Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Multum in Parvo ( Chapter 50 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 50/?

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Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, cliffhangers, red herrings, mention of various vices, random bits of useless knowledge, occasionally explicit sex, enough footnotes to choke an army of horses.

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Nah

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no money being made, yadda yadda. Written for fun, not profit.

Archived at:
http://www.atsui.org
http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw /Mookie/gwmookie.htm

Edulcorate (verb) - To free from harshness (as of attitude); to soften

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Chapter 50 - Multum in Parvo

"You seem to have been very thorough, my dear. Perhaps, if I may say so, just a little too thorough. I always think, you know, that one should have a plan. It's like my friend, Mrs. Eldritch; she had such a nice little maid...Please forgive me. So apt, I know, to fly off at a tangent. But one thing does remind one of another. And sometimes that is helpful." - Jane Marple, Strange Jest

~~~~~

Quatre turned on his side for the tenth time in less than a minute, unable to get comfortable in the unfamiliar bed.

After Trowa had left the bar the night before, he'd been at a loss as to what to do. Cathy had glared at him a few times, but he hadn't budged, unable to tear his eyes away from the door, which someone had finally closed some time ago.

Then she had leaned over the bar and said, with her voice full of meaning, "I think you should go."

She didn't elaborate, but Quatre was pretty sure she suspected he wasn't old enough to be there, and he supposed he should count himself lucky. He'd slid off the barstool and trudged home. Where else could he go, after all? Cathy had kicked him out of the bar, but it really hadn't mattered. With neither Heero nor Trowa there, the bar no longer offered the same comforting feeling he'd grown fond of.

He had been unable to sleep alone in his bed, and had fallen into Heero's once again. But the reason for his restlessness had little to do with that. In fact, he actually felt a tiny sense of reassurance, being able to smell Heero faintly on the pillows and sheets.

Perhaps it was the waning effects of the alcohol that made Heero's scent less enticing that usual. He tried to remember their first and only kiss, but all his mind kept returning to the look on Trowa's face before he'd stormed out of the bathroom.

Quatre even let his hand slide down the front of his pants, not caring that it wasn't exactly something you did in your best friend's bed, but he couldn't conjure up the visual image from the shower the previous day. The intensity wasn't there, and the picture was all wrong now.

He pulled his hand out and turned onto his stomach, burying his head into Heero's pillow and groaning loudly.

You've made a mess of things, Quatre. A complete mess. What do you plan on doing about it now?

He groaned again and this time picked up the pillow and buried his head under it.

The phone rang. Their only phone was in the kitchen, and Quatre wanted to kill whoever was on the other end before he realized who it was. He scrambled out of Heero's bed and nearly tripped as he ran to the kitchen.

"Heero!" he exclaimed as he picked up the phone.

"Quatre."

Quatre was weak with relief. He'd needed Heero so very much. Before he could ask why Heero was calling or when he was coming home, he heard the other man speak again.

Quatre gripped the phone with both hands as he processed what Heero was asking him.

"Breakfast? Where?"

He nodded, although Heero couldn't see him. "Yes, I have money. Can you give me enough time to shower and catch a cab?"

"OK," he said after Heero agreed that it would be prudent of him to do so. "Got it. The Tiara. See you in thirty."

He went to his room and opened the tiny closet, shoving all his 'work clothes' aside until he got to the last item on the rack. He pulled the pants off the hanger and looked at them critically. They'd have to do.

Now for that shower.

~~~~~

A young blonde was fast-forwarding through a videotape to bypass the commercial advertisements when the phone near her elbow rang, startling her. She paused the tape and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

She smiled broadly. "Hi, Nadia! I just knew you'd give in and agree to have breakfast with me one of these days!"

Her smile faded, and she listened carefully to the woman on the other end.

"Oh. Your car? Holy...you're OK, though, right? Yes, that's fine. I can pick you up. Where are you right now?"

Nadia was in the middle of giving her directions when the phone beeped.

"Rats," Janet said. "I hate to do this, but can you hold one moment?"

She clicked the flash button to accept the incoming call. Her eyes grew wide and she nodded eagerly as she listened.

"Sure, that's no problem at all. No, really Wufei, I don't mind. In fact, I think this might be rather exciting! There's just one thing...have you called anyone else, and if not, do you think the company can spring for two of us pulling double time today?"

~~~~~

Heero felt the urge to pace, a habit he'd thought he'd long since weaned himself of. He leaned against the window to Owen's Market, keeping an eye out for Quatre.

The walk to the Renaissance Hotel had only taken fifteen minutes, so he had at least another fifteen to wait. He spent the time reacquainting himself with more of his old habits; watching people entering and leaving the grocery store, observing the behavioral quirks of some of them, determining at a glance their financial and educational background. Eventually he gave up entirely and started thinking about his conversation with Duo.

He pushed himself away from the building as soon as he saw Quatre's blond hair and familiar carriage from a distance. It struck him that Quatre had a rather regal bearing, and wondered again what had driven his roommate to prostitution.

He met Quatre a block from the hotel, and felt a tiny stab of guilt at the look of overwhelming relief on Quatre's face.

"I was beginning to think I'd never see you again," Quatre said. "I have a lot I want to talk to you about."

Heero nodded. The same was true for him. They both turned to the entrance, but before either could reach for the closest door, it opened.

A slender blonde woman stepped out and made immediate eye contact with Quatre, whose entire body started with surprise as he realized who he'd just, almost literally, run into. When she spoke, he noticed that her voice was as chilling as he'd remembered it being.

"Quatre Raberba Winner."

~~~~~

Catherine Bloom emptied the last scoop of coffee into the filter and flicked the switch the BREW before turning her attention to the stove.

Trowa was standing near the sink, looking out the window. The sun was directly outside that side of the apartment this time of day, and he squinted slightly, but didn't blink. The brightness was making his eyes water slightly, but he did not seem to notice, or perhaps he simply wasn't bothered by it enough to drop the curtain he was holding.

He sat at the kitchen table after she placed his plate in front of one of the chairs and ate, seeming mindless to what he was putting in his mouth.

She sat across from him with her own plate untouched. She wanted to reach out and brush his hair from his face. Brother or not, she could safely admit that he was a handsome young man, and it was a shame he hid his face from view.

Of course Trowa was very good at concealing things.

Their jobs shouldn't have really been all that different, but Catherine did not do undercover work. She didn't have her brother's infiltration skills, or whatever else it was that he'd needed as part of the Recon forces.

She'd taken so much for granted. He'd been even more closed off since he came home. It had been a shock, after he'd expressed his excitement about qualifying for the Special Forces, to see him at her commencement ceremony.

"What are you thinking about?" Trowa's quiet voice permeated the silence.

"My graduation," she said. "Seeing you there."

He set his fork down and his eyes, partially concealed as they were, studied her intently.

"I was happy to see you," she said, sounding guilty. "I didn't know, Trowa."

He remained silent, and then he smiled at her. "Kern County."

Confused, she nodded. "Yes."

His smile approached a grin. "'We'll kick your ass,'" he quoted, gesturing with his fingers. Had he always had that habit, she wondered, before realizing he'd just made a joke.

She laughed. "And take your donuts, too." She wagged a finger at him. "I'll have you know that so far I've gotten two mugs, a Frisbee, and a damned teddy bear."

"I think I'd like a cup of coffee in one of those mugs," Trowa said, but his smile had slipped a little.

She shook her head. "They're in my locker, but I'd be happy to give you one of them. You can have the whole kit and caboodle, while we're at it. I'm sure I'll end up getting another one if someone realizes mine has gone AWOL."

He nodded absently, and she frowned. The brief flash of humor he'd shown was already gone.

Finally she decided to grasp the bull by the horns. She'd never pulled any punches with her brother, and she didn't see the point in starting now.

"What you said about Article 125," she began. "You were serious."

He nodded again, but at least he was looking at her this time.

"Yes."

"Trowa-"

He shook his head, causing her to falter slightly, but she charged ahead despite the nagging of her conscience.

"Do you love him?"

"I appreciate your concern, Catherine," Trowa replied, "but I would also appreciate it if you'd refrain from speculation about things you know nothing about." His tone of voice indicated that he would not welcome any further discussion on the topic.

He took a sip of his coffee. 'Besides,' he thought, 'if I did, you certainly wouldn't be the first one to know.'

~~~~~

"Dorothy Catalonia," Quatre replied.

She glanced at Heero, then back at Quatre. "Interesting company you keep." Her lips curled derisively. "Tell me, how's the family? Have you spoken to Almira recently? I understand she's taken over a good portion of your responsibilities."

Quatre ignored the question, merely bowed his head in greeting and said, "you look lovely this morning, Dorothy. How was your breakfast? I trust you had a satisfying repast?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she shrugged indifferently.

"Satisfaction is a relative term," she said. "And I am always careful that I am not the smallest fish in the pond." Her eyes flicked to Heero again. "You never know when those you thought were your allies may turn on you."

Her eyes lit up as her smile grew a bit wider, and she turned to address Heero.

"You seem to make a habit of dining with the affluent."

Heero showed no outward sign of her comment having any impact on him, although he was surprised that she knew that he'd been the one dining with Relena the other day. Fortunately he hadn't had to spend any time figuring out who she was, thanks to Quatre.

"But then," Dorothy continued. "So do I."

She tilted her head toward a familiar longhaired figure who was walking toward a taxi that had just pulled up to the curb.

Suddenly the tall blond man stopped and turned. From that brief distance, it seemed as though his eyes had locked onto Heero's, and Quatre looked from one to the other curiously.

Milliardo got into the cab, acting as if he and Heero hadn't just had the briefest clash of wills, and Dorothy smiled again.

Before she could say anything, Heero spoke.

"A word of caution," he began, causing a flicker of amusement in Dorothy's eyes.

He met her unwavering gaze with his own. "Eventually the eight mortal heads were not enough of a distraction for the warrior who succeeded in slaying the hydra."

She made a snort of near disgust. "Heracles had help in defeating that beast."

Heero nodded. "But not everyone is able to recognize Iolaus as a threat in time."

He nodded to Quatre, who gratefully opened the door so the two of them could enter.

Dorothy watched the door close behind them, then laughed lightly.

"You certainly do have interesting allies, Quatre Raberba Winner," she said.

For the briefest of moments, she looked no older than her nineteen years before she walked to her grandfather's car and got in.

tbc

~~~~~

multum in parvo - much in a little

For a pic of the Kern County Sheriff's Department vehicle bearing the department "motto" that Trowa teased Catherine about, try accessing it here (crossing my fingers and hoping it works): http://home.comcast.net/~mookietwinkie/kern.jpg

The story accompanying this little prank can be found here:
http://kget.com/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=ed9cc47f-da34-40 5c-a679-9591ada281dc

While you're at it, feel free to purchase some fine merchandise featuring this bold new maxim: http://www.cafeshops.com/wellkickyourass

The nine-headed hydra - one of the Twelve Labors of Heracles (Hercules in Roman mythology). Of the nine heads, one was immortal, and in order to kill the beast, that head needed to be cut off. However, if one of the other eight heads was attacked, it would simply sprout a new one. Some accounts indicate that more than one new head would grow in its place. Iolaus assisted Heracles by cauterizing each stump before a new head could grow, enabling the Greek hero to finally reach the immortal head, through process of elimination. Iolaus was the son of Heracles' brother, Iphicles.

An interesting side note - apparently some texts also suggest the relationship between the two as erastes and eromenos (or to be blunt, lovers). There are two sites that provide a decent explanation of this more-than-meets-the-eye relationship, and of course you realize I will provide the links! Don't be put off by the word "pederasty" in the first link.
http://www.truthtree.com/pederasty.shtml
http://depthome.broo klyn.cuny.edu/classics/dunkle/athnlife/homosex.htm