Hello readers, it has been a long time since I posted anything up on fanfiction and I apologize for the delay in finishing this fic. It may be bit longer before a new chapter shows up but I decided to actually work on editing the few chapters that were already posted while I ease myself back into this world. Thanks for your patience if you've actually been waiting for more. I'll do my best.

Masks
By: Starlight-x
Chapter 1

She wasn't supposed to be here. Hilde felt the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach grow just a little more. Memories pushed at her and she fought to brush them aside. She had an important reason for coming. I have to find him, no matter what. I know he's somewhere on the Lower side. Someone brushed against her and she reached down, snagging the child who had attempted to pick her pocket.

"Lemme go, stupid." Small fists flailed at her ineffectively.

Hilde released her grip. "Hey, kid, have you ever seen this guy before?"

"Yeah, I seen him." The little street rat leaned forward staring closely at the translucent image that issued from the projector Hilde held out towards him.

"You sure?" Hilde felt the first hints of hope as she put the projector back into her pocket.

"Course I'm sure."

"Can you show me where he is?"

"What's in it for me?"

"Ten."

"Ten?" The kid hesitated. "Not enough."

"How long will you be able to hold onto it?"

"Fine. Ten greens."

"I'm not stupid enough to carry that around here. You get metal."

The street rat pulled a face. "Metal then. Follow me."

"A picture is always worth a thousand words." Hilde slipped her hand into her pocket, feeling the hard edges of the projector that rested there. The street rat in front of her turned and motioned, impatience in every line of his grubby face.

"Hurry up lady."

"Sorry." Hilde gripped the projector hard for one moment and then let it go as she followed her guide through the back streets. Dirt covered everything, trash piled haphazardly at the ends of alleys. But what could you expect, this was where the Lowers lived after all. Hilde felt her nose wrinkle as a particularly ripe scent drifted past her nose. She couldn't stand the place. Never mind that she'd grown up here until she'd been lifted up to work for an Elite on the upper side of the city.

"Here lady." The street rat had stopped. "That guy hangs around here a lot."

"Thanks kid." Hilde dropped a couple coins in his outstretched hand which the small boy promptly secreted somewhere on his person.

"Ya might wanna be careful. He's been in a bad mood lately." With that parting comment the child raced off, disappearing around a distant corner.

Taking a deep breath Hilde began walking down the small alley. If she closed her eyes she could find herself back in those desperate years of growing up.

It happened too fast for her to avoid it. An arm wrapped around her neck exerting enough pressure to make her freeze. Hilde had to force herself to keep breathing.

Rough hands reaching for her…

Hilde's breathing quickened.

Whispers in her ear. "Here pretty thing. Shall we show you a good time?"

"You've been asking around about me. Why?"

The familiar voice broke the waking nightmare that had attempted to grab hold of her. Hilde sagged slightly and felt her captor shift slightly with her weight.

Duo.

"Answer me." Impatience laced his tone.

"I was looking for you."

There was a snort. "I figured that out by myself. Why were you looking for me?"

Hilde swallowed and tried again. "I'm not a threat, I promise."

There was another snort, this time right next to her ear, she could feel his breath as it ghosted against her neck. "Considering I have you pretty much at my mercy right now, no, you ain't a threat." He tightened his grip fractionally to prove his point.

"Ease up macho man." Hilde remained as passive as possible. "You don't have to be so dramatic."

"I'll ask you again, why were you looking for me? Who sent you?"

"Why do you think someone sent me? Maybe I'm looking for you because I fell in love with you."

"Highly unlikely." Duo shifted and Hilde could sense his impatience growing.

"What are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared. I just don't like people poking into my life." He paused and she nearly missed his next words. "Little as I remember it."

She sucked in a quick breath. If he asked once more she wouldn't be able to evade him again.

Duo pushed her suddenly and she stumbled a few steps before regaining her balance and turning around to look at him. His hair was pulled back into it's normal braid and he had several day's worth of stubble growing on his face. He frowned at her. Hilde fought back the urge to cry, blinking rapidly. "You really don't remember me do you?"

"I'm supposed to know you? You're a professional bloodhound if I ever saw one."

"Professional trackers are what they're normally called." Hilde took a deep breath. "And no, I'm not."

Duo snorted. "Right. Just go back and tell whoever sent you that that the next bloodhound he sets on my trail…." Duo ran his finger across his throat significantly.

Hilde managed a nod before she turned and walked away. She turned once and glanced back at him to see he still stood there, his expressive eyes watching her. The next time she looked back he was gone.

0000

The room was filled with laughter and music. The sparkling atmosphere only emphasized the facade that covered everything. Quatre held a long stemmed glass negligently in one hand while he smiled politely at what the woman next to him was saying. She gave an affected giggle and gripped his arm proprietorially, batting her eyelashes as she flirted.

"Can you believe how many people are here? These parties are always such a bore, but no one dares not to show up…"

Quatre tuned her out as he glanced around. The sea of people shifted as if moved by a capricious wind. Couples in one corner of the room pressed up against each other as they undulated in the newest popular dance to the accompanying music. Others clustered around tables where refreshments lay for their grazing pleasure. Gossip flew as freely as the alcoholic beverages the black-tied servers carried around on their silver trays.

"Can you believe what she's wearing? I know fashion dictates anything goes now, but there are some limits to what you should pair together…"

Quatre tuned back into to what his conversational partner was jabbering on about. He gently disentangled his arm from her grip. He had limits when it came to certain topics. "I beg your pardon, milady," he cut in smoothly. "But I see someone I really must talk to. It has been a pleasure." He lifted her hand to his lips and watched as she simpered at him. "I hope you don't mind my abandoning you."

"Oh, of course not." Her eyelashes were fluttering so fast it look like she had some sort of eye problem.

Quatre gave her another smile and then faded into the crowd, moving gradually towards one of the curtained alcoves that circled the room. He gave a sigh of relief as he reached the empty recess and sank down into one of the chairs conveniently placed there.

"You could always leave." The words whispered out of the shadows that filled the alcove, complements of the thick velvet of the partially closed curtain that draped the opening.

"No, forty-five more minutes." Quatre shook his head, taking a healthy swallow from his glass. He glanced at the deepest shadow. "You can go early Trowa, if this bothers you."

The silence that followed was broken by the smallest snort. Quatre took another drink. "Well, you didn't have to be so eloquent in your refusal."

"Idiot."

Quatre couldn't help the smile that pulled the corners of his mouth upwards. "Grumpy."

Another snort that was suddenly cut off as the curtain was pushed aside for a slender figure. "So this is where the elusive Mr. Winner chooses to hide." The voice was a silky purr. The curtain swayed back into place with a rustle, the shadows barely disturbed by the abrupt entrance.

"Ms. Catalonia." Quatre started to rise.

"Oh don't bother standing." She sank gracefully into the chair next to his. "Such a quaint old tradition."

"I am an eccentric after all." Quatre retreated back into his shadow.

"So people say, but most just like their gossip." Dorothy gave a little wiggle and shifted to get her skirt to fall just right. "Personally I think it would be fun to see if you truly are as eccentric as it appears or if it's all just a big pretense."

"Should I presume that because it's been a few weeks since you published your last exposé that you have now settled on me for your new target?"

"Please, do restrain your enthusiasm." The dry tone in which she replied provoked a laugh.

"I beg your pardon." Quatre regained his composure. "But you must admit Ms. Dorothy that your reputation proceeds you."

"Of course it does." There was self satisfaction in her response. A smile that was entirely predatory flashed across her face. "You see, I have a theory, perhaps it's entirely too simplistic or unbelievable but…" Her voice trailed off.

"Do go on." Quatre made himself comfortable, folding his hands, thoroughly relaxed.

"I think," Dorothy ran her forefinger around the rim of the glass Quatre had placed on the table between them. "I think Quatre Winner only happens to be the latest life in a long list of lives you've lived." She glanced up at him through her eyelashes.

"Reincarnation?" Quatre laughed. "Unfortunately I don't believe in that." He waved a hand dismissively.

"Hmmm." Dorothy rose and stretched lazily. "You're the first target I've ever warned, and that's only because I figured you'd find out eventually." She paused at the entrance to the alcove, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I never said anything about you having died in those previous lives of yours." With that parting comment she exited, hips swaying.

"I wonder if she knows how close she is to the truth."

"Hopefully she doesn't." Quatre balled his fist, resisting the urge to slam it onto the table. "Damn it."

"Want to leave?"

"Can't. If I leave now she'll know she got to me." Quatre sighed. "Sorry Trowa, I shouldn't snap at you."

"No problem."

"She's good at her job." Quatre gave another sigh and rose. "Just keep your ears open and an eye on her for now."

The shadows seemed to move for a moment and then the curtain shifted, swaying back into place an instant later.

Quatre stood still for a moment before reaching under the table. He felt around for a moment before he found what he was looking forward. He pulled out the tiny bug, glanced at it for moment fiddling with his other hand at the pin on the lapel of his jacket. He brought the bug close to his mouth and spoke softly. "Better luck next time Dorothy." Then he dropped the tiny listening device into the remaining liquid in his abandoned glass.

He reached up, adjusting the pin again and left the alcove.

0000

"Better luck next time Dorothy."

Quatre's voice suddenly booming out of the receiver hidden in her ear didn't surprised Dorothy. She managed to suppress a wince at the static that followed his statement. Oh well, maybe the bug was a tad obvious, but now he knew she was serious. She pulled the receiver out of her ear and tossed it away, not caring who saw her. In fact she enjoyed the wary glances people gave her and the way they avoided brushing up against her.

"Oh watch out, the shark's on the hunt."

"Shark?" Dorothy glanced down at the slinky black dress she wore that revealed more then it concealed and then over at the petite redhead next to her. "Cala dear, don't be absurd. I prefer to be compared to a panther. Dark, sleek, graceful and deadly." She gave her best feline smile.

"I suppose that does describe you better." Cala gave a tittering laugh and emptied her glass, setting it on the tray of a passing server and snagging a full one at the same time. "Dorothy Catalonia, panther. You in a nutshell."

"You and your antiquated phraseology." Dorothy shook her head and laughed. More heads turned to glance at her. "Everyone's so nervous tonight."

"You sound so satisfied darling." Cala linked her arm companionably through Dorothy's. "Of course people are nervous. After all, you just finished your last article several weeks ago. No one's going to calm down until they're sure you've settled on someone else to pursue."

"They think I'm looking for a story here?" Dorothy chuckled.

"As if you didn't know." Cala gave her light shove.

"Mm." Dorothy leaned closer to Cala's ear, lowering her voice. "Don't enlighten anyone, but I decided on my target weeks ago."

"Really? Care to share?" Cala tilted her head, green eyes inquisitive.

"Not here." Dorothy snagged her friend's glass and took a sip.

"Get your own." Cala grabbed her glass back. "Most people think you're here because of that scandal between that Lower and Lady Rilla."

Dorothy shook her head. "Cheap thrills. I leave stories like that to the tabloids. Now they're like sharks. Slightest hint of blood in the water and they come running." She shook her head again. "Where's the fun in that? I prefer a more interesting hunt." Glancing about the room she found a certain head of blonde hair and a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Cala followed her gaze and breathed in sharply. "Oh."

"Come on." Dorothy turned and began moving through the crowd, dragging Cala along.

"You can't be serious." Cala tugged on Dorothy's arm, trying to slow her down. "You've got to be joking."

"Joking?" Dorothy stopped abruptly and turned to stare at the shorter girl, one eyebrow raised. "You're obviously too drunk to think straight." She relieved Cala of her glass again and shoved it at a passing gentleman. "Here." She gave him a disarming smile.

"I'm not drunk." Cala protested. "I just can't believe you're serious."

"We're not discussing this here." Dorothy said firmly. "Come along."

Cala followed without further protest until they were both safely ensconced in Dorothy's car. Dorothy shifted it to automatic and leaned back in her seat.

"You are serious." Cala gave a sigh. "That man is not only one of the most mysterious figures among the Elites, but he has got to be the sexiest man alive. Quatre Winner, mmmm. Turns me on just thinking about him." Cala fanned her face with one hand.

"You're gushing." Dorothy said absently. She reached over and tugged one of Cala's curls.

"I know I'm out of my league, but a girl can dream can't she? And what dreams." Cala sighed.

"Been a while since you last got laid?"

"That obvious huh?"

Dorothy just gave a smile.

"So," Cala's voice turned coy. "Are you sure your interests are purely professional?"

"Maybe."

"How long has it been since you got laid?"

"That is none of your business."

"Aw, spoilsport." Cala stuck out her tongue.

"What is it with you and that outdated slang?" Dorothy shook her head. "Ah, city limits." She flicked the car off automatic and settled her hands firmly on the wheel.

"Are you sober?" Cala reached for her seat belt, pulling it across her lap and fastening it before continuing. "I don't understand your obsession with actually driving big cars. Let the automatic driver handle it."

"Not big cars, fast ones. Trust me darling, there's nothing like the rush of adrenaline you get going around a sharp curve. It's better then any drug."

"All I ask is that you get me home in one piece and that means still sane."

"Back to Quatre Winner," Dorothy continued, unperturbed. "I've been convinced for a while that he's been hiding something for a long time."

"Yeah, like a nice pair of abs." Cala shook her head red curls settling around her face. "Seriously I wanna know any juicy details you find. Maybe then I could blackmail him into dating me."

"Don't be ridiculous Cala. If I did that both you and I would be in trouble."

"When has that stopped you before?" Cala pointed out.

"Well, we'll see." Dorothy held up one finger. "I haven't even started writing yet though."

"Oh, come off it. If I know you, you've been collecting tidbits of information for ages."

"You know me too well. I just may have to consider having someone kill you."

"If you did who would keep you in fashion?"

"Very good point. After all I have to look good when I go out to parties. Where else will I satisfy my insatiable craving for fear, admiration and all those other emotions that are generated by my presence?"

"You're evil." Cala giggled.

"And you are a dear, sweet kitten without any claws." Dorothy returned mildly.

"That's why I'll leave the reporting to you and I'll just stick to managing my little boutique."

"That won't last long."

"I can always hope."

"Come on darling, with as talented as you are? Sooner or later someone is going to "discover" you and before you know it you'll be a fashion god."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I've always received complements whenever I've worn one of your creations."

"That's because they were busy kissing your ass and hoping it would keep them from becoming your next topic." Cala sighed, "My clothes are nothing special, compared to what the big name brands are selling."

"I thought I was supposed to be the pessimistic one."

"Not in regards to the possibility of me becoming more then I already am. In that you are an optimist extraordinaire while I remain mired in the bogs of reality." The car pulled to a halt in front of a small shop with several dressed mannequins in the window displays. "Thanks for the ride darling." Cala leaned over and air kissed Dorothy's cheek. "I'll see you later."

"Of course." Dorothy watched Cala head for the front door of her shop before driving away.