A/N- The story is actually finished, I just have to put the finishing touches on the last chapter. And yes, I've already started a sequel. How sad am I?
Disclaimer- Not mine, don't sue, got nothing.
Small Packages
Chapter 10
Une tensed as she stood in the formal sitting room just off the main hall of the Barton-Winner residence. The room was richly furnished in antique mahogany furnishings, peach silks and brocades making it comfortable despite the obvious lack of use it received. She glanced to the lock box on the table and slipped her hand into the pocket of the corduroy skirt she wore on her rare day off from the office. She felt just slightly out of place in the room dressed down as she was. Sternly she reminded herself why she was here.
Her fingers traced the key to the box as she waited nervously for Trowa Barton to make his appearance. The woman who'd let her in had informed her that he was indisposed but would be in shortly. That had been nearly half an hour ago. She'd been served coffee from antique silver service older than her family name. She'd finished 3 cups and then resigned herself to pacing the spacious room as she waited for Barton to appear. Her pumps clicked on the marble floor with each step, giving voice to her agitated state.
The pocket door slid open and she spun to face the newcomer. Barton stepped inside, obviously fresh from the shower. She felt her breath catch as she observed the young man anew. She could tell why Quatre Winner had fallen in love with him in that instant. He was dressed in a pair of loose fitting khakis and a well-loved t-shirt bearing the Preventers logo. His hair was still damp and brushed from his face revealing the faint features that belied his European ancestry. Those emerald eyes flickered warily. "Lady Une."
"Mr. Barton." She inclined her head slightly in a nod of acknowledgement. She gestured to his injured arm and asked softly. "How are you doing?"
He shrugged lightly. "I've had worse."
"Yes, I suppose you have." She trailed off into awkward silence.
He stared at her in that unnerving way of his, waiting patiently until she spoke again. "I suppose I'll just get right to it then."
"You probably should." He moved to seat himself in one of the Louis chairs.
She flexed her fingers around the key in her pocket before withdrawing it and extending it to him. He eyed it doubtfully, making no moved to take it. "What's this?"
Anne nodded to the box. "It's something that rightfully belongs to you." She paused for a moment. "And to your daughter."
Trowa blinked in obvious surprise before indifference settled over his features once more. "How do you know about that?"
Anne lowered her eyes. "Mind if I sit down?"
He tilted his head in the direction of the chair across from him. She angled it towards him before taking a seat. "This is a difficult moment for me Mr. Barton. So if you'll please just bear with me."
"Of course." His tone did not waver.
"Needless to say I'm not here in my official capacity. So please try to understand why I did what I'm about to tell you." She deposited the key on top of the strongbox and threaded her hands together to keep herself from fidgeting. "Trowa, I owe you an apology. More than one actually. Concerning the forced leave of absence, I overstepped myself and attempted to invade your personal life. If I had known then what I know now…"
Anne trailed into silence for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Anyway, I tried to force you to face something I thought was a problem. In fact I saw myself in you at that moment and it scared me."
Trowa frowned. "I don't understand."
"When Mr. Treize died, I found myself without a cause for the first time in my life. And I didn't want anyone to know the depth of our relationship. Please don't misunderstand. It wasn't in anyway sexual." She snorted in self-deprecation. "I thought that if I was perfect enough as a glorified sidekick, perhaps he would return my feelings. But that never happened. However, he did understand me in a way no one else ever has, before of since. Starting the Preventers gave me an outlet that I hadn't had before. I had something to fight for again. Only now, it wasn't Mr. Treize's ideals I was pursuing, but that of the people. His ideals were always peaceful, he understood however, that peace is not the same a freedom. You pilots, you weren't fighting for peace. You were fighting for freedom."
She paused for a moment. "Working for freedom through peace has become my goal. One of my own, not his. Trowa, I've seen you blossom over the last six years, from a scared little boy who was capable of murder to a brilliant young man full of promise who is capable of not only living his own life knowing what he wants, but who has the courage to pursue that. When I saw you becoming what you once were, it scared me. I thought that by forcing you to face it, maybe I could get back the Trowa Barton who I admire and respect so much more than you'll ever know. But I see now, that in doing so, I myself reverted to the way I was once. Ruling by force and lacking in any ounce of compassion. I'm sorry."
She raised her eyes from where they were focused on her perfectly manicured thumbs that had somehow begun doing a strange little dance to rest on Trowa once again. She swallowed hard. "Do you understand now?"
"I… think so." He hesitated.
"Good. As for my second transgression, that's the real reason I'm here. The first realization was merely a by-product of the second."
"You sound like Wufei." He pronounced calmly.
Anne laughed softly. "I suppose I could give him lessons. Anyway. The key goes to this box." She freed a hand of tapped the metal surface. "A few days after our… exchange of words I went to the suspects home. I used the key we had in the evidence locker to let myself in. I'm not proud of it, but I wanted answers and I was willing to go to any length to get them. I found this box and the key and opened it. Which I also shouldn't have done. I wanted to bring it by and apologize in to you in person. The box contains some very personal effects of the… Miss Hanahan's."
"Personal effects… you went through it?" His brows knit together. "Why would you violate her privacy like that?"
"Trowa, please… just bear with me. That's why I explained what I just finished with. I got the answers I wanted, yes… but I do realize it was a horrible invasion of her privacy and yours. I was looking for a connection between her and yourself. When I found it, I wanted to know everything. I'm sorry. If you're angry, I understand and you have every right to be. I was trying to help, misguided though my attempt."
Trowa's face relaxed. Anne's stomach unclenched a little as he spoke. "I understand."
"Thank you for not being angry." Relief flooded through her.
Emerald orbs flashed at her, raw emotion obvious in them. "I didn't say I wasn't angry. I said I understood. There's a distinct difference between the two, Lady Une. Don't think that just because you've apologized means you're forgiven." With catlike grace he rose from his seat, his back ramrod straight for a moment before he sighed, eyes focusing on the small display of frame photos on the table.
She followed his gaze as it searched out a picture of him and Quatre dressed to the nines on the day of their wedding. When he spoke again his voice was soft, carrying in it a deep-seated ache. "I owe you an apology to. Quatre pointed out the foolishness of my actions the day I quit. I think that perhaps we should both forgive and forget." He moved his eyes to her once more. "I'm sorry."
The words came without ceremony, his usual understated manner. Une leaned back into the chair and exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you, Trowa."
He gave a slight nod. She spoke again. "You know you can come back any time. I never processed your resignation."
Trowa appeared startled for a brief moment. "But I don't want to come back." He smiled vaguely. "It's nothing personal, Une. I just have to take care of some things. Personal things."
"I see. A leave of absence then, completely voluntary of course. I can put it through as paternity leave. Six months with full-pay."
He shook his head. "No, you don't understand. I'm still resigning."
She frowned. "But… you need a job."
Trowa snorted, then chuckled in amusement. "You forget who I'm married to, Lady Une." He sobered and then shook his head once more. "I'm going to pursue a different career path."
"Oh." Une blushed slightly. "What, if I may ask."
Trowa flushed brilliantly in tandem. "JZ Winner works as an editor for a small publishing house. She saw some of my work and expressed an interest in it, should I ever want to pursue it beyond dabbling as a hobby."
"Writing?" Now there was an idea that had never occurred to her. "I wasn't aware Quatre had a sister named JZ. I thought I'd met them all."
Trowa's smile grew downright devilish. "Yes, I'd imagine you wouldn't know her by that name. She prefers it to her full name."
"I'm almost afraid to ask."
"JZ is short for Jezebel." He chuckled again. "I thought I might give it a try. The writing thing."
Une looked at him. It was like seeing him in a whole different light. She nodded minutely. "Well I hope it goes well. When you get published, I'm going to want to have my own signed copy."
"Let me finish something first." Trowa's demeanor was genuinely relaxed for the first time since he'd entered the room. "Thank you, for coming by. I appreciate the gesture and the thought. If you'll excuse me, I'm taking Megan for lunch. Some pizza place with games she's been seeing commercials for on TV. I've promised her Canadian Bacon." He reached for the box and key. "I think she deserves a little pork now and then, even if Quatre won't approve."
Une rose from her seat and extended her hand to him. "I'll be seeing you, Trowa. Maybe someday I can meet your daughter."
He smiled again, significant, yet small. "Maybe. If she stays, maybe." With those confusing words, he turned and strode out the door, leaving her to see herself out.
Amala frowned as Megan listened at the door of the sitting room. She had voiced her disagreement with the idea of listening in to the grownups. Her stomach felt funny at the idea that her father would be mad at her for doing something she knew was wrong. Amala crept closer and whispered in Megan's ear. "What are they saying?"
Megan stamped her foot. "I can't hear. Be quiet."
"Sorry." Amala fell silent.
Megan leaned closer to the door and then frowned. "Papa's mad at the lady."
"Why?"
"Shh! I don't know." Megan frowned at her friend again. Amala's bottom lip began to quiver. "They're coming!" Megan spun and grabbed Amala by the sleeve of her dress and quickly pulled her across the foyer to hide under the staircase. Amala peered out from the darkened area as Mr. Barton strode by, holding something carefully in his arms.
Once he'd passed them by without seeing, Amala lowered herself to the ground and sighed. "I'm glad he didn't see."
Megan's eyes were round. Amala frowned. "What's wrong?"
"He said…" She hiccupped lightly, her shoulders beginning to shake. "He said I might not stay."
Amala huffed. "You can't leave. He's your Papa. He can't send you away."
"Mama sent me away." Megan pointed out as she began to cry. "Grownups don't like me, they always send me away."
The tiny Arabic girl's lip began to quiver. "I don't want you to go. You're my best friend."
Amala scrubbed at her eyes and clutched Murray the turtle closer, then sniffled, her decision made. "I'll make my daddy make your papa let you stay."
"Your daddy can do that?"
"Yes. My daddy can do anything. He's a Maganana." She nodded, happy once more. "And your papa and m daddy are friends and friends can make each other change their minds."
"Really?" Megan looked at Amala doubtfully.
Amala smiled reassuringly. "Yes. My daddy calls it the power of perversion."
"Perversion" She paused for a moment. "Then make your daddy make my papa let me stay, please."
"Mr. Wufei!" The tiny girl was a blur as she flew down the staircase. Wufei barely had the time to brace himself before Megan took a flying leap at him. He caught her smoothly, unable to resist the smile that came to his face. He'd never in his life gotten such an enthusiastic greeting. Megan's arms laced around his neck, hugging him tightly. Gingerly he returned the gesture, afraid of hurting the fragile little body.
She pulled back and stared at him for a moment, smiling happily. "You're going to take me to the park while Papa and Babu are busy!"
"I know." He replied in all seriousness.
"Can we go somewhere else instead?" She grinned, another of those smiles that Quatre had claimed would instantly wrap him around her finger.
Wufei was stunned to find that he did indeed seem to have a soft spot for that smile. He nodded. "Where would you like to go?"
"The wedding store." Megan responded promptly.
Wufei chuckled. "Why do we need to go to the wedding store? Do you need to buy a husband?"
"Right on time, Wufei." Quatre's voice broke into the conversation. Wufei lifted his eyes from the child to his friend.
Quatre continued as he extended a sheet of paper to Wufei. "Thank you for coming."
"You're welcome." He responded as he shifted Megan to accept the paper. "What's this?"
"Information." Quatre smiled. "All of our phone numbers."
"I already have those memorized." Wufei frowned slightly.
"And," The blond man continued oblivious to the interruption. "The number to the pediatrician and the address of the nearest hospital. I've mapped out the route you'll be taking to the park and the ice cream shop. Please don't let her have any with sugar in it. We'd much rather her have the sugar-free variety. Trowa and I should be back around 6 at the latest. Let's see is there anything I've forgotten…" He tapped his finger on his chin thoughtfully.
Wufei folded the paper as best he could and stuffed it into his pocket. "Quatre, I believe I know everything I need to. She's potty trained and can feed herself. Besides, I've just been informed that we aren't going to the park. We're going to the wedding store."
"Yes!" Megan agreed seriously. "I want to buy Mr. Wufei a ring."
Obsidian eyes flickered back to the small girl who sat primly in the crook of his elbow. "Why do I need a ring?"
"One like Papa and Babu wear…"
He glanced to Quatre's hands. The Arabian man was regarding them with no small level of amusement. As usual Quatre's fingers were bare of any adornment aside from his wedding band. "A wedding band?" Wufei's confusion grew by degrees. "But Megan, I'm not married."
"Not yet, Mr. Wufei. But you will be someday and it's best to be prepared." She shook her index finger at him.
Wufei glanced to Quatre once again. The other man was barely containing his laughter. "Winner, I don't see what's so funny."
Quatre gestured to Megan. "I think you should let her explain it."
The Chinese man shifted his eyes back to Megan who was smiling happily. "Megan, I'm not going to get married for a very long time."
"I know, not until I'm bigger. Papa said I have to be a grown-up first. But you might meet someone else cause that's a long time from now. So I want you to wear a ring and pretend to be married so no one else will try to take you."
"Take me?" He repeated dumbly, the gist of her jabber setting in. "You want me to marry you when you grow up?"
"Yes sir." She smiled triumphantly. "Papa and Babu said you would."
He cut his eyes to Quatre once more, whose mouth was hidden behind his hand and shoulders shaking in silent mirth. He bit back a groan. "Megan, I'll make a deal with you. If you'll wait another… 13 years and ask me again, then we'll talk about it."
Quatre's eyes widened in shock as Wufei smirked at him. His eyes immediately narrowed. Wufei's smirk turned decidedly nasty. "In fact, Megan… I'll make you a promise." Quatre's left eyes began to twitch.
Megan listened attentively. "What promise?"
"I promise that when you turn eighteen, if you still want to marry me, we'll go on a date."
"A real date?" Megan poked his cheek carefully, staring at his eyes intently.
"Yes. A real date. With a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant and then dancing afterwards. And…"
He paused, glancing to his friend once more. Quatre was now bordering on livid, Wufei chuckled in smug satisfaction. "I'll even give you a kiss."
"A real kiss? Like Papa and Babu?" She perked up considerably.
"Okay! That's enough of that. Megan… you behave and don't pester Wufei about that." Quatre gave Wufei the evil eye. "you won't remember it when you're 18 anyway, so at least I can rest easy about that."
"I'll 'member, Babu." Megan leaned over and graced Quatre with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"Okay then…" Quatre hugged her, his voice shifting to one of blatant indulgence. "Wufei, please remember… no sugared stuff. We don't need her up all night again. And absolutely NO mountain dew."
"Yes, Quatre." Wufei sighed dubiously. How hard could keeping up with one child be?