Chapter Two
Treize sat on his sofa, shaking nervously, as he watched Wufei pace across his expensive Oriental rug. Wufei couldn't understand why Treize so nervous, he had been the target of attack before. Wufei had witnessed two attacks himself, knowing of many more that occurred during the wars. None of them had taken place while Treize was naked in his bathtub, though.
"Would you be so kind as to fetch me some tea while we wait, Wufei?" Treize asked, voice trembling. Wet, covered in blood and soapy water, he looked quite cold sitting there in nothing but a damp towel.
"Do I look like a maid? Do maids carry guns?" Wufei asked him. After giving him a long, cold stare he resumed his impatient pacing around the living room.
"Well, at least sit down. You're making me nervous. You called the police twenty minutes ago, they'll be here soon enough," Treize grumbled.
It was not the Senator's place to tell him to sit, so he kept pacing. "I didn't call the police. Zechs Marquise and Lucrexia Noyn from Earth Alliance Security are coming to investigate the scene."
"Noyn and Zechs? They run Alliance Security, don't they? I'm surprised that they're coming here. You'd think that they would send some lackey wouldn't you?" Treize commented, trying to make some chatter with Wufei.
Actually, it was not unusual for them to visit a prominent Senator like Treize after such an attack but Wufei decided not the mention that, the Senator's ego was large enough. The silence between them grew thicker until finally there was a knock at the door.
Wufei was relieved to find that Zechs and Noyn at the door with a few others wearing Earth Alliance uniforms, carrying forensics equipment. "Finally," Wufei muttered as a greeting.
"Hello, Chang," Noyn said, smiling, leading her team inside before she and Zechs went to the Senator's side. "Are you alright Senator Kushrenada?" she asked, "will you need medical attention?"
"No. I don't need to go to the hospital. I'll just have some bruises on my throat for a while, that's all," he said, feeling the soreness on both sides of his Adam's apple.
"Well, we'll still want to check your body for poisons. There are some neural toxins which can be transferred through the skin and don't even begin to take effect until hours after the contact," Zechs told him.
Wufei watched as Treize squirmed, pondering that last thought.
Zechs turned his gaze at Wufei. "How was this attack possible? How did this man get this close to Treize? You were on duty, weren't you Chang?"
Wufei squirmed. "Yes, sir. I insisted that I monitor Kushrenada and his 'guest' but I believe that the Senator wanted some privacy. I couldn't convince him otherwise."
Treize looked to Wufei then to Zechs. "It's true. I insisted on some privacy but Wufei waited outside the bathroom for me and when he heard the struggle he came in quickly to save me. Wufei has never been anything less than exemplary in my service."
Wufei felt relieved to be off the hook. He found himself almost returning the gracious smile the Senator shot him.
"So where is the body?" one of the forensics officers asked. They had been wandering the apartment impatiently, eagerly waiting to shine their florescent lights, powder for fingerprints and put bits of hair in labeled plastic bags.
Leading them to the bathroom, he revealed the grisly scene. It would have turned most stomachs, and did elicit a few audible "ewws" from the rookies, but Wufei had seen worse in the wars. It left him wondering if they would ever be able to clean up all the splattered stains and brain fragments.
"Get me an identity scan," Noyn told them.
A forensics guy carefully stepped into the bathroom, rolling latex gloves onto his fingers. The would-be assassin's body was hunched awkwardly over the edge of the tub, his head submerged into the water. Upon lifting his arm from the soapy water and looking at his hands, the officer realized the fingerprint scanner would be useless, the assassin's fingerprints had been burned off. "Sorry, but this guy was a professional. Trained assassin. He even burned his prints off."
"Damn," Noyn muttered. She pulled a small, compact device from her coat. Wufei recognized the contraption as a facial-scanner. It would take a 3-dimensional scan of a target's face before comparing it to all archived scans in the Alliance's criminal databanks. Noyn approached the body, preparing to use it in order to find the assassin's identity but Wufei knew there was a problem…
Half his goddam head is missing!" Noyn shouted. "This could have been an open and shut case and you decided to shoot him in the face! You're better than that! You're trained to shoot for the chest!"
Wufei turned red, searching for some explanation for his behavior. The one he found within himself, that when he saw the Senator in the grips of that killer, something came over him, something he couldn't explain that didn't let him think clearly, he hardly liked. He couldn't tell them that, they wouldn't understand, so he told her, "You would have done the same, I'm sure," the closest he could muster to an apology.
Noyn sighed, "Get this cleaned up boys," she told her crew before turning her disdainful glare at the young bodyguard. Zechs followed suit. "We'll run the man's gene sample through the databanks but if we come up blank, this case will go in the unsolved pile and it will be your fault," Zechs told him. "Don't screw up again, Chang."
Wufei stared at the floor. He didn't take humiliation well.
"I want to hear you say that you won't screw up again," Noyn said.
Wufei didn't respond. He would take their reprimands, but he would not be degraded by anyone, not even his "superiors."
"C'mon, Wufei. Say it. 'I won't screw up again'," she goaded him.
"I won't screw up…" Wufei muttered, swallowing the thick horse pill that was his pride. He reminded himself to put Lucrexia Noyn down on his list of people to kill once he got the chance.
"So, what now?" Treize asked.
Zechs thought for a moment. "I don't want you to leave the city. It's too dangerous. There have been too many assassination attempts against Earth Senators recently. I want you to stay in this area under Wufei's supervision until we can at least run a gene sample through the banks."
Treize frowned. "I can't stay here. I have to leave in two days to go to the Trinity islands. I'm supposed to appear at the Earth Sphere Peace Summit there. I can't miss it."
"You'll have to," Zechs told him.
Wufei had to agree. There had been many assassinations lately. Most recently, Relena Peacecraft was found in her apartment, apparently the victim of a poisoning. The reports said she probably died a painful, excruciating death caused by uncontrollable diarrhea. They found her on the toilet, an issue of Soldier of Fortune resting in her hands, dead. If it wasn't so tragic, it might have been funny.
"I'm a Senator. I wasn't re-elected so I could not do my job out of fear for my life!" Treize told them. "I'm going to Trinity whether you solve the case or not."
Noyn and Zechs grimaced. "If you insist. But we demand that you take Wufei and a team of our best bodyguards with you," Noyn said.
"Fine. I have no problem with that," Treize said.
Treize might not have had a problem with it, but Wufei didn't like the idea too much. "I don't think so. I am quite capable of protecting Senator Kushrenada myself," he told them. "I don't need a group of novices getting in my way and giving me orders."
"Fine. Then we'll put Treize under house arrest for his own protection," Zechs told him. "Unless you go with a group of capable, trained agents who can protect the Senator."
Treize looked at Wufei. "I can fire you, Chang," he warned him.
Wufei could have cared less whether or not he was a bodyguard for a middle-aged pervert, and was about to tell Kushrenada that, when he concocted an idea that might just satisfy everyone, and most importantly, himself. "Alright," he said, "but I get to choose the agents that I bring with me in order to protect Treize. I get to take people who I know will take orders from me."
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Chewing the meat wasn't Trowa's problem. The real problem was chewing the blackened meat, while smiling and feigning enjoyment at the same time.
"What do you think?" Quatre asked, with a steaming pot in one hand, a spatula in the other. He had been cooking non-stop, only taking a break to pop out of the kitchen, reminding Trowa that he had a great meal awaiting him at dinner.
Trowa strained to suppress his gag reflexes. If he didn't tell Quatre it was horrendous there was no telling when Quatre might stop preparing it for him. But to see Quatre's face when he told him that, "It's great darling," made every bite tasty.
"Oh, I'm so glad you like it. And guess what? I'm not even hungry. So you can have the rest and what you don't finish we can put in the fridge because this stuff really preserves well! Oh, I'm so glad you like it Trowa!" Quatre chirped. "We can make it again tomorrow night!"
"No!"
"What do you mean?" Quatre asked him, perplexed.
"I mean…No, I don't want you to stress yourself out. You should really take it easy for a while and just let me order some pizza," he explained. Trowa knew he could take a few servings of whatever kind of meat it was before it would have serious effects on his health.
Trowa suddenly laughed.
"What's so funny?" Quatre asked.
"Oh nothing," Trowa said. But that wasn't true. It was funny to think that there was a time in his life when eating anything at all would have been a blessing. It was funny how easy it was to forget all that, struggling to chew Quatre's mystery meat.
Trowa kissed his little cherub on the head. "I love you Quatre."
"You too, Trowa," Quatre said, curling up beside him. Trowa wrapped an arm around Quatre, taking a moment to enjoy the silence, as he wondered when all these quiet, precious moments would come to crashing to an end.
The phone rang.
"It's probably Duo," Quatre said.
"Yeah," Trowa said, weary. "I don't want to talk to Duo, again. For the fiftieth time today."
"Trowa, he needs us right now."
"I know. If I ever get the chance to see Heero Yuy again…" his voice trailed off as he clenched his fists. "I wonder if he has any idea how much he's hurt Duo?"
"Would he care?" Quatre asked rhetorically.
Trowa turned, hesitantly picking up the phone. "Hello?" he asked.
"Barton," the voice barked. It wasn't Duo.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"It's Wufei Chang," the voice told him.
"Wufei? Really?" Trowa asked. Now that was a surprise! If there were ever a person Trowa never expected to see after the wars it was Wufei Chang. For all he could tell, Wufei hated the other Gundam pilots' guts. Hell, Wufei hated everyone's guts, even his own.
"Yes. It's really Wufei Chang," he snarled.
"I'm sorry Wufei, it's just that after the war you disappeared and never kept in touch with any of us. I just never expected to here from you again."
"Well, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be calling you if I wasn't absolutely desperate after exhausting all my other options," the charming little Gundam pilot responded.
"Gee," Trowa said sarcastically, "nice to here from you again."
There was a slight choking sound on the other end of the phone followed by a prolonged silence. "Is there something you wanted to actually say?" Trowa asked.
"Look," Wufei muttered, "this isn't easy for me but I need to ask you for help. I need professional help."
"I know," Trowa said.
"I mean I need help from a professional!" Wufei shouted.
"Yeah, you do," Trowa told him.
"Shut up you stupid git! I need someone with warrior training and experience. The only reason I came to you is because you are quiet and subservient and I know that you will follow my orders!" Wufei explained.
Trowa considered hanging up.
"Don't hang up!" Wufei warned.
Trowa decided to hear the psychotic little imp out. "What do you need Wufei?"
"I need to assemble a group of professionals who can work as bodyguards for Senator Kushrenada this weekend at the Earth Sphere Summit in the Trinity islands. I came to you because you are capable and talented and the least annoying out of all the pilots. At least, you used to be."
Trowa smiled, that was the closest Wufei had ever come to a compliment. "Sure. I'll come along. But I want to bring Quatre with me," he said. Trowa looked over at Quatre who was waiting anxiously to hear what was going on.
"What is it? Where are we going?" Quatre chirped.
"The Trinity islands with Wufei. Bodyguard work," he said.
"Sounds like fun," Quatre chirped.
Wufei grumbled at the other end. "Sure, bring Winner. But tell him not to chirp too much."
"When should we meet you?" Trowa asked.
"I'll send transportation," Wufei said before hanging up the phone.
Trowa looked at Quatre. "We better get packing," he said. "A beautiful weekend at the tropical Trinity islands awaits us."
"Oh, I hear that they're very romantic," Quatre said, curling up next to Trowa. "I just hope we're not required to do too much work."
"Me too," Trowa told him. It would be nice to do a little mission again and in the meantime enjoy the white sand beaches. He had heard that the Trinity islands were beautiful this time of year.
Trowa went into the bedroom to get their suitcases. He started packing clothes and toothbrushes, as he thought of all the things that they must tend to before leaving.
"I turned the water off," Quatre told him, "and I packed some of your dinner in the Tupperware so you can eat it later." Quatre looked around for a second after hearing a barking in another room. "Here, Princess," he called.
Jangling her bells and collars, Princess, his fluffy golden retriever puppy, ran into his arms, licking his face. Trowa thought that there couldn't be anything cuter than a giggling Quatre holding an insanely happy puppy. It was like one of those Precious Moments greeting card images, that makes you want to puke and smile at the same time.
"Who's going to feed Princess while we're gone?" he asked. Quatre was very concerned with making sure Princess was well cared for. She was bathed daily, ate the most expensive dog food available and received a doggy pedicure every weekend. Quatre looked down at her little wet nose in concern. "Who's going to make sure she washes and is taken care of?"
"Maybe Duo can take her in," Trowa suggested, not realizing what would happen at the mention of the name "Duo." He looked at Quatre, seeing his concern-o-meter spinning wildly out of control.
"Who's going to feed Duo? And make sure he bathes?" asked Quatre. "We can't leave him, Trowa. We have to take him with us."
Trowa reluctantly agreed. "Alright. Give him a call," he said. Trowa couldn't take any more Duo! Since the three of them had moved into the penthouses, he had seen more of Duo than of Quatre. Maybe Duo was in need of some good friends but Trowa was in need of a break!
Quatre dialed his number.
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Duo woke from his sleep on the sofa, swinging his tired legs into yesterday morning's pizza. He didn't mind though, as long as he could still feel his legs he figured he was all right. He stood, rubbing the side of his face, red and sore from being slept on.
Looking around the apartment, cluttered with empty pizza boxes and dirty clothes, he tried to remember what he had been doing. Looking at the television, he remembered watching a talk show when he dozed off. It was about overweight mothers, who were really big losers in high school, that dress too sexy. Some of those mothers really did dress much too sexy, a big problem these days, he thought.
In the corner of his eye, afternoon light streamed through the cracks in the blinds. "Can't have that," he said to himself, as he tightened the blinds, squeezing out the sun. He considered, for a moment, getting showered and dressed, as if the glimpse of sun reminded him there was an outside world where people had to be presentable. But on second thought, he decided it might be easier to lay on the sofa, watching the adult movie channel. After all, it had been a while since he had seen "Frisky Summer 3," and the acting in it was really quite stellar.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Ordinarily it wouldn't have been a problem for him to answer the phone but now, the phone was in the kitchen, at least three whole yards away, simply too far on a Monday morning. He figured after three rings it would turn off. It was probably just a telemarketer. They called a lot, turning out that they were pretty good for conversation every so often.
But it didn't stop after three rings, so maybe it wasn't a telemarketer. Maybe it was Quatre and Trowa. But they never called him; he always called them. So who could it have been? Maybe it was Heero? Maybe he wanted to fix things between them? Or, maybe it was an emergency and Duo was the only person he, injured, bleeding, could turn to?
Duo sprang from the couch, answering the phone. "Hello?" he answered. "Heero, are you alright?"
"Ummm…Duo?" the voice on the other end asked him. It was Quatre.
"Oh…sorry, Quatre. I thought you were someone else," he said.
"I'm not bothering you am I?" Quatre asked.
"Yeah, well I was just reading some Tolstoy before I started exercising. I wasn't really doing anything important. What's up?"
"Trowa and I are going to the Trinity islands this weekend. Wufei Chang called us, wanting help protecting a Senator at the Earth Sphere Summit. Well, we thought we should ask you if you would like to come with us. I thought it might be good for you to get out of your apartment," he explained.
Duo thought it over for a moment. Trinity was a tropical paradise. All sunshine, white sand, and golden men in thongs. It sounded nice, really nice. But Duo didn't know if he was up for it. He'd been feeling rather dumpy lately, seeing beautiful people in beautiful places wasn't going to make him feel any better about himself. "I don't know, Quatre…I just…I'm not feeling up to it."
"Oh, okay," Quatre said. "Trowa wants to talk to you." He transferred the phone to Trowa.
"Duo?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Quatre will be very upset if you don't join us. So pack your bags and be sure to bring a bathing suit. There will be lots of rich politicians there, if you're lucky you can seduce one. We'll be outside." With that he hung up.
Duo sighed. Maybe Trowa was right. The old Duo Maxwell enjoyed missions, adventure, exotic locales and rich men. The new Duo enjoyed porn, pizza and talk shows. There was obviously only one choice to be made.
Duo went to find his suitcase and pack his thong.
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"I've made arrangements, Senator," Wufei told him, shutting down his cell phone, placing it in his pocket. "Quatre Raberba-Winner and Trowa Barton will be joining us in Trinity."
"They're skilled Gundam pilots," Treize said, "but are they skilled bodyguards?"
"I wouldn't call them skilled," Wufei said, "but they're capable."
Treize didn't find that all too reassuring. As much he hated to admit it, he was getting older and less sure he could survive another encounter like the one that evening. He found himself getting softer since the wars had ended, less weary of those around him, altogether more trusting. That was a good way to end up dead.
Treize touched his chest the way someone might pinch himself to make sure they weren't dreaming. Things had happened so fast, he hadn't even taken the time to realize that he was in fact safe, living. He sighed heavily. Wufei turned to look at him.
"What's wrong with you?" he snarled.
"Well, Wufei," he said, "one moment I was sitting there with a gorgeous man, looking at the silver dragon on his back…"
"Silver dragon?" Wufei asked.
"Yeah. He had this tattoo on his back. I had never seen anything like it before, a really intricate dragon design in silver ink. I had just taken the time to look at it and the next thing I know I'm being strangled. It's as if I'll never have the chance to just trust that everything around me is safe. Why must I always be alert? All the time?" he wondered.
"Because if we let our guard down, for even the slightest moment," Wufei said, "that's when the enemy strikes."
Treize sat, watching Wufei for a moment. He eyed his tense, rigid shoulders and back, wondering when Wufei last let his guard down.