Warning: Shonen Ai, AU. That's all for now. More warnings for later chapters.
Disclaimer: Both Gundam Wing and Touched by an Angel do not belong to me. I am simply borrowing them. That done, on with the story!
Christams Music - Chapter One
Christmas. A time for peace. A time for forgiving. And a time for love.
Tiny snowflakes softly settled onto the pavement, the pure white creating a beautiful winter scenery of crystal and blue. The setting sun added a hint of deep crimson, and the whole city, with its bright lights and buzzing noises, seemed strangely peaceful, as if it too were watching this spectacle of beauty.
The young blond sighed. He loved Christmas. Every year, he would come and visit his family for the annual feast, and every year he would read the christmas story, while the family gathered around him to listen. The story never changed, but they never seemed to tire of it. Why was a mystery to him.
This year, his father asked him to invite some friends. Now that they had finished building the extension, he wanted to have as many guests as possible, and Quatre was happy to oblige. He had always wanted to introduce Trowa to the family. And since both of them were going, he had persuaded his friends Heero, Duo and WuFei to come along as well.
Yes, Quatre loved Christmas, and this year was going to be his best, and last, ever.
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"Come on, hurry up with that!" the chinese man yelled from the car, as the braided boy dragged a large suitcase through the snow.
"I could use some help, you know," Duo muttered through short breaths. He finally reached the boot of the car, where Heero helped him get it in. Exhausted, he sat himself in the back of the car, behind Wufei.
"Where are Trowa and Quatre?" he asked, "Aren't they out yet?"
"They're just coming out," WuFei pointed at the couple, then winced slightly. "Look at how pale he's become. His skin's just as white as the snow."
"Yeah," Duo mumbled quietly.
Carefully supporting Quatre to the car, the tall man handed a small suitcase to Heero, who promptly put it in the boot with the rest of the bags. He then opened the back door for them to get in, and sat down at the front.
"Right, we got everything?" Heero asked, and looked about to see everyone's nods. "Alright, let's go."
Starting the car, he rolled out of his parking space, and slowly drove through the cold winter morning.
-----
Iman(1) Winner sighed in satisfaction, as he looked over his masterpiece. In his hands, he was holding a beautifully carved violin, it's curves smooth, and the wood new and shiny. It was perfect. Perfect in every way, just like all his violins, except for one, little detail. At the back of it, the wood had a dark, black mark, and as much as he tried sanding and moulding it, it wouldn't go away.
"Father! Quatre's home!" one of his many daughters peeked through the door of the workshop. "Hurry up!"
Mr. Winner lightened up at the sound of his only son's name, and placed the violin and its bow back in the case. He hurried out of the room, and towards the hall, where he heard the muffled sounds of conversation. As he entered, he caught sight of his son and four other men surrounded by his daughters, who were buzzing about, asking each of them millions of questions.
Seeing their distress, the old father called over the crowd, "Girls, girls! Please, let Quatre and his friends get some rest. You can ask as many questions as you like at dinner, ok?" Quatre smiled thankfully at his father, and nodded at the others.
Leading the way upstairs, he whispered apologetically towards his friends, "Sorry about that. We hardly get any guests this far out in the country."
"Don't worry about that, Q," Duo winked, "If I weren't gay, this would be a haven for me. 29 sisters, huh? Wow!"
"Shh! Not too loud!" Quatre hissed, "Remember, my father doesn't know about my... preferences. And I'd like it to stay that way for a while, ok?"
"Sorry."
During this little exchange between Quatre and Duo, they had arrived on the top floor and newly build extension; the guest's wing. Showing them four different doors, the blond asked, "You sure you don't mind sleeping in separate rooms?"
"Don't worry about it," Trowa replied reassuringly, "We already told you back home. We won't do anything... suggestive." The other three nodded at that.
After each of them had chosen a room, Trowa accompanied Quatre to his own room, a floor lower down. Because of his friend's condition, Trowa had insisted on carrying his suitcase, as well.
Outside the bedroom door, they stopped.
"Thanks, Trowa. For everything," the little blond smiled weakly up at his lover, azure eyes meeting emerald.
"Shall I carry these in for you?"
"Yes, thank you."
The two of them entered the room, and promptly closed the door again. In a flash, Trowa had dropped the bag on the floor, and sweeped Quatre off his feet. Kissing the blond boy softly on his lips, he carried him to his bed, and lay him on it.
After breaking their embrace, Trowa looked away, so that his lover would not see his tears. Unfortunately, he moved too slowly, as Quatre had spotted them. Propping up on his elbows, he gazed at the tall boy questioningly.
Realizing Quatre was looking at him, Trowa looked back, eyes shimmering with spilled sorrow, "Quat--"
"Shh." Quatre lay a firm finger on the other's lips, then softly kissed them, not knowing what else to say or do. Feeling a storm of helplessness whirl up in him, he tightened the embrace in a silent cry for help.
-----
They spend the rest of the evening talking in Quatre's room, until Irea, one of his sisters, came to call them down to dinner.
Downstairs, the entire family, plus the other three, were already seated at a very large and very long dinner table. The dining room, too, was quite big, and was beautifully decorated with Christmas angels. In one corner stood a glorious tree, glowing its own golden lights. Numerous presents were already placed underneath it, and candles were scattered around the room, lighting it all up.
On one side of the room was a fireplace, with a few stockings pinned to it for the children, and on the other side were several family pictures. Most of them were of Quatre's sisters, but there was one of him as a little boy, carefully playing the violin. Another one was of him and his father holding each other. At the top of the little gallery was a portrait of a single woman, too old to be any of the sisters. She had platinum blonde hair and azure eyes, and looked strangely similar to Quatre. She was holding a violin to her chin, and a bow to its strings, her eyes closed to a silent tune.
She was beautiful. Angelic.
Gazing at this portrait, Trowa quietly asked Quatre who she was.
"She was my mother. I never met her, as she died at my birth, but I was told that she was an excellent violinist," her replied, "My father loved her greatly. He hasn't remarried since."
"Quatre!" his father called from the door, and walked over to his son, a young lady following closely, "There you are. Enjoying the meal, Mr. Barton?" he asked politely.
"Yes, thank you," he replied softly, and turned to watch Duo stuff his mouth with turkey.
"Good to hear. Quatre?" he said, turning to his son, "Meet Miss Relena Dorlian. She is the daughter of my business associate Mr. Dorlian. I hope you'll get to know each other." He winked subtly, and offered the lady the chair next to Quatre's.
"Thank you," she said, and sat down. Turning to the blond next to her, she smiled nervously, "Hi."
"Hello."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Can you pass the gravy please?"
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(1) I'm not actually sure what Mr.Winner's forename is, so I just took the one Lady Ophelia used in her story Inheritance. I hope she doesn't mind. If she does, I'll change it as soon as possible!
Sorry, I know it's a bit short, and doesn't really explain what's going
on yet, but I'll update soon again. And don't forget to review, please!
I live on feedback.