[GW] A Different Kind of Valentine (1/1)
Title: A Different Kind of Valentine (1/1)
Author: Sailor Seraphim
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: 4+D+4, 4+3 implied, D+R implied.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Warnings: Philosophical pondering, het!kissing
Notes: The bunny to this fic bit me on the ankle and wouldn't let go, hence, I wrote it. It's a bit
different for what I usually write (well, maybe not). I'm an avid yaoi fan, so pulling *this*
scenario off was a first for me.
Summary: A little bit of closure for two different people, who may end up having more in common than they thought.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Quatre Raberba Winner was painfully aware of the fact that he was in dire need of sleep. Or, in the very least, a good jolt of caffeine. He had been so busy running Winner Enterprises, Incorporated -- always rushing off from one place to the next, personally attending meetings where another member of the board could have easily taken his place. But Quatre was not the former Master Winner -- the blond young man preferred to take matters of business into his own hands, even if it was hell on his schedule. Right now Quatre was running late for the newest trade tariff meetings that were due to start in a few minutes.
So, Quatre found himself running through the Trade Embassy's hallways, barely stopping to flash his credentials at the security guards. Unfortunately for the exhausted billionaire, the catch on his briefcase had chosen the most inopportune moment to fly free, spilling all of his paperwork across the hallway of the 29th floor. Quatre had motioned his advisors and directors on ahead of himself and assured them that he would join them in the Grand Conference Room on the 30th floor -- albeit late.
Managing to pick up all of his papers in his arms, and resisting the urge to kick his briefcase down the hallway, Quatre let himself into one of the conference rooms that were on this floor. He dumped the whole stack of charts, trade invoices, and treaties across the dark varnished wood of the long conference table and wearily dropped into on of the chairs. Covering his face with his hands, the Arabian took a number of deep, calming breaths before trying to sort through all of his information again.
Still, Quatre was quite proud of the fact that he had not let himself go completely to seed. Paper-pushing businessman though he was, Quatre also managed to help the Preventers whenever he
was called upon. So, perhaps it was that ingrained and finely honed instinct within Quatre that alerted him of the other presence which had entered the room. Continuing to shuffle his files and pretending not to notice the other person, the Arabian could detect the faint scent of roses and lilacs -- a fragrance which instantly set off a set of memories in his mind. Therefore, Quatre was not surprised when he heard a familiar voice intone his name.
"Quatre Raberba Winner."
"Dorothy Catolonia," the blond man nodded courteously, finally lifting his head to watch the European woman enter for a brief moment before trying to organize his work again.
Dorothy slipped easily into the room, a forked brow raising over her stormy eyes. She watched Quatre go through his papers quietly until the blond businessman sighed and looked up from his task.
"I'm so flattered you remembered my name," the woman said.
"How could I ever forget?" the Arabian asked archly. His words were loaded with meanings and not all of them polite, but Dorothy shrugged it off.
"Touché," she replied and stepped closer.
Feeling slightly uneasy and resisting the urge to rub his chest, Quatre stood up from the desk. He wasn't prepared to look *down* at Dorothy's upturned face. How long had it been since he had last seen this woman face to face, Quatre wondered. A few years, at least. It was mildly surprising that he now towered over the blonde woman. Dorothy Catalonia was by no means petite; she held herself with a grace and pride that made her already slim form statuesque and imposing. She had been some inches taller than him during the war, and now Quatre's six-foot frame seemed to tower over Dorothy's 5'7".
If Dorothy was impressed by Quatre's new appearance she made no indication of it. "I'm shocked, really. What are you doing at a sundry trade tariff meeting when you should be with your lover? It *is* Valentine's Day, after all."
Quatre bristled at Dorothy's taunt. She was baiting him for some reason. The Arabian did not have the patience, at the moment, to argue with the European woman over trivial things. It was much like their duel on Libra, except with words and not rapiers. And Quatre vowed not to lose *this* fight. He calmed himself and replied easily, "I could ask the same question of you, Miss Catalonia."
The blonde woman's eyes widened for a brief instant before her pale pink lips twisted in an
enigmatic smile. "I will not ask how you know of my liaisons, Master Winner, especially since great pains have been taken to conceal them from public view. But, your question is simple to answer. I am simply filling in for Miss Relena. She takes far too much on her shoulders and scheduled herself to be at two places at once. And as amazing as our Vice Foreign Minister is, even *she* cannot break the laws of physics. I shall see her later tonight in Prague, once this silly meeting is over."
"Prague? So Miss Relena is attending the humanitarian summit?"
"You seem surprised."
With a shrug of his shoulders, Quatre returned to skimming through his papers. He knew that the simple pretense of not giving Dorothy his full attention would incense the woman. "No, not really. I just thought she would be attending the Mars Colony talks in Buenos Aires."
"Who's to say that she won't?" Dorothy snapped out, her voice carrying a trace of heat.
Quatre just smiled. "Then perhaps I will run into her there. I, too, will be leaving directly after this meeting."
"To visit your lover?"
"Would it disappoint you if I said yes?"
"Who said I would be glad if you said no?"
With a soft sound that was halfway between a sigh and a laugh, Quatre finished organizing his files. He began to stack them into his briefcase once more. "I'm surprised that after the Wars you would end up being Miss Relena's major domo."
"A notable attempt at changing the subject, Master Winner. One that I shall overlook at this moment and answer your unsaid question." Dorothy clasped her hands behind her back and strolled over to the large picture window, gazing out over the business sector of New Berlin. "I have had a slight... change of mind over the way I view the world."
"You don't say? Does this mean that you no longer think war is beautiful? Miss Relena *does* advocate peace."
Dorothy shot Quatre an unreadable look before gazing out of the window yet again. "Hm. Perhaps a strict change of view is not appropriate. I merely... look at things differently. War is beautiful because it is fought, because people believe in an ideal and would give their lives up for it. It is the struggle of the people that makes war beautiful, Master Winner, but not just war itself. So, I still believe that war is beautiful under those limitations. More appropriately, I now believe that conflict is beautiful. It strengthens the human soul and gives a person something to strive for. That is beauty."
Quatre nodded slightly, crossing the room to stand beside the blonde woman. "And I still believe that people should not have to fight at all. Not if it can be helped. There is so much to turn to before taking up arms and killing."
"And you would be an expert in that," Dorothy said softly.
Quatre winced. "And I would say the same of you," he replied, his hand unconsciously drifting to his stomach, rubbing idly against a long healed scar.
Dorothy saw the motion, her stormy gray eyes drifting down to where Quatre's pale hand stood in contrast to his dark linen suit. Tossing her long silvery blonde hair, Dorothy watched the people far below her going about their daily business. "Perhaps. But you cannot argue that for a person to have enough conviction to fight for what they believe in... for them to turn against the world that has raised them... to sway the masses... that takes a special, strong type of person."
"No, Miss Catalonia. I cannot argue with that at all."
"So now you see why I love Miss Relena so. She has that sort of strength... to lead the world to a place where there will be no more bloodshed. Where there will be peace."
"But I thought..."
"You assumed." Storm gray eyes flashed briefly in anger before settling. "I think that is what I did not understand about Mister Treize. He loved people so much. He loved their spirit, their drives, their *souls*. And he believed that in battle, those people reached their fullest potential. It was that which he found beautiful. I was foolish in my youth and thought he only loved war. War is beautiful, yes. But now... now I see that peace is beautiful as well. And conflict exists in both worlds, whether it is a soldier wielding a sword in battle or a farmer who tills the soil. There is conflict everywhere, Master Winner."
"And only by overcoming such daily trials does the human soul achieve true beauty. There is truth in your words, Miss Catalonia." Quatre sighed, his eyes traveling up from the busy streets below to the placid blue sky. "I wondered, once, what I was doing piloting a Gundam. I was only one person and I did not know of the existence of the other Gundam pilots at the time. I wondered what, exactly, one person could do in bringing down a world regime. There were so many times that I thought my battles would be hopeless... that I was throwing my life away for a dream."
"Then why didn't you stop?" Dorothy prompted.
"Precisely because I *was* fighting for a dream. I believed that the colonies should be free of outside influences, whether the Federation or OZ. I didn't want to see the colonies bathed in unnecessary bloodshed. I took up the battle to protect, even if it meant dirtying my hands in the process. Strangely enough, I nearly killed Trowa before I realized that my actions were *not* in vain."
"So, you also believe that to struggle against conflict is a worthy effort."
"Yes."
They two blondes stood side by side, framed by the large picture window with the afternoon sunshine streaming in. As the minutes passed by neither spoke but they both seemed to understand each other. Finally, the spell was broken and they both moved out of the spacious office and towards the wooden door. As Quatre held the door open for Dorothy to step out before him, the blond woman stopped on the threshold, one slim hand clutching the door frame.
"Master Winner?"
Quatre paused, still holding the door open, staring at Dorothy's turned back. "Yes, Miss Catalonia?"
"Why *are* you at this meeting?"
Quatre blinked. "To follow the latest tariff legislation, of course."
The European woman whirled around in a swish of pale blonde hair and long skirts. She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, posh. You can afford to miss one meeting and have your time better spent with one that you love. I'm sure you have other members and advisors to WEI in the meeting at this very moment. We *are* over an hour late for opening proceedings, you know."
"And if I may ask, why are *you* at this meeting, Miss Catalonia?"
"Why, what are you implying, Master Winner?"
"I'm sure that both you and Miss Relena have qualified delegates standing in the meeting as well. Thus, you can miss one tawdry trade meeting as well. Since you were so aware of our tardiness and yet did not say anything about it, that begs the question that you are here for other purposes. I don't think you came all the way to New Berlin just to talk philosophy with me."
With a slight smile, Dorothy leaned up on her toes so that she could look into Quatre's marine eyes. "Would it make you glad if I said yes?"
Quatre just bent down to match Dorothy's pale gray stare. "Who said I would be disappointed if you said no?"
"A wonderful answer."
And Dorothy leaned up, brushing her lips across Quatre's briefly. The kiss between the two was short and not unpleasant. It held the whisper of a promise -- or perhaps an understanding. As they broke off, they smiled at each other.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Quatre. Please tell Trowa Barton hello for me."
"And may you have a wonderful Valentine's Day as well, Dorothy. Give Relena my regards."
The blondes both stepped out of the office. Out in the hallway they shared one more look before heading off in opposite directions.
-- Owari --
Author: Sailor Seraphim
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: 4+D+4, 4+3 implied, D+R implied.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Warnings: Philosophical pondering, het!kissing
Notes: The bunny to this fic bit me on the ankle and wouldn't let go, hence, I wrote it. It's a bit
different for what I usually write (well, maybe not). I'm an avid yaoi fan, so pulling *this*
scenario off was a first for me.
Summary: A little bit of closure for two different people, who may end up having more in common than they thought.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Quatre Raberba Winner was painfully aware of the fact that he was in dire need of sleep. Or, in the very least, a good jolt of caffeine. He had been so busy running Winner Enterprises, Incorporated -- always rushing off from one place to the next, personally attending meetings where another member of the board could have easily taken his place. But Quatre was not the former Master Winner -- the blond young man preferred to take matters of business into his own hands, even if it was hell on his schedule. Right now Quatre was running late for the newest trade tariff meetings that were due to start in a few minutes.
So, Quatre found himself running through the Trade Embassy's hallways, barely stopping to flash his credentials at the security guards. Unfortunately for the exhausted billionaire, the catch on his briefcase had chosen the most inopportune moment to fly free, spilling all of his paperwork across the hallway of the 29th floor. Quatre had motioned his advisors and directors on ahead of himself and assured them that he would join them in the Grand Conference Room on the 30th floor -- albeit late.
Managing to pick up all of his papers in his arms, and resisting the urge to kick his briefcase down the hallway, Quatre let himself into one of the conference rooms that were on this floor. He dumped the whole stack of charts, trade invoices, and treaties across the dark varnished wood of the long conference table and wearily dropped into on of the chairs. Covering his face with his hands, the Arabian took a number of deep, calming breaths before trying to sort through all of his information again.
Still, Quatre was quite proud of the fact that he had not let himself go completely to seed. Paper-pushing businessman though he was, Quatre also managed to help the Preventers whenever he
was called upon. So, perhaps it was that ingrained and finely honed instinct within Quatre that alerted him of the other presence which had entered the room. Continuing to shuffle his files and pretending not to notice the other person, the Arabian could detect the faint scent of roses and lilacs -- a fragrance which instantly set off a set of memories in his mind. Therefore, Quatre was not surprised when he heard a familiar voice intone his name.
"Quatre Raberba Winner."
"Dorothy Catolonia," the blond man nodded courteously, finally lifting his head to watch the European woman enter for a brief moment before trying to organize his work again.
Dorothy slipped easily into the room, a forked brow raising over her stormy eyes. She watched Quatre go through his papers quietly until the blond businessman sighed and looked up from his task.
"I'm so flattered you remembered my name," the woman said.
"How could I ever forget?" the Arabian asked archly. His words were loaded with meanings and not all of them polite, but Dorothy shrugged it off.
"Touché," she replied and stepped closer.
Feeling slightly uneasy and resisting the urge to rub his chest, Quatre stood up from the desk. He wasn't prepared to look *down* at Dorothy's upturned face. How long had it been since he had last seen this woman face to face, Quatre wondered. A few years, at least. It was mildly surprising that he now towered over the blonde woman. Dorothy Catalonia was by no means petite; she held herself with a grace and pride that made her already slim form statuesque and imposing. She had been some inches taller than him during the war, and now Quatre's six-foot frame seemed to tower over Dorothy's 5'7".
If Dorothy was impressed by Quatre's new appearance she made no indication of it. "I'm shocked, really. What are you doing at a sundry trade tariff meeting when you should be with your lover? It *is* Valentine's Day, after all."
Quatre bristled at Dorothy's taunt. She was baiting him for some reason. The Arabian did not have the patience, at the moment, to argue with the European woman over trivial things. It was much like their duel on Libra, except with words and not rapiers. And Quatre vowed not to lose *this* fight. He calmed himself and replied easily, "I could ask the same question of you, Miss Catalonia."
The blonde woman's eyes widened for a brief instant before her pale pink lips twisted in an
enigmatic smile. "I will not ask how you know of my liaisons, Master Winner, especially since great pains have been taken to conceal them from public view. But, your question is simple to answer. I am simply filling in for Miss Relena. She takes far too much on her shoulders and scheduled herself to be at two places at once. And as amazing as our Vice Foreign Minister is, even *she* cannot break the laws of physics. I shall see her later tonight in Prague, once this silly meeting is over."
"Prague? So Miss Relena is attending the humanitarian summit?"
"You seem surprised."
With a shrug of his shoulders, Quatre returned to skimming through his papers. He knew that the simple pretense of not giving Dorothy his full attention would incense the woman. "No, not really. I just thought she would be attending the Mars Colony talks in Buenos Aires."
"Who's to say that she won't?" Dorothy snapped out, her voice carrying a trace of heat.
Quatre just smiled. "Then perhaps I will run into her there. I, too, will be leaving directly after this meeting."
"To visit your lover?"
"Would it disappoint you if I said yes?"
"Who said I would be glad if you said no?"
With a soft sound that was halfway between a sigh and a laugh, Quatre finished organizing his files. He began to stack them into his briefcase once more. "I'm surprised that after the Wars you would end up being Miss Relena's major domo."
"A notable attempt at changing the subject, Master Winner. One that I shall overlook at this moment and answer your unsaid question." Dorothy clasped her hands behind her back and strolled over to the large picture window, gazing out over the business sector of New Berlin. "I have had a slight... change of mind over the way I view the world."
"You don't say? Does this mean that you no longer think war is beautiful? Miss Relena *does* advocate peace."
Dorothy shot Quatre an unreadable look before gazing out of the window yet again. "Hm. Perhaps a strict change of view is not appropriate. I merely... look at things differently. War is beautiful because it is fought, because people believe in an ideal and would give their lives up for it. It is the struggle of the people that makes war beautiful, Master Winner, but not just war itself. So, I still believe that war is beautiful under those limitations. More appropriately, I now believe that conflict is beautiful. It strengthens the human soul and gives a person something to strive for. That is beauty."
Quatre nodded slightly, crossing the room to stand beside the blonde woman. "And I still believe that people should not have to fight at all. Not if it can be helped. There is so much to turn to before taking up arms and killing."
"And you would be an expert in that," Dorothy said softly.
Quatre winced. "And I would say the same of you," he replied, his hand unconsciously drifting to his stomach, rubbing idly against a long healed scar.
Dorothy saw the motion, her stormy gray eyes drifting down to where Quatre's pale hand stood in contrast to his dark linen suit. Tossing her long silvery blonde hair, Dorothy watched the people far below her going about their daily business. "Perhaps. But you cannot argue that for a person to have enough conviction to fight for what they believe in... for them to turn against the world that has raised them... to sway the masses... that takes a special, strong type of person."
"No, Miss Catalonia. I cannot argue with that at all."
"So now you see why I love Miss Relena so. She has that sort of strength... to lead the world to a place where there will be no more bloodshed. Where there will be peace."
"But I thought..."
"You assumed." Storm gray eyes flashed briefly in anger before settling. "I think that is what I did not understand about Mister Treize. He loved people so much. He loved their spirit, their drives, their *souls*. And he believed that in battle, those people reached their fullest potential. It was that which he found beautiful. I was foolish in my youth and thought he only loved war. War is beautiful, yes. But now... now I see that peace is beautiful as well. And conflict exists in both worlds, whether it is a soldier wielding a sword in battle or a farmer who tills the soil. There is conflict everywhere, Master Winner."
"And only by overcoming such daily trials does the human soul achieve true beauty. There is truth in your words, Miss Catalonia." Quatre sighed, his eyes traveling up from the busy streets below to the placid blue sky. "I wondered, once, what I was doing piloting a Gundam. I was only one person and I did not know of the existence of the other Gundam pilots at the time. I wondered what, exactly, one person could do in bringing down a world regime. There were so many times that I thought my battles would be hopeless... that I was throwing my life away for a dream."
"Then why didn't you stop?" Dorothy prompted.
"Precisely because I *was* fighting for a dream. I believed that the colonies should be free of outside influences, whether the Federation or OZ. I didn't want to see the colonies bathed in unnecessary bloodshed. I took up the battle to protect, even if it meant dirtying my hands in the process. Strangely enough, I nearly killed Trowa before I realized that my actions were *not* in vain."
"So, you also believe that to struggle against conflict is a worthy effort."
"Yes."
They two blondes stood side by side, framed by the large picture window with the afternoon sunshine streaming in. As the minutes passed by neither spoke but they both seemed to understand each other. Finally, the spell was broken and they both moved out of the spacious office and towards the wooden door. As Quatre held the door open for Dorothy to step out before him, the blond woman stopped on the threshold, one slim hand clutching the door frame.
"Master Winner?"
Quatre paused, still holding the door open, staring at Dorothy's turned back. "Yes, Miss Catalonia?"
"Why *are* you at this meeting?"
Quatre blinked. "To follow the latest tariff legislation, of course."
The European woman whirled around in a swish of pale blonde hair and long skirts. She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, posh. You can afford to miss one meeting and have your time better spent with one that you love. I'm sure you have other members and advisors to WEI in the meeting at this very moment. We *are* over an hour late for opening proceedings, you know."
"And if I may ask, why are *you* at this meeting, Miss Catalonia?"
"Why, what are you implying, Master Winner?"
"I'm sure that both you and Miss Relena have qualified delegates standing in the meeting as well. Thus, you can miss one tawdry trade meeting as well. Since you were so aware of our tardiness and yet did not say anything about it, that begs the question that you are here for other purposes. I don't think you came all the way to New Berlin just to talk philosophy with me."
With a slight smile, Dorothy leaned up on her toes so that she could look into Quatre's marine eyes. "Would it make you glad if I said yes?"
Quatre just bent down to match Dorothy's pale gray stare. "Who said I would be disappointed if you said no?"
"A wonderful answer."
And Dorothy leaned up, brushing her lips across Quatre's briefly. The kiss between the two was short and not unpleasant. It held the whisper of a promise -- or perhaps an understanding. As they broke off, they smiled at each other.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Quatre. Please tell Trowa Barton hello for me."
"And may you have a wonderful Valentine's Day as well, Dorothy. Give Relena my regards."
The blondes both stepped out of the office. Out in the hallway they shared one more look before heading off in opposite directions.
-- Owari --