Operation: Make Quatre a Guy! 2/3
Quatre scowled at his closed door. Duo was on the other side of it, rooting around in his closet and leaving him to sulk out in the hall. "I'm updating your wardrobe, Quat," Duo had stated with an irrepressible grin and a braid that moved like a cat's tail twitching. "Noteveryone has their sisters dress them after age five, after all, and contrary to your apparent belief, pink is not a colour that screams 'I'm a guy.' Actually, it kind of says the opposite."That had been two and half hours ago.
Sighing,Quatre finally gave into the realization that simply glaring at the door separating his hands from Duo's neck wouldn't make Duo die any faster. He gave it one last mournful glance before heading downstairs to where, hopefully, the other ex-pilots would provide enough distraction to keep him from committing justifiable homicide. They were both of them set up in the kitchen, Wufei putting together a late lunch and Heero industriously breaking into the Preventors' bank accounts. "For practice," he said, smirking, when asked; but always mysteriously after he'd gone on a hacking spree, Duo and Wufei called him with various annoyed messages about ridiculous budget cuts leading to shortages (up to, and including, bullets, toilet paper, and handcuffs) (also, paperclips).
Quatre sulked at the kitchen table for a few moments, wondering idly where Trowa was – he was supposed to have arrived yesterday, same as the three other pilots who always chose Quatre's house as the meeting place (since no one wanted to squeeze into either of Duo or Wufei's tiny apartments, nor risk death by mauling at Trowa's where he slept with the lions, and not one of them wanted to know where Heero lived). Quatre couldn't help but think that if Trowa were around, all of Duo's insanity would have come to an end and they could have had fun hanging out instead of Quatre being miserable, Duo hyper, Heero amused, and Wufei hysterical.
It was while lost in these types of thoughts that Quatre could hear at the door a sharp, persistent, rap-tap-tapping; could hear the shrill, "Heeeeeeeeeero! I know you're in there – Une told me so!"
More than the voice, more than the tone – Heero's wide eyes and exit from the kitchen at a speedy blur, delayed only as long as necessary to gather his laptop in his arms, told Quatre who had just come for a visit.
Oh, Allah. It was Relena.
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"This is perfect," Duo said, arms full of Quatre's clothes, beaming. "I couldn't have planned it better myself!"
Quatre blinked. "Excuse me. You're happy that Relena 'Everything Perfect is Pink' Peacecraft is here. Relena."
Duo rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. It's the best way to mark your current position! You did do your proper host thing, right, and ask her to stay?"
"Well, yes," Quatre shifted uncomfortably; he could feel Heero's death glare all the while as he invited Relena to stay the night since his safehouse – er, mansion – was located so far away from the nearest city and Relena had already sent away her taxi. He anticipated a few murder attempts on him in the future as Heero made his displeasure known. "But what does that have it do with it?"
Duo smiled. It was a nice smile, wide and joyous. Dread tingled up Quatre's spine. "You're going to seduce her tonight!"
It took around fifteen minutes for Quatre to remember how to breathe. Gasping, he stuttered, "You – You're crazy!", to which Duo replied, "Well, yes, that is true."
"I can't seduce Relena," Quatre said desperately. "She's… she's… she's Relena!"
"Yes?"
Oh no, that voice hadn't just come from behind him. Fate wasn't so cruel. Except, turning around, Quatre discovered that it really, really was, because there was Relena with a quizzical look on her girlish face, Wufei distastefully holding her bags beside her.
"Did you want something, Quatre?"
"Uh. Um." He couldn't come up with words to speak, running through his mind on repeat Duo's stated, 'You're going to seduce her… you're going to seduce her…' Relena reached out with one concerned hand and Quatre leapt backwards. Panicked, he yelped, "I don't want to do it!" and ran away.
He darted into the closest room he could find – the linen closet – only to find it already occupied. Heero glared at him from behind his laptop screen and looked about to say something scathing when they both heard three sets of footsteps running past, Relena worriedly calling out, "Quatre? Quatre, what's wrong?" Heero's eyes widened comically to take over half his face, and Quatre was sure his must have looked much the same. They held their breaths in stifled fear, releasing them only after they were certain the danger (ie: Relena) was past.
Heero cocked his eyebrow and asked quietly, "Why hide from her when you're the one to invite her?"
Just as quietly Quatre replied, "Duo."
"Ah."
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Quatre was a born diplomat, a master strategist, able to manipulate people and situations on a global scale. Duo was… well, he was Duo. And that was more than enough to get Quatre into a suit (not lavender or pink like the ones Fatima – his eighth oldest sister – had picked out, but classic black with a white undershirt and no tie) and escorting Relena (herself dressed in a silky pink slip-like dress that fell to mid-thigh) down to a semi-formal dinner.
They weren't the only ones at the dining table that night, because that would be too obvious and suspicious and the whole plan was for Quatre to charm Relena into kissing him without her having a clue about what was going on. If he could manage to do that, Duo promised to leave Quatre alone about his manliness, which very nearly wasn't enough to get Quatre to agree to the whole mad, mad scheme. He finally capitulated from fear of what Duo would come up with next.
Relena seemed surprised when Quatre appeared at her door with a lone carnation in hand, but her blush upon receiving the flower was favourable and Quatre began to entertain hope that the night wouldn't be completely in vain. He offered her his arm and they walked down to the dining room together, making idle small talk that Quatre, after a lifetime of practice, was skilled at but truly despised. Relena seemed to delight in it.
At the table, Wufei was already sitting down. He'd been the one to cook, surprisingly competent in the kitchen; and dressed in the formal silks of his clan, he looked severely handsome. Duo had reverted to a stylized version of his war-time priest outfit that fit considerably better and opened widely at the throat, and had loosened his hair to fall in waves down his back. He held various dishes in his arms and beamed at Quatre and Relena as they came into view. Heero was nowhere in sight, unsurprisingly.
"Sit, sit," Duo invited; not caring that Quatre was the supposed host, not him. "Dinner is served." He bowed lowly to them, and Relena giggled. At the sound, Duo sent a smug glance at Quatre, as if to say, 'See? That's how you do it.'
Not to be outdone, Quatre pulled out Relena's chair for her. Duo beamed proudly at him while Relena continued to blush, though her forehead acquired a few puzzled lines. Across from her Wufei smirked.
As dinner (baked salmon and potatoes plus a garden salad) progressed, Quatre found himself more and more at a loss. What did you do when you wanted to seduce someone? Well, he amended, casting a glance sideways at Relena, he didn't want to seduce Relena – it was more like he lacked the option not to, knowledge reinforced by the urging looks Duo cast him every few seconds.
Quatre bit his lip and felt sweat spring to his brow. He had no clue what to do next.
The rest of the evening loomed before him, imposing and impossible, and the only thing Quatre Winner knew with any certainty was that he loathed Duo Maxwell.
One more day, Shrimpy! Oh, and, Next on 'Operation: Make Quatre a Guy!': Quatre doesn't get his kiss, Duo doesn't get his wish, and Heero misses out on the fish. Relena slaps someone and Trowa (finally!) makes an appearance. If you readers like this story, please drop a line saying "Happy Birthday" to Shrimpy as it's her birthday soon and it'd really really make her day!