Disclaimer: If the Easter Bunny gave anyone any chocolate pilots, I wanna know about it. =P (Oh, and, all the best characters in this story were made by someone else, darnit. So don't sue me.)
~~~~~~~~~~Episode Eighty-One: Looking Glass
"The secret of happiness is not in doing what one likes, but in liking what one has to do." ~James M. BarrieMay 10th, 1903
At two in the morning, Heero woke with the biggest screaming migraine yet. It felt like someone had drilled a red hot fireplace poker straight through his left eye and was twisting it viciously. In spite of the unimaginable pain, loss of vision and ringing in his ears, he made not a sound as he felt his way downstairs in his pajamas, and for a while, he wasn't sure where he was. He ended up standing at the door to the kitchen after only one set of stairs, instead of the three or four he was subconsciously expecting, and then it struck him that he was at the pub, not Bridlewood.
Fighting the blurry coloured lights that speckled his sight even in the darkness, he fumbled quietly behind the counter for Catherine's first-aid kit, from which he removed not one but two packets of salicylic acid, his old crutch. Gulping down the contents of both packets at once in a shallow glass of water, he tried futilely to decide where the crippling headaches, which seemed to be increasing in both frequency and intensity, were coming from. He had fewer responsibilities, fewer obligations, fewer demands on his time than ever before. And yet, he felt wretched.
After wincing and scowling at the bitter concoction he had just forced down his throat, he looked around for some instant relief, and happened upon a bottle of sherry, a costly and therefore better variety than usual, which Catherine kept hidden for important customers. At that moment, Heero couldn't think of a more important or needier customer than himself, so he poured himself a large shot glass-full. It didn't occur to him at all that he was stealing liquor, as the landlady might have thought if she appeared suddenly in the doorway, but unlike Duo, Heero didn't automatically label stealing as 'wrong' or 'immoral'. To a spy, theft was either necessary, or it was not, and as long as the veins inside his head insisted on painfully constricting to the point where sleep was impossible, it was very necessary.
Heero raised the tiny glass and as he turned, got a glimpse of himself in the large mirror hanging behind the bar, serving the decorative purpose of making the room seem bigger than it actually was. He froze briefly, staring at the dark-haired stranger. He'd had a bit less than three years to get used to that face, having hardly ever been allowed to see himself as he grew up, save in a puddle of water or the top of a highly-polished wooden desk. He occasionally wondered what he had looked like at age four, age seven, age twelve.
...as if knowing who I was then would tell me who I am now.
Heero downed the sherry in one gulp, cleaned the glass, and put it back in the exact place where he had found it under the counter. Perhaps he did know why he was getting so many headaches, on some level, but becoming consciously aware of it meant looking deep inside himself, and it wasn't pretty in there. Best to just get upstairs before the different chemicals he had just consumed had a chance to blend in his bloodstream and knock him flat. He tiptoed back to his bed and thought no more about it, for awhile.
**********In retrospect, Hilde should have seen it coming. If she was going to crouch down on all fours beside the bed in one of the guest suites to clear the dust bunnies out from underneath, she should have closed the bedroom door first, and if she was going to stay in that position for more than two minutes, she certainly should have locked it. Something ominous was creeping up on her from behind, something that trod lightly and breathed even lighter, to avoid detection. Eventually, the creeping beast attacked, inflicting a brief but extraordinarily painful squeeze upon poor Hilde's derrière. Naturally, she screeched.
Anyone standing outside within earshot of the bedroom doorway would have heard a sickening thump as the housemaid banged her head on the underside of the bedframe, followed by cursing, shouting, a vigorous slapping noise, and a tumble of overturned furniture. Amid the ruckus, Tristan the footman came barreling out of the bedroom like his shoes were on fire, and Hilde quickly followed, spewing mild obscenities and brandishing her feather duster like a weapon as she chased him down the hall.
There was some difficulty to be had, however, with running in a long dress, so Tristan got away with his crime, leaving Hilde to pat her sore behind and trudge back to the bedroom to clean up the mess, muttering under her breath. The new staff arrangements weren't working out at all, to her mind.
She hastily put the bedroom back together and temporarily abandoned her chores, fleeing to the cramped servants' stairwell that led to the kitchen. She hardly got to spend any time there anymore, and knew she was likely to be told off if she was caught lounging there instead of working, but thought that if she could just perch halfway down the stairs, just for a little while, she would gain a small sense of calm and only be bending the rules to get it. When she snuck into the stairwell, she saw that someone else had been hatching the same plan. Duo was sitting on a step geographically positioned halfway between the cellar and the first floor, hunched over and staring down the steps with his chin and arms resting on his propped-up knees. His braid dragged lifelessly on the step behind him, picking up who knows how many varieties of dirt. He looked pitiful.
Hilde gathered up her skirts and sat on the step next to him, on his left-hand side, slouching a bit to match him. "So, who're you hiding from?"
"Queen of the Vampires," Duo mumbled, barely moving. "You?"
"Doberman Pincher," Hilde answered.
Duo sighed instead of nodding so he didn't have to move in order to agree with her. "He's got quite a grip, hasn't he?" Hilde didn't answer, as no answer was needed. "Do you get the feeling we're not wanted around here?"
"I feel very wanted," said Hilde, "Just by the wrong people, that's all."
"I mean the whole idea of bringing in new people, not just what kind of people Otto picked." Duo paused for thought. "Although, it's hard not to imagine an ulterior motive in hiring Merlyn. He might not care whether you quit or not, but he definitely wants me gone."
"You're not going to give him the satisfaction, are you?" Hilde asked in a militant tone. Otto had long cherished stern feelings of resentment for Heero and Duo as a matching set, and when the persecution flared up, at least they had each other to lean on. She worried that without adequate support, Duo would give in to the pressure.
"No way," he affirmed. "I can't afford to quit. Everything I've got now is going towards Helen's medicine. Otto doesn't know it, but he's got me trapped here until I'm absolutely positive she's got her health back."
Hilde cooed at him adorably and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You're so sweet! I hope Heero realizes what a nice guy he's got!"
Duo looked away briefly. "Yeah, me too..."
His voice wasn't supposed to sound that sad when talking about his soul mate, Hilde thought to herself. She squinted. "Something wrong between you two?"
"Just the usual," the chef moaned. "We hardly have any time together, and when we do, there's never any privacy. Makes it kinda hard to.....y'know.......stuff..." His voice faded away as he tried to bury his chin further down into his folded arms, preferring not to go into intricate detail.
Hilde dropped her head down onto his shoulder and sighed along with him. She desperately wanted the two of them to be happy together, partly so she could fulfill her sickest fantasies and live vicariously through them both, so she honestly felt a portion of his pain. "It can't last forever...sooner or later, something's bound to get better. Good things always happen to nice people, in my experience, and it's lucky for you that you've always been at the top of my 'nice' list."
Duo wished he could return the pleasant sentiment, but just then, he was too clouded with rage and disappointment. He scowled. "This is all Relena's fault. If she hadn't gone poking her uppity little nose where it shouldn't have been, Heero would probably still have a job, and life around here would be infinitely closer to being bearable."
Hilde rubbed his arm a bit. "I know.....wonder what she's doing right now..."
"Probably sunning herself on the patio of her big, fancy country house."
"...yeah...sipping lemonade and eating raspberry tarts..."
"...bought from a bakery," Duo added snidely. He still had a hard time accepting that anyone could eat well without him, which was made worse by being constantly on the defensive with Merlyn around. "She sure has got it easy out there. Hope she's enjoying herself."
Hilde hummed in agreement, and they stayed hidden in the staircase a little while longer, reluctant to re-integrate themselves into the hostile environments waiting above and below them.
**********Most people in Southampton who had the affluence and leisure time to do so were out enjoying the sunshine in between the spring rains. There were a thousand and one things to do when the weather was fine, and the well-to-do liked to pack in as much fun as possible between dawn and dusk. It was only natural to want to do so.
There were a few residents, however, who were far too busy for such trivial things, and one young lady in particular who hadn't seen the sun in weeks. For days and days, Relena hardly left the confines of Sutherby House as she oversaw renovations. There was no public announcement that the glorious old estate was being gutted in a multitude of places, simply a few private and confidential calls to reliable contractors who had been parading in and out of the building ever since her return from Morocco. The house was being updated for some secret purpose, and only a tiny circle of people knew what was going on.
She sat, as usual, in the inner sanctum library with no windows, growing ever paler as she crunched numbers by flickering orange gaslight. There were so many things to keep track of and every one of them seemed absolutely critical. Relena felt that she had to do it all, because that was the only way it was going to get done properly. So focused was the girl on her furious pencil-scratching that she failed to notice Lucrezia entering the library until she was standing right in front of Relena's work table. Eventually she glanced up, re-rolled up the sleeves of the plain beige peasant dress she wore, but then kept right on working. "What can I do for you?" she asked in a bland tone.
Lucrezia looked tired, but not as tired. She too had been putting in some long hours, but for every hour she used to work out battle strategies, she spent two simply reuniting with her beloved. It left her with a very healthy, rosy glow, a dreadful contrast to Relena's prison pallor. "I wondered if we could talk."
"I'm really very busy right now--"
"It'll only take a moment..."
With a churlish pout, Relena eventually put her pencil down and sat back in her chair with her arms sternly folded. Though she didn't feel that she was actively and purposely making Miss Noin feel unwelcome, it happened all the same. It had been happening since Morocco, when her brother unilaterally announced that Lucrezia was joining the team. Walking around to the guarded side of the table, Lucrezia gathered up her white lace-trimmed dress of darkest possible turquoise and perched on the edge, looking down at Relena like a non-threatening but quick-with-an-honest-opinion aunt. "Now, tell me why you're pushing me away."
Relena blinked innocently, still looking down at the desk. "I'm not."
"We were practically best friends a few months ago," said Lucrezia. "Now you're keeping secrets stacked on top of secrets...aren't you dying to tell me what this is all about, like you would anything else?"
"Why don't you ask my brother?" Relena snarked.
Lucrezia leaned down towards her, propped up on one arm with the other draped across her lap, displaying a tiny, whimsical smile. "I'd rather hear it from you."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
Relena's neck muscles tensed up and then released, briefly exposing angry cords carrying tension up and down her form. "Because I can't stop wondering whether or not I can trust you," she said sharply. "I started losing faith in people when I found out about the Cinq Association...and then to find out that you were working for one of them--"
"I was a prisoner," Lucrezia reminded her with equal acerbity. "Lord Jeffrhyss used my fear of being discovered by my family as leverage to keep me as his office girl, and I hardly think that counts as employment."
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Relena countered desperately. "How do I know anyone's telling me the truth anymore? For all I know, you could have plotted all of this out very carefully just to lure my brother into a trap! How can I believe you or anyone else after what I've been through?"
It was a sad reality, that the poor girl had been through so much, and that the damage to her trust might have been irreparable, but Lucrezia held out hope for the scrap of confidence that might have remained. "There's probably nothing I can do or say that will change your mind except see our problems through to the finish. Until then...you're in a bit of a spot, because you've got no one else to talk to. Certainly, Milliardo's a fine conversationalist, when he gets going...but you'll never have a 'girl chat' with him, not like you and I used to have..." She saw her argument beginning to take effect and smiled a wily smile, knowing she was striking at Relena's biggest weakness--the need to network. "Milliardo and I are going to be married one day, which means you and I will be sisters.....and sisters shouldn't be this way with each other. If your own brother can trust me, I think you should too."
A calming defeat was settling in around Relena. She did miss talking to people. The workmen were off-limits to her because of their social stature, Otto was gone, Pegan was too old to understand most of her viewpoints, and her brother, try as he might to make her happy, was still just a man. She hadn't had a good gossip session in so long, and had so little except the house to gossip about, that she felt ready to burst if she didn't find someone to drench in her most valuable information. Swayed ever so subtly by Lucrezia's debating technique, Relena smiled widely, shifted giddily in her chair and leaned forward, sitting up quite straight and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "It's all rather exciting, actually...it's been awful not being able to share it with my friends."
Lucrezia hopped off the edge of the table and pulled up a chair next to her. "Tell me all about it."
"Well!" After rubbing her hands together gleefully, Relena turned to her left where a stack of papers decorated the table top, and pulled out several large sheets from the bottom, spreading them out flat before her. They appeared to be architectural drawings, and there were quite a lot of them. "This house has been in my family for generations, but we've hardly used it in recent years. Aside from occasional parties and spending the winters when we felt like it, we rarely bothered with it even when Father was alive, so I don't think he'd protest if we put it to good use. To make it into the Cinq Association, we need a steady income, something that's gone downhill over the last few years. Father's investments were frittered away, and I know it was a mistake putting the finances in Uncle Treize's hands...he probably helped himself to whatever he felt was his share along the way.
"Since our net worth is a bit limited, we've decided to use the resources we already have," she added, turning over to a newer, more complicated drawing that made assumptions about what the renovated house would look like, all while peppering her speech with enthusiastic little hand twirls. "We're turning this place into a luxury hotel and conference centre, with a bit of a health spa thrown in, and lots of outdoor activities! We have the financial backing of some of the family's closest friends, in exchange for special perks, and adding that to our gold reserves and a minor loan from the bank, we'll just be able to finish the renovations, hire some staff, and officially open in the fall, in time to welcome the seasonal crowd. It's the new money we're after...businessmen and investors who can't trace their lineage back for centuries. The Empire will never be the way it was before, where the oldest power always won out...but instead of fighting it, we've got to take advantage of it, by attracting the newly wealthy who don't have summer homes to go to yet. That's the plan so far, and I do believe we're going to meet our deadline."
"Sounds impressive," said Lucrezia, and the tension level in the room finally hit bottom. They were on speaking terms again, which was good, but it was only half of the work she had to do to get the Peacecrafts sorted out properly. During the remainder of her conversation with Relena, during which she smiled and chatted and did everything girlfriends were supposed to do, she was amassing a second strategy to use on someone else, because a lot of harmful ideas were floating around Sutherby House, and they weren't being swept away with the workmen's dust.
**********Three times in the past week, Heero had tried to sneak up on Bridlewood to see Duo, but someone had gotten wise about the cellar window trick and squealed to Otto, and there were suddenly some very prickly hedges getting in his way. It would have been easier to scale the brick wall at the back property line, but that meant creeping across the lawn in broad daylight, or waiting until after dark, and with the days getting longer, no sooner would he be over the wall and up to the house then it would practically be time to turn around and head back to the pub. He was finally getting a glimpse into the tough travelling times Duo had been complaining about all along.
The best solution was still for Heero to find a job, and then find a place to live that was closer to the Manor, but even after taking Catherine's advice he wasn't having much success. He scoured the commercial neighbourhoods closest to Bridlewood, five blocks in all directions, but only ever got as far as his name and a convoluted description of his work experience to date before the prospective employer lost interest. Perhaps it was his age that was scaring them away, or his accent--he couldn't be sure what error he was committing, even when he tried to be sweet as sugar to them. It left him awfully discouraged, and more out-of place than he had ever felt before. Never in the years he had been working for Jeffrhyss had he ever been made to feel like he didn't belong.
What am I doing wrong? he wondered, walking across a bridge that spanned a creek somewhere in the suburbs with his hands in his pockets. I've done everything Catherine said...'Smile and tell them your name, firm handshake, list your credentials, maintain eye contact, speak clearly and...' The last of Catherine's words of wisdom got lost for awhile, and then snapped back to echo soundly over and over. ...and be yourself.
There was no self to be. That might have been the problem.
Heero stopped mid-way across the bridge, ignoring the sunny day, the green grass, the blue water, and the twittering birds, and leaned over the edge to look at his distant reflection, rippled and faded like a projection on a stained glass window. They don't want anything to do with me, because they don't know me...and I can't tell them who I am, because...I don't know either.
He thought as long as he had Duo to tell him what he should be feeling, and had some idle task with which to occupy himself, it would be enough. But it wasn't enough. Since he was old enough to hold a firearm, there had been a higher purpose designed for him, and in the act of taking a potshot at his master, he threw it all away. His bridges were severely scorched now, and even if he had been able to keep his job at Bridlewood, it was a temporary solution at best. How any ordinary person could find and keep a higher purpose comparable to the one he once owned was beyond him, and that oversight was what ultimately set him apart. Until he could learn to simply exist like them, he would never be one of them; as long as he equated this with squashing himself into the same tiny box as everyone else, he would remain in an even smaller box.
Pushing himself off the stone edge of the bridge, he walked swiftly back toward town, looking for a distraction before he gave himself another crushing headache. Fate could have led him in any direction, but after following the one he randomly chose for about half an hour, he started to see familiar blurs that seemed out of place. There were two, one tall and well-dressed, and the other slight with jet black hair. He tailed them at a distance through various city streets, long enough to determine that one of them was following the other, and the blur that was being targeted had no idea of it. As Heero edged closer to the slim blur in white, he realized with some surprise that it was Wufei.
Wufei was dressed in his usual plain white garments, except for sturdier shoes than he normally wore. Feeding his obsession, he had been watching Treize like a hawk and had followed him on one of his routine trips into town, taking down notes in a little notebook with his standard-issue retractable pen. While Trieze was busy in an ultra-fashionable tie boutique, off on another tangent of propping up his ego by adorning himself in the finest of everything, Wufei paused across the busy street, in the narrow alley between two tall brownstones. Still, even while he was heavily engaged in watching the store window while Treize tried on a few dozen silk ascots, he was aware of a presence behind him, and laughed his most mocking inner laugh at the approaching force attempted to sneak up on him. Fool! he thought, and he spun in place, aiming a fist at the approximate location of the intruder's head. It was expertly deflected into the brick wall faster than he could wince at the pain of his scraped knuckles, and he growled as Heero's face came into focus.
"Don't do that!!" he snarled.
Heero smirked. "Do what?"
"Some people shouldn't be allowed to have free time," Wufei murmured before turning back to focus on the window.
"Just what I was thinking." Heero looked over his rival's shoulder at the store window, saw Treize, and leaned back to look at the back of Wufei's head with a peculiar sense of pity. "How long have you been at this, exactly?"
"Long enough to establish a reliable pattern of behaviour," Wufei crowed, jotting steadily in his notebook. "I know what time Treize gets up in the morning, where he buys his newspapers, right down to which way he turns out of the front door when he goes on his evening walk. When I decide to take action, he won't suspect a thing. And then I'll pounce..." He trailed off, totally absorbed in the thrill of voyeurism. He didn't even know that he had just blabbed his master plan to the one person who was in a significant position to stop him.
Heero stared at him sadly. That used to be me, he thought, unable to tell whether he missed it or not. At least Wufei had something to do, even if it stemmed from an unhealthy inner haunting. Look at him...he doesn't have official orders or even an endorsement from Jeffrhyss. He's completely cut off from the power structure, and yet he keeps on at his 'work'. As he watched Wufei furiously jotting, he realized something else, something that made him twitch. No one's come after him, to reclaim him. No one's come looking for me since Morocco, either. I thought they would have by now, but they haven't. Could they have lost interest in us completely? ...in Wufei, perhaps...but Jeffrhyss has good reason to haul me in for punishment, whether I claim to belong to him or not. Why hasn't he made his move? What's he waiting for?
Minutes ticked by, with Wufei still jotting and Heero still puzzling, until he dared to tap Wufei on the shoulder. "Do you keep in touch with any of your old contacts?"
Wufei didn't turn around. "A few. Why?"
I'm not sure yet...still thinking. "Do any of them try to keep in touch with you for a reason?"
"Not really. If I need something, I look them up. They're usually willing to do me a favour, for a price."
Establishing that Wufei wasn't totally out of the loop finished off the calculations in Heero's head, and he rubbed the fingers of one hand together briskly as he delved further. "Could you do something for me?"
"Ha! Why?"
Heero chose to ignore that. "I was hoping you could keep your ear to the ground...listen for chatter among other agents, if you happen to be around any."
Mild curiosity kept Wufei from brushing off the request, but he still wasn't ready to show actual interest by turning around. "What am I listening for, exactly."
"...my name," said Heero. "My...status. If they're discussing me on any level, I want to know about it." I might get advance warning if there's still danger ahead, and if there's nothing...maybe that's what's holding me back with Duo. Maybe I'm worried about unfinished business that could put him...put us both in danger. Maybe I can't relax until I know, one way or the other.
Wufei shrugged. "I suppose I could...but I'm not guaranteeing I'll come up with anything."
That was about as amiable as Wufei got. Heero smiled slightly at the back of his head, clapped him on the shoulder, and left him to his studies. If he hadn't been so focused on his own problems, he might have really heard the talk about pouncing on Treize and done something about it, but it slipped his mind completely. They parted without another word, or another thought.
**********Of course, Lucrezia already knew about the plans to turn the country house into a hotel and health spa, but it was worth hearing the epic saga a second time if it meant that she and Relena were friends again. Next, she had to sort out the other sibling, and she had a feeling that this one would be much more difficult.
During the renovation process, certain areas of the house were being set aside as 'staff only', and the areas that would be needed by the family were included. The library, main bedrooms, downstairs kitchen area and a host of other rooms were invisbly marked out as forbidden to visitors, and some rooms were already being rapidly transformed for the family's use. One of these was an old sitting room that had long ago had its furniture removed for fear of rising damp due to a hairline crack in the foundation, right under the window. Milliardo had it gutted, had new flooring installed, had the walls stripped of their decorative wallpaper, and turned it into a miniature gymnasium, with just enough room for himself and one sparring partner, if he could ever find one; if he was going to fight amongst the veterans of Cinq, plain old army training probably wouldn't be enough to help him. He spent almost as much time in that gym working on his fighting technique as Relena spent in the library, trying to make columns of numbers add up properly.
In recent weeks, he had gone from boxing to fencing to target shooting, basically everything he had already learned in some form from his army days but at a much higher level. He brought in a series of experts on one-to-one combat to help perfect his style, and when he felt he had exhausted their resources, he branched out into more exotic forms of individual warfare. Now he was practicing with a long wooden staff, swinging and jabbing at an imaginary opponent, dressed in a loose-fitting bathrobe-like garmet of white terry cloth, and no shoes. Lucrezia thought it was similar to what Heero wore in his own gym, but it was somehow less authentic. After a long, choreographed series of blows with the staff that covered the entire length and breadth of the polished hardwood floor, he brought the wooden rod down sharply with a solid 'thwap', crushing the skull of an imaginary enemy. He then rose from his crouch, gazing at the floor, and stalked off in another direction, fuming at himself. "Not good enough."
Lucrezia had been leaning against the doorway the entire time, watching with her arms folded. If it had occurred under any other circumstance, she might have found the display of raw, male, muscular prowess quite alluring, but it was kept under a dark cloud of conspiracy that forever tainted it in her eyes. "How are you supposed to know what 'good enough' is?"
"I just know," he said, pacing back and forth with the staff dragging behind him. It was times like this when it could be very difficult to get a read on his emotions. His smoky voice rarely changed timbre even under extreme duress, which meant that a person could push him over the brink of self-control without any audible warning.
Still, Lucrezia was confident that no matter how angry he got, he would never strike her, so she pressed forward. "You need to talk to Relena about this. She's taking on way too much responsibility, and it's costing her."
"I can't discourage her from doing what she feels needs to be done."
"'Needs to be done'!" she mocked in frustration. "I don't care about 'needs to be done,' I'm worried about her feeling she has to do it all! I've already tried talking you out of this damn fool adventure of yours, and it didn't work, so I won't try it again. I know I can call you crazy a million times to your face for trying this, and it won't do a bit of difference, so don't get defensive on me."
Milliardo stopped his pacing and actually sighed a sigh tinged with anger, a rare display indeed. He turned to face the doorway, looking her in the eye for the first time. "What exactly do you want to know?"
"I want to know if you've both thought this through as well as you say you have. Joining up with those...those...mercenaries and terrorists...that's not how a girl of sixteen should be spending her energy. She should be going to soirées with that Marcus boy, and gabbing to her friends about the latest fashions, not organizing a plot to unbalance the power structure of the world!"
"You want me to send her away when I'm the only family she has left?"
"I want you to cut her loose!" Their escalating voices echoed back from the hallway, and it startled Lucrezia into calming down, lest Relena hear them arguing. "You and I can do this now. She doesn't have to have any part of it. And wouldn't you rather know she's safe somewhere else instead of dealing directly with the likes of Lord Jeffrhyss?"
"Would she really be safe?" Milliardo shook his head morosely. "No...the safest place for her to be is where I can protect her, and don't tell me I'm keeping her here for my own benefit, either. She was involved long before either of us, so she feels she has a right to confront the people who turned her life upside-down. If it weren't for Cinq, our father's murder wouldn't have been necessary. We both have a right to this." As he let his final word sink in, he turned away, raised the quarter staff to the attack position at the start of his choreographed training sequence, and ended the argument there. "My instructor will be here this afternoon to gauge my progress. I have to get back to work."
He went straight into his succession of jumps, kicks, blows, and jabs, and Lucrezia watched for a little while, just in case he decided to re-open the topic, since she couldn't do it herself when he was in a mood like this. Soon, she gave up altogether. She thought she might try again the next day, or the day after that, because she wasn't convinced that the Peacecraft siblings were necessarily doing the right thing. After hearing the extended explanation from Milliardo weeks before, not just about the renovations but about everything, she decided it was totally unsafe, and that they were both headed down the road to disaster.
~~~~~~~~~~
Next, in Episode Eighty-Two: Duo gets a visit from an old friend, and it sends him into a downward spiral of guilt, while Heero believes he's pinpointed the secret to getting hired. Quatre receives news from abroad on the fate of his family.
It's Mother's Day tomorrow! =^_^= I hope you've all arranged for your cards/gifts/flowers/special dinners, because it's a little late now. =P *lol* I got my Mom some pretty soaps and hand lotion from the Body Shop, and my brother got her some nifty earrings and perfume. Now we just have Father's Day to shop for...hm... *eyes Future Shop* Anyway! The new temporary site is working out not too badly, a pop-up here and there but overall, not a problem. We DO plan to move to permanent quarters eventually (might not be for a couple months, though) and then we'll be able to do a total site makeover because we won't have those stinkin' ads getting in the way! =^o^= Next episode will be May 24th, and that will be Bridlewood's SECOND ANNIVERSARY! YAAAAAY! ...don't be expecting a huge episode as a form of celebration, though. =P Just a normal-sized one will do, I think. Hm...also... *looks at one of our happy couples* ...I'm wondering whether or not I'll have to slightly raise the rating on this fic soon...it's a possibility that we might surpass PG-13 very shortly... =}