Okay, the last Episode was dripping with sap so much, it left syrup stains on my keyboard. Time to slowly start adding some danger, a pinch at a time. =^_~= muahahaha....oh, by the way, there will be a little longer gap between this episode and the next, to give me time to slip in an unrelated ficcie.

Disclaimer #1: I had three dozen of those damn "Roll Up the Rim to Win" cups from Tim Hortons over the last two months, and not ONE of them said "You win ultimate control over Gundam Wing and all the characters therein." I did, however, win two coffees, a bagel, a couple of donuts, and a cookie. I don't have them anymore *burp* so you can't sue me for them. =P

Disclaimer #2: I was an English major, so when I write, I write wordy. You have been warned. Muahahahahaaaa....
Suggested font: Times New Roman
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Episode Six: Powers of Persuasion

"Our sense of power is more vivid when we break a man's spirit than when we win his heart." ~Eric Hoffer

June 21st, 1901

Relena listened patiently to Heero's status report over her morning tea. The house was coming along nicely, and the staff were getting along fairly well together. All in all, he painted a highly efficient picture, partly by leaving out a few details that he decided she didn't need to know just yet. The manor would soon be in excellent shape for the Count's arrival. "However," the butler added curtly, "once the guests are actually here, I forsee one or two problems arising."

She sighed, knowing it sounded too good to be true. "What sort of problems?"

Heero topped up her cup of tea and set the teapot down delicately. "The housemaids have been complaining to me about their workload. Apparently they feel there should be one more of them at least, otherwise they say they won't be able to keep up once the guests arrive."

Relena nodded. "Opinion?"

"Even operating at maximum efficiency, there is still a significant portion of their work left unfinished at the end of the day. Doris told me that even if they had a laundry maid helping them, it would drastically improve their productivity." Heero's voice was cold and unwavering throughout his speech.

Relena buttered a raisin scone and nodded again. "You said one or two problems. What's the other one?" she asked, taking a tiny, dignified bite.

Heero hesitated, thinking of the best way to approach the subject. "Duo may also require assistance in the kitchen. He's been managing well enough up to this point, but--"

"But once the guests arrive, yes, I know. The workload increases, the amount of effort he puts into the meals increases, and the number of hours in a day stays the same." She took a sip of tea and mulled over the situation. "So, it comes down to needing a laundry maid and a scullery maid...if we're lucky, maybe we can find someone to do both."

A quiet cough and a faint knock at the conservatory door drew her attention away from Heero. Standing out in the hall was Duo, in his crisp white chef's uniform, with his hat in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. "'Scuse me, Miss, but I, uh...wanted to go over some suggestions for the menu, for when the Count arrives," he said weakly. The chef wasn't his usual bubbly self for some reason.

"Oh yes, of course, do come in," Relena granted. Duo walked up to her and held out the paper, casting a nervous glance in Heero's direction from time to time. Relena took the page and looked it over, then grew puzzled. "Your handwriting is an awful lot like Quatre's, isn't it?"

Heero looked over her shoulder at the writing and fought back a smile; telling Relena her chef was illiterate would technically be the right thing to do, but he found it amusing to watch the chef squirm, and he wasn't sure why. "It is Quatre's, m'lady." Duo gave him a frightened look, pleading with him not to reveal his secret. "Duo was in the middle of cooking something and didn't want to spill anything on the list, so he had Quatre write it out for him."

Duo gave him a grateful smile; his principles wouldn't allow him to lie to Relena, even to save his job, so Heero lied for him. He quickly changed the subject so she wouldn't have time to think about what was just said. "Did I hear your Ladyship say you needed another maid?"

"Yes, I did. Why?"

The chef swallowed and fiddled with the floppy hat in his hands. "Well, I know this girl...she's a really hard worker, and not fussy about what kind of work she does. If I could get her here...would your Ladyship be willing to give her a chance at the job?"

Relena thought for a moment. "Very well, tell her to come tomorrow for an interview, but I'm not making any promises."

"Uh...well, the thing of it is," Duo stumbled, "I'm not sure if she can make it tomorrow. Y'see, she moves around a lot, and, um...I'd kinda hafta find her first."

Heero frowned; he knew what that meant. The girl Duo spoke of must be just as homeless as he himself had been until recently, and while the arrangement with the chef had worked out so far, Heero wasn't keen on the idea of giving a job to absolutely anyone off the street just because they were friends with a member of the staff. He didn't like the turn this conversation was taking.

Relena looked exasperated. "You have to find her first?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Duo, but I can't hold the position open indefinitely. We shall advertise the post properly and interview the applicants, and if we hire someone else while you're looking for her, that's her own hard luck."

Duo's eyes lit up regardless. "But if I find her, you'll talk to her?"

"Well...alright, yes, I'll--"

"Great!" he hollered. "Gotta go!" He sped out the door leaving a little puff of dust hanging over the carpet where he stood. Heero shook his head slightly and Relena simply stared.

Setting aside the rather odd exchange, Lady Peacecraft dismissed her servant and continued with her breakfast. Heero made a perfectly-timed hike to the front door and arrived at the exact same second as the postman; the poor fellow didn't even have time to ring the bell before the door opened and the stack of letters was snatched out of his hands. The whole process took about six seconds and was becoming a fine art.

Heero distributed the morning mail and, as happened occasionally, there was one letter left over, posted from a village north of London. It was marked 'urgent' on the envelope; that wasn't normally the case. Heero took his letter to a remote corner of the main floor and opened it quickly, absorbing the contents while looking over his shoulder. Treize was ready to leave Warsaw any day now, as reported by contacts in eastern Europe, and it was an 'essential task' that Heero learn all he could about the Count from his niece or any other source prior to his arrival. In other words, quit wasting time serving tea and dusting knick-knacks and get some real work done. He nearly tore up the letter in anger, despite the fact that he'd be burning it later anyway for security reasons. Don't trust me enough to complete even the simplest tasks, do you?

Miffed but outwardly calm, he stalked back up to the conservatory to see if Relena was finished eating. The two of them were going out today...alone. There would be plenty of opportunities to learn all he needed to know.

**********

This, Relena hoped, would be only the first of many outings she and Heero would enjoy alone together. 'Alone' was a technical term that didn't include Trowa and the two horses pulling the carriage, but that was beside the point. They were going to Berkshire together, to the Royal Ascot races, which was a must-attend for all members of the upper social circles.

The girl chattered incessantly the entire trip; Heero stared out the window most of the time, turning his head and nodding occasionally to give the illusion that he was actually listening to her prattle. True to her roots, she had been raised as a socialite, and had very little of substance to say.

"Oh, look at those hats! Aren't some of them fanciful! Do you think mine is too much? I thought of wearing my straw hat with the flowers and the ribbon hanging down the back, but I didn't think the brim would be wide enough in this sun...oh, see that pink dress over there? I have one almost identical to it! Good thing I didn't wear that, can you imagine the embarassment? Us showing up in the same dress, what would people think? Oh, look at that blue hat over there! Isn't it lovely?" It probably wasn't her fault that she turned out so vapid, but she made no effort to improve herself intellectually, either. Heero found that to be a great pity.

Their carriage was making it's way past the fairgrounds, just a short walk from the racetrack. The races would begin at 2pm, leaving them plenty of time to sample the delicacies that were offered for lunch. All around were ladies in formal dresses and magnificent hats, and gentlemen in their finest suits and top hats. Track officials were milling about in bowler hats and business suits, and bookies with leather bags hanging off their shoulders were quietly taking bets from the spectators.

"Let's have a bite to eat, shall we?" Relena suggested, pulling her companion towards one of the picnic areas. He offered neither input nor protest as she picked out a socially enviable table between the Duke of Lancaster and the Minister of Foreign Affairs. The races themselves were apparently secondary in importance to being seen around the right people.

Relena started in on the tea and sandwiches, causing her to stop talking long enough to realize that Heero had hardly said a word since leaving the manor. "Is anything the matter? You're awfully quiet today."

Heero lounged back in his chair, enjoying the snooty, disapproving looks he got from the other guests. Not wearing a hat was one thing, acting casual was downright insulting! He smirked inwardly. "I'm always quiet, aren't I?"

Relena shrugged. "I would think you might at least try to make conversation, today of all days. It's not a time to be sulky, it's a time to socialize! Make an effort for once!"

"Very well." Enough pussyfooting around; time to turn on the prefabricated Yuy charm. He beckoned over one of the waiters in white coats and black bow ties and asked for a bottle of champagne. Relena looked up in surprise and nearly gasped at what she saw in the eyes that used to frighten her so. Heero gave her a smoldering look that no ordinary servant would dare bestow upon his fair, delicate employer...a look that promised all the dangerous pleasures forbidden to young ladies of her station. His voice changed from frosty and calculating to warm and smoky in a heartbeat.

"Tell me about your uncle," he said.

It took Relena a moment to drag herself out of her fantasy and answer him. "Uncle Treize? Well, he's fabulously wealthy, one of the richest men in Europe! He owns four castles, two in Germany, one in Poland, one in...well, I forget where the last one is, but I hear they're all exquisite!" She seemed to raise her voice a little, as if hoping to impress the people at adjacent tables.

"You've never visited?" The champagne arrived and he filled both their glasses, hers a little higher than his.

"Well, no" she said, taking her glass. "Uncle Treize is actually my father's half-brother, and we never saw that side of the family. Father was the elder of the two anyway, so we didn't worry ourselves with our comparitive social condition. Being the eldest made Father the rightful heir to the Peacecraft legacy, so having a half-brother never made him feel threatened. Grandmama simply remarried a German nobleman after Grandfather died, and that was that. It was hardly even spoken of."

"What a shame you never had a chance to meet him..." Heero waited for her to take the first sip of the bubbly liquid before sampling his own. "Still, I'm sure he wouldn't have been lonely...plenty of friends and relatives in Europe, right?"

"Oh, but yes! Uncle Treize has never been short of a few friends!" She took another sip, feeling more liberated by the minute. "Even though our side of the family never saw his, he and father often wrote to each other, and my uncle would tell us all about his exciting social gatherings and the people there...father would read his letters to me, by the fire..." She trailed off into a cloud of happy memories, of sitting by the fireside while her father narrated the fanciful tales spun by her uncle's pen.

"Anyone particularly interesting?" Heero prodded gently.

Relena blushed at having revealed so much of herself to her servant. "Oh, I couldn't say, really..." Wanting an excuse to leave the subject gracefully, she set the champagne down and looked instead at the posh silver trays full of tiny cakes, fruit tarts and dainties that had been specially prepared for the occasion. "Don't these look lovely!" She took off one glove and looked over the selection.

As she reached for a bit of sponge cake, Heero met her hand halfway and took hold of it, gently but firmly, and pulled it closer to his side of the table. Relena shivered at the contact and drew in a quick breath. Rubbing the backs of her thin fingers with his thumb, Heero caught her shocked glance and refused to let go. "These letters," he said in that dark, husky tone she remembered fondly from their first meeting, "could I read them sometime?"

Relena was frozen in his grasp. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. His hand was so warm and soft around hers, she just wanted the rest of the world to disappear, to leave her alone with his flaming touch. "I...uh..."

"Not that I mean to intrude, far from it," he said soothingly, "but I do feel it would help me understand you better...to hear the same words you heard as a child...to know what you know..."

The girl was melting, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the summer sun. She licked her suddenly dry lips and swallowed. "Of course...the letters are in my father's study. I'll get them for you when we return," she said breathlessly.

Heero released her hand, satisfied with her answer. "Thank you." He watched her pulse and breath rate slowly return to normal, always keeping a firm eye on her, always keeping her a little bit under his spell. Thank you very much indeed. Correspondence written in Khushrenada's own hand, now that could be very useful...thank you, Miss Relena. Mentally patting himself on the back for a job well done, he drained his glass of champagne in one gulp.

They frittered away the next hour and a half saying very little until it was time to take their seats in the Royal Enclosure. Heero was nearly turned away for not having a top hat on, but Lady Peacecraft pulled rank on the minor track official and threatened to cause a scene if he wasn't admitted. She won rather quickly.

Relena settled in for what she hoped would be a tremendously entertaining afternoon of high-quality horse racing; fate, however, had other plans. A woman in a very grand hat and a designer gown that simply screamed 'high class' as well as 'high price tag' sat next to Heero and leaned right in front of him to greet the blonde girl to his left. "Why hello there!"

The voice was smooth, snide, and full of cheerful contempt. Relena knew it instantly. "Lady Une, lovely to see you again..."

"I must admit, I'm rather surprised to see you here. Didn't imagine you could get past the front door without daddy holding your hand." Une sat back in her chair and fanned herself like a Persian cat flicking it's tail haughtily.

Relena smiled sweetly, staring forward at the racetrack. "I didn't expect to see you here without a new suitor on your arm. Slow week, is it?"

The brunette stared forward also, with a smile half as sweet and twice as forced. "I'd expect a remark like that from the ill-mannered and ill-bred."

"I suppose if you spent enough time with them, you'd get to know them very well."

"Well, if the common folk insist on hovering around me, they must want to learn my secrets of superiority."

"I do hate it when unworthy people claim to be superior, it makes life so much more difficult for those of us who actually are."

Very politely phrased insults passed between the women one after another in rapid succession. Heero wondered if they actually knew he was there, or if they were putting on this little display for his benefit, to show which of them could hold out the longest without running away in tears. Whatever was going on between them ran deep, and had a long history. He sat quite still and said nothing; best not to get involved.

"The mark of quality always finds it way to the right people, and the right people won't mind a bit if I attend a gathering unescorted." Une turned her head just enough to look Heero over from head to toe. "And if I thought they would mind, I certainly wouldn't resort to parading around with one of the staff. It's called class, my dear."

Relena's head whipped around with a mixed expression of pride and hatred. "I don't see how it could possibly be any of your business who I'm escorted by, and if our positions were reversed, I'd have twice the class you'd have because I wouldn't draw attention to it!"

Une laughed and folded her delicate lace fan in her lap. "Careful, my dear, mustn't get defensive or people might think there's something sordid between you two to be defensive about!" Heero could only raise an eyebrow at her, more from fear of doing her physical harm than heed for his lowly position compared to hers.

"How dare you make such an insinuation!" Their whispers were getting louder by degrees. "My household is run with the utmost in good taste, and I'll thank you not to suggest otherwise," Relena spat.

"I don't have to suggest anything! Give it time and it'll be all over London, in the papers, everywhere. Then everyone will know how you've been shamelessly carrying on in your dear father's abscence."

Heero bristled. That does it. Being in the middle of a ping-pong match between two wailing Harpies was bad enough without one of them hinting that he was having an illicit affair on the billiard table every night. He had his own dignity to think of! He twisted in his chair and opened his mouth to say something really cutting, but Relena leaned overtop of him before he got the chance. "I should smack you right in the mouth for that, you vicious old cow!"

Lady Une leaned closer still, until Heero couldn't see the racetrack anymore, just the sides of their faces poised an inch apart from one another. "I should watch what you say and do in public, if I were you. Bad impressions last a lifetime, you know, and the longer you can keep people from finding out that you have no class, the better off you'll be."

"I'm positively dripping class, I'll have you know, and when you see my name in the papers, it'll be to herald the triumphs of my superior summer luncheonettes with Parisian buffet, garden entertainment, and Ceylon tea served from my exclusive line of Wedgwood china with the hand-painted strawberry leaves." Relena sat swiftly back in her chair and folded her arms in a huff, considering the subject closed.

The brunette gave a tiny snort of disdain. "And who will be attending these luncheonettes, the footman and the hall porter? Or will the invitation be extended to my staff as well?"

Relena sat straight up and fixed a cold glare on her opponent. "I shall be entertaining none other than Count Treize Khushrenada of Schaffhausen at my estate, and since my social engagements will be limited to only the superlative element of the upper crust, I shan't worry about seeing you there."

As she turned back to the racetrack, determined to ignore her rival for the rest of the afternoon, Relena didn't see the strange look that crossed Lady Une's face. Heero caught it, and found it more than intriguing. He could read surprise, remembrance, and something else he couldn't identify wash over her features before she finally spoke. "Really..."

Heero studied her intensely, and she seemed too caught up in memories to notice. He was probably too far beneath her socially to be worth noticing except to shame Relena with, in her eyes. You know something, he thought, you know him, don't you? How well do you know him? How much does he trust you? You and I really ought to have a chat sometime, Lady Une.

Miraculously, there wasn't another incident between them for the rest of the afternoon. They went back to being well-behaved ladies and made no further attempts to take each other down a notch. The races provided a suitable distraction, during which their tempers cooled to a more civilized temperature. Heero felt sure, however, that the next time these two met, they'd most likely boil over.

**********

Duo wasn't one to have a defeatist attitude, but he was seriously considering it, with the mood he was in. He'd spent every free moment scouring the streets for his friend, the girl he playfully thought of as his little sister. They only crossed paths a few times in London over the years, but they had become fast friends, and Duo wanted very badly to know that she was warm and safe with a roof over her head.

It was dark out by the time he made it back to the manor, after cooking dinner and going straight out afterwards to resume his search. His aching feet could hardly stand the march up the three flights of rickety stairs to his room. Once there, he tossed his shoes in the corner and flopped on the double bed, exhausted.

Heero didn't acknowledge his entrance, being too engrossed in a large stack of letters he obtained from the study. He was sitting at the writing desk at the foot of his own bed, poring over page after page of graceful, energetic handwriting. To his left was a small stack of newspapers, a pair of scissors, and a pile of articles cut from the papers and set aside. To his right were a few pieces of embossed Bridlewood stationery, on which he jotted copious notes as he read the letters.

Duo was instantly bored and forgot all about being tired and sleepy. "Hey, Heero," he said expectantly, "are we gonna keep going, or are we done for the weekend?" The chef reached under his bed and pulled out one of the children's books Quatre had loacted for him. For the last several nights, Heero had seen the potential benefits of having an eager helper sharing his room, and was taking it upon himself to teach the boy how to read.

"No lesson tonight, I'm working." Heero didn't even turn around to look at him.

Duo pouted. "Not even a little bit? It won't take that long, just gimmie twenty minutes, okay?" No response. He jumped off the bed and hovered over the other boy like a wasp. "Ten minutes, even...c'mon, Heero, don't just sit there like you can't hear me, say something!"

Heero slapped the letters down and looked straight ahead at the wall, angry and irritated. "Duo, find something quiet to do, or go to sleep!"

Unseen by Heero, the chef stuck his tongue out and scrunched up his nose. "Fine, geez, don't bite my head off..." He sat down on his bed and debated going to sleep; he was tired but wired, and wanted to burn off his excess mental energy somehow. Looking around the room, he spotted a white rectangle under the smallish wooden table that separated his bed from Heero's. He picked it up and examined it; the object was an envelope with a letter inside.

Okay, here's something I can practice on, with or without your help, smarty. Duo studied the scratchings in black ink on the envelope. "Bree...Bri...Bridlee...oh, Bridlewood!" he exclaimed gleefully at recognizing part of his new home address.

Heero sighed deeply, hoping Duo would take the hint and shut up without being told, but the boy opened the letter and continued. "Okay, what have we got here...'As soon as pose...poseeb...possible! Need infor...uh...informay-something...resuh--no, resume...communi...cay-something..."

Heero looked up from his work. That didn't sound like a cookbook; what had Duo gotten his hands on?

"Lord...Jeff-something. Heero, who's Lord Jeff-something?"

Heero leapt out of his chair, lunged at Duo and tore the paper out of his hands. It was the letter he received the same morning, of that there was no doubt; he cursed himself for not remembering to burn it after returning from Ascot. Duo shrank away quickly and plastered himself against the wall, startled at the boy's reaction. Heero towered angrily over him and gestured wildly with his free hand; he came dangerously close to striking the boy.

"Don't ever read my mail again! Do you understand me!? Don't touch anything of mine!! Don't even set foot on this side of the room, got it!?" Heero waited until the petrified child managed a tiny nod, then went straight back to his work.

Duo curled up into a tight ball on his bed and stared at Heero for awhile, wondering when it would be safe to move. His gaze fell on the pretty ornamental birds on the bedside table, and he stared at them rather sadly for a few minutes. Heero was still writing with his back to him, but he didn't look relaxed or in a forgiving mood. Duo gave silent thanks that the dresser was on his side of the room, quietly fetched his pajamas out of it, and slunk out.

Once Heero heard the click of the bathroom door, he set his pen down and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't meant to snap at Duo, it just happened...it was his own fault for not burning the letter, anyway. Later, he might try and apologize, after his study into the affairs of Count Khushrenada was completed.

The letters revealed much that Lord Peacecraft probably never told his young daughter. Politically speaking, the Count had his fingers in many pies, and between the letters and the international newspapers, Heero was beginning to construct a frighteningly powerful picture of a man without scruples or limits. There was no safe option except to prepare for the worst.

Taking advantage of being alone in the room, he reached under his bunk and pulled out his black suitcase, still bearing the scratches from Otto's attempts to gain entry. He opened it as quietly as he could and took out the revolver he'd been guarding so carefully since his arrival. A quick check of the barrel confirmed it was fully loaded, but it was during this examination that the bathroom door opened too quietly for him to hear.

A tiny gasp sounded in the hall, and Heero acted on his reflexes, whirling around in his chair and pointing the gun at a pair of terrified violet eyes. The black-clad chef dropped the bundle of clothes he was carrying and bolted down the darkened hall.

Damn! Heero stashed the gun in a desk drawer and took off after him. Duo was still fast on his feet, but there were no other lights on in the attic, and Heero had the floor plan committed to memory. The frightened boy mistakenly ran into a cluttered storage room instead of heading for the stairwell and quickly found himself trapped.

Heero stopped just inside the room; it was pitch black inside, and he hadn't thought to bring any matches. There weren't any electric lights on the fourth floor either. Finding a thief dressed all in black was going to be interesting. He shut the door behind him and listened for movement. "Duo?"

His quarry was crouched behind some boxes and trunks in the corner farthest from both the door and the window. He could hear the butler's carefully measured footsteps growing closer and closer.

"Duo...I'm not going to hurt you...come back to our room so we can talk about this."

Duo had all but made up his mind that he wasn't going anywhere with Heero, ever. He fought to keep his breathing slow and steady as he helplessly listened to the other voice growing nearer and more insistent.

"Just come back with me. Everything's going to be fine." Heero's words were soothing, but his tone of voice was not. He didn't have time for this. He was angry, at Duo for meddling, at himself for being so careless, at the Count for making weapons of any kind a necessity for him. "I'm not leaving this room without you."

Instinct drew Heero to the corner in which Duo was hiding, a clump of boxes almost head-high obscuring the boys from each other's sight. Somehow he felt Duo's presence right in front of him, but trying to get at him from either side of the barricade would be useless. He would be out the other side, out the door, and quite probably out of the house before Heero could blink.

He gingerly picked up a small can of wood stain and aimed for a spot along the wall to the left of the boxes. Holding his breath, he threw the can at the wall where it collided with a sharp clunk. Duo sprang out from the right-hand side of the boxes and ran straight into Heero, easily victimized by the simple ruse. Before the braided boy could cry out and alarm the household, Heero backed him up against the wall and pinned him in place with his own body. He clutched both of his tiny wrists in one hand and suspended them securely against the wall over his head, while the other hand clapped quickly over Duo's mouth, silencing him.

Duo's eyes were wide with fright, and his breathing quickened involuntarily. He tried to pull his arms down and kick Heero's legs out from under him, but nothing worked. Maybe Quatre had a point about this guy after all, he thought.

Heero leaned in close so he could whisper in Duo's ear. "Listen to me. I said I wouldn't hurt you, but if you struggle, you'll end up hurting yourself." Duo squirmed a bit, but they both knew it was useless; he was still weak and malnourished from a lifetime on the streets. Finally, he stood still. "I'll let you talk if you promise not to scream. Do you promise?"

Duo forced himself to calm down and stop hyperventilating, and as a reward, the hand slowly came off his mouth. Heero pulled away until they were a foot apart, but he kept a strong hold on Duo's wrists, one in each of his hands, held between them. Once again, Heero found himself staring into those purple gems, their owner completely helpless in his grip. He actually forgot what he was in the room for until Duo broke the silence with a frantic whisper.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't read your mail anymore, I won't snore anymore, I won't talk, I won't move, I'll just sit there until I'm supposed to be doing something different!" He definitely sounded as if he feared for his life.

Heero had only one shot to repair the damage, and it had to count. "I didn't mean to point the gun at you...you just startled me, that's all."

"I startled YOU!?" Duo shrieked. He winced at how unexpectedly loud that was and seemed to shrink further into the wall, taking Heero's glare with him. He lowered his voice back down to a whisper. "I think I have a perfect right to be scared out of my wits, thank you very much!"

"I know," Heero sighed, "but you don't have to be afraid of me." He paused, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for being a heavily-armed butler in a house full of pampered weaklings. "I have another job, on the side...sometimes it means getting into trouble...falling into danger. I'm just trying to protect myself on the job, that's all. I have no intention of shooting you over how loudly you snore."

The last bit brought a grin to Duo's face. "You'd better not, 'cause if you heard yourself snore, you wouldn't have a leg to stand on."

Heero didn't argue with him, he simply held the boy's wrists up between them and let go of them slowly and carefully, demonstrating his lack of true malice. Duo let his arms fall back down at his sides, and they stood there, staring at each other for a few tense moments. "So," Heero ventured, "are we alright now?"

Duo thought it over. "Yeah, s'pose so...only warn me from now on if you're gonna store firearms in the same room as me!"

Heero nodded. "Fair enough. Shall we go?"

Duo grinned widely and started back through the maze of boxes towards the door; all was apparently forgiven. They left the storage room and walked back down the hall, only to be stopped midway by Elsie, poking her bonnet-covered head out of the housemaids' bedroom and giving them a furious look. "What's all that noise? Some of us have gotta get some sleep, y'know!"

"Aw, it was nothing," Duo said with a smirk, "Heero caught a mouse, that's all."

"A mouse?" Elsie asked in disbelief. "On the fourth floor? You must be joking!"

"Nope, it was there alright. A very naughty mouse who's learned his lesson." Duo yawned comically. "And now the mouse is going to bed. G'night!"

Heero pretended to shrug innocently at Elsie and followed Duo back to their room. He could hear the bewildered woman conversing with the other maids as their voices faded in the distance. "Did he say a mouse?"

"Don't pay no attention to 'im, luv...the boy's crackers!" Two doors shut firmly for the night, and not a sound was heard from within.


~~~~~~~~~~

Next, in Episode Seven: Treize arrives with a guest on his arm; they seem quite harmless to most of the staff, but Heero knows better. How long can secrets be kept in a growing household, and whose will be discovered first? The month of July will be interesting indeed...

*kusukusu* How kawaii was that? =^-^= And get a load of Hee-chan now! *gasp* He knows how to get what he wants from women all of a sudden! Let's hope he uses his powers for good instead of evil! *Duo runs in, puts Relena in a box, puts the box in the corner, and sits on it smugly* Okay dear, I'll get to you in a minute. Now, there are NO NOTES YET on my webpage because Dreamwater is being a pain and I can't get into my File Manager. But there will be a short note later on, whenever I can get through. Next Episode will be the last one for June, on the 29th. =^_~= See you then!