Warnings: A bit of OOC, implied yaoi (maybe a bit more than implied), het. sex (not descriptive)
Revenge : Just Sex
Dorothy walked into the bar, her high-heels clicking against the beer-stained
floor, and sat down on a stool facing the bartender. She smiled, baring
her teeth, and ordered. "A Bloody Mary, three shots of Tequila, and a shot
of whiskey." He raised an eyebrow, but turned away to fix her order.
A man sat down beside her and she could feel his slimy eyes graze over
her body. He started at the eyebrows, but then grinned widely and leaned
forward. The scent of alcohol was clear as he breathed on her cheek. "Hey,
babe. Buy ya a drink?"
The bartender turned and set her shot of whiskey and Bloody Mary before
her and she tossed the shot down before turning on the Bloody Mary. The
three shots of Tequila were also being set out in a straight line and she
smiled coldly.
"Maybe. Why would you want to buy me a drink?" She asked after taking two
long sips from the Bloody Mary.
He scooted closer, his knee pressing against her skirt covered leg. She
still wore her business suit, minus the peach button up jacket… "Just a
bit of fun." A finger teased the cloth of her skirt and she barked a laugh,
turning to face him with cold blue-gray eyes.
"You'd have to buy me more than one drink." She smirked at his shocked
face before finishing her Bloody Mary, only to move to the Tequila. It
was hard to find a different bar each night… She couldn't have her face
memorized and risk the news finding out that the Duchess Catalonia, Romefeller's
Director and close friend to Vice Foreign Minister Darlian, was drinking.
"Bitch." He spat and Dorothy's smirk widened.
"Maybe." Was all she said and ignored the rest of his angry mutterings,
chuckling quietly as he finally got up and left. She ordered another set
of her unusual combination. She sat there, drinking, till her watch began
beeping, announcing that it was eleven P.M. She slowly stood and dropped
her money on the counter and walked out of the dingy establishment.
She had an appointment. Dorothy climbed into a Taxi and directed it to
a large mansion at the edge of the colony. As the car drove through the
colony, Dorothy's mind wandered.
Four years… For four years she and he had been married. It had been one
of the greatest moments of her life and the numerous news' stations. Their
wedding… They had loved the story. War-crazy bitch healed by pacifist Arabian
prince. She had married him and they'd been happy. She had finally began
seeing life in a different light. Oh, she'd still been a politician, but
completely devoted to Relena's ideals and his ideals… Four fucking years
and for two of those years he'd been cheating on her with the clown.
She'd been loyal to him, damn it! She'd finally settled down and he'd betrayed
her! She had trusted them both and they had done this… She was a joke,
even after six months, she was still a joke among other politicians. For
two years he had been going behind her back with Trowa.
Trowa… It had hurt so much more when she'd realized he was Quatre's lover.
She'd told him things she'd never told even Quatre. She'd trusted him.
He had been her closest thing to a best friend and it had all been a lie.
They couldn't even tell her, they just betrayed her when she was gone or
when Quatre was supposedly on a business meeting. No, she'd had to find
out when she'd come home early from a meeting on Earth… To find them in
THEIR bed. Her and Quatre's bed…
She should've seen the signs, but she was a master at pretending everything
was okay. Her grandfather had taught her how to pretend…
They had tried to explain. Tried explaining that it wasn't just sex that
they were in love. Tried telling her they hadn't wanted to hurt her.
Hurt her? Oh, she wasn't hurt. Of course not. She was Dorothy Catalonia.
Dorothy didn't get hurt, she got even.
But damn it, she'd loved him! Tried to become the sweet, kind princess
he wanted so badly!
The car came to a stop and Dorothy paid the driver before punching in the
security code for the large, iron gates. Tsk-tsk, Quatre. You didn't even
change the code. The gates swung open and she stepped through and began
the winding walk toward the white mansion. They saw her, of course. The
Magaunacs. But none stopped her. They knew she'd tried for Quatre… They
would still die for him, but they didn't agree with what he'd done to her.
And any ways, Quatre wasn't home.
Dorothy knocked on the door and waited patiently for it to open. She had
been correct when she'd thought he'd open it. He wasn't like Quatre. He
didn't like other people doing what he himself could do. So, he opened
the door and came face to face with her.
She smiled up at Trowa, stepping inside, and ignored his raised eyebrows.
Dorothy eyed him as she closed the door behind her. Quatre wasn't home.
So much like the Arabian. He was something of a workaholic, sad yet true.
"Dorothy, what are you doing here?" Trowa followed her as she walked into
the sitting room. She'd decorated this room. How sweet, they hadn't changed
a thing. "You've been drinking."
"A little." She answered with a slight purr, turning to face him.
He blinked at the sultry tone of voice, not understanding what she wanted…
But she knew he wouldn't kick her out. He felt guilty. Human emotions were
such fickle things.
"How have you been, Trowa?" She stepped toward him, her eyes blazing with
animal intensity, and Dorothy grinned as he stood his ground.
There'd been a reason Trowa had been her closest friend. They were a lot
alike in some ways… So, she knew… Quatre was so sweet and gentle in bed.
He used to hold her like she was made of porcelain and she was positive
he did the same with Trowa, but at times… At times, one doesn't want to
be treated like a fragile doll. She was like that.
And Trowa was like that.
She raised a hand to his face and lightly grazed it with one long nail.
"You look a bit pale. Been staying in a lot recently? Quatre is such a
busy, busy boy." A truth. Quatre had always stayed out for hours when they'd
been married.
He jerked, his green eyes starting to widen. So, she'd surprised him. A
long time ago, she'd have laughed with joy at the prospect of surprising
the stoic Trowa Barton… A time when she'd trusted him, but now… Now, she
just smirked and stepped closer. "Guess Quatre's taming the wild animal.
And here I thought you were the lion-tamer."
Dorothy uncoiled like a spring as she attacked. Pressing her lips against
his, nipping on his own lips with her teeth, wrapping her arms around his
neck while she ran a hand through his hair. He stiffened and his hands
moved up to push her away. She didn't need to be pushed. She was already
stepping back, her hair wild and her face flushed.
"Seems I was right. He's built your cage well." Dorothy moved to step around
him when his hand closed tightly around her arm and she tilted her head
at him.
"You've been drinking." He spoke softly and she laughed.
"I didn't do this because I'm drunk. Does he drink before he comes to you,
Trowa? He did sometimes when I was with him. He'll always treat you like
he does now. You'll always be this fragile doll to him. He'll mold you
into that image, too. Poor Trowa. You used to be such a beautiful, savage
creature."
"Humans aren't savage."
"You were wild, Trowa. Like a lion or wolf… You were free. Maybe I should
thank Quatre. He was changing me into a harmless canary." She reached up
with her free hand and patted his face with a sad smile. "Be happy for
as long as you can, Trowa."
He released her and she began walking toward the door, counting in her
head. 5-4-3- "Dorothy, wait."
She turned around and stared at him patiently, but her eyes were bright
and her chest heaved beneath the thin, silk blouse. "Trowa?"
He shook his head and turned away, but she walked toward him again and
placed a hand on his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin. He tensed
and spun around, grabbing her wrist in a tight grip. She smiled up at him;
"Maybe there's an animal inside you still." Dorothy leaned forward and
pulled his head down with her other hand.
Dominant against dominant was always so much more interesting than being
with one who always went along meekly.
He released her wrist and Dorothy attacked his clothes with a low growl.
Quatre couldn't give him this. Quatre would always be so gentle. Dorothy
wasn't gentle. This was primitive and wild as clothes littered the ground
and they made their way to the bed.
She watched him as he entered her, sweat beading both their bodies as the
sheets tangled around them. He wasn't gentle and there was a sense of relief
in him as he plunged into her over and over. Her nails sank into his shoulders
and tore long gashes down his back. She climaxed with him, but as he rested
on her, his body nearly crushing her smaller one, Dorothy merely smirked.
A gasp sounded from the door and Trowa tensed and was already on his feet
as Dorothy calmly met Quatre's gaze. She slowly raised from the bed and
picked up her bra from where it sat beside Trowa's shirt. The rest of her
clothes were in the hall. Poor Trowa looked positively dreadful… Poor dear,
he didn't know that today was September 12th. Quatre always came home at
12:00 on this night… He always had to do taxes tonight and she remembered
him dragging into the house, his eyes lighting up as he spotted her waiting
for him. Every Sept. 12th. Too bad Trowa didn't know this.
"Dorothy…" Quatre's voice shook as he stared at her, his blue eyes so wide.
"Why?"
As she walked past him, Dorothy met his eyes with her own and smiled as
he backed away, seeing the amusement so clear in her features. "Don't worry,
Quatre dear, it was just sex."
Neither tried to stop her as she dressed and left, calling for a Taxi with
her cell phone. Once inside another of the cars, Dorothy leaned against
the seat and stared outside the window. She knew she'd left chaos behind
her. Maybe their relationship would survive, maybe not…
She had gotten her revenge.
Everything was perfect now.
After all… She was a master at pretending… Even when she wanted to scream.