[Fic: GW] The Night Club 8/?
Title: The Night Club (8/?)
Fandom: GW
Rating: PG
Characters: Duo/Heero, Dekim, Dorothy, Rachid, Quatre
Notes: For links to previous chapters ----> 7.
***
The morning sunlight was a harsh and unrelenting so Duo rolled over, pulling the covers over his head with a muffled groan.
“You’re awake, then?” Heero asked, sounding far too alert for what go forsaken hour Duo thought it must be.
“Barely,” Duo muttered, “I’d like to be asleep again actually.” But with that said, Duo thought, this wasn’t his bed and Heero probably wanted him to leave. “I’ll get up but.”
“Don’t,” Heero said, “Um, I mean, you don’t have to unless you want to. Good thing about being self employed is that you don’t have to get to work until you want to.”
“What do you do, anyway? I know you work for Quatre Winner in some form, but yeah,” Duo shrugged, “For all I know you could be his accountant.”
“I’m a private detective, I used to be in the force and before that the army but I like being independent,” Heero murmured.
“Makes sense,” Duo muttered, rolling over and facing Heero. “So, willing to put off work for just a little bit longer?”
Heero grinned.
***
Dekim smiled slowly at Dorothy. She resisted the urge to shoot him in the face. The fact that she only smiled back cordially was worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize, she thought. And, she considered, it would seriously hamper her next promotion if she shot someone in her office at the police station.
“I trust that the raid went well?” He murmured, leaning closer than any sane person would like. Dorothy may not have been deemed sane for her entire life but she had limits.
“Well enough,” she said, “No substances were found and Quatre’s little attack dog was on the scene before I could do anything about that.”
“Heero Yuy, pain in the ass whoever carries that name,” Dekim cursed. “Does Winner expect anything?” His asked, eyes narrowing.
“Not a thing,” Dorothy said, tapping a pencil against the edge of her desk.
“I heard you had dinner with him,” Dekim murmured, voice laden with suspicion. “Going back to her former fiancee?”
“Of course not. The pathetic man tried to beg for my forgiveness. Over five courses. I said I would consider and then I left him with the bill,” Dorothy turned on Dekim. “Don’t think I’m not committed, not after all that I’ve done.”
“You’re a beautiful young lady, Dorothy, do try to be a little bit more charming,” Dekim said as he left her office.
The pencil snapped in her hand as soon as the door was shut. Mouth twisting, Dorothy took a deep breath and squashed down on the loathing inside of her.
“For the greater good,” she muttered, “The greater good.”
***
Rachid gently knocked on Quatre’s office door and came in quietly as soon as he heard Quatre’s harried, “Come in!”
Quatre’s chair was turned around, so that he faced the large windows. He was on the phone, muttering quickly into the speaker. Finally, with great care he placed the phone on the receiver.
“Dekim’s trying to get rid of my liquor licence now,” Quatre muttered. “I managed to stop him but the man is like a bloodhound.” He spun his chair around and smiled weakly at Rachid.
“Yes,” Rachid said, making a note that Quatre needed time off to relax. “I have something to tell you.”
“Let’s see,” Quatre said, “It must be big. No one… hasn’t died, have they?”
“No, nothing like that,” Rachid said, pausing as he tried to find the words. “Trowa is back.”
Quatre gaped, falling back into his chair with a soft thud.
Fandom: GW
Rating: PG
Characters: Duo/Heero, Dekim, Dorothy, Rachid, Quatre
Notes: For links to previous chapters ----> 7.
***
The morning sunlight was a harsh and unrelenting so Duo rolled over, pulling the covers over his head with a muffled groan.
“You’re awake, then?” Heero asked, sounding far too alert for what go forsaken hour Duo thought it must be.
“Barely,” Duo muttered, “I’d like to be asleep again actually.” But with that said, Duo thought, this wasn’t his bed and Heero probably wanted him to leave. “I’ll get up but.”
“Don’t,” Heero said, “Um, I mean, you don’t have to unless you want to. Good thing about being self employed is that you don’t have to get to work until you want to.”
“What do you do, anyway? I know you work for Quatre Winner in some form, but yeah,” Duo shrugged, “For all I know you could be his accountant.”
“I’m a private detective, I used to be in the force and before that the army but I like being independent,” Heero murmured.
“Makes sense,” Duo muttered, rolling over and facing Heero. “So, willing to put off work for just a little bit longer?”
Heero grinned.
***
Dekim smiled slowly at Dorothy. She resisted the urge to shoot him in the face. The fact that she only smiled back cordially was worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize, she thought. And, she considered, it would seriously hamper her next promotion if she shot someone in her office at the police station.
“I trust that the raid went well?” He murmured, leaning closer than any sane person would like. Dorothy may not have been deemed sane for her entire life but she had limits.
“Well enough,” she said, “No substances were found and Quatre’s little attack dog was on the scene before I could do anything about that.”
“Heero Yuy, pain in the ass whoever carries that name,” Dekim cursed. “Does Winner expect anything?” His asked, eyes narrowing.
“Not a thing,” Dorothy said, tapping a pencil against the edge of her desk.
“I heard you had dinner with him,” Dekim murmured, voice laden with suspicion. “Going back to her former fiancee?”
“Of course not. The pathetic man tried to beg for my forgiveness. Over five courses. I said I would consider and then I left him with the bill,” Dorothy turned on Dekim. “Don’t think I’m not committed, not after all that I’ve done.”
“You’re a beautiful young lady, Dorothy, do try to be a little bit more charming,” Dekim said as he left her office.
The pencil snapped in her hand as soon as the door was shut. Mouth twisting, Dorothy took a deep breath and squashed down on the loathing inside of her.
“For the greater good,” she muttered, “The greater good.”
***
Rachid gently knocked on Quatre’s office door and came in quietly as soon as he heard Quatre’s harried, “Come in!”
Quatre’s chair was turned around, so that he faced the large windows. He was on the phone, muttering quickly into the speaker. Finally, with great care he placed the phone on the receiver.
“Dekim’s trying to get rid of my liquor licence now,” Quatre muttered. “I managed to stop him but the man is like a bloodhound.” He spun his chair around and smiled weakly at Rachid.
“Yes,” Rachid said, making a note that Quatre needed time off to relax. “I have something to tell you.”
“Let’s see,” Quatre said, “It must be big. No one… hasn’t died, have they?”
“No, nothing like that,” Rachid said, pausing as he tried to find the words. “Trowa is back.”
Quatre gaped, falling back into his chair with a soft thud.