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The Portrait

Part 14

"Right here against the wall," Milliardo directed as he and Duo Maxwell carried the large king-size mattress from his bedroom into the adjacent room which he was using more or less for storage at the moment. Meanwhile Wufei was following them with one of the nightstands.

The young man had asked his friends to come over and help him move the furniture from the rooms he and Treize would be working on later today. He felt kind of bad about having to ask the two of them for yet another favor. But considering that he never knew how Alexander might react, he was somewhat wary about letting strangers into the house. Duo and Wufei already knew about the ghost and they were the only people, besides Milliardo himself, he seemed comfortable enough around to actually make his presence known.

They propped the mattress upright against the wall and used the heavy nightstand as a buffer to prevent it from sliding down or tumbling over. Milliardo turned just in time to see a large floor lamp float across the corridor.

"Bring it in here, Alexander," he ordered as he gazed around quickly for a free, save spot. "Put it over there to the left."

In the hallway the lamp changed directions.

"The other left," Milliardo directed. "Yes right there, Alexander. Thank you." He walked back into the bedroom to take a look around, then turned toward his friends. "That's it. Thanks a bunch guys."

"It's nothing," Wufei made a dismissive gesture. "I'm sorry we can't stay and help you paint." Both he and Duo had to work today. During spring break, with more than half of the students gone, those who did stay behind usually pulled double shifts. It was a nice way to make some extra cash.

"That's alright," the older youth told him, as the three of them headed back downstairs. "You guys still have time for a beer?"

"Always," Duo grinned.

Milliardo stepped into the kitchen to grab a couple of bottles from the fridge then followed his friends into the living room. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to be doing this all by myself. Professor Khushrenada volunteered to help, he will be here in an hour."

"And not to mention you also have…" The braided young man gazed warily around the room. "Is he here right now?"

The blond shook his head. "No, he probably went back to the attic." For some reason it seemed like he was the only person who could actually feel the ghost presence.

Popping his beer open as he dropped into the dark leather couch Duo asked. "So, the professor really IS his great-grandson?

Milliardo nodded. He had told his friends everything he had found out that Saturday when Treize came to see him.

"That's so far out."

"Yeah," the older youth agreed.

"Hmm…" Wufei just stared at his beer-bottle, apparently lost in thought. Milliardo had learned a long time ago that the young man wasn't much of a talker. He usually only spoke when he really had something to say; the total opposite of Duo Maxwell. Sometimes he wondered how the two of them managed to become such close friends.

"I wonder what other 'secrets' there are. Have you found anything more in the diary?"

"No, unfortunately Octavian's entries have become less and less frequent and then stopped altogether. What he wrote was mostly about Alexander; about how much he missed him when he was at sea, and what they did when they were together."

"No indication of why they broke it off, and he suddenly got married?"

"No, on the contraire," Milliardo shook his head. "By the way, last week Alexander revealed another letter to me."

"What did it say?" Duo looked at him curiously.

"Read it yourself." The young man reached out, pulled a folded piece of paper from between the pages of a magazine sitting on the couch table, and handed it to his friend.

Duo unfolded the paper and cleared his throat.

"My Dearest Octavian..." he read.

"You can skip the beginning." Milliardo told him. "In fact skip all the way to 'I have wonderful news.'"

"I have wonderful news. This morning I received a telegraph from my lawyer. Apparently the Foresters accepted our offer. Now all that is left to do is to sign the papers and we will become the proud owners of their well-established horse farm.


I am so overjoyed; I had to tell you right away. Can you imagine anything more wonderful than spending the rest of our lives together raising horses and enjoying the finer things in life?


I know leaving home will be a big step for you, and I can imagine that you are more than just a little anxious. But I assure you, you that there is nothing to worry about. Remember, I'll be always there for you. Besides, in the south people are more carefree and far less 'nosy' and concerned with their neighbor's matters than in the cities up north. No one will bother us, or even care. As far as the neighbors will be concerned we will be two business partners working the farm together. And if you are worried about your father finding you, I also looked into the possibility of changing your family name. My lawyer assured me that it could be done without any problem for the right amount of money. As long as we can just keep things quiet for a little longer…"

"They were planning on running away together!" Duo concluded, as looked up from the letter.

"Do you think Octavian got cold feet?" Wufei asked.

Milliardo shrugged. "I can't say I could blame him. Sure, Alexander broke with his family too, but under very different circumstances. He was financially secure, had a carrier ahead of him and not to mention was several years older. Compared to him Octavian seemed still very childlike and immature."

"Not to mention what would happen if someone found out that they were more than just 'business partners'." Wufei pointed out. "I mean it is hard enough to fight prejudice these days. But back then, especially in the South…" he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.

"Still, I wonder what happened." The blond remarked thoughtfully. "Look at the date on that letter. It was written only 8 months before Octavian got married."

"Hmm…" Duo grunted, but he didn't seem have any idea either.

As Milliardo checked his watch he suddenly realized that it was already later than he had thought. "Guys, not to be rude or anything, but don't you have jobs to get to?"

"Are you trying to get rid of us?" the braided youth grinned.

"Got me there. Treize will be here any minute and…"

"Oh…" His friend's grin widened. "It's Treize now? Since when are the two of you on a first name basis? Could it be he is interested in more than just painting with you?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, Maxwell."

"Fine, be that way. I don't have to be at work before 11, so I think I'll just hang out here a little longer. Mind if I grab another beer?"

Milliardo glared at his friend, but before he could say anything Wufei was already on his feet and grabbed the other youth by his braided tail. "Don't worry; I'll make sure he leaves even if I have to drag him behind me by his braid all the way back to the dorms."

"Thanks I appreciated that."

"Ouch," Duo protested. "I can walk on my own. I was only kidding, you know."

Milliardo laughed quietly as he walked his friends to the front door and locked it behind them. He decided to go upstairs and check once more that everything was ready, but barely reached the first landing when the doorbell rang. He headed back downstairs only to find Duo and Wufei waiting for him at the door.

"He forgot his baseball cap." The Chinese youth explained with a gesture at his friend.

Milliardo glared at Duo, convinced that he had done it on purpose. "Let me get it."

He found said hat on the couch where his friend had been sitting.

"Anything else?" he asked as he handed it back to Duo.

"No, not that I can think of." The other youth gave him a cheerful smile. "See you soon."

"Not too soon, I hope." Milliardo grumbled quietly as he closed the door again and headed back upstairs. This time he made it almost all the way to the second floor when the sound of the doorbell once again called out to him.

Maxwell, I'm going to kill you! He hurried back downstairs, taking three steps at a time and ripped the door open. "What now?"

On the other side of the threshold Treize Khushrenada blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh Treize, I'm sorry. I thought…" he grinned sheepishly. "I had a couple friends over helping me move the furniture. One of them kept forgetting stuff."

"Mister Maxwell and Mister Chang?" Treize asked. "So it was them I saw getting into a truck just when I pulled up."

"Ah yes, you know them. They are both taking history, that's right. But please come in."

"Thank you." The older man nodded as he walked into the house.

Milliardo closed the door and as he turned he looked the professor up and down. Treize was wearing a light gray, Armani suit with a deep red silk shirt.

"You are not planning on painting in that, are you?"

"Oh no," Treize gestured at the small duffle bag in his hand. "I brought a change of old clothes. I just didn't want to wear them on the way."

"Ah, right," the blond smirked. "You did have to cross the street after parking on the other side. Someone could have seen you."

The older man gave Milliardo a firm look. "Are you mocking me?" he asked, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed the displeased sound in his voice. "For your information, I also had to take the elevator all the way from the top floor to the lobby and I had to cross the parking lot at the Hyatt, as well."

"Yes, of course that makes all the difference." Milliardo chuckled. "If you want to change, let me show you to the bathroom."

#

"Is this better?"

Milliardo looked up from the bucket of paint he had been stirring and nearly let out a whistle. Treize had stepped out of the small downstairs bathroom, wearing a pair of camouflage khakis – most likely left over from his time in the military, and a greenish brown T-shirt that was probably also was government issued. The shirt hugged his body, showing off the other man's remarkable physic; a perfectly chiseled chest and arms that were muscular without being bulky.

"Much better." Got to love a guy in uniform.

"I haven't worn these in a while. You think the shirt is too tight?"

"Too tight? No…" Milliardo somehow managed not to smirk. "It's perfect. But what about the shoes?" he gestured at the black loafers that most definitely did not come from an army depot.

"I meant to pack some tennis shoes but forgot to," the older man admitted with a sheepish smile.

"You want to borrow a pair of mine; looks like we have about the same size."

"No, that's okay."

"Are you sure? Those are Gucci, 800 bucks the pair, aren't they?"

"A grand actually, I custom ordered them. But it's not like I'm going to paint with my feet, right? I'll just be careful."

"Fine then, let's get started, shall we?"

"Did you decide what colors to use in which room?"

The younger man nodded as he gestured at the color-charts he had set up on the table. "I did. I had a friend help me with it."

"Is that so?" Treize took a look the papers and nodded. "Is he an interior designer or something?"

"No, but he knows this house very well."

"Well in any case, he has good taste it seems. So, where are we going to start?"

"The bedroom upstairs. It definitely needs a good priming. And while it dries we can start taking off the wallpaper in the study," Milliardo explained.

Treize gave another, acknowledging nod. "You want me to take one of those paint buckets upstairs?"

"Please."

As he followed the other man, carrying the second bucket, Milliardo smiled softly as he studied him from behind. "Are you working out?" he asked.

Treize turned his head. "Not as much as I used to when I was still in the service, but yes I try to keep myself in shape."

"It's working. Looking good."

"Well thank you. I'm glad you think so. Would you like to get all hot and sweaty with me tonight?"

Milliardo blinked. Come again?!

"The Hyatt has excellent working-out facilities, including a rock climbing wall, you see. I have a standing reservation for Thursday evenings."

"Rock climbing, huh? Sounds like fun."

"Unless of course…" Treize flashed a grin back at the younger man. "You'd prefer to get hot and sweaty in a way that doesn't involve dumbbells and rock walls."

Milliardo gave an amused huff. "Thanks, but I think I'll stick with rock walls… for now."

#

"That should do it." Treize put his paint roller down on the plastic tray he was holding and looked around.

"Done already?" Milliardo asked. He was priming the crown molding and baseboards while the other man had worked on the walls. "Are you sure you have never done this before?"

The professor laughed. "No, but moving a roller up and down the wall doesn't exactly require a degree in rocket science. Oh wait, I missed a spot there in the corner. Let me fix that. "

"This is only the primer, you know, it doesn't have to be perfect."

"If we do it, we might as well do it right," Treize insisted as he already pulled his ladder around to the corner in question.

"Well, I'm about done here too. Then we can start taking down that wallpaper next door."

"How exactly do you remove old wallpaper?" the tawny-haired man asked curiously.

"Soaking it with hot steam will loosen the old glue. Or at least that's what the guy at the store told me. I rented a steam machine for that." Milliardo put down his paintbrush and got off his knees. "I probably should fill it and turn it on now. It will take a while to heat up I can imagine."

"Alright, I'll finish up this little spot here and be with you in a minute."

Milliardo had read the instructions for the steamer earlier. It was really only a matter of filling it with water and a letting it heat. The biggest problem had been to find a long enough extension cord, but he had taken care of that too. He had just finished pouring the water into the small tank and was securing the screw top when he heard a splash from the bedroom and then Treize cursing quietly.

Alarmed the younger man ran into the room. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Hopping around on one foot, with the other dripping white paint all over the plastic floor covering, the professor grimaced. "I stepped into the paint tray," he admitted. "And I could have sworn I put it far enough to the side when I climbed onto the ladder. I guess I was wrong."

Or maybe you weren't. Alexander?! Please tell me this was not your handy-work. Milliardo had felt the ghost's presence on and off ever since Treize arrived, as though he was checking in on them ever so often. This is not funny, you know.

"Your shoes, on man, that's terrible."

"Oh, don't worry. Primer is water-based, isn't it? I'm sure, if I clean most of it off right now, they can be restored. I'll call my shoe store this afternoon."

"At least let me pay for that."

"Absolutely not!" Treize put up his hand to emphasize his statement. "However, I might have to take you up on your offer, and borrow a pair of shoes from you, after all."

"No problem. The bathroom is right down the hall if you want to clean up while I get them."

The older man nodded as he slipped off the paint-soaked loafer. "Thanks."

#

The master bathroom Milliardo had directed him to, had two sinks, but at the moment they were both filled with paint-cans, brushes and rollers. The bathtub-shower combination would have to do, Treize decided. Making sure that he faucet and not the shower was turned, he twisted the little chrome knops till the water was just right in temperature, then started to clean his shoe with a damp paper towel. As he had expected, the wet paint came off quite easily, although he couldn't be sure if the leather was going to be affected by the moisture.

As he was leaning over the tub to clean his hands and forearms the tawny-haired man heard a quiet squeaking sound, as though the door behind him was slowly being pushed open. Assuming that it was Milliardo, he continued to clean himself. He was just putting the soap back into its little ceramic dish when the shower above him turned on suddenly and unexpectedly. Startled Treize jumped back but not before being soaked to the bone.

A string of foul words that would have made any sailor blush left his lips. This is not my day.

"Milliardo? Milliardo, do you have a second?"

The younger man dashed into the bathroom only seconds later, staring at him in surprise. "What… what happened?"

"I took a shower."

"With your clothes on?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he asked, as tough of sarcasm in his voice, before letting out a sigh. "I don't know what happened. One moment I was washing my hands under the faucet and at the next the shower turned on by itself. You got a towel?"

"Oh, yes of course."

Milliardo turned to pull a couple of cream colored bath-towels from the small linen closet above the toilet. Alexander Khushrenada!! I told you already, this is not funny. Well, maybe a little, but that's not the point. I want you to stop it at once. Do you hear me? No more practical jokes or I swear I'll find a way to lock you in that attic. "I'm so sorry. I guess I'll have a plumber check it out. I could get you a sweat suit or something to wear, but maybe it would be better to call it a day and start fresh tomorrow."

"Are you sure? That will throw us behind schedule, won't it?"

"What schedule? I really don't have one. We have all the time we want, to finish this."

"Well in that case," Treize nodded in agreement. "Let's call it a day. We are still on for tonight, to go rock climbing, right?"

"Absolutely. I'm looking forward to it."

"Great. Let's work out and then have dinner together."

"Sounds like a deal." Milliardo smiled.

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Author's Note: Okay, so far it's Alexander 2, Treize 0, but who is counting. :)