Chapter Twenty-one
The first week was busy for both of them. Quatre had non-stop meetings with department heads, members of the board, and various relatives with problems, catching up on everything that had gone on in his absence. Leila learned the workings of the house, helping Iria with the management of the staff. In the afternoons, the two young women went out, visiting members of the family that lived nearby. The Winner family was large. Not only were there Quatre's multitude of sisters, but hordes of aunts, uncles and cousins of varying degree. They were also an informal bunch, as she learned during her second afternoon visit.
Iria was being grilled by her great-aunt, a spry old woman by the name of Sadiyah. She sipped tea calmly, her black eyes twinkling at her great niece's discomfiture. "So, when's the wedding?" she asked suddenly.
"I beg your pardon?" Iria asked, startled.
"I have to say, you've got good taste," her aunt continued on. "Rasid's a good man. Loyal, trustworthy. You could do a lot worse. I always did like the big strapping ones myself. If I were sixty years younger, I might give you a run for your money." Iria choked on her tea, eyes watering.
"And you," she turned her laserlike glare on Leila. "I had my doubts at first, but you're a nice girl. Presentable, even pretty; not proud, but not meek either. Men lose interest quickly in a woman that doesn't keep them guessing. Remember that." She paused to refill her cup, dropping in enough sugar to make a dentist cringe. A dollop of cream was added as an afterthought. "You'll have beautiful babies. And I fully expect you to bring them to see me." She thumped the arm of the wheelchair she was confined to. "I don't get out much."
After another hour of gossip and chitchat, the two said their good-byes and managed to escape. "Whew… I love her, but she's a bit much at times," Iria said as they relaxed in the car on the way home.
"I kind of liked her," Leila said with a grin.
"She's something else, I'll give her that," Iria admitted. "I guess when you get to be her age, you can pretty much say what you want. She told me once that she didn't have time to beat around the bush anymore."
"How old is she?" Leila asked, curious.
Iria pursed her lips and thought, doing some mental calculations. "She's… ninety-four? Ninety-five at the most. Getting close to a hundred."
Leila was awed by the idea. "Imagine all the things that she's seen!"
"Oh, yeah, she's got some great stories. I've been meaning to get a recorder and sit down with her. It'd be a shame to lose all of that," Iria said. "So, what's for dinner tonight?" she asked in a quick change of topic.
"A nice herbed soup, chicken parmesan, a green salad. Nothing heavy, and besides, Quatre asked for the chicken. He said he wanted some pasta," she chuckled. "Oh, and Cook made a gorgeous three layer torte for dessert."
"Mmmm…." Iria licked her lips at the thought. "I'll miss his cooking when I move out. I'm not the greatest cook in the world. Poor Rasid."
"So, have you set a date?" Leila asked as the car pulled to a stop before the large mansion.
"Not yet," Iria admitted. "Rasid wants to wait until we get this situation with Ahmed out of the way."
"I see," Leila said, opening the door before the chauffeur could come around and do it. She gave him a smile as she exited the vehicle and he couldn't help but to smile back. Such a sweet girl, the older man thought as they two women went into the house.
The staff had quickly come to like Master Quatre's new wife. She wasn't demanding or spoiled, and hadn't turned the household upside down with unreasonable requests. She ran things with a firm hand, but was friendly with everyone, from the gardener to the cleaning staff. She didn't treat any of them as if they were below her. One of the girls had heard her saying to Miss Iria that she considered the staff and herself to be a team, that they worked together to make sure the house was run smoothly.
Heero joined them for dinner. He was still in the process of upgrading and examining all of the company's computers. And looking for a way to tie Anton Romus into the illegal mobile suits. He hadn't had much to say as he concentrated on his dinner, but Quatre was telling Iria, Rasid and Leila about the antics at his office. The butler came in, bearing a phone and discretely cleared his throat.
"A call for you, ma'am," he said, extending the phone to Leila. She looked puzzled for a moment, then took the phone.
"Leila Winner speaking." Quatre couldn't help but to smile when she said that. It still felt a bit strange to hear, but at the same time, he couldn't imagine anyone else more perfect to bear his name.
"Ilona!" Leila exclaimed, smiling brightly. "How are you?"
"Leila! I've m-missed you!" Ilona's voice came clearly through the phone, distance making no difference. "I w-wanted to call you before, b-but Seri wouldn't l-let me."
Leila began to frown. "Is she being difficult, dear?"
"N-no, not anymore that usual. S-she's been ignoring m-me lately."
Leila began to drum her fingers on the table. "How's Melan?" she asked, curiously.
"M-melan's g-gone," Ilona mumbled miserably. "Seri got r-rid of her, r-right after you l-left." She gulped back a sob.
Leila stood up abruptly. "What?!?" Quatre looked up at her outburst, surprised. She pushed her chair back from the table and went out into the hallway to finish her conversation. Several minutes later, she came back into the dining room, a disturbed look on her face.
"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching over to take her hand and gently rubbing his thumb across the top.
"Seri fired Melan," she said, not sure if she was near tears out of anger or sadness. "And she's been making Ilona miserable. I hate not being able to help her." Heero was paying close attention to the conversation, a slight frown on his face.
Quatre thought about the problem, wanting to come up with a solution to the problem. He liked Leila's little sister and had a great deal of respect for the loyalty and caring that Melan had shown to both of the girls. "What if," he paused, gathering his thoughts. "We invite your family to the party next week?"
Leila stared at him, thrown by the change of topic. "What party?" she asked in confusion.
Quatre gave her a mischievous grin. "The party we're going to throw to introduce you to my family members. I know you've been going out with Iria and meeting them, but this will give everyone an excuse to get together. We'll use the largest ballroom, make it casual, but not too casual."
Leila was starting to catch on. "That's not a bad idea."
Iria grinned. "No, it's not. In fact, I think it's a wonderful idea. It'll let everyone get a look at Leila in a friendly setting, and no one can complain about being snubbed."
Heero looked back and forth at each of them, like a spectator at a tennis match, a slight grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Leila turned to her sister-in-law, "Iria, you'll help me, won't you? I've no idea who to invite or how many to plan for."
"Sure thing, kiddo," Iria said, patting her shoulder. "I have the family addresses on computer. And we'll tell Cook after dinner and he can put together some menu plans and we'll work on it tomorrow."
"I'll have Rasid find Melan," Quatre promised. "And offer her a job here. If we can talk your father into letting Ilona stay for a while, she'll need a companion."
Leila smiled, touched by his suggestions. "We'll make sure the party goes off without a hitch," she said, making a promise to herself. This would be the best party ever seen in the Winner mansion. She would make Quatre proud.
Any household staff loved gossip and the staff at the Winner mansion was no exception. News about the party was out before the invitations were even printed, much less delivered. It was all the buzz around town that the young head of the Winner family was holding a party to introduce his new wife to his family. The few that had actually met Leila didn't hesitate to share their opinion of her with anyone they talked to. All in all, everyone thought she was a very nice young lady, a perfect match for Quatre. The few who were less than pleased were dismissed as being jealous.
Ahmed was one of those less than pleased, but as he couldn't show his face without being turned in, he couldn't exactly do much. The few family members who had supported his claim several years ago didn't have all that much to say now when one of his representatives had approached them about continued support. Most of them had seen how well Quatre was managing the business and the family and had decided that their worries over his age and inexperience had been unfounded. All in all, the Winners were a fairly content lot.
Ahmed ground his teeth at the thought of his sheeplike relatives. They'd be sorry. They'd all be sorry. He'd make them all see that he would have been the better choice for the position of C.E.O. The vidphone on the desk shrilled and he almost jumped out of his skin. Clutching at his chest, he sat down at the desk and composed himself. He dreaded answering the call. He knew who it would be. And he wouldn't be pleased.
He reluctantly pushed the button to take the call, sitting back as the screen blinked to life. Romus' little flunky stood there, his pinched face looking most unhappy. "My employer didn't receive his shipment as scheduled, Mr. Winner. I don't need to tell you that he's most disappointed."
Ahmed could feel the sweat beginning to trickle down his back, despite the chill of the room. "There was a small problem," he began, wracking his brain for a believable explanation.
Derwint snorted. "You call the Preventers blowing our mobile suits into scrap metal a 'small problem'?" he asked, the tone of his voice more than a little sarcastic.
Sweat blossomed on Ahmed's forehead when he realized what the other man had said. "The Preventers?" he gasped. "How did they know?"
"Someone got sloppy, I suppose," Derwint said, leaving little doubt as to who that someone was. Ahmed balled his fists at the implied insult. "It doesn't matter now. There's something else he wants. Take care of it and we'll forget all about the debacle with the suits."
Ahmed's eyes narrowed. Now what did Romus want? "Go on."
"We'd like to arrange a little meeting with the lovely Mrs. Winner," Derwint said smoothly. "You make that happen and you're free and clear. We don't care how it gets done as long as she's not injured in any way." He looked at something or someone out of the sight of the screen and nodded. "Make the arrangements, and get back to me with the details." The screen abruptly went blank, leaving Ahmed sitting in the dark. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, thinking hard. He had been planning something along those lines anyway. Perhaps he could use this as an opportunity to get back in his father's good graces. He liked the idea…
He would say that he had done it all to protect the family. He had been trying to get enough evidence on Romus to turn over to the authorities. He had found out about the plot against his cousin and had tried to help. He could be a hero if he played it all right. He closed his eyes, imagining the praise that his father and cousin would heap upon him. They would all look up to him for once.
But how to do it? Then it hit him. That family party was only three days away and would provide the perfect opportunity for someone to get in and snatch the girl. There would be extra staff on hand and all sorts of people in and out of the house. Security would be overwhelmed by the all the coming and going. He reached for the vidphone again to call one of his contacts.
After dinner, Quatre and the others had retired to the family room to chat and relax, Rasid and Zahra joining them there when they came in from their meeting with the Preventer team sent by Une.
"A party, Master Quatre?" Rasid asked, worry clear in his deep voice. "Wouldn't it be better to wait until after all this mess with Ahmed is cleared up?"
Quatre regarded the big man solemnly. "Yes, it would. But I've got family obligations to fulfill. And if word gets out on Ahmed's activities, it could make the problem even worse. I can't let my family down. Besides, between you, Heero, Zahra and myself, we should have the security well in hand."
"I just don't like it," Rasid said, a tight knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Something would go wrong. He just knew it; his gut was never wrong.
"I know," Quatre said, shaking his head. Leila looked up from the notebook she was writing in, concerned by Quatre's tone. He caught her eye and gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back and returned to her writing.
Heero looked up from his laptop, something suspiciously close to a sappy grin on his face. It disappeared when he saw Quatre looking at him with a grin of his own. "What're you working on, Heero?" he asked, unable to resist baiting his friend.
"E-mail," Heero replied shortly, hoping that Quatre would give up, but knowing it was unlikely.
"Oh?" Quatre just couldn't let it go. "From Relena? Tell her I said hi." He choked back laughter at the dark look on Heero's face. Leila and Iria snickered and Rasid even grinned.
"It's late," Heero said curtly. "I'm going up to my room." He shut the laptop with a little more force than necessary and strode out of the room. No sooner had the door closed behind him than everyone burst out laughing.
"You shouldn't have kept teasing him, Quatre" Iria said, shaking a finger at her younger brother.
Zahra grinned. "It didn't really take much, did it?"
"Not at all," Quatre said, delighted at having been able to get a reaction out of Heero.
Leila smiled from her corner of the sofa. Her notebook lay discarded on the sofa next to her and her eyes were getting heavy. She knew that she should go on up to bed so that she could get an early start in the morning, but she was enjoying the friendly atmosphere and just didn't want to move.
Quatre looked over right as her eyes slid shut. He couldn't help but to smiled tenderly and he rose to go to her side. Zahra gave Iria a nudge with her elbow and the two sisters watched with more than a small amount of pride as Quatre roused Leila gently and led her off to bed.
"He's doing so well, considering the situation," Iria said after they had left.
"Yeah, our baby brother is all grown up now," Zahra replied with a bittersweet grin. "I wonder if he realizes yet that he's in love with her?"
"I think he's perceptive, and honest, enough to figure it out," Rasid said, brushing a strand of hair off of Iria's shoulder.
Quatre supported Leila as far as the stairs, then picked her up and carried her the rest of the way, ignoring her groggy protest. By the time he reached their suite, she was dozing again, her head pillowed in the crook of his neck. He managed to hold her close with one arm long enough to get the covers on the massive bed pulled back. He deposited her gently, pausing to pull off her loafers and sit them next to her nightstand.
He sat down next to her, pulling her blouse out of the waist of her casual slacks, then went to work on the tiny buttons running down the front of the garment. He was able to maneuver her arms out of the blouse and he tossed it through the open door of her dressing room. The slacks soon followed. It would give the maid something to do in the morning. He couldn't help but to notice how fetching she looked, lying there in only her lacy undergarments. He ran a curious finger over the scalloped lace cupping her breast, and was rewarded by the instant tightening of her nipples. With a slight grin, he ran his index finger down the plain of her stomach, watching the trail of goosebumps that appeared. She murmured something in her sleep and arched her back slightly.
Quatre leaned over to kiss her gently, tracing her lips with his tongue, dipping into her mouth when she sighed. He slid an arm under her shoulders, raising her enough to reach the clasps of her bra. He struggled with the annoying thing for several seconds before managing to unhook them all. He balled it up and threw it across the room, not caring where it landed, then stretched out next to her, running a hand down the length of her body.
He wondered if perhaps he should be doing this while she was asleep. What if she woke up and was angry with him? Leila unconsciously solved his dilemma by rolling against him and throwing her leg over his. He felt her nipples tighten even through the material of his shirt and he yanked it off as quickly as he could without disturbing her. He sucked in a harsh breath when their bare skin made contact and he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. It was like slow torture.
He found her lips kissed her again, slowly, taking his time. He traced the shape of her face with his hand, memorizing every line and curve, then his mouth followed the path his hand had mapped only moments before. She was as responsive asleep as she was awake, her breathing quickening and escaping in little puffs. He ran his mouth down her cheek, and then down the slant of her jaw, finding the rapid pulse in her throat. He nipped and licked at the delicate flesh, then blew gently across the wet skin, watching as she shivered. He saw that she was wearing the earrings that he had bought her while in London, little crystal stars that caught the light and twinkled when she moved her head. He couldn't resist capturing an earlobe between his teeth, toying with it before pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She inhaled deeply, making her breasts press closer to his bare chest.
Quatre was enjoying himself. They had both been so busy lately that they had fallen into bed every night with little more than a chaste kiss before going to sleep. He found that he had been missing their intimacy. He kissed his way down her chest, cupping one of her breasts in his free hand while his mouth found the other. He traced circles around the areola with his tongue, quickly flicking the tip of her nipple before moving to the other. He treated it with the same ministrations, before pulling the taut nipple into his mouth and suckling at it gently. He could tell by the rise and fall of her chest that she was aroused. Her breathing was ragged and sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead.
He continued to toy with her breasts using his mouth, his hand sliding down under the waistband of her panties to find the nest of curls between her legs. One finger dipped in to find her already hot and wet. He grinned, pleased with the knowledge that he could to that to her, even in her sleep. He stroked her with his finger and she moaned, her back arching and hips moving slightly. Quatre sat up to look at her, struck anew by her beauty. He tugged the scrap of silk and elastic down her hips, baring her completely to his eyes. The underwear went flying off across the room, his tan slacks soon following. Clad only in his boxers, he knelt at her feet, running both hands up the smooth length of her legs. He parted her knees, moving between her thighs. He teased her breasts again with his tongue, then trailed kisses down the line of her stomach, past her navel, until he reached her most private area. He paused, looking up at her face. Her eyes were still closed, but her mouth was open, her breath escaping in little pants. He couldn't help but to continue. Taking a deep breath, he moved even lower, hooking his arms under her legs and then he parted her folds with his hand.
His first taste was quick, almost reluctant. Then, when he realized that Leila had stiffened immediately, he glanced up, seeing her hands fisted into the sheets. He licked his lips and moved to taste her again. It wasn't an unpleasant taste, he thought, salty, slightly musky, but not unpleasant. He flicked his tongue against her nub and her thighs clamped around his head, a moan following. Emboldened by her reaction, he used his tongue against her, running it up and down her cleft, dipping in and out of her tunnel, before returning to suck at her hardened button. She went wild then, her hips thrashing so hard that he had to grip her legs tightly to avoid being tossed away. He continued with his actions, knowing that she was building to an orgasm. He tasted the rush of her juices just as she cried out hoarsely, tossing her head from side to side. He didn't stop until she had quit jerking, then he levered himself up on his elbows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Her face was flushed, sweat running down her temples, and dampening the sheets. Quatre smiled as he moved to cover her with his body. He reached for the waistband of his shorts then paused. He just couldn't do it, not without her knowledge. To continue would abuse the fragile trust she had in him. He sighed, then nuzzled her neck. If she didn't wake, he'd be in a painful state of arousal, but he wouldn't go any further.
"Leila," he whispered, feathering kisses across her jaw. "Leila."
She stirred slightly and groaned. "G'way," she muttered, arching up against him. "I w's dreamin'…"
He blinked. Dreaming? About what, he wondered. He leaned over to whisper in her ear again. "Leila, what were you dreaming about, sweetheart?"
She stretched languorously, like a cat in a patch of sunlight. "Quatre," she sighed. He thought she was saying his name at first, but then she continued. "He was touchin' me… and it felt so gooooood…" Her voice trailed off, but she spoke again. "I love it when he touches me… makes me feel so special….," she frowned slightly. "But… he stopped."
"Do you want me to continue?" he asked, amused by the half aware conversation.
"Mm hmmmm….," she moaned. "Yesssssss….."
"Leila," he said again, "look at me." Her eyelids fluttered and he could see her icy green eyes were darkened by passion. Then they slid closed.
"Quatre…." she sighed, her arms sliding up his back to pull him to her. He had held out as long as his conscious and his self control would allow. He managed to get the boxers down around his ankles and kick them off of the bed before burying himself in her wetness. He groaned as he pushed fully into her, unable to comprehend how he had been able to wait so long. He slid his arms under Leila's back, grasping her by the shoulders as he pumped into her. His bangs were brushing against her forehead, their noses almost touching as they both gasped for air.
"Quatre!" Leila called his name over and over as they moved together, straining for completion. "Oh, Quatre, oh, oh." He ground his teeth as he felt her muscles clench and release. He was so close to losing it…
Then it hit him, sending him over the edge. He let out a shout, slamming against her, forgetting for once to be gentle. "LEILA!!" She shrieked, following him into ecstasy, her nails drawing blood as they raked down his back. It was several minutes before they could catch their breath. Quatre gulped air down his throat, his heartbeat slowing as he came down from the heights that they had reached. Leila still had her arms wrapped around his back, but she was breathing without gasping now. He was astonished to see that she was still asleep.
He rolled over to his side, not wanting to crush her. She was so delicately built. He looked up at the ceiling, mind still trying to function. He blinked, realizing the light was still on. "Lights out," he called, plunging the room into instant darkness. He made the effort to sit up and tug the blanket over their cooling bodies, pulling Leila to spoon against him. He tucked the blanket up around her shoulders, brushing a lock of chestnut hair away from her face. He smiled, unable to believe his good fortune and pressed a gentle kiss against her still slightly flushed cheek. "Goodnight, Leila," he said softly as he snuggled up against her bare back, heavy eyes drifting closed.
"Mmm… I love you, Quatre," she murmured, her face half buried into the pillow. His eyes flew open in the darkness and he stared at her in wonderment. It would be several hours before he finally managed to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-two
Leila woke slowly the next morning, feeling a bit out of it. She rolled over to find that Quatre was already gone. His side of the bed wasn't even warm anymore. She sat up slowly, feeling a bit stiff. She'd had a particularly vivid dream last night about making love with Quatre and it was still with her this morning. She blinked, trying to make her blurry eyes focus. Surely the clock next to the bed didn't say…
"Ten thirty!" she shouted, snatching it up and bringing up even with her nose. She'd never slept this late in her entire life!! She tossed back the blanket and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing. Then she found herself falling back onto the bed as a wave of dizziness made her head spin. She gritted her teeth and sat back up, fighting the feeling. Resolutely, she made her way into the bathroom, heading for the shower. Once inside the stall, she started the water, letting the spray sting her into awareness. She placed both hands on the wall and braced herself against the hot water pounding down on her back. Sighing, she washed quickly, still wondering why she was sore and stiff.
It wasn't until she was standing in front of the large mirror behind the sink, brushing her teeth that she realized what was going on. She scrubbed at her teeth, trying not to gag as the taste of the toothpaste made her nauseous. Leaning forward to spit in the sink, she noticed something odd. She rinsed her mouth out and tilted her head to the side, taking a closer look at the point where her neck met her shoulder. There was a small mottled bruise, just big enough to be noticed. Her face turned bright red as she realized what it was.
"Oh my god, I wasn't dreaming last night!" she whispered, mortified. She buried her face in her hands, feeling her cheeks burning. She didn't think she'd be able to face anyone just yet. She made her way back to the bedroom, wrapped in her still damp towel and curled up in the center of the bed, pulling the blanket over her head.
A rush of cool air invaded her warm little nest and she lifted her head to find Iria giving her an odd look.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Iria said, teasing. "I was getting worried. You missed breakfast and lunch." Leila sat up, making sure that she was covered with the blanket. "I brought you a tray." She lifted the lid off of the tray on the bedside table to reveal a bowl of soup, juice, and a grilled ham and cheese sandwich.
Leila looked at the food blankly, then swallowed hard when the smell reached her. She barely had enough time to push past Iria and bolt for the bathroom. She gagged, reaching the toilet just in time.
Iria wet a cloth with cool water and knelt next to the younger woman, lifting her hair and sponging her forehead and the back of her neck gently. Leila was shuddering by the time she finished. "Here." She looked up to see Iria holding out a glass of water to her. "Rinse your mouth out. Take slow sips." After several sips of the cool water, she felt a little better and offered Iria a small grin.
Iria looked at her sister-in-law, a slight frown on her face. "How long?"
"I beg your pardon?" Leila asked, confused by the question.
"Come on," Iria said, leading her back into the dressing room. She sat Leila down at the vanity and opened the closet doors, pulling out a green scoop necked blouse and a pair of beige slacks. Undergarments soon followed. She waited patiently while Leila dressed, then pulled the brush out of her hands and started brushing her hair with slow gentle strokes.
"How long have you been like this," Iria asked again, looking at Leila's face reflected in the mirror.
Leila considered the question as Iria continued to brush her hair. "About a week, I suppose."
"Sorry to be asking such a personal question, but when was your last period?" Iria grinned slightly when Leila's eyes widened in comprehension.
"Oh, Iria!" She twisted around in her seat to stare up at the older woman. "Surely you don't think…"
"You're showing all the symptoms," she replied, ticking off a list on her fingers. "Fatigue, loss of appetite, nausea, dizzy spells."
Leila was speechless. She didn't know what to think. "When will I know for sure?" she asked Iria.
"Didn't your stepmother—" Iria broke off at the realization that no one had ever prepared her for this. "Come on," she said, finishing off the end of the braid she had been weaving and snapping a band around it. "I've got a friend who's a doctor. We'll find out now."
Iria drove them in her little car, telling the butler that if anyone called for them, they were out shopping. She drove them to a little clinic in the poorer section of town, then told Leila to sit in the car while she went in.
Minutes later, Iria rushed back out, grinning. She unlocked the car door and pulled Leila out. "Carrie's on her lunch break and she agreed to do this for me as a favor. Don't worry, she won't say anything to anyone." They entered the charity clinic, walking past the waiting patients who stared at them curiously and down the hallway. Iria stopped at a door with a nameplate stating Carrie Turner and knocked.
"Come on in," came the brisk voice. Iria turned the knob and entered, bringing Leila with her. The woman behind the desk looked up, chewing on a mouthful of sandwich. " 'Scuse me," she managed to get out. "Have t' eat quickly." She swallowed and offered them a bright smile, reaching out to shake Leila's hand. "Pleased to meet you. I saw the vids of the wedding. It was a lovely ceremony. I've known the Winner family since I was a baby, and Iria and I grew up together, so Quatre was almost like a little brother for me too."
Leila nodded. Everything was happening so quickly that she felt a little numb. Iria sat her in the chair across from the desk, holding her hand reassuringly. "I told you why we came here, Carrie. If I take her to the family clinic, everyone will know. And Quatre deserves to hear it from Leila, not on the family grapevine."
Carrie nodded, fully understanding. "It's all right, I don't mind at all." She looked over at Leila. "It's a bit fast, isn't it, dear?" Her manner and sympathy helped Leila to orient herself.
"Yes. I never even suspected, then Iria just stepped in and took over," she said, giving a smile to her sister-in-law. "I would have been lost by myself. Thank you both."
Carrie smiled, reaching for a folder and a pen. "Now, let's just answer these questions and then we'll do the test. Take your time, think about the answers, and don't be so nervous!" They went through the list of questions, Leila blushing at some of them, but she answered to the best of her ability.
"Now," Carrie opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a little plastic cup wrapped in cellophane and held it out to Leila. "All we need is a sample. The bathroom is in there." She pointed to a door off to the side. Taking a deep breath, she accepted the cup and rose, going into the bathroom.
"She's sweet," Carrie said thoughtfully. "How're they doing?"
Iria leaned back in her chair and grinned. "They're doing pretty well. She's not a wimp. Quatre would never bully her, but she can take up for herself. He told me that she has a temper when push comes to shove. I haven't seen it yet, but it should be interesting." They both looked up when the door opened and Leila stepped out, holding the cup.
"Perfect," the doctor reached for the cup, setting it down on an absorbent pad on her desktop. "Now, this won't take long. And it's very accurate." She pulled a pen like object out of her coat pocket and uncapped the end, dipping the tip into the cup. Everyone waited with baited breath as she held it in the liquid for several seconds.
"Hmm…" she muttered as she pulled it out and replaced the cap. She placed it on the desk where they could all see the two little windows. In seconds, a blue bar appeared in the first window. "That means that it's working," she explained. "Now if it's postive, there should be a pink line in the second window." No sooner than the words were spoken, the second line started to appear. Iria let out a whoop and hugged Leila tightly.
"Congratulations," Carrie said with a warm smile. "It looks like you were right, Iria." Leila's mouth hung open in sheer astonishment. "I'll go and get a few things for you, I'll be right back." She rose and hurried out of the room.
Iria was beside herself with happiness. "Oh, Leila! What do you think??"
"I think… I don't know what to think!" she exclaimed, still a bit shocked.
Iria sobered a bit. "Are you happy about it?" she asked quietly.
Leila thought about it, placing a hand on her stomach in wonderment. "I, I really think so, Iria. I've been thinking about it a lot in the last few weeks and, you know, I think it's wonderful." A smile blossomed on her face, making it shine. "We actually talked about it once, and I think Quatre will be happy too."
"Good," Iria said, pleased to hear her words. "Now, how are you going to tell him?"
Leila bit her lip. This part she wasn't so sure about. "I'd like to surprise him, but not until after the party. He has enough on his mind right now." She looked at Iria, asking a silent question.
"I won't say a word," she said reassuringly. "This is your news to tell. I won't even tell Rasid, I promise." She grinned mischiveously. "But I might explode trying to keep it in!" They both laughed, looking up as the door opened. Carrie slipped back in, carrying a white plastic bag.
"Okay," she said, sitting down in her chair again. "I've brought you some stuff to hold you until you can make an appointment with your family doctor. From what you told me, I'd say you're only one, maybe two weeks along." She pulled out several items and lined them up on the desk. "This is a bottle of prenatal vitamins, you just have to follow the instructions on the side of the bottle. I've also put in a book on pregnancy, and several of the pamphlets on diet and exercise. My card is tucked in the book, with both my office and phone numbers. Don't hesistate to call if you have ANY questions." She put everything back in and handed Leila the bag. "There's even a little booklet in there with all sorts of baby names," she added with a grin.
"Thank you so much," Leila said, reaching across the desk to shake her hand.
Iria stood as well. "Call me later," she said to Carrie. "I'll make the arrangements."
Her friend frowned. "I told you it was a favor."
"Right," Iria said, ignoring the frown. "And now I'm going to do you a favor. So call me."
"All right," she said reluctantly. A tap on the door interrupted them and a nurse poked her head in.
"Oh, sorry to intrude, but your one o'clock is here," she said.
"I'll be right there. Thank you." Carrie stood and escorted them to the door. "Sorry to run, but duty calls."
Iria laughed. "I understand. Talk to you later, then."
"Later," Carrie agreed, striding off down the hallway, her hands tucked in the pockets of her lab coat.
Once in the car, Iria couldn't quit grinning. "I can't wait to see Quatre's face when you tell him. He's going to be ecstatic."
"I hope so," Leila said, smiling at the thought herself. "So, now what? We were supposed to be shopping. We can't exactly come back emptyhanded."
"True," Iria said. "We'll go and find new dresses for the party." She grimaced. "I don't have anything at all to wear. And besides, I saw something downtown that would be perfect on you!"
Quatre sat at his desk, staring at a pile of papers with total incomprehension. He just couldn't focus on work today. All he could think about was last night, and Leila's voice still echoed in his mind.
"I love you, Quatre…"
Had she meant it? His heart thudded painfully in his chest and he bowed his head. He couldn't think straight. And he wasn't getting anything done. He made an effort to concentrate, to organize the papers on his desk, but he only succeeded in getting them even more muddled.
He groaned with frustration, giving up. He left the office, telling his startled secretary to reschedule all his meeting and take messages if anyone called. He made his way to the company gym on the first floor, intent on working off some of his frustration. At this time of day it would be practically deserted. Or so he had thought.
Heero was alone in the gym, working out on the weight machine, dressed in the green tank top and black spandex shorts he remembered from their days as Gundam pilots. He sat up when Quatre came in, giving him an odd look. Quatre shrugged, yanking off his tie and tossing it and the suit jacket onto an empty chair. His dress shirt soon followed and he streched out on the weight machine next to Heero, dressed in an undershirt and his business slacks. Heero grasped the hand grips and resumed his reps.
"Problem?" he asked, after listening to Quatre grunt for several minutes.
"You could say that," the blonde replied, pulling down against the machine.
"And," Heero prodded when Quatre hesitated.
Quatre sighed and sat up, wiping his forehead on his shirt. He looked around, making sure there was no one around.
Heero rolled his eyes. "Everyone's gone. They left when I came in."
Quatre leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Leila was talking in her sleep last night," he said, editing events slightly. After all, he wasn't going to go into details on his sex life, not even with Heero, the most closemouthed person in the universe. Heero sat up, listening intently. "She said," he paused, then continued quickly. "She said that she loved me, Heero."
Heero gave him a look that clearly stated that he didn't see what the problem was.
"How do I know if she meant it or not when she was only talking in her sleep?" he asked, elaborating the problem. Heero was silent for several seconds, thinking.
"I'm not the best person in the world to ask for romantic advice, Quatre," he finally said.
"I trust you to keep this to yourself," Quatre said with a wry smile. "That's more than I can say for anyone else."
"True." The silence stretched out again. Then, "Did you think about just asking her?" Heero's mouth quirked at the expression on Quatre's face. "It doesn't have to be complicated, you know. Talk to her."
"The direct approach, huh?" Quatre asked with a grin. "I might just do that. But after the party. She's got enough on her mind right now. And honestly, so do I."
"Hn." Heero glanced up at the clock on the wall above the door, noting the time. "It's almost time for lunch. People will be coming in here soon." Quatre nodded, getting the hint. He stood, gathering up his clothes.
"Say, Heero, want to grab some lunch? You can tell me about the new upgrades you're installing," he said, running a hand through his hair. The brief workout had actually caused him to sweat. He needed to wash and change.
"Sure. After I change," Heero said, jerking his head at the men's locker room.
"Same here. Why don't you meet me at my office when you're done? I have my spare suit up there," Quatre explained.
"Roger that," Heero replied, deadpan. Quatre snorted, then laughed at the familiar old phrase. Heero actually cracked a grin as he disappeared into the locker room. His mood lightened, Quatre headed back to his office to shower and change.