Today our theme is going to be proverbs or cliches - taken as literally or figuratively as you'd like. Any fandom, any pairing. Please follow this format to help the code-monkeys
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This sort of got side-tracked half way through. Sorry about that. It's been ages since I wrote 3x4. Oh, this made me feel nostalgic.
*
“Master Quatre...”
“Mr Winner, I need to ask you about…”
“Excuse me, sir, but could you spare a few moments of your time?”
“Mister Winner, sir?”
“Boss?”
All day every day, he was surrounded by people. Tall, short, fat, thin, male, female, rich, poor. They knocked on his office door, phone him up, snagged his arm as he was walking down a corridor. People everywhere. They would smile at him and ask politely after things, but that was just the preamble. They were all after something: a raise, a job, an interview.
People, people everywhere and not a one who gave a crap.
Although that wasn’t entirely fair, the maguanacs who still hung around - Rashid and Auda and a few others, they cared. But still - he felt, detached. Alone in his glass tower, surrounded by sycophants. He was the richest man in the earth sphere, the most popular man on the colony. He was invited to all the best parties and he was friends with all the right people - according to The L4 Times anyway.
Didn’t stop him from being lonely, though.
His true friends dropped in from time to time, but their visits were barely noticeable compared to the great periods of nothing.
He sighed and reshuffled the papers in front of him. Quatre Raberba Winner, was pretending to work. His father would have been appalled… Duo would laugh, Heero would get that tiny little frown he always did when something did not quite add up. Wufei would nod sagely and argue some point about all work and no play. Relena would sympathise and Trowa…
“Master Quatre?”
“What is it now?” he snapped without even thinking. It was probably a good thing that it was Rashid at the door and not his secretary, the last time he had snapped at her he has spent a day trying to apologise. Rashid, at least, understood that sometimes he needed to scream at people. “I’m sorry, Rashid. What did you want?”
“I thought maybe you might need some time off,” his giant bodyguard said calmly.
“Thanks for your concern, Rashid, but I’m fine.” He picked up a form deliberately and began to read it intently.
“Yes, Master Quatre, but I though you might like to know that The Circus is in town.”
Quatre froze where he sat. He had become so worked up in everything that he had not even known about that. He looked up slowly and said, with deliberate nonchalance.
“The Circus?”
Rashid smiled, seeing right through him as ever.
“Yes, Master Quatre.”
“On second thoughts, Rashid,” Quatre said, placing the paper down on his desk - real wood, hideously expensive on the colonies - just as deliberately as he had picked it up. “Maybe a break would do me some good. Do you know how I could get a ticket?”
“You won’t need one,” a familiar voice said, and the door was pushed further open to reveal a welcome figure.
“Trowa?” he asked, his jaw almost dropping open.
“Hello Quatre,” Trowa said with a small smile. “The schedule got changed.” Quatre was up and around his desk before Trowa could explain further, pulling him fully into the room.
“Rashid, could you tell Elizabeth to cancel all my appointments,” the blond said, not taking his eyes off Trowa. “I think I’m going to be busy.”
“Yes, Master Quatre.” Rashid said with a smile, allowing the door to swing closed behind him.
*
“Master Quatre...”
“Mr Winner, I need to ask you about…”
“Excuse me, sir, but could you spare a few moments of your time?”
“Mister Winner, sir?”
“Boss?”
All day every day, he was surrounded by people. Tall, short, fat, thin, male, female, rich, poor. They knocked on his office door, phone him up, snagged his arm as he was walking down a corridor. People everywhere. They would smile at him and ask politely after things, but that was just the preamble. They were all after something: a raise, a job, an interview.
People, people everywhere and not a one who gave a crap.
Although that wasn’t entirely fair, the maguanacs who still hung around - Rashid and Auda and a few others, they cared. But still - he felt, detached. Alone in his glass tower, surrounded by sycophants. He was the richest man in the earth sphere, the most popular man on the colony. He was invited to all the best parties and he was friends with all the right people - according to The L4 Times anyway.
Didn’t stop him from being lonely, though.
His true friends dropped in from time to time, but their visits were barely noticeable compared to the great periods of nothing.
He sighed and reshuffled the papers in front of him. Quatre Raberba Winner, was pretending to work. His father would have been appalled… Duo would laugh, Heero would get that tiny little frown he always did when something did not quite add up. Wufei would nod sagely and argue some point about all work and no play. Relena would sympathise and Trowa…
“Master Quatre?”
“What is it now?” he snapped without even thinking. It was probably a good thing that it was Rashid at the door and not his secretary, the last time he had snapped at her he has spent a day trying to apologise. Rashid, at least, understood that sometimes he needed to scream at people. “I’m sorry, Rashid. What did you want?”
“I thought maybe you might need some time off,” his giant bodyguard said calmly.
“Thanks for your concern, Rashid, but I’m fine.” He picked up a form deliberately and began to read it intently.
“Yes, Master Quatre, but I though you might like to know that The Circus is in town.”
Quatre froze where he sat. He had become so worked up in everything that he had not even known about that. He looked up slowly and said, with deliberate nonchalance.
“The Circus?”
Rashid smiled, seeing right through him as ever.
“Yes, Master Quatre.”
“On second thoughts, Rashid,” Quatre said, placing the paper down on his desk - real wood, hideously expensive on the colonies - just as deliberately as he had picked it up. “Maybe a break would do me some good. Do you know how I could get a ticket?”
“You won’t need one,” a familiar voice said, and the door was pushed further open to reveal a welcome figure.
“Trowa?” he asked, his jaw almost dropping open.
“Hello Quatre,” Trowa said with a small smile. “The schedule got changed.” Quatre was up and around his desk before Trowa could explain further, pulling him fully into the room.
“Rashid, could you tell Elizabeth to cancel all my appointments,” the blond said, not taking his eyes off Trowa. “I think I’m going to be busy.”
“Yes, Master Quatre.” Rashid said with a smile, allowing the door to swing closed behind him.
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