Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine...don't rub it in!!

K, just wanna say thanx to Jason M. Lee fore telling me how to write "ojou-san"! Yay! I've learned a new word today, so I'm happy. About the last chapter, sorry for the major ranting spree, guys. I have a short temper, and even though I accept flames, I don't like 'em! J So...on with the show! (hey, that rhymes!)

Heero ran towards the shuttle, slowing down as he saw three figures standing before him, obviously waiting. Duo smirked, tossing away his soda can as he stood up. "What took you so long, He-man? We were about to leave without you." Hilde nodded to Heero as well and Trowa straightened from his slouch against the wall.

"Let's go." Trowa walked with catlike ease into the hatchway, settling into the pilot's seat with practiced ease as he started the engines.

Heero's eyes narrowed. Who's going to protect Releena?

Duo seemed to read his mind and glanced at Heero casually. "Worried about 'jousan? Don't. Fei and Sally called in the Calvary. The Peacecraft mansion is officially the Preventor's favorite hangout, as of..." Duo glanced at his watch, "five minutes ago." As if to underscore his words, a drove of black and brown clad men and women shot out of the bush, heading towards the mansion with remarkable alacrity.

One of them stopped in front of them gun upraised and eyes narrowed before he recognized the features of the pilots. He snapped a hasty salute before dodging back into the bushes, disappearing into the surrounding folliage. Duo grinned. "Hey...guess the Wu-man's finally found his calling in life. A teacher."

Wufei trained them? Then...Heero nodded brusquely before leaping into the shuttle's copilot seat, flipping on the Pathfinding system. He was immediately absorbed in the flickering lights and numbers that flashed from the screen, ignoring Duo's exclamation of annoyance. The faster he completed this mission, the faster he could return home. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

***

Dorothy looked at the sun's ray's the heat beating against her. Her normally pale face had become dark with tan, her hands, once lily-soft, had become hardened by calluses and scars. She smiled in slight relief as the claxon rang for midday, tossing the last rock into the cart with a clattering bang as she went to check on Quatre. He was getting better every day, lacerations sealing on themselves, his fever receding. Quatre's periods of pure lucidity were still rare, although he subconsciously fought his illness with the stubbornness of a Winner and a Gundam pilot.

"Hey Doll-child, five minutes! Dat's it!" Chris held up five fingers for emphasis and Dorothy nodded, a slightly mocking smile curving her lips.

"Understood, Chris. I'll be out in five minutes...after I've checked on Quatre, of course." He gave her an exasperated glare, but she merely cocked an eyebrow back, ducking into the housing quarters. She sat by the pilot, tucking the blankets closer around him. The lines around his face had relaxed somewhat as rest took away his exhaustion and delirium. The first few days had been the worst as Quatre had rambled almost nonstop about everything varying from his business endeavors to nerveless terror at the time he had been controlled by Zero, induced to wipe a whole colony from the map.

In those few days, Dorothy learned more of Quatre's past than she ever wished to, his pain, his fears...but there was one thing he never spoke about, even in his fever dreams. That meant that the subject was quite unimportant to him. Dorothy sighed quietly, even as she changed his cold compress.

After today, he might not even need it anymore...his fever is almost totally broken as it is.... Dorothy felt Quatre's forehead, reassured by the cool clammy feel of his skin, much better than the fever ridden flush that had been there before. She checked his other wounds quickly, and when she found them healing, she covered him back up, rocking back on her heels. She smiled, talking quietly to him, although she was quite sure he couldn't hear her as she retrieved some of the pain-relieving medication from the rickety table, deftly measuring a single teaspoon out

"Good morning, Mr. Winner. Or should I say good afternoon?" Eyes gleamed in sardonic amusement, even though they were fixed on the mixture of medicine before her, "Either way, of course. However, it would be quite beneficial if you would get up. Really, Quatre, if we both could survive those two wars, don't you think such an insignificant incident in our lives should cause your collapse?" She almost didn't hear the slight hacking in his breath or the shuffle of his sheets as she turned around.

He was sitting up, his eyes slightly unfocused and more than a little dazed as he stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, a shaky hand going to his forehead. "O-of course not...Miss Dorothy. R-really...w-we know each other...better than that...right?" Dorothy's mouth opened slightly as Quatre smiled weakly from his position on the bed, a quick flash of relief lighting her customarily cynical expression before the mask slipped over her features again.

The mockery was back full force, one gray eyebrow raised over an ice blue orb as she tossed back her grime-matted hair. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Winner. Had a nice trip?"

Quatre grimaced, trying to focus on Dorothy as she sat carefully next to his bed, medicine held in one hand. "Actually, Dorothy, I don't quite remember much of it." There was a flicker in Dorothy's hooded eyes even as she shrugged.

"I do suppose that is all to the best." Her mouth twisted, a shadow of icy anger settling about her features at the memory. "Suffice to say you would not have approved of my methods. Now open wide." She handed him the vial, watching with sharply narrowed eyes to make sure he swallowed the whole dosage before shoving him back into bed again. "Now, be a good little boy and rest while I take care of some business. You'll need your strength."

"Business?"

Dorothy smiled indifferently, but there was no mistaking the slight edge to her voice, "Those stones will not sort themselves out, Mr. Winner. I will be back in a few hours."

"Quatre." He interrupted, a genuine, albeit tired smile lighting his own blue eyes, "I thought we agreed that after four years of familiarity, we could at least be on a first name basis, Dorothy."

Dorothy forced a laugh. "Quatre. Of course. Now get some rest. I'll bring you up to date when I come back." Before he could ask any disturbing or potentially dangerous questions, Dorothy slid out of the chair, smiling cordially before walking quickly back outside. Once out of sight, Dorothy sighed, barely audible, as constant yells and the sound off hammer on rock masked all sounds. Well...her job was finished, she had paid back her debt and saved his life. That was all. Nothing else. Then why did she feel like breaking down to cry?

Face it Dorothy, now he's awake, he's fully able to take care of himself. He doesn't need you hanging on his arm like a mother hen anymore, so it's time to give him some space to breathe, understand? She understood of course, it was all too clear. She had, like an idiot, fallen in love with a God-be-damned wide-eyed pacifist that didn't know about her feelings and she swore firmly, never would. It was bad enough that she had felt even the slightest amount of affection to him before this, but this new situation was perfectly unbearable!

"So...how's 'e doin'?" A voice asked, and Dorothy looked up into the concerned face of Siara. "Din't get worse, did he?" Dorothy smiled back, her façade slipping a little to show a tinge of sadness amongst the relief in frozen eyes.

"No, Siara, I do believe he will be fine."

***

Quatre stared after her, watching Dorothy swing open the door and shut it firmly with a click, not even looking backwards to make sure her patient did as she told him to. He sighed, dropping back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. She acts as if I'm a responsibility that she doesn't need or doesn't want...Is that all she sees me as? One minute she acts relieved, then next she's back to her let's-be-friends mode. He shook his head and dropped back on the bed with a troubled sigh, blue eyes dark and unhappy. Sometimes Wufei was right: women were the strangest things to try to figure out.

***

Quatre hummed to himself, taking a taste of the concoction he had just made. Not bad...considering. He grimaced slightly at the memory of the almost inedible ingredients he had to work with. Luckily, with twenty-seven sisters to instruct him around the kitchen as well as forty Magunacs to feed, he had learned quickly how to make something out of virtually nothing. Of course, he always had his chef, but still...

"What exactly are you attempting to do, Quatre?" Quatre started in surprise, half-turning around. Dorothy was leaning against the door, saber, held casually in one hand as she watched with a raised brow at the bubbling pot on the hearthfire. The others in her work gang crowded at the door, surprised expressions written across their faces at the unusual sight and smell that was coming from inside their quarters.

"Um...Trying to make dinner?" Quatre scratched his hair, then smiled, eyes sparkling with delight as he took in the amazed looks he was getting. " It's something I always enjoyed."

"Doll-child...why cain't you cook like that?" A burly man grinned at Dorothy, who rewarded him with an annoyed glare as they filed into the room,

"Because, I don't cook. Quatre, let me introduce you to my acquaintances. This is Chris, Siara, Tor, and the silent one that acts like Yuy is Keele." Dorothy glanced at the man wickedly, "I take it back. Even Yuy talks more." Keele just shrugged. "And ladies...or rather, lady and gentlemen...this is Quatre Rebaba Winner."

"Pleased t'meetcha, Mr. Winner." Siara said cheerfully, straddling a chair. "'Specially if y'can cook like that. What's it, by the way?"

"It's some of the meat they sent cooked with some of the tricks that my sisters taught me." Quatre smiled, serving out the plates and slipping naturally back into his familiar role as a host. "And please, do call me Quatre." They ate dinner in a companionable, talking and complaining with good nature about the day's work. Dorothy smiled and talked more freely in this atmosphere, Quatre noted.

Her usual biting sarcasm was missing as she teased the others as unmercifully as they teased her, able to laugh as she had not done in court. The most anyone there could expect from her there was a cool smile, perhaps a few words in response. "No Chris, if you had not decided to let that load of rocks fall on the cart's wheel, I would have been able to fill it sooner. So therefore, it is your fault." Dorothy retorted. Her laughter sounded like bells, maybe a little rusty from disuse, but bells nonetheless. Her eyes had softened, and Quatre suddenly remembered how she had looked on Libra, so long ago.

Her vulnerability beneath the wall of strength had intrigued him; her ability to remain cold in the face of so much death while she cried inside. She had grown beautifully since then, maturing from a girl to a young woman who had seen life's pain and remained able to laugh, albeit cynically, through it all. Now, as he sat watching her, he could only marvel at the metamorphosis time had wrought on her. Open and happy in especially this atmosphere and situation.

"So what do you think, Quatre?"

Quatre blinked as five faced were turned towards him, eyes amused and expectant. "Oh, I'm sorry, I must have drifted off there. What was the question again?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Well, yer still sick, so we'll forgive y'just this once. Anyway, we were thinkin' bout takin' a walk fer a while. Meet up with t'other gangs. You wanna?"

"Uh...sure." Quatre smiled, gathering up the dirty dishes but Dorothy sighed in exasperation, grabbing them from his hands.

"We'll worry about the dishes after we return. A little good air will do you a world of wonders." The group walked outside, which was, for once, quiet with the silence that came with midnight. Dorothy smiled, breathing in deeply, then coughing as the wind blew some dust in her face. Quatre waited patiently behind as the other laughed and moved ahead, eager to socialize with the people around them.

"Are you all right, Dorothy?" He helped her back up from her semi-crouch and she glanced up.

"Hmmm *cough* fine. This place has so much dust that it is never wise to breathe in too deeply." Dorothy smiled at him, the usual acerbic edge missing from her eyes. "Nor do I believe you should try, Mr. Winner." She teased, "Lest you must lay abed for another month or more." Quatre laughed, unconsciously slipping his arm around her waist.

"I thought we had taken care of the naming problem, Miss Catalonia."

"Indeed, Quatre," Dorothy grinned back, tilting her head back to look at him in the eyes. " Just checking, of course." She turned to look at the heavens, sighing a little in satisfaction. "I never knew that space could be this beautiful...you can't see the stars on Earth. On Earth...there is too much strife. Every day, political battles, verbal skirmishes... one can never find peace there."

"So, you're tired of war, Dorothy?"

"No." Dorothy brought her gaze back to him, two points of light reflecting off her eyes, which seemed as black as the sky in the dark. "War is glorious...the battles, the honor... There is a dance to war, a siren's call if you will, that beckon soldiers to it. And I..." Dorothy laughed, hugging herself around her middle. "I, Quatre Rebaba Winner, am a child of that war."

"But, you and Miss Releena, you've been-"

"I told you once I owed Miss Releena everything. I do, and I always pay my debts, Quatre Winner. Her battle is to fight for peace at the negotiating tables, I am merely the soldier that follows her general." Dorothy's smile flashed, "Yet, perhaps this life suits me better."

"You want to stay here?" Quatre's voice cracked in incredulity, and Dorothy shook her head.

"How foolish, Quatre. I would never be content to remain anyone's slave after a life of freedom. No. When we escape, what will I do? Go back to being Miss Releena's right hand? She is my dearest friend, but such a life will always be a constriction to me. Perhaps it is my time to seek my own freedom...here? Somewhere out there?" Dorothy gestured towards the vastness of space, smiling back at the stars that danced for her. "The options are infinite."

She was leaving? That meant he would never see her again...or see her less. Was that what he wanted? Quatre remained motionless, but good breeding forced him to say, "I...I'm happy for you, Dorothy."

Dorothy threw him a questioning glance, turning in his arm to feel his forehead. "Are you getting another fever Quatre? Perhaps we should go inside..." She felt Quatre's arms tighten around her and belatedly realized what a compromising position they were in, a flush slowly climbing her cheeks.

He tilted her face back and planted a small kiss on her lips...before they both suddenly broke off, flustered.

"I...I...I'm quite sorry, Dorothy. I'm not quite sure what..."

"No...it's my fault, Quatre...I," Dorothy broke off, laughing a little ruefully. "We sound like teenagers caught necking, don't we, Quatre?"

Quatre smiled back helplessly, "Yes, we do. But-"

Dorothy suddenly turned serious, pulling back in almost alarm as she said, "It would never work. I'm not spending my life in the Sanq Kingdom. There are too many places to see, to many battles to be fought...I'm not needed there. But I am needed elsewhere."

Quatre sighed, but held out his hand anyway. "Then...just for now, let's pretend for a while, shall we?"

Dorothy stared at his hand before sliding her own into his grasp, smiling a trifle wickedly. "I hope you know this does not mean that I will go easy on you in any future duel, Quatre Rebaba Winner."

Quatre laughed back, relief making his eyes brighten with humor. "Nor would I expect you to, Dorothy. Nor would I expect you to."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A trifle longer than my other chapters, ne? So...whatcha think of it? I'll be posting more soon (I hope) so r&r for this!!