20 years after EW

Contents: Fluff, humor, and slight Relena bashing, Shonen ai, a little cursing
Pairings: 2+1, probably all+2, others are unknown
Disclaimer: I don't own GW or the boys or the girls or the obnoxious Relena. Please don't sue. Any flames received will be used to heat my room. (Brrr…tis cold in here!) And producing this fic anywhere without my permission will find a really pissed off chibi Duo with his teeth sunk deeply into your backside. ^_^
Archived: soon to be http://www.heavenlycreature.net


The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally some female voice answered with an annoyed tone.

"Yes, this is the secret services, may I help you?" The voice sounded familiar.

"I would like to speak to the president…now!"

"I'm sorry," the girl voice's familiarity rang in the person's ear. "But I cannot accept this unknown phone call. You must say the secret password in order to speak with him."

"I'm a friend!"

"Sorry…I cannot accept that as the password."

"Wait a minute…I know you! This is Hilde isn't it?" The girl on the other end chuckled nervously. "You know me, Hilde! Let me speak to him…right now!"

"I'm really sorry, Relena. But I cannot let you talk to him unless you know the password. Only those whom he really trusts he gives the password to. If he didn't give it to you then he doesn't want to speak to you."

"But…but I'm his friend!"

"Some friend, huh?" Hilde laughed and then hung up.

Relena gave the annoying, buzzing receiver a nasty glare. "Why you little slut!! I'll show you!" she slammed the phone down.


A knock on the door- it's the famous "shave and a hair cut" rap that's still around even to this day.

"Dude!" the drummer opened the door a slit. "There's this chick here to see you. Should I let her in?"

"What does she want?" the singer glared.

"She wants an autograph I think."

"Is she blonde?" he inquired.

"Totally!" the drummer beamed. "And she's got real freaky eyebrows!"

"Oy vey…" he sighed. "Let her in."

"Okie dokie." He opened the door a bit and in stepped the fan.

"Oi! Heero!" the familiar blonde smiled. "Remember me?"

Heero snorted. "Of course. What is it you want?"

"I want you to sign my ass!" she smiled wickedly, wiggling her butt. Heero groans.

"I'm not signing body parts!" he snarled.

"Aww…come on!"

"No, Dorothy! I'm not going to sign any part of your body! Not even your little pinky."

"Fine!" she whipped out a small notebook and pen. "Will this do?"

"Yes." Heero ripped the book from her hands and signed quickly. He tossed the little notebook back.

"What about my…"

"I'm keeping the pen." He tossed it on his desk. "Now leave. I've got a concert in a half hour and I need to get ready."

"Oh fine." She started to walk out, but she turned back around and smirked. "By the way…The President of the United States will be on the air tonight. You know…on every channel?"

"Don't worry." Heero gives her a slight smile. "I wouldn't miss that for anything."


"Give me more sweetness! More passion! Something!" the cameraman shouted. "Come on! Show the world you're a hot mother!" Getting the shots that he wanted he smiled. "Better! Much better! Keep showing that innocent face." He snapped the camera a couple more times. "Ok, that's it for now." He started putting the camera away.

"Good," the model sighed. "I need a break from all these hot lights." He strips off his vest and undoes his tie.

"Please, Quatre-sama, not in front of the ladies here. You'll make them blush." His good friend, and agent, Ransid tries to warn him. But it's too late.

"I need to get these things off! I'm roasting." He undoes a couple buttons on his shirt.

"Please…Quatre-sama…" but it was too late. All the ladies were sporting slight nosebleeds and have fainted. "You did it again…" Ransid sighed.

"Well I can't help it." Quatre smirked.

"Yes, I know." Ransid scratched the back of his head and bowed slightly. "You're a famous male model now. But sometimes I wish you didn't let your job go to your head."

"There's nothing wrong with increasing my self-esteem, is there?"

Ransid bowed. "No, of course not. It's just that…I don't want your ego to get too boosted, and then if you ever get rejected your feelings will get crushed."

"Do not worry about me so, dear friend. I'm fine. I know for a fact that this whole world loves me and I will never get rejected." He smiled, starting to walk into his changing room.

"Oh dear…" Ransid sighed. "Oh, by the way Quatre-sama. I heard that the president is supposed to be making a very unique speech this afternoon. Would you like to see it or…"

"The President?" Quatre raised an eyebrow. He gives him a very big smile. "I'd love to watch. But you know what would be better?"


"Warm up my private jet. I've got some stops to make."



A motorcycle revs up and then peeled out, smoke blowing everywhere behind it. It fishtails for a few seconds and then takes off to a gaunt plank that's made into a ramp. As he goes airborne, off the roof of one building, for seven seconds he looked down and waits for the signal.

Once the signal was given, a few seconds short, he yanks himself off the bike and jumped up, catching the clothesline from the other building. The bike dove down and crashes into a glass overhead. Cameras inside the building get a good shot of the bike making it's way down, glass and all, onto it's target- a long table with food on it.

"Cut!" the director shouted, "Good job, Trowa. That was exactly what I wanted! Be~autiful!"

Trowa leapt down from the clothesline like a graceful cat and landed on his hands and feet. He stood up quickly; looking unphased as usual, and strode over to his boss. The director smiled and handed him a towel.

"I'll be in my trailer." Trowa said unemotionally.

"You should be happy, Tro, my man! You only had to do one take this time!" He's talking to his back.

"Yeah, whatever." His age hasn't changed him much, and neither has his new career.

"Hey!" the director shouted back at him. "You might want to just read a book or something tonight instead of turning on the tube!"

Trowa turned around, curious. "Why's that?"

"Because every channel will have the president on it. Talk about freaking boring! Every new president it's the same thing! Politics, politics, politics! Once in a while it would be about war. Now if the president declared war, that would be something interesting to watch, don't you agree?"

"Did you say…the president?" Trowa's eyes hinted a spark of happiness.


An old black phone hanging on the wall of a Chinese restaurant rings. One of the workers answers it with a big smile.

"Hell~o! Wu-Fei's Chinese diner and take out. May I take your order?" As the employee was about to pen down the customer's order he froze in place. His bottom lip quivered uncontrollably, unable to reply.

Curious as to why he was acting so weird, another worker called out his boss and told him that he just froze. WuFei walked up to his employee and shook him back out of his shock. The guy finally found his voice.

"It…it…it's the president!"

"You've got to be kidding!" the other employee shouted. "The president is ordering our food??"

WuFei snatched the phone out of the workers hands. Everyone in the kitchen froze in complete shock. They all watched their boss as he's about to speak to the one and only president himself.

"Maxwell! What the HELL do you want??" WuFei's tone stunned all his workers. The owner of the famous Chinese restaurant heard a familiar and friendly chuckle at the other end of the line.

"Now, now! Is that any way to speak to The President of the United States?"

"It is if it's you, ya nutty president! So what do you need my help with now? Don't understand how to handle the Secretary of state? Or do I have to explain Water Gate to you again?"

"Ha ha, very funny, Wu-man! Now listen. I'm going to make you even more famous then you've ever dreamed! Interested?"

"Not really, Duo. I'm happy where I am right now."

"I know that! I mean that I'm ordering a buffet from you. For all the people here at the white house and all the people who came to hear my speech."

"You've got to be shitting me, Maxwell."

"Nope." Duo laughed. "No shit here! You should know my motto by now. I mean, even though it started out as a war-line.

"Yeah, yeah. You may run and you may hide but you never lie." WuFei sighed. "Alright. How many people would this be now?"

"Oh…I don't know. Make it…make it for 600. And if that's not enough, I'll just order more. And make sure you bring some chopsticks too! OH! And the one really great dish that you make! I love that junk!"

"And this will be paid in full I hope."

"You KNOW I have enough." Duo chuckled. "Oh, and watch the tube. I'll be on the air in three hours."

"I know you will, Duo. I'll be watching. I'm sure that the others will be too."

"They better! Or I'll just have them arrested!" Duo teased. "Nah! You know I wouldn't do that. I love you guys too much."


"Mr. President." Duo corrected him teasingly.

"Uhhg. NOW I have to address you as `Mr. President'? I've been calling you by your name the entire conversation…"

"I know! I was just kidding. Now what did you have to say?"

"I was gonna say, speaking of love. Have you seen…you know who lately?"

"I got his album…all four of his albums to be precise. I drive everyone here crazy with his blaring music. But have I seen him?" he sighed. "Not for quite a while. About…five, maybe six months. He's been real busy with his band and I've been busy getting the hang of being president."

"You never told me WHY you ran for president, Duo. You told Heero, but you never told the rest of us."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to forget." There was silence for a few seconds. WuFei heard him clearing his throat. "Well…there was this man…the one who I was running against, and he was…he was for Oz. He wanted to bring Oz back and stuff. He was a real loyal follower to Trieze. Could you imagine what would happen if HE became president?"

"I see. So you WERE taking actions into your own hands for a reason. I'm proud of you Duo Maxwell."

Very missed thunderous laughter split through the phone's receiver, "I do NOT believe what I'm hearing!" his laughter finally died down. "Thank you, WuFei. That was very nice of you."

"It's the truth." Duo couldn't see it, but he was grinning from ear to ear. "Now go knock them dead with your `very unusual' president speech, and dinner will be there as soon as possible."

"Don't let me down, Wu! Love ya! Ja ne!"


WuFei finally hung up the phone. He turned to his workers. "OK! Listen up! This is going to be the grandest and biggest order we've had to do! I expect you all to do your best and do it as fast as you can!"



President Maxwell's introduction was given, which was his cue to walk up to the podium. The deafening clapping was something that he had to get used to yet. In a black, unbuttoned suit with a white shirt underneath and loose fitted tie, Duo strode out; hands in his pockets, and his long braid brushing his heels.

This was it. This was his first public speech. So far he's kept his word from the presidential debate, and he plans to keep it that way.

The 36-year-old U.S. President slips off his dark shades and hooked them into the breast pocket of his white shirt. He cleared his throat. And as he was about to begin his speech, he unmistakably saw there, sitting in the front row of the audience, were his four best friends.