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"Witness Protection"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Rating: R Warnings: Warnings: AU , yaoi, swearing (lots),
some OOC (probably), violence, drugs, sex, a naughty Duo (i.e. he
has a potty mouth and is a bit, er, slutty)…if you are wedded
to the “pure, chaste” version of Duo, he might be a bit
dark and crude for your taste…ditto for the other characters
in here…hey, Quat’s a lawyer…how much lower could he
get? Pairings: 1X2 eventually, 3X4 also eventually, (past 2X3, 6X2) A/N: I’ll apologize in advance that Zechs is, well, deceased right from the start. I like him a lot, and there’ll be mention of him…but mostly in the form of discussing/investigating his murder. Sorry. Summary: When Zechs Merquise is found murdered,
detectives Heero Yuy and Wufei Chang are tasked with the unenviable
chore of keeping the only witness to the crime alive long enough to
testify against the leader of the Oz syndicate, Treize Khushrenada. "Witness Protection"
We made camp when darkness forced us to, choosing a spot deep in the forest, not too far from water, and with the shelter of a rock ledge along one side. I used a tarp to make a lean-to, since the mountain night promised to be cool; but we didn’t cut branches to make a bed, or even put together a fire. The idea was to leave virtually no trail, and any construction of a camp would alert pursuers to our presence, as well as how long we stayed. I unfolded a blanket from one of the packs, and settled onto the ground on it, grimacing at the ache in my wounded leg. “How bad, Yuy?” asked my partner, crouching to hand me a ration bar and a bottle of water. “I think the walking is keeping it loose,” I said with a shrug. I’d hastily wrapped it in gauze that morning before we began our trek, and the fabric was now damp with sweat and blood. “Can you tend to it yourself?” he asked. “I should backtrack and watch for pursuit.” “I’m fine, Chang,” I bit out coolly. “Get to your job!” He slipped off into the darkness, and I leaned back against a tree, sighing wearily. The next thing I knew, Maxwell was at my side with the first aid kit in hand. “Here. Let me clean it up and rewrap it for you,” he said quietly, putting a hand on my thigh. Putting a very warm hand on my thigh. I caught his wrist in an iron grip, fixing him with a piercing glare. “Keep your hands off me,” I growled threateningly, tightening my fingers so he’d know I was serious. The indigo eyes shot me a startled look—a sort of wounded, deer-in-the-headlights look—and his jaw tensed at my bone-crushing grip. “Yuy—,” he gasped involuntarily. I released his arm, and he pulled back, putting his free hand on it to massage the wrist. “I’ll do it myself,” I said gruffly, feeling a blush of shame as I realized I’d genuinely hurt him. He frowned, and then stubbornly picked up the kit he’d dropped. “Let me.” “No.” His hand had begun to reach towards my sodden bandage again, but at my sharply spoken word he stopped the motion, staring searchingly at my face. Then rather suddenly he thrust the first aid kit into my hands. “Have it your way, Yuy,” he muttered bitterly. “I won’t lay a fuckin’ hand on you again.” He stood up and turned away. “If my touch repulses you so damned much…” he added in an undertone as he walked back to his own corner of the lean-to. How was I supposed to explain that it wasn’t aversion to his touch that caused my extreme reaction? It was because I knew how good that touch felt. I didn’t dare let him get that close to me again. Even having the warm, soothing hand on my leg had made me recall the heat of his kiss and the visceral pleasure of being buried inside him. I wasn’t about to let him unwrap the wound—to feel the bare skin of his hand against my thigh. My hands weren’t quite steady as I pulled the dressing off and used some bottled water to rinse the angry furrow of red flesh. Without removing my pants, I cleaned the wound as best I could, and put some antiseptic cream on it; then I used fresh gauze to cover it with a thick layer of protection. I ended up with a soggy pant leg—but that was preferable to being half-naked in the middle of the wilderness with Duo Maxwell. He had his back to me the whole time, having wrapped up in his blanket and huddled against a tree trunk, gazing out into the inky blackness of night in the forest. I bit my tongue to refrain from apologizing, or trying to say something to erase the wounded look from his face. I tried to tell myself he deserved it; I’d rejected his advances from the very beginning. If he hadn’t been so persistent—so determined to force something physical—it wouldn’t be an issue. But really, how much of that had been him, and how much had been me? If I hadn’t been attracted to him, he could have held a howitzer on me and I wouldn’t have responded the way I did. How could he not see that? A twig snapped, and Maxwell shot to his feet, whirling and dropping the blanket, even as he pulled the switchblade. I was a bit slower, my leg having stiffened up from sitting; but I staggered upright and drew my gun. “It’s me—Chang,” came a whisper from the dark. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Maxwell breathed in an explosive sigh. “No—Detective Chang,” I said dryly, my own heart pounding so hard it’s a wonder it wasn’t audible. “Fine fuckin’ time to grow a sense of humor,” muttered Maxwell. Wufei melted out of the darkness, glancing behind him. “All clear out there,” he announced. “If they found the car, it must have been late enough to give us a healthy head start.” “Healthy,” Maxwell echoed. “I like the sound of that.” He even mustered a wan smile. “It’s how I’d like to stay.” Chang snorted. “If I were you—I’d settle for ‘alive,’ and count myself lucky.” “If you were me, you wouldn’t have that stick up your ass,” came the swift, snide reply. “No, it’d be someone’s dick,” Chang shot back without missing a beat. Maxwell’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened—then he gave a short, irrepressible burst of laughter. “Shit, Chang—nice comeback,” he said appreciatively. Then, clearly unable to resist temptation, he let his gaze slide from my partner’s dark, scorching eyes all the way down to his feet. “Y’got a lot of nice things,” he purred slyly. “And they’ll stay mine,” retorted Wufei, shaking his head. He turned away before Maxwell could come up with another witty rejoinder. “Yuy—why don’t you catch a couple of hours of sleep? I’ll wake you for your shift around midnight.” “I could help watch,” Maxwell offered. “No!” Chang and I blurted in unison. “You already ran off once,” I reminded our wayward charge. “There’s nowhere to run off to out here,” he replied with a scowl. “You are in our keeping,” Wufei said firmly. “It is Yuy and I who are responsible for protecting you. Putting you at risk defeats that purpose.” Maxwell made an expansive gesture with his arms. “Y’think I’m not at risk right here?” he asked in exasperation. I glared hotly at him. “We’re well aware of how vulnerable our position is, Maxwell. That’s why we’re trying to get to the next safe house as quickly as possible. The sooner we have four solid walls around us and a roof over our heads, the better.” “Meanwhile,” Chang added. “You can help by carrying your share of the gear, keeping your mouth shut, and obeying our orders without question.” The expression on Maxwell’s face might have been comical under other circumstances. His eyes widened impossibly, and he opened and closed his mouth as if searching for adequately expressive curses. Finally he just shook his head, turning back to pick up his blanket, muttering under his breath. I didn’t catch all of it, but certain words stood out from the rest of the mumbled tirade. “Fucking pigs…anal pricks…God complex…Nazi bastard dictators…” There was more, but I gratefully tuned it out after the first thirty seconds or so. “Wake me when it’s my turn to take the watch,” I told Chang, pulling a blanket around my shoulders and settling onto one of the backpacks for a pillow.
When my partner let me sleep until almost one a.m. I began to think he was getting a little soft, and I told him as much, even as I dragged myself to my feet and limped around trying to loosen up my sore leg. He shrugged. “So you’ll owe me an hour some other time.” He glanced at Maxwell’s blanket-huddled form. The braided man had curled up against a tree, and apparently fallen asleep in that same position. “How does he sleep sitting up like that?” “He doesn’t,” came a rather raspy voice, and indigo eyes opened, fixing both of us with a weary, pained look. Wufei put his hands on his hips. “Sorry the cold, dark forest isn’t up to your standards, Maxwell.” He got a vicious glare for his trouble. “I fuckin’ slept behind dumpsters when I was a kid, Chang…without a blanket…half the time without a goddamned shirt. Leaves are a step up from that.” “Then why can’t you sleep?” I asked, and then was immediately sorry I’d fallen for the lead-in. I reminded myself it was no concern of mine whether he slept or not; so why had I asked? “There are people out there trying to kill me, Yuy. You figure it out.” With that snide parting shot, he curled back up in his blanket, closing his eyes again and effectively ending the conversation. And since when had he ever been the one to cut things short? Usually it was Wufei or I that told him to shut up, or who walked away to terminate the exchange. Something had changed—and I wasn’t sure I liked it. As much as I wanted Maxwell to take our situation seriously, I didn’t want him to live in constant fear—he’d only wear himself out with worry, and that wouldn’t help any of us. But I didn’t know how to assuage those fears, or take his mind off the worry. I’d never been good with emotions; my usual answer was to bottle them up or dismiss them altogether. And those were my own feelings; I knew even less about dealing with other people’s. Wufei took my spot while I hiked back along our previous trail, listening for any disturbance to the sounds of the crickets, or the chirps of the tree frogs. Before becoming a cop, I’d been a boy scout (don’t even go there!) and spent a lot of time out camping and mountaineering—so I knew a bit about wilderness survival and how to read the signs of nature. If anyone was ghosting around out in that darkness, there’d be a stillness that would give them away. I was never so happy to hear the shrill noise of the spring peepers or the persistent cricket sounds. I let my partner sleep until the sky began to pale in the pre-dawn hours, by which time I’d covered quite a bit of ground, and found no sign of any pursuit. Not that whoever had attacked us could really carry on a comprehensive search; I was certain there were enough police departments in on the investigation of the “vandalism” of Winner’s cabin to make things too hot for any illicit operations. But thinking about it led me back to wondering who they’d been and how they’d found us. Supposedly no one at the precinct knew anything about the Khushrenada case. But frankly, I knew how quickly gossip could spread. The fact that Chang and I were gone was enough to alert others that we had a reason to be absent. And it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out it had a connection to Khushrenada…or that we’d had a potential witness in custody. The leap to guessing we were off hiding that witness wasn’t a long one. Hell, the name Duo Maxwell had been plastered all over a web site. And it was for sure anyone in the police department could find the link between Maxwell and Winner. But Quatre Winner owned lots of property, in several states and a couple of foreign countries. How the hell had they narrowed it down to one log cabin in the remote wilderness? And no, it never once crossed my mind to suspect Winner. If he wanted Maxwell dead, I had no doubt it would already have happened. Only the attorney’s generosity and backing had kept us alive this long. But that made ascertaining the leak quite a bit harder. Relena had answered Po’s phone the first time I called—but I’d called from a cell, using a number that had no geographical specificity. She had no idea where we were. And while she knew, or guessed, what we were up to, she couldn’t give anyone a precise location for us. Why would she anyway? She was the police chief’s daughter. That led me to Captain Po—and I’d already decided if I had to relinquish my trust in my Captain, I might as well hang up my badge and gun. As with Winner, if she’d sold us out, we’d already be dead. My meandering thoughts had kept pace with my feet, and I was back at the makeshift camp as the sun began to rise.
It didn’t take us long to get back under way, although we did learn the definition of “roughing it,” by having to make do with bushes for a bathroom, cold protein bars for breakfast, and energy drinks instead of hot coffee. I expected Maxwell to whine. In fact, I wanted him to. I was cold, tired, sore, and frustrated—not to mention tense and fearful. And I desperately wanted someone to blame for it all. But he got up without whining, helped pack up our blankets and obliterate what traces of a camp we’d made, and didn’t say a word about the lack of hot food or bathroom facilities. I was tempted to ask who he was and what he’d done with Duo Maxwell, but I was frankly too tired for sarcasm. Chang led the way, when we set out on the second leg of our journey. With compass and map in hand, he did an impressive job of keeping us on track…right up until we came to the goddamned river. “Fuck,” I muttered concisely, frustrated by the fact that the thin squiggle on the map had failed to illustrate the depth and breadth of the river. Not that it was impossibly wide, and for at least ten feet from the bank, it appeared shallow, but beyond that were some deceptively smooth stretches that promised greater depth. Maxwell finally showed a trace of petulance then, allowing the packs he’d been hauling to fall to the ground. “Great,” he muttered sullenly. “Now I not only get to be terrorized and sleep-deprived. I get to enjoy being fucking soaking wet and freezing!” “Don’t be such a baby,” Chang said curtly, laying aside the stuff he’d been hauling. “It’s not that deep. We can probably wade across, or hop from one rock to another.” He gave our witness a contemptuous look down his aquiline nose. “You won’t even get your precious ass wet.” Maxwell mustered a smirk at that. “You can keep an eye on it to be sure I don’t,” he suggested cheekily. “In your dreams.” “Oh, if you only knew what’s in ‘em.” Maxwell darted a sidelong glance at me, and I felt myself blush. Fuck! I’d known sooner or later he’d get around to taunting me with reminders of our—lapse in sanity. As if I needed them. No matter how dire our situation, the memory of making lo—fucking Maxwell—was always at the edges of my consciousness. And my conscience. “Chang—cut a pole for testing the depth,” I suggested, sitting and unlacing my boots. There was no point in wearing them across the river and having to walk the rest of the day in wet boots. They’d only end up blistering my feet. “You’re serious,” Maxwell said with a mixture of irritation and resignation. He gave a frustrated huff, and plunked himself down on the ground to remove his boots. He was done in record time, fastening the laces together and slinging the footwear over a shoulder. Now how did he know to do that? He caught my curious look and smirked. “Second story work, Yuy,” he said in answer to the unspoken question. “Stockinged feet are quieter than shoes.” So he’d learned that little trick breaking and entering? Swell. Chang was still hacking away at a fallen tree limb to detach a sturdy pole, and I began tying up our gear so we could haul it across one bundle at a time and keep it dry. Maxwell went ahead and started wading cautiously into the clear mountain stream. “Fucking cold!” he declared as he got in past his calves. “Jesus, Yuy, my feet are going numb already.” “They’ll match your head!” Wufei called, walking up beside me with his depth tester. “Har-har,” came the snide reply. “You might want to wait,” I cautioned Maxwell. “The water’s so clear it’ll look shallower than it—.” At that point he took a confident step forward and plunged under the water like a rock. Wufei and I eyed the clear water for a moment, and then my partner spoke up. “What do you suppose the odds are that Maxwell can swim?” I crossed my arms. “Hm…considering his background and lifestyle…slim to none.” Our eyes met as we both reached the same conclusion. “Oh shit!” I knew Wufei was right beside me as I tossed my boots aside to keep them dry, and dove headfirst into the deceptively deep pool of water, swimming for the bottom as quickly as possible. Maxwell had been right. The water was freezing. It almost took my breath away as I struggled against the current to reach my hapless witness. And then I saw the flash of a pale hand, and grabbed Maxwell’s wrist, even as Chang reached the other one. A moment later, all three of us broke the surface, my partner and I striking out for the far shore towing our sputtering charge. Sure enough, just past the deep pool, the water got shallower again, and we were able to stand, dragging Maxwell along to the river bank. “J-Jesus C-Christ!” he stammered, shivering uncontrollably as we stumbled onto the shore. He fell to his knees on the riverbank, coughing and spitting out water. “How f-fuckin’ long w-were y-you g-g-gonna wait?” he managed to choke out. “It was all of ten or fifteen seconds, tops,” Wufei said drolly. “S-seemed like hours!” blurted Maxwell, letting himself fall face-down on the sandy shore. “Get up,” I said, gritting my teeth to keep them from chattering. “Move around to warm up.” “Don’ wanna,” whined Maxwell, rolling onto his back and holding up his arms. “You warm me up.” I nudged at him with a foot. “Seriously, Maxwell. Get up!” Muttering curses, he stumbled to his feet, coughing some more and giving Chang and me accusing looks. “S’posed to keep me alive,” he grumbled through lips that looked a little blue. “Let me fuckin’ drown…” “We didn’t let you drown or you wouldn’t be here,” I pointed out, trying not to notice how much he looked like an adorable little waif, all sodden and huddled into himself. His bangs were plastered to his face, water trickling down and dripping off his chin. The word “bedraggled” came to mind, and I compressed my lips into a tight line to keep from smirking. Chang had been walking along the bank, trying to find a shallower ford to carry our stuff across, and he let out a triumphant yelp. “Perfect.” He stepped from rock to rock through a stretch of white water, and then hopped into knee-deep water and walked out the other side of the stream. “Hey, Yuy! Found a crossing!” he called over his shoulder as he picked up the first of the duffel bags. “No shit.” I looked at Maxwell, who was rubbing his arms and shivering violently. “You should have waited for us,” I told him with a frown. “You’re too impetuous, Maxwell.” He shrugged, stomping his feet to warm them up. “Not used to waiting up for other people, Yuy. I usually work alone.” “From now on, you let us lead,” I cautioned. Chang had carried the first of the luggage across, and walked over to set it next to us. “There should be towels in that one.” He eyed Maxwell and shook his head. “You might’ve mentioned you didn’t know how to swim when we first encountered water, you know.” Maxwell glared back. “You’re a fuckin’ detective. Y’think the alley I grew up in had a rich-ass in-ground pool, or that I could afford a membership to the YMCA? Jesus, Chang. Use your brain.” “I do,” came the lofty reply. “You’ll notice I’m not the one who stepped into ten feet of water.” “It looked shallow!” was Maxwell’s defensive retort. “Y’could see the bottom right there!” “I told you—clear water looks shallower than it is,” I reminded him. “I’m going to help Chang retrieve the rest of our stuff. You get dried off, Maxwell. And then we’ll do some hiking to take the chill away.” Chill, indeed. While Chang and I brought the equipment and supplies across, Maxwell unselfconsciously stripped down to his very brief black underwear and toweled himself off. I nearly dropped my teeth when I saw what he was doing, and then I missed a step and nearly plunged back into the same pool we’d dragged him out of. Not that I’d have felt the cold, for the heat rushing to parts of my body I wanted very much to ignore. Chang was more vocal. “What the fuck are you doing, Maxwell? Have you no shame?” Maxwell looked at him questioningly, and then looked down at the abs he was running the towel across. When he looked up he was grinning. “Shit, Chang. I used to strip—remember? And I wore a lot skimpier stuff than this!” he snapped the waistband of those snug underwear, and I swallowed hard. He caught that little motion out of the corner of his eye, and turned a wicked smirk my way. “Like what you see?” he teased. I didn’t trust myself to answer, but dropped my gaze to the ground just in front of my feet as I hauled the duffel containing his clothes over and tossed it his way. “Your stuff’s in there,” I said brusquely. “Hurry up and put something dry on.” “Wanna help?” he suggested. I felt my hands twitch at the thought of feeling that flesh under them again, and turned sharply away. “Help yourself,” I growled. “Stop fucking around, Maxwell!” Chang ordered. “Get dressed and put your boots on. We’ve got a long way to go yet.” “My boots are all wet,” said the braided man plaintively. “Fucking deal with it,” Wufei retorted. “Deal with this,” Maxwell suggested, flinging his soggy tee shirt to smack into the back of Chang’s head. My partner whipped around with fire in the dark eyes, and probably would have shot Maxwell on the spot, had our witness not taken the opportunity to remove his wet underwear just then. Instead of ranting, Chang made a choked, gurgling sound, spun around, and hurriedly went back across the stream to bring over some more of our stuff. I just stood staring in numb fascination, as Maxwell dug dry clothing out of his pack and slipped on a new pair of briefs. “Aren’t you boys gonna put dry clothes on?” he asked, looking squarely back at me with the slightest of smirks as he slid into a pair of tight, faded jeans. “Uh, yeah—of course,” I managed, trying to get my mind out of those jeans. Wufei came back across with more luggage, and grabbed his own duffel bag off the pile. “I’ll be back in a moment, Yuy. Then you can go change,” he announced, striding off into the trees to change in private. “Aw, hey!” Maxwell protested. “C’mon Wuffers! We’re all guys here. You can change in front of Yuy and me.” “You are not getting a free show!” my partner shot back as he disappeared. I looked accusingly at Maxwell. “He’s straight, you know.” “So he says.” I scowled. “No—he is. Just listen to him. He despises gays. You’re wasting your time trying to—.” Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure just what Maxwell was trying to accomplish by baiting Chang. “—seduce him,” I concluded finally. “I’m not trying to get in his pants, Yuy. He’s just fun to tease.” The indigo eyes slid down to my groin. “You know who I really want. And if you weren’t such a pansy about admitting your preferences—.” “I’m a fucking cop, Maxwell! Do you have any idea the prejudice in the department?” I glared heatedly at him. “Stop playing games and just let me do my job.” I turned away from him, digging dry clothes out of my duffel bag. “I’m still just a job to you?” came a surprisingly tentative question. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Why not? I was just a convenient fuck for you.” “That’s not true—.” He stopped short, and I followed his gaze to where Chang was walking back out of the trees. “Sure it is,” I told him, wanting to end the dangerous topic before Wufei was within hearing range. “Now shut the fuck up about it.” I grabbed my armful of clothes and headed for the trees my partner had just emerged from. Why did I have a feeling if I looked back I’d see a hurt expression in the indigo eyes? Yes, I know I was being a complete ass to Maxwell—but realistically speaking, it was unlikely our sexual encounter had meant anything to him—and when he tried to suggest that it did, I couldn’t help but be angry. What was his angle, anyway? All I could think was that he was trying to get some sort of admission out of me, and then use it as leverage. That I could understand, whereas I found it inconceivable that he was harboring any genuine feelings for me…unless you counted lust. When I got back from changing, both of my companions were ready to travel again. I avoided eye contact with Maxwell, while we redistributed the packs, making sure each of us was carrying approximately the same load. And then Wufei checked our position with map and compass, and we once again struck out for our destination. Chang led the way, and Maxwell was right on his heels, loaded with gear and walking along in dogged silence. I might have said blessed silence, except that for once it didn’t relieve me to have him quiet. I wanted him to whine and chatter and be the Duo Maxwell we’d started this trip with. I saw brief glimpses of that man—but not the full-on outrageousness I’d begun to count on.
By early afternoon the temperature had climbed into the eighties, an unusually warm day so early in the season, and all three of us were sweating under our burdens. The trail climbed steadily, and our breaks came more frequently as we progressed through the dense forest. During one of our five-minute breaks, as we sprawled wearily in a clearing sipping bottled water, Maxwell perked up enough to ask “What’s that smell?” I sucked in a lungful of clear mountain air, heavy with the spicy perfume of pine trees, moss, and leaf litter. “What smell?” I asked for clarification. He waved a hand into the air. “Just—that smell—,” he insisted. “What does it smell like?” Chang asked, taking a sip of water as he leaned back against a duffel bag. “Like those things you hang in the car that smell so good,” Maxwell said with a faint frown. “Pine?” I hazarded. “Yeah—the little pine tree things—.” Maxwell’s eyes went wide and drifted to the tall trees around us. “Oh.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “They really smell like that—only—fresher.” “You need to get out more,” Chang said with a shake of his head. I thought he almost sounded amused by Maxwell’s complete naiveté when it came to the great outdoors. It occurred to me that if our witness were—how had Chang put it—a good looking young woman with manners and charm—my partner would have been quite enchanted by that innocence. I know I was. And I felt more like a heel than ever for the snappish attitude I’d had all day. Here it was Maxwell’s first time in the woods, and I was so fixated on trying to resist my attraction to him that I couldn’t find a way to be civil. I sighed, pulling my knees into my chest and resting my forehead on them. I’d have given a week’s pay to have met Maxwell any way but the one I had. If I’d picked him up in a bar, or bumped into him on a sidewalk, things might have been very different between us. But once again I was reminded that he was a criminal, and I was a cop—and there was just no future in a relationship for us. Hell, there wasn’t even a relationship. Just sex. The most incredible sex of my life. “Fuck!” I blurted, pushing myself upright again and grabbing the map from Wufei. “I’ll lead for awhile,” I told him curtly, picking up my share of the gear and heading off down the trail without waiting for the others to catch up. “What crawled up his ass and died?” I heard Maxwell grumble to my partner. “Must it always come back to asses for you, Maxwell?” sighed Wufei. I tuned them out and set as brisk a pace as I could
manage with my sore leg. I did not want to spend another night
in the open—especially with Maxwell sleeping only feet away from
me. I wanted to be in a house, with security, heat and lights—with
separate rooms and doors that could be locked.
tbc... |
