Author's Notes: On to the part I like!!
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. DOH.
Four Weddings and a DivorceChapter 1:
Dorothy Catalonia was unnerved.
Of course Quatre insisted the he come to her office. If she wanted to see him, she would have to leave the "security" of the corporation's halls and go right into his office. Right into the lion's den. She knew what he was doing of course. In a public area, they were equal in footing, in his office however, it was an entirely different matter altogether.
She let Quatre's peppy little secretary lead her into the office. Melissa was more than a little annoying but Dorothy didn't let that bother her. One week while into the job, Dorothy had managed to straighten her out—the way she looked at and talked to Quatre. No matter how annoying, Dorothy always tolerated women, as long as they kept their paws off her man that is. No, no, Dorothy Catalonia!! He is NOT your man, dammit!!
"Mister Winner, I have a pleasant surprise!!" Melissa called as she opened the door. Dorothy stalked into the office, brushing past the secretary, her black stilettos clattering noisily until they came in contact with the plush carpet in front of Quatre's desk.
Quatre smiled boyishly. "Pleasant indeed."
"I would like a word with you, in private." Dorothy said coldly.
"Of course." Quatre's smile grew wider. "Melissa, please lock the door behind you."
"Yes Mister Winner." Melissa closed and locked the door.
Of course, Quatre would insist on having his secretary lock the door after her. That is just like him. Underhanded… manipulative…Dorothy's icy blue eyes met his vivid green ones, sparkling from beneath his tousled golden hair. He was still grinning impishly. Handsome… no you fool!! Insult him, Dorothy Catalonia.
"Please, take a seat." Quatre said politely.
"I would rather not." Dorothy snapped through gritted teeth.
"Very well…" Since she was not sitting down, Quatre stood up. He took a few steps and stood about two feet away from her. "Shall we talk?"
"Quatre Raberba Winner," she began in a haughty tone. Whenever she used all three of his names with that tone, she was sure she got his full attention. "Quit dragging your feet!!"
"Whatever are you talking about, my love?" Quatre asked, his tone betraying that he had at least some idea of what she was on about.
Dorothy glared at him, the anger she was feeling intensifying her blue eyes. And he felt just like back then when they first met, and back when they were fifteen. Looking into her ice blue eyes. He felt shocked. Like he was drowning in the depths of those icy blue, a chill jarring him, settling down his bones.
"THIS!!" Dorothy yelled, snapping Quatre out of his reverie. She flung the thick folder containing divorce papers at him. "This is the fifth time I've personally come here to deliver these papers. I need them signed now."
"But dear," Quatre began. "I'll never sign papers divorcing me from my beloved."
"That is enough, Mister Winner!!" Dorothy shrieked, her voice teetering on the edge of losing control. "I need you to cooperate!!"
Quatre drew nearer towards her. "Mrs. Winner…"
Dorothy raised her chin defiantly. "I go by Dorothy Catalonia again, Mister Winner."
"Mrs. Winner…" Quatre insisted in an infuriating tone. Before she realized it, he was standing before her and he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Dorothy…"
"Quatre!!" Dorothy cried exasperatedly. "Stop that!! Stop—"
Quatre bent down, his lips nearly touching her ear, softly whispering Arabic phrases that barely made sense to her… but she loved hearing nonetheless…
Dorothy shivered, his closeness and the sound of his gentle voice talking in the strange language slicing through her cool and composed exterior. "Quatre…"
He continued whispering, the ardent words becoming more and more passionate, a thousand declarations of love. He continued whispering even as his lips grazed her neck and he brought up a hand to touch her silky cheek.
"Do not do this." Dorothy said softly, nearly begging. She squirmed, but his arms would not let go of her. She settled for turning her back on him and turning her head away from him.
Bad move.
His arms tightened around her and her tilted head gave him easier access in kissing her neck. Quatre felt her knees weaken and he caught her.
"Quatre, stop."
"Hmm??" Quatre murmured, his lips never leaving her neck.
"I'll run a foil through you again." Dorothy threatened through her gritted teeth.
"That's hardly an option now."
He was right of course. Despite the Gundam pilot's seemingly innocent and timid exterior, he had Dorothy wrapped around his little finger. Outwardly, she seemed to be the dominant one in their relationship and he let other people think just that. It does not matter anyway. After all, when the two of them are alone, it's Quatre who does the steering.
In vain, she tried to resist, nearly crying out in dismay as she forced herself to tear his hands off her. Or tried to rather. His gentle, caressing hands sought to touch her and that's just what they did, ignoring the ineffectual pulling of Dorothy's hands.
"Quatre," Dorothy moaned. "Stop." Her tone was screaming otherwise.
One of his hands started zipping down her dress.
It was just too much for her. His voice and the soft, Arabic phrases. His lips on her neck. A hand on her shoulders and now a hand starting to undress her. Dorothy tried stopping at least one of these many things Quatre was doing to her at once. Try to ward off some of the sensations forcing themselves on her.
Quatre's hands were on her waist again and he forced her to turn around and face him. He took Dorothy's hands, guiding them toward his tie.
I… I'm pulling down his tie??…
One by one, articles of clothing dropped on the floor. Dorothy watched with helpless fascination. Fantastic. My hands are doing things I'm telling them not to do…
The coldly logical part of her brain was screaming at her to STOP, but her damned primal instinct was pushing her further. Quatre lifted her off the ground and he lowered themselves down the nearest couch. Dorothy collapsed against him, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes clouded with love. Quatre could just make out the desire etched on her features through his blurry green eyes. He gave a satisfied smirk. There was no turning back now.
One last time… A woman is allowed one last time with her husband… Even though she needs to divorce him… Dorothy assured herself. And that was the last clear thought she had before she pulled him closer, her fingernails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his back. Love me Quatre… Fill me with hopes that you are truly mine, and mine alone…
Author's Notes: OOH!! A naughty Quatre!! I have seen this done in other fics and I wanted to do it too!! Seme-like Quatre, LOL!!!!!!