Witness Protection Part 13
Ground Rules
I'd been staring broodingly out the window for at least an hour before Chang's voice broke the silence in the car.
"Too bad we can't just tranquilize him until the trial," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the man snoring quietly in the back seat.
"He is a lot less--difficult--this way," I admitted, deliberately not looking. I'd already seen Maxwell sleeping--looking young and vulnerable. I didn't need to see it again, especially now that I knew what a consummate actor he was. I couldn't help wondering which personality was the real Duo Maxwell. And I'd probably never know.
"It's hard to reconcile that--punk--with the fact that he volunteers at an orphanage."
"No shit."
Chang frowned a little as he looked out at the highway stretching before us. "Could he have been lying to you?"
"He preceded the confession with the word 'fuck'," I said wryly.
My partner chuckled, and I felt myself relax fractionally. Maybe we'd get through this after all. "So he really does help out at an orphanage?"
"So it would seem."
"I wonder why."
"Maybe you should ask him." Yes, Chang--try starting a dialogue instead of endlessly picking at his insecurities!
My partner snorted wryly. "Thanks, but no thanks. I have absolutely no need to get to know Duo Maxwell any better than I already do."
Ah, now there was a statement of fact. Neither one of us did have a reason to pry into Maxwell's personal life. We were just here to keep him alive. Besides, I didn't think he was likely to open up to us anyway.
"When are we due to check in with the Captain?" Chang asked.
"I'll call her when we reach the safe house."
"Do you suppose the forensics people found anything on that rug?"
I shrugged, and then glanced back at our sleeping witness, wondering how soundly asleep he really was. When Chang looked my way, I put a finger to my lips and jerked a thumb over my shoulder.
"I don't think our talking will wake him," muttered my partner. "Not after the noise I had to make before."
"I'm not worried about waking him," I admitted. "I'm more concerned that he's not as asleep as he'd have us believe. We shouldn't discuss the case in front of a potential witness."
"True," conceded Chang. "And he is a devious little shit, isn't he? Can you believe that bullshit with the waitress?"
I shook my head. "He certainly knows how to be charming--when he wants to."
"Well I don't know why he has to be such an asshole to us," came the bitter reply.
Maybe because you're an asshole to him...
"He seems to have some specific reasons." I sighed, and then darted a sidelong glance at my partner, thinking the same thing about him and his animosity towards Maxwell. Why was he so singularly offended by the young punk? His dislike of Maxwell--of all gang bangers--was more intense than seemed reasonable at times. Maybe I could ask him later, out of earshot of our sly charge.
"Just--try to keep your temper in check with him," I suggested carefully. "He was reluctant enough about testifying to begin with. And frankly, we need his cooperation in order to prove our case."
"Even with it--can you imagine how a jury will see him?" came the scathing reply. "I mean--he just looks like trouble. You even said it yourself--a walking violation."
"I've seen the DA work wonders," I shrugged. "There was this case where he had to put a cross-dresser on the stand and make the guy come off as a reliable witness."
"Did he succeed?"
I smirked slightly. "Yeah--and I think one of the bailiffs asked the guy out on a date afterward."
Wufei chuckled. "He let him dress in drag?"
"Yeah, he had to. The man was the ugliest bastard you ever saw when he wore men's clothes. But put him in a nice pantsuit--"
Chang laughed even harder at that, and I breathed a small sigh of relief that I'd been able to ease some of the tension that had been growing between us. The last thing I needed was to be at odds with my partner during a case like this.
We didn't talk much after that. I watched the scenery slide by, while planning what sort of security measures I could set up at the safe house, once we reached it. And Wufei seemed very content with the silence.
~*~
I must have dozed off for a bit, because the next thing I knew, we were pulling into a gas station. I sat up and ran a hand across my eyes, automatically looking back to see that Maxwell was awake, and doing the same.
"Sleep well?" Chang asked me.
"Right." I yawned, trying to stretch as best I could in the cramped vehicle.
"Good timing," Maxwell spoke up, rummaging in his backpack for something. "That chili's catching up with me."
"I get first call on the bathroom then!" Wufei said quickly, almost with a hint of wry humor.
"Chicken," muttered Maxwell, pulling a brush out, and starting to work the tie off the end of his braid.
I tried not to watch in rapt fascination as he shook out waves of glimmering chestnut hair and began running the brush through it--but damn! It was impossible not to wonder what that would feel like running through my fingers.
The very instant the car slowed to a stop, I flung open the door. "Be right back," I said quickly, heading for the office to get the key to the rest room.
Hey, it was the only excuse I could think of to get away from the sight of that hair. And besides, I really did want to look over the facility and make sure it was reasonably secure.
When I got back to the car, Chang was pumping gas, and Maxwell was still inside, just finishing redoing his braid. I dangled the key in front of my partner. "You may as well go ahead. I'll finish fueling the car."
It didn't take him a split-second to snatch the key from my hand and head for the rest room.
Maxwell clambered out of the back seat and stretched languidly, the sleeve of the tee shirt pulling back to fully reveal that goddamned Grim Reaper tattoo.
"Would you cover that thing?" I demanded, glaring at his arm.
He looked down in surprise, and then ran a hand over the elaborate marking. "I forget it's there," he admitted with a shrug, reaching back into the car for his jacket.
Of course, when he bent over, I got a perfect view of his ass--even better than when he'd strutted out of the interrogation room the other night. I hastily averted my eyes and bit back a groan, trying to remember exactly how long it had been since I had sex. Too long, was the only conclusion I could reach. If I was desperate enough to be drooling at the sight of a fucking street punk's rear end, it had been way too long.
"Where the hell are we?" came a quiet voice so close it made me jump.
I looked up to find Maxwell standing just a little closer than made me comfortable. "Almost halfway there," I told him, jumping again as the gas pump clicked off. God, was I twitchy!
I hung up the hose, and replaced the gas cap, while Maxwell moved around to the back of the car and lit up a cigarette. At least he had the presence of mind to do it away from the pumps.
Chang came back a few minutes later, and Maxwell headed for the bathroom with me at his heels.
"You're starting to get on my nerves with that," commented the braided man, not even looking back at me.
"Get used to it. I'm not letting you out of my sight," I told him frankly. "It's my job to protect you, and I can't do that if I'm not with you."
"Makes me feel like a fuckin' prisoner," he muttered, darting a resentful glare over his shoulder.
"Deal with it," I replied flatly.
We got back on the road shortly thereafter, though Maxwell seemed to have slept as much as he was going to. That meant he was well-rested and therefore restless.
We'd barely gotten up to highway speed when he was leaning over the seat and shoving a new cd into the player, cranking it up just loud enough to be annoying. I barely resisted the impulse to shut it off and fling the cd out the window.
"Must you have it so noisy in here?" Wufei asked, scowling darkly.
Maxwell looked over at him, grinning unrepentantly. "I like music, detective. Used to be a dancer, remember?"
"A stripper," muttered Chang darkly.
"An exotic dancer," came the snide reply. Maxwell slid into the back seat again, and turned his attention to the window, watching the scenery fly by and tapping out accompaniment to the music on the back of our seat.
"Were you a drummer, too?" I asked with a glare.
He just smirked, and subsided, dropping his hands to his lap. But I noticed the slim fingers pattered ceaselessly on his thigh in a restless gesture. And after a few minutes, he rolled the window open a couple of inches and lit up a cigarette. "What time is it?"
I glanced at the clock on the dash. "A little after six."
"When are we stopping?"
Chang and I had discussed that very question before we left--but we'd never shared the details with Maxwell. It just didn't seem necessary for him to know.
"We're driving straight through until we get there," I told him frankly.
He squirmed on the seat a little. "How many more hours?"
"With time out for meals, refueling and bathroom breaks, we could be there by noon tomorrow."
"Fuck."
"What's your problem?" demanded my partner curtly. "Yuy and I are the ones doing the driving and planning."
"Exactly." Maxwell fidgeted with his cigarette, his restlessness reminding me of a junkie who'd gone too long without a fix.
Crap! A junkie?
"What are you on?" I asked bluntly--coldly--glaring hard enough to just about bore holes through him.
He looked blankly at me for a second, and then stiffened, realizing what I was talking about. "Nothing!" he said icily. "I haven't used anything hard since I hooked up with Trowa. We don't do that shit!"
When I merely raised a skeptical eyebrow, his face darkened. "Fuckin' ass!" He tucked his cigarette in the window handle, and then yanked off his jacket, his movements jerky with anger. He then reached both arms across the seat to show me the absence of needle tracks. "Satisfied? Or d'you want me to drop my pants so you can check the veins in my legs, too?" he challenged.
Hell yes!
I meant no! Definitely not! The last thing I needed was to see Maxwell all but naked in the back seat of that rental car.
"Just sit the hell back," I ordered gruffly, trying not to let my gaze travel the corded muscles of his forearms. "I had the right to ask. You're goddamned jumpy for someone who's not in need of a fix."
The indigo eyes shot me a deadly look. "I'm not used to fuckin' sitting around, asshole. I'm usually on my way to work about now. I'm a night person, remember?" He finished his cigarette and tamped it out on the sole of one of his boots before tossing the butt out the window.
For a moment I considered apologizing for my mistake--and then thought back to our previous interactions, and his "kiss my ass" attitude, and decided he didn't deserve one. Besides, I'd be damned if I showed weakness; it would only give him ammunition to use later.
"Night person or not--you have nothing to do right now, so you might as well try to relax."
"Right--stuck in a car non-stop for over twenty-four hours with two anal-retentive cops who hate my music, my clothes, my lifestyle, and me!" he blurted, slumping back against the seat and glaring out the window. "This sucks."
I'd have contradicted him--but he was pretty much right. His music was too loud, his clothes too revealing, his lifestyle mostly illegal, and his personality abrasive. Granted, "hate" was a bit strong of a word. I might have used the phrase "intensely disliked" instead.
"We'll stop for dinner in an hour or so," I told him. "You can get out and stretch your legs a bit then." I fixed a stern glare on him. "But this time keep in mind that we're supposed to blend in. Don't go collecting waitresses' phone numbers again."
Wufei turned a disbelieving look on me. "He got her phone number?"
"On the bottom of the pie container," Maxwell said rather smugly, sliding forward to cross his arms on the back of the seat again. "Jealous, Chang?"
"Disgusted," he muttered sullenly.
"Can't help being irresistible," Maxwell shrugged, giving my partner a beatific smile.
I couldn't help it; I gave a derisive snort. "You mean egotistical," I sneered.
The indigo eyes fixed a narrow look on me. "It's not ego if you've got something worth bragging about," he retorted.
"But you don't."
"Says you."
Wufei glanced over at us. "Is that what it sounds like when Maxwell and I argue?" he asked me rather wearily.
"Worse," I assured him.
"Damn." The dark eyes shot me an apologetic look. "Sorry."
I couldn't help smirking in return. "Just don't let it happen again."
"As if--!" came a skeptical comment from the back seat.
Sadly, I had a feeling Maxwell was right. I just couldn't imagine Chang being able to bite his tongue that hard. If the music didn't grate on his nerves, our witness' snide comments would--and I'd bet money that one or the other would drive my partner over the edge again, and soon.
~*~
It didn't even take as long as I'd thought it might. Less than an hour later they were both too edgy to be tolerant.
And when Chang pulled into the parking lot of yet another greasy spoon joint, even I sighed wearily, wishing for a more fulfilling meal than a roadside burger shop could provide. Maxwell was more vocal in his dissatisfaction.
"Aw, for fuck's sake, Chang! Isn't there anyplace decent to eat in this godforsaken wasteland?" he complained, pulling his jacket on again as we parked.
"This from someone who lived on the streets all his life," my partner muttered snidely.
"Yeah, well, since I hooked up with Zechs, I've moved up to a finer class of dining," Maxwell shot back loftily.
I tried to picture the brassy, outspoken street kid at a five-star restaurant on Zechs Merquise's arm--and failed miserably. It just didn't track.
"Well your crime lord boyfriend is dead now," Wufei said harshly, an underlying note of satisfaction in his voice. "He pissed off the wrong people and got his fucking brains blown out on a very nice Persian rug. So you'd better get used to slumming again. It's right back into the gutter you crawled out of."
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Chang to back off a little--that Maxwell was reluctant enough and didn't need extra prodding to decide to tell us to fuck off--but I wasn't quick enough.
Maxwell flung open the car door and bolted.
"Goddamn you, Chang!" I snarled at my partner, before taking off after our wayward charge. And why was I always the one who had to run after Maxwell?
The kid was damned fast, but I caught up to him when he had to pause to scale a chain-link fence bordering the limited access highway. Grabbing him by the belt loops, I dragged him back down to earth.
He spun with a fist poised to strike, but when he saw it was me and not Wufei, he stopped. "Let go, Yuy. I fuckin' changed my mind. I'll take my chances on my own."
"I can't let you do that," I said firmly. "We have a deal."
"The deal didn't include getting insulted by your uptight asshole of a partner."
He turned away again, and I sighed, yanking the cuffs from my hip pocket and quickly slapping one end on his right wrist. "Sorry about this, Maxwell."
He tried to swing at me with his left hand, but it was simple enough to dodge and snag that wrist, linking it to the other behind his back.
"Goddamn it, Yuy! Get these things off me!" Maxwell yelled in outrage, turning a perfectly livid gaze my way.
"Not until you settle down and come back to the car peacefully."
His kick took me just above the knee, buckling my leg and nearly dropping me to the ground--but I maintained my balance, and stumbled back out of range before he could follow through on the attack. The little bastard was unbelievably quick--but then, I probably should have expected that from a dancer, right?
"Fucking shit!" I blurted, glaring up at him from a half-bent position as I rubbed at my bruised leg. "Are you nuts?"
"Get the cuffs off me--now!"
"Get your ass back to the car!"
At that point Chang finally arrived on the scene, his face dark as a thundercloud. "What the fuck are you two playing at? Do you want to attract attention? Why not take out advertising space that Duo Maxwell is headed upstate to hide out from Khushrenada's hit men?" His onyx eyes darted a look to the highway behind us, bringing our attention to the passing cars and the curious glances we were getting.
"Goddamn it," I growled, limping over and grabbing Maxwell's cuffed wrists, yanking them up behind him. "Start walking or I swear to God I'll break 'em." And I meant it, too.
A faint grunt of pain told me I'd gotten my point across, and my prisoner began to walk slowly, doggedly back towards the car.
When we got there, I opened the door and shoved him in, looking over the roof to fix my partner with a vicious glare. "You go in and get us something to go. I'll take first watch."
He nodded.
"And Chang?"
"Hm?"
"Keep your fucking mouth shut in the future--okay?"
"Fuck you, Yuy," he growled back. "The guy's street trash. And he should expect to be treated as such!"
"He may be street trash--but he's also the only witness we've got--and we can't afford to lose him because you feel like expressing your opinions out loud."
He gave a curt nod and stalked off, muttering under his breath.
I slid into my seat, looking back to see Maxwell glaring at me. "I want the fuckin' cuffs off, Yuy. I'm not your prisoner. You're supposed to be protecting me."
"It's pretty difficult to do that if you run off," I pointed out with meticulous logic.
He took a deep breath, but instead of exploding in anger, he simply let it out in a heavy sigh. "I needed some space," he said in a sullen tone. "An' I didn't need your slanty-eyed pal there reminding me that someone important to me is dead. Okay?"
I didn't know if he was more upset by being reminded of Merquise's grisly death, or by Chang's mention of the gutter he crawled out of. Not that it mattered. Chang had been a bit excessive either way.
If my knee didn't hurt so much, I'd probably have considered that. Instead, I just felt a rush of irritation. "No, it's not okay. You slept with a drug lord, Maxwell--and you witnessed his murder. Don't expect to be coddled or treated with kid gloves. We're out here on the road trying to keep you alive long enough to put a killer away. But that doesn't mean we have to baby you--or put up with abuse from you."
"Y'wanna talk about abuse?" he snarled back. "Take the goddamned cuffs off, or the next time we stop for food, I'm calling Winner and telling him I changed my mind about cooperating with the pigs."
His stoop to name-calling merely made me smile, glad I'd pushed him to that level of anger. "Yeah, and you can tell him we'll have you back to face assault charges." I dropped my gaze to my leg, running a hand over the sore area.
"Oh, don't be a pussy!" Maxwell sneered. "I didn't kick you that hard or you wouldn't be walking, Yuy."
My mind drifted back to the squad room and an abusive punk spitting in my face all those years ago; I felt an upwelling of anger. "Maxwell--when Chang gets back, we are going to lay down some ground rules. And you are going to obey them, or I'll personally haul your sorry ass back to town and hand you to Khushrenada myself!"
He knew it was an empty threat, and yet he backed off just slightly. "Go ahead," he challenged...though it sounded a bit forced. "It'd save us all a lot of trouble."
"Don't tempt me," I growled back with less vehemence.
At that point, a speculative gleam came into the indigo eyes, and his lips twitched as if he had the sudden urge to smirk. His whole demeanor changed in a heartbeat. "You'd like it if I did," he purred.
Yes, purred.
How he made his voice go from harsh and coarse to a deep, sultry croon was beyond me. But I felt an immediate shiver slide up my spine.
I forced a sneer. "Maxwell, I don't think there's anything you could do that I'd like."
He leaned forward in the seat, bringing his face closer to mine. "You're wrong there, detective." His eyes were half-lidded; but that didn't hide the glimmer of lust in them. "I could make you feel better than you've ever felt in your whole life. Fuck you clear into next week--"
I glanced at the window beside me to be sure it wasn't fogging up. Or maybe I was looking for an escape route. All I knew was that my witness had gone from prey to predator so fast it made my head swim. And was it hot in here, or what?
"M-maxwell--" I meant my voice to sound threatening, but it came out as a hoarse croak.
He gave a throaty chuckle, licking his lips and looking very hungrily at mine. "You ever kissed a guy...detective?"
Oh, there just was no right answer to that question! If I said "yes," he'd know I was gay and take it as an invitation. And if I said "no," I had a feeling he'd suggest I give it a try.
He took my silence for the flustered, muddled reaction it was, and smiled lasciviously. "Why don't you let me show you just how good I could make you feel? Kiss you, an' lick you...suck you, an' fuck you..."
Goddamnit, he was starting to get a reaction I didn't want to show. "Shut up, Maxwell!" I snapped out desperately, backing as far as I could against the door, trying to control my breathing, which was growing heavier by the second.
He was leaning partway over the seat, way closer than I wanted him to be, and the breath from his parted lips was practically steaming in the cool air.
A sharp rap on the window behind me made me spin around in a panic, grabbing for my gun, only to see Wufei glaring through what was, indeed, a slightly steamed-up window.
"Open up, Yuy!" he said sharply.
I hastily rolled down the window, hoping my face wasn't as flushed as my body felt. "What?" I growled out.
"It's going to be about twenty minutes for our order to be ready," Chang announced. His dark eyes scanned the steamy windows of the back seat. "What the hell have you been doing? Looks like a parked car with a couple of teenagers making out in it."
I know my face flamed at the implication, and I heard Maxwell give a sultry laugh. "Well then maybe next time you should stay gone a little longer," he suggested.
Chang's gaze came back to me, and I glared heatedly. "He's just been mouthing off, is all," I informed my partner. "The usual crap. You want me to take over driving when the food's ready?"
"No--I'm good for a few more hours," he replied, his frown fading to be replaced by a slightly evil smirk. "If you want to gag Maxwell, I'd understand."
I could think of a few things I'd like to gag him with. And on the heels of that thought, I decided I needed to clear my head. "I'll go pick up the order, Chang. You babysit. And don't editorialize on Maxwell's lifestyle any more, okay?"
I swung the door open so quickly my partner barely sidestepped out of the way, and got out, wincing at the reminder of my sore leg when I put weight on it.
"If he runs again, can I shoot him?" asked my still-amused partner.
"Yeah--aim for the kneecaps," I suggested, turning and walking off towards the restaurant.
TBC...
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