Yes, Dreamwater is having fatal errors again, so we'll just hang out at FFN until the digital weather clears up over there, kay? =^_^=
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 Forty-Four: Flowers of the Desert "When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries of life disappear and life stands explained." ~Mark TwainApril 20th, 1902 Duo couldn't remember being in such a bad mood for a long, long time. Crawling around on the kitchen floor with a meat cleaver would have put anybody in a bad mood, but the chef was consumed with a searing hellfire the likes of which that humble kitchen had never seen. "Come on out, you thieving vermin!" he grumbled as he prowled the stone-tiled floor under the kitchen table. "I know you're here somewhere, and when I find you, you'll be lucky if I don't swing you around by the tails and toss you out the window one by one!" Oblivious to the thick black storm clouds encircling the kitchen, Heero wandered down the stairs with an open book in his hands, poring over the contents and totally ignoring his surroundings except those key components necessary for navigating without tripping over anything. Here were two individuals that had been totally engrossed with their own problems for the last week, so much so that they had no concept of how much they were missing a few rooms away. "You think you're so smart!" Duo snarled at nobody in particular as Heero walked past the table. "Mm-hm," the butler replied dully, walking straight past to the stove. Duo stopped what he was doing and poked his head above the tabletop. "What?" This in turn made Heero pause and look at Duo, puzzled. He shrugged, poured himself a coffee, and went back to his reading. Duo shook his head and ducked back down beneath the table, having no patience for distractions. Before long, Hilde came downstairs with a basket of towels and frowned at the self-absorbed pair. "Oh, look, if it isn't the zombie twins. How long are you two going to ignore the world outside the kitchen and the library? There are important things going on in the rest of the house, you know!" Duo hauled himself to his feet and slapped the meat cleaver on the table, grumbling. "I am trying to figure out where all the food is going around here! Yesterday, I had a big salad sitting out on the counter, I took a quick trip outside to borrow some hothouse tomatoes from Arthur, came back, and the bowl was empty! Day before yesterday, I made a big batch of lamb sausage rolls for dinner, turned my back for ten seconds while I got some rosemary from the pantry, and when I looked again, half of them were gone! And today, today...I spent a whole hour making a chocolate raspberry trifle that I was really looking forward to trying a piece of, went to get the good plates out of the china cabinet, and the whole thing disappeared! We've got mice!" Hilde balanced the basket on one hip and put on her holier-than-thou face. "Duo, that's impossible. It's a question of weight ratios! A two-ounce mouse could not carry a five-pound trifle!" "Maybe not, but if a whole bunch of them got together, they could!" "You're deranged, you know that? There are no mice stealing your food!" Hilde seemed so confident about that statement that Duo narrowed his eyes at her, asking himself why. "How do you know?" Hilde froze, looking the way she always did when she was hiding a guilty secret. Duo grabbed her by the arm. "You do know something, don't you!?" "I don't know anything! I'm a total dunce! Leggo!" The girl broke free and squeaked out the door to the laundry room with her basket, which only further convinced Duo that something fishy was going on, but also that she obviously wasn't going to be one bit of help. He turned around to ask Heero's opinion, but he didn't look as if he'd heard a single word they spoke. Duo walked up to him and looked him over; he was leaning against the pots-and-pans cupboard next to the stove with his ankles crossed languidly, sipping the coffee he poured for himself while he stared down at the law book he carried. While Duo had been obsessed with vanishing vittles over the past week, Heero could think of nothing except cramming for imaginary term finals in beneficiary and inheritance law. The finer points regarding trustees, executors, probates, guardians, excises, notarial wills, holograph wills and everything in between so consumed the boy's senses that the entire exchange about mice and trifle had gone unnoticed. "Are you gonna help me look for these mice, or are you gonna stand there until termites eat the cabinet out from under you?" Heero finished off a paragraph on consanguinity before looking up. "What mice?" Duo gawked. "You haven't been listening again! Food's been disappearing, and I think we've got mice!" "A few misplaced meals is insufficient evidence to suspect mice," Heero stated, looking back down at the book. "If we had an infestation of something that size, you'd know it." "C'mon, I need you to take this seriously!" Duo begged, tugging on the other boy's sleeve. "I am the one and only Mouse of Bridlewood, and I will not have a pack of miniscule upstarts trying to rob me of my crown!" Heero slapped the book shut and looked sharply at his companion. "Has it occurred to you even once that there might be more important things? I'm busy trying to learn all I can about British law regarding estate management before I meet with Marlowe this afternoon," he said, smacking the book with the back of his hand. Duo was heavy-lidded and unimpressed. "Oooh, spending your day off in a lawyer's office? You rebel." He took a step closer and noticed several short dark hairs decorating the lapels and shoulders of Heero's suit. "I think you might be stressing yourself out a little too much over Lord Peacecraft's will, know what I mean?" he remarked, brushing the hairs off. Heero glared, but in an amused sort of way. "Your cat did that." "I notice she's only my cat when she needs brushing, or when her sandbox needs cleaning out," Duo whined. "And quit trying to change the subject! I'm not just mad about the mice, I'm mad at you for tying up your afternoon without even talking to me first! You don't get that many days off anymore, and I was just...sorta hoping...we could do something together today. Outside. Because it's nice out." The glare softened, and Heero genuinely thought about it as he wandered over to the pantry in search of a snack. "Come with me to see Marlowe, then...we can find something to do on our way back. Make dinner ahead of time and leave Hilde in charge, then we'll be able to stay out as late as we want." Duo smiled at last. Heero could have some really good ideas when he tried hard enough, and now Duo couldn't wait to see what kind of ideas he had once they left Marlowe's office. He followed him as far as the pantry doorway and watched him search several tins in vain, as all the muffins and tea biscuits had long ago fallen prey to the mysterious mice. While they puzzled lightly over the sudden food shortage, Trowa came in from the back garden, also looking for something to eat. "Don't mind me," the cinnamon-haired boy said, bypassing the pantry altogether, where most of the baked goods were usually kept, as per Duo's instruction. Instead, he went rifling through the breadbox and cookie tins on the china cabinet, which were purely for decoration and almost never contained anything edible. Duo squinted at him and folded his arms. "Yo, Tro...we don't keep food in those. You should know that by now." "Yeah, but the tins in the pantry are all empty." The squint sharpened, burning a little hole into the back of Trowa's head as Duo's suspicions jumped up and down like they were wearing springs on their feet. "I haven't seen you in here all day. How did you know the tins were empty?" Trowa froze, swallowed, and straightened up, shutting the breadbox with extreme delicacy. He turned around and tried to put on an innocent face, but it wasn't nearly enough. "Um..." "You know something too!" Duo hollered. "What's going on around here!?" Trowa's hands flew up in self-defence. "I don't know anything, I didn't see anything, and I haven't eaten one morsel that I wasn't specifically invited to eat! I gotta go..." He fled for the back door and wouldn't say another word about it. Now Duo was sure something was afoot. "You see that?" he said, turning to the pantry and pointing at the back door. "He knows what's going on, Hilde knows what's going on, but d'you think they'd tell me? Heck no, I'm only the cook! Why should I be aware of the tidal flow of food in and out of my territory? I can't think of a reason, can you!?" It didn't take him long to realize that Heero still wasn't listening. Duo frowned. Man, that's infuriating! I'm having a crisis here! Can't you muster up just a little understanding!? Duo stomped towards the pantry with an unspecified intent of inflicting pain on Heero's person, at the same instant that Heero gave up on finding anything edible in the pantry and started to walk out, causing a near-collision in the doorway; what happened next seemed to occur in slow motion from Duo's perspective. A split second before what would have been the moment of impact, both boys twisted clockwise and scooted through the doorway with less than an inch between them, without even thinking. Their eyes met, and a jolt of electricity seemed to jab Duo in the chest. He followed Heero's eyes all the way out of the pantry, staggering backwards when the arc of voltage was broken as they moved apart. Heero looked unaffected by the close encounter, but Duo was so suddenly and thoroughly intoxicated that he could no longer remember what he was supposed to be upset about. "Uh...what was I saying?" he asked with just a hint of a drunken smile. Heero thought back, found several blank pockets in his short-term memory, and gave it his best approximation to fill them. "Something about feeding the mice," he guessed before heading back up the stairs. "Yeah...gotta feed those mice..." Duo leaned back against the pantry shelves with one hand on his heart and the other on his stomach, listening to his own elevated heartbeat. Since the two of them started seriously conversing on a deeply personal level, that sort of thing had been happening to Duo a lot more often, and he liked it. The electric flashes that struck him when Heero was very near had a pleasing effect more powerful than alcohol and chocolate combined. All that was left in Duo's mind was the anticipation of spending the afternoon away from the house, and he hurriedly began preparing a dinner he could leave completely in Hilde's capable hands. The mystery of the hour vanished from his mind as easily as the trifle had disappeared from the kitchen table. **********Out in the backyard, killing time before lunch, when he would have to think up some more comforting things to say to his dear Lady, Otto stood solemnly with his hands behind his back, asking himself if he could have done anything more to protect Relena from the inevitable. He was quite used to playing the part of her guardian, a role which had been only half-heartedly passed onto Treize upon his arrival, but no amount of mental preparation made it any easier dealing with the girl in her time of mourning. The possibility that Milliardo would never return from Africa had always been in the back of their minds, Otto's more than hers, but there was a constant, lingering hope that they would never have to deal with the reality--a hope that was long dead. If only she had more people around her who cared for her as much as I do, the great bear of a man thought with a sigh. Her uncle only seems to be helpful when it suits him, and that blasted boy, disappointing her with that failed engagement...and he's hardly offered two words of sympathy to the poor girl since! We should never have allowed him into this house... "Otto! Are you paying attention?" A few yards away, the other mischief-maker of the household was tapping her foot impatiently. "I need your brain to be here, along with the rest of you! This is very important!" Otto looked at Dorothy with disdain. She hadn't been enough of a friend to Relena lately, in his opinion, and here she was, decked out in a new spring dress and carrying her layabout cat all over the grounds. "Miss Relena won't say what she thinks about your lack of consideration, but I will. I think it's appalling that you can't spend more time with her in one of her darkest moments." Dorothy looked offended that anyone would question her thoughts and deeds, especially the staff, and flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder at him. "I am sorry that her brother's gone, but all the weeping and wailing in the world isn't going to bring him back. We all need to turn our eyes toward the future now, and the immediate reality is such that Anna Maria needs her exercise after being cooped up all winter. All I'm asking you to do is look out over the back gardens, and if you see any stray cats, I want you to shoo them away. That's all! Once Anna Maria's had a nice walk in the fresh air, then I'll go and tend to her Ladyship...although I really do think she's old enough now to take care of these things on her own." She walked out onto the lawn, just off the back terrace a few paces, and held her fluffy white charge up in front of her. "Mind you, if she needs someone to arrange the flowers at his memorial service, I'll do it far cheaper than anyone will in town!" Otto sighed again, a little deeper this time. "I'm getting ready to put her down now. Are you watching?" "...yes, I'm watching." "Good." Dorothy placed Anna Maria gingerly down on her paws in the grass and stepped back. "Go on, sweetie. Mummy's right here..." The cat wandered around the grounds at will, ignoring her mistress shouting at the big bear to watch out for other cats, and had a lovely little adventure, chewing on weeds and chasing insects. After a while, a pleasing scent tickled her feline nose, and she followed it. It was a blend of floral aromas, like the kind she often smelled on her mistress, which was why she liked it so much, and wanted to see where it was coming from. She padded in a circle that led back to the house, to the left-hand side of the building, facing the gardens, and stopped at a window a good distance from the kitchen. Dorothy saw her pause and became just a little curious. "Anna Maria? What have you found, darling?" She came up behind her cat, who was now sniffing and pawing energetically at the basement window, through which one could ordinarily peer down at the sunken cellar rooms. This window, however, had a closed curtain blocking the view, and was roughly in the same place as Quatre's bedchamber, Dorothy calculated. The scent wafting out through the gaps around the glass was a delicate, flowery perfume. Dorothy thought about that for a long time, but threw out every speculation she had to explain it, because she just plain didn't like any of them. The Baroness studied the tiny gap in the curtains, and was suddenly rewarded with a colourful blur shooting past the window. Dorothy sat back on her heels and shook her head, then looked through the gap some more. Another blur went by, in much different colours than the first. Within a minute, a third distinct blur caught her eye. Many possibilities were tossed around Dorothy's head, but the simplest one that fit the evidence was that there were people in Quatre's room...new people that Dorothy had no knowledge of. This made her tremendously curious. "Miss Dorothy? Is something the matter?" Otto was walking towards her. She had to think fast. Scooping up her kitty, Dorothy whirled around and presented the house steward with a sweet smile. "No, no, everything's fine. Anna Maria found a grasshopper and she was playing with it, but it got away." She lifted the ball of fur high in the air and nuzzled her nose lovingly. "Anyway, I think that's enough exercise for now...we don't want you getting overtired, do we, Angelpuss?" "Hm. Very well." Otto went back inside, trotting down the steps to the kitchen through the servants' entrance, just as happy to put some distance between himself and the conceited girl. Dorothy preferred walking up the small concrete steps to the more formal entrance, leading up to the main level, but she couldn't get her mind off the cellar bedroom, where there was obviously something strange going on. I'll find out what it is, too. If it has anything to do with Quatre and his millions, I'll definitely find out. **********Mr. Marlowe welcomed the boys into his upscale offices that afternoon, and before they even sat down, they were stuck thickly into a discussion about Lord Peacecraft's will, most of which went straight over Duo's head until they got to the juicy bits. "Given Her Ladyship's emotional state, delaying the proceedings as much as possible would be in everyone's best interest," Marlowe said in his clipped English accent as he slid behind his desk and pointed the lads to a chair apiece. "Unfortunately, news of young Milliardo's death changes the situation somewhat." "How exactly?" Heero asked. Marlowe opened a cabinet to his right and extracted a file stuffed with a good half-inch's worth of papers, splaying it open on the desk. "His Lordship added a stipulation to his will that if Relena was less than eighteen years of age at the time of his death, the will could not be read without her brother present. I wasn't told the exact reason for this, but I got the impression that His Lordship felt it was necessary after a long series of communiqués with Count Khushrenada." Duo and Heero glanced sideways at each other, after which the latter leaned forward. "Did the Count know about this clause at the time it was written?" "I've no idea one way or the other, but it's certainly possible," Marlowe said. "He most definitely knows now, because I was duty-bound to inform him. In the absence of the brother, the next closest adult blood relative would have to sit in on the reading, and it seems that would be the Count himself...especially in light of other events..." "You wouldn't be holding out on us, would you?" Duo prodded. Marlowe scrunched up his face in thought as he pulled a few telegrams from the middle of the file. "Well...I wouldn't ordinarily discuss matters such as these with the house staff, if you'll pardon me for saying so, but it does seem rather odd in the light of day...perhaps you can think of something I haven't. "A few months ago, the Count wouldn't have been the closest blood relative within reasonable travelling distance of London. Lord Peacecraft had an aunt living in Middlesborough, and after his death, I was preparing to contact her if she was needed, but then I received the most peculiar message from the local authorities. It seems the poor woman was alone in her two-storey house and had a nasty spill down the stairs. Apparently she died instantly of a broken neck." If Marlowe saw the boys throwing an extended glare at each other, he didn't let on. "Since Relena never knew the woman, and since there were ample friends in Middlesborough to attend her funeral, I didn't think it prudent to bother the poor girl with more unhappy news, not so soon after her own loss." Marlowe handed the pertinent telegram to Heero, then raised both eyebrows at another telegram just underneath. "If I'd known then who else might have fallen into harm's way, perhaps I--" "There's more?" Duo gasped. Marlowe shrugged apologetically and passed the second telegram to Duo. "About two months later, word arrived about a cousin of His Lordship's, a titled gentleman living in Cornwall. Hunting accident, I was told. Shot in the back this past autumn. Died on the spot." Heero shook his head at the paper he held. "This is unbelievable..." "It seems that Count Khushrenada is now the next in line to authorize the reading of the will, as the only other candidates are living abroad and haven't the means to return," Marlowe explained. "The reading can now take place at any time, but for the sake of being genteel towards Her Ladyship, I've been looking for excuses to delay it." "Who is actually eligible to inherit the estate with the brother gone?" Heero asked, tossing the telegram back on the desk. "Don't know, I'm afraid," Marlowe admitted with reluctance. "I've always been the executor, but His Lordship was terribly concerned with secrecy over the actual contents of his will. He hired six other individuals in this office and dictated that they help write a page each, and never reveal what their portions contained, not even to myself. Knowing how important it was to him that Bridlewood go to the right people, well...I can't help but be concerned myself. That's why I'm trying to delay the reading." Duo was only paying attention to words and papers, but Heero and Mr. Marlowe seemed to be suddenly communicating on a higher level, a silent one made up of heavy, knowing glances. They looked at each other with a growing intensity that made Duo a bit edgy; he had never seem Marlowe be anything but pleasant, yet he was matching Heero glare for glare. Tying up everything he had heard into a tidy package, Heero leaned forward, folding his hands on top of the desk. "You suspect him, don't you?" Marlowe nodded with his eyebrows and nothing else, an unusual trick. "Categorically and thoroughly. The pity of it is, the police don't see it that way, even after I pleaded with them to investigate the two other deaths in the family. Lack of evidence." Duo glanced right and left, puzzled until it dawned on him that they were speaking of Treize. "I might have had slightly better luck," Heero said, talking a sealed envelope from his inside coat pocket and handing it to Marlowe. "This is all the evidence I've collected regarding Khushrenada's crimes against the Peacecraft family. As you've probably surmised by now, I was employed by an interested third party to infiltrate the household and catalogue his activities." It was near enough to the truth, for Heero's purposes. Marlowe took the treasure and tore into it gratefully. "I had my suspicions, to be honest. Never thought you were the type to be a servant, although you did a cracking good job at it, from what I saw." Duo smirked. "You haven't seen the streaks he leaves on the parlour windows." That earned him a raised eyebrow from his companion. "Quite," Marlowe chuckled warmly, eager to break the spell of death and deceit they were all under. "Now, this evidence of yours...to which 'accidental' death does it pertain? The auntie in Middlesborough, or the cousin in Cornwall?" Heero leaned back and slumped as the spell returned. "Neither." The boys waited patiently for Marlowe to drop his cloudy confusion and read his way to a gruesome revelation. The first page the solicitor examined was a signed statement from a Dr. Poole, pinned to a sketchy and grossly inadequate medical report on Relena's ill-fated father. In a short time, his eyes widened and his jaw fell as he was bowled over by the gravity of Poole's findings. "...good Lord.....it's a good deal worse than I imagined." Duo scratched the back of his head, a bit unsettled. "Yep...sucks rocks, doesn't it?" "It...it's absolutely scandalous!" Marlowe exclaimed. "Just thinking that the dear girl's own uncle may be responsible for three deaths directly in line for the Peacecraft fortune...have you shown any of this to the authorities?" Heero shook his head sharply. "Everything we have is circumstantial, probably not even enough to make an arrest, and the needless shock to Her Ladyship would be irreparable...but it does make one wonder about her brother." That suggestion sent a chill down all their spines. Without hesitation, Marlowe extracted another file from the right-hand cabinet and took from it Captain Peacecraft's death certificate, giving it to Heero straight away. "You're welcome to have a look at anything in these two files, but I haven't very much information about the brother. I've asked the Ministry of Defence to speak to whatever army generals necessary to confirm or refute this document, but so far, nothing." Heero studied the paper for a long time, but couldn't find anything immediately wrong with it, and set it back on the desk. He and Marlowe drifted into a stream of legal jargon that Duo had no desire to comprehend, and to pass the time while they spoke, he picked up the death certificate out of pure curiosity to see what one looked like. In less than a minute, he found several things wrong with it. "Uh, 'scuse me, fellas, but if this guy got nailed in Africa, why was this form filled out and witnessed in England?" Marlowe leaned towards the braided boy on his folded arms and tried not to sound condescending. "Under the circumstances of a war being fought in such a remote location, it's not strictly illegal, so long as the attending doctor provides his authenticating signature on his return to England. Until then, the signatures of two officers is sufficient to declare the Captain dead and proceed with the reading of his father's will. One could have sent the final document by post, but this is much quicker." Duo stared, hoping to give the impression that he understood. "Uh huh...and this name typed out here," he said, pointing, "that's the army doctor on the scene who made the judgement call that the Captain wasn't going to make it out of wherever he was alive?" "Yes, that's right." Heero couldn't see why Duo suddenly looked so pleased with himself, as if he'd finally found a way to contribute to the conversation, and leaned over his shoulder to give the document a second glance. "What is it?" "Okay, just...bear with me a minute here," Duo blurted, shifting around in his chair energetically. "Suppose the Count wanted to go whole hog and bump off his nephew. We pretty much know he's been in Europe during the whole war, so he would've had to send someone to Africa to take care of the job. Whack him in the head or whatever, get the death certificate, send it here, and nobody questions it. Now suppose that whoever he sent...couldn't get the job done. If we take it for granted that Treize isn't the sort of person you say, 'Oh, sorry, I goofed' to, the person would have to get a doctor's name from somewhere, just to fill the gap on the death certificate long enough to flee the country before his boss found out that the target got away." Heero silently nodded at the speculation; he could certainly relate to it. "So, this person might have just happened to pick a doc's name at random off whatever they could find...old duty rosters, whatever, right?" the cook proposed. Marlowe looked blank. "I'm not sure where you're headed with this, honestly." Ignoring the solicitor for the moment, Duo swivelled in his chair, held the paper up to Heero, and tapped the doctor's name with gusto. "C'mon, Heero, think! Where have you seen this name before?" Heero looked at the name again: Dr. A Doyle. It held a vague familiarity now that he was reading it and looking at Duo in the same glance. "...in those magazines you found in the attic." "Yes!" Duo cried, clenching his free hand in triumph. If Marlowe hadn't been there, he would have kissed Heero for renewing his faith in the butler's ability to pay attention to the small details of Duo's life. Instead, he settled for smacking the paper down in front of Marlowe. "Arthur Conan Doyle! I've read almost everything he's ever written, including a piece he did just this year about the war itself! He was only in Africa for a few months, and then he came home and started writing again! He couldn't possibly have put his name on that certificate!" Marlowe's eyes widened. "Are you sure!?" "Extremely sure," Duo said solemnly. "Either someone picked that name out at random, or there's two Dr. Doyles in the army. I don't even know if he was high up enough to fill out forms for the military anyway, 'cause he was only a volunteer." Duo leaned back and buffed his nails on the lapel of his black frock coat and let his ego soak up the impressed waves of astonishment trickling around the room. "Yep, you sure are lucky I came along. You happen to be looking at one of the world's major aficionados of the life, works, and philosophies of Arthur Conan Doyle, and we pride ourselves in knowing more about the man than anyone else. In fact, if I ever find out what he eats for breakfast that makes him so smart, it's going on our menu, permanently!" Duo looked around. The other two were still looking at him, but the admiration had faded. He sat up and stopped buffing. "I'm done now." With a small but genuine smile, Heero reached over and gave Duo's hand a little squeeze, below the desk where Marlowe couldn't see. "Good work," he praised his assistant. Duo smiled back. "If all this turns out to be exactly what happened," Marlowe continued excitedly, "then there's a faint chance Captain Peacecraft might still be alive! Of course, we shouldn't get Her Ladyship's hopes up..." He stood, signalling that time had run out on the interview, and the boys stood as well. "I have two more appointments before tea, and then I'll get straight on to a chap I know in the merchant marines. Maybe he'll know a way to bypass official channels and get some real news from Africa." "We'll make some inquiries on our own as well," Heero agreed. "Hopefully between the three of us, we can find out the truth." Marlowe saw them to the door, then paused with one hand in his pocket and the look of someone hoping to negotiate a good deal on a pre-owned horse and cart. "Don't mind my asking," he ventured with a grin, "but this 'interested third party' of yours...I don't suppose you'd be forthcoming with the gentleman's name..." Heero have him a genial stare for several seconds. "Thank you for finding the time to speak with us, Mr. Marlowe." He shook the man's hand and walked out. Duo followed with a shrug and a smile, mirrored by the thwarted solicitor. It was worth a shot. **********To the surprise of some and the delight of many at Bridlewood, one person who seemed totally committed to making Relena feel good about life in general again was Marcus Wyndham. Since they day he learned of her brother's fate, the giddy young aristocrat made time to drop by and comfort her every single day, and Relena became increasingly glad to see him strolling up the front walk with his bunches of flowers and boxes of chocolates. As a special treat, Arthur brought a large, heavy object out of storage and polished it to perfection, a porch swing that had needlessly fallen into disuse. He re-assembled it in the gazebo on the back lawn, which was at the exact midpoint between the house and the hedge maze, and it served as an ideal thinking spot for youngsters with a great deal to think about. That day, when Marcus arrived for tea, Relena asked him to stay for dinner, and afterwards they crept out to the gazebo together, to lounge around on the newly-revived porch swing and watch the sun set. The poor little rich girl hadn't had much to smile about in recent days, and Marcus thought that was a crying shame. On a whim, he nudged her in the shoulder with one hand, while taking a half-crown coin from his pocket with his other hand. "Here...watch this." With an engaging smirk that expertly captured her dulled attention, he held up the coin, pressed it into his left palm, closed his fingers around it, then flashed his hand open. The coin was gone. Relena smiled and almost giggled, but the boy wasn't through yet. "Hang on, what's that?" he asked, pointing to a lock of her hair that had somehow tied itself into a thick square knot. She gasped and wondered as he picked it up and grasped the golden ribbon on either side of the knot. "Hold out your hands," he instructed, and she did so. Marcus gave either end of the lock of hair a little tug, and the knot came undone, letting the coin of mystery fall down into her waiting hands. Relena laughed at long last, quite amused with the trick. "That was wonderful! I had no idea you were as clever as all that!" "Well, you looked like you could use a laugh," Marcus said gently in his musical Liverpool tones. "I make it a point to laugh every day, even if there's nothing to laugh at. We can cry as much as we want, but when we stop laughing, we're finished." Relena hummed in agreement and turned the coin over in her hands. "I know I'll have to get on with my life sooner or later, but for some reason, I can't set my mind to the future as easily as I could before. My head used to be swimming with party plans and new gowns I was going to buy and soirées I was going to attend...but now...all that seems so unimportant. I can't decide what to do with myself from one day to the next, because it feels like everything I used to do, doesn't matter anymore." She stared down and sighed. "Sometimes I think your visits are the only reason I get up in the morning." "There's nothing wrong with you, m'lady," Marcus said. "Maybe there was something wrong with all the things you used to do, but there's nothing the matter with your charming self. You're growing out of certain things, that's all. I used to shoot nuts at squirrels with a catapult when I was a lad, and I grew out of that, so there's hope for you yet!" He indulged in a long, full-body stretch and a yawn, which had the perfectly-planned effect on Relena, which was to make her yawn as well. Relaxation was a must. "You're becoming a different person because of this, but it's nothing to be afraid of, you know. It could result in an even better you than before, and you needn't worry about running this place on your own either, because I'd be more than happy to pop 'round and give you my unsolicited opinion." He finished his offering with a quick, light nuzzle to the side of her head, which made her smile even more. "You're so sweet..." "Mumsy always said I could give sweet lessons to the honey bees." Relena giggled, finally reaching some sort of peace. The sun was setting before them, and the west-facing porch swing provided the ideal perch to watch the sky burn with every colour in nature as night descended upon London. The two youngsters sat there through the entire spectacle, and after a prolonged silence, Relena leaned to her left and rested her head on Marcus' shoulder, drenched in comfort. They stayed that way until the stars began peeking through the great blue bowl placed over the Earth, and then, went inside to say their goodnights. **********There was plenty more sunshine to be had after leaving Marlowe's office, and the two boys soaked up as much of it as they could, lounging around on the banks of the River Thames. The whole world seemed to be out and about that day, enjoying their well-earned spring weather; Duo and Heero fit right in, looking like a dozen other pairs of lazy kids who were lolling about in the parklands, watching clouds, skipping stones, and rolling up their pant legs so they could dangle their feet in the water. They both agreed, this was the way life should always be. It ended all too soon as the setting sun began chasing everyone back inside for a late dinner; nevertheless, the boys took their sweet time getting back to Bridlewood. Hoping that no one of great importance had noticed their absence, they crept in through the kitchen door, still basking in the glorious feeling of freedom they had shared. Their post-outing reverie was short-lived, however, as they saw Hilde was waiting for them, just inside the hall that led to Trowa and Quatre's room. "Hi, guys," she said with shifty eyes and a tremor in her voice. Duo knew from experience that an intro like that couldn't precede anything but bad news. His face fell. "Oh no. What went wrong? It was just a casserole! You can't do anything to a casserole! What happened!?" Hilde wildly waved off the idea with both hands. "No no no, dinner was fine! It was absolutely perfect! We didn't miss you one bit!" Duo glared. "But...there is a problem," the girl continued. "Well...not so much of a problem as just...something you need to know." She looked over her right shoulder, expecting to hand the conversation over to someone behind her, but the someone had fled in fear. After a little growl of frustration, she stomped away towards Trowa and Quatre's room, from which odd noises were heard shortly afterwards. The noises grew louder, and when Hilde returned, she had Trowa with her, and they were both holding Quatre a full two inches off the ground by an arm each, carrying him into the kitchen by force. The gardener's little legs were windmilling as he struggled and whimpered and pleaded with his friends to reconsider. Unmoved by his sad green eyes, they dumped him in front of Heero and poked him with their elbows a sufficient number of times to make him take a step forward under his own power. Quatre glanced nervously around the room, deliberately avoiding the spot Heero was standing in, and looked back at Trowa and Hilde. "Do I have to?" he squeaked. "Yes!" they bellowed in unison. "We're sick and tired of lying for you!" said Hilde. "And stealing for you, too!" said Trowa. Quatre sighed at Heero. "I was going to tell you eventually anyway, honest. I, uh...guess you'd better come take a look." He beckoned for him to follow, and Duo as well, and led all four of them back down the hall to his room, stopping just in front of the door. He opened it a crack, whispered to someone inside, gave one last pleading smile to Heero, and let them inside. As the very befuddled butler stepped into the double bedroom, five young women in strange clothes scampered hurriedly about and arranged themselves into a tidy horizontal line, some holding colourful objects that required some explanation. A sixth woman, who appeared to be the oldest, remained where she was, leaning back against a chest of drawers, arms folded and face drawn. While the girls in the lineup giggled and primped and smiled at Heero, who was sharing a moment of pure speechlessness with Duo, Quatre stepped between them all and put on a showman's smile. "Heero, these girls are all my sisters," he began, rubbing his hands together nervously as the butler's gaze darkened. "Now, I know what you're thinking--" "No, I don't think you do," Heero interrupted in a low growl. "Give them a chance, please!" Quatre begged. "They came here in peace, and they want nothing more than to make themselves useful!" He jogged over to the first girl in line, a brunette wearing an emerald green headscarf and a blue wrap-around dress, and pulled her forward, presenting her to Heero with both hands on her shoulders. She stood just half a head shorter than her brother. "This is Asalah. She's a seamstress, and she'd love to help around the house with the mending, to earn her keep!" Asalah smiled and stepped forward excitedly. She was holding a hand-embroidered sash of the finest red silk, which she had decorated herself with flowing geometric designs in brightly coloured threads. She quickly stretched both arms around Heero's waist and tied the sash securely around his middle, knotting it off to the side and delicately combing out the fringe with her fingers. "May the sun never cease to shine upon your children, and upon your children's children!" she sang before kissing his hand and stepping back in line. Heero was wide-eyed in shock. Duo was not amused. Before either of them could utter a sound, Quatre brought another sister forward, identical to the first except for a golden yellow headscarf and a flowing red dress. "This is Nashida, Asalah's twin. She's a weaver! Just think, she could keep the manor well-stocked in baskets and rugs until it crumbles to dust at our feet!" Nashida smiled, bowed deeply, and piled a fabulous hand-woven throw rug into Heero's arms. It had a picture of the sun setting behind a scene of tree-covered mountains woven right into it with soft yarns of sheeps' wool, and was edged with strands of gold. "May the rivers be full in every place you tread, from now until eternity!" she trilled before leaning forward, planting a kiss on his cheek, and skipping back to stand next to her twin. Duo was even less amused. Heero rolled up the carpet and tried to catch Quatre's attention. "If I could just--" "And this is Hessa," Quatre barrelled forth, presenting a humbly-dressed young woman wearing a variety of muted greens and browns, with platinum blonde hair like her brother's. "She taught me everything I know about gardening! If it weren't for her, I'd be out of a job!" Heero shook his head briefly. "This really isn't--" "Kind sir," Hessa said, beating him to it nicely, "please accept this small token and guard it well." She gave him a small clay pot packed with mossy soil, out of which was growing a dwarfish green plant with broad, oblong leaves, spiky yellowish sprigs, and a single white flower. "It's a cutting of Arabian Jasmine, from my own garden. I know you'll take excellent care of it, and in turn, it will blossom faithfully for the rest of your days." She helped him juggle the rug enough that he had a free hand to carry the plant, gave him a hug, and stepped back in line. Now Heero's gifts were starting to block his field of vision. "Th-thank you, but--" "Let me look at you!" the next girl in line shouted with concern. She had on a dark costume of the deepest midnight purple, short, flowing curls of dark tan hair held back by an embroidered headband and tied into a loose braid, and wore a different ring on each of her fingers. Heero had the best view of her rings, for she ran straight past Quatre, grabbed Heero by the face, and was peering deeply into his bewildered eyes. "Stress!" she shouted. "I see nothing but stress and discomfort in your life! You need to learn how to relax or you'll perish before your time!" Heero tried to say something, but couldn't; the girl had his face in such a tight squeeze that he couldn't move his mouth. "This is Kamal," Quatre interjected from the side. "She's very.....spiritual." Kamal glanced over her shoulder. "Hessa? Chair!" Obeying her elder sibling, Hessa quickly ran behind Heero to the writing desk, yanked out the old armchair from in front of it, twirled it around and rammed it into the backs of Heero's knees just as Kamal let go of his face. He fell backwards into the chair, still clutching the plant and the rug, and soon Kamal was right behind him, massaging the two tense spots between his shoulders and neck. As she firmly kneaded the cloth and flesh between her strong fingers, she leaned down to whisper in his ear, "That's it, just let all those tensions melt away..." The fifth and final girl in line bounced forward, oddly enough, covered by a dark gabardine coat. The pretty brunette, bubbliest of them all, bent down and put her face an inch away from Heero's. "You do want us to stay now, don't you? Pleeeease? If you throw us out of the house now, you'll never know how happy we could have made you..." Right on cue, Hessa took out a skinny yet bulbous pipe-like object, sat cross-legged on the floor, lifted the instrument to her lips and began to play an exotic tune, sounding like a cross between a kazoo and a partially-strangled duck. The bubbly brunette stepped back and peeled off her coat, revealing a shapely figure wrapped tightly in a shiny costume of blue and scarlet, decorated all over with little gold charms and accentuated by dozens of bracelets and other assorted pieces of jewellery. To Heero's shock and Duo's horror, she began to dance in wiggling, slithering motions, flinging her hips about and clinging her little finger cymbals while Asalah and Nashida clapped in time with the music. Heero tried very hard to look away, but couldn't stop himself from peeking at the gaudy display out of the corner of his eye as he squirmed. It was strangely hypnotic, like watching a train wreck in slow motion. Duo, for his part, was so far from amused that he was starting to forget what amused felt like. The sixth woman, still leaning against the dresser, had just about had enough, and marched straight up to the dancer just as she was displaying a scandalous amount of leg, and tugged sharply on her ear. "Adeela, put that away," she groaned. Adeela stopped dancing, and with her stopped also the music and the clapping. She slouched and toddled off to the side at her older sister's command, but not without sticking her tongue out at her first. Once the room was quiet again, Heero's rescuer stood in front of his chair, looking down, and extended a hand. "Yasmeen." The boy took her hand, frightened of what might have happened if he refused it. "Heero." "I'm a mathematician, and I don't believe in bribery, so from me you get nothing." Heero blinked. "I respect that." "You must forgive my siblings, especially my brother," Yasmeen said in a low, sultry voice. "We came here only a week ago, and he graciously took us in, but on the condition that we meet with the approval of the one in charge of this house. When he described you to us as being ultimately the one who must decide whether we stay or go, my sisters couldn't wait to abase themselves by fawning over you in an attempt to win your favour." "Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute..." Duo stepped up beside Heero's chair, unable to contain the blizzard of odd feelings about the whole matter. "Why is he the one who gets to decide? He hasn't been inconvenienced by you people one bit! It's pretty obvious now where all the food's been going, and I was having a nervous breakdown all week thinking we had mice! I'm the one who's been doing all the suffering, but Heero gets showered with presents and I get nothing!?" Quatre gave him a pitiful frown of sympathy. "Ohhh, I'm sorry, Duo! I didn't realize it would upset you this much, and nobody gave you anything either..." Thinking quickly, he went to his bedside table, opened the drawer, and took something long and skinny out, with pink, yellow and green spiral stripes. He held it out to Duo with a smile. "Here's a tutti frutti candy stick I was saving for later, would you like to have it?" Duo stared at the pretty stripes, then acted very begrudged as he swiped the candy out of the gardener's hands. "Alright, I'll take your candy...but only to ease your guilty conscience," he said, just beginning to drool, "and not because I really...really love tutti frutti candy sticks..." He went off to a corner, happy as a clam, and unwrapped his treasure, slucking off the stripes almost immediately. "As...I was saying," Yasmeen went on, "we will try to earn your trust honestly from now on, because the alternative is unthinkable. We fled our homeland to escape the horrors of a family at war with itself, and we only ask for a place to hide, and if necessary, to defend." Yasmeen turned slightly at the waist and looked each of her sisters in the eye. "And while we are here, we will not make excessive noise, we will not eat more than our deeds are worth, and we most definitely will not drench this room in rose water so much that those to whom the room belongs cannot sleep!" ".....thank you," Trowa said meekly from the back. Quatre knelt down beside Heero's chair and put both hands on his right arm with a hopeful smile. "Well? What do you think? Can they stay? Just for a little while, at least?" Heero was paralyzed. Nine pairs of eyes were firmly fixed on him; the tenth pair was too busy looking at the fading stripes on the candy stick, but Duo seemed content enough with the situation now. He just hated being left out of anything. Heero sensed Quatre was getting impatient. "Who else knows?" "Just Arthur and Wufei, nobody else, I swear." ".....hn..." The ticking of the kitchen clock two rooms away filled the entire space around them as the butler deliberated, looking from face to face and feeling his steely resolve melt like so much chocolate left out in the sun. Heero sighed. "They can stay." The five younger sisters all fell at his feet, uttering high-pitched prayers of thanks and pressing his hands to their faces. Three of them were actually weeping for joy. Trying very hard to be a gentleman under such bizarre circumstances, Heero carefully wrenched himself out of their grasp, and out of the armchair, grabbing Duo by the braid and retreating out the hall to the kitchen. Once safe, he leaned against the nearest wall and banged his head on it lightly, still carrying the treasures bestowed upon him a few minutes earlier. Duo was only half-way through his own sugary treasure, and gave Heero a silent pat on the back for being such a good sport. A moment later, Quatre tip-toed out the hall and regrouped with Heero, mostly to see how angry he was. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked timidly. "They seem to have made themselves at home already...how can I not be okay with it?" The deathglare was in Heero's voice instead of painted on his face; Quatre knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. "I know, I'm sorry...Trowa and I demanded total honesty from you two, and then I turn right around and start keeping all these secrets...but you have to understand, they just appeared out of nowhere! I had no idea they were even in England! ...I was going to ask you if they could stay the very same day they arrived, but then we found out about Miss Relena's brother, and...it just seemed like a bad time, and it stayed a bad time all week. See what I mean?" Heero looked Quatre straight in the eye, dead serious. "Relena's importance is secondary. The real issue is whether or not you realized the kind of security risk you were setting yourself up for when you let them in. Any one of them could secretly be an assassin, or perhaps they all--" "I know what I'm doing!" Quatre shouted, balling his fists momentarily before calming himself. "I can't explain how I know this, but I am absolutely certain, with every fibre of my being, that those women mean absolutely no harm to me. Please, you have to accept the way I feel, if you have any faith in me at all. I trust them." It was an argument that had as much resilience as a sheet of tissue paper, but something in the boy's eyes compelled Heero to believe him, and he nodded at last. "Not a word to Relena, or anyone else." Just as Quatre was smiling with relief, a clumping noise came down the servants' stairs, and a tired and frustrated Otto appeared, looking as gruff as ever. "What's the meaning of all this noise? Miss Relena's in bed already, and we can hear something strange from three floors up!" The trio looked at each other briefly. "Mice," said Heero. "Big mice," said Quatre. "With really powerful lungs," said Duo. "But don't sweat it, we've got it covered. They won't bother anyone again." He smiled, lips tinted faintly pink from the candy, and Otto backed away with a sneer. As soon as he was gone, Quatre thanked Heero with his eyes and went back to his room, leaving the cook and the butler to ponder what to do with the rest of the evening...all ninety minutes of it. Duo crunched down the rest of the tutti frutti treat and threw away the waxed paper wrapping. "Don't you wish all your days off were this exciting?" Heero sighed tiredly and held up his new potted plant. "I'm going to find a place for this...and then I'm going to bed." Duo chuckled and agreed that this was the best plan yet that day. He carried Heero's new throw rug for him as they dragged themselves upstairs to rest, and to plan ways to avert whatever crisis reared its ugly head without warning next. |
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Next, in Episode Forty-Five: While on assignment to watch Treize's movements outside the manor, Duo falls in the path of a strange bit of luck that could change the financial course of the rest of his life. Meanwhile, Dorothy attempts some detective work to find out what's going on in Quatre's room, and Heero has to contact an old, fearsome acquaintance to continue his investigation.
Mmmm...old-fashioned candy sticks... *drool* They still make those, y'know. There's a store down the street from me that has them...and now I want some. =o_o= Well, I guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow afternoon. And I wondered if there were any diligent Sherlockians out there who might have seen my use of Doyle's name last episode and immediately knew there was something wrong with it...*teehee* I love doing that...and I can't also help but wonder if anyone caught the Monty Python reference in this episode. =^_~= It's sort of in honour of the Comedy Network picking up Flying Circus for the summer. Canada is a happier place now. *grinz* Now, I'll need a couple extra days to sort myself out before next ep, so let's regroup on April 29th. Say, we're gaining rapidly on our 1-year anniversary... =^-^=