~*~*~*~*~*~

She had slapped him! Weren't they meant to be in love? What did she
mean by "things have changed since those days"?

Granted she did have amnesia, but didn't love cross all such bounds?
Wasn't that the norm in Cathy's books? The hero finds the heroine and
no matter the circumstance, they shared a kiss and then rode off into
the sunset.

Nowhere did it say that the heroine slapped the hero in righteous
indignation and then ran off into the kitchen, stumbling along the
way. He could still hear the French curse lofting through the
apartment as she rattled around.

God dammit they were meant to be happy, not at odds with one another.
He was the son of a Don, he was important!

Trowa sighed, halting the mental tirade as his mind clouded. He was
a Don, but that hadn't mattered before. He had once been a lowly
mercenary, and even a mechanic. He wasn't noble; at least he didn't
act like one. Shouldn't your actions dictate your worth not your
blood and bank balance?

He halted the tirade again, looking towards the heavens for answers.

"Trowa," Sally's voice tentatively asked as she poked her head into
the bedroom, a silent apology in her eyes.

"I don't know what went wrong," he whispered in frustration, a long
fingered hand moving to hesitantly touch the angry red welt forming
on his cheek.

Sally sighed, shaking her head in consternation, "Trowa, time changes
everything… Life is not a fairy, even though we wish it were. No one
ever lives happily ever after, it's an unattainable dream."

He looked at her; the trail of tears was visible of her pale cheeks.
Life isn't a fairy tale, repeated in his mind; he knew such things
didn't he?

"Trowa?"

"You're right," he began softly.

"I am?"

"Life, it isn't a fairy tale. But it's so hard, I miss her so much,
but she doesn't want anything to do with me!" he cried in
frustration, pushing his hair back from his angular face.

"Give her time…"

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Mon dieu! He kissed me! The nerve, who does he think he is!" Midii
spat in heavily accented English. "He has me spitting like an angry
cat, could there be more to this?"

She paced about the kitchen, her hands ringing together, the bandage
ripping ever so slight. "No there isn't more to this, I'm just
excitable. But my fury has chased away the English accent I worked
so hard to acquire," she whined softly, before stopping in the middle
of the tiled kitchen, tilting her head to the heavens, before she
moved over to a cabinet door, pulling it open to pull a glass from
it's depths.

She turned on her heel slamming shut the cabinet door in her fury,
the glass forgotten. The sound of breaking glass reaching her
ears. "He is an oaf! A Neanderthal! Mon dieu, I am not some panting
teenager! I'm not avidly awaiting his kisses, he need to woo me!"

Midii stopped appalled at her words. Her face turned pale as the
wheels began to turn. She recognized him now that's what her words
had signified. She wanted him to win her heart again. It was all true.

"I must be crazy," she whispered in shock. "I can't still love him,
but I do."

"Amazing what the heart will hide from you," a soft voice replied to
her musing. The tone slightly gruff bespoke the speaker's identity.

"Wufei, what do you mean?"

"The heart and pride," he admitted ruefully, "they often keep you
from seeing something as clear as the nose on your face."

"I don't understand what you're speaking about," Midii replied
perplexed.

"You love Trowa, you always have. When I first met you I thought you
were trouble, and you are, but Trowa, his heart was so staunch about
loving you that we trusted you even though the writing was on the
wall so to speak. Hell you even gained Sally's respect while she was
undercover…" he broke off as she sputtered in shock. He used the
break in conversation to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer
wrapping it in a kitchen towel before turning back to the startled
Midii.

"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"When you knew Sally as Nikita, she grew to respect you and love you
in a sisterly manner." Wufei explained softly as he held an ice pack
to his nose.

"I never did understand her kindness to me, it was always
unsettling. For so long no one had treated me as a human being, and
then she showed me kindness and she expected nothing in return."
Midii said softly hugging herself, her eyes closed as she remembered
her painful past.

"Give him a chance…"

"Wufei, if I remember correctly this display is decidedly out of
character for you. I remember you as Mr. Cool-Dark-and-Mysterious
never offering so much as a smidgen of concern, never mind such
sentimental advice. You could also have been classified as
insultingly rude to women. What changed you?" Midii gestured around
the apartment, the little knick-knacks included in her sweep. She was
baffled.

She was truly perplexed by his behavior; he was being overly kind to
her. He had been kind to her, since they had first met in that
darkened office and he had taken the beating meant for her.

"Life."

"Life?"

"Losing the one you love can open your eyes to many things you don't
want to see," he replied again, elaboration upon his previous
statement.

Midii was silent, a finger absently stroking the scar on her cheek.
She knew the feeling, it was painful. You could react in a myriad of
ways. She had turned her back on the world, and Wufei had opened his
heart.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lady Une poked her head from her office, the gesture earning her
several glances from her staff. She ignored them as her brown eyes
searched out her quarry. She sighed as she saw her "daughter"
standing with her nephews.

"Mariemaia, can we speak?" She asked, lifting her voice to carry over
the bustle of the office.

"Yes mother," the red haired teenager replied softly as she moved
through the crowd with the grace of a dancer.

"You love Christof don't you?" Lady Une asked as soon as the click of
the door was heard.

"Well I like him a lot, I'm not sure if you would call if love, not
yet at least."

Lady Une watched the young woman with the fiery red mane of hair.
Her eyes were the same blue as Treize's once were. It pained her to
see Mariemaia growing into a young woman who bared such likeness to
the former general.

"You seem hesitant," she finally replied, idly playing with the stem
of a Calla Lillie.

"I am," Mariemaia said turned her back on the woman she called
mother, as she hunched her shoulders.

Lady Une stepped back and watched the young woman, whom she had grown
to love as a daughter struggle with the words. She was patiently
waiting for Mariemaia to continue, she knew heartache, and she knew
what was needed.

"It's just he's getting distant. In the last few months even. He's
lost hope, maybe that would be the word, but it isn't. I don't know
how to say this… well how to express what I've noticed, but he's
bitter."

"Bitter? Towards who?"

"The world," Mariemaia explained softly, turning to face Lady Une's
calm visage. "Yesterday I overheard him reaming Dr. Iria Winner
about his mother. I could swear I heard him call her aunt!"

"Mari, it's not ladylike to swear or to eavesdrop."

"I know that! But…"

"No but's about it."

"Mama…"

Lady Une helped up a hand stopping the tirade and pulled
her "daughter" into a brief hug before gently pushing her out the
door. She had things to accomplish, mainly investigating the
parentage of one Christof Une. His mother and her family were a
mystery to be solved.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The note lay inconspicuously on the mahogany table the elegant script
citing his name Quatre Raberba Winner. His space heart spoke volumes
about the contents of the envelope.

Cathy…

He hadn't spoken with her in an age, she was in danger, and he could
feel it. But maybe it was just nerves.

Dorothy…

Things were different now, he argued. Cathy was different, she
wouldn't die, she was strong.

With a weary heart he reached for the envelope, long bronzed fingers
tracing his name before he pulled the neatly written note from its
depths.

His heart stopped as he read the contents of the letter, he dropped
it back to the wood as his face turned pale. He clutched his chest
as his world collapsed around him. She needed him, his mind kept
repeating like a mantra as he stood there stock still the note lying
on the mahogany table, glinting in the light.

I have your wife; try to find her and she dies, Monsieur I trust you
will comply with our wishes. Remember if one hint of the cavalry is
seen she meets the maker, not all can go to paradise, I doubt you
would ever see her again, even in the afterlife.

There was no signature… No one had laid claim to such a dastardly
deed. He tried to control his breathing, but his horror had been
felt. Abdul came running into the room, and his heart jumped as he
saw the state of his Master. He picked up the letter and carefully
read it, there was nothing they could do.

"Cathy…" Quatre whispered collapsing to his knees as tears flowed
from his aqua eyes. He was the picture of despair. Without her, he
was lost.

"Not again…"

v ~*~*~*~*~*~

~ To Be Continued…