Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Restless Peace ❯ The Catalonian Threat? ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: See prologue.

Pairings: 1xRP, 2xOC, 3xMU, 4xDC

Period: January 2, 197 to January 10, 197

 

 

Restless Peace: The Catalonian Threat?

 

“You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist.” -Indira Gandhi

“One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one.” -Agatha Christie

 

02 January AC 197—La mansion de la familia de Cataluna (Catalonia Family Mansion), Barcelona, Kingdom of Catalonia, Former Spain

“I can't believe you did that,” Quatre Raberba Winner ranted, “What were you thinking? What if something happened to the baby?”

“Quatre, I'm okay. Did you really think I was just going to sit around while you all `saved the day'?” countered Dorothy Catalonia.

Quatre's eyes softened as well as his disposition, “You're strong-willed, I know that, but I thought you would stay home, like I asked, for the sake of the child.” He pulled her close with his arms around her, nuzzling her neck a bit, and she smiled softly.

“The baby's fine,” she insisted, “I would never do anything to endanger our child.” She stroked the nape of his neck.

“I know you wouldn't, not intentionally,” he ensured, falling more into her control, “but what if something unexpected happened? Like a solider with a gun or something? I couldn't bare it if anything happened to you or our child.” Dorothy smiled and reassured him that she was never that close to any of the fighting or soldiers. To assure she was still with him, she brushed her lips against his before firmly planting them on his. His arms instinctively went around her slim frame, and his hands searched her body for the most pleasurable places to reside. She moaned softly in his search and unbuttoned his shirt, never keeping her lips too far from his. Knowing what would happen next, he steered them to the couch, lowering them down onto it. Their breath became more ragged as their bodies came closer and closer. It was in this moment that Relena Darlian walked into the room; her face burned red immediately.

“Oh!” she exclaimed with embarrassment, “Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just came to find Dorothy.” Her cheeks became faintly pink. Quatre and Dorothy separated and took different cushions; Quatre wiped some lipstick off his lips with the back of his hand then smiled at Relena.

“It's okay, really, Miss Relena. You can steal her if you want, just be sure to return her.”

“A relative of hers is, well, asking for her up in Lady's office, and he's causing quite a stir,” Relena explained, apologizing still in her face, “We only need you for a bit. I promise. Lady thinks if you're there, he may stop threatening to assassinate everyone in the building.”

Dorothy chuckled, “Let me guess. This man is about as tall as my grandfather, full head of white hair. He has a leaner build, though, with a mustache only, and he is probably wearing an old army uniform; however, you can't really tell which army it came from? His voice would be raspy but strong, and he leans on a cane with a lion head for the handle. He'll wave the cane around when he gets exceptionally ill-tempered.”

“Yes, how did you know?” Relena questioned, “You must know your relatives very well.”

“Only Tio Henry would come this quickly,” Dorothy informed getting up. She patted Quatre's head and put on her jacket leaving with Relena. They climbed into the back of Relena's limousine.

 

“So what exactly got my uncle so upset? Not that it takes too much.”

“News has spread of your engagement to Quatre and of your carrying his child. He is, well, agitated that you didn't call him to tell him, and he doesn't quite believe it either. He also wants to know what Lady did with your inheritance,” Relena explained as the limousine sped along the superhighway to reach Paris 832 kilometers away.

“I can understand about my engagement and pregnancy; he doesn't watch television anymore. It would probably be a couple weeks before the servants congratulated him on it anyway. But what is this about my inheritance? I never gave Une anything of the sort.”

“You were given the remaining Romefeller troops, correct?”

“I received more than that. However, yes, I was,” Dorothy assured, “But they are gone. I think my fiance and his friends took care of that, as well as your government.” She smiled.

“Yes, I know,” the Vice Foreign Minister sighed, “He sees that as they were under Une's orders. He blames her.”

“Well, I'm not surprised he's doing this,” she admitted, “However, I didn't see this coming.” They talked for a couple hours, but they slept for the last three hours before finally arriving at Paris.

 

02 January AC 197—Preventers' Headquarters, Paris, former France

Dorothy checked her hair in the mirror one last time as the limousine slowed down in front of the Preventers Headquarters. She and Relena slid across the seat; the duchess remembered her old governess' words about ladies and sliding across car seats as they came to her ears. She put a hand over her eyebrows as she gazed up as the glass and mirrored steel building. The sun set the white words “Headquarters of the Department of Earth Sphere Defense and Investigation: Preventers' Bureau” ablaze.

The ladies climbed the steps and entered the steps of the building. People strolled through the lobby; children excitedly cried out, pointing to paintings, people, and other random items that piqued their curiosity. A few youngsters, mainly little girls, spotted Dorothy and Relena instantly. They jumped up and down, tugging on their parent's arm, and pointed toward the girls. They squealed and begged to go over and to get an autograph or to talk to them, especially to former Queen Relena Peacecraft. Relena smiled at the children benevolently, and she sent the parents sympathetic glances. Dorothy inwardly sighed. She nodded to the people who happened to recognize her, but she was fighting a sudden wave of nausea. She went back through her last couple of meals, but she was unable to find what caused this abrupt sickness. Morning sickness struck her as a thought much later than it should have.

“It'll be okay,” Relena soothed as the elevator shuddered into life, “You can stop by the restroom if you need to before we go in to see Une.” Dorothy nodded her thanks as all her concentration was now on keeping her meals inside herself. It was no wonder Relena knew what was wrong without even asking. The doors slid open, and Dorothy bolted from Relena's side into the restroom. She went too quickly to notice that on this high of level there were only official Preventers, higher officers at that. Inside the plush restroom, Dorothy threw up into one of the immaculate toilet. She had only enough time and enough mind to pull back her long blonde hair before she retched.

Relena waited patiently outside the restroom doors. As ladies walked in and out of the lavatory, mainly out, Relena could hear the vomiting. As it started to sicken her, she moved to sit at an empty desk. Only two pictures sat on the desk. One was a picture of an older, probably middle aged couple; they were in each others' arms with their cheeks touching each other, smiling at the camera. The other photograph was one of a young girl, probably around four or five. With the wind blowing her strawberry blonde hair, just like the man in the other picture, behind her, the little girl seemed to be giggling with sparkling eyes.

“Ah, uh, miss?” asked a man in his early twenties, “I see you found a good resting place.” He smiled at her; he had a sleek physical form that fit quite easily into the Preventer's uniform. He had slanted teal eyes that sparkled mysteriously, and his hair was short and umber. Relena looked at him, and her heart seemed to ache. He had an air of romance around him, and after all that had happened in the past few months, she wanted some romance to take her mind off things. Before Relena could respond, Dorothy barged out.

“I'm ready, Miss Relena,” she announced, all redone to look presentable. She flipped her hair back out of her way.

Relena stood and nodded her head; reading his name on his desk, she apologized, “I'm sorry for taking your desk for a few minutes, Mr. Logan.”

“My pleasure, miss,” Carson Logan insisted, “I just hope you'll let me say goodbye when you leave.” He flashed a smile. Relena made a note to go visit him while Dorothy was busy with her uncle. Walking down the corridor to Une's office, Relena noticed Dorothy glowed with motherhood for the first time. They whispered reassurances to each other as the door to the Head Office came closer.

 

“I demand that you produce my niece this instant!”

“Dorothy is on her way,” Lady Une assured the old man.

“Miss Catalonia to you,” he corrected. He had just finished waiving his cane when she came in the office. He was sitting down in his chair in front of Une's desk. He turned with a sour look to see who was interrupting. His face brightened, somewhat, at the sight of her. He gave one last scowl to Lady.

“Tío Henry, I'm here. What do you want?” Dorothy asked as she walked in the office. Both Henry Catalonia and Lady Une stood as she entered with Relena.

“Dorothy! ¡Mi sobrinita!” he called as he hugged her tightly, whisper in her ear. Dorothy felt him smell her hair, probably checking to see how well she was doing.

Relena excused herself and left, her job done. Dorothy helped her uncle sit down back in his chair and sat in the free one next to him. Lady set to arranging her papers on her desk, letting uncle and niece get briefly reacquainted.

“Lady, I apologize for anything my uncle has said or done,” she explained, “Tio Henry—”

“Oncle Henry,” he corrected.

“Oncle Henry,” she continued, rolling her eyes some, and sped up her English so that the elderly man could not keep up as well, “Sometimes he forgets how to behave properly. He's all alone in his house, except for servants, and he's become quite senile. His children died in the wars, and none of them lived long enough to give him grandchildren. He's become overly protective of his younger nephews and nieces.”

Lady nodded, “Je comprends.” She switched to French in hopes of Henry not catching.

“You understand what?” his head jerked up.

“Nada, Tio,” Dorothy told him patronizingly, “Usted necesita ir a casa. Es hora para su siesta. ¡No hable con Une en vez de mi primero!”

“Remember what I said!” Henry spat at Une as he turned to leave with his niece. He took Dorothy's arm as soon as he heard a click of a door shutting. They got down the hall, and she pressed the down button on the elevator. She got him into the elevator glancing in time to see Relena talking to the man whose desk at which she had been sitting. Relena gave a flip of her hair and the doors closed. Down in the lobby, they crossed floor as quickly as Henry's legs would allow. She was less recognizable to the small children without the Vice Foreign Minister and ex-Queen at her side. Once outside, Oncle Henry insisted on a walk by the small park across the street before he got in the car for another five hour drive. Dorothy decided to call Quatre and let him know what was happening while her uncle's bodyguards/servants helped him cross the busy street.

“Now, what is with this rumor about you and the Winner heir?” Henry asked as they walked on the sidewalk.

“Quatre and I are having a baby,” she informed.

“And has the boy proposed?”

“He has.”

“And?”

“I accepted.”

He chocked and coughed, enough where Dorothy sat him down on a bench. As he caught himself and a servant brought more oxygen, his eyes became more jagged and sharper in their gaze at her. She inquired why.

“He was a Gundam pilot, was he not?”

“Yes, he was.”

“He is responsible for killing your parents, grandfather, and your cousin! How can you—cough—be with him?”

“He is not like that at all. Quatre is very sweet, and…the war killed them, not the Gundams.”

“Stupid girl! Let the enemy seduce you so easily,” he chastised, then added again, “Noia estupida!”

“The war is over, Tio.”

“Bah!” Cough. “Never give in, Dorothy. Never!”

 

05 January AC 197—Apartment 312, Gentle Springs Apartment Complex, Colony V-68498, L-3 Colony Cluster

Midii Une lounged safely in her new apartment. Her brothers were helping her mother and father with the family mansion and her cousin down on Earth. Her boyfriend's help with the Preventers earned enough money to get a decent apartment with decent furniture. Though she had been forced to miss out on the action a few weeks ago, her boyfriend, his friend, and the friend's girlfriend were at the apartment now. She had company for the first time, and she was determined to have it go exceptionally well.

“This place is great,” Duo Maxwell's girlfriend Niwanna Jones complimented.

“Yeah, the furniture is exactly how I like it,” grinned Trowa Barton proudly.

“No thanks to you,” Midii muttered. He teased her a bit, murmuring in her ear. His lips had been close to her ear to where they brushed against her lobe as the parted and moved to form the words. It caused her to shudder, which made him grin.

“So have you two had time to, uh, break this place in?” Duo asked, grinning broadly. He was lounged back in a chair with his feet resting on ottoman, crossed at the ankles. Niwanna gave his stomach a smack to have him sit up straighter. He beamed once more sending a wink to Niwanna. Trowa rolled his eyes when Midii looked but gave his friend a smirk and a nod as she turned her back.

“We should probably get going, or we'll never get to eat,” Trowa said, standing.

“Yeah, I'm starving,” Duo stretched as he rose, an arm slipping around Niwanna's waist.

“I need to dab on a bit more lipstick before we go,” Niwanna excused herself and headed for the bathroom. Duo groaned and rolled his eyes. Midii gave him a look that needed no translation. The phone rang, and Midii answered it, quickly handing it to her boyfriend.

“How are you and Niwanna getting along?” Midii inquired of Duo. Trowa had found her six or seven months ago, but she still had not spent much time with his friends and comrades from the war. When they had first met up, he had been on a day trip. Trowa had been at Preventers' Headquarters, and he had been taking a trip around former France during his days off. Seeing people moving out of a refugee camp, he had decided to stop and to help the refugees move back to their homes. While helping one of her refugee neighbours, he saw her trying to gather her little brothers into doing some actual work. The beginning of their relationship had been moving back into the family mansion. The Une family had scattered their belongings among many tents. After moving all their owned possessions back into the mansion, Midii and Trowa then set out to attempt to track down all the belongings that had been bought or stolen throughout the years. However, Trowa eventually had to go back to his surrogate sister and career in the circus. For a couple weeks, Midii followed along before returning to her family. Trowa decided to rent an apartment for times when the circus was on a break, or when he was on a break. Midii moved into the apartment, and there she stayed for the past month.

She has only met a couple friends of his, mainly from the circus. Duo and a quiet man named Heero Yuy were the only friends she had met personally. She knew Trowa was constantly on the phone with Quatre, and the two met quite often. However, she had yet to meet the former playboy, which was a funny title for him after Trowa explained what he knew about Quatre.

“Things are going well,” Duo said, nodding. “How's your cousin?”

“He's doing better. We're hoping he can be moved to my aunt's house, his mother.”

“That's good. Really, nice place. You're good for Trowa, and Quatre says he can't wait to meet the girl that's got Trowa talkative,” he grinned mischievously.

She chuckled, “I bet. I can't wait to meet one of the richest men in the Earth Sphere. My friends will absolutely die.”

“Ah, let me guess: they've practiced their kissing techniques with magazine pictures of his?”

“Oui, as well as what they'll say when they'll finally meet him,” she giggled, “They're all convinced they shall meet him somehow.” Duo shared a laugh with her and glanced at his watch impatiently.

“How long does it take to dab on lipstick? We're never going to eat.”

Trowa turned and returned to the conversation, “Don't worry, Duo. I'm sure the airline will have some lovely food.”

Duo made a face of disgust, “That's ok. We can eat here instead.” Trowa's face was all serious. “What is it? Who was on the phone?”

“Wufei,” he answered, “There's something serious going on down on Earth. They're asking for all of us.”

“Do you know what happened?” Midii asked.

“Une got a serious threat from someone, but Wufei wouldn't tell me more, afraid someone would tap into our conversation for some reason,” Trowa told them putting on his jacket, “Mid, can you pack a bag for me real quick while I get the tickets.”

“Only if you get me one, too,” she said defiantly. He honestly did not want her along since he knew there was a chance she could be hurt as someone was targeting him, but she was determined and he did not have time. Instead, he nodded. Duo, who had gone to check on Niwanna at some point, came back in the room. A strange expression was across his face.

“What is it?” Midii asked.

“Niwanna's refusing to come out of the bathroom,” he said slightly exasperated, “Apparently it's something about hating her hair.”

 

10 January AC 197—Preventers' Headquarters, Paris, former France

Heero went over the note many times in his strained head. They had been at it for days, and they had come up with nothing. Wufei was getting frustrated, and Duo was beyond cranky. Trowa seemed calm, but he rarely showed his emotions in situations like these. Quatre had come to help, but Une, Heero suspected some politicians and other bureaucrats as well, had insisted he stay out of it. Une and the Preventers could be attacked at any moment, and they did not want to add more to the scandal if Quatre were there and hurt as well.

“Who sent the note?” asked Relena during her short visit to deliver some papers from a colleague.

“It was anonymous,” Heero answered dully. Who knows how many times they had answered that question during the past five days. “Lady Une was doing some paperwork, and she found the note underneath some papers. We don't know who left it or when. No one has seen anyone out of the ordinary.”

Relena nodded, “Well, she and I are going out for some lunch.” She smiled, “You boys are welcome to join us.”

“Can you bring us back some food?” suggested Wufei. “We have orders to stay here until nightfall.” He smirked.

Relena took their orders. “Do you want anything else, Duo?”

“Nah, that's all I need. I need to stay here anyway. Niwanna's going to call me. She could be coming out of the bathroom any minute now,” he muttered. She looked to the others for an explanation, but they all seemed to think it was best not to give the details. With nothing else left, Relena went back to Lady and took her out of the building. They headed down the street, closely guarded of course, and entered the restaurant.

 

“Miss Relena! Lady Une!” a voice called out cheerily. The women turned.

“Quatre?” Relena said, “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I'm helping keep Midii, that's Trowa's girlfriend…I'm helping keep her entertained,” he clarified. “We both want to help, but we're not allowed to.” He smiled and looked over at the female restroom. “Here she comes with her friends, Sylvia and Amaya. I insist that you ladies sit with us.” After few mild protests from Relena and Lady, all six sat down at a table.

“What will your fiancee think of you, Quatre? Sitting to lunch with five ladies,” Relena smirked. Their waiter came, and Quatre ordered their food.

“Ah, she knew I was lunching with three lovely ladies, but she may get jealous of five, with no other man at the table,” his eyes sparkled with deviousness, “She may have to drive a fencing sabre through my stomach again.” A few of those present flinched involuntarily.

“Well, I suppose we should get on with introductions,” Relena suggested.

Quatre nodded, “Ladies, I would like to introduce you to Midii Une, Trowa's girlfriend and daughter of Philippe and Caroline Une, Sylvia Noventa, granddaughter of the late Field Marshall Noventa, and Amaya Vandivier, daughter of General James and Diana Vandivier. Girls, this is Lady Une, head of the Preventers, and Relena Darlian, Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs.”

“Queen Relena?” Amaya asked loudly, eyes wide.

“Well…yes,” Relena responded quietly, “but I'm not a queen anymore.” However, Amaya stared at her still in awe and amazement.

“She had the same reaction when she met me,” Quatre whispered to her.

“How is your grandmother, Miss Sylvia?” inquired Lady, eating some of the bread offered as an appetizer.

“She's fine, working out the rest of my grandfather's affairs,” she answered.

Sylvia leaned back to allow the waiter to set her salad in front of her. “So how is Heero Yuy? My grandmother and I were wondering that lately.”

“He works for me,” Lady said, “At least on a part-time basis. He shows up to lend his expertise and help on the more difficult missions, or when his new girlfriend prompts him to come.” She smirked on the last comment.

“Oh? Someone is brave enough to `train' him?” Sylvia asked, delighted.

“Yes, I am,” Relena smiled.

“You?” asked Midii surprisingly. “For some reason, I did not picture you two together.”

The former queen shrugged, “Wars bring together odd pairs.” Everyone at the table concurred.

“Some people think we, Dorothy and I, are an odd pair as well, Miss Relena,” Quatre consoled, “But I do not see either of us as such.”

“Thank you,” Relena said, “Are you seeing anyone girls?”

Sylvia giggled, “I just gave a boy my number in the girls' restroom. His name's Ben Logan.”

“What was he doing in there?” Quatre questioned with a frown.

“You don't want to know,” Midii shook her head.

Lady Une chuckled, “What about you, Miss, uh, Amaya, is it?”

The girl nodded, “Yes, and I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend yet. I have to be eighteen, my family's old fashioned rule. Anyway, I think the soldiers my father insists escort me scare most of the boys away.”

“My father was the same way,” Lady sympathized.

“What about you, Lady?” Sylvia inquired.

“Oh, I haven't had time to date lately,” she said dismissively, “First putting His Excellency's affairs in order, then building the Preventers, and now Mariemaia and I are getting to know one another. Not that I'm complaining.”

“Of course not,” Quatre agreed.

While munching on her salad, Relena glanced at Amaya. Something about the girl seemed familiar. “Do I know you? I mean, have we met before?” Amaya blinked a couple times as if trying to word her response.

“You may have seen her at your school in the Cinq Kingdom. She attended for awhile,” Midii replied.

“When I helped place the students in safe homes after the battle, I don't remember your being there,” Quatre said then dipped a tear of bread into his soup and popped it into his mouth. However, he though as he savored the flavor in his mouth, most of the girls were blonde, or at least light-headed, and they eventually looked the same to him.

“The, uh, soldiers recognized me and offered to take me back to my father. I thought that meant back home, so I agreed,” the girl explained then added almost hastily, “It seemed the safest way.” The others nodded in approval of her decision, so she returned to picking through her salad.

“Did that turn out not to be the case?” inquired Lady, eating the last leaf of lettuce with a crouton, “Where did you end up?” Amaya looked up again. Her face appeared to be full of dread at the thought of speaking to them once more.

“My father, as it turned out, was stationed in France at the time,” she managed to say, “The soldiers left me at the base near where my father stayed and went on their way. That was when I met up with Midii.” She nodded to the lean teenager sitting to her left. Midii nodded. Before she could offer her comment, a boom rocked the small restaurant and its street after it deafened the residents and tourists alike. From years of battles and wars, whether actually fighting in them or simply near them, the six jumped up to a guarded position, Quatre and Lady instinctively putting themselves in front of the young ladies where the source was heard. Midii hurriedly explained to the owner to bill her for the ordered food but that they had to leave before the main course. Une, Relena, and Quatre ran toward the smoke rising to the sky. When they found the source, they stopped in their tracks, the girls, who had followed a couple meters behind, nearly ran into them. Smoke and fire were billowing from an office near the top floor of the Preventer building. Though she could not be entirely certain from the ground and in the confusion, to Une it seemed that the office ablaze was her own.

She called in a loud voice for someone to explain. Duo Maxwell sauntered her way through the crowd. He seemed slightly dazed.

“No one was severely hurt,” he said almost automatically, “There're a few minor injuries, but the worst is a few scratches and a second-degree burn that Wufei got. Oh, you'll need to talk to Quatre.” He added as he pulled a piece of paper out of a pocket; his eyes continued to be glazed over. “We got this note open and read right before the bomb or whatever went off in your office.”

The note was simple and to the point, though elegantly written with a conditioned hand:

 

To Whom It May Concern:

Soon, or perhaps awhile ago, you shall see what happens when you mess with my family. Leave my niece alone, or I will strike again when Une is in her office. Or, perhaps I shall get the cute little “Vice Foreign Minister.”

Leave the family inheritance and business alone!

Remember my words,

Henry Catalonia

 

**Translation Notes**

Spanish:

Tio—Uncle

¡Mi sobrinita!—My little niece!

Nada—Nothing

Usted necesita ir a casa—You need to go home (polite)

Es hora para su siesta—It's time for your nap

¡No hable con Une en vez de mi primero!—Don't talk with Une instead of me first! (polite)

Catalan:

Noia estupida!—Stupid girl!

Oncle—Uncle

Other:

Je comprends—I understand (French)

832 km—517 miles