by Jess Angel
Dorothy Catalonia stretched lazily on her king sized bed as another day began. Her white hands smoothed over wine colored silk sheets. She smiled, satisfaction clear on her face as she surveyed her quite large and extravagant room. It suited its owner quite well, proper for one baring the Catalonia title.
Rising, she went directly to her daily routine. Though the wars were over she still had the Romefeller Foundation to manage. She also supported Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian's peace campaign in her own way and money, of course. She had learned to accept that it was now peace's turn to reign and for wars to fade into the background. But she was more than sure that wars would return to bring another reign of terror. Probably not in her lifetime but she would make sure of that just in case. As long as she was alive, it would not sneak past her watch.
And she planned to live a very long time.
Did that mean she hated war? Not necessarily, she still clung to it like the young girl she'd been -- the girl that thought she loved war. War was her passion, and passions die hard.
She believed that was all she was - war. When everything ended she didn't know what to do. All she thought was centered solely on war and its seemingly endless battles. 'Much like soldiers,' she thought. 'All they know is fighting, and all I know is fighting back.' Dorothy shook her head from the thoughts. She couldn't think right now. There were things to be done. All it would do is confuse her and she'd start doubting herself. And Dorothy never doubted herself. Never.
Getting into her black corvette, she speedily left her estate.
The day had gone as planned. Dorothy was a master at control, and she knew how to handle just about anything. Romefeller was currently just as successful as it had ever been years ago. Yet now it was an honest and decent place that truly wanted peace for colonists and people alike, she had made sure of that.
But Dorothy was still Dorothy, confident, blunt, and even now, ruthless. Not even four years could change that.
Exiting out of the Foundation's building, she decided to walk to an ice cream shop just a few blocks away. When Dorothy entered the quaint little place, she found it only with a small number of customers, thankfully. Small, crowded areas had a tendency to feel suffocating, especially to her.
Third in line, she pondered shortly over her choice and decided to simply get chocolate ice cream on a cone. She watched as the rather tall blond man in front of her received his own order and heard him politely thank the worker. Dorothy rolled her eyes as the woman stuttered a 'your welcome' then turned an interesting shade of red.
As the man turned to leave, they caught one another's eyes.
"Miss Dorothy?" A surprised familiar voice reached her ears.
Her body froze like ice, it couldn't be. It couldn't.
Oh, but it was, she realized as she studied the person in front of her. Collecting her rather scrambled thoughts as fast as only Dorothy Catalonia can she then gave him a sickening sweet smile. "Why Quatre Raberba Winner! What a pleasant surprise!"
Quatre Winner smiled brightly at her then answered, "Yes, it's nice to see you again as well, Miss Dorothy. I haven't seen you since…" His smile grew faint and his voice suddenly became silent.
Dorothy gave him her trademark smirk and… what was that? It almost sounded like a gulp to her. She had the urge to laugh at the poor Arabian. Afraid was he? Well he had a good reason to be. "Ah, Libra wasn't it? We did have quite a bit of fun there, didn't we?" She looked to him.
He cringed slightly. "Quite."
Dorothy examined his order. 'Vanilla, how appropriate. Pure, wholesomely good, and in a way, an appearance of innocence.' It described him perfectly. It reminded her of the saying "You are what you eat."
She thought of her own order. 'Chocolate. Sinfully delicious, not so wholesome, and in no way appearing innocent.' That was definitely her. Her musings suddenly came to a halt.
"Dorothy, since it's been a while, would you like to accompany me for a walk? That is, if you have no other plans, of course." He smiled courteously, hoping they could get off the topic of her nearly killing him.
She raised an eyebrow. "Why Mr. Winner, are you asking me out on a date?"
The blond heir felt the blood rush to his face. "I -- I wasn't implying anything at all. I was just asking if you would care to spend some time catching up."
"No reason to be bashful about it. All you needed to do was ask," she then turned to order her ice cream.
Quatre gave an exasperated sigh. He could never understand what exactly she was trying to accomplish.
Dorothy took her dessert smugly from the worker and paid with a ten-dollar bill. The woman had noticed her antics to the Arabian and had simply glared at her as she thrust the dessert forward.
"Keep the change," Dorothy smirked then turned to back to Quatre.
They strolled through the streets in silence for a while, each making their own evaluations of one another.
The Winner Heir did quite a bit of growing up since she'd last seen him. Back then she knew that most girls thought Quatre more than passable in looks. But if they had seen him now, she knew they'd be lying in puddles of their own drool. She really didn't blame that poor young lady at the ice cream shop. Yet she had seen her share of good-looking men. She was Dorothy and that meant she should be immune to him. …Then darn it why wasn't she? She found herself glancing at him more than should be appropriate. Naturally she didn't let anything go amiss, but she couldn't keep it up forever. If she didn't get a grip soon then he would notice, Quatre or not. Knowing that made her extremely irritated because that meant that she wasn't in control, and she was always in control.
Well, Dorothy was pretty much herself. He could sense that she'd come to terms with some issues in her life. …But she was still clinging to something. His link with people had magnified through the years, but he never thought that it would have ever been able to identify with Dorothy Catalonia so strongly. He remembered how he had tried in vain on Libra to convince her of her own kindness and the futility of war. Had she at last found that out? He had prayed over the years that she'd been able to find peace.
He'd also heard about her generous contributions to Relena's peace campaign. He sincerely hoped they were genuine. One could never be sure with her. It was really good to see her though. Throughout the years he had caught glimpses of her here and there during the several meetings he'd attended for updates on the World and Colonies status. But they had lasted only mere seconds.
Actually that wasn't true, he'd seen her once longer. It was during a ball that some delegates were holding to celebrate the second year of peace. She hadn't stayed more than fifteen minutes and had spent most her time conversing with Relena. He had been talking to some political big shot when the man had pointed her out at her arrival.
He was about to go over and greet her but a barrage of girls had suddenly blocked his every path. He had spotted that the other pilots were in similar situations. Each was dealing with it in their own individual way -- Heero giving death glares all around, Duo being as charming as ever, Trowa trying to get away with not so much as a word, and Wufei explaining the weakness of women and the dishonor they were causing him. After Quatre excused himself from the last of the bunch, she was nowhere in sight.
He had asked Relena but she had said that Dorothy had left early because of her dislike of prolonged gatherings.
Looking at her now, he saw that she seemed to be deep in thought. Her eyes were set straight in front of her and they appeared to be straining to focus ahead. "What are you thinking about?" he inquired as his eyes shifted to observe the city's scenery.
"Honestly, Mr. Winner… I'm thinking about you," she replied with a rather dangerous smile.
"Oh? What about me?" he replied, missing the smile.
"Age has matured you rather well. I've been wondering, are you single, Mr. Winner?" her face retained the same smile.
He blushed. "Yes, I am. I've never had much time to date with maintaining my father's business."
"Ah, yes. I know what you mean - running Romefeller has a similar effect on me. But it's such a shame that you can't even find time to date!" She watched as he reddened even more.
"It's really all right. I actually don't mind so much. We're only twenty, Dorothy. I'm sure that I'll have plenty of time to date later on, so don't-"
She interrupted, "Oh, by then you'll be an old spinster, Quatre! You must learn to live while you can. In fact, why don't-"
Spotting that dangerous glint in her eye, he interrupted and shocked her at the same time, "Dorothy, would you like to have dinner with me?"
Dorothy felt herself frown.
Quatre, she saw was grinning.
"You said so yourself that it's a shame that I can't find time to date. You also said that we're pretty much in the same boat. And you also said-"
"I know quite well what I said!" she snapped back.
His smile only widened. He could hear Duo now. 'Score one for the Q-man!'
'Calm down, Catalonia. You're losing it because of some kindhearted fool.' Dorothy had been about to suggest that she set him up with some of her acquaintances, but he just had to go and get one step ahead of her. No matter. She would go along with this little date of his. There was plenty of time to turn the tables. "You know what, Mr. Winner? I'd be delighted to."
Quatre's triumphant smile showed no signs of deteriorating. Dorothy bit her inner cheek. She really wanted to knock that grin off his face. He hadn't won yet. Her eyes gleamed with a secret smile.
He escorted Dorothy to her car. "I'll see you tonight at seven, if that's all right. I'm staying on Earth for three more weeks. You probably don't need directions to my estate here." He waited for her response.
"Seven is fine. And you're right; I have my sources to find your location." She nodded to him as he opened her car door.
He watched as the black car disappeared from sight. There was so much he wanted to know about that woman. Most people would probably want the smallest amount possible to do with Dorothy Catalonia, but for him it was different. Dinner wasn't just to get her frustrated; it was a way to get her to open up and talk to him. He knew that she would never ask for help. So without her even knowing it, he was offering.
Dorothy scrutinized the Winner estate located on Earth. She was vaguely impressed but who would expect less, especially from one running the Winner Corporation. She had found out that the Winners had several estates on Earth and on several Colonies also. Parking her car, she walked down the driveway to the front door. In a confident stride her satin high heel shoes clicked along the pavement. She glared slightly at the security camera that followed her every move.
After finally reaching the fifteen foot mahogany double doors, she rang the bell. She could hear the chime sound practically through the whole mansion. The door opened to reveal a very fine-looking Quatre Winner. He stood garbed in a black tuxedo, his halo of blond hair slicked back and with a smile; he offered her his hand.
"You look well," she voiced, while giving him a demeaning look.
Why was her heart pounding so fast? She had planned to come here, put him in a stupor and make him look like a fool -- not the other way around. The man looked like he was looking at one of his sisters! She saw nothing but pureness in those eyes. That both eased and bothered her.
"And you look beautiful," Quatre countered. He knew she probably knew that already. But Allah was she stunning! Her long mane shone like sunshine; it looked brushed to perfection. Her dress, a dark velvet emerald that hugged her curves subtly. Slits on either end came to her mid knee and emerald straps showed glances of creamy shoulders. She was every inch a lady in his eyes even with her brash ways.
To both their surprise she replied with a quiet, "Thank you."
He felt his heart ache with hope. "You do," he affirmed and squeezed her hand slightly. He thought he saw a slight coloring in her cheeks, but it left as soon as it had come.
Her suddenly sharp voice then startled him. "We're not going to stand here all night are we? There are better things I could be doing, Mr. Winner."
He felt a pang inside but managed to keep up a smile. "Of course not, shall we?" He offered her his arm.
Taking it, Dorothy let him lead the way.
Dorothy's inner voice berated her as they made their way down the corridors of the Winner manor. Her tongue, for one of the few times in her life, had failed her. Things were not going how she would have liked.
Where had that little meek voice come from? 'Pathetic!' her mind screamed. Her heart, on the other hand, had a dissimilar view. Pushing everything raging within her aside, she watched as Quatre opened a door to uncover a cozy room with a charming little table set for two. A crystal chandelier hung elegantly on the ceiling and to complete the ensemble a rose, of course, graced the center of the table.
Pulling out a chair, Quatre waited for her to take her seat. Glancing around briefly she made her way towards the table. Taking his own seat across from her he tried to lighten the distant mood. "I told the cook to bring our dinner out in an hour so we could have some time to chat. It's been such a long time, I've always wondered how you were doing after the wars."
There was a knock on the door.
"Yes?"
A deep voice responded, "Master Quatre, it's me, Rashid."
"Come on in, Rashid," Quatre replied.
Dorothy watched as a tall man entered the room.
"I just wanted to notify you that the Maguanacs and I are leaving now for the resource satellite on L2. We will return in about four days time."
Quatre nodded. "Right, take care then, and tell the guys I said bye. By the way, this is Dorothy Catalonia, a friend of mine. Dorothy this is Rashid."
The man gave her a pleasant smile. "Ah, so you're Dorothy. It's nice to meet you. Well, I best be going, Master Quatre. Be careful." Rashid turned to her again. "Miss Catalonia."
She waited for the click of the door. Turning to face him, she raised an eyebrow. "Been gossiping about me, Mr. Winner?"
His eyes widened. "No, not at all. I told him that we had some arguments in the past, but that's it. The Maguanacs can be a little protective, so I think Trowa might've informed him specifically how I was hurt on Libra."
She smirked. "Ah, the acrobat. I should have known. Tell me, how is your clown friend?"
"Trowa is fine. He still works at the circus with his sister, Catherine. I usually visit him once a month or so," he explained. "How about you Dorothy? How have you been these days?"
Taking a sip of water she paused. "Perfectly well, Mr. Winner. I, as you know, am head of the Romefeller Foundation. I supply the peace campaign with what resources I can. So you see, there's no reason to worry over Dorothy Catalonia. Well, nothing too significant to worry about."
The problem was he did worry, more than she thought. Sighing, he got up and switched on some soft music. He turned to her. "May I have this dance?"
She answered in a false tired voice, "Why not?" Rising, she made her way to him.
They swayed gently to the melody. Though her moves were graceful, he could sense the stiffness in her dancing. He put his head next to hers and slowed his movement slightly. His breathing resounded softly by her ear. Finally, he felt her relax completely. It was a little trick he learned from babysitting some of his nieces and nephews. It seemed it could work on just about anyone, if it worked on Dorothy.
She seemed completely vulnerable right now. Relaxed, her barriers were off guard. Maybe now was the time to get through to her, now was the time to act. There was a sharpening pain in his heart, her pain, so much of it. It invaded his senses. There was only one thing keeping her from relief.
"Let it go, Dorothy," he whispered trying not to disturb her calmed state.
She stiffened. "I… don't what you're talking about, Mr. Winner."
The coldness in her voice didn't even faze him. He wasn't about to give up on this so easily; he wasn't going to give up on her. Pulling away from her slowly, he then held her hands firmly in his hands. "Yes, you do, Dorothy. You just won't admit it. …You don't need it, Dorothy. Don't you realize that?" He found her eyes. " I know you accepted peace for the world, but now it's time for you to accept peace in your own life. War doesn't want you to actually live your life and be happy. War is what's keeping you from them. I know that you've been through a lot Dorothy-"
"You don't know half of what I've been through--"
"I know I don't. I don't pretend to know, but I do know that many people, including myself, have gone through many horrible and painful things in their lives, some more than others. And if you do want me to know, I'll listen. You don't have to bear everything forever." Couldn't she see? … "You don't have to do everything alone."
Quatre waited for her response, praying that he somehow gave her a piece of what she was looking for.
Was Winner right? Part of her said yes he was, another part of her said he was wrong and she'd regret this and fall apart if she even dared to try something so foolish. Oh God, she pleaded silently to the heavens, tell me what to do. She remembered her and father would always go to church. Back then she believed in something, in God. Her father had always told her to pray at night and ask God to help her be a good girl who would live for Him. But after her father died… Now look at her. Would God even care to hear someone who lost her way so far and long ago?
'He's right,' was only thing that she heard clearly inside her somewhere. Was it just her mind? Or what?
Looking into Quatre's eyes, she knew he was being sincere. He was Quatre after all, wasn't he? With everything that she'd heard from him and not from him, she saw and felt he was right. With utter confusion, yet also strength in her voice she asked, "How?"
He motioned for her to continue with a look.
"How am I supposed to let it go?"
He thought for a moment. "…The only way you know how. It will come from you."
She looked at him penetratingly. "Can I trust you?"
"Yes."
"Then," she hesitated. "Will you hold me?"
He nodded.
Quatre took her into arms, and they stood there for a few minutes in stillness. Then her body began to tremble lightly and then the movement became almost desperate. Dorothy lips parted slightly. A cry erupted from them.
"Shh, it's all right, Dorothy," he comforted and also soothed with other gentle words. His grip tightened, securing around her. "Let it go," he murmured over and over like some chant. Her cries became louder, and she fell into choking sobs that broke the air around her.
After awhile, she finally subsided into silence.
Quatre's eyes were blurred with tears. She had allowed him to witness something undeniably beautiful - the freeing of an imprisoned soul. And for it to be hers, it meant the world to him.
Stepping back she held his gaze. Two stray tears traced down the sides of her pale white cheeks. She turned her face away from him. But after a moment, she went to look toward him again, letting him see them stream down her face, showing him she wasn't ashamed that she was crying. Carefully wiping her tears with his thumbs, Quatre let his own tears fall. She did likewise wiping his tears. He gave a little sniffle.
"Don't be such a baby, Winner."
Quatre's mouth settled into a grin.
Then she knew it wasn't her mind saying he was right, and silently, she thanked the heavens.
There was a knock at the door.
"Yes?" Quatre questioned, gaining back his voice.
"Master Quatre, dinner is here."
·:·. Fin..·:·
Author's Note: I tried to keep Dorothy in character as much as possible. Kudos to all you authors who can get her character down right, especially Figgy (Go read her stuff! It's so good!). There's a sequel to this called "A Night's End." Comments and constructive criticism appreciated.