Midnight Waltz (1/?)

By: LadyDraco

Warnings: Umm...I suppose none except for the fact that you all should really watch out for Dorothy's eyebrows. They're dangerous!

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Gundam Wing and even more sadly probably never will. I simply borrow the characters for my own sick, twisted ways.

A/N: And we all love the Quatre/Dorothy mix, do we not? Well I felt I could make this work, so, here we go. And now ladies and gentlemen enjoy the show. This is a Smoke Break production.

Chapter 1: A Glass of Champaign

A blonde young man wondered the lavishly decorated halls that led to the Sank Kingdom's main orchard. As Quatre Raberba Winner entered the orchard it was as if he had stepped through a portal to a more elegant and gentler time. In the middle of the orchard was a large, makeshift dance floor. The flowers and plant life of the orchard gave the surroundings a simple beauty that Quatre appreciated; off to the side of the dance floor was an orchestra playing soothing music as the stars smiled overhead. Touches illuminated the garden and people but were used in vain because of the majestic moon that lit up the night sky. The orchard exhibited such beauty that Quatre had to catch his breath.

The heir of the Winner family gazed at the people around him: dancing, mingling, and eating. Quatre could feel their happiness radiating off them. The guests were nobles and leaders of their respective countries. All had come to further the peace that the Sank Kingdom stood for. Their daughters, students of Relena Peacecraft's Institution of pacifism. The reason of their meeting was to discover and, more or less, showcase how much their daughters had learned. Quatre wondered for a moment about Relena Peacecraft. He knew she would come to the ball to give a speech, but he doubted that she would stay the entire time. The young woman was weighted down with the responsibility of ruling a kingdom. Relena was a leader that would stop those who could not help but fight and bring peace to the world once more. Quatre just hoped that she would not cave under the pressure.

He did not bother to look around for Heero Yui, his fellow Gundam pilot. Quatre knew that his anti-social companion would be somewhere training hard for the never-ending battles the Gundam pilots faced. Just like Heero, Quatre was a warrior and had fought in more battles than he could count. The fair-haired pilot wanted more than anything not to have to fight, but he could not control it at the moment. The people around him knew nothing of the harshness of war, only happiness and comfort. Instead of feeling bitter, Quatre was pleased. He did not want them to know what it felt like to kill. They did not need to be Gundam pilots.

Quatre walked slowly, examining the exquisite flowers. As he passed by, people smiled warmly and shook his hand, intrigued by one of the only male students.

Quatre felt a wave of guilt wash over him. They thought that he was a student, but he was far from it. He was a killer and a murderer. He was unable to be a total pacifist, but the deception was necessary. Quatre pushed his guilt to the back of his mind and concentrated on a red-haired girl. She was pulling a young man after her, probably her brother, to a circle of girls. The youths discomfort was obvious to Quatre. The boy's sister giggled as she sent him off to dance with one of her friends. Quatre chuckled at the awkwardness of the lad, but at the same time Quatre wondered if he would have been just like the young man had he not become part of Operation Meteor. Quatre stopped himself and frowned. Was he jealous of the boy? He froze, thinking. The past could not be changed. It did no good to ponder the what if's. He could only follow his own path. He was not jealous. His smile returned. It did him good to be around happy people. They reminded him of what he was fighting for. They needed someone to protect them. Quatre took a glass of wine from a waiter, savoring its coolness in his hand.

Quatre gazed idly at the crowd. He leaned against a massive pillar and relaxed in the jovial environment. The kind-hearted pilot then caught sight of Dorothy Catilonia. He stood up straight, watching her with interest. Dorothy stood with a group of girls. She was with them but also seemed to be apart from them. She wore a long, white, sleeveless gown with elbow length white gloves. The torchlight played across her hair. In Quatre's eyes she looked strong but also delicate and fragile. He had seen Dorothy around at school and knew that she advocated wars, but he did no know why. Quatre suddenly felt a strong determination overtake him. He set down his wineglass. Without a second thought, Quatre Raberba Winner started in Dorothy Catilonia's direction to find an answer.

Dorothy Catilonia listened with half an ear to the girls around her. The girls were foolish, in Dorothy's opinion. They wanted total peace without war. All they could do was blindly follow Miss Relena. Dorothy was growing tired of their senseless prattle. All they talked about were boys. Didn't they know there were more important topics to discuss? A brown haired girls next to Dorothy, Katrina-a rather bossy girl- giggled, bringing Dorothy out of her reverie.

"Look. That's Quatre Raberba Winner. He is so cute," said Katrina blushing. "I dropped my books one day, and he picked them up for me. He even carried them while walking me to class."

A blond girl, who Dorothy remembered as Margaret, spoke quietly. "Yeah, he is cute, but I think the other boy is cutter."

Katrina took this as a personal offence. "How can you like Heero Yui? He's way too anti-social. Quatre's much better."

The other girl sniffled, brushing her hair out of her face. "Well, it does not matter anyway. He's coming this way so we'd better stop talking about him."

Another girl smiled slyly. "Maybe he's coming to ask one of us to dance." The girls, minus Dorothy, all started to giggle but managed to regain control when Quatre reached them.

Dorothy kept her face impassive. She could not help but feel disgusted by the way the girls acted. Quatre greeted the girls, but went directly to Dorothy, where he bowed with a smile on his face. The young pilot extended his hand to Dorothy.

"Good evening, Miss Catilonia. May I have the honor of this dance?" Eloquence oozed out of each word and movement.

Dorothy covered her surprise with a polite smile, which could have easily been a predator's. What is the Gundam pilot doing? She asked herself. It did not make sense to Dorothy.

She looked into his eyes, blue like her own, and placed her hand in his. "Why of course, Mister Winner. I would be delighted."

Curious/semi-jealous gazes followed Quatre and Dorothy as they walked to the dance floor and assumed a stiff dancing posture. They began to waltz in relative silence. Dorothy tried to fill the silence. "I must admit, Mister Winner. I am a bit curious as to why you asked me to dance. Did you wish to talk?" Dorothy slightly sneered. Her words seemed to hold respect and contempt simultaneously.

Quatre shook his head. "I do want to talk to you, but later. We should enjoy the dance right now."

Dorothy looked as if she would argue, but she saw that Quatre had closed his eyes, loosing himself in the dance. Dorothy smiled sardonically. She could play along with his game. She would soon have the information she wanted.

Dorothy slowly began to relax as the music washed over her. The melody was simple but moving. Before Dorothy knew it, she too was lost in the gentle music. Everything forgotten as they danced.

Unnoticed to the partakers of the dance, the flowing melody changed to an intense, frantic song. The tempo was beating fast, as did Quatre and Dorothy's hearts. They began to dance intricate steps that neither had ever learned as they followed the rapid beat. The middle of the ballroom soon gave way to them. The other couples stopped dancing in awe of the swiftness, and gracefulness of Quatre and Dorothy's movements. They glided away from the middle of the floor to the edge where the garden began. Applause followed them, but neither of the two noticed.

The music began to slow. Quatre and Dorothy swayed as the old tempo reestablished itself. Dorothy felt warm and comfortable in Quatre's gentle embrace. The song began to dwindle into nothing. As it faded, she became once again aware of her surroundings. Dorothy's eyes jerked open as she realized that her head was resting on Quatre's shoulder. She recoiled from him breaking the trance that the gentle waltz had placed on them both. Dorothy cursed herself. How could she have let down her defenses? She had worked so hard to build those walls around herself, but they had crumbled.

She looked into his ocean blue eyes. She expected to see triumph over winning that small battle, but there was only concern in them. Concern? Dorothy's mind was reeling. Concern for her? Why would he care? Dorothy turned away from him trying to regain her self-control. She maneuvered her features into an enthusiastic smile. She clasped her hands together and turned back to him in a rush.

"Mister Winner. You said you wanted to speak to me. It seems the music has stopped. Shall we start our conversation now?" Dorothy said in a cheery voice. Before he could speak, she continued. Her voice still carried the false excitement that she used to patronize Relena. "I think we can dispense with the formalities and get to the main point of this meeting." She paused, letting a laugh fill the space. "You and I are similar, are we not Quatre? We are both warriors, but you refuse to accept the glory and beauty of battles. Do you understand how really foolish that is? Are those not the reasons wars are fought?"

Quatre stared past her. "I'd rather think that wars are fought to protect things like what we just felt in that dance." He said quietly.

Dorothy opened her mouth, but no words came. She let her arms fall to her sides. There was an uncomfortable silence. She wanted to deny everything he had said, but something stopped her. Had she felt something during that dance? Her hands formed fists. Why did this boy affect her so?

Quatre focused his gaze back on Dorothy. "I fail to understand why you are so attached to wars. Peace can be so beautiful." His tone was sincere.

"But war can be just as marvelous. The feeling felt by the soldiers is glorious." Said Dorothy enthusiastically.

"No they are not, Dorothy. I know that from experience." Quatre said with a deep pain in his eyes. "I've done horrible things. Wars are painful. If everyone stops fighting, we can live in peace. Miss Relena will lead us."

Dorothy snorted. "Yes, Quatre, we will have peace, but you can not deny the beauty of war. To do so would be to shame the memories of the countless soldiers who have died in battle."

"That's not true, but let's forget about that for right now." He paused. Dorothy could tell he was at the point of the discussion that he was most anxious about. "Dorothy, while we danced, I sensed that something has hurt you in your past. You have a deep wound. I want to help you."

Dorothy's eyes flared. "Do no assume that you understand me." Dorothy spat angrily. How dare he imply such a thing?! "You know nothing about me!" She turned to leave.

Quatre grabbed her hand causing her to stop. "But I would if you told me. Let me help you." He said soothingly.

Dorothy spun back to him. Her hand still in Quatre's gentle but firm grasp. She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. She could feel his breath on her face. She wondered if she was as imposing to him as he was to her. They stared at each other in silence. Dorothy broke away from his steady gaze, noticing that it was becoming quite late. Some of the guests were already departing. The music still played while a cool evening breeze ruffled her hair. She let her gaze drift back to Quatre, who was still staring at her. The moonlight illuminated Quatre's pale features. The young noble looked like a blond-haired angel, Dorothy realized with a start. It was not only his physical being that was angelic, there was a warmth that surrounded him, infinite tenderness and kindness. These were not the trademarks of a warrior. Dorothy gave Quatre a hate-filled glare.

"I believe that you are not a strong fighter, Quatre." Dorothy drawled quietly and dangerously. "It was simply enchanting to speak with you. Now I must leave you, but we will meet again, Quatre Raberba Winner." She wrenched her hand from his grip. Quatre let her go. Dorothy left the orchard and climbed unsteadily up a grassy hill in the direction of the student dormitories.

What is it about that boy? He is the weakest of the Gundam pilots. She thought. But why had he affected her in a way only few had before? When Dorothy usually engaged the battlefield of conversation, she was in complete control, only letting certain emotions slip through her self-imposed mask. Her voice was always mocking, filled with false cheerfulness. She would find her opponent's weak point and use it toward her advantage.

Battling this boy had been different, though. She had fled. Was it because of his innocence or his kindness? Kindness. Dorothy snorted. Kindness was overrated. As she thought about Quatre, she could remember faint glimmerings of the kindness that she had felt in the depths of her childhood. Perhaps that was why the battle had been different. He reminded her too much of her past self. Quatre's idealism was almost sickening to her. Peace would not come without a price. She had once thought like Quatre, but she had long since rid herself of that useless feeling, kindness.

As she reached the top of the hill she felt something compel her to look back. Dorothy turned around and stood amid the dark ocean of grass, her hair flowing behind her. To her surprise, the blonde angel was still standing in the exact same place she had left him, watching her with such sincere concern that Dorothy flinched. His eyes seemed to be willing her to rejoin him. Before Dorothy could find fault with this unspoken message, a thought crossed her mind. She couldrejoin him. It was an almost dizzying prospect. Possibilities floated through her head. He would hold her with those gentle arms of his. She would be able to feel the happiness that she had only felt early in her childhood. She would confide in him, all the hardships and worries she had faced after her father's death, and he would murmur comforting things in her ear as he stroked her hair. Dorothy would be able to see the understanding in his warm, blue eyes. They would...

Dorothy stiffened. They would...what? Live happily ever after? She grimaced bitterly at her own foolishness. Those were the fantasies of a normal girl. Dorothy Catilonia was no normal girl. She was a warrior. She would not let that idealistic fool bother her any longer. She was not weak like him. She would be strong like her father and enjoy the beauty of battles until peace could be won. Dorothy spun on her heel. She strode confidently toward the dormitories. Her precious self-assurance momentarily restored. Never again, she promised herself. I won't let my walls crumble ever again. "You may have won this battle, Mister Winner," She said quietly to herself. "But we'll see who wins the war." There was a dangerous undertone to her voice, as she allowed a smirk to grace her features. Dorothy, then, disappeared into the student dormitories.