OUT OF TUNE
Chapter Eight: Snow, Among Other Things…
Disclaimer: I don't own Trowa or Gundam Wing. (I do own…well, for his sake, we won't go into that…^_~)
I'm really sorry that I haven't updated this story in so long, but I hope that I can make up for it!! I've got two chapters coming up in a row! (So you all won't hurt me, right?)
This chapter's gonna develop on the various spectrums of fun of Trowa and Dorothy's relationship. Chapter Nine will focus a little more on the upcoming angst. This chapter may seem OOC, but when you in love…*sigh* you do crazy things.
Vid-phones were annoying, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. This train of thought entered both brain stations of our two heroes as they lay curled in the afternoon sunshine on Dorothy's bed. The guitar lay forgotten next to the bed and gathered the dust that danced in the air. Icicles could be seen from the window to their left and even the steady drip of water from the ice seemed to quicken with annoyance as the continuous shrill of the vid-phone cracked the comfortable silence the two had fallen into.
Dorothy shifted against Trowa's arm and looked up at him, meeting the warm skin covering the steel of his set jawbone. She sighed softly as she snuggled into the warmth that greeted her. Trowa's green eyes moved slowly down to her near white blonde hair and a small smile lit his face.
"Should I get it or do you want to?" Dorothy whispered into his neck. He hid the shivers that shot through his body at the electrifying feel of her warm breath coming in spurts as she spoke. He forgot what she said and shifted himself so he was lying on his side looking down at her.
"Trowa-" she began but he cut her off with a kiss to the side of her mouth. It was just a soft brush, barely there but it caught her off guard. In the distance, the two heard the phone stop ringing as the answering machine picked up the line and received the message of whoever had dared to interrupt their cuddling.
Dorothy's face lifted into a soft smile as her hand lifted up to wrap itself into Trowa's hair. However, her eyes danced with mischief as her lithe fingers tightened. With a sharp tug, she countered Trowa's surprise with one of her own. The one green eye visible to her shot open and he pulled away with a small cry. While soothing the back of his neck with one hand, Trowa glared down at his roommate. In "fear", she burst into giggles.
"TROWA!!! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!!!" screamed a very familiar voice. Trowa's mind automatically shifted from plans to avenge his poor hair to gundam pilot alertness. He rolled away from Dorothy and bolted for the vid-phone. Skidding to a stop in his Hanes socks (Trowa wears Hanes, don't argue with me!) he pressed the button only to be greeted by Duo's grinning face.
"I knew you'd pick up if I screamed," he said happily. His grin quickly disappeared as Hilde smacked him over the head.
"Yeah, like a girl!" she said moodily. Duo stuck his tongue out at her before turning back to Trowa.
"So what were you doing that was more important than me calling, hmm?" the Deathsycthe pilot asked suggestively. Trowa gaped for a good nanosecond before composing himself with a stoic face.
"What did you call for, Duo?" Trowa asked, his voice low and serious. He mentally rolled his eyes as he heard Dorothy giggle behind him. Duo's face fell but he shrugged it off.
"Well, the thing is, you know how Quatre is leaving for Earth, correct?" Trowa nodded. "Well, Hilde and me thought it be cool if we threw him a little leaving party but we don't want it at a restaurant, seeing as it would pose a very tempting terrorist target." Trowa was confused.
"So why call me?"
"We can't have it at Heero's, too small. Same for Sally, Wufei, and us, 'specially with all the new baby stuff. And Relena's is just too big for such a small affair," Duo said, leading up slowly to his big question. Trowa was beginning to catch on and he growled low in his throat.
"Why not Quatre's?" he asked, searching for a place to have the silly part other than his. Duo shook his head vigorously.
"You can't have a party for someone at said someone's house!"
"Why not? Wasn't Hilde's baby shower at your house?" Trowa reasoned. He opened his mouth again to continue his debate but Hilde burst into tears behind Duo.
"Please, don't talk about babies," Duo whispered into the screen. Trowa was about to ask why not when Hilde turned on Duo, her face red and her teeth bared in anger, tears still running down her cheeks.
"YOU DON'T CARE FOR THIS BABY OR ME!!!" she screamed. A large sweat drop formed on the side of Trowa's temple.
"Hilde, you know that's not-"
"YOU'RE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR!?!?!?!" she cried, her arms flailing. Dorothy rushed up behind Trowa, shoving him out of the way.
"What did you do to her?!" she demanded quietly of Trowa, who could only shrug in true male clulessness. "Hilde, honey, what's wrong?" she asked soothingly.
Hilde violently shoved poor Duo (slightly more informed than Trowa) off screen and looked up at Dorothy with large, wet eyes.
"He-*sob*-doesn't-*sob*-care-*sob*-about me-*sob*-and all the-*SNIFF*-pain I'm-*sob*-going through-*choke* *sob*." Dorothy nodded understandably before turning to Trowa and mouthing 'Pregnancy Hormones' at him. Trowa's mouth widened in a large O and he nodded, putting two and two together.
"Hilde, don't worry about Duo, he's just an idiot and he'll come around eventually," Dorothy said, loud enough for Duo to hear.
"HEY!!" The braided man appeared again and through her sobs, Hilde turned to him and punched him hard in the jaw. The pilot disappeared yet again from the screen. Trowa winced before reasoning that at least she hadn't kicked him anywhere. But then again, his other half debated, if she HAD kicked him, they wouldn't have to deal with any more pregnancy hormones…
***
Eventually, Dorothy had calmed Hilde down, who ended up breaking into more tears once she'd seen the large bruise she'd left on her boyfriend's face. The vid-phone discussion ended with Trowa and Dorothy accepting the offer to host a Quatre's going away/Christmas party and Hilde cuddling Duo, who was accepting her tear-soaked apologies more than happily.
Dorothy turned to Trowa, who had settled himself on the counter awaiting his coffee. Even though it was nearing 2:00 in the afternoon, the vid-phone conversation had left him with an immense need for something to settle his nerves. 'And since Dorothy was still on the phone, we had to settle for coffee!' the back end of his mind thought dejectedly.
"After all that, I think it's a very good idea not to have children," she said tiredly as she reached past him for her container of tea. Trowa smirked down at her as he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him.
"Oh come now, it wouldn't be all that bad, now would it?" he asked devilishly. Dorothy returned the smirk before throwing her head back.
"TROWA!!! I HATE YOU, YOU NEVER CARED FOR ME!!!!" she screamed, her eyes locked with his, as if asking to argue with her. Trowa's eyes widened and he quickly let go and backed away from her, hitting his head on the cupboard.
"OOF!" He let out a groan and Dorothy quickly stopped her rampaging.
"Trowa! Are you alright?" she asked, her arms wrapping around him and pulling his head down into her chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"
"Mime moke, Morothy," came the muffled reply. Trowa's warm breath against her breasts brought her back to attention and she quickly dropped her arms and pulled away, causing Trowa to drop from the counter to the floor without his usual grace.
"Ugh…"
"Well! You deserved it, you hentai!!!" she cried. Trowa pulled himself up, swaying slightly. He pointed an unsteady finger at her.
"You're the one who pulled me down towards them…." he gestured wildly towards her breasts, "things!" he finished. Dorothy's mouth opened wide before she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes.
"How-dare-you!" she cried. She turned away from him and stomped away to her room. Trowa swayed sharply to the right and then to the left before he fell forward onto the floor. 'Better to lay low anyway buddy,' he reasoned with a small groan.
When Dorothy finally decided to come out of her room, she found Trowa sitting at the kitchenette table, a large mug of coffee steaming next to him and the colony's newspaper laying in front of him. He covertly looked up at her through his hair and caught her looking at him. He picked up his head and met her stare. But she turned away from him on her heel and stomped into the bathroom.
Trowa sighed and turned back to his paper. Over the whistling of the teapot, he heard the shower turn on. He reached behind him and turned off the stove before turning back to the funny section of paper. Now just wasn't the time to be reading about the many mini-dramas taking place in the colonies. After reading the odd comic strip about a monkey walking into a bar with a polar bear and getting into a fight with a koala over an ostrich, Trowa decided to make the tea he'd been planning to get for Dorothy as a peace offering. He heard the shower turn off and the rustlings of the curtain. He poured the tea into a mug he'd noticed Dorothy had been particularly fond of and made his way to the doorway of the bathroom.
"Look, Trowa, I'm-" Dorothy stopped short. She'd opened the door expecting Trowa to still be sitting at the table. She hadn't expected him to be standing at the doorway at the bathroom looking at her with those irresistible eyes. Her resolution to be the first to apologize melted away as he offered her favorite mug full of steaming Chai tea to her. She grinned and took the mug gratefully, allowing him to pull her into a deep embrace.
"You were saying," he whispered into her damp, disheveled hair, breathing in the scent of that cursed yet wonderful Freesia Fantasy. Dorothy moved her head so she was looking up at him.
"I'm sorry." She smiled up at him brilliantly.
"Anything else?" he asked suggestively, his eyebrows rising. Dorothy glared at him playfully.
"Why yes, actually, there is something else."
"And that is?" he asked, taking the bait.
"Would you like to go shopping with me?"
If Trowa was the type to sweat drop and faint, he'd have done so now. However, he would only allow himself to sweat drop occasionally and this wasn't a good enough occasion. He did let his mouth hang open though and that would be a start. Dorothy giggled lightly, batting at his hair and pulling away from him. She set down her mug on the table and sat down, picking up the newspaper.
"How come the koala didn't win?" she demanded of the newspaper, pounding the table. NOW it was a good enough occasion. Trowa sweat dropped.
***
Evergreen orbs followed closely each move of a certain blonde woman as she recklessly charged through the crowds around them. Brightly colored shopping bags created a small buffer zone around the woman as she moved from store to store. They had done most of their shopping at large chain discount stores, like K-Mart (yeah, K-Mart is still alive and kickin' in the future, even if Martha Stewart isn't), and now had moved on to the downtown area for specifics. He turned around to check on his car. 'Not blown up or on blocks, that's a good sign,' his mind conceded as he turned back to Dorothy. He caught sight of her hair disappearing into a doorway of a dim looking shop. His pace quickened and he shoved a few Christmas shoppers out of his way to get inside the shop.
"How do women get OUT of these crowds?" he asked himself in a mutter as he pushed open the door. It was of purely Christmas décor and a heavy scent of pine and cinnamon clung to every air molecule. The small store seemed even smaller with the large number of shelves bunched close together and the overflowing knick-knacks crowding around the bases of the shelves.
Dorothy was weaving in and out of the shelves, squealing in delight when she found something she desperately needed for the apartment. Trowa, having no particular interest in Santa's or snowmen, decided to follow Dorothy instead of risk losing his sanity walking about on his own.
"Here, hold these." came Dorothy's voice as she shoved 5 matching Santa boxes into his arms.
"Not to sound critical, but what are these for exactly?" Trowa asked, inspecting the Santa's. Dorothy sighed, as if he were a child asking a stupid question.
"To decorate that large window pane in the living room, I have nothing to make it Christmas-y," she explained slowly. Trowa looked down at the Santa's, still perplexed but satisfied enough to take her word for it. Dorothy moved on to a back room full of racks of Christmas cards. Neon colored reindeer and impressionist style snowmen glared at him from their glossy papers.
"Which do you prefer, the dancing reindeer (^_^) or the Christmas ornaments?" Dorothy inquired, holding up two card samples. Trowa shrugged half-heartedly, turning to gaze out at the moving reindeer carousels on display outside the door.
THUD!!
"OW! What was that for?" Trowa asked, rubbing his head and glaring down at the box of Christmas cards lying at his feet.
"Don't just shrug, this is important!" Dorothy said loudly. Trowa looked up at her, slightly perplexed.
"Why are Christmas cards important?" he countered. Dorothy faltered a little, pausing to think.
"You send them out to people, it's tradition!" she replied, smiling in self-satisfaction.
"Who do we have to send them to?" he asked, leaning back in a questioning air. Dorothy smiled and began counting people off on her fingers.
"Relena, Heero, Duo and Hilde, Quatre, Quatre's Magunacs, Wufei and Sally, Zechs and Noin, and-" Trowa held up a hand.
"Quatre's Magunacs?!" he demanded. Dorothy nodded.
"Of course!"
"I don't think they even celebrate Christmas, Dorothy," Trowa said, shaking his head and smiling. Dorothy's mouth widened.
"Why wouldn't they?" she asked, forgetting that the Magunacs were of Arabian descent.
"*Ahem*, perhaps they're religion?" he reminded her. The concept clicked in her head but she ignored it, the argument was just too fun to let him win.
"So, I'm sure they'd still like a card! And any way, even if they don't like Christmas cards, they won't feel forgotten! As I was saying, there's also my secretary, the Duke-" Trowa's eyes widened.
"You're sending a card to Duke Dermail?!"
"And why not?!" she asked, eagerly awaiting his answer.
"Why would you send one to HIM?" he questioned. Dorothy opened her mouth to yell at him that he was her grandfather but stopped. 'Why should I send one to him?' she asked herself. Her shoulders slumped as she fell into deep thought, remembering all the times he'd forgotten to even wish her a Merry Christmas while she lived with him. A small frown darkened her face and it didn't go unseen by Trowa. With his eyes still on her, he crouched down and picked up the box of cards and walked over to her.
"Here," he said, handing the box to her while shifting the Santa boxes in his arms. With all five in one arm, he wrapped the free one around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked in her hair in a light whisper. Dorothy shook her head but memories were spilling in as she did.
Her first Christmases were happy ones, spent with her father. He doted on her, held her. She wasn't a princess, she was a goddess. But when he died and she was sent to live with her grandfather, everything changed, including Christmas. The 25th always held its charm, but she learned to hide it. When she was sent to the same academy that had once housed her cousin Treize Kushrenada, Milliardo Peacecraft, and Lucrezia Noin she lost her hope for Christmas. She lost most of her hope for everything.
Trowa gently traced circles and odd designs into her shoulder as he moved his head down to face her. He the top of her forehead.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly before moving down to kiss her cheek. Dorothy put on a small, distant smile and turned in his arms to face the Christmas cards. Trowa watched in silent grief as the warm, smiling face was replaced with a set, porcelain mask. He took his arm away and set his burden down.
"Come here," he demanded gently, gesturing towards her. She resisted, moving away.
"Trowa, we need to get this shopping done. Party is-" Trowa raised a hand to her lips and smiled.
"It's next week. Come here," he said, pulling her to his chest. His long hands enveloped her face and pulled it up to face him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just thinking about family and- Oh my gosh!! Marameia!" she exclaimed, pulling away from Trowa yet again. "I forgot to pick up her present!" Frantically, she grabbed Trowa's wrist to check the time. Her tense shoulders slumped again.
"Dorothy?"
"The store's closed, I won't be able to pick it up until Monday! Damn…" she trailed off as she looked up at Trowa's face. He was smiling.
He placed his hands on her face again and held her there, with his hands and his eyes. He leaned down and set his forehead against hers.
"Alright, Magunacs get a card, Dermail gets a card, and I'll pick up Marameia's present for you on Monday, just tell me what it is. And in return-" He lifted his head and put his hand under her chin. "You smile for me."
***
They walked out of the store in much the same mood as they had entered it, despite Dorothy's relapse in Christmas spirit. As the two neared Trowa's car, large, soft tuft like snowflakes began to fall around them. Dorothy looked up, her gray eyes sparkling and the smile she'd promised Trowa lighting her face yet again.
"This is my favorite kind of snow," she told him, twirling around in the street. Trowa laughed and pulled her to the curb.
"Crazy lady," he said through his laughter. Dorothy playfully smacked him with a shopping bag but continued to twirl.
"Jealous?" she asked, her own laughter ringing in the crisp air. Trowa shook his head, snow clinging to his hair.
"Nah, just worried about sharing an apartment with someone who needs to be in an asylum," he joked. Dorothy glared at him but her smile stayed in place. Once they'd reached the car, she placed each bag of decorations carefully in the backseat before turning to Trowa who was about to open the driver's door and start the car.
"Walk with me," she demanded, latching on to the arm holding open the door.
"What?"
"You heard me, let's go for a walk," she replied, tugging at his jacket. Trowa looked back at the car and shrugged. He stepped out back onto the curb, locked the car again, and turned to her.
"Where to, milady?" he inquired, bowing and offering his arm. Dorothy giggled in child-like delight and wrapped her arm through his.
"That park over there," she said, pointing to the large park that occupied the center of the downtown business area of the colony. A curvy path that wound around the park and intertwined with smaller, unpaved paths that led to benches were lit by large Gothic style lampposts. On each of those posts twined a thick evergreen garland complete with large white Christmas light bulbs, adding a charming and romantic light to the park.
The snow was piling up on the remains of the previous night's fall. Although the colony rarely let the snowfall accumulate to more than a foot, it did provide a very natural feel to the spontaneity of the snowfalls. Dorothy let go of Trowa's arm and stepped onto the large lawn that was now white.
"Dorothy?"
"Follow me." Was her only reply. He complied, keeping hold of her small hand. She led him away from any of the paths to a small gazebo that was placed in the center of the park. Although this place was usually teeming with young lovers and teenagers hoping for a first kiss, it was empty now save for an old couple that were exiting the platform anyway. Dorothy's eyes followed their movements, her face gleaming. Trowa raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze.
The older two were holding hands, in much the same manner as Trowa and Dorothy. The women's long silver hair was flowing in the colony's wind, brushing against the old man's shoulder. He was beaming down at the lady, the corners of his eyes bearing the crow's feet that came with extensive smiling. His laugh lines matched her own. A pair of worn wedding bands gleamed in the last remnants of the colony's light. They had obviously led a happy life together.
"I love this song," Dorothy whispered. Trowa pulled himself from his reverie and looked down at her. As he returned to reality her realized what she meant. Greensleeves, an old Christmas song, had started playing on the sound system of the park. Dorothy's hand left his and she began to slowly sway in time with the music. Her face was relaxed and her eyes were gently shut, as if hearing the music and seeing the park at the same time would be too much of a sensation overload. Trowa's smile widened and he stepped closer to the girl, one hand going to her waist and the other to her outstretched hand.
"I can't dance," she whispered, her eyes fluttering open. Trowa chuckled.
"Neither can I." Dorothy laughed and she laid her head on his shoulder as they gracefully blundered their way around the gazebo. They didn't part until two songs later, somehow managing to continue slow dancing through Jingle Bells. The old couple had long since disappeared when the two decided that it would be best to make their way back to the car and go home for some cocoa.
Trowa looked up at the sky and noticed that the artificial night that was timed to mock the shortening of days on earth was now creeping up on them as the light of the colony dimmed down. Dorothy huddled closer to Trowa looking for warmth and his presence. The pilot shook free his arm and draped it across her shoulders. His long reach easily allowed him to pull up the collar of her dark gray pea coat.
"Thanks," she whispered into his shoulder. Trowa nodded in reply, looking back at the path. He didn't want to alarm the young woman in his arms but the cold realization that something was wrong haunted his mind. He turned his head, placing his chin atop her head. But it was a cover so he could peer behind him.
"I thought so," he whispered, catching sight of what he was looking for. Two young men, dressed all in black, were watching them from a good distance away. He turned away and hurried his pace, enough to be effective but not enough to alarm either Dorothy or the Preventers following them.
***
"We should report back to Mr. Winner, don'tchya think Jack?" Alex asked of his partner. Jack nodded, his eyes following the couple as they left the park. 'Why does Mr. Winner want us following this stupid chic? Is he crazy?!' Jack questioned himself as he rubbed life into his frozen limbs.
"You go on ahead, get back to headquarters. I'll be there in a minute," Jack ordered Alex. The younger blonde nodded, saluted, and retreated quickly to his own car. Jack sat awhile longer, watching the two get in their car and drive away. His mind wandered to the day before.
* "You're Private Sony, aren't you?" A voice asked Jack as he made his way down the hallway. Jack turned to face the gundam pilot Quatre Raberba Winner. The blonde man regarded him with detached aquamarine eyes. Jack Sony had heard of how 3 years of running his father's affairs had left the once vibrant Winner empty. It was rumored that the Space Heart that had once allowed the richest of the pilots the ability to feel what his friends felt had left him, along with his naivety.
Jack nodded.
"Yes sir, I'm Private Sony," Jack replied respectively. The pilot's stance demanded respect. No longer being the thin, boy-faced 15 yr. Old, Mr. Winner had become almost as tall as Capt. Barton, definitely as muscular as Capt. Maxwell, and nearly as stoic as General Yuy.
"I have a favor that I would like to ask of you," the pilot said, clasping a once delicate, regal hand on Jack's shoulder. He led him into an empty office, opening the door with the keys that had been given to him by Lady Une herself. He pushed Jack into a chair opposite the desk and threw down before him a portfolio of different snapshots of a woman.
"This woman is a very dear friend of mine," Quatre told Jack, staring at the opposite wall. "However, as dear to me as she is, she has a very unwanted job to do. Don't ask just what it is, I will not answer. Don't ask what her name is, I will not answer. All you need to do is follow her, find out whom she is with, where exactly she is living now, etc. You have your choice of a partner if you want, I myself would prefer that you work alone. But not a word of this to anyone else, Preventer or otherwise. This is just between you and me," Quatre finished. He was about to leave the room when Jack spoke up.
"Why me?" he asked. Quatre turned around. His eyes were somewhat distant again as they peered down at the younger man.
"As cliché as it sounds, you remind me of myself when I was still a Preventer. You'll be paid good money if you get me the information that we need," Quatre replied, stepping out of the door.
"We?" Jack whispered. 'Mr. Winner had said "we"…I wonder who he's working for…' *
After a day of following the same lady around, Jack Sony stood up and stretched and decided that he'd done his job satisfactorily. However, the gnawing curiosity of who the woman was or what she was needed for would keep him up the rest of that night.
Thanks y'all for reading and for waiting for this chapter to come out. I'll be posting this along with Chapter Nine, to make up for my absence. I hope this will atone for my sins lol. (if I were to seek atonement through writing, I'd have to write the a book the size of War and Peace, Gone With the Wind, all the Lord of the Rings books, and the Bible combined!! Lol)
MadameHotaru.of.87
Chapter Eight: Snow, Among Other Things…
Disclaimer: I don't own Trowa or Gundam Wing. (I do own…well, for his sake, we won't go into that…^_~)
I'm really sorry that I haven't updated this story in so long, but I hope that I can make up for it!! I've got two chapters coming up in a row! (So you all won't hurt me, right?)
This chapter's gonna develop on the various spectrums of fun of Trowa and Dorothy's relationship. Chapter Nine will focus a little more on the upcoming angst. This chapter may seem OOC, but when you in love…*sigh* you do crazy things.
Vid-phones were annoying, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. This train of thought entered both brain stations of our two heroes as they lay curled in the afternoon sunshine on Dorothy's bed. The guitar lay forgotten next to the bed and gathered the dust that danced in the air. Icicles could be seen from the window to their left and even the steady drip of water from the ice seemed to quicken with annoyance as the continuous shrill of the vid-phone cracked the comfortable silence the two had fallen into.
Dorothy shifted against Trowa's arm and looked up at him, meeting the warm skin covering the steel of his set jawbone. She sighed softly as she snuggled into the warmth that greeted her. Trowa's green eyes moved slowly down to her near white blonde hair and a small smile lit his face.
"Should I get it or do you want to?" Dorothy whispered into his neck. He hid the shivers that shot through his body at the electrifying feel of her warm breath coming in spurts as she spoke. He forgot what she said and shifted himself so he was lying on his side looking down at her.
"Trowa-" she began but he cut her off with a kiss to the side of her mouth. It was just a soft brush, barely there but it caught her off guard. In the distance, the two heard the phone stop ringing as the answering machine picked up the line and received the message of whoever had dared to interrupt their cuddling.
Dorothy's face lifted into a soft smile as her hand lifted up to wrap itself into Trowa's hair. However, her eyes danced with mischief as her lithe fingers tightened. With a sharp tug, she countered Trowa's surprise with one of her own. The one green eye visible to her shot open and he pulled away with a small cry. While soothing the back of his neck with one hand, Trowa glared down at his roommate. In "fear", she burst into giggles.
"TROWA!!! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!!!" screamed a very familiar voice. Trowa's mind automatically shifted from plans to avenge his poor hair to gundam pilot alertness. He rolled away from Dorothy and bolted for the vid-phone. Skidding to a stop in his Hanes socks (Trowa wears Hanes, don't argue with me!) he pressed the button only to be greeted by Duo's grinning face.
"I knew you'd pick up if I screamed," he said happily. His grin quickly disappeared as Hilde smacked him over the head.
"Yeah, like a girl!" she said moodily. Duo stuck his tongue out at her before turning back to Trowa.
"So what were you doing that was more important than me calling, hmm?" the Deathsycthe pilot asked suggestively. Trowa gaped for a good nanosecond before composing himself with a stoic face.
"What did you call for, Duo?" Trowa asked, his voice low and serious. He mentally rolled his eyes as he heard Dorothy giggle behind him. Duo's face fell but he shrugged it off.
"Well, the thing is, you know how Quatre is leaving for Earth, correct?" Trowa nodded. "Well, Hilde and me thought it be cool if we threw him a little leaving party but we don't want it at a restaurant, seeing as it would pose a very tempting terrorist target." Trowa was confused.
"So why call me?"
"We can't have it at Heero's, too small. Same for Sally, Wufei, and us, 'specially with all the new baby stuff. And Relena's is just too big for such a small affair," Duo said, leading up slowly to his big question. Trowa was beginning to catch on and he growled low in his throat.
"Why not Quatre's?" he asked, searching for a place to have the silly part other than his. Duo shook his head vigorously.
"You can't have a party for someone at said someone's house!"
"Why not? Wasn't Hilde's baby shower at your house?" Trowa reasoned. He opened his mouth again to continue his debate but Hilde burst into tears behind Duo.
"Please, don't talk about babies," Duo whispered into the screen. Trowa was about to ask why not when Hilde turned on Duo, her face red and her teeth bared in anger, tears still running down her cheeks.
"YOU DON'T CARE FOR THIS BABY OR ME!!!" she screamed. A large sweat drop formed on the side of Trowa's temple.
"Hilde, you know that's not-"
"YOU'RE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR!?!?!?!" she cried, her arms flailing. Dorothy rushed up behind Trowa, shoving him out of the way.
"What did you do to her?!" she demanded quietly of Trowa, who could only shrug in true male clulessness. "Hilde, honey, what's wrong?" she asked soothingly.
Hilde violently shoved poor Duo (slightly more informed than Trowa) off screen and looked up at Dorothy with large, wet eyes.
"He-*sob*-doesn't-*sob*-care-*sob*-about me-*sob*-and all the-*SNIFF*-pain I'm-*sob*-going through-*choke* *sob*." Dorothy nodded understandably before turning to Trowa and mouthing 'Pregnancy Hormones' at him. Trowa's mouth widened in a large O and he nodded, putting two and two together.
"Hilde, don't worry about Duo, he's just an idiot and he'll come around eventually," Dorothy said, loud enough for Duo to hear.
"HEY!!" The braided man appeared again and through her sobs, Hilde turned to him and punched him hard in the jaw. The pilot disappeared yet again from the screen. Trowa winced before reasoning that at least she hadn't kicked him anywhere. But then again, his other half debated, if she HAD kicked him, they wouldn't have to deal with any more pregnancy hormones…
***
Eventually, Dorothy had calmed Hilde down, who ended up breaking into more tears once she'd seen the large bruise she'd left on her boyfriend's face. The vid-phone discussion ended with Trowa and Dorothy accepting the offer to host a Quatre's going away/Christmas party and Hilde cuddling Duo, who was accepting her tear-soaked apologies more than happily.
Dorothy turned to Trowa, who had settled himself on the counter awaiting his coffee. Even though it was nearing 2:00 in the afternoon, the vid-phone conversation had left him with an immense need for something to settle his nerves. 'And since Dorothy was still on the phone, we had to settle for coffee!' the back end of his mind thought dejectedly.
"After all that, I think it's a very good idea not to have children," she said tiredly as she reached past him for her container of tea. Trowa smirked down at her as he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him.
"Oh come now, it wouldn't be all that bad, now would it?" he asked devilishly. Dorothy returned the smirk before throwing her head back.
"TROWA!!! I HATE YOU, YOU NEVER CARED FOR ME!!!!" she screamed, her eyes locked with his, as if asking to argue with her. Trowa's eyes widened and he quickly let go and backed away from her, hitting his head on the cupboard.
"OOF!" He let out a groan and Dorothy quickly stopped her rampaging.
"Trowa! Are you alright?" she asked, her arms wrapping around him and pulling his head down into her chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"
"Mime moke, Morothy," came the muffled reply. Trowa's warm breath against her breasts brought her back to attention and she quickly dropped her arms and pulled away, causing Trowa to drop from the counter to the floor without his usual grace.
"Ugh…"
"Well! You deserved it, you hentai!!!" she cried. Trowa pulled himself up, swaying slightly. He pointed an unsteady finger at her.
"You're the one who pulled me down towards them…." he gestured wildly towards her breasts, "things!" he finished. Dorothy's mouth opened wide before she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes.
"How-dare-you!" she cried. She turned away from him and stomped away to her room. Trowa swayed sharply to the right and then to the left before he fell forward onto the floor. 'Better to lay low anyway buddy,' he reasoned with a small groan.
When Dorothy finally decided to come out of her room, she found Trowa sitting at the kitchenette table, a large mug of coffee steaming next to him and the colony's newspaper laying in front of him. He covertly looked up at her through his hair and caught her looking at him. He picked up his head and met her stare. But she turned away from him on her heel and stomped into the bathroom.
Trowa sighed and turned back to his paper. Over the whistling of the teapot, he heard the shower turn on. He reached behind him and turned off the stove before turning back to the funny section of paper. Now just wasn't the time to be reading about the many mini-dramas taking place in the colonies. After reading the odd comic strip about a monkey walking into a bar with a polar bear and getting into a fight with a koala over an ostrich, Trowa decided to make the tea he'd been planning to get for Dorothy as a peace offering. He heard the shower turn off and the rustlings of the curtain. He poured the tea into a mug he'd noticed Dorothy had been particularly fond of and made his way to the doorway of the bathroom.
"Look, Trowa, I'm-" Dorothy stopped short. She'd opened the door expecting Trowa to still be sitting at the table. She hadn't expected him to be standing at the doorway at the bathroom looking at her with those irresistible eyes. Her resolution to be the first to apologize melted away as he offered her favorite mug full of steaming Chai tea to her. She grinned and took the mug gratefully, allowing him to pull her into a deep embrace.
"You were saying," he whispered into her damp, disheveled hair, breathing in the scent of that cursed yet wonderful Freesia Fantasy. Dorothy moved her head so she was looking up at him.
"I'm sorry." She smiled up at him brilliantly.
"Anything else?" he asked suggestively, his eyebrows rising. Dorothy glared at him playfully.
"Why yes, actually, there is something else."
"And that is?" he asked, taking the bait.
"Would you like to go shopping with me?"
If Trowa was the type to sweat drop and faint, he'd have done so now. However, he would only allow himself to sweat drop occasionally and this wasn't a good enough occasion. He did let his mouth hang open though and that would be a start. Dorothy giggled lightly, batting at his hair and pulling away from him. She set down her mug on the table and sat down, picking up the newspaper.
"How come the koala didn't win?" she demanded of the newspaper, pounding the table. NOW it was a good enough occasion. Trowa sweat dropped.
***
Evergreen orbs followed closely each move of a certain blonde woman as she recklessly charged through the crowds around them. Brightly colored shopping bags created a small buffer zone around the woman as she moved from store to store. They had done most of their shopping at large chain discount stores, like K-Mart (yeah, K-Mart is still alive and kickin' in the future, even if Martha Stewart isn't), and now had moved on to the downtown area for specifics. He turned around to check on his car. 'Not blown up or on blocks, that's a good sign,' his mind conceded as he turned back to Dorothy. He caught sight of her hair disappearing into a doorway of a dim looking shop. His pace quickened and he shoved a few Christmas shoppers out of his way to get inside the shop.
"How do women get OUT of these crowds?" he asked himself in a mutter as he pushed open the door. It was of purely Christmas décor and a heavy scent of pine and cinnamon clung to every air molecule. The small store seemed even smaller with the large number of shelves bunched close together and the overflowing knick-knacks crowding around the bases of the shelves.
Dorothy was weaving in and out of the shelves, squealing in delight when she found something she desperately needed for the apartment. Trowa, having no particular interest in Santa's or snowmen, decided to follow Dorothy instead of risk losing his sanity walking about on his own.
"Here, hold these." came Dorothy's voice as she shoved 5 matching Santa boxes into his arms.
"Not to sound critical, but what are these for exactly?" Trowa asked, inspecting the Santa's. Dorothy sighed, as if he were a child asking a stupid question.
"To decorate that large window pane in the living room, I have nothing to make it Christmas-y," she explained slowly. Trowa looked down at the Santa's, still perplexed but satisfied enough to take her word for it. Dorothy moved on to a back room full of racks of Christmas cards. Neon colored reindeer and impressionist style snowmen glared at him from their glossy papers.
"Which do you prefer, the dancing reindeer (^_^) or the Christmas ornaments?" Dorothy inquired, holding up two card samples. Trowa shrugged half-heartedly, turning to gaze out at the moving reindeer carousels on display outside the door.
THUD!!
"OW! What was that for?" Trowa asked, rubbing his head and glaring down at the box of Christmas cards lying at his feet.
"Don't just shrug, this is important!" Dorothy said loudly. Trowa looked up at her, slightly perplexed.
"Why are Christmas cards important?" he countered. Dorothy faltered a little, pausing to think.
"You send them out to people, it's tradition!" she replied, smiling in self-satisfaction.
"Who do we have to send them to?" he asked, leaning back in a questioning air. Dorothy smiled and began counting people off on her fingers.
"Relena, Heero, Duo and Hilde, Quatre, Quatre's Magunacs, Wufei and Sally, Zechs and Noin, and-" Trowa held up a hand.
"Quatre's Magunacs?!" he demanded. Dorothy nodded.
"Of course!"
"I don't think they even celebrate Christmas, Dorothy," Trowa said, shaking his head and smiling. Dorothy's mouth widened.
"Why wouldn't they?" she asked, forgetting that the Magunacs were of Arabian descent.
"*Ahem*, perhaps they're religion?" he reminded her. The concept clicked in her head but she ignored it, the argument was just too fun to let him win.
"So, I'm sure they'd still like a card! And any way, even if they don't like Christmas cards, they won't feel forgotten! As I was saying, there's also my secretary, the Duke-" Trowa's eyes widened.
"You're sending a card to Duke Dermail?!"
"And why not?!" she asked, eagerly awaiting his answer.
"Why would you send one to HIM?" he questioned. Dorothy opened her mouth to yell at him that he was her grandfather but stopped. 'Why should I send one to him?' she asked herself. Her shoulders slumped as she fell into deep thought, remembering all the times he'd forgotten to even wish her a Merry Christmas while she lived with him. A small frown darkened her face and it didn't go unseen by Trowa. With his eyes still on her, he crouched down and picked up the box of cards and walked over to her.
"Here," he said, handing the box to her while shifting the Santa boxes in his arms. With all five in one arm, he wrapped the free one around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked in her hair in a light whisper. Dorothy shook her head but memories were spilling in as she did.
Her first Christmases were happy ones, spent with her father. He doted on her, held her. She wasn't a princess, she was a goddess. But when he died and she was sent to live with her grandfather, everything changed, including Christmas. The 25th always held its charm, but she learned to hide it. When she was sent to the same academy that had once housed her cousin Treize Kushrenada, Milliardo Peacecraft, and Lucrezia Noin she lost her hope for Christmas. She lost most of her hope for everything.
Trowa gently traced circles and odd designs into her shoulder as he moved his head down to face her. He the top of her forehead.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly before moving down to kiss her cheek. Dorothy put on a small, distant smile and turned in his arms to face the Christmas cards. Trowa watched in silent grief as the warm, smiling face was replaced with a set, porcelain mask. He took his arm away and set his burden down.
"Come here," he demanded gently, gesturing towards her. She resisted, moving away.
"Trowa, we need to get this shopping done. Party is-" Trowa raised a hand to her lips and smiled.
"It's next week. Come here," he said, pulling her to his chest. His long hands enveloped her face and pulled it up to face him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just thinking about family and- Oh my gosh!! Marameia!" she exclaimed, pulling away from Trowa yet again. "I forgot to pick up her present!" Frantically, she grabbed Trowa's wrist to check the time. Her tense shoulders slumped again.
"Dorothy?"
"The store's closed, I won't be able to pick it up until Monday! Damn…" she trailed off as she looked up at Trowa's face. He was smiling.
He placed his hands on her face again and held her there, with his hands and his eyes. He leaned down and set his forehead against hers.
"Alright, Magunacs get a card, Dermail gets a card, and I'll pick up Marameia's present for you on Monday, just tell me what it is. And in return-" He lifted his head and put his hand under her chin. "You smile for me."
***
They walked out of the store in much the same mood as they had entered it, despite Dorothy's relapse in Christmas spirit. As the two neared Trowa's car, large, soft tuft like snowflakes began to fall around them. Dorothy looked up, her gray eyes sparkling and the smile she'd promised Trowa lighting her face yet again.
"This is my favorite kind of snow," she told him, twirling around in the street. Trowa laughed and pulled her to the curb.
"Crazy lady," he said through his laughter. Dorothy playfully smacked him with a shopping bag but continued to twirl.
"Jealous?" she asked, her own laughter ringing in the crisp air. Trowa shook his head, snow clinging to his hair.
"Nah, just worried about sharing an apartment with someone who needs to be in an asylum," he joked. Dorothy glared at him but her smile stayed in place. Once they'd reached the car, she placed each bag of decorations carefully in the backseat before turning to Trowa who was about to open the driver's door and start the car.
"Walk with me," she demanded, latching on to the arm holding open the door.
"What?"
"You heard me, let's go for a walk," she replied, tugging at his jacket. Trowa looked back at the car and shrugged. He stepped out back onto the curb, locked the car again, and turned to her.
"Where to, milady?" he inquired, bowing and offering his arm. Dorothy giggled in child-like delight and wrapped her arm through his.
"That park over there," she said, pointing to the large park that occupied the center of the downtown business area of the colony. A curvy path that wound around the park and intertwined with smaller, unpaved paths that led to benches were lit by large Gothic style lampposts. On each of those posts twined a thick evergreen garland complete with large white Christmas light bulbs, adding a charming and romantic light to the park.
The snow was piling up on the remains of the previous night's fall. Although the colony rarely let the snowfall accumulate to more than a foot, it did provide a very natural feel to the spontaneity of the snowfalls. Dorothy let go of Trowa's arm and stepped onto the large lawn that was now white.
"Dorothy?"
"Follow me." Was her only reply. He complied, keeping hold of her small hand. She led him away from any of the paths to a small gazebo that was placed in the center of the park. Although this place was usually teeming with young lovers and teenagers hoping for a first kiss, it was empty now save for an old couple that were exiting the platform anyway. Dorothy's eyes followed their movements, her face gleaming. Trowa raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze.
The older two were holding hands, in much the same manner as Trowa and Dorothy. The women's long silver hair was flowing in the colony's wind, brushing against the old man's shoulder. He was beaming down at the lady, the corners of his eyes bearing the crow's feet that came with extensive smiling. His laugh lines matched her own. A pair of worn wedding bands gleamed in the last remnants of the colony's light. They had obviously led a happy life together.
"I love this song," Dorothy whispered. Trowa pulled himself from his reverie and looked down at her. As he returned to reality her realized what she meant. Greensleeves, an old Christmas song, had started playing on the sound system of the park. Dorothy's hand left his and she began to slowly sway in time with the music. Her face was relaxed and her eyes were gently shut, as if hearing the music and seeing the park at the same time would be too much of a sensation overload. Trowa's smile widened and he stepped closer to the girl, one hand going to her waist and the other to her outstretched hand.
"I can't dance," she whispered, her eyes fluttering open. Trowa chuckled.
"Neither can I." Dorothy laughed and she laid her head on his shoulder as they gracefully blundered their way around the gazebo. They didn't part until two songs later, somehow managing to continue slow dancing through Jingle Bells. The old couple had long since disappeared when the two decided that it would be best to make their way back to the car and go home for some cocoa.
Trowa looked up at the sky and noticed that the artificial night that was timed to mock the shortening of days on earth was now creeping up on them as the light of the colony dimmed down. Dorothy huddled closer to Trowa looking for warmth and his presence. The pilot shook free his arm and draped it across her shoulders. His long reach easily allowed him to pull up the collar of her dark gray pea coat.
"Thanks," she whispered into his shoulder. Trowa nodded in reply, looking back at the path. He didn't want to alarm the young woman in his arms but the cold realization that something was wrong haunted his mind. He turned his head, placing his chin atop her head. But it was a cover so he could peer behind him.
"I thought so," he whispered, catching sight of what he was looking for. Two young men, dressed all in black, were watching them from a good distance away. He turned away and hurried his pace, enough to be effective but not enough to alarm either Dorothy or the Preventers following them.
***
"We should report back to Mr. Winner, don'tchya think Jack?" Alex asked of his partner. Jack nodded, his eyes following the couple as they left the park. 'Why does Mr. Winner want us following this stupid chic? Is he crazy?!' Jack questioned himself as he rubbed life into his frozen limbs.
"You go on ahead, get back to headquarters. I'll be there in a minute," Jack ordered Alex. The younger blonde nodded, saluted, and retreated quickly to his own car. Jack sat awhile longer, watching the two get in their car and drive away. His mind wandered to the day before.
* "You're Private Sony, aren't you?" A voice asked Jack as he made his way down the hallway. Jack turned to face the gundam pilot Quatre Raberba Winner. The blonde man regarded him with detached aquamarine eyes. Jack Sony had heard of how 3 years of running his father's affairs had left the once vibrant Winner empty. It was rumored that the Space Heart that had once allowed the richest of the pilots the ability to feel what his friends felt had left him, along with his naivety.
Jack nodded.
"Yes sir, I'm Private Sony," Jack replied respectively. The pilot's stance demanded respect. No longer being the thin, boy-faced 15 yr. Old, Mr. Winner had become almost as tall as Capt. Barton, definitely as muscular as Capt. Maxwell, and nearly as stoic as General Yuy.
"I have a favor that I would like to ask of you," the pilot said, clasping a once delicate, regal hand on Jack's shoulder. He led him into an empty office, opening the door with the keys that had been given to him by Lady Une herself. He pushed Jack into a chair opposite the desk and threw down before him a portfolio of different snapshots of a woman.
"This woman is a very dear friend of mine," Quatre told Jack, staring at the opposite wall. "However, as dear to me as she is, she has a very unwanted job to do. Don't ask just what it is, I will not answer. Don't ask what her name is, I will not answer. All you need to do is follow her, find out whom she is with, where exactly she is living now, etc. You have your choice of a partner if you want, I myself would prefer that you work alone. But not a word of this to anyone else, Preventer or otherwise. This is just between you and me," Quatre finished. He was about to leave the room when Jack spoke up.
"Why me?" he asked. Quatre turned around. His eyes were somewhat distant again as they peered down at the younger man.
"As cliché as it sounds, you remind me of myself when I was still a Preventer. You'll be paid good money if you get me the information that we need," Quatre replied, stepping out of the door.
"We?" Jack whispered. 'Mr. Winner had said "we"…I wonder who he's working for…' *
After a day of following the same lady around, Jack Sony stood up and stretched and decided that he'd done his job satisfactorily. However, the gnawing curiosity of who the woman was or what she was needed for would keep him up the rest of that night.
Thanks y'all for reading and for waiting for this chapter to come out. I'll be posting this along with Chapter Nine, to make up for my absence. I hope this will atone for my sins lol. (if I were to seek atonement through writing, I'd have to write the a book the size of War and Peace, Gone With the Wind, all the Lord of the Rings books, and the Bible combined!! Lol)
MadameHotaru.of.87