Title: Paradoxical Dream
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters of Gundam Wing. Though I, as do many people, wish I did. Don't sue me, I don't have anything that you would want, well maybe my cat, but you can't have him!
Category: Romance, maybe a little angst, you know, what everybody else seems to have too.
Rating: that really isn't for me to decide, I mean seriously, if it was up to me, all those gory movies would have been rated G. oh well, PG-13
Summery: Peirin, Quatre, and a crazy little chick, what can't go wrong. Besides the perfect blonde pilot finally made a mistake.
Dedication: To Peirin, love you Hun, I know that this was supposed to be a Christmas present, last year, but it took longer than originally anticipated. Oops. Well love you anyway, enjoy. Oh and you readers, I love all of you people too! ::hugs readers::
Feedback: You know you want to. Besides, if you don't, I'll hunt you down and throw my cat on you. My vicious cat, the one I love so much. Maxwell.
*~Paradoxical Dream~*
*~By: Alessandra St. James Peacecraft*~
Chapter 1
A/N: Sorry if you don't understand this, my mind is pretty twisted. Don't hate me (I need hugs)
"I keep telling myself that Peirin isn't the one, but.... thoughts of her keep intruding my mind and I know that I'm only lying to myself. Peirin is fifteen, and I'm nineteen; it's a four-year difference that at our ages is a lot. A relationship between us just wouldn't work. Peirin is...well Peirin is perfect in every way. She's smart, beautiful, funny, talented-" *click*
Quatre Winner quickly shut off the recording he had made in his late teenage years. He knew that if he listened to any more of the tape, the pain of losing her would be too great to bear. A framed picture of the smiling little Shinigami girl was sitting on his desk.
He had placed it there only moments before turning on the notation, and the lime green curly hair and big chocolate eyes were already beginning to haunt him. She was smiling in the photograph.... she always used to smile. A noise sounded from outside his door. Quatre quickly shoved the picture back into its hiding place, his desk drawer. A knock sounded on his door a few seconds later. A woman with waist length blonde hair popped her head into his office. Quatre breathed a sigh of relief after realizing that it was only his secretary, Dorothy Catalonia.
*pause here for evil laughter* Ha ha Dorothy is a Secretary!!!
"Mr Winner?"
"Yes Miss Dorothy?"
"Trowa Barton is here to see you, as well as Chang Wufei, Heero Yuy, and Duo Maxwell; just as you requested." She slowly sauntered up to the front of Quatre's desk. She bent over and-
"QUATRE!" Dorothy groaned as a high-pitched female voice rang through the hallway. A woman with platinum blonde, slate blue streaked hair, blue gray eyes, and a huge grin spread across her face walked into the room.
"Milan?"
"Who else would yell that loud in an office building?" Milan ran up and hugged her longtime friend. The perplexed frown on Quatre's forehead smoothed out into a smile. Milan turned to Dorothy.
"What, no greeting? Dorothy, how could you?!" Sarcasm dripped from Milan' words.
Laughter could be heard coming from the room next door, followed by a loud 'OW! Damn it Wooman.'
"I guess that means Duo still hasn't overcome his problem of listening through doors. You know the doctor did give him pills that seemed to be working for that little problem. Whatever happened?" Milan grinned in the direction of the door.
"I heard that!" Duo screamed at the top of his lungs.
"That was the general idea." Dorothy looked at Milan, interrupting the conversation that was thoroughly entertaining the silent Quatre.
"It's nice to see you again, Miss Milan."
"I can't say that the feeling is mutual, Dorothy. Anyway, Quatre, hun, what are you and the other pilots getting yourselves into now?"
"Milan, just because Duo is over doesn't mean that we're going to burn a building to ruins.
Quatre looked embarrassed. "Well I was going to have you come over...but for now I only wanted to speak to Heero, Wufei, Duo, and Trowa."
"Thank god you finally are showing the beginning of a back bone, Quatre." Milan straightened her white 3/4 length sleeve button down blouse, and khaki skirt. Knee length leather boots with 3" heels adorned her feet. "I don't suppose I can stay with you while I'm in town, can I?" A mischievous sparkle twinkled in her eyes, but Quatre disregarded it.
"Of course you can."
Milan thought for a moment before changing her mind. "I think I'll stay in a hotel instead." An evil plot began to develop in that crazy little head of hers.
*~*~
"MULDER!" Peirin Maxwell screamed her cat's name across her apartment. She inwardly cringed, as she realized that she was going to here about her 'rambunctious' behavior from her obnoxious neighbors. Raising her hands up in the air, Peirin sighed. "I give up. MULDER!"
Peirin flopped down on her bed just as the phone rang. She waited until after the second ring before picking up the extension in her bedroom. "Hello?"
"HI!" Peirin's best friend's familiar cheery voice came through the phone.
"Milan!" Mulder jumped up on Peirin's lap. The tonkanese turned in a circle three times before laying down right on Peirin's legs.
"None other. I called to-"
Milan was interrupted mid sentence by something, and the next thing Peirin knew she was hearing her brother's voice. "She didn't call you for any reason...no reason at all...."
"You sound suspicious, what have you done now?" Peirin brushed a lime green curl out of her face before proceeding to glare at the thought of her brother.
Peirin heard a muffled "Hand over the phone...now! Fine you asked for it," before she then heard the phone being dropped. Someone picked it up.
"Hello?"
"WUFEI?!" Peirin's astonishment sounded clear as a bell in her voice.
"MAXWELL?!"
A quiet "give me the phone or die" could be heard. "Sorry about that, your brother and his 'friend' took over my hotel room, and you brother is now officially a fruitcake!" Milan smacked Duo over the head with a large, thick book. "As I was saying..." Peirin could just see her best friend glaring at her brother, long brown braid and all. "I was wondering if you could meet me for dinner tomorrow night."
"Where?" Peirin gently scratched Mulder's ear.
"Goodfellows, so wear something nice." The girls then began talking about nonsense things before saying good-bye an hour later.
*~*~
His hands were clammy, and he had already removed his brown vest. Quatre knew he was getting way to nervous over a simple dinner date. He sighed. "What am I going to wear?" A pitiful groan escaped his lips.
"I have an idea..." Milan's sing song voice came from behind him. She was standing in the doorway to his bedroom; in her hand were two bags, one from a Structure store, and the other from a Dr. Martin store.
"Uh oh, Quatre's gettin' a make over!" Quatre glared at Duo, and Milan rolled her eyes at the adorable yet immature pilot.
"Go away Duo; I'm trying to help Quatre, not make him over! Gosh men don't know anything!"
"Geeze! A guy can take a hint you know, I'm leavin', I'm leavin'!" Duo glared at an exasperated Milan before finally leaving the room.
"Now Quatre come here, I want to make sure these things fit you." Milan pulled a pair of khakis out of the Structure bag. The pants weren't as baggy as most khakis were, but they weren't as tight as Trowa's scrumptious jeans. She then pulled a tight fitting white t-shirt out, and finally a charcoal gray sweater that was a little looser fitting than the t-shirt.
"I didn't think pink socks would go well with this outfit so I bought you black, gray, and white ones instead." Milan blushed from in embarrassment for one of the first times in her life. "I didn't know which ones you would prefer." Milan quickly cleared her throat. "Now as for shoes, I got you a pair of Dr. Martins, because I thought that they would look the best. What do you think?"
"Thank you Milan, you have exceptional taste." The pair grinned at each other.
"I'll take that as you like them. Now, go try them on!" Quatre quickly grabbed the bundle of clothes before rushing into the bathroom.
*~*~
"Miss Maxwell?" Peirin turned around to face the woman who had called her name. She gently leaned against the grocery cart she had been taking groceries out of and putting them into her trunk.
"I'm Peirin Maxwell." The woman smiled and held out a bag to Peirin.
"My employer, Miss Peacecraft said that I would probably find you here. She sent an outfit for you to wear to the restaurant." Peirin smiled at the thoughtfulness of her best friend.
"Tell her thank you for me." The woman nodded once, then turned to leave, but quickly stopped and faced Peirin again.
"I almost forgot to tell you, Miss Peacecraft requests that you meet her at her hotel room instead of going straight to the restaurant. She's staying at the Grand Hotel." Having said what she needed to say, the woman left.
*~*~
"Do you think she'll get the idea if I wear sweatpants?" No, she'll think that something is wrong. I never wear sweats." If anybody had walked into her hotel room at that point, they would have said that Milan St. James Peacecraft prominent lawyer on the East Coast, youngest of the Peacecrafts, sister to ex-Queen Relena, sister to Zechs Marquis AKA Miliardo Peacecraft was absolutely positively out of her mind, and for real this time. Not many people would disagree because she was holding a conversation with her white shepherd (3 months old), her parakeet (2 years. old), and tonkanese (1 year old) {Dog ~ Frances, Cat ~ Reese, Bird ~ Malcolm} She had bribed the hotel management with a lot of money to allow her to bring her three little babies/pets into her room.
She finally decided to wear a pair of comfy bootleg jeans, and a white knit top. Throwing her waist length hair into a messy bun, she padded in bare feet to the kitchen where she opened the freezer, and pulled out a bowl of peanut butter fudge ice cream. It would be another hour before Peirin showed up, and she had to look relaxed.
Chapter 2
"No way am I going to wear that-that skirt dress thing!" Peirin Maxwell glared at the lime green v-neck t-shirt, and matching knee length lime green floral skirt. A pair of knee high black leather boots were also packed in the bag.
Peirin hated skirts and dresses, and she never wore them, she wasn't about to start now. She bit her lip and studied the outfit one last time. It wasn't as bad as she first had thought. Realizing this, Peirin threw the skirt, shirt, and boots into the bag, and rushed out the door swinging the bag as she ran down the hallway towards the elevator. The doorman brought her metallic blue Saab convertible around to the front of the apartment building.
*~*~
"Why aren't you dressed for dinner?!" Peirin stood in the middle of the living room in Milan's hotel suite. She had been glowering at her best friend since she had arrived. "We are going to dinner tonight, aren't we? If not, then I'm taking this damn dress off!"
Milan sighed and sat down on the cream-colored velvet couch. "I'm not going to dinner with you, I never was really planning on it at this point in time. You're meeting Quatre for dinner."
"Then why didn't you tell me this in the first place, and why did you ask me to come here?!" Peirin narrowed her eyes at Milan.
"Ok, for the first question, Quatre didn't want me to say anything right away, and as for the second question, I have two answers. One, so I could tell you what's really going on, and two, because I wanted to fix your hair."
"I doubt it," Peirin stated flatly (Note: Peirin's hair is a touchy subject).
"You know that I'll just make your hair look pretty, even if you don't want me to." Milan looked at her best friend with a mischievous grin on her face; she then tackled Peirin.
*~*~
"Quatre, calm down." Trowa's voice calmed Quatre as he quietly spoke to his best friend.
"But Trowa...." Quatre's bright azure eyes pleaded with Trowa's own jade ones.
"Stop whining, you sound like a little girl!" Quatre jumped as Wufei's predictable (if they had known Wufei was there), yet still annoying complaint rang across the room.
"Breathe deep, seek peace, breathe deep, seek peace.." Duo's humorous words taunted Wufei. Duo slipped behind Wufei and smacked him over the head with the book that had been on the coffee table.
"OW!"
"Shut up." Heero's quiet monotone voice made the room silent in seconds, and the Chinese pilot turned bright red, embarrassed that he had made a fool of himself again.
"Ha, Wooman's embarrassed!" Duo fell over and began rolling around on the ground laughing and holding his arms across his sore stomach.
*~*~
"Reservations for Winner." Peirin glanced wordily at the matra'd (sp?) as the last name of the man she loved rolled out of her mouth. Doubts that Quatre might not show up at all were intruding Peirin's mind.
"Right this way madam." The middle-aged man led her to a table in the middle of the room. "Mr. Winner has not arrived yet."
Peirin nodded and sat down in the chair the matra'd (sp?) had pulled out for her. She was there for two minutes before she realized that a blonde haired man had walked into the restaurant.
She hadn't seen Quatre for a while, and she had been afraid that she might not recognize him, but as she looked at the man standing on the other side of the room, she immediately knew that it was Quatre.
His blonde hair was the same cut as it had been when she had seen him the last time, although it looked as though he had let it grow a little longer. He was wearing a charcoal sweater that fit perfectly against the contours of his muscular body. Peirin turned her head as she realized that he was looking at her. He slowly made his way to the table.
"Peirin." Her name came out on a breathy note. "I was hoping that you would still come."
Chapter 3
Quatre looked at Peirin wishing once again that he could go back in time to the day that he had hurt Peirin more than anyone had before.
Both Quatre and Peirin thought of that day 8 years previous as they silently at dinner...
8 years earlier
The kiss was deep and passionate. Peirin began to push Quatre's vest off of his shoulders. She took a step backwards and pulled her t-shirt off, leaving her in a black bra and jeans. Quatre placed his hands timidly on her waist, closing the distance between them.
Peirin leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against Quatre's. Her tongue pressed gently against his mouth, causing it to open. Peirin's hands found their way to the buttons of Quatre's shirt. Her nimble fingers quickly began undoing them. As the last button was released, Peirin carefully pushed the shirt all the way off of him; letting it pool in a pile on the floor. The embrace was sweet. Quatre broke the kiss and looked lovingly down at her. He pushed a curl behind her ear. Tears formed in his eyes.
"I-I can't." Peirin smiled up at him.
"It's ok Quatre. I understand, are we going too fast?" Quatre shook his head.
"No Peirin. This isn't right, we shouldn't be together." Tears pooled in Peirin's eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I-I think I should leave." Peirin let her arms drop from Quatre's shoulders. He picked up his shirt and vest, looked at Peirin one last time, and left.
Present
"You didn't have to leave you know." Peirin looked across the table, and realized that she loved him more now than she had ever before. Quatre, the shy, blonde, Arabian, had swallowed his pride and 'invited' her (well sort of) to dinner. Even though he had known that she was hurt, and didn't want to see him, even after eight years.
"I did, Peirin. It just wasn't right. I couldn't f-...."
"Couldn't what Quatre?" Peirin was becoming exasperated, and seeing her best friend across the restaurant looking at them through plants, while a handsome man sat behind her, obviously amused didn't help either.
"Peirin..." A desperate look came across his face. "Could we maybe go somewhere else to discuss this?"
Peirin looked at his innocent face. He had seen so much bloodshed yet he still was like a little well-bred child. She nodded, and Quatre stood up, dropped a few bills on the table, and held his hand out for her. She grabbed it and stood up. They walked out of the restaurant with Quatre guiding her with his hand on the small of her back.
*~*~
Quatre looked straight ahead as he silently maneuvered the sleek silver Mercedes Benz through the windy streets around Lake Harriet. Peirin sat silently next to him looking out the window at the moon reflecting off of the water. He looked over at her. Her beauty was truly captured in the moment, and he wished he had a camera.
"There's a can of Code Red Mtn. Dew in the back if you want it." Peirin turned to look at him, smiled, and nodded. He reached behind her seat, while still being able to hold on to the wheel and steer.
"Thank you."
"Your welcome." Peirin turned back to looking out the window and began sipping the pop. Suddenly the car turned away from what would have been the street to his house and headed to another part of the city. Quatre suddenly spoke. "I didn't want to force you that night."
"You weren't forcing me!" Peirin looked shocked at him. "I loved you, love you. You would never force me, and if you would remember, I was the one that initiated the kiss, not you."
"I'm four years older than you."
"So are my sister, and brother for that matter. Age really doesn't matter all that much. Besides, four years is not that much." Quatre pulled the car over to the side of a street. "You love me, don't you?"
"I've always loved you." Peirin leaned forward and kissed Quatre. Slowly at first, but soon Quatre deepened it. His tongue intertwined with hers. She put her arms around his neck, and whispered against his lips "You never forced me."
The kiss lasted until Peirin broke it; she leaned back and looked at him. "Can we go to your house?" Quatre knew what would happen there. It was here that he decided whether the two of them would have a future. A future full of love, and the girl that meant the most to him.
The car revved to life as Quatre turned the key in the ignition. Peirin circled her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder as he drove them to one of two destinations.
With in a few minutes, she was asleep.
*~*~
Quatre lifted her out of the car and carried her through the front door of his Lake Harriet Mansion. She mumbled something in her sleep, but he couldn't make it out. He pulled the key to the house out of his pocket, and tried to juggle Peirin in one arm, while unlocking and opening the door in the other.
Luckily Quatre had gotten to the age (of 26) where he didn't have to have his 'companions' (followers) living with him. That meant that he didn't have to worry about anybody waking her up.
He brought her up to one of the many guest bedrooms. Quatre gently laid her down on the large four post Victorian bed. He began to leave but Peirin grabbed his hand.
"Stay." She whispered. Quatre looked down into her brown eyes.
"If that's what you want." For an answer, Peirin leaned towards him, her arms wound around his neck. She began to kiss him. Quatre slowly let his full weight sink onto her as they lay together on the bed. He sat up, bringing Peirin up with him. He pulled her shirt off, and leaned back into the kiss. Peirin pulled off his sweater, and slid her hands across the smooth expanse of his chest. Quatre shivered at the contact of flesh to flesh, and Peirin giggled, making it hard for them to continue the kiss.
"That wasn't funny." A mischievous expression suddenly came over Quatre's face. He grinned wickedly a second before his finger lightly brushed across her bare stomach, at one of the only ticklish spots on her. She burst out laughing.
"S-s-stop! That isn't fair!" Quatre didn't listen; he just continued to torture her until she could hardly breath. She would have screamed at him yet again but her mouth was suddenly preoccupied with Quatre's lips. It felt so wonderful; Peirin couldn't contain the sigh of contentment, as Quatre continued his caresses. It was a paradoxical dream that had evolved into a reverie and finally reality.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters of Gundam Wing. Though I, as do many people, wish I did. Don't sue me, I don't have anything that you would want, well maybe my cat, but you can't have him!
Category: Romance, maybe a little angst, you know, what everybody else seems to have too.
Rating: that really isn't for me to decide, I mean seriously, if it was up to me, all those gory movies would have been rated G. oh well, PG-13
Summery: Peirin, Quatre, and a crazy little chick, what can't go wrong. Besides the perfect blonde pilot finally made a mistake.
Dedication: To Peirin, love you Hun, I know that this was supposed to be a Christmas present, last year, but it took longer than originally anticipated. Oops. Well love you anyway, enjoy. Oh and you readers, I love all of you people too! ::hugs readers::
Feedback: You know you want to. Besides, if you don't, I'll hunt you down and throw my cat on you. My vicious cat, the one I love so much. Maxwell.
*~Paradoxical Dream~*
*~By: Alessandra St. James Peacecraft*~
Chapter 1
A/N: Sorry if you don't understand this, my mind is pretty twisted. Don't hate me (I need hugs)
"I keep telling myself that Peirin isn't the one, but.... thoughts of her keep intruding my mind and I know that I'm only lying to myself. Peirin is fifteen, and I'm nineteen; it's a four-year difference that at our ages is a lot. A relationship between us just wouldn't work. Peirin is...well Peirin is perfect in every way. She's smart, beautiful, funny, talented-" *click*
Quatre Winner quickly shut off the recording he had made in his late teenage years. He knew that if he listened to any more of the tape, the pain of losing her would be too great to bear. A framed picture of the smiling little Shinigami girl was sitting on his desk.
He had placed it there only moments before turning on the notation, and the lime green curly hair and big chocolate eyes were already beginning to haunt him. She was smiling in the photograph.... she always used to smile. A noise sounded from outside his door. Quatre quickly shoved the picture back into its hiding place, his desk drawer. A knock sounded on his door a few seconds later. A woman with waist length blonde hair popped her head into his office. Quatre breathed a sigh of relief after realizing that it was only his secretary, Dorothy Catalonia.
*pause here for evil laughter* Ha ha Dorothy is a Secretary!!!
"Mr Winner?"
"Yes Miss Dorothy?"
"Trowa Barton is here to see you, as well as Chang Wufei, Heero Yuy, and Duo Maxwell; just as you requested." She slowly sauntered up to the front of Quatre's desk. She bent over and-
"QUATRE!" Dorothy groaned as a high-pitched female voice rang through the hallway. A woman with platinum blonde, slate blue streaked hair, blue gray eyes, and a huge grin spread across her face walked into the room.
"Milan?"
"Who else would yell that loud in an office building?" Milan ran up and hugged her longtime friend. The perplexed frown on Quatre's forehead smoothed out into a smile. Milan turned to Dorothy.
"What, no greeting? Dorothy, how could you?!" Sarcasm dripped from Milan' words.
Laughter could be heard coming from the room next door, followed by a loud 'OW! Damn it Wooman.'
"I guess that means Duo still hasn't overcome his problem of listening through doors. You know the doctor did give him pills that seemed to be working for that little problem. Whatever happened?" Milan grinned in the direction of the door.
"I heard that!" Duo screamed at the top of his lungs.
"That was the general idea." Dorothy looked at Milan, interrupting the conversation that was thoroughly entertaining the silent Quatre.
"It's nice to see you again, Miss Milan."
"I can't say that the feeling is mutual, Dorothy. Anyway, Quatre, hun, what are you and the other pilots getting yourselves into now?"
"Milan, just because Duo is over doesn't mean that we're going to burn a building to ruins.
Quatre looked embarrassed. "Well I was going to have you come over...but for now I only wanted to speak to Heero, Wufei, Duo, and Trowa."
"Thank god you finally are showing the beginning of a back bone, Quatre." Milan straightened her white 3/4 length sleeve button down blouse, and khaki skirt. Knee length leather boots with 3" heels adorned her feet. "I don't suppose I can stay with you while I'm in town, can I?" A mischievous sparkle twinkled in her eyes, but Quatre disregarded it.
"Of course you can."
Milan thought for a moment before changing her mind. "I think I'll stay in a hotel instead." An evil plot began to develop in that crazy little head of hers.
*~*~
"MULDER!" Peirin Maxwell screamed her cat's name across her apartment. She inwardly cringed, as she realized that she was going to here about her 'rambunctious' behavior from her obnoxious neighbors. Raising her hands up in the air, Peirin sighed. "I give up. MULDER!"
Peirin flopped down on her bed just as the phone rang. She waited until after the second ring before picking up the extension in her bedroom. "Hello?"
"HI!" Peirin's best friend's familiar cheery voice came through the phone.
"Milan!" Mulder jumped up on Peirin's lap. The tonkanese turned in a circle three times before laying down right on Peirin's legs.
"None other. I called to-"
Milan was interrupted mid sentence by something, and the next thing Peirin knew she was hearing her brother's voice. "She didn't call you for any reason...no reason at all...."
"You sound suspicious, what have you done now?" Peirin brushed a lime green curl out of her face before proceeding to glare at the thought of her brother.
Peirin heard a muffled "Hand over the phone...now! Fine you asked for it," before she then heard the phone being dropped. Someone picked it up.
"Hello?"
"WUFEI?!" Peirin's astonishment sounded clear as a bell in her voice.
"MAXWELL?!"
A quiet "give me the phone or die" could be heard. "Sorry about that, your brother and his 'friend' took over my hotel room, and you brother is now officially a fruitcake!" Milan smacked Duo over the head with a large, thick book. "As I was saying..." Peirin could just see her best friend glaring at her brother, long brown braid and all. "I was wondering if you could meet me for dinner tomorrow night."
"Where?" Peirin gently scratched Mulder's ear.
"Goodfellows, so wear something nice." The girls then began talking about nonsense things before saying good-bye an hour later.
*~*~
His hands were clammy, and he had already removed his brown vest. Quatre knew he was getting way to nervous over a simple dinner date. He sighed. "What am I going to wear?" A pitiful groan escaped his lips.
"I have an idea..." Milan's sing song voice came from behind him. She was standing in the doorway to his bedroom; in her hand were two bags, one from a Structure store, and the other from a Dr. Martin store.
"Uh oh, Quatre's gettin' a make over!" Quatre glared at Duo, and Milan rolled her eyes at the adorable yet immature pilot.
"Go away Duo; I'm trying to help Quatre, not make him over! Gosh men don't know anything!"
"Geeze! A guy can take a hint you know, I'm leavin', I'm leavin'!" Duo glared at an exasperated Milan before finally leaving the room.
"Now Quatre come here, I want to make sure these things fit you." Milan pulled a pair of khakis out of the Structure bag. The pants weren't as baggy as most khakis were, but they weren't as tight as Trowa's scrumptious jeans. She then pulled a tight fitting white t-shirt out, and finally a charcoal gray sweater that was a little looser fitting than the t-shirt.
"I didn't think pink socks would go well with this outfit so I bought you black, gray, and white ones instead." Milan blushed from in embarrassment for one of the first times in her life. "I didn't know which ones you would prefer." Milan quickly cleared her throat. "Now as for shoes, I got you a pair of Dr. Martins, because I thought that they would look the best. What do you think?"
"Thank you Milan, you have exceptional taste." The pair grinned at each other.
"I'll take that as you like them. Now, go try them on!" Quatre quickly grabbed the bundle of clothes before rushing into the bathroom.
*~*~
"Miss Maxwell?" Peirin turned around to face the woman who had called her name. She gently leaned against the grocery cart she had been taking groceries out of and putting them into her trunk.
"I'm Peirin Maxwell." The woman smiled and held out a bag to Peirin.
"My employer, Miss Peacecraft said that I would probably find you here. She sent an outfit for you to wear to the restaurant." Peirin smiled at the thoughtfulness of her best friend.
"Tell her thank you for me." The woman nodded once, then turned to leave, but quickly stopped and faced Peirin again.
"I almost forgot to tell you, Miss Peacecraft requests that you meet her at her hotel room instead of going straight to the restaurant. She's staying at the Grand Hotel." Having said what she needed to say, the woman left.
*~*~
"Do you think she'll get the idea if I wear sweatpants?" No, she'll think that something is wrong. I never wear sweats." If anybody had walked into her hotel room at that point, they would have said that Milan St. James Peacecraft prominent lawyer on the East Coast, youngest of the Peacecrafts, sister to ex-Queen Relena, sister to Zechs Marquis AKA Miliardo Peacecraft was absolutely positively out of her mind, and for real this time. Not many people would disagree because she was holding a conversation with her white shepherd (3 months old), her parakeet (2 years. old), and tonkanese (1 year old) {Dog ~ Frances, Cat ~ Reese, Bird ~ Malcolm} She had bribed the hotel management with a lot of money to allow her to bring her three little babies/pets into her room.
She finally decided to wear a pair of comfy bootleg jeans, and a white knit top. Throwing her waist length hair into a messy bun, she padded in bare feet to the kitchen where she opened the freezer, and pulled out a bowl of peanut butter fudge ice cream. It would be another hour before Peirin showed up, and she had to look relaxed.
Chapter 2
"No way am I going to wear that-that skirt dress thing!" Peirin Maxwell glared at the lime green v-neck t-shirt, and matching knee length lime green floral skirt. A pair of knee high black leather boots were also packed in the bag.
Peirin hated skirts and dresses, and she never wore them, she wasn't about to start now. She bit her lip and studied the outfit one last time. It wasn't as bad as she first had thought. Realizing this, Peirin threw the skirt, shirt, and boots into the bag, and rushed out the door swinging the bag as she ran down the hallway towards the elevator. The doorman brought her metallic blue Saab convertible around to the front of the apartment building.
*~*~
"Why aren't you dressed for dinner?!" Peirin stood in the middle of the living room in Milan's hotel suite. She had been glowering at her best friend since she had arrived. "We are going to dinner tonight, aren't we? If not, then I'm taking this damn dress off!"
Milan sighed and sat down on the cream-colored velvet couch. "I'm not going to dinner with you, I never was really planning on it at this point in time. You're meeting Quatre for dinner."
"Then why didn't you tell me this in the first place, and why did you ask me to come here?!" Peirin narrowed her eyes at Milan.
"Ok, for the first question, Quatre didn't want me to say anything right away, and as for the second question, I have two answers. One, so I could tell you what's really going on, and two, because I wanted to fix your hair."
"I doubt it," Peirin stated flatly (Note: Peirin's hair is a touchy subject).
"You know that I'll just make your hair look pretty, even if you don't want me to." Milan looked at her best friend with a mischievous grin on her face; she then tackled Peirin.
*~*~
"Quatre, calm down." Trowa's voice calmed Quatre as he quietly spoke to his best friend.
"But Trowa...." Quatre's bright azure eyes pleaded with Trowa's own jade ones.
"Stop whining, you sound like a little girl!" Quatre jumped as Wufei's predictable (if they had known Wufei was there), yet still annoying complaint rang across the room.
"Breathe deep, seek peace, breathe deep, seek peace.." Duo's humorous words taunted Wufei. Duo slipped behind Wufei and smacked him over the head with the book that had been on the coffee table.
"OW!"
"Shut up." Heero's quiet monotone voice made the room silent in seconds, and the Chinese pilot turned bright red, embarrassed that he had made a fool of himself again.
"Ha, Wooman's embarrassed!" Duo fell over and began rolling around on the ground laughing and holding his arms across his sore stomach.
*~*~
"Reservations for Winner." Peirin glanced wordily at the matra'd (sp?) as the last name of the man she loved rolled out of her mouth. Doubts that Quatre might not show up at all were intruding Peirin's mind.
"Right this way madam." The middle-aged man led her to a table in the middle of the room. "Mr. Winner has not arrived yet."
Peirin nodded and sat down in the chair the matra'd (sp?) had pulled out for her. She was there for two minutes before she realized that a blonde haired man had walked into the restaurant.
She hadn't seen Quatre for a while, and she had been afraid that she might not recognize him, but as she looked at the man standing on the other side of the room, she immediately knew that it was Quatre.
His blonde hair was the same cut as it had been when she had seen him the last time, although it looked as though he had let it grow a little longer. He was wearing a charcoal sweater that fit perfectly against the contours of his muscular body. Peirin turned her head as she realized that he was looking at her. He slowly made his way to the table.
"Peirin." Her name came out on a breathy note. "I was hoping that you would still come."
Chapter 3
Quatre looked at Peirin wishing once again that he could go back in time to the day that he had hurt Peirin more than anyone had before.
Both Quatre and Peirin thought of that day 8 years previous as they silently at dinner...
8 years earlier
The kiss was deep and passionate. Peirin began to push Quatre's vest off of his shoulders. She took a step backwards and pulled her t-shirt off, leaving her in a black bra and jeans. Quatre placed his hands timidly on her waist, closing the distance between them.
Peirin leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against Quatre's. Her tongue pressed gently against his mouth, causing it to open. Peirin's hands found their way to the buttons of Quatre's shirt. Her nimble fingers quickly began undoing them. As the last button was released, Peirin carefully pushed the shirt all the way off of him; letting it pool in a pile on the floor. The embrace was sweet. Quatre broke the kiss and looked lovingly down at her. He pushed a curl behind her ear. Tears formed in his eyes.
"I-I can't." Peirin smiled up at him.
"It's ok Quatre. I understand, are we going too fast?" Quatre shook his head.
"No Peirin. This isn't right, we shouldn't be together." Tears pooled in Peirin's eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I-I think I should leave." Peirin let her arms drop from Quatre's shoulders. He picked up his shirt and vest, looked at Peirin one last time, and left.
Present
"You didn't have to leave you know." Peirin looked across the table, and realized that she loved him more now than she had ever before. Quatre, the shy, blonde, Arabian, had swallowed his pride and 'invited' her (well sort of) to dinner. Even though he had known that she was hurt, and didn't want to see him, even after eight years.
"I did, Peirin. It just wasn't right. I couldn't f-...."
"Couldn't what Quatre?" Peirin was becoming exasperated, and seeing her best friend across the restaurant looking at them through plants, while a handsome man sat behind her, obviously amused didn't help either.
"Peirin..." A desperate look came across his face. "Could we maybe go somewhere else to discuss this?"
Peirin looked at his innocent face. He had seen so much bloodshed yet he still was like a little well-bred child. She nodded, and Quatre stood up, dropped a few bills on the table, and held his hand out for her. She grabbed it and stood up. They walked out of the restaurant with Quatre guiding her with his hand on the small of her back.
*~*~
Quatre looked straight ahead as he silently maneuvered the sleek silver Mercedes Benz through the windy streets around Lake Harriet. Peirin sat silently next to him looking out the window at the moon reflecting off of the water. He looked over at her. Her beauty was truly captured in the moment, and he wished he had a camera.
"There's a can of Code Red Mtn. Dew in the back if you want it." Peirin turned to look at him, smiled, and nodded. He reached behind her seat, while still being able to hold on to the wheel and steer.
"Thank you."
"Your welcome." Peirin turned back to looking out the window and began sipping the pop. Suddenly the car turned away from what would have been the street to his house and headed to another part of the city. Quatre suddenly spoke. "I didn't want to force you that night."
"You weren't forcing me!" Peirin looked shocked at him. "I loved you, love you. You would never force me, and if you would remember, I was the one that initiated the kiss, not you."
"I'm four years older than you."
"So are my sister, and brother for that matter. Age really doesn't matter all that much. Besides, four years is not that much." Quatre pulled the car over to the side of a street. "You love me, don't you?"
"I've always loved you." Peirin leaned forward and kissed Quatre. Slowly at first, but soon Quatre deepened it. His tongue intertwined with hers. She put her arms around his neck, and whispered against his lips "You never forced me."
The kiss lasted until Peirin broke it; she leaned back and looked at him. "Can we go to your house?" Quatre knew what would happen there. It was here that he decided whether the two of them would have a future. A future full of love, and the girl that meant the most to him.
The car revved to life as Quatre turned the key in the ignition. Peirin circled her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder as he drove them to one of two destinations.
With in a few minutes, she was asleep.
*~*~
Quatre lifted her out of the car and carried her through the front door of his Lake Harriet Mansion. She mumbled something in her sleep, but he couldn't make it out. He pulled the key to the house out of his pocket, and tried to juggle Peirin in one arm, while unlocking and opening the door in the other.
Luckily Quatre had gotten to the age (of 26) where he didn't have to have his 'companions' (followers) living with him. That meant that he didn't have to worry about anybody waking her up.
He brought her up to one of the many guest bedrooms. Quatre gently laid her down on the large four post Victorian bed. He began to leave but Peirin grabbed his hand.
"Stay." She whispered. Quatre looked down into her brown eyes.
"If that's what you want." For an answer, Peirin leaned towards him, her arms wound around his neck. She began to kiss him. Quatre slowly let his full weight sink onto her as they lay together on the bed. He sat up, bringing Peirin up with him. He pulled her shirt off, and leaned back into the kiss. Peirin pulled off his sweater, and slid her hands across the smooth expanse of his chest. Quatre shivered at the contact of flesh to flesh, and Peirin giggled, making it hard for them to continue the kiss.
"That wasn't funny." A mischievous expression suddenly came over Quatre's face. He grinned wickedly a second before his finger lightly brushed across her bare stomach, at one of the only ticklish spots on her. She burst out laughing.
"S-s-stop! That isn't fair!" Quatre didn't listen; he just continued to torture her until she could hardly breath. She would have screamed at him yet again but her mouth was suddenly preoccupied with Quatre's lips. It felt so wonderful; Peirin couldn't contain the sigh of contentment, as Quatre continued his caresses. It was a paradoxical dream that had evolved into a reverie and finally reality.