Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Sotsu, Sunrise, and Bandai. Of course, this fic belongs to me.

The Christmas Party
by Waltz195

The artificial moonlight shone onto the landscape of the park, turning the snow covered vegetation a dark shade of silver. A gentle breeze swayed through the trees, shifting the blanket of white, and brushed aside the long winter coat of a young man, who was casually strolling along the path that cut through the park.

He didn't mind the wind, tilting his head back a moment to let it ruffle his light blond hair. As he gazed at the holographic moon, he sighed contentedly.

'Finally, some peace and quiet...'

BBBRRRRREEEEEEEE!

In a second, the stillness was shattered by a persistent electronic ringing. The young man cringed a moment and tried to ignore it, but soon couldn't stand the grating on his eardrums. Sighing heavily, he reached into his coat pocket for his cell phone and answered it.

"Hello?" he answered reluctantly, silently wishing no one would answer him back.

"Master Quatre! Are you alright? You took an awfully long time answering. Is anything the matter? Do you have adequate apparel? Is the weather very bad? Have you-"

Quatre Raberba Winner, heir and head of the Winner family enterprises, rolled his eyes up at the sky. 'Why me?'

"Yes, Hazziz," he informed the man on the other end. "I'm fine. Nothing's wrong."

Quatre spent the next few minutes trying to calm the misgivings of his hyperactive secretary. He knew Hazziz meant well, but he really was far too overprotective and high-strung. At least Rashid and the other Maguanacs had eased up over the years, giving him some space to grow. Hazziz somehow felt he had to make up for the difference.

"Hazziz!" Quatre spoke sternly, tired of his secretary's constant mumbling. "What is it? Why are you calling me now? I thought we settled everything at the office."

"Oh! Yes, Master Quatre. But you see, we have a little problem," Hazziz replied.

Quatre rubbed his temple wearily. The minute he got away from work or even tried to relax, a problem would always seem to arise.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to gain comfort from the still landscape around him. He'd never really liked the snow, but it offered a calmness he badly needed. "Is it the medical shipment to L1?"

He hoped it wasn't. The children at the Center of Hope orphanage needed the medicine in the coming year. As a contributor to the orphanage, he felt personally responsible for the transactions made there.

"Not at all, sir!" Hazziz assured him. "The Preventers escort has made sure that the shipment will arrive in due time. It's the current fuel stocks. The analysts say it is the best time to sell with the price so high this year, before it drops down again. It's at a-"

"Hazziz, we are not selling any stock right now," Quatre replied, a bit irritated now that the problem had been revealed. "It's Christmas! Go home! Relax! We can discuss this tomorrow."

"With all due respect, Master Quatre. I feel I am of better use here in the office."

Quatre sighed. "Hazziz, you know I'm on my way to a Christmas party with my friends. I'd appreciate it if you only called me for emergency matters from now on."

"Oh! Of course, Master Quatre! Sorry to intrude. Have a wonderful time!" Quatre endured a minute of his well-wishing before he finally hung up.

Quatre spotted a park bench nearby and moved to take a seat. Brushing aside the thin layer of snow, he sank down onto the bench and sighed. Looking up at the moon again, he thought back to when this whole thing began.

A few years ago, when he had just taken over the leadership of the family empire, he hadn't expected it to be so hectic. In fact, from what he'd observed when his father ran the business, it should've been easy. But, there were some of his late father's associates who didn't quite have enough trust in him as of yet. They viewed him as a young boy trying to lead a company beyond his understanding.

However, that was far from true. Quatre had accumulated a great deal of knowledge about the business market in the first year. He now knew the sales and trade strategies by heart. It often reminded him of going into battle really. You had to keep your wits about you and make split-second decisions. But, what he truly lacked, as Hazziz had once politely informed him, was true business-like aggressiveness.

Quatre couldn't deny that. Though he had a great deal of influence, in the toughest trade meetings it had been an aggressive manner he lacked. He knew he had a great strategic mind, but considered himself more of a moderator than anything. He just didn't have a lot of enthusiasm in such debates. Unless they were for an entirely different cause of course, like peace, or possibly against someone like…

Shaking his head, he chuckled at the direction his thoughts had taken. Where had that come from? It wasn't like he'd ever see her again. Nobody had really heard from her after the wars. He supposed she had chosen to continue her life in the peace she once sought. He silently wished her luck.

Subconsciously, he felt the presence of another person wandering towards him. He ignored it, thinking it was another passerby taking a stroll through the park. So, it was indeed a shock to hear the person call out his name.

"Quatre Raberba Winner," spoke a familiar voice. "Fancy meeting you here."

At the sound of that voice, Quatre whipped his head around in surprise...and stared.

"Hilde are you done cooking yet?" Duo called to the kitchen as he walked back up through the hall. "Quatre called about ten minutes ago. He should be here soon."

When he received no response, Duo called again. "Hilde?"

Silence.

He started to worry as he hurried to the kitchen door, quickly gazing around the room. "Hilde?"

Duo spotted movement in front of the stove and cautiously moved towards it. What greeted him was the sight of a forlorn Hilde, tears streaking down her face, seated before an open oven door.

"Hilde," he called softly, crouching down in front of her. "What's wrong? Why the sad face?"

Hilde looked up at him, eyes shining brightly with more unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered. "Duo?"

"Yeah, babe." Looking at her, he was getting a bit distressed himself. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, Duo!" she cried, hugging him fiercely. "It's ruined! Totally ruined!"

The force of her hug threw him off balance for a moment, but he regained enough of his composure to hug her back.

"Shhh. It's okay. I'm here." He patted her back reassuringly. "Now, what's ruined?"

"The rye! Duo, the rye!" Hilde continued to drench his shirt with her tears. "I was so busy decorating the roast and icing the cinnamon rolls, I forgot to set the timer for the rye bread...and now look at it!" She gestured to the oven with a trembling hand. "It's ruined!"

Curious, Duo leaned towards the stove, trying not to disturb Hilde, and peeked inside. There, on a bottom rack, was a slightly overdone loaf of bread. To him, only a portion of the sides appeared overly crisp and dark brown. It still looked edible. Choosing his words carefully, he turned his head to look at her.

"Uh, Hilde?" At her hiccup, he continued. "You know…it ain't that bad. I think we'll still be able to eat it."

Hilde whipped her head up, eyes no longer full of tears but indignation. "What do you mean 'it ain't that bad'? Can't you see it's been scorched beyond recognition? Now, instead of white, wheat, sourdough and rye for dinner...We'll only have sourdough, wheat, and white!" she finished on a sob.

"Hilde, c'mon!" Duo stated matter-of-factly. "You've got enough bread, rolls, and who knows what else down there to feed an Oz army." He paused. "Well, a small rebel group, at least. Besides, I don't think the gang will mind too much if they have charred rye bread. Heck, they've got three others to choose from."

"You think so?" she asked him, wiping her face on her apron. "I want this party to be perfect."

"Don't worry, it will be." He helped her off the floor. "Now, stop crying and get your cute little behind up to change. Quatre called earlier and he'll be here soon. Plus it's already past seven, the rest of the gang should be arriving too."

Hilde gasped. "Oh no, the table setting! I forgot to put out-wait a minute! How many people are we expecting again?"

Duo paused a moment to go over the list of people in his head. "There's about five, just counting the guys and Relena, but I'm guessing Trowa and Wufei will bring along a guest. Catherine and Sally most likely. That's if they can make it."

"Ok." Hilde regained her commanding stature, tears forgotten. "I want you to set out the white filigree china and make sure the food's still warm. I'll finish off the roast and meet you downstairs. Then, we have to clean up." She lightly patted her short, dark hair. "I don't know what in the world to wear."

Duo swept her into his arms, a playful grin on his face. "Wear another apron and I won't be able to keep my hands off you all night."

Hilde whacked his shoulder once more, but blushed with pleasure. "Get going, loverboy!"

Duo shrugged and kissed her nose before moving to walk back downstairs.

"Duo!" Hilde called. "What about this mystery guest you said Relena's inviting?"

"I don't really know!" Duo called back. "She just said don't be too surprised when the person arrives. Something about being an old acquaintance."

"Well, that doesn't help much," she mumbled, tidying up the rest of the kitchen. "I wonder who it could be?"

Quatre continued staring, until he felt his eyeballs start to dry in the cold weather. He blinked a moment, and resumed staring at the person before him.

"Dorothy?" he asked, still unsure if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Before him, a tall, blond young woman clad in a white trench coat smirked. Yes, it was definitely Dorothy Catalonia. The smirk had said it all.

"I'm surprised you still remember me," she answered, tossing her long hair aside. "One would think you'd try to forget someone such as myself." Her voice had turned slightly bitter at the end, but she seemed to shrug it off.

"Why, no. Not at all." Quatre regained his senses, and stood, collecting his suitcase. "I'm just surprised to see you here. A pleasant surprise, actually." He offered her a friendly smile.

It was Dorothy's turn to stare. 'A pleasant surprise?' That was not what she had expected, considering their history.

Chiding herself, she acted aloof, waving off his comment. "I assume you are here to attend this Maxwell's party?"

Quatre was again surprised. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I myself am going in that direction. Though, precisely which direction that is, I have no idea."

He raised his brow in a questioning gesture. "Really?"

Dorothy shrugged again. "Miss Relena insisted I attend as her guest, for whatever reason is completely beyond me. She finally trapped me into it by sending me here to deliver the champagne." Quatre noticed two bottle-shaped bags she held in her left hand. "Her meeting with the finance minister ran late and she asked me to bring them instead."

Quatre noticed the unsure waver in her voice, despite her attempt to mask it. So, she was nervous, was she? Understandable, he thought. After all, she was walking into the proverbial lion's den. She would be dining with people she had once fought against in the past.

"You say you're lost?" he asked, moving to stand before her, a comforting smile on his face.

Dorothy bristled slightly. "Of course not." She turned away and sniffed. "Just a bit misdirected. The map I was given didn't really help. I've been walking around this place for a while now."

"Well, Duo's home is a bit hard to find. I'd be happy to escort you there." Quatre smiled again, then looped her arm in his before she could protest.

Dorothy stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. 'Why is he being so nice?' she wondered, as she let herself be led down the path. She turned her attention to what he was currently saying.

"How have you been, Dorothy?" Quatre asked casually. "It's been a while since I last saw you."

"Oh, I've been well, I suppose," she responded, avoiding his eyes. "I've taken over my grandfather's position at Romefeller and turned the organization into a service for retired and discharged soldiers from the wars. It's been a success so far. We've helped many of them reinstate themselves into society and retirement."

Dorothy couldn't contain the pride she had for the work they'd carried out over the past year. So many of the 'lost souls', as she called them, had come looking to start a new life. The organization had been able to help them do just that. She felt it was her way of paying back her sins during the war. Though she knew she'd never gain true peace unless she forgave herself.

"You must be very proud," Quatre replied, turning his head to look at her. "You've come a long way since the wars."

Dorothy looked away. "Yes, I suppose I have." A dull pain entered her heart, as she remembered her treatment of him during that time. Another act she had yet to forgive herself for.

"So!" she declared, in an overly cheerful voice. "What have you been doing over at Winner Enterprises? Making the world a better place, I presume."

Quatre noted the change in her attitude but didn't comment on it.

"Yes, we like to think we have." He changed their direction as he turned left at a crosswalk. "The pharmaceuticals industry is doing well and we've managed to ensure steady hydroponics production in space."

"Ah, yes," Dorothy commented absently. "You recently outsourced a resource satellite. I think you could have asked for a lesser price on production yield. In fact, you were in a position to take over the company, but, of course, you didn't."

"No, we didn't." Quatre was impressed by her knowledge of his company and their business strategies. He didn't think she'd be interested in that sort of thing, but then again, he didn't really know her at all.

"On the upcoming trade talks with this new textiles company," she continued. "If you were a bit more aggressive, you should be able to get a large portion of their shares, considering they've had a slow year. If you voted on a buyout, you wouldn't even have to cut back on employees. They've had a good record of workforce efficiency."

At first, Quatre didn't realize he was staring at her again. She had so many layers to her; fierce but understanding, proud yet compassionate. He never knew which side was the true Dorothy Catalonia. Maybe she was all these things, still hiding her truest self from the world. She really was an complex person.

"You're quite amazing, Dorothy," he murmured, smiling down at her brightly, his eyes shining with interest.

He was surprised when she turned her head at the comment. Thankfully, for Dorothy, he didn't see the blush coloring her pale skin.

"Not at all. I just try to keep updated on these things. Are we there yet?" she looked around, changing the subject again. "I wouldn't want to keep our esteemed host waiting, though he probably won't be expecting me at all."

"I'm sure Duo won't mind." Quatre mentally crossed his fingers. In truth, he didn't know how Duo would react. "The more the merrier, right?"

"Right…" Dorothy didn't sound quite as convinced.

They continued in silence down the street, until Quatre guided them down an alley and then through another park. Dorothy was beginning to wonder if Quatre knew which way he was going either. They were now in an isolated section of the colony's industrial sector; hardly any residential dwellings here at all. Finally, they stopped at a walled complex, where he paused a moment and led her through a holographic section of the wall, partially hidden by a shrub.

Dorothy was disoriented a moment, forgetting the note about the hologram on the map she was given. They emerged on the other side, in front of a simple white, two-story house, surrounded by what appeared to be a salvage yard.

"An interesting route," she commented, a bit puzzled by the whole thing.

"Yes. Duo has become a bit more security conscious since the wars," Quatre informed her, leading them to the front door. "He chose a secluded sector of the colony and set up security traps all along his property. He only tells his closest friends the safest way to get in."

"I see," she stated quietly, as they stood before the door. "And what about his enemies?"

Quatre paused in the process of ringing the doorbell to look back at her. She face was surprisingly tense and paler than usual. She really was nervous about this party. Turning to face her, he gently took her chin in his hand. He ignored the surprised look on her face.

"Dorothy, the past is the past," he whispered. "Let it go. You have so much in your life to look forward to. Forgive yourself…I have." He smiled at her. "I think of you as a friend now...and I'm glad you came."

Before she could respond, he turned and rang the doorbell.

The jingle of the doorbell announced the arrival of a guest, as Hilde frantically stepped into her low-heeled pumps. Rushing out of her room and down the stairs, she put on her pearl drop earrings and smoothed the skirt of her sleek, navy blue dress.

"Duo!" she called towards the lower-level stairs. "Get up here! We've got a live one!"

Hilde heard him plodding up the stairs and turned to scrutinize his appearance. The moment she saw him, she felt her heart jingle in time with the doorbell and nearly drooled.

Duo had changed into a simple dress shirt, the same shade of her dress, and paired it with a crisp, white undershirt. Complete with black slacks and shoes, his braid neatly groomed, he looked good enough to feature on the cover of one of Earth's celebrity magazines. Duo Maxwell could really clean up if he put his mind to it. She noticed he was smirking and pulled herself together.

"I take it I'm presentable?" he teased, cobalt eyes shining.

"You'll do," she answered, as she made her way to the door, taking care to add more swing to her step. Duo followed.

Hilde swung the door open, smile ready and waiting. But when she saw who stood before her, she stared in shock.

She knew Quatre because he had visited them a few times before, but the woman beside him she could only identify from a recollection of Duo's account during the war.

Strange eyebrows (she noticed those right off), pale skin, long blond hair and a slightly arrogant look on her face. Could this be-?

"Quatre! Dorothy! Great to see you!" Duo greeted from behind her, lightly nudging her elbow to get her moving. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Come in, come in! Wouldn't want that champagne to go to waste now, would we?"

Hilde schooled her face into an inviting expression. "Yes, please come in. It's getting colder out there than a mobile suit in deep space."

The two blondes returned the greeting and stepped into the doorway, Dorothy moving more hesitantly than her companion.

They were relieved of their coats, shaking them off before Duo hung them on the nearby coat-rack. Dorothy noted Quatre had opted to wear a white dress-shirt, tan vest and khakis for the party; reminiscent of the clothes he had worn during the wars. She tugged on her own peach-colored blouse and hoped her white dress pants were appropriate for the occasion.

At that thought, she paused. She was Dorothy Catalonia, why would she care what others thought of her clothing? But, strangely, she found herself doing just that.

They were soon led to a cozy living room, where a fire burned cheerily in the hearth. The warmth of the house encompassed them as Duo engaged Quatre in light conversation. Dorothy clutched the champagne bottles nervously, unsure of how she should act. She was surprised when Hilde approached her, a smile on her face.

"Here, let me get those," she said, taking the bottles from her. "Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable." She motioned to a set of sofas in the center of the room.

"Thank you," Dorothy called to her, as Hilde carried the bottles towards the kitchen.

Gingerly lowering herself onto the sofa, Dorothy looked around, taking in the 'homey' feel of the furnishings.

"Dorothy."

She turned to find Duo smiling down at her.

"Relena called me earlier," he commented. "She explained how she'd be late and that you would bring the champagne instead. Thanks for coming."

Dorothy felt relief pour through her veins. "My pleasure," she responded, her voice calm and collected.

Duo turned and spoke to Quatre again, something about helping Hilde out in the kitchen. Nodding to the both of them, he exited the room, leaving the two in each other's company. Quatre stood where he was for a moment before joining her on the sofa, carefully settling beside her.

"Dorothy," he said, after a beat of silence. "Tell me something?"

She looked over at him, strangely comforted by his presence. "What?"

"Is the champagne non-alcoholic?" he asked, eyes bright with mischief as he looked back at her.

It took a moment for Dorothy to get the meaning behind his words, realizing that he was trying to help her relax. Talking to her as he would to a long-time friend. Such was the way of this kind-hearted man.

Returning his playful look, she smirked, her heart warming with gratitude. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

A second later, the two burst into companionable laughter.