Chapter 23
Although it had been very difficult, Quatre let Jamila leave with Dorothy. True to his word, he had stayed away from the beach house for a week and did not go back until Rashid contacted him with a message from Dorothy informing him that she would like to return to her home with Jamila. He had considered refusing but realized that would be petty and probably hurt Jamila more than it would Dorothy. So he met them at the airport where they would be boarding his private jet to take them back to Europe. He didn't think his heart could ache any more when he parted from Jamila, but he was wrong. Standing with Dorothy after Jamila had settled in the jet as they casually discussed the details surrounding her stay, he felt as if cold blades sliced through his chest each time their gazes met and she looked away. After he agreed to take Jamila the weekend following her birthday in three months, Dorothy turned to leave and he almost reached out for her. But remembering her words and the impersonal argument they had the last time they were together, he remained rigid as he watched her climb the steps to the jet then disappear inside without a backward glance.
That was three months ago, three long months that he tried to fill with work by traveling from colony to colony and from one resource satellite to another trying to keep himself busy so that he could ignore the emptiness in his heart. The only bright spots during that time were the daily video messages that Jamila sent him, reporting on what she was doing, how much fun she was having, and especially how much she missed him. If Dorothy had just accepted his proposal, they could be living together instead of suffering apart. Then again, she had accepted his proposal under conditions that were similar to the conditions that Sadirah had set. At least Sadirah hadn't barred him from her bedroom although she had obviously found his attentions repugnant because of what had happened to her as a child. Dorothy was punishing him, and he would no longer take it when he had been as much a victim as she had.
So he set out to prove to both him and her that she didn't have the control on his heart that she thought she did. He took beautiful, glamorous women out on extravagant dates that did not fail to attract the press. But when the light faded from their flash cameras, Quatre left the hopeful women at their doors with a gentlemanly goodnight and returned to his own bed alone and frustrated because he didn't want any woman but Dorothy Catalonia in his arms. One or two of the women gave outlandish stories of his prowess as a lover, probably to save face after failing to seduce him or to challenge him to prove the veracity of his claims. His reputation as a playboy had returned although he had done nothing to merit it.
If his behavior bothered Dorothy, he had no evidence. The press had already linked them romantically, especially when the truth about Jamila became public, so he knew that Dorothy was nagged for comments about his personal behavior. Thus far she hadn't said anything beyond reminding the press that he was free to do as he pleased. Quatre couldn't help gleaning the media for any stories about her personal life, but beyond the unpleasant reminders of her past affairs with James Sheffield and Randolph Morrison, no scandalous behavior was attached to her name. The only mention he saw of her was the occasional story of her charitable work, which appeared on the society pages.
There was one name, however, that appeared in tandem with hers more than once. The first time he had read about him accompanying her to a charity auction, he dismissed it outright, but the next time he saw a report about his escorting her to a dinner party at the presidential residence, Quatre felt suspicion poking at an old wound. Obviously the reporters for the society pages and those from the gossip rags didn't communicate or something more would have been made of the fact that Heero Yuy made the social rounds with her. Each time he saw their names together, he researched Relena Darlian's whereabouts and discovered that the vice-foreign minister was traveling on behalf of the Earth Sphere United Nation. How convenient for them! He was tempted to contact Relena about the situation, but he didn't want to look like a jealous fool.
Well, he was a jealous fool. Even now as he entered the dining room at the ambassador's residence on L4, he couldn't help but imagine Dorothy with James Sheffield although it had happened years ago and the man was now clearly happy with Hadya.
"Quatre!" Hadya left her husband's side and came to take his hands, then kiss his cheeks. "I'm glad you could make it. I was afraid you would be too busy to attend."
"Too busy with work or with his women?" Despite her acid remark, Leila came to hug him.
"I'm not busy with women," he grumbled. "At least not as busy as the press would like people to think."
"If you were that busy," said Sheffield as he reached out to shake his hand, "I doubt you could walk straight."
Quatre took his hand although he still felt uncomfortable being face to face with Dorothy's former lover. "I'm sure you've been the victim of just as many rumors."
"In his case they were probably true," said Hadya with a playful jab of her elbow in Sheffield's side.
"We only have Quatre's word that the stories about him aren't true," baited Leila. There was a twinkle in her eyes so he knew that she was teasing.
Ahmed came forward to shake Quatre's hand. "It's good of you to visit. I thought you might be headed to Earth. Leila told me that you will be bringing Jamila back to L4."
"I was on my way when I received your invitation," he told Hadya. "I used the opportunity to check on the changes I ordered for the residence." Specifically, wiping all traces of Sadirah Barak from his home, the pictures of her, her things, anything she changed put back the way it had been during his father's lifetime. He didn't want anything left to remind Jamila of that woman.
"We're just glad you could be here." Hadya reached out to take her husband's hand and she was beaming with happiness as she looked at the assembled group. "We have an announcement. We're having a baby!"
There was a general outburst of congratulations and hugs for the couple, and while Quatre was happy for his sister, he felt miserable for himself. Sitting through dinner with Hadya and Sheffield amounted to torture for Quatre as he often caught the smiles meant only for each other, the occasional squeezing of hands, the casual innocent touching that served to underscore the obvious love they felt for each other.
When the meal concluded, they went to the salon where James helped himself to an after dinner drink while the women sat down together to talk about all things relating to babies. Quatre was about to excuse himself for the evening when Ahmed started talking about politics. The colony was slowly rebuilding under the competent guidance of Majid Al-Jazar. There were riots from time to time, which he managed to quell with the minimum amount of injury and the maximum amount of lenience. Majid championed the poor and voiceless as his charismatic brother had proclaimed to do but Mahmad was taking bribes to keep them under the heel of the powerful. Majid remained true to his ideals. Any followers of Barak's rebellion had no choice but to accept the new order on the colony. Quatre was glad that his instincts about Majid had proved to be correct, that he would be a great leader for his people.
Soon the topic of conversation drifted towards the news announced earlier and Ahmed was giving Sheffield advice about children, of which he had three, so Quatre excused himself to have a cigar on the patio.
Just as he was starting to feel more relaxed, Sheffield stepped out on the patio to join him. For a moment they did not speak, and Quatre lit himself another cigar while Sheffield sipped from his snifter of brandy.
Finally the other man said, "You're not coming back here without her, are you?"
Quatre knew he wasn't talking about Jamila. "Sweeping her off her feet and carrying her away doesn't work anymore."
Sheffield chuckled. "I noticed that she was growing a backbone. I imagine that it's pretty rigid by now."
"I'd rather not discuss Dorothy Catalonia with you," stated Quatre with a glance at Sheffield.
Shrugging, he sipped his brandy then said, "We can't change the past, and even though if may appear that we do not, we have some control over the future."
Quatre didn't feel as though had had control over anything at the moment.
"I can't believe that Dorothy would choose not to marry you. I know that this situation with Jamila would be abhorrent to her."
"It was her idea," Quatre told him without restraining his resentment. "I asked her to marry me, and she accepted only on the grounds that it would be for Jamila's sake only. She said that she didn't want us to have any more children."
The other man didn't respond for a moment as he swirled the liquid in his glass, then he said, "I think I would have taken that as a challenge."
"You don't understand the complexity of the situation."
"I do," Sheffield told him with a frown. "I was there when she needed a pair of strong arms to comfort her while she tried to heal. Had I known what had really happened to break her spirit, I wouldn't have given up so easy on trying to make her forget you." He took a sip of brandy. "Fortunately things worked out for me they way they have. I love Hadya more than I thought possible. If you have even half the feelings for Dorothy that I do for your sister, then I feel truly sorry for you that you cannot be with her."
Footsteps behind them made them both turn to see the others come onto the patio. "I wondered where you were!" exclaimed Hadya as she slipped an arm around Sheffield's waist and snuggled into the circle of his embrace.
"Leave it to my brother to be standing around in the dark feeling sorry for himself as he gets high on hash," Leila remarked acidly.
"I'm not getting high," grumbled Quatre. There was so little hashish in his cigars that he would have to smoke at least a dozen before he began to feel anything more than the relaxing effect he was trying to achieve. At the moment the effect was quickly wearing off.
"I didn't hear you deny feeling sorry for yourself." Leila stared straight at him with the look she must have perfected from hours of watching the frowns of disapproval their father had reserved for him.
Quatre glanced at Ahmed. "I see that you haven't found a way to curb her tongue."
His brother-in-law shrugged. "Sometimes she says things the rest of us would like to."
"And the rest of us are wondering why you haven't married Jamila's mother," said Hadya.
"She won't marry me," Quatre told them.
"I don't understand why not." Hadya was resting her head on Sheffield's shoulder as she looked at him. "Doesn't she love you?"
"That's ridiculous!" Sheffield snorted derisively. "Dorothy is so much in love with him that she can't think straight."
"I'd think you would have felt it," stated Leila, alluding to his faint empathic abilities.
"I can't seem to read her feelings," Quatre admitted. He often felt the emotions of others, but Dorothy's were blank to him. He had to rely on her words and actions, and at the moment he could make no sense of them.
"Even I don't need to be empathic to understand her feelings." Leila folded her arms over her chest. "From everything I know, you've been a complete ass with her. I cannot even imagine why she clings to her feelings for you, but she does. I could see it in her eyes when I tried to spook her away from you. She was more concerned for you and Jamila than she was for herself. Whatever problem the two of you can't work out is coming from you."
"Maybe he doesn't love her," suggested Hadya shyly. "Maybe she is just the woman who happens to be Jamila's mother."
"I didn't say that I didn't love her." Quatre was not appreciating their personal attack.
"I didn't hear you say that you did love her," remarked Sheffield.
"I think we all heard him say it," spoke up Ahmed. "On the day the two of you married, the day the treaty was signed."
"The day Dorothy Catalonia ran away," added Leila. She raised a brow as she looked at Quatre. "I don't suppose you bothered to tell her how you feel."
"She knows how I feel," Quatre snapped defensively. Then he added uncertainly, "At least she should know how I feel."
"This is a classic problem in diplomacy," said Sheffield. "There is a complete breakdown of communication. You claim to not know her feelings although the rest of us are in complete agreement that she couldn't love you any more than she does. And then you turn around and say that she has developed mind-reading skills so that she knows how you feel. Have you ever told her how you feel?"
He had told her. He must have told her! Couldn't she feel it each time he touched her? Was it possible that she was receiving the same muddled signals from his words and actions that he was from hers?
"I think we have an answer to our question," commented Leila when he didn't respond.
"I don't need to be a diplomat to know the solution to this problem," said Hadya. "No woman wants to feel like she's being used. You don't have anything to give her that she doesn't already have, Quatre, except your love."
"What if she doesn't love me anymore?" He didn't mean to voice his worst fear.
"You're going to have to take that chance," Sheffield told him.
"You have nothing to lose," added Ahmed.
A little pride and a big chunk of his heart, thought Quatre.
He was glad now that he had stopped to visit the sisters that lived on L4. Given the nature of their birth, he supposed that he had never really considered them a family. Now he made it a point that he would become acquainted with each of the twenty-six other sisters scattered throughout the colonies and on Earth.
Before leaving L4 he was asked by Majid Al-Jazar to escort his niece back to L3 as she had been home on a vacation. Quatre had no objection until Yaminah Al-Jazar had boarded the Winner Corporation space shuttle. Almost a year at the university had changed the girl in more ways than one. She had been pretty before, but she had blossomed into the kind of sensually attractive young woman that he would prefer to steer clear of. Yaminah thanked him for the favor, and by the look in her dark eyes, she would do just about anything to return it. The flight was going to take at least twelve hours, and he didn't relish the idea of being trapped on the luxury shuttle with her, two pilots and a male flight attendant who discreetly disappeared shortly after take off.
Quatre made polite conversation by asking her about school, hoping to find some neutral ground between them. She remarked that the work was challenging and time-consuming, that she enjoyed her break from it immensely. By her tone, the glamour of becoming a doctor had hit the reality of the work that it required and she was no longer as enthusiastic as she had once been. When she fell silent, it wasn't the uncomfortable silence of a year ago when she was too shy to express herself. It was the kind of silence that drove Quatre to pull out his computer and excuse himself to sit at his desk after informing her that he had work to catch up on so that he could avoid her bold gaze. He was safer putting some distance between them or he was going to be forced to acknowledge her frank sexual interest one way or another. He preferred not to embarrass her by turning down the obvious invitation in her dark eyes, so he ignored her although she shifted many times on the plush chair to attract his attention to her shapely form. He was relieved when she put the chair back and fell asleep.
Deeming it safer than sitting in a chair, Quatre remained at the desk catching up on some business correspondence, then checking his personal mail. He was delighted to find a message from Jamila to take his mind off his present awkward situation.
"Hi, Papa!" She was smiling at him. He noted by the time of the message that she had sent it several hours earlier. "Don't forget my birthday party! It is in three days! I'm going to be five years old! I'm having a party with lots of my new friends at the playground. There is going to be cake and ice cream and balloons and clowns!"
Quatre was startled to realize that Jamila had never had a birthday party. He did recall formal gatherings at the Winner residence on L4 to mark the occasion, but they usually had little to do with Jamila and a lot to do with Hassan Barak's political projects. In hindsight Quatre realized that Barak had used the occasions to gather his allies for summit meetings while he had naively celebrated Jamila's birthday.
"Don't forget!" Jamila blew him a kiss, then she disappeared from view. He expected the screen to go blank, but suddenly Dorothy took Jamila's place. She looked tired and pale, and if he were actually speaking to her, he might have scolded her about keeping late hours with Heero Yuy.
"This means a lot to Jamila," she told him, her voice cool and calm. "She is expecting you to be there, and if you are not, even if she can forgive you, I will not."
The screen went blank from his end, and he looked up to see that Yaminah was leaning against the edge of the desk. She removed her finger from the power button on his computer. "Was that the woman you chose over me?"
Without responding to her sarcastic question, Quatre raised his head to look at her. "You should return to your seat."
She shook out her dark hair and raised her hand to begin unbuttoning her blouse. "I've learned a lot on L3."
Quatre knew she wasn't talking about learning requiring the taking of notes. "Does your uncle know the extent of your education?" Quatre could already see the headlines after this shuttle flight. "Your behavior reflects on him."
Yaminah undid the front hook on her lacy bra and leaned forward, but he kept his eyes away from what she wanted to see. While there was no doubt in his mind that she had learned enough tricks to keep them busy until reaching L3, Quatre was not aroused.
"I've read all about what you have been up to. Why not take what I am offering?" She reached out to take his hand and put it on her leg, then guided it upward under her skirt. "Only you and I would know."
Quatre snatched his hand away and resisted the urge to slap her face. "Go back to your seat now. If you are lucky I will not to inform your uncle of your behavior, because if I do, he won't hesitate to return you to L4 and put an end to your extracurricular studies."
Glaring at him with her lips compressed, she slid off the edge of the desk and pushed down her skirt. "You will regret this."
"I already do," he assured her. And she would regret it even more.
The headlines beat him to Earth. When he left the shuttle photographers and reporters besieged him demanding a comment on Yaminah Al-Jazar's claim that he had taken advantage of her. Quatre ignored them but was delayed by the crowd until his bodyguards finally muscled the press away and escorted him to a waiting limousine. Telling reporters that Yaminah was a vindictive liar wasn't going to change anything because they would rather believe the lies. He had contacted Majid immediately after leaving Yaminah at the shuttle port on L3 to inform him of her behavior. Yaminah's uncle had apologized profusely, then contacted Quatre later when the story hit the press begging forgiveness for her disgraceful behavior. By the time Quatre reached Earth, Yaminah had already been placed on a shuttle to return to L4 where she was probably going to receive a punishment she would not soon forget before she was handed over to a husband not of her choosing. Regardless, the damage was already done to Quatre's reputation.
Noting the time, he realized that he was going to be late for Jamila's party. Quatre felt a tension headache beginning as he imagined Dorothy's anger. How could he tell her how he felt if she were fuming about his missing Jamila's party, especially after this nasty business Yaminah? What woman in her right mind would give him another chance? When the car passed a flower shop, he ordered the driver to turn back and he purchased a large bouquet of red roses. They weren't as pretty as the roses Dorothy grew in her garden, but he hoped they would convey some meaning to her.
When the limousine pulled onto the residential block where Dorothy lived, it had to stop because the streets were blocked off all around the park. Quatre saw that the run-down little playground was brightly decorated with streamers and balloons, and that clowns were strolling among the children entertaining them. There must have been dozens of children, and he wondered how he would find Jamila when he climbed out holding the roses. He looked over the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of Dorothy, but he did not see her among the adults clustered together talking as they kept an eye on the children.
"Papa!"
The little body careened into him almost knocking him from his feet. Quatre looked down to see Jamila hugging his leg, and as he lifted her up to kiss her, he was afraid that he would see Dorothy standing back glaring at him. But he found Rashid was watching him with a smile instead.
"Welcome, Master Quatre. We were afraid that you wouldn't make it."
"I knew you would be here!" Jamila hugged him so tightly around the neck that he couldn't breathe for a moment. When she released him he drew in a breath.
"I'm sorry I am late," he told his daughter.
"You're not late," she said with a giggle. "I haven't had cake yet, and I have presents to hand out."
"Presents to hand out?" He glanced at Rashid.
"Many of the children are from an orphanage," he explained. "Missy Jamila is giving them gifts on her special day."
Leave it to Dorothy to use the occasion to further the cause of the new Romefeller Foundation. Quatre glanced around uneasily expecting the press to be waiting to pounce on him.
Rashid guessed his fear. "Pictures were taken earlier and the photographers were sent away so that we could celebrate in private."
Quatre looked over the crowd one more time, wondering why Dorothy hadn't come to greet him before turning his attention to Rashid. "Where is Miss Dorothy?"
"Mama went back home for a little while to lay down with Heero," announced Jamila.
Quatre looked quickly to Rashid whose face was burning red. "I think I should go say hello to them."
Before he could give Rashid a chance to explain, Quatre pushed Jamila into Rashid's arms and stalked through the children, ignoring the speculative looks on the adult's faces as he headed to the house where Dorothy lived. A few of the roses suffered from his swift gait, but by the time he reached the wrought iron security gate that was standing wide open, he realized what a fool he was being. Jamila didn't realize what she had said, that the order of her wording had given him her announcement completely different meaning. If Dorothy had arranged the party, then she was probably exhausted. Heero was being a gentleman in accompanying her back to her house for some peace and quiet.
He expected to find them sitting in the deserted living room, and when he didn't, Quatre couldn't help the suspicion that snaked through him. Tossing the bouquet of roses on the sofa, he quietly mounted the steps, but he stopped near the top when he heard their voices coming from her bedroom.
"You have got to tell Quatre, because if you don't, I will." Heero's voice sounded both frustrated and annoyed.
Quatre would have confronted them at that moment, but Dorothy's voice stopped him. "Don't you dare tell him before I have a chance! And don't tell Relena until I have spoken with Quatre."
"She is going to be furious," remarked Heero.
"I don't care! She'll just run to him at the first opportunity before I have a chance to talk to him. It's going to be shock enough as it is." Quatre heard Dorothy moan softly, and he fell back a few steps as he imagined what was happening in her bedroom. He wanted to barge in and beat Heero to a bloody pulp, but he couldn't make his feet move forward. If this was what Dorothy wanted, then who was he to stand in the way? Besides, if he caused a scene, it would ruin Jamila's special day. He would just have to wait until Dorothy told him her news, and in the meantime, he would prepare himself to hear the words she would use to inform him that she was marrying Heero Yuy.
Dorothy stumbled weakly from the bathroom where she had gone another round with the toilet close and personal as she heaved what was left that she hadn't vomited earlier when she hurried back to the house with Heero Yuy hot on her heels. Now he was standing at her window peering through the crack in her curtains.
"Are you spying?" she asked as she flopped on the bed and laid back as she waited for the waves of dizziness to pass. If it didn't soon she was going to have to head back to the bathroom.
He didn't take his eyes from the curtain. "I think I see Quatre Raberba Winner's limo. At least I'm reasonably sure it's his by the thugs standing around armed to the teeth. Do you think they're protecting him from danger or teenage virgins from him?"
Dorothy rolled on the bed to glare at him. "Did you have to bring that up?" She felt sick to her stomach again as she thought of the scandalous news story from L3 concerning Quatre's alleged seduction of Yaminah Al-Jazar. The girl made a convincing story dressed in a starched white blouse and prim ankle length skirt as she talked to reporters, but Dorothy had a hard time believing Quatre would be so stupid. The other women linked to his name, well, she just had to accept the fact that their separation was her choice and he was free to do as he pleased. And according to the press, he had done a lot of pleasing of himself.
"I see him with Jamila now," Heero told her, turning away from the window. "When are you going to tell him?"
"When I am damn good and ready!" She tried to sit up but had to lie down again. "I don't remember feeling this awful when I was pregnant with Jamila."
"I thought pregnant women were supposed to glow." Heero was looking at her with a frown. "You're a putrid green color."
"Thank you very much!" If she could move she would chuck her pillow at him. "Make yourself useful and get me a glass of water."
By the time he returned from the bathroom with the water, she had managed to pull herself to a sitting position. She sipped the water slowly and when her stomach had settled she rose unsteadily to her feet. "I don't know how I'm going to make it through today."
"By gritting your teeth and puking in the bushes," said Heero as he slipped an arm around her waist. "I'll help you down the steps."
Dorothy didn't refuse his help, but by the time she reached the bottom, she felt composed enough to shake him off and stop at a hall mirror where she ran her fingers through her hair and touched up her make-up. There were dark circles under her eyes and the comment Heero had made about her coloring didn't do justice to how wan and sickly she looked.
Turning around, she saw Heero holding a droopy bouquet of roses.
"Mr. Winner must have stopped by already."
She crossed the room and took the card he held out to her. At first she thought the roses might be for Jamila, but her name was written on the envelope. Slipping it open, she pulled the small card and when she read the message she felt moved to tears.
This is your special day as much as it is Jamila's.
Thank you for the gift of our daughter.
Quatre
Heero plucked the card from her hand before she could react, then tossed a handkerchief to her to dab away her tears. When she was finished sniffling, he said, "You had better put on some more makeup. You look like you have allergies."
After she did as he suggested and she didn't look much better than she had before, she left the house with Heero to return to the playground. Dorothy had hoped this period of morning sickness would be gone by Jamila's birthday, but she was suffering worse this day than any other day thus far. She suspected that it had to do with the fact that Quatre was here and she had the unpleasant task of telling him that she was pregnant. Dorothy just didn't think her life could become more tangled.
She spotted him immediately sitting cross-legged on the grass with Jamila in his lap watching a pair of clowns do a magic routine. Jamila clapped with delight when she was presented with a bouquet of tissue flowers the clown had pulled from behind her ear, and Dorothy felt her heart turn over to see Quatre smiling proudly down at his daughter.
"You're not going to need another handkerchief, are you?" asked Heero under his breath. "You're getting that watery look in your eyes and I don't carry more than one."
Dorothy bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, and she couldn't speak as she shook her head. Hormones, she told herself. This would pass.
When the clowns finished their show, Jamila announced that it was time to open presents and the children dashed to the carefully constructed pyramid of gifts Dorothy arranged to have delivered for the children. Jamila had helped her choose the gifts at the toy store, and now she stood back with delight watching them tear through the paper wrapping.
Quatre watched for a moment until one of the clowns approached him and he suddenly threw his arms around him. They stood at arm's length talking and Dorothy waited a moment before Heero bumped her to move forward.
"Let's get this over with," he muttered.
Dorothy came to them, but she spoke to the clown first, holding out her hand and smiling as he raised it to his lips. "That was a wonderful show, Mr. Barton. Jamila loved it."
"I'm just glad that I could be of assistance in helping her celebrate her birthday," said Trowa Barton, his green eyes resting on her for a moment, then turning back to Quatre. The last time the three of them had been together, she had just skewered Quatre through the chest with a saber and Trowa had helped him escape the Libra. He was probably wondering how they managed to create the perfect angel that was flitting about the boys and girls to exclaim with surprise over their gifts.
"Relena Darlian paid me a visit while the circus was performing on L2 several weeks ago," said Trowa. "She asked if I would have time to entertain at this party."
"I'm glad you did," Quatre said. "I haven't seen you in a long time."
Trowa raised a brow, glanced at Dorothy and back to Quatre and added, "A very long time."
Heero cleared his throat. "You've done quite a bit of traveling. Maybe you could answer a few questions for me about the state of peace on the colonies from the common man's perspective."
Trowa seemed perplexed for a moment by Heero's interruption and Dorothy wanted to kick Heero for his thinly veiled excuse to give her a moment alone with Quatre. But Trowa seemed to understand and he looked at Quatre. "You and I should get together before I have to leave again. I don't want another five years to fly by before we have a chance to catch up. Are you attending the president's ball tonight? Maybe we can talk there. I have the honor of escorting Relena Darlian."
An uncomfortable moment of silence ensued before Quatre looked at Heero. "Will you be working security tonight?"
"I have the night off," he said and left it at that.
Dorothy felt the tension between the two men, and she frowned at Heero before looking at Quatre. "I didn't know what your plans were, so I made arrangements to attend with Heero."
Heero put a hand on Trowa's shoulder. "Let's go watch the kids. Maybe you could make some balloon animals."
"I don't do balloon animals," Dorothy heard Trowa say as they walked away.
Dorothy stood with Quatre for a moment, both watching Jamila and not saying a word, then Quatre remarked, "I had almost given up hope that she could have this kind of life."
"But she misses you," Dorothy said with a sigh.
Quatre turned slowly to look at her. "She will miss you when we return to L4."
Dorothy fought the tears that threatened to crash over her lashes as she imagined her own loneliness when Jamila left. Instead, she changed the subject. "Thank you for the roses."
He didn't say anything as he looked away, but he wasn't watching Jamila. His gaze followed Heero Yuy. "I hadn't made any plans for the ball." His blue eyes fell on her with accusation that made her feel guilty.
"You shouldn't have any trouble finding a date," she said sharply.
"No, I shouldn't."
Dorothy took a breath to calm her nerves then said, "We shouldn't be arguing today."
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his casual pants. "No, we shouldn't." He didn't say anything more.
There was probably no good time to tell him that he was going to be a father again, but now she certainly couldn't do it although an inner voice was urging her to do so. She decided, for once, to listen to that voice. After working up the courage, she took a breath and said, "There is something I need to tell you."
"I already know," he interrupted her, his voice sharp as he looked at her.
"You know?" she was surprised and relieved, and yet she expected a different reaction from him than this restrained anger.
"I overheard you talking to Heero Yuy."
"Oh." That explained the roses left at her house. "I know this changes things between us..."
"I'd say so!"
Dorothy frowned. "I was hoping you would be pleased."
"Pleased?" He was talking through gritted teeth now. "What makes you think it would please me?" He threw up his arms and stalked away to where Jamila was standing. Pulling her up, he said something to her, kissed her cheeks, and then marched away to his limousine, signaling to his guards to follow.
Jamila stumbled to Dorothy, and Dorothy realized that she must have been wearing the same stricken expression as her daughter as they watched the limousine drive away. She didn't know which of them burst into tears first, but they were hugging each other when Heero returned without Trowa Barton.
"What the hell did you say to him?" asked Heero with annoyance.
"I told him," she answered between sobs. "He's angry!"
Heero was openly surprised. "I suppose a baby can put a crimp in his lifestyle. Kind of hard to bang a super model with an infant bawling in the next room."
"Go to hell!"
Heero chuckled as he put an arm around her shoulders. "I sent Trowa to talk to him. He'll find out what's bothering that horse's backside." He chucked Jamila under the chin. "Don't cry. Your Papa is probably tired from his trip through space. He made good time getting here as it was."
Sniffling, Jamila wiped her eyes. "He said he would see me tomorrow."
"You should be enjoying yourself with your new friends."
She bravely left them behind to return to her party. Dorothy steamed now with anger that Quatre could be so cruel to Jamila as to leave her in the middle of her party. Late afternoon the party came to an end shortly after Relena arrived with another truckload of gifts for the children to return to the orphanage with. Jamila was so exhausted that she fell deeply asleep on the couch and Dorothy doubted she would awake before morning. Heero carried her up to her bedroom and gently laid her on the bed so that she wouldn't wake. Dorothy hoped her daughter remembered that Dorothy was going out that evening so that in case she awoke she would be worried finding her gone. Dorothy had already made arrangements for the housekeeper to stay the night because Dorothy was sure she wouldn't be getting in until late.
When everyone was finally gone except Relena and Heero, Dorothy collapsed on the sofa and realized the roses Quatre had given her had not been put in water and were now limp. Angry, Dorothy threw the bouquet across the room to slam against the wall wishing it were Quatre Winner.
"Well," commented Relena as the roses fell in a broken heap on the floor, "I feel sorry for that suitor."
Pulling the card from his pocket, Heero flicked it to Relena. Dorothy was irked that he had kept it.
"How sweet!" exclaimed Relena after reading the message.
Dorothy snatched the card and tore it into many pieces before chucking the confetti at Relena.
Wiping away the mess, Relena looked curiously from Heero to Dorothy. "I think I'm missing something here."
"He's a bastard!" snapped Dorothy angrily.
"Because he bailed out on Jamila's party? Well, maybe that was somewhat cold-hearted, but I can't believe Quatre did such a thing without a good reason."
Dorothy was about to give her several good reasons to call Quatre any number of names when Heero's cell phone rang, and she waited as he took the call, grunting to most of the conversation on the other end. When he snapped the phone shut, he was smirking.
"Well?" demanded Dorothy. "Was that Trowa Barton?"
"They had lunch together and Winner spilled his guts. I know you're not going to think this is funny, Dorothy, but I think it's damn hilarious."
"I can't wait to hear it," grumbled Dorothy.
Relena put up her hand. "Just a minute! I want to be caught up. What is going on?"
"Dorothy is pregnant," announced Heero before Dorothy could answer. "Winner knocked her up again."
"What a nice way of putting it," murmured Dorothy with embarrassment.
"Satisfy my curiosity," started Heero as he leaned toward her. "Did he do it while you were in a drugged stupor in Monte Carlo?"
"Heero!" Relena glared at him, then looked at Dorothy with her brows raised in question.
Dorothy felt her face heating up, and then she blurted. "No! It happened on the way to Barbados when I was fully conscious, fully participating and fully enjoying it!"
"I thought he flew the jet there," commented Heero thoughtfully. "How…?" Dorothy could see that he was trying to imagine them having sex in the cockpit of his private jet.
"What did Trowa Barton say?" asked Dorothy to steer the conversation away from its present subject.
"Why didn't you tell me about your condition?" Relena sounded hurt. "You told Heero before you told me? You told Heero before you told Quatre?!"
"I didn't tell him a damn thing!" Dorothy was getting a headache. "He guessed. He's not as stupid as he looks."
Relena didn't seem to believe her, but Dorothy wasn't going to spend any more time soothing her hurt feelings. "Are you going to tell me what Trowa Barton said?" she demanded of Heero.
"Did you actually tell Winner that you are pregnant?"
Dorothy frowned. "He…he said he overheard us talking!"
"I don't know what he overheard, but whatever we said was enough to convince him that you and I are planning to get married."
"What?" Dorothy was torn between shouting in frustration and laughing. "How could he get such a stupid notion?"
Heero chuckled. "I guess he's been keeping tabs on you and has seen how many times we've been together lately."
"He has lost his mind! Doesn't he realize that you may have been assigned to protect me? My association with him has made me a target for the same lunatics that he fears!"
Relena sighed. "I knew we shouldn't have done this undercover bodyguard act again. It causes nothing but trouble. Well, the last time we did it on L4, Hadya Winner and James Sheffield ended up married. Maybe this time…" She looked at Dorothy speculatively.
"I wouldn't marry that idiot if he were the last man on Earth!"
"He was angry enough to leave Jamila's party," commented Relena. "I think he's deeply hurt because he's in love with you and he can't stand the thought of you marrying Heero."
"I can't stand the thought of marrying Heero," grumbled Dorothy, then she asked with all her pent-up frustration, "If he loves me, then why doesn't he say so?"
Relena sighed as she glanced at Heero, but she was speaking to Dorothy. "Some men are just too afraid of getting hurt."
Heero gave Relena a half smile.
Relena looked at Dorothy with a told-you-so lift to her brows.
Dorothy wanted to believe them, but while Quatre said nothing to her, his actions spoke volumes. "Just how long will I have to wait before he trusts me enough to say it?"
"In his present state of mind," began Heero, "until hell freezes over."
Dorothy felt her eyes watering again.
Relena laughed and put an arm around her. "Don't listen to him! Get some rest, make yourself as beautiful as you can, and Heero will be at his most charming and handsome tonight. There's nothing like a little jealousy to give a man a good kick in the rear. I guarantee that you're going to hear what you want."
"Either that or I'm going to have my brains blown out by several middle-eastern types," snorted Heero.
Dorothy dared to hope that Relena was right.
