Well, this short fic is the result of one AnitaRealityCheck , and one small bit of mindless yammering between the two of us.
Although I have labeled this as a Trowa x Quatre story, there is nothing even remotely graphic involved, and the way it is written can simply be taken as extreme friendship (although you 3x4 fans can easily see it as such as well)
Hope you enjoy this humorous little fi as well. Expect 3 chapters max for this story
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"Trowa, I'm scared."
Trowa Barton heaved a great sigh and rubbed at a temple as he looked up at one Quatre Raberba Winner on the vid screen.
"What's happened now?" He mentally groaned.
Quatre seemed to wiggle in anxiety as he sat in his office chair.
"I can't find anyone." He answered bluntly, slightly chewing at his lip.
Trowa raised an eyebrow, and leaned back in his own chair.
"You can't…find anyone?" He repeated.
The blonde let out a frustrated whine.
"I woke up, and no one else was home!" He groaned, resting his head in his hands.
Trowa only sighed once more.
"This is SERIOUS Trowa! This has NEVER happened to me before. In case you have forgotten, I live in a Mansion. I have 29 older sisters, several staff members, and a fleet of men who feel the need to leave a few of their numbers in my residency at all times." Quatre threw his hands in the air. "I've never woken up alone, in an empty house. Not in my 17 years of life have I not woken to 'Good Morning Master Quatre'. I used to find this an annoyance, now I find that it's far more comforting than I once realized…" He slumped against the back of the chair in defeat.
"So, in actuality, you're lonely."
"Ye- wait, no! That's not what I'm saying!" Quatre groaned, shaking his head. "I'm…well, freaked out a little, that's all… This house is huge, and it's empty… and it has come to my attention that this house is, well, haunted…" He murmured in a hushed whisper.
"Quatre… I'm getting off the phone now..."
"No! I'm being serious Trowa! Honest!" The blonde exclaimed, leaning in closer to the screen. "My pillows, they were neatly arranged in the corner of my room this morning. I step into the room an hour ago, and they were sprawled out across the floor in a great puffy mess! As I am the only one home, and I have checked my surveillance Trowa, I find this rather odd."
"You're worrying because your oversized tower of pillows fell?"
"They didn't fall, Trowa. They were sabotaged. They are all over my room. If they had fallen, then they would be confined to the one corner."
"Still, it's just pillows." Trowa answered bluntly, finger still hovering over the end key.
"It is NOT just the pillows Trowa. I've been hearing strange noises all morning… and when I go to check things out, there is absolutely no source to the noise."
"The house is settling."
"The house is not settling!" The blonde snapped. "This Manor is old, very old. It's far past settling Trowa, and the foundation is sound. As an architect, I know such sounds anyway… These are like, something is being dragged, or things breaking. Even when I was on my way to the kitchen… I could have sworn I heard someone going through the cabinets, but when I got there, no one was there."
"Then you probably have a mouse Quatre. Simple explanations for all of these occurrences can be found."
"Do mice eat peanut butter?" Quatre's eyes narrowed as he glared at the man.
"Yes Quatre, mice eat-"
"Do they take it out of the cabinet, walk ten feet across the room, set it upon the marble table top, unscrew the lid and leave a crusty butter knife sitting next to it as they flee from my footsteps? I think not."
This, the brunette could explain, and he sat their dumbfounded.
"No, I suppose not…" He trailed off, creasing his brow. "But still, I don't think this is cause to worry about ghosts."
"Says you. Tons of other things have happened, but I'm not going to go over each individual case with you. I'm scared Trowa, and someone, less faint at heart, needs to help me investigate." He whined, putting forth his strongest pout face.
Trowa sighed.
It was times such as these that he wondered how Quatre had ever handled being a Gundam Pilot in the first place…
"Have the Maguanacs look into it for you. I'm sure at least one of them is still on the colony, call around."
Quatre resumed squirming in his seat once more.
"Most of them are on Earth currently, and I've already told you that the ones that were here have vanished! Don't you think I'd have called them prior to you?"
"I'm not answering that." Trowa crossed his arms over his chest.
"Well…I did! No one picked up, and only two of them have cell phones. What if the ghost got them? They might need rescuing!"
"I seriously doubt that…" Trowa stared at the blonde with worry. "Have you been sleeping alright?"
"Yes Trowa, I've been fine…tonight I am not sure about…" He shuddered, shaking his head. "What if it tries to attack while I'm sleeping?"
Trowa resisted a face palm, and frowned at the man.
"Really, Quatre?"
"Let's pretend for one moment that you believe me Trowa…" Quatre glared. "How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow, put on the channel 16 news that that you like to watch, and with sad faces they reveal to the galaxy that the Winner heir has been brutally murdered in the night?"
"You do realize that I'm stationed on L1 currently, right?"
Quatre grimaced, but gave a heavy sigh.
"I'll…I'll send you a shuttle myself if you'll come! Please Trowa? They can do the show without you for one teensy little night, can't they?"
Trowa cringed at the face Quatre made in effort to convince him, and slumped his shoulders in defeat.
"Catherine is going to have a conniption fit, you know his don't you?"
"Will manager be angry with you?"
Trowa sighed.
"No, relieved more than likely. He says I need to take more time off. Rather frequently. I've only used one sick day since Mariemaia's debut. I only work Friday through Sunday, and the man thinks I'm working myself to death, go figure…"
"Good, it's settled! Get to the nearest shuttle port, pronto. I'll have someone out to get you asap!"
Trowa's eyes widened, and he held a hand up to the screen.
"But Quatre-"
But it was already too late; the blonde had ended the call.
Trowa gave an uneasy sigh.
"If he is all alone, where is he going to find a shuttle crew?"
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Trowa sat comfortably with his legs crossed in the lobby, against the wall as he waited for the Winner Corporation Shuttle to arrive. He had known better than to stay at 'home' when Quatre was as determined as he was, but that made waiting for a shuttle that might never come any easier.
It was half past noon when the shuttle finally arrived in the port, and Trowa knew immediately that he had his work cut out for him. It was obvious by the rickety landing the ship made, that Quatre had not found any of his shuttle crew, and had instead taken it upon himself to fly it single handedly.
Bracing himself, and taking a deep breath, he flashed the desk clerk his Winner Corporation flight pass, and walked out onto the run way to meet the blonde.
Quatre shakily stepped out onto the shuttle steps, and slumped down to sit on them as Trowa approached.
"They're flown by two pilots for a reason Quatre…"
Quatre gave a nervous laugh and nodded his head.
"I wasn't able to find any of my staff, even in the hanger, and couldn't find an outside pilot, let alone two on such short notice. I put it on auto pilot for the trip, but takeoff and landing were a little more traumatic than I had expected. Sandrock was a much smaller mobile suit and I knew its aerodynamics and flight capabilities. Still, I wasn't expecting so much trouble."
Trowa shook his head, and placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder.
"You are just lucky you got here in one piece, and that the runway is as wide as it is." He chuckled lightly. "At least I have had to pilot these on several occasions, and can help you land properly once we get back. I would hate to see you trying to explain to your staff why the shuttle is sticking out the side of the hanger walls…"
"It wasn't that bad!" He groaned, taking Trowa's hand.
The brunette helped him to his feet, and together they entered the shuttle to prepare for takeoff.
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Reviews are appreciated!