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Okay, time to get physical. A warning for very mild language, but also a warning for (yep, it's time we all came to accept it, say it out loud with me now...) mild shounen-ai content. *some readers throw confetti, others stare blankly* ehehehe...
Disclaimer: It seems that children everywhere are conning their parents into thinking that a laptop and a cell phone are now required elements of back-to-school shopping. I tried to convince my mother that a matching set of five Gundam pilots were necessary items for back-to-FFN-shopping, but she didn't fall for it. =¬_¬= Darnit, ma...
Suggested Font: Times New Roman~~~~~~~~~~
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Episode Twenty-Two: Critical Error "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone..." ~Joni MitchellOctober 17th, 1901 Recovering from the shock of becoming a murderer took many days, and even with his bubbly braided bunkmate doing everything he could to cheer him up, Heero didn't fully feel like himself quite yet. He put up a believable front for the rest of the house that nothing was wrong, but in front of Duo, the person he least wanted to upset, he was morose and self-depreciating to an unhealthy degree. Taking the life of a contract killer was unfortunate, and he regretted it, but what bothered him the most was the terrible fact that he was feeling anything at all. He had gone through years of psychological reconditioning to stamp out all feelings of guilt and remorse, but ever since he left Lord Jeffrhyss to join the real world, something had been chipping away at those emotional walls his Lordship had toiled so long to construct. Something, or worse, someone, was trying to unearth the human being that lay beneath the mask called special agent Heero Yuy. As it happened, the boy couldn't mope around the kitchen for very long before Duo sat him down and gave him a long lecture about justice, conscience, and the allowances made by the legal system for acting in self-defense. After ranting on for about ten minutes that if Heero didn't snap out of it and get back to work he'd be going to Catherine's pub for all his meals, the butler seemed to get the message. With the threat of losing Duo's fine cooking hanging over his head, Heero was soon back at the task of investigating Count Khushrenada. After several days' worth of aggressive, and very successful, questioning of a long list of financial contacts, Duo and Heero felt they had more than made up for the time they spent basking on the beach and lounging on deck chairs in the previous weeks. They returned from the fourth consecutive morning in town refreshed, focused, and laden down with a basketful of information to analyze. "Y'know, we're really good at this poking and prying racket," Duo said as they marched downstairs to the kitchen. "If we struck out on our own, I bet we could make ourselves rich by opening a private detective agency!" "I'm not wearing that silly Sherlock Holmes hat," Heero stated. They hung up their overcoats and sat at the kitchen table with a bundle of papers, near the woodstove to keep warm. "Alright, you don't have to wear the hat, but you could at least try the coat with the cape. You'd look good in a cape!" Duo straddled a chair backwards, scooted it close to Heero's, and dove back into the little brown paper bag he carried. As a reward for being such a good helper during the investigation, Heero had bought him a bag of his favourite chocolate-covered raspberry jellies, which he was devouring at a slow, steady pace in order to savour each bite to the fullest. "We might not do so well on our own without Lord Jeffrhyss' money to throw around," Heero pointed out. He tapped the small stack of papers for emphasis. "People generally aren't willing to give up information like this without some sort of risk compensation." Duo thought about that, nodded, and popped another raspberry jelly. "I'd be the same way," he mumbled, chewing steadily. Hearing Helen's voice inside his head telling him not to spoil his lunch, Duo put the rest of the jellies away in a jar on the kitchen table; out of sight, out of mind. "So, what have we got so far?" Heero began shuffling the papers around into the order in which they were obtained. "We know that Treize has a small empire in eastern Europe, comprised of four castles, nine places of business, and at least a dozen slush fund accounts in various banks across the continent." He pulled out his notebook and flipped it open to a recently-filled page. "We also know that he was placed under tight restrictions by the local Ministry of Finance against transferring any of his assets to banks within the British Empire. Some of what was said in the letters between himself and Lord Peacecraft point to allegations of money laundering, though no formal charges have ever been filed." Duo's eyes glimmered with understanding. "So that's why he keeps hiring foreigners to do his dirty work...if he hired Brits who didn't have bank accounts anywhere else, he couldn't pay them." "Precisely." Heero spread out all the paperwork and shook his head at it. "There's no indication that he has any money or property in Britain whatsoever. If he has a job to be done, he calls Henry Wagner, for example, and when the work is completed, Wagner's fee mysteriously appears on the books in a German bank." Duo whistled in admiration, leaning forward over the back of the chair. "I can't believe a guy that rich would come here and mooch off his niece like that. He really doesn't have a penny in England?" Heero leaned back and folded his arms, taking long, sweeping glances around the kitchen. "That depends..." He locked eyes with his assistant. "How much do you think this house is worth?" The chef went dead quiet, eyes bulging. Many seconds later, he remembered to breathe. "No way..." "In all the years the Peacecraft family has owned this estate, Treize has never visited," Heero said in a hushed but pointed voice. "Why should he come now, except that there's no one here with the legal or financial clout to stop him from assuming control of the manor? Lord Peacecraft is dead and buried, his will hasn't even been read yet, his son is at war in Africa, and the only true member of the family left doesn't even have the good sense to take an umbrella outside when it's raining!" Duo couldn't stop himself from laughing at that; Relena was still young, but seemed incurably flighty at times, and was often good for a furtive chuckle. Duo sighed, scooted his chair even closer, and leaned his head down on Heero's near shoulder. "It's amazing, how you lower yourself to living here amongst us mental peasants." With an involuntary grin, Heero took a chocolate-covered jelly out of the jar and pressed it against Duo's lips. "Shut up and eat your candy." Keeping his hands on the back of the chair, Duo eagerly nipped the candy out of Heero's fingers and chewed away happily. So far, they'd had a pretty good day, which was getting to be a rarity; the air of contentedness around them seemed impermeable. Across the kitchen, a silent intruder cleared her throat. Duo stopped chewing and both boys looked up from each other at the woman who had shattered their peace. "Blimey, you two look.....comfy...." Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Elsie, carrying a basket of laundry and looking very oddly at the scene. Duo snapped his head up and slid his chair away to a more respectable distance, wondering how much she had seen. Heero simply glared, wondering why he didn't see her sooner. "Is there somethng you need?" the butler asked coolly. "No, sir," Elsie squawked back. "Just takin' this through to the laundry room. Pardon me fer int'ruptin'..." Giving them another odd glance, she shuffled off down the hall and vanished. As soon as she was gone, Duo rose from his chair and went straight to work preparing lunch, obviously avoiding any eye contact with Heero. When he finally did summon up the courage to look over his shoulder at him, Heero was staring at the scattered papers blanketing the kitchen table. Duo looked back down at his work, feeling a faint, tingly heat creeping up both sides of his face. He had discovered from many months of observation that Heero generally didn't like to be touched, and Duo had caught himself crossing that line more and more frequently in recent weeks. Still, he doesn't seem to mind it, unless he's humouring me, the chef thought guiltily, but I should just keep off him when there are other people wandering around that might see us. Come to that, I should probably just keep off him altogether. Duo's entire form slumped sadly against the countertop as he sliced a tomato. "We really ought to find someplace more private to do this sort of thing," Heero said quietly. Duo whirled around, all foolish hopes instantly renewed. "Really!?" "Of course," Heero affirmed. "If Elsie had come closer and seen any of these documents, she would have become a serious security threat. We should confine our meetings to less frequently-travelled parts of the house." The slump returned. "Oh. Right." Duo slowly turned back to the tomatoes, cursing his idiotic cravings under his breath. "Well, anyplace but our room, okay? I mean, you know I love having the kittens there, but truth be told, it's starting to smell a little funny." "Agreed." Without any further stray bits of conversation, Heero mechanically scooped up the papers and left the kitchen, leaving Duo to wonder if he really had offended his friend's solitary nature. Maybe I shouldn't go through with what I've got planned for him tonight, Duo thought, maybe I should just leave him alone for awhile. To counter Heero's mild depression, Duo had arranged an easy challenge for him to conquer, a little something to boost his confidence; however, whatever strangeness had occurred between them just now didn't alter how badly that was confidence was needed. Nah, we'll go ahead with it. He'll feel a lot better afterwards. **********A little grey cloud of depression seemed to be following Dorothy all around the house lately. Everywhere she went, she got dirty looks and nasty glares from certain members of the staff, but complaining to Relena might have led to the discovery of why they were so angry with her, which was unacceptable. One might have said that she had fewer friends than before, but the servants were never her friends to begin with. She spent the bulk of her time with Relena now; even Treize had become undesirable company after turning quite sullen one morning for no apparent reason. The pair was getting restless because of the week-long drizzle, so Relena's patience was sorely tested from listening to Dorothy's upper-class whining. "Anna-Maria is never going to live this down, never," she moaned from one of the plush armchairs on either side of the parlour fireplace. "Her disgrace will haunt her forever..." As her modest eulogy for her precious baby's honour trailed off, she stared blankly into the smoldering embers, lamenting with her whole presence. Relena supressed a sigh. "I somehow doubt that she places the same importance on her...honour as you do," she remarked quietly from the opposite armchair. "If you really want to know whose cat it was, though, I know something you haven't tried." Dorothy looked up; the other owner's identity was very appealing to her, as she had a few choice words saved up for the irresponsible lout. "Oh? And what's that?" "Father always taught me," Relena began, sitting up straight and prim in her chair, "that if there was ever a problem too great for me, I should ask for guidance from above." When Dorothy looked puzzled, Relena demonstrated by clasping her hands together piously and bowing her head by a barely perceptible degree. "Say it like this. 'Heavenly Father'..." "Oh for goodness' sake," Dorothy scoffed. She could think of nothing more useless than mimicking Relena's cloying, oversentimental mannerisms, but the other girl wasn't budging, and diplomatic politeness demanded that Dorothy humour her a little. She clasped her hands and bowed her head with a tiny sigh. "Heavenly Father..." "...'please help me find the father of Anna-Maria's kittens'..." Dorothy rolled her eyes slightly. "Please help me find the father of Anna-Maria's kittens..." "...'so that I can welcome him into our loving family'," Relena concluded with a firm little nod. Dorothy unclasped her hands, gripped the armrests and gave her friend a dour look. "I wouldn't press my luck if I were him," she said coldly. Relena dropped her hands and clucked her tongue. "You really are incorrigible sometimes. Whether you believe or not, it can't hurt to try, can it? And you mustn't judge the other owner too harshly, either. After all, you let your cat run around loose outside, same as they did." Dorothy grunted as daintily as she could. By doing some simple math, she had calculated that Anna-Maria might have met with her disgrace the same afternoon that she walked away from the animal to covertly learn of the Winner Family Tontine, so the blame was partly hers. Still, she had her pride. "That is immaterial," she declared, "and I hope for their sake that we never meet, because it's unfortunate but likely that I'll lose my temper with them, and I'd hate to have to disrupt the serenity of your home in such a common fashion." No sooner had the acid words tumbled from her lips than the doorbell rang, pealing out its announcement of an unexpected visitor. Relena twitched gleefully at the sound and turned swiftly to Dorothy with wide eyes and a broad smile, as if the event could herald to answer to a prayer. Dorothy, dismissing it as a coincidence, groaned and looked away. A moment or two later, the parlour doors opened. Heero stood in the doorway, latched his hands behind his back, and announced the identity of the guest for her Ladyship's approval. "Pierre LaRoche, Viscount of Montpellier," he said regally. Relena looked at Dorothy, and vice versa. "I've never heard of him, have you?" her Ladyship whispered. Dorothy shook her head. "There's dozens of viscounts in France...but what would he be doing here?" "I don't know, but he sounds important!" Relena chirped with joyous anticipation. "Show him in, please, Heero!" The butler disappeared, leaving the double doors open, and in his place soon materialized 'le Vicomte de Montpellier', a fiftyish man with a tall, slender build, broad shoulders, and a shock of almost-white hair that was extraordinarily stylish in its natural wave without being any specific style at all. He carried himself with an air of quiet dignity and was undeniably handsome. In his arms was a beautiful longhaired cat. "Madamoiselle Peacecraft?" the Viscount asked, looking from one blonde girl to the other. His voice was rich and smoky, and displayed a commanding aptitude for English, but with a divine French accent that gave them both shivers. "Monsieur LaRoche," Relena greeted in her Lady of Bridlewood voice. "I am Lady Peacecraft, and this is my companion, Baroness Catalonia." She indicated Dorothy with a small, delicate wave. The Viscount smiled broadly, revealing perfect white teeth that had no doubt been used to charm countless lonely ladies in years gone by. "Ahhh, enchanté, madamoiselle," he said smoothly, stepping forward. Balancing the cat in his left arm, he extended his right to take hold of Relena's hand and bent down to kiss it. Relena blushed mightily at the gesture but was far from displeased, and fought to contain a girlish giggle. "...et Madamoiselle Catalonia..." Being the gentleman that he was, he stepped to the side and offered Dorothy the same treatment, which she graciously and enthusiastically accepted. As the Viscount leaned forward to kiss her hand, however, her eyes were riveted to the cat he carried, a magnificent animal with a thick, glossy, tortoiseshell coat of many different colours, and intelligent green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. "What can we do for you, Monsieur?" Relena asked, breaking the spell. The Viscount stood up straight and patted the head of his furry companion as he spoke. "You must pardon me for being so forward, but one of your neighbours is a close, how you say...acquaintance of mine, and I was visiting towards the end of July with my petit Jacques." He scratched the cat under its chin, and it purred in loving acknowledgement of its name. "Jacques escaped my attention for a little while one day, and since then, the servants of the house of my friend have heard from the servants of your house that there was something of a happy event here, non?" "Oh, yes!" Relena gasped, "but the mother cat belongs to--" "I'm proud to say that my Anna-Maria may be the mother of your Jacques' kittens," Dorothy said sweetly, rising from her chair. "And may I also say what a joy is it having them here! They're bright, affectionate, and seem in every way to be perfect examples of the grace, charm, and quality that one would expect coming from such a fine gene pool as his!" At that point, Heero stopped listening just outside the door and left before he was sick to his stomach. Relena had a curious look on her face as well, knowing that Dorothy hardly bothered with the kittens at all, and even called them 'the little abominations.' "May I fetch Jacques a chair, Monsieur LaRoche?" Dorothy asked in a sugary tone. The Viscount was overwhelmed by the good manners his young hostesses displayed. "Merci, Madamoiselle! But of course, you are too kind!" Dorothy dashed to the other side of the room where a small grove of red velvet chairs were lined up in front of the window. Relena excused herself from the gentleman's presence and followed her. "What's gotten into you?" she whispered. "For two whole weeks or more, all you've been able to talk about is getting your hands on the father of those kittens so you could, and I quote, 'make a hearth rug out of the little carpet shredder'." "Things have changed," Dorothy whispered back. She grabbed a chair and jerked her head lightly in the direction of their guests. "That is a pedigree carpet shredder! I know quality when I see it! And the beloved pet of a French nobleman, no less!" Hefting up the ornately gilded chair, Dorothy carried it effortlessly back to where the Viscount was standing, while Relena brought a chair for the Viscount himself. "There you are," Dorothy said, setting the chair down, "now why don't you tell me all about your petit Jacques?" The Viscount let Jacques make himself comfortable before sitting down, then began recounting the cat's history; both girls marvelled at the magical absence of any cat hairs on his fine herringbone suit. "My Jacques is a purebred Turkish Angora, winner of the Paris Championship five years running, Best of Breed and Best of Show in 1898, plus a whole cabinet full of blue ribbons and silver cups for..." As the man rattled off an impressive list of awards and distinctions, Dorothy began seeing gold coins dancing in front of her eyes as she imagined the ad she would soon place in the Times: 'Kittens for sale. Sired by Jacques de Montpellier, purebred Turkish Angora, five times Parisian Grand Champion. Raised amongst nobility and on special offer at Bridlewood Manor, Regent's Park. Inquire for pricing.' Turkish Angoras were highly sought after and often sold for hundreds, if not thousands of pounds, and though the kittens would not themselves be purebreds, they now had a very enviable pedigree, and would surely fetch an attractive price. What began as a disgraceful event was turning into a nice little windfall. I always knew Anna-Maria had impeccable taste...just like me. "...and although I have not considered breeding for some time, this is not entirely unexpected," the Viscount finished with a chuckle. "There is love and romance even in the animal kingdom, oui?" "Oh, but yes!" Dorothy agreed, whether she was listening or not. Now then, all my plans hinge on getting the appropriate papers from this man in order to prove the kittens' bloodline, but he's not legally obligated to provide them. I'll have to play this very carefully... "Would you like to see your new family, Monsieur LaRoche?" she asked. "Merci, Madamoiselle, I would like that very much!" he said with a wide smile. Responding to an urgent glance from Dorothy, Relena went to the bellpull on the wall and gave it a sharp yank. "My butler will take you up to see them, Monsieur. For some off reason, Anna-Maria chose the servants' quarters to be bedded down in." "Which isn't to say that she prefers the company of the lower classes," Dorothy added quickly, blushing snobbishly. The Viscount seemed perfectly at ease with Anna-Maria's choice, however, and the trio chatted amiably about it until Heero arrived at the door for his instructions. Fully expecting Relena to be the one who wanted something, he was that surprised them Dorothy latched onto the arm of the tall Frenchman and steered him towards the door. "Would you take us upstairs to see the kittens, please?" the Baroness cooed.Heero paled. After hiding a weeks' worth of espionage on Treize plus a loaded revolver in that room, visitors were the last thing he needed. Nevertheless, it would be much more suspicious if he refused them entrance. "Of course. This way, sir, m'lady." Relena stayed in the parlour to look after Jacques, being careful not to handle him too much, lest Frederick become miffed at smelling cat all over her. Heero dutifully took his charges upstairs and showed them as far as the landing just outside his room, where he asked them to wait a moment while he 'tidied up'. Once safely away from their curious eyes, he opened the desk drawer and took out the one and only item in the room that couldn't be explained innocently, namely his gun. He quickly tucked it into the waistband of his trousers, at the back so that the handle was obscured by his jacket. One quick tug of the covers on the double bed to make it presentable, and he headed back out to tell the guests that they were most welcome to enter. None of them noticed that two feet went into the bedroom, but six came out. The aristocrats went straight in to see the mother and her brood, while Heero hid himself in a darkened room across the hall, closing the door just far enough that he could still see the goings on. If either one of them began poking around in the other desk drawers, he would put a stop to it, swiftly and politely. Hopefully without any bloodshed. The voices of Dorothy and the Viscount drifted easily across the hall. "Ils sont merveilleux, Madamoiselle! Very nice!" "Of course, it would be my honour to offer you the pick of the litter!" "Eh bien, you are most kind! And in return I shall have papers drawn up of their pedigree. I believe I can trust you to find suitable homes for the rest." "Thank you, Monsieur! You are indeed a gentleman!" "What's the last number in the combination to your wall safe?" Heero blinked. That last voice wasn't right. It was neither Dorothy nor the Viscount, and was much barely above a whisper. Plus, it came from behind him. Heero ran through a mental catalog of voices lined up in order of increasing snideness and came up with a likely suspect. "Go away, Chang." "You might as well tell me, Yuy, I'm three-fourths there anyway." Sure enough, Wufei was right behind him, lurking in the shadows, and had apparently been working on opening Heero's semi-secret homemade wall safe for some time. "And what's so interesting out there, hm?" "Shhh." Heero really didn't have time for this; concentrating on what Dorothy might be snooping through while the Viscount was occupied with the kittens took up the bulk of his brainpower, leaving little energy to deal with meddlesome rival agents. He felt Wufei creep up close behind him, trying to see through the crack between the door and its frame, as the voices from the bedroom continued. "They all appear to be in excellent health. You should be most proud." "It was nothing, really, I'm just a natural when it comes to animals!" Wufei raised an eyebrow, made invisible by the darkness. "You're spying on that? You must be really bored." Heero tensed his jaw to keep from tensing his fists. "Shut.....up." He could hear Wufei making caustic comments under his breath behind him, and barely detect the rather banal conversation thirty or so feet in front of him...and then there was a strange sound that came from the floor, a tiny little 'mew'. Both lads froze. "What was that?" Wufei asked without thinking. The 'mew' sounded again, and Heero cringed. "One of the kittens must have wandered in here..." "Then open the door and let some light in so you can find it," Wufei said in a high-and-mighty fashion, making a grab for the door handle. Heero slapped his hand away. "That would defeat the purpose of hiding, would it not?" Wufei sighed and turned away. "Fine. Then I'll put the blinds back up." "Don't you move!" Heero hissed. "You might step on it!" A third little 'mew' was heard, and he had no choice but to crouch down and feel around on the floor for anything warm and furry with a swishy tail, which would rule out the giant mutant spiders that Bethany occasionally screamed over. His hand brushed against something about the right size, shape, and texture, and in a quick, smooth motion he scooped up a kitten. Just to complicate matters, Wufei had leaned far over Heero's crouching form to peer out through the crack in the door and was in the perfect position to get slammed into by Heero on his way up from the floor. They crashed in mid-air with much silent cursing and jarring of teeth, and quickly had an angry hold of each other by the collars of their shirts, growling. "Thank you once again, Madamoiselle. This one will do nicely, and I will have the papers ready for you as soon as they are ready to leave their mother." "I can't thank you enough, Monsieur LaRoche. I'll make sure your kitten gets the very best care..." The two aristocratic voices faded along with their footsteps travelling down the stairs. Heero and Wufei slowly let go of each other's shirt collars and the door was swung open, letting daylight into the room once again; the ball of fluff in Heero's right hand squirmed at the sudden brightness. Glaring one last time at Wufei, he marched back into his room and shut the door. He looked down at the kitten he carried, almost forgotten; it was charcoal grey, like the one he had seen Duo playing with every now and then. It was then that he realized how little attention he paid the animals, otherwise he would have seen sooner that the kitten he held was the only one of that colour, and never had a chance to be evaluated for adoption by the Viscount. Courtesy suggested that it would be right for him to inform the gentleman of the oversight, in case he wanted to reconsider his choice. Duo likes this one, though...he'd be upset if I just handed it to the man. The kitten looked up at him with bright turquoise eyes, but offered no opinion. After a few moments' deliberation, Heero put the charcoal grey one down with its siblings in the hopes that Dorothy wouldn't notice the mistake. He put his gun back in the desk drawer, exited the room, and locked the door with a little silver key he kept on the same chain as his pocketwatch. Wufei was still there, waiting patiently, and frowned as he saw the door secured right in front of him. "You really think I'd break into your room? What kind of sneak do you think I am?" The Chinese agent folded his arms and smirked. "And are you going to give me that last number to the safe or what? Only, the lock mechanism is giving me some trouble and I can't quite pin it down." Heero remained silent and clomped down the stairs, ignoring his pesky rival. "Fine, fine, I'll figure it out myself eventually," Wufei called down to him in a mocking voice before going back to the darkened storage room. Some people are just chronically unhelpful. **********Treize stood at his study window and glared viciously at the pouring rain with his arms folded in a tight knot. His mood over the last week was less than pleasant, and it hadn't improved with age. "Twelve years, Otto. That's how long it's taken me to build up my influence in the world...twelve years. And now this boy wants it all to come crashing down in a heartbeat." Otto looked down at his feet. He would readily admit that he despised Heero with a passion, but he still wasn't comfortable with Treize's attempt to have him killed. Unfortunately, he had gotten himself in too deep to pull out now, and was quickly being reduced to another one of the Count's strategic appendages. "Yes, Lord Treize." "He can't be killed, that's all there is to it. We've tried and failed miserably, and without risking any more valuble resources, there is only one conclusion to be reached. The boy cannot be destroyed." Treize unfolded his arms and laced his fingers together behind his back. "At least, not physically." Otto looked up curiously. "I beg your pardon?" "It's time to change tactics, Otto. Threats don't work. Brute force doesn't work. Surgically precise assssination doesn't work. What's left?" He looked over his shoulder at his tall, stout toadie and waited vainly for a response. "Psychological warfare." The Count started walking around the study with long, slow strides. "I've struggled too long to find Mr. Yuy's physical weakness, and it may be that he simply doesn't have one. But everyone has a mental weakness, some secret code by which you can slip inside their mind and tear apart the sinuous walls that guard them from their own instability. Once you have the key, any man is yours to control." "This is a bit out of my expertise, Lord Treize," Otto insisted nervously, "perhaps a behavioural psychologist would be more helpful..." "Nonsense, Otto, I already have several potential keys in mind, the most important of which is in this very house." He stopped in front of the bear-like man and looked him in the eye. "Go and fetch Doris. Tell her I want to speak with her urgently." "Yes, Lord Treize." Otto fled the study, looking very relieved to escape. Treize sat back down in his plush chair and checked his watch. The young man in question would be bringing up his tea at any moment; it would be the first time since the murder at the docks that they would be alone together unsupervized, which Treize had deliberately avoided while his temper was still burning just beneath the surface. Like clockwork, there was a knock at the door at precisely five minutes past four, and Treize granted the visitor entrance. In walked Heero, carrying the usual tray of tea, scones, and hot vegatable soup for a cold, rainy day. He wordlessly crossed the distance to Treize's cozy niche and set the tray down on the table, then straightened up slowly, as if waiting for the Count's words of wisdom. Treize looked disdainfully up at the boy. "Proud of yourself, I suppose?" Heero shrugged to a tiny degree. "As much as one can be, carrying a tray the weight of a small dog. If you asked me to carry six bags of cement, that would be something to be proud of." Sarcasm felt good, just like Duo said. It allowed you to vent your frustrations on your enemies rather than yourself, without leaving marks that the authorities could use as evidence against you. Treize looked straight ahead as Heero poured the tea. "Amusing," he said without humour. "Do I take that to mean there are no hard feelings remaining from last week?" Heero set the teapot down and looked mildly shocked. "Why, Your Lordship...you sound as if you expect some sort of retribution for trying to have me killed." As Treize moved one arm towards the tray, the butler held up a hand to stop him. "One moment..." To the Count's bewilderment, Heero lifted the newly-filled teacup to his lips and sampled it, then set it down and helped himself to a spoonful of soup. He then put the spoon down and very calmly stood with his hands casually behind his back and his eyebrows floating in a lighthearted manner. "Cyanide takes effect in five minutes, high doses of strychnine within fifteen to thirty minutes. Would you like me to grovel off to a dark corner to die now, or stay here for the full half-hour?" The Count scowled at the boy's presumptuous attempt to appoint himself the royal food tester. "You may go." The butler nodded genially and walked away. Treize waited until the lad had turned around to pull the study door closed and made one last cutting remark while he buttered one of the fresh scones. "You forgot deadly nightshade." "Nightshade could take hours, and by then the soup would be cold," Heero replied without missing a beat. "Enjoy." Favouring his nemesis with a tricky little smile, he shut the door behind him, leaving Treize to curse him a thousand times or more for capturing the last word. Once outside the study, the smile grew as he revelled quietly in his modest victory, but soon it was back to the grindstone, and he headed down to the kitchen to await his next task. **********Hard at work on that evening's dinner, Duo couldn't stop himself from looking outside from time to time at the two birds of a very strange feather out on the back lawn. Undaunted by the constant rain, Trowa and Quatre were outside in their raincoats and gardening boots, hacking away at each other with the fencing foils. It had to be admitted that their technique was improving, but Duo kept his fingers crossed that they wouldn't catch cold. Heero walked in from the west stairs looking at a letter that had apparently been delivered late by the sometimes-reliable postman. As soon as Duo spotted him, he called out in an excited voice. "Hey, come look at these two! They're still at it! Man, it's a wonder they don't lose their grip on those things in this rain, one of 'em could go flying out of someone's hand a fly right through...hey, are you listening to me?" "Hm?" Heero looked up from his letter at last, then saw who was talking to him and put it in his inside coat pocket before he could ask about it. The letter was a summons from Lord Jeffrhyss, something he had been expecting, and though he knew the subject was far from pleasant, he got a strangely comforting feeling from knowing what was to become of him in a very short time. Still, he didn't want to worry Duo with it. "I'm sure they know what they're doing," he offered plainly. "Yeah, well...I have to admire them for not letting a little wind and rain stand in the way of something they really want to do," the chef said, still looking out the window. "Mm-hm." Heero seemed lost in thought over something. Duo picked up a bag of flour and started walking very quickly towards the pantry. "By the way, you and me are going out in the wind and rain tonight!" he said in a tiny voice. "Come back here," Heero said sternly. At least one tiny part of his brain was always paying attention. Looking quite sheepish, Duo returned and dropped the flour sack on the kitchen table. "Um...I didn't think you'd mind a little...excursion tonight? After all, it's your night off, right? Nothing fancy, dress casual." Not looking nearly as exasperated as he probably should have, Heero nodded in agreement, and Duo grinned. They both busied themselves with routine activities, and hardly noticed when Doris came down the stairs, looking about and fidgeting nervously. She saw the two boys sitting together, but appeared unwilling to disturb them for some reason. She began wandering around the kitchen area and caught Heero's suspicious eye, but avoided his gaze like it was a death ray from another planet. To her relief, she found what she was looking for, emerging from the hallway to the scullery. "Elsie!" the old woman cried. She quickly lowered her voice, but it didn't escape Heero's ears. "The Count wants to see you right away!" "What about?" Elsie griped in an annoyed voice. Doris paused. "It's about...um..." She started to half-turn towards the pair sitting at the kitchen table, but stopped when she saw Heero's eyes riveted to hers. "Just go up right away." With that, she flew up the stairs in a flurry of black and white cotton. A moment later, Elsie looked befuddled to no one in particular, and followed her up. Heero stared at the space where the women had stood and had a bad feeling about them that he couldn't explain. He looked over at Duo; the chef was totally engrossed in his cookery and hadn't noticed a thing. There was little to be done about it, especially tonight, but Heero thought to himself that anything even remotely suspicious that happened in that house should be investigated in the fullness of time. **********A long carriage ride through the rain took the young adventurers to the unpopulated outskirts of London, particularly, a spot where the gravel road converged with what Duo described as a disused railroad track. Though it was well after dark, it was a blessing that the night was unseasonably warm, for they exited the carriage and hiked along the railroad track a solid twenty minutes in the drizzling rain. Eventually, after a few twists and turns, they found the landscape dropping off sharply into a ravine, with trees and tall weeds on either side of the train track, which continued across the gorge in the form of a bridge. By the time they reached the bridge, the rain had stopped, not that it mattered any, because they were already soaked tothe skin. Heero had learned never to wear his best suit when Duo had an excursion planned. "After you," Duo said, indicating that Heero should walk out onto the bridge. The butler hesitated. "Is that all? Walk across the bridge?" "No, I want you to stop halfway. I'll be right behind you, but it's only wide enough for one person at a time." In the dim moonlight, Heero displayed one of his classic disapproving looks conveying that this was not a clever idea. Besides being long and narrow, the bridge had a very limited number of exits, and it looked like a long way down to whatever laid beneath it. "What if a train comes along?" "Are you kidding me? Have you no faith in me whatsoever?" Duo scolded good-naturedly. "Listen, I know this track and this bridge. They don't use it anymore! I came here all the time when I was younger, and I've never seen a train here once. Go on!" He gave Heero a gleaming smile and a slight prod in the shoulder, certain that there was no danger. Fighting all his instincts at once, Heero slowly took his eyes off Duo and walked carefully out onto the bridge, safely between the iron rails on which the rattling cargo trains once travelled. Duo followed about four feet behind, and they came to a halt about fifty yards from where they started. The bridge extended in either direction with nothing underneath it but a dark drop into the unknown. A perfectly-timed gust of chilly wind tossed aside their damp hair as they assessed the situation. "Objective?" Heero asked. By now, he knew the drill. "Diving!" Duo declared, rubbing his hands together vigorously. "This bridge is over a creek, and I started to jump off it when I was little to get over my fear of heights. Normally, I'd leave my shoes and socks up here and pick them up once I'd climbed up out of the water, but since we're soaking wet anyway..." "Duo, I don't hear any water." The chef paused. "Wha...of course there's water! This is the deepest part of the creek! I wouldn't go diving onto solid rock, would I?" Heero could have debated that point, but instead bent down and picked up a pebble from between the wooden railway ties. He tossed it from the bridge and it disappeared into the darkness. Duo looked smug until they heard the sound of the pebble ricocheting off a rock with a sharp clink, then dropping into water seconds later. Duo scrunched up his face in annoyance. "You just hit a high spot, that's all." He picked up a pebble of his own and tossed it more towards the center line of the creek. It hit rock after rock after rock, and there was no sound of the pebble falling into water as before. "When were you here last?" Heero asked. "Uh...a few years...maybe..." "Is it possible that the creek was diverted for hydro-electric production?" Duo stared at the inky black void, then groaned and sat down on the bridge dejectedly. "Dammit! I don't believe this!!" Uncertain, Heero sat down next to him, and they both dangled their legs over the side. "Duo, it's just a creek. Nothing stays the same forever." "It's not the creek!" Duo whined. "I wanted...I wanted to help get you your confidence back. I know you're still upset about what happened at the docks, and I know you're even more upset that it's bugging you so much. You hate the fact that you hate what you did, I know you do...even if I don't understand why, I still think you're being too hard on yourself over the whole thing. I wanted to give you something easy to do, that'd maybe help your ego a little. Diving off this bridge was a cinch, I figured." He twisted his braid in an agitated way with both hands, more disappointed in himself than the creek. "I'm sorry. It's stupid, isn't it?" Heero's perpetual glare softened; he was genuinely touched by his friend's concern for his emotional well-being. Mellowed by the constant effort the boy put into making him feel better, he put a kind hand on Duo's shoulder. "No, it isn't. You only wanted to do something nice for me...nobody else would have bothered." Duo looked up at him with plaintive eyes, sensing that subtle note of self-hatred that only rarely made it's way into Heero's conversation, when his guard was down. "You know that...if you ever wanna talk about...y'know, what you went through as a kid, I'll listen. It must've been pretty awful, right?" The butler didn't answer, just put both hands on the iron rail and stared out into the midnight blue sky. Duo slouched and did the same. "It's okay. Take your time. You can talk about it whenever you want, or not at all. I'm not going anywhere." They shared a moment of serenity, suspended high above the dried-up riverbed, and just enjoyed the quiet, something that was often in short supply in London. Slowly, some unknown force made them turn their heads toward each other, and last to fall into place were their eyes, gazing across the same path that connected azure and violet in the changing moonlight. Imperceptibly at first, Duo began to lean ever so slightly towards Heero, as if longing to say something without words. Heero didn't copy the motion, but didn't move away either. Some invisible force was holding him in place as Duo inched closer, leaning into the other boy's side so carefully, not wanting to unbalance him, but not wanting to turn back... Out of nowhere, a train whistle blew in the distance. The boys looked up very suddenly at the sound, then back down at each other. Duo swallowed and pulled away. "It's...probably on another track...there's lots of them around here..." He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself instead of Heero. "You wanna call it a night and go get a drink somewhere?" The whistle blew a second time, a fraction louder than the first. Heero tilted his head towards the sound, trying to get a fix on it, eyebrows knit with concentration. Duo tugged on his sleeve. "Hey...hey, y-you're making me nervous, now..." A third whistle was heard, and the faint noise of wheels clanking on the iron rails began to accompany it. Heero maneuvered himself between the rails and put a hand on one of the metal strips; it was vibrating to a minute degree, but that was all the proof he needed. "It's on this track!" he said firmly, betraying a tiny note of fear in his normally intrepid voice. They both stood, and Duo immediately got a solid grip on Heero's arm. "Wh-which way is it coming from? I can't tell!" The sounds were echoing off the walls of the ravine, making it all but impossible to decide from which direction the train was approaching. They possibly had only seconds to think, and the wrong choice would lead them directly into the train's path. More whistles blared, closer and closer, and the clattering wheels were becoming more distinct; there was serious danger involved in delaying the decision. "Back the way we came!" Heero ordered, pushing Duo ahead and thinking that, at least that way, Duo would be safely off the bridge ahead of him. They started walking as quickly as they could back across the bridge, but the slippery wood kept them from running, as their survival instincts told them to do. Suddenly, after about twenty yards' travel, Duo stopped and froze, making Heero skid to a shaky stop to keep from running into him. "What's the--" The question never made it past Heero's lips, as he saw for himself what made Duo stop his hasty progress. Far ahead, past the end of the bridge, was the winding path they had followed to get there, and in the trees that surrounded the tracks, the leaves were turning from black to bright green as they were illuminated by a fast-moving light. The train's front spotlight appeared out of the woods, and they instantly knew with terrible dread that they had chosen the wrong direction. Both boys did an about-face and ran full speed towards the far end of the bridge, ignoring the danger of slipping on the rain-slickened wood and stones. The train's whistle blared insistently, and in the back of their minds they wondered if the engineer could see them, or if he was even able to stop the train if he did. Beneath their tiring feet, the bridge began to shake from the weight of the cars and the force of the engine; the train was gaining on them easily, and Heero could no longer detect the sound of Duo's laboured breathing behind him. If not for a sudden stream of obscenities blasted at high volume, he might have thought for an instant that Duo had fallen off the bridge. Now the whistle was shrieking in short, sharp bursts; the engineer could probably see them, but had built up far too much speed to stop the train in time. The brakes were activated, shooting out cascades of steam that just added to the ear-shattering noise, but the deceleration was negligible, and the train thundered forward like a runaway. Duo stumbled and lost his footing, nearly tumbling over the side of the bridge, but his cries were drowned out by the deafening din, and Heero couldn't hear him. The butler placed all of his trust in Duo's steady footing, which the boy had displayed time and again, and continued on towards safety, only a short distance away. He could feel the heat generated by the engine on his back as he ran, each step becoming more unsteady as the vibrations grew worse and worse. When he was within five feet of the ground, with the steam from the overexerted brakes puffing out around him, he leapt ahead and to the left hoping to make it off the tracks before the train ran him over. He rolled down a short slope and fell into a rain-filled ditch, counting off three full seconds before he heard the train careen past. Adrenaline continued to surge through Heero's system, yet he managed to drag himself out of the mud and filth and look around for his friend, who he assumed was behind him the entire time; he could not see the boy anywhere. He shouted above the noise of the train, car after car of which rolled by loudly. "Duo!?.....DUO!!" He waited for Duo to pop up from the weeds and slap him on the back with a smile, but there was no reponse. Over and over he hollered Duo's name, but nobody answered. After the eighth try, his voice began to crackle and give out, the clickety-clack of the wheels being too much competition. Heero was slowly consumed by a swirling dizziness as he contemplated the possibility that Duo didn't make it. Why didn't I look behind me? He might have fallen...he might have... The dizziness caught up with him, and he fell down on his hands and knees in the soggy, muddy marshland. It hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't even hear the train anymore, just an awful, droning buzz that filled his ears, his eyes, his throat, threatening to choke him to death. At that moment, he would have welcomed its chilling hand to save him from this agony. Minutes passed, and so did the seemingly endless train. The last car clattered off the bridge and away down the path for parts unknown. Heero knelt with his head hanging down and both hands tightly clenched around clumps of grass, paralyzed. He wanted desperately to just stop breathing, but his lungs kept drawing in rain and air in short spasms. The clouds gave up raindrops like millions of tears so easily; Heero envied them. A frantic cry burst through the deluge. "Heero!?" Heero let go of the grass and looked up, thinking his heart truly had stopped. He scrambled up the slope to the railroad tracks and saw Duo on the other side, horror and anguish painted across his face. He had simply jumped to the right hand side of the track instead of the left. Duo looked up, saw that Heero was alive and well, then nearly went to pieces, crawling and slipping up the right hand side of the slope as he coughed and choked on his own tears. He leapt right over the tracks and tackled Heero in his frenzy, and they tumbled back down the left hand slope together. When they finally came to rest against the trunk of a water-logged willow and crawled up on their knees, Duo flung his arms around Heero and kissed him once, quickly, on the lips. He began sobbing into his friend's shoulder, moaning the same distraught apology over and over again. Overwhelmed by shock, Heero was numbed from head to foot; slowly, he brought his arms around the quivering, broken wreck of a boy, and just squeezed him as hard as he could. Duo seemed traumatized; of all the stunts he had arranged, this was the first one that had ever gone wrong. The vision of always having a handle on the situation was shattered. "I'm sorry, Heero," he choked, "...I lost control..." Calmed significantly by Duo's presence, Heero reached up and stroked the boy's sopping wet hair, bringing his own ragged breathing back down to a more serene rhythm. "You lost the illusion of control," he whispered softly, "you never really had it." They let the rain pour over them again, trickling down their battered forms and slowly washing away the terror and despair, leaving behind the relief and kinship that would heal them both in time. **********"I don't think you could say 'e was all over 'im, sir," the timid maid's voice assented. "It were really just a pat on the shoulder, like...'e didn't mean nothing by it, I'm sure." Treize nodded and tapped the arm of his wing chair thoughtfully. "Yes...thank you, Bethany, that will be all." The young girl exhaled and made a swift retreat out of the Count's private study and shut the door behind her, spooked and bewildered at the odd questions Treize had asked. She really couldn't see any sense in prying into the friendships of the other servants, least of all Duo's. The boy was just naturally open and affectionate, something of an American trademark in England, and she was quite sure he didn't mean to offend anyone. Nevertheless, Treize had wanted to know the strangest details about how he behaved around the other members of the staff, Heero in particular. Still confused, Bethany scampered away down the stairs before the Count changed his mind and thought up some more bizarre questions for her. Back in the study, Treize mulled over the verbal accounts he had collected thus far with great interest. Apparently, the chef was much more friendly with his young nemesis than any other person in the household; why Heero should attract the lion's share of the braided fool's attention was something he didn't have to think too hard to decide, and the reasons why he constantly followed Heero around on his fact-finding missions were becoming deliciously clear. I should have known, any boy with hair like that would display certain...tendencies. I may have just discovered Mr. Yuy's Achilles' Heel. This calls for a drink. Settling back in his favourite chair, he poured himself a large whiskey to celebrate his findings. "Catch!" a voice called out. Treize looked up, startled, and saw a shimmering coin flying through the air at him, twisting and flipping itself in random patterns, and throwing orange light from the single candle all over the room. Without thinking, he threw up a hand and caught the coin. It was a half-crown, like one of the few coins he obtained on his arrival in England for train tickets and meals and such. He glanced quickly up at a spot in front of him, where logic dictated the person who threw the coin had to have been standing, but there was no one there. "Enjoying the good life?" the voice mocked again. At the same instant, Treize felt a knife at his throat, and froze. He knew this voice; it was the proud voice of the porter at the train station in Dover, the one who had followed him halfway across Europe. The one to whom he had given a half-crown just to establish that he knew he was being followed. "Care to introduce yourself?" Treize asked, nonplussed by the dagger pressed against his jugular. A tanned, golden face appeared on the cusp of the Count's peripheral vision, with slanted eyes and dark hair. "Chang Wufei." "I don't know anyone by that name," Treize said calmly. "I'd never met you before you started tailing me in Hamburg." "Oh, I know," Wufei agreed, "but believe me, we go way back. You just haven't made the connection yet." He removed the dagger and stepped into view, tucking it away someplace where it couldn't be seen among his baggy, pristine white clothes. He left slightly wet footprints wherever he stepped. "You and I have some unfinished business to discuss." Treize took a sip of the whiskey. "Go on." "Not just yet," Wufei countered. "We will have a serious discussion about some other matters, but at present, we seem to have a common enemy to get rid of." "Let me guess," Treize said, putting the whiskey glass down. "Heero Yuy." Wufei smirked. "Now, was that luck, or skill?" "Resignation. His name just doesn't want to stop popping up lately." "As much as I'm opposed to making deals with my enemies," Wufei said, "this deal might be well worth it for both of us. I have some information you may be highly interested in, judging by the conversations you've been having this evening, but once Yuy is out of our hair, it's back to business. There are things between you and I that need very badly to be sorted out, but they can wait for awhile." Treize arched one of his forked eyebrows in naked curiosity. "And you'd give me this information for free?" "I think it would be mutually beneficial," Wufei said, "and I think you'll agree once you hear what I have to say." There was silence in the study for a few moments, then Treize kicked his feet up on the red velvet footstool and steepled his fingers together in front of him, awaiting the news. Wufei smiled wickedly, and began. "This evening, as I just happened to be walking down by the railroad tracks..." |
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Next, in Episode Twenty-Three: After Heero is called away to appear before Lord Jeffrhyss, Treize begins implementing his latest plan to break the boy's spirit, but as one resident of Cloverderry Glen will discover, the spirit could be long gone before it ever realizes what's happened. Duo plays an unwitting role in Treize's scheme, but at a terrible cost that could change the Manor and its residents forever.
Additional Disclaimers: Pierre LaRoche is a guy I plucked out of nowhere, so if I stole his name from any other author, sorry, accident. By the way, if not, he's mine. *grin* ALSO....do NOT, for the love of CHEESE NIPS go walking along railway bridges, anytime, anywhere, anyhow!! =x_X= I can't afford dismemberment lawsuits! Now, I lost the little piece of paper with my schedule on it, so I don't have a date for the next episode...sometime towards the end of next week. As soon as I find the paper, I'll post the real date! Promise! =^_^=
UPDATE... I found the piece of paper! *yay* Episode 23 is due October 25th!