A/N- As promised, a special guest appearance by Miss Mint Maxwell. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer- Not mine, don't sue, got nothing.

Small Packages
Chapter 8

Salina placed the plate in front of Megan. The little girl stared dolefully at the left over roasted lamb from the previous night. She picked up her fork and poked at it suspiciously before speaking. "Miss Salina?"

"Yes, little love?" The housekeeper glanced at her from where she stood at the counter chopping vegetables for the evening meal.

"May I have a ham sandwich?" Megan's lips curled into a distasteful grimace. "I don't like this."

"I'm sorry, Megan. But we don't keep pork in this house." Salina smiled gently to the girl.

Megan's expression turned into a frown. "I don't want pork… I want ham." She insisted quietly.

"Ham is made from pork, Megan. We don't eat it." Salina persisted, her tone still soft.

"You may eat what is set before you as your father instructed before he left this morning."

Megan dropped her fork to the table with a loud clatter and glared defiantly. "I don't want it. Fix me something else." She pouted and paused before adding the last word. "Please."

The dark haired woman laid her knife on the table and turned to face Megan, her smile disappearing. "Megan, it is fine if you don't like it. But until Mr. Kurama returns from the market with more groceries, this is all we have."

It was at that point that Amala spoke up. "I don't like it either, Mama. It tastes funny."

Salina sighed heavily and turned her gaze to her own daughter. "Amala, the same rules apply to you."

"I don't care!" Amala's face twisted as she whined.

"Amala Rachel! You know better than to speak to me in such a manner. One more word and you will go to your room for the rest of the afternoon. Alone. Is that clear?"

The child nodded sullenly and picked up her fork. Salina returned her gaze to Megan. "The same goes for you, Megan. You will eat what is given to you."

She stared at Salina steadily as she reached for her fork. Salina breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to her food preparations. There was silence for a moment before something wet hit her on the side of the face. She reached up and touched her cheek, pulling her hand away to find it sticky with mashed potatoes. She silently placed the knife on the cutting board once again and turned to regard the two children. "All right. Which one of you was it?"

Two guilty faces stared at her unspeaking. Salina arched a brow, giving it a few seconds longer. "Amala? Did you throw that?"

Amala shook her head. Salina shifted her gaze to Megan. Master Trowa's daughter mimicked her arched brow. "Megan? Did you throw the potatoes?"

"No ma'am, I didn't."

Salina's brow furrowed as she struggled to retain her patience. "Someone threw the potatoes at me. One of you crossed the line by throwing the potatoes. Then worsened it for yourself by lying. The other is lying by omitting the truth which is even worse than throwing the food in the first place. Now tell me who it was or I will inform your fathers and let them handle you. I scarcely believe that either one of them will take lightly the manner in which you would treat an adult."

Megan's face twisted in rage as she blurted out. "But that's not fair! You can't punish both of us. Babu won't let you punish me."

Salina fought back a smirk. There was the guilty party right there. Megan hadn't had a nap yet and was more than likely tired, but she possessed an innate moral code that wouldn't allow her to get her friend into undue trouble. "Megan, your Papa and your Babu both trust me with your well being and that extends to punishment for lying as well as being disrespectful. Now you will eat your food and then go for a nap. I will inform your fathers when they return home. I'll hear no more of it."

The Arabic woman reached for a towel and wiped her face clean, watching as Megan's eyes dropped back to her plate. She began to shovel her food into her mouth methodically, taking no time to taste it. Ten minutes later Megan pushed her plate away. "I'm finished. May I go play?"

"No. Little girls who misbehave get sent to their rooms and you need a nap anyway. Go upstairs and get in the bed. I'll be up shortly to tuck you in."

"I don't want a nap! I'm not a baby and I'm not tired!" Megan banged a tiny fist on the table. Salina glanced to her own daughter. "Amala, go to bed. I'll wake you in an hour."

"Yes, Mama." Amala slid from her seat, abandoning her now empty plate and climbed the stairs to their quarters.

Salina covered the distance to the table in a few strides and knelt in front of Megan, setting her face into a firm expression and purposefully keeping her voice low. "Megan, it is time for you to take a nap. You may play after you wake up but for now you need to rest."

"NO!" The little girl launched herself at Salina in a flurry of flying arms and legs.

"You're not my mommy and you can't tell me what to do! I want my mommy!"

The woman caught Megan smoothly as she flew out of the chair. She wrapped her arms round the tiny body. "Megan, try to calm down."

"No! I want my Mama. I don't want you. I want Mama. Let me go." The small girl within Salina's grasp suddenly dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs. She began sobbing inconsolably, great hiccupping sobs shaking her entire frame. "I want Mama."

Salina rose with the girl, cradling her tightly to her chest and rocking her gently as she slid into a chair. "Little Heart, I'm sorry. I know that it hurts. Shh… Aunt Salina's here, baby. You just go ahead and cry." The woman's heart ached for the child, yet at the same time she knew that it shouldn't be her, but the girl's father who was holding her at a time like this.

Trowa entered the house, frowning as he went. Breakfast had not gone well and had stretched into a 5 hour long ordeal, mostly consisting of Wufei making snide remarks about his honor and Heero glaring in judgment. Duo had been entirely too vocal as well. He heard the screams of a child from the back of the house as he entered. Vaguely he wondered what Amala would throw a tantrum about. Until he heard the screams form words. "I want Mama ! Let me go!"

Panic overtook him. His heart froze as he realized it was Megan's voice. Before a thought could form he broke into a run, racing for the source of the sound. He skidded to a halt in the kitchen, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Megan wrapped tightly in Salina's arms. The woman made no move to acknowledge him as she usually did. She murmured unheard words into the girls ears as Megan began to tremble and wail. Trowa stepped closer. Salina rose from the chair and moved towards him. Reflexively he extended his arms to accept his daughter. She gave a frightened cry. "NO! Mama!"

"Shh, little heart, your Papa is here. He will make everything better." Trowa's panic soared. How was he supposed to make everything better when he didn't even know why she was crying? He couldn't even stop Catherine from crying and she was a grown woman fully capable of articulating what was wrong!

The solid weight of Megan settled into his arms. Her legs curled around his waist as she hooked her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, the sobs growing in volume. The sheer force of her trembling scared him. Wildly his eyes flickered to Salina. "Should I call a doctor?"

Salina shook her head. "Just hold her. She'll be all right. She's missing her mother. I put a rocking chair in her room this morning. Use that."

Trowa swallowed hard and nodded. He retreated to the stairs, moving carefully in awareness of his burden. Not a moment too soon he dropped into the rocker and set it into motion. Megan shifted to curl into his arms, molding her frame to his. He tightened his grip as he searched for words. What did one say to a heart broken child anyway? Unbidden memories rose to his mind. What had he missed in not having a mother or a father? When he'd met Midii Une, his heart had hurt to know she'd betrayed him. He'd wished acutely for someone to make it feel better, but there was no one.

Megan's sobs brought him back to the present. A few stray curls had fallen free of her braid. He brushed the hair back from her face. The motion seemed to spark something in her. She buried her face further into his chest and drew in a heavy breath. He tried the stroking motion again on the back of her head. Okay, this was a definite start. Progress. He patted her back gently, careful of the pressure of his casted arm on her small frame. Only after she'd calmed a little did he speak. "I'm sorry you hurt, Megan."

She began sobbing again. His heart sank. Okay, progress undone. Her hands fisted in his t-shirt as she hiccupped violently. He lowered his head to drop a kiss to the top of her head. "It's okay, little bit." The action seemed to help. He set his hands into motion again, smoothing down the hair the haloed out from the top of her head. "I promise everything will be better soon." The sound of his voice appeared to be as soothing as the movement of the stroking and the motion of the rocking. "You're not alone. Papa's got you, Baby."

He murmured nonsensical words into her hair for a few more minutes before he realized that her hair was wet. He lifted his hand and scrubbed at his eyes. Amazing. Not only did his heart hurt because she cried, but he'd cried with her. What did it mean? He continued rocking, mulling over this strange occurrence. He only ever cried when Quatre was injured, or the time Catherine had been in the car accident. She hadn't been injured badly, but it had scared him. That what it was. He was afraid, but not for himself. He was scared for Megan.

Trowa realized then that Megan's sobs had ceased. He glanced down in sudden fear. Was she okay? He tipped her head back and sighed in relief to find that her eyes were closed and her breathing even. She had fallen asleep. He remained in the chair, rocking, for a few more minutes before rising carefully from the chair and moving to deposit her on the bed. He pulled the lightweight blanket from the bottom and covered her with it. He stood awkwardly for a moment before smoothing her brow with his hand. He retreated from the room and made his way towards his room. He had some serious thinking to do.

Duo knocked lightly on Quatre's office door. He received a muffled reply. "Come in."

He let himself into the large corner office and grinned at his friend in greeting. Quatre waved back then motioned for him to take a seat. One hand covered the receiver of the phone as he whispered. "I'll only be a moment. Help yourself to coffee." Duo detoured to the coffee pot and poured himself a large mug of the potent brew.

Quatre's voice was firm. "Minister Spalding, I've made my position quite clear. I will pursue legal action if need be, but I would prefer that the situation not escalate that far. Now, if you will excuse me, my 2 o'clock meeting is about to begin and I can't keep my investors waiting."

There was considerable squawking from the other end of the phone. Duo suppressed a snort of laughter. Quatre scowled at him briefly and then spoke once more. "Have the documents on my desk no later than the end of the week and perhaps I will consider the matter further. Until then, I bid you good day." The phone was placed on the cradle with no small amount of force. The blond man pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Duo, what brings you by?"

"I was hoping I might persuade you to take a walk with me. There's a café on the corner that just opened. I hear they make a mean cup of java."

Quatre glanced to the pile of work on his desk. He spoke wearily. "I'm absolutely swamped here. Can I take a rain check?"

Duo took in the organized disarray and shook his head. "No. This is important." His voice was soft. "I didn't come here to chat."

Sensing the seriousness in Duo's tone, Quatre resolutely snapped the lid of his laptop shut and rose from his chair. He rebut toned the collar of his shirt and straightened his tie. After adjusting the shoulder holster he wore, he slipped on the his jacket. "Lead the way."

The two men exited the office in silence, neither speaking until the were seated in the café. Quatre signaled for the waitress and placed an order for two straight double espressos. The young woman whistled lightly and arched a brow in question. "You sure you want that much caffeine, Mister? You do know that there's more caffeine in one shot of that stuff than in an entire pot of regular brew, right?"

Duo glanced at the nametag on the petite woman's apron. "Miss…Mint?" He furrowed his brow in disbelief. "Your parents actually named you Mint?"

The young woman gave a friendly laugh. "It's a nickname. My full name is a tongue twister."

Quatre watched helplessly as his friend displayed his usual alacrity for being easily distracted.

Duo grinned cheekily. "Try me."

Mint smirked. "My real name is Peppermint Patricia Pettigrew-Parker-Maxwell."

Duo's eyes grew round. "That's… okay, you were right. It's a mouthful… Peppermint Patty, eh?"

"Yup. Anyway about those drinks?" Mint tapped her pen to her order pad, skillfully steering the conversation back on track. "Would you rather try our unleaded version for those doubles?"

Duo grinned. "I'd prefer leaded, thanks though."

Quatre nodded in agreement. "Regular is fine, thank you."

"Coming right up." Mint turned and flounced back inside the café, leaving them at their sidewalk table.

Duo snickered. "Interesting character."

Quatre glanced through the window to where the you woman was dutifully setting to work on their drinks. He shrugged lightly. "I suppose. So what did you want to see me about?"

Amethyst eyes grew serious. "I stopped by your place this morning. Imagine my shock and awe when I saw a very small person that looked a lot like Trowa. The imagine the degrees by which my shock and awe grew when this very small person called him 'Papa'."

The Arabian man's brow smoothed in understanding. "You met Megan then, I take it."

"Yeah. Cute kid."

Quatre nodded in agreement. "She is cute. She's also very sweet."

"Yeah. She seems to be. She's what, six?"

Another nod. "Cut the crap, Duo. Get to the point."

The braided man straightened and leaned forward, pinning Quatre with his gaze. "My point is, that you can not let Trowa throw this child away. It would be the biggest mistake of his life and he would regret it forever."

Mint cursed at the espresso machine as it spewed scalding water at her for the 3rd time in less than an hour. "Dammit! Frankie, I thought you fixed this machine!"

"I have to replace the hose, and I can't do that until Katy gets back from the hardware store. I put a sign on it!" The irritated voice came from the workroom in the back of the café.

Mint stood on tiptoe to glare at the top of the machine. "Frankie!" Her tone was rueful. "A stamp sized post-it note stuck on top of the machine does not a sign make."

"Just use the other machine." Frankie's voice was more muffled, presumably from the dough machine being turned on. Mint sighed heavily and moved to the other espresso machine, her gaze flickering outward to the pair of men that sat at one of the sidewalk table engaged in serious conversation.

The braided one was hot. There was no two ways about it. And he'd been friendly, strange purple eyes sparkling in mischievousness when he'd spoken. The quiet blond was just as good looking, though he'd sounded slightly fatigued when he'd placed their order. The young woman sighed. Why couldn't she find a guy like that? A nice, normal, straight guy. Was it really so much to ask?

Quatre sighed again. "Duo, it's not that simple. And please don't imply that I would exert that kind of control over my husband."

"That's not what I mean and you know it, you grump." Duo's frown deepened. "I know you have this thing about not pushing Trowa in a direction he doesn't want to go, but this is a very serious matter."

"I know that. And that's exactly why I am not going to try to sway him. Whether or not he keeps Megan is a decision that only he can make. I'm not happy about having to take a back seat to this matter."

"Well then don't take a back seat. Quatre, you and Trowa have talked about kids. This is your chance to have one that is related to at least one of your by blood. He doesn't have anyone except Catherine and the four of us. He doesn't know what a real family is like beyond the sphere of our little group."

"Our little group is more than a lot of people have, Duo." Quatre spoke more sharply than he meant to. He fell silent at the approach of their waitress, sparing her a tight smile as she deposited the drinks on the table. She seemed to sense the seriousness of their discussion and retreated back into the café without a word. He waited until she was gone to continue, his tone gentler. "I understand why you're so passionate about this. But be that as it may, I will not go back on a vow that I take very seriously even if it means losing a little girl I've already fallen in love with."

Duo sat back in his seat, spine rigid. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Quatre held his hand up. "No, I'm not finished. Wait until I'm done." As though to make his point the blond man took a sip of his coffee in silence.

"Trowa is more than my husband, Duo. He's my match, my soul mate. He's stood by me and let me make my mistakes. Then he's helped me pick up the pieces and move on. And he's done it all without trying to influence my decisions. It's a promise we made to one another when we first began dating, it's served us well for the last 5 years and it will continue to do so for a long time to come. I have an opinion on the matter. One that I will not share with anyone other than him until the time comes. But know this, my friend. I will not be swayed by the pleadings of anyone, be it you whom I love as a brother or Trowa who I would lay my life down for without blinking."

Duo remained quiet. The ferocity left Quatre's voice as he continued. "Duo, I love Trowa. And I love you, all of you. But please don't ask me to do something that you know goes against the very essence of who I am."

There was a moment of tense silence before Duo spoke. "Are you finished?"

Quatre nodded and reached for his mug of espresso. "Yes."

Duo set his now empty cup down and pushed it aside. He released a heavy-hearted sigh. "You're right and I'm sorry. I just can't help it, Quat. I don't want Trowa to have to live the rest of his life knowing what he's given up."

The blond sipped calmly. "I understand that. But Duo, you have to remember that he hasn't made a decision yet. When he does, I promise you'll know immediately. And when that happens. He's going to need you there to help him with whatever he has to go through. Be it Megan's dealing with the trauma of losing her mother and her adolescence or Trowa signing papers to turn custody of her over to someone else. Neither choice is an easy path, but it is his to walk… it is our job to make sure he doesn't have to go it alone and to back him up when he makes it. Do you understand?"

The American man cleared hi throat and nodded. "Yeah, Quat. I get it."

Quatre reached for the bill, but found his hand pushed away. His eyes landed on Duo, who shrugged ruefully. "Let me get it. It's the least I can do after riling you up and adding to your stress level today."

"Thanks." He hesitated a moment before rising from his seat. "And thank you also, for trying to understand."

Duo cocked his head to the side and grinned contritely, "It's what friends do, Quat. Argue and then get over it."

Quatre chuckled quietly, before being knocked aside by a running figure. He reached a hand out to steady himself. Another form tore past him. He vaguely recognized the green haired woman that yelled angrily as she gave chase to the retreating man. "THIEF!"

Packets of sugar pelted the sidewalk as she threw them after him, in an oh-so-well thought out plan of attack. The robber darted into the street. Quatre's eyes widened as he watched their waitress hurl herself blindly into oncoming traffic in her pursuit. Duo's frantic voice set him into motion. "TRUCK!"

He darted forward, sped on by adrenaline and was on her in a moment, using his momentum to push them across the narrow one-way street. He twisted his body roughly to soften the impact of the curb on the other side. The woman shrieked above him. A few yards away, he vaguely heard the sickening crunch of bone on concrete as Duo tackled the thief to the ground. Inwardly, Quatre winced, though whether is was from the knowledge that the would-be criminal had probably just been hurt in a bad way or the fact that the wind was gone from his body he did not know. He opened his eyes and groaned out loud. The woman's frame was deceptively small, yet their combined weight made it feel like a few ribs had been cracked on impact.

The woman scrambled off him, wide-eyed. She swung her head to stare in bewilderment at the Mack truck the screeched to a halt a few feet away. The driver rounded the front of the vehicle, cursing loudly. Quatre released another groan and let his head fall back to the concrete. So much for his good day.

Duo kicked the unconscious perpetrator for good measure and grinned darkly. "Do not fuck with Shinigami, Bitch." He unsnapped the leather pouch at his waist and grabbed the man by his broken arm, dragging him roughly across the sidewalk to cuff him to a parking meter. A crowd was rapidly gathering. He swiped at his mouth, not surprised to find his arm smeared with blood. His face had bounced off the man's head when he'd launched himself into a full tackle. The jackass hadn't stood a chance.

He snorted darkly and reached for his cell phone. He glanced behind himself as he hit the speed dial. Quatre lay half on the curb, half in the street, clutching his ribs. The waitress had a hand to her head, blood running freely from an obvious head wound.

"Preventers HQ, what is your emergency."

"This is Agent Maxwell, there's been an attempted robbery at…" He glanced to the block number. "the 1500 block of Markham Avenue. I've got a man down and civilian injury. Requesting EMT dispatch and back up for containment of the crime scene. The suspect is unconscious and restrained."

"Copy that, Agent Maxwell. Agents Chang and Yuy have responded to the call and will provide back up. Render assistance until back up arrives."

Duo disconnected the call and turned the address the growing crowd of onlookers. "Don't approach the jackass attached to the meter and above all, do NOT speak to him or come within 10 feet of him." He fished his badge from beneath his shirt where it was attached to a lanyard. "Stick around. We'll need statements from all of you."

With those words he sprinted back to where Quatre lay. The blond man was dazed. Duo knelt next to him and studied him for a moment before nodding. "Your ribs?"

Quatre nodded. "I broke a couple I think."

The braided man moved to the waitress, he gently lifted her bloodied hand away from her temple and lifted the edge of her apron, wiping some of the blood away to get a closer look. "It's just a scratch. I think you'll be okay. The paramedics will be here in a few minutes, just sit tight."

The girl blinked a few times, then focused her gaze on Quatre, who was pushing himself gingerly into a seated position. Hew eyes grew wide. "You saved my life."

Quatre grimaced, her words apparently unheard. Duo was not surprised to find himself pushed out of the way and caught himself easily with one hand. He watched at Peppermint Patricia Pettigrew-Parker-Maxwell crawled the short distance to Quatre and hugged him tightly. The blond man hissed in obvious pain but did not push her away. Cerulean eyes begged Duo in mute agony to please peel the woman off him. Duo chuckled and shook his head. Quatre whimpered loudly as he was squeezed even tighter. "Thank you."

When he groaned the woman released him, her eyes wide. "Oh God. I hurt you." She pushed herself away. "I'm sorry."

The blond's eyes fluttered closed for a moment while he evened out his breathing to regain control of himself. He opened his eyes once more and shook his head nonchalantly. "It's all right. I'm just glad you weren't hurt badly."

Mint's eyes flickered to Duo. "You got him?"

"Yeah. He's not going to cause anyone anymore trouble." Duo stated gently as he moved close to Quatre once more. He helped his friend sit upright and ran his hands lightly over the wounded area. "You'll be fine, Quat. We'll get you to the hospital and get your ribs taped. You'll be all right."