Dorothy strode briskly back into her office, in a much better mood than when she had stormed out. Duo and Wufei's superficial bickering had calmed her down rapidly, and now she was hoping that Heero would have realized how right she was and would be willing to put his time to finding proof of O'Doul's involvement.
Expecting papers to still be scattered all over the floor, she was pleasantly surprised to see them not only picked up, but Heero perusing O'Doul's file while searching for something in the computer database.
Dorothy grinned triumphantly. He had seen the errors of his ways. Her grin wilted though when Heero spun around in his chair, smirking just as triumphantly back at her.
"About your friend O'Doul..."
"Aha!" Dorothy crowed. "I knew I was right!"
"Actually," A smile bloomed on Heero's face, "I've found a connection between him and Mickey DeFazio. I'm more inclined to believe that O'Doul is innocent rather than DeFazio."
Dorothy stared at him for a long moment, then started laughing. "DeFazio's dead. He died on Libra."
Heero stood and crossed his arms over his chest. "We thought Zechs was dead. Do you have proof? A body?"
"Heero, I don't need proof. I know. Besides, Libra exploded; there is no body."
"And, therefore, no proof."
Dorothy growled at his logic. "Damn it, Heero. We have no proof of anything! We just have to go with gut instinct, and I know O'Doul's involved."
Heero shrugged. "I can say the same thing about DeFazio."
Dorothy laughed scornfully. "Oh, good, Heero. The man's been dead for five years, and instinct tells you he's the perp. It's a good thing you're not a soldier anymore. You'd be firing on friends."
"And you've improved in what ways?" Heero retorted. "You're still a frosty bitch. I can still beat you at fencing with one hand tied behind my back- oh, I know! You can come up with ridiculous reasons why someone should be suspected of premeditated murder. He was at a party! Good heavens! Why would a low-class scum like that be at a party for any reason other than murder?"
Dorothy's face turned red, and she snapped, "I did not say that!"
"You thought it though."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did-"
Without warning, Heero grabbed her shoulders, yanked her towards him, and pressed his mouth to hers. He pulled away just as quickly as he had come, but his action- although short and rough- could be mistaken for nothing other than a kiss.
From Heero Yuy?
Dorothy's mind boggled. A moment passed, and her thought collected themselves from the random corners of her mind into which they had been thrown. The kiss settled into her mind as an actual event, not some kind of bizarre fantasy.
Her face reddened- whether from embarrassment or anger she wasn't certain- and she tried to scowl. The look wasn't very impressive since her face was beet red, but it would have to do.
Now it was time to give him the dressing down of his life. He wouldn't want to come anywhere within a fifty mile radius of her after the tongue-lashing he was going to receive. He was going to learn that no one could compete with Dorothy Catalonia when it came to scariness...
Unfortunately, her tongue wasn't cooperating. All she managed to spit out was, "Y-you bastard!" before she whirled and took off down the hall.
What was he thinking? How could he do that? It was un-called for, unexplainable even to himself, and unfortunately irrevocable. Regret settled in his gut. Actually, it did not have the same bite as regret. It was more like... joy? Though to be honest with himself, He had experienced regret only a handful of times in his life and joy even fewer, so he wasn't entirely sure of the feelings.
As he struggled to identify his reaction, an ambulance raced beneath his window, lights blazing and siren howling. He ignored it, but couldn't ignore Duo half an hour later when the braided man crashed into the office, panting to catch his breath.
"Dorothy... attacked... hospital."
Heero jumped up and ran down to his car, Duo following a dozen steps behind. He peeled out of the parking lot without waiting for Duo. He berated himself the entire drive to the hospital, what he knew was regret eating away his insides until he felt physically ill.
His car screeched to a halt outside the front of the hospital, and he jumped out, ignoring an orderly who screamed at him to move his car. He hurried inside, pausing only long enough to gather Dorothy's room number from the nurse on duty. Dorothy's eyes were closed as he entered the room, the soft blip of her heart monitor and the drip drip of an IV the only sounds.
Heero caught his breath at the extent of her injuries. Bandages were wrapped around the back of her head, her nose appeared to be broken, and stitches graced the left side of her face from her hairline down to the corner of her split lip. From the harshness of her breath, it sounded like at least one rib was broken.
Growling, Heero whipped around and stalked past Duo who had just entered and was panting heavily again. There was only one person who could be responsible, and he was going to pay.
O'Doul flung an arm up in front of his face to block Heero's savage punch. "Hey!" the Irishman exclaimed. "What's your prob-?"
The rest of his question was cut off by Heero landing a knee in his gut. Breath whooshing from his lungs, O'Doul staggered, and Heero's fist slammed into his jaw. O'Doul crashed to the floor and sat, stunned, waiting for the next assault.
When no attack came, he risked glancing up and immediately wished he hadn't. He was looking at Rage personified. Eyes so cold, too calm for someone fueled by rage. It unnerved him.
Spitting out a mouthful of blood-stained saliva, O'Doul mustered enough indignation in his voice to sound as angry as someone roused from their warm bed and beaten in their own apartment could be. "What in all nine levels of 'ell are ye up to, ye psycho?"
The passivity disappeared from Heero's face, and for a moment, O'Doul could swear his eyes glowed red. "You bastard, Dorothy's in the hospital, and you play innocent. You're not a very convincing liar," he growled.
The hair on O'Doul's arms prickled, and he held his hands up defensively. "I ain't lyin', and what's Dotty doin' in the hospital?"
A flicker of confusion crossed over Heero's face. "You didn't attack her?"
O'Doul shook his head.
Heero sighed, slumping, the tenseness vanishing from his lean frame. "I thought you'd done it, but I guess not. Damn, now I don't even know where to begin looking."
O'Doul staggered to his feet. "Ye think the guy who tried to assassinate Minister Dorlian's the one who attacked Dottie?"
Heero shrugged. "Maybe, but Dorothy was sure you had a hand in that."
O'Doul rubbed his jaw. "Ye throw a nasty punch. Well, I can keep me ears open. I've heard a few whispers since I last talked to Dottie, but nothin' to go on. I'll tell ye if I hear anythin' substantial."
Heero nodded wearily. "All right, just anything at all."
O'Doul grinned, although it caused a sharp pain to spear through his jaw. "Trust me."