ILoveLucy

"Wah!"

"Oh! That Lucy," the young man chuckled.  "Always getting into trouble."

"Quatre!" an angry female voice howled from the front of the mansion, "you have some explaining to do!"

Quatre began straightening up the room in a panic. 'Oh no!  Iria's mad at me,' he thought while turning off the TV and hiding a half-eaten bag of chips.  'What did I do this time?'

            The young blond didn't have enough time to go through the list of possible offenses before his older sister stormed into the room.  "Have you gone stark, raving mad, Quatre?"   Iria bellowed before an expectant pause.

            "Um…yes?" Quatre ventured, looking up at his sister through his bangs, like a little boy caught eating sweets before supper.

            "Very well then, cancel the invitation, and we'll go to the doctor at once."  She always sounded so motherly.

            "Which invitation might that be?" a timid voice inquired.

            "The one to that fork-eyebrowed she-devil to join you at our estate in Spain while you're there.  What else would I be talking about?"

            Quatre sighed with relief and frustration.  "Oh, Iria, really.  Half the world knows I'm going to be there, so I have to throw a party, and I just thought I should invite her.  She lives near there, and we haven't seen each other in so long--"

            "Because she tried to kill you!  But, to be honest, that's not what bothers me…."  Quatre rolled his eyes.  "What bothers me is that I had to overhear it at tea, being talked up into a scandal by Julia Rothschild, that horrible gossip.  She made it sound perfectly illicit, and she's going to be at the party, picking apart your every move--"

            Before Iria's tirade could continue, Quatre growled and put his hands over his ears.  "I'm going to go pack now."

            The next morning, the society section of the newspaper announced the youngest Winner's departure from the L4 colony.  When he arrived n Madrid, Quatre had only moments in the estate before greeting calls and RSVPs began pouring in.  'Where's Dorothy?  At least when she gets here, I won't have to talk to these boring people.'

            Just then, the doorbell rang, and moment later Rashid entered Quatre's study.  "Master Quatre, Miss Dorothy has arrived," he announced as he opened the door to the young lady.

            Dorothy breezed in, wearing a white sun dress with her long blond hair trailing behind her.  She smiled widely and sincerely upon seeing Quatre, but there was that ever-present predatory look about her that taunted, "I'm gonna get you," whatever that meant.  In spite of looking like a wild cat, or perhaps because of it, she was beautiful. 

            Quatre's eyes glazed slightly, and his smile was a little goofy, if only for a moment. 'Stunning,' he thought as she approached him with her swift, graceful gait, arms open.  The two hugged briefly, saying hello, and Dorothy turned her white cheek for Quatre to kiss, which he did without hesitation.

            Pulling away from Quatre, Dorothy smiled and said, "Quatre Raberba Winner, how are you?"

            "Absolutely wonderful, Dorothy Catalonia.  And you?"

            "Splendid, but I must ask you a favor," she said, taking off her hat and walking toward Rashid.  "Fire your butler, here, so that I can steal him."  A deliciously wicked smile graced her lips.

            Quatre chuckled and looked toward his faithful servant.  Only he, who had known Rashid for years, saw a flattered blush form beneath the large man's thick beard.  "You must be joking!  I can't even get him to take a vacation."  Quatre's remark made Rashid blush even more.

            Then, with a twinkle in her eye, Dorothy said, "you give me no choice; I'll simply have to marry into the family."  There was a silent beat before, "good help is so hard to find these days," and there was light laughter.

            "Unless you want to take your vacation right now, Rashid, would you please bring us some tea?"  Quatre joked, already adopting Dorothy's jocular air.

            "Right away, Master Quatre.  Can I take your hat to your room with the rest of your belongings, Miss Dorothy?"

            "Yes, of course.  Thank you so much."

            And with that Rashid left the study to the two young blonds.  They examined each other appraisingly before resuming conversation.  "Please, do sit down, Miss Dorothy.  What shall we do today?"

            "Whatever you like, Master Quatre," Dorothy replied, sitting in an armchair and offering him a coy smile.

            "Well, there's croquet, horse back riding, boating--"

            "And death from boredom!  Let's go into town to the new bistro and listen to all the horrible gossip.  Some of it will be about us," Dorothy suggested excitedly.  Quatre only responded with an admonishing look.  "Don't be so dull.  Besides, I know the owner.  He'll put us behind some huge potted plant, so no one will know we're eavesdropping."

            "Oh, fine.  Tea, change, and go in for a late lunch.  You really are so persuasive.  But, over tea, let us discuss something non-scandalous.  Something like…."

            "Philosophy!" Dorothy interjected when Quatre paused to think.  Her eyes twinkled irresistibly at the thought of a lovely intellectual battle.  "Pick your poison.  Knowledge, death, the meaning of life, justice, morality, whatever.  You pick."

            Quatre was both horrified and enticed by the manic glitter in her gorgeous lavender-gray eyes. 'How can I resist?  But she'll make a fool of me, then I'll never have a chance.  Chance at what?'  At length he finally said, "no, not philosophy.  Do a tarot card reading for me while we have tea," thinking this idea was safer.

            Dorothy's lips parted into a feral grin, and Quatre knew he was doomed.  "Very well, Master Quatre, but first let's serve the tea.  Here it is."

            "Thank you, Rashid.  That will be all for now, except we shall be lunching in town in about two hours.  Have the car ready."

            "Yes, Master Quatre," Rashid said with a slight bow.  "Miss Dorothy," he added with a larger bow before leaving the study.

            "Well, Miss Dorothy, milk and sugar?"

            "Yes, please, two lumps of sugar," Dorothy said with a hint of something in her voice that made Quatre blush.

Author's notes:  This is going to be a long one.  I started it while I was reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, so if you've read that book you may be able see it's influence.  I don't think there's too much OOCness, is there?  I'm open to suggestions as to what direction I should take this.  This is my first fic EVER, but hopefully it won't be the last.  I'm looking for ideas for new fics as well as some one to run ideas by.  PLEASE review; I'm desperate for attention.  Thanks ~_^