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"Diary of a Protected Witness"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don’t own any part of Gundam
Wing or the characters, more’s the pity. This is for fun...no
profit involved. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU , yaoi, swearing (lots), some OOC
(probably), violence, drugs, sex, Pairings: 1X2X1, 3X4, 5XC, (past 2X3X2, 6X2) Summary: Ever wonder what was running through Duo's mind at certain points in"Witness Protection?" Here are snippets of his point of view...a companionfic, that will not rehash the entire plot, but offer a new perspective of certain events. A/N: This fits with chapters thirteen through fourteen of Witness.
" Diary of a Protected Witness" Chapter Seven: Lows and Highs I was almost to the highway when Yuy caught me—and in retrospect, I’m sorry I didn’t swing at him once I realized who he was. The fucker cuffed me! He fuckin’ handcuffed me. He deserved the kick to the knee and more, but when he wrenched my arms up behind me, it kinda took the fight right out of me. Nothin’ like the risk of a broken arm to make ya back off, is there? And there we were, sitting in that car, while I fumed about his asshole partner throwing Zechs’ death in my face, and Yuy was about as sympathetic as a brick, threatening to haul me back to Khushrenada personally if I didn’t behave. “Go ahead. It’d save us all a lot of trouble.” And I believed it would. I had a feeling sooner or later, Khushrenada would succeed in silencing me, no matter what the cops did. “Don’t tempt me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, I pictured a whole slew of ways to tempt a man—even one made of ice. And, well—I always had loved a challenge. “You’d like it if I did.” And from there, I just ran with it. “Fuck you clear into next week—.” “M-maxwell—.” His voice broke and I went for the kill. “You ever kissed a guy…detective?” Pure panic flashed across his face, and I felt my own pulse speed up in response. He couldn’t answer me—he knew I could tell he wanted to kiss me—wanted to touch. “Why don’t you let me show you just how good I could make you feel? Kiss you, an’ lick you…suck you, an’ fuck you…” I’d once made Zechs totally lose it by saying exactly those words. He wasn’t the only one who’d learned how to use his voice and his words to evoke a physical response. The mutual heat being generated between me an’ Yuy already had the windows fogging up—and given a few more minutes, I bet I could’ve made him come in his pants. But then, his partner got back in time to save him a world of embarrassment. When Chang interrupted, I kind of felt like someone threw cold water on my fire. Except it was still smoldering underneath. Did I say Yuy wanted? Well—so did I. I wanted him. And I wasn’t afraid to admit it. The guy was fuckin’ hot. And it was pretty obvious he swung my way, whether he wanted to face the fact or not. It was only a matter of time until I got him alone, without the watchful eyes of Chang following our every move. And when I did—I really wanted to demonstrate everything I’d suggested. Hey—it was something to do. Considering I could be holed up with two anal-retentive cops for weeks or even months, I really needed a diversion. And seriously, I think Yuy needed to get laid. Badly. Or maybe very, very well. Yeah. That was the ticket! He needed release in a really big way—something to break through the hard shell and give him an outlet for all those bottled up passions that danced just under the surface of those midnight blue eyes. Was I a fuckin’ poet, or what? Jeeze, I think Zechs rubbed off on me more than I realized. Now he was a poet. The man could make words sound like music—the way they dropped off his lips. And he was always throwing in words like “passion” and “essence” and “ebullient.” I wasn’t even sure what that last one meant, when he used it to describe me. My response had been to ask if it had something to do with bullshit. He’d laughed so hard he nearly keeled over. The jackass. And then he explained it to me. Him and his freakin’ vocabulary lessons. And yet—it was fun, learning new things—like the cooking. Zechs was really good for me in a lot of ways, and he really helped me improve myself. Of course, there was a lot of room for improvement. And no, he wasn’t condescending about it, or I’d’ve socked him one, right in the face. Nobody talked down to me and got away with it. But Zechs was such a smooth-talker that he could show me a gap in my education so big you could drive a tractor trailer through, and yet not ridicule me for it. He—God, I fuckin’ missed him!
Anyhow—to get back to the mess I was in since losing him—once I got Yuy to let me out of those damned cuffs, I had to listen to a totally condescending lecture from both of my jailors, about hiding the braid and not going anywhere alone, and not talking to strangers. I hadda bite my tongue to keep from tellin’ ‘em they should be teaching kindergarten instead of solving crimes. Fucking mother hens, both of ‘em. It became pretty clear, though, that the “no talking to strangers” rule was gonna be pointless, as we drove further and further from civilization. And when they told me we were going to be hiding out in some remote cabin in the woods, I have to admit, I got a little nervous. I was a city boy, remember? “Are you saying there are bears?” Fuck Chang and his warped sense of humor—the bastard started in about wolves and shit. Ya wonder why I had to light up a joint to calm myself down? Well, duh! Of course, my first toke was destined to be my last (heh, Zechs would’ve loved hearin’ me use the word “destined”). Chang threw my whole fuckin’ stash out on the side of the road. But that’s okay—because in compensation, I got hold of his first name. Woofy. And I quickly learned that he hated hearing it mispronounced—so tormenting him with its misuse became my new favorite pastime on the road trip from Hell. Heh, heh. Payback’s a bitch, Chang-baby! We got into a whole discussion of homophobes after that, and I found out Quatre was eyeballin’ my ass that night at the precinct—a fact I was so gonna find a way to use against him. I also figured out that Chang didn’t know his partner was gay, and that Yuy wanted to keep it that way—something else to log away for future use. And then I found out my dream-cop’s first name. Heero. Fuck. My hero, Heero. Ya wanna talk about destiny? Fate? Kismet? All of the above? You tell me. Did it not seem perfect that my protector, my white knight, and my guardian had a name like Heero? Of course, he pointed out how suitable my name was as well. Duo. Yeah, it was very, very appropriate. I knew that much about myself—that I ran from one extreme to another—that I had a tendency to be two sides of a coin. I just hadn’t expected a cop to pick up on it so quickly. Made me think maybe I’d underestimated Yuy just a bit. He was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for. And if I wanted to keep that little bit of upper hand I’d gained with my blatant sexual offer that threw him so far off balance, I’d have to watch my step. I pretended to sleep until our next rest stop, and then chided Chang for being reluctant to follow me to the men’s room. I mean, shit—I wasn’t that bad, was I? “Jesus, Wuffers, I don’t bite—much.” Okay, maybe I was that bad. I got a blush from Yuy, anyway, and a warning to behave myself. Sure I could. I just chose not to, most of the time. But then, when I got back to the car and settled in, resigned to a few more hours of boredom, my fuckin’ white knight had to go and get all gallant on me. He gave me a portable cd player—complete with headset. I could listen to whatever I wanted, and shut out the irritating cop-talk and road noise, without having to fight Chang tooth and nail for each musical selection I made. Why’d he go and do something thoughtful like that, anyway? He made some crack about my music, and how it’d give Chang and him a break from it—but I saw his expression when I said “thanks.” He looked pleased. Not just relieved at having found a solution—but genuinely happy about it. Could he be developing a little soft spot for me, I wondered? Falling for the ol’ Maxwell charm? Or maybe I was just delusional. That was a lot more likely. Apparently my music was so very repugnant to him that finding a way to avoid being subjected to it absolutely made his goddamned day. Part of me wanted to think that little glimmer in those unforgettable eyes was because he’d enjoyed doing something nice for me—but then the part that had been knocked on its ass by cops too many times to count, spoke up and reminded me of what he was, and that anything he did was motivated by his mission—not by any dawning affection for me. Fuckin’ cop.
tbc... |
