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calic0cat*cough* Well, this was supposed to be a ficlet for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
gw500 challenge #25 "Accents". Supposed to. However, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sunhawk16 has informed me that it's a teaser, not a ficlet. And she's right, darn it.
Oh well, I'll post it anyway. Maybe someone will be sufficiently intrigued to buy one of my Moonridge Auction fics and bump this to the top of my "write this *now*" list...
Title: No Way
Author: Calic0cat
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing
GW500 Challenge: #25 Accents
Words: 924
"Unhand me at once!"
Duo froze. Impossible. That sharp voice couldn't belong to who he thought it did.
"Now, now, pretty, me 'n' the boys jest wanna show ya a good time ..."
"No, thank you, sir. I am not interested. Now please take your hands off of me!"
Damn. That accent and that voice sure did sound like... But there was no fucking way that she'd be way the hell out here on a rundown old resource satellite. Especially not alone.
"C'mon now, missy..." the man slurred.
Duo scowled as the woman once again demanded her release, her grammar and diction perfect despite the faint quaver in her voice. Fuck. That couldn't possibly be the person it sounded like but he was going to have to get involved, regardless of exactly who the hell she was. Whoever she was, she had no business being in a place like this; that much was obvious just from listening to her speak. Spacers and asteroid miners were a tough lot - tough, colonial, and piss-poor. An aristocratic Earth accent like *that* was like waving a red rag in front of a bull.
He downed the remainder of his beer and set the glass on the counter. Dropping a few creds beside it, Duo slid off the barstool. Before heading towards the doorway to the street, he caught the bartender's eye and gave her a quick hand signal. The burly woman scowled. Duo sighed and pulled out a handful of notes, peeling off several. She hesitated, then nodded. He added them to the payment already on the bar then headed for the door.
"*Please* let me pass. I just need to make a call..." The voice didn't sound self-assured now. More like desperate on the verge of panic.
Roughly, Duo elbowed his way through the cluster of drunks blocking the door. "Fer god's sake babe, how many times have I gotta tell ya ta stay t'hell on th'fuckin' ship?!" he demanded gruffly, knocking groping hands away from the woman. He barely spared her a glance - sharp chin, concealing cap pulled low, oversized shirt and rolled-up pants that failed to hide the curves beneath - as he shoved her against a wall and planted himself in front of her.
"She yers, Maxwell?!"
There was a sharp intake of breath behind him. Duo snapped, "Keep yer damn trap shut, woman!" over his shoulder before giving the incredulous miner a dangerous glare. "None of yer damn business. Y'wanna make somethin' of it?" he demanded coldly. One hand rested on the knife snug against the small of his back. The other he raised very slightly, angling it so that the laser-sharp edge tucked between the fingers glinted in warning.
Belligerently, the man growled, "Mebbe I do..."
Before the miner had a chance to do anything, a brusque voice shouted, "Hey, you lot can't block th'door like this! Yer keepin' out th'payin' cust'mers! Clear outta there! Iffen I have ta call Security, ya won't be drinkin' here n'more!"
Most of the crowd melted away, unwilling to risk banishment from the only bar within a few million miles in any direction. Duo returned the knife to its sheath on the inside of his forearm with a quick flick of his wrist, keeping a wary eye on the troublemaker and his remaining two companions. "Dunno 'bout you lot but I sure as hell ain't gonna get tossed outta Bertha's. No way, no how. So how's about I buy you boys a round 'n' we fergit anythin' ever happened?" he offered congenially.
The troublemaker was still looking for a fight but his buddies overruled him, more than willing to let bygones be bygones in exchange for a few drinks. Duo waved them on into the bar, pausing for an instant to turn to the woman and hiss, "Keep your mouth *shut* and stick close. I'll get you out of here once they're distracted."
She raised her head, bright blue eyes meeting his. Holy shit. It really *was* her. Fuck.
The young woman started to open her mouth and Duo shook his head sharply. She frowned, then nodded silently. A slender, trembling hand tucked a few stray strands of hair back up under the hat before tugging the cap's bill down to shadow the face beneath it even more thoroughly. Duo grimaced, ordering, "And keep your hands out of sight!" The lack of calluses sure wouldn't add credence to his implication that she was a shipmate. And he sure as hell didn't want anyone to figure out who she really was. Taking a deep breath, Duo headed into the bar, his newly acquired charge close at his heels.
As he settled onto a stool and threw a seemingly-casual arm around the waist of the woman standing beside him, he couldn't help wondering just what the hell Relena was doing *here*, of all places... And where the fuck was Heero, her ever-present and ever-dutiful shadow?!
But this was neither the time nor the place for those questions. And frankly, Duo wasn't too sure that he even wanted to know. They were part of a life he'd left behind, one that he had no intention of going back to.
No, Duo wasn't going to even ask those questions. He would get Relena out of here, dump her off safely at the office of the satellite's Security forces, then wash his hands of the whole damn mess. He didn't care what was going on and there was no way in *hell* that he was going to get involved.
Absolutely, positively no way.
Really.
gw500 challenge #25 "Accents". Supposed to. However, sunhawk16 has informed me that it's a teaser, not a ficlet. And she's right, darn it. Oh well, I'll post it anyway. Maybe someone will be sufficiently intrigued to buy one of my Moonridge Auction fics and bump this to the top of my "write this *now*" list...
Title: No Way
Author: Calic0cat
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing
GW500 Challenge: #25 Accents
Words: 924
"Unhand me at once!"
Duo froze. Impossible. That sharp voice couldn't belong to who he thought it did.
"Now, now, pretty, me 'n' the boys jest wanna show ya a good time ..."
"No, thank you, sir. I am not interested. Now please take your hands off of me!"
Damn. That accent and that voice sure did sound like... But there was no fucking way that she'd be way the hell out here on a rundown old resource satellite. Especially not alone.
"C'mon now, missy..." the man slurred.
Duo scowled as the woman once again demanded her release, her grammar and diction perfect despite the faint quaver in her voice. Fuck. That couldn't possibly be the person it sounded like but he was going to have to get involved, regardless of exactly who the hell she was. Whoever she was, she had no business being in a place like this; that much was obvious just from listening to her speak. Spacers and asteroid miners were a tough lot - tough, colonial, and piss-poor. An aristocratic Earth accent like *that* was like waving a red rag in front of a bull.
He downed the remainder of his beer and set the glass on the counter. Dropping a few creds beside it, Duo slid off the barstool. Before heading towards the doorway to the street, he caught the bartender's eye and gave her a quick hand signal. The burly woman scowled. Duo sighed and pulled out a handful of notes, peeling off several. She hesitated, then nodded. He added them to the payment already on the bar then headed for the door.
"*Please* let me pass. I just need to make a call..." The voice didn't sound self-assured now. More like desperate on the verge of panic.
Roughly, Duo elbowed his way through the cluster of drunks blocking the door. "Fer god's sake babe, how many times have I gotta tell ya ta stay t'hell on th'fuckin' ship?!" he demanded gruffly, knocking groping hands away from the woman. He barely spared her a glance - sharp chin, concealing cap pulled low, oversized shirt and rolled-up pants that failed to hide the curves beneath - as he shoved her against a wall and planted himself in front of her.
"She yers, Maxwell?!"
There was a sharp intake of breath behind him. Duo snapped, "Keep yer damn trap shut, woman!" over his shoulder before giving the incredulous miner a dangerous glare. "None of yer damn business. Y'wanna make somethin' of it?" he demanded coldly. One hand rested on the knife snug against the small of his back. The other he raised very slightly, angling it so that the laser-sharp edge tucked between the fingers glinted in warning.
Belligerently, the man growled, "Mebbe I do..."
Before the miner had a chance to do anything, a brusque voice shouted, "Hey, you lot can't block th'door like this! Yer keepin' out th'payin' cust'mers! Clear outta there! Iffen I have ta call Security, ya won't be drinkin' here n'more!"
Most of the crowd melted away, unwilling to risk banishment from the only bar within a few million miles in any direction. Duo returned the knife to its sheath on the inside of his forearm with a quick flick of his wrist, keeping a wary eye on the troublemaker and his remaining two companions. "Dunno 'bout you lot but I sure as hell ain't gonna get tossed outta Bertha's. No way, no how. So how's about I buy you boys a round 'n' we fergit anythin' ever happened?" he offered congenially.
The troublemaker was still looking for a fight but his buddies overruled him, more than willing to let bygones be bygones in exchange for a few drinks. Duo waved them on into the bar, pausing for an instant to turn to the woman and hiss, "Keep your mouth *shut* and stick close. I'll get you out of here once they're distracted."
She raised her head, bright blue eyes meeting his. Holy shit. It really *was* her. Fuck.
The young woman started to open her mouth and Duo shook his head sharply. She frowned, then nodded silently. A slender, trembling hand tucked a few stray strands of hair back up under the hat before tugging the cap's bill down to shadow the face beneath it even more thoroughly. Duo grimaced, ordering, "And keep your hands out of sight!" The lack of calluses sure wouldn't add credence to his implication that she was a shipmate. And he sure as hell didn't want anyone to figure out who she really was. Taking a deep breath, Duo headed into the bar, his newly acquired charge close at his heels.
As he settled onto a stool and threw a seemingly-casual arm around the waist of the woman standing beside him, he couldn't help wondering just what the hell Relena was doing *here*, of all places... And where the fuck was Heero, her ever-present and ever-dutiful shadow?!
But this was neither the time nor the place for those questions. And frankly, Duo wasn't too sure that he even wanted to know. They were part of a life he'd left behind, one that he had no intention of going back to.
No, Duo wasn't going to even ask those questions. He would get Relena out of here, dump her off safely at the office of the satellite's Security forces, then wash his hands of the whole damn mess. He didn't care what was going on and there was no way in *hell* that he was going to get involved.
Absolutely, positively no way.
Really.
