(fic) Chewing Gum (oneshot)
Chewing Gum
A Gundam Wing fanfiction written by Masamune Reforged
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters and make no money off of this fic.
Rating/Warning: Mature audiences. Descriptions of violence, sexual language, slight cursing.
Characters: Duo, Trowa, minor OCs
Setting/Type: Post-series. Crime. Preventer-fic.
Words: bout 900
For gw_dark 's monthly theme, "Blast from the Future"
-Chewing Gum-
“Jesus, that's some kind of mess! And the smell! Ho~ly~ shit!”
Duo Maxwell whistled and waved a hand over his nose in caricature, not even trying to cover the amused grin splitting his face. The sound of his voice careened off the narrow alleyway walls, drawing stares from more junior Preventer agents that were broken off into nervous glances when they identified the figure with the long braid stepping unceremoniously through the yellow crime scene barrier field. Only two people in the alleyway didn't react to Duo's crude entrance, and one of them was a dead, 30's something woman.
Duo set out towards both, stopping along the way only briefly to harass a few of the Preventers cleaning up the last bits of the scene. “How's that girlfriend, Huck? Ah, still not putting out huh? Hey, Paige! That kid of yours fancy going out to the sports park for a volleybase game one day? What do you mean you dunno? We had a great time last time I talk little Thing-a-mah-Name out!” The friendly chit-chat was blood-freezing threats. Giving Duo Maxwell too much information about your girl was a sure-fire way to aid him ending up balls deep in her before you ever could. Certainly, the last thing any responsible parent desired was their child spending a full afternoon with him. Duo reached the two bodies that hadn't paid him any attention and, his grin falling just slightly, asked, “What've you got, Big T?”
Trowa stood up, still a full head taller than the young man with the whiplash braid, and stared down at Duo humorlessly. He could never understand how Duo could keep up such a light hearted, who-gives-a-fuck attitude in this line of business. Duo claimed to have the most respect for the dead out of anyone, but Trowa willed himself not to silently marvel at his antics every time they were put on a case together. As for Trowa, he didn't have any respect for the dead, personally. He simply sucked at jokes.
“Victim was dragged here,” he pointed to the alleyway entrance, making a line with his finger along the littered alley floor. “Thrown to the ground.” Point. “She tried to run, but the pre-mortem blunt trauma on her crown means he simply smacked her with the gun.” He waited while Duo fished a pack of gum out of his pocket, popping several capsules into his mouth and chewing vigorously. “Then he shot her.” Duo made a mastication-muffled sound that seemed to indicate contemplation. Trowa added, although it was obvious, “He raped her before he brought her here.”
It was simple, and disgustingly typical. Young prostitute, overzealous customer, a conflict over price or tastes. Fill in the blanks. Trowa looked down at the three chunks of concrete that had been capped, lasered, and removed to be worked over by the Preventer’s Analysis Department. It had been done without leaving much of a trace, but the entire thing screamed sloppiness.
“Good work, Tro,” Duo said around a mouthful of gum. “Filed in five.” Duo bent down and stared through the clear, on-site preservation sheet draped over the victim. He frowned and stopped chewing, the silence heavy for a moment. Then he asked, without a breath of a joke, “But how'd you know it was a 'he'?”
Trowa wrinkled his eyebrows. It didn't feel like one of Duo's usual jokes. “She was raped,” Trowa said emptily, but quickly felt something nervous building up from inside his stomach.
Duo snorted a derisive huff of breath and stood up, turning to Trowa and gauging him intently, like he was a slab of meat on some invisible butcher’s scale. “Trowa, we both know that anything's possible in this day and age.” Duo’s stare made Trowa's gut give a funny flip, like it was turning in on itself. Trowa remained quiet, confused, until Duo spoke again. “Never thought red-heads were your type, Tro.”
The realization was there, but Trowa was still human. He couldn't cope with it. He began to yell, “What do you-”
Duo brandished his gun. It was aimed right at him. “Boys in the lab got done with that hair they recovered before ballistics got on sight. Prelim tests on the semen are in too. All matches-Don't...”
Trowa had flinched toward his gun, but Duo had his aimed right at Trowa's heart. Duo would do it. There was no doubt.
Trowa growled, “This is insane.”
“It really is,” Duo said.
“This is fucking insane!” Trowa hissed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw other Agents flitting into the alley. “Last night I was...”
“Drinking. In places all up and down the street nearby,” Duo finished. “Guys we talked to said you were at it pretty hard. I know it was the anniversary of Catherine's death, but...”
“This is insane,” Trowa repeated like a litany to a false god with long, snake-like brown hair and purple eyes. “You know I didn't do it!”
“I know.” Duo's voice was just a whisper. The agents were almost upon him, but Trowa knew there was no way they could catch Duo's words. “But you didn't think I'd forgotten about how you killed my poor Deathscythe, did you?”
Agents Finn and Paige, on the scene at the time, reported that a brief conversation took place before former Agent Barton pulled his gun on Agent Maxwell and had to be restrained.
-end “Chewing Gum”
Notes: I know, fairly standard to do a “Duo goes way the hell overboard to get back at Trowa for blowing up the Deathscythe” fic, but it leant itself to this kind of thing. Felt weird trying to picture either of them in Preventers...
Tried to “futurize” it with stuff like the crime scene barrier and lasered out pieces of evidence. Yellow tape and chalk rings with little, numbered cards in the middle just didn't feel very futuristic to me... Also, volleybase. Volleyball and baseball. In the future, you never know…
''Filed in five' is a variation on 'open and shut'. I don't imagine they'd be using paper in the future, and fully finishing up a homicide case in just five days would indicate it was pretty damn clear-cut. So, yeah.
Frighteningly, the technology that Duo might have employed to frame Trowa may not be hundreds of years down the road. Just yesterday there was an article about “fabricating and multplying blood and saliva samples with implanted DNA”. This could be done from a sample obtained from the person being framed (Duo could get that easily) or simply engineered to match someone who's DNA profile has been in a database (like a military one) without even needing a real sample! It's called whole genome amplification for the first, and the other doesn't have a name yet. But, yeah, I suppose there goes all that 'conclusive DNA testing'...
http://arstechnica.com/science/news/2009/08/dna-samples-used-by-crime-labs-faked-in-research-lab.ars
A Gundam Wing fanfiction written by Masamune Reforged
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters and make no money off of this fic.
Rating/Warning: Mature audiences. Descriptions of violence, sexual language, slight cursing.
Characters: Duo, Trowa, minor OCs
Setting/Type: Post-series. Crime. Preventer-fic.
Words: bout 900
For gw_dark 's monthly theme, "Blast from the Future"
-Chewing Gum-
“Jesus, that's some kind of mess! And the smell! Ho~ly~ shit!”
Duo Maxwell whistled and waved a hand over his nose in caricature, not even trying to cover the amused grin splitting his face. The sound of his voice careened off the narrow alleyway walls, drawing stares from more junior Preventer agents that were broken off into nervous glances when they identified the figure with the long braid stepping unceremoniously through the yellow crime scene barrier field. Only two people in the alleyway didn't react to Duo's crude entrance, and one of them was a dead, 30's something woman.
Duo set out towards both, stopping along the way only briefly to harass a few of the Preventers cleaning up the last bits of the scene. “How's that girlfriend, Huck? Ah, still not putting out huh? Hey, Paige! That kid of yours fancy going out to the sports park for a volleybase game one day? What do you mean you dunno? We had a great time last time I talk little Thing-a-mah-Name out!” The friendly chit-chat was blood-freezing threats. Giving Duo Maxwell too much information about your girl was a sure-fire way to aid him ending up balls deep in her before you ever could. Certainly, the last thing any responsible parent desired was their child spending a full afternoon with him. Duo reached the two bodies that hadn't paid him any attention and, his grin falling just slightly, asked, “What've you got, Big T?”
Trowa stood up, still a full head taller than the young man with the whiplash braid, and stared down at Duo humorlessly. He could never understand how Duo could keep up such a light hearted, who-gives-a-fuck attitude in this line of business. Duo claimed to have the most respect for the dead out of anyone, but Trowa willed himself not to silently marvel at his antics every time they were put on a case together. As for Trowa, he didn't have any respect for the dead, personally. He simply sucked at jokes.
“Victim was dragged here,” he pointed to the alleyway entrance, making a line with his finger along the littered alley floor. “Thrown to the ground.” Point. “She tried to run, but the pre-mortem blunt trauma on her crown means he simply smacked her with the gun.” He waited while Duo fished a pack of gum out of his pocket, popping several capsules into his mouth and chewing vigorously. “Then he shot her.” Duo made a mastication-muffled sound that seemed to indicate contemplation. Trowa added, although it was obvious, “He raped her before he brought her here.”
It was simple, and disgustingly typical. Young prostitute, overzealous customer, a conflict over price or tastes. Fill in the blanks. Trowa looked down at the three chunks of concrete that had been capped, lasered, and removed to be worked over by the Preventer’s Analysis Department. It had been done without leaving much of a trace, but the entire thing screamed sloppiness.
“Good work, Tro,” Duo said around a mouthful of gum. “Filed in five.” Duo bent down and stared through the clear, on-site preservation sheet draped over the victim. He frowned and stopped chewing, the silence heavy for a moment. Then he asked, without a breath of a joke, “But how'd you know it was a 'he'?”
Trowa wrinkled his eyebrows. It didn't feel like one of Duo's usual jokes. “She was raped,” Trowa said emptily, but quickly felt something nervous building up from inside his stomach.
Duo snorted a derisive huff of breath and stood up, turning to Trowa and gauging him intently, like he was a slab of meat on some invisible butcher’s scale. “Trowa, we both know that anything's possible in this day and age.” Duo’s stare made Trowa's gut give a funny flip, like it was turning in on itself. Trowa remained quiet, confused, until Duo spoke again. “Never thought red-heads were your type, Tro.”
The realization was there, but Trowa was still human. He couldn't cope with it. He began to yell, “What do you-”
Duo brandished his gun. It was aimed right at him. “Boys in the lab got done with that hair they recovered before ballistics got on sight. Prelim tests on the semen are in too. All matches-Don't...”
Trowa had flinched toward his gun, but Duo had his aimed right at Trowa's heart. Duo would do it. There was no doubt.
Trowa growled, “This is insane.”
“It really is,” Duo said.
“This is fucking insane!” Trowa hissed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw other Agents flitting into the alley. “Last night I was...”
“Drinking. In places all up and down the street nearby,” Duo finished. “Guys we talked to said you were at it pretty hard. I know it was the anniversary of Catherine's death, but...”
“This is insane,” Trowa repeated like a litany to a false god with long, snake-like brown hair and purple eyes. “You know I didn't do it!”
“I know.” Duo's voice was just a whisper. The agents were almost upon him, but Trowa knew there was no way they could catch Duo's words. “But you didn't think I'd forgotten about how you killed my poor Deathscythe, did you?”
Agents Finn and Paige, on the scene at the time, reported that a brief conversation took place before former Agent Barton pulled his gun on Agent Maxwell and had to be restrained.
-end “Chewing Gum”
Notes: I know, fairly standard to do a “Duo goes way the hell overboard to get back at Trowa for blowing up the Deathscythe” fic, but it leant itself to this kind of thing. Felt weird trying to picture either of them in Preventers...
Tried to “futurize” it with stuff like the crime scene barrier and lasered out pieces of evidence. Yellow tape and chalk rings with little, numbered cards in the middle just didn't feel very futuristic to me... Also, volleybase. Volleyball and baseball. In the future, you never know…
''Filed in five' is a variation on 'open and shut'. I don't imagine they'd be using paper in the future, and fully finishing up a homicide case in just five days would indicate it was pretty damn clear-cut. So, yeah.
Frighteningly, the technology that Duo might have employed to frame Trowa may not be hundreds of years down the road. Just yesterday there was an article about “fabricating and multplying blood and saliva samples with implanted DNA”. This could be done from a sample obtained from the person being framed (Duo could get that easily) or simply engineered to match someone who's DNA profile has been in a database (like a military one) without even needing a real sample! It's called whole genome amplification for the first, and the other doesn't have a name yet. But, yeah, I suppose there goes all that 'conclusive DNA testing'...
http://arstechnica.com/science/news/2009/08/dna-samples-used-by-crime-labs-faked-in-research-lab.ars