November 22, 196 AC

LETTERS FROM DUO
(Sidefic series for the Death and the Dragon Arc)

By: Mel and Christy
Warnings: Humour

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Duo fumed as he scrubbed the makeup off his face. This was getting to be too much. Why him? It wasn't fair, he always seemed to get the really bad missions. Crossdressing, lingerie factories in the tundra, thirty hyper preschoolers... and their groping female relatives... It was almost enough to make him go... postal, that was the term from the 20th century when people got fed up and started shooting the crap out of things... and people. Dr. G was at the top of his list when he went postal.

A knock on the bathroom door broke the braided teen from his reverie, and he turned as Heero walked in. Shaking his head slightly, the Japanese pilot took the washcloth from Duo's hand and began re-washing all the places Duo had missed.

"Baka, you're just smearing it around. Let me do it," he said, wiping off the eye makeup. "Just tell G you won't do this any more. There's no reason one of us can't take these occasionally... well, maybe not Quatre, and Chang would refuse outright, then never let us forget it if we made him take it; but Trowa and I don't really have a problem with these sort of missions. I'll inform J, and Trowa will let S know. Come on, all clean, and Trowa's made you dinner and hot chocolate. Eat, then email G."

Duo followed Heero out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where Trowa was just putting the late dinner on the table. Duo smiled slightly and flopped into a chair. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate this. And just wait until I get a hold of G..."

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FROM: Cohen_the_Barbarian@Stomp_your_Ass.com
TO: Greebo@Nanny_Ogg.net
SENT: 20:11 November 22, 196AC
SUBJECT: Are you on drugs?!

---message begins---

G-

Are you nuts? On drugs? Why do *I* keep getting these crap waste-of-time missions? The lingerie factory, the preschool, the four dress-in-drag missions and now this?! This was the last straw, man! If I wasn't already gay, following that pervert colonel around as he went from his mistress to hookers and back to his mistress would have turned me off women for good! I can honestly tell you they *weren't* passing vital war-type information, trust me. I've got nothing against the ladies of the night, hell, they taught me a lot about life when I was a kid, but I really did NOT need a week's inundation of this guy's kinky and perverted fetishes! Some of them totally grossed me out!

You just wanted video and pictures, right? You have some sort of weird, perverted voyeur thing going on, don't you?

This is it! Any more of these damn things go to Heero or Trowa, got that? I am NOT joking here. If I wasn't me, this mission could have sexually traumatised me for life. One more, G, and I post pictures of you in drag and bodage gear, getting it on with Dr. J and the others, all over the net. Maybe then you'll all learn that Duo does not do drag, Duo does not do waste-of-time missions, and Duo is not the middleman in the delivery of your kinky, perverted, sex videos!

No more.

- Duo, pissed off and NEVER DRESSING IN DRAG AGAIN!

P.S. Your report and squicky video and pictures are attached, you perv!

---message ends---

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* * * * *

Professor G glanced at the email aliases Duo had used and frowned. Seeing the subject of said email, he reached in his desk for the flask of medicinal whiskey he kept for occasions when his pilot was not happy with him, and poured a shot into his coffee. He almost considered Duo as a grandson of sorts, or at least a nephew, and usually his emails were amusing and extremely entertaining. But this... this could be very bad. Taking a long drink, he steeled himself and clicked 'open'.

Ten minutes and two whiskey shots later, Professor G hit 'reply'.

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FROM: G@XXXX.net
TO: Cohen_the_Barbarian@Stomp_your_Ass.com
SENT: 20:32 November 22, 196AC
SUBJECT: No I am not!!

---message begins---

-Duo,

I am NOT a pervert! Don't blame *me* for these stupid, degrading, waste-of-time missions. Blame the damn informants who keep giving me crap leads! I am as mad as you are-- well, maybe not *quite* as mad, since I haven't been stuck impersonating a schoolgirl or spying on lingerie, or being groped-- and I don't want to keep wasting your skills on useless jobs.

I'll do what I can to weed out the useless missions. Shake up the informants a bit, cut their funds if they turn in too many false leads, that sort of thing. I'll double and triple check any seemingly useless leads... except anything from the Yggdrasil ring. They've never failed us yet, and anything from them I'll tag with 'Yggdrasil'. All right?

And what's with calling me Greebo?! I'm not a cat, much less a scarred moggy with scraggly fur! In retrospect, I believe I may have been in error to introduce you to the Discworld series...

-G.

P.S. Was it really *that* kinky? I'm almost afraid to look...

---message ends---

**NOTE: Cohen the Barbarian is a character from Terry Pratchett's Discworld series.