Little Miracles

Eh, well, I'm still going transferring An Interesting Website from the laptop to the XP compie (it's an ancient laptop, which only has Works and exactly 640 KB of storage ._.;;), and I felt I needed to post something in the meantime.. Should by at least to my wonderful beta reader, Des, by tomorrow evening ^^;

This takes place post-Mariimaia, by the way... A little ficlet idea I had when I was in Arizona (which, as many of you may know, is mainly desert and mountain) and my mom had asked my aunt why she loved the desert so much when so much was brown and dry. ^^

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Quatre Rabeba Winners desert quarters/mansion had always been quite impressive during the day. It seemed to spring from the warm sands as if part of them, and always had a very warm, desertish quality. However, during the nights it had a rather majestic look to it, as was the case on one particular night that the young Master had decided to invite some old friends over.

All of them had been there before, of course, as Quatre always had liked to keep in touch often. Still, much of the time they arrived during the day, and despite having seen it a few times at night it was a bit of a shock. Duo had, of course, immediately made himself at home, and Heero always managed to blend into wherever he found himself. Wufei had declined the invitation, choosing to continue his training and learning deep in some unknown mountain range. Trowa, however, was having some slight problems adjusting to the sudden change in temperature - Even though it was, in fact, much cooler than normal.

Quatre was aware of Trowa's usual slightly colder living conditions and had attempted to make the taller boy feel more at home. However, despite adjustments to the climate control and only one sheet, the circus actor was still far too hot to be comfortable. He kicked all the sheets off, to no avail other then having his foot get caught in them. He fiddled with the rooms controls even more, but there wasn't terribly much they could do in the desert heat.

He gave up.

'Perhaps a walk would help cool me off a bit...' He thought discontentedly as he pulled on a robe and walked quietly out of the room. Without thinking, he headed towards the main living room. His eyes, having quickly adjusted to the dark, discovered he wasn't quite alone in the darkness. He could just make out a slight silhouette in the window, gazing out to the desert. He approached silently, coming to rest right behind the dark shape in the window.

"Quatre?" He said quietly, in an attempt not to startle the younger boy. The figure, now completely identified as Sandrock's pilot, spun around quickly, eyes wide in the darkness. However, after a few seconds he recognized the voice and calmed. "Quatre.. Why are you still up? It's pretty late..."

Quatre smiled his beautiful, radiant smile and spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing the sense of peace pervading around the house. "I stay here often... The Magnuacs, of course, don't approve and wish I'd just sleep in my own bed, but... I love to just look at the desert, you know?" Trowa settled himself on the window seat, a few feet away from Quatre. "What about you? It was a long journey, from L3, and I know you can't sleep on shuttle flights... Actually, I'm rather dubious as to how any of you could sleep at all, with Duo babbling as he does."

Trowa smiled slightly at this and shook his head. "No... The three of us had a very pleasant chat, but otherwise it was quiet most of the time. Duo himself was almost... quiet, wistful... Serious," Quatre blinked, then settled back into the cushions. He spoke, still quiet.

"I suppose... We've all grown up a little, since the battles end," Trowa snorted slightly; for them, 'growing up' was the equivalent of turning eighty for many people. Quatre smiled, as if reading his thoughts. "Well, I suppose more like we just relaxed a bit."

He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "You know... All of us... We wore those masks for so long, yet suddenly after that battle it was like we had just noticed the fact that the feathers had come unglued and the sequins were gone and that the parade had already cleaned up and left."

Trowa nodded slightly; all of them had indeed changed a lot, but this was the first time in all the months following that final, desperate fight that anyone had voiced it. As Quatre said, everyone's masks were falling apart.. Pretty soon, they'd simply have to throw them in the trash and become ordinary again. Heero had become a bit more open, Duo had become a bit more serious, even he had become a tad more talkative. And Quatre... Quatre seemed just a little older... A little less innocent.

Trowa thought it suited him pretty well.

The two sat in silence for what seemed like hours (though it was actually about ten or so minutes), just looking out over the desert. The relative coolness was attributed to the recent rain, and it showed. The desert was speckled with plants, shrubs and cactus and flowers springing up ever few feet. Surprisingly, it was Trowa who broke the silence.

"Quatre..." Quatre sat up slightly and looked at him, turquoise eyes sparkling in the darkness.

"Hm?"

Trowa spoke quietly, wistfully, still staring out the window at the sand. "Why... Why do you love the desert?"

Quatre blinked and stared out the window in return, running his eyes over every curve of the sand, every mountain in the distance. It was a long time before he spoke.

"I guess... Because even though it seems so serious, so overpowering yet sometimes so bleak and desolate... When the rain comes, all the sudden everything springs up and becomes alive... It's so... Miraculous." He cast a glance at Trowa and said, so quietly that even the other pilot could barely hear him, "Each plant... each leaf... is a little miracle.. A little green miracle." He turned to Trowa, who did the same in turn. Quatre smiled a little, peering up into the green orbs.

"Green miracles..." He whispered, causing Trowa to look a little startled. Quatre spoke again, still a thoughtful whisper, "Your eyes.. They're... Green miracles..." The emerald orbs widened slightly under the level gaze. Quatre leaned forward a little, as if pulled by some invisible cord or mischief; still peering into Trowa's eyes. With one last whisper of, "Precious...green... miracles..." he leaned forward and brushed the others lips ever so slightly with his own.

"Goodnight, Trowa."

And he was gone, leaving a stunned emerald-eyed boy in his wake, a boy to stay on the window all night and eventually fall asleep...

To stare at the desert, sparkled with little, green miracles.