(D2 Entry) Butterflies of the Night, ch. 6

[Fallen Angel]

Title: Butterflies of the Night
Author: Fallen Angel, fallen_angel_2012@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13 for the most part, but contains LEMON in ch 13
Categories: Alternate Universe, Series, Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing and am making no money from this. Don’t sue.

Chapter 6: Dorothy

{


“Well, Mr Quatre. I didn’t expect to see you so early after last night’s activities. And especially with your work.”

Quatre smiled at Dorothy as he entered the room. “I wasn’t as drunk as you may think, Miss Dorothy. As for work…well, they know I don’t have many hobbies, so they allow me this little one.”

“A hobby?” Dorothy raised one eyebrow as she poured Quatre a cup of tea. “Mr Quatre, classical music isn’t just a hobby. It’s a discipline and one I hope you’re taking seriously. Otherwise I’m wasting my time teaching you.”

Her tone was strict, but the sparkle in her eye told Quatre she was just joking with him, as she often did. And he was glad of it. As Quatre ‘Richest-man-this-side-of-the-Pacific’ Raberba Winner, it was hard to find people who would even disagree with him, much less tell him off. But not Dorothy. Ever since their purely business relationship became friendship, she had made it her personal duty to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground. Along with Trowa, she was one of his best friends.

“Oh, Dorothy,” he said mournfully, sipping his tea. “You’ve found me out. Now you know my deep, dark secret.”

“Which is?”

“I’m only doing this to see you.”

Dorothy smiled coolly. “Good, because I’m only teaching you for the money.” She laughed and Quatre joined her, knowing she barely even cared about the money now. The music was a shared passion which she would have taught him for free if he would let her.

“So,” she said, once the tea was finished. “Shall we begin?”

Quatre nodded and pulled out his shamisen as she did the same. Dorothy began playing a piece and, when he was ready, Quatre joined in. The notes lilted and dipped, floating into the air so clearly it was almost as if one could reach out and grasp the music itself. Of course, Quatre knew it wasn’t his playing which made it so. It was Dorothy’s. She had the gift of making music almost tangible.

“Well,” Dorothy said softly when they’d finished. “You’ve improved. Have you been practicing?”

“A little,” Quatre answered, blushing. “I’m not nearly as good as you are, though. That was so moving, the way you played that.”

“One has to have a certain sense of sadness to do such a thing, Mister Winner. I don’t know if you will ever be able to attain that.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Quatre, frowning slightly. “Everyone feels sadness. If you do, Miss Dorothy, I hope you would feel comfortable enough with me to share it.”

Dorothy smiled sadly. ‘I would, if you could ever understand,’ she told herself. But out loud, she said, “I must admit you’ve improved, but there’s still a slight issue with your fingering. It may sound fine but appearance is just as important. It has to look right.”

Quatre shifted his fingers on the neck of the instrument. “Like this?”

“Not exactly.” She moved around the table between them and sat beside him. With one hand on his shoulder to correct his posture, she used the other to correct his grip. “Like this.”

“Oh,” Quatre replied, his voice soft and almost breathy. And it didn’t take him long to realise it was all because of Dorothy. It wasn’t every day that she touched him or got close to him, so when she did, it was like every nerve in his body was aware of her touch. And the awareness wasn’t exactly a displeasing one, either. The way her slender fingers rested on the shoulder of his suit, or the way her breath tickled his ear made him shiver. ‘But this is Dorothy,’ his mind told him. ‘You can’t react this way to her.’

His body wasn’t listening.

Desperate for reassurance he wasn’t the only one feeling this way, he turned to her. Her eyes, usually so clear and focused they were almost penetrating, were now blurred and soft. Her lips, full and red, were opened slightly, as if she were a little short of breath.

“Dorothy?” he asked tentatively. He found himself drawn to those parted lips but he needed to know if it was okay. He needed her to tell him what that little voice in his head was crying. That this was wrong, and he should stop.

She said nothing, and his lips moved closer and closer, grazing hers just slightly when…

She pulled away.

“I think that’s all for today’s lesson, Mister Winner,” she said, still sounding out of breath. “You’ve improved immensely.”

“Dorothy…”

“Miss Dorothy,” she corrected him, her eyes suddenly bright with something like anger.

“Miss Dorothy, I have to tell you something.”

“Mister Winner, I don’t think there’s anything left for you to say,” she insisted, standing up and smoothing down her kimono. He stood up too. “Now, I must ask…”

“Dorothy, I’m getting married.”

Her back was turned to him, but the way she stiffened at his words was enough for him to know she’d heard him. When she didn’t turn around, he went on.

“It wasn’t exactly my choice. I’m indebted to her father, you see, and he asked and since I’m single and not seeing anyone, I couldn’t find a suitable reason to refuse…”

Dorothy heard each and every one of his words like they were icepicks stabbing into her brain. ‘Married?’ she thought to herself. ‘But you were seeing someone. You were seeing me.’

But she knew that wasn’t the truth. Perhaps Relena’s na?vet? was rubbing off on her and she was beginning to believe that there could ever be something permanent between an ex-geisha and a millionaire. The only thing she could console herself with was the thought that at least he hadn’t just used her for physical pleasure then thrown her away.

Or maybe that would have been better. That she could understand. Cruelty she understood. But Quatre’s unbelievable kindness was a mystery to her. As was the friendship he offered her unconditionally. The friendship which became something more.

Well, Dorothy had hoped it would move to something more. As much as she teased Quatre, the truth was that she admired him and felt something for him she thought she could never feel for anyone ever again. Not after last time.

But Quatre, innocently and unknowingly, had worked his way under her barriers and into what was left of her heart. And now, just as unknowingly, he was going to take what was left with him.

“…she’s still young…16, I think,” he was saying, “but Mariemaia is smart for her age. And generous. She would make a good wife…”

Dorothy still wasn’t speaking, wasn’t looking at him, and it was beginning to make him nervous.

“Dorothy, please say something. You’re such a good friend. I want to know what you think.”

“Perhaps you’re asking the wrong person,” she said bitterly, still not facing him. “I’m no expert on love. I guess I should ask how you feel about her…”

She gasped as she was suddenly gripped by the arm and spun around. At first, her instinct was to cry out and demand he let go of her. Any other man would have gotten the same treatment. But Quatre’s expression was so determined, she couldn’t have turned away if she wanted to.

“I will never care for her the way I care for you,” he told her between gritted teeth. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Now tell me you don’t feel the same way.” His presence was closing in on her, his eyes looking through her. “Don’t hide from your feelings, Dorothy. Please, for both our sakes…say it before it’s too late.”

Dorothy shook her head. No, she couldn’t do this. The words were there, lodged in her throat, threatening to break free. But he didn’t understand…It was already too late. He had already looked elsewhere, tried to test her feelings for him. And maybe any other woman would have accepted the test and declared her love before he found another.

But not her. Beneath the layer of ice was a heart battered and bruised. She couldn’t settle for a love she needed to prove, couldn’t put it all on the line without a promise: not with Quatre and not with anyone. Her heart simply couldn’t handle it.

“It seems, Mister Winner, I’m not the only one to hide from my feelings,” she raised her eyes to his and was almost pleased by the way her cold glare startled him. “I’ve been saying how I feel for a long time now, only you were as afraid of it as I was. You did not act and now the decision has been made for you.”

“Dorothy, you don’t know how much I would give up to love you. If only you’ll tell me you feel the same way.” His eyes were wide now, desperate and almost fearful. “I can call off the marriage in a second if…”

“Goodbye, Mister Winner,” she said, shaking her arm out of his grasp, knowing with a heavy heart that he would never know just how difficult that one little motion had been.

“Dorothy…” he reached out for her, but she was already stepping away. Her tense posture dared him to try again.

“I think it’s time you left, Mister Winner,” she said, glad her voice sounded firmer than she felt.

Finally, Quatre sighed and stepped back. His eyes were filled with sadness and when he spoke, there was a slight hitch in his voice she’d never heard before. “How sad,” he whispered. “A woman who can’t cry.”

A tiny gasp of shock and hurt escaped Dorothy’s lips before she could stop it. “Leave. Now,” she repeated. “I won’t ask again.”

With a quiet nod of defeat and regret, Quatre walked out. “I’m sorry for my rudeness, Miss Dorothy. It won’t happen again.”

When he had gone, Dorothy fell to her knees and held her head in her hands. “No,” she whispered wretchedly. “Never again.”


{ { {


The sun was bright on Relena’s face as she awoke and for the first time in many years, she didn’t dread the day ahead of her, nor regret the night before.

It was crazy, and strange, and impossible, but the truth was obvious and Relena smiled as she thought of it.

I’m falling in love with Heero.

She couldn’t wait to see him again. And it seemed he wasn’t completely against seeing her again either. After their walk last night, he had taken her card. He hadn’t promised to call for her again, but he didn’t need to. He spoke so little, but Relena was beginning to believe she could see the meaning behind his words. Actions spoke louder than words, anyway, when it came to a man like Heero and simply by taking her number, he had said more than a hundred words could.

“Glad to see someone had a good night.”

Hilde smiled as she entered the room and Relena sat up, startled.

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Depends. Are we talking about your blush, or the blissful smile plastered across your face?” teased Hilde.

Relena turned away, slid out of bed and then changed from her sleeping robe to a decent day robe. When she was done, she turned around to find Hilde still standing there.

“Is something wrong?” Relena asked.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me about last night?”

Relena fought down another blush. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Sure,” Hilde said, but she didn’t leave the room. Finally, Relena couldn’t help herself.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” gasped Hilde, sliding the door shut behind her. “Is he handsome?”

Relena paused, thinking. No one could deny Heero was a handsome young man, and in a position to make any geisha happy. But there was so much more to him than that, and trying to describe that to someone else was a going to be a lot harder than Relena thought. Especially when she didn’t completely understand him herself. He was everything from cold, confident, abrasive to dignified and honourable and, something which lured Relena more than anything else, uncertain and just a little lost. And that was only the beginning.

Still, Hilde was waiting and she had to begin somewhere.

“Well, he has these eyes…”


{ { {


“Woman.”

Sally bristled as she put down the tray she was carrying.

“Wufei, my name is Sally. Can you say that? Sal-ly.”

The young man scowled as he smoothed his hair down and retied it into a ponytail. When he was done, he sat up.

“Well,” said Sally as he did. “At least you’re a little stronger now. But I don’t want you leaving here until you’ve at least gained a bit more weight. Then I can be sure you’ll be able to take care of yourself.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself at the moment, woman,” he muttered.

“Oh yeah? Then get out of bed, if you think you can.”

Wufei scowled again: she had him there. Since last night he’d regained enough strength to sit up, but as far as he knew, walking or standing was probably still beyond him.

“Fine, you win. I will stay until I’m recovered…” he paused for a moment, then in a softer tone, added, “…that is, if you want me to.”

Sally smiled and answered straightaway. “Of course. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I planned on kicking you out after one night. That’s a waste of my time and energy. So yes, you will stay until you are well.”

A frown crossed Wufei’s face as her words sunk in. What on earth was she thinking? She knew who he was and whether or not she was Chinese, she must have recognised that having him here was putting herself in danger. Not from him, but from those who would consider him an enemy.

Perhaps she wanted something else. Wufei had heard a little about geisha during his time in Kyoto and figured that this woman had to be one - she was certainly beautiful enough. Her features were classically beautiful - like a well sculpted work of art - and her lips…they were so red, even without makeup.

Maybe if this woman was a geisha, she wanted money from him. Maybe for certain…privileges she would allow him when he was well. Had Wufei been a less scrupulous man, he might have been tempted, but he had honour and certainly no time for such things anyway. Best to tell her now.

“I know what the women are like in this area,” said Wufei firmly. “And I don’t have any money to pay you for anything you have to offer me.”

Sally looked up at him with a brief look of shock, and then disappointment. “Oh,” she said softly and Wufei cursed himself for being so tactless, for causing her pain. She had offered him kindness beyond expectations and here he was, calling her nothing but a rich man’s bedmate.

“I’m…” he began, but couldn’t say it. His pride was too great.

“That’s ok,” said Sally, bringing the tray of food across for him. Her kindness only made his guilt worse. “I guess you don’t really know much about us, so you can be forgiven for making generalisations. But first of all, geisha are not whores. At least, the good ones aren’t. Yes, they sleep with men, but not in the way you think. They have a patron, a danna, who is more like a paying boyfriend than anything else. Secondly, I’m no longer a geisha. I earned enough money to leave my geisha house a few years ago and now I own and run this house.”

That prompted Wufei to thinking…how could that be? She was about his age, maybe a few years older: to be so successful at her age was hard to believe. “How did that happen?” he asked.

She smiled. “I had a dream and I worked towards it.”

“This was your dream? To own a geisha house?”

“Not exactly,” she told him sadly. “I wanted to go home to China. But then I realised I don’t have family there anymore, I don’t have anywhere to go. I mean, I don’t even speak much of the language anymore.”

Something in Wufei hurt, more than he would have expected it to. “I’m sorry. It must be hard for you.”

“It was. Once,” she admitted, uncovering the plates of food in front of him. “But I have a place for myself here now and friends who I care about. It isn’t as bad as I once thought it would be. Or maybe I’m just used to it. Wufei, what are you doing here?”

The sudden change in conversation caught Wufei off guard and he almost answered her question automatically, stopping himself just in time. Eventually he just said, “I’m not here to hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re asking. If anything, I’m here to protect someone so that we may have peace.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “Really? Who?” When he said nothing she went on, “Haven’t I given you enough reasons to trust me yet?”

“That’s just it. It’s just too convenient that you were there at the right time and the right place to help me. It’s hard to believe that I was lucky enough to find a Chinese woman willing to help me in the middle of Japan.”

“Well, believe it,” said Sally, her voice rising. “Don’t you believe in fate, in destiny? Maybe you were meant to find me, so that I could help you protect whoever you have to protect.”

“I don’t need your help, woman.”

“For the last time my name is Sally. And you can’t even stand up by yourself, how do you expect to be of any help to anyone in your condition?”

Bringing up the fact of his weakness stung Wufei more than anything else would and he scowled. “Very well, then. If I’m no help to anyone, I’m certainly a burden to you here. Thank you for the meal,” he ended, pushing himself to his feet.

He only made it the few steps to the door when his legs gave out on him and he half stumbled, just saving himself from falling flat on his face by catching the doorframe with one hand. Then Sally was there, propping him up on her shoulder and helping him back to the futon.

“You certainly are a stubborn one, Chang Wufei,” she whispered, half-smiling.

Wufei took her small offer of apology and smiled in turn. “Look who’s talking…woman.”