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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"
After spending most of the morning kicking his heels in court, waiting to testify in an assault case, Heero returned to find his partner hip-deep in paperwork. "The boss wants to see you," Quatre said through a mouthful of chocolate bar. "Right." Heero shrugged out of his jacket and dragged off his court-appearance tie. With his free hand he picked up his pile of messages. "I think he meant now," Quatre said helpfully. "I got it." As he passed Quatre's desk, Heero peeked over his shoulder at the report in the typewriter. "Two p's in apprehend, Einstein." Quatre backspaced and scowled. "You sure?" "Trust me." Heero swung through the squad room and knocked on Captain Trilwalter's glass door. "Come." Trilwalter glanced up. If Heero thought he was swamped with paperwork, it was nothing compared to what surrounded his captain. Trilwalter's desk was heaped with it. The overflowing files, stacks of reports and correspondence gave Trilwalter a bookish, accountant-like look. This was enhanced by the half glasses perched on his long, narrow nose, the slightly balding head and the ruthlessly knotted knit tie. But Heero knew better. Trilwalter was a cop down to the bone, and he might still be on the street but for the bullet that had damaged his left lung. "You wanted to see me, Captain?" "Yuy." Trilwalter crooked his finger, then pointed it, gesturing to Heero to come in and shut the door. He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands over his flat belly and scowled. "What the hell is all this about soap operas?" "Sir?" "Soap operas," Trilwalter repeated. "I just had a call from the mayor." Testing his ground, Heero nodded slowly. "The mayor called you about soap operas?" "You look confused, Detective." A rare, and not entirely humor-filled, smile curved Trilwalter's mouth. "That makes two of us. The name Maxwell mean anything to you? A Miss Duo Maxwell?" Heero closed his eyes a moment. "Oh, boy." "Rings a bell, does it?" "Yes, sir." Heero gave himself a brief moment to contemplate murder. "Miss Maxwell and I have a personal relationship. Sort of." "I'm not interested in your personal relationship, sort of or otherwise. Unless they come across my desk." "When I arrested her…" "Arrested her?" Trilwalter held up one hand
while he took off his glasses. Slowly, methodically, he massaged the
bridge of his nose. "I don't think I have to know about that.
Despite himself, Heero began to see the humor in it. "If I could say so, Captain, Duo tends to bring that kind of reaction out in a man." "She's a writer?" "Yes, sir. For 'Secret Sins.'" Trilwalter lifted tired eyes. " 'Secret Sins.' Apparently the mayor is quite a fan. Not only a fan, Detective, but an old chum of your Duo Maxwell's. Old chum was just how he put it." Finding discretion in silence, Heero said nothing as Trilwalter rose. The captain walked to the water-cooler wedged between two file cabinets in the corner of his office. He poured out a paper cupful and drank it down. "His honor, the mayor, requests that Miss Maxell be permitted to observe a day in your life, Detective." Heero made a comment normally reserved for locker rooms and pool halls. Trilwalter nodded sagely. "My sentiments exactly. However, one of the less appealing aspects of working this particular desk is playing politics. You lose, Detective." "Captain, we're closing in on that robbery on Lexington. I've got a new lead on the hooker murders and a message on my desk from a snitch who could know something about that stiff we found down on East Twenty-third. How am I supposed to work with some ditzy woman hanging over my shoulder?" "This is the ditzy woman you have a personal relationship with?" Heero opened his mouth, then closed it again. How to explain Duo? "Sort of," Heero said at length. "Look, Captain, I already agreed to talk to Maxwell about police work, in general, now and again. I never agreed to specifics. I sure as hell don't want her to ride shotgun while I work." "A day in your life, Yuy." With that same grim smile, Trilwalter crushed his cup and tossed it. "Monday next, to be exact." "Captain…" "Deal with it," Trilwalter said. "And see that she stays out of trouble." Dismissed, Heero stalked back to his desk. He was still muttering to himself when Quatre wandered over with two cups of coffee. "Problem?" "Duo," Heero said. "Tell me about it." Because he'd been waiting all morning for the chance, Quatre sat on the edge of Heero's desk. "Speaking of Duo, did you know that he was engaged to Chang Wufei?" Heero's head snapped up. "What?" "Used to be," Quatre explained. "One of the teachers at Catherine's school is a real gossip-gatherer. Reads all the tabloids and stuff. She was telling Catherine how Chang and Duo were a thing a few months ago." "Is that so?" Heero remembered how they'd danced together at Duo's party. Kissed. His mouth flattened into a grim line as he lifted the cup. "A real whirlwind sort of thing-according to my sources. Before that, he was engaged to Trowa Barton." "Who the hell is that?" "You know, the writer. He's got that hot play on Broadway now. Lions at the Circus. Catherine really wants to see it. I thought maybe Duo could wrangle some tickets." The sound Heero made was neither agreement nor denial. It was more of a growl. "Then there was Abdul what's-his-name you know, the son of that big publisher? That was about three years ago, but he married someone else." "Duo gets around," Heero said softly. "Yeah, and in top circles. And, hey, Catherine was really blown away when she found out that Duo was Roger K. Maxwell's kid. You know, the camera guy." "Camera guy?" Heero repeated, feeling a hole spreading in the pit of his stomach. "As in Maxwell-Holden?" "Yeah. First camera I ever brought was a Holden 500. Use their film all the time, too. Hell, so does the department. Well." He straightened. "If you get a chance, maybe you could ask Duo about those tickets. It sure would mean a lot to Catherine." Maxwell-Holden. Heero ran the names over in his head while the noise of the squad room buzzed around him. For God's sake, he had one of their cameras himself. He'd bought their little red packs of film hundreds of times over the years. The department used their developing paper. He was pretty sure NASA did too. Wasn't Duo just full of secrets! So he was rich. Filthy rich. Heero picked up his messages again, telling himself it wasn't such a big deal. Wouldn't have been, he corrected himself silently, if Duo had told him about it himself. Engaged, he thought with a frown. Three times engaged. Shrugging, he picked up the phone. None of his business, he reminded himself as he punched in numbers. If Duo had been married three times, it would be none of his business. He was taking Duo dancing, not on a honeymoon. But it was a long time before he was able to shuffle Duo into a back corner of his mind and get on with his job. * * * * * * * Sexy, the man had said, Duo remembered, turning in front of his cheval glass. It looked as though he was going to oblige Heero. Sung teal silk hugged every inch of flesh and ended abruptly at mid-thigh. Over the strapless, unadorned bodice, he wore a short body jacket of fuchsia. Long, wand-shaped crystals dangled at his ears. After stepping into his heels, Duo smoothed his braid one last time. He felt like dancing. When his buzzer sounded, Duo grinned at his reflection. Leave it to a cop to be right on time. Grabbing his purse-a small one that bulged with what he considered the essentials-Duo hurried to the intercom. "I'll come down. Hold on." Duo found Heero on the sidewalk, looking perfect in gray slacks and a navy shirt. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his bomber jacket. "Hi." Duo kissed him lightly, then tucked an arm though his. "Where are we going?" It gave Heero a jolt, the way their eyes and mouths lined up. As they would if they were in bed. "Downtown," Heero said shortly, and steered Duo left toward the corner to catch a cab. Heero couldn't have pleased Duo more with his choice of the noisy, crowded club. The moment Duo stepped inside, Duo's blood started to hum. The music was loud, the dancing in full swing. They squeezed up to the bar to wait for a table. "Vodka, rocks," Heero ordered, raising his voice over the din. "Two," Duo decided, and smiled at Heero. "I think I was here before, a few months ago." "I wouldn't be surprised." Not his business, Heero reminded himself. Duo's background, the men in his life. None of it. The hell it wasn't. "It doesn't look like the kind of place Chang would bring you." "Wufei?" Duo eyes laughed. "No, not his style." Duo angled himself around. "I love to watch people dance, don't you? It's one of the few legal forms of exhibitionism in this country." When Heero handed him his drink, Duo murmured a thank-you. "Take that guy there." Duo gestured with the glass at a man who was strutting on the floor, thumbs in his belt loops, hips wiggling. "That's definitely one of the standard urban white male mating dances." "Did you do a lot of dancing with Barton?" Heero heard himself ask. "Trowa?" Duo sampled the vodka, pursed his lips. "Not really. He was more into sitting in some smoky club listening to esoteric music that he could obsess to." Still scanning the crowd, Duo caught the eye of a man in black leather. He cocked a brow and started toward Duo. One hard look from Heero, and he veered away. Duo chuckled into his glass. "That put him in his place." Rattling his ice, Duo grinned up at him. "Were you born with that talent, or did you have to develop it?" Heero plucked that glass out of Duo's hand and set it aside. "Let's dance." Always willing to dance, Duo let Heero pull him onto the floor. But instead of bopping to the beat, he wrapped his arms around him. While legs flashed and arms waved around them, and the music rocked, they glided. "Nice." Smiling into Heero's eyes, Duo linked his arms around his neck. "I see why you like to make your own moves, Detective." "I believe I promised you romance." Heero skimmed his lips over Duo's jaw to his ear. "Yes." Duo's breath came out slow and warm as he closed his eyes. "You did." "I'm not sure what you consider romantic." Duo's skin shivered under Heero's lips. "This is a good start." "It's tough." Heero drew away so that their lips were an inch apart. "It's tough for a cop to compete with tycoons and playwrights." Duo's eyes were half-closed and dreamy through his lashes. "What are you talking about?" "A couple of your former fiancés." The lashes lifted fractionally. "What about them?" "I wondered when you were going to mention them. Or the fact that your father runs one of the biggest conglomerates known to man. Or the little detail about your chum the mayor calling my captain." They continued to dance as Heero spoke, but Duo could see the anger building in his eyes. "Do you want to take them as separate issues, or all in one piece?" Duo was a cool one, Heero thought. He was feeling anything but cool. "Why don't we start with the mayor? You had no right." "I didn't ask him to call, Hee-ro." Duo spoke carefully, feeling the taut strength of Heero's fingers at his waist. "We were having dinner, and…" "You often have dinner with the mayor?" "He's an old family friend," Duo said patiently. "I was telling him how helpful you'd been, and one thing led to another. I didn't know he'd called your captain until after it was done. I admit I liked the idea, and if it's caused you any trouble, I'm sorry." "Great." "My work's as important to me as yours is to you," Duo shot back, struggling with his own temper. "If you'd prefer, I can arrange to spend Monday observing another cop." "You'll spend Monday where I can keep my eye on you." "Fine. Excuse me." Duo broke away and worked his way though the crowd to the rest room. The music pulsed against the walls as he paced the small room, ignoring the chatter from the two women freshening their lipstick at the mirror. Losing his temper would be unproductive, Duo reminded himself. Better, much better, to handle this situation calmly, coolly. When Duo was almost sure he could, he walked back out. Heero was waiting for him. Taking his arm, Heero led Duo to a table in the rear, where they could talk without shouting. "I think we should go. There's no use staying when you're so angry with me," Duo began, but Heero merely scraped back a chair. "Sit." Duo sat. "When were you going to tell me about your family?" "I don't see it as an issue." And that was true enough. "Why should it be? This is only the second time we've gone out." The look Heero sent him, had Duo jiggling a foot under the table. "You know damn well there's more going on between us than a couple of dates." "All right, yes, I do." Duo picked up his
drink, then set it down again, untouched. "But that's not the
point. You're acting as though I deliberately hid something from you,
or lied. Heero picked up the fresh drink he'd ordered. "So tell me now." "What? Didn't you run a make on me?" Heero's narrowed eyes gave Duo some small sense of satisfaction. "Okay, Detective, I'll fill you in since you're so interested. My family owns Maxwell-Holden, which, since it's inception in 1873, has expanded from still cameras and film to movies, television, satellites, and all manner of things. Shall I have them send you a prospectus?" "Don't get smart." "I'm just warming up." Duo hooked an arm over the back of his chair. "My father heads the company, and my mother entertains and does good works. I'm an only child, who was born rather late in life to them. My father's name is Roger, and he enjoys a racketing good game of polo. My mother's name is Helen, and she prefers a challenging rubber of bridge. What else would you like to know?" Despite his temper, Heero wanted to take Duo's hand and soothe him. "Damn it, Duo, it isn't an interrogation." "Isn't it? Let me make it easy on you, Hee-ro. I was born in New York, spent the early part of my childhood on our estate on Long Island, in the care of a very British nanny I was extremely fond of, before going off to boarding school. Which I detested. This, however, left my mother free to pursue her many charitable causes, and my father free to pursue his business. We are not close. From time to time we did travel together, but I was not a pretty child, nor a tractable one, and once I started dressing in drag, my parents left my care up to the servants." "Duo…" "I'm not finished." Duo's eyes were hard and bright. "This isn't a poor-little-rich-boy story, Hee-ro. I wasn't neglected or unhappy. Since I had no more in common with my parents than they had with me, I was content to go my own way. They don't interfere, and we get along very well. Because I prefer making my own way, I don't trumpet the fact that I'm Roger K. Maxwell's heir. I don't hide it, either-otherwise, I would have changed my name. It's simply a fact. Satisfied?" Heero took his hand before Duo could rise. His voice was calm again, and too gentle to resist. "I wanted to know who you are. I have feelings for you, so it matters." Slowly Duo's hand relaxed under Heero's. The hard gleam faded from his eyes. "I understand that someone with your background would feel that their family, who and what they came from, are a part of what they are. I don't feel that way about myself." "Where you come from means something, Duo." "Where you are means more. What does your father do?" "He's a carpenter." "Why aren't you a carpenter?" "Because it wasn't what I wanted." Heero drummed his fingers on the table as he studied Duo. "Your point," he acknowledged. "Look, I'm sorry I pushed. It was just weird hearing all this from Quatre." "From Quatre?" "He got it from Catherine, who got it from some other teacher who reads the tabloids." Even as he said it, it struck him as ridiculous. Heero grinned. "See?" Relaxed again, Duo leaned forward. "Life is like a soap opera." "Yours is. Three ex-fiancés?" "That depends on how you count." Duo took Heero's hand, because he liked the feel of it in his. "I wasn't engaged to Wufei. He did give me a ring, and I didn't have the heart to tell him it was ostentatious. But marriage wasn't discussed." "One of the ten richest men in the country gave you an ostentatious ring, but marriage wasn't discussed?" "That's right. Wufei is a very nice man-a little pompous, sometimes, but who wouldn't be, with so many people ready to grovel? Can we get some chips or something?" "Sure." Heero signaled to a waitress. "So you didn't want to marry him." "I never thought about it." Since Heero asked, Duo did so now. "No, I don't think I would have liked it very much. He wouldn't have either. Wufei finds me amusing and a little unconventional. Being a tycoon isn't all fun and games, you know." "If you say so." Duo chuckled. "But he'd prefer a different type for his next wife." Duo dived in immediately when the waitress set baskets of chips and pretzels on the table. "I enjoyed being in love with him for a few weeks, but it wasn't the romance of the century." "What about the other one, the writer?" "Trowa." There was a trace of wistfulness
now. "I was really stuck on Trowa. He has this kind of glow about
him. He's so interested in people, in emotions, in motivations."
"Middie?" "His wife. They met at a whale rally. They've been married almost two years now." Heero was determined to get it right. "You were engaged to a married man?" "No." Insulted, Duo poked out his lip. "Of course not. He got married after we were engaged-that is, after we weren't engaged anymore. Trowa would never cheat on Middie. He's too decent." "Sorry, my mistake." Heero considered changing the subject, but this one was just too fascinating. "How about Abdul? Was he between Trowa and Chang?" "No, Abdul was before Trowa and after Walker. Practically in another life." "Walker? There was another one?" "Oh, you didn't know about him." Duo propped his chin on his hand. "I guess your source didn't dig back far enough. Walker was while I was in college, and we weren't engaged for very long. Only a couple of weeks. Hardly counts." Heero picked up his glass again. "Hardly." "Anyway, Abdul was a mistake-thought I'd never admit it to Hilde. She gloats." "Abdul was a mistake? The others weren't?" Duo shook his head. "Learning experiences. But Abdul, well…I was a little rash with him. I felt sorry for him, because he was always sure he was coming down with some terminal illness, and he'd been in therapy since kindergarten. We should never have gotten involved romantically. I was really relieved when he decided to marry Nancy instead." "Is this like a hobby?" Heero asked after a moment. "No, people plan hobbies. I never plan to fall in love. It just happens." Duo's smile was amused and tolerant. "It feels good, and when it's over, no one's hurt. It isn't a sexual thing, like with Vicki. She goes from man to man because of the sense of sexual power it gives her. I know most people think if you have a relationship with a man-particularly if you're engaged to him-you must be sleeping with him. But it's not always true." "And if you're not engaged to him?" Because the question demanded it, Duo met Heero's eyes levelly. "Every situation has its own rules. I don't know what they are for this one yet." "Things may get serious." There was a slight pressure around Duo's heart. "That's always a possibility." "They're serious enough right now for me to ask if you're seeing anyone else." Duo knew it was happening. Duo had never been able to prevent the slow, painless slide into love. "Are you asking me if I am, or are you asking me not to?" It wasn't painless for Heero. It was terrifying. With what strength of will he had left, Heero held himself on that thin shaky edge. "I'm asking you not to. And I'm telling you that I don't want anyone else. I can't even think of anyone else." Duo's eyes were warm as he leaned over to touch his lips to Heero's. "There is no one else." Heero laid a hand on Duo's cheek to keep his mouth on his for another moment. Even as he kissed Duo, he wondered how many other men had heard him say those same words. Heero told himself he was a jealous idiot. With an effort, he managed to smother the feeling. Rising, Heero took Duo's hands and pulled him to his feet. "We're supposed to be dancing." "So I was told. Hee-ro." Snuggling into love as he would have into a cozy robe, Duo cupped Heero's face in his hands. "What?" "I'm just looking. I want to make sure you're not mad at me anymore." "I'm not mad at you." To prove it, Heero kissed the tip of Duo's crooked nose. No, not angry, Duo thought, searching Heero's eyes. But there was something else shadowed there. Duo couldn't quite identify it. "My middle name's Benjamin." With a half smile on his lips, Heero tilted his head. "Okay." "I'm trying to think if there's something else you might want to know that I haven't told you." Needing to be close, Duo rested his cheek against Heero's. "I really don't have any secrets." Heero turned his face into Duo's hair. God, what was Duo doing to him to tie him up in knots like this? Heero pulled Duo against him, wrapping his arms tight around him. "I know all I need to know," Heero said quietly. "We're going to have to figure out those rules, Duo. We're going to have to figure them out fast." "Okay." Duo wasn't sure what was holding him back. It would have been so easy to hurry out of the club with Heero, to go home with him and be with him. His body was straining for Heero. And yet… The first tremor of panic shocked Duo enough to have him pull back and smile, too brightly. He wasn't afraid, Duo assured himself. And he didn't need to overanalyze. When the time was right to move forward, Duo would know it. That was all. "Come on, Detective." Still smiling, Duo pulled Heero away from the table. "Let's see if you can keep up with me on the dance floor."
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