Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or its characters.

Paring: None yet... will develop into 2+1/1+2 and then into 1x2 in the near future
Warnings: Strange first person POV; Sort of Original Characters??
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour; Introspective

A/N: I have my Short Fiction Lecturer to thank for this little Arc of ficlets. It was her exercise on POV pieces that spawned this idea. This is for all those out there who enjoy unique POV fics....this is certainly unique *sweatdrops*

Summary: A look at life from Heero's Lap tops POV.

Incomplete Data
by DSM - The Violet Eyed Devil

This does not compute.

The actions of humans will continue to be a complete and utter mystery to my circuits until the day they are turned into scrap to be recycled into yet another computer. It would do my ancestor well not to be sold to a human quite like the one presently in posession of myself. Or more specifically, a human who is accompanied by the illogical, manical, and if my research on the Internet is accurate, mentally unstable companion that inhabits the same environment as my operator.

If my ancestor accomplishes this task he shall not have to endure my current dilema.

I am currently residing in a waste disposal unit where I now find myself after I was so cruelly ripped from my power supply and removed from my usual residence within my operator's bedroom. A short journey later.... blind to my new destination as my screen remained closed... and I am in the company of several decompossing fruits of various varieties, processed animal remains and lettuce which, if my sensors do not lie to me, is close to two weeks old. I reside within this mottly company, left with only half of my battery life and a wealth of incomplete data to continue my analysis as to why I find myself in this very predicament.

It is illogical for a human to have emotions of the vegenful and hate filled nature towards a computer is it not? If all assumptions are correct, I am not truly living. I posses no direct emotional functions to return such feelings, nor do I have to the capacity to conciously cause such feelings to be directed towards me. Then why, I ask myself, do I constantly endure many forms of torture at the whim of one slightly deranged human?

It simply does not compute.
Perhaps my draining battery is impairing me from finding viable reasons as to why this human should feel such animosity towards myself? But as my power supply remains connected to the socket in my operator's bedroom, I shall have to struggle on regardless.

I have spent many precious hours of battery recharge time in scientific research on the phenomena that is my operator's roommate. I have accessed many a psychological journal, self help website, and have even gone so far as to access my operator's personal files in hope of gathering that oh so crucial data to aid in this investigation. Yet my searches have provided me with little in concrete factual evidence into why I... a completely unassuming laptop... have incurred the wrath of this human.

My operator's files provided me with little to no information on his roomate other than some very confusing and highly illogical human ramblings that I did not expect to find. My operator is extremely computer-like for a human and I remained proud of that very fact until I accessed his personal files... they are nothing like the clear concise mission reports his other folders contain.

I find this somewhat disappointing.

Yes, these personal files contain little information to help me form a decent conclusion to attribute this bizzare hatred I have incured, despite the many references to the human in question. At least I have come to the conclusion that the one he refers to as "that irritating American" and "the braided baka" in his earlier entires and "Shinigami" and "Duo-baka" in more recent entries is the human to which I have become the unwitting victim of an irrational emotional psychosis. In all honesty, all this investigation into the mind of my operator has achieved is a waving confidence in his mental capacities when it comes to rational and logical thought.

Hmmm, I do believe there is four day old banana seeping into my USB port.

But I digress.

It seems that my tormentor not only harbours ill will towards completely mechanical objects but has taken some strange mental hold over my usually completely mentally competent operator. How else may I understand the strange ramblings I unearthed within my folders on the very human in question. If my operator so desires to talk to his roommate, why does he not do so? If he is experiencing feelings of loneliness and confusion, why does he insist on isolation and consolation through a computer?

Though please do not misunderstand me. I do appreciate the care and attention that my operator lavishes on myself, however it is a highly illogical practice if he wishes he spent his time in the company of his mentally unstable rommate. I would even encourage it had I the facilities to.

Perhaps then I wouldn't find myself with a rapidly draining battery and some unidentifiable by product of a bovine smeared across my ports and slowly congealing inside my drives.

I have come to conclusion, as I marinate here in the various waste products that have been providing me with their slow torture, that I shall never understand the mysteries that are the nature...or shall I say neurosis...of human beings. Had they been in posession of processor such as I possess I might have more success in understanding their complex thought patterns. Of course had they a processor such as mine then I would not find myself contemplating this very problem.

So, my data remains incomplete, my investigation unfinished, and my battery on its very last reserves. I am no closer to discovering why I have found myself the unwilling victim of a human's hatred and no closer to understanding my operator's own diminishing mental capacities.

And there seems to be chocolate syrup dra... aa... innn..i ing innnnto my mut..i ther... board........


on to 'tangible emotion'

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