Memento [Part Eight]
"You were right."
Trowa was reclined on the couch, balancing a glass figurine at the tip of his index finger. A few days had passed since his fateful meeting with Quatre in one of the secluded briefing rooms and he was now on his day-off, lounging around his sister's place. Sometimes he did enjoy doing nothing. With the many adventures that came with his job, it was no wonder he was as lazy as a couch potato when he had the chance to be.
"I knew I was," Cathy answered as she came out from her room in her performer's costume. She was wearing a tight, colorful leotard that ended with a ruffle. Tonight, it was the dagger act for her. "You should bring him over," she suggested, retrieving her daggers from a box and checking them under the light.
"You shouldn't be suggesting a visit when you're playing with those," Trowa answered, looking at her reprovingly and pointing to her hands. "I can't help but feel like you're planning to skewer him."
"Hey, I play nice," she said. "You've been talking about him a lot but you haven't brought him over yet. What? Is there some sort of conspiracy around him going on that I don't know about?"
"He's under house arrest like I've said a thousand times before. I'm picking him up tonight since it's my turn to take him in. Maybe you could come over for a visit and see him for yourself."
"We're moving after tonight's performance Trowa. I don't think I could come over."
"Suit yourself," Trowa said as he stood up and placed the glass figurine back on top of the coffee table. "Thanks for the cookies and the tea. Maybe I'll visit you up at the colonies if we get an assignment there." He grabbed his jacket and kissed her on the cheek. "Don't worry; I'll call you if anything happens."
Trowa grabbed his keys before heading off to Heero's place. He was thrilled at the prospect of keeping Quatre with him for a week. In the few days that he actually stopped ignoring the man, he learned quite a number of things about him. He knew for sure that although he looked like his husband, he was certainly a different person. Every now and then, he would notice a slight similarity but more often than not, the differences were so salient that the small similarities were eventually overthrown and forgotten.
Driving the almost empty road, he thought about his newfound ease with the new Quatre. Although something was nagging at him at the back of his brain about the prospect of betrayal, he saw no harm in pursuing his own pleasures for the time being. The simple longing he felt was instantly replaced with that of mindless intoxication that was caused by simply being near the man. He didn't dare think it but somehow, it was quite inevitable that he would fall into the trap of desire once again.
He smiled to himself and drove further, making sure that he didn't miss the turn to Heero's place.
It was both nice and confusing, the feeling he'd been getting. He was starting to have new images about Quatre when his phone suddenly went off. He groaned before picking it up with the push of a button.
"What?" he asked, not looking at the incoming video.
"You're late. My meatloaf won't wait for you."
Trowa rolled his eyes. Knowing Heero, the meatloaf probably wasn't even cooked yet.
"Now, now Heero, no lying on the phone," he heard Duo warn from the background.
"Jesus, I think the abominable piece of meat is going to move at any moment," he heard Wufei add in.
"Heero, give the meat another 15 minutes. I won't be there for another five but I'd like to make sure I won't eat anything raw tonight," Trowa said.
"Who said it was raw?" Heero defended.
"Heero, put that phone down! Your so-called roasted meatloaf, which is still twitching might I add, is making Quatre queasy. I think he's going to throw up."
Before Trowa could say anything, the line was disconnected. He shook his head in disbelief. One of these days, someone had to tell Heero that rare meatloaf wasn't the same thing as rare steak. While rare steak was good, rare meatloaf was abhorring. He started to wonder how Quatre was doing. He had no doubt about it that the man had already started throwing up and that Wufei had already sneaked into the kitchen to put the half-done meat back into the oven.
"And here we are," Trowa said as he stepped on the break and parked his vehicle, taking the key off the ignition.
He looked for Heero's key under one of the large potted plants and stuck it in the slot before opening the door. He took his shoes off and made his way to the kitchen where he knew the meat needed rescuing. Wufei was by the oven, just as he predicted, placing the half-done meat back in.
"Mind if I save the meatloaf?" Trowa asked.
Wufei looked up to see Trowa standing at the other end of the oven.
"Be my guest," he said, placing their dinner on top of the counter.
Trowa opened the refrigerator to find something that would give the meat more flavor. He then opened the cupboard to find the spices. Heero's cooking was not too bad but there were those isolated times when it was close to disaster considering his love for the partially bloody, partially alive variety.
"Where are they?" Trowa asked, shaking the bottle of spices into the meat.
"Quatre's throwing up, Duo's cheering him on and Heero's mourning the loss of his recently sanitized bathroom. Care to tell me why you're late?"
"I made a visit," he answered. "Could you cut the lemons up for me?"
Wufei reached into one of the drawers for a knife before doing what was requested of him. All the while, they were silent, working on the meat and minding their own business. A few minutes later, Duo and Heero came in to join them. Duo was still chuckling a bit but had stopped his whoops of laughter from earlier.
"I thought he'd have his things packed up by now, Heero," Trowa said without looking back to face him.
"Who said he was coming with you?" Heero answered.
The room fell silent and all of a sudden Trowa felt like there was something he was missing. Whatever it was, he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He decided to break the silence.
"He's been with you three for a week each. Isn't it supposed to be my turn?"
"You know, Tro," Duo said. "With all those pictures of him around your place, he might feel a little, you know..."
"Uneasy," Wufei continued. "There are remnants of him all over your apartment."
Trowa paused and looked up to examine each of them. It was obvious they were trying to cover for each other. They really didn't have to voice out their true feelings toward the situation since their body language said it all. They were a little too tense, a little too nervous. Wufei had stopped cutting up the lemons and Duo was facing the fridge, seeming to look for something that wasn't there. Heero was the only one really looking straight at him.
"You're a very rational guy," Heero said, voicing out what the other two couldn't. "But when it comes to one particular person, you throw that rationality out the window. You've done it before and almost got yourself killed. I'm sure you'll do it again. There's no question about it."
"You think I'm going to fuck him," Trowa stated calmly and squeezed the cut up lemon into the meat before putting it back into the oven. "Give the meat ten more minutes," he instructed and then left without another word. It didn't matter to him what they thought of so he walked away from the kitchen and back into the living room.
He wasn't surprised to find Quatre sprawled on the couch, doing another one his calculations. The room he entered into a few minutes ago was now scattered with various papers. Quatre was currently chewing on the tip of a pencil and looking thoughtfully at the paper he was holding. Trowa simply watched him, not wanting to disturb. 'Sprawled on the couch' was one of his most favorite sceneries.
"You could at least tell me why you're staring," Quatre said after a few minutes of Trowa's viewing.
"You were throwing up when I arrived. I usually greet everyone when I come in," Trowa answered.
"Where's my greeting then," Quatre asked. When Trowa didn't answer, he put his pen down on the coffee table and looked at Trowa. "You're in a bad mood," he said. "Care to tell me why?"
"Not really," Trowa answered. He sat down across from Quatre and leaned back on the seat. "So tell me, it's been a couple of weeks and you're still not used to Heero's cooking. What exactly will it get you to stomach his recipes?"
"A few of those pills ought to do it. Could you hand me those bottles?" Quatre said.
"Just open your mouth. I'll toss them in," Trowa said as he began opening the bottles. "How many of each?"
Trowa was getting ready to shake the medication off their bottles when he realized that Quatre wasn't answering. He looked up to see his companion's adamant expression.
"No way!" Quatre finally said and reached his hand out to grab the bottles. "You're going to end up choking me or hitting one of my eyes."
"What, don't you trust my aim?" Trowa asked and he received a scowl in reply. "I'm not lying," he added. The man obviously didn't know how good an aim he had. If he could do it with guns then doing it with tiny pills wasn't going to be any harder.
Quatre yielded eventually and mumbled "one each," before letting out a big sigh. Trowa knew it was his chance.
"Open up," he said and Quatre did.
Four flicks of his finger later and Quatre had four different pills lined up straight in his tongue.
"Told you so," Trowa said as he left the startled and still open-mouthed Quatre.
He walked back into the kitchen to find the other three in the same places they were, seemingly contemplating their next move. Trowa was amused to find them so worked up over something he never even said. Perhaps he presented himself as neutral most of the time that they'd forgotten how to read his face and figure out if he was sincerely angry or not. He wanted them to feel a little sorry for what went on earlier but decided against it. Duo looked much too somber to play with at the moment.
"Hey," he said as he walked in on them with the same indifferent expression he had on when he left. "Since I can't fuck him, mother, can I at least take him out tomorrow?"
Duo was the first to snap out of it, abruptly turning his head toward Trowa.
"Jesus Christ Trowa!" he said. "You should've said you weren't pissed off at what Heero said. I thought you were going to twist my arm and break my legs while I wasn't looking. I almost pissed my pants thinking about what shit you were planning."
Trowa smirked.
"No use in getting angry. We're all blatantly honest bastards after all," he said.
"Who's the bastard?"
Four heads turned to the source of the voice and Duo put his hand over his chest. If their less than healthy ward was able to walk in on four of the best soldiers on the earth sphere then there was something seriously wrong with them.
"What, did I touch a sensitive topic?" Quatre asked.
"Trowa was just telling us that he wanted to take you out tomorrow and we were discussing the best place to situate you in case we run across any trouble."
Heero said the lie without fault and Trowa could almost see Duo's jaw drop.
"Really guys," Quatre said as he crossed the kitchen and made his way to the refrigerator. "Lighten up. You're all too uptight it's getting too creepy around here."
"Me, uptight?" Duo asked, being the first to react. "You obviously haven't spent enough time with me, buddy." He pat Quatre's back and then led him back into the living room. "I think I better stay away from those three for a while or else I'll turn into a seriously deranged life strategist myself."
Duo winked over Quatre's shoulder before disappearing into the living room.
"Good luck," Wufei said when the two were no longer in sight. "You're going to be with Lara tomorrow so I suggest that you act a little more accommodating."
Trowa nodded.
"No! You've got the angle all wrong," Duo's voice said from the living room. "With a diameter that small it's more likely that the bigger angle won't compensate for the impact it has to go through. Trust me on it. I used to repair my own mobile suit."
Trowa listened to the conversation from the living room. Duo certainly had a way of putting Quatre at ease. He only wished that Duo would do the same for him. He had no idea Quatre's friend was going to make an appearance on his day with Quatre. There was only one thing he could really do despite still being unable to accept her - deal with it.
===
"Exactly!"
It was confusing albeit a lot more enjoyable than he predicted. She was a gregarious woman with just the right amount of charm to win anyone over. She wasn't too loud but still talkative enough to fill in the awkward pauses Trowa found himself having. The experience was annoying and yet he was enjoying himself. Trowa had to ask himself why he hated her and loved her at the same time. It seemed recently that it had become one of the things he found most intolerable.
"That's what I told him and he wouldn't believe me!" Quatre said, stepping one foot behind to get a better view of their companion.
Trowa was situated between the two friends with Lara being closest to the passing shops and Quatre being furthest from the sidewalk. He didn't understand how he ended up between them when he was the only one who didn't care for the friendly conversation.
"He sounded unsure," Trowa answered, remembering that he needed a little input in the conversation. Otherwise, it would be rude to both his companions. "I don't keep up with the news so I'll trust both your word that what I thought was wrong."
Lara smiled a bright one.
"You've got to keep up with the current events Trowa or else you'll miss the important details that might concern you the most," she said.
Trowa nodded although he was not convinced. Politics did not interest him one bit and delving into the current events forced him to face certain facts he didn't care to know about. More importantly, gossip columns were the bane to his existence. They did nothing but drive him into madness. No one could ever tell if they were contrived or if they held a deeper truth.
"Ok you two, I've got to get back to work. Maybe we could go out again sometime. It was nice spending the afternoon with you too Trowa. Take care of Quatre for me," she said and winked at Quatre as she crossed the street and disappeared into one of the tall buildings around the area.
Maybe it was a bad idea to give her a hint on his interest in Quatre. All day she did nothing but make sure that they had something going on between them whether it be by accident or not. He was grateful in a way but he still felt like a little school boy trying to get the attention of his secret crush. He shuddered. It wasn't his style at all.
"Should we head back?" Quatre asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"We might as well make a quick stop for some lunch before heading back," Trowa suggested. His chances to be alone with Quatre were very few and he'd be stupid to miss any chance he got.
Not long after, they were seated at a restaurant, scrutinizing each other. Quatre, for the most part, was quiet for the first time that day and Trowa was equally as silent. It wasn't until a waiter came to refill Quatre's glass that either one said something.
"Trowa," Quatre started after taking a sip of his water. "Could I ask you something possibly personal?"
Trowa wiped his mouth with the napkin and then nodded. Quatre took it as a 'yes'.
"Who is zero-four?"
It was the last thing he thought Quatre would ask but then again, curiosity would lead anybody into questioning the arrangement of Trowa's team. They were composed of a zero-one, zero-two, zero-three and zero-five with the zero-four missing in between. It was plausible enough that maybe Quatre thought the oddity was simply an accident but Quatre was too thorough to let go of the slight distortion in the order.
"Zero-four has been missing in action for three years now," Trowa answered. The calm in his voice was unnerving, even to him. He knew that Quatre would have more questions following the first but he had long since decided that he wasn't going to hold any information from him even if it did devastate him to remember.
"He must have been someone special if you've chosen not to replace him."
Quatre was truly filled with surprises and Trowa couldn't help but look into the statement more closely. It left him wondering about the word 'replacement'. Was this Quatre giving hints or was he just an outsider, evaluating the actions of the people faced with the same situation?
"He was vital to our team," he said. "It was his strategies that made our operations more bearable than it was."
Quatre didn't look like he wanted to pry any further so the conversation was left unfinished. After paying their due and leaving the restaurant, the two walked in silence once again. Usually, the silence meant that they were comfortable walking with each other but Trowa knew it was different this time around.
"I'm sorry," Quatre said all of a sudden.
Trowa's ears picked up on the soft murmur. He didn't understand what exactly Quatre was sorry for. Was he going to confess something? Did he know something about the incident they talked about in the restaurant or was he just conjuring up too many possibilities to keep up with the one possibility he was hoping for.
"I'm sorry I dug up old memories," Quatre said. His face was sincere but it didn't hold the same apologetic look he thought he would find.
Trowa let out the breath he was holding and if Quatre noticed, he didn't say anything about it. Trowa looked at the street ahead of him. Looking closely, he noticed the world go by as it always did, leaving him behind with his fruitless hopes. Maybe it was time to let go, time to start anew.
He put his hands inside the pocket of his coat and took a glance at Quatre. The man was looking ahead of him. It was his only chance and he was willing to risk it.
"You know," Trowa said, making sure that he wasn't looking at Quatre as he said it. "There's something I've always loved and always hated about you."
He felt Quatre look at him while he was talking but he didn't dare look back.
"You remind me of someone," he continued and began to toy with the metal band that was on his ring finger. Quatre neither stopped him nor prompted him any further. For that act alone, he was grateful. That meant that Quatre was giving him a chance to decide what he needed to say on his own. He sighed and took a chance.
"My husband looked exactly like you," he said.