tantrys - ffiction - stop the world - 9

Stop The World
9


Shounen ai Gundam Wing
Warnings: Shounen ai. POV switching.
I'm getting spooked-- I've never done a mystery and I'm panicking. ::cries:: Forgive me for any errors, I'm trying to write this as fast as I can so I won't forget everything -_-*






PART 9

"Which one is no mayo?" Wufei's annoyed grunt broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two investigators. Trowa grabbed the fast food bag from Wufei's fumbling hand, and pulled out the sandwich clearly marked with a 'no mayonnaise' sticker. Wufei took it wordlessly, and with an expert's ease unwrapped it with his teeth while steering the car in a familiar route.

"I think," Wufei began around his first bite, "if you pry a little more after the blonde--"

"Quatre," Trowa corrected. Wufei nodded absently and continued forcefully.

"If you dig, *Quatre*, will eventually crack. He seems weak."

Trowa shifted in the passenger seat to give Wufei a searching look. He can't believe that about *Quatre*. He said as much aloud.

"He's stronger than he looks." Trowa offered a gentle, knowing grin. "You know better than to underestimate anyone." He wasn't answered. Wufei pressed the brakes slightly and swerved to parallel park in front of Horizons, and only a few feet from a pair of figures just exiting the novelty store.

"Looks like big mouth and the new guy are stepping out," Wufei observed blandly. He snapped off his seat belt and pushed open his door. Trowa followed suit, and approached the pair in step with his partner.

"'Evening," Wufei began coolly. He watched as Duo Maxwell's smile grew ten fold. A hint of unease filled the seasoned investigator. That smile is way, way too amused.

"Hey, Mr. Wufei, Mr. Barton!" Duo crowed. He wrapped a friendly arm around his quiet friend and laughed easily. "Fancy meeting you here!" His next laugh was purposely forced. "We see you so infrequently!"

Wufei offered a distanced scowl to the talkative man. I knew he'd say something smart, to put me in a bad mood. "We'll try to come around more often, and be more sociable," he growled. "Right now, Mr. Maxwell, we need to ask you a few more questions."

Duo sighed loudly, and hung playfully off of his friend's shoulders. His statement, however, was far from playful. It was annoyed. "Why so many questions, officer? *Why* so spread apart?"

"... We get new developments," Trowa supplied solicitously. Duo's gaze switched over to the less abrasive investigator, but the look wasn't any less brazen. "And sometimes important aspects are remembered after the crime, when the victims' lives return to a more normal state..."

Duo's gaze remained on Trowa's solemn, trustworthy face for a moment longer, then moved to Wufei's. One arched eyebrow was raised.

"How come you can't make stuff simple like that?" Duo snorted, then laughed outright as Wufei fumed. "All right, keep your pants on, Mr. Wu--"

"WuFEI," he snarled. Duo sighed dramatically and straightened, neatening his friend's shirt casually.

"I do remember something." The steam from Wufei's ears dissipated, and Duo continued quietly. "The club we're going to... Iria used to hang out there, every now and then." He shrugged slowly, and winked at Wufei. "That enough for you today, Wufei?"

I'm changing my name, Wufei decided silently. But he managed to nod once. "Where is it?"

Duo's evil smirk returned. He pointed down the street, then pulled his hand back to cup his chin. "We, Heero and I, were just about to hoof it on down there." His indigo gaze narrowed as he eyed Wufei's innocent, sleek black car, cooling in its nearby parking space. "Why... don't you give us a ride? It'll take half as much time and you can ditch us at the door!"

Trowa grinned as Wufei sputtered and suffered, while Duo sidled up to his car and opened the back door. He shoved his friend in and dove in after. A short exclamation about how soft the leather was made Wufei turn green. He gave Trowa a haunted look.

"I'll assume you're staying to interrogate the blonde. Leaving me with.. with..." He didn't finish the sentence. Trowa gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and watched them pull away. I have to give Duo credit, Trowa mused. He's the *only* person I've ever met that can do that, to Wufei... The car's brakes screeched once before it turned the corner and disappeared.

Trowa turned, shaking his head in disbelief. He noticed, as he opened the door to the shop, that the bells didn't ring. Once glance confirmed that they'd been muffled for the night. He stepped further out onto the shopping floor and paused. A small, golden head was bowed over the cashier's counter.

As he neared, Trowa remained silent. The soft sound of breathing was sweet, and hypnotic...













Damn her... He fumed, and swung violently at the air. Tearing the clouds into shreds with his fingers. Persisitent... *bitch*.... She'd always been resourceful. Sharp, and shrewed. She'd made her choice ages ago, and had fallen. For love, he scoffed. One of the most impossible of human emotions. Too pure. He drew his palms into fists and growled at the space of the heavens.

Love is for inferior humans. It's all they have, before death. They think it softens the inevitable. He laughed loudly, alternating the heavenly sound with harsh screams, and drawing the pitch higher into a shrill scream. It just makes death worse. Darker in comparison. Love isn't eternity-- Death is!

"The fallen die," he murmured darkly. His fists opened, and relaxed. The fingers twirled calmly in the cloud-like mist... "They die..."













It was with great fervor that Wufei elbowed open the door to the humming night club. It swung open with a protesting groan, and he fell in, stumbling further inside. He straightened quickly and whirled around to give Duo and I one last glare.

Duo winked once, and I watched him antagonize the investigator with a flirty wave. Wufei, however, would have none of it. He melted into the impressive crowd. My eyes widened as they left his retreating figure and wandered. There were... so many people...

"We'll take it in stride, buddy," Duo belted in my ear. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled us both toward the counter covered in empty glasses and reeking of alcohol. I eased myself onto one stool and he sat beside me happily. The bartender offered us two full glasses of a foamy substance. Duo nodded eagerly and was downing the tan liquid before the glass touched the bar.

"Woo," he exclaimed after taking a deep breath. His eyes sparkled with the lights that flashed in time to the music. "Drink up. My mission is to get you drunk enough to talk as much as I do!"

I think... that he's going to be the one that gets that drunk, I thought. I gave a little more credit to my hypothesis as he ordered another glass, and finished it off as well.

"How long have you been in town?" He asked suddenly. He perched neatly on his bar stool and propped his elbow on the counter. His gaze was bright and interested in my response. Much less than I was.

"Four days," I answered softly. Duo raised his eyebrows at me, and continued his rather one sided conversation.

"How do you like the city, so far?" He grinned cheerfully. "Pretty happenin' place huh? You made any friends? 'Sides me 'n Quatre, of course."

His slurred speech did nothing to slow down his eagerness for answers. I answered negatively, and watched him watch me with a half grin on his face...

"Do you dance?"

I gave him a confused look. Dance? Then my gaze strayed to the dance *floor*... Night club inhabitants moving to the rapid beat of an exotic melody, unlike anything I'd ever heard, or seen... Or felt.

"You are way too quiet," Duo murmured suddenly. He hummed deep in his throat, and I felt a small shiver begin in my spine... He had leaned over to this whisper in my ear... "Against my better 'judgment'," he hiccuped, "I'll go out first... You can join me if you want?" He gave an inebriated nod and dove into the mass of bodies. They embraced Duo, or he them, I couldn't tell which... But I watched.

How can they live with... with such abandon? Like the world wasn't turning under their feet? I was riveted to my chair as bodies, hundreds or maybe just tens, turned to a beat that I wasn't so sure was the music. The motor of the world,[1] I assumed... I caught Duo's eye suddenly, and he waved enthusiastically, urging me to join him... But I was content to keep my distanced vigil...

They're all beautiful, I realized, a little shocked. Just because they're living in the moment-- reckless... and free... I frowned. Where was Duo--

"Hey 'ey, Heero. I hate waiting. C'mon--" He was at my side, pulling on my arm again, dragging me into the dancers with more strength than I had accredited him. I felt his hands, warm and firm, guiding me into the deepest scene.

"Hey," I felt him whisper. He wrapped both arms around my back and leaned close, pressing his soft lips to my ear. "Don't look like that-- like you're lost, or something... 'Cause you're not." He laughed deeply once, and the hot sound made me shiver. "You're with me. Now enjoy the moment, Heero!"

I let out a surprised sound as he pulled me close, chest to chest and his cheek to mine. His hands were clutched at the tense space between either shoulder... Where my wings had been, and where only pain remained... My breath caught as Duo's fingers moved gently against the muscle over my upper spine... the pain faded, if only for a moment...













Just when I think everything about this case is as screwed up as it can get, this new guy shows up. Heero. Lieutenant Chang snorted softly. The guy was quiet. Too quiet, and mysterious... I doubt research could find anything solid on him.

"Help you?" Wufei wrinkled his nose as the bartender belched after his offer. Cool onyx eyes zeroed in on the obese man wearing a tight heather gray shirt that should have been illegal as it tucked itself firmly between rolls of fat located randomly around the man's midsection.

Snapping out his wallet and badge, Wufei initiated the no-nonsense-I-want-answers-now approach he'd devised during his hellish car ride here. "I've got a few questions."

The bartender's flat brown eyes widened. With greedy interest. Wufei resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and continued.

"I'm investigating the murder of a woman by the name of Iria Winner. I've been told she wasn't a regular here, but maybe you'd remember her?" Another swift twitch of his hand had a clear, color portrait of the late Iria Winner, smiling and laughing, not a week before her death.

The bartender leaned close to the photo, and scratched the back of his neck in thought. Several seconds of irritating scratching noises later, he straightened.

"Sure. Saw her like, two weeks ago." His face twisted up in a wrinkle wrought grimace. "Can't believe she's dead. Sick world, man."

Wufei agreed silently. Very sick. "Two weeks ago? Was she with anyone else?" He twisted around and pointed out a very prominent dancer, one with a slim gyrating body and a long braid. "How about him?"

"Duo? Yeah, sure. He comes in all the time..." Wufei watched the rotund man pause, and scratch again at that mystery itch on his neck. His flakey brows furrowed in scrupulous Neanderthal speculation... "There was another guy too. Real ladies' man. With like, white hair almost. I think he was pickin' up on her, Iria, too."

Wufei's attention sharpened. A description! As much of one as we're going to get, anyway-- "Can you give me a name? Anything else about the way he looked, or acted? Did he have an accent?"

"Whoa," the bartender protested. He held up two beefy hands and offered a sheepish grin to Wufei's eager barrage of questions. "Like I said, it was two weeks ago. I barely remembered he had white hair..." Something akin to deep thought flashed across the man's weathered face. Wufei waited eagerly... "But I remember the girl-- Iria-- called him somethin' really bizarre. Like a street name, maybe..."

"Do you know anyone else who might have any information? Other friends, another worker here--"

"Nah. I'm the only one runnin' this joint. An' Iria pretty much stayed to herself, and her friends. I remember thinkin' that wasn't right, her bein' such a nice piece of work--"

"Thank you." Wufei interrupted. "Mr..."

"Ralph," the bartender beamed. "Just Ralph! Glad I could help! Poor chick. I knew that dude wasn't right for her-- he was like... He never let her out of his sight. Damn, what was his name?"

Wufei offered a thin, slightly pained smile and pulled out one of his office cards. He slid it across the bar and tapped it pointedly. "Please, call me if you remember anything."

"Flex? Nah... Okay!... Was it... Pecks? It had an S in it--" A sudden light appeared in Ralph's eyes, making them twinkle with delight. His version of an epiphany. "Zechs. I knew it was weird. Zechs; she called him Zechs!"

Finally, something concrete. "You're sure?" Wufei watched as Ralph nodded emphatically. "Zechs, spelled Z-e- oh you wouldn't know." Ralph nodded again, and watched the Lieutenant make a small notebook materialize from beneath his trench coat. A pen flashed into being as well, and Wufei jotted down the note eagerly.

"Thank you, Ralph," Wufei declared sincerely. He glance down to the end of the bar, and stared. "One more question." His pen angled in the same direction of his gaze, and Ralph turned attentively. "Have you ever seen the guy at the end of the bar, with the messy hair?"

"Nah. He's with Duo though, isn't he?" Ralph twisted his head back to a less strenuous degree, and found the Lieutenant moving away, melting into the sea of dancers.

Wufei fled from his interrogation and offered one last glance toward Heero. Duo was pulling him onto the dance floor with drunken zeal. As Wufei moved deeper into the crowds his perspective vanished, and his body slithered between the dancers, heading for the door.

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End part 9

[1] This line is borne from the summary of a book I have yet to read. Titled, 'Atlas Shrugged', author Ayn Rand. Lovely writer. Quite an influence to my style... -_- But you can't really tell...