Title: "The After-Life and Misadventures of Duo Maxwell, First Class Corpse"
Author: Euce. [firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com]
Credits: Gundam Wing and all its creators for so graciously turning a blind eye as I bastardize [in a good way, hopefully] their series like the many GW fanfic authors before me.
Rating: For all the chapters I have completed thus far [five total], it's pretty light. I wouldn't say it exceeds PG-13. Alternative Universe, modern setting- could be now, just then, or tomorrow.
Brief Contents/Warnings Listing: Death, Romance, Police Detectives, Angst, Ghosts, Wufei, Vague Comedy, Coroners, Homosexual Themes, and Bisections.
Summary: This is actually a relatively light AU romance / horror / drama / ghost fic that deals with the after-life, the fragility of human emotion and it's ability to break all known boundaries, and other such things. I want to try to use as much of the cast of GW in this fic as possible. Please review me, critique me heavily. Let me know where I've screwed up, or where I need improvement. Aren't you getting tired of this same darn heading? I think that sums it up.
Doctor Barton's quiet and inobtrusive voice startled the young detective to his senses. Quatre Winner snatched his hand up, betraying inner guilt in the way he rubbed his hands on the thighs of his slacks rapidly and jerkily.
"Oh, Tro- Erk, I mean, Doctor Barton," he lowered his voice to a whisper, his whole body unconsciously leaning toward the Doctor, "It's awfully good to see you after all this mess today..." Doctor Barton's replying nod was short and clinical, but the tiny smile he gave the blonde Detective in return was somehow dazzling. It was clear in the Detective's shining, Caribbean-blue eyes that he was dazzled by it, as well. "Trowa.."
Doctor Barton pushed his bangs up under a clean hairnet and put on fresh scrubs and a clean apron. He turned to Quatre with a solemn face though the following wink ruined it's dramatic effect. Trowa was like that. His serious mein could make a rock sober up but every so often he did something to completely contradict that impression of him. Well, he did for Quatre anyway. He still took Quatre's breath away, after 2 steady years together, romantically. "If my assistant sees you getting weak-kneed over me she'll be jealous and will give me hell for a full week. So let me kiss you hello..." He leaned forward and gave Quatre a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Assure you that I love you..." He pressed his hand to Quatre's sternum, right over his heart, and kissed him fully and deeply on the lips for several lingering moments before pulling away, saying, "I love you more than life... Yet unfortunately, I have to get back to work." His assistant picked that moment to walk back in in fresh scrubs and clean gloves of her own. She waited by the sink as the doctor washed his hands and held out his gloves for him as he slipped his hands into them. Yes, one can have romantic interludes in a morgue, however, all tenderness had gone from Trowa as he began his examination of the corpse. Quatre interjected at the appropriate moments, answering questions about estimated time of death, and giving additional details about the crime scene.
Two hours later, Doctor Barton had finished his examination. John Doe lay on the examination table with a brand new, neatly stitched Y-bisection in his torso and yet there were still no clues about how the boy died. There was no water in his lungs so he could no longer be assumed drowned. It would go to forensic's hands now. Doe's prints were taken. A mold of his teeth were made. His fingernails were scraped for trace evidence. A blood sample was taken. A hair sample extracted. Detective Winner had stayed during the entire ordeal though he had been unwilling to watch Doctor Barton make the first incision and he covered his ears when they cracked Doe's ribs. Regardless of the strange attachment he felt for the mysterious victim, he always hated that initial wet, snapping sound and creaky groaning of pulling bones and covered his ears every time. He was in better spirits after the Doctor had sewn Poor John Doe back up and slid him gently into the freezer. The detective had the thought, 'Tucking him into bed,' before he could stop it. He shook his head physically at his mind's silliness. He needed to get away from work for awhile, he thought, though he had just had his first assignment in his new position. He hoped he didn't end up getting sentimental about all the corpses he brought in. He watched the Doctor as he cleaned up and handed the reins over to the night-shift coroner, Doctor Une, and bid his assistant goodnight. Both the detective and the doctor had reports to write but they had a pressing date with one another to attend to first.
Yes, I know this is the *Duo and Heero* ML not the Quatre and Trowa ML... I humbly request a bit of patience. Sorry. I think this chapter ends kind of badly, here. I hope this is still holding your attention.