The Stylist
Summary: In this chapter, day four of the bet comes to a loving end and day five opens with snow plows, freedom, and then insanity prevails
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.
Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language
Chapter Eight
Day 4 -is brought to a close
"I'm done with snow," Quatre exclaimed as they entered the suite Trowa and Duo shared. They were the first to leave the late night round two of fun in the snow.
"Good, because I want to warm you up- you alone with me for tonight."
"Oooh, take me to your lair," Quatre said playfully.
"As you wish." Trowa finished removing and hanging up their outerwear and shoes by the door. "This way."
They walked hand in hand down his hallway then stopped in front of the door to Trowa's room. "A moment," Trowa said, his voice hoarse, "of clarification."
"All right. I do know what we're getting into here," Quatre said with a smile.
"Good, but it's not about that, exactly," Trowa said.
"And so…?" Quatre urged him.
"So, you must have a lot of dating material to choose from," Trowa said. "Are you in love with one of them?"
"Not that it is any of your business-" Quatre said, calmly.
"-I think it is," Trowa said. "If you are," he paused, hopeful green eyes meeting determined blue eyes, "then I walk away from this right now. No matter what I've said as a joke or what anyone thinks, I'm not into you for money or escape from the circus or whatever."
"I know…"
"I don't know if you do. When I was a kid, I'd picture homes with people in mansions that looked like cathedrals… I had no desire to be like those people. The comfort was appealing. I can appreciate nice things. What I didn't like was the responsibility having all that, taking care of all that and the people that made it all possible. I'm not using you to climb a social ladder, is what I'm saying."
Quatre nodded, serious. "I know. I have been fed up with being feared and flattered by everyone, but you've never been that way. You and these friends of ours have been the best thing I've ever felt." He placed a free hand over his heart for emphasis.
"So, I haven't been," Trowa chose his words carefully. "Close to anyone for a while—"
"Are you talking about STD's? You should know that all five of us are immune. The doctors gave us—"
"No, I that wasn't what I meant, although, it's good to know that. You should tell Duo."
"I will, Trowa."
"I meant…sharing deep feelings." Trowa drew a deep breath. "Okay, then I ask again: are you in love with someone?"
"What if it's you?" Quatre looked at their joined hands and allowed for a solemn pause in which he seemed to be waiting for an answer.
Trowa raised his eyes from their linked fingers and met Quatre's serene, open, aqua gaze. "Then I guess I'll stay. Let you make me feel whole." He pushed open the door and drew his friend inside.
Candles flickered as each was lit. Trowa started to undress him with sure deftness. "This part's easy."
Socks, pants, which were soaking wet, were removed first. He towel-dried the soft blond hair and did a cursory pass at his own dripping bangs. They were both shaking with cold when he lowered Quatre to the bed and lay down next to him, hugging him to give him warmth. They stayed like that for a long time, not saying anything. Slowly he felt warmth where their bodies contacted one another.
He smiled, his eyes searching the blue pools and proving to himself that then- and forever afterward- anything that might occur to him had already occurred to Quatre.
He looked at the pale, lean, naked body stretched out on the white sheet and stroked the throat then chest, barely touching his skin with his fingertips. Enraptured at how Quatre's eyes and lips quivered when he did so. He slid over top while he searched out his belly with his lips, drawing circles with his tongue until Quatre muscled thighs received him.
Trowa looked into his eyes. "I have never done this with anybody," he confessed, "topped."
"Then you know how I feel." Quatre smiled, "the reverse."
(o)
With everyone gone, Sally and Wufei had the place to themselves for the rest of the evening. They took the elevator to his floor and entered his suite. Sally reached out and touched Wufei's hand.
"What?" he asked uncertainly.
She gazed into his eyes. "We need to talk," she said. She squeezed his hand and let go.
The good humor drained from his face.
At his distraught expression, she quickly said, "Nothing bad, Wufei. Just… you were very quiet and after all I heard the others say today, I wondered what you remembered from our past."
He paused and took a breath, relief in the sound of his voice and softening around his eyes. "Let's sit. Would you like a glass of wine?"
"Yes, please."
Sally was a patient woman. She let him collect himself and start the conversation. If he doesn't get started soon, though, I'll prod him a little.
"I appreciate you doing this in private. I don't think I am ready to share…my feelings with others. Not yet."
"I understand, Wufei. I really do."
He nodded, sipped at the wine, and after thinking through how he wanted to begin, he started his story. "I was a very green pilot and had taken my fighter out for a few small strikes. I had not been tested in battle before that, but I was quick and determined to master it."
He gazed into the distance as if seeing the next part of his story enfold in real time. "I returned to colony L5, my home, but I wasn't there long before OZ tracked me down and attacked. I flew out, trying to take the battle outside the colony. I thought I was holding my own, but the clan leader, Master Long, had no faith in me. Why should he have? I was fourteen and a scholar, not a trained military man!"
His anger devolved into sadness as he told the rest. "I watched in horror as Master Long detonated the … set off explosives over the entire colony… so OZ could not have it. Later, I discovered Master O, one of those doctors Yuy and Winner spoke of and who trained me, had not perished in the explosion."
"I was in shock. Not knowing what else to do, I kept on fighting the OZ forces until Zechs Merquise approached and proposed we unite to fight OZ. I knew enough not to trust the man. He was without honor. He wore a mask—what I'd been taught was the mark of a traitor. So, I refused to join him and fought him off before leaving, too."
"I am thinking that Master Long must have thought better of you than you thought if he left you this business in Sanc," Sally said.
"I was the only survivor. It passed automatically to me, regardless."
"This must have happened before you encountered Treize," Sally said, urging him to talk it all out.
"Yes. It wasn't long after that I remember joining up with Trowa. Although I was unaware of it at the time, I was still in shock from the death of everyone I grew up with. All I wanted to do was take revenge… kill the OZ founder, Treize Khushrenada. We pursued him and engaged him in a duel aboard his naval command ship. He … he… was…is… an outstanding swordsman."
"He was an experienced military man, eight or ten years your senior," Sally reminded him.
"Treize told me that I was honorable to meet him man to man in a duel."
"I'm not sure that would have mattered to me, had I been in your place," Sally said. Noticing that her tone was a little too crisp, she tempered her words next, "but I know how much it must mattered to you then, and now."
"Yes, it was meant to make me feel… worthy, I guess, and to soften the blow to come next- my defeat. It did not, especially when he basically called it! I can remember his gloating words clearly: 'The duel is mine... It was a good fight.'" Wufei gave a disgusted snort.
"You could have defeated him with your fighter jet and he recognized that," Sally said. "Your particular and strict sense of honor, he understood when you landed and agreed to duel him on his vessel—I repeat- a vessel you could have easily destroyed from a distance. That's what he admitted."
"It didn't matter what he said. I was too hot-headed to feel it was all right to lose and be allowed to walk away. I wanted death at his hands if I wasn't able to kill him! It made me question my abilities as a soldier."
Sally laughed a little. "So little confidence in yourself. It's surprising, since Lady Une, for one, warned all her men not to take you on because you were the best fighter she had ever encountered," Sally pointed out. "You placed far too much importance in what that autocratic of a man thought. Still do."
He shrugged and chose not to argue with her last comment. "I was a sore loser and hurt and felt disgraced. I remember somehow following Trowa and staying with his sister, Catherine, at the Bloom circus. Her soup was terrible." He smiled wanly at that memory.
Sally ran her hand over his arm offering comfort. "We could pay her a visit sometime…take her a casserole?"
That earned her a chuckle and warm smile. "An interesting idea. I wonder if she would recognize me?"
"Memories are funny how they work," Sally said in passing. "Have you any good ones from that time?"
"My best memory came after that, actually," he said in a low voice. "I traveled to China where I encountered Alliance Major Sally Po."
"Ha!" She laughed full of pleasure from his affectionate tone. "So funny! As you know, by that time, I was a guerrilla leader leading a band of rebels against the Alliance military leader Colonel Bundt in China."
Wufei said, "Yes, but what you did for me was nothing short of amazing. You helped me overcome my insecurities, get past my depression and pilot again- slay Bundt- defeat OZ. I did it for China, the country than ran my clan out into the colonies. I had no home to return to. I hadn't looked into my family's holdings here in Sanc, like this building. I was lost until you helped me."
Sally Po drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming herself. "You must know I tried to stop the attack on your colony."
Wufei shook his head. "Not that I remember now. Tell me about that, please."
"All right. Well, I was the Alliance Major assigned to decommission the military installations of the L5 colony."
"That's where my clan lived," he said, his voice faint.
"You and a lot of other lovely people I didn't think deserved to be made an example of. I tried unsuccessfully to convince General Septem not to go through with his plan to use poison gas to kill the colonists. When the forces attempting to gas the colony were wiped out, probably by you, I declared the operation a success and pulled back those answering to me alone."
Sally rested a hand on his shoulder making him meet her eyes again. "Believe me; I didn't know more forces would be sent in. Had I, I would have stayed and helped you fight against them. It was terrible. Just plain murder of innocent civilians! I thought I'd stopped it!"
"I believe you. I know. I believe you, really."
"And all this time, I thought OZ did the final damage, and you tell me it was your own leader that destroyed his colony? So unnecessary… such a tragedy!"
"I agree," Wufei said. "And I know you would have fought to the death to protect innocents. You did what you could, under the conditions. What did they do to you?"
"The Alliance didn't know of my treachery right away, and sent me sent to work in an Alliance hospital in Japan. It happened that this was the same hospital that Relena Darlian had taken Heero Yuy. I overheard the interns gossiping about an injured young man's unusually strong body and rapid recovery. That's when I first saw him. After that, OZ took over the Alliance, and my forces barely avoided being captured."
"And after that you took part in many small rebellions against OZ," Wufei said. "So brave. So strong. Thank you for sharing that and for listening and for getting me to talk." His eyes were warm.
"My pleasure," she said. "We're done reminiscing?"
"I think so," he answered."
"Good." She gathered the glasses and rinsed them at the sink, where he met her.
"Time for bed." He kissed her neck. Then her chin. Then gently sucked on her lips before pulling her into his chest. "If you want?"
"Umm, yes…"
Outside, the snow-blown streets were silent. Wherever the snowplows were hard at work, it wasn't in downtown Sanc. Not yet.
(o)
Hilde followed by Heero and Duo, dashed in from one last playful romp in the snow and a snowball fight. Boots, hats, scarves, gloves and lastly coats are dropped and scattered at the door.
"Hey, there's no Trowa or Quatre," Hilde said, noting the dark, empty living room and silent TV screen.
"They are busy," Heero told her. "And so will we be."
"Euwww… Give it a break!" Hilde shouted as she gathered her mound of blankets and kicked them into a nest to sleep in.
Heero had the fire burning with a flick of a button. He tossed Hilde the TV remote after pressing the streaming source selection button. "It's all yours."
"It is?"
"See you at breakfast," he said, firmly.
He grabbed Duo's hand and led him down the hall, intent on one thing, and it wasn't entertaining Hilde this night. Once at the door, a laughing, pliable, carefree Duo allowed himself to be man-handled to the bed.
"Duo, you told me there was nothing in life comparable to the first time you undress a… another person. You left out how… my hands turn every button, every zip, into a superhuman challenge." Heero chuckled lightly at his fumbling fingers.
"Heh…good thing you are super human." Duo let the usually taciturn Heero say what he wanted and do what he wanted. Shaky hands included.
"Nor had you told me about that first brush of my lips against your … bewitching… skin."
Duo moaned as Heero's warm lips touched his neck. "I didn't tell you because… a… I can't remember now… Jesus, 'Ro…" His eyelashes flickered and his eyes closed.
Heero smiled devilishly. "It's a miracle that happens only once and, when it does, it speaks in a language so secret…," he paused to draw his tongue over Duo's lips, "… that, if it was disclosed…," he paused again to place a kiss on Duo's chin and nose and each eyelid, "... it would vanish again forever."
Duo opened his eyes. "Who is this poet-Heero? A-and what did you do to my shy Heero, huh?"
"Just me, Duo. If I can't remember every second of my life, I wish to keep this moment forever, the image of you, naked, lying under me, with your eyes open… watching me."
Heero leaned over him and passed the tips of his fingers over his belly, tracing the outline of the bones of his hips, letting his finger play with the dark hair and treasures nestled there.
Duo smiled, confident and strong. "Do what you like to me," he whispered.
(o) Day 5 - flows by in turmoil
The next morning was brutally cold and sparkling white outside. Work, for some, began after a leisurely breakfast. It was playtime for others, after dragging the reluctant workaholics into the frozen wonderland.
"The world must be starved for fashion news," Hilde said excitedly. "Our website is clogged with hits. Tsubarov called to say he's gotta reorder from his manufacturers to fill all the new orders for his winter wear. Dermail is thanking Mr. Chang for the added boost in sales his products have enjoyed overnight. See what good marketing and video can do?"
"It doesn't hurt to have the darlingest models ever," Sally put in, looking over her shoulder at the data.
The two women, fast becoming best of friends, gazed out the lobby window at the boys enjoying their winter sports, Wufei having joined them today.
It had been harder getting them all outside today than the day before, mostly due to Quatre's need to fulfill the duties of his job. He had barricaded himself in Trowa's room, making call after call. Heero continued to monitor his security remotely on his smartphone, although, he was getting antsy about being away from his central control room for so long a time.
"C'mon, Quat," Duo whined. "Get your nose outta that black hole… sucking you into the void beyond."
"It's my personal digital assistant," Quatre corrected him, "and I'm looking over the accounts."
"Whatever." Duo tapped his foot impatiently.
"The end is near," Trowa put in.
"Adapt or perish?" Duo asked, with a smile.
"Perish," Trowa said.
"All right, you two. I'm done…for now." Quatre gave up.
Here and there a few souls also trapped downtown now braved the winter morning, wrapped to their ears and drawing lines of vapor with their breath in the cold air, very, very cold air. The night winds had swept snow into alleyways and every crevice possible. Billows of candy fluff snow made road clearing extremely difficult and terribly slow.
But great fun for-
"Footprint tag!" Duo hollered. Ignoring the groans and moans from the others, because he knew it was all for show. They needed his playful spirit. "Just like you'd think. But you gotta step in the footprints others have made in the snow. Step outside of another footprint, and you are 'it'."
He pounded Trowa on the shoulder. "You're 'it'! Bwa ha ha ha!"
Trowa put his exceptional acrobatic skills to use. He could tiptoe around, leaving impossibly small prints for others to use, and then backflip to another spot. His balance was uncanny.
"You're the 'cat'," Duo teased him, "not that cute blond over there."
Heero tired of the game first and started a snowball fight. Duo knew from the day before that this wasn't a game he would win, so he called a halt and changed the rules a little.
"It's a snowball relay game—" WHACK!
"NOoooo!" Duo wailed, wiping the wet snow off his chin. He bent over to crush a handful of snow into a weapon of ice. "'Ro! You are doomed!"
Trowa and Wufei pushed snow into a hill to hide behind. Quatre took a hit to his back before diving behind one of the decorative urns. They'd been out long enough to have flattened a few tracks, so running around and attacking wasn't as difficult as before. Still, Duo had his fill when the bitter cold and wetness started to numb his hands. It didn't take much to divert his attention.
"What's that I hear?" Wufei shouted from his position atop a snow-covered vehicle of unidentifiable model.
"Snow plows!"
Quatre and Heero automatically both checked their cellphones.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Quatre cried out. "I have to go in and make a few calls!"
"Hn," Heero frowned at his phone as he stuffed it back in a pocket. "So do I."
Duo waved him off and turned to catch the wind of Winner dashing past him followed by Heero. Both young men disappeared inside.
Wufei tip-toed past him.
"Et tu, Wufei?" Duo asked.
"Yes."
"Hey," Trowa called Duo over.
"What'sup?"
"We haven't talked in a while. Just wondering how you're doing with all this dredging up of the past shit?"
This surprised Duo a little. Trowa and he were besties, but rarely had they engaged in heart to heart talks. He guessed his friend was not doing well running down memory lane. Too many pitfalls- or maybe his was more of a mine field.
"It's a real rollercoaster," Duo admitted. "I'm glad I did something in those lost years. Flying? Who knew I could fly, huh? Murdering a lot of people, blowing up crap, is a bit of a downer, though. And I can't believe I hung out with you guys and never got it on with any of you!"
That made Trowa laugh, a really long belly laugh that ended with him coughing and wiping his eyes.
"It makes me wonder about the damned bet that got us all into this mess," Trowa said.
"Yeah, when we next see 'Fei, we outta ask him if he thinks Khushrenada remembers our past actions, if he knows something or has some hidden agenda." Duo paused at the door, waiting for Trowa to catch up. "I'll bet Winner and Yuy suspect him."
"I won't take that bet on," Trowa muttered.
Once inside, the pair followed the voices of Wufei and Sally to his office.
"Hello!" called Sally. "Come in. We have news."
"Where are the others?" Wufei asked.
Trowa pointed upwards.
Duo pantomimed yakking on smartphones.
Wufei looked skyward and sighed. "You two will have to do then."
"The latest fashions from Tsubarov Studios and Duke Dermail's Consortium are en-route to this building," Sally told them. "They collaborated to hire a snowplow to follow the others and carry several cartons of clothes for us to use for more shots. They have already felt the effects of the added attention their winter wear has been getting due to your popularity."
"More clothes?" Duo queried.
"Their spring lines," Sally enlightened them. "To compete with the Khushrenada products. With proper merchandizing, we can use the classic lines to make the glittery shoes—purse—and safari look styles look like the rather silly fashions they are."
"Rag on them a little," Duo said.
"Yes. It may not ruin Merquise or Khushrenada or put a dent in OZ, but it won't help their PR if some other fashion house shows them up."
"Gotcha. So we have another dress up session once these clothes arrive?"
"That's correct," Wufei answered, ready for a confrontation that didn't happen.
"Sounds good to me." Duo smiled and reached for a cookie from a plateful on the desk.
"Question," said Trowa.
Everyone looked his way, waiting.
"I don't know how much of your past five to ten years you remember, but for me it's spotty at best."
"Well, Sally and I were going over a few things we recalled. I almost wish I didn't, so perhaps you are fortunate," Wufei answered.
"Not likely, but anyway... so… I was talking with Duo and got to wondering about this bet you made and whether or not Khushrenada had some ulterior motive. What does he—?"
"—or Merquise!" Duo put in.
"Or him. Sure. What do they know that we don't?" Trowa sat straighter. "What does everyone in Sanc remember, or anywhere else? Why does it seem all forgotten?"
"I was wondering that myself," Wufei said. "If it puts your mind at rest, the bet isn't very serious; there's very little at stake."
"That we know of." Trowa looked over his shoulder as he heard raised voices coming from outside the room.
(o)
While Duo and Trowa enjoyed tea and cookies with Sally and Wufei, Heero dragged Quatre through the lobby, past Wufei's office, down a corridor to find Hilde in the office she was sharing with Sally.
'Morning!" Hilde cried out, smiling when she saw who her unannounced company was.
"We want to see those OZ security tapes," Heero demanded.
"Good morning, Hilde. Please, it would be lovely if, in particular, you could show us the parts with Zechs' interactions with Trowa," Quatre added diplomatically. Heero! How many times have I reminded you that you could catch more ants with honey than vinegar?
"You didn't look at them yet? Sure. I put together a selection of the worst…in case we could use it in court. Chopped out tons of boring stuff—"
"Where is it?!" Heero barked.
Quatre elbowed him to the side. "That must have taken you a long time to do, Hilde. Thank you. May we see that first?"
"Yeah, just give me a sec."
While she loaded the right memory stick, Quatre asked Heero about a past incident, his words vague. "Heero, you said Trowa stayed behind to fight Zechs while you got away somewhere in the north? I should get him to recall what happened, although I am afraid it wasn't nice. So far, he hasn't said anything…nothing last night either." Quatre looked to Heero. "I wish I hadn't put off looking at this."
Hilde raised one eyebrow. "Zechs' hands were all over Trowa," she whispered. "But listen to what he says in the hall to the men's room."
It was hard to watch. Zechs bothering Trowa was one thing, but his moves were pointed, seductive.
"Read his lips," Heero said. "Even if he can't make a sound, you can see he's repeating 'No, stop'."
Quatre hands fisted, his jaw tightened. "That man is cruel and disgusting." He remembered what Trowa had told him, his words coming back to him, halting, as he had forced them out from between clenched teeth, "- there are certain kinds of people…that have this power over me…I simply…fold."
"Oh, Trowa! My heart!" Quatre removed the memory card and stood abruptly. "Thank you, Hilde, for saving this recording. I hope there is a safe place to store this where no one can get their hands on it?"
"I don't know. You take it and ask Mr. Chang. He's got a safe to put it in, is my guess."
Heero offered, "I do if he doesn't."
"Yes, of course." Quatre charged out of the office.
"Slow down and listen to me," Heero said, grabbing his arm.
"What?" Quatre was hyper-focused, determined to get something done about Zechs Merquise.
"If you are going to talk to Barton, tread lightly," Heero began.
"You are telling me about tact? That's rich." Winner was incensed, starting with wanting to tear apart Zechs and now with Heero's unwanted advice irritating him past his limits. His fingers pounced on his smartphone, keying out instructions.
"Siberia," Heero said, getting Quatre's attention. "Barton distracted Merquise while I got away from a stupid fight. I should have stayed and finished it and seen that Barton got away too. He followed by a few hours, so I didn't give it any thought—until now."
"Until now? How convenient," Quatre snapped as he pushed his way around Heero and stomped off in search of Trowa, and leaving Heero in the hallway wondering what snapped in Winner's brain. His friend was more than just angry, he was crazy angry.
Trowa sensed Quatre's rapid mood swing and was out of his chair and to the office door in an instant. "What's the problem?"
"I want you to tell me about what happened in Siberia—with Merquise." Once said, Quatre let his lover drag him to a private part of the lobby.
"Aw, shit. What makes you think I remember anything about that?" Trowa asked, gruffly.
"Heero says he left a fight with Zechs for you to finish. You followed him a few hours later so he never gave it a second thought. None of you ever gave anyone a second thought, actually."
Trowa chose to ignore that last part, seeing as Quatre was in a snit and wasn't thinking logically, letting his emotions get control of his mouth; much like his good friend Duo, with whom he'd had plenty of experience.
"My guess is he seduced me," Trowa said calmly. "It was years ago and I've blocked the memory, for the most part; at least, I'd like to keep it that way, if it's all the same with you?"
It wasn't.
"You were only fourteen years old and that man had to be at least eighteen or older! He had no right! You couldn't have given your assent; you were still a child! It didn't matter that you were enemies at the time. It was a stupid, stupid fight and he should have just let you both go. He had nothing to gain or lose and no right, NO RIGHT, to abuse you! I'm going to kill him!"
"Calm down—"
Quatre went ballistic.
"No! I won't! It was wrong then and I saw the recordings… it was wrong now, too! And he's not getting away with taking advantage of you- again!"
Quatre had bolted out the front door before it registered to Trowa that he was moving. Trowa was at the lobby door in time to hear the thunderous rumble of a massive engine rounding the corner. The vehicle roared, the engine noise reverberating against the solid buildings' walls as the Humvee edged close to the curb, but didn't shut down. The side door opened and Rashid exploded out from the depths, leaning out, arm outstretched.
The last Trowa saw of him, Quatre was hopping into the gigantic Humvee as it was rolling away. As he rushed out the door to stop his crazy boyfriend, the vehicle was tearing down the partially plowed street, kicking a spray of snow four feet into the air.
"He left," Trowa told Duo and Wufei, who had clustered around him at the lobby door. "He's going to kill Merquise, or so he said."
"He was certainly cross enough to do something foolish," Wufei snarled. "I doubt he'd go as far as murder. Assault, possibly."
"I can feel him," Trowa said. "It's weird but it's like he's on automatic, driven…"
"Like a manic?" Wufei asked. "That doesn't sound at all like him."
He found Sally and Hilde reviewing websites in her office. "I may have to run out and find Winner. Would you mind holding the fort here in case those deliveries come in?"
"Of course," Sally told him.
"You know, maybe if Mr. Winner was really susceptible to the ZERO stuff in the past then he still is? Like, if it is still getting to him, he'd go off the deep end? Mr. Yuy outta know about it. It's part of the communication system we'all use, you know?" Hilde looked around at the blank expressions. "I've been trying to tell y'all about it-AZEROCOM?"
A light went on in each and everyone's minds right then.
"Our phone and internet communications are running on a ZERO-based system?!" Wufei exclaimed.
"Is that true?" Trowa wondered.
"Why yes, like I said," Hilde drawled.
"Where's 'Ro?" Duo wondered aloud. "He was here just a second ago."
"He hasn't access to a car, has he?" Wufei asked.
Duo's eyes widened to saucers. "Mine! That bastard'd better not be hot-wiring my car! He'll screw it up for sure!"
"Or my limousine!" Wufei shouted, sprinting after Duo in his mad dash out the back.
Duo patted his pockets as they ran. "He stole my key!"
"Better yours than mine," Wufei said, hoping his spare set was in his desk drawer.
"He can't drive for shit!" Duo shouted. "His piloting skills were the worst. My caaaaaaaaar!"
(o)
On the way to his office, Quatre had convinced Zechs Merquise to meet him immediately at the Winner office downtown. Now that most of the downtown streets were cleared, it was possible for Zechs to drive there from the palace, where he'd been staying. The OZ complex where his design studio resided was in the new expansion part of town which wouldn't be plowed for many more hours.
Zechs entered the Winner office dressed in charcoal gray wool with a silvery-blue shirt, and pink tie. Quatre Winner sitting at his desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and files, looked every inch the high-tech CEO—with flare. His suit was striking mint green with a paler pinstripe shirt, deep emerald tie and pocket scarf. What caught the older man's attention, however, were the videos. Three walls of the room held over-sized flat-screens, currently playing different fragments of Zechs' molestation of Trowa.
"I can afford to take this to court," Quatre said coolly, "Can you?"
Matching his cool with smooth, Zechs drew out the moment, glazing out the window at the wintry scene then examining his fingernails. "Nothing happened."
"I disagree," Winner bit off sharply. "What about when he was fourteen and you were an adult? Would you like to comment on that?"
"Did he tell you that? Wishful thinking on his part." Zechs smile turned reptilian.
"How is your clavicle? You seem unencumbered for someone with a fractured bone."
For an instant, Zechs allowed surprise to shine through his cool composure. All the videos switched to the segment showing Duo hauling Trowa away with Zechs in hot pursuit, his tripping over a water bottle, slipping in the water, and falling. Still, he got to his feet and charged after the two young men, arms in motion.
"Don't bother answering that," Quatre told him. "For a broken collarbone—that was what you claimed Duo broke, correct? You were going to sue him? For an injury like that, you appear to move very well. I understand it's very painful and swells. You'd be in a sling, at least. And I know you may heal fast, but so fast that you wouldn't be bandaged now is impossible." He held up a hand to fend off any comments. "Besides, I saw the x-rays, the actual ones, not the faked ones your lawyer planned to use. How's that, you ask? Well, my lawyer knows your lawyer and owed me..." Quatre's smile was deadly sweet.
"What do you want?"
"What I want, I can't have, which is Trowa's life back, so I think an eye for an eye…your life for his."
This time Quatre's expression looked a little wild; his eyes stormy blue; his hair became unruly as he dragged his fingers through the bangs; rationality was replaced with unpredictability.
Zechs frowned, uncomfortable as hell.
"Which leads me to this." Quatre opened a locker, painted to look like a sandstone rock sculpture, and selected two swords.
Zechs gasped, truly surprised. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not. "Quatre kept one sword and set the other on his desk. "But I'll give you a chance to defend yourself with honor."
"You are insane, Winner!"
Merquise scowled down at him. He tried to sound composed, but his earlier feeling of uncertainty had now transformed into pure fear. He hadn't wielded a sword in years. His daily workouts encompassed yoga and "serenity now" mantras to break his alcohol and cocaine dependencies. He hardly remembered the last time he had swung a blade, but his muscle memory was more or less intact and the well-balanced weight felt good in his grip.
"You took advantage of an underage boy and an impaired man." Quatre watched the other man's practice swing and stood back another foot. Zechs' reach was considerable.
"I was simply trying to shake up the models. A little harmless interference to give Khushrenada an edge. I'd get the shots I wanted, but possibly the two inexperienced models would be put off- quit- and the bet would be lost, for Chang."
Quatre was not listening, and continued on aggressively. "Face me! This is how you resolved your differences in the past, wasn't it?"
There was a clash of metal upon metal and Zechs countered Winner's attack. The contact jolted his entire arm, shoulder, and then, without warning, a crack in the mental block and memories trickled upon his consciousness. Dear God! Who was he?! The Lightening Count?! WHO?
Zechs swung wide and stepped around, keeping the desk between them. "Stop this nonsense, Winner, and let's talk!" he pleaded.
(o)
"Grab the limo keys, Chang!" Trowa shouted as they tore out of the lobby and headed for the garage.
Surprisingly, Wufei did as he was ordered. Unfortunately, he did not find the keys where he thought he'd last stowed them. He raked his brain, tying to uncover the actual place he'd left the keys. He had very little use for them, rarely driving the limo, so he shouldn't have moved them. Had I loaned them out? I don't recall doing that. He walked through his activities the last few days and found no recollection of using or moving those keys.
"Hey! What's the hold up?" Trowa asked.
Duo was walking up behind him, obviously full of nervous energy in spite of running down and back up the stairs from the garage to Wufei's office. "Let's go! They're all getting a huge head start!"
"I can't find the spare keys. I've looked, searched on the floor, around where they should be…" Wufei sounded frustrated.
"Where should they be?" Trowa asked.
"My desk drawer…" Wufei moved quickly to intercept Trowa. "…but I've looked! Stay out of there!"
Trowa had the drawer completely pulled out and then dumped the contents onto the floor. No keys. Before Wufei could stop him, he had the drawer below that one slid open. And there was the key ring with two keys at the very back of the drawer.
"Looks like it got pushed out and fell down the back," Trowa said after retrieving the errant ring and dangling it from a finger.
"Damn thing," Wufei snarled and took the keys.
Trowa laughed and followed Duo, tearing out the door and down the stairs. Wufei grabbed a coat and took the elevator, joining Trowa and Duo in time to see them boarding the Long's limousine.
"I'll drive," Wufei demanded. "I pay the insurance bills."
Trowa scooted into the passenger seat and Duo climbed into the back. "Duo's the best driver, you know that."
"Not with this tank," Wufei growled, edging it slowly onto the icy street before gunning it on the straight away, slamming his passengers into their seats at about 1G force.
"Fuck!" Trowa gasped. "You don't even know where to go!"
"Hope no one's on the road, 'cause here comes death on wheels," Duo muttered. He messaged Heero for his destination, ending with an angry face :
"This vehicle has a specifically designed machine drive system so that it excels in close maneuvers and has high agility," Wufei told them. "And, Barton, I have a good idea where they've all gone."
"Sounds familiar…like I heard you describe your fighter jet the same way," Duo said, grimacing as the sharp turn rammed him against the side of the car. "Winner's downtown office—that's where 'Ro is."
Then Chang took the next corner in a controlled spin out before straightening and rocketing down the next street towards the Winner building. "Where I was going…"
(o)
In a desperate move, Heero skidded Duo's old clunker to a stop, and then it continued to slip and glide until it rammed into Zechs' shiny blue Maserati, disabling the latter's driver's side door.
"Hn… Mission accomplished," he said with a triumphant grunt.
(o)
Zechs paused after the next the skirmish to catch his breath and distract Quatre long enough to make his escape. "You always seemed stable before," Zechs told his opponent.
"I think it was when I witnessed my father's death that I became genuinely self-aware. My pacifist father evacuated our colony, sacrificing himself to destroy it before OZ could take advantage of it. And I watched it happen." Quatre's eyes clouded over briefly.
"OZ? What do you mean?" Zechs asked, utterly muddle-headed by partial memories and gaping holes that didn't allow for understanding what Winner was telling him.
The door flung open and there stood Quatre's assistant, Dorothy Catalonia. "Ahhhh!" she screamed.
Taking advantage of the confusion that followed Dorothy's interruption, the former OZ ace dropped his sword and fled the battle. Dorothy picked up his sword, effectively giving Zechs time to get away.
"Mr. Winner! Why are you doing this?" she cried out, questioning his motives for fighting. "You know you can't fight duels these days, don't you?"
Stunned by her actions, Quatre dropped the tip of his sword. "Dorothy? How did you get…? What are you doing here-?"
But she had misread his move and she was now in motion, tripping over the edge of the rug, lunging at him, unable to stop before stabbing Quatre through the side. "No!"
(o)
"I can't believe he crashed my car!" Duo moaned, teeth chattering from the cold.
"It adds to its character," Trowa said.
"Yeah, now it matches me better… a little used by 'Ro." Duo sighed. "At least he took out a really expensive car, hopefully Merquise's."
"You hope? You know he'd recognize it," Trowa surmised.
"Stop jabbering! We should find them!" Wufei chastised the pair.
Trowa and Duo ran into the lobby. Wufei trailed them until a scene caught his attention, which was being played out outside. First, Zechs appeared, trailed closely by Heero running out from the back of the building, and now the two in a scuffle. He had to assist Heero, but he couldn't leave Trowa and Duo to flounder. He ran to the doorway.
Meanwhile Duo and Trowa had never been to the Winner building and didn't know where the office was and there was no helpful person or security visible.
"Which way?" Duo cried out.
"Is there a directory?" Trowa asked.
"Twelfth floor, right to Winner's office!" Wufei shouted from the open door, before turning back out the exit.
"Gothcha!' Duo said, letting Trowa pound the elevator button. "Where are you-?" he started to ask, but Wufei was gone.
"Maybe the stairs would be faster," Duo wondered.
"12 floors? Maybe faster for me, who is in better shape," Trowa said smugly.
"I lift car engines around!"
"Do you? Or do you utilize equipment to do that and you just punch buttons?" Trowa teased.
"Hardy, har, har. Being a clown hasn't made you funnier."
Bing!
They tore out of the elevator and looked in every direction for the "right" turn.
"Ahhhh!" came a woman's cry.
Trowa led the dash to the offices, following the wailing. "Not a good sign."
He honed in on the noise and found them. His throat tightened so he could hardly breathe. He slid to the floor, examining Quatre's eyes "glazed", checking his pulse "weak".
Duo stood staring at the mess, the two swords, the blood, his friend sobbing. Trowa never cried and yet, there he was, tears dripping onto his lover's face. Duo yanked his cellphone from an inner pocket and punched the emergency number.
Dorothy bawled loudly while pressing down on Quatre's side, but blood continued to spread across his shirt. Trowa wiped his face with the back of his hand, ripped off his designer cashmere sweater, disabled Dorothy, and proceeded to take over, staunching the wound with his sweater and applying more pressure.
"Don't move, Quatre," he begged. "Don't t-try to talk."
Duo was talking to an emergency dispatcher. Dorothy stood crying, hands bloody. "Looks like a knife wound. A deep one. Yeah, side, could be his stomach. I don't know there's a lotta blood. Yeah, downtown Winner building-"
"I didn't do it! He should have blocked my thrust! It wasn't on purpose! It was an accident!" Dorothy shrieked.
"Shut the fuck up!" Duo yelled.
Rashid nearly took the door off its hinges as he barreled into the room. "Master Quatre!"
"EM's are on their way, maybe, if they can get through," Duo told the big man. Without too much trouble he tied Dorothy's hands behind her back with his scarf.
"I will do this." Rashid practically carried both Quatre and Trowa down the stairs and out to the Humvee.
"You can't just leave me here!" Dorothy demanded. "I need my purse!" she screamed. "And my coat!"
"What you need is to have your mouth taped shut," Duo grumbled. He hung her purse around her neck and threw her coat over her shoulders. "Don't shake it off."
Duo followed behind, herding the troubled Dorothy along, and called the EM number again. "Listen we are bringing in the stabbing victim ourselves. Just meet us at the… okay… we'll go there. Thanks!"
Trowa hopped into the Humvee after Rashid, but stopped Duo. "Help Heero and Wufei go after Merquise. I can do this."
"Call me!" Duo shouted, glad not to have to go to hospital.
No good memories there. Not the newly erupting ones with wartime injuries, window escapes from the clutches of enemies, and other darker ones yet to be discovered; he was pretty sure there were some of those.
"Should you lock the doors?" Duo asked Quatre's distraught assistant.
"They usually lock automatically. There's a remote in my purse."
Duo sighed. "Is this it?" He pointed the magical electronic gadget in the right direction. Metal rods slid into place; the security light blinked red. "There. Sit here." He pushed her onto the steps covered with mostly crushed snow.
He wished he'd thought to grab a jacket.
A quick look around told him that his car and Zechs' were still in place, and still dented, so Heero, Zechs, Wufei, or any combination of the three, hadn't driven off that way. Where have they gone? After a thorough look around the building, down the street, and in the back alley, he came to the conclusion that he was the only living thing around.
"Wufei's limousine is gone. Why had I not noticed that first? Cripes, I'm going nuts here." Duo stalked back to his car and examined the damage closely. "Good job, 'Ro. Using my all-steel frame to crush the Maserati's steel and aluminum one. And if the frame's not ruined then replacing the door panels will be a bitch for the slimeball."
He climbed into his car and found the keys in the ignition. "Let's see if it starts up, shall we?" It did.
Figuring that the passenger door wouldn't open, he opened the door to the back seat, and shouted to Dorothy, "C'mon! Get in if you don't wanna freeze."
Dorothy climbed in, sprawling across the back seat. "What a h-heap!" Her teeth were chattering.
"Never gets stolen or broken into," Duo told her with a grin. "And it's all paid for."
"Does the heater work?"
"Let's find out. Hold on!"
TBC