Two character challenge
Title: Friends Like These
Author: ingvild
Characters: Dorothy, Trowa, Quatre, others
Rating/Word Count: G, 606 words
Notes: It’s still Wednesday somewhere, right?
Trowa had heard about Dorothy Catalonia’s surprise visits. Apparently she swooped in, disturbed everything, and swooped out again. Wufei had sounded half in awe when he described how she’d turned up at Preventers’ headquarters and handed over a file detailing a major business scam that would have left thousands destitute while their savings were being used for weapons manufacture, told Une that she expected this to be handled, and left, and how Une had looked at everyone present and said in an iron voice that no-one else would ever get away with this and set about the operation. Duo kept telling how she’d turned up at the scrapyard and handed over a list of things she wanted that was so long it set Hilde drooling over how much they would make, and then panicking over how they were ever going to fill half of it. And Heero told, in a quietly puzzled tone, about how she would turn up and get into loud, nearly vicious arguments with Relena which would leave the Vice Foreign Minister grinning like a loon afterwards, and prone to tear her political opponents to shreds verbally the following week.
Trowa figured it was his turn to have his life shaken up when Dorothy walked straight into his trailer and announced: “We have to do something. He’s working himself to death.”
“Who is?” Trowa asked.
Dorothy gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Barton. Which workaholic ‘he’ do the two of us have in common?”
“Quatre?”
“Amazing, you’re not as dumb as you look.”
Trowa let that comment slide. He was, after all, in his work clothes. “I thought you’d be pleased he was working hard,” he said instead. “After all, you do have shares in his company.”
Dorothy snorted in a strangely aristocratic manner. “And what would happen to the stock if the CEO were to drop dead from ulcers before he turned twenty-five? Earlier, from the way he’s going at it. Now, I have spoken with Mr. Kurama*, and he says that while he won’t help us, he won’t stop us either, and neither will his band of merry men. So, shall we get to it?”
“Doing what?” Trowa had to ask.
Dorothy looked at him like he was simple. “Why, we shall kidnap him, of course.”
*****
Rashid looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I wanted to be left out of this a bit more thoroughly,” he muttered. “When I said we wouldn’t interfere, I didn’t mean ‘bring him to our base’.”
Still thinking like a military commander, Trowa thought, although ‘base’ did seem the right word for the place.
“Mister** Quatre was scowling at me,” Rashid continued.
Trowa had to let out a small smile. “Did he look frightening or a little adorable?” he asked.
Rashid mulled that over. “A little adorable,” he admitted.
“No need to worry then,” came Dorothy’s voice from behind them. She walked up to them, stretched and clapped both men on the shoulders. “All right then, gentlemen, I have done my part. I leave the coddling to you.”
“Are you deserting us?” Trowa asked without any accusation in his tone, merely calm bemusement.
Dorothy gave him a long look. “Not at all. My relationship with him is simply vastly different from yours. I knock people’s head together until their thoughts fall into a sensible order. I don’t soothe, and I’m not quietly supportive. That’s your job.”
She did have a point, Trowa allowed as Dorothy swept out. He wondered when they all became such open books to her. He supposed this was what Quatre had seen in her - a very peculiar type of kindness.
*****
Notes:
*Yes, Kurama is Rashid’s last name.
** Rashid’s using ‘Mister’, not ‘Master’ here. I reasoned that they used to call him ‘Master Quatre’ out of respect, not a master-servant relationship. In addition to that sort of use, according to the Collins Paperback English Dictionary, ‘Master’ is “a title of address for a boy who is not old enough to be called Mr.”
Author: ingvild
Characters: Dorothy, Trowa, Quatre, others
Rating/Word Count: G, 606 words
Notes: It’s still Wednesday somewhere, right?
Trowa had heard about Dorothy Catalonia’s surprise visits. Apparently she swooped in, disturbed everything, and swooped out again. Wufei had sounded half in awe when he described how she’d turned up at Preventers’ headquarters and handed over a file detailing a major business scam that would have left thousands destitute while their savings were being used for weapons manufacture, told Une that she expected this to be handled, and left, and how Une had looked at everyone present and said in an iron voice that no-one else would ever get away with this and set about the operation. Duo kept telling how she’d turned up at the scrapyard and handed over a list of things she wanted that was so long it set Hilde drooling over how much they would make, and then panicking over how they were ever going to fill half of it. And Heero told, in a quietly puzzled tone, about how she would turn up and get into loud, nearly vicious arguments with Relena which would leave the Vice Foreign Minister grinning like a loon afterwards, and prone to tear her political opponents to shreds verbally the following week.
Trowa figured it was his turn to have his life shaken up when Dorothy walked straight into his trailer and announced: “We have to do something. He’s working himself to death.”
“Who is?” Trowa asked.
Dorothy gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Barton. Which workaholic ‘he’ do the two of us have in common?”
“Quatre?”
“Amazing, you’re not as dumb as you look.”
Trowa let that comment slide. He was, after all, in his work clothes. “I thought you’d be pleased he was working hard,” he said instead. “After all, you do have shares in his company.”
Dorothy snorted in a strangely aristocratic manner. “And what would happen to the stock if the CEO were to drop dead from ulcers before he turned twenty-five? Earlier, from the way he’s going at it. Now, I have spoken with Mr. Kurama*, and he says that while he won’t help us, he won’t stop us either, and neither will his band of merry men. So, shall we get to it?”
“Doing what?” Trowa had to ask.
Dorothy looked at him like he was simple. “Why, we shall kidnap him, of course.”
*****
Rashid looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I wanted to be left out of this a bit more thoroughly,” he muttered. “When I said we wouldn’t interfere, I didn’t mean ‘bring him to our base’.”
Still thinking like a military commander, Trowa thought, although ‘base’ did seem the right word for the place.
“Mister** Quatre was scowling at me,” Rashid continued.
Trowa had to let out a small smile. “Did he look frightening or a little adorable?” he asked.
Rashid mulled that over. “A little adorable,” he admitted.
“No need to worry then,” came Dorothy’s voice from behind them. She walked up to them, stretched and clapped both men on the shoulders. “All right then, gentlemen, I have done my part. I leave the coddling to you.”
“Are you deserting us?” Trowa asked without any accusation in his tone, merely calm bemusement.
Dorothy gave him a long look. “Not at all. My relationship with him is simply vastly different from yours. I knock people’s head together until their thoughts fall into a sensible order. I don’t soothe, and I’m not quietly supportive. That’s your job.”
She did have a point, Trowa allowed as Dorothy swept out. He wondered when they all became such open books to her. He supposed this was what Quatre had seen in her - a very peculiar type of kindness.
*****
Notes:
*Yes, Kurama is Rashid’s last name.
** Rashid’s using ‘Mister’, not ‘Master’ here. I reasoned that they used to call him ‘Master Quatre’ out of respect, not a master-servant relationship. In addition to that sort of use, according to the Collins Paperback English Dictionary, ‘Master’ is “a title of address for a boy who is not old enough to be called Mr.”