Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ The Divine Comedy ( Chapter 62 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 62 of 64?

~~~~~

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.

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.

Pairings to date: 2x1x2, 3+4, 4x3, 5+M/5xM, 9+6, past 2xH, past 4x1

Archived at:
http://www.atsui.org
http://sweetlysour.net
http://theforsa kenwk.com
http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com

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

~~~~~

Chapter 62 - The Divine Comedy

Quatre Winner thanked the gentleman who opened the door to Duke Dermail's estate and invited him in, as he was shown to the library to await Dorothy Catalonia.

He'd wanted to show up unannounced, to surprise her, but he prided himself on showing proper decorum. Almira's influence, to some extent, but he considered it a matter of personal pride as well. He respected that uninvited guests often put a host in an uncomfortable position, and although he was sure he could use every advantage, it wasn't worth it to him to be discourteous.

She hadn't sounded surprised when he'd phoned, but Dorothy had a way of saying one thing and meaning four others.

As he waited, he eyed the books on the shelves, but again, he felt it poor etiquette to make himself at home by turning his back toward the entry where his hostess would arrive. At least in this case it wasn't just a matter of being polite; it made good tactical sense.

"Quatre Raberba Winner," she greeted him. He hated to admit it, but the way she intoned his name had always sent a chill up his spine. She was the only one to say it like that, with just the right mix of veiled contempt and smugness, all with a veneer of sophistication.

~~~~~

"Been a while, Yuy," the make-up artist commented as he tilted Heero's head from side to side, examining his facial features.

Heero grunted. If it were up to him, it'd be even longer. Preferably never.

The wardrobe consultant was discussing possible locations for his wire with the surveillance technician as Heero suffered the discussion of his facial features and hairstyle.

"This is good," the hairstylist commented, running her fingers through his bangs. "Healthy hair is always easiest to work with. Unless we're going for a complete shave up top?"

He listened carefully to all the options available, especially regarding which things were reversible and which were not. The last thing he needed was something that would be easily identifiable later on.

The worst part was that now he was going to owe Noin that damn cup of Starbucks coffee after all.

~~~~~

If there was one thing that Quatre had learned about Dorothy in all their years of acquaintance, it was her love of a good fight.

Which is why he'd suggested the chess game that they'd been engaged in for the last hour.

Admittedly, he was milking each and every move he made. He didn't really need that much time to deliberate, and he suspected she knew it, but he did use the time in between each move to study his opponent.

Had he had any heterosexual leanings, perhaps he'd have been attracted to her that fateful summer when Almira began her less than subtle matchmaking efforts. The pale coloring on anyone else would look washed-out, but Dorothy had what one would call 'presence.'

She was not the sort of person who could walk into a room unnoticed.

Physical attraction, however, was not enough to forge a lasting partnership, romantic or otherwise. Dorothy was manipulative, and although Quatre had exercised many of the same skills, their motivations were vastly different.

He slowly removed his fingers from his pawn and waited.

The triumphant gleam in Dorothy's eyes was expected, as was the sudden recognition that Quatre had set her up as soon as she began to make her countermove. Her fingers were still on her chess piece, and she smiled as she returned it to its original square and took a look at the chessboard once more.

Perhaps they knew each other better than either gave themselves credit for.

Another hour went by, occasionally punctuated with a sarcastically smug comment by Dorothy or a calm observation of Quatre's regarding her strategy.

It was Quatre's turn when Duke Dermail returned.

Dorothy seemed both reluctant to call a halt to their game and pleased that neither of them had managed to claim a victory in the time they'd been playing.

"Interesting that you prefer not to sacrifice your pawns," she commented. "The first line of defense is often the most expendable."

Quatre smiled, not his usual warm smile, but the one he'd used when he'd baited Trowa. He remembered an Italian proverb he'd heard, and he repeated it now.

"When the chess game is over," he said, making direct eye contact with Dorothy's cool blue eyes, "the pawns, rooks, knights, bishops, kings, and queens all go back into the same box."

"Each time a new chess game is begun," she replied. "Both players start with all the same pieces, regardless of how many wins and losses have been acquired previously." There was a flicker of amusement and something that, on anyone else, Quatre would have called fondness. "We've not yet completed our game, Quatre Winner. I look forward to resuming it in the future."

It wasn't until later that evening, when Quatre was lying on the bed of his hotel room staring at the ceiling and waiting for room service to bring his meal, that he realized two things.

The first was that Dorothy was using the chess game as a euphemism for their relationship as rivals - personally and professionally. If she knew about Quatre's temporary stint as a prostitute, she was not going to use that as a means of bringing him down.

The second was that it had been the first time in all their years of acquaintance that she'd addressed him without use of his middle name.

He and Dorothy would never be friends, but as he'd come to find out, there were some relationships that defied such convenient labels.

~~~~~

"Stop fidgeting, Noin."

"I don't fidget."

"Too much nervous energy is going to give you prematurely gray hairs, 'Neesan."

At the unexpected nickname, she turned her computer chair to face Heero, who was leaning against the printer table with his arms crossed. She shrugged off the momentary surprise his words caused and let her eyes travel up and down his body, then laughed. "Too easy."

He scowled at her. "Trade?"

Her amusement hadn't faded. She held up her fingers and ticked off each reason.

"You don't have the history with Khushrenada that I do. You're better at pulling this off than I am. And no, Heero, even if you went to California disguised as me," here she stopped counting on her fingers and stood up, looking down her nose at him, "too short to pull it off." She stepped back. "Your hair, that is. These bangs aren't long enough."

"You're a horrible liar, Noin."

"Which is just one more reason why you're the best choice. Face it, Yuy, if I have to stop fidgeting, you have to stop whining about your assignment and pay up."

"I don't whine."

"And I don't fidget."

"I have told you how much I hate you today, right?"

"Same you, Yuy."

"Noin - you'll do fine."

"Gonna go into your little imperfect love spiel again?"

"Truth is truth, no matter how tidily it's summarized."

"How can I argue with that logic?"

"I ask myself the same question every time you try."

~~~~~

Hilde fiddled with Duo's radio again.

"Looking for anything in particular?" he said, not taking his eyes from the road.

"Something just for you, Duo. How about some nice techno music?"

"I will kill you."

"Country western?"

"Then I'll dismember you."

"Or I could serenade you a cappella..."

"And feed the pieces to a pack of rabid weasels. Remind me again why I agreed to go with you to this thing."

"Because you owe me."

"Women," he snorted.

Duo understood exactly why Hilde had wanted him to accompany her. She didn't just want a date, she needed someone who knew how to mingle and someone who could watch her back, so to speak. He'd not realized how easy these events were for him, really. As a wealthy and successful CEO, he had to deal with the fawning attention from those attempting to curry favor. As a man, he found himself in situations like he'd been in with Rita Landry, feigning sexual interest just enough to gain an ally but not enough to make an enemy.

Hilde, on the other hand, was a representative for a much smaller company, and she had the unpleasant task of trying to get noticed. How she did it and managed to retain her dignity and pride, he didn't know.

Thinking of Rita Landry, however, made him think of the art gallery where he'd last seen her, and the art gallery made him think of Heero's pensive expression as he'd examined the broken pencil sculpture.

If he'd truly wanted a reconciliation with Hilde, honestly desired it with all of his heart, could it ever have been salvaged, after all the mistakes made?

Heero had found that sculpture interesting, but had thought it was ugly as sin. He'd said something about finding it symbolic.

Duo had nearly forgotten about the sculpture, because shortly after that, Heero had been accosted by that Hispanic man. Duo suspected, even then, that there was more to that little encounter than met the eye. He'd filed that away in his mind, one more thing that added to the intrigue of Heero Yuy.

When had Heero stopped being a puzzle to be solved and started becoming more?

He recognized the signal that Hilde was giving him from across the room and made his way to her side to play the game. He was a master of it, after all.

~~~~~

"That was painful," Hilde commented as he unlocked the door to the car.

"You deliberately inflicted that pain on me as well," Duo said dryly. "You really must love me."

"I'll make it up to you," she said. "Give me the keys."

"Driving me home in my own car is going to make it up to me how, exactly?"

"Not going to your place, and you know my car is in the shop. I really am a better date than this."

"To yours, then? To bestow me with benefits?"

"Get in the car, pig," she said, removing the dangling keys from his fingers.

"We really would have been a much better match in college, I think," she said. "Where did you go again?"

The casually asked question made Duo realize how little they'd shared of their pasts. Had he ever been curious about where Hilde had gone to school the way he had about Heero?

Hilde noticed Duo's preoccupation when he failed to answer her, but he did get into the passenger side once she nudged his shoulder.

The evening was nothing more than yet another excuse to make contacts and sell herself the same way a prospective employee did at a job interview, but in a social setting. The trick was to be remembered for the right things.

She drove for a while before heading down a little side street and parking in a tiny lot. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It's fine to leave it here, Duo. We used to do this all the time in college."

"Your car was also most likely a Ford Pinto."

"Duo! That's like accusing me of being much older than I really am. You don't suggest a woman is ancient like that."

"You women have too many rules to follow," Duo complained. "Do you all sit down and compare notes?"

"Like guys don't gossip either," she said. "Face it, Duo, there are fewer gender differences than you'd like to believe."

As they walked down the street and toward what Duo realized was nothing more than a pub, he mulled over what she'd said. Perhaps she was on to something. Now that he wasn't sleeping with Hilde, he felt he knew her better than he had over the past three years. If not for the fact that they were spending more time together now than they had before they'd 'broken up,' he might've thought they had little more than a physical relationship from the start.

"Oh," she said as they reached the door. "It's not the Inferno anymore."

Duo looked up at the sign over the door and agreed that it was not.

"Well, it doesn't matter, I'm sure it's still a big college hangout." He followed her in.

It smelled just like most bars, although there was not yet a heavy scent of smoke in the air. It was early yet, he supposed. He expected to see the local university students arrive in small packs.

"There won't be any decent drink specials on the weekend," Hilde mused. "That's when they do their best business without needing the lure of the one-dollar beers or two-for-one well drinks."

"In that case, think we can afford it?"

She punched him lightly in the arm. "I'm getting you the cheapest beer on tap if you keep that up."

"You come here a lot when you were young and innocent?"

"I did," she said, not taking the bait. "We could shoot some pool if you'd like."

He shrugged. He wasn't quite sure what Hilde was up to, but it seemed like a weird nostalgia trip at the very least.

Hilde got change at the bar and handed him some quarters. He took the hint and walked toward the closer of the two pool tables. The one furthest in the back was already in use. He quickly took stock of his surroundings and noticed the faded sign over the hallway leading to the rest rooms.

Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate.

A faint memory tugged at him, but he put it aside as he inserted the quarters and unhooked the triangle hanging under the table.

"You going to break?" Hilde asked as he finished racking the multi-colored balls.

"I'd say ladies first..." he began, only to receive a withering glance in return.

"Go for it, Maxwell," she said smoothly. "Loser buys the next round."

It was with good humor that he went to pay his debt at the end of their first game. He noticed a sign over the bar similar to the first one, this one a bit smaller to fit all three lines of verse. There seemed to be a theme here, but at the moment it escaped him.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita

mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,

ché la diritta via era smarrita.

His attention was diverted once again by a trio of boisterous young men all similarly dressed in T-shirts and loose fitting jeans. His eyes assessed them all quickly and wrote them off as being of no significance, although he supposed, from an aesthetic point of view, the dark-haired one was passably attractive.

Hilde commented on them as she racked for their second game. "What do you think, Duo? . Maybe I should see if it's true what they say about younger men. They're still at their sexual prime at that age, I hear." She glanced at him briefly. "Not that you've passed yours, of course, Duo."

"Of course."

It was oddly relaxing, to simply 'hang out' as he'd once done with those he'd considered friends at one point in his life. Now and then Hilde would seem to take brief notice of one man or another, and Duo didn't feel the slightest bit insulted. Not because they weren't together anymore, but because he realized he was doing the same thing. Hilde was one of three women in the bar at this hour, and she was by far the most attractive. If she were here with other women, he had no doubt she wouldn't need to buy her own drinks.

The no-smoking ban had yet to go into effect, so Duo suspected that he and Hilde would take their leave once the bar started to fill up and patrons took advantage of the remaining time they could indulge that vice in public places. Neither of them was overly fond of the heavy, clinging scent of cigarette smoke that they brought home on their clothes and in their hair.

The thought of having to wash the stench from his hair before going to bed made him groan inwardly.

That's when he noticed a different scent filling his nostrils. Not tobacco, certainly, but neither was it the sickly sweet odor of marijuana. It made him think of baked ham, and then it clicked.

Cloves.

His eyes drifted toward the source of the aroma.

A blond youth in a too-tight T-shirt had his back to Duo. His thumbs were hooked into the pockets of his baggy cargo shorts, the clove cigarette dangling from the fingertips of his right hand.

Duo allowed his eyes to quickly travel over the boy's frame, from the grungy backward baseball cap to the overpriced leather sandals before he turned his gaze back toward Hilde.

His brief perusal had noted a slender build and two tribal tattoos...one at the base of his neck and the other in a band circling his left biceps.

"Ever think of getting a tattoo, Duo?" Hilde asked conversationally. She'd obviously given the youth a once-over of her own.

"Yeah," he said derisively. "A big red heart made of flowers, right here," he tapped the outer edge of his left arm. "With a big pink ribbon that says MOM in black letters."

She started laughing.

"No, really," she said. "I've always wanted something like that."

"Which one?"

"Either."

Duo flicked his eyes at the tattoos again, but it was difficult to see much of the one hidden between tufts of hair and the shirt's crew neck.

"I mean the style. Something tribal like that. No colors - just black."

He nodded. He could see where it would appeal to Hilde - the intricacy of the designs unhindered by pretty colors, and yet even in monochrome, something that was full of meaning. "Where would you get it?"

She grinned at him. "Nowhere you'd be able to see it."

"I thought we were friends," he wheedled.

"If and when I ever decide to go through with it, Duo, I'll let you go with me to see what I pick out."

"You mean you'll drag me with you in case you chicken out. Don't you have any girlfriends to do the fem bonding with?"

"You're more fun, though."

Her words made Duo feel very warm indeed.

~~~~~

Duo's attention kept flicking toward the door whenever someone new came in, and it wasn't much later when a dark skinned man, one with a husky, muscular frame, joined the boy they'd noticed earlier. He was dressed in a dark shirt and slacks, striking the right balance between casual and sleekly elegant.

The younger man had turned to face the newcomer, and Duo could see tufts of blond hair framing his face, most of it poking through the back of the cap he was wearing. A couple of gold earrings winked at him from the boy's right ear.

Was this a lover's tryst? Duo tried to read their body language, but at present they weren't standing very close to each other. He'd always been curious about how gay men in a relationship acted in public. At least he had been since California.

Duo didn't care for the boy's choice of attire, but he had to concede the youth was attractive. His snug-fitting shirt proudly proclaimed he was a student at F.I.T. Most definitely gay, Duo decided.

His eyes flicked back toward the swarthy gentleman. Of a darker complexion than the college student, despite what appeared to be a spring break tan, the man had full, lush lips and a strong jaw line. His nose seemed slightly off center, most likely broken in the past, and his hair was darker than Wufei's.

Duo didn't doubt that this man didn't lack for attention in bed. The slightly crooked nose worked with the rest of his face, keeping him from looking too exotically beautiful.

An attractive man, Duo supposed, but not particularly his type. He supposed he must have a type. Didn't all men?

Hilde couldn't help noticing the way Duo kept checking out the two in the corner, just like he had done every time an attractive man walked into the bar. If she hadn't been watching Duo intently, she'd not have noticed, because he was careful not to stare too long.

Had he checked out other women this way when they were together?

An angsty rock song came on the jukebox, and a young couple got up to dance as soon as it started. Hilde supposed 'dancing' was a nice way of putting it. They seemed to be doing little more than groping one another. She and Duo exchanged disapproving glances.

Hilde noticed Duo once again indulging in a rather recent habit, and she met Duo's questioning glance with a tilt of her head toward the area designated as a dance floor.

He frowned slightly, and she gave him her best sly grin. Duo Maxwell hated to back down from a challenge.

She draped her arms over his shoulders and he put his hands on her waist awkwardly. Dancing had never been something Duo was fond of and she suspected he was regretting accepting her nonverbal dare.

She moved closer and his hands slid behind her in a loose embrace. She murmured into her ear, "give you any ideas?"

Duo snuck a few glances at the couple separated by only their clothing, practically dry humping in plain sight. It was damned disgusting, and he manuevered himself and Hilde so he was facing away from them. He noticed some movement near the door as an attractive young blonde entered the bar with two rather nondescript looking females. Most definitely not his type, he decided, although the blonde had the figure that most men preferred - big breasts, a tiny waist, and clothes to emphasize both. She said something to her companions and walked over to the gentleman in black. He seemed rather smug. The blond youth was nowhere in sight.

Duo couldn't help wondering if they'd had a spat, and again wondered if they were lovers. The younger one seemed to have no issue with maintaining appearances. Perhaps it was a matter of confessing how he felt, only to discover that the object of his affections was straight. He supposed that would be rather awkward, not to mention painful.

Hilde managed to turn them so she didn't have to stare at the groping couple any longer, and they were once again visible out of the corner of his eye. He smirked at the thought of the buxom blonde and the mystery man engaged in a similar act. Then he imagined what it might look like between the man and his previous companion.

Duo wondered what it would feel like if he were dancing with either of them instead of with Hilde, followed immediately by the thought of would feel like to do so with Heero. He snorted at the very idea.

"Not quite the same as when we were that age, is it?" Hilde said softly. He shook his head. Yet the two of them remained standing there, swaying together slightly, both lost in their own thoughts.

That last day with Heero, they'd not really done anything special, unless he counted all the extra attention Heero lavished on him when he least expected it. He thought he might like to feel Heero's body flush against him again, but he might be just as physically responsive with any man, if the right parts were stimulated. Or Hilde, if he wanted to tread down that path again. No, it was more than a physical attraction.

He'd tried to forget that day, but constant reminders plagued him. The smug look on the stranger's face reminded him of Heero. The young man's clove cigarette reminded him of Heero's abhorrence of drugs. The blonde bombshell's appearance reminded him of Janet and her damned purple Dodge theory. The Scrabble games with Hilde reminded him of things like macrophallus...

And was Hilde trying to cop a feel?

Thankfully he wasn't a teenager anymore, although he had felt a small glow of warmth in his belly as he'd remembered the extracurricular activities with Heero, especially with the rather amorous couple who were still trying to merge into one body, undeterred by the presence of others. It would have been rather embarrassing to surprise Hilde with something pressing against her thigh, but he was long past the stage where he was unable to control his urges in public. He suddenly realized what Hilde was up to and he pulled away, but not before it was too late.

She sat down as if nothing had happened. He sat across from her and waited.

"Look at me, Duo."

He could feel the tick in the side of his jaw as his lips clamped together tightly, but he knew she was holding all the cards this time. She leaned forward and peered into his eyes, studying them carefully.

"They're still the same old blue," she announced. "Not green, not brown, not purple, no magic eight ball."

She could be quite annoying when she wanted to.

"But perhaps they will be later?" With that, she brandished the item she'd removed from Duo's pocket.

He reached over and snatched the contact lens case from her as if afraid she'd indulge in a playground game of keep-away.

To his surprise, she said nothing more about it. He rubbed his thumb over the raised L before sliding it back into his pocket.

"You come here much when you were in college?" he asked smoothly, ignoring the fact that she'd pretty much answered that question earlier.

"Yeah," she said. "It was pretty cool. It had a hellfire and brimstone theme - like we're all doomed anyway, so why not go out in style. Very popular with the younger twenty-somethings."

"Hilde...you took Latin, didn't you?"

"Lived, breathed, ate, and drank it for a while. All I got out of it was a handful of decent proverbs and appreciation for Latin poetry. Catallus was one of my favorites, though," she replied. The braying laughter of one of the three college students who'd entered together earlier made her cringe and she flicked her eyes in their direction meaningfully. "For example, risu inepto res ineptior nulla est."

"Something about a donkey?" he guessed.

"You really are fun, Duo. 'Nothing is sillier than a silly laugh,' but you're close in spirit if not in meaning. Did you know that he had an affair with a woman named Clodia?"

"Him?" Duo blinked, then realized she was talking about the poet. "Oh, Catallus."

"Know what Catallus called her?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

Her eyes twinkled in amusement. "Lesbia."

He ignored the implications of that bit of trivia. "How good are you at translating?"

"Depends. You have something in mind?"

"Dum spiro, spero," he said slowly.

Hilde's brows furrowed. "Damn it," she muttered. "I should know this one in my sleep. It's quite common." She uttered a few more expletives under her breath. "This is awful," she grumbled. "The harder I try, the more elusive it is. This is an easy one. It's like asking someone to remember what s'il vous plaît means, for crying out loud."

A heated debate was going on at the bar. Several rather young bar patrons were pointing at the sign and arguing over what it meant.

The dark-haired gentleman that had caught Duo's attention earlier spoke. The blonde was no longer in his company. His deep voice held a trace of an accent, but Duo couldn't place it.

"Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita," he intoned. "The opening of Dante Alighieri's Commedia. Usually translated as 'Midway on our life's journey, I found myself in dark woods, the right road lost.'"

"Yeah!" one of the students nodded excitedly. "Now I remember. My older brother mentioned that other sign that used to be here."

Hilde and Duo both cast their glances toward the rest rooms. When they looked at each other again, Duo noticed that the man was no longer standing near the bar.

"'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,'" Hilde murmured. "That sign used to be the first thing you saw when you walked in. It was always looked upon as some sort of dare." Her expression was slightly nostalgic, then her face lit up.

"Ah! That's it!"

"It?"

"Hope! How could I have forgotten? Dum spiro, spero. 'While I breathe, I hope.' Rather uplifting sentiment. A counterpoint to the sign over Dante's entrance to Hell."

While I breathe, I hope.

Duo's breath caught in his throat, and he exhaled slowly.

"Duo?"

He smiled at her. "I breathe."

tbc

~~~~~

I feel like one of those pre-adolescents who e-mail Adult Swim asking to have their "shout outs" posted, but after seeing some reviews of other stories, what the hell. They made me feel good.

Nods of appreciation for the following, all of whom have recently validated (or continued to validate) my opinion that 1x2 versus 2x1 is irrelevant, as long as they're together and they're both men! In alphabetical order because I'm anal that way: Asuka Kureru, Kagemihari, Link Worshiper, Merith, and Natea. I think this is where I blow kisses to you all using both hands. Er, yeah. Moving right along...

~~~~~

'Neesan - older sister

F.I.T. - Fashion Institute of Technology

Dante's Divine Comedy was apparently titled just "Comedy" and the "Divine" was later added.

Interesting thing I stumbled across in my search for the original Italian verbiage - Dante was quoted as saying: "Nothing which is harmonized by the bond of the Muses can be changed from its own to another language without having all its sweetness destroyed."

Fortunately for many of us, we've reaped the benefits of many a translated works, and perhaps nothing can ever capture the spirit the same way entirely, but imagine how much the monolingual among us would have missed out on!

Not that anyone particularly cares, but I used Robert Pinksy's translation of the opening of Commedia. Just in case anyone else saw it translated differently.

Yeah, this chapter was the reason I never translated "dum spiro, spero" back in chapter 49 (Transition Elements) - although I understand a good number of you didn't want to wait and went and googled it.

What else? If you were wondering, the etymology of "lesbian" does NOT come from Lesbia - it originates from the island of Lesbos in the Aegean Sea, where the poetess Sappho resided. Whether the nickname Lesbia was influenced by that...I'm too lazy to research any further...plus it's kinda funny to make up my own interpretation of why Catallus called his married lover by that name.

And apparently some of the poetry Catallus dedicated to Clodia were in the style of Sappho.