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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 18 Quatre flexed his hand on the steering wheel as he turned on West Seventy-sixth. He wasn’t nervous this time. He was eager. The idea of bringing in Victor Gaintz—the founder of Perfect Peace People and a son of an U.S. senator—for questioning in the murders of three women had him chafing at the bit. They had him, Quatre thought. He knew they had the creep. The artist’s sketch, the blood type, the voiceprint. It had been quick work on that, he mused. Flavored with luck. Duo’s tape had been one of those twisted aspects of police work that never failed to fascinate him. It was Trilwalter who’d identified Gaintz from the sketch. Quatre remembered that the boss had taken a long, hard look at the artist’s rendering and then ordered Heero to the newspaper morgue. The desk clerk had picked the reprint of Gaintz’s newspaper picture from a choice of five. From there, Heero had used a connection at one of the local television stations and had finessed a videotape of Gaintz campaigning for his father. The lab boys had jumped right on it, and had matched the voice to the one on Duo’s tape. It still made him queasy to think about what had been on that tape, but that was something he didn’t want to show Heero. Just as he knew better than to let Heero spot his eagerness now. “So,” Quatre said casually, “you think the Yankees have got a shot this year?” Heero didn’t even glance over. He could all but taste his partner’s excitement. “When a cop starts licking his lips, he forgets things. Miranda rights, probable cause, makes all kinds of little procedural mistakes that help slime ooze out of courtrooms and back onto the street.” Quatre clenched his jaw. “I’m not licking my lips.” “Winner, you’ll be drooling any minute.” Heero looked over at the beautiful old building while Quatre hunted up a parking space. The Gothic touches appealed to Heero, as did the tall, narrow windows and the scattering of terrace gardens. Gaintz lived on the top floor, in a plush two level condo with a view of the park and a uniformed doorman downstairs. Gaintz came and went as he pleased, wearing his Italian suits and his Swiss watch. And three women were dead, one in the hospital. “Don’t take it personally,” Heero said when they got out of the car. “Yuy’s rule number five.” But Quatre was getting good, very good at reading his partner. “You want him as bad as I do.” Heero looked over, his eyes meeting, then locking on Quatre’s. There wasn’t eagerness in them or excitement or even satisfaction. They were all cold fury. “So let’s go get the bastard.” They flashed their badges for the doorman, then rode partway up in the elevator with a plump middle-aged woman and her yipping schnauzer. Heero glanced up and spotted the security camera in the corner. It might come in handy, he thought. The DA would have to subpoena the tapes for the nights of the murders. If they were dated and timed, so much the better. But, if not, they would still show Gaintz going and coming. The schnauzer got off at four. They continued on to eight. Side by side, they approached 8B. Though the door was thick, Heero could hear the strains of an aria from Aida coming from the apartment. He’d never cared much for opera, but he’d liked this particular one. He wondered if it would be spoiled for him now. He rang the buzzer. Heero had to ring it a second time before Gaintz answered. Heero recognized him. It was almost as though they were old friends now that Heero had pored over the newspaper shots and stories, the videotape. And, of course, he knew his voice. Knew it when it was calm, when it was amused, and when it was darkly, sickly, thrilled. Dressed in a thick velour rode that matched his china blue eyes, Gaintz stood dripping, rubbing a thick monogrammed towel over his fair hair. “Victor Gaintz?” “That’s right.” Gaintz glanced pleasantly from face to face. He didn’t have the street sense to smell cop. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time.” “Yes, sir.” Never taking his eyes off Gaintz’s, Heero took out his badge. “Detectives Yuy and Winner.” “Detectives?” Gaintz’s voice was bland, only mildly curious, but Heero saw the flicker. “Don’t tell me my secretary forgot to pay my parking tickets again.” “You’ll have to get dressed, Mr. Gaintz.” Still watching, Heero replaced his shield. “We’d like you to come with us.” “With you?” Gaintz eased backward a step. Quatre noted that his hand eased down toward the doorknob, closed over it. Knuckles whitened. “I’m afraid that would be very inconvenient. I have a dinner engagement.” “You’ll want to cancel that,” Heero said. “This may take awhile.” “Detective—?” “Yuy.” “Ah, Yuy. Do you know who I am?” Because it suited him, because he wanted it, Heero let Gaintz see the knowledge. “I know exactly who you are, Jack.” Heero allowed himself one quick flash of pleasure at the fear that leaped into Gaintz’s eyes. “We’re going downtown, Mr. Gaintz. Your presence is requested for questioning on the murders of three woman, and the assault of a fourth. Mary Rodell.” Heero’s voice grew quieter, more dangerous, on each name. “Angie Horowitz, Crystal LaRue and Dorothy Catalonia. You’re free to call your attorney.” “This is absurd.” Heero slapped a hand on the door before Gaintz could slam it shut. “We can take you in as your are—and give your neighbors a thrill. Or you can get dressed.” Heero saw the quick panic and was braced even as Gaintz turned to run. Heero knew better—sure he did—but it felt so damn good to body-slam the man up against that silk-papered wall. A small, delicate statue tipped from its niche and bounced on the carpet. When he hauled Gaintz up by the lapels, he saw the gold chain, the dangling heart with a crack running through it that was the twin of the one they had in evidence. And he saw the fresh white bandage that neatly covered the wounds that Dorothy had inflicted as she fought for her life. “Give me a reason.” Heero leaned in close. “I’d love it.” “I’ll have your badges.” Tears began to leak out of Gaintz’s eyes as he slid to the floor. “My father will have your badges.” In disgust, Heero stood over him. “Go find him some pants,” he said to Quatre. “I’ll read him his rights.” With a nod, Quatre started for the bedroom. “Don’t take it personally, Yuy.” Heero glanced over with something that was almost a smile. “Fuck off, Winner.” * * * They had him cold, Heero thought as he turned into Duo’s building. They could call out every fancy lawyer on the East Coast, and it wouldn’t mean a damn thing. The physical evidence was overwhelming—particularly since they’d found the murder weapon in the nightstand drawer. Opportunity was unlikely to be a problem, and as for motive—he’d leave that up to the shrinks. Undoubtedly they’d cop an insanity plea. Maybe they’d even pull it off. One way or the other, he was off the streets. It went a long way toward easing the bitterness he’d felt over Dorothy’s attack. He hoped it would help Duo with his own worries. Heero had nearly called Duo from the station, but he’d wanted to tell him face-to-face. As Heero waited for the elevator, he shifted the bunch of lilacs he held. Maybe it was a weird time to bring him flowers, but Heero thought Duo needed them. Stepping into the car, Heero tucked a hand in his pocket and felt the jeweler’s box. It was an even weirder time to propose marriage. But Heero knew he needed it. It scared Heero just how much he’d come to depend on having Duo with him. To talk to him, to listen to him, to make him laugh. To make love with him. Heero knew he was rushing things, but he justified it by assuring himself that if he got Duo to marry him quickly enough, he wouldn’t have time to change his mind. Duo believed he was in love with him. After they were committed, emotionally and legally, Heero would take as much time as necessary to make certain it was true. The elevator opened, and Heero dug for his keys. They’d order in tonight, he decided. Put on some music, light some candles. Heero grimaced as he fit the key into the lock. No, Duo had probably had that routine before, and he’d be damned if he’d follow someone else’s pattern. He’d have to think of something else. Heero opened the door with his arm full of nodding lilacs, his mind racing to think of some clever, innovative way to ask Duo to marry him. The color went out of his face and turned his eyes to midnight. Heero felt something slam into his chest. It was like being shot. Duo was standing in the center of the room, his laughter just fading away. In another man’s arms, his mouth just retreating from another man’s lips. “Trowa, I—“ Duo heard the sound of the door and turned. The bright, beaming smile on his face froze, then faded away like the laughter. “Heero.” “I guess I should have knocked.” Heero’s voice was dead calm. Viciously calm. “No, of course not.” There were butterflies in Duo’s stomach, and their wings were razor-sharp. “Trowa, this is Heero. I’ve told you about him.” “Sure. Think I met you at Duo’s last party.” Lanky, green-eyed and obviously oblivious to the tension throbbing in the air, he gave Duo’s shoulders a squeeze. “He gives the best.” Heero set the flowers aside. One fragile bloom fell from the table and was ignored. “So I’ve heard.” “Well, I’ve got to be going.” Trowa bent to give Duo another kiss. Heero’s hands clenched. “You won’t let me down?” “Of course not.” Duo worked up a smile, grateful that Trowa was too preoccupied to sense the falseness of it. “You know how happy I am for you, Trowa. I’ll be in touch.” Trowa went out cheerfully, calling out a last farewell before he shut the door. In the silence, Heero noticed the music for the first time. Violins and flutes whispered out of Duo’s stereo. Very romantic, Heero thought, and his teeth clenched like his fists. “Well.” Duo’s eyes were burning dry, though his heart was weeping. “I can see I should explain.” Duo walked over to the wine he’d poured for Trowa and topped off his glass. “I can also see that you’ve already made up your mind, so explanations would be pointless.” “You move fast, Duo.” Duo was very glad he had this back to Heero for a moment. Very glad, because his hand trembled as Duo lifted the wine. “Do you think so, Heero?” “Or maybe you’ve been seeing him all along.” “You can say that?” Now Duo turned, and the first flashes of anger burst through him. “You can stand there and say that to me?” “What the hell do you expect me to say?” Heero shot back. He didn’t go near Duo. Didn’t dare. “I walk in here and find you with him. A little music, a nice bottle of wine.” Heero wished he had been shot. It couldn’t possibly hurt more than this bite of betrayal. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” "No. No, I don’t.” Duo needed to sit, but he locked his knees straight. “But I must be to have been so careless as to have an assignation here when you were bound to find me out.” Duo’s eyes were like glass as he toasted Heero. “Caught me.” Heero took a step forward, stopped himself. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t sleep with him?” In the moment of silence the flutes sang. “No, I’m not going to tell you that. I’m not ashamed that I once cared enough for a very good man to be intimate with him. I’d tell you that I haven’t been with Trowa or anyone else since I met you, but evidence is against me, isn’t it Detective?” He was so tired, Duo thought, so terribly tired, and the scent of the lilacs made him want to weep. He had finally been able to visit Dorothy today, still no change, and seeing that once vibrant woman laying so near death in that hospital room had just drained him. He had gone alone without mentioning it to Heero. But Duo had needed him there. “You let him kiss you.” “Yes, I let him kiss me. I’ve let lots of men kiss me. Isn’t that the problem?” Duo set down the wine before he could do something rash, like tossing it to the floor, or at Heero’s face. “You didn’t come to me a virgin, Heero, nor did I expect you to. That’s one of the big differences between us.” “There’s a big difference between a virgin and a —“. Heero broke off, appalled with himself. He wouldn’t have meant it. Stumbling, horrified apologies whirled through Heero’s head. But he could see by the way Duo’s head jerked up, the way the color drained from his face, that there would be no taking back even the unsaid. “I think,” Duo said in an odd voice, “you’d better go.” “We haven’t finished.” “I don’t want you here. Even a whore can choose.” Heero’s face was as pale as Duo’s. “Duo, I didn’t mean that. I could never mean that. I want to understand—“ “No, you don’t.” Duo cut Heero off, his voice so thick with tears that Duo had to fight for every word. “You never wanted to understand, Heero. You never wanted to hear the one thing I needed you to believe. Now the only thing you need to understand is that I don’t want to see you again.” Heero felt something rip apart in his gut. “You can’t mean that.” “If you don’t leave now, I’ll call Security. I’ll call your captain, I’ll call the mayor.” Desperation was rising like a flood. “Whatever it takes to keep you away from me.” Heero’s eyes narrowed, sharpened. “You can call God Almighty. It won’t stop me.” “Maybe this will.” Duo gripped his hands tightly together and looked just over Heero’s shoulder. “I don’t love you, I don’t want you, I don’t need you. It was fun while it lasted, but the game’s over. You can let yourself out.” Duo turned away and walked quickly up the stairs. There had been hurt in Heero’s eyes. If there had been anger, Duo knew, Heero would have come after him, but there had been hurt, and Duo made it to the bedroom alone. With his hands over his face, Duo waited, biting back sobs, until he heard the door close downstairs. With a sound of mourning, Duo lowered himself to the bed and tasted his own tears. They were bitter. To be continued…
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