CHAPTER ONE: SECRETS
The room was stifling and everyone seemed to be drawing on their last nerve. The air was dead with the defining silence of the delegates. After a few minutes of quiet thought, someone finally spoke.
"I think that it would be bet if we were to adjourn for the night. We're getting ourselves absolutely nowhere with this useless altercation. I suggest we take tomorrow off to gather our wits and come back with a fresh start." A young auburn-haired woman across the table shook her head wearily.
"If we delay our decision any longer Mr. Winner, the soldiers may become more restless then they already are. We must come to some type of mutual conclusion if any of us plan on having a decent nights sleep ever again."
Quatre sighed. Some people simply couldn't grasp the fact that continuing on end without being cool, calm and collected was nonsensical. He was just about to give up when another young women across the room began to protest.
"Mr. Winner has a very realistic suggestion. None of us are exactly 'up to capacity'," she said, sending a irritated glance toward one of the other delegates, who was attempting miserably to keep awake, his head rocking and eyelids fluttering tiredly. "No one is able to think clearly under these conditions. If we were to make a decision now, it would most likely be just as senseless as if we weren't to make one at all. In reality, I think it would be more prudent if we wait a day then come back when we can actually plan a solution strategically. Rash actions will get us nowhere except over our heads." She smiled feebly at Quatre before sitting back down again.
Hushed murmurs flew throughout the boardroom. 'Take a break? Could we do that?!' After the whispers died down, the auburn-haired woman from before stood up, clearing her throat.
"It seems that a break would do everyone some good. Therefore, we suspend for the rest of the night and tomorrow, meeting back here at 9:00 A.M. Monday morning to continue our conference."
Cheers rang through the congregation. The peace delegates gathered their briefcases in a hurry, anxious to leave the room that had suffocated them for so long.
Quatre stood, glad to finally receive a chance to stretch his legs. The 17 year old peace delegate gazed around the room with a contented grin. He elegantly brushed a lock of his platinum-blonde hair out of his sapphire eyes. It was nearly the one year anniversary for the time of absolute peace, but the former gundam pilot still showed a few reminders of the earth and colonies bloodstained past. His figure was lean and muscular, and he had much less fatigue then many of the older delegates. There was a fire that still burned inside of him, a burning desire for peace that he had held since he had first entered the cockpit of Gundam Sandrock. His flame still flourished, unlike many of the other previous soldiers who's fires had turned to mere ashes. He still had the heart of a soldier, though his mind told him always that an indissoluble peace had finally arrived.
Bending under the massive mahogany table, he retrieved his own briefcase, spun the combination into the locks and opened it, placing his notes inside.
"Mr. Winner!" he heard someone shout from behind. "Mr. Winner! A moment before you leave please!" Quatre turned to see a young women delegate walking quickly toward him.
"Miss Beauxly . . .what can I do for you?" She shook her head, her auburn hair falling around her youthful face.
"Nothing, I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings about me disagreeing with your opinions. It's just that I simply wish to get this meeting over with as soon as possible."
"That's alright." Quatre replied. "I know the feeling of begin pressured quite well." She smiled amiably, he jade eyes twinkling.
"Then perhaps you would care to join me for lunch?" Quatre shuffled nervously.
"Actually, Miss Beauxly . . ."
"Please, call me Victoria." Quatre looked at her quizzically.
"I think I'd much rather call you Miss Beauxly. You see, I had actually planned on dining with . . ." She held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
"I understand," but the twinkle was extinguished in her eyes and was replaced with something else that Quatre could not fully place.
"Quatre!" Another girl called testily from the doorway. Quatre turned around and waved to his former comrade. Her blonde hair had been cut to the middle of her back and was now hanging loosely around her delicate shoulders. She had gotten rid of her ridiculous red-headband, but on occasion she would braid red ribbons into her hair. The color accented her natural beauty and Quatre had always thought that the color made her look gorgeous; but of course, he had never told her that. He turned back to Miss Beauxly who was desperately trying to look as if everything were fine. She was smiling, but the smile looked more devilish then friendly.
"I'm terribly sorry," Quatre said again, closing his briefcase.
"Don't worry about it," she replied, waving her hand about in front of her face and attempting to control the envy dripping from her every word.
"QUATRE!"
"I think you had better go," Miss Beauxly stated, motioning toward the figure standing impatiently in the doorway. "It looks as if your friend is getting a bit restless." Quatre nodded in agreement.
"She never has been one of patience. It was nice talking to you." She smiled again in her obscure way. Quatre's eyebrows knit together for a moment, her kindly manner setting him on edge, but then returned the smile with a short quick wave goodbye before heading for the door. The figure waiting was not pleased.
"Thanks for the support back there." Quatre said, trying to avoid the offended mood that was lurking about the figure. "I thought we were going to be attacking that problem until midnight." The girl seemed to not have heard a single word Quatre had just said, but answered him starting an entirely new conversation.
"Well it sure took you long enough." She snapped rudely as they walked briskly down the corridor. "What were the two of you talking about anyway? You and that Beauxly women?" Quatre glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He could see that she was also gazing at him with a contending look. Quatre smirked, enjoying the hope that shone so rarely in her usual frozen eyes.
"Actually, she was asking me to lunch." She sneered, disillusionment etched into every feature of her face. "You're not jealous, are you Dorothy?" Dorothy scoffed.
"Why would I be jealous of that wench? She is no interest to me whatsoever." Quatre stopped and took her by the arm, staring into her dove eyes.
"You are jealous aren't you?!" he mocked humorously. Dorothy shuffled timidly, then looked into his shinning eyes.
"I simply don't trust her. She's not good company and I don't want to see you get hurt." Quatre smiled inwardly. He let her arm go and the two continued to stroll down the hallway. Dorothy looked down at the tiled floor.
"I won't get hurt Dorothy, I was a gundam pilot remember. I think I can take care of myself." She shook her head indecisively.
"You know that's not what I meant." Quatre's smile vanished and he looked at her, his expression hard.
"My kindness has nothing to do with this Dorothy." She looked up at him, her face bland but her cheeks a bit flushed.
"I don't want to see you taken advantage of. Your kindness is a wonderful gift I assure you, but if you are not careful it will also become your curse." Quatre's jaw tightened and his voice rose slightly.
"My kindness does not make me weak, and I would much rather be kind then carry a stone, emotionless heart around my entire life like many others!"
"Quatre Raberba Winner! I never once made the accusation that you are weak or that your kindness made you so! I was simply worried that . . .that women would use it to her advantage. I understand the way her mind works and she will do everything for the glory of no one but herself!"
Quatre was shocked. Dorothy only used all three of his names when she was truly enraged. Plus she had never talked of her past roles in the war and hardly ever mentioned the state of mind she had been in during the time. Quatre looked at her apologetically.
"I'm sorry Dorothy."
"Apology accepted." she spoke softly. But Quatre could tell that both of their feelings had been bent out of shape, and they would take awhile to mend. He stared at the ground as he walked, and for the first time noticed that Dorothy was carrying a book along with her briefcase. Attempting to change the low-spirited mood, he asked
"What are you reading?" She glanced at him uneasily and quickly attempted to hide the book behind the folds of her skirt. But Quatre still possessing his swift reflexes promptly retrieved the book. He peered at the cover, then over at Dorothy inquiringly. "Transparent Hearts? What is this?" Pink spread over Dorothy's cheeks.
"It's nothing," she protested, making a grab for the book. "Please, give it back." Quatre held it up tauntingly. Her face turned a bit more red as he opened the page and began to read in a mocking tone:
"Veronica stared into Lorenzo's eyes and was washed away in the unfathomable blue. He was so masculine, she thought as her eyes ran over his every curve. How beautiful he looked, his ivory skin so soft beneath her fingertips. She could feel his hot breath on her face and neck as he slowly pulled her in closer. Their lips were now inches apart, and she yearned desperately to close the gap. 'Please,' she whispered, running her fingers down his back and through his hair. 'Please say that you'll be mine.' He slid a slender finger between their faces, caressing her lips. He made no verbal answer, but drew her in for a passionate kiss that sent her hormones racing . . ." Quatre looked at Dorothy incredulous. "Dorothy, this is a complete trash novel! Why are you spending your time reading this junk?" She quickly snatched the book from his hand and thrust it into her briefcase.
"It's only a bit of light reading. Besides, what do you care?" she snapped testily. Quatre simply shook his head as he opened the door of the restaurant.
Dorothy blushed. She would have to be more careful from now on, if she wished for her secrets to be remain enigmatic.