Black Velvet (1/1)
by Anne
Ratings/warnings: OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar etc) – PG13, action, drama, romance.
Pairings: 4+5
Summary: A lunch date turns into something much more.
Archive: http:dryerspace. Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the characters in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any physical injury or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.
Author's notes: Happy birthday, haraamis! loves The seed for this ficlet started life as a LJ drabble challenge, and then the boys stole the script. Line was: "We're going around in circles, over and over again, and don't even realise it." It also had to be Wufei centric, but Quatre decided he wanted in, and a piece of Wufei as well coughs
Dedication: For haraamis.
Thanks to: Bast for beta reading, plus others who helped out with comments and encouragement: Misanagi, Ruth, Shadow and Jenn Abiding.
Comments to: anne going around in circles, over and over again, and don't even realise it." Wufei leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Or rather, you don't realise it."
"I know exactly where I'm going." Quatre snorted. "You're not paying attention."
Wufei sighed and shook his head. "Your logic is flawed. Explain it again."
Quatre picked up the black velvet glove on his desk and examined it again. "This glove belongs to a woman." He sniffed the glove before dropping it into a standard Preventers' evidence bag and sealing it. "It's covered in perfume, and…"
"We should be more concerned for /his/ next target rather than going around in circles discussing his gender," Wufei interrupted, his voice softening.
"I'm quite capable of looking after myself and have no intention of sitting under armed guard while this idiot goes free." Quatre sighed. "/She's/ already proved that if one victim isn't available the next will do." He gave Wufei a smile. "I know you're concerned for my safety but this really isn't the issue here."
"For the moment it is." Wufei refused to be swayed by Quatre's tactics. It would take more than a smile to make him back down, especially with Quatre's life at stake. He would never forgive himself if he lost another person he cared about. Meiran had been one too many.
He had come to meet Quatre for lunch, to convince his friend to take a break from the work-load that had plagued both of them during this case. Wufei was part of the Preventer task force and Quatre had joined the team recently in an advisory capacity. A black velvet glove found at the scene was the only thing linking the killings so both knew the implications of finding one on Quatre's desk. Going into protective custody was the wisest thing to do, so of course, Quatre disagreed.
Quatre frowned and rubbed at his chest. "Wufei, "he began but Wufei gestured for him to be quiet. Immediately Quatre's eyes narrowed and he reached for the gun he'd been carrying since the assassinations had begun. Wufei already had his out and was scanning the room.
"Down!" A flash of light from the window highlighting a glint of metal was their only warning. Wufei fired a few shots in the direction of the window, then dived under the desk with Quatre.
"Damn," Quatre swore under his breath. He glanced over at Wufei. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Wufei paused. "You?"
"Pissed off." Quatre poked his head over the top of the desk then ducked as a couple of shots were fired in his direction. He edged up again, pulled hard, and caught the phone from his desk as it landed in his lap, picked up the receiver and cursed. "Dead," he explained. "Persistent, isn't she?"
"Yes," Wufei agreed. His phone was in his jacket, which was on the sofa on the other side of the room. "He is."
Quatre snorted. "Just admit you're wrong, Wufei." His breathing was uneven, his words coming out in a hiss. Wufei regretted that he had closed the office door on the way in; this was one of those times where having a soundproof office was a definite drawback.
"When I have proof I might." Wufei glanced over at Quatre. "Were you hit?"
"I'm fine." Quatre paused. "It's just a scratch." He fumbled around in his pocket, key chain rattling as it landed on the floor.
"Use this." Wufei handed him a clean handkerchief.
Quatre winced. He put his gun down, took the handkerchief and attempted to wind the cloth around his wrist with one hand.
"Here, let me." Wufei leaned over, frowning as he examined Quatre's wrist. It was more than just a scratch, and the makeshift dressing was already covered in blood. "Cover us."
Quatre nodded and picked up his gun in his left hand. "Thank you."
"Thank me when this is over." Wufei applied pressure to the wound. "You were lucky. Next time you might not be." Quatre's stubborn streak would one day be the death of him.
"I'm still not going into protective custody." Quatre's voice was firm. "We finish this now, Wufei."
"I finish this now," Wufei told him, just as firmly. "You're injured." He completed the dressing, his thumb tracing a trail from Quatre's wrist to his hand. The assassin must have disabled Quatre's security before launching the attack. That, in itself, was impressive.
Another couple of shots sounded over the desk and then a woman's voice spoke. "If Mr. Chang surrenders, I'll let Mr. Winner live."
Wufei bit back an exclamation of surprise. The other victims had all been high profile politicians or businessmen, which was why he had presumed Quatre to be the intended target.
"Like hell," Quatre muttered under his breath. He turned to Wufei. "I told you it was a woman," he said, "and that there was no need for me to go into protective custody." He rolled his eyes. "It never occurred to you that maybe her calling card was left on my desk because she knew you were meeting me for lunch, did it?"
"It didn't occur to you either." Wufei wasn't impressed with this turn of events. All this time, he and the other Preventers assigned to this case had presumed that the glove had been left to signify the next victim, rather than the place of the killing.
The would-be assassin sighed. "If you gentlemen would stop bickering, I do have a job to do."
"Mr. Chang will not be surrendering," Quatre said, icily.
"Isn't that up to me?" Wufei hissed.
"No." Quatre shrugged. "I invited you to lunch because I was going to tell you something I should have a long time ago, and I'm sure as hell not going to let some idiot interrupt those plans because she wants to kill you." He leaned over, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I love you."
"You what?" Wufei looked at him for a moment, his brain registering what Quatre had just said. "Quatre, this isn't the time or…."
Quatre grinned. "Still want to surrender?" He strengthened his grip on his gun, using both hands to take some of the pressure off his injured wrist.
"No." Wufei raised his voice to address his would-be killer. "I suggest /you/ place your gun on the floor and surrender. You're outnumbered."
He was answered by a laugh. "You're not in a position to negotiate, Mr. Chang, and Mr. Winner is injured. Surrender and I'll kill you quickly."
"Thank you for the generous offer, but no thank you." Wufei signaled to Quatre, and held up four fingers. Quatre nodded, and smiled thinly. This would be over very quickly, and once Quatre's injury had been tended to, Wufei had every intention of making their interrupted lunch date up to him.
Wufei began counting, edging his way into position, knowing that Quatre would be doing the same. On four Wufei rolled out from under the desk, coming up into a crouching position to cover Quatre as he fired at the assassin. His first shot hit her in the shoulder. The second knocked the gun from her hand. Wufei's reasoning was correct; she had expected him to attack rather than Quatre, who was injured.
The woman glared at them, retrieved her weapon and ran for the open window. Wufei was faster. "I don't think so," he said, disabling her with a well-aimed kick, and pinning her to the floor. He handcuffed her and then shifted his attention back to Quatre. "You okay?"
"I will be," Quatre gave him a forced smile. "Why did you target Mr. Chang?" he asked the woman. "He doesn't fit the victim profile."
She sneered, red hair coming loose of its pony-tail to obscure her eyes. "The others were just business but this was personal. My brother died at Lake Victoria during the war."
Wufei tensed. If this woman knew that he was a Gundam pilot, did she know that Quatre had been one too? Was this failed attempt on his life the result of a personal vendetta or part of something bigger? "If the other killings were just business, who hired you?"
"Work it out yourself." She spat in his face, and then turned her head away.
Wufei took a step closer, but Quatre stepped between them. "Don't," he said. "She's just trying to provoke you. The interrogation team will deal with her."
"Give me some credit," Wufei spoke more harshly than he had intended.
Quatre shot him a glare. "I do, and probably more than you give yourself." He sighed. "So much for lunch. By the time we clean up the mess and the paperwork…"
"You're injured, paperwork would only aggravate that injury, and I should accompany you to the medical facilities to make sure procedure is followed correctly."
"I might just agree with you, this time." Quatre gestured towards their prisoner. "However, I do recall…"
"Quatre," Wufei placed a finger across Quatre's lips to stop the argument before it began again.
"What?" Quatre pushed Wufei's finger away. "Look, if you're not willing to admit that I was right, then I…"
Wufei smirked. "Oh, I'm willing, just not willing to go around in circles again when we could be doing something much more constructive." He placed his arm around Quatre's waist, pulled him closer and kissed him. Quatre leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly to allow Wufei access.
"Much more constructive," Quatre whispered, after they parted. "I take it this means you want to have dinner with me tonight."
"I might," Wufei grinned, threading his fingers through Quatre's hair and kissing him again.
The door burst open, but they ignored the interruption. "I thought you guys might need help." Duo sounded amused. "But it appears that you have everything well under control."
Fin
