Chapter#5. I'm Dreaming Of a White Christmas
They rode to the helicopter pad where everything went as planned, they were dropped off at Quatre's private shuttle with took them to the Earth. Dorothy had been supplied with some of Relena's winter clothing, as they were near the same size, and Quatre merely had his own dropped off by a Mogwanac.
The trip was pretty uneventful until they reached port and their shuttle nearly rolled over in the turbulence. The lights went out and everyone crashed into one-another. When the lights turned back on Quatre realized Dorothy had been the one to plough into him and was as of now laying on his chest, her face inches from his own. Dorothy realized the situation immediately and, with a blush that was at odds with her usual countenance, stood up awkwardly.
"Everybody okay back there?" Fredrick called out from the front.
"Fine. We're all bloody fine," Quatre growled as he pulled himself up and grabbed Dorothy's overnight bag. After pulling on a thick, wool lined coat he opened the hatch and walked down an icy ramp to a snow covered S.U.V. and climbed in. Dorothy followed soon after.
"Why are you coming?" Dorothy finally demanded, arching one forked eyebrow.
"I need to check on something in the cabin and make a few phone calls," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Hn."
The car battled against the elements as they drove up the nearly hidden path to the isolated cabin. After getting out Dorothy grabbed her duffel and Quatre got out the backpack of supplies for her stay. They walked up to the wooded building wherein Quatre immediately went to the com unit and Dorothy searched for a room.
"Duo? Yeah, it's me. Okay, we have a problem, I want you guys to research a group called 'Frost's Wings', get Heero on the job if you can find him. They're after Dorothy, she's going to stay up here until we've dealt with them. 'Kay, bye." Quatre hung up and made his way to the kitchen where he began restocking the cabinets. Suddenly, without warning, the electricity all turned off.
"Quatre?" Dorothy said as she stumbled warily through the darkened hall.
"There are matches and candles in the kitchen, I'll check the fuse box," After checking all the toggles and switches with no luck, he groaned, "the power is out because of the storm," he turned on the vidphone and when it didn't respond he slammed his fist down on a tiled kitchen counter, working hard not to swear, "what else can go wrong?!" he demanded. There was a loud foreboding crash and Dorothy rushed to the window, matches still in hand.
"That," she pointed outside toward a long log that looked as if it had been formerly a telephone pole. The wind was so hard it'd pushed it down.
"I'll be right back," Quatre pulled on his coat and rushed into the freezing blizzard, finally reaching the car. After turning the key several times with no success he cursed and came back into the house, "I left the lights on, the battery is dead."
"Wonderful," was all Dorothy said. She was at the moment lighting candles in the kitchen, "it's going to get cold in here tonight."
Not long after, they were busy grabbing together piles of blankets and making their individual beds as warm as possible while they themselves put on numerous items of clothing. The temperature was already dropping to dangerous levels. Quatre was at the moment cooking a simple stew over the brick fireplace while Dorothy tried to stay warm.
"So," she said, clamping down on the urge to chatter her teeth, "are you ever going to tell me why you're so out of sorts?"
Quatre sighed, "it's just that I feel ov-," abruptly he stopped as a large bang shot out, indeed very much like a gunshot, "what was that?"
"I don't know," Dorothy frowned in speculation.
"I'll go check it out," Quatre pulled on his rubber boots and went out the door, the wind shoving in swirls of snow and making Quatre have to force himself out and pull the door closed behind him.
"Be careful Quatre," Dorothy whispered softly.
They rode to the helicopter pad where everything went as planned, they were dropped off at Quatre's private shuttle with took them to the Earth. Dorothy had been supplied with some of Relena's winter clothing, as they were near the same size, and Quatre merely had his own dropped off by a Mogwanac.
The trip was pretty uneventful until they reached port and their shuttle nearly rolled over in the turbulence. The lights went out and everyone crashed into one-another. When the lights turned back on Quatre realized Dorothy had been the one to plough into him and was as of now laying on his chest, her face inches from his own. Dorothy realized the situation immediately and, with a blush that was at odds with her usual countenance, stood up awkwardly.
"Everybody okay back there?" Fredrick called out from the front.
"Fine. We're all bloody fine," Quatre growled as he pulled himself up and grabbed Dorothy's overnight bag. After pulling on a thick, wool lined coat he opened the hatch and walked down an icy ramp to a snow covered S.U.V. and climbed in. Dorothy followed soon after.
"Why are you coming?" Dorothy finally demanded, arching one forked eyebrow.
"I need to check on something in the cabin and make a few phone calls," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Hn."
The car battled against the elements as they drove up the nearly hidden path to the isolated cabin. After getting out Dorothy grabbed her duffel and Quatre got out the backpack of supplies for her stay. They walked up to the wooded building wherein Quatre immediately went to the com unit and Dorothy searched for a room.
"Duo? Yeah, it's me. Okay, we have a problem, I want you guys to research a group called 'Frost's Wings', get Heero on the job if you can find him. They're after Dorothy, she's going to stay up here until we've dealt with them. 'Kay, bye." Quatre hung up and made his way to the kitchen where he began restocking the cabinets. Suddenly, without warning, the electricity all turned off.
"Quatre?" Dorothy said as she stumbled warily through the darkened hall.
"There are matches and candles in the kitchen, I'll check the fuse box," After checking all the toggles and switches with no luck, he groaned, "the power is out because of the storm," he turned on the vidphone and when it didn't respond he slammed his fist down on a tiled kitchen counter, working hard not to swear, "what else can go wrong?!" he demanded. There was a loud foreboding crash and Dorothy rushed to the window, matches still in hand.
"That," she pointed outside toward a long log that looked as if it had been formerly a telephone pole. The wind was so hard it'd pushed it down.
"I'll be right back," Quatre pulled on his coat and rushed into the freezing blizzard, finally reaching the car. After turning the key several times with no success he cursed and came back into the house, "I left the lights on, the battery is dead."
"Wonderful," was all Dorothy said. She was at the moment lighting candles in the kitchen, "it's going to get cold in here tonight."
Not long after, they were busy grabbing together piles of blankets and making their individual beds as warm as possible while they themselves put on numerous items of clothing. The temperature was already dropping to dangerous levels. Quatre was at the moment cooking a simple stew over the brick fireplace while Dorothy tried to stay warm.
"So," she said, clamping down on the urge to chatter her teeth, "are you ever going to tell me why you're so out of sorts?"
Quatre sighed, "it's just that I feel ov-," abruptly he stopped as a large bang shot out, indeed very much like a gunshot, "what was that?"
"I don't know," Dorothy frowned in speculation.
"I'll go check it out," Quatre pulled on his rubber boots and went out the door, the wind shoving in swirls of snow and making Quatre have to force himself out and pull the door closed behind him.
"Be careful Quatre," Dorothy whispered softly.