Toxic

Chapter One: The Error in Our Ways

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing.

Sally Po sat perturbed at her desk. In her long, gloved fingers was a small card, business like in size and cream colored. In the top right corner there was a bloody fingerprint, a stamp of a potential murder since the neat, inky words below it read "First Victim".

She leaned back and put the card up to the light, seeing if there were any differences it its makeup or imprint. When nothing appeared Sally flopped back forward and glared at the tauntingly sadistic words. "First victim, as in there will be more or there already are?" she questioned herself quietly, chewing slightly on her lip.

"A poignant question, Ms. Po."

Sally's body tensed scarcely and her eyes glanced up to glare at her long time friend. "No matter how many times I tell you not to, Agent Noin, it seems as if you have an irrefutable need to break the rules," she growled through gritted teeth before waving her hand and snapping, "shut the door."

Now out of the line of prying eyes and dumbo ears Sally turned the card to face her friend. "First Victim," she said and tapped her finger near the bloody mark. "Most likely him."

"Or her," Noin contested with a smirk.

Sally's nostrils almost flared. "It was a generalization," she barked, slamming the card down on to the table. Noin glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, her hands tucked safely behind her back. Sally sighed.

"How the hell did someone get in here?" For the moment it was a rhetorical question. She looked to her ceiling and the one door that led in and out; the only entry points to her office. She rubbed her eyes. "Forensics will be up in a moment." She handed Noin the card. "Take this down to the lab and see if they can identify who that bloody print belongs to." Noin nodded and exited, leaving Sally to wallow in obvious frustration by herself.

Trowa sat hunched over a small table, his long torso a full bend shrouded in a black shirt, as he touched an icepack to his head. His boss, a fat, hairy, greasy sort of man with an uncharacteristically undaunting stare for someone of his stature amongst the unfortunate hierarchy of a run down restaurant, shook his head as he thumped by. His seemingly wet hair stuck to his face that, for some reason, always looked like it was sweating, and he pulled out his large fingers to push the strands away.

"You see," he began, peeking at the lanky man from between drying dishes, "I dwell in the back here because people would throw up if they knew I was preparing their food." There was a harsh gruff to his voice and his appearance, meaning his drastically drooped eyebrows and the piercing glint from his steel blue eyes, couldn't even make Trowa open his eyes. He knew his boss was a big cupcake on the inside. "You, on the other hand, hide back here to nurse a mysterious oozing wound."

Trowa's form shifted slightly and he turned to stare blatantly at the grease stains on his boss's protruding belly. He lifted his eyes purposely to match his boss's and raised an eyebrow. "I told you, I ran into a door," was his simple and peremptory response.

The fat man rolled his eyes and threw a small, white apron harshly Trowa's way. The brunette caught it, his reflexes quick despite one eye being masked in a bundle of ice. Setting down the pack he stood and tied it around his waist, placing the small menu book that had been sitting by his arm into a fraying, stained pocket. "If you loose fights with doors this often then I just might have to fire you. Who wants to see a beat up kid serving them food?" Trowa's boss placed his hands on his hips like a scolding mother. "I don't pay you to sit on your ass, go make me some money."

Pushing the stool back under the table with a hair rising screeching sound Trowa nabbed the icepack from the table and threw in nonchalantly into a dripping sink. "Who said I lost?" was his saucy remark before he pushed on the rusting metal doors and was greeted with the sight of a dank dining place. The only thing Trowa liked about this place was the fact that the entire front of the restaurant was windows, it made the place seem bright despite it's obviously grotesque upkeep.

The man behind the bar nodded towards a couple and Trowa gave a curt nod back, walking slowly towards the arguing duo, obviously discontent with where they'd chosen to eat.

"This place looks foul…" he heard the woman say but the man brushed her comments off with a wave.

"It only looks that way, I swear they've got the best grilled cheese sandwiches here…"

The girl only sighed and propped her head miserably on her hand. She continued to stare indecisively at the menu before coming to a grudging conclusion on what she was going to eat. Trowa reached their table and, as if the guy could sense his presence, took his order of a grilled cheese sandwich. The girl tapped her fingers on the metallic table, obviously uncomfortable, and spewed a quick order of the same. "And do you have the… Good lord!" she cried when she looked up.

Staring down at her was Trowa's eyes; one a forest-like green, actually pretty if you covered the other one up, the other a mass of dried blood and sloppy stitches. He was sporting a massive yellowing bruise that caused the skin to swell and produced a sort of lazy eyed look as it partially closed his line of vision. The girl placed a hand to her mouth and looked disgustedly at her partner.

Trowa sighed. "No I'm sorry, we don't serve that here. The church about two blocks north can give you a big helping though, I'm sure."

The girl gasped at his response, his voice barely earnest but hardly sarcastic. Her hand remained on her mouth and she looked as if she was going to throw up. Pushing her chair back with a ferocity her companion obviously didn't know she had, she stood quickly and dashed from the run down diner. The man stood and yelled, "Wait, babe!" before running out after her.

Trowa stared after them for a while, watching as she walked unyieldingly away from his workplace. He'd sort of figured something like that would happen and didn't quite care much for the girl's stiff response. It wasn't his business to be bothered, however, and he peered over to the guy at the bar, who was smirking.

Glad I could bring a smile to your face, he thought sarcastically as he turned and walked back into the kitchen, searching for his icepack. He found it a few moments later in a bowl of half eaten chili and a sticky Alfredo sauce. Picking it up he winced slightly and glanced down at his bruised knuckles. The red scabs, dull bruising and the humungous mass that was now his left eye were not the only remnants of his long night.

He'd been sloppy last night, something had been bothering him in the back of his mind but he couldn't put his calloused finger on it. Whatever it was, however, was messing up his concentration and thus his nightly performance. Just thinking about the previous night brought more pain to his right side, where he'd suffered a pretty hard kick. He lifted his shirt and touched the bruise gingerly with his long fingers. The skin was warm and pulsing with blood, a beat that barely matched his slow heart rate.

Trowa rarely got excited; it was partially why he was so good at what he did. Most of his opponents were praised for being tense but Trowa was loosey-goosey, a lanky, hunched over fighter who remained more on his other senses than his eyes. He was flexible; it was a strange talent that had earned him a lot of flack, but he liked to think of it as a tactical maneuver. His other senses had been busy last night, however, and he hadn't been able to focus his center before his name was drawn.

Trowa shook his head, trying to escape his embarrassing display the previous night. He'd come out on top but only by a small margin. His credibility had gone down, that was for sure, and unfortunately integrity was like money in his world. Hopefully they'd let him back in the ring…

Trowa felt his pocket vibrate and pulled out a cheep, chipping phone from its depths. It was a text from that strange kid who always congratulated him when he won. He was a flimsy looking kid, one who looked on in eagerness whenever others fought but, now that Trowa thought about it, he'd never actually seen the kid dual before. Shrugging his shoulders (and regretting it later over the pain) he stared down at the screen and smirked. The text was blunt and to the point.

Kings beard. 1:17. McKinnley's there. Don't fuck up.

Mckinnley… a quick, strong, rich kid from America Trowa had a bit of beef with. Snapping his phone shut his mouth pursed grimly. He'd find some KB some odd hours before the match to dull the pain and hope the slow response effect he got from weed would wear off by the time he and Mckinnley would scrap.

Reaching into the sink Trowa pulled the icepack from the bowl, rinsed it a bit, and then pressed the greasy coolness to his eye once again. It was going to be a long night…

Minako bowed swiftly and gracefully down onto one knee upon entering Neo-Queen Serenity's office. She could feel Wufei's standing bow behind her and mentally chastised him for his impudence; when both king and queen were present you bowed to your knees. Two rulers, two levels lower.

Serenity obviously didn't mind as she looked up slightly from the papers she and her husband were inspecting and nodded. "Venus, Wufei," she acknowledged, Endymion giving the same, steady, affirming nod.

The two remained in their bowed position until the queen asked gently why she deserved their audience. Minako stood, giving Wufei a small look over her shoulder as she did, one that spoke volumes on her end and one that he preferred to delicately ignore.

Minako cleared her throat, placing her hands behind her back. She opened her mouth to speak but the words paused, furious in her throat when a deeper voice reverberated above her.

"There's been a possible Black Ops breach."

Minako's gloved fists clenched tightly behind her back and her lips pressed firmly into a thin line. For not speaking much, Wufei sure knew the inappropriate times to open his mouth. She wanted to turn around and smack the hell out of him for his blunt statement but to do so would be embarrassing for both parties and definitely not part of the code of conduct. Before the queen, king, or Wufei could even ponder the previous words spoken Minako let her voice be heard.

"The director, Sally Po, would like a direct audience with you. She seemed shaken over the phone and gave me a story, most likely fabricated, about an office intrusion and a request to borrow agents from the Crystal Services."

The floor creaked as Wufei shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It wasn't necessarily that the story was fabricated," he disagreed and Minako bit the inside of her cheek harshly. "I believe that she was simply not telling the whole story, she's holding back information she doesn't want swimming around and would like us to respect the fact that she'd rather only divulge that information to you."

If it had been some sort of movie or comedy Minako was sure that her character would have chosen that moment to furiously stomp on his foot while giving Neo-Queen Serenity and King Endymion a peachy, little smile. Oh, how he made her blood boil.

Neo-Queen Serenity looked at them with a sort of blue eyed innocent gaze and nodded her head, her husband placing a hand to her shoulder. "A Black Op infiltration is a matter of national security. Have her sent up immediately please."

The two nodded, giving another small bow, and turned to depart through the large oak doors. Minako, however, paused when she heard her queen call out her name.

"Venus, could you stay for a moment?"

Hand poised precariously on the edge of the door, ready to shut it, Minako looked over her shoulder to Wufei's back, walking steadily away, with a sneer before turning and walking back into the office. "Of course," she said, shutting the large door with as much grace and silence as she could muster. "What may I do for you?"

Neo-Queen Serenity looked at her with a watery stare. Her eyes moved mover Minako's body tiredly, almost in pity at the Senshi uniform she still wore. Her and Setsuna were the only two to enter that mystical garb since the Great Freeze. In some ways it made Neo-Queen Serenity feel guilty. She felt partially as if her place in the protection of the planet was becoming less of an able bodied warrior and more of a political liaison. Her mind was on the edge of a serious mental flashback but she pulled herself back so as not to seem like she was daydreaming.

Her eyes focused on Minako's waiting eyes and she frowned, the patter in her heart almost angry. It's like Minako only saw her as a queen now, a head of state, a higher power political machine where strict protocol was to be followed to the T and ease abandoned.

"Minako Aino, what's my name?"

Needless to say Minako was startled. Not only at the question but that was first time she'd heard her name, her full, real name, spoken aloud in who knew how long. It felt strange, foreign, uncomforting, as if she'd been on an undercover mission and her enemy had found out her true identity. She answered nonetheless.

"N-Neo-Queen Serenity."

The look her queen gave her made Minako's heart sink. She looked disappointed, her eyebrows slanted downward and her eyes speaking volumes. In addition she seemed partially sad, a glassy gaze overtaking her bright blue orbs. They stared at each other for a moment, a confusing battle with an unknown motive.

"Minako, what's my name?"

Minako's confusion was now evident on her face. "I don't…" she started, perplexed, before continuing, "Neo-Queen S—"

"Mina-chan, what the hell is my name?!"

At her outburst Minako jumped. Her heart gave a tiny jolt and the taste of metal rushed into her mouth, causing her to swallow uncomfortably, the strain visibly evident in her throat. Her hands were sweaty and they dropped from their stiff position behind her back to hang almost lifelessly by her sides. Her queen's face was flushed, her eyes no longer holding that disappointing river, but now they held a furious storm of sapphire and anger. Her body was leaning dangerously over her desk, small hands splayed over paperwork and pigtails spewed amongst the wood like strands of golden embossment. Minako felt unbearably compelled to answer.

"Usagi Tsukino."

Serenity sat harshly back into her chair.

"Don't forget it." Her voice was laced with the most fury Minako had ever heard even near her pure body. It almost shook and her lips were pressed tight into a small frown and her nostrils flared in livid vehemence.

Serenity folded her hands into her lap. If Minako saw her solely as a monarch then she would assume the position of a monarch. "You may leave," was her cold dismissal.

Minako thought about bowing for a moment before completely disbanding the idea and slipping quickly from the room. She stumbled down the hallway, her posture approving an air of lucidness but her mind was in the state of a hallucinogenic drug. Minako had never experimented with drugs, thus the experiences were partially lost on her, but if she had to guess what the effects of psilocybin were, Minako assumed they would be something along these lines.

The hallways shuddered and bent around her. The postured carvings mounted along its tops morphed from the serene, putto-like, innocent faces with round cheeks and eyes filled with dream to vile children with a knowing, secret glint in their circular eyes, and a smile teeming with malice. When her breathing came ragged, Minako pressed a hand to her heart, shocked to feel it's crazed and erratic beating. Only with the realization of her blood pumping with the speed of a Ferrari down an open speedway did Minako fold herself into a wall, clutching furiously at her chest and hunching over. Her hair veiled her face from sight and Minako, for once, was appreciative of its ludicrous length. If anyone was to see the embarrassment, the pain, and the overall horror that twisted at her face in that moment, that observer would be peering into a long forgotten page in the emotion diary of Minako Aino.

In part she felt sad, sad that her queen… that Usagi had tried to reach out to her, tried to hint at some semblance of their former relationship and that she hadn't understood that Usagi was trying to reconnect. The other part of her was infuriated. At first the fury went unnoticed, like the first bite of a jalapeno pepper. But the spicy anger hit full blast when she realized just what Usagi was insinuating.

Usagi thought she was dissenting, drifting away, thinking more of the job rather than the attachment. Minako clenched her fists, nails digging through her gloves enough to penetrate her palms. Was it not her who stood up for their given position? Was it not Venus who stayed by the side of her queen? Was it not Minako Aino who begged for the others to stay? Was it not dear old Mina-chan who stayed by Usagi's side when she had nightmares of their separation?!

She heard footsteps padding softly on the shorthaired carpet down the hallway and her body went rigid. "Venus?" A voice called behind her. The blonde's rapidly beating heart almost stopped, as if the driver of the Ferrari suddenly pulled up the emergency brake. The sudden change in emotion brought a churning to her stomach and bile rose uncomfortably in her chest, resting sourly in her throat. It was Wufei.

The Senshi of Venus straightened up and swallowed, holding down a grimace at the grotesque consequences of the action. "Wufei," she responded, assuming her regal air of confidence. Or so she thought.

Wufei walked upon her and noticed something was not quite right. She'd always been cocky and standoffish towards him, and needless to say grumpy and rude. However, the awkward pose she'd seized acquired a couture model stance and her eyes held a glossy, sick tint. She was leaning heavily against the wall as a crutch and after all…

"You're crying…" He reached up to swipe a tear from her face, managing to connect a rough thumb to her now clammy cheek before Minako jerked her head away from his touch as if stung. Wufei pulled the thumb close to his face and inspected the salty substance that resided there as if he were inspecting ancient miniature text.

At first Minako looked confused, as if the word crying eluded her, as if the meaning of the word tears did not exist in her vocabulary. When she felt her cheek softly and realized that there was, indeed, the residue of anguish resting on her face, she furiously wiped them aside like she did Wufei, stumbling curiously down the hallway.

"I'm just not feeling well," was her lofty response, barely reaching Wufei's inquiring ears. But he knew it was more than that, more than a sickness, something even more than the obvious long lost relationship between her and the queen.

After Minako had left, Endymion watched as his wife placed her head in her hands and bawled like the teenager he knew was still inside her. The only sniffling words he could cipher from her jumbled, nonsensical, watery lips were "I miss them…" and "I'm so lonely…"

The only comfort he could think of was to get onto his knees and pull her sitting body into a tight hug. She responded as he assumed she would and wound her arms firmly around his head, face tucked harshly into his warm neck. Endymion knew his words would do no good. After all, there wasn't much to say; he was pretty damn lonely himself.

I apologize for this chapter coming out so late. I continually complain about how slow the section is moving and yet I can't even get a quick chapter out. I suppose I'm treating my writing like I am school; I've transformed into a second semester senior and that equals negligent. This chapter featured Sally, Noin, Trowa, Wufei, Minako, Usagi and Mamoru. I've had a little streak of inspiration and perhaps the third chapter will be coming out soon, featuring Ami and Makoto, Quatre, Michiru and Haruka, Rei, and Heero.

Oh, and all you Setsuna and Hotaru fans? Don't worry, they'll be showing up as integral parts of the story, probably right around when Duo starts to get some limelight… just not quite yet.

And I don't usually do this, but...:

reina shirahime: thank you! I know, I know, another story, but it's fun to work on ones that are in different genres otherwise i get bored with one story. So now I have the chance to switch between all three! I am trying to bring about a new atmosphere, a new... i don't know, outllook? On the whole relationship between the Senshi and the guys.

Requiem of Fire: Thanks to you as well! I'm excited for this story too, I have really good ideas for it :) By the way, I thoroughly enjoy reading your story, What's Left of Me. It's very entertaining and I absolutely love how you're setting Rei's character, it's completely believable to me.

Aqua Tonic: Thanks so much! Mind thrilling is what I strive for :)

suisei no mitsukai: Thank you, freshness is what I try to achieve as well. I absolutely love the idea of Ami in the forensics lab but I'm a little nervous because I'm pretty bad with forensic terms and abilities. My sources are solely TV and Wikipedia, haha. I have plans for Quatre, oh do I have plans for him. His unrequited love will get him into quite some mess, but you'll have to wait and see where it leads him :) I'm not saying it's not Ami, but I'm not saying it is either.

aquafina rain: I know EXACTLY what you mean! Crime stories get me all tingly inside, especially when they're focused around my favorite characters. Unfortunately there aren't many decent ones out there so I sat down and said "well gee! I think I'll just do it myself, then!". I'm glad you think that where I've set the characters suits them. I tried to set it up that way so that they can slowly meet each other on realistic grounds before they all come together in the story. Thanks for reviewing :)