Title: Chibi Syndrome
Author: Atarashii (kitsune_atarashii@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG; Fluff {kind of...} and Humor
Pairing: 1+2, 3+4

Disclaimer: Gundamwing Characters aren't mine. The plotline is. Please don't sue.

Warning: ...

Rambling: Hn. I managed to release Part Two out in quick enough time! ^______^ I hope everyone's enjoying this, and thanks to everyone who told me what they thought of Part One. *grins* At this rate, I'll be able to release new installments at a moderate pace despite typing with one hand. That over with, on with the fic...enjoy. (Again, all grammatical and spelling errors you may find is my fault. I did try to get all of them though. I need a Beta-er for this fic...)


***

Chibi Syndrome (Part Two)

***


Two hours since Wufei's comments about what went on in the other ex-pilots' bedrooms passed. And to say Quatre and Duo were frustrated and a little hurt would be an understatement. Since the little 'incident', Heero and Trowa had quickly departed the sitting room. The said lovers were now off somewhere, while Wufei had been meditating in his bedroom.

Chibi Quatre and Duo were left with nothing to do.

"Hey, Cat?"

"What?"

"What did we eat last night?"

"..."

"It had to have been something we ate, else I'm certain Hiro and Torowa would be chibi too."

"..."

"Cat!"

"I'm thinking, Duo."

"Oh."

"We did try that new snack product."

"Which was called?"

"Um...don't remember."

"Damn."

"But I think we still have the package."

"Where?"

"Um...trash can..."

"Oh great. Well, let's go trash digging then!"

"..."

"..."

"Duo?"

"Yes?"

"Are you *sure* it could've been something we ate?"

"Yep."

"Er...HEY! Lemme go! DUO!!"

"No way, man! I'm going to find out what's responsible for Hiro avoiding me!"

"Will you at least let go of my wrist? Duo? Leggo! Duo...OW!!"

Quatre yanked his wrist from Duo's surprisingly still tight grip. Gingerly rubbing his bruised left wrist, he glared at the American. Nervously, Duo laughed, looking both sheepish and chagrined. :Please don't let Trowa kill me. Wait! I'm too cute to be killed like this. Ah, the joys of being chibi.:

"I'm sorry, Cat, I didn't mean to grab it so hard."

"It's alright, Duo," Quatre replied, giving him a small smile. "Well, we better check the trash can before anyone takes it out."


***


Two young men stared into glasses of tea, stirring them simultanously. With a sigh, Trowa murmured, "This situation we've been put in...maybe it's a test?" Heero studied him calmly over the rim of his own glass.

"Did you spike your drink or something, Trowa?" he asked mildly.

"No...I'm just trying to think of a good reason why we've been made to suffer."

"Hn."

Visable green eye glazed over as Trowa commented absently, "Maybe we should go shopping."

"..."

"I doubt their usual clothes will fit them now. We should buy some that will."

"..."

"It's the least we could do for them, Heero. We did run out on them. And after your little reassurance scene with Duo, that was bad."

"..."

"Heero. If we don't return to them and support them until this passes, we may never get some when it does. They'll probably be very upset at us."

"Mission accepted."

"..."


***


"Ah ha!" Duo proclaimed, crawling out of the fallen trash can which he'd been rooting aeound in for the past half hour. Quatre made a face at the sight of rotten banana peels and various other articles of trash sticking to his hair and pajamas. He then blinked, clapping his hands together when he saw the silver package the other was waving in the air. Snatching it in mid-wave, Quatre flattened it on the floor.

"Chibi Snacks," he stated, then glanced at the bottom of the package. He froze when he noticed the neat, bold-faced warning.

The ex-Shinigami pilot rolled his eyes, "Yo, Cat, what does it say?"

Slowly, his companion read, "These contents are known to cause the consumer to be chibified. Other side affects may occur. May last days, weeks or even months." Finished, Quatre looked up at Duo, whom was looking pale and kind of sick. Cocking his head to one side, Quatre queried, "Are you alright?"

Instead of answering, Duo groaned, legs collapsing from under him as he shook his head. Gulping, he said the one word which seemed to sum up everything, "Shit."

The Arabian clenched the package tightly, "Why didn't we read that warning beforehand?"

"Because we're idiots." Duo said wryly, flicking pieces of rotten meat off him.

The blonde looked resigned as he said in a saddened tone, "It can't get any worse."

"Hn." Managing to throw the fallen trash around them back into the can, then upright it, Duo stalked out of the kitchen.

"Duo, wait!! Where are you going?"

"I need a bath."

"But you have nothing that will fit you!"

"I'll just wear a shirt then. With things already going downhill, Cat, the least I can do is not smell like last night's dinner."

Hesitating for a brief moment, Quatre rushed after the American, deciding that a warm bath would be nice about now.[1]


***


Trowa held up a black and red ensemble, showing it to the Japanese youth next to him. "This looks a lot like that priest outfit Duo likes to wear," he stated and Heero merely looked at it, then grabbed it.

"I think this is the only thing that Duo would like," the other commented, eyes drifting over the many racks of clothes. Trowa sighed, his own hands empty.

"Nothing here Cat would like," The green-eyed young man muttered, just as he spotted a pink shirt, dark purple vest and tan khakis. A small smile gracing his face, Trowa grabbed the three articles of clothing. "Nevermind. I found what he'll like."

Heero raised an eyebrow, "How do we know that these'll fit them?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Just something tells me that they will."

The other snorted, "Then lets go buy this stuff and get out of here."

Trowa looked at his watch, nodding, "It's almost lunchtime."


***

Tilting his head to one side, Quatre looked at each shirt in his and Trowa's closet, before deciding on one he liked. He reached to grab for it, managing to get only a little bit of the fabric. With a tug, the shirt slipped off the hangar, landing on the closet floor. Beaming, the blonde slipped the too-large, midnight blue shirt, reveling in the warmth it provided.

Running a small hand through his freshly wet hair, he glanced around the bedroom, then padded out, trying not to trip.

So focused was he that he didn't notice the other small figure coming out of the room right across from the one he and Trowa shared...

Until they collided. With muffled shouts, Quatre picked himself up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Little droplets of water splashed onto the other's face and Duo stood back up as well. Wide amethyst eyes blinking, Duo had slipped on a black shirt, his own wet, unbraided, chestnut hair falling to the back of his knees.

"I'm sorry, Duo." the blonde apologised, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No problem," Duo replied, "I wasn't really either."

Quatre studied him silently, before offering, "I can braid your hair."

"Great. Thanks, Cat."

The Atabian gestured for Duo to follow him, and they headed carefully down the stairs to the sitting room. As they settled in a large patch of sunlight streaming from the sole window, Quatre started to braid the other's hair as quickly as he could with much chubbier fingers. As he finally finished and had tied the end, both chibified ex-pilots yawned.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Quatre murmured, "'m sleepy."

Duo nodded, "Me too."

They looked at each other, then back at the sunshine bed provided for them. Without another word, the two curled up a few inches away from each other, promptly falling asleep.


***


[1] -_-; Seperate baths...not together.

I had been planning on adding more on to this part, as in what exactly the 'side affects' are. But, I guess you'll all have to wait 'til next chapter. ^_^;; Don't worry though, the side affects will make Duo and Quatre even cuter, if possible. Hm..all feedback can be sent over to kitsune_atarashii@hotmail.com *or* inarisama@yahoo.com. I'm hoping for the next installment to be out by next Monday. But there's Part Three of Demonic Intentions which needs to be written. -_-;