k2: Here, it is! The revamped, revised version of Christmas! The first chapter all for you to read!

MK: It's got goodies galore! Longer for one.

k2: Oh, big time longer! About….twice as long I think. More detail, Quatre's empathy at work….stuff like that. And I tried to make the characters more real too.

MK: So, without further ado…!

k2: The fic is yours to read.

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Christmas

CH.1- Quatre

Rated: G

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Quatre watched the milling crowd before him from his position at the punch bowl, his cup in hand. It was a festive party and celebrated perfectly what Christmas was all about. Quatre, though, couldn't help but note how inappropriate it was for him to be there, theologically speaking. But he personally wasn't a real avid practitioner of his own faith, if one could call it his faith. He may have been born into it but as said, he wasn't a real practitioner. So it probably didn't matter much as a result. Did it?

Besides, Relena had invited a lot of people, including himself, and it was the biggest social event this year. Anybody who was anybody was here on a whim, unless they were required to be here. Like he himself. And it was flat out boring.

He hated these kind of social gatherings. But as one of the riches people on earth and the colonies, he was obligated to attend, especially with all his responsibilities as head of the Winner foundation and... well, we won't go into that right now. The point was, he was bored stiff.

"Having fun?" a happily familiar voice stated close by. Quatre turned slightly to see Wufei getting some punch, an amused smirk on his face.

"Oh, hi Wufei." Quatre said with a smile.

"Hello." The other replied politely "Have you danced yet?"

"Yeah, a couple of times." Quatre replied, glad to see Wufei in decant spirits considering his reason for being here. Though the underlying reason for that, Quatre was sure, was a certain older blond Chinese woman.

"Have you by chance seen that woman?" He asked suddenly, catching Quatre off guard and deep in thought.

"No, why?" Quatre replied immediately, knowing exactly which woman he meant. In his personal opinion, Quatre felt Wufei could have just a touch more respect for her. But then Quatre realized what he meant. He'd lost her.

"That woman we were 'assigned' to protect tonight seems to be doing the opposite of her usual tactics."

Usual tactics Quatre thought as he cocked his head slightly. He had an idea of what he meant, but was unsure exactly. After all, the incident had been a mutual affair and they tended to do that to each other quite often.

Wufei's brief amusement had turned into irritation, probably at thinking about what this could entail.

"Another words…?" Quatre asked to be safe, more or less hoping that he was wrong in his assumptions.

"She is actually avoiding Hiiro."

"Oh." Quatre kept the resigned sigh from escaping him and thought briefly upon their conversation only a few minutes ago when he'd seen her. She had seemed…reluctant of something. He had sensed underlying tones of…well, of distress for some reason. Something was upsetting her a great deal and he wasn't sure why. There were so many people he was unable to pinpoint anything that would be useful to Wufei…. "Well, I was talking to her fifteen minutes ago." Quatre replied, "She walked in that direction." And he found himself pointing out where he believed was the last place he'd seen her.

"Thank you." Wufei replied as he walked off.

Quatre smiled slightly as he watched Wufei go. Even if it was under duress, Quatre was glad to have at least one friend there, aside from Relena (who was busy playing hostess) and Hiiro. And it was nice to have him as a friend, even if Wufei had a hard time showing his appreciation for that 'friendship'. Then again...Wufei had a hard time with people in general and his reasoning were more then justified in Quatre's opinion. He understood Wufei's pain, understood the difficulty of allowing himself a release.

Turning his thoughts back to the situation involving Relena, Quatre began to wonder. Was it possible that her hidden feelings involved Hiiro in some way, thus the reason she was avoiding him? Quatre knew, though no one else knew he knew, that the only reason Wufei was hear today was because Hiiro must have asked him. And Quatre knew for a fact that Hiiro wanted to be close to Relena. He knew, even if they didn't know, how much they cared for each other and, in Relena's case, how much she loved him. Hiiro, though, was more complicated then that. Quatre remembered two years ago, back when they were fighting the war. He remembered when he and Hiiro had been captured shortly after Trowa's apparent death. When Hiiro attempted the Wing Zero Gundam. Quatre remembered the warmth he felt when he touched the unconscious boy, the warmth that went along with deep emotion. As much as Hiiro wasn't supposed to have emotion Quatre was sure able to feel it. (And of course, with as cynical as Hiiro tended to be there was no doubt that he was far from emotionless.)

Quatre began to look around the room, seeing if he could spot Relena and wondering if Wufei had found her yet. But there was no sign of her within the milling crowd, and there were to many people for him to sense out just one person.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of long blond hair of about calf length. Turning his head back, he saw her. Dorothy. Dorothy Catalonia. Her hair held in its usual black headband, appearing to be her trademark. Well, besides those eyebrows of course.

Quatre smiled to himself at the thought of those elegant monstrosities. But what really caught his eye was her attire. She wore a long form fitting white gown that delicately hugged her waist and floated down to her feet in a cascade. It had a low neck line hugging her chest with the right amount of cleavage accentuated and sleeves that looked like they were put on as an after thought (which also happened to fall off the shoulders). A choker adorned her slender neck. She had white gloves on that reached the elbows.

Quatre gasped at the sight of her, stunned by the beauty in which she appeared. Usually she wore a skirt and a blouse on occasions like this, not being one to dress up or anything. Part of him actually wanted to ask her to dance while another said run the other direction. Past experience just screamed that one out.

And then there was a very small part of him, the part he tries to hide, the part of him that he wars with at every turn ever since he first found the zero system…that part wanted to kill her very quickly. Very efficiently. And he self-consciously rubbed the area where his scar still resided.

Quatre took that moment as a sign to leave, so without further ado he walked over to the open double doors that lead to the balcony. As he exited the ballroom the frigid air hit him in a crystal calm that sent a shiver down his body. A shiver that helped him relax as the coolness helped clear his head.

Dorothy Catalonia. She was an odd woman, one Quatre found to be an enigma, so to speak. But one that he knew a little too well. He knew about her pain, why she was the way she was. He had seen it, two years ago at he end of the war. An image of a small child, crying over a tombstone, still haunted his dreams late at night when the pain of his own father's death was hitting him hard.

And that was only one of the many reasons he wanted to avoid her tonight, the other being her bad habit. A habit, whether she knew it or not, to drive him insane. Quatre, lately, had to suffer all kinds of business meetings with her. She had rebuilt her grandfathers organization from scratch, changing most of their policies and even branching off into separate categories. In fact, she had appeared to be modeling the Winner Foundation and with those changes he found himself working, more and more, with the older woman. And lately every time he saw her he felt the same urges. The ones he experienced tonight in wanting to run from her, to hide until it was safe, and the ones to kill her, though not always so quickly. It was an aggressiveness that always brought guilt to him, one that made him want to crawl under a rock and die just for thinking about. Every life was precious, that was something he firmly believed in, something he had always believed in. Something the war had strengthened in him. It was a resolve he vowed never to break, that he would never kill again. A blood oath on his fathers, and his mothers, graves.

But his mind always went numb around her and his gut clenched, tightening like a vice. He wanted to wrap his hands around her throat sometimes and squeeze until there was nothing left. But yet, that was more an underlying emotion that he couldn't get past. It's as if it was blocking something more, something important. His gut clenching wasn't out of irritation or anger, but an urge he was unable to decipher. In fact, it was almost similar to the urges he had felt for Trowa during the war.

Quatre took a calming breath and looked out over the garden, at the soft blanket of white snow that was draped over it surreptitiously. In fact, the only thing there to mar the surreality of the scene, was the couple kissing in the snow. Something that just added that much more reality to the otherwise perfect sight. Quatre hadn't noticed them at first, being to absorbed in calming his emotions, and figured they had just arrived. The snowscape around them made their shared bliss all the more romantic to the casual onlooker, but Quatre wasn't the casual onlooker and he felt surprise, then anger, flaring from that direction.

As it was the couple looked quite familiar to him. It was dark and all he could really see were silhouettes, but he managed to see the out line of a girl with a high ponytail. And it was that observation that preceded his surprise when the girl stepped back and suddenly slapped the man kissing her, turned on her heel, and ran off into the moonlit garden, the heavy long coat she wore trailing as she fled.

The man stared after her for a moment and Quatre felt uncertainty cross his thoughts. However, when he turned back towards the mansion and twin pools of Prussian blue sparkled in the moonlight, Quatre was stunned.

"Hiiro?" Quatre questioned. What is Hiiro doing out here, with another woman no less! His thoughts questioned him but he had no answer. But perhaps… perhaps this was the reason that Relena was avoiding Hiiro in the first place, that perhaps Hiiro had moved on? But…that made no sense. None in the least. Not after everything-.

A noise behind Quatre startled him out of the trance he had placed himself and, without waiting to see what it was Hiiro was to do next, turned an irritated glance at the trespasser. He was startled to find Dorothy stepping out, blocking the entrance in the process. Something, Quatre could only assume, she did on purpose. Especially since she had that look in her eye, that one that always made Quatre want to run. The one that appeared to be a predatory gleam as she approached her prey.

And Quatre's senses went haywire.

"Hello Mr. Winner." She said politely

"Uhh, hello Ms. Dorothy." He replied just as politely. He could sense the deep satisfaction that welled up within her. She knew, as well as he knew she knew, that her presence made him uncomfortable. She enjoyed toying with him and he had a hunch it was because he was the only one who ever managed to understand her, to throw her off when she was taunting. The only prey to manage an upper hand….

Yet beneath that satisfaction Quatre also found a strange sort of sadness, a deep longing that made the pit of his stomach lurch and want to reach out to her.

A feeling that only tightened his groin as she began to slowly approach him.

But not him. The balcony really. She stood next to him, looked past him, and out across the garden.

"It's a beautiful night, is it not?" She said softly, that deep longing seemingly getting deeper.

"Yes, it is." Quatre kept himself calm outwardly, and collected. It was hard to know what someone was feeling, hard to keep a specific person tuned in to catch what they were feeling. But when and where Dorothy was concerned, Quatre didn't care how strenuous it got, nor did he ever want to show any sign of the intrusions he made. That was one thing she did not know and the one thing he did not want her to know. If she knew he could sense her feelings she would close them off to him and he would never know when she was ready to pounce or throw a curve. This was the only thing that kept her from getting to far ahead of him. And the only thing that kept him from fearing her presence every time she appeared.

But what is it about her that makes me feel this way?

"I have a question."

"What?" Quatre was rather startled. The suddenness of her proclamation was stunning. He sensed nothing of what she was about, other then that deep longing. A longing Quatre wanted to erase from her mind.

"What do you think of love?" she asked in a tone that was more or less asking herself. It had been so quiet Quatre almost missed it.

"Love?" he repeated.

"Yes, love."

"I have no opinion on love." Quatre replied, "I don't understand it yet." His response wasn't altogether true; he had felt something akin to love before, or what he had thought was love. He had never felt that way about anyone before and had found himself wanting to be near him always. He had a strange sort of connection to that person that went beyond mere friendship. It was an emotion he still felt to this day. One he was sure would never die or diminish, and yet one that could never be acted upon. His life was to critical, to chaotic for one such as him to become involved and Quatre didn't want his best friend to suffer more then he already had.

"I mean, I could give someone advice," Quatre continued, "but…it's not exactly something I myself could distinguish."

And yet…and yet….

And yet it as if he were lying and not just about his feelings towards Trowa.

"Neither do I really." Dorothy murmured, "I only understand that when you really want something it's best to just go for it."

Quatre cocked his head slightly, looking at her. "What do you mean?"

"This." She swiftly turned and kissed Quatre. It was a swift movement, enough to catch him off guard, which was a pretty clear accomplishment considering his side occupation. In fact, it startled him enough to let it last long enough for her to brake the kiss. When she pulled her head away, Quatre stared at her; Unable to say a single word. She stared at him with her gray blue eyes, a soft affectionate stare that burned into Quatre and forced that same deep longing on him. Her hand rose deftly and she lightly brushed his cheek. A slow movement that sent a chill down his body, threatening to explode out from him.

And then she left.

Quatre was to stunned to do anything. To shocked to say anything. He just watched her walk off and his ears began to ring. Or at least he had thought it was ringing. But the sound grew louder and he realized with a cold fear that it was a scream coming from the direction the girl had run off to.

Quatre turned and looked out over the balcony, scanning the darkness with his eyes, sending out a feeler of empathy.

Too far. With out thinking Quatre jumped off the balcony, landing hard on the ground. Without missing a beat he got up and ran off in the direction of the scream.

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k2: So…? Is it better? And how much better is it? Will I actually get more then two or so reviews?

MK: Someone just review before she has a stroke!