Disclaimer: the Gundam Wing characters do not belong to me, and unfortunately I don't have a Spanish villa either.

Note: this is for Wolfje, on request, in honour of her amazing Powers of Perception, and was proofed by the much overworked, much appreciated Kaeru Shisho.

Meditations on the Colour Blue:

Chang Wufei had been raised in the belief that anger over trivial things was an unworthy emotion. Twenty eight years dedicated to self-mastery and discipline had earned him an orderly life based around a successful academic career, and, recently, some fame as an author.

He would not allow himself to feel anger or annoyance over a petty matter of inconsiderate neighbours who played music - or some travesty of the art - at such a ridiculously high auditory level late at night.

Quatre had assured him that the villa on the southern coast of Spain would provide a haven of peace and tranquillity; the perfect place for a harried author to finish of his latest book. Nothing had been said about neighbours who appeared to think they were running a nightclub.

It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter.

It was just yet another irritation at the end of a long day. The taxi had been late; the driver annoyingly, persistently garrulous. His flight had been delayed for some reason that had never been explained. His fellow passengers had been noisy and the teenage girl next to him had spent the three hour flight with music throbbing out of her earphones.

Music….

It was intolerable.

Would it have hurt his neighbours to have just a little consideration for other people?

Wufei's headlong march up the neighbouring avenue was stopped abruptly by a uniformed security guard.

So pretentious…even Quatre didn't see the need to take precautions like that.

'This is a private party, sir. I'll need to see your invitation, if you please.'

'I need to see the owner of this house!' Wufei snapped. 'I have not the slightest desire to attend your party.'

'Private party, sir,' the guard repeated. 'Sorry. I'll have to insist that you leave if…'

'I insist on seeing the person who owns this house. Now! Or I'm calling the police about noise pollution.'

'Is there a problem?' The two men stopped glaring at each other for long enough to look at the newcomer. In Wufei's opinion, he looked exactly the type who would never consider the feelings of his neighbours. Ridiculously long hair in a braid, tight jeans and a scrap of black material that probably dared to call itself a shirt.

'Mr. Maxwell, he doesn't have an invitation,' the guard protested.

'Chill, Otto,' the young man drawled, pushing the door open. 'A guy who looks like this doesn't need to be invited to one of Zechs' parties! Well, come on. Aren't you coming in?'

He looked at Wufei with an oddly charming smile. 'I'm Duo. Sorry about that. Otto tends to be a bit over-zealous, and we've had reporters trying to sneak into the house all week.' He made a face. 'Zechs' little sister just got engaged to a Spanish count, and all the girly gossip mags are trying to get photos of them together.'

'How did you know I wasn't a reporter?'

Duo laughed. 'They try to sneak in pretending to be tradesmen and stuff. You stormed up our drive like a one-man cavalry charge. I saw you on one of our security cameras. Now, what's the big deal about you needing to see Zechs?'

'I'm here to complain about the noise level.' He'd meant to make his complaint rather more vehement, but it was difficult, faced with Duo's open friendliness. 'I'm staying next door and I am trying to work but…'

'Oh, shit! You're Trowa's friend? The writer?' Wufei nodded. 'Quat told us you were coming but he must have got the dates wrong. He said you'd be here tomorrow, and Zechs was planning to meet you at the airport.'

'I took an earlier flight.'

'Look, I'm really sorry about all this. I'll go and get the music turned down a bit, and Zechs will want to meet you and apologise. We promised Quat we'd keep an eye on you while you were here.'

'That's quite unnecessary,' Wufei said, bridling a little at the implication that he needed someone to … keep an eye on him. Typical Quatre, though. 'And I need to get back. I have work to do.'

'But you only just got here today! Why don't you at least come up and have a drink? Please?' Duo cast him a meltingly appealing look, oddly reminiscent of Quatre at his most persuasive.

'Duo? Is everything all right?'

The man was tall, blond hair; oddly familiar from somewhere. Deep voice with a slight foreign accent.

'Zechs, this is the guy Tro and Quat told us about. He got here early and he's already had to come over to complain about us making all this noise. Quatre's going to kill us.'

'Wufei, isn't it?' Wufei's hand was taken in a warm, firm clasp. 'I'm Milliardo Peacecraft - my friends call me Zechs - and I'm so very sorry we disturbed you. We had no idea there was anyone next door. I'll have the music turned down immediately. How can I make it up to you?'

'That won't be necessary,' Wufei thrust his hand into one pocket, not quite sure what else to do with it. He could still feel the press of those long fingers against his skin. He had the absurd impression that he would be able to see the imprints where they had touched him. 'I need to go.'

The walk back home was taken at a more leisurely pace. Milliardo Peacecraft, that was who the man was. Quatre had spoken about him, although Wufei had paid very little attention. He was staying at the villa to work, not to socialise.

He knew about the Peacecrafts, naturally; he'd seen their pictures plastered across magazines at the supermarket check-out. The family had ruled a tiny European principality for centuries; Sanque was now a democracy, absorbed into the European Union, but the Peacecrafts still held the titles, even if the power and palaces were long gone.

Milliardo had made a career for himself as a landscape designer who numbered celebrities among his clients, people who were probably more impressed by the title than his talents. His sister - Wufei couldn't remember her name - held some sort of minor diplomatic post at an embassy.

It was unimportant. He was here to work. Nothing more.

It was midnight by the time he finally settled down at his computer, and his powers of concentration, cultivated since childhood, failed him for once. It had been a long day; he was probably suffering from jet-lag and the loss of the routine that he'd kept for years.

It had nothing to do with a tall, blond man, and the press of his hand. Nothing.

Still, it might not hurt to take a shower and then spend some time in meditation.

Milliardo Peacecraft - Zechs, my friends call me Zechs - would take baths no doubt; long, leisurely affairs with champagne and a companion.

He and Duo were a couple, of course. He'd missed the signs earlier, but it was obvious when he thought about it. Duo had said we and us; he'd given orders to the security guard and invited Wufei inside.

He turned the shower to its coldest setting and let the icy spray wash the feel of that man's hand. He would get up at six - as usual - and begin work.

It didn't happen. He overslept, haunted by strange, half-remembered dreams, and nothing in the well-stocked kitchen seemed appealing, even though Trowa or Quatre had obviously given someone a list of what foods he liked.

Instead, he took up the reams of notes Quatre had left for him, detailing everything from instructions on cleaning the pool to restaurants he and Trowa liked - and followed the directions to a small bakery.

Follow the line of cypress trees from the beach along the sand track and cross the bridge….

The little shop was rich with warm, sweet, yeasty smells; somehow familiar although Wufei couldn't imagine how. All the women in his family were focussed on their careers; bread would only ever be baked as part of a scientific experiment on the properties of yeast.

He bought a loaf and two croissants and ate one on the way home, enjoying the flaky leaves of pastry and scattering crumbs for a hopeful crowd of sparrows.

He ate the second croissant, smeared with butter, on the terrace, planning his day. He needed to make a schedule, that was the thing.

After years of conforming to academic timetables, he needed to impose his own rules. This sabbatical wasn't a holiday; it was a one-off opportunity to spend time on his writing, away from the demands of teaching. The university had agreed to his taking the sabbatical; it always looked good when a member of their staff was published.

So. He would start work every morning at….no, it couldn't be ten, already. Surely not. It was.

Well, it was his first day. A little slackness was permissible on the first day. He still had several hours before lunch to work. Even if he didn't feel inspired, he could still read over the finished chapters. He could take his laptop on to the terrace and work there.

Damnation.

He'd read one particular paragraph five times and only on the final reading had he noticed a comma incorrectly placed. A tiny mistake, and one he or his editor would have picked up on, but he almost never made such errors. And never failed to notice them.

It was hard to concentrate here. There were swallows swooping overhead, and sparrows chirping, and unknown insects buzzing about the flowery garden. He didn't know the names of the flowers either; he'd have to find a book. And the pool looked so terribly tempting.

He would swim one hundred brisk lengths and then take a cold shower, another cold shower, and then get down to work. He hadn't bothered to pack swimming trunks, but his black briefs would suffice. It wasn't as if there was anyone to see.

He managed to swim perhaps a dozen before the distractions set in. Wufei had never swum in an outdoor pool, nor one which didn't smell and taste of chlorine. He was soon fascinated by the little ripples caused by the slight sea breeze, by the bright gleam of sunlight on water.

The swallows darting overhead and occasionally swooping low to catch insects reflected this blueness in their white breast feathers.

Wufei had studied the blue and white porcelain of the Chinese Imperial dynasties; he could date a piece by the shade of blue, but he'd never really paid any attention to the colour in nature.

Blue….

Peacecraft's eyes had been blue; a shade that not even those long ago Chinese artists had managed to replicate.

No, he wasn't going to think about that.

No.

It was ridiculous to be so affected by a stranger. It was just that he'd been tired and confused about all the sudden changes in his life. That was all.

Milliardo - call me Zechs - had a partner. He wouldn't be interested in someone like Wufei. And Wufei had a neatly ordered life based around work.

It was a good life; he loved his job, he loved teaching and writing and exploring the past. He had good friends, even if he didn't see Trowa so often now that the other man tended to travel with Quatre when he was free, and and Sally had accepted a position at a hospital in New York, but they were still there if he needed them.

There had been a few relationships but they'd never lasted too long. The longest had been with Trowa; he'd been devastated when the other man had told him gently that he wanted to break up, that he needed something more. He hadn't understood , then, what Trowa meant. He and Trowa were so compatible, with common interests and similar personalities.

The truth was, they probably were better off as just friends, even if Wufei had sometimes nurtured the hope that they might get back together, one day, once Trowa realised he was looking for something that didn't exist, not outside fairy tales and old black and white romances. Then Trowa had met Quatre and that had been that.

It had probably been the start of his restlessness, somehow, seeing those two together. The start of realising there were other possibilities in life. So he'd shocked his family and surprised his friends by taking a year's leave from his job, the perfect job he'd spent his whole life aiming for, and letting giving his apartment keys to a visiting professor from New Zealand, and buying a ticket to Spain.

Spain had been Trowa's idea; he'd grown up there, he loved the country, and he and Quatre had offered Wufei the use of a beach front villa for as long as he liked, for a nominal rent.

This was his life now, for the next few months at any rate.

Wufei turned over on his back, watching will o' the wisp clouds chase each other across a blazingly blue sky.

More blue…

Zechs' eyes had been a darker shade, he thought, although it had been hard to tell under artificial light.

'Wufei?'

For one stunned moment, Wufei thought he'd actually conjured the man up out of his imagination and his desire. But he was real, standing by the pool side. Casual today; denim shorts and a grey t-shirt and all that hair in a loose ponytail. He'd been standing there for how long? Watching him?

'What the hell are you doing here? This is private property! You're trespassing!'

'I'm sorry.' He didn't look particularly repentant though, that lush, lovely mouth quirking into a smile. 'All I seem to do is apologise to you.' He slid down to the ground, dangling those long, bare legs in the water. Wufei suppressed a desire to swim to the bottom of the pool and never come back up.

'I've been trying to call the house and no one answered. I thought I'd just drop by and see if you needed anything; Quatre and I have each other's security codes and I'm afraid we rather treat our homes as common property.'

'I don't need anything.' He might, Wufei thought, have been able to achieve a little more dignity if he hadn't been practically naked. And Zechs had seen him floating on his back and gazing at the clouds. 'I appreciate your concern but it is quite unnecessary.'

There. Was that enough of a dismissal?

'Wufei, I'm sorry if I disturbed you.' Another little smile. 'Do you think we could perhaps start this conversation again? Even if you weren't the guest of a close friend, it would be churlish of me not to make a new neighbour welcome. Particularly such an attractive one.'

Attractive…Wufei found he was blushing, ridiculously. He wasn't a schoolgirl. But Zechs was, well, attractive himself, and it had been so long since anyone looked at him like that. And the man was flirting with him.

'I was hoping you would come to lunch this afternoon? We are going to be neighbours for several months, I understand. We should get to know each other a little better, don't you think?'

'Duo won't mind you inviting me?' He meant it to sting; a reminder that Zechs had a perfectly good boyfriend of his own.

Instead, Zechs looked confused. 'Why would he mind?' Then he threw his head back and laughed. 'No, I promise you, Duo will be delighted to see you again. And his over- possessive partner, who happens to be my closest friend, would love to meet you. He's a great admirer of your books. So am I, actually.'

'Oh!' The blush was deepening; Wufei could feel it. The water was probably going to start boiling at any minute. 'In that case, then, yes. I would be delighted to accept.'

'Excellent. Now, are you going to come out of the water, or am I going to have to join you?'

It was utterly rude of him not to get out, to greet his guest properly. The problem was that his underwear, chosen for its natural fabric and breathable properties, was far too constricting. There was a tiny chance that it had shrunk in the water, and that the sudden feeling of tightness wasn't directly due to the handsome man who was casually lounging in front of him.

He couldn't get out of the water like that.

On the other hand, Zechs would have to strip off to swim, and Wufei wasn't sure if his precious, painstakingly-acquired self control would be able to deal with that.

'I'm coming out,' he decided abruptly. 'Perhaps you could hand me my towel?'

That was the best solution. He could attain a little more dignity if he was at least partially clothed, if one significant part of his anatomy was covered at least.

Ignoring the other man's outstretched hand, he pulled himself out, and reached for the towel.

Instead, Zechs moved closer, settling the towel around Wufei's hips himself, tucking one corner of the fabric under itself to secure it and in the process, brushing his fingers against bare, damp skin. Just the briefest of casual touches, but it sent a jolt of desire, almost painfully intense, through Wufei. It was so long since someone had touched him like that….and Zechs' hand was still resting lightly on the curve of his hip.

'Do I have to apologise for this also?' His eyes, glinting with amusement and glowing with reflected sunlight, were mesmerising. Those ancient Chinese potters had probably never even imagined such a shade. A sorrow for them.

'No.' It was the truth; he couldn't have lied, not with Zechs looking at him like that.

That mouth curved into a sinfully delicious smile; he'd been jst a little nervous before asking the question, Wufei realised suddenly. Not entirely sure of how the other man would answer.

'You look different with your hair down.' One hand reached up to brush a strand away from his face; he hadn't even noticed it was loose. His hair elastic must have loosened and fallen off in the water. 'Wufei, why did you run off last night?'

'I - I left,' Wufei informed him, choosing his words carefully. He hadn't run off; that was something a child might do. He had left to attend to his work. There had been no running. 'I told you I had work to do. I have publisher's deadlines; it's not like I'm here on holiday, to enjoy myself.'

Ah. That was a lie. He'd been enjoying every second of this unexpected day. Waking up to a bright blue sky instead of grey clouds, the short walk with the sun warm on his skin, the feel of the cool water. And he was very definitely enjoying the attentions of this man.

'What, no fun at all? That sounds rather dull.' One hand was still resting lightly on Wufei's hip; the other had moved to cup his chin, those long fingers stroking his jaw line.

Wufei wasn't sure which of them moved closer first, but he was suddenly standing in the circle of other man's arms, and the towel had somehow slipped free. Zechs obviously hadn't secured it very efficiently.

Those blue eyes, watching him, were dancing; captivating. Wufei normally detested being laughed at; if Zechs continued to look at him like that, he could find the sensation bearable.

'It is your first day here,' the tall man coaxed. 'I think you could indulge yourself a little. I've been wanting to kiss you ever since I saw you last night, you know. Wufei, may I? Please?'

Finis.