LETTERS FROM DUO
series for the Death and the Dragon Arc)
By: Mel and
feigned sleep until Heero left the room to go and work on Wing, then tottered
over to the desk and retrieved his laptop. Each step jarred his cracked ribs and
made his head pound even more. OZ had really worked him over, especially after
his cracks to Une about her split personality, and asking her to change may not
have been the best idea. Oh, well, in stressful situations, his mouth did tend
to run away from his brain.
Wincing at the various aches and pains, he
crawled back into bed and pulled up his email
16:28 March 22, 196AC
< NO FURTHER MESSAGE DATA>
Hey, sorry I couldn't stick around so
your goons could pound on me some more, but when the Spandex Soldier breaks in
to break you out, you just can't say no. Besides, the accomodations sucked, the
food beyond sucked, and the 'planned activities' really weren't my cup of tea. I
prefer nature walks, picnics and concerts. Now, is there anyway you could
arrange, say, a Vivaldi or Mozart concert for my next stay? Or Handel? Maybe
Hayden? No opera, though, please. Some of those sopranos make me twitch. I just
never could get into opera.
Sorry you took offense at the 'split
personality' and 'change' comments. I'm not sorry I said them, because that
would be a lie. You really shouldn't be so upset by it, though, and you really
didn't have to knock me off the chair like that. You cracked an extra rib there.
Lighten up a little, sweet cheeks! Cheer up, get your mental hard drive
defragged. It wasn't anything personal. You're probably a pretty nice person
under that Psycho Bitch from Hell, Glory to OZ persona. Maybe you need a nice
long vacation. I know a few really nice spots, like Bali... sun, warm tropical
water, fun activities, gorgeous half naked men. I can send you some brochures,
if you want. Or if you're into cold, which I most definitely do NOT like,
there's a great ski lodge in western Russia I've heard about. I can make
arrangements for you, and I'd promise not to attack the area while you were
there. Well, unless I got orders I couldn't delay, of course.
that I'm asking you to go easy on me or anything, but next time I enjoy your
hospitality, do you think you can avoid cracking or breaking any of my ribs,
please? It makes me whiney, according to Mr. Self-destruct, which annoys him to
no end. And you owe me a tiramisu. I was supposed to get one for my birthday,
but since it wasn't on the OZ Hilton menu, I didn't get one. Self-destructo Boy
refuses to break cover to find me one. I tell you, life just isn't
Oh! And I hope the lingerie is your size, since I was just
guessing. I chose those colours to suit you. Don't get the wrong idea here, now.
I deserved something out of that awful mission that I'm not giving you details
about. I figured I'd get my compensation for my wasted time and picked out
appropriate pieces for my favourite women. Hmmm... I certainly hope Noin is the
satin teddy type... Oh, and what are the odds you could get me surveillance
camera footage of Sexy Zechsy in that g-string I sent him? Pretty please with
dancing Deathscythes on top?
Gotta run. Well, sleep, anyway. I think that
anal retentive, homicidal maniac Spandex Boy slipped me some sedatives, the cute
bastard. He knows I hate them, so I think he does it on purpose. But he
forgets... revenge is a dish best served cold. What do you think? Dress his
Gundam up in a tu-tu and put the pics on the net?
and kisses and sweet dreams, Une-babe.
Duo Maxwell, AKA Shinigami, AKA
God of Death, AKA All Around Fun Lovin' Guy
* * * * *
SENT: 17:02 March 22, 196AC
'Babe'? 'Sweet Cheeks'?
Where *do* you get your dialogue, Maxwell, a Three Stooges nostalgia
convention?! Do you address all of your female acquaintances in this sexist
manner, or am I the only one to be so honoured?
In case you hadn't
noticed, you were not at a seaside holiday camp the last time we met. You were a
prisoner under interrogation. The standards of accomodation and treatment are
significantly different. If you find yourself similarly confined during future
visits to OZ custody, just remember: sand, cheerful attendants and varied menus
equals resort. Cells, guards, manacles and ration packs equals cell block.
Vivaldi is *not* an option, though I may purchase a bad production of Wagner's
'Ring Cycle' for future use as in-cell Muzak. It should have a demoralising
effect on *all* our prisoners, not just you.
And NO, I do not need a
holiday or a mental 'defrag'.
- Colonel Une
P.S. The lingerie was
entirely the wrong size, Maxwell, but since I would never wear anything styled
like that anyway, do *not* take that as an invitation to keep trying to guess my
measurements. As for your birthday tiramisu, if you want one so badly, I'll make
sure you get one... provided you get captured again before the end of the
Sleep well. The next time I get my hands on you, I don't want you
to start whining that we only got you because you were having a bad
< < TRACES
DETECTED: 17 > >
< < TRACES DEFEATED: 12 >
< < TRACES REDIRECTED TO RANDOM OZ ACCOUNTS: 4 >
< < TRACES REDIRECTED TO SENDER'S ACCOUNT: 1 >
Lady Une leaned forward eagerly as her computer
beeped, signalling the end of the trace, then snorted. "According to this,
Maxwell is... me. I don't think so."
*I think it's a good thing we're
on opposite sides,* she mused, sitting back again and casting a wry glance
sideways at the skimpy blood-red lace incitement to riot sitting in its delivery
box. *If not for that, I'd have to recruit him, and then put up with
him... or adopt him.*