Rapiers and Scimitars
By: Figgy
Part Three
"Master Quatre," Lanetta's voice called from the other side of his study's
door, "there's a young man asking for you. I told him you were on vacation
and didn't wish to be disturbed, but he won't go away! I called for Rashid,
but I thought you should be informed."
Quatre sighed as he slowly pulled off his glasses and placed them beside
a tall sheaf of papers. He rarely wore the glasses unless his eyes were
bothering him while reading. For him, vacation only meant working at home
instead of at a cluttered office. "I'll see to it, Lanni." He groaned as
he stood, wincing as his back popped. "I've been sitting too long…" He
muttered as he moved toward the door and opened it, sending the concerned
maid a reassuring smile.
The way downstairs didn't take long and soon he found himself grinning
as he spotted the figure talking to Rashid. Quatre quickened his step and
the conversation reached his ears.
"I just decided to drop by to see my ole buddy Quatre! Why is everyone
acting like I'm here to murder him?" Duo paled, "Not the greatest words
to use, I guess, but—aw, man…"
"Duo! How are you?" Quatre shook the braided man's hand, then threw an
arm around the American and led him away from the worried Maguanac. "Allah,
I'm glad to see you, Duo." The Arabian sighed, "Ever since that little
car incident they've been treating me as if anyone is about to pull out
a gun on me…"
"I heard about that. Two cars exploding in Duchess Catalonia's driveway
isn't a 'little car incident', Quatre." Duo accepted the glass of scotch
Quatre offered and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't drink."
Quatre drank a gulp from his own cup with ease, "Things change…" He frowned
at his cup, "You're not here for a friendly visit, are you, Duo?"
Duo shook his head sadly, "Une sent me. She would've sent Trowa, but she
couldn't contact him and Catherine doesn't know where he is." He lowered
his cup to the large, mahogany desk in Quatre's study. "She doesn't like
the idea of someone trying to off a Preventer officer."
"Part-time officer." Quatre corrected, "And you mean, she doesn't like
the idea of a business leader with ties that help Relena dying…" He finished
the rest of his scotch. "So, the bomb was in my car?"
"We still don't know… The ruins of both cars are too… It's impossible to
tell whether the bomb was in your car or in Dorothy's… But either way it
was placed for you, we know that much. But who placed it? Damn it, Quatre!
Anyone could be after you! Anyone! We have thousands of enemies, people
that would rejoice at our deaths! I expected some to come after me, but
you?" Duo growled, "Not you, Quatre…"
Quatre poured himself another drink, "Why should I be any different, Duo?
I killed as many people as you and Heero, maybe even more. I did destroy
those colonies." He winced, but still said it.
"Still…"
"There is no still or buts. I killed people and someone wants me dead."
He locked gazes with the American, "And I do not need a bodyguard, no matter
what Lady Une thinks. I am an officer. I can take care of myself." Quatre
muttered, "Even though no one else seems to believe it…"
"We know, Quatre, but… We're worried for you and—."
"Master Quatre, Duchess Catalonia is asking for you." Lanetta announced
with an apologetic smile. "I told her you have company, but she, well she…"
The woman sought for words and finally allowed herself an irritated snort.
Quatre smiled slightly, "I understand, Lanni. Send her in."
"That's just it, sir!" Lanetta now looked frustrated, "She says you have
to come to her!"
Duo chuckled as Quatre sighed, "She hasn't changed much, has she?"
The blond glanced back at Duo and shook his head, "Hasn't changed much?
Would the Dorothy that we knew in the past jump in front of a bullet to
save a man she barely knows?"
"No…" Duo started to follow Quatre to meet the blond vixen and whispered,
"But then again, I think she knows you very well, Quatre." He grinned,
"Or at least wants to."
"Mr. Winner, Mr. Maxwell." Dorothy acknowledged them as they came in view,
as if they were guests in her home. "Good day to you, sirs."
"Miss Dorothy, how are you?" Quatre smiled at the smirking woman.
"Hey, D! And the name's Duo, not Mr. Maxwell!"
"And my name is Dorothy, not D. Duo." Dorothy carried a small purse and
wore a large leather black coat with a black fur trim, proving that she
wasn't immune to the cold weather, and pulled out a tiny piece of paper
from her purse. "The bill for my car, Mr. Winner." She handed the slip
to him, watching as he calmly accepted it, not even blinking at the large
sum.
"I'll take care of it as soon as possible."
"Hey, he didn't set that bomb!" Duo exclaimed and the two wealthy heirs
turned to stare at him. "Well, you didn't…"
Dorothy snapped her purse shut, "I know that, Duo, however he said he'd
take care of it. I meant it only jokingly when I first accused him of owing
me a car, but he seemed to take it seriously. I'm not fool enough to refuse
his offer." She pulled her coat closer and nodded to both. "I'll be taking
my leave now. Good luck to you both."
"Wait, Miss Dorothy! Won't you stay for a drink at least?" Quatre had taken
a step forward as if to bar the woman's way of exit or escape. Duo watched
with an amused grin, waiting to see what the Duchess would do now.
"I don't wish to interrupt your friendly reunion." Her tone and expression
belied her words. She knew why Duo was here and the long, searching look
she sent him told him she wondered if he'd be able to handle the job. No
matter what she did, Duo knew the cold politician cared for Quatre. How,
he wasn't sure… Whether it was a brotherly affection or more… Or if she
merely saw Quatre as a comrade that deserved a bit of respect from her,
he just didn't know. Yet, he did know that in that look was a warning to
him. If the person or people after Quatre weren't caught before something
serious happened Dorothy would be sure to let the braided American feel
her wrath.
No matter what Heero said, Duo couldn't believe that Dorothy might be a
suspect in the case. He just couldn't… Yet… He sighed. "Don't worry, D.
I'm just here to drop off a few things and then I gotta blow. Hilde wants
me to call her." Duo pulled a large envelope from his coat pocket and handed
it to the Winner heir. "Well, it was great seeing ya, buddy boy."
"Duo—."
With a wave, the American was out the door and making his way to his car.
"I hope I didn't scare him off." Dorothy didn't seem to mind the idea very
much though and Quatre glanced at her.
"Well…" He stared at the envelope in his hand.
"Mr. Winner?"
Quatre raised his head and forced a smile, "Miss Dorothy, would you join
me for dinner?"
She hesitated, then slowly nodded. "I could make it at 7:30. A friend is
visiting me in a bit. Would that be all right, Mr. Winner?"
"That's fine."
"I'll see you then, Mr. Winner." Dorothy turned and left, ignoring the
glare Lanetta sent her way.
"Bossing everyone around like she—." The rest of the maid's comments were
unheard as Quatre walked back to his study, already opening the envelope
Duo had handed him. It contained two disks and three letters from Heero,
Une, and Trowa. Quatre sat behind his desk and opened Trowa's letter. It
was coded, but he quickly deciphered it.
Quatre,
The explosion was on the news. Attempted murder twice isn't coincidence. I've left the circus and will be arriving in two days.
Trowa
Quatre nodded; he'd expected this when Duo had told him Trowa couldn't
be found. He picked up Lady Une's note and began to frown.
The material in these disks holds information regarding the autopsy of
the man that attempted to murder you and what was uncovered in the ruins
of the two destroyed cars. This material is for you to do with as you wish,
but I advise you to keep it to yourself. Preventer Officer Maxwell and
Officer Yuy are leading the investigation for the mastermind behind these
two attempts. If you wish for more information contact them.
Une
Duo and Heero led the case? That was news to him… He glanced at the computer disks, but decided to read Heero's letter before looking through them.
Suspect everyone. Trust no one.
He hadn't even signed his name… Quatre knew the man's writing though and
sighed. Just like Heero to send him such a warning. Suspect everyone? Next,
Heero would have him watching even Lanetta and Rashid with a suspicious
eye. Maybe even Dorothy, too.
He dropped the warning onto the other two letters and turned his attention
toward the disks. He took the one labeled A-M1 and slid it into his computer
and waited for the information to come up. Quatre quickly passed the pictures
of the dead man, he was not a doctor, and began to read what the doctors
had revealed.
Four gunshots to the body, a broken neck, otherwise completely healthy…
Wait… Four gunshots? Quatre reread that statement and frowned. A bullet
had entered through the back of the man's head, lodging into the brain.
Duo, Wufei, and Heero had shot. Trowa had broken the man's neck. Who shot
the fourth bullet? Were the people after him so ruthless as to not allow
failure? Or leave someone that might be able to talk behind?
The man's name was unknown to him, but he seemed to be a big-time thief
and assassin. He worked only for big money. Quatre frowned. Well, he wouldn't
be working for any sum of money anymore.
Other than the extra gunshot, the autopsy report held nothing of interest
to him. The man could have been hired by anyone for the right amount.
Quatre moved to the second disk, A-M2, and bared his teeth in frustration.
The reports on the explosion told him pretty much exactly what Duo had
said. The destruction had made deciphering which car the bomb had been
planted near to impossible, but the bomb itself… High tech… The Preventers
had the technology, of course, but they rarely used it. Now, this might
be what they were looking for. Only a few would be able to pull the strings
to get such a piece of weaponry…
Yet, there was a black market and it was a possibility that one of the
bombs could've been sold that way… He cursed and slammed his computer shut.
This wasn't helping… Now, he just had more questions and fewer answers.
Trust no one.
Quatre shook his head and stood, glancing at the clock. Dorothy was coming
for dinner and he needed to tell Lanetta that he'd be eating in the dining
room instead of his study. He stepped out of the study, not even glancing
back at the envelope and its contents strewn across his desk.
*
"Heard you had an interesting night a few days ago." Collie announced as
Dorothy climbed out of her yellow car. The black haired, green-eyed girl
smiled at Dorothy. She uncrossed her legs and jumped down from where she'd
been sitting on the hood of her own black Jaguar.
"A tiny explosion, nothing serious." The Duchess answered, watching Collie
with feigned disinterest. "You said you wanted to talk."
"You have beautiful grounds, Dorothy. Mind showing them to me?" The two
women began walking away from the manor and across the well-cared for lawn
and hedges. "You got my letter?"
"Yes." Dorothy waited for Collie to bring up what was troubling her.
"Good. We've been… acquaintances for some time now, haven't we, Dorothy?"
Collie knew that the woman didn't like the idea of friends even though
it was obvious that that was what they were. The blond Duchess nodded her
agreement and Collie continued. "I know you and you know me and well… I'm
going to be gone for awhile, Dorothy… I told you I was in some trouble
and well…" She stopped and looked toward the sky, "I just wanted to tell
you… Bloody hell…" Collie frowned, "Dorothy, be careful, ok? I can read
the news and I know you've been spending some time with that Winner guy
and it seems as if some people are out to get him and… You've already been
shot once!"
"The point of this conversation is?"
Collie fidgeted, "Do you remember how we met, Dorothy?
She blinked at the sudden change in subject. "Yes, of course. Why?"
"We were young and being trained… I've known you since you were eight,
Dorothy, and you helped me survive. I was so scared and not sure of anything,
but you helped me. We were both spies, but otherwise completely different.
We tried to keep in touch when missions took us down our separate paths,
but we were changing. After the first war, you began to become that girl
that had protected me in the beginning and… We became friends again. I
know you don't like that word, but that is what we are."
"I remember." Dorothy spoke, her voice cold. "You were a meager little
thing and you didn't look quite like you do now."
"I needed a change…"
"You hide from even me, Collie." Dorothy emphasized the name,
but the other woman merely shrugged.
"It's time for me to go."
"Go?" Dorothy snarled, "I've told you more than I've ever told anyone and
you won't even tell me what sort of trouble you're involved in?!"
"It's not my fault you confessed your secrets to me." Collie answered solemnly
as she turned away from the Duchess. "Goodbye, Dorothy Catalonia."
She stayed silent as the woman walked away then Dorothy tossed her hair
over her shoulder. She looked down at her watch, "A bit of time left before
I have to meet Quatre." She began to walk toward her house.
Goodbye… friend.
*
Quatre paced the length of the long wooden table and glanced at the clock.
7:45. She was late. Why was she late? He frowned. She was doing this on
purpose.
"Master Quatre?"
He turned and Lanetta took a step back at the feral expression on his face.
He quickly schooled it into a calm smile, "I'm sorry, Lanni. What is it
you wish of me?" His voice was smooth and reassuring and Lanetta slowly
returned his smile.
"Sir, I need your opinion for the vintage."
He raised an eyebrow, "Well… I don't know…" Quatre knuckled his forehead,
"Idiot… Did you expect her to drink scotch?" He barked a laugh, "Knowing
her, she might!" Lanetta fidgeted nervously, her eyes darting around, and
Quatre winced. "I'm sorry, Lanni… It's just nerves. What do you think would
be best with the meal?"
She jumped, as if his voice had surprised her, then smiled sweetly. "You
have a wonderful red Zinfandel. Would that agree with you, sir?"
He nodded absently, his eyes wandering back to the clock. "7:55." He muttered
and suddenly a click of heels vibrated off the walls as a figure followed
Rashid into the room. "Miss Dorothy, you made it." Quatre's worried and
slightly angry expression faded as he walked toward her, already forgetting
about Lanetta and the wine.
"Of course, Mr. Winner. The time," she waved a hand, "a friend of mine
visited and I fear her news made me lose track of the time." Dorothy frowned
at something Quatre could not see, then smirked at him. "Right to dinner,
Mr. Winner, or a bit of conversation first?"
"I fear dinner isn't completely ready." He lied as he motioned for her
to follow him into a small room with a warm, cozy feel to it. Quatre poured
himself a drink and, when Dorothy nodded her assent, also poured her one.
She merely raised an eyebrow at the strong choice of drink before sipping
at it. He had been right. Dorothy could drink even stronger than this…
Her training had forced her to.
"Quite all right, Mr. Winner. I was hoping to talk a bit before we sat
down to eat any ways." She took another sip, then smiled as if she knew
something he did not. "Excuse me for being blunt, but has Mr. Maxwell or
Yuy come up with any solid leads?" A chuckle escaped from her lips, "I
know they have a few suspects, including myself. A devious plan. I jump
in front of the bullet meant for you and you take me in your custody as
a heroine, then my car is destroyed in another attempt for your life—nearly
killing me once again. Oh, yes. A devious plan, indeed."
Quatre's tone confided his confusion, "What do you mean, Miss Dorothy?"
"What do I mean?" She shook her head; "At times your innocence astounds
me… I know you can be a ruthless strategist and business opponent, yet
sometimes…" Dorothy shook her head again, "What I mean is that Yuy seems
to think that I'm playing the heroine so I can get close enough to finish
the job I started on Libra so many years ago."
"He can't possibly!" But Quatre was remembering the letter Heero had sent
him.
Suspect everyone. Trust no one.
"So, Mr. Maxwell's information pointed out exactly what my informants have
told me. No true leads. No leads whatsoever." Dorothy ran a finger along
the rim of her glass; "The explosion has made it impossible to know which
car held the bomb. Yet that in itself tells one something. That explosion
was very strong, yet limited to a certain range. Strange how the best of
technology seems to have been rained down on such a weapon during these
peaceful times. Unless it was made to be used to protect
that peace." Dorothy raised calm eyes toward his, "But if that's true,
then how did such a weapon land in the wrong hands? Can you answer me that,
Mr. Winner?"
"You seem to know more than most people do… More than you should, actually.
I advise you not to mention such ideas to Heero incase your suspicions
that he's investigating you are true. I do not believe you are behind any
of this, Miss Dorothy, yet… Do not get yourself involved." Quatre leaned
over and took her hand. "You're right. You've nearly died twice because
of being near me. Please, do not get yourself more involved."
She stared at his hand holding hers and raised an eyebrow. "What I do,
Mr. Winner," she slipped her hand free of his, "is my business and if it
concerns you and these attempts on your life, well you cannot keep me from
doing a bit of investigating of my own. Mayhap I wish revenge for being
caught in those attempts." She smiled predatorily, "And I already told
you, I have plans involving you. I do not wish for you to die before those
are flourishing."
He shook his head, "Miss Dorothy—."
"Sir," Lanetta called warily, "dinner is getting cold…"
Dorothy smirked as she stood and the two walked back into the dining room.
Quatre frowning as he tried to think of some way to veer Dorothy off her
sudden and dangerous decision. The meal was delicious, but he couldn't
truly pay attention to it. She was going to get herself killed! Only three
days after the second attempt on his life, an attempt that had nearly taken
her along with him, and all she seemed to care about were secret plans
and revenge. He'd never understand the woman.
"Where are all your servants?" Dorothy's voice snapped him out of his depressing
thoughts and he darted a glance around.
"Lanni!" The maid was quick in coming and he motioned to the lack of Rashid
and others. "Where is everyone?"
The petite woman blushed, "Well, I… Well, they thought it'd be wise to
give you and the lady some time alone… The servants are gone while Rashid
and the others have moved to their outside quarters, close enough to watch
for danger yet far away enough not to…uh… disturb."
Dorothy watched the woman with evident amusement. "Disturb?" She turned
amused, sardonic eyes toward Quatre. "I didn't realize you held such a
reputation to need…privacy with your female guests."
The Winner heir blushed, but whether it was from embarrassment or anger
he wasn't sure. "I have no such thing!"
"I'll get the wine, sir!" Lanetta bolted to the cellar and Quatre glared
at her retreating back. He'd have a talk with her later. Privacy?! He glowered
at his empty plate, then jerked his head up as laughter floated through
the air.
Dorothy was laughing… at him.
"Miss Dorothy." His voice held a clear warning in it, but she merely shook
her head and her lips twitched as if she'd begin that bubbling laughter
once more.
"I was just thinking, Mr. Winner, of a saying I once heard." She smiled
and nodded to herself as Lanetta reentered with an open wine bottle. She
poured them each large amounts of the red wine and Dorothy sipped it with
an appreciative look. "Wonderful." It seemed whatever saying had come to
mind she was going to keep it to herself.
Quatre slowly raised his own glass to his lips and sipped. Delicious. There
was a flavor… He licked his lips. An added tang or spice to the sweet wine.
Lanetta smiled as she watched them drink and disappeared into the kitchen
once more, leaving the bottle behind.
It didn't take long for a glass to be emptied and he poured her another
glass. "There's something familiar about the taste…" Dorothy muttered as
she sipped slowly.
Emptied. Filled. Emptied. Filled.
Quatre smiled at Dorothy, "Miss Dorothy, are you enjoying this evening?"
Dorothy blinked and stared at him, her lips curving upward. "Very much,
Mr. Winner. You have always been such an amusing and intriguing case for
me, Quatre." She stood and seemed to take a step toward him, but then turned
and walked away, shaking her head. She carried her wineglass with her and
continued to drink from it. The bottle was nearly empty now.
Quatre followed her example and stood and moved toward her. "Dorothy?"
Dorothy raised a hand to her head and he vaguely heard her whisper, "What
is happening? So familiar… God, not now… Not now."
"Not now what? Dorothy, look at me!" He was surprised to find himself yelling.
Quatre grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. "What
is it? Tell me!"
Her next move surprised him; but then again Dorothy always managed to surprise
him. She raised a hand to his face and placed one finger over his lips.
"Emotions, feelings, passions, Quatre are what ruin us humans. That is
what causes us to be placed in the same family as animals. It is why pacifism,
true pacifism can never be. We are creatures that follow our emotions even
when we know better…" She raised her head toward his, removing her finger,
and she spoke. Her lips brushed against his with each word and their breath
mingled together. "Which is why this is happening."
A kiss…
A kiss is sometimes known as the most intimate way of showing a person
you care… That you love or lust… It can tell a person a number of things…
It can be chaste or wild. It can be a battle of wills or a pure surrender
of hearts. It is a war of the heart. An imperfect kiss can ruin a relationship
before it even truly starts… A perfect kiss… Now that was the thing of
romance novels, yet every woman, cold hearted or not, somewhere deep inside
yearns for that perfect kiss. They want to feel magic as lips mold together.
And like any woman, Dorothy wanted that perfect kiss… Not the kisses she
had been trained for, she was a master of seduction and its ploys. She
could drive a man crazy, make him come to her begging on his knees, with
a single kiss. She didn't want a kiss that was that type of perfect, that
made her nerves tingle because it hit all the right spots. She wanted a
kiss that simply was one thing.
A true kiss.
A kiss that came from the heart and Quatre was all heart. All kindness
and goodwill.
Perfect.
They broke apart, both panting heavily as if they had just run for miles.
Then Dorothy smirked and pulled Quatre's head down to meet her lips once
more. Everything seemed so strange… She felt so warm… So energized.
Quatre met her lips eagerly, ignoring the tiny voice that yelled that something
wasn't right in this… it was too… animalistic.
The kisses weren't chaste. They fought for dominance with each meeting
of the lips and he could feel her hands pulling his shirt free from his
pants and her hands were sliding up his abs and he vaguely remembered what
those long nails had done to that lord… What was his name? Michael… Yes,
it was Michael. And what had she said? Oh, yes… He remembered.
Dorothy's eyes widened as Quatre grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands
away. She met his gaze and saw, for the first time, a wildness in the usually
pacifistic man. "You were right, Dorothy." He pulled her close, "I do not
allow passion to get in the way of my objective."
He released her wrists and picked up her forgotten wineglass. Quatre dipped
a finger into the red liquid and painted it across her lips before kissing
her. Dorothy pulled at his shirt and a button popped across the room. She
laughed into his mouth as she yanked harder and more buttons joined the
first. They separated and she pushed the annoying cloth off his shoulders
and it joined the buttons on the floor.
Quatre stepped back from her and stared at the blond woman. Dorothy reached
behind her and knocked the plates off the table and motioned for him. He
shook his head, again that tiny voice, then walked toward her. She had
picked up the bottle of wine and when he was close enough poured it over
his head, soaking his blond locks. He growled at her and tugged at her
blouse, quickly removing it from her. Dorothy jumped up onto the table
and kicked off her high heel shoes as she smirked at him.
"Animals, Quatre. Passion, emotions rule over common sense any day." She
spoke as she undid his belt and he kicked off his shoes.
"Not animals, Dorothy." He told her huskily as he joined her on the table,
their clothes in a pile on the floor. "More than animals."
"How's that?" She ran a finger along his chest and raised the wine-covered
finger to her mouth.
Quatre lowered his face toward her and, before he lost complete control
of himself, whispered only three words. "Animals can't love."
Self-control was finally thrown to the wind.
*
Outside a figure nodded slightly at the sounds of passion coming from the
dining room, then moved away from the door. Plans… So many plans… So much
hiding for something that could so easily be taken care of, but no! They
didn't want it to obvious! Everything had to be hidden. Everything.
The scent of alcohol was clear in the air as the figure made their way
outside. The entire house was drenched in the sweet scent of wine. Quatre
Winner had a very large collection of fine wines. The figure laughed softly
as they stepped onto the soft grass. The cold winds cut the laughter short
though and the figure turned toward the house.
No time to stand around laughing! No time! Twice now the plans had failed.
This could not! It could not! The figure winced as memories of what had
happened to those two fools that had failed came to mind. Both dead. Failure
was not acceptable… And if one failed… Well failure wasn't the only reason
for the quick deaths. No one could be left behind that could tell. But
I will not fail, the figure thought stubbornly as they raised a small box
and struck the match against the rough edge.
Fire… Such an interesting invention. So dangerous, yet so simple.
The match flew through the air, landing on the bright rug in the foyer
of the mansion. It caught quickly, the alcohol speeding the flames on.
The figure stepped back and smiled as the flames hungrily ate at the house.
They wouldn't even know the fire was there till it was upon them and then…
Then it'd be too late.
Training… It was hard to forget what one had been taught since the age
of eight. Dorothy vaguely wondered how much time had passed since… God…
How many— She smiled contentedly, not even truly tired… Neither was he
by the looks of it. Quatre was watching her stretch and purr, she blinked,
damn it she was purring like a cat!
And why wasn't he tired? She could understand herself. She was taught to
have endurance, but the innocent Winner? Yet, it was hard to think right
now… She just wanted to reach for him and— Dorothy breathed in deeply and
coughed. Smoke?
"Fire." Quatre looked to the left and stared at the flames eating at the
wall. "Fire."
Dorothy scrambled up and Quatre grabbed her arm. "It's hard to think."
He spoke through gritted teeth as if he were fighting… Fighting what? But
she knew… He was fighting the same thing she was… Desire… The strange urge
to just kiss him and continue on as if flames weren't raging around them.
"We have to get out." She answered and he nodded. They lowered their bodies
to the floor, smoke was beginning to fill the air above them, and Dorothy
followed Quatre as he led her to the kitchen. The kitchen seemed unharmed,
yet… Dorothy breathed in deeply and coughed. "Gas. The burners."
He nodded, his expression calm, yet she could see the way his shoulders
tensed. They had just run from one trap into an even worse trap. If the
fire reached the kitchen the gas would cause a large explosion… They'd
be killed instantly. Quatre grabbed her hand and ran toward the door, trying
to beat the fast flames. He slammed into the door and didn't stop. They
were halfway down the hall when an explosion rocked the building. They
were both thrown forward and beams of wood fell from the ceiling and the
flames were gaining… Blood dripped from a cut on Quatre's forehead and
he wiped the offending blood away before it could fall into his eyes.
"Come on." He helped her to her feet and they were running again. Flames…
So much flames and smoke… Dorothy coughed and heard Quatre do the same.
Too much…
Quatre released her and Dorothy nearly called out for him, but forced herself
to stay silent as he picked up a chair and threw it at a large window.
Dorothy ran to the broken window and quickly knocked the few jagged pieces
remaining in the frame out. She turned toward Quatre and he nodded.
A quick leap and Dorothy rolled through the grass, ignoring the cold winds.
Quatre soon joined her and she helped him stand. They ran a few ways back
before turning to face the fiery inferno they had just escaped from. Dorothy
glanced at Quatre and found him staring at her.
They had just escaped from a sure death trap of flames… But all her body
was telling her was to grab him.
What the hell is going on?
An alarm sounded off in the distance and people surrounded them. Someone
handed her a blanket and she noticed them offer Quatre the same. Their
clothes were cinders now, but she didn't care… She was alive, but something
was wrong… Terribly wrong…
In so much confusion, a gunshot being fired and a body being pushed into
the flames wasn't even noticed…
*
"Quatre, Dorothy." Duo nodded at them as they entered his office. He motioned
for them to sit down before his desk and Dorothy's eyes darted to the open
files laying on that cleared tabletop. "I'm glad you could both make it.
We have some information that may be helpful, Quatre." He glanced at Dorothy,
then sighed and Duo's eyes darted to the silent figure hidden in the shadows.
"It seems only one person was hurt in the flames."
Quatre winced, "Lanetta… She was missing…"
Heero stepped forward and pushed a picture toward them. "She was killed."
Duo nodded as Dorothy picked the picture up, studying the charred remains
of the maid. "She was found near the front door. Somebody pushed her into
those flames."
"And shot her, too, it would seem." Dorothy whispered, pointing to the
enlarged photo. "Seems they weren't fast enough. She was shot in the head
and then pushed into the flames."
The Arabian's eyes widened, "Why would they hurt Lanni?!"
"Quatre," Duo spoke slowly, as if he feared he'd scare the blond heir,
"the fire was quickly doused only minutes after she was shoved into the
flames. Clutched in her hand was a box of matches and the bullet… It is
the same bullet that was shot at the first assassin."
"You can't possibly be implying—."
Dorothy cut him off, "He is implying, Mr. Winner, and I believe him. It
was she who ordered the other servants to leave the house. It was she who
was in the kitchen long enough to turn the burners on. It was she who tried
to kill us." The Duchess slammed the picture down on Duo's desk and blinked
at her hand. She'd broken a nail…
"I'm glad you've brought that up, Dorothy. From what you've told me, it
was also she that brought you the wine." He picked up a tiny plastic bag
and Quatre raised an eyebrow at the herb.
"Maca…" She spoke up in an awed whisper.
Heero took the bag from Duo with a glare. "An herbal aphrodisiac that works
for both men and women. It was found in your blood when you were taken
to the hospital."
"We heard about your… appearances when leaving the fire." Duo's lips twitched
in an effort to retain his laughter. "You both spoke of feeling strange…
This is the reason why. While you two were…involved," another twitch, "she
set the fire."
"Mr. Winner, please leave." Dorothy stared at her hand, at the broken nail…
It had broken beneath the skin and thin, tiny drops of blood were appearing
on her pale white skin.
"Excuse me? Miss Dorothy—."
"Mr. Winner, leave us now. This does not concern you." She didn't look
at him, but her voice was hoarse as if forcing the words past a brick wall.
"By all the power I wield, leave!"
He blinked then slowly stood and answered coldly, "As you please, Duchess."
Quatre turned and left the room, his back stiff, and his gait proud. She
knew she'd hurt him, but… There were some things he just didn't need to
know.
"Now, this is between us, gentlemen." Dorothy leaned forward and began
to slowly speak.
Quatre leaned against the door. She had ordered him to leave. Ordered!
After last night… He cursed and ran his hands through his hair. Why should
she care? Aphrodisiacs! Why should she care at all? Lanetta… Oh, he couldn't
believe it. He couldn't. She was such a kind woman… How could she be a
murderer?
Everyone says you are such a kind man… Yet, you are a murderer.
He frowned and began walking down the hall of the Preventer building. Quatre
forced himself to think of other things. Trowa… Yes, Trowa would be coming,
arriving any day now. Maybe this very second. Trowa always seemed to know
what to do when it came to women. He handled every woman Quatre had seen
him with wonderfully. The last time he'd seen the other man was at Relena's
party. They seemed years ago… That reminded him. He really should call
Relena and see how she was doing.
Quatre nodded and found a secluded corner. He pulled out his cell phone
and began to dial the Minister's number when a voice surprised him.
"Quatre, I see I was a day late."
The blond looked up and smiled as his eyes landed on the tall, green-eyed
acrobat. "Not at all, Trowa! I was just thinking of you."
"I saw the news." The other man answered and Quatre massaged his temple.
"I slept with her, Trowa. Damn me for a fool, I shall never drink again!"
*
Duo watched as Dorothy stood and left his office. "Do you believe her,
Heero?"
The other man frowned, "Yes. She's telling the truth."
"Hmm… Do you think it will come in handy?"
"We'll see." Heero turned away and Duo sighed and shook his head.
"I suppose the conversation is closed then. You really need to work on
your people skills, Heero. I don't see what Lena sees in you at times.
You wouldn't laugh if your life depended on it." Duo shook his head again
and sat down. He jumped as a rough chuckle came from behind him. He spun
around; "I don't believe it."
Heero smirked, "Get back to work, Duo."
*
"Mr. Barton!" Dorothy exclaimed and the two men turned to stare at her.
Quatre looked over her head, as if he truly didn't see her. So, the kind
prince did have a sardonic bone in his body.
"How are you, Dorothy?" Trowa took her hand and she beamed up at him. Do
you truly think you can beat me in this game, Mr. Winner? I invented this
game!
"Quite well, perfectly well! How good it is to see you! Will you be staying
on earth for long? I do hope you accept an invitation to dine with me?"
She smiled at him and slowly slid her hand from his grasp.
"I am here for this business concerning the attempts on Quatre's life.
I fear I will not be able to accept your kind offer." He nodded at her
and gave her a small smile.
"Oh, I do understand, Trowa." Quatre's eyes narrowed as she seemed to caress
the acrobat's name. She smiled once more at Trowa, then smirked at Quatre.
"Good day, Mr. Winner." She turned and walked away, her hips swaying seductively.
"Trowa." Quatre hissed and the man turned to face him. "Where are you staying?"
He forced his voice to remain pleasant, yet Trowa blinked… I never was
good at hiding my emotions, Quatre thought bitterly.
"I haven't checked into a hotel, yet. Where are you staying, Quatre?"
"I'm staying at the Roxford. Would you mind staying there with me? The
last time we talked was at the celebration and I think we have a lot to
talk about."
"Quatre, stop it." Trowa grabbed the man's shoulder, "I know, Quatre. You've
always said we are friends, do not try to hide it from me."
The blonde's shoulders slumped, "These people… They are ruining my life."
Trowa shook his head and patted Quatre on the shoulder.
*