Love's Labours Lost Chapter 8 pg 1

[blackrose]

Title: Love's Labours Lost
Author: the Black Rose and Stella
Archive: FFN and Blissful Ignorance
Warnings: language. 9/11 reference.
Genre: Romantic Comedy. Drama. Au. Crossover.
Pairings: 4+D, Van + Hitomi (Escaflowne), Vash + Meryl (Trigun), passing mention of 1+R

Author's Notes: It wasn't planned, honest, but we realized that duh, anniversary...reference... It actually seems appropriate, even.

It's hard to believe it's been a year. And how much has changed since then? We saw the attack on Pearl Harbor as the end of an age of innocence - when we believed we were safe in our homes. How much more of a wake up call was last year's incident, when innocent civilians got in their cars, boarded the subway or even a plane to go to work only to become a casualty in a war they were not drafted to fight?

To all those who lost their lives. May we never forget.

Love,
Rose and Stella





Chapter 8



Lions Gate Apartments

Uptown NYC



?I don?t think so, fool.? The sound of rapid gunfire spilled out into the hallway, throbbing in time with the flickering of the television set. Vash sat firmly entrenched on the sofa, chewing on a salmon sandwich and wholly enraptured by the tenth episode in the ?All Day A-Team Marathon? he?d been watching since he woke up. To his surprise, he was feeling much better this morning, despite spending another heatless night the GLLC officers? personal indoor Arctic. He had to admit that Reporter Girl was a good cook, and her soup had done the trick. Hm, I wonder what Miss Meryl is up to today?.?

He frowned as Van walked in front of the screen, again ? this time carrying an armful of used soda cans and one of Heero?s half-dissected laptops.

?Hey, down in front! Mr. T was trashing the bad guys and I missed it!?

Van shot his roommate a withering glance, collected another can from atop the tv, and trudged out. Vash heard the sound of crashing recyclables from the kitchen and the slamming of the hall closet as Van unceremoniously deposited the gutted computer inside. The tester scrunched up his face, his eyes trailing after his friend as the marketing VP re-entered the living room and focused his attention on the dimmer switch. He tapped it lightly from left to right and back again, creating a subtle glow to combat the darkening sky just outside the window. Van mumbled under his breath, and he stood back and seemed to be studying the lamplight. His eyes continued to rove over the newly organized room as if examining and obsessing over each detail until finally discerning that there was something still not quite right.

?Vash, get out.?

The blond spikes turned in his direction. ?Huh? Why? What?d I do??

Van strode towards the sofa, straightening the disheveled pillows and smoothing the rumpled cushions. ?Hitomi, I mean, Miss Kanzaki is coming over this evening so that we can have another look at the marketing numbers for this new deal with PCC. We need it to be? quiet, so we can concentrate,? Van explained, pulling a pillow out from beneath Vash, who was promptly launched off the furniture and soon found himself on the floor staring up at a scowling Mr. Fanel. Van marched up to the television, switching it off just another A-Team episode started.

?Hey! Not Mr. T! Awww, c?mon!? Vash frowned and massagedhis bruised backside.

?Do you want Hitomi to go back and tell the Peacecrafts that we?re a bunch of slobs?? Van huffed, picking up his friend?s sandwich wrapper and throwing it at him.

?Well, we are pretty much a bunch of slobs,? Vash answered with a grin. ?And I?m still recovering from my cold. Do you want me to go out there and catch pneumonia? Would you be able to go on with my untimely demise on your hands??

Van fished out a half eaten donut from between the couch cushions and lobbed it in Vash?s general direction. ?Absolutely.?

?Take it easy! I?m going, I?m going.? He rose to his full height and glared down at Van. ?Concentrate, huh? Maybe I should stay here to make sure the only figure you?re going over is the one on the paper.?

Van?s eyes flashed, causing the grinning blond to take a step back. ?This is just business,? he spat out, the volume of his voice rising while he continued herding Vash towards the hall. ?I just don?t want any interruptions, alright? I want to get this contract thing settled so we can go on with our plans.?

Vash grabbed onto the doorjamb and leered at the marketing VP. ?To elope??

Van rolled his eyes and gave his roommate another shove. ?To take a break from this corporate insanity. Hitomi is here until the deal is done, after that, she?s not in the picture. This is all just a minor inconvenience.?

?Right,? Vash said as he was pushed into the elevator; his coat was thrown in after him. Picking up the jacket, he watched between closing doors as Van strode away, stopping only to check his image in one of the large hallway mirrors. ?Until the deal is done,? Vash repeated, feeling the rush of motion pulling him downwards. His own voice echoed in the elevator?s small space. ?Keep telling yourself that, my friend. Maybe you?ll believe it.?



* * * * *

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Downtown Manhattan



The museum lobby wasn?t very crowded and he spotted her right away. That fur coat and the cascade of platinum blond hair were very hard to miss. Quatre rubbed his icy hands together and glanced down at his watch. He frowned, thinking back to the impossible mid-town traffic and trying to stop his teeth from chattering as he walked across the expansive tile floor to where she stood. ?Miss Dorothy? I?m sorry if I?ve kept you waiting.?

She spun around; her bright smile warmed him instantly. ?Oh, not at all. I?ve only been here a few minutes. The expressway was really out of hand tonight.?

He nodded. ?I?m glad to hear that.?

Dorothy shot him a puzzled look. ?That traffic was a mess??

Quatre stared at her, forcing his brain into action. ?No! Uh? I mean, that you weren?t waiting long, I?m glad.?

?Oh.?

Quatre took a step back, trying to fill the moment of awkward silence with a glance around the building?s interior. It seemed to go on forever in either direction, the long, clean lines interrupted only by banners and signs advertising the latest special exhibits: Impressionists, Egyptians, Medieval and even historic clothing ? just to name a few.

?Where would you like to start, Miss Dorothy? From the looks of it, we could get lost for days in here.?

Dorothy?s gloved hand brushed against his cheek as a throaty laugh escaped her lips. ?Hmmm, I don?t think I?d mind that very much, would you Mr. Winner??

The CFO felt heat flood his face. ?I? well??

She laughed again. ?Well, why don?t we go get our coats taken care of and then we can decide. I figured we could grab a light dinner at one of the cafes here and talk about the contract, if you had any more questions.?

?That sounds fi-? Before he could finish his sentence, she had grabbed his arm and was leading him to the coat check stand.

?Actually, there is an exhibit on now ? art by some 20th century European artists, dedicated to their lovers.?

Quatre choked, possible examples of the subject matter flashing red-light warnings through his brain. ?Really??

?Yes. There?s a piece in there my mother donated to the museum in memory of my father. I wanted to see it on display.?

He smiled up at her and shrugged out of his jacket. ?I would? really like to see that with you, Miss Dorothy.?

She handed her fur over to the attendant and took the arm he willingly offered.

?I think it?s this way??

* * * * *



116th Street

Uptown NYC



The cool night air slapped his cheeks and the sounds of rushing cars on the city streets greeted him when he stepped outside. Vash squinted, craning his neck in an attempt to see whether his favorite donut shop was still open two blocks down the way.

?Come on, Mick-the-donut-man, don?t let me down ? you?re my last hope!?

Vash shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged forward, lowering his head against the frigid gusts of wind that came spiraling between the buildings as he passed. The streetlamps offered sparse illumination along his path, and lonely traveler walked along in silence, all the while casting wary glances at the dark, vacuous alleyways. His mind wandered through all the ways a poor, innocent and unarmed guy could meet an untimely end after being unjustly banished from his cozy apartment for the evening.

?Robbers,? he muttered, shivering, eyes darting nervously from side to side. ?Gangsters? murderers? aw man?? He very suddenly became aware of footsteps closing in fast behind him. He picked up his pace, all the while crafting a mental image of a burly, tattooed, knife-wielding psychopath hot on his heels. ?I hate confrontations... How could he do that? Throw his best buddy out into the cold?? Vash could see a long shadow stretching out into the street from behind. The shady figure was picking up speed and gaining on him. ?Van Fanel, if I die tonight I?m going to haunt you to your grave! Oh, why me! Gah! What was that? I?m gonna have a heart attack here!? The footfalls grew louder, and Vash stole a glance over his left shoulder, only to feel a vice-like grip clamp down on his right.

?Ahhhh!!! Please don?t hurt me! Here, take all my money, ok, well you can have most of it, I?d really like a donut ? just don?t kill me! I, uh, have a bunch of hungry kids to feed at home? Yeah! And a? kitty! That?s right, a little baby kitty! If I die they?ll be thrown out onto the street and left to? oh, it?s you.?

Meryl Stryfe rolled her eyes. ?Kitty? Is that the best you could do? Chicken is more like it! I can?t believe those three friends of yours let you out in public unsupervised. What the heck were you yelling about back there? You?re probably scaring all those poor defenseless criminals hanging out in the alleys.?

Vash lowered his arms, relief flooding through him as he focused on Meryl?s pursed lips and glittering eyes.

?I was, uh, um?? Gee, she?s a cutie? ?Keeping the streets safe for sweet and vulnerable damsels such as yourself. It?s awfully dangerous for you to be walking around alone at night, reporter girl; I strongly advise against it. You never know what kind of scary and unsavory freaks you could run into out here.?

?Yeah,? Meryl replied with a shake of her head, her gaze flew up at the tall blond as her mouth twisted into a smirk. ?Freaks, huh? You never can tell.?

?So, I can?t in good conscience let you continue unaccompanied,? Vash said, offering Meryl his arm, and straightening his posture while he sniffed at the crisp night air. ?I was just on my way Mick?s Donut-o-Rama to check on this evening?s supply of glazed and sugared, would you care to join me, madame??

Meryl let out a frosty sigh and linked her arm with his. ?Well, someone?s got to keep an eye on you and make sure you don?t get into any trouble.?

?Gee, thanks a lot,? Vash mumbled, but smiled at the warmth and comfort of her closeness on the desolate city street.

?Does this count as cheating?? he mused as they walked on. ?Nah? it?s a ?not-a- date? ? she was following me! Yeah! Completely not my fault!??



* * * * * *

Lions Gate Apartments



?Don?t even think about going out!? Van gave the thermostat a threatening glance before setting off on yet another impatient lap around the living room. The clock above the coat rack read 6:15 ? Hitomi was supposed to have arrived at 6. ?Huh, the one on the microwave only says 6:10, but the time on the VCR is 6:21.? He compared the time with the one on his wristwatch. ?Hm? 6:12?? A hand came up to run through his thick dark hair, and then found a nearby pillow with the intent to send it sailing across the room. ?Gah, where is she? And just what the hell time is it really!?

A sharp knock at the door made him jump and the marketing VP froze, the pillow still clutched in his fist. ?What the??

The sound repeated.

?Huh? Hitomi!? He skidded across the wood floor and flung the door open. Wide green eyes met his as her hair ruffled from the gust of air. Van cleared his throat and tried to relax his stiff pose into something more natural.

?Hey.?

Her cold-flushed skin seemed to glow in the hall?s dim light. ?Hi, Van. Sorry I?m a bit late, but I thought you might be hungry.?

?Oh, no problem at all, hadn?t even noticed the time. And I?m starved, actually,? he stepped back, gesturing for her to come in and eyeing the large white box she carried. ?And believe it or not, we haven?t had a chance to try any famous New York pizza, yet.? He glanced down at the pillow he still held and tossed it behind his back in the direction of the couch, giving his visitor an innocent grin.

Hitomi smiled, and seemed not to notice. ?Well, in my opinion, Vinny?s is the best.? She balanced the awkward container atop an armful of unsteady files. ?Where do you want me to put it??

Van blinked, then leapt forward. ?Oh here, I?ll get it. I?m sorry, please make yourself at home??

He swung the box out of her grasp and placed it gently on the counter. After rummaging around, he came up with the choice of two paper plates or two of Vash?s ?fashion? programmer Correlle-ware ?I code therefore I am? place settings. He opted for the two paper plates and an apologetic smile.

?Sorry about the ?dishes? ? or lack thereof,? he said as he handed the already grease soaked plate to the young woman seated on the couch.

Hitomi giggled and pried the pizza from his hand before setting it down on the coffee table. ?It?s okay. Paper plates are fine. Besides, you?re all bachelors. I?m surprised you have any plates at all.?

Van glanced around the apartment, and then back at Hitomi. ?Hey. I?resemble that remark. You should have seen me trying to clean up this place before you got here.?

?Oh, I can imagine,?

?Heero with his half dead machinery and Vash with his donuts and soda cans.?

?What about Quatre??

?Quatre?s neat as a pin, sometimes I even forget he?s here.?

Hitomi swallowed her first bite of pizza. ?Figures. And you??

Van let out a long breath and shrugged his shoulders. ?I try. I just get?preoccupied sometimes. But I?m pretty organized most of the time.?

?I see,? she bit her lip, and her eyes wandered in the direction of the kitchen. ?Speaking of soda cans, I don?t suppose.??
Van jumped to his feet. ?Oh! Drinks? right - what would you like??

?What do you have??

?Um, let?s see?? He hurried towards the fridge, grateful for the moment to hide behind the bulky white door and collect his thoughts. It had been a very long time since he?d been alone with a woman. His last relationship had ended in a disaster that could have cost him Heero?s friendship. He should have known. Millerna had always made him feel uneasy, inadequate. Hitomi just made him feel? Van smiled and peered into the fridge. ?Coke, Dr. Pepper, Diet Dr. Pepper, Jolt, Mountain Dew??

?I?ll take the Diet Dr. Pepper. Who drinks that??

?Vash,? Van snorted. ?He drinks just about anything carbonated with caffeine, and they were having a sale.?

?I?Thank you,? she said, her voice dropping to just barely above a whisper when his fingers grazed hers on the soda can. She stared at the floor, then took up her plate once again.

?You?re welcome.? He sat down next to her on the couch, and paused for a moment. He just watched her eat her pizza, green eyes wide and obviously enjoying every bite. ?And thank you.? He leaned closer to his companion..

She swallowed and took a quick drink of soda. ?For what?? She turned to face him and he realized they had somehow grown dangerously close. The logical side of him protested, telling him to back away. But the rest of him wanted so much to just lean those last few inches forward and kiss her glossy lips.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and sat up, forcing himself to look away. ?Thank you? For the pizza.?

She brightened and stood up to get them each another slice. ?Oh, no problem. It?s the least I can do, since you had to do all that cleaning for me ? and since I had to pass up lunch with you again yesterday because of my appointments. I would have really liked to go? with you, I mean.?

His mouth curled into a sad smile in response. He hadn?t dated anyone since Millerna, and there was definitely no comparing the two. Hitomi may not be as refined ? she didn?t mind her pizza on a paper plate, or drinking soda from a can ? but she had an elegance and beauty all her own. Van knew that she?d never treat him the way Millerna had; he couldn?t help but feel that with Hitomi, his heart was safe.

He sighed and turned towards the counter. His gaze meandered from the side of her face down the graceful curve of her neck, then travel further as he appreciated her thin, well proportioned?. He caught himself and forced his eyes to somewhere neutral. Her hand? which rested over the tower of files beside the pizza box, just above a tiny waist, nicely rounded hips and?

?Did you want to go over those figures now??

His eyes snapped up to meat hers. ?Wha-??

?Maybe I should stay here to make sure the only figure you?re going over is the one on the paper."

?Damn it, Vash.?

Hitomi made her way back over to the sofa. ?Excuse me??

What on Earth ever possessed me to listen to Heero and swear off of women for three years? THREE YEARS!

?Is something wrong??

He covered his eyes with a sweaty palm and sank back into the cushions. ?No. I?m fine. I suppose we should take a look at the contract, since that?s what you?re here for.?

A whisper of a touch grazed his shoulder, and he looked down to find her hand resting there. ?Van, if something?s bothering you??

He shot up, sitting rigidly on the edge of the couch. ?Hitomi, do you?do you date very much??

The hand fell from his shoulder and she turned away. ?I don?t really know what business that is of yours.?

?Humor me??

?Not much. I? I don?t have a lot of time.?

His gaze met hers then dropped to the floor. ?Do you think you?ll have a lot of time over the next?say, three years or so??

?Three years??

Van nodded.

?Well,? Hitomi put the plates down and smoothed her sweater. ?I had kinda hoped to be married before I was twenty-six, although it?s not exactly one of my high priorities right now. I?ve got work?.? She leaned forward and squinted at him. ?Why are you asking me this??

?I?m sorry. I have no right to pry into your personal life.?

?It?s?okay, Van.? He heard folders shuffling beside him. ?I, did you want to go over the contract, now??

Van could feel the frown tugging at his lips. ?Is that the only reason you?re here??

?What other reason should there be??

?I don?t know. I thought, maybe??

?Oh, I get it. That?s what this is.? A flurry of papers landed on his lap and Hitomi rapidly gained her feet. She scowled down at him, the soft luster in her eyes ignited into raging sparks. ?This is all just one big elaborate set up so that you can satisfy your ego. Do you think that just because I?m not as high up on the corporate ladder that I?ll just throw myself at you? Well, let me tell you, Van Fanel, all the money and good looks in the world won?t save you from being an egotistical jerk!?

She spun on her heel and headed for the door, snatching up her heavy coat along the way.

?Hitomi!? Van raced ahead and wedged himself between the angry woman and her exit. ?Please let me expl-?

?You?ve said quite enough, Mr. Fanel. If you think I?d do anything you want to get you and your friends to sign that contract, you are very mistaken.?

Van stood his ground as she tried to push passed him. ?That?s not what I meant. Hitomi, please don?t go. I?m sorry, I didn?t mean it like that.?

The fire was still burning in her eyes. ?Then what did you mean, Van??

?I meant?.I meant?oh hell, Hitomi,? his shoulders sagged and he banged his head on the door. ?I don?t know what I mean anymore.?

?Van??

He moved aside, turning so that his back rested flat against the wooden panel, pressing his weight against it to open it further . ?I? it?s alright. I understand, if you want to go ?? He closed his eyes, waiting to hear the rustle of fabric, the sound of her footsteps, to feel her brush by him and leave him? alone.

?Is there anything I can do? Maybe I can help if you just tell me what?s bothering you.?

?It?s not that simple.?

Hitomi drew in a deep breath and started through the doorway. ?I see. Well, maybe we should wait and go over this another time.?

?Wait.? He grabbed her hand and pulled her back inside the apartment, letting the door close softly behind them.

?Yes?Van??

He wet his lips and watched her eyes close, waiting for him to kiss her. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he leaned closer ? everything within him wanting to?.

The front door swung open with a furious bang, startling the pair away from one another. Heero stomped in wearing something even darker than his usual glare. His eyes seemed to narrow further as he regarded the female marketing rep. He paused, opened his mouth as if to speak, then spun sharply and continued to his room. Van frowned at his friend?s behavior.

?Is something wrong??

The president of GLLC stopped in his tracks, his head bowed as he called out over his shoulder. ?I?m fine.?

?Are you sure nothing?s wrong, Heero?? Hitomi?s voice rung out, sounding calm despite the hostile atmosphere. ?Maybe there?s something??

?What business would call your boss to Seattle on a Saturday??

?What??

Heero shifted where he stood and slowly turned to face the young woman. ?What business would call Relena to Seattle? What is it she can do that your CEO stationed IN Seattle can?t handle? I thought he flew back there this morning.?

?He did,? Hitomi answered. ?Maybe it was something she needed to handle in person. I? you mean she didn?t tell you??

?I didn?t get a chance to ask. She?s on her way to the airport right now.?

Hitomi shook her head.. ?Then I wouldn?t know. We have a number of Seattle accounts??

Van interrupted. ?But what about-?

??that Relena handles personally, and Milliardo prefers it that way.?

The marketing VP scratched his head. ?her brother?.?

?Will be retiring and leaving the company to Relena soon,? Hitomi added. ?It?s not common knowledge, and I shouldn?t even be telling you this, but?it?ll happen in the next year or two, depending??

?Depending on what?? Heero cut in.

?Er?a number of economic factors, and how quickly she adjusts to the added responsibility.?

Heero crossed his arms as he further interrogated the account rep. ?The man?s not even thirty and he?s retiring??

?Yes.?

Van watched his friend?s jaw tighten, uncertain of what might come next.

?Pathetic,? Heero spat. ?Relena has to work twice as hard so he can take off and spend the rest of his life on a permanent vacation.? He whirled around and stalked off, disappearing into his room. The door slammed behind him.

?You don?t understand?.? Hitomi trailed off. Silence settled over the apartment and she seemed to wilt where she stood.

Van breathed a heavy sigh and moved to her side. ?I?m sorry. I?he and Zechs have never gotten along.?

Hitomi blinked up at him. ?Zechs??

?Oh, Milliardo, I mean,? Van laughed. ?In high school, his nickname was Zechs.?

?Huh. What did it stand for??

Van smirked. ?It didn?t stand for anything, really, it was a nickname given to him by the cheerleading squad.?

?I don?t think I want to know, then.?

?Yeah. Heero used to call him Retch.?

Hitomi frowned. ?That?s not very nice.?

?You didn?t hear what he called Heero.?

?Don?t think I want to know that either.?

Van found himself chuckling, in part at her remark, and also at the very cute amused expression on her face. ?I?d say stay, and we could maybe continue our?discussion. But with Heero here, it?s probably not the best of ideas.?

?Walk me home, then??

Van?s eyes darted towards the master bedroom where the storm had touched ground and was either dissipating ? not likely ? or gathering force behind that closed door. It probably wasn?t such a bad idea to leave, and it would give him some time alone with Hitomi. He nodded once and gave her a small smile. She responded by tucking her arm into his and a pleasant warmth invaded his body.

This is not good. His more logical side whispered into his consciousness, causing him to stiffen momentarily at the contact. He looked down and saw her smile again, her eyes sparkling with something he didn?t have the presence of mind to name. He felt himself turn into some sort of mushy, illogically happy thing as logic checked out and his mouth turned up into an answering grin.

?My pleasure.?



* * * * * *

113th Street

Uptown NYC



?Hey, is it starting to snow? The weather reports were calling for flurries, but that looks like? good grief, what is that weird guy outside doing? He?s been standing there for a half hour ? he must be freezing!? Meryl turned her attention away from the man outside window and sipped her coffee, watching from her corner of the booth as her companion blissfully downed the remainder of the first dozen. ?Are you after some kind of world?s record? I have never seen a human being consume that many donuts at once. It just isn?t normal. You?re obviously feeling better.?

?Sure am. Your soup fixed me right up, reporter girl, thanks again.? Vash lifted his head and called out to the baker behind the counter. ?Mick, my good man! Another box of the glazed for me and a chocolate sprinkled for the lady!?

?Coming right up, Mr. Vash! Got some fresh ones in the back for ya ? just a couple of minutes til I pull them out of the fryer!?

Vash grinned and turned back to Meryl. The reporter felt a rush of heat in her cheeks and hoped the software tester hadn?t noticed her staring at him. She began toying with her pencil as she held it poised over her notebook, forcing herself to think only of the business at hand.

?Ok, time to hold up your end of the bargain. So? how?s that pact of your going?? she inquired, ready to make notes.

?Hey, none of that goes on the record, you know that!?

Meryl sighed, and slowly set her pencil on the table, raising her hands in a show of submission. ?Ok, off the record??

Vash?s lip quivered. ?? It?s terrible! Van?s such a grouch; Quatre seems depressed all the time. And Heero.? Vash shuddered. ?There is NO living with Heero. Fortunately he hasn?t been around much lately.?

?Oh, working hard on the PCC contract negotiations??

Vash grinned again. ?Yeah, I guess you could say that. Hey, do you need a refill?? he asked. It seemed to Meryl that he was a bit too anxious to change the subject. The reporter raised an eyebrow, but silently slid her cup across the table to be scooped up in Vash?s nimble fingers.

?Decaf, two sugars,? she reminded him. He nodded and made his way up to the counter where Mick kept the coffee pots

The bell on the door sang out, allowing the cold, howling air to sweep through the warm little shop. Wet soles of heavy boots squeaked and slid across the tile floor in a slow progression, and Meryl?s eyes followed their less-than-respectable-looking owner. She watched him fumble in his coat pocket and was sure she saw the distinctive outline of a weapon. The dark-haired woman paled, not uttering a word when Vash returned with their coffee.

?Here ya go,? he smiled, taking a seat. ?Hey, I wonder where Mick got to with those? What?s wrong??

?It?s that man,? Meryl whispered, pointing over Vash?s shoulder.

?What, what m-??

?Shhhhhhh! The man from outside. I think he?s got a gun. Just be quiet and don?t call attention to us.?

Mick reappeared from the kitchen with a fresh tray, and turned to greet the new arrival across the counter. ?Evening, sir. What can I do for ya??

A tarnished revolver greeted the shop?s owner. ?The register. Empty it.?

?Oh my God a gun!? Meryl felt her blood run cold as Vash leapt over the table and began pounding his fists on window beside their booth, garnering strange glances from passers-by. ?We?re gonna die! Mick?s being robbed! Help! Help? somebody!?

He?s going to get us shot!

?Shut up over there!? The stranger?s voice rasped across the room, grating over them like sandpaper. Vash froze, then slinked over the bench to sit beside Meryl.

?Way to not call attention to us,? she hissed.

The reporter watched Mick fumble with the register, and shifted her gaze to the intruder, noting how the man?s arm shook while he clasped the firearm in his trembling grasp. Greasy hair clung to his wind-burnt cheeks, a tattered baseball cap obscured most of his face.

The elderly baker banged on the register drawer. ?It? it?s stuck,? he choked out, raising watery eyes to the would-be robber.

?I?m not buying it old man.? A click resounded through the room as the gun was made ready to fire.

Meryl?s fingers dug into Vash?s shoulder, and her voice wavered as she spoke. She knew she had to do something before the situation got any worse.

?Sir, you don?t have to do this. Please! Just tell us what you need and we?ll try to help you.?

Vash nodded. ?Right, just tell her what you need and she?ll try to help you.?

?Thanks a lot for the back-up, Braveheart,? Meryl mumbled, delivering an elbow to Vash?s ribcage.

?Ow, hey that-?

?Of all the guys to be with during a robbery!? Meryl thought with a shake of her head. ?At least I know he won?t be trying anything stupid and heroic??

?Hey, mister, would you like some coffee??

The gunman and Meryl both stared open-mouthed at the lanky man who slowly rose from his place at the table, walking purposefully toward the counter. Mick?s hand dropped from the stubborn cash drawer.

?Coffee??

?Yeah, it sure is cold out there,? Vash smiled, pouring a large cup of the steaming liquid. ?Um, looks to me like you definitely need the decaf variety, my friend. Anyway, why don?t you warm up and then we can take care of business? After all, you?re going to have to make your getaway, aren?t you? Might as well fill up! And ooh, here, have a donut ? they?re delicious!?

Their aggressor seemed to be thinking it over for a moment, the fingers of his free hand flexing as if contemplating whether or not to reach out for what he was being offered. Suddenly he stiffened, and Vash was soon face to face with a pistol. ?I know what you?re up to.?

The software tester set the coffee down and took a step back. ?Hey, I?m not up to anything. I just smelled those fresh donuts and thought it would be a shame to let them get stale.?

The robber squinted. ?Are you some kind of idiot??

Vash stood his ground. ?Yeah, I guess I must be. But I?m not the one ready to shoot a man over a couple of dollars in a cash register.?

Meryl?s breath caught in her throat. What was he doing? Five minutes ago he was clawing at the window and now he was insulting the gunman? ?I thought he was just a coward ? but he really is crazy.?

The robber?s finger twitched on the trigger in time with the short, nervous breaths escaping his mouth. ?I can?t? I can?t? Shut up! You don?t know anything! You don?t know what it?s like for me!? His whole body quaked and the gun swayed in his weakening clutches.

The taller man took another step forward, his hands still in the air. ?Is it so bad that you would want someone to have to die over it??

Vash?s tone was serene and free of mocking. Meryl lifted her gaze from the shaking pistol and studied her companion?s face. There was? something? in his eyes, in his expression. He seemed to somehow understand this frightening and desperate man.

Before Meryl could blink, those eyes were looking her way.

?Please, hand me my coat.?

She hesitated, staring at him dumbly as if she didn?t understand the words he was speaking. Vash repeated his request, and she inched towards the edge of her seat, wondering what he was planning to do.

?Stop! Don?t move!? The agitated stranger lunged forward, leveling the pistol just inches away from blond?s chest. Vash slowly reached out for the garment hanging beside their table.

?You?re going to have to trust me, friend. I trust you.?

Keeping one eye on the gunman, Vash slowly rifled through one of the pockets, pulling out his wallet. He opened the billfold, counting the last of this month?s ?allowance.?

?Here. It?s three hundred and four dollars?? he bit his lip and rummaged in his pants pocket, ?and thirty-eight cents. More than I know ole Mick keeps around here after dark. Now, it?s yours either way. You can shoot me and take it, but then you?d be a criminal. Or you put down the gun, take it as a gift, and go to sleep with a clear conscience tonight. What do you say??

?You?re joking.?

?Do I look like I?m joking??

The stranger stepped forward, grabbing the fistful of bills.

?Well, if you didn?t have that crazy hair and weren?t wearing a shirt that said: ?Gamers Really Know How To Use Their Joysticks,? maybe I could take you a little more seriously.? The gun dropped at his side as he turned to the door. ?Pleasure doing business with ya.?

The bell jingled to signal his departure, and Vash collapsed on the nearest stool, letting out a long breath. ?I think the robber-guy just insulted me?? He looked down at his empty wallet. ?Aww man, what am I gonna do for the next two weeks? Guess I can always ask Quatre for a loan. Van would charge me interest??

?Just what the hell were you thinking you? lunatic?! Meryl shouted, grabbing him by the collar.

Vash stuck out his lower lip. ?Hey, is this any kind of reward for the guy who just stopped a robbery??

?You could have gotten killed ? or gotten us killed! How could you-?

?Well, I think he?s quite the hero!? Mick beamed, slapping Vash on the back. ?I?m mighty grateful to ya, son! A free dozen a day, how does that sound??

?Now that?s better!?

Meryl stamped her foot. ?Will one of you call the police?! That derelict is still out there roaming the streets!?

?I think he was just a guy down on his luck is all,? Vash offered, sliding his fingers towards the new tray of donuts. ?And think of the great story you?ve got now! Software Mogul Defends Donuts ? Making Streets Safe for Glazed.?

The reporter shook her head and reached for her own coat. ?Well come on then, oh ?Defender of Donuts.? You can walk me back to my hotel.?

?OK. Well, better bundle up then. Oh, and I?ll need a few for the road!?

?Yeah? a few dozen,? Meryl mumbled as she pulled on her gloves.

* * * * *

Metropolitan Museum of Art



?One of the charity projects that GLLC funded last year was a park in their names. It might not be terribly original, but my mother had always told me to leave a place more beautiful than I found it, so I thought it was fitting. There are lots of trees and flowers, and a butterfly house. I think she would have liked it.?

?Why Mr. Winner ? Quatre. I had no idea that you?d lost your parents.?

?It?s not something most people know. The guys, well, we were friends growing up, so of course they knew. But we managed; my sisters always took good care of me. I hope that wherever my parents are, that they?re proud of me.?

Their footfalls echoed loudly in the nearly deserted hallway and Quatre could see a hint of a smile forming on Dorothy?s lips.

?I?m sure they are.?

?And if your father could see you now, Miss Dorothy, I?m sure he?d be very proud of you, too.?

The smile quickly faded. ?I had taken my bar exam just a few weeks before he died. I didn?t find out that I had passed until? afterwards. I wanted more than anything for him to see that, those words on the page. He was a lawyer, too. It meant the world to him that I was following in his footsteps.

?He was killed last year ? in the September 11th attack,? Dorothy explained. ?It was just so... No one has the right to chose someone else?s fate for them. To end people?s lives like that, to use them and throw them away. There is no justification for it, no matter what the cause.?

Her usually smooth voice cracked like the surface of a frozen lake in winter. Quatre slid his arm around her shoulders, seeming to support her as they continued through the museum?s winding corridor.

It had the feel of importance, the building. As if the things housed with in it were sacred relics, and on many accounts, they were ? probably for more reasons than he could imagine. She slipped out of his grasp when the arrived in the main gallery, and walked briskly towards the far wall.

?It?s that one, right there. They bought it when they were in Europe on their honeymoon. It always meant a lot to him.?

Quatre peered through the glass that shielded the rarer pieces of the exhibit, blinking at the mottled shapes roughly sketched on a yellowed and tearing leaf of antiquated paper.

?Why, it?s very interesting, Miss Dorothy.? The CFO cocked his head to one side, trying to make sense of the rounded, interlocking figures depicted under the bright lights of the security case. ?Wedding Day sketch? Pablo Picasso??

Dorothy nodded. ?You can see there, the woman?s veil.?

?Oh, well ? I think I can see it.? He squinted at the lines, still unable to make sense of them.

?They?re melting into one another, becoming one at the moment of their marriage,? Dorothy explained. ?The sentimentality of it surprised me, in the artist and in my father, but it seemed to touch them both deeply.?

?Hm. I thought Picasso was a terrible womanizer in his life time.?

?He was,? Dorothy acknowledged. ?The story that the art dealer told my parents that this was a sketch of the wedding of a woman he wanted, but couldn?t have.?

Quatre felt the blood drain from his face as he continued to stare at the piece of artwork. ?I wonder why??

Dorothy traced the outline of the drawing with her finger that hovered over the glass, then turned her pale blue eyes on Quatre. ?I suppose there can be reasons, why two people can?t be together. Maybe she didn?t love him, or wasn?t willing to give up her station in life for a lowly artist. But I think that most often, the reasons why people think they can?t let themselves love someone are reasons they make on their own.?

?But maybe some of the reasons are valid, Miss Dorothy,? Quatre whispered. His limbs began to feel heavy, as if the weight of his oath was dragging him down and threatening to leave him helpless and stranded.

?If you ever find one, Mr. Winner, I would be very interested to hear it.?

?What about making a promise? A promise not to let love be a distraction??

?Is that how men see love? As a distraction?? Her voice had turned from one of calm contemplation to a low, venomous hiss.

?Miss Dorothy, I?m sorry. I didn?t mean to ? that?s not what I??

She sighed, but her expression didn?t soften. ?Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. You have no need to apologize.?

Quatre forced himself to meet her gaze. ?Yes I do. All I was trying to say was that sometimes? there are reasons. Real, solid, inescapable reasons why a man, a person, would be in love with someone ? someone that might actually love him back ? but still not be able to be with her, er, with the other person.?

?But he would admit that he still loves her, even if only to himself?? Dorothy questioned.

?Well?? Speaking had become painful and tiresome. Every word that tumbled out of his mouth seemed to drain more and more of his energy. ?I suppose that he would.?

?Then why,? Dorothy demanded. ?Would he let anything stand in his way??

Her high-heeled shoes let her stand just taller than him. Quatre tilted his head back, lifting his eyes to the shower of silky strands that tickled his cheek and neck.

?There shouldn?t be anything,? he admitted, letting his eyelids drift closed as he breathed in the perfumed air lingering between them. ?But sometimes??

The heat of her breath grazed his lips, and they ceased to move, seemingly of their own volition. He heard the alarm, sounding clearly, ringing through his brain. It told him to move back, to step away, but he ignored it ? and waited.

?Excuse me, sir? Ma?am? You?re too close to the artwork there, could you please back away??

The guard moved closer and Quatre blinked, finally able to focus on the tall man?s blue security uniform.

?Sorry??



* * * * *

122nd Street



Van looked up into the small patch of sky that was visible between the tall buildings. The lights of the city reflected off of the wintry clouds that swirled in the darkness above. For once, everything seemed still and quiet, almost peaceful as he and Hitomi walked along.

?It seems a shame to call it a night so early. What will you do when you get back??

?Probably nothing, except listen to Heero gripe, or maybe watch something on cable. I hope Vash took a long walk. If he beats me back I?ll probably get stuck watching another one of those Lifetime movies and sitting there while he cries his eyes out to Valerie Bertinelli being reunited with her long lost son or abused sister or kidnapped daughter or schizophrenic husband. Take your pick.?

?I think it?s sweet he cares so much.?

?Who Vash? He?s a total sap. You should see him sob like a baby every time??

Hitomi smiled and shook her head. ?No, I meant Heero - about how hard Relena has to work. You know??

?No. Heero?s just annoyed because this is dragging on too long. He wanted to just veto it before we ever got the contract, but Quatre and I told him no. We may not need PCC?s server business, but we?d really like to have it. If your preliminary estimates are in line, that?s a pretty hefty increase we?ll see next year.?

?Will you be coming to the debut at the MO-II fair??

Van looked down at her expectant expression and felt his shoulders slump. ?Uhhhhh?probably not, actually. I think I?m in Seattle that week.?

?Oh. That?s too bad. I?m in charge of giving the presentation.?

?Really? That?s impressive. I would have liked to see it.?

She smiled up at him again, slightly tightening her hold on his arm as they stopped at a crosswalk. ?Would you like to?rent a movie or something? We can watch it at my place. Those cable movies are really awful.?

?Yeah, they are. But I shouldn?t, I mean??

?Why not??

Van remained quiet while they made their way across the intersection.

Yeah, why not? I mean, it?s not against the pact to be friends with a woman. And it?s just watching a movie to avoid typhoon Yuy and another lonely night at the apartment.

?You?re right, it sounds like fun. Where?s the rental place??

She smiled at him. ?This is New York. There?s one of everything just around the corner.?



He grabbed the handle to the frosted glass door and held it open for her. The much warmer air coming from the inside embraced him like an old friend. Van followed Hitomi over to the ?New Releases? section. One of the video covers caught his eye and he let a gloved hand gravitate towards its location on the shelf.

?How about this one??

Hitomi scrunched up her nose as she read the title. ?Copper Primate? What the heck is that??

?It?s a Jackie Li movie.?

?Ugh, with all that martial arts fighting and stuff? No way.? She held up a small box. ?This one is excellent.?

Van shrunk backwards. ?How to Quilt an American Heirloom? What, is it an instructional video? Do you have your sewing machine on standby or something??

Hitomi pointed to the summary on the back of the cardboard cover. ?It?s a movie about an old woman making a quilt with her granddaughter.?

?Oh, fascinating,? Van mocked, grabbing an armful of videos as he spoke.. ?Why don?t we just rent My Life as a Dog, or this?Etched in the Heart? Or better yet?this this?Keepsake.?

?Those are all supposed to be excellent,? Hitomi nodded.

?They all look like they suuuuuck.?

?Oh, well, let?s look at your selections.? She snatched one of the tapes from the pile he held. ?Rumble at the Bronx Zoo, definitely intellectually stimulating, the Planet of the Baboons? I?m beginning to think you have a fascination with monkeys ? perhaps you feel some sort of kinship??

Van narrowed his eyes. ?Funny. Copper Primate is a story about a hero ? like Robin Hood.?

?Robin Hood sounds much better,? Hitomi argued, obviously still scanning the shelves.

Van took the cassette back. ?This is Japan?s version. They couldn?t very well use Robin Hood ? it?s English besides.?

A hand flew to her hip as she turned to face him. ?Well, I don?t feel like reading subtitles.?

He grudgingly replaced the movie and growled. ?Fine! I don?t feel like watching chick flicks about quilts and keepsakes and romantic crap.?

?And I don?t want to spend the evening watching two guys beat each other to a pulp.?

Van took a slow, deep breath and fought to keep his tone low and even. ?Fine. Then what do you suggest??

She rounded a corner and led him to the ?Classics? shelves. ?Dr. Zhivago.?

?No way. Angsty love story, not happening.?

?All the King?s Men.?

?Snoozer. Borderline documentary. And no political movies.?

Hitomi rolled her eyes. ?Fine, then YOU suggest something.?

Van crossed his arms. ?Nu-uh. I just pick monkey movies, remember??

She smiled and shoved a tape into his hand. ?Fine, then we?re watching this.?

?Love me or Leave me?? He read aloud. ??The real-life drama of jazz age singer Ruth Etting and the evil-tempered gangster who orchestrates her climb to stardom. Received six Academy Award Nominations, including Best Actor--James Cagney?.? James Cagney, huh??

Hitomi shrugged. ?What can I say, I find the mafia fascinating.?

?Evil-tempered gangsters are good.?

?Uh-huh, so this is acceptable??

?I guess,? Van conceded, making his way to the checkout counter. ?If it sucks, though, you owe me.?

?It won best motion picture,? Hitomi pointed out.

Van drummed his fingers on the countertop. ?That doesn?t mean it won?t suck. Your quilting movie probably won some ?bored harpies? award.?

The young woman glared at him. ?That?s it, you?re paying for the movie, and buying me coffee and dessert after it?s over.?

?If the movie doesn?t suck,? The VP insisted. ?If it?s awful, you?re buying.?

?I bought the pizza?.Fine. If it?s awful, I?ll buy coffee and dessert. But you?re paying for the rental.?

Van unbuttoned his coat and pulled out his wallet. ?Ok, but we?ll have to use your card. I?m not exactly a member here.?

She smiled and slid a piece of paper towards him. ?Well, now?s a good time to join.?



* * * * *



Uptown New York

The wind had died down for the moment, leaving the uptown night calm and crisp in the chilly air. Vash had quickly learned to tune out the noise of the traffic that roared in all directions and instead focused on a strange sense of anticipation that seemed to hover in the air. More snow? Or could it be something else? The software tester felt an abrupt tug on his arm, and stopped. She had come to a halt in the middle of the square, planting herself on the small concrete island that allowed pedestrians to do so. Vash followed her gaze to the neon signs that blinked and danced above the billboards, never allowing the total black of night to fully settle in the purple sky above the city.

?It really is so alive here,? Meryl breathed, throwing her head back to further take in the glimmering skyline. ?This city truly does have a pulse ? it?s own energy. I would say Seattle does, too, but it?s different in New York. Don?t you think??

?I suppose so??

?You?re still thinking about him, aren?t you? That man??

Vash nodded slowly, following Meryl to the other side of the street. ?Yeah. I could have ended up just like him, you know??

?What? But you and the others founded GLLC while you were still in high school.?

?That?s true. We did.?

?Then why do you say that??

?Just because I founded a company doesn?t mean I had it easy. None of us did. Now Quatre ? his dad was an industrialist, built some kind of heavy logging machinery. His folks died in a car crash when he was a teenager, but at least he had family ? lots of sisters to help take care of him. Van?s parents are doctors. They weren?t around very much when he was growing up and when they were, they only really paid attention to his older brother. Heero doesn?t even remember his folks, his uncle pretty much raised him. I guess we have Uncle J to thank,for all this. He got us into computers in the first place...?

Meryl stopped and Vash finally looked up again. He hadn?t realized just how much distance they?d managed to cover as he told the reporter about his friends. He stared at the doors, but turned back to the petite woman beside him when she made no effort to move nearer to the entrance.

?What about you, Vash??

?Oh, you don?t want to hear about me, reporter girl.?

Meryl smirked. ?Nice try.?

Vash felt the sad smile flash over his face, and he gulped in a breath of the cool air. ?I never met my parents. My real ones. I lived in too many foster homes to count, state homes, orphanages when I was a kid. Some of the people who took care of me were nice, and some weren?t, so I mostly took care of myself. But I never got too attached to anyone, because just when I did, that?s when I?d have to leave. That all changed when I was 14. My freshman year of high school I got placed with a widow. Rem Saverem.

?She was beautiful and smart and the kindest person I ever met. But she never took excuses and didn?t let me get away with a thing. Sometimes you remind me a bit of her, Miss Meryl. And Rem taught me that life, even mine, was not to be wasted. I lived with her for only a short time before she got sick. Cancer? she was so young, too. And by that time I had met the guys. They didn?t care who I was, or that I didn?t have any family. They wanted to be my friends regardless. That?s why I stick by them? grouchy and difficult as they can be. They are my family. And that?s what I wanted more than anything my whole life. The money doesn?t matter, and I could lose the company and still be fine just as long as I didn?t lose my friends.

You don?t let the people that matter to you go without a fight. If it weren?t for Heero, Quatre and Van? and Rem? well, who knows what I would have become.?

?I still think you would have turned out just fine,? Meryl smiled. ?Still incredibly weird, but just fine.?

He chuckled and scratched his head before taking her arm and starting up the stairs and into the hotel lobby. ?You can have all that for the record.?

?Oh, how generous! Can ask I just one more thing??

He opened the door and held it for her as she walked through. ?Well??

?I promise it has nothing to do with the pact.?

?Ok, shoot.?

?For the record??

?Yes??

?Just what is with the hair, anyway??

* * * * * *

Uptown NYC



The tires screeched as the cab shot through a space that didn?t appear to be large enough to fit a bicycle through and jerked to a stop at the curb. To her credit, the corporate attorney didn?t appear fazed in the slightest, but Quatre had to swallow part of his dinner a second time.

?So, you didn?t have anything else that needed clarifying??

?No, Miss Dorothy. I think that was the only question I had left. Are you feeling better now? Something to eat seems to almost always do the trick ? just ask Vash.?

?Yes, much better.?

Quatre smiled, offering a hand as he helped her from the taxi cab. She alighted gracefully to the curb in a flurry of blond and fur, still tightly clutching his arm.

?Thank you for a wonderful evening, Miss Dorothy.?

?And thank you, Mr. Winner,? she smiled back. She seemed to shimmer somehow beneath the yellow streetlamp. ?I must say I enjoyed myself, museum alarms and all. Would you care to come up for a cup of coffee, or maybe a drink??

He tried to pull his arm away, but she held fast. ?I really should get back, but thank you.?

?What?s the rush? Is Mr. Yuy waiting up for you? I hardly see him as the mother-hen type.?

His skin was on fire, and he hoped she couldn?t see the flush in his face as she stared at him. ?No, it?s not that. I just? I can?t stay. But please, let me walk you to the door.?

She sighed and nodded, accepting his arm once again and allowing him to lead her along the building?s cement steps. ?Here you are, Miss Dorothy. I hope that I?ll get to see you this week at the contract signing. Have a good-?

The warmth of her fur coat encircled him, pulling him in. Soft lips sealed themselves against his, cutting off the rest of his words and making him feel weak. He melted into her arms, just like the roughly sketched figures in her father?s drawing.

The night air rushed to greet him when she let go, grabbing hold and reminding him that he was no longer close to her. ?Good night, Quatre,? she whispered. He stood, frozen, watching her disappear into the building?s paneled lobby.

He dragged his feet, holding a hand over his lips as if he could keep the kiss from fading, to keep the pang of loneliness from invading his heart for just a few seconds longer.

Quatre settled back into the cab, mumbling his address for the man in the front seat. The driver nodded his understanding, beady eyes glinting in the rearview mirror until turning around to face the man in the back.

?You turned down a woman like that? Are you crazy pal??

Quatre sucked in a breath of air, raising his head to acknowledge the vaguely familiar voice. He was unable to answer, however, when the cab suddenly darted out into traffic and sped along to a symphony of honking horns and angry shouts. Quatre squinted and studied the face in the mirror.

?I can?t help but think I?ve seen you before,? the blond confessed. The man in the driver?s seat snorted, then gave the wheel a sharp turn, sending his passenger sliding across the backseat.

?Doubt it. There are tons of cabs in this city.?

?I see.? Quatre sighed, grasping the bar on the door in a vice grip, watching Dorothy?s building drift out of view as the taxi traveled down the narrow city street. The cab swerved again, and the CFO stole another pitiful glance out the window, only to notice that they were still on the same street ? and riding in the middle of the yellow line.

He could just imagine Van?s voice: ?Are the driving laws actually different in this city? Or did you all just miss the same question on the test??
But the thought didn?t make him smile.

**************************************


(Cont'd on pg 2)

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: blackrose on 2002-09-11 02:52 ]</font>