Trick riding
Chapter 6 : But... He's just asking for it!

Trowa watched the red numbers follow one after another on the alarm clock. 2h11. 2h13. 2h14... He should have taken some rest, to ease the previous events from his exhausted mind, but still, he was staring blankly at that damn clock. He eventually decided to turn his head to something more soothing.

Midii was cuddled against him, holding onto him seemingly for dear life, almost in a childish way. Her even breathing and her closed eyelids told him she was in a deep sleep, but the soft pink lips kept trembling, whispering unaudible words, silent phrases, or maybe pleas... Her features were shadowed by a slight frown and the more she talked, the more her grip on him tightened. There was a point he could almost have said it was painful, but the sensation of warmth and closeness spilling in his whole being made up completely for the slight discomfort.

He observed her every moves attentively, and got no answers. He felt something itch deep inside him. Somehow, the fact that she could still be hiding things from him, the fact that he was shut out from the realm of her dreams, her most intimate thoughts, was irritating him. Staying with her meant throwing his life to the wind, for God's sake! For such a price, he needed to know everything. He wanted even more than tenderness. More than the strange bond they had developped during their childhood. More than a lover. He wanted to be a part of her, he wanted to be so close that she couldn't hide anything, that she couldn't even sigh without him to feel it.

He gazed at her once again, longingly, lovingly, frustratingly. She had stopped murmuring, she was sleeping calmly now, and he would have given anything to understand just one word of what she had said. Sensing that now wasn't the time to fight secrets -who could, anyway?- He simply opted for enjoying the presence he had needed for so long, cuddling her back and nuzzling her neck coaxingly and -he had to admit it- sleepily.

The heir of the Dragons clan kicked the heir of the Winner empire for the hundredth time, grumbling and stealing the pillow in the process, causing the sleepy head -heir- to wake up. Quatre scratched his head in an ungentlemanly manner, as he was nearly kicked out the couch by Wufei. He was about to try to sleep again, when a faint sigh and a sound of rumpled sheets tickled his ears. So demons did sleep too. A few devilish thoughts crossed his mind -Tying her to the bed, No, she could get it the wrong way, put a living moray eel in the bed, Did he even have more than a spider to put in that bed?- Eventually, he steeled his resolve and decided against those appealing prospects. Still. Wufei had released him of both the cover and the pillow. Maybe...

He tiptoed carefully towards the bed and began pulling ever so slightly at the pillow. No response. Good. There was a chance.

He became bolder and grabbed the cover at the same time.

Tug. Tug.

...

Tug. Tug. Tug.

... ..

Tug. Tu-

He barely had the time to think. A hand took his right wrist in an iron grip, the cover flew, and in an instant, he found himself landing on the floor with an audible 'boom', in an undignified position that had, unfortunatly, become usual to him. 'Here we go again' Quatre thought as an irate Shaolin straddled him firmly, suppressing any plan he could have formed to get up.

"Do you want me to beg you or something...?" He sighed wearily, not even bothering to raise up his head and look at her.

That was the moment Wufei choosed to turn the light on and intervene.

'Life sux.' To the new arrivant, there was no doubt about the way the scene had to be taken.

"B... Beg this onna??" Wufei stammered, red as well with anger than with embarassment. "Winner... I thought we had agreed to be strong! Have you no honor?"

Surprisingly, it was Shaolin herself who tried to defend their "honor".

"Hey... Slow down rat-tail boy! It's not what you think! Keep your sleazy ideas for yourself!" She hissed, getting up, at long last, but too late, from her prey.

"Sleazy?? I don't need to have ideas! You two seem already imaginative enough!!" He spat, taking the precious pillow and cover with him to sleep in the bathroom.

Shaolin looked down at herself for the first time. 'Note to self : BAN the panties/top combination from the night wardrobe. DO ALWAYS sleep in a ski-suit.'

And so, when Trowa knocked at the door and came in the morning, he found Quatre, lying on the couch and casting mocking and knowing glances at Shaolin from time to time, the latter being huddled in the covers, obviously waitng for him to die from the cold or something.

He didn't have the time to ask where Wufei was, as a gruff and wary voice snapped from the bathroom, "Are you two done, so we can all dress up and leave this fleabag? Or should we book you another room??"

Trowa looked at Quatre curiously, but said nothing otherwise, while the cherry-haired monster, was, from what it seemed, trying to trigger the Winner heir's auto-combustion, only by looking -glaring- at him.

Midii entered the room, a moment later, and it didn't take her long to figure that something was wrong.

"He's out." Shaolin stated, pointing to Quatre defiantly.

"Out? I thought we needed him." Midii retorted, cocking an eyebrow.

Shaolin kept silent for a while, then replied, "Okay. But he doesn't come in the car! It's either the trunk, or he runs after the car."

"We could as well tie him to the bumpers..." Wufei said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"I vote for the trunk, then." Quatre answered, still smirking 'somehow' deviously.

"Then the trunk it is." Shaolin conclued, "As long as I don't have to stay near this..."

Trowa sighed in annoyance at her antics and opted for settling things with a good ol' 'male glare'. "Quatre will come with us, since he's a target, and thus as involved as we are. End of conversation."

She let herself fall back on the bed, huffing, "Your wish is my command, Hairgel-sama... But... Do sheeps have nine lives too?" She snarled.

The trip was extremely silent, and Trowa almost felt relieved when Quatre asked tentatively, "Uh... Nobody has explained me yet what you Ladies know, exactly." He coughed uncomfortably.

"We know that you're a f..."

Shaolin was cut short by Midii's hand, who pulled out a laptop from under the sit and a few disks. Quatre watched her doing so in a religious silence, and almost choked when the screen let appeared the graphics that he knew so well.

"So... so you know about that?!" He gasped, his eyes widening a bit more with each new file revealed.

"Now... You can tell us..." Shaolin purred dangerously, "What were you cooking up that caused those Kyuseishu guys to get so angry? And what is your monthly salary?!"

"Shao!" Midii scolded.

"But I wanna know! What the point in fucking the tax office if you can't talk about it?!"

Quatre clenched his fists, and his expression became unreadable, but definitively not friendly. "Miss. Hao. I'll have you know that I did NOT 'fuck' the tax office, this testate succession was absolutly lawful, and you are NOT to know how much I earn. I earn enough."

"Innocent people are sooooooooo annoying..." She growled, before turning to look through the window.

"I suppose we can't make things official, with you two's background, but we could at least contact Yuy, Maxwell and Marquise, to explain them that they are the targets of a worldwide plot. they really should appreciate."

Four puzzled stares turned to Wufei, who had been the security wall between Shaolin and Quatre since the beginning of the ride, and who was gazing coldly at the screen, his arms folded.

"I agree. We'll contact them as soon as we'll be arrived to your place." He stated, turnning expectantly towards Midii.

"Okay... Just leave the freeway and cross that field, there, follow the pebbly alley until you see a big oak, on the left, then you take the path, the car should just fit, and that's it."

"Trowa... I don't trust her. We're in the middle of nowhere..." Wufei sighed, as the car entered the small alley, barely enlighten by a sad dawn.

Then, without warning, Quatre, dodging Wufei's reflexes, extended his hand and shook Shaolin roughly. "Hey... I can see a wall there, is that it?"

"How would I know? I'm not a well educated brat!!"

"I can see that!"

At that point, Trowa was simply praying for the ride to just end. Now.

It had been a certain surprise. Quatre's "wall" was actually a gorgeous old manor, probably built centuries before colonies, with that peculiar both warm and cold atmosphere that had made the success of so many books.

Each room had a huge fireplace, which wasn't enough to warm up the cold and ancient walls, though and what surprised Trowa the most, was that it was actually a small 'gunshop', the thieves paradise. Ropes, computers, hardware, equipment, rare weapons, you named it, it was there.

"Are you two planning on taking over the world or something?" Wufei asked, holding gingerly what looked suspiciously like a bomb.

"Ah... No..." Midii blushed, "These are just... Our toys!"

Quatre simply stared at the ageless stones in amazement. "Who sold you this...?"

"Stop acting dumb. Your toilets are probably twice as big as the house." Shaolin snapped.

He ignore the comment and stopped, breathtaken, in front of the most impressive and complete library he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Actually," Midii explained, "This is not our house, this a friend's. We work with him, or for him, from time to time..."

Trowa's eyes narrowed at the statement. With friends armed like that, nobody needs ennemies. "Fine," He began, first, we need to know if anybody else knows about that in your company, and would could have sold the files. i guess we have enough hardware to pay a visit to the Winner corp intranet. Right?"

"Shao will do it." Midii answered, she's the best, and... Uhm... It's not as if it was a completely foreign land.

Quatre casted the young girls a suspicious stare, but decide to forget it. What was the point, anyway? "So, you need to know if anybody had access to any file concerning the data disks or my safe?"

"Basically, yes." Trowa and Midii answered simultaneously.

"And don't forget that whole 'Winner group' thing..." Wufei remarked, following silently the exchange.

"Nobody knew." Quatre stated abruptly.

"But..." Midii began.

"Nobody."

"I'll see that soon, diapers boy!" Shaolin retorted happily.

"WE'll see that soon."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not letting you hack in my system without me."

"What the f..."

"She agrees!" Midii cut hastily.

Trowa poured silently a cup of tea and handed it to Midii. The night had been too long and too short, and they needed something to stay awake, since they couldn't just fold their arms and pretend to be still listening, like Wufei, or fight each other to death and feed their adrenalin, like Quatre and Shaolin.

"It seems you're definitely on our side, now..." Trowa said, turning to Midii, who was gazing absently at the park and the grey sky, through the large window.

"I did it for you... At first, but I need to believe that I have other reasons, that I am a good person... Even if I'm not."

"You are... In your own way. And even if you weren't... I still don't know how I would resist you." He said, cracking a small smile.

Midii turned to face him and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks at his comment. Had he just said...?

He was still staring at his mug, his head bowed, "How come... How come that no matter how much trouble you bring me, I always find myself needing you?" He asked to her, as well as to himself.

"Maybe it's because no matter how much I know I disappoint you, I always think of you..." She whispered.

"You didn't disappoint me."

"You said so yourself." She gasped, a tear threatening to roll down her cheek at the memory of her sadness and her anger at his words.

"I... I meant it, that's true."

Midii's heart crumbled in her chest.

"Because I believed I couldn't trust you."

"And now?" She couldn't help it, it went out like a sob, and a tear mad its way down her pale cheek, while she waited desperatly for an answer.

"I don't know if I can trust your acts. But I know your intentions are good. I just know it."

"Do I... Do I 'half-disappoint' you?" She murmured, her head bowed, unable to meet his gaze.

"No. You're just yourself. And I take everything." He smiled.

"I guess it's a nonsense to even ask. But... Why do you hate me so much?" Quatre asked calmly, not even blinking a he was hacking in his own company's computer, for the same thieves that had relieved him of a few millions and the most valuable datas he had ever owned.

Shaolin turned to stare at him with a hard and disdainful look in her eyes. "What makes you think I hate you? To do so, I would, at least, have to care about you."

"I should have known better than ask it..." He sighed, resuming his typing.

"You should have, indeed." She retorted coldly. Then, she fingered the Group Winner data disk and gazed at him wih a thoughtful and otherwise cruel glint in her lagoon eyes.

"Now I ask the questions. Why do you care? Are you afraid that I might kill you too?" With that, she got up and walked in a slow and predatory pace towards the end of the long table where Quatre was observing her attentively through his glasses, the flickering golden flames crackling in the fire and reflecting in the lenses doing little to hide his curiosity.

"I..." She began, tapping her lips with her index finger as if she was in deep thought. "I can only suppose you stumbled on my dossier, after our first encounter." She was smiling now, an innocent and cruel smile that seemed both made up and the expression of her deepest resentment. "I killed my first man when you were probably still learning what 'Pythagoras' means, you know. I stabbed him. Nine times. Right through. And..." She observed her audience thoroughly, waiting for any sign of flinching, disgust or horror, "There was blood. Everywhere. And I watched him die. I wasn't even sad..."

She repressed a frown, as he failed to show signs of uneasiness, "I am so odious, that you can't tell how much. I can't even tell myself!" She giggled, sitting on the edge of the table, staring at him impudently.

He bowed his head, breaking the eye-contact and chuckled softly, shaking his head with a sad smile, "I find it amusing that this litle scene works with impressionable people, but you really shouldn't go around and bawl things that you don't even believe yourself."

Her features took such a look of disbelief and sheer hatred, that, for a moment, Quatre actually thought that she would be the second person to ever slap him, after Rasheed.

But the blow never came, which was scarrier, in a way.

"I believe it. He deserved this, and so do you. You are not to imply I'm weak. Never." She hissed.

"I'm not saying you are weak, " He dared, despite the warning glare he received, "But thinking that you're strong because you can do nauseous things or bitching better than any other known living form, that's weak."

She watched him in complete surprise, never had she though he could be so... Direct. But, as the deeper meaning of what he had just said sunk in, her amazement let place to rage. She was about to reply, or maybe hit him, but he cut her before she could even voice her indignation.

"Besides," He went on, with that superior and moralizing tone of his, "You have nothing to be proud of, so far, I don't know how many men I killed, probably thousands, and I'm not particularly proud."

With that, he resumed working, indicating that the chapter was closed, and she watched him silently, clenching her fists, before leaving.

He was so dead.

And it's the eeeeeeeeennnd! For now! ^_^ So? Liked it, hated it? Pleez, R&R!