Author:  Kit Ecco

Date:  9-12-02

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Full Description:

The year is AC 198, with the end of the war the Gundam pilots are being given a chance at a "Normal" life. However, problems

have a way of popping up at the worst time... namely, their Freshman year of college. Emotions are running rampant and the

pressure is building from every side so it's no wonder that Duo is acting a little more oddly than usual. Then again… no one knew

he was addicted to something either...

Mkay… description totally sucks so…. you might want to read the story for a better idea of the plot line.

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Disclaimers Ahead!

I don't own any part of Gundam Wing and do not have permission of the true owners (Koichi Tokita, Hajime Yadate, and Yoshiyuki

Tomino… as well as Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, and whomever else I just plain don't know about). I have simply taken the wonderful world

of GW and twisted it with my own thoughts and ideas. So yadda yadda yadda… please don't sue.

You'd only get a half eaten bag of Doritos™.

Warning!

The following fic has been Rated W for "Whatever the Fuck I Want to Put in Here"

This basically means that my fic could range anywhere from a PG to an R or so

Whenever I feel like it so be warned!

For Example:

~Shounen ai with the possibility of yaoi/lemons, or whatever, in the future…

~Violence…

~Cursing whenever it fits…

~Uh… other mature themes later on??

R e a d a n d R e v i e w!

c((,^p   Kit

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 Prologue

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A slim figure watched silently from within the shadows as, person by person, the auditions began. Only Chief knew who he was;

why he remained in the shadows- never moving, never speaking. Needless to say, there were countless rumors about this silent man.

Across the room a young girl, using the name Genevieve, observed the watcher. She was no more than thirteen - though she looked

several years older. Trying out for a p-… a "film" like this hadn't really been on the top of her list of "Things to Do Today"… but

money was tight. She couldn't last forever on handouts from nice old ladies. Her curious brown eyes took in every detail about the

person, but she couldn't say for sure if they were a man or a woman. They appeared slender and lithe, even through the black trench

coat tied loosely about their waist; and although their body held a certain indescribable feminine quality… the watcher seemed in no

way fragile, on the contrary, people tended to avoid this person's attention. There seemed to be a dangerous aura surrounding her..

him.. whoever this person was.

She nudged a young man sitting beside her, perhaps a few years older than she, "Hey… who's that?" The boy looked her over

grinning confidently. "Why do ya' wanna' know when ya' got th' best lookin' guy in th' whole joint right 'ere?" he quirked an eyebrow

flirtatiously. "Name's TJ. An' yer..?" Gene rolled her eyes, "Not interested, so just tell me who they are." TJ gave a short chuckle of

approval and glanced over at where she had nodded then looked back at her in astonishment. "Y-ya don't know who that is?? Ya'

gotta' be real new 'round 'ere." He whispered nervously, keeping his eyes lowered away from the figure.

"Yeah, so? Who is it? Is that a guy or a girl anyway?"

He shook his head, a hint of fear flickering behind his macho front.

"Oh come on!" she whispered fiercely, "Who is that?? And why the hell are they wearing all that … stuff… at this time of the year?"

"Shhh! Shut up already! Yer gonna' get 'is attention if ya' keep talkin' that loud! Look, jus'… don't make 'im look over 'ere. I'll tell

ya' wot I know."

Gene nodded encouragingly. "Go on then…"

TJ stole a quick glance around. Satisfied that no one was listening in he leaned a little closer. "Nobody's real sure 'bout that one.. mos'

o' us agree that 'e's a guy though. Nobody even knows why 'e wears that gettup. Like I said… mos' o' us figure 'e's either hidin'

'cause 'e's wanted, or hidin' 'cause he's been disfiggered in some way." He looked up self-conciously. "All's I know 's I don't wanna'

be picked by 'im. 'E sits there.. watchin'… never says nuthin' t' nobody… just-" the color drained from his face. "E's choosin'…"

Across the room, in the shadows, the figure had moved. Beside him, now that she could call the person a "him", stood the Chief. A

slender black-gloved hand raised once, pointing at a buxom woman in her early twenties. Chief nodded, said … something… and

started to move toward the woman when the arm raised again. He stopped, obviously startled. Had the shadowy figure never chosen

more than one before? She turned to ask TJ but he had scooted to the far end of the bench, as far as he could get from her without

drawing even more attention. Gene's eyes widened as everything started to click. She turned slowly, seeing the small, solid, man known

as Chief walking toward her.

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"…You sure? The babe I get but… this other one looks young… like a kid."

The shadowy figure gave a single abrupt nod. Chief sighed. "You got it Boss..." He looked back at the tall man hoping for something

else, but knew there wouldn't be. His boss hadn't spoken more than a few words since he first set up this place two years ago.

Chief quickly collected the two girls, leaving the first woman in a dressing room tied to the stage. He walked the second girl briskly

toward the viewing room. He knocked once, opened the door for her, then left just as quickly, shaking his head with worry and

sighed. "..Poor kid."

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"You got a name?" a light, whispery voice sent shivers up her spine. The tone alone seemed to promise that your every desire would

come true… and at the same time demanded your respect and fear.

Gene had been too afraid to move, but this man's voice startled her enough to make her jump. She stared straight ahead not sure how

to answer, her anxious gaze landed upon the man where he sat, the little light there was shone from behind him, so that his face was in

a constant shadow. Her wide eyes traveled down the black leather vest and crimson silk artist top that disappeared seamlessly into a

pair of tight leather pants that hid very little. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the form fitting attire. To top it all off, he wore a pair

of leather boots that came up to his knees. The trench coat had been tossed carelessly into a corner.

"When I ask a question, it's polite to answer." Gene jumped. He beckoned to her with a still gloved hand. She moved forward until the

delicate wrist flicked up. "…that's close enough." Gene now stood only a few feet away from him, trying to still the frantic butterflies in

her stomach. "Now… your name."

"G-Genevieve…Sir." She mumbled, hoping she wouldn't have to repeat herself. Thankfully he'd heard her. "…Genevieve…" or maybe

that wasn't such a good thing. "..Genevieve…" He repeated her name again, slowly, teasing every syllable of the name in a slight, but

very seductive way that made her legs feel like melting jell-o.

"…Genevieve... I could not help but wonder, Genevieve," He moved without making a sound, as if even the leather were afraid to creak

 while this man wore it. His fingers trailed lightly down her neck sending shivers the length of her body.

Gene jumped. 'I didn't even see him move there!' She thought with alarm. 'How did he do that?? … What does he want with me?'

"…what a girl as young as you are, is doing in my little "Den of Sin"."

"I-I heard… you were looking for… women… to be in your … your films." She stammered.

"Women yes. Girls… no. You don't want this kind of a life... do you?"

"I n-need the money. I'll do whatever I have to." Gene stated stubbornly.

He laughed. It was a deeper, more sinister sound. What had she gotten herself into??

"You have spirit… I like that. You shouldn't be wasted on a place like this."

"I'll do what I have to, to get by." She said warily. 'But what would I have to do?'

Pushing away the fear enough to shakily begin unbuttoning her tight blouse she asked, "Isn't this what I'm supposed to do?"

"No." the ice in that one word froze her. "…I want you to do something else for me. Come over to the window." He brushed past her

standing beside it. "Don't be afraid… they can't see us…"

Who "they" were became clear when she stepped up next to the tinted glass. It was a filming set, complete with a bed and various props.

The girl shuddered when she saw some of them. Rope, chains that could be lowered from the ceiling, whips of various lengths and degrees

of inflicting pain… and several others that she'd rather forget existed. "Why are we-"

"Shh... Just watch. I want you to see what you are trying so desperately to do to yourself." With the flick of his wrist they began. 'If this

is one of those two-way mirrors' she thought, 'then they must have had some kind of camera or something inside this room. How

else would they know what was going on?' Gene watched trembling slightly, her wide eyes darted from one form to the next in first

embarrassment, then fear. "I… I don't…" her face had lost most of its color.

The man had seen enough as well. He raised a hand in a careless gesture. The beautiful blond from earlier was startled to find her screen

lover backing off and two more men advancing, but grinned playfully at them. Gene watched as the cameramen propped up the cameras

and ducked behind some kind of shield. The shadow man watched silently for a moment. Finally his hand sliced through the air in a signal.

 He smiled, lightly touching her shoulder and guiding her away from the glass. But not before she saw the woman's face twisted in a silent

scream of fear and pain. Later she would remember wondering how blood could be such a bright red…

"This," his feathery voice broke the silence. "Is not how every one of these "films" will work. But, just like those other people in the audition…

you never know if you will be chosen next, or what you will be chosen for." He lightly touched her cheek with a finger. "Now… I suggest you

find some other way to make a living. Go. My man will take you somewhere that you can stay for awhile."

Gene stayed rooted to the spot, confusion and curiosity momentarily overpowering her fear, but self-preservation took over the minute his

face turned toward hers, no longer shadowed. The sight took her breath away! His face was nothing less than … angelic; high cheekbones

added a fragility to his pale features, but his eyes… oh GOD his eyes…

Suddenly Gene felt that she would gladly drown in those liquid depths… they were a purple so deep color was barely discernable. And yet…

there was something else… her hand rose to stifle a startled yelp. Within those eyes she also saw death… for any and all who crossed him, or

for anyone at all. Barely concealed hunger prowled behind all of this, hunger for something… and if he killed upon a whim…

"W-why… are you… I-I don't…" she stammered.

"Why am I letting you go?" His mouth turned up into a heart-breaking smile. "Hmm…. You know… you may have a point there. Why am I

letting you go? You've seen the darker side of my little business venture, and actually rather beautiful for one so young." He reached up to touch

her face. Gene flinched. His smile faded but, thankfully, the arm dropped. "And worst of all, you've seen me. The man studied the shaking form

as if trying to decide.

"I-I won't e-ever tell a-anything, I swear!"

"I was going to let you go anyway, but I'll accept your promise not to tell a soul. In return… I give a warning. Know this young one- you must

keep yourself, and those like you, away from this kind of place. There are others who are not as lenient as I. Now go." He watched her for a

moment before stepping back into the shadows. "And Genevieve… if you value your life- don't ever come back.

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Chief knocked on the screening room door. "Boss… I did just like you said. Those church people'll take good care of her." He opened the

door a crack and poked his head into the lightless room. "Boss?"

The overstuffed office chair swiveled slowly to face the doorway. "Next time… they will not be spared. Even I cannot stop the inevitable."

"R-right Boss. And Boss- Thanks. You did a good thing tonight. I'll start screening 'em better. No more kids'll even get past the front door."

"Do that." The chair moved again, Chief quietly shut the door with a shiver. He'd never get used to that voice… and those eyes! The image of

the Boss' eyes glowing eerily in the darkness would follow him for the rest of the night; probably into his dreams too. Chief sighed. Sometimes,

working for Death could be a real bitch.