fic: Santa Clarita: Santa Muerte: 1/?

Santa Clarita: Santa Murete: Chapter One
by Max


disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing
Warning: I’ve wandered pretty far afield from Gundam Wing. My Santa Clarita stories are wide and vast and primarily serve to entertain me. I hope others wil be able to enjoy them, but if I could write solid commercial fiction anymore, I’d probably have a nicer something.


Notes: This follows Alive... it might be interesting to note that there is another story in this series that I haven’t finished ... right after Alive, Wu was miffed that Duo did something he hadn’t done, so he cooked up a dinosaur.. which proceeded to chase them around... I really should finish that one. I’m pretty sure Duo would be fine with dino steak after they killed it in fair combat. Then there was a story that came from pure depression about how Joel, Martha, and Allen got together. Sometimes the darkness scares me.  So here we are, another new job and the stories are a little less dark... given that Duo, Heero, and Wu are about to attempt to raise Santa Murete from the dead....


Santa Murete: Chapter One

Their rooms shared a wall. Heero sat in the window, the blanket draped over one knee, his foot on Duo’s back. Duo lay on his belly without pajamas because he couldn’t see the point.  He knocked quietly on the wall, to see if Wufei would knock back. The walls were still perfectly well soundproofed, but they’d figured out a small invisible membrane that they could put on both sides of the wall so that when they tapped, the other side could hear it.  

In his room, the Chinese Imperial Emperor lay snuggled under a green crocheted blanket that Allen’s mother had made, dark bangs brushing over dark eyes, and a mission committed adventurous smile on his lips. He’d been waiting for Duo’s knock. His heart sped up a bit and he knocked back, morse code, “Ready.”

“Yes,” was tapped back and Wufei jumped up, silent and ninja like, already dressed in black cotton pants and a black Chinese top. He slipped his shoes on, made his bed carefully diverted the security around his window so he could get out without letting the house computer know he was doing so.

At that point, all of them still misunderstood what kind of intelligence embodied the house’s computer systems.

Martha rolled over, tugged at Joel’s hair, lovingly and teasingly. “They’re both out their windows, Blondy.”

Joel, who was quite happy to sleep with his head on Allen’s shoulder and Mary and M2’s heads on his thigh, really didn’t want to walk up and chase rotten little teenagers that just didn’t find enough value in a good racing game.  “Let’em. They can’t hurt much. They’re not that irresponsible.”

Mary kissed his thigh. “You don’t have to work tomorrow. The rest of us do.”

“Fuck,” Joel groaned.  “Can’t we just set up security that they can’t get out of?”

Martha ran her fingers through his curly hair, soothing and encouraging. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

“No,” Joel groaned.

“Besides, M2 said, biting his thigh just a little. “I thought you had... a plan.”

Joel sat up, one eye narrowed, a crooked grin on his face. “Oh yes! M, you want to come?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I think I do.”

Allen woke enough to run his hand down Joel’s back. “You promised me a run in the morning,” he said.

“No problem,” Joel agreed. He snuggled up against the former football player for a moment, kissing his shoulder. “Run we shall! But right now! I am going to make sure that Death rises at Death’s command,” he said ominously.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Allen said playfully.

<><>

Duo, Heero, and Wufei ran in single file to the garage, all in black, only the whites of their eyes showing.  Duo’s deft fingers worked over the security on the transportation garage while Wufei and Heero stood guard. A couple moments later, the three of them emerged on an all black motorcycle. Duo drove, Heero right behind him, and Wufei on the very back, no helmets and not a sound as they flew down the ranch driveway and a very ticketable speed.

As they sped down the highway, they passed the new deputy. He stared at his radar gun, blinked, looked down the road, looked at his radar gun again, frowned, and decided he needed another drink of coffee. Those fuckers down at the station told him weird things happened out by the Murphy Ranch, but he was sure they were just playing some cow tipping bullshit on him. There was no way that an electric motorbike with three riders was going to be going 320 mph at one in the morning. There was no fucking way he was going back to the station and reporting any such fucking stupidity.  He could just hear Raker asking if he’d given chase. Like really?

<><>

In the garage, with the security still disabled, Joel snickered. “They took your bike, M-chan,” he teased.

She threw her leg over the bike in his spot. “Yeah? I thought they were going to take yours, so I switched our bikes before dinner.” She smiled with innocent charm at him, then pressed her thumb on the secure trigger. The bike hummed to life.

“Fuck me,” Joel grumbled.

“I can do that,” she offered, still maintaining a sweet innocent smile.

He grabbed a collar for both of them, and fastened hers around her neck then his before throwing his leg over and taking the backseat. In the event of a crash, their collars would  expand into very effective protective devices.  An arm over her shoulder, he pointed the way and she shot them forward, silent and illegal fast.

<><>

The deputy saw them go by, looked at his radar gun, took out a smoke. The Murphys were clearly into some freaky shit, but there was no fucking way.   He hadn’t seen nothing. Not a damn thing.

<><>

La Madera wasn’t a big town. The high school was in the next town over, but it was the closest town to the ranch and it looked, probably a lot like it had when it was founded in the 1800’s. When Quatre saw photos of it, he thought it was a ‘tourist trap’, but Duo didn’t really understand that idea. His first thought was that the folk were eating tourists like they at other mammals. He so had seen movies like that! It made perfect sense, but Martha swore to him that all the townies wanted was money and the occasional opportunity for sexual interaction. Mary said if he couldn’t see the difference between eating a cow or eating a person, he might be brain damaged. He said she was a lawyer who was sleeping with both Joel and Martha, so she might brain damaged too. Martha almost smiled. She didn’t, however, rule out brain damage in either case.

Be that as it may, the three zipped silently into town, around Mr. Wu’s cow that never stayed at home and down to the field where the traveling preacher had set up his revival.  The tent was blue and white with a glorious painting of Santa Muerte down over the flap that would open to be come the door.  They stashed their stolen bike behind what seemed like ticket booth.  As they made their way around the camp, setting their own small drones as perimeter guards, they closed silently on the preacher’s trailer. It was a metal affair, small and round, and looking like something that had been kicked by mobile doll and hammered back out at some point. Duo went right for the rear window, the only sizeable window, violet eyes peering through as if he were one of Santa’s favorite helpers, just doing his job, right where he was supposed to be, innocent and full of only the very best of intentions.

There was Father Johnson, who by all accounts had been a dependable, if transient member of the community for about twice Duo’s claimed age, but there he was, thin white hair waving in the air, cheeks flushed, eyes clenched shut as he did what appeared to be a blow up doll with long blonde curls doggy style. Just as Duo tried with all his will to turn away, the man’s hips thrust hard forward and the doll lifted her head, rosy lips parting as she moaned and begged, “Do it again Father Johnson!”

Duo’s face went pale, he spun and sank down to a crouch.

“What did you see,” Wufei hissed.

Heero stared at him expectantly, blue eyes wanting a report.

Duo’s cheeks ballooned for a moment. “He’s busy. Come on,” he said, surging forward, refocusing on the mission.

A moment later they were under the edge of the tent and into the sanctuary.

“But what was he doing,” Wufei insisted. “He wasn’t sleeping, was he?”

“Nope, not sleeping,” Duo said, hands resting on the glass case that served as an alter. “He was... er .. kinda praying.”

Wufei crossed his arms, dark eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why would he be praying?”

“How should I know? He’s a religious folk doing what religious folk do. He was on his knees.” Duo said firmly, violet eyes glaring at Wufei.

“Oh my god,” Wufei said, face going long, mouth falling open for a moment. “He was having SEX... that old man was having sex! Who was he with?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Heero said as he uncapped the glass cutter. “This isn’t enough bones to make a whole human skeleton.”

Duo shrugged. “Yeah, well, there should be enough. Wu, you gonna set up the power supply or stand there thinkin about that old dude’s Johnson?”
Wufei pointed at him indignantly. “I wasn’t! You brought it up! You put it in my mind! Oh my god! Oh no... what if he’s... with some of the bones! Some people.. you know.. and that could be problematic....”

“He wasn’t usin bones,” Duo said, bouncing his eyebrows as laid out the grid that they’d be connecting to the power supply Wufei had carried.

“Well, it’s still disrespectful! Human bones should be treated respect and honor! People in Wyoming have no honor!”

Duo was in the process of moving a metacarpal when he paused, lips puckering for a moment, violet eyes a slit, until he put the bone between his teeth.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Heero said calmly, carrying out their plan with great efficiency. “We don’t know what her cause of death was. It might have been disease.”

Wufei’s expression was a supernova of disapproval, mouth wide, boney finger pointing shakily, chin lifted. “You lack even the residue of human culture! Put that ... ... put it down!”

Duo rolled his eyes. “Calm Wu-dude! She’s gonna be back on her feet with all’er bones in a moment. She’ll be the girlfriend you’ve been waiting for!”

“Wait!” Wufei said, tongue worrying at his tongue in a Duo-esque expression. “I have a wife. We could raise Meiran too!”

“One chick at a time,” Duo said, bouncing the bone in the palm of his hand before putting it into place with the rest that Heero had already laid out.  “As fer cause o’death,” Duo said, bouncing her skull, before turning the back towards the others, revealing a very solid V shaped hole. “I’m pretty sure this’ad somethin ta do with it.”

“Oh cool,” Wufei said, drawing close to study the skull. He pulled a pair of spectacles from his pocket, pressed the power button and gasped. “OH man... a real murder, but she’s old. These bones are like over a thousand years old!”

“Cool!” Duo said, positioning the skull. “Maybe she really is Santa Muerte. Father Johnson is gonna be so jazzed to meet her in the flesh!”




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