Waking Up In Vegas

Chapter Thirteen

Long minutes ticked by, and Quatre just stood frozen to the spot, unable to move.... unable to speak. Until finally... at last...

"Trowa... I'm sorry. I... It's not often that I grant anyone any level of control over my life. I know... I know you only meant to help. And I thank you for that."

"But..." Trowa prompted.

"But I'm not sure I know you enough to grant you that much of myself."

Trowa stood up, turned, paced the porch. Quatre made his way forwards, up the steps.

"I can't change myself, Quatre. I can't change my nature. If you stay... I can't promise I won't do something like this again. It's who I *am*."

Quatre nodded. "My independence was one of the nails in the coffin of the relationship with my father. My stubbornness, my need to create my own life, my own rules. I can't say I won't ever snap at you, I can't promise not to keep you out. That's just *my* nature."

Trowa laughed. "One who wants to help, and one who can't accept any help. Should we be building this up.... or tearing it down? Either way," he chuckled wetly, "I keep thinking maybe it's too late."

Quatre shook his head violently. "No. I refuse to let it end like this. I'm a stubborn bastard... and I think you are too. If we *try*, then we can make this work. I want to *try* with you, Trowa."

Trowa turned and looked at the blond.

"Do you really mean that?"

Quatre nodded, blushing just a bit. "I do, Trowa. I meant what I said back there, but maybe not in the way it sounded. I don't know you enough... *yet*. I can't accept you as a fixture in my life... at least not *yet*. But I want us to get to a place where I can."

Trowa searched those beautiful blue eyes, trying to find the deception... but he found only sincerity. He found only surrender.

He reached out and brushed back a strand of baby-soft hair, tucking it behind an ear.

"That trust will go both ways," he said. "I'll try to ask you before I do anything that will effect your business like that. In return... I want your promise that no matter what... you won't run away because of some silly flaw like that. I... I don't want to loose you."

Quatre blinked. "What? But...." They'd only known each other a handful of days. Trowawas speaking as if they were life-long partners, childhood friends. Speaking as if this was permanent.

Trowa looked in those eyes... and the confusion he found there, he mistook for anger. Had he revealed too much too soon? Had he succeeded in scaring Quatre away? He thought that... that maybe they were trying to build something *more* than just a passing acquaintance, a simple friendship. He thought they were trying to build something closer....

Emerald eyes grew cold, and Trowa turned away, moving off the porch, down the steps.

"No! Trowa! Don't go!" Quatre launched himself at Trowa, wrapping his slender arms around Trowa's shoulders in a death grip, the height difference between them void, perhaps even a bit reversed, because of the steps. He buried his face into Trowa's neck, the tears falling freely now. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Trowa's hands came up to rest over Quatre's, the touch feather-soft. A single tear rolled down his cheek, falling to splash silently on Quatre's pale fingers.

"I've never loved anyone before," Quatre said quietly. "Not really... just my sister. I'm scared. I don't *want* to fall in love with you... but I think I am. This is all much too sudden for me... I feel like I haven't had time to catch my breath. I *do* want to try to make this work with us. Although I'm still not quite sure what *this* is. I'm frightened... but I don't want to loose you, either."

"Quatre..." Trowa's voice was soft, quiet. "I'm not sure I want to love again. After Midii... I'm not even sure I *can*."

Quatre tilted his head, pressing his lips against the pulse that rested under his cheek.

"Neither of us planned any of this. Can't we just go with the flow? We both carry many scars... maybe too many. But it's much too late for us to go our own separate ways now. I'm too wrapped up in you to break free now."

Trowa smiled softly, taking Quatre's hands in his, and turning in his arms until they were face to face. "Same here," he said. "Only... I'm not sure I want to break free. The more I see of you and the more I learn... the deeper I tangle myself."

Quatre smiled, and leaned forward.

As the sun shone brightly around them, they shared their first kiss. Well, the first kiss they could *remember* that is. Softly, hesitantly, lips met. At first, that's all there was... lips pressed against lips, neither moving, neither giving or taking. Simply there....

Then, it changed. Slowly as the caterpillar becoming a butterfly, the kiss metamorphosed. It changed.

A soft sigh, lips parting. Tongues meeting, greeting... dancing.

All thought willingly died as they stood there. Trowa's hands still held Quatre's, holding them between their bodies, clasping together as if to cement the promise to try.

Moments passed, but time held no meaning to the two, simply wrapped up in that simple, sweet kiss. As they kissed... the whole world fell away until nothing but the two of them remained. And... that was just fine with them.

"I'm heading into Huntsville tomorrow," the girl was saying, brushing her blondish-brown hair out of her face. Hazel eyes kept themselves glued to the ground in front of her as she and her friend shared a quiet little walk down the road. "I was wondering if you'd like to come?"

"Aren't you meeting Sven?" the other girl asked. Her golden blond hair reached her knees, well past the hem of her black mini-skirt. With her heavy make-up and heels, she looked very out-of-place against her companion's daisy-duke cut-offs, flip-flops, and pastel pink halter top.

"Well, yes. But Sven feels kind of guilty about leaving his room-mate alone. Garrett's 24. Really sweet. You'd like him, Dorothy." She spun around, walking backwards down the road. She didn't trip... she knew the pavement well enough by now.

The girl Dorothy laughed brightly. "Darling, you know me. 'Sweet' is not my type."

"Say what you want," Emily replied flippantly, her accented voice lilting in the soft wind as she smiled brightly. "You go for sweet, and you know it. Maybe I should get Delana to come; she's twenty-five, so they'd have more in common than you two. Yeah... I'll just walk down to the Maxwell place and see if Delana would like to."

Dorothy stopped dead in her tracks. "Now *that* is sweet," she sneered. "Sickeningly sweet."

Emily turned to see what had Dorothy scowling. And she herself couldn't help but stare in awe. Trowa was standing on the porch, lips locked with those of the petite little blond man.

'This is not good,' both young women thought at the same time, frowns crossing their faces.

'This is *not* good....'

~*~*~*~

AN: Okay, just before I loose anyone in this fic, I'll give a heads-up. It is relatively early summer. I'm thinking early June, here... school just got out for summer. As for the ages of our main characters: Duo and Delana are, as stated, 25. Trowa just turned 28, Quatre and Wufei are both 26. Emily is 19, Dorothy 20. And Hilde is about sixteen.

AND!!!!!! This chapter is my Valentine's gift for Animechan123!!!! I hope you have a great vacation!