21-Oct-2003
Title: The Pig Farmer's Lament: A ficlet (1/1)
Author: Lasha Lee
Email: anakerie@cinci.rr.com
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: A bad word.
Pairing: 2x6
Duo paused at the entrance of the bar, looking around suspiciously before entering.
After determining that that the bar was on Earth, that he was not working at the bar, turning tricks at the bar, or planning on blowing up the bar as part of a mission to kill James Bond, Duo slipped inside and hurried up to the counter.
"One L2 Typhoon." The young man requested wearily. "On second thought, make that six of them."
"Rough week?" Someone asked, sitting down the stool next to him. "I'll have the same as he's having. Put it on my tab."
"Zechs, you look horrible." Duo took in the man's haggard expression and filthy overalls. "Where have you been?"
"Pig farming." Zechs said mournfully, throwing back the first drink "Of all things. PIG farming? Can I ask you something, Duo? In our time knowing each other, have I ever, ever said or done ANYTHING that might give someone the impression that I wanted to be a pig farmer?"
"Not that I can recall." Duo shrugged. "I've been wracking my brains trying to figure out why someone thought it would be a great idea to make me live inside a locker at Yankee stadium and lust after their short-stop Quatre."
"Quatre hates baseball!"
"I know that. You know that. But apparently someone thought that he shouldn't!"
"This has got to stop." Zechs shook his head, downing his third drink. "In the past two months I've been a pirate, a banker, an astrophysicist, a pig farmer, a sleazy politician, a punk-rocker, and the manager of no less than 12 McDonalds!"
"Let's see." Duo began counting on his fingers. "Slave in a desert kingdom, slave to a medieval king, slave to aliens, slave to pirates, a pirate myself, the Queen of England, a hamster, slave to a hamster, a guest-star on CSI, and the whole locker thing."
"So what do we do about it? Isn't there a law against this?" Zechs asked, throwing up his hands in despair. "Sorry."
Duo wiped the L2 Typhoon off his face. "Technically yes, but as long as they admit they don't own us, they can pretty much do whatever they want to us."
"What about more missions? I LIKED missions. I liked blowing things up! I was a good soldier. I was a good soldier, wasn't I, Duo?"
"You were a very good soldier." Duo soothed.
"Then why can't they let me be a soldier?" Zechs began to sob. "Why, Duo? Why??"
"You're asking the wrong person." Duo admitted. "Come on. Let's get out of here. Wanna fuck?"
Zechs brightened. "Now see? That's a wonderful idea. Why can't they AU me into a fic where you and I meet in a bar, complain about our lives, and then go screw like monkeys?"
"I wish I knew." Duo put his arm around Zechs and they staggered toward the door. "I really wish I knew."
The End
(:./lasha/lament)
