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"Operation Operative Operation"Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: R Warnings: Language Summary: Someone wants to steal Duo's appendix. While its still in him? Pairings: 1 + 2 + 3
"Operation Operative Operation "
Part 4. As he clasped Duo in his arms, Trowa became acutely aware of the wet spot on his pajamas. The smell of fresh ejaculate, stirred by the physical contact, wafted up to greet his nostrils. "Oh, company?" Trowa's cock cooed. "Duo?" Barton asked, trying to disengage himself without dropping the other boy. "Hey, Trowa. What a surprise," Maxwell grinned, his confusion yielding to an appearance of real delight. "Its been ages." "A while," Barton agreed, inching away from his whole body press, and gradually toward one hand on an elbow support. "I hesitate to say anything so trite. But what are you in for?" I help you with your cover, you help me with mine? Nudge, nudge. "Appendectomy," Maxwell frowned. "You?" "Impacted third molar," Barton pointed to his fake swelling. He surreptitiously held a slobber-filled gauze between his cheek and gum. "Ouch," Duo reached up a single finger, gingerly touching Trowa's cheek before withdrawing the invading hand. "Damn. Sorry I crammed into you. I was told to report to Elective Surgery. But somehow nobody here seems to know a wretched thing about it." Further supporting Barton's supposition that Duo wasn't here for actual surgery. That he was here undercover, investigating Elective Surgery for a dirty money scam. Or, possibly, was a part of the scam. And in on the dirty money take. "Mr Maxwell?" the desk clerk called in dulcet tones. "Yo," Duo replied, stepping up to lean against the counter. "So far, I'm having trouble finding you: A) an assigned bed, B) an admitting physician, and C) your medical record. Other than that, things are going just great. Are you absolutely certain that you exist?" She was a statuesque woman with a coffee plus cream complexion, a lyrical Caribbean accent, and a wonderful chuckle. "Well, Ms Westover," Duo grinned at her. "I think, therefore I am. My appendix don't think, therefore it ain't. Problem solved. I'll just go back to L2 now, if you don't mind." "Not so fast, young man. You're not off the hook that easily." "All right. I'll hang around a while longer, just for laughs. And I do appreciate your effort. Actually, the couch in the patient lounge, being just next to the soda machine, is good. I guess I'll take up residence there for the duration. But if I go into sugar-overload from living on pop, I cannot be held responsible for my actions." "The bed next to mine is unoccupied," Trowa offered. "Really, which department?" Ms Westover asked. "Head and Neck." "They do take our overflow sometimes," the clerk agreed. "You two friends?" "Maxwell and I go way back," Trowa rested his hand on Duo's shoulder. "Let me guess. You had the same nanny?" "Hey, we're not as young as we look," Trowa protested. "You couldn't be," Ms Westover stated wryly. "Use your phone?" Barton asked. He dialed, then spoke. "Dr Denne. This is your patient, Trowa Barton. I've got an old wartime buddy checking in. Can he have the bed next to mine?" Dr Denne asked if it pertained to Barton's investigation. "That's right. Would you please give the clerk the go-ahead? Sorry to bother you, sir. Thank you." After Denne communicated his approval, Barton told Ms Westover his bed number. In the computer, she added Duo's name to the next bed. "My doctor is best friends with my Preventers' boss." With a dismissive shrug, Barton explained his ability to pull strings so readily. "Well, that should help things," the clerk told Duo chipperly. "With any luck at all, your admitting physician has your medical record. And will find your name in the comp now that you have a bed assignment." Maxwell rested his forehead on his arms, folded onto the counter top. "Trow, you're a life saver." "Pineapple or wild cherry?" Barton quipped, lifting Duo's duffle with one hand, and grasping the boy's elbow with the other. "Walk this way." "If I could walk that way, I'd be in the circus. Man, my legs feel a little shaky." "You jet lagged?" "Guess so." "Here we go. Just one hall over. Much quieter on this side. I'll go mention to the H 'n N floor clerk that someone needs to make up the other bed." He eyed the bare, plastic-covered mattress next to his. "And fetch me some fresh pajama pants," Trowa's cock whined. Trowa got changed in the ward bath commons before returning to his room. He arrived to find Duo collapsed on the unmade bed, sound asleep. "Great to have company so we can talk," he wryly told Maxwell's motionless, silent form. "Yeah. Great to have company," his cock sincerely crooned to Duo's butt.
"You'll never guess who just arrived at the hospital," he messaged Yuy through his secret Xanadu account. "Dracula looking for blood donors?" "Duo Maxwell." "Huh? That makes no sense." "Who're you working for?" "Commander Une, of course. She kept hearing rumors of fraud, corruption, somehow associated with the L1 Preventers Hospital. I'm to find the source and report back to her." "And I'm answerable to Commander Po. She's very annoyed about her budget short fall." "Maxwell reports to Commander Dickerson." Yuy stated. "No way they would send him to L1. He's absolutely vital to the L2 Preventers operation. He's the one with the street connections, political savvy. Holding all the cards. He truly runs the place. The power behind the throne. The brains of the unit. Une wouldn't allow him to go off chasing wild geese, even if Dickerson could spare him from L2 Headquarters, which he can't." "He is most definitely here, and sound asleep in the room next door." "Hold on. Okay, I just hacked his records. He's on sick leave." "So they do have him working on our case. Sick leave is his cover. No way I believe this is coincidence." "He must be actually sick," Yuy persisted. "Operation Elective Surgery isn't important enough that Une would risk Maxwell on it." "I'm not sure, but I think you just insulted me. Maxwell is too important to waste on this stupid case, but I'm not?" "Hey, don't forget I'm assigned to it also. Look, there's a simple way to determine if Maxwell is really sick. Just look for his dimple." "I don't think I quite follow you." "Duo has a 7 mm long dimple in his left facial cheek, approximately 6.3 cm from the tip of his ear lobe." Barton blinked silently at Yuy's sentence. Yuy continued, undaunted. "When Duo feels ill, he rapidly loses his appetite. When he doesn't eat, he loses adipose in his cheeks, and the dimple becomes far less prominent." Barton contemplated the implications. Yuy had made a close enough study of Maxwell's face to know the size and shape of his dimple? In sickness and in health? Trowa was also a little shocked at the emphasis on "facial cheek". As if Yuy felt the need to clarify "not his butt cheek". As if Yuy had equally intimate knowledge of Maxwell's butt cheeks. "Duo's butt cheeks are adorable," Trowa's cock advised him helpfully. "Let me get this straight. You want me to go measure Maxwell's dimple? Because size really matters?" "You don't have to whip out a ruler. Your fingers are fairly slender. Your thumb is about 2 cm across, right? Just find an excuse to touch Maxwell's face. When he's smiling, that is. If his dimple is less than 7 mm across, he's sick." "Heero likes your fingers," Trowa's cock preened. "So do I." "What is his scheduled procedure?" Yuy demanded. "Appendectomy, elective." Barton typed. "Too much of a coincidence." Maybe Maxwell was in on the hospital fraud? The Kid had a long convoluted history as a thief on the mean streets of L2. Yuy had just confirmed Duo's continued association with the elements of crime. Maybe Maxwell's wickedly creative genius had found a way to supplement his Preventers pay check? It would take an imagination of his caliber to dream up a profitable scam in this joint. "Maxwell has a history of chronic appendicitis," Yuy responded insistently. "I'm not buying it." Barton hadn't realized Yuy's data on the Kid was so detailed. Trowa himself couldn't count a dozen times he had even met Maxwell during the wars, much less gotten a chance to know him. "Goody. Here's your opportunity. Sharing a bedroom with Duo," his cock purred. "I'm coming out there. Une has authorized a shuttle," Yuy informed him. Barton groaned. His cock cheered. "Let's have a threesome."
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