Tapestry - Chapter 8
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I had restless dreams.
In one, I was back on the shuttle when it crashed. Klaxons shrieked throughout the ship, emergency lights flashed, and the faint stench of acrid smoke wafted onto the bridge. The slightest movement on my part brought instant agony, but a relentless, driving need to know what happened to my people pushed me to painfully turn my head.
I came face to face with the dead and dying.
Above me was my second in command, sprawled across the navigator's console, his head cocked at an unnatural angle, not moving. Blood dripped down his arm and slowly dribbled to the floor. A large pool of it was under his chest, next to some horrendous electrical burns. Shifting my gaze to the side, I recognized the Trunda twins – engineering geniuses both – huddled in a fatal last embrace, crushed under a cabinet, their twined hands with their distinctive signet rings the only identifying feature. And finally, moving my eyes to assess my own damage, I looked down at my legs and saw shredded clothing soaked in blood, and bone, and boots that were a gruesome, mangled mess. The pain in my head was tremendous, and it hurt to breathe.
Damn.
A sensation of lassitude started to blunt the pain; euphoria slowly seeped into my bones. Concussion and shock, I decided, clinically analyzing my symptoms – I've lost a lot of blood. Probably too much … which meant...
Heavy steps pounded into the command room, shaking the floor, jarring me mercilessly. Shouts and orders rang out, competing with the klaxons for attention. Boots that looked polished and lustrous and had that slight smell of disinfectant clinging about them clomped into my line of sight, stopping just half a meter away from my face. Squinting against a suddenly bright light, my gaze traveled up from the heels of the boots to where dark green pants were tucked into their tops. Who those boots belonged to, though, was anyone's guess; but from all the clues, I figured I knew who they were.
They were soldiers from OZ, come to count the bodies.
And Une must be here, too, I realized. Let us die in peace, you bitch. Go gloat somewhere else. Give us our last vestige of dignity.
"Here – corpsman, over here!" her familiar voice snapped imperiously. "Start procedures on this one right away. Treize-sama commanded that everyone be saved, but that the officers were to take precedence – and Po looks pretty bad."
You don't know the half of it, you idiot...I'm wrapped in a haze of endorphins. I'm dying.
And then Une was there, towering over me, eyeing my bloodied legs dispassionately. "If it were up to me, Po, I'd kill you right now. You are trash – nothing but rebel scum who deserves no less. However, Treize-sama ordered that everyone be taken alive and evacuated to the closest medical facility. 'Pay special attention to the officers,' he said – and I can do no less."
Une stared down into my eyes, her internal conflict with what she knew she should do and what her precious Treize-sama ordered her to do written plainly across her face. And seeing that, I had a sudden, uncontrollable urge to giggle hysterically. It didn't come out that way, I know - it probably sounded more like a wet, raspy breath - but it really didn't matter, because any indecision was wiped clean as if by magic from Une's eyes. She scowled, leaned down and put her ear next to my lips, close enough that if I had the strength I could have bitten her earlobe off; as it was, I had to summon the strength from every reserve I had just to whisper three defiant words into her ear.
"Won't ... get ... me," I breathed, closing my eyes with a satisfied smile.
A slight gasp, followed by an angry, "Hurry, man – hurry! If she dies, so will you –" followed me as my world faded to black.
Warm darkness enveloped me with welcoming arms as I slipped down and away, moving quickly into unconsciousness, now completely unaware of the surrounding turmoil. Heh. Too bad, Une … death cheated you again...
Just as suddenly as the darkness claimed me, it gave me up to the light, thrusting me toward consciousness again. Other new, strange sensations came with a feeling of not-quite drowning in the dark.
I realized I was running – running hard, and running fast, and running as if my life depended upon it, legs kicking through waist high grass, breath catching painfully in my lungs, sprinting towards – something. Something that I couldn't see, but something that was just at the edge of the meadow, at the edge of my vision, right where the forests' barrier of russet and gold leaves met the meadow's tawny wall of grass.
I had no time, though, to admire the beauty of fall, because my world had shrunk to the size of the path under my feet. That path was faintly delineated on the ground; it had diverged from another, more heavily traveled track. It wasn't clear, though, that ANY marked route actually led to Sanctuary - or what I thought was Sanctuary, the place I wanted to go, the place at the edge of the meadow.
It didn't matter how I got there, just that I did. I had to protect the child I was holding; I had to deliver my charge into safe hands.
Sanctuary was at the horizon, I could see it - and once I reached it, I knew I'd be able to put the child down in safety, the child I held so tightly in my arms. Looking down at the baby for a moment, I glimpsed solemn, dark Asian eyes under wispy black hair looking back at me, one small fist waving gently outside the swaddling clothes, a vague image of translucent black and red colors swirling around his fist. I shifted his weight, snuggling him against my chest, next to my pounding heart, and dug deep to find other stores of energy to help my burning muscles work even harder.
I was not just running because I enjoyed it. There was something chasing me - or rather, someone - ancient and deadly, huge, winged, someone who wanted the child as fiercely as I wanted to protect him. He reached out with lazy grace, warm strong fingers ready to tear the child away, fingers that were merciless in their assault on my person and dignity, my mind and body, fingers that poked and pried and pressed their way into parts of my body and soul that I never knew existed.
They reached out to grab and trip and rend and sunder and eventually to force me to stumble and fall and give up the child to him …
NO!
Screaming, I fell to the ground as those fingers forced their way first into my mind and then into soul. As I fell, I flung the boy as far away from me as I could, hoping against hope that someone else was watching, and that they had seen me fall and would find the boy and would take him in and shelter him and protect him before –
- pain - gods, such tearing, horrible pain - starbursts flashed in front of my eyes. Then I was gasping for air, spiraling down and down, farther and farther -
.....until my eyes snapped open and I sat straight up in bed, panting.
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I opened my eyes to sunlight streaming across the bed and splashing down the sides of the walls, an incomplete master painting. Part of my brain acknowledged the cleverness of the architect who constructed bedrooms where sunlight could pour through windows like honey but never touch the face of the person in the bed. The other part - the part that was interested in my survival - kept my body upright and rigid as I continued to pant, slowly coming out of that dream stupor as I registered where I was.
Alive, not dead. In Luxembourg, not somewhere else. And under house arrest - the prisoner of Treize Khushrenada, being held with Chang Wufei. Plus, this was Tuesday, the second day of my imprisonment. At least the second day I remembered.
I could hear birds chirping. Not like yesterday, though - not as loud, and certainly not as insistent, but right there, outside the windows. It sounded lovely. Calming. Peaceful.
Good. I needed calm and peaceful right now.
My heart rate was returning to normal. I wasn't one for dream analysis; in fact, I felt my dreams were usually extensions of my day-to-day problems. Not much thought required for the first one; that was a no-brainer. That probably did happen, and I simply didn't remember it. I shook my head and sighed.
But the second one .. well, that one was just plain weird. I'd have to think about that one later. Sighing, I turned my head - and reality hit me in the face again when I looked around the room and realized that someone had been there while I slept.
There were clothes laid out on the dresser.
I shoved back the covers, swung my feet down to the floor - yow, how cold! - and walked over to inspect what had been left for me, glad that I had slept in the outfit I wore to dinner last night. Meaning that I had NOT opted to sleep in this gi ... well. Not thinking about that right now, thanks.
There were two complete sets of clothing on the dresser. The first was a lovely, faded piece that looked like a relaxed gi, in an off-white; and the other was a neatly folded, medium blue sweater on top of a pair of dark khakis. Neither outfit was terribly fancy; everything was nicely tailored and well made. Plus, there were undergarments lying next to the gi - one bra and one pair of panties - along with one pair of socks and one pair of wool lined ankle high slippers.
And everything was exactly the right size. Everything.
Was I uncomfortable with that? Oh, hell, yes. Considering that all the shirts I owned were usually a size larger than my pants, I was definitely uncomfortable with that. That meant that someone else had noticed, too - especially since the bra was exactly the right size. I spent about three minutes feeling that my personal space, which included my body, had been seriously invaded, until I came to terms with several fundamental truths.
One: I was a prisoner. No matter what my cage looked like, it was still a cage. That meant, essentially, I had no rights; no matter that I might think I had rights, I really had none. Not unless my jailor chose to grant me some rights, meaning that if Khushrenada wanted me to wear the same clothes for the next three weeks in a row, well, that's what I would be doing. I couldn't see that happening - as fastidious as the general was, he'd probably weigh in on the 'take TWO showers every day' side of the equation - but in either case, it wouldn't be my choice to make.
Which brought me to point two: I had no control over what was happening here, no more than I could control the rising and setting of the sun. However, I could control my reactions to what I saw happening around me, and given time, could probably influence some of those actions. And the first thing I was going to work on was Wufei - there was no way that I would make my escape from this place and leave him here.
And that, naturally, brought me to point number three: my obligation to escape. Every prisoner had an obligation to escape or to at least try to escape, or, barring that, get information out to their comrades that they thought would be useful to them. At this point, I was willing to try almost anything; I needed a plan, but I didn't have a plan. I had been aware of my captivity less than twenty-four hours, and had not found a suitable escape route yet. This didn't bode well for the future - because, frankly, the longer I was imprisoned, the smaller my chances for escape became.
Sighing, I reached for the sweater and pants set, grabbing the undergarments, socks and slippers as well. The air in the room was a little chilly; changing, then was a very fast affair. I looked at myself in the vanity mirror, and I was right - everything fit perfectly. Not only that, but the color of the sweater matched my eyes and perfectly complemented my hair.
I was getting tired of using the word 'perfect.' It really was annoying that everything was perfect.
Pulling the slippers over my socks, my attention turned to the large windows at the back of the room. I walked over and looked out, hoping that inspiration would hit me. I had assumed that this room was on the ground floor; that may have been true to some extent, but not on this side of the house. Here, there was still quite a drop to get to ground level and the thorny rosebushes; however, there was something outside that I had not seen from my other room.
A thin white fence enclosed a substantial amount of property in front of my room, a lovely paddock. And suddenly, that fence represented NOT a boundary, NOT restriction, but freedom - because paddocks meant horses, and horses meant transportation into the woods, away from the roads and the usual beaten tracks.
Ah, yes. Now this was much more interesting.
I moved closer to the window, my breath warm on the frosty glass. There were several horses moving around in the paddock. My eye was drawn to a large roan stallion, his tail flung out like a flag behind him, cantering gracefully across the meadow. He snorted and shook his head from side to side as he slowed his pace to a trot, nosing his way into a small knot of horses on the other side of the pasture. Interestingly enough, the other horses gave way to him without any protest.
Excellent. That was the horse for me. A plan was starting to form in my mind.
There was a barn at the far left side of the paddock, as well, just in my line of vision, and some people were moving about over there. Squinting, I turned my head in that direction and counted three different people walking around. I couldn't see their faces, though - all of them were bundled against the autumn chill, with hats and scarves and the like protecting them. One was pouring something into the horse troughs near the barn, moving like he knew what he was doing; a second was carrying a saddle into the barn, pushing a door to what I assumed was the tack room open with his shoulder; and the third had walked into the barn several moments ago, and I had yet to see him emerge.
Three people at the barn. That wasn't too bad - they would hardly be expecting someone attacking them from the main house, and none of them appeared to be soldiers. Plus, I really wouldn't be attacking them as much as I would be simply borrowing some of their equipment.
But there was a problem, and I was looking right at it. Scowling, I stared at the slippers on my feet - yes, they were nice, and yes, they were warm - but really, there was NO way they were going to stand up to walking from even the house to the barn. Walking around the house would be fine; but not walking outside the house. However - if I could find the kitchen, there may be a mud room attached to it - and there could be boots in the mud room ...
I decided, and put my thoughts to action. I scooped up the key to the room from the dresser, walked over to the bedroom door and let myself out, turning to close the door softly behind me. When I turned my head to look down the corridor, my mouth dropped open. I was dumbfounded.
The hallway was awash in sunlight. Every single door was wide open, including Wufei's bedroom door.
It took me completely by surprise. Khushrenada had actually done it - he kept his word. Every doorway in this corridor was open. Now, if that was true, I could probably search throughout the house and find that every doorway not leading to a classified location was flung open, with orders to stay that way.
Gods. That was definitely unnerving.
Well, since I was in the hallway, and Wufei's door was open, I looked inside - and he wasn't there. In fact, he wasn't anywhere in his room. The covers on his bed were still rumpled, and there was a red silk outfit laid out on the bed.
Oh, sure, I'll just bet he's going to wear that one. 'Girl colors,' indeed.
A definite moving and scraping sound took my attention away from Wufei's room and centered it down the hallway, in the direction of the training rooms. I turned - someone's training this morning? and trotted off in that direction, curious.
Wufei could be there, working out now, training before breakfast. Maybe I'd be able to catch him before Treize did; at least talk to him a little, see what it was that he was planning on doing that day. Talk to him about what I saw in his room last night, if I could.
Now the sounds echoing through the hallways were unmistakable; a shuffling sound, an odd, grunting sound, along with the sounds of feet moving and flesh smacking into flesh. The one sound I didn't expect to hear, however, was the raspy, scraping sound of metal against metal, something that set my nerves on edge.
"HA!"
That, too, was something unexpected - one short shout in Wufei's voice, followed by several guttural grunts in a deeper, more masculine voice.
Well .. so much for speaking to Wufei before Treize had the opportunity.
I padded over to the doors of the exercise room, trying to be as noiseless as possible. It was exactly as I expected - completely modern, not ostentatious, but with every conceivable convenience anyone ever thought should BE in a training room. The walls were padded; there were observation areas, weapons cabinets, training equipment - everything. There were several levels, but Treize and Wufei were on the main floor of the gym.
I expected to see Wufei and Treize fighting each other - nothing more, nothing less. What I DID see, though, through the frosted panes of the gymnasium doors, shocked me completely. They were certainly fighting, but I wasn't prepared for the intensity of their combat. Even though Wufei told me he attempted to kill Treize every day, actually seeing the ferocity of their clashes drove the point home. This, at least on Wufei's part, was a duel to the death.
Both combatants were in loose clothing, Wufei in a black gi, Treize in a white gi. The look on Wufei's face was absolutely feral; his teeth were bared, his eyes were wide and dark, and the expression on his face was savage and fierce. It was obvious that Wufei's sole intent and purpose was to kill the man in front of him. Treize was wearing an expression similar to Wufei's, with one significant difference; Treize was actually smiling. As hard as it was for me to believe, his appearance, if anything, was more ferocious than Wufei's. He was much taller, but Wufei was more agile - and while Treize was larger and also quite a bit stronger, Wufei made up for that in drive and intensity. Treize, though, had an air about him that made my skin crawl - there was something about him that was predatory and possessive. There was something about his eyes that made them extremely difficult to look at without getting drawn into them. Normally, his half-lidded gaze was seductive, provocative; but with them wide open like this - gods, they were terrifying.
I stood right at the threshhold to the training room, clutching the doorway with my right hand, caught up in the fight, feeling Wufei's emotions, his anger and desperation - and not able to do anything about it. They were moving so fast it was hard for my eye to follow them.
Treize's gaze flicked in my direction just once; Wufei, however, looked over at me and started to say my name.
"Sall-"
He was rudely cut off. Treize took the advantage and slammed into him immediately. Wufei dropped to the ground like a stone with Treize on top of him; the general pinned him to the ground and trapped Wufei's hands underneath his own, his fighting knives turned in at a useless angle.
Wufei struggled once, then closed his eyes in anguished acknowledgement. "You have won. The victory goes to you."
"Saa ... nonsense, Wufei," Treize replied, moving off Wufei and sliding lightly to his feet, pulling Wufei up with him. "You were distracted. It is a draw." He bent to retrieve the knives from the floor, his gi flapping loosely, showing glimpses of a finely sculpted chest.
Wufei stared at him, anger and what appeared to be consternation mixed in his expression. "It is NOT a draw-"
"Ah, good morning, Ms. Po - so good to see you up!"
"....Treize!" Wufei exclaimed, extremely annoyed.
The only thing I could do was stare at both of them. Neither one seemed particularly out of breath; neither one was marked at all; and Wufei, at least, was not only annoyed, but seemed just on the verge of having a full blown temper tantrum as he stalked after the general, nearly apoplectic.
"It was NOT a draw, Treize!"
"It was, Wufei," he said, his voice cool and even. "The odds were not in your favor." Treize turned to me, calm and collected, and asked, "Have you breakfasted yet, Ms. Po? It IS a lovely morning, ne?"
I kept staring at him, not quite believing that he could so thoroughly trounce Wufei and then speak to me as if nothing had happened. "I .. no .. I haven't eaten yet," I said, giving him an odd look as I walked over to Wufei's side.
Wufei, for his part, was seething and staring daggers at Treize. It didn't do much good, but I'm sure it made him feel much better.
Treize was locking the weapons case as I reached Wufei. "I'm sorry I interrupted you," I told Wufei gently, looking at him. "I distracted you from your fight."
Snorting, Wufei crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Treize, not even looking at me. "Not your fault," he snapped. Had I not known Wufei, I might have felt slighted at that remark; but I knew him well enough to understand that his full attention was on Treize, not on me.
"Did you sleep well, Sally?" Treize asked, looking past Wufei to me, his smile warm and intimate. "You do look better. Your color has improved."
"Ah ... yes. Yes, I slept well, thank you," I replied, now feeling even stranger that he spoke to me instead to speaking to Wufei first. Was he trying to make Wufei angry? A gnawing resentment at his apparent lack of consideration for Wufei's feelings grew in my chest and shortened my breath.
"Ah, that's wonderful! Dr. White will be by to see you in ... oh, I'd say, about two hours, give or take 15 minutes. You are up earlier than we'd predicted, which simply shows how strong your constitution was before you were injured. Rest and relaxation, in your case, seem to have been exactly what the doctor ordered."
I stared at him again, trying desperately to calm down and think of something to say - me, who was usually so glib, with something sarcastic right at the tip of my tongue.
And there was ... nothing. There was absolutely nothing in my brain at that moment. I felt like an angry idiot, wanting to tell him off but not willing to accept the consequences. Taking a deep breath, I murmured a vague "Mmm hmm," to the general - which was the best I could do given the circumstances, and much better than the 'don't treat him like that, you jerk' phrase I wanted to say - and then turned to Wufei. "You know, you were doing well before I distracted you. You have improved quite a bit in a very short time."
Wufei's eyes were closed and his head was down; had he been a plant, he would have been physically drooping, his leaves curled in. He didn't answer me; he was the very picture of defeat.
"Wufei," Treize said gently. "Be polite."
"Thank you," Wufei muttered, scowling down at the floor.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Po. He usually isn't this sullen." Tilting his head to the side, Treize asked, "Would you like a rematch, Wufei?"
"No!" he snapped immediately. Glaring, he spun around on his heel and stormed toward the main doors of the gymnasium.
Treize did not raise his voice, but it felt like an extra layer of steel had been added to it. "Wufei."
As if someone had snapped the rubber band on a toy that had wandered too far, Wufei stopped, turned, and slowly walked back to where Treize and I stood, his shoulders hunched, his face set and stony. I was completely shocked that he had even turned around; Treize, for his part, was silent as Wufei walked back to us, apparently expecting Wufei to do something else.
Clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth, Wufei came to a stop a meter in front of Treize and ground out, "May. I. Be. Excused."
"Yes, Wufei, you may. Breakfast will be in thirty minutes."
"Right." Tense and angry, Wufei whirled away again and stalked out of the training room. Had he been able to do so, he would have slammed the door. I couldn't believe it. That little demonstration could not have been for my benefit, I was sure, but ... still. What the hell was going on? I stared after Wufei, dumbfounded, my resentment toward Treize all but erased.
"Shall we go, Ms. Po?"
I started, and found myself staring up at Treize again. This time, though, my mind started screaming at me right away that he was MUCH too close, especially since he was a little sweaty from that exertion and I could feel my body start to actually move toward his a bit of its own accord, and -
"Yes, yes, that's fine," I stammered, backing away slightly, my mouth dry. He smiled pleasantly, nodded to me and said, "I will see you at breakfast, then, Ms. Po. Thirty minutes, in the dining room."
I nodded, turned and followed Wufei's trail out of the room, extremely glad to get out of there.
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A distinct sense of unreality surged through me as I hurried through the long hallway, leaving the training room behind me. Wufei was nowhere in sight - I could only assume that he was in his room, getting ready for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the open doorways and pooled on the floor, bright light intensifying the bronze and reds and blues of the tapestry rug. A perfect fall day. I hardly noticed.
I found myself at the double doors of the library, not quite sure how I got there and with at least twenty minutes before I had to appear for breakfast. There was no doubt in my mind, either, that my presence was required, not simply requested; I was specifically told when and where to appear, just as Wufei had been.
Now I allowed myself to feel annoyed. Good thing the general didn't tell me what to wear, the way he tried to tell Wufei what to wear. He'd be in for a very real shock when I refused, hmm?
Not at all, said that caustic little voice in my head. He gave you the clothes you're wearing right now. In fact, he gave you a choice of what to wear. The only thing you couldn't choose was your underwear.
Oh, gods. Just shut up and go away, would you please?
Taking the opportunity to calm my breathing to a manageable rate, I slowly walked into the room and stood in front of the bookshelves next to the large oak doors. The faint aroma of roses stole across the room; looking toward the opposite wall, I saw fresh cut roses in a clear vase on the small reading table near the center of the room. A very elegant touch.
In some way, this room felt familiar. Safe. A place of refuge, where I could quietly pull myself together and think, and as my gaze roamed across the spines of hundreds of books shelved there, I finally realized why. One of my favorite pastimes - reading - was contained right here, with everything I could possibly want. There were so many books that it would probably take me years to read them all. Just the thought made me smile. I walked to the overstuffed chair next to the table, sank down, closed my eyes and sat there, the scent of roses and leather mingling together. There was something very comforting about that, as well.
Soft footsteps brought me out of my reverie. I turned my head and saw Wufei walk through the double doors of the library, his head bowed and gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. He did look calmer - much more subdued than he had been on the training room floor. And he was wearing white, not the red outfit that had been laid out on his bed.
Good. Somehow, his small act of defiance made me feel a little better.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft.
"Wufei," I replied, my tone bleak. "Please. Don't apologize. You were angry. You had every right to be angry."
"No, Treize thought I should apologize to you. He was right." Wufei's gaze was still locked on a spot on the floor in front of him.
I shook my head. "Please don't, Wufei. There is no need to apologize. You did nothing to me."
He snorted softly, meeting my gaze for the first time. "I was rude to you. I can be angry, but it is not right to lose control. And .... you didn't ... deserve it. So - I'm sorry. I said it."
Hm. I sat up in the chair and looked at him. He had finished in a 'there, now I've said what I was told to say, now you say what YOU need to say' type of voice. "Well ... in that case, Wufei ... I accept your apology. And by the way - you do look quite comfortable in that."
Puzzled, he looked at me, finally working out that I meant his clothes. "...but ... why shouldn't I be?"
"Ah, well, that's true, isn't it?" I asked, smiling at him. "There really is no reason for you to be uncomfortable." Gesturing at the bookshelves, I asked, "Have you been able to take advantage of this yet?"
Had I not seen the change myself, I would not have believed it. Wufei's expression instantly transformed from a sullen, fixed look to one of eagerness. His eyes sparkled, the bitter lines between his eyebrows vanished, and his entire face appeared ... younger, more alive than I'd ever seen it. And it struck me at that moment that Wufei, with his exotic caramel skin and oriental features, standing in the middle of the room, his lithe figure still, completely unselfconscious, obviously in awe of the treasure trove in front of him ... was beautiful. He was a beautiful, rare young man, someone that anyone would want to -
Gods. My mouth felt dry as dust. That was not where I wanted my thoughts to go at all.
"I love to read myself. I was wondering what types of books are here," I continued, watching him in stupefied amazement. "It's been a long time since I've bee in a position where I've had - well - any free time ..."
"They're ... wonderful," he breathed, looking up at the highest shelves, his eyes shining. "I've never seen so many books in my life!" He took a moment to stare at them, sunlight falling on him naturally, his spotless white shirt gleaming. "I'm going to get through them all. After I kill him, I don't know when I'll have such a chance again."
I blinked. Wufei said 'after I kill him' in much the same manner as he would say 'after I eat breakfast.' I was no stranger to death; the people under my command put their lives on the line every single day, and we planned sorties and raids frequently, targeting specific military personnel. This, however, was different. I couldn't put my finger on it yet, but I knew it was.
"Um ... yes," I replied carefully, feeling a little cold inside. "That's going to take quite a while, Wufei." I turned my head slowly, looking at the shelves of books covering every inch of wallspace in the room. "There are so ... many ... here ..." And then I realized that Treize was standing in the alcove doorway, listening to our conversation, a pleased expression on his face.
"Yes." A slow sigh slipped through Wufei's lips as he considered the books one last time. His expression gradually became more shuttered and closed, until it finally shifted back into its habitual, sullen lines, his brilliant smile submerged beneath a glowering frown. Back to normal.
"So. I apologized. I'm going to breakfast. You can come in a few minutes - I'm setting the table."
I looked up at him. "You did apologize, Wufei, and as I said before, I do accept it. Thank you."
He nodded and turned to leave; only then did he notice Treize standing in the doorway, watching him. The general nodded at him, a slight smile pulling at his lips. Glaring, Wufei gave him a curt nod and stomped out of the library toward the dining room, a thinly veiled snort following him.
"Did you want a rose, Ms. Po? I think it would look splendid in your hair."
Treize looked beautifully lethal as he crossed the room, smiling, his gaze fastened on me. He strode right to the reading table and cupped one of the blossoms in his hand, the stem between his fingers, ready to collect that single bloom, waiting for my reply.
"Ah ... no, no thank you, General. I'd much prefer to see them together than to pluck a single one from the bunch."
"As you wish, Ms. Po." He withdrew his hand from the flower; I imagined its petals trembled in relief as it was returned to the vase. "They are lovely together, as you say." Turning toward the bookcases along the back wall, he tilted his head and walked over, running his long fingers over the spines of the books, inspecting them. "Would you like something to read instead? If I seem to be pouring on the hospitality, I am. I don't want you to be bored in my house." He stopped and looked back at me. "This doesn't have to be unpleasant," he added gently.
I looked up at him and sighed. He may not have known it, but he found at least one weakness of mine. "Yes ... in fact, I would like something to read."
"What is to your taste? I have ... a little bit of everything here. I'm never one to stay too long with one topic," he added, giving me a sideways glance, kneeling in front of the bookcase, "unless it TRULY fascinates me."
"Ah. Well, I enjoy most everything. Would you recommend something?"
"Mmmm..." He seemed to consider, his fingers hesitating over the backs of two different volumes, and gave me another amused, sidelong look. "Perhaps a murder mystery might be right up your alley." Pulling one slender book from the shelf, he straightened, walked over and handed me the book. "Inspiration?" he murmured, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
I couldn't suppress an answering grin. "Oh, why ... thank you."
"Of course, if you'd prefer something medical and dry, I can produce that, too ..."
He knew what he was doing, it was obvious; it was in his eyes, the way he looked at me, in his entire manner. Well, I could play, too - but I wasn't kidding.
"Oh, well," I said pleasantly, "the last time I was in school, I was studying pharmacology ... but that was a few years ago."
"Sou, dana. Better not let you near the kitchen then, hm?" He winked at me. "Perhaps a newspaper, then? You strike me, Ms. Po, as a woman who likes to know what is happening now."
I laughed. "That would be fine, General." The book was leather bound, smooth to the touch, and had a wonderfully soft feel to it as I looked at it and turned it over in my hands. "So ... you've read this? How does it end?"
"Dramatically," Treize said, smiling down. "Fu Manchu escapes, but his plan is defeated by the intrepid men set against him. It is a marvelous old book."
"Ah. Then the arch villain will have yet another chance, I fear."
"He does ... until the last book in the series." He looked back at the bookshelves, away from me; and his voice softened as he said, "But he ... he has had quite the time until then - ne? Lived his life to the fullest."
"I'm sure of it," I replied, curious at the change in his demeanor. Speaking with him was like speaking with five other people; everything he said had multiple meanings, and this was no exception. Who is he talking about? "I'm assuming this is not the last book in the series, though..."
"You are absolutely correct, Ms. Po - this is not the last book. In many ways, though, the last book is ... very sad."
"Not for the heroes, I'm sure," I said, hardly able to keep the dry sarcasm out of my tone. "They always seem to be satisfied in the end."
"Yes, for the heroes. You see, Ms. Po ... in the course of fighting, the heroes themselves have grown old. It is the end of their lives as much as it is anyone else's. The entire book is touched with just a hint of that sense. That things end. Hence, the victory is tainted. Not to mention -" He paused and stared right at me, his blue eyes intense, "- once one succeeds in one's goal - unless one has another, Ms. Po, then life becomes very sad indeed. There is nothing left."
"Ah. Well. Possibly, that's true." I looked up at him, raising one eyebrow delicately. "But the heroes will have their memories. The villain, I assume, is simply dead."
I smiled. Point for me.
"...but as I was saying to Wufei - I can't recall the last time I've had so much - time - to actually read. And it is something I enjoy very much."
"You will have that time here," Treize said, his voice warm. "There are things for you to do; and once the doctor proclaims you well enough, I can provide you with many other things, which I will. Circumstances aside, Ms. Po ... you ARE my guest."
"Well," I started, a little guarded, "I do enjoy outdoor sports ... fishing and the like - although hunting is not to my taste. Only for food, not for sport."
"I rather enjoy the hunt myself," Treize said, "although I suspect that may be mostly a gender difference."
Feh. I'll just bet you enjoy hunting.
"There are horses," he continued, "as you have undoubtedly noticed. Marvelous animals. It's taken me years to breed them to this particular shade of beauty."
"Yes, I did see them." I nodded at him, smiling. "Lovely confirmation. Beautiful creatures."
"Of course," Treize said. Smiling, he offered his arm to me. "Shall we go to breakfast?"
"Ah ... yes, thank you." I rose out of my chair and took his arm with a little smile. He patted my hand and drew me out of the library and into the dining room, his hand still over mine. The muscles in his arm were firm and tight; his forearm looked deceptively slim, but my fingers hardly stretched across it.
It dawned on me that killing him probably wasn't going to be an easy task at all.
Treize led me into the dining room; and the first thing I saw was Wufei, frowning mightily at the table.
"Almost perfect, Wufei. You've quite improved," Treize said with a smile.
"What did I miss?" Wufei was frowning in concentration, staring at the table.
I stiffened slightly. "You know, General, the table appears quite lovely ..."
Giving my hand a little pat, Treize dropped my arm, leaned over the table and switched two forks. "Oh, of course it does. This is simply a little assignment Wufei gave himself."
"... oh. I still can't tell the difference between these two ..." I watched Wufei busily switch the forks at each place setting.
Considering the weirdness of this morning, this was yet another piece of the bizarre. I swallowed and murmured to Wufei, "The china is beautiful, as is the silver ..."
"Un. I didn't pick it," Wufei muttered, crossing his arms, glaring critically at the table. "NOW is it right?"
Treize looked at the table, hesitating.
"Treize!" Wufei snapped, irritated.
"The teacup, Wufei, is too centered. More to the left."
I was staring. I knew it. I also knew that the last thing I ever expected to see was Chang Wufei, a gundam pilot who dueled Treize Khushrenada every day for the express purpose of killing him, taking direction from that very man on how to properly set a formal dining table.
"I did not assign this for him, Ms. Po," Treize said softly in my ear, as if he knew my thoughts. "He wished to learn it. He has not told me why."
"....oh. I see," I responded, my voice scarcely above a whisper as I watched Wufei mutter and fix the place settings once again.
"Well?" he snapped, peevish.
Treize smiled at him. "Perfect."
Grunting, Wufei nodded and plopped into his chair, apparently satisfied.
Treize pulled out a chair for me - the same one I chose the previous evening - and waited until I settled myself in it before seating himself at the head of the table. I glanced over at Wufei, and then down at the table; in fact, there was no discernable difference in the positioning of any of the plates or cutlery that I could see, and Wufei was back to being sulky again.
Absolutely ... positively ... bizarre. I peered at Wufei again. What was going on? He wasn't acting like a prisoner ... he wasn't being treated as a prisoner. It just didn't make sense.
"Eggs, Ms. Po?"
I turned and looked at Treize, who was serving from a silver tray. "And please, DO call me Treize. I prefer it. I even ask my subordinates to do so, and you are hardly that."
"Ah ... very well ... Treize." Using his first name was a very strange taste on my tongue. Somehow, it was ... more intimate. And really, I didn't like that - it was an odd sensation, one I couldn't identify and one with which I certainly didn't want to become familiar. I smiled wanly at him as I watched him scoop scrambled eggs, perfectly prepared, from the serving dish to my platter.
"Thank you," he said, smiling, as he handed me my plate.
Oh, good. Reward me with food. Suddenly, the eggs didn't seem to be as appetizing as they were a few moments ago; I took a few sliced tomatoes and moved them around on my plate, hoping that might make a difference.
It didn't.
"Wufei. You need protein."
I watched, amazed again, as Wufei sulkily reached for the cottage cheese and served himself. The glare he threw in Treize's direction would have killed a lesser man; but he did start eating, which was more than I could say for myself.
"I have a meeting this morning," Treize said to the table at large, raising one eyebrow and pointedly ignoring Wufei's behavior.
"Ah," Wufei said, throwing a sharp look in his direction.
"I'm not sure what time I will be returning," the general continued, "but you may have to introduce Dr. White, Wufei."
"Hai."
Treize glanced at Wufei, then without warning his gaze fell on me. "Ms. Po. I can trust you with his welfare, ne?"
I blinked at him, frowning slightly. What kind of weirdness was this? "Well .. yes, of course, Gene- .. ah, Treize."
"Don't let him overtrain," he said, eyeing Wufei, his attitude calm and collected.
In response, Wufei slammed his fork down and glared at Treize.
"Wufei," Treize said gently. "I know how you react when you lose poorly." Turning to me again, he said, "Stop him if he starts to overdo it."
A strangled, guttural sound was cut off as Wufei struggled to control himself, his face red with effort.
"Ah ... of course, Treize," I said faintly. No. Wait. I needed some time to wrap my mind around this concept. My jailor was leaving - and he was putting me in charge of ... another inmate? Just walking around the house ... free? Part of my mind wondered if he was going to leave me the keys to his car, as well.
Well, a map of the area would be nice, too. Plus a full tank of gas.
He stood in one fluid motion, the palms of his hands flat on the table, and looked at me with twinkling blue eyes. "Thank you, Ms. Po," he murmured gravely. "I must be going. The doctor will be here soon." Straightening, he put one hand into his coat pocket, dipped his head in acknowledgement and smiled. "I will see you both later," he said, with an extra nod to Wufei.
"Have a good day," I said, smiling insincerely, wishing he would simply vanish so I could speak with Wufei alone that much sooner.
But he wasn't going anywhere until Wufei acknowledged him, which he finally did, giving a grudging nod of his head.
"Thank you, Ms. Po, I hope to," Treize replied. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and flashed a set of keys in front of me with a very big smile - and good grief, I recognized those keys, there were only twelve machines like that built in the entire world-
"-adieu," he said, looking straight into my eyes again before leaving the room. I could swear he was laughing even though I didn't hear a sound.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
I had restless dreams.
In one, I was back on the shuttle when it crashed. Klaxons shrieked throughout the ship, emergency lights flashed, and the faint stench of acrid smoke wafted onto the bridge. The slightest movement on my part brought instant agony, but a relentless, driving need to know what happened to my people pushed me to painfully turn my head.
I came face to face with the dead and dying.
Above me was my second in command, sprawled across the navigator's console, his head cocked at an unnatural angle, not moving. Blood dripped down his arm and slowly dribbled to the floor. A large pool of it was under his chest, next to some horrendous electrical burns. Shifting my gaze to the side, I recognized the Trunda twins – engineering geniuses both – huddled in a fatal last embrace, crushed under a cabinet, their twined hands with their distinctive signet rings the only identifying feature. And finally, moving my eyes to assess my own damage, I looked down at my legs and saw shredded clothing soaked in blood, and bone, and boots that were a gruesome, mangled mess. The pain in my head was tremendous, and it hurt to breathe.
Damn.
A sensation of lassitude started to blunt the pain; euphoria slowly seeped into my bones. Concussion and shock, I decided, clinically analyzing my symptoms – I've lost a lot of blood. Probably too much … which meant...
Heavy steps pounded into the command room, shaking the floor, jarring me mercilessly. Shouts and orders rang out, competing with the klaxons for attention. Boots that looked polished and lustrous and had that slight smell of disinfectant clinging about them clomped into my line of sight, stopping just half a meter away from my face. Squinting against a suddenly bright light, my gaze traveled up from the heels of the boots to where dark green pants were tucked into their tops. Who those boots belonged to, though, was anyone's guess; but from all the clues, I figured I knew who they were.
They were soldiers from OZ, come to count the bodies.
And Une must be here, too, I realized. Let us die in peace, you bitch. Go gloat somewhere else. Give us our last vestige of dignity.
"Here – corpsman, over here!" her familiar voice snapped imperiously. "Start procedures on this one right away. Treize-sama commanded that everyone be saved, but that the officers were to take precedence – and Po looks pretty bad."
You don't know the half of it, you idiot...I'm wrapped in a haze of endorphins. I'm dying.
And then Une was there, towering over me, eyeing my bloodied legs dispassionately. "If it were up to me, Po, I'd kill you right now. You are trash – nothing but rebel scum who deserves no less. However, Treize-sama ordered that everyone be taken alive and evacuated to the closest medical facility. 'Pay special attention to the officers,' he said – and I can do no less."
Une stared down into my eyes, her internal conflict with what she knew she should do and what her precious Treize-sama ordered her to do written plainly across her face. And seeing that, I had a sudden, uncontrollable urge to giggle hysterically. It didn't come out that way, I know - it probably sounded more like a wet, raspy breath - but it really didn't matter, because any indecision was wiped clean as if by magic from Une's eyes. She scowled, leaned down and put her ear next to my lips, close enough that if I had the strength I could have bitten her earlobe off; as it was, I had to summon the strength from every reserve I had just to whisper three defiant words into her ear.
"Won't ... get ... me," I breathed, closing my eyes with a satisfied smile.
A slight gasp, followed by an angry, "Hurry, man – hurry! If she dies, so will you –" followed me as my world faded to black.
Warm darkness enveloped me with welcoming arms as I slipped down and away, moving quickly into unconsciousness, now completely unaware of the surrounding turmoil. Heh. Too bad, Une … death cheated you again...
Just as suddenly as the darkness claimed me, it gave me up to the light, thrusting me toward consciousness again. Other new, strange sensations came with a feeling of not-quite drowning in the dark.
I realized I was running – running hard, and running fast, and running as if my life depended upon it, legs kicking through waist high grass, breath catching painfully in my lungs, sprinting towards – something. Something that I couldn't see, but something that was just at the edge of the meadow, at the edge of my vision, right where the forests' barrier of russet and gold leaves met the meadow's tawny wall of grass.
I had no time, though, to admire the beauty of fall, because my world had shrunk to the size of the path under my feet. That path was faintly delineated on the ground; it had diverged from another, more heavily traveled track. It wasn't clear, though, that ANY marked route actually led to Sanctuary - or what I thought was Sanctuary, the place I wanted to go, the place at the edge of the meadow.
It didn't matter how I got there, just that I did. I had to protect the child I was holding; I had to deliver my charge into safe hands.
Sanctuary was at the horizon, I could see it - and once I reached it, I knew I'd be able to put the child down in safety, the child I held so tightly in my arms. Looking down at the baby for a moment, I glimpsed solemn, dark Asian eyes under wispy black hair looking back at me, one small fist waving gently outside the swaddling clothes, a vague image of translucent black and red colors swirling around his fist. I shifted his weight, snuggling him against my chest, next to my pounding heart, and dug deep to find other stores of energy to help my burning muscles work even harder.
I was not just running because I enjoyed it. There was something chasing me - or rather, someone - ancient and deadly, huge, winged, someone who wanted the child as fiercely as I wanted to protect him. He reached out with lazy grace, warm strong fingers ready to tear the child away, fingers that were merciless in their assault on my person and dignity, my mind and body, fingers that poked and pried and pressed their way into parts of my body and soul that I never knew existed.
They reached out to grab and trip and rend and sunder and eventually to force me to stumble and fall and give up the child to him …
NO!
Screaming, I fell to the ground as those fingers forced their way first into my mind and then into soul. As I fell, I flung the boy as far away from me as I could, hoping against hope that someone else was watching, and that they had seen me fall and would find the boy and would take him in and shelter him and protect him before –
- pain - gods, such tearing, horrible pain - starbursts flashed in front of my eyes. Then I was gasping for air, spiraling down and down, farther and farther -
.....until my eyes snapped open and I sat straight up in bed, panting.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
I opened my eyes to sunlight streaming across the bed and splashing down the sides of the walls, an incomplete master painting. Part of my brain acknowledged the cleverness of the architect who constructed bedrooms where sunlight could pour through windows like honey but never touch the face of the person in the bed. The other part - the part that was interested in my survival - kept my body upright and rigid as I continued to pant, slowly coming out of that dream stupor as I registered where I was.
Alive, not dead. In Luxembourg, not somewhere else. And under house arrest - the prisoner of Treize Khushrenada, being held with Chang Wufei. Plus, this was Tuesday, the second day of my imprisonment. At least the second day I remembered.
I could hear birds chirping. Not like yesterday, though - not as loud, and certainly not as insistent, but right there, outside the windows. It sounded lovely. Calming. Peaceful.
Good. I needed calm and peaceful right now.
My heart rate was returning to normal. I wasn't one for dream analysis; in fact, I felt my dreams were usually extensions of my day-to-day problems. Not much thought required for the first one; that was a no-brainer. That probably did happen, and I simply didn't remember it. I shook my head and sighed.
But the second one .. well, that one was just plain weird. I'd have to think about that one later. Sighing, I turned my head - and reality hit me in the face again when I looked around the room and realized that someone had been there while I slept.
There were clothes laid out on the dresser.
I shoved back the covers, swung my feet down to the floor - yow, how cold! - and walked over to inspect what had been left for me, glad that I had slept in the outfit I wore to dinner last night. Meaning that I had NOT opted to sleep in this gi ... well. Not thinking about that right now, thanks.
There were two complete sets of clothing on the dresser. The first was a lovely, faded piece that looked like a relaxed gi, in an off-white; and the other was a neatly folded, medium blue sweater on top of a pair of dark khakis. Neither outfit was terribly fancy; everything was nicely tailored and well made. Plus, there were undergarments lying next to the gi - one bra and one pair of panties - along with one pair of socks and one pair of wool lined ankle high slippers.
And everything was exactly the right size. Everything.
Was I uncomfortable with that? Oh, hell, yes. Considering that all the shirts I owned were usually a size larger than my pants, I was definitely uncomfortable with that. That meant that someone else had noticed, too - especially since the bra was exactly the right size. I spent about three minutes feeling that my personal space, which included my body, had been seriously invaded, until I came to terms with several fundamental truths.
One: I was a prisoner. No matter what my cage looked like, it was still a cage. That meant, essentially, I had no rights; no matter that I might think I had rights, I really had none. Not unless my jailor chose to grant me some rights, meaning that if Khushrenada wanted me to wear the same clothes for the next three weeks in a row, well, that's what I would be doing. I couldn't see that happening - as fastidious as the general was, he'd probably weigh in on the 'take TWO showers every day' side of the equation - but in either case, it wouldn't be my choice to make.
Which brought me to point two: I had no control over what was happening here, no more than I could control the rising and setting of the sun. However, I could control my reactions to what I saw happening around me, and given time, could probably influence some of those actions. And the first thing I was going to work on was Wufei - there was no way that I would make my escape from this place and leave him here.
And that, naturally, brought me to point number three: my obligation to escape. Every prisoner had an obligation to escape or to at least try to escape, or, barring that, get information out to their comrades that they thought would be useful to them. At this point, I was willing to try almost anything; I needed a plan, but I didn't have a plan. I had been aware of my captivity less than twenty-four hours, and had not found a suitable escape route yet. This didn't bode well for the future - because, frankly, the longer I was imprisoned, the smaller my chances for escape became.
Sighing, I reached for the sweater and pants set, grabbing the undergarments, socks and slippers as well. The air in the room was a little chilly; changing, then was a very fast affair. I looked at myself in the vanity mirror, and I was right - everything fit perfectly. Not only that, but the color of the sweater matched my eyes and perfectly complemented my hair.
I was getting tired of using the word 'perfect.' It really was annoying that everything was perfect.
Pulling the slippers over my socks, my attention turned to the large windows at the back of the room. I walked over and looked out, hoping that inspiration would hit me. I had assumed that this room was on the ground floor; that may have been true to some extent, but not on this side of the house. Here, there was still quite a drop to get to ground level and the thorny rosebushes; however, there was something outside that I had not seen from my other room.
A thin white fence enclosed a substantial amount of property in front of my room, a lovely paddock. And suddenly, that fence represented NOT a boundary, NOT restriction, but freedom - because paddocks meant horses, and horses meant transportation into the woods, away from the roads and the usual beaten tracks.
Ah, yes. Now this was much more interesting.
I moved closer to the window, my breath warm on the frosty glass. There were several horses moving around in the paddock. My eye was drawn to a large roan stallion, his tail flung out like a flag behind him, cantering gracefully across the meadow. He snorted and shook his head from side to side as he slowed his pace to a trot, nosing his way into a small knot of horses on the other side of the pasture. Interestingly enough, the other horses gave way to him without any protest.
Excellent. That was the horse for me. A plan was starting to form in my mind.
There was a barn at the far left side of the paddock, as well, just in my line of vision, and some people were moving about over there. Squinting, I turned my head in that direction and counted three different people walking around. I couldn't see their faces, though - all of them were bundled against the autumn chill, with hats and scarves and the like protecting them. One was pouring something into the horse troughs near the barn, moving like he knew what he was doing; a second was carrying a saddle into the barn, pushing a door to what I assumed was the tack room open with his shoulder; and the third had walked into the barn several moments ago, and I had yet to see him emerge.
Three people at the barn. That wasn't too bad - they would hardly be expecting someone attacking them from the main house, and none of them appeared to be soldiers. Plus, I really wouldn't be attacking them as much as I would be simply borrowing some of their equipment.
But there was a problem, and I was looking right at it. Scowling, I stared at the slippers on my feet - yes, they were nice, and yes, they were warm - but really, there was NO way they were going to stand up to walking from even the house to the barn. Walking around the house would be fine; but not walking outside the house. However - if I could find the kitchen, there may be a mud room attached to it - and there could be boots in the mud room ...
I decided, and put my thoughts to action. I scooped up the key to the room from the dresser, walked over to the bedroom door and let myself out, turning to close the door softly behind me. When I turned my head to look down the corridor, my mouth dropped open. I was dumbfounded.
The hallway was awash in sunlight. Every single door was wide open, including Wufei's bedroom door.
It took me completely by surprise. Khushrenada had actually done it - he kept his word. Every doorway in this corridor was open. Now, if that was true, I could probably search throughout the house and find that every doorway not leading to a classified location was flung open, with orders to stay that way.
Gods. That was definitely unnerving.
Well, since I was in the hallway, and Wufei's door was open, I looked inside - and he wasn't there. In fact, he wasn't anywhere in his room. The covers on his bed were still rumpled, and there was a red silk outfit laid out on the bed.
Oh, sure, I'll just bet he's going to wear that one. 'Girl colors,' indeed.
A definite moving and scraping sound took my attention away from Wufei's room and centered it down the hallway, in the direction of the training rooms. I turned - someone's training this morning? and trotted off in that direction, curious.
Wufei could be there, working out now, training before breakfast. Maybe I'd be able to catch him before Treize did; at least talk to him a little, see what it was that he was planning on doing that day. Talk to him about what I saw in his room last night, if I could.
Now the sounds echoing through the hallways were unmistakable; a shuffling sound, an odd, grunting sound, along with the sounds of feet moving and flesh smacking into flesh. The one sound I didn't expect to hear, however, was the raspy, scraping sound of metal against metal, something that set my nerves on edge.
"HA!"
That, too, was something unexpected - one short shout in Wufei's voice, followed by several guttural grunts in a deeper, more masculine voice.
Well .. so much for speaking to Wufei before Treize had the opportunity.
I padded over to the doors of the exercise room, trying to be as noiseless as possible. It was exactly as I expected - completely modern, not ostentatious, but with every conceivable convenience anyone ever thought should BE in a training room. The walls were padded; there were observation areas, weapons cabinets, training equipment - everything. There were several levels, but Treize and Wufei were on the main floor of the gym.
I expected to see Wufei and Treize fighting each other - nothing more, nothing less. What I DID see, though, through the frosted panes of the gymnasium doors, shocked me completely. They were certainly fighting, but I wasn't prepared for the intensity of their combat. Even though Wufei told me he attempted to kill Treize every day, actually seeing the ferocity of their clashes drove the point home. This, at least on Wufei's part, was a duel to the death.
Both combatants were in loose clothing, Wufei in a black gi, Treize in a white gi. The look on Wufei's face was absolutely feral; his teeth were bared, his eyes were wide and dark, and the expression on his face was savage and fierce. It was obvious that Wufei's sole intent and purpose was to kill the man in front of him. Treize was wearing an expression similar to Wufei's, with one significant difference; Treize was actually smiling. As hard as it was for me to believe, his appearance, if anything, was more ferocious than Wufei's. He was much taller, but Wufei was more agile - and while Treize was larger and also quite a bit stronger, Wufei made up for that in drive and intensity. Treize, though, had an air about him that made my skin crawl - there was something about him that was predatory and possessive. There was something about his eyes that made them extremely difficult to look at without getting drawn into them. Normally, his half-lidded gaze was seductive, provocative; but with them wide open like this - gods, they were terrifying.
I stood right at the threshhold to the training room, clutching the doorway with my right hand, caught up in the fight, feeling Wufei's emotions, his anger and desperation - and not able to do anything about it. They were moving so fast it was hard for my eye to follow them.
Treize's gaze flicked in my direction just once; Wufei, however, looked over at me and started to say my name.
"Sall-"
He was rudely cut off. Treize took the advantage and slammed into him immediately. Wufei dropped to the ground like a stone with Treize on top of him; the general pinned him to the ground and trapped Wufei's hands underneath his own, his fighting knives turned in at a useless angle.
Wufei struggled once, then closed his eyes in anguished acknowledgement. "You have won. The victory goes to you."
"Saa ... nonsense, Wufei," Treize replied, moving off Wufei and sliding lightly to his feet, pulling Wufei up with him. "You were distracted. It is a draw." He bent to retrieve the knives from the floor, his gi flapping loosely, showing glimpses of a finely sculpted chest.
Wufei stared at him, anger and what appeared to be consternation mixed in his expression. "It is NOT a draw-"
"Ah, good morning, Ms. Po - so good to see you up!"
"....Treize!" Wufei exclaimed, extremely annoyed.
The only thing I could do was stare at both of them. Neither one seemed particularly out of breath; neither one was marked at all; and Wufei, at least, was not only annoyed, but seemed just on the verge of having a full blown temper tantrum as he stalked after the general, nearly apoplectic.
"It was NOT a draw, Treize!"
"It was, Wufei," he said, his voice cool and even. "The odds were not in your favor." Treize turned to me, calm and collected, and asked, "Have you breakfasted yet, Ms. Po? It IS a lovely morning, ne?"
I kept staring at him, not quite believing that he could so thoroughly trounce Wufei and then speak to me as if nothing had happened. "I .. no .. I haven't eaten yet," I said, giving him an odd look as I walked over to Wufei's side.
Wufei, for his part, was seething and staring daggers at Treize. It didn't do much good, but I'm sure it made him feel much better.
Treize was locking the weapons case as I reached Wufei. "I'm sorry I interrupted you," I told Wufei gently, looking at him. "I distracted you from your fight."
Snorting, Wufei crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Treize, not even looking at me. "Not your fault," he snapped. Had I not known Wufei, I might have felt slighted at that remark; but I knew him well enough to understand that his full attention was on Treize, not on me.
"Did you sleep well, Sally?" Treize asked, looking past Wufei to me, his smile warm and intimate. "You do look better. Your color has improved."
"Ah ... yes. Yes, I slept well, thank you," I replied, now feeling even stranger that he spoke to me instead to speaking to Wufei first. Was he trying to make Wufei angry? A gnawing resentment at his apparent lack of consideration for Wufei's feelings grew in my chest and shortened my breath.
"Ah, that's wonderful! Dr. White will be by to see you in ... oh, I'd say, about two hours, give or take 15 minutes. You are up earlier than we'd predicted, which simply shows how strong your constitution was before you were injured. Rest and relaxation, in your case, seem to have been exactly what the doctor ordered."
I stared at him again, trying desperately to calm down and think of something to say - me, who was usually so glib, with something sarcastic right at the tip of my tongue.
And there was ... nothing. There was absolutely nothing in my brain at that moment. I felt like an angry idiot, wanting to tell him off but not willing to accept the consequences. Taking a deep breath, I murmured a vague "Mmm hmm," to the general - which was the best I could do given the circumstances, and much better than the 'don't treat him like that, you jerk' phrase I wanted to say - and then turned to Wufei. "You know, you were doing well before I distracted you. You have improved quite a bit in a very short time."
Wufei's eyes were closed and his head was down; had he been a plant, he would have been physically drooping, his leaves curled in. He didn't answer me; he was the very picture of defeat.
"Wufei," Treize said gently. "Be polite."
"Thank you," Wufei muttered, scowling down at the floor.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Po. He usually isn't this sullen." Tilting his head to the side, Treize asked, "Would you like a rematch, Wufei?"
"No!" he snapped immediately. Glaring, he spun around on his heel and stormed toward the main doors of the gymnasium.
Treize did not raise his voice, but it felt like an extra layer of steel had been added to it. "Wufei."
As if someone had snapped the rubber band on a toy that had wandered too far, Wufei stopped, turned, and slowly walked back to where Treize and I stood, his shoulders hunched, his face set and stony. I was completely shocked that he had even turned around; Treize, for his part, was silent as Wufei walked back to us, apparently expecting Wufei to do something else.
Clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth, Wufei came to a stop a meter in front of Treize and ground out, "May. I. Be. Excused."
"Yes, Wufei, you may. Breakfast will be in thirty minutes."
"Right." Tense and angry, Wufei whirled away again and stalked out of the training room. Had he been able to do so, he would have slammed the door. I couldn't believe it. That little demonstration could not have been for my benefit, I was sure, but ... still. What the hell was going on? I stared after Wufei, dumbfounded, my resentment toward Treize all but erased.
"Shall we go, Ms. Po?"
I started, and found myself staring up at Treize again. This time, though, my mind started screaming at me right away that he was MUCH too close, especially since he was a little sweaty from that exertion and I could feel my body start to actually move toward his a bit of its own accord, and -
"Yes, yes, that's fine," I stammered, backing away slightly, my mouth dry. He smiled pleasantly, nodded to me and said, "I will see you at breakfast, then, Ms. Po. Thirty minutes, in the dining room."
I nodded, turned and followed Wufei's trail out of the room, extremely glad to get out of there.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
A distinct sense of unreality surged through me as I hurried through the long hallway, leaving the training room behind me. Wufei was nowhere in sight - I could only assume that he was in his room, getting ready for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the open doorways and pooled on the floor, bright light intensifying the bronze and reds and blues of the tapestry rug. A perfect fall day. I hardly noticed.
I found myself at the double doors of the library, not quite sure how I got there and with at least twenty minutes before I had to appear for breakfast. There was no doubt in my mind, either, that my presence was required, not simply requested; I was specifically told when and where to appear, just as Wufei had been.
Now I allowed myself to feel annoyed. Good thing the general didn't tell me what to wear, the way he tried to tell Wufei what to wear. He'd be in for a very real shock when I refused, hmm?
Not at all, said that caustic little voice in my head. He gave you the clothes you're wearing right now. In fact, he gave you a choice of what to wear. The only thing you couldn't choose was your underwear.
Oh, gods. Just shut up and go away, would you please?
Taking the opportunity to calm my breathing to a manageable rate, I slowly walked into the room and stood in front of the bookshelves next to the large oak doors. The faint aroma of roses stole across the room; looking toward the opposite wall, I saw fresh cut roses in a clear vase on the small reading table near the center of the room. A very elegant touch.
In some way, this room felt familiar. Safe. A place of refuge, where I could quietly pull myself together and think, and as my gaze roamed across the spines of hundreds of books shelved there, I finally realized why. One of my favorite pastimes - reading - was contained right here, with everything I could possibly want. There were so many books that it would probably take me years to read them all. Just the thought made me smile. I walked to the overstuffed chair next to the table, sank down, closed my eyes and sat there, the scent of roses and leather mingling together. There was something very comforting about that, as well.
Soft footsteps brought me out of my reverie. I turned my head and saw Wufei walk through the double doors of the library, his head bowed and gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. He did look calmer - much more subdued than he had been on the training room floor. And he was wearing white, not the red outfit that had been laid out on his bed.
Good. Somehow, his small act of defiance made me feel a little better.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft.
"Wufei," I replied, my tone bleak. "Please. Don't apologize. You were angry. You had every right to be angry."
"No, Treize thought I should apologize to you. He was right." Wufei's gaze was still locked on a spot on the floor in front of him.
I shook my head. "Please don't, Wufei. There is no need to apologize. You did nothing to me."
He snorted softly, meeting my gaze for the first time. "I was rude to you. I can be angry, but it is not right to lose control. And .... you didn't ... deserve it. So - I'm sorry. I said it."
Hm. I sat up in the chair and looked at him. He had finished in a 'there, now I've said what I was told to say, now you say what YOU need to say' type of voice. "Well ... in that case, Wufei ... I accept your apology. And by the way - you do look quite comfortable in that."
Puzzled, he looked at me, finally working out that I meant his clothes. "...but ... why shouldn't I be?"
"Ah, well, that's true, isn't it?" I asked, smiling at him. "There really is no reason for you to be uncomfortable." Gesturing at the bookshelves, I asked, "Have you been able to take advantage of this yet?"
Had I not seen the change myself, I would not have believed it. Wufei's expression instantly transformed from a sullen, fixed look to one of eagerness. His eyes sparkled, the bitter lines between his eyebrows vanished, and his entire face appeared ... younger, more alive than I'd ever seen it. And it struck me at that moment that Wufei, with his exotic caramel skin and oriental features, standing in the middle of the room, his lithe figure still, completely unselfconscious, obviously in awe of the treasure trove in front of him ... was beautiful. He was a beautiful, rare young man, someone that anyone would want to -
Gods. My mouth felt dry as dust. That was not where I wanted my thoughts to go at all.
"I love to read myself. I was wondering what types of books are here," I continued, watching him in stupefied amazement. "It's been a long time since I've bee in a position where I've had - well - any free time ..."
"They're ... wonderful," he breathed, looking up at the highest shelves, his eyes shining. "I've never seen so many books in my life!" He took a moment to stare at them, sunlight falling on him naturally, his spotless white shirt gleaming. "I'm going to get through them all. After I kill him, I don't know when I'll have such a chance again."
I blinked. Wufei said 'after I kill him' in much the same manner as he would say 'after I eat breakfast.' I was no stranger to death; the people under my command put their lives on the line every single day, and we planned sorties and raids frequently, targeting specific military personnel. This, however, was different. I couldn't put my finger on it yet, but I knew it was.
"Um ... yes," I replied carefully, feeling a little cold inside. "That's going to take quite a while, Wufei." I turned my head slowly, looking at the shelves of books covering every inch of wallspace in the room. "There are so ... many ... here ..." And then I realized that Treize was standing in the alcove doorway, listening to our conversation, a pleased expression on his face.
"Yes." A slow sigh slipped through Wufei's lips as he considered the books one last time. His expression gradually became more shuttered and closed, until it finally shifted back into its habitual, sullen lines, his brilliant smile submerged beneath a glowering frown. Back to normal.
"So. I apologized. I'm going to breakfast. You can come in a few minutes - I'm setting the table."
I looked up at him. "You did apologize, Wufei, and as I said before, I do accept it. Thank you."
He nodded and turned to leave; only then did he notice Treize standing in the doorway, watching him. The general nodded at him, a slight smile pulling at his lips. Glaring, Wufei gave him a curt nod and stomped out of the library toward the dining room, a thinly veiled snort following him.
"Did you want a rose, Ms. Po? I think it would look splendid in your hair."
Treize looked beautifully lethal as he crossed the room, smiling, his gaze fastened on me. He strode right to the reading table and cupped one of the blossoms in his hand, the stem between his fingers, ready to collect that single bloom, waiting for my reply.
"Ah ... no, no thank you, General. I'd much prefer to see them together than to pluck a single one from the bunch."
"As you wish, Ms. Po." He withdrew his hand from the flower; I imagined its petals trembled in relief as it was returned to the vase. "They are lovely together, as you say." Turning toward the bookcases along the back wall, he tilted his head and walked over, running his long fingers over the spines of the books, inspecting them. "Would you like something to read instead? If I seem to be pouring on the hospitality, I am. I don't want you to be bored in my house." He stopped and looked back at me. "This doesn't have to be unpleasant," he added gently.
I looked up at him and sighed. He may not have known it, but he found at least one weakness of mine. "Yes ... in fact, I would like something to read."
"What is to your taste? I have ... a little bit of everything here. I'm never one to stay too long with one topic," he added, giving me a sideways glance, kneeling in front of the bookcase, "unless it TRULY fascinates me."
"Ah. Well, I enjoy most everything. Would you recommend something?"
"Mmmm..." He seemed to consider, his fingers hesitating over the backs of two different volumes, and gave me another amused, sidelong look. "Perhaps a murder mystery might be right up your alley." Pulling one slender book from the shelf, he straightened, walked over and handed me the book. "Inspiration?" he murmured, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
I couldn't suppress an answering grin. "Oh, why ... thank you."
"Of course, if you'd prefer something medical and dry, I can produce that, too ..."
He knew what he was doing, it was obvious; it was in his eyes, the way he looked at me, in his entire manner. Well, I could play, too - but I wasn't kidding.
"Oh, well," I said pleasantly, "the last time I was in school, I was studying pharmacology ... but that was a few years ago."
"Sou, dana. Better not let you near the kitchen then, hm?" He winked at me. "Perhaps a newspaper, then? You strike me, Ms. Po, as a woman who likes to know what is happening now."
I laughed. "That would be fine, General." The book was leather bound, smooth to the touch, and had a wonderfully soft feel to it as I looked at it and turned it over in my hands. "So ... you've read this? How does it end?"
"Dramatically," Treize said, smiling down. "Fu Manchu escapes, but his plan is defeated by the intrepid men set against him. It is a marvelous old book."
"Ah. Then the arch villain will have yet another chance, I fear."
"He does ... until the last book in the series." He looked back at the bookshelves, away from me; and his voice softened as he said, "But he ... he has had quite the time until then - ne? Lived his life to the fullest."
"I'm sure of it," I replied, curious at the change in his demeanor. Speaking with him was like speaking with five other people; everything he said had multiple meanings, and this was no exception. Who is he talking about? "I'm assuming this is not the last book in the series, though..."
"You are absolutely correct, Ms. Po - this is not the last book. In many ways, though, the last book is ... very sad."
"Not for the heroes, I'm sure," I said, hardly able to keep the dry sarcasm out of my tone. "They always seem to be satisfied in the end."
"Yes, for the heroes. You see, Ms. Po ... in the course of fighting, the heroes themselves have grown old. It is the end of their lives as much as it is anyone else's. The entire book is touched with just a hint of that sense. That things end. Hence, the victory is tainted. Not to mention -" He paused and stared right at me, his blue eyes intense, "- once one succeeds in one's goal - unless one has another, Ms. Po, then life becomes very sad indeed. There is nothing left."
"Ah. Well. Possibly, that's true." I looked up at him, raising one eyebrow delicately. "But the heroes will have their memories. The villain, I assume, is simply dead."
I smiled. Point for me.
"...but as I was saying to Wufei - I can't recall the last time I've had so much - time - to actually read. And it is something I enjoy very much."
"You will have that time here," Treize said, his voice warm. "There are things for you to do; and once the doctor proclaims you well enough, I can provide you with many other things, which I will. Circumstances aside, Ms. Po ... you ARE my guest."
"Well," I started, a little guarded, "I do enjoy outdoor sports ... fishing and the like - although hunting is not to my taste. Only for food, not for sport."
"I rather enjoy the hunt myself," Treize said, "although I suspect that may be mostly a gender difference."
Feh. I'll just bet you enjoy hunting.
"There are horses," he continued, "as you have undoubtedly noticed. Marvelous animals. It's taken me years to breed them to this particular shade of beauty."
"Yes, I did see them." I nodded at him, smiling. "Lovely confirmation. Beautiful creatures."
"Of course," Treize said. Smiling, he offered his arm to me. "Shall we go to breakfast?"
"Ah ... yes, thank you." I rose out of my chair and took his arm with a little smile. He patted my hand and drew me out of the library and into the dining room, his hand still over mine. The muscles in his arm were firm and tight; his forearm looked deceptively slim, but my fingers hardly stretched across it.
It dawned on me that killing him probably wasn't going to be an easy task at all.
Treize led me into the dining room; and the first thing I saw was Wufei, frowning mightily at the table.
"Almost perfect, Wufei. You've quite improved," Treize said with a smile.
"What did I miss?" Wufei was frowning in concentration, staring at the table.
I stiffened slightly. "You know, General, the table appears quite lovely ..."
Giving my hand a little pat, Treize dropped my arm, leaned over the table and switched two forks. "Oh, of course it does. This is simply a little assignment Wufei gave himself."
"... oh. I still can't tell the difference between these two ..." I watched Wufei busily switch the forks at each place setting.
Considering the weirdness of this morning, this was yet another piece of the bizarre. I swallowed and murmured to Wufei, "The china is beautiful, as is the silver ..."
"Un. I didn't pick it," Wufei muttered, crossing his arms, glaring critically at the table. "NOW is it right?"
Treize looked at the table, hesitating.
"Treize!" Wufei snapped, irritated.
"The teacup, Wufei, is too centered. More to the left."
I was staring. I knew it. I also knew that the last thing I ever expected to see was Chang Wufei, a gundam pilot who dueled Treize Khushrenada every day for the express purpose of killing him, taking direction from that very man on how to properly set a formal dining table.
"I did not assign this for him, Ms. Po," Treize said softly in my ear, as if he knew my thoughts. "He wished to learn it. He has not told me why."
"....oh. I see," I responded, my voice scarcely above a whisper as I watched Wufei mutter and fix the place settings once again.
"Well?" he snapped, peevish.
Treize smiled at him. "Perfect."
Grunting, Wufei nodded and plopped into his chair, apparently satisfied.
Treize pulled out a chair for me - the same one I chose the previous evening - and waited until I settled myself in it before seating himself at the head of the table. I glanced over at Wufei, and then down at the table; in fact, there was no discernable difference in the positioning of any of the plates or cutlery that I could see, and Wufei was back to being sulky again.
Absolutely ... positively ... bizarre. I peered at Wufei again. What was going on? He wasn't acting like a prisoner ... he wasn't being treated as a prisoner. It just didn't make sense.
"Eggs, Ms. Po?"
I turned and looked at Treize, who was serving from a silver tray. "And please, DO call me Treize. I prefer it. I even ask my subordinates to do so, and you are hardly that."
"Ah ... very well ... Treize." Using his first name was a very strange taste on my tongue. Somehow, it was ... more intimate. And really, I didn't like that - it was an odd sensation, one I couldn't identify and one with which I certainly didn't want to become familiar. I smiled wanly at him as I watched him scoop scrambled eggs, perfectly prepared, from the serving dish to my platter.
"Thank you," he said, smiling, as he handed me my plate.
Oh, good. Reward me with food. Suddenly, the eggs didn't seem to be as appetizing as they were a few moments ago; I took a few sliced tomatoes and moved them around on my plate, hoping that might make a difference.
It didn't.
"Wufei. You need protein."
I watched, amazed again, as Wufei sulkily reached for the cottage cheese and served himself. The glare he threw in Treize's direction would have killed a lesser man; but he did start eating, which was more than I could say for myself.
"I have a meeting this morning," Treize said to the table at large, raising one eyebrow and pointedly ignoring Wufei's behavior.
"Ah," Wufei said, throwing a sharp look in his direction.
"I'm not sure what time I will be returning," the general continued, "but you may have to introduce Dr. White, Wufei."
"Hai."
Treize glanced at Wufei, then without warning his gaze fell on me. "Ms. Po. I can trust you with his welfare, ne?"
I blinked at him, frowning slightly. What kind of weirdness was this? "Well .. yes, of course, Gene- .. ah, Treize."
"Don't let him overtrain," he said, eyeing Wufei, his attitude calm and collected.
In response, Wufei slammed his fork down and glared at Treize.
"Wufei," Treize said gently. "I know how you react when you lose poorly." Turning to me again, he said, "Stop him if he starts to overdo it."
A strangled, guttural sound was cut off as Wufei struggled to control himself, his face red with effort.
"Ah ... of course, Treize," I said faintly. No. Wait. I needed some time to wrap my mind around this concept. My jailor was leaving - and he was putting me in charge of ... another inmate? Just walking around the house ... free? Part of my mind wondered if he was going to leave me the keys to his car, as well.
Well, a map of the area would be nice, too. Plus a full tank of gas.
He stood in one fluid motion, the palms of his hands flat on the table, and looked at me with twinkling blue eyes. "Thank you, Ms. Po," he murmured gravely. "I must be going. The doctor will be here soon." Straightening, he put one hand into his coat pocket, dipped his head in acknowledgement and smiled. "I will see you both later," he said, with an extra nod to Wufei.
"Have a good day," I said, smiling insincerely, wishing he would simply vanish so I could speak with Wufei alone that much sooner.
But he wasn't going anywhere until Wufei acknowledged him, which he finally did, giving a grudging nod of his head.
"Thank you, Ms. Po, I hope to," Treize replied. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and flashed a set of keys in front of me with a very big smile - and good grief, I recognized those keys, there were only twelve machines like that built in the entire world-
"-adieu," he said, looking straight into my eyes again before leaving the room. I could swear he was laughing even though I didn't hear a sound.