Quatre stood at the bottom of the stairs. He turned and paced several times. Checked his watch impatiently.
"Avi! We're going to be late! Its already 7:45!"
"I'm coming!"
Quatre walked back and forth. Checked his watch again, and resumed pacing. Looked up the stairs.
"AVI!"
"I'm coming!"
"That's what you said ten minutes ago!"
"I'm coming!"
"Oh, for Pete's sake!"
He walked back and forth again. He could feel the bulge in his pocket from the necklace he was going to give her. He smiled. When he had gone on and 'engagement' he had really been getting this necklace from a master craftsman in Dublin, Ireland. She was going to love it. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs again. He was about to call up again, but then he saw her at the top of the stairs, and his jaw dropped. She was wearing a dark green satin gown, with silver silk trim, and lace. Her dress sank off her shoulders and widened into bell sleeves. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a complicated mass of curls and braids that had ringlets pouring from the back of it, down the nape of her neck, and around her face. She wore almost no makeup at all, except for dark mascara and rosy lipstick. She descended with a shy smile on her face, as she lowered her eyes when she approached him.
"You look magnificent."
She blushed. She was so beautiful. He did not deserve her at all.
"Thank you. So do you, actually."
She lifted up her dewy brown eyes to meet his and smiled softly. Quatre could feel his heart thump in his chest. He fumbled slightly drawing the necklace box from his pocket.
"I got this for you. Merry Christmas."
He opened the box and felt his heart soar when she grinned in delight.
Avi couldn't remember being more shy. Here she was, with a man who was to be her husband, whom she had spent the past five months with, and she could barely meet his eyes. He was in a black tuxedo with a black bowtie and a white shirt. His hair was falling all over the place as always, and his eyes looked at her with such intensity, she felt like she was going to start giggling like a school girl. He opened the box softly, and her breath caught in her throat. It was a delicate, ornate chain. With complicated Celtic pattern that was made to look like silver tree branches. In the center was a large diamond. It was nearly the size of nail on her pointer finger. She breathed out softly.
"Oh, Quat, it's beautiful. I love it."
He gently lifted it out of the box, and circling behind her, slipped it around her neck. He did the clasp, and she could feel his hands brush her skin softly; sending tremors and shivers up and down her body. He rested his hands on her shoulders for a moment. She relished the heat that seemed to constantly radiate from his body. He removed his hands, and Avi could barely stifle a soft sigh of disappointment. He put his coat on, and after helping her into hers, he ushered her out into an awaiting limo. As they pulled up to the banquet hall, Avi smiled to herself in ecstasy. Everything was absolutely beautiful. The columns had garlands of ivy and mistletoe covering them, and red roses were set out in huge bouquets next to the entrance. Quatre got out of the car, and offered her his arm. She slipped her hands around it, and walked with him to the doors. A foot man inside took their coats, and directed them to the main hall. There was a large table laden with food and drink, and couples milled about on the dance floor and off, eating, drinking, and laughing. She felt Quatre put his arm around her waist, and sweep her onto the dance floor. A waltz was playing, and Quatre proved to be a superb dance partner. Avi felt completely weightless as he gracefully led her in the dance. His arms were tight around her, and she gazed into his eyes, unable to look away from the hypnotic green-blue stars. The dance ended, and Quatre led her off the floor. Almost instantly, a tall, broad shouldered man walked up to Quatre. Quatre turned and laughed, as they shook hands, and clapped each other on the back.
"I haven't seen you in so long! How are you?"
The opposite man had light brown hair. Most of which was thrown over one eye, giving him a mysterious, rakish look. He smiled slightly.
"I'm fine, Quat. And you?"
Avi watched as Quatre turned toward her with a huge smile.
"I'm great." He pulled her by the hand closer to himself. "Trowa, I want you to meet my fiancé, Avarona Liv Rothgar, daughter of Count Rothgar in Great Britain. Avi, this is Trowa. He was one of the pilots with me in the war. He is also a dear friend of mine."
Avi looked closely at him. She felt like she knew him from somewhere, but where? She instinctively hid the hand that had the scar on it, among the folds of her dress. Trowa bowed slightly, taking her hand.
"It's a pleasure, Miss Rothgar."
Avi met his eyes, and was surprised to see her own confusion mirrored in his eyes. There was something so familiar about him, but what was it?
"The pleasure is all mine, sir. Quatre has told me so much about you. It's an honor to finally make your acquaintance."
He nodded slightly and released her hand. Quatre grinned. "Trowa, will you join us? We have quite a bit of catching up to do."
Trowa responded by another nod. Avi could tell that Quatre's friend was not one for words. It bothered her that she could not place him. She felt like she knew him from somewhere. The three of them walked together. Quatre and Trowa did most of the talking, while Avi just tagged along and listened with half of her attention. Several times she caught Trowa looking at her with that same wondering expression that she was sure she was also wearing on her face. But if he had any idea where they had met before, he did not let her in on it.
At the end of the night, Quatre invited Trowa to stay a while at his home. Trowa accepted, and the three of them found themselves on their way home. Avi sat next to Quatre on the seat. She was slightly tired, but wanted to stay awake, and watch the snow that had just started to come down. It was about 11:35, and the stars were out. It was a beautiful, romantic night. She smiled to herself. Every night with Quatre seemed to be romantic. As the limo pulled up in front of the house, Quatre and Trowa got out first. As Quatre paid and thanked the driver, Trowa walked around the car, and opened the door for Avi. Avi was about to get out on her own, but Trowa stood directly in front of her, and regarded her for moment, before offering his hand. The way he was standing in front of her did not give Avi much of a choice, except to take it. At that moment she forgot about her scar, and put her hand in his to help her out. Trowa helped her out, and then grabbed her wrist fiercely and looked into her eyes. His voice was low and dangerous.
"OZ Agent 442, otherwise known as Tracy Buck. We meet again."
Avi looked at him in horror. She suddenly remembered why she recognized him, and all the memories from that day came flooding back. She uttered a little cry in disbelief. She looked behind him straight into the eyes of Quatre who was standing there in shock.
"Trowa! What's all this about?"
Trowa looked at her again. "I wasn't sure at first, but the scar on your hand is extremely identifiable."
Quatre took Trowa's hand off Avi's wrist and looked at him. "What in the world are you talking about?"
"Ask your blushing bride-to-be. She has quite a story to tell you no doubt."
Quatre looked down at Avi, "Avi, what is he talking about?"
Avi could feel tears beginning to course down her cheeks as her lips trembled. She choked on her words. "I'm sorry, Quat."
"Sorry for what? About what!"
"I…I lied to you. About the war, and about…Oh, Quatre, I don't know how I'm supposed to tell you!"
Avi looked at Trowa, but he only returned her look with one of cold disappointment and sadness. Quatre shook her.
"Avi what can't you tell me?"
"I didn't stay at a convent during the war, my maid…she, I..."
Avi squeezed her eyes. She had to tell him. And it had to be now.