Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Author's Note: I've noticed through some Q/D fanfics and people's comments that they think if Quatre and Dorothy were to be, well, "intimate" Dorothy would be a dominatrix and she'd be torturing him, tying him to the bed and whatnot. Well, I happen to think that Quatre's got a bit more pride than that, and if not, then Rashid has to smack him across the face again! And if she would be a dominatrix, the she'd be a kind one, well, at least in my story! So for those of you who want to see Quatre tortured "kindly" this fic is for you!
Dorothy was slaving over the oven making a dinner for Quatre. "He'll be here in five minutes!" she muttered as she put a platter of turkey in the middle of the table, between her and Quatre's plate. Then she put a dish of cranberry sauce, red wine (I don't know, is it red wine with poultry or is it white?), mash potatoes and gravy and salad and bread. She put some red candles on the table and then she heard the doorbell ring.
"He's here!" she cried, wiping her hands on her apron, "I'll be right there!" She took her apron off and stuck it in the pantry. She went to the door then paused before opening. "Oh, that won't do!" she said to her reflection. She swallowed and brushed a few loose hairs from her face and shook her head confidently. Part of her hair was pulled back with a barrette and she wore a blue silky shirt and a black dress.
She opened the door to see Quatre smiling innocently, holding a bouquet of roses. "Welcome! Come on in!"
"Hello there," he said. He wore a white suit and sharp looking sunglasses.. (Have you seen the picture of him where he's in front of a brick wall with the other's? That's the suit he's wearing, except he's wearing a white tie.) He handed the roses and she held the door for him as she stepped inside.
"Oh, these are so beautiful, thank you Quatre!" she took the roses into the kitchen to put them in the water.
"Just a little something for you," he said as he lifted his sunglasses on top of his head. "What smells so good?"
"Dinner," she chuckled. "All ready for you!" She went to her side of the table and Quatre helped sit her.
They started serving themselves and Quatre stood up and pressed his tie into his chest (guys always do that when they pour stuff or take the check or something!) and he poured the wine into both glasses. "I say we should have a toast," he told her.
"Great idea," she smiled, "what should we drink to?"
He smiled back, "peace, love and life."
"And us…" she added.
Quatre blushed, "yes, us…" then they clicked their glasses together and sipped their wine.
They were eating while having small talk, the usual "so what's new, how you doing, I saw so and so at the store the other day," when Dorothy smiled at Quatre while bringing her wineglass to her lips and asked, "could you hand me the salt, please?"
"Of course," he said and right when he turned his head, Dorothy splashed her drink on the front of her dress.
"Oh, damn!" she swore.
"What's wrong?" he turned his head back to her.
"My favorite shirt," she fumed.
"Club soda should get that out," he suggested.
"No, that's okay, I'll just change." She stood up. "I'm finished anyway."
"I'll do the dishes for you," he said, standing up and taking her plate.
"You don't have to," she said.
"Yeah, but I want to!" he stuck his sunglasses in his front pocket and took the dishes to the sink.
"I'll be right back." She said, scampering off to her room. She closed the door behind her and giggled, "he'll never suspect!" and she went to her closet and took out a black and red leather outfit. "I've always wanted to wear this!"
Quatre quickly and efficiently washed the plates and put the leftovers back in the refrigerator. He left the wine bottle and glasses out incase she wanted to sit and talk. He put them on the coffee table and he took his glass as he was looking at the paintings on the walls. How long does it take to change a shirt? He thought, looking at his watch, it's been five minutes!
"Oh, Quatre," Dorothy said seductively, walking out of her room. She wore a red tight leather suit, that had no sleeves or pants but red gloves and boots. AS she turned, it flashed either black or red. She had a whip and a collar attached to a chain. She leaned against the door frame and waved the collar on the leash. "D'ya miss me?"
Quatre turned around in mid-drink. He sputtered and dropped his glass, "Oh my god…" then noticed he poured red wine all over nice white carpet, "Oh my gosh! I'm, I'm sorry!" He grabbed a towel and started to rub the stain out.
"Don't worry about that, Quatre. I had a feeling something like that would happen."
"I think it'll come out," he said, still rubbing.
"Quatre, stand up please." She said. He didn't pay any mind and then she raised her voice and cracked her whip on the ground, "Quatre, stand up!"
Quatre dropped the towel and stood up, his eyes wide as kiwis.
"Thank you. Come closer please."
Quatre couldn't move.
She cracked her whip again, "Now!"
He began inching closer, then stopped. She had to crack her whip every four inches.
"A little," crack closer," crack, "that's it, a little more." Crack. Crack. Crack.
He stood a foot in front of her, "Dorothy, what are you doing? What about the dessert?"
"Silly, I am the dessert!" he put the collar around his neck, "ruff!" she growled gutturally.
"Is this really necessary?" he asked, running the his hand over the collar.
"I want to make sure you don't run away from me again, Quatre," she mumbled. "You left me there on Libra, all alone. That wasn't very nice." She tugged on the leash.
"Sorry, I wanted to stay, really, I did," he choked out. "But, I-agh!"
She tugged on the leash again and pulled him into the bedroom.
"Can I take this off now?" he asked, "it's choking me."
"You want it off, Quatre?" she asked sweetly. "My handsome Arabian Knight." She puckered her lips as she said it.
Her puckered lips curled to a sneer, "well, too bad!" she tugged on the leash again and cracked her whip. "If you be good, I'll give you a treat!"
"Okay, what do I have to do?"
She walked forward and grabbed his tie, loosening it. "What do you think?"
"Don't worry, pumpkin', I won't hurt you…much!" she winked and tugged on his tie to loosen it more.
She's crazy,Quatre thought nervously, why doesn't she just ask if I wanted to make love tonight? I would have picked up some condoms on the way here!
"You're tense, how about a massage?" she pulled him to the bed and sat him down.
She took off his tie and ripped his shirt open, three button's popped off.
Quatre gasped, "my suit!"
"I wouldn't worry about it, hun." She put her hands on his chest and slid them to his shoulders as she pulled off his jacket and shirt.
"Careful with my glasses," he warned. "they were a hundred dollars!"
"Oh, of course, I can't let anything happen to your sunglasses." She tossed it to the dresser, "you look so sexy with them on…"
At least she doesn't have a fencing coil on her,Quatre thought.
Dorothy poured massaging oil all over Quatre's slender, masculine chest and his tight stomach. There were four small growing abdominal muscles. Impressed, she grinned looked up at him. "Have you been working out?" she put her face close to his.
"If I said I was, would you leave me alone?" he asked.
She pulled her head back and her grin disappeared. "Don't talk back to be, Quatre." She said straightforwardly.
"Sorry….yes, I've been working out…"
"I don't like it when people talk back to me. It hurts my feelings. It's not a kind thing to do." She tugged on the leash again.
"No, I didn't think you would…I'm sorry Dorothy." Man, what did she put in the supper? He asked himself.
She continued to massage his body. "Could you loosen up, please? Don't' you want me?"
"Sure I do…"
"Then act like you mean it!" she tugged on the leash and cracked the whip. "Come on, Quatre, I know there's a wild side to you somewhere! Where's the tiger, in you? My hand's getting tired from cracking this damn whip and tugging this leash!" Tug. Crack. Tug. Crack. "Be a man! C'mon! Let the tiger out of the cage! Growl for me!"
"Grr.." he said pathetically.
"Oh…that won't do…You will give me all you got, because for now on, you're mine!"
Quatre took a breath, his eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. "GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!"
"That's much better!" she giggled.
"The tiger's set loose, baby!!" Quatre barked. Did I just call her baby? He grinned at his remark. I did, didn't I?
"Oooooh," she cooed, fired up, "oh, Quatre, you're full of surprises."
"I don't think I need this anymore," he said, bringing his hand to the collar.
"OH, no you don't…go ahead!"
He ripped it off his neck and circled his neck around. He raised his eyebrow at her, winked and grinned. He stood up and grabbed her and took the whip away. He threw it on the ground, "you don't need that either."
"I don't?" she asked.
"Not unless you want the tiger tamed…" he picked her up and threw her on the bed.
"Oh, no, let the tiger roam free," she chuckled, sitting up as Quatre crawled up to her.
Quatre started growling sexily. Dorothy couldn't believe this was the same kind pilot she met in the Sank Kingdom, the same one who she dueled with on Libra, the one she fell in love with.
"Oh, Quatre, you little rascal you…."
Quatre sighed as he lowered himself to her, "shush, now…or I'll get the whip…" he raised an eyebrow and then kissed her lips to silence her.
Dorothy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Their hearts were pounding and their hands explored each other. Quatre took total advantage of the moment. They turned around on the bed, laughing and kissing each other. They made love playfully. The only noises made where gasps of air and laughter. Next time, Dorothy may not need the whip or the dog chain. She'll just need Quatre, a room and dessert.
The End. So, whatdya think? Better than having poor Quatre whipped half to death, huh? And trust me, that blond Arabian knight does have a wild side somewhere! Was this better than "Until it sleeps?" Please email me or review!