A Gundam Carol

a Gundam Wing Christmasfic
by Kaoru

Hi-dee-ho! Me again. This fic was spawned a few months ago, but I hope I get this out in time...

My deepest apologies to Charles Dickens and his fans for using his story like this, but I just couldn't resist!

Please send C&C to namikata@rocketmail.com Tell me what you think of my fic!

Standard Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and the characters appearing in this work of fiction belong to Sotsu Agency, Sunrise and Bandai. No profit is intended, guys, I do this just to spread the word of your wonderful series! (crosses fingers and hopes)

Jingle all the way....

The snow covered streets glistened in the frosty light of the winter sun as snugly bundled up children ran through them, screaming in delight as they pelted each other in playful snowball fights. The shops were bedecked in all manner of streamers and baubles, reflecting the sunlight in a kaleidoscopic riot of colour and heralding the arrival of the joyous Yuletide season. All over the city, people wished each other peace and joy for the holidays and loud, merry voices.

As the sky began to bloom with honeyed tints, the street lamps lit themselves to illuminate the journey home for many a weary Christmas shopper, while the twinkling shopfronts grew even more dazzling in the fading light. On a street corner, a candle-bearing choir began to sing familliar carols while one of their party collected contributions for the needy from generous passersby. He approached one lone pedestrian trudging through the snow, with his woollen hat held out.

"A little something for the less fortunate this Christmas?"

The bullet from the stranger's handgun missed his temple by a fraction of an inch.

Now, this wasn't the kind of reaction the poor boy was expecting of course, much like you don't expect to get stampeded on by a herd of wild African elephants in the middle of having a nice relaxing hot shower on a Friday evening, so he ran off, accompanied by the rest of his troupe, screaming into the fast approaching night.


Heero tucked his gun back into his spandex shorts, not noticing that this was physically impossible given the size he wore, or that it was ten degrees below and that he should have frozen to death by now in his skimpy green tanktop. He continued, stony as ever, plodding through the suddenly and curiously empty streets, oversized sneakers thudding dully in the snow, to his destination.

His destination of course was a stately private school, one of those nameless and ubiquitous intitutions where he and his teammate were staked out at while repairing their Gundams. He leapt over the stone walls surrounding the compound and climbed the trellis to his room without so much as setting off the alarms, if there were any to begin with. For a private school, the security sure sucked. There was a war going on, for crying out loud! Maybe they were all reality-challenged like Relena Peacecraft.

He shuddered at the thought of that insufferable creature.

He hauled himself through the velvet curtained window and dumped the large bag he was carrying unceremoniously in front of his Chinese roommate.

"Dammit Yuy, it's about time you came back with the stuff! It's a wonder Nataku isn't rusted solid by now!"

"Humbug." Heero flopped down on his bed while Wufei rummaged about in the canvas sack.

"Hey, I specifically said to get the *good* spark plugs! How am I going to start up Nataku with these secondhand, *Made in Taiwan* spare parts?! Now I'll have to go back and get them myself!" With that, Wufei got up and stalked off out of the school in the direction of the town, grumbling about how on earth he was going to find new spark plugs on Christmas Eve.

Heero didn't even notice him leave, being fast asleep on the bed.

* * *

"Heero Yuy."

No response.

"I said, Heero Yuy!"

The stars in the late evening sky twinkled nonchalantly at the ghost, who by now sported the spectral equivalent of a very large sweatdrop down the back of his head. From a dimensional pocket, the ghost pulled out an oversized and ridiculously cartoonish loudhailer and pointed it straight at the sleeping boy.


Heero started out of his slumber and by reflex, pulled out his trusty handgun at the source of the voice.

"Treize Khushrenada?"

The ghost gave a polite little cough and straightened his phantom uniform jacket, no mean feat considering that heavy iron chains were shackled to his arms. "I have been sent to warn you of your faaaaaaate.... A fate worse that deeeeeaaath.... Repent, Yuy, before it's toooooooo laaaaaate..."

A bullet sliced through the ghost's incorporeal chest to embed itself firmly in the wall behind him..

"Get to the point, Khushrenada."

"Okay, okay... aren't we testy tonight? You will be visited by three ghosts tonight, Yuy. The Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present and the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come."

"Uh-huh. Tell me another one."

"No, really. They will show you the error of your ahem, ways."

"And what 'ways' would those be?"

"Hmm, well..." Heero could have sworn that the ghost was blushing. "Erm.. you'll find out."

"Riiiight. So what do you have to do with all this?"

"Well..." The ghost shifted uncomfortably in his cloud of ectoplasm. Little clanking sounds followed. "I'm in this state now because I couldn't, uhm, commit to a certain Chinese boy..."

"I don't want to know..." Heero turned back onto his pillow and endeavoured to take up the worthy pursuit of sawing logs once more.

"If you don't repent, you'll suffer a fate worse than death, Yuy! I've seen it! It's horrible! You hear me, Yuy!" The ghost rattled his chains for effect. "Repent, Yuy, before it's too late! Repeeeeeennt...."


"Oh, why do I even bother."

The ghost shrugged, and disappeared in a few elegant wisps of smoke.

* * *

In the dead of the night, the time where even the creatures of the dark settle into a peaceful quietude, nothing stirs, not even the leaves in the trees, not even the still surface of a dark, icy stream; not even the wind dares whisper to break the tranquil silence.

Except this was not such a night.

Somewhere in the dark, a quiet, tinkling melody played, its trilling notes seeming to make their way out from all over the forests in glimmering pink sparkles that coalesced into a glittering, luminescent pearl. This light, no bigger than a candle flame, hovered in the air for a while, as if unsure of its purpose. Then, with a little flick, it was off, dancing on the mist through the forest from which it came, towards a large stately building on the outskirts of a city with no name.

The shimmering mote spied the boy sleeping in one of the rooms in the building and immediately brightened, the melody soaring with a air of rising jubilation as it streaked towards the window.

And collided rather painfully with the hard glass.

The merry little tune faltered a bit as the flickering sphere slid down the smooth cold pane, but picked up once more as the little pink light danced around the edges of the window, searching for any gap it could squeeze through. This it did find, and was soon bobbing above the deeply slumbering youth.

Somehow sensing that the boy wasn't about to get up anytime soon, the little pink light bristled a bit and wafted under the boy's nose several times.

This had the desired effect of course, and Heero woke up with a loud sneeze that would have put a typical hurricane to shame.

"What the hell?!"

The pink light grew, and resolved itself into the figure of a pale, blue-eyed blonde boy, wearing a beatific smile, a strategically placed pink sash, and little else.

"Qu... Quatre? What's the meaning of this?"

"I'm one of your hosts for this evening, the Ghost of Christmas Past!" the angelic blonde announced with an irresistably cute wink. "I'm here to show you the error of your ways!" He seemed obscenely cheerful.

"Jeez... Trieze wasn't kidding."

"What was that?"


"Well then, let's go! We haven't got all night!"

"Huh? Where?"

"Into my Space Heart, silly!" Quatre pouted adorably. "I'll show you your past from there!"


"Aw, please?"


"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"I'm not going!"

"Aw, looks like we'll have to do this the hard way..."

Heero barely had time to react before he was formally introduced to a very large (and very solid) wooden mallet.

* * *

"Wh... where am I?" Heero rubbed the large lump on his head.

"Why, we're in my Space Heart of course! I brought you here! I was wondering when you'd wake up. Sometimes I don't know my own strength when I'm using Ol' Betsy here. Did I hit you too hard?" the Ghost giggled innocently, patting the inordinately large mallet slung across his shoulder.


"Guess not! Let's go then!" The uncannily jubilant Ghost half dragged the still woozy Heero by the arm across a cloudy landscape, towards a particularly large fluffy white bank. Heero did not of course appreciate being yanked around by a half naked, mallet-happy Gundam pilot and said so, only to have the wind knocked out of him again by Ol' Betsy.

Heero took a deep breath to reinflate his lungs and sputtered as he choked on a passing cloud. He regained his composure after a few solid thumps to the back from the concerned Ghost, who thankfully used his hands instead of the mallet. He looked up to see a huge glass television screen framed by unbearably cute, heart-shaped clouds, covered with motifs of little songbirds carrying silken ribbons and families of bunny rabbits holding bouquets of cottony flowers.

He would have sweatdropped if he had the strength.

With a giggle, the Ghost of Christmas Past pulled out a sleek black remote control from nowhere and pointed it at the sugar-coated screen, which blinked to reveal a colourful test pattern bearing the words 'QUATRE-VISION' in pretty signature font.

"Now we'll see just how much of a naughty boy you've been!" the Ghost tinkled along, never losing his good cheer. He pressed a button on the remote and the saccharine test pattern faded out to reveal the interior of a large disused hangar and two figures huddled over the the innards of a prostrate Gundam.

"Hey... that was last Christmas! Duo and I were infiltrating that Oz base and he got his Gundam wrecked and..."

"Shhh... I know. Just keep watching." The Ghost was lounging on a sofa-shaped cloud, munching on a bucket of pink popcorn. The pink sash dropped to the brink of indecency as the Ghost reached for another handful of the the sweet, sticky confection.

Somewhat unsettled, Heero turned back and kept his eyes firmly glued to the screen. The camera zoomed in to focus on the two shadowy figures, who seemed to be having a little argument. A one-sided argument, to be exact.

'"I thought I asked you to check the oil before we left for the base, man! No wonder my Gundam went down!"

'"Hn. You were supposed to check yourself."

'"Hey no fair, Heero! You owe me for the time you filched my spare parts! You could have at least done me a favour!"


'"That's it! Gimme back my parts! And I want my rearview mirrors and fuzzy dice back too! Do you know how much those things cost nowadays?!"

'"..." the tanktop-clad figure began to move away. The other boy tossed his braid back and pouted. Mere seconds later, he was up and after his taciturn teammate, latching on to his arm.

'"Aww, Heero, you know I couldn't be mad at you for long! How about we kiss and make up? Ne, Heero? Ne?" He puckered up at the stony face.

And was socked soundly in the gut.

The screen faded out from the lone, figure curled into a foetal ball and a plaintive "Owwwwww....." to the test pattern once more.

"Well he asked for it. Can I go now?"

"Uh-uh, there's more," the Ghost chided, waving towards the screen once more.

Heero sighed, and resigned himself to watching badly filmed reruns from his life.

The screen faded out again, this time to a grand mansion fronted by a breathtaking view of the sea. The camera panned indulgently from the mansion to the wide expanse of the ocean and lingered briefly on the golden stretch of beach, before finally resting on a cliff a short distance from the building.

Atop this cliff lay the prone figure of a lone boy, arms around a carefully propped up laser sighted sniper rifle, waiting.

"Hey, this isn't Christmas."

"It's your past, isn't it? Now shush! We're just getting to the good part."

From the mansion, there emerged a girl dressed in a magenta Victorian-style school uniform. She ran to the beach, and cautiously took of her slippers to splash in the cool seawater lapping at the shore.

The scene shifted to the sniper, who tensed at sighting his target. A soft zephyr whispered across him, rippling his green tanktop in tandem with the blades of grass that hid him from view. The scene shifted again, this time to a view of the girl on the beach, dark blonde hair blowing in the wind as she cavorted in the waves, within the sighting lines of the sniper rifle. The sniper himself could be heard taking a deep breath as he homed in on the kill.

Suddenly, through the sighting device, the girl looked up.

"Agh!" Heero started at the screen, feeling his heart skip a beat. Obviously, the shock of being spotted by the Peacecraft girl hadn't worn off from the last time.

Meanwhile, the sniper onscreen began to tremble. His breathing quickened as he wiped off the sweat beading on his brow. His finger tightened on the trigger of the rifle as he licked his dry lips and gulped. Tension was high as he prepared to finish his original mission once and for all. He held his breath and slowly flexed his trigger finger.

At the last moment, he stopped, packed up his rifle and fled, running off into the sunset.

The Ghost of Christmas Past nearly spilled the bucket of popcorn he had momentarily stopped eating from in the midst of the tension, all over the cloud.

"I.. got spooked." Heero mumbled.

The Ghost tsked in irritation and waved the giant television screen away in an audible 'poof'. "You've been a very, very bad boy, Heero," he admonished, waving a finger at the Gundam pilot.

"Now do you see the error of your ways?"

Heero just glared at him.

"Oh well, I've done all I can here," the Ghost sighed at the inpenetrable boy before him, "Looks like it's up to the Ghost of Christmas Present to fix you up!" he announced, positivity once more oozing from his pores.

"And there he is now!" the scantily-clad Ghost pointed excitedly behind Heero. "I can't wait for him to get here," he breathed.

Heero could have sworn that the Ghost of Christmas Past had a distinctly hungry gleam in his eyes as he turned to meet his next visitor.

Through the misty surroundings, he glimpsed a tallish figure making its way towards them. As the mist cleared, what he saw almost made him fall over laughing. Almost. Hey, we're talking about Heero Yuy here!

Trowa looked like he had just stepped out from a dress rehearsal of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He trod over the clouds softly in green, holly-trimmed leather boots to his calves. A green loincloth decorated with nuts, twigs and berries slung from his shoulder to his hips, while a wreath of fresh holly graced his long bangs.

The Ghost of Christmas Past stepped out from behind Heero and glided over to the other Ghost, allowing his sash to drop suggestively, as he swept the taller boy into a graceful dip and took him in a long, deep, earth-shaking, life-affirming, 'Frankly-my-dear-I-don't-give-a-damn' kiss.

He drew back after what seemed like forever from the Ghost of Christmas Present, and with a decidedly feral grin, bent to whisper into his ear in a voice an octave below his usual alto that could very well be described as seductive.

"I'll be waiting for you, my... Christmas Present," he breathed in a tone which suggested that he might be looking forward to celebrating an early Boxing Day as he let the other Ghost go, disappearing in a whirl of pastel ribbons.

Heero, on the other hand, was a little too preoccupied with the show the two Ghosts had unwittingly (or not) put on in front of him to notice that the clouds had gone with the Ghost of Christmas Past as well, and that he was back in his dorm room.

The Ghost of Christmas Present seemed unpreturbed with the slack-jawed Gundam pilot staring at him, and deciding that this was a good thing since he now had his undivided attention, opened the window and jerked a thumb in the direction of the city.

"Wha.. wha.. wha.. wha.."

Obviously, the boy had not yet recovered from what he'd just seen.

With a shrug, the Ghost of Christmas Present withdrew three glittering baubles from his loincloth (don't ask me how) and proceeded to juggle them, slowly at first, them faster and faster until they became a blur in his hands. Then with a flick of a holly-circled wrist, they were gone as he deftly held his hand in front of Heero's face and snapped his fingers.

The boy's earthly body fell on the floor in a satisfying thump, leaving his spirit to gape in ethereal wonder.

The feeling of spiritual transmigation is somewhat akin to having the floor you're standing on with a large measure of confidence suddenly drop out from under you whilst you remain suspended in thin air from nothing more than the inch-thick noose around your neck.

That having been said, the Ghost of Christmas Past once again motioned for the quite literally, disembodied boy to follow him into the city. Heero of course, had no choice, seeing as his body was lying dead in the middle of the room and he had nowhere else to go. He really wasn't in the best of spirits right now (very punny, so sue me), so there was nothing for it but to follow.

* * *

Heero Yuy did not scream.

He didn't fly either, at least without the aid of a Gundam, but these little factoids did not stop him from doing what he did now, which was flying through the stratosphere and screaming at the top of his lungs, in the wake of a terribly placid Christmas Ghost with rubber bungs in his ears.

However, he did manage to disrupt the radars of several Oz outposts sufficiently to cause an ugly collision between a freighter carrying several hundred crates of ammunition and a shuttle full of junior Oz officers en route to a vacation in the Bahamas. Only a steering wheel and a coconut survived.

Let it never be said that Heero Yuy wasn't the perfect soldier, even when off duty.

They arrived after much flying around, in the thick, velvety fog that rolled through the streets of the city. The street lamps glowed through the mist, throwing long beams of light onto the ground below.

The current meteorological conditions briefly threw Heero into a flashback of his earlier supernatural encounter but he quickly pushed it out of his mind and kept his thoughts firmly fixed on the task at hand.

Which was, at the moment, walking down a suspiciously foggy street with a ridiculously (but thankfully) clothed fellow Gundam pilot.

As if on cue, the mist parted to reveal a line of closed hardware stores.

"What the... " Heero spluttered, "What's going on?"

The Ghost of Christmas Present simply shrugged and pointed at a shadowy figure trudging furiously though the snow several yards away. Frustrated grumbling noises were heard coming from its general direction, words which faintly resembled 'bakayarou', 'spark plug' and 'injustice'.

Wufei stomped past the umpteenth hardware store with a large, cheery 'CLOSED' sign hanging in the window. "Damn you!" He shook a fist at the glass pane that separated him from several gleaming Made-in-Japan spark plugs that winked tantalizingly out of reach in the dim street lights.

This happened several times over until he reached the the last of the stores and he slumped dejectedly against the glass, sliding down in utter defeat onto the cold hard ground. A choked whisper escaped from his lips.

"I'm not worthy of you, Nataku... "

A sweatdrop formed on the back of both Heero and Trowa's heads.

"Ah, my little dragon."

Heero jumped at the voice that suddenly issued right next to him.

"Trieze Khushrenada?" Heero gaped incredulously as he prodded the curiously tangible Oz general in the arm. "Aren't you supposed to be a ghost or something?"

Trieze merely straightened his dress cravat with an air of dignified elegance and smiled a slight, debonair smile.

"I was given a second chance, my friend. I suggest you take yours too, for you might not be so lucky." He cast a conspiratorial grin towards the Ghost of Christmas Present before turning to Heero. "Remember the 'fate worse than death'? I wasn't joking, you know." With that cryptic remark, he strode off towards the sulking Chinese boy in front of the darkened store.

Wufei looked up at the sound of snow crunching beneath uniform boots to meet the radiant gaze of the highest ranking military officer in Oz. Trieze seemed to exude a soft light, which fanned out from his honey blonde locks in a delicate, angelic aura.

He stepped out of the path of the street lamp and held out his fist, unfolding his fingers slowly to reveal a shiny metallic article that had been the object of Wufei's midnight quest. The boy's eyes widened in wonderment at the sight of his saviour, much like an infidel who has seen the light for the first time.

The Oz general gently lifted the boy up and enfolded him in strong arms, while Wufei himself melted into the embrace, quaking sobs giving way to more relaxed and comforted sighs.

A nerve twitched in Heero's eyelid. The Ghost of Christmas Present just watched placidly.

"Can. We. Go. Now." Heero muttered through gritted teeth.

With a wave, The Ghost of Christmas Present conjured up yet another choking mist which enveloped both of them in masses of swirling vapour. When it cleared once more, Heero found himself in an uncomfortably familliar office, in front of an uncomfortably familliar writing desk, looking at an uncomfortably familliar head of blonde hair behind an uncomfortably familiar laptop.

With a shriek, he scrambled to hide behind the Ghost as he realized just whose office he was in.

Relena, of course, couldn't see him, but even if she could, she was currently too preoccupied with the information that flashed across the computer screen to notice. The monochrome letters lit up the screen in a frenzy that illuminated her face with an unearthly green cast, and reflected off her widening eyes in a most unsettling manner. Her lips curved into a smile that most ignorant folk would consider sweet.

"Heero... I've found you again... " she sighed dreamily.

The frantic tugging at his arm told the Ghost of Christmas Present that this would probably be a good time to leave.

* * *

Moments later, Heero was back in his dorm room alone, panting and shaking, not from the wild flight back, but from the realization that *the Peacecraft knew where he was*.

It was a frightening thought.

So frightening in fact that he promptly switched on his own computer to arrange for an immediate transfer to another school. He had to get out of here before the Peacecraft found him. His mission, nay, his very life depended on it!

He didn't get very far, however, as a light footfall behind him made him spin around, gun in hand.

Death glowered at him facelessly from ten feet above.

Heero nearly fell off his chair. How many shocks could a guy take in one night?

The shrouded figure loomed in front of him, cloak a deep abyss of midnight blue that mirrored the colour of a starlit sky. A mysterious wind swept around the impossibly tall figure, sending the swathes of its dark shroud flying in a flurry of movement that made it seem as if it was swaying gently though it was standing absolutely still. It cut a sinister, imposing figure with its arm outstretched, brandishing a glowing thermal scythe, which not surprisingly, didn't strike Heero as being familliar, given his present state of mental paralysis.

It was this paralysis, of course, that rendered him completely speechless as the Ghost sized him up, or down rather, in the dead of the night with only the stars twinkling innocently above. Then again, it was more likely that they weren't innocent at all, but rather pretending not to notice how a strong breeze could blow in a room where all the windows were closed.

Heero, meanwhile had managed to recover a few cubic feet of air back into his lungs to stammer, "Y.. you.. Ghost.. Yet to Come?"

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come did not answer, but stepped aside to reveal a swirling, multicoloured miasma behind him. Heero could not help but be entranced by the riot of colour that warped his vision and played tricks on his mind.

Slowly, the flashing lights subsided and merged to form a scene in a rustic country cabin. A blazing fire danced in the hearth, while a glorious Christmas tree stood in a corner, trimmed with streamers, diaphanous glass balls and a glittering star on the topmost bough. A multitude of presents littered the floor below.

Heero rocked back and forth in a chair by the fire, the warm glow picking out tiny streaks of grey in his dark hair, and outlining the firm, mature profile of his face. He sat, gazing at the red brick fireplace and the row of Christmas stockings hung neatly across the top.

A pink, lace-trimmed one...

A no-nonsense, army green cotton one...

And a whole row of smaller socks, some conservative and simple, others with cute animal motifs.


Heero got up from his chair and turned towards the sound. It was only now that the glazed, faraway look in his eyes could be seen. A giggling child bounded into the room, followed by others of various ages who crowded around him. They each bore strangely familliar features in various combinations.

Prussian blue eyes with long blonde hair...

Light blue eyes with tousled dark brown hair...

Thick blonde eyebrows or thin brown ones...

"Heero-darling," a female voice sounded from the doorway. "Merry Christmas!"

He turned, his face plastered in a 'not-quite-there' smile, towards the source of the voice.

It was Relena, holding a tray of milk and cookies.

It was quite a while before Heero realized he was screaming and clutching the cloak of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come in sheer, unadulterated terror. It was even longer before the initial shock of the vision of his future wore off and he dared to let go. He backed into a corner of his room, gasping.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come regarded the whimpering wreck solemnly, his cloak rippling in the uncanny breeze. Long moments passed in complete silence as the Ghost watched Heero mouth unintelligible phrases in the semi-darkness.

Suddenly, with a whoosh, the Ghost seemed to jump up in the air to land in a crouch in front of Heero. A pair of five-foot-tall wooden stilts clattered to the floor behind him. The hood of the shroud fell back to reveal a pair of cobalt eyes glittering with an infinite wisdom (not to mention a heavy dose of lust) and a long, thick chestnut braid that draped languidly over a single creamy, bare shoulder.

"So," Duo grinned, "Now do you see the error of your ways?"

Heero nodded vigorously.

"Mmm, good," the Ghost purred, "Let me help you get back on the right track."

In a flash, the Chost of Christmas Yet To Come swooped down upon Heero and proceeded to change the course of his future.

* * *

"Heero! Heeeeeeeeeeeerooooooo....!"

An annoying voice shattered the calm of the early morning, waking Heero from his sleep. He got up out of bed and stumbled to open the window. The morning breeze was chill on his bare skin, but what he saw below sent the chill straight to his bones.

Relena stood below his window, a smug look on her face. "Do you know what day it is today, Heero? It's Christmas! And here's your present!" she twirled around in her dress.

Heero took no chances this time. He pulled out his gun from somewhere and shot the intolerable pest.

"Ninmu... kanryou."

He stood at the window, appreciating for the first time in his life, a truly beautiful morning. The sun seemed brighter, the birds more musical in their song, and the air was fresher and more fragrant than it had ever been. He took in a deep, refreshing breath, and completely ignored the delighted cawing of the ravens who had already begun to home in on the bloodstained patch of snow below.

An arm wrapped itself around him and pulled him down from the window to the floor.

"Heero... *my* Heero..."

And so, the boy known as Heero Yuy was saved from a fate worse than death (death of course, being the lesser and definitely more pleasurable of the two evils) and the world was made a good and happy place once more.

The End!

Trowa: I didn't get a speaking line in the fic...

Kaoru: Aw, I'm *so* sorry Trowa-kun, let me make it up to you. How about a nice romantic beachside getaway with Quatre-chan and all the whipped cream you could want?

Trowa: Oooohh...

Merry Christmas everybody!


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