife was next, then a butterfly knife. Now Heero was eyeing Duo warily. He couldn't possibly have anything else tucked in there! But he hadn't stopped probing yet. After a moment, a pen dropped onto the pile, a sheet of paper wrapped tight around it. Finally, with a triumphant "A-ha!" the boy pulled an odd black lump out.
He was about to drop it with the rest when he caught Heero's nonplussed expression. Or as close to a nonplussed expression as he could get. With a slightly embarrassed grin, he tossed the item to the other pilot.
A plastic chibi-death keychain stared up at Heero, happy grin on it's skeleton face, red eyes hooded by black robe, even a tiny - though slightly bent - scythe in one hand. He studied the toy, then looked back at Duo.
After a minute of the silent stare - no threatening intonation of his name, no omae o korosu, not even a baka! - Duo started to squirm . Ducking his head a bit, one hand picking at the partially-unravelled braid, he muttered, "I thought it was cute, okay?" When Heero still didn't respond, the American sighed, grabbed his supplies, and hastily retreated to the bathroom. For a moment Heero's gazed at the door, then the weapons on the nightstand, then the toy in his hand. He allowed himself a brief, small smirk and shook his head.
"Baka."
GW Fanfiction