Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Intersections, Part 1 ( Chapter 19 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 19/?

~~~~~~~

Note: This fic was written in response to Nova Una's challenge to the 1x2ML to write a Gundam Wing/Pretty Woman fusion fic with Heero in the Julia Roberts role and Duo in the Richard Gere role.

Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, citrusy situations, suggestive dialog, significant (read that as major, MAJOR) deviation from Pretty Woman script as I see fit. Gratuitous insertion of red herrings throughout.

Spoilers: None for GW, quite a bit for Pretty Woman.

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no money being made, yadda yadda. Written for fun, not profit.

Edulcorate (verb) - To free from harshness (as of attitude); to soften

~~~~~~~

Chapter 19 - Intersections, Part 1

Heero was feeling ridiculously pleased, and allowed himself the indulgence rather than secreting it away in his heart.

Duo's largesse had paid for a vast array of programs. Graphic design, communication and analytical software, and even several games.

He had honestly created the computer as something he would have designed for his own use, but Duo wasn't the only one who could use the laptop as a means of personality assessment. He wanted to laugh at the name. Laptop. Somehow he didn't think that would be an appropriate term, especially when the time came to reveal it to Duo.

Duo had granted him free time once the computer arrived, and by implication, set up as well. Heero frowned. He was a free man; slavery having been abolished long ago in this country, and yet here he was, acknowledging as fact Duo's right to dictate his comings and goings.

He sat back and mulled over the past few days, and then the sex he'd had with Duo the previous night. He drummed his fingers on the table where he'd set up the computer.

Something hadn't been quite right last night. It seemed that the balance of power shifted several times, and all he could say with any certainty was that, physically, they'd both come away from the experience with some sort of fulfillment. Maybe it was that seesawing feeling that had brought him to completion without any penile contact. Maybe it was the surge of power he'd felt when Duo had lost control and started pounding into him like any other john.

The night he'd approached Duo's car, well, Duo's friend's car, he'd adopted an aloof, yet cocky and sarcastic, manner. So different from the normal vibes of barely contained danger he gave off. Quatre was the one who'd pointed out that was his selling point, the element of danger. From the moment Quatre pointed the car out, he'd reached into a part of his personality that hadn't been tapped in a while. All the while, though, he'd been the one in control. Duo hadn't known what to think when he'd demanded payment just to give him directions to the hotel.

Then Duo had gone and defied all his expectations, and yet here he was, still enduring the maelstrom of confusion that enveloped him whenever he tried to make sense of Duo's actions.

He'd been up against people like Duo before. He'd tried to block out so much of his former life, he'd really been blind to a lot of clues that were right in front of him. It was time to put his God-given intelligence to good use again.

A small smile played about his lips. Duo had no idea whom he was dealing with. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized Duo had no idea about a lot of things.

But that was going to change.

~~~~~~

Ever since he'd hung up the phone, Trowa had been standing behind the bar with his arms crossed, moving only to serve the occasional patron. Normally this was his favorite time of day, when there was enough business to keep things profitable, but not so much that he felt he had to be on guard at all times. Granted, the excitement helped break the monotony of days like today, but it also meant that he had to keep his attention from focusing too long on one thing.

Like he was doing right now.

He'd known Quatre for nearly a year, and Heero for not half that time, but at times it seemed like they'd always been friends.

Trowa didn't consider many people his friends, distrustful by nature, a trait that was only accented by events in his past.

His thoughts returned to Heero. Quatre had seemed edgy after Heero had called the other day. He had only the vaguest of ideas what was going on with the quiet young man he'd grown to respect. A lot of people tended to open up to him, as they often did around bartenders and hairdressers, but Heero was tight as a clam. And Quatre...Quatre defied categorization.

He was startled when Quatre called over, in a teasing tone of voice, "aren't you going to get that? Or are you mad at Heero for some reason?"

He looked over at the ringing phone and back at Quatre, who was flirting outrageously with a man he'd never seen before, who had somehow been roped into the poker game. Diversionary tactics, he mused, then picked up the phone.

"Heero," he said.

"Quatre's there," Heero's voice said. If Trowa didn't know any better, he'd swear he could hear the man almost smiling.

"Of course."

Heero pondered those words. Of course. Where else would Quatre be, after all?

"Winning or losing?"

"Flirting."

"Ah."

They were both silent for a moment, Heero's brows wrinkled in momentary confusion, Trowa's attention drifting over to the sounds of laughter as Quatre got the newcomer to blush furiously.

"Keep him out of trouble," Heero finally said, then hung up.

Trowa nodded, to no one in particular, as he hung up the phone, and went back to his previous activity of people watching.

Heero removed the slim headset he'd attached to the laptop and ruffled his hair. They worked better than most phones he'd used, and the signal was crystal clear.

He reflected on his brief conversation, if it could be called that, with Trowa.

Strange. Heero wanted to go out on a limb and say that something was going on with Quatre. He would have sworn he detected the slightest trace of concern in Trowa's voice. Before he put any faith in that feeling, though, he had to first test his newfound intuition. He'd deal with Quatre at the end of the week, if need be.

~~~~~~

Duo read through the pamphlet Meiran had given him and checked the time and date printed on the front.

It wasn't anything earth shattering, and he wasn't sure what Heero would think of it, but it would give him a chance to put to good use that addition to Heero's wardrobe he'd requested on Tuesday.

He leaned back in the chauffeured car and closed his eyes. He was looking forward to this evening with just a touch of trepidation, excitement at seeing the results of his machinations.

His elbow hit the briefcase, knocking it off the seat. On its way to the floor, it hit the button to the radio in the back of the car.

The loud brash music that spewed from the overhead speaker made him wince, and he reached out and snapped it off.

He had to agree with Janet on that one. "...if the musical selection is forced...then it causes agitation..." He shook his head.

Force. Agitation.

His mind was abuzz with thoughts of Peacecraft, Zodiac, and the firm in Nevada. The persistent, nagging feeling that he was missing something vital. His failed relationship with Hilde. Wufei and Meiran.

And Heero.

~~~~~~

"Any progress?" Meiran said, seating herself at one of the chairs and placing a paper bag on the table.

Wufei removed his glasses and gently laid them on the table. He seemed hesitant.

"Some," he relented.

Meiran removed the sandwiches from the bag and slid one of them over to him. She pulled out two small cartons, a milk and a juice, and they followed the sandwich to Wufei's side of the table.

"Eat."

Wufei hadn't thought he'd be able to stomach a single bite, but he managed to eat the entire sandwich. Meiran kept the conversation light, commenting on the art prints in the conference room, and suggesting that the firm should look into something more contemporary.

"What are you up to?" he finally asked.

She smiled at him, the same smile she'd bestowed upon Duo in the lobby.

Wufei repressed a shudder of desire coupled with a hint of fear at her predatory look.

"I think we should go to the bar," she said, not answering his question.

"You want us to go to a bar?"

"Not A bar. THE Bar. It's a little place on Hollywood Boulevard. I heard about it from one of The Wives," she said, making little quotation marks with her fingers for the last two words.

The tiny spark of fear was igniting into something resembling nervousness.

"Hollywood Boulevard."

She pinned him with eyes so black her pupils were indistinct from her irises.

"If you say one thing about Duo and Heero, I will make sure we are never able to have children." Then she smiled again. "I think we need to go somewhere less restrictive," she said. "Someplace that doesn't have a dress code. Someplace where no one will be catering to you because they want something from you." Those eyes were back in full force. "A place where we can TALK."

The gauntlet had been thrown. He'd known it was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Tonight?" he asked, surprised to hear his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.

She shook her head, her ebony colored hair brushing her shoulders as she did so. He wanted to reach over and touch it.

"No can do tonight." She slid a brochure with a photographic collage on its cover across the table. "This is what we'll be doing tonight. Dress to impress."

Then she leaned over the table until their faces were inches apart.

"You missed a spot," she said, catching a bit of mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth with the very tip of her tongue.

She leaned back, gave him a lazy smile, then picked up the paper bag and empty drink cartons. She dropped them in the wastebasket as she left the conference room, whistling.

~~~~~~~

Relena tried to resist the urge to look at the clock every thirty seconds. She'd been stuck with Dorothy long enough to feel downright creeped out. The girl had an almost manic gleam in her eye as she explained the future of Romefeller Industries, her grandfather's second attempt at building an empire, amid a scattering of seemingly random thoughts.

Relena was sure that the girl would have no compunction about using any means at her disposal to make the dream a reality. Seduction, manipulation, falsified evidence, whatever it took.

"You seem troubled, Miss Relena." That voice sent chills down her spine. For some reason Dorothy insisted on calling her that, but the expression on her face made it seem as thought Dorothy were insulting her instead of addressing her with respect.

Dorothy had spent the past hour talking. Most of what she said seemed to have no bearing on anything else, but Relena suspected she was being toyed with in some sort of elaborate cat and mouse game. What did all Dorothy's haphazard bits of conversation have in common?

She had a little bit to say about almost everything, making them seem like nothing more than conversational ice breakers. Dorothy touched on things like veterinary medicine. Frat parties. The Return of Martin Guerre. The Department of Justice. H.W. Baldwin. Tinkerbell. Some things she recognized, others she didn't, but somehow she knew Dorothy was basking in her confusion. The blonde woman seemed to be putting forth a challenge, all the while knowing that Relena had no idea how to meet it.

Dorothy, she decided, would have made an ideal religious zealot or cult leader. She possessed a voice that could freeze lava, and yet at the same time, it was disturbingly erotic. Relena could see the woman wrapping men around her fingers, getting them to impart whatever she desired. Secrets, wealth, power.

She was like a black widow.

She had a very bad feeling about the condescending smirk on Dorothy's face. Milliardo's keeping things close to the vest had to stop. He was leaving her to the wolves in his efforts to protect her.

She wished she'd worn a sweater.

~~~~~~

Duo's hand trembled slightly as he reached for the doorknob to his penthouse suite, and he frowned. He decided he needed to cut back on his caffeine intake. Or gotten something to eat before he left work. Or at least eaten breakfast.

Wufei's moment of near panic, however brief, had given him food for thought. His partner may have had some incredibly earth-moving sex last night, but it seemed that there might still be some unresolved tension between him and Meiran.

This was exactly why he and Hilde hadn't worked out. She'd expected more than he'd been willing or able to give. He liked the companionship, loved the sex, but the rest of it was nothing more than one big headache.

He realized he was wasting time rehashing the same things he'd beaten to death on the drive from the office to the hotel, and he opened the door.

tbc