Written By: bikkothewriter
Pairings: Main 1x2, others may show up
Warnings: Yaoi, Language, blood, gore, lemon, lime, angst
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Splicing idea borrowed from Batman Beyond.
Rating: NC 17

Preventors' Case #84309: Splicers + Chapter Two


A phone number.

A phone number that might connect them to Dr. M.

A phone number that could be traced to Dr M's current location.

Heero had to fight to contain the smile that threatened to overtake his face. Between the index and middle fingers of his gloved hand, the little yellow note that gave him hope of finally making headway in his search for Dr. M.

"Trowa," Heero started but the man was already on his cell phone giving his clearance codes to someone at headquarters. Heero passed the note from his gloved hand to Trowa's and watched him leave the room, with no doubt that he would be able to tell Heero where the phone was made let alone it's location in a matter of minutes.

He turned back to Gemmell to find the young agent beaming with pride.

"Good find Gemmell," he complimented, not against letting his team members know that he appreciated their hard work. "Get these envelopes and the money to the lab and test for DNA and fingerprints."

"Yes, sir," she said enthusiastically. She moved to the rumpled bed to her evidence kit where she pulled a clear evidence bag where all of the envelopes, including Heero's, were quickly deposited into the bag, then sealed and safely stored inside the kit. Promising to call as soon as she found anything, Gemmell followed in Trowa's wake.

"You're going to trust something that important to her? Isn't she the youngest on your team?"

"She's no younger than me or Trowa, Lieutenant," he replied turning towards the woman.

"She has the least experience then."

"I believe in each and every one of my people, Lieutenant, and I wouldn't give them more than they could handle."

"Maybe that's why you haven't solved this case yet. You've been giving all the work to your juniors rather than doing any work yourself."

"And while you're here trying to pick fights with me, where are your people? Standing around my crime scene, twiddling their thumbs maybe?"

Heero took great satisfaction in watching the woman grind her teeth.

He followed the peeved woman as she left the bedroom to tear into the three officers who stood around the living room talking to one another. Bypassing the scene, he

headed into to the kitchen to find Weber crouched down taking photos of garbage that he'd spread out on a tarp.

Yomi Weber was nothing if not meticulous. He kept his hair perfectly trimmed, his uniform pressed and starched, his evidence kit fully stocked and in order, even his evidence collecting was meticulous. Food, receipts, bills, empty take-out containers and even napkins were each separated into their own neat little piles across the tarp. Heero would have thought the man had OCD if he didn't already have his psych evaluation stored in his office.

"Hey, boss," he said at Heero's approach. It surprised Heero that for someone so thorough in his work could be so laid back and friendly.

"Weber," he called in greeting, "What do you have here?"

"Well after I looked through her purse and found nothing but a billfold, I figured she'd just cleaned it out. There're about a dozen receipts here for a Cheng-Du on Belmont, all within the last week."

"That's not far from the mall where Lanie said she met her."

"Yeah and most of the receipts are just for soda. I'm thinking this was one of her pick-up spots."

"Is there anything else?" Heero asked crouching down beside the dark-haired man to look over the piles, happy to note that there wasn't much food to have spoiled or ruined the receipts.

"No, the rest just looks like regular trash."

"Has anyone cleared the bathroom?"

"No, but I can take it. I'm just about done here."

"Good. I-" Heero started only to be interrupted by Trowa coming back into the apartment.

"Commander, we've got a lock on the phone. It's on the move."

"Let's go."


When he had said 'Let's go', Heero had assumed, wrongly, that he and Trowa would chase down the roaming cell phone to find Dr M at the other end of it. Instead, it found them, or more Heero, standing in a filthy dumpster behind a bar searching through vodka bottles for the phone. He had not been amused by the search, nor by Trowa's snickering.

Good news had come in an hour later in the form of Gemmell having found not only fingerprints on the envelopes but a match in IAFIS. The match was to one Trent Montgomery, a minor felon who, at the beginning of the splicing fad, had been spliced with a bull. After being detained for inciting violence at a rave, he was forced to take the splicing antidote and was let back onto the streets. Now it seemed he was working for Dr M to help further the doctor's so-called noble cause to stop the government from oppressing people's genetic choice.

Matching his credit card records to the receipts left by Pepper, his team had found that he and Pepper had frequented several places, the three main locations being Barrington Mall, the Chinese restaurant Cheng-Du, and Luna's Café. Each member of his team were paired off to stake out the locations in hopes of catching the man unawares as they knew he would be wary of going home after Pepper's death. Hayers and Price were roaming the mall, Gemmell and Weber were drinking expensive coffee, and he and Trowa were sampling Chinese food.

While this task was work, Heero found that he was enjoying himself in Trowa's company. Trowa was one of the few people that he was close to and in the last few years he had come to depend on the taller man, not just at crime scenes and on missions but in his everyday life. Many people assumed that the man was stoic and never spoke, however when he was comfortable with someone he had no problem opening up and giving his opinion.

"A cactus is not a pet, Heero. You barely have to water it to take care of it."

"Feeding something and taking it for a walk doesn't constitute a pet either."

"Having a pet means taking care of something other than yourself, giving it love and attention. You don't love the cactus and you don't give it any attention."

"I water it."

"Once a month."

"You don't have pet."

"I don't need one when I have you to look after," he said, smirking at him.

Heero glared at him, unable to refute Trowa's claim. He had to admit to himself that the other man did indeed look after him as he did for Trowa. It was nothing to find Trowa in the doorway of his office after a long day and night on job with take-out in hand or for Heero to have a knock on his door at two in the morning from a tired and haggard Trowa, looking for a safe place to sleep after a nasty nightmare.

"So have you decided?" Trowa asked bringing them back to an old discussion they'd started at the beginning of the splicer case about what animal either of them would be spliced with.

"I haven't thought about it," he answered truthfully. He'd spent enough time in his life being poked by needles and injected with drugs that the urge to willing go in for anything resembling it turned him off.

"A turtle, maybe? Green is your color," Trowa joked, earning himself another glare.

"I hope the doctor who makes you a fox takes your vocal cords."

Trowa chuckled at him before answering, "It's hypothetical, although I think I would make a good fox. Cunning, crafty, and clever.

"Those are all the same thing."

He shrugged in response, smiling.

"Quatre would make a cute bunny," Heero said watching Trowa's face. He enjoyed the surprised looked that crossed his face as he pictured their blonde friend with long white ears and fluffy tail just as much as the sudden laugh.

Heero looked away from the other man at the sound of the door chime to an elderly woman with a toddler in tow. The boy bounced with excitement and the woman was hard pressed to keep her grip on him. He thought the boy looked cute in his newsboy cap that was two sizes to big for his head and baggy clothes. For a moment, he entertained the thought of having a child of his own but dismissed it as he had enough trouble remembering to water his cactus. It was as they neared the table that he got a good look at the boy's face and the smile and good mood faded from him and Trowa.


"I see him."

They both watched as the pair made it to the counter. While the woman placed their order, the boy, looking at himself in the mirrored counter, danced with his reflection. Heero could see the resemblance beginning to bud in the four year olds' face. The high cheekbones, the wide smile, the bright eyes: Duo. He felt his heart spasm as if it couldn't decide to stop or beat faster.

Duo Maxwell. Their lost comrade. He had disappeared so suddenly. Heero had been at the head of the investigation to find him but with no note left behind, no signs of struggle at his job or his home, there was nothing to go on. After a year of searching and still three more with no sign of the longhaired man, he had been declared legally dead and the investigation closed as a cold case. Now no more than ten feet away, stood what could be Duo's son.

He pushed his chair back intent on talking to the woman, but was stopped by Trowa's restraining hand on his wrist.

"Heero," he said, his gaze flicking pointedly to the door where Trent Montgomery stood. "He's more important."

"I know," he said nodding, but his eyes were drawn back to the boy and woman who were moving to take a seat while they waited for their meal. He wondered if the woman was his grandmother or a nanny. If it was her daughter, that Duo had fathered a child with. Did she know where Duo was?

He forced himself to take a deep breath, to focus on the task. Trowa was right, Trent and his connection to Dr M were more important than the woman and the boy. For now.

Trent seemed to be enough of a regular that when the small woman behind the counter saw his pale skin, dark hair and hooded eyes, she went to the back to grab his food and place it on the counter. He paid with the same card that they had used to track him, before taking the bags and turning to leave. Once he passed them, he and Trowa stood following the man out the door.

Heero gave one last look to the boy and the old woman before helping Trowa take Trent to the ground.


"I'm not telling you anything."

Heero wondered, not for the first time, why everyone he interrogated had to be so loud.

"I haven't asked you any questions."

Trent had gone from being human to being a bull to being human to being a snake. His pupils were slit, his tongue forked and green iridescent scales started at the top of his neck and slithered down his arms to his long thin fingers. The leather jacket he'd worn had neatly covered the scales and with it, he could pass as normal as long as he kept his tongue in his mouth and refrained from hissing.

"I want a lawyer."

"I've already called for you a court-appointed lawyer. He or she should be here any minute."

"I don't know anything."

"I haven't asked you any questions."

He sat facing Trent still in the civilian clothes he'd worn to Cheng-Du with Trowa. A white long-sleeved button down with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows over a pair of black slacks with loafers. At his back was the two-way mirror where behind it Trowa watched the both of them. To his right was the heavy steel door that led into the small room, which clicked twice before swinging open to reveal Trent's lawyer and Heero's second least favorite person.

Monica Rains was the best public defender L1 had to offer, which unfortunately meant she was always using her brilliant mind and tenacious attitude against him. Heero imagined her as a bulldog, once she got her teeth into a case she didn't let up until she'd ripped it to shreds. She was instrumental in making his case more difficult and it didn't help that she liked to gloat and often.

"Commander, I suggest you let my client go now and save yourself the trouble of pursuing this." She walked wide around the table, her high heels clicking loudly against the floor, to take a seat to Trent's right before continuing, "All you have is circumstantial evidence that you're trying to use to connect him to a known murderer."

"I'm not trying to do anything, Ms. Rains. Your client has been seen in the company of Pepper Daniels, a known associate of Dr. M. We have video footage of him handing her an envelope full of money. We have the envelope with his fingerprints all over it and the money."

"You're reaching, Commander. Associating with Pepper Daniels does not make him an accessory to murder."

"Actually it does, Ms Rains, as your client was the go-between for Pepper and Dr M."

"You don't have proof of that, Commander."

"Then maybe your client would like to explain how he was able to give her a thousand dollars when he doesn't have a job."

"Having money and no job is not a crime, Commander."

"It is when the money is obtained at the expense of other people's lives. Not only is your client an accessory before and after the fact, he's aiding and abating a murderer and he's been illegally spliced. Those are all very real crimes. "

"The splicing is a two year sentence. You're trying to charge my client with life in a penal colony for trying to make a living."

"A living that involves people dying, Ms Rains."

Rains turned to Trent, whispering in the snake-man's ear. The two shared a quiet conversation whispering back and forth between each other. Heero watched both their faces hoping for some clue as to where Rains might try to steer the conversation next. She pulled back a smile on her carefully made-up face.

"Are you willing to make a deal, Commander?"

"If your client gives me Dr M's real name and location, then I'm willing to drop all but the splicing charges," he answered, successfully keeping the excitement out of his voice.

"No," Trent said, "Not on the doctor."

"The doctor is all that I want from you," he said, frowning.

"I can't give you information on the doctor but I can tell you something else you'll want to know."

"What would that be?"

"I have information on an upcoming... Auction."

~ * ~

A/N: The phone number is real, feel free to call it and get a laugh.

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