Kandice: Sorry for the long than usual delay. As of a while back, it's now officially just me writing. Kassidy has left for college. I've been kind of blue lately, but I'm getting over it slowly. I think I'm going to focus most of my time on this story and not 'Thicker Than Blood'. It's just not as popular, and it's not as easy to write for me. So... let me know how you like it. Please. I really need to hear feedback.
By Any Other Name
"Quatre... I don't think I can do this."
Trowa had reluctantly agreed to 'do a reading' for the detectives, but he was skeptical about it and maybe even a bit frightened. He didn't usually put himself in a position for the influx of information that always followed touch. In fact, he usually avoided it at all costs.
"Trowa, I'll be right here the whole time. Right beside you. There's nothing to worry about. Just think about it like you're reading me. A library, remember? You can do this."
Trowa looked at Quatre, and once again Quatre had that strange feeling that maybe Trowa liked him in a different way than 'just friends', but he pushed that aside. He would dwell on that later. Not now. Right now, Trowa needed his support.
A uniformed officer stopped them at the door when they tried to pass.
"Just who do you think you are?" He demanded.
"Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton. We're here to see Detective's Chang and Yuy."
The officer's eyes narrowed in scorn and mockery. "Let me guess... they've hired some psychic to solve that stupid case for them, didn't they? Crazy guys are hung up on that girl."
Quatre stepped in front of Trowa. "For your information... Officer Trant," he read the name badge, "I am a criminal psychologist and profiler from New York. My help has been used to solve numerous cases for both the NYPD, the FBI, the Smithsonian Museum and the Jeffersonian." He pulled out his work ID. "And I have not been 'hired', and am here because a good friend asked me too. Now... if there's nothing else you have to do besides pester us, please stand aside."
Trowa could almost laugh at the expression on Officer Trant's face as Quatre neatly side stepped the man and pulled Trowa along behind him. He made a mental note to never piss Quatre off.
Duo blinked up at them when they entered the small office the detectives used.
"This is your 'friend'? The one who's supposed to help us? Ain't he the bartender from the place on Fifth and Main?"
"Yes. Duo Maxwell, this is Trowa Barton. Trowa, these are Detectives Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy." Trowa nodded in greeting, but still 'hid' behind the smaller empath.
"Um," Duo waved at a desk covered in items in plastic bags. "We've got alot of her personal items. Eh, her shoes, a mirror we found on her, parts of her clothes. Just... have a go at it I guess."
"Thank you for your time," Heero nodded. "Your help is appreciated."
"I don't know it I can help," Trowa said as slowly he went to the desk.
"Just believe," Quatre said, coming up behind him. "Believe you can, and you will."
"Quat... I don't know if I can do this."
"Trowa... " Quatre met his eyes, and closed his fingers around Trowa's arm. Focusing on that memory of him and Sei, he Let himself get caught up in the whirlwind that was Trowa's personality. Now that he knew how, it was as easy as second nature to him. It was like destiny intended for them to meld into one. Not as if they were cut from the same piece of fabric, but as one piece torn in two, joined again.
Believe. Focus on me. You can do this. I believe in you.
Silently watching this unheard exchange, Duo took the mirror out of the bag, set it on top. And ever so slowly, Trowa reached out to touch it.
The info came soaring at him with lightning speed, like he'd known it would. Trowa started to jerk away, but Quatre held him firmly.
Don't fight it. Accept it. Focus on me.
Trowa ignored the influx of information, and instead focused on the pretense that was Quatre. The soothing feeling, the orderly emotions and memories. If anyone else had been touching him, he'd have gone crazy from a two-sided attack of memories. But with Quatre, it was different.
Abruptly, the frenzied, falling sensation stopped. Suddenly, it was easier. Somehow, Quatre's presence by him, within him, soothed the rush from the innocent mirror. Quatre's empathy. Quatre was used to trying to calm himself and block out painful emotions, and with Quatre's mind touching his, those blocks must have extended to some extent, calming the torrent.
Just like a library, Trowa thought, and reached out for a 'book'. He wasn't prepared for the memory that assaulted him.
----------
"Hey, Kylie, I'm going to get out of here."
A petite, young girl in her mid teens looked at her blond friend.
"Don't wait up, babe," the other teen said. The voice was a fake falsetto, and the shirt was tell-tale flat against the chest, without hint of breasts. But the heels and mini-skirt spoke of a different fashion. The first girl, with her hair long, straight and blond, rolled her eyes at the second blond, perched upon the lap of some nameless guy, involved in a serious match of tonsil hockey.
"What's the matter, darlin'... no one here... tickle your fancy."
She slapped the guy who just grabbed her ass. "This is the last time I let Kylie talk me into going to some stupid club," she gripped. "Hell, I can't believe she got me to do it this time."
She pushed and shoved her way to the door, ignoring the loud, pulsating music. She actually sighed in relief when she got out and started making her way back to Kylie's apartment.
She was almost half way there when someone reached out a hand to stop her.
"Maia... you know better than to walk around in the dark alone."
She spun to face her visitor.
"Nichol... you ass. Get away from me."
"Only if you say pretty please," someone else said, coming up behind her.
"Otto," she said dryly. "I didn't expect this from you. Why'd he send you two anyway? Why not someone else to retrieve me?"
"Retrieve you?" Nichol sneered. "I'm afraid not, baby-doll. We were sent for a different purpose. And we have orders to have fun with it, too."
Her eyes widened.
"You... he.... No."
"Oh, yes," Nichol said with a lecherous grin. "This will be the last face that Marimaia Kushrenada ever sees."
--------
Trowa yanked himself forcefully away from the vision. Quatre was brutally snapped back into himself once more. "That hurt," the blond muttered.
"Um... guys... what's going on?" Duo asked. Heero merely sat there, watching.
"She was raped, then murdered. And she knew the two who did it."
"We figured that," Heero murmured.
"Someone else paid them to do it," Trowa continued. "And... her name was Marimaia Kushrenada."
For the moment, they'd done all they could. It was up to the detectives to find out who Marimaia Kushrenada was. So, for now, they were done. Trowa walked with Quatre back to Quatre's apartment. And the main topic of their conversation was, of course, the unique developments in their abilities.
Alone, they were both exceptional. Together... they were extraordinary.
"I've never read of anything like this," Quatre was saying. He seemed excited, glowing a little, smiling alot. "If I'm theorizing this right, my sheilds were working on you. Or somehow. I don't even know how to guess at how this happened. But if we can consistently do that... imagine what we could do, Trowa. I mean... just imagine how many cases we could solve. How many John's and Jane's.. like that girl... we could help. How many murderers we could catch. How much better we could make the world. The amount of the possibilities, Trowa... it's just... just... so vast."
Quatre did a little twirl as they exited the elevator. Trowa couldn't help but smile. Quatre was like a kid on a candy high. So happy, so eager. So beautiful.
"You're babbling," Trowa pointed out. Quatre shrugged, turning to face Trowa as he walked backwards into his apartment.
"So? I have a right to be excited, don't I? We may have just made history." Eyes sparkled brightly. "Trowa, you can't tell me you don't feel a little giddy, can you? After what happened?"
"I heard a girl talking to her murderers," Trowa pointed out. "I think I have a right not to be 'giddy'."
Quatre's smile abruptly vanished.
"Oh, Trowa. I forgot that. I'm so, so sorry. That's just horrible." On impulse, he wrapped his arms around Trowa in a hug. "I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault," Trowa replied, returning the hug a bit shyly. He wasn't used to hugging. He wasn't used to touching. There were lots of things he wasn't used to that Quatre seemed to bring about. Like the odd swirling feeling deep in his gut. That desire, the attraction. Not just for a pretty face- although Trowa had to admit that Quatre's was beautiful, from his aqua eyes to his slender body- but his mind and personality. Every bit of him was just something else fascinating to Trowa.
And now he had all of the bubbly personality all cuddled into his arms. Quatre started to pull away, and for that moment, their faces were but an inch apart, breaths mingling. Blue-green eyes met with solid green and Trowa reacted on instinct, leaning forward that last inch until lips met in a soft, tender brush.
Startled, Quatre leaned back.
"Trowa?" He asked, a confused question.
Trowa blinked. Oh, God! What had he done?
"I.... I'm sorry," he stammered. "I.... I.... I've got to go..."
And whereas before, it was Trowa left standing, confused as his friend rushed away, this time Quatre was left there alone and confused, fingers brushing over still-tingling lips as he watched his front door close behind Trowa's fleeing form.
tbc....