Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing - but I love to play around with Heero and Duo on a regular basis...

Warnings: None

Summary: The pilots experience a natural snowfall on Earth.

Interlude - Snow
by D.C. Logan

Heero's world turned white in an instant. He suddenly had no sense of sight. And he quickly became disoriented and weaved slightly on his feet.

"Direct hit!" shouted Duo with way too much enthusiasm for the rest of the pilots to ignore.

Something needed to be done—and fast. Trowa reached down and grabbed a double handful of good packing snow and proceeded to unceremoniously dump it on Duo's head. Duo shook his head wildly, spinning his ice-soaked braid like a whip in his frenzy to clear the half-melted sludge off his hair. "Hey, that's not fair—I'm on your side—remember?"

After that, the battleground turned into a free-for-all snow fest.

It was the first real snowfall any of them had seen. The snow at the OZ base and in Antarctica didn't count—it had already been on the ground. This was an honest-to-God snowstorm—transforming the dead grass field in front of the safe house into a winter paradise with large flakes and eight inches of cold white insulation perfect for packing into forts or ammunition. They had started by walking out into the yard completely awestruck. The knowledge that snow fell from the sky made perfect scientific sense—but the reality was extraordinary.

Duo, a sky gazer by nature, made himself dizzy by repeatedly looking up into the sky and trying to figure out if the flakes were falling in a completely random pattern or if there was an order to it somehow. Wufei was catching the large flakes on the palms of his hands and watching them dissolve. Even Trowa tried catching a few flakes on his tongue—enjoying the novelty of the experience. Quatre's eyes moved back and forth between watching the snow fall in a steady curtain and gazing in delight at his fellow pilots.

True to form though, it was Heero that discovered the best means to enjoy the early winter snowstorm. He picked up two handfuls of the suspended water and carefully compacted them into a denser ball using both hands. He had then taken careful aim and sent his creation in a perfect arc that terminated directly into Duo's upturned face.

An impromptu battle had been waged from that point on, with all five of them switching sides at random or by bribe (warm socks—hot coffee—first shower). They played like boys half the age they were, and tumbled back into the safe house exhausted, damp, and content.


back to fiction

back to d.c. logan fiction

back home