Happy Birthday To You

Happy Birthday To You

Happy Birthday Dear Shrimpy,

Happy Birthday To You!

...and now, for the conclusion of ...

Operation: Make Quatre a Guy! 3/3

It had been tense for a while, the ex-princess and the ex-terrorists struggling to find something to talk about. Remarkably, it had been Quatre to come across the one topic he had in common with Relena, and the relief of no longer worrying about what to say was enough to make him giddy. He nodded emphatically to what Relena had just said, saying, "I agree – personal hygiene is so important, I can't believe how many people out there refuse to take care of themselves. Why, the Maguanacs didn't have the first clue about proper plucking procedure until they met me!"

"I was wondering why they all looked so neat despite all that excess facial hair!"

Relena and Quatre beamed at each other. Truly, it was so nice to be understood.

Across the table, Wufei and Duo goggled in amazement. Of all the possible outcomes for the evening, neither had anticipated this one.

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Quatre hadn't got his kiss by the end of the night after all; at least, not the kind of kiss that Duo would find acceptable as proof of his 'manliness'. It had been a simple peck on his cheek as Relena said, "It's been so nice talking with you, Quatre – I feel as if we have a real connection, and hanging out with you is just like hanging out with my girlfriends back home. We have to do it again sometime!"

And Quatre had weakly nodded. Damn – he knew that Duo had somehow managed to hear the last bit in that uncanny way of his. Sighing, he made his way back to the linen closet. Hopefully, at least there Duo wouldn't be able to find him – and, consequently, wouldn't be able to rope him into some other insane 'mission'.

Except Heero was still in the linen closet when Quatre trudged in, and glared up at Quatre angrily. "She's still here."

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Of course she is, Heero. I invited her to stay the night. It's still, currently, night. You really have to get over your Relena-phobia some time soon."

"Hn." Heero shuddered. "She's unstable. No sane person runs after someone who threatens to kill them once every quarter hour."

"That may be so," Quatre quietly agreed. "Nonetheless, she won't stop chasing you until you can tell her why you're not interested in her and I believe she'll just continue to take 'I will kill you' as a term of endearment without clarification." He slid to the ground next to Heero with a sigh. "I only wish it were as easy with Duo…"

Heero snorted. "It is. He's taken up each of us as projects before, even you without your knowing it. Last year, he decided I needed to 'come out of my shell and have some fun.' I threatened to disembowel him with my spoon and he left me alone."

"Huh." Quatre looked thoughtful. "That doesn't sound like him, not really. He's too persistent to be deterred by threats of death."

"Especially when he considers himself death," Heero added wryly. "And now that you mention it, it did seem odd that he backed off so quickly."

Quatre frowned. "Last year… wasn't that about the time when the Preventors called you in on a special case and you got sent to ballroom dancing classes in an attempt to infiltrate a drug-smuggling ring? And then it turned out that the reports of drug-smuggling were totally unfounded, but only after you'd gone through the entire program?"

Heero blinked. "Yes…"

"Wow. Duo is one sneaky bastard."

When Quatre next looked over at Heero's face, he saw a consternated expression there; and, briefly, he smiled.

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Morning saw Relena's departure though she was disappointed that apparently Heero had skipped out on the reunion. Watching her taxi drive away, Quatre commented to a Heero crouching behind the front door, "Avoiding her will come back at you, you know. If Sally Po or Lady Une hears from Relena that you've been supposedly skipping meetings, they'll haul you in for more psychiatric counseling."

Hidden as he was, Quatre could still hear Heero's smirk through his voice. "That's assuming they can find me."

"If they're so easy to avoid, why bother coming to these reunions at all?" Quatre asked curiously. There was only a deep silence in answer, and Quatre flushed as he realized why. "Oh."

"Hn," Heero replied, and walked away.

Quatre stared after his retreating figure, lost in thought. It was true that none of them could really be constrained by the government. If any of them truly wished to disappear, completely and without a trace, it would be done. It might be harder for Quatre himself, given his extensive family and global public figure status, but it was still possible. They only stayed in the public eye because they wanted to – they only submitted to these constraints because they wanted to – they only showed up to the reunions because they wanted to, and this conscious realization of what Quatre had known unconsciously from the beginning made him glow warmly in his chest.

It was nice to know he had true friends.

Then Duo bounded up behind him, threw an arm over his shoulder and said into his ear, "Today's the next phase of making you into a guy, Quat!" and Quatre quickly changed his sentiment.

"This is ridiculous, Duo," he said. "I am a guy. You know I'm a guy. Just because I'm a particularly convincing cross-dresser doesn't mean that I'm not a guy!"

"Quatre. Buddy. You spent three hours talking about hair products last night. The girl you were supposed to seduce called you her 'girlfriend'. And – well, I wasn't going to say anything until later, but you know that lip balm you say your sister got you for the 'dry desert air'? It's lip gloss. Really. You've been wearing make up for god knows how long. You're not a guy."

"I am a guy," Quatre wailed pathetically. "I am!"

"What's this all about?" a familiar low voice interjected from the open doorway, and Quatre almost sobbed in relief as he realized that Trowa – wonderful, calm, sane Trowa was finally here.

Maybe now everything would begin to make sense again.

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"So you're trying to turn Quatre into a guy."

Trowa's voice, typically believed to be deadpan by those who barely knew him, held hints of incredulity that only the experienced could pick up. Duo beamed and nodded.

"Never mind the fact that Quatre is a guy."

Duo blinked, and Quatre went mentally, 'Ah hah! Try to convince Trowa that I'm not a guy!'

"Well," Duo said cautiously, "You have to admit that he's not that masculine."

"So says the guy with a braid down to his waist," Trowa pointed out with a faint smirk. Duo sputtered, and Quatre silently crowed in triumph.

"I – I keep my hair this long for a reason," Duo snapped defensively. "I'm one hundred percent guy!"

"Oh?" Trowa said mildly. "And to whom can you base your comparison? Who is your role model of being a guy?"

"Uh…" Duo faltered. "Well. There was Solo…" he chewed his lower lip. "But then he kind of died before hitting puberty, so I guess he doesn't really count… Um. Father Maxwell?"

"He was a priest," Trowa pointed out, "So I think that if he tried to do what you seem convinced is a guy-like thing to do – namely, seduction – he would have been expelled from the church."

"Huh. Well, there was G! And Howie!"

"Two old men more interested in machines and the war than anything else," Trowa said. He smiled lightly. "I'm beginning to think it's not Quatre with the misconceptions about what being a guy is all about."

Duo sputtered. Quatre grinned.

Things were looking up.

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Epilogue:

"I am not doing this!"

"You made me do it. Turnabout is fair play, Duet."

"Dammit, I get it, okay? I'm a girly-guy too! I'm not in denial anymore. I don't need to go through all this to prove that to me!"

"I think you really, really do. Now come on, let's see how many guys we can get to whistle at you."

"Arrrrrrgh!"