Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Urges ( Chapter 51 )

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

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Chapter 51 - Urges

"It's very difficult to explain, but when you come across a peculiar thing you notice it." - Jane Marple, The Case of the Perfect Maid

~~~~~

Despite Quatre's outwardly calm appearance, inside he was a bundle of nerves, made worse by his unexpected run-in with Dorothy Catalonia.

It had been a shock to hear Trowa introduce him by his full name, but another thing entirely to see someone who actually knew him "back then," back when he was still the Winner heir. Back when he'd still felt in charge of his future, despite all the criticisms heaped upon him by Almira.

Although he was eager to see Heero again, he'd taken the bus instead of a cab, needing that brief feeling of anonymity, of being just another face in the crowd. He would not have waited at the bus stop for long, having promised to meet Heero within half an hour, but the fates seemed to smile upon him, as it arrived at the stop near the apartment less than a minute after he did. He had taken the quickest shower of his life, and in his haste to get dressed, had pulled a button loose from his dress shirt. He'd had to go back into the closet to find another, angrily pushing aside all the ones that he'd regularly worn at the bar and on the streets, unable to bring himself to don a single one of them. He found a suitable shirt once he'd calmed himself enough to slowly slide each hanger over the closet rod and actually looking at the garment before discarding it in his mind.

He had given up wearing that white Oxford months ago as soon as he'd realized it had inadvertently gotten mixed in with the same load of laundry as Heero's then-brand-new red shirt. Heero had wanted to wash the shirt prior to wearing in order to avoid the transfer of dye to his skin, and Quatre had volunteered to take care of that chore. It had gone right from the dryer to the closet and been promptly forgotten.

That had been shortly after they'd made love. Quatre still considered it more than sex, even if they hadn't shared a kiss since that first night. Heero had decided to acquire several new articles of clothing before following in Quatre's footsteps. Most of the new additions to Heero's wardrobe were vivid jewel tones, and all of them were of a rather shoddy quality. His concern regarding possible dye-to-skin transfer was not unfounded.

Quatre supposed he'd wanted to assume laundry duty in the hopes that all the colors would bleed together into some horrific tint, rendering them useless and forcing Heero to rethink his decision, as if he would based on a mere wardrobe mishap. Deep down he'd known that Heero's mind couldn't be changed, but he felt grasping at straws was better than doing nothing. Besides, since all the shirts and pants were dark, they suffered only the slightest alteration of hue, if at all. It had been a passive aggressive move on his part, and it might have been some minor karmic justice that only his shirt had suffered.

Quatre thought he might have gladly given up on the prostitution gig, though, had Heero been willing to make a go of a more permanent relationship.

So many missed opportunities.

He realized Heero's intent gaze was on him and he sighed. His painful woe-is-me trip down Memory Lane was going to have to wait.

"Dorothy and I go way back," he said. "We both attended a boarding school in Sheridan, Oregon. My eldest sister, Almira, met her at one of Delphi's parent's weekends, because my father was otherwise occupied. It could have been the renovation to the new wing of our estate, or the acquisition of a customer contract he'd been courting. I only remember being upset that he wasn't there, and even more upset that he'd thought that sending Almira in his place would make up for it.

"She and Dorothy took to each other on sight, which should have told me right then and there the kind of person Dorothy was, but I suppose I didn't realize how ruthless Almira was, either. She'd always been less than gracious when it came to me.

"You might suspect by now that my family has money," Quatre sighed. "In which case you are also wondering what the hell I'm doing here. I can't tell you how often I've wondered that myself."

He paused as the waiter came by to take their order, giving Heero an opportunity to study him. Quatre was dressed in what could best be described as business casual, in sharp contrast to his typical wardrobe, which was designed to entice in a deliberately careless manner. It reminded Heero of the indigo shirt he'd worn yesterday, with its open neck, giving just bare hint of exposed flesh, rather than something skin tight and indecent.

After their orders had been placed, Heero reached across the table to pluck a stray thread from Quatre's sleeve. When Quatre looked at him in surprise, he merely shrugged.

"I remember that shirt," Heero said, gesturing to the red thread before flicking it off his fingers and letting it fall to the floor. Quatre opened and closed his mouth once or twice, and then decided to simply forge ahead with the story.

"Dorothy was always good at piecing together things, based on very little information. You'd think the fact that she seems to jump to conclusions would result in poor judgements, but she has rarely been wrong about someone. Her mind processes things that most people would consider insignificant, but she files it away, ready to recall the most trivial things at a moment's notice."

He chuckled softly.

"One of the guys in my dorm once said her eyebrows were probably alien antennae. I doubt I would have been introduced to my father's business as young as I was if Almira hadn't made Dorothy's acquaintance. Miss Catalonia made quite an impression," he said, making a face. "My sister thought we'd make a formidable team, Dorothy and I. Almira started pushing for us to spend time together during school breaks. She'd invite Dorothy over on some shabby pretense, then find a reason to excuse herself, leaving me alone with Dorothy.

"Dorothy seemed amused by Almira's machinations. I don't know if she actually agreed that a marriage between us was a good idea. It would not have been a love match, but I wouldn't put it past Dorothy to have gone ahead with it if she thought it would provide her with the resources she needed for whatever game she was playing. Sometimes I wondered at the lengths to which she would go.

"I was only fourteen when Almira decided that a merger between Zodiac and Winner Industries would be the best plan for our future, which was, of course, the real reason for pushing me toward Dorothy. She pulled out no stops, either. I remember she'd invited Dorothy over to go swimming in our pool. Dorothy had a rather mature figure back then. Of course, Almira had no way of knowing that by then, I'd already realized that no amount of cleavage on display was going to sway me. Maybe if she'd paraded a man in a G-string in front of me, that could have worked. I told you I was only fourteen. Part of me would like to tell Almira that it's her fault I'm gay because of her forcing Dorothy on me, just to see the look on her face."

He gave a regretful smile. "That's not to say that I'm ashamed I'm homosexual. I think I was, when I first realized it. I was embarrassed by it. Gave up a lot of things I enjoyed, just to make myself seem more macho, as if my sexual preference meant I was nothing more than a female with external plumbing. And you have no idea how hard it is to appear butch when you have blond hair and blue eyes. You need width and breadth and an intimidating glare to get people to think of you as little more than a child.

"Dorothy, on the other hand, I doubt has ever looked angelic in her life. She never did in any of the years I've known her. She's always had this look of hidden knowledge, like she was keeping a lot of things to herself, until the time was right. I'd hate to play poker against her. It was a hundred and ten in the shade one summer, and the moment Dorothy came out on the deck, I felt like the sun had gone out. She seemed quite pleased the summer of our fifteenth year, when those of us enrolled in the Business Seminar went on a ten-day field trip.

"We visited companies in three major cities during that trip. We had the opportunity to speak with professionals to get acquainted with the world of business and finance. The Chicago Board of Trade and the Mercantile Exchange, Fidelity Investments and the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston, the World Trade Center and the New York Stock Exchange. Heero, only business VIPs are allowed to see what we did at the Stock Exchange! Then we finished with a visit to the United Nations building. In all three cities, we actually had nighttime activities that had nothing to do with business or finance or the corporate dance. They brought us to see Broadway shows and comedy revues!

"The school went all out with this trip to encompass both learning and recreation, and there was Dorothy with that secret little smile of hers the whole time. It got worse on the last leg of the trip, when we were in New York. I swear, it looked like she was planning something, but she always looked like that. Like she knew something you didn't know, and you were going to suffer for your lack of knowledge once she decided to put her latest game into play.

"Dorothy seems to view people as pawns on a chessboard. No," Quatre shook his head. "She is more like the student who spreads rumors around the schoolyard, but attribute the source of those rumors to someone else, merely to incite a fight between two otherwise innocent parties. In fact, she's done it. I've seen the look on her face when she steps back to watch the sparks fly. The guys I've performed fellatio on have never had the same look in their eyes that Dorothy would get when she watched the fruits of her labors.

"Are you familiar with Norse mythology, Heero?"

Heero shook his head. "I've heard of Asgard, and Thor and Odin, but that's about it."

"So you haven't heard of Loki?"

Heero recognized the name, and nodded, but Quatre was warming up to his subject.

"Dorothy is like the human incarnation of Loki. An enigma - both hero and enemy to the Aesir. He recovered Thor's hammer after it was stolen, but was responsible for the death of Balder. Sometimes it seems his motives were never really very clear, nor could you tell what side he'd take. That is Dorothy, in a nutshell.

"Shortly after that trip to the UN, Dorothy's grandfather lost his position with Zodiac, and she had to leave Delphi. A lot of students were quite relieved to see her go, but I knew then that wasn't the last I'd see of her. Almira was still holding out for a match between Dorothy and me despite what happened with Zodiac.

"I never expected our next meeting to be under these circumstances. If she doesn't already know what I've been up to since I left home, she will find out. She's worse than a bloodhound."

Quatre wanted to ask Heero about the staring match he'd had with the tall blond outside, but he had more pressing things on his mind. He couldn't help but feel that he should know that man, though, especially considering Dorothy's smug look. It wasn't just directed at Heero. He knew that for a fact. However, Dorothy liked to make one think that she knew a lot more than she let on. It was one of the reasons she was able to acquire so many dirty secrets. People were basically naive when it came to Dorothy. She never came out and said what she knew, even when it was obvious that she did know something. Therefore she acted the same whether she had dirt on someone or not. For some reason a lot of people assumed that meant that she was omniscient. Quatre wouldn't go that far, but he knew that she was probably the closest to it, given enough time. She could make a living as an extortionist, but that wasn't her style. She liked to see conflict, and wouldn't be happy accepting money in order for it to be avoided.

He was curious as to how she knew Heero, but he was tired of discussing Dorothy Catalonia. He wanted to put all his cards on the table for once, and pretend that he had been just fine with the way things went after he'd offered his heart to Heero.

His stomach lurched at the thought, which was rather untimely as their breakfast arrived just at that moment.

~~~~~

"Now that you know about my illicit affair with Dorothy Catalonia," Quatre said. "Care to share anything from your week of hobnobbing?"

He hadn't meant to put it like that, but it seemed he had misplaced his tact ever since Heero had gotten into that Ferrari. He'd thought things would somehow, magically, be better once he was face to face with the man he'd pined over for so long, but he was finding it difficult to say what was in his heart. In fact, he wasn't sure anymore just what was in his heart.

"We dined at the Samurai," Heero said. "We attended an art gallery showing, and an outdoor carnival of sorts. It seemed like a poor excuse for people to ingratiate themselves and pretend they were only there for the side show entertainment."

"Le Carnivale des Rêves," Quatre replied. When Heero raised an eyebrow in question, he added, "the carnival of dreams. I don't know why anyone thought that was a good name for it, or why they used French to name it, but I've heard of it. An old schoolmate of my father's used to attend every year, merely to see what new activities had been included.

"It's supposed to be an opportunity to bring the family for a relaxing day away from the office, but it's never served that purpose. I would never subject any children of mine to the piranha that attend. I know I'm making a blanket statement, but I shudder to think of running into Dorothy Catalonia at a place like that. I can picture arrows going astray. The death of Balder, all over again."

Heero nodded. "The last broken pencil has been removed."

This time Quatre's eyebrow quirked upwards, and Heero shook his head. "Think of it as the house of cards collapsing."

Quatre sighed heavily. He wasn't sure if he and Heero were thinking of the same thing, but that seemed to summarize what the week had been leading up to.

"I am done, Quatre," Heero said suddenly.

"Heero?"

Heero shook his head again. "I'm done. I will not accept any more clients after this. In fact, this service contract has expired as well. I need to get my things out of there."

They fell silent for a moment, then Heero added, "I was thinking of calling Trowa."

Quatre's entire body tensed, and Heero looked at him appraisingly.

Once Quatre felt he was able to speak without his voice showing any signs of the roiling emotions inside, he spoke.

"I am quite capable of helping you carry everything down from the hotel room."

Heero looked at him curiously. "Quatre, Trowa is the only one I know who has a car."

"I can call a cab," Quatre said. "I took the bus here, and even after I pay for our breakfasts, I will have enough for cab fare back. You and I can grab whatever it is you need from the room, and then go back to the apartment."

Heero didn't reply, just fixed that intense gaze he sometimes had right on Quatre.

"I blew it," Quatre confessed. "Trowa and I...I guess you could say we got into a bit of a...tiff."

Heero waited for Quatre to continue, knowing that his roommate was debating on just how much to share.

"God, Heero," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I really did fuck things up. Somehow...Trowa looked at me like I'd...as if..." his eyebrows furrowed. "I could feel him, Heero," he said. "I never could before, but I could last night. I could feel him, and he felt betrayed."

Heero had never pretended to entirely understand Quatre's strange 'feelings,' but he knew that whenever he had been struggling his hardest to stuff memories of Kitty back into the dark recesses of his mind, Quatre chose those times to come over and talk with him, to place a hand on his shoulder, or to otherwise help him climb out of the abyss he'd fallen into.

He didn't know how Quatre always knew when it was Iria on the phone, but it was just part and parcel of who Quatre was. He didn't need to understand all there was about Quatre to know that he trusted Quatre.

His eyes widened briefly. It was true. Damn it, it was true. He trusted Quatre. He'd unintentionally lied to Duo that first day.

Trowa had felt betrayed. Heero had no idea what had happened, but he was pretty sure he could relate, as he'd felt the same way quite recently.

"La traición no puede existir a menos que viva la confianza allí primero," Heero said.

"Excuse me?" Quatre asked.

Heero looked startled, as if he wasn't sure where that had come from. He frowned. It seemed as though he'd heard that very thing recently, but couldn't begin to hazard a guess as to where.

"La traición no puede existir a menos que viva la confianza allí primero," he repeated. "Betrayal doesn't exist unless trust lives there first."

Heero took a bite of his toast, but found it difficult to swallow.

"He said I'd gotten exactly what I wanted from our arrangement," he whispered.

"Did you?" Quatre asked.

Heero shook his head. "I don't know."

He chewed his next bite slowly. Duo had acted more than angry when he'd said that. He'd been hurt.

Duo had felt betrayed.

"There's an Arabian proverb," Quatre said. "A wise man associating with the vicious becomes an idiot; a dog travelling with good men becomes a rational being. Think we're both idiots, Heero?"

Heero shook his head again, but he wasn't disagreeing.

"You weren't planning on killing yourself that day, were you?"

This time when Heero shook his head, he meant it as a direct response to Quatre's question.

"I'm sorry, Heero," Quatre said quietly. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Quatre, it's not your fault. I knew what I was doing. You didn't put a gun to my head. Sorry," he added, seeing Quatre wince. "I wasn't naive enough to not realize you were evading the real question. You did that because you don't know, do you? You didn't have the answer."

"I did," Quatre confessed. "I didn't until I met you, but once I did, I knew."

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Quatre."

Quatre laughed ruefully. "We make quite a pair, don't we? Two ships that pass in the night."

Heero frowned, not liking that particular cliche one bit.

Quatre apologized again, despite Heero's dark look as he did so. "Sue me," he shrugged. "I can't help feeling guilty. It's my albatross, and I've grown quite fond of it." Heero's lips twitched slightly, and Quatre's formed into something that was almost a grin. "I know," he added. "My issues have issues."

"We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly," Heero quoted.

Quatre leaned back in his seat and picked up his coffee cup. He held it aloft for nearly a minute before setting it back down.

"A personal maxim of yours?"

Heero was beginning to think he might be able to carry on the entire conversation just by shaking his head as he did so for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Not mine. Sam Keen. I once had to help someone who was taking a class in Romantic Literature. For some reason she found it incredibly boring."

Quatre looked curious. "An old girlfriend?"

Heero actually summoned a smile. "My little sister."

~~~~~

A dark-haired woman breathed a sigh of relief as her plane touched down. She thought she'd never arrive in Los Angeles.

After everyone had disembarked the prison shaped like a Boeing 727, she didn't think she'd be able to hear the word delta again without cringing. She reshouldered her carry-on bag as she walked out the main doors and climbed into one of the cabs lined up along the sidewalk. She was looking forward to the opportunity to freshen up at the hotel. Maybe she'd even grab a bite to eat before tracking down the man she'd come to see.

"The Loews Beverly Hills," she told the cabbie.

"The what?"

She wondered briefly if she'd get arrested for assault if she hauled off and punched him, but decided his head would be hard enough to hurt her hand should she try it. She was in no mood for this after the hellish game of musical planes she'd had to endure just to get here.

"The Loews Beverly Hills," she said slowly. "On..." she pulled out a scrap of paper. "South Beverwil."

"Ah, the old Renaissance Hotel," he said. "Gotcha. Hang on."

She wasn't at all surprised that he'd meant that literally as the cab tore away from the airport.

~~~~~

"They say you can't go home again," Quatre mused. "But Iria is always trying to convince me to do so. I wonder who is right?"

"Quatre."

"Yes, Heero?"

"Thank you."

Quatre was confused, and it was evident in his face. Heero managed a smaller version of his earlier smile.

"For showing me how good it could be." He reached across the table and interlaced his fingers with Quatre's before squeezing them lightly.

"Now what?"

Heero released Quatre's fingers. "Now we go to the hotel and I decide what I'm taking with me when I go."

"Will you be staying at the hotel any longer?"

"I haven't decided yet, but when I do make my exit, I'd rather not look like a pack mule."

Quatre laughed at the mental image that conjured up, then he pulled out enough money to cover their meal and a tip. He threw the bills on the table, and the two of them left the restaurant and walked to the distance to the Regent Beverly Wilshire.

"Heero," Quatre said once they'd entered the lobby. "Do you want me to...?"

Heero looked at Quatre a moment, then glanced around the lobby. "I'll be right back," he said, once he saw who he was looking for.

A minute later, Quatre found himself being led to a banquet room by a balding man wearing a conservative business suit and a loud tie while Heero took the elevator up to the penthouse suite.

He sucked in a breath when he saw what was in the room, and he risked a glance at the manager of guest services.

Howard gestured toward the piano. "Go ahead."

Quatre sat down and ran his hands lovingly over the keys, then tried to select a song from memory. After a few false starts, he found one that he'd always loved, and it wasn't long after that before he closed his eyes and lost himself in the melody. Once he'd finished that one, he began another.

Heero found him like that ten minutes later, and he felt a tiny tug at his heartstrings.

It was such a different picture from the night he'd found Duo there. Where Duo had clumsily played the same portion of a single song over and over, in an almost defiant manner, Quatre practically embodied the melancholy tune he was playing.

Heero understood why musicians attracted so many admirers. He could see anyone easily falling in love with the pianist. It was a side of Quatre that had been kept under wraps. The only time he'd ever seen his roommate give himself over to his desires was their single night together, and Heero had refused to take it any further.

Up until now, he'd always viewed Quatre as little more than a kid. He had long suspected that Quatre might be just barely legal, and he had pieced together enough information from Quatre's past experience with Dorothy to estimate Quatre as no older than twenty.

This Quatre, though, was a virile, passionate young man. His fingers stumbled a few times, but he didn't allow himself to be dissuaded. The music touched a part of Heero's soul that he'd only allowed break free within the past week.

Heero was afraid to say anything when Quatre's hands stilled over the keys. He watched as the first man he'd ever made love to slowly got to his feet. Quatre turned to face Heero and their eyes locked.

"Heero," he said, his voice huskier than Heero had ever heard it.

Heero closed his eyes, afraid if he opened them he'd give into the fleeting temptation to close the distance between them and capture Quatre's lips with his own.

One thing was clear. Until he was sure what the hell he was going, he could not go back to the apartment with Quatre.

~~~~~

Duo had arrived at the office before anyone else, and he'd realized he had no idea what time things were going to get rolling. Wufei had mentioned assembling their team, so Duo assumed that meant his partner was taking care of calling whomever he thought they'd need for this last showdown with Peacecraft.

He picked up a thick folder from his desk and remembered that Janet had given it to him earlier in the week. He would just walk it over to the legal department and return it. Perhaps the physical activity would help clear his mind before he had to sit and pore over documents for however long it took. It was one aspect of the job he truly disliked. No wonder Wufei was so pleased to have the paralegals doing the brunt of the research and the interpretation of the fine print.

He wasn't sure where to put the file when he got there, and he didn't want to interfere with whatever system Janet might have in place. After glancing around for a safe repository, he placed it on the table that was empty save for the stereo.

His fingers fiddled with the dial and he turned it on.

"Guess I always knew inside," Barry Manilow crooned. "I wouldn't have you for a long time..."

Duo snapped off the radio and walked right out again. He hoped to hell Wufei was planning on arriving soon.

~~~~~

Heero had his hands shoved in his pockets and his head lowered, but he knew he was being tailed. It hadn't been for long. He didn't need to turn to see the limousine before he heard Relena Peacecraft's voice call to him.

"Heero!"

He slowed down and turned his head, then came to a complete stop. The limo pulled over to the curb, and she got out.

She peered into his eyes and touched his arm briefly.

"Heero? Where are you going right now? May I offer you transportation?"

He wanted to say no, but her hopeful look, again reminding him so much of Kitty's expression when she tried to wheedle him into agreeing with her, was his undoing.

Besides, he'd been walking around long enough. He knew where he needed to go now.

"OK," he said, and followed her back to where her chauffeur was waiting patiently.

~~~~~

Quatre got out of the cab in front of the tenement he shared with Heero and removed the items Heero had decided to take with him. Heero had seemed indecisive as to whether to return to the hotel or not, and Quatre respected that. He didn't like it, but he respected it.

Something had passed between them in that banquet room. Quatre wasn't yet sure if it was a beginning, or an end, but he'd known for a while that things between Heero and himself would never be the same again.

He thought that, perhaps, regardless of the outcome, it was a good thing.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor and dropped everything he was carrying as he saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall, just outside the apartment door.

His visitor raised his head, his eyes now visible beneath the long fringe of brown hair that had been concealing half his face.

"Quatre," the man said, his voice choking slightly.

Quatre closed his eyes and opened them. It wasn't a figment of his imagination.

"Dad."

tbc

~~~~~

My thanks to Natea for the line about a female with external plumbing. ;-)

Loki - first, let me say that I have always found Norse mythology far more complicated and confusing than Greek, Roman, or Egyptian mythology. Even in an attempt to briefly explain Loki, for those who need it, I am going to once again oversimplify things.

There are different classes of gods, the Aesir, or warrior gods, and the Vanir, gods of agriculture. Asgard is the residence of the Aesir, although there were a few Vanir that resided there as well. Loki is usually considered one of the Aesir, but he often has gone out of his way to act as their enemy.

The chief god of Asgard is Odin, who, with his brothers Vili and Ve, created the first humans. Odin's wife is Frigg (sometimes known as Frigga), the goddess of marriage. Frigg is also associated with love and fertility, and it is from her name that "Friday" is derived.

The death of Balder - Balder, the god of light, was plagued by dreams of his demise, and was troubled by them. In order to seek protection for Balder, Frigg called forth all flora and fauna and other perils - fire, water, serpents, stones, trees - all swore an oath not to harm Balder. The Aesir would often amuse themselves by throwing all manner of things at Balder and attacking with various weapons. Of course Balder escaped harm each time.

This upset Loki for reasons known only to him, and he disguised himself as a woman and went to Frigg to ask what the Aesir were doing to Balder. She explained the oath, and he managed to find out that only the mistletoe had not sworn an oath, feeling it could not bring harm to Balder and therefore not bothering.

Of course Loki took advantage of this bit of knowledge and brought the mistletoe to an assembly where the Aesir were again amusing themselves by throwing things at Balder, all except for one, Hodur, who was Balder's brother. Loki asked why he was not participating and he explained that he was blind. Loki helpfully offered to assist Hodur in locating Balder, and gave him a dart of mistletoe, which Hodur aimed at Balder with Loki's help. The dart pierced Balder and he died, and Hodur was blamed.

Anyone familiar with Marvel Comics must know that Thor is the thunder god.

After all that, I can see myself some evening, when I'm bored, sitting down and associating the various GW characters with some of the gods and goddesses of Norse mythology. Be afraid, be very afraid!

Albatross - something that causes persistent deep concern or anxiety; something that greatly hinders accomplishment

The Sam Keen quote on love is from the book To Love and Be Loved.

The Barry Manilow song, because you KNOW you wanted to know where the lyrics came from, is Somewhere Down the Road.