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The Portrait

Part 11

"Professor?!"

His head snapped up in surprise, or perhaps shock would be a better word. "Mil…Milliardo, what are you doing here?"

"I work here," the blond gave him a little smirk. "I believe you were asking for company."

"Yes…but…"

One of Milliardo's eyebrows shot up in a mixture of amusement and sarcasm. "You are not going to tell me that you are not gay and walked in here only by accident, thinking it is a straight bar, do you?"

Treize felt a slight heat rising into his cheeks. In less than a minute the younger man had managed to make him speechless and blush, something no one else had accomplished in a very long time. Perhaps because of the military's 'don't ask don't tell' policy, he had always been very discreet about his sexual preferences, which was also the reason why he was visiting this particular bar, half way across town from campus. And to think that that the first person to find out was one of his own students… somehow he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

"No, I won't insult your intelligence by trying to tell you that."

Dressed in a pair of black trousers and a white tuxedo jacket over a black shirt; his long silvery tresses hanging loose over his shoulders, Milliardo looked stylish and elegant, but not overdressed.

A soft smile tugged on his lips as the young man looked down at his teacher. "May I sit down?" he finally asked.

"Oh... yes, of course." Treize bolted upright, and quickly pulled out a chair for Milliardo.

The younger man nodded as he slipped into the seat. "Thank you."

As he settled down again in his own chair, the professor studied the blond for a few moments silently. How was he going to put this without sounding improper? "So..." he finally asked, "You just work here?"

Milliardo gave a soft laugh. "Well, let's say I'm not only the president of the hair club but also a member as well, if that's what you are trying to ask."*

Treize chuckled, as the ice finally began to break. "That's one way to put it, I suppose."

"You have nothing to worry about, though. Your secret will be safe with me, Professor, and I'd appreciate if you could promise me the same. I'd prefer for people not to find out where I work."

"That's fair enough," the older man nodded, "and quite understandable. But I think you really ought to drop the 'Professor' and try to think of me not as your teacher, tonight."

"I'll do my best," the blond promised.

Now that he was finally starting to relax Treize was also returning to being his usual, charming self. "Because as your teacher," he added a sparkle of mirth in his blue eyes. "I'd have to ask you. What are you doing working late at night anyway when you have classes in the morning?"

Milliardo laughed, it was a deep and bubbling sound. "I usually don't." he explained. "And I wasn't supposed to work tonight either. In fact I was sitting in the back room studying…History… until I heard your voice."

"Right!" Treize replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"You don't believe me? That hurts," the younger man jested.

"But why wouldn't I? Doesn't everybody study in the backroom of a bar dressed up like this?" the professor replied with a sweeping gesture at his outfit.

"I can show you my notebooks, if you wish. Or you can test me." Milliardo felt like his honor was being questioned and he could not let that stand. "I was brushing up on the French revolution. Ask me any question."

"Sorry but this is my time off. I don't like to take my work home… or any place else for that matter." Treize laughed. "But you can always come and see me after class for some tutoring. And now, no more talk about school, please."

"Fine then. But I WAS studying."

The young man who had brought Treize the wine menu earlier returned, and this time he was carrying two glasses of bubbling champagne.

As he placed them onto the table, the professor raised one eyebrow. "I don't recall ordering anything yet."

"Courtesy of the club manager," the young man explained with a hint of a smirk. "Reserved for very special guests only, he asked me to mention."

"I see, well in that case…" Treize reached for his glass, turned his head toward the man sitting at the far side of the bar and gave him an appreciative nod.

As the waiter retreaded the professor turned back toward Milliardo. "Well, let's drink to an enjoyable evening, shall we?"

The champagne was smooth, with just the right amount of bubbles and a tiny bit on the dry side; definitely not a cheap 20 dollar, or even 50 dollar bottle. As he put down his glass Treize noticed that the liquid in his companion's flute differed ever so slightly from his own. He picked up the glass, brought his to his nose and looked at the younger man questioningly. "Sparkling apple cider?"

"With a touch of club soda to make it lighter," Milliardo confirmed. "I'm surprised you noticed. Paolo is quite adept in matching the colors."

"You don't drink?" The professor seemed somewhat surprised. "You are of age, are you not?"

The blond gave another laugh. "Yes, I am. You have nothing to worry about. And no, I don't drink, not if I have classes the next morning. There is nothing worse than sitting through a lecture with a hangover."

"I suppose though," Treize chuckled.

As the evening went on the two men talked, keeping their conversation light and clear of topics such as school.

The professor ordered a bottle of expensive red wine, even though he only drank a couple of glasses, while Milliardo decided to stick with his sparkling cider, even after the other man assured him that a good glass of wine would not make him drunk or hung over in the morning. Treize was charming and witty as always, making him very pleasant to be around. The blond couldn't help but wonder once again if his Great Grandfather had felt the same way when he was with Alexander.

The older man did most of the talking while Milliardo listened, something he was quite good in he had been told. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he was one of the more popular hosts here at the Dragonfly, and it was most defiantly the reason why Tony had approached and asked to hire him. Even back when he came to the club as a guest, other guys would invite him to a drink and start pouring their heart out to him. The Dragonfly was no bordello and people didn't come here for sex. Well, some probably did, and some probably also got what they wanted after the club closed, but the majority came to be with someone who made them feel special for a night. A good host knew how to do just that, in a non-sexual kind of way.

Milliardo learned that Treize was an only child, coming from a long line of high ranking officers. His grandfather was a Lieutenant Colonel, and his father made it all the way to Major General. Treize might have topped both of them if not for a combat injury that forced him to resign from active duty and take on a teaching position. His mother was still alive, hoping that he would get married and give her a bunch of grandchildren some day. She had been trying for years to arrange 'chance meetings' between him and 'suitable' young ladies from her social scene, but so far he had always managed to dodge the bullet.

A soft, deep laugh bubbled in Milliardo's throat. "And I thought my mother was too involved in my personal life. But at least she isn't trying to marry me off."

"Yet!" the other man replied. "That, my dear Milliardo, might be the operative word."

"I surely hope not," he chuckled. There was a brief moment of silence before he asked. "Do you have any regrets about leaving the military and coming to Marymount? From the way you speak, your family and their traditions seem to be very important to you?"

"Regrets?!" Treize echoed. "No, not a single one. It wasn't a decision I made on a whim. Besides, I believe that everything in life happens for a reason. So, there should also be a reason for me moving to this town. Perhaps it was… so that I could meet you!" The younger man didn't pull away when he slowly reached out and placed his hand gently on top of Milliardo's.

Milliardo looked up, straight into the professor's face, and as their eyes was he felt mesmerized by the passion in those piercing blue eyes. He felt like drowning in a lake of blue, and he didn't even care.

#

Treize had stayed until two o'clock in the morning when the Dragonfly closed. Before taking his leave he left a tip large enough to ensure that the staff would most defiantly remember him at his next visit. He had tipped Milliardo, who almost felt awkward about taking the money, separately, and thanked him for a most wonderful evening.

His jacket thrown over his shoulder and his tie loosened, the young man stifled a yawn as he waved at the Manager and Paolo the barkeeper, who were still closing up the place. "I'm out of here."

"Thank again Milliardo," Tony nodded at him. "So, I'll take you off the schedule for Friday night then."

"Thanks. See you guys later." As he walked outside the young man stopped a brief moment to breathe the cool, clear night air, before starting to cross the nearly empty, well-lit parking lot.

"Milliardo?!"

He held his step, turning his head, a soft smirk on his lips. "Am I being stalked?"

"I don't think I have ever been accused of stalking before," Treize, standing next to his black Mercedes, replied in the same lighthearted tone of voice. "I didn't see your car in the parking lot so I thought I'd offer you a ride home."

"Thanks, but I already have a ride. The club provides taxis for us, you see." The younger man gestured toward a Yellow Cab waiting by the side of the road.

"That's very thoughtful of the management." The professor seemed impressed.

"Yeah," Milliardo nodded. "Not everyone likes Sparkling Cider, and paying a few cab fares is probably a lot better than having to deal with the trouble that comes from having one of your hosts arrested for DUV."

"Very true," Treize agreed, and then with a theatrical sigh he added. "Too bad for me though. I was looking forward to spending a little more time with you."

Man, are you smooth. If that's a trait that runs in the family I can understand why Octavian fell head over heels for your…great great uncle. The younger man laughed. "Well, I guess I could send the taxi away."

#

A good thirty minutes or so later the professor dropped Milliardo off just outside his house.

"Thanks again," the young man said as he climbed out of the car.

"No, thank you. I had a wonderful time tonight," Treize replied.

"So did I." Milliardo hesitated for just one second or two, then looked straight at the other man as he asked. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

For a moment it looked like Treize was going to agree, but then the older man shook his heads. "As much as I'd love to accept that offer, I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check on it. It's late, and I think we both should get some sleep. It would be bad if you were to fall asleep in class tomorrow morning, but it would be even worse if it'd happen to me."

"Yeah." Milliardo grinned. "I suppose so. Good night then, I'll see you tomorrow in school… or rather today."

"Good night, Milliardo."

The young walked up the three steps to his front door and unlocked it, but then waited and watched as Treize started his car and the black Mercedes disappeared around the next corner. I'm kind of glad he declined, he thought as he finally stepped through the door. Things might not have ended with just a cup of coffee tonight, and tomorrow, who know, we might have both regretted it.

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"Are these the last boxes?"

"Yes, that should be it," Milliardo nodded as he looked around. "Everything that's left came with the apartment and will stay."

He had hired the company Duo was working at for his move to ensure that his friend got a little 'referral' bonus for the job. It wasn't that he had a lot of furniture to begin with. The apartment was small and came with most the essentials. His electronics, computer system and the large fold-out couch he used to sleep on was probably the biggest purchases he had made since moving here. But of course there were plenty of little personal things that had to be packed up. Luckily Relena volunteered to help him with that; otherwise he might be still at it.

True, he could have waited a week till spring break when he had more time, instead of moving on a two day notice. But somehow he just didn't have the patience. Once his father gave his 'okay', and very much to Milliardo's surprise, even put the house in his name, he could not wait to get moving.

"I heard you are going to have a 'house warming party'?!" Duo asked.

"Yes, right after spring break. Nothing too big though, just a few of my friends; that includes you and Wufei of course."

"Are you sure that's a good idea; considering how 'he' reacted to just one stranger showing up at your door. It's not like you can chain him up in the backroom or so till the guest are gone."

Milliardo had told his friends about the little 'mishap' with the building inspector.

"That's why I'm planning to have the party in the backyard. I'll make sure we'll spend as much time as possible outside the house, and the attic will be most definitely off limits to anyone."

Duo swung his long braid over the shoulder and crooked his head trying to read the words that were plastered all over the moving boxes in large bold letters. Fragile! Dishes!

The young man huffed in amusement. "More dishes? What the heck? What were you doing; run an illegal china shop out of here?"

When he picked up one of the boxes however he frowned. From what he could tell, and he had plenty of experience, it was way too light to hold anything but clothes or towels. His frown turned into a scowl as it suddenly it hit him. "You just marked them all as dishes, didn't you? So we would carry them more carefully. Well, for your information. We are professionals. We handle everything with care."

"Hey, don't look at me," Milliardo defended himself, "I didn't pack that stuff. If you have to bark at someone talk to Relena."

"Talk to me about what?" Just like on cue his sister walked in through the open front door, looking like Rosie the Riveter in one of those famous 'We can do it' posters. Only Rosie the Riveter probably never wore a pink bandana.

Duo just huffed and mumbled something about "women" as he shuffled past her out the door.

"What was that all about?"

"Beats me." Her brother shrugged. "But what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd clean the place up after you guys are done. And I'll do it for less than a cleaning crew would."

"I wasn't planning on hiring a cleaning crew."

"Then it's a good thing I came, isn't it?" She flashed him a wide smile.

"What do you need money for?" Milliardo asked firmly. "Did you get another parking ticket?"

"No, a speeding ticket," she admitted meekly. "I was barely doing 50… but apparently it was a 35mph zone. How was I supposed to know the guy in that beat up Toyota in front of me was an off duty cop." Relena gave her brother one of her most charming smiles, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. "You will help your little sister out, won't you?"

And sure Milliardo sighed in defeat. "How much is the ticket?"

"180."

"What? For that money I could hire two professional crews," he pointed out.

"Don't worry, I had 130 saved up for a new skirt I wanted to buy, so I really only need another 50."

"Fine! But for that I expect the place to look like you could eat off the floor," he finally agreed.

"I never got that one." Relena frowned slightly. "Why would anyone want to eat off the floor?"

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Author's Note: * Milliardo is using a famous line from an old commercial (I suppose unless you are at least in your mid twenties you won't remember the hair club commercial) to say that he is not only working in a gay club, but also is gay.