This is a hugely horribly hideously belated anniversary (of her fantabulous site) gift for DACIA--the amazing webmistress behind raygunworks.net. VISIT HER SITE!

by: Zillie
warnings: short, probably OOC, a little on the darker side. Yaoi leanings. Duo POV.
please enjoy it!

[ note: this was meant to be a multi-part fic, but... it might just stop here. ]

Ten things about bathtubs

Hilde was always big on making lists. "You've got to be more organized!" she'd tell me. "You're a terrorist, for god's sake! The fate of the colonies depends on you!" I never listened. No, that's not exactly true. I listened and I meant and I had good intentions, but I never quite got around to it. I think that sums up my relationship with her pretty well.

After the shuttle crash I started to make lists. Compulsively, some might say. Hilde would have laughed. After all, the war was over. I was an ordinary teenager, albeit one with an extraordinary weekend job. I went to school and I came home to the apartment I shared with my former partner and I made more and more lists. About anything. To do lists, sure. Lists of reasons for things and lists of memories and lists of the people I'd killed and lists of the dreams I started to have about-yeah. A lot of lists.

The first amazing thing about bathtubs-god, that sounds so dumb. So dumb. But I promised her I'd get organized eventually, and I'm going to. Work my way through my life-make a list for everything. When I'm done. . . hell. I'll probably fold my lists up into a thousand paper cranes. That's going to be just as useful as these lists.

To do: Tuesday.

Get up.

Take shower. Use extra conditioner, esp. on ends. They've been dry lately.

Get dressed. Don't forget tie to school uniform; to rag Heero for picking out a school that has a uniform; to think of arguments against his 'it was the best school within a reasonable distance of Preventers headquarters' argument-the uniform thing sucks. Don't forget to insert an appropriate amount of jollity into the conversation-he takes things so seriously. And do not, under any circumstances, tell him that you think the uniform color brings out his eyes.

Grab breakfast bar. Make face at Heero as he spouts off about breakfast being the most important meal of the day. Try to eat at least half of it; try to make sure that he thinks you ate the entire thing.

Walk to school. Wave hi to Mrs. Perkins and ask about her dog's rheumatism. Poor old lady; I don't think anyone else ever talks to her. Offer to take dog for walk some afternoon. That'd be cool. Dream about having a dog someday.

Get to school. Go to classes. Eat lunch with Heero if you can find him; if you can't, choke down school food as quickly as possible and then escape to the library. Email Trowa and Quatre-don't let it slip how jealous you are of what they have, and how cynical you are about teenage relationships. Under no circumstances let it slip that you want something along those lines. . . . . . . Email Wufei. Make sure to make fun of him at least four times in the conversation so he doesn't worry. Start to email Hilde-remember three lines in that she's been dead for four months. Cancel the email. Go to class. Walk home from school. Avoid making eye contact with classmates- they might start asking you to play basketball again. If they do ask don't tell them the truth-tell them that you're tired or something like that. Not that you can't stand it anymore. Never never never let it slip that Duo Maxwell can barely stomach a little friendliness. A little competition. Never never never let it show that you'd be more comfortable blowing them away than playing with them. The war's over, Maxwell.

Remind yourself of this as you walk home.

Go home.

Feel a surge of dread as you walk into the empty apartment. Check the board to see where Heero is-playing basketball, probably, or with the computer club or the Preventers or some other group of people. No doubt they adore him. Feel a slight sense of shock that you've reached the time when Heero Yuy is more social than you are. Tell yourself you're not unhappy. Tell yourself you're not depressed.

Make dinner. Eat it by yourself, by turns shoveling and dawdling, torn between the hope that you won't have to make conversation with him when all you want to do is hide and the longing to be with him. Tell yourself it's normal to feel this way about someone you've been through so much with.

Under no circumstances allow yourself to admit to yourself that you're lying.

Go online. Check for email. Hilde is dead so there is none; everyone else takes time to respond to theirs. Think about writing more to Quatre or Trowa or Wufei or even Sally, Zechs maybe. Be too tired to do it. Jerk off to internet porn and then start homework. Do math first, then science. Easy. Out of the way. Try to remember to write out the work even though you can do it in your head. They like it better when they can see what you're thinking. Mock yourself when you realize that this applies to the way you live your everyday life.

Don't think about the fact that Hilde is dead.

Don't think about the fact that Heero Yuy has a date this weekend.

Don't think about the fact that Quatre and Trowa are wearing matching commitment rings.

Try not to think about anything.

Go back online and jerk off again. Internet porn is a wonderful thing.

Finish homework. English. Write something about the thing you feel the best about now that the war's over. Wonder if the fucking teacher had you and Heero in mind when she came up with the assignment. Decide what to write about.

Begin.

Don't think about the fact that it's nine thirty and the boy that you're in love with hasn't come home yet.

Just make the list and then go to sleep.

Ten Things About Bathtubs, by Duo Maxwell.

The first amazing thing about bathtubs is the way you feel when you step into them. During the war we used to have to use a lot of portable showers. When we were lucky. In the Gundams there was a small personal hygiene device, for those times when you were trapped inside for days at a time. You really start to smell after the second day, but that doesn't matter. The part that sucks is that you can't stretch out your legs, can't move a significant amount. When you step into a bathtub it's almost like stepping into zero g again, only when you're in water it shapes to fit your body. There aren't many things in the world that give way to fit you. This is the first reason that I think bathtubs are my favorite thing in this time of peace.

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