Author: Merula

Pairings: 4x3, 1x2

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: AU, assassins, plotting...

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine.

*glares at fic* This was supposed to be a fast songfic- and it ran away from me. Hell if I know where it thinks it's going...

One Night Part 1

Trowa pushed open the door to the bar and slipped inside. He scanned the darkened crowded room, looking for his target. No sign of the young man, he must've come too early. Still, it might be better to have established himself here before the target arrived. Not that there would be a huge investigation, not in a country like this one. They would play it up for the TV maybe, but for the most part, the police would assume the tourist had gone into one of the seedier areas looking for an 'experience' and gotten more than he had anticipated. Happened all the time.

He made a quick round of the room, just in case the target was in a corner somewhere, then found an empty stool at the end of the bar, one that gave him a somewhat clear view of the door, ordered a drink and settled in to wait.

This was a weird job, no doubt about it. Not that the outcome was odd- but the point of it. This stinking cesspool of a city was hosting a chess tournament. Trowa hadn't even known that there was such a thing anymore. Who would care? Computers could beat people at chess any day of the week- why have a tournament? And why have it in such a city as this one? A place more famous for its debauchery and sin than its intellectual pursuits.

Well, maybe the players needed to blow off a lot of steam after all that high-level thinking. Trowa smiled to himself at the thought.

You'd have to want to blow off some steam to come to a dive like this one. It was designed to look like some kind of temple, but the gilt paint was showing signs of fading, and the 'statue of the goddess' over the bar looked more bored than sexy, despite her provocative pose and fake pearls.

Trowa sighed. He couldn't believe that someone was willing to pay his prices just to get rid of a competitor in a chess tournament. Someone was taking the whole game a little to seriously in his opinion, but it wasn't his job to question what or why. He just did as he was told.

He lifted his glass to his lips and shivered a little as the alcohol slid down his throat. He didn't like this job- it seemed almost like he was helping the other person cheat. That sat badly with him- but on the other hand it paid well...

"Is this seat taken?" The voice was soft and low, with a hint of suggestiveness.

Trowa turned slightly to look at the speaker and had a brief moment of surprise.

The target. Quatre R. Winner.

When had he come in?

"Sure, have a seat." He smiled warmly and waved at the empty stool.

The young blond man slid onto the barstool and gave Trowa an appraising look. Trowa was used to such looks, and this one made him smile inwardly. Ahhh, so that detail about the client had been right. This would be easier if he could lure the young man back to a hotel room somewhere... pity though. The target was much better looking in person- and it had been quite a while... Trowa wasn't one to indulge himself with a target however- that just made things messier.

Winner signaled the bartender and ordered a drink. He gave Trowa another appraising glance when he finished, a faint smile lurking on his lips.

"Considering how to kill me Mr. Barton?"

Trowa didn't let his reaction show on his face, kept his body relaxed- even as he cursed inwardly.

"What?" He responded, and let his hand drift towards his wrist sheath. "My name is Bloom, not Barton. Maybe you have me mixed up with someone else?"

"Very good," the blond smiled. "Very innocent. You are as good as your reputation. But seriously, Mr. Barton, it's no use. I know exactly who you are and why you're here- and it's not to pick up someone for the evening." He gave Trowa another considering look. "Unfortunate that. Still, Mr. Barton, I have some business I'd like to discuss with you."

Trowa's mouth tightened. This was bad. Very Bad.

The bartender arrived with the drink. "Is the room ready?"

"Of course Mr. Winner. The boys are already there."

"If you care to join me?" Winner slid off the stool and raised an eyebrow.

"I think I'd rather stay here."

"Then your employer will have you killed for failure. That is not a winning situation for you."

"I don't see how following you will make it better."

"Ah, this way you have a chance to survive. I assure you, Mr. Barton, I know all the angles. This is your best option."

"Of course you'd say that."

"Mr. Cho? I need your help persuading our friend here."

The bartender put a bottle down on the counter in front of Trowa with a friendly smile. "I put some of these in your drink. Mr. Winner has the antidote."

Trowa picked up the bottle and read the label. Ah hell.

He slid off the stool and sighed. "Very well."

Winner smiled. "I knew you'd see reason. This way please-" he gestured towards a door half hidden behind the bar. "If you don't mind- I'll follow you."

Trowa went to the door, mind clicking away. He hadn't had much of his drink, but the poison they'd used was a strong one. He might be able to get away and to one of his contacts in this city... but the chance was a slim one.

"Open the door Mr. Barton."

Trowa did as he was told, and stepped inside the room.

There were two men seated at a table, playing a game of poker. They looked up at him and Trowa blinked. It wasn't often that the dead came back to life.

"Barton." The darker haired man smiled at his surprise. "Good to see you."

"Same Yuy." Trowa nodded at the man's longhaired partner. "Maxwell. Thought you two went down a few years ago out in China somewhere."

Maxwell shuffled the cards and grinned. "So we did. This is our afterlife."

Yuy got to his feet and opened another door on the opposite side of the room. "All set up Mr. Winner."

"Thank you Mr. Yuy. Continue to keep an eye on things for me?"

"Of course."

"This way Mr. Barton?" Winner gestured at the door and Trowa headed for it. He wasn't sure what his two former coworkers were doing here, and it made him twitchy. Yuy and Maxwell had been some of the best in the business- he'd worked with them a few times himself. They had been reliable- never once double-crossed him- but now... well, an assassin's loyalty was often up for sale.

The room was small, empty except for a table with two chairs. The table had two glasses and a chessboard- already set up- on it.

"Please have a seat." Trowa sat down warily. Winner sat down across from him. "Do you play?" He gestured at the board.

"Not since I was a child."

"Pity, it's a fascinating game."

"Apparently," Trowa frowned. "There seems to be a great deal of stress placed on it these days."

"The tournament you mean?"

"Yes."

"Ah well," Winner rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "As you might have guessed, there is a great deal riding on this game."

"What exactly? This seems to be a bit... overkill."

Winner smiled. "It does, doesn't it? Before I tell you, I would like you to tell me something...."

"I don't give out the names of my employers."

"I know. I'm not asking for that. I already know hers- or theirs rather. What I want to know is if I was your only target."

Trowa considered. That seemed reasonable enough. "No."

"How many?"

"You and one other."

"Have you killed the other one already?"

Trowa shook his head. "You arrived in town first."

Winner leaned back in his chair and frowned slightly for a moment. "If I gave you the antidote would you be willing to tell me who the other person is?"

Trowa thought. It's not like he hadn't gone after targets that had been warned he was coming... it made things a little more difficult, but not impossible...

"Yes."

Winner's eyebrow lifted slightly. "I'm surprised."

"Better a live dog than a dead lion."

"And a live dog can still bite." Winner nodded. "Very well." He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a small bottle. "Here." He tossed it across the table.

Trowa opened the bottle. Who knew what this really was? Still... he was already feeling lightheaded...

He lifted the bottle to his lips without taking his eyes off the man across from him and downed the contents.

"Zechs Merquise."

Winner's eyes widened slightly. "I hadn't thought she'd go that far..." He frowned. "Thank you Mr. Barton. It will be a few moments until the antidote takes effect. While you wait- I'd like you to listen to a business proposition."

"I have a choice?"

"Of course. You could get to your feet and walk out that door."

Trowa looked at the door and then back at Winner. "And have Yuy or Maxwell blow my head off."

Winner smiled. "Well, not exactly. I think guns are barbaric. But yes, they have their orders- yet it's still your choice."

Trowa leaned back in his own chair. "I'm listening."

"As you have guessed, this tournament is no ordinary competition. I'm sure you were told that the prize was highly desirable- but I doubt you were told what it was."

Trowa nodded.

"We're playing for control of the Earth Sphere." Winner's lips quirked up in a faint smile. "Or at least more power for our part of it. The people who play in this tournament desire power. They want their section of the Sphere to be the most influential- to have the most power."

"But... I read the papers. I know who the world leaders are- none of you involved in the tournament..."

"Of course not. We prefer to direct- not to claim the spotlight. That's for the showmen. We are the real powers."

"And you play chess for control?"

"Yes. Every year. We meet someplace on Earth- it's more secure than the colonies."

Trowa frowned. "Why are you telling me this Mr. Winner?"

"I don't like introducing players into our game blindly. They need to know their place on the board- understand the stakes. Especially when they are as valuable as you."

It took a moment for Trowa to grasp what the other man was saying. "You play with people? Not pieces? I'm just a pawn in this?"

"Hardly." Winner shook his head. "Regardless of what you are, however, you are now on my side of the board- and surrounded."

Trowa closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Are you planning to sweep me off the board?"

"That depends on you." Winner gestured at the board in front of him. "You see, this isn't an ordinary game. You've been sent out to sweep both kings off the board and leave only the queens and the minor pieces behind. That would upset the balance of power in the Sphere greatly. Especially since the Queens hold Earth- and the Kings the colonies."

Trowa frowned as he realized the possible implications. "It would set off another war..."

"Precisely." Winner sighed. "The people of the colonies have suffered so much already..."

"I know it."

"Yes, you are a child of the colonies. As am I. As are your two old friends in the other room. You have skills that I need- skills I would be willing to pay any amount to gain. But, you are known as an honest dealer, Mr. Barton- you have never failed on a job, never failed to get your target. Could you see your way clear to doing so now?"

Trowa blinked. This he hadn't expected.

"To do that- I'd have to kill the ones who hired me... make sure they couldn't smear my reputation..."

Winner shook his head. "I don't want them dead- not yet. Taking them off the board would still lead to war. They haven't realized that." He sighed. "No, Mr. Barton- I'm asking for a different solution. I'm asking you to give up your life- and start a new one."

"Like Yuy and Maxwell did."

"Yes."

Trowa leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. He was intrigued... a chance to start over... but not the way he had hoped. Still a hired killer. Still bought and sold. Still moved around the board by forces outside his control.

"What part of the colonies are yours?" That would tell him a lot.

"The L4 and L5 clusters."

The wealthier of the colonies- the people of those colonies lived fairly well compared to the other three... no slums, no civil wars... Was it because of the man who sat across from him?

"What if I say no?"

"Then I'm afraid Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Yuy will sweep you off the board. A terrible task for them- they spoke very highly of you."

"Do you dislike giving your servants unpleasant tasks?"

Winner's eyes narrowed. "They are not my servants, but my soldiers. And yes, I do. They are valuable resources for me- even as you would be. I want them to be happy."

"I'd be happier out of this whole game."

"I'm afraid that's impossible at the moment, Mr. Barton." Winner did in fact look as if he was sorry that he couldn't. "I would free you if I could, but I can't."

"I could almost believe you mean it."

"I do. I wish this wasn't necessary, but it is. Will you accept my offer, Mr. Barton?"

There didn't seem to be much of a choice. "Yes."

"Very good." Winner smiled, pleased. He got to his feet. "Then we need to get started. Maxwell has already set up plans to fake your death. You can get started right away."

Trowa blinked at him, startled. The man didn't just assume that Trowa had agreed and was going to stick to his promise? Not that Trowa planned on treachery, but still...

Winner opened the door and gestured at him. "Come on."

"Just like that?"

Winner smiled and tapped his chest. "I feel that I can trust you Mr. Barton. I'm sure you won't disappoint me."

TBC...

 

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