To Kill A Fly
Wufei flew over the couch and landed heavily into its cushions, sighing in sheer happiness. They were in a lull as far as missions went, and they were staying in one of Quatre’s many safe houses, which meant that he was enjoying first class comfort at its best. All of their beds were made from the best mahogany wood. The sheets were silk whereas the comforters and blankets were satin, both of which were a blessing against his overworked body. The maids were there, so they didn’t have to clean or cook. Everything was handed to him on a platter just about, and even though he didn’t show it, Wufei was loving every bit of it.
The raven-haired boy planted his bare feet on the coffee table, and turned the television on to something HE wanted to watch for a change. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when he settled on the Discovery Channel. Today, they were discussing the different dynasties in Chinese history (a topic that interested him especially), and he would be able to enjoy it in pure, uninterrupted peace.
Quatre and Trowa left a while ago to go into town to have lunch and shop a little. Wufei figured they would be gone for a few hours. Heero and Duo were out checking on the gundams… which meant they were going at it like rabbits at the height of mating season. That will keep them busy for a few hours as well. So that left him alone with the TV and the refrigerator. He was in heaven.
After the first half hour of the show was over, Wufei rushed into the kitchen where he made himself lunch. One of the cooks already had his wheat bread fresh out of the oven. So when the next half hour began, he had his foot long sub, complete with bologna, ham, three different types of cheeses (two of which he couldn’t even pronounce), tomatoes, lettuce, black olives, mayonnaise, potato chips, and an oatmeal cookie. He would never admit that Duo’s little adventure at SubWay turned him into a fiend.
Wufei managed to have a few bites of his sandwich and two slurps of his Dr. Pepper when he heard it. At first, he ignored the noise, thinking it was extra static from the television. But once he heard it again, he put the volume on mute, placed his sandwich on the table, and listened intently. He was about to turn back to his program when the buzzing came right next to his ear, causing him to jump and slap himself on the face.
“Ow! Damnit!” he shouted, waving away the offending object. “How the hell did a fly get in here?” Wufei shook his head to make sure that the fly didn’t settle in his hair, and relaxed back into the couch. He started to eat some potato chips when he noticed that the fly was on the TV, smack in the middle of the narrator’s forehead.
“God damnit,” he muttered under his breath as he left the comfort of the couch to get the newspaper. Trowa always left it on the loveseat for anyone else to use after he was done. So, flipping through the sections, Wufei yanked out the classifieds. He doubted any of them would need to look for a job anytime soon, and rolled it up, ready to have another battle. “Alright. We’ll see who’s the weak one here,” he whispered under his breath.
Wufei carefully stepped towards the TV, trying to move as slowly as possible. He didn’t want the fly to jump away at the last minute, which was what they were famous for. So, as stealthily as he could, he tip-toed to the TV, positioning the rolled up weapon in such an angle so as to crush the enemy without smearing it on the television.
“I...got you!” Wufei hollered as he used almost all of his strength in the blow. Satisfied, he looked on the surface of the newspaper to see if the body was smashed on it. It wasn’t on the newspaper. Okay. He checked on the floor. It wasn’t there either. Huh. Glancing back at the TV, he saw that not only was the fly NOT in a million pieces across its surface, but it was still alive and now more on the narrator’s right ear.
“Damn you!” Wufei swung again, striking the TV. Whap! Looking back, he saw that the fly now near the corner of the screen. Whap! Now, it was on the top of the TV. Whap! On the edge of the TV. Whap! On the screen again. Whap! Whap! Whap! On the cd’s on top of the TV. WHAP!
With his last blow, Wufei knocked all of the cd’s onto the floor, some of them breaking free from their cases. The rolled up newspaper was also shredded, leaving bits and pieces of itself every time it was used. He huffed a bit at the mess he would have to clean up, but smiled when he didn’t see the fly anywhere. Pleased, he turned towards the couch to sit and finish the rest of the show. “I’ll clean it up on commercial,” he said to himself as he plopped on the cushions and reached for his drink.
Before he sipped, Wufei inadvertently looked down at his straw to see the most disgusting thing he has ever seen in his life. The fly--that he thought he killed--was sitting on the mouth of his straw, cleaning its legs. (At least, he thought it was his legs). Almost as if sensing the attention, the fly looked up at Wufei.
For a tense moment, they stared at each other.
“AH!” In a fit of anger, the Chinese boy threw his drink across the room, where it was splattered against the TV. Furious, Wufei went back to the loveseat and grabbed the Real Estate section and the Drive section, rolling both of them up together. Once that task was done, he stood and listened intently for the buzzing of the fly’s wings.
At first, all he heard was the sound of his harsh breathing and the cracking of the newspaper because of his tight grip. Then he heard it. The buzz was faint, but there. When he heard it a few seconds later, Wufei started to inch forward carefully, following the trail of sound to his enemy’s whereabouts. As he closed in, he tried to follow the sound with his eyes, and was further enraged when he found the culprit sitting on his many hammed and cheesed sandwich.
“By the gods, NO!” he shouted as he lunged at the table, whipping the newspaper wildly as if it was a sword. The frustrated boy brought it down hard on the coffee table, sending fragments of sandwich flying everywhere and nearly breaking the table as well. Looking about, he saw that the fly had retreated to a nearby wall.
“Ha! I have you now!” Running to the wall, Wufei just about put the rolled newspaper through it. Pausing, he could hear the insect flying away, and whipped around to find it. However, he didn’t realize that he hit the plaster wall so hard, he left a hole in it in the shape of a fist.
“Where are you?” The short-haired boy asked the room in a sing song voice. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” That’s when Wufei spotted him. For a moment, he couldn’t help but stare in absolute horror and shock. The worse crime he has ever known had just been committed. It was bad enough that the fly interrupted the show. It was terrible that he couldn’t drink his dearest Dr. Pepper because of the diseased-ridden, useless nuisance. It was awful that his sandwich had been contaminated and destroyed, and that this entire event ruined his afternoon. No. This was the most abominable and sickening thing that could ever happen.
The son of a bitch was eating his oatmeal cookie.
“NOOOO!” Infuriated beyond words, Wufei leaped at the coffee table, nearly breaking the wood in half--again. The fly evaded his attack and flew to the bright light of the TV. Wufei, sensing this move, did a cartwheel which turned into a back handspring, then a back tuck to unroll in the air for a quick judo kick, which landed on the narrator’s forehead. Unfortunately, the TV was knocked off its stand and fell to the floor, sparks flying everywhere like it was a fireworks show.
Undeterred, the fifth gundam pilot saw the fly go for a vase, and propelled what was left of his rolled up newspaper at it. He missed the fly, but nailed the vase, and watched briefly as it shattered into many pieces like dust. He did notice however, that the fly wasn’t fairing too well, having been injured with that last attack.
“A ha!” he caroled, hopping behind the couch to where the fly was headed. He sneered as he saw it glide under the couch, and did not hesitate to reach under and flip it over onto its front. This time, he didn’t miss the coffee table, but ignored the snap as it broke in half. On his hands and knees, Wufei followed the frantic buzzing of the fly’s wings until he came to where his cup laid on the floor. The fly had gone in to hide, but got its wings wet in the liquid.
“Yes!” he screamed as he picked up the cup, quickly retrieving the lid to put over the top. He shook it a few times, making sure that the fly was not only completely wet, but drowned. After a few shakes, he peeled the top off and smiled menacingly as he inspected the carcass of the insect floating next to an ice cube.
“Wufei! What have you done?!”
Wufei whirled around to find Heero and Duo with completely surprised faces, Quatre on the verge of an aneurysm, and Trowa with his eyebrows raised.
“Hey guys, what are you doing back so early?” he asked carefully.
“There’s a storm coming. ‘Supposed to be nasty, so I called them back to the house,” Duo said, the surprise still imprinted on his face. “Uh, what have you been up to... Wufei?”
The mentioned boy swallowed visibly, not trusting the looks on his comrades’ faces. “I was trying to kill a fly.”
“What?!” Quatre screamed, causing everybody--including Wufei-- to jump. “You mean you did all of this just to kill a FLY?!”
Wufei nearly face-vaulted when he looked at the damage he had done. The cd’s from earlier were strewn all over the floor now, some scratched with others completely broken. He glanced behind him and saw the hole in the wall, then at the fragments of porcelain that used to be a vase. The coffee table had caught the couch’s fall, turning itself into a legless chair (if you turned it upside down), and the TV was harboring a tiny fire where the screen used to be. Not only that, bits and pieces of tomato, lettuce, ham, cheese, Dr. Pepper and shredded newspaper added to the motif of the place.
“Um… yeah. But it’s dead. Look!” Wufei cheered, as if he was a child showing off his new toy.
Quatre stood there briefly before he passed out, landing safely in Trowa’s arms. Heero and Duo started to advance on the black haired boy, making soothing gestures.
“C’mon Wu, let’s go to your room. Easy now.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Wufei said, backing up. “Don’t try to patronize me Maxwell. I know what you’re up to. You two are going to tie me to that medieval thing in the hallway that might be a chair. I know it!”
As fast as he could, Wufei threw the cup at the two and took off, with Heero and Duo in hot pursuit. Trowa only stood there, holding onto the unconscious Quatre as he surveyed the area. Rashid came in then and stared at the mess, completely dumbfounded.
“Guess who’s not cleaning this up,” Trowa announced as he started for his room, cradling his unconscious boyfriend against his chest.