"Defying Gravity"

A Romance in Three Parts

Written By: Kaeru Shisho

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: AU, yaoi, some language

Pairings: 1x2x1, 3x4x3

Summary: A multi part story of romance starting with a turning point vacation, developing throughout a dangerous UC mission, and moving ahead through the unexpected challenges of a summer vacation.

"Part Two: It's Back to Work"

"I...ah..."

I hesitated to confess to my best friend, but I'd already begun. It was better he heard it from me than from Maxwell later.

"I was harsh with Maxwell."

There, I confessed to my gentle-hearted, best friend.

"Oh, Trowa, he knows he brings it on himself most of the time," Quatre said, his voice forgiving me already. "Tell me what happened."

"Yuy left and Maxwell started reverting back to Scythe instantly. I gave him a heads-up warning that he was too immersed in his damned role. I said I hated him that way."

"Yes, but I'm sure you were a long way from meaning it," Quatre said gently. "You did the right thing, love."

"He didn't take it well." I absorbed the endearment, letting it soothe my nerves.

"No, Duo wouldn't, but maybe he'll consider your words when he calms down. Now, if we could just get some information about this new drug."

"New drug?" I spoke softly into the phone to Quatre. I always felt the need to treat him gently, not that he'd break, but that he deserved a kinder world.

Quatre answered,"They've had people working on Duo's blood sample trying to figure out what all is in it."

I narrowed my eyes reflexively. "I don't understand."

"The blood samples you sent me? Wufei has been in the labs making certain they've run every test conceivable, and then some. So far the analysis is incomplete." Quatre sighed. "We've got to find out what it is and why the anti-drug serum didn't work. If the serum knocked down the effects at all, imagine what the drug would do to some kid on the street that got hold of it. And...I want you safe."

"Oh, I already know it's pretty bad. Maxwell only had one dose that I'm aware of." My turn to sigh into the receiver. Safe. "Call us if you find out before tomorrow, or—" I looked down at my watch and realized that it was nearly three in the morning. "Well, I guess this is tomorrow," I chuckled and heard my lover's soft laugh in response. "We're supposed to be having dinner or clubbing with Gunter again soon. It would safer if we had more information on that drug before then."

I could picture him lying in bed talking to me on the phone. I had no trouble doing that. I had watched and studied him well, just as I had trained myself as a child. My survival rules: observe others, pay attention, train and hone skills. Still, I found myself unprepared for love.

(o)

It amazed me at first to find any depth of emotion in my heart. So many faces had come and gone in my misspent youth, but to have found a friend like Quatre at fifteen and have him as my lover by eighteen was unbelievable. He liked being tough as a fighter, which was hard with those refined manners of his, but he tried and became more resilient instead. My admiration for him grew.

There wasn't much time to discover love, while fighting for our lives in the war.

Before I knew I was attracted to him, I would study Quatre every chance I got. I read Quatre's emotions as they played across his face, giving strength and meaning to my own. I had to learn to do that. I had clamped down on my feelings for so long, I had to study others'.

Maxwell was good to learn from, too. His expressive face and uninhibited mannerisms reflected his volatility pretty clearly. It was Maxwell's optimism that I appreciated most, and one thing he told me. He and I had watched Quatre outmaneuver death, Sandrock flying out of a cloud of explosive detritus. Maxwell told me that "God holds certain people up by strings and he was sure Quatre was one of them."

I wasn't so sure, so I vowed to find and secure a few strings, just in case.

Yuy was more like me with a limited range of visual clues as to what he felt. I didn't see Chang as often. He seemed average, but rarely happy. Like me.

Winner had his bad times, too, but those memories have faded, leaving me with his best moments. So, I watched them all and found a range of feelings, but Quatre Winner was the bright spot of hope in every day of my life.

No one should rely on another as I found myself doing to Quatre, without a security rope, just in case them timing is off.

At first, I couldn't tell if he was interested in guys at all, he was so socially reserved, in a professional way. I knew he was interested me, but he repressed his sexuality so much, I wasn't certain if he wanted a friendship or a romance. I was afraid to approach him and scare him off, but I yearned for more than just having him in my dreams. I walked a tightrope without a net.

So, you can imagine my surprise when he was the one to ask me out first.

That first date was amazing. He took me to lunch and talked to me, asked me questions, and listened. No one had ever listened before, really cared about what I had to say. It was late, too late to go back to work after that, so he drove us to a high-rise building owned by the Winner Corporation, and took me up to this penthouse apartment that belonged to an older sister of his.

He wasn't inhibited at all, in private.

I had him for dinner. I licked every inch of his delicate, pale body and sucked him dry. His beautiful, clear skin, so refined, and his pink lips, moaning from my ministrations enthralled me that night. I became a slave to his desires. He was not inexperienced either, which was another shock. Then it occurred to me that he and Maxwell were, or had once been, lovers. It was disappointing, in a way. I liked them both. Wished them happiness. Felt fortunate to have anything Quatre had to give, even his leftovers.

Not that I wanted to share him with Maxwell, but I could.

(o)

My partner at work was Heero Yuy, and he was attracted to Maxwell. When he told me, I thought I'd heard him wrong. Therapy was doing us both some good, but I wondered if he wasn't going overboard with his newfound affections. Maxwell was so diametrically opposed to Yuy; I couldn't have dreamed up a less likely combination, and I could dream up some pretty weird stuff.

He and I shared an interest in the close friendship between Quatre and Maxwell, but in different ways. Yuy was deeply jealous of Quatre. He saw him as a rival, and Yuy wasn't like me. He wasn't one to share or accept being second to anyone. Yuy was number one in all ways. I could work in threes. I saw a potentially bad end come to our friendships over this.

Eventually I had to ask Quatre where Maxwell and he stood, and where I fit in, if only for Yuy's sake.

"Quatre?"

"Hmmm?"

"Just tell me if it's not my business..."

"Okay, what?"

"I just want to know if you and Maxwell... I know you're good friends, but is it more? Am I just a fill-in while he's away? It's okay if I am. I just want to know."

"A fill-in, for Duo? Oh, no! First of all, know one could fill Duo's shoes, or want to. Second, he and I are best of friends, but there is no romance. He doesn't date guys, to begin with, and we're not interested in one another that way, I guess, understand?"

I understood that Quatre was attracted to Maxwell, but that his feelings weren't reciprocated. That was okay. I could live with that. I was attracted to Maxwell, too. I tried to buy into the fact that Maxwell wasn't into guys, which I couldn't believe, but if that was true then I'd leave Yuy to deal with him. If Yuy had a chance with Maxwell, well, great. More power to him. Maybe Quatre would stop pining after him eventually, because as much as I might want a man like Quatre all to myself, I'd never ask that of him. How could I? He was far too good for me.

"And lastly," he went on, "you aren't a fill-in for anybody. You are a fascinating man that I just adore. You're funny and fun and flexible!"

He adored me. No one have ever said something like that to me, whether they meant it or not. I couldn't find the words to express how I felt, so I tried to put it into my kiss. I gave him everything I could, but how could I give the man who had it all something as sorry as my love?

"I'm so lucky," I said.

"You make me feel so treasured. I'm the lucky one," he said, supplying the words I yearned to say.

Treasured. Yes, I treasured him, and in return he cherished me. How I missed the man I trusted with my soul!

(o)

A voice, his voice in my ear both startled me back to our phone conversation and soothed my aching heart.

"I can do better than that," Quatre said. The delight in his voice filled the emptiness inside me. "I'm on a plane about to land in New Germany."

"Really?! I don't hear the usual background roar," I told him, attempting to keep my own voice level out of habit, but I was unable to hide my excitement completely.

"Winner Corp private jet. I couldn't stay home and chance running into someone I knew looking like I do, so I've been hiding at one of the company estates. As soon as I heard from Heero, I left. I couldn't just sit around another day waiting for Mr. Peacecraft to call me."

"I'm," I hunted for the right word, "breathless, waiting."

"I'll be there in a matter of hours, so breathe."

"Ring me. I'll meet you."

"I have a limo, unmarked, taking me to your address. Keep a light on."

"I won't leave the window," I promised.

I remained poised at the window, unmoving, waiting until I saw his beautiful face as he stepped out of the car. His glowing buoyancy washed over me, cleaning my soul, which had been soiled by this mission. No kiss was ever so sweet. I couldn't imagine why he chose me, wanted me, or loved me.

He was gorgeous, talented, sophisticated, tender, and wealthy enough to buy anything and anyone, and yet he was satisfied with me. Me. It was senseless to explain and staggering to believe. I would die when at last he woke up and turned me out, tired of me and my plainness, but at least I would have lived fully first.

That night, Maxwell brought Milliardo back from the hospital. Milliardo was resting in bed recovering from a pair of cracked ribs, a blackened eye, and bruised jaw. He was lucky Yuy pulled his punches, and Maxwell was lucky, too. Milliardo's partnership with Maxwell could have been over, the mission scrapped, and the prince could have been dead. Yuy was fortunate to be long gone by the time his honor returned. Yuy's membership with the team was a laser-beam width from having been severed, and Lady Une could have had him fired. Yeah, sure...more like demoted. Who was I kidding? Barely wrist-slapped, but he would have been re-assigned certainly.

I was just happy the entire fiasco was swept under the couch with the rest of the dirt, and that it was Quatre's presence which helped. He always improved how we got along with one another. Congenial and sensitive to the comforts and concerns of others.

I loved him. Still do. Always will, long after he's moved on.

Quatre was ensconced comfortably sound asleep in our room. He and I would share it for the duration. I settled onto the office futon to stare at an unraveling braid. Maxwell leaned over and turned off the computer for the night, wondering aloud, "What if we fucked this up by being gone, er, out of circulation for so long?"

"You didn't. Nothing's happening. I monitored while you were gone. Dull and quiet."

"Ah, right. Sorry, Tamer. I didn't mean you didn't do your job. It's just we missed some clubbing opportunities. What if another player's getting more face out there?"

I shrugged. Who knew? Not me. "Gunter's been calling around, according to the phone taps, trying to find out what's happened to you guys. He's anxious to re-connect."

"So, the absence may have worked to our benefit?" Maxwell asked.

"Sure, like they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder," I said.

"I thought that was 'abstinence' that made the heart fonder," he joked.

"That too!" I laughed.

"Move over, I'm dead and going to crash in here."

It was the first I'd seen of Maxwell's sense of humor since I'd arrived, aside from the two days Yuy was visiting. Mostly, he stayed angry, pushy, and sometimes downright nasty. By the time I left the room, he was asleep. I hoped it would be dreamless. I didn't wonder what Maxwell dreamed about, but I doubt it led to restful slumbers.

When Milliardo awoke, I told him Quatre had arrived as he'd asked. Milliardo didn't remember ordering Quatre to come, which he didn't, but then he was pretty hopped up on pain killers and didn't care either. I could lie with ease, and without battering my conscience, unlike Maxwell.

Importantly, Zechs wasn't up to eating, especially eating out, or clubbing, so Quatre missed his big debut to the local New Germantown club scene. He took his turn monitoring the house across the street, reading through log books, and searching for leads like the rest of us. Maxwell, Quatre, and I took in some movies, shopped, and exercised, filling in the time before Gunter's Valentine's Day party.

We turned eyes everywhere we went. Without trying, we looked spectacular all well-groomed and well-dressed. This was nothing like the wartime work we'd seen, and for a few days life was marginally good again, and a lot less effort.

Word would get around about Quatre soon enough without delivering him into the dark world of sin and corruption. I wanted to shield him from that world as long as possible, and it seemed Maxwell understood. Even when he was pure Scythe, he seemed protective of Quatre. As angry as Maxwell could make me as Scythe, I had to admire his loyalty and team skills.

The two were close friends, which further enforced my feelings of inadequacy-- so said my therapist. I could have gone for Maxwell and his sexy ass; in fact, there had been numerous times when I had considered asking Maxwell out, if only to find out once and for all if he grooved on guys or not. Not much time, because he wasn't around much and when he was, he was too hot to handle. Yuy was practically indestructible, so I decided to let him get burned first. Plus, like I said, I was getting some from Quatre. I didn't want to mess that up with a tentative play for Maxwell.

Where Maxwell sizzled, Quatre steamed. More of a slow, gentle burn to his energy. This, I was told, was the makings of a lasting relationship, and better for someone with my easy-going temperament. Not that Quatre was a sop. He was brilliant, funny, and so loving-- good loving.

Quatre denied his attraction to his good friend, but it was there in his eyes. Of course, he looked at me in a special way, too, I was told. He made me the heart of his world, believe it or not, and still held close to Maxwell. Jealous? Not me. I was damned lucky Quatre gave me the time of day.

I still think so.

(o)

The whole vacation together idea had been a good one. I forget who came up with it first, Yuy or me, but it helped cement the five of our friendships. It was the last one, near the ski resort that we finally got Maxwell and Yuy to deal with their mutual attraction, and I learned why Quatre was retreating from my increasing sexual demands.

I wished that he'd confided in me earlier. Raped while imprisoned by OZ goons was a terrible trauma to keep to himself. I eagerly joined him in his therapy sessions. Together with were counseled and worked on our communication skills, mine mostly, in order to find a comfortable meeting-ground in bed.

It wasn't like I had an active sex life.

I'd been ground face down into the dirt numerous times by older boys. I'd never been hurt badly enough to hate the experience, but I didn't go looking for a fast fuck either. Later, after the war, I'd gone looking for relief in sex and found it a couple of times with pick-ups in bars.

None of those were memorable occasions.

When Quatre told me one night that he wanted me, I knew it would be a monumentally memorable occasion. I never knew when the good times would end and I'd need those memories of intimate bliss to hold onto. He topped me first and wasn't as gentle as I imagined, but he didn't hurt me. When my turn came weeks later, I had researched extensively, gone shopping, and came prepared.

He was a natural bottom, and I'm glad I was the one to show him the heat of sex.

(o)

For a few days, my lover and I re-discovered one another, wrapped ourselves in the security we found in one another, and enjoyed what we knew would be a short reprieve from the realities of what was to come. Maxwell played Scythe and hung out with Milliardo, maybe it was his way of giving us that privacy, or maybe he was needing some sexual outlet himself. I didn't ask.

If Milliardo noticed Maxwell's new nipple ring, he didn't say. I thought it was cool. If Quatre had wanted to pierce anything, I would have joined him. My body was his to decorate in any manner he wanted. He wasn't sure. He'd think about it. I told him no problem and not to let it get to him. He was perfect. I think that relieved him. It didn't occur to me that he might just consider my needs and desires to be as important to him as his were to me.

Before long, though, the reality of the unreal undercover job broke through. Yeah, the bad times come as sure as the sun rises, or sets.

The evening of that bastard's Valentine's Day party arrived. I sat holding the small bag of pills in my hand staring at the little miracles concealed within each capsule. Yuy had been generous. I had asked for one transmitter and received twenty. The dude was devoted to Maxwell; possibly it would kill him if the wild child came to the bad end he was always headed toward.

I guess that was what the rest of us were for: supporting Duo Maxwell so that Heero Yuy could someday have a life.

Turning the bag over and over in my hand, I thought of how I could approach the boy if I saw him. Jimmy or the nameless boy in the picture with the bald man, whichever or both or maybe another. No matter how I played the scenarios out in my head, something just wasn't right. The party was in a few hours and I was way anxious. Maybe it was my "spider sense?"

I was in the office, chillin' and waiting for my turn to shower when an alarm sounded on the laptop, signaling activity coming from Gunter's computer. The monitoring screen showed that the motion sensors had been deactivated. However, when I checked Milliardo's computer, the one that was still tied in to the house security system, the read-out displayed a continuous "all on." Every single one of the sensors was still activated.

It did not make sense. Nothing had been changed and nothing had been touched. I punched in a few codes, searching vehemently for why there was this discrepancy between the two systems. Theorizing that Maxwell might have tapped into an office computer of some type that wasn't tied to the house, I probed Gunter's computer looking for the main security files. If the system was as detailed as I thought it was, then perhaps every camera or sensor was mapped out on a chart, if I was good enough at this as Maxwell, which I seriously doubted, I might locate that information before we had to go.

Over an hour later, frustrated was the polite word to describe how I felt. I left the room to check on the status of the showers, while I thought. There had never been a system that Maxwell couldn't successfully hack into.

Well, I take that back.

Shortly after our last winter vacation, Preventer's seemed to have tightened up their protocols, bolstering their security to block Maxwell's meddlesome digging. He complained about that, as I recall. He was stuck at the new house with nothing to do but baby his bum leg, so he just made life miserable from some poor schlubb in the computer operations office. Well, I felt a little bit like Maxwell did then, I guess. Blocked, stymied, and frustrated to hell.

Quatre was out, half-dressed, and towel-drying his hair. We took a five minute break together that I was happy to extend to fifteen before he shoved me into the bathroom for my shower. We had so little time to get ready, and I had some color touch-up treatment to do to my hair.

As soon as I was done, though, in spite of the time pressure, I dressed in sweats and walked back into the office just as another alarm was triggered. Quatre caught my eye and trotted to meet me in the office. I had to drag my eyes off his sexy-looking body dressed like a businessman, except his shirt was see-through, his belt tied instead of latched, and his tie was loose and dangling on his chest.

I wanted to bind his wrists with that tie and lick his body, for starters.

The alarm buzz drilled urgently through the mush Quatre made of my brain. This time it was on Milliardo's computer, linked to activity on his dummy web-site. I logged on knowing that there could only be one culprit, Gunter. I'd passed one of Gunter's goons the "business" card listing the porn sites, while in a club at least two weeks ago.

I logged into the maintenance section of the site to monitor the activity, and, sure enough, the fool had taken the bait on every visit. Using the number that his internet connection was broadcasting, I traced it back and came to a whole new system.

"Where's that computer?" Quatre asked.

He hovered over me. I nearly gave myself a mind-wipe with each sniff of his aftershave.

"I don't know," I said. I struggled to focus. "Ah, Maxwell and I have been wondering about the computer since he first hacked into it. Looks like the security system on that computer has to be tied to an office or some another place, but not the house as we first thought. The system we're getting into now must be Gunter's home computer."

Quatre was checking his watch. "You only have about fifteen minutes to get dressed."

I quickly sent a few codes through the network. "I hope one of us will be able to finish this when we get home."

I dressed without thinking about it, having become accustomed to business-slut wear by now. Intent on finding Maxwell to tell him what I'd discovered, I made my way back to the master bedroom, where I found Milliardo standing at the window, staring out into the street. He was wearing a pale blue, button-down shirt and a pair of khaki slacks, and he didn't look happy. I walked up behind him and cleared my throat. Since the skirmish with Yuy, things haven't been too good between him and any of us.

Even though he was gone, Yuy's aura remained.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"You know, for three days straight all you've done is sit in the office in front of those computers."

I thought he was talking to me. Maxwell slammed the door on his way out of the bathroom, eyes flashing, hair shining neatly in its braid, dressed in unforgiving black satin and wool. He looked dangerous and looking for a fight. I was grateful that his attention was wholly on Milliardo.

"We are supposed to be working, and since you are doped up on pain medicine half the day, someone has to do it."

"Yes, well, you need to learn that there is a time to work and a time to rest," Milliardo said sharply.

"Hey, you aren't my mother or my wife, so back off. I'm doing my part here. So're the others. And we have taken breaks, done stuff, only you've been missing out."

"I was speaking to Tamer. You, Scythe, are my partner, my boy."

"You wish," he snapped and stomped off, probably to the kitchen, the one place he could be alone to think.

I forgot what brought me to Milliardo's room in the first place, so I slipped away and returned to the office. I grabbed the small bag Yuy had left us, kissed it "thank you, Yuy," and slid it into my sport coat pocket. Somehow I didn't think squishing them around in my pants pockets was going to do them any good. I managed to squeeze a couple of bugs and a few small cameras into my pockets. If I could find the right places to put them, I'd be doing okay tonight.

As carelessly as I'd prepared, Milliardo was suitably impressed when he paused at the office door. He seemed to really care about our physical health and mental well-being.

"You look...spectacular, you know."

"Thanks," I said, smiling faintly. "You feel up to going tonight?"

"I have to. I'll not be doing much. Just sitting and watching, and we won't stay long."

"Hopefully."

He smoothed my hair in back where I'd missed brushing. "You are a man of many hidden talents, Trowa Barton. Never had I expected that of you. Not from what I'd seen in the past."

I smiled at him and gave him a wink. "Well, you didn't see me at my best and 'course at the time I was only fifteen."

"So young, yes...I forget." He sighed and shook his head, his own long, platinum locks shimmering. "I should check on Quatre's progress."

"I'm ready!" Quatre cried out from the front room. "Duo says I look fine for my presentation tonight."

"Yeah, time to go," Maxwell joined in. "We've got garbage to impress. Man, Tamer, you look so fuckin' hot. If you weren't taken, I'd entertain some very exciting thoughts about us for later."

"Yeah?" I grinned and looked askance to be rewarded with Quatre's beaming smile.

"Taken?" Zechs asked.

"Uh, as in one of yours, too, right?" Maxwell covered his near slip-up with his quick wit.

"Of course, I see," Zechs said with a resigned sigh.

I had poured myself into a pair of black leather pants and a vest with a pencil-striped shirt, unbuttoned, and the sports coat in linen. I looked sexy and so unlike the silent, withdrawn guy I really was that it wasn't funny. I laughed anyway, mostly from released tension, and we had an impromptu punching match, which Mill-baby broke up before either of us drew blood.

"Now, boys. No damaging the merchandise. I'm selling top of the line boy ass tonight."

That pretty much stifled all our joy. I considered loading the others with as many of the spy toys as possible, but Maxwell seemed too flaky to trust with delicate tools. Quatre, I was afraid, hadn't the expertise in planting surveillance bugs and would probably be too shell-shocked to be of any use anyway. Milliardo appeared to be in a fog of his own pain. I stood holding a few bugs, wondering what to do with them.

"What are those for?" Milliardo asked. "You have the place under surveillance already."

"Just in case," I said. I was about to tell him about the alarms earlier, when Maxwell piped up.

"Did you guys review the feed from the thermal camera to see just how many people are in the house?"

"No, I should have done that," Quatre moaned.

Our eyes met with matching shrugs. "Slipped my mind, too," I said.

Maxwell's back tightened with tension. "There's not really a place for any extra parking besides the small circular drive here in front, the garage area, and on the street. I haven't seen a single car pull up across the street. Tells me the party's elsewhere, and maybe the action is as well."

I nodded. He knew exactly what Maxwell meant. We shared the same suspicions that the place across the street was only one of Gunter's places of operation, and not the most important one. "Quatre and I were busy tracking down some alarms tonight."

"And?" Maxwell asked without slowing his pace to the front door.

"Milliardo's computer is tracking the house, but we're hacked into a computer in a different location. Gunter visited Milliardo's web sites and we tracked that computer to a different location."

"His private office," Maxwell determined, "in his real home."

"That's what we think," Quatre agreed. He hid his trembling hands beneath folded arms.

"Come on, all of you out the door," Milliardo said.

Scythe stepped up to Quatre and grabbed his head between his two hands. "Hey, loosen up. Remember, you are Sand now. You left Quatre behind at headquarters. Sand can do this, he's a worldly slut, and when you leave here, when this is all over, he stays behind. Everything he's done is over and forgotten. It doesn't stick to you."

And then Scythe kissed him. It was sloppy and hot. I opened the door and stepped outside. I understood what Scythe was doing and appreciated it, but I couldn't watch Sand's eyelids flutter close, or his moan.

It was too much like my lover's.

The others followed shortly and Milliardo locked the door behind us. We ambled across the street, keeping the pace easy on our injured leader. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, or trying to forget what he'd just seen.

"Back to what you were saying," Milliardo said, mid-street. "Preventer's researched the place thoroughly beforehand. And we know he's holding at least the one boy there."

Maxwell marched up to the door and turned around facing us, hands on his hips. He looked very perturbed as he said, "Yeah, well then, why do I suddenly feel like we're the only ones here?"

Quatre's eyebrows knitted into a frown. "I think you are right."

Milliardo shrugged and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, the man we had identified some time ago as Strom answered the door.

"Come in. Glad you could make it."

We entered the house and to say that it was not what I expected was putting it mildly. I had expected this lavish décor and expensive furnishings. That was far from what I was seeing.

"The little bit of artwork on the walls is all prints, no originals," Quatre whispered to me.

I was glad to know I wasn't the only one unimpressed with the setup. Scythe, Wind, Sand, and I, Tamer, followed Strom into the den area, where he offered us something to drink from the built-in bar. Quatre and I refused, and Mill and Duo accepted.

I looked over at Mill. "Drinking alcohol is not going to go with your medication. I don't want to go through another hospital stay, Wind, sir."

Mill opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted as another man entered the room from a side door. Duo looked at his glass, reconsidered, and set it down untouched.

"No, we mustn't be responsible for anything untoward happening to our guests. Strom, serve the gentleman and his boys sodas for now."

It was Alric Gunter. He had come in the garage entrance instead of the front door. I could do nothing but stare as he strode into the room. He had this air of confidence in him that night at the club and he still had it. He was dressed in navy slacks and a long-sleeved sky-blue dress shirt with white cuffed sleeves and a white collar. He smiled and stared at me, holding my eyes for an instant. It almost seemed as we were having a battle of wills, to see who would look away first. I wasn't good at playing this game though.

I could guarantee I'd be the first to cut my eyes and look away.

He wet his lips with his tongue. It seemed so deliberate, and it was just what I had done when I locked eyes with him at the club that night. His black hair was short but stylishly cut and his gray eyes were more prominent next to his naturally tanned skin. The one thing I noticed was that he was shorter than I thought he was. He stood about five-foot ten, with an average build. Overall, he was very good-looking.

Too bad, I thought to myself, that he was scum of the earth.

And then, his gaze moved on and he was looking at Quatre for the first time and Milliardo, but his attention there was brief. His eyes shifted, landed, and remained on Maxwell, even as he greeted Milliardo.

"Ah, at last we formally meet, I am Alric Gunter. Please call me Alric."

"I am Wind, professionally." His arm swept back to include the three of us. "I've brought three of my finest, Scythe, Tamer, and Sand."

Gunter's eyes roved over the other occupants of the room, examining each of us, but, again, lingering hungrily on Maxwell. "I saw you at a club a couple of months ago and have thought about you ever since. Imagine my surprise to find that you had moved in right across the street."

Gunter met Milliardo's steely gaze. Milliardo, I could tell, was in pain. He stepped protectively closer to Maxwell, in spite of his injured state. He seemed alarmed when Gunter moved yet closer to him.

"I assume Scythe is your...favorite?"

"He was my first. The others look up to him, but they all have leadership capabilities."

Maxwell stepped around in front of Milliardo, helping him to a chair in what I thought was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture. "I owe Wind my life, and my love."

Alric's voice chilled the room. "Being in love, though, surely does not limit your fun."

The look that flashed through Milliardo's eyes at that moment will mark my memory forever; even Yuy's glare couldn't have cut deeper. He a razor-blade smile slit his face that did not reach his eyes, and said, "Scythe is allowed to have whatever fun I feel that he needs."

Gunter's smile returned. He closed the distance between himself and Maxwell, and embraced him tightly. Maxwell forced himself to embrace him back with gritted teeth. When a few seconds after that he kissed Maxwell's cheek, I swore silently to myself that if he touched me like that, a skin peel would be in order, and if it had been Quatre trapped in the bastard's embrace, I would have hacked off the man's arms.

I liked the bloody image and thought Scythe wasn't so bad a name for me either.

My heart was pounding in my chest and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around Maxwell and Quatre and tell them they had nothing to worry about, and then get the hell out of that house and on a shuttle to L3. Instead, I felt Alric's hand at the small of my back, urging me towards the couch. I sat on the other end once he sat down, and tried to put as much space between us as possible. He beckoned Quatre to sit on his other side. To say that I was uncomfortable at this point was a huge understatement. I couldn't believe that he was coming on to us so blatantly in front of Milliardo. Alric shifted on the couch and played with the buttons on his shirt.

"I am sorry for the delay. I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

Milliardo shook his head. "No, we haven't been here long."

Alric smiled. "I admit to being deceitful in having you meet me here instead of coming straight to the party. Like I said, I have thought about you quite a lot for the past couple of weeks."

I just nodded and tried to find an interesting spot on the wall directly behind him. This guy was just disgusting the hell out of me and I wanted out. No one ever said anything about this guy being attracted to us sexually. I thought he would see us as commodities, like the art and drugs he was into, and concentrate on Milliardo's conversation. This was one thing I couldn't handle, and it was probably the one thing that could break this case apart.

I had a bad feeling that Alric had already made some big, bold plans involving us, Maxwell in particular, and I was going to love disappointing him.

"...And you brought these lovely bitches," Gunter was saying to Milliardo.

Maxwell appeared inattentive. I just scratched my head and looked around as Milliardo and Gunter conversed. Quatre and I shared knowing, commiserating looks.

"We'll head over to the party in a few minutes," Gunter said.

I turned to look at him. "That explains why there's no one else here. The party is somewhere else?"

Gunter smiled. "Smart boy. Correct. This place isn't nearly large enough. I don't live here full-time, just for some...particular business. The party you are going to tonight is where I spend most of my time."

Ah, the confirmation. My eyes met Maxwell's at the same time, thinking: "Shit! We are watching the wrong fucking house."

That certainly explained how for the past two weeks nothing had been going on. I looked down at my watch and it was seven forty-five. Maxwell had gotten cameras on the house and tracking devices on the cars. There are a few bugs outside, but with a little diversion, we could plant one under the lamp in the living room and a camera in there as well. Maxwell smiled fractionally.

He and I understood one another.

Maxwell started to wander around and Gunter tried to pull him onto his lap. "I wanted to meet with you before we left. I hope that's okay?"

Maxwell forced a smile and tried to sound excited. "I've wanted to meet you for quite a while, too. But...ah... I need to piss."

Gunter released his hand with a sigh. "Down the hall past the den—that's the room with desk and computer."

Maxwell rolled his eyes and sauntered out. I stood also and took a turn about the living room looking at the prints on the walls and giving Gunter something to look at and not notice how long Maxwell's trip to the bathroom was taking. The pictures looked like something you could go down to Wal-Mart and purchase for ten dollars. Both Quatre and Milliardo engaged the man in conversation, Quatre speaking in a highly animated style sure to attract the pervert's attention.

I had studied the living area and made up my mind on where to place the camera. As soon as I was out of Gunter's immediate sight, I took out a bug and placed it under a lamp. It would allow not only a perfect view of the room, but also a perfect view of anyone coming into the room.

I needed to place what I had left, and began roaming to the hall hoping the next room would be the office where Alric took most of his calls. I peeked in as Maxwell opened a drawer and crawled under the desk, placing bugs firmly into a hollow space, and making sure that the drawer didn't touch the bug when it was closed. We traded smiles and I walked back into the living room. I heard Mill clear his throat and I began making my way back to where they were talking.

Milliardo looked at me and smiled. "We were about to come find you."

I shrugged. "I was just wandering. You know I have a hard time sitting still, Wind."

Milliardo raised an eyebrow at my bald-faced lie. I could see myself as a couch potato with no problem. What was the truth, however, was that being in Gunter's house made me want to take up running— and leave, fast.

I studied the way the house was laid out and figured that the bedroom that Jimmy was kept in should be at the very end of the hall on the left. I pushed down the urge to ask for the bathroom, after all, we'd only been here fifteen minutes and one urgent call was enough.

Maxwell hadn't returned, and Quatre seemed traumatized on the couch, requiring me to hold Gunter's attention, something very much counter to my disposition. I took Milliardo by the hand and perched on the stuffed arm of his chair. I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders, and he surprised me by leaning against me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Milliardo.

He shrugged and explained the purpose of my question to Gunter. "I sustained a few injuries, as I told you over the phone. My boys are very concerned that I not overdo my activities."

Gunter sat across from us on the large, overstuffed couch, fondling Quatre's knee, and grinned.

"How lovely. How long have the four of you been together?"

Milliardo patted my leg. "Just a little over a year, which is a complete training cycle for boys of this quality."

I heard a car pulling up around the circular drive. Our time was nearly up. I saw Maxwell as he entered the room, and stood to meet him with a warm embrace. In his ear I whispered, "Play it cool. I'm going to have to sneak back in later to get a pill to Jimmy. Are you okay?"

Maxwell nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to have to get a few bugs and cameras from the house. I'll just have to excuse myself in a moment to get Wind some pain pills. Does the fuckhead know that Wind was hurt?"

I shrugged. "He knows about it, but not the particulars. I'll get you out."

And hopefully Gunter would buy Maxwell's excuse. I sat down and tried to make myself comfortable on the couch, while trying to draw Gunter away from Quatre. Gunter leaned over, placing a hand on my thigh and I stared at it. I felt like I was twelve years old again and cold chills rushed through my body.

Alric squeezed and laughed. "Let's go then, shall we? You can all ride with me and if you want to leave, my driver can arrange something."

"I'm ready, I guess," Maxwell said. He then looked to me with a sympathetic look and then looked to Milliardo.

Gunter stood, grabbed Maxwell's shoulders, and boldly placed a kiss on his lips. "I'm ready."

There was nothing I wanted more than to be running out of there. I stared at Milliardo. I could tell that he was tired.

"We shouldn't stay any longer than necessary tonight. You look awful," I told him.

Gunter asked, "Are you in a great deal of pain, Wind?"

"Localized, but intense at times. Should have left all the furniture moving to the boys. I have medication--"

"But did you bring it with you?" I asked.

Maxwell took his cue and ran with it. "I'll bet you forgot to bring your pain pills!"

Chapter 9

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