Warnings: mild violence, mention of fictitious death, mention of prostitution & drugs, coarse language, M/M lime/lemon, and general adult situations.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is a product of Sunrise & Bandai Entertainment, I do not claim ownership to these characters, only to my own words.
A/N: Thanks to everyone for sticking with me so far! Here's another twist in a probably rather bumpy road ahead for our favorite Gundam friends. All feedback and love is appreciated. Enjoy.
Chapter 9: Twisted Lust & Low Slung Leather
"Absolutely not. It's out of the question. The answer is a definitive no."
Duo was staring at Wufei with that little light in his eyes that Heero knew meant either something very dangerous or something very laughable was about to take place next.
"I think the idea of walking into a sex club makes you a little hot and bothered, 'Fei," Duo purred. Well at least it wasn't something very dangerous. "I think maybe you're not as much of a prude as you let on."
Wufei's carmel toned skin blanched and then just as abruptly flamed a warm shade of crimson. "Maxwell, would you shut up! It is out of the question because impersonating a prostitute is simply not something a consultant- you or otherwise- is authorized to do."
"Authorized?" Duo snorted a laugh. "You know, I came to you with this because you said you could help. But if you ain't gonna authorize it then by all means drop the case and I'll figure things out myself."
Heero stepped forward then, tentatively. "I think what Chang is trying to say-"
"What I'm trying to say is that it is an utterly stupid idea! What happens if you get caught- or worse killed like those other victims?"
"Huh, funny. Half of that sounds like you're a condescending asshole and the other half sounds like you might actually care about my safety." Casually Duo flipped him a middle finger and then strode past the Preventer agent and into the man's own kitchen where he proceeded to scavenge for a mug.
Wufei had to visibly restrain himself, making quick eye contact with Heero before following to continue the impossible conversation. "What is your plan once you're there anyways, Maxwell?"
Duo fussed with a warming kettle on the stovetop, pouring the hot liquid into a cup already laden with a bag of tea. "Talk to people, Wufei. Socialize- something you would know little about." He turned with that feral smirk that had Heero biting his tongue. "If I drop Emir's name enough maybe something interesting will come up."
"Going into a brothel and dropping a dead man's name around might not be your best option." Wufei took the necessary strides to pull his kettle off the stovetop, then turned to fit Duo with a dark scowl.
Duo, for his part, gave a little shrug and then vacated the small kitchen to find a seat at Wufei's square dining table. "Maybe- but if I've got eyes on the outside and someone on the inside with me, the plan might just stand a chance."
"Someone on the inside? You're not suggesting-"
"Don't flip the fuck out," Duo assured him. "Not you- I happen to know someone else who's pretty adept at undercover work."
Now it was Heero's turn to scowl. "Trowa has already done enough for you, Duo. You can't possibly think he'll agree to another scheme like this again."
Duo raised brows in his direction. "Yes, actually, I do."
Heero's teeth gnashed. It had been surprisingly easy to convince Trowa the last time, surely it would not be so simple again. Those ominous words echoed back into his mind again, making his stomach clench. Let's just say Quat owed me one. Could that possibly have something to do with Trowa's bizarre willingness? He had mentioned cashing in favors- plural.
But Heero didn't have much time to mull the thought over as Duo was rambling on again. "Look, I'm not gonna force any of you to help me. At this point I'd understand if you don't really want your star hitched to my wagon. But this is important to me and it seems like I'm in pretty deep already. This is a lead and I'm taking it- with or without backup."
The gravity of his words took a few seconds to hit home with the other two men, but then Wufei was growling out, "That would surely be suicide."
Heero watched Duo's shoulders lift dramatically before falling down against the back of his chair. "Que sera sera."
Without another thought he was stalking towards the overtly blasé man, grabbing ahold of his arm and bodily hauling him out of his seat and towards the studio's small patio. "A moment?" he spat out, catching Wufei's approving eye before thrusting Duo through the small sliding door and closing it with a forceful slam.
Duo stared at him, first with visible shock, then with something akin to frustration. He brushed at his arm, though Heero knew he'd not been the least bit injured. "What the fuck, Yuy?"
Heero laced arms over his chest, the mid-morning air cool against his exposed skin. "Why are you doing this?"
There came a genuine look of confusion from the man standing across from him. "Doing what?"
"Earlier you asked me why I was killing myself over-" Heero had to swallow hard to keep his composure. "-over her. So now I'm asking you the same. Why are you killing yourself over this meaningless case?"
Duo's eyes grew wider, as did his smirk. "Meaningless? Geeze, that's cold. And to think I thought you'd mellowed with age."
Heero growled under his breath and approached the man, earning him a wary backwards step before Duo decided to hold his ground. He grabbed ahold of him by the shoulders, restraining the urge to shake him until his teeth rattled. "You think I don't get it? Do you think I'm that ignorant? Why did you come back to earth?"
That clearly hadn't been the question Duo had been expecting. His cheeks hollowed and his eyes struggled against Heero's harshened features. "I-I..."
Heero let him scramble for words until he couldn't take it anymore. He pushed Duo back against the patio railing and distanced himself physically. "You quit Preventer. You came here to Brussels. You came back because of me."
Duo just stood there, slack jawed and utterly out of character, like the wind had been knocked out of him and he couldn't get his mind to function properly. "No..."
"No?" Heero scoffed. "That's not what everyone around here keeps telling me. Why would you do that? How could you be so stupid?"
That finally managed to snap Duo back to reality, a slow burn of emotion riddling his pallid features. His jaw clenched with an audible snap of teeth. "That's so like you, Heero. How could I be so stupid? Right, because I'm the only idiot around here, is that it?"
Heero just glared, keeping his mouth shut tight, listening. Duo took a step forward, finger outstretched to point towards his chest viciously. "You never get it, do you? Fuck, she seriously messed you up in the head. They all did! You really think all I ever wanted from you was- was- shit, I can't even believe I'm having this conversation right now. You're the one that fucking kissed me."
All I ever wanted from you? Heero's features melted a fraction. "I already explained about that-"
"Yeah, sure." Duo glowered. "Perverse, inappropriate, presumptuous. I wonder what Tro or Quat or 'Fei- or even the fucking Queen would have to say about that?"
Heero frowned. "I don't understand-"
"Of course you don't. You never have, have you?"
He wasn't sure. Was Duo bringing about mistakes made in the past? Mistakes made when they were much younger, much more naive- when he hadn't a clue how things worked other than mechs and guns and war. "This case- there's something you're not telling me."
Duo inclined his head to stare at his boots, shadows encasing his features. "Shit, Heero. Those messages were directed at me. Those bodies- I have to be the one to do this. I can't let them get to anyone else."
Heero felt an immense and overwhelming urge to reach out and fold the man in his arms, to hold him and to protect him from whatever it was that seemed to be attacking him. But he didn't. "I don't understand. Why is this happening?"
Indigo eyes flicked up to meet his own, something hollow about their intensity. "That's what I intend to find out."
After their conversation on the patio Heero quickly found that he didn't have much grounds to tell Duo what to do or what not to do. That irritated him to no end, but also gave him a sense of duty. If he couldn't control Duo, at least he could be an effective party to the investigation- he could protect him by doing as he was asked in the first place. He would help.
"Someone pulled him into this case- grabbed his attention." Wufei sat next to him in their unmarked vehicle, staring down at an open file that had already been dutifully memorized. "But they had to have been spurred by something. What possible motivation could they have?"
Heero kept his eyes glued to the monitor on a Preventer issue laptop, the one showing security cameras he'd managed to hack into, the one detailing a fairly wide angle of the interior of the building in which Duo had entered exactly sixty-two minutes ago. "What motivations do you see often in the field- money, power, revenge."
"You think someone's out for him- what, in revenge from the war? It's been years, we've wiped those slates clean. Few would be able to find us even if they tried," was Wufei's predictable response.
Heero just shrugged. "Out of all of us- save for maybe Quatre- Duo is the most recognizable. Remember the wanted posters?"
He saw Wufei's grimace from his peripheral vision. "Unfortunately. But why now, after all this time? He's not even with Preventer anymore-"
"I have a hard time thinking it has anything to do with him being a Gundam pilot or Preventer," Heero answered gruffly. "His origins on L2 would fit more precisely with this case. But, even that doesn't seem quite right."
Wufei took a thoughtful sip from his thermos. "Intuition?" he wondered softly. "That's rather more Winner's element."
The air around them was almost as if things had never changed, almost as if Heero were still a member of the team, as if they were still partners, unbreakable. "I'm not sure," he said, honestly.
The two men didn't speak then for a long while, eyes gazing over paperwork, interviews, photographs, and the security feed that Heero couldn't quite feel settled about. The club they sat across the street from was anything but elegant from the outside; cracking stucco facade, rod iron bars over top-floor windows that hovered just underneath a crumbling tiled roof. The door was hidden in the shadows of the adjacent alleyway, thick and metallic, containing a small window that could only be opened from the inside.
The scene was like something out of an old-fashioned pre-colony tale of gangsters and speakeasies- at least that's what Wufei had postulated. Heero had been busy trying hard not to think about just how Duo had come across the appropriate length of words, the ones his supple mouth had whispered into the little window that had gained he and Trowa access to Pavot.
But now, scanning the security feed, he could see in detail that this particular club was anything but a rundown, disease ridden, brothel like he'd been expecting. From what he could see the interior was impressive to say the least. Walls covered in velvet paper scrawled with gold and burgundy damask, a cherry-wood laden bar, fully stocked with only top-shelf liqueurs and spirits, chandeliers of crystal shadowing lacy patterns across lush carpeted floors, leather couches, brocade chaises, a heavy mist of smoke hanging visibly in the air, filtering up from rich cigars and jade-carved opium pipes.
But what impressed upon him most were the people that scattered themselves throughout the luxurious expanse. The older patrons harbored expensive silk dress shirts, tasteful neckties ties, tailored suits, velveteen smoking jackets, the occasional sequined evening gown. But skintight and sheer was the optimum choice in clothing among most of the younger bodies, many dressed in delicate silk corsets- men as well as women- leather undergarments, lavish jewelry, rouge, lipstick, lace bodices, patent leggings, mesh tanks, tasseled bras, and occasionally nothing at all.
He'd thought the clothing that Duo had chosen had been far too risqué and impractical, but now he understood the necessity behind his costume. A black, silk shirt- two-sizes too small- left hanging open to reveal a lean, milky chest and soft abdomen. Tight leathers slung low on sharp hips, somewhat akin to Trowa's own, though these were riddled with slits and tears, the fabric hiding only what was necessary. His hair had been braided loosely, a gold ribbon tying off the end to match the charms, bangles, and rings lining his wrists and fingers. A thin line of coal rimmed his eyes, the indigo glowing vibrant from under naturally thick lashes. His black combat boots were the only foreseeably 'normal' thing about the entire ensemble.
It had been enough to make Heero visibly quiver.
The only reasonably good thing that had happened so far that night had involved the man that shadowed behind Duo as they'd entered the club together. It had taken considerable coaxing to get Trowa to agree this time, the response Heero had expected of him the first time around, a response he could not stop himself with agreeing with.
Against Heero's advisement, it had taken the begged intervention of Wufei to convince him, as odd as that interaction had been. But Chang, for reasons still unknown, had come at it from an agent's perspective, talking logically about the case as if it were just another criminal to be run up out of the muck. Heero was beginning to fear that his friends had all somehow succumbed to whatever strange spell Duo Maxwell had had him under so many years before.
And so for now, they watched. For the first hour it had been less than entertaining and not at all fruitful when it came to their investigation. Trowa, for his part, sat at the bar, clad in a charcoal Armani that he seemed all-too comfortable in, and sipping bourbon from a heavy-bottomed glass. Duo clung next to him for a while as he surveyed the main room, posture casual and inviting, his fingers occasionally tickling across Trowa's neck or those familiar black-framed vid-glasses in a way that made Heero's muscles involuntarily tense.
But it was all an act, all part of this entirely impulsive and ill-planned mission. Heero had to keep telling himself that, even as Duo's lips trailed next to Trowa's ear- presumably discussing persons and surroundings- or when a passerby ogled the braided man's tightly encased ass.
And then, at minute seventy-three, things began to change. Through the warm, red glow that seemed to encompass the entire establishment, Heero watched as Duo's body slid from the safe proximity of Trowa and glided, careless and confident, from the bar and towards a corner scattered with nests of chenille armchairs. His sights appeared to be set on someone Heero did not at first recognize, an older boxy looking blond with a sharply sculpted goatee and skin almost as pale as Duo's own.
Before Heero had the chance, Wufei was already tapping a finger to his ear. "Trowa?"
Through both of their earpieces came the soft voice of their comrade. "Erik Kruse," he explained. "The name came up in the 'little black book.' He said you'd know what that means."
Heero watched Wufei's frown manifest quickly, his eyes darting questioningly to his ex-partner. Instead of acknowledging the confusion, Heero ignored it entirely. "Roger," he responded for both of them. "Eyes up."
"Always," came the grunted reply.
"That name rings familiar," he said, turning to Wufei with seriousness in his tone. Now was not the time for a quarrel.
Wufei, probably against his internal judgement, let his argumentative jaw slacken. "He used to run private security for Representative Lindsey, L2."
Right, now Heero remembered the man, having seen and read about him in the news little over a year ago before he'd been extradited to earth and put under a meager six-month house arrest for attempting to 'sell secrets,' or at least that's how the media had spun it.
"He wouldn't know Duo?" he asked, not particularly to Wufei, but more generally to the thick air surrounding them. He knew it wasn't likely, the L2 sector was an expansive cluster, but still it was not impossible if he'd run security when Duo was still an agent.
"Mmm." Wufei's lips pursed. "I wouldn't think Maxwell so stupid as to try and seduce him if he did."
Heero wasn't so sure, but he was inclined to agree with him if only for the sake of clearing his mind of the negative consequences Duo could face in such an act as this; extradited criminal or not, Kruse had at least a hundred pounds on Duo's slight frame and a greasy smile that caused ripples to run beneath Heero's skin.
But it was the way that Duo gazed at the man that had Heero's stomach turning to ice. Predatory was the best word for it, like he was sizing up his next victim- which in reality was not out of the realm of possibility.
He watched as Duo's arm came to rest against the back of the man's chair, his hip cocking to hit against Kruse's shoulder. There were words exchanged, but without audio and at the way Duo had angled himself, it was impossible to know what had been said.
It was Trowa's voice, soft and hollow, that broke Heero away from his intense vision on the security feed as the large man rose from his seated position, eyes drinking in Duo's appearance hungrily.
"They're going to the back rooms," Trowa said, not sounding entirely sure of his position as he had earlier.
Heero watched as the two bodies indeed made their way towards an undisclosed sector of the club, Kruse trailing behind Duo's exaggeratedly swaying hips like an obedient dog.
"Barton?" Wufei's voice was terse coming through the earpiece.
They watched on the monitor as Trowa's vision swept across the room. "I can't follow without a companion." He hesitated for a moment too long. "He's done it on purpose," he explained then, almost knowingly.
Heero growled, but Wufei was restraining him with a sharp hand wrapped around his bicep, as if he'd known the man's first instinct would be to storm into the club, gun's blazing. "No," Wufei muttered only to him. "We have to trust him."
That statement seemed entirely out-of-place coming from where it had. Since when had Wufei ever trusted Duo this implicitly in his entire existence? Heero's hands melded into fists resting atop his knees. This couldn't be happening- Duo couldn't be- not even for the sake of the case. He just couldn't-
"I've got eyes on someone I think you're going to want to see."
Trowa's voice came abruptly once more, though now it was filled with a tone of genuine emotion that it hadn't been before. With a few clicks Heero had brought up the vid-feed attached to the false glasses the man had been made to wear.
There, several paces to the left of his perch, stood a man they'd not seen in some time, not someone they'd ever suspected to be in a place such as this. Certainly not someone that would aid in their little concocted covert mission here.
Heero stared with steely eyes at the man's expensive suit, italian dress-shoes, his notable silver locks, that inscrutable scowl. It was Zechs Merquise.
