Disclaimer: The Mobile Suit: Gundam Wing characters used within this story are © Bandai, Sunset, etc. This work of fiction is intended for free entertainment purposes only. It is rated R and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

Author: Alleyprowler (asb_prime@yahoo.com)

Rating: R

Pairings: 1x2, eventual 3x4, (5xS maybe if I get around to it)

Warnings: Duo POV, language, lime. Duo playing Cupid; be afraid.

Location: Earth, northern hemisphere.

Pianoforte By Alleyprowler

I had to hand it to Quatre—when it came to safehouses, the Winner estates were hands down the best places for a trained terrorist to grab a bit of R&R between blowing up OZ bases and protecting innocent civilians from the violent machinations of the Alliance (heh, I read that in a news article somewhere). I've slept on the street, in my Gundam, and on the cold ground more times than any kid should, and man, was it great to be able to curl up in the lap of luxury once in a while!

This place had everything. There was a pool, a gym, a library, a freaking HUGE garden, a music room, and, my favorite, a very well-appointed kitchen. That was my current station at the time my story begins. See, I was a little too excited by the humongous bedroom with the four-poster bed and en suite bathroom I'd been assigned, and the excitement made me hungry, so I'd snuck down to raid the larder. Hey, I'm a growing boy, I need the nourishment.

I was working on my fourth peanut butter and wasabi sandwich when I decided to take a little walk around the place. There was just so much to look at! The paintings and tapestries that lined the walls were fascinating, and exotic plants and little objets d'art were stuffed into every nook and cranny. It was like living in a museum.

I'd almost finished my sandwich when I heard the music. Someone was playing the piano, very softly. Guided by the sound, I snuck barefoot to the music room and slipped into the open door.

The lights were off, but the heavy draperies on the tall windows had been tied back and the room was full of moonlight. All of the bright colors in the room were turned black and silver by the light, and the ethereal music that filled the room made the place feel like being adrift in outer space. I swear my feet never touched the ground as I hugged the wall and crept toward the source of the music.

It was Quatre, sitting at a grand piano. His back was toward me, but I'd recognize that bright hair anywhere. He was still wearing his khakis and shirt and vest, even though it was two o'clock in the morning and the rest of us had gone to bed hours ago. He hadn't even undressed.

The soft notes fell like rain, and I drifted forward. I felt like I was under a spell. My feet moved me of their own accord till I was standing at the opposite end of the piano and staring at Quatre's face.

His blank-eyed, tear-streaked face.

The spell broke. I came back to myself with a thump and a shudder. Quatre's expression never changed; he was staring straight ahead as if he was blind, and tears slid down his pale, expressionless face, making silver tracks on his cheeks. He was looking right at me, but he couldn't see me. His fingers moved mechanically on the keyboard, drawing out that sad, slow music note by note.

"Quatre?" I asked tentatively. He didn't respond, so I went to him and touched his shoulder. "Quatre?"

The music stopped. His hands left the keyboard and settled into his lap.

"Quatre? Can you hear me?"

He nodded, still staring straight ahead with moon-silvered eyes.

"Quatre, what's wrong?"

I thought for a moment that he wouldn't answer me, but then he took a little breath and said in a whisper, "I'm very, very tired, Duo."

His shoulder was trembling underneath my hand. "Is that why you're crying?" I asked intelligently. He didn't answer, he just sat there and shivered.

I don't have any psychological training, but I have had some medical training. I began to look him over—pupils, pulse, respiration, we all know the drill. His skin was hot and dry and his pulse was fast. He was breathing shallowly and rapidly.

"Q-babe, I don't know what else is wrong with you, but I think you're running a fever." I informed him. He didn't respond. A couple more tears ran down his cheeks. "Can you walk? I think you should be in bed."

"I can walk." He whispered. He stood up when I pulled on his arm, but he swayed a little. I hooked his right arm across my shoulders and wrapped my left arm around his waist to support him.

Slowly, I dragged him upstairs to his bedroom. He didn't make a sound, didn't wipe away the tears that kept coming. Whenever I looked at him, his eyes stared straight ahead at nothing. I was more than a little spooked.

~-~-~-~-~-~

Once we were in his room, I sat him down on his bed and charged into Wufei's room. Wufei woke with his customary grace and tact by throwing a punch at me. "Wufei! It's Duo!" I hissed. "I need help—Quatre needs help—I need help with Quatre!"

"What in the nine hells are you babbling about, Maxwell?" He said irritably.

"Quatre's sick or something. I don't know what it is or how to help him." I sounded desperate even to my own ears.

He huffed sleepily. "Status?"

"He's, like, catatonic, but ambulatory, barely responsive…Are you gonna help or not?" I was NOT in the mood for a mission report at the moment.

Wufei grumbled and reached for his robe. "Yes, Maxwell. Lead on."

~-~-~-~-~-~

When we got to Quatre's room, it was like no time had passed. Quatre was still sitting on the edge of the bed, silently crying and staring straight ahead. His entire body was trembling.

Wufei did the same systems check on Quatre as I had. "Well, he's feverish…" he said uneasily.

"I know that." I snorted. "What's wrong with him? When I asked, he just said he was tired."

Wufei took Quatre's chin in his hand. "Quatre? Do you hurt anywhere?"

Quatre nodded slightly. "Headache." He whispered. "Chest hurts." He added after a pause.

Wufei glared at me. "Make yourself useful, Maxwell. Get him some aspirin."

Sheesh. I knew Wufei was cranky because I'd woken him and he was worried about Quatre, but man, he can rub a person the wrong way! I plotted my revenge while I hunted up some aspirin and a glass of water.

~-~-~-~-~-~

By the time I'd returned, Wufei had gotten Quatre undressed and tucked into bed. The little guy had stopped crying, but his eyes still held that spooky thousand-mile stare and he had that weird, blank expression on his face. He sat up and swallowed the pills when Wufei asked him to, but he didn't say a word, didn't move an unnecessary muscle, and didn't even blink.

Wufei put a hand over Quatre's eyes. "Close your eyes; go to sleep," he said, and Quatre obeyed him instantly.

I swallowed nervously. "Wufei, what's wrong with him?"

Wufei tucked the blankets around Quatre's shoulders. "I think it's his heart."

"Oh my fucking god! His heart? I didn't know he had a heart condition!"

"His Space Heart." Wufei said impatiently. "Quatre's an empath. Didn't you know that?"

I hadn't known that. I hadn't even known that was possible outside science fiction novels.

"Absorbing all the emotions of war must be…stressful." Wufei said. He was stroking Quatre's hair gently. "He is strong, but everyone has a breaking point." He let out a sad sigh. "No one should have to bear this burden."

"What can we do?"

Wufei shook his head. "Hopefully this is some sort of catharsis for him. We'll just have to wait and see."

Jesus, Quatre, I'd had no idea. My emotional control is kind of shaky at the best of times; I couldn't even imagine what kind of self-control it took to manage a steady onslaught of other people's feelings. My body made a command decision for me, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd shrugged off my robe and crawled into bed next to him.

"Maxwell, what are you doing?"

I'd draped an arm and a leg over Quatre's overheated body. "I'm not going to let him go through this alone."

To my surprise, Wufei nodded. "That might be for the best. Just don't try anything with him."

"Wufei! What kind of a slut do you think I am? I'm not into molesting sick people, and besides, everyone knows Trowa has it bad for Quatre! He'd kill me!"

Wufei looked scandalized. "I did not know that and I did not need to know that. What you hormonal bakas do in your spare time is none of my business. I'm going to bed." He stalked off in a huff.

Oh well, Wufei'd get over it sooner or later. I settled down next to Quatre and kissed his forehead. "I'm here for you, little brother," I whispered before I sank into sleep.

~-~-~-~-~-~

I woke up lots earlier than I'd have liked, but that was because Quatre was shaking me rather insistently. "Mmm. Whazzit?" I mumbled.

"Duo, what are you doing here?" He insisted.

"Taking care of you."

"Excuse me for asking what may be a silly question, but why?"

He sounded normal. I felt his forehead, and it was cool. "'Cause you were sick. You're better now. Go back to sleep."

I should have known better. When Q-babe gets his teeth into something, he doesn't let go till he gets what he wants. "Duo, wake up and tell me what happened. Now."

I told him about it, starting with finding him at the piano (which he vaguely remembered), and ending with Wufei's theory on what was wrong with him. When I was finished, he looked rather surprised.

"I don't remember anything after I sat down at the piano," he said, "but thank you very much for looking after me."

"You're welcome very much. Now go back to sleep." I proceeded to do exactly that.

~-~-~-~-~-~

Somehow Trowa found out that Quatre had been ill and he was freaking out in his quiet, cool way. Quatre wasn't taking it very well.

"Trowa, I am FINE! Will you quit HOVERING?!" I could hear Quatre's voice from all the way across the house. That was bad news; Quatre didn't raise his voice unless he was on the verge of ZERO-ing out.

I couldn't blame him, though. When you're small and cute, people tend to get smotheringly overprotective of you even if you can kill a grown man with a paperclip. And Quatre could. I've seen him do it and I still have nightmares about it.

Quatre stomped out of the kitchen, looking tense and pissed off. When he saw me, he sort of glared at me like he was daring me to ask him how he felt—which I didn't do. I value my life too much. I just slapped a big grin on my face and said, "Heya, Quat. Did ya leave me any breakfast?"

He relaxed slightly and smiled back. "Sure, and Trowa's cooking. Excuse me, I have an appointment with Wufei."

An _appointment_? That was _so_ Chang Wufei! If he was any more anal retentive, he'd suck up the furniture every time he sat down. But still, he's an excellent soldier and a good friend and near the top of my depressingly short list of People I Can Trust.

Trowa was in the kitchen, stirring something. Trowa's an amazing cook. "Hey, T-man! What are you making?"

"Omelette." Trowa wasn't one to waste words.

"Cool…I don't suppose I could talk you into making one for me?" I asked, batting my eyelashes at him.

"Tell me what happened last night."

I sighed. "Trowa, Quatre's fine now. If I tell you about last night, you're just going to get upset and start stalking him, which is going to make him nervous, which is going to make _me_ nervous, and you know what I'm like when I'm nervous. Things tend to get broken."

He gave me a flat glare from behind that waterfall of hair of his. "Duo, _not_ knowing is what's making me upset."

I caved. "Okay, make me an omelette and I'll tell you about it." I said. He wasn't going to let me get away without letting him know every little detail anyway. So while he cooked and I made toast, I told him everything I could think of, starting with the sandwiches.

"Peanut butter and wasabi?" He echoed, looking vaguely ill.

I slapped my stomach. "I have Gundanium-lined digestive system." I'm very proud of that fact. "Anyway, I was wandering around when I heard Quatre playing the piano, so I went to go listen…." Blah blah blah. You've read the story.

When I got to the bit where I woke up Wufei, Trowa had finished cooking our omelettes and we sat down to eat. Well, I ate and he sort of pushed his food around on his plate. When I got to the part about the Space Heart overload, he stopped even _pretending_ to eat. He just stared down at his plate and let his hair hang in his eyes. He had it SO bad.

"Dammit! I knew it was going to upset you!" I pounded my fist on the table and accidentally knocked over the salt cellar. Oops, bad luck. I paused to throw some over my shoulder—better safe than sorry.

"It's okay, Duo." His voice, normally so cool and smooth, sounded choked.

"No, it's not, and I'm not going to let you starve yourself over it. I feel shitty enough as it is." I leaned across the table and grabbed his fork, cut off a piece of omelette, and shoved it at his face. Or what I could see of his face, which wasn't much. I used my free hand to shove aside that weird unibang of his. "Open. Your. Mouth." I said, and he didn't. He took the fork out of my hand instead.

"I can feed myself, thank you." He said in his normal voice.

"If you eat at least half of what's on your plate, I'll drop hints to Blondie about how drop-dead hot you are," I smirked, and was rewarded by the rare sight of seeing Trowa blush deeply. But he took a bite. "I'll go on and on about those sultry green eyes, that amazing body that I'll bet you can twist around like a pretzel, the way your hair feels—"

"DUO!" He snapped, blushing even deeper.

Oops, I'd gone too far. "Sorry, man. Just eat, okay? Please?" I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. He just sighed and started eating again. Mission complete, as Heero would say.

Trowa finished every bite of his breakfast. I was glad. He'd been moping lately and hadn't eaten as much as he should, so maybe he was feeling a little better about things. Or maybe the threat of Shinigami practically force-feeding him had gotten to him. Whatever it was, I was happy. I even offered to do the dishes, since the dishwasher was broken. How was I to know you couldn't wash your boots in a dishwasher?

He agreed to that. While not adverse to doing any other household chores, up to and including cleaning toilets, Trowa really, _really_ hates washing dishes. I suspect that's why he taught himself to cook, so he could get out of that heinous chore. And me? Hell, I don't mind. I kind of like it. I like the hot water, the way the soap smells, the view from the kitchen window…WOW!

"Trowa!"

Trowa was by my side like a shot. "What's wrong?"

I pointed a sudsy finger at the window. "Look!"

The kitchen window overlooked a grove of birch trees, and it was usually full of birds and squirrels and other entertaining stuff, which is why I like this particular view. Today, though, the view was further enhanced by Wufei and Quatre.

Wufei was pacing in the grass with his hands clasped behind his back. At first he looked like he was ranting, but upon further observation, he was probably lecturing. He was talking a lot, anyway. Quatre was sitting nearby in a half-lotus position in a patch of sunlight. His hands were open, palm-out on his knees and his eyes were closed in quiet concentration. He wore a loose blue sleeveless shirt, tight black leggings, and had a soft-looking scarf wound around his neck. The sun was making his windblown pale blond hair practically glow, and the look of serenity on his face was absolutely beautiful…in a guy kind of way, I mean.

Good old Wufei. He was taking matters into his own hands and teaching Quatre some meditation-type thing. Judging from the beatific expression of Quatre's face, it was working quite nicely.

I turned to say something about it to Trowa, but once I got a look at him, I decided to keep it to myself. Trowa was…hang on, let me get my thesaurus. Trowa was hypnotized, transfixed, enthralled, mezmerised, enchanted. Pick a synonym. He was drooling slightly too, but I didn't feel any need to point that out to him. "Breathe, Tro," I prompted.

He took a breath and his color returned to normal. "What are they doing?"

"Well, apparently Wufei is showing Q-babe some sort of meditation technique so that I won't have to come wake him up in the middle of the night the next time the blondie has a total emotional and physical collapse and scares me half to death." I said without thinking.

He made some sort of noise deep in his throat and I realized I'd scared _him_ half to death. I patted him on the back in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. "Trowa, it's okay. He's fine now. _Look_ at him." That was kind of a dumb thing to say since Trowa's eyes were practically glued to Quatre. It was pathetic.

I decided right there and then that Something Must Be Done. If poor Trowa was pining away and Q-babe was making himself ill with those pent-up emotions of his, then why in Wufei's nine hells weren't they together? Well, apart from the fact that they were deeply in denial, of course. Think, Maxwell, think.

I left Trowa to his Q-Vision and went to go take a shower. There's something about showers that is wonderfully stimulating to the brain cells, don't you think?

My line of reasoning was this: Trowa was head-over-heels in lust with a certain blond, and the certain blond didn't feel the same way. Sure, Quatre _liked_ Trowa well enough, but then Quatre likes everyone. Even Relena. Another thing was, I was pretty sure that if Mr. 'I'm Perfectly Comfortable Wearing Pink' had any sexual preferences at all, he was into guys. That was a point in my favor.

Another point—if Quatre was an empath, how come he didn't know that Trowa had the hots for him? Even I could tell. It kind of came off him in waves, almost like a smell. Was he deliberately ignoring it, or was he somehow just not picking up on it? I'd have to ask him.

That was it. I was just going to have to sit Quatre down and ask him. Mission accepted.

~-~-~-~~-~-~-~

I found Quatre out by the fish pond, sitting with his legs pulled to his chest and his arms around his knees. The clouds had rolled in and it was a little bit chilly to be out with bare feet and no sleeves, but he didn't seem to mind. He was gazing dreamily at the fish with a little Mona Lisa smile on his face, and if I didn't know any better I'd have thought he was stoned.

"Hey, Q-bean!" I called, trying to snap him out of his trance.

He just looked up at me and smiled a little wider. "Hi, Duo. I've just had the most _amazing_ morning…."

"Yeah, I know. Trowa and I were watching. You looked, er, pretty relaxed." I sat down next to him to see what the fish were up to.

"I haven't been that relaxed since…I can't remember." He shook his head and a sudden breeze blew his hair back from his brow. His eyes were shining.

"Yeah? What was Wufei saying to you?" I switched from Japanese to English. Only we two out of the five could speak it with any fluency; it's like our own private language.

"It was guided meditation." He said in his heavily accented but precise way. "He was showing me how to separate my feelings from the feelings of others and how to get rid of the excess." He looked at me with positively luminous eyes. "I can't begin to tell you how much of a relief it is to not have to carry that much emotion around with me all the time.

"It's so confusing," he continued, "to never know if what you're feeling is genuine or just some random pang you've picked up. It comes strongest when it's from people I'm close to, like my sisters, or the Manguanacs, or you four…but I also pick up signals from strangers. Soldiers and—and civilians…" He stopped and swallowed hard, and I could see the shine of tears in his eyes. "That's the hardest of all. The fear, grief, sorrow, anger, and *hate* they feel sometimes is a bit overwhelming. Especially when I know I've caused those feelings."

Well, fuck. So much for my mission objective. Now was not the time to dump a load of emotional shit on Quatre's plate. "Quatre, I didn't know till last night." I said awkwardly.

"I know. Wufei told me. It's all right, Duo, it isn't a fact that I let be generally known." He put an hand on my wrist. A very cold hand, by the way. "You couldn't have known about it, so stop feeling guilty."

"God, Quat, how can you stand it?" I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight, but I knew Trowa was watching from somewhere. I could feel emerald lasers boring into my back.

He shrugged. "We bear what we have to. Up till now, I've let my music be my outlet…and you can't have failed to notice I'm a bit of a crybaby." He flashed a grin at me. "But this, what Wufei has done for me," he threw his arms into the air happily, "I am forever in his debt."

"Well, don't go running off to the wedding registrar's office right away, Q-babe," I joked. "I think Wufei has the hots for Sally."

He laughed like a child. "I've known that for ages! All you have to do is mention her name and the room practically fills with passion! It's rather sweet." He looked wistful.

I saw my opening and ran for it. "Can you really read us that well?"

He nodded. "I try to block it out, and my empathy isn't really all that reliable, but when it's as strong and as clear as that, I can't help but feel it."

"So what do you feel when you open up to, oh, Trowa, for example?" I winced inwardly, hoping I wasn't being too obvious.

A slight frown creased his forehead. "Trowa is difficult to read. When I open up to him, I sometimes feel this great _longing_…but I don't know what to make of it. I think it has something to do with his need for identity, but I can't be sure. I can only feel emotions, not what causes them. Oh, Duo, I shouldn't be telling you this!"

"Hey, I'm your big brother! This is all confidential stuff, trust me." I slung an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. His skin felt chilly against my hand. "Um, Q-bean, aren't you cold?"

He shrugged. "A little, but I don't feel like going inside. It's so peaceful out here." He smiled serenely at the fish, and I swear they smiled back. The little guy was positively radiating happiness. It felt pretty damn good.

"So I heard you yelling at poor old Trowa this morning," I said, more to break the silence than anything else. Silence makes me nervous.

Quatre laughed. "I am going to have to apologize to him. He was just trying to help."

"What did he do?"

"It's silly…I wasn't very hungry this morning and he kept trying to get me to eat more, and I just got irritated and snapped. He's almost as bad as me!"

I had to laugh over that. Quatre can be quite the mother hen sometimes, but he doesn't always react well when the tables are turned. "Well, I guess I was lucky you were in a fairly good mood when you woke me up this morning, or you'd have shoved me out of bed!"

"Well, someone needs to kick your lazy self out of bed. You didn't get up till eleven o'clock!"

"Just in time for Trowa's cooking," I agreed, and Quatre gave me a look that can only be described as odd.

"Duo, are you worried about him?"

Oh man. I am SO not subtle. "Well, a little," I admitted.

"What has he done to make you worry?" Quatre shifted so that he was facing me rather than the koi pond.

Think fast, Duo. "Maybe I'm picking up on his emotions a little, too. He doesn't seem very happy." I saw the light go out in Quatre's face and his smile disappeared, replaced by a look of concern. Oh damn, I hadn't meant to do that. I forged ahead bravely, since I couldn't think of anything else to do. "That longing you feel coming off him? I think that has something to do with it."

"I see," he said slowly. "Do you have any idea what it's about?"

"I think I do," I said, and oh man, was I nervous. "I think he's longing for, well, _you_."

Total blank incomprehension; that pretty much described Quatre's expression. "I don't understand."

Oh boy, there is really no way to put that sort of thing delicately, but I did my best. I put a hand on Quatre's shoulder and stared directly into his eyes. "Quatre, Trowa is fascinated by you. He adores you. You should have seen him this morning when he was watching you meditate—he literally forgot to breathe! Q-babe, he wants you in the worst possible way and he's so freaking lousy at expressing himself that he'll never get around to telling you about it, so I'm doing it. Um, Q?"

I hadn't thought it was possible for Quatre to go any paler than he usually was, but it was and he did. I felt terrible. This was the second time in twelve hours he'd gone into shock—that can't possibly be good for your health.

"Quatre, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I made a huge assumption there…I just sort of pegged you as the type who would, um, go for someone like Trowa. Are you okay? You look like you're about to pass out. Can I get you anything? Talk to me!"

"Is it true?" He asked me. Well, I assumed that's what it was. He seemed to have lost his voice and I'm not very good at reading lips.

I nodded. "It's true," I said. "Maybe we should go inside?" The wind was picking up and it was going to rain any minute.

"Yes…I have some things I need to think about." Quatre rose to his feet in one fluid movement and seemed steady enough on his feet, but it was all I could do not to grab his arm. Dammit, now I was the one who was hovering! I shoved my hands into my pockets and forced myself to trail after him.

He didn't seem to notice, though. He was in his own little world and Duo Maxwell had simply ceased to exist for him. I watched him enter the estate and drift off toward the stairs, presumably to go lock himself in his room while he chewed on the information I hadn't really planned on giving him.

Man, when I fuck up I don't do it halfway.

~-~-~-~~-~-~-~

Heero was due back that evening and it was Trowa's day to cook, so I already knew what was on the menu. Trowa may not be the master of communication, but he has a big heart and he shows his friendship in quiet but significant ways, such as preparing our favorite meals when one of us comes back from a long mission. For Heero, that meant eggplant parmesan, VERY garlicky garlic bread and Caesar salad. I don't know where Heero developed a taste for Italian food, but it was well on the way to becoming one of my favorite meals too.

Trowa is a magician in the kitchen. He would _have_ to be in order to get me to eat eggplant, let alone to like it. My mouth was watering already, and I hadn't even begun to smell the food.

I'd been sitting in the library all day…well, since I'd royally screwed up with Quatre, that is. I'd been alternating between reading and moping and listening intently for any sign of him coming downstairs. As far as I could tell, no one had used the stairs all day.

Heero came back at five o'clock. He had been on a routine surveillance mission, which sounds pretty cushy but isn't. It involves a hell of a lot of watching while nothing happens and monitoring nothing in particular while your body is crying out for either activity or sleep, which, of course, it can't get. It's exhausting.

Heero, however, has nerves of Gundanium, and after a shower and a quick nap, he was good as new. He found me in the library, where I had added 'drooling' to my list of activities, and surprised me with a long, deep, slow kiss. I promptly forgot about Quatre, Trowa, dinner, and anything else.

There was a quiet cough from the doorway to the library some time later. We looked up and saw Trowa standing there, looking as cool and calm as always except for the bright red blush on his cheeks. "Dinner is ready," he said softly, then he practically ran from the room.

"What's wrong with him?" Heero asked. Usually Trowa is about as likely to show his emotions as a telephone pole.

"I'll tell you later," I said, stealing a quick kiss. "Come on, he made your favorite."

"_You're_ my favorite," he said, and now it was my turn to blush. Heero can be awfully damn sweet sometimes.

~-~-~-~~-~-~-~

There were four of us when we sat down to eat. I counted twice to make sure. "Where's Quatre?" I asked.

Wufei spoke up. "His…illness has returned. He's resting."

Heero glanced at me sharply and Trowa looked stricken. "Did you try the meditation thing again?" I asked Wufei.

He shook his head. "No. This is different. The feelings he's dealing with now are strictly his own and he needs to learn to cope with them."

Wufei could be a cold-hearted bastard sometimes.

For such a silent meal, there was a hell of a lot of communication going on. Heero's whole body language was letting me know that he wanted a full report on what the hell was going on, and he wanted it yesterday. Trowa was slumped miserably, looking sad and worried, and he was doing that not-eating thing again. I was busy giving Heero reassuring looks, staring pointedly at Trowa to make him eat, and glaring red-hot death daggers at Wufei. Wufei was busy pretending to ignore us and was eating like he didn't have a care in the world. He wasn't fooling anyone.

All in all, it wasn't an enjoyable meal. It was a relief when we finally finished eating and Wufei stood up to collect our plates.

"Thank you for the excellent meal, Trowa." He said with polite dignity. Trowa dredged up a sickly smile that lasted all of fifteen nanoseconds. It broke my heart.

"Yeah, thanks, T-bird," I said, patting him on the back. "You're the best."

He just sort of nodded at me and slumped in his chair. So much for my efforts at cheering him up.

Heero didn't even try for the verbal approach; he just squeezed Trowa's shoulder as he passed him by on the way out of the dining room.

~-~-~-~~-~-~-~

We were, by unspoken agreement, going to Quatre's room, but Heero needed to be debriefed first. "What's wrong with Trowa?" He demanded as soon as we were out of earshot.

"Well, this is going to sound pretty stupid, but he's lovesick."

Heero is unflappable; he didn't even twitch. "Hn. For whom?"

"Quatre."

"Hn. And what are Quatre's thoughts on the subject?"

Well, this was the sticky part. "It's hard to say—he sort of short-circuited when I told him how Trowa felt about him, and he's been locked in his room all day."

"When you told him?"

"Yes…jeeze, do you think Trowa would ever do it himself? It was way too stressful watching him mope around and sneak those sad little looks of his on Blondie, so I  thought I'd bring things out into the open." Even to myself, that sounded defensive.

"Does Trowa know you did this?"

Oh boy, I was going to get in trouble for this. Heero thinks of Trowa the same way I think of Quatre--they're practically brothers and are very protective of each other. "Um…no."

Heero gave me his 'I'll be dealing with you later' glare and continued on to Quatre's room.

I got elected to knock on the door when we got there. "Quat? It's Duo and Heero. Can we come in?"

I heard a very faint "yes" and pushed the door open. Heero brushed by me. Quatre was curled up in a chair by the window, staring out at the rainy night with that spooky non-expression on his face. It was a repeat of last night; he was shaking and non-responsive and crying in that mechanical way that sent a little shock of fear down my spine. I brushed his hair aside and felt his forehead—yes, that damn fever was back too. I grabbed a spare blanket from the foot of his bed and tucked it around him.

"I found him like this last night, in the music room," I told Heero. "Wufei thinks it's his empathy getting the better of him, and I'm inclined to agree. Things aren't exactly serene and happy these days."

Heero was doing that pupils-pulse-respiration thing that we all did pretty much automatically to each other when one of us was hurt. "It's as if his body is treating it like an infection." He said.

I nodded. "That would explain the fever and chills."

"Can he communicate?"

"He responds to direct questions and commands."

Heero bent down to look Quatre in the eye. "Zero-four, can you read me?" He said in his 'mission' voice.

"I read." Quatre responded in a flat monotone.

"What is your status?"

"Damned."

Of all the things that Quatre possibly could have said at that point, that was one of the least expected. I glanced at Heero and saw that he was just as poleaxed as I was, if not more so.

"Damned?" He echoed, frowning at me. "What does that mean?"

I didn't feel like discussing the entire implications of the word just then, so I settled on, "It's a religious guilt thing."

Heero just blinked. He had about as much use for religion as a fish has for a scuba tank, and about as much comprehension as said fish for said scuba tank. Instead of worrying about it, he got down on his knees and took one of Quatre's callused hands in both of his, looking for all the world like he was going to propose.

"Why do you feel that, Quatre?"

"Because Trowa loves me, and I-I think I love him back." Quatre said in English. His voice was shaking.

"No, Quat," I said when Heero gave me a puzzled look. "I'm not going to translate for you. Anything you can say to me, you can say to Heero as well."

There was a long, long pause before Quatre finally repeated his statement, this time in Japanese.

Heero didn't look any more enlightened. "In your religion, love is bad?" He asked, looking adorably confused. Like I said, he's clueless.

"B-between two men…yes." Quatre whispered.

"But Duo and I love each other. Do you think _I'm_  bad?" He asked.

"No!"

"Do you think Duo's bad for loving me?"

"No! Of course not…"

"What about Trowa? Is he bad for loving you? Is he…damned?"

At that, Quatre broke down completely. "No! But…He will be! He will be if he keeps loving me!" He sobbed, then he curled up in a fetal position and simply _dissolved_. I don't know how else to put it.

Heero surprises the hell out of me sometimes. He picked Quatre up, blanket and all, and sat down on the bed to try to comfort him. I sat down next to them and rubbed Quatre's bare arm, which was so hot it shocked me.

"Quatre? Do you want me to get Wufei?" I asked.

Quatre shook his head. He was sobbing against Heero's chest and clutching the material of his t-shirt so tightly that I was amazed it hadn't ripped. Heero didn't seem to mind; he simply rocked Quatre till the sobbing stopped and my little blond friend was slumped limp and exhausted in his arms.

"If your god would punish you for loving another person, then I don't think much of your religion." Heero said eventually. I almost laughed. "I don't happen to think love is evil or bad or whatever you call it. In fact, it's the best thing that ever happened to me. It doesn't feel evil at all; it feels very good and right."

I knew Heero was talking to Quatre, but some of that was meant for me, too. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

I reached out to rub Quatre's back. "Apparently my god has some issues with loving another man too, Quat, but nothing's ever come of it. Heero's right, it doesn't feel evil at all. It feels…" I paused for a quick vocabulary check. "It feels _sacred_."

Heero put the arm that wasn't involved in supporting Quatre around my waist. "Quatre, I'm loving Duo right now. Open up your heart and feel what I feel." And then, with very little warning, Heero kissed me. He kissed me and stroked my braid and touched me all over with skimming fingertips until I felt lightheaded, and then he kissed me till I didn't care any more.

When the kiss broke, I noticed two things: I had a raging hard-on and Quatre had gone silent. The hard-on could wait, I suppose….

"Now, did that feel bad at all?" Heero was asking his wide-eyed charge.

"No, that felt…wonderful." Quatre whispered in awe.

"Good, does that mean you're going to stop using me as a crying towel?" The front of Heero's t-shirt was soaked.

Quatre smiled and snuffled wetly. "Yes, but I could still use a tissue or six."

With that, it seemed the crisis was averted. We got Quatre his tissues and some aspirin to bring down his fever, and he promised to talk to Trowa in the morning. I kissed him goodnight, Heero shocked me once again by kissing him goodnight, and then we left him alone to get some sleep.

I could barely wait till we got to my room before I pounced. "Heero, you are fucking _amazing_!" I yelled, glomping onto my lover's body and kissing him for all I was worth. "Where the hell did you learn how to do that?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." He deadpanned, and then he picked me up and carried me to the bed, where we proceeded to annoy Wufei by banging the headboard rhythmically against the wall for most of the night.

~-~-~-~~-~-~-~

Heero and I woke up late the next morning, for obvious reasons. We didn't hurry getting out of bed, either. The best thing about long missions is the coming-home part, you know.

Eventually, the need for food drove us to get cleaned up and dressed. It was way past time for there to be any breakfast left for us, but since it was nearly noon, we figured we could get started on an early lunch.

What we didn't figure on was encountering an outraged Chinese terrorist in the kitchen.

"You two! You are responsible for this, I know it!" Wufei yelled as soon as we walked in.

"Huh?" I said intelligently.

"I went out to give Quatre another lesson this morning and I saw _that_ undignified display!" He pointed at the kitchen window, the one that looked out into the birch grove and the pond.

Heero and I stepped forward to see what Wufei was giving himself hypertension over, and we were treated to the cutest sight I'd seen in a long time. Trowa and Quatre were sitting side-by-side on the little arched bridge over the koi pond, close enough to touch shoulders. Quatre was barefoot again and was trailing his feet in the water, giggling when one of the voracious fish tried to nibble on his toes. Trowa was trying oh-so-subtly to work his arm around Quatre's waist without him noticing. They were both grinning like loons.

"Kawaii!" I shouted, much to Wufei's disgust.

"I agree," Heero said.

"You agree? Yuy, what in the nine hells has gotten into you! They're acting like a couple of lovesick schoolgirls! It's an injustice!" Wufei was practically foaming at the mouth.

My lover turned to our outraged dragon. Very calmly, he said, "I talked to Sally yesterday. She sends you her deepest respects."

I thought poor Wufei was going to have a stroke. "WHAT?!"

"She also gave me this for you." Heero took a small packet out of the pocket of his jeans and handed it to Wufei. 'Fei opened it with trembling hands and brought out a necklace—a black leather thong with a gold pendant embossed with a dragon and some Chinese characters.

"Nice!" I opined. "What's it say?"

Wufei's voice was hoarse all of a sudden. "Honor, justice, strength…and love. Excuse me," he said, and fled.

"What the hell was that all about?" I asked my smirking lover.

Heero slid an arm around my waist. "He's just cranky because we kept him awake most of the night and he misses Sally. He doesn't really disapprove of Trowa and Quatre." He turned back to the window. "You were right, they are awfully kawaii."

~-~-~END PIANO~-~-~