Author's Note: This fits with chapter sixteen of Witness.

Diary of a Protected Witness Part 9
Confined Spaces

Okay, it was pretty obvious from the get-go that our time in the log cabin would be pure Hell. Between Chang and Yuy laying down the law--their law--and the restrictions they put on me, I felt like I was in jail.

Not like it was the first time I'd been in jail--but this was so much worse.

I tried. Honestly.

Heck, I offered to let my two hot jailors share a room with me. Heh, heh. Chang ignored me, but Yuy looked for a second there like he was considering the possibilities.

In my dreams. (Insert a wistful sigh here.) As I'd said, the guy was just drool-worthy. So if I lusted after him, who could blame me?

While Chang inventoried our supplies an' stuff--I followed Yuy back to the car--looking for a diversion. Any kind of diversion.

"Is there anything to do around here? Like--anywhere to go--at all?"

I should've known better, I guess.

"Maybe it's time we discussed those 'rules' I mentioned before."

Well, shit.

No smoking in the bedroom. No going outside, at all. No phone calls. No going anywhere without letting the nazi prick cops know exactly where I was.

"You seriously expect someone to find us, don't you?" I asked in disbelief, wondering how on Earth anyone could ever think to look for me in the middle of a wilderness.

"You yourself pointed out the precinct has leaks," Yuy reminded me.

And then Chang mentioned some chick at the precinct--their Captain's secretary. Relena.

"You know how she feels about you," he pointed out to Heero.

"Got a girlfriend, Yuy?" I asked, my hopes plummeting as I wondered if I'd misread him completely. Hadn't he seemed turned on by some of my antics? I'd thought for sure he was gay--the way he sidestepped the issue around Chang, and his reaction to my flirting.

Fuck it anyway.

"In spades, Maxwell. She's Chief Darlian's daughter. And she'd do damn near anything for Yuy."

Whoa. There was that funny twist in my gut again. Jealousy?

Was I actually jealous of Yuy's girlfriend? And why? For Christ's sake he was just a cop--a mean, mission-oriented, dictatorial ass.

So why did the thought of some pretty girl waiting back at the police station for him bother me so much?

I got in some parting shots, called Yuy Master, just to piss him off, and then went to sit by the fire and have a smoke.

And when the detectives went outside to set up some kind of high-tech security they'd brought along, I flipped through channels until I found a music video station, and watched performers I thought Trowa and I could've outdone in a heartbeat.

Yeah, we'd been quite the team. Our two-man show was all the rage at The Jungle, and honestly, I'd liked the work. Stripping wasn't a bad occupation--sliding clothing off piece by piece as guys cheered and drooled and threw money at me.

I stretched out on the couch, reminiscing about how nice a gleam of appreciation looked in a man's eyes. It'd been too long since I'd seen one. I guess the last time was when Zechs took me to bed the night he died, and told me how grateful he was that I'd given him another chance--how much he loved me--and that he'd do anything for me. Anything at all.

I wished that hadn't been a lie--because all he'd have had to do was stay alive and with me.

~*~

When I woke up later, there was a blanket thrown over me, which kind of gave me an odd feeling. First off, I usually slept lightly, and wondered who could have gotten that close without waking me.

Secondly, it was a kind gesture--not the type of thing either of my companions would indulge in. Though, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say it had been Yuy. He, at least, had a spark of compassion, much as he tried to hide it.

I padded into the kitchen in time to hear "I'll just send him to his room if he gets troublesome."

"Y'know--" I pointed out. "You two might not wanna keep talking about me like I'm not here, when I'm all of ten feet away."

Chang didn't miss a beat. "Wishful thinking."

"Right back atcha, Chang," I sneered.

I took a seat at the table, stretching my legs so my feet touched Yuy's ankles, and smirking in satisfaction as he flinched. "Oops--sorry." He knew damned well I wasn't.

We talked a bit about contacting Quatre after that. I'd left a signed power of attorney with him, and instructions on what to do with my stuff if I didn't make it out of this mess. I just wanted to make sure he had it all straight. Pretty much anything I had of value was supposed to be sold to raise money for the orphanage. And if there was any doubt about anything, I'd designated Trowa to make judgment calls.

The only thing I was adamant about was being cremated if I died. Not that I was dwelling on my mortality or anything, with Treize Khushrenada sending people to blow up cars with me in 'em.

Okay, maybe I was.

It just felt right to me that I should end up like the rest of the Reapers--when the time came. They'd all been burned to ash in that warehouse fire, and by rights, I should've been there with 'em. If I hadn't gone off alone to brood about Solo, and how pissed I was that even after Meilan's death he stayed away from me, I wouldn't have ended up at the store in time to see those scrawny little street kids about to break a window with a brick. And I wouldn't have offered to help them do it smarter.

They were the ones who told me what they'd heard on the street--that the Rebels were planning a pre-dawn attack on the Reapers--that they claimed they knew our hideout and how to set a trap.

And if two fucking cops hadn't happened along and caught me in the grocery store, swiping canned goods and bread for a handful of starving kids--

Well, fuck. Let's just not go there.

Anyhow, I ended up in a debate about honor with Chang, which was just plain stupid on my part. And in disgust, I took myself back to the living room to finish my meal in a less oppressive atmosphere than the one that clung to those two detectives.

Stuck-up pussies.

When I took my dishes back out to the kitchen, I noticed Yuy had disappeared. I'd have asked Chang about that, but I was kinda trying the silent treatment on him for a change. Plus, I could pretty much guess for myself that he'd gone to get some sleep, since obviously the two of them were going to watch me in shifts.

I went back to my hundred cable channels and watched some television--but found myself superimposing an image of a blue-eyed cop over the face of the guy in some love story I happened upon.

Fuck. He really did have pretty eyes.

I'd seen him sleeping in the car, and it had been kind of sweet the way his face relaxed when he slept. He'd looked kind of tousled and innocent, his face obscured by the thick, unruly hair--and it had been all I could do to keep from reaching out to brush it back. I wondered how soft it was--or if it was as coarse and wiry as his personality.

But then, he'd slipped up once or twice and showed me that there was more to him than the ice-cop image he projected. He bought me a cd player...and he let me watch a sunrise...and he threw a comforter over me when I was sleeping on the couch.

What the hell was I supposed to make of that?

I ran a hand back through my bangs, and realized they were kind of sticky and unkempt, which reminded me I hadn't had a shower since before the meeting at Quatre's office and the fateful car bomb.

Well shit. I'd checked out the bathroom before, and it was a thing of beauty--all tile and marble and plush towels. Time for a bit of indulgence.

I pushed up off the couch and sauntered out to the kitchen--at which point Chang looked up from making coffee and cleared his throat. "Going somewhere?"

Oh--that's right. I had to "check in" with my wardens before taking a shit, didn't I?

I gave him a perfectly lascivious smile. "Yeah, hot stuff. I'm goin' to take a shower. After ogling two hot asses all day, I really need some quality time to myself, if you catch my drift."

He curled a lip in distaste. "I wish I didn't."

I very deliberately peeled my shirt off and threw it at him. "If you want to come watch me whack myself off in the shower, now's your chance."

"Maxwell--!"

I turned on my heel and strutted out of the kitchen, using my "stage walk." Y'know--the one that had guys squirmin' in their seats back at The Jungle as they imagined my long, lean legs wrapped around their waists.

I sort of wished it had been Yuy in the kitchen--watching my ass as I walked away--those blue eyes just burning with need--

Fuck it--at this rate, I might really have to jerk myself off after all.

OWARI

 

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