Usual disclaimers apply, the same pairings hold, and Quatre is sentimental. Apologies for taking so long, life got crazy and it's only going to get worse from here. Random anime appearance of the month goes to Inu-Yasha!
Relena Darlian had no inclination to play the hostess for the remainder of the day. She had no guests other than the five researchers, and she'd given them free range of her castle and all of its facilities and personnel. With that decision made, she'd retired to her opulent chambers shortly after breakfast and made herself comfortable on a rose-colored divan, watching a repeat of the opera she missed the previous evening. The blonde woman sighed contentedly; she did so love Pavarotti, and likewise, her privacy. Being an heiress in the eye of the media was a taxing occupation, and it was quite nice to have uninterrupted solitude for once.
A sharp, obnoxious rapping intruded upon her thoughts, causing the young Frenchwoman to jump. Grumbling, but doing so in a dignified, ladylike fashion, she stormed to the door, adjusted her mask of social hospitality, and wrenched the heavy wooden door open. Duo Maxwell stood there, clad mostly in black, his jack-o-lantern grin disarming, almost unnerving.
"Hey, Miss Darlian! Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said brightly, thick Bostonian accent twanging in his voice.
"Oh, no, Monsieur Maxwell, not at all. What can I do for you?" Relena asked, blatantly lying through her teeth. Duo toed the floor with a thick-soled boot.
"Well, I was just wondering how attached you were to that ghost of yours. Like, if he were to, oh I don't know, leave forever, how would you feel?"
Relena arched a delicate eyebrow. "I'd be a little more than upset. The only real source of revenue for the Sanq Kingdom is this castle, and people only come here because it is haunted. If we were to lose the ghost, this kingdom would fall to ruins. Why do you ask?"
"I'll get to that later. But say you were to…well, fabricate the ghost story a little," Duo suggested. "You know, maybe get one of those girls to go around at night rattling doors and clanking around staircases and dressing up like a ghost. Scooby Doo it, if you will."
"Perhaps, but would having them do that conflict with the ghost story?"
The brunette man shrugged. "Then you make up a different one. Say that Quatre Winner…which is his name, by the way…was actually a woman, kept disguised so that her father wouldn't know that his only male heir was really a girl. And then you could say that she fell in the love with the castle painter, that Trois character, but because he thought she was a he, he didn't love her and instead loved one of her sisters. This causes Quatre to despair, and she throws herself out the window. Thus her ghost wanders the hall, hoping that someday her love will come to understand and they may be united. Or some load of bullshit like that."
Relena nodded thoughtfully. It was a good hypothesis, and she was getting sick of running into cold spots or being scared out of her wits in the night by sudden spectral intrusions. And she had more than enough violin music to last a lifetime.
"That sounds like a decent plan, Monsieur Maxwell. But you have yet to tell me what you plan on doing to get rid of Monsieur Quatre."
He grinned, scratching his head. "That was the other part of my question. What's your policy on holding sacrilegious rituals? If we put down a tarp and promise to clean up any blood, guts or other gooey things, would you mind if we performed one in the castle?"
Relena consented to the request, if only to get rid of the boisterous American and return to her beloved Pavarotti.
It wasn't until a short break to inform the viewers that it was indeed pledge drive month and the network needed money desperately that Duo's words actually sunk in. The Americans were planning on performing some sort of unholy ritual. In her spotless, majestic castle. A pagan ritual possibly involving blood, viscera, and "gooey things," and most definitely involving her ghost. She sighed heavily, wondering just how she got dragged into such incommodious messes.
~^~
Quatre was about as bored as a ghost could get. After spending most of the morning comforting Trowa and assuring him that death could not keep them separated, he'd sent his emotionally weary lover back up to bed for some much-deserved rest and a massage delivered from pale, bluish hands. Duo was running about like a fiend, mumbling to himself things regarding the ceremony he would be performing, and obviously in no condition to want to stop and spend some quality time with a bored ghost. He glided down the hallway, keeping his feet off the floor so as not to disturb Trowa, old castle floors did tend to resonate spectral footsteps far too much, deciding to visit with the rest of the Wing Agency and at least introduce himself.
The pale phantasm slipped through one of the cumbersome wooden doors silently, approaching the bed on which Wufei was seated, lotus position, meditating. He seemed to be muttering under his breath a prayer that some deity, Nataku, Quatre heard, would provide him with guidance and strength while everyone around him went mad.
"Monsieur Chang?" he asked, maintaining some distance from the intense technician.
"Go away, onna. I don't want anything right now, I said I'd tell you if I did," he growled, not once opening his eyes. Quatre sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Monsieur Chang, my name is Quatre Raberba Winner, I'm the young man you were sent here to study. I was hoping I could get a chance to talk to you."
Wufei opened his eyes, startled, falling out of his lotus position into an ungainly and unjust heap on the duvet cover. "A ghost? In my room? Kisama!"
"Please don't, I find it very annoying to be feared. I didn't choose to die and never cross over, it just happened."
The elegant young man frowned, dark eyes narrowed. "So it wasn't suicide. Hmph. I didn't think so, didn't think you had the guts to kill yourself."
"Gee, thanks," Quatre retorted sarcastically. "Monsieur Chang, I know you are a good friend of Trowa's, and I wanted to tell you that if something should go wrong tonight, that you need to be there for him. This is going to be very trying, and Trowa is going to need friends to fall back on."
Wufei bore an expression of skepticism, his face screwed up into an amusing visage. Quatre was already quietly disintegrating, melting back into the shadows.
"Hold it, ghost! I'm not finished with you! What do you mean I need to be there for Barton? What's going on tonight?" he shouted. But the specter had already passed. Wufei glowered, now more confused than ever, and not at all pleased that his meditation had been interrupted.
"Kisama, I knew I should've listened to my parents and gone into politics."
~^~
Heero was in his room as well, typing away at his laptop, the thick disc jockey headphones dangling around his neck. Zechs had returned correspondence, saying that he had no further information to give than his utter astonishment. He hadn't really expected that Zechs would have anything new to say, the blonde man was not the most learned of scholars in his opinion. He glanced down at his watch, wondering where Duo had wandered off to, then decided he'd rather not know.
"Hello, Quatre," he stated quite suddenly, still typing feverishly.
"How did you know I was here?" was the astonished reply, the young phantasm hovering in the corner he'd occupied for all of ten seconds.
"I knew you were coming. Duo may be psychic, but I'm at least seventy-eight percent clairvoyant."
Quatre sank into a little armchair near his corner, idly toying with the plush arm. "So then you must know what your husband is planning, Monsieur Yuy."
Heero shook his head. "I haven't seen Duo since this morning. I have no idea what odd notions he's come up with now, nor do I really want to know. Those things tend to get him into serious trouble."
"He's planning on resurrecting me, Monsieur Yuy," the turquoise-eyed ghost said matter-of-factly. "For Trowa. They'll need your help, I think, especially Monsieur Maxwell. Necromancy is something that really shouldn't be fooled around with, and he may just need some of your strength to draw on."
Heero nodded curtly, still not looking up from his laptop, intent on finishing his work.
"You care a lot about Trowa, don't you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Good. Trowa's been through enough hardships in his life, he needs someone like you to help him forget how painful life can be."
Quatre bit his lip. "What sort of hardships?"
Heero glanced up at him, piercing blue eyes cold, face grim. "That's not my business to say."
"Thank you very much, Monsieur Yuy. I shall see you later, I suppose."
The spirit evaporated into a cold mist that slipped under the doorway, leaving Heero to his solitude. The Japanese technician merely sighed, taking the headphones off and putting his laptop down. He'd just gotten a flash of something, a glimpse of what may be on the horizon.
"As usual, Duo's going to need me to bail him out," he muttered. "He never seems to learn to remember his wallet when he needs it."
~^~
Catherine was sitting in a wing chair in the library, legs tucked up under her chin as she read a copy of Inu-Yasha that she'd taken with her on the trip. Manga had become her current obsession, and lately found herself shelling out large amounts of money to expand her collection. She lifted a cold hand to turn the page, but found it had already been turned.
"I hate haunted castles," she whimpered, drawing her legs in tighter.
"Mademoiselle Catherine?"
The woman screamed, upturning the chair, still in it. She crashed to the floor with a heavy thud, cowering underneath it. The heavy chair was suddenly lifted, and she glanced up to see a smiling young man fixing his fluffy bangs. Correction, a smiling young man that she could see clear through.
"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Catherine, I did not mean to startle you."
She got up, leaning against the chair as if it would protect her. "I-it's okay. You're K-k-Quatre, aren't you?"
"Indeed. I was wondering if I could speak with you, Mademoiselle Catherine…about Trowa?"
"Trowa? What about Trowa?" she asked sternly, switching into full maternal mode, her fear abandoned.
"Simply put, I love him. He is my soul mate…no pun intended, and I could not think of existing without him, trite as that may sound."
The russet-haired woman massaged her temple, trying to convince herself she was not hearing what she was hearing. "You're in love with my Trowa? You've been dead for close to three centuries and you're in love with my brother? Shit, and I thought he was desperate."
"He's the only one I've seen in two hundred years that has understood me so well. Without even saying anything he knows how to make me happy, not even my former fiancé could do that. You do understand, yes?"
"I don't know," Catherine replied sheepishly. "This is almost too weird, even for me. I mean, ghosts are cool and all, but ghosts doing the horizontal mambo with my baby bro? Being a sister-in-law to somebody dead? Not my idea of a fun time."
Quatre shrugged. "Well, I'm being resurrected…if Monsieur Duo doesn't botch it."
"Hold the ectoplasm. Duo's going to be performing a sacrilegious, occultist ceremony? And he hasn't told me yet?!"
"So does this mean you're giving us your blessing, seeing as how you're Trowa's legal guardian…or were until he became of age."
Catherine nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I think I am. Aw, occult ceremonies are so cool! And hey, if it gets that grump off my ass about being lonely, by all means, mambo away."
Quatre smiled, slowly fading away. "Merci, Mademoiselle Catherine."
Catherine sat back down in her chair, picking up her manga again. She smiled a little to herself, realizing that with the addition of Quatre, she'd have one more family member to meddle in the life of. It was fun enough to meddle with Trowa, but to meddle with Trowa and a significant other would be nirvana.
"No, thank you, Quatre."
~^~
Short chapter, yes, but a chapter nonetheless. Things have gotten hectic for Madame Lia, and so as we approach the home stretch of Parapsychology, the remaining chapters will become fewer and farther between. This does not mean, however, that I am not going to finish it. It'll just take longer than initially projected.
Next Chapter: Final preparations for the ceremony, and Duo coerces the other into helping with some backbreaking manual labor. Fun will be had by all.