Disclaimer: not mine

For: [ raletha ]

Request: Trowa/Zechs, my x-dressing universe

Drabble #7
by Merith

He was in my office when I returned from a meeting. Lounging back in the one comfortable seat, his boots propped up on the corner of my desk, he looked as though he'd been there awhile. I shoved long legs off the desk and out of my way.

"Space Science Digest?" he asked, holding up one of the two magazines I knew were in my office. I merely grunted, and tossed the notebook beside the computer monitor. Cocking an eyebrow, he sat straight, blond hair falling forward. "Bad day?"

I shook my head, lips twitching. "Another ineffective meeting." Reaching across the desk, I pulled the circular from his hand. "And I'll have you know, I only get it for the pictures." His laugh made me smile.

"I should have known." Humor gone, he picked up a blue folder from the side of his desk. "I've got a special job I think is right up your alley."

The glint in his eye should have warned me, but I broke the seal and flipped open the folder anyway. Though I was officially on Merquise's team, he rarely handed me assignments. Blue, sealed folders meant special ops, special or unique training. Half a page into the brief, I glared at him.

"It seems more up your alley than mine." I was tempted to throw the case back at him. Just because I was prepared to do unusual things for him, didn't mean I'd do it for someone else.

His blond head shaking, he chuckled. "No, it's not my 'thing'. Places like 'Club Domame' cater to a more specialized crowd." He reached over and turned to a red labeled tab. "I prefer more lace and skin than leather and chrome."

I could only stare at the photos and shift uneasily in my seat. Though more inclined to agree with him, the image of Zechs decked out in black leather, open vest over his chest… I shifted again and caught him looking at me. "And if I refuse? Who else would pick this up?"

He studied me for several long moments before he spoke, "I will be the lead agent." He dropped his eyes, and I tried to ignore the sudden thump at his tone. "This assignment requires two agents. One as the" his lip curled in distaste "Master and one as slave." Zechs raised his head and held my gaze steadily. "Some unusual activity might be needed. Appearances have to be maintained."

The thumping climbed to a roar, my stomach burned in a low fire. "No." He raised a brow at me in question. "I'll do it. You will not be partnered with anyone else."

To his credit he schooled his expression and refrained from showing the amusement I knew danced under the surface. "Very good." He stood, and I forgave the smirk. "As a reward, I'll let chose our outfits â€" carte blanche."

The leap of instant excitement must have shown, for as Zechs gave in to the laugh and headed for the door. I flipped to the photos again, and visualized a certain tall blond, all black leather and shining chrome.


back to fiction

back to merith fiction

back home