Warnings: This takes off a few days after Rapiers and Scimitars left off. This fic will include incredibly sappy moments between Duo & Hilde Maxwell, a bit of lemony lime, a pregnant Hilde, violence, angst, a temperamental Dorothy, and anything else my demented little mind can think up. ^_^
Clowns and Spies
Chapter Two
Midii waited calmly for her opponent to rush forward, her body relaxed
and a corner of her mouth twitched upward in a smug smile. Her blonde hair
was pulled back in a loose bun and she wore a white tank and tan pants,
the usual uniform for Preventers when drilling. Her opponent wore the same,
except her hair swung behind her in two twists. Dangerous to have one's
hair hanging down like that, Midii mentally perceived. The woman was very
good and knew her sensitive spots quite well.
Only one trained in understanding the human body inside and out would know
what this woman knew… So, she had to be a doctor or a former doctor… Maybe
a nurse.
The other woman, however, didn't rush forward. She smiled slightly and
shifted her body weight to her left leg. Midii felt a slash of impatience
as the two stood and stared at each other. Impatience was one of her many
downfalls… One of the reasons she'd never been as highly employed as Dorothy.
Impatience, too meek at times, and not always one to follow orders…
A groan escaped through clenched teeth as Midii finally twisted and released
a high kick, aiming toward the woman's head. The woman grabbed her ankle
and twisted, causing the smaller former spy to turn in midair. Midii frowned
as she was forced to turn, but didn't land. Instead she curled her body
and grabbed the woman's shoulder, hefting her body higher so she could
lift her free leg and slam it into the woman's back. Her opponent released
her ankle and Midii fell to the ground as the other woman stumbled forward.
Midii reached upward as she jumped to her feet and wrapped one hand around
an orange twist and yanked. The woman let out a slight gasp as she fell
backwards and Midii wrapped an arm around her neck, releasing the lock
of hair. Midii tightened her hold as the woman struggled to try and remove
her arm, then the former spy fell backwards as a foot swiped her own feet
out from under her. The opponent jumped out of her grasp and stood a few
feet away, watching Midii warily as the spy raised to her feet.
They eyed each other till Midii swung a fist and the woman dodged, only
to be caught by Midii's other fist in the side. The woman merely grunted
before kneeing the spy in the stomach. Midii gasped as she stumbled away,
then ran forward and sent a low kick toward the woman's abdomen. The woman
twisted out of the way and Midii landed gracefully behind her, quickly
turning and grabbed the other woman by the shoulder, only to be thrown
to the ground.
The former spy growled and rolled out of the way of the oncoming foot and
grabbed the woman's stationary ankle and pulled. The woman toppled and
Midii leapt to her feet and fell onto the woman with her elbow, trying
to catch her in the throat. The woman moved aside and Midii winced as her
elbow slammed into the floor. The woman didn't waste time, but jumped to
her feet and kicked Midii in the side.
Midii's eyes narrowed and she hooked her ankle around the woman's and jerked.
The woman fell to the floor beside her and for a second, silence filled
the room…
Then around them Preventers cheered as slowly the woman raised to her feet
and Midii to her knees. Her opponent offered a hand and smiled warmly.
"So, you're everything Dorothy said you are. I'm Sally Po."
Midii cautiously accepted the offered hand and Sally helped her to her
feet. "Midii Une. You know Dorothy?"
A gleam seemed to shine in Sally's eyes as she laughed and grinned widely,
"Around here, everyone knows the Duchess one way or the other. Especially
with the recent events."
"She won't accept protection." Someone threw them both towels and Sally
offered the spy a water bottle.
"Wouldn't accept." Sally corrected, "She finally relented. Officers Maxwell
and Yuy are heading the case, but a few specific officers under the command
of Maxwell are to be at hand incase Duchess Catalonia needs their sudden
aid."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Sally leaned over toward a small blue bag and pulled out a manila folder.
"Here." She slung the bag over one shoulder and winked, "Welcome to the
Preventers, Midii."
Trowa watched the passengers exit the shuttle from the window and ignored
the sentimental reunions around him as loved ones found loved ones. He
wasn't here to meet a longtime friend or lover… This was a job that he'd
taken against his better judgment. Taking Dorothy Catalonia into his home,
into the circus was a horrifying idea… And he would now have to deal with
it.
"Darling, you look tired. Not sleeping well?" A voice drawled behind him
in the perfect pronunciation of the British and Trowa turned around to
face a smirking Dorothy Catalonia. He eyed her new appearance then picked
up the small black bag resting beside her and began walking away.
She placed a hand on one hip and raised an eyebrow. "What? No hugs and
kisses?"
He ignored her and continued walking and Dorothy's eyes narrowed as she
began to slowly walk after him.
"You're creating a scene."
Trowa spun around and stared at her, "Cathie is waiting for us. She believes
you are an old friend."
Dorothy laughed and smiled sweetly, "You mean, she believes I'm an old
lover of yours." She stepped forward and placed a pale hand on his chest,
"I've heard that you are quite capable of blending in and playing the spy.
Shall we test our combined skills?" She bared her white teeth at him and
frowned as Trowa's expression didn't waver. He removed her hand from his
chest and turned away.
"Cathie is waiting."
The Duchess merely tilted her head and smirked, "Well, we can't keep dear
Cathie waiting." She joined the acrobat and walked alongside him, her eyes
staring straight ahead as they exited the port. People crowded around them,
somewhere a child laughed, and out of the corner of her eye she could see
a couple kissing. "Disgusting show of affection." She told Trowa casually,
waving one hand to encompass the many colonists surrounding them. "Is it
usually like this? I don't visit the colonies much." Dorothy smirked, "I
find the air doesn't agree well with me."
"Trowa!" A cheerful voice yelled and Dorothy's head jerked upward and she
smiled scornfully at the auburn haired girl that waved at them as she stood
beside a strangely bright car. "You found her!"
"Good day, I'm Lavender." Dorothy's face brightened as she smiled warmly
at the beaming woman standing before her. She offered one manicured hand
and Catherine eagerly accepted it.
"I'm Cathie. I hope you'll enjoy your time with us. Trowa tells me that
you're transferring from a rival troupe because of personal problems. We
could sure use you." Catherine released Dorothy's hand so she could open
the car's trunk for the bag Trowa carried. "What exactly do you do? Trowa
wouldn't go into details."
"It's something of a surprise." Dorothy answered readily as she reached
up and freed her hair from its tight ponytail and allowed it to hang around
her face. It didn't truly surprise her that Catherine didn't recognize
her from their brief meeting at Relena's ball. She had expected it.
"Oh? Can't wait to see it!" The three climbed into the car with Dorothy
sitting beside Catherine who was driving while Trowa sat in the back, quietly
listening to the two chatting.
"How exactly did you and my brother meet, Lavender?" Catherine asked as
she drove them through the colony, passing numerous colonists busy shopping
and living their everyday lives.
An evil gleam danced in Dorothy's eyes, "It happened so suddenly those
years ago. I was walk—."
"We met at a bar." Trowa's deep voice interrupted Dorothy and she spun
around to glare at him before replacing the expression with a small smile.
"Do you remember the next night, darling?" She purred and, was too busy
watching Cathie's lips twitch as she struggled not to laugh, to notice
Trowa's hand close tightly in a fist. "I don't believe I'll ever forget
it." One visible green eye narrowed as the car slowed to a stop before
a large circus tent.
"I hope you don't mind the sleeping arrangements." The area behind the
tents consisted of several small trailers, various animal cages, and two
smaller tents that held most of the larger props. Catherine led the way
as Trowa removed Dorothy's bag from the trunk. He stared at the small black
bag and raised one eyebrow as he shifted the objects inside. He had already
realized the bag did not contain merely clothes… Something lay folded beneath
the soft layers of clothing. The acrobat made a mental note to check Dorothy's
bag later.
The Duchess walked alongside Catherine, her eyes lazily wandering among
the surrounding area. "It's no problem, Cathie." Trowa admired the woman's
skill; she showed no surprise at the animals or performers, but acted as
if she were used to such things. She was a borne actress. His mouth tightened,
which was exactly why she could never be completely trusted.
"I'm glad. To tell you the truth I don't mind having a roomie. Trowa stayed
with me for awhile till he finally received his own residence, but it'll
be different with another female." The cheerful knife-thrower threw an
arm around Dorothy as she led the blonde to the manager's office. "I hope
you can cook, Lav." Catherine smiled warmly once more before knocking on
the trailer's door, "Manager!"
"Come in!" A voice yelled back and Catherine opened the door, motioning
Dorothy inside. "Welcome to your new home, Lav!"
The door shut behind the blonde Duchess and she faced the Manager with
a smile on her pale face.
*
Trowa placed Dorothy's bag on the sofa and stiffened as he heard his sister
walk inside. "I'm fixing some soup. Want some, Trowa?" She called from
the small kitchen and Trowa winced. His sister could cook almost anything,
but her special homemade soup tasted horrible.
"Okay, sis." He called back, his voice low and strong. He'd never hurt
her feelings and if swallowing a bowl of disgusting soup would make her
happy then he would do it. Whistling traveled from the kitchen and
soon the steady banging of pots and pans as Catherine began gathering her
materials. Trowa nodded slightly to himself and unzipped Dorothy's bag.
He pulled out a bright yellow silk bundle and unwound the material. She
had brought a change of clothes, only one complete outfit, but that didn't
interest him. It was what lay in the middle of the bundle of clothes that
made him nod thoughtfully.
It wasn't one object, but pieces of an object. He picked up one piece and
nodded again. Plastic. A gun… It would need to be assembled and it was
made completely from plastic, but he knew from experience that it would
work. It was a hard weapon to find since it could so easily slip by security,
but obviously Dorothy had the money and connections. He raised an eyebrow
as he searched for bullets. None. Only the gun lay among the clothes.
What good was a gun without bullets? He wound the clothes around the pieces,
then rewound the yellow silk, and placed it back in the black bag. He stood
and mentally went over how Dorothy had appeared to him. She had dressed
casually, he'd seen his sister wear clothes like her outfit, and a simple
necklace… A ponytail, which she'd undone… Where were the bullets?
"Find anything interesting?" Dorothy asked as she sauntered into the living
room. "The people here are quite helpful." She smirked as she zipped her
bag close, something he'd belated doing. "They cheerfully pointed out dear
Cathie's quaint home." She pushed the bag aside and sat down, crossing
her legs. "Well? Did you find anything interesting?"
"No bullets." He answered calmly; backing away so he could sit in the orange
and patched chair situated somewhat in front of the sofa.
She raised a hand to her silver necklace and ran a finger up and down its
length. "Really? Well, that is interesting." Dorothy leaned forward, "I
spoke to your wonderful manager and he's assigned me a performance with
Miss Catherine Bloom, seeing as how she's the one that handles the dangerous
objects around here." She smiled at him, a slow, lazy smile. "And of course,
she handles the knives and such, too."
"Have you spoken to Quatre?" He quietly asked, ignoring the subtle remark,
and found her reaction amusing though he wouldn't admit it outwardly. Dorothy
blinked, stood, and lifted her bag.
"Mr. Winner and I are none of your concern, clown. Where do I sleep?" He
motioned toward the sofa and Dorothy raised one elegant eyebrow, "I see
and where does the illustrious Mr. Barton rest?"
"My trailer is next door. You will either come to me or call Duo if problems
arise." He also stood and the Duchess dropped her bag back on the old sofa.
"You are to perform nothing dangerous."
The air between the two seemed to thicken as she sneered. "Oh, my. The
role of worrisome mother does suit you. If I scrape my knee will you kiss
it and make it all better?" He was silent and Dorothy smiled nastily as
she took a step closer toward the acrobat; "I find, Mr. Barton, that if
that is so," her smile widened and she lifted one hand, "I may be compelled
to," the hand rested upon his chest, "find more interesting places to fall
on."
"Soup's ready!" Catherine called and Dorothy dropped her hand and smirked
widely.
"Didn't you hear, Trowa? The soup's ready." The Duchess turned and swayed
into the kitchen. Trowa's eyes narrowed as he watched her go. Why did she
always have to act like she didn't care for Quatre? He shifted his shoulders
and a rare smile appeared on his lips, disappearing as quickly as it came.
He hoped Dorothy enjoyed his sister's lovely soup.
*
Relena rubbed her temples as she exited the courtroom. Une's trial had
finally begun and the evidence was highly condemning for the former Preventer
head. The Minister's own account of what had happened in Une's office had
been revealed today and Relena was glad to be free of the stifling court
and Une's attorney. The woman had this way of looking at someone and making
them remember every horrible thing they'd ever done. A brief memory of
stealing a pack of gum had continually replayed itself in her head as she
answered the woman's questions. She'd been four!
The Vice Foreign Minister sighed as the cameras started flashing and her
escort of guards surrounded her, shouldering their way through the throng
of paparazzi and reporters. Relena slipped a pair of sunglasses on, humming
quietly under her breath as she made her way to her limousine. She sometimes
envied Dorothy's freedom of at least driving. She had learned how to drive,
but it wasn't suitable for her position…
Of course, a few times she'd driven… In disguise… With four Preventers
following in the distance… Dorothy never had to bother with such things
and in a way, Relena felt as if the Duchess was acting ridiculous to force
them to come up with such a dangerous plan of protection. It had too many
loopholes…
A guard opened the car door and Relena climbed inside. I wonder what Heero
would do if I took Duo's offer and joined the Intelligence Division of
the Preventers. She chuckled softly. She'd never do such a thing. Her job
suited her well and she loved her work, but the picture of Heero's face
at hearing such a thing was deliciously cute. The Minister sighed and leaned
back into her seat; because of the trials and Dorothy's situation, she
and Heero hadn't spent much time together since Christmas. She sometimes
felt as if what had happened that night was all a dream, but then she'd
catch the serious Preventer watching her with such… gentle affection and
she'd know.
He had a lot to deal with before their relationship ever evolved into something
more serious. She had a lot to deal with. Both had jobs that needed them
and a few would not like their relationship if it was ever announced to
the public. But those were all worries for later. Now, she just wanted
to enjoy the few times she was able to see him, smile at him, and hold
his hand for the few seconds he'd allow. She giggled, a very undiplomatic
sound, and smiled.
"You seem in a fine mood, miss." Pagan spoke from the driver's seat and
Relena turned her smile upon the old butler and chauffeur.
"Yes, Pagan. I am in very good mood." She removed her sunglasses and ran
a hand through her hair, pulling out the tangles. "Pagan, could you please
stop by the Preventers' Headquarters?"
"Of course, miss."
"Well, well. Don't you look just peachy in your new uniform?" Michael placed
his hands behind his head and leaned against his cell's wall as a familiar
figure entered the chamber. He smiled arrogantly, but his eyes were shadowed
and darted to the door as it slid shut and the electronic lock was activated
once again.
"You asked for me. Why?" Midii glanced around, one hand looped around the
top of her black pants. Her khaki jacket stood open showing her plain white
shirt underneath. Her I.D. shone brightly on the jacket beside it resting
two pens carefully situated in a holder placed inside her coat pocket and
Michael snorted once before allowing his eyes to fall toward the empty
holster she wore.
"No weapons? You really are a confident little bitch." She merely shifted
her hip to the right and stared at him. Finally, the former lord looked
away and spoke in short, harsh sentences. "I want parole. I can't survive
this much longer. I'm dying. I want parole and you can get it for me."
Her eyes widened, "You're mad. I can't do any such thing and I wouldn't
if I could! You're charged with attempted murder!"
Michael growled and pushed away from the wall, "I want out of here! You
and that psycho are both getting off scot-free! You're one of them! She's
going to the nuthouse and will be set free on good behavior in a few months!
I'm going to jail! I want PAROLE!" With each word he advanced toward the
blonde spy and Midii shook her head.
"I made a mistake and Dorothy understood that. You were out for revenge.
Michael, I can't, won't, help you." She turned to walk out of the
cell, but the former Romefeller aide grabbed her arm in a tight grasp.
"You won't help me?" He shoved her backwards, watching as she easily regained
her balance. "Then put me out of my misery. I know you can do it. Just
kill me." Michael took her hand and placed it on his throat. Midii jerked
her hand back as if burned and he sneered. "You can't do it. This whole
thing's messed with you."
"The only thing that's messed up is you, Michael." She shook her head as
if disgusted and spun around, facing the metal door.
"When we had sex, were you imaging that Preventer? The friend of the blonde
fluff?" She stiffened at his casual words and Michael smiled cruelly as
he leaned forward, his breath brushing against her neck. "Hmmm, my little
spy, were you?"
She spun around and shoved him, her gray eyes brimming with disgust, "Enjoy
prison, Michael. It suits you." The newly recruited Preventer slid her
I. D. through the electronic panel beside the sliding door and stepped
outside, tapping in the security code. The last thing Michael saw before
the door slid completely closed was dove-gray eyes glaring back at him.
His hand tightened and the former lord began to whistle softly as the limited
light glinted off the silver pen he so tightly held.
*
Soft humming filled the warm room as the woman stared outside her window,
watching as the sun's ray brightened the lush grounds. It was so beautiful
here. She smiled and softly touched her stomach. It would be some time
till she actually showed the effects of pregnancy, but she'd welcome them…
well, all of them except the morning sickness… She'd started feeling queasy
lately… But she suspected that it was more from nerves right now. At least,
that was what she hoped. She'd gladly put off the sick, stomach twisting
feeling for a couple more months if she could.
"Have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful woman in the galaxy?"
A low, husky voice intoned from the doorway and Hilde turned around to
face Duo Maxwell. He quickly shortened the distance between them and took
her in his arms, swinging her around briefly before placing a long kiss
on her lips.
They broke away for air and she smiled mischievously up at him, "Not today.
The lack of compliments has sent me into such a depressed state. Perhaps
you should show me how much you care?"
Duo nodded mock seriously, "Of course, wife." He grinned, "That still sounds
good. My wife." He kissed her again and Hilde returned it happily. The
American lifted her slightly, allowing Hilde to wrap her legs around his
waist, and his roguish grin caused her to laugh as he waggled his eyebrows
impishly.
"Silly American." She teased, fluttering her eyelashes, and Duo mimed shock
before nibbling on her neck. She smiled and ran her hands through his hair,
breaking the black band that had held the braid so tightly. "The bed's
in the next room." Hilde whispered in his ear and Duo cheerfully made his
way to the door, when a beeping noise reached both.
"What the hell?" He carefully placed Hilde on her feet and looked around
the room, his eyes landing on the blinking vid phone. He groaned and walked
toward the phone, "What is it?"
Sally's face popped up and she smiled at him, "Glad to see you, too, Duo!
Your team is ready. You did tell me to call you as soon as they were each
recruited."
The American groaned again, running a hand through his now loose hair.
"I'll be there in a minute."
"Okay. Oh, and Duo?"
"What?"
"You should wear your hair down more often." She winked and her image disappeared
as she cut off the connection before he could retaliate. For a second,
Duo just glowered at the phone then with a sigh turned around to find Hilde
holding out a brush and a new band.
"It's okay, Duo. I understand." Hilde smiled widely, "Any ways, you can
make it up to me tonight."
He grinned and took the items from her. "I'll see you, babe." Duo kissed
her once then hurried out of the Darlian mansion and back to HQ, muttering
angrily to himself all the way.
*
Quatre removed his glasses as he entered Preventer HQ. It had taken a surprisingly
short amount of time to prepare for his departure, as his sisters were
happy to help him out in any way. He shoved the glasses into his shirt
pocket and nodded warmly at a few Preventers that yelled hellos and heys
as he walked by. He made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a cup
of coffee as he stared at the wall before him. Sally had left him such
a cryptic message when he had reached earth that he wasn't sure if he'd
guessed right… The Arabian sighed and poured the remaining bitter liquid
down the sink and walked toward the wall.
A deft touch here and there and soon Quatre was behind the wall and staring
at the five tunnels that twisted around, below, and behind the Preventer
building. It was a group of remarkably capable planners and architects
that had designed and constructed the hidden tunnels that only a specific
few knew about. The Winner should know, seeing as he was one of the designers.
He chose the third tunnel and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked
the long length of walkway. His mind wandered as the tunnel twisted this
way and that, the way lit by various light fixtures. He wondered how Dorothy
was doing… The newspapers were reporting that the Duchess was taking a
vacation in Paris and had been spotted numerous times. He wished she'd
called him or anything… He wanted to see her, to talk to her, to touch
her, feel her… Quatre groaned and raised a pale hand to his head.
That night… When he had held her hand and the snow had slowly fell around
them and her soft voice had spoken about her father. He wanted to repeat
that. He wanted to hold her before a fire and listen to her tales of a
life she'd had to leave behind. He wanted to know everything. But Quatre
didn't think Dorothy would ever be able to reveal everything to him. He
believed her when she'd said she hated him as well as loved. He wanted
to show her that he wasn't like the other men she'd had in her life, that
he would never hurt her ever again… Like he had that day with those hateful
words… Even now he didn't know how he'd been able to say those things to
her.
"Officer Winner!" A surprised voice shook Quatre out of his thoughts and
the Arabian looked up into the brown eyes of an obviously lower ranking
officer. He glanced at the metal door behind the Preventer and frowned.
"I want to see the prisoner." His voice was one of command, the voice of
someone that expected to be obeyed. The officer hesitated and shifted slightly.
"I wasn't told—."
Quatre sighed, "May I please speak with the prisoner? It's urgent. You
may call Miss Po if you wish. I'm sure I have the authorization."
The officer fidgeted once again then slowly nodded and turned around to
tap in the code. The metal door slid open and Quatre entered, his eyes
locked on the figure inside. The prisoner smiled as he entered and Quatre
resisted the urge to turn and walk back out… Instead the Arabian calmly
sat down on the small cot and prepared for the interrogation ahead of him.
"How are you, Une?"
Dorothy waited uneasily as Catherine brought two mugs of hot cocoa into
the living room. The Duchess stared at the cups, trying to forget the horrid
taste of the meal she had eaten earlier. And that man. That despicable
clown. He'd just sat across from her, calmly eating away, but she'd known…
He'd been amused! And Lavender Gladius couldn't do a damn thing about.
Lavender Gladius had to smile and nod as she shoved the disgusting soup
down her throat.
She began to yank at the tiny threads holding her long shirt together.
It was his shirt. Catherine had pulled him aside and Dorothy had watched
as Trowa left the trailer only to return seconds later with this. It was
plain and too large for her, which made it perfect to sleep in… At least,
that was what Cathie had said. Dorothy felt extremely uncomfortable and
wanted a real nightgown. It had been a long time since she'd been away
from the luxuries of the wealthy. Even longer since she'd had to actually
pull off a disguise. She could handle the disguise, she could even handle
the lack of comfort, but she could not eat this woman's soup again. The
Duchess smiled warmly as she took the mug offered and cautiously sipped
from it, mentally sighing in relief as the warm liquid danced across her
taste buds.
"Lavender," Catherine sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa
and tilted her head, "I don't mean to pry, but you and my brother don't
seem to be on the best of terms. Why did you contact him?"
Dorothy stared into her cup and frowned slightly, "Trowa… is a very unusual
man… I find that no matter what I can always speak to him, even if it is
mainly taunts. Where I come from, there's no one quite like him and, well…
I missed him." The room grew silent as she closed her mouth and studied
her words. They had been the first words to come to mind, yet they held
a note of truth that not even a lifetime of training could've put into
them. Did she see Trowa in such a light?
The knife-thrower just stared at the woman sitting before her. She tilted
her head and Dorothy's eyes met the circus performer's directly and a small
smile appeared on Cathie's lips. "I think he might've missed you, too,
Lavender." Dorothy's surprised was evident and Catherine's smile widened.
She motioned toward Dorothy's cocoa. "It's getting cold. Well, practice
starts tomorrow so I'd get some sleep if I were you. G'night."
"What the hell?" The Duchess whispered, then glowered as she tried to control
her confusion. She lowered her body onto the sofa, her pale white legs
thrown over the back of the coach. Darkness settled onto the circus and
Dorothy allowed her eyes time to adjust as she stared at the ceiling.
"I think he might've missed you, too, Lavender."
Dorothy frowned and swung her legs off the back so she could sit up. Sleep?
She didn't sleep. Her feet crushed the soft carpet as she stood and made
her way toward the door. She didn't want to wake Cathie and have another
conversation. The woman had startled her, something very few people had
ever been able to do… One being Trowa Barton… She supposed it was only
suitable that the sister would have the same ability.
"You were great for a one-night stand, but otherwise… Well, don't become
clingy, Miss Dorothy."
I forgave him. Yet, a sharp jolt seemed to stab at her heart as she remembered
the way Quatre had looked as he'd spoken the words. It was easier to not
care, to not love or hate, but first Quatre and his talks of peace and
kindness and then Trowa telling her it was sad that she couldn't cry. What
did it matter if she could cry? Tears were just fluid produced in the lacrimal
gland and used to lubricate the eye. Eyedrops served the same purpose.
Dorothy crept outside, her feet digging into loose sand. Plants didn't
grow well on the colonies, but sand could easily be found and it didn't
need loving care. She rubbed her arms and stared upward through the clear
ceiling of the colony and at the stars that shone so brightly.
"One day I hope to celebrate Christmas completely and truly with my heart."
"What are you doing, Dorothy?" The Duchess didn't turn around at the sound
of Trowa's voice instead she just stood silently as the acrobat walked
up beside her. They stood quietly, both watching the stars glitter above
till the blonde finally turned to face her Preventer bodyguard.
"Do you cry, Trowa?"
He blinked in surprise at the question and looked away from the blonde.
"Yes… I've cried and do cry. Why won't you cry, Dorothy?" Trowa faced her
and Dorothy calmly reached up and pushed his bangs aside.
"Why do you hide?" A tiny smile danced across her features as she turned
and walked back inside Cathie's trailer, leaving the acrobat to shake his
head and enter his own home.
*
A:N : Hola! I'd love to hear what
you have to say about this fic. So reviews are highly welcomed *^_^* Ciao!!--Figgy