Lights and Shadows

By Misanagi

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: DxR, 3x4

Spoilers: The end of the series.

Summary: Dorothy has lunch with a friend, and tells him about the recent developments in her life. Dorothy's POV (sequel to "Inverse" but it can also be read on its own.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.

Archive: Gundanium Line

Big hugs to Anne. Thanks a lot for beta reading.


She wanted to know how it went. I told her; I tried to recreate the dialogue so that I could tell her everything as detailed as possible, but she wouldn't understand anyway. She knew that but she didn't mind; she smiled at me, nodded and laughed at the appropriate parts. There is something odd about her laugh, it feels sincere; it's a joyous laugh. At least that's how it sounds when she's really laughing and not when she is giving that defective copy she uses on the politicians and reporters. I'm proud to say that I'm among the few who have heard her true laugh. After I was done with my little tale, she kissed me; her lips barely touching mine, showing that shyness she hides so well. Then she left; she was going to see him.

Heero Yuy isn't someone I can say I know, but he is someone that I respect. His strength and control have always been admirable, but as someone who has spent her life wearing masks, I can easily detect one. I might not know the real Heero Yuy, but she does. It must be something about her nature, the way she is. After all, she wasn't fooled by my masks either. It takes a very special person to be able to see through Heero Yuy's carefully constructed façade. She can't be intimidated by him and she needs to have the will to persevere, even when she feels that the battle is lost. She needs to be strong enough to handle what lies beneath the surface, but she needs to be gentle too. Gentle to hold him while he falls, to guide him in the journey to rebuild himself... to be there for /me/ and love /me/.

Love. Now there is a word I don't use lightly. It's such a subjective term and I simply despise all the visual connections one gets just by the sound of it: birds singing, orange sunsets, heart shaped clouds, romantic songs and annoying monologues about feelings. Those superficial stereotypes are a nightmare, they are not love. Love just is.

Bloody hell! This is /his/ fault; me, using the L word, thinking about it. I should stab him again just for being able to influence my thoughts in such a way. On the other hand, the look he gave me today was more comical that the one he gave me when I stabbed him. I guess what I did today was an intellectual stab. It has been our style for the last couple of years, since we met again on Relena's twentieth birthday party. It was a silent agreement: no more physical battles, only intellectual ones; just as dangerous but a lot more rewarding.

I'm sure that some part of him had known that this was coming. Maybe it was just a question of timing or of the way I said it, but whatever it was, it made it a momentous occasion. Is not every day that one gets to see Quatre Winner in that position; his eyes wide in shock, and his mouth opening and closing as he tries to muster something coherent to say.

I had smiled at him. The smile I use to declare victory and that Relena says is wickedly delicious. It had taken Quatre a moment to speak and he only managed to get one sentence out.

"Excuse me?"

"Quatre, darling, are you telling me you are losing your famous wit? Really, what is so difficult to comprehend about me pushing Relena against the wall and kissing her until she leans on me, too amazed to do anything else? Close your mouth, darling. You forget your manners."

He had to take a big sip of his wine before he was able to control the blush on his face and look at me without turning pink. He placed his cup on the table and smiled at me. It wasn't a polite and empty smile, it was sincere, and for a moment, he reminded me of Relena.

"Well, Dorothy, dear, I would be lying if I said that this didn't come as a surprise." His smile changed and I could see that he was getting ready for another round. He was taking his time, bringing the cup back to his lips and looking at me with mischievous eyes. "I just wonder, is Heero aware of these recent development or do I have the pleasure of telling him myself?" Quatre had made a masterful recovery. He had me where he wanted, and he knew it, but of course, I wouldn't have expected anything less from him.

I was fully prepared to face the anger of Mr. Yuy. He never trusted me but I wasn't afraid of him. In a way, I was looking forward to the encounter. I could definitely use an adrenaline rush. However, Quatre's question was unexpected and the split second it took me to reply had been enough to give me away. "Relena insisted on telling Mr. Yuy herself." I laughed a little. "She was worried about how he might react."

"Oh, I see," said Quatre. "And it is correct to assume that you requested the pleasure of telling me the news personally?"

"Well of course, darling. What kind of a friend would I be otherwise?" The politely mocking tone was something that we both had perfected, and we enjoyed using against each other.

"You are too kind, Dorothy."

He likes to use that word: kind. I hate it and he knows it. It doesn't matter if his voice is filled with sarcasm, the word still makes me feel like I'm back that mobile suit, heading for MO III, going mad while trying to decide if I hated or loved him. [1] It's been four years since then and I still question myself, not knowing if I like him or despise him. Maybe it's both, a balance between the opposites. I think that is the reason we are friends. I fail to see how you can be friends with someone you don't hate.

"So," he continued, casually nibbling a bread stick. "When are you planning on coming out to the public?"

I must admit that I had forgotten about that little detail. Since I didn't answer at once, he took the opportunity to press the issue, while all the time giving me that annoying smile of his. "You do know that the press is going to be all over this little business. She /is/ the Vice Foreign Minister. It would be rather unfortunate if news got out before you have the chance to release a statement."

He wouldn't, but he had a way of insinuating things that made a chill come down my spine. "Like what happened to you when the press discovered your relationship with Mr. Barton?" He had let himself wide open for that and Quatre Winner never did that. I couldn't help but feeling that I was walking right into a trap.

Quatre smirked. "Dorothy, dear, do you really think that I would let the press publish something I didn't approve of?" There was that weird spark in his eyes. He was enjoying himself.

When I had first seen that picture on the cover of the 'Socialite' magazine, I had felt a fleeting moment of delight. I kept the magazine, but I did it purely for esthetic purposes. After all, it's not every day you see a picture of two gorgeous men kissing in the rain in front of the WEI building. It was too bad that the heading was so inappropriate: 'Quatre Winner's secrets revealed'. I could certainly think of a few secrets that hadn't reached the press. A much more fitting heading would have been: 'Lights and shadows: the art of blinding with sparkles.'

"I always suspected that your coming out was a bit abrupt, and Quatre Winner never does anything abruptly." I grabbed a cherry from the bowl the waiter had placed before me and slowly put it in my mouth, biting the stalk off. "... unless you have a good reason."

"The press was digging and they wouldn't to stop unless they found something, so I redirected their gaze to a more convenient place." He grabbed a cherry and mimicked my actions. "But of course, Dorothy, you already know all about deceit."

"You flatter me, Mr. Winner," I said, grinning. "But I'm not sure I'm deserving of such graces."

"You are, Milady," he replied in the same false polite tone. "After all, you and Relena managed to deceive me for a while, and I assure you, that's not an easy task to accomplish."

Quatre has always been a master of surrendering with grace. He has a way of declaring you victorious without giving you the satisfaction of glory. I would normally think that it takes the fun out of the whole battle, but Quatre always manages to make things entertaining.

We delight each other intellectually. Every little encounter we have is a battle, and a fierce one at that. He enjoys it as much as I do, and in this peaceful era, it's the only way we can satisfy our need to fight. Quatre might deny it or try to twist the words in his favor, but deep down he knows the truth: humans live to fight, and the dance of battle is the most mesmerizing one.

In a way, he and I see the world though different sides of the glass, but eventually, we end up seeing each other. What makes us different is also what makes us alike. We are drawn to each other just as much as we are repelled.

I do wonder if Mr. Yuy manages to fascinate Relena the way Quatre fascinates me. He must, or she wouldn't talk about him with such fondness. They probably play their own games and fight their own battles; enchanting each other in a way no one else could.

When she arrives, she will tell me how it went. She will describe every gesture and repeat every word spoken; and I won't understand.

Humans relate to each other that way: they possess others and are possessed by many. Possession is a rational action. Owning a part of someone is claiming what you see reflected of yourself in others. It has a motive and finality. It has a reason to exist. That's what makes what Quatre is to me and what Yuy is to her so easy to understand.

Yuy is hers as much Quatre is mine, and at the same time, they own a part of us

Relena, on the other hand is not a possession. We simple belong together because we want it that way: and there is nothing rational about it. I gave myself to her and Relena gave herself to me, but there will always be that part of us that we can't give because it's not in our possession.

And when she comes back, after having talked to him, we can announce to the world that we belong... and world won't understand.

- The end.


Notes:

[1] Refers to events written in "Inverse"