omnicat: (for GW - Middie)
Omnicat ([personal profile] omnicat) wrote2010-11-19 08:01 am

FIC: When Spies meet the Ghost of Love Disasters Past [Gundam Wing, Middie & Meilan]

Title: When Spies meet the Ghost of Love Disasters Past
Author: Omnicat
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Episode Zero
Warnings: Language, one mention of pot and whiskey each.
Pairings: None.
Disclaimer: *checks tickybox*
Summary: Middie Une meets the ghost of Meilan, runs out of patience for anything ever.
Author’s Note: “When Spies have...” side-ficlet. Set between “No Good, Very Bad Days” and “Hopefully Ever Afters”.
Also, covert crossover. Sorry kid, you did grow on me a bit, but you just make it too easy.



When Spies meet the Ghost of Love Disasters Past

Middie said a little prayer to her dearly departed sanity while she lit the endless amount of candles the handbook had recommended, but did not stop herself from sitting down by the spirit board. After meeting Treize-freaking-Khushrenada on a cloud with a halo over his head, she was pretty much done questioning the sanity of anything.

“Oh veil-piercing coffee machine of the dead, please answer my call, please allow me to gossip with the departed dear one of a gundam pilot.” she chanted as best she could, keeping one eye on the copy of Modern Séances: Reach The Recently Dead In Twelve Easy Steps lying open beside her and the other on the hot coffee she carefully poured onto the very centre of the board, from where it spread through a maze of carved grooves and formed a dark, wet pattern against the cheap plywood. “Oh distant acquaintance of a distant acquaintance, please hear the bubble and sputter of a nice fresh cuppa and come gossip across the veil of death with the distant acquaintance of a distant acquaintance.”

And what do you know: amidst the potent smell of coffee, pine and what she could have sworn was marihuana, a translucent silvery shape welled up from the board, like a particularly large and deformed soap bubble.

Middie barely managed to keep from banging her face against the soiled wood, slapping her palm to her forehead instead. Of course it works. OF COURSE. WHY THE HELL WOULDN’T IT?!

There was an even bigger problem than her now confirmed insanity, though: the lone annoyed-looking, teenaged, female, Asian ghost was most certainly not who Middie had called for.

‘Who the hell are you?’ the ghost-girl asked, her voice echoing eerily.

“Who the hell are you?” Middie countered.

‘I asked first!’

“My name is Middie Une,” she sighed. Why fight it? Maybe it was better this way. “I’m the one who called you down from your cloud.”

The girl swelled with indignation. ‘You did that? Then I sure as hell ain’t telling you my name.’

“Fine, fine. All I want to know is - what the hell do you have to do with the gundam pilots?”

‘Have to do with them? I am a gundam pilot! I was once the pilot of the mother of all mobile suits, gundams or not. And you could even say -’ - the girl cast a quick smirk to the ceiling - ‘- that since the greatest of mobile suits, Shenlong, was named for me and became my shrine, I am not only a gundam pilot, but a gundam.’

Outside resounded an inexplicable clap of thunder.

‘That’s right, you heard me, you loser!’

“Shenlong?” Middie groaned meanwhile. “That wasn’t Trowa’s gundam, that was...” She wracked her brain. “Wufei’s. Nataku, is it?”

‘Oh, you guessed.’ the girl said dismissively. She looked around Middie’s cluttered floor as if searching for something. ‘If you had to drag me down here for nothing anyway, you could have at least brought some sweets to go with the coffee.’

“If I give you sweets, could you patch me through to Mr or Mrs Bloom? If they don’t mind, I’d like to ask some questions about their son.”

‘Never heard of ’em. But even a former girl turned legendary warrior spirit has her needs, you know, and I might go poltergeist if you -’

“Alright, alright, forget it!” Middie pulled a box of chocolates from her shopping bag, removed the cardboard lid and shook them from their little plastic beds onto the spirit board. “Will you at least get lost now?”

‘With pleasure!’ Nataku crowed, dove face-first into the pile of chocolate, and disappeared.

Middie cleaned up the mess and broke out her special bottle of whiskey.



PSAN: The thing I miss most during periods of writer’s block is that feeling you get at certain points during the writing process, and the lingering sensation once you’ve finished a fic, of “Oh yeah, baby. I rule. I AM A FUCKING MAD GENIUS.” Even though, you know, it’s most likely that nobody but you will ever care about what exactly you’ve put into the fic, and even if they did, they’d be more likely to think “Wow. You’re an idiot.”.


Spies Of Our Lives
   When Spies meet Howard’s Hawaiian, and Its Namesake
When Spies have Job Interviews
   When Spies meet their Karmic Twins
When Spies have Boring Assignments
   When Spies meet Wise Old Masters
When Spies have Interesting Assignments
   When Spies meet No-One. In Fact, This Never Happened
When Spies have Days Off
   When Spies meet the No-Nonsense, Unimpressed Truth
When Spies have Family Outings
   When Spies meet Relatives for Rent
When Spies have Utterly Bizarre Assignments
   When Spies meet the Undead Doctor
When Spies have No Good, Very Bad Days
   When Spies meet the Ghost of Love Disasters Past
When Spies have Reconciliation, Finally!
   When Spies meet Their Ever After
Middie Une shows up out of nowhere and enlists with the Preventers. Paranoia ensues. Or it would, if Trowa had any say in it.

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