"Chattering Knives and Angel Eyes"

Demeter

For AncientLady who can't get enough of 4XC. And who supports Relena! *cheers loudly*

Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing are trademarks and property of Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and associated parties. All characters belong to them, and all stories, relationships, ideas are fiction, in no way related to the original storyline. The story, the relationships and original characters within the fic are copyright of the author Demeter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

There was something about her, you know. Something that made a tremor run through my very bones when I first saw her. Those flashing eyes and terrible anger struck something deep in me. Something that had never been hit before. Something that led to something that made me quite uncomfortable for a few hours.

I had been too distracted by both the war and Trowa to notice that my heart had been struck by the ever-mischievous being called Eros. And was I struck hard. After the war had ended, I couldn't think of anyone else.

Dorothy had noticed.

She was the first to take notice of everything to do with me. I love her for that. She's the only one besides Iria of all my sisters to take care of me that way. Don't be mistaken. She and I aren't that way. We cleared that a long time ago.

Back to the subject on hand.

Dorothy made me take a vacation to the L2 colony where the circus just happened to be performing. She made me go. She made me sit in the front. And somehow, she managed to wrangle out an agreement with Trowa so that I would be selected as the volunteer.

I guess there was a bit of revenge in those gestures of hers.

Catherine was as surprised as I was, but she took it all in stride. Putting me to the board, I have to admit, she seemed just a smidgen nervous. Which made me a teeny bit nervous too. After all, it isn't everyday that you have a couple dozen knives being thrown at you.

Since she was the one throwing it, I didn't mind of course. And Cathy calls me so innocent. I like kinky games too. I'm just a bit more restrained then some people; say Heero. I wouldn't dare say that to his face of course. I still want to live the rest of my life out without having to hide all the time.

Catherine was wearing the most provocative outfit I had ever seen on any person of the female species. There was wispy gauze tied around her face, revealing skin only when she twisted. Silk twined around her lithe body, like serpent searching for its prey. Like a lioness searching for her mate.

Allah, it aroused me like no other woman has... and as no other woman will.

My sweet, luscious, Catherine.

That was when I knew I had to have her as my wife. That I had to have her body and soul.

Or I would not live. Plain as that. I would not live at all.

And with that attempt in my mind, I started pursuing her single-mindedly. Flowers were delivered to her house every single morning, be it rain or shine. Gifts arrived every Saturday, either hand-picked by my own eyes, or selected from my computer. Not a single day went by without me completely and utterly obsessing over her. There was no end to my devotion I say.

Absolutely no end.

Her silky auburn hair brought images of her cradled in my arms, fresh-smelling from our love-making. Catherine would wrap her curls around my neck and purr into my ear, whispering endearments that would swell my heart with even more love. Until it would seem I would burst. Only to find her adding more.

There would be no brim to our sweetness.

And every week, she would gently, albeit firmly return the gifts.

Ah, the shattering of my dreams.

I entreated to her, wondering why in the world she would not care for me. Why she would not even consider me as a possible future husband, perhaps even a lover. But no, she would not think of me in any way but that as her little brother's friend.

Trowa, sometimes being your friend causes me a lot of troubles.

So I hunted her down again.

With a little of Duo's help, I managed to find out where she was performing next. Clearing my entire schedule, I went to find her.

And I did.

She was as beautiful as ever. Even more so now that she had matured. Her dazzling gray eyes still brought men by the tens of dozens purely to stare upon her beauty. When she waved at me from the front, I received more than one dirty look, which pleased me immensely.

Afterwards, Trowa ushered me into her private trailer, leaving us alone. Cathy turned to me and sat me down.

She asked me, "Why?"

And I pretended I did not understand.

"Quatre. Please."

I turned to her. "You know."

"No, I don't know."

"You know."

She paused. "Perhaps, conceivably, maybe, even possibly yes. But, please, tell me."

I looked into her eyes, those eyes that had captivated me so much. There was an uncertainty that lurked in the gray depths. Something that wanted me to take her in my arms and comfort her, tell her the truth that thrived in my heart. She deserved more than just words. But she wanted words, so I gave them to her.

"Catherine Bloom."

"Yes?"

I took her and set her on the edge of the bed, taking both her hands with mine. Rubbing her soft hands against my face, I whispered into her ear those words that she wanted to hear so dearly.

"I love you."

Catherine then punched me neatly and efficiently in the face.

I still have that slight mark on my face, believe it or not.

"You idiot! Why didn't you just tell me that instead of going through all those nasty gift-giving rituals?"

"Er..."

"I HATE diamonds!"

"But..."

"Therefore, Quatre sweetie, I love you, but no more gifts... alright?"

"Um..."

"Or at least, take me along to pick out the gift."

I gave a bark of laughter and swept her into my arms. The old days when she towered over me were over. I'm now taller, stronger, and therefore, as male pride-centered as it sounds, more competent to take care of my Cathy.

A kiss on the nose, a lick of the ear. Nothing is more sensual than the little touches that make women shiver in their shoes. It was no different with Cathy. But, she pushed me away.

"No, Quatre. Not until we actually marry."

"I know, Cathy."

"You do?"

"I do."

Then she launched herself at me and I was buried within a fountain of kisses, each more delectable than the last. I must admit, she's got something that no other woman has... or ever will.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I announced my engagement and impending marriage to one, Catherine Bloom.

Well, to say that it caused a scandal was an understatement.

Quatre Raberba Winner marry a commoner? The horror! The depravity! The absolute loss of honor! A couple of the daughters that I had rejected threatened to commit suicide. Others accused me of leading them on and then dumping them in order to marry a freak from the circus. Some declared that they would sue me for emotional distress.

Their father's weren't much better. More than one insinuated that if the marriage was to go through, then all connections between us would be broken. That might have been slightly hard on the company, but nothing that I couldn't fix.

But that worried Cathy for a little while, as I did not hide any of this from her.

She deserved to know.

And my silly Cathy said that perhaps she should not... I refused to let her finish that sentence. Didn't she see that to even form that sort of utterance was an arrow of death waiting to be shot at me?

I suppose not. But, my darling, sweet Cathy wouldn't know that I would give up even being a Winner if it meant I could be with her. But it was so much more fun surprising her with gifts that I couldn't get otherwise than as Quatre Raberba Winner.

Even if money is rather vile, it can do a lot in a world outside of our own.

Relena intervened at this point. SHE declared to the world in a national conference that anyone who purposely gave me a cold shoulder (stating it in that eloquent way of hers, of course) that they would find all ties between them and the Sank Kingdom cut off.

That quelled most of the threats.

Most.

The most powerful were the most opposed. And they had quite a bit of ammunition left. They spread rumors about my Cathy. Falsities that had me reeling in the anger that came with it. Declare MY sweetheart a whore? Call HER a bitch? Name HER a gold digger? Designate HER the enemy?

Oh, they deserved to be torn piece by piece.

Slowly.

I was more than ruthless with them. I had given them a chance.

I asked Dorothy to step in.

And she did. I don't know how many favors she called in, but I imagine quite a few. The tabloids and newspapers all but stopped printing articles related to Cathy. Even pressure from ones such as Lord Aryion of France resulted in nothing.

Cathy said she didn't feel comfortable accepting such a favor from Dorothy. I told her about Dorothy and Trowa. First her eyes widened. Then they blinked.

And she grinned. And she stopped asking. She knew. She understood.

She was my Cathy. Of course she would.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Quatre? What's wrong?"

I turn to my delicate wife and smile at her. The uproar still wasn't over. There were more than one reporter who wanted an interview with the pregnant wife of Winner, a person who was precious beyond compare. A heir meant the Winner line was secure, dispelling the hopes that Catherine was sterile.

Apparently, getting pregnant so quickly has others insinuating that the child wasn't mine.

Bastards. It's impossible.

I still wonder what might have happened if Relena, Lady Une, Milliardo and Dorothy had not threw their weight behind me. No one wanted the Preventers angry at them. And both the Peacecraft, Darlian, and Catalonia names were still well-respected and highly thought of.

Dorothy Catalonia.

Dorothy was once someone the papers had touted as the highest possible candidate for my wife. They didn't know that we were like brother and sister, nothing more. Dorothy appreciates and loves me for saving her from darkness, but she does not love 'love' me. She loves someone else. Someone who had once told her that it was sad that a woman could not cry.

I would say who it was, but that would be spoiling everything. Of course, everyone already knew, so it wouldn't be much of a spoiler... Trowa can be such an idiot at times.

"Quatre?" Catherine sounds concerned. Darling, sweet Cathy. Sweet Allah, I love her so much.

"Nothing's wrong, Cathy. I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Just about things."

"Anything particular?"

"You."

Catherine smiled and patted her stomach. My eyes went to the big bulge there and it stayed. There was still the marvel that I was going to be a father soon. There was something absolutely amazing in being a father of a child. Not any child. Our child. Cathy and my child. That made it doubly, triply special.

Ours.

There is something infinitely sweet about that single word. Ours. Well, ours and all the aunts and uncles the child would have. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hasty as to announce openings for Godmother and Godfather positions. Everyone was so tickled that I was the first among the group to have a kid that the offers poured in... along with the bribes.

I never knew that Relena owned so much gold. She offered all her mines, plus her tiara. She even offered her prize roses, which she KNEW would tempt me intensely. Roses were hard to find anywhere anymore. And Peacecraft Roses... Interesting.

Duo's offer was slightly less spectacular, but nonetheless, quite amazing. Somehow, I didn't want to ask, he managed to procure a picture of Heero grinning and laughing his ass off.

I was sorely tempted by that "gift", but I figured a baby with no dad when it was born wasn't very good to it's mental health.

"Quatre?"

"Yes?"

I turn to look at her when she doesn't answer. The pallor of her face has turned pale and she was clutching the seat.

"Cathy?"

"I think my water just broke."

I panicked. First, I stood there like an idiot, then I dashed around screaming for Rashid and the rest of the Magnuacs. They came rushing in and realizing the situation, bundled Cathy up and whisked her away into the specially prepared, "Baby-mobile".

I phoned every single person who's number had been automatically put in. There were several screens, allowing for cross-communication. When they heard, there was a mad collective scramble for the door, leaving many connections still on.

The raving started in a few minutes. Abdul scolded me as he forced me into a limousine and almost immediately, the motorcycles set upon us from the various paparazzi. Oh, I hate them more than ever. Can't they camp out on someone else's doorstep?

Cathy. Cathy. Cathy. Cathy. Cathy. Cathy.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!!!!!" I opened the window and chucked my shoe at one of the more.. er.. persistent of them.

I was going to get shit for that later...

~*~*~*~*~*~

I hurried in to the delivery room where Cathy was getting prepped. Her face was shiny with sweat, but she was smiling at me and beckoned me forward.

"Quatre. You excited?"

I held her hand to my face. Excited? I was more than excited. I was ecstatic. I was enthusiastic. I was happy.

I was fucking scared.

I had heard stories. Why do people think I brought Cathy back to earth to have the baby? Because I liked the atmosphere? Right. Uh huh.

My mother died because of the space births. I refused to let Cathy take that risk, no matter how much she wanted to. I wanted her safe. I wanted our baby safe. I wanted to be sure that all the precautions I could have taken were taken. I had arranged for the best midwives and for a special room where all the babies "relatives" could wait.

Ow. She squeezed my hand a tad too hard.

"Quatre. It hurts." The words were barely ground out.

What could I say? 'I'm sorry'? Allah preserve me. You don't learn this when you're growing up. Or in school... or in training to become a Gundam pilot. Hell, fighting mobile suits was easier than this.

"Jesus FUCKING HELL! Quatre! I'm going to kill you!" And she really did try... as much as the IV cords would let her. She punched and screamed and pulled (my hairs still intact, albeit slightly longer now), calling me every name in the book.

Including some that aren't mentionable in polite company. And that got the gang outside rolling on the floor with laughter.

It lasted too short.

It only took 23 hours, 17 minutes, 54 seconds for the babies head to pop out. If I didn't know that it hurt so much, I would have asked it to go on forever.

Oh, Cathy, the baby was so pure. He had my blue eyes, your red hair, Trowa's little bend. Oh, sweet Allah. He was perfect. More than perfect. He was my son. My son with you. My son with Catherine Bloom.

He was no less loved by all his "relatives".

"Quatre?" Cathy sounded tired, but she was happy. I knew it. We had shared our dreams, and we knew. A child, that would heal all the wounds that we had ever had. This son would be the band-aid of putrefied wounds.

That didn't sound all too right.

"Cathy?"

"He's so beautiful. You know?"

"I know."

"What are we to name him?" The rest of the group looked up from their cooing to stare at us.

The room exploded.

"Matthew!"

"Robert!"

"No! Solo!"

"I always though Shen was a nice name."

"Perhaps Tanis?"

"Perhaps Zechs?"

"Yeah right!"

"I was only offering."

"Peter!"

"Aidan."

"Heero?"

"No way! He'll turn into a psychopath... save me!"

"I volunteer Mona."

"Er…"

"Too bad Gene went out of style years ago."

"I still think Solo's good!"

"And have the kid turn into a brainless idiot? I don't think so!"

"QUIET!" Catherine yelled. She turned to me. "We're going to name him Seize"

Seize. Seize Larry Winner. The Larry after my father. Seize. That was a wonderful name.

"Sounds fine to me."

"Wonderful name!"

"Perfect."

"A masterpiece."

"Cool!"

"Awww!"

"Sweet!"

"…"

"Something a woman would think of."

"Something a woman WOULD think of."

I smiled at the chatter that continued and I laced my fingers with Cathy's. We were together. For the rest of our lives, with all our friends, and with Seize. And perhaps even more someday.

And I was happy.

I love you, Cathy.

~*~ FINIS ~*~

Notes:

1. Seize is sort of a twist on the spanish term for 7. Get it? *blank stares* Okay, never mind.

2. This was actually kind of fun to write! Quatre with Cathy is a couple I've seen but rarely write about, since Quatre and Trowa are so cemented together in my mind.