Disclaimer: Don't own, just borrowing. I promise to return them without becoming any richer.
Warnings: Some swearing, violence. Eventual yaoi of the 1X4 variety.
Chapter 4The next morning a rude ray of sunlight worming its way through the blinds woke Quatre. He was severely tempted to just role over and go back to sleep. I don't want to face the day. Would anybody really miss me if I just sunk back into the blankets and hibernated tell summer? He sighed. Yep. Time to face the music. I have to call Ira and get some work done today before I meet Eric for my inquisition. He peeled himself out of bed, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got dressed and then sat down in front of his vid phone.
Ira answered on the first ring. She smiled when she saw him. "My elusive baby brother! I tried to call you last night but you must have been out partying."
"I was helping a friend with a paper. Did you try and call about the explosions?"
"It's just a mess isn't it? Everybody has been crazy around here, but, no that's not why I called. I've got some good news, it's cheered all the sad faces over here. Terra is getting married!"
Terra was Quatre's fifth to last sister. "I assume it's someone you approve of then?"
"Definitely, it's that charming man who worked so close with father. You remember Everett Orth, don't you?"
Quatre's smile grew brittle. "Yes, I remember." Orth was indeed a charming man. He had most of the Winner family convinced he could do no wrong, but Quatre had seen another side to him.
He had first met Everett Orth when he was six. He was his father's right hand man in those days, and had come over for dinner. Quatre had always been sensitive to others, and when his father had first brought him forward to meet Orth, he had immediately felt wrongness in him. That had caused the little blond to do something unforgivable in his father's eyes. He displayed rudeness. He refused to shake the man's hand, and had hid behind one of his sisters to avoid him. His father had been furious with him for the entire meal.
Later that night, Quatre was practicing the piano, far away from his angry father, when Orth had come in. He had asked Quatre why he was so rude to him. He had a cold, detached voice. The little boy was petrified and hadn't answered. Orth had smiled, and walked to stand beside the piano. All Quatre could do was stare up at him, hands still posed on the keys. Orth had asked his question again, and when he still did not answer the older man calmly reached down and slammed the keyboard cover shut, right on Quatre's little hands.
The little boy's shriek had been heard all over the mansion.
No one had believed that the incident was deliberate. Orth was very contrite, insisting that it was an accident, that he had been merely standing there and listening to Quatre play when he had inadvertently bumped the piano, causing it to fall shut. To this day none of his sisters believed him, choosing instead to think that it was a confused six-year-old mind that had gotten premeditation mixed up with accident.
Quatre had avoided the man as much as possible since.
"Quatre, you okay?"
He blinked, realizing that he had been sitting still for a while with the brittle smile still pasted to his face. "Yes, I'm sorry, I just kind of spaced out."
"You were six, Quatre, can't you just admit to the possibility that you were wrong?"
He frowned and changed the subject. "So how has everyone been handling the recent crisis."
Ira grimaced. "It's been difficult, but most of the burden for handling it has fallen to Everett."
"What?"
"Oh, the two places that were hit are his responsibility."
Under Orth's jurisdiction! Quatre thought, that's just a coincidence, isn't it? He came back to himself, realizing that he had missed something his sister had just said.
" . . . does so much. That dedication today is really going to be good PR for Winner Enterprises."
"What dedication?"
"Oh, you didn't know? Everett thinks, we all do, that it's a good idea to help out those that don't have as much. The company gave a huge sum of money for a police force in one of L2's worst neighborhoods. They're dedicating it today. Relena Dorlian is going to be there, along with an important Senator, and Everett is going to give a speech, of course. It should be on television in a couple of hours."
"Of course he is. I'll be sure to watch it."
His sister smiled. "Excellent! You know you should really make an effort to like him. After all, he'll soon be family."
Quatre smiled thinly. "I'll do my best."
Ira looked happy. "That's all I ask. I hope school keeps going good for you, bye little brother."
"Bye big sister."
They hung up. Quatre grimaced and stared at the ceiling. Is Heero really going after Everett? Is it premeditation or accident? It always seems to come back to that question with Orth, doesn't it? Deciding that thinking about questions he had no answers to was pointless for the moment, Quatre pulled out his homework. Just because I've got weighty things to mull on doesn't mean that I should completely ignore the mundane tasks. He had a history paper due on Monday, and so he decided to work on it until it was time for the televised speech.
Several hours later he turned on the TV. He was early, so he had to suffer through several minutes of the mind numbingly bad soap opera, Space Hearts. Finally, the actress crying over her fiancé's supposed death in a shuttle crash was replaced by Relena's serious face.
Relena stood on a small stage surrounded by a crowd on all sides. To one side of her was a Senator that Quatre couldn't quite recall the name of. On the other side stood Winner Enterprises representative, Everett Orth. He was a handsome man, immaculately dressed in a gray suit with every black hair in place.
Relena was smiling regally, looking every inch the queen she once was. Her speech was beautiful, praising the Winner Corporation's generosity most eloquently. The camera angle shifted slightly, showing Trowa standing unobtrusively in the background. So that's what Une wanted him to do, Quatre thought, guard duty for the ex-queen-of-the-world. Then the Senator did his speech, talking along the same line as Relena, and saying how wonderful it was to finally get some order established on colony L2. Finally, it was Orth's turn. He discussed the joy he felt in giving back to the community. He was as charming as always, but the blond felt sickened by his self-congratulation nevertheless. Sometimes I wonder if I really am unfairly biased towards him, seeing duplicity where there isn't any.
Orth was still giving his speech, when Quatre heard a popping noise over the microphones and Everett Orth suddenly stumbled and fell to the stage floor. In seconds the area turned from orderly and almost boring to complete and utter chaos. The anchorwoman was screaming into the camera about shots fired. The crowd rushed to and fro, shouting hysterically. Quatre saw Trowa move forward and pull Relena out of camera range, and presumably to safety.
Quatre had moved to only inches away from his screen without even realizing it. He stared at the crowd and suddenly gasped in shock. He leaned forward and searched what he could of the area, looking for a reappearance of what he had thought he had seen. But the speech site was calming down, order restored by a batch of uniformed Preventers. The blond could clearly see Everett Orth, pale, but alive, as a doctor tended to the gunshot wound in his shoulder.
Realizing how close he was sitting to the TV Quatre moved back to his chair. Had he really seen what he had thought he'd seen? For a second he had glimpsed dark blue eyes and messy chocolate hair. Heero Yuy. Had he taken a shot at Orth?
After several minutes had passed Quatre called Une.
It took him two tries but she finally answered. "What? Oh, it's you, Quatre." She sounded harried. "I suppose you just saw the dedication?"
"Yes, and I think I saw something else. I thought I saw Heero running through the audience after the shooting."
Une was quiet for a minute. "We'll have to look at the incident on tape, I'm surprised he let himself get caught on camera. This means we have a likely suspect."
"Une, I don't think Heero was the gunman."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"If Heero had shot at Everett Orth he wouldn't have missed."
"Maybe, but then why was he there?"
"I don't know."
"Quatre, thanks for the heads up. I have work to do now, but I want you to come in tomorrow, you'll be cleared for work then. Une out."
Quatre sighed in relief. Finally he could actually do something in this case, though it would still involve waiting a day.
He spent the next hour talking to various people in his company, seeing how Everett was, and reassuring his sisters. He might not be in charge yet, but he still had a responsibility. When he glanced at the clock he realized it was almost time for supper.
Which meant it was time to lie to Eric. It was a good thing he didn't abide by Duo's motto.
He squared his shoulders and headed out the door to collect his neighbor. He barely knocked before Eric pulled open the door, he had obviously been waiting. "Ready?" Quatre asked.
The other boy nodded shyly and they walked to the restaurant mostly in silence. When they sat down, and the waiter had taken their orders, the two boys stared at each other awkwardly. "So . . ." Eric finally began, "you fought in the war. Why?"
Despite all that had been happening today Quatre had spent some time thinking about what to say. "I was born in the colonies, on L4, and when I saw how many people the war was effecting I just had to do something."
"Yeah, I know the colony kids had a lot more to deal with than us kids on earth. Didn't your family object?"
"Yes, especially my father. He believed very strongly in pacifism."
"Man, he must have had a hard time forgiving you for getting involved then."
Quatre ducked his head and looked away from Eric's understanding eyes. "He never actually forgave me, he believed in his ideals until the end, in fact, he died for them."
Quatre's eyes focused suddenly on a large man with a bushy mustache who was walking toward their table. He looked familiar . . .
"I'm sorry," Eric said, "I can't even imagine what I would do if my dad died. He has strong ideals too. He's a politician, so he kind of has to have them, you know?"
Quatre's brain abruptly made the connection with an almost audible snap. The man was a member of Red Thorn. The Arabian almost hadn't recognized him because he had only seen his picture in the profiles that Une had given him and Duo. He casually leaned back and took in his surroundings. Now that he was alert he noticed two more operatives, they all moved like they were packing heat, and they were definitely focused on him.
"Eric," he murmured softly, "get up from your seat and casually walk to the door."
Eric, cut off in mid-sentence, stared at Quatre like the blond had lost his mind. "What are you talking about, and why the hell are you whispering?" He said, loudly.
Deciding they were running out of time, Quatre stood up, grabbed the other boy's arm, and hauled him bodily toward the exit. The terrorists behind them were coming faster now, and Quatre suddenly stopped as the door they had been heading for opened, and in walked a dark haired woman in a long white coat. Mia Shahar, his brain automatically supplied, Red Thorn's best marksman, not counting Heero Yuy of course. She saw him looking at her and began to reach into her coat.
Time abruptly slowed.
Quatre yanked Eric down to the floor, kicking the edge of the nearest table, flipping it on to its side to provide cover. At the same time he aimed a flying kick at a precariously stacked tray of dinner dishes that a waiter was in the process of transporting. He sent them barreling at the other terrorists coming at them from behind. He ducked down, not a moment to soon, as bullets began to mark holes into the sturdy table.
"We want them alive! Don't shoot, Mia!" One of the men yelled.
Them?! As in both me and Eric?
The other restaurant patrons were screaming. The waiter whose tray Quatre had kicked lay prone on the floor, whimpering hysterically. Quatre grabbed his arm to get his attention. "Start crawling to the back door, using the tables as cover," he whispered, and when the man didn't move he said more forcefully, "go! Now!"
The waiter finally got the message and began snaking his way across the floor.
Quatre took the still shocked Eric and began to do the same. The blonde's adrenaline was pumping and his mind was clear. My reflexes haven't changed since the war, I get in a combat situation and everything becomes so much more clear. He was very glad that the tables in this restaurant were pushed close together to conserve space, it provided excellent cover.
He heard the scuff of a shoe along the linoleum floor. Quatre pushed the other boy firmly beneath the next table, got to his feet and suddenly lashed out at the terrorist that had been trying to sneak up on him. He kicked the other man hard in the leg. His knee popped sickeningly and he crashed to the floor.
Two other terrorists were on him almost as soon as he completed the move. He swung a fist at one while pushing a table into the other.
These men, however, were proficient fighters. Some of Quatre's jabs were blocked, though several still got through. Unfortunately, the same could be said for the terrorists. The blonde got a glancing punch to the jaw and firm kick to his leg that almost folded him. He still managed to take one down, and was circling around the other, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
"Move an inch and I'll shoot your legs out from under you."
Red Thorn's crack shot had joined the fight.
The other terrorist, the one Quatre had been fighting, wiped blood away from his nose as Quatre slowly raised his arms over his head. "For such a little guy, he packs one mean punch," he said admiringly.
"Then I better take care of him," Mia said.
Suddenly Quatre felt a blinding pain as her pistol butt impacted with the back of his head, sending him
into darkness.
Notes: While . . . that is not where I expected that chapter to go at all. No siree. But I guess it works. (Dodges tomatoes thrown for the "ending"). I'll start working on the next chapter as soon as possible. I've managed to get one out almost everyday! Good for me. It's nice that I'm currently unemployed . . . except for the whole money situation and all.
The action is for Caer, who cursed me (in a nice way) for short cutting the fight scene with the football players. I hope this makes up for it, at least a little. Thanks for all the great feedback. I feel all warm and toasty . . .
Next chapter the elusive Heero Yuy might finally make an appearance.
I'm having issues with my computer when I upload the document. A couple paragraphs will lose their indention while most of the others are fine, or some of my lines will be de-italicized. Why is that happening?! It's all perfectly lined up when I type it out and save it. Any ideas?