Author's Note: I neglected to give the group Brewer and Shipley credit for the title of the previous chapter. "One Toke Over the Line" was the name of their one big song hit, a long, long time ago. (Check it out...excellent song.)
Witness Protection Part 15
Don't All Cops Eat Doughnuts?
When I woke, it was to the sight of a grey pre-dawn sky and some of the most breathtaking scenery I'd ever encountered. We were up in the mountains, and sunrise was not far off, in all its springtime glory.
But what had nudged me into waking was the low murmur of voices.
"--no need to stop," Chang was saying firmly.
"But Wuffers--I just wanna see what a real sunrise looks like."
"I thought you worked nights. I'm sure you've seen lots of sunrises on your way to bed--unless you were too drunk or stoned to recognize them."
"Watching the sun come up through smog and between skyscrapers isn't the same," Maxwell protested. "Shit, Chang, look out your window, for Christ's sake!"
"I've been looking out the windshield for hours, Maxwell. And yes, the scenery is lovely. But you can wait until we stop for breakfast in an hour or two to get out and look at the trees."
"What if I need to take a leak?"
"I'm sure there'll be bathroom facilities where we stop to eat."
"I can't wait."
"Yes, you can. There's no handy restrooms out here in the middle of nowhere."
"I could use a bush. Hell, I could just stand behind the car. No one would see--even if there were another car on this godforsaken road. We haven't seen one since, like, midnight."
"You could also wait one more hour. It won't kill you."
"Again--what if it does? Where would your precious case against Khushrenada be if I ruptured something and died painfully?"
"You are a fucking drama queen, Maxwell!"
"And you've got a stick so far up your ass it's a wonder it's not sticking out your ear. God! You need to loosen up, 'Fei-fei."
"And you need to learn manners and respect."
I pushed myself upright--yawning and running a hand across my face. "Pull over, Chang," I ordered curtly.
"Why?" he demanded.
"I need to take a leak as much as Maxwell does," I said flatly. "And I don't feel like waiting to see how long it takes us to find an open diner."
"Yes!" crowed Maxwell jubilantly, patting me on the shoulder in a sort of conspiratorial gesture that made me flinch.
Muttering imprecations, my partner pulled the car into one of those "scenic overlook" spots, and Maxwell was out the door almost before it stopped.
He jogged to a little rocking outcropping and stood with his mouth open in awe, watching as the sun slowly cleared the mountains and lit up the valley below us...bringing out the reddish tint of budding maples and the deep greens of the pines.
It really was a beautiful sight.
Chang looked over at me with a scowl. "Why do you indulge him, Yuy? He's not a child."
"This from the guy who used child door locks to keep him in?" I returned rather snidely.
"He was a drug lord's fuck toy, Yuy. He's a thief and a whore. Y'think he gives a shit about a sunrise? He just wanted to test how far he could push us again."
I was only half-listening by that time; most of my attention was on Maxwell, who'd raised his face to the sun, smiling blissfully and hugging his arms to himself as if clinging to the moment. The rays of the morning sun set his chestnut hair alight, and danced across his fair, almost too-pale skin, bathing him in its radiance.
"He's a street kid, Chang. He said himself, he's never left the city, and never seen anything like this," I pointed out. "What harm can it do to let him watch a sunrise?"
"He makes a lovely target standing in plain sight."
Excellent choice of words--lovely.
I eyed the empty road before and after us. "If Khushrenada is far enough ahead of us to have people watching this road--we're already beaten."
My partner simply shook his head, scowling. "It's an unnecessary risk."
I looked once again at the figure bathed in sunlight, a truly genuine smile on his normally-guarded face. "The risk is minimal."
And worth it! The view of Maxwell basking happily in the rays of the rising sun was as breathtaking as the mountain scenery.
"Did you even need to pee?" Wufei asked snippily.
I shrugged. "Yes--but I can wait until we find a bathroom."
"So you are spoiling him."
"Just look at him, Chang. He's happy...relaxed. For the first time since we left that hospital, he hasn't got a chip on his shoulder."
"His attitude isn't my concern--or yours either," Wufei pointed out. "His life and his testimony are the only matters that count."
"And we stand a better chance of safeguarding the first and obtaining the last if we keep him marginally happy," I countered.
Chang shook his head. "What will you do next?" he wondered. "Allow him his marijuana? Let him keep flirting shamelessly with you? Roll over and let him have his way in everything?"
Wow. It was pretty bad when I started finding innuendo in what Wufei said--but the thought of letting Maxwell have his way, with me, brought a blush to my face that I hoped my partner overlooked.
"He's not getting his own way," I said defensively. "We're merely keeping him occupied for the moment. Once we get to the cabin, we can set up our safety measures, and then settle in to wait for the trial date. There's no point in getting him stirred up and restless before we even start."
"You are so caving on this," Chang accused. "Why? What is it about him that's different from all the druggies and whores we've had in custody before?"
"Maybe the fact that he's not 'in custody.' He's under our protection."
"Some protection. If anyone had followed us, they'd have a perfect opportunity to take him out right here and now," muttered my partner, turning back towards the windshield as Maxwell came strolling over to the car.
"That was awesome!" he said enthusiastically.
I just shook my head, trying very hard not to smile. "Get in."
"In a sec. I gotta take a leak." True to his word, he walked around behind a boulder near the road to relieve himself. I didn't feel the need to tag along, since his head and shoulders remained in sight even though the large rock obscured the rest of him.
Wufei gave a wry snort. "At least he's pretending to really need to go, Yuy. Unlike you."
"So I wanted you to ease up on him," I shrugged. "Sue me."
A moment later, Maxwell jogged back to the car and clambered in, looking supremely pleased. "Thanks guys."
Wufei blinked, and glanced over at me with an almost puzzled expression.
I smirked back, and without turning around replied, "You're welcome, Maxwell."
~*~
We drove for nearly two hours through hills and forests, without seeing any sign of civilization. And when we passed a sign with a little fork and knife indicating a place to eat up ahead, I told Chang to take it.
"Might be our last chance out here," I observed.
He pulled the car into the dirt driveway with a restaurant sign, and drove to a small building that looked more like a house than a diner.
"Quaint," he commented shutting off the engine and looking around.
There was a low white building with a little hand-lettered sign saying "open," and a veritable riot of colored flowers in front. Crocuses and daffodils grew in profusion, brightening up what might have otherwise been a drab structure.
"Quaint" was a bit of an understatement. There was a bird bath in the middle of the garden, and several bird houses on posts scattered throughout...and a flagstone path led to the door of the restaurant.
To our right was a dusty parking area bordered by a tall fence, which surrounded a shed of some sort. Judging from the trough and racks in the enclosure, it contained some sort of livestock.
As we got out of the car, Maxwell pulled on his leather jacket and tucked his braid under it without being reminded. I suddenly recalled he'd done the same thing at our last gasoline stop, too, and I had to resist the urge to praise him like a child that did his homework without being told. As Wufei had pointed out, he was no kid, and certainly didn't need to be treated as one.
On the other hand...we hadn't gotten six paces from the car before Maxwell veered from our path and headed towards the fence.
"Maxwell!"
"Keep your shorts on, Yuy," he said without looking back, but also without any real attitude. "I gotta see what's in the--whoa! What the hell's that?"
He stopped in his tracks as a curious head poked out of the shed. Then the shaggy brown and white llama it belonged to meandered out, approaching the fence and craning his neck to reach over it, as if seeking attention.
"It's a llama," I told him.
"Careful, Maxwell. They spit," Chang said, with a rather hopeful smirk.
His words startled an involuntary chuckle out of me. "Why'd you warn him, Chang? It would've been hilarious." God--I'd have paid good money to see Maxwell get spit on for a change.
He turned uncertainly towards us, clearly doubting Chang's warning. "Seriously?"
Reluctantly, I nodded. "If you piss 'em off, they spit."
He gave an irrepressible grin. "Kinda like me."
I shot him a deadly glare, but he'd already turned back to face the curious animal, clearly wanting to approach it, but nervous about the "spitting" we'd mentioned.
About then, a little girl came out of the barn; she was carrying a bucket, and heading straight for the llama pen. She wore overalls and pigtails, and looked to be all of nine or ten years old, if that; but she paused and smiled brightly when she saw Maxwell.
"Hey," she said by way of greeting.
He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, and grinned back at her. "Hey."
"Ain't ya gonna pet him?" she asked, cocking her head to one side and gesturing to the llama, who'd turned his attention towards the girl and the bucket she carried.
"He won't spit?"
The girl giggled as if he'd said something tremendously funny. "Him? No. He's the friendliest llama we've got. An' even the timid ones hardly ever spit. Ya gotta really scare them or make them mad." She headed for the fence with her bucket in hand.
Maxwell darted a look at Chang and me--a cross between defiance and uncertainty--before following the girl, who'd set the bucket down out of reach of the eager llama.
"Here." She scooped up a double handful of grain and held it out to Maxwell.
"What do I do with that?"
"Feed it to him, silly!"
"Uh--how?"
"With your hands."
Chang and I sauntered closer as Maxwell was trying to talk the girl out of pouring her fistfuls of grain into his cupped hands.
"But what if he bites--?"
"He can't. He only has teeth on the bottom--and he only uses those for grazing. All you'll feel are his lips."
I looked warily at the animal, noticing the shaggy mop of hair that hung over one of his enormous, soulful eyes. He really was innocuous looking, for the most part, and the hairstyle reminded me vaguely of Maxwell's friend Barton.
"I'll spill it!" Maxwell was protesting, as the girl dragged him right up to the fence--within reach of the questing nose of the llama.
"It's okay. The chickens will eat anything that falls on the ground."
Sure enough, several glossy red hens were trotting eagerly across the yard, apparently anticipating Maxwell's spillage.
"But--but--my hands are dirty!"
Apparently that was his last card, because when the girl assured him the llama wasn't particular about germs, he held his hands out and closed his eyes, peering through slits as the llama delicately lipped the food from his hands.
"Hey, it--tickles," he said, looking down at the pig-tailed girl with relief.
"'Course it does. I told you he won't bite."
"You said 'can't,'" Maxwell reminded her.
She shrugged unrepentantly. "I s'pose he could. Kind of. But it wouldn't hurt." She refilled Maxwell's hands after the llama had licked them clean--or as clean as a llama's lips were. "You sure are afraid of animals."
"I'm not!" he protested. "But I never saw one of these before. Reminds me of the camels at my friend's circus--and frankly, camels are nasty."
Now the little girl looked wide-eyed. "You've seen camels?"
"Yeah."
"Close up?"
"I got to ride one once," he said proudly.
"Wow."
Several more llamas, apparently realizing there was food in the offing, came trotting around from behind the barn, crowding together at the fence to beg for grain. Maxwell dug his hands into the bucket and headed over to feed them as well, while the girl went back to the barn for more grain.
Chang made a rude noise under his breath. "We'll be here all day, Yuy," he cautioned.
I had to admit, I was eager to get to the safe house. "Finish up, Maxwell!"
"Go ahead in," he replied, apparently settling in to feed every one of the greedy creatures.
"Not without you!" Chang snapped, walking over and taking a firm grip on Maxwell's arm, dragging him a few steps away from the questing noses of the hungry llamas.
"Hey, leggo!" Maxwell growled, jerking free and losing a handful of grain in the process.
"We don't have time for this!" Chang snapped back.
"For Christ's sake, it'll only take a few minutes!" retorted our witness, heading back towards the agitated group of animals, who were jostling each other to get closer to him.
"Grow up!" Chang snarled, grabbing Maxwell's arm again and literally yanking him away from the fence.
For fuck's sake--were they going to get into a fistfight out here?
Maxwell broke Chang's grip and took a couple of steps back, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture. "Keep your fucking hands off me!" he growled.
The girl was coming back out, carrying a fresh bucket of grain, and I cleared my throat loudly. "Audience, gentlemen!" I snapped in warning.
Chang glanced at me, and Maxwell shoved him in the chest, sending him stumbling back a few feet. I vaguely registered that the animals in the pen were milling about restlessly and making odd noises.
And then the little farm girl yelled "Duck!"
To his credit, Maxwell dove for the ground, as a good, conscientious protected witness should; while Chang turned towards the girl, a hand dropping to his concealed gun as he looked for the threat.
But he was looking in the wrong place and when one of the agitated llamas spit, it took him squarely in the side of the head.
For one frozen moment in time, we all stared in shock.
And then Maxwell simply dissolved into hysterics, curling up on the ground and laughing so hard I didn't think he could breathe.
Fuck, but I wanted to join him. In fact, I doubled over, putting a hand over my mouth and nose and squinting my eyes shut to try to control the laughter. But it was no use.
"I swear to God, Yuy--if you laugh I'll kill you!" Chang snarled.
I just shook my head, refusing to look up.
Maxwell had apparently gotten a gulp of air, because he guffawed loudly, writhing on the grass and clutching his stomach. "Th-that's th-the funniest th-thing I've ever s-s-seen!"
About then a woman came dashing out of the diner, waving a dishcloth. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"
I'd managed to push myself almost upright, and wiped the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket, my throat aching with the need to release the laughter I was choking back. But the sight of the pretty blonde woman wiping the llama spit from the side of Chang's head was too much, and I turned partially away, trying to hide the shaking of my shoulders.
"They never do things like that normally!" the woman was babbling. "Annie, I told you to grain them all before we open for breakfast. You know how they get about their food."
"Aw, mom--."
"It's not her fault," Wufei said stiffly, his voice so cold you could've used it to refreeze the polar ice caps. "My--friend there should have let your daughter alone with her chores." He gestured vaguely to the man still lying on the ground giggling helplessly and gasping for air.
Maxwell rolled over and struggled to his hands and knees; but every time he tried to look at Wufei, he bubbled over with laughter again and ended up slumping to the ground.
"Okay, it's not that funny!" Chang snapped. He took the cloth from the woman, nodding a painfully polite thanks, and walked over to grab Maxwell by the back of the collar and haul him to his feet.
With a little yelp that choked off as the fabric tightened around his throat, Maxwell made it upright, batting Wufei's hands away. "Yeah, it was!" he insisted, wheezing for breath. "God, Wuffers--your face, man--!" He shook his head. "I think I peed myself."
Chang stepped back, his horrified glance dropping to Maxwell's crotch.
The indigo-eyed man grinned wickedly. "Made ya look," he teased, walking over to me and throwing a companionable arm around my shoulders. "Let's go eat, Yuy. I'm starving!"
I thought of shrugging that arm off, but the gesture was so casual and relaxed that it didn't suggest anything overtly sexual or flirtatious, and considering that he was still almost breathless from laughing, I thought maybe Maxwell needed someone to lean on. Right?
Once we got inside, things settled down a bit. Wufei went to the washroom to clean up, and the woman who ran the diner finished apologizing and resumed her work. Maxwell calmed down and caught his breath, though it was obvious it wouldn't take more than a word to set him off again. Frankly, it wouldn't have taken much to set me off, either--and I carefully tried not to picture the incident again.
When Wufei slid into the seat across from me, his dark eyes just dared me to comment.
"I ordered you some tea," I said flatly, keeping my voice steady and matter-of-fact.
"Thank you," he said stiffly.
Maxwell had apparently decided he enjoyed living; he didn't even try to bait my partner again. Instead he seemed quite fixated on the menu. "Fresh-baked?" he said with a faint smile. "Hey--they make all their own bread here."
Chang brightened at that, looking over his own menu. "So they do," he said with a pleased tone. "At last--some real food."
He was right. There was fresh fruit on the menu, along with all sorts of freshly-made bakery products and the usual breakfast fare. It was definitely not a typical greasy-spoon joint.
"Doughnuts," Maxwell pointed out. "They make their own doughnuts."
"As if you need sugar," sighed my partner. "Doughnuts are nothing but fat, flour and sugar--disgusting."
Maxwell fixed both of us with a wide-eyed stare. "Don't all cops eat doughnuts?" he demanded.
I glared. "That's a stereotype, Maxwell. No. We don't all eat them."
"Don't like stereotypes?" he asked rather snidely. "Then how come you think all strippers are prostitutes? Ya wanna talk about a stereotype?"
"I don't want to talk about them at all," I replied, dropping my voice to an undertone as the woman came back to bring our drinks and take our orders. "Low profile, Maxwell."
I needn't have worried. The woman was much too busy fussing over Wufei and apologizing for the llama incident to even glance Maxwell's way--let alone mine. I hoped that assuaged my partner's fears that all women gravitated to gay men.
We had a lovely breakfast of fresh eggs, farm-raised ham, and farm-grown potatoes. It was exceptional. And while Chang and I both insisted we had no interest in doughnuts, we let Maxwell talk us into buying half a dozen to take with us on the rest of the trip. We also bought a couple of loaves of fresh bread, some jam to go with it (Maxwell's idea), and a still-warm pie.
All three of us were in better spirits as we left the cozy little farmhouse. And the woman hadn't even asked about our destination or reason for passing through. I can't imagine that we blended into that particular scenery; but she seemed unfazed by strangers, and not at all curious about us. Thank God for small favors.
On the way out, Maxwell jogged once more across the lot, reaching boldly over the fence to pat his new-found friend on the nose. He turned a smirk towards Wufei. "Hey, Chang-baby...wanna come say bu-bye?"
My partner's shoulders stiffened, and he raised his chin resolutely. "Very well."
"What?" I asked in shock. "Chang--."
Dark eyes turned a dangerous look my way. "I believe in facing my fears, Yuy. I won't let Maxwell lord this over me for the rest of our imprisonment with him."
Nice way to word it...imprisonment. Chang always did have an interesting turn of phrase. But I had to admit, I was impressed by the way he sidled up to the fence and cautiously allowed the llama to sniff his outstretched hand, before briefly scratching it behind the ears. He looked quite satisfied as he turned and headed back my way, having proved himself capable of shrugging off the unpleasant incident.
Maxwell was smirking as he sauntered along behind my partner and climbed back into the car. "Wake me when we get there," he said, yawning prodigiously and settling in among the suitcases and bags. He draped his long legs over a duffel bag, and stretched out as best he could. "Gonna fuckin' be great to sleep in a real bed again," he sighed before drifting off.
~*~
With our willful charge sound asleep, the rest of the drive passed uneventfully. We saw barely any signs of civilization, passing through one or two small villages and an occasional scattering of houses. And by noon, we were turning onto an unlabelled private road that led onto Winner's hunting preserve.
When we pulled up to what the lawyer had described as a cozy log cabin, even Wufei's jaw dropped in amazement. "That's Winner's idea of 'cozy'?" he blurted.
The place had to have at least three bedrooms, and was a showpiece of a home, with foot-thick logs for walls, and a wide porch running the full length of one side. There was a lovely view of the mountains from the porch, though I was fairly certain the place couldn't be seen from any roads.
"Defensible," I noted, eyeing the solid construction. "It has more windows than I'd like, but we can certainly do something about that...motion sensors or contact switches. Plus, there's a built-in alarm system."
I got out at the garage and keyed the pad for the automatic door opener. It rose to reveal a spacious, three-bay structure containing a gleaming silver SUV and a vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle. Gesturing Chang to drive in, I headed for the door to the house, hitting the switch to close the garage back up, and feeling an immediate sense of relief.
We'd made it to safety--at least for the time being.
I heard the engine shut off while I was deactivating the alarm system Winner had mentioned, and then I stepped into a mud room leading into a roomy kitchen. The place was simple, and yet had the finest of materials and handiwork in its construction, and I winced a little, hoping we didn't have to worry too much about messing anything up. I know Winner had insisted on us using it--but I doubted he'd appreciate any damage.
"Holy Hell," came an awed whisper behind me. "Quat wasn't shittin' me about this place," Maxwell commented, strolling in and tossing his backpack and one of his duffel bags into the corner. "Ve-rry nice. I could get comfy here."
"We're guests," Chang said curtly, arriving with some more of our luggage. "Don't plan on making yourself at home."
Maxwell turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Afraid I'm not fuckin' housebroken?" he asked snidely.
"Are you?" came the arch response.
"Bite me, Chang," Maxwell shot back, stalking off down the hallway to go exploring.
"Well, somebody woke up grumpy," noted my partner.
I didn't even want to know what might have transpired in the car after I got out.
"Let's unload only the essentials for now, and check in with the Captain," I suggested. "Then we can do a complete security survey and plan how we're going to work this--what kind of shifts we'll take, what supplies we'll need, and where and how we're going to restock them."
"While we're at it, we should instruct Maxwell on staying inside, and having one of us within earshot at all times...the usual."
Oh, that sounded like fun.
Just then, our witness came sauntering back into the kitchen, waving a small remote control. "We got cable!" he said happily. "Wide screen, high def. The whole shootin' match. I'm gonna have to thank Quat for this." His indigo eyes settled on me with a sly look. "Thanks to you, I know just what he might like, too." Smirking wickedly, he headed for the garage, hips swaying suggestively as he walked.
"Where are you going?" Chang demanded, onyx eyes stern.
"To check out the Harley," came the reply. "That is one sweet-looking machine!" Maxwell paused in the doorway of the mud room. "Y'think Quat would mind if I took it for a ride?"
"Yes!" Chang and I snapped in unison.
A laugh echoed behind him as Maxwell disappeared into the garage.
"Tell me there are no keys for that--thing," Chang begged.
"Winner said they're in the breadbox," I shrugged, walking over and opening it. Sure enough, there they were. I stuffed them into my pocket immediately, leaving the SUV keys where they were. "No worries," I told my partner.
He just gave a skeptical snort.
TBC...
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