Warnings: This fic is a sequel for 'Rapiers and Scimitars', it may be wise to read R&S before reading this. ^_^ This fic does contain violence, angst, lemony lime, sappy Duo & Hilde Maxwell, preggie Hilde, temperamental Dorothy, and anything else my demented mind (with the help of Muse, say hi Muse! Muse: Original, isn't she? While other muses are given names as Bob or Callista or ANYTHING! I get named Muse... Someone hates me.) Enjoy!
Clowns and Spies
Chapter Three
"Relena!"
"Duo!"
The two stared at each other as they simultaneously entered Preventer HQ
and a grin broke out across the American's face. "Finally taking my advice,
eh? Joining I.D, huh?"
The Minister smiled, "As much as I'd love to accept the offer, I'm here
to see Heero." Relena glanced at her watch, "I hope that's all right. I
saw him briefly at Une's trial, but didn't have a chance to speak with
him. I'm surprised you weren't there, Duo."
He nodded, "I wasn't needed so I planned on spending the time with Hilde…"
Duo sighed heavily and she raised an eyebrow.
"But…?"
Duo groaned, "But then work called, so here I am…" A sudden change overtook
the American and Relena couldn't help but laugh as he beamed and let out
a loud whoop. "Got my own team! Finally, Heero buddy's not in charge! I
mean, I'm all for being second most of the time, but it's nice to, well…"
The man raised a hand to the back of his head, flashing Relena a sheepish
grin. "Well, I gotta go prep my team. See ya, Rellie." He shoved his hands
into his jacket pockets and whistled as he turned down a hall. The Minister
stared after him for a minute, then chuckled softly and turned around,
ready to make her way to Heero's office.
Only to have the object of her visit standing right behind her. Relena
jumped a step back and held a hand to her heart as Heero stared down at
her in concern, though it showed only in his Prussian blue eyes. "Relena,
what do you want?"
Romantic, isn't he? She thought with amusement, then Relena raised herself
up on her tiptoes and lightly kissed the surprised Preventer Officer. "Good
day, Heero." With that the Minister spun around on her heels and walked
back out of the building with a light step.
Heero stared after her, a small smile on his usually solemn face.
*
Duo entered his office with a grin as he eyed the Preventers that made
up his small team. It had to be a small team. The fewer people that knew
that Dorothy was actually somewhere in space, the better. It consisted
of Chang Wufei, his second-in-command, Midii Une, Trowa Barton, Robert
Card, and Kristin Bishop. Robert was considered a veteran even though he
was only thirty because he was one of the oldest living Preventers so far.
Sadly, preventing wars and chaos caused many to lose their lives at a very
young age… A worry that had sometimes kept Duo's wife awake for hours.
He was intelligent and loyal, a dependable man that followed orders quickly
and efficiently. Kristin Bishop was from I. D., Intelligence Division,
and had already opened her laptop. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face
and her eyes narrowed behind their thick rimmed glasses. A somewhat shy
and meek woman who treated everyone politely… At least she was shy and
polite when not actually working. It always amazed Duo to watch the petite
woman suddenly become a walking time bomb whenever her work was questioned.
She took pride in being one of the best at cracking codes, hacking into
enemy data, and creating software that had helped them numerous times…
Only a few could beat her, yet she acknowledged this with grace even searching
those few out when she needed help… Oh, yes, she'd accept help from those
that she knew were better, but if someone else offered… Someone like a
certain Chinese ex-Gundam pilot or a braided American… And one would be
lucky to be in one piece once she was through with them.
Three heads swerved upward to glance at him, only two continued to stare.
Kristin was busily typing away while Robert raised a questioning eyebrow.
Wufei waited till Duo had closed the door to open his mouth. "What's this
about, Maxwell? Sally handed me a file containing Catalonia's information
and told me to meet you here."
Duo frowned, "Where's Midii?" Wufei glowered as Duo ignored his question,
but finally relented and shifted his shoulders as he crossed his arms in
front of his chest.
"I do not know."
"She's supposed to be here." Duo grumbled, but a small slam caused him
to glance sharply toward Kristin. She smiled sweetly, the tips of her ears
turning red at becoming the center of attention.
"One of the prisoners asked for her. I haven't seen her since she was called."
The American sighed, "I'll inform her later then. Now—."
Duo's eyes widened as loud banging interrupted him and angrily he yanked
his door open only to be confronted by a breathless officer. "There's been
an explosion outside! The Vice Foreign Minister was—Hey!"
Officer Maxwell was already bolting down the hall.
"I'm fine, Quatre." Une answered, smiling slightly as she breathed in the
scent of a bouquet of roses. He eyed them, realizing each had had their
thorns removed, he supposed the guards wanted to take no chances with the
woman standing before him. Her room was bare of any other luxuries, save
the flowers, and he wondered how she'd convinced them to allow her even
those. "How are you?"
"Quite well. I returned home for a bit." He replied pleasantly, his tone
belying the feelings that raged inside of him. This woman had nearly had
Dorothy and Trowa killed, his own life had been put into jeopardy because
of her, and here she sat so calmly as if she were merely meeting him in
her home… "Your trial started today, didn't it?"
"Yes. Jean is trying to have me moved to a new cell." Une waved a hand
toward her cell; "She does not enjoy the thought of me hidden away among
those that are speaking against me."
"Jean?" The Arabian asked, inserting just the right amount of curiosity.
She nodded, "My lawyer." Neither spoke as Une returned her attention toward
her roses. He watched as she softly ran a finger along one soft petal.
"You understand, don't you?" Her voice surprised him and Quatre stood.
"I had to do it. For the Preventers, for his dream. I didn't
want her to die, but it was for the better good. Don't you see?" The scent
of roses flowed around him and Quatre began to feel suffocated by its intoxicating
scent. His vision wavered and Quatre placed a hand on the cold metal wall,
his breathing becoming more and more erratic. "No one understands… It was
for him. For the Preventers. For the people. She had to die."
A soft hand fell upon his shoulder and Quatre jerked away, turning to face
her even as everything blurred and grayed. "Are you all right, Quatre?"
"Something… Allah." The Arabian fell to his knees, one hand clutching at
his shirt above his heart, and pain flowed through his chest…
Then darkness claimed him.
*
A quick twist and the guard fell to the ground, his eyes forever open in
death's endless slumber. The figure wiped their hands on their black pants
and smiled slightly as they surveyed their work. Quite neat. No mess. It
was so much easier to break someone's neck than bother with guns or knives
or explosives. Though those did come in handy.
The figure glanced toward the steel door and a cold chuckle passed their
lips. What was the little prisoner up to? They raised a gloved hand and
tapped in the security code, waiting patiently as the steel door slowly
slid aside. The prisoner jerked and a smile danced across the figure's
lips. "What an ingenious little prisoner you are." They stared at what
had once been the electronic ID lock.
Michael raised startled eyes away from the lock. The silver pen lay in
pieces before the former lord. Before him the lock had been butchered open
and the ex-Romefeller aide had used the pen's smaller, sharp sections to
shove aside wires and pierce through others. His mouth fell open as the
figure smiled cruelly.
"What do you think you're doing?! Get the hell away—!" Michael let out
a hoarse yell as the figure's arm shoved forward, plunging the knife deep
into his gullet. The figure's smile widened as it twisted the knife, then
slashed upward toward the lord's throat, as if gutting a fish. Michael
gurgled, blood slipping down his chin, and fell forward. The figure stared
at the gutted prisoner and carefully wiped the remaining blood on Michael's
clothes and sheets.
Then with a cheerful whistle, the figure set to work.
Sometimes a little mess was worth it.
*
"Trapeze." Trowa stated, echoing Dorothy and she smiled warmly at him,
her eyes revealing her evident amusement at his expression.
"Yes, darling. Trapeze. I'm positive I can accomplish such a feat." She
tossed her hair over one shoulder, but a slight frown danced across her
features as she realized her hair was not as long as it had once been.
Fake morning light poured down on the two as they stood in front of Catherine's
trailer. Actually, Dorothy stood in the doorway, staring down at Trowa
who wanted to be let inside. He also wanted her to put some clothes on
since she was still wearing his shirt… And she'd somehow caused the threads
to fray. A set of triplets, they performed tricks with the horses, giggled
as they passed by, pointing at the two.
He frowned and took a step up the shaky three steps leading to his sister's
trailer's door. He'd have to build her a new wooden set of steps soon.
"Lavender."
Dorothy leaned forward, her eyes positively glowing with repressed malicious
laughter. "Yes, Trowa?"
"Lav, shower's free!" Cathie yelled from inside and soon the auburn haired
performer appeared behind the blonde, smiling as she towel dried her hair.
"Good morning, Trowa! Coffee's ready." She beamed at both before hopping
down the steps, her shorts showing an ample amount of leg as she dashed
off. "Need to speak to the manager!"
Trowa smiled fondly after his sister then turned to face the Duchess once
more… Only to find that she'd already left. He walked inside and could
hear the sound of steady water streaming and made his way to the small
kitchen. His eyes fell on the fresh pot of coffee and he poured himself
a mug. It was a ritual between he and Cathie. He ate her soup and she fixed
him coffee. Trowa breathed in the strong aroma and leaned against the kitchen
counter, slowly drinking the dark, bitter liquid. He closed his eyes and
mentally went over the day's activities. They had a performance in two
days, today and tomorrow would be practicing and preparation.
"Pour me a cup, clown." A cool voice broke through his thoughts and he
opened his eyes to stare coldly at the Duchess… Or at least that was what
he intended. However, he was unprepared for the sight before him. I shouldn't
be surprised… He thought as he picked up the coffeepot.
Dorothy frowned as Trowa merely glanced at her and then turned to pour
her a cup. She leaned against the doorway; one hand raised to hold up the
towel she'd wrapped around her body. Her hair hung wet around her, just
barely brushing her bare shoulders as it clung to her face. She'd pushed
it behind her ears and he raised an eyebrow at the change of appearance.
Her face appeared flushed from scrubbing and her blue-gray eyes shone brightly.
Long, smooth legs rubbed against each other as she waited impatiently for
her mug.
She took the cup from him and sipped at the hot drink, careful not to scold
her tongue. "Your sister is quite an interesting person. Very smart for
one borne to such a lifestyle." She smirked over the warm mug and raised
an eyebrow at him, as if waiting for him to speak.
Silence grew between the two and Dorothy sniffed. "You—." A loud bang announced
the arrival of someone entering the trailer and a cheerful man that stood
taller than Trowa and as brawny as a bull stepped into the kitchen grinning.
"Cathie, I—Oh…" A blush painted his cheeks as he stared at the scene before
him. "I didn't mean to interrupt…"
Dorothy smiled, "You aren't interrupting. Is he, darling?" She purred and
with a slow, smoldering smile for Trowa, walked out of the room, her hips
swaying beneath the thin towel.
"Trowa, I really didn't mean—I mean… I'm sorry." The large man sheepishly
grinned as he backed out of the room and the acrobat merely shook his head
once as he turned his attention back to his coffee. Dorothy would never
learn. She was such an intelligent woman when it came to most things, but
this need to prove to him that she didn't care for Quatre… The constant
hints, the touches, the taunts…
The front door closed and Trowa finished the last of his coffee just as
Dorothy entered the kitchen once more. She wore the outfit she'd packed;
a pair of khaki shorts and a golden yellow top. He suspected that the slight
bulge he spotted at the side of her sock was the now assembled gun. Her
hand unconsciously ran along her necklace's length and she'd pulled her
wet hair back in a ponytail. "Where did the giant wander off to?" She smirked
and he motioned toward the door. "Interesting." Dorothy turned and left
the kitchen and soon Trowa heard the door open and close once again.
He would've sighed, but he wasn't that type of person. So, instead he pushed
away from the counter, walked to the door, and made his way outside. It
didn't take long for his eyes to find her. Already, other performers had
surrounded her and she was smiling and answering readily. Trowa leaned
against another performer's, he suspected the triplets', trailer and watched
the Duchess. She truly was a magnificent actress. The way she fitted into
the role of Lavender Gladius was amazing.
Laughter bubbled from the group and Dorothy smiled and nodded as she apologetically
made her way through the crowd with two of the more advanced trapeze artists,
a couple by the names of Jamie and Clay Harris. The Duchess listened placidly
to the couple as they offered several bits of advice. Trowa followed at
a distance as they entered the main tent. Jamie was pointing out where
their equipment lay and was grinning widely as 'Lavender' nodded obediently.
"Trowa." Catherine's voice admonished him and he turned around to face
her. "We also have to practice. She'll be fine. I saw some of her recommendations
and she sounds spectacular! We'll have to probably work up a new routine
to keep up." His sister winked playfully, then gave his arm a small tug
before walking off, fully expecting him to follow. With one last glance
toward Dorothy, the acrobat turned and left the tent.
Duo slammed through the doors and into chaos. Paramedics had arrived, but
they were a somber pair as they lifted a burned figure onto a stretcher.
Before HQ the remains of Relena's limousine smoldered as water streamed
from a bright yellow hose. Another ambulance pulled into the lot and began
to carry those that had been hit with flying debris or burned by the already
dead flame to help. The American skidded to a stop as two Preventers rushed
by to help lift a large sheet of metal off a fellow Preventer. Somewhere
a child cried and for a brief second Duo was transported to years back.
He was suddenly merely fifteen and staring down at the destruction he'd
wrought.
Someone shoved past him, flinging him back to the present and Duo forced
his eyes to see the scene before him instead of memories of old deeds.
He eyed the disorder around him and shook his head. This wouldn't do. "Listen
up. Split into groups of four! Help those that are wounded to the paramedics.
Do not bother the medics! Wufei, help me with this!" The American leapt
down the few stone steps and began helping the two Preventers that had
passed him earlier. The Chinese man soon joined him and together the four
managed to lift the metal. The medics quickly carried the victim away and
Duo began to run to help another set, still issuing orders to those acting
too slowly.
It was a shock at how much damage such a small explosion could cause. Relena's
limousine had erupted, showering anyone nearby. Some of the wounds were
minor, a cut or bruise here… However, some were much more fatal. With the
force of such velocity, even the tiniest piece of metal could wound severely
if it hit the wrong spot. Several patients being loaded were burn victims.
Wufei backed away as two more Preventers took his and Duo's place. The
American was actually quite good at keeping the calm and order, surprising
considering he was usually the one to cause chaos.
A flash of blonde caught his eye and Wufei spun around, watching as Midii
Une exited the building at a run. Her hair whipped behind her, falling
from its unruly bun. She listened to Duo's orders then bolted to quickly
join a group of three. Sally Po wasn't far behind the former spy and Wufei
felt a sense of calm descend upon him as his partner joined him. She didn't
say a word as she eyed the scene. She merely frowned and shook her head,
with a glance toward Wufei and a small smile; she darted to the nearest
medic and began helping him.
The Chinese man watched her work for a minute, then shook his head once,
and plunged into the very much less chaotic fray.
*
Relena stared wide-eyed as the paramedic sadly shook his head and a Preventer
zipped the body bag close. It couldn't be true. God, it couldn't be true!
She had been so happy. How could everything change so quickly? She had
been giddy, floating on air, and he'd been standing there, waiting patiently
for her… He had smiled and made as if to open her door and then…
A tear slid down her pale face and the arms holding her tightened. She
began to tremble as more and more tears flowed. Yet, when she opened her
mouth… Nothing. She wanted to scream, to sob, to yell… The reporters were
already appearing and a few had spotted her. She shook her head, sending
her hair flying. The presence behind her understood and slowly began to
back away into the shadows with her.
"Relena? Relena, answer me." A voice whispered in her ear and she knew
that voice. Loved that voice. Relena turned around to face Heero and he
gently wiped her tears away. "Relena…"
She didn't want to speak. She didn't want to try to convince him she was
all right. She wasn't all right. How could she be all right when he was
dead? He'd always been there for her. He had been like a grandfather to
her. Pagan was dead. He couldn't die. But he had. A sob finally broke free
and Relena lowered her face onto Heero's chest and cried.
Heero held her tight with one hand as he used his other to hold his Preventer
jacket up, trying to block the cameras that had found them. He glowered
at the reporters before tightening his hold on Relena, lifting her easily
into his arms, and carrying her inside Preventer HQ.
*
"Urgh…" Quatre groaned as he slowly raised to his knees, a hand to his head. The pain in his chest was slowly fading as he blinked wearily at his surroundings. He stood; leaning against the steel wall for support, wondering how many people had just been harmed nearby for him to be affected so greatly. Usually he only shared another's pain when he knew the person well… Who? He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It hit him so hard that Quatre lunged forward, nearly slamming into the door.
The cell was empty.
No Une.
Quatre found his ID lying on the ground and quickly picked it up, sliding it through the lock. The door slid open and Quatre bolted outside, cursing his luck. She could be anywhere! He had no idea how long he'd been out. His eyes darted along the hall and he halted to a surprised stop. The door to Michael's cell was open and the guard lay prone on the ground. The two cells stood across from one another, yet now… In the doorway, stood Lady Une. Quietly, the Arabian approached the still woman and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Une—Allah…" Quatre's eyes widened as he stared at what kept the woman so captivated. The small, steel cell's walls were drenched in blood and lying on a now red cot was Michael, his eyes wide in disbelief. His eyes were one of the few things that had been left whole… Not even as a Gundam pilot had he seen such… This wasn't war or battle… This was cold-blooded murder. This man had been mutilated.
"The wall, Quatre." Une spoke calmly, her voice seeming unnaturally loud under the circumstances.
His eyes followed to where she motioned and a chill sped through his blood. Written in the sticky red substance that had been so easily taken from Michael's prone body were the words:
Failure is not an option.
"I fear, Quatre, that I'd prefer walking with you than staying behind in my cell." She turned to face him, her brown eyes meeting his with disturbing ease. The Arabian nodded and together the two made their way down the secret tunnel and toward others… Quatre keeping a tight hold on the gun he'd taken from the guard's body.
*
"I'm not sure… Maybe if we…" Trowa blinked as he heard the rustle of paper
and the scratch of a pencil. He walked into his sister's living room and
found her and Dorothy sitting on the floor, papers surrounding them.
Dorothy watched as Catherine drew a quick sketch and nodded slightly. "That.
We can do that."
Catherine bit her lower lip, "Are you sure? I've never—."
The Duchess smiled slightly, "You can, Cathie. I'm sure of it." The two
grinned at each other, then Catherine began to laugh. Dorothy's smile widened
and she would probably have joined Cathie in her laughter, when her eyes
fell on the figure watching them. "Hello, Trowa."
"Trowa!" Catherine controlled her laughter and stood, as did Dorothy. "Lav
and I were going over her new performance." She handed him her sketch and
his eyes widened. "See, she'll perform a few basic moves on the bar while
I aim upward. The first five daggers will land in the ground in a circle.
Lavender says she can land inside the circle and catch the last two. The
crowd will be great!"
"Are you mad?" His voice came out in such a low, hoarse whisper that Catherine
jerked and stared up at him in surprise, but he wasn't asking her. Trowa's
emerald eyes were on the blonde that stood staring at him arrogantly, one
hand playing with her silver necklace.
"Perhaps we should speak outside." She smirked as she crossed her arms
before her chest and sauntered out of the trailer, waiting for him in the
false afternoon light. The acrobat followed and Cathie watched her brother
leave with a small, sad smile.
"I told you nothing dangerous." They faced each other, Dorothy's smug smirk
irritating him as much as his nearly expressionless face annoyed her.
"You never did promise me those kisses." The words were flirtatious, but
her tone was etched with venom.
Trowa's eyes narrowed, "This isn't a game."
Her smirk widened and she took a step forward, "That's nice to hear. I
never did play fair." She made as if to walk by him, but the acrobat's
hand wrapped around her wrist. She stared up at him; "I have to act my
part. That means doing this performance."
Emerald ice met blue-gray steel and Trowa released her wrist. Dorothy had
reached the top step when his voice called out to her. "What do you
hide from, Lavender?" Dorothy pivoted around and watched
as the acrobat confidently walked away.
*
Catherine sighed as the door closed behind Trowa and slowly sat back down
on the sofa. She wished Trowa would confide in her and tell her what was
going on with him and Lavender. Every time they were in the same room she
could literally feel the tension. What had happened between them?
She carefully lowered her sketch to the floor and picked up the old, gray
remote control to her ancient TV and clicked it on. She frowned as she
flipped through the five channels and shrugged as news came up on each.
She leaned back and watched as a picture of earth flashed across the screen.
"As many know, Vice Foreign Minister Darlian is highly admired by colonists
and earthlings, which is why the attack on her life today has been met
with much worry and concern. Briefly after exiting the heated trial for
the ex-Preventer leader, Une, Ms. Darlian was brought to Preventer Headquarters.
A small explosive was detonated on her vehicle as she left the building
and victims of the explosion are being sent to Saint Victoria's Hospital.
The Minister was fortunate and has been noted to be in perfect health,
yet deeply shocked by today's events. One death has been reported, but
an identity has yet to be confirmed. " As the reporter calmly spoke, pictures
flashed across the screen and Cathie watched in silent horror as Preventers
rushed along the grounds to help the wounded.
"That's horrible…" She whispered, but the news anchors at the station were
questioning the reporter.
"Has the Minister been available for questioning?"
The reporter shook her head slightly, "Vice Foreign Minister Darlian is
being kept under extensive security inside Preventer Headquarters and so
far no one has been allowed inside to see her."
"Thank you, Belle. We will be following this closely." The anchor smiled
at the camera as he rustled a pile of papers.
"Now, your local weather."
"Those poor people…" Catherine shook her head sadly as she stood to get
a glass of water, only to turn and see Lavender in the doorway. The blonde's
mouth was set in a thin line and she looked even paler, if that was possible.
"Lav, are you okay?"
Dorothy blinked and turned blue-gray eyes toward Cathie. "Oh, I'm fine.
Just… shocking news…" She spun around, "I'll be right back, Cathie." The
Duchess quickly left the room and the circus performer watched her worriedly.
It was the first time Catherine had ever seen the woman not saunter off
as if in a room full of eligible males.
An attack on Relena. One person had been killed, yet the Minister was safe.
Who had died? And what did they mean by 'extensive security'? I cannot
have her being locked away because of a terrorist. She promised me that
she'd run Romefeller. The Duchess gritted her teeth together. If Relena
had been hurt, Dorothy would've been upset, but as it was she was merely
worried over her position and foundation. One of the main reasons she'd
agreed to this was because she'd believed Romefeller would be taken care
of during her absence. Now…
Who had died?
The lack of information bothered her and a feeling… A feeling that she
was missing something… She had felt this way during the supposed attempts
on Quatre's life. What could she be missing now? One of her few true friends
had nearly been killed, her association could be in shambles when she finally
returned to earth, and everyone here believed that she could perform.
And the clown had gotten the last word.
"Damn." She muttered as the false afternoon light streamed down on her
as her feet shifted in the sand.
"What do you hide from, Lavender?"
She had never admitted not hiding from something. Didn't everyone hide
at least one thing from the outside world? From their self? That was one
of Quatre's problems. He wanted to know everything. He didn't want her
to keep anything just for herself and she couldn't do that. There were
things that he'd never understand… Or worse, he'd try to understand.
If she had to speak certain things aloud she'd prefer it if the person
just accepted it. She didn't want to discuss her entire life. If she'd
wanted to talk to another person and have them try to understand, she'd
have hired a psychiatrist. Dorothy made her way to Trowa's trailer, standing
before his door. Did he know about the news? If so, why hadn't he informed
her? Had he been about to when he'd overheard her and Cathie?
She needed to quit this and return home. This place, these people,
were beginning to get to her. Already, she was finding it easier and easier
to slip into her role as Lavender… She no longer had to force every smile
and… She was starting to like Catherine, in some ways the woman reminded
her of Relena. Pride was an issue, however, yet the Duchess owned a bendable
pride. One couldn't sleep with numerous politicians and men of power for
information and have a very strict sense of pride and honor.
Dorothy slowly turned around and walked away from the acrobat's trailer.
She'd stay for a while longer… Let him find out about the incident himself,
though. She was here to protect him and be protected in return, not gossip.
A smirk graced her expression and she chuckled coldly as she shut the tiny
voice that whispered inside her head out.
*