By West Wind
Rating: PG
Pairing: 4xC, 3xR
Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing characters.
After our outing, there is a noticeable difference in the relationship between Quatre and myself. The previous tension that I felt is gone. Often I find myself caught up in conversation with him. It is usually in the evenings I seem to run into him two or three times a week, and before I know it, he has me drawn into a conversation. I am amazed at the wide range of topics we discus. Some times it is important or scholarly like the current political scene or recent scientific breakthrough, and other times it is silly trivial things like our pets as children or favorite flower.
I find that I enjoy talking with Quatre. He is so easy to talk with, he listens, and he seems to understand what I am trying to say even when I don't have the right words to express it.
I admit that my blond employer has wormed his way into my life and become a good friend. The hardest thing for me is keeping the two aspects of our relationship separate. I am managing to balance it so far.
The thing that I find odd is that none of my fellow employees seem to think its odd that Quatre and I socialize often. They will occasionally make a passing joke about it, but they do not seem to think it is unusual. However, I do. I have not seen Quatre spending several evenings a week talking to Leah or Enoch. When I bring the topic up to Mrs. Gilbert, her insight satisfies my curiosity.
"Everyone knows your are Trowa Barton's sister, even if they did not when I hired you. They also know that your brother is one of Master Quatre's best friends. Therefore for Quatre to spend time with you does not seem odd," Mrs. Gilbert explains.
Her logic makes since to me, and I do not think about the topic again.
Once again I find Quatre at my door asking to come in.
"What are you getting Trowa and Relena for Christmas?" he asks as he settled into the couch.
"I have not really decided yet," I respond.
"Do you have any ideas?" he asks.
"A few, but none of them are the right gift," I say.
Quatre lets out a grown of disappointment.
"I have no good ideas either," he sighs.
We start brainstorming on gift ideas for them and finally decide we will just go shopping on earth since we will have a few days between our arrival and Christmas.
Trowa and Relena had not only invited me to their place for Christmas,
but Quatre and the other pilots as well. Quatre and I will be the only
ones staying at their place since the others live in the area.
Quatre and I arrive on earth with no problems, and Relena and Trowa are waiting for us. As we step outside into the falling snow, I pull my coat around me tighter. Quatre takes my bag from me and helps put our luggage into the vehicle. I smile thanks to him before Relena pulls me into the car.
We spend the first day settling in and spending time with Trowa and Relena. Relena appears to be radiant as she scurries around trying to make sure her guests are settled in. I am unsure if it is because of Christmas, her having guests, or something else.
"We have a surprise for you," says Relena excitedly once Quatre and I emerge from our separate rooms.
Trowa is at her side with a smirk. They lead us down the hall to another room.
"Go in," says Trowa.
I open the door and find myself entering a nursery. I stand in the middle of the room slowly turning taking in the teadybear decorated walls. A crib, small dresser, and a rocking chair are the only pieces of furniture in the room. I look at the others now in the room.
Relena grins as she announces, "You are going to be an aunt."
"When?" and many other questions stutter out of my mouth.
"I'm close to four months," Relena interrupts.
"Four months!" I say shocked.
"We wanted to tell you in person," adds Trowa.
"Why didn't you tell me when you visited Quatre?" I ask.
"We weren't sure yet," offers Relena sheepishly.
I congratulate them both along with Quatre.
"Don't tell the others. They don't know yet," Relena explains. "We plan
on announcing it at the Christmas dinner, but we wanted to tell Cathy first."
I stand looking over the railing with the cool evening breeze kissing my skin. The black dress Quatre bought me rustles softly around my legs. I hear someone approach. Strong hands are placed on my hips as rough moist lips taste the skin between my left shoulder and neck. Tingles sprint down my spine, and I arch back into him with pleasure. His lips lovingly caress my shoulder with his bangs bruising my skin as he moves.
He pulls back, and I turn to face him with a smile on my face. His eyes speak of his love for me as our heads move closer.
"I have wanted to do this for so long," he whispers just before our lips gently touch.
Our arms encircle the other as we loose ourselves to the sensations we give each other.
I sit up in my bed breathing heavily. The passion evoked by the dream still coursed through my body. I could not believe I had been dreaming about kissing Quatre. Sure I found him attractive and somewhat desirable, but I am not in love with him. He is just a passing infatuation.
I push the dream away and try to sleep. Each time I close my eyes, my dream replays through my mind, and I hear his whispered words again and again. I finally give up on sleeping and head to the kitchen to get a drink. The kitchen light is on as I approach, and I can hear someone moving around.
Quatre finishes pouring himself a glass of milk as I enter. He smiles up at me, and I try to not think about what forced me from my bed.
"Trouble sleeping?" he asks.
"Yeah," I reply.
"Would you like a glass of milk?" he asks.
"Sure."
Quatre pulls a second glass from the cabinet while I sit at the table.
"Here," he says as he places the glass before me.
"Thanks. Not sleeping well either?" I inquire.
"No," he says looking into his glass.
"Anything particular keeping you up?" I ask knowing I am treading on iffy ground.
"Dreams," he answers turning slightly pink around the edges before he glances at me from behind his bangs.
I make no more inquiries into it. If I ask him about his dream, I might find myself asked about mine. How can I tell my employer that I was dreaming about him? I take a drink of my milk and change the topic to the Christmas dinner party earlier that evening.
As we talk I catch myself staring at him as if I am trying to memorize
every line and curve that makes up Quatre. I wonder if his lips on my skin
would feel like they did in the dream.
The rest of my time with Trowa and Relena was pleasant, and I had no
more dreams of kissing Quatre. The week swiftly comes to an end and Quatre
and I head home.