The Drink Mixer of the Darkside

In honor of the Songfic Wank, I will now bore you with the only songfic I ever wrote.

Fandom: Gundam Wing (aka Angsty Bishonen Have teh Kewlest Mobile Suits)
Song: Break Stuff, by Limp Bizkit
Pairings: Fuck you
Notes: No beta, critique welcome; "Peacemillion" is a space-faring ship

There is no cycle of days in space, though most of the individuals there keep to a relative day system based upon who they have the most interaction with. Peacemillion is an anomaly, though; trading through space with such a wide variety of mysterious "Sweeper" organizations, the inhabitants of Peacemillion have taken to shift-sleeping, an arrangement that also allows for rapid responses and more thorough repairs on all of the Gundam suits currently hidden within its bays. Through some sort of unspoken agreement, though, the five Gundam pilots began rising and going to sleep at the same point, sharing their meals in one of the smaller kitchen and dining areas. Past experience had proven that Trowa is the best cook of the lot, that Heero is a close second and that Wufei makes a surprisingly close third. Duo's concoctions, though warm, tend toward the bland. Quatre skill is still in dispute, however, as he seems content to confine himself to setting out, retrieving, and cleaning dishes.

It is the morning after the first battle with OZ and White Fang, but everyone still manages to stumble out of bed and reach their communal living space with some amount of skill. Trowa is the first in the kitchen to turn on a burner, so the rest settle blearily on folding chairs as they arrive and offer the occasional extra hand. Quatre manages the tea and coffee supply while Trowa begins to crack eggs and add various spices, vegetables, and dairy products to the bowl. A pan heats slowly next to his elbow. Wufei corners the potatoes, though he's taking his time this morning - favoring the left wrist he sprained yesterday. Heero breaks out the batter and begins adding ingredients.

The first words of the morning are Duo's, the last to arrive. Still dressed in black sweats, he slumps onto the last - and most uncomfortable - chair with a muttered, "It's just one of those days when ya don't wanna wake up." For his trouble he receives a raised eyebrow, a smirk, a frown, and a sleepy chuckle. This meager offering, though, seems to wake him up a bit more, and he adds, "Everything is fucked, everybody sucks. You don't really know why..."

"...but you wanna justify rippin' someone's head off," Heero adds, no inflection in his voice. He could be reading off the list of ingredients on the box in his hand. Through the open door, voices can be heard as one of the Sweeper sets starts down the hallway.

Wufei abandons his knife to close the door, loosing his control over the hash brown to Duo in the process. He growls, closing the door with a sharp click and rounding on Duo, "No human contact, and if you interact your life is on contract."

Cheerfully, Duo replies, "Your best bet is to stay away mother fucker!" and brandishes the knife to keep Wufei at bay.

"It's just one of those days!" Quatre adds, rolling his eyes and snatching the knife out of Duo's hand. He grabs a second cutting board, sweeps half the potatoes onto it, and hands out the knives again, settling Wufei on the other side of the second table, far from a somewhat crestfallen Duo.

"It's all about the he said she said bullshit." Trowa joins in, now, the slight curve of his lips and upward tilt of his eyes showing his amusement. "I think you better quit lettin' shit slip," he continues, glancing at Duo, "or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip."

"It's all about the he said she said bullshit," agrees Duo, happily cutting his potatoes into wildly different sizes and shapes, earning glares from the more fastidious in the room.

Wufei's potato cutting becomes swifter but no less erratic, and he adds on the tail of Duo's last word, "I think you better quit talkin' that shit."

Quatre groans, sinking back into his chair and closing his eyes. He mutters to the ceiling, "It's just one of those days, feelin' like a freight train," then adds, louder, "First one to complain leaves with a blood stain."

Duo salutes him with his knife. "Damn right I'm a maniac!"

"You better watch your back, cuz I'm fuckin' up your program," Heero adds as he snatches the knife out of Duo's hand. The bowl with batter, eggs, oil, and milk take its place, and Heero takes over cutting the potatoes; he also manages to repair much of the damage Duo had done. Duo, meanwhile, begins to sulkily stir.

Crackling fills the room as Trowa pours his egg mixture into the hot pan. "And if you're stuck up, you just lucked up," he glances at Wufei - who is quite deliberately not concealing his glee at Duo's comeuppance, "next in line to get fucked up."

"Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker!" Quatre adds, earning him surprised looks from most of the room. He rests a hand on Wufei's shoulder briefly, baps the back of Duo's head lightly, taking time to retrieve the chopped potatoes from both of them. A second burner is started, a second pan is placed, and the hash browns begin to cook.

"It's just one of those days!" Duo moans, mixing the pancake batter into liquid submission.

"It's all about the he said she said bullshit." Heero smirks at the defeated Duo, throwing his own words back in his face. "I think you better quit lettin' shit slip, or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip."

"It's all about the he said she said bullshit," Wufei adds, less cheerfully. "I think you better quit talkin' that shit, punk."

Duo half rises, "So come and get it."

Quatre, on the way back to his seat between the two combatants, presses Duo back down into his chair. He adds, his voice a pitch that makes the hackle's on his friends rise, "I feel like shit. My suggestion is to keep your distance." He glances from annoyed Wufei to belligerent Duo, and continues, "'Cuz right now I'm dangerous."

"We've all felt like shit," Duo argues, "and been treated like shit. All those motherfuckers, they want to step up?"

"I hope ya know, I pack a chainsaw. I'll skin your ass raw." Wufei's voice rises slightly, but diffidence (and a slight amount of fear) of Quatre keeps him in his seat. "And if my day keeps going this way, I just might break something tonight."

Duo returns look for look and tone for tone, his voice slicing past Quatre, aimed directly back at Wufei. "I hope ya know, I pack a chainsaw. I'll skin your ass raw." He slumps a little in his chair, setting the thoroughly mixed pancake batter next to him in disgust. "And if my day keeps going this way, I just might break something tonight."

Trowa abandons his eggs for a second to retreive the batter and begin making pancakes. His voice is mocking as he says to Duo and Wufei over the batter bowl, "I pack a chainsaw. I'll skin your ass raw. And if my day keeps going this way I just might break your fuckin' face tonight." He rests his free hand briefly on the arm of an increasingly annoyed Quatre.

"Give me something to break," snarls Heero, rising with undue force. He glares at the rest of them, demanding, "Just give me something to break."

"How 'bout your fuckin' face?" Duo returns, with as much violence.

"I hope you know I pack a chainsaw." Heero steps forward, meeting Duo glare for glare. Wufei seems slightly surprised at the sudden calm-to-explosive nature of the looming pilot.

"What?" asks Quatre, as startled as Wufei by this sudden change of opponent.

"A chainsaw." Heero's eyes flash to Quatre, who begins to get the slightest smile on his face.

"What?" Wufei asks, this time, picking up the annoyance Quatre just lost.

"A mutherfuckin' chainsaw," Heero explains again, ever patient. Duo is taking up the slack in terms of confusion; caught in a half crouch as he began to rise to meet Heero's violence, only to find it deflected.

"What?" he asks, finally.

"So come and get it," Trowa adds in, sliding a plate of eggs and a pile of pancakes onto the left table, in between Heero and Duo. Quatre adds a second pile of pancakes and the hash browns on the table that had been between Wufei and him, before he moved. Clearly, some sort of detente is required.

"It's all about the he said she said bullshit," Trowa says, almost cheerfully, as he pulls a stool over to Wufei and Quatre's table. "I think you better quit lettin' shit slip, or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip."

"It's all about the he said she said bullshit," Duo says, with resigned good humor.

Quatre finishes the whole mess with a well placed, "I think you better quit talkin' that shit." He flashes a grin at Duo. "So come and get it."