Whooo! Lots of stuff to get through tonight! First, there are two dialects used in this episode that were provided to me by a third party who asked not to be named (*lol* ...a good move on her part!), so I get to absolve myself of responsibility for them! =^_^= Whee! Next, Rachel, my beta reader and all-round support system, humbly suggested that you might want to look at this picture --> http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~adamw/1896%20Panhard.htm before proceeding. O-tay?

Disclaimer: In a town called Perfect where there's a Walgreen's on every street corner, every author and authoress has their own set of Gundam pilots to love and to squeeze and to show off to all their friends. But we don't live anywhere near Perfect. *realizes she just ripped off a commercial to explain that she's not ripping off a tv show* Dangit.

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Episode Thirty-Nine: Shy Violet

"Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to know how to lie well." ~Samuel Butler

March 7th, 1902

~*~ Act One ~*~

           The previous morning, Duo had been snoozing quite happily with both arms wrapped around a perfect-sized pillow, when a heavy hand that smelled of grass seed clomped onto his shoulder and shook him awake. He flipped over with a start, eyes shooting open and wisps of hair escaping his braid in all directions, only to see that the special someone in his dream was gone, and the smiling farmhand and his wife were standing at his bedside instead. Without so much as a 'how do', the wife plucked the blankets off him and single-handedly pulled Duo into a sitting position.

           "Don yer clathers! 'Tis aneest cockleert!" the stout farmhand announced, slapping the boy several times about the back.

           "Yeah, yeah, okay! And a 'hey-howdy' to you too! God!" Duo cowered and rubbed his eyes, then blinked at the inky black window to his left. "It's still dark out! What're you doing waking me up at this hou--urrf!" He was sharply cut off by an ugly patterned cardigan being yanked over his head by two very strong and very awake arms.

           "Chell 'ave no crewnting afirm 'ee," the farmhand's wife said gruffly but pleasantly as she tugged the mass of brown knitted wool over his black pajama top. "Ise bote yee 'alf dizzen cole fer nummet, an' ther's tea."

           Upon excavating his messy head from the cardigan, Duo looked around in a fluster. The strange country couple were rushing about, moving faster than he'd ever seen them do, even when he rang the dinner bell. He followed them out the bedroom door into the main room, a combination kitchen and dining area, and noticed three very odd things right away. First, there were two nearly identical white envelopes on the kitchen table, and Duo had lived with the couple long enough to know that all their friends lived within walking distance, and so they had little use for the postal service. Second, one envelope had been opened, and a thick stack of pound notes was spilling out of it. Third and strangest of all, the portly pair were stacking suitcases by the front door.

           "Whoa, whoa, what's all this!?" the chef exclaimed.

           Neither of his hosts slowed down in their bustling activity, but the husband scooped up the opened envelope and the money, shaking it in the air with a gritty, toothy smile. "Diddlecome bulraggle in specs, e' done vaught us arteen day n' night, Tenerife! Ohohoho, dinnet loike hatches of angels, akether!"

           ".......thank you," Duo said, not knowing what else to say. The most pointed word he'd heard so far was 'Tenerife,' and it was also one of the very few words he'd understood since he arrived. Something buried in his distant memory kicked him in the back of the head and told him that Tenerife was a place, but where, he couldn't say. "Are we going on a trip?" he asked warily, not wanting to be relocated again so quickly.

           "Tch! Fitty alkitotle!" the wife called out teasingly, swatting at Duo's spiky bangs. "This 'ouse be yers, bin we's off!"

           Every once in awhile, they made a herculean effort to drop their thick and incomprehensible accents, for Duo's benefit, and that time, the message got through loud and clear. "Wait a minute," Duo said slowly, his grin returning, "you guys are leaving...and I get the house!?"

           The wife smiled and pinched his cheek, then they both picked up their suitcases and trotted outside. To Duo's further astonishment, there was a pony and trap already waiting for them, and its driver clambered down to load his vehicle with the couples' accoutrements, in between yawns. In only a few minutes, the horsecart was fully laden, and the cheery couple waved their goodbyes to their erstwhile lodger as the pony pulled them away. Duo waved back, flabbergasted, and went inside.

           His body screamed for him to go back to bed for a few more hours, but instead he picked up the lit oil lamp they had left on the table and had a look around. The cottage was still full of their things, all their dishes and knickknacks...only their clothes and personal essentials had gone with them, suggesting that they'd be coming back eventually. There was still an unopened envelope on the kitchen table. It was addressed to Duo. Hesitantly, he picked it up and extracted from it a brief but eye-opening letter.

If you're reading this, it probably means that Mr. and Mrs. Hulderfrump, or whatever their name was, have just rushed out the door with a brand new set of faux-crocodile luggage. I've taken the liberty of sending them on a little cruise vacation so you can have the cottage to yourself...and by 'you', I mean you and anyone you plan on surgically extracting from the Peacecraft estate. I'm giving you a day's notice to get ready because the hunt ball is tomorrow, and you'll need to arrange some extra help of the medical persuasion for Heero. Trust me, if you convince him to mutiny, he's going to need a doctor. I'll meet you outside the front gate tomorrow morning at seven, so get cracking! ~G.

           Duo dropped the note back on the table, limply and without co-ordination. He looked at the kitchen counter next and saw six cabbages that could have been real or the remnant of a dream. At worst, they were emergency provisions left by the farmhand's wife, to sustain him until he could get to the village and do some grocery shopping. Cole slaw. Yummy. He really wasn't awake enough to deal with any of it. He promised himself he'd send a telegram to Sally in a few hours, and went back to bed.

**********

           The following day, the seventh of March, Duo had no one but himself to get him up in the morning, but he somehow managed it, if only because the loneliness was getting painful and company was hopefully on its way. He put on a pot of coffee and waited, staring out the kitchen window at a dark blue sky with many of the evening stars still in view. After a short while, a knock came at the door. Duo quickly stumbled over to answer it and was never happier to see his guest as he was at that moment.

           Sally half stood, half wobbled just outside, looking fetchingly dishevelled in her fern green dress. She was blinking much slower than average. "Do you...have any idea...what time I had to leave yesterday to be here for six o'clock? Trains don't run in the middle of the night, Duo! I had to rush out to Southampton at the last minute, find a bed and breakfast, of which I've had four hours of bed and no breakfast, and I just spent the last two and a half hours riding on the back of a farmer's cart with seven dozen turnips and a goat! Add that to the fact that I had to cancel five appointments just to be here, and this damn well better be an emergency!" She didn't seem in the best of moods.

           "Sorry," Duo said sheepishly, waving her inside. "I couldn't tell you any more in the telegram because I was afraid someone might intercept it along the way, and believe me, I wouldn't cause you this much trouble if it weren't really important." He shut the door and joined Sally in the kitchen, where she was sleepily evaluating the innards of the cottage. He scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. "It's about Heero."

           Sally snapped her head around to face him, eyes suddenly intense and focused. "What's wrong with him?"

           "Well, nothing yet, but...it's kinda complicated. How 'bout I give you the condensed version over breakfast?"

           It sounded like a decent offer, and Sally agreed. While he cooked up some eggs, toast, bacon and fried potatoes, he related the essentials of the situation, that Heero was working for a very bad man who delighted in making his life miserable, and that another old man, a friend of the first, was going to help him spring Heero from his virtual prison. Sally's reacted with confusion and a bit of worry. "I don't mean to sound disinterested," she said between forkfuls, "but what do you need me for?"

           Duo shrugged. "I really don't know. This guy just said I should find Heero a doctor before we got started, and you're the only one I can trust." He even showed her Giorgenson's letter to show he was serious.

           Sally put down her fork, examined the letter, and rubbed her eyes with a sigh. "I wonder if I should look into cancelling next week's appointments as well." Duo shrugged at her again, apologetically this time.

           Once they had both eaten their fill, the sunshine was just beginning to paint the sky a dusky periwinkle, and it was time to go. Giorgenson was meeting Duo outside the gates at seven, but he wanted Sally to come along for moral support, among other things. They hiked from the cottage to the front gate, her in her green dress and brown high-laced boots, and he in his brown tweed suit and cap. At two minutes to seven, by Sally's watch, their short wait was shortened even further by a rumbling and rattling noise coming from their right, far down the heavily-shaded country road that connected Sutherby Hall with the village.

           At the speed of a horse's canter, something black and gold and shiny was rolling towards them. It was one of those new-fangled horseless carriages, with a peculiar grey-haired man in a long brown duster and hat at the wheel, on the right-hand side. Duo's jaw dropped as he realized it was Giorgenson, dressed as something other than the village idiot for a change; the vicuna coat and cream silk scarf alone must have cost him a packet.

           The old man pulled the vehicle up to the gate and stopped just in front of his passengers. "Good morning!" he called out merrily as he ably leapt down from the driver's seat. He seemed remarkably fit for his age, and remarkably wealthy for his usual lifestyle.

           "Awesome!" Duo breathed, all but drooling over the automobile. "Is that yours?" he asked eagerly, reaching out to skim his fingers over the black lacquered chassis.

           "Manners, boy, manners!" Giorgenson chided, already smiling at the pretty redhead before him. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your charming companion?"

           Duo backed away from the car quickly. "Yeah, sorry...this is Sally Poole. She's the 'medical help' you asked me to get for Heero."

           "Doctor Poole," Sally corrected with a smile, extending her hand.

           The old man grasped her hand gently and tipped his cap. "Are you really? What's that muscle right there?" he asked, pointing to a spot near the elbow of his outstretched arm.

           Sally laughed once, moderately amused by his surprised tone of voice. "Brachioradialis."

           The moustached smile widened. "Very good. You'll do just fine. Giorgenson's the name, Professor Giorgenson, and I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, mademoiselle." He bent down to kiss her hand, and Duo scrunched away from the scene; the professor was definitely over his little 'phase' that had once kept him fascinated with Jeffrhyss. "You must sit next to me, my dear. Climb in! We've got a long journey ahead of us!"

           "Where are we going?" Duo asked, stepping back up to the shining vehicle.

           "To my base of operations, m'boy! Hop in the back there!" He pointed to the back seat of the automobile, which was slightly raised and didn't look like it belonged there. In fact, there was something very odd about the whole car; it didn't look to be made out of 100% original parts, for a start. The back seat looked as though it had been welded on as an afterthought, and the retractable rain shield had been moved back to accommodate it. Where the rear storage compartment should have been, there was a series of iron counterweights suspended in a geometric pattern by some thick wire and several pulleys. The front end of the car looked totally redone, and was much larger and bulkier than normal, which may have explained the counterweights. Most noticeable about the contraption was its inordinately heavy undercarriage made of thick steel, and the wheels, which were each four thin wheels bonded together at the hubs to make a very wide super wheel on the end of each axle. To top it off, a tall piece of glass in a metal frame had been mounted upright directly in front of the bench seat, for no apparent reason. It was a truly beautiful monstrosity, and it looked slow as molasses.

           "I'd like you both to meet Winifred," Giorgenson said as Duo climbed up and settled himself into the back seat. "She's a '96 Panhard-Levassor, with...a few minor adjustments." He climbed up himself and offered a hand up to a dubious Sally.

           "...how 'minor'?" she asked.

           Giorgenson waited until they were all seated comfortably before giving them the grand tour of his creation. "First, if you wouldn't mind utilizing the safety harnesses provided? We're not going for a leisurely roll through the park, not today!" He demonstrated the straps of thick black elastic that were fastened to the frame and had a sturdy clasp on each end; they were meant to cross a person's chest twice and latch together at the front. Before long, all three were strapped in securely, and Giorgenson started the engine with the push of a button.

           The little engine sprang to life and the whole car shook slightly as the man rattled off a list of his custom tamperings. "The harnesses are my own design, as is this piece of glass in the front. Keeps some of the wind out of your eyes. Next there's the tires...I'd be flim-flammed if I could ever find a decent set of tires with enough grip to my liking, so I made these myself." His audience dutifully looked over the side at the composite wheels.

           "What about all those weights in the back?" Duo asked. "Don't they slow you down?"

           "And all these extra parts!" Sally added. "Are we going to be back by dark?"

           Giorgenson smiled to himself for a long time before reaching to a spot near his right foot and flipping a switch. Instantaneously, the little putt-putt engine cut out and a second, much louder engine kicked in. The car wobbled a little more violently, but the counterweights in the back balanced each movement just enough that it none of the four wheels came close to leaving the ground. With one foot on the brake, he pressed down briefly on the accelerator, and there was a massive thundering roar from the second motor. He chuckled as his passengers squeaked in surprise and fear.

           "I had to do something about that original engine!" he shouted over the din of the idling machine. "Four cylinders, 750 RPM, maxed out at 15 miles per hour! Talk about your gutless wonders! Total waste of good metal, so I made my own engine! Six cylinders plus a whack of extra gears, and a seamless transition mechanism to switch between the two! I've clocked Winifred at 45 miles per hour in all kinds of weather! She's a powerhouse!"

           Sally squeaked a second time and involuntarily grabbed the side of the car. "You can't go that fast! Nobody can go that fast! It's dangerous to your health!"

           Giorgenson shook his head at the panicky woman. "I should've thought you of all people wouldn't take what the medical establishment had to say at face value! Not only is it perfectly safe, but here I am to prove it! I'm her one and only test driver!"

           "He's got a point!" Duo chimed in, leaning as far forward as he could in his elastic harness. "All those doctors who say 15 miles per hour is the limit are men! Wouldn't you love to make them all look like idiots!? All you gotta do is survive the trip to wherever it is we're going!"

           Sally's eyes glazed over with ecstasy. "Let's roll."

           Giorgenson grinned. "You heard her, Winnie! Andiamo!" In a smooth and well-practised motion, he manipulated the clutch, shifted into first gear, rammed the gas, and off they went like a greased cannonball, down the dirt road and out of sight in the twinkling of an eye.

**********

           Quatre wasn't known on either of his home continents for having a temper, but he was getting dangerously close to exploding like the stealthy powderkeg he really was. One of his oldest friends was in great distress thanks to one of his newest acquaintances, and he wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

           At the moment, and for the last several days, just finding Heero to talk to him was the greater problem. Quatre could no longer pick the boy up on his emotional radar, meaning that either Heero had learned of his talent and somehow discovered a way to mask himself from its reach, or that he wasn't feeling anything at all. Quatre was simply too angry to care which.

           Having long since given up on his usual ways of finding people, he conducted a methodical search of the house, room by room, after insisting to Trowa and Hilde that he should do so alone. Both floors above ground turned up no Heero, and all that remained were the few rooms underneath the house. He checked the fruit cellar, the wine cellar, the storm cellar, and the boiler room, to no success, then turned his thoughts to other structures on the grounds; as he exited the boiler room into the chilly air of early spring, a garden shed caught his eye, and he headed for it.

           The shed was a tiny thing, perhaps not more than fifty square feet in which to hide, and sure enough, there was someone hiding in it. Quatre swung the rickety wooden door open and found his quarry, propped up on some wooden crates with Shadow draped over one shoulder, wrapped up in his winter coat and halfway through Kipling's 'Jungle Book' by the light of a single gaslamp. He also appeared to be halfway through a bottle of scotch.

           Quatre frowned in disapproval and folded his arms. "You're not drinking at this hour of the morning..."

           Heero turned the page without visually acknowledging his guest. "When you take into account the last time I actually slept, it's eleven-thirty at night by my internal body clock."

           "So you've been trying to drink yourself to sleep alone in a woodshed with an open flame all night!? What were you thinking!? That's how people get killed out here!" Heero drowsily looked up and made eye contact at last. Quatre's breath caught in his throat as he felt that he really couldn't sense anything from the boy--not anger, not guilt, not anything. Quatre's own fear blocked out his wrath for just a moment, then he remembered why he came. "You've been tough to track down lately...I keep asking all over the house if anyone's seen you, and it's like you don't even exist!"

           "My existence is self-evident," Heero said with surprising clarity, lifting the half-empty bottle to chin level. "I drink, therefore I am." He boldly took another swig as Quatre shook his head in disgust.

           "About your engagement to Rele--"

           "Don't," Heero snapped. "I'd really rather not discuss it."

           "Well, you're in luck, because we're not going to discuss it. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen, got it?"

           Heero slumped backwards a bit, and Shadow leapt down from his shoulder and padded to the other side of the shed, not liking the sudden influx of bad vibes.

           "Relena was my friend long before you showed up, and this engagement of yours is hurting her worse than if you'd never set foot in Bridlewood. She's miserable because she thinks you don't love her anymore, and while I know you never did, it's horrid of you to keep stringing her along like this! All you do is drop a few nice words her way here and there, and then disappear for hours at a stretch! Those phony smiles aren't working anymore, in case you haven't noticed, but she's still clinging to some futile dream that the two of you can actually have a happy and fulfilling life together! If your whole engagement is a sham, why don't you just break it off? End Relena's agony and let her get on with her life, meet someone else, have a real marriage! Stop torturing her!"

           There was absolutely nothing Quatre could say that Heero hadn't already considered. It's all meaningless, though...as long as Treize is here, this is where I must stay. "I can't."

           Quatre squinted at him from above and studied what little he could sense from him; obligation was leaking into the space between them. "The day she hired you...she told me you followed her home from a garden party. Did you...were you sent to find her? To uncover her father's murder?"

           Heero almost laughed. That was just an unexpected bonus that had little bearing on his true mission, but to fool Quatre, or at least get him off his back about it, it would suffice. "Yes, I was sent."

           "Well...if that's true, then you've done your job, and you can leave her alone from now on."

           Heero mumbled something to the effect that Quatre didn't know what he was talking about and lifted the bottle to his lips again. In a sudden fit of rage at being so casually dismissed, Quatre reached down and snatched the bottle away with one hand and hauled Heero to his feet with the other. Heero's eyes widened at the shocking display of strength from the once-frail gardener, then had to quickly focus on not falling over and forgot about it. The book still clung to his right hand as if by magic.

           "I know I can't make you do anything while you're sober, and I have even less chance of doing so while you're drunk," Quatre spat, "so I'm asking you...if you're not prepared to do right by Relena, then break off this engagement and get out of her life." It wasn't clear whether Heero even heard him, from the vacant look in his eyes. Quatre loosened his grip on the boy's collar slightly. "Is there someone else?"

           Heero shut his eyes and remained silent as the question drifted right through him and splattered against the opposite wall. He might have been too insensible to answer, or he might not have known the answer, Quatre couldn't tell. "Just tell her there's someone else, then. It can't hurt her any more than she's hurting right now, and it'll finally be over. One quick jab, and then she can start to heal herself. Promise me you'll think about it, Heero. It's only fair."

           Slowly, Heero opened his eyes, stared at the ground, and nodded once. Quatre released him, and he stepped carefully to the door, as the gardener watched twice as carefully. Just in front of the door, Heero paused, half-turned, scratched the fabric of his coat above the knee, and from out of nowhere, Shadow leapt onto the coat and climbed swiftly up to sit on his shoulder. Quatre raised an eyebrow at how well the little cat seemed to be trained at only four months of age; once Heero was gone, he extinguished the lantern and poured out the rest of the liquor onto the floor, all the while asking himself if he'd done the right thing.

**********

           Giorgenson, Sally, Duo and Winifred covered miles and miles of back roads in unofficial record time, all without suffering any grievous symptoms of 'speed poisoning.' At worst, the two newcomers were beginning to experience speed intoxication. The place they were headed for, as the driver explained, was Oxford. A horse-drawn carriage would have taken too long, and there was no direct train route that didn't make a sharp detour through London, so the modified automobile was the logical choice to get them there and back in plenty of time for the hunt ball. Either that, or the old man just wanted to show off his new gizmo.

           They found that the faster they travelled, the smoother the ride became, so there wasn't even any motion sickness to contend with. Winifred's hand-painted speedometer was showing just over 40 miles per hour as their average speed, but the numbers on the dial went all the way up to 75, a velocity that only existed in the realm of science fiction magazines, leaving plenty of room for Giorgenson to make further 'improvements.'

           After a journey of less than two hours of running flat out in Winifred, her driver flipped the switch to return control to the primary engine, the little putt-putt motor that originally came with the car. "We're getting close to the city limits, and I'd rather not flash my invention all over town, if you get my drift." They all but coasted into town at what seemed like a snail's pace, and Giorgenson drove them down all sorts of charming streets full of unrivalled architecture and pretty parklands as the city of Oxford welcomed them with open arms.

           It was just before nine o'clock in the morning and there was plenty of action around town, people going to and fro on their daily business, and especially horses and children looking quizzically at their vehicle. Duo and Sally were having a lovely time being chauffeured around on a sightseeing tour of a place they'd never seen, and Giorgenson took delight in pointing out all the local landmarks and points of interest. Eventually they turned down the final street and wove through a series of very grand buildings made of the oldest stones either of the visitors had ever seen. They stood proud as castles amongst the ancient trees, with tall spires and gothic archways on every surface. On every pathway and in every antique window, bringing life to the eight hundred year old landscape, were boys in blazers, walking alone or in pairs, talking in groups and reading from thick books on wooden benches. The sign they passed, edged in newly-planted hedges and dark green shrubbery, read 'Oxford University.'

           Having since removed the speed harness along with the others, Duo leaned forward and cooed with amazement. "You really are a professor, aren't you?"

           "Of literature and classical studies," Giorgenson confirmed, "thought I haven't taught for almost two years. Been thinking about going back to it, and they've kept my office nice and dust-free while I'm making up my mind. If you can successfully deprogram Heero, I'd gladly recommend you both for scholarships, when you're old enough. Anything to keep you out of Cambridge..."

           Sally laughed and Duo smirked. Winifred offered no opinion on the old school rivalry, but simply took them slowly up to one of the massive stone structures and stopped in a lane not designated for any vehicles at all, horseless or otherwise. Another old man, with thick white sideburns and a monocle, probably another professor, scowled at Giorgenson for bringing the motorized eyesore onto campus property. It didn't faze Giorgenson one bit as he hopped out of the car and lit his pipe. "Morning, Aloysius," he sang. The other professor turned away in a huff.

           "Not very popular with the faculty?" Sally asked as diplomatically as she could.

           "Nah, they just treat me the same as the kids because I act like one. Frequently much worse. Thank goodness the students love me to bits, or I'd have nobody to complain about grown-ups to. C'mon, my office is this way..."

           They went into the nearest building and right away, the affinity Giorgenson had with the younger generation was clear. Every twelve steps, some youngster, often a lad in a crested blazer, or occasionally a girl in a cream-coloured dress, greeted the professor cheerily as he led his guests up several flights of stairs to his office. On the glass panel of his door, instead of the typical name in pale white letters that one would expect, there were the words 'Eschew Obfuscation!' Both Sally and Duo squinted at the door in confusion, unable to decipher the riddle.

           His office was nothing short of palatial, with rich dark wood everywhere, and a real Persian rug. One wall was entirely bookcase, packed full of leather-bound volumes, all the colours of the rainbow. The centrepiece was a highly-polished desk with many secret compartments that Giorgenson intended to keep to himself, hovered over by a small electric chandelier with frosted glass lilies covering the bulbs. To the left was an ordinary-looking wooden door.

           "Please excuse the tidiness, but as I said, I haven't been teaching for awhile." The Professor set up two chairs in front of his desk and sat down behind it in a brown leather tilt 'n swivel. Duo and Sally sat down opposite him. After a moment's consideration of the scene, Giorgenson got up, walked around the desk, took Duo by the arm, put him in the brown leather tilt 'n swivel, and took the chair next to Sally for himself, grinning like a gremlin at her. Sally smiled back and blushed.

           "Now then!" the Professor said finally, looking squarely at Duo. "How are we going to get you into that house?"

           Duo blinked and took off his cap, dropping it on the desk. "I thought you already had an idea. You told me days ago that you had an idea, that's why we're here!"

           "Right, right, and what else did I tell you? What did I say about hiding things?"

           The boy thought for a bit, trying to piece together his memory of the deluge of information he had received that day. "You said that the best place to hide something is with a lot of other things that look just like it."

           "Well done. Now, let's gather our facts up into one big basket and have a good long look at them. Fact number one: You want to pry Heero away from his present assignment. To do this you need to get inside that fancy house."

           "Fact number two," Duo continued, "if Relena, Treize, or anyone else like them spots me, I'm as good as barbequed."

           "Which leads to fact number three, not only must you be there, but you must not be seen." Giorgenson leaned back and puffed away at his pipe languidly. "Tonight's ball would be the best time to act because the Peacecraft estate will be chock full of elite partygoers. With so many high-ranking civilians hanging around, Jeffrhyss will be hesitant to make a violent fuss over you taking his best agent off-site. Lots of witnesses is a good thing."

           Sally scratched the back of her neck, as she often did when she was in deep thought. She'd been filled in on the basics of the relationship between Heero and his master on the way to Oxford, but she didn't tell either of them what she had already known for months. Now she had the name of the man responsible for the hundreds of whip marks on Heero's back, and she was that much closer to holding him accountable for it, but the way Duo looked when that name was mentioned suggested an even greater danger. It called for discretion. "If there are these...agents...milling around at the ball, could we pick them out of the crowd? Maybe if we can distract them, they won't notice what we're trying to do."

           "A good idea, but unfortunately it's the opposite of what we want," Giorgenson explained. "We need it to be reported to Jeffrhyss that Heero left of his own volition. If Duo koshed him on the head with a candlestick and dragged him off in a potato sack, he'd be marked for death."

           Duo swallowed.

           "I'm not half as worried about Jeffrhyss as I am about her Ladyship because, long-term, she's the key to the whole mission. Heero needs to make some excuse to her and disappear, and you, m'boy, need very badly not to be seen or she may not believe any excuse he cooks up."

           "How do I avoid being seen in a house full of people?"

           "Follow me." With a wink and a smirk, Giorgenson launched himself out of his chair and went to the solid wood door to their left. It led to a sitting room with a massive wardrobe with ornately-carved doors on one side and a wall of windows on the other. In one corner was a large Chinese screen.

           "My own strategy for not being seen is to hide in plain view," the professor said, unlocking the first panel door of the wardrobe. Inside was a long row of brilliantly-coloured garments hanging on a rail. "This is my own collection of costumes that I use when my English students put on a play. Most of these won't do a good job of hiding you in a room full of aristocrats, men in hunting gear and tuxedos, girls in pretty dresses...but somewhere in here...I know I had one about the right size...should go nicely with your eyes, too, if I may say so..."

           While the Professor rummaged, Duo wondered what he could be disguised as so that Relena wouldn't recognize him. A waiter? A busboy? One of the stable lads tending the horses? He'd almost certainly have to hide his hair...

           "Ah ha!" the old man finally shouted, digging a hanger out of the pack. "At this evening's ball, you shall dance the night away, lavishly adorned in this!" With a dramatic flourish, he whirled around and whipped out the garment for which Duo was presumably destined.

           Duo gurgled, then yelped in terror. "No, no, a thousand times, NO!!" And then he tried to jump out the window.

           Sally dashed after him and grabbed him by the waist as he was halfway out the window. They struggled. "You fool, we're on the fourth floor!"

           "I don't care! Maybe if I break my leg in the fall, I won't be able to dance!"

           "Don't be a baby! It's only for one night!"

           "I can't! I can't! I'm allergic to taffeta!"

           Giorgenson clucked his tongue at the pair of them. "There's no taffeta in this, that puffiness is just from the crinoline. Take some of the netting out, and you'll be fine."

           Over by the window, Sally won the brief battle and dragged Duo back to accept his fate. "I seem to remember you saying you'd do anything to help Heero." She leaned in close and tried very, very hard not to laugh. "You weren't...lying...were you?"

           Duo sighed, then whimpered, then looked the garment over from top to bottom. He couldn't abandon his friend, and it all depended on not being seen for what he was, but..... "Maybe...maybe if nobody's supposed to recognize me anyway...it might not be that humiliating."

           "That's the spirit!" the Professor cheered. "Now, take this behind that screen and see how it fits."

           A drum roll sounded inside Duo's head, slow and solemn, such as was given to a man being led to his execution. He reached out a trembling hand and clutched the wooden hanger from which the garment dangled like a gigantic party streamer. It was light. It was purple. It was silk and lace and it had teeny tiny flowers all over it. ...for cryin' out loud...

**********

           The Peacecraft estate was simply teeming with extra help brought in by the hunt society. Every acre was checked and double checked for general soundness, and Relena's stables, mostly empty though they once were, had been taken over by their hounds and horses. Her Ladyship and the regular staff hardly had to lift a finger since every single person necessary for holding a successful hunt had been imported from the traditional grounds. All Relena had to do was be a gracious hostess and provide all the food, though she didn't honestly trust Elsie to the task and had to hire a professional catering firm.

           The event was blessed with exceptionally fine weather, and Relena stood on the balcony just over the front door to watch tents being pitched, chairs and tables being set up, and refreshments being laid out for the hunt widows to enjoy while their chaps were off chasing the fox. While she surveyed the work being done, Quatre came quietly up beside her. "I've had a word..."

           "Thank you," she said, just as softly. Not for lack of trying, she just couldn't get herself into the spirit for the day, and it was already turning out to be a great disappointment. "Sooner or later I'll have to wonder if everyone else was right about Heero," she sighed. "Otto's never liked him...Dorothy thinks I've lost my mind just because he's a servant...Lady Une and all her friends are laughing at me...about the only one who thinks we'd be right for each other is Uncle Treize. He's even offered us a luxury honeymoon anywhere in the world."

           Quatre said nothing, preferring to lean against the filigree railing and peer down at the horses, being tended to by men in white riding trousers, red jackets, tall black boots and funny little round caps. He wondered why Trowa wasn't down there helping the grooms and huntsmen, since he liked horses so much.

           "Be honest with me, Quatre," the girl beside him begged, "do you think I'm making a fool of myself? What do you really think of Heero?"

           A difficult thing to answer. What he thought of Heero was irrelevant; the boy simply wasn't interested in her. "He's nice enough," Quatre lied.

           Relena shook her head slowly, staring at the commotion below with tired eyes. "No...he isn't nice at all. Not anymore. If he doesn't change my mind about that soon.....I don't know what I'll do."

           Quatre ground his teeth in anguish. Being so close to a friend in pain wasn't doing him any good, but he couldn't turn away, nor could he bring an end to her last hopes by telling her what he knew...or rather, felt, about Heero. There was definitely someone else, and for a freakishly terrifying moment, he wondered if it had anything to do with the strange feelings he had once sensed coming from Duo. He quickly pushed that idea out of his mind; it didn't bear thinking about just then. "Why don't we both go down there and try some of those sandwiches? They look delicious!"

           Relena sighed again. "I suppose I should put in an appearance, what with being the hostess and all." She turned and walked very unspiritedly downstairs to greet her guests, the majority of whom she had never met before. Quatre followed her and never left her side, but continued to wonder where Trowa was.

           Trowa knew exactly where he was, thankfully; he was in the stables, hunched over the wooden half-wall that was currently penning in a large cluster of dogs. The pack of hounds and terriers was being temporarily kennelled there in one of the larger horse stalls, and Trowa had paid them a visit with only a scant few minutes remaining until the start of the hunt. He leaned on the wooden railing and stared intensely down at the canines, concentrating hard and muttering under his breath.

           "Giving them a pep talk before they go after the fox?" a gentleman's voice said behind him.

           "No...trying to talk them out of it..." It failed to register for several seconds that there was someone in the stable with him, and he spun around, turning red about the ears and preparing to make a lighthearted joke out of what he'd just said.

           The intruder was a tall, auburn-haired man in a white suit, the same white suit he'd worn the day of his arrival at Bridlewood. "I need you to do something for me, boy," Count Khushrenada boomed.

           Trowa swallowed. "Yes, sir."

           "Find me the fastest horse in this stable. A jumper, if you have one. I'll need to borrow it for awhile...and this is strictly entre nous, understand? Tell no one."

           As soon as he said those last three words, Trowa knew he had to tell someone, and Heero was at the top of the list. Obediently, he showed Treize to a stall far at the back in which resided a massive black stallion with wild eyes and powerful legs. "I've seen this one clear a five-foot fence with inches to spare, and he's fast too." He'll also make you easy to spot in the brush. That white suit isn't the best camoflage I've ever seen.

           "Fine, fine, set him up," the Count said, and Trowa went to fetch a saddle and other accessories. He was partially hidden from the man's view by a wooden partition, but nervous curiosity drove him to peek between the slats and spy on him, though only just a little. All he saw was the Count's large, commanding hands loading silver bullets into a pearl-handled revolver. That was more than enough. Trowa readied the stallion as quickly as he could, never once looking in the Count's direction until his request had been filled.

           "Joining the hunt, sir?" he asked politely, handing over the reins and opening the gate.

           "I was rather thinking of starting my own." Treize led the gruff beast out of its stall and swung himself expertly onto its back. The horse snorted and sniffed as it recognized its rider as a man of true and terrible power. Treize looked down at Trowa and raised a finger to his lips. "Remember..." he sang, smiling.

           Trowa nodded stiffly after getting another fearful glance at the revolver under the man's coat. The Count urged his mount forward and they galloped out of the stable and into the field. Trowa ran to the barn door and watched them leave for only a moment before turning and heading for the house at full sprint.

           Just then, Treize looked over his shoulder, saw the boy running away, and smiled evilly. Today's youth are so predictable...they always do the opposite of whatever you tell them. How fortunate.

**********

           Sally tried not to laugh, she really did, but it was too much. When Duo came out from behind the screen wearing that...thing...she excused herself and ran for the nearest door with a hand over her mouth and her sides sore from shaking. She ended up in an accessory closet, full of scarves, shoes, hats, ties, jewelry, and other assorted props, and it had just enough bare floor for her to collapse from delicately muffled hysterical laughter.

           She could hear the Professor trying to coach Duo on how to walk in the matching satin shoes, with only marginal success. When she was too tired to laugh anymore, she pulled herself to her feet and browsed around the closet, stalling for time out of fear that she'd start laughing again if she went back into the sitting room.

           It was pretty luxurious, for a closet. It had electric lights and a window with a view, and was filled to the ceiling with glamorous artifacts destined for the stage someday. Sally was just killing time when she noticed something pleasantly familiar--a pair of giant fans made of ostrich feathers dyed a dramatic hot pink. With a bashful smile of nostalgia, she picked up the fans, found a full-length mirror in the corner, and modelled them, for old times' sake, holding them close to her svelte form and practising her 'come hither' look. Yep...still got it.

           Sally was three-quarters of the way down memory lane when the door behind her flew open. Startled by the noise, not to mention being caught with her head in the clouds, she dropped the feather fans and spun around, instinctively shocked to find a man having a peek inside her dressing room.

           "We're having a major corset emergency out here, if you could spare a minute," the Professor whispered.

           "No way! Just forget the whole thing!" a disembodied boy's voice yelled from the sitting room. "I can't breathe in this thing! It's too tight!"

           Giorgenson leaned his head against the doorframe and sighed. "It's supposed to be too tight!" He shook his head sadly. "The boy knows nothing."

           Sally fought off another ferocious wave of giggles. "Sounds like he needs a woman's help after all."

           She spent the next hour teaching Duo how to walk, move, and conduct himself in general all over again, with accompanying lectures from Giorgenson on stage presence and 'becoming' the character one wished to portray. He was put through entirely new paces and seemed confident in his ability to make his disguise somewhat believable, but when they brought out the full-length mirror, he couldn't bear to look at himself. He just stood there with his eyes closed while his teachers looked for details to change that could make him more convincing.

           "The shoes are still a problem," Giorgenson observed.

           "But he's got great balance," Sally replied. "He looks a bit...featureless in certain places."

           "We can get some cotton wool from the nurse's office. What about the hair?"

           "I'll brush it out and put it in a nice clip, maybe something with matching flowers on it...but he's still very pale."

           "I'm friends with the head librarian. She'll let me borrow her rouge if I promise not to tell her what it's for. Does he know how to dance without leading?"

           "Oh, I could teach him that in half an hour, no problem...but what about his throat?"

           "There's a black velvet choker in the closet, that'd do...but, ye gods, what about the voice?"

           The toughest question yet. Duo could look the part, and act the part, but he drew the line at wearing any kind of medieval, restrictive underwear so he could sound the part. He shut his eyes even tighter, just before Sally came up with the best suggestion of the afternoon. "We could say he's deaf! That would excuse him from saying anything unless he was alone with Heero, and the rest of the time, he can just smile and nod!"

           A grin of abject lunacy spread across Giorgenson's face. "Simply brilliant, my dear! We'll take him to the linguistics department, get him a quick sign language lesson to top it off...that's absolutely perfect! We'll call him.....Shy Violet."

           The Professor scrambled off to find the velvet choker, while Sally set about untying Duo's hair. She saw the pained lines around his clenched eyelids and patted him on the shoulder. "You look nice. You really do. Just keep reminding yourself who it's for. From what I've heard so far, no one escapes without help, and Heero's going to need all you can give him. Now come on and open your eyes, you really don't look that bad."

           "You said I looked nice."

           Sally rolled her eyes and fluffed up his bangs. "Just look."

           Duo opened one eye, then the other. So far, his face was the same. He forced himself to look at his reflection below the neck, and there the similarities came to a screeching halt. His eyes snapped shut again. "I shouldn't have looked."

           "Honestly, the fuss you're making! You'd think we were asking you to throw yourself off a cliff or something! Everything's going to be fine if we all just stick to the plan, so keep your chin up. And smile!" She drew a stiff brush through his hair in long strokes, separating the strands into one large wave of chestnut, grinning to herself. "You know...I've always wanted a little sister!"

           "Oh God..." Duo shook his head at the gaudy caricature and felt some belated motion sickness kicking in as Sally experimented on his hair with ribbons and barrettes. "Greater love hath no boy for his Heero than to prance around dressed like a raspberry fondant," he whispered. "He'd better appreciate this or I'll sock him one."

           Sally stifled another giggle.

**********

           Relena did a pretty good job of mingling with the guests, even though she didn't feel like it. Quatre didn't mean to mingle alongside her, defying his lowly and menial position, but he was dressed so neatly and stayed so close to her that he was constantly being asked if they were brother and sister, so conversations were inevitable. Both of the fair-haired teens were deeply entrenched in cordial exchanges when someone in a plain dark suit stepped out the front door, squinting in the bright sunlight. They both saw that it was Heero, and they both debated jogging over to talk to him, though about very different subjects.

           He must have taken a nap like I suggested after our last encounter, Quatre thought, noting the way Heero rubbed his eyes and seemed to be in a slight daze. He could feel Relena straying from her current conversation, wanting to dash over to him and show the world that they were still a couple, but she didn't get the chance. Trowa bolted across the lawn at that very moment and caught Heero by the arm, talking to him in low, tense tones and eliminating anyone's chance of speaking to either of them. After trading a few words, they both ran off in the direction of the stables, and then they were gone.

           Quatre felt Relena's heart sink a little as she watched him go, but there was no time left to feel sorry for herself. A bugle sounded, and a large team of huntsmen on horseback cantered onto the scene. The whippers-in herded the hounds over to the field master, who observed them carefully for signs that they had picked up the scent. The hunt was about to begin.

           Over at the stables, Trowa was finishing up the recounting of what he had seen to Heero, who took it all in with his usual mechanical expression. "...and he was armed. It looked like a .44, with six rounds and a pearl handle. He told me not to tell anyone, but he was obviously up to something, and given his track record with sneaking around and causing unseen havoc..."

           "You did the right thing," Heero said, looking over the remaining horses. "I suppose this is the only way to catch him?"

           Trowa nodded, walking to one of the last occupied stalls. "He asked for the fastest horse available, but I gave him the best jumper instead. This is the fastest." He stopped in front of a dappled brown and cream quarter horse with patches of tiny black speckles here and there, and a mane and tail of a lovely golden tan colour. It looked just barely old enough to be ridden at all, but seemed like it would have no difficulty at all in supporting Heero's small frame. "His name's Pepper. You can take him out to find out what Treize is up to, just try to have him back before the hunt's over, or someone might notice he's missing."

           As Trowa saddled up Pepper for his first espionage assignment, they heard the bugle call again, and barking, and clomping hoofbeats as the hunt charged forward. Trowa cringed. He had really tried hard to find all the foxes on the estate and warn them of the impending danger, but his nose wasn't as good as the hounds', and so the hounds seemed to have located one first.

           Trowa opened the gate to the stall and led Pepper out for Heero's perusal. Not wanting to look like a fool for asking, Heero burned up ten seconds of staring time trying to calculate the best way to get on top of the beast before doing so, at which time he had a new problem. Sadly, he couldn't figure it out for himself, so he had to ask. "How do you start it?"

           Trowa blinked. "You've never ridden before, have you?"

           "Should I have? It never looked that difficult..." Heero snapped the reins, dug in his heels, and snapped the reins again, but Pepper wasn't going anywhere. Trowa chose his next words very carefully.

           "...look...maybe I should go after Treize and report back to you on what I see." It would certainly be faster than riding lessons...

           "I don't think you're adequately equipped to deal with his trickery," Heero said, pulling back the edge of his jacket just enough to reveal his own gun in its shoulder holster. "If he thinks we might have caught on to Lord Peacecraft's murder, he may be trying to make his escape while the household is otherwise occupied. I need to catch him now."

           "Alright," Trowa said, thinking. He walked up to Pepper and laid a hand on either side of his elongated head, looking deeply into his dark brown eyes. He attempted to plant the suggestion that Pepper should listen very carefully to Heero, with his heart instead of his ears, and take the boy wherever he wanted to go. A minute later, Trowa released Pepper and stepped out of the way. "Just think hard about which direction you want to take, and how fast, and tell him so. He'll try to understand."

           Heero raised an eyebrow, then leaned over the horse's ear, pointing to the stable door. "Pepper? That way."

           Miraculously, the horse obeyed. Trowa's fingers were tightly crossed, and Heero threw a raised-eyebrow expression over his shoulder as Pepper clip-clopped out of the stable. It took Heero a few minutes to convince the horse that steering was necessary, but finally guided it in the direction that Treize had most likely taken, which was directly away from the commotion of the hunt.

           The first portion of their journey was far from smooth, with jerky turns, sudden stops, and odd changes in speed, but after awhile, Pepper seemed to figure out that his rider didn't have a clue what he was doing, and became a little forgiving. After that, Heero found he was developing a strange symbiosis with the horse. He could point it in a different direction by leaning left or right, and could control their velocity by leaning forward or backward. They'd only known each other ten minutes, and it was already turning into a highly productive partnership.

           There was still the problem of finding Treize, however. They were a good half hour into uncharted forest and there was still no sigh of him and his giant black stallion. Not only that, but Pepper had been turned around so many times that Heero was beginning to think they were lost. There was something attractive about that, being lost in the woods with no way home...he was a bit too old to be raised by wolves, but there might still have been plenty of fun to be had. It was just a question of staying lost. Heero could do that, he knew he could.

           A shot rang out and splintered the bark of a large oak tree a few inches from Heero's head. Pepper reared up a few inches and whinnied, and Heero had no option but to turn and acknowledge that Treize had caught him instead of the other way around. Behind him, the Count was seated atop his jet black steed with a pearl-handled revolver in one hand.

           Heero sighed in disappointment. Kisama...now I have to go back. That's it. Now it's personal. He drew his own weapon and nudged Pepper forward.

           "Beautiful day for a hunt, isn't it?" Treize cooed.

           Pepper approached the other horse and rider, but only to a point with about fifteen yards between them. He stopped and protested, stomping his front hooves and shaking his head, sending his sandy mane flying in all directions. Apparently, he didn't like the Count's aura.

           "About time you decided to kill me properly," Heero said confidently. "Any half-decent strategist would have figured out how to do away with me months ago."

           "Tempting, but unlikely," Treize answered. "I've decided that you have some sort of invisible steel shroud around you, and I'd just as soon not waste the bullets. Instead, I'll just ask you a few questions and let your horse hope that you have the right answers...or do you have enough invisible steel for him as well?" He gestured loosely at Pepper with his gun, and Heero tightened his grip on the reins in fury. This was unforgivable. "First question...what did you do with the gold?"

           Heero didn't have to fake a blank and clueless expression, it just came naturally. If he meant the gold in the bank in Switzerland, he hadn't done anything to it, he'd just sent a slow-witted spy to look at it. "Nothing."

           "One more lie like that, and I just might reconsider my bullet-wasting policy! I know where the gold was supposed to be, but it's disappeared! Where have you hidden it!?" Treize, of course, was speaking of the gold stowed away within the walls of Bridlewood, leaving Heero at a distinct disadvantage, for only Duo, Wufei, and Arthur knew of its existence.

           Heero squinted at the Count's claim that the unmarked gold bars had vanished from a high-security safety deposit closet. Could it have been stolen without the authorities noticing? Impossible...unless it was an inside job. Marcus did mention that Treize was bribing half of the board of directors at that particular bank, perhaps the other half wanted a cut too. "Before you automatically blame me," Heero dared him, "maybe you should take a closer look at your accomplices. I never thought I'd say this about you, but you're far too trusting for your own good."

           Treize recoiled slightly in his saddle. Accomplices? Dorothy? How could she have gotten inside the walls and dug out the gold when she wouldn't even pick a dropped object up off the floor for fear of breaking a nail? Poppycock. "If you have any disparaging remarks about my associates, kindly keep them to yourself," the Count snarled. "Now, what should I do with you? I'm not entirely convinced that anything you say is the truth, which leaves me in a bit of a quandary."

           Heero glared. "Tough."

           Treize smiled. "But being of a generally forgiving nature, I'm prepared to make you a deal. By now, my men have vacated the pertinent area. If the gold should suddenly turn up mysteriously within the next few days, I won't say a word about it."

           "And if it doesn't?"

           Treize holstered his gun and raised one of his forked eyebrows. "Killing you probably wouldn't do me any good, but not to worry. I've found that there are many other ways of hurting you without drawing blood." He tugged the reins and brought his horse to attention, but paused. "Didn't I see your cat running around loose this morning? You really should keep it locked up if you don't want anything to happen to it...can't be too safe out here today with all these dogs running around..." Taking extreme joy in the involuntary look of fear that crossed Heero's face, he gave a command to his stallion and galloped away, jumping a fallen tree and giving Heero the slip in a heartbeat.

           Heero prayed that he was bluffing, but he hadn't seen Shadow since before he laid down for his nap. If the foxhounds had hurt her in their maniacal lust for blood because of his carelessness, he'd never forgive himself.

           He raced back to the house with Pepper and searched all of the cat's usual hiding places, calling her name, for she always came when he called, but she wasn't there. Dreading the thought that Treize might actually have unlocked several doors and shooed her outside into harm's way, he skipped luncheon with Relena and the socialites, the one he promised her he'd attend, and went looking for the animal on horseback. He and Pepper scoured the grounds in a zigzag pattern and were twice admonished by the whippers-in for getting in the way of the hunt. They couldn't find Shadow anywhere.

           Heero's life had just defied the odds by getting even more unbearable than it already was.

**********

~*~ Act Two ~*~

Evening fell, and the day's focus shifted from outdoors to indoors as the hunt ball got underway. The hunstmen, many still clad in their sporting attire, marched into the ballroom in a military fashion, scrounging up what was left of their dignity after losing the fox and coming back empty-handed. Relena, as the hostess, entered the ballroom at the front of the line on the arm of the master of the hunt, a Mr. Berwick with thinning hair and a gold tooth. After the hunt participants came the regular guests, and the massive ballroom filled up quickly.

The round tables and chairs had been brought inside after the hunt and spread around the perimeter of the glittering ballroom, and a whole new series of drinks, desserts, and tableware assembled. The caterers brought out a buffet-style dinner in one end of the room, and a string orchestra began to play cheerful dance tunes in the other. Soon the place was packed with partygoers in fancy gowns and tuxedos, and once Relena had seen to their comfort, she could at last see to her own, if she was able to find it.

Once the party was in full swing, she looked around for Heero and just happened to spot him entering the ballroom from one of the glass doors that led outside to the patio. He looked his usual depressing self, but at least had remembered to change into his dress uniform, the one he wore to the opera. Knowing his duty, he ambled over to the head table and sat down on her left, the opposite side from Mr. Berwick, who sat on her right.

"You took your time," she said, concentrating more on her plate of food.

"I was looking for something," Heero replied honestly. Shadow still hadn't turned up, and he was getting an ugly gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. A miscellaneous servant brought him an identical plate of food to Relena's from the buffet table, but he turned it down.

Relena waited until Mr. Berwick was genially engaged in a conversation with the lady on his right, the wife of Councillor Sombody-or-other, before putting her fork down and addressing the problem sitting next to her. "You don't intend to dance tonight either, do you? You don't intend to do anything but sit there and look miserable, I can tell."

They both stared straight ahead at the far edge of the table. Heero stared at his empty wineglass next, a cut crystal goblet with no redeeming liquid features to hold his interest. "And you know what I'm like at social occasions. If you've gone out of your way for this long to accept me with all my many faults, why stop now?"

Relena went 'Hmph!', angrily taken aback by his flippant tone. "Tonight's just going to be a barrel of laughs, isn't it?" She hastily picked up her waterglass, sloshing a bit over the side and looking away as she took a sip. When she put the goblet down, her free hand played lightly over the sparkling engagement ring on her finger. She twirled it around in a pocket of total silence that only extended as far as the chair Heero was sitting in. "I think I'll go greet some latecomers." She got up and walked away without any glance in Heero's direction. Her lack of enthusiasm was returned in kind.

Relena ran to the comfortably familiar, the only thing she knew she could do exceptionally well, and that was hostessing. There were a few guests trickling in who couldn't make it to the hunt, or just wanted to soak up the booze while there was still some left. Each guest was a surprise because the bulk of the guest list was provided by the hunt society, but she was doubly surprised by the fourth guest she greeted after escaping the head table.

"Doctor Poole! How lovely to see you! I didn't know you were coming! I love your dress! How are you?"

Sally smiled and laughed at the barrage, not knowing that it was Relena's way of alleviating her loneliness. "It's nice to see you too, m'lady."

Relena and the Doctor clasped hands and curtsied to each other. "Do help yourself to nibbles and wine, and hopefully I'll see you again before the night's over!"

"Thank you very much indeed," Sally said, sweeping past her Ladyship in the emerald green satin gown Professor Giorgenson loaned her from his costume collection. That was the easy part. She went to take up her position while awaiting her cohorts, who weren't far behind.

Relena felt marginally better for getting a few introductions out of the way, but she needed to do more, to distract herself from her many problems. She composed herself just as the next two guests sauntered into the ballroom, and was immediately perplexed by them. There was a tallish gentleman in a flashy kind of admiral's uniform, wearing a red dinner jacket adorned with medals, ribbons, shiny buttons, and gold braid epaulets. He had thick grey hair slicked back against his head and a highly waxed moustache that turned upwards into a little point at each end. His small round spectacles hid his eyes from time to time, depending on which way he turned his head. Relena was certain that she hadn't seen anyone like him in the whole of her life.

"Er...good evening, mister..."

"Admeeral Sunderfoteneskilinghultsvad!" the man bellowed with a regal air.

Relena paled. ".....thank you," she said, not knowing what else to say. "Um...lovely to see you."

"Yes, hellu, I coome frum Sveden," the admiral said, "und thees is mee-a niece, Violet Sunderfoteneskilinghultsvad." He pointed to a slight figure to his right, a slender girl in a pale purple dress. She had a fan painted with violets held up to her face and lowered it politely to reveal a charming visage, complete with matching purple eyes. She smiled sweetly.

Relena and Violet curtsied simultaneously, fanning out their gowns around them. "How do you do, Miss Violet?" her Ladyship asked, not ready to chance her luck at the last name.

Violet said nothing, but looked up at her uncle expectantly. "Shees a-deeff, und she dun't talk mooch neezer," the old man said. Relena looked confused until Violet touched a finger to her lips, and then to her ear.

"Oh! You're deaf!" Relena took the girl's hand and patted it sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know!"

"Yoo heff a bee-ootiful Engleesh coontryside, bee-ootiful trees und rucks! Thunk yoo fery mooch!" The Admiral took his niece by the arm and led her away with a smile.

"Um...yes, do enjoy yourself, mist--uh...Admiral..."

"Sunderfoteneskilinghultsvad!"

Relena breathed a sign of relief when they were gone.

The Admiral's niece jerked his arm slightly and whispered in an annoyed boy's voice, "That's the worst Swedish accent I've ever heard! You call this keeping a low profile?"

"Shut up! You're deaf!" the Admiral whispered back.

Violet rolled her eyes and closed her mouth. The pair mingled from group to group, trying to reclaim their anonymity, and wherever they went, the gentlemen fawned over Violet and all agreed what a shame it was that she couldn't speak, and also what a blessing it was that she possessed such startling beauty. When Violet found someone she liked, she signed a greeting to them, and then a short phrase or question, which her uncle translated. She asked if they were enjoying the party, where she might find a glass of champagne, and at one point found an elderly hearing lady who could also sign well, and carried on a brief but enjoyable conversation using only her hands. The Admiral nearly burst wide open with pride.

Suddenly, Violet's gaze wandered over to a dark-haired boy sitting all alone at a table full of people, and looking very sad. She tugged on her uncle's arm. "Hm? What have you seen?" the old man whispered. Violet touched her closed fingers to her lips as if about to kiss them, then sprang her hand wide open with her fingers splayed apart. Next, she drew her index finger in a horizontal line across her chin. Her companion's eyebrows arched. "Oh, Heero! You'd better get over there, then." Violet winked and skipped away.

Over at the head table, Heero's stomach was noisily reminding him of when he last ate. Grudgingly, he gave in and headed for the buffet table, where a long line had already formed. Someone handed him a plate while he waited, and he let his eyes wander around the room as the line inched forward. He was almost within reach of the sausage rolls when something caught his eye that made him forget all about food.

Far across the ballroom, standing around while a gaggle of grown-ups gossiped amongst themselves, was a girl. She looked about Heero's age, with bright, vivid eyes and long brown hair that was pulled back at the sides to trail down her back in luxurious shimmering waves. Her gown was a gossamer cloud of lavender, decorated with tiny embroidered flowers around the neckline and scattered over the skirt. Around her swanlike neck was a black velvet choker with a cameo, and every few moments, she lifted a fluted glass of champagne to her lips. It defied explanation that she was standing alone, for every young gentleman in the place ventured over to ask her to dance, and yet she turned them all down with a smile and a shake of her pretty head. What really froze Heero's blood in his veins, though, was that the girl was smiling at him, a sumptuous, bewitching smile that promised much more, and Heero was shocked to find that he couldn't look away.

The plate slipped out of his hand and shattered into ten thousand pieces on the floor. Heero actually gasped at the noise, and the trance was broken. He and three random servants swooped down to sweep up the bits, but as soon as it looked like they had it under control, he bolted. It wasn't the shame of breaking one of Relena's priceless antique china plates that made him run, but the need to escape the strange girl's gaze. He ducked into the crowd and tried to lose himself in the buzzing throng, eventually locating two people he thought he might be able to hide behind, Dorothy and Otto. Mostly Otto.

"I would've liked a nice new red fox stole to go with this dress tonight, so you can imagine how disappointed I was!" Dorothy was saying as Heero slotted himself into their cone of conversation. "I was talking to one of those young, dishy huntsmen, and he can't understand what happened! There most certainly were foxes in the area recently, the dogs could detect them, but they all disappeared within a day! It'll be the last time they ever hold a hunt on this land, I can bet you."

"Mmm," Otto grunted boredly, wondering how he got stuck talking to the most spoiled of all brats. For once, he was actually relieved to see Heero. "So, where have you been hiding yourself lately? Her Ladyship is rapidly losing patience with you, did you know that? Shameful way to treat one's intended, don't you think?"

Long before that point, Heero had stopped listening and was focusing on scanning every face in the crowd for the face of the girl. He had the eerie feeling that he hadn't gotten rid of her, and an even eerier feeling that he didn't want to get rid of her at all. In that brief flash of eye contact, he was exhilirated beyond anything he'd felt for weeks, but it felt wrong. He also felt two sets of eyes burning holes into his head and waiting for acknowledgement. He looked up. "Hm?"

Otto sighed in a huff. "And that's exactly why she's losing patience, because you don't pay attention to anyone but yourself!"

From far off in the crowd, the girl in the lavender dress reappeared. She was following him. Heero swallowed.

"I couldn't agree more," Dorothy added haughtily. "You should give some thought to what you're throwing away by being so distant and crabby all the time. There aren't many gentlemen as lucky as you are, marrying into the aristocracy straight from the working class. Of course, if I had my way, I'd do away with all the non-traditi--"

"Yes, excuse me," Heero blurted out as he darted away a second time, leaving the befuddled pair to scoff at his rudeness. He took an alternate route away from the windows and closer to the orchestra, hoping to find some large instrument like a grand piano or a string bass to hide behind. There was little left to choose from, and he looked all around for another form of escape. Just as his eyes flew from the buffet table to the far doors leading out into the hall, he caught sight of the smiling elven face once again, and his heart raced without explanation. He was dizzy and flushed, and briefly wondered if that was what malaria felt like. The only thing he was certain of was that he needed a drink, so he fled the ballroom through the near set of doors for the preferable solitude of the main lounge.

He left the door ajar and made a beeline to the liquor cabinet, on which sat an assortment of glasses and bottles beckoning to him. No sooner had he pulled the stopper out of a crystal decanter than the door shut quietly behind him, and was locked. He put the decanter down and slowly reached for his gun.

"Heero-sensei...konbanwa..."

The grandfather clock in the corner ticked away for an eternity while Heero turned around. Leaning against the door, holding a flowered fan over the lower half of her face, was the girl in the lavender dress. Heero gaped. ...but...that voice! It's impossible!

The fan was lowered, revealing an impish grin.

Finally, Heero's eyes shone with true life. "Duo!" he breathed. They were paralyzed on the spot, each hearing nothing but his own pulse pounding in his ears before rushing to embrace each other. They collided in the centre of the lounge in a bear hug that had been far too long in coming. Duo scrunched his eyes shut to keep from crying while he tightened the iron grip around his friend's shoulders; Heero shook faintly as he exhaled into Duo's hair, then buried his nose in the crook of his neck. They stayed in that position until their arms ached from holding each other so tight, and slowly, painfully, pulled apart.

Duo gasped for air and smiled. "So! Honest opinion," he said, twirling around once, "how do I look?"

Heero looked over every detail of Duo's new image. "Words...escape me."

"Probably for the best," Duo said. "Tell me quick, are you doing alright? I got so worried when I didn't hear from you!"

Heero nodded dejectedly. "She's been intercepting my mail, and pretty much destroyed the telephone, but I don't want you to worry about it, because...I'm actually starting to feel better now."

Duo hugged him again quickly for good measure. "I missed you so much! I missed all of you guys, but you most of all!" He grabbed Heero's hands and bounced around in a circle, making Heero twirl around with him. "I've got so much to tell you! I don't know where to start!"

"Start anywhere! Say anything! Just..." Heero paused, struggling for words. "I've missed your voice, and all the inane chatter that came with it."

"Okayokayokay!" Duo jumped again excitedly and pulled out the first memorable event that came to mind. "Gold, Heero! We struck gold! All those gaps in the walls had gold bars in them, right under the floorboards! We took them out back and buried them in Arthur's vegetable garden!"

Another wave of shock struck Heero between the eyes. "That's what he meant..." When Duo blinked at him in confusion, he elaborated. "Treize came after me just this morning demanding to know where the gold was! I thought he was talking about something else entirely!"

"Ha! He has no idea it was us! And Arthur was right, nobody even bothers to remember that he exists because he's just the carpenter! Man, all this time, the gold's been right under his nose for weeks, and he didn't even thin--"

"Wait a minute," Heero cut in, squinting, "what do you mean by 'we' and 'us'? Who else knows about this gold besides you and Arthur?"

"...ah..." Duo knew that would be a touchy topic, and withdrew a few paces for his own protection. "I couldn't get the gold out of there myself, but I couldn't let Treize get it either. His goons were tearing the house apart, he would've found it eventually! So...I sorta...teamed up with Wufei."

A long pause followed. "You did what!?" Not nearly long enough.

"Now, now, let's not overreact..."

"Duo, he could have very easily killed you! He's threatened violence against both of us time and again, and made it his mission in life to interfere and intimidate us, you especially! He does nothing but get in the way, and he's Lord Jeffrhyss' personal messenger!"

"Actually, that's a little bit backwards," Duo pointed out gently. "We're in his way. He told me this whole story about how Treize killed his girlfriend, and he's just here for revenge! He's not after you personally, you're just the obstacle keeping him from knocking off Treize!"

"And you believed him!?"

Duo slouched and sighed, gazing up at Heero with hurt eyes. He raised his arms hopefully. "Can we go back to the hugging now? That was a lot more fun than this is."

Heero walked up to him and gently pushed his arms back down at his sides, then wondered what to do with his hands next. He finally let them rest on Duo's shoulders while he thought about how unsettling it was seeing his best friend in a dress, paying particular attention to the disturbing lumps under the purple fabric. "Your cotton balls are crooked."

Heero wandered off a few steps while Duo looked down the front of his dress and readjusted his assets. "...'kay, I can see why you might not be able to take me seriously in this getup, but it got me past Queen Lena and her royal guard, so don't knock it." He gave the cotton wool one last shove and set his jaw in Heero's general direction. "I can accept that you don't trust Wufei, but I like to think you trust me, and if I trust him, even a little bit, shouldn't that count for something?"

Reluctantly, Heero nodded. "I suppose if you made it this far without getting maimed, you must have chosen wisely."

"Well, thanks." Duo slapped the closed fan into his palm a few times, summoning up his courage for the more important issue. "That's not the whole reason why I came here, just to tell you that. I came to ask you..." He swallowed and looked up. "I came to bust you outta here."

Heero squinted, at a loss for words.

"I hope you remember what we just established about our mutual trust level, because I met this guy, this...old, weird guy. He knows Lord Jeffrhyss from way back, and he wants to see you liberated as badly as I do. This costume was his idea, so I could sneak in and find you. See, I tried a couple weeks ago, but Relena found me and tossed me out, and I've been staying in a little cottage on the grounds ever since...and I couldn't get near you until today." Heero's eyes enlarged by degrees as he listened to the curious tale. "So...I went to a lot of trouble just to get here and ask you...to come with me. If we stick together, we can take you away from Lord Jeffrhyss and break whatever hold he has on you. We've gotta do it, because you deserve better."

Heero blinked rapidly and ran a hand through his hair. It was a lot to take in at once, but at the same time, it was everything he'd been dreaming of for weeks and weeks. A simple escape...but... "It can't be that simple."

Duo exhaled; he hadn't said 'no' yet. "This guy said I should find you a doctor, so I brought Sally along. I think you know better than I do why you should even need a doctor...you look fine to me..." Actually, Heero didn't look fine at all. He was a little thinner than before, and had faint circles under his eyes. Duo stood quietly off to the side and awaited his answer.

Heero looked from Duo to the liquor cabinet and back again. Something was seriously wrong with him, and he knew it, though he felt somehow that Jeffrhyss' magic potions weren't entirely to blame. "I'd be putting you at great risk."

"This guy says if you leave voluntarily, Jeffrhyss can't touch me."

"...only if he decides to play by the rules..."

"If something goes wrong, this guy says he'll cover for us."

Heero folded his arms sternly. "I'd very much like to meet 'this guy.' I trust you, but for a decision of this magnitude...I'd just like to see him for myself."

Duo smiled, feeling a bit closer to his goal. "Sure. Just...before you decide, and I know it's a big thing," he said, stepping closer, "you need to know that I can't let you go any easier than Jeffrhyss can. I was going to go back to the cottage with or without you, but now that I've seen you, I can't." He dove forward and embraced Heero again, burying his face in the boy's shoulder, his voice wavering. "I don't care where I have to hide or for how long, but I have to stay with you tonight or I'll go crazy. Stuff me in the closet or hide me under the bed if it's the only way we can stay out of trouble, but please don't make me leave. You don't know how awful it's been..."

Heero drew both arms around Duo and stroked his hair. "Yes, I do." They held each other for another few blissful minutes before the rest of the evening's work cried out to be done. They let go, and Heero steeled himself with a slow, deep breath. "Alright, let's go see this new friend of yours."

**********

Relena knew something was wrong when she saw Heero dip back into the ballroom with Violet, the deaf girl, clinging to his arm. She watched them weave through the crowd and stop in front of the girl's uncle, the unpronounceable Swedish admiral. Heero stayed with the taller man while Violet ran back out of the ballroom and down the hall. Something in between jealousy and curiosity made Relena follow.

Violet ducked down this hallway and that, unaware that she was being followed at a distance. Finally, she spotted what she was looking for, a brunette housemaid with nothing to do. Violet snuck up behind the girl and grabbed her by the arms. The maid yelped and jumped around, then clapped both hands over her mouth, while Violet held a finger up to her own. Fortunately for them, Relena was too far away to make out what they were saying.

"Oh...my...God," Hilde gasped after getting an eyeful of something nature didn't intend.

"I missed you, kiddo!" Duo whispered with glee. "How's everybody doing? How's the food been lately?"

"Fine, and not so fine. Duo..." Hilde swallowed, scratched her head, walked a complete circle around Duo, and stopped where she had stood. "You know that thing we were discussing about you and your...um...preferences? Don't you think this is taking it a little bit too far?"

Duo stuck his tongue out at her. "It's not permanent, smarty. Listen, I need you to do something for me. Do you know where Heero's room is in this place?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, there's this cottage on the east lawn, pretty far from the house, and what I want you to do is..." Duo hung an arm around Hilde's shoulders and explained her task as they meandered down the halls. Before he'd even finished speaking, Hilde was nodding and grinning in agreement.

**********

Heero stood alone with the stranger in the red military dinner jacket, eyeing him carefully. Any associate of Jeffrhyss was potentially very dangerous, but it felt right to trust Duo's judgement and give the man a chance. They were just behind the drinks table, and the stranger plucked a glass of champagne off of it and held it out to Heero. "You look like you could use this."

The man's voice echoed through Heero's memory and triggered something long forgotten, something less than pleasant, and his weaker self would have taken the sparkling beverage from him straight away, but he hesitated. Since reuniting with Duo, he no longer felt any need for alcohol. "No, thank you."

"Hmm, don't mind if I do..." The stranger tipped the glass back and downed the contents in one gulp. Putting the empty goblet back down, he looked Heero over in a nonthreatening way, he hoped. "Do you know me?"

"I know your voice," Heero said, visibly shaken by that fact. "There have been many voices...yours was one of the less frequent ones."

The stranger nodded. "Duo knows me as Giorgenson, much the way you know your master as Jeffrhyss, but I promise you, I've no designs on your friend. Got out of that business a long time ago, in spirit if not in practice. I'm more interested now in undoing some of the damage Jeffrhyss has done."

Heero tilted his head to the side. "Why?"

Giorgenson shrugged. "Some people say Hail Marys to atone for their sins, others walk around wearing hair shirts and sackcloth...I liberate agents, the ones that really need liberating. The ones that can stand the horrors of freedom." He could see that Heero accepted his answer without fully undertanding it. "I'll tell you both more when you're up to it, but I'd concentrate on getting through your trial of fire first."

"I need to know what you've already told him," Heero said firmly. "I've taken great pains to protect him from all this--"

"And he already knew far more than you intended before he even met me," Giorgenson finished without invitation. "You couldn't have prevented that, not with him. He's just as protective of you, and believe me, I didn't pressure him into any of this." He stopped, thought, then took out his beloved pipe. "Well, the dress took some talking into, but that's it. He was determined from the start to do this...I just gave him guidance, and a little information, enough to quench his immediate thirst."

"If he wants information so badly, fine," Heero conceded, "but I wouldn't have lied to him the way you did. He's worthy of the truth, if he's to have anything at all."

Giorgenson looked quite innocent. "Who lied?"

"Voluntary relocation clause. You told him that if I left my assignment freely, Jeffrhyss wouldn't attack him for assisting me. Be serious! Since when did the rulebook make one bit of difference in his actions?"

"He helped write that rulebook," Giorgenson reminded him, "and he'd follow it again if he had to...if someone forced him to..." Heero continued to glare. "Listen, son, I promised him that you and him and the good doctor would be safe while you were being freed, and you will be. As soon as the three of you are settled, I'll be going right over to see Jeffrhyss and square it with him. No specifics between us, but I have one or two things I'm still holding over his head. He'll listen to me."

"And then what?"

Giorgenson received a nasty look from one of the waiters and extinguished his pipe. "One bite at a time, m'boy. Don't gobble. Concentrate on the now." Too much time passed in which Heero was unable to think of a suitable comeback, and Violet returned after her mysterious absence. She coiled her arm around Heero's and set her chin on his shoulder, smiling fondly. Giorgenson smiled at them both, and especially at the way Violet's eyes lit up when the orchestra broke into a lively gavotte. "I think she'd like a turn around the dance floor, don't you?" Giorgenson suggested, knowing that Heero needed that extra bit of convincing to shove him over the edge.

Violet tugged on his arm, ignoring his protests, and managed to push him into the stream of traffic, after which he was helpless to resist. The pair joined in the dance with dozens of other couples, swirling around the ballroom in a sea of glitter and colour. Normally, Heero loathed participating in such trivial wastes of time, even in the line of duty, but with Duo it was different; the rhythmic movements were not totally alien to his karate training, and it just seemed comfortable, if a little strange. While it may have been the champagne affecting his vision, Giorgenson could have sworn that he saw Heero laugh, just once and very quickly, at something Duo said or did while they glided across the floor. Heero laughing? the Professor thought, raising his eyes and his hands to heaven. There is a God.

Sadly, for the next dance, and her favourite, a waltz at that, one girl in the ballroom was without a partner. Relena was standing against the north wall, with her arms clutched about her and a piercing, hypnotic look on her face as she watched Heero and Violet sway to the strains of the flute and the violin. Her faith in Heero was now hanging by a tenuous thread, and the slightest pull could snap it at any time. Not wanting to see anything that would make her decision for her in a moment of rage, she left the ballroom and went up to her room to run out the clock on a positively hideous evening. No one saw her leave.

Nimbly navigating the ballroom floor in perfect time with the music, Duo looked Heero straight in the eye and asked him the question that made the dress, the flowers, and the goofy hair all worthwhile. "So...are you coming with me or what?"

Heero smiled faintly. "Yes."

**********

Hilde paced in front of the cottage bearing the first of many loads of Heero's belongings. She happily volunteered to transport all his clothes, books, and assorted bits and pieces out of Sutherby Hall and put them in the appropriate room of the cottage Duo had described to her, but it wasn't as simple as it sounded. She couldn't get into the cottage, or rather, didn't want to just yet. She paced and paced, throwing desperate looks in the direction of the house until finally, four figures came into focus and seemed to be walking towards her.

Duo in a dress, Sally in a dress, Heero in a suit, and some kind of circus clown masquerading as military personnel were making the long trek in the dark, talking all the way. The clown seemed to be giving Sally instructions about checking someone's temperature and blood pressure every eight hours until there was a significant change, and Duo had his arm around Heero, telling him everything was going to be fine and not totally believing it yet. As they neared the cottage, Duo saw that Hilde was still standing outside with a bundle of Heero's clothes and looked very puzzled.

"What are you standing out here for? It's not locked, is it?"

"No, it's not locked, and right now, I'd prefer that it was, but we can't have everything we want in life, so just shut up!" All four looked at Hilde like she'd grown a third arm out of her neck just to smack herself upside the head with. "Look, this isn't working. I can't get in there because of some moron's idea of a practical joke!"

Duo looked worried at her obvious distress. "What's wrong? What practical joke?"

"Somebody must have heard me!" Hilde whined. "Some dumb twit must have heard me say that I thought foxes were cute and I'd like one as a pet! Okay, I admit I was being stupid! They're cute, but they've got pointy teeth and claws and they could be rabid for all I know!"

"You wanna get to the point?" Duo said, tiring of her exhibition.

Hilde tightened her arms around the bundle of clothes. "Someone put a bunch of foxes in your cottage! Go look in the window if you don't believe me!"

The other four rushed to the nearest window. There was only a bit of moonlight streaming in from the window in the opposite wall, but it gave them an adequate view of the kitchen, and the mess that was made in it. The six cabbages Duo's landlady had left on the counter for him were reduced to tatters, and bits of unfinished leaves were scattered everywhere, on the floor, and the furniture, and a few unfortunate pieces were sticking to the walls. It was much more difficult to locate any creatures capable or even willing to scarf down a week's worth of vegetables, but Hilde wasn't lying. They spotted a red furry tail with a white tip darting underneath one of the kitchen chairs into a shadow, and that was all the proof they needed.

"See? Told ya. Foxes."

"I heard at the ball that the hunt was a failure because all the foxes went missing!" Sally exclaimed. "Duo, you haven't seriously been keeping--"

"No way! This was not my doing!" They all stood around wondering what to do next. "Well, they can't stay here! Somebody get them out!"

While there was a general argument about who should be the one to risk getting bitten, Heero walked calmly to the front door, opened it, stepped inside, lit the first match that came to hand, and at the sudden intrusion of unwanted light into the safety of their cave, five wild foxes scurried out of the cottage. The others saw them scamper away and disappear to their particular corners of the grounds, sighed with relief, then laughed.

Heero's highly analytical brain needed more information before he could coexist peacefully with what he had just seen, and soon after, he got it. The lit match created a pool of orange light that was the top of the kitchen table, and sitting in the centre of the table, licking her paws and looking quite pleased with herself, was Shadow. Heero's blissful evening was complete, and it showed on his face for once. He transferred the flame to a lantern, set it on the table, and picked Shadow up, cradling her and feeling genuine peace in his heart. "Don't you worry me like that ever again, you hear me?" he whispered.

Shadow meowed, then purred, satisfied that she had done her job well. All she was doing was helping someone escape a fate they didn't deserve, five furry someones who would all sleep soundly and live to see another day.

The others filed in, and Duo's eyes glistened at the sight of his old kitty companion. "Whoa! She's gotten so big! What have you been feeding her?" The two of them didn't talk much more than that, and just took turns rubbing Shadow's tummy and telling her what a good cat she was. Soon, Sally, Hilde, and the Professor took the hint that they'd be best off on their own for awhile. Hilde left the bundle of clothes and went back to the house, and Giorgenson took Sally back to her bed and breakfast, with a promise to the boys that he'd have her and all her equipment back at a totally unreasonable hour the following day. They shut the door behind them, and thoughtfully gave Duo and Heero some time alone to reconnect.

"I don't wanna clean up this mess tonight, do you?"

"Not really, no." Heero picked up a leaf fragment from the table and examined it. "Foxes eat cabbage?"

"I guess if they're hungry enough, and desperate enough, they'll eat anything. They must've been in here all day, poor little guys." Duo went over to the counter and grinned with glee at the discovery that his special surprise under the heavy glass dome had been left untouched. "They didn't get this, though!" He brought the domed plate over to the table, uncovering it, and Heero had to smile at what it contained--a chocolate cake with a file in it.

"Very symbolic," Heero observed.

"Indeedy!" Duo agreed. "You're going to be a free man soon, I'm sure of it."

Without further delay, they grabbed plates and forks, and dove into the cake, eating much more than they probably should have, but it didn't matter, because they were celebrating. Afterwards, it being very late already, they simply sat by the fire all bundled up together in the plaid woolen blanket and talked, longer than they probably should have, but it didn't matter, because they were celebrating. When they were too tired to keep their eyes open, they went to sleep in the same bed, as they so dearly missed doing, and held each other until morning. They got up very, very late, because even in sleep, they were celebrating.


~~~~~~~~~~

Next, in Episode Forty: Heero's road to recovery is anything but smooth, as the old familiar withdrawl symptoms creep in, and there's no twelve-step program in the world that can help him.

=@_@= I...am...zonked. I just spent...damn, I can't count, I'm that tired. A lot of hours on the road, that's all I know. *squeeeee* I love this episode, though. I hope you find it was worth the wait. =^_^= G'nite!