Witness Protection Part 24
You Just Can't Trust Broads
I didn't tell Maxwell that Winner and Barton would be coming to visit. First off, I didn't want to get his hopes up, in case Captain Po vetoed the whole idea once she heard about it. And secondly, I didn't want him worrying about them getting to us safely.
Frankly, I had my own worries. If they were followed, it could be the death of us all. I hoped both men were shrewd enough to cover their tracks. They wouldn't be able to tell anyone where they were going, or for how long. Nor could they just blissfully drive out of the city and assume no one would get suspicious and try to pursue them. They'd have to leave as abruptly and decisively as Chang and I had.
I hoped they understood all that entailed.
I pushed those worries to the back of my mind as I headed downstairs to fill Chang in on the possibilities.
He was in the kitchen defrosting a nondescript package of meat in the microwave, and looked up as I entered. "All's quiet outside, Yuy. I think we've found a genuine safe haven here."
I shook my head, not so complacent. "It's only a matter of time, Chang. Knowing Winner supplied our last safe house, Khushrenada will eventually think of his sisters and start checking for property in their names within a radius of the log cabin." He darted me a wary look. "It's what I'd do," I added.
A frown creased his forehead. "That reminds me--I've been meaning to ask Maxwell if his girlfriend knew who his attorney was."
"She's not his girlfriend, and why?"
My partner did a double-take, and then just shook his head. "Girlfriend or not--she told Khushrenada he called, and gave him the phone number--but he's the one who sent people not to the town where the call originated, but to the Winner home an hour away."
Why had I not seen that?
I found myself staring wide-eyed at Wufei. "Shit, Chang. You have a point."
He nodded, looking a bit smug. "I've had some time to think about this. But I don't like where it leads."
"Right back to the precinct," I concluded. "There's still a leak there!"
"Exactly."
"I'm calling Po." I checked the battery, noting the charge was sufficient for only a couple more calls. And although we had a spare, because of the power required to bounce the signal, we couldn't rely on either battery lasting much longer.
I really did not want to resort to a land line--and without my laptop, I felt completely cut off. Why did they not make cell phones you could plug into a regular outlet, damn it? I mean, sure, you could use it and charge it at the same time--but it all came back to battery power eventually. And even rechargeable ones had limited life spans.
When my boss picked up, I felt a mixture of relief and worry. "Captain--I'm afraid I've got bad news."
There was a sharp intake of breath.
"No! Not that kind. He's fine," I asserted quickly. "But there's a huge leak in the precinct, and you need to nail it down quickly!"
"A leak? What kind of leak?"
"Have you interviewed the Schbeiker girl yet?"
"Yes, we picked her up right after you told us who Maxwell called."
That had been the same night of the big blow-up and Duo's subsequent malaise. I'd touched base with Po to tell her how we'd been compromised.
"What did she have to say?"
"Not much. She lawyered right up with Catalonia."
Of course she did. It was your typical case of "birds of a feather;" the cutthroat lawyer and the greedy stripper...two cold-hearted bitches. See why I preferred men?
"Shit." I rubbed my forehead wearily, plunking down in a chair. "Look, Captain. Chang and I have been talking, and we don't think the girl knew Maxwell's attorney. Back at the hospital she just called him 'Quatre,' and didn't seem to know anything about him except that he'd been at the apartment with Barton."
"Ah." Our Captain was a bright woman, and I was counting on her to put the rest of the pieces together. "So--if all she gave Khushrenada was a phone number that had no way of being traced to Winner--why did he send people to the nearest Winner property to the place the call was made from?"
"Exactly." I squirmed a little on my seat, knowing Chang wasn't going to like what I had to say next. "You have to consider that the leak is someone close to you, sir. Like a secretary, perhaps?"
"Are you serious?!" Chang and Po blurted in unison and in stereo.
I held the phone away from my ear, and glared at my partner. "I'm just saying--"
"Well stop saying it!' blurted Chang. "Relena has no ties to Khushrenada! For Christ's sake, Yuy, she's the police chief's daughter!"
"Yes, and Zechs Merquise's half-sister. But that's not the point."
"Of course it is! She's a nice, respectable girl! She doesn't even know she's related to scum like Merquise!"
"What was that?" asked Captain Po. "Did you guys just say Relena and Zechs Merquise are related?"
I felt like throwing the phone out the window. "Yes, but that has nothing to do with the matter at hand," I growled, trying to stay on task.
"It has everything to do with it!" Chang snapped. "Goddamnit, Yuy! You coddle a fucking criminal and then suggest that a sweet girl like Relena Darlian is in cahoots with Treize Khushrenada? Are you nuts?"
I stood up, facing him squarely. "No, I'm not. You claim I'm blind to Maxwell's faults--well, how about you and Relena? At least I acknowledge that Maxwell's got a checkered past! Are you willing to consider that Relena had access to the information that got compromised?"
"Of course she did. But she'd never give it to the likes of Khushrenada!"
You'd think someone who'd been jilted by a fickle woman wouldn't be so damned soft for a pair of big eyes and pouty lips. Talk about misplaced trust!
"Um, Yuy? Could we get back to the part where she's Merquise's sister?" Captain Po snapped in my ear.
Fuck.
I glared at Chang, got up, and took the phone outside to finish the call. I could hear him banging pots and pans around in the kitchen even from out on the deck.
"Look, Captain, we found out during the investigation that Relena's mother was also Merquise's. They were half-brother and sister. Relena doesn't know that, according to her father."
"You told the Chief?"
"He knew. We questioned him about it, and he told us the two had never had any contact; Lillian was divorced, and Relena never was told about her brother. He stayed with his father."
"I see."
"Now can we get back to the question of who's slipping information to Khushrenada?" I asked a bit petulantly. I really wanted to know.
"Very well. Admittedly, Relena saw Winner with you and Chang the night we made plans to put Maxwell into protective custody."
"Yes, and she knew I had a witness in the Khushrenada case--I even described Maxwell to her that night that Mueller showed up at the station. And then, when I checked in that first time she'd realized Chang and I were on a protective detail."
"So, she had the information. But what about motive? She's got no ties to Khushrenada, and she never knew her brother--so why would she have reason to tip anyone off--especially her brother's accused killer?"
"I--don't know," I admitted. "But--I just want to be sure you keep her out of the loop from now on--in case."
"Winner is a public defender, Yuy. Don't you think Khushrenada could have just guessed that he was Maxwell's attorney?"
"Well, sure. But why would he think a P.D. would house a protected witness in his vacation home?"
"Hm. That bears some thought," she conceded. "Clearly someone in the department has fed him information. Winner's been to see me several times, and it's not outside the realm of possibility that the desk sergeant or some of the other office staff have put two and two together."
"But only Relena was there that first night. And if she listened in--"
"Oh, Heero--that's quite the accusation," came a disapproving reply. "It's just as possible someone's been sitting out in the street with a listening device trying to pick up on my phone conversations. You have to consider, with the technology available, there are a million ways for information to leak."
"Then fucking plug them!" I snapped, pacing angrily across the deck. "For God's sake, Captain--make sure we don't end up dodging bullets and bombs again! Maxwell's hanging on by a goddamned thread right now! The pressure's getting to all of us--to the point where I called Winner tonight and had him calm his client down!" Okay, technically I had him cheer Maxwell up, but either way, he'd had a soothing influence. "We need you to put a lid on things at that end, while we keep it together here."
"I will," she said simply. "But I'm not going to make wild accusations either. I'll watch for suspicious behavior--from anyone. And I'll tighten security--a lot."
"Don't ignore the slightest possibility of a leak," I cautioned. "Trust no one."
"Do you trust me?" she asked almost teasingly.
"I have to, or there's no point to this," I replied. "Besides, if you were the leak, we'd already be dead."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she said dryly.
"One more thing," I told her. "Winner's probably going to contact you today or tomorrow. Meet him away from the office, would you?"
"I can do that."
"And warn him before he says a word that there's a huge risk involved."
"I'll do that, too."
God--on some level I felt like I was overreacting--but the thought that Relena, or someone with access to even more information, was feeding it to Khushrenada made me a bundle of nerves.
"Tell him that the plans he and I made will require complete secrecy." I shook my head. "But frankly, maybe getting Barton and him away from the city is a good idea."
"I don't follow you. Is he going somewhere?"
"I've advised him to," I said carefully, once again paranoid about being overheard. So far we'd only discussed leaks and possibilities--not future plans. I didn't want to say anything about Winner's imminent visit--nothing that would make someone start watching him, if they weren't already. "Tell him he's probably under surveillance, and he should act accordingly. The same for Barton. If anyone suspects they're up to anything, they won't get far."
"Are you suggesting they might be targeted?"
"Yes." Actually, I was more concerned that they might be followed--to us. "Just warn him that he could be watched, followed, or attacked--anywhere he goes."
There. I hadn't said he was coming to us--but I wanted Captain Po to let him know how risky it was--which was why having her preface their conversation with news of the department leak would make him guard his words carefully.
"I can't call him again," I added. "Too risky. And I don't want you to. But when he checks in, get him away and alone so he can tell you what he and I discussed--okay?"
"Will do." She sounded a bit befuddled by all the intrigue--and I think she thought I was being a bit melodramatic. But then, she hadn't seen Chang's bullet-ridden shirt, or been bounced around the back of an SUV on a logging road while being shot at. I thought I was being reasonably cautious.
~*~
When I got back inside, Maxwell was in the kitchen with Wufei, and they'd gotten into yet another altercation. And while I was glad Maxwell's spirit was returning, making him confrontational again was not what I'd had in mind when I called Winner.
"She sold you out, Maxwell!" Wufei was snarling. "Why in Hell would you not want them to prosecute her?"
Maxwell had his hands flat on the table, his eyes ablaze with a familiar light. "She's got a kid, Chang--a little boy. And if they throw her in jail, the kid'll end up in foster care and get fuckin' swallowed by the System!"
"Tough!" Chang blurted. "His mother's a stripper and now a felon--he'd be better off in foster care."
"No, he wouldn't!" Maxwell retorted. "Hilde works her ass off to keep him fed and clothed and pay for immunizations and doctor's visits! She loves that kid."
"She sold you out for that kid," I pointed out quietly.
"Yeah, I know--and that's why I can't really blame her," Maxwell said, calming slightly. "The money--"
"--would keep the kid in diapers for years," I finished for him, and he nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor. "So you don't want to see her punished for nearly getting you killed?"
He shrugged slightly. "I guess--it's partly my fault anyway. She kind of thought there was more to our friendship at first than there was--until she found out I was dating Zechs."
"She didn't know that when you first started working at Sanc?"
"No--Zechs stayed away. He may've gotten me the job, and I'm sure Dermail knew about us, but we kept a pretty low profile, publicly." He managed a rueful smile. "Hilde and I had a bit of a spat when she found out I was gay. She accused me of leading her on."
"Did you?" Chang asked archly, and once again I could feel that resentment in him towards gay guys and their effect on straight girls.
"Not on purpose," Maxwell shrugged, overlooking the harshness of my partner's tone. "But she was always looking for a potential husband--someone to help make ends meet and be a father figure. When I started at Sanc and was friendly and male, she thought she might've found that."
Chang snorted in disgust, and I sighed, shaking my head. "How long did you wait to set her straight?" I asked, wondering how much of the betrayal was based on money, and how much on emotion.
"Not very. Couple of weeks--maybe a month. We'd worked late and there was a guy who'd been kind of creeping Hilde out, so I walked her home. She came on to me, and I told her I was sorry, but I was gay and involved with someone. She blew up at me and stormed off, but the next day she apologized and asked if we could start over and just be friends again." He shook his head. "Even though she said that's all it was, sometimes the way she looked at me, I could tell she wanted more."
"You were a bodyguard. You looked out for her and kept her safe," I pointed out. "It's only natural she'd be attracted to you."
"She was attracted to the security, and the income," he said rather bitterly. "But--like I said, I don't blame her for trying. And I don't blame her for choosing her son over me, especially after I hurt her."
"--a woman scorned, eh?" I commented.
"Yeah, I guess," he said softly.
I watched him for a moment as he fiddled with the end of his braid, and Chang went back to working on supper. It was odd to see a side of Duo so different from the brassy punk. I could have pictured him sneering, shrugging nonchalantly, and saying "tough luck" to a girl like her; at least, I could picture the Duo Maxwell I'd met at first doing that. But the man standing restlessly in the kitchen was nothing like that. He seemed genuinely sorry to have disappointed her. Had all of his posturing and snideness been just for show? Or had it been just for cops?
He gave a little exasperated huff, looking at Wufei struggle with the package of half-thawed meat, and turned and walked out into the living room.
I watched my partner for a moment, amused by his stubbornness. "If you'd asked nicely, I'll bet he'd have cooked dinner."
Dark eyes shot an icy look my way. "I'd sooner starve."
Ah. It was too soon after a discussion of gender issues to approach him with anything like a reasonable attitude. I just shook my head. "You're a harsh man, Chang."
"I'm not the one who accused a lovely girl like Relena of being in league with Treize Khushrenada."
Oh. Right. I'd almost forgotten the issues left hanging between us. "I didn't accuse her. I merely pointed out that she had opportunity."
"But no motive."
"None that we know of," I conceded. "And I'm not suggesting we blame or accuse her--merely that the Captain should keep anyone and everyone at the precinct completely out of the information loop as much as possible."
My partner nodded stiffly, and there was an almost imperceptible decrease in the tension he'd been radiating. "A wise precaution," he admitted. "As long as it applies to everyone."
"Exactly." Feeling like I'd won a little forgiveness, I headed into the other room to see what Maxwell was up to. But he'd apparently already gone back upstairs.
And yes, I checked. Not that I thought he'd try anything--I was convinced by this time that he'd learned his lesson. But in all honesty, I wanted to be sure he was okay.
I even managed to convince myself I wasn't hoping for another glimpse of that pale skin and those muscular legs. Almost.
Lucky for me, Maxwell was in the shower, the sound of running water muted by the music he'd turned on in there--his usual choice of rock and roll with a decidedly primal beat.
Okay, maybe that wasn't so lucky. I was instantly assaulted with a mental image of him standing under the spray of hot water, swaying sensuously to that rhythm. And knowing he'd left the door slightly ajar as he'd done ever since the last safe house, didn't help much.
I retreated to my room to take care of a slight problem that had arisen, and hopefully have time for a shower of my own before checking to see if Chang had actually managed to manufacture anything resembling food for dinner.
We ended up eating frozen meals.
Well, Chang and I did. Maxwell didn't put in an appearance until after we'd consumed our less than satisfying repast. And when he did, he rummaged in the refrigerator and put together something for himself that smelled ten times better than the crap we'd settled for.
Chang was on the couch watching the news when I passed through on my way to take my turn at sleeping, and I whacked the back of his head on my way by. "I swear to God, Chang, if you let your pride deprive me of decent food again, I'll drown you in the hot tub."
He had the decency to look chastened, and sort of slump down further into his seat. "Point taken, Yuy. And my stomach agrees."
"Hn."
I stomped up the stairs in a bit of a snit, and went to bed feeling decidedly unsatisfied--both by the "meal" we'd had, and by the self-gratification I'd indulged in while imagining Duo in the shower. What made it worse was knowing I probably didn't have to masturbate with Maxwell in the house. Make that definitely. He'd given me plenty of hints--and it was pretty obvious he'd have been willing to act on the slightest encouragement from me.
I was feeling pretty sorry for myself when I curled up in bed alone and tried to shut off my meandering thoughts long enough to drop off to sleep.
~*~
I guess eventually I succeeded, because the next thing I knew it was dawn, and Wufei was tapping on my door.
"Your turn to baby sit, Yuy," he called, and I heard him trudge down the hallway to his own room.
It didn't take me long to dress, freshen up in the bathroom, and make my way downstairs. But I was startled by the sight of Maxwell up and about at that hour. He'd spent days lying abed and moping--and I had to admit, it was a relief to see him break from that routine.
He was sitting in the bay window, curled up in a blanket with his braid trailing over the side. He had his knees drawn up in front of him and a sketch pad laid across them, and it looked like he might be drawing a picture of the sunrise over the lake. He seemed so much calmer--less tense than he had the day before--that I was instantly glad I'd made the phone call to Winner.
While I might have worried that Maxwell was in such an exposed position by the big picture window, it felt so very secure up there in the mountains, and he looked so much more relaxed than he'd been before, that I hated to disturb his peace.
Instead, I mumbled a brief "good morning" and made my way to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea instead of the coffee we had so often. Something about the quiet dawn over the lake, and the tranquil scene in the living room made it seem appropriate.
Maxwell hadn't moved from his comfy seat when I returned with a cup for him as well as one for myself.
"Thanks." He took the cup without looking at me, his gaze instead resting on the distant hills.
I pulled up a chair, settling in with my own tea, and suddenly finding the silence as disturbing as Maxwell's loud music had once been. "Do you want the radio on?"
He shook his head. "Believe it or not, sometimes I don't mind a little peace and quiet, Yuy." A faint smile quirked his lips as he sipped from his cup.
I found myself almost smiling back, glad his attitude had improved so much from just one phone call. "I thought you craved noise and action."
"I feel safe there," he said quietly--pensively. "I'm at home in loud, crowded places. Doesn't mean I never considered any other kind of existence." His expression shifted just slightly. On anyone else I'd have called it melancholy. But melancholy and Duo Maxwell just didn't fit in the same sentence. "Zechs used to talk about buying a place somewhere far away--an island maybe--or a chalet on a lake--something like this place." The indigo eyes darted me a look from under thick lashes. "Y'know he wanted out."
"Out?"
"Out of the business--out from under Oz and Khushrenada--away from the politics and intrigue--from always having to watch his back and be one step ahead of his enemies." A wry smile touched his lips. "He had a lot of enemies."
"Powerful men often do."
Maxwell drew a deep, shuddering breath, leaning back against the frame of the bay window. "He was a very, very powerful man," he whispered, closing his eyes momentarily.
"You miss him."
He swallowed hard. I could see his throat move, and his jaw tighten as if to hold back a sound of pain. "I loved him," he said flatly, shrugging one shoulder and opening his eyes, keeping them fixed on some point far outside. "'Course I miss him."
While I had a momentary urge to push him--to prod at that admission and ask if he loved the man or the money--I couldn't make myself do it. His statement had been too stark to be mocked. He meant it. It wasn't about the power or the prestige of being Merquise's lover. He'd had some genuine feelings for the man.
"How did you meet him?"
That question brought his distant gaze into focus, and he took a long sip of tea, smiling into the cup. "Long story," he said quietly.
"We're stuck in the middle of nowhere for the foreseeable future," I pointed out. "I have time to listen to a lot of long stories."
The indigo eyes darted me a look, somewhere between wary and predatory. "You have time, Yuy--but I imagine there's ways you'd rather spend it." He shook his head and looked away again. "Why don't you call that Darlian chick and have a little phone-sex, hm? Mister Heterosexual?"
"And why don't you drop the attitude?" I shot back. "Every time you let your guard down a little and we start to have the beginnings of a civil conversation, you have to hide behind that attitude."
"What attitude?"
"The one that makes you get hostile and suggestive any time anyone gets close."
He turned a very direct look at me then, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah--you've been close, detective. About as close as you can get--" His gaze dropped to my lap, and he licked his lips in a very deliberate attempt to fluster me. "And don't try to say you didn't like it."
"I didn't," I said evenly. "I didn't like having my gun held on me, and I didn't like losing control the way I did."
"But you liked the sex, didn't you?"
I snorted derisively. "No shit, Maxwell."
"Then what's your problem?"
"My problem is that I prefer to have sex with someone I feel something for. It's not just about getting off--it's supposed to mean something." I quelled the urge to sneer at him, and continued in a steady, almost conversational tone. "It means nothing to you. It's just a way to kill time or a device to manipulate someone. You use it to get what you want. So why don't you stop denying you're a whore and be honest about it?"
Something flared in his eyes at that--probably the most real emotion I'd ever seen in him. "I'm not a whore, damn it! I don't have sex for money, and I don't do it to use people!"
"Then why?" I demanded. "Why have sex with a cop who's trying to protect you, when you know it's something he doesn't want?"
"You wanted it. Whether you admit it or not, you know you did."
"Maybe," I conceded. "But I sure as hell didn't want it at gunpoint. Why'd you force the issue like that?"
"Because maybe I needed to feel something besides fear that Khushrenada's bounty hunters were hiding in every shadow!" he blurted angrily, his face flushed with emotion. "And maybe it's the only way I know to shut off my paranoia!" He drew a deep, shuddering breath, rubbing at his face with a shaking hand. "Maybe it's the only thing I've ever found real comfort or solace in. Fuck--maybe it's the only thing I've ever been good at."
I stared at him in open amazement, seeing him without the arrogant swagger or the crude front he put up like a shield. He was scared out of his mind. Just like any other victim of any other crime I'd investigated. He'd seen his lover murdered, known that someone would figure that fact out and want him dead, and had nowhere to turn for help. The police were no friends to him--and any friends he had were powerless against the likes of Khushrenada and the Oz syndicate. Merquise had probably been the only security he'd ever known.
He glared at me, still breathing hard from the vehemence of his outburst. "Don't look at me like that!"
"Like what?"
"With pity! I don't want your goddamned pity!"
"Pity?" I hadn't been aware of pitying him--only of seeing him for the first time as a true victim, instead of a co-conspirator in the whole mess. "I don't pity you, Maxwell."
"Then what's that expression for?"
"I just realized--for the first time, I guess--how much you lost when Merquise was killed."
Duo looked away to hide the flash of pain that crossed his face. "No shit, detective. I lost my job, my income, my home and friends, and my lover. Not much else they could take, is there?"
"Your life," I pointed out, albeit a bit reluctantly. He'd just confessed to being afraid of Khushrenada's reach, and I hated to bring up the subject.
"They'll get that soon enough, won't they?" he asked bitterly, finishing his tea and leaning his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.
"Not if we get them first," I said coldly, thinking how much pleasure I'd take in removing Khushrenada from the streets permanently. "And once we have Khushrenada put away, you'll have a fresh start--wherever you want."
He made a slightly snide sound. "Fresh start. I've had plenty of those, Yuy. Every time I got sent back to the orphanage that's what the priest and nun used to say. 'Just consider this another chance, Duo. You can start over fresh with the next family.' What a load of crap." He opened his eyes, fixing me with a pain-filled glare. "I had a fresh start with Solo and the rest of the Reapers, too...it was almost like a family for awhile. Until the Rebels finished 'em off in that warehouse while I was in lock-up."
Goddamn! The more I learned about Maxwell's past, the more painful it looked. Our first near-meeting in the squad room the day before the gang ended up obliterated had been pretty damned adversarial. But having heard about the crooked cops and their misconduct, I could better understand Maxwell's bitterness over the incident. He'd missed out on the attack--hadn't been there for his friends--and for damn sure never got any kind of closure. It's not like any of the bodies had ever been identified at all. Hell, I think some of them were probably bulldozed under with the charred remains of the warehouse.
"And then I met Trowa at the circus where he worked, and he invited me to audition for the club he performed in during the off season," Maxwell continued, as if now that he'd begun he couldn't stop the flow of words. "He taught me how to dance--said I had natural grace and rhythm. And he introduced me to Noin--got me in the door and into a job."
"So how'd you end up in Merquise's bed?" I asked, still curious as to what drew the wealthy socialite and club owner to an admittedly handsome man who stripped for a living.
Maxwell gave me an all-too perceptive look. "Still can't believe he'd stoop so low, eh?"
"You're twisting my words, Maxwell. While Merquise may have owned The Jungle, I doubt he frequented the place on a regular basis. I just wondered how you two crossed paths."
"You're right. He didn't come to the club often--and when he did, he was up in the VIP lounge--not down where he could catch the floor show."
"So--how'd you meet?"
"He audited the books."
I looked blankly at Maxwell, and he smiled patiently.
"I was a top earner at the time. Nights when Tro' and I danced the club took in twice the usual receipts." Maxwell fumbled in his pocket for his cigarettes, and pulled one out, tucked the box back away, and lit it. "We went by the stage names Shinigami and Nanashi--and with the henna makeup and our costumes, they called the act The Big Cats. Tro' kind of had that whole leopard look down to an art, and I got painted up like a tiger. Damn hot--both of us," he said with a faintly proud smirk. "We did a two-man performance that had 'em jerkin' off in their seats more often than not."
I didn't doubt it for a minute. What little I'd caught of Trowa's solo act had been erotic beyond belief--and just the thought of the two of them stroking each other, dancing against each other, kissing and fondling on stage--
Jesus fucking Christ, I had to stop thinking like that!
Maxwell raked me with an appraising look. "Thinking about it, aren't ya?"
"I--happened to catch your partner on stage the night Wufei and I tracked you down," I admitted, blushing at the raspy catch to my voice. "Very--artistic."
"Fuckin' hot," he grinned, glancing at my lap to see if he got the reaction he wanted.
I was sitting with my cup of tea held between my hands, more or less across my lap--so he couldn't tell that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. But I think he knew. "So, Merquise noticed you were bringing in an audience," I said quickly, trying to keep him on topic and his mind off my crotch.
He turned his face away, still wearing that smug expression. "Yeah. He stopped by one night to talk to Noin about it--happened to see us working--and wanted to meet me."
He darted a challenging look my way. "Surprised a big-shot like him would bother with street trash?"
"Street trash that looks like you?" I countered smoothly. "I can see why he'd be curious...even interested."
Maxwell blinked, looking as if he'd been taken off guard by my admission that he was attractive.
"So what did he do?" I continued, wanting to keep the snide young man off-balance a bit longer. "Have Noin set you up?"
"No. Zechs was far more direct than that," Maxwell asserted. "I got off stage and back to my dressing room--hot, sweaty and tired--and when I walked in, he was there leaning on the wall by the door--looking like he fuckin' owned the place."
I smirked at that. "He did."
"Yeah, and if I'd known who he was at the time, I might've been aware of that fact," Maxwell admitted. "But all I saw was a really fine-looking guy with waist-length hair. I told him he was in the wrong dressing room and to shove off and take one of the ones down the hall."
I couldn't help it. I chuckled at the thought of a stripper ordering Zechs Merquise out of a dressing room in a club he owned. Not only ordering him out--but mistaking him for another stripper!
"Sure--laugh it up, Yuy," Maxwell muttered, coloring slightly. He looked almost like a kid with the faint rosy hue creeping up his cheeks and a sheepish grin on his face.
"Can't help it," I replied, subsiding. "It's just the thought of Merquise being ordered around by a--a stripper."
"We prefer the term 'exotic dancer,'" Maxwell growled at me.
I laughed all the harder at that, finding my amusement level too high to be suppressed. "Call it whatever you want," I suggested. "But I still think it's hilarious that you mistook Merquise for another dancer."
"Yeah, well--he was less than amused," Maxwell admitted. "But all things considered, he took it well. He told me I was mistaken--that he wasn't an employee of the club--at which point, I slipped a hand in the pocket of my jacket, pulled out the .38 I used to carry, and pointed it at his face."
I had to clutch my stomach by that time, wishing to God I'd been a fly on the wall for the whole ill-fated meeting. Merquise's expression must have been priceless! "Oh fuck, Maxwell! You drew on Zechs Merquise? And you're still alive?"
Maxwell looked away. "I thought you wanted the story, Yuy. If you don't want to know, I can stop right now."
"No! No--keep going," I urged, regaining control. "I just can't believe how many blunders you made meeting a man like Merquise."
"Neither could he," came the wry response. "Probably the only reason he didn't call the bouncers to come dispose of me." Maxwell shrugged a little. "Anyhow, he very politely told me there was no need for violence--he was neither an obsessed fan nor a would-be rapist. And when he said 'Allow me to introduce myself,' I told him I didn't care if he was the president of the fuckin' United States--I wanted him out of my dressing room or I'd start shooting."
I shook my head, grinning. "Do go on."
"He said he wasn't the president, merely the humble owner of a few strip clubs, and that he only came to my room to offer his thanks to the dazzling creature who was lining his pockets by drawing a crowd with the most erotic act he'd ever seen." Maxwell shook his head. "After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I asked if this was the part where he'd also tell me I'd just talked my way out of the best-paying job I'd ever found. He said 'no.' It was the part where he wanted to discuss an even better-paying job."
"Quite the guy," I conceded, picturing the level of nerve it took for Zechs Merquise to stare down Duo Maxwell with a gun and then offer him a better gig. The man was full of surprises--which was probably one of the reasons we'd never been able to pin any real charges on him. He was smooth, shrewd, and very, very inventive; a worthy adversary, in Wufei's words--at least for a drug dealer.
"Oh, it gets better," Maxwell told me, his tone no longer defensive or evasive. He seemed to be getting into telling the story. "I figured that was nothing more than a proposition and I told him I wasn't a whore--not for any price."
I splayed a hand over my face, torn between laughing again and groaning at Maxwell's bungling. "Un-fucking-believable! You insulted him...threatened him...and then insulted him all over again!"
"Yeah, I guess I did," Maxwell said with a small, rueful laugh. "He finally took pity on me and laid it all out plainly. He said he had no intention of asking me to be a whore, for him or anyone else. And then he asked if I'd have dinner with him." The indigo eyes closed as Maxwell leaned his head back again. "Hard t'believe, isn't it? But it's true. He waited outside while I cleaned up and changed and then took me to the best restaurant in the city--fed me a five-star meal and then asked if I'd consider dating him." He shook his head. "I told him that's what I'd just done, and he told me he wanted to make it a regular thing. Only he didn't think his jealous nature would tolerate my stripping for other men while I was supposed to be his--so he wondered if I'd consider a job playing bodyguard for some of the girls at the Sanc Palace."
"I see," I said with a wide smile. "So even blinded by your beauty, he noticed you were no pushover, eh?"
Duo grinned back. "Yeah. I kinda think it was the .38 that convinced him there was more there than met the eye." He looked out across the yard, and then his smile faded and he glanced aside at me from under his bangs. "Look, Yuy--about before--when I took your gun--"
I immediately hated the conciliatory tone in his voice and interrupted whatever apology he might be about to deliver. "Forget it, Maxwell. I understand you were just missing your piece." I kept my tone light--a little snide. "Maybe we can pick up a gun-shaped lighter somewhere, to satisfy your fetish."
He gawked at me, clearly puzzled by the wry humor and lack of malice in my voice. "I'm trying to apolo--"
"Shut up!" I said a bit sharply. I didn't want to hear him say he was sorry for holding a gun on me, and I especially didn't want to hear how much he regretted coercing me into sex. While I'd made it clear I didn't like the way he'd brought it about--I had also admitted it was--enjoyable. And I wasn't going to have him spoil it by explaining whatever warped logic had prompted his actions.
When I'd said I liked to care about my partners, I meant it. And while I hadn't honestly cared about Duo at the time--I was beginning to now. If he told me he'd just been trying to mess with my head, I was liable to go right back to hating him...and that was never a good attitude to have towards a protected witness.
"I was only going to apologize for the way I forced you," he said quietly, as if he'd read every thought that just raced through my mind. "I wasn't going to say I was sorry." He pushed off the seat and stood up, heaving a weary sigh. "I'm gonna catch a nap," he muttered, keeping his eyes averted. "Nothing else to do in this dive." While the words sounded like his usual sullen ramblings, there was no real feeling behind them any more. He simply sounded--defeated.
I bit back words of consolation. I was almost tempted to tell him I wasn't sorry either--because I was no longer sure I was. Granted, I could get fired for a slipup like that--for allowing him to get his hands on my gun as well as for having sex with someone who'd been placed under my protection. But I knew he'd never tell anyone about it.
What I didn't know was why he'd done it in the first place. For all his talk of killing time, it hadn't been about that. In fact, considering the timing, it had probably been his way to ground himself again after risking his life to go out clubbing. But why he'd chosen me to satisfy that need instead of the willing participant at the club, I didn't know.
Just bad timing--you were in the right place at the right time. Or make that the wrong place! Definitely the wrong place at the wrong time. Any warm body would have served his purpose...right?
TBC...
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