Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Preventers: When Vampires Attack ❯ Chapter 1

Chang Wufei yawned and typed in a few more coordinates before following up with a long cat-like stretch that popped his back in at least five different places. He rubbed his eyes again and blinked at the glowing screen. His gaze inevitably slipped to the clock in the corner of the monitor. 12:27 am. And still a good twenty more pages to catalogue and record. Not for the first - or last - time, he muttered an almost inaudible curse on Sally Po for sticking him in here. Of course, he wouldn't forget who had volunteered him for this job: his fellow Gundam veterans. They had argued that he hadn't been putting in the same office hours that they had. Wufei had promptly pointed out that he was better suited in the field, but Sally seemed to be in a let's-torture-Wufei-until-he-bleeds-ink mood. He also suspected that Lady Une had something to do with this. Bitch.

In any case, that left him entering data into the Preventers' information network; transferring illegible handwritten script to neat and orderly electronic files. Cross-referencing, correcting outdated information, correcting clerical errors; in the course of a day, he'd done it all and more. And he had at least two more hours to go.

The office door behind him slid shut with a hydraulic sigh. He brightened slightly. That would be Amy with some diversion. Or Une with a fresh load of paperwork - or perhaps a poisoned dagger. He turned, checking to make sure that he wasn't in any immediate mortal peril. What he saw numbed him to the core.

"Don't look so happy to see me, Wufei," Amy scolded grimly. She held up a huge, steaming mug. "I brought some of that weird green tea for you."

Wufei blinked. Then he blinked again. Finally, he rediscovered the ability of motion and slowly looked her over. He started at the slim black high heels, then meandered up long, tanned legs, giving due note to their gentle contour. About mid-thigh, he encountered something which could have been considered an alien presence on her body - a short blue skirt. Once his mind managed to assimilate this, he moved up to her brisk white blouse and blue vest, then long brown hair hastily thrown back into a ponytail.

"What?" She wrinkled her nose and made a rather unbecoming - albeit funny - face. "Une insisted I wear a business suit if I'm going to stay here. I guess she didn't like the Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Hn." She shrugged and turned her attention to the mug in her hands.

He swiveled his seat around to face her as she approached him. Instead of handing him the mug, she straddled his legs and leaned over to place it behind him on the computer desk. Of course, that conveniently positioned her breast to brush his cheek. Unabashed, Amy settled herself on his lap and hugged his slim thighs with her legs.

"Damned skirt," she grumbled softly. "I wore this for you, you know. I should have just flipped the bitch off and left."

He chuckled and trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "You really should have. I would've loved to see her face. . . . I'd have been finished in another two hours or so anyways."

Amy leaned forward to brush the tip of his cute Asian nose with a soft kiss. "You `would have'? You plan on taking longer now, do you?"

Wufei grinned wolfishly and pulled her closer. The trim skirt - which truly was the work of the devil - threatened to tear as her legs opened to curl around his waist. Strong but gentle hands moved to push the skirt up around her hips before he pulled her firmly against him. Amy slipped out of the inane business vest and casually draped her arms over his shoulders as his lips met hers in a fiery kiss.

His hands ran along her soft curves, gliding over the white satin blouse. In a moment, his lips left hers and traveled down the smooth length of her neck. She closed her eyes and sensually slid her hands across his back.

"Mmmmm. . . . Wu? We probably shouldn't. . . ." Amy's irresolute protest was broken off as he stood and pushed her backwards until her thighs brushed the second desk.

"That's why we lock the door." Wufei grinned crookedly and reached over to press the lock button on the control panel. It hissed loudly before complying. When he turned back to face her, she had already hopped up onto the desk. Hugging his waist with her legs, she pulled him closer and captured his lips in a deep, searching kiss. . .

Censored due to protesting Communists…

And then a voice wafted in from outside. "Chang, I have-" The door clicked apathetically, held in place by the digital lock. "What the-? Chang, you'd better be in there! Chang! Do you hear me? Open up!"

They froze for an instant, Wufei in scintillating mid-lick and Amy in vivacious mid-zip, and whipped their heads around to stare at the office door. A rather unhappy Une began kicking at the closed door.

Amy tried not to laugh, really she did, but somehow she ended up doubled over against Wufei's chest with a rather serious case of the giggles. And, as such things are oft contagious, it wasn't long before Wufei joined her. Before either of them split a side they managed to slip and tuck themselves back into their respective clothing. Amy plopped into the computer seat just as Wufei opened the door. She even managed to look innocent as Une steamed and smoldered her way into the small office. Well, somewhat innocent. . . .

Une`s eye fell on the blue business vest, which was still lying on the floor by the chair. Oops. "You two better not have been playing around. We have a lot of work to do-" Amy could just smell a rant coming on.

"Now wait just a minute, mad onna. I'm done here in two hours. And then…I'm going home for a peaceful night's sleep." The look he shot Amy's way promised so much more.

"Done with your computations, sure. But we have a new assignment just in."

"Stuff it." Wufei appeared to be acquiring some taste for the vernacular. "This is largely volunteer work. The pay isn't good enough for me to sacrifice my entire life to wandering around this dusty office." Bitch.

Une looked like the proverbial cat who had swallowed the canary, followed by an entire pitcher of cream and some catnip to boot. "This assignment is right from the President himself. He's so pleased with the Preventers' work on the Griffin case that he gave me this one personally."

Amy groaned inwardly. As the Preventers' public speaker and representative, Une didn't mind giving herself more credit than was strictly due. And unless bitching became an Olympic event, Une didn't deserve much credit at all. Truth be told, Wufei and herself deserved most of the credit for the recent Griffin operation.

"So what is it this time? Are you giving us the paperwork or the field work?" Wufei cut to the matter at hand, wiping the smug smile from Lady Bitch's face.

"Well, he wanted the same team we had assigned to the Griffin to work on this case. When you read the case files, you'll see the other reason why he requested Sally's `special division.' But this time, you're not going in alone. No, this case is too big."

Wufei narrowed his eyes, but motioned for her to continue.

"You, Clark, and the Maxwells are out in the field for this one. It appears those three have the most experience in this particular area. You're just tagging along because you worked on Griffin, Chang. But don't worry. This case is . . . to die for."

Amy peeked at the preliminary report, skimming quickly. She rolled her eyes disparagingly at the terrible quip. "Actually, Une, vampires are not technically considered `dead.' You could upset some very powerful people with a comment like that."

Une tossed a smile at the pair. "Well, if you kids think you're so smart, get to work. All the information you'll need is right in front of you. You start tomorrow."

Amy went hurtling out of her seat and bounced off a random wall. "What?! Tomorrow?"

Une smirked derogatorily. "Yes. Tomorrow. Ah, look at the time. I still need to run another case folder to the Maxwells before I go home and get a good night's sleep." She yawned daintily. "Well, good luck. Sally Po will see you off tomorrow . . . as I will still be asleep when you leave." Une slipped out the door and disappeared down the hallway.

"Tomorrow?" Amy veritably exploded. "Who-bitch-the hell-asshole-does she-mother-fucking-think she-ass-licking whore-is??"

Wufei barely managed to save the case files before they erupted in a pillar of flame of biblical proportions. "You know I don't like her either, Amy. But this time it isn't really her fault. I'm betting the President himself decided we had nothing better to do with our time than cater to his whims. It's probably some personal errand."

"But she didn't have to take such great joy in handing this to us." Amy indicated the folder and, for a moment, Wufei wasn't sure that he would be able to save it this time. But she just waggled her fingers, requesting to look at it herself.

In a few minutes, the contents of the folder had been strategically pinned to the far office wall and Amy and Wufei were working their way through them. She wasn't sure about Wufei, but Amy felt a bit nauseated halfway through the selection. He seemed to pick up on it - or he had seen as much as he could take as well - because he suggested a brief break. "We'll discuss this later."

They relocated to the break room, where they didn't have to stare at the gruesome wall. Wufei dumped out his lukewarm tea. He didn't have the stomach to drink it anymore, even had it still been hot. For a good fifteen minutes, they contented themselves by staring at the crumb-strewn floor. For once, Amy was silent. Wufei allowed her to slide her hand beneath his and draw strength from him. They'd both need it for the impending discussion, not to mention the actual mission. By 1:30, they'd resigned themselves to the task at hand and approached the office again, neither in any particularly great hurry.

As they reached the door, a dry voice wafted out to greet them. "Nice wallpaper, guys...."

"Stacie?" Amy peeked inside to see the Maxwells waiting for them. Duo was leaning back in the chair casually, his feet propped up on the desk. When he saw them, he smiled lopsidedly and waggled his fingers in greeting. Stacie was stationed beside the wall, where she seemed to be occupying herself with the case files. She had assumed her usual contrapposto stance, arms crossed beneath her voluptuous bosom. Wufei cast a long-suffering glance at the rumpled papers beneath Duo's feet, but nodded civilly. Amy was rather proud of him.

"So . . . Une caught you too?" Stacie motioned at the case photos displayed on the wall. "Duo looked through some of this stuff while I drove. At least . . . I think he did."

Amy arched a surprised eyebrow. "He let you drive his precious Deathscythe Jeep? He doesn't look like he's missing any limbs or vital organs. . . ."

Stacie grinned. "He didn't. He's drunk. And I naturally took control of the situation!"

"I'm not drink!" Duo protested earnestly. His speech did sound somewhat slurred. He pushed himself to his feet, but overcompensated and nearly doubled over the desk. When he regained his balance, he was smiling lopsidedly again. "I can hold my booze."

Wufei stalked over to the Deathscythe pilot and glowered at him, weighing the symptoms judiciously. Finally, he scowled and shook his head. "Drunk, all right. He won't be of much help to anyone for a while, factoring in a nice hangover. Nice going, Maxwell."

Duo swayed slightly, then flumped down in the computer seat again. "I'm a winner." Then he chortled to himself. "No, you're not a Winner, Quatre's a Winner. Silly, silly, silly. . . ."

"At least he's . . . pleasant when he's drunk." Amy shook her head to hide her smile, then moved to stand beside Stacie. "Have you been briefed?"

"Now I have. . . ." Stacie gestured at the wall. "This is some pretty nasty shit."

Amy regarded the wall carefully, as though a demon might pop out and bite her head off. Honestly, she hated it when that happened. . . . "And I'll bet we wouldn't have even caught a whiff of any of this if the President's darling daughter wasn't the most recent victim. I mean, look! Six teens dead and we only hear about this now."

Stacie directed a smoky glare at one of the pictures. "I don't know what self-respecting vampire would do this, anyways. If Mikael and Conan are two ends of the spectrum, there's still no room for a crazed, bloodthirsty murderer anywhere in between."

"But even Mikael has his own sense of honor and I guess there are some morals in there somewhere." Amy paused for an instant to reconsider. "Some, mind you. Anyways, a vampire is, more or less, like the person they were in life. If the person was a mass-murderer in life, that'll be carried over, and probably intensified." She thought back to Conan's explanation, one he had given her years ago.

"Vampires are just like the humans we used to be," he had told her. "Sure we're much more powerful and we have some psionic abilities, but the underlying emotion is there. True, we drink blood to survive and we don't have souls, but our basic identities are still there. Of course, power is the real problem here. Power can corrupt anything. Especially if a person wants to open their heart to corruption, wants more power. . . ." He closed his eyes. When he looked at her again, the haunting golden orbs were intense, focused. "Don't fear vampires, Amy. Just give them the healthy respect they deserve. And if you can't respect them, try to respect their power, eh?"

She had nodded and huggled him then, unsure of how his lecture had answered her question of how he was so morally just and honorable if he was an undead creature which could only survive by drinking human blood. Now, in the present once again, she looped her arm through Wufei's and drew closer to his side. "Of course, they aren't one-hundred percent sure it was a vampire. We could be dealing with just about anything here."

"But look at this, here." Stacie's finger brushed the photo she was looking at. Amy suppressed a shudder. "These wounds look like what we've encountered with vampires before, only more extreme."

Again, Amy forced herself to look at the photos that had been tucked inside the folder. Looking very small - and horrifically red - on a large canopied bed, lay the President's daughter. Laura Asano, her name was. She tried not to think of that - or of how the bedding must once have been pure white. She pitied the photographer and the special case officers who had had to move the body.

The body was ravaged, in every sense of the word. It took no genius to deduce that the girl had been raped brutally before, during, and/or after death. As much as she hated to admit it, none of the times would have surprised Amy. The wounds - almost indistinguishable amidst the sticky sheen of blood and cum - which Stacie had indicated included a ragged chunk out of her inner thigh, a less savage gouge in her underarm, and a relatively normal-looking vampirish nip on her throat. Or the stump of her neck, depending on how you looked at it. Amy just tried not to. But the photo now held her morbid fascination.

"No . . . head?" She let the question hang in the air as a far less squeamish Stacie carefully perused the selection of pictures. In a few seconds, the demoness pointed at a second picture, above and to the right. "Here. Creepy, ne?"

Creepy? This photo went far beyond "creepy." Sitting on the windowsill, giving silent vigil to the bleached-bone moon, was Laura Asano's head. Framed by a perfect crown of golden curls, the face remained frozen in the girl's final emotion, immortalizing the moment of death. Pure joy radiated from the face. Dainty red lips parted in a gleeful smile, revealing a perfect set of ivory teeth. Sparkling blue eyes, only somewhat glazed by death, stared out of the picture at the Preventers. Otherwise, the head was untouched, marked only by the sheen of half-dried sweat in the ghostly moonlight.

"What's she smilin' about?" Wufei turned to see Duo swagger up behind him. "Think she knows she ain't got no body?"

"No, Maxwell, I don't think she does." Wufei shook his head and averted his eyes from the frozen horror. His eyes immediately skimmed over five groups of similar pictures, of similar bodies, all teenage kids. Each body was guarded by a manically grinning - and rather detached - head.

"When did they die?" Amy mused. "I can't believe anyone would smile like that when they're being raped, even torn apart. Unless all these kids were incredibly sadistic. . . ."

"Guess tha's what we're gonna find out." Duo meandered over to the door and plopped down beside it, Indian style. "Let's go work." He swayed forward until his head met the door with a loud "thunk." He ceremoniously proceeded to go to sleep.

"Staaaaaace . . . how could you let him?" Amy plunked her fists on her hips disapprovingly.

The blonde woman sniffed and crossed her arms again. "What, am I his mommy? Hello! Don't think so! We were planning to get drunk as hell and have wild monkey sex on the balcony, loud enough to wake up everyone within five city blocks. Until Une called on us and told us to meet you here, that is. It isn't my fault if I can hold my liquor better than him!" She shrugged.

"Riiiiiiight. . . . Too much info."

"Aw, tell me you wouldn't be doing the same with Wu right now, if you could." Stacie winked and elbowed her friend.

"Well, I, ah. . . ." Amy turned a peculiar shade of red.

Thankfully, Wufei spoke up then. "Am I invisible? Talk about the case, not your sex lives. It's past two and we should either get to sleep or plan."

Amy and Stacie exchanged a decisive glance. "SLEEP!"

The Chinaman nodded his approval. "Just make sure it's a restful sleep and not. . . . Well, you know. Sally Po will contact us in the morning with further instructions."

"G'night."

"Night."

"Night."

"Night. . . ."

"Night."

"Are you sure we have to go to-"

"Good night!"

"Oh. G'night."

"Night."

"Sure."

Stacie grabbed Duo and managed to steer him out of the office, leaving Amy and Wufei grinning and glowering, respectively. They made quick work of the case files, quickly and efficiently packing them away into their folder. The trip to Wufei's apartment was a quick and uneventful one. Both partners were silent, their minds teeming with ghastly images and unanswered questions. Even as they changed into their pj's and climbed into bed, they didn't dare speak their minds, in the hopes that their partner had succeeded in driving the terrible scenes from their mind. Only after half an hour of lying still in each other's arms and staring at the mercilessly blank ceiling, did sleep come to them.

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