Chapter 1
Heero stood from his chair. "Cora's birthday party is on a Friday in a few weeks. Any chance you'll be able to make it?"
Quatre walked around his desk, looking over some files as he went. "Should," he replied. "I'd planned on it anyway."
"Relena's going to be sending out specifics in any day now," Heero added in afterthought as Quatre walked him out.
"I'll keep my eye out," Quatre said. "Heero." Heero paused and turned to Quatre. "Thanks for stopping by."
"You should really start dating again,"
Quatre fitted Heero with a pointed and playfully annoyed expression. "You can go away now."
"Alright," Heero said with a shrug and a small smile. Quatre turned around and walked back toward his office. "Friday," Heero called after him. Quatre waved him off dismissively.
Quatre's assistant looked up as Heero started walking past. "He really does appreciate the visit, Mr. Yuy." Heero stopped and looked down at the guy sitting at his desk.
"He still doesn't get out much, does he?"
The assistant shook his head. "He just works all the time. He enjoys what he does, don't get me wrong. He believes in the work he's directing, even if he isn't doing the engineering himself," the guy said. "But I don't think he'll ever be interested in anyone else."
"They always did fit well together," Heero mused, half-turning toward Quatre's closed door. "Quatre's just got cold feet. He'll bounce back. He's a sociable guy."
"Who works ninety hours a week. There's a reason he doesn't go out."
A loud crash sounded from Quatre's office. Both men's heads whipped around to stare in the direction of the noise. In an instant, Heero was running back the way he'd come. "Call the paramedics," Quatre's assistant yelled as he followed in close pursuit.
Heero slammed into the door, busting it open. He paused in the doorway, looking for the cause of the ruckus. His eyes zeroed in on Quatre's legs sticking out from behind his desk. His chair was tipped over on its side. Papers were everywhere. Quatre had obviously tried to catch himself as he'd fallen. With a low curse, Heero rushed over. Quatre was laying on his back, eyes closed, clearly unconscious.
"Quatre," he called out as he dropped to his knees next to his friend and checked his pulse. It was strong if a bit irregular. He was breathing, though, so at least CPR wasn't needed."Quatre?" He gently tapped the side of Quatre's face, trying to wake him up. "Quatre! Quatre wake up."
Suddenly someone in white was beside him. He looked up as a paramedic knelt beside him, asking questions and getting to work. Heero got out of the way as Quatre's assistant spouted off answers. Quatre was pale. Always thin, he suddenly looked frail to Heero. In the seventeen years they'd known each other, Quatre had never suddenly collapsed.
He watched as the paramedics put an oxygen mask over Quatre's face, hooked him up to an IV, and put him on a stretcher. "I'm coming with you," he told them as he followed alongside through the office and into the elevator.
"I'll follow," Quatre's assistant called after him, holding a cell phone away from his ear. "I'll meet you at the hospital."
He stared at Quatre as they rode the elevator down. What are you doing to yourself, Quatre, he asked silently.
Half an hour later, Heero and Quatre's assistant were waiting outside Quatre's hospital room in the emergency room. The doctor, along with a couple of medical students were currently in there with him.
Heero leaned against the wall, arms crossed and brooding while Quatre's assistant paced back and forth, constantly messing with his phone. Texting, calling, rearranging things, and fielding questions. Pretty much reorganizing his boss' life while he was unconscious.
Over the course of the ride over in the ambulance and the twenty minutes waiting outside the room as the doctors pulled bloodwork and ran their tests, Heero had been replaying the events over in his head. Something wasn't right. Quatre's collapse had been surprising, certainly alarming. But something nagged at the back of his brain. Something didn't feel right.
"What's wrong with him?" Heero asked.
Quatre's assistant stopped in his tracks, looking up from his phone. "What do you mean?"
Heero glared at him. Did the guy really think he was stupid? "That's not the first time this has happened," Heero accused.
Quatre's assistant spread his hands in helplessness. "I'm not his doctor."
"No, you just schedule his life. You've been with him for nine years. What happened up in that office wasn't panic from watching your boss inexplicably collapse. That was procedure," Heero shot back quietly. "So I'll ask you again, what's wrong with him?"
Quatre's assistant opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the doctor and his entourage walked out. "He's awake," the doctor said.
"Exhaustion?" Quatre's assistant asked.
"Marney's asking?"
Quatre's assistant nodded. "She's on her way, but she's already getting questions."
The doctor sighed. "Tell her he has an acute case of anemia. He's getting fluids. We're running a range of tests just to be thorough, but he should be cleared to go home later today."
Alarm bells went off in Heero's head. That wasn't normal. An emergency doctor knowing Quatre, Quatre's assistant, and Quatre's PR lady well enough to freely offer what sounded like a quote for attribution. This has happened before, he thought. And this isn't the first time the media's asked questions.
"We can go in?" Heero asked. The doctor nodded.
"Barring complications, he'll be able to leave in a few hours." Heero pushed himself away from the wall and walked into the room. Quatre's assistant followed.
Sitting up in his hospital bed, Quatre looked contrite as they walked in. He was still pale, but it looked like his color was starting to come back and his eyes were clear and bright, a stark contrast to the ominous machines attached to the guy. An IV was sticking out of the top of his left hand. A heart monitor beeped behind him, clinical and sterile. His rhythm looked like it had normalized.
"You look better," Heero said. "Compared to being unconscious anyway."
"You really know how to flatter a guy," Quatre quipped back, albeit weakly.
Heero pulled a chair up next to him, leaning his arms on his knees. "What's wrong, Quatre?"
Quatre dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap, huffing a small, sad laugh. "You know everything, don't you?" Heero didn't respond. Just stared at his friend.
"Mr. Winner," Quatre's assistant ventured carefully. Quatre looked up, meeting his eyes.
"Marney's coming?"
"Yes, sir."
"Let us have the room?"
Quatre's assistant nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Quatre's eyes dropped back down to his hands. "How'd you know?" he asked.
"Your staff," Heero answered simply. "They were scared, but not panicked. This isn't the first time this has happened, is it?" Quatre shook his head. When he didn't elaborate, Heero pressed further. "Quatre, what…?"
"Meningioma," Quatre interrupted quietly.
"What?" Heero asked in confusion. "What is that?"
"Brain tumor," Quatre answered, refusing to look at Heero.
"Is it…?" he couldn't finish the sentence.
"Cancer?" Quatre supplied, glancing up from under his long bangs. "Not typically, but...yes."
"Cancer's not that bad. Not anymore anyway."
Most forms of cancer were treatable thanks to decades of medical advances turning it into a chronic illness. Rarely was cancer terminal these days.
"It's terminal, Heero."
Heero leaned back in his seat, staring at Quatre with surprise. The information was slow to sink in. After what felt like eons, Heero collected himself enough to consider the problem. The odds of any cancer being fatal had to be less than one percent. "How…" he started to ask.
Quatre shrugged. "I'm just lucky that way, I guess."
Heero looked away for a moment before returning his gaze to his friend. Quatre was too calm. He'd already known about this. Had to have. He looked at him critically. "How long?"
"Hmm?" Quatre asked, not following.
"How long have you known?"
Quatre stared down at his hands again. "About the cancer being terminal? Two years."
"Two years?" he asked in disbelief.
"Found out about the tumors three years ago."
"Three?! Jesus, Quatre!"
Quatre continued to stare at his hands, refusing to face him. He slumped in his chair, putting a hand in front of his mouth. Partially in thought. Partially to keep himself from saying something he'd regret later.
"Why didn't you tell anybody? How the hell did you keep something like that a secret?" he asked. Quatre wasn't exactly a good liar. Playing poker with him hadn't ever really been fair to the guy.
"It's not like we see each other all that much," Quatre replied demurely. "Besides, I didn't collapse that much in the beginning."
"This happens often?"
"Not that often."
"Often enough for your staff to be prepared." Heero couldn't quite keep the accusatory bite out of his voice. Quatre looked away but said nothing. "Who all knows?"
"My doctors, obviously. My assistant, my sisters who handle company business, and core work staff. Father had a pretty strict no media policy when it came to us kids growing up, so everyone has already been well schooled in keeping the information away from the media." The air hung heavily between them. The next question was obvious.
"How long?"
Quatre hesitantly looked up at Heero. "Nine months. Maybe less."
The full weight of that answer descended upon him like a meteor crashing down on his head. "That's why you were so adamant about everyone being at your birthday party last year?"
Quatre nodded. "I'm not likely to get another, but I didn't want people to start acting weird that soon."
He stared at Quatre thoughtfully as he processed everything. He was looking at one of his closest friends and in a year from now, he wouldn't be here anymore. After years of being raised as a soldier, growing up around war and death, and finally finding stability and respite in the peace he'd helped create, he had never prepared himself to lose someone so close so soon.
"Quatre," he said quietly. Quatre faced him, if somewhat bashfully. "You're going to have to start telling people."
Quatre's big blue eyes were sad but resigned. They shone with unshed tears. " I know," he said softly.
Heero stood up slowly, then handed Quatre his phone. Quatre took it without a word. Heero put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze before leaving the room.
Quatre stared at the phone for a long while, working up the courage to do what he'd put off long enough. He sighed and dialed a number he knew by heart. It went to voicemail. Not surprising. It was still the middle of the day. Riyadh was only three hours ahead of L4 time. Everyone was likely to be at prayer right about now if they were even awake at all.
"Rashid," he said to the recording. He stared at his blanket and picked at something invisible in the strands. "I know you're probably asleep or in prayer, but…when you get this, I need you to set up a conference call with everyone."
Quatre could hear his voice start to falter. He looked up at the ceiling, working hard not to break down over the phone. He'd known this would be difficult, whenever he got around to finally doing it. He'd put it off long enough. Too long probably.
"It's important," he continued. "And I don't want to have to repeat myself. I'll be around, so call when you can."
He paused, debating on whether or not to say more before hanging up. With relief, he let out a long, shaky breath. And that's the easy part, he told himself. He'd have to do better at keeping himself together when Rashid called back and had everyone on the other end of the line. He'd need to put on a brave front. He'd known about his condition for years already. He'd had time to adjust. He needed to show them it would be okay.
One more time, he needed to lead his men.
A soft knock brought his attention back to the present. His doctor poked his head in before stepping fully into the room. "Mr. Winner…"
A light knock on the door woke him up with a start. The lights were off, but he could still see Heero's form lounging in the chair next to his hospital bed. Heero shuffled around in his seat, untangling himself from what looked to be a blanket. One of the nurses must have brought one for him. Quatre pushed himself up into a sitting position as Heero turned on the lights and opened the door.
Rashid walked in. Tall, muscular, broad in the shoulder, and trim in the waist, Rashid had a strong, square jaw with a full, neatly trimmed beard that made him look like an upside-down version of Wolverine. Dressed in traditional harem-style pants, loose cotton shirt, and open vest, the big man was a modern representation of his traditional Lebanese heritage.
He hadn't expected Rashid to show up in person. He was supposed to be in Riyadh, not in space.
Unless he was dreaming. Which was possible. The doctor had seen something he didn't like in his bloodwork, so they'd kept him overnight. He didn't know what time it was, but it felt early.
He should be telling all the Maguanacs in person, he had to admit that. But every one of his men had their own lives, their own families, to see to. Getting everyone together at the same time, in the same place, might be next to impossible and time, it seemed, had finally become a factor.
He couldn't avoid it anymore. Couldn't pretend he was just sick. Heero was right. He needed to start telling people. The Maguanacs had followed him through so much. They needed to be first.
A single, mass-conference phone call was, logistically, the best way to tell them all at once about his condition. As difficult as he expected that to be, he'd thought that he'd at least dodged the worst of it, albeit selfishly, by not having to address them all in person.
It seemed he wouldn't be that lucky.
"Master Quatre." Rashid's voice was strained. He looked tired and distraught.
Definitely not a dream.
"Hey," he replied meekly.
"Why wasn't I informed immediately that you collapsed?" he asked.
Quatre withered. "I thought you were in Riyadh," he answered lamely. Quatre's assistant poked his head in from the hallway.
"I couldn't stop him from coming in, sir," he said apologetically. Quatre shook his head with a small smile.
"No one stops Rashid from doing anything."
"Master Quatre, I was in Riyadh last week," Rashid said. "I'm up here for the next two weeks. We talked about this just a few nights ago when I was waiting for my flight at that spaceport."
Quatre frowned. He didn't remember that at all. The last time he'd talked to Rashid was...several weeks ago, maybe? Was his memory really getting that bad? Sure, Bryan had to remind him of things more than he used to, but Rashid being up in the colonies was something he should remember.
"I'm getting coffee," Heero said, glancing at his watch before leaving the room, taking the assistant with him.
"Bryan?" Quatre's assistant stuck his head back into the room with Heero pausing to stare at him in the middle of the doorway. "I'll need Albatross. As soon as you can get it." Quatre's assistant nodded and left, with Heero closing the door behind them.
Rashid set him with a suspicious look. "What is Albatross? Sounds like a codename in a spy novel."
Quatre ignored the question. "How did you know I was here?" he asked, returning his attention to Rashid.
Rashid seemed to weight his options. Push the issue or let him steer the subject. Thankfully, he allowed the latter. "You called on Heero's phone. I recognized the number," Rashid said as he brought a chair next to his bed and sat down. "I called back and he answered. What happened?"
Quatre looked into the eyes of his long-time friend and confidante. His courage faltered. How could he tell this man he loved, who had become a second father to him, that he was going to have to watch him die? How could he possibly ask him to do what he needed him to?
Quatre looked away, unable to meet his friend's gaze any longer.
"Master Quatre?" Rashid's voice, strong and gentle, compelled him to look back up.
"You're not going to like it."
"What does that mean?" Abdul's voice grated against his nerves. He massaged his head above his temple with his free hand. The nurse really needed to come back and give him another tramadol. His head was about to split in two and this conversation wasn't getting any easier.
"Master Quatre?!" And there was Auda. Their voices stabbed his brain like ice picks.
"Keep your voices down. He can hear you." Rashid's voice came through the line like a low roll of thunder. The command was as effective as lightning. The line went quiet as the 39 former soldiers plus their financial backer, Commander Sada Ul, waited for what was about to come next.
He wasn't sure what to say. In all the scenarios he'd run through in his head, he'd never been able to fully anticipate just how difficult it would be to form the words.
Over the last couple of hours, he'd explained himself to Rashid. It was seven in the morning and Rashid had been able to corral the others faster than he'd anticipated. He hadn't had time to collect himself between telling Rashid and connecting with the other Maguanacs.
He was exhausted. His head hurt, making it difficult to think straight, and he had to once again find the courage to speak the painful truth.
Still, in his hospital bed, he looked up from the blanket he'd been staring at. He met Rashid's eyes with a resignation he also found in Rashid. "I'm dying," he said quietly. Rashid's eyes never left his. "I won't be here in December." That was certain. He wouldn't live to see thirty-three.
Rashid slowly closed his eyes and bowed his head, unable to keep the tears from running down his face, even as he continued to hold his phone to his ear.
Quatre also looked back down. He couldn't stand the sight of Rashid, a living pillar of stability in his life, looking so defeated. Guilt squeezed his insides, making it difficult to breathe.
Silence stretched on without a word from anyone. Quatre had no words of comfort to give them. No false promises. They'd been with him for almost twenty years. They'd know he was lying.
"You should come to my villa next month, if not sooner." Commander Sada Ul told him. Reflexively, Quatre looked to Rashid who met his eyes again and nodded. His friend's eyes were clear and focused, despite the dampness left by his tears.
It was doable. Everything to facilitate a smooth transition of power from himself to his sisters had been put in place over a year and a half ago. All he had to do was sign the papers.
He'd had plans to spend his final days at his family's own desert mansion anyway and he wasn't likely to be able to run the company much longer either. He saw no real downside to going down to Earth earlier than originally planned.
"Yeah, sure," he said tiredly. Rashid must have picked up on it because he promptly guaranteed that they would make plans in the next few days to come down. It was a relief when Rashid ended the call.
Quatre automatically followed Rashid's example and hung up Heero's phone. It was like he'd forgotten what he'd been doing. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't focus. He stared blankly at the phone for he didn't know how long. Time didn't seem to exist anymore.
"Master Quatre?" Rashid's voice filtered into his brain where it slowly processed. He looked up into the man's face. Rashid was fixed on him, worry etched in the crease of his brow and the wideness of his intelligent eyes.
All of a sudden he snapped back. "Rashid," he said, his voice soft, but clear.
"Yes, Master Quatre?"
"I know it's not a fair ask," he said before looking back down. He had to take a breath. It wasn't fair. He was dying. Nothing about that reality would be easy under any circumstances, but Rashid had turned into a second father over the years and he needed him.
He fought back tears and took another shaky breath. What he was about to ask wasn't fair. He looked back up into Rashid's ever-patient face. "It's selfish and unfair, but I…"
Rashid's features softened. "I'll be here."
His heart nearly burst. How the man knew him. He owed everything to Rashid. The smile that flitted across his face was one of love and gratitude. He hoped Rashid knew just how much he loved him. He would have to make sure he did.
The door to his room opened, pulling both Quatre's and Rashid's attention and revealing Heero and the doctor. "Good news," the doctor said, looking over his chart. "The bloodwork we were concerned about came back and I like what I see. There was a spike in your white blood cells," he began to say.
"Infection?" Rashid asked.
The doctor looked at him. "We were afraid of that, so we took another draw yesterday and kept him overnight. Hence why he's still here."
"But he's fine?"
"Aside from dying anyway," Heero asked with dark sarcasm. Everyone looked at him.
Leaning against the wall in a corner, with his arms crossed, the guy didn't seem to mind the unenthused glares he received from Rashid and the doctor. Quatre, on the other hand, couldn't hide the weak smile that crossed his face and it was difficult, but he managed not to laugh. Which was good because laughing wouldn't do his splitting head any favors.
The doctor looked back to Rashid and then Quatre. "Yes. Aside from the cancer, you're fine. No infection. You're free to go home. The discharge papers are at the nurse's station."
"I can fly?" Quatre asked.
The doctor nodded slowly. "I'd like to give you a broad spectrum vaccine and a B12 shot to boost your immune system if you were to fly, but yes. You are physically capable of flying. So long as you're not the one actively doing the flying."
"We're looking at toward the end of the month," Rashid said.
The doctor looked between them. "We can go ahead and set up an appointment to get those things done a day or two before you leave."
"Cora's birthday," Quatre said, looking to Rashid.
"The twenty-ninth," Heero added.
"We can leave on the twenty-sixth or seventh," Rashid answered. "Visit Heero and Relena for the party and go to Sada Ul's after."
"I'll have one of the nurses set you up with an appointment on the twenty-fourth," the doctor said before turning around and leaving.
"Well, that's that then," Quatre said, reaching his hand out for his clothes. "Let's get out of here." Heero pushed himself away from the wall and handed him his things.
"I'll go talk to the nurse," Rashid said as he stood up and left the room.
Heero watched him critically as he got changed. He glanced up at him. "Expect me to do a trick?" he asked as he looked down at his shirt as he buttoned up.
"Just making sure you're not going to pass out again."
Touche.
"Fair enough," he replied. He had to sit back down to put his shoes on.
"Seems like it didn't go that badly."
"You're not inside my head."
"Headache?"
"If wishing made it so."
"Migraine?"
Quatre nodded, pressing fingers against his eyes. That didn't help, so he opened them again and came face to face with Heero's shirt. He looked up. Heero was holding out a small bottle of water and an orange pill bottle. "They refilled your prescription while you were asleep."
"You're a saint." He snatched the bottle up and downed a pill. He heard Rashid outside talking to the nurse. He was tired of hospitals. He couldn't wait to get out of here.
"Quatre," Heero said as he stood up."You know what you're doing, right?"
Quatre looked up at him with annoyance. "Do you really think there's a manual on how to die?" he snapped.
"I know you need to do things in the best way for you."
He wasn't quite sure what Heero was leading up to here. "But?"
"And I don't want to tell you what to do, but…" Realization dawned on him. He knew what Heero was about to say.
"So don't," he said, cutting him off.
Heero's expression turned from solemn acceptance to disagreement. "You need to tell him, Quatre."
"I don't need to do anything," he replied, moving toward the door, casually slipping his hands in his pockets.
"Quatre."
He turned around. "I need you to stay out of this, Heero. You can't tell him."
Heero frowned, showing his displeasure. "He might be at the party, Quatre."
"Might?" he asked as they walked out into the hall and made their way towards Rashid.
"He might," Heero repeated, signaling him to hold up with a touch to the arm. Heero stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. Their eyes met, deep blue met his own aquamarine. Heero knew his past relationship with Trowa was a touchy subject.
They'd been together for years before eventually falling apart. It hadn't been anyone's fault, really. It just happened to be a casualty of two people who held demanding, time-consuming jobs.
They'd avoided each other for a while, letting the dust settle and giving wounds time to heal. Slowly, they'd walked back down the path of friendship. Aside from keeping his disease a secret, they were as close as they'd ever been. Together or not, they were soul mates. He truly believed that.
They both still cared about each other and Trowa had made it clear that he was willing to try again if he was. But he had been timid, gun shy, about becoming romantically involved a second time and Trowa hadn't pressed the issue. And now...he didn't see much point in getting involved now.
The last thing he wanted to do was tell Trowa he was dying. Telling the Maguanacs, telling Rashid, had been hard enough. He couldn't face Trowa. Not yet.
"Quatre, you need to tell him."
"And I need you to stay out of it," he repeated. They stared at each other, neither backing down.
"Mr. Winner!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice. It was Bryan. "Why is he running?" Heero asked.
"I have it," the guy said as he slowed from a fast jog to a full stop in front of him. He put his hands on his knees as he bent over, gasping for breath.
"You need to work out more," Quatre said with a smile, bending over, trying to meet Bryan's eyes.
"Quatre," Rashid scolded with a frown.
"What?" he asked, glancing up. "Coming from a dying person, that says something, doesn't it?"
"That's really not funny, Master Quatre."
Bryan stood up, offering his boss a thick manila envelope. "It's a little funny," Heero interjected with a small smile of his own as Quatre took the thing and unraveled it. He pulled out a stack of papers, clipped together and marked with colored tabs.
"You got instructions from the nurse?" Quatre asked, glancing up to Rashid as he flipped through pages, signing his name as he went. His voice was strong, commanding. Dying or not, he was the boss.
"Yes."
"Alright, then." Quatre flipped through the pages one last time, making sure he didn't miss anything. He slipped the papers back into the envelope and tied it back up before handing it back to Bryan. "Copy that and send the original back to Kal," he said, referencing his lawyer. "Send a copy to both Rashid and Commander Sada Ul."
"Of course," Bryan said taking the papers. "Anything else, sir?"
"No. That's it for you and me," he said. He extended his right hand. "You've done well by me all these years. Thanks for that."
"It's been a privilege, Mr. Winner." Bryan took his hand, his jaw working as he fought back tears of his own. "Take care of yourself, sir," he said before reluctantly turning and walking away.
Heero and Rashid both stared at Quatre as he slipped his hands back into his pockets. "You're in charge of me now," he told Rashid before walking past them and toward the exit.
Chapter 2
The breeze rolling off the sea was cool as it played with his hair. The smell of brine and salt mixed with the sweet aroma of sage and thyme that grew wild on the hillside behind him surrounded his senses and the aquamarine Aegean spread out in front of him.
The cool temperature mixed with the wind off the sea sent a chill down his spine. For once, he didn't mind. Sitting on the sand dunes, in front of such pristine waters, watching as the waves rolled back and forth, was a pretty good way to pass the time in his book.
"You should really come visit in the summer when it's warm enough to swim."
Quatre looked to the right. From where he was sitting, legs tented, with his arms casually wrapped around his knees, he could see Relena walking towards him. Her sandy, pin-straight hair whipped around in the wind, huddling inside her white Prada jacket as she walked behind him and took a seat to his left.
"I might not be around that long," he replied nonchalantly before looking back out across the water. "Though it would be nice to go swimming again. I can see why you live here."
Relena stared at him with compassion and understanding in her blue-green eyes. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered. "The anti-depressants help," he added, half-twisting in her direction, a smile on his face. She smiled back, not seeming to mind his dark humor. "I'm more worried about everyone else."
"You did spring it on us," she agreed. Her voice was sad, regretful. Full of missed opportunities, lost futures, and the curse of too little time. Concern chased away her smile.
"I'm sorry about that," he apologized. "I really am. I just couldn't bring myself to say anything any sooner."
"I know."
Together, they both stared out across the water. The crystal clear aquamarine waters looked picturesque as they rolled up on the shore before chasing itself back to the body it came from.
"Heero was pissed," Quatre said quietly.
"He still is."
"Can't say I don't deserve it," he said mildly. It really hadn't been fair, finding out the way he did. He'd scared him pretty badly. Heero didn't make friends easily. He might have the respect and admiration of those he worked with, but friends...Friends didn't exactly come easily to Heero Yuy. Not giving him a heads up that he was even sick before passing out on him wasn't exactly considerate.
"Quatre?" Quatre looked over at Relena. "Why did you wait so long?" she asked. She looked sad and pained. A shard of guilt dug into him. He'd done this to his friends. He was doing this to his friends. He owed them answers.
He looked back out to the water as he considered his words carefully. It was almost February. It might still be chilly, colder than he'd like, but the view was breathtaking. The world was beautiful, vibrant. He'd miss it.
"I don't have any good excuses," he said, looking back to her.
Her eyes were patient and filled with understanding. Over fifteen years ago they'd helped shape the world together. They were giants of their time. And none of them had honestly expected to live this long. Death was not a stranger. Even to Relena. There was a small measure of comfort in that.
"Honestly? Fear, probably." He shrugged and looked away. "It didn't seem like a big deal, that first year. I had a brain tumor. They aren't typically harmful. Waiting and keeping an eye on it was par for course. But after they said I was terminal..."
He remembered the doctor walking into the office. The solemn look on his face had been an instant giveaway. The guy had about as good a poker face as he did. "I was angry. I was sad. In denial…"
"Stages of grief."
He nodded and met those kind eyes again. "Checked all the boxes," he said with a little chuckle. "It was a rough year."
"And you didn't tell anybody? How could you go through that alone?"
"I didn't," he reassured her. "I've never stopped seeing Dr. Farlan. She did up my dose though once I needed it. I told my sisters. Bryan, my personal assistant."
"But that was it?"
He looked down at his hands. "Yeah, pretty much. I seemed fine enough on the outside that it was still easy to pretend I wasn't…" His voice broke off. He felt tears welling up at the corner of his eyes. He blinked them away. He looked once again to his long-time friend. She was full of grace and compassion. He was honored to have known her as well as he did.
"I'm dying," he said with a bittersweet smile and a shrug. "I just can't hide it anymore. It is what it is."
Relena held out her hand to him and he took it. She squeezed, a silent affirmation of support. Her lips quirked up in a sad smile of her own and for a moment they stayed like that, sharing a quiet moment of companionship.
Something in the distance caught Relena's attention. Quatre followed her gaze. Heero was strolling toward them, hands tucked casually in his jeans pockets. "The others are here," he announced as he came up to them.
Relena looked back to Quatre and gave his hand one more squeeze before pushing herself to her feet. "Cora?" she asked.
"Rashid's got her." He replied as she went to his side.
"And Trowa?" Quatre asked hesitantly. Heero turned to him. The look on his face said what he didn't voice aloud, that he needed to figure his shit out and stop avoiding the guy.
"He couldn't make it."
Quatre glanced down at his feet. A mixture of relief and disappointment fluttered through his stomach. With a sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and followed behind his friends as they walked, holding hands, up the beach back towards the house.
When they reached the rear patio that overlooked the Aegean surf and entered through the kitchen a little sable-haired torpedo launched itself at Heero's knees, almost taking him out. Heero had to actually work to keep himself from falling over his daughter as she latched onto a leg, shrieking with laughter.
"Little Duo's here, Daddy!"
"I know," Heero answered, delicately trying to extricate himself from Cora's little arms. "He's here for your birthday."
Right on cue, Duo Junior, came running into the room followed closely by Rashid who appeared to be attempting, and failing, to corral the hyper almost eight-year-old. "I tried to steer him into the yard," the big man said apologetically.
"You're getting slow in your old age," Quatre teased. Rashid set him with a disapproving if melancholy, expression. Quatre smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. It was a light-hearted jab, even if it was ironic. He couldn't reverse what was happening. Might as well have a little fun with it.
"He's too slippery for anyone."
Relena peered around Rashid's large frame and smiled. "Hey!" she greeted with open arms as Duo and Hilde walked in. Hilde smiled and walked into Relena's embrace. Duo and Heero shook hands and hugged trading light-hearted digs. Sally and Wufei joined them, appearing much more sedate than the Maxwells. Happy smiles and hugs were passed around to everyone along with warm greetings.
"Hey, Q-man," Duo said as he pulled Quatre into a hug. "How are you, buddy?"
Quatre tucked his head into his best friend's shoulder and held him tight for a long moment. "I love you, Duo," he whispered.
"I love you too, buddy." Duo replied. Quatre could feel him hesitate, heard the concern creep into Duo's voice.
Duo let him go, holding him at arm's length, one hand resting against the back of Quatre's head. Duo looked into his eyes, pinning him down, looking for any sign of trouble. "You okay?" he asked.
Quatre looked into the dark, warm eyes of the man who he'd grown to love as a brother. Duo had always been there when he needed him, especially after he and Trowa had fallen apart. It had also been in large part to Duo that he and Trowa had been able to return to being friends.
"Aside from 'okay' being relative?" Quatre asked with a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to tell you that."
His answer seemed to put Duo at ease. He smiled. "Alright, man," he said, playfully slapping each side of Quatre's face. Quatre's smile grew wider at Duo's typical playfulness.
"If you weren't straight and he wasn't still hung up on Trowa," Wufei teased behind them.
"Hey, guys," Quatre greeted as Duo whipped around, draping his arm around his neck.
"Damn, right!" Duo announced with a devilish grin. He looked over his shoulder at Hilde, who was still standing next to Heero and Relena. "You might have some competition, Honey."
She smiled. "Apparently I'm chopped liver," she said, glancing over at Relena. The two women were trying not to laugh. Even Heero was smiling over Duo's antics.
"No offense," Quatre said, looking up at Duo. "But you're not my type." A round of laughter erupted from everyone. "You, on the other hand," he said, looking at Wufei. The laughter in the room got louder and Duo had to turn away, clutching his stomach because he was laughing so hard.
"Come here," Wufei said with a smile. Quatre walked into his friend's open arms. They hugged and clapped each other on the back. "You look a little thin," Wufei observed quietly as they broke apart.
"I'm as good as can be expected," he replied.
Heero twisted in place, trying to keep an eye on both kids. "Everyone to the family room," he announced. "Who wants cake?"
A duet of high-pitched "me's" filled the room. Everyone made their way into the other, larger room, following behind the rambunctious children. Duo hooked an arm around Quatre's neck, pulling him in close and pressing their heads together, proceeding to regale him with a story on what a smart ass his son was already.
Quatre smiled as they walked in the middle of their friends and family. He loved them all and very little would make this memory better.
"How long?" Sally asked, evenly.
It was late evening. The children were fast asleep, leaving the adults to catch up without interruption. Everyone had gathered in the lounge for coffee, tea, or wine, depending on preference.
Quatre sat in a plush chair next to a crackling fire. He'd just told them the news. He looked at her as he leaned his elbows on his knees. "Eight months, maybe less," he said.
Alarmed curses punctuated the soft gasps that filled the room. He tried to keep his expression neutral as the guilt of hiding his condition for so long settled over him once again. Duo looked positively shell-shocked. His mouth hung slightly open and stared at him with a glazed look in his eyes.
"What will happen?" Hilde asked softly, fighting back tears.
Quatre took a deep breath. Nothing like going over how bad it would get. "The migraine and overall pain will get worse, but there are strong painkillers for that," he answered. "So will my short term memory. We're looking at the possibility of stroke, blindness, and seizures."
"Seriously?" Hilde asked, blanching.
"It's not guaranteed that I'll experience all of those, but they are some of the highlights."
"How bad will it get?" Wufei asked.
Quatre opened his hands in helplessness. "Might be bad," he answered. "Might not. It's honestly hard to tell. Some form of seizure is almost certain."
"They're not all grand mal seizures," Sally interjected. Quatre nodded.
"Something as small as staring off into space might be caused by a seizure."
"Isn't that scary?" Hilde asked, eyes wide in fear.
Quatre smiled weakly. "More for everyone else. Not so much for me."
"Odds?" Wufei asked.
"Odds?" Quatre shrugged. "Six to one of having a stroke. Four to eleven of having a brain herniation. Again, seizures of some sort are almost guaranteed." He looked around the room, meeting everyone's faces, aside from Rashid who had already been fully caught up. "Based on my history though, the most likely scenario is that I'll succumb to some form of brain death due to mass pressure from the tumors."
Everyone stared at him for a long moment in silence. Quatre could see them thinking, processing. Their faces ranged from Rashid's solemn resignation to Duo's utter shock and disbelief.
"Quatre, I swear to God if you're joking…" Duo accused crossly. His voice trembled, a mixture of rage and fear. Its force nearly knocked Quatre backward. Quatre looked at his friend with a hurt expression. He'd expected an angry denial from Duo. It was hard to believe someone that you loved would die soon, especially when they were so young. He couldn't blame Duo, but it still hurt.
Heero set Duo with a stern look and spoke before Quatre had the chance to open his mouth. "He collapsed in his office when I was there."
Duo looked from Quatre to Heero and back again. "You collapsed?" he asked, sitting back, his eyes big and round with shock.
Quatre smiled meekly. "Yeah. It's how Heero and Rashid found out. Scared them more than a little, unfortunately."
"This isn't new," Sally said. Quatre turned his attention to her. Her eyes bored into him like a hawk. Quatre shook his head solemnly.
"No."
Duo's expression morphed from surprise straight back into pissed off. "How long have you known?"
Quatre looked away, catching the fire out of the corner of his eye. Someone was bound to ask that question eventually. "Two years about the terminal diagnosis. Another year before that knowing the tumors were there, but the doctors wanted to watch and wait to see what they did. They usually don't do anything."
Duo jumped out of his seat. "Jesus Christ, Quatre!"
Quatre winced. At the same time, Heero, Relena, and Hilde shushed him. "Don't wake the kids," Relena hissed.
Duo rubbed a hand over his face in frustration before turning back around in a huff. "Before Heero dropping in unexpectedly outed you, were you even going to tell us?"
Quatre looked up at him, appearing adequately chagrined. "Of course," he said quietly.
"When?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Fucking A, Quatre!"
"Duo!" Hilde scolded, her voice hushed, but full of maternal force. "Seriously, you're going to wake them up!"
"Duo," Rashid added with a frown. He didn't like Duo starting an argument or taking a tone with his master who had the misfortune of being the one dying.
Duo put both hands on his hips and squared off against Rashid. "Are you really telling me you weren't pissed?"
Rashid rose to his feet, towering over Duo. When he spoke his voice was low, rolling out from his belly like a cautionary growl. "My reaction to Master Quatre's news is not relevant and I would remind you, friend, or not, to keep your tone respectful."
Quatre held out his hand, trying to pat the air in a calming motion. "Guys, this isn't…" He started to say, but Duo threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room, shaking off Hilde's arm as she reached for him while he walked past.
"I'll go talk to him," Heero said quietly, rising from his chair and following Duo out.
After the awkwardness of Duo's exit dissipated a bit, Wufei returned his attention to Quatre. "Tell me you expected that?" Wufei asked.
Quatre walked along the beach, hands in his jacket pockets. The wind wasn't as strong as yesterday, making the sea waters placid, a smooth blue gem under a clear blue sky to admire.
Duo stood near the water, staring out across its magnificence. As he approached his friend, Quatre watched Duo stare at the water, resolute and statuesque. Quatre's heart felt like it would crumble in on itself. The others had asked more questions after Duo had stormed out of the room and Heero had gone after him to put out the fire.
Neither of them came back inside, or at least not back into the lounge before he and Rashid had called an end to the night for them both. His friends had stayed up longer, even after he and Rashid had gone to bed, discussing the news he'd just told them.
Knowing Duo was so mad at him, he hadn't slept well.
"You really can be a dick. You know that?" Duo asked, continuing to stare at the water as he came up beside him.
Quatre smiled and huffed a little laugh. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly. Duo twisted in place to look at him. The wounded look on his face sent a punch to his gut. He needed to know. They all did, but doing so was causing pain to his friends and that was hard to see. "I'm sorry, Duo. I really am. You didn't deserve to get blindsided."
Duo shrugged, a motion of helplessness. "Two years, man," he said in angry disbelief. "You had two years."
"I know."
"And now you have eight months."
"I know."
Duo looked back out across the sea and huffed a mirthless laugh. He shook his head and smiled a humorless smile. "I'm so fucking pissed at you right now," he said quietly.
Quatre glanced down at his feet. "You and Heero can make a club," he said and looked back to his old friend. "I'm sure you'll have plenty more members."
Duo's laugh was genuine then and a small smile broke across Quatre's face. "You know you done fucked up when Heero's mad at you."
"Yeah," he agreed, self-consciously looking back down at his feet and tapping the toe of one shoe with the heel of the other. He looked back up to Duo bashfully.
Duo took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "Shit, Quatre."
"That about sums it up, honestly."
Duo looked back over to him with concern. "Have you told…" he asked. Quatre shook his head and dropped his eyes to the ground. "Quatre." Duo's voice was pitying. Quatre resented it. He shrugged.
"What do you want me to do, Duo? He asked, looking up at his friend. "It was hard enough to tell you guys. And anyway, he was supposed to be here."
"He still loves you."
Quatre looked away, turning his head to stare, unseeing, back toward Heero and Relena's house. It was an open secret that he and Trowa still harbored strong feelings for each other. Trowa had asked him out a few years ago, willing to give their relationship a second chance. But in his fear, he'd turned him down and while Trowa hadn't pressed the subject, he hadn't hidden his intentions either.
He'd honestly considered taking him up on the offer too, but that had been before his diagnosis. Once the doctors told him he was terminal, he'd thrown away the notion that he and Trowa could try again. With such little time left, he wasn't sure it was fair of him to start something he knew he couldn't finish.
"After all these years, Quatre," Duo pressed."Neither of you has ever wanted anyone else. He still…"
Quatre whipped his head around to look at Duo, his expression angry. He cut Duo off with vehemence. "It would be easier if he didn't!"
Silence descended between them as they stared at each other. Despite the furious expression leveled at his friend, Duo didn't flinch. They'd known each other too long to be intimidated by the other. Duo knew him too well. Instead of anger, he saw fear, loss, and regret.
Everyone in their circle of friends had been disappointed when Quatre had balked at Trowa's plea for a second chance. No one had quite understood why Quatre had continued to ignore Trowa's overt gestures of affection.
Now it made more sense.
Duo dropped the subject and turned his eyes back to the water. "You have a plan?"
"Rashid's in charge of me."
"Imagine my surprise."
Duo glanced at him with a small smile. Quatre offered one of his own. He took a deep breath. "We're going to Commander Sada Ul's villa outside Riyadh. It's just a short helicopter ride to King Faisal Hospital. If I need to be treated for anything, they're going to have the best doctors, so…"
"Is that where you intended to…?" He couldn't finish the sentence. Quatre offered him a weak smile for comfort.
"We were going to go to my family's mansion after we visited the Commander, but he and Rashid talked me out of that idea."
"Good."
Quatre looked at Duo quizzically.
"Your family's place is in the middle of nowhere."
Quatre laughed. "I suppose."
"So you'll spend…" Duo's voice caught as a wave of emotion washed over him as a wave washes over a beach. He took a moment and cleared his voice before continuing. "You'll spend your last days there, then?"
Quatre watched him in empathy. "Yeah," he replied. "The place is really something, Duo. You should visit. It's a miniature palace with enough guest rooms to open a hotel…" Quatre paused and shrugged. "Or maybe a really expensive bed and breakfast."
Duo tried not to laugh, but failed, taking Quatre with him. It was cathartic and it was a long time before they were able to stop laughing as they wiped the tears from their eyes.
"You have contingencies?" Duo asked, once again turning solemn.
Quatre nodded. He looked out over the water. "I have a standing DNR and I don't want to be intubated for anything." He looked back down to his feet. "If it gets that far…"
He looked up to Duo, his best friend for almost twenty years. "They intubate, odds are I won't come off it." He shook his head slightly. "I don't want that. I don't want machines keeping me alive just to prolong the inevitable. There's no dignity in that."
He could see tears welling up in the corners of Duo's eyes and this time it wasn't from laughing. He could feel his own doing the same. They looked at each other, sharing the pain of impending loss.
"There's nothing else that can be done?" Duo asked. Quatre shook his head.
"I'm all for exploring all options, but...As of now, I appear to be out of them."
"There's that new stem cell thing."
Quatre smiled sadly. Duo sounded the same way he had a little over a year ago. "We tried. I'm on a waiting list, but they aren't ready for human trials yet."
The hope that had crept into Duo's eyes was extinguished and his face fell. Quatre offered him another smile. "We all die sometime, Duo."
"Yeah, but…"
Quatre continued to smile and shook his head. "Operation Meteor was a suicide mission. Both versions," Quatre said. "None of us expected to live this long."
"Yeah, but…" Duo tried to interject. Quatre shook his head again and Duo closed his mouth.
"Makes us living on borrowed time, doesn't it?" Quatre asked gently.
"I guess," Duo answered, looking at him with a plaintive expression. "But we are still here. We're young. We're having kids. We expect to be around for a while."
Quatre spread his arms out from his sides, even as they stayed in his jacket pockets, and shrugged. "I wish I had something better to say to you. Some sage advice that I've gleaned, but I don't have any."
He looked into Duo's deep eyes. It hurt, knowing he was about to abandon him and the others. They had been through so much together already. Now he had to face one last fight with them by his side. It was one he was bound to lose, but then, they were all used to that.
"Duo, you're my best friend," he told him. "You are my brother if ever I had one."
Duo reached out and pulled Quatre into a hug and held him tight. Quatre wrapped his arms around Duo and tucked his head into his shoulder like he'd done the day before. He couldn't stop the tears as they fell down his face. "I'll be okay," he promised, sounding stronger than he felt. "I just need you guys to take care of each other."
Duo backed up, holding Quatre at arm's length. Quatre could see tear stains on Duo's own cheeks. "I love you, kid."
Quatre's smile was bittersweet as Duo let him go. "I love you too, Duo."
"Just don't expect me to kiss you."
They both choked on laughter. Quatre smiled with a light heart. "I told you yesterday," he reminded him. "You're not my type."
"Remember when Trowa grew that facial hair for a while?" Duo asked, motioning a mustache with his hand.
"Yeah," Quatre replied hesitantly. He wasn't sure what Duo was getting at.
"They say guys look to date their fathers." Quatre scrunched his face in annoyed humor and whacked Duo on the arm.
"That's not funny," he chastised. "There's a reason he got rid of it."
Duo snickered as Quatre's hand hit him without force. "Yeah, well…" They both slowly turned their attention to the water, enjoying its beauty. "You really need to tell him."
"I know," Quatre agreed quietly. "And I will." Quatre could feel Duo's eyes on him. He turned to his friend. "I will. I promise."
"Master Quatre!"
The two friends turned toward the booming voice of Rashid. Quatre's keeper was standing on the beach, just off the patio. "That car's ready!"
Quatre looked back to Duo. "I have to go," he said regretfully. "Rashid made a doctor's appointment at the hospital. A status check to get caught up with my history."
Duo motioned with his chin. "You better go then."
Quatre turned to go, but quickly stopped and turned back to face Duo. "You should really visit if you want."
Duo nodded. "Give us some time to organize things. We'll come visit." Duo walked toward him and pulled him into another hug, holding him tight before pushing him away playfully. "Go on," he said and waved him off. "Get out of here."
Quatre smiled, turned away from his best friend, and walked toward Rashid who was waiting for him.
Chapter 3
Tall, white iron gates that formed a lotus flower opened, allowing the silver sedan to enter the personal mansion of Commander Sada Ul, sheik of the oldest living Muslim family, driving force behind the Free Peoples of the Middle East opposition movement against the Earth Sphere Unified Alliance, and financial backer of the elite Middle Eastern mobile suit unit, the Maquanac Corp.
Lush grass surrounding a long, rectangular reflection pool almost made one forget that there was desert beyond the gates the car had just passed through. The cream-colored paved driveway arced like the outline of an upside-down teardrop with the widest end leading up to and running under a porte-cochere, the tapered end acting as both entrance and exit.
The silver sedan slowly rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance of the Commander's mansion. The building was an architectural masterpiece designed by one of the best Middle Eastern architects in history.
The entrance was an expansive open-air affair, protected from the elements by a two-layered pyramid of flared arches, typical of Middle Eastern design, and decorated with elegant latticework. Terraces and balconies lined the length of the mansion, spreading out from either side. Multi-level areas of the roof hinted at extravagant rooms inside, set under vaulted ceilings and domes of exquisite stained glass.
Trowa exited the back seat of the sedan, looking up at the impressive display of wealth and power in front of him from behind a pair of aviator sunglasses and thinking that Quatre's appraisal of the place was right on the money, so to speak when he'd told Duo the place was a palace.
The five Gundam pilots had visited the Commander's villa outside of Jeddah, on the Arabian coast, several years ago before embarking on a week-long sailing trip. That mansion had been large as well, though not as large as this. The house, though ostentatious in its own right, was warm, welcoming, and familial. The pet love of an old man and a respite from the rest of the world.
This? This was power. Power and extravagance. This was where business was conducted. This was a place designed to wine and dine dignitaries from around the world and the colonies.
It was grand, certainly. It also looked like a museum.
Ahmad, one of the Maguanac Corp's sub-commanders opened the trunk and pulled out his suitcases, gently placing them on the ground. "I'll take these to your room," he told Trowa.
Trowa turned around to face him. "Are you sure? I can get them."
"We get bored enough. We look for things to do," Ahmad replied, smiling behind his bushy mustache. "Besides," he added, indicating the mansion with a jerk of his head. "You have more important things to do."
Trowa smiled in appreciation. The Maguanacs, all forty of them, acted like fussy mothers to Quatre, Rashid, naturally, being chief among them.
In true Middle Eastern fashion, they had been gracious hosts to him when Quatre had brought him to their base after their first encounter on the battlefield. None of them had batted an eye or spoke ill of his relationship with Quatre once it became romantic nor had they acted without respect when they had broken up. A few of them had even argued his case to their master after Quatre had turned him down for another chance to make their relationship work.
It had been Rashid, in the end, who had called him last week, telling him about Quatre's condition. That he had seven months to live. Less, if he started to deteriorate quickly.
Rashid had caught him on his lunch break. He'd devolved into a weeping mess after Rashid had ended the call. His work partner, Kerry, had to drive him home and sit with him for hours. After he'd returned to coherency, he'd been able to get a hold of both Heero and Duo, who had been able to answer questions and fill in some more gaps.
He'd called Rashid the next day, making plans to visit and spent the next few days after that filling out Preventer paperwork for a leave of absence. No one had questioned him when he'd told them he'd be gone for almost a year.
Ahmad had been kind enough to pick him up from the airport. The Maguanac had given him an update on Quatre's condition and what he'd been up to lately. He'd also informed him that a few of Quatre's sisters were milling about the place. Most notably, Jeyda, one of the younger, more rambunctious, Winner women.
"Shukran, Ahmad."
Ahmad nodded and turned to another Middle Eastern man that had shown up and started talking to him in more Arabic than Trowa knew, apparently giving the man orders.
Trowa turned back toward the tall, latticed double doors with opaque glass. He'd only made it halfway across the landing before the doors opened inward, revealing a retainer standing beside each door, with towering Rashid and slender Jeyda beside him.
He took his sunglasses off as he walked into the foyer. "Ahlan," he greeted Rashid. He held out his hand, which Rashid shook before pulling him into a friendly embrace. At six foot three, Trowa wasn't short by any means, but still, Rashid towered over him, making the hug Trowa found himself in a tad bit awkward. He felt like he was sixteen again.
"Ahlan wa sahlan," Rashid welcomed him as he left him go. "It's good you made it."
"Hey, Trowa," Jeyda said, taking her turn giving Trowa a hug. Shorter than Quatre, she had to stretch to wrap her arms around his neck.
Trowa gave her a familial squeeze. Other than Iria, who was the oldest of Quatre's sisters, Jeyda was the sister Trowa was most familiar with.
She and Quatre had been close throughout their childhood and she visited him often, usually en route to some adventure or other. Poised when she needed to be, as a woman of her status was expected to, she was lively and fun when in an informal setting. Trowa had always enjoyed her company.
"You guys okay?" Trowa asked.
"Yeah, we're okay," Jeyda replied as she let him go.
"You should go see him," Rashid said. Trowa straightened up and half-turned to the big man.
"Where…" He didn't even have to finish the question before Rashid answered.
"Go straight in until you step down into a large rectangular central area underneath skylights. There will be pillars lining the perimeter. Turn right, you'll eventually find an indoor garden. He's somewhere in there." Trowa nodded and started off in the direction Rashid had indicated. Jeyda gave him a sympathetic smile as he left.
Damn," Jeyda breathed appreciatively once Trowa was out of earshot, tilting her head to the side as he walked away, admiring the view.
Rashid looked down at her and frowned. "Jeyda," he scolded. "That isn't proper."
"What?" she asked defensively, looking up to Rashid and crossing her arms. "A girl can look. Man's gorgeous. Quatre has fine taste in men."
Rashid didn't look convinced.
Jeyda turned her gaze back to Trowa's receding form. "Think it was a good idea? Not waiting for Quatre to call him? Bringing him here?"
"I'm not sure," Rashid admitted, also watching Trowa disappear down a side wing of the mansion. "I guess we'll find out."
"He's going to be mad at you."
"Perhaps," Rashid agreed. "Sometimes Master Quatre needs a little push."
Jeyda shrugged with one shoulder. "Or a slap across the face."
A grin started to make its way on Rashid's face, though he remained silent. "Neither of you is going to live that one down," Jeyda said playfully, smiling and patting his arm as she turned around and started walking away. "I'll be by the pool if anyone needs me."
***** This IS a completed work, however, only this much will be posted here for artistic reasons. While I don't consider Going Home to be explicit enough to warrant an MA rating, I feel an argument could be made either way. I love this story and I wasn't about to re-write the few bits that toe the rating line, so if you want to read the rest of the story, you can read it on AO3 here: /works/13531320/chapters/31041792 ***