A/N: Sorry this took a little while longer to put up. Real life and all that jazz. Hope you're all well! Enjoy the new chapter - let me know what you think of Sid!!
Dickensian Streets
By Corralero
Chapter Three
"Duo Maxwell. Thought you were dead."
'Sid' was standing foursquare in Duo's path, looking accusingly at the teenager's all-too-living face. While not exactly fat, Sid had a maggot's softness about him, combined with an unhealthy pale pallor, a testament to a filthy lifetime of living in space. His lank greying hair straggled across his scalp to twist dejectedly around his shoulders. Duo, however, seemed unaffected by the man's unsavoury appearance, grasping his hand in a firm shake and grinning cheerfully.
"Dead? Hell no, 'm Duo Maxwell, man!"
Sid grunted.
"Thought it was too good to be true."
Duo stuck a fist to his chest, shooting a sorrowful look. "Ya cuttin' me deep, Sid, cuttin' me deep. So, how's th' dice bin fallin'?"
Sid finally seemed to decide it was time to move out of the hallway. They followed his shuffling progress as he grumbled over his shoulder.
"Same shit as always. Bloody lockdown's gonna screw some over something big time. An' you ain't helping nothing by bringing the blues right to my fucking front door."
Duo rolled his eyes at Quatre as they entered a sparse living area. Together they glanced around, swiftly taking in the security and exits.
"Aww, relax will ya. They never saw me comin'," Duo moved curiously into the kitchen area, reaching for the fridge. "Ya moan like a woman, man. Wha' ya got ta drink?"
Moving with unbecoming haste, the man slapped a podgy protective fist on the fridge's handle, glaring at the braided boy.
"Not so fast, maggot. I'm wanting some info first. Can't just waltz in here like it's a fucking hotel," Sid spoke to Duo's back as the boy moved away to look into the rest of the kitchen.
"Yeah, so wha' ya wanna know?"
"Where the fuck have you been? What the fuck you doing back? And who the fuck is this standing in my apartment?"
Duo paused in his restless investigation of the kitchen, his eyes meeting Quatre's guilty expression for the briefest of seconds. Then he waved a dismissive hand, leaning back against the grimy surface.
"Fair dos. That, my man," he gestured towards Quatre, "is Bryon. Fully legit, good guy. Get ta know him yaself, ya lazy bastard. He's gotta mouth, ain't he?" Sid shot Quatre a suspicious look as he waved weakly. Somehow shaking hands on introduction didn't seem to be the done thing here. "As for me," Duo paused, meeting the man's eyes with a wicked smile. "Blew th' joint, didn't I? Got right outta this shit-hole."
Sid snorted, finally relenting and opening the fridge door. He tossed a beer apiece to the two boys. Quatre fingered the cold glass uncomfortable. They were underage. He never drank but under the circumstances perhaps it was best just to fit in. Unscrewing the lid, he took a tentative sip and gagged slightly at the fizzing watery liquid. Flushing, he glanced around. Duo, as he might have guessed, had not qualms. He had wandered over to the rickety table and plonked himself down. Knocking the cap off on the edge of the table, he raised the bottle in mock-toast and took a healthy swig.
"Mind my fucking table," Sid cursed, "You jammy bugger. Stole away, did you?"
Duo lifted his chin proudly, "Yup, easy as hell. Got straight through their security system." He took a reflective swig. "Got caught after a couple of days though," he mused. Sid's puffy eyes widened. The man was completely engrossed.
"Jeeze, lucky they didn't jettison you."
Duo scowled. "Luck got fuck all ta do wit' it. They just got th' sweet Maxwell tongue. S'all ya need."
"Talked them to death, did you? Mouthy little sod," was the jeering reply. Duo grinned good-naturedly at the insults, tilting the chair back onto two legs. Quatre winced. Had they been alone or back with the others, he would have scolded the American to sit properly. He was sure Duo would one day go head over braid backwards.
"Hell yeah. They dropped me off at th' nearest port. L4. Made of gold compared ta this rustin' hole."
"Then what?"
"Same old, same old. Slip of this an' a lift of tha'." Duo's eyebrow quirked with irony as Sid gawuffed at the coded meaning Quatre had missed. He slapped the boy on the back, causing him to choke on the latest swig of beer.
"I'm tellin' you now, Maxwell. You're as black as sin. Born as crooked as the day you'll die."
Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Duo glared, complaining "Hey, s'not all tha' bad. Played it straight as well. Workin' wit' th' sweepers at th' moment. Honest livin' an' all tha'. But straight or crooked, I'm tellin' ya, it all pays off better than this shithole of a colony."
Looking vaguely affronted at the insult to his home colony, Sid muttered, "If you doin' so well then why the hell are you sneaking downtown in the middle of a lockdown? Thought you'd pay your old pal a visit?" He peered into Duo's eyes knowingly and suddenly Quatre realised that this man was rather more astute than he appeared. Duo grinned.
"Why else but th' fuckers in blue an' their ozzie pals?"
Suddenly the chair was on all four legs again. Quatre blinked at the abrupt change within his friend, even as he sighed quietly in relief to see the chair on an even keel.
"I'm cashin' in th' favours," Duo announced evenly. Sid chewed on a hangnail, listening carefully. "We've gotta get off L2 in th' next two days." Sid raised an enquiring eyebrow and Duo swore in mild exasperation. "Shit, man, don' be thick. Why'd'ya think I've gotta get off? Th' blue boys and ozzie's love ta get hold of me, wouldn' they? An' even I can' dodge 'em forever – ya seen th' scale of this lockdown? 'sides, got some cargo ta shift an' fast. It really ain't gonna be pretty if we're late."
Sid nodded slowly, still chewing away, while Quatre sat in quiet admiration of the other boy's speaking skill. Duo said he never lied, and Quatre trusted him implicitly, but he had never seen someone manipulate the truth and people's understanding of it quite so well before. His musings were cut short as Sid began to speak.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to shift your damned ass asap then, don't it?" He looked hard at Duo. "You got any idea how much you're asking here? You prepared to do what it takes?" He grunted at the dark look the other shot him. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're Maxwell's Demon, ain't you. 'Course you know." Lumbering to his feet, he looked down at them. "Looks like you're kipping here tonight then. C'mon, I've got a spare bed or two."
Quatre followed the man to the opposite end of the room with dubious curiosity. A ragged brown striped curtain hung across a doorframe dressed in peeling cream paint. Sid pulled the fabric back to reveal what was once not much more than a cupboard.
"Oh…lovely," Quatre stammered. He was too busy staring in ill concealed dismay at the thin mattress lying on the floor, complete with a heap of moth-eaten, flea-ridden ratty pile of blankets on top, to see the narrow assessing look Sid shot him. Sid let out a humorous chuckle.
"Maxwell's still got that thrice-damned tongue of his. He never did explain how someone like you fell in with the likes of him."
Quatre looked around guiltily. "It just…it just happened," he said weakly. The man nodded knowingly.
"Well, get yourself out pronto, kid. Don't want to be the next victim of the Maxwell's demon, now do we," he leered. Quatre frowned at him, and his face sobered. "I mean it, boy. Maxwell's luck is his and his alone."
Sucking in breath, Quatre struggled for an answer but Sid had lost interest and was yelling at Duo to take his feet off the table. Swallowing his confusion and dismay, Quatre bent down to gingerly finger the blankets. A low whistle broke his thoughts. Duo stood in the doorway, taking in their accommodation.
"Not half bad," he commented with a chuckle. At Quatre's incredulous look, he shrugged. "Compared to normal L2 standards, that is. Shudda seen this dump last time I was here."
Pulling himself together, the blonde helped Duo in spreading the blankets then blinked as the lights abruptly went out.
"Beddy byes," Duo whispered with a stifled giggle. They clambered in, settling back to back for warmth. Lying still and silent for a moment, Quatre listened to the noises of the L2 night. Suddenly, Duo twisted around to squeeze his shoulder.
"Ya did good, Q."
The Winner heir gave a small smile.
"Duo, I didn't do anything."
He could hear the grin in the other's voice.
"'sxactly. Could 'ave bin loads worse. Ya did good. Thanks, man."
"Night, Duo."
"Night, Bryon."
He heard Duo's giggle at his involuntary groan. As they settled down once more, a sleepy disgruntled whisper crossed between them.
"Worst name ever."
To Be Continued...
