05-November-2001
Hentai Mission Gundam Wing
Prologue: Make Love Not War
by Ashura
Challenge details below!
WARNINGS: Extreme silliness, overuse of stereotypes, parody, and
gratuitous yaoi sex.
PAIRINGS: 1x2/2x1, 3x4/4x3, Computer+1
DISCLAIMER: If they ever were mine, surely after this incident, CPS
will come and take them away.
In a dark and dingy room, on a distant space colony, five old men (and one younger, handsome one) sat around a table. It was a secret meeting, a negotiation between the colonies smartest, most dedicated rebel leaders and their arch-nemesis. The fate of the world, of mankind, of total pacifism rested in their wrinkled, arthritic--and in one case titanium--hands.
"Hmph!" said the one with the aforementioned titanium clamp where a hand should have been. "I'll see your power converters, G, and raise you one super vernier rocket!"
"You only have an extra one because your kid stole it off my Deathscythe!" the one with the hook nose and cone-shaped hair retorted, but he took the bet. "That's it. We're running out of things to bet. I call."
The six men--the brightest minds the world had seen in centuries--lay down their cards.
"NO!! It can't be!" Dr. J gasped in disbelief.
"And here I was watching /you/ for cheating," Master O told Professor G, shaking his head sadly.
Treize Khushrenada indulged in an extremely self-satisfied smile. "Well, gentlemen," he said gracefully, "that does seem to be the game. Since I doubt any of you want to raise the stakes any higher?"
The doctors grumbled. No, they did not. Treize smiled again.
"Well then. See that you keep those pilots of yours out of my hair for a month at least. I'll hold you to it."
"Those are the terms," the more honourable of the engineers agreed grudgingly.
"But no more outright attacks on the colonies!" G reminded the Oz leader--he'd had one good hand this game, at least.
Treize inclined his head. "I wouldn't dream of it. I honour my debts. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a war to win. Which should be considerably easier without having to worry about Gundams showing up at inconvenient times. I'll show myself out."
He left. Not a single one of the booby-traps rigged in the super-secret passageway went off around him. Dr. J sighed in disgust.
"All right, fine," he admitted, growling. "So inviting him to negotiate during poker night was a bad idea."
Instructor H smiled. "As long as we have to complete this objective anyway," he suggested, "care for a little wager between friends...?"
Meanwhile, in the safehouse, the pilots were relaxing and enjoying themselves. It was a lavish, expensive safehouse, because somewhere long ago in Quatre's family history, someone had decided to spend a lot of money on it despite the fact no-one intended to live there. They weren't supposed to be staying there, of course, since Quatre was disinherited, but since his father was dead they expected nobody would remember the place existed and show up to catch them. And even if someone did, they had five well-armed Gundams in lieu of rent.
Duo was taking a very long shower, singing Dead Milkmen songs at the top of his lungs, and using up a colony's worth of hot water washing his hair. Wufei was kicking things and chatting about strategy and justice with Heero, who was typing on his laptop and wishing Wufei would go away so he could sneak off and join Duo. Quatre had dragged Trowa off to one of the other rooms and was in the process of making the bed squeak, which nobody objected to because it was his house, and because sometimes there was a gleam in Quatre's eyes (especially where Trowa was concerned) that made one think he wasn't entirely stable and it was just better to let him do as he pleased.
Heero's laptop beeped. He didn't hear it, because he was busy paying attention to how red Wufei's face could get right in the middle of a really good Justice rant.
"BEEP!!!" the laptop said again. Heero ignored it. The laptop shot a jolt of electricity at Heero's arm.
"Itai!!" Heero yelped, and turned his attention back to his computer.
"That's better," it informed him jealously. "Bad enough when you're paying attention to Duo instead of me, but /him/--?"
Wufei considered hitting Heero's over-possessive computer with something hard and solid. Like a broadsword. Or a Gundam. Or maybe a battleship.
"Omae o korosu!" Heero told the computer angrily.
"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty," the computer smirked. "You have a mission, cheese-head, you want to hear the details or not?"
"Heero," Wufei remarked, "I don't remember your computer talking before."
Heero shrugged. "It only does it sometimes." He leveled a Death Glare (tm) at the computer. "What's the mission?"
"It's a secret," the computer crowed in delight.
Wufei wondered if a battleship would do quite enough damage.
"Oh, all right, I'll tell you," the computer said. "But you have to go get the others first. This is a mission for all five of you, from all five of the scientists, and I only want to go over it once!"
Heero seized this golden opportunity for what it was. "I'll get Duo," he told Wufei, "you get Trowa and Quatre."
"I'm giving them twenty minutes," Wufei informed him flatly. "They should be at least ready for a break by then."
Heero tried not to grin. "Perfect."
Forty-five minutes later, four sated, happy pilots and one extremely frustrated one crowded in front of Heero's laptop.
"Okay, spill it," Duo commanded. "What's this mission about?"
The laptop said nothing.
Heero cleared his throat and pointed his gun at the screen.
"Oh, all right," the computer said, pouting. "Though I still don't see what you see in that--" It broke off, thinking better of insulting Duo, because Heero's finger was starting to twitch on the trigger. "Fine, fine, here's the mission. For the next month, you're not to do any fighting. Any of you. You have to team up and win a bet instead."
"A bet?" Duo repeated. The computer ignored him.
"Heero and Duo are one team. Quatre and Trowa are another team." The pilots nodded. They had all expected this, and even if they'd been assigned to other teams they would have found a way around it eventually. "The bet is to see who can have the most sex, the most ways, in the most bizarre locations over the course of that month."
Blood began to spurt randomly from noses. Five pairs of eyes got very, very wide.
"Uh.../excuse/ me??" Quatre blinked big, blue, disbelieving eyes at the computer.
Laptops can't nod, or smirk, otherwise this one would have. "You heard me, loverboy. You and Gumby there have a month to experiment. Play with your fetishes. Invent new ones. Try some different places. Get as creative as you can."
"Oh," said Quatre, the wheels in his twisted little not-entirely-sane mind already spinning away.
"Wait a minute," said Heero, since Duo was still regaining his voice. "You mean my /mission/ is to have sex with Duo?"
The laptop sighed. "Much as it pains me to admit it, yes. Lots of sex. Lots of creative sex."
"And you're sure this is for the good of the colonies?" Heero, however hopeful he was, remained suspicious.
"Look," said the computer, "I'm not an ethicist. I just report these things. The scientists say to pass along the mission profile and tell you to have sex. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not making it up."
"Hn," Heero conceded. It was unlikely that his jealousy-prone computer would voluntarily tell him to spend more time with Duo, after all.
"I have just one question," Wufei interrupted, his face a little green, "though I admit I may not want to know the answer. Where do I fit into all this?"
The computer wished to all the electronic gods and calculator saints that it were possible to grin evilly. And cackle. And maybe rub its hands together, if it had had hands. But alas, all it could do was take great pleasure in telling Wufei, "You get to be the judge!"
A strangled noise that might have been trying very hard to be a word garbled in Wufei's throat.
"Yeah," Duo agreed. "/What/?????"
"Wufei is the judge," the computer repeated. "He has to verify that the rest of you have actually done everything you said you have. Then he tallies the scores up at the end and decides who's the winner."
Wufei began to edge slowly away, even though there was nowhere to go.
"Well, my work here is done," the computer said, quite pleased with itself. It had not only been the centre of attention for several minutes, but it had rendered Duo speechless and scared Wufei half to death. Some days are just productive that way. "You've got tonight to plan. Mission starts tomorrow, 0800 hours."
It shut itself off.
"I don't know," Duo said after a long moment of silence, "if I should be ecstatic or terrified."
Quatre shrugged. "May as well make the most of it," he said with a suspiciously ZERO-system-ish smile.
Owari
THE CHALLENGE:
Oh, I'm sure you can guess.
Write lemons to fit in somewhere with the...er..."bet." This is a good excuse to write weird creative kinky sex. There are no rules except that the pairings remain 1x2/2x1 and 3x4/4x3, otherwise how will poor Wufei know who wins? (You can write him in there too, either as watcher or participant, if you're feeling particularly sadistic. I don't care.) The challenge can go on forever, kinda like the Blanket Scenario, if we want it to. Just have fun with it. That's the idea. Oh, and it'd be nice if when you /do/ write a fic for it, if you mentioned somewhere that it went along with "Hentai Mission Gundam Wing," just so I can keep up with who's writing for it.
Well? Mission accepted?
Ashura
Please send comments to: arcadia@seishinryu.zzn.com