Title: The Beautiful Art of War Author: Mirakuru Romansu Keywords: Dorothy/Quatre Romance,Angst Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, but I did write the story. Notes: This is just a little fic in this big archive of Gundam Wing stories ... I'm working on the sequel to my other fic, "I'm Only Heero Yuy", but I really haven't had time to work on it properly with school and everything taking up my hours ... Okay, now this is a Dorothy/Quatre pairing story. If you hate Dorothy, Quatre, or the idea of the liking each other... Please find another story to read! ^.~ Thankies. [ Title: The Beautiful Art of War By: Mirakuru Romansu "I object!" Dorothy Catalonia blazed, rising from her honored seat at the Earth Council meeting. She pounded her fist on the polished tabletop. "The notion that peace can be achieved through complete and utter submission to pacifism is a childish notion! Lady," She nodded to Relena Peacecraft at the head of the table, "And gentlemen, I refuse to vote yeah to pacifism. Also, I respectfully decline to attend any further meetings until the council has come to its senses." "As you wish, Miss Catalonia." Relena nodded in return as Dorothy strode from the council hall. Outside the Peacecraft Mansion, Dorothy gracefully stepped into her gleaming candy-apple red sports car. "Damn pacifists...Weak fools." Muttering, she buckled her seatbelt. The tires bit into the loose gravel of the driveway as she pressed the gas pedal. Her well-manicured fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as she drove from the Peacecraft Mansion. Disillusioned fools, she shook her head in disgust. War was the ultimate competition of mortals which distinguished the weak from the strong. Peace meant strong people would be considered *equals* to weak people. "Never." Dorothy promised herself, unconsciously speeding faster down the winding road. In her angered daze, she almost didn't see the navy and silver BMW in time to avoid a collision. Heart pounding, Dorothy jerked the steering wheel sideways and smelled burnt rubber as her tires scorched skid marks on the stark gray pavement. The BMW shrieked to a halt while Dorothy's small sports car plunged into a roadside ditch speckled with buttercups. Unharmed, Dorothy slumped in her seat. She took several calming breaths, allowing the long curtain of her hair to cover her paled face. "Ms...Are you injured? Oh dear... Ms!?" Half dead with panic, Quatre tapped on the driver's side window. "Miss Dorothy?" Shock pinched his cheeks a brighter shade of distressed pink. Inside the car, Dorothy made an annoyed gurgling sound in the back of her throat. Quatre Raberba Winner was the 22 year old billionaire who owned virtually all of the L4 and L1 space colonies. The strikingly handsome young gentleman was a prime public supporter for peace and non-aggression amongst Earth and the Colonies. Off all people she could have wrecked into, fate chose the Winner wuss... Ignoring him, Dorothy snapped free from the seatbelt buckle and opened the door with a kick from a high-heeled, tawny sandal. "Miss Dorothy... Are you all right? I think you might be in shock." His voice was soothing like windchimes, but Dorothy wasn't in a mood for friendliness. She snatched her cellular phone from her shoulder bag and dialed her chauffer before turning to Quatre. "I'm sorry. Please allow me to drive you to the Peacecraft Mansion..." "I'm fine. If anyone is in shock, it should be you. I could have killed you, Ambassador Winner, and I apologize... My chauffer is coming in a few minutes. There is no need for you to drive me anywhere...However, it is considerate of you to ask." "Then please wait with me in my car. You should sit down, Miss Dorothy. I refuse to leave you alone on the side of the road." He urged with mannered aplomb. "Thank you." Dorothy found herself seated beside Quatre in the comfortable leather-interior of the BMW. Melodic chords of an upbeat violin concerto poured from the speakers, creating a relaxing shell of an atmosphere. Dorothy fought the urge to close her eyes and sleep. She was like a child who exhausted every spark of a raging temper tantrum. --- "Good morning, Miss Relena. Was the council meeting a success?" Quatre casually sipped honeyed milk tea from a pearl-colored china cup. "I apologize for my delay. There was a strike at one of the textile factories, and I had...car troubles." The meething was a disaster. Dorothy Catalonia and several other officials believe peace cannot be achieved through pacifism. Their arguements are shaking the trust in the Peacecraft name and the United Earth Alliance." Relena replied solemnly, resting her hands in her lap. "Miss Dorothy?" "Yes, she is a powerful woman. Since her father's death three years ago, she inhertied millions of dollars and took his place as Earth's Chief National Advisor... It's common knowledge... Quatre, it seems that we--barely adults ourselves--are responsible for the future of the world. We must find a peaceful soloution to our problems." She stated quietly. "How can I help? Help more, that is... What can *I* do?" carrying the world's woes in his sympathetic voice, Quatre edged forward in his chair. "Invite Dorothy to stay at the Winner Mansion on the L4 Colony. Show her how pacifism is helping mankind, not hurting it. Please, Quatre. I would see to the matter personally; however, the Alliance is accepting nominees for the election of a new District Chairperson and I must be present to oversee the ordeal..." She smiled apologetically, implying the formality of the event. "Yes, Miss Relena." Quatre nodded. "I'd be honored." "Thank you! The invitation will be sent by messenger tomorrow morning." Relena bid Quatre goodbye as she walked him from the personal sitting room to her office. "I hope Quatre can convince Dorothy to agree to pacifism, or at least to have her consider it." Relena took in an unsteady breath. "Isn't it kinda like sending a marshmallow to fight a fire? I don't think Kitty has a *clue* who and what he is dealing with here." Duo stretched his arms lazily over his head and yawned. "He'll get toasted for sure!" "Just like you to make food metaphors, Maxwell." Wufei remarked sarcastically. "Quatre won't fail, he doesn't know how." Heero replied bluntly. "Mission accepted..." --- Dorothy's penthouse apartment was a stress-free enviroment to concentrate and focus on the taxing amount of work which needed to be completed. No one would bother her. She owned the entire appartment building and was the only tenant. She kicked off her high-heeled burgundy sandals and hung her shoulder bag on the ivory coat rack. Dorothy grudginly accepted the fact that she would never be taller than her present 5 feet. She wore high-heeled shoes to make heself appear taller, but it was in vain. Ignorant people labeled Dorothy as "weak" because they judged her based on her slight stature and fragile appearance. In truth, Dorothy was a champion fencer, an accomplished horsewoman, a brilliant strategist, and a sharp businesswoman. Beneath her elfin beauty a darker, manipulative side was kept hidden from sight. She sat--legs crossed--on the sofa, sifting through a pile of memo notes and odd pieces of mail stacked on the livingroom coffee table. "What is this?" Opening the gold embossed envelope, Dorothy discovered it was an invitation. "A diplomatic visit to the famous Winner Mansion... On the L4 Colony... Heh, what luck." Dorothy picked up the phone and rang her secretary at the office. "Russo, accept the Winner invitation." "Be sure to bring a hat and suntan lotion, Miss Catalonia. The desert sun can be brutal." Russo, the faithful assistant warned. "I've been known to be harsh myself." Dorothy replied, dry humor in her voice. --- Carefully descending the slim staircase from the plane to the welcoming crowd of two people below, Dorothy held her wide-brimmed hat in place from the wind. "Madame Advisor, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, and and welcome you to the L4 Colony." A giant of a man firmly shook her hand. "I'm Rashid Kurama, leader of the Maganacs. Our duty is to protect the colony and the Winner family." The darkly bearded Rashid grinned warmly. "For the sake of our sanity and your comfort, the press has no knowledge of this visit, Miss Dorothy." Clad in a crisp black shirt, khaki pants, and Italian loafers, Quatre presented a boquet of dusk pink roses to Dorothy. She realized he stood about six feet tall. *The bigger they are, the harder they fall* she told herself. Dorothy couldn't suppress a bemused quirk of her lips which blossomed into a full smile. "They are lovely, Ambassador Winner." A sweet fragrance tickled her sense of smell as she held the beautiful boquet in her arms. "They are desert roses called Quatrine's Blush." Quatre explained dutifully when he and Dorothy were situated in the snow-colored Winner limosine. "Quatrine? Wasn't that your mother's name?" Dorothy blinked, removing her mask-like sunglasses. "Yes...My father named the roses after my mother. They are a sturdy little flower yet delicate. An interesting combination." He chuckled politely. "My kind of flower." Dorothy quipped lightly, absorbing the golden world outside the tinted windows. This was the little prince's home turf, here he was at his best. Against her secretary's suggestion, Dorothy came to the desert alone. No pompus parade of cabinet members, assistants, or staff followed her. She was fighting the enemy without her army, but she could handle the situation by herself. She expected Quatre to try to sway her vote toward pacifism...He *wasn't* going to succeed. The Winner Mansion was the type of homestead written romantically into fairy tales. The main building, made of glass-smooth marble, was surrounded bt an oasis of flower gardens, decorative fountains, and a luxuriosly large swimming pool. The arhitecture was a relfection of the castle-mansions found in Quatre's native country of Arabia. Dorothy accepted Quatre's hand as she stepped from the limo onto a walkway composed of indigo, violet, yellow, and coral ceramic tiles. "Welcome to my home." Quatre motioned with a sweep of his hand. Dorothy smiled mechanically. --- "Tea, Miss Dorothy?" Quatre offered, taking a silver teapot from the tray Abdul rolled into the cosy sunroom. "No thank you, coffee please." Dorothy replied, placing two scones on a small china plate as Quatre poured her a steaming cup of rich coffee. "Ambassador Winner... I'll get to the point. What do you have planned for this visit? What are your intentions?" She asked bluntly. "To take you on a tour of the colony this afternoon." Quatre replied mysertiously. --- A shy afternoon sun warmed the blindingly clear blue horizon. Dorothy breathed in a fresh lungful of clean air. She had changed clothes and was now attractively dressed in a jade cotton calf-length skirt with a slightly ruffled hem, a white sleeveless top, and beige high-heeled sandals. Her golden hair was gathered at the back of her neck in a simple ponytail. Quatre, walking behind her, commented on the scene infront of them. "Quadrant 2 was the hardest hit by a recent OZ attack... The colony refused to sign an alliance charter which would have given L4 immunity from further OZ attacks and bind us to OZ's iron-fisted command. I don't submit to bullying tactics." Quatre stated plainly. "Yes, dear cousin Treize isn't known for any type of approach other than extravagent. He also believes pacifism is a foolish notion. I guess the hunger foor power taints our veins." Dorothy replied, staring at the crumbled mass of stone and wood which once was a hospital. She pressed her hands against the rementants of a wall as if touching the force that caused the destruction. "Oh, the beautiful art of war, the beautifl art of war... Such a complex structure." She closed her eyes to savor the sensation. "War? Beautiful??? Men, women, and children DIED during that attack, Miss Dorothy!" Quatre's nostrils flared with barely composed anger and disbelief. "I can't comprehend what in the name of goodness is wonderful about humans killing each other over who claims the most land or who gets the most money." He scoffed, his heart felt the pain of every colonist and mecha pilot's death. "All games, Ambassador. To prove that you are better than your enemy. Some are satisfied to be the first chair violinist, while others have to lead the orchestra. " Dorothy hung her head in thought befrore meeting his eyes. "I was raised to be strong, to be a leader. Your value depends on how you face your demons--either locking horns or running away. If you fight and die you are stronger than someone who runs away and lives." "That's animalistic!" Quatre accused, blushing an outraged shade of pink. Dorothy leaned closer, blinking her cat-like sapphire eyes. She reached a hand and traced her fingers idly along the straight path of buttons on his shirt. "Beneath these designer clothes..." She emphasized, "Beneath your trained charm and gentlemanly manners... You are nothing but a primitive savage. Humans try to hide their animalistic tendancies, but they can't fight nature." She smiled smugly, amused by Quatre's sudden loss for words. She had her mouse by the tail. "The weak must be defended, not defeated. Humans may be glorified animals, but we have the capacity to reason. To feel emotions like love, kindness, compassion... You can only truly *live* if you open your heart to the world. All the power in the universe won't bring you love or make your life worth living." At his words, Dorothy paled. She was taken aback since he described her hidden pains. "Yes...All the power..." Dorothy replied, caught in a moment of weakness. "I apologize, Ambassador Winner, if my views offend you. My opinion of peace isn't as rosy as yours. Make no mistake, peace is the happily ever after ending we all are working for... However, as long as people such as Treize Kushranada are alive ther can be no peace. And there will always be some Treize Kushranada in the world." She shook her head. "So you have to fight to prove your worth and save yourself." Dorothy crossed her slim arms protectively. Quatre and Dorothy could only watch each other silently. "As I said before, Miss Dorothy. I don't submit to bullying tactics. If you could see the world through my eyes..." He gently touched her bare shoulder. "Then you could see how important pacifism is to the future, to the present ..." After the incident at the crumbled hospital, Dorothy remained quiet. She kept her fading temper burning at a low simmer. She did not speak until she and QUatre returned to the Winner Mansion as night began to fall on the colony. "Thank you for showing me the flip-side of conflict. I'll consider what you said." Dorothy said politely "Yes, Miss Dorothy. Good night." Quatre nodded tightly. He stalked off in direction of a rose garden, leaving Dorothy with a hollow sense of loss. --- 'This was the longest day of my life!" Dorothy laughed drily,brushing her freshly showered waist-length hair until it was tangle free. The cool, comfortable suite was exquisite. Obviously, Quatre wasn't stingy with his millions of dollars. Sand-colored carpethugged the floors, complimenting the sky blue wallpaper which decorated the walls. Priceless glassware and other ornaments were plaeced on the cherrywood beside table and dresser. The boquet of Quatrine's Blush roses rested in a tall crystal vase on the long mirrored vanity. Dorothy glanced at her relfection. Her eyes were hazy and her eyelids drooped sleepily. Yet she wasn't tired. Advesary plagued her for the last two years. It was difficult to break free into adulthood when chained to a world-renowned family name. Millions of dollars waited patiently in her savings account, inherited when her father's life was claimed by a fatal stroke. But what could she buy to fill painful grieving she carried in her heart? A pair of earrings couldn't replace the lack of love in her life, not matter how many karats the gold was. --- Quatre raked hand through his silky hair. Convincing Dorothy was proving to be as impossible as squeezing blood from stones. For every point he made, she made a counterpoint. He stalked the wide pebble path like a madman searching for his sanity. What could he do? He stopped to scan the heavens. A luminous silver moon and millions of twinkling stars dotted the rich ebony sky. It appeared real...Quatre shook his head in faint sorrow. But the moon, the stars...were artificial. Even the weather on the colonies was a man-made simulation. Quatre sometimes forgot since he found the desert night enchantingly beautiful. It was a beauty worth saving. Why didn't Dorothy understand? Quatre wanted to shout, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. --- Dorothy paced the length of her spacious bedroom and wrapped a long black silk robe over her matching silk pajama suit. Unease tugged at her throat, choking her. What was wrong? Dorothy blinked rapidly, unable to think clearly. The room suddenly felt like a prision. The only image her mind was the heartbroken face of Quatre Raberba Winner. He had looked at her with a mixture of pity, compassion, and saddness. She felt...guilty... for causing him pain by explaining the wonder of war. Since when did she care for the wimpy brat? Her heart pounded in her ears. "This is crazy... I must be tired, that's all. How can spending one day with the peaceful prince of the desert make me unsure of myself and my ideals of war?" She agonized, talking outloud to herself. "Oh damn it all." Cursindg under her breath, Dorothy prowled from the room. The nightime air was an alixir which healedd her frazzled nerves. Dorothy walked leisurely along the path, the smooth pebbles pressed ticklishly against the soft soles of fancy slippers. She firlmy decided to leave L4 in the morning. She...like Quatre. Staying longer would only break her heart and her well-constructed image of cool uncaring would shatter. "Miss Dorothy?" A quiet voice asked hesitantly. "Hello." Dorothy replied. Quatre stepped from the dark shadowns of the path moonlight did not touch. They watched each other silently until Dorothy abruptly turned her hea in the direction of a cluster of Quatrine's Blush roses. The blooms held a glowing aura in the moonlight. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I have to return to *my* world. I'm an intruder here." Dorothy whispered softly but finally. "No!" Quatre said. " I don't want you to leave...so soon. Please!" "Quatre, your job here is done. I'm beginning to think peace may be possible...through some pacifism, but not entire pacifism." "Peace..." Quatre said, grimacing in sour disgust. "How can you bring yourself to say that word? I'm a fool for even considering that pacifism is the answer. You've shown me what a fool I am." Anger pricked his words. It was an inner self-hate which plagued him. Dorothy was compelled to argue, to deny his statement. But why? He was a butterfly snared in a web of her making. She trapped him! Dorothy knew she could easily crush his now-fragile hope in pacifism...Yet her heart would break if she did. She loved him. *Traitor* she accused mentally "You're upset and acting irrarionally. I have that affect on people." small smile lifted her lips. Hesitantly Dorothy placedher hand lightly over Quatre's wrist. "We both fight our battles...Though in different ways. You aren't the type of person to be pro-war... And I'm not completely anti-war. We're too set in our own opinions to change." She stated braely, her hand shaking slightly, "But for you, I'm willing to try." Her head bowed in graceful defeat. "You win, Ambassador. Dorothy straightened her back and lifted her chin. "Goodnight--" She turned to walk away dramatically, but a wonderfully wamr hand caught her elbow. "Miss Dorothy, please call me Quatre." The angelic blonde young man grinned down at Dorothy. "Then goodnight, Quatre." He bent his head forward to kiss her, but Dorothy tilted her head back, keeping Quatre still. "Only if you call me Dorothy." She smiled, meeting his soft lips in a kiss as tender as the finest grains of desert sand. A bud of hope blossomed in her heart. Maybe Quatre wasn't such a wimp afterall ...