Contemplation Indigo
By DRL
‘It was a dark and story night…’ Only joking! It is neither dark nor stormy and to be quite honest, considering
where I am at the moment, the dark I can cope with but the stormy I could
definitely do without.
I am on a yacht, Trowa’s yacht
actually. Well I guess it’s kind of
mine too, since we are married and, according to our vows, what is mine is his,
and vice versa. It was my present to
him for his 30th birthday a few months ago. Well it was kind of a joint present, since
it happened to have been our 10th wedding anniversary that month
too. Ten years! I can scarcely believe it… Anyway, back to the yacht.
She’s a beautiful yacht and Trowa is so
delighted with her that I have been patting myself on the back ever since for
having had such a wonderful idea. Just
to give you some local colour, here is a brief description. She is a 160ft motor yacht with four decks,
five staterooms in addition to our magnificent Master Suite, a large Main
Salon, three bars, once office, one fitness room and a media room (a sort of
movie theatre-cum-entertainment room).
She also boasts an interior elevator, which links the four decks (for
those, like myself, who are incapable of negotiating the lethally steep
stairways), a helicopter landing pad (complete with helicopter), a sundeck and
a swimming pool. The crew also have
their own separate living area, which is very comfortable (I was most insistent
upon this point).
Her exterior is quite traditional in
style for a new-build motor yacht, with a navy hull and white
superstructure. Her interior is pure
‘Art Deco’ and quite sumptuously luxurious.
Trowa and I were watching an old movie one night, which was set on ‘Earth
in the roaring 1920’s’ we were reliably informed. Throughout the film Trowa constantly admired the fixtures,
fittings and furnishings of the various hotels, houses, apartments and
restaurants within which the action of the movie took place. I pigeonholed this information, as I do with
everything my darling tells me about his likes and dislikes, and once I had had
the idea of having the yacht built for him, the style of the interior needed no
thought whatsoever. An afternoon’s
research at the library gave me all the information I needed. I gave the interior designer a simple brief
– ‘Art Deco’, 1920’s, unadulterated luxury.
That was it in a nutshell, and I have to say that he certainly came up
with the goods.
I still remember the look on my darling Trowa’s
face when he first laid eyes on her. I
had insisted on his being blindfolded as we were driven to the marina where she
was berthed. As I helped him from the
car he immediately said ‘We’re by the sea aren’t we?’ Ha, there’s no fooling my Trowa!
Well I was not about to have the surprise I had been cooking up for the
past three years foiled that easily, so neither confirming nor refuting his
suspicions, I turned him so that he was facing her aft end, and removed the
blindfold.
I could clearly read his emotions in the
expressive sweep of his elegant eyebrows.
At first they drew together in confusion as he took in the sight of the
sleek yacht bobbing gracefully at anchor, then as he read the name picked out in
flowing gold script on the gleaming navy lacquer of her transom, ‘Trowa Babe’,
his beautiful eyebrows rose to the level of his hairline, even as his eyes
assumed the size an shape of a couple of the saucers from my favourite Missen
tea service. He turned to me and I saw
the tears shining in my love’s eyes.
“A charter?” He asked falteringly,
although I was sure he knew that this was no charter. A chartered yacht could never be so personalised as to bear his
name. I shook my head and smiled up at
him.
“No my love, she’s all yours.”
The dam burst and the tears flowed from
emerald eyes that met mine with an expression of such pure devotion that I felt
sure my heart would burst. He enfolded
me in his strong arms and whispered in my ear,
“I love you, my God how I love you.”
It was a pricey present, even for me,
but I would willingly buy him ten more just to see that expression on my love’s
face again. To say that he was pleased
with his gift is a bit of an understatement.
I won’t go so far as to say that he loves that boat more than me, but
it’s a pretty close contest! No, I’m only kidding but as a gift, it was
definitely a winner (no pun intended).
Trowa has taken to yachting like a duck
to water, and in a few years I think that he might be ready for a sailing
yacht, you know, real hands-on sailing, with sails and ropes and
everything. I, on the other hand, have
unfortunately discovered that I have no sea legs whatsoever. In fact, I am writing this on the
sun-terrace of our Stateroom as I have taken to my bed with seasickness. I am usually only like this for the first
day, since Sally usually gives me a shot of something before we sail, which
usually kicks in after about a day; I’m
usually fine after that. I hate being
like this because my Trowa won’t enjoy himself if he knows that I’m not
comfortable. He was with me until a few
moments ago, but I sent him away – back to our guests.
We have our best friends staying with us as we spend a couple of weeks
cruising around the Caribbean islands.
At the moment we are at anchor about half a mile off the coast of Bridgeport, Barbados. I am looking out at the mainland coast as I
write, and I have to say that there are worse ways to spend an afternoon,
seasickness notwithstanding.
Our guests are two other couples, Heero & Duo Maxwell Yuy and Treize
and Wufei Kushrenada. We’ve all stayed
really close in the 15 years since the end of the war. We’ve kept up with the others, you know,
Zechs, Noin, Une, Sally, et al, but
the six of us are particularly close. I
need scarcely articulate why this should be – I think it’s fairly obvious.
Trowa and I got together immediately after the war. We both knew that we were in love with each
other way before then, but also we both knew better than to do anything about
it at that time. After all, we were
both soldiers – we could hardly go out on dates could we? The time was just not right while the war
was still raging. Either of us could
have gone at any time, and then what would the other have done? No, the time was not right.
After the war though, we took the first tentative steps towards a
relationship. It was of necessity a
somewhat sporadic relationship, since I had to take up my position as the head
of the Winner family and CEO of Winner Enterprises Inc. and Trowa had no option
but to return to the circus. We thought
that we were in love, but at 15 years old and with no previous experience on
which to draw, neither of us had any real idea of what that meant. We soon found out, however, since the
increasingly long periods of enforced separation almost killed us both. We finally reached a point where neither of
us could function without the other, so after about two years Trowa left the
circus and came to live at first near me, and then with me.
He was insistent that he did not want to be ‘kept’, so to give him
something constructive (not to mention gainful) to do I tried him in several
jobs within WEI. However, the cut and
thrust of the business world was just not for him. I had just started up a charitable organisation to raise and
administer funds for various charitable applications around Earth and the
Colonies and Trowa gravitated towards this, its more sedate pace and
disinterested aims being more suited to his calm, level personality. Within a few short years he had risen to
become the spokesperson and figurehead for what had become The Winner
Foundation and under his surprisingly expert guidance, it is now the largest
charitable organisation I the world with patrons from within the highest
echelons of society and work programs in all of the neediest areas of the Earth
Sphere and the Colonies.
After living together for three years my darling did me the honour of
accepting my proposal and ten years ago, on what was still the happiest day of
my life, he became my husband. As I
think back to our wedding day I unconsciously raise my left hand to my lips and
place a light yet fervent kiss upon the gold band around my third finger. Smiling to myself as I realise what I have
just done, I lower my hand and continue writing.
Heero & Duo’s relationship ended up pretty much the same way as
Trowa’s and mine, but it began quite differently. They did begin a
romantic relationship while the war was still in full swing. Now I use the term ‘romantic’ in its
broadest possible sense. From what I
could see back then, there was little or no romance in the ‘rutting’ that took
place between those two.
I believe that there was a
bond there, though I would hesitate to call it love. Much as he would like to have denied it, Heero did care for Duo,
albeit in a very domineering and possessive manner. Surprisingly though, Duo seemed to respond well to this, seemed
even to crave it. Trowa and I came to the
conclusion that this could possibly have been because to Duo this possessiveness
was at least evidence of the fact that someone cared about him enough to be
bothered about what he did or didn’t do.
During the war there was little tenderness in Heero’s attitude towards
Duo, at least not in front of the rest of us.
However, Duo assured me that he was quite different when they were
together in private.
Heero was never brutal or violent towards Duo; Never that. It’s just that he seemed indifferent to him
one minute, typing away on that laptop computer of his, then he would be barking
orders at him the next minute. Usually
these orders were ultimately to Duo’s benefit, such as ‘Duo, eat those
vegetables, you need the nutrients’, or ‘Duo, zip up that jacket before you go
out, you’ll catch your death otherwise.
You know how prone you are to colds.’
These orders were delivered with Heero’s own special blend of Drill
Sergeant and Schoolmarm. His manner
notwithstanding however, Heero took very good care of Duo, always looking out
for his welfare and taking care of him if he was injured on a mission. He was quite obsessive about it as I recall
and it was really quite sweet.
For his part, Duo was utterly besotted with Heero, and seemed totally
oblivious to the fact that Heero dominated him completely. As a soldier, Duo was second to none, and
was completely in charge of himself and his Gundam, but outside of that Heero
controlled him completely. As I said
though, Duo embraced this wholeheartedly, and Heero was never really mean to
him, only cold and indifferent sometimes.
At nigh however, they seemed to find some sort of happy medium because
they certainly seemed to make some sort of music together, whether it be
beautiful or otherwise.
After the war their relationship moved into a different gear as both
Heero & Duo came to terms with life in peacetime. They both foundered at first, as indeed did we all, but they
eventually found their feet and their respective callings. Heero gravitated towards computer technology
(surprise, surprise), and after designing a computer operating system that soon
swept the world and became every industries standard, he now owns and runs the
largest computer software company on Earth and the Colonies. Duo fell to expressing himself through art,
and has become a successful conceptual artist, specialising in large sculptural
installation compositions using materials found in nature and scrap items he
collects from dumps and scrap yards. He
also does some individual canvas work as a sideline, and has a large retrospective
on at the MOMA in New York at the moment (do go see it if you get a
chance). Considering his media his work
is surprisingly good and I have a small collection of his canvasses.
The two of them moved in together immediately after the war, and Heero’s
attitude towards Duo changed considerably.
He became less domineering and much warmer towards him, although he was
still a control freak. Funnily enough,
Duo also changed and he became much less receptive and tolerant of Heero’s
tendency to tell him what to do and how to do it, giving just as good as he
got. Well, as you can imagine this led
to a rather volatile relationship, with Heero telling Duo how things were going
to be and with Duo telling him in no uncertain terms just where to get off. Many was the time that Trowa and I would be knocked
awake in the small hours of the morning by either Heero or Duo (and on
occasions both) seeking refuge after having stormed out of their apartment in a
huff during a particularly heated
fight. They invariably made it up
though, and I’m sure the sounds of their ‘make-up’ lovemaking could be heard
halfway across the Galaxy!
They married the same year that Trowa and I did, and I find it ironic
that, although they fight like cat and dog, where Trowa and I never even
exchange a cross word, I would swear that they are as much in love with each
other as we are.
Now Wufei & Treize came as a big surprise to all of us. I had no idea that there was anything going
on between them, Treize being the enemy and all. However, by the time the whole thing came to light, this fact was
neither here nor there, since the war was over. The first thing any of us knew about their relationship was about
three and a half years after the war. Wufei
had disappeared immediately after the armistice was declared. Well he didn’t exactly disappear, since we
all knew where he was. He had gone to
China to the Shaolin Temple for a while to ‘get his shit together’ as Duo so
elegantly put it. We heard from him
periodically, but we never saw him.
Around three and a half years after the cessation of hostilities, the
four of us each received a communication from him asking us to make our way to
what turned out to be a large chateau in the Dordogne region of France on a
certain date. When we all arrived Wufei
was there, looking bright eyed and bushy tailed and acting quite the Lord of
the Manor. He ordered refreshments to
be brought and then calmly proceeded to inform us that he had first an apology
and then an announcement to make.
Firstly, he apologised that he had been less than honest with us over
the past few years. He had indeed gone
to the Shaolin Temple, but he had remained there only 18 months. He then announced that he had left the
temple voluntarily and promptly married his lover of the past two years. He then left the room and returned a moment
later, leading Treize fucking Kushrenada (excuse my French) by the hand.
Well to say that you could have knocked the four of us down with a
single feather is putting it somewhat mildly.
We had all done the sums and realised that Wufei had just confessed to
he and Treize’s having been lovers during the war, albeit for the final 6
months, while he was still our enemy.
There were no recriminations though, and amid many tears (from me, I
admit it), many hugs and much backslapping, we managed to convey our delight in
finally being reunited and our joy in Wufei’s having found happiness, even if
it was with Treize Kushrenada of all people.
We all well knew how desperately bleak and lonley those days during the
war could get and if Wufei had found comfort in the arms of the devil himself,
I think that each one of us would have patted him on the back and said ”Atta
boy!” We welcomed an apprehensive
Treize to our little group and we all spent a pleasant week getting
reacquainted and talking over old times.
Treize is a gentleman of leisure and does nothing in particular for a
living, having enough hereditary property, land and wealth to sustain both
himself and Wufei in aristocratic style for several lifetimes. Wufei himself, having no real need to earn a
living, occupies himself by undertaking independent studies into whatever
subject takes his fancy, then writing well-informed books on the subject. His books actually sell quite well,
considering that this is not his main objective in writing them.
So, this is what became of us all after the war. Fifteen years later we are all still the
best of friends. We haven’t changed
much over the years, but we have all changed some, in both appearance and
personality. This is only to be
expected however, since we are all between 29-30 years old now, and Treize is
almost 40.
I didn’t know Treize during the war, so I can’t vouch for his
personality back then. Now he is
distinctly aristocratic in his bearing, very sophisticated but also very polite
and considerate (not to mention a litte eccentric). He is devoted to Wufei and will stop at nothing to ensure his
comfort and happiness at all times. He
is constantly fussing over his ‘Dragon’, plumping his cushions for him when he
sits and drawing a rug over his knees when the temperature drops as the night
draws in. Being the spitfire that he
still is, Wufel feigns impatience with Treize’s solicitations, but those of us
who know him well can see the pride and love in his eyes as he regards his
aristocratic husband.
In appearance I think that Treize has changed the most. He was a full-grown man during the war, and
even then he had a large, firm build, which he still has. Beside him Wufei looks quite the waif. He stands just over 6ft tall, with an
upright, stately bearing. He does look
older though, a slight tightening of the skin around the jaws and the
appearance of fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiles.. His red hair, while still vibrant, is greying
slightly at the temples, although I think this gives him an air of
distinction. Wufei finds it
irresistibly sexy and Treize says that if this is the reaction he gets, he
can’t wait to go grey all over.
Wufei is still short (even shorter than me, and that is saying
something), around 5ft 7”, whippet trim and quite effete looking. He still looks darkly exotic, with those
smokey almond eyes, but he no longer wears his shoulder-length hair in that
tearjerkingly tight pony tail. It now
sweeps up and over the arch of his brow to cascade down the left side of his
face, swinging freely around his shoulders, although he tucks it neatly behind
his ears when he need it out of his way.
He has very lovely hair; I have often told him so. He wears spectacles most of the time now,
his eyesight, never 20:20 at the best of times, having gradually deteriorated
over the years. These make him look
even more the scholar though.
As I mentioned before, he is still a spitfire, with the shortest fuse
ever. He is extremely quick to anger,
but equally as quick to forgive.
Strangely enough, his fiery temper is usually directed at the two people
that he has the most affection for, namely Treize Kushrenada and Duo Maxwell
Yuy. Wufei has always had a soft spot
for Duo, even when we were kids, and I often wonder what might have been, but
for Heero.
Duo really hasn’t changed a bit personality-wise. He is still bright, bubbly and exuberant,
loud, vocal, sometimes profane but always utterly adorable. He still has that impossibly long, chestnut
coloured hair and still wears it in his trademark braid. His beautiful violet eyes still shine with
mirth, and he is always equally as ready with either a smart-ass wisecrack or a
kindly word, delivering whichever he deems necessary at any particular
moment. He and Heero do seem to fight
rather a lot, but it is never about anything really serious. My theory is that they do it either to keep
the rest of us entertained (which it invariably does) or to keep each other
from getting bored.
Heero and he are much of a height, around 5ft 10”. Duo ended up being the heaviest of all of
us, although he eats the most, so there is no surprise there. When I say heavy I don’t mean overweight, he
just has the broadest and heaviest build of all of us. Not quite as heavy as Treize, but heavy
nonetheless. He does a lot of manual
work while making his ‘Junk Models’ as I jokingly call them (Duo hates it when
I call them that), so his musculature is quite well defined and he has
absolutely nothing to be ashamed of when he removes his shirt.
Heero’s build is more akin to Wufei’s, although he is several inches
taller. He has loosened up considerably
over the years, but one still would not call him gregarious. He is nowhere near as taciturn as he used to
be, but he’s far from a chatterbox. One
thing you can be sure of though, when Heero gives you an opinion you can be
sure it is an honest one. He is not one
to spare feelings; a spade is a spade to our Heero. One thing that has changed is his hair. It is still dark brown, but it is no longer messy since he has
taken to wearing it in a close crop, the only length being at the crown. This crowning thatch is messy yes, but I
think that this is by design rather than by accident.
As for myself, well, what can I say?
I am not very tall, although I am taller than Wufei. I know, I already mentioned that, but allow
me to clutch at my straw. I am still
blond, although thanks to Nicky, an Image Consultant that I hired about 8 years
ago to groom Trowa and I to perfection for our very public lives, I have now
acquired what he calls ‘highlights’. So
I have now graduated from a ‘natural’ blond to an ‘enhanced’ blond. Nicky ensures that Trowa’s and my appearance
keeps up with current trends, but only so far as befits our age and status, so
that we appear appealing to our public.
I know what you are thinking, sounds like a load of old nonsense, but
they have done a lot of research into this and apparently it works. Politicians and the like thrive upon
it. It certainly does Trowa and I no
harm either, judging by our mutual success so far.
I take no prisoners in the boardroom and as a businessman I am
considered as hard as nails, but out of it I am as meek as a kitten and as mild
as a ham. I positively bawl my eyes out
at the merest hint of a wedding and even the cheesiest romantic movie has me
reaching for Kleenex. The bottom line
is that I am a complete sap, but hey, what the hell?
This brings me to my favourite subject – my Trowa. He is beautiful, wonderful, magnificent,
brilliant…can you see a pattern forming here?
But it’s all true though. I know
that my opinion may be considered biased, but my Trowa is perfect. He has the intelligence of a scholar, the
wisdom of a philosopher, the beauty of an angel, the grace and poise of a
dancer, the strength of a lion, the benevolence of a saint, oh I could go on
for ever. And I love him. I love him to absolute distraction. I have loved him from the first moment I
laid eyes on him and I will love him until the moment I draw my last
breath. He is my single raison d’ etre. My business, social status and personal
wealth be damned - I would give it all up in a heartbeat if it stood between me
and my Trowa. I almost did once, but
that is another story for another time.
The Steward has just brought me a pot of tea. He said that ‘Mr Barton’ asked him to bring it. My darling is so thoughtful. We allow the crew to call us Mr Barton and
Mr Winner to avoid the confusion of us both being referred to as Mr Barton
Winner. We adopt the same expedient at home wit the household staff and it
works quite well. To the rest of the
world we are Mr Quatre Barton Winner and Mr Trowa Barton Winner – we are most
insistent on this point. Anyway, I
digress…
My love and I live together in absolute conjugal bliss. We never argue, hell, we never even
disagree! Wufei says that he would have
thought it impossible had he not seen it for himself, and Duo says that it must
be boring for us (you see, my theory was right). I can vouch for the fact that neither of these statements is
true. It is perfectly possible and far
from boring. My angel and I are so
devoted to each other that we cannot bear to be apart. When our respective work schedules began to
take us away from home more and more, it soon became impossible. I couldn’t function without my angel at my
side, and he would constantly be worrying because he knew that I would be
fretting due to his absence (I told you I was a sap). Now our respective offices liaise with each other and arrange
things so that we are both in the same place at the same time. It works very well and now my darling and I
are seldom parted.
My Trowa has always been known for his grace and elegance, and both of
these traits have developed over the years to the point where simply watching
him make a cup of tea is like watching a finely choreographed ballet. His body is exquisitely honed and I swear, I
only need to catch a glimpse of his smooth, flat stomach when his t-shirt rides
up as he raises his arms to reach something down from a shelf, and I loose my
mind. It’s all I can do to stop myself
from throwing him to the floor and taking him there and then. I must confess to having given in to the
temptation on occasion too. I’d better
leave this line of thought, however.
Its ultimate conclusion is as obvious as it is inexorable, and I am
already beginning to feel a little warm.
Nicky has tweaked Trowa’s hair also, and it no longer covers one half of
his beautiful face. I have to admit that
this is an improvement (if indeed one can
improve on perfection), because now both of his emerald eyes are visible. Nicky got a little carried away a few years
back and tried to ‘tweeze’ (as he put it) my Trowa’s eyebrows. I solemnly vowed to break both of his arms
if he so much as showed a pair of tweezers to my angel. There wasn’t any trouble after that.
I miss my love already, and he only left the room an hour ago. I sent him back to our guests, promising
that I would come and join them all after I had rested for a few hours. This was a little subterfuge on my
part. I had no intention of resting; I
wanted to finish writing this. However,
I am anxious to be with him again. I
suppose I could ring for the Steward and ask him to send Trowa to me, but this
would leave our guests alone again (never let it be said that the Barton
Winners are poor hosts). I will just
have to steel my stomach and join them out on deck. I can’t see them from w here I am seated. This is our own private terrace, where we
cannot see or be seen by either the guests or crew. This opens up a plethora of amorous possibilities, let me tell
you. Whoa there Winner, that way lies
danger!
Well I have screwed up my courage and I am ready to join the others out
on the sundeck, so I’d better draw my little narrative to a close. I think that the shot that Sally gave me is
beginning to work because I don’t feel quite so bad anymore. Perhaps it was the tea?
Well, that’s all folks! This is me, my friends, my life and my
wonderful, wonderful, husband.