Author: KatiKat

Warning: AU, really really bad humor *sweatdrops*

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: 1+2, 3+4

Archives: KatiKat and Friends

Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply here.

Notes: Yes, I'm still alive. Not dead. I ran into a major writer's block in the GW fandom. This is just a teaser to jump start my muse (or to kick her in the butt ^_^). And don't ask me, where this idea popped up from. I think I saw the promo to Six Feet Under one time too many *sweatdrops*

High Tolerance to Weirdness Teaser

'Hot M/28/165cm, used to work with people is LF a tough M/26 and up. High tolerance to weirdness preferred.'

~*~

"What's this?" Duo exploded through the door to Quatre's office. Like a spring storm, he breezed through the room and threw a folded newspaper on his blond friend's cluttered desk.

"Huh?" answered Quatre dumbly, blinked, then looked down at the bright red circle in the middle of the page. "Oh, that. That's a personal ad."

Duo leaned across the table, his handsome face set into a dark scowl. "Don't get smart with me, blondie!" he snapped, then pressed his index finger right in the middle of the circle. "You're the one who posted it, right?"

"Well, we only had your best interests in mind."

"We?" Duo interrupted his friend, straightened and threw his arms up in the air. "So Trowa is in on it, too?"

"Of course he is." This time it was Quatre who scowled as if he was kind of miffed by the thought that he could do something behind his love's back.

"Of course he is," Duo repeated. He glared at his friend for a moment, then slumped into the guest chair like a deflated balloon. "But why, for pete's sake? Do you hate me that much?"

"Hate you?" Quatre almost squealed. "Duo, you know that's not true. We love you and it pains us to see you all alone."

"And you think that a personal ad can change that?" Duo raised his eyebrow dubiously.

"In my case, it did help," the blond man answered, a dreamy look settling into his eyes like every time he thought about his tall, dark and handsome.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but your case is one in a million. How many accountants would likely get together with a trapeze artist?"

Quatre leaned forward and propped his chin on his intertwined fingers. "You could get lucky, too."

Duo snorted. "Yeah, well, with an ad like this, I wouldn't be surprised if some bald headed biker with a ring through his nose would call me and ask for a quickie in the bathroom of a metal bar."

"It's not that bad," Quatre protested.

Duo's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Not so bad? Did you have to write that I'm only 165 centimeters tall? And 'used to working with people'? What am I? An entertainer? For pete's sake, I own a funeral home, Quatre. A *FUNERAL HOME*! The only people I get in touch with are DEAD!!!" he yelled.

"So, what should I have written? 'Short sexton is looking for someone to spend some quality time with'? The first caller would ask you if he could bring his dead grandma to you!" Quatre yelled back.

They glared at each other for some time.

"How did you find about it anyway?"

"Hilde. My dear secretary brought me the huge pile of responses for the HOT MALE from the ad. I think she's still laughing about it now." He looked at his friend through his bangs. "You do know that I'll never hear the end of it?"

Quatre smiled, obviously pleased with himself. "Already so many answered it? You're popular, Duo."

The longhaired man glared again. "I have absolutely NO intention of going out with any of them."

Quatre smiled even more brightly. "You never know, Duo. You never know."

"I hate you, you know?"

This time the blond man grinned. "Yep."

Duo couldn't help stay mad at his friend and felt the corners of his mouth twitch, too. Well, it could be fun. Even just to read all the weird answers he was sure to get for an ad like this. But that reminded him. "And what does the 'high tolerance to weirdness' mean?" He scowled again.

Quatre flushed. "Well, I couldn't write that you're actually a sexton, could I?"

~*~

"... high tolerance to weirdness preferred," Heero finished reading. Then stopped and raised his eyebrows. High tolerance to weirdness? Not that he had any intention of answering the ad, but that got his attention.

Weird? Well, he could do weird. He looked around the cold room, illuminated with harsh light, the rows of sheet covered lumps and the swinging door with MORGUE written on it. Yeah, he really COULD do weird.

Not that he had any intention of answering it, of course.

Of course not!

TBC? The End?

 

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