By West Wind
Rating: PG
Pairing: 4xC, 3xR
Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing characters.
I clean while my mind wonders back to the questions from yesterday, when the object of my thoughts enters the room on his way to his office. His special smile plastered across his face.
"Happy thoughts?" I can not help but ask.
He pauses on his trek and turns his smile toward me. I feel like a sun is flaring inside me radiating heat throughout my entire body and my knees feel like they will buckle. I manage to stay upright and nonchalantly place my hand on the back of a nearby chair to steady myself.
"You could say that," he replies with eyes dancing with mirth before disappearing into his office.
I stand there looking at the closed door he has disappeared through. With his absence, the room feels like it had dropped fifteen degrees, and I absent-mindedly rub my upper arms to fight off the chill. I force myself back to my job and finish cleaning the room.
After finishing up my morning tasks, I escape to my room.
"What is going on with me," I ask myself. "I can't be falling for him. He hurt Trowa, but Trowa has obviously forgiven him. You don't know what exactly happened or what was behind it. From what Mrs. Gilbert and Leah have said, he has been through some hard times. Well, we all go through hard times," I continue to argue with myself.
I shake my head gently and decide I need to do something active. I put on my exercise cloths and tennis shoes. I pull my hair back into a small ponytail before leaving my room. I head out the back door and ease into a jog around the grounds. I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping my pace steady. I push the perplexing thought from my mind and enjoy the well cared for grounds of the estate. As I circle back to the house, I near Quatre's office window. From a distance I can see the window is open and a figure is sitting on the sill.
"It is such a beautiful day out, isn't it?" Quatre asks as I move before the window.
I stop and agree with his assessment.
"Look, that cloud looks like a train," he points up as he leans out the window a bit further so he can see the sky.
I look at the cloud he indicated and hear the sound of something hitting the ground. I look back at the window and find Quatre missing. My eyes continue their downward movement to the rustling sound below the window. Quatre is in the process of standing up and dusting the mulch from the flowerbed off.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I lost my grip and fell," he says slightly embarrassed.
I laugh and am sorry I missed it.
"Oh, well, it is too nice a day to be inside anyway," he adds as if it covers his earlier error and smiles sheepishly at me.
"Master Quatre?" we can here Rashid's voice coming from the room I had been cleaning earlier.
I suddenly find myself pulled behind one of the near by shrubs as Rashid enters the room. Quatre places a finger to his puckered lips motioning for me to stay quiet.
"Master Quatre?" Rashid says again but is greeted with nothing but an empty room with an open window.
Through the shrub we can see his bulky form leaning slightly out the window. Rashid looks back and forth scanning the area for the errant company owner. Glancing over at Quatre, his eyes sparkle with playfulness. The larger man lets out a heavy sigh and moves away from the window. Quatre holds me in place until we hear the door shut as Rashid exits.
"Let's go," he says grasping my hand and hauling me with him.
After about three steps, I dig in my heels and force him to stop.
"What are you doing?" I demand slightly ticked at being abducted.
"Taking the afternoon off," he replies as if there was nothing unusual about it or dragging me with him. "Come on," he adds as he pulls with just enough pressure to get me moving again, "before they see us."
By now all sorts of questions are coursing through my mind, and I voice the most important one.
"But, what does that have to do with me?" I ask confused as I stumble along behind him.
"Oh, I guess they never mentioned my occasional disappearing act to you," he says thoughtfully before opening the door to the garage and entering. "Get in, and I will explain," he says opening the passenger side door of a convertible.
I am ready to be obstinate and stand beside the car with arms crossed.
"Please get in," he softly says.
I can see in his eyes that he so wants me to go wherever he is headed, and he smiles sweetly at me. After a few seconds, I find myself caving in and climb into the car. He shuts the door while I fasten the safety harness. He is quickly around the car sliding into his seat. He punches the button to open the garage door and starts the car. The radio instantly blares alive with a heavy beat pounding in the background. After throwing it into reverse, he pulls out of the garage, turns, and heads forward out of the drive. We are soon on the road, and I have no idea where we are headed. I reach over and turn down the volume and ask him once again why I am here.
"What does you taking the afternoon off have to do with me in a car with you?" I ask over the blowing wind from the moving car.
I try pushing back the whipping strands of hair away from my face uncessessfuly as I wait for a reply.
"Every so often, I decide I need to take a day off and do something fun," he starts with a quick glance at me. "Since it is more fun to do things with someone else, I grab whoever is handy when the mood strikes and take them with me."
"Your telling me you just dump what you are doing, grab the nearest person, and take off?" I question while waving my hand in the air to emphasize my words. "I guess I have to believe it, 'cause here I am," I answer my own question. "How often do you do this and who do you take?" I ask trying to remember anyone missing since I got here.
A slight smirk briefly touches his lips.
"Anywhere from every month to every six," he says. "Last time I took Enoch."
Thinking back I do remember a day several months back that Enoch was nowhere to be found.
"What do you want to do?" he asks me.
I look at him as if he is insane. He only chuckles at my confusion before he starts to clarify it for me.
"When I go on these holidays, I want to get away from work and enjoy life, experience new things. I find out what the person I am with wants to do and that is at least one of the things we do that day. With Enoch, we went to a demolition derby the last time. Leah wanted to go antique shopping. Mrs. Gilbert wanted to take a walk in the park and feed the pigeons. George wanted to go fishing. With Lee, it was a dance club. So what do you want to do?"
My mind is spinning as I try to take in the fact that my employer just snatch me away on a whim, and he seems to do it with all this staff.
"What about your work?" I ask almost as a diversion.
"It's a light day," he shrugs. "I took care of the important things this morning. Anything else Rashid will see to. He knows I will be back sometime."
"I'm not dressed for going anyplace," I say gesturing to my attire of sport top and spandex pants.
"Then we will go someplace where your attire will fit in," he says before making a turn.
He parks the car in one of the parking lots for the local park. We get out. I follow him down the one of the paths.
"Have you been here before?" he asks.
"No. Since taking this job, I really have not been anywhere outside your grounds," I answer.
"Really," he says almost in disbelief.
"I have been out a few times with the others, but not often."
"How is the job, and are you getting along with the others?"
"It's not bad. I am still getting use to not moving around all the time, and not having all the circus performers around. The others are great. They have made me feel welcome," I answer.
"I'm glad."
We walk on in silence for a bit before I gather the nerve to broach the subject of our past.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," I murmur.
He looks over at me bewildered with innocent blue eyes that I know have seen pain and suffering.
"When we first meet," I offer as clarification, "but, I just could not let him be hurt any more…" I say letting the last few words drift softly from my lips. "… I promised…"
The memories still could stir up pain, and I fight to keep the emotion from spilling out.
"I know," he says softly standing very close before me. "Come," he gently says offering me his hand.
I take in my surroundings and find we are at an edge of a lake with a paddle boat rental. Quatre appropriates us a boat after paying the man. I slip into one side of the front bench seat, and he pushes us off before hopping in. The few inches of water in the bottom of the boat splash over his shoes as he boards. He takes off his shoes and socks and places them behind us, and I follow suit. We start paddling out into the lake.
"I don't blame you," he says starting our conversation up again. "You had every right to yell at me. It was my fault he was in that condition," he says melancholically. "I should have never done what I did."
There are tears on the edge of his eyes. Sorrow and pain scream from their blue depths. What I see in his face almost takes me by surprise. My heart wants to cry with him.
"Did he show such remorse then?" I wonder as I think back. "I believe he did, but I was too wrapped up in being mad and protecting Trowa that I did not let it touch me."
"Will you tell me what happened?" I ask gently.
"Trowa hasn't?"
"No," I airily say.
We stop peddling and allow the boat to drift as Quatre tells me what happened.
"We, the gundam pilots, returned to space," he starts. "I went home to see about making amends with my father. While there, they killed him. The colonies killed him," he softly murmurs.
A once deep yet not fully healed pain is evident from his demeanor. I place my hand over the one he has on the rudder and give it a reassuring squeeze as I patiently wait for the story I have been curious about for years.
"I went mad with his death. There is no other way to describe it. I found the specs for the Wing Zero Gundam and built it. If I had only known…" he sighs with a gentle headshake of regret. "What I did not fully understand was how the Zero system warped the pilot if not properly trained. It took my current hatred of the colonies and magnified it, made me believe they were my enemy, and I set out to destroy them.
"After I destroyed a colony, Trowa and Heero were sent out in the Vayeate and Mercurius to stop me. Trowa came toward me as I warned him not to."
Quatre closes his eyes before continuing.
"I shot, hit his suit. After the beam hit, half the suit was gone. He tried to talk some sence into me even though he was in pain, but I was too full of grief and hatred to listen. Then Heero came to stop me. We fought and I tried to convince them that the colonies were now our enemies since they teamed up with OZ. Heero would not give up. I had Heero in my sights to destroy him. Trowa maneuvered his suit to block the blast, saving Heero and the colony. Once more he implored me to see the truth and the futility of the battle. Heero took his opportunity to disarm me. Heero ordered Trowa out of the Vayeate, which was on the verge of exploding. He told Heero he was right and it was the end of the line for him before he blasted off. I called after him when Heero attacked and forceed me into the airlock. I begged Heero to go after Trowa and save him. As Trowa moved farther from the colony, he spoke words that made it through my enraged twisted mind, and he asked me to be the kind boy he knew. Then his suit exploded. I moved to go after him when Heero pinned my Gundam to the wall. I asked him to let me go or Trowa was going to die. He only spoke the truth when he said it was my fault Trowa was gone. It was my fault. I was the cause of my friend's death,"
A tear rolls down his cheek at the memories. I cautiously brush it away only to find one traveling down my own cheek. He opens his sorrowful eyes and looks at me.
"So you have every right to yell at me and hate me for what I have done. It was my fault Trowa's ship was damages and he was adrift in space for so long. It was my fault…" he almost whimpers.
I realize he still has not forgiven himself and it is eating at him still. I pull him into a sisterly embrace cooing to him as his forehead rests on my shoulder.
"You know Trowa forgave you long ago," I say. "Maybe it is time that you forgive yourself," I suggest as I gently rub his back as the silent sobs, which are making him tremble, begin to ease.
"But how can I. I killed those innocent people," he stammers.
I place a finger on his lips to keep him from continuing on his path of self-loathing.
"Quatre, none of us can change the past. What's done is done, and we all do things that we regret. However, we must let the past go, move on, and take the lessons we have learned with us. Trowa was trying to save his friend and willing to give his life to do it. It was a sacrifice he chose to make, and it paid off. You came back to your right mind and found your equilibrium once more."
"But…" he continues to protest.
"It was war! Horrible things happen in war. We regretfully accept it and try to move on with our lives," I say tenderly.
"Do you forgive me?" he asks as if it is the most important thing in the world to him.
After getting to know him and hearing the story, I found I did forgive him.
"Yes, Quatre, I forgive you," I answer and place a light kiss of forgiveness on his cheek. "Now get over yourself and get on with living," I teased to break the heavy emotion laden air around us and splashed some water at him.
He retaliates and before you know it we are both in the lake treading water.
After getting back in the boat and back to shore, we wander the park some more. With my lightweight cloths, they dry quickly, unlike Quatre's heavier ones. His damp button down shirt clings to him like a second skin.
We walk in silence for some time just admiring our surroundings. Quatre sits on a bench, and I follow suit.
"Want some popcorn?" he asks motioning to the popcorn vender down the path not far from the parking lot Quatre's car is parked in.
"Sure," I say.
"I'll be right back," he says before taking off toward the man.
Quatre stops briefly at the car. He pulls out his phone and punches in a series of numbers. I can see him talking but can not hear what he is saying. He repeats the process once more before purchasing and returning with the popcorn and a satisfied look on his face. He hands me a bag of the exploded corn. I pop a kernel into my mouth and glance over at him as we sit on the bench. He has dried out quite a bit but still damp around the edges. The blond partial beard on his chin and the mustache he started to grow a few weeks ago is beginning to fill in and makes him look older and not so boyish.
"How does dinner and the theater sound?" he asks casually.
By now I am not letting anything this man does shock me.
"I don't think they would let me into the theater dressed like this," I point out.
He gives me a lopsided grin.
"That is why we are going shopping."
I sort of sputter at his statement but mentally shrug my shoulders in surrender. Today is going to be different from any other day in my life, and I might as well enjoy it. We make our way back to the car, and Quatre points the car toward the high end shopping area.
I can not seem to keep myself from gawking at the splendor and preciseness around us as we walk up the street after parking the car. Quatre chuckles to himself at my wide eye wonder. He opens the door to one of the stores and gracefully motions with his arm moving before his body indicating I should enter first. I enter with Quatre close behind me. A well-dressed woman approaches us.
"Mr. Winner, how nice of you to grace us with your presence," she greets Quatre as we enter the show room. "What can we do for you today?" she asks anticipation the business of an obvious well-known patron.
"We need an evening dress with all the trimmings for Miss Bloom here, and I need my spare suite, Mrs. Caroline," he says.
The woman thoughtfully places her hand to her chin while examining me.
"Where are you planing on going?" she asks.
"Dinner and the theater," he tosses out as he peruses the garments displayed on the walls.
"I have some dresses in mind," she says as she pulls me through a curtained doorway.
She hustles me into one of the changing rooms and calls to a few of her assistance. One moves off to see to Quatre, while the other brings the dress she was wanting. It is a metallic blue, off the shoulder, knee length dress. I pull the curtain closed behind me, strip off my cloths, and manage to slip the dress on. I emerge with dress on and Mrs. Caroline hands me a pair of shoes to go with it. After putting on the shoes, she escorts me back to the main room so I can see myself in the three-way mirror.
I stand before the mirror and slowly turn so I can see all sides as Quatre emerges caring a garment bag that he hangs on one of the stands ready for such use.
"That is nice," he says.
"Yeah, its nice, but it reminds me of my old performing outfit," I observe.
He only nods, and I am ushered once more to the changing room to repeat the process. The fourth one is a long black sleeveless dress. The bodice is tightly fitted to hold it up therefore it clings to my curves. A long slit up the left side allows me to move in the nearly strait skirt. Upon emerging, the assistance aid me in putting on long black gloves, they drape the black wrap over my shoulders, and help me on with the black shoes. They pull back the curtain so I may enter.
Upon stepping through the doorway, the look on Quatre's face is all I need to know this is the one. I step before the mirror to see what Quatre sees, and am shocked at how elegant I look even with the messy hair that is pulled up in a ponytail.
"I think this one is it," I say.
I change into my cloths and they package it up. When I return, Quatre is talking with Mrs. Caroline.
"I will have them sent there," she says. "Charge it to your account."
"That will be fine," Quatre agrees before turning toward me. "Ready to move on."
I take the arm he gentlemanly offers, and we make our way back out to the sidewalk. The next store he directs me to is a jewelry store. Unsure why we are here, I just start looking at contents in the cases. There are a variety of necklaces, rings, and earrings displayed. I slowly looked at each case while Quatre talked with the salesman. The man disappears briefly and returns with a box. He opens it for Quatre to examine. Inside is a large diamond teardrop necklace on a silver chain with matching dangling earrings.
"What do you think, Catherine?" he asks as he steps aside for me to inspect the items.
"They are very nice. Simple, yet elegant," I respond wondering for whom he was buying jewelry.
Maybe one of his sisters, or he might have a girlfriend. I sort of doubted that because there would be some whispering in the kitchen if he did. Every time he escorts someone to a function speculation fly among the staff. They all wonder if and when their employer will find a wife. The only one unaffected is Mrs. Gilbert. She just says, with a twinkle in her eye, it will happen when it happens.
Quatre finishes his transaction while I am lost in thought. He pulls me from my musings and off to the next location on his agenda.
We pull up in front of a large hotel. I find our location odd but hold my tong till I learn of our purpose here. A valet takes the car, the doorman holds open the door, and we enter the lobby. Quatre proceeds to the counter and address the attendant.
"I'm Quatre R. Winner, and I made reservations earlier today," he says.
I have to admit the first thought through my head was not favorable to Quatre. Anger began to build at the idea that he believed he could buy me a few trinkets and be able to have his way with me. As I open my mouth to say as much, the clerk's response penetrates through my displeasure.
"Yes, sir. We have your two rooms ready. Your items from Carolin's arrived earlier and have been placed in the rooms as asked," the clerk informs Quatre.
"Thank you," he smiles as he accepts the passkeys to the rooms.
My anger quickly ebbs at the news of two rooms. My hasty judgment was wrong, and I feel slightly embarrassed that I had believed that of him. He has never been anything but gentlemanly and courteous to me.
Once in the elevator he hands me one of the passkeys.
"I thought you might like to clean up before dinner," he explains.
"It would be nice," I say.
The elevator arrives at our floor, and we find our rooms. I open my door. Before I enter, Quatre turns from his doorway across the hall.
"Is two hours enough time?" he asks.
I indicate that it would be before disappearing into my room.
Hanging in the closet is a garment bag with a box below it. I unzip the bag to find the dress, wrap, and gloves hung neatly on their own hangers. After examining the bag's contents, I pick up the box and place it on the bed. The lid lifts off to reveal the expected shoes, but there is also black hose and underwear.
I snicker because of how everything seems to be covered. That feeling only increases as I move through the rest of the room. The vanity is stocked with all I will need to do my hair and face. The bathroom is stocked with useful items, as well.
I shower and put on the provided robe. I run the brush through my hair while I try to decide what to do with it. I look at the dress and try to imagine what would be best. I settle for piling my curls on top of my head with a few escapees around my face. I put on makeup and decide to paint my fingernails. I blow on them gently to dry them as I glance at the clock. My two hours were quickly slipping away, but I still had plenty of time.
Next is the hose and the dress. I struggle with the zipper for a moment before it is completely secured. I adjust the dress and smooth it out. I do not even recognize my own reflection as I stand before the mirror. I look almost gentle.
A knock at the door pulls me from admiring my image, and I open my door. Quatre smiles at me. He enters. The tails of his tuxedo sway with his stride.
"I'm almost ready," I say as I shut the door.
"No, rush," he says. "I'm a bit early."
In an unconscious movement he flips his coat tails back before sitting on the edge of the bed to wait. I retrieve the gloves and fumble with putting them on. I then swing the wrap around my shoulders and drape it over my arms.
"Ready," I announce.
"Not quite," he says as he pulls out the box from the jewelry store. "You have to complete the outfit with this."
He secures the necklace around my neck and hands me the earrings to put on. They finish the outfit nicely.
The evening was wonderful. Dinner was elegant, and the show superb. Quatre was always a gentleman. I can not remember ever having such a day before in my life. As Quatre drives us back, I glance over at him and smile. He is concentrating on the road before us, but he catches my movement. He looks at me briefly and returns my smile.
"Have a nice time?" he asks.
"Yes," I answer. It was a delightful day. Thanks."
"Thanks for coming with me," he says.
Trowa was right, Quatre was a very kind caring boy. That day he came
to the circus, I had allowed my anger to blind me to how deeply he was
hurt by Trowa's state. I had even let it carry over to when I saw him at
Trowa's and the day I discovered he was Mr. Winner. However, my time working
at his estate and today has changed that. He is definitely someone I would
like to call friend.