I Dreamed of Angels
Part Four C
One week later found Mr. Barton before the
office door of Ms. Noin. Looking ready for battles despite the weary look on
his face, he straightened out his suit, adjusted his tie and prepared for the
oncoming fight for the boy named Quatre.
Mr. Barton found it absurd and absolutely
shameful that he was so easily manipulated by his son. He had told himself so
many times before that he'd end his boy's reign over him once and for all but
all previous attempt have been proven fruitless. Trowa always seemed to have
some greater power over him.
He sighed and looked at the door in front
of him.
"The evil boy's puppet." he murmured as he
knocked on the door.
When he was given permission to enter, he
turned the doorknob and sent his greeting to the person seated behind the desk.
"Good Morning, Ms. Noin," he said. "I
believe we have some business to discuss."
Ms. Noin stood up from her chair, taking
notice of one of her most frequent visitors, the one she would consider her
adversary.
"Good Morning to you as well, Mr. Barton."
She shook his hand and regarded his
companions.
"...and associates." she added.
"So we have some business to discuss, do
we? I'm sorry to disappoint you Mr. Barton but I think that this matter should
be handled in court. If you'll excuse me, I still have hopeful parents to
attend to."
She crossed the room and opened the door,
ushering her recent visitors out.
"Id rather we discuss this now," Mr. Barton
quickly interrupted before his lawyers stepped out of the door into the
hallway.
"If you'd prefer that we do this in court
with the greedy judges just itching for what I have to offer them then maybe we
should do as you suggested."
"Not all people can be bought, Mr. Barton."
Ms. Noin said while her hand still held on to the opened door, wanting to land
a good punch on the wealthy man's face.
"Oh?" the confident Mr. Barton asked. "Then
how would you explain the fifty couples over the ten year period that have
mysteriously refused to adopt Quatre Winner?"
"He doesn't need greedy parent. He will
always have us."
"Would you please define for me the word
'us'. I truly find it hard to comprehend that word when used in the context of
the orphanage. Sure, he will have you as long as you are the director of this
establishment and those little children wandering around this building will
always be his so-called 'family' as long as they aren't taken away by their
adoptive parents. Who will he have after all of you have gone? I have reason to
believe that you do not understand the complications of his situation."
"Who are you to judge this place, Mr.
Barton? Are you telling me that we should hand him over to you?"
"How long do you think he'll be this way,
kind and understanding? Your reluctance has done nothing but destroy his
self-confidence. How do you think a child would feel when rejected by dozens of
couples and thrown back to the one place that gave him no identity? Perhaps
what you have been doing to protect him has done him more harm than good."
"Perhaps. But let me inform you, Mr.
Barton, that no matter how many times you've bribed him into living with you
and your tyrant of a son, not once did he accept or even consider your glorious
offers. You see, Mr. Barton, he's found a place in his life with us that is
nothing you or your son could offer him."
"However, don't forget, Ms. Noin, that my
son holds a great deal of power over your boy. Why else would the obedient and
angelic Quatre Winner sneak into my estate in the middle of the night to visit
my boy?"
Ms. Noin fell silent. She didn't think that
Quatre would actually disobey her. Never had the boy done anything to anger
her, but now it seemed like he was slowly flittering away, slowly being sucked
into the influences of Trowa Barton.
She was dumbstruck as she kept her hand on
the open door.
"...and do remind me Ms. Noin," he added
while the silent woman fought the urge to give the man the satisfaction of her
defeat. "...isn't it true that you yourself along with his good friends have
been doing jut what you've been accusing my boy of doing? Haven't you been
claiming his as your own, branding him as the sweet, angel Quatre even if he
refuses to be seen as such? At least, Ms. Noin," he said as he adjusted his
cuffs. "...my son treasures him as his own without parading him around like
some precious idol."
With a now triumphant look on his face, Mr.
Barton signaled for his lawyers to leave some paper work on the table and exit
the room. When all twelve had left, he proceeded to the door and just when his
feet touched the outside, Ms. Noin said "Give my regards to your master," and
banged the door shut.
Mr. Barton fought the urge to weaken his
triumphant stance in front of his lawyers. Ms. Noin always had a way of saying
the least amount of words that struck him the most. Maybe he wasn't triumphant
after all.
Now it was time to go back to the hell he
called home and start arranging the money to be spent on luring in the
all-too-willing judges.
Ms. Noin, on the other hand, furious at her
recent defeat, kicked the wastebasket on the side of the desk, spilling its
contents all over the floor.
She remembered every word of the discussion
and refused to believe that Quatre had disobeyed her and refused to believe the
truth Mr. Barton had so eloquently put out before her.
"Damn those rich people!" she said as she
plopped down on her chair.
"I wouldn't dare brand Quatre based on any
angel images. Now, where's angel boy? He better be in his room like he said he
would."
Unknown to her, Quatre was actually miles
away from his room, currently sitting on a park bench with Trowa sitting across
from him.
Their books were scattered all over the
table with mounds of paper scattered here and there. Off to the side was a bag
filled with chips, sandwiches and packed juice.
Trowa huffed as he chewed on his sandwich.
He scribbled down some numbers on a paper and smiled when he got the answer he
was looking for.
"The answer of 'h of x' is 'x squared plus
nine,'" he proclaimed with much enthusiasm.
Quatre shook his head and got a blank sheet
of paper, scribbling down his own numbers and handed the paper to Trowa.
"That's how you do it." he said and
explained the process.
"The derivative of that function is the
derivative of the first times the second plus the derivative of the second
times the first. Didn't you say that you had it all down the other week?"
"Well," Trowa said, embarrassed "I got
bored so I just said I did even if I didn't."
Trowa looked down in shame. This did
nothing but cause Quatre to laugh uncontrollably with Trowa's questioning gaze
directed at him.
"Since when have *you* been shy, Trowa?" he
asked.
Trowa didn't answer but joined in the
laughter, realizing his pathetic display.
After composing himself, Trowa looked over
to his companion and said "You're so adorable when you laugh, Angel."
"It's Quatre."