Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Trinity
By : Aestas
Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male
Views: 4704 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Gundam Wing or its characters
Chapter List
- 10
- 11
Ugh, sorry for the wait. This story has been really weiging on me. I'm terrified that I'll forget the little details to come, and then end up screwing up finer points of the plot. So things have been progressing really very slowly. And updates to this fic will slow down, perfectionist that I am. That being said, onward!

______________

Quatre and Duo ended up having to stand off to the side, Trent ended up sitting in the one chair Trowa had stored down there while Trowa was pulling up his computer program. A single command had Trent reciting a summarized life history of one, Barnabus Samuel Riggs, a.k.a. ‘Briggs,’ captain of the Merchant class D vessel, Space Drifter. Apparently, Trowa had sent him a report of information needed to take over the role.

As Trent spoke, Trowa found the pieces needed to create the character’s face, a larger, flat prosthetic nose, ears with a longer lobe, thick brow ridges. Briggs was a hulk of a man, with a thick face and a body to match. Trowa walked away and returned with a heavy-looking suit of a chest piece and belly. Finally, Trowa returned with a razor and a bottle.

Trent had completed reciting a history of Briggs and how he came to be captain and continued into the names of his crew members and their subsequent jobs on board. As he was doing this, Trowa proceeded to begin shaving Trent’s head with the razor.

All the while Duo and Quatre watched and listened avidly. It was kinda insane, just a little bit of shading here, a little bit of paint there could completely change the look of someone’s face. To further confuse the senses, Trowa had said he could actually use prosthetic pieces to change the face enough to fool even the most sensitive of facial recognition programs.

Their taller lover constructed the man’s face, instructing Leason on the application and supplies needed to maintain the farce. It seems this particular character was based on a ship, so an elaborate costume with extensive make-up application could be used due to having a steady and relatively safe home base in which to apply the necessary disguise.

Leason, for his part, was intensely concentrated on all instructions, and after all was said and done, Trowa reached over to his cell phone, which had casually been placed next to the computer screen in a manner that Duo and Quatre had barely noticed at the onset of Trent’s conversion. With the ease of long practice, Trowa pulled a clear film from the screen of his phone and handed it to Leason.

“In case you forget, its all recorded.” Trowa’s voice was devoid of any emotion.

“My thanks.” Leason’s was as well.

Trowa nodded, and Duo rolled his eyes. “What are you two, clones? Jeeze!”

Quatre smiled gently. “He does have a point.”

The look on Trowa’s face made both his lovers very wary. “Trent is very good at impersonations, but I’ve stretched my tolerance for sharing to its limit. So don’t get too many ideas, Duo.” He smirked as Trent’s eyes widened impossibly.

Duo’s mouth fell open as Quatre laughed out loud. Duo stammered for a moment before he spoke. “Did he just make a joke? I think he did. Maybe he’s not hopeless after all.”

Trent and Trowa just looked at each other in barely there exasperation.

Leason’s demeanor had changed, loosened just slightly, with Duo’s comments, but they tightened up again as he addressed Trowa. “Do you need help with yours?”

Trowa knew before he looked that he would see hopeful expressions across his lovers’ faces, but he was resolute in his decision not to let this man get anywhere near Duo and Quatre. “No. Its time for you two to leave.”

Understanding colored Trent’s face. “Where’s your restroom, Barton?”

Quatre smiled warmly as Trent excused himself from the basement, leaving the three to their farewells. Duo was a little miffed at the curtness of Trowa’s statement, but feeling those strong arms surround him and Quatre, feeling Trowa’s slightly stubbly cheek brush against his own the passion and desperation in the kiss he planted on each of them, was enough to remind him that no matter how rough Trowa’s exterior was to the rest of the world, that Duo and Quatre were loved with an intensity that was damn near overwhelming.

And that was a good thing.

Trowa walked them both to the front door and told them he would try to contact them as often as he could before kissing them one more time and closing the door.

Glassy blue eyes looked over at Duo. “I don’t care if its your place or mine, but I’m too accustomed to sleeping with another body next to mine to sleep alone.”

Duo smiled weakly. “Me too.”

Trowa stayed with his back leaning against the front door until he heard Duo and Quatre pulling out of the gravel driveway. He knew Trent was standing was in front of him, but he refused to open his eyes just yet. It was almost like if he didn’t see their absence, it wouldn’t press as heavily on him. Trowa knew it was bullshit, but he had been so immured in his own loneliness, that when it was lifted, even for a short while, it was an eye opening experience.

To have that weight back on him now, he felt almost nauseous. But Trent didn’t have to know that.

He pushed away from the door and made his way back down to the basement. It was time to get started. Leason followed him back down to the basement, offered to help again, but Trowa preferred to do this alone.

There was bathroom with a large shower downstairs, Trowa stripped to nothing and entered the stall. He began roughly exfoliating almost every inch of his exposed skin then grabbed a very fine-toothed combe and brushed any loose hairs away. An electric and straight razor took care of all the hair on his body but his scalp and eyebrows. That would have to be redone every few days with a protein that would denature any DNA left behind in the hair and dead skill cells he removed.

No chances in the field.

Trent pulled up Trowa’s list of cover identities while the other man was in the bathroom. “What’s the name? I’ll pull up the dyes you need.”

That brought Trowa up short, he hesitated. “Brecht, Sabian”

Trowa heard his second typing in the main room before Leason’s voice drifted to him. “Alias?”

“None listed.” Trent was brought up short with how curt his response was. There was no hesitation, no room for question.

He still tried though, “so what do we call you on the shuttle?”

“Brecht.”

The silence afterward let Trowa know that Trent got the message loud and clear. Leason took a deep breath before plunging into a different topic. “So what is the plan? You haven’t fully briefed me on what’s coming?”

“You’ll port hop. I’ve got a specific order with dates, how many days you’ll be there. The crew will observe as much as they can at every port. I have people I will be checking in with at several ports, so I’ll be on and off the ship throughout the journey.”

“I thought you were leading this from the crew?” Leason found himself standing upright and walking towards the room Trowa was in.

“No, you’re the captain for a reason. I’m just a lowly engineer that ship hops often, but I’m too good to dismiss permanently, so you deal with my absences. Got it?”

“Guess so.” Trent was reluctant to agree to this on such short notice, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t led a mission before, just never a group effort.

But then it wasn’t like he was alone either. He may be the only man standing from Trowa’s first class of espionage trainees, but there were several members of the third class mixed in with the newest trainees. That would help settle things. Trent realized with that thought that he knew who Trowa would be checking in with.

Technically, this newest class was labeled by the Preventers organization as the third class, but it was really the fourth. After the disastrous results of the first class, the powers that be had officially disbanded the program. That doesn’t mean Trowa actually listened to these particular orders.

There were five members of an unofficial second class that Trowa instructed. When Une reinstated the program under Barton’s control, he listed these men as members of the official second class, but Leason knew the truth.

He also knew that this mission had a dual purpose, yes, it was meant as a training mission. The newest recruits would be exploring the port as best they could, observing habits and traits, superstitions and facts as different cultures clashed in busy ports.

But there was another purpose that Trowa had only mentioned in passing with no detail. “So what else needs to be done in prep?”

Trowa’s voice was muffled. “If all goes accordingly, there should be a meeting set up for a new order and delivery. You’ll be doing odds and ends jobs I have worked to set up from port to port, but the bait I need to be taken is a pre-arranged accidental meeting with one of the buyer’s men.”

Pre-arranged ‘accidental’ meetings were hard to make happen, but they could be very useful in espionage. It makes your enemy think he’s in control, makes he or she think they brought you into the situation rather than trying to convince them to let you join. But, again, they could be difficult to arrange.

Then you add the potential complications that could arise with untrained wannabe infiltration agents. “On ship?”

“Yes, you’ll have to make it clear to the crew that they are not to speak to or around the buyers. Then you have to convince the buyers that you keep your crew separate from strangers due to the danger taking new illegal business from an unproven source. Think you can handle it?”

Trent’s mind was already working to put an appropriate spin on it, and knew it would be simple enough of a ruse. “Sure.” He turned back to the screen for reference, then pulled the appropriate tools needed for the first phase of Trowa’s transformation.

Leason’s disguise was a bit complicated, and difficult to pull off under long term stints underground due to the heavy makeup and prosthetic pieces that could easily be pulled off in the course of a fight. Trowa’s was different.

The looks of Sabian Brecht were meant to be used in the long term, bleaches and dyes would last for weeks before needing to be reapplied. His hair color was the same, and many men of the criminal sort used contacts to hide their original appearance, it would be expected.

A bottle was tossed into the bathroom, and Trowa took a cleansing breath before unscrewing the lid and beginning the torturous process of bleaching the pigment in his skin. The acrid smell was always an unpleasant addition to the burn applied to every part of his body that may be exposed to the view of others…which was pretty much everything but the essentials because some of the tougher crowds insisted on strip searches. But, in all honesty, bleaching his privates would probably be much more comfortable than his ears and eyelids.

The bleach didn’t adhere to strands of hair, so bleaching his scalp was easier than it could be. After the allotted time for treatment, Trowa rinsed the solution off, and stepped out to get the next bottle. While the skin was still burning, while the pores where still gasping for mercy, he applied the dye.

But deep down, past the acid bleeding through his skin, Trowa wanted it, knew he deserved it. For the crimes he had committed, and the crimes to come. That was the last acknowledged thought of the former Heavyarms pilot. It was time for Trowa to fade into the background.

He focused in on the sounds around him, tuning into the movements of the only other living soul around him. Knowing how and when to strike if his intentions were lethal. It was the constant state he would live in for the coming weeks; knowing and owning every man and woman around you and reigning in the desires to free their blood from its binding flesh.

Trowa’s body sank into a sort of crouch, his knees bent and elastic, his body bowed at the waist just enough to make him look shorter and put him into a spring-like stance. This man was constantly ready to unleash the force of his body against any opponent, but his appearance was deceptive.

The slight bends from ankle to waist, letting his spine curve down into a slight hunch made him look smaller, shorter, less of a threat. The way he walked was rhythmic in its rising and falling, making his gait look like he was loping along slowly, like he hadn’t a care in the world. Contrived to look somewhat awkward and clumsy, Trowa knew exactly what Sabian looked like to other hunters of men.

Take that and pair it with the long-sleeved shirts and clingy jeans that he wore would cause him to look like a skinny, awkward near-youth, just past his teens. Most would dismiss him offhand despite the fact that his hair dye was a red that was near neon in color, and his eyes were a burgundy red to match. Like he was a sulking not-yet-man desperately seeking attention, yet not worthy of it.

Layers and layers of deception, because ignoring him was exactly what the Sabian wanted.

After dying his hair and applying the few face altering products he would use with this identity, he was fully Sabian Brecht.

When he assumed the quietly arrogant persona of his new being, Leason excused himself to finish preparations. He was good at covering it, but Brecht could see through him easily, he unsettled the man and sent him running. All was as it should be; it was time to pull out his weapons and pack.

_______________________________________

Things have been kinda crazy hectic, so again, with the profuse apologies about the disappearance. And this chapter is more detail oriented than plot expanding. Things are going to start getting darker from here on out and I needed that separation chappie, but there will be brighter points when I intersperse the other pilots' viewpoints in with Trowa's. Please be patient, and send me some love if you've got the time.

A
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Trinity	By : Aestas Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4704 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Gundam Wing or its characters

Trinity