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"Witness Protection"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: R Warnings: Warnings: AU , yaoi, swearing (lots),
some OOC (probably), violence, drugs, sex, a naughty Duo (i.e. he
has a potty mouth and is a bit, er, slutty)…if you are wedded
to the “pure, chaste” version of Duo, he might be a bit
dark and crude for your taste…ditto for the other characters
in here…hey, Quat’s a lawyer…how much lower could he
get? Pairings: 1X2 eventually, 3X4 also eventually, (past 2X3, 6X2) A/N: I’ll apologize in advance that Zechs is, well, deceased right from the start. I like him a lot, and there’ll be mention of him…but mostly in the form of discussing/investigating his murder. Sorry. Summary: When Zechs Merquise is found murdered,
detectives Heero Yuy and Wufei Chang are tasked with the unenviable
chore of keeping the only witness to the crime alive long enough to
testify against the leader of the Oz syndicate, Treize Khushrenada. "Witness Protection" Chapter Thirty Three: Solace I hadn’t been in the tub long when I heard voices and the patter of feet, and Barton and Winner came out onto the deck, towels in hand. “We’re off to swim,” Quatre told me, eyeing my bare chest with a look I interpreted as appreciative. “Chang’s decided to accompany us as far as the dock so he can do a quick perimeter check.” “Sounds good,” I replied, settling a bit deeper into the water. “I’ve got the laptop set to make a chiming noise if any sensors are triggered; so I can monitor it from here.” “Water warm enough?” “Fine.” I gave him an impatient look. “You can go now. I like privacy as much as Chang does.” He gave an irrepressible grin, much like Duo’s. “And you say you’re not a prude.” Barton hooked an arm around his lover’s waist. “You’re a fine one to talk, Quat, when it took both Duo an’ me to get you naked in the hot tub. C’mon—let’s go swimming.” They sauntered off arm in arm, and I leaned back and closed my eyes. I don’t know if I dozed off for a bit, but when I caught the faint whisper of sound behind me, I grabbed my gun off the table beside the tub, twisting around to find Maxwell leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed casually. He was wearing nothing but tattered sweat pants, which hung alluringly off his slender hips and momentarily distracted me from wondering what had awakened him. “Jesus—,” I muttered in an exasperated huff. “Don’t sneak up on me!” I put the safety back on and set the gun on the table. He smirked almost coyly, walking over and sitting on the edge of the tub. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you—just ogle you from afar.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s why you’re out here?” “No—that’s just a perk,” he grinned, but then it faded into a sort of nervous smile. He was fiddling with the end of his braid in a gesture of uneasiness—not his usual cocky confidence. “Nightmare?” I asked simply, guessing that the close call for the orphans might have triggered another unpleasant episode. “Naw—nothin’ like that. Tro’ woke me before he and Quat left, so I wouldn’t wake up and not know where anyone was. I was gonna sketch for awhile, but I wasn’t in the mood; an’ then when I went to get a drink of water, I saw you out here and thought I’d come down and maybe talk.” “Talk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just—well—I was kind of a prick this morning. You didn’t deserve that. You were trying to be nice all of a sudden, and I just kind of took it badly.” He glanced up from under his bangs, a picture of shy uncertainty. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Well—that was unexpected. “It’s okay,” I shrugged. “Like you said, I was a bit out of character, wasn’t I?” “More like ‘in’ it,” he corrected. “For the first time since you found out about the phone call. I hope I didn’t blow it.” I shook my head. “Good.” He glanced out across the moonlit lake, obviously deep in thought. “I also wanted to thank you for having Quat bring Trowa up here. ’S not like I deserved it after screwing up the way I did. But—it meant a lot to have someone to—.” He paused uncomfortably. “Someone who knew Zechs,” he concluded in a rush. “I needed to talk about him and—and—.” “—and all you got from Chang and me was sarcasm and contempt,” I finished for him. He dropped his gaze to the water, trailing a hand in the warm, steaming liquid. “You’re cops. Wasn’t fair of me to expect you to care about a drug lord’s death…to care about me…” I silenced him by catching his hand and gently tangling my fingers with his. “You don’t make it easy, Maxwell,” I said quietly, running my thumb across the back of his hand in a caress. “I know,” he breathed quietly, his gaze fixed on our hands. Was he trembling? I could have sworn I felt a tremor in the slim flingers. Then he looked up from under his bangs. “Do I make it hard?” he asked with an irrepressible smirk. I hesitated in replying, and he immediately looked contrite. “There I go, hiding behind sex again, huh?” “It seems to be a defense mechanism for you,” I noted. “But you’ve got to let that guard down once in a while. You have to let people in if you want to have any chance of getting to know them—or letting them know you.” “Where I come from, y’ don’t want cops knowing anything about you at all,” he told me frankly. “And after what happened to the Reapers, I pretty much decided all cops were cut from the same cloth.” He looked me squarely in the eyes. “I was wrong.” “I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied with equal honesty. He gave a shy nod, his gaze dropping back to our hands, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what my intentions were—why I was suddenly making a physical gesture. “Yuy—?” A door slammed in the front of the house, and Chang called out a greeting, letting me know his security survey was complete. Duo started to pull his hand away, but I kept a firm grip on it, looking up at him sternly. “We’ll finish this later.” He raised an eyebrow, his lips parting in a silent question. “Finish what?” he was asking as plain as day. “Finish the conversation? The touch? Or more?” “I want to talk for a change, instead of fighting,” I clarified, standing up and finally letting go of his hand after a small, affectionate squeeze. “Oh. Okay.” I could feel his eyes on me as I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist, just as Chang came strolling out onto the deck. “My turn in the tub?” asked my partner. “It’s all yours.” Duo eyed him rather speculatively, and Wufei shook his head. “No, Maxwell, you may not hang around and watch.” “Have it your way, Wuffers,” Duo sniffed disdainfully. “I’ll just go on up to bed with Yuy then.” “W-with—?” I sputtered, caught off guard by his open flirting in front of Wufei again. Chang rolled his eyes, giving me a sort of conspiratorial and long-suffering glance. “It’s your funeral when he decides he’s tired of your advances,” he told Maxwell. Shaking his head in mock despair, he added, “Don’t ask me to help you hide any more bodies, Yuy.” “Ha…ha…” I drawled—unimpressed with his humor, but vastly relieved that Chang was treating Duo’s flirtation as harmless fun. Then I realized Duo was standing by the door looking expectantly at me…and that we were about to walk up those stairs together to the same bedroom. My mind turned to complete mush. Duo held out a hand in a teasing gesture, wiggling his fingers in invitation. When my cell phone rang, I jumped, nearly knocking it into the tub as I fumbled to grab it off the table. “Yuy here!” I snapped breathlessly, relieved by the interruption. “I’ve got bad news,” came Captain Po’s blunt, no-nonsense voice. “Nice to hear from you, too,” I muttered sarcastically. “I’m serious,” she said. “A lot happened today—none of it good.” “Let me guess…the orphanage Maxwell volunteered at got blown up.” “So you’ve seen the news.” Duo’s head tilted curiously in my direction as he listened to my half of the conversation. “Don’t worry,” I told the Captain. “No one was in the building at the time of the explosion.” “How’d you know that?” “Inside information. And I’d like you to keep it quiet, if you can. Just tell the press that luckily the kids were gone for the day.” “I can do that. But—where were they?” “Safe,” I said simply. “And the less you share with the press, the safer they’ll stay.” I gestured to the stairs with my head, covering the receiver for a moment. “Go on up to bed, Duo,” I said quietly. “I’ll be there in a bit.” He smiled slyly, though it looked like it was for Wufei’s benefit. “Tuck me in?” he asked sweetly. “You wish,” I shot back, trying to sound like I was brushing him off. It didn’t fool him for a minute, though I hoped it might at least fool Chang. “I like dreamin’,” he smirked, heading for the stairs. Chang followed him. “I’m going to find those swimming trunks Winner mentioned earlier,” he told me. “And to make sure Maxwell really goes to bed and doesn’t try slipping back down here to bother me.” I nodded and resumed my talk with the Captain. “Honestly, sir. Khushrenada’s stooped to striking at orphans. Can’t you get more dirt on him? Can we hurry this along so Duo can have a life?” “Duo?” “M-Maxwell,” I corrected myself hastily. “With Winner and Barton here, it’s gotten a bit—informal, sir.” “So it seems.” She paused for a moment, and I could practically hear her formulating her next thought. “Anyhow, we’ve got bigger problems than keeping a lid on the orphanage explosion. The FBI showed up at my door today. Some fisherman pulled Otto’s body out of the river last week, and apparently Trant ran to the Feds for protection. He said Une tried to kill him along with his fellow thug, to keep them quiet about Merquise’s murder.” Tying up loose ends, no doubt. Then a more important thought occurred to me. “We’ve got another witness?” I asked, my heart leaping with hope. Maybe Duo wouldn’t have to testify all alone—and maybe he wouldn’t end up in relocation afterwards—not if there was another scapegoat for Khushrenada to blame. “We have not got another witness. The Feds have him. And they’re trying to pull rank on us for jurisdiction in this case.” “What does that mean?” “It means if they succeed, they’ll make us turn Maxwell over to them. They’ll use his testimony to back up Trant’s.” Wait—turn Duo over to the people he said were on Khushrenada’s payroll? Not likely! “They can’t do that!” I insisted. “Not yet,” she sighed. “We’re fighting for jurisdiction on Merquise’s murder. It wasn’t a federal crime. But—well—Trant knows a lot about Khushrenada’s drug dealings and other killings. The Feds want to make full use of that knowledge.” She paused long enough to begin to worry me. “Captain?” “Here’s what I want you to do, Yuy. Hide Maxwell. Don’t call me. Don’t tell me anything. Obviously if the FBI is involved, even our department lines can’t be considered secure. Plus, that way I can honestly say I don’t know where you are.” “For how long?” I asked breathlessly, my gaze wandering to the stairs Duo had recently climbed. Wufei was descending those same stairs, clad in a robe which I guessed covered the swimsuit he was wearing. “When you read about the trial starting, you’ll know it’s time to come in.” “Jesus fucking Christ!” She was talking about cutting off all support—leaving us literally on our own—out of the information loop and more or less hung out to dry. Chang looked at me with a frown, catching on to the fact that I didn’t like what I was hearing. And he paused, leaning on the stair railing to wait for me to elaborate. “If you want out of this assignment,” the Captain offered, “now’s the time.” “And if we did, what would you do? Send other officers? Give Duo to the FBI? What?” I demanded. Wufei’s eyes widened in confusion, and he gave a slight shake of his head. “No thanks, Captain,” I said firmly, not waiting for her answer. “Chang and I have kept him alive this long; we’re in it for the long haul.” “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she said soothingly. “If things really fall to pieces, I’ll get word to you—somehow. Just, for now, lay low?” “Like we have a choice?” I asked bitterly. “It’ll be okay, Yuy, I swear. Po out.” “Yeah, whatever.” I figured saying “fuck off” to my boss would only make things worse. Chang read the expression on my face like an open book, and scowled at what he saw. “What did she say?” he demanded. “Why were you talking about turning Maxwell over to the FBI?” “The FBI has Trant,” I told him. “Apparently an attempt was made on his life, and he ran to them for protection. The trouble is, they don’t have jurisdiction in the Merquise case, and they want it.” “Maxwell was afraid of the FBI,” Chang recalled. “He said Merquise told him Khushrenada had inside men there—and I’m ready to believe him.” He shook his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not handing him over to the Feds—no matter what Po says.” “I agree,” I said flatly. But I gave my partner a puzzled look nonetheless; his sudden concern for Duo was unexpected. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring back at me. “Yes, I give a damn what happens to him. Happy?” “Deliriously,” I drawled, managing a crooked smile. Then I shook my head and dredged up the rest of the conversation with Po to tell Chang about. He was no more pleased than I had been at being told we were essentially on our own until things were resolved with the FBI. But he pointed out we’d been more or less alone since we left the precinct. And we’d managed just fine. His calm reassurance soothed my nerves, and when he headed out to the hot tub, I went upstairs to catch a few hours of sleep. I figured it had been long enough that Duo would already be asleep, and I wouldn’t have to tell him about the worrisome conversation. I got lucky in that he was, indeed, asleep—curled up among his blankets and hugging a pillow to his chest. Once again I was struck by how innocent and childlike he looked when he was sleeping. And this time I was also overwhelmed with a fierce desire to protect him from those who would do him harm. I’d seen the side of him that marveled at new sights and sounds—that insisted on stopping to see a sunrise—and I was absolutely captivated by it. I knew right then that I’d do anything for him—anything at all. With a painful sigh, I went to my own cold, empty bed, several feet from his, got rid of my towel and wet boxers and put on dry ones and a tee shirt before sliding under the covers. But I allowed myself the luxury of falling asleep watching the reassuring rise and fall of his chest, and the soft, peaceful expression on his face.
When my eyes blinked open again, it was still dark, and it took me a moment to realize what had awakened me. Sure enough, Duo was having another nightmare. I could hear the distressed noises—groans and the rustle of sheets being kicked aside. I was out of my bed in a heartbeat, crossing to stand beside his. But I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He was tossing restlessly, whimpering and crying out in his sleep, hands clenched on the comforter. “No…please. Please don’t…” His struggles grew more frantic, and I started to reach for him, only to recall Trowa’s warning that his switchblade would be tucked under the pillow. “Hey, Maxwell? Y’okay?” I asked. Yes, it was a colossally stupid question. Clearly he wasn’t “okay,” but I was hoping to rouse him from whatever nightmare held him in its grip. “Maxwell!” He gasped, his hands releasing the blanket and reaching out in a desperate gesture. “Don’t! God—no! Not him! Please—I’ll do anything. Just don’t—.” “Duo!” This time I did reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. He immediately rolled to the side, one arm lashing out in panic and sweeping the pillow off the bed along with the switchblade that had been tucked under it. As the weapon clattered to the floor, I went ahead and grabbed him by both shoulders. “C’mon, Duo. Wake up!” I ordered, giving a little shake. He jerked sharply, struggling for a minute, until the indigo eyes shot open and took in the identity of the person holding him. “Heero—.” And then his arms slid around me in a desperately tight embrace, and he released a sobbing breath. “You’re alive—.” He was shaking like a leaf, drawing deep, shuddering breaths as he clung to me, and I realized his back was damp with sweat. The last time I’d seen that sheen of moisture on the pale skin had been on the floor of the cabin, and I felt a twinge of guilt at the rush of warmth it brought to my groin. “Shh,” I soothed, letting him cling—returning the embrace, and rubbing gently on his back. “It’s okay. Just a nightmare,” I murmured. Trowa’s words echoed in my head. Comfort him. I thought maybe I could do that much. “You were dead,” he gasped out, his voice ragged. “Fuck, just like Zechs. Khushrenada was there, with a gun—.” “I’m not dead,” I assured him, tightening my grip. “—and there was blood everywhere—.” “Duo, I’m not dead.” “—your eyes—.” He pulled back and looked up at my face, raising a hand to my cheek and stroking a thumb across it. “Not dead,” he echoed in a whisper, color beginning to return to his pale skin. “Not dead,” I repeated. And before I realized what I was doing, I leaned in to press a warm, firm kiss to his lips. “Not dead,” I mumbled into his mouth as he opened it and let me slide my tongue inside in a teasing, caressing, increasingly heated kiss. His fingers clutched at my shirt, fisting the material over my shoulder blades as he pressed even closer, moaning into the kiss. I suddenly remembered him talking about using sex to forget his fears, and for comfort. I didn’t want to be just a warm body for him to hang onto; so I started to pull back. “No, please,” he whispered, tightening his grip. “Don’t.” “It’s not me you want,” I murmured into his ear, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of his hair—his skin. “It is,” he insisted, his breath hot against my neck. “It’s you. Wanted you for so long now—since the first time I saw you. I need you—want you—.” I noticed “love you” didn’t follow; but then, did I really expect it to? “I need to know you’re real,” he continued, his body molded against mine, “—that you’re alive. That it didn’t happen like I dreamed it did. Don’t leave me alone. Please, Heero.” God, why did I have it so bad for him? That simple plea was just impossible to resist. He was so desperate—so lost—and I couldn’t make myself pull away. “You’re not alone,” I told him brushing the softest of kisses over his lips. “Not tonight.” And he wasn’t. It was a far cry from the frantic, rushed sex we’d had on the floor of the last safe house. Instead of being aggressive and hungry, he seemed to want to let me take over. He was almost hesitant, responding to my touch, but not pushing me to hurry. He let me keep my kisses tender, teasing, rather than demanding; in fact, it was like making love to a totally different person. It almost felt like it—meant something. And I know it did—to me. I didn’t question where he’d gotten the supplies when he pressed them into my hand. I didn’t want to think of Barton bringing them, and what he might have been planning to do with them. I didn’t want to think of Barton at all—and I didn’t want Duo to either. So I slipped out of my tee shirt and boxers, and concentrated on touching every part of him that I could—as if I was erasing any touches that had gone before. I slid my hands down the lean chest, memorizing each curve of muscle and rib; and I traced the same trail with my lips and tongue, glorying in the power I seemed to have over such a beautiful and feral creature. He arched into my touch, whispered my name in breathy groans and gasps, and followed me with those deep eyes as if afraid to let me out of his sight. And I realized as I explored every inch of his body, that back at the cabin when we’d had sex on the floor, he’d done the same thing—watched me—kept his eyes locked on mine even in the heat of passion. He hadn’t just been fucking a faceless person—he’d been making love to me; watching the play of emotions across my face—watching the effect he had on me. It had never been just a convenient fuck for him, no matter how hard he’d tried to pass it off as one later. You don’t caress someone’s face with a gaze if they mean nothing to you. The realization that he’d felt something deeper than lust even then, made my breath catch and the heat in my groin increase tenfold. God, I wanted him! And I wanted him to know it. So I went even slower, kissing along his hip—his thigh—sliding a tongue teasingly down the crack of his ass. I was rewarded with a gasp and a whimper—a tremor running throughout his body. Smiling against his skin, I kept going—tasting—stroking—slipping a hand around to knead his ass and caress his entrance. The shiver I got in response was even more pronounced, as his breath caught and a deep moan escaped his lips. I expected him to make demands—to urge me to fuck him, or curse me for taking too long—but instead he took a harsh, choked breath and tangled a hand in my hair, fingers shaking. I hesitated, wondering if he was okay, and I swear he practically whimpered—so I reached for the lube and quickly coated my fingers, taking just long enough sliding the first one in that he bucked against my hand to hurry it along. But I didn’t let him; I made prepping him into an exercise in restraint, tormenting myself as much as him. I wanted him so badly—wanted to just fuck him through the mattress until we both screamed our release. But at the same time, this was too important to make it into just a quick sexual romp. So I varied my pace, took my time adding a second and then third finger, and put on the condom slowly and carefully, afraid my own desire would make me come just from that light touch. But it didn’t, and when I had Duo quivering with need, nearly sobbing for more, I thrust into him with all the longing and gentleness I possessed. I wanted to make it mean as much to him as it did to me. And this time, instead of setting a wild, fevered pace, he waited for me—watched me—and smiled and moaned when I finally moved inside him. “Alive,” he whispered, smiling and stroking my face as I proved how alive I was by sinking even deeper into his body. And even though he was the one marveling at my life, I was stunned with the realization that I had indeed never felt more alive than I did at that moment. It was—incredible. Of course it couldn’t last forever. As much as I wanted to drown in the pleasure of his body for the rest of my life, I couldn’t control the need for release. I’d prolonged it so much already. And after the slowest, sweetest lovemaking of my life…after bringing him to a gasping, writhing orgasm…I finally succumbed. Murmuring his name reverently, I let go of restraint, thrust deep, and just clung to him in the throes of my release. And as I did, I heard a whispered “God, ’Ro—thank you.” I didn’t reply—merely buried my head against his shoulder, kissing any flesh I could reach and fighting back tears. It was fucking beautiful. Right at that moment, I wouldn’t have traded places with anyone in the world. He fell asleep within minutes, still entwined with me, still clinging desperately, as if afraid of losing me. And who was I to argue? I wanted to be there just as much as he wanted me there. I wanted it so much I couldn’t even rouse myself to go lock the door. I was almost asleep when I saw the door open a crack, and my first thought was that Chang was about to walk in and find me in Duo’s bed. But then a familiar slim figure paused just outside the opening, a shaft of light from the hallway fell across the bed, and green eyes met mine. Barton didn’t say a word. But a sort of wistful smile touched his lips, and he sighed and gave a little nod before closing the door gently. I think he even reached in and turned the lock first. But what really struck me was that I hadn’t seen jealousy in those eyes. None at all. That convinced me more than anything that he truly cared about Duo—that his ex-lover’s happiness meant more to him than any petty rivalry. My respect for him doubled in that moment. Of course, after that instant of panic when I hadn’t known who was opening the door, I didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night. Instead I lay there trying to figure out what would happen tomorrow. How was I supposed to act around Duo? I couldn’t very well be open about our relationship in front of Wufei. And was it even a relationship at all? Duo had acknowledged that all we had was here and now—that it was a moment in time, and eventually would have to end. So did he expect me to back off? Or did he think we could continue to steal moments in dark corners and quiet rooms? Sooner or later, Chang would catch on. And then it would be all up for grabs. He could report me to Captain Po and have me pulled from the case—or even brought up on charges. Fraternizing with a witness was against so many regulations it could end my career in a heartbeat. But would Chang do that to me? We’d worked together for years—been casual friends as well as colleagues. And I felt we’d grown closer of late, and that he might even be able to handle finding out I was gay, eventually. But this? Could he deal with this? I looked at the chestnut head nestled against my shoulder,
feeling the soft breath across my chest and the warm arm wrapped around
me. It was worth the risk, I decided. If all I had with Duo was the
here and now, I’d have to take a chance and hope that Wufei never
caught us. Because I damn sure knew I needed every moment—every
instant I could get with Duo. After he moved into the relocation program,
I didn’t want to feel like I’d wasted any more time than
I had to.
tbc... |
