"Remade and Remodeled "

Written By: Artemis

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are copyright to Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and associated parties. I make no money with this fic.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Alternate reality, hurt/comfort, angst

Pairings: 6x2

Summary: The challenge of an outlandish bet brings unforeseen consequences

"Remade and Remodeled "

Zechs leaned against his desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed on the two art dealers before him. They were the best he knew, and though this was something of a gamble, he had faith that he had stumbled upon the next big thing.

The dealers walked around Eve, staring intently, pausing to "mmm," and "ahhh."

"Naïve," the man wearing half glasses said. "Almost childish."

"Yet brash like youth coming into manhood,” the woman said.

Zechs smiled. Reed and Cynthia were describing Duo, or rather his work, and it pleased him that Duo was so much a part of his art and his art a part of him. That combination made for truly great artists---or impossible ones. Either way, he knew a good review when he heard it.

"There are more… at least a dozen," Zechs said, pushing away from his desk.

"Does he work in other mediums? I'd love to see what he can do with a brush," Cynthia said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yes, he's working on several new pieces... on canvas."

The woman's eyes lit, not picking up on the lie. "I'd be very interested in having him exhibit at the Gallerie Siècle. I've got an opening next month---"

"Not soon enough. This young man's work has to be seen... now. I want him on the fast track and I thought you were the one's to put him there. If I was wrong about that---”

"No, of course not, Zechs. I didn't realize---”

"You know me well enough, Cynthia. My time is precious, and I know yours is as well. And Reed, what do you have to say?"

"Naïve is the rage this season. If his paintings are half as good as his sculptures I think we've got a real find on our hands. Where did you say you met him?"

"On the street... in the rain." Zechs smiled coyly.

+ + +

It was mid-day, and only the hour before Duo had crawled out of bed and into the living room to work on Apollo. Yes, it was definitely Apollo. After last night that had become perfectly clear. The hand of god was on Duo, touching his small life, beckoning him to bring the god of light, the perfect masculine beauty and patron of the arts to life in steel.

Knock, knock, knock.

Duo jumped, his concentration broken. He didn’t like visitors, since they usually weren’t the good kind. He set down his needle nose pliers and walked to the door, looking through the peep hole before saying a word.

All he saw was chest, but this time he knew to whom the navy suit and long hair belonged. Duo swallowed. Why had he encouraged this association? He could have ended it last night. Given the man Eve and been done with the payback. But no, he had listened to Zechs, let himself be wooed by the man’s stories of artists who had made it, and the confidence that rolled off him.

Perhaps Hilde was right and there was an underlying motivation. Why else would Zechs Merquise come down from the mountain top to help a mortal?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Duo? Are you home?”

It was no use. Duo was under his spell; captivated by the light, and dangerously curious about a man who was way out of his league.

With a deep breath, Duo unlocked and opened the door. Zechs whooshed into the room like a wind rushing passed him, and spinning on his heel to face Duo. His handsome face was oddly flushed as though he’d run up the flight of stairs to get here.

“What’s up?” Duo asked, more than a little curious about the surprise visit and the boxes wrapped in brown Kraft paper under Zechs’s arms.

“Do you paint?” Zechs asked, setting the packages on a chair.

“Paint what?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” Zechs took one the packages and tore it open to reveal a large, stretched canvas. “You’ll need to start right away. Your opening is Friday.”

“Opening?”

“I told you I’d handle everything.”

“You were serious?” Duo thought he heard a growl, but Zechs was standing perfectly still, his eyes boring into him. “Okay, but I don’t have time to paint. I’ve got to be at work in two hours.”

“Call your manager and tell him you won’t be in.”

“Yeah, right,” Duo chuckled. “That may work in your world, but around here it’s enough to get me fired.”

“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. You no longer need that job. By this time next week you’ll be the talk of the town.”

“Yeah? And what do I do in the meantime for food and rent?”

Zechs reached for his wallet and counted out ten hundred dollar bills. “This should cover your expenses for the week.”

Duo’s eyes widened. “You’re giving me a thousand dollars?”

“Not enough? Well, you can let me know if you need more.”

Duo took the money, but he felt his world spin holding it in his hand. What would it be like to have this kind of money—a billfold full of hundred dollar bills?

“I can’t re-pay this.”

“Consider it an investment.”

“Zechs, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m trouble. I’ve always been trouble---”

“I know all about you Duo Maxwell, about your life as a petty thief, and your probation for breaking and entering. That story is better than anything my marketing team could dream up. It’s going to help you on your way to the top.”

“I gotta sit down.” Duo dropped to the floor, cross legged and dizzy from all that was happening.

Zechs squatted before him. “Speak to your probation officer or whoever you need to, but get out of that job at Woodman’s, and get covering these canvases with art. I don’t care what you paint, landscapes, people, or rocket ships, just make it good and I’ll make you a star.”

Duo shook his head. “Friday, huh?”

Zechs smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

As quickly as Zechs had arrived, he was gone. Duo looked at the money and then to the packages on the chair. If he had doubts about what he had gotten himself into it was too late to back out now. He raised himself from the floor, stuffing the money in his pocket, and opened the boxes. It looked as though Zechs had bought out an art supply store of its canvases, oil paints, brushes, and even an easel.

Duo was an artist. He could draw and build things, but he had never spent much time painting other than in art class. So what would he paint now?

“Rocket ships?” He laughed.

No, it would need to be something more surreal, something of a backdrop to his three-dimensional creations.

+ + +

Zechs paced in his office. “Where is he?”

“The driver just reported in,” Noin said, closing the door behind her. “They’re on their way.”

Zechs sighed heavily. Once again he was not in control. Hell, who was he kidding? He hadn’t been in control since taking on Maxwell as his special project.

For two days he had tried to get a glimpse at Duo’s progress, but to no avail. The young man wouldn’t open the door, telling Zechs that he couldn’t possibly show him a work in progress. And so, Zechs had to settle for Duo’s reassurances.

Duo was on his way to the OZ complex for his photo shoot. Publicity for the gallery showing needed to begin in earnest, and that meant getting some head shots of the artist. Eve was already generating a buzz in the art community. Zechs had her photographed and postcards distributed the same day the art critics had reviewed her. Now, he needed to heighten the interest by revealing the man behind the art.

“Let me know when he’s ready for his shoot.” He would be patient that much longer, and then he would view his creation. He trusted the team of stylists to transform Duo.

“That should be in about two hours,” Noin said. “Have you phoned Lieutenant Po?”

Zechs’s brow knit. “The probation officer? I can do that now. Get her on the line.”

There had been a backlash when Duo had quit his job at the grocer’s. Oddly, the protest had not come from the store, but from the cop monitoring Duo’s life. She had been concerned about the impulsive change in employment, and now it was up to Zechs to calm her as he was so good at doing. He didn’t need her being a problem at this stage of the game.

“Yes, Lieutenant Po, this is Zech Merquise of OZ. Duo Maxwell’s benefactor.”

“Thank you for returning my call,” the female police officer said. “How do you know Duo?”

Her forwardness was commendable.

“We met by chance a week ago, and then I discovered his artistic talents.”

“Duo said you are arranging a gallery opening for him. Is that right?”

“Yes, it will be this Friday. I’ll have my assistant send you an invitation.”

“And how much is Duo being paid for all this?” Her tone was skeptical, and Zechs now regretted having this conversation over the phone. He was so much better in person.

“I am paying for all his art supply expenses, and have given him a living stipend. He will receive 60 percent of the sales from his art.”

“What if his work doesn’t sell?”

Zechs narrowed his eyes at the woman’s nerve to doubt him. “It will sell.”

“Forgive me for saying this, but this sounds too good to be true. Did Duo sign a contract? Is there something binding him to this arrangement?”

This police woman was good, and obviously cared about her charge.

“There is nothing to hold Duo to this arrangement other than our gentlemen’s agreement. I merely made a discovery of his talent and had the means to showcase it. Duo may take his success and talents where he chooses after the opening on Friday.”

“Your confidence in him is admirable, but you must know about his troubled past or you wouldn’t be speaking to me now.”

“Yes, he told me as much.”

“Then consider this, Mr. Merquise. I am aware of OZ and its machinations, and I know that this doesn’t add up. Duo was getting his life in order, and this so called ‘gentleman’s agreement’ sounds a bit one-sided.”

“I understand your doubts---”

“I don’t think you do,” she interrupted. “Duo’s a tough kid, but he’s living on the edge, and I don’t want you and your fairytales setting him up for a big fall.”

Zechs nearly growled, but the sting he felt from her words stopped him. Here was his conscious come to call, come to tell him that this bet he had with Treize could only end badly. She was perceptive to doubt his motives, but she was wrong to think that he would let Duo fall. He had become fond of the young man, fond enough that his own guilt over using him for this petty bet would ensure that Duo never had to worry about money again.

“Perhaps you will think differently after the opening Friday night.” He was feeling oddly defeated by this conversation, but at the same time more determined than ever to make something of Duo. “Thank you for your time, lieutenant. I look forward to meeting you in person.”

“And we will most definitely meet, Mr. Merquise.”

+ + +

Zechs made his way to the studio with Noin at his side. She was curious to meet Duo Maxwell, and had a right to an introduction after all her behind-the-scenes efforts. Zechs still hadn’t told her about the wager, but she clearly understood that his dealings with Duo were anything but the norm for him or OZ.

As they exited the elevator on the photography floor, Zechs’s stomach tightened. It was an odd sensation for a man who worked hard to eliminate the element of surprise from his life. Surely the feeling only heralded anxiety for the well being of his investment. There could be nothing more to it. But if that wasn’t enough, Zechs was promptly faced with one more surprise.

“Treize,” he said with a sigh.

OZ’s CEO was unmistakable even at one hundred paces. Standing over six feet tall, and wearing a designer suit in battleship gray, Treize loomed large on the landscape. He stood in the doorway of one of the photo shoot rooms.

“I wonder what he’s doing here,” Noin said.

Just then, they were sidled by Treize’s assistant, Une. She held up one of the promotional postcards of Eve and smiled.

“He’s checking on me?” Zechs asked.

“Merely curious,” Une said.

Zechs’s gaze narrowed. He and Treize had an unwritten rule that they would not butt into each other’s business unless asked. Though they met regularly in both business and social settings, the dynamics of client relations were rarely discussed. But this time, Zechs knew it was that damn bet propelling his mentor over the line.

He strode down the hall without another word, Noin trailing after him. Just as he approached, Treize turned to greet him.

“Old man,” Treize said, smiling. “You’re full of surprises these days.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Zechs said, taking his eyes from Treize and looking into the room.

Bathed in the flattering warmth of the studio’s lighting was Duo Maxwell. The boys’ hair was loosely braided and laid over his right shoulder. He wore a crisp white shirt left open to reveal smooth skin, and worn blue jeans and combat boots. The image was one of transformation—street tough to angel. Zechs was undone.

“Who is this Duo Maxwell? My people have never heard of him.”

Zechs grinned. He liked it when he stumped Treize, but it wouldn’t take long for him to puzzle out that Duo was part of their bet.

“He’s a young artist.”

Treize stepped closer, leaning toward his ear. “Are you sleeping with him?”

A wave of possessiveness surged through Zechs’s body. He was accustomed to Treize taking his toys, but this one was different. Duo had started out as just part of the game, but slowly, undetected by Zechs’s radar, he had become something more, something special.

“It’s not like that, Treize.”

“No? Then snap your jaw shut, man. You’re embarrassing yourself.” Treize chuckled, turned on his heel and headed down the hall.

Before he could reply, Zechs felt a hand at his elbow. It was Noin. “Let it go,” she said softly, standing at his side.

Zechs nodded. “Thank you, Noin.”

It was a good reminder that he should continue as planned. He stepped into the studio and one of the assistants approached.

“Mr. Merquise, it’s so nice to see you here.”

It was rather nice of him to come, he so rarely did. “I like what you’ve done,” Zechs said, looking toward Duo.

“Oh, that was Serge’s idea. He took one look at Duo, put that white shirt on him, mussed his hair and vóila! Of course, the hair and makeup people did their magic, too.”

The young man smiled, but Zechs wasn’t entirely pleased now. He didn’t like the idea that so many hands had been on Duo. And still not his.

“Hey, Zechs,” Duo called out. “Can you believe it? Look at me!”

“Yes… Look at you.” Zechs could hardly stop looking, and to keep up the appearance of control he walked over to the computer to examine the morning’s work. All the digital images were neatly shown as thumbnail-size in rows on the screen. The photographer had taken dozens of shots, and was still shooting. “Don’t you have enough, Serge?”

The cropped-haired man flashed Zechs a grin over his shoulder and then turned back to his subject. “I’m a perfectionist. That’s why you hired me.” Serge was standing just a couple feet in front of Duo, snapping close-ups.

“In relation to the investment I think you’ve shot enough.” Zechs’s tone was cold. He had had enough.

Serge straightened and turned to him. “If you say so, but look at that face…”

“I am looking, and I say it’s enough.”

Duo peered through the lights into the darkness where Zechs stood as if he was trying to discern the man’s motives. Zechs didn’t like the confusion he saw on the boy’s face, but this was business, and he wasn’t about to explain.

“We’re done here, Duo.” Serge reached out and shook Duo’s hand. “It was great working with you.”

“Thanks,” Duo said, hopping off the stool and stretching his arms. “Or maybe I should wait to see the photos before I thank you?” He laughed.

Serge laughed, too. “It was your first time. I went easy on you.” He put a hand on Duo’s upper arm and squeezed.

It seemed Duo was building quite a fan club. But Zechs kept his cool and held his tongue.

“Veronica will get you cleaned up,” Serge said.

Duo nodded and walked over to where Zechs was standing by the computer. “Hey, boss man, what do you think?” Duo smiled and then looked at the monitor. “Whoa, I didn’t realize you’d taken that many shots.”

“I told you… painless,” Serge said from across the room.

“So, what do you think, Zechs?” Duo asked.

“Serge is very good. I have no doubt my production team will have what they need.”

“You make me sound like a commodity.”

“This is business, Duo. It’s what we do.”

“Turn people into… stuff?”

“Nothing so inconsequential,” Zechs said. “Remember, I told you I’d make you a star and that’s what I’m doing.” Those big blue eyes were staring up at him again, and Zechs was unsure if he’d disappointed Duo somehow. “It’s what we agreed on.”

“Yeah, looks like you’ve remade me, huh? That must be one hell of a power rush.”

“Did you expect anything less? This is OZ, after all.”

~ * ~

Chapter 8

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