The boy arrived around dusk, a few hours later. My slaves had finished breakfast and Quatre and Trowa had gone back to sleep, while Heero had run off to get the dry-cleaning. I carefully closed the bedroom door before answering the doorbell, hoping the other two would no wake and come to investigate. I felt I needed to address Dragon on my own first.

It was the same boy as the other night that I opened the door to now. He was still withdrawn from our world, seeming as though he could not be bothered to come down to our plane. There was a haughty air around him, a sullen demeanor the showed a reluctance to be in my presence. Still, underneath all that I again saw a proud, lonely, pained young boy. He had not allowed himself to be broken by the trials of slavery, and I respected him for that.

And now, I would crush him because of it.

"Dragon," I said, motioning for him to enter. He did so without hesitation, without any kind of self-confidence, and without any kind of gratitude towards me. No, he was not like my other slaves at all.

"I suppose the Owner has contacted you," he said, glaring at me, his nose tilted just lightly upward, as though I were dirty.

"He has," I responded passively. I would not be drawn into a battle on his ground. No, he would meet me on even turf.

"Then you know that I will not submit to you so readily. You must beat me in strength or intelligence for me to become your slave and allow you to whip me like a dog. If you expect me to lie on my back for you like a woman, you had better be skilled in the arts of war," he said, sneering at me. But I would not let him rile me. I knew well what his game was, and I had anticipated from his entrance that he would attempt to antagonize me. If I were to lose control during the battle, I would have no chance to win against him. Even now, as I saw the way his body naturally moved with a fighter's grace, I worried about the outcome of the fight.

"We shall find out soon enough," I promised. "Are you ready to begin our fight?" I asked. He glanced around the room, then moved into a defensive stance. I laughed at him. "If you don't mind, I would prefer to keep my furniture as it is. I'm certain we can find an empty room in the gym," I commented, still smiling with tense mirth. Dragon snarled, blushing bright red. Inadvertently, I was already one ahead of him in the fight, for he was slightly unsettled, and I was still calm. "Let me tell my slaves that I am going," I said, tilting my head toward the bedroom. He rose, cautiously, from his fighting stance, then nodded once, as though I needed his permission.

It was infuriating, his actions toward me, since I was taller, older, and higher ranking, but on another level it was deeply satisfying. It was the first time in almost a month that another person had challenged me, disrespected me, talked back to me, or anything else that normal interactions created every day. It was as aggravating as it was refreshing.

I quickly slipped into the bedroom, leaving Dragon in the hall, and crossed the room to Trowa's side. He and Quatre were curled together, so much so that I had to be extra careful shaking Trowa's shoulder as not to wake Quatre. I needn't have bothered, though, as Trowa's eye snapped open upon my first touch.

"I'm going out for a while," I whispered to him, "take care of Quatre, and ask Heero to make the necessary excuses for tonight, as I don't believe I will be going out. Make sure you eat dinner, and give Quatre his pills after he eats. Don't let Heero try to come find me, alright?" I asked, and Trowa merely nodded his head, taking in my words without questioning my actions. I smiled to myself as I rose, wondering what Dragon's response would have been had I posed the same proposition to him. I didn't doubt his reply would have used several expletives, and probably required me to kiss a currently covered part of his body. Not that I would mind, for, despite or possibly because of his proud demeanor, he was quite beautiful to behold. With his golden skin and raven hair, he was like an oriental deity, and his perfect fighter's physique only added to his allure. His stance gave off a masculine feel, while his height and size radiated submission. It was what every master dreamed of, the challenge of subduing a gorgeous and powerful slave.

My dreams were far from breaking the soul of a beautiful boy, but I found that I would probably be attempting it soon anyway. Would there be any way for the boy to remain in tact, if I were to defeat him? Certainly he had survived the Owner's domination, but there had been no master since who had defeated him. The match itself would be a close draw, but I was fairly confident that I could defeat the boy. After all, I was older, larger, stronger, and with more experience. While the boy had obviously studied hard and looked quick and graceful, it seemed from his tough demeanor that he would have trouble quickly changing fighting styles. I could use that to my advantage. But... I dreaded seeing the fire behind those eyes smolder into nothing. But could I really risk keeping him, endangering my other slaves, if he would not listen to me? The disrespect I could handle, as angry subordinates often cursed their superiors under their breaths, but I would never allow a subordinate who even hesitated to obey my orders anywhere near a battle. Was this so different?

All this passed through my mind on the short walk from the bedroom to the den, where Dragon still stood, impatiently awaiting my return.