~ August 10, 2002 ~

Page: This was one of the first stories that my brain conspired and it ended up being one of those fics semi-lying around. I won't, no matter what, tear this fic up and rearrange it all. I will fix minor things however, when I get the chance. I suppose I was proud of it when I wrote it and so I'm gonna leave it. I re-read it and I'm not too fond of it now, but hey, what can a girl do? Please… I crave C&C.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the Gundam boys, I merely play naughty with them. So don't sue me, please. You won't get anything out of it.

~ Part 3 ~

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Quatre walked slowly over to his table for three. / All the way at the top row… why does it seem so far now? / He wondered absently. Tossing his book and bag casually on the floor, he quickly skimmed the expanse of the room for any empty seats. He swiveled his gaze around in the professor's direction catching a glance of Duo walking by from the window. Quatre's brows furrowed at the sight of the braided boy. His shoulders were slouched and he looked as if he had the world on his shoulders. / What's up with Duo? /

His eyes shifted again towards the pedagogue noticing the deepness to his voice. " We have a new student today, class. Please introduce yourself. "

Trowa came walking in with perfect posture and his hands placed neatly in his pockets. Quatre could barely take his eyes off of him. Looking him over once…twice…three times trying to figure out his fascination with him. His thoughts were flying faster than he could process. He noticed how his hair did something he's never seen before, his bangs more or less covered one of his eyes. They were strange; there's no question about that. They looked sharp and almost choppy but the whole auburn color that it had, threw all negative thoughts out the window. Maybe that's why he was so interested by the boy. Maybe not. Maybe it was his eyes, the first things he saw and can't seem to get out of his mind. Maybe that's not it either. Maybe it is JUST fascination… curiosity.

" Trowa Barton, it's a pleasure. " Trowa husked out monotonously as he bowed slightly. Quatre heard a few girls giggling and he rolled his eyes. / Girls. /

Trowa came up from his bow slowly catching Quatre looking at him. He had this indescribable look in his eyes. It was stern and predatory yet so warm. Not a soft look, just warm. Involuntarily, Quatre inhaled deeper than he should have. The thought of those warm eyes and then the alternate thought that Trowa's face might twist with a look of disgust because he thought that HE was a lovesick puppy, was something that Quatre couldn't stand. / He didn't think I was giggling…did he? … That's silly. /

"Are you alright Quatre? You look like you might pass out. " The blue-haired girl said, who was sitting to his left.

" I think that I might… " He murmured to himself, then clearing his throat and turning to her. " No… I'm fine. "

" That's perfect Mr. Barton, I'm sure you'll be caught up in no time at all. Now…" The professor said while tapping a finger to his chin in contemplation. " Please take a seat, how about… right there, " he pointed. " Right there next to Mr. Winner. I'm sure that he will help you if you have any trouble. Mr. Winner? Quatre Winner? Please raise your hand. "

Quatre did so without turning. He didn't want to be rude, but then again he was having a tough day today already as it was.

Quatre put his hand down and turned quite quickly, hearing the footsteps along the long and slender staircase. He saw Trowa with the whole first semester's work that he had missed pacing up to the top row… the row he was at. He then turned even faster, if possible, to his right, staring at the faded yellow and very much empty chair. He blinked. Quatre realized that he was too busy looking for other empty seats throughout his quick scan that he failed to notice the lonesome object right beside him.

" Quatre… HEY! " The girl snapped her fingers in his face.

"Aww. I'm sorry Rayne, what were you saying? "

" I was saying… " She went on. Quatre nodded as she spoke even though he was barely listening to her. He heard the chair's legs scrape against the wood floor and his eyes widened. Instead of turning, he let Rayne finish her seemingly long and pointless story.

" Just give me a call. It's 327-0304. Okay?" He said shakily.

She smiled sweetly at him and then proceeded in busying herself with the class' upcoming tasks.

Quatre slowly turned himself in Trowa's general direction. / Why am I so uncomfortable? / He shifted again while rolling his pencil back and forth against the chipped desk. / I dunno. It's not so much uncomfortable; it's… self - conscious. / And well, who could blame Quatre? Trowa's eyes were burning into him. Keeping his head straight ahead, Quatre let his eyes wander to the corner of his head. He almost didn't notice when Trowa's lips were moving and words were being formulated.

"You're making quite an impression on the desk there, little one. " Trowa whispered as he reached over, inadvertently brushing the back of Quatre's hand as he took the blonde's pencil away and tucked it nicely behind Quatre's ear.

Quatre bowed his head giving a quick apology and turned front and center again. The rest of the class was nerve wracking for Quatre. He had made it his top priority to stare and look interested in the blackboard all period long. / The blackboard isn't even black… it's an olive green color. / He thought on. And suddenly, he hoped that every class wasn't like this.

The end of class finally came and drew Quatre out of his ideas for color scheming patterns for the blackboard. He half expected Trowa to wait for him, but Trowa gathered together all of his books including his two lifetimes worth of homework and without so much as a second glance, headed out of the overly stuffy room. Quatre stood, the backs of his knees pushing out his chair for himself. His hands fisted as he stretched his arms over his head and stifled a yawn. He thought, alabaster tummy showing… / I hope Trowa's not mad at me. Then again, I don't know what he thinks. / It's all for the new kid he told himself. Just being friendly.

He grabbed his things, set on going to his locker, then walking home. Dragging himself down the long stairway, exiting the classroom, he looked at his shoelaces swaying side to side as he shuffled his feet. He looked up abruptly as his body ran into another's.

"H...hey Trowa. Um…sorry… again." He said hesitantly.

"Little One." He said and nodded, as if to say all was forgiven.

Trowa lingered. He looked down at Quatre and Quatre looked down at his shoes. "Um… I was hoping… see… umm I'm not familiar with the surroundings here. I just want to get to my locker and… can you… could you help me?" Trowa rambled. Quatre looked at his shoes now trying to depict Trowa's phrases to make an actual sentence.

After a moment Quatre looked up. Trowa had no reason to think that Quatre wouldn't help. But he thought it anyway. All of that flew out the window when Quatre looked up at him with a wide smile, bright as the sun. "It is a big place huh?" the blond sunray said. "So what's the number?"

Trowa just stared. Quatre kind of tilted his head to the side. "Oh, uh what was that?" Trowa said looking into Quatre's eyes.

" What's the number?" Quatre said again, slightly pointing to the schedule in his hands.

He looked to Quatre to see what he was looking at and he looked in the same direction, Then back at Quatre. " It's zero-zero-three."

Quatre looked at him like he had just said something nonsensical. " You're joking Trowa, right?"

Trowa shook his head no with confusion.

" My locker is zero-zero-four, meaning your locker," he poked Trowa's chest with a slender finger. " Is right next to my locker." He said pointing at his own chest. Trowa smiled as he tilted his head from side to side wincing as the muscles in his neck tightened.

Quatre winced when he did. " Come on Trowa. Let's get you settled."

~ End Part 3 ~