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Author's Thought: Ya know fandom peers, I love Yaoi and everything that comes along with it... almost. I was watching Dexter's Laboratory... smiling all the way, because it's funny in a stupid way that I just can't get enough of. Then I was struck with an odd pairing, Dexter by Mandark. EW! You know what? It is just so wrong on so many levels. There are only two existing slash pairings that make me squirm (IN A BAD WAY): Harry/Ron (Harry Potter), and Dexter/Mandark (Dexter's Laboratory).
Author's Note: Nothing special... but I would like to remind everyone about the warnings that are on this fic for good reasons. NON-CONSENSUAL SEX! (Yes, if you don't like it, I am very sorry to loose readers, but it exists in this fic) ANGST, and questionable dialogue.
WARNING: LONG!!!
Disclaimer: (Wufei: Holds up a sign relaying the fact that Redd DOES NOT OWN Gundam Wing to uphold the (in)justice of the fandom realm)
(~-~ I know this is a slow moving story, but I'm having issues with where I want it to go! LoL. Writing isn't a problem, moving is!) Now on with Name me Your God PART 8
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The not so scenic fish bowl screen dissolved into a black instructional screen with pale blue lettering for vid-phone usage.
Please enter the destination you would like to connect to ground level number first followed by sector code, area number, phone number, and recipient's residential key.
2-203-360-943-9823 | SHIGI
Now connecting, thank you.
Heero watched with a passive expression as image he was well acquainted with materialized. In the upper left hand corner it said: The personage you were trying to reach is unavailable (REC. TIME 4 minutes and 23 seconds) If you would like to continue to the message center please touch the screen.
The smooth face looking at him was grinning boyishly and waving his hand, "Hey, Hola, Aloha, Konnitiwa, Bon Jour, D-"
"Duo you are using up all my recording time, move." Heero was saying the background trying to get a good look from behind his lover.
Duo shrugged and turned his attention back to the monitor, "Hey you've reached the bland residence of one Mr. Heero Yui-"
"Duo, let me do my own recording." Heero voice was agitated with humor.
"No, they'll take one look at your eternal expression of grumpiness and hang up. You'll never get any messages. Why would they wanna look at you when they could look at me resident hotness." He said with a rhetoric matter of factness.
Heero's gaze tightened, he had been wanting to laugh. In the beginning of the relationship that glimmer in his own eyes was as foreign to him as pizza; but both Duo had introduced then reinforced in his life.
"Fine." The recorded Heero said stalking off screen.
Duo's eyes followed Heero with an odd amount of appreciation and lust in his eyes. "Anywho..." Duo whistled, "He is unavailable..."-A wink-"or currently indisposed. Leave a quick vid and number, and I'll make sure he gets it! Bye, Bai Bai, Sayoonara, Aloha, aurevoir, N-"
"Duo!"
Duo ducked below the camera's range, a rolled up tube sock zipping across the screen. His head popped back up over the table with a seductive smirk, and a salute. "Thanks, Zya!"
Would you like to continue to replay the recorded away message, or would you like to move onto the message center?
...For the fifty-third time that day, Heero brushed his shaking fingers over the replay censor.
"Hey, Hola, Aloha..."
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"Stare any harder at that wall, and it'll burst into flames."
Trowa had been supporting his head in his hand and had been concentrating on the barrier for well over an hour trying to advert his thoughts from a certain flaxen haired man, and the mess he wanted to make out of his 'other' coworker. "Huh?"
Eyeing him with a wufei-ly concern was...Wufei of course. "Shall I call the fire department?"
Uncertain of what to make of Wufei's bout of not so appropriate humor, Trowa just gawked.
His friendly gesture was forgotten, his unnatural demeanor shredded by a business-like posture he had probably mastered by the time he was able to say Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch at the age of 2 in his ancient cultures and countries class; Trowa speculated. "She's ready for you in there, you're first." Trowa rose from his chair and headed for the ominous polished door of the infirmary. "Good luck." Came an almost inaudible Wufei behind him.
With silence on his mind, Trowa shut the world out with a twist of a knob and turned to face the painfully merry face of Dr. Winner. One of Quatre's many sisters, the only one who looked nothing like him, but managed to embody his powerful light in her smile. Probably a recessive trait, he noted.
"Hello Mr. Barton. It's nice to see you again. Would you please have a seat? I have a few short questions. They're personal... given the nature of this problem, once the session begins you are obligated to answer truthfully all questions asked of you. Understood?" She said quietly, almost sadly.
Trowa nodded and sat down.
The doctor turned her clipboard over in her hands, and then looked back up her eyes glazing with tears. "You where personal friends with one Mr. Maxwell?"
"Yes."
Dr. Winner whipped a tear from her cheek, and looked down at her hands dripping with guilt. "Trowa... you know I have to ask things about you... and Quatre... and maybe share things with you don't want to hear? I'm sorry... but this is my job... to search out souls... see people's nature... intentions... their heart... their mind..."-a human lie detector, so sensitive to feelings some called her psychic, she far surpassed her younger brother's abilities, or had until recently-"right?"
"It's understood."
Breathing heavily, she leaned back into her chair, rubbing the soft of her hand against her oddly round face. "Trowa how was the air between you and Duo?"
"Please be more specific."
Dr. Winner bobbed her head, "I'm sorry, let me rephrase that questions." When she locked eyes with him her eyes where bear of emotion, she was empty and willing to receive. "Given any knowledge you had of Quatre's affair with the demised, Duo Maxwell, how did you feel towards him? React?"
Under her dead gaze, Trowa's already wounded heart froze, and for some strange reason, he still held Heero responsible as it shattered and scattered across his vision.
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The late Mr. Winner had been very proud of his daughter Mary, she was quiet, talented, receptive, and honest. For some reason though, he had separated her from Quatre in the strictness sense. Quatre always felt as thought she was reaching for him across contents; her power wasn't a glimmer of something like his. He was just slightly abnormal she was supernatural. Maybe that's why...
Quatre looked up to meet Trowa's ambivalent gaze, he had been in there a little of 3 hours and was just now coming out. Without a word, he removed himself and wondered aimlessly down the hall furthest from his own station. Destroyed....
Hesitantly, Quatre walked into the office and shut the door. Quietly at the desk, Mary sat sobbing. "Mary...?" He whispered unsure of his own voice and it's impact. "Mary, are you okay?"
"Fine, fine, fine..." She muttered trying to sound dismissive. "How are you?" Slowly his sister peeled her eyes up from the ground and stared at him. "You are so pale... not well."
Immediately he was lost in the bottomlessness of her dark blue eyes, they were depths darker than his own, worlds apart from any he had ever seen. He had forgotten how intrusive they were. Since their father's death, Dr. Mary Winner, age 29 had been working for the government, a prodding device.
"Sit, please, Quatre... and please... be honest with me...."
Quatre nodded, he was honest by nature.
"Don't lie to me..." She murmured her eyes dimming. "Quatre, please tell me about your decision to go to war?"
"What does that have to do with Duo?"
"Let me repeat that question. Quatre, please tell me about your decision to go to war."
"I-..." What was his decision? "Can we come back to this so I can think please, Mary?"
"Alright I will pass over the first few pages of questions and go to Duo Maxwell related inquiries." Dr. Winner said leafing through a few pages before she came to a halt and gave a strained sigh. "Is (or was) there any reason you would have to dislike Mr. Maxwell in anyway, because of Heero maybe? Or Trowa your current boyfriend?"
"Oh god..."
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Much of what he speculated to be the afternoon, but actually was early to late morning Duo spent thinking about Heero. His thoughts rolled inside his mind, hitting one mental barrier and then slamming into another. It's not that he had lost his memory, but really, he had just lost his will to recall most basic things. He felt like a caged dragon, his wings thinning from neglect, the polished scales of his breast caked with dirt, cracking before the fell off with a clack onto the ground. Man... It sucked having an over active imagination when you where cooped up in the worlds creepiest mausoleum.
After a while, Duo recognized the sound of the door opening and shutting. Shifting his attention from the large canopy to the new occupant, he bolted up. It was the girl!
"Hello, Duo." She said with a sweet sadness laced in her voice.
Suppressing the urge to smother the light with a bear hug, Duo forcefully seated himself and watched her. Nothing had resembled her warmth since he arrived inside... wherever he was.
"Your hair... is a mess." She said touching her own short wild tresses. "Come here, let me brush it for you."
Deferentially, Duo obliged the young girl, and moved to the chair where he had first really noticed her presence. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" She asked, suddenly smiling, giddy with the prospect of him having enough energy to converse with her.
Duo nodded his head, "Yeah, it does."
"You have such a lovely voice." She said thinly. "My name is Thea."
"Nice to meet you Thea." Duo said to cover up his loss for words, she hardly looked old enough to have such a provocative name... then again, she did happen to remind him of another intruder, one who left his mark on the sensitive flesh of his neck. Same blue eyes... same hair... Maybe they where siblings? Duo concluded. "I can braid my own hair, though, I've been doing it for years."
Thea's small hands recoiled from his messy plait like she had been jerked back by a leash, "It seems you will be. I'm being called, I will see you soon... Duo Maxwell."
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"Dante... you're so very pretty... so very pretty, in deed." Shinigami murmured running her white fingers down the young man's taunt flesh, "Like Duo... What do you think of him my doll?" She whispered carving a thin line down his pelvic bone with her seriated fingernail with possessively.
A pained gasp tore from his lips, his pale blonde hair falling from his tightly closed eyes.
"I knew you'd like him..." Retracting her body from his, Shinigami rose from the cold floor, and saunter over to the entrance of her sitting area and pressed herself against the cool stones.
Starring at her from the hall, were two feral brown eyes, sharp like glass trying to slice at her empty veins. "Alex." She laughed. "You just missed... the most fun... I've had in a while." Stalking past her, the interluder stopped short of the writhing body on the floor. "You know the rules, Alex." She purred, "You can't touch him... till you touch me... want me."
Again those darkened orbs fastened onto her with venomous abhorrence, "Death bows to no one."
Laughing, Shinigami reseated herself next to her pet, "Bitter, bitter... Alex... but you're not death anymore, and never will be again."
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TBC...
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|ALWAYS read the ending notes and such|
Ending Note:
Stay tuned for part nine coming up soon. It's time for some healthy dosing of Duo Maxwell's POV (point of view). ~-~ Please people; keep me updated on my grammar and such. I am so paranoid about how much I suck at it. Gah. ^-~ So just about Duo in part nine. As for part ten...Quatre's is found mentally unstable...and Trowa does something regrettable and extremely OOC! And what? Wufei in tears? Hehe. Ohhh yeah, buddy!
QUESTION: When I say: He said with a rhetoric matter of factness. Can anyone think of a better way to say it? Factness really...I don't even think is a word. ~_~
About the vocabulary word:
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch is really a word; rather it's the name of a village in whales. It was that or the word antidisestablishmentarianism, which means opposition to the disestablishment of the Church of England.
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****PLEASE go ahead and check out other stories by me and then review. NMYG has out ranked in reviews by far… those other poor pathetic fics. Hey, the song fic Thank You has made two of my friends' cry; so in whole it can't be that bad. Closer is just deranged… in a tasty dirty way. Pretty, Pretty needs help. Forever repenting is fine, but I need a beta because I'm really confused (read the AN for that fic and you'll understand).
Also, keep an eye out for my new fic mOBSCENE… it will be a series fic inspired by Marilyn Manson's songs: mOBSCENE (of course), and This is The New Shit.
"Babble babble, bitch bitch, rebel rebel, party party, sex sex sex, and don't forget the violence… blah blah blah!" Man I love that song. –This is the New Shit-