Running the Place
By Baka Daz
Disclaimer: I don't own Quatre, or any GW characters, the belong to Bandai inc., Sunrise, and Sotsu agency.
A/N:This story was originally meant to be funny, but I made some parts a little dramatic. But it does get funny...or what my friends consider as funny...I started it this way, because I wanted to show Quatre's relationship with these people. Plus, it introduces some original characters I made up quickly to work for him -- and I mean *quickly*
The bucket of soapy water was, no doubt rather warm. She felt it when she put the washcloth in. The warmth on her hands felt good, but she knew she couldn't just stand there all day. Pulling her hand out of the bucket, and wiping the water on her hand off on her clothes, she reached down and picked the bucket up.
The bucket was sort of heavy, as she carried it with her body leaning down towards its weight. She reached the big windows that she was supposed to wash. The huge windows that you could open and step outside, but you couldn't go too far, because the little ledge wasn't nearly enough to keep you from falling down the 3 stories. She reached her hand in the bucket and pulled out the cloth, and used her other hand to help ring it out a little. She turned to the window and was ready to wash it when she saw someone on the other side.
She was startled at the body of someone, and then noticed the face. She sighed and looked at the person on the other side of the window. "Master Quatre..."
Quatre grinned and waved at her from outside of the window. He knew the big window was real good at separating sound, and he didn't really want to yell to her through it, but she didn't have a problem yelling to him.
"Master Quatre!" she yelled through the window. "What are you doing out there?"
Quatre reached by his side and pulled up his own bucket of soapy water. He smirked at her and pointed the glass. Then, he sat his bucket down and nodded his head.
She shook her head. "That's my job! An employer isn't supposed to do his employee's job!" She didn't want to yell to him through the window and went to open the window. Whether, she forgot about the small ledge, or it slipped her mind that you had to push the window to open it, Quatre got pushed off the edge as she opened it, and he grabbed for the bottom of it before he fell. But that didn't help his bucket of water, which fell to the ground.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" she yelled as she went to close the window. Quatre climbed back over the edge and onto the platform. He made a motion for her to step back, and he went as far over as he could where he could open it and come through so that now they were on the same side of the window.
Quatre closed the window behind him and gave her a funny look. "Next time warn me before you do that," he joked. That didn't make the girl feel happy though. "I'm sorry, Master Quatre," she whispered. Quatre smiled. "Don't be, I was in a war, remember? I'm sure falling is a lot better than getting stabbed, shot at, knocked over..." he trailed off as she giggled a bit.
"What do you think you were doing anyways?" she asked him when she remembered what he had been doing. "My job is to help keep this place clean, that's not your job."
"Just thought I'd help..."
She shook her head at him. "You were just trying to get out of sitting on your butt all day reading papers and signing them. I know. But if you want to help, why don't you try something not as life risking. Eh?"
He smiled at her. "Yeah," he replied. "But I think I've been holding this off for far too long. I'll go work now..."
"Wait, Mast Quatre," the girl said suddenly.
"Cheryl?"
"It's Claire...she's...well, I'm not supposed to tell you but she's pregnant..."
"Oh," Quatre replied cheerfully. "I didn't even know she was married."
Cheryl frowned. "She isn't."
"Oh, dating?"
Cheryl's frown deepened and she shook her head.
"...I'll go talk to her," Quatre said as he walked off towards the kitchen.
Quatre looked into the kitchen and sighed when no one was in there. He pulled his head out and glanced over to a red head pushing a vacuum pass him. "Claire," he said as she walked by.
She stopped and looked over toward him. "Hm?"
"Can I talk to you?" he asked her.
She got a bit of fright to her, but shrugged trying to hide it. "Sure."
Quatre pointed down the hall, she knew he wanted her to go to the big living room. She started rolling her vacuum that way, since that's where she was going anyways, Quatre walking right behind her, as if marching her off.
They reached the big living room, and Quatre closed the door. He pointed to the couch and asked her to sit. Claire sat down on the couch and looked at him worriedly. He came over to her and knelt down in front of her.
"How long have you known?"
Claire frowned. Deep inside she had known that was what he was going to ask. But, she had hoped so much he wouldn't have asked.
"Who told you?"
"It doesn't matter who told me. Come on, talk to me. Tell me when."
She shrugged. "A week ago."
"How did this happen?"
She looked away. She couldn't look him in the eye -- heck, she couldn't even look him in the face. "It was a one night stand."
Quatre closed his eyes and looked down. "Have you talked to him?"
"No, haven't seen him." she couldn't tell him that she didn't even remember his name. She felt terrible enough.
Quatre looked up to her. He reached his hand up to touch her cheek, and gently turned her head to look at him. "What are you going to do?"
"I...I think I'll...take it away."
Quatre's eyes widened. "You mean an abortion?" She was quiet. Her silence told him that that was what she was thinking. Quatre shook his head vigorously. "Don't do that Claire! Life is a good thing; don't take the baby's life away. If it's money you need, I'll help. If it's rest you need...take a year! Besides, anyone who works for me knows if they're fatally injured, or pregnant, or whatever that they get to take as much time off as they need."
Claire's eyes got watery. Quatre looked at her sternly. "If you need any help...just ask me."
Tears started rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, Master Quatre." she sobbed, and without thinking, hugged him. Quatre's stern look faded and it turned into a small smile and blushed like crazy.
"Uh...Claire...*ahem*." Claire pulled away from him. "Sorry. Thanks." They gave each other a smile.
"I've got to go to work now," Quatre said as he got up. "Take a long vacation." Claire nodded and wiped her tears away. Quatre gave her another smile and left the big living room.
On his way to his office to work, Quatre peeked into the kitchen hoping there wasn't anyone in there. Luckily, there wasn't. So he snuck in, got an apple, and snuck back out. He wasn't 'allowed' to eat right before dinner, but he was hungry.
He walked pass his secretary's desk. He took a bite of his apple and looked at her. She looked back. She knew he wanted to say something, so she waited. Quatre put a finger up, signaling he's say something as soon as he finished chewing. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Any calls? More work? Good, because I've got a good amount to do now."
The secretary smiled at him. "No, you don't have any new calls, but --"
"Uh, excuse me. Quatre?"
Quatre looked over toward the over the hill and overweight woman, standing a few feet away. Quatre raised a brow. "Yes, Betty?"
Suddenly, Betty pointed at the apple. "Where'd you get that?" Her answer was a sly smile from Quatre. She sighed, but smiled back.
"Anyways...Quatre...I've been cooking for you since you were 10, right?"
Quatre nodded.
"And I've always been so kind to you and things..."
"What's the catch?"
"Oh, Master Quatre...I don't have enough food for dinner tonight. You're not mad are you?"
Quatre gave her a smile. "No, of course not. I usually don't eat that much anyways."
"But...what about your guest?"
"...What guest?"
"Your guest that's going to be staying with us today."
Quatre looked over to his secretary. "Donna, I have a guest?"
Donna bit her lip. "I didn't tell you?"
Quatre shook his head.
"Uh oh..." She thought for a moment. "Well, you see...Mr. Benford, he's a rather rich man, he was passing through the area and thought he'd stay here for a day just to see how well this colony is run."
"Oh, how kind for him to have asked me first." Quatre gave a small smile at his joke. "When will he be here?"
The loud sound of the doorbell echoed off all the walls of the mansion. "Uh...that would be him," Donna replied. Quatre cocked his head to the side and gave her a look. He took another bite of his apple and thought.
"Okay. Betty, I want you to run to the store, take someone with you, but not Claire. She's on vacation. Donna, could you make sure I have a nice stack of portfolios on my desk? And, also, tell Geoffrey that I'll get the door."
"Alright," Betty replied and walked off.
"Okay then, Master Quatre." Donna said.
Quatre reached the door and opened it. Standing as straight as he could because he wanted to make a good first impression. He opened the door to a man that was a little on the plump side. He had a little amount of black hair on his head, which almost looked like a toupee, and a bit of a moustache growing under his nose. In one hand he had a suitcase, and in the other an umbrella.
"I'm here to see Mr. Winner," the man said, rather gruffly.
"You must be Mr. Benford?"
"Yes," the man said looking at him suspiciously. "Who're you?"
Quatre grinned. "'Mr. Winner'."
Mr. Benford raised an eyebrow. "Why are you answering your own door?"
Quatre stared at him blankly.
"Well?" Mr. Benford said. "Aren't you going to let me in?"
"Oh, right!" Quatre said and stepped aside so he could come in. "Sorry. Come on in."
Mr. Benford nodded and walked in, Quatre closing the door behind him. Just then, someone came running into the room. As soon as she saw the two she stopped. "Master Quatre?"
"Cheryl?"
The black-haired girl sighed. "Master Quatre, are you going to do all of my jobs today?"
"Oh," Quatre said. "I didn't know you were going to answer the door. Usually, Geoffrey answers the door. That's why I asked Donna not to let him answer the door. I wanted to meet Mr. Benford personally."
"Oh," Cheryl said. She looked over towards the man. "Hello there, Mr. Benford." She put her hand out to shake it.
Mr. Benford raised his brow. "Are you a maid?"
Cheryl blinked. "I suppose..." she said. Then, she was surprised with what was said next.
"Aren't you going to take my coat?"
Cheryl blinked again. "Uh...sure, Mr. Benford." They stood there looking at each other for a moment. After a moment, of where Cheryl didn't come over to take his jacket off, he took it off himself and shoved it at her. Then, he gave her his umbrella. Cheryl almost gave him a glare, and would have if he weren't a guest. Instead, she made her way over to the closet, and hung his coat up.
"Well..." Quatre was a little shocked at what had just happened, but none the less..."Mr. Benford, how long will you be staying with us?"
"Most likely a day," was his answer.
Quatre nodded his head. "Well, let me take your bag...and I will lead you to your room." Quatre reached down for his suitcase in his hand, only to have him pull it out of his grasp.
"You have no one to do that for you?" Mr. Benford asked him.
Quatre blinked. "Huh? Uh...well...I'm not sure where Geoffrey is now, but..." Just then, Cheryl came back, only to have a giant suitcase in her face.
"Are you going to take me to my room, now?" Mr. Benford asked her a little irritated. She got a little irritated too, and grabbed the suitcase out of his hand. This suitcase was way heavier than that bucket of water; she almost toppled over from its weight.
"Right," she replied through gritted teeth. "Right this way, Mr. Benford." She started walking off, with Mr. Benford right behind her. Just then, Quatre took another bite of his apple in his hand, feeling pity for her going up the stairs with the weight of that thing. He stood shaking his head. Mr. Benford didn't seem very polite, but maybe he'd been having a bad day. Yes, he must have been having a bad day...
Cheryl reached the guest room and as soon as she got in dropped the suitcase on the bed. She just had to go up two flights of stairs with that thing. She crossed her arms. "Your room."
Mr. Benford looked around. "Yes...it looks rather clean. Good. Oh," he turned to look at her. "You will be bringing my coat up, right?"
Cheryl blinked confusedly. "You know where it is...in the closet by the door."
Mr. Benford gave her a strange look. "But I should have it in here."
Cheryl started to loose her temper. "You told me to put it in the closet!"
"Yes. Then I was a visitor, now I'm a guest."
Cheryl couldn't help glaring at him now. "I'll go get it," she said angrily, and marched out of his room, slamming the door behind her.
"Hm," Mr. Benford said. "How rude."
End of chapter one. It was short...but it was supposed to be. Now, the good stuff begins!