AN: this chap came to me on my trip to san fran... SFO is actually a great airport... but philly pretty much sux... so somewhat based on my experience... and the last scene was one i had in my head ever since i started this fic... u kno how in those romantic comedies, they have the potential couple always just missing each other at the grocery store? ok well even if u don't i hope i described it well enough for u to understand what's going on... ugh ok i should stop rambling now... hope u enjoy!!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charactersor the songs or anything at all please feed the poor college student w/reviews of course!
So Close... And Yet So Far
Part Six: Perfect Timing
"Khalid! Can't you go any faster?"
"I'm sorry, Master Quatre, but the rain is making the traffic slow down considerably."
Quatre groaned inwardly. He knew exactly how Dorothy would react to waiting for him for and hour and a half. She would stand there with her affected smile, crossed arms, and an icy glare letting him know exactly how much she disliked to be kept waiting. Maybe I'm overreacting, he reassured himself. She has become a bitwarmer over the past year. "We're here, Master Quatre"
"Thank you, Khalid. I'll call you when I find Miss Dorothy," he called as he pretty much flew out the limo door. He circled the baggage claim area. He knew she would still be at the airport no matter what. God forbid she would take a taxi. That was a bit caustic. She's rubbing off on me, Quatre realized in surprise. He finally spotted her long blonde hair at the Universal Café that was situated in the waiting area of the terminal. Those things really are everywhere! (AN: think Starbucks) She turned around, her glare not as icy as he expected, though the smile was very much affected. She was gripping a tall latte in one hand and her roll-away suitcase with the other. "Miss Dorothy!" he called out. Her glare seemed to soften as she made eye contact in acknowledgement. When he finally made his way to her, her tirade began.
"I can't believe this! Making me wait for more than an hour. I mean, how much can one person take? This is outrageous." Her eyes flashed dangerously. Quatre debated on defending himself, and just as he was about to open his mouth to do so, she started again. "These shuttle companies have no concept of humane treatment, let alone customer satisfaction." Shuttle companies? What is she talking about? "They had us circling above the runway for a full hour. I didn't even know that they carried enough fuel to do that!" The flood of relief that passed through him seemed to wash away all the tension he had been feeling since he woke up. "I'm glad you find this so amusing Mr. Winner."
"Wha–" Quatre pulled himself out of his reverie, " I–no Miss Dorothy, I find this quite inexcusable. We should file a complaint," he glanced at his watch, "later. I have to be in a meeting at Preventer HQ in half an hour."
"Oh? I have some information you could present. I pulled some strings with some old friends and I gathered a list of a few names the Preventers should check out." They climbed into the limo and she unzipped her bag, rummaging through it. "I can't believe this."
"What is it?" Quatre asked, concerned.
"This isn't my bag. I picked up the wrong one. Can this day get any worse?!" At that moment, Quatre couldn't help but feel relieved that she wasn't holding any sharp objects. "I just need to get back to the hotel and take a hot bath."
"UmMiss Dorothy, I wouldn't advise going back to the hotel at this time." Quatre suggested cautiously.
"And why is that?" replied Dorothy, trying to keep her voice level.
"The press has been camped out there since early this morning," he explained. She just wanted to scream, or stab somethingsomeone, whatever. As if sensing her thoughts, Quatre shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You know, this area has a wonderful commercial district. Perhaps you may enjoy a bit of shopping, to make up for your misplaced items?" he attempted to mollify the situation. It seemed to work and her glacial expression softened a bit. "I have to go to HQ, but Khalid will take you anywhere you want to go. There are some great shoe stores around here," he added with a twinkle in his eye. The car came to a halt in front of the intimidating structure that was known as HQ to the locals. "Enjoy yourself, Miss Dorothy. And I won't have you spend a penny. It's all on me."
"But–" he closed the car door before she could finish. How does he do that? I feel like a million bucks. And I haven't even done any shoe shopping yet!
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The forlorn song of a piano filtered through the room, unnoticed by all the occupants but one. Duo's chair was precariously balanced on its two back legs, while the table behind supported the back of it. His eyes were glued to the screen that was fixed in the corner of the ceiling.
There have been many men that have filtered in an out of the Foreign Minister's life. Her fathers, one biological, one foster. Her brother, lost in the chaos of war, found again at the end. Countless beaux, none who seem to catch her interest. But there has always been one constant.'
Three heads perked up in attention to the last statement.
"Oh, this is gonna be good." Duo muttered to himself.
Quatre Raberba Winner, the young heir to the Winner fortune and CEO of Winner Enterprises Inc., has been by Ms. Darlian-Peacecraft's side since the Eve Wars. His–
Crash! Duo's chair toppled over, him with it. He was shaking uncontrollably. Trowa started towards him in concern. His face was beet red, tears streaming down his face. He was laughing. "I can't believe itQuatre! Hahahaha, of all people, Quatre," he whooped. Heero, who was glaring at the TV, now turned his glare to Duo. Heero did not find this at all funny. Wufei had his own way of reacting to it.
"Those dishonorable journalists! Have they no sense of decency or respect? This is an injustice to the Minister!"
Quatre walked into quite an interesting situation indeed. Duo sprawled on the ground, laughing hysterically, while Trowa regarded him with a quirked eyebrow. Wufei was ranting about something Quatre couldn't really make out, until he noticed the target of Heero's glare. There, on the TV screen, were Relena and Quatre talking and smiling at each other at a conference. The reporter droned on, barely audible above Duo's laughter, but enough so all five pilots heard the reporter's last statement.
According to some inside sources, an engagement was purportedly to have taken place on the Minister's last trip to L4, where she spent quite a bit of time at the Winner estate. The couple had expected to announce the happy event at the next Peace Day Parade.'
The shade of Quatre's complexion rivaled Duo's, as his face flushed in embarrassment. Heero, who had finally noticed Quatre's presence, was now directing his glare towards him.
"Hello Quatre." Everyone's actions stopped abruptly at the sound of Trowa's voice, as if he had flipped a switch.
Duo picked himself up, with a little help from Trowa. The TV was still blaring.
We're here now at the site of the explosion. Ms. Darlian is still trapped underneath the wreckage. Across the street is the Noventa hotel, where we recently spoke to a few key people.'
An image of Noin and Zechs in the elevator quickly flashed across the screen, along with some other uncooperative government officials. A realization came to Quatre.
"Trowa, how did you get out of the hotel?"
"Bellhop," was all Trowa had to say. He could always find ways to remain unnoticed. "You?"
"I had to climb out a window, with Mr. Milliardo and Miss Noin." Duo, who was still recovering from his laughter, had to stop himself from chuckling. It hurt his stomach too much.
The reporter on the screen finally found a victim, a heavyset man in his late forties. Senator Tausend! Do you have anything to say about the rumors that this new organization may have mobile suits?
All I have to say is that this is exactly what I was afraid of when the Foreign Minister was advocating disarmament. Because we have no way of defending ourselves, any radical organization can take over the government if they have mobile suits.
Sir, you're last proposition to form a military was vetoed by the Senate because of the Minister's influence on the vote. Do you have any plans of re-presenting it?' It seemed that this last question's connotations did not seem favorable to the politician and he weaseled out of the reporter's clutches.
Click. Wufei turned off the TV that was causing so much distraction.
"We need to get some work done now, if you don't mind Maxwell."
"Have you guys written a report on last night's mission?" Heero questioned. Wufei and Duo both looked surprised and then gave each other accusing looks. It was Trowa who replied.
"Not yet."
"Fei, why didn't you write it?"
"Dammit Maxwell, don't call me that! And why should I write it? I didn't even see the inside of the base. I was just the lookout and the getaway."
"Hey you're the full time Preventer. I thought you were used to this stuff."
"Wufei, Duo, get it done after the meeting. Did anything unusual happen?"
Wufei muttered something under his breath about the injustice of having to work with Maxwell.
"Other than the fact that there were no soldiers to arrest, no." Duo replied. Heero's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we arrested a few engineers, and interrogated a couple guards, but there were no pilots."
"At all?" piped in Quatre.
Duo shook his head.
"Duo, are you trying to tell me that this base, with two-hundred and fifty mobile suits, had no barracks for pilots or soldiers?" Duo shrugged.
"I thought it was strange too," Trowa jumped in. "The engineers said that they had no contact with any pilots, either." Trowa could see the gears turning in Heero's mind. His eyes were unfocused as if staring at some far way object.
"Quatre, you get ready for the press conference. Deny any existence of enemy MS if you can. Trowa, I need you to come with me. I've got another lead."
**********************************
Ice blue eyes scrutinized very carefully, concentrated on an extremely vital mission. Failure was not an option. Dorothy was searching for the perfect black sandal. Her hands trailed gently along the display. The door jingled at the entrance of another customer as Dorothy finally found what she was looking for. She signaled to the salesperson, who hurried to her side.
"Yes?" said the very eager clerk.
"I need this in a size 8."
"Yes ma'am."
Relena looked greedily at the rows of shoes. She hadn't been shopping in ages. There was never any time to any more. The salesgirl whizzed past her, and Relena looked at her in surprise. Dorothy had moved into the next aisle, unnoticed by the new customer. She moved on to look at some pumps, while Relena, perfectly parallel with her on the opposite side of the shoe rack, looked for some boots. After finding a great pair of knee-highs, Relena moved towards the back of the store, as Dorothy walked up to the front.
With a synchronization that was almost surreal, they each entered the aisle that the other had just left, from opposite ends. Relena's eyes caught sight of the same strappy sandals Dorothy had just selected. She called to the salesgirl and asked for a size 6 and a half. She and Hilde had the same shoe size. Hilde had more than once bought her a pair of shoes, which was one of the reasons Relena hadn't found the need to go shopping in a while.
Having found something she liked, Relena walked towards the register, where Dorothy was at that very moment. Her back was facing Relena, and just as Dorothy turned to face her direction, Relena accidentally knocked over one of the displays. She bent down to pick up the shoe, and as she raised herself back up, Dorothy had finished paying. As she waited for the clerk to bag her purchase, her gaze wandered to the selection of handbags. Relena came up to the register, and when the girl told her the price, she began to rummage through her bag, trying to find some currency that would be untraceable. Dorothy looked towards the register, as Relena's head was bent down to look in her bag. She was still wearing that hideous fisherman's cap and Dorothy looked in slight disgust at this woman's fashion sense, unaware that it was her friend. Dorothy continued examining the handbags until the tag caught her eye. Genuine Imitation. She pulled her hand away in disgust, as if the bags were covered in slime.
Relena finally found something she could pay with and completed her purchase. Dorothy was on her way out as Relena followed behind her. They exited through the door simultaneously, their shopping bags colliding with each other.
"Excuse me."
"Sorry."
They turned in opposite directions onto the sidewalk, and walked away from each other, never knowing that they had missed each other with perfect timing.
