Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Straw Man ( Chapter 26 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 26/?

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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.

Archived at:

http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw/Mookie/gwmookie.htm

an d

www.mediaminer.org (under pen name MookieNH)

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

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Chapter 26 - Straw Man

"Heero," she greeted. "You look...different."

Heero touched his hair briefly before sitting at the table across from Relena. He'd remembered the contact lenses, but forgotten the hairpiece. He'd been too intent on doing the necessary research before their meeting, and had been anxiously downloading the information with one eye on the door, just in case Duo came back early after all. He set a large leather wallet on the table next to the silverware.

"It suits you," she said, saving him from having to come up with an excuse for his sudden change in appearance. He was wearing the pants she'd last seen him in and one of Duo's dress shirts, a collarless cinder gray shirt that still smelled faintly of the man, although that last bit she was unaware of.

"Shall we order first?" she said, gesturing to the menu in front of him.

He gave a curt nod in reply.

Once their orders were placed and their waiter gave them a few minutes alone, Relena took a sip of water. She set her glass down and leaned forward on her elbows. Heero was mildly surprised at the gesture, having expected her to do nothing that didn't conform to Miss Manners' Guide to Dining Etiquette.

She laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them, then met his gaze.

"I must say, I was surprised to hear from you last night."

He nodded again. He had been rather surprised himself when he'd taken advantage of Duo's nap to make the call, but he felt he had to do something after what he'd seen in the paperwork Duo was in possession of.

"You didn't give me much information," she said. "Other than you thought it would be...disastrous, I believe you said, if my brother were to consider a merger with Romefeller. How did you know he was considering that?"

"I didn't," he said. "I assumed it was a likely possibility, all things considered."

"I see." She lifted her chin from her hands and took another sip of water, waiting until their salads had been placed in front of them before continuing.

"You said you wanted some time to investigate a few things, which is why you could not meet with me yesterday."

That had been just as true as the main reason he couldn't meet with her - that he was already committed to attending the art showing with Duo.

"And you had mentioned some mysterious comments that were said to you yesterday," he replied.

Oh, please, her mind begged, please tell me you know what the hell Dorothy was talking about.

"Yes."

~~~~~

The woman with light brown hair pulled her safety glasses off and slipped them into the pocket of her lab coat, then walked to the office she shared with her partner.

She was almost ecstatic to see a fax had arrived from Saint Rose Dominican Hospital on their secure line. She paged through the report and frowned. Something was missing. A big something.

It was not like Iria to be so careless.

She checked the time. Iria might be at lunch, considering the time difference. She'd call back in an hour to find out what had happened.

~~~~~

"I assume you've heard of Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft?"

"Of course."

"They are in a class of drugs known as selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors. A common side effect is sexual dysfunction."

Relena tried to keep her face neutral, but she had certainly not expected to be discussing the sex lives of depressed persons when she'd suggested this luncheon. His expression was severe, so she decided that he was going somewhere with this.

He pulled a palm pilot from the leather wallet and glanced down at it periodically as he explained the function of serotonin, a neurotransmitter, and a study that had been done on an unlikely side effect, one of 'disinhibited libido.'

Furthermore, he expressed concerns that the pharmaceuticals that Romefeller were set to mass-produce might be just a cover.

He stared at the screen in his hands for several seconds before continuing.

"Methylenedioxymethamphetamine," he said, "used to be employed as an aid to psychotherapy. In 1985, it was listed as a Schedule I drug, which includes opiates like heroin and hallucinogens such as LSD." His voice held a note of excitement. "The effects of MDMA in humans include feelings of increased emotional closeness, of empathy...toward others." He noted the slightly glazed look on her face and smiled softly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You'd recognize methylenedioxymethamphetamine by its street name. Ecstasy. It, too, is considered a Schedule I drug, which are, by and large, those with a high potential for abuse and no medical usefulness. The risks of prescribing it outweighed any perceived benefit toward psychotherapy."

He took a bite of his lunch. As he chewed, Relena noticed a faraway look in his eyes. She admired his thoroughness. He'd obviously been very busy since she'd spoken to him yesterday.

"How good is your vocabulary?" he asked suddenly, breaking into her reverie.

She started, then smiled. "Pretty good, I'd say."

"Are you any good at etymology?"

"I'd like to think so."

His smile got almost imperceptibly wider. "Entheogen."

She mulled over the components of the word, then frowned. "Creating an inner god?"

He nodded encouragingly. "'Entheogenic' is replacing the word 'psychedelic' for that particular class of drugs." He sipped his water and then rested his arm on the table, looking at her intently.

"Disinhibited libido," he repeated his words from earlier. "Increased empathy. Rave or party drugs." His entire body seemed poised for flight as he leaned forward. "Disguised as antidepressants."

~~~~~

Janet was a whirlwind of activity, and Nadia finally got tired of seeing her tear through the office.

"Would you sit DOWN?"

"I can't," the blonde said, pausing in her pacing just long enough to open a plastic bound report, flip through a few pages, and toss it on the table before resuming her trek. "I think better on my feet."

Nadia sighed. "Can you spare five minutes? I need a cigarette."

Janet was about to remind her intern that she didn't smoke, but decided it wouldn't kill her to go outside to the 'butt hut' just this once.

They walked to a glass enclosed area resembling a bus stop set about a hundred yards from one of the entrances. The redhead lit up her cigarette just outside the shelter, then slid her lighter into the tiny pocket at her waist. She inhaled deeply and blew it out, away from Janet, then smirked slightly.

"You don't know what you're missing."

Janet wanted to retort that if by that, she was referring to reduced lung capacity, she knew quite well and wouldn't miss it one iota, but then Nadia's eyes flicked over to a group of men and women huddled together, talking.

Not talking. Gossiping.

Her eyes lit up, and Nadia smiled again before taking another drag from her cigarette.

~~~~~

The phone in her office rang, and the woman in the white lab coat glanced at the display screen. A 702 area code.

Iria.

She hit the speaker button, in case her partner showed up during the conversation. "Po."

"Sally!" Iria's breathless voice came over the speakers. "I was hoping I caught you before you started to think I'd lost my touch."

Sally grimaced slightly, as she had suspected something along those lines. "I was meaning to call you," she said.

"I know," Iria sighed. "I wouldn't blame you. My father is ready to risk our entire family fortune, and my brother is out there somewhere, falling prey to who knows what..."

"Iria," Sally interrupted gently. "I know that you have a lot of things going on right now, but haven't you always told me that Quatre had a good head on his shoulders?"

"Yes, but-"

"And haven't you also said how proud you were that he stood up for what he believed in, even though he knew it was unpopular?"

"Yes..."

Sally smiled. "And the reason he ran away from home is because he would not pretend to be something he wasn't?"

Iria laughed, albeit reluctantly. "Yes, yes, yes. Quatre is a strong individual. You're right. I can't see him getting sucked into the world of illicit drug use. Not on purpose."

The reason for their conversation.

"Tell me, Iria."

The doctor sighed deeply. "The information that's missing...that's not a mistake. I didn't just forget to include it because I'm letting my personal concerns interfere with my profession. I didn't include it because..." she trailed off.

"Yes?"

"As far as I can tell, the drug is undetectable using currently known testing methods."

~~~~~

"You seem to know an awful lot about this, Heero," she said.

He shrugged. "I saw something that didn't look right, so I did a little investigation. Then I called you."

She looked at him appraisingly.

"Can you tell me what Dorothy meant by all her jibber jabber?"

He leaned back slightly. "I can try."

He held up the fingers of one hand and ticked them off one by one.

"She mentioned Tinkerbell. My best guess, fairy dust. Cocaine."

Relena nodded.

"Veterinary medicine. It's a stretch, perhaps, but I'm thinking she meant ketamine. Special K. Cat tranquilizers."

She leaned forward, excited that some of Dorothy's cryptic comments just might have meant something after all.

"You also said she mentioned H.W. Baldwin." She nodded again. "If you do a search for that name, you come up with a quote..." He glanced at the screen and used a stylus to do something. She assumed he was searching for information. "Here it is. 'There are many false issues, straw men, and red herrings.' She was either toying with you, or warning you."

Maybe both, Relena thought.

"And Martin Guerre?"

"Ever read that book?" he asked. She shook her head. "I'm inclined to believe it ties in with the straw man concept, which, in turn ties in perfectly with that quote you gave me."

"'I bend down on my knees in the sunlit morning and kiss your wing, grey and white, gleaming in the sun,'" she quoted softly.

He nodded approvingly. "You have a good memory."

Relena blushed slightly.

"It's from a poem, as you might have guessed by now. Poem to a Dead Pigeon, by Jack Micheline."

He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward.

"I think she was telling you that Peacecraft is going to be used as a scapegoat."

~~~~~

"Wufei!"

Duo and Wufei looked up as Janet practically skidded past Duo's office door. She grabbed the doorframe and used it to propel herself inside.

"I found out something that might be of interest. It's unconfirmed," she added hesitantly.

Wufei smiled at her encouragingly. "That's all right. We're rather desperate at the moment."

"I heard a few people at break time," she said. "Apparently there are a lot of friends in the business world." Her tone of voice implied she was using the word 'friend' to mean quite the opposite.

"Yes," Wufei prodded.

"I don't know if it's true or not, but it seems that there is a team of lawyers from Zodiac scheduled to attend a meeting at Romefeller this afternoon. Rumor has it that Milliardo Peacecraft will be in attendance."

~~~~~

Relena's head was reeling. She'd thought that knowing what Dorothy was hinting at would clear her head, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Was Dorothy ally or foe?

She trusted her brother, but she sure as hell didn't trust the smirking blonde.

She didn't know whom to believe anymore. She looked at Heero, and her eyes hardened slightly.

"How do I know that you aren't toying with me?"

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"That is, how do I know that Duo Maxwell hasn't sent you here in order to distract me?"

"Duo doesn't know I'm here," he said under his breath, looking uncomfortable.

She leaned forward, trying to peer into his eyes, but he was looking down at the palm pilot in his hands, his bangs covering his forehead.

She reached out and brushed them aside, and he looked up to meet her gaze.

"I've seen what happens to people who have had drugs slipped into their drinks," he said tightly. "At raves, at frat parties. They do things they'll regret, things that go against their better judgement."

His brown eyes turned an odd color, one she couldn't quite describe.

"I don't want you to get sucked into that. I think your company deserves better than being led to slaughter like a proverbial lamb."

She put both arms on the table and touched one of Heero's hands. He released the electronic device and she pulled his hand into both of hers, wrapping her fingers around it tightly.

"She must have been very special to you."

He looked poleaxed, and she felt inordinately pleased that she'd surprised him.

"Who?"

"You said I reminded you of someone you once knew," she said. "You must have wanted to protect her from the seamier side of life."

"Yes," he choked out.

His fingers were lax in her hand. She drew their hands to her mouth and kissed the back of his knuckles lightly. He flexed his hand to loosen her grip and then interlaced their fingers, tightening his own hand around hers in a gentle squeeze.

"Well, well, well," a voice behind Heero said. "What do we have here? You seem to have made some rather interesting friends, Relena."

Relena's head jerked up and she nearly gasped.

"Milliardo!"

tbc

~~~~~

OK. Did anyone figure out that Relena was meeting Heero before reading this chapter?

Entheogen, (noun): A drug or other substance that engenders a deeply spiritual experience. Roughly derived from three parts: En = Within, Inner; Theo = Divine, God; and Gen = Becoming, Creating. Can also considered to mean "becoming divine within."

Dorothy's cryptic comments, explained at last!

A few people told me that they'd actually looked up Lorelei Lee after Chapter 4, so I wondered if anyone had tried looking for H. W. Baldwin or tried a search for Dorothy's little quote from the poem. Anyone pick up on the fact that it's the only place I used the spelling "grey" instead of "gray"? Nah, I didn't think so. I miss enough typos that you don't have to look for meaning in them!

If you do a search for Dorothy's quote with the word spelled as "gray" you will obtain different results, but using Yahoo, you can find the entire poem as the first search result just using that blurb as your search criteria.

So what does that poem have to do with anything? Well, a pigeon refers to a scapegoat.

A straw man, as quoted by H.W. Baldwin, also known as a "man of straw," is a front. To quote Merriam Webster, it is: " a person usually without means or position who is vested with some nominal or fictitious post or responsibility as a cover in proceedings of doubtful legality or to shield the real author of an action."

Heero is right. If you search for H. W. Baldwin, again, using Yahoo, the quote is found in search result number 22.

Red herrings - anyone not know what those are? You should by now. I use them all the time! Again, I call upon my friends at Merriam Webster dot com!

Red herring (noun): [so called from the traditional practice of dragging a red herring across a trail to destroy the scent] : a diversion intended to distract attention from the real issue.

If you haven't read the book "The Return of Martin Guerre" I will try to summarize briefly, and you can use your own imagination as to what Dorothy (or I!) meant by that.

A man named Martin Guerre leaves his wife, with whom he had less than an ideal marriage, and their child, and goes off to war.

He's presumed dead. Years later he resurfaces, a much kinder, gentler Martin. The marriage blossoms in a way that it never had before.

Surprise! The real Martin Guerre later shows up, and the first gentleman, the one who everyone was drawn to, was nothing more than an imposter named Arnaud. He was tried and found guilty of deceit, and sentenced to hanging. He convinced the village that the wife, Bertrande, was innocent in all of this, having truly believed that he was Martin. Lucky her, she got to live with the real Martin Guerre after Arnaud was put to death.

Make what you will of all of that, because all I can tell you at this point is that it is very symbolic on a few levels. By the way, I recently discovered that the story was somewhat retold in the movie Sommersby, which stars, interestingly enough, Richard Gere.