Kandice: Here you go... chapter five of Frayed Edges.
Kassidy: No comments for this one. Enjoy!
__________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter Five
Here To Help?
"You what?" The blonde demanded shrilly, hands on hips. Her eyes glinted furiously at the man sitting in front of her on the end of the hotel bed.
"I'm staying in Sanq," Quatre replied.
"Quatre, you cannot be serious. What about the Smithsonian? What about the cases? What about ME?" She was very close to pacing in frustration. Quatre sighed. The woman was very childish in her need for attention.
"You'll be just fine, Dorothy. And if it is very very important, I can always come back for a night or two to help with suspects. As it is, I can do all my profile work right here."
"Is it that case 'Lena asked you about? Is that the reason for this?"
"Among other things. I can't leave. There is someone here who needs my help."
"Who? What do they need your help with? Damnit, Quatre. Talk to me."
"I can't, Dorothy," he sighed. "You know how Lucrezia was there for me when I needed her?"
"Ah..." Dorothy's gray eyes widened with understanding. "This was why you were gone so late last night?"
He nodded. "There are things I need to do. I am obligated. I can't just leave."
"You'll be staying where?" She raised an eyebrow, thinking she'd finally picked out a flaw.
Quatre smirked. "Having a millionaire for a father can have it's perks. Drop the name 'Winner' here and there and within six hours you have yourself a lease to a fully furnished penthouse apartment."
Dorothy rolled her eyes. The man didn't like to throw his name around, or his money. But boy, when he did.... no one could stand in his way. And she did know when to cave. "Have I ever told you how unfair it is that you got the looks, the brains, the brawn, and the money in the family?"
Quatre laughed. Dorothy was a distant cousin on his mother's side, coming from old money herself. Her grandfather still held the title of 'Duke' in Great Britain. Dorothy had almost every man in the country swooning after her, with her luxuriously long blond hair, sharp intellect, dry wit, and curvy body. And as far as money went, Dorothy herself easily had just as much 'family' money as he did, and probably more self-made money than he.
"Guess there's no talking you ought of this, neh?" She sighed, resigning herself.
"Not a chance, cousin dearest."
"Didn't think so. When you set your mind to something, nothing can drag you away."
"The Winner charm," he winked.
"More like the 'bulldog syndrome'," she grumbled with a smile. Quatre would be fine. She knew it.
Quatre could take care of himself.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"No shields?"
Quatre's eyes narrowed at this revelation from his new 'student'. "There has to be some way to stop it," he said, more to himself than Trowa.
"The only way is these," Trowa shrugged, holding up a hand, covered in a black driving glove.
Quatre shook his head. "There has to be some other way. My shields rely solely on my ability. Have you tried not seeing things?"
Trowa sent a scathing glare across the table. "Do you think I'm stupid? Of course I've tried. For all the good it's done. There's no way to stop it. And I can't tell anything from the visions. It's blurry and all it does is give me a killer migraine."
"There must be some type of shield there, else why can can I not sense you?"
"Maybe my ability is a shield in and of itself, eh? Ever think of that? Maybe you just can't sense me because I'm psychic or whatever you call it."
"No," Quatre said, not grasping the heat or annoyance in that voice. "I can sense Lu just fine, and she's a pretty strong clairvoyant. There must be something else here."
Trowa sighed, anger bleeding away to be replaced with pure annoyance.
"I thought you were here to help me? This" he waved a hand, "is not helping. I'm very close to throwing you out of my house and forgetting that this all ever happened."
"That certainly won't help," Quatre murmured. Trowa couldn't help but smile at that.
"Alright, then," he said. "Talking is getting us nowhere. We need to do something."
"If only I knew what you were thinking," Quatre said. "If only I knew how you felt, how your ability worked.... oh, there's so much I need to know."
Trowa sat silent for a moment, the tugged at the glove on his left hand, removing it. "Here," he reached out and before Quatre could process what he was doing, before Trowa could second guess himself, Trowa gripped Quatre's wrist.
Both young men felt that curious little tingle, but nothing more. For Trowa, there was simply nothing. But Quatre discovered something.
"I was right," he breathed. "This is odd. I think... it's alot like mine. Your ability, that is." Trowa went to remove his hand, but Quatre's clamped over it, Aqua eyes meeting Emerald. "No. Wait. It's like your pulling at me. You naturally attract this," he said. "Like I naturally attract emotions. Magnetism, almost. But you don't feel anything from me?"
"No," was the reply. "Nothing at all." Trowa most certainly wasn't going to mention the way his mind was reacting to the contact. And he most definitely wasn't going to mention his more physical reactions. Quatre was the first friend he'd ever had... and he wasn't going to scare him off so soon after they first met.
"Just... wait a moment. I'm going to lower my sheilds."
Trowa tensed, started to jerk away with the fear those words inspired. Quatre shifted so that both of his hands held onto Trowa's, keeping the contact. "Not all the way," he chided. "Just a bit. Like peeling away layers. The moment you feel anything, I need you to tell me, alright?"
Trowa nodded tensely.
"Good. Here we go..."
Trowa waited. Nothing. Another moment then still nothing, but then, he felt it. Unlike usual, when things hit him all at once like a freight train, one jumbled up mess, it was different. This was like looking a book or library, only through a thick, fogged up window. He could see something, but it was vague and blurry. And not a mess, but more organized. More concrete, yet intangible than anything he'd ever sensed before. He didn't say anything, but tried to see harder through that mirror.
"Ow," Quatre breathed, but the window cleared up just a little more. He could here the voices, see just a bit better, but it was still distant and un-clear. It was like a library. He could see different things, like he normally did, but it wasn't all flying at him at once. He chose a different book, a different window and looked harder.
"Ow," Quatre said, a little louder. "That hurts."
"Sorry," Trowa said. "It's like looking through a prism or something. This is so not what I'm used to. I can see so many things, but it's all unclear."
Quatre thought about this, then dropped his shields a little more. With every layer he dropped, the emotions of the other man became clearer. They were still clouded, but every now and again, he could feel them better.
Trowa concentrated on the view in front of him. An air of tension surrounded it, thoughts of remorse and sadness. He looked on.
"Your sister," he said suddenly. "You still regret her death."
This time, it was Quatre who jerked back, eyes wide with disbelief. Trowa stared a him, remembering the memory he'd seen. It was clearer than the rest, which made him guess it was stronger, more important somehow.
"Iria," Quatre sobbed in a whisper. "I'm sorry. I... I can't do this. I've got to go."
TBC....
__________________________________________________________________________________
Kassidy: Maybe the next update won't be so slow getting out. School is driving us bonkers right now.
Kandice: Yeah. I have like three reports due, and about five exams coming up soon. Not to mention current homework and stuff. I hate school- but not even a whole month left! Yay! And I'll be done with high school forever!!!!
Kassidy: Thank goodness- but don't forget that university starts in the spring. And we'll both be going to different schools, then.
Kandice: Don't remind me. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter... and please review! We love reviews!