Disclaimer:I don't own them and I don't make any money off of them.
Warnings: Male/male sex, graphic, language, violence
“I need this by yesterday Barton.” Duo put the bag with the new
evidence on the forensics expert’s desk.
Deep in the bowels of Precinct headquarters, the red brick walls seemed to leak
damp and cold. The high tech equipment, metal tables, and reflective instruments
seemed transported from some future time and placed into offices better suited
to bootlegger’s hideouts, gambling halls, and other illegal 1920’s
activities. The man sitting behind the desk, wearing a black turtle neck and
red skinny jeans and calmly eating a sandwich wrapped in a plastic baggy, seemed
equally our place. Slim and tall, with short brown hair that hung down in one
long bang to hide one of his green eyes, he looked better suited to poetry slams
and artist colonies.
Trowa Barton picked up a metal pick and gave the evidence bag a poke and then
moved it around to study it at all angles as he continued to eat his sandwich.
He stopped poking and looked up at Heero with interest. “Is this your
new partner?”
“We don’t have time for chit-chat,” Duo grumbled. “I
need this looked at ASAP.”
“On the contrary,” Trowa replied, dead-pan. “I have exactly
fifteen minutes. I’m on break.” He ignored Duo’s anger, took
a bite of his sandwich and took his time chewing and swallowing. “This
is a little dry and I forgot my drink. Could you get me a tea from the machine
down the hall?”
“No!” Duo growled.
“I might need more time for my break then,” Trowa pointed out. “Eating
this sandwich dry is going to be hard.”
Duo was about to launch into an epic tirade, but Heero quietly left. There was
the sound of a soda machine dropping a can into the chute and then Heero returned
with a cold can of tea. He placed it on Barton’s desk. Barton smiled at
him.
“Thanks, Detective?”
“Heero Yuy.”
“Thanks, Detective Yuy.”
Barton opened the can and took a long drink. He made an appreciative noise.
“That’s better.”
“My evidence?” Duo snapped. “Now?”
Barton looked annoyed. “You need to socialize more, Maxwell.”
“Did you finish that report, Trowa?” Mayor Quatre Winner breezed
into the room as if he owned it. A bright blonde with blue eyes and a rather
angelic face, he was dressed in an expensive three piece, blue silk suit, and
looked ready for a power lunch with world leaders. His beautiful smile was all
for Trowa.
Trowa smiled back and Duo felt definite vibes between the two.
Trowa gave Duo a pointed look. “As you can see, I do have other work,
Maxwell. You can’t just walk in and expect to get your evidence placed
at the head of the line.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Here’s your report.” Trowa fished in a drawer and then drew
out a neat dossier with a blue color and handed it to the man. Duo noted that
the title on the first page. Homeless Deaths in December Due to Exposure.
Mayor Winner took the booklet with a bright smile. “Thank you. This will
help push through the homeless shelter project.”
“You didn’t have an aide to pick that up?” Duo wondered.
“Some things I take care of personally.” Winner was smiling at Barton
and Barton was smiling back in a way that convinced Duo they were a definite
couple.
“I’m glad it’s not because you like to hang out in morgues,
Mayor Winner,” Duo said acidly. Duo prodded his evidence with a stiff
finger. “Now that’s out of the way, you can work on my case.”
Barton checked his watch. “I still have six minutes of break time.”
His green eye sparkled at Quatre as he added shyly, “Unless the mayor
would like me to take an early lunch?”
“Lunch?” Duo exploded.
“Permission granted,” Winner replied. “There’s a little
deli on Martin st….”
Barton stood up and stripped off his lab coat. He straightened his turtle neck
and nodded at Winner. “Let’s try it.”
“That’s fraternizing!” Duo snarled, his fists clenched angrily
as he blocked Barton’s way. “I know there is a statute against it.”
“No, you don’t,” Barton said as he gave Duo a stiff fingered
push out of his way and joined Quatre at the door. As they passed through it,
he was saying, “Don’t mind him. He’s crazy. You look so handsome
today, Quatre.” He suddenly leaned back in the door and told Duo, “Put
the evidence in the proper bin and make sure it’s labeled. I’ll
get to it right after lunch.”
He was gone again and Duo was left fuming.
The kitten made a small sound. Duo took it out of his pocket and placed it on
his shoulder. It dug in claws and settled there, but it continued to mew pathetically.
Heero picked up Barton’s generic white coffee cup, took it to a stainless
steel sink and emptied the cold contents. He filled it with water and brought
it back to the kitten. After raising it to the kitten’s level and tipping
it, the kitten was able to get a drink. It lapped at it eagerly.
“You need to call someone to pick up the kitten as evidence,” Heero
said.
“And miss the fun of watching it use Wufie’s paperwork as a litter
box?” Duo replied absently, still looking angrily after Barton. “Why
am I the only one who cares about Carla?”
“You have a sense of urgency that most people don’t share,”
Heero replied.
“Meaning I’m obsessed with my cases?”
“Barton does have time for lunch. An hour—or even a few days—won’t
matter to Carla.”
Duo’s eyes narrowed and he shivered all over as he saw a vision of Carla,
standing in the doorway and shrieking, face torn and bleeding from the vicious
bites of a dog. “Maybe it does.”
Heero lowered the mug and looked at the doorway. “Are you having one of
your episodes?”
The vision disappeared and Duo stuck his hands in his pockets and hunched down
as if to duck under a blow. “Carla needs justice.”
TBC