T-Minus 45 minutes and counting!
May. 22nd, 2006 03:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lukon_ideinUGH! My ride should be here in 45 and then I'm out the door and on my way to Turkey!!! Can't believe it's happening already. Where the hell did the time go??? So excited but a bit nervous too. Should be fun. Hope I'll get to post while I'm there but not sure how much internet access will run me.
Oh well, time for one last story before I hit the road.
Title: Diving Lessons
Author: Lukoni
Characters/Pairing: Quatre, Trowa, Duo, Heero
Word Count: 3754
Summary: In which Quatre finds himself double-teamed.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Glistening Trowa. Frustrated Quatre. Dumbfounded Duo. Naked Heero?
Notes: Written for GW500 challenge #121: Suit.
Follow-up to Press Conference. Written in a bit of a hurry while preparing to leave town for the summer, so I’m not sure I even remember what’s in it! Hope there aren’t too many typos and missing words. Feedback/Criticism/Typo notifications welcome. Thanks for reading!
Diving Lessons
“Did you get the venue changed?”
Heero nodded and shrugged as if the answer should never have been in doubt.
“Do I want to know how?”
“Stinkbomb.”
“That’s so… Maxwellian.”
“It was effective.”
“True. So they’re still going to start at four?”
“Affirmative.”
“Perfect. Here’s your suit.”
“Suit?”
“Bathing suit.”
“This is not a ‘suit’. This is some sort of misguided sock.”
“After spending years advertising your glory in spandex shorts you’re going to complain about this?”
“One cannot… fall out of spandex shorts.”
“You won’t fall out. It’s very snug.”
“I’m sure it is. Why did I agree to this again?”
“Because Duo deserves it.”
“I’m not sure who is really being punished here.”
“Trust me. You’ll come out on top.”
********
Quatre squinted up at the late afternoon sun and considered getting out his sunglasses. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. This was supposed to be a serious, in-depth interview with the Business Man and War Hero. He had to come across as absolutely sincere, especially after this morning’s piece in the Post. He’d spent at least three hours on the phone over the course of the day with his press agent trying to calm her down and get things back on track. Early response from this morning’s massage press conference were apparently positive, but he needed to back it up with a demonstration of his solid understanding of the issues the colonies are facing and the steps WEI is taking to give back to the communities that support it.
He squared up his silk tie, a conservative yet stylish pale grey. His suit was a rare silk/linen blend from the Arabian peninsula and cut to perfection by an up and coming Italian designer whose father had made his own father’s suits. It was all just a costume, however. As much as the clown outfit was for Trowa. Not that he was allowing himself to think about Trowa right now.
Plastering on a bright smile he stepped forward. “Emily. So good to see you again.” Emily Livingston was a well-known correspondent from the Universal Broadcasting Network and was a familiar face on the political circuit. Known for her hard-hitting questions and her no-nonsense attitude, she was also sympathetic to both sides of a story and willing to listen when someone had a good point to make. She was the only one to whom Quatre had granted a personal interview this weekend, and only after he had watched all of her interviews from the previous year. After the unusual events of the last two days, however, he was not so sure this was a good idea.
“Mr. Winner, if you’ll just take a seat here,” one of the production assistants instructed. He found himself in a comfortable overstuffed chair that was strangely out of place on the veranda. He noticed for the first time that the usual dining furniture was all stacked up along the edges and a small oval carpet had been placed in the center on which his and Emily’s chairs had been arranged facing each other for an intimate chat.
“I do apologize for the setting,” Emily said as she waited for the makeup artist to finish touching up Quatre’s face. “Some juvenile delinquent set off a stinkbomb in the conference room and the manager relocated us out here.”
Quatre was slightly confused since the only person he knew around here who could answer to the description ‘juvenile delinquent’ was Duo, and he was pretty sure Duo hadn’t done it. Not without a very good reason, and certainly not without sharing said reason with Quatre first.
Perhaps misinterpreting the hint of concern on Quatre’s face, Ms. Livingston pressed on. “Don’t worry, it’s off limits to guests until we’re finished.
“Not a problem, Emily,” he assured her. “It’s very nice out here.” He hid a sly smile as he recalled yesterday’s delightfully dripping Trowa standing beneath the railing at just about this spot. But that subject was off limits for the time being. Before he could be caught staring off into space he let his gaze take in the whole scene before him. The perfectly manicured hedgerows and decorative fountain to his right; the shimmering blue swimming pool dwarfed by towering palm trees just beyond Emily’s shoulder; the brilliantly colorful flower boxes and elegantly curving wrought iron lanterns of the hotel patio to his left.
“We’re ready,” a man behind the camera called.
“Shall we begin, then,” the interviewer asked solicitously of her intended victim.
“By all means,” Quatre replied calmly. She signaled to the director and a red light on the camera turned on.
“My guest tonight,” Emily began, “is known to most of you for his efforts during the Eve Wars. But he is also the inheritor of a fortune estimated at just under 9 billion credits, the youngest ever CEO of a Fortune 500 company, guardian of over 30,000 jobs, and, some believe, future Senator.” Quatre made suitably deprecating motions to deny his political ambitions.
“Quatre Winner, thank you for agreeing to this interview.”
“It is my… pleasure, Emily.” Quatre felt the smile freeze on his face he caught sight of something that made his stomach sink. Out of the corner of his eye, just beyond the blonde woman’s shoulder, could be seen a tightly muscled back and long, powerful arms cutting through the water. A very familiar muscled back. One he’d had his hands on that very morning. Trowa was swimming laps. Fucking bastard.
“You don’t grant many personal interviews. Why is that? And why accept this one now?”
Quatre firmly plastered his gaze on Ms. Livinston’s eyebrows and addressed the question without the slightest hesitation. It’ll take more than that, Barton.
“I’m glad you asked that. You see, Winner Enterprises is a family business. Many of my sisters are actively involved in the running of individual departments or divisions. And those managers who are not family work just as hard as they do. As do all our employees down to the proverbial intern in the mailroom. I am just a small part of that great system, and I don’t want Winner Enterprises to be about me and my unusual background. I want the work of the company to stand on its own merits.”
“Spoken like a true politician.”
“Now I’d like to make it clear right now that I have no intention of running for any sort of political office in the near future. Things are going well right now, but there is much more work to be done, and I feel that I am best able to be of service to society from the position I am in right now.” In the distance, Trowa’s tight ass disappeared behind Emily’s head, followed by long, kicking legs.
“Do you feel you can use your financial power to force change that you could not achieve through legislation.” That effectively drew Quatre’s attention away from buttocks for the time being.
“I am not attempting to force change on anyone. However, politicians are often constrained by certain limitations. All parties have to move down the road together, and sometimes it takes a long time to get everyone going in the right direction. The research programs and rehabilitation programs undertaken by Winner Enterprises allow us to help some people in the short term and to gain working models that can be tested and proven effective and which then may be applied by legislators on a larger scale.”
“What do you say to critics who see Winner Enterprises as your own personal playground with you as its god?”
Quatre was torn between anger and frustration as Trowa chose this moment to haul himself out of the pool, water cascading down his back and over his beautifully rounded ass, barely clad in the most pathetic excuse for a bathing suit he’d ever seen.
“God,” he said, forcing his eyes back to the blonde, “taught us to care for our fellow man. I do not think it is playing God to attempt to help provide people with food and clothing and clean water when they have none of their own. That is basic human decency, not divine ambition.” Another movement caught is eye, and to his left, just outside the door into the dining room, he saw Duo giving him a one-sided high-five.
“But do you not, in deciding who to help, in some way act as a god, determining people’s fates?”
“And so I should help no one?” Quatre countered. Emily smiled tightly. Trowa was now standing by the edge of the pool talking earnestly with a naked man. His felt his eyebrows quirk in surprise before he could stop them. Dear God, it was Heero. Wearing something resembling a black condom on his crotch. He wondered if Duo had noticed. A quick check indicated he had not, and Quatre tried to prompt him look that way with a subtle shift of his eyes. Duo just looked confused.
“What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?” Quatre snapped his gaze back to his task, but could feel a devilish pull trying to lure it back to the pool.
“All I do is field proposals from people who see a need they wish to address. Our board decides which projects are feasible and have the most chance of being effective.”
“But you…
“I have made my fair share of proposals to the board. I travel a great deal and have more opportunities to see areas of need. Not all have been accepted. We are still a company functioning on a profit model and we can’t save the world by ourselves. But by doing what little we can do, we hope to provide an example to others.” Quatre stopped for a breath, and was quickly entranced by the sight of Trowa standing on his tiptoes with his arms fully stretched out above his head. A heartwarming sight indeed. And groinwarming. A flash of glistening skin and Trowa was cutting like a sleek arrow into the water.
“What of allegations of favoritism? It is true, is it not, that you awarded a lucrative salvage contract to your friend and fellow Gundam pilot Duo Maxwell?”
He tried to quickly catch Duo’s eye to share an ‘I’m so sick of this question’ moment, but Duo was a bit preoccupied. Apparently he’d noticed Heero too. Another flash of flesh. Another splash. Heero needed to point his toes.
“As I told your colleague, Don Wolfson, last September, that project was open to bids for a full year, we received just over 200 bids and, in all, 35 contracts were awarded. Mr. Maxwell submitted an attractive…” Trowa was now standing behind Heero, his hands on the shorter pilot’s shoulders, while Heero stretched himself upward in imitation of Trowa’s previous position. “…bid, and the board voted to accept it. He was also the perfect person for that particular portion of the project. Mr. Maxwell’s experience with Gundam mechanics was an important ass…” Trowa was now bending over at the waist making a right angle of his perfect body, and encouraging Heero to do the same. “…et, since he knew how to work safely with the very dangerous engine components of the suits he was dismantling. There were no favors granted. Duo earned that job.”
“But he is your friend.”
“Certainly. Just like the girl who put on my makeup before this interview has been your friend since junior high school. But that doesn’t mean she’s not good at her job.”
Ms. Livingston was temporarily taken aback. Quatre used the time to silently thank his press agent and her new assistant for their research skills, while surreptitiously watching Trowa leap up from the end of the diving board, lazily stretching forward to touch his toes, then opening up to slip cleanly into the pool. Quatre crossed his legs. Firmly. Groin angled away from the camera.
“And what of allegations that your connections to high-ranking Preventers officers has allowed you access to privileged information and has allowed you to circumvent normal channels?”
“I’d say that you are insulting Commander Une by implying that she grants special favors. Anyone who knows her, knows that isn’t the case.” Quatre swallowed as he caught sight of some special favors being granted down by the pool – Trowa stood directly behind Heero, holding the shorter pilot’s hips, as Heero bent over with his arms stretched out. Surely this couldn’t be legal. If only he could get a message to Wu Fei to have them arrested. Perhaps Duo had thought of… No. Duo was staring open mouthed at the pair and Quatre could have sworn his braid was quivering.
“Clearly you had advanced warning of Mr. Tivka’s arrest last spring,” pressed Ms. Livingston, who was blissfully ignorant of the little show going on behind her.
“Yes, I did,” agreed Quatre. He forced himself to concentrate on his response, as it was one of the points he had come here to make. “The reason for that, however, is not corruption among the Preventers.” A quiet splash met his ears but he resolutely ignored it. “The reason is simply that I was the one who turned him in.”
Ms. Livingston actually looked a bit surprised. Apparently word hadn’t gotten around yet. Before she could inquire further, Quatre rolled out his story, fully approved by Une, and only leaving out a few minor details. “I was considering purchasing one of Tivka’s production divisions. In the process of conducting the usual background research on the company a few discrepancies became evident. I put several of my staff on it and they turned up some disturbing facts concerning the company’s safety record and what appeared to be the acquisition of sub-par materials.” Quatre didn’t mention the off-planet bank accounts he’d traced and the corrupt customs officer he’d discovered. With Heero’s help. Heero, who was now standing, practically naked, on the end of the diving board with Trowa’s arm wrapped around from behind, his hand resting firmly on Heero’s stomach. Quatre suddenly wished that his empathic powers could broadcast as well as received, because Trowa would be getting a serious mindful right about now.
“And you turned this information over to Commander Une.”
“I did. She assigned agents to investigate and the rest you know. The fact that I stopped acquisition proceedings well in advance of Tivka’s arrest was not because she tipped me off, but quite the opposite.” Another splash from the pool. Trowa stood glistening in the deep orange rays of sunlight, his arms crossed, his chest perfectly tones, waiting as patiently as a Greek statue for Heero to resurface.
“Why is this the first time anyone has mentioned these events?”
“The information was classified in order to protect the safety of certain individuals involved. Now that certain subsidiary arrests have been made recently, Commander Une has allowed me to discuss my role in the case publicly. And I believe you will find many of the allegations you mentioned were actually made by Tivka’s supporters now that much of his chain of influence and corruption has been revealed.”
“Were you one of the individuals who needed protection?”
Quatre briefly allowed himself to look vulnerable. It is never good to come across as completely impervious and superior. “Unfortunately, due to my position and my war record, there are frequent threats to my safety. But I am lucky enough to have a group of highly qualified men who have dedicated themselves to my safety. I probably don’t deserve their regard, but they were loyal to my father and they were gracious enough to transfer their loyalty to me.” Of course, if they were truly loyal, they would have had Trowa trussed up by now and waiting in Quatre’s bed, instead of… of… doing a double back somersault with his legs all pulled up and apart so that his emerald bathing suit just drew the eye in…
“…did not feel any more threatened after the Tivka case?”
Dammit. That banged bastard was impeding his concentration. This could not go unpunished. “No. There were no specific threats to my life, but there were others in danger and I was happy to cooperate with Commander Une’s efforts to protect them, despite the damage keeping silent caused to my reputation.”
“How different is this kind is this kind of battle – a business battle – compare to your experiences during the war.”
Quatre was expecting this sort of retrospective question somewhere along the line so he was not unprepared for it, but he took a few moments to answer, looking pensively off into the distance. At Trowa supporting Heero’s back as the cobalt-eyed pilot arched fully backward until his hands hit the edge of the pool, then sent one muscular leg over his head followed by the other, landing with a splash in the water. He still needed to point his toes.
“The battles I face today are, in some ways, not so different from the war. There are still many different factions with their own agendas that need to be studied and understood before action can be taken. The main difference now is that it is livelihoods rather than lives that I am responsible for. But that doesn’t make them any less important.” Trowa was now doing a handstand at the end of the board, his bangs hanging down to brush at his wrists, his balls… apparently defying gravity as they remained in the small strip of cloth they were wrapped in. He clenched his legs tighter together, hoping the slight sheen of perspiration he was feeling was not showing too distinctly on camera. This particular battle, he could fully admit, was like nothing he’d ever experienced during the war. But he’d still win, he was sure.
“Do you still see yourself as fighting for the colonies?”
Quatre glanced over at Duo, who was always advocating colonial rights, but he was no longer there. Quatre couldn’t help but feel abandoned in his time of need. Fine. He would fight this battle on his own.
“It’s not so much of a fight. Fighting implies short, intense activity. My work for the colonies and for the people of earth are, I hope, long and steady. Like farming. It continues, year in year out; it’s not very glamorous, but it’s necessary and it’s rewarding. Peace is a beautiful thing but it does not solve everyone’s problems. We all must continue working towards bettering everyone’s lives, not just our own.” That noble sentiment was punctuated by Trowa catching Heero’s feet as he got himself up into a handstand. Heero’s balls, too, seemed to resist gravity, and by some miracle remained snug in their meager sheath. He noticed Trowa firmly press Heero’s toes back until they were properly pointed.
“And your life, Quatre? Any thoughts of bettering it with a wife or children.” Wives were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment and it took an effort not to laugh at the question. Heero somehow contorted his body and disappeared into the water.
“My schedule leaves me little time for personal relationships at the moment. But as I mentioned earlier today, if I can find someone flexible enough, I’d love to give it a try.”
“I’m sure many people are wondering, after this morning’s… press conference, just what is the nature of your relationship with Trowa Barton?” Strangely, the question brought an image of whipped cream into his mind. Clearly Ms. Livingston was hoping to get a reaction out him at the bluntness of her question, but she was sorely disappointed by his calm demeanor. If she’d be aware of his supreme efforts at composure for the last half an hour she would have understood.
“There is nothing to wonder about. We are friends who haven’t seen each other for a number of years, and who are enjoying getting to know each other again.”
“And that’s it?”
“You want to know if we are sleeping together?” In a New York minute, if he had his say in the matter.
“I wouldn’t…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not offended. One must have a very thick skin to survive in the public eye. But to be fair to Trowa, who is not used to having his love life paraded through the tabloids, I will say that we are not romantically involved and never have been.” His pointed stare curtailed any further questions Ms. Livingston had on the matter, so she instead wrapped up the interview. Heero and Trowa were standing close together near the diving board toweling off, looking as innocent at the day they were born. Fiends.
As soon as the cameras stopped, Emily leaned forward to shake hands, all traces of an adversarial stance forgotten. “Thank you so much for your time, Quatre. And you must tell me how you found out about my relationship with Trina.”
“Now, now, you know I must protect my sources,” Quatre returned.
“Touché. Still, good work. I haven’t been that surprised in an interview in a long time! And I’m sorry about all the noise down at the pool. Mr. Yuy said that he and his men could operate more effectively if they pretended they were ordinary hotel guests.” Quatre’s smiled widened considerably while his eyes narrowed.
“Oh he did, did he?”
“Yes, bur he warned the sound engineer, so it shouldn’t come through on the interview.”
“That is good news.” Thoughts of revenge were now expanding to include a certain blue-eyed, Japanese, traitorous dog of a pilot. Duo suddenly reappeared by the doorway, bouncing restlessly and signaling him to get his ass over there.
He politely took his leave of the reporter after making arrangements to have a copy sent to his press secretary before it aired. Then he sidled over to Duo, trying not to hiss as his hard cock rubbed against the inside of his trousers.
Once he got there he glanced back to make sure the news crew was not still rolling. Sound equipment was being quickly stowed in large metal cases. The coast was clear. Duo triumphantly held up one hand to reveal to small black cards that looked suspiciously like hotel room pass keys.
“What are those?”
“Keys to their rooms. I stole them from Heero while he was making a spectacle of himself.”
“We’re supposed to meet Relena for dinner at seven.”
“Don’t be late,” chirped Duo who winked saucily and turned away.
“I make no promises,” Quatre called after him, slipping the small card into his pocket. He whistled softly to himself as he disappeared back into the hotel.
- fin -
Oh well, time for one last story before I hit the road.
Title: Diving Lessons
Author: Lukoni
Characters/Pairing: Quatre, Trowa, Duo, Heero
Word Count: 3754
Summary: In which Quatre finds himself double-teamed.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Glistening Trowa. Frustrated Quatre. Dumbfounded Duo. Naked Heero?
Notes: Written for GW500 challenge #121: Suit.
Follow-up to Press Conference. Written in a bit of a hurry while preparing to leave town for the summer, so I’m not sure I even remember what’s in it! Hope there aren’t too many typos and missing words. Feedback/Criticism/Typo notifications welcome. Thanks for reading!
Diving Lessons
“Did you get the venue changed?”
Heero nodded and shrugged as if the answer should never have been in doubt.
“Do I want to know how?”
“Stinkbomb.”
“That’s so… Maxwellian.”
“It was effective.”
“True. So they’re still going to start at four?”
“Affirmative.”
“Perfect. Here’s your suit.”
“Suit?”
“Bathing suit.”
“This is not a ‘suit’. This is some sort of misguided sock.”
“After spending years advertising your glory in spandex shorts you’re going to complain about this?”
“One cannot… fall out of spandex shorts.”
“You won’t fall out. It’s very snug.”
“I’m sure it is. Why did I agree to this again?”
“Because Duo deserves it.”
“I’m not sure who is really being punished here.”
“Trust me. You’ll come out on top.”
********
Quatre squinted up at the late afternoon sun and considered getting out his sunglasses. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. This was supposed to be a serious, in-depth interview with the Business Man and War Hero. He had to come across as absolutely sincere, especially after this morning’s piece in the Post. He’d spent at least three hours on the phone over the course of the day with his press agent trying to calm her down and get things back on track. Early response from this morning’s massage press conference were apparently positive, but he needed to back it up with a demonstration of his solid understanding of the issues the colonies are facing and the steps WEI is taking to give back to the communities that support it.
He squared up his silk tie, a conservative yet stylish pale grey. His suit was a rare silk/linen blend from the Arabian peninsula and cut to perfection by an up and coming Italian designer whose father had made his own father’s suits. It was all just a costume, however. As much as the clown outfit was for Trowa. Not that he was allowing himself to think about Trowa right now.
Plastering on a bright smile he stepped forward. “Emily. So good to see you again.” Emily Livingston was a well-known correspondent from the Universal Broadcasting Network and was a familiar face on the political circuit. Known for her hard-hitting questions and her no-nonsense attitude, she was also sympathetic to both sides of a story and willing to listen when someone had a good point to make. She was the only one to whom Quatre had granted a personal interview this weekend, and only after he had watched all of her interviews from the previous year. After the unusual events of the last two days, however, he was not so sure this was a good idea.
“Mr. Winner, if you’ll just take a seat here,” one of the production assistants instructed. He found himself in a comfortable overstuffed chair that was strangely out of place on the veranda. He noticed for the first time that the usual dining furniture was all stacked up along the edges and a small oval carpet had been placed in the center on which his and Emily’s chairs had been arranged facing each other for an intimate chat.
“I do apologize for the setting,” Emily said as she waited for the makeup artist to finish touching up Quatre’s face. “Some juvenile delinquent set off a stinkbomb in the conference room and the manager relocated us out here.”
Quatre was slightly confused since the only person he knew around here who could answer to the description ‘juvenile delinquent’ was Duo, and he was pretty sure Duo hadn’t done it. Not without a very good reason, and certainly not without sharing said reason with Quatre first.
Perhaps misinterpreting the hint of concern on Quatre’s face, Ms. Livingston pressed on. “Don’t worry, it’s off limits to guests until we’re finished.
“Not a problem, Emily,” he assured her. “It’s very nice out here.” He hid a sly smile as he recalled yesterday’s delightfully dripping Trowa standing beneath the railing at just about this spot. But that subject was off limits for the time being. Before he could be caught staring off into space he let his gaze take in the whole scene before him. The perfectly manicured hedgerows and decorative fountain to his right; the shimmering blue swimming pool dwarfed by towering palm trees just beyond Emily’s shoulder; the brilliantly colorful flower boxes and elegantly curving wrought iron lanterns of the hotel patio to his left.
“We’re ready,” a man behind the camera called.
“Shall we begin, then,” the interviewer asked solicitously of her intended victim.
“By all means,” Quatre replied calmly. She signaled to the director and a red light on the camera turned on.
“My guest tonight,” Emily began, “is known to most of you for his efforts during the Eve Wars. But he is also the inheritor of a fortune estimated at just under 9 billion credits, the youngest ever CEO of a Fortune 500 company, guardian of over 30,000 jobs, and, some believe, future Senator.” Quatre made suitably deprecating motions to deny his political ambitions.
“Quatre Winner, thank you for agreeing to this interview.”
“It is my… pleasure, Emily.” Quatre felt the smile freeze on his face he caught sight of something that made his stomach sink. Out of the corner of his eye, just beyond the blonde woman’s shoulder, could be seen a tightly muscled back and long, powerful arms cutting through the water. A very familiar muscled back. One he’d had his hands on that very morning. Trowa was swimming laps. Fucking bastard.
“You don’t grant many personal interviews. Why is that? And why accept this one now?”
Quatre firmly plastered his gaze on Ms. Livinston’s eyebrows and addressed the question without the slightest hesitation. It’ll take more than that, Barton.
“I’m glad you asked that. You see, Winner Enterprises is a family business. Many of my sisters are actively involved in the running of individual departments or divisions. And those managers who are not family work just as hard as they do. As do all our employees down to the proverbial intern in the mailroom. I am just a small part of that great system, and I don’t want Winner Enterprises to be about me and my unusual background. I want the work of the company to stand on its own merits.”
“Spoken like a true politician.”
“Now I’d like to make it clear right now that I have no intention of running for any sort of political office in the near future. Things are going well right now, but there is much more work to be done, and I feel that I am best able to be of service to society from the position I am in right now.” In the distance, Trowa’s tight ass disappeared behind Emily’s head, followed by long, kicking legs.
“Do you feel you can use your financial power to force change that you could not achieve through legislation.” That effectively drew Quatre’s attention away from buttocks for the time being.
“I am not attempting to force change on anyone. However, politicians are often constrained by certain limitations. All parties have to move down the road together, and sometimes it takes a long time to get everyone going in the right direction. The research programs and rehabilitation programs undertaken by Winner Enterprises allow us to help some people in the short term and to gain working models that can be tested and proven effective and which then may be applied by legislators on a larger scale.”
“What do you say to critics who see Winner Enterprises as your own personal playground with you as its god?”
Quatre was torn between anger and frustration as Trowa chose this moment to haul himself out of the pool, water cascading down his back and over his beautifully rounded ass, barely clad in the most pathetic excuse for a bathing suit he’d ever seen.
“God,” he said, forcing his eyes back to the blonde, “taught us to care for our fellow man. I do not think it is playing God to attempt to help provide people with food and clothing and clean water when they have none of their own. That is basic human decency, not divine ambition.” Another movement caught is eye, and to his left, just outside the door into the dining room, he saw Duo giving him a one-sided high-five.
“But do you not, in deciding who to help, in some way act as a god, determining people’s fates?”
“And so I should help no one?” Quatre countered. Emily smiled tightly. Trowa was now standing by the edge of the pool talking earnestly with a naked man. His felt his eyebrows quirk in surprise before he could stop them. Dear God, it was Heero. Wearing something resembling a black condom on his crotch. He wondered if Duo had noticed. A quick check indicated he had not, and Quatre tried to prompt him look that way with a subtle shift of his eyes. Duo just looked confused.
“What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?” Quatre snapped his gaze back to his task, but could feel a devilish pull trying to lure it back to the pool.
“All I do is field proposals from people who see a need they wish to address. Our board decides which projects are feasible and have the most chance of being effective.”
“But you…
“I have made my fair share of proposals to the board. I travel a great deal and have more opportunities to see areas of need. Not all have been accepted. We are still a company functioning on a profit model and we can’t save the world by ourselves. But by doing what little we can do, we hope to provide an example to others.” Quatre stopped for a breath, and was quickly entranced by the sight of Trowa standing on his tiptoes with his arms fully stretched out above his head. A heartwarming sight indeed. And groinwarming. A flash of glistening skin and Trowa was cutting like a sleek arrow into the water.
“What of allegations of favoritism? It is true, is it not, that you awarded a lucrative salvage contract to your friend and fellow Gundam pilot Duo Maxwell?”
He tried to quickly catch Duo’s eye to share an ‘I’m so sick of this question’ moment, but Duo was a bit preoccupied. Apparently he’d noticed Heero too. Another flash of flesh. Another splash. Heero needed to point his toes.
“As I told your colleague, Don Wolfson, last September, that project was open to bids for a full year, we received just over 200 bids and, in all, 35 contracts were awarded. Mr. Maxwell submitted an attractive…” Trowa was now standing behind Heero, his hands on the shorter pilot’s shoulders, while Heero stretched himself upward in imitation of Trowa’s previous position. “…bid, and the board voted to accept it. He was also the perfect person for that particular portion of the project. Mr. Maxwell’s experience with Gundam mechanics was an important ass…” Trowa was now bending over at the waist making a right angle of his perfect body, and encouraging Heero to do the same. “…et, since he knew how to work safely with the very dangerous engine components of the suits he was dismantling. There were no favors granted. Duo earned that job.”
“But he is your friend.”
“Certainly. Just like the girl who put on my makeup before this interview has been your friend since junior high school. But that doesn’t mean she’s not good at her job.”
Ms. Livingston was temporarily taken aback. Quatre used the time to silently thank his press agent and her new assistant for their research skills, while surreptitiously watching Trowa leap up from the end of the diving board, lazily stretching forward to touch his toes, then opening up to slip cleanly into the pool. Quatre crossed his legs. Firmly. Groin angled away from the camera.
“And what of allegations that your connections to high-ranking Preventers officers has allowed you access to privileged information and has allowed you to circumvent normal channels?”
“I’d say that you are insulting Commander Une by implying that she grants special favors. Anyone who knows her, knows that isn’t the case.” Quatre swallowed as he caught sight of some special favors being granted down by the pool – Trowa stood directly behind Heero, holding the shorter pilot’s hips, as Heero bent over with his arms stretched out. Surely this couldn’t be legal. If only he could get a message to Wu Fei to have them arrested. Perhaps Duo had thought of… No. Duo was staring open mouthed at the pair and Quatre could have sworn his braid was quivering.
“Clearly you had advanced warning of Mr. Tivka’s arrest last spring,” pressed Ms. Livingston, who was blissfully ignorant of the little show going on behind her.
“Yes, I did,” agreed Quatre. He forced himself to concentrate on his response, as it was one of the points he had come here to make. “The reason for that, however, is not corruption among the Preventers.” A quiet splash met his ears but he resolutely ignored it. “The reason is simply that I was the one who turned him in.”
Ms. Livingston actually looked a bit surprised. Apparently word hadn’t gotten around yet. Before she could inquire further, Quatre rolled out his story, fully approved by Une, and only leaving out a few minor details. “I was considering purchasing one of Tivka’s production divisions. In the process of conducting the usual background research on the company a few discrepancies became evident. I put several of my staff on it and they turned up some disturbing facts concerning the company’s safety record and what appeared to be the acquisition of sub-par materials.” Quatre didn’t mention the off-planet bank accounts he’d traced and the corrupt customs officer he’d discovered. With Heero’s help. Heero, who was now standing, practically naked, on the end of the diving board with Trowa’s arm wrapped around from behind, his hand resting firmly on Heero’s stomach. Quatre suddenly wished that his empathic powers could broadcast as well as received, because Trowa would be getting a serious mindful right about now.
“And you turned this information over to Commander Une.”
“I did. She assigned agents to investigate and the rest you know. The fact that I stopped acquisition proceedings well in advance of Tivka’s arrest was not because she tipped me off, but quite the opposite.” Another splash from the pool. Trowa stood glistening in the deep orange rays of sunlight, his arms crossed, his chest perfectly tones, waiting as patiently as a Greek statue for Heero to resurface.
“Why is this the first time anyone has mentioned these events?”
“The information was classified in order to protect the safety of certain individuals involved. Now that certain subsidiary arrests have been made recently, Commander Une has allowed me to discuss my role in the case publicly. And I believe you will find many of the allegations you mentioned were actually made by Tivka’s supporters now that much of his chain of influence and corruption has been revealed.”
“Were you one of the individuals who needed protection?”
Quatre briefly allowed himself to look vulnerable. It is never good to come across as completely impervious and superior. “Unfortunately, due to my position and my war record, there are frequent threats to my safety. But I am lucky enough to have a group of highly qualified men who have dedicated themselves to my safety. I probably don’t deserve their regard, but they were loyal to my father and they were gracious enough to transfer their loyalty to me.” Of course, if they were truly loyal, they would have had Trowa trussed up by now and waiting in Quatre’s bed, instead of… of… doing a double back somersault with his legs all pulled up and apart so that his emerald bathing suit just drew the eye in…
“…did not feel any more threatened after the Tivka case?”
Dammit. That banged bastard was impeding his concentration. This could not go unpunished. “No. There were no specific threats to my life, but there were others in danger and I was happy to cooperate with Commander Une’s efforts to protect them, despite the damage keeping silent caused to my reputation.”
“How different is this kind is this kind of battle – a business battle – compare to your experiences during the war.”
Quatre was expecting this sort of retrospective question somewhere along the line so he was not unprepared for it, but he took a few moments to answer, looking pensively off into the distance. At Trowa supporting Heero’s back as the cobalt-eyed pilot arched fully backward until his hands hit the edge of the pool, then sent one muscular leg over his head followed by the other, landing with a splash in the water. He still needed to point his toes.
“The battles I face today are, in some ways, not so different from the war. There are still many different factions with their own agendas that need to be studied and understood before action can be taken. The main difference now is that it is livelihoods rather than lives that I am responsible for. But that doesn’t make them any less important.” Trowa was now doing a handstand at the end of the board, his bangs hanging down to brush at his wrists, his balls… apparently defying gravity as they remained in the small strip of cloth they were wrapped in. He clenched his legs tighter together, hoping the slight sheen of perspiration he was feeling was not showing too distinctly on camera. This particular battle, he could fully admit, was like nothing he’d ever experienced during the war. But he’d still win, he was sure.
“Do you still see yourself as fighting for the colonies?”
Quatre glanced over at Duo, who was always advocating colonial rights, but he was no longer there. Quatre couldn’t help but feel abandoned in his time of need. Fine. He would fight this battle on his own.
“It’s not so much of a fight. Fighting implies short, intense activity. My work for the colonies and for the people of earth are, I hope, long and steady. Like farming. It continues, year in year out; it’s not very glamorous, but it’s necessary and it’s rewarding. Peace is a beautiful thing but it does not solve everyone’s problems. We all must continue working towards bettering everyone’s lives, not just our own.” That noble sentiment was punctuated by Trowa catching Heero’s feet as he got himself up into a handstand. Heero’s balls, too, seemed to resist gravity, and by some miracle remained snug in their meager sheath. He noticed Trowa firmly press Heero’s toes back until they were properly pointed.
“And your life, Quatre? Any thoughts of bettering it with a wife or children.” Wives were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment and it took an effort not to laugh at the question. Heero somehow contorted his body and disappeared into the water.
“My schedule leaves me little time for personal relationships at the moment. But as I mentioned earlier today, if I can find someone flexible enough, I’d love to give it a try.”
“I’m sure many people are wondering, after this morning’s… press conference, just what is the nature of your relationship with Trowa Barton?” Strangely, the question brought an image of whipped cream into his mind. Clearly Ms. Livingston was hoping to get a reaction out him at the bluntness of her question, but she was sorely disappointed by his calm demeanor. If she’d be aware of his supreme efforts at composure for the last half an hour she would have understood.
“There is nothing to wonder about. We are friends who haven’t seen each other for a number of years, and who are enjoying getting to know each other again.”
“And that’s it?”
“You want to know if we are sleeping together?” In a New York minute, if he had his say in the matter.
“I wouldn’t…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not offended. One must have a very thick skin to survive in the public eye. But to be fair to Trowa, who is not used to having his love life paraded through the tabloids, I will say that we are not romantically involved and never have been.” His pointed stare curtailed any further questions Ms. Livingston had on the matter, so she instead wrapped up the interview. Heero and Trowa were standing close together near the diving board toweling off, looking as innocent at the day they were born. Fiends.
As soon as the cameras stopped, Emily leaned forward to shake hands, all traces of an adversarial stance forgotten. “Thank you so much for your time, Quatre. And you must tell me how you found out about my relationship with Trina.”
“Now, now, you know I must protect my sources,” Quatre returned.
“Touché. Still, good work. I haven’t been that surprised in an interview in a long time! And I’m sorry about all the noise down at the pool. Mr. Yuy said that he and his men could operate more effectively if they pretended they were ordinary hotel guests.” Quatre’s smiled widened considerably while his eyes narrowed.
“Oh he did, did he?”
“Yes, bur he warned the sound engineer, so it shouldn’t come through on the interview.”
“That is good news.” Thoughts of revenge were now expanding to include a certain blue-eyed, Japanese, traitorous dog of a pilot. Duo suddenly reappeared by the doorway, bouncing restlessly and signaling him to get his ass over there.
He politely took his leave of the reporter after making arrangements to have a copy sent to his press secretary before it aired. Then he sidled over to Duo, trying not to hiss as his hard cock rubbed against the inside of his trousers.
Once he got there he glanced back to make sure the news crew was not still rolling. Sound equipment was being quickly stowed in large metal cases. The coast was clear. Duo triumphantly held up one hand to reveal to small black cards that looked suspiciously like hotel room pass keys.
“What are those?”
“Keys to their rooms. I stole them from Heero while he was making a spectacle of himself.”
“We’re supposed to meet Relena for dinner at seven.”
“Don’t be late,” chirped Duo who winked saucily and turned away.
“I make no promises,” Quatre called after him, slipping the small card into his pocket. He whistled softly to himself as he disappeared back into the hotel.
- fin -
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2006-05-22 09:58 pm (UTC)I do hope you will continue this when you're able.
no subject
on 2006-05-26 06:00 am (UTC)Will do my best to update when I can. Thanks for the feedback!
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on 2006-05-22 10:08 pm (UTC)You have no need to worry about stressing over these. You're doing a wonderful job and each one gets better!
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on 2006-05-26 06:03 am (UTC)Thanks for all the encouragement!! It's been a great help. You rock!
no subject
on 2006-05-26 08:22 am (UTC)*blushes* You're welcome.
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on 2006-05-22 10:19 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-05-26 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-05-22 10:37 pm (UTC)Can't wait for the next ep!
Hope you have a lovely time in Turkey- I'm off there with the family next Summer and can't wait!
no subject
on 2006-05-26 06:10 am (UTC)Ooh, you're going to Turkey too? Neat! What part? I'm in Bodrum right now, and it is completely beautiful. Everyone's been really friendly, too, even though I can only speak one word of Turkish. (Hope to be better at that by the end of the summer.)
no subject
on 2006-05-26 06:04 pm (UTC)And as regards Quatre and Trowa- well, I may have a one-track mind, but the sooner they get together the better!!! Lol
And I'm still loving that "misguided sock" comment- priceless XD
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on 2006-05-22 11:09 pm (UTC)And HEEEE! You took my crazy middle of the night idea sorta, and made it WAYYYYY better! That was freaking HILARIOUS. I love it!
They just keep getting better and better! ^______^
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on 2006-05-26 06:15 am (UTC)So glad you liked what I ended up doing with it! Was afraid it might be too much of a repeat of the previous one, what with press interaction and all that. But come on, how could I resist Trowa and Heero teaming up for public groping?? Muahahahaaaa.
Thanks so much for the feedback!!!
no subject
on 2006-05-23 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-05-26 06:23 am (UTC)Will certainly try to add a new part sometime this summer. But will have to wrap it up soon, though - they're rapidly running out of weekend, after all!
no subject
on 2006-05-23 06:16 pm (UTC)this was so much fun and also quite hot! i clicked back to read all the previous parts. the ball boy and this one are my favourites, i think. poor quatre, though he did a great job keeping on track with the interview. trowa is evil!
this line: Heero, who was now standing, practically naked, on the end of the diving board with Trowa's arm wrapped around from behind, his hand resting firmly on Trowa's stomach. ... *brains melts*
*in best oliver twist voice* please, can i have some more?
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on 2006-05-26 06:30 am (UTC)Uh oh - so glad you loved that line, but I just realized it was supposed to be Trowa's hand on Heero's stomach (curse me and my rush out the door). Cuz T is standing snug up behind H and helping H adjust his posture (yeah, that's it, his posture). Does that make it less hot?? Sorry! (And sorry about the melty brains - it seems to be a regular hazard of this site - happens to me all the time!)
I'll try, Oliver. I'll try. : )
no subject
on 2006-05-26 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-05-24 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-05-26 06:35 am (UTC)So glad you like this one, though. Thanks for following the series and feeding my feedback craving!