$Hey, cool!  It's about time you posted something.  Didn't you say you
had finished some other works?  Anything the rest of us can see?

Just to show I'm still alive and writing, here's a little teaser (which
might make people wish I had stopped writing)

Mindless Tripe Productions Presents:
Yardwork
(featuring Heero Yui)

	$From your comments about poking dead bodies with sticks instead of
feet, I think I've kinda got an idea of what this is going to be like.

As with all Mindless Tripe Productions, this fic will make a very real
attempt to deal with serious current day issues in an earnest manner.
Gundam
Wing provides the perfect venue to discuss in an intelligent manner such
controversial topics as sexism, racism, free choice, religious
demagoguery,
and the course modern day world governments should take in influencing
the
world. Think of this as a forum, nay, a piece of history in the making
as
ideas at creating a better tomorrow are put forth for deep reflection
for
the reading public, making them question the very values their entire
lives
have been based on.

	$Cute.  But I think your nose is getting longer.

God, you're gullible if you actually believed that.

	$Very.

MTP puts out crap like 'The Top 10 Rejected Gung Ho Guns', and 'Those
Who
Hunt Ninjas'. This particular fic is actually going to deal with married
life in the 'burbs, focusing on the 'perfect soldier' from Wing Gundam,
Heero Yui. The most serious thing discussed will be gardening, which,
though
ordinarily not the sort of thing you would associate with Wing Gundam or
Heero, seemed the perfect topic for Mindless Tripe Productions to deal
with.
God willing, after reading this, you'll never look at doing chores the
same
way again.

	$Yardwork for me usually consisted of pouring used motor oil over any
plant stubborn enough to break through both the concrete and the grease.
But I see your point.

This is going to be my first attempt at Wing Gundam. I'd ask you to be
gentle, but let's face facts, after all I've done, I know better and
deserve
worse.

	$We'll see.

Standard Disclaimer: MTP is proud to declare this a YFZ (Yaoi Free
Zone).
Sorry fangirls, but Heero's straight here. Of course the others, Duo, Wu
Fei, Quatro (or was that Cinco?)

	$Cute.

 and Trowel... Trowy... Chewy... whatshisname with the pointy hair, are
as light on their feet as
participants in a Dorothy Parade held in San Francisco.

	$Heh heh.

 But they don't
appear here, so by definition it's yaoi free.

Oh, yeah, by the way, I don't own the characters herein. They are owned
by
someone else.

All C+C appreciated. You can contact me at sommer@3rdm.net

At Larry F's at:
http://lwf58.tripod.com/fan_fiction/d_b_sommer/index.html

Or R+C books at:
http://dbsommer.rcbooks.org

And also Angcobra is now storing all of my fics, at
http://s5.sexshare.com/~angcobra/dbsommer.html

And on with the show...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A piercing cry shattered the peaceful morning air, the tranquil moment
of
perfect serenity shredded irreparably by a vile cacophony composed of
howls
of anguish that rivaled any suffering in the long ended war. It tore at
the
very basis of the soul and threatened to extinguish hope in the clarion
call
of primal anguish. Or at least that's the way it was perceived to the
subject the sudden burst of noise had assaulted.

	$Mmm hmm.

The raucous din straight from the pits of Hell ended abruptly as the
hand of
Relena Peacecraft slammed into the top of her alarm.

	$I admit, I didn't see that coming.  I honestly thought it was the
family dog, wanting to go for its morning walk.

"Vile cacophony composed of howls of anguish?" she mumbled through a
cottony
mouth as she roused herself from the lingering traces of sleep. Gods
above,
that was terribly melodramatic. And all of that build up for turning off
a
lousy alarm? Frankly, it sounded to her like a standard misdirection
ploy
that talentless hacks, who pompously considered themselves genuine
authors,
would use.

	$Nothing wrong with that.  This isn't War and Peace, anyway.

Though correct, the fact remained it was still a fourth wall
breakthrough.

	$Quite.  What a way to start off the fic.  I'd complain, but I remember
Those who hunt Ninjas all too well.

Since the story was not to be in that vein, however, Relena decided to
abandon that sort of critiquing for the rest of the fic. It would be for
the
best.

	$Bah, I still be a few more show up.  I know your style.

Groggily, she yawned, stretching out and raising her arms to the ceiling
of
her home, located in the peaceful suburbs of Neo New York, the recently
christened capital of the world. She smacked her lips, trying to get the
awful flavor of whatever the horrible tasting substance was that
accumulated
in people's mouths while they slept. It was odd, how merely by leaving
one's
mouth shut and consuming nothing while the slept led to an awful taste
mysteriously forming within it. Where did it come from? She would have
to
ask her spouse his opinion on it.

	$Heero whistles innocently and pulls his shorts back on.

Relena turned her gaze at the person in bed next to her. Her husband of
ten
years, Heero Yui, was already sitting up, wide awake and awaiting his
wife
to fully return to the land of cognizance.

	$Don't like cognizance.  Suggest of the living, or something.

 He held a flat stare as he looked
upon her. It was a look she had seen many times before, that stare of
expectation. Or maybe it was one of lust. Or boredom. Sometimes it was
hard
to tell when it came to Heero. He still hadn't learned the art of
'emoting.'

	$Gotta side with Larry on that one.  He similed once or twice.  Sorta.
One wonders how a poker game between him and Rei would come out if they
were both ordered to win.

"Heero, did you wake up with a funny taste in your mouth?"

"Yes."

She continued blinking the sleep from her eyes. "Why do you think that
is?"

"I would assume it's because right before we went to sleep, you had me
eat
out your-"

	$You're an evil man.  If you tweaked that right, it might add a little
ambiguity by also implying they had fast food for supper.  El Taco Hell
pretty much does the same thing.

"Oh, right. I guess that's why you would have a funny taste in your
mouth."
Relena sighed. Just looking at her husband  sitting up in bed reminded
her

	$Extra space between husband and sitting.

she was in love just as much now as the day when he first spoke to her
at
their school so many years long past. She remembered them like it was
yesterday, those words that won her heart.

"I will kill you"

	$Oh, lord.  Here we go.

It still sent shivers of bliss down her spine.

Most people probably would have been afraid for their continued
existance,
but there was something in the way he had said he was going to end her
life
that had touched her heart and bound her to him forever. It had taken a
long
war, near death experiences in just about every episode,

	$Knew you couldn't resist throwing in another fourth wall joke.

 and the years of
reconstruction afterward to finally complete the ties to each other. It
had
been an unconventional romance, it was true, but they were
unconventional
people, so it was appropriate. She recalled the time they finally
admitted
their love to one another, the day their lives had intertwined and
finally
became complete when she told him...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Damn it, Heero, I'm tired of all this dancing around one another,
putting

	$Dammit or Damnit, generally written as one word.

things off again and again! It's time to stop skirting the issue and
admit
our feelings for one another! Heero Yui, I love you. You love me too,
don't
you?"

"I don't see any reason to kill you anymore. Does that count?"

	$Close enough for government work.

"Yes. That is close enough when it comes to you. So, now that that's

	$Dialog seems a little choppy.  That's close enough when  or  That is
(Possibly with is underscored or in caps for emphasis) close enough,
when

decided, let's get married."

"Why?"

"So that we can live together as husband and wife, and raise a family."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Do you have anything better to do?"

"No. Not really."

"Then it's settled. I order you to propose, then marry me."

"Okay."

	$Sounds a bit like the technique I had the girls use in Needful Things.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was fortunate she had figured out Heero tended to respond to orders
very
well. Part of his upbringing, she supposed. But he was happy. She could
tell, even if others couldn't; she knew him that well. It also made
their
sex life fantastic, since he would perform on command.

	$Kind of like a big, breathing sextoy that walks around and never needs
the batteries changed.  My respect of Relena has just gone up a notch.

 She was the luckiest
woman alive.

She met her husband's expectant...lustful... whatever, gaze with one of
envy. "I can't believe how quickly you wake up."

"I've trained myself so that my internal body clock is accurate to
within
two point one seconds of standard time. Every morning I awaken ten
seconds
before the alarm goes off.

	$Lucky bastard.  I always stare at the damn thing for an hour before it
goes off.

 I am always able to achieve one hundred percent
combat readiness in less than a second."

"Oh."

She gave him a peck on the cheek and got out of bed. He continued to
stare
as she discarded her nightgown and went to the bathroom

	$Heero:  Yep, yep, that's my bitch.
	Relena: Did you say something?
	Heero: No.

 to prepare herself
to face the trails of the day ahead. Once properly cleaned and
refreshed,
she donned one of the elaborate Napoleonic uniforms she wore to work as
an
ambassador at the United World Government's headquarters. The jacket was
hand-woven from the purest silk. It was a shade of azure that matched
the
color of the deep blue sea. Silver buttons and gold trim lined the
outfit,
meshing perfectly with the white pantaloons that billowed slightly
around
her legs. Black leather boots completed the uniform that was the current
style the government was using. The ensemble cost a small fortune, like
the
rest of the outfits in her entire wardrobe. She was one of the people
that
used the government's clothing allowance she received from her job to
the
fullest.

	$Heh.  I can see a few things from the anime stuck out in your mind a
bit.

Heero stood next to her, dressed in a white sleeveless T-shirt, plain
brown
shorts, and gray tennis shoes. He was one of the people that didn't use
the
government's clothing allowance to the fullest.

	$Heh heh.  Nice comparison.

Relena admired the way her husband still filled out his attire. Unlike
some
of his contemporaries, (such as Wu 'Blubberguts" Fei, who had discovered
the
joys of red meat and beer and ballooned to a whopping four hundred
pounds)

	$Well, that and he sat on his ass all day, reading books.  He did want
the life of a scholar.

Heero had stayed in the same shape he had maintained during the war;
somewhat lean, but all wiry muscle. And he was as flexible as an
accordion
too.

	$accordian, too.

 It made for some very interesting bedroom gymnastics, though the first
time she had used that term, Heero misinterpreted it and performed an
elaborate floor exercise for her benefit. He tended to take things a bit
literally. Not that that had stopped her from jumping his bones the
moment
he was finished. And she had ordered him to buy more white tights. Those
were a definite keeper, with that sweet ass of his.

	$*shakes head*

Relena shook her head free of such thoughts; there was no time for a
morning
quickie. She gathered her briefcase and went to her desk. It only took a
moment to grab a sheaf of papers she had finished writing the night
before.
She placed all but one of the appropriate documents within the case. The
remaining paper she handed to Heero. "Here's a list of chores I want you
to
do."

He looked at it, momentarily confused.

Relena released a sigh. "I mean it's your mission profile for today."

"Oh." The look of confusion passed and the flat stare returned.

	$Heh.

Her husband was full of his little eccentricities. She had learned to
deal
with them, though sometimes they were a bit on the trying side.

Heero read the document. "I notice sex isn't on the list, like it
usually
is."

Relena rolled her eyes. "Some of us like to pretend it's spontaneous
every
now and then. For instance, if you were ever struck with the urge to,
say,
rip off my clothes, tie me up, and treat me like your personal bitch,
you
could go ahead and do it. I wouldn't mind in the least." She gave him a
hopeful smile.

Heero continued giving her his flat stare.

	$Which one?

"I suppose it is a bit much to ask," Relena sighed. "I'll add it to the
list
later if I'm in the mood.

	$Perhaps with an 'At some random time in the near future' clause to
make it _seem_ like it was his sudden urge.  Which could prove
inconvienent, not to mention hilarious, if she was busy at a conference
at the time.

 Oh, I also want you to spend some quality time
with Selena."

"I do spend quality time with the girl," Heero responded.

	$I can imagine.

"Daughter, Heero. Refer to her as your daughter." Relena gave yet
another
exasperated sigh. "And when I say quality time, I don't mean teaching
her
unarmed combat techniques, demolition disposal, or how to field strip
pulse
laser rifles."

"We haven't gotten to pulse laser rifles yet. We're still working on
ballistic firearms."

"You know what I mean!" After a moment, Relena added, "Actually, you
probably don't. Look, all I'm asking is for you to do things with her
that
involve a normal childhood."

Heero's flat stare changed to a quizzical one. "That is how I spent my
childhood. I learned all of those things, and you can see how I turned
out;
normal."

"I am so not going there," Relena said dryly.

	$Heh.  Nice.

 "All right, don't worry about
the quality time. Just take care of the list." She gave him another peck
on
the cheek. "I might get home early today. I think I'm wearing down that
moronic appropriations panel. God, I hate that English ambassador. He's
always going out of his way to make problems for me. Sometimes I just
want
to kill him."

"Do you want me to add that to the mission profile?" Heero asked.

Relena found herself seriously considering it. "No. It goes against my
intrinsic pacifistic nature, unfortunately."

"Then you just want me to wound him?"

"Tempting, but I'm afraid I'm still going to pass. I'll just have to
satisfy
myself by outmaneuvering him on the battlefield of politics and
convincing
him to see things my way."

"Try kneeing him in the groin. I've found that tends to get people to
see
things my way."

	$Heero is nothing if not direct.

"Now that's something to consider. Take care." She kissed Heero again,
and
headed out the bedroom door.

"I'll escort you to the hovercar, just in case," Heero said, hovering
protectively near his wife, eyes scanning the stairs in case of ambush.

His actions made Relena's heart flutter. Not that she believed for one
second anyone was going to try to assassinate her,

	$Which has to mean it'll happen.

 she was nowhere near as
important a political figure now as she had been at war's end, but that
he
was so protective reminded her of how much they loved each other.

Once the pair made it to their hovercar --and Heero searched the vehicle
to
make sure no one had attached any bombs to it-- she bid him goodbye and
drove off for work.

Heero watched until her car was out of sight. Once convinced she had
made it
out of their development safely, he turned his attention to his mission
profile. It contained the standard day's parameters he had grown used
to.
Wake and feed the child, clean the house, do the windows, clean the
clothes,
and the other usual things. There was only one curious item that caught
his
eye:

Do yardwork.

That would require a significant amount of time. He mentally calculated
the
most efficient way to complete the tasks set before him. It would
probably
be best to do the yardwork early, after breakfast. He reentered the
house,
intent on waking the gir... his daughter. It had become something of a
morning ritual for them, and he felt it qualified as the sort of
father-daughter bonding Relena seemed insistent he do with the child. He
grabbed a metal bucket, filled it with water, and headed towards her
bedroom.

	$Incidently, he once, at Relena's insistence, read a 'how to' book on
fatherhood that indicated that this was a good tactic, written by one G.
Saotome.

Once outside the door to her room, he paused to examined it. It was just
like all the bedroom doors to the house, oak with a fine fuchsia coating
of
paint to it. He liked fuchsia. If had had his way, his old Gundam Zero
would
have been painted in that color. But his mentor had expressly forbidden
it,
stating he would sooner personally turn the Zero over to Trieze himself
if
Heero even contemplated throwing on that 'garish' style of paint. Heero
obeyed orders, as he was trained to, but it was one of the few times he
had
known the faintest pang of regret.

	$He had once heard Duo and the others make similar complains about
style and color composition for the Gundams.

 Once Relena found out it was his favorite
color, she had allowed him to paint the majority of the interior house
in
fuchsia. It brought that flat stare to his face, the happy one, when he
admired his handiwork.

On the door there was a wooden plaque of Sandrock, which bore the name
'Selena,' hanging on the center of it. The plaque was a sweet little
thing,
or so Relena asserted. Heero thought it unwise to give any potential
enemies
that made it into the house all but a map to where the girl lay, but
Relena
insisted it remain. He supposed it was all right. Besides, anyone that
managed to make it that far would probably have already done sufficient
research to know where the child's bedroom was anyhow. Any one of the
neighbors that had visited and seen the interior of their home could be
abducted and tortured into revealing the layout of the ground and upper
levels of the house. Only the basement remained off limits to any but
immediate family, a stipulation which Relena had accepted from him.

	$The basement...  Hmm.  There are a number of possibilities there.
Guns and stuff most likely, but there is always the possibility that
they keep a Selena's mutant deformed half sister chained up in there and
forced to live on a bucket of fish heads once a week.  One is
exponentially more likely than the other, but then again you've pulled
some fast ones before and surprised me, so I know better than to
completely dismiss the possibility of guns.

Returning his full attention to one of his mission objectives, he looked
at
the door. He gave what passed for an affectionate glance from him; a
flat
stare, at his daughter's bedroom door and promptly kicked it in.

As the door's lock shattered into several of its component parts and
wood
from the frame went flying through the air, Heero drew back and then
forward
with the pail. His timing and aim were flawless as the watery contents
cleared the aperture the instant there was enough room and headed
directly
for the bed.

However, the girl that was supposed to be lying there was no longer in
it.
The instant the Heero's foot made contact with the door, a pair of brown
eyes flew open. In one fluid motion Selena's hand, which had been under
the
pillow, gripped the handle of the object that lay underneath as she
rolled
to the right, kicking the covers high in the air and obscuring her form
as
she flew free of her mattress. The water was still in mid-air as Selena
landed on her feet, crouched behind the side of the bed away from the
door
for cover. The liquid had just hit the mattress as she cooly gripped the
handle of the gun that had been under her pillow and brought it up to
eye
level. Automatically, she maneuvered the rear and front sights into
alignment, perfectly centered on their target: Heero's head.

"Die!" Selena shouted as she snapped off two quick shots in less than a
half
second: the maximum rate of fire possible for the firearm. Both
projectiles
made a direct line for their target, bringing a smile to the shooter's
face.

Faster than the eye could follow, Heero raised the bucket up in front of
his
head. Both projectiles slammed into the side of the pail, the metal
ringing
as each detonated on contact, their impact sending the projectiles'
payload
across the surface of the bucket instead of the flesh of Heero's face.

He lowered the bucket, now covered with pink dye from the paintballs,

	$In my experience with paintballs and paintball guns, the balls very
rarely travel in perfectly straight lines.  Even the good ones.  Settled
paint pigments and manufacturing irregularities make them wobble quite a
bit as they fly.  But that's needless nitpicking.

 and
stared at his daughter. In an even voice he said, "Excellent reflexes,
except for shouting out 'Die!'. You're distracting yourself and
potentially
aiding a possible second attacker into keying into your position. Remain
silent next time."

"Goddammit, Daddy! Why can't you wake me up like a normal father?!"

	$How old is she?  If they've been married ten years.

"Good morning to you too." Heero turned to exit the room, mentally
deciding
what to prepare for breakfast as he grabbed the edge of the door and
swung
it between him and his daughter. The move just preceded the sound of
four
more paintballs impacting it at eye level.

Selena's marksmanship was improving. That knowledge doubled the happy,
flat
stare on his features.


	$Yeah.  That was pretty much what I expected.  So far.  Something tells
me that this 'plot', and I use the term loosely, is about to make a
pretzel turn and come out as something else entirely, though.

	Looking forward to it.


-Ragun

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