Hi, everyone! I know Khadija needs to appear more and I will be remedying that from now on. Don't worry though, when she's off scene she's being take care of and there's always an eletronic baby sitter around. :P

CHAPTER 4

With painful dread he watched himself stand there with the detonator in hand. He knew what would come, knew he would not be able to stop it… This was only a dream after all and he was only a spectator. Still, he shouted at his fifteen year old self to stop. He always did, though he never listened.

The first explosions filled the air with smoke tinged orange by the fire. "Mission accomplished." He heard his young self say and there was the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips. He had always felt pleased at the end of a mission, but in that smile he detected something he had not realised he had felt at the moment…relief. Had he always felt relieved when a mission ended? Why would he when all it did was leave him purposeless?

And then something went terribly wrong… He had made a miscalculation. One of the explosions knocked down a nearby Leo and he was left to watch – horrified – as it collapsed against an apartment building before going up in flames. His heart had been racing, pumping blood into his limbs, while his brain yelled at him to do something. He heeded the messages of his body, running towards the building just as the mobile suit exploded. In his powerlessness and consequent rage, he threw the detonator on the floor. There was nothing he could do. Nothing.

They had wanted to retrain him after that failure. Erase all humanity still left in him. He had returned battered and broken. The image of that little dog… An innocent creature, without a single care in the world, lying motionless in the falling cinders. That image resumed all that the wars had represented to him and he found himself wishing they had erased his humanity after all, had turned him into a complete weapon and not a mere prototype.

Somewhere, in the middle of debris, he heard a baby's cry. He stood up with the dog's motionless body in his arms and searched desperately around. This had never happened before…

Gasping, Heero sat up on the bed. The digital clock on the nightstand blinked 2:38. He turned to Relena as she shifted slightly moaning in her sleep, and then he realised he could still hear the muffled cries of a baby in the background. Quatre's niece. Khadija, his sleep laden brain filled in for him. He gave Relena another look before standing up and walking out into the dark corridor. There was no use trying to sleep after that nightmare anyway.

He meant to go to the kitchen and fetch himself a glass of water, but ended up following the blood curdling cries into the nursery. Without a second thought, he walked in and found Quatre pacing with the baby tucked in his left arm and an awaiting bottle on his right hand. He shook Khadija gently up and down trying to make her stop crying long enough to notice the nipple against her lip. Transfixed, he stood there watching for the longest of times.

"I'm sorry she woke you." Quatre whispered when the baby finally calmed down and took the bottle. As he took a sit on the armchair by the cradle, Heero realised he had a bib draped over his shoulder. It was both the most unexpected and most touching scene he had ever witnessed, though he could not fathom why. Maybe his nightmare had affected him more than it should. Maybe he saw that little girl he had killed in Quatre's protégée. A second chance. "Heero? Are you alright?"

"It wasn't her." He said hurriedly, shaking his head to clear it.

"Nightmares?" the blonde's tone was knowing and weary. It was the tone of someone who knew exactly how his interlocutor felt because he had been there himself. "Do you have many?"

Heero shrugged still standing at the door. "My fair share." He waited another moment before crossing the space between them his eyes glued to the small, almost hairless, blonde head. The baby was gulping the milk quick and earnestly. She would be done soon. He found it almost impossible to believe he had been like that once… To be so fragile, so vulnerable and dependant… The mere thought of it horrified him.

"Would you like to hold her?" Quatre asked suddenly, his voice soft almost hopeful, but Heero did not trust himself.

"No." he said, but ran a gentle hand over Khadija's head feeling the soft hair against the tips of his fingers. His heart clenched, his face taking on a painful frown as he realised that he was afraid, afraid for her because she was all those things he could not even imagine being. When he looked up, he found Quatre staring at him with a mix of awe and something he could not name… Yearning, perhaps?

He left as abruptly as he had come and resumed making his way to the kitchen to get that glass of water. Then, once he had it, he sat at the isle and stared at it not feeling the least bit thirsty. There was something about Quatre, about his presence that made him feel. He was not sure what it was… Sometimes he wondered if those feelings were even his, after all he had been empty for so long… And yet he was not sure what to think about it, about these feelings. He was afraid he might be turning into someone else. And what if it was someone worse?

"Why are you in the dark?" the blonde asked as he turned on the lights and made his way to the sink. Heero thought he would just leave the empty bottle and walk out, but – to his surprise – Quatre started washing the dishes left from dinner. "I can't sleep." He explained surely feeling the weight of Heero's gaze on him.

"Why did they backfire?" he asked suddenly, curious. He was definitely not himself anymore.

"Why did what backfire?" the blonde's shoulder tensed under Heero's gaze, and they both knew his confusion was mere pretence.

"Your relationships."

Quatre sighed. "Those are long stories."

"You've got plenty of dishes." He shrugged though the other could not see it and, despite the fact he had sounded nothing but serious, Quatre laughed.

"Well…" he turned off the water, his dripping hands hovering over the sink as he threw Heero a glance over his shoulder to make sure he was not talking to himself. "The first one was called Jeremy. I met him at a function, a fundraiser for cancer research or some other very important medical thing. At the beginning I was a little uncertain… He was a model and I thought once we got out of there and back to the real life that he would turn out to be a brainless fool."

"You assumed that based solely on the fact that he worked as a model?" Heero could not hide his surprise, he could not even stop his eyebrows from twitching.

"Horrible, I know, but if you had seen him… He was just too handsome to be true so I just assumed there had to be a downside to all that. We had been going out for a month, as intimate friends of sorts, when he started questioning my need for privacy and 'why was I avoiding the press when being seen with him was obviously the best thing that could ever happen to me'? I tried to explain that my family was traditional, that I was a Muslim, that I was responsible for millions of lives through the management of my father's company and that I wanted my sisters to learn about it from myself - not some tabloid -, but he would have none of it. He wanted to use me to promote himself and when he realised it wasn't happening he just walked out." Quatre finished with a shrug as if to say he did not really care or it did not really matter.

Heero waited for the second story, but when the blonde restarted scrubbing greasy plates he realised he would have to pry. "You said there had been two. What about the second one?"

"Why do you care?" the blonde threw him a doubtful look over his shoulder before resuming his boring task.

"You think I do not realise you shared nothing earlier tonight other than the obvious fact that you missed us?"

"What about you and your drugged rampage? What was all that about?"

He stood and stalked up to the counter, leaning against the corner so he could stare at his host and still give him enough space to be comfortable. "Do not try to change the subject."

"It always works with Duo… and Trowa." The blonde mused out loud turning on the water frustrated. "His name was Latif. He was an accountant. I hired him to work at WEI, then I had to sack him and hire someone else. The end."

Heero stared. "That's it?" he asked incredulously and his tone made it quite clear he would continue staring until he got the full account. Quatre obviously needed to talk about it even though he refused to, and somewhere inside him Heero cared. He cared about the blonde's mental health.

Quatre turned off the water again, hands resting on the edge of the sink as he stared at the tiles in front of him thoughtfully. "I was falling for him, Heero. For the first time since Trowa, I thought I would be able to love someone as much as I had loved him and actually have those feelings returned, which would have been a great – great – bonus. We were together for almost three years… He had moved in here with me… I introduced him to my sisters even though I knew many of them would not understand…" at this point he choked on the tears he refused to shed. "And all that time he was robbing me, robbing my company behind my back… He even had a girlfriend, fiancée, whatever… A woman who helped him from the outside. As Duo would say: 'Ain't it great to be rich?'."

"I'm sorry." Was all Heero could say, pushing away from the counter to grab a dishrag so he could start drying the plates Quatre was already done with. For a long moment they were silent, he pretended not to be paying attention, but he could feel the other's pensive gaze on him. It was a heavy gaze, like the calm before the storm, and then Quatre looked away.

"Do you still think about what happened between us?" he asked and it was so sudden Heero had not the time to make up a lie.

"No." he said because it was the truth. They had been young and inexperienced. Quatre had been mourning Trowa's supposed death and he… Well, Heero was not sure what he had been thinking. The blonde had made the first move and he had just followed along relieved to be able to engage in an activity that did not require much more than instinct. They had never talked about it and, when they met again in outer space, Trowa had been with them once more and things had seemed to just fall back into place. So he saw no need to dwell on it. "Do you?" he asked as an afterthought.

"Yes." Quatre said as if the blush on his cheeks was not answer enough. He still wouldn't meet Heero's eyes.

Heero decided not to pry the other any further, concentrating on his self-appointed task instead and picking up a dripping plate with the white dishrag. He watched Quatre out of the corner of his eye, wondering what that answer meant. Was it a 'yes, I still think about it and I'd like to do it again' or was it a 'yes, I still think about it and it reminds me that I never want to do it again'? Which one of those yesses would he prefer? He supposed his commitment to Relena determined he choose the second one, but then again… His commitment to Relena determined he should not even be thinking about such things.

And then, as if conjured up by his thoughts, she appeared at the doorway, blinking sleepily at the bright lights. He wondered if she had heard anything she shouldn't and if she would ask them what made them think it was a decent time to clean up the kitchen, but what they were doing barely seemed to register with her.

"Are you coming back to bed?" she asked in a tiny fragile voice, embracing herself against the sudden chill. He nodded and, as suddenly as she had come, she was gone.

"Are you staying?" he turned around to find Quatre looking even more solemn than he had before and frowned.

"No. I should go back to Khadija." the blonde turned off the water and dried his hands on the rag Heero had just abandoned. "What was that drugged rampage about anyways?" he asked in a whisper as they exited and Heero was relieved to hear that angry mother hen tone in his voice again.

"I already told you."

"Yeah, but I didn't buy it."

They went silent as they entered the corridor and Quatre stopped and peek into Khadija's bedroom. Heero did not know why, but he stopped as well and waited. It was when they heard whispers. Their eyes met and they were both frowning. Then with sudden realisation and worry, the blonde crossed the corridor and touched his ear to the door of the room Duo and Wufei were sharing. He gestured for Heero to do the same. It made him feel ridiculous, but he did it anyway.

"Duo, you are not getting bald." They heard Wufei's bored voice and wondered when he had started calling Deathscythe's former pilot by his first name.

"No… Have you seriously looked at it? I mean seriously. Here. Look again." There was a pause. "Now, tell me I'm not getting bald."

"You are not getting bald." Came the answer with a touch of exasperation. "That's a normal receding hairline. It's an effect of testosterone. A proof that you're growing older…at least physically."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Duo's tone went up a notch and then they heard the muffled sounds of a scuffle that only stopped when something solid hit the ground.

After almost an entire minute of silence, Quatre made to open the door, seeming truly horrified. Heero suspected he had heard murder – strangulation – in that prolonged silence, but he grabbed the blonde's wrist stopping him and shaking his head. That had definitely been an awkward conversation, but he was sure Duo and Wufei knew better than to actually kill each other. With a sigh, Quatre let the doorknob go, his lips forming an 'alright'. Heero let his wrist go and this time he did not stop, did not wait. He returned to the bedroom he shared with Relena and closed the door behind him.

OxOxO

She tilted her head to the side, her hair cascading smoothly over her shoulders as she smiled at him. It was a happy seductive smile that betrayed all her hidden feelings and made delicate wrinkles appear on the corners of her eyes. They were sitting at a bar counter, but there was nothing around them, only white. He let his head fall on the arm he had resting on the counter top as he watched her.

Relena tilted her head the rest of the way until it was lying on her forearm, resting on the counter much like his. She was so close… Their faces were so close and they were just smiling at each other, talking intimately though Trowa could not hear either his or her voices. Seductively, she laughed at something he said and then they seemed to be lying even closer.

Her forehead was suddenly against his and he could feel the softness of her skin and the coolness of her hair against his. Like cats they seemed to be marking each other and the sensations those apparently innocent caresses evoked in him were unbelievable. He rubbed his nose against hers… Her rosy lips looked so inviting, he wanted to kiss her.

"Trowa." That was most definitely not her voice.

He pulled away and the whole place seemed to vanish, blending with the blank background.

"Trowa."

When he woke up to Heero standing beside the sofabed, towering over him, he felt half hard and frustrated, but it lasted only a second before guilt stabbed at him and he dropped an arm over his eyes to hide it. "What time is it?" he groaned.

"Almost eight." There was a pause. Heero seemed to be waiting for him to make a move maybe remove his arm from his face, but he just wasn't ready. "I want to go for a walk. I need to talk to you."

Trowa finally met his friend's eyes frowning sleepily. Why would Heero need to talk to him so suddenly? Could it be he wanted to apologize for not telling Trowa he had done drugs? That seemed highly unlikely… Maybe there was more to the story than he had been willing to share the night before, but now he needed a confidant. Maybe he could tell Trowa where he got his drugs… He was starting to think he might need them.

"Can I have breakfast first?"

Heero shrugged as if it made no difference and, once Trowa had pulled on a pair of sweat pants and sneakers, they made their way to the kitchen. To his utter delight or displeasure, Relena was already there in a silk nightgown that reached mid-thigh and a matching robe she had not bothered to tie. He had seen her like that countless times before, but – after the dream he had just woken up from – the thought that she was so comfortable around him in such clothes made him feel guilty.

"Good morning." She greeted them with a warm smile. A cup of freshly brewed tea in her hands. "You're up early."

They were always up early the three of them, even on weekends, but perhaps she had thought that would change with the scenery. "We're going for a walk." He said before he could stop himself and Heero's discreet glare burned holes into the side of his skull. It was just as well or he would have asked her to join them. The thought of Relena in running shorts and tank top with her hair in a high ponytail was mouth-watering.

"Oh." Was all she said and then smiled. "I told Quatre I would look after Khadija so he could go back to bed for a couple more hours." she justified. Apparently, he had made the statement sound as a sort of invitation anyway. "There's some tea left if you'd like. It's chamomile."

Then she walked up to Heero and gave him a peck on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, brief with no telling signs of passion, but it made Trowa feel sick. He wondered if things had already been like this before they left Earth… If they had not, he wondered when they had changed. Maybe Quatre's words the previous night had changed the way he saw Relena. Maybe it was the fact that they were not home anymore. Maybe he was going crazy anticipating the moment when he'd have to tell Catherine about his failure in being normal, moving on.

"Let's go." He told his friend. "I'll eat when we get back."

Heero nodded and they left the building without a word. Trowa was not familiar with L4, but he did not really fear getting lost in a colony, especially not in a rich one, so he let his feet take him wherever they willed. He trusted his friend too to know where they were going. The word 'lost' did not belong in association with the word 'physically' at least not in Heero's vocabulary. Now, he could probably associate it with the words 'emotionally' or 'spiritually', but Trowa preferred not to dwell too much on it.

"Quatre still thinks about what happened between us." Heero dropped the bomb when they stood somewhere between a bakery and an empty playground.

Trowa frowned, unsure what to make of it. "Did he tell you that?"

"He asked me if I still thought about it." And he did sound thoughtful as he said it so his next words surprised the former pilot 03. "I said I didn't, then inquired if he still thought about it."

"You said you didn't?"

"I don't." Heero defended himself. "I dream about it sometimes, but that does not mean I think about it."

He sighed, as they paused for a fraction of a second before crossing a street, and noticed out of the corner of his eye that his friend looked troubled. "You're thinking about it now." Trowa stated matter-of-factly and the silence confirmed it. "How do you…" he trailed off, trying to find a better way to phrase it without sounding like one of those therapists he had grown to despise. At last he failed. "How does that make you feel?"

Heero snorted. "Stupid." Trowa blinked once…twice… Heero felt…stupid? "What?" came the irritated question and he realised he had stopped walking.

"Why would you feel stupid?"

"What is the point lingering in the past? I've been trained not to allow such things to distract me. What's done is done."

Trowa watched his friend's back for a moment a painful yet sympathetic look on his face. So that was the way of things… "The war is over, Heero. It's been over for 9 years." He had to jog to catch up with the man, but he thought the reminder was worth it.

"Hn." Was all the acknowledgement Heero offered.

As they turned to make their way back, Trowa decided to let it go. There was nothing he could do, but hope that his friend would think about that statement, of how relevant it truly was and what it meant. For now, he steered the conversation into different grounds. "I leave for L3 tomorrow morning. I bought two tickets… Thought you could come with me." He did not want to do this alone, but that was as close to an admission as he would ever get, though he knew his companion wasn't going to judge him.

"Wouldn't you rather take Quatre?" Heero asked after some time. "He's more in touch with human emotions than I am." He justified when Trowa sent him a confused frown.

"You sound as if you weren't human."

"Sometimes I don't feel like I am."

Trowa watched Heero carefully for a moment, but the former pilot 01's face remained blank though there was an edge of weariness to his voice. "I just think you and Relena know me best by now."

"Hn." It sounded like a consent, therefore Trowa decided not to press.

As they made their way back in comfortable silence, his mind wandered back to Relena and the dream he had had that morning. He wondered if he should tell Heero about it, but quickly pushed the idea aside. For all he had learned about Wing's former pilot in the last 6 years, he could not even imagine what his reaction would be. True, the dream had almost been innocent… She had not even been naked, in fact they had barely had bodies, yet it had still turned him on. For some reason that thought was even scarier. Now, he could not use her physical attributes and feminine attractiveness as an excuse to his body's reactions. Was he really that lonely? Or was he really falling in love with her?

"I think I'm going insane." He whispered to himself as they walked back into the lobby. Heero gave him a quizzical look, raising his eyebrows. Thankfully, he made no comment and they took the elevator up to the penthouse.