AN: Well, your eyes aren't decieving you. Yes, Effexxor has updated Israel. I'm amazed too. Enjoy! (And I've just re-edited the ending because the way it was, it would end way too sappy. Sorry!)

"That's it. I've had it with this place." Quatre threw the wet towel which'd been laying on his forehead aside and sat up sharply. His hair was dark with sweat and lay flat and limp against his face and his skin was flushed but his eyes were sparked.

"And what are you going to do about that?" grumbled his roommate who sat in front of two fans in his attempt to beat the heat.

Quatre leaned over his bed and scooted his wheelchair over. Carefully, he lowered himself down to rest in the upscale wheeled cart and flashed Trowa a grin. "I'm going to go to the zoo. That's what I'm doing about it. And you're coming with."

Trowa's back went taut as he sat up straight, looking at Quatre with unbridled shock. "You're going where?"

There was a wide smile on Quatre's face after he popped his head through the tshirt he'd been putting on. "To the zoo. And you're coming with, so get out of the hospital gown. It's not nice to scare the children while walking around with your ass hanging out."

"Alright. You're dehydrated and delirious. Quatre, listen. We're in a hospital right now for a reason. Remember?" Trowa had spoken very slowly and clearly. Sunstroke was supposed to make people go a little loopy and with this heat, that was a good reason for Quatre's delirium.

"Oh, I remember. But we're in here by chance and thus, we are able to come and go as we please. And frankly, if I spend one more second in this place, I will go insane. So come on Trowa, get dressed."

He wasn't sure why. Really he wasn't. But he obeyed anyway and slipped on an old tshirt of his, trying to ignore the triumphant grin on Quatre's face. "So are we just going to leave or do we have to fill out paperwork or…. What?"

"We're going to leave them a note, out of courtesy." was his reply and Quat began to rifle through the drawers beside his bed. "Then, we're going to sign out at the front desk and go. If we get into trouble, we'll call them." He squirmed with joy once he found a pack of hospital stationary and a pen. "So. We're going to say in this letter that we're sick and tired of sitting around here and sweating all day. Anything you'd like me to add?"

This question caught Trowa in mid zip of his fly. He zipped up the last inch before carefully answering, "Tell Chang I'm taking my Vicodin just in case."

"Brilliant! Medication!" Quatre studiously scribbled on the page. "I'll tell Maxwell that I have some pain killers too." After taking a moment to read and read the note, Quatre nodded in satisfaction. "Okay. Time for our breakout."

Trowa hurried after Quat who was speeding down the hallways. This was a nice change in the character of his roommate, honestly. All he'd been was passive lately, and frankly that was boring. This however was interesting and there was a light back into his eyes, albeit a look that was obviously up to something.

If anything was going to snap Quatre out of his self loathing attitude, it would be this current heat wave. B'nai hospital was very state of the art, but in the latest renovations, they'd forgotten one very important thing to update.

The air conditioning.

The AC unit had broke a week ago, which coincided with the latest heat wave perfectly. They have five different fans up in their room all at full blast but nothing was able to tame the repressive heat.

The elevator chimed merrily as the small metal box reached their floor. The doors swung open and Quatre rolled himself in over the bumpy door with no problems. Trowa leaned against the cool metal of the walls and patiently for the first floor. Their silence was not quite uncomfortable but it wasn't particulariy peaceful either and Trowa was absolutely stumped as to why Quatre had chosen him to go to the zoo with.

He wasn't a good conversationalist and he was socially awkward and he just wasn't an interesting person. Even at the university, surrounded by other reluctant savants, he hadn't fit in. Whether it was his odd upbringing or his own tendency to become a hermit was beyond the point. Trowa was just an odd person.

With a shake of his head he attempted to shoo away the depressing thoughts. Rather he began to think about the speed that their elevator was falling down. Each floor had to be about 12 feet tall, give or take a few because of the various ducts and insulation in the wall. It took them 4 seconds to go from the third floor to the second and with that data he could-

"Trowa?"

His head snapped up to see Quatre already out of the elevator, holding the door open with a wheel. Light shined in from the windows of the lobby and lit his hair. Quatre was beautiful.

"Trowa, are you alright?" His blonde eyebrows were furrowing.

His return to conciousness came back with a snap and he walked out of the elevator stiffly, like a wooden doll, "Yes, I am alright."

"Ooookay." Quatre shook his head and pivoted his wheelchair towards the front desk. Trowa followed obediently, noticing the piece of modern art above the front desk. A Mark Franz print most likely, he was best known for his blue horses and there was a blue horse in the picture.

The horse stood at a slight slant, head turned in a coy fashion. Brilliant lines of red and green lashed through the picture, followed by a yellow hill in the background. An inconspicuous plant sat beside the horse, the curve in the leave following the line of the horse's neck.

He looked down, and Quatre was signing something which appeared to be a check out sheet. Absentmindedly he signed where Quatre pointed to and waved to the nurse at the front desk as they left.

Outside was a relief for the simple reason that there was a steady breeze. Trowa took a moment to savor the cool air, taking a deep breath of fresh air scented by the olive groves outside of town. He'd forgotten how sterile the hospital was, and for one wild moment he wanted to do something absolutely stupid and foolhardy. Till he remembered that he already was.

"What're you smiling about?" asked Quatre, arching an eyebrow. "Is it the weather? I've been waiting for days for the sky to be totally clear."

Trowa snorted, "That's why you insisted on having the window seat?"

"Yep!" Quatre grinned up at him, his face filled with an unleashed joy. Fighting the urge to ruffle his room mate's hair, Trowa walked on the down the sidewalk.

"Quatre, where are we going?"

Quat stopped his chair and motioned to the building in front of them. Trowa opened the door for him like a gentleman and they entered, awash with the smells of every kind of soap and hair product quite possibly ever made. The tiles in the aisle were so shiny that they made the light from the fluorescent bulbs even more washed out and bright.

Quatre knew what he was looking for and grabbed Trowa's arm. "Would you grab some sunscreen off that top shelf? If I don't get some on and I stay outside, I'll get sunburned."

Trowa nodded, taking the first brightly colored bottle he saw. The brand was apparently good enough for Quatre and they were paid for and out the door before Trowa could even bring himself to notice it.

They stood at a bus stop which was just on the corner and Quat wasted no time, squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen onto his hand. As he began to rub the goo onto his skin the scent drifted up to Trowa.

Cocoa butter was soothing. Frank, his step father, had a melanoma taken off of his arm years before he met Mitzi, but the fear of cancer was enough to make Frank militantly diligent about wearing sunscreen. The smell permeated all of his clothing and it always served as a pleasant reminder that Frank was there, that someone was there to help Trowa and be a parent.

Mitzi had been waiting for Frank to come on their sixth date when she had a breakdown. Dressed in her nicest dress, bought just for the occaision, she crouched on the kitchen floor with a brush in one hand and a bucket of soapy water in the other. Try as he might Trowa could raise her from her cleaning, and any attempt to distract her went unheeded. She was in a full blown manic state and nothing would stop that.

The knock on the door came just at the wrong time. Mitzi was three sheets to the wind and Frank would see her at her worst and the possibility of normalcy was growing slimmer by the hour. Half frantic and consumed by dread, Trowa answered the door to a politely concerned Fritz. "Hallo Trowa, Wie gehts?"

"Ah, nicht gut. Mama is sick tonight." He tried to close the door and save Frank from having to see her like this, but Frank wedged his foot between the door and the doorframe. His brows were furrowed, "Is she in a state?"

"Jawohl Frank, she is. She wouldn't want you to see her like this though." He plead.

Frank firmly pushed the door open and took off his lovely tweed coat, taking his cufflinks off and rolling his sleeves up. "Trowa." He looked the frantic boy in the eye and said calmly, "What kind of man would I be to leave? Not just for your Mama, but for you?"

Indignance reared it's ugly head and Trowa stiffened. "I have taken care of Mama for years. We've lasted this long."

"That's very true, and you've done an incredible job." Frank said kindly and put a firm, comforting hand on his shoulder. "But you deserve to have a childhood and you haven't had one of those. I love your Mama and I've become quite fond of you, and I can't leave either of you to be held prisoner to this disease. Do let me help Trowa, you deserve to be helped for once in your life."

Utterly stunned, Trowa let himself be pulled into a warm hug, nose pressed into his shoulder which smelled like sun and sweetness.

"Trowa?"

He looked down at Quatre, arching an eyebrow in response. Quatre held up a palm still coated in white goo. "I have extra. Want me to get your neck and face?"

"I would but I can't reach my neck. Not supposed to lift my hands above my head."

Quat shrugged, "Lean down then. I'll put it on you."

Trowa obliged and bowed his head down to his roommate's level. He was pulled forward to that his forehead rested on Quat's shoulder and a sense of calm filled him as deft hands rubbed the lotion into his skin. There was no friction, just slick comfort and Trowa was mightily disappointed when Quatre guided him back and put the sunscreen on his face.

"The bus!" Quatre brightened and Trowa stood slowly, sleepily noting the bus coming to their stop. The wheelchair ramp opened on the back, an odd coincidence.

"Did you know that there would be a wheelchair accessible bus?" He asked as he helped to push Quatre into the bus, noting his smug smile.

"Lets just say that bus schedules are our friend, Trowa." Quatre helped Trowa to fasten his wheels down onto the bus, all the while with a sated happy smile on his face.

After paying for their toll, Trowa came and sat back down next to Quatre, caught off guard when the blonde started up a conversation.

"I needed to get out of there, you know? I hate when people organize things for me or control my life, because that's what I'm supposed to be doing. I just needed to buck their control and do something for myself."

"And I was brought along as the strong man?"

"No. You were brought along at the friend, honestly." Quatre met him eye to eye with an utterly honest look. "The zoo's only good when someone else is there to enjoy it with you. And Duo would just blab the whole time, so I wanted to bring you along."

"Makes sense."

"Trowa?"

He looked over at Quatre, "Yes?"

"Why did you come along?"

"Because I wanted to have a friend."

Quatre's smile was big and bright and the rest of the bus ride, Trowa was awash with the beauty.

The Jerusalem Zoo's big selling point was the fact that it had every animal named in the bible in the zoo. Minus the unicorns, at least.

Trowa was enjoying the griffon vultures the most. The zoo had just begun a conservation program to bring the species back, and they were surprisingly pretty animals. They had incredible wingspans and were actually rather friendly, one having affectionately nipped at Trowa's fingers through the cage.

Quatre on the other hand had enjoyed the petting zoo. A pygmy goat had taken a liking to him and went so far as to jump in his lap and stay there till the keeper had to pry it off.

All in all, the day had been excellent. They'd worn themselves out thoroughly, pigged out on junk food and saw several pretty and interesting animals. When Trowa's legs finally started to give out, they decided to head back to the hospital, boarding their handicap accessible bus and relaxing gratefully.

"Trowa?"

He cracked an eye open, surprised at just how close he'd been to sleep. "Yes?"

"What're you going to do when your nerves are back to normal?" Quatre had leaned over his chair, nearly perching on the armrest. He looked all the world like a little child peering over the edge of their bed.

"They never will be back to normal."

"They'll be liveable though."

"True. I don't know what I'll do. Haven't thought about it."

Quatre chewed his lower lip a second. "Why haven't any of your friends visited? Your rabbi came to see you, but that was it."

"I don't really have friends here yet, I guess."

"You've been living here longer than I have, and I've made tons of friends."

"I'm not that social of a person, Quatre. I'm an oddball, people don't like me."

His face wrinkled like he smelled something bad, and his speech was ferverent. "People don't talk to you because you're smart. They don't talk to you because you won't let them. When someone talks to you and you've been around them for any amount of time, you snap at them. The only person who hasn't told you to fuck off is Chang, and that's only because Duo's desensitized him to that kind of thing. Why don't you let people in?"

Trowa leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, fingertips reaching to brush a coolpipe on the bus seat. "I don't know how too."

"I think you do." Quatre's hand, smelling of sweat but still a little like cocoa butter, reached out to lightly rest on his wrist. "You're just too preoccupied to know it yet."

Trowa turned his head slowly, pulse fluttering in his veins. Quatre's hand trembled as it moved from his wrist to his cheek and his breath was so hot against his lips and…. It was just right.

They kissed.

Trowa's hands curled and tangled into Quatre's hair and Quatre made a keening noise deep in his throat and it wasn't perfect, they hit their teeth against each other everytime the bus hit a pot hole, but it fit. It all fit.

They pulled away from each other slowly when they reached the hospital, Trowa pointedly ignoring the bus driver. He strolled and Quatre rolled into the lobby, both of their faces awash with a persistent blush. They said nothing in the elevator and none of the staff said anything to them, at least until the elevator door opened, showing a very flustered Chang.

"Where the HELL have you been?"

They smirked in glorious victory.