Author's Note: This fits with chapter twenty-eight of Witness. Sorry for the lapse between postings; life has been strenuous lately.

Diary of a Protected Witness Part 23
Matchmaking

Quatre showed up only moments after Trowa had settled me down and convinced me my pathetic crush on Heero might not be futile. And his arrival gave me something to focus on other than the emotional roller coaster I'd been riding lately.

"Hey, counselor, sleep well?" I asked cheerily, knowing Trowa would be shy and tongue-tied the moment they made eye contact.

"Like a baby," Quatre grinned back. "I don't know if that's because of the bed, though, or the long ride up here." He shook his head. "Your motorcycle is kind of hard on the rear end, Duo."

"It's not a touring bike," I shrugged. "It's for looking cool and driving fast around town." I gave him a teasing leer. "Sex on wheels."

Quatre's glance slid towards Trowa, and he blushed rosily. "Um, yeah, well...what's on the agenda for today? Heero said he'd be out checking security all morning, while Wufei sleeps; so it looks like the rest of us have the place to ourselves."

I grabbed Trowa's hand and dragged him towards the hot tub. "Check this out, Tro'! Not 'sex on wheels,' but 'sex on the deck.'"

Trowa smirked, reaching to run his fingers through the water. "Aw, man--that's awesome," he agreed.

"We can take a dip this afternoon if you like," Quatre offered. "Once the sun's past the roof and the deck is in the shade, it's wonderful to soak in the tub. And there are spare suits in the linen closet, and plenty of robes and towels."

I smirked indulgently. "Hell, Quat--I didn't bother with a suit the other day."

His eyes widened, and slid almost reluctantly down my body, as if he was picturing what I'd looked like nude. I sidled closer. "Be daring!" I challenged. "Skinny dip with Tro' an' me."

"Chang would have apoplexy," he pointed out.

"Let him. A prude like that deserves it," I told him dismissively. "Besides, he owes me."

Quatre raised a knowing eyebrow. "You mean because of his tasteless joke?"

I jerked my eyes up to Quat's face, realizing either Chang or Yuy had blabbed to him about the "child molester" comment. "Drop it," I said flatly.

I felt Trowa's warmth behind me, and heard his quiet voice over my shoulder. "Drop what?"

"Apparently Chang made a bad joke about child molestation--"

Quatre didn't even have the sentence out before Trowa was headed towards the door--intent on beating Chang to a bloody pulp.

"Shit!" I blurted, dashing past him to throw myself in front of the sliders. "Trowa, no!" I snapped.

He looked at me with pure anguish in the deep green eyes. "Shini--"

"I'm okay!" I assured him. "Th' fucker apologized, all right? An' that was after I decked him and Yuy had to pull me off."

Some of the concern left his eyes and he let one corner of his mouth lift in a near-smile. "You decked him?"

"Uh-huh." I nodded vehemently. "Just launched myself right off the window seat and flattened him." And if I said that a little proudly, well, I think I was entitled. How many black belts did the guy have? And he was brought down by a scruffy street punk like me? Now that was justice!

Quatre had come up behind Trowa, and put a cautious hand on his arm. "It sounds like Chang's been punished enough, Trowa," he said quietly. "Yuy gave him hell about it last night, too. And I wasn't exactly pleasant."

"Yuy?" Trowa asked, a knowing look in his eyes. "Ah well--maybe I should let him defend your honor from now on, hm?"

Quatre glanced between us--undoubtedly reading all kinds of things between the lines. "Is there something I should know?"

I glared at Trowa, but directed my answer at Quatre. "Nothing."

"Nothing except that your bodyguard did a little more than just guard it," Trowa piped up.

I clapped a hand over his mouth, staring him down. "Shut the fuck up!" The last thing I needed was for a lawyer to know what had happened between Yuy and me. If Quatre felt compelled to say something to the police Captain about it-- I mean, shit. I didn't want to cost Heero his job.

"Duo," Quatre said in a softly chiding tone. "First off, it's obvious to anyone with half a brain that Yuy's got a soft spot for you. And secondly, whatever might have happened--between you--stays between you. I'd never interfere, or tell anyone without your permission." He gave one of those warm, soothing smiles of his. "I might even think it's a good thing--if it makes you happy."

I blinked, looking at him rather perplexedly. "You--wouldn't get him in trouble with his boss? I mean, if anything were to--if he were to-- You mean you'd be okay with it?"

He nodded, apparently understanding my half-finished thoughts. "You really like him, don't you?"

Trowa snorted aloud at that, grinning unrepentantly. "Understatement of the year!" he blurted.

"Tro'!" I punched his arm in a scolding gesture. "You asshole! Shut up!"

Quatre was laughing by then--a warm, rich, totally wonderful laugh. "Doesn't matter what Trowa says; I can read you like a book, Duo."

"So what?" I grumbled, heading back towards the hot tub again. "Big deal. So I've got it bad for the really hot detective. Who wouldn't?"

"I don't," Trowa said helpfully.

"Me neither," Quatre agreed, smirking at my ex-lover conspiratorially.

"I hate you both," I muttered. Then, in order to distract them from their discussion of my love life--or potential love life--or whatever it was--I asked what they'd brought in the way of groceries, and offered to make a really awesome dinner for us all.

It worked pretty well, too. We raided the kitchen for supplies, planning our nice supper for later; and then we dug out some cheese and crackers and Quatre made a foray into the wine cellar to bring up some vintage stuff for an impromptu party on the deck.

Hell, it was the best day I'd had since leaving the hospital--bar none. I wasn't dodging bullets, sniping with anal cops, or sulking in my room.

Instead I had my best friend at my side, and the hot blonde lawyer for eye candy. I got to tell stories about the adventures we'd had so far--the sunrise and the llama incident--even the bit about Rhonda and how much it ticked off my two babysitters when I turned on the charm.

And even while I was chatting away about the journey, I was noticing the way Quatre was sliding longing glances towards Trowa, and how my former lover was shyly returning them.

Their timid flirtation gave me something to focus on besides my own obsession with Yuy, and the steaming hot tub in the corner looked like the perfect way to facilitate their hookup.

But first--how to get Quatre out of those pesky clothes--?

I had a few ideas, but my self-appointed mission had to wait a bit, as Yuy returned from his patrol. He looked a bit surprised at the sight of us lounging around the table, and then shocked the hell out of me by bantering with Quatre about my sentimentality over the bear and her cubs.

And then he said I was gorgeous.

I couldn't believe it. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

"C'mon, Maxwell. You aren't stupid. You know how you look."

Well yeah, I did. I just never expected him to admit it. And I couldn't help the wistful look I let follow him as he went back inside the house.

Trowa smirked knowingly. "Told ya, Shini. He wants you--badly."

"I'd have to agree," Quatre said quickly. "And from the expression on your face, you want him, too."

"That's not the point," I said with a scowl. "He's a cop. And he's made it pretty clear he thinks I'm street trash."

"I don't think so," Quatre mused. "Despite what he says, I think he genuinely cares about you. I mean, just in the short time we've been here, I can see changes in him. He's not as detached as he'd like everyone to believe."

"Doesn't matter," I said sulkily.

Trowa sighed deeply, concern in his green eyes. He knew what the problem was; I wasn't satisfied knowing Heero was physically attracted to me. I wanted more from him. And so far, it didn't look like I'd ever get it.

I shoved away from the table, wanting to think about something other than my unrequited feelings for a stone-cold cop. "Hey, Quat--how about I give you a little demo? Stripping 101. And then after supper, you, me an' Tro' can have a little contest--a 'strip-off'--to see who's the biggest turn-on for the others."

If that didn't get the two of them over their shyness, nothing would.

My lawyer blushed beautifully, swigged down the remainder of the wine in his glass, and gave a rather resigned nod of his head. "Go ahead an' show me how it's done," he suggested.

So I did.

OWARI

 

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