1Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. The lovely people at Bandai and Sunrise do.

Pairing: 1x3

Warnings: Yaoi, weirdness

Title: Reflection

Chapter: Pretty sure that it's a one-shot. So...1-1

Author's Note: Just something that popped into my head. Granted that towards the end I'm pretty sure that they're a bit OOC. Sorry about that, but it's hard to write a 1x3 fic and keep them in character. Please enjoy!

Click...click...click...

Heero paused, fingers poised above the keyboard of his ever-faithful laptop as he heard a soft creak from behind him. He shifted, glancing back over his shoulder at the small twin bed of the hotel room. The blankets were a tangle mass of shadows and dull white with an arm hanging over the side of the bed.

His eyes narrowed at that arm, letting his eyes trace all that the darkness allowed him to see, from the crook of the elbow, down to the long, nimble fingers. He stood, walking over, and looking down at the young man laying on the bed. He was asleep, his forehead tightened into a small frown as Heero watched, and he shifted again as another creak filled the room.

He reached down, gently moving the protruding arm back onto the bed, arranging the sheets as best he could around the limber frame of the older boy. When he was satisfied with his work, he took one final look at the teen, then returned to his laptop and was once again drawn into the endless database of the internet. He was searching for the girl...the last one on his list...the last one he needed to find...

His trail of thought and concentration was broken once again, this time by gentle hands resting on his shoulders. "You should be resting," the quiet voice told him.

Heero turned around slowly and looked up at Trowa, a small smirk flitting across his face before it once-again became cold and impassive. "I'm almost done, go back to sleep."

Trowa's eyes narrowed, the light from the laptop making them seem almost luminescent. "Your still healing Heero. You need to rest," he told him.

Heero narrowed his eyes as well. "I'll rest when I'm done," he replied. Trowa sighed, glaring at him.

"I'm not going to alter your opinion, am I?" he asked. At Heero's smirk he sighed, pulling up a plastic chair and looked at the laptop. "Who's our next target?" he asked.

"Sylvia Noventa. The youngest of the Noventa family and granddaughter to the late Noventa," he replied, scrolling through the file. Trowa nodded as Heero zoomed in on a picture taken of her, looking at the name of the school behind her, then cross-referencing it with the country she lived in. Finally he sat back, printing out a sheet of letters and numbers that only he would know and understand.

"Are you done now?" Trowa asked. Heero nodded and Trowa reached over, closing the laptop and to Heero's astonishment, picked up the smaller teen, depositing him on the bed. "Sleep." It wasn't a request, it was an order and Heero glared at him. Trowa settled back in a chair, watching the Japanese teen, silently willing him to rest.

Heero seemed to hear his silent pleas because after a few more minutes filled with glares, he turned over, pulling the blanket around him and drifted off. Trowa smiled briefly, letting his eyes wander over Heero. He'd healed fast, there was no denying it. Faster than most people could heal with those extensive injuries. Except for his arm. Granted, it had been broken and torn apart, but compared to his other, more serious injuries, it should've already been healed. Trowa sighed, stretching his legs out and directing his gaze out the window at the city they were staying at.

It was dark when he was jolted awake. It took him a minute to realize what it was that had woken him, but when he saw the occupant of the bed tossing and turning, muffled cries escaping his lips, he knew immediately why he'd woken. The same thing had happened once at the Circus and he knelt next to the bed, reaching out, lightly pushing back on Heero's shoulders, forcing him to lay back.

"Heero...Heero..." he called quietly. Heero's eyes were wide open, his gaze searching the ceiling, walls, and darkness for a familiar face, or voice, or...something. Trowa sighed, leaning forward, making eye contact with Heero, and gave him a brief smile. "It's okay Heero. It's okay. Go back to sleep."

The face relaxed a bit and the eyes closed once again, breathing evening out into a steady, rhythmical rise-and-fall of the chest. Trowa settled back, eyeing Heero again. He knew that Heero wouldn't remember this occurrence, he hadn't at the Circus, not until Trowa brought it up. After that, it never happened again. If he mentioned it tomorrow morning, would Heero shove the thoughts, memories, dreams, whatever it was that was giving him these fits, away? If he didn't, would it occur again?

He sighed, getting up and opening the window, sitting on the sill. Heero mumbled under his breath, and Trowa watched him again. His face was relaxed, looking completely at ease, unlike the look he usually wore during the day. Dark brown hair fell over his eyes and framed his pale face and Trowa had the sudden urge to brush back that hair, to kiss that mouth and he froze, staring at Heero in shock.

Have I gone insane? he asked himself silently, shaking his head to clear it and looking out the window at the lighted up city that stretched for miles around them.

He hadn't, he knew that. He'd know since the moment he'd first picked up the battered body of Pilot 01, Heero Yuy, on that battlefield, that there was something about the boy that drew him to him like a magnet. He swallowed, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He hadn't realized it at first, writing it off as a simple infatuation, an admiration that had grown and mutated, taking over his heart. But now he knew. He knew for certain that he had it for th younger pilot. And he had it bad.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaak...

He looked over at the bed again and raised an eyebrow at the now standing Heero Yuy. "Your awake," he said calmly.

Heero shrugged, going over to Trowa and leaning against the wall. "Couldn't sleep," he replied after a moment.

"Bad dreams?"

"Hn."

"Heero, you can tell me, you know."

"There's nothing to tell."

"It happened again, like at the Circus. You call that 'nothing'?"

"It has nothing to do with you Trowa. Drop it."

"Heero, I won't drop it."

"Why? It shouldn't matter to you."

"It does though, so just tell me."

Heero paused looking at Trowa and Trowa swallowed. "This isn't like you. You don't like prying. Why are you starting now?"

"Because...Because I want to know that your...alright..." Trowa mumbled, not meeting Heero's eyes.

"I'm fine."

Heero turned away, glancing over at the laptop and then back at Trowa. "Your not fine Heero. Your plagued by these dreams or memories, or something at night and you won't tell me what they're about. And I can't help you if I don't know what it is."

"I don't need help Trowa."

Trowa dipped his head down, nodding a little. He didn't want to let the hurt show in his eyes. He was supposed to be the enigmatic one. The one who had the perfect mask and didn't care what anyone did or said. He was supposed to...

Gentle, callused hands tilted his face up and soft lips brushed against his own. He gasped, meeting Heero's eyes and Heero gave a small, brief smile. "Thanks for caring," he whispered, pulling back and looking out the window at the rising sun.

Trowa nodded numbly, staring at Heero. Emotions and feelings churned in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed. Never had he been more confused in his life than he was at this moment. Never had he felt so many different things revolting inside his own body, crying out for escape and attention.

Never had he been more happy.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the fic. Please review! Thank you.