"What do you want for lunch, Duo?" Quatre asked from the refridgerator door.
"I don't care..." Duo replied, craning his neck to look in the direction of the kitchen. "You choose, kay, Quat?"
"Okaay," Quatre said, looking at the contents of the fridge.
"What the hell is this?" Duo asked looking at the nearly hot pink looking block on his plate.
"Lunch..." Quatre said, placing his equally pink block of stuff on a bun.
"Doesn't look like it to me," Wufei said, poking the thing with his fork.
Trowa just looked at his lover's cooking. "........."
"Hn," Heero said, shoving the entire cube into his mouth and chewing happily.
Duo stared at him, his face turning green. Quickly, before he could spill the contents of his empty stomach on the kitchen floor, he scrambled to the bathroom. The other pilots were left looking at the place where the Shinigami pilot had once sat and listening to the wretching sounds coming from the hall bathroom.
"What?" Heero asked to the air.
Wufei followed Duo's example and vacated the room before his nausea could develope enough for he himself to purge the nearly-nonexistant contents of his stomach. Trowa also quietly got up and left.
Quatre looked at the retreating backs and he and Heero spoke at the same time. "What? It's just Spam."