[Author's Note: The much-demanded sequel to 'Cerulean and Jade'! ^_^ I hope y'all got whatcha wanted! ^_^ I just might make this a trilogy, but the last part will come much later... | Hope everyone saw "Endless Waltz"! Sorry for Mariemeia's perkiness, I can't get that dub voice out of my head... And I know Dot and Treize were cousins, but I'm not sure what that makes Marie, so I'm referring to her as 'cousin' just to make things easy. |This story takes place nine years after 'Jade'. | Okay, for most of this fic you simply must listen to Mannheim Steamroller's Christmas albums, and for the part near the end (you'll know when you get to it) you specifically need "Mannheim Steamroller Christmas" on the track "Stille Nacht" ^_^ ]

A.C. 207
The trees were bare of leaves, the ground was hard, and the grass crackled underfoot. A few stray brown leaves danced across the worn paths of the Sank Kingdom Memorial Cemetery. Quatre Winner stood alone by the large, high, flat stone wall that held a seemingly endless list of deceased. He held a memorial wreath in one brown-gloved hand -- or rather, tightly gripped, his grasp increasing with grief as he continued to scan the names. An ornament on the wreath began to dig into his palm but he ignored it. The chilly morning wind tugged at the lapels of his tan coat, brown scarf, and his hair, also stinging his eyes. The tears that had been quietly forming there finally fell. He leaned to place the wreath at the base of the wall. Many such wreaths rested in other places along the monument.
Quatre brushed away the tears but his gaze continued to roam across the etched lettering. Some of them were there because of him. He didn't like to think about it. All it did was make him weep, and that would not change what had happened. At last he turned, shuffling past the wall to glance across the rolling hills dotted with tombstones, and then gazed past those to the dark and choppy sea that reflected the grey of the clouds overhead. His breath steamed out in front of him. For a long moment he merely drank in the crisp air, more used to the temperate climate of his colony. But this had been a necessary visit to the earth.
Finally he roused himself to move down the path through the cemetery, shaking his arms to get the chill out -- winter definitely was not for him. He hugged his coat closer around him, grateful again for the scarf Hilde had made for him -- at Duo's insistence that they should share Christmas with all their friends. Quatre smiled at the thought of the two. They had first been embarrassed when -- post gift-giving -- they realized he had little use for woolen scarves, but then he had mentioned that he would be making trips to earth during a cold season so it just might come in handy. Of course he hadn't had any gifts prepared for them; he gave them a generous donation for their favorite orphanage to make up for it.
That had been seven years ago. He made the donation every year, and the scarf was still useful, and the Winner household had gained a new addition, and he saw more of Hilde and Duo -- mostly because they loved taking care of children, and there were currently only two among the former gundam pilots. They probably dropped in on Wufei on occasion, too.
More content with his thoughts now, he slowed his pace, listening to the wind whisper through the last of the leaves. Normally one would think of a cemetery as a place of despair, specifically when the place commemorated the tragedy of war. Yet Quatre found peace here, almost as if the souls of the dead had forgiven him -- if just for this one day, the day some of them might have celebrated a season of joy and love. He shed one more tear at the thought.
Sudden instinct made him sense the presence of another living being. He glanced to his right where he knew a slightly separated memorial lay for two certain individuals. He saw the shadow of a figure standing before one of the markers. He hesitated a moment, then decided to see who it was; it could be Lady Une and Mariemeia, they were usually here every Christmas and he hadn't seen them since last year, anyway. He would like to know how the girl was doing -- with her eighteenth birthday having passed recently, he hoped she wouldn't get any ideas about trying to become a mobile suit pilot on her own. He chuckled at the thought, knowing the weapons-conscious Une would never allow such a thing.
As he approached, however, the shadow became clearly only one person wearing a black woolen shawl over a dark red-violet coat with a matching knitted hat covering only the top of hip-length blond hair. He paused; he hadn't seen this woman since the Hero's Memorial Dedication to the various gundam pilots -- also on the Sank grounds -- seven years ago.
"M-Ms. Catalonia. It's been awhile." He then coughed once to cover the stammer -- the cold was getting to him more than he had thought.
"Mr...Winner?!" It was a calm exclamation, for as she whirled she seemed startled by the presence of someone else yet she didn't want him to know he had snuck up on her. She fished out a smile. "It's a pleasure to see you again."
"The same." He shifted awkwardly. "I haven't seen you here before. Did you come here because it's..." He let the comment trail off.
"I'm usually here later in the evening. And, yes. I come every year to wish my cousin a Merry Christmas..." She glanced back somewhat sadly at the bouquet of roses she had placed on Treize's grave.
"I'm here every year, too, except mainly only for the anniversary of the war..." He looked at the ground with sudden interest, feeling oddly ashamed.
Yet Dorothy offered a soft smile. "Oh, that's right, you don't celebrate Christmas, do you?"
"No -- um, we did set up a small tree this year because a friend insisted I experience the joy of cleaning up pine needles after Stephen discovers that Christmas ornaments make neat toys." He chuckled, and partly at his embarrassment for babbling for lack of anything intelligent to say.
"Who?" Dorothy asked quizzically.
"Stephen, my -- Oh!" He looked mortified. "You didn't get the birth notice?? I thought I had one sent to everybody! I'm sorry." He fumbled through his pockets until he found a wallet, which revealed all photos and no money when he opened it. The first few were of his spouse, then a dozen or so of a sandy-haired boy who mostly resembled him. "You remember..."
"Yes, of course."
"And this is Stephen, our son. He turned six this year. He's very talented. Likes to build things, toys and useful gadgets. He isn't very big on music, but I'm very proud of him."
"How precocious," Dorothy commented. "And you have every reason to be proud. He does, after all, have Gundam pilot blood."
Quatre's face clouded momentarily yet he spoke only wistfully. "He's the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me." He then flipped to the back of the wallet to show several group photos of all the gundam pilots. "And the rest of the guys..." He glanced sideways at her. "I don't suppose Wufei bothered to contact you with the announcement of his son's birth? We didn't even hear until Sally herself called the day after she came home from the hospital!" He chuckled.
"No, I...um...only briefly met Ms. Po at the ceremony that year. And I guess that would be Mrs. Chang now." She managed a sheepish smile then looked away. "I'm...a bit out of the loop, it seems..." She had been rubbing her hands together against the cold a moment earlier and now was subconsciously wringing them. Quatre noticed the gesture and chided himself for being inconsiderate.
He cleared his throat, slipping the wallet back into its pocket. "Ms. Catalonia, would you happen to have any plans for lunch? If not, perhaps we could spend some time catching up."
She looked up, smiling brightly. "That would be wonder -- I mean, no, I haven't any plans. Thank you very much, Mr. Winner." She curtsied.
He couldn't hold back a grin. Dorothy turned one last time to gaze at Treize's grave and then Quatre put a companionable arm around her shoulder, leading her away from the now frozen roses.

Quatre avidly cupped his numbed hands around the mug of hot chocolate the waitress had deposited in front of him a moment earlier, grateful for the warmth. Dorothy tittered at his comical expression of bliss, then laughed outright when he pulled his hands away, shaking his scalded fingers. He smiled sheepishly then placed the offended hands around the ever-present glass of ice water to soothe the burn. He wondered why anyone would want ice water when it was so cold out, but since the water seemed to be a permanent feature of small diners everywhere he didn't bother to question the issue.
Dorothy, meanwhile, was casually doling out miniature marshmallows to both their mugs. He raised an eyebrow at the fluffy sugary substance that was beginning to melt all over his cup, but she had insisted he drink something other than tea, and apparently when one drank hot chocolate one was required to partake in the melting of helpless small marshmallows. He told her as much, and she actually laughed again. "So gundam pilots can have a sense of humor, too."
"I've had to grow one over the years, between child-rearing and managing a business at the same time. And with Duo visiting so often. Duo has always had a sense of humor." He took an experimental sip of hot chocolate, swallowing more marshmallow foam than chocolate. He made a face which she tittered at; she then passed a napkin to him so he could wipe the remaining marshmallow from his upper lip. "Well, that was undignified." He non-too-subtly pushed the mug away, glancing at it warily.
Dorothy had decided to drop her usual condescending air and let herself be amused by Quatre's antics -- she knew very well that he was trying to make her feel better. She wished he wouldn't. She liked him better as the somewhat nervous and mostly-serious businessman she had last spoken to. "You have...'loosened up' quite a bit since we last talked," she put in tentatively.
"Children will do that to you," he replied fondly. "An infant will steal your heart, and later you get used to sacrificing your dignity while chasing a streaking two year old around the house so you can wrestle him down and get his shorts on. It sort of reminds you of your own childhood...Um, not that I ever ran around -- um. Ahem," he amended, then hastily took a sip of hot chocolate to try to hide his blush.
Dorothy chuckled. "And I'm sure your son will appreciate that information getting out. I'll hold onto that in case I ever need to blackmail him." Something hardened in Quatre's eyes as he looked at her over the rim of the mug. A warning glare. Good. He's still as sharp as ever. She smiled to herself at the thought, satisfied that nothing could cause a gundam pilot to lose his edge, not even fatherhood. "I'm only joking," she assured after he put down the mug.
"I know." He fidgeted with the napkin for a moment. "I'm sorry though. I've gotten into the habit of always talking about my child...because it has been a rewarding experience." He smiled tenderly.
"I could imagine it being fun," Dorothy offered, but then looked down into the recesses of her mug. "Especially if one didn't really have much of a childhood..." She abruptly turned to look out the blue-tinted window. The sky was as cloudy as ever.
Quatre bit back his first response, which would have been to exclaim her name in concern. Instead he reached across the table and gently placed his hand over hers. "I'm sorry. I'm sure neither one of us had the most perfect of childhoods." She seemed about to round on him in anger, but he met her scowl with softly spoken words. "Growing up as a sole heir isn't as great as it sounds." She paused upon hearing his words then silently returned her gaze to her hot chocolate -- which was rather cold at that point. "Do you want to talk about it, or should I find something more cheerful to speak of?" He withdrew his hand only to fold his arms as he sat up more sternly.
"Don't you have to be going soon?" she asked quietly. "I mean, I assume you brought Stephen to see the earth but didn't want to expose him to a grim cemetery..." She stopped, not quite sure what she wanted to say.
"Actually, he's learning the ways of a traveling circus this week, that's why I took this time to come here." He chuckled. "Just as long as I don't find him sticking his head in a lion's mouth, I'm not going to worry." He became more solemn. "But if you want me to go...I'm sure you have a Christmas party to attend."
Dorothy thoughtfully sloshed the contents of her mug back and forth. "It's only one-thirty. The party isn't until nine," she replied automatically. "I -- I would like to talk more...But not here." She shot a glance at the increasingly crowded diner.

It was cold -- if not colder than the morning -- outside once they reached Dorothy's favored destination which was a small park about a block from the cemetery. Quatre would have preferred somewhere inside, definitely with a fireplace, but he didn't complain. He regretted losing contact with her over the years. There was something in her demeanor that had changed in that time. Even now he studied her face as they walked along a frozen path, trying to catch a glimmer of what it might be. However, she herself gave away nothing. There was a general sadness about her but he had noticed that almost immediately back at the cemetery.
He took a deep breath of chill air, deciding to disturb the wintry silence. "So did you really want to talk about anything, or do you just want to walk?"
"Walking is fine," she replied in a wispy tone. "If you don't mind me admitting, it's nice to have some company for a while..."
He turned a troubled look to her. "You...you don't have anyone..?"
"Oh, no, don't think that!" She glanced up at him, slightly alarmed that she had let something slip. "I see Miss Une and Mariemeia all the time. I count them both as family. It's just..." Her gaze fell to the ground.
"Just what?" he prompted.
"It's just..when you mentioned your son...I...never thought about any of us having children. Another generation to teach about war, and those would be ones following in the footsteps of the people who made the war.." She continued to avoid his eyes, looking straight ahead. "I just...never really thought about it. How could we teach them, if they knew how great a part their parents played in the shaping of the world?"
"I -- didn't think of that, either," he admitted, dumbfounded. "I've raised Stephen as a pacifist so far, but I'm sure he'll find out about mobile suits eventually. He -- he has no reason to use one, so he hopefully won't bother...with them..." Her point hit home just then. And she knew he had realized, for she finally looked at him again. "I see. I have inadvertently left a legacy."
"So we who have shaped the world still have things to learn," Dorothy added, once again looking down the path. "I haven't tried to settle down with a family because I'm not certain what my child would think if she learned about my role in things."
He stopped and asked softly, "Haven't you forgiven yourself yet?"
She whirled back to face him, the familiar attitude flaring in her eyes. "Quatre Raberba Winner, do you always remember every little annoying detail?"
"Only the important ones." He smiled and pointed toward her neck. Both of her hands immediately flew up, patting the silvery string that had freed itself from its hiding place under her shawl. A split-second scowl twitched onto her face then gave way to a defeated look.
"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. I don't know this time of year. As you said, it isn't something one can forget." She absently drew out the small pouch attached to the string. Her fingers closed around it in a well-versed clasp.
"Many things aren't easy to forget." He took something from his pocket and, as if by habit, rolled it between his thumb and fingers without even looking. Dorothy glanced over, not surprised to see a rich green stone. She gave a private smile which he did not see.
"Yet perhaps even the earth itself can forgive," she said poetically, quickly tucking the pouch away without even removing the piece of jade within. A gust of wind blew by a moment later. She clasped a hand over her hat before it might be snatched from her. "Or maybe it isn't," she joked, narrowing her eyes against the stinging cold.
Quatre chuckled once as he held his coat's lapels together, hunching his shoulders. Now the cold was really getting to him. Something wet touched his nose for the briefest of seconds. He looked up then around too see a scattering of large white specks drifting through the air. "S-snow..?" His face softened in wonderment. Something else he hadn't seen too often. A temperate colony was fine, but this was what he missed about earth. He put his hand out and caught a flake on the glove -- it melted immediately from the warmth. His visage formed a helpless expression.
Dorothy let mild delight show as the snowflakes became more frequent. "Well, at least there might be a white Christmas."
Quatre smiled up at the sky. "Now I do wish I had brought Stephen..."
"There you go again," she said amicably, shaking her head. He looked back at her, about to apologize but she waved it away. "Bring him next Christmas. I would like to meet him." She smiled warmly.
He grinned in relief. "I will then."
Suddenly the wind struck up, flinging snow in their faces with little consideration for their comfort. Dorothy held her shawl up over her nose, squinting. "I think it's time to get going!"
"I agree!" Quatre said through his scarf. They turned around to trace the path back to where he had parked his rented car. The snowfall increased as they walked along. Quatre seemed amused by it all while Dorothy merely hugged her arms around her beneath her shawl. They reached the car with a minimum amount of trouble although the snow threatened to become a mild blizzard in a few hours. "Where might you be going?" Quatre asked as he opened the passenger side door for her. "I don't want to trouble you, in case this storm gets worse and I wind up stranded."
"I don't think it will be that bad," she replied, then waited until he came around to the driver's side and got in. "Blizzards are rare in this area. But if you are worried, the closest place is by the other memorial--"
"I would prefer not to go there," he interrupted, leaning to fidget with the heater settings, hoping she wouldn't see his disturbed expression. He didn't need to see the monument to his heroism when he had just paid a visit to his victims. Why was it that twelve years didn't seem so long ago...
Dorothy folded her hands in her lap as she thought. "Well, there is a free guest room at my winter cottage, if you insist on being stranded somewhere." A smile crept onto her face. "I have a garden there as well. It will look more gorgeous than usual with the snow decorating the bare trees." Something else joined the smile, a guise he had learned to recognize years ago -- her usual predatory look. "And that reminds me, you still owe me a fencing match! Perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity..."
"Ah, on second thought, maybe I'll just drop you off and weather the storm long enough to get across the city to my hotel." He looked at her from the corner of his eye, smiling knowingly.
"That would be fine, too," she replied too quickly. He could tell she was disappointed about something, but whether it was the fencing match or the loss of his company, he wasn't certain.
Through the lazy storm they went as Dorothy gave him directions, no other idle chatter passing between them. Within ten minutes they pulled up in front of a small quaint-looking two story building with a brickwork face and hedges lining the front. Without waiting Dorothy opened the door for herself and stepped out. An apologetic expression came up on his face yet she only answered with a warm smile. "It was wonderful to see you again, Mr. Winner. I hope we can meet again sometime, with less than years in between." She made a quick curtsy then closed the door, flouncing down the walkway while his mouth still hung open, his intended farewell teetering on the edge of his tongue. Sorely confused, he tore his gaze from the dark-wooden door that closed behind her, snapping his jaw shut at the same time. He absently gripped the steering wheel as he gazed past the hood of the car.
At one time he had thought he'd had Dorothy Catalonia figured out. Without keeping track of her over the past few years, however, all of his perceptions had turned to naught.

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(c) 2000-2004 Autumn Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Character of Stephen is property of Autumn (aka Shiri) and may not be "borrowed" or mentioned in other works without notifying the author first. Characters of Quatre R. Winner, Dorothy Catalonia, Treize, Hilde, Duo, Wufei, Sally, Lady Une, and Mariemeia belong to the creators of the GundamWing series, Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, Bandai, and whoever else in Japan involved in this most cool anime.