by Okaasan
Author's note: Finally! Trowa!
Thank you to everyone who has sent encouragement regarding this fic - including those I hadn't had a chance to reply to yet - Sol, haraamis, Ruth, blackster and Growling Turtlez. If I left anyone out I apologize.
Quatre watched Duo watching his own reflection in the polished brass doors of the elevator. They were on their way up to the executive offices on the top floor of the WEI building in New York City. The elevator speakers were playing a 'tasteful rendition' of a recent pop song and Duo was trying out some funky dance moves as he watched his golden-hued reflection. He seemed to sense Quatre's gaze and he glanced over.
"What?" he asked, still gyrating.
Quatre smiled. "I just realized that I'm taller than you," he said a bit smugly.
Duo gave him a dark look. "Yeah, well, Trowa's still taller than you and I'm taller than WuFei, so that makes you and I the same height."
Quatre's brain was trying to follow that logic when the elevator doors opened and Duo sauntered out into the plush reception area.
"Wow." Duo slowly turned, taking in the opulent furnishings. His eyes stopped on a framed painting highlighted by a discreet light. "Is that an original? Must've cost a pretty penny."
"I'm sure it is, and I'm sure it did," Quatre replied with a trace of bitterness. Duo glanced at him and decided to drop the subject.
Quatre wandered over to make small talk with the receptionist, smiling and talking in a low voice. Duo recognized his friend's discomfort behind the friendly, calm facade. It wasn't like Quatre to procrastinate. He eased up behind Quatre, offering the reassurance of his presence. He was rewarded with a grateful, if somewhat sheepish grin. The receptionist glanced at Duo and suddenly remembered her duties.
"Oh, Mr. Winner. There are some gentlemen here to see you. They're waiting in your office. Is there anything I can bring for you? Coffee?"
"No, thank you, Stephanie," Quatre turned away with a smile, though Duo could tell the smile was a little forced.
"I didn't think. . . I mean, it hasn't even been 24 hours since I called," Quatre mumbled.
"Told ya," Duo replied as he walked beside his friend down the wide hallway. The workday had just started and they passed several employees as they walked. Duo enjoyed seeing them do a double-take, some of them staring open-mouthed at their seldom-seen CEO, who was currently oblivious to all around him.
"I talked to Heero and WuFei right after you called them, and they were already packing. As a matter of fact, 'Fei used some pretty colorful language because I had interrupted him."
Quatre stopped in his tracks. "You called them?" His eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did you tell them?"
Duo held his hands up in mock surrender. "Nothing! Honest, chief. I just asked if they had received your call and they both said yes, and something along the lines of you had apologized for your long absence and wanted to meet with them as soon as possible."
When Quatre continued to glare suspiciously, Duo nervously added, "Well, and I may have said something about them getting their butts here pronto, but really, they were already packing so I think that comment was pretty much moot."
The blond man's head was cocked to the side. "And Trowa?"
"I left a message with Catherine. She said you had called earlier and that she would pass both our messages on to Trowa."
Quatre sighed. "I wish he could have come when the others did. It would have been. . . easier."
Duo nodded sympathetically. "Unless he hijacked a shuttle the moment you called, I don't see how he could be here, but don't worry," he clapped a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, "everything will work out . . ."
He was interrupted by a miniature whirlwind that careened around a corner and slammed head-on into Quatre, who automatically put his hands out to steady the other person. Duo was a bit embarrassed to find himself instinctively reaching for a weapon, especially since the whirlwind turned out to be a beautiful young woman with moss- green eyes and mahogany-colored hair.
"Leah!" Quatre exclaimed.
She was going to be fired. She was going to be fired. She loved this job. She didn't want to be fired. Oh, but it was so worth it.
The contradictory mantra kept repeating itself in Leah's head all morning. A brief three hours of restless sleep hadn't helped matters. By now it was past midday in Geneva and Clara Langston had surely gotten the email Leah had sent last night. And Clara had surely contacted Carl Jacobsen who would surely have her head on a platter.
Everything was going wrong. She was running late, and in her haste to leave this morning she had forgotten to take her working pumps. Walking to work in high heels in New York City was not a good idea, so Leah wore tennis shoes until she got to work, and then changed into her more dressy pumps. Last night she had been so frazzled, she wore her pumps home. She had slipped into a pair of old tennis shoes this morning, still so upset that she hardly noticed that her black dress skirt didn't quite match her pink t-shirt, and that she had failed to bring the pumps with her. No matter, she thought, as she pulled the comfortable shoes off in the employee elevator. As soon as she got to her office she would change into the serviceable black flats she kept in her bottom desk drawer.
She was clutching her purse, her tennis shoes, and a large manila envelope in her arms as she hurried down the hallway in her stockingfeet. She avoided making eye contact with anyone, knowing that she was about to be disgraced. And she had to find a way to contact Quatre without anyone in the office interfering. Her brows drew together. How in the hell could she...
She rounded a corner and felt as if she'd slammed into a brick wall. Her arms flew outward, shoes, purse and envelope flying as she tried to keep from falling. But someone grabbed her arms before she could tumble backwards.
"Leah!"
She blinked at the man in front of her. "Q...Quatre?" Her voice was an embarrassing squeak. For several long seconds they just stood there and stared at each other.
"Leah Rosen!" This time the name came from another source. A florid-faced man stepped out of his nearby office and fixed Leah with a murderous glare. She felt herself shrinking backwards despite her earlier resolve to stick by her actions. Then the man glanced over at her companion. His jaw dropped and his face went from red to stark white in three seconds.
Quatre quickly took in both Leah's expression and that of her supervisor's and stepped forward. "Mr. Jacobsen, right?" Quatre smiled and shook the stunned man's hand. "I need to steal a few moments of Ms. Rosen's time. I'm sure you won't mind."
Carl Jacobsen shook his head and made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a grunt before scurrying back into his office.
Duo watched the whole scene with delight, from his position near the floor where he was gathering up Leah's belongings. He stood and smiled, offering her a tennis shoe while she blew out a puff of air that stirred her bangs. "Thank you," she returned his smile a bit hesitantly, then turned to Quatre as they both started to speak at the same time.
"I need to talk to you..."
"What's going on...?"
Quatre grunted and steered Leah with a hand to the small of her back. "Where's your office?" She pointed down the hall and the two men followed her. Duo looked around with approval at the bookshelves which actually held a good many books, as well as plants and the audio-visual equipment she used in her job. He noticed an odd, acrid smell in the room and a chair set out in the middle of the floor.
Leah turned, still nervous. She glanced at Duo and then back at Quatre. "I think, maybe, I should speak to you about this privately."
Quatre cocked his head. "Is this about. . . you and I?" he asked, puzzled.
Duo slid a sideways glance at them from where he appeared to be studying the books on the shelves.
"Oh, no," Leah said. "It's about, well, about your sister, Clara," she finished in a rush, still not sure about saying too much in front of Quatre's companion.
Duo turned and raised a brow at his friend. "That was fast."
Quatre sighed. "Well, we knew it was coming." He ran a hand through his hair, then straightened. "Leah, this is my good friend, Duo Maxwell. He knows about what's going on between my sister and I so you can speak freely in front of him."
Leah's face lit up. "Oh, you're Duo! Forgive me, I probably should have recognized you but I'm a bit frazzled. I'm so glad that you and Quatre are on good terms again!" She blushed as she realized she was talking more than she should be, but Duo's grin reassured her.
"So what's the old biddy up to?" he asked, leaning against the bookshelves.
Leah leaned on her desk and clamped her hands together to keep from wringing them in nervousness. "Just before the office closed yesterday I received a package from headquarters in Geneva. Actually it was just addressed to the office, but an envelope inside was addressed to Mr. Jacobsen. It's not unusual for employees to open business-related materials addressed to specific people, so I opened it. I was the only one in the office at the time. I'm glad of that." She paused and picked up the manila envelope she'd been carrying. Reaching inside she pulled out a piece of paper. "This is the note that was in the envelope." She handed it to Quatre, who glanced at it impassively, then handed it to Duo.
"Where are the vidtapes and pictures she mentions?" Quatre's voice was controlled as he stood with his arms folded across his chest.
"Well, you see," Leah did start wringing her hands at this point. "There was a bit of an accident. They, um, they sort of. . . caught fire. In my wastebasket. Accidentally, of course."
Quatre didn't move, but one eyebrow quirked upwards. "Of course."
Duo leaned over to look at the mess in the trash can. Well, that's where that funny smell was coming from. He glanced over at the chair in the middle of the floor and then at the ceiling above, before he started chuckling. Leah blinked at him.
"I assume the smoke detector didn't go off," Duo smirked. "They tend to malfunction when the wires have been ripped out."
Leah blushed and turned her attention back to Quatre. "I, uh, I sent an email to Ms. Langston last night informing her that the package had arrived damaged and that nothing inside was salvageable." She sighed. "I'm sure that she and Mr. Jacobsen will want to terminate my position." Her chin came up. "But I'd do it again in a heartbeat. If you had seen what was on those tapes..." she stopped and bit her lip.
"It's okay, Leah," Quatre reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder. "I know what was on the tapes and I know what my sister's intentions were." He smiled and winked conspiratorially. "And it's other people who need to be worried about the status of their jobs. Not you. I'll see to that."
Leah slumped in relief. "Oh, god, I'm so glad you were here today."
"Well, actually, it's partly because of Clara that I'm here, but you can expect to see more of me around here from now on. I'll be taking a much more active role in the company." He turned back to Duo. "Which reminds me, Duo and I have some friends waiting to see us."
"Here, before you go," Leah handed the manila envelope to Quatre. "I. . . I didn't burn everything. I thought you might want to keep these." She smiled at him as he took the envelope from her. "Good luck."
His eyes held hers for several seconds. "Thank you, Leah."
She grinned at him. "No problem, sir."
She felt herself starting to blush again when she noticed that Duo was smiling at her bare feet. He lifted his eyes to hers. "Nice to meet you, Leah."
"Er, you too, Duo."
As soon as the two men left she slumped to the chair behind her desk. The day had barely started and she felt exhausted, but immensely pleased and relieved. Hopefully, she thought, things would calm down around here once Quatre took over.
"Good thing she was the one to intercept that package," Duo said, checking to make sure they couldn't be overheard, as they continued down the long hallway. "You could have been all over the news this morning."
"Yes," Quatre sighed. "And from what I understand, the security clips that Clara planned to publish contained footage of all the Gundams. I wouldn't put it past her to have copies ready to send out again. No matter, though," his jaw hardened with conviction. "Whatever she attempts next will be met with more resistance than she's bargained for."
Duo cast a glance at his friend. "Leah seems to think highly of you."
Quatre rolled his eyes at Duo, knowing what the man was fishing for. "Leah is smart and resourceful. I don't want to lose her as an employee." He paused. "We don't have a relationship," he said. "We just. . .spent some pleasant time in each other's company."
"Oh, is that what they call it these days," Duo said with a grin.
Quatre gave him an impatient look as they finally paused before the large, polished wood doors of the CEO's office.
"Ready to be reunited with the Fearsome Twosome?" Duo quipped. "Have you properly girded your loins?"
"My loins are none of your business," Quatre growled as he opened the door.
Duo was still laughing when Quatre took several steps into the room and then stopped. The first thing Quatre noticed was that there were three men waiting, not two. In a fraction of a second, while the smile he couldn't have held back if he wanted to blossomed, he noted the position of each man. Heero, arms crossed, scowling in his direction. WuFei, grinning broadly, starting towards him, and Trowa, leaning silently against the window.
"Winner!" WuFei shook his hand and then pulled him into an enthusiastic hug. Heero was still scowling but had moved close enough to share a handshake that looked as if it would turn into an arm-wrestling match. "Your security in this building stinks," Heero snapped. "There was only one ID checkpoint, no metal detectors and the layout..."
"Shut up, Yuy," Duo drawled as if he'd heard this a thousand times before. "Hey, Tro-man! You made it! What did you have to do, hijack a shuttle to get here this fast?"
They all turned to the tall, graceful man as he straightened. "Something like that," Trowa said with a smile. He absently tossed his head to clear the fall of silky hair from his eyes. "Hi, Quatre," he said, his smile softening.
"H-Hi," Quatre answered, hardly daring to believe that smile was directed at him. After all this time. He blinked and looked around.
"You're all here. Duo said you. . .but I didn't really believe. . ."
"Of course we're here," Heero said with a huff. "Why wouldn't we be?"
"Why wouldn't you be?" Quatre repeated bitterly. "I can think of plenty of reasons, starting with my reluctance to let you know of my problems and the fact that I've pretty much shut you all out of my life for the past six years." He slumped into a nearby chair as Duo stepped up.
"Yeah, well, you had reasons for that. And maybe you didn't make the best decisions, but we're here now to help if you need us."
Quatre nodded as the others made themselves comfortable. Duo and WuFei each chose a leather-upholstered chair, while Heero sat on the edge of the desk. Quatre found himself soaking in the changes in his two friends; the bit of extra height, loss of baby-fat, their ease with each other. Trowa had gone back to leaning against the window. The contrast from the outside daylight cast his face in shadow. Quatre could tell he was taller and broader, though he already knew that of course, from the many publicity shots he'd seen of his friend.
"So, update us, Winner." Quatre smirked as he recognized the straight-to-the-point demeanor WuFei obviously used as a Preventer.
It only took about 30 minutes, Quatre realized later. Thirty minutes to sum up the past six years of his life. The others asked few questions. Quatre was able to deliver the information as succinctly and with as little confusion as possible. He told them of the takeover by the Board, Clara's threats to both himself and his friends, his strategy to win back the company, and his own recent retaliation. He hung his head as he explained his shame over the fact that his own family was responsible. How he felt he shouldn't ask his friends for help, when they might feel he was lucky to have any family at all. The only thing he left out was Clara's specific threat against Trowa and himself.
The room was silent for a little while and he found himself staring at the envelope in his lap, realizing that he hadn't looked inside since Leah had given it to him.
"The first thing we need to do is update your security." Heero's words brought Quatre's head back up.
"Amazing," Duo snorted. "You're so predictable."
"Someone has to be practical," Heero scowled.
"Hold on," WuFei held up a hand. "Heero and I each have a couple of days free so we can map out our plans without rushing. How about the rest of you?"
Trowa shrugged and Duo nodded. "I talked to Hilde this morning. She's thinking of coming here with the boys for a few days." They all turned to look expectantly at Quatre.
He took a deep breath and let it out, relieved to his core. "Thank you."
"No problem, dude," Duo rose. "You got anything to eat or drink here? I'm starving."
Quatre smiled. "There's an employee café two floors down. Put everything on my tab."
"Sounds good to me, anyone else game?"
Trowa pushed away from the wall. "I wasn't able to eat earlier. I think I'll join you." Quatre found himself watching the fluid lines of Trowa's movements, as he registered the fact that Duo was asking him a question.
"Huh?" he looked up.
"I said are you coming with us?" Duo repeated.
"Um, no, I. . .have some things I need to look over."
"Suit yourself," Duo gave the door jamb a friendly smack as he left the room. Trowa turned to look back for one long second before following him.
Heero stood. "We're going to do some reconnaissance of the building to see what needs changing."
"With your permission, of course," WuFei added for him as he rolled his eyes.
"Sure, guys," Quatre smiled. "I'll let the head of security downstairs know what you're doing." He ignored Heero's snort of derision while he made the phone call.
After they left he sat at the large, simple chair behind his desk and opened the envelope. He carefully took out each picture and looked at them one by one. He was still sitting there when Duo came back in. So engrossed in memory was he, that he was startled to see someone standing next to him. A quick look around confirmed they were alone in the room.
Duo glanced at the photos and raised a brow. Quatre sighed, tossed his overly-long curls out of his face and nodded. The braided man picked up each photo and examined it. His smile grew broader with each picture and Quatre found himself squirming in his seat.
Finally Duo spread the photos on the desk. "You can't look at these and say that the assumptions the rest of us made about your relationship were unfounded. Even if the two of you were unable to admit it to yourselves."
He pushed a couple of the pictures with his forefinger and snorted. "Man, that is one love-sick puppy."
Quatre groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Don't rub it in, Maxwell."
Duo grinned and tossed his braid over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "I wasn't talking about you, Mr. Winner." His grin turned into a bark of laughter as Quatre's eyes widened.
The blond man sat there for several moments, then he carefully collected the photos and placed them back in the envelope. He stood and turned to the large window that offered a spectacular view of Manhattan. He let his forehead rest on the cool glass as he thought of all the dreams he had worked towards, but hardly dared to expect. They all seemed to be coming to fruition. His company, his friends, and...and maybe even...
His head was swimming.
He thought of the only two members of his family he was ever close to – his father and his sister, Iria. Would they have approved of what he was doing? Would they be proud of him? He had to believe that his takeover of the company was something his father would have wanted. Despite their differing views on war, his father had left the company to him, and the policies and programs that Quatre had implemented that first and only year that he'd had power were all well within the guidelines his father had approved of before his death.
Quatre felt a burning need growing in him. The need to take this company and make something strong and wonderful of it. To be able to stand before his father, even if in spirit only and say, 'Look, Father!' and to feel the touch of a strong, gentle hand on his head and the words, 'Well done, son.'
"Father..." Quatre let the sigh leave him as his breath turned the view of the city to opaque whiteness.
to be continued...