This is the first fic I've written in a while, so if I'm a bit rusty, I apologize for any OOCness. I try to avoid it, but I may be in need of more Quatre researching if it does pop up. Review if you feel it was good. Drop me a message otherwise, if you find any spelling or grammar issues.

Alright, the normal stuff. Disclaimer!!!!! I don't own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters from it. Nor do I own any novels or other literary things I may slip in.


The bright halogen lights burned his exhausted retinas. Pain started at the base of his skull and exploded like a solar flare over his head, ceasing just above his left eye. Quatre Raberba Winner was starting to burn out. The massive piles of paperwork that some inconsiderate imp kept leaving on his desk did not help the situation.

He rubbed his temples, slightly scolding himself. 'Anne is just doing her job,' he told himself. 'No need to call her an imp.'

Quatre attempted to get back to the mountainous stack of parchment, when he was interrupted by the door opening.

He sighed. "Anne, please don't bring me more paperwork!" he half pleaded, not looking up.

Instead of a lilting soprano response, he was rewarded with a soft baritone chuckle.

"Master Quatre, I was merely bringing you a status report." Rashid Kurama, Quatre's ever faithful friend and Maganac leader, said with an air of amusement.

Quatre looked up, relieved. "Oh, it's you Rashid," he sighed. "Thank goodness, Winner Corp. is just . . . " he motioned slightly to the large pile of paperwork. "Well, you can see."

Rashid nodded. He felt a twang of concern for his 19-year-old friend. Quatre had been doing well for himself the past few years, in light of the Christmas eve war and the events of AC 195. However, the stress of working for a large colonial corporation was obviously getting to him. His normally aquamarine eyes were glazed, and dark circles ran under them.

Rashid frowned. "Master Quatre, you don't look well. Is something the matter?" he asked.

Quatre sighed, and pushed his soft leather chair back from the paperwork-cluttered desk. "My poor desk," he said, patting it softly. He sighed. "Rashid, I don't know if I can do this much longer." He admitted, looking his friend in the eyes.

Rashid raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you mean? Running the company? Or is it something more?"

Quatre brushed his blond bangs from his eyes, and sighed. A hair cut was something this job was also keeping him from. "Rashid, this job is just too much. Normally I would say that I could manage dividing my time between work and," he paused a moment, thinking. "Well, whatever is outside of work. Which hasn't been that much, including sleep."

Rashid looked concerned. "Master Quatre, why don't you and I grab a cup of tea. You could use the escape from the work."

Quatre's face flooded with relief. "Thank you, Rashid. I'll take you up on that offer." He said, pushing the chair back and standing.

He searched his cluttered desk for the phone, and not finding it, gave up. He shrugged to Rashid. "I'll just let Anne know to hold my calls." Rashid chuckled, and laid a hand on Quatre's slim shoulder as they walked out of the office.

Quatre quietly asked Anne to have anyone wishing to reach him call back, and followed Rashid to the elevator.

"So, Master, what else has been on your mind?" Rashid asked, queuing the elevator to the ground floor.

Quatre looked out the glass window of the elevator at the colony. "Rashid, while I loved my father as much as everyone else in my family, I really don't believe myself to be the one to run this business." he sighed, focusing on a tall office building. "Iria can handle it better than I could, even if it would take her away from the hospital. I'm just not cut out for this kind of work. I need to be with people, not paper."

Rashid looked on, nodding with understanding. "Perhaps you need a break, Master." he said as the elevator ceased its journey. "Have you thought of other careers you could take up that would suit your particular skills?" he asked.

Quatre remained silent, looking pensive. He led Rashid through the large glass doors of the Winner Corp. office building. "I'm not sure Rashid. Anything that would get me away from files, paperwork, politics, and business." he finally admitted, sighing. "I realize that could mean anything, but I love working with people. Not stepping on them."

Rashid smiled. His young friend was definitely maturing. "Yes, I do recall a time just after the Christmas Eve war that you acted as a foreman more than a company manager. I believe, Master, that you would probably do well at anything you set your mind to." he said as the pair strolled down the busy street of the L-4 colony.

Quatre's cheeks reddened at the compliment. "Your confidence in my abilities may be inflated, Rashid. I've only just recently adapted to the civilian life, and remember," he said, stopping suddenly on the sidewalk. "I haven't even attended a university."

Rashid nodded, and prodded the young man along. "Yes Master, but you also have gift for understanding people. You haven't gained the nickname 'Heart of Outer Space' without reason. Your kindness is something that is well known. Ah, here we are." he said, stopping in front of an outdoor café. "It's been rumored that this place has excellent tea."

Quatre smiled as he and his friend seated themselves in the black wire chairs. "I just wish I had more of an idea what direction I should be going," he admitted. "I know that my sisters would not be pleased if I up and left them with the company to run without a reason." he said, his eyes looking worried.

Rashid scratched his beard a moment, his eyes glazing over in thought. "Master Quatre, I may have something in mind." Quatre's eyes widened. "Something young Mr. Barton mentioned when he last visited. I believe his lovely sister had a friend that worked in one of the agricultural colonies in our cluster. I can't recall the details, but perhaps if you phone him, he'd be able to tell you about his acquaintance?"

Quatre smiled. "I may do that, Rashid." His eyes lit up slightly. "I haven't heard from Trowa in a while, and if he can help solve my dilemma, all the better." Rashid nodded in agreement as the waiter appeared to take their orders.


Hours later, Quatre found himself in front of the vid-phone. He called up the registry and phoned Trowa. He hadn't seen his quiet friend for nearly six months, but that was to be expected as the stoic Heavyarms pilot was often on the move with the circus.

The screen in front of him activated, and he was greeted by the smiling face of Catherine Bloom, Trowa's friend and trailer mate.

"Quatre!" she exclaimed, smiling. "It's good to see you! I assume you want to talk to Trowa?" she asked.

Quatre smiled in return. "Yes, thank you Catherine." he waited while she called to Trowa off screen. "How are you?" he asked her when she turned her attention back to him.

"Oh, I'm fine. The usual, you know. Work, move, work, rest. But we're all doing well here. Oh, here's Trowa," Catherine said, backing away from the screen.

Quatre felt his cheeks tighten into a grin at the sight of his friend's long, brown bangs. "Trowa!"

Trowa nodded. "Quatre. It's been a long time." he said quietly.

Quatre had to smile at the twenty-year-old pilot. Some things never changed, and Trowa was obviously as talkative as ever.

"I just wanted to give you a call because I haven't seen you in a while, and," he took a breath in before continuing. "Because Rashid recommended that I do so."

Trowa raised an eyebrow. "Rashid did?" he asked.

Quatre nodded, and quickly explained his situation with the company and how the stress was getting to him.

Trowa nodded periodically throughout the explanation. Then he furrowed his eyebrows when he realized Quatre was finished.

"So why did Rashid recommend you call me?" he asked, concern glinting from his visible eye.

"He said you knew someone who I may be able to contact to try something new. Said she lived on an agro-colony in the L-4 cluster." Quatre explained. He wasn't sure of the details, so there was little else he could offer his friend. Fortunately, Trowa seemed to understand.

"Oh. Catherine must have talked to him about Adrienne." he said thoughtfully.

"Adrienne?" Quatre asked. That was the first time he'd heard that name mentioned from both Catherine and Trowa.

Trowa nodded slightly. "Yes, she's a psychologist who works out of a house by one of the agro-colony's lakes. As I recall, it's a beautiful place. Catherine visited her on the circus' last trip to the colonies."

Quatre looked confused. "She's a psychologist? I wonder why Rashid would have mentioned her to me."

Trowa's visible eyebrow rose. "You are a kind person, Quatre. I also know that you have an unusual amount of empathy. Perhaps . . . " he turned to face off the screen. "Catherine," he called. "Do you know what Adrienne's number is?" he asked.

Catherine said something unintelligible off screen, and Trowa turned back to Quatre. "I'm sending you her e-mail address right now. Apparently she doesn't have a phone at the house." He said, shrugging.

Quatre reached for a pen and wrote the number down. "So what should I expect from her? Is there anything I should mention?" he asked.

Trowa looked thoughtful a moment, and then shook his head. "No. Just tell her that I told you to contact her." He gazed at his friend for a moment. "She works with kids in need, Quatre. But somehow I think that you'll do well there." He said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

Quatre smiled. "Alright, I'll do that Trowa. I hope to see you soon."

Trowa nodded before cutting the connection.

Quatre sighed and turned in his chair to look across his room. Why was had work suddenly become something that was a burden? The stress level had only become intolerable in the last year or so. So why now did he feel the need to find a new occupation?

He stood and padded barefoot across his large room. He paused to straighten a few stray fringes on the large ornamental rug, and sat on his bed. He sighed again and hoped that Trowa wasn't sending him to his psychologist friend for therapy! Quatre shook his head. No, that wasn't Trowa at all. He was more direct than that.

Shrugging, he picked up the small, white book from his bed stand. Abdul had recommended Catcher in the Rye to him, and he'd been meaning to get through it. However, leisure reading was something that he'd had little time for the past few weeks. Perhaps a few chapters would help him unwind.

He was asleep after the third page.


Two weeks later, Quatre found himself standing outside a large, sprawling, ranch house on Agricultural colony 3. He smiled at the open design, as well as the large lake that dominated the back yard. It was a very beautiful setting.

"You must be Quatre," an auburn haired young woman called from the front door. "I'm Adrienne, why don't you come in?" she offered.

Quatre smiled and picked up his brown Preventer duffle bag. He slung it over his shoulder and stepped onto her porch.

"Thank you for letting me stay a while. I don't know how much I'll be able to help you, but I'm grateful for your offer." He said, following her into the house.

She manoeuvered him to a small study, and had him set his things down.

"So, tell me a bit more about yourself. I know we've talked a few times, but I figure it'd be nice to get some background information on you." Adrienne said, sitting in a small grey recliner.

Quatre sat in the matching couch opposite her, and chuckled to himself.

"What?" she asked, smiling.

"Oh, it's nothing." Quatre said with a smile. "I just feel like I'm in a counseling session with this couch here."

Adrienne smiled. "Have you been to counseling before?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

Quatre shook his head. "No. Well, yes. I remember a period when I was twelve that my father tried to send me in for some, but that didn't last long. I got over myself after meeting Rashid and the Maganac Corps."

"Ah. Well that's good, I would wonder if Catherine had sent me another patient." Adrienne said, half-jokingly. Quatre noticed she seemed rather sad.

"I'm sorry. Did I come at a bad time?" he asked, his aquamarine eyes turning to a deeper blue as concern filled him.

Adrienne's face wavered a bit. "Oh, no. It isn't you, Quatre. You are a blessing." She sighed, looking at the ceiling. "Believe me. You are a blessing. Didn't Trowa tell you?" she asked.

"Tell me what?" Quatre asked, confused. Adrienne wasn't making that much sense. Was there something he should know?

"Well, I am working alone here with four children. And each one of them has their own need. I just wish I had more funding or help. But these cases are the most difficult to deal with. I guess you could say I am the last person to receive these kids when the normal system can't take them." Adrienne said sadly. Her shoulders drooped slightly. Then she straightened them. "But now you are here. I figure we'll have a lot of time to talk. But I do have one other question for you if you don't mind."

"By all means, please ask away." Quatre said, leaning back into the couch.

"Your empathy, I have heard stories about it. Can you really sense the emotions of others beside your own?" she asked, leaning forward in the recliner.

Quatre bit his lip slightly, and played with the buttons on his blue polo shirt. He had always been rather inarticulate when it came to the empathy. How did one explain something that was as mysterious as space itself?

He sighed and shrugged. "Yes. I do," he answered simply. "I can't explain to you why or how, but I can."

Adrienne nodded, looking understanding. "That's all I wished to know. But I do hope you can use it. Maybe you can help me crack some of the kids here. Would you like to . . . " A sharp gasp cut her off.

Quatre turned his head to locate the source of the gasp. A small boy, no more than 10 stood in the doorway to the study, holding a Leo model.

Quatre smiled at the boy's disorganized black hair. "Hi there!" he greeted, waving slightly.

The boy's face stayed frozen the way it had been for the few second's he'd stood there. A curious feeling washed over Quatre, and he wasn't sure what he was feeling from the boy. Then the child screamed.


A/N I did a bit of research on several websites and cross referranced it with some japanese ones. Appearently Rashid has a last name. Take it as you will. shrug Again, thanks for reading!