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 can come up with.
Reviews make a happy Figgy *^_^* And Happy Figgies love to write!
Clowns and Spies
Chapter Six
"Hey, Lavender!"
"Performance at two, don't forget!"
"Hola, Lavvy!"
Dorothy barely registered the smiling, laughing faces that called out to
her as her feet took her far away from the circus. These people with their
always happy, team-working ways didn't need people like her to poison their
lives. Poison. Poison. That was all she was. The first man to ever touch
her had died by her hands. The men afterwards had become soulless obsessed
puppets. Quatre had nearly been killed in a fire set to take her life.
Poison. Why was it that her touch could kill so many like the deadly liquids
that paranoid politicians feared, yet she herself wasn't granted the same?
"Touch me…"
Dorothy's run slowed to a walk as concrete replaced soft sand. Her eyes
darted around, passing over the human faces watching her curiously. Colonists.
She had wandered into the populated part of the colony. No one approached
her as she wandered past various stores and buildings. A mother passed
her, dragging along a giggling five year old, and Dorothy paused to watch
them before she was jostled from behind.
"Excuse me."
She spun around to face a familiar pair of aqua blue eyes. "Quatre?"
*
"Trowa, have you seen Lavender?" Catherine asked as he exited his trailer
with a slow, deliberate pace. His head snapped up at her worried words
and emerald eyes met hers.
"What?"
She sighed, "We were talking and she just… bolted. I thought, she might've
run to you. Did something happen between you two, Trowa? She was so nervous…"
His eyes observed the area around them, trying to spot her familiar blonde
hair or swaying walk among those standing around. She was nowhere to be
seen and Trowa whispered a soft curse under his breath. His mission was
jeopardized because he couldn't keep his temper, a fact that had never
even occurred until the Duchess had fallen under his care. He knew he shouldn't
have agreed to this. He wasn't like Heero; no matter how hard he tried
people could still affect him.
"I haven't seen her, Cathie. What did you say to her?" His voice didn't
betray his worry and concern, but Catherine's eyes focused on him sharply.
"She told me she knew a woman that couldn't cry, all I said was that was
sad. Trowa, what's going on? You're hiding something from me!"
Trowa placed a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, Cathie. I'll find her."
She reached out for him, but the acrobat was already gracefully running
away, off to find the lost Gladius. He briefly paused to question a few
of the other performers and the giggling triplets were happy to point out
they'd seen Dorothy heading into town. He calmed his steps once he reached
town, his emerald green eyes searching the faces around him. Not one of
them sported flashing blue-gray eyes and a confident smirk.
Where are you, Dorothy?
*
"Rats?" Duo raised an eyebrow at Wufei's image from where he sat on his
and Hilde's bed. "Rats? Just call an exterminator or something." Sally's
head popped up behind the Chinese man and she flashed a grin at the shirtless
American. Hilde walked into the room and spotted the operating vid phone.
"Hey, Sally!" She nearly skipped over, a bright blue ribbon in her short
hair. The pregnant woman wore one of Duo's loose shirts and a pair of overalls.
Hilde dropped a quick kiss on Duo's cheek before humming happily as she
opened their joint closet.
Wufei frowned as Sally piped a hello and set to ignoring the two women.
"I wasn't talking about rats, Maxwell. She just pointed one
out." Sally rolled her eyes and nudged the dead animal with her foot while
Hilde wrinkled her nose as she stepped out of the closet, holding a dress.
"We've just been informed that one of the scientists on duty that night
is sick and hasn't been questioned because of his condition."
"What?!" Duo cursed as he lunged to his feet, "Hasn't been questioned?!
Damn it! Who gives a damn if he has a cold? He was THERE!"
"I know that, Maxwell." Wufei calmly replied, "His fellow employees decided
that he needed the time to rest before he was interrogated."
"Damn. Damn. Damn. Don't they understand? That acid is dangerous. It can
kill. Why do they think it was stolen? I want someone at his place now.
I want him questioned and brought into HQ even if he's death walking. I
want answers, Wufei." Duo Maxwell had rarely shown a serious, angry side
of his usually cheerful personality, but when he did people listened and
they listened closely.
"Who should go?"
Duo rubbed his temples as he paced, "You stay. I want the remaining lab
crew watched. Keeping this sort of information… I want the results from
that pen. They've been delaying that too long. I want them now. They can
put aside their little experiments and studies. I. Want. Results. Where
is Robert?"
"Watching that Midii woman." Wufei knew Duo didn't completely trust the
woman, but she was part of the team. She was efficient and already knew
too much… Robert was a trustworthy and intelligent Preventer; after all,
he'd been here longer than any of them and was still alive.
"That leaves Kristin. Inform her of the situation. I want that man questioned."
The American's eyes focused on Wufei, "And, Wufei, tell her to bring her
gun."
*
"Quatre? Do you know Quatre?" A smile danced across bubble gum pink lips
while blue eyes lit up happily while Dorothy slowly took in the face that
went along with the aqua eyes. At first glance, yes… But no… God, no… Blonde
hair had been sheared in a messy, cute cut and the figure wore a white
dress. The resemblance was truly uncanny. Dorothy had met Iria and could
see a slight one, but this girl… But the longer Dorothy looked, the more
she realized the girl's nose was slightly crooked and upturned, that her
hair had a red sheen to it instead of golden blonde, and the aqua blue
eyes had green specks hidden here and there.
One of Quatre's many sisters…
"Cuatro. Yo hablo espanol. ¿Tu?" A proper mask of confusion and
hope fell across Dorothy's features as the perfect accent of Spanish flowed
off her tongue. She made hand motions as she continued. "Cuatro ferrocarril?
Ayudas?"
The girl blinked, "I'm sorry. I don't understand." She stated each word
slowly, a concerned expression flickering across her features.
"¿Hablo no espanol?" Dorothy bit her lower lip and glanced around
confusedly. "No ayudar…"
The girl was now truly uncomfortable, yet too caring to just walk away.
"I wish I could understand what you're asking…" She glanced around, as
if searching for help, and she found it. A tall man with startling green
eyes and an unusual hairstyle had spotted her and the Spanish-speaking
Duchess. Trowa calmly made his way to the two and placed a light hand on
Dorothy's arm, ignoring the fact she jerked it out of his grasp.
"I'm sorry if she's been bothering you, miss." He told Quatre's sister,
also spotting the slight resemblance, and began to lead Dorothy away.
"It was no bother…" The girl watched as the two walked off, shaking her
head once before resuming her shopping.
Dorothy followed Trowa in silence as they made their way back to the circus.
"I heard part of the conversation. How many languages can you speak?" He
quietly asked as she studied the shops they passed and made a mental note
to send a request to a seamstress named Susannah Benton.
"How many can you speak, Mr. Barton?"
Silence lasted till they reached the edge of the circus. The acrobat gently
grabbed Dorothy's hand and pulled her close, releasing her as quickly as
his hand had closed around hers. "I apologize. I never meant to cause you
pain."
Dorothy raised an eyebrow, her mind drifting toward a still slightly stinging
cheek. "Oh?" He merely answered by staring down at her. "Why apologize,
Trowa? You finally saw what you've wanted to see for so long. I cried.
I admit it. I'm not one to cling to denial."
"How long before you stop hiding?"
"The only person hiding here is you, Mr. Barton."
"Kill me…"
Trowa watched as Duchess Catalonia walked away, shutting him out once again…
*
Kristin stepped out of her inconspicuous black car and glanced down at the sheet of paper held in one small hand. She shrugged and shoved the paper into her black pants. Her Preventer jacket was zipped, hiding her plain blue shirt. Most wore a white shirt under their jacket, but the shirt's color was not a major part of the uniform. She had followed Duo's order and her gun was carefully positioned in the holster that rubbed against her ribs in a strangely comforting manner.
The house before her matched the others along this street. It was larger than most common households, but not overly. The lawn was obviously well taken care of and the owner had a green thumb from what she could see of the garden. Her feet carried her to the door where she politely knocked three times before waiting patiently. What did this guy have any ways? His colleagues had merely shrugged and made guesses. One had been helpful in explaining he'd complained of a sore throat before calling in sick the next day.
Kristin frowned as minutes passed and the door stayed closed. She knocked again, a bit harder this time, eyes narrowing behind her glasses. What if he was too sick to come to the door? Her hand reached for the doorknob and it turned easily in her hand. The door opened quietly, lacking that cliché creak that movies so loved. "Mr. Guinn? Witt Guinn?" The house was dark and there was a strange smell to the air…
She was reaching for her gun, fumbling with the zipper of her jacket, when she heard the click. It came from her right and her hand had finally made it inside the jacket, the hilt of the gun in her hand. She spun around, yanking the weapon free and pointed it at the shadows. "Arms up and step out slowly." The figure complied and her eyes widened. "What are you doing here?!"
A dry chuckle escaped as the figure smiled. "I'm sorry, but this is one of those at the wrong place at the wrong time situations." Kristin didn't have a chance to react as the figure threw something in her face. She screamed, dropping her gun, as she raised startled hands to her burning face. The figure calmly kneeled, picking up her discarded gun, and aimed it at the woman. She was obviously in pain as she clawed at her skin. They were doing her a favor.
She didn't even flinch as the bullet lodged into her skull.
*
Wufei's stern gaze caused the scientist to fidget as he focused on the screen before him. The Chinese Preventer had entered the lab two hours ago. He'd had to deal with the crew's outraged remarks at having to be watched as they performed a simple lab test… But his disapproving lecture on their behavior had quickly stopped that and they had since lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
"Are those the results?" He asked, causing the scientist to jump, as he eyed the green lettering flowing across the monitor. Images of DNA strands twisted in the lower left corner, four strands… Two matches of fingerprints had been most dominant on the plain silver pen.
"Yes, sir."
"Identities." He ordered and fingers flew across the virtual keyboard before two full-length images appeared. At first, the images were digital lines just featureless bodies revolving as information appeared beside them. Then more details were added, until one image showed one Michael Trisp looking smug in a white tailored shirt and tan pants and the other image…
Chang Wufei pulled a small gray phone from his jacket pocket and raised it to his ear. "Card, new evidence has just been released. Bring Midii Une in for questioning."
*
Catherine threw her arms tightly around the surprised Duchess as she entered
the quiet trailer. Dorothy tensed; her hands reaching up to shove the other
woman off then she realized Catherine was whispering something. "I'm sorry,
Lav. I don't know what I said, but I'm sorry." She stepped back, her hands
on Dorothy's shoulders, "I didn't mean anything by what I said, Lavender."
Dorothy's lips twitched then a small, genuine smile appeared on the Duchess's
face. She reached up and gently took Cathie's hands, removing them from
her shoulders, and gave them a slight squeeze. "I'm fine, Cathie. It wasn't
you. It was me." She licked her lips, dropping Catherine's hands; "I dwell
too much on the past at times." Dorothy looked toward the floor, walking
around the now silent woman.
"Well," a grin easily appeared on the light-hearted knife-thrower's face,
"we've got a performance in a few hours." Worry returned to her features,
"Lav, will you… Will you be able to handle the bar after what happened?"
And this brought her back to what had caused her brief escape in the first
place. "I'm positive, Cathie. I just need to go over some details with
Trowa. I'll see you then." Dorothy grinned widely, flashing a peace sign
as she opened the door and disappeared outside. For a second, she stood
there, staring at her hand with its two fingers standing in a V. She smirked,
"Somehow, I cannot imagine the pacifistic Relena doing such a thing no
matter it's meaning." Barton was walking by when she announced this and
glanced at her with his usual expressionless face, the emerald eyes glittering
dangerously. "Do you remember yesterday's performance, Trowa?" Dorothy
leaned against Cathie's trailer nonchalantly, the image of the perfect
seductive predator. "The manager would like a repeat of it today. Think
you can handle it? Or is it too much for you?" She nearly purred, arching
her body suggestively as she pushed away from the trailer.
He nodded, but made no move to continue walking. She raised an eyebrow,
then smiled slowly. Dorothy took a step toward his still form and placed
a hand on his chest. "Think you can handle me, Barton?"
"Is this it then?" Trowa asked softly, his eyes not focused on her but
over her head, and he sounded as if he were speaking more to himself than
her. "You act as if nothing happened?"
Dorothy tried to ignore his words by raising to her tiptoes, her lips brushing
against his ear as she whispered. "Nothing has happened, yet."
He surprised her. Usually he'd push her away or mention Quatre, but instead
all he did was step back and stare down at her… Then he spoke again, so
quietly that she nearly missed his words. "Have you ever been in love?"
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she saw no reason in lying when he
already knew the truth. "Yes."
He nodded again and his feet resumed their short trek to his trailer.
"Why, Trowa?"
Trowa reached his door and placed a hand on the knob.
"Trowa, why?"
He turned it.
"Trowa, why, damn it!?"
Trowa Barton walked inside and closed the door, ignoring Dorothy's yells.
*
Duo Maxwell stared at the woman across from him, Chang Wufei standing behind
him. The interrogation room was a tiny cubicle, a metal room with a two-way
wall that allowed Quatre Winner and Robert Card to also watch the scene
without Midii realizing they were there. The woman in question was smoking
her face wreathed in gray smoke, a pair of sunglasses perched upon her
wispy blonde hair. She removed the cigarette from her light red lips and
blew out a cloud of smoke.
Duo leaned forward; the tiny table the only thing between him and Midii.
"The pen, Midii. Why did he have your pen?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes as she shoved the cigarette into the table,
putting it out easily. "I didn't know he had my pen. I was too angry at
him to notice."
"What do you mean? Why were you too angry?"
Midii licked her lips, already missing her dead cigarette. "We argued about
things… He wanted me to get him parole. I wouldn't. He said something and
I pushed him. I was so angry that it would've been easy for him to grab
the pen off me." She stared at her nails, each one a perfect oval covered
in emerald green polish… Like his eyes…
"You saw the pen later, though. You knew we were conducting tests to figure
out who'd owned it. Why didn't you say something?" Duo's violet eyes never
left her face as he watched her closely, searching for any detail that
might give something away. The fact of the matter was no matter what the
other Preventers thought; Duo's team was closely watching Michael's death.
Michael's death and the message left on the wall hinted at only one thing:
Dorothy was in danger.
"I had reasons…" Midii peered through long lashes at Duo.
"Midii, right now those reasons don't mean crap. Why did you stay silent?"
She mumbled something and Wufei raised both eyebrows. "What, woman? Speak
louder."
Midii glared at the Chinese Preventer, "I was scared." She glanced at Duo
and swallowed, "When I saw that it was my pen… And I was already one of
the suspects. I knew everyone would believe I did it then. I… I thought
I could think of something, some way of telling you before the results
came out, but…"
Duo nodded slightly, "Yeah, I could believe that. I can even understand
that." She looked at him, hope clear in her expression. A twisted grin
appeared on his face, "But we both know that's not the truth. Dorothy told
me about you, Miss Une. You're as good an actor as she… And as great a
professional." Something flickered in those dove gray depths. "Now, I know
Dorothy and she knew you. I trust her more than I do you. Someone that
trained with the Duchess wouldn't take so long to realize a possession
was missing. You knew he took it as soon as he took it. Now, Midii, tell
me the real reason you didn't tell us it was your pen."
Silence grew as Midii's wide eyes continued to look into Duo's violet…
Then suddenly her eyes narrowed. "Fine. I knew he had my pen." She looked
away, "Because I gave it to him."
"What?!" Wufei yelled, but a motion from Maxwell quieted the man even if
he did still glare.
"You gave it to him." Duo leaned back, his voice calm and soothing. "Why,
Midii? Why give it to him when you'd just argued?"
"The guard heard us. It was an act. The entire argument. When I pushed
him, I shoved the pen into his hand." Her tone was now weary and from the
way she slumped, it was obvious she'd given up lying.
"I thought Michael hated you?"
She barked a bitter laugh, "Michael and I… We had a fling, I guess you
could call it. When he came to Une to help her we met and… Sparks." A tear
sparkled in her eyes and slid down her face. "It wasn't fair. Him going
to jail while I got off scot-free. He didn't do much so I… I didn't want
to see him go to jail. He was going to escape during the chaos and I'd
meet him somewhere in space. A new identity would've been created and we
could be together." More tears began the steady journey down her pale,
elfin face.
" 'Escape during the chaos'? Midii, how did you know there would be a distraction
for him to escape?" A deadly purr had entered Duo's voice and Midii stiffened
as she forced herself to face him.
Then anarchy exploded as she sobbed wildly, "I didn't mean to kill him!
It was just to be a small explosion! I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"
Duo watched her cry with cold eyes.
*
The performance went correctly and Dorothy reveled in the audience's applause
and cheers. She smirked arrogantly, for a second she was back in her element.
It wasn't till Trowa's gentle tug on her hand forced her to leave the ring
that Dorothy realized something. She missed Romefeller. She missed the
political meetings, the cameras flashing, the reporters with their endless
questions. She wanted to go home.
Four days. She'd spent only four days at this circus. Why did it feel like
so much longer? Everything was so quiet here. She hated the lack of information.
Living life as a civilian didn't suit her. She wanted to go home.
Home… Since when did it truly become home? She tilted her head at the idea,
savoring the feeling of homesickness. It was a strange feeling. She missed
her mansion with its elegant furnishings. She missed her bedroom with its
silk sheets. She missed Jarella, Marilene, and Robert.
"Lav, what's up? You look so…" Catherine smiled, "Happy. You're glowing."
And most of all… She missed…
"I'm fine, Cathie. Perfectly fine."
She missed her life.
Dorothy watched as Catherine and Trowa left to perform and she stepped
into the light. A few people stood around outside, parents taking children
to the bathroom or to get candy and balloons. A few pointed toward her
in her golden costume and she waved before ducking into the supply tent
and changing into an outfit borrowed from Catherine. Once makeup was wiped
off, Dorothy made her way into town.
Prove to me, she thought as her sandals slapped against sidewalk. Show
me that it's okay.
She made her way to a small wooden bench outside a shop and sat, watching
the colonists that passed her. She watched as a group of teenage girls
walked past, giggling and laughing as they gossiped. A lone man in his
late-thirties passed her, a briefcase in one hand, and his lips kept forming
a memorized speech. A seven-year-old boy ran by, a panicked expression
on his face, and soon Dorothy watched as a wet and angry girl chased after
him.
She didn't know how long she sat there, just watching the people pass.
Her eyes never left the people as they walked by, not even glancing toward
her. The false light dimmed as hours rolled by and she patiently observed
the colonists. It wasn't till a familiar tall figure stopped before her
and offered a hand that she took her eyes away from the walkers. Dorothy
ignored Trowa's offered hand and stood on her own, waiting for him to explain
why he'd searched for her.
"Dinner's ready."
"Is that all?" She raised an eyebrow when he merely nodded. "That does
remind me of something. I can't cook, Mr. Barton."
"Many people can't. I doubt Cathie will suspect anything if you tell her
you can't."
"Have you ever been in love, Trowa?"
His lips seemed to twitch upward and she caught a hint of amusement in
his green depths. "Yes."
"What point were you seeking to make earlier with such a question?" It
was startling how quickly they'd reached Catherine's trailer and now stood
before it. Dorothy faced him, the air around her seeming to scream power
and arrogance. "Enlighten me, Mr. Barton. I do so hate to be left in the
dark when such a tantalizing mystery lies before me."
"Your story had some truth to it. I do observe more than live… But you
were wrong. I don't push you away because I'm scared to act on my emotions.
I push you away," he reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind one
pale ear, "because I don't love you nor you love me."
Dorothy knew of all sorts of ways she could answer his statement. She could
react as the politician, the spy, the temptress… But instead she merely
turned away and opened the door, "Dinner's waiting."
*
Quatre looked away from the crying Midii, thoroughly shocked by her confession.
Robert Card glanced at him as the Arabian left the room. The other committee
members had been too busy, leaving only him to watch this shocking turn
of events. Midii had planted the explosion to allow Michael time to escape…
Then Pagan's death and the pen were not connected to Michael's death. Everything
was so damn confusing.
"Mr. Winner, you have a call." He spun around to see he'd stopped in front
of the front desk where a secretary was smiling pleasantly at him.
"A call?" He walked over and the secretary happily moved aside so he could
see the vid phone. "Holly! How are you? Is everything okay?" Quatre's mouth
widened in a grin, "I haven't talked to you in months."
Holly returned the grin with a sheepish smile, "I know. I kept planning
to call, but recent events finally made me pick up a phone. I'm fine. How
are you?"
"I'm great, a bit tired, but great. What do you mean by recent events?"
Worry clouded his blue eyes, the eyes that nearly matched hers.
She smiled, "Oh, nothing terrible. I just ran into… Well, it was odd really.
I was walking to the market when I bumped into this woman. When she turned
around, I could swear she called me Quatre… But then she began speaking
in… well I'm not really sure what language it was."
"That's strange… What did she look like?"
"Oh, Quatre. It was a mistake! But it did remind me to finally call my
little brother." She flashed white teeth while Quatre grinned, but there
was a light in his aqua blue eyes and soon Holly groaned. "Quatre Winner,
don't give me that look!"
"I'm just curious, Holly."
She sighed, "Fine. She was pretty with shoulder-length blonde hair… And…"
Holly hesitated and forced a laugh. "It's going to sound strange… But she
had these… eyes… When she first turned around it felt like they were stabbing
into me…" Holly shuddered, "It was just my imagination, though. She was
just a pretty blonde, Quatre."
A hand seemed to close around Quatre's heart and a slight pounding seemed
to echo in his ears. Something… He could feel… something… "Anything else?
Her name, her clothes, her eyebrows?"
"Her eyebrows?" Holly blinked in surprise, "Quatre, are you feeling okay?"
"Holly, anything else?"
She sighed, "No. I mean, she spoke something but I couldn't understand
her and then this man came and took her away."
"A man?"
Holly grinned, "Yeah. A really cute guy with green eyes and the strangest
hairstyle; he had the longest bangs I'd ever seen. They completely covered
one eye! But he was cute…" She stared off dreamily for a bit before Quatre's
sudden silence hit her. "Quatre?"
"Holly, is the circus there?"
"Yes… How did you know?"
"I've got to go, Holly. Bye." He disconnected the connection and just stared
at the screen.
"When she first turned around it felt like they were stabbing into me…"
"Dorothy…" The hand around his heart tightened and he knew.
*