((I know, seriously long pause (in my writing style anyway) between this chapter and the last, and I do apologize for that. I've been busy, like seriously busy, so working out time to escape and relax myself by writing has been holy hell. But I am moderately pleased with this chapter despite the time it took to get it finished, and I can almost promise that either the next one or number seven won't be postable here because of some adult content. In otherwords, when we get to that, if you still want to read, you'll have to follow the story along through my account on The name there is different than this one, but it's the same stories, and I'll give that out when we get to it. Also, be warned, this chapter is continuing off where we left them before I did that interlude back at the crummy safehouse.

Which brings me to another point. I am still surprised with the attention this story was getting, extremely please, but still a touch shocked... Namely for the fact that the writing is liked at all, because I wasn't expecting that, but more so for the fact that this one is doing better than my first attempt, which I still consider to be the better of the two. So, here comes the hook. -- If you haven't read that one (which you can find by looking at my user name or under the title 'Winter's End', while you are waiting around for the next chapter here, I pitifully beg you go look at that. The pairing is different, but over all, I think that story is better... And it's finished too. Mush thanks as always to the people that read this, and all my gratitude for the sweet reviews, plus my undying love to my two biggest supporters, the ever loyal Quinn and the gorgeous Fishie.))

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"No?"

The boy looked up and gave him a dry 'are you deaf' look, then nodded and repeated himself. "No."

Zechs winced inwardly. It seemed unlikely that there was chance to get the blonde begging before he started now, impossible to make him look like some kind of misinformed child so that he could use that image and label him helpless with no real information to offer them. That stubborn attitude would only make people around here more angry that he'd dared to break in, and even being caught, he didn't regret it… And Trieze would want his example made.

But perhaps if he was careful, he could make this as easy as possible for this prisoner. He could skip over all those little crimes and pains that warmed others up to be broken. Go directly for the 'kill' as it was and make it look like he was going to do something that would scare him badly enough to break before he'd actually begun.

Still, before immediately leaving to get his supplies for that idea, he was willing to try to see if the boy's mind could be changed, despite that solid negative answer.

Leaning slightly away from the door, he looked around the brilliantly lit chambers thoughtfully, then back to that neat little form. All he needed was an edge. It was too soon after he arrived for food to have been delivered. Perhaps that was the perfect way for him to make himself look less like an enemy and more like a friend who'd just be introduced through uncomfortable circumstances. "Are you hungry?"

One golden eyebrow arched. Food? They are going to try to lure me into babbling about my mission with food? I haven't been here a day yet! Surely he can't believe I'm already -that- hungry! Still, even if it was to be used in that regard, it was worth trying for and he knew he more than had the restraint to be able to deny the urge if they were using whatever they brought for that.. He needed his strength if he was to escape. He tipped his chin up and gave the soldier before him a tight-lipped smile. "Yes, I am. Very kind of you to offer."

Not just young, he thought as he contemplated those words. Between that answer and the posture he'd witnessed since entering, certain things became obvious to him. But from a well-to-do background as well. So what was he doing here? This isn't even just a little petty crime. Why would someone like that do something like this? It's absurd!

But maybe those were answers he could get through this method. "Very well, I'll order you a tray then." Keeping himself facing the potential danger, he paused with his finger almost on the speaker's switch. Rather just taking whatever was given, here was another way to warm the youth up to him. A little wedge to put between the term of prison guard and friend. "… What would you like?"

Quatre blinked up at the elegant face of his captor, surprised in spite of himself. "I… I'd like-"

"I think he'd like to sit at a nicely set up table, have a real four course meal brought to him, and some polite conversation with people who aren't going to hurt him if that's at all possible, that's what I think."

Both of the blondes within the small chamber jumped as that contented sounding purr rolled out from the speaker that Zechs had been about to touch. To Quatre, it immediately made him think of his training at home. Of those regal gentlemen who could go about doing -anything- and who always seemed to come out clean anyway. It brought to mind images of polite parties, of people who handled everything with that same, trained grace. To Zechs… It reminded him of a large cat of prey. A huge lion perhaps, sitting outside of this cell with his tail swishing behind him in expectation and a large, dopey grin on his otherwise noble features because he knew he'd just cornered something he wanted.

If his own training had been anything less, he probably would have slumped in disappointment and cursed his bad luck while making silent promises that the older man would pay. Trieze had seen his little prisoner, and now the beautiful angelic creature had worse things to worry about than his torture.

"Sir." He used that word grudgingly, turning slightly so he was looking at the window and at the figure he knew was just behind it. As if he doesn't already know- "This is the intruder we caught earlier."

There was a soft chuckle, and again came that rumbling, almost soothing voice. "Of course it is. But intruder is such a crude sounding term… More like 'shamefully uninvited guest'. I think that better suits this handsome young man, don't you?"

On the bed, those indefinable eyes widened minutely. Handsome young man?

For Zechs, all of his earlier statements were ringing true. Yes, he was in hell… However, as uncomfortable as Trieze's rather blatant approval of this prisoner made him, it was a good sign that he wouldn't have to go about the things he'd been worrying over. For better or worse, he doubted this blonde male was ever going to have to worry about his body being hurt.

"Yes, Sir."

Unseen, Trieze's lips curved into a small smile as he watched Zechs inwardly struggle. Of course he was trespassing where his lover obviously didn't want him, but he knew the cool blonde would get over it… Would, perhaps, even thank him later. And even if Zechs did give him the cold shoulder for a while, he had no one but himself to blame for trying to discreetly hide this boy. Why, if he hadn't followed out of curiosity, he might have given the order to have this lovely little creature killed without a second thought, and then where would they be? With Zechs having another hissy fit, and in that case, one that he had no clue about. This, he could handle with pleasure.

"And as a previously uninvited but now much welcome guest, I think this young man ought to be apologized to in person, over that meal. Don't you?"

No. I think he should be left right here in the cell, where it's boring but safe from you. He managed to give the mirror a tight smile, nodding even as he noticed the rather shocked look of his prisoner's face in the reflective surface. "Yes, Sir."

"Wonderful that we all agree. Well then, I believe the first order of business would be to get him some proper attire while I go attend to the dinner plans. See to that, will you?" That voice would have sounded normal to everyone else, but Zechs heard the hint of smugness on it's edges. Within minutes he'd been temporarily demoted from the captain and competent soldier he was, into this fair youth's personal attendant.

By the time Quatre gotten over his initial shock at the change in direction this meeting was taking, he'd realized the new opportunities it could open. In here he had no chance of escape unless it was through this tall soldier (not at all a good option he was becoming more and more certain), but if he was removed however suspicious the reason sounded to him, the possibilities would be limitless. And though the next thing that rich voice said eliminated a few of those, it still seemed promising.

"We will need to make sure our guest is completely willing to enjoy our company before just letting him run ramped though, so I hope it doesn't seem too rude of me to insist that we keep you mildly restricted in the mean time. I believe hand cuffs and leg restraints would be the most suitable and still allow you to dine with us."

Without missing a beat and to Trieze's great amusement, the young man tipped his chin haughtily up and smiled graciously as he answered- "Quite understandable, and thank you for your delightful invitation."

Outside of the glass, Trieze smiled slowly again and looked over that delicate face. It reminded him a little of when Zechs was young and they'd first met, before the war split his personality (and names) apart. Another precious child thrown far too young to the wolves of battle. "The pleasure is completely mine, I assure you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll see you in within an hour. I look forward to meeting you face to face then."

The speaker gave a soft click as the button on the other side was released.

Zechs let his eyes drift down to the youth's face again, noting that slight twinge of surprise that was still flickering over it. If he knew Trieze, he imagined he'd be seeing that look several times tonight.

-----

It took Zechs about thirty minutes to first find someone that had 'proper' or at least acceptable clothing that could be made to fit the prisoner's slight form, and then to get it on the boy and begin the trek toward Trieze's chambers. He knew anyone else would have taken twice as long, and that Trieze had suggested he was fine with waiting a full hour, but he still wasn't satisfied with himself.

Looking to the side, he studied the profile of the young man behind him.

The corn silk fine blonde hair tumbled gently over a pale forehead, softening the minuet worry he saw in the lines there but not all together vanishing it. With the delicately pursed lips, he thought the over all affect was surprisingly precious. A stunning man-boy who wasn't getting his way but had enough dignity not to burst into tears or start throwing things… Zechs would have given his fortune to know what was going on behind those lovely sea-like eyes.

But what he would have found there wouldn't have pleased him. It might even have taken all his thoughts of angels and destroyed them.

Several times since leaving the cell, Quatre had thought he saw the perfect opportunity for escape, but each and every one had been thwarted before he could lift his hands to begin it. Either the soldier watching him had the luck of the damned, or was better trained then he had the nerve to imagine. Because luck would fall apart sometime and he could wait for that as long as things stayed at this creepy, but somewhat comfortable level. But training… He couldn't work around that. He wasn't ready to admit to being bested yet, but he wasn't liking that he'd even had to consider that.

When they'd gone for the clothes, he'd been sure there'd be a time when the blonde man would face away from him. But those pale blue eyes never left his, not even to speak to the people he was addressing about obtaining them. The men they had past stared, all with surprised expressions that Quatre wasn't sure how to take, but his guard never minded them. So he had hoped perhaps that he'd trip, or hit a wall and be caught off guard for even a second, long enough for Quatre to take the chains that had been their first stop in getting, and wrap those around his slender throat. He would have killed him if necessary, but he thought he might be able to just take him hostage and then make a clean break for the exit of this brightly lit hell. But the man hadn't tripped. He hadn't even been the one to approach him with the handcuffs. Instead he'd leaned against the wall of that cell with his gun trained right between his eyes, and had had an aide do it. And he might have tried it anyway, if it weren't for that dull look on the older male's face that made Quatre certain that the man wouldn't care about shooting through his own helper to get the bullet into him.

So he'd let that escape attempt pass him by, and had fallen back into the quiet of his mind to come up with another. He was -certain- that with the event he'd been offered one would come along again, it was just a matter of when. But it had to be today, because he was also certain that if he wasn't back by then, his 'failure' in mission by not escaping would become a fact to what he considered his team. And if that was the case, by the next morning they'd come for him. Not to help him escape though… Heero was already angry enough with him for Quatre to even try to reassure himself about being 'friends', and it was protocol.

At least I'd get to see one of them again before they shot me.

The thought of begging if that circumstance came about didn't even flicker in his mind.

So, he had to escape today, had to make it back just a little late but before they could decide he was a threat to their continuing mission. And late or not, he had already retrieved the data that he'd been sent for, so he would be successful if he could just make it to safety. Without being injured or having lost anything, he couldn't see it as a complete loss… Just an unplanned delay. Though admittedly, he needed to more finely train his stealth operating if he got out of this one. Maybe Duo or Trowa would be willing to help.

At last the form behind him informed him quietly that they could stop and were 'here'.

Agreeably, he moved to the side when directed, watching without any surprise as that gun remained steadily on him while the tall figure blindly (and with perfect precision of course, another fact that left him unhappy) opened one of the pair of doors they'd stopped before.

The first thing that his quick senses picked up on was the slight breeze of air that moved out of the open portal, and the dim light beyond. The scent in that air was one of fine wine, some sort of roasted meat, fruits, and then the underlying smell of cologne. He'd never worn it himself, felt foolish doing so for reasons he couldn't explain without blushing, but he knew the scent from his rooming with the other males, and liked it. He thought he could even recognize the brand that was coming from the room. Something 'Water'. It was a calming fragrance, cool… But still one that made your heart jump just a little faster in your chest and your head feel light. His first thought was that it had to be Trowa's since he spent so much time with the tall pilot, but Trowa's didn't immediately bring to mind unexplainable images of blue waves and of sand under a moonlit night.

He held his body stiffly as a shiver tried to work it's way through him. So it's Duo, or Wufei's even. He tried to dismiss the reaction and strange train of thoughts.

The lighting was another matter. Just from that quick glance, he could tell it wasn't electrical. His first guess then would be candles, except his mind usefully supplied the information that it was too large for that. So, perhaps a fireplace. It's warm yellow glow (such a contrast to that scent) flickered on what he could see of a pale white wall by the open door.

The cylinder of the gun nudged him gently on the shoulder and brought him out of his observant daze. He glanced over his shoulder briefly to the blonde behind him.

Zechs' answer was slow in coming as he looked over the youth's noticeably confused features. He could hardly blame him. He hadn't even entered Trieze's room --Den. Lion's den-- and already it held the waiting air of a liar of seduction. "Step through, and wait."

The boy didn't move. Those beautiful wide eyes (aqua? Or maybe teal…?) just peered up at him in blank miscommunication. He didn't blame him for not responding either. It didn't take a genius to know something was up from just the offer he'd gotten after very obviously being caught for breaking into their base and then the room they were about to enter. But the look that the boy was trying to hide, like a little kitten trying to slowly slink back from something that scared it, made him wish he had the power to just turn and lead him back to the medical cell… And than maybe sit him down on the cot, and try to befriend him again. To comfort and keep that look from ever needing to reappear.

But wishes weren't something he had ever put much stock in, even as a child. And even now the thought was fleeting before he dismissed it and gently nudged the boy again, shaking him from his daze with the cold mouth of the gun on his shoulder. "Step through… It's okay."

That last bit had been added when that expression hadn't left the boy's face; a soft, rather awkward throw-in, but to Zechs relief it did seem to help. The worried darkness in the boy's eyes abated, and giving a barely perceivable nod, he faced forward and laid his small hand on the door to push it the rest of the way open. Then he entered the private chambers.

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In the hour's time he'd been given, Trieze had actually been more busy than he had been in days. Surprising considering he was on the verge of creating a war, perhaps… But that plan was in motion already, and it was only now and then that anyone felt the need to approach him and question the directions that had been completely set-up months ago. For now, he was there just in a case, almost a figurehead in the idealistic battle he dreamt up. It didn't upset him though, because that was the way it almost always went. Just like how he knew he'd be the bad guy to the people because of the methods he'd chosen, no matter how grateful they might be with the outcome. And how he had no doubts when he died, he was still be made into some legend. His mortality and simple mistakes, his minor achievements… All of that would be brushed aside for something so much more glorious. He'd cease to be Trieze the man like anyone else, and become someone who children read of in history books and a person that old soldiers drunk too with cheers.

It was one of the few trade-offs he found almost disturbing, it's dark irony not altogether lost on him. And to think he was perhaps on of the few people who'd done this sort of thing that wanted nothing more than to -be- human. He made his errors and never tried to deny them, he had his weaknesses and flaws, and he liked them. He liked laughing at comedies, and was brought to tears by the high reverberating notes of a fine opera. He enjoyed snuggling with his partner when he could convince him it was safe, and he had a strong addiction to white chocolate… But in a few years, when he really had no doubt he'd be dead (either by battle or by execution, or even by assassination after he'd won), those tragically mortal features would be swept under the carpet by time and historians. Only his friends, what few true ones he claimed to have, would remember them as the rest of the world got to know him.

But for now, he had no time to be bitter about a future he'd already laid out before himself; he was just grateful to be busy again. That last hour had been a whirlwind for him. Between having a meal whipped up by the base's small kitchen, the best he could manage without hours of preparation, turning his room into a pleasant, relaxing but vaguely enticing atmosphere, and then finally getting to work on himself, the young general was beat.

The table was stretched out in the main room, far too large for just the three of them, but laid with a dinner fit for a king and his small army. It's glossy surface was covered with a layer of regal white lace, the candles placed at various intervals making this fabric shine like spider webs in the moonlight and seem like a faerie's banquet in the middle of a children's storybook.

Beyond the table a fire flickered in the hearth welcomingly, it's red glow warming the room both physically and in a way that soothed the mind. And before it in a large plush chair, Trieze sat.

It was to that figure that Quatre's eyes were drawn towards first. Widening, they swept over the older man in surprise, noting the white ruffles that rested at his throat like the eager hands of an admirer and the way his dark blue velvet jacket clung to an impressive chest. Beneath that rested a flawlessly white pair of pants that caressed long, lean legs, ending finally in a pair of boots so polished they were almost black mirrors. With his posture of being leaned casually back in the chair as he watched them enter and with one leg crossed gracefully over the other, not to mention the way those long hands were both curled around the ends of each arm of the elegant chair, Quatre had the fleeting thought that he was before a king now.

Unbeknownst to him or the tall blonde that slipped in behind him and closed the door with a sinister click that made them both jump a bit, that thought nearly mirrored Trieze's own perfectly.

Welcome to my court and your cage, little dove.