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"Bad Company"Written By: Clara Barton & Kangofu_CB Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Post-Canon, Undercover Missions, Undercover
as a Couple, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced
Drug Use, Human Trafficking, Gang Violence Pairings: 3x2 Summary: "The only hell and the only paradise are the ones we build ourselves." - Unknown This fic is dark. It explores the way the lines between good and bad, black and white are blurred, for those who work from the inside to bring down the bad guys. Clara and I do not, at any point, get graphic in our descriptions, but there is a lot of sensitive subject matter. We have tagged as clearly as possible, and individual chapters will contain individual warnings. As a general rule this fic contains: implied torture, death, description of a human trafficking organization and its methods, the surrounding implications of human trafficking including forced prostitution and what amounts to slavery, drug and alcohol use, and drug trafficking. We understand that these subjects are not for everyone. We have made every effort to be respectful and accurate without being gratuitous or disturbing. The bad guys are bad. The good guys are, sometimes, not much better. We use a liberal sprinkling of Spanish and Russian in this fic, and neither of us are native speakers of either. We’ve relied heavily on the internet, and so we apologize for any mistakes. We have also included translations at the end of each chapter in the form of footnotes.
"Bad Company"
Chapter 9: The Man Comes Around There's a man goin' 'round takin' names And he decides who to free and who to blame Everybody won't be treated all the same There'll be a golden ladder reachin' down When the man comes around -Johnny Cash Trowa had learned the hard way that he couldn't outdrink Anhil. Despite having at least twenty pounds on the other man, Trowa had been drunk into horrifying oblivion four times before he gave up on trying to keep up with Anhil when the other man decided to binge. Especially when he decided to binge on tequila. So he confined himself to joining in the first three rounds of tequila shots, and then drifted to the perimeter of the restaurant and sipped on a glass of water while Anhil, Salome and the trio of Guatemalan mercenary pilots they had just hired to run the next shipment of palomniks celebrated their new joint venture. It had taken Anhil two months of negotiating and threatening before his old war buddies agreed to another sit down - and Trowa could see that most of Anhil's jubilation as he tossed back his sixth shot of tequila and laughed at Salome's grimace of distaste was motivated by relief. Anhil, after all, had borne the brunt of Salome and Alessandra's anger these past few weeks. Anhil, and Trowa, who had done his best to insert himself between Anhil and Salome whenever he could. After all, he had worked too damn hard to cultivate Anhil - if Salome decided to kill Alessandra's most reliable lieutenant, there was no guarantee that Trowa's place in the Cartel would be safe. It was still the middle of the afternoon, and the group of hardened criminals were drawing quite a bit of attention from the other patrons as they emptied their second bottle of tequila between the five of them and called for another. Of course, considering that the meet had been set for the restaurant at the Aquatic Park, and the shouts of children frolicking in the pools and on the slides outside was loud enough to be heard over Anhil and his compatriots' slurred retellings of their past deeds, made the entire thing a little surreal for Trowa. Duo had been the one to suggest the location, earning a derisive snort from Anhil and a grimace from Trowa. But Salome had nodded, had reached out and gave Duo's hair a thoughtful pat before tugging on his bangs none too gently. "Of course, lischka ," she had agreed with an icy chuckle. " Even the Snakeheads will think twice before confronting us there." And even though Trowa could see the brilliance in that plan, he still didn't have to like it. Surrounded by children and families - civilians, and loud ones at that - Trowa felt hypersensitive to the danger his presence presented to everyone around him. Salome abandoned the group of men and picked up the half-empty bottle of tequila from their table, ignoring the groans of protest before Anhil ordered another. She looked around the restaurant, cool gaze dismissing everyone it passed by until she spotted him near the door. She smirked and started towards him, her sinuous stride effortlessly reptilian and terrifying. Trowa had to force himself not to sit up straighter as she approached, maintaining his slouch and look of bored nonchalance through sheer willpower as she pulled out the chair across from him and straddled it backwards. "Why aren't you celebrating with us?" she asked, before taking a long swallow of the tequila. She slammed it down on the table beside Trowa's still wrapped wrist. It should have been put in a cast, Duo had muttered to him more than once, but Trowa wasn't about to broadcast that significant of an injury. His sprained wrist had already earned more than a fair share of snide remarks and considering looks from the other enforcers. Trowa met her gaze and forced himself to smirk. "I was planning a celebration of my own for later." She snorted. "Oh yes. You and 02. Fucking ‘til you break down the walls. There have been complaints - too noisy." She made a tsking sound and waved her finger at him in reprimand. Trowa took a risk and reached for the bottle of tequila. He took a burning gulp of the stuff and put it back between them. "Eduardo or Matvei?" he asked. "Or is there another anus perepuganii too afraid to say something to my face?" Salome's lips twitched, and she took another shot of tequila. "Why do you think it's you they are afraid of, hm?" Trowa took his turn, gut churning in anticipation of the tequila hitting his tongue again. He hated tequila. "Must be Matvei, then. I think he pisses himself when Duo looks his way." That made Salome laugh outright, and she propped her elbow against the table and then rested her head on her palm. She considered him from the suspiciously relaxed pose. "Did you fuck him during the war?" Her tone was idle, the question as loaded as the gun Trowa wore at the small of his back. Trowa took another sip of tequila. "Once," he admitted. "And, what - it was so bad that you hate him?" "I don't hate him," Trowa shrugged. "I hate what he reminds me of." "Bad sex?" "The sex wasn't - and isn't - bad. Surely Matvei at least knows what a good fucking sounds like, even if he can't manage one himself?" Again, Salome's lips twitched, but she continued to look at him, gaze relentless and demanding. "He reminds me of the things I've lost. The people I failed." The really fucked-up part of Trowa admitting that to Salome was that it wasn't even a lie. Duo was a constant reminder - here, and before this hellish op - that Trowa couldn't do enough, could never be enough, to save the people and things that really mattered to him. " You need to learn to let the past go, kotyenok. Do you know why Lessy and I never fear betrayal from you or Anhil?" Trowa knew better than to even attempt to respond to that question. "Anhil is afraid of the future, yes? He has too much to lose - his brother's family. He knows he is all they have, and he is afraid to risk that. And you? You are afraid of the past. You let it nip at your heels like a rabid dog when all you have to do is kill it to be free." Trowa got the sense that she was speaking from experience, but he didn't want to fathom what past Salome had put to death to get to where she was today. Salome finished off the tequila and stood up. "Get Anhil, and let's go home. I want to tell Lessy the good news. And you have a fox to tame, no?" Her smile was easy, her eyes teasing, and Trowa didn't think he had ever been as intimidated by her as he was in that moment. Salome pummeling a man to death with a baseball bat had nothing on this woman who looked at him with camaraderie, who teased him the same way Cathy would. Anhil insisted on bringing another bottle of tequila with them for the drive back to the hacienda, and they stuck him in the back seat while Salome sat in the passenger seat beside Trowa as he drove. The radio was on, and Anhil started singing loudly and horribly off-key to some song. Salome told him to shut up, and he retaliated by singing louder. Trowa gripped the steering wheel tightly as Salome's shoulders tensed, but then she let out an angry huff of breath and turned off the radio. "Let us teach him a real song, hm?" Salome suggested to Trowa. He glanced over at her, and she was smiling broadly, still in frighteningly good humor. " Oiy moroz, moroz, " she began, singing the lyrics of the song that Trowa had first heard from the captain of the mercenary troupe. Trowa sang along with her, the two of them singing louder and louder, until they were able to drown out Anhil's belligerent serenade. He hadn't sang the song in years, not since he had put the captain in the ground. He had heard it since then - it was a popular enough song in L3 bars, sung by spacers who were shipping out to mine or scavenage or pirate - but Trowa couldn't bring himself to form the words with his own mouth without thinking of the captain coaching him, teaching him the Russian words and telling him the meaning behind them. They sang Cherniy voron next, and Trowa couldn't help but think of Duo, who had once asked Trowa to sing to him, and Trowa had sang that song, had pitched his voice low like the old recordings of Terran film stars that the mercenaries used to imitate. Duo had laughed at first, had looked up at him with delighted eyes, and by the end of the song, as Trowa eased down to kiss Duo, as his hands ghosted over his lover's body, Duo had been breathless and heavy-lidded, his mouth eager as he swallowed the final refrain. Salome, Trowa had to admit, was right. Trowa did let the past nip at his heels. And maybe it was a bad thing, maybe it did fill him with dread - with fear, even. But he didn't know who he would be if he let go of it. He wouldn't be Trowa Barton, for one. And he wouldn't lay awake at night and wish he was singing to Duo, wishing he had Duo pressed against him, wishing he could feel the curve of Duo's lips against his own. Two more drinking songs and they were back at the hacienda. Anhil had even joined them for the last one - Trava u doma, which Trowa had taught him months ago during one of his ill-fated and very failed attempts to outdrink the other man. Trowa had to help Anhil into the hacienda - between the tequila and his still stiff leg, he nearly fell twice before Salome laughed and snapped Trowa over to his side. Salome walked into the house beaming, her swagger and smirk silencing the room as she walked in on the enforcers in the living room. All eyes turned to her, though a few dared to look past her to Anhil and Trowa, including Duo, who took in Anhil's arm over Trowa's shoulders and Salome's obvious delight with tight lips. Duo was smart enough to know that a happy Salome was just as dangerous - if not more dangerous - than an angry Salome. "I hope you all have enjoyed your vacation, chapos ," Salome said to them. "Anhil's comrades will be bringing our next shipment down next week." The men and women looked relieved, though a few mustered up excited cheers. Even the palomniks sighed. The anxiety that the chapos had felt had, Trowa knew, been redirected onto them. Salome, too, had taken advantage of their presence and inability to fight back to let out some of her own frustrations in the past weeks. Salome looked over her shoulder at Trowa. "Drop him there," she waved at the couch, "and then go carry your lischka off for your celebration." Duo arched an eyebrow at Trowa, and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you even think about picking me up, I will fuck you up so badly, Barton." Anhil roared with laughter as Trowa eased him down onto a chair. "That's what he wants!" Anhil said, and Salome smirked. Trowa wasn't sure if this was some kind of test from her, or some kind of twisted gesture of goodwill - maybe her blessing? The tequila wasn't helping him tease out the riddle, but even if he had been sober, Trowa wasn't sure he could have pieced together the logic behind Salome's little show. "You could carry me," he suggested to Duo. Duo looked him over. "You're heavy," he sighed, looking resigned to play this out for their audience. "Are you calling me fat?" "Fat-headed," Duo muttered. "You want to fuck, then let's fuck." "Right here?" Trowa looked around the crowded living room with a smirk. He saw Matvei grimace and Eduardo, beside him, shake his head in disgust. Duo shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe we could teach these tontos a few things." Matvei snorted. "We don't want to learn any of that shit," he snarled. Duo looked over at him, and the left side of his mouth curved upwards. "You still haven't learned your elbow from your ass. We could at least teach you that. Hey, payaso , you want to demonstrate?" Trowa rolled his eyes. He wasn't taking this game that far. "You have a room. You have two rooms," Salome waved them away, bored already. "Use one of them. And keep the noise down, hm?" Her last comment had Duo's eyebrows raising, but Trowa jerked his head towards the back of the house. Duo shook his head, muttered something under his breath, and closed down his work-station. He made a grand ‘after you' gesture, and Trowa preceded him down the hallway. He was confident there were eyes on them, confident that a bit of a show was expected. But he didn't care. He waited until they were in his room and the door was locked before he backed Duo up against it, bracing his hands on either side of Duo's head, and looked into his eyes. "You're drunk," Duo said after a moment of looking at Trowa's face. "Not very," Trowa shrugged. Duo arched an eyebrow and his hand lashed out, the movement so quick and unexpected that Trowa was helpless to counter it. Duo tickled him, deft fingers finding the spot on Trowa's ribs that had him giggling and stumbling away. Triumphant smirk on his face, Duo stalked towards him. "What was that, payaso ? That sound you just made?" "Don't," Trowa warned. Begged, really. "Don't what?" Duo pounced and wrestled him to the floor. He had never fought fairly - then again, neither had Trowa. They rolled around on the floor, hands searching out the vulnerable spots that no one else - or at least, no one else alive - had discovered. It took entirely too long for Trowa to pin Duo to the ground beneath him, hands stretched above his head and Trowa straddling his thighs. Duo was breathless, grinning up at him, eyes dancing and hair spread out on the floor, golden and brown in the light that spilled into the room from the dying sun outside. "Ti sah miy krah see viy," Trowa breathed. Duo's eyebrows knit together as he translated the words for himself. "And you're the most drunk," Duo retorted. "Mm." Trowa leaned down and pressed a kiss to Duo's breastbone, lips lingering over the warm, firm flesh for a moment before he dragged them over Duo's throat. "You intoxicate me," he agreed. Duo snorted a laugh, but it ended in a sharp inhale as Trowa nuzzled against Duo's left ear and gently bit down into the sensitive flesh just below his earlobe. Trowa felt Duo's hands clench under the hand that held them in place, and he smirked before kissing Duo's jaw, his cheek, his eyelids, and then, finally, his lips. Duo kissed him back, the slide of their mouths and tongues so familiar, so easy and intimate. He pulled away enough to look down at Duo again, and Duo's head lifted, mouth chasing after his own. Trowa used his free hand to trace over Duo's lips, unsurprised when the other man nipped at his thumb. He pressed it against Duo's tongue, let Duo suck the digit into his mouth and tease the callused skin with his teeth. He thought about letting go of Duo's hands so that he could undress him, but he liked the picture Duo made, the illusion of Duo being trapped and pliant. He withdrew his thumb from Duo's mouth and trailed it down his throat, over his skittering pulse and to the neck of his shirt. "Apparently, Matvei thinks we're too loud ," Trowa said. He raked his short nails over Duo's chest, feeling the sharp jut of his nipples under the thin material of the t-shirt. Duo arched up into the touch. "And here I was, thinking we were being considerate and quiet this whole time," Duo muttered. Trowa chuckled, and shoved Duo's shirt up to his armpits. He licked Duo's belly, just below his ribcage, and he felt Duo try to twist away from him. He blew on the wet skin, and Duo made a choked sound. "Barton," he warned. "Maxwell," Trowa growled in response, before swirling his tongue around Duo's left nipple, tracing over the Sweeper's insignia against his heart, and then he bit down. Duo bucked up against him, groaning in pain and pleasure. "Let my hands go," Duo breathed. "I don't think so. Maybe if you'd let me carry you earlier..." Duo snorted. "Let me go. Your wrist." That reminder put a bit of a damper on the mood, and Trowa grimaced as he released Duo's hands, acknowledging the pain that was a constant companion. But Duo was right; it was senseless to strain the injury. Duo closed the space between them, and pressed his lips against the shell of Trowa's ear. "As soon as we get home, you can tie me up and do whatever you want to me, Tro. I promise." Home . Duo made it sound so close, so real. Trowa kissed him again, a little wild, a lot desperate. Duo returned it, hands clutching Trowa tightly, digging into his shoulders, pulling at his hair. They wrestled again, this time with their clothes, until they were finally naked. "On the floor?" Duo asked, as he reached for the lube and condoms Trowa kept under the bed. "Yes," Trowa decided. He was on his knees, between Duo's thighs, and he ran his hands over the flexing muscles, letting his nails tease Duo and grinning when he felt the other man shiver. "Gonna be hell on your knees," Duo pointed out. "How's that different than anything else?" Trowa asked, and he saw something dark flash through Duo's eyes, saw his smirk tighten, and he could feel a corresponding plunge in his own gut. Trowa pinched Duo's right nipple, rolling it between his fingers until Duo sucked in a breath, and the moment passed. He was back with Trowa, and Trowa willed himself to be here with Duo. In this room. On this floor, between his thighs, teasing his entrance with slick fingers until Duo's body opened to him, until he made that sound - not quite a growl, not quite a whimper, low and shallow and soft, and just for Trowa. Trowa teased at Duo, taking his time, savoring this, the tight heat of Duo, the darkness in his eyes that had nothing to do with death or pain and everything to do with lust. His face was flushed, his chest rising and falling with each ragged, uneven breath he took. And then Trowa found that spot, crooking his finger just so, and Duo bit down on his lower lip and arched up, hips surging and eyes squeezing shut. Trowa added a second finger, finding the spot again and caressing it. He reached out with his other hand and curled his fingers around Duo's cock, stroking it in time with his other movements. "Fuck, Tro," Duo breathed, and his hands reached for Trowa, nails dragging over Trowa's forearm, tracing the tattoos, the words on his wrist, and his eyes were open, just barely, just a flash of blue between dark lashes, fixed on Trowa's face. He slid a third finger into Duo's body, and Duo's hands fell away as he reached for the condom. His movements were as precise as they would be if he was setting C4, and he rolled the latex down Trowa's shaft without breaking eye contact, his abs contracting as he levered himself up, his body drawing Trowa's fingers in deeper, and they both shuddered at that. "Now," Duo said, and Trowa slid his fingers free. He had wanted Duo splayed out on the floor, had wanted to watch Duo's face, to see his hair spread in a halo around him, but the press of Duo's thighs against his own gave him a better idea. Trowa hauled Duo into his lap, and Duo chuckled. "Improvising?" he teased, before nipping Trowa's earlobe. Trowa hummed in agreement, and positioned himself between Duo's ass cheeks, running his cock back and forth between the crease until Duo started to squirm. Duo reached back, taking matters into his own hands, and pressed the head of Trowa's cock to his entrance. It was a slow slide into heaven, heat and strength surrounding Trowa, Duo's arms around his neck, Duo's cheek pressed to his forehead, and Trowa's arms tangled in Duo's hair as he supported his back. " Pozvol' mne umeret' vot tak ," Trowa sighed. "No one's dying today - and you sure as shit can't die before I come," Duo growled. Trowa laughed, and tilted his head back to capture Duo's lips in a kiss. They moved together, practice having made perfect a long time ago. It was slow, and it was so fucking good, Duo anchoring him to Earth, holding him down, keeping Trowa from drifting off into space, staving off the darkness, rising and falling above him as Trowa coaxed him on. Duo got there first, hands digging into Trowa's shoulders and his breath coming out in a surprised gasping moan before he latched onto Trowa's lips with his own. A few more thrusts into Duo's body, already clenched around him so firmly, and Trowa was lost to pleasure as well, desperately clinging to Duo while the world went white and empty around them. -o- It was still strange, sharing a bed. Before, back in the real world - or, hell, this , Trowa supposed, was as real as that world. But in that other life, the one that he and Duo kept safe and hidden in their apartment, it had taken a while to get used to the idea of sharing a bed. Fucking had been one thing. A good thing. A necessary thing, some nights. But the things that came after, the intimacy, the belonging - those had taken Trowa off-guard, and still could, on occasion. Waking up to find Duo curled around his back, putting himself between Trowa and whatever potential threat might be lurking, wasn't a novel sensation anymore. But it still left Trowa feeling oddly adrift, left him wondering what the fuck was wrong with Duo that he wanted to put himself between Trowa and a bullet. He stretched, slowly, gently, trying to work through the lingering pain in his wrist and the pleasant ache in his ass and thighs from a night spent together. He didn't want to wake Duo, not considering how late they had actually been up, and especially not considering how nice it felt to have Duo's steady heartbeat drumming against his spine, Duo's strong, deadly hands wrapped around him, Duo's leg thrown over his as though to make sure he didn't get any stupid ideas and try to leave. Trowa smirked at that. Duo generally thought all - or, at best, most - of Trowa's ideas were stupid. Trowa sighed and closed his eyes. He tried to will himself back to sleep. But his thoughts were already racing ahead, leaving behind tranquility and safety and comfort. Hurtling towards misery and anxiety and gut-churning guilt. Another shipment. Less than a week, and another hundred - two hundred, three hundred - L3 civilians would arrive and be processed. Bodies emptied and sorted, and then sold off. He had known it would be like this. It had been made very clear, in the first mission briefings, that long-term undercover work in a drug cartel that made nearly half of their income in human trafficking was going to mean he sat by and watched hundreds, thousands of civilians sold off before he would be able to put a stop to it. Trowa squeezed his eyes shut tighter, as if he could put a stop to his own thoughts. But he couldn't stop it. That was the reality. One setback meant another path was forged. One door was closed, and another was forced open. One enforcer was killed, and a more ruthless one took his place. There was, as far as Trowa could see, no end in sight. Just a lifetime to this. "Why the fuck can't you ever just sleep ?" Duo grumbled, stubble rough against the back of Trowa's neck. Trowa swallowed hard. He hadn't even registered Duo waking up. "I slept," Trowa retorted. "Yeah, for what - ten minutes? Jesus, payaso , learn how to turn your brain off. We spend all night having fucking amazing sex, and now you're-" "Duo." Something in his voice gave him away, gave away his thoughts or- something. Duo's hands tightened around him for a moment, and then he shifted, pulling away from Trowa. Trowa rolled, wondering what he was doing, wondering why he was leaving, wondering where he was going this early in the morning. Still naked, Duo knelt in the jumble of their clothes and dug around until he found his own shorts. He pulled his phone out, typing one-handed, and after a moment, the sounds of the shitty spacer synth-pop that Howard loved so much filled the room. Duo turned the volume down lower, keeping it just loud enough to cover the sounds of him climbing back into the bed and pulling Trowa close again, this time front to front. Duo put the phone down on the nightstand beside the bed and looked down at Trowa. He leaned down and brushed his lips over Trowa's, soft, swift. Not even long enough to be a tease. "I met with Sally," Duo whispered against his skin. Trowa wrapped his arms around Duo's shoulders, pulling him closer and trailing his fingers over Duo's skin. "This shipment goes through, and that's it. They'll have everything they need, and we'll be done." Duo snaked one hand between their bodies, fingers curving over Trowa's hip and thigh, nails grazing over the sensitive spots so that Trowa arched into him. One more shipment. Trowa pressed his lips against Duo's shoulder, finding a decade old bullet wound and laving at it with his tongue. One more shipment. Sacrifice just a few hundred more civilians, and then- And then what? The bureaucrats would step in, and there would be more news coverage and Zechs in all his golden, smirking glory, and three hundred more souls lost forever. And that was if the plan worked. If Preventers actually let them go through with it this time. Trowa traced over Duo's spine, feeling each sharp jut, counting his way down until he reached Duo's ass. He cupped one firm cheek in his hand and rolled, shifting Duo on top of him. Duo met his eyes, and he saw. He knew. "Trowa." "It's never going to end. It's never going to stop," Trowa whispered, words nearly without sound, just shapes forced between his lips as he stared up at Duo. Duo closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He opened his eyes and leaned close again. Trowa lifted his head to meet Duo's lips, and he buried his hands in Duo's hair, tangling his fingers in the loose strands. "It's going to stop. This is the end, Tro. One shipment, and it's over. One shipment, and they pull us out." "If - Duo, what if-" Duo kissed him again, a little frantic. Trowa could feel his frustration. "The world is fucking full of ifs, Trowa. There's nothing we can do about that. All we can do is-" "We can stop this shipment from going through, Duo. We have to. We have to do this one thing." "Tro - this shipment connects the buyers to the cartel and-" "Then what the fuck has your data worm been doing this whole time? Don't tell me you've been playing minesweeper for months while I've been out there murdering- " "Shut the fuck up," Duo hissed, eyes dark and furious as he kissed Trowa again. They glared at each other, Duo's fingers digging into his shoulders and Trowa's tugging on his hair, and when they broke apart again, they were both breathless. Breathless and hard. They were so fucked up , Trowa couldn't help but think as Duo scrambled for the lube and Trowa grabbed a condom. Duo stretched him, breathing ragged and eyes still filled with anger, and Trowa fought to catch his own breath. He managed to open the condom, fumbled a little rolling it down Duo's cock, but then it was on and Duo was sliding into him, and they were both groaning. It was as if Duo was trying to fuck some sense into Trowa, using quick, hard thrusts, his trim hips rolling with each move and his chest heaving, arms straining as he held himself up and glared down at Trowa. All Trowa could do was hold on, one hand braced on the wall, the other still in Duo's hair. It was quick, so quick it felt like a sprint, felt like Trowa's orgasm was a dive over the side of a cliff, and he was left gasping and clawing at Duo as the other man buried his face in Trowa's shoulder and trembled. Duo's weight pressed down on him, adding to Trowa's struggle to catch his breath, making him wonder if he should even bother. But Duo was there. Duo was furious and holding him, and Duo was there . The one thing Trowa had tried to prevent - Duo getting dragged into this - was the one thing keeping Trowa from walking into the jungle and never coming back out. "We stop the shipment," he insisted. "Let me save someone." Duo's fingers tightened, and Trowa could feel him swallow. "Only if you let me save you, payaso ." -o- Translations: Palomniks : pilgrims; Salome's name for the trafficked Colonials Lischka : Russian for Fox Anus Perepuganii : Russian for scared anus Kotyenok : Russian for kitten Oiy moroz, moroz : Russian song "Oh It's Freezing, It's Freezing" A traveler is begging winter not to freeze him because he wants to go home to his beautiful wife. Cherniy Voron : Russian song "The Black Raven", compares death to a raven circling overhead. Trava u doma : Russian song "Grass Near the House" it's from the 1980s and it's basically about how everything is supposed to be awesome out in space as an astronaut but things are always better at home. Chapos : Spanish slang for cartel soldier Tontos : Spanish for fools Payaso : Spanish for clown Ti sahmiy krahseeviy : Russian, you are the most beautiful (technically most handsome) Pozvol' mne umeret' vot tak : Russian, let me die like this. |
