"Manifestations"
By Isis cw
Chapter 2
"Good afternoon, Master Winner."
"Good morning, Dorothy," he smiled.
"Morning?" she paused, enjoying the afternoon sun pouring over the deck she lounged on. "Oh, I did it again. What time is it there?"
Quatre faced off of the vid-screen and then chuckled, "Five thirty."
Dorothy giggled merrily to herself, noting the slightly tousled hair on the young man. "Well, at least I know you're a morning person."
He quickly brushed it off, "It's all right. I was up anyway."
"Ah, such dedication. It's heartwarming."
With a tight smile he just ran his fingers through his hair.
"Well, I best let you get back to whatever you were up to. I just wanted to check on the progress with the repair crews," she stated, enjoying the slightly nervous expression pasted on his face.
"They finished late yesterday and fled like they were running for their lives. What exactly did you tell them?"
Dorothy giggled and took a sip of her tea before looking back at him. "I told you Quatre, I would take care of any problems that arise, just so long as you don't ask for my tactics."
"Just please tell me you aren't holding their families hostage or something." He looked at her worriedly, as if she was capable of such things…. Well, "capable" was very encompassing word.
"Nothing of the sort," she assured, favoring him with a perfectly evil smile. "I merely reminded them of their contract to us."
He sighed and scratched his head thoughtfully. "I'm sure you did."
Sipping at her tea again she happily sighed. "Well, if there is nothing else that requires... a woman's touch?" she teased.
He chuckled, shaking his head, but stopped and looked up at her. "There is something actually. I'm glad you called."
"Even at five thirty in the morning?"
"Well, you've always kept me on my toes," he mumbled. Shaking it off he rummaged through something off screen on his desk. "We have been invited to a benefactor's dinner for those who have received building grants. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me?"
"Now, how silent would that be of me?" she asked, amused to no end with the light blush on his checks.
"I thought it might be a good time for you to unofficially announce your involvement," he reasoned to the invitation in his hands.
Dorothy mulled it over. This party would no doubt pull together the main brain cells behind almost any of the post-war building projects, from the other colonies to the war museums. Quatre was right; it may be time to slowly work her way into polite society as someone on the respectable side of things….
"And, uh well, I'm just not very good at these things," he stuttered. "I was kind of hoping you could walk me through some of the pleasantries," he chuckled nervously to her.
She leaned her elbow on her deck chair and propped up her chin, more than enjoying the sight. "Why, Quatre, I'm not sure that I can say no to an invitation like that. But really, you should be very well versed in these things by now."
He slowly shook his head. "The party is in your territory. Venice to be exact."
She blinked back her surprise before she smiled. "I see. Well, that's just too close for me to say no."
"I'd appreciate it."
She smirked at him, believing there to be more to this simple invitation then he let on. But dearest Quatre always did have her best interests at heart. "Very well, I would be honored to accompany you, Master Winner."
He smiled and nodded to her.
"But on one condition."
He blinked, "What would that be?"
She leaned back in the chair, taking in the scene of the lake directly in front of her balcony-deck. "You allow me to host you, of course."
Quatre's surprise turned to a smile before he cautiously answered, "That would be nice."
She clapped her hands together and smiled. "Fabulous. When shall I expect you?"
"Master Quatre, is this absolutely necessary?"
"Will you all please stop worrying? I'm only staying a few days with a friend," he smiled through his own nervousness.
"A friend that not only shot at you, but ran a fencing foil through you for good measure."
He sighed, glancing over the group of Maguanacs. "I don't think I saw you all at your best when I first met you either."
The reminder slowly silenced them as they thought back to the kidnapping attempt.
"Now then, she said she would meet me at the landing field," he finished, ending the conversation for the third time since they had boarded the space plane.
The others still grumbled over his choice of hosts for the weekend outing. He had no reason to mistrust Dorothy anymore, and neither did they, but old wounds leave scars. Apparently the group around him remembered his a bit more painfully then he did himself.
Oh well, he would come out of this unscathed and they would stop worrying. …He hoped.
The landing field that Dorothy's instructions directed them to didn't even show up on the navigation points until they were nearly overhead. The landing beacon was completely automated and there was nothing but a lone receiving building off to one side of the single runway, and it looked abandoned.
Quatre stepped off the shuttle wondering if he was actually in the right spot. But beside the receiving building sat a single car in the parking lot, which was being vacated by Lady Catalonia herself.
Clad in a short yellow sundress and a white cardigan she slowly sauntered down the slope of grass towards the runway.
"Well, they aren't big on formality," he mumbled as Rashid came up beside him, raising a hand to shield his eyes in the bright sunlight.
"I can't imagine her living all the way out in a place like this," he returned.
Quatre shrugged as he waved a hello towards her as she stepped onto the pavement, her sandals clacking softly. She waved back, a smile in place as she used one hand to keep her hair from blowing into her face in the breeze.
He walked out to meet her halfway, taking a closer look around at the scenery. It was a beautiful place. They lay in a valley between a range of gently rolling hills that sloped up in the distance to form blue peaks of low mountains. The breeze was cool against the warmth of the sun that shown down, and stirred the tall grasses around the building area.
Coming up close, he finally made eye contact with her as she stopped her pace. "It's a bit humble, but it's far closer than any other landing point."
He nodded with a chuckle. "I understand." Rounding, the two walked the rest of the way back to the shuttle as the group hung out at the open hatch door, his luggage waiting.
The group gave their well wishes for a nice time as he picked up his things, Dorothy even politely insisting to carry a bag. "Don't worry, gentlemen, I'll be sure to take good care of him." With a flip of her hair she started off, back towards the car. Quatre sighed silently and gave the others a smile and a wave before catching up with her.
"So, madam hostess, quite a place you have here," he made small talk back up the slope to her car. Popping the trunk of the gold coupe, he smiled thinking that this was exactly what he would have expected from her.
"We're only about half an hour out, we should be at the house for tea," she teased, sliding herself into the driver's seat.
"This is a convenient landing site for you then, isn't it?" he asked as she backed the car out of the parking area.
"That was the reason for building it," she replied, coasting them down the hillside road.
He turned and blinked at her, taken aback by the comment.
She glanced over, seeing the expression. "My little home was once my grandfather's vacation house. We visited occasionally, but never got much use out of the dear little place. I decided I may as well change that," she giggled to herself, adding a pair of sunglasses.
He smiled at her as the wind picked up through the sunroof as she increased speed on the narrow, winding road. He watched the scenery pass, the green of the hillsides in stark contrast to the visions he normally encountered on his trips to Earth.
They never did pass another car and he was beginning to wonder if there were any forms of other life out here when a small town came into view. "Lago Bonito," she stated as they slowed to take a corner just short of the city limit. "Friendly, but a bit… dull," she drawled.
"'Lago,' that's why I can smell water?" he asked, noting the humidity in the air.
She laughed, speeding around the zigzag curves of the road. "You're about to find out."
Rounding yet another hill Quatre was assaulted by the sparkle of the sun over waves of water. The road dropped sharply down to the water's edge as it stretched in a wide river for miles off in the West. The sight was breathtaking as he stared out at the glistening waves being kicked up by the wind diving down between the hilled banks.
Dorothy giggled quietly to herself as she hummed the rest of the way, the wind twirling the loose strands of her hair around her. He smiled over to her and then turned back to the view.
The scenery changed again as they passed around the hill that had given them a vantage point to the river. Crawling over the rocky, green terrain, she slowed the car as they approached the top of the hill, turning onto a small driveway that took them back down the hillside in the opposite direction. Passing around the front rows of trees a house came into view in front of them, flanked on either side by the trees and the rocks of the surrounding hillside.
"Here we are," she said, placing the car into park in front of the two-story cottage.
"Don't believe in neighbors, do you?" he asked getting out.
She chuckled as she helped him get his things. The house stood solid, towering over the smaller trees planted around the sides of it. The facade was rock around the door, up to the second floor balcony. Above that, the walls were entirely glass, the rooms having an un-obscured view of the larger trees and hillside that they had driven down.
"There is some expression of glass houses that comes to mind about now," he mumbled.
She smiled and led the way down the rock path to the front door, pushing it open without unlocking it, and standing aside to let him in.
Quatre walked into a living room twice as long as he would have expected from the outside. The front windows faced out to the same forest view. But what he had expected to be the second story was actually a vaulted ceiling over this section of the house. The two-story wall of glass was cut in two by the balcony running along the outside, but otherwise offered an amazing amount of light to penetrate.
The floors were wooden, as was the grand banister railing that ran up the wall next to the doorway towards the upstairs. The room was furnished in greens and browns, two sitting areas were laid out in the room, one next to the windows, the other off to one side next to the great, open fireplace designed in the same rock as the outside.
"Wow."
Beside him Dorothy chuckled. "I'll give you the quick tour before I let you settle." Setting his bag down at the foot of the stairs, he did likewise. "The main room," she waved a vague hand around at the wood paneled masterpiece.
He walked in, taking in the view from the windows as he approached the sofa. "I think I can see why you don't care for colony life," he ventured.
He heard her laugh from behind him and turned to find her next to the back wall. "That's just the entryway," she smiled. Reaching up she pulled away a panel of the wall, and he watched as it accordion folded in two directions. The divider was placed where the ceiling lowered to normal height, easily enclosing the living room. She pushed one side all the way back to the stairway wall, displaying a dinning room table and buffet.
But beyond the furnishings was another wall of glass. Quatre gaped as his eyes met the blue crystal sparkles of a small lake laid out before him.
Dorothy stepped to the other side and withdrew the remaining portion of the divider screen, revealing a nice kitchen with an island placed between it and the dinning table.
However, he wasn't all that interested in the layout of the house anymore. As he walked forward he came face to face with a set of sliding doors that led out onto a huge balcony. It overlooked this lake placed in the middle of a valley between two green ridges of hills. Dipping slowly in the afternoon sky, the sun shown in all majesty above the water's waves.
Dorothy's shrill laughter finally made him blink as she stepped up beside him, placing her hand and chin on his shoulder. "I think that expression is the whole reason I stay out here."
He didn't need to see the smirk on her face to know it was there. "This is amazing," he complimented.
"It is, isn't it?" she sighed. Stepping around him she opened one of the doors along the wall and walked out onto the deck, motioning him out.
Quatre complied, walking out into the breezy afternoon. Crossing the wood planks he stepped up to the railing beside her, taking in the unpopulated spectacle in front of him.
"I un-mothballed the house a few months ago, finding better uses for some of the other properties that got handed down. This place just felt better," she sighed, leaning against the railing, the wind blowing her hair enough to tickle against his side.
He turned to her and simply watched her look out at the valley below. She seemed at peace here, and that, he figured, was the reason she stayed. He smiled at the thought, happy that she had found such a place to rest. Glancing down over the railing he let the cool breeze whiz by them….
Until he figured out that he was still staring into water.
He blinked and then turned back to the decking under his feet, looking through the spaces in the boards to find water all the way back to the house foundation, that seemed to be sitting on a rock outcropping… probably a hundred feet up.
Dorothy glanced over her shoulder at him, "Quatre?"
"I guess I'm not used to this much water," he chuckled.
She giggled at his expression before taking his arm and leading him back inside. "Well then, I'll have to give you the more land-locked guestroom," she teased.
The guestroom she led him to was set on the corner of the house facing back towards the driveway, giving him a very nice view of trees instead of the blue of the water beyond. Which was just fine; trees weren't all that prevalent in the desert either, but they were a bit more soothing to him than dangling over the edge of full sized lake. Odd what people get used to.
Dorothy had excused herself to let him settle in, saying she would be in the kitchen when he was finished. Unpacking in the glass-walled room, he idly wondered about the choice of location for her. She must feel at peace here. Perhaps that had a good deal to do with it being so far out of the way.
It didn't matter, this was how she chose to live and he couldn't blame her. He sat down on the bed, appreciating the near ninety-degree line of vision out to the wilderness, the windows reflective-tinted to preserve the privacy of the room. A sliding door stood on the side wall, allowing entrance to the walkway balcony that stretched all the way around the house.
It was a fantastic design, he would easily admit that.
Exiting his room he wondered down the hallway. It looked like three other rooms comprised the upstairs. One was directly over the kitchen/dining area and the other two were on his side of the hall. The open banister looked down into the living room all the way to the end of the stair case. The hallway ended with a tiny, open sitting area on the far wall, making use of the space where the stairs and hallway finished in the floor-plan.
He slowly descended the stairs to the main room again, smiling at the family crest that hung on display in the center of the steps. He found Dorothy standing in the dining room/kitchen, a cup in hand as she gazed out through the sliding doors.
Quietly walking up behind her he noted that the sky had turned cloudy and now hid the late afternoon sun.
"I hope you don't mind thunderstorms as much as you do living over a lake," she teased, sipping at her cup.
"I bet you have a good view of them up here," he side-stepped instead.
"I bet we have a good view of one tonight."
"My dear maid only works a couple days a week, so I'm afraid you're going to have to abide my cooking."
Quatre chuckled as he watched her trace around the kitchen. He sat at the table, watching the heavy bank of clouds roll in over the hills, lightning starting to flicker off in the distance. He had helped her carry in the small selection of deck furniture to her side office so that it would be out of the elements before she set to work on dinner.
"You're pretty much alone up here, then?" he asked, curious at her total lack of interactions.
"Oh, I take a jaunt into town now and again. They have a darling little café, and whatnot. But for the most part, the time that I spend here is very… serene," she mused.
"I wouldn't have expected this from you," he slowly admitted.
"Really? Well, I suppose it has been a new development," she mumbled, bringing over a pot and setting it down. "My specialty this evening is pasta," she bowed. "Mainly due to my single ability of boiling water."
He laughed at her, "Well, you're doing better than I would."
The two conversed quietly over dinner, the conversations interrupted by the crash of thunder as the storm began quickly running over the valley. The rain started as a downpour and then got heavier.
"Do you get these a lot?" he asked, almost fascinated by their vantage point. The lights in the kitchen flickered once and Quatre hoped he was imagining things.
"Apparently quite often during the spring." She rose and walked over to the buffet behind them, pulling out a silver candelabrum from the cupboard, and then began rummaging through the drawers.
"No need to dig out the good sliver for me," he teased.
She chuckled and then finally placed it on the edge of the table, striking a match to light the candle. "This house is on its own power grid out here, and, well," she blew the match out, "it's not very reliable."
He blinked, "Reliable?"
She nodded, taking her seat. "The storms have a tendency to blow the circuit. The town's crew does a nice job of getting it running… it just usually takes them until the next morning," she smiled.
Quatre was a bit startled. On a colony, loss of power meant loss of heat, movement—which equaled gravity, and airflow. In short, no power, no life-support. "This doesn't bother you?"
She shrugged, "I've gotten used to the pleasantries of the backwoods." Rising again she took their plates, "Coffee?"
"That'd be fine," he agreed. She sauntered into the kitchen and placed their dishes in the sink. While she rummaged in the cupboards he stood and went to the window again, watching the rain wash over the glass. He undid the top button on his shirt, the humidity really getting to him he decided.
The lightning flickers were high for the most part, reminding him of the heat lightning near the Maguanac's base, except of course this wasn't miles off in the distance.
A fact that made itself clear as the outside lit up with a deafening clap of thunder. The nearness of the bolt was the last straw for the ill-tempered lights as they cut out, casting the house into near darkness. The candle on the table did its job, producing only enough light to see around the room with.
"Well, I guess I'll have to offer you a rain check on the coffee," Dorothy muttered from the kitchen.
He smiled through the rush of adrenalin that kicked in, his colony childhood drilling in the safety routes in case of loss of power systems. "That's all right," he said instead. Turning back to the window, he stood, feeling very insignificant in the full face of a raging storm. And very nervous with the whole situation.
"A majestic force," she cooed, coming up to stand at his side.
"Yes, it is," he quietly agreed. "This never bothers you, does it?" he asked, knowing nothing ever seemed to rattle her.
"No, the storms never bother me," she answered, the thunder nearly drowning her out. "The quiet bothers me."
He blinked, turning to look at her in the candlelit flickers. This place seemed awfully quiet if that was something that troubled her. He took in her expression, noting the difference in her eyes as she looked out.
"The quiet?" he asked gently, prodding her thoughts.
She nodded. "I suppose that is why I never appreciated the Colonies. Everything is too silent there."
He blinked at her a moment before turning to fully face her. "Dorothy?"
She didn't look at him, didn't even acknowledge his movement. "It always worried me when things went silent," she whispered.
Slowly his mind kicked over to what she was saying. It wasn't weather that she really referred to. Everything got quiet with death. Her family had slowly passed away before her eyes. He was sure it was hard living in a house that was always mourning the loss of one member or another….
She blinked, shaking off her thoughts and turned back to him. "Well, that isn't a conversation for tonight," she smirked.
She made a move to turn away when he placed a hand on her arm. Turning back he held her gaze. "What really makes you stay all the way out here?"
She stared, visually taken aback by his words, but just as quickly her eyes narrowed. "What do you care, Mr. Winner?" she snapped.
The comment released his hand from her arm as his emotions cringed at her tone. "I'm sorry," he added, not meeting her eyes.
He heard her sigh as she turned to face the windows, hugging her arms in front of her. "I didn't mean to snap at you," she whispered.
The small apology only increased the worry in him. It was rather… un-Dorothy-like. Trying again, he worked up his nerve, trying to place his words right. "I do care. We both have pasts that can haunt us in the middle of the night. I don't pretend to know yours, but… I wish I could help."
Quatre swallowed, almost counting his breaths as she stood in front of him, outlined between the warm candle glow and the cold, white lightning. It was a long time before she even moved, but he wasn't about to leave her side. There was something nagging at her terribly in the dark.
Slowly she turned to face him, her eyes down. He slowly relaxed, letting her take her time, figuring she would be back to teasing him viciously for his words any time.
Looking up she locked eyes with him as she stepped in close. He felt her hand lightly touch his side and he had to forcefully keep from flinching back from the surprise move. She held his eyes, no sign of the customary smirk she typically wore.
"Did I leave a scar?"
He blinked, taking a moment to figure out what she was talking about. Slowly her eyes trailed down to her hand on his side, and he got it. Smiling tightly, he forced him to relax, figuring she was back to her old tactics. "It just proves I can never forget you."
Her eyes closed as her hand slipped away from him.
Looking down at her, he realized too late that she was wrestling her emotions, and obviously their battle on Libra was at the heart of it now.
Not knowing what to say, Quatre cautiously reached out to set his hands on her waist, checking to see if she would accept a comforting touch. He stood so that her bowed head was a mere inch from his face. Her body trembled slightly, but she made no move to withdraw from his touch, nor did she move closer or even acknowledge his embrace with one of her own.
It was not a demeanor that he would have believed Lady Catalonia was capable of.
Slowly, he leaned in closer, moving his arms into a light hug. Turning his head he whispered into her ear, "Dorothy?" Her only response was a small swallow in her throat. Quatre's heart wrenched for the girl. He knew, possibly better than anyone, what unforgiving guilt could do to a person. Even one of her caliber.
"Dorothy," he tried again. "I understand. I know what the ZERO system can do. It wasn't your fault." With one of his hands he absent-mindedly rubbed the small of her back, trying so hard to give her the right words.
He was rewarded with a tiny sob that he felt more than heard, a tremble that worked its way down her back. Startled, he pulled away just enough to look down at the top of her head. "Dorothy?" The concern he felt lined his voice more than he would have liked.
Slowly she shook her head back and forth. "It was my fault. It was all my fault," she whispered, barely being heard over the occasional thunder outside.
"No."
He noticed her swallow again and slowly she lifted her head to look at him. Through the dim candlelight he could barely see two trails sparkle under her eyes. Tears. From the woman who couldn't cry…. He felt an odd mixture of concern and relief from the realization, but it did nothing for the fact that he would have done anything not to see her cry.
"I can't blame what I did on a machine," she whispered, a bit stronger with her emotions.
He blinked, and then looked away, not wanting to think about what he was going to try to explain. "The system… has a way of bringing out what we don't want it to. I know that better than anyone, Dorothy."
He felt her place her hand over his side again, gently resting it against him as though she were afraid that she would still hurt him. He turned his eyes back to face her, but found her gaze on her own hand. "You're so much stronger than I am."
Quatre didn't breathe, her hand feeling hot against him.
"You can admit to the things you had to do." Her voice was unclouded now, low and eerily monotone, but there was no trace of tears in it. "I've been so afraid of even apologizing." She let her hand slip away, leaving him feeling cold and unable to find his voice. "I'm sorry," she whispered, again dipping her voice so low that she could barely be heard.
Through the near constant flicking of the outside storm he watched one large tear fall down her check.
His heart caved in under the weight in his chest. On sheer impulse he leaned into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, pulling her into a real hug. The move didn't seem to catch her off guard as she gradually relaxed and laid her forehead against his shoulder.
With his lips next to her ear he whispered quietly, "I already forgave you a long time ago."
She slumped a bit closer to him, not raising her head to be heard. "I don't deserve it."
His back stiffened and a shocked breath escaped him. She didn't deserve it? She didn't deserve the person that she hurt to forgive her? How did that makes sense? All he would ever want in life was one person whose home he had destroyed to tell him that he had been forgiven for losing his mind to the ZERO system! And….
And, he wouldn't believe them either.
Unconsciously he tightened his arms around her as he stared out the window behind her, not seeing a thing but the dark emptiness of space where that entire colony had been….
He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be forgiven. He deserved to die. Die in the dark of space. Just like his father had….
He snapped his eyes closed. He knew that way of thinking too well. The guilt that had driven him mad, totally and completely insane. The inability to distinguish between what he had done, what had been done to him, and what had happened to his family. He had taken the blame for all of it for so long that all of a sudden, it became someone else's fault, all of it. And he had wanted to destroy all of space in order to kill that figment of his imagination that had caused all of that pain.
Quatre slowly looked back to remind himself that he was tightly holding someone in his arms that had all of those same feelings flooded into her consciousness by the same system that had finally given him a way to unleash the horrors in his soul.
He unwrapped his arms slowly from around her, sliding his hands to her sides and gently pushed her back a few inches. She leaned back at his touch but didn't raise her head.
"You weren't responsible for what happened to your family."
The odd absurdity of the comment made her finally raise her eyes to meet his.
"You weren't responsible for what happened to any of them because you couldn't help." He held her gaze and slowly leaned in closer. "You have to let them rest."
She blinked at him, searching his eyes.
A small smile tugged at his mouth as she slowly responded to him. "But I'm still here, and I forgive you." She lifted her chin farther, not so afraid to look him in the eye. "You're too kind to carry this guilt around with you. You have to give it back, Dorothy, or it will destroy you." Her eyes widened just before he pulled her in close again, wrapping his arms protectively around her.
Her chin rested on his shoulder a moment before he heard her whisper, "I don't want to forget."
He smiled into her hair and closed his eyes. "You won't forget them, you just don't have to be responsible for them anymore."
Quatre felt her body slowly relax against him, molding into him, and felt her hands gradually work up to his lower back. He felt her sigh, sliding her arms around him and up his back. She felt hot—searing hot—against him. His senses were overextended as he memorized her body as it pressed against him. She turned her head and laid her cheek on his shoulder, her nose brushing his neck. A lock of her hair fell over his shoulder and down his side.
A flash-bang sounded from the outside and he felt one of her hands on his back close around a piece of his shirt. He didn't know how long they remained there; he was occupied deciphering her life from his own. They were too similar for this moment to have been an accident.
The pelting rain on the windows turned harsher, sharp notes were heard over the deep baritone of the flood. He felt her raise her head from his shoulder, and her nose brush along his jaw line as she brought her lips next to his ear. He blinked his eyes open as she whispered to him. "I'm sorry, Quatre."
He paused, afraid that his words hadn't truly subsided her guilty feelings.
"This wasn't how I planned dessert."
He let himself grin at the comment, sensing the same fiery, self-confident woman he had come to know in her voice. He pulled away enough to look her in the eye, the smile still in place. "It's all right," he assured.
There was a sparkle to her eyes that he remembered well, seeing it at its finest during their dealings. He nearly laughed at it now, feeling, for once, he had really found a way that his past could be useful in helping someone else.
She slipped one of her hands from behind his back, leaving a cool place where her touch had been. Satisfied that she would be all right, he loosened his hold around her, not really wanting to let go.
But she slid her free hand up to his neck and caressed his cheek. The move stilled him and he let her direct his face to where his nose brushed hers. "Thank you, Quatre."
He gazed into her eyes as much as possible through the dark, not exactly registering what she said. He heard her chuckle as her hand moved, and her fingers brushed over the hair that was on end at the nape of his neck. Dorothy's nose brushed his again a second before she tilted her head and met her lips to his in a quick kiss, a kiss that he didn't have the forethought to try to return.
She stepped back and had disentangled herself from him before he had even let out the surprised breath he had swallowed with her kiss. Finally blinking his wide eyes he turned to follow her silhouette as she moved around the table to the side buffet and began opening drawers.
"Well, no sense in sitting in the dark," she said to herself as a small light flicked to life and a new candle was lit, the one on the table having gone out on its own sometime he didn't notice. "Now then, coffee cake?"
A dopey, lopsided grin worked its way onto his face before he turned away from her, laughing. Pacing over the few steps to the window he placed his forehead on the cold glass and just chuckled.
He snapped his head back as a sharp crack sounded against the glass. He looked out, finding only the same storm that had raged all night long… with an exception.
"Um, Dorothy?" She was giggling to herself as she rummaged in the kitchen area again. "There is snow bouncing around out there…."
Slowly sliding up next to him again, she wrapped herself around his side, placing her chin on his shoulder. "Hail, dear Quatre. Just hail."
"They sicken of the calm that know the storm." - Dorothy Parker
Proofed by: Lay Hime. Thank you!