Author's Note: This fits with chapters twenty-nine and thirty of Witness. And since my ex-to-be is off with a new fling, I find myself with more time to write again...at least, now that I picked up the pieces and pulled myself back together. I will try to keep the momentum going, and maybe get to an "Academy" update as well. Sorry for the delay and thanks for your patience.

Diary of a Protected Witness Part 24
Hot Tubs

Yo, Diary:

I don't know why Heero has to be such an ass. I mean, he went from being half-decent, to being a total fucking jerk in, like, two-point-five seconds flat.

First he was flirting with me in the kitchen--I almost got a kiss out of him, and I will bitch Trowa out for interrupting that!

Then, I heard him telling Trowa he was only interested in my value as a witness. I was a fucking bargaining chip towards a big job promotion for him. If he got me to the trial alive, and I helped them convict Khushrenada, it'd be a huge feather in his career cap, so to speak.

The asshole.

I don't know what to think. Am I really nothing but a bargaining chip to him? Did all of his flirting and hinting at more than a passing attraction mean nothing? Is he just concerned about the damage it might do to his career if word got out that he'd fucked a witness?

I have got to stop doing this to myself--brooding over something I can never have. I need to focus on something other than the irresistible pull of Heero Yuy's gorgeous body.

And what better way to do that than to lounge in a hot tub naked with two sexy-as-hell guys?

Yep.

I finally got Quatre out of his clothes and into the hot tub. Want my recipe for seduction? Well, here goes...

First, we had a truly delicious dinner, complete with wine, salmon, corn and a variety of vegetables our benefactor had brought along. That got everyone into a nice, comfortable, relaxed mood.

Well, everyone except Chang, who didn't care for my suggestive comments to Trowa.

And Yuy, who seemed to feel it necessary to reprimand me for embarrassing 'Fei. Asshole. Yeah, he was still deep on my shit list.

Anyhow, to get back to the fun stuff...

When our babysitters finally left, Tro', Quat and I had the deck all to ourselves. The evening light was fading, and stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky. It was the perfect romantic setting.

Ah--this is where you tell me to get lost so the puppy-eyed pair could hook up? No way in Hell.

I knew that Trowa was just insecure enough to hold back from making a move on a successful, uptown guy like Quatre. And I was afraid that the sharp-as-nails lawyer didn't know how to proceed outside the courtroom; he seemed to be timid when it came to matters of the heart.

So I stuck around...and enjoyed the show.

"So, Kitty-Quat," I purred, pushing up from my comfy seat on the lounge chair and slinking over to put a hand on his shoulder. "It's time for your first lesson in stripping."

He looked up, his face flushed from the wine he'd been imbibing freely all evening. (And yes, I'd made sure to top off his glass every chance I got.) "Uh-- But-- D-Duo, I'm not sure--"

"C'mon...be daring!" I urged, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet. "Live a little."

"Shini--" Trowa cautioned, looking simultaneously worried that I was embarrassing the inhibited lawyer, and hopeful that maybe he'd get to see quite a bit more of the inhibited lawyer.

I darted him a quick glare, and then a cheeky wink. "Don't want me to teach him? Then you do it."

Trowa's fingers twitched as if he could feel Quatre's skin under them. "Duo--when I taught you, we'd already--I mean--" He faltered, unable to say out loud that we'd been sleeping together for quite a while before he taught me to strip. It's one thing to show a lover how to peel out of skin-tight clothes, and quite another to show someone you've yet to see naked.

Of course, once I got over my body shyness, I was a lot more forceful than Tro' about getting what I wanted. Case in point, he'd never have pulled a gun on a man to make him submit to a blow job.

I was a lot wilder than Trowa in some ways. I had less regard for my health and well-being. I think it was partly because of my life as a street kid--seemed like luck was the only thing that'd kept me alive so far; and therefore if luck took me out, it was just evening the score.

Not that I wanted to die. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed living very, very much--and even moreso since getting off the streets for good.

But I was willing to push the boundaries of decency and safety just a little further than my best friend. And if I offended Quatre, it was no big deal. I wasn't the one who had the hots for him--though I'll admit those wide blue eyes were very alluring.

Maybe it was the eyes that made Trowa get a worried frown line down his brow. He knew how into blue eyes I was. If he thought my frustration with Yuy was building to a boiling point, maybe he'd start to wonder how much seriousness there was beneath my joking with Quatre.

I tugged Quatre over to the music player we'd set up earlier, and fanned out my cd's. "You want a heavy beat--or slow and sensuous?" I asked him.

"Uh--" His glance sought Trowa's, and my chicken-shit buddy blushed and looked down at his feet. "N-not like what you two used the other night," he stammered. "Something a little--slower maybe?"

"You got it," I purred, shuffling through to find a song with a slow enough tempo to ease Quatre into the mood. I had 'em all--Rocky Mountain Way, by Joe Walsh, Slow Ride, by Foghat--anything with a slow, rhythmic beat. I settled on the former, since it's got a nice, hip-rocking lilt to it and it's a pretty long song. I popped it into the boom box and hit the play button. "Okay, Kitten--here we go."

"K-kitten?"

"Well if Tro' an' me are The Big Cats, you need a stage name, too. And--" Here I ran a caressing hand across his cheek and down his chest. "I'll bet you purr like a kitten when someone strokes you just right."

Quatre gulped and turned an even brighter shade of red.

I never knew you could embarrass a lawyer. I guess I thought they didn't have feelings. But I had to know if Quat did, before I was gonna trust him with my buddy's heart, y'know?

Trowa'd been loved and left once before, by a guy who found out what he did for work and couldn't handle it. I wasn't taking any chances.

"Here kitty kitty," I crooned, taking both of Quatre's hands and tugging him into the center of the deck. "Rock your hips like this--side to side--nice an' slow. Close your eyes and tilt your head back a little and just let the music move you."

Hey, for a guy who acted a bit prudish, Quatre had a really awesome sense of rhythm. He had no trouble at all loosening up and moving with the beat of the music, and by the time I had him running his hands down his chest and teasing at his buttons, I thought he was more of a natural at stripping than I'd been.

Didn't take much effort after that. Quat and I ended up practically naked in no time, and when I dragged him towards the hot tub, he wasted no time in dropping that last article of clothing along the way.

The three of us ended up soaking in the steamy water, just talking--about how Quatre felt about stripping, how Trowa had taught me in the first place--and in between the silly talk and banter, the lawyer let slip some details about himself. He was from a huge family, with lots of sisters, but no brothers. He'd grown up in a very straight-laced household--but by the time he was bound for law school, he'd informed them that he was gay and to stop trying to fix him up with eligible women.

A brave guy, I couldn't help but think.

As a result of his declaration of independence, he ended up paying his own way through college. Though most of his sisters were supportive of his lifestyle, his father had cut him off without a cent. Bastard.

But Quatre had held his ground and after graduation, he and his father more or less reconciled, shortly before the old man passed away. I was glad for that. It would've sucked if he'd dropped dead before they at least patched things up.

At any rate, Trowa and I learned more about the hot blonde lawyer, and in turn shared details of our lives--at least those that weren't already common knowledge.

And I teased the shit out of Quat, until I had him so hot and bothered it was a wonder he didn't jump both Trowa and me right there in the water. I could tell it was beginning to irk Trowa, too--and at that point, when I'd sidled around to straddle Quat's naked lap (and yeah, parts of him were very interested in the hot bodies sharing the tub)--I leaned in and whispered "Tro' wants you, Kitten--real bad. I think he's even starting to love you. You break his heart, and I'll rip yours out, got it?"

He gave me a startled look, and then turned a speculative one Trowa's way, and I hastily made my exit, to a teasing tug on my braid from my former dance partner, and the knowledge that Quatre was already in motion towards him.

Yep. I set it all up, and all they had to do was lock lips. I'd even waited until I was pretty sure most of the alcohol haze had passed; I didn't want either of them thinking they'd only acted in a moment of drunken lust.

I made my way inside, feeling both proud of my matchmaking abilities, and a bit put out that I was headed for bed alone as a result. Y'know--damned if ya do, damned if ya don't.

And it sure looked like I was damned. I mean, Yuy started in on me, claiming I'd made a play for Quatre--and then I realized his surveillance showed everything that had gone on out on that deck. Not that I was ashamed or anything--but he bitched me out about Quat, and then when I told him he was what I wanted, he ended up walking out on me. Again.

I dunno. Maybe I'm losing my touch. Used to be I could have any guy I wanted. I guess the trouble is, there's only one I want now; the one I can't have.

Of course, dozing off with thoughts like those, it was no wonder I had the mother of all nightmares. Not that I can remember many of the details...just the feelings left behind...pain, terror, panic...as if everything I feared the most was clawing at me...dragging me towards a horrible fate.

I woke up screaming, of course, and then lights came on, and I heard the pounding of feet, and then warm arms went around me and Trowa's soothing voice was whispering reassurances in my ear.

Oh, God! Trowa. Thank God for him.

When I realized we were the subject of three puzzled and curious gazes, I just buried my face against him and begged him to make them go away, which he did.

I've never known how he does it, but Trowa can soothe away my nightmares like no one I've ever known. Even Zechs couldn't get me to fall back to sleep after I had one; I usually ended up in his kitchen baking brownies or something the rest of the night, and sipping whatever fancy-assed booze he had on hand.

He'd caught me at it once, and I'd just flat-out told him that after a patented Maxwell Screaming Nightmare, I needed space and something to occupy my hands. It seemed to upset him that he couldn't calm my fears and help me to get back to sleep, but that's just the way it was.

Trowa, on the other hand, could somehow hold me tight enough and say just the right things to get me grounded in the present again. And then he'd talk.

Yep. Good old "man of few words" Trowa Barton could talk my ear off, in a soft, calming tone that just relaxed the shit out of me. He'd babble on about the circus--maybe a story about a lion cub he had to bottle feed, or the time an ostrich escaped and he had to chase it around town for hours. Didn't really matter what he said; there was just something about the matter-of-fact tone he used and the husky sound of his voice; it always did the trick for me.

And it worked that night at the lake house, too. I was back asleep before I knew it, and every time a nightmare nipped at the edges of my awareness, Trowa's warm embrace and whispered reassurances would send it packing.

Have I mentioned how much I love the guy? And how much I owe him?

OWARI

 

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