To Dark-Spiritwolf- I'll try, dearheart, really, I will.

To Mikol- Yes, another chapter. I love the plot, too. You no know Gundam Wing? Poor baby. Patpat. I'll try my very hardest to write up the next chapter, just especially for you.


Mariemaia strode haughtily down the street, managing to look spoiled rotten and extremely wealthy despite the fact that she wasn't even wearing shoes. Quatre had to admire that kind of acting ability as he walked behind her, trying to look threatening enough to stop trouble before it started.

Apparently at random, the orange-haired girl turned and slipped into a shop, beckoning for Quatre to follow.

It was a small store, a bit better kept than those around it, and seemed to specialize in survival. The walls were lined with barrels of dried goods and hung with weapons and tools. The plain wooden counter stood under an impressive display of clothing, all designed specifically for wear in the jungle. There were even saddles and horse tack in one corner. It was well-lit, and Quatre would have bet money that the lanterns were for sale, too.

There was only one other person in the store; probably the owner. He was tall, thin, and deeply tanned, with brown hair that swept down from his forehead to hide half of his face. His visible eye, when he turned at the sound of the door, was brilliant emerald, and seemed to stare right through Quatre and into the very depths of his soul.

"May I serve you, my Lady?" The man asked with a graceful bow in Mariemaia's direction.

"I'll need two horses, provisions enough to reach the capital, and a new wardrobe." She said, the air of smug superiority evident even in her speech. "My guard needs new arms; he can tell you what kind. I'll also pay for the name of a trustworthy inn."

"Certainly, my Lady." The brunette said, and Quatre was positive he smiled ever so slightly.

Mariemaia motioned sharply at him, indicating that he was to do the bargaining. He was suddenly grateful for all the times Heero had taken him to the market, for without that practice, he'd be lost. As it was, he held his own fairly well. At the end, he knew he was still being cheated, but not by nearly as much as he'd feared.

"I'll want to see the horses before we buy them." He added.

"I would expect no less from as fine a horseman as you, your Highness." The brunette said, smiling at Quatre's surprise. "I must say, you drive a good bargain, for a royal."

"Thank you," Quatre said a bit uncertainly, glancing at Mariemaia. She was smiling encouragingly.

"Don't worry, your Highness; no one can hear us. The man who built this shop made sure of that. The horses are stabled out back. Catherine!"

A girl about Mariemaia's size came running out from behind a cleverly hidden curtain, panting. She was a sweet-looking child, with blue-gray eyes and curly hair several shades darker than the man's.

"Yes, brother?" She asked breathlessly.

"The lady needs provisions for eight days and gear for two horses. Think you can get it on your own?"

"Yes!" Catherine said, her face lighting up. "I won't spill anything this time, I promise! Just you watch, Trowa, I can do it!"

Trowa smiled affectionately at her and patted her on the head. "I trust you, Catherine. But don't try to get at the bridles; you're still too short."

Catherine pouted, but didn't object. She scampered around the counter and immediately began her task, while Trowa motioned for Quatre to follow him through the hidden curtain.

"Mariemaia will be safe with Catherine." Trowa said softly. "No one's won a fight in close quarters against her in more than a year."

"That little girl?" Quatre demanded in disbelief, glancing back in the direction of the store proper.

"She's very skilled with her throwing knives." Trowa assured him. "I'll trust you to choose your own horses, but be quick about it. Someone's bound to have figured out that she'd come here, and I'd rather you weren't in my store when the pursuit shows up."


Trowa stood to one side, watching the Prince of Arabia. The boy knew horses, that much was certain, but Trowa still worried. From what he'd heard, Prince Quatre wasn't big on fighting, and he was bound to run into someone unfriendly; probably several someones, and most likely at the same time.

"What do you call this one?" Prince Quatre asked, patting the neck of a sandy Arabian mare. The horse leaned into the caress, her eyes untroubled by the fact that a stranger was standing next to her.

"Sandrock." Trowa said. "She's steady and fast, but she bites."

The prince said something in Arabic, and laughed when Sandrock turned and lipped his sleeve.

"I'll take her. You know Mariemaia better than I do; which mount would you recommend for her?"

Trowa thought for a moment, looking over his small stable. Sandrock snorted softly, and another horse answered- a showy dapple gray with a white mane and tail. Catherine had named him Tallgeese and learned to ride on him. He was getting on in years, but he still ran like the wind, and could certainly pass for the mount of a noblewoman. Besides, he and Sandrock got along fairly well. She'd even dropped him a foal last year.

"Tallgeese."


With only Duo, who was used to discomfort, along, Heero made good time. Had he been alone, he probably would have ridden far into the night instead of camping at sunset, and eaten in the saddle when he ate at all. Every other time he'd gone to the Romefeller jungles, both he and his mount had arrived exhausted.

Heero's body, if not his sense of duty, thanked Duo's persistent mothering. It was probably the closest thing he'd had to a vacation since his first mission for the Crown.

"Man, am I glad to see trees." Duo muttered. "I'm all for the desert, but give me a nice, shady jungle any day of the week. The humidity's gonna be murder on my hair, though."

Heero couldn't help but smile. Duo's one vanity – and his most attractive physical feature – was his hair. It was sleek, straight, dark brown, and reached nearly to his knees. He customarily wore it in a braid that he only undid when he washed it.

"I see you smirking at me, Ro, and you can just stop it." Duo said huffily. "Remember, when my hair starts frizzing out and tangling for no good reason, you're going to have to listen to me complain."

"True." Heero agreed without a trace of the humor he was feeling. Sure, it wasn't nice to laugh at someone else's expense, but the theatrics Duo put on when it came to his hair were just too amusing.

"You'll still love me when I'm grouchy and frizzy-haired, right?" Duo asked with every outward appearance of being distraught. His eyes, however, were full of laughter.

"Hn."

"Oh, Heero, I knew you cared! Now, we'll be in town soon, and I know how you feel about public displays of affection, so before we go one step further, you're going to kiss me, understood?"


Teehee.