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Long Lost
Disclaimer: I still don't own GW or any of its characters. I tried, but Evilnmalice outbid me. (Fortunately it didn't pay up, so it doesn't own them either.)
Warnings: None
Pairings: so far, only 3x4, we'll see how things develop
Archive: Desolation Angels. Previous parts can be found at http://www.dreamwater.net/ashura/LongLost.html
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Chapter Four: The Substance of the Heart
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Quatre had come to the conclusion he would never be entirely comfortable with his lover's employment. It was one thing, risking life and limb in defense of peace, the earth, and the colonies. It was another to stand against a wall and let someone throw knives at you, and no matter how much Trowa trusted Catherine, Quatre was never going to relax when he watched it.
So, to the great amusement of the six-year-old sitting next to him on the bleachers, he kept his eyes closed through most of the act.
He opened them to the sounds of cheering, and, comforted by the fact that Catherine's aim had once again proved true, let the crowd carry him out of the circus tent til he could make his way past the sideshow and search out his lover. The lion cages were usually a solid bet--since the creatures preferred Trowa to any other two-legged being, he was usually the one to feed them. Quatre hovered there, just out of reach of any stray teeth or paws, until he spotted a familiar tall figure in the crowd.
"Trowa!" he called, rewarded by the widening of wood-green eyes as his lover hurried to reach him.
"Quatre?" The brilliance of Trowa's smile dissolved any doubts the blonde boy might still have harboured about coming to find him, though concern quickly replaced it. "Are you all right? Is something wrong?"
Quatre shook his head. "Everything's fine. Well, mostly fine. I want to talk to you about something, later." Trying to reassure Trowa that there was no immediate emergency without diminishing the significance of what he /did/ need--that was the trick, and he was too keyed up to be delicate. "I just needed to see you."
The lions were forced to wait several more moments for their meal as Trowa pulled him close and kissed him eager hello. "I'm glad you did," he said simply, and Quatre wondered how it was possible that any one person's presence should be able to calm him so thoroughly.
"What do you want to do while you're here?" Trowa asked, later, when the lions had been fed and the pair walked, hand in hand, toward the small trailer he shared with Catherine. "A bunch of the performers are having a get-together later, if you want to go." He grinned almost shyly. "It'll probably be very loud and they'll all be drunk, but they're good people. Or we can hide out in the trailer together--you said you wanted to talk about something? Or find something else to do, just the two of us."
Quatre's mind began calculating the pros and cons of each option. He did want to explain the situation with Relena to Trowa, but he couldn't deny the temptation of indulging in something the two of them had never had frequently--a real date. "What would you like to do, Trowa?"
The taller boy laughed, squeezing his hand tenderly. "I'm just really glad you're here. I promise I'll be ecstatic no matter how we waste the rest of our night." His bright smile turned wicked, and he added lightly, "especially if you end up in my bed at the end of it!"
Once, Quatre might have blushed at that, now he only feigned indignance. "I certainly didn't intend to sleep on the floor," he said haughtily. "The only question is, where will /you/ sleep?"
"Imp," said Trowa, and stopped right in the middle of walking to pull him close and kiss him again.
In the end it was decided--the pair of them would hole up in the trailer while Quatre said his piece, then they'd go track down the rest of the performers. Trowa assured Quatre that the festivities wouldn't really start until well after dark anyway, when everyone would be well and drunk. Catherine, after saying hello to Quatre, had discreetly volunteered to go into town and leave them to their own devices for the evening. Trailers were not made for privacy; only the illusion of it.
"So," Trowa finally began, setting the kettle on for tea and curling himself around Quatre on the faded, battered sofa, "what's on your mind, oh love of my life?"
Quatre leaned back against him, nestling into the hollow of his lover's neck, pausing to revel in the rhythmic pulse of the heartbeat against his back, and then began to explain. Trowa listened silently--he was always good at listening, his arms wrapped comfortably around Quatre's chest until it became imperative to get up and turn off the teakettle.
"So," Trowa summarised, as Quatre watched the honey drip in a long gooey line from the spoon into his cup, "Relena is your half-sister. Your mother had her, disappeared to L4, married your father--we assume--and had you, and the two of you would just like to figure out why."
"It sounds simple when you put it like that," Quatre pouted, finally giving up and stirring the honey into the tea. "But yes, that's essentially all. We--we already decided we can't make it public, but I needed to see what you thought, Trowa. I need you to put my head back on straight."
Trowa leaned close, his fingers stroking Quatre's chin, eyeing him appraisingly. "I think your head's on just fine," he declared after a moment, and Quatre stuck out his tongue. "Well, I do. You've already got your course of action planned, and I think you've dealt with it very well. Both of you. It has to be a bit of a shock."
"What does?" Catherine called cheerfully, poking her head in the door.
"Finding out you have a sister you didn't know about," Trowa answered, deadpan, and Catherine rolled her eyes.
"Right. Just wanted to let you know I'm going to the party. I'll see you both there later, right?" Her grey eyes narrowed, twinkling merrily. "Or should I just plan to stay away as long as the trailer's rocking? I'll be too drunk to notice when I stagger back in, I promise."
"Then you might see us," Trowa countered. "Who knows? If we're late you might see four of us...or six..."
Catherine made a noise suspiciously like a grunt and vanished, letting the door swing shut behind her.
Quatre left off stirring the tea and sought out Trowa's arms again. "Will you help me look for the answers?" he asked, as if the conversation had never been interrupted.
Trowa's lips brushed against his hair. "Of course I will...you know love, it's a bit exciting, really. You've got a mystery in the family. It's like living in a trashy novel."
Quatre brightened. "That's true...it is a bit, isn't it? How does it end then? I've never really sat down and read one."
Trowa made a face. "You're not missing out on much. Cathy loves them. Because they're always guaranteed a happy ending."