DISCLAIMER: I do not own GW, and I am using these characters without permission for no profit, for that is the definition of Fanfiction. Comments appreciated.

"Are you ready, Quatre?"

I nodded, sliding open the door joining our apartment. "Yes sir."

Instructor H looked back at me, straightening his own waistcoat and tie. "Very good. If you’ll allow me . . ."

I stood patiently as he adjusted my own tie. If there was one thing I’d learned about my benefactor, it was that he was punctilious on detail. It was just one of his oddities, and, really, dressing neatly and in the best of clothes was not too high a price to pay for the sponsorship of my studies and a generous board and allowance.

"You do me a great honour by attending this dinner," H said solemnly, his finely oiled moustache quivering.

I shrugged. "It’s the least I can do. After all, you have helped me in so many ways, been a mentor to me since my father’s death—"

"Such a tragedy," H murmured, motioning me to accompany me through the door. "But we won’t think of that tonight. Now, you must meet my colleagues and learn the reason you have been brought here."

I followed him. "There is a reason to this invitation?"

"Oh yes," H said. "You are aware of my reputation as a lover of beauty?"

I nodded; it was one of the reasons he had been friends with my father. They had been fellow art collectors, H often visiting us while in search of some marble treasure or other.

"So are my colleagues. In fact, if you’ll accuse the gauche pun, collecting beauty is something of an art to us. An art which we take very seriously. Look at this."

He drew a box from his waistcoat and passed it to me.

The box, like everything H owned, was elegant styled. I slid it open to reveal one of the most beautiful objets d'art I have ever seen in my life--a rose, intricately crafted from silver and rubies.

"Exquisite, is it not? Yet tonight it is our wager."

"Wager?" I asked, reluctantly handing the box and its treasure back to H. "Surely you don’t mean you’re giving this up?"

"My colleagues and I have a custom. We issue a challenge—to collect the most beautiful treasure of a certain kind, putting up an item of our private collections as wager. A year later we meet, the one judged to have found the fairest item takes all."

"I see." I was intrigued. The acquaintances H had told me of were among the world’s richest men, all leading art collectors. To witness a gathering of this sort—I felt strangely honoured.

"I need hardly warn you that my colleagues are inclined to be a trifle . . . odd in their habits, but be assured they are harmless. Excepting of course J and O but they’ll leave you alone," H said as we neared the salon. From the sounds within, people had already arrived. "Don’t be shy."

After an admonition like that I couldn’t help but be. I followed H in to the room.

Although I was expecting my mentor’s colleagues to be different, I didn’t expect this—I politely schooled my face into an expression of greeting, hiding my surprise.

Two men stood in conversation at the other end of the dining room. One, the tallest man I had ever seen, his body well muscled, almost too muscled in my opinion, H introduced as 'O'. The other man, with a silver grey beard, was 'J'. It took all my politeness not to stare at these two men. O’s face was marked by almost unrelenting harshness, while J--J appeared to have glasses of some type actually embedded into his face.

H nodded to him, before greeting the other. "O," he said, bowing slightly. "It is good to see you again."

"As it is to see you," O returned. "This year seems to have treated you kindly." He smirked, casting a look at H’s rather portly figure, a distinct contrast with his own.

"And who is your guest?" J inquired.

At H’s motion I stepped forward. "Quatre Raberba Winner, at your service sir."

"Well," J raised an eyebrow. "He certainly looks the part."

"I’ll admit that high society fared better than I thought it would."

I’ll admit, their words confused me. "Excuse me, sir?"

H placed a hand on my shoulder. "You’re impressed then?"

"Impressed, yes," O said, again with his cruel smile. "Worried, no." He looked to a corner of the room. "Wufei, will you join us?"

"Come where H can see you, Heero," J ordered.

There was a moment of silence then a youth my own age stepped out of the shadows beside O. I had to catch my breath. He was one of the most striking people I’d seen—well shaped face, high cheekbones, dark, intelligent eyes contrasting against warm toned skin, and a noble air. Then J’s companion stood and I was likewise startled. Heero had arresting blue eyes, a shade I’d be hard pressed to define, and his body was perfectly formed—the garments he wore left no doubt of that. Two better specimens of youth at their finest you’d be hard pressed to find anywhere . . .

I caught myself, and politely smiled to each of them. "Quatre Winner. Pleased to meet you."

Wufei nodded in acknowledgement, Heero just stared as if he wasn’t sure what to make of the greeting. Already feeling uneasy in this strange setting I looked to H.

"Have a seat, Quatre. We’re waiting for S and G—has S arrived?"

J answered in the affirmative. "He’ll be down in a moment with his protégé. He’s taken a boy from a circus of all things—"

"Utter nonsense," O said. "Beauty resides in nobility—of birth and action." His hands rested on Wufei’s shoulders. The youth ignored him.

"I think you’ll find only control can produce true beauty," J said, smugly watching Heero.

His eyes fell on H and he sneered. "I suppose you’ll say that beauty is the result of soft living—"

"Not soft living," My mentor corrected mildly but firmly, "But appreciation of the finer things in life." He held out the bottle he’d selected from the sideboard to me for my approval. I raised an eyebrow at the expensive vintage. Whoever G was, he didn’t stint on his guests.

"But then, you would say that," I looked up as two new comers entered the room; one, old and grizzled, obviously belonged to my Mentor’s circle of friends. The other, a tall, slender youth who moved with almost uncanny gracefulness, just as obviously did not. "Greetings, my comrades."

"S," H murmured. "I hope the train journey was not arduous."

"It was bearable," S shrugged, looking around the room with eyes that missed nothing. "Well," he said, gaze lingering over Heero, Wufei and myself. "I see you three have had a busy year."

The suspicion that had been growing steadily was confirmed. As H poured me a glass of wine I put a hand on his arm. "This year . . . we’re the collection aren’t we?"

"If you put it that way . . . yes." H looked at me over his drink. "I should have told you earlier. Does this upset you?"

"No," I shook my head. "I suppose, in a way, this is all rather flattering—if bewildering. I’ve never been thought of as an objet d’art before."

H smiled wryly. "Thank-you for indulging an old man’s fancy, Quatre. Tell me—" His mouth quirked up in a slight smile. "—how your . . . competition feels about this?"

I smiled into my wine. My small empathic abilities were not enough to allow me to really probe someone’s mind but I could pick up the emotions of people in the same room as me. "Heero is bored stupid," I said. "Wufei is measuring the rest of us up. He wants to win this—I think his pride is at stake."

"And S’s prodigy?"

I considered the youth, fine features half-hidden by a long jagged fringe. "Nervous," I said. "He’s not used to gatherings like this."

"And you, Quatre?" H toyed with his wineglass. "How do you feel?"

I thought a moment, accidentally catching Wufei’s eyes. The Asian youth broke the contact with a disdainful flick of his head.

"I want to win this too," I said, with a smile for H.

"Aren’t you going to introduce us to your . . . guest?" J demanded roughly of S.

"Of course. Gentlemen, meet Trowa Barton." S laid a restraining hand on Trowa’s arm, as it seemed the youth might flee. "And where is our host?"

"We haven’t seen him—or his . . . contribution since we got here," my Mentor answered, slowly swirling the wine in his glass around.

Master O snorted. "You heard what he said last year. He won’t be bringing a contribution."

"Last year we sought the most perfect sculptures," H explained to me. "G won—he’s a sculptor himself. He claimed that true perfection could exist only in art. We challenged that statement . . . and here we are, awaiting our host."

"It’s just like G to make us wait," J complained. "He must always make an entrance."

"Now, now," a rough voice startled us. "Is that anyway to talk about your host, my dear J? I might get offended."

J snorted as we turned to our host.

H had not been exaggerating when he described his friends as ‘odd.’ G alone would have merited that description, his protruding nose and uncouth hairstyle making him stand out even amongst a gathering such as this. His eyes were sharp and piercing and I didn’t like them as they scanned the other ‘contributions’ and myself. I had to remind myself he was our host and there was no reason for me to take an instant dislike to him . . . but I did all the same.

"I trust you find your accommodation satisfactory," G continued, as if daring his companions to find fault.

"They are more than adequate," H answered politely.

"Accommodation--hah! You know what we’re interested in," J snorted.

G nodded. "All in good time, my friends. Come now. Dinner is served and you’d better appreciate it. I spent a lot of time on it."

Rebuking us thus, he led us into an exquisitely furnished dining room, lined with Venetian glass, polished sandalwood and lit by two great crystal chandeliers, hung either end of the room and festooned with softly glowing candles.

The dining table was decorated with equally good taste. A white lace cloth was covered with a dazzling array of exotic and beautiful dishes, each one a masterpiece of both art and gastronomy. Vases of fresh lilies accompanied them, creating a scene of almost picturesque beauty.

All this was nothing to the creature waiting by the head of the table.

If someone had told me he’d stepped out of a painting I’d have believed them. Never had I encountered such ethereal beauty. His face was reminiscent of the Renaissance Masters, graced with the serene smile of a Botticelli and the fine proportions and grace of a Da Vinci. His eyes put them all to shame. Likewise, his hair, pulled back into a loose plait, could have been the work of Reubens or Titian. However there was nothing of the Renaissance liking for voluptuousness about him. What was showing of slender neck and shoulders recalled Classical Greek sculpture at its finest.

He was, in a word, perfect.

"This is Duo," G said carelessly, stepping to one side so he could observe his companions. His eyes glinted at the conflicting appreciation and consternation that played over our faces.

"Well," S said finally after a long silence. "You have outdone yourself, G."

"And us too," H said ruefully.

I couldn’t blame him. While I was not bad looking, my looks were merely conventional. Duo’s, on the other hand, were exceptional.

"I’m not so convinced," J said, folding his arms.

"Nor I," Master O said darkly. "Beauty is more than appearances."

"Yes, yes, yes I know your views. Beauty is the result of control, nobility, physical grace, intellectualism, whatever. I’m sure at the end of your visits you’ll have no choice but to admit Duo is perfect."

I’d have been embarrassed to be the subject of such intense scrutiny. Duo took it calmly, as he did the sullen glare Wufei was sending him.

O’s protégé had found what he considered competition—and he was not happy at all.

His reaction was not lost on G who smirked as he led Duo to the head of the table.

"Sit here, pet, so they can all get a good look at you."

Duo complied unblushingly, as G took the seat to his left.

Heero immediately elbowed Wufei and S out of the way to take the seat the other side of Duo. The rest of us were left to find what seats we could. I was not disappointed to find myself sitting next to Trowa, by talking to him throughout the meal I hoped to dispel some of his nervousness.

I also had a good view of the head of the table where G sat smirking over his protégé. He kept sending triumphant glances down the table to J. His companion, on the other hand, was watching his own charge with a scowl. Heero was ignoring the displeasure of his benefactor, more intent on his dinner companion, slipping him the choicest of the dishes on the table and trying to engage him in conversation.

Duo smiled at him, evidently enjoying the attention.

I reached out with my mind subtly, to discover if I was reading them right. I was rewarded by discovering that Heero’s interest was no more feigned than the steady dislike radiating from Wufei opposite me. No wonder J was so cross. His pupil now had no interest in winning the competition. I smiled as I stretched out to scan Duo’s emotions; it would be ironic if the collectors' plans were disrupted because of a love affair between the items collected—

I stopped, puzzled.

My search had returned an absolute blank.

I probed further.

There was nothing there. No thoughts, emotions—if he had been a statue he could not have produced a blanker reading. I sat back, flummoxed to no small degree.

--oOo—

"It’s not inconceivable that he could be blocking you," H said as we hung up our dinner jackets.

"But even if he was, there should be some awareness of it. Not just blank space," I protested.

"Quatre, I do not wish to malign your powers but you are only an amateur in these things," H chided gently.

I supposed he could be right. After all, my gift was slight . . . "I’ll see you in the morning, then."

H nodded, bidding me goodnight. I returned to my room but did not undress. I was far too restless to be able to prepare for sleep . . . my thoughts would not stop returning to Duo. I had to know how he’d blocked my thoughts, I just had to—maybe I could ask him?

I returned to the room we had dined in, letting the sounds of conversation guide me. Master O had excused Wufei and himself on the grounds of needing time for meditation before they retired, while Trowa had left as soon as politely possible. J and G remained, squabbling about their pupils, and occasionally discussing the years acquisitions with O. Heero was still talking to Duo at the end of the table.

I pulled a chair over to them.

"Hello," I said, smiling brightly. "I don't know if I've been introduced to you yet. Quatre Winner." I held out my hand.

Duo blinked at it a moment, then smiled beatifically and reached for it.

Perfect, I thought, even as a rather foolish grin etched itself onto my face. Skin to skin contact gives a much greater empathic reading--and he was smiling at me!

However, I only got the merest touch of warm skin against my fingers before it was abruptly cut off. I stared in surprise at Heero's hand firmly clamped around my wrist, so tightly it seemed it might cut off circulation. The look he was giving me was almost as painful. He was still beautiful, but frightening--his eyes were hard and devoid of all light, containing only malice.

"Go away," he said coldly.

I stared at him, before my eyes flicked over to Duo, staring astonished at us.

"No," I said. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to release me--"

Heero's hand dug tighter into my wrist even as his other hand went for my throat. I struggled madly to protect myself.

"Now now boys," G cackled as J pulled us apart with a silent efficiency that spoke of smouldering anger, "Play nicely. I can't have you damaging my pièce de resistance."

J glared at him. "You haven't won yet, G."

"But I will." His companion was unfazed. "Come now Duo, we should leave the others to their beauty sleep--they'll need it after all."

He extended a hand to Duo who complacently let himself be led from the room.

Heero leaned back against the wall to watch.

"He's confident," S observed. "I wonder where he acquired his protégé?"

J wasn't going to be drawn into a conversation. "Have you forgotten your training? What has possessed you, to act like that? Don't you want to win?"

Heero looked coldly at his teacher. "Winning the competition is no longer my objective." He bowed to all of us and walked out of the room-- taking the same door as G had.

"I think I too will retire for the night," I said, smiling to everyone else. "See you tomorrow." I hurried after Heero.

He'd already gone out of my sight. I wandered down the corridor, looking in the open doors as I passed. Within them was a collection of paintings and sculptures, all worthy of museums. It was very tempting to just browse among them, and forget my task. As I came to a branch in the corridors I sighed.

Which way to go now?

I'd never really considered using my empathic ability to search for someone, but it seemed the quickest way to determine where the others had gone--I shut my eyes and concentrated. A sharp burst of frustration located to my left--Heero.

I took the left corner.

There were no doors in this corridor. I followed it down carefully--there were no lights on. Clearly not a well used corridor--

I reached the door at the end of the corridor and found it slightly ajar. Trying to move as quietly as possible, I slipped inside. The room I found myself in was dimly lit, the only furniture being a desk at one end, at which G was seated.

A hand clamped itself over my mouth.

"Don't say anything," Heero instructed me, in a cold tone that did not bode well if I disobeyed.

After a moment I nodded--I did not want to be accused of sneaking around my host's house. Heero let go of my mouth and pulled me back into the shadows in which he was hiding. "Stay quiet," he told me. "With any luck he will leave soon."

I settled back to wait. Luckily G was not much longer. He scribbled a few more lines in his notebook and then, cackling to himself, flicked the lights off and left.

I blinked in the sudden darkness--then was suddenly seized by my throat.

"What do you think you are doing?" Heero demanded.

I pulled myself away. "I could ask you the same thing," I said. "However, I think we're both here for the same purpose."

He glared at me. "He is mine."

"That's debatable," I said, rubbing my neck absently and hoping this wouldn't leave a bruise. "Duo is not a normal person. Far from it, in fact."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm an empath," I explained. "I can sense emotions from people, sense what they're feeling."

"And what does Duo feel?" Heero asked. It was not quite the innocent question it seemed. I could feel anticipation coiled underneath it like a snake.

"Nothing."

I put a hand up hastily to forestall his reaction. "I don't mean it like that. Duo does not project any feelings at all--empathically speaking he's totally blank. As far as I know, such a phenomenon has never been encountered before."

"And that fact that he is gorgeous has nothing to do with it?" Heero turned his back on me before I had a chance to properly formulate an answer. "In any case, we're in the same boat. I saw G bring Duo in here. As you can see--" he gestured to the empty room. "He's clearly not here now."

I frowned as I found the light switch. "Well that's not possible. There must be a door or--"

"None. I looked before you turned up."

I frowned as Heero prowled around the room, looking for what, I wasn't exactly sure. "Well, this is a puzzle."

"Hn," Heero grunted, indicating he'd much rather be left alone.

With nothing else to do I looked more closely at the room. It was not as empty as I'd assumed. Crates of clay and broken statues were piled haphazardly around the periphery of the room, while the centre was taken by an object slightly taller than me and draped in a sheet. No doors were visible save the one we entered by.

"You're sure you saw Duo come in here?" I asked.

Heero ignored me.

I poked through the bits of statue either side of the room. It was rather disconcerting--a hand lay next to a dismembered body, a delicately formed foot stood by itself to one side of a pile of shards, on one of which a smile was etched--

I picked it up. "I know this smile," I said puzzled.

"What nonsense are you talking?" Heero demanded.

"This smile. Look at it. It's so familiar--"

Heero spared the briefest cursory glance over my shoulder. "Duo," he said.

He was right. That was Duo's smile, copied perfectly in marble--but then--

Heero and I acted simultaneously, turning to pull the sheet away from the object it concealed.

There could be no mistaking that smile. Demure and still, the statue looked out at us blankly.

Heero reached out, almost hesitantly, to touch the statue's face. "It is Duo. It's a perfect copy--"

"G is a far greater sculptor than I knew," I whispered, as I stared at what would surely become a latter day masterpiece. "But why--why would he keep it here? Why hide it rather than display it with his other works?"

"And where's the original?" Heero added.

"There's nothing more we can do here," I decided. I started to draw the sheet back over the statue, only to be halted by Heero.

"Leave it. I haven't quite finished looking at it."

J's pupil was hit bad. I left him to his infatuation. Returning to my room, I found my thoughts kept returning to the mystery of G's pupil--I would solve it. I would make sure of that.

--oOo--

Kept awake by unanswerable questions, I slept late, and was the last to join the company the following morning. A servant directed me to where breakfast had been served on a veranda, overlooking a pleasant garden where a bare chested Wufei practised katanas in the still morning air. I paused on the threshold to observe. The Asian youth was in his element, performing the complicated exercises with accuracy and grace.

O was smug, Trowa watched from the outskirts of the gathering with interest, G supervised the serving of breakfast with Duo seated by his side, and Heero, not far behind, watched the longhaired youth with a glance that never wavered. J was pointedly not talking him, discussing politics with H. I don't think Heero even noticed.

"Ah, Quatre," G hailed me. "Help yourself to the buffet and come join us."

Loading my plate, I complied, taking the empty seat on his other side.

"Well, you've seen O's prodigy in action. What do you think?"
The question was laced with cunning. I was reminded again that I did not like him.

Instead I looked out to the garden where Wufei continued his exercises.

"I'm not familiar with the art myself," I said. "But I dare say he performs them excellently."

"Oh, do you now?" G smirked. "And do you have any special talents?"

"Quatre plays many musical instruments like a master," H said.

"Well, you must play for us while you're here."

"I'd be delighted."

"Trowa is happy to perform for us as well," S announced.

"And what can yours do?" G asked, rather unwisely taunting J.

"Heero is proficient in several martial arts," J said coldly.

"Interesting. Perhaps he can test Wufei," G suggested.

"I wouldn't suggest it. Wufei is an expert in the arts he practices," O said.

Heero stepped forward to catch Duo's eye. "I will beat him for you."

The breathtaking violet eyes fastened on him, and a tentative blush spread across alabaster cheeks. Then Wufei broke the spell.

"I am done here. I am a scholar. I do not fight."

"Why bother with the practices then?" G asked.

"The katanas I practice are designed to elevate both mind and body, so that I may achieve greater unity of purpose. I do not need to prove my strength against weaker opponents to prove my worth or courage," Wufei bowed mockingly to Heero and then left.

Heero's fists were clenched.

I could understand why. Wufei had insulted him in front of Duo--I would not have been in the Chinese boy's shoes for the world.

"Quatre?" Trowa said hesitantly. "I play the flute."

"Really?" I smiled at Trowa. "Would you like to play a duet?"

"Now this should be worth hearing," G snickered.

I ignored him and took Trowa's hand. "I think the music room is this way."

I took the piano and after running through a few preliminary scales began a well-known piece. Trowa had found a flute and joined in with me.

"That was fun," I said. "Let's see, I wonder what else we can play together."

"Quatre," Trowa said quietly. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" I said, halting the chord I was in the middle of.

"Being nice to me. You know what the competition is."

"Just because we're competitors doesn't mean we can't be friends, Trowa," I said. "This competition isn't the be-all and end-all of existence, no matter what the others say."

Trowa gave me a smile. "I guess you're right."

"Let's see . . . do you like Beethoven?"

We were on our next song when Trowa suddenly stopped playing.

"What's the matter?" I asked, turning away from the piano. "Why did you stop?" And then I saw why. "Duo? What are you doing?"

He turned around to go.

"Wait!" I said. "You don't have to leave. You're not intruding." I looked anxiously at Trowa.

"We don't mind if you stay," Trowa said.

Duo smiled at us, hesitantly taking a seat by the window. "Before . . . when you were playing. I liked that."

"That was Beethoven," I said. "He's a great composer. You like classical music?"

"I don't know. I'd never heard anything like that before."

"But--you must have heard Beethoven before," I said, startled.

He shook his head.

"Oh," I said. "Well, don't worry. Trowa and I will give you a good introduction to his music. Right Trowa?"

He nodded, picking up his flute.

Halfway through 'Ode to Joy' a hesitant voice joined in. I smiled and nodded to Trowa to keep on playing. After a few false starts, Duo found his pitch.

"Well. Isn't this a pretty picture?"

G's coarse voice interrupted our impromptu concert. I was startled to see not just G, but the other collectors, Wufei and Heero standing at the door.

"Time for dinner," J said coldly.

The others complimented us on our playing. I could see by the smile on H's face that I had managed to please him at least. Heero was another matter. He pulled me into a corner as the others continued to the luncheon set out for us.

"How long was he with you?"

"I'm not sure. I tend to lose track of time when I'm playing," I said.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He did say something that struck me as odd--imagine! Never having heard Beethoven. And with G being his teacher I'd have thought that surely--" I shook my head.

"I went back to that room before," Heero said. "The statue is gone."

"What? How strange. But why tell me--no. You can't think . . . that's impossible!"

"I'm going back to that room tonight," Heero said. "I want to see what is really happening. You can accompany me as long as you don't get in my way."