Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Caustic Life ❯ FaR tooDeeP ( Chapter 3 )

Continuing:

Caustic Life

By H4T3.D3PT

 

Marvel at my posting speed…I SAID MARVEL!!!!! Woo it's Friday, best day of the week every week ^__^

Ah so well, yes…still working on ze finishing of zese sings…but za will get done…woot…so uhhhh…

Yeah thanks to all those who took the time to Review ^__^

 

Nita-SaNa NsI: DAMN YOU FOR FORGETTING! Ahahah naw I kid…I forget many things but hey thanks fer reading!

 

CeWo: Aw you're the shiat ^_~…thanks fer all the support…you are one of the ones I write for, who can actually read the craziness of that comes from my tangented mind..wahaha…apparently tangented isn't a word…it should be…and yeah Duo's my fav too…he's just so damn fun to write..though I cannot tell you what may happen…but I assure you, you'll like it ehehehe (and I'm still in the mode to finish everything when I finish this…hopefully I'll stay there ha)

 

Nita-SaMa:…yes darkness is good…feel the Goth wave…aahah I don't know what the hell I'm talking bout, but be prepared for more darkness…just incase. Eheh.

 

KaLiCo: ehehehe…yeah…I got a lot of messed up views on the world…obviously, but they make for real interesting character interactions, which are one of my favorite things to write…not that I so much have control. sociopathic muses are great heh…Thanks fer all the kudos, makes me feel good that people are actually reading and enjoying it…I can't really tell ya what's gonna happen to Duo cause I really ain't sure myself…ehe

 

 

Ch. 3 FaR too DeeP

 

I drove like a normal guy on a crotch rocket deciding to obey the rules of the road, though my natural instinct didn't care for the idea. I made my way from the north east side of the city out to the northwest suburbs. I hated that even on Saturday there was still fuckin rush-hour traffic. I swear from two to four am was the only fuckin time Chicago didn't have a goddamn rush hour.

 

I didn't get to my destination until well after eight, knowing if there was no traffic it would have taking me 45 minutes instead of two and a half hours. I parked the bike leaving the helmet and accessories with it. I straitened my shirt making sure there were no stains on it and pulled the ponytail out braiding my hair quickly as I approached the building with the black leather over the shoulder bag. I waved to the guard as I approached the door. I heard the buzz and pulled it open. I walked to the desk signing in as usual.

 

“Got something the master wants again do ya Mr. Maxwell.” I smiled up at the guard. His dark colored face smiled back at me.

 

“You know the drill Rasid.” He rubbed the goatee that rested on his chin his dark eyes still smiling at me. He'd started calling Quatre the master after my fifth visit there. Solo had introduced me to Quatre years ago, though Solo rarely used him and as Quatre had informed me not at all in the past six years. Solo had only used him for when he needed special equipment. Quatre was in weapon design and manufacturing mostly for the government. He was also known for his taste of fine arts, which made my Duo Maxwell cover even more useful.

 

I'd used guns when I started out, but after three years I grew tired of them and asked Quatre to manufacture something different for me. We went through a lot of different equipment until I'd fell in love with the devices I had now. Only problem was the only way to get refills and change what the needles carried was Quatre. It was a good thing he was high enough up that he could get away with just about anything including making a permanent pass for me. Course we had a great cover. I would come when ever I came across a piece he might be interested in and with art that could be every day. Though I usually only came by once every two weeks or so, depending on the number of hits I had during a week.

 

“Ah yes, and here is your hall pass Mr. Maxwell. Dr. Winner is in…you know where he is.”

 

“Yeah, yeah Rasid fifth floor last door on the left and how many times do have to tell you just call me Duo.”

 

“One more time Mr. Maxwell.” He smirked. I gave him the finger as I went to the elevator by passing the metal detector that most had to go through. Quatre had got me out of that whole mess by saying that he loved silver pieces and every time I came I would set it off. Security believed him more because he didn't have to give them a reason. The whole facility was pretty much his. He was good at what he did and it was noticed.

 

I took the memorized path stepping into the lab and locking the door behind me. Quatre was at the large table with beakers of odd colored liquids around him. He didn't even notice I'd come in. I smiled at his crouched form. He was studying one of the beakers getting level with it as not to disturb it. He pulled the safety goggles off looking disappointed at the bright blue liquid that almost matched his wide blue eyes studying the beaker looking for something.

 

He stood up putting his hands on his hips tapping his foot as he looked up to the ceiling. I was sure he was calculating where he'd gone wrong. I stealthy moved to the back of the room and came up behind him. His head dropped to look between the line of beakers in front of him. I started down at the tousled blonde mess of hair. He was about head shorter than me and even though the coat hid his form. I knew the lithe body that resided beneath it.

 

I watched his body straighten and the hand rise in victory. I was sure he'd figured the problem. He went for the beakers and my arms came around his waist picking him up from the floor.

 

He cried out in terror momentarily flailing against my grip until I started to cackle behind him. I had to put him down before I dropped him weakened from the laughter. He turned quickly smacking me repeatedly and yelling at me for being an uncivilized heathen and a terror. It just made me laugh harder.

 

“I hate you.” Quatre pouted to me crossing his arms over his chest glaring at me.

 

“You don't mean that.” I got out before the laughter took me again. He screamed like a 13 year-old chick in a haunted house, it was hilarious I couldn't help it.

 

“Yes I do.” He turned his back to me. He had some similarities with Zechs in the fact that he was used to the whole world kissing his ass and doing whatever he said. He also hated to be laughed at, but I don't know anyone who wouldn't have laughed at that.

 

I smirked as I came up behind him wrapping my arms around his waist pulling him against me. I nuzzled my head into his neck giving a light kiss before I spoke. “You could never hate me.” I purred against the soft flesh.

 

Quatre let out a low sigh. My hand slid up the front of him undoing the buttons of the white coat as my tongue moved along his neck. Quatre didn't fight me at all. I didn't expect him to; I knew he wanted it more than I did. My hand undid the top button of the coat and the other hand was already sliding up the shirt he wore underneath. It slid up the smooth stomach finding the slight divot of his chest and moving to grasp one of his hard nipples between the fingers.

 

The hand that had undone the coat was now taking care of the fastenings of Quatre's pants. Quatre's breath was coming fast and he was already making small groaning noises. The pants came open and my hand slid into the waste band of them and the underwear attempting to push it down. Quatre's hand stopped mine.

 

“Duo, I thought you were…” I cut off his words forcing my lips against his, knowing he was going to bring up the fact I hadn't made an advance at him in three years. In my mind Zechs and I were over. He could do what he wanted and so could I. I was going to make sure to take advantage of it. For three years I'd fucked the same thing day in and out. I was finally free and I would fuck anything that came my way.

 

I pulled from Quatre's lips pushing him against the lab table. I heard the beakers move from the force, but knew how Quatre liked it. I'd fucked Quatre well over a hundred times. Shit every time I saw him from 16 to 20, I ended up with my dick buried in his ass. He'd toyed with me the first three years I'd went to see him after Solo and I split. He dropped hints in crude comments, sneaking in pecks on the cheeks at first, then lips, his hands would `accidentally' bump or grope parts of me, until I'd lost it. I just snapped, sick of his shit, and took him on the floor with no prep work or nothing, just dived right in. From then on it was a regular occurrence, well until Zechs fucked everything up, which he'd gotten quite good at.

 

I pushed the thoughts from my mind as I pushed the coat to the side, yanking Quatre's pants down exposing the pale white ass. I smirked undoing my pants. I was already hard and I still was lubed from Trowa and I's little excursion. My dick was all ready to stick in. My hand fastened to Quatre's waist as the other positioned my cock. I heard Quatre's breath catch in anticipation.

 

I didn't let him down as I forced myself in deep hearing him cry out. I sighed loving the feel on the inside of him. I leaned my head down to kiss the back of his neck calming myself before I started on him knowing if I moved too soon I may pull a Trowa and get off before I had any fun.

 

I put my other hand on his waist pulling myself mostly out of him before I shoved my girth back in and started the pounding rhythm. The beakers shook on the lab table with each pump. I could hear his breathless moans and the groans of my name leaving his lips. I was getting close. My head fell back as my body moved to it's own beat.

 

Quatre cried out the muscles that sheathed my cock twitching with my movement in and out of him. The low groan left me with the orgasm. I pulled out of Quatre knowing if I left the flaccid member in the moist hole it would come back to life in seconds. If I let that happen I'd waste the day in Quatre's ass and I had a lot of other shit to do.

 

The knock sounded at the door and Quatre was at attention. He quickly pulled up his pants fumbling with the fastenings, while I stood with my manhood hanging out staring at the door.

 

“Quatre are you okay in there? I thought I heard you yell.” I heard the key working on the lock. Quatre pushed me hard, sending my distracted form to the ground. I slid on the clean white disinfected smelling tile into the back wall, between two sets of large cabinets.

 

“Father.” Quatre said moving to the opening door. I sat rubbing the back of my head where it had hit the wall to stop me. It didn't help it was almost the exact same place where I'd hit it the other night when Zechs pushed me from the bed. I realized there were way too many similarities between the two, even where they hit me when trying to get me away from them.

 

“Is everything alright Quatre?”

 

“Yes, I've just figured out what I've been doing wrong all this time. The next solution should be what we've been aiming for. It's a perfect mix. All a soldier will have to do is hit one of the enemies and the solution will go strait to his brain causing him to go berserk and kill his entire platoon. It will only last for a couple of hours, but there will be no trace of it and the person affected will have their all of their memory erased afterward.” Quatre explained. I could hear the excitement in his voice at the end. He was quite good at what he did and he enjoyed doing it. He looked innocent and sweet, but was nothing of the sort. I killed well over a thousand people through the years, but Quatre may be in the millions, he wouldn't actually be there or pulling the trigger per say, but some of the shit he came up with could wipe out civilization as a whole if used.

 

“I see. Sorry to bother you. Good job son. I would like to start testing as soon as possible.”

 

“I'll call you when I'm finished.” I heard the other leave. That was the other reason Quatre got away with so much. It was technically his fathers company, but Quatre was the only reason he was still in business. When most kids were going to middle school Quatre had already entered high school and by the time most were entering college, Quatre already had a doctorate in Chemistry and Engineering. He was still five years my senior but looked to be my junior. I didn't care though, as long as he was on my side.

 

He came into my view smiling down at me. “Sorry.” He said pulling his innocent look.

 

“Shit like I'm gonna fall for that look anymore. And you should be sorry you assclown. Fuckin getting real sick of gettin my head whacked.” I grumbled closing up my pants.

 

“Speaking of that, what happened to your face? Last job get a little ugly.”

 

“You could say that.” I grunted, getting up, feeling a little irritated about the mention of the bruise on my cheek again.

 

“I thought you had taken an oath of celibacy?” I heard the laughter in Quatre's voice. I shook my head at him walking past him placing my bag on the lab table.

 

“I need some refills of the paralysis and I want something to knock them unconscious for a bit.” I went straight to business not wanting to talk about my personal life any longer.

 

“Hm, that shouldn't be a problem. Oh I have some new prototypes too.” Quatre went to one of the cupboards pulling out five small boxes. He rushed over to me setting them on the table.

 

“Here's your paralysis.” The box was marked with a P. He pulled open the next box pulling out the small needle. His thumb ran down the top and he pulled it away just in time, the needle split open like a flower, though it was much deadlier than any flower. The thin tip split into seven small points and opened half way down the needle. It closed after two seconds.

 

“This will stop the needle as it enters the skin. You should aim for the neck. It will be good for severing the jugular, airways, nerves and spinal cord. It will be much more effective then the ones you are using now.” He put the needle back in the box; stacking it on the other one he'd given me. I smiled down at it already picturing how I'd use it.

 

“This one is much like the last.” I glanced between him and the box he held up. “But when you fire these they automatically open. There is a small injection device in each which will be activated once it hits a victim.” He smiled darkly.

 

“So what's in them?”

 

“Oh, whatever took my fancy at the time. Just think of it like a multi-pack full of all your old favorites and some knew mixes I've recently concocted.” The maniacal laugh left his mouth and I was happy as hell the thought to take over the world never occurred to him because I had a feeling he could do it and it would be quite painful for all.

 

“So what's the last box?”

 

“Oh the same thing.”

 

“What about something to knock out my victims?”

 

“Why do you even want something like that? That seems stupid.”

 

“Just get me some.” Quatre's eyes narrowed giving me a distrusting look.

 

“You've used these for seven years and never needed something like that before.”

 

I sighed angrily. “If it's that fuckin complicated for you I'll get it somewhere else.”

 

“Fine, fine.” He held up his hands in defeat before he looked at me slyly, grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me too his lips. “I love it when you give me attitude.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up, I got shit to do.” I grumbled. Quatre pouted out his bottom lip before he went back to the cupboard and pulled out a box stacking it on the others. I glared down at the smaller man.

 

“Just cause you didn't ask for it didn't mean I never made a batch.”

 

“You're such a fuckin pain in my ass. I see why Solo stopped coming to you.” I said shoving the boxes in my bag.

 

“He was just here two weeks ago actually.” Quatre said pompously. I stopped filling my bag at Quatre's words. I didn't move just stared down at the worn leather. I hadn't seen Solo since I was 13. After he took me in it was nothing but training for three years until he thought I was ready to be on my own. He sent my out on my first mission. I remember pulling the trigger and watching my mom's high eyes close for the last time and my dad smile at me before I blew a hole between his eyes. Everything went smoothly. I had no hesitation, no feeling. It ended too quickly though. I had no problems getting back to the house in the northeast suburbs of the city Solo had. I couldn't wait to tell him how well everything went.

 

I never had the chance. He was gone by the time I got there. There was no trace that he'd ever been there. I knew he was, I could still smell the cologne and the stench of death he always carried on himself in the house. It was fading. It'd been hours since he'd been there. He most likely left right after I had and there was no telling how far he could've gotten in a couple hours.

 

“He hasn't contacted you?” Quatre questioned interrupting my memories.

 

“There's no reason.” I glanced at Quatre from the corner of my eye unable to keep the hate from them.

 

Quatre looked away from me focusing his attention on the neon colored liquid in one of the beakers. “He asked about you. I didn't…”

 

I was already opening the door not caring to hear anything Quatre had to say on the subject. I went to the elevator hitting the button. I heard the hurried steps in the hall.

 

“Wait! Duo!” Quatre yelled as I stepped into the elevator. I saw his face in the slit of the closing elevator doors. “He” The elevators were sound proof so I didn't get anything else Quatre had to say, nor did I care.

 

I took the pass off handing it back to Rasid. “Did Master Quatre treat ya a little to ruff?” Rasid gruff voice laughed.

 

“Always does.” The joke didn't come out right. Of course not, I wasn't feeling right. Rasid said noting else able to sense my mood or lack there of. I went out of the large glass building reaching into my bag. I closed my eyes as my fingers brushed the worn piece of paper.

 

My eyes snapped open as I scanned the parking lot. I didn't like the feeling I was having. I went to my bike pulling on all the gear. I revved up the Ducati and sped from the parking lot keeping an eye on my mirrors. I took the scenic route home watching the cars that were behind me. I was almost sure I had a tail and I had a good idea who it was.

 

After three hours of driving I figured I was in the clear. I'd kept tabs on all the cars that'd been behind me and I'd lost them all. I rode my bike back to my house in Highland Park. The house was much more than I needed, but I liked having a four car garage for all my bikes, enough room in the house to practice each of my skills and a gate to keep my privacy. The one thing about living around a bunch of rich people is that they all like their privacy. We all did our own things.

 

The only reason anyone in the neighborhood knew me was because I'd sold them a piece for their collections. I never really understood it. I mean I had a lot of statues and paintings in my house to sell, but I couldn't see spending that much on a canvas with some paint thrown on it or on a piece of chipped cement called art. Course I thought spending that much on having some one killed was reasonable. Guess my opinion was a little biased.

 

I pulled the Ducati in, parking it next to the BMW K1200S. I walked into the next garage, which held the Yamaha YZF-R1 and Suzuki Gsx-R1000. Yeah I had an obsession with crotch rockets. The next garage held the BMW M3, had to have a car for the winter and the final garage was set up for practicing with my guns. I didn't use them anymore, but I kept practicing with them just in case. If anything happened to Quatre I'd have to go back to the guns, though I had a feeling he'd out live me.

 

I walked into the house hearing the soft meow. I crouched down giving the small gray calico cat a scratch on the head. “Did you guard the house like a good kitty Hana?”

 

She looked up to me with her green cat eyes cocking her head, before she rubbed against my hand. So she wasn't a guard dog, but she was a good warning system. She was used to only me being in the house, which was usually the case. Zechs had come over once. I'd given him a key to my place awhile back not thinking of it. When I came home Hana had ran into the garage meowing at me. It was like she was warning me there was someone strange in the house. Plus she was cuter than a guard dog.

 

I picked her up heading into the kitchen. I set her on the counter as I went to the fridge grabbing a bottle of water drinking most of it down. I had a hell of a work out in the last couple days. I gave Hana some food and clean water before I went to my answering machine hitting the play button moving to my laptop.

 

I had 10 messages. The first four were prospective clients for Duo. The next three were someone hanging up right after the beep, I assumed it was Zechs. The next two were telemarketing calls. The last was the one I was waiting for.

 

“1200 block, Michigan Avenue.” The gruff voice slurred from the answering machine. I deleted all the messages and went to checking my e-mail, which was noting but junk. I checked the websites for all the papers in the Chicago and surrounding area looking at the classifieds and op-ed pages. A few classifieds caught my eye, but they weren't Solo. He and his contact went through the paper. There were a few key words they always used, but none of them were there. It bothered me. Solo was here for some reason and I needed to know why. He'd been here for two weeks and I didn't even know.

 

I called the Chicago Reader, Tribune and Sun and placed an ad to be posted immediately on the internet and in the morning paper knowing Solo would look to the papers out of habit. I placed an ad for hire; sure he'd be able to find the meaning in the words.

 

Maxwell Trading.

I need a full time assistant. Must know programs such as Excel, word, ect. Pay for your relocation. You're time is here! Email Duo@maxwelltrading.com

 

I checked the site seeing it was already added. I shut down the laptop, grabbed my bag and headed upstairs to the bedroom. I was beat and I knew it would be awhile until he replied. I fell onto the bed feeling my leg ache. I wanted to go to sleep, but knew I had to take the bandages off. The wound had to be aired out.

 

I figured I should take a shower too after all the extracurricular activity I'd partaken in. I stripped down, undid the braid in my hair, and took off the bandage. The leg was still looking pretty bad. I'd have to wait a couple days before I could take another job. At least I knew where my contact would be. I thought as I stepped in the shower.

 

I'd met Howard where I'd grown up. He was a bum and frequented the area I lived in. I'd run into him a few times when I'd escaped the degenerates my mom had tried to sell me off to. He let me sit with him and would tell me stories about nothing and show me the odd gadgets he'd invented. I'd lost touch with him when Solo took me, but once the two of us split I'd went wandering the city and ran into Howard again.

 

We sat under a viaduct and talked for hours. I don't know why I told him, Solo told me never to tell anyone, but he'd told Quatre, so did it really matter. Howard was just a bum anyway, but a genius bum. He asked me to let him be my contact. I'd laughed at him. I mean Solo went through legitimate contacts and I was going to use a bum. I was against it at the beginning of our conversation, but somehow after hearing him talk about it for hours he coned me into it. It was actually one of the best things I'd ever done. I mean most used newspapers, websites or emails, which all left a trail, but how many people would think to use a bum. He was practically untraceable. I mean he had nothing keeping him in one place. That's why he always left the hundred block and street he'd be on for me to find him to get my next job when I was ready. He'd stay in that area until I came or call with a new place.

 

I told him my alias for the jobs and he slowly started to spread the word. My first jobs were mostly drug dealers and the like. The money wasn't the best, but I stuck with Howard trusting his word that all I had to do was give it a few years and I'd be at the top of the food chain. He was right. The bosses of the thugs that hired me noticed the speed and accuracy I'd taken targets out and soon it was them approaching Howard. Of course, the higher ups in the political fields that had dealings with the gang bosses heard of me through them and started to hire me. Now CEO's and the like were acquiring my services through Howard.

 

It was even better having him as my contact because it wasn't about the money to him. He'd be honest and tell me if he didn't trust the client or had a bad feeling about a job and I trusted his judgment. I tried giving him a cut of the payment, but he never took it. He hated money. I'd asked him once why he helped me do what I did. He told me that anything was better than becoming a junky or an alcoholic like my parents or giving up on life like he had. He didn't care what I did as long as I was happy doing it and I was.

 

I got out of the shower wrapping my hair and toweling dry, careful of the wound. I pulled the towel from my head moving into my room. Hana was curled on my bed making me want to do the same thing. I thought of things I should do and decided fuck it discarding my towels on the floor and went on the bed moving her to the side.

 

I slept deeper than usual knowing Hana would wake me up if there were any disturbance. It was nice. I needed some down time to sleep off some thoughts, let my head get straight.

 

I heard the soft meow. My mind snapped into gear. I didn't move still holding up the façade of sleep. I listened for any sound that wasn't from the house or the cat. She meowed again and I opened my eyes to glare at her knowing it was no emergency. Well, maybe for her.

 

“No more food for you fatty. God, fuckin get me all worried cause yer hungry.” Her ears went back as if she were glaring back at me. I don't care what anyone said; I knew she could understand me. Sometimes I thought she was way to close to human for a cat.

 

I rolled over turning my back to her. She jumped over me and started to bat me in the face with her paw. I growled not ready to get out of bed. She started meowing again.

 

“God damn you Hana! Fine. Fine! I'm fucking up!” I snapped getting out of bed. She weaved through my legs as I walked down to the kitchen strategically placing herself to almost trip me with each step, knowing I was still half asleep.

 

I made it to the kitchen before she caught my foot and sent my face to the floor. “Oh you fuckin heathen!” I yelled to her as she sat in front of my downed form just out of reach. I swear I could see her laughing at me. Sometimes I wondered why I kept her. I'd found her the day after Solo left. She was hiding next to the stairs of the old house we'd lived in trying to stay out of the rain. She wasn't doing a good job and looked horrid. I may seem like an ass to most people, but I didn't really care about people. They could take care of themselves if they wanted. Animals don't have the luxury to panhandle. I ended up taking her in and when I moved out of the place a month later she came with.

 

I pushed myself from the floor giving a chuckle. “Ya got me, but don't think I'll fall for that again.” I threatened filling her bowl, knowing it wouldn't be the last time she'd take me down. I usually ended up like that at least once a month.

 

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was six thirty. I looked out of the sliding door to the back porch seeing the streaks of crimson and orange fire being smothered by the deep violet.

 

I thought of Solo. I remember him telling me my eyes reminded him of that deep violet that always comes to put out the suns flame and usher in the darkness. I looked to the closed laptop. I knew Solo wouldn't have replied yet. I felt the childlike wish to control time take me. I sighed stretching and grabbing some water from the fridge. I supposed I should do my normal work out. I was going to stay away from working my leg for the day. It scabbed over nicely and it was looking half as bad, but I didn't want to press it. I was lucky that I healed quickly, though I didn't know which side of the family that came from.

 

I went to my room suiting up in black cargo pants and the tight black spandex shirt. I dumped the bag putting on the two bracelets, armbands, sheath, belt and knives. I reached for the black mask seeing the darkened paper underneath it. I stared at the worn folded letter. I'd carried it for years. I'd read it so many times back then I'd memorized it. I reached my other hand to it. I didn't even want to look at it, nor could I rid myself of something I'd held on to for so long. I grabbed it putting it into the pillow case and flipping it over. I gabbed the mask, pulling it on and tucking it into the neck of my shirt.

 

I got the boots from the bathroom slipping them on and tying them tight. I walked down to the large room. When I was shown the house, the place still had the dead owners effects in it, the spacious room had held a dinning room table that could comfortable seat 20. Course, I had no use for a dinning room and turned it into my training room.

 

There were metal bars on one side set up like a jungle gym, except instead of padding or wood chips underneath, it was broken glass. There was no room for mistakes in my line of work, not even in practice. It was the same way Solo had trained me. I had the scars on my back to prove it.

 

The other side of the room had dummies for practicing mêlée combat and a full punching bag. In the middle were a set of mats for stretching and the whatnot. I clicked on the CD player in the room hearing the hard beat of Funker Vog kick out of the speakers as I moved to the mats. I sat down stretching a bit before I did a backwards somersault doing a few sets of one-handed pushups with each arm. I rolled over moving to sets of 50 sit-ups and crunches, switching between the two.

 

I finished moving into some break moves, pulling a few posses keeping my legs from the ground. I stopped, moving fluidly as I sprung myself up with my hands landing heavily on the right foot kicking the safety off on the boot. I flipped backwards. My hands hit the ground and I slowed my lower body as my feet came parallel to my head. I hit the trigger in the boot smiling as I watched the back of the dummies head blow off. At least I'd gotten better with my last resort.

 

I moved to the dummy practicing some grappling moves then to the punching bag. I was pleased to notice my leg wasn't bothering me at all. Maybe I could take another job before I thought. I glanced at the jungle gym made of a maze of metal bars and down to the jagged glass beneath it. Maybe it wasn't as good as I thought. I cringed remembering the sting from the glass entering my back. I shook the feeling off going to the kitchen taking off most the gear, grabbing some water and a bite to eat, which was a cup of ramen. I'd pretty much giving up shopping for anything else. I was only home enough to feed and water Hana, so it seemed senseless to keep much food. Plus it was easy, fast to make and cheap. Not that money was a concern, but why not save when possible.

 

It was already midnight. That always seemed to happen when I trained. I'd mean to do it for a few hours and would end up doing it for six to ten. I liked to test my limits and see how much faster or further I could push myself. It was kind of good my leg was hurt otherwise I was sure I would've wasted another four hours.

 

I finished eating and flopped down on the black leather couch flipping on the flat screen. Hana jumped on my lap curling there. I rested my arm on her giving her a light scratch behind the ears as I half watched the infomercial about some amazing food storage system that was a must have in every house.

 

I woke with a yawn. Hana did the same on my stomach before she was off meowing in the kitchen. I fed her like a good pet and grabbed some breakfast, which was a whopping bowl of fruit loops. I don't care what anyone says, it's the best cereal ever.

 

I was stuffing my face with the kiddy treats staring out at the morning sky. I glanced up at the clock above the door to the porch seeing it was about seven thirty. I knew Solo would have gotten the paper and replied by now. I turned to my laptop and almost choked on my delicious fruity cereal seeing it open and the message there. I left the cereal on the island in the kitchen and rushed to the computer. My eyes moved from the screen to scan the room seeing the document was written in word.

 

He'd been in my house when I was sleeping just on the other side of the computer where the living room was. There'd been a wall separating the two rooms, but I'd had it taken down when I moved in. I set up a desk right behind the couch for my laptop since my two favorite rooms were the kitchen and living room. Actually I didn't care so much for the living room, just the comfy ass couch, which was usually my bed.

 

I focused back to the screen knowing he was already gone. I've missed you. I don't know how long I sat there reading the line over and over, knowing there was no hidden message in it, but analyzing ever letter unable to comprehend the meaning.

 

“The fuck?” I sighed falling back into the chair. What the hell was that suppose to mean? He fuckin missed me. I stared at the blackened words on the white screen. Was this some kind of joke? Of all the things I'd thought he'd come back with I wasn't expecting something like that. It pissed me off. He wasn't taking me seriously. He was just toying with me.

 

“Fuck you Solo!” I yelled, standing, brining the laptop above my head and throwing it to the ground with all my aggression. I watched the screen pop off and random keys fly through the air. I glared down at the now useless machine still seeing the words in my mind. It took all my effort not to start stomping on it. I was glad I took off the boots. I turned from the mess pulling the boots on and going to the back room that led to the garage. I opened the closet grabbing the black business trench coat and the set keys from the bowl that sat next to the door full of keys for each vehicle.

 

I slid into the BMW M3 noticing the cell phone in the holder on the dash. I'd forgotten I left it there, course I didn't need it when I was Shinigami. I turned on the car hitting the garage opener. I glanced back at the phone seeing I had 27 voice messages. I turned it off not in the mood to schmooze with clients. I flipped on the stereo letting the harsh dark beat of Terrorfakt blare from the speakers.

 

I pulled from the driveway with no destination in mind. I just wanted to get the fuck out of the house. I needed some air. Traffic was bad as usual, but it didn't bother me. It was Sunday and all the churchgoers and shoppers would be out in droves. Once I passed Irving Park on the Kennedy, traffic started to open up and I did the same with the German engine. I speed down the interstate weaving around the cars, changing four lanes at a time coming close to clipping cars with my recklessness, the music only fueling my anger.

 

I couldn't stop myself. I was feeling reckless. I didn't understand why Solo chose now to come back. His motives were lost on me. There was no reason for him too. I'd have heard if he took a job, but there was nothing and he'd been here two weeks. I didn't like the game he was playing.

 

My mind jumped to Zechs at the thought of games. He was a liability. If Solo knew where I lived then he'd been following me for a few days, maybe even longer. Despite the time he'd know about Zechs. I didn't want to see Zechs, but had to. I didn't know what I was going to tell him. If I told him the truth he'd fly into a panicked rage, probably lock me in a fuckin cage for the rest of my life, and higher guards to protect me. I might have been blowing it out of proportion, but only slightly.

 

Why'd all this have to happen now, I thought to myself before my eyes were brought to the review to see the red and blue flashing there. “Oh for the love of fuck.” I grumbled.

 

My instinct was to run, but Duo Maxwell doesn't run from cops he finds some way out of the ticket, whether it be a bribe or through court. I pulled to the left emergency lane knowing the cop was after me. I reached in the in the glove box pulling out the wallet and proof of insurance. I never needed the wallet unless I was in the Duo Maxwell persona and that was mostly when I drove the car so I figured to keep everything in there that way I wouldn't misplace anything. I pulled the license out and leaned back in my chair.

 

I'd purposely left little room between my car and the guard wall that ran along the freeway making the cop's job a bit more difficult. Both of my personas had too much cockiness neither would let go. Plus I always hated cops. That was expected looking to my childhood. They'd never saved me once. Never arrested my parents. Never came to my cries for help. Even now that I was grown, they still did nothing to help, always hindering me.

 

The cop knocked on my window. I didn't look at him as I rolled it down slightly holding the information I assumed he would ask for to him. I was hoping he'd take it and leave. He didn't.

 

“Do you know how fast you were going Mr…Maxwell?” He growled the last. The voice sounded eerily familiar. I lowered my window more looking out it. I held the smile from my lips looking into that familiar cobalt.

 

“What a coincidence? So we meet again Mr. Yuy or should I say Officer Yuy?” I smirked. I noticed his eyes looking to my left cheek. I hadn't looked in a mirror for a while, but I was sure the bruise from Zechs and I's little spat was still adding some color to the cheek.

 

“You were going 105 in a 55 mile per hour speed zone. Where are you headed in such a rush?” He questioned ignoring my statement and falling back into his uber cop mode.

 

I could have told him the truth, nowhere, but why miss a golden opportunity. “Why, to see a client of course.” I said playfully.

 

Heero's eyes narrowed at my statement. “Stay in your vehicle. I'll be back.” His voice a monotone flatness.

 

“Yes Sir.” I saluted with a laugh. He gave me a glare before he went back to his car. I knew I was going to get a ticket. I may have been able to bribe other cops, but Yuy wasn't going to go for it.

 

I watched traffic begin to slow as it passed trying to see if it was an accident. Others had a look of relief happy it wasn't them getting pulled over and some had laughter glad I'd gotten what I deserved for speeding. I was sure the latter group were the ones I'd cut off or rode their asses miles back.

 

I glanced in my rear view mirror seeing Yuy on the c.b. and Chang staring down at his lap. I was sure they were drawing up my ticket. I caught a glimpse of the black car. My eyes went immediately to the right side mirror to confirm my suspicion. I turned in my seat looking out the back window my breath catching in my throat. My eyes followed the slowly passing car.

 

Keen green stared at me through the passenger side window. The lips pulled in a sly smile. His hand held in the shape of a gun. I watched as he pretended to fire at me, his hand kicking back slightly, his lips forming the word bang. My eyes were too wide as I watched the BMWZ3 pull away from my detained vehicle. I kept my eyes on it for as long as I could.

 

I heard the knock at my window. I didn't move. I'd lost the car, but I had a perfect view of the exit ramp. I already knew the outcome and didn't want to believe it.

 

“No.” I breathed with the weight of the situation falling upon me all at once.

 

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HEY THANKS TA ALL YOU READERS…IT'S YOUR TIME AND SUPPORT THAT KEEPS THE STORIES GOING! (if I was sitting next to you I'd totally be givin ya a high five right now…ehehe)