Author: Sami-pi
Pairing: established 1x2x1 and 3x4x3
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none?
Timeline: post EW, Quatre's CEO of WEI, Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Wufei are all Preventers, and they're all around 30ish.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing, its characters and its trappings, belong to Bandai, Sotsu, and... I was sure there was someone else in there... sorry! ^^;;; Anyway, this fic is not for profit, just for fun.
12:17
"Was that the doorbell?"
I threw my pillow over Trowa's face and wiggled over to flop onto it.
He flailed half-heartedly.
I rolled over so that I was lying fully on top of him.
"Serves you right for waking me up. It's Saturday. Saturdays are for sleeping in," I huffed.
He mumbled something about me hanging out with Duo too much, but I really couldn't hear it through the pillow.
I heard the knock on the door that sounded not two minutes later, though. Damn them all. It was a conspiracy. Why were there so many people in this house?
"Master Winner?"
The butler? Wasn't the butler supposed to stay in the front foyer by the door? Or was that just the rule for doormen. Did I have doormen? Why did I have a butler who didn't know about the 'no talking to the Winner before noon' rule?
"Master Winner, I know about the 'no talking before noon' rule, but it's 12:17pm, sir."
Damn them all!
Trowa managed to dislodge me and get up to open our bedroom door.
"Ah, Master Barton. There's a parcel for the two of you."
The man held out a rather large box wrapped in layers of brown butcher paper.
"Who makes Saturday deliveries?" I asked, sitting up in bed.
"It was couriered from Master Barton's sister, I believe," said the butler before executing a light bow and disappearing off down the hall.
Trowa brought the package over to show me.
"Not in the bed!" I yelled, remembering at the last second that Catherine was still with the circus and her parcels tended to be full of sawdust and wood shavings.
We both trotted over to the coffee table in the sitting area of our room. Maybe doorbells couldn't get me out of bed on Saturdays, but mysterious packages were something else entirely. Maybe it was a present. I loved presents.
"It's quite heavy," said Trowa, setting it down with a 'thud'. "And cold too."
Well, it was winter outside, but I held back on the snarky comments. Trowa once said I was 'bitchy' when I woke up. 'BITCHY'. Me. Really. That day, I'd resolved to show him just who was the bitchy one. Which was not me, just to be clear.
Trowa pulled open the box and...brought out another box.
In the second box was a large metal canister that had been encased in Styrofoam.
"Interesting."
Trowa nodded.
"Should we open it?"
Trowa shrugged.
I hovered while he carefully unwound the tape from around the lid of the canister. Then he pried it open and peered inside.
"What is it Trowa? Is it a present?"
Trowa turned to me and said: "It's soup."
I looked into the canister to see for myself. And soup it was. Frozen, and with the words 'boil me' spelled out on top with baby carrots.
OWARI
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