Xandra: Dorothy lovers beware, I HATE that bitch with a passion, and I came
up with this idea in my sleep, so I thought I'd work it into a new fic.
This story contains adult language, yaoi and a soon to be classic love-
triangle involving a Latin acrobat, a bitchy blonde and a stressed-out
aristocrat, with one hitch in the middle...a little girl named Katherine
Winner. Read, enjoy, and no flaming me.
[\\Flashback\\]
//thoughts//
EMPHASIS
*MORE EMPHASIS*
~ Switching POV to someone else
**time elapsed (hours, days)**
**** more time elapsed (months) ****
****
My Little Katie
By Xandra
Prologue
****
March 10, AC 198--8:49pm...
"Dorothy, I don't know if I should--"
"Oh, come on, Quatre. It isn't going to hurt you to come inside for a minute, is it?"
He sighed. Well, she had asked him out, and he had no choice but to be courteous and spend just a little more time with her. Certainly, he didn't exactly like Dorothy like that, but he didn't hate her either, and he hated seeing a woman cry, or making one feel bad, so he was obliging her with a date. Now that they were back to her penthouse, Quatre had been more than ready to drop her off and go home, but she had insisted he come in for a while, because it was cold, which was true. What was the harm of humoring her JUST a bit more? With a shake of his head, he allowed her to cart him inside by his arm. "All right," he sighed. "I'll stay for a little bit, but I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, so I can't be too long, okay?"
She nodded, beaming up at him, and he smiled despite himself. As long as he didn't hurt anyone, he was okay with whatever went on.
He allowed himself to be sat on a large, overstuffed couch in her overdone living room. The couch was eggplant purple with black pillows, and the carpet was bright cerulean, with lava lamps of all colors decorating the corners, and strangely shapes chairs here and there. Well, she was odd, but at least she was expressive! He stared around at all of the odd colors decorating the inner side of the penthouse as she milled about here and there, busying herself with something. //Wow, I'm getting dizzy!// he thought as his eyes fell across a surreal painting on the wall across from him. He went cross-eyed. "Um..." he said, trying to straighten his vision. "I, uh...like your house, Dorothy. Very...creative."
"Thank you!" she called out to him. She was in the kitchen, he assumed, though he wasn't sure. Would she tile another room of her house without a good reason? It was possible with her taste! Why on earth did she like him if she loved things to be showy and extravagant? He was dull compared to just her living room! "I decorated it myself! I always liked colors."
//Maybe my shirt is what got her,// he thought, wryly. For once, he wasn't wearing a pink shirt, NOW anyway. She had insisted they go to a movie, so he had done his best to be informal, but that hadn't really worked, so he had been forced to ask Duo for dressing tips. That had ended in a disaster, and Heero had been forced to redress him. Three hours at their house had not been his ideal afternoon! Now he was dressed in well-fitting jeans and an unbuttoned dress-shirt with a tank top under it, and that was about as close as he had come to acceptable.
What was she doing in there anyway?
~
Dorothy smirked as she watched him from her kitchen. He was so cute...and soon he'd belong to her. She had been planning this for a long time, working it out carefully so her plan couldn't fail. She knew him well enough to know that it couldn't fail. Quatre was a man bound by honor, unlike most of the pigs that called themselves men nowadays, and that meant that any mistake he made--or THOUGHT he made--he had to compensate for instantly or risk eternal damnation in his own mind. She knew this well, and she was going to use it against him.
She checked the test results, then nodded. It had to be tonight, or it wouldn't work, and she might only have this one chance if she messed up. Drugging him, after all, would only work so many times before he realized something. That was why she had to do it right the first time.
"Are you thirsty, Quatre?" she called to him, innocently.
"Um...not really, but..."
"Oh, but I just made some lemonade for you..."
"Oh...well...I guess I'm thirsty, then...okay, sure."
She smirked to herself. His kindness would be her godsend and his condemnation. With a smile, she hastily pulled a little bottle from her pocket and inspected it, then picked up the glass of lemonade and popped the top, shaking a pill into her hand. She set it on the counter, then picked up her cookbook and dropped it with a thud on it, crushing it.
"Dorothy? What was that?"
She shrugged, innocently smiling as she peeked out at him. "Oops. I knocked my cookbook over. I'm so clumsy sometimes!"
He offered her an uncertain smile and looked away, and she knew why. He was uncomfortable around her, especially when they were alone, and the reason for that was as clear the blue in his eyes--he was gay. Dorothy had figured it out a long time ago, and it had been almost devastating, knowing that her chances with Quatre after that tiny mishap with the rapier after their fencing bout had gone from fifty percent to zero. However, she not only knew that he was gay, but that he was homophobic, or he was afraid to SHOW that he was gay, and afraid to admit it openly. He was a closet case!
To add insult to injury, she had easily deduced who he had his eye on, too. It was that lowlife, Trowa Barton, the one that had saved his life and her own on Libra before it had gone up. That didn't matter, though--as far as she was concerned, all was fair in love and war, and if Quatre wasn't going to confess to that creep, he was open game. Besides, it wasn't like Barton had made any moves himself, even though it was OBVIOUS he was gay too. This was why she was getting to Quatre now--she didn't want to give him the chance to tell the clown how he felt, or else she'd never get what she wanted from him.
She brushed the powdered pill into the lemonade, then stirred it with a pink straw and shook a little sugar in to hide the extra flavor. She had ordered these pills especially from the scientists that had worked for her grandfather, so she knew they would come through for her. Those people were insane geniuses, all of them, and they were all on her side.
With a sigh, she brought two glasses of lemonade out and set them on the little glass table in front of the couch that Quatre was sitting on, instantly snatching the undoctored one for herself and giving him an innocent smile. "I hope you like it," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Quatre once again tried to smile, but it came off as awkward as the first one had, and the one prior to it. He had been smiling like that all night. Well, she wouldn't have to worry about it in about thirty seconds. He took the glass from the table, then carefully sipped from it.
Dorothy watched him intently. //Just a few seconds and he'll be mine...before he even knows it!// "Well?"
"Um...it's good?"
She beamed. //Now all I have to do is wait.// "Do you like my painting there?" she asked, indicating the surreal painting she had bought just last week. It was dizzying, which was the point, and sometimes, it made people pass out. It was so amusing!
He looked. "Oh, yeah...it's sort of...well, what is it?"
"Oh, you can't tell?"
"Um, no, wait, I know..."
She grinned. No he didn't, and he wouldn't be able to guess either. "What is it, then?"
"Um...a...drowning cat?"
She laughed and he blushed. Oh yes, she was going to enjoy being married to him. "No, silly."
Suddenly, he looked a little less wary and he wobbled. "Oh, that's strange...is the room...moving...?"
"Now what gives you that idea?" she asked, snidely. //Three, two. one.//
THUD. He was out cold, just like that. He had fainted, thanks to the sedative, but that was only half of what the pills did, actually. It would take only a few more moments for the rest to kick in.
It did, and she grinned, then grabbed his legs and pulled him up into a lying position, adjusting her own position. "Well, well, the Winner heir has more to be proud of than he lets on. Ah well. Don't worry, Quatre. This won't hurt at all...well, it will later, when you realize 'what you'll have done.'"
**** **** ~
June 24, AC 198--11:13am...
"WHAT? But I don't remember--!"
"I hate you!" Dorothy shouted into his ear. "You lying bastard!"
He had to hold the phone back to keep from going deaf. He just didn't want to believe it! He looked down at the caller ID again. It read: LEVITICAN GENERAL HOSPITAL. //This can't be happening...this can't be happening...why would I hurt her?// "Dorothy, calm down, PLEASE. Now, what are you trying to accuse me of? I don't understand why you're so angry!"
"HAVEN'T YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME?!" she shrieked in his ear, hysterically. "I'm PREGNANT! I'll SUE you for all you have, Quatre Raberba Winner! You raped me and now I'm pregnant with YOUR child, and I HATE YOU!"
He gasped, falling out of his chair. His assistant looked at him as he lay on the floor, the phone clutched in his fist. //No...nonononono...// He stared up at the ceiling, not believing his ears. He hadn't seen Dorothy since she had dragged him out on a date a few months ago, and he KNEW that he hadn't hurt her in any way! He had just sort of sat there with her for a few minutes, then...
Then what? Why couldn't he remember? He remembered getting there, sitting with her, and driving back, but there was a big blank spot...
"H-how do you know it's mine?" he asked, weakly.
"They ran a DNA test and told me YOU'RE the father, you asshole!" she shouted. "Besides, I've never slept with another man, and I wouldn't have slept with YOU had you not forced yourself on me!" She was crying now, and his mind was immediately ripped back to the subject at hand.
Whatever the case, she was pregnant, and it was his fault. Why couldn't he remember?
"You've ruined my life, and I hope you're proud..."
"I want the test results," he said, suddenly.
She gasped. "You ARE a bastard, aren't you?!"
No, he wasn't. He just wanted SOME way to prove that he was innocent, or guilty. He couldn't just take her word for it! He didn't want to believe it! "Have the hospital fax them to me, Dorothy." He looked at his assistant, who was still staring. "Lawrence, please, go tell Jenny to be ready for a fax."
The young man adjusted his huge glasses, then bowed. "Yes, Mr. Winner." He turned to hurry away.
He put a hand over the receiver. "And get Duo on line two. I need to talk to him."
"Umm, right away, sir." He disappeared into the hall.
She was still bawling, and his conscience was beating him into a stupor.
"Dorothy--"
"The results are being faxed, and I hope you're satisfied..." she hissed. "And to think I...I loved you..."
He fisted a handful of his hair. //No, please, tell me they messed up...tell me it's a mistake, tell me ANYTHING but don't let it be true!// "Dorothy, are you sure it was--?"
"I told you I've never been with another man! If I didn't care for you so much, I'd really hate you..."
He sighed as it finally sunk in, and he hit his head back against his desk. "What can I do to make this better?" he asked, desperately. He didn't want to deal with a lawsuit, but he didn't want her to have to suffer through whatever he had done to her alone. If he had really raped her, he owed it to her to take care of her, AND the baby.
"There IS no making it better, Quatre..."
"But there has to be..." he bit his lip again, then sighed, "If...if I come down there and get a direct genetic test...and...it comes out positive...I'll..." He really didn't want to do this, but he had no choice. "I'll take full responsibility for you AND the child."
She suddenly stopped. "You...you will?"
"Yes, I will. I'll...if you'll take me, I'll even marry you, to help you retain a little honor after what I've done..."
She sniffled. "I don't know if I trust you anymore."
He sighed, then hit his head against the desk again, jarring his vision. //Stupid, stupid, stupid...//
Suddenly, the door opened and both Lawrence and Jenny, his secretary, came rushing in, looking worried. The pink-clad girl ran up and handed him a sheet of paper, her hands shaking, and Lawrence motioned to the phone.
He steeled himself, then looked at the paper and stiffened as his eyes filled with tears. There was no doubt about it...he had done it, and he was going to be a father before the new year came about.
**** ****
December 25, AC 198--7:52pm...
Quatre sat perfectly still in the waiting room, accompanied by two of his closest friends. It had been hours since he had heard anything, and he was dreading the moment that Dorothy gave birth. He was terrified, and for the last six months, he had been praying that the child would be born with black hair or brown eyes so he could escape this, but he knew it was foolish. He was paying for a mistake with his freedom, and though he had often dreamt of having children, he had NEVER considered having Dorothy Catalonia as his wife, OR having an illegitimate son or daughter with her. He had always wanted to have the perfect life...with the perfect person...but not her, and not under these circumstances.
And the part that made it worse...Trowa hadn't spoken to him since he'd found out. He had packed his things, rented his apartment out and gone back to the circus a week later, and Quatre hadn't been able to so much as get a letter to him. He had even tried calling Catherine, his sister, but the one time he had gotten a hold of her, she had said in a sad tone that Trowa didn't want to be bothered and that she was sorry.
That had crushed him. He had always thought that Trowa didn't care about him, though he had always loved him in secret, but hearing that had told him that Trowa might have cared, and that he felt betrayed. In a way, Quatre knew he HAD betrayed him by putting himself in this position, but still...he had wanted to see him one more time before he was doomed for the rest of his life.
He had already married Dorothy, but there had been no big ceremony. He had signed a paper in the presence of a judge and a witness--Heero had been the witness, because Duo would've done something stupid to embarrass him--and that was all. Now, all he was waiting for was his mistake to arrive in the world.
He burst into tears again for the fifth time in twenty minutes, falling out of his chair again and hitting the floor on front of Heero and Duo, the latter of the two whom immediately took him into his arms to cradle him. He felt so utterly lost and dirty for what he'd done, and there was no way he could take it back--ever. He had spent months wanting to make it all go away, but it wouldn't, and within the hour he would be a father.
"Come on, Q..." Duo whispered to him, lifting him back into his chair. He knelt in front of him and took his hands, holding them in his own. "Try to look on the bright side...you always wanted kids, right?"
"With TROWA, and ADOPTED ones!" he bawled.
The perfect soldier frowned at Duo, who blushed. "Uh...man, I know there's something I can say to make this better...I just don't know what it is!"
"Fatherhood is a sacred thing, Quatre," Heero said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Certainly, Dorothy isn't the ideal wife or mother, but you never know what the future might offer you, and who knows, you might just find it in your heart to love this child. I want you to remember when you hold that baby that you'll be holding a little part of yourself in your arms, a newborn being that will depend wholly on your guidance and care to survive, and your example to shape itself into a working member of our species. It's not just something that happens to an unfortunate man every ten seconds...it's a blessing, and you should try to see it that way."
Quatre blinked, his grief having been dulled slightly. "That was beautiful, Heero."
"Thank you, I try."
Duo was gawking with a grin on his face, but he didn't comment. He looked up at Quatre. "You better now? No more crying?"
He sighed. "I'm not sure...maybe."
"Let us hope so. I didn't come all this way to watch a grown man cry."
His heart jumped into his throat and he looked up, his eyes filling with tears again, but for a different reason. "TROWA?!"
It was the brunette acrobat, all right. It was really Trowa.
Quatre thoughtlessly leapt at him, crushing him in a hug and crying into his chest. "It's really you...you really came...oh God, I was so scared you wouldn't..."
Trowa chuckled, weakly. "I might be here as a long-term resident if you keep squeezing...I need to breathe, Quatre..."
He blinked, then let go, blushing and teary-eyed. "I'm sorry..." he said. "I didn't mean to...oh, I'm just so glad to see you...it feels like it's been forever, and I just--"
Suddenly, the infirmary doors opened and a pretty young nurse peeked out. "Mr. Winner, sir?"
He jumped, then spun and looked at her. "YES???"
She blinked in response. "Um...I, uh, came to tell you that you're the father of a beautiful baby girl..."
"A g-girl?"
"Yes, and your wife would like to see you..."
"WIFE?" Trowa asked, a stunned look crossing his narrow countenance.
Quatre frowned, then turned to look at him, but the expression that replaced the shock hurt too much to look at. It was just like the look he'd given him that day when he'd found, out before he'd started making plans to leave for the circus...a look of betrayal and disbelief. "Trowa..."
"Mr. Winner?"
The green-eyed boy shook his head. "Go see your daughter, Quatre."
"Will you be here when I get back?" he asked, flatly.
Trowa sighed. "We'll see. Go see your daughter."
With a sigh, the blonde turned and followed the nurse into the maternity ward, his mind reeling. He didn't know WHAT to think anymore. He couldn't be happy without Trowa, but he couldn't just ditch Dorothy...maybe he could send her child support--a LOT of child support!--and set her up in one of his mansions...would that work?
He paused as he thought of his father. HE'D never been around either. No, that wouldn't do. He had to stay with her...but...he didn't want to. //Well, you got yourself into it, Quatre Raberba Winner,// his mind spat. //So you can deal with it. It was your OWN fault this happened.//
It was true. He sighed, then paused as the nurse suddenly stopped and opened a door, walking into a room behind a glass window. He followed her, still silent but curious. This was the nursery, he could tell, because of all the little glass beds with pink and blue squirming blankets on them. There was a soft whining, but the babies had stopped crying, for some reason.
She raised a finger to her lips. "Shhh, stay here. I'll get her." She stepped carefully down an aisle in between a bunch of the little beds, peeking here and there at clipboards on the ends of them, then stopped about halfway and reached into one of them, scooping up a little pink bundle and cradling it. She hastily returned, then smiled up at him. "Have you ever held a baby?"
Quatre shook his head. He suddenly felt like a five-year-old, standing there in front of her. Honestly, he'd never even SEEN a live infant, let alone touched one. He'd seen a mature baby on a movie once, but other than that, he was clueless! That was the trouble with being the youngest in a family...you had no idea about babies! "N-no..."
The nurse sighed, smiling more warmly, then offered him the little pink blanket. "Here, take her." She set her his arms, then adjusted his arms, setting her head in the crook of his right arm and placing his left arm under her little body. "There, support her head and be careful, she's only a few minutes old."
He stared for a moment at the tiny baby, and she stared back. She had a good amount of hair on her, and it was all in waves, like his own had been when he was a baby, but she was so little...he couldn't get over it! She weighed practically nothing, and she wasn't even crying, just staring up at him with her deep blue eyes.
It was impossible to grasp how he felt at that moment. As Heero had said, this little girl was a part of him, HIS child, a little being dependent on his guidance, and she was so fragile. He wanted to protect her, to make sure that no one ever hurt her, and he sure as hell didn't want to hand her back to the nurse. "She's beautiful," he said at last, shifting her weight wholly onto his right arm and tapping a finger at her nose. She immediately grabbed his fingertip, then looked at it, cooing, and he smiled.
"What's her name?" the nurse asked, smiling warmly.
He paused. He hadn't really thought of that. "Hmm..."
Suddenly, the nursery door opened and he looked up, then blinked as a familiar young man entered, looking sober and stoic as usual, but more so. He approached and looked down at the blonde young man, then at his daughter.
The nurse jumped. "Sir, I'm afraid you can't--!"
"No, no, it's okay," Quatre said. He looked back at Trowa for a moment, then offered him the little girl, but he shook his head.
"No," the green-eyed youth said, finally. He looked down at her a moment, and she stared back, looking entranced. He offered her his finger and she took it, then stuck it in her mouth and began to suck on it. The slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was short-lived, and he soon took his hand back and patted Quatre on his shoulder, then turned for the door.
"Trowa?"
"It was nice seeing you again, Quatre." With that, he walked out and passed the window, taking a cell phone from his pocket on the way. Before the sound-proof door closed, he briefly heard a small bit of what he was saying. "Hi, Catherine. Tell the troupe I'll be back shortly. Yeah, well you thought wrong..."
Quatre sighed sadly, then looked back at the beautiful child in his arms, who began to cry and squirm the moment Trowa was out of sight. //I know how you feel, little one,// he thought. He sighed, then suddenly, a somber smile crossed his lips. "Katherine."
"Catherine?"
"With a K," he said, holding the baby close and offering her his finger, which she brought into her mouth instantly. He smiled, then looked at the window again, where another couple was cooing over their child. "Her name is Katherine Winner. She'll be my little Katie."
****
End of Prologue: To Be Continued
[\\Flashback\\]
//thoughts//
EMPHASIS
*MORE EMPHASIS*
~ Switching POV to someone else
**time elapsed (hours, days)**
**** more time elapsed (months) ****
****
My Little Katie
By Xandra
Prologue
****
March 10, AC 198--8:49pm...
"Dorothy, I don't know if I should--"
"Oh, come on, Quatre. It isn't going to hurt you to come inside for a minute, is it?"
He sighed. Well, she had asked him out, and he had no choice but to be courteous and spend just a little more time with her. Certainly, he didn't exactly like Dorothy like that, but he didn't hate her either, and he hated seeing a woman cry, or making one feel bad, so he was obliging her with a date. Now that they were back to her penthouse, Quatre had been more than ready to drop her off and go home, but she had insisted he come in for a while, because it was cold, which was true. What was the harm of humoring her JUST a bit more? With a shake of his head, he allowed her to cart him inside by his arm. "All right," he sighed. "I'll stay for a little bit, but I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, so I can't be too long, okay?"
She nodded, beaming up at him, and he smiled despite himself. As long as he didn't hurt anyone, he was okay with whatever went on.
He allowed himself to be sat on a large, overstuffed couch in her overdone living room. The couch was eggplant purple with black pillows, and the carpet was bright cerulean, with lava lamps of all colors decorating the corners, and strangely shapes chairs here and there. Well, she was odd, but at least she was expressive! He stared around at all of the odd colors decorating the inner side of the penthouse as she milled about here and there, busying herself with something. //Wow, I'm getting dizzy!// he thought as his eyes fell across a surreal painting on the wall across from him. He went cross-eyed. "Um..." he said, trying to straighten his vision. "I, uh...like your house, Dorothy. Very...creative."
"Thank you!" she called out to him. She was in the kitchen, he assumed, though he wasn't sure. Would she tile another room of her house without a good reason? It was possible with her taste! Why on earth did she like him if she loved things to be showy and extravagant? He was dull compared to just her living room! "I decorated it myself! I always liked colors."
//Maybe my shirt is what got her,// he thought, wryly. For once, he wasn't wearing a pink shirt, NOW anyway. She had insisted they go to a movie, so he had done his best to be informal, but that hadn't really worked, so he had been forced to ask Duo for dressing tips. That had ended in a disaster, and Heero had been forced to redress him. Three hours at their house had not been his ideal afternoon! Now he was dressed in well-fitting jeans and an unbuttoned dress-shirt with a tank top under it, and that was about as close as he had come to acceptable.
What was she doing in there anyway?
~
Dorothy smirked as she watched him from her kitchen. He was so cute...and soon he'd belong to her. She had been planning this for a long time, working it out carefully so her plan couldn't fail. She knew him well enough to know that it couldn't fail. Quatre was a man bound by honor, unlike most of the pigs that called themselves men nowadays, and that meant that any mistake he made--or THOUGHT he made--he had to compensate for instantly or risk eternal damnation in his own mind. She knew this well, and she was going to use it against him.
She checked the test results, then nodded. It had to be tonight, or it wouldn't work, and she might only have this one chance if she messed up. Drugging him, after all, would only work so many times before he realized something. That was why she had to do it right the first time.
"Are you thirsty, Quatre?" she called to him, innocently.
"Um...not really, but..."
"Oh, but I just made some lemonade for you..."
"Oh...well...I guess I'm thirsty, then...okay, sure."
She smirked to herself. His kindness would be her godsend and his condemnation. With a smile, she hastily pulled a little bottle from her pocket and inspected it, then picked up the glass of lemonade and popped the top, shaking a pill into her hand. She set it on the counter, then picked up her cookbook and dropped it with a thud on it, crushing it.
"Dorothy? What was that?"
She shrugged, innocently smiling as she peeked out at him. "Oops. I knocked my cookbook over. I'm so clumsy sometimes!"
He offered her an uncertain smile and looked away, and she knew why. He was uncomfortable around her, especially when they were alone, and the reason for that was as clear the blue in his eyes--he was gay. Dorothy had figured it out a long time ago, and it had been almost devastating, knowing that her chances with Quatre after that tiny mishap with the rapier after their fencing bout had gone from fifty percent to zero. However, she not only knew that he was gay, but that he was homophobic, or he was afraid to SHOW that he was gay, and afraid to admit it openly. He was a closet case!
To add insult to injury, she had easily deduced who he had his eye on, too. It was that lowlife, Trowa Barton, the one that had saved his life and her own on Libra before it had gone up. That didn't matter, though--as far as she was concerned, all was fair in love and war, and if Quatre wasn't going to confess to that creep, he was open game. Besides, it wasn't like Barton had made any moves himself, even though it was OBVIOUS he was gay too. This was why she was getting to Quatre now--she didn't want to give him the chance to tell the clown how he felt, or else she'd never get what she wanted from him.
She brushed the powdered pill into the lemonade, then stirred it with a pink straw and shook a little sugar in to hide the extra flavor. She had ordered these pills especially from the scientists that had worked for her grandfather, so she knew they would come through for her. Those people were insane geniuses, all of them, and they were all on her side.
With a sigh, she brought two glasses of lemonade out and set them on the little glass table in front of the couch that Quatre was sitting on, instantly snatching the undoctored one for herself and giving him an innocent smile. "I hope you like it," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Quatre once again tried to smile, but it came off as awkward as the first one had, and the one prior to it. He had been smiling like that all night. Well, she wouldn't have to worry about it in about thirty seconds. He took the glass from the table, then carefully sipped from it.
Dorothy watched him intently. //Just a few seconds and he'll be mine...before he even knows it!// "Well?"
"Um...it's good?"
She beamed. //Now all I have to do is wait.// "Do you like my painting there?" she asked, indicating the surreal painting she had bought just last week. It was dizzying, which was the point, and sometimes, it made people pass out. It was so amusing!
He looked. "Oh, yeah...it's sort of...well, what is it?"
"Oh, you can't tell?"
"Um, no, wait, I know..."
She grinned. No he didn't, and he wouldn't be able to guess either. "What is it, then?"
"Um...a...drowning cat?"
She laughed and he blushed. Oh yes, she was going to enjoy being married to him. "No, silly."
Suddenly, he looked a little less wary and he wobbled. "Oh, that's strange...is the room...moving...?"
"Now what gives you that idea?" she asked, snidely. //Three, two. one.//
THUD. He was out cold, just like that. He had fainted, thanks to the sedative, but that was only half of what the pills did, actually. It would take only a few more moments for the rest to kick in.
It did, and she grinned, then grabbed his legs and pulled him up into a lying position, adjusting her own position. "Well, well, the Winner heir has more to be proud of than he lets on. Ah well. Don't worry, Quatre. This won't hurt at all...well, it will later, when you realize 'what you'll have done.'"
**** **** ~
June 24, AC 198--11:13am...
"WHAT? But I don't remember--!"
"I hate you!" Dorothy shouted into his ear. "You lying bastard!"
He had to hold the phone back to keep from going deaf. He just didn't want to believe it! He looked down at the caller ID again. It read: LEVITICAN GENERAL HOSPITAL. //This can't be happening...this can't be happening...why would I hurt her?// "Dorothy, calm down, PLEASE. Now, what are you trying to accuse me of? I don't understand why you're so angry!"
"HAVEN'T YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME?!" she shrieked in his ear, hysterically. "I'm PREGNANT! I'll SUE you for all you have, Quatre Raberba Winner! You raped me and now I'm pregnant with YOUR child, and I HATE YOU!"
He gasped, falling out of his chair. His assistant looked at him as he lay on the floor, the phone clutched in his fist. //No...nonononono...// He stared up at the ceiling, not believing his ears. He hadn't seen Dorothy since she had dragged him out on a date a few months ago, and he KNEW that he hadn't hurt her in any way! He had just sort of sat there with her for a few minutes, then...
Then what? Why couldn't he remember? He remembered getting there, sitting with her, and driving back, but there was a big blank spot...
"H-how do you know it's mine?" he asked, weakly.
"They ran a DNA test and told me YOU'RE the father, you asshole!" she shouted. "Besides, I've never slept with another man, and I wouldn't have slept with YOU had you not forced yourself on me!" She was crying now, and his mind was immediately ripped back to the subject at hand.
Whatever the case, she was pregnant, and it was his fault. Why couldn't he remember?
"You've ruined my life, and I hope you're proud..."
"I want the test results," he said, suddenly.
She gasped. "You ARE a bastard, aren't you?!"
No, he wasn't. He just wanted SOME way to prove that he was innocent, or guilty. He couldn't just take her word for it! He didn't want to believe it! "Have the hospital fax them to me, Dorothy." He looked at his assistant, who was still staring. "Lawrence, please, go tell Jenny to be ready for a fax."
The young man adjusted his huge glasses, then bowed. "Yes, Mr. Winner." He turned to hurry away.
He put a hand over the receiver. "And get Duo on line two. I need to talk to him."
"Umm, right away, sir." He disappeared into the hall.
She was still bawling, and his conscience was beating him into a stupor.
"Dorothy--"
"The results are being faxed, and I hope you're satisfied..." she hissed. "And to think I...I loved you..."
He fisted a handful of his hair. //No, please, tell me they messed up...tell me it's a mistake, tell me ANYTHING but don't let it be true!// "Dorothy, are you sure it was--?"
"I told you I've never been with another man! If I didn't care for you so much, I'd really hate you..."
He sighed as it finally sunk in, and he hit his head back against his desk. "What can I do to make this better?" he asked, desperately. He didn't want to deal with a lawsuit, but he didn't want her to have to suffer through whatever he had done to her alone. If he had really raped her, he owed it to her to take care of her, AND the baby.
"There IS no making it better, Quatre..."
"But there has to be..." he bit his lip again, then sighed, "If...if I come down there and get a direct genetic test...and...it comes out positive...I'll..." He really didn't want to do this, but he had no choice. "I'll take full responsibility for you AND the child."
She suddenly stopped. "You...you will?"
"Yes, I will. I'll...if you'll take me, I'll even marry you, to help you retain a little honor after what I've done..."
She sniffled. "I don't know if I trust you anymore."
He sighed, then hit his head against the desk again, jarring his vision. //Stupid, stupid, stupid...//
Suddenly, the door opened and both Lawrence and Jenny, his secretary, came rushing in, looking worried. The pink-clad girl ran up and handed him a sheet of paper, her hands shaking, and Lawrence motioned to the phone.
He steeled himself, then looked at the paper and stiffened as his eyes filled with tears. There was no doubt about it...he had done it, and he was going to be a father before the new year came about.
**** ****
December 25, AC 198--7:52pm...
Quatre sat perfectly still in the waiting room, accompanied by two of his closest friends. It had been hours since he had heard anything, and he was dreading the moment that Dorothy gave birth. He was terrified, and for the last six months, he had been praying that the child would be born with black hair or brown eyes so he could escape this, but he knew it was foolish. He was paying for a mistake with his freedom, and though he had often dreamt of having children, he had NEVER considered having Dorothy Catalonia as his wife, OR having an illegitimate son or daughter with her. He had always wanted to have the perfect life...with the perfect person...but not her, and not under these circumstances.
And the part that made it worse...Trowa hadn't spoken to him since he'd found out. He had packed his things, rented his apartment out and gone back to the circus a week later, and Quatre hadn't been able to so much as get a letter to him. He had even tried calling Catherine, his sister, but the one time he had gotten a hold of her, she had said in a sad tone that Trowa didn't want to be bothered and that she was sorry.
That had crushed him. He had always thought that Trowa didn't care about him, though he had always loved him in secret, but hearing that had told him that Trowa might have cared, and that he felt betrayed. In a way, Quatre knew he HAD betrayed him by putting himself in this position, but still...he had wanted to see him one more time before he was doomed for the rest of his life.
He had already married Dorothy, but there had been no big ceremony. He had signed a paper in the presence of a judge and a witness--Heero had been the witness, because Duo would've done something stupid to embarrass him--and that was all. Now, all he was waiting for was his mistake to arrive in the world.
He burst into tears again for the fifth time in twenty minutes, falling out of his chair again and hitting the floor on front of Heero and Duo, the latter of the two whom immediately took him into his arms to cradle him. He felt so utterly lost and dirty for what he'd done, and there was no way he could take it back--ever. He had spent months wanting to make it all go away, but it wouldn't, and within the hour he would be a father.
"Come on, Q..." Duo whispered to him, lifting him back into his chair. He knelt in front of him and took his hands, holding them in his own. "Try to look on the bright side...you always wanted kids, right?"
"With TROWA, and ADOPTED ones!" he bawled.
The perfect soldier frowned at Duo, who blushed. "Uh...man, I know there's something I can say to make this better...I just don't know what it is!"
"Fatherhood is a sacred thing, Quatre," Heero said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Certainly, Dorothy isn't the ideal wife or mother, but you never know what the future might offer you, and who knows, you might just find it in your heart to love this child. I want you to remember when you hold that baby that you'll be holding a little part of yourself in your arms, a newborn being that will depend wholly on your guidance and care to survive, and your example to shape itself into a working member of our species. It's not just something that happens to an unfortunate man every ten seconds...it's a blessing, and you should try to see it that way."
Quatre blinked, his grief having been dulled slightly. "That was beautiful, Heero."
"Thank you, I try."
Duo was gawking with a grin on his face, but he didn't comment. He looked up at Quatre. "You better now? No more crying?"
He sighed. "I'm not sure...maybe."
"Let us hope so. I didn't come all this way to watch a grown man cry."
His heart jumped into his throat and he looked up, his eyes filling with tears again, but for a different reason. "TROWA?!"
It was the brunette acrobat, all right. It was really Trowa.
Quatre thoughtlessly leapt at him, crushing him in a hug and crying into his chest. "It's really you...you really came...oh God, I was so scared you wouldn't..."
Trowa chuckled, weakly. "I might be here as a long-term resident if you keep squeezing...I need to breathe, Quatre..."
He blinked, then let go, blushing and teary-eyed. "I'm sorry..." he said. "I didn't mean to...oh, I'm just so glad to see you...it feels like it's been forever, and I just--"
Suddenly, the infirmary doors opened and a pretty young nurse peeked out. "Mr. Winner, sir?"
He jumped, then spun and looked at her. "YES???"
She blinked in response. "Um...I, uh, came to tell you that you're the father of a beautiful baby girl..."
"A g-girl?"
"Yes, and your wife would like to see you..."
"WIFE?" Trowa asked, a stunned look crossing his narrow countenance.
Quatre frowned, then turned to look at him, but the expression that replaced the shock hurt too much to look at. It was just like the look he'd given him that day when he'd found, out before he'd started making plans to leave for the circus...a look of betrayal and disbelief. "Trowa..."
"Mr. Winner?"
The green-eyed boy shook his head. "Go see your daughter, Quatre."
"Will you be here when I get back?" he asked, flatly.
Trowa sighed. "We'll see. Go see your daughter."
With a sigh, the blonde turned and followed the nurse into the maternity ward, his mind reeling. He didn't know WHAT to think anymore. He couldn't be happy without Trowa, but he couldn't just ditch Dorothy...maybe he could send her child support--a LOT of child support!--and set her up in one of his mansions...would that work?
He paused as he thought of his father. HE'D never been around either. No, that wouldn't do. He had to stay with her...but...he didn't want to. //Well, you got yourself into it, Quatre Raberba Winner,// his mind spat. //So you can deal with it. It was your OWN fault this happened.//
It was true. He sighed, then paused as the nurse suddenly stopped and opened a door, walking into a room behind a glass window. He followed her, still silent but curious. This was the nursery, he could tell, because of all the little glass beds with pink and blue squirming blankets on them. There was a soft whining, but the babies had stopped crying, for some reason.
She raised a finger to her lips. "Shhh, stay here. I'll get her." She stepped carefully down an aisle in between a bunch of the little beds, peeking here and there at clipboards on the ends of them, then stopped about halfway and reached into one of them, scooping up a little pink bundle and cradling it. She hastily returned, then smiled up at him. "Have you ever held a baby?"
Quatre shook his head. He suddenly felt like a five-year-old, standing there in front of her. Honestly, he'd never even SEEN a live infant, let alone touched one. He'd seen a mature baby on a movie once, but other than that, he was clueless! That was the trouble with being the youngest in a family...you had no idea about babies! "N-no..."
The nurse sighed, smiling more warmly, then offered him the little pink blanket. "Here, take her." She set her his arms, then adjusted his arms, setting her head in the crook of his right arm and placing his left arm under her little body. "There, support her head and be careful, she's only a few minutes old."
He stared for a moment at the tiny baby, and she stared back. She had a good amount of hair on her, and it was all in waves, like his own had been when he was a baby, but she was so little...he couldn't get over it! She weighed practically nothing, and she wasn't even crying, just staring up at him with her deep blue eyes.
It was impossible to grasp how he felt at that moment. As Heero had said, this little girl was a part of him, HIS child, a little being dependent on his guidance, and she was so fragile. He wanted to protect her, to make sure that no one ever hurt her, and he sure as hell didn't want to hand her back to the nurse. "She's beautiful," he said at last, shifting her weight wholly onto his right arm and tapping a finger at her nose. She immediately grabbed his fingertip, then looked at it, cooing, and he smiled.
"What's her name?" the nurse asked, smiling warmly.
He paused. He hadn't really thought of that. "Hmm..."
Suddenly, the nursery door opened and he looked up, then blinked as a familiar young man entered, looking sober and stoic as usual, but more so. He approached and looked down at the blonde young man, then at his daughter.
The nurse jumped. "Sir, I'm afraid you can't--!"
"No, no, it's okay," Quatre said. He looked back at Trowa for a moment, then offered him the little girl, but he shook his head.
"No," the green-eyed youth said, finally. He looked down at her a moment, and she stared back, looking entranced. He offered her his finger and she took it, then stuck it in her mouth and began to suck on it. The slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was short-lived, and he soon took his hand back and patted Quatre on his shoulder, then turned for the door.
"Trowa?"
"It was nice seeing you again, Quatre." With that, he walked out and passed the window, taking a cell phone from his pocket on the way. Before the sound-proof door closed, he briefly heard a small bit of what he was saying. "Hi, Catherine. Tell the troupe I'll be back shortly. Yeah, well you thought wrong..."
Quatre sighed sadly, then looked back at the beautiful child in his arms, who began to cry and squirm the moment Trowa was out of sight. //I know how you feel, little one,// he thought. He sighed, then suddenly, a somber smile crossed his lips. "Katherine."
"Catherine?"
"With a K," he said, holding the baby close and offering her his finger, which she brought into her mouth instantly. He smiled, then looked at the window again, where another couple was cooing over their child. "Her name is Katherine Winner. She'll be my little Katie."
****
End of Prologue: To Be Continued