Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Duo Maxwell, Gun for Hire ❯ Rats in the Basement ( Chapter 5 )

 

 

 

The next day passed with little of nothing to do, besides sleep. Buy hey, who am I to complain. Lazy days are a rare thing to me. Plus my sleep schedule has been non-existent since arriving here.

 

That evening after everyone was awake and all made the appropriate wardrobe changes, we headed back to Elysium.

 

This time we took the back entrance with Trowa in the lead. He was the one that arranged this entire thing anyway. He should know where we were going.

 

He led us down to the basement. You know, now that I'm down here and can actually look around, it's actually pretty neat down here. The floor plans don't do it justice.

 

Half of it was walled off to form a sort of Vampire clinic for Sally to patch people up. According to Q-ball, she doesn't take sides and doesn't ask questions. There was a small area walled off for the club's storage. Another area looked like a safe and a keypad on it. I'm betting that's the armory.

 

Then there were the tunnel entrances. One wall was nothing but arches with a foot or two in between them. I don't know where they led to but from the looks of it, it wasn't very inviting.

 

Trowa stopped near one of the tunnels on the far right and stood there waiting. That meant the rest of us were also sitting here in a dark, cold, dank basement waiting. Did I mention I hate the combination of dark, cold, and dank? It reminds me too much of a crypt. Not a pleasant thought.

 

We didn't have to wait long before the sound of footsteps echoed through the tunnel. Out of it appeared five old men, all of them wearing some sort of lab coat. And they were … weird.

 

Okay, check my logic here. The Nos are as ugly as sin and can hide it with one of their powers and make themselves appear like anything they want. Right? Then why for the love of God did these five crackpots decide to look like old men with prosthetics? Okay, so it's only two that have the fake parts and the other three look relatively normal. Well as normal as a bald guy, a squat guy with a thin villain mustache, and a guy with a really pointy nose, a mushroom cut and a scar over his eye can be. The two with the fake parts were just odd. One wore what looked like goggles permanently attached to his face and had a robotic like arm and the other had a fake nose.

 

These have got to be the worst Nosferatu I have seen yet.

 

“Glad to see you brought them Trowa. We were beginning to wonder if you would show up.”

 

So the guy with the mushroom cut sounds like a weasel. You know, one of those high squeaky type voices. Okay, so it wasn't that high, but it still sounded weasel-ish to me.

 

“I don't see why you would doubt me. I always keep my promises.”

 

I'm more than happy to let Trowa talk for us. It looks like the others don't mind either. Wufei and Heero both looked at ease. Well, as at ease as a Brujah carrying a sword and a Gangrel with a gun could be. Quatre just watched. Somehow I just knew he was ready to do the tentacle rape attack again if we needed it. As for me, well, I'm sure Deathscythe and my trusty browning are good enough. I hope anyway.

 

“Of course, of course. Business with you is always entertaining.”

 

I nearly jumped when the guy with the goggle eyes spoke. “Before we get started, perhaps we should make sure everyone here understands our price. It wouldn't do for us to give you the information you requested and then not get paid properly for it.”

 

I glanced at Trowa. Something about this made me edgy. Tro-man said they wanted information on me. That should be straightforward right? They ask questions, I answer. Right?

 

Trowa was silent as usual. He just gave them a slight incline of his head, not taking his eyes off the five kindred in front of us.

 

“All we ask is for Mr. Maxwell to answer a few questions and to donate a small vial of his blood. That's all.”

 

Okay so far only the pencil mustache one sounded pleasant. Hold on, vial of blood? What for? What would they need that for? Screw that, I know a few kindred that would probably love to get a hold of my blood. There's no telling what they could do with that. No way. Not going to happen.

 

“No way. Not a chance. Forget it.” Oops. I said that out loud, didn't I?

 

Trowa glanced at me. I couldn't help it. I winced. I so wasn't helping. Talk about opening my mouth and shoving my foot down my throat. That so didn't help.

 

Goggle man and mushroom cut frowned as the other ones looked impassive. “Then we can't give you the information you want.”

 

“I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement that Duo will be willing to pay?”

 

Thank you Quatre. My hero the diplomat.

 

 

“No. Those are the terms that Mr. Barton agreed upon when we negotiated this meeting. We will not accept anything less.”

 

Shit. Okay, Trowa probably meant well, but still. I don't want to give up my blood. No way in hell.

 

Trowa glanced at Quatre. Quatre was the one that sighed and turned to me. “Duo, we need to get answers from them. Unfortunately, they are the only Nosferatu in this city so our options are limited. Please cooperate.”

 

As sweet as Quatre is, I wasn't about to agree for anything.

 

“Maxwell, you're being a child. Suck it up and give them a bit of your blood. You're lucky they didn't ask for something more troublesome.”

 

I turned to Fei and glared at him, arms crossed over my chest. Okay, so I probably looked the part of a child with my braid over my shoulder. So sue me. I know what could happen of my blood fell in the wrong hands. Namely a Tremere's or Giovanni's. Not pleasant thoughts at all. I don't need a kindred version of a mage or an undead wanna be necromancer trying something they shouldn't be doing. I wasn't about to risk it.

 

“Duo. Please, you're making this harder than it should be.”

 

My glare at Wufei faded as I turned to Heero. I sighed. Yeah, he did have a point. “Yeah, well, I know what can happen if it falls into the wrong hands. I don't want that to happen.”

 

Heero moved closer to me and reached out and gently grabbed my braid and tugged on it. “Duo, I'm sure the Nos wont sell it to the highest bidder. Isn't that right, J?”

 

“For once the outlander is right. We want it for our own research purposes, nothing more. The Giovanni in this area ignore us and the Tremere sit in their chantry with their thumbs up their ass all day.”

 

All right, so my self-righteous anger and worry just deflated like a balloon. Well, more like popped. If they were sure that it wouldn't get used by one of those clans, then fine, what choice do I have?

 

I grumbled softly. “Fine. Whatever.”

 

A smirk appeared on this J persons face as he motioned for the bald silent one to move. He gave me a reassuring smile and gently grabbed my arm and pulled up my sleeve past my elbow. I shut my eyes and looked away as he started to draw the blood. I've always hated needles. It's so discomforting to feel them under your skin when someone's poking and prodding you.

 

Few minutes later, he was done. Thank you God. I rubbed my arm as I pulled my sleeve down. There was even a little snoopy band aide on the spot he drew blood. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were mocking me.

 

I moved away from them and hid behind Heero. Me childish? No comment.

 

“Our end of the bargain. Now it's time for yours.”

 

The mushroom cut dude nodded. “The information you requested is all in here. I trust that it will be put into good use.”

 

The man with the fake nose produced a thick manila folder and handed it over to Trowa.

 

“Now, how about our questions.”

 

I didn't like the grin on all five of their faces when that goggle guy said that.

 

 

XXXX

 

 

“Whoa. I didn't realize she was that old.”

 

After the mini interrogation section, we hightailed it upstairs to Elysium. Milliardo was kind enough to let us borrow an empty office so we could go through the folder.

 

I sprawled myself out on an old fashioned love seat with my feet in Heero's lap and my head and braid hanging off the armrest on the other end. Quatre was sitting on the left back corner of the desk, reading over Trowa's shoulder. Tro-man was sitting at the desk. Poor Fei looked really awkward standing there on the other side of Trowa and Quatre. Yea there was definitely a love triangle there. I wonder if they realized it yet.

 

Trowa was reading things from the folder out loud. I had to admit, the little vial of blood and a few personal questions was well worth it. He managed to get us information of Victoria, Johann, and the Bishop who was supposed to be coming to town.

 

“Apparently so. Their records show that she was born 1423, embraced 1444. They don't know who her sire was. However, they do note that from what they can tell, her embrace wasn't entirely intentional. It's also noted that the Nos started their file on her around the time of her embrace. Something about a conspiracy at the time.”

 

I blinked. “Huh. Well… someone check me here, when was the Camarilla formed?”

 

“Officially 1493.”

 

I turned my head to look at Wufei. Okay, I expected either Trowa or Quatre to answer not Wufei.

 

Snort. “Maxwell, don't judge a book by its cover. I was a scholar at one point.”

 

I guess my face showed my surprise. I shrugged. “Sorry Wu-man. It's just a slight shocker you know.”

 

Another snort. “ The name is Wufei, Maxwell.”

 

I stuck my tongue out at him. “And my name's Duo Wu-bear.”

 

That earned me a growl and an annoyed look. “Maxwell, last warning. Next time it's your braid that will suffer.”

 

I pouted. Okay, stopping now. I love my braid too much to sacrifice it just yet. Wait until I have a chance to hide. “So anyway. She predates the Cam.”

 

“So it would seem.”

 

I blew at my bangs. “Then why is she in it? Don't you think she woulda went Sabbat when it formed? I mean they formed around the same time, didn't they?”

 

“The Sabbat was formed in response to the Camarilla by the Lasombra and Tzimisce that did not agree with it.”

 

There goes another history fact by our beloved sword wielder. How much does he know? I mean you've got to either be around for a really long time to know this shit or know the right people. I knew he was around 267 years old. So he must know the right people. That's got to be it.

 

“Wufei, how do you know that?”

 

Was that a suspicious or curious question? I couldn't tell with Quatre right now. All I could see was his eyes were trained on Wufei.

 

Wufei to his credit blushed. “I knew an Anarch Brujah that claimed to be at the Convention of Thorns.”

 

That seemed to be a good enough answer for Quatre who smiled at the blushing vamp. “Ah, one of the few scholar Brujah left?”

 

Wufei easily countered with his own two cents. “We are all scholars, it's just some of the modern neonates have lost their way.”

 

Quatre inclined his head. “Of course.”

 

Okay, if I didn't know any better, I'd say those two were doing a weird sort of flirting over Tro's head. Trowa seemed to think so to because he was looked from one to the other with an arched eyebrow and I swear he had a surprised look on his face. I could have cheered.

 

I glanced over at Heero who seemed to have an amused look on his face. I guess he came to the same conclusion I did. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one seeing this.

 

“Back on topic, who is this Bishop everyone keeps on talking about?”

 

“It says that this particular Bishop is from Detroit. He goes by the name Bishop Darcy”

 

I snickered. Please tell me this was a woman and not a guy.

 

“Duo, he's no laughing matter. It says here he's a 7th generation Lasombra.” There was a pause from our own Lasombra. “He must have diablerized his way up.”

 

I sighed. Ruin all my fun. “So he has no problem eating other kindred. Big deal. How bad can he be?”

 

That earned me an irritated look from both Quatre and Wufei.

 

“Duo, that means he is an opportunist like the rest of my clan. If we get into a fight with him, He won't hold back. I can guarantee he will try and kill us when the moment presents itself.”

 

“Winner is right Maxwell. From what I understand, becoming a Bishop is no easy matter.”

 

I grumbled as I leaned forward and pulled my legs in to sit Indian style. “Alright, Alright, I get the idea. Bishop equals bad. Gotcha.”

 

“Hn. Baka.”

 

I stuck my tongue out at Heero in retaliation. The way he said that sounded almost, fond.

 

Before Trowa could move on to the next file, there was a knock at the door before Noin popped her head into the room. “Sorry to bug you guys, but Duo you're needed downstairs. There's someone making a scene and well, you are Keeper of Elysium.”

 

I nodded as I unfolded my legs and stood up. I was out that door a few moments later with the guys right behind me.

 

 

XXXX

 

The scene that greeted us was that of chaos. Unsurprisingly, there was a Malkavian in the center of it.

 

There was an over turned table and a few chairs scattered about. A black haired woman that I didn't know was trying to talk to someone behind the bar and whenever she got close enough to it, a glass or bottle went flying at her head.

 

I eyed the mess warily and made my way hesitantly over to the pleading woman “Hey, ma'am? What's going on here?”

 

The girl turned to me with a slight look of relief in her blue eyes. “It's Relena, something upset her.”

 

I frowned a bit. Yeah, her aura felt like insanity, but it was a more subdued variety. If it weren't for Deathscythe insisting she was a Malkavian, I would have just though she was another clan with mental issues. It happens.

 

“Okay… and who's Relena?”

 

Next thing I know she's grabbing my arm and forcing me to duck with her. There was the sound of something flying over our head and a crash a second later. I glanced behind to see a broken bottle of rum shattered on the floor. Why must it always be the rum?

 

“That was Relena.”

 

I winced. The girl must have a good arm. Or be really upset. Who can tell with one of her clan?

 

“Ah... That looks like it could've been painful.” Go me. I state the obvious.

 

“You think?” she gave me an annoyed look. “All I know was she was talking to Molly and then things escalated from there. Relena started screaming and Molly started wailing like a little child. Her ghouls managed to drag her away before Relena started to get violent.”

 

Huh. That was another tidbit of information to add to the mystery that was Molly. One of these days I'll have to solve that mystery. But for now, lets deal with this.

 

“How do you usually calm her down?”

 

I nearly jumped when I heard Heero's voice. When the hell did he get here? Wait, what? Usually calm her down? Has this happened before?

 

“Usually? I dominate her. But as you can see, I can't get close enough.”

 

I looked between the two of them. “Okay, hold on, this has happen before?”

 

Heero nodded. “Hilde and Relena came to this city nearly six months ago. In that time, Relena has had nearly 20 episodes similar to this one.”

 

That was a lot of tantrums.

 

Hilde gave Heero an annoyed look. “She's normally not like this. I've known Rel for years and before coming here, she was harmless, just a little unhinged. Then we get here and she starts doing this every time she runs into Molly Beckett. I'm telling you there's something wrong with that woman.”

 

“Hn.”

 

I'm guessing this was an old argument. I sighed. “Can we discuss this later? We have a potentially dangerous, alcohol wielding woman on the other side of that bar.”

 

The moment that left my mouth the room went black. A hand went to my chest as I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was like someone was piling rocks on my chest while I was drowning.

 

I felt a hand grab my braid and gently move over to me. The next thing I know, there are lips crushing against mine and giving me mouth to mouth.

 

As soon as the blackness descended, it lifted. It took a moment for me to focus my eyes to see who was attempting to help me breathe. I was surprised to find it was Heero basically kissing me.

 

He quickly broke the kiss and looked away. My guess is he was embarrassed. Okay, so it wasn't a guess, it was more of a fact. I couldn't blame him. A goofy grin was forming on my face. I couldn't help it. I enjoyed that.

 

After our little awkward moment, all attention was drawn to the bar where there was a black… something. I guess you could say it was a dome or something. Soft screams were coming from it.

 

Hilde dashed for it and started pounding on the now confirmed solid shadowy mass. “Relena!”

 

I glanced around to see who might be doing it. Who ever it was, was powerful.

 

It didn't take me long to spot Victoria and Johann. I'm guessing they had a hand in this.

 

Victoria was watching with a look of amusement. Johann was staring intently at the shadowy mass. We found our culprits.

 

I tensed as Victoria started to move towards the mass with Johann in tow. She was there in moments. A shove to get Hilde out of the way and the shadows started to compress and recede a bit till only Relena's head and shoulder were showing. Before the distraught Malkavian could scream Victoria had her hand over the girls mouth and swiped it down. What was left behind was flawless smooth skin. She had removed the girl's lips.

 

Hilde was screaming and trying to punch the Tzimisce woman. That didn't work. In fact, I'd say that wasn't a very smart move. Victoria pushed Hilde off her and reached her hands out for the girl's throat.

 

A black tentacle appeared out of nowhere and latched on to Victoria's hand and yanked it away from Hilde.

 

My eyes followed the tentacle back to Quatre. He was using the shadows from the over turned table to hold the woman fiend.

 

“I'm sure there's another way of settling this besides resorting to flesh crafting them quiet.”

 

If there's any one that can defuse this situation, it's Quatre. I hope anyway.

 

“Perhaps, but this is more entertaining and faster.” To my surprise a tentacle that looked more solid that Q's shot towards him from her very own shadow. It latched onto his arm near the shoulder and started to tighten before sliding down. To my horror, it was removing the skin and muscle with it, leaving nothing but bone, tendons and ligaments in its wake.

 

The horror of what was happening broke Quatre's concentration. His tentacle disappeared.

 

Victoria smirked as she pulled her tentacle away. It returned to her, depositing a mass of skin and meat into her waiting hands. She lost interest in Hilde and Relena who were both stunned by the horror of what she had done. Hell I was stunned. I knew Tzimisce were sadistic and cruel, but this was just, wrong.

 

I felt someone clutch my braid. I didn't even have to turn to look to know it was Heero. I could feel his disgust for her radiating off of him.

 

A sound of a katana being unsheathed and the sound of a safety clicking off echoed through the room. It looks like our Brujah warriors were pissed.

 

“I give you to the count of three to fix him.”

 

Click. “One.”

 

Victoria seemed to find this funny as she started to mold the lump of flesh in her hands. “Really? Your weapons don't scare me.”

 

There was the sound of a grip tightening on a handle. “Then perhaps the thought of what we will do to you will.”

 

“Two.”

 

I watched in morbid fascination as Quatre stood there, cradling his bone arm as Trowa and Wufei slowly advanced on who was arguably one of the most dangerous Kindred in this city.

 

Victoria just watched them. She didn't make a move to try and defend her self or get away. She just stood there molding the flesh into what looked like a grotesque mockery of a rag doll. Hilde was frozen crouched beside her while Relena was struggling and giving muffled shouts.

 

“Three.”

 

Gunshot. Sound of a sword cutting through the air. The sound of laughter and blood splashing on the floor. The sound of flesh hitting the floor.

 

Just as they hit three Trowa fired and Wufei slashed at her. She surprised them by turning into a pillar of blood and splashing down on to the floor. The blood then crawled across the floor as if it were alive. It stopped next to Johann who hadn't moved through this who ordeal and reformed into Victoria who didn't look any worse for wear.

 

Wufei's sword had bounced off the mass of shadows. Relena lucked out. Trowa's bullet had barely missed her ear.

 

Well, now they had Quatre's flesh back but now what?

 

 

XXXX

 

 

Several hours and negotiating with Victoria later, Quatre had his arm back.

 

Well, really it was Dorothy negotiating with her clan elder. It was after the third failed attempt of getting Victoria to be agreeable that we begged for her help.

 

So now we owe Dorothy. Why do I feel like we made a deal with the devil?

 

Well at least she's a minor devil compared to everything else we have yet to deal with. She also managed to get Relena her mouth back. That one she did herself. Apparently remaking an entire arm was out of her league. That doesn't surprise me. Deathscythe had already told me she was roughly 100 years old. Strong, yeah, but still learning her clan's powers.

 

The moment we got Q-ball fixed, we left. Back to my apartment we go.

 

By the time we got back, it was nearing dawn. The curtains were already closed and the blankets were still strewn about my living room. Quat. Tro, and Wu made a beeline for the couch and settled in. I was surprised to see Trowa with his back against the arm of the couch and Quatre cuddled up to his chest. I was even more surprised to see Wufei curled up against Quatre. They were a mess of limbs, touching Q and reassuring themselves that he was fine. Moments to dawn and they were buried under a pile of wool blankets.

 

One tired Heero dragged me up to my bedroom. He threw the covers open and crawled in, beckoning me to follow.

 

Hell, why not? I was exhausted from all of this myself. I crawled in and curled up to him as he pulled the blankets over our heads. I felt his arms slip around me and one of his hands wrapped itself up in my braid.

 

I felt him die with the sunrise just as I slipped off into dreamland.

 

Hopefully tomorrow night will be a quiet night.

 

 

 

 

XXXXX

 

 

Glossary Time!

 

 

Convention of Thorns: was an agreement between leaders of the Camarilla, the Anarchs and the Assamite clan made on October 23, 1493. Its name comes from the location of the meeting: the Abbey of the Sacred Crown near the small village of Thorns outside Silchester in England. It marked the end of open conflict between the three groups, and more specifically an end to the first Anarch Revolt

 

Anarchs: a sect of vampires that exists both within and on the fringes of Camarilla society. Its members are interested in tearing down the social order upheld by the Camarilla, believing it to unfairly defend the interest and status of a select number of older Cainites at the expense of the greater majority.

 

Diablerie: the act of diablerie, also called the Amaranth, involves one vampire draining another vampire of blood and then devouring their soul. Most consider it a heinous act, akin to cannibalism.

 

Neonate: a freshly Embraced vampire.

 

Tremere: Warlocks,Wizards,MagesUpsurs. One of the youngest vampire clans, having just come into existence during the dark ages. In the little time since then they have made incredible inroads within vampiric society and are arguably the most powerful clan in the modern nights. This is due in no small part to their strict heirarchy, secretive nature, and mastery of Thaumaturgy, all of which elicit suspicion, fear, and respect from other Cainites. The Warlocks stand as a pillar of the Camarilla and are one its main defenders, despite the fact that they exist almost as a subsect. Some even go so far as to consider themselves the evolution of vampirism, citing their extreme versatility of blood magic and lack of a true clan curse.