A CHANCE MEETING

Duo struggled through the biting October wind. He pulled the frayed collar of his threadbare jacket a little closer to his neck in the fragile hope that it would protect him from the frozen fingers of breeze that crept past the feeble barrier. His father hadn't seen the need to get him a new coat for winter. He could still fit into the one that his older, half-brother had handed down to him three years ago. There was no use in trying to explain to the old man that things wore out and, for some reason, they seemed to wear out faster when they were owned by his brother, Owen Simpson Reid Jr AKA OJ.

A particularly strong gust helped him decide to take the shorter way home. A trail wound its way through a thick copse of trees. That wooded area was the only thing standing between him and the warm house. And, even though the branches lacked leaves, they would still provide some protection from frequent gusts of wind. He quickly hopped the chain link fence and followed the well-worn path. Duo jogged along, trying to raise his body temp while hurrying home, but paused when the sound of a struggle caught his attention. He didn't recognize whom the higher-pitched voice belonged to, but OJ's nasally sneer echoed loud and clear through the solemn cathedral of the woods.

'Damn,' he thought. 'Sounds like OJ's found himself another victim.' He sighed, knowing what needed to be done, but dreading the fact that he would have to do it. He waited to see if any rescuers were going to show up. As the second voice became more panicked he made a decision. 'Doesn't sound like anyone else is going to come to the rescue. Damn! I hate doing this. Where is the white knight when I need him? Why the hell do I do this? Why should I waste my time and risk getting into trouble with Senior over somebody that I don't know?'

'Because,' his traitorous mind reminded him, 'you're better than the hypocrites that say they want to protect children then turn their backs on one that really needs them. So, stop whining and start rescuing!' He squared his shoulders and followed the sounds of the brawl.

He stepped into a hidden clearing, only to see his older half-brother trying to rip the slacks off a slight, blonde boy. The boy's pale blue shirt lay in shreds near them and a few strips of the material had been used to bind the blonde's hands. Duo knew who the young man was . . . . Quatre Raberba Winner . . . . . the richest boy in school and the youngest son to their father's employer. How dense could OJ be? Attacking the son of the man whose approval meant a job for their father?

"OJ," he shouted over the terrified mewls coming from the other boy. "Leave him alone!"

His brother whipped his bulk around and sneered at him. Duo had never seen someone truly sneer, outside of movies, and the expression made his brother look even more like a petulant, spoiled bully. The bigger boy played on the school's football team as a fullback and happened to be built like a brick outhouse. Of course it didn't help matters that he had the same amount of brains as a shithouse. He couldn't recognize anyone who didn't play sports, but Duo knew that OJ would identify the smaller boy's older brother.

"That's Zechs' younger brother, Dipshit," he said, pointing to his brother's victim. "Now I know you plan on attending Winnerton community college in two years and that you want to play on their football team. But I don't think that it's a good idea to try and rape your idol's younger, sweeter and beloved little brother, do you?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" came the nasally reply.

"Because I don't think that father would appreciate you getting him fired." Duo walked over and stepped between his brother and Quatre. "Now why don't you make like a tree and leave? I'll get things cleaned up here and then follow you home, okay?" He knew that OJ would be more than happy to beat him home, that would give him the chance to tell their father what had happened and put a spin in it that would lay the blame totally on Duo's thin shoulders.

OJ shoved Duo into his former prey and hurried off in the direction of their home. After the crashing sounds were completely gone, Duo turned and faced the poor, little rich boy. He seemed to be in shock, eyes looking past the braided boy and whole body shivering.

Duo sighed, realizing that he couldn't send the kid home without a shirt - who knows what would happen to him if he did. He shook his head and removed the dubious protection of his jacket. "Here," he said, placing the covering over the blonde's shoulders. "I think you might need this." He shivered as the cold air hit exposed skin.

Quatre blinked as the body-warmed woolen coat wrapped around him. His jacket had gotten lost in the mad dash for safety and now his favorite shirt lay in shreds by his feet. He struggled against the bonds holding his wrists together and looked at the boy who had come to his rescue. He identified him as one of the boys from a couple of his classes. The strange kid always wore the same faded black clothing and he sported his hair in a knee-length braid. Sometimes he came to school with bruises on his face or around his neck and Quatre had heard rumors that the braided one was a prostitute who would do anything to anyone for the right amount of money. He blushed at that thought.

"Th-thank you," he stammered, his mind starting to work again. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up just then."

"I know what would have happened and it's no problem." Duo freed the kid's hands, turned and started to walk away. "See ya in school tomorrow," he called over his shoulder.

"Bye!" Quatre chirped, waving at the quickly retreating back. When the braided boy was out of sight, the little blonde sighed and began to finish the walk home. He had decided impulsively to try a new route today. His older brother had always told him not to go through the woods, that there were people who hung out in the grove that would try to hurt him. But being fifteen and tenacious, he elected to find out for himself what really happened in there. He had gotten just out of sight of the school when the big ox had tried to jump him. While he was still rather naïve, he knew what the bigger boy wanted. And while that sounded so romantic in some of the books that he just absolutely loved, being rape didn't fit in with the plans that he had for the school year. And just as things started to look their worst, in walked the class rebel and he had literally saved Quatre's ass. He pulled the worn coat closer, trying to draw as much warmth from the threadbare article as possible. He stumbled out of the grove and straight into his bodyguard's arms.

"Rashid!" he shouted and hugged the man close.

"Master Quatre, where have you been?" Rashid asked, pulling the slight boy close to his chest.

"Well, I decided to explore the woods that you and Zechs said I shouldn't. I nearly got raped and was rescued by the school tramp. This is his coat. And he didn't feel like a bad person. As a matter of fact, he seemed kind of sad." Quatre knew he was speaking too quickly and probably not making much sense, but he couldn't control the torrent of words pouring from him. Even though the threat had been vanquished, adrenaline still pumped through his system. The added energy had to go somewhere.

"Have you learned your lesson?" the humongous man said, looking down at his charge.

"Yes, I think I have. Never again will I disobey what you and my big brother tell me, promise."

"Let's not make promises that we can't keep. Now, get into the car and we'll head home. Tomorrow you can return that ratty garment to its rightful owner and that will be that." Rashid guided his ward into the warm safety of the midnight blue limousine. After securing the door, he climbed into the front seat and drove back to the Winner estate.