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"Convincing Heero"Written By: Hemlock Inyx Disclaimer: This chick does not own any of the
Gundam Wing characters because they belong to Bandai and Sunrise.
I am borrowing them for this fict and will return them
in good (if somewhat sticky) condition. I also don't own Nora Robert's
Convincing Alex, on which this fict is heavily based (well more like
a fusion/translation). This fict is written out of love and not for
profit, don't sue. Thanks and enjoy! Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU Romance/Cop Drama, Cross-dressing/drag,
humor, romance, some OOC-ness, language, and murder- not main characters.
Pairings: 1x2, 4xC for added interest. More pairings
to come. Summary: Heero is a cop, Duo is a cross-dressing man who writes for a daytime soap opera. The pair meet when Duo is arrested doing 'research' for the soapie.
" Convincing Heero" Chapter 1 The curvy brunette in red spandex tottered on stiletto heels as 'she' worked her corner. Her eyes, heavily painted with a sunburst of colors, kept a sharp watch on her associates, those spangled shadows of the night. There was a great deal of laughter on the street. After all, it was springtime in New York. But beneath the laughter there was a flat sheen of boredom that no amount of glitter or sex could disguise. For these ladies, business was business. After popping in some fresh gum, Duo adjusted the large canvas bag on his bare shoulder. Thank God it was warm, he thought. It would be hell to strut around half-dressed if the weather was ugly. A gorgeous blonde haired woman in red leather that barely covered the essentials languidly lit a cigarette and cocked her hip. "Come on, baby," she said to no one in particular, in a voice husky from the smoke she exhaled."wanna have some fun?" Some did, Duo noted, his eyes skimming the block. Some didn't. All in all, he thought, business was pretty brisk on this spring night. He'd observed several transactions, and the varied ways they were conducted. It was too bad boredom was the byword here. Boredom, and a defiant kind of hopelessness. "You talking to yourself, honey?" "Huh?" Duo blinked up into the shrewd eyes of the blonde-haired goddess in red leather who had strolled over. "Was I?" "You're new?" Studying Duo, she blew out smoke. "Who's your man?" "My... I don't have one." "Don't have one?" The woman arched her ruthlessly plucked brows and sneered. "Girl, you can't work this street without a man." "That's what I'm doing." Since he didn't have a cigarette, Duo blew a bubble with his gum. Then snapped it. "Alex or Mueller find out, they're going to mess you up." She shrugged. After all, it wasn't her problem. "Free country." "Girl, ain't nothing free." With a laugh, she ran a hand down her slick, leather-covered hip. "Nothing at all." She flicked her cigarette into the street, where it bounced off the rear fender of a cab. There were dozens of questions on Duo's lips. It was in his nature to ask them, but he remembered that he had to go slow. "So who's your man?" "Alex." With her lips pursed, the woman skimmed her gaze up and down Duo. "He'd take you on. A little skinny through the butt, but you'd do. You need protection when you work the streets." And she could use the extra money Alex would pass her way if she brought him a new girl. "Nobody protected the two girls who got murdered last month." The blonde haired woman's eyes flickered. Duo considered himself an excellent judge of emotion, and he saw grief, regret and sorrow before the eyes hardened again. "You a cop?" Duo's mouth fell open before he laughed. That was a good one, he thought. Sort of flattering. "No, I'm not a cop. I'm just trying to make a living. Did you know either of them? The women who were killed?" "We don't like questions around here." The woman tilted her head. "If you're trying to make a living, let's see you do it." Duo felt a quick ripple of unease. Not only was the woman gorgeous, she looked vicious. Vicious and suspicious. Both qualities were going to make it difficult for Duo to hang back on the fringes and observe. But he considered himself an agile thinker and a quick study. After all, he reminded himself, he'd come here tonight to do business. "Sure." Turning, Duo strutted slowly along the sidewalk. His padded hips--and he didn't for a minute believe that his butt was skinny--swayed seductively. Maybe his throat was a little dry. Maybe his heart was pounding a bit too quickly. But Duo Maxwell took a great deal of pride in his work. He spotted the two men half a block away and licked his lips. The one on the left, the dark one, looked very promising. * * * * * * * "Look, rookie, the idea's to take one, maybe two." Heero scanned the sidewalk ahead. Hookers, drunks, junkies and those unfortunate enough to have to pass through them to get home. "My snitch says that the long-haired, blonde one--Dorothy--knew both the victims." "So why don't we just pick her up and take her in for questioning?" Quatre Winner was anxious for action. His detective's shield was only forty-eight hours old. And he was working with Heero Yuy, a cop who had a reputation for moving quickly and getting the job done. "Better yet, why don't we go roust her pimp?" Rookies, Heero thought. Why were they always teaming him up with rookies? "Because we want her cooperation. We're going to pick her up, book her for solicitation. Then we're going to talk to her, nicely, before Alex can come along and tell her to clam up." "If Catherine finds out I spent the night picking up hookers--" "A smart cop doesn't tell his family anything they'd don't need to know. And they don't need to know much." Heero's dark blue eyes were cool, very cool, as they flicked over his new partner's face. "Yuy's rule number one." He spotted the brunette. She was staring at him. Heero stared back. Odd face, he thought. Sharp, sexy, despite the makeup she'd troweled on. Beneath all the gunk, her eyes were a vivid violet. The face itself was an odd mix of rounded cheeks and sharp chin. Her nose was slightly pointed, and looked as if it may have been broken. Some john or pimp, he figured, then skimmed his eyes down to her mouth. Full, overfull, and a glossy red. It didn't please him at all that he felt a reaction to it. Not knowing what she was, what she did. The clinging tube top and spandex mini skirt showed every inch of her curvy, athletic little body. He'd always been a sucker for the athletic type--but he reminded himself just where this particular number got her exercise. In any case, she wasn't the one he was looking for. Now or never, Duo told himself, feeling his new acquaintance's eyes on him. "Hey, baby..." Though he hadn't smoked since he'd been fifteen, his voice was husky. Saying a prayer to whatever gods were listening, he veered in on Heero. "Want to party?" "Maybe." Heero hooked a finger in the top of her tube, and was surprised when she flinched. "You're not quite what I had it mind." "Oh?" What next? Combining instinct with his observations, Duo tossed his head and leaned into him. He had the quick impression of pressing against steel--hard, unyielding and very cool. "Just what did you have in mind?" Then, for a moment, Duo had nothing at all on his. Not with the way those dark blue eyes cut into his, through him. The man's knuckles were brushing his skin, just above the bodice of his tube top. Duo felt the heat from them, from him. As he continued to stare, Duo was struck by a vivid image of the two of them, rolling on a narrow bed in some dark room. And it had nothing to do with business. It was the first time Heero had ever seen a hooker blush. It threw him off, made him want to apologize for the fantasy that had just whipped through his brain. Then he remembered himself. "Just a different type, babe." In her heels, they were eye-to-eye. It made Heero want to rub off the powders and paints to see what was beneath. "I can be a different type," Duo said, delighted with his inspired response. "Hey, girlfriend." Dorothy strutted over and slipped a friendly arm around Duo's shoulders. "You're not going to be greedy and take both of these boys, are you?" "I…" Pay dirt, Heero thought, and shifted his attention to Dorothy. "You two a team?" "We are tonight." She glanced from Heero to his partner. "How 'bout you two?" Quatre searched for his voice. He'd rather have been facing a gunman in an alley. And he simply couldn't put his hands on this beautiful woman, when a picture of Catherine's face was flashing in his head like a neon light. "Sure." He let out a long breath and tried to emulate some of Heero's confidence. Dorothy threw back her head and laughed before she stepped forward, bumping bodies with Quatre. He gave way instinctively as a dark red flush crept up his neck. "I believe you're new at this, honey. Why don't you let Dorothy show you the ropes?" Because his partner seemed to have developed laryngitis, Heero took over. "How much?" "Well..." Dorothy didn't bother to look over at Duo, who had gone dead pale. "Special rate tonight. You get both of us for a hundred. That's the first hour." She leaned down and whispered something in Quatre's ear that had him babbling. "After that," she continued, "we can negotiate." "I don't--" Duo began, then felt Dorothy's fingers dig into his bare shoulder like sharp little knives. "I think that'll do it," Heero said, and pulled out his badge. "Ladies, you're busted." Cops, Duo realized on a wave of sweet relief. While Dorothy expressed her opinion with a single vicious word, Duo struggled not to burst into wild laughter. * * * * * * * Perfect, Duo thought as he was bumped along into the squad room. He'd been arrested for solicitation, and life couldn't be better. Trying to take everything in at once, he grinned as he scanned the station house. He'd been in one before, of course. As he always said, he took his work seriously. But not in this precinct. Not downtown. It was dirty--grimy, really, he decided, making mental notes and muttering to himself. Floors, walls, the barred windows. Everything had a nice, picturesque coat of crud. It smelled, too. Duo took a deep breath so that he wouldn't forget the ripe stench of human sweat, bitter coffee and strong disinfectant. And it was noisy. With every nerve on sensory alert, he separated the din into ringing phones, angry curses, weeping, and the clickety-clack of keyboards at work. Man, oh, man, he thought. His luck was really in. "You're not a tourist." Heero reminded him, adding a firm nudge. "Sorry." The vibrant excitement in her eyes was so out of place that Heero stared. Then, with a shake of his head, he jabbed a finger toward a chair. He was letting the rookie get his feet wet getting the vitals from Dorothy. Once they had her booked, he'd take over himself, using charm or threats or whatever seemed most expedient to make her talk to him about her two murdered associates. "Okay." He took his seat behind his battered and overcrowded desk. "You know the drill." She'd been staring at a young man of about twenty with a face full of bruises and a torn denim jacket. "Excuse me?" Heero just sighed as he rolled a form onto his typewriter."Name?" "Oh, I'm Duo." She held out her hand in a gesture so natural and friendly he nearly took it. Instead, he swore softly. "Duo what?" "Maxwell, And you're?" "In charge. Date of birth." "Why?" His eyes flicked up, arrowed hers. "Why what?" "Why do you want to know?" Patience, never his strong suit, strained. He tapped a finger on the form. "Because I've got this space to fill." "Okay. I'm twenty-eight. A Gemini. I was born on June the first." Heero did the math and typed in the year. "Residence.'' Natural curiosity had Duo poking through the folders and papers on his desk until he slapped her hand. "You're awfully tense," she commented. "Is it because you work undercover?" Damn that smile, Heero thought. It was sassy, sexy, and far from stupid. That, and those sharp, intelligent violet eyes, might have fooled him. But she looked like a hooker, and she smelled like a hooker. Therefore... "Listen, lady, here's the way this works. I ask the questions, you answer them." "Tough, cynical, street-smart." One dark brow lifted. "Excuse me?" "Just a quick personality check. You want my address, right?" she rattled off an address that made both of Heero's brows raise. "Let's get serious." "Okay." Willing to oblige, Duo folded his hands on the edge of the desk. "Your address," he repeated. "I just gave it to you." "I know what real estate goes for in that area. Maybe you're good." Thoughtful, he scanned her attributes one more time. "Maybe you're better than you look. But you don't make enough working the streets to pop for that kind of rent." Duo knew an insult when it hit him over the head. What made it worse was that he'd spent over an hour on his makeup. He was a bit out of practice for stage make-up, true, but he still remembered how to look dazzling. And he happened to know that his body was good. Lord knew, he sweated to keep it that way by working out three days a week. "That's where I live, cop." His temper, which had a habit of flaring quickly, had Duo upending his enormous canvas tote onto the desk. Heero watched, fascinated, as she pawed through the pile of contents. There were enough cosmetics to supply a small department store. And they weren't the cheap kind. Six lipsticks, two compacts, several mascara sticks and pots of eye shadow. A rainbow of eyeliner pencils. Scattered with them were two sets of keys, a snowfall of credit-card receipts, rubber bands, paper clips, twelve pens--he counted--a few broken pencils, a steno pad, two paperback books, matches, a leather address book embossed with the initials DM, a stapler--he didn't even pause to wonder why she would carry one--tissues and crumpled papers, a tiny micro-cassette recorder. And a gun. He whipped it out of the pile and stared at it. A water gun. "Careful with that," Duo warned as he found his overburdened wallet. "It's full of ammonia." "Ammonia?" "I used to carry Mace, but this works fine. Here." Pleased with himself, Duo pushed the open wallet under his nose. It might have been her in the picture, though, according to the DMV Duo Maxwell was male. But, the hair that was pulled back into a braid was the same chestnut. And that nose, that chin, those eyes. He frowned over the driver's license. The address was right. Perfect, Heero thought, I arrested a drag queen. "You got a car?" 'He' shrugged and began to dump things back into his purse. "So?" "Wo…ah, people in your position usually don't." Because it made sense, Duo stalled. "I've got a license. Everybody who has a license doesn't have to have a car, do they?" "No." He jerked the wallet out of Duo's reach. He leaned back in his squeaky chair for a fresh evaluation. If this queen was a hooker, he was Clark Kent. "What the hell are you?" It was time to come clean. Duo knew it. But something about the cop egged him on. "I'm just a woman trying to make a living, Officer." That was how Jade would handle it, Duo was sure. And since Jade was his creation, Duo was determined to do right by her. Heero opened the wallet, skimmed through the bills. He was carrying around what would be for him more than two weeks' pay. "Right." "Can you do that?" Duo demanded, more curious than annoyed. "Go through my personal property?" "Princess, right now you are my personal property." There were pictures in the wallet, as well. Snapshots of people, some with him, some without him. And the 'lady' was a card-carrying member of dozens of groups, including Greenpeace, the World Wildlife Federation, Amnesty International and the Writers' Guild. The last brought him back to the tape recorder. When he picked up the little toy, he noted that it was running. "Let's have it, Duo." God, he was cute. The thought passed through Duo's head as he smiled at him. "Have what?" "What were you doing hanging around with Dorothy and the rest of the girls?" "My job." When his eyes narrowed that way, Duo thought, he was downright irresistible. Impatient, a little mean, with a flash of recklessness just barely under control. Fabulous. "Really." All honesty and cheap perfume, Duo leaned forward. "You see, it all has to do with Jade, and how she's having this problem with a dual personality. By day, she's a dedicated lawyer--a real straight arrow, you know--but by night she hits the streets. She's blocking what happened between her and Brock, and coupled with a childhood memory that's begun to resurface, the strain's been too much for her. She's on a path of self-destruction." The frown in his eyes turned them nearly black. "Who the hell is Jade?" "Jade Sullivan Carstairs. Don't you watch daytime TV?" Heero's head was beginning to buzz. "No." "You don't know what you're missing. You'd probably really enjoy the Jade-Storm-Brock story line. Storm's a cop, you see, and he's falling in love with Jade. Her emotional problems, and the hold Brock has on her, complicate things. Then there was a miscarriage, and the kidnapping. Naturally, Storm has problems of his own." "Naturally. What's your point?" "Oh, sorry. I get off-track. I write for 'Secret Sins' Daytime drama." "You're a soap-opera writer?" "Yeah." Unlike many in the trade, Duo wasn't bothered by that particular label. "And I like to get the feel of the situations I put my characters into. Since Jade is a special pet of mine, I--" "Are you out of your mind?" Heero barked the question as he leaned over into his face. "Do you have any idea what you were doing?" Duo blinked, at once innocent and amused. "Research?" Heero swore again, and Duo found he liked the way he raked impatient fingers through his messy dark brown hair. "Mr. Maxwell, just how far were you intending to take your research?" "How-- ? Oh," His eyes brightened with laughter. "Well no, not quite that far." "What the hell would you have done if I hadn't been a cop?" "I'd have thought of something." Duo continued to smile. This cop had a fascinating face--golden skin, dark sexy blue eyes, wonderful bones. And that mouth, so beautifully sculpted, even if it did tend to scowl. "It's my job to think of things. And when I spotted you, I thought you looked safe. What I mean is, you didn't strike me as the kind of man who'd be interested in..." What was a delicate way of putting it? he wondered. "Paying for pleasure." Heero was so angry he wanted to yank Duo up and toss him over his lap. The idea of administering a few good whacks to that little butt was tremendously appealing."And if you'd guessed wrong?" "I didn't," he pointed out. "For a minute there, I was worried, but it all worked out. Better than I expected, really, because I had a chance to ride in a-- Do you still call them paddy wagons?" He'd been so sure he'd seen everything. Heard everything. With his temper straining at the bit, he spoke through clenched teeth. "Two hookers are dead. Two who worked that area." "I know," Duo said quickly, as if that explained it all. "That was one of the reasons I chose it. You see, I plan to have Jade--" "I'm talking about you," Heero interrupted in a voice that had Duo wincing. "You. Some bubbleheaded hack writer who thinks 'she' can strut around in spandex and a half a ton of makeup, then go home to 'his' nice neighborhood and wash it all off." "Hack?" It was the only thing Duo took offense to. "Look, cop--" "You look. You stay out of my territory, and out of those slut clothes. Do your research out of a book." His chin shot out. "I can go where I want, wearing, what I want." "You think so?" There was a way to teach this queen a lesson. A perfect way. "Fine." He rose, tugged the tote out of Duo's hands, then took a firm grip on his arm. "Let's go." "Where?" "To holding. You're under arrest, remember?'' Duo stumbled in the three-inch heels and squawked, "But I just explained--" "I hear better stories before breakfast every day." "You're not going to put me in a cell." Duo was sure of it. Positive. Right up until the moment the bars closed in his face. * * * * * * * It took about ten minutes for the shock to wear off. When it did, Duo decided it wasn't such a bad turn. He could be furious with the cop--whoever he was--but he could appreciate and take advantage of the unique opportunity he'd given him. Duo was in a holding cell with several other women. There was atmosphere to be absorbed, and there were interviews to be conducted. When one of his cellmates informed him that he was entitled to a phone call, he demanded one. Pleased with the progress he was making, Duo settled back on his hard cot to talk to his new acquaintances. It was thirty minutes later when he looked up and spotted his friend and co-writer Hilde Schbeiker, standing beside a uniformed policeman. "Duo, you look so natural here." With a grin, Duo popped up as the guard unlocked the door. "It's been great." "Hey!" one of his cellmates called out. "I'm telling you that Vicki's a witch, and Jeffrey should boot her out. Amelia's the right woman for him." Duo sent back a wink. "I'll see what I can do. 'Bye, girls." Hilde didn't consider herself long-suffering. She didn't consider herself a prude or a stuffed shirt. And she said as much to Duo as they walked through the corridors, up the stairs and back into the lobby area outside the squad room. "But," she added, pressing fingers to her tired eyes. "There's something that puts me off about being woken up at 2:00 a.m. to come bail you out of jail." "Sorry, but it's been great. Wait until I tell you." "Do you know what you look like, dear?" "Yep." Unconcerned, Duo craned his neck. The chair behind Heero's desk was empty. "I had no idea that so many of the working girls watched the show. But they do work nights, mostly. Uh, excuse me..." Duo caught the sleeve of one of New York's finest as he walked by. "The officer who uses that desk?" The cop swallowed the best part of a bite of his pastrami sandwich. "Yuy?" "Is he still around?" "He's in Interrogation." "Oh. Thanks." "Come on, Duo, we've got to pick up your things." Duo had signed for his purse and its contents, still keeping an eye out for the cop. "Yuy," he repeated to himself. "Is that Japanese, do you think?" "How the hell do I know?" Out of patience, Hilde steered Duo toward the door. "Let's get out of here. The place is lousy with criminals." "I know. It's fabulous." With a laugh, he tucked an arm around Hilde's waist. "I got ideas for the next three years. If we decide to have Elana arrested for Reed's murder..." "I don't know about having Reed murdered." With a sigh, Duo looked around for a cab. "Hilde, we both know Jim isn't going to sign another contract. He wants to try the big leagues. Having his character offed is the perfect way to beef up Elana's story line." "Maybe." Duo slyly pulled out his ace. "'Our Lives, Our Loves' picked up two points in the ratings last month." Hilde only grunted. "Word is Dr. Amanda Jamison is going to have twins." "Twins?" Hilde shut her eyes. Soap diva Ariel Kirkwood, who played the long-suffering psychiatrist on the competing soap, was daytime's most popular star. "It had to be twins," Hilde muttered. "Okay, Reed dies." Duo allowed himself one quick victory smile, then hurried on. * * * * * * * "Anyway, while I was in there, I was picturing the elegant, cool Dr. Elana Warfield Stafford Carstairs in prison. Fabulous, Hilde. It'd be fabulous. I wish you'd seen the cop." They'd walked to the corner, and there wasn't a cab in sight. "What cop?" "The one who arrested me. He was incredibly sexy." Hilde only had the energy to sigh. "Leave it to you to get busted by a sexy cop." "Really. All this thick dark brown hair. His eyes were this incredible blue, too. Very intense. He had all those hollows and planes in his face, and this beautiful mouth. Nice build, too. Sort of rough-and-ready. Like a boxer, maybe." "Don't start, Duo." "I'm not. I can find a man sexy and attractive without falling in love." Hilde shot him a look. "Since when?" "Since the last time. I've sworn off, remember?" Duo's smile perked up when he spotted a cab heading their way. "I'm interested in this Yuy for strictly professional reasons." "Right." Resigned, Hilde climbed in when the cab swung to the curb. "I swear." Duo lifted his right hand to add impact to the oath. "We want to get into Storm's head more, into his background and stuff. So I pick this cop's brain a little." He gave a cabbie both his address and Hilde's. "After Jade gets attacked by the Millbrook Maniac, Storm isn't going to be able to hold back his feelings for her. More has to come out about who and what he is. If we do have Elana arrested for Reed's murder, that's going to complicate his life--you know, family loyalty versus professional ethics. And once he confronts Brock…" "Hey." At a red light, the cabbie turned, peering at them from under his fading Mets cap. "You talking about 'Secret Sins'?" "Yeah." Duo brightened. "Do you watch it?" "The wife tapes it every day. You don't look familiar.'' "We're not on it," Duo explained. "We write it." "Gotcha." Satisfied, he punched the accelerator when the light changed. "Let me tell you what I think about that two-timing Vicki." As he proceeded to do just that, Duo leaned forward, debating with him. Hilde closed her eyes and tried to catch up on lost sleep.
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