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Are you ready for some unpleasantness? *sadistic laugh* 'Course you are. >=D This episode carries a warning for violent torment and suffering, as if you nice people didn't know me well enough to figure something nasty was on it's way. heh heh heh...

Disclaimer: Halloween is almost upon us, and I refuse to believe that 24 is too old to go trick-or-treating. I've got my pillowcase for the candy, I've got my clear plastic poncho in case it rains, and I've got my super-duper long-distance running shoes so my feet don't get tired. I've got just about everything I need...but do ya think I can find any green tank tops and black spandex in the middle of October? Hell no. =~.~= Guess I'll be a ghost again this year...oh yeah, and none of the people in this fic belong to me, except a few bit players I dreamed up while eating Apple Jacks.

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Episode Twenty-Three: Reckoning of Sorrows

"I slept and dreamed that life was beauty.
I awoke -- and found that life was duty." ~Ellen Stugis Hooper

October 25th, 1901

Duo's nightmares began the same night as the near-fatal accident with the train. Time and again he woke up in a panic, as phantom locomotives caught him by the heels and dragged him down into a swirling, crushing abyss of wood, steel, and rain. Time and again, Heero was there beside him when he woke, to squeeze his arms and stroke his hair, and to whisper over and over that everything was all right. He couldn't think where he might have picked up such a skill, for he was quite certain that no one had ever done that for him.

Now, because of the night terrors that haunted him, Duo didn't just curl up close to Heero in his sleep, but latched onto him fiercely, with both arms wrapped around the boy's waist and his head firmly pressed against Heero's chest. This benefited them both, for on those slightly rarer occasions when Heero awoke with a start, having just dreamed a frighteningly similar dream, he only had to feel the pressure and warmth that was added to his body to instantly know that all was well.

The unspoken arrangement worked for many nights, and neither one thought there was anything improper about it.

**********

"Let's see, what else...definitely some canapés, and perhaps some champagne too! With twenty guests, that makes about...Otto, how much champagne does one person generally drink?" Relena paced excitedly about the front parlour while Otto stood in one place, sleepily jotting down the girl's rapid musings. The unveiling of her newly-redecorated drawing room was that evening, and there was still much to be done.

"And you'll have to bring the phonograph in here, as well. I want the whole room to be filled with music!" She never gave the man enough time to interject, just bounced merrily from one topic to the next.

"Yes'm," Otto droned quietly, already tired out from the early start. Breakfast hadn't even been served yet, and the house steward was sorely missing his morning coffee.

"And what about some little desserts that people can nibble on while they enjoy the scenery?" Relena continued. "How many are we, now? There's you, me, Uncle Treize, Dorothy, and Wufei, and the guests...I've gotten back nearly all the R.S.V.P.'s...oh, and I've asked that nice Mr. LaRoche from down the road...and Lady Une, of course, she'll be positively green with envy!"

Even in his caffeine-deprived state, Otto noticed that one name was conspicuously absent. "M'lady, what about Heero?"

At the butler's mention, Relena stopped flitting about the parlour and looked down, bringing a hand to her throat to toy lightly with a little golden swan on a chain. "He won't be attending. He needed to go out to the country for a few days, so I gave him the time off."

"More time off!?" Otto bellowed, awake at last. "He's just had three weeks on a cruise ship to America and back, wasn't that enough!?"

Relena glared up at the man defensively. "He said it was urgent business! I know he wouldn't ask if it weren't important!"

"Really." Otto towered over her, and she actually shrank away from his commanding gaze. "Did he tell you what this 'urgent business' was?"

"....no....."

Otto shook his head and frowned. "You give that boy far too many liberties, and all people like that know how to do is take advantage. Now who's going to serve the drinks at your unveiling tonight?"

Relena looked away sheepishly. "I don't know......someone......"

"You didn't think at all, did you? You just gave him whatever he wanted, like you always do. And what sort of 'business' could a mere servant possibly have anyway, hm? Did you think about that? Of course not. What's wrong with young girls today..." He walked away muttering about how things used to be in his day, but couldn't tell her what was really irritating him. I had no idea Heero was leaving town, and neither did Treize, most likely. If this ruins his plan, he'll have my head!

Relena just scuffed the carpet with one shoe, tracing little circular patterns to avert her eyes from her angry guardian. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't a very bright move to let Heero run all over the countryside whenever he liked, and for a moment she considered tracking him down before he left to catch his train, to ask him if the trip was really necessary.

She fingered the golden charm again, running her thumb over the shining white stone that was the swan's single eye. No. All men need a little space, it's one of their most enduring traits. It should be my priviledge to grant him some time to himself, and it's not going to ruin my unveiling at all. Tonight is going to be a glorious time in Bridlewood's history, and it's going to be wonderful no matter what!

**********

Duo had the purpose of Heero's trip to the countryside fully explained to him so he wouldn't worry; he worried anyway, convinced that something was rotten in the state of Denmark. Heero was to return to his master, to answer for the failed mission weeks earlier. The only thing that kept Duo from going right off the deep end with worry was that Heero seemed to be at ease with the situation.

"There's nothing I can do to avoid it...in fact, I've been expecting it since we returned," Heero said as he wound up his pocketwatch. "No matter what my reasons were, there's no escaping the fact that I missed the target...and 'lost' the rifle...I'll have to account for that as well."

Duo continued to mope around their bedroom, unconvinced, coming to a halt at the writing desk chair and slumping sadly into it. "Can't he just take it out of your paycheck or something?"

Heero shook his head. "Lord Jeffrhyss doesn't operate that way."

"Well, he should," Duo griped in a low, angry tone. "Better than dragging you out to God-knows-where. I wish I could go with you...and I would, if Relena hadn't decided to throw this silly little room-warming party tonight. Five dozen hors d'oeuvres, six trays of petit-fours, and Otto wants them all done before lunch! What a slave driver..."

Heero took a train schedule out of the top desk drawer and gave his friend a sympathetic look. "You're more than capable."

"I know," Duo sighed, "but I don't want to be wasting my time on a roomful of snobs while you're getting chewed out a hundred miles away." He stood up and faced the butler with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "I'm glad you didn't shoot the President, but it's still my fault that you got in trouble for it, because I'm the one that distracted you. Now you're leaving to see some guy I do not trust one bit, and I can't come along...I worry, okay? I want to help you."

After a long, sweet, thoughtful pause, Heero put the train schedule away in his inside jacket pocket and regarded the boy with a soft glance. He placed both hands on Duo's shoulders, where they only remained a moment before moving up to either side of his neck, cradling his head gently. "You can help me by being here when I get back," he said, sounding like a ship's captain giving commands to his crew.

Duo smiled. "So you are coming back, right? I couldn't help but notice that you're not taking any luggage," he joked.

"I won't need luggage where I'm going," Heero said somberly, turning towards the door. "Thankfully, I should only be gone overnight, two days at the most." He swung the door open and they both left the room, locking the kittens and some other important items safely inside. Heero had cleaned out his safe into the desk drawers to prevent a certain rival agent from gaining entry, and wasn't about to take any chances. "Got your key?"

"Yup!" Duo chirped, patting the front of his shirt where a duplicate key hung on a chain underneath the starchy white fabric. "Go on, then, scram! You don't wanna miss that train."

Prior doubts about how well Duo would take his departure vanished; Heero nodded once and headed down the stairs. Duo hesistated for a moment before following, but he realized that Heero didn't take any situation lightly, and would be on his guard the entire time. Comforted by that thought, he trotted downstairs to fix the nibbles for Relena's soirée.

**********

It took nearly half a day's journey to reach Cloverderry Glen, even on a good day. The backwater hamlet wasn't on very many maps, and every person Heero asked had a different set of directions to offer. At last he found a buggy driver who seemed to know where he was going and arrived in the town square around midday.

The tiny village was quite a busy place, despite the miniscule population. Vendors and shops enjoyed steady business, and the pub was always open. Now the only matter at hand was to find Lord Jeffrhyss; Heero had the address memorized, but had never been to the area. His Lordship generally saw fit to change his base of operations every few years or less, drawing from a list of covert locations as long as his good arm.

Logically, the place to find the most knowledgable people, Heero decided, would be the post-office, which he located without difficulty. Entering the quaint, stone-walled building, he found several chatty villagers inside, and one attendant behind the desk, a statuesque brunette who quietly handed out letters, stamps, and packages to the customers.

At a random moment, the woman looked up out of professional interest to see who had entered the shop; it was a simple glance at first, but she blinked and looked up again, studying Heero in a curious fashion. Then, after her eyes glimmered with militant realization, she said something to a plump, grey-haired woman nearby and stepped out from behind the counter. The plump woman took over her duties as she walked over to meet Heero.

"You're here to see his Lordship?" she asked.

In a flash, Heero put two things together. Lord Jeffrhyss must have given his description to this woman, who must also be the woman who had begun transcribing all of his correspondence for the last few months. Heero nodded curtly. "Is there a message?"

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I'm supposed to take you there."

Heero raised an eyebrow and stepped aside. "After you."

The woman regarded him carefully, almost nervously, and left the building ahead of him, head slightly lowered. Even Heero's untrained sixth sense had no trouble picking up on the decidedly unhappy vibes coming off her as he followed her out. Agents of high standing are conceited. Agents of low standing are ambitious. Lackeys and hired hands are subservient, but generally not displeased with their work. He watched her intently as they walked through the town square; every few steps, she looked furtively over her shoulder at him. This woman is afraid. She can't possibly be part of the network, so if Jeffrhyss has her doing his office work, he must have a hold on her somehow.

Picking up his pace a little, Heero walked up beside the woman, keeping a comfortable distance between them. "Do you know my name?"

She hesitated before answering truthfully. "No."

The boy extended a hand to her, hoping to gain some trust. "Heero."

With a slightly surprised look, she took his hand briefly. "Lucrezia," she said, deciding that there was no point in keeping up the charade in front of Lord Jeffrhyss' associates. "The villagers know me as 'Lucille'...and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course." Now Heero had a vague idea of why Jeffrhyss was able to twist this woman's arm into doing his bidding, but for the time being, he opted not to press her for details. Ordinarily, he would have used every angle to discover a secret that might be useful, but something about the young lady and her situation made Heero think she could be more valuable working with him, rather than against him.

They walked in silence for awhile, out of the village and down a narrow country road, damp and muddy from the recent rains. Not a soul was to be seen in any direction, as if the locals all knew by now to steer clear of the area. The countryside was still, beautiful, and fresh, with lush hues of green, amber and red exploding from the fields and surrounding woods; it was a far cry from the dingy, abysmal urban hovels that Heero had been kept in most of his life. Thinking back, the boy could scarcely remember ever seeing such brilliant colour before.

Noin stopped suddenly, backing up against a waist-high stone wall, old and crumbled, a relic of an earlier age. "The cottage is further down the path...you can see it from here." She seemed unwilling to get any closer to Heero's destination; he wondered exactly how much Jeffrhyss had told her about his organization, but knew that to a civillian, the man's mere presence was cause enough for severe apprehension.

Heero looked down the path, then back at Noin. "You have nothing to fear from me," he said simply. Leaving her with one last firm glance, he turned and headed down the path towards the cottage by the millwheel.

Noin leaned back and braced herself against the stone wall. For reasons she didn't comprehend, she believed what he said, and counted it the second time she'd had a false suspicion quashed on that very spot. Maybe it's a good-luck wall, she thought, exhaling.

She made her way back up the path, hoping to be back at her post before Mrs. Trimble became too worried. While she was still some distance from town, however, four large, surly-looking men approached her, dressed as casual labourers. They neared, stepped to the side, and passed Noin without incident, walking in the direction of the cottage. She took careful note of all their faces and realized that she didn't recognize any of them.

Strange...I thought I'd met all the people in Cloverderry, even the farmhands. Maybe they're from a neighbouring village. Something about that made her slow down and look over her shoulder, but she kept on walking. Odd, though, that five strangers would all show up on the same day.

Noin froze. She knew much better than this; living in secret amongst the peasants may have softened her a little, but she still had a first-class strategic mind and knew how to use it. She turned around and squinted at the winding path; the four workmen were indeed headed straight for Lord Jeffrhyss' cottage.

Feeling a new, deadly chill in her veins, Noin ran all the way back to town and began frantically searching the streets for someone. She quickly found who she was looking for and couldn't help but question her own judgement. There, in the center of the village square, balancing on the thick stone rim of the gazing pool, was the mushroom-haired man. He wore his typical poor man's rags and straw hat, and was earnestly puffing on his pipe as he played his 'village idiot' part to the fullest.

"I need to talk to you, now," she whispered, craning her neck to look up at him.

"Have you ever wondered," the man said, "if a pool of water opens up into the sky, so that by jumping into it, you'd actually be falling from the heavens?" He looked intently at the water a few inches from his feet. "If that were so, and if you jumped into the water too far from the edge, when you fell from the sky there'd be nothing to grab onto, and you'd just keep falling and falling, forever and ever until the pond dried up." He was speaking in his normal voice without an accent, but was sounding insane nevertheless.

"Drop the act, would you?" Noin begged, exasperated. "This might be important."

Intrigued, the mushroom-haired man winked at the woman and hopped down from the edge of the pool. As they began walking slowly about the square, he took two stray sprigs of autumn wheat from his straw hat and handed them to Noin one by one with a dramatic flourish. "There's rosemary, that's for remembrance...and there is pansies. That's for thoughts," he said, resuming a long draw of his pipe. "Now, tell me your thoughts, child."

Noin quietly recounted everything that happened from the time Heero came into the post office building. The mushroom-haired man puffed away at his pipe and said nothing until her tale was finished; he looked expecially attentive when she described the rough-looking men who appeared to have followed her and the boy out to the cottage. "This young man," he said, "what did he look like? Was he short, but imposing? Young, but intimidating? Quiet demeanor, dark spiky hair, eyes to die for?"

"Yes..." Noin said slowly, "his name is Heero. Do you know him?"

The mushroom-haired man lowered his pipe and sighed. "There's nothing we can do to help him now, my dear...from the sound of things, you won't see him again for awhile, either. Poor boy...I wonder what he's done..."

Noin's eyes went wide. "What do you mean, 'poor boy'? What's going to happen to him?"

The man shook his head and started walking back to the center of town. "Pray hard for him, child...pray hard."

**********

Heero was somewhat disappointed with the exterior of the cottage, but knowing his master, he felt sure that its humble appearance masked a center of operations of the highest sophistication. As he reached the rickety front door, he mentally prepared himself for the lecture on duty, honour, and the virtues of obedience. He'd heard it all before.

He swung the door open without knocking and went inside, knowing he was expected. The interior of the house was in a state of disarray that accurately complimented the broken pavers and scraggly weeds outside. A brief search revealed no upper floor, nobody on the main floor, and a staircase leading down.

Without a second thought, Heero marched calmly and quietly down the stairs into a messy but inviting room that was many times the size of the cottage itself. Several doors doubtlessly led to other chambers, but the main room was the most impressive, filled with enough equipment and artifacts to keep even an amateur scientist busy for ten lifetimes. Heero recognized some of it, but what appeared to be quite new was a corner housing several dozen potted plants, some of which bore red and white flowers with broad petals. They seemed strangely out of place.

"Come closer," a deep, gravelly voice boomed. Heero recognized that too, and he didn't particularly like it. Some yards away, seated in an armchair in front of a finely-crafted chessboard, was Lord Jeffrhyss, hand and hook upon his cane and staring forward. His face, like always, was unreadable.

Heero approached his master and stopped at a precisely-measured distance beyond which the cane couldn't reach. He assumed his usual position, hands at his sides and standing ramrod straight, awaiting instructions.

"Twelve years of training," Jeffrhyss said in a dull tone. "Twelve years during which I neglected my other projects, left underlings in charge of vital operations, and sacrificed countless chances to expand my influence in the world...all so I could focus on you."

Heero said nothing; he knew better than to speak without being asked a direct question.

"I don't expect failures. I most certainly will not tolerate blatant disobedience." Jeffrhyss lifted his gaze away from the chess pieces and directed it at his wayward agent, eyes hidden by dark spectacles. "You were given optimal conditions, tools, and opportunity to terminate McKinley. You hesistated. Were you afraid of getting caught? Were you intimidated by a few police and military personnel? Hm? Did you doubt my judgement so much to think that I would send you into a situation from which you could not escape?"

Jeffrhyss picked up a black pawn from the chessboard and turned it over in his fingers. "Do you have any comprehension of the severity of your error? It means that one of my rivals may be able to take credit for the hit, but this wasn't to be an ordinary mark on the scorecard...oh no...McKinley's death was a critical prize, worth more to the game than your tiny mind could ever imagine."

Heero looked surprised, not for the importance that was placed on the hit, but for the fact that he was being told something about the rivalry between the various organizations like this one. It was a rare insight into his master's mind.

Jeffrhyss saw the slight change in expression on Heero's face, and set his jaw tightly. He put the pawn back down hard and rose from his chair, leaning heavily on the cane. "Ahhh...I see that you finally realize your mistake." He plodded over to Heero and stopped with only a few feet between them. "But I shouldn't be able to see that at all. Displaying emotions so easily is a tactical weakness...one that I thought I had eliminated from you."

Above them, on the main level, the door opened and heavy, clunking footsteps tramped across the room. Heero looked up at the ceiling involuntarily, again showing surprise. He quickly looked back down and attempted to appear stone-faced, but it was too late.

"I see now that we released you from your training too early," Jeffrhyss said quietly as the footsteps started down the stairs. "Immediate reconditioning is necessary, keeping in mind, of course, that before you are allowed to leave this facility, you must pay for your mistakes."

Heero glanced over at the stairs and saw four large, hulking men, three of whom he recognized, dressed as farmhands in order to blend in with the rest of the village. His stomach churned as he realized that he wasn't getting off with a simple lecture. The three brutes he knew formed a ring around him, while the fourth took a key from Jeffrhyss and opened one of the heavy-sounding doors that dotted the walls of the basement chamber. Jeffrhyss gave a gaslamp to another one of the men, for the room beyond the door had no lights and no windows.

Knowing it was useless to fight back or try to escape, Heero accepted the inevitable and allowed the men to corral him into the room to receive his punishment.

**********

Treize sat in a dining room chair, watching with mild amusement as Duo carted tray after tray of bite-sized treats up from the kitchen all by himself. Otto stood with pen and paper, marking off each delicacy from a list as it appeared on the dining room table; Relena and Dorothy came by to 'ooh' and 'aah' over the sumptuous morsels, all while chatting about what a marvellous evening it would be.

At long last, a very exhausted Duo dragged himself in with the final tray and set it down gingerly. "There...that's everything."

Otto checked off the remaining items on the list and nodded. "It's all here, m'lady. All we need now is the extra serving carts."

Nobody moved. With a sigh, Duo remembered that the upper classes just weren't capable of doing anything for themselves, and turned wearily to go look for the carts. "Be right back," he whined softly.

"Cook," Treize said suddenly, snapping his fingers.

Duo cringed, bit his tongue, and turned around. "Yes, sir?"

The Count settled very casually into the hard-backed chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands elegantly. "I quite fancy something different for dinner tonight, just for a change. Make no mistake, your English cuisine is splendid, but one can sometimes do with a rest from the usual...and since tonight is a special occasion..."

"What did you have in mind?" Duo asked, trying hard to remain pleasant.

"Oh, I don't know," the Count said, making a show of thinking very hard, "it's been ages since I enjoyed a good dish of tagliatelle primavera. Do you think you could manage that?"

Duo's face went blank. "Uh...tally-ah-what?"

"Tagliatelle, for goodness sake!" Dorothy scoffed in annoyance, defending her national cuisine. "It means long, flat noodles, you common little--"

"Oh, don't be so harsh with him, Dorothy," Relena interjected, clucking her tongue at her friend. "I didn't know what it was either."

"How's he going to prepare it properly if he doesn't know what it is?" the Baroness yowled. "It'll be a complete shambles!"

"Hey!" Duo barked, pointing an angry finger at the girl. "I can cook anything! Don't think just because a meal is unpronounceable that I won't know what to do with it in my own kitchen!"

Treize covered a grin with one hand; this was even easier than he expected. Dorothy had no knowledge of his plan, and yet she was helping it along beautifully with her indomitable Italian spirit. "I'm so sorry to cause this much trouble over nothing. Why, you probably don't have the ingredients anyway."

"Excellent point, my Lord," Dorothy said with a victorious smile.

Treize looked across the room at Otto, locking eyes with him and giving him a pointed glare. Taking the signal rather nervously, the house steward cleared his throat and turned to Duo. "I know a shop...in the marketplace, that sells....that sells various, um...pasta products, a-and they can even give you a recipe--"

"Ah-HA! I knew it wasn't hopeless! Where is it?" Duo bounded up to Otto excitedly and was proud to write down the shop's address in his own handwriting as Otto recited his well-rehearsed speech. I'll show Little Miss Fork-Face! the chef thought.

Treize smiled warmly at the scene and gave a slight nod of his head to Otto, silently praising him for a job well done. Duo tore the paper out of Otto's notepad and handed it back to him, wrinkling his nose at Dorothy as he did so. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have some shopping to do!" He whirled around and marched out of the dining room, head held high.

A few girlish giggles later, Relena led Otto away to help her choose a few bottles of champagne for later, leaving Dorothy to ponder the look on her dear Count's face. "You're grinning," she said flatly. "What have you done?"

"Do you really want to know?" Treize asked slyly.

Dorothy thought about it briefly, then decided she was already bored with the subject. "No, not really." Flipping her hair over her shoulder snobbishly, she left him to his thoughts.

Treize chuckled. It was just as well, since he had a very private, very crucial telephone call to make. He looked at his pocketwatch and calculated roughly how long it would be before Duo reached the address. Then he would place another call to the police station, ask for the sergeant he spoke to a few times before, and tell him exactly where he and his men could find the long-haired boy they were looking for.

**********

Later that afternoon, Duo put on his well-worn brown tweed suit to go ingredient-hunting in. Hilde, who was partly looking for an excuse to get out of the house for awhile, volunteered to go with him, since she was a bit familiar with the neighbourhood they were bound for anyway. They used some change from the housekeeping money to take a cab as far as the general area, then got out and started walking around. Duo was half-hoping to find some other exotic things to cook with in the days ahead, just to show Dorothy up.

"She gets on my nerves so bad," he said as they strolled through the busy street. "Never has anything nice to say, always the first to complain if dinner is ten lousy seconds late...somebody oughta take her down a peg. I can see now why Quat prefers the company of weeds."

Hilde giggled and clutched his arm tighter, almost hanging off it. "You don't get a fraction of the respect you deserve. You should open a restaurant, become a millionaire, buy the manor, and hire Dorothy as your maid!"

"Nah, you wouldn't be able to see the furniture for the dust bunnies," Duo replied, elliciting more laughter from the girl. "Besides, I talk big sometimes, but I'm not that good a cook...average, probably...I mean, I get by...in an amateurish sorta way..."

"There you go again, putting yourself down," Hilde scolded while poking him in the ribs. "You never believe people when they tell you you're appreciated, and maybe Miss Dorothy complains the most, but I'll bet you've never heard anyone else in the house complain at all! You're a good friend and you're good at what you do, because you do it with love...like Helen taught you. I'm gonna keep reminding you of that until it sinks in."

Duo smiled through a blush and looked down at his feet. "Yeah, yeah, whatever..."

"I mean it!" Hilde stopped and tugged Duo around to face her. "If you think about it, you'll know I'm right...and if you give it enough time, you'll be surrounded by more love in that house than some people get their whole lives." She squeezed his arm and tilted her face up to his. "Because you're special."

They smiled fondly at each other, leaned forward, and rubbed noses in a childlike manner, then broke apart laughing. "So are you, kiddo," Duo sighed, "so are you."

"So anyway, on a totally different topic," Hilde declared with a wink and a sly smile, "when's Heero coming back?"

As they began gabbing away about this and that while offhandedly reading numbers on storefronts, a small cluster of darkly-uniformed men watched the pair from behind. The man in charge checked a written description of the suspect they were to apprehend--a teenage boy in a brown tweed suit and cap, with long brown hair woven into a braid. He was unmistakeable.

"Right, lads," the sergeant told his constables, "let's nab 'im now, an' we'll be back in time for tea." The policemen nodded to each other and converged on the suspect.

**********

Noin worried the rest of the night, and she was right to do so. She stood at her bedroom window, in the converted loft of the Trimble's cottage, searching the pitch black countryside for any trace of young Heero, but it was fruitless. No sounds came through the night air except the clanking of cowbells and the occasional barking dog. The boy had been blotted out of existence, as far as it appeared.

Eventually, she gave up and took some brandy, to settle her nerves and to help her get to sleep. The peculiar young man had occupied her thoughts all day, and she anticipated that he might invade her sleep as well; something strange and terrible was going on in that cottage by the millwheel, Noin could feel it...but there was nothing to be done. She went to bed, even though it was quite early, if for no other reason than to snatch a bit of peace from the creepy atmosphere.

Outside the village, her vague fears were coming true, in a tiny room in the basement of Lord Jeffrhyss' cottage. There, the boy she sought was kneeling on a cold stone floor, dressed in nothing but short trousers in the same dusty, ratty material as was worn by all of Jeffrhyss' trainees. His hands were bound above him, tightly secured to an iron bar that spanned the tiny room at the perfect height to stretch the boy out helplessly while keeping his scraped and aching knees on the floor.

One man remained in the chamber with Heero, one who was highly practised at his work. He held an old but very reliable whip, and by the light of the gaslamp, he cracked it viciously against the boy's exposed back, ripping thin red lines into the skin with every stroke.

The punishment was handed down by Jeffrhyss after numerous chances for Heero to redeem himself--most of which would have involved giving out Duo's name--were turned down. For the loss of the rifle, which was determined to be simple carelessness, ten lashes. For the disappearance of the money, which could only have been through deliberate disobedience, thirty lashes. Ironically, there would be no penalty at all for missing the target, because it would never be known whether or not Heero would have made the hit, since someone else got to McKinley first. Jeffrhyss' verdict was elegant and logical in its cruelty.

Nothing was heard but the sound of the whip cracking over and over, drawing new blood and licking at previous wounds. Heero was silent for the entire ordeal, a testament to the training that had gotten him this far in life, but rather than try to meditate himself away from the searing pain, he concentrated on thoughts of home, of Bridlewood, of Duo.

So woozy from the agony he hadn't felt for months, and so focused on more comforting images of the outside world, he forgot the routine that followed the final lash and was unprepared for the bucket of stinging creek water that was splashed over his back to rinse away the blood. Salts and minerals and filth from the stream flowed into the open gashes, magnifying the pain tenfold. Heero inhaled sharply and clenched his fists around the iron bar as his entire back was set on fire, and as his life essence was washed down into the cracks between the rough, flat stones. In all the years he had suffered this treatment, they never once bothered to use clean water.

The man left, and they let Heero hang there, stinging, burning, but still silent. As soon as Jeffrhyss felt that the lesson had stuck, they would remove him from the chamber, clean him up, and tie him to one of those hard, pillowless bunks for the night. In a few days' time, after some reconditioning and after the whip marks had healed somewhat, they would give him back his suit and shoes, his pocketwatch and some money for the train...and send him home.

Nobody would ever know what had happened to him or why, because that was the way it always was, and for the sake of Duo's conscience, Heero was grateful for it.

**********

"Ladies and gentlemen," Relena addressed her honoured guests, "I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it is to have you all here to share this moment with me. When my father passed away, many thought that it would be the end of an era at Bridlewood, that the time of lavish parties and exquisite soirées was long gone, but I'm happy to announce to the world that the manor will not fade away into the history books, and that our entire society will continue to benefit from its unending beauty and hospitality."

The guests gave her a polite round of applause and chattered energetically amongst themselves, mostly about how lovely Lady Peacecraft looked in her new dress and what the new decorating might look like. Lady Une was there, and was mindful enough, at Dorothy's insistence, not to outshine the hostess with any of the more outlandish creations in her own wardrobe. Le Vicomte de Montpellier also attended, without his trademark cat, but instead with his 'friend' from a few doors down hanging off his arm and giggling coquettishly from behind her lace fan.

"I myself haven't seen the new drawing room yet, so I hope you're all as excited as I am!" Relena turned around to face the double doors and squared her shoulders, then drew a deep, soothing breath. "Otto, would you do the honours?"

Otto stepped out from behind the crowd, wearing his best suit, and took hold of the doorhandles. With a regal push, he swung the doors open, letting the fresh scent of new paint and paper rush out to greet the guests. As Otto stood aside and allowed everyone their first look at the room, there was a collective gasp, then an awed hush. Wufei stood at the back of the pack and watched them all file in and twirl around, looking at what had become of Relena's drawing room.

Within seconds of the first few people entering the room, exuberant applause burst forth from every corner as the guests declared it the most fabulous refurbishment of the season. The drab, colourless space was gone and forgotten. Now, the walls were covered in a combination of rich, dark wood and royal blue wallpaper, with tiny patterns of lillies, cranes, and leaves traced onto it in golden ink. The faded brown rug had been taken up and replaced with wall-to-wall carpeting of a deep, enticing red, decorated in the same lily motif with threads of blue, gold, and sienna. Great mirrors with ornate golden rococo frames hung on every wall, expanding the space to nearly twice it's visual size, and above the fireplace, the focal point of the room, was a genuine Gauguin watercolour of Tahitian girls in native dress. Potted ferns and decorative tables abounded, and the new set of chairs and sofas upholstered in lavish blue velvet stood around making their own conversation while the guests wandered in amazement.

Relena, nearly in tears of joy, called for attention and placed herself in the center of the room, where the light from one of the electric chandeliers threw golden sparkles off her new dress of the same colour. "This is just...it's absolutely magnificent!" she squealed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you all to the man responsible, Chang Wufei. I was extremely lucky to find him, and I'm sure after tonight, his social calendar will be filled to the brim!" A wave of demure laughter brushed through the crowd as she reached forward and took the arm of her decorator, dressed head-to-foot in embroidered blue silk the same shade as the wallpaper.

Wufei tried to wave off a fresh round of applause in false humility, then appeared to give in and bask in their collective admiration, just what his ego craved most. "I'll keep this as short as possible, because we can all smell the food, and it's driving us crazy about now!" Another batch of tittering laughter and smiles from the guests. "This space is not just about beauty, but about the search for those among us who are worthy of beauty. Lady Peacecraft shines like a beacon of kindness and good taste for all of London, so I felt it only right that this space should reflect that. She is certainly most deserving to be surrounded by beauty, warmth and comfort, and for this reason I have chosen to bestow upon her this thing of beauty, this refuge from the miseries of the world, this...paradise." His flamboyant speech ended with more applause, and Relena blushed and shook his hand gratefully.

Otto and Doris began handing out the champagne, and the guests toasted Relena, Wufei, and the beautiful new room before starting in on the snacks and nibbles. Relena turned to Wufei with many unshed tears and smiled sweetly at him. "Father would have loved to see this. I'm sure he'd be very happy with the way it turned out. I know I am." She steadied herself with a sip of champagne and gave him a serious but hopeful look. "Would it be a terrible imposition of me to ask you to do some more decorating for me?"

"Not at all, m'lady," Wufei cooed charmingly, "I'm at your disposal."

"Oh, thank you!" the girl chirped. "Please help yourself to the hors d'oeuvres, but I'm afraid that's all there is until breakfast tomorrow. I can't think where my chef's got to...he went out for ingredients to make dinner and then he just disappeared! Elsie had to make some of her emergency soup!" She giggled, not terribly concerned; nothing could ruin this moment.

"It's quite alright, m'lady," Wufei said with a smile, "I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later." Just then, a few of Relena's guests came up to her and were anxious to chat, so Wufei excused himself cordially. He took his champagne over to where Treize was standing, admiring the room in a dignified manner.

"A fine piece of work," the Count said. "Pity some of us couldn't be here to enjoy it." He smiled his trademark smile of superiority and deviousness as he thought of what he had accomplished that day.

"Yes, a great pity," Wufei agreed, smirking back.

"Still, never mind...it's going to be a fine evening nonetheless." Treize listened as Otto put a bright, happy tune on the phonograph, then rose his glass of champagne towards Wufei. "To victory."

"To victory," Wufei repeated, "and to the exhilirating new competition it will bring."

Treize raised a split eyebrow and favoured him with a fiendish grin. Once they could convince Heero to leave Bridlewood, the playing field would be empty except for the two of them, and Wufei's 'unfinished business' would be brought into the open. "Indeed."

They drank, ate, chatted and even danced along with the other guests, soaking up the beauty that surrounded them all like a gossamer blanket. Few of them were to know, however, why certain members of the staff were absent. Hilde, for example, was walking home in tears, having no money for a cab, no one to help her home, and strangely without Duo. She had to leave him where he was, and couldn't even phone Relena for help; during that long, lonely walk home, she felt homeless once again, for Duo was the one part of the manor that made it feel like home, and now he was gone, locked away in a dank little cell until the authorities decided what to do with him.

The chef had been surrounded by the police, pushed around, clubbed over the head as he struggled in confusion and thrown into the back of a horse-drawn patrol wagon. Now he laid on a hard pallet in a stone-walled room, with bars on the door and bars on the tiny window, through which only a trickle of moonlight penetrated. He had leaned on the bars and yelled until his voice gave out, begging for an explanation, and when it was given to him, he slumped back away from the door in defeat and despair, terribly frightened that he had been charged with a crime he could not truthfully deny. He missed Heero, and knew that the nightmares would return that night, but there would be no one to chase them away.

Heero, for his part, was no better off, lying on the usual wooden bunk with his hands tied to the bedpost above his head. It was strangely practical in a way, for it prevented him from lying on his back and aggravating the recently-inflicted wounds. What stung worse than his new scars was that he would be breaking his promise to Duo, that he said he would return in a day or two, and now he would not. Loneliness crept in around him as it had every night for the years he spent as Jeffrhyss' star pupil, but he endured it bravely, knowing that he hadn't betrayed his friendship to his master; that alone, he hoped, would be enough to carry him through to the day when he would be released and the loneliness would end.

And oblivious to it all was the elegant manor house in Regent's Park, full of aristocrats and socialites, enjoying their night filled with drink and song, beauty and wealth, warmth and comfort.


~~~~~~~~~~

Next, in Episode Twenty-Four: Heero returns home only to find Duo in jail, and a multitude of suspects who might be responsible. Duo seems resigned to his fate, but has no idea of how he ended up in his current situation, and when the truth is revealed, Heero must choose between his friendship and the mission. Meanwhile, the newspapers have a regular field day with the news that one of Bridlewood's servants has been arrested--will Relena be able to live it down?

Ooooh, I'm SO evil...*cackles* You just knew I wasn't going to let too many eps go by without some serious pain, right? right. On a lighter note, there were two not-very-well-hidden references to Shakespeare in this episode--did you catch them? =^_~= Next episode comes out October 30th. YES!! Just five days from now! Don't touch that dial...er...mouse...er, like whatever!