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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 ofcertain events. A/N: This fits with chapter fifteen of Witness. " Diary of a Protected Witness"
I woke up to a paling sky, and realized that the strange pink glow on the horizon was the pending sunrise. I’d never seen the sun come up over anything besides skyscrapers. Even in Zechs’ lavish penthouse, the sun had still had to climb above a concrete jungle to light up the landscape. But Chang was in full-on “prick” mode that morning, and told me there was just no need to stop to see it. He said I could look out the window. I tried everything—warning him that if my bladder ruptured and I died a horrible death, he’d be out one witness. But he wasn’t gonna budge. Drama queen, indeed! If I was a drama queen, he was the asshole with the biggest stick in the world up his ass—and I told him so. “Pull over, Chang,” said a cool, uncompromising voice. Goddamn! Heero to the rescue again! I’d have kissed him for that, if he wouldn’t have knocked my lights out. Instead I bounded out of the car and ran to a little knoll to watch the sun clear the mountaintops. It was—awesome. Kind of a religious experience, if you wanna look at it that way. There was a definite feeling of being part of some great cosmic picture when I stood there and let the first rays wash my face with their light. I wished Zechs could’ve seen it with me. Okay—I knew he’d seen sunrises like that before, even if I hadn’t. He’d told me about vacations when he was a kid being raised by a father who came from some kind of royalty or something. They’d had a country estate in the hills of some far-off land, and he told me all about the beautiful views and the incredible sunrises and sunsets. But this was the first one I really got to see in person. And it was way more spectacular than Zechs had described. Just the way the valley lit up and the mist started to rise and dissipate—it was like a dreamscape. It almost didn’t look real. At least not to a street kid like me. Yuy had no idea how grateful I was for that one moment. But the thanks I said to him and his asshole partner was truly heartfelt. I enjoyed that sunrise more than they’d ever know—logging it away among the treasured moments in my memory. Yeah, I was a loud-mouthed, attitudinal punk—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate beauty when I saw it. Speaking of beauty—I’d have liked to see Yuy’s eyes in that sunrise—preferably after a night of fucking his brains out. He had some very lovely eyes, that damned cop. Eyes I hadn’t shaken from my memory after three long years. I guess I was still hoping that at some point while the three of us were holed up in hiding, I might have a chance at a closer look. It’d be nice to see how those eyes looked when they weren’t filled with contempt or coldness. And what the fuck was I doing daydreaming about shit like that anyway? I shook myself out of those wasted daydreams when we finally pulled into a restaurant for breakfast. And then—hot damn if we didn’t stumble across the coolest animals I think I’d ever seen! Llamas. At least that’s what my anal escorts said they were. “Careful, Maxwell. They spit.” “Why’d you warn him, Chang? It would’ve been hilarious.” Great—Yuy had a sense of humor after all—a sadistic one. “If you piss ‘em off, they spit.” “Kinda like me,” I pointed out, giving Yuy a knowing smirk. Yeah, that wiped the smile right off his face. One point for Maxwell! Of course, I stopped keeping score a minute later, when a freckle-faced kid made me look like the biggest chicken on the planet. She strolled right up to the llamas like she was totally sure of herself, while I nervously followed, afraid to make a wrong move. And she chided and teased me into hand-feeding them—which turned out to be a cool thing after all. It also made me feel braver than the two detectives who hung back and watched from a safe distance. At least, it was safe until the girl went for more grain, and Chang decided I’d dawdled long enough—and tried dragging me away from my hungry new friends. Yeah—my next entry should read “Dear Diary—Today I laughed so hard I fuckin’ died!” It was kind of a blur—the llamas getting agitated, and the girl yelling for us to duck—but I hit the dirt and then looked up just in time to see a big ol’ wad of spit and green stomach goop nail Wuffers right in the side of the head. Oh God! I really thought I was gonna die for a few minutes there. I mean I honestly laughed so hard, I couldn’t suck any air in. Seriously! I mean, God! It was so funny I couldn’t breathe. I ended up curled on my side, clutching my stomach and trying to draw a much-needed gulp of air in between guffaws. And in case you’ve never been there—when every muscle in your body is knotted up around the most gut-busting laughter you’ve ever known—you really can’t breathe in. Of course, I obviously did eventually manage to gasp in some air, or I wouldn’t have been able to write this shit down. But fuck! It was touch an’ go for awhile. I would have given everything I owned, including my sleek black motorcycle, for a picture of Wufei at that moment. Gladly. But it’ll just have to linger in my mind’s eye as something that totally eclipsed the image of a dazzling sunrise, and very nearly a pair of intense blue eyes. Even my “made ya look” quip didn’t quite measure up to the sheer perfection of the moment the glob of spit hit Chang’s head. It made my top ten list of memories, right behind having sex on a horse statue in a public park. Okay. Maybe before it. But still behind Yuy’s eyes, dammit! So sue me. I got a thing for blue eyes. Zechs’ had been like ice—a light, frosty crystalline blue that could either warn of impending doom, or convey a world of passion. Yuy’s—well, they were such a deep blue they looked like velvet. And even when they were filled with scorn, there was a smoldering in their depths that spoke of hidden desires and dreams. I guess “dreamy” was a good word for describing eyes like those, even if it sounds totally girly to say it. “Oh he’s got such dreamy eyes,” just sounds like a chick comment. Really. So I won’t even say it—but I will admit, it crossed my mind. Ah well. Between Wufei’s llama encounter, and the taste of the homemade bread they served at the tiny restaurant, the morning took a definite upswing. I could almost have enjoyed the delicious meal, if I hadn’t had to share it with cops. After breakfast, we got back on the road, with some freshly baked bread and doughnuts I talked the guys into buying—for sustenance. And by noontime, we reached the log cabin—aka Stalag Yuy and Chang. Yes, they were determined to run the place like a fuckin’ prison camp, a fact which became very clear to me the moment I wiped the sleep from my eyes and they lit on the gleaming Harley-Davidson motorcycle in the spare parking place of the oversized garage. It damned near gave me a hard-on, it was that gorgeous, and on the way inside, I paused to drool over the shining chrome on the sexy vintage bike. “Don’t even think about it, Maxwell,” Chang hissed in my ear. “You will march your ass inside and not leave this place until it’s time for you to testify.” “Who died and made you God?” I challenged. “Zechs Merquise,” he sneered. “His death, and your witnessing of it has put Yuy and me in the unenviable position of playing God over you until we hand you over to the District Attorney.” Way to go, asshole—mention my dead lover again. I strode quickly away from him, ending up right behind Yuy as he entered the lavish kitchen in Quatre’s “rustic getaway.” Rustic my ass. It was about as rustic as Buckingham Palace. “Ve-rry nice. I could get comfy here.” Yeah—that notion was quickly dispelled as Chang jumped my shit again—spouting out bullshit about us being guests and behaving ourselves and not messing anything up. Fucking killjoy. I cheered myself up by discovering that we had cable, and snagging the remote before either of my dickhead babysitters got to it. And then I cheered myself up more by going out and ogling that Harley again. It was a lean, sexy machine—and I knew how good I’d look on it, and how good it’d feel between my legs. Can you say “sexual innuendo?” I stroked the custom-painted gas tank lovingly. “Aw, baby—you and I are just made for each other, aren’t we?” If a hot vintage bike was all I could have between my
legs in the foreseeable future, well, I’d take what I could get.
And if Yuy and Chang didn’t back the fuck off and give me room
to breathe, they were gonna find out that Duo Maxwell wasn’t
as easy to cage as they thought. tbc... |
