Disclaimer: I don't own the boys.

The Queen of Hearts

Chapter 1: The Stranger, the Angel, and the Queen.

The piano music played on as yet another brawl ensued at the Hose Shoe Saloon. This was not an altogether uncommon occurrence, and so the band played on. Granted, at this time of day, the band only consisted of the lone piano player and his trusty ivories. Through the scuffle, the boy seemed impervious to the noise, as if it couldn't touch him or his music, and that, partners, is what attracted the attention of the figure sitting in the darkened corner of the Saloon. The stranger only been there for the day, but that day was spent admiring the blonde musician as the muscles of his back and arms shifted and moved in time with the music he pounded from the keys.

The stranger kept to himself, downing his bitter whisky in one go and nodding at the serving girl for a refill. His verdant eyes glued to the angelic piano player. Angelic, in this saloon? It seemed highly unlikely. In the light of day, the place looked shabby and pretty run down. The furniture was beaten and scratched and the floor had all sorts of wear and tear, but judging by the current brawl, the conditions of the place weren't a big surprise.

The bar was run by a burly man, clearly a foreigner, but who wasn't foreign in these parts? The man cleared six feet in height and it was clear that no one seriously got hurt in his bar. The man, Rashid, his name was, picked up the two bickering drunkards, one a chink and the other a native, if his braid were any indication, and bodily threw them out of his bar; another day, another scuffle, and still the music played on.

The musician himself was so grossly out of place. His fair skin and pale golden hair seemed to reflect the dim lights in the place, giving him a sort of eerie glow. It didn't help that the boy, surely no older than seventeen, dove into his music, giving himself heart and soul, to the notes that no one else seemed to appreciate. And just as the stranger was contemplating buying the young man a drink, for surely he needed it, the music stopped and stillness descended upon the room for a few precious seconds that seemed to stretch forever. Then the boy was gone.

Green eyes searched the room and noticed the swinging door beside the bar swaying and he made his move. He would have made it too had not Rashid clamped his hand on the stranger's arm and held him back.

"That's for employees only, Son," the man said, as he led the stranger away. "Have another drink and stay for a bit. The show starts in another hour."

It was a ploy to distract him from what lay behind the door, but he couldn't help but feel like child once more when standing next to Rashid. He himself was of an impressive height and his lanky build lent itself to the illusion of being taller than he was, but this Rashid dwarfed everything around him. How could such a bear of a man work so well amongst the breakable bottles of liquor behind the bar?

Suddenly there was music again, and his heart lightened. He turned around and looked to find the boy he'd named "Angel" in his head, but instead of golden hair, he found chocolate, instead of milky skin, he found golden. His hopes dashed, the stranger sat himself down and ordered another drink, resolving to stay in that spot until the angel came back.

The hour passed and Angel still hadn't returned. In the meantime, a game of cards had started and the stranger had been lulled into it after seeing that the drunks he was playing against were rather poor players. He played and lost every once in a while to avoid being called a cheater and instigating another fight, but he was beginning to tire of the game.

Suddenly, the music started up with a different feel. More instruments, a fiddle, an accordion, and some sort of percussion instrument were added to the medley but the piano was the dominant force. The tune turned lively and the lights dimmed. Outside, it was well past nightfall and an explosion of color ran through the dingy saloon. The place filled up rather quickly and girls clad in obscenely short corseted dresses paraded around the small platform area that served as a stage. Really, their enable could only be described as undergarments, no reputable woman would ever be seen in such scandalous garments outside of her dressing chamber, and much less in the gaudy colors that these garments came in.

The favorite cabaret girl seemed to be a petite blonde with pale skin and blue-green eyes. On her head, she had a headband with a sparkly jewel and feather that separated her airy bangs from the slightly darker coiffed curls on her head. Her arms were covered from the elbows down in black satin gloves and around her slim wrists, she wore jingling bangles. She was not voluptuous by any means and the tight teal satin corset she wore gave the illusion of a full figure. The corset was trimmed in black lace which became longer at the bottom of the corset to form a short skirt that really only covered the top part of her thighs. The lace in the back was gathered and decorated with feathers in such a way that every time she moved, the audience got a good glimpse of her black-satin clad backside. Her legs were encased in fishnet stockings that ended in short high heeled boots and were only interrupted by the matching teal garter she wore.

All in all, she wasn't that bad of a sight, and though she had something about her, the stranger could only look longingly at the piano bench and will it to trade the man currently sitting there with the angel from that afternoon. The song and dance ended and the girls began to make rounds, giving people their drinks, blowing on the cards for luck, and being groped at every turn in return for a giggle or outraged slap on the face of the man who dared. Then she was there again. Her pretty made-up face grinning at the stranger as she made her way onto his lap, heedless of the game of cards.

"What do you want, woman?" he asked, trying to ignore her and get back to his game.

"I've never seen you in these parts honey," she purred in a sweet voice straight into his ear, "and I never forget a handsome face."

"Go away."

"Aw, Darling, you don't mean that… at least tell me your name," she persisted, and whispered quietly into his ear, "The one on the left has two pairs."

The stranger looked at her oddly, why would she be giving him tips? "Tell me yours first."

"Well, around here, I'm known as the Queen of Hearts, but you can call me Q-baby… and the one across from you is bluffing," the last bit, she delivered in that quiet whisper so no one else would know what she was saying to him.

"Trowa," the green-eyed stranger said as he showed his hand, a straight, and collected his winnings.

"Trowa, huh?" she drawled, leaning in and kissing his lips lightly, "I like it."

The woman then made to get off his lap, shamelessly rubbing her backside against him and made her way around the tables, serving drinks and flitting away from unwanted advances. The rest of the night passed away in the same fashion; a song and dance every hour on the hour until three in the morning and that blonde coming back to the poker table and giving the stranger, Trowa, tips and letting him know when to call bluffs. He never lacked for a drink that night, and as he gathered himself to go spend the night at the local inn, he came away from the saloon not with Angel, as he had hoped, he'd not even gotten another glimpse of the boy that night, but instead with the garter that that pushy woman threw his way at the end of the night.

But why was he keeping it? It wasn't to remember her, no; it was for the boy that played the piano. Trowa smirked; perhaps staying in this town a little longer wouldn't hurt. As long as he kept his nose clean for the time being, he'd have time enough to find Angel and lure him into his bed… unfortunately, he still had a certain harpy to deal with.

Jess' rant:

Yes, I am back from the dead, and you all have the lovely Dentelle Noir to thank for pestering me to get this written. She can be tenacious when she sets her mind to it and would not go to bed until I'd written the first sentence to this and turned off my messengers. Also thanks to Persephone Choiseul for also encouraging me to write lately. With two people bugging me at the same time for the same general thing, it was only a matter of time before I caved. I am SUCH a people pleaser…

And on that note… if I get just ONE review that tells me 'this chapter is too short' or something similar enough, I am going BACK on HIATUS! If I can't please readers with my writing, I simply will not write at all. There, I said it; please don't let that discourage you from giving me all sorts of OTHER feedback… though I do prefer the constructive kind. All right, funny bunnies, until next time!