Always and Forever

by SpiffyStar

Quatre's getting married?!?! See how Heero, Duo, and especially Trowa take the news. Sorry, no Wufei.

1. Always and Forever 1

Disclaimer:  I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the characters involved.  They belong to some very successful people in Japan.  I am making no money for writing this story T_T   I don't own GTA, Fritos, or M&M's, either.

Rating/Warnings:  PG, very, very mild language, shonen ai, angst, sap, OC

Pairings:  4+OC, 3+4, 1+2

Forever and Always

By:  SpiffyStar

"Trowa!  I'm home!"

Trowa walks into the small living room of his and Catherine's trailer, and gives his sister a small smile.  "Welcome back.  How was the movie?"

Catherine places her jacket on the back of the couch, along with her purse.  "It was nice, thanks.  How're you feeling?  Better?"  She puts the back of her hand up to Trowa's forehead.  "You still have a bit of a fever.  Did you eat?  Let me make you something."

"I had some soup."

"Oh."

Trowa walks past her and sits down on the couch.  The phone rings.  Catherine picks it up.  "Hello?  He's sick.  Okay."  Covering the mouthpiece, Catherine says, "Trowa, it's for you," and hands him the cordless phone.

"Hello?  Hi, Duo.  TV?  No, why?  Okay."  Trowa hangs up the phone and reaches for the remote.

"Who was it?" Catherine asks, taking the phone from her brother's hand and putting back on the cradle.

"Duo.  He says there's something on TV that I should watch," Trowa answers, turning on the TV to channel 4.  On the screen is a woman interviewing a young man with light, blond hair and big, sea-blue eyes.  Trowa's eyes widen.  "Quatre."

Catherine notices her brother's expression and sits down next to him.  "Oh, he's always on the news.  Everyone sees him as a model businessman, so people pay attention to how he does everything."

On the television, the interview continues:

"So, Mr. Winner, what has been keeping you so busy these past few weeks?  We haven't been able to catch up with you for at least a month."

Quatre gives a polite chuckle and smiles kindly.  "With the Mars Colony Project getting started, there have been many more meetings lately, so I haven't really had the time for any interviews."

"And how are the plans coming?"

"We've gotten confirmation on funding from several corporations, and the main staff has been chosen.  We hope to get started on the surface of Mars in less than a year.  Hopefully after the New Year."

"So soon?  Do you think the project is being rushed at all?"

"No.  We have a great crew and a growing number of families looking forward to a new life on a new planet."

"Excellent.  Now, regarding a subject that I'm sure many viewers are very interested in:  there have been rumors of an engagement.  Would you care to clear this up?"  The interviewer gives Quatre a sly look, making the blond blush.

"Oh, yes.  Umm… no-nothing has been finalized, but yes, there are plans for a marriage."

"Is the young lady with you this evening?"

"No, she is currently at my estate."

"You're living together?"

"N-no, she-she is visiting with my sisters," Quatre stammers.

Trowa stares, stunned, at the TV while Catherine reaches over to the remote and turns it off.

"Trowa?" Catherine asks worriedly.  No answer.  "Trowa?"  He doesn't say anything, but nods, gets up, and leaves the small living room.

Walking into his bedroom, Trowa falls onto his bed, face down.  Catherine walks in after him and sits at the edge of the bed.  She places a hand on his back and says his name again.  "Trowa?"

"…"

"You okay?"

"Mmm…"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"What's wrong?"

"…"

"Trowa."

"I'm gonna sleep now."

"Alright.  Just one question."

"…"

"Does it bother you that he didn't tell you?  Or that he's getting married at all?"

"Neither."

"You should call him for once."

"Mmm."

~+~+~+~+~+~

The next morning…

A lump in a large bed shifts slightly, revealing a head of golden-blond hair floating on an oversized pillow.  The door to the bedroom opens softly and a large Arabian man walks in.

"Master Quatre?"

There is more movement in the bed.  The man chuckles and says, "Master Quatre, it is almost noon.  I have brought you your tea."

"Mmnf.  Hnnfd aw nowm."

"Sorry?"

Suddenly, the lump sits up, a tangled mess.  It wriggles around some and then starts thrashing about wildly, surprising the large man.  Escape seems unlikely for the mass trapped in its fluffy, cloth prison.  The Arabian cautiously approaches the bed, setting his tea tray on the nightstand.  Just as he reaches to pull on the sheets, the object of his attention writhes even more chaotically, causing it to crash to the carpeted floor.

"Oomf!  Nnn… owh!"  Still trapped, the prisoner lays still.

"Master Quatre, will you allow me to help?"

"Uunnn…"

Big hands grab hold of cloth and pull, effectively freeing a pale, blond young man.

"Master Quatre, are you all right?"

The young blond, looking quite frazzled after his early noon ordeal, gazes sheepishly up at his savior.  "Yes.  Thank you, Rashid."  Quatre slowly eases himself to his feet, mindful not to trip in his former trappings.  "I think you may have saved my life."

Rashid gives a low, guttural laugh and gestures with his hand toward the tea tray.  "I brought you some tea.  Please, drink and then dress.  Jenna is expected in less than an hour."

At the mention of the name, Quatre sharply looks up.  "Jenna?"

"Yes."  Rashid makes his way to a large closet across the room and opens the mahogany double-doors, revealing an extensive collection of designer business clothing.

"I thought her visit wasn't until tomorrow."

"Then you were mistaken."

Quatre picks up his teacup and takes a wary sip.  He quickly pulls his lips from the steaming ceramic.  "Hot."

Rashid politely smiles and takes two hangers out of the closet, laying them on the bed - one pair of dark-gray dress pants, and one white, short-sleeved, oxford shirt.  "She is a nice girl."

"Huh?  Oh, yeah."  Quatre stares into his drink.

"She asked me to show her how you like your tea.  She's looking forward to making it for you herself."  Rashid goes back to the closet and brings back a pair of classic, black dress shoes.

Quatre continues his study of his cup.

"Master Quatre?"

"Yeah…"

Rashid sighs and places the shoes at the foot of the bed.  "Have you told your friends yet?"

"No, but I'm sure that they've heard about it by now.  News travels fast on the colonies."

"And what of Trowa?  He is on earth, am I right?"

At the mention of the name, Quatre's eyes go wide and his hands tighten around the cup.  "He's still with the circus."

"You should call and tell him the news."

"I don't-" Just then, the vid-phone rings.  Rashid starts for it but Quatre stops him, his hand on the large man's arm, and pushes the receive button.  The vid-block is turned on, so there is only audio.

"Hello, Quatre Winner speaking."

"Man, Quat!  Bein' all formal so early in the morning!  Oi, where are you?"

"Duo!"  Quatre quickly takes off the block, showing the smiling, heart-shaped face of his fellow, former Gundam pilot.  He gives his friend a glowing smile as he sits at his desk in front of the phone.

"Love the hair!  Retro-chic, right?"  Duo wiggles his eyebrows, causing Quatre to blush while he runs a hand through his messy pillow hair.  Duo laughs at the sight.  "It's all right.  I've had worse hair on good hair-days," he says, pointing to his head, and sticks out his tongue.

"Duo…" a warning voice sounds from the background and a hand reaches out to pull on Duo's meter-long chestnut braid.

"Ow!  Okay, okay," Duo says to the side.  Facing back to Quatre, his face turns semi-serious.  "Heero says 'hi.'"  Another yank, "Ouch!  Stop that!"

Quatre stifles a giggle, hiding his smile behind his hand.  On the screen, he sees Duo suddenly pushed aside and another young man appears, this one with shining blue eyes, and dark, mussy hair falling over them.

"Quatre."

Quatre blinks once, a bit surprised at the man's appearance.  "Hello, Heero."  He gives a less than brilliant smile.

"You look… well," Heero gives a pause, noticing the blonde's ruffled appearance.

"Thank you.  I just woke up.  I had a long night."

"I heard.  Duo insisted on calling after we heard the announcement on the news last night."  Said American suddenly appears, popping up behind Heero, and places his arms about the Japanese man's shoulders with big grin on his face.

"So, who is she?  What's she look like?  Is she cute?  Does she have a sister?"  Duo's smile fades again.  "Does Trowa know?  You told him first, right?"  He and Heero listen intently for the Arabian's answer.

Quatre starts at the flurry of question, but looks away at the last two.  He doesn't answer.

"You haven't told him?"  Duo asks, amazed.  He receives no answer.

"When was the last time you talked to him?" Heero asks.

"A little over a month ago," Quatre says, still not looking at the screen.

"A month?!"  Duo stares, mouth agape, at his pale friend.  "Wh-why?!  I thought you called him, like, every day!  He can't have been gone all the time."  Silence.  "Why did you stop calling?"

The blond finally looks up, but won't meet his friends' eyes.  "I got tired.  Why should I be the only one making an effort?  Every time I called, I felt like I was intruding, interrupting his life somehow.  Can't he interrupt me once in a while?!"  Quatre's voice rises noticeably at the last part.

Rashid, still standing off to the side, observes his master sadly.  Quietly, he walks out of the room and closes the door behind him, careful not to make a sound.

Back in the room, no one is speaking.  Duo and Heero wait for Quatre to continue, but he only closes his eyes and sighs, putting his head down into his hands and covering his face.

Duo tries to get Quatre talking again and pastes on a desperate smile.  "Quatre, you know how Tro is.  He hates phones.  Hell, I hate phones.  But he-he's ten times more paranoid than any of us – even Perfect Soldier-boy, here.  Maybe if you asked him to visit, he'd-"

"I wouldn't want to bother him.  Besides, it's expensive to travel here from earth."

Duo's face falls at the distraught look on his friend's face.  He turns to whisper into Heero's ear, "Your turn."

Heero nods slightly and says, "He won't have to pay.  The circus is coming to the colonies, starting with L4."

Both Duo and Quatre, surprised, look at the Japanese man.

"Wha-?" Quatre starts, but Heero interrupts him.

"You should go.  Visit him."

Duo recovers from his shock.  "Y-yeah."  Giving his friend a devilish smirk, he continues, "See if Catherine has forgiven you yet; just avoid any places with sharp, throw-able objects.  I hear her aim is impeccable."  Duo winks, bringing out a small smile from the Arabian.  "There ya go!"

"Maybe I should invite Jenna.  I don't think she's ever been to a circus."

"Umm… yeah."  Duo frowns slightly.

"No," Heero states firmly.  "Don't involve her in this."

"She's already involved."

"You need to do this alone.  If you take your fiancée, you'll use her as an excuse not to say everything that needs to be said."

Quatre nods in understanding.  "You're right, Heero.  But, I'd rather not go alone."

"Then we will accompany you."

Duo starts bouncing.  "Really, Hee-chan?!  I thought you hated circuses."

"Hnn."

Duo smiles blindingly and kisses Heero on the cheek, surprising both of the other men.

"Maxwell," Heero warns menacingly.

"Sorry."  Duo looks back to Quatre.  "So, we'll see you then?"

"Yeah.  When are the shows?"

"I'll e-mail you the schedule," Heero says.

"Okay.  Bye, guys."

"Bye."

"Hnn."  Duo and Heero both smile (Heero a bit less than his companion), and Quatre answers with a small smile of his own.  The screen goes blank and Quatre turns off his vid-phone with a sigh.

There is a soft knock at the door and Rashid appears on the other side as it opens.  Quatre looks up tiredly, questioning with his eyes.

"Jenna is waiting downstairs."

"Oh!  I completely forgot!  Again!"  The pale blond quickly stands and rushes about, grabbing for his clothes - sometimes succeeding, sometimes dropping them to the floor - and rushes into the adjoining washroom to change.  The sound of cloth against skin can be heard from the door as the young man undresses and redresses.  Then a loud 'thunk' sounds, followed by a cry.  "Ow!  Damn it!"

Rashid rushes to the bathroom door, asking, "Master Quatre?  Are you all right in there?"

The door opens and Quatre steps out, head down with a hand held to his brow.  A soft, painful squeal escapes his lips as he walks to his bed in his oxford shirt and black silk boxers, dark-gray pants in tow, dragging on the floor behind him.  On his way to sit down, his feet, shuffling as they are, get caught in the sheets he neglected to pick up and he once again becomes victim to their wrath, falling flat on his face.  "Gah!"  Quatre whimpers softly as he lays there in humiliation.  "I'm having a bad day, Rashid.  Can I go back to bed?"  Teary blue eyes look up to a sympathetic face.  "Please?"

"The day can only get better," the large Arabian offers.

"Peh…" Quatre spits out. As he slowly picks himself up, growling at the sheets still wrapped around his feet, he lets his body fall onto the bed.  Bending his legs so that his feet are within arm's reach, he rips the offending sheets off of him and throws them to the opposite side of the room.  "I want those things burned," he says, eyes spitting fire at his tormentors.

"Master Quatre, Miss Jenna is still-"

"Yeah, yeah," Quatre mutters grumpily.  "She invited herself over here, she can wait."

"Actually, you-"

"Don't.  Say.  It," the blond orders edgily.  "I'll just slowly put my pants on, one leg at a time, sitting down so I don't trip.  I'll comb my hair patiently and gently so I don't inflict any puncture wounds on myself.  And then, I'll put some ice on my head to make this throbbing go away.  Just give me a few minutes.  Will you tell her that I'll be down shortly?"

"Of course.  Would you like me to get you some ice?"  Rashid asks warily.

Quatre plasters on a fake smile, but says nothing, staring at the single witness to his embarrassments with an eerie gleam in his eyes.

"Right…  I'll await you downstairs."  The large Arabian quickly exits the room, picking up the used tea tray on his way out.

Quatre continues to smile and watch the other man's back until the door is closed behind him.  Now alone, the blond lets the smile drop and his head falls into his hands.  He gasps as he unintentionally touches his injured forehead.  Still in his boxers, he stands up and looks closely at his reflection in the full-body mirror.  He leans forward to examine the gash above his left eye and gingerly touches it with his index finger.

"Oww…"  Quatre sighs deeply.  "This is what I get for rushing things."  He finishes dressing and combs his hair, pausing to scrutinize his appearance.  "I look awful."  Quickly running his hands through golden hair, the young Arabian walks out of his bedroom.  "Do you know what effect you have on me, Trowa?"

~+~+~

Meanwhile, at the circus…

"What?!" Trowa almost shouts in surprise.

"That's what the boss told me.  We're going to the colonies," Catherine states, holding her hands up in mock surrender.

"But Cathy, this is an earth circus.  The colonies have circuses of their own."

"Not traveling troupes like us.  Besides, we're supposed to be the best.  This is a really big thing – a terrestrial circus performing in space.  It'll be a first.  It's like we're pioneers or something."  The tall brunette gives his sister a skeptical look.  "All right, I know," Cathy continues, "You don't care for that sort of thing since you're already a war vet, but please don't ruin this for the others."  She looks up to her little brother, baby blues going puppy-dog style, bottom lip sticking out.

Trowa rolls his eyes and caves.  "Alright.  I'll keep my mouth shut."

Catherine gives him a bright smile.  "Thanks!  Not that you normally have a problem keeping quiet," she says, winking at him.  "Anyway, this gives you an excuse to visit your friends, right?"

"Mmm…"

"Boy, it shocked me to hear that Quatre's engaged.  I always thought, well, I thought he'd be the last one of you guys to get married off, but I suppose being in his position he'd be expected to marry quickly."

Trowa looks at her curiously.

"I mean, with the kind of money that kid has in his pockets, an heir would be desirable so that it all stays with the family, right?"

"I suppose," Trowa agrees.

Catherine looks up thoughtfully, saying, "I wonder who she is.  I'll bet she's gorgeous.  Famous, rich people's fiancées are always good-looking.  You saw Quatre.  Don't you think he's grown to be handsome?"

"He-Quatre was never bad-looking," Trowa argues, trying to defend the blond.

"Oh, I know, but he looked a bit effeminate with his big eyes, fair skin, and skinny body.  Now, he looks more mature."

"…"

Catherine eyes her brother closely and, noticing some discomfort, decides to segue into a different topic.  "Speaking of being mature, are you ready to stop milking your sickness and start rehearsing for our colony debut next week?"

"Yeah."  Trowa immediately heads toward a smaller tent.  "I'm going to check on the animals first."

"Wait!  Trowa, you know you shouldn't be around them when you're sick."

Trowa looks back at Catherine.  "It's fine, Cathy.  I won't touch them."  He starts walking toward the animal tent and calls behind him, "I'll meet you in the big top in half an hour."

Catherine stands still, watching him walk away, with concerned eyes.

~+~+~

In the animal tent…

Trowa sits with his legs straight out in front of him, his back against a large steel cage.  A lion lies in the cage behind the green-eyed brunette.  Trowa silently gazes up to the roof of the tent, letting his head fall back against a bar of the cage. 

"I don't understand why this is happening.  Just had to be the colonies," he thinks out loud.

The young man looks down at his hands, feeling along the lines of his palm with his index finger.  He turns around, still sitting, and gazes calmly at his silent companion.  "Do you know?  He's going to be there.  He'll want to talk.  Why does he keep wanting to talk to someone like me?"

The lion yawns and licks his chops, resting his head on his forepaws.  Trowa reaches into the cage and strokes the creature's thick mane.

"I know, I know.  I'm not exactly the most interesting person, am I?

The lion watches his caretaker coolly.  Trowa gives a small laugh, barely audible.  "You think I'm being pathetic."  His face goes stoic once again as he says, "I didn't want to hold him back, that's why I never called.  Now look where he is:  booming business, engaged to a nice girl.  It all proves that I was right."  Trowa stops petting his friend and pulls his hand out of the cage. "Practice time.  Enjoy your day off."

Trowa turns and walks out of the tent and goes into the big top where his sister waits for him.

~+~+~

Six days later…

Thursday evening, three young men lounge in a large and expensively furnished living room, watching TV – the news.

"Quat, can I have some snacks?"  Duo asks his host.

"You just ate, baka," Heero teases.

"I know that, Heeeero, but I'm craving something salty," Duo retorts.

"You're always craving something."  Heero gives Duo a soft version of his infamous Yuy-death-glare and an elbow in his side.

"And don't you forget it!"  Duo sticks his tongue out at his friend.

Quatre stifles a giggle behind his hands.  "You can have whatever you like Duo, but you'll have to get it yourself.  I gave the kitchen staff the weekend off."

"Oki Doki, Smokie."  Duo bounces out of his seat on the couch next to Heero and heads for the kitchen.  Right before he leaves the room, he turns and asks, "Do you guys want anything?"

"No."

"No, thank you."

"Alrighty."  Duo goes into the kitchen.

Quatre and Heero watch the news in silence - Heero on the couch, Quatre in a recliner next to him.  On TV, the weather report is showing:  perfect weather throughout the week.

"Another beautiful week," Quatre says, half to himself.

"Hnn."

"Back!"  Duo returns with several bags of chips and a 6-pack of root beer in his arms.

Quatre turns around and, seeing Duo's bundle, smiles weakly.  "Duo, I thought you only wanted a snack."

"That's right."

"Then why-"

"This is a snack for him," Heero says as Duo sits next to him, already munching on some Frito Twists.  "His stomach is a bottomless pit."

Quatre gives a small laugh, sits back into his chair, and stares idly at the TV.

Heero looks at Duo.

"What?" the American asks.

"Baka."  With that, Heero grabs the bag of Fritos from Duo's hand and starts eating himself.  Duo stares dumbly at Heero for a bit before recovering, and grabs a bag of regular potato chips and a can of root beer.  Sitting back on the sofa, he casually leans toward Heero, just enough before actually touching him.

"So, Quat, are we still on for the circus tomorrow?"  Duo looks seriously at his blond friend.

"Yeah.  I got first-row tickets for us and Rashid."

"Rashid?" Duo asks incredulously, "Quatre, we don't need a chaperone.  We're nineteen; we're adults now.

"Sorry, Duo, he insisted."

Heero glares suspiciously at Quatre.  "He wants Jenna to go with us.  He will drop out and insist we invite her."

Quatre turns angrily on the Japanese man.  "Don't say that, Heero!  You can't know that for sure."

"No, I am sure.  He knows your situation with Trowa.  He doesn't want you to jeopardize your relationship with Jenna because of it."

"Then he only wants what's best for me."

"Ah.  As do we," Heero reassures the blond.

"But you think I'm making a mistake?  Marrying her?" Quatre asks the Japanese man.

"No.  If you love her, then be with her, but you should have told Trowa."

"Mmm…"  Quatre looks down at his hands in his lap.

Duo, who has only listened to the conversation thus far, stands up and stretches his arms above his head and gives a big yawn.  "Well guys, I think it's about time we head out."

"I thought you were staying over," Quatre says.

"Oh, yeah.  I forgot," Duo replies sheepishly.  "In any case, I'm ready to turn in."

"But I though-" Quatre starts, but is interrupted.

"I'm kinda tired, Quat," Duo insists flatly.

"Oh.  Okay."  The Arabian stands, followed by Heero, and they all head upstairs where they separate into their respective rooms – Quatre into his private suite, and Heero and Duo into their shared suite across the hall.  Before closing their door, they all say goodnight.

Inside their room, Duo and Heero sit on one of the two queen-sized beds, side by side.

"I'm worried about tomorrow," Duo says.

"Ah."

"If Rashid really does bail, they won't get a chance to talk."

"Ah."

"If they don't talk, Quatre will always wonder about-"

"Ah."

Duo looks over at his friend.  "I don't suppose you have a plan."

"No."

"I guess it's up to me, then," Duo sighs.

"No.  We shouldn't interfere," Heero states.

"We already have."

"Not tomorrow.  Let's wait and see if everything works out first.  If not, we'll talk to Trowa later."

"So, you do have a plan."

"Not really."  Heero scoots back on the bed and lies down.

"But-"

"Go to bed, Duo."

"Yes, sir…"

~+~+~

The next day - Circus Day…

Trowa stands backstage in the big top, stretching and mentally preparing himself for his upcoming performance.  Roaring crowds and children's laughter can be heard in the background.

"Trowa."  Catherine walks up to the tall man.  "You ready?"

Trowa looks stone-faced at his sister and puts on his half-face mask.  "Yeah."

Brother and sister walk into the spotlight together where a large bulls-eye with arm straps waits.  The ringleader announces the pair and silence reigns as Trowa is strapped to the bulls-eye and Catherine steps back to take aim with her trusty throwing knives.

Catherine looks around the audience within her peripheral vision and smirks.  Suddenly, she reaches back and forward-releases a knife.  The deadly projectile pierces the Bulls-eye with a defined thud and a gasp from the audience, right below Trowa's right upper arm.  When the crowd realizes the thrower's success, they cheer.  The uproar only grows with each knife thrown until there are seven knives surrounding Trowa below the neck.  Catherine then pulls out three knives, holding them up for the crowd to see.  She waits for a confirming nod from Trowa.  He blinks once and she releases, hurling the sharp metallic weapons toward his head.  Two knives land on either side of his head, the third just above, effectively creating a Trowa-silhouette.  The brunette is then released from the straps and he steps back, standing slightly behind his sister and bowing gracefully.

After the third bow, Trowa looks up into the crowd and makes eye contact with the one person he was hoping wouldn't be there:  Quatre.

Catherine bows a fourth time, but Trowa only stand there, frozen in position, staring at his old friend.  She notices her brother's odd behavior and grabs his hand, leading him backstage, all the while waving to the crowd.

Once out of the audience's view, Catherine pulls her brother to the side and faces him, holding his shoulders in her hands.  "Trowa, what was that?"

"Quatre.  He's out there."

"Well, duh."

"He's going to want to talk to me after the show.  I have to go."

"Hang on!  You still have the high-wire act to go."

"Jimmy can do it."  Trowa starts to walk away, but Catherine grabs his arm.

"No!  Trowa, you can't just bail in the middle of a show!  Especially this one!"

"I've done it before."  He tries to get away again, but his sister stops him.

"This isn't the war anymore!  You don't have any good reason to leave now!"

"Yes, I do."

"Fear isn't a good reason!"

Trowa's eyes widen at his sister's remark and then narrow to angry slits.  "I am not afraid, Catherine!"

"Whatever you call it, Trowa!  You can't leave us hanging here just because you want to avoid talking to Quatre!  Now isn't the time to become a coward!  Not after everything you've been through."  Cathy's voice shrinks as she says the last part.

Trowa's eyes soften and he looks down at his feet.  "I'm sorry, Cathy.  I'll stay."

Catherine looks up, eyes teary and smiling.

~+~+~

In the crowd…

Quatre, Heero, and Duo sit watching dancing bears and prancing elephants.  An empty seat sits unused next to Quatre.

"You were so right, Heero.  Sorry I doubted you," Quatre concedes.

"Hnn."

"I can't believe he actually offered to call and invite her for you!" Duo exclaims.

"Rashid has never been this pushy before," Quatre admits.

"Well, Quat, when are you going to go back there?"

"He still has the tight rope act to go.  Then he's done, I believe.  Maybe after that?"

"Maybe?" Heero questions.

"Definitely?"

"Better."

"Man!  Dancing bears are lame!" Duo shouts.  A handful of popcorn hits him in the head from behind.  He turns around to find a little redheaded girl glaring at him, holding a small bucket of popcorn in her lap.  "Oi!  Was that you?" Duo asks, surprised.

"Yeah!  Wanna make somethin' of it?!" The girl dares, curly pigtails bouncing with excitement.

"What'd ya throw popcorn at me for?!" Duo exclaims, taken aback at the little girl's forwardness.

"Dancing bears are not lame!  You're just jealous 'cause they can dance better than you!"  The girl gives Duo a raspberry and proceeds to throw more popcorn at his face.

"Why you little-" Duo begins reaching for the girl, but Heero holds him back.

"Duo," Heero warns.

"Did you hear what she said to me?!  I'll show ya who's the better dancer, kid!"

Heero holds his braided friend back again.  "She's just a kid, and a little girl.  You can't beat her up."

At this, Duo half-turns toward the Japanese man and whispers, "I know, but at least hold me back like I'm going to."

Heero rolls his eyes, grabs Duo's braid and drags him outside, leaving an oblivious Quatre to watch Trowa's last act alone.

Outside the tent, Heero continues to pull on the American's hair and walks him up to a cotton candy booth.  He gives the vendor a couple of paper bills and takes two cones, shoving one into Duo's hand.  "Eat."

"Huh?"  Duo stares at Heero confusedly.  "Heero, I-"

"Eht," Heero says again, this time around a mouthful of sugar.

"Heero."  Duo grabs Heero's arm and pulls him behind a small tent.  "What's this for?" he asks, indicating his cotton candy.

Heero, having just taken another bite of his candy, turns big blue eyes on his friend, cotton hanging out of his mouth.  He tongues swipes out for the escaped candy, but misses, making it fall to his shirt.

Duo laughs and takes a step up to the Japanese man.  Blue eyes follow him closely as he picks the cotton candy off of Heero's shirt, puts it in his mouth, and licks his fingers.  "You complain about how much food I eat and how hyper I always am, and then you go and buy me a big wad of pure sugar."

"You ate some of my candy," Heero deadpans, taking a step forward.

"Wha-?"  Duo steps back.

"Off my shirt, you ate my candy."  Heero takes another step toward Duo.

"He-Heero.  Wait a sec."  Duo steps back again and then stops, eyes narrowed, and places a hand on his hip.  Pointing his cotton candy at Heero, he yells, "Don't change the subject!"

Heero recoils at his companion's outburst.

"So?  What's your answer?  Why the candy?" Duo demands.

"It got you to forget about the girl."

"Girl?"

"Exactly," Heero says, rolling his eyes.  "The one that threw popcorn at you."

"Oh, that girl."

"Hnn."  Heero looks down at his half-eaten cotton.

"Thanks…"  Duo picks at his candy with his fingers.

Heero looks up to the other man and frowns at the vulnerable gesture.  "I don't like you like this."

Duo looks up quickly at Heero's comment.  "Huh?"

"You're too quiet.  Eat your sugar and be happy like you usually are."

"What-I-I thought you hated when I-" Duo stares, mouth gaping, at the other man.  "I'm confused," he finally says, head dropping.

"Duo," Heero says softly, closing the gap between them, and rests his hands on the other man's shoulders.  "Eat your sugar.  Fill up the silence with your voice.  I like it that way."  Heero's cheeks redden.  "I like you that way."

Duo looks up again, wide violet eyes meeting blue.  "Really?"

"Ah."  A hand rises to touch Duo's cheek.  "Please."

Duo nods.  "Okay."

~+~+~

Back inside the big top…

Quatre sits alone and waits patiently for Trowa's last act.  In his lap, his hands fiddle with the plastic from his long-eaten licorice rope.

In center stage, six clowns climb back into their little yellow car as three gymnasts back flip onto the top of it and form a pyramid.  Quatre sighs.  The clown car drives off, pyramid and all, and the ringleader walks into the center spotlight onto a raised circular platform that is painted red and yellow in alternating triangle patterns.  He holds a microphone to his mouth and announces the next act, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!  Prepare to be amazed, alarmed, and… ENTERTAINED!!!  Cast your eyes over to our high, high, HIGH tightrope!  And watch as Trowa and Catherine perform their stunning stunts 50 feet in the air!"  The light surrounding the speaker goes out and he wipes his face with a plain, white handkerchief.

Spotlights of red, yellow, green, and blue flash around in the big top before one white light shines brightly on two people atop one of the tightrope platforms.  They smile and wave down at the audience.

Quatre, sitting relatively close to the area in which the tightrope stage stands, looks relieved at Trowa's smiling face, though he knows it is only for show, and hopes against hope that the tall performer will look his way… and smile for him alone.

"Trowa…"

On the platform, Trowa looks around the crowd and spots a blond haired, blue-eyed man gazing intently at him, but ignores the stare, determined to concentrate on his act.

Catherine lightly squeezes her brother's arm as a signal for him to start.

Calmly, with no balance aids, Trowa walks onto the rope, stopping toward the center, and does some fancy turns and jumps before pulling a few items out of his pocket:  a banana, an apple, a kiwi, and a grapefruit.  As he throws them up and begins to juggle them, there is a loud roar from the crowd.  The applause grows when he stands on one foot and bends his body, showing off his flexibility.  Once done, Trowa catches his fruit and throws them into the crowd, aiming the apple for a certain blond.  He walks to the other side and steps onto the platform opposite his sister.  Looking down, he sees that Quatre caught the apple and smiles to himself.

Catherine then begins her solo act, followed by her and Trowa's duet, done, to the horror of the audience, without the safety net below.  Once done, the safety is replaced and the duo jumps down gently into the net, bouncing up a couple of time before losing momentum.  They land sure-footed on the ground, waving to the crowd and taking their bows before going backstage to the rhythm of thunderous applause. 

Behind the curtains, Catherine gives Trowa a small hug and a kiss on the cheek.  "Wasn't that great?!  They loved us!" Catherine says with a big smile splitting her face.

"They loved the knife-throwing act, too, Cathy."  Trowa folds his arms across his chest and looks bored.  "That audience is the same as any we've performed for on earth."

Catherine's smile faults and she looks up at Trowa, anger flaring in her eyes.  "Tro!  You promised not to do this!"

Trowa hold up his hands in surrender.  "Sorry, sorry.  I'm gonna go check up on the animals.  Later, Cat."  He walks off, waving behind him.

"Wait, Trowa!  What about-" Catherine looks after her brother as he keeps walking away, and quietly add, "Quatre."

Catherine walks into her makeshift dressing room and changes into a short, white sweater and jeans.  She hangs up her costume and grabs the keys to her and Trowa's trailer.  Walking out, she decides to go by Trowa's dressing room to pick up his keys and street clothes, knowing that he'd rather change at home.  Going into the small room, Catherine slowly looks around, thinking about where Trowa might stash his things.

"A drawer would be too obvious… the closet, too."  Catherine stops in the middle of the room, one had on her hip, and the other scratching her head in wonder.  "Hmm…"  She snoops around a bit more, rummaging through the various costumes and checking behind boxes.  "I don't have time for this.  Let 'im get his own things."  She goes to leave, but stops in front of the mirror, giving herself a wink and a thumb's up, "Lookin' good, kid."  Rolling her eyes, she adds, "Look at me – talking to myself."

As she walks out the door of the small dressing room, Catherine spots a fair-haired young man looking around, obviously lost.  She walks up behind him and reaches a hand up to tap his shoulder, but before she can touch him, he turns quickly to face her, hands in a defensive position and brows furrowed over burning eyes.  Immediately, the fire is gone as the man recognizes her, hands going down to his sides.

"Catherine!" Quatre exclaims with a look of surprise.

Catherine looks surprised herself, but recovers swiftly, putting on her best smile.  "Hi, Quatre!  What are you doing back here?  Are you lost?"

"No, no.  Umm…" Quatre looks behind him and quickly turns back.  "I'm–ah–I'm looking for Trowa," he says, looking at the woman shyly.

"Oh, he's not here.  He went to visit his friends."  Catherine scoots closer to the blond and whispers behind her hand into his ear, "The animals."  She gives Quatre a meaningful nod.

"Alright," he says, smiling, "do you think, I mean, would he mind-"

"Come on, Sunshine.  I'll lead the way."  Catherine brushes past the blond, grabbing his arm on her way.  He trips a bit at first while she pulls him, but matches her stride after a few steps.  "You know, it's been a while since you last called.  Are you mad at me?"

Quatre's head shoots up from its downward gaze.  "No, of course not!"

"Alright," Catherine says calmly.  "Is it Trowa?"

"Oh, no… no."

"'Cause I can imagine how frustrating it might be to have to make all the effort in a relationship.  Even if it is just friendship."

Quatre looks back down, allowing himself to be led by the woman on his arm.

"I'm sorry he didn't call, Quatre.  He would say that he would and then make excuses later.  I think he just didn't want to interrupt your life, your business."

"It's okay, Catherine.  I can see how calling someone could be difficult for him."

"He isn't paranoid… or all that shy.  Don't give him that excuse."

"If he hadn't avoided talking to me, I may never have met my fiancée."

Catherine's eyes widen at the sudden mention of his engagement.  "Your fiancée?  That's right!  I was with Trowa when the announcement was on the news during your interview.  So, who is she?  Is she pretty?  Smart?  Funny?  A good cook?"

Quatre give a small chuckle at the last query.  "All of the above, although, I doubt the last is very relevant."

"Oh, please!  Even rich people's cooks need days off."

"I suppose," Quatre says, looking thoughtful.

At his remark, Catherine stops and turns toward him.  "What, you don't give your cooks vacations?"

"Of course I do!" Quatre says defensively.  "Just this weekend, I did."

"Okay."  They continue walking.  "So how's it going?"

"I'm living off of microwave popcorn and M&M's," Quatre says, laughing with his walking partner.  Suddenly, he stops walking and looks around, seeing some oddly familiar tents.  "Weren't we just here?"

"Hmm?  Oh, yeah.  We've been walking in circles the whole time."

"What?!  Why?" Quatre asks, mouth agape.  He pulls away from the woman as she smiles.

"So that we could talk.  The animal tent is just over there," she says, pointing to a smaller, plain canvas tent toward the edge of the circus.

Quatre regards her skeptically.

She laughs, "Honestly!  He should be in there."

"Oh."

"Come on," Catherine says, latching onto his arm again, "I'll walk you."

~+~+~

Meanwhile…

While Catherine was leading Quatre in circles, Trowa was visiting with the various animals of the circus.

Now, Trowa kneels down in front of a small wooden cage resembling a crate.  Inside, straw covers the floor and a small dish sits in the corner, filled halfway with water.

"Where are you?" Trowa says, half to himself, half to the animal that vacated its shabby home at some point during the day.  Trowa stands up and looks around.  Not seeing what he is looking for, he walks over to the lion's cage.  Inside, the lion lays, lifting his head as he watches the tall brunette with curiosity.  Trowa stops right in front of the regal creature and places his hands around two bars, looking intently into big, black eyes.

"Have you seen the Little One?"  Trowa pauses, watching the lion's reactions to his calm voice – nothing.  "She got out again."  He lets go of the bars and turns to look around the tent again.  When he turns back to the lion, he finds him standing right behind him, face practically touching the bars that separate the two of them.  Trowa narrows his eyes.  "Where is she?"  The lion shakes his head.  "Do you know where she is?  Is she with you?"  The lion lifts a paw and slides it down one of the bars.  "You didn't eat her, did you?"  A paw goes up to the lion's face and his eyes close tightly in frustration.  Trowa sighs and reaches a hand through the cage bars to stroke the lion's soft, golden brown mane.  "I'll go look around the tent outside."  The lion lays back down as Trowa leaves, and yawns.

Just as Trowa walks out, Catherine and Quatre walk in through the opposite entrance.  They walk past the lion's cage and look around.

"Huh.  I wonder where he went," Catherine says, puzzled.

"Maybe he didn't come in here," Quatre offers.

"No, he told me he was going to, and he usually stays in here for at least an hour," Catherine insists and looks around again.  "Trowa?"

"Well, I guess I'll try some other time.  I need to find Heero and Duo anyway," Quatre says, starting for the exit.

"Don't leave yet!  Heero and Duo are here, too?"  Catherine grabs the Arabian's arm.  "I'll go find him and bring him here.  You just wait here with the animals."  She releases Quatre's arm and goes out the opposite way they had come in.

Quatre sighs and looks around, eyes resting on the lion that had been watching the new visitors with amusement.  Quatre walks up to the cage and places his hands on the very same bars Trowa had held only a few minutes earlier.  The two stay quiet for about a minute until Quatre breaks the silence.

"You look like you know something.  Do you know where Trowa is?"  Nothing.  Quatre sighs again, letting go of the bars.  As he is about to walk around the tent, he notices a thing of snowy white at his feet.  The bundle shifts a bit and rests on top of Quatre's patent brown-leather shoes.  The Arabian tries shifting his feet to nudge the small animal off of him, but it doesn't budge.  He groans.

"I don't want Trowa to see me like this."  At the mention of the tall man, the white ball of fluff uncurls and stands, looking up at the pale blond.  Dark brown eyes meet sea-blue.  Quatre gasps and slowly kneels down.

"A lamb?  I had no idea."  His hand gently grazes the lamb's head.  "What are you doing out of your cage?  Where is your cage?"  Quatre looks around the tent and sees the small, empty, wooden cage.  "Oh.  I can understand your wanting to get out," he comments, looking back down.  Stroking the lamb's back, Quatre slowly stands and, watching that he doesn't step on any other small animals, walks over to he small cage.  He gets down on his hands and knees and peers inside.  He opens the door to the crate-looking box and reaches into it, grabbing the small bowl of water.  He then sets the bowl down outside the cage next to him, coaxing the lamb to the water.  Quatre sits down on the dirty floor, legs crossed in front of him, watching to see if the lamb will come over.  Eventually, the small animal inches forward and drinks some water.  After she finishes, the lamb walks up to the blond and licks his hand.  Quatre smiles sweetly and runs his hand over young, white wool.  When he senses that the lamb is comfortable with him, he picks her up and holds her against him, her legs folded neatly in his lap.  The lamb closes her eyes as Quatre gently pets her.

"So, what's your name, little lamb?  Did Trowa name you?"  He receives no answer, but continues chatting idly.  "You look like a snowball to me.  Do you mind if I call you by a different name?  Maybe Snow or Snowflake.  Whitey.  Snowy… Snow White."  Quatre starts giggling softly at his last suggestion.  The lamb looks up at the new sound, and Quatre looks down at her.  "What do you think?  Snow?"  He gets two blinks as a response.  "Snowball?"  The lamb blinks again.  "I'm kind of partial to Snowflake myself."  He smiles at the lamb and receives a soft bleat for an answer.  "You like that one?"  The small animal rubs the side of her head against Quatre's chest and closes her eyes again.  "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

As Quatre continues his attentions on the lamb, Trowa walks back into the small tent, looking defeated.  He sighs to himself and prepares to search the area inside the tent more thoroughly.  Passing the lion's cage, Trowa heads for the small wooden cage and is surprised to find a young blond holding another, younger blonde.

At the sound of footsteps, Quatre looks up and gasps as his eyes meet emerald.  Trowa speaks first.  "Quatre…"  Unable to say anymore, the brunette stands, staring in silent shock.

"Trowa."  Quatre's face flushes and he looks back down at his armful, continuing to stroke soft white.  "Catherine said you would be here.  I've been looking for you since your last performance."

Trowa continues to stare until he finds his voice.  "How long?"

"Not long.  It doesn't matter, anyway.  I've had some company," Quatre says, looking pointedly at the lamb.

Trowa casts his gaze onto the small, white bundle in the Arabian's arms and his eyes widen as he finally realizes what it is.  "Little One…"

Quatre's head snaps up, surprised at the familiar endearment.  "You haven't call-" He stops as he realizes that the taller man's gaze is still resting on the now sleeping animal he holds.  "Oh.  Is that her name?"

"I'm not good with names.  It seemed appropriate."  Green eyes meet blue.  "How did you get her to let you hold her?"

"She came to me.  She was practically taking a nap on my feet when I saw her."

Trowa slowly approaches, watching the blondes for any signs of distress.  "I haven't been able to get near her since she arrived.  She cries out if anyone touches or tries to hold her."  Trowa kneels down in front of the other man, an elbow on one knee, the hand of the opposite arm touching the ground.  "Perhaps she was waiting for a kindred spirit."

At this, Quatre looks up, glaring at his old friend.  "I'm not a lamb, Trowa.  Nothing like one, at all," he states firmly.

"I didn't mean-" Trowa stops, unsure of how to continue.  "I know.  You're not so innocent, but you're gentle and kind.  That's all."

Quatre's eyebrows furrow as he looks down and to the side, not wanting to unconsciously liken himself to the lamb by looking at it.  Without raising his eyes, he says, "Why, Trowa?  You can talk to me so easily now, but you won't even bother to call me when we're apart?  Did I-" He pauses, his voice shaking slightly.  "Are you upset with me?"  Quatre looks up into the other man's eyes.  "Do you not want to talk to me?"

Trowa blinks several times, taken by surprise at Quatre's questions.  "No, Quatre.  I-Yes, I want to talk to you.  I'm not angry with you."  He closes his eyes and breathes deeply.  "I watch you on the news almost every day.  How you're so busy with… everything.  I'm sorry.  I never meant for you to feel bad.  I just didn't want to interrupt-"

"Neither did I.  But, you should have.  I wanted you to… I hoped you would."  Both men look down, eyes resting on the lamb in Quatre's arms.

"I saw the announcement."

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Congratulations."

Quatre looks back at the brunette, but doesn't say anything and lowers his eyes once again.

Trowa watches the blond closely.  "Are you happy?"

"Yes," Quatre replies quickly.

"She must be wonderful."

"Yes."  Another quick answer.

"You love her?"

"…"  Quatre doesn't answer and won't meet Trowa's questioning gaze.

"Why are you marrying her if-"

"I love her."

Trowa's lips part slightly and his eyes dull sadly.

"Did you come alone?"

"No. Duo and Heero are here, too.  Thank you for the apple, by the way."

Trowa smiles softly and says, "I figured you might need something to help all the licorice go down."

Quatre finally looks up.  "How did you-"

"I know people," Trowa says simply, giving he companion a gentle smile.

Quatre can't help but smile back, making his face shine.  "I miss you," the Arabian confesses, his smile fading a little.

Trowa meets his eyes sadly.  "You should go."

Quatre's face drops.  "Trowa, I-"

"Plan your wedding."  Trowa stands and turns away from his friend.

Quatre, forced to stay sitting due to his fluffy white burden, looks up desperately at the tall man's broad, muscular back.  "Trowa…"

"What's her name?" Trowa asks, still facing away.

"Jenna."

Trowa turns around and looks at Quatre in confusion.  "Is that a good name for a lamb?"

"What?"  The blond looks lost for a moment.  "Oh, no.  I mean-I thought-"

"I know, but I assumed that you had thought of a name for her," Trowa says nodding at the lamb.

"I… She's not mine to name."

"It's alright.  Tell me," Trowa says gently.

Quatre hesitates before softly saying, "She seems to like the name Snowflake."  At Trowa's unresponsiveness to his suggestion, he quickly adds, "I know it seems silly and typical of-"

"It's perfect."

Quatre's mouth opens slightly as he gazes at his friend in wonder.  Coming back to himself, he looks down at the slumbering lamb and says, "I think it's time to put her inside her cage."  He carefully turns his body and gently lays her inside the wooden prison.  "Did you make the cage yourself?" Quatre asks while standing.

"No, but once I can get a hold of the right materials, I'll put a new, bigger one together.  Somehow, she keeps getting out of this one and sneaks off all the time."

"Maybe she won't mind a bigger home."  Quatre looks warmly on the small lamb before shifting his gaze up to his tall friend.  "I should go.  This was nice – talking again.  I'll call later, maybe tomorrow."

As Quatre walks by, Trowa notices something.  "You're taller than I remember."  This causes the blond to stop and turn back.

"Huh?  Yeah, a few inches."  Quatre looks up, thinking.  "Five inches, I think."

Trowa walks up to face Quatre.  "Three, here."

Quatre smiles and winks.  "I'll catch up to you yet."

"I hope not.  You're perfect this way."

The two young men stare at each other for a bit before both realize what effect the innocent confession had on them.  They both look down, cheeks reddened.

"Th-thank you."  Overwhelmed by the intense emotion of the moment, Quatre quickly turns away, face still stained pink.

"Quatre-"  Trowa holds out his hand as if reaching to touch the other man.

"Can I come back?  Visit Snowflake… and you?" Quatre adds the last part in a half-whisper.

"Of course.  We're here until the end of next week."

"Okay.  Bye, Trowa."  Quatre begins to walk toward one of the exits, but stops, turns, and steps quickly up to his friend, throwing his arms around a his neck.  His forward gesture is immediately answered with two strong arms wrapping around his waist, pressing lean muscle against lean muscle.

Trowa buries his face into Quatre's graceful neck as Quatre rubs his cheek in Trowa's soft brown hair.  As Trowa's head shifts, the blond lifts his own, burying it to rest on the taller man's shoulder, arms falling to rest on a firm chest, elbows wedged between their two bodies.

"Little One…"  Trowa inclines his head more toward Quatre's, pressing his lips onto the blonde's temple, and then on his cheek.

Quatre's mouth parts as he closes his eyes, waiting.

Breaths quicken and handfuls of clothing tighten as the two men inch closer, faces lowering and raising as if magnetically drawn together.

"Trowa," Quatre breathes, almost into Trowa's mouth, as their lips are about to meet.

Just then, Catherine walks in.  "Quatre, I couldn't find my bro-" she starts, but quickly notices the presence of her kin, and the close proximity of the two men.  "Oh, my…"  Her hands go up to her mouth in shock.

Quatre, noticing Catherine's presence first, tries to pull away from Trowa, who doesn't let go fast enough, causing the blond to bounce back into his chest.

"Ca-Catherine!"

At Quatre's exclamation, Trowa looks to the side and sees his sister standing there, wide-eyed and frozen.  He quickly releases his hold on the other man, but can do nothing other than stand in one place, still with embarrassment… or shame.

Quatre looks worriedly at Catherine and tries to distract her from the present situation.  "He found me.  You were right about staying put." 

No response.

Catherine continues to watch her brother.

Quatre looks to Trowa who is still frozen.  "Perhaps I should go."  He walks to the exit with no one trying to stop him.  He looks back at the siblings and frowns.  As he leaves, Quatre mutters to himself, "This is all my fault."

Oblivious to the exiting blond, the brother and sister continue to stare at each other, neither one chancing a move.  Eventually, Catherine, worn from shock, falls to her knees and sits on her heels.  At her fall, Trowa's brotherly instincts come into play and he rushes forward, kneeling in front of the woman and placing his strong hands on her slumped shoulders to keep her from falling over.

"Cathy, I-" Trowa starts, but is cut off by his sister.

"I always suspected," Catherine says, looking straight ahead, "that you-you might have feelings for him."

Trowa doesn't say anything, but continues to watch his sister, looking for any signs of further distress.

"But, Tro… he's engaged."  Catherine's eyes look wide and worried at her brother.  Silence falls over them and Trowa stands.

"I know," Trowa says quietly, "but I can't help how…" He stops mid-sentence and looks around.  "I have to go find him."  The young man walks out of the small tent, leaving his sister on the dirty ground alone.

~+~+~

Outside…

Standing right outside the main entrance of the circus, Duo and Heero wait quietly for their friend.  Duo starts fidgeting and paces in a small circle, not noticing a pair of bright cobalt-blue eyes following his repetitive motion.  His patience finally runs out and he turns on his Japanese companion.  "I'm bored!"

"Hnn."

Getting no other response, Duo finds a new passion for pacing and does it in a fury.  Once again, he has a silent audience, but with his new speed, patience wears thin on the other side.  A hand reaches out at breakneck speed and latches onto the chestnut tail that had been swinging wildly with its owner's rapid movement, effectively stopping the braid and the man connected.

"Ow!"  Duo recoils at the annoyingly painful tug on the back of his head.  He whirls around and scrutinizes the bored, yet guilty look on his friend's face.  Narrowed eyes and furrowed brows lean forward into the other man's space, but get no reaction.

Heero fights to avoid eye contact, but finds it extremely difficult with that heart-shaped face so close.  He gives in and turns burning blues onto the American.  Expecting Duo to react and stand back, Heero is surprised to find bright indigo burning right back.  His eyes widen and he steps back.

Duo smirks at the other man's reaction, but chooses not to gloat for fear of the wrath of a Yuy scorned.  He looks into the circus entrance, trying to see if his blond friend is on his way out.  He sees only strange faces.  Hands on his hips, he asks Heero behind him, "Do you think he's okay?"

Heero nods silently, still holding Duo's braid.

Duo sighs loudly and crosses his arms over his chest.  "What's taking so long?!"  Anther tug on his braid causes him to turn around and look at his hair's captor.  Duo opens his mouth, about to yell at the Japanese man, but shops when he sees the look in Heero's eyes:  a smile.

"Baka."

"Is that all you have to say?" Duo says indignantly.  "This is your fault – giving me all that sugar and then being extraordinarily nice today.  And!  It's your fault that we have to wait for forever out here.  We could've played at least ten more booth games and he still wouldn't be out here!"

"You worry too much."

"Who's worried?" Duo asks, nose in the air.

"He can handle this himself."

"I'm not worried."

"I know you wanted to go with him."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Duo."

"You're wrong."

"Duo."

"This is me not being worried."  Duo forces a yawn.  "See?  Purely bored."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not.  I am bored."

Heero places a hand on the American's shoulder and pulls him into a one-armed hug.

Duo tries to pull away, but forgets just how strong the ex-pilot is.  "Heero, I'm not-"

The embrace tightens and Duo's face is buried into a long neck.  At first, Duo tenses, but after a minute or so, he relaxes into his friend and wraps his own arm around Heero's slender waist.  They stay this way for a couple of minutes – one arm slung around the other, the free arm at their respective sides.

Duo is the first to pull away, but doesn't get far as Heero's hand rests on the back of his neck and keeps him only a breath away.  They look at each other, resting forehead against forehead and Duo breaths deeply.  "I smell strawberries."

"Ah."

"It's nice."

"It's from a free soap sample I got in the mail."

"Mmm… You should buy some more."

"Alright."  Heero pulls away an inch and gazes deeply into warm violet.  "Are you worried?" he asks gently.

"Yes," Duo breathes.

"Me, too," Heero whispers as he leans forward, only slightly, and presses his lips softly onto Duo's mouth.  Eyes stay open only as long as truth looks back, but as long lashes flutter and close, cobalt is hidden soon after.  Heero's hand releases its grip on Duo's neck and slides down his shoulders to rest on his lower back, pressing their bodies together firmly as the kiss deepens.

Duo's hands find their way around Heero's neck, one feeling through messy brown hair.  He sighs into Heero's mouth and tilts his head for a better angle, opening his mouth to invite his friend inside.  Heero accepts.

Too soon, the moment ends, and two reluctant young men pull away from each other, not daring to release the holds their gazes have on one another.  Their arms, still wrapped desperately in a half-embrace, loosen their hold, but don't drop.

Duo leans forward again, intent on being the instigator of their second kiss, but is interrupted by a light, tenor voice calling his name.  Immediately, the young men squeeze some empty space between them.

"Duo!  Heero!" Quatre yells.  He jogs up to his friends.  "Sorry it took so long.  Trowa can be hard to find when he wants to be."  He smiles warmly, receiving a nod and a smile in return.

"So, how'd it go?" Duo asks, cheeks still a little pink.

"Fine.  He said I can visit him here anytime through next week."

"Cool.  Well, I'm ready to go.  How 'bout you guys?"

"No."

Duo and Quatre turn confusedly to Heero.

"What?  Why?" Duo asks.  He looks right into the Japanese man's eyes and his blush comes back full force, making him turn his gaze downward.

Quatre sees Duo's reaction and takes advantage, "Duo?  What's wrong?"

"Do not distract us from the topic at hand," Heero states firmly.

Quatre looks wide-eyed at his friend.  "What?  Heero, I was just-"

"Don't lie, Quatre.  It doesn't suit you."

At the pointed accusation, Quatre's eyes drop and his face pales.  "What do you want to know, Heero?" Quatre asks quietly.

"What really happened with Trowa?"

"Nothing," Quatre replies quickly.

"It didn't go well?"

"Everything went fine.  We talked, we laughed, we schmoozed; we even made out like rabid dogs.  Are you happy now?!"

Heero and Duo are surprised by their friend's outburst, and the American can't help but laugh, surprising Quatre in turn.

"D-Duo?"

"A-ha!  I-I'm sorry, Quat!"  Duo laughs some more, "But-but the thought of you making out with anyone, period, is almost too much!"  His laughter dies down and he continues at his companions' silence.  "I mean, that's not to say that you wouldn't, or haven't, kissed someone, but Trowa?"

"Why?  Because he is a man?" Heero asks, eliciting a shocked look from the braided man.

"No!  I don't care about that!  It's just… they'd both wait for the other to make the first move, which would never happen 'cause they'd both be waiting."

Quatre stays silent through the entire exchange, seemingly admiring his patent, brown-leather shoes.  Finally, he decides to speak up.  "I'm tired of waiting."

Duo and Heero turn to their downcast friend, but say nothing.

At their silence, Quatre lifts his gaze and continues, "We almost kissed, but Catherine walked in.  I completely forgot about my life, my career, my… fiancée – everything!  For sixty seconds, I put my entire life aside just so that I could kiss someone who didn't even what to speak to me!"  Quatre's hands rise to cover his face, slightly muffling his next statement, "What's wrong with me?"  He receives no answer and takes the silence as an indication that there is, in fact, something wrong with him.  "I want to go home."

He turns back to his two friends and is surprised to see a third.  Emerald freezes him.  "Trowa."

"I'm sorry.  It shouldn't be this hard, and I'm only adding to the difficulty.  Do what makes you happy, Quatre.  There's nothing wrong with that."  Trowa walks back into the circus.  Quatre watches him sadly, shoulders heavy and slumped with guilt and worry.

Heero and Duo remain silent.  Duo walks up behind the blond, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

Quatre turns and looks into his friend's eyes, pleading, "Don't pity me, Duo.  Please."  He takes a deep breath and walks toward the transit station to catch the next shuttle home… alone.

~+~+~

The next week passes uneventfully.  Quatre doesn't go to visit Trowa or Snowflake at the circus, and puts more effort into avoiding his friends than anything else.

It is Friday afternoon and Quatre is sitting at his desk in the main office of his estate.  Papers are strewn over the cherry-wood surface, along with several broken pencils and a leaky pen.  The news is showing, muted, on the television in a corner of the room, and the curtains are drawn only half way so as to minimize the glare on the screen.  The blond Arabian sits completely still, hand clenched around a partly wadded piece of paper, and stares at nothing.  His other hand is fisted around one of many broken pencils, holding both pieces in a sort of "V" shape.  He had long ago held the end of the pencil to his mouth and is still gnawing on the now chewy eraser, a drop of saliva threatening to spill down his chin.

The door to the office opens, startling the dazed man, and Rashid walks in with a tea tray.

Quatre continues to sit silently, although the pencil has been dropped under his desk.  The drool finds its way down the oblivious blonde's chin.

"Master Quatre, I have your tea," Rashid announces, coughing once to cover a small chuckle at Quatre's expense.  "Uh…  Would you like me to pour it for you?"

Quatre glares at the large Arabian.  "No."  With that, he looks back into oblivion and ignores the exit of his friend.

Rashid walks out of the office, closes the door behind him, and sighs.  A loud knock at the main doors evokes his attention, allowing him a moment to forget his concern for Quatre.  Rashid goes to the large double doors and opens them, revealing two smaller men whom he recognizes as friends.

"Hey, Rashid!" Duo says cheerfully, "Is Quatre around?"

"Master Quatre is in the main office, but-" Rashid pauses, not wanting to reveal the blonde's current state.  "He-he's busy."  He receives two suspicious glares, but doesn't betray his calm demeanor.

Heero steps forward ominously, but is blocked by the Arabian, and scowls.  "You are in my way."

The side of Rashid's mouth twitches up and he replies, "I don't think he wants visitors right now."

"You don't think?" Heero rebuts, "He always welcomes us.  What's wrong?"  He glares at the tall man.

"What's going on?"

The arguing trio quickly turns toward the source of the new voice.  Duo speaks up first, "Quat!  Are you okay?"  He grabs the blond by the shoulders and gives him a once-over.

"What are you-" Quatre starts.  "Duo, I'm fine!"  He pulls away and gives the American his best glare, but his flushed face ruins the effect.

Duo starts laughing, holding his stomach with a hand and bends over.

"Duo, what-"

The braided man suddenly stands upright, still laughing, and tries to talk, "I-I'm s-sorry, man!  It-It's just that you have a line of drool hangin' down your chin!"  He laughs even harder and rests a hand on Heero's shoulder to keep from falling over.

Quatre quickly wipes at his chin with the handkerchief from his back pocket.  His grip on the linen tightens at Duo's continued laughter and its perfect whiteness is stained red.  Heero is the first to notice the blood.

"Quatre, you're bleeding."

"Huh?"

The Japanese man points to his hand and walks up to the blond, examining the wound.  Carefully, he loosens the smaller man's hold on the cloth, extracts it, and lets it drop to the floor.  He looks closely at the palm and states, "There are small pieces of wood embedded in your skin.  Do you have a pair of tweezers?"

"Y-yeah.  In the kitchen," Quatre replies, peering at his hand with squinted eyes.

Heero leaves the front parlor to go to the kitchen, followed by the wounded man and two on-lookers.  He asks the cook where he can find the tweezers and retrieves them from a drawer next to the sink.  Heero directs Quatre to sit at the table with his palm up, and proceeds to extract the splinters from his hand.  The blond winces a couple of times, but otherwise shows no sign of discomfort.  Once finished, Duo helps to clean and bandage the wound.  All of this is done in silence.  As soon as he is satisfied with Quatre's well being, Rashid leaves the three young men alone, directing the cook to do the same.

Quatre, Heero, and Duo sit quietly at one end of the six-seated dinner table, the first not meeting the others' eyes.  He gently runs his finger along the nice bandage job and sighs.  "Thank you," Quatre says quietly.

"Hnn."

"Listen Quat, sorry for laughing earlier, it's just-"

"It's alright, Duo," Quatre interrupts.  "It isn't your fault I'm this tense.  Actually, I'm glad you guys came.  Jenna is visiting again today."

"Jenna?" Duo asks.

"She's been over almost everyday this past week.  She tries to keep me involved in planning the wedding.  We set a date yesterday."

"You're still going through with it?  What about Tro-"

"What about him, Duo?"

"I just thought that with what happened last week, you'd put it off a bit."

"It's set for two weeks from now."

"Two weeks?!"

"I-I wanted to ask if you guys would be my groom's men."  Quatre looks up hopefully at his friends.

"Of course," Heero says without hesitation.

Duo looks between the other two and throws up his hands in frustration.  "No!  I won't.  I can't.  It wouldn't be right."

Heero glares, and Quatre looks dejected.

"I wanna be the best man," Duo says with a wink, making Quatre smile in relief.  He gives Heero a cocky look and turns back to the blond.  "So… can I?"

Quatre lets out a small laugh and says, "I guess, but I was hoping to ask Trowa first."  The two other men look blankly at him and say nothing.

Finally, Heero speaks, "Quatre, are you sure?  With what happened last week, he may not feel comfortable playing a role in your wedding."

"It's all I can think of.  Other than the subject of the wedding, I have nothing to say to him.  If I don't try, I may never see him again."  Quatre looks down again and plays with a loose piece of gauze left on the table.

"Man, I don't get the two of you," Duo says, "One minute, you're all happy together, and the next you aren't speaking to each other and you're both depressed.  I swear, it's Trowa you should be-"

Before Duo can finish, the doorbell rings and Rashid escorts a young lady into the kitchen where the three men are speaking.  The woman has bright green eyes, fair skin, and dark, raven hair draping straight, halfway down her back.  She is wearing a modest flower-print dress that hangs just below her knees and clings perfectly to her slim figure.  As she walks, her feathery hair sways gently around her shoulders.  She smiles sweetly at her fiancé, not seeming to notice his other company.  Rashid politely announces the new arrival.

"Master Quatre, Jenna wishes to continue with your plans."

"Thank you, Rashid," Quatre says while standing to greet the girl.  Rashid bows lightly and leaves the room.  Quatre walks up to Jenna, takes her hands in his, and kisses her lightly on the cheek, which she shyly returns.  "It's nice to see you again, Jenna."

"You, too, Quatre," Jenna says in a light, airy voice.

Duo and Heero watch, stunned and silent, but the first can only stay quiet for so long.  Standing, the two young men take one step forward as Duo politely clears his throat.  Upon the sound, Quatre turns.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  Guys, this is Jenna.  Jenna, these are my friends Duo and Heero."  Quatre indicates each with his hand and leads the girl forward so there is less distance between the four of them.

"Nice to meet'cha, Jen," Duo says, holding his hand out to the pretty woman.  She takes it and shakes his hand brightly.

"You, too.  You must be Duo."

"How'd ya guess?  Was it my deep voice, or maybe my glowing personality?"

"Um, actually, it was the braid, but those other things are nice, too!"

Duo laughs lightly and says, "Sure, sure.  Thanks."

Heero then steps forward toward Jenna and nods shortly, saying, "I am Heero.  It is a pleasure to meet you."

Jenna smiles politely and nods back.  "You both are just as Quatre described," she says and turns to the blond, "but what about the other pilots?  Weren't there five of you?"

"Uh, yeah," Quatre starts, "but we're the only ones who have really kept in contact since the end of the wars."

"I thought you said that one other was to be a part of the ceremony."

"Things didn't go as well with him as I had hoped," Quatre confesses, eyes dulling a little, but not enough for the girl to notice.

"Oh, well, maybe you should try again," Jenna suggests.

"Yeah, Quat!" Duo jumps in.  "Didn't you say that you wanted another chance to talk to him?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then you should go," interrupts Jenna.  "I know how important your friends are to you, especially the one with… green eyes?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe we could forgo our planning for today and go visit him?  Does he live nearby?"

"This is the last day the circus is here," Heero informs the group.  "If you wish to speak with Trowa in person, it should be done today."

Heero, Duo, and Jenna each look at Quatre expectantly.  The Arabian can only nod and is pulled outside and into an old, beat up truck that reeks of gasoline.  He and Jenna start coughing at the stench and cover their noses and mouths.

"Sorry 'bout the smell, guys," Duo says apologetically.  "I bought this hunk-a-junk just a couple days ago.  It's gross right now, but just wait 'til I'm done with her."

"Duo, perhaps they should ride in the back so they can breath."

"Uh, sure, Heero.  You two wanna ride in the back?" Duo asks Quatre and Jenna.  Heero looks back at them to watch for their response.

"Only if Heero has learned how to drive like a sane person," Quatre jokes.  Jenna's head snaps to attention at the comment, fear showing clearly in her eyes.

"It's okay, Jen," Duo reassures her, "Quat's just kidding.  Heero's a great driver.  A safety wiz!"  He pats Heero's arm, letting his fingers linger slightly on the smooth skin.  Heero's eyes meet his for just a moment before he realizes where they are and pulls his hand away like he has been burned.

Quatre notices his friends' strange behavior, but doesn't say anything.  "Jenna, why don't we go sit in the back," Quatre offers.

"Alright," Jenna answers doubtfully.

The fiancées all but fall out of the truck cabin and climb into the back.

"Well, at least it's clean," Quatre says.

Jenna doesn't answer, but smiles, close-mouthed, and looks around.

Heero starts the engine and the bulky machine rumbles a bit, some black smoke rolling out of the tailpipe.  With a heavy lurch, the truck is set into motion, as are the passengers.  Falling over from their sitting positions and rolling against each other, Quatre and Jenna struggle to regain their dignity and finally manage to sit with their backs to the cabin wall and their legs straight out in front of them.

Nothing is said for several minutes until Jenna speaks up, "So, tell me about his other boy; the one we're going to see.  He lives with a circus?"

"Yes.  Trowa is an animal trainer and acrobat.  He's very talented and performs acts with his older sister, Catherine."

"Sister?  I thought he was an orphan."

"He is, but they discovered their relation after he joined the troupe during the first war."

"Oh.  So… what does he look like?"

Umm… He's tall – about 6'1."  He has green eyes and light brown hair."  At this point, Quatre laughs a little.  "He has what I like to call a uni-bang."

"Uni-bang?"  Jenna gives the blond an odd look.

"His bangs all fall to one side of his head, covering half of his face," Quatre explains, "At first, I thought his did that to keep his identity hidden, so people couldn't see his face, but when he kept it the same after the wars, I asked him why.  He said that it makes him feel safe."

"But the wars are over."

"For the world, maybe.  Physically - yes, but not in our minds.  It's hard to explain, but sometimes a soldier will relive past battles over and over again, so it's like the war never ends."

Jenna looks pitifully at Quatre.  "Are you one of those soldiers?"

Quatre had been expecting this question and so he smiles sadly.  "Ah."

The truck pulls over and Duo and Heero hop out, walking around to the back.  "Come on you two lovebirds.  We'll try to catch circus boy in his trailer," Duo says playfully, smiling.

Quatre agilely jumps over the side of the truck and lands softly on the ground, feet firmly set beneath him.  He then proceeds to help Jenna out of the truck, taking her hand in his and directing her where to put her feet so she doesn't fall and hurt herself.  She ignores his instruction and, reaching down, wraps her arms around his shoulders, effectively pushing him back and pulling her out.

Duo and Heero watch in amusement as Jenna's surprise actions cause them both to fall over, Quatre on the bottom.

"Oowww…" Quatre groans.  The blond deftly rolls Jenna off of him and slowly sits up, leaving her to fend for herself.

"You guys okay?" Duo asks.  He reaches a hand down to help Quatre up while Heero offers Jenna his aid.  Once standing on her own two feet, Jenna tries to apologize, "Quatre-"

"It's okay.  Just let me know next time you plan on doing something like that."

"Okay.  Sorry."

"Let's go find Trowa."  With that, the group walks into the circus' entrance, Quatre in the lead, followed closely by Jenna, and Duo and Heero behind her.  Duo notices that Quatre is walking faster than the rest of them and says, "Yo, Quat! Got a hot date after this or somethin'?!"

Quatre stops abruptly and turns around.  He looks at his friend in confusion.  "Huh?"

"You're walkin' like Speedy Gonzales up there," Duo says as he catches up to his Arabian friend.  Once he and the others reach the blond, they stop and stand in a small circle.

Heero looks around and comments, "Weren't there tents and booths around here?"

Duo and Quatre look around and nod their heads in agreement while Jenna keeps a steady gaze locked on the latter.

"They probably packed most of them up for their move tomorrow," Quatre suggests.

"Hnn.  Let's go find Trowa," Heero says and starts walking again, leaving the other three to watch his back.

Duo soon follows and shouts after him, "Weren't we doing that already?  Oi!  Heero!  Wait up!"

Quatre and Jenna stare blinking after them, look at each other, and shrug.  Quatre starts to walk after his friends, but Jenna stops him.  "Quatre?"

The blond stops and turns to face her.  "What?"

"I'm sorry… about before.  I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay.  I already said that it is."

"But you seemed so angry," Jenna says in a small voice.

Quatre sighs and says, "I'm not angry.  I'm sorry for acting cold, it's just… You know how we talked about the war and how it is for some soldiers… and you asked if it is the same for me?"

"Yes."

"And I said that it is.  My mind still associates people grabbing me as an attack.  Last week, Trowa's sister snuck up on me and touched my shoulder.  I was ready to fight her.  I was disappointed in myself – the fact that I could react so badly to a harmless gesture.  I'm sorry."

After listening to Quatre's explanation, Jenna's hands start shaking and she becomes nervous.  "You-you might have hurt me?"

"I would stop myself."

"Are you friends the same way?"

"To some extent, I suppose.  Heero still tends to reach for his gun when someone knocks on his door."

"Okay," Jenna says resolutely, "Okay.  That's-I can deal with that.  When we're married, I can help you with your problem.  I'll make you better."  Her tense face relaxes, her hands stop shaking, and she smiles.  Quatre doesn't return the smile.  He doesn't move.  He is about to say something when Duo's voice breaks in.

"Quatre!  Jen!  You guys coming?!"

"Yeah!"  Quatre shouts back.  "Come on, Jenna.  They're waiting."

"Alright."

The group meets back up and continues walking through the grounds.  After about five minutes of leisurely strolling, they catch sight of a small group of men taking down several large tents.  Among them, Heero recognizes their old friend.  He points him out to the others and they approach the deconstruction site.  Duo is the first to say anything.

"Trowa!  Aren't you gonna greet your guests?!"

The tall brunette stands up from his bent over position and looks in the direction that the voice came from.  He recognizes three out of four of the group approaching.  His brow furrows when he sees the girl walking closely to Quatre.

The visitors reach their destination and stand in front of a sweaty, shirtless Trowa.  Heero holds out his hand in greeting and Trowa takes it.

"It is good to see you again, Trowa."

"You, too, Heero," Trowa says.  He greets Duo the same way.

Jenna stays silent as she watches her fiancé step up to the tall man.

"Hi again, Trowa," Quatre says shyly, blushing as he notices the man's half-dressed state.  "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

Trowa nods silently and leads them into a smaller tent.  Inside, there are six folding chairs and two water dispensers.  The tall man fills a small cup and drinks it quickly.  "Why are you here?" he asks, looking to anyone but the engaged couple.

"Quat?"  Duo looks to the blond.  "I think we'll wait outside," he says as he directs Heero and Jenna out of the tent.  Quatre watches helplessly as they leave.

Once they are alone, Trowa looks to Quatre and stares silently.

"Trowa, I -" Quatre starts, but falters and looks at his feet.

"Was that her?" Trowa asks quietly.

"Yes," the Arabian answers, not looking up.

"She's pretty."

"Yeah."

"Does she know who I am?"

"Kind of."

"Does she know who you are?"

At this, Quatre looks up, surprised.  He opens his mouth, but can't say anything.  He looks away again.

"When's the wedding?" Trowa inquires while pouring himself another cup of water.

"In a month.  I came to ask -"

"No."

Trowa's clipped response catches Quatre off guard and the smaller man gasps.

"I can't," Trowa adds gently.  "I won't."

"I see," Quatre says dejectedly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be.  Will you come at all?" Quatre asks with hope.

"I don't know."

"Please, Trowa," Quatre begs.  "I would really like everyone to be there."

Trowa makes the mistake of meeting the blonde's eyes and can do nothing but give in.  "I'll… see.  If there aren't any shows, maybe."

Quatre smiles and relaxes.  "Thank you, Trowa.  Well, I should probably go, then."  He turns to leave, but is stopped when a hand grabs his arm and forces him back around.  He gasps and looks up to his tall friend.

With burning eyes, Trowa asks, "Do you love her?"

"… yes," Quatre answers, but looks away.

Trowa releases his hold and turns back to the water dispenser.  With shaking hands, he grabs a cup and fills it with water, saying, "Okay.  I'll se you later."

Quatre leaves the tent without a word.

Green eyes curtained by raven hair watch from the outside as the blond leaves the tent and the tall brunette clutches desperately at his drink, tension causing his hand to contract and crush the cup.

~+~+~

Once out of the tent, Quatre immediately spots Duo and Heero chatting close together.  He starts to walk over to them, but stops when he sees Heero raise his hand to swipe at the American's bangs, causing the violet-eyed man to blush.  Quatre continues to stare as his two friends inch closer together until the Japanese man places his hand behind Duo's head and pulls him into a kiss.  Quatre gasps and turns away, embarrassed at his wanting to watch.  He starts to walk in the other direction, but Duo's voice stops him.  "Quatre!  Where're ya goin'?  The truck's the other way!"

The Arabian stops and turns around, fighting hard not to blush as he thinks about what he just saw.  He gives his friend an embarrassed smile and rubs the back of his head with his hand.  Laughing lightly, he answers, "Yeah, sorry.  I guess I got turned around in the tent."

As Heero and Duo walk up to him, Quatre looks around and asks, "Where did Jenna go?"

~+~+~

Inside the small tent, Trowa walks heavily toward one of the folding chairs and falls onto it.  He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, letting his head drop into his hands.  Lifting his gaze, he looks disinterestedly at the crushed paper cup lying on the dirt ground a couple feet away; the one held only a minute ago.

Trowa stands when he hears footsteps enter the tent.  Before he realizes who it is, he says, "Quatre…"

"Is not here," a light voice finishes for him.

Trowa's eyes widen as he recognizes the girl who came with the three ex-Gundam pilots.

Jenna stands near the entrance, not daring to get closer to the tall man.  Then, she asks, "Did Quatre talk to you about the wedding?"

"Why ask when you already know the answer?" Trowa replies calmly.

Jenna stands in stunned silence, watching as the man bends down to pick up the smashed cup and throw it in a small trashcan.

"You said no."

"Ah."

"It's important that you be there."

"I don't need to be."

"If you care about him at all, you should go."

"You don't understand."

"I do," Jenna says stiffly, causing Trowa to look back at her.  "I understand that you're in love with him."

Trowa smirks and laughs bitterly.  "You don't understand."

"If you aren't there, he'll -"

"You don't know!" Trowa insists.

"I have only known him for six months, and I may not know him as well as you do, but one thing I do know is that he cares a great deal about you.  I won't pretend not to notice the way he looks at you.  And when he talks about you, he gets this look on his face and his eyes shine."  Jenna's voice starts to shake as she adds, "He loves you."

Trowa looks away and quietly says, "And you would still marry him."

"He says he loves me."

"You believe him?"

"Yes," Jenna replies, but adds, "To – to a point."

"Hn."

"I'm in love with him, and have told him so, but he has yet to say it back."

"In love with…"  Trowa nods, saying, "Don't say anything to him.  I'll be there."

"Thank you."  Jenna turns to leave, but asks, "Why haven't you tried to stop him from getting married?"

Trowa's shoulders slump as he answers.  "Because I love him."

Jenna nods and leaves the tent.

~+~+~

The drive back to the Winner Estate is done in silence as each person is consumed with his or her own thoughts.  Once Duo parks the truck, Quatre jumps out as before and Jenna follows his instructions for where to place her feet.  Duo and Heero step out of the truck's cab and follow the fiancés inside.

Rashid greets them all warmly and announces that dinner will be ready shortly.  He invites Jenna to stay, but she refuses and prepares to be taken home by Quatre's driver.  She and Quatre only exchange polite goodnights as they walk to the door.  Before she can leave, Quatre inquires, "What did you talk to Trowa about?"

Taken by surprise, Jenna turns to the blond and replies with, "I'm sorry?"

"I saw you leave the tent a few minutes after I did."

"I only asked him to reconsider his decision about his not coming to the wedding."

Quatre's brows furrow.  "How did you know what his decision was?  Unless you were listening?!"

"I'm sorry!  I just – I was concerned," Jenna insists.

Quatre takes a moment to calm himself, breathing deeply.  "And what did he say?"

"He'll be there.  At the wedding."

"He will?" Quatre says, surprised.

"Yes.  I knew how important it was to you.  I only relayed that sentiment to him.  He understood."

"Th-thank you," Quatre says quietly.  His hands begin to shake and he unconsciously starts rubbing them together.  "I… Thank you."

Jenna gives a fleeting smile and nods her head slightly.  "Goodnight, Quatre."  She leans in to kiss the blonde's lips, but he quickly turns his head so that she only gets his cheek.  She pulls away, disappointed, and leaves before he can look up.  Quatre is left to stare at the door.

His guilt trip is cut short, however, by Duo's bright voice.  "Quat!  Dinner's up!"

The Arabian slowly turns and makes his way into the dining hall, braving a small smile for his guests, and sits at the head the large, rectangular table, Duo and Heero on either side of him.  One of the kitchen staff, a young man not much older than the pilots, serves their dinner and quickly exits the room before any of them can utter a thank you.

The meal is taken in silence, the Japanese and American men exchanging concerned looks while the Arabian stays ignorant of anything that may be amiss.  Eventually, Quatre looks up and notices his friends' meaningful glances at one another.  He blushes at memories that he had hoped would not resurface.  Taking a deep breath, he turns to Duo and says, "Duo, we're friends, right?"

The longhaired brunette is taken aback and answers, "Of course we are!  How can you even ask something like that?"

"We tell each other everything, don't we?"

"Uhh…" Duo hesitates, but then says, "Well, yeah, just about."

"So you'd tell me if you were with someone, right?"

The American's eyes go wide and he looks at Heero, blushes, and looks back at the blond.  "Quatre, I'm mean, that-that's… hell.  What do you know?" he finally says, defeated.

Quatre smiles triumphantly and, faking a hurt looks, asks, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Heero decides to cut in and says, "We thought it would be most prudent to keep our relationship secret until after you straightened things out with Trowa."

Quatre's smile falters, but his eyes immediately take a mischievous glint as he says, "Your… relationship?  I thought – oh my goodness.  I didn't -"

Duo and Heero look at their friend, wide-eyed and pale, the Japanese man having lost control of his vocal chords, opening and closing his mouth like a fish and making no sound.  Duo can only stare at the blond until he finally says, "You-you didn't know?!"  He decidedly smacks his boyfriend's head with his hand and yells, "Good one, Yuy!"  The perfect soldier is snapped out of his momentary trance and growls.

Quatre keeps it in as long as he can, but eventually has to let it go.  He laughs.  Hard.  And loud.  His head is thrown back and his hands rest on his stomach.  After a couple minutes of this, the Arabian leans forward, still laughing, and rests his head on the table.  His shoulders continue to shake while his friends watch him in stunned silence.

"What the hell is so funny, Winner?!" Duo demands.

Teary eyed and short of breath, Quatre looks up and, still chuckling lightly, says, "I'm sorry.  I just had to do it.  I couldn't resist."  He takes a few deep breaths, trying to rid himself of the giggles, and stands with the intention of taking his plate to the kitchen.  A strong arm, however, stops his progress and he is faced with burning cobalt eyes.  He gasps and sits quickly back into his seat.

"You knew?"

"He-Heero… I, um, I saw you today.  At the circus, when you kissed."  The blush comes back full force, and Quatre looks down.

Duo and Heero look at each other and smile.  "Hn.  And?"

The blond looks up quickly and offers a small smile and soft eyes.  "I'm so happy for you."  His smile falters, but he recovers quickly.  Heero's hand releases him and he stands, gathering his plate and utensils.  He walks quietly into the kitchen and puts his things into the sink.  Once his hands are free, he rests them on the counter top and leans onto it.  He breathes deeply as he feels his heart constrict.  He starts to whisper, saying, "Stop.  Stop.  I don't want to think about him."  His face breaks out into a sweat and he sinks slowly to the floor.  With his back to the cabinets below the sink, he raises his knees and hides his face in his resting arms.  "Trowa…"

Duo and Heero, following Quatre's example, carry their dishes into the kitchen only to be surprised at the sight of their friend on the floor.  They quickly set their dishes in the sink and kneel on either side of the blond.  Duo lays a hand on the Arabian's arm, saying, "Quat?"

"I don't," Quatre starts, voice cracking.  "I don't know what to do.  Allah, I don't know what to do."

Heero exchanges looks with the American and, looking back to Quatre, asks, "Quatre, what's wrong?"

"I don't know what to do.  I want him, but I don't know how…"

Duo sits on the floor and puts his arm around his friend.

"My heart hurts."  Quatre leans on the American and lets the other man pull him into a hug.  He starts to cry when he feels Heero's hands rub his back lightly.

"Quatre?" Duo says gently.  "Why don't you try to get some sleep, huh?"

"Do you know what I dream of, Duo?"

The American shakes his head slowly.

"Him.  He touches me, holds me… kisses me.  And then she comes.  I marry her while he watches, and I smile.  I can't stop it.  I know I can't.  I do love her."

"Are you in love with her?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit, Quatre!"

"I could be… someday."

"What about Trowa?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I love him."

"And?"

"In love."

"Well, thank the high heavens!" Duo exclaims, releasing his hold of the blond, causing him to fall into his lap with a squawk.  "I thought you'd never say it!"

Quatre pushes himself up off of the American's legs and looks between his friends with a tear-streaked face.  "What do you mean?"

Duo rolls his eyes.  "Join the program, Quat!  We've been watching you go in circles over Trowa, but you never admitted to having any feelings for him beyond friendship," he insists, standing and helping the blond up also.  "Now go to bed before you get the chance to take it back!"

Quatre is effectively pushed upstairs and into his bedroom, door shut tightly behind him.  His face still wet from crying, the Arabian drowsily makes his way to the king-sized bed.  Not bothering to undress first, he throws himself into the big pile of pillow heaven awaiting him, and falls asleep, face flushed with thoughts of his desperate confession to his friends.

~+~+~

Duo and Heero move about in their shared suite at Quatre's estate, preparing for bed.  Heero quickly and efficiently rids himself of his jeans and puts on a pair of burgundy flannel pants, leaving his white button-up shirt on for the time being.  Duo opts to change tops first and then turns around to change pants.  Once he is done changing, he walks to the dresser and picks up his brush from the top of it.  With years of practice under his belt, he deftly unbraids his hair and slowly runs his fingers through it.

"Duo," Heero says while he begins to unbutton his shirt.

"Hmm?" Duo asks, working the soft brush through his hair.

"Do you brush your hair every night?"

"Mmhmm," the American answers absently.

"Why have I never seen you do it, then?"

At this, Duo turns around and grimaces as he pulls too hard on a snag.  "I don't – ow – know.  Damn it."  His face wrinkles up when he looks at the clump of knotted hair trapped in the bristles of his brush.

Heero smiles and walks over to the American still wearing his shirt, although unbuttoned.  He takes the brush from the other man's hand and directs him to sit on one of the beds.

Duo obediently sits, but says, "Heero, you don't have to.  I mean, my hair's my problem and you don't have much experience with-"

"Shut up, baka," Heero orders gently.

"But-"

"Shh…" Heero soothes, taking some of Duo's hair in his hand as he sits on his knees behind him, and slowly runs the brush through it.  When he finds a tangle, he gently works through it with his fingers and then with the brush.  Ten minutes later, he sets the brush down and runs his fingers through the chestnut strands.  He feels Duo shiver and he smiles.  "Did you enjoy that?" Heero whispers in the American's ear.  He receives only another shiver in response.  The Japanese man takes the curtain of hair and pushes it over the other man's shoulder, kissing the bare nape his actions reveal.

"Heero," Duo whispers.

Making no sound, Heero runs his hands up and down the American's cloth covered arms, stops, and starts to massage his muscular shoulders, occasionally landing a kiss when his hands' movements pull back the collar of Duo's shirt and expose his neck.  Duo offers no complaint, so Heero shifts his body to try to achieve a more comfortable position, ending up with his legs spread apart and on either side of his friend.

Duo can only sit, completely shocked at the Japanese man's forward actions, and moan his appreciation.  His muscles begin to feel warm and like jelly.  He leans back and feels Heero's hot breath in his ear.  "Heero," he whispers again and turns his head toward the warmth.

"Mmm…" Heero answers, moving his hands over the other man's shoulders and onto his chest.  He continues his ministrations and moves in to kiss the lips he sees, but suddenly, the lips are gone as Duo jumps up with a yelp.

"Whoa!  Whoa.  Okay," the American starts, breathing deep and raspy.  "Too fast."

Heero can only look up at him in confusion.  "I thought-"

"You thought wrong.  I mean, you – not really, but…"  Duo's nervous expression softens and he tries again.  "Sorry.  I'm just… not ready."

"Duo, it was just a massage."

"Yeah.  A really good massage and – and really good massages can lead to other, uh, things and I-"

"Duo-"

"I can't."

"I'm not asking you to."  Heero stands and approaches the other man.  "Too soon," he says quietly and takes the American's hands in his.

"Y-yeah."

Heero gives Duo a quick kiss on the lips and goes to his bed.  Taking off his shirt, he gets under the covers, saying, "Goodnight, Duo."

Duo watches in stunned silence, but recovers and says goodnight in return.

~+~+~

Another week passes.  Duo and Heero return to their apartment, checking up on Quatre every now and then to make sure that he is not going crazy with the wedding preparations.  As each day passes, the blond man appears more and more frazzled.  With no word from Trowa, the Arabian suffers from growing doubt about whether or not the tall brunette will actually show up at the ceremony.

Another morning finds Quatre in a sour mood.  More trouble arises with his bed sheets and he concludes that the entire bed sheet community is out to get him.

"RASHID!!!!!"

Thundering footsteps rumble the whole second floor as the large Arabian runs to wait on his employer.  Quickly opening the doors to Quatre's bedchambers, he asks, wide-eyed and fearful, "What is it, Master Quatre?  Are you all right?"  Looking around, he sees no sign of the young blond and takes a moment to breath.

Slowly, the door to the washroom opens and a dejected young man walks out, head hung and barefoot, in his boxers.  His pale blond hair hides his face as he maneuvers toward the bed, passing Rashid as though he weren't there.  The tall man makes no sound; he follows the boy with his eyes, turning his head only when necessary.  As the blond approaches the bed, his feet drag more and more.  Two inches before his legs bump into the bed frame, he stops and just falls forward.  A painful moan sounds, but the young man makes no effort to make himself more comfortable.

After several moments of silence and static movement, Rashid says, "Master Quatre?"

The immobile blond grunts in response, his body spasming slightly from the exertion.

"Can I get you something?"

"A shot to the head would be nice," comes the muffled reply.

"How about a shot of tea in your mouth?"

"Make it strong and you've got a deal," Quatre answers as he rolls onto his back and sits up gracefully.  "Could you bring some ice, too?"

Rashid's eyes widen at the request and he walks over to the young man.  "Master Quatre, what did you do?"  he attempts to take the blonde's chin in his hand and turn his face upward, but the ex-Gundam pilot easily escapes the advance.

Making sure to keep his head turned away, Quatre coldly orders, "Just bring the ice."

Shocked at the edge in the young man's voice, Rashid backs off and leaves the room with only an, "Of course."

Still sitting on his bed, Quatre lets out a long breath and glances wearily at his mirror.  Standing carefully, the Arabian walks over to the glass and peers at his reflection.  A red gash splits his right temple, a small trickle of blood making its way down the man's cheek.

"Damn it…"  Warily pressing the flesh around the wound, Quatre grimaces and wipes at the blood on his face, effectively smearing it into his hair.  "Shit!  Of all the damned-"

The blond is cut off as Rashid reenters the room, carrying a tray of tea and ice packs.    The young man turns toward his employee and glares hotly, causing the large man to frown.

"Call him, Quatre," is all Rashid says as he sets the tray down on a table and walks out, closing the door behind him.

~+~+~

Two days pass in much the same way, domestic employees growing increasingly tense and irritable due to their master's mood.

Rashid, at his wit's end, breaks down and does what he's been telling the blond Arabian to do for the past few days:  he calls Trowa.

Trowa is, to say the least, surprised by the Arabian's call, but keeps his stoic demeanor nonetheless.  "Rashid."

Rashid nods sharply and gets right to the point.  "I am sending you a one way ticket to L4."

Trowa frowns slightly, eyes narrowing as he says, "Don't bother.  I'll be there in five days."

"It is not soon enough."

"It will have to be.  I have shows for the next 3 days."

"You must have stand-ins."

"Yes, but-"

"Don't argue about this!" Rashid exclaims.  "I am going crazy!  Everyone here is going crazy!  And you are the only one who can fix it!"

Unsure of how to argue, Trowa tries, "Duo or Heero-"

"Have been unable to do anything about him."

"Do anything about him?" Trowa asks in amazement.  "What exactly is wrong with him?"

Rashid sighs and explains.  "Master Quatre has been in a perpetually worsening bad mood for the past week and a half.  Up until two days ago, it was just grumpiness."

Trowa's brow furrows and he asks, "What happened two days ago?"

"He started screaming at employees.  He has practically locked himself in his room.  I found him with a deep cut on his forehead.  He gets agitated and starts thrashing about, causing himself to fall over and hit his head or whatever else on pieces of furniture.  I don't know what to do."

"How am I supposed to-"

"It's because of you that he's like this!  The ticket is on its way.  Be prepared to leave by tomorrow night."  With that said, Rashid hangs up the phone, leaving the stunned brunette to swallow his words.

Trowa stares, stunned, at his vid-phone in the trailer.  Too involved in trying to comprehend what was happening, the tall performer doesn't notice as his sister enters the room.

"Trowa, what do you want for dinner?  I'm thinking pizza, the take-out variety.  I'm really not in the mood to cook and-"  Catherine stops when she notices that her brother is not listening.  "Trowa?"  She receives no reply, so she approaches the tall man and lays her hand on his shoulder.  Again, she asks, "Trowa?"

Trowa slowly turns to face his sister and tilts his head.  "Huh?  Cathy, when did you come in?" he inquires as he walks past the woman and sits down in the living room.

Catherine can't help but stare, dumbfounded, at her brother.  "Um… just a minute ago.  Trowa, are you okay?"

The young man slowly nods from the couch and stares at the black television screen.

"Trowa," Catherine says again from the kitchen.

"I'm going to need some time off."

"Okay, when?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?!"

"And the next five days after that."

"No!  We have shows to do."

"Jimmy can do the acts in my place."

Catherine huffs in frustration and walks up behind her brother.  "All right, tell me the truth.  Some global emergency or an unexpected visit from blondie?"

"Neither."

"Neither.  So, what, you just decided that performing on L-1 isn't for you?"

"Quatre's getting married in five days and he's freaking out.  Rashid asked for my help," Trowa explains simply.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You're gonna help Quatre so he can marry that girl."

"Yeah."

"I'll talk to the boss, but-"

"I know.  Nothing will happen."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Catherine quietly goes into her bedroom, saying, "Goodnight."

"'Night," Trowa returns.  He continues to sit on the couch, staring at the TV and thinking about what the hell he is supposed to do.