In a burst of activity he swiped his hand through drawers, under the bed,
and in the wardrobe. Nothing. Sudden inspiration hit him. The bed was
canopied and as he looked up he saw hemming in the shape of a small pouch.
With a silent grimace for the ancient material being destroyed, he ripped
open the sewn pouch and pulled out a handgun. A Colt 45, to be exact.
You, as the reader, are probably wondering how he knew that the semi- automatic might be there and I shall explain as simply as possible, with one word, in fact. Heero. A while back Heero, who had decided he needed some 'time on his own' (aka disappear to annoy the heck out of Relena and make her worry), had broken into Quatre's cabin without permission. As he never felt truly safe, not even in sleep, it would be expected for him to have a weapon at hand.
Quatre, after having found his salvation, jammed the flare gun into his pocket and rolled into the hall. Immediate gunfire followed and he winced as a Ming vase exploded. Even if they didn't kill them, they still had a lot to answer for. Quatre fired a few shots, hoping he didn't hit the Van Gogh painting he had in the living room, then sprinted for the door. Beside the door was a monitor and keypad and after a few seconds he'd put a lock down on his room so Dorothy'd be safe. Then he ducked out the door, into the freezing snow. Barefoot. Ugh, after all this he was going to take a nice long bath in steaming hot water, but for right now he'd have to ignore it.
Running along the side of the building Quatre frantically tried to think up a plan, a shadowed figure following close behind, shooting a barrage of bullets at him. He, dodging, shot a few times over his shoulder and turned a corner...then skidded to a stop. There before him stood one of two men he'd listened in on, the shorter of the two, and no, they hadn't gone back for reinforcements....they'd gone back for guns. Really big guns. Like the one pointed at Quatre right this moment.
Quatre audibly swallowed, wondering how he was going to get out of this predicament. Even if they didn't kill him he'd die of hypothermia soon enough, he had to do something.
"Heh heh heh," the short man chuckled evilly, chewing on a wad of gum, "well, well, well, what do we have here?"
The taller of the two men came up behind Quatre, puffing out his breath in large clouds of steam, "this guy is starting to tick me off." Both Quatre and I were very surprised that we didn't have to delete anything.
"What do ya' think we should do with him," smirked the short one, aiming his Sig Sauer at Quatre's heart, "throw him in the lake?"
Quatre shuddered. As unclothed as he was he'd probably die immediately, at least Dorothy had had a chance.
The taller chuckled mercilessly, "then make him run a mile."
"Perfect," two gold teeth shone as his mouth slashed into a feral grin.
Right about the time when Quatre's hopes were dashed and his heart fell into his stomach, all three heard a whistle from above. The attic was been being remolded and Quatre knew that no one could get in there, so he looked up in surprise. The bullies followed suit.
"Nighty night, suckers!" it was the most grammatically-challenged sentence Dorothy had ever belted out, but it would have to do for the situation. As they had their faces tilted upward it was the perfect opportunity for her to drop several vases on their heads, the vases of course being of the cheaper kind, nothing too expensive. Quatre watched with amusement as the partners in crime fell into unconsciousness, proud of Dorothy's ingeniousness.
"Stop standing around, Quatre, and get inside. Or do you want to become a human popsicle?" Dorothy was in a long, thick robe of dark blue, which Quatre vaguely recognized as his own, her hair streaming over her shoulder as she leaned out an open window. So this was what Romeo had felt like, he thought to himself, well, if Romeo had lived in the middle of the Arctic.
Finally he blinked out of his reverie, realizing how cold he was (his feet are going numb, is that any indication?) And rushed to the door, sliding it open and slamming it behind him. Dorothy was beside him immediately, a blanket and socks already there in her hand. As she led him to the couch, in front of a roaring fire she had quickly started up, she simply wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, rubbed his feet into warmth, sending pins and needles up his legs, and helped him into a pair of thick, wooly socks.
"So," he said, a slight chatter in his voice, "you ever going to tell me why you went out there when I asked you to stay inside?"
Dorothy blushed, looking down, "you were gone for a long time, I was....worried."
"Hmm," was all he said.
Dorothy rushed in, not allowing him to add more to his simple statement, "and I'm thankful for what you did, saving me, I mean....Well, I know you didn't have to do it and....um...you took care of me and...things...so, I just wanted to say thank you. I owe you my life, and I know you didn't have to do it. You had plenty of reasons why you could have dropped me down that hole and left me there, so I really appreciate what you did. Thank you."
Quatre looked at her in astonishment, "do you really think that I hate you?! Dorothy, no matter what you've done to me I would have saved your life anyway. In any situation, despite anything that's happened in our past. I have never hated you. Ever."
"Really?" Dorothy shyly looked up, twisting her long fingers into the fabric of his robe.
"Yes, really really,"Quatre grinned, then decided to skirt the subject for a bit, "how'd you get out of the room? I put a lock down on it that could be authorized only by me."
This time she smiled triumphantly, "Trowa showed me a few tricks, he said I might need them some day."
"Trowa, hmm?" a slow smile pulled on Quatre's lips. His friend had known even before he had known that Dorothy was Quatre's match. He'd have to thank him some day.
"He mentioned something having to do with 'One day, you too will learn what it is to trust a pacifist with all your heart'."
"Hmm," Quatre murmured, looking deep into her blue eyes. Blue like a gem, or stream water, "and what do you think he meant by that?"
"I....don't know," she said slowly, apprehensive at the spark in Quatre's eyes. She searched his face for some tell-tale sign for why he was acting so weird, "you can never quite understand what Trowa says."
Quatre's eyes wandered to her lips, caressing them with the lightest of gazes, "Indeed."
"And you never find out....until it's too late," she whispered, her lips a hairbreadth from his. Finally they bridged the gap in a soul wrenching kiss that lasted quite a while. Eventually, though, they settled down to take a nap in front of the fire and slept on for a long time. At one point Quatre had a pique of conscience and brought in the still unconscious 'Hit Men', tying them in a room in the back, but then returned to curl up with his love in front of the fire.
That was how Trowa and Heero found them hours later, after the sun had come up and everything had calmed down. They exchanged a few smiles at the couple before removing the trespassers and leaving temporarily. Only Trowa came back, Heero had decided to disappear again, his vacation hadn't be nearly long enough.
"Good morning," he said softly as they slowly awakened, Dorothy first, then Quatre as she poked him in the gut. Trowa smiled and took a sip of hot chocolate from the mug he was holding.
"Er....hello Trowa," Quatre finally responded.
"Had a nice night?" Trowa asked mildly, smiling slowly.
Quatre stood up, helping Dorothy catch her balance. She was still in the long blue robe while Quatre's pants were ruined from wear and tear, "sure, lovely evening. We caught a few bad guys, almost died twice-once for each of us, had a lovely snow storm. Yeah, I'd say it was a nice night."
"I thought so," Trowa smirked, "I'll just leave you two to talk." He set his mug on the coffee table and left, pulling on his coat before closing the door behind him.
"Dorothy,"Quatre said first, "I-,"
"Don't say it," Dorothy said softly, sadly, then abruptly smiled, "because I want to say it first."
Quatre was shocked at that one, flabbergasted really. Dorothy took advantage of his speechlessness and held his larger hands in hers, "Quatre Raberba Winner, I am deeply in love with you. I have been for a long time, I just haven't faced it. I guess I've just accepted being a kind person...finally."
A brilliant smile lit up his face, "I don't know what to say, Ditto or Omae o Korosu. It seems to work fine for Heero," he sighed, his broad, but not too broad, shoulders rising and falling as he looked down on the woman who he realized was now shorter than himself, "all joking aside....I love you, too, Dorothy. Will you marry me?"
She smiled, "yes."
In pure happiness he hugged her to him, swinging her around in a wide circle as her laughter mingled with his. Maybe there were some good points to snow storms. Now all he had to do was get her to pluck her eyebrows....
LATER, ALL! -SHERRY1
You, as the reader, are probably wondering how he knew that the semi- automatic might be there and I shall explain as simply as possible, with one word, in fact. Heero. A while back Heero, who had decided he needed some 'time on his own' (aka disappear to annoy the heck out of Relena and make her worry), had broken into Quatre's cabin without permission. As he never felt truly safe, not even in sleep, it would be expected for him to have a weapon at hand.
Quatre, after having found his salvation, jammed the flare gun into his pocket and rolled into the hall. Immediate gunfire followed and he winced as a Ming vase exploded. Even if they didn't kill them, they still had a lot to answer for. Quatre fired a few shots, hoping he didn't hit the Van Gogh painting he had in the living room, then sprinted for the door. Beside the door was a monitor and keypad and after a few seconds he'd put a lock down on his room so Dorothy'd be safe. Then he ducked out the door, into the freezing snow. Barefoot. Ugh, after all this he was going to take a nice long bath in steaming hot water, but for right now he'd have to ignore it.
Running along the side of the building Quatre frantically tried to think up a plan, a shadowed figure following close behind, shooting a barrage of bullets at him. He, dodging, shot a few times over his shoulder and turned a corner...then skidded to a stop. There before him stood one of two men he'd listened in on, the shorter of the two, and no, they hadn't gone back for reinforcements....they'd gone back for guns. Really big guns. Like the one pointed at Quatre right this moment.
Quatre audibly swallowed, wondering how he was going to get out of this predicament. Even if they didn't kill him he'd die of hypothermia soon enough, he had to do something.
"Heh heh heh," the short man chuckled evilly, chewing on a wad of gum, "well, well, well, what do we have here?"
The taller of the two men came up behind Quatre, puffing out his breath in large clouds of steam, "this guy is starting to tick me off." Both Quatre and I were very surprised that we didn't have to delete anything.
"What do ya' think we should do with him," smirked the short one, aiming his Sig Sauer at Quatre's heart, "throw him in the lake?"
Quatre shuddered. As unclothed as he was he'd probably die immediately, at least Dorothy had had a chance.
The taller chuckled mercilessly, "then make him run a mile."
"Perfect," two gold teeth shone as his mouth slashed into a feral grin.
Right about the time when Quatre's hopes were dashed and his heart fell into his stomach, all three heard a whistle from above. The attic was been being remolded and Quatre knew that no one could get in there, so he looked up in surprise. The bullies followed suit.
"Nighty night, suckers!" it was the most grammatically-challenged sentence Dorothy had ever belted out, but it would have to do for the situation. As they had their faces tilted upward it was the perfect opportunity for her to drop several vases on their heads, the vases of course being of the cheaper kind, nothing too expensive. Quatre watched with amusement as the partners in crime fell into unconsciousness, proud of Dorothy's ingeniousness.
"Stop standing around, Quatre, and get inside. Or do you want to become a human popsicle?" Dorothy was in a long, thick robe of dark blue, which Quatre vaguely recognized as his own, her hair streaming over her shoulder as she leaned out an open window. So this was what Romeo had felt like, he thought to himself, well, if Romeo had lived in the middle of the Arctic.
Finally he blinked out of his reverie, realizing how cold he was (his feet are going numb, is that any indication?) And rushed to the door, sliding it open and slamming it behind him. Dorothy was beside him immediately, a blanket and socks already there in her hand. As she led him to the couch, in front of a roaring fire she had quickly started up, she simply wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, rubbed his feet into warmth, sending pins and needles up his legs, and helped him into a pair of thick, wooly socks.
"So," he said, a slight chatter in his voice, "you ever going to tell me why you went out there when I asked you to stay inside?"
Dorothy blushed, looking down, "you were gone for a long time, I was....worried."
"Hmm," was all he said.
Dorothy rushed in, not allowing him to add more to his simple statement, "and I'm thankful for what you did, saving me, I mean....Well, I know you didn't have to do it and....um...you took care of me and...things...so, I just wanted to say thank you. I owe you my life, and I know you didn't have to do it. You had plenty of reasons why you could have dropped me down that hole and left me there, so I really appreciate what you did. Thank you."
Quatre looked at her in astonishment, "do you really think that I hate you?! Dorothy, no matter what you've done to me I would have saved your life anyway. In any situation, despite anything that's happened in our past. I have never hated you. Ever."
"Really?" Dorothy shyly looked up, twisting her long fingers into the fabric of his robe.
"Yes, really really,"Quatre grinned, then decided to skirt the subject for a bit, "how'd you get out of the room? I put a lock down on it that could be authorized only by me."
This time she smiled triumphantly, "Trowa showed me a few tricks, he said I might need them some day."
"Trowa, hmm?" a slow smile pulled on Quatre's lips. His friend had known even before he had known that Dorothy was Quatre's match. He'd have to thank him some day.
"He mentioned something having to do with 'One day, you too will learn what it is to trust a pacifist with all your heart'."
"Hmm," Quatre murmured, looking deep into her blue eyes. Blue like a gem, or stream water, "and what do you think he meant by that?"
"I....don't know," she said slowly, apprehensive at the spark in Quatre's eyes. She searched his face for some tell-tale sign for why he was acting so weird, "you can never quite understand what Trowa says."
Quatre's eyes wandered to her lips, caressing them with the lightest of gazes, "Indeed."
"And you never find out....until it's too late," she whispered, her lips a hairbreadth from his. Finally they bridged the gap in a soul wrenching kiss that lasted quite a while. Eventually, though, they settled down to take a nap in front of the fire and slept on for a long time. At one point Quatre had a pique of conscience and brought in the still unconscious 'Hit Men', tying them in a room in the back, but then returned to curl up with his love in front of the fire.
That was how Trowa and Heero found them hours later, after the sun had come up and everything had calmed down. They exchanged a few smiles at the couple before removing the trespassers and leaving temporarily. Only Trowa came back, Heero had decided to disappear again, his vacation hadn't be nearly long enough.
"Good morning," he said softly as they slowly awakened, Dorothy first, then Quatre as she poked him in the gut. Trowa smiled and took a sip of hot chocolate from the mug he was holding.
"Er....hello Trowa," Quatre finally responded.
"Had a nice night?" Trowa asked mildly, smiling slowly.
Quatre stood up, helping Dorothy catch her balance. She was still in the long blue robe while Quatre's pants were ruined from wear and tear, "sure, lovely evening. We caught a few bad guys, almost died twice-once for each of us, had a lovely snow storm. Yeah, I'd say it was a nice night."
"I thought so," Trowa smirked, "I'll just leave you two to talk." He set his mug on the coffee table and left, pulling on his coat before closing the door behind him.
"Dorothy,"Quatre said first, "I-,"
"Don't say it," Dorothy said softly, sadly, then abruptly smiled, "because I want to say it first."
Quatre was shocked at that one, flabbergasted really. Dorothy took advantage of his speechlessness and held his larger hands in hers, "Quatre Raberba Winner, I am deeply in love with you. I have been for a long time, I just haven't faced it. I guess I've just accepted being a kind person...finally."
A brilliant smile lit up his face, "I don't know what to say, Ditto or Omae o Korosu. It seems to work fine for Heero," he sighed, his broad, but not too broad, shoulders rising and falling as he looked down on the woman who he realized was now shorter than himself, "all joking aside....I love you, too, Dorothy. Will you marry me?"
She smiled, "yes."
In pure happiness he hugged her to him, swinging her around in a wide circle as her laughter mingled with his. Maybe there were some good points to snow storms. Now all he had to do was get her to pluck her eyebrows....
LATER, ALL! -SHERRY1