The Bachelor
Prologue
AC 201
L-4 Colony Cluster
"The…the Bachelor?"
Quatre Raberba Winner looked from the papers sitting on his desk to the impish violet eyes of Duo Maxwell and decided he felt a definite sense of foreboding. Especially when the papers in front of him were embossed and smelled faintly of roses. Of course, the name of the popular reality television show on the top and the engraved name of the network didn't quell those unsettling feelings. Duo was beaming, obviously enjoying his friend's discomfort. For years Quatre and Duo had been good friends and more recently, business partners, and it was because of that Duo thought that he knew what was best for his young, single friend.
On the other hand, Quatre had certainly never expected to be presented with this little matchmaking plan, and the expression on his face must have said so. Duo laughed and scooped up the papers.
"I thought you might find the idea intriguing. You're rich and charismatic, so I'm sure the ratings would soar…and who knows, you might even find a great girl," he said, settling opposite Quatre. They were reclining in Quatre's private office at Winner Enterprises' main L-4 branch. It was spacious, comfortable, but very much a man's place. No pictures adorned the desk, the only things on the walls were a simple, tasteful clock and a boring, plain calendar. The desk that Quatre was seated behind was a rich mahogany and well-polished, and it was also covered in paperwork. A state-of-the-art computer was settled among the stacks and had put itself on stand-by, so pictures of Quatre's sisters flicked across the screen at regular intervals. The window behind them let in a wealth of sunshine and a spectacular view of the city. A heavily-laden bookshelf rested in the corner, complete with large volumes of books that Duo knew Quatre hadn't read. It was a comfortable, nice room, but it wasn't Quatre's room. It lacked the man's personality and it was clearly decorated by someone else. It was high time that the young Arabian had someone to add a more personal touch to every aspect of his life. Including his work place.
"I don't know, Duo." Quatre leaned back and frowned slightly at his American friend. "It's not something I'd normally consider, and I'd end up hurting a lot of perfectly nice women. Besides," he added thoughtfully, "I'm not sure I'm ready to be married."
Duo chortled in amusement, regarding his companion. "Quat, if anyone's ready to get married, it's you."
A reluctant smirk curved Quatre's lips. "Point. But still, I rarely even date. What if I don't pick the right girl?"
"That's a dilemma we all face, bud. Besides, I know you. You like the idea of having someone in your life to love and care for ya. That's just who you are."
The slight curve of Quatre's lips bloomed into a smile.
"We've been friends for too long," he told the American, and Duo grinned smugly.
"I'm telling you, I'm irresistible."
The two shared a laugh. It was good to hear Quatre laugh again. Though out of the five of the ex-Gundam pilots Quatre was the most optimistic, he had recently fallen into a slight depression. He wasn't eating right, and he'd already been a bit slender. Overall, however, Quatre had matured into a very good looking man. He'd put on several inches, reaching a comfortable height of 5'8". His hair remained nearly unchanged, though sometimes Quatre slicked it back. His jaw had squared and the remaining baby fat had melted from his cheeks, leaving well-defined and high cheekbones, and giving him a classically handsome look. When he was dressed in his business suit, he was the perfect poster-boy for young, successful, and handsome entrepreneurs. With his big aquamarine eyes and easy smile, he had looks that women melted for. He had a nice build as well, since he'd joined Duo's gym habit nearly two years before. His twenty-first birthday had recently passed and he should by all means have been enjoying his privileged existence, but Duo knew that his friend wasn't throwing caution to the wind and living life to the fullest.
"Maybe you should be doing this show, Duo," Quatre said at last. Duo shook his head and beamed.
"Oh no, I'm not the one that needs romantic help. Girls are already all over me. They'd be all over you, too, if you ever left the office."
"Would you like to do my paperwork, then?"
"Not on your life, buddy," Duo retorted, and chuckled.
"Didn't think so. Worth a shot though."
"Now, stop trying to change the subject. Come on, how 'bout it? You know you kind of want to."
Quatre shook his head. "You're relentless."
"Stubborn as a bulldog," Duo agreed amicably. "Look, it's not like you have to marry this girl, you know? You could just date her for a while."
The Arabian reached for the papers and Duo handed them over, trying not to look too pleased. He watched his friend look the over the documents, shake his head, and sigh.
"I'm going to regret this," he said. Duo beamed and leaned back his chair.
"You'll have tons of support. I even got the others to agree to come out here and back you."
Quatre's blue eyes flashed with humor. "Wufei is never going to let me live this down."
"None of us will," Duo replied, still beaming, "but it's just because we're jealous."
"I can't believe I'm doing this," the other muttered, and signed his name to the papers. "I must be crazy."
"Or gullible." Duo laughed. "But whatever you are, you'll be having fun once this all gets started."
"If I don't, you'll be answering for it."
"I knew you'd say that," the American laughed. "I promise you will."
Quatre leaned back in his chair again and let his eyes drift to the window. "Maybe you're right," he said after a moment. "Maybe I should be out there living more. It seems like I've been so…cooped up lately. I'm turning into my father." He frowned. "And I'm not sure I like that."
The American snorted. "Who would? Your dad was a workaholic. But you're not like him, Quat. You're not antisocial and you're very affectionate. Which is why the guys and I don't understand how it is you're still single."
Quatre grinned, regarding his friend in wry amusement. "I," he said with a slight flourish of his pianist's hand, "have turned out to be a bit of a workaholic myself. Though…" His eyes fell on the stacks of paperwork piled on his desk. "Not entirely by choice."
"Then this will be good for you," Duo insisted, rising gracefully to his feet. "I'll leave you to your work now. I'm sure the network will be calling you soon."
Quatre rolled his eyes dramatically. "What have you gotten me into?"
"Nothing I wouldn't get myself into first," the other replied, and with a quick wave and a flash of braid, the American was gone, leaving Quatre to his quiet, impersonal office and piles of cold, impersonal paper. Feeling the stirrings of the now all-too-familiar depression beginning to tug on his soul, Quatre reached for the first stack and hoped that Duo was right about becoming the next Bachelor. He was running out of options.
One Week Later
AC 201
Sahara Desert, Earth
"So, I'm going to be staying in a privately owned villa in a gorgeous oasis in the middle of the desert?" Quatre glanced at the show's host and grinned in contagious good humor. "I could think of worse places to spend the next two months."
"Yes, and the family has agreed to allow you full reign of the estate as long as you don't trash the place or throw wild parties."
"No problem," Quatre agreed. "And you're sure it's okay that the others stay with me?"
Chris Harrison nodded and smiled at the young Bachelor. "It's completely fine, and it shouldn't really affect the show at all, anyway, since most of the footage is shot in the girls' villa. That's about two miles away from yours, just to let you know. And your friends might actually come in handy for interviews with the ladies later. It was an excellent suggestion on your part, Quatre."
Quatre smiled back at the show's host. "Thanks, but the credit should go to Duo. He's the one that wrangled the other three up."
Shrugging nonchalantly, Chris lifted his glass to Quatre. "To life's surprising twists."
"Cheers," the Arabian replied, grinning at all the implications that statement took. Their glasses clinked together pleasantly and Quatre took a slow sip of the champagne. It was nice to relax for a moment and not think of anything but the feel of a crystal glass in his hand and a warm bath awaiting when he arrived at his destination. For too long he'd let others decide who he could be with. Now he could choose. At least, from 25 assorted women waiting for him in a lush green paradise.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw that the scenery around the limo had changed from dunes upon large, yellow dunes to groves of green trees and lush grass. The oasis stretched for miles, and seemed from his vantage point the ultimate paradise. Pools of cool, glassy water reflected blue sky, fed by waterfalls that sprouted from rock hills. It didn't look like the desert at all, but a tropical island. Simply one surrounded by sand rather than the depths of the ocean. He watched a breeze ripple across a nearby grove and smiled.
"You know, I might actually enjoy this after all, Mr. Harrison."
The young host flashed his dashing smile. "I think you'll find it's everything you hoped. You can call me Chris, you know."
"Thank you. Please call me Quatre."
Chris tipped his glass in a salute to the Arabian and turned as the driver announced their arrival. The limo glided up a smooth driveway to stop in front of a gorgeous, lush estate.
"Welcome," Chris said as the two got out of the low backseat, "to the latest Bachelor Pad."
"Remind me to tell Duo thank you," Quatre replied with a laugh. "It's wonderful."
"Come on, let's get you settled in. Tomorrow's when the real fun starts."
Quatre followed Chris inside and gaped at the grand staircase. It flowed almost effortlessly up to the second floor in a graceful curve. It was a magnificent structure of highly shined white marble, and replicas of Greek statues rested on either side of its base. The ceiling soared above it, and a mural made it seem as if the rooms walls opened to nothing but a cherub-filled sky. Rather than a family estate, Quatre got the distinct impression that he was standing in the entryway to a small palace. He half expected to see a fountain as he and Chris moved up the stairs and down an ornate hall to the vast main bedchamber. It was much to grand too be referred to as a bedroom.
"I thought my place was a little extravagant…" Quatre trailed off as he examined the curtained four-poster bed. "What a place. Are you sure this is someone's home?"
Chris laughed. "I was a little taken aback myself, but it's not just any home--it was once a winter home for the Peacecraft family. It's only recently been restored by Millardo Peacecraft as a present to his sister. She doesn't spend much time here, but many of the families that used to serve the royals do. You'll find the staff is quite knowledgeable."
"So this is Ms. Relena's place…she did mention something about a winter retreat. I kind of thought it looked like a palace."
"Well, for the next few weeks, it's your palace." The host moved to the windows and heaved open the heavy curtains, revealing a breathtaking view of most of the oasis. The window stretched across most of the room's west wall, and he could see the other mansion nestled next to a beautiful pool of waterfall-fed water.
"Is that estate Ms. Relena's too?" the Arabian asked, gesturing. Chris glanced at it and shook his head.
"It's her brother's. It's where Mr. Peacecraft plans to vacation. It's not quite finished yet, but the construction is near completion and was ceased for us to film the ladies in action."
"The Peacecrafts have more resources than I thought. I wonder why Ms. Relena hasn't said anything to me."
Quatre really wasn't talking to anyone but himself, so Chris let the comment go unanswered. He headed for the door.
"I'll leave you to unpack. I've made sure you've got a wake-up call…it's going to be quite a day for you."
"Thanks, Chris. See you tomorrow."
"You betcha." With one last smile, the host left Quatre to himself. The young man flopped down onto his bed and let out a sigh, then began unpacking. The other guys would be arriving in the morning, and the ladies that evening, so he had a lot to prepare himself for. Still thinking himself crazy for even agreeing to be on the show, he began filling the closet.
The Next Morning
The morning brought warm sunshine and cool breezes, and the closest friends Quatre ever had. He stood outside in khaki shorts and a slightly buttoned sky-blue shirt, his face lifted to the breeze and his eyes all but shut as he waited for their limo. It arrived a few moments later, and the four men clamored out into the sunlight, blinking. Duo was the first out, and he grinned widely while taking in the impressive view. The American cowboy in him was obviously ready to get out and explore. His three-and-a-half foot long braid flapped slightly in the breeze, the sun highlighting the few golden strands in his otherwise chestnut-colored hair. He was about five inches taller than the Arabian, and slim but muscular. He shaded his brilliant violet eyes and moved toward Quatre for a manly slap on the back.
Heero Yuy was next, his piercing cobalt-blue eyes scanning the area systematically before he too moved to join Quatre. The eyes were an unusual shade for one of Japanese descent, but there wasn't much about Heero that followed conventional rules. His dark hair remained unruly and he was as slender as ever, though he was as unbendable as solid steel. He had grown taller as well, and stood about even to Duo. His face was expressionless, but there was a flicker in his eyes that hinted of his amusement at the situation. He approached his friend in steady, long strides and even clasped Quatre's hand in affectionate greeting. His lips flickered into a slight smile that Quatre returned.
After Heero, Trowa Barton stepped out. He'd remained the tallest of the five, and his visible emerald green eye flicked over the surrounding area without much interest. He turned, his classically handsome face breaking into a smile at the sight of his old friend. His hair, almost mahogany in color, still seemed to defy gravity, and he'd maintained his excellent build. He moved forward with grace and confidence, and nodded to Quatre in silent greeting. He placed a large hand on the Arabian's shoulder, a hand that conveyed warmth and understanding, and in that emerald eye was a fountain of hard-won wisdom and compassion. Quatre placed his own, more delicate hand over his friend's and smiled in return, suddenly all the more grateful for Trowa's arrival.
Last out was Chang Wufei, whose intelligent midnight-colored eyes came to rest immediately on Quatre. He seemed to assess the blonde man for a long moment, then turned his appreciative gaze to the view spread before them. His hair, as black and soft as a raven's wing but as smooth and silky as a kitten's fur, was down and flowed with the light breeze. His body, which was well-disciplined from years of rigorous training, moved seamlessly as he joined the others. He was Chinese, and very proud, but he had come to consider Quatre one of his closest friends and had many times come to the other's rescue. Though opinionated, he would never cease to fight for what he thought was right, a trait that Quatre had long admired. As the last of his companions joined him, Quatre welcomed them to Relena's vacation home and led them inside.
"Your rooms are near mine for simplicity's sake. It's a little confusing in here, but our rooms are straight up the stairs and down the main hall. I'm meeting the ladies tonight, but until then we've got hours to fill." He smiled at them all. "And we've got a lot to catch up on."
Wufei smiled. "This is a crazy idea, Winner, but if anyone can pull it off, it's you."
The blonde smiled ruefully and said simply, "I hope so."
Heero took the lead, as he so often had during the wars in the past, and soon the small group found themselves lounging in a parlor in lush recliners. The young men hadn't seen each other very often since the conclusion of the Mariamaia war five years previous, but they all felt as relaxed as if they'd never parted. Quatre kept up a quiet but interesting conversation while Duo kidded and Wufei commented, leaving Heero and Trowa to their customary silence. It was comfortable. Perhaps unusual to the unenlightened observer, but comfortable.
"I'm glad you're all here. I'm going to need your help and support," Quatre said, feeling much more relaxed now that his old comrades were near. Trowa chuckled deeply.
"You have it," he said. Duo was quick to insert his own acceptance.
"Sure…besides, we're here to snatch up your castoffs," the American announced.
"Americans," Heero muttered, and Wufei laughed.
"Maxwells," he returned, and Quatre laughed out loud.
"Feels just like old times," he commented.
"Almost too much," Duo retorted, but was all smiles only moments later.
"So…who's going to help me decide what to wear?" the Arabian asked, and escorted his friends to his room.