Renaissance

By skyprincess

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is mine forever! Mwahahahahahahaha! No not really. . . but after a moment of not so careful consideration, I wish it was. Those pilots are just so gosh darn cute when you put them in generally fubared situations. So Bandai, etc. etc. missed out on a lot of good opportunities. Their loss.

Warnings: none really, Quatre is still a la femme, though.

[blah]=thoughts

Chapter 4:

Brilliant violet eyes blinked several times as sunlight washed over the room. "Omigod, I fell asleep!" the braided wonder realized a little bit too late. Trying to rub the fog from his memory of the previous night, he looked down at the petite blonde in his arms and smiled as his protective instincts returned when his memory cleared. Quatre was curled into a ball almost entirely on Duo's lap. The alabaster hands were still gripping the front of Duo's shirt and the golden head nuzzled up against Duo's neck. Duo's arms were still around the smaller boy, resting on the small of Quatre's back. He lifters his left hand and brushed back the flaxen bangs. "You're like a little angel," he whispered into the ear of the still sleeping Quatre. Knowing that he'd still be tired, Duo didn't disturb Quatre. He simply soaked up the morning sun, and slowly ran his fingers through the platinum locks. "Poor thing," Duo murmured, "I can't believe that Trowa did that to you. . . I won't let it happen again. I'll keep an eye on you. I promise."

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Quatre's eyelids began to twitch as his internal alarm clock told him he'd slept in. But the sandrock pilot was reluctant to get up and face the day. For the first morning in a long time, he felt all warm and cozy. He didn't want to end it by opening his eyes.

The aqua pools slowly fluttered open, and he waited for them to adjust to the bright morning light. As he regained his vision, Quatre saw something that seemed entirely out of place. Duo's face gradually came into focus, and the little Arab racked his sleep-hazed memory. Upon recollection of the cause of Duo's unexpected presence, the fair face flushed bright crimson.

"Good morning sunshine!" Duo chirped at the bleary-eyed, red-faced toe-headed boy.

"Oh Duo! I didn't mean to fall asleep like this. I'm so sor. . ."

"What did I say about apologies?" Duo interrupted, "I'm your friend. It's my job to be there for you. Besides, I could've left if I'd wanted to."

The blonde studied his friend's face and the determined look of sincerity in the amethyst eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for being such a good friend to me," he said with a smile, "What time is it?"

"1000 hours," the alleged God of Death replied, laughing as Quatre released a monster yawn, "Everyone has been at class for hours. . . but I have a better idea of how to spend the day." He swiftly lifted the blonde bundle out of his lap and set him on his feet. "First of all, I have a question for you." Quatre, still costumed as the fairer sex looked at his friend expectantly. "Are you the one who plays the violin at all kinds of weird hours?"

The smaller pilot blushed again, but sheepishly nodded his head.

"Good. . . I thought so. Well in that case, would you be so kind as to give me the pleasure of a private concert?"

The Arabian's heart skipped a beat. It'd been so long since anyone had asked him to play. "Of course I will!" He hurried to his case on the bench and removed his bow and rosin. After running the small orange black along the white hairs several times, he capped it and placed it in a time compartment is his case. He them pulled out the requested instrument and adjusted his chin rest. Closing his eyes, Quatre let his heart find a song. Nimble fingers eased the bow into the first measure.

Duo's breath caught in his throat as Quatre first drew the bow across the strings. The piece seemed similar to the other song Quatre played, but only for the first few measures. It quickly sped into a rollicking tune that invoked images of fey dancing in the woods. The piece was light-hearted and reminded Duo of laughter. Quatre's fingers joyfully played hopscotch along the neck of the violin. Although the blue-green eyes were closed and his expression was somewhat serious, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Quatre's mouth. The intricate piece ended with a slurred eighth note run into a simple staccato quarter note.

Duo loved it, even though classical music wasn't really his thing. The melody described the Quatre from his memory and as the flaxen haired musician stood, framed in golden rays, Duo knew he had never seen anything more beautiful. His dear friend Quatre looked too good for this dark existence.

For a moment, the world stood still. Quatre's bow still rested on the strings and his eyes remained closed. The braided pilot sat on the edge of his seat in awe of his little friend.

Leisurely, the aqua eyes opened, and Quatre removed the violin from under his chin. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart. He regarded his breathless friend and smiled. . . not just any smile: Quatre's special smile that he saved for moments of pure and simple bliss. The sweet expression epitomized innocent joy and a love of life.

As Duo sat on the receiving end of the innocent smile and felt a warm sensation rush over his entire body. Finally remembering his obligations in response to the stellar performance, he burst into applause. Watching the modest blush creep across Quatre's cheeks, the braided boy determined to show him the time of his life today. "That was amazing Q! What a way to start the day!" Quatre listened still smiling as he cleaned his instrument and laid it in its case. "Well," Duo continued, "We're goin' out. You can dress in your normal Quatre clothes if you want. Nobody'll know. . . they're all at class. Besides, I kinda like you as yourself. I'm gonna go change. I'll be back in a little bit."

Quatre sat on the creamy bench in silence, listening to the braided boy talk excitedly. He couldn't have stopped his own mounting enthusiasm if he'd wanted to; Duo's vigor was so contagious. He watched his friend hurry down the hall and out the door, braid trailing behind. The blonde shook his head in disbelief, "How does Duo have such boundless amounts of energy?" He hopped up from his seat and headed towards the bathroom. He shed his uniform and tossed it the hamper. Swinging the shower door open, he quickly spun the shower nobs and climbed in to the stream. The water was slightly cold at first and shivers inched sown his slender body. Oddly, he didn't mind; the cool water actually felt rather refreshing. He poured a nickel-sized dallop of Pert Plus into his palm and worked up a lather in his fine blonde hair. He stepped back under the now warmer spray and rinsed the suds from his hair and body.

After towel drying, he ran a comb through his hair a few times. Disregarding his blow dryer, he reached for his pump-mousse. He worked a small peak of the foam through his golden locks and then combed his hair into a style they hadn't seen in weeks. He brushed his teeth with haste and took a moment to smile at his reflection. "Welcome back," he whispered to the boy in the mirror.

Unabashedly naked, he left the bathroom and headed for his closet. Approaching a fairly unused box, Quatre pulled out a pair of briefs and a white undershirt. [These are much more comfortable than what I usually wear.] After rummaging through the large closet, he finally decided upon a pair of khaki Structure pants and a light blue, long-sleeved button down. A brown leather belt and matching brown oxfords completed the look. Satisfied with his appearance, he went into the living room to wait for his friend.

With in five minutes he heard the door swing open and shut loudly. Duo came bounding through the hall calling, "Hey, Quat! Are ya ready?" Quatre gave Duo a once over as he entered the room. The brunette pilot's hair was pulled into its trademark braid. The Arab did a double take, admiring the thick chestnut locks. [Is it even possible for that braid to be longer than it used to?] Duo wore black sketchers with dark denim cargo pants and a black belt. Quatre eyed his friend's tight black t-shirt and could mot miss the toned chest through the light fabric. [The years have been good to you, Duo. He looks almost as muscular as Trowa.] Quatre immediately kicked himself for thinking of Trowa when Duo was trying to cheer him up.

Duo saw a frown briefly pass across Quatre's face, but it gone as quickly as it appeared. A smile replaced the worried look and the smaller boy asked, "So what are we gonna do?"

At that moment, Duo's stomach decided to loudly make its presence known and the owner of said organ smiled sheepishly at his friend, "I thought we might start with some lunch."

Quatre jumped up. "Great! I know just the place," he beamed.

"Awesome, my jeep is in the back lot."