Title: a bit of a stab

By: TyrneJ

Series: GundamWing

Disclaimer: Written by a fan, for fans only. No profit is being made from this story - it's just a story, and not meant to do anything much more than entertain.
notes: It's been a long time since I've written for GW, and this story is a lot different from the ones I've started off with. Wow. However, I do feel that there are implications in this fic, and if you don't know me, then I guess I should warn you that I prefer slash pairings in this series. Not that I hate het pairings - I just don't tend to write them as much. I realize that this may or may not be able to fit in at any point in the series. I call upon the powers of loophole. It was, however, intended for sometime before the Zero System mess. And it is not the Winner mansion, dammit.

Thnk, thnk, thnk. Pause. Swssshhh.

Thnk. Thnk, thnk, thnk, thnk, thnk.

"You like basketball, don't you?"

Duo paused once more on the driveway, raising an eyebrow at the blonde sitting in the grass to the side. "What makes you say that, Quatre?" This was said as he scored what he deemed was worth another three points, against an imaginary team of Not-So-Cool-As-He. The basketball, having completed its path through the net, bounced off of the wall and returned to him lazily, and he stepped forward to snag it again. "I kinda figured I was a baseball guy, myself."

Quatre waggled his head at his friend's sarcasm, then resumed picking at the grass at his feet. Somewhere in the back of his head, he could see the streaks of green that were already forming on his tan slacks simply from his position on the lawn, and he held back the urge to grimace. He was, after all, supposed to be outside, relaxing.

As opposed to getting Sandrock ready for another battle.

Not that he minded either, but more than a few people have all but kicked both him and Duo out of the house in an effort, he felt, to keep some sort of sanity. Whose, he had yet to figure out.

For all his arm-waving and loudmouthed bravado, it never really occurred to Quatre that Duo would go insane. Maybe himself?

Trowa may have mentioned something like that before, but he was always quick to change the subject.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

With a start, Quatre looked up to see Duo practically in his face, his braid hanging over his shoulder to drape onto the basketball in the crook of his arm. The blonde blinked.

"Nothing much."

"Oh."

For lack of anything better to say, Quatre added, "Who won?"

Someone with a bigger ego would have been insulted. Duo, on the other hand, only smiled widely and stood back on his heels. "I did, of course." A jab of thumb into chest, and a flip of a chestnut-brown braid. "Hey, whattaya say we go back in and steal some lunch?"

"Do you think Trowa was right?"

"... Huh?"

The question was suddenly important, yet Quatre still had no clue how he managed to spew it out into the open to Duo like that. And, even better, he had no clue how to explain what brought it about in the first place. "Um, I. Er." Was all he managed, which helped Duo out oh-so-much.

Getting up suddenly seemed harder than talking, and, still hearing his question echo in his mind, Quatre found himself reflecting Duo's dumbfounded look from his spot on the lawn.

"I mean, um." And here, he tried to laugh it off and stand up again, making it this time, and brushing futilely at the stains he knew were there on his tan slacks. "Never mind, I was thinking to myself, and - "

"Was it about you?"

Quatre paused from fussing with his pants to stare at Duo. "What?"

"Was it about you?" Duo was simply curious, and all of a sudden, Quatre could feel something... different, emanating from the other pilot. Like a portion of the self that was underneath a shell of smiles, and laughter, and overloaded volume -

"... Yes." As much as he hated to admit it, and as much as he would never want to see himself in the mirror as someone without the light of sanity's comprehension, or some other poetic phasing like the lines in Wufei's diary -

- and the shield was back again, and Duo was tossing the ball over his shoulder across the driveway, managing to miss Miss Peacecraft's limousine by an inch on the top. "Well. Then, I think he's right."

Pause. Quatre digested this.

"But," And here he was desperately trying to figure out how Duo came to that conclusion, "you don't even know what he was talking about!"

"I don't really need to know all that." Duo's back was already to him; Deathscythe's pilot was already trying to find a way to sneak into the building. "Trowa's always right about you, y'know."

"... What do you mean?"

Shrug. "Just the way it is. He knows you better than the rest of us, that's for sure."

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just that watching Duo creep along the bushes was inspiring the mood, but Quatre couldn't help but point it out. "At least I'm sure that he doesn't know me like Heero knows you, Duo."

"Gah!" Duo let out a yelp as if stung and turned to glare at the blonde. "Touche. Didn't know you knew that."

Quatre grinned as he went to join Duo in being sneaky. "I have my sources."

A grimace. "Just as long as you keep those sources away from the rest of the world, I'm fine."

In the back of his mind, Quatre once more latched onto the idea of green streaks all over his slacks, and he twisted his head to make sure they weren't too noticeable. Duo suddenly mashed his hand onto Quatre's head, and they watched silently as a maid rushed outdoors with a pile of ruined laundry, moaning about her boss and the bleach being in the wrong place and oh what a mess the dye made all over her master's bedroom -

While they were waltzing back out of the building, carrying a large chunk of the refrigerator's contents, Duo said over his shoulder, "Yeah, so I still say Trowa's right about you, Quatre. No matter what it is."

Sitting on the lawn again, this time sharing a generous lunch, Quatre finally had to agree. And that's what scares me most of all.

But if Trowa knew him better than even he did -

- then he hoped that Trowa would be the one to save him.

(And the mansion staff knew that Quatre Raberba Winner never had grass-streaked clothes. It was on their list of Gundam Pilot Miracles.)

end