Apres La Guerre

by waterlilylf

Post War Fic, mostly Duo POV set seven years after the end of the War and absolutely oozing angst and sap and humour and confusiona and Duo-suffering...it's also a long 1x2 get-together fic. Finished, finally.

67. Reality Check

-1Reality Check:

And then the doorbell rang.

'I do not believe this! We're in the middle of the freaking desert and we still can't have a minute's peace. Who the hell is that?'

'Probably Rashid, checking up on how we're doing.'

'Then he can shag off,' I muttered, snuggling back down. 'If we don't answer, maybe he'll think we've gone out and he'll call back later.'

'Or just let himself in?' Heero grinned wickedly.

'Good point. Urk. He'd probably shoot us both for defiling the purity of Master Quatre's bathtub.' Although…it probably wasn't all that pure to begin with. Quat had always had a thing about bubble baths. Shared bubble baths.

'I'll go down, love.' He kissed me. 'Remember what I said about mixing business with pleasure? Just give me a minute to take care of the business part.'

''Kay,' I muttered. 'But get your ass back up here for the pleasure part pronto.'

'You won't even have time to notice I'm gone,' he assured me, pulling on his jeans.

'Heero?' I called. 'Coffee might be nice, while you're downstairs anyway.'

'Yes sir,' he threw me a crisp salute. 'What did your last slave die of? Exhaustion?'

'Yep,' I smiled up at him. 'He was really happy, though.'

The bath wasn't quite so much fun after Heero left. All that space and no one to share it with left a void, just begging to be filled by everything in my life that had been put on hold. All those issues and problems just dangling in the breeze and waiting to be taken care of.

Kids. Orchids. Trowa. Quatre. Work. Mischa.

The flowers were probably the easiest; I couldn't really expect Sally to drive out to our place a couple of times a week to look after my pet hobby, but there was a nursery near us that offered a plant-sitting service. I'd used them a few times before when we were all away, so that would be a simple enough matter to sort out.

Trowa. To be honest, there wasn't a huge amount I could do for him at the moment. I'd probably yell at him for taking off without me, the next time we met, but I could sort of see why he'd done it. Idiot. Like I needed another over-protective friend. Between him, Wufei and Heero, I'd soon end up not being able to go to the bathroom without someone to check for possible hazards first.

The same pretty much went for Quatre.

The kids were just a bit trickier. I'd had all these visions of finding long-lost grandparents or something, but real life is never that easy. Even if there were relations somewhere out there, they might well refuse to take the responsibility for three children, who hadn't had particularly easy lives. Same went for adopting and fostering - people want babies or cute toddlers. Not older kids who've been living a somewhat unsavoury life.

OK. I tucked that particular problem away for the time being. The kids were happy and safe and that would have to do for now.

Work; well, my boss knew that my life was - complicated right now, but I'd still promised to look at some design specs for a new client. I'd have to find time for that. Maybe I could just clone myself?

Mischa. Hmmm. I was going to have to call him. I knew he had vague hopes that we'd get back together at some point; we were still friendly and he knew I hadn't been with anyone serious since we'd broken up.

OK. Not exactly the case any more. Mischa went on to my mental 'Duo to do' list.

I'd have to get in touch with Lucca as well to check he didn't mind being lumbered with a dog for a little longer. Heero seemed to take him for granted, but a good-looking, sociable guy like Lucca had to have a pretty hectic social life, and dog-sitting was presumably playing havoc with all of that.

After twenty minutes, I was starting to wonder if everything was OK downstairs. Maybe Rashid had read some lurid account of Quatre's sex life and had started to hyperventilate? Maybe Heero had had to give him the kiss of life or something? Ick. Not something I wanted to think about.

Especially not naked in a tub meant for two. That thought gave me just enough incentive to get out and dried off. We could always refill it later, and climb back in, maybe with a nice bottle of wine and some snacks. Properly equipped, we could spend most of the day lazing around upstairs.

Until then, I'd have to laze around by myself. I really didn't feel like going downstairs to be disapproved of by Rashid.

I rummaged through my closet and mentally reshuffled a shopping expedition to the top of my list. At this rate, I was going to have to compile a 'TO DO' spreadsheet, neatly cross-referenced by priority and preference, and in alphabetical order. Heero would just love that; he's always been addicted to making long lists and ticking off each item as he accomplishes it. I think it gives him sort of sense of achievement.

Most of the things I'd left in my closet were fine for hanging out in the desert, but not exactly suitable for staying in an embassy. Particularly if I ever wanted to bluff my way into Preventer HQ again. Even with their apparently lax security standards, they probably wouldn't admit a guy in torn jeans and a t-shirt with a somewhat off-colour slogan.

Heero's idea of shopping, followed by dinner, sounded pretty amazing. We'd never really done that sort of thing when we'd been together. We'd had rows and sex and heart to heart conversations, but we'd never really done the simple domestic stuff. Going to the supermarket and quibbling over which brand of cereal or washing detergent to buy, or squabbling over whose turn it was to take out the trash or empty the dishwasher.

We'd never gone to a movie together. Heero couldn't see the point of watching a film in a theatre full of noisy, possibly hostile, strangers, when he could just as easily download it on to his laptop to watch at home. Still, maybe someone had corrupted him to the joys of giant screens and popcorn.

A shopping trip together would be fun. We could probably pick up some new things for the kids too. Not that I really had any idea what sort of things they'd like.

That got me thinking about college funds and having to replace my beautiful car with a sensible family sedan.

Scary stuff like that.

Shit, no way was I ready for responsible parenthood. I'd never even had a pet. Half the time, I wasn't sure if I could even look after myself.

And Heero was obviously talented when it came to dog-training, but that wouldn't necessarily convert to being a good father. Although the girls obviously adored him, and Nat thought he was cool. That was a good start, wasn't it?

'Duo?' Heero's call interrupted my mental meanderings. Probably good timing. 'Can you come down, please?'

Oh, yay. It obviously wasn't enough for Rashid to interrupt my lovely, lazy morning; he had to summon me into his exalted presence for some reason. Shit; he'd probably read all kinds of racy stuff Quat had written in Arabic and was blaming me for it. Except the guy sitting at the kitchen table, and looking supremely uncomfortable, wasn't Rashid.

Sarab was one of the younger Maguanacs; one the few who'd been happy to accept Quatre's relationship with Trowa. As a result, he'd worked as Trowa's second-in-command, often filling in as Quat's bodyguard to relieve Tro, and I'd got to know him pretty well.

I'd sometimes wondered if he was actually gay himself, although he'd got married a couple of years previously, and he seemed happy enough.

'Hey, Sarab! How's Samira? I hear you guys are going to be parents soon?'

He nodded, not looking too happy about it. Uh oh. Looked like Samira was having the same sort of pregnancy as Hilde.

Urk. One more thing for the spreadsheet that was rapidly turning into its own database. Call Hilde.

'So…' I glanced from Sarab to Heero, wondering what this was all about. Heero had on his 'I don't do expressions' expression, and Sarab was looking hunted. 'It's good to see you again, Sarab. Is there something we can help you with?'

'It's about Master Quatre. I'm sorry, but I only realised this morning that you were here. I've been away on one of the outlying satellites for a couple of days, and Rashid just told me what was going on.' He looked down at the table top. 'He says you've discovered that someone was here, before Master Quatre disappeared.'

'Yeah, though it looks like it was some sort of a ghost.'

He shook his head. 'No. It was me.'

Heero put one hand on my arm, a little signal to let him keep talking.

Sarab nodded. 'Master Quatre called me, just over a week ago, and asked me to collect a package for him. He gave me the security codes to get in, and told me how I could change the system so it looked like no one was ever here. My sister works at the estate house, so people are used to me visiting; no one paid any attention when I just turned up and said I'd come to see Kara.'

Perfect cover. Trust Quatre to think of everything.

'Master Quatre made me swear on my honour that I would never tell anyone,' he said miserably. Probably expected Allah to smite him for breaking his oath, the poor guy.

'So why are you telling us this?' Heero demanded, and I glared at him. Since he and Quatre had had their big fight, Heero hadn't exactly been flavour of the month with the Maguanacs. Granted, he and Rashid had seemed friendly enough yesterday, but Sarab was obviously taking the view that Master Quatre's enemies were his enemies.

'He's only trying to help,' I put in, smiling at poor Sarab, who gave me a wobbly, watered-down version in return. I had to feel sorry for the guy; he'd probably been sitting there being blasted by death glares while he insisted he had to talk to me, and Heero insisted on knowing what it was all about. 'Heero, d'you think you could maybe make some coffee or something? I'd love a drink.'

That was subtle, wasn't it? Even if it meant Heero only moved a few steps away to the stove, at least the distance had to dilute the homicidal power of the Yuy death glare. I didn't know what was up with that anyway. Sarab was one of the good guys, or maybe Heero was just antsy that our nice bath had been interrupted. I could sort of identify with that.

'I didn't know what to do,' Sarab whispered when Heero moved over to the sink and started to fill the kettle. 'I have been praying and meditating for divine guidance and when I heard you were here, Master Duo, I saw it as a sign. You are Master Quatre's closest friend. You will know what to do.'

OK, that was the first time anyone had ever referred to me as a sign of divine guidance. Let alone one who would know what to do.

'Where is this package? Do you know?' It had to be some sort of definite clue. A mysterious item that he'd been sent to collect in secret.

'I gave it to Master Quatre, naturally. I have no idea what he did with it.' He sighed. 'I think he meant to destroy it.'

Great. Another dead end.

'Why would you think that?' Heero demanded, sharp as a whip, turning to face us with a tea canister in one hand. Sheesh, if this was an example of Preventer interrogation techniques, they really needed to adopt a more laid back approach. A light sautéing as opposed to a hot grilling. Oh dear, I was really going to have to eat something substantial soon….. Those little pastries had been delicious, but not terribly filling. Sarab wasn't even a suspect or anything; he was a friend who was trying to help.

'He told me so,' Sarab told me simply, opting to ignore my annoyingly persistent boyfriend. 'He said the contents were no longer necessary and it was better just to forget it had ever existed.'

Ah. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up to attention. Hell, if this kept up, my braid would be vertical soon.

'I - ah - don't suppose you accidentally happened to see what was in it?' I'd thought that was nicely subtle, but he looked affronted all the same.

'Certainly not,' he said firmly. 'I had no need to, in any case. I knew exactly what it contained. Master Quatre needed someone to trust and I was close to him.'

'Oh? Really?' I asked, trying to sound all casual, and forcing myself not to meet Heero's eye.

'He kept a file on that bastard; all the things he did to him.'

I murmured something that sounded vaguely questioning. Aha! There was our long-awaited clue; a mysterious figure who'd been abusing Quatre. 'I - ah - don't suppose you know who it was?'

'Barton, of course.' Sarab sounded surprised by me asking. 'He'd been abusing Master Quatre for months, and he was too loyal to say anything.' He gave an odd little sniff. 'He never deserved to have someone like Master Quatre. A mercenary of no family, with no claim to honour. He was never fit to wipe my master's boots, let alone…'

'Well, Quatre's not exactly perfect either,' I snapped, cutting him off in mid rant. 'He's a stubborn, over-emotional twit, who thinks he knows everything. He was damn lucky to get a great guy like Trowa.'

'Here you are, Duo,' Heero interrupted in turn, sliding a mug of tea across the table to me, and shooting me a warning glance. OK, point taken. The best way to win confidences from Sarab probably wasn't to go around insulting Master Quatre.

'So, you knew about this ongoing abuse, Sarab?' Heero asked. 'That must have been terribly difficult for you, knowing what was happening and not being able to stop it. Did you ever think of telling anyone?'

Sarab shook his head. 'I only found out in the last month or so. Master Quatre didn't want anyone to know, but I….we went riding one morning and I happened to see a bruise. He made me give me his word, on my honour, never to tell anyone about it.'

'And you're prepared to break your word?' Heero put in.

Damn. I thought that might have stopped the flow of confidences, but Sarab had obviously got to the point where he was just relieved to let it all out. To let somebody else share the responsibility.

He dropped his head in his hands. 'Master Quatre has been missing for days now,' he muttered wretchedly. 'I have been torn between keeping my sacred word, and whether silence might ultimately cause more damage. When Rashid told me this morning that you were here, I thought I could trust you, Master Duo. I know you have always been the person he trusts most in the world.'

Hmmm. Someone obviously hadn't been talking to Master Quatre lately. Even so, it was kind of nice that there was someone in the universe who still thought that Quat and I were friends. Even if it wasn't true.

'I did a terrible thing,' he confessed. 'I knew what the package contained, but I was curious. I looked inside, and I took copies. I thought perhaps Master Quatre might regret if he truly destroyed them. He said he didn't need the things any more, not when Barton left, but he'd left before and Master Quatre had taken him back.' He mopped his forehead with his loose sleeve. Weird, I'd thought the Maguanacs would be used to the heat but he was sweating like crazy. 'I still have the copies.' He slid one hand under his jacket and produced a manila envelope, giving Heero a sceptical look. 'I had planned to show it only to you, Master Duo.'

'It's OK. We can trust him.'

'Master Quatre doesn't.'

'Well, Master Quatre isn't here right now, is he? I'm sure he'd trust Heero with something like this. Something this important.'

Sarab sighed, obviously not too happy, and handed it over anyway.

It contained a few typed pages and a small sheaf of photographs.

OK, they weren't exactly pretty, but I'd grown up on L2. I'd been a terrorist. I'd seen some of the cases Heero had dealt with when he was a Preventer. Hell, I'd read exactly how Ali had died. It takes a hell of a lot to shock me, and the photos weren't that bad.

I wasn't sure quite what I'd been expecting; deep down, I'd never really believed that Trowa could hurt his partner. Oh, I could see him maybe taking a swing at him if Quat pushed him far enough, but Quatre was well able to take care of himself.

Sure, I could see Trowa beating himself up over what had happened, but once upon a time, I would have brushed off bruises like that, and counted myself lucky.

The three typed pages were another matter. Evaluations of Trowa's mental condition by three separate psychologists, they read more or less like my own. References to PTSD, significant traumas and abuse at an early age, history of violence. Whatever.

There was also a signed, witnessed statement from a maid in their house, claiming that Trowa had almost shot her a few months ago.

'Trowa said he'd never seen a shrink; that he and Quat didn't want the Winners to find out there was a problem.'

'He didn't,' Sarab said briefly. 'Master Quatre engaged these professionals on a purely consultancy basis. They drew up their findings based on information given to them.'

'Psychiatrists can't do that sort of thing, can they?' I blurted, and then realised that I sounded hopelessly naïve. Quatre could offer more than enough money to tempt a saint. Sure, they have all these professional ethics and such, but I was sure there were some people who'd happily forgo all that for a nibble at the Winner fortune.

Sarab glanced at his watch. 'Can you excuse me for a minute? I need to call Samira and tell her I'm back on L4. I didn't want to call too early but she should be awake now.'

'Sure.' I took a sip of my tea, trying hard not to think all kinds of scary thoughts about my own therapist's ethical code. It wasn't like he'd even have to invent anything. A few transcripts, particularly from our earlier sessions, would probably convince any court that society as a whole would benefit from locking D. Maxwell into a Gundaminum cell, and flinging the key away.

Damn. Didn't want to start thinking about court cases; I'd pretty much successfully managed to shut that particular gremlin away for a couple of days.

'Heero?'

'Duo?' He looked over at me, his expression not entirely sure whether it wanted to be amused or indulgent or affectionate, with a good dollop of wistfulness thrown in for good measure. 'I can't believe I'd forgotten how you do that.'

'Um, how I say your name?'

'Not just that. How you look when you're concentrating on something. How you look when you're forgetting to play the joker. What is it?'

'Stuff. Quatre. This court case to have me declared mentally incompetent or whatever it is, will that still go ahead if Quat's missing?'

The smile withered. 'I'm afraid so. It's a matter for the courts now.' He reached out and took my hand in his, squeezing just a little. 'Don't worry, Duo. I won't let you go to prison, you know that.'

'I know,' I said softly. It wouldn't be prison anyway, would it? It'd be somewhere with nice padded walls and no primary colours.'

'Duo, don't joke about something like that, please.'

'Yeah. Sorry,' I rubbed one hand across my eyes. 'You know, that little desert island you talked about gets more and more attractive the longer I think about it. I don't understand any of this. Why the hell would Quat want to collect all that shit?' I gestured to the envelope on the table between us. '

'I don't know.' Heero frowned at the photographs. 'He obviously went to considerable trouble to do so, and then destroyed them. If that's what he did.'

'Sounds like he only decided to destroy them after Trowa left, right?'

He shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. 'It sounds to me like Sarab wants to implicate Trowa somehow, and these documents are supposed to achieve that. I don't know, Duo. You must know Sarab better than I do, but I don't remember him being so…twitchy.'

'He's got a pregnant wife; if Samira's anything like Hilde, I can totally get the twitchiness. Plus he's got all those Maguanac ideas about honour and stuff; it's probably killing him to think he's betraying Master Quatre.'

I flipped my still damp hair over my shoulder; I hadn't bothered to braid it when Heero had called me downstairs, just tied it back and the loose wisps around my face were starting to annoy me. He scooted his chair a little closer, and pulled it loose before combing through it with his fingers, every movement caressingly slow and gentle.

'I hate this, 'Ro. I absolutely hate everything to do with all of this. And I don't understand any of it.'

'I know, love. I know.' I leaned back into his touch, making him chuckle softly. 'None of it makes any sense.'

He was just finishing off my braid when Sarab walked back in, flushing slightly at the spectacle of social grooming at the kitchen table. Poor guy obviously didn't get out much if that was enough to embarrass him.

'Everything OK?'

He nodded, a little uncertainly. 'Samira is suffering from very bad morning sickness.'

'Uh oh,' I pulled a sympathetic face. For the first few months of her pregnancy, Hilde had suffered from twenty four hour sickness. On occasion, she'd called me and made me listen to her retching, claiming she wanted at least one man in the universe to suffer as well.

'Sarab? What d'you want us to do with these?'

He just shrugged. 'It hardly matters now. But you may wish to give them to the police or Preventers should they require more evidence. Perhaps if they have concrete proof of how that man treated Master Quatre, they will be less likely to make any allowances for his … notoriety.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Barton.' Sarab sounded surprised. 'Surely you have heard by now? He has just been arrested by a squad of Preventer agents. I believe he is being taken to Earth.'

'You've fucking got to be joking!' I snapped.

'Certainly not,' he said, a little stiffly. 'I would not joke about such a matter. I assumed you knew. I heard it on the radio as I was driving here.'

'You're joking,' I said again. 'He can't have been.'

Heero and I did simultaneous dives for our cell phones. 'I'm going to see if can contact Noin. Duo, try Wufei or Zechs; they might have heard something.'

I tried Wufei's number as Heero walked out of the kitchen, and got an engaged tone. Damn, probably trying to contact me.

'You can't really believe Trowa's guilty,' I said suddenly. 'You've known him for years, for God's sake. You've worked together. He was at your wedding, he considers you a friend, someone he trusts.'

'I do not know.' Sarab lowered his gaze, indicating the litter of papers on the table top. 'I have read these reports, by professional psychiatrists. They say Master Trowa has been suffering ever since the War, ever before that. That he is mentally ill, and is in need of help. Perhaps it is for the best that he has been taken. Now he can be given appropriate help.'

'Oh, screw that,' I snapped. 'If anyone is messed up from the War, it sure as hell isn't Trowa. He's the sanest of any of us, and you guys should all be thanking him for how good he's been for Quatre, not accusing him of all this shit.'

The glare Sarab tossed me was nowhere in Heero's class but fairly creditable. 'I thought you were Master Quatre's friend.' He glanced at the photographs. 'How can you condone any of this?'

'I'm not condoning it.' I wasn't, was I? Quatre wasn't me; the bare fact that Trowa had laid hands on him like that had probably been horrific enough. I just didn't get it, though.

'Come on, Sarab. You can't really believe all this, can you? It's not like Quatre's exactly the passive victim type.' He was the opposite, if anything; the one who believed that anything in the universe was possible with enough commitment. He certainly wasn't the sort to sit around and let himself get caught up in domestic violence.

I couldn't understand why he hadn't just kicked Trowa out, or fought back. Again with the None of This Makes Any Sense. I remembered Trowa telling me that he'd hit Quatre, that very first day he'd stayed with us. I'd wanted to punch his teeth out. I hadn't worked out when I'd stopped getting so worked up about Quatre and started to sympathise with Trowa instead.

Sarab shrugged miserably. 'All I know is that he hurt Master Quatre. I don't know why he never said anything. Perhaps he thought that he could make things better himself?'

'It's just as Sarab said.' Heero entered the kitchen abruptly, and gave Sarab a terse nod. 'I called Rashid; he'll be here to pick us up in ten minutes. We need to get back to the city.'

'Then I must go,' Sarab stood up hurriedly. 'Rashid will want to know what I'm doing here, and I would appreciate if you didn't mention my visit. He would want to know why I'm here, and…' he cast me an imploring look. 'Master Duo, I can't tell him I've betrayed Master Quatre's trust.'

'I won't. Listen, what are we going to do with all these ..things?'

'Do as you think best. You can say you found them here when you searched the cottage. Anything.' Ignoring Heero, he swept me a formal little bow and vanished.

'It's not true, 'Ro, is it?' They can't arrest him! There's no damn proof! You said there was only ever circumstantial evidence, and even Noin said there was no real case against him. It's that bitch, Une, isn't it? She's always had it in for him. Bet she'd fucking love to see him dragged into her office in chains.'

'Duo, there's no question of that happening. He hasn't been officially charged yet, but apparently there is a new piece of evidence which implicates Trowa.' He shook his head. 'I don't know if you know this, but under the terms of Quatre's will, Trowa is the major beneficiary. It gives him rather a considerable motive.'

'You know Trowa wouldn't give a shit about that! He's never cared about money.'

'Of course, I know. Now, listen, I've just called a friend of mine. She's the finest criminal defence lawyer I know, and she's willing to take on Trowa's case. She'll be waiting for his shuttle when it lands.'

'And she'll be able to get him released? Post bail or whatever?

'She will see that Trowa receives his official rights at all times.' Heero told me. 'I don't know about bail, yet. Apparently, they need to question him. There are some minor charges, in addition. Resisting arrest, damage to an official Preventers vehicle, and assault to members of the organisation.'

'Oh!' I snapped. 'That is all such bullshit, Heero! He'd never have done any of that stuff if they hadn't tried to arrest him in the first place on some trumped-up charge.'

He nodded. 'Sophia will do everything she can, Duo. I know that. But I think I should go after Trowa. He's going to need moral support as much as anything.'

'I'm coming with you!' I glared at him in case he had the gall to refuse. Instead, he had the good sense to give me another nod.

'Of course. I've called Rashid to get him to arrange transport back to the city, as soon as possible. Did you manage to call Wufei?'

I shook my head. 'His line was busy with another call waiting. I thought he was maybe trying to reach me. I'll try again now.'

'All right. I'll go and get our bags from upstairs.' He hesitated, then crossed over and kissed me. 'Don't worry, love. In some ways, he's probably better off in custody than gallivanting around the universe getting into trouble.'

'How the hell can you say a thing like that? How is he better off locked up than free to look for Quatre?'

'Because if anything else does happen, then he can't possibly be implicated,' he said levelly.

'Oh. I guess.' Damn, it was still hard to think of Trowa locked up somewhere. Une would probably throw the key away, if she thought she'd get away with it. 'What are we going to do with these? Destroy them?' I gestured to the contents of the envelopes distastefully.

'I don't think so,' Heero gathered them up neatly into their envelope. 'They could come in very useful.'

'What?' I stared at him. 'I suppose you want to courier them to Une so she's got more evidence to use against Tro.'

'Of course not,' he said composedly. 'None of them would be admissible in a courtroom anyway. There's no proof of what actually caused Quatre's injuries, and as for these documents... They're just trumpery reports by so-called professionals who never even saw Trowa. Any moderately competent trial lawyer would tear them to shreds in two seconds.'

'There's the chambermaid's letter though, isn't there? It's signed and everything.'

'It doesn't mean anything. She says she went into Quatre's bedroom to change the linen, expecting it to be empty. As Quat's bodyguard, Trowa reacted perfectly to a possible threat.'

'Really? So none of it means anything? Then why did Quat go to all this trouble to collect this stuff? Did he think it would be enough to make a case against Trowa or what? It doesn't make any damn sense. I mean, if he wanted Tro out of his life, he could've just said so.'

'He could have told you to get out of his life too,' Heero took a quick sip of his tea. 'Would you have gone?'

'Probably not.' I considered. 'Actually, definitely not. I'd just have thought there was something wrong with him.'

'And tried to find out what it was?'

'Sure.' I stood up and rummaged in the cupboard until I found some cookies that looked vaguely edible. 'You think he set up the whole court case just to piss me off so I'd stop being friends with him? That's ridiculous.'

'I'm not sure that it is,' he said slowly, accepting a macadamia cookie and biting it thoughtfully. 'His so-called charges against you…they won't stand up for a moment in court.'

'You seemed pretty worried about it before. And I've done some pretty stupid things. Things that wouldn't maybe look too good to a jury?'

'That was all years ago, and directly attributable to PTSD, caused by your helping to defeat an evil organisation and save the Earth. Since then, you've educated yourself, and you have an incredibly responsible career. No jury in the world would find you incompetent, Duo; you'd probably end up getting a medal.'

'I can just imagine you in a courtroom, you know that? I can imagine why you're supposed to so good at your job, manipulating witnesses all over the place.'

'I'd prefer not to use that term, love, if you don't mind. It's more …guiding them to the desired conclusions.'

'Which is totally different to manipulation, of course,' I gave him a quick grin, and then sighed. 'So, what, you think Quatre knew in advance that my case wouldn't hold water?'

'I think so. You said, back in Florence, that if Quatre had seriously wanted to cause trouble for you, that he would have found a more extreme way. I imagine this case was only ever considered because of who was bringing it. Quatre possesses a great deal of influence, not just on L4.' He stood up, pushing his chair in neatly, and placing the envelope in his jacket pocket. 'We should be getting ready to go, Duo. Rashid should be here soon. Incidentally, I find it highly suspicious that Sarab wanted to run off as soon as Rashid's name was mentioned.'

'Well, it didn't help that you were treating him like suspect number one. Sheesh, 'Ro, he's a friend. You didn't have to give him the third degree like that.'

He shrugged. 'An innocent person would have been more indignant on his own behalf, don't you think?'

'What? Sarab can't have anything to do with this. No way!'

'Are you so sure about that? I thought he acted very oddly. And I can't see why he couldn't have stayed to meet Rashid.'

'He told us why; because he's got all these stupid ideas about not breaking his word, and now he thinks he's damaged his honour or something. He'd never hurt Quatre.'

Heero gave me a very direct look. 'By his own admission, he's known for weeks that Trowa was abusing Quatre. In your place, wouldn't you consider Quatre's welfare to be more important than keeping an oath?'

'I guess. But that's just me. Come on, Heero. He's a Maguanac. He'd kill himself rather than hurt Quat. You know that.'

'Whoever abducted Quatre was someone he knew and trusted. It had to have been, Duo. They got close enough to take out two bodyguards, kill the girl and presumably disable Quatre. It had to have been someone who would never have raised the slightest suspicion or they would have been on their guard.'

'Shit.' He was right, of course. It all made awful, perfect sense. 'You don't know that for sure. There could be a totally different explanation. I still can't see Sarab doing anything like that. I've known him for years, 'Ro. He'd never betray Master Quatre.'

'Maybe it wasn't his choice. I'm going to call Rashid, and tell him what I think. It's up to him what happens after that, but I think someone should be keeping a very close eye on Sarab's comings and goings for a while.'

'But.. if Sarab is innocent of all this, we're just getting him into trouble. And I told him I wouldn't say anything to Rashid....'

'I'll talk to Rashid,' Heero told me firmly. 'If he's innocent, then he has nothing to hide. Agreed?'

'I suppose.' OK, I still wasn't fully convinced. I'd known Sarab since I was fifteen. He'd never given me a single reason not to trust him. But, like Heero said, Quatre could only have been taken by someone on the inside.

'I'll try calling Wufei again, then.' Before I had a chance to dial, though, the 'phone was already ringing.

'Mister Maxwell? This is Carla from the Sanque Embassy in Florence.' The young female voice spoke English carefully, like she was concentrating on every syllable. 'I am sorry to disturb, sir, but there is a message for you on your mobile 'phone.'

'Uh, sorry?' I couldn't quite work out how an Italian Embassy was picking up on my voicemail.

'When you left on Tuesday, one of the gardeners found your 'phone. It had apparently fallen into the fountain by accident.' Oh, that 'phone. Damn, but the bloody thing seemed to have some sort of boomerang properties. I'd tried to bury it at the back of the closet in Heero's house, I'd tried to drown it, and it still kept finding me.

'We were planning to courier it to you on L4 and then we thought it you might like to hear the message.'

'Sure. That'd be great.' I tried to think who'd have called that number; I'd thought I'd given the new one to all of my friends. Probably someone hawking double-glazing or special deals on cable TV.

It was Quatre.

Lucky I was sitting down.

Somewhere during the message, Heero had materialised at my side, grabbing the 'phone as the message played out, pouring a torrent of Italian down the line. I could imagine poor Carla quaking at whatever it was he was barking at her.

'What..what was that about?'

He gave me back my 'phone, and I noticed my hands were shaking slightly. 'I'm sorry. I told her to have the 'phone brought to Preventers HQ immediately. They should be able to trace it.' He took a deep breath. 'That was just surreal, Duo. Hearing his voice like that.'

'Yeah. Tell me about it.' I let him squeeze my hands, holding them steady. 'Well, at least we know he's still alive,' I said quietly, and then bit my lip because it actually meant nothing of the sort.

It could have been some sort of pre-recorded message, or just a good digital simulation of Quat's voice.

It didn't really have to mean that he was still alive.

'If ..they can trace it, we can find out where he is. Find him. God, 'Ro. I can't fucking believe this. He's been AWOL for a week or something and he just calls me on the 'phone. We have to call the others. Trowa! Wait 'til he hears this. And that bitch can't keep him in custody if we find Quatre. '

'Take it easy, my love.' He perched on the arm of my chair, sliding one arm around my shoulders. 'We need to find out if it's really him, before anything else. Even if it's not some sort of hoax, the call may not be traceable.'

'It was him,' I said suddenly. ''Ro, I damn well know what my best friend's voice sounds like. And all that apologising, and worrying about Tro. It had to have been him. And if he's that concerned about Trowa, it means that he still cares about him, right?'

He sighed. 'Duo….before you get carried away, at least wait to hear what the Florence Preventers have to say, OK?' He dropped a kiss on the top of my head.

'OK, OK,' I muttered. 'I'm not getting carried away! But, seriously, it was Quatre.'

It had to have been. Quatre Winner was the only person in the known universe who could possibly have used the word 'sorry' so many times in such a short space of time.