Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine, despite all my wishing that it was. I also do not own "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" nor do I own Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "Mycroft Holmes".
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
It was warm in the small cellar. All about him was the sent of disuse and decay, mingled with the smell of ash and soot from the glowing furnace. Duo swung the iron door open and a blast of heat filled the air forcing him to take a step back.. He smirked and hefted the last body into furnace to begin cremation. Like the three before it the corpse lit up like a match and began to flail about. Duo shook his head and closed the door on the thrashing corpse.
"I can't wait until Heero learns enough self control not to drain every last drop and infect the corpses," Duo muttered under his breath.
Duo waited a few minutes until the noise inside the furnace died off and then he turned and headed upstairs. He was met at the top of the staircase by his ward, the fledgling vampire Heero Yuy who was holding Duo's duffel bag at arms length like a plague victim.
"Relax, it can't hurt you," Duo chided as he snatched the bag from the others hand.
"Let me guess, family heirloom?" Heero responded dryly.
"Yeah, something like that," Duo replied opening the duffel.
The two stood in silence as the vampire watched the bare chested were dig through his precious bag. He was once again mesmerized by the enormous life energy the other radiated like the sun. Duo showed no signs of the bite he had received earlier that evening; no sign of wooziness from the pint of blood he lad lost; no signs of fatigue from lugging four bodies through the wood two under each arm; no sign of distress at having to feed living humans to a vampire, and then disposing of the leftovers when he was done. He was vibrant, alive in ways Heero had never seen any living thing be before. How could someone like that stand to serve someone who's survival depended on snuffing that life from others?
"There it is," Duo cried out triumphantly, pulling something that looked like a black rag out of his bag.
"You made me go and fetch your . . . duffel, out of that- car - which I still refuse to call a vampire limo - for a bit of torn black cloth?" Heero snorted, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"Hey this isn't just any piece of black cloth," Duo protested pulling the tattered T-shirt on, "This is an official Grateful Dead concert shirt from their last tour. It's a collector's item!"
"Yes, but if you insist on wearing it, the trash man won't be able to collect it," Heero snorted.
Duo shrugged, his infectious grin spreading, "I thought you of all people would appreciate the irony of a man like myself being a Dead Head."
"Is this some kind of play on words on my un-dead status?" Heero frowned
"Forget it," Duo shrugged, "let's just say that this shirt has sentimental value to me and move on, ok?"
Heero nodded solemnly, "Acceptable. Now, can you finally tell me who owns a home in the middle of London park, and why is it that they allowed you to enter and dispose of bodies here?"
Duo's grin widened. "Didn't you know that this is one of the Winner holdings?"
Heero's eyebrows raised slightly in recognition. "Surely you don't mean the Winner Family?"
"Yep, the one and the same. It seems that this house, and all of the parklands around it are his. When the city founders built this city, he refused to sell his land, and any who tried to encroach on it disappeared, never to be seen again. Eventually the city grew up around it and he graciously allowed the city folk to enjoy his woods, at their own risk of course. To this day the park is a kind of taboo land that only the desperate or the ignorant ever enter willingly."
"But the Winner Family doesn't live in London, they are currently living somewhere in the Middle East."
Duo shrugged, "I'll take your word for it, I never did take much interest in that set. What's your point?"
"Who's the caretaker of this house?"
"Ah, just some ancient mariner, I think he said his name was . . . ."
"Samuel Taylor, but most folks just call me Sam." Replied a voice from the other side of the house.
The man at the far end of the room was leaning on the door sill with an air of indifference. He was dressed in a rather tattered maritime outfit that Heero could not readily recognize. He had a red scarf holding back his disheveled and matting hair away from a narrow face accented by a long thin mustache and a goatee braided into twin braids. His loose cotton shirt fell open to mid chest revealing a most disturbing necklace.
"Is that man wearing a dead albatross around his neck?" Heero said in a disgusted undertone to Duo.
Duo quickly caught Heero's eye and tried to signal him to be silent, something Heero promptly ignored. "Sam, why are you wearing a dead albatross around your neck?"
"Ah my young lad, I'm so glad you asked me that," The mariner said as he staggered towards the two men.
"What's wrong with him? Is he drunk?" Heero asked Duo softly.
"Oh, do you mean why is he doing this?" Duo asked mimicking Sam's staggering gate for a moment, "I suspect it has something to do with wandering around for untold years with a dead albatross around his neck, heavy things albatrosses."
"Ah," Heero nodded..
It took Sam a full five minutes to make his way to the pair of men by the basement door. He flashed a smile that would make a dentist cringe to Duo.
"I knew you could not get enough on my story lad, and now you've brought me a new audience as well," Sam said.
"You know me, I'm jut a glutton for punishment," Dup quipped halfheartedly.
"At where to begin?" He cleared his throat and in a tone strong and rich began his tale. "It is an ancient mariner . . . ."
Duo groaned and thought of ways to get back at Heero for making him sit through this story again.
Hours Later . . . . . . . .
" . . . . a sadder and a wiser man, he rose the morrow morn" Sam finished somberly.
"Ah," Heero nodded sagely, "wouldn't have been far simpler to just say that the albatross you wear around is part of a curse you have to bear?"
"Aye lad that it would be, but it's damned hard to find someone to talk to when you are wearing a dead bird about yer neck."
Duo clapped his hands together once and the two men turned and stared. "Well Gentlemen, now that the night has been wasted, I propose we put our UV challenged friend here into the spare room. Dawn is just thirty minutes away."
"But of course, were be my manners." Sam chuckled. "Come along youngster, lets get you tucked in for the day."
Duo supervised the preparations and made certain the room was sealed up good and tight. Contrary to popular mythology, sunlight could not destroy a vampire, but it could reduce one to dust and that meant gathering up all the ash and then reanimating it with some blood at nightfall. It was a royal pain in the ass, and he did not want to have to sweep and reanimate his ward if was at all possible to avoid it.
I'll try not to go to pieces on you, Heero teased Duo mentally.
Damn straight you will, Duo retorted. Get some sleep, I've got an apartment to go set up, and I bet you didn't even drive my car here did you?
Sorry . . . . . Heero's voice faded from his mind. Dawn had arrived.
"Well Sam, I'd best be on my way, long hike back to the car you know," Duo said, slinging the duffel over his shoulder.
"Are you sure you can't stay and chat for a while?" Sam asked sadly
"No time for that, I've gotta get going before my neighbors get suspicious. See you tonight Sam," Duo waved heading for the door. "I'll be back before dusk."
Duo let himself out the front door and breathed a sigh of relief, that man could talk for days. The mansion had been built as a house, then had been modified into a stone tower fortress, much like the fabled tower of London. It had been the style back then, and most wealthy families who could afford to do it did. The Winners were no exception. Unlike the tower of London, the outer defensive wall was still intact and - except for a few modern changes - as forbidding as ever. Privacy was an essential to the Winners and their guests. He quickly crossed the manicured lawns to the side gate that exited to the park and made his way to the wood beyond.
Morning fog still clung to the woodland, like a mother refusing to accept her child was growing up. All around scattered birdsong filled the air, filing the stillness with the song of life, of rebirth. Duo stopped and took it all in, the cool mist . . . the trees . . . the song . . . then the smell of last night's kills reached his nose. The enormity of what he had done hit him like an oncoming car. Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes as he remembered the four youths he had led to their demise in this wood. He made no attempt to stop their warm salty flow. Even though the four boys had most likely ended many lives in these woods, and wrecked countless more, each had once had a mother, and Duo cried for their loss.
They were predators, he told himself, scum who preyed on the helpless and the weak. Scum like that need to be purged from society, because it was scum like that took . . . Duo shuddered once, and then steeled his resolve once more. Enough tears for those scum, they would have shed none for him after they had beaten or slain him. He closed himself off from the pain, closed his eyes and opened his senses to the wood. Cool mist lightly caressed his tear streaked face and exposed arms, sending a small shiver down his spine. Woodland sounds caressed his tired ears with the life and vitality of the woods. Gentle tendrils of scent reminded him of the forests back home and the days of good hunting with the pack. The smell of death was in those woods also, only they were the hunters, and the game of the woods their prey.
Duo's instincts took over, moving him through the woods with feline grace towards the city on the other side. Be fore he knew it the sounds of the city began to wash over him, bathing his ears with their white oblivion. His mind snapped back into clear focus as he drew near the city and nonchalantly stepped onto the city streets and blended in with the normal citizens of London. It took him a half hour to reach his apartment that he had just leased yesterday. It was located on 222 Baker St, and it had taken Heero's connections to pull it off.
Parked in front of was Duo's vampire limo he had affectionately named Scythe. It was a 1956 Vintage Hearse, pained glossy black with thick black drapes covering the long back viewing windows. Ornate filagree etching scrolled around the borders of the three rear viewing window's giving the appearance of layer of frost about the edges. A pair of stylized vintage hurricane lamps hung from either side of the rear loading gate, giving the rear of the car the appearance of an old world stage coach. On the hood was a small chromed skull with red LED's in the eye sockets that lit up whenever the car was started. Duo smiled and ran his hand over the hood lovingly.
"I'd watch those hands if I were you," a voice called out from behind him.
He turned to see an imposing figure of a man sitting on the steps of the flat next to his. Duo had wanted desperately to get his flat so that could claim he lived at 221 Baker St, but the current tenant had stubbornly refused to move.
"Is it yours?" Duo asked with a grin.
"No," the man replied, "it's my neighbor's, and I will ask you to keep your hands off it."
Duo's smile broke like the dawn of a new day, "You must be Mycroft. I"m Duo Maxwell, your next door neighbor."
Mycroft's shook his head and laughed, "I should have guessed, you look just as crazy as your car."
Duo shrugged and offered his hand to the other man, "Guilty as charged. I'm an aspiring archaeologist with a passion for all things ancient."
Mycroft shook it, "Well, that explains the vintage of the car, but what it doesn't explain is: why a hearse?"
"Ah," Duo grinned, "you haven't met my roommate."
"Roommate?" Mycroft questioned. "What kind of roommate requires a hearse?"
"One that's been dead for several thousand years," Duo stated flatly.
"A Mummy." he said nodding, "Then you must have a mummy case as well, which would explain the need for a car with reinforced rear suspension and a cargo space large enough to carry a coffin - or to be more precise - sarcophagus."
"Whoa, check out the big brain on Mycroft! Are you some kind of detective?" Duo asked impressed.
"In a manner of speaking. I do some freelance consulting for Scotland Yard now and again. It's more of a hobby really."
"What do you do for a living?"
Mycroft shrugged, "Read, play bridge or chess, oh yes, and the occasional consulting job for Scotland Yard. You see, I'm what you might call a Gentleman of Means."
Duo whistled appreciatively, "Well, I got an inheritance from my grandfather when he died so that I could follow my dream of becoming an archeologist. In fact, he's where I got Ramses!"
"I hate to be the one to tell you, but I'm sure they have Ramses in the Cairo Museum."
Duo's smile brightened, "I know that now, but when I was younger my grandfather insisted that's who it was and the name kind of stuck. I'll introduce him to you tomorrow, after finish getting him unpacked. He's a fragile old man and even with a classy ride like this I have to pack him carefully for transit to insure he doesn't get damaged.."
"I'll look forward to it. Don't worry about your car, I'll keep my eye on it."
"Thanks man, I've got quite a bit of unpacking to do. I'll see you later!"
Mycroft watched the younger man bound up the small flight of steps and into his flat. There was more to his story then he is letting on, he decided inwardly, His new neighbor might prove to be interesting after all. He would have to wait and see.
