Warnings: ...groping. =o.o=
Disclaimer: I know, from traipsing through every store, mall, and boutique in the Greater Toronto Area, that nobody has Gundam pilots for sale. I even offered to pay retail instead of the supposed sale price, but they still said no. Therefore, I cannot possibly own these magnificent examples of manhood, or the chicks they hang out with. Do not sue me. I have no money except that miniscule amount reserved for presents.
~~~~~~~~~~|
Episode Sixty-Seven: Crack Shot "The harder you work, the luckier you get." ~Gary PlayerDecember 5th, 1902 As it turned out, Duo really did catch a chill when he went storming out into winter weather unprepared, but with the family gone, nobody needed any exceptionally fancy meals, so Hilde was more than happy to take over his duties with very simple cooking until he recovered. Everyone pretty much agreed that he had been working harder than any of them lately, and Heero concluded that it was probably burnout as much as the cold that made him sick. A quick call to Sally confirmed that it was bed rest he needed, and Heero made sure that was exactly what he got. The other impending problem was carrying out the plan to intercept Byron's mail, in order to locate the nearest of Lord Jeffrhyss' archival bases. In a roundabout way, Quatre's family depended on it, for until Hassan and Treize could be pitted against each other, there was little hope of ending the war amongst his siblings. Only a little over half of Quatre's sisters remained alive, according to sporadic reports; many lives were still hanging on the task. A team of five went to Eton that morning, to infiltrate what they believed to be Byron's base of operations, but Duo stayed home, at Heero's insistence. Hilde stayed as well, to feed him soup and generally take care of him, and they had a pleasant, lazy day together in a little-used sitting room on the second floor near his bedroom. It was small and cozy, with its own little fireplace and a window overlooking the street. The two of them turned the sofa towards the window so they could watch the world go by as they chatted over bakery doughnuts and hot apple cider. "How's your throat this morning?" Hilde asked. "Better," Duo said tiredly. In the past week, he had suffered a variety of relatively mild symptoms, but the sore throat towards the end of the cold had been the worst. "Can't wait to get back to work. It was nice to have a little rest, but I'm getting bored." "How can you be bored? You've had Heero all to yourself for a week and a half!" she chuckled. "It's not as fun as it sounds when you're hacking and coughing all night," Duo moaned. "It was a struggle just to get him to sleep on the couch so he wouldn't catch my germs, and then on Tuesday night, I was keeping him awake with my stupid cough, so I made him go sleep in the other room two doors down. You know, the blue room with the squeaky door?" "Awww." Hilde rubbed his arm sympathetically. "He kept telling me over and over that he wouldn't get sick, but I just didn't want to take the chance. It was awful being all alone at night and not feeling well, but I couldn't do it to him." He chomped down on his second plain sugar doughnut, lightly spiced with a pinch of nutmeg, but it didn't do much to cheer him up. Only getting his life back in order would do that. "It's hard enough figuring out the sleeping arrangements as it is. Everyone still things my room is somewhere down the hall, and we're both very careful about keeping it that way, but it feels like it's all screwed up now..." "I doubt anyone's even noticed. Hey, Beth and I fixed up your old room in the attic real nice with some old leftover rolls of wallpaper we found in the storage room! It looks like a patchwork quilt now!" Hilde giggled and happily slurped her cider, but soon, the fact that Duo still looked sullen caught up with her. "Hey...what's the matter with you? You're practically cured, and everything will be back to normal soon. You should be thrilled! ...unless.....something else is wrong?" Duo stared down into his mug of cider, watching the murky amber liquid swirl around under its own power. He did need to talk to someone about it, because it was eating him alive. "I got a letter from Helen the other day." A treat like that should have been good news. Hilde swallowed nervously, wondering what the catch was. A decline in the woman's already poor health was the first thing on her mind. "How's she doing?" "...she, um..." He suggested to himself that he put the mug down, lest he drop it in his despair, but his arms were frozen. "She wants me to leave Heero and go live with her in Ireland again." Hilde gaped. "What? Why?" Duo suddenly looked very guilty. "I, uh...got to thinking awhile back, about how I've never been so happy my whole life, and how it's all because of Heero, and she's meant so much to me that I wanted to tell her how great things are, and..." "...oh, Duo, you didn't..." "I didn't mean to!" "You almost went to prison for being the way you are, don't you get it!?" Hilde exclaimed, twisting to face him. "You can't tell anyone about it, you told me yourself! How could you go and blab it all out to someone on paper, especially after begging me to keep my mouth shut!?" Duo shook his head numbly, staring just off from the window. "I never thought I did tell her, until she wrote back...and then I was frantically trying to remember what I said in that first letter, figure out what she read wrong..." "You mean, what she read right," Hilde said softly, propping an elbow up on the back of the sofa. Duo finally put the mug down, then turned to look at her with pleading eyes, desperate for someone to understand his position. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked, waiting just half a second until Hilde nodded enthusiastically before continuing. "Heero and I...well, we're close, but as far as the law is concerned, and believe me, I know more about the law than I'd like to.....we haven't.....done anything...yet." "I know you haven't, 'cause you would've told me...right??" She smirked playfully, and that made him smile a bit at last, with a hint of a blush on the side. "...probably, but that's not the point. The point is, even though I technically didn't tell Helen any details, and even though me an' Heero haven't technically done anything really wrong, somehow she knows what's hiding way at the back of my mind and knows how to make me feel totally guilty about it. How fair is that?" Hilde wrinkled her brow and gazed out the window in deep thought. "Would you mind if I read her letter?" Wordlessly, Duo took the letter from the back pocket of his denims, all crumply and dishevelled, and handed it to her. She raised an eyebrow at the fact that he was still carrying it around with him, then set to work reading it, while Duo picked up another doughnut. After glancing over the first few paragraphs, Hilde was surprised, and let it show in her voice. "Looks to me like she's just worried about you and wants what's best for you, that's all." "Yeah, but it's the way she says she's worried about me, like I'm on the road to purgatory, or something," Duo explained in a defensively suspicious tone. "She even called Heero a bad influence." "Oh, now, I'm sure she..." Hilde was about to make light of Duo's concerns when she moved on to the second page of the letter and was hit in the face by a phrase that could possibly be construed as her calling Heero a bad influence. "Oh. She did say." "Told you." "Well..." "She doesn't have any right to talk about him that way. She doesn't even know him. And besides, I think it's safe to say that out of the two of us, I'm the bad influence. I mean, there's poor, innocent Heero, totally ignorant of..." Duo stopped babbling when he realized that what he was about to blurt out was not only speculation, but most probably privileged information if it was true. "...of what?" Hilde asked excitedly, sensing that some juicy gossip was imminent. "Of..." Great. Now what do I tell her? That his master shipped him off to gigolo school, but he never made it past the first grade? That they tied him to his bunk like an animal every night so he wouldn't have 'wandering hands'? I don't think even Heero understands that part...if I can't explain it to her, how will I ever be able to show him? This is torture... "...y'know, of...of the whole relationship deal in life." "Oh." Hilde looked vaguely disappointed, but shook it off. "So what are you going to tell Helen when you write back to her?" Faced with another tough topic, Duo looked down. "I don't think I can write back...at least, not until I figure a few things out. It just rots, too, 'cause I was thinking of going to visit her for Christmas, but now I don't know..." He suddenly felt like turning the conversation around before he got really depressed, so he cracked a smile and grabbed another doughnut. "But enough about me! You're been sneaking out of the house an awful lot lately. If I can guess who you've been going to see, do I win a prize?" Hilde laughed and blushed at the way he knowingly waggled his eyebrows at her. "It's Wufei," she confessed. "Knew it," Duo said with pride. "So, what brought that on?" "I'm still not sure, y'know?" she sighed. "Frankly, I've never been able to picture myself with somebody, and for a long time, all I could think about was sticking close to you and your honey, and leech off of your happiness, but now...I kinda want a honey of my own." She turned an even richer shade of rose, and displayed a sweet, pouty little smile as she fiddled with a loose thread on her apron. "You guys probably think he's a stuck-up egomaniac, but that's just for show. He's really an angel. He's smart, he's funny, he's strong...and he's totally incapable of keeping secrets from me, so I think I can trust him," she finished firmly. "Ah." Duo was easily reminded that the whole reason the girls were let in on the boys' anti-Cinq scheme was because Wufei couldn't keep his lips buttoned up in Hilde's presence. Unexpectedly curious to a radical degree, he scooted closer to her on the couch and lowered his voice. "I couldn't help wondering...what do you do to him to make him squeal all his secrets like that?" Cautiously, Hilde looked to either side, then at the door and out the window. "Okay, I'll tell you, but don't tell anyone else," she said, and she beckoned him close as she slunk up to his left side. Duo leaned in and let her whisper in his ear. His eyes ballooned in surprise, and Hilde sat back, nodding. "You're kidding," he breathed. "Nope. It's true. I just don't want everyone knowing, 'cause they might think less of me for it." "Wow..." Duo was quite honestly stunned, and also seeing his friend in a totally new light. "Where did you learn how to do that?" "Well...you know those women who used to prowl around the alley behind that one train station at night, wearing all that perfume and rouge?" "You got it from them!?" Hilde folded her arms with a snooty glare. "You know as well as I do that when you have to share living space with those women, talking to them is a lot better than listening to them talk to each other about their 'clients.' Besides, it's not as bad as it sounds. You'd do it for Heero, wouldn't you?" Duo reddened slightly. "Jeepers...I'd kinda have to think about it. I doubt he'd even want me to." "You never know until you ask," Hilde declared. "Anyway, I've found something that works on Wufei, and I'm sticking with it. He's putty in my hands." The sultry look she threw Duo's way made him squirm, and that made her giggle. Duo had to admit, he felt a little better for being distracted from his dilemma, but he still didn't know what to do about it. In fact, he was just as confused as ever, and began counting the minutes until Heero got home, when his tensions would be sweetly soothed. **********The five-person team who left the house on a mission that morning were both surprised and unnerved at how close to Bridlewood Eton College actually was. It could have been clear across the city, fifty miles in the opposite direction, but they lucked out, depending on how they chose to look at it. They were faced with a group of magnificently austere stone-walled buildings making up the campus, and were all greatly reminded of their various forays to Oxford. Tucked away between the stacks of the book store opposite the college chapel, they could peer through the front window and see some of the residents sauntering around on their mid-morning break. They were mostly boys of varying ages, plus a few grown men employed as professors and house masters, all wearing identical long-tailed black coats, matching pinstriped trousers, and plain white shirts with little white bow ties. Though there was nothing falling from the sky, it was still rather cold, so the boys were keeping indoors as much as possible, and donned long black overcoats for the occasional venture from building to building. Heero watched the scene carefully, waiting for Byron to cross his line of sight. To the west of the building where they were hiding lay the bulk of the boarding houses, and since they had a clear view of the west entrance to the main college building, he reasoned that if Byron wanted to stop at his room between classes, he'd have to walk right through Heero's path of vision to do it. Then they could follow him right to his dorm. Sheer brilliance. Quatre, Trowa and Wufei were getting ready for the main part of the mission, while Sally stood off to the side, primping in a compact mirror, a very un-Sally-like thing to do. Feeling as if she hadn't made much of a contribution to the group, she was making a special effort, and had volunteered her only day off in some time. "How's it looking?" Wufei asked, slinking up to Heero's side. "The same. If I don't see him, we'll have to ask around to find out if he's even here." "He should be. I checked the school calendar myself, and they don't go home for Christmas break for another week yet." Wufei snarled and cracked his knuckles. "I'd love to take a stab at him myself, the smarmy little windbag!" Heero smirked to himself. "Yes...he's almost as pompous and self-important as you used to be." Wufei took in that thought, and grumbled as he turned away to glance over the rest of the ream. "Are you two ready?" he asked, referring only to Sally and Trowa. The latter was still having his costume adjusted by Quatre, who had gone to three different tailors to concoct a nearly exact replica of the school uniform. Trowa had been chosen to actually sneak onto the grounds and search Byron's room, since he was the fastest runner and had the best chance of escaping if something went awry. Also, Byron might never have seen him properly before, and wouldn't associate him with Heero right away. "Almost done," Quatre said, reaching up with both hands to tightly button the white shirt collar around Trowa's neck. "Just let me fasten this..." Trowa exhaled tensely and tried not to squirm too much. It wasn't the long-tailed coat that bothered him, or the circulation-blocking collar--the rift between himself and Quatre was getting wider and more unpleasant. It certainly had not escaped his attention that Quatre hadn't spoken directly to him all day, and was only there because he was asked to fix up a suitable uniform. "How long are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment?" he asked at the bottom of his voice so the others couldn't hear. "I don't know what you mean," Quatre whispered back innocently. He failed to look Trowa in the eye as he affixed the first of two gold-tone cufflinks onto his sleeves. "Yes, you do, you've been like this for days." "I've just been tired lately." "From what?" "Never mind." Their mutterings drew Heero's attention, and he walked over and regarded them both coolly. Friction between members of his team could be detrimental to the mission. "Is there a problem?" The pair stood side by side and several feet apart, practically smashed up against the bookshelves to either side. "No...everything's fine," Quatre took it upon himself to answer. Heero examined them both carefully. Something might have been wrong, but it didn't seen to be affecting their work performance, yet. He clasped his hands behind his back, pulling his unbuttoned winter coat open a little further. "You all remember your assignments?" "Decoy," Sally said. "Decoy's lookout," Wufei added. "Infiltration and retrieval," said Trowa. Quatre wondered with mild bitterness at why he of all people was elected costume designer, but temporarily let it slide. "Close-range lookout." "And long-range lookout," Heero finished, pointing to his chest. "The number of students wandering around is increasing. If we start now, we could have optimum cover for the operation." "What about Byron?" asked Trowa. Heero beckoned, and they all followed him to the end of the hedge and peered over his shoulder. Across the path, standing below the massive square stone arch that led into the school yard, were Byron and a handful of his classmates, chatting casually. They spied him just in time before he parted from the group with a wave and headed down Keate's Lane with a few books under his arm, walking swiftly away from the school. Prowling out of the book store in a loose knot, they followed him at an exaggerated distance until he turned down Eton Wick Road, carried on a ways, then ducked into one of the dormitories, labelled Westbury House. He'd picked himself a fine place to set up camp while in London; the splendid three-storey complex was brand new, and looked quite luxurious, even from the outside. After spending a few minutes inside, Byron came out again, without his books, and headed further down the road alone. There were several fine eating establishments in the neighbourhood, so he was probably on his way to have his elevenses in a posher atmosphere than the communal eating areas, but whatever the reason, the time for swift action had come. A quick conference ensued between Trowa and Wufei over whether or not he should comb back his rather unique cinnamon hair, and while they tried different styles, Heero took Sally aside and inspected her couture more closely. She was wearing perhaps the finest dress in her wardrobe, a dazzling garment of purples and blues, trimmed with tiny pearls and fit for a queen. The hat matched, too. She looked good--a little too good, Heero thought. "I didn't like to mention it," he said, quietly and delicately, "but...while that is a very interesting dress..." "You think it's too much," Sally finished for him, brushing a beautifully coiffed lock of hair away from her elegantly made-up face. "The thought had crossed my mind." Sally put her hands back into the black fur muff that matched the trim on the cape and tilted her head at just the right angle for the breeze to catch the feather in her hat and flutter it a bit. "Borrowed it from a friend in the dress hire business. I wouldn't have volunteered to play decoy unless I had something specific in mind, and from what you've told me about this kid, I know just how to deal with him." Heero looked unsure of the whole situation. "What exactly do you intend to do?" he asked with concern. Sally held her head up defiantly. "I don't tell you how to do your job, do I?" "You mean recently?" She wrinkled her nose in a little sneer. "If you're finished, I've got a date with a masher." With that, she strutted away on a course to intercept Byron just outside the college property, and left Heero to his unnecessary worries. He had described Byron to the group as a self-indulgent brat who soaked every one of his lascivious tastes in great excess, and Sally knew the type perfectly, from personal experiences which she was yet keeping secret. The mission was finally underway, whether it had Heero's ultimate approval or not. He turned to the group and shrugged. "Let's move out." **********It was another perfect day in Byron's perfect life, totally free from unpleasant distractions and simple-minded plebs who weren't worth a moment of his precious time. There was a very grand hotel down the road where he liked to lounge in between classes, and also where he liked to bribe the staff to serve drinks to his obviously underage self, and his morning would have unfolded in the usual way if not for a strange sound that proved to be a very pleasant distraction, the kind he welcomed. Just as he was crossing a slightly snowy road on his way to the hotel, a woman cried out in distress, and he stopped to glance in all directions, searching for the source of the pitiful sound. To his delight, a gorgeous redhead was crouched on the edge of the road, perilously in the way of the prevailing traffic, and also getting her lovely blue and violet dress wet from dragging on the ground. Deep inside Byron's psyche, a bright red flame was sparked at the sight of a very attractive damsel in distress, and as he walked closer, he could easily see the problem, and how to fix it. The heel of her left boot was stuck between the bars of a storm sewer grate. He smirked. "What have we here?" the boy purred, standing over her with his hands warming in the pockets of his overcoat. The stunning creature looked up at him helplessly. There was something slightly exotic about her, especially around the eyes, and it drove him absolutely mad. "I feel like such a fool," she whined in a light but smoky voice as she struggled to free her foot. Byron grinned to himself as the lady's efforts flipped up the hem of her gown, exposing a good three inches of leg above her low-cut boot. "It doesn't look so bad to me," he said, craftily crouching next to her. A sweeping glance all around told him that there wasn't a soul in sight. The conditions were perfect. "All it really needs is a firm, strong grip." "I just can't believe I could do something so idiotic! I should have paid attention to where I was walking!" The woman's apparent lack of self-esteem, despite her beauty, was highly bewitching, in a strange way, as was the little squeal of pain she emitted when she pulled on her left foot a bit too hard. "No, no!" Byron scolded sweetly, wrapping his right hand snugly around her ankle. "You mustn't force it...ease it out with slow, even pressure, or you'll twist it." His voice took on a truly predatory tone, and his eyes burned with a thousand unspoken passions. Now that the actual physical contact was beginning, the red-head pretended to look away bashfully, while she was really checking to make sure that her lookout was still safely but conveniently concealed behind a tree in the distance. She could just see a sliver of Wufei's head, and knew that if she displayed their prearranged 'danger' signal, he'd come running and clean Byron's clock. Turning her attention to the thought of twisting her ankle, Sally looked back at her young visitor and smiled a bit guiltily. "I think I already have..." Byron clucked his tongue, hiding his desire for those ruby red lips less and less. "Well, now...we can't have you walking on it. I'd better carry you somewhere, before you get run over." Sally thought he could probably do it, after mentally comparing his physique to Heero's, but kept playing the shy maiden routine. "Oh...oh, I don't know..." "Now, the longer you stay here, the colder you'll be," Byron cooed condescendingly. As he spoke, he looked around again, then covertly slipped his left hand under her dress as well, luxuriantly stroking the inside of her bare calf while keeping a tight grip on her ankle. His fingers were burning hot against her chilly skin, and he took the lack of a slap in the face as a clear green light to probe further, massaging all the way up to her knee. "There's a hotel around the corner...perfect place to put your feet up and rest awhile..." You are so lucky I'm doing this in the line of duty, Sally snarled inside her head. Outside, however, she was sending out powerfully feminine signals designed to keep Byron occupied as long as possible, as Trowa was counting on him not coming back to the dorm early. "Sounds a bit fishy to me," she purred back. "How do I know I can trust you?" "You'll see how respected I am once we get there, my lovely," said Byron. "They treat me like a king, and if you were by my side, you'd make a breathtaking queen." "Maybe I already have dinner plans," Sally continued, batting her eyelashes. "Cancel them. I wouldn't dream of letting you soil that beautiful mouth with anything but the finest delicacies. In fact..." Byron leaned in closer, piercing her resolve with his lustful eyes, and let his hand crawl even further up her leg. He toyed with the ribbon that tied the cuff of her bloomers tight and deftly slipped his hand under it, kneading and squeezing the flesh of her inner thigh. "...their breakfast menu is beyond reproach. I'd love to treat you to anything you fancy, tomorrow morning." There weren't too many ways to misunderstand an innuendo like that. Sally was a great believer in taking one for the team, but some things, she wasn't interested in taking, least of all from Byron. Even so, keeping Trowa in mind made her pause and weigh the effects of playing along a little while longer versus pointing out to the lad that he was far too young for her, and also that it was far too early to be thinking about the next morning's breakfast, so to speak. "Mister Schaefer!" A gruff but polished gentleman's voice startled them both, and Byron's hands quickly retreated from the depths of Sally's skirt as they both looked up in shock. Having snuck up on them unnoticed, a tall, gray-haired man with neatly-trimmed sideburns was standing over them, peering over the top rim of his spectacles, which sat on the very tip of his prominent nose. His hands were clasped behind his skinny beanpole frame, clearly displaying the black tailcoat and pinstriped pants of the Eton mob. "Must I admonish you yet again for leaving the school grounds without permission!?" he bellowed. Much in the same way that Heero once bowed to Otto's iron will to keep up appearances, Byron was a slave to his House Master. He frowned. "I was just helping this lady with her shoe, sir," he said with unconvincing deference, "as it seems to be lodged in the road somewhat." For the first time, Sally blushed as the old man bent down at the waist and squinted at the contact point between her boot and the sewer grate, strangely compelling her to hold her skirt off the ground again to give him a clear view. He seemed completely immune to the sight of an uncovered leg, and after a brief think, he straightened up again and addressed her rather snobbishly. "Would it not be simpler for madam to remove her foot from her shoe?" Byron and Sally looked at each other with distinct exasperation; both their plans had been ruined. Retreat was now the best option. Sally stood up straight on her right leg and violently wrenched her boot out of the grate, knocking her feathered hat askew from the effort. "Thank you both for your help, but I'm fine," she sniffed, turning and hobbling away as fast as she could. While the House Master marched Byron back to the campus by the scruff of the neck, Wufei appeared some thirty yards away, out from behind the tree, giving Sally a questioning, open-haded shrug, which she returned. There came a point in her diversionary tactics when there was nothing she could do, and that was all there was to it. **********Trowa spent entirely too long deciding on what to do with his hair, and it just ended up springing outward no matter how much he combed it anyway, so he wound up running from his hiding place to Westbury House, mentally formulating excuses for being there along the way. The school population was sizeable, well over a thousand boys of all different ages, so it could be some time, he reasoned, before anyone realized he didn't belong. Trowa was startled to discover, however, that the vast majority of the students were significantly younger and shorter than he was, and he suddenly felt like a stalk of corn in a pumpkin patch. Once he found a few lads his own age, he started poking around casually, chatting with them at length to make them comfortable with his presence, but even at the point when he could move freely about the dorm, a new problem arose. How would he recognize Byron's room even if he found it? There might not have been enough time looming to thoroughly search every single room, for they were both numerous and quite spacious, so he had to use his noggin. If I were looking for Heero's room...the old Heero, that is...what would I look for? The answer was, of course, nothing. Agents travelled light, and if they had anything to hide, it was well-hidden. Trowa began peeking into every doorway, looking for a living space that was plain to the point of being totally Spartan. After only five or so minutes of searching, he found it. He had a funny feeling he'd hit on the right room when he saw a perfectly tidy, well-dusted area with no clutter of personal possessions, and a bunk made to coin-bouncing specifications. Heero said Byron was efficient on the surface, but was occasionally sloppy as a side-effect of his overinflated ego telling him how wonderful he was. Once the hallway was empty of onlookers, Trowa slipped inside, poked his nose into the wardrobe, under the bed, and through every drawer in the creaky old bureau before wondering if perhaps Heero had got it wrong. Then, a fleeting glance at the wastebasket in the corner overturned the snap judgement. Scattered inside the glorified tin bucket were ashes, spent matches, and some scraps of paper. He crouched down for a closer look, and lo and behold, there was a corner of an envelope staring up at him, waving its arms and shouting 'Here I am!' He picked it up and shook off the light coating of ashes. Byron had obviously meant to burn it, as the edges were badly charred, but miraculously, most of the return address was intact, and clearly legible. Heero was right! This guy doesn't take any care in his work. Trowa shuffled through the rest of the ashes, but there seemed to be nothing else of value. I wonder if this is really what we're looking for, or if he just has a pen-pal in... He squinted at the address. ...France? A clunk sounded down the hall. Trowa hastily shoved the scrap of paper in his pocket and stood, just as a group of about eight or nine boys appeared at Byron's door, all wearing those same black tailcoats. They didn't look happy. "Care to explain what you're doing here?" the ringleader said in a clipped accent. The rest of them all glared at Trowa, though many of them couldn't have been more than thirteen. Apparently, Byron had a bit of a fan club. Trowa put on his innocent face. "I was jus--" "This is Byron's room!" one of the younger boys snapped. "What are you doing nosing around!?" a third demanded. "...now, fellas," Trowa said quietly, "I know this looks bad, but there's a perfectly good explana--" "Come off it!" the ringleader shouted. "Old Man Frobisher sent you to spy on Byron because he was accused of cheating on an exam! Admit it!" Before Trowa had any time at all to talk his way out of the minor mess, the boys looked to their collective right and whispered amongst themselves as someone approached from down the hall. Their ranks were parted like the Red Sea, and into their midst stepped Byron himself, fresh from an encounter with the aforementioned 'Old Man Frobisher,' and not in a pleasant mood. He stopped in the centre of his humble room and shot a calculating glare at Trowa; he thought that perhaps he might have seen the cinnamon-haired boy before, but couldn't place him in the correct context. "Who are you?" The fan club didn't give Trowa an opportunity to spout more of his heinous lies. "He's up to no good!" said one. "We caught him snooping!" said another. The increase in atmospheric pressure caused by so many pairs of angry, staring eyes caused all of Trowa's well-planned excuses to squeeze right out of his body and evaporate instantly. "Um...you know, all these houses look pretty much the same, so it's easy to walk into the wrong--" "Everybody out," Byron ordered. "I want to have a private chat with our friend, here." He looked Trowa straight in the eyes only after spotting dark smudges on his fingers, a clear clue that he had been rifling through the trash. When the fan club began filing out, Trowa saw his healthy lifespan getting shorter and shorter. Unwilling to risk being left alone with an angry agent even for a minute, he lunged forward and used his advantage in height to knock Byron over. The fan club wheeled around and swarmed in to help their fallen leader up, and in the moment of confusion, Trowa dashed out the door and down the hall, with angry shouts following him all the way down the stairs. In two blinks, Byron was back on his feet, and giving chase. Leaving the rest of the pack behind, Trowa and Byron shot out of the building and across the grounds. The spacious sporting fields nearby were empty, leaving only twenty yards of scattered snow and half-dead grass between the runners. As expected, Trowa's longer legs were carrying him away much faster, and at the sound of clomping footsteps shattering the morning silence, Quatre poked his head out from behind his hiding hedge and got ready to run as well. In a few seconds, they would be racing around the corner to the Peacecraft family carriage waiting just a block away. Byron had pieced together the sequence of events, and was justifiably livid. Huffing and puffing, he realized he had no hope of catching the interloper, so he would have to stop him some other way. Equidistant between the dormitory and the safety of the hedge, Byron stopped and drew his gun. Acting as the long-range lookout, Heero was concealed behind a decorative rock wall to the north-west, and had both eyes glued to the scene from the beginning, constantly calculating trajectories from the second Trowa appeared. He had guessed correctly that Byron had been issued a service revolver, just as he had, but he refused to give him a chance to use it. In the same instant that Byron took aim at Trowa, Heero sprang up on top of the wall, balanced on one knee, and lined up his shot. A bullet cracked the air, making Trowa panic and duck while he was running, but it came from the north-west, shredding the atmosphere and slicing a thin but painful gash across the top of Byron's hand. He yelped from the burning sting of hot lead against unprotected flesh and dropped his weapon, giving Trowa ample time to make his escape. Now furious beyond belief and in moderate agony, Byron twisted to his right, searching the horizon for his assailant, and saw a brief flash of chocolate brown hair and black overcoat between the trees. Proof or no proof, he knew who it was. Heero got away easily and had a right to be quite pleased with himself, having placed the bullet exactly where it needed to be, no more, no less. He was a crack shot, after all. Trowa, Quatre and Heero met up at the carriage, all running full-speed from different directions, though there was no need; Byron hadn't bothered to follow. Sally was already inside, holding the door open for them, and Wufei was at the reins, having agitated the horses into a mild frenzy so they were sure to take off like four-legged rockets as soon as they were given the order. The team quickly assembled in the carriage, and off they sped, down the street and out of sight. While they all caught their breath, Trowa couldn't help patting down his chest and torso in a frantic search for bullet holes. When he was satisfied that he hadn't been hit, he sat back and rubbed his eyes. "I thought you people weren't supposed to fire your weapons in public!" he gasped. "Byron never cared much for rules," Heero answered, hardly out of breath. "I wish you could have warned me before doing that!" Quatre exclaimed, checking his own pulse on one wrist. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Sally, who was next to Heero in the carriage, took off her hat and started fluffing her hair back into shape, looking guiltily at Trowa. "I'm really sorry. I kept him busy as long as I could..." Trowa waved it off, still panting. "S'okay." Letting the other two recover for a moment, Heero caught Sally's attention with a hand on her arm and the same concerned look as before. "Are you alright?" "...yeah," she exhaled tiredly, rehashing the experience in her head and wondering if she would do it again if she had to. "It's just as well that I didn't know he was armed the whole time, though." They were all so glad to have escaped in one piece each that it took another minute or so for Trowa to remember what he had been searching for. With an expression of slight revelation, he reached a grubby, ash-coated hand into his pocket and took out the battered corner of envelope with the burnt edges. The others all leaned forward to see what he had found, and ignored the rattling and jostling of the carriage ride. "This was all I could come up with," he said, passing the scrap into Heero's hands. Heero examined the artifact and sneered with superiority. "...so careless...see what he's done? He set his drink down on this, leaving a damp ring around the return address that stopped the flame when he tried to burn it. He probably never gave it a second thought." "He did when he saw me," Trowa said. "Where's it from?" asked Quatre. The writing was a bit blurred in places, and a bit smudged in others, and part of it had been seared away, but there was enough left over for Heero to draw a reasonable conclusion. "Normandy, France." They all fell silent. The hope was that finding out where the archival base was would make their whole struggle simpler, but watching it land soundly with a thud in another country somehow made it all seem more complicated than it needed to be, and there was still the possibility that the scrap of envelope had nothing at all to do with Jeffrhyss' organization. For all they knew, Byron could have been receiving love letters from some poor, heartbroken French girl. The only way to find out would mean another long journey, for another time. **********Duo was just about ecstatic to get everyone back home safe and sound, but he wished he had some better news to greet them with. He didn't quite know how to tell everybody that the butcher, the baker, the green grocer, and every other institution that supplied the manor with food were anxious to be paid, and without Otto doling out monthly cheques as per usual, they were now on the verge of cutting off Bridlewood's line of credit. Things were looking grim for Christmas dinner if they couldn't come up with some cash. Still, the brave knights had returned to the castle, and for the moment, all was well in the valley, so he didn't have the heart to break it to them just yet. The evening meal was pleasantly uneventful, and afterwards, everyone toddled off in pairs or groups to let the day wind down in peace. Once Duo finished clearing up, he was all set to curl up in front of a toasty fire with someone special, but there were so many weird vibes floating around the dinner table that he just had to check them out on the quiet. As he crossed the empty kitchen, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder, he tiptoed over to the hall leading to Trowa and Quatre's room, and even though he knew it was wrong, he listened a bit. "...honestly think I wasn't going to make it? I knew what I was getting into." "But when I heard that gunshot, I thought it was all over..." "Hey...I'm here. I'm okay. But y'know...even if I did get shot, I'd rather take that than duck out of the way and let him hit you instead, 'cause that's what might've happened. See?" "...I wasn't sure if you still felt...that way..." "Of course! Whatever else goes wrong between us, I'll always be your friend, and I couldn't stand to see anything happen to you." "Yeah...me too. That's why that shot scared me so badly. I thought for an instant that you could die, and I've never felt anyone die before...never mind someone I was close to..." Duo leaned back and scrunched up his eyebrows. 'Never felt anyone die before'? How the heck do you 'feel' someone dying? Huh. That's weird... Only then was he reminded of how naughty it was to listen in on other people's private, albeit deranged, conversations, and he left them to it, whatever it was. He flung the tea towel on the kitchen table on his way to the stairs, but couldn't help wandering around the first floor in search of another glob of people to eavesdrop of. The three older housemaids were in the parlour, but weren't gabbing about anything relevant. Sally and Lucrezia, however, were having a rather interesting chin-wag in the den, and despite his better judgement, Duo stopped outside the doorway to listen. "...went down to Hampshire today." "Oh, really?" "Mm...I walked all the way around the outside of the country house, banging on every door and window and yelling until my voice gave out from the cold." "Nothing?" "Not a peep. I just don't know...maybe he's not there at all. Maybe I was just fooling myself to think he'd listen to me anyway." "There must be a reason why he won't even write to you, to let you know he's alright." "Knowing Milliardo, he probably thinks he's saving me from some horror too dreadful for me to handle. He should know by now that I've grown just as much as he has. He should be able to trust me with anything." "Don't get yourself down. There's still Christmas to look forward to...he might come home then..." The voice of Lucrezia did not reply to Sally's last remark. Duo felt bad for her. Poor gal...must be awful. Boy, if that guy was here right now, I'd let him have it for upsetting her like that. Or at least, I'd think seriously about letting him have it...seeing as how he's paying our wages an' all. Hey...if the family doesn't come back, we might never get paid again! That would be uncool. Duo slunk away from the den and headed upstairs. On the second floor, he was distracted again from reaching his own room by the most peculiar sounds coming from his right, down the hall in the opposite direction. As he got closer, the sounds became nauseatingly clear as growls, purrs, and sensual moans of delight. Scarier still, it was Wufei's voice that was making them. Remembering what Hilde had confessed to him earlier, Duo was overcome by a sick curiosity and crept closer to the pertinent door, which was firmly shut, and at the same moment, Wufei's vocalizations became more distinct. "You are absolute magic, do you know that?" From somewhere beyond the door, Hilde let out a muffled giggle. There was no stopping Duo's rampaging curiosity now. He crouched down silently and put his eye up to the tantalizing keyhole to peek inside, and was treated to the best view possible of the secret goings-on. There was Wufei, stretched out on the sofa in front of the fire, with his arms slung out to the sides and his head thrown back in ecstasy on the armrest, and kneeling on the floor, just out of his grasp, was Hilde. She was giving him a foot rub. "Awww, did my Pooky have a bad day?" she cooed, pressing her knuckles into his right heel. "Every day's a bad day when you're surrounded on all sides by a sea of mediocrity," he whined. "They don't deserve you." "I know." "You're so sweet to put up with it." "I am." "So tell me...what do you fellas plan to do with that return address?" She dug her thumbs into the soles of his feet and he let out another darling growl before blabbing exactly what had been discussed in the carriage on the way home. At this point, Hilde would have found out anyway, but she so delighted in extracting information from Wufei that she couldn't wait until their next official meeting. Duo stood up and flicked up his eyebrows, impressed. Wow. It really does work. He still didn't think Heero would be all that interested, but at least now he had a visual reference in case of an emergency. Lastly, he headed for his lonely room, which Hilde had been kind enough to scrub down to eliminate any traces of the cold virus. There was a happy surprise waiting for him, however, in the form of Heero bringing back all his necessities from the blue bedroom two doors down. Duo grinned as he watched him replace his pocket watch and waterglass on the bedside table. "You're moving back in!" he cheered. "I know you were trying to be gallant by kicking me out, but I just couldn't sleep in that room," Heero said with a faint crackle of fatigue in his voice. "Maybe it was the gap in the window frame that kept whistling all night..." "Yeah, maybe," Duo said, smiling. Or maybe you just can't sleep without me. "No need to worry, though. I've been feelin' great all day!" It wasn't strictly a lie; he did feel better, physically. He helped Heero move the sofa over to the fireplace, and briefly ran down the situation with their creditors while he lit a spark-filled fire. With the addition of two cushioned footstools to the ensemble, they kicked off their shoes, collapsed on the sofa and warmed their feet side-by-side, relaxed and content. They stayed there for over an hour, and nearly feel asleep leaning on each other several times. At the height of the coziness, Duo coiled his arms around Heero's waist and snuggled up close, then finally gave some thought to his Helen problem. Somehow...I'll have to make her understand that this is too good to give up...that he's too good to let go of. How can something that feels so wonderful possibly be bad? That thought was lingering on his mind for the rest of the time they spent in front of the fire, and stayed with him all night, even in sleep. **********Well after midnight, in a lonely country estate in Hampshire, weary Milliardo sat up in a weathered old armchair, gazing out the window with the kind of melancholy one doesn't come across too often. The simple unpleasantness of being separated from Lucrezia had ended, and a deep depression was setting in. During the day, he and the others, Relena, Otto, and Pegan, hid themselves deep in the centre of the massive building, afraid that anyone who got too close would find themselves as badly entangled in the colossal plot, as they were, but at night, Milliardo planted himself in front of any window he could, and stared. Forever concerned with the health and well-being of his charges, Pegan stayed up just as late, and brought him a brandy on a tray, comforting him the only way he knew how. Milliardo looked slightly to the right as Pegan appeared beside him, and took the wide goblet off the tray after gazing forlornly at it. "You heard? This afternoon, all around the house?" If young Master Peacecraft was referring to the sad sounds of Miss Lucrezia knocking furiously on all the doors and windows, calling over and over for him to please come out and talk to her, Pegan was painfully aware. "Yes, sir." "She came too close, today. I can't risk letting her in, no matter how much it hurts us both. I only wish Relena didn't have to be involved." "If I may say so, sir," the elderly butler begged, "both yourself and Miss Relena have displayed amazing fortitude during this ordeal, in my opinion. You should remember, however, that she has already had to be just as strong as you must be now, when she was agonizing over whether to involve you or not. I think the girl deserves a great deal of credit." Milliardo looked up with a bit of worry. "Is she asleep?" "I believe so, sir." "Good...she needs her rest. Whatever's to come, she can't afford to damage her health." Pegan raised one of his bushy eyebrows, and his moustache twitched with humour. "Certainly not...staying up all night, staring out the windows and drinking brandy simply wouldn't do." Milliardo almost smiled at the comment; in fact, he wished he could. "Point well taken, Pegan." He stood, drained his glass, and set it back down on the butler's tray. "She'd never forgive me if I fell ill from worrying about her." They both walked slowly and despondently out of the unnamed room and into the hall, where Pegan saw Milliardo as far as the main staircase, then stopped. "It is...a most noble thing, sir," he ventured humbly. "What is?" "The sacrifice of one's happiness for the good of humanity. I think perhaps His Lordship would have been proud of you both." A smile finally teased at Milliardo's down-turned mouth, and he clapped Pegan lightly on the shoulder. "We can only hope so." After that, they went their separate ways and retired for the night. There would be yet another busy day ahead, full of financial reckonings, travel plans, and the search for answers to the ultimate question--what to do about the Cinq Association. |
~~~~~~~~~~
| Next, in Episode Sixty-Eight: The team takes a gamble and heads for France, where the truly unknown awaits. Relena has a painfully honest discussion with her elders, during which some harsh realities must be forced into the light of day. |
...*looks at Hilde* ...*looks at Wufei* ...*looks at the readers looking at her* ...what? You thought they were doing something else with their free time? Well, I certainly don't have a lewd imagination, unlike some people. =P *GUFFAW* =^_~= Aaah, I'm just kiddin' ya! You people know I'm an awful tease, that's why you love me, right? *grin* Okay, everybody's gearing up for the holidays, but I'm not slowing down, not one bit. Next eppy will be on December 14th, so be ready! =) Oh, and while you're waiting, there was just no way to really do justice to Eton in the space of one episode, so I hope you'll all check out their Website ( http://www.etoncollege.com ), which features, among other many interesting things, a scale map of the grounds so you can see the route our heroes and heroine took to catch Byron! Tons of info there! See ya!