Title: Frost
Author: Mookie
Pairing: Hilde/Dorothy, implied 1x2x1
Rating: NC17
Warnings: yuri, graphic sex, lemon/lime
Response to request on fic_on_demand LJ community in which Hilde gives Dorothy a flower. (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fic_on_demand/1412.html)
Dorothy Catalonia gritted her teeth just slightly as the needle hit another nerve ending, but otherwise she gave no outward sign that the sensation was unpleasant.
Hilde Schbeiker wiped the blood off the purple monkshood and stepped back. "It's done," she said. She unwrapped a rather large square of gauze and taped it into place.
"You'll want to keep that in place at least a few hours," she advised. "Wash it gently with antibacterial soap and then apply a thin layer of ointment to it." She pulled off her latex gloves and reached into a clear plastic jar, withdrawing a few sample packets. "This is what I'd recommend you use."
She handed the ointment samples to Dorothy, who was now sitting up on the padded table, her shirt back in place. As Hilde washed her hands, she commented, "I'd recommend using your bare hands if possible. If you're not able to reach it, perhaps you could find someone to assist you."
Dorothy studied the writing on the foil packets in her hand carefully and smiled, as if the small print held secrets visible only to her.
"I am sure I will be able to tend to it myself," she said. She opened the small purse she carried and withdrew a small money clip. When Hilde turned to face her, Dorothy slid off the table without a sound, then handed her the money.
"If I am not satisfied with its appearance," she said, holding Hilde's gaze for a moment. "I will be back."
Hilde suspected she held on to the money for just a bit longer than necessary, but by the time that thought registered, Dorothy was gone, the swish of her blonde hair the last Hilde saw of her.
Until a week later.
Hilde recognized the hair first. She found her feet carrying her across the grass, past picnicking families and Frisbee chasing dogs, and to the edge of the river, where Dorothy was gazing over the calm surface.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Hilde Schbeiker?"
Hilde wasn't sure herself. "Just curious, I suppose."
"You know what that did to the cat," Dorothy said, turning to face the dark-haired woman.
"At this point in my life," Hilde said, moving to stand next to her and looking out at the water, "I think curiosity isn't much of a threat."
"Look what it did to Pandora," Dorothy said, her tone amused.
"If there's one thing that got me through the debacle with your friends in White Fang," Hilde replied, "it's that there is always hope."
"He certainly did surprise me," Dorothy said quietly. "A more determined young man I've yet to meet."
Hilde's first thoughts were of Duo, 'her' Gundam pilot, as she'd mentioned to Relena. Then she remembered who she was talking to. "Heero is certainly that."
Dorothy laughed quietly. "Yes, Heero Yuy does most certainly fit that description as well."
As Hilde puzzled over the meaning of her words, Dorothy was walking past her, the brush of the long blond tresses caressing her bare arms.
"Enjoy your Saturday in the park, Miss Hilde," she murmured before she continued walking.
Hilde didn't watch her leave, her gaze fixed on the small waves that had appeared in the distance.
What the hell was she doing with her life? She wasn't sure if she meant Dorothy, or herself.
"Something on your mind, Hilde?"
His deep voice pulled her from her musing. "I'm sorry?"
Duo shook his head. "You worry me, Hilde. You're a million miles away."
She placed a hand over his, wrapped as it was around his coffee cup.
"I'm fine, Duo." She looked into his worried blue eyes. "Truly."
The skeptical expression remained, and she attempted to change the subject. "So, how's Heero?"
He didn't fall for it, but she'd known from their first meeting that Duo was a crafty one.
"He's fine. We're fine. I'm worried more about you."
She removed her hand. "I left the scrap yard because I wanted something different in life. We're young, Duo. I didn't want to spend my life salvaging the spoils of war."
The words didn't make him flinch at all, though she'd regretted saying them. They were true, however, and Duo respected honesty.
"Sometimes I forget," he said, "that we're young. I suppose," he said, downing the last of his coffee, "that's one of the things that I love about Heero."
He very rarely spoke openly about his feelings, so Hilde knew how important what he wanted to say was.
"I respect your decision, Hilde, the way you've respected ours. I care about you."
She was up and out of her chair and to his side of the table, giving him an awkward half embrace.
"I know. You were there after-"
He pressed his lips to the side of her head. "I know."
Duo didn't like to talk about it. He'd been torn, that day aboard Peacemillion. He wanted to insure she was going to make it, wanted to do his part to take care of Milliardo Peacecraft, wanted to protect the lives and happiness of those close to him as well as those of the colonists and everyone on earth.
He'd been deeply hurt by what he'd felt was the colonies' betrayal, and when she'd left Oz, she felt like perhaps she'd given back a small piece of his faith.
She trusted Duo. There weren't many people she trusted anymore.
She stood up and dug into her pocket for money for coffee.
"My treat," she said. "I insist."
"Hilde," he began, a bit uncertainly. He wasn't sure what to say, and she wasn't sure if she had answers for him.
"I still think you should surprise Heero with a nice rendering of a rose, or maybe a pair of blue orchids, where only he can see it."
"What happened to the camel?" He played along with the teasing, although she knew he wasn't entirely comfortable discussing his sex life. At least she assumed he had one. She wasn't about to ask.
"I just couldn't decide on one hump or two, and I'd hate to make either of you feel inadequate."
"You're happy?" he asked, his voice a bit strained.
"As happy as I know how to be right now."
She knew that he understood. It was the same for many of them.
"Tell Heero I said hello," she said, leaving without a backward glance.
Hilde returned to the studio, but didn't turn on the neon sign out front. She needed a bit of time to think about Duo's words.
She heard the door open and closed her eyes briefly. Damn it, she knew better than to leave the door unlocked. The soldier in her told her not to leave her back to the door, but the weary young woman inside wanted to just throw a random object at the intruder and tell them to get the hell out.
Before the words "we're closed" left her lips, she recognized the footfalls, and knew who was there before she turned around.
"Happiness is an illusion," Dorothy said, her lips curled in that permanent smirk.
"Only someone with a cold heart would think that."
Dorothy tilted her head slightly as if acknowledging that statement.
"They're impressive, these Gundam pilots," she said. "You could do worse for company."
"And you would know this from personal experience."
"As much as you would, Miss Hilde."
"Let's dispense with the false show of respect, Dorothy," Hilde snapped. "I don't have time or patience to deal with you or your warped sense of humor."
Despite her desire to physically eject Dorothy from the studio, she was unable to do so. The blonde had a commanding presence. A flicker of something that on anyone else might have been regret, or perhaps grudging respect, appeared on Dorothy's face.
"I'd like you to take a look at the tattoo," Dorothy said abruptly. "I cannot see it properly, even with a mirror."
Hilde sighed and went to the sink to wash her hands. After she'd dried them, she reached for a pair of latex gloves. She turned to face Dorothy again and froze.
The blonde was unbuttoning her shirt nonchalantly. When the last one slipped through the buttonhole, she turned so her back was to Hilde and let the shirt slip to the floor. She gathered her hair and lifted it slightly so the still healing tattoo was visible at the small of her back.
"Can you see all of it?"
"I-" Hilde's voice was dry. She'd not realized when she was working on it how well formed Dorothy's backside was. Her eyes traveled over the monkshood. Part of it disappeared beneath Dorothy's skirt.
"I'm not coming on to you, Miss Hilde," Dorothy said. "You're a professional. I want to know how it looks."
The tattoo, of course, was what she was referring to.
"It's fine," she said.
Dorothy looked over her shoulder. "Don't you need to take a closer look?"
"It's fine," Hilde repeated. Dorothy released her hair, disappointing Hilde slightly as it covered the graceful curve of her spine. The shirt was picked up and quickly donned.
Hilde grabbed a few small bottles of hand lotion and walked toward Dorothy once she was completely dressed. "You can stop using the ointment if you wish and switch to this instead," she said, practically shoving the samples at the other woman.
"Thank you," Dorothy said, accepting the offering with an amused smile. Hilde waited five minutes after she was gone before walking out of the room and to the door, where she turned the lock viciously. She spun around, rested her back against the door, and slid to the ground, where she wrapped her arms around her shins and rested her head on her knees.
Was it a normal phase, then, at this age? Maybe what Duo and Heero had was just a rite of passage, homosexual exploration, while they tried to find out who they were.
She didn't think any of them would ever realize something approximating normal.
She thought of the way Duo's entire face had lit up that day Heero had shown up at the scrap yard, and the much subtler, but equally heartwarming look, on Heero's face in return.
Who was she to judge?
Was Dorothy right? Was happiness just an illusion?
Didn't Heero and Duo deserve some of that illusion, even if it was?
Did she?
She closed her eyes and cried.
The tattoo parlor never opened for business that day.
Hilde approached the solitary figure standing with her head bowed.
"Here to offer your condolences?" Dorothy asked. She didn't look up. Hilde tried to determine if there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but was unable to do so.
"I'm sorry," she offered.
"Regret," Dorothy said, shaking her head. "He played well, but he lost."
The change of topic confused Hilde for just a moment, before she realized that perhaps the two thoughts weren't entirely unrelated.
"Why are you sorry?" Dorothy asked, lifting her chin. Her eyes bored into Hilde's.
"Because loss is painful."
Dorothy took the sun hat that she'd been holding between her hands and placed it on her head. She turned away from the grave marker and walked past Hilde, who followed.
It seemed only natural to climb into the limo with Dorothy. The blonde woman stared out the window as the scenery went by. Hilde's gaze remained fixed on Dorothy.
She didn't think she'd ever seen her look contemplative. Granted, she could count on one hand the number of times her paths and Dorothy's had crossed, and most of them were after the White Fang debacle.
"Why did you do it, Dorothy?"
"Why do any of us do the things we do?" she answered, still not turning from the window. "To feel alive."
That had been the end of the discussion. When they arrived at Dorothy's family home, Hilde followed her into the manor and into what appeared to be a small study.
An elaborately carved desk with a velvet-covered chair, angled to take advantage of the sunlight. A couch with matching upholstery in the opposite corner. An intricately woven tapestry hanging on one wall, and a modest bookshelf with books that were so uniform in appearance they appeared to be sculpted.
When Dorothy spoke again, Hilde thought she'd misheard.
"Did I ever what?"
Dorothy graced her with one of her Mona Lisa smiles. "I'll assume that's a no."
"Duo and I were never more than friends."
"Have you ever wondered?"
Hilde felt the conversation was spiraling out of her control. "What about you?" she asked in desperation. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like?"
"Perhaps I already know."
"Heero..." she trailed off at once. Why had she assumed Dorothy meant Heero?
Dorothy's quiet laughter reminded her why the other woman annoyed her so.
"Heero Yuy is certainly an intriguing, charismatic young man," Dorothy said. "But he is not the only fish in the sea, so to speak." She laughed again, at some private joke apparently. "Although I can tell you that being skewered by Heero's sword does bring with it a rush of euphoria."
Hilde wasn't sure how much was innuendo and how much was meant as a mere metaphor.
"You don't trust me," Dorothy mused. She walked over to the tapestry and fingered it. Hilde watched as the rich colorful fabric was stroked by Dorothy's long, slim digits.
"You've given me no reason to."
Another peal of laughter. "You are nothing like so many others of my acquaintance, Miss Hilde."
"Don't call me that," Hilde grated out.
Dorothy turned and walked toward her. When they were inches apart, Dorothy's lips curled into a blood-chilling smile.
"I could call you other names," she said, reaching her hand out and running it through the hair at the side of Hilde's head.
"Dorothy..."
"I wasn't coming on to you at the studio," Dorothy said. "But I am now."
That gave Hilde the presence of mind to pull away.
"What the hell are you up to, Dorothy?"
Dorothy's smile widened. "I'm pursuing that elusive happiness. We're young, as you said to your friend. Are you telling me that Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell are the only ones who seek it? I do not pretend to be Heero's bosom buddy, but he has been searching for something to ground him for a while. He's taken a chance, and I would certainly hate to think that Heero had bested me yet again."
"This is a game to you?"
"Everything is a game, Miss Hilde. There are winners and there are losers. The thrill is in how many stops you can pull out during play. It's the rush of adrenaline, the beauty of the dance." She eyed Hilde from top to bottom, slowly and appraisingly. "You're an attractive young woman. You have strength and determination and I'll go as far as to say 'guts' as well. Your steel will was forged under different circumstances than many in my normal circle of acquaintances.
"I'd like to think you were brave enough to reach for the proverbial brass ring. Are you?"
Hilde swallowed. "I'm not afraid of you."
"I should hope not. That would make the game far less exciting. How far are you willing to go to attain the illusion?"
"I'll try anything once," Hilde said flippantly, her mouth dry. Dorothy approached her again, a pleased, triumphant look on her face. Hilde wanted to wipe the smirk off her face, to turn the tables, even for a moment.
As soon as Dorothy was close enough, Hilde reached out and slid her fingers through the smooth blonde strands. She pulled Dorothy to her roughly and kissed her.
She'd never kissed anyone before, and never imagined her first kiss to be with a woman, but she'd seen the look of content on Duo's face when he'd called her early in the morning, and she knew why it was there.
Maybe Dorothy was right, and it was only temporary. However, life, too, was only temporary, and she did want to find a bit of that elusive happiness.
She adjusted the angle of her head, and opened her mouth to Dorothy's questing tongue.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears. She focused all her attention Dorothy's lips, pushing the intrusive tongue back and slicking against it with her own. She withdrew slowly and watched in fascination as Dorothy tilted her head back, exposing her throat.
It was with renewed determination that Hilde went for the jugular, but with soft nipping kisses.
Dorothy's fingers were unfastening the button of Hilde's pants, and Hilde reciprocated by reaching underneath the blonde hair for the zipper of Dorothy's dress. It caught once, and she pressed her body closer to Dorothy's as she struggled with it. Dorothy's hand slipped inside her loosened trousers and her index finger slid unerringly between Hilde's folds. The light grazing touch made Hilde aware of how wet she was, and Dorothy's pleased chuckle did nothing to keep her cheeks from flaming.
She yanked the zipper harder and was relieved to feel it give. Dorothy reluctantly removed her hand and let the dress slide off her shoulders, over her hips, and to the floor around her ankles. Hilde toed off her shoes and pulled her shirt over her head, needing to do the disrobing herself. She didn't want Dorothy to do it.
Dorothy shook her head bemusedly as she slid her panties off and dropped them to the floor with the dress. She stepped over the pile of clothes and walked to the couch, sprawling across it on her stomach with her hair covering her backside and her arms as well as part of the floor.
Hilde hurriedly finished undressing and walked to the sofa, planning on straddling Dorothy and then hoping that inspiration would strike.
She paused to admire the way Dorothy's hair glistened. It was so much lighter than her own, so much longer. Not the hair of a soldier, but then, Milliardo Peacecraft and Duo both seemed to manage just fine.
She couldn't imagine either of them looking as enticing as Dorothy did at that moment, and then she banned thoughts of everyone else from her mind. It was just hair, and Dorothy was just a woman.
She paused again. They were both women. It made her balk, made her rethink what she was about to do in the pursuit of 'happiness.'
Dorothy turned to her side and looked at her with her knowing smile, as if to suggest she knew all along that Hilde would lose her nerve.
"What do you suppose Duo and Heero are doing right now?" she mused. "Do you think they are weighing the consequences of their current actions?"
"That's different."
"Grasp the brass ring, Hilde, or get off the carousel. It only goes in circles. The sights do not change, no matter how many times you ride it."
"That's not true," Hilde said. "Things change with the seasons."
"Not for you, Miss Hilde. You are eternally frozen in a winter of your discontent. It's a very cold place." Dorothy's voice was tinged with bitterness. "Your clothes are where you left them."
She shifted her position so that she was on her back, and she slid a hand down her body, her fingers seeking something.
Hilde knew about the clitoris; she wasn't completely ignorant of a woman's anatomy. She assumed Dorothy found it when she began rubbing her finger in a circular motion, her hips undulating slightly.
Dorothy's mouth, the source of so many riddles and enigmas, caught her attention. Dorothy had sucked in her top and bottom lips and clamped her mouth together briefly before she let loose with a very soft moan.
It was surreal. Hilde was still watching Dorothy masturbate, still standing there stark naked, and found she didn't want to stop watching.
"Follow your emotions, Hilde Schbeiker," she heard, but whether it came from Dorothy, the memory of something she'd heard, or her own inner voice, she didn't know.
She wanted to know what secrets Dorothy possessed. Wanted to lay her bare and find out how much was nothing more than a masquerade.
She dropped to her knees by the couch, and Dorothy smiled, although her fingers hadn't stopped their lazy circles.
"I knew you'd stay."
"Oh?"
Dorothy chuckled again. "It was my limo that brought us here."
Hilde's hand covered Dorothy's, but did not still the motion of her fingers.
"Kiss me."
Hilde started to get to her feet, and Dorothy's throaty laughter stopped her. "No."
The meaning behind those words was immediate, and Hilde panicked. "I can't," she whispered.
"You can," Dorothy said, arching her back off the couch.
Hilde watched where the fingers teased and the way Dorothy's body responded. She became aware that she was quite literally wet and felt a prickling sensation along her skin. She was sure her hair was standing on end.
She was a quick study, and before she thought about it too much, she took a deep breath and buried her face between Dorothy's thighs.
The sharp cry of surprise from Dorothy as the tip of her tongue caressed the engorged clitoris was encouraging, and Hilde laved the bud as Dorothy held herself open with her fingers. Dorothy's free hand buried itself in Hilde's hair, and Hilde expected her face to be forced against Dorothy's vagina, but to her surprise, all the fingers did were clench each time Hilde alternated between short flicks and long strokes.
"Hilde," Dorothy gasped, making the dark-haired woman grow bolder. She finally braved penetrating the prone woman with her tongue, then went as far as inserting a finger as she continued to caress all of Dorothy with her mouth.
Dorothy hadn't lied. She called Hilde a variety of names, none of them beginning with 'Miss.' Each moan, each gasping exclamation, filled Hilde with an oddly tense, unfulfilled, and eager sensation.
Both of Dorothy's hands were in her hair as she bucked her hips hard against Hilde's face, and she gasped as she came. Hilde hadn't expected that to be true. She'd assumed only men actually 'came,' so the flood of warmth took her by surprise.
Dorothy stopped thrashing for a moment and quickly rolled to her side, then drew her legs up.
"Holy shit," she said, making Hilde blink at her in surprise. Dorothy laughed, then reached over for a linen handkerchief and handed it to Hilde, who wiped her face and finger off. "That was certainly...enjoyable."
Hilde noticed that Dorothy's entire body was flushed, although with pleasure or embarrassment she couldn't tell. She would never have considered the latter, but then, she'd never seen Dorothy at a loss for words, either.
Hilde rubbed at her tongue with the handkerchief, then folded it neatly. She walked to her clothes and quietly donned them. Dorothy made no move to stop her.
"You can keep the handkerchief," Dorothy said. She didn't cover herself, but her hair served that purpose rather well. "I'll have the car brought around for you if you'd like to freshen up while I contact my driver."
Hilde nodded, thinking she would like to brush her teeth, too, but that was an awkward request to make. "Thank you."
"I should be the one thanking you," Dorothy said, surprising Hilde yet again.
"This doesn't mean anything, Dorothy."
"It's not supposed to."
Hilde ran a hand through her hair and tried to search for an appropriate response. She had none. "Good-bye, Dorothy."
"Hilde," Dorothy said, stopping her before her hand reached the doorknob. Hilde paused. "Even if the brass ring tarnishes, it is still worth having, still worth having reached for, even for that single moment in time."
Hilde turned and smiled at her. "I'll return your handkerchief after I've had it cleaned."
Dorothy's brows raised in surprise. "You do that."
I will, Hilde thought as she opened the door and left Dorothy, still cloaked in nothing but hair, on the couch.
It changed nothing, she supposed, but she had enjoyed the physical rush. It explained a hell of a lot more about Duo's glow when she spoke to him.
She was young. Decisions she made today didn't have to bind her for the rest of her life.
She would return the handkerchief to Dorothy Catalonia. It was only fair.
And her pride as a tattoo artist insisted that she reexamine the artwork to insure it was an accurate rendering. After all, monkshood didn't really bloom until late spring, and the frost was just beginning to thaw.
The End
(:./mookie/frost)
