Here's part one. Second part should be out either tomorrow or Saturday. And
apologies in advance to Kichigai, who seems to know me better than I know
myself. If you read the teaser, just skip to the new part. No major changes.


Mindless Tripe Productions Presents:
Yardwork
(featuring Heero Yui)

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.


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

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.

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.

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?) 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. 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.

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

"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.

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

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 they 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.

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

"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-"

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

It still sent shivers of bliss down her spine.

Most people probably would have been afraid for their continued existence,
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, 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
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?"

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

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. 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. 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 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.

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.

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)
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. 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.

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.

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 a flat stare.

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

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

"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. "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. "That's sweet of you to
offer, but 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."

"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, 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.

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 decorating 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. 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.

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 seven-year old 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, 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?!"

"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.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The tantalizing aroma of breakfast filled the kitchen. Heero found himself
admiring his skill at creating a meal high that was high in nutrients and
would help his progeny grow up fit and in perfect health. Assuming she
continued maturing at her current rate, within five years she would be able
to disable any eight standard military trained personnel in a single fight,
and still have enough energy to pilot a mobile suit into battle and emerge
victorious. When it came to more highly trained commandos and their ilk, the
number she could handle all at once would probably drop to three. Relena's
genes seemingly watered Heero's own impressive contributions down, but it
couldn't be helped. Genetics was a part of life he had learned to put up
with long ago.

Heero was forced to wait patiently for an additional ten minutes after the
meal was prepared before his seven-year old daughter chose to appear.
Selena's long, blonde hair was done up in its traditional single braid, one
identical to her 'Cool Uncle Duo's,' a name she had dubbed him with, even if
they weren't related. The amount of time it took for the girl to do such
basic things in making herself 'presentable' for the day was annoying. Her
mother was the same way, taking up to an hour at times before they could go
to some official dinner to meet foreign dignitaries and such. Again, it was
nothing that could be helped. Relena had explained to him that women had to
take ten times longer in the bathroom then men; it was genetic. Heero could
not recall reading that in medical journals, but his spouse was fairly
knowledgeable about such things, and as a woman, she would know.

Selena plopped herself down at the table and in front of her plate. Her eyes
widened and she gave an almost inhumanly wide smile. She picked up a fork
and knife and held them high in triumph. "Oh joy! Scrambled eggs, straight
from their MRE packaging. Powdered milk. And my favorite of all: gruel. Yum,
yum, yummy!"

Heero would have beamed if he knew how. "It's nice to see that you like it
so much."

"Sarcasm, Daddy! Sarcasm!" Selena slammed the fork and knife on the table
top, shaking it from the force of the blow. "Is it too much to ask for a
normal breakfast, like all the other kids get? Maybe you could serve eggs
that aren't two years old and come in a foil covered square? Milk that was
never in something other than liquid form? Maybe even *gasp* some kind of
fresh meat?"

"All perishables. The food we have now is more practical. Not only does it
fill all of your nutritional requirements, but it's easy to transport and
will last months if we come under siege."

"We live in the suburbs! No one lays siege to anyone out here, Goddammit!"
Habit made her grab onto her braid, threatening to pull it out by its roots
in frustration.

Heero looked disapprovingly at the gesture. "You really ought to cut that
hair short and lose the braid. It's too easy for an opponent to grab onto it
and gain an advantage."

Selena looked aghast at the very idea. "Where else would I hide my lock
picks and collapsible stiletto?"

"So that's where you put them. I hadn't considered that. Very ingenious."
Heero gave her a flat stare of approval. "You can keep the hair."

Relieved that her father was not going to press the issue, she returned to
her original argument and pointed at the food at her plate again. "It's just
I don't think it would be too much to ask to have fresher food instead of
this military crap that dates back to the war. Some of us still have
functioning taste buds, you know."

Heero gave her his offended, flat stare. "You're spoiled. I'll have you know
I grew up on food like this and counted myself lucky."

Recognizing what was to come, Selena covered her ears and shouted, "No! I'm
sorry for arguing! I was wrong. Don't start telling me about what it was
like during--"

It was far, far too late as Heero, cast adrift on memories, never even heard
his daughter's plea. "Why, back when I was your age, when we still had
things called wars, there were times when I had to lay low in the middle of
nowhere and ran out of delicious MREs. I'd be forced to run twenty miles
through minus ten degree weather dressed only in a T-shirt and shorts just
to find some tree bark to eat." He sighed. Those were the days. "I didn't
even have any water. I had to melt snow in my mouth to wash the bark down."

"As long as you didn't drink the yellow snow," Selena said acidly.

Heero looked at her curiously. "What was wrong with the yellow snow? It was
the only kind that was flavored. I counted myself lucky when I could find
some."

Having lived with him her entire life, Selena understood her father's sense
of humor. That was to say, she understood he didn't have one. "Ewww! That's
disgusting! You're giving me serious mental scarring here, Daddy."

"Mental scarring's good for you. It builds character. Just look at me."

There was no way she could argue that one. Resigning herself to the fact
that her father would remain unyielding on their breakfast fare, Selena
forced herself to consume it. Each mouthful was about as pleasant as eating
wallpaper paste. Heero did the same.

They were almost finished when Selena said, "Oh, by the way, Jimmy Lopez is
coming over to play with me today. I'm warning you in advance since he's the
first friend I've had that's willing to come over since the last time you
screwed everything up with Tommy Thorton."

Heero looked at her in confusion. "Screwed everything up? I have no idea
what you mean."

"You locked him in a full nelson and mashed his face into the ground,
shouting out, 'Who sent you?' over and over again!"

"When I see some complete stranger furtively looking around my house, I
disable first and interrogate later."

"He was a scrawny seven-year old looking for the bathroom!"

"He could have been a highly trained midget commando that was disguised to
look like a scrawny seven-year old in order to lull us into a false sense of
security." Heero snatched the butter knife thrown at him out of mid-air.
"You're getting faster."

"Just don't !#$% Jimmy's visit up!"

Heero noted that when the girl spoke like that, Relena would tell her to
watch her mouth. That always seemed silly to him; it was obvious from her
choice of words that Selena knew exactly what she was saying.

Heero took another bite of his meal, using the knife that had been thrown at
him. "Very well, just make sure you frisk him before he enters the house."

"Agreed. I'll even be extra careful and look for telltale scars, just in
case he really is a midget commando in disguise."

"That's the idea. Now you're being a good girl."

"No, just a sarcastic one."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sky was clear of clouds and the sun shining brightly as Heero emerged
into the backyard. It was like most of the others in the neighborhood. A
large bed of thick, luxurious, green grass covered the whole area, with only
a small stone patio encroaching on the grassy terrain. A large oak sat near
their next door neighbors' yard on the right, its leaves giving in to the
inevitable approach of autumn and falling in a large circle that encompassed
the span of its branches, decorating the ground in a multi-colored blanket.
A sizable garden sat off to the side, a small distance away from the house.
The yard itself was marked off by a high fence on all sides. That had been
Heero's idea. The barrier that appeared as though it was light wood was
actually a disguised metal with a special plywood sheath that was designed
to throw people off. Its resilience would serve to delay a mass of attackers
momentarily, breaking up a decent rush and allowing Heero to hold them off,
if not repel them outright.

The garden was Relena's idea, and she usually maintained it. She claimed
gardening helped relax her, easing the intense pressures that her job forced
upon her. She also claimed sex relaxed her as well. Heero couldn't figure
out the connection between the two.

He mentally decided the order of the yardwork. Raking the leaves would come
first, the garden would be tended to last. He grabbed a rake from the garage
and headed for the leaves, keeping a close eye to the ground, mindful of any
patches of freshly dug up earth that might indicate a land mine. He hadn't
found any yet, but knowing how fate worked, the only time he didn't check
would be the one time someone managed to plant one while the family was out
of the house.

Reluctantly, Heero admitted that he had a small measure of consternation.
The peace had somehow lasted long enough that even he was in danger of going
a little soft. No one ever seemed interested in attacking him or his family.
There was the one incident with the stranger in the coveralls that had been
lurking around the outside of the house in the middle of the afternoon a
couple of years back. Heero took care of him with a lug wrench applied to
the back of the man's head. He had tied the stranger up, and was just about
to start a little interrogating, when Relena came home and spoiled
everything by identifying him as a water meter man instead of a spy. For
some odd reason, the water company no longer sent anyone by. It made things
frightfully boring.

There was only one bright spot. Selena, bless the little child, still kept
him on his toes, and he returned the favor by doing the same for her. If he
pulled a paintball gun on her, she was quick enough to get out of the way
and counterattack with one of her own, though she did have a bad tendency to
distract herself with cursing him out during the middle of their bonding
sessions. It was a bad habit he was trying to break her of, but having
little success. Kids, he thought with a touch of exasperation.

Heero had started raking the leaves when the telltale sound of someone
moving on the other side of the fence reached his ears. He pretended not to
notice the sound and continued raking, all the while priming his body for
combat. Adrenaline rushed through his system, preparing him for what was to
come. His knuckles whitened with how hard he gripped his tool.

It was easy to identify the sound of someone trying to climb the fence right
next to where Heero stood. The ambushers were clumsy. Now aware of the exact
direction of the attack, he mentally planned his counter. He would plunge
the rake into the first attacker's eyes the moment his head poked over the
top. Then, while his opponent was crying out in pain, Heero would vault over
the fence and take the attack to the enemy. Odds were they would be caught
off guard as they underwent the transition from hunter to prey within two
heartbeats. He would use the rake to disable as many as he could in close
quarters, then pick up one of the fallen weapons and use it against the
remaining personnel that were outside hand-to-hand range. It was the perfect
plan.

A hand made its way to the top and a loud huff of air came from behind the
fence. Whoever it was needed far better training. Even at the age of seven,
Selena could climb four times as fast in far worse conditions and make less
noise in the process.

Heero inconspicuously positioned his rake so that it appeared he was still
intent on piling up the leaves, all the while tensing and preparing to lash
out with it. He could see the brown head of hair cresting the top. Drawing
in his breath, he turned the tines of the rake upward so he could-

"Hidey ho, neighbor." A bespectacled face said in an inhumanly cheery voice
as it peered over the top of the fence.

Heero scowled and released his breath. It was just his next door neighbor,
Ed Flanders. The man was no threat to anything, save Heero's nerves, which
he seemed to dance upon with a jackhammer. It did take Heero a moment to
loosen his grip on the rake. Gouging out the man's eyes with the garden
implement was a tempting thought, given how annoying Flanders was, but
Relena categorically prohibited him from killing anyone without her
approval, save in life and death situations, or if they broke her antique
china. No one touched the china without her approval. Lady Une had come by
for a visit and done so once, taking nothing more than a tiny chip out of
one of the cups when it slipped from her grasp. To anyone else, it would
have been unnoticeable, but not Relena. Even donning her glasses could not
save Une from his spouse's rage. It was the only time Heero could ever
remember drawing back from violence being inflicted on another. It was lucky
for Une Relena was a pacifist, otherwise the outcome could have been worse
for her. Heero wasn't exactly sure how it could have been worse, but he had
faith in his wife and her ingenuity.

Barely able to cling to the top, Flanders gasped out, "Wow! Your fence sure
is mighty high."

"Not high enough."

Either missing or ignoring the meaning behind the remark, Flanders turned
his attention to the sole occupant of the yard and whistled at the size of
the pile of leaves Heero had accumulated. "Looks like you're really hustling
there, Mr. Peacecraft."

Heero replied in an even voice, "My last name is Yui, not Peacecraft. Relena
decided to keep her name due to her high profile and importance in the
government. She said I could keep my maiden name, though."

"Whoa ho! Sounds to me like someone's kept on a short leash."

"Relena only tried that once. She didn't care for it. She said I was already
too obedient for it to turn her on."

"I love that way you fire off jokes by the minute." Flanders gave off his
laugh, a high pitched giggly snort which caused animals to howl in agony and
run away. It tended to have the same effect on people too.

Heero scowled. Flanders annoyed him the way few ever had. There was
something about someone being so unnaturally cheery under any circumstance
that rubbed him wrong. That and he never listened to what a person said.
Relena once told Heero it was because Flanders was the antithesis of what he
was. He was also disappointed when Relena informed him that it was illegal
to kill one's antithesis, no matter how annoying they were.

Flanders, completely unaware of Heero's mental state, said, "Anyway, I just
wanted to ask you if you wanted to come over for a little while and spend
some time with me and the missus."

"That's not in my mission profile." Thankfully.

Flanders dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, to be
truthful, Mr. Peacecraft, we're going to be doing something rather naughty
and we sort of thought we might ask your advice on it. We're kind of nervous
since we've never done this sort of thing before, but since you've been
around, having been a soldier and all and probably have experience, we
thought you might help us out."

Heero felt his heart skip a beat. "You're planning to launch a raid on a
military outpost and want me to help you with the assault?"

"Ah...no."

"Oh." Heero relaxed and went back to raking the leaves. He hated being led
on like that.

Keeping his voice low, Flanders said, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. I would sooner die than yield any secrets. To ensure no others let the
secrets out, I usually kill anyone else that knows about it, including the
person that told me it. Don't listen to what others might tell you. Dead men
never tell any tales."

"Good one!" Flanders laughed again. "You see, the little wifey-pooh has been
feeling very risqu� lately, and she's talked me into going through with
this. Actually we were thinking of playing Scrabble for...money. A penny a
point. Gambling Mr. Peacecraft. Ohh, it sends chills down my spine. I've
never gambled before, with it being a sin and all."

"Actually, I'd say you were gambling with your life right at the moment, and
not doing a very good job of it."

"Ha ho! You sure are a kidder, Mr. Peacecraft."

"My wife tells me I don't have a sense of humor. Everyone agrees."

"Well, I sure think you're funny, Mr. Peacecraft. Those jokes of yours kill
me."

"Hardly. Believe me, you'd know if I killed you."

Flanders nearly lost his grip. "That's great! You could be a stand up
comedian with the way you tell gags. Why, you could be the next Yahoo
Serious."

For a split-second, one of the muscles under the far end of Heero's left
eyebrow twitched slightly.

Ignorant of the tremendous emotional outburst Heero had just exhibited, one
which would have sent even his fellow pilots heading for the hills, Flanders
continued laughing. "What a riot. Anyway, I sure hope you change your mind
about coming over. There'll be an open spot at the table for you. Hidey Ho,
neighbor." Flanders looked down at the ground, then released his hold on the
fence and dropped back down to earth. It was odd, but for a moment, just as
he started to drop, he could have sworn something whisked over his head.
Perhaps it was a low flying bird.

Heero scowled at where his target had been. His reflexes must have been
deteriorating. He hadn't anticipated Flanders releasing his grip when he
did, and the rake missed his head by a hairsbreadth. Duo referred to it as
'Annoying Luck,' meaning the annoying always had luck. Heero found himself
inclined to agree. Although this did settle one thing in his mind; he was
putting barbed wire along the top of the fence, no matter how much Relena
protested.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

It took ten more minutes for Heero to complete his task. He finished raking
the leaves into a pile, then grabbed several lawn trashbags and took them to
the incinerator in his basement. It was good to have an incinerator. One
never knew when one would need to dispose of messy things that could get one
in trouble with the authorities, or worse, one's spouse, if said things were
intact instead of unrecognizable piles of ashes.

Heero had just  finished burning the leaves, and was heading back outside,
when the front doorbell rang. Rather than immediately head to it, he walked
to one of the windows located on the porch close to the front door. Being
careful to stay out of sight, he slid the window up quietly and grabbed a
hand-held periscope he kept nearby for just such occasions, and peered
toward the front door with it.

Using the periscope to get a view of the entire porch, Heero saw that there
were only two people there. It took a moment to identify them as Dolph
Grenlund, a man that lived down the street, and his ten-year old son,
Jean-Claude, who had several bandages around his head and his arm in a
sling. When they had first moved in, Heero had secretly infiltrated their
residence and searched it thoroughly, just in case they were spies sent to
assassinate him or his wife. But their belongings indicated they were just
what they claimed to be, he a high school phys ed instructor, his wife a
computer programmer, and his child a... child. He and Relena had no real
contact with them aside from greeting each other when one couple passed by
the other on the street.

Just in case things were not what they seemed, Heero grabbed an umbrella
from the stand next to the door. It was inconspicuous enough that most
people would never realize how deadly he was with such a common household
item. During the war, he had once incapacitated a whole platoon of OZ
soldiers with only an umbrella. Well, okay, Duo had helped out slightly by
shooting a handful of rounds, no more than a thousand or so, from his
Deathreaper Gundam into their midst, but Heero could have taken them out
with just the umbrella. That he had been shot three times before he had a
chance to get to them just meant it would have taken longer. Being shot was
a hindrance; not an excuse to die, despite what most people claimed.

Heero threw open the door, catching the pair off guard. Dolph quickly
recovered. He brought his full, six foot six, two-hundred and fifty pounds
of chiseled muscle to bear, He stood well over the five six, one-hundred and
fifty pound Heero, and stared down contemptuously at the smaller man.
Slowly, almost as though he was reading lines from a script (quite badly),
he said in a threatening tone, "Little man, are you the father of that
hellion, Selena Peacecraft?"

Heero noted Dolph's voice had a faint accent. "Yes."

"Look at what she did to my son the other day!" Dolph thrust his son
forward.

Heero looked at the boy more closely. He had a bandage over his left eye,
and his arm was in a sling. There were several other bruises where his flesh
poked out of his clothes. That made Heero scowl. "You say she inflicted
these injuries upon him?"

"Yes. She did it yesterday. It took me until today to get him to admit a
little girl did this to him. Now, are you going to do something about it,"
He drew near Heero, easily encroaching on his personal space. "Or must I
break you?"

Heero scowled even more intently. "If what I suspect is true, my daughter
needs to be shown the error of her ways. Would you assist me in this?"

Dolph was surprised by Heero's quick and easy acceptance. He had heard the
little man was some kind of hotshot tough guy, despite being a skinny little
runt. Apparently his reputation was highly overrated, even if it was
painfully obvious Dolph could take him out at will. "Sure, I'll help."

"My thanks." Heero turned his head to shout into the house. "Girl!"

Moments later, Selena appeared, growling, "Goddammit, Daddy, I have a name!
Why don't you... un oh." She caught sight of who was standing in the
doorway. Her attitude shifted immediately as she bowed her head, her whole
body giving off a resigned 'I've been caught being naughty and am in for it
now.'

She stood a handful of feet behind her father. Heero pointed to Jean-Claude.
"Did you do this to him?"

Finding some spine, Relena said defensively. "He's nothing but a bully with
a bad accent that beats up all the younger kids. He told me my thighs were
fat, ran over my foot with his bike, and said he was going to beat me up if
I didn't give him my lunch money. I was just defending myself!"

"That's no excuse, girl. Now tell me exactly what you did to the boy."

Rarely had Selena seen such an intense look coming from her father.
Reluctantly, she said, "When he went to punch me, I gouged him in the eye,
then grabbed his arm in a lock and popped his elbow out of joint. Then I
continued beating him up." She bowed her head and said sincerely, "I'm sorry
for messing up, Daddy."

Heero would have none of it. He said to Dolph, "Here's where I'm going to
need your help."

Dolph nodded his head in agreement.

Heero said to Relena in an authoritative tone, "How many times do I have to
tell you when you go to disable an attacker, especially one that is taller
and stronger than you, you eye gouge first?" He poked Dolph in the eye,
causing the big man to roar in agony. "The pain catches your opponent
off-guard, limits their vision, and gives you an opening as they reflexively
cover their eye. Once the opening is presented, you then go for the knee."
He kicked Dolph in the knee, nearly breaking the joint. The big man
collapsed like a house of cards and began writhing on the ground in pain.
"That neutralizes their mobility, allowing you far more options than simply
disabling their arm would. Observe. You can go for the ribs." Heero sent a
shot into the man's ribs which made him roll the tender area away from his
attacker. "Or back." The point of Heero's foot met the middle of Dolph's
spine. " Or head." The shot to the temple nearly robbed the big man of
consciousness. "You have to quit going for the arm as your second move.
That's a really bad habit you've developed, and it's going to cost you
someday."

"I know, Daddy. I got caught up in the heat of the moment. I won't let it
happen again."

Heero turned to the big man who was moaning in pain on his front porch.
"Thank you for your assistance. I don't know what got into my daughter. Next
time she will disable your son in a proper manner. It was nice meeting you.
Let's get together for lunch sometime." Taking the man's moans for an
agreement, Heero closed the door. That had been a major waste of time. He
had to increase his rate of work and get back on schedule.

He went out to the garage, having to move some pieces of equipment lying
around. To the casual observer, it appeared messy, but there was an
unorthodox organization to it. Heero wasn't sure exactly what that
organization was, but it was there. He moved past a large, halfway completed
piece of machinery, the hum of several running computers hooked up to it
filling the garage.

Some fathers wasted their time by teaching their children how to do useless
things, like how to play sports or fly fishing. It was just so...basic. Now
Heero had the right idea in raising children. The machine was a perfect
example. With it, he was teaching Selena how to fix the sensitive power and
response systems on mobile suits by building one from scratch. While it was
true that there were no known mobile suits around anymore, as Selena was
happy to point out whenever they worked on the system, one never knew when
someone might have found a mostly intact mobile suit in some destroyed
military base in Morocco when he had taken a personal vacation alone a
couple of years ago. And how it just might have found its way into a large
warehouse where it might have been secretly stored on the outskirts of town.
And how, in order to get it functional, he might need a sensitive power and
response system, and someone to help him build the system so they understood
all the intricate details of it just in case something happened to him and
he was unable to use it for some reason. True, there were others who could
operate it, like Duo, Quatre, or the spiky haired guy whose name was
escaping Heero at the moment (Blubberguts was out. He was too big to fit
into the cockpit now), but there was something about Selena flying around in
a mobile suit, terrifying ground troops, blasting other mobile units into
their component parts while sending their pilots to freeze to death in a
vacuum, and threatening to blow herself and her suit up rather than allow it
to be captured, that filled him with... pride of all things. It was most
peculiar, but it felt right to him for some odd reason he couldn't fathom.

It was all just supposition, or so he would claim even if he was tortured.
Though perhaps he should look around and see if he could find a flight suit
in Selena's size...

He shook his mind, clearing it of its useless wanderings. He had a current
mission to perform. He went over to the center of the garage, where his
rider mower lay.

Pulling the green tarp covering it aside, Heero gave a flat stare of
appreciation. Before him was a thing of beauty. He had built the rider mower
from scratch, using parts from his old Gundam's head unit which he had blown
up himself so many years ago. It was fifteen feet long and five feet high,
composed of Gundanium alloy and weighing close to two tons. There was even a
wraparound shield to protect the driver from small arms fire. It had a
fusion reactor, armor plating, a fuel injection system, and its own
self-destruct device to prevent it from falling into enemy hands. He had
wanted to install a chain gun on the side, but Relena expressly forbade it.

His wife wasn't terribly fun at times.

With time still wasting, he began examining the entire machine, making sure
everything was in working order and that no one had tampered with it in any
way. Car bombs (and even mower bombs) were such a useful means of
eliminating problems when one didn't have the time to dispose of said
problems in a more personal fashion.

He was crouched behind the vehicle, almost finished checking it out, when he
heard a footfall near the door that attached the house to the garage. In
less than a second, a pistol was in Heero's hand as he darted his head and
gun over the top of the rider mower, using it for cover as he pointed the
pistol at the intruder.

"Down!" Selena shouted as she tackled a normal-looking boy her age out of
the line of fire, while simultaneously kicking an empty oil can towards the
armed opponent as they ducked under the cover of the power and response
system.

A lesser man would have flinched, but Heero allowed the can to hurtle
towards him without reacting. It went sailing past the right side of his
head, coming close enough to brush against his hair before continuing on to
hit soundly off the garage wall.

Nodding in approval, Heero lowered the gun and placed it back into the
pocket of his shorts. The girl was getting fast. She was quick enough that
if Heero had fired immediately instead of pausing to identify the target,
the boy would have only been wounded instead of dead. In addition, she had
employed the best possible counter-attack she could manage with the tools at
hand.

Selena removed herself from on top of the young boy, whom she had
instinctively shielded from harm with her body. "Goddamnit, Daddy! I
specifically told you I was having a friend over and to not screw things up!
Now look what you did!"

"What did I do?"

"You pointed a gun at Jimmy!"

"So? People pointed guns at me all the time, and I never felt offended."

"They pointed guns at you because you had a bad tendency to kill them in
large numbers and they knew it. I know if I had been on the other side and
captured you, I'd have shot you on sight."

"Smart girl. If you had been with Trieze, he probably would have won the
war."

"You're missing the point. Sticking guns in people's faces is rude and
wrong."

"Your mother seems to think it's a sign of affection and sexual interest."

"I am so not going there," Selena spat in disgust.

Jimmy's initial look of fear was replaced by one of awe as he turned his
gaze upon Heero. "Wow! That was great! Most parents just say 'hi'. I've
never had anyone point a fake gun at me. I loved it!"

Selena looked at her friend in disbelief, then rolled her eyes. She walked
over to her father and held out her hand. "Daddy, gun."

He handed her the pistol.

She examined it briefly, then aimed at the bullet-riddled silhouette target,
shaped like a person, attached to the far wall of the garage. She fired a
single round. A deafening crack filled the garage as the bullet slammed
home, hitting the silhouette squarely in the head. She handed the gun back
to her father and looked expectedly at Jimmy.

"Wow! That's even better! I've never had anyone point a real gun at me
before. You've got a cool dad," he informed Selena.

The statement made her indignant. "No, I don't! He's stupid. All he does is
act like we're preparing for a war. Instead of playing with me like a normal
dad, he teaches me how to do things like shooting firearms, setting
explosives, engaging in extensive hand-to-hand combat, using field surgery,
and repairing complicated computer equipment. Sometimes he makes me do it
with one hand tied behind my back in case one of my arms ends up
immobilized."

Jimmy whistled. "That sounds really neat. All my dad did was teach me how to
play baseball and football, and I don't even like sports, except bowling."

"Bowling's a pastime, not a sport. It's just like race car driving and
miniature golf," Heero stated.

Selena turned defensive as she pleaded to Jimmy, "But don't you want me to
learn stuff like normal girls do and be feminine? Things like cooking and
dancing and sewing?"

"I taught you how to sew," Heero pointed out.

"You taught me how to stitch myself up if someone stabs me!"

"Better than bleeding to death," Heero defended. "And what did you tell me
happened when you dislocated your elbow playing kickball last month? You
reset it right there and kept playing, scoring the winning run for your
team."

Jimmy looked on Selena in awe. "You did that? Wow! That's really cool.
You're way neater than any of the other girls at school!"

Selena's face turned a bright shade of crimson. Suddenly finding the floor
more fascinating than her guest, she mumbled, "Do you really think so?"

"Definitely. You're the neatest girl I've ever met. I'm really glad you
invited me over."

Shame and doubt turned to open pride. "Why don't I show you our basement,
then? Daddy dug an escape tunnel that leads to the next street in case
someone storms our home and he can't repel the attackers. He even has
charges set so the house will collapse in on itself, taking as many of the
enemy as we can and hiding our escape. I helped him set up the explosives,"
she bragged.

"Awesome. I wish I had a dad just like yours," Jimmy said as he let Selena
escort him from the garage.

Right before she made it inside the house, Heero quietly said, "Selena."

She turned, unnoticed by Jimmy who continued on, looking for the door to the
basement. "Yes, Daddy?"

"I like him. He can come over any time from now on."

Selena's eyes bulged so far they nearly fell out of her head. Her father
never invited anyone to the house. Even his friends invited themselves over,
rather than being asked. She doubted he knew how to spell the word,
'hospitality.' But to have him not only approve, but encourage her to have a
guest nearly caused all of her seven-year old brain cells to fuse together.
"Thank you, Daddy." They were the most sincere words that passed from her
mouth all day.

In response, Heero returned to examining the engine of the rider mower.

A voice from the basement called out, "What's this red button next to the
furnace do?"

"Don't touch it! That sets off the explosives!" Selena ran as fast as she
could to the stairway leading downstairs.

Behind his mower, Heero smiled. Not eight years old and the boy already
wanted to blow things up. Such a nice child. He hoped someday when the
gir... his daughter got older she found someone as normal and stable as
Jimmy to settle down with.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

End part 1










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