Disclaimer - I do not own Gundam Wing. This is for fun, and not for any monetary profit.

Note- The flashback in this chapter takes place around the end of chapter 4.

Many thanks, to KS for proof-reading and for providing the Duo cameo; to Wolfje for laughing in the appropriate places and for the Dutch nightclub information, and to everyone who has been reading and reviewing.

What are Friends for?

'Take care, Trowa. Please.' It was a stupid thing to say, and the other man accorded it a faintly bitter laugh. 'Call us if we can help at all,´Wufei pressed. `You know we're here if you need anything.'

'I know.' There was silence on the other end of the line for a minute, and then he said quietly. 'I'm sorry, 'Fei. You guys should never have got caught up in all this.'

'Now that is a phenomenally stupid thing to say. Of course we're involved. And we want to help.'

Wufei hung up and settled back in his seat, trying to find a calm place among all his rolling emotions. It didn't work. It had been a hellish day so far, every minute of it.

There had been a few shimmering moments that morning when Zechs had slid the ring on to his finger, and kissed him, but the gleam of that memory was all but submerged by everything else that had happened since. Zechs had been in pain, however much he'd tried to hide it, and then Relena had pulled that ridiculous stunt with the media, and they'd all had to move to the Embassy, and then Duo had gone missing.

Most of the afternoon had been spent at the Preventers Building with Lucrezia Noin, going over all the available information relating both to Quatre's disappearance, and the attack on himself and Zechs. She'd tried to convince him that nothing about that had been his fault; neither Zechs getting shot, nor the fact that he'd killed four men, but it hadn't helped. He still blamed himself. If he'd been more vigilant, if he hadn't distracted Zechs, it would never have happened, or at least they would have been more prepared to meet an attack.

Then, he'd spent almost an hour trying to convince Une that Trowa was innocent of all this, and that assigning Preventer agents to track him down was a waste of valuable resources. He'd had to make that excruciatingly embarrassing 'phone call to Zechs' surgeon, and he still had to deal with Zechs himself.

All he really wanted to do was soak in a warm bath, with plenty of scented candles and a book of poetry. That wasn't going to happen any time soon.

He caught himself absently twisting the ring on his left finger - again - and jerked his hands apart. He certainly didn't need to develop that sort of habit; Duo had already teased him about it. He didn't want to lose the precious thing by tugging it loose; not a historic, centuries-old artefact that had belonged to two royal dynasties.

And Zechs had chosen it for him…. Damn, he was doing it again! Stop touching the thing, Chang! Sally had done that with her engagement ring at first, he remembered, turning it on her finger so the diamond caught the light. Wonderful; now he was behaving just like a woman.

Damnation. Wufei held his hand up to the car window, watching the sun reflect off the gleaming jade. He'd never thought he'd wear an engagement ring, or that he'd be engaged at all. He didn't feel any different, wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to. He'd known for years that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Zechs; a ring didn't change anything, except that they seemed to be arguing more frequently.

They'd had - no, not an argument; a discussion - just before he'd left the embassy. Well, maybe it had been an argument. Zechs hadn't wanted him to go the Preventers Building, hadn't seen that he'd achieve anything by talking to Une, and he'd been quite right. He'd had to do something though, rather than just sitting by while Trowa was made into a scapegoat for everything.

Oh dear, it had definitely been a full-blown argument. Wufei had taken exception to the other man trying to persuade him not to go; just because they were engaged didn't automatically mean he had to do what Zechs wanted. Zechs had only been trying to help, and he was still in pain, and probably worrying about how serious the row had been.

I don't deserve him.

Hard on the heels of that thought came another, something that Trowa had said.

'If you really want to marry him, you need to be damn sure that he's the centre of your universe.'

He was; he had been for years now and he'd been scared to admit it, even to himself because admitting something like that was an acknowledgement of how much power Zechs had over him, how much potential to hurt him. He'd let Zechs become a part of his life, but on his own terms, slotting him in neatly around his studies and his friends and his other interests. So that if Zechs ever left him, he wouldn't be left with an empty life, like Duo had been.

Trowa was perfectly right. His partner, his husband-to-be, deserved to be the centre of his universe, and if he lacked the courage to face that, then he had no business marrying him in the first place. He was going to show his prince just how much he valued him and how sorry he was. Heero and Duo could take care of themselves for a while, and he would trust Trowa to find Quat and bring him home.

As far as Zechs was concerned, Trowa should have been thanking his lucky stars that he'd got rid of Quatre, not combing the universe and dodging Preventer agents to find him. Of course, Zechs had a huge problem with the way Quatre had been treating his friends lately, and it had infuriated him how much that had affected Duo. As far as he was concerned, the blond was a dead loss, and his friends should just move on and forget him.

He probably thought Trowa should do that too, and part of Wufei agreed, except that…it was hard to imagine those two apart. It was obvious that Trowa still loved Quatre, however much he'd tried to pretend he was over him, and he would do anything in his power to help his friend. He'd promised Trowa that much weeks ago, when Trowa had first left L4 and come to them.

'So what's wrong with Barton?' Zechs looked up from measuring out pasta. 'Don't tell me he's finally summoned up the gumption to dump that little blond twit?'

'I don't know,' Wufei sighed. 'He said he wanted to rest in his room, and he hardly spoke all the way from the airport.'

'What; even less than usual? I don't see how that could be possible, unless he's invented the power of anti-speech.'

Wufei shook his head. 'Don't joke, Mil. He looks terrible, like he hasn't slept in days.'

'He probably just needs a good meal and a rest,' Zechs comforted him. 'You know those long commercial flights are always a nightmare.'

'I suppose. And that doesn't make sense either. Why would he take a passenger flight; he always either pilots himself, or uses one of the WEI jets. None of this makes sense. I can see why he's furious with Quatre, but he should be on L4, talking to him. Anyway, I thought I'd bring him some tea before dinner. It might relax him a little.'

'Mmmm.' Zechs' arms stole around his waist, pulling him close. 'He's not the only one who needs to loosen up a little, is he? You're awfully tense, dearest.'

Wufei allowed himself to sink into his lover's comforting embrace. He was perfectly right, as always. Wufei had been on edge ever since that ridiculous engagement announcement, and he hadn't slept well; not after the double shock of Quatre Winner announcing his prospective wedding plans, followed immediately by Trowa's 'phone call.

'What time were we thinking of eating? In about an hour? If I have time, I'll see if Trowa wants to talk a little.'

'There's no rush. Duo's lost to the world, and it won't hurt the sauce to simmer away. Why don't you try it?' He dipped a wooden spoon in the bubbling liquid and held it out. 'Careful, love; it's hot, and I don't want you to burn your beautiful mouth.' He winked. 'I have plans for it later, you see.'

'Surprise, surprise.' Wufei acknowledged dryly.

Zechs laughed. 'Just blow on it.'

'I was taught as a child that blowing on one's food is the worst possible form of table manners.'

'Well, we're not at the table, are we? And I shouldn't worry about bad manners. I believe we've done worse things on the table that that.'

'Urk. Don't want to know,' Duo muttered in the background, not bothering to look up from his computer.

'I think a little…blowing is permissible.'

'Not in here,' Duo yelled. 'Can't a guy have five minutes' to concentrate without you two slobbering all over each other?'

Lowering his head, Wufei blew gently on to the spoon, making sure that a gentle puff of air drifted across his lover's fingertips. He lapped delicately at the sauce, swirling his tongue around all the time conscious of those sapphire eyes intent on him.

'That is quite delicious.'

'Is it? Let me have a taste.' Zechs bent and kissed him, licking at a tiny drip of sauce from the corner of his mouth, before teasing his lips apart.

'Mmm, yes, delicious.' The blue eyes sparkled. 'Aren't you lucky, 'Fei? You don't just have an incredibly gorgeous boyfriend, but one who also happens to be a prodigiously gifted chef?'

'And who possesses staggering amounts of humility,' Wufei mocked gently.

'Just as you say,' Zechs declaimed, spreading his hands modestly. 'And, as you said, that sauce is quite delectable; smooth, creamy, hot, with just a hint of spice. I think I need another sample.'

'I think you're going to spoil your appetite.' Wufei ducked adroitly out of his boyfriend's arms, and headed for the kettle.

'I've think I've already lost mine.' A small voice came from the direction of the table, accompanied by some realistic retching sounds.

'My…appetite has only just been whetted, dear one,' Zechs purred, ignoring the rude interruption, and catching Wufei's hand to draw him back. 'All the best chefs need to sample their creations constantly.'

'I'm going to get sick in a minute if you two don't turn down the sap. Some of us are trying to work here.' Duo ducked the apple Zechs tossed at him without bothering to look up. 'It's like being trapped in one of those soppy British romances that Quat likes. Why don't you two get a room and leave me in peace?' he wondered, eyes still intent on his computer screen.

'We've already got an entire house,' Zechs retorted. 'Hasn't it ever occurred to you that the kitchen table isn't an ideal place to design your shuttles?'

'Nah.' Duo glanced up at them, grinning. 'All I need is a horizontal surface big enough for my laptop. Hasn't it ever occurred to you that the kitchen counter isn't an ideal place to make out?'

'Hardly,' the prince drawled. 'All I need is a horizontal surface big enough for my…'

'Mil!' Wufei gasped.

'Kitchen accessories,' Zechs parried smoothly. 'What do you say, love? Shall we go upstairs until dinner is ready?'

It was tempting. The prince was dressed in his favourite, faded jeans, which perfectly emphasised his long legs, and all that palely gleaming hair was tied back, something he usually only did while cooking.

'Later,' Wufei said reluctantly, summoning up a major effort of will. All those years of practicing meditation came in useful at the oddest times. 'I need to see Trowa. Can you get me two cups, please? And some honey?'

'I'll give you honey,' Zechs growled. 'Later…I'll spread it over every inch of your exquisite body, and lick it off…slowly.'

'Oh!' Wufei's gasped at the sudden storm-surge of desire, the look in his lover's eyes as he handed him the small jar. Deep breaths, Chang. Trowa needed him. 'Later,' he echoed, reaching up to sweep his tongue around the curve of Zechs' ear. 'I promise.' Pulling free, he slid two steaming mugs, honey and lemon slices on to the tray and flicked a mischievous grin at the prince as he walked out. 'Assuming Trowa doesn't use all the honey…'

Outside Duo's room, Wufei shifted the tray to one hand and raised the other to knock. The need to do so was odd in itself; Duo always left his door open.

Their guest had stretched out on the bed when they'd shown him the room, and apparently hadn't moved since, save to heel off his boots.

'That's the painting Zechs did for Duo's birthday last year? He told me about it.' Trowa didn't look up, both eyes focused on the huge, glowing canvas on the wall opposite; Deathscythe standing in a field of golden sunflowers.

Wufei nodded, setting the tray carefully on the dresser and sitting in Duo's overstuffed tub of an armchair. Trowa hadn't even bothered to light the aromatherapy candles he'd left out.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put him out of his room; I can sleep on the couch.'

'There's no need. We have five bedrooms and Duo hardly ever sleeps in here anyway. We thought you might like the privacy; it's got in its own door to the garden so you can come and go whenever you like.'

The man on the bed nodded fractionally. 'I appreciate you taking me in.'

'It's good to have you here, finally.' Wufei hesitated. He wasn't very good at this sort of thing; ironically, Quatre was the one who had always been able to coax Trowa - anyone - to talk. 'We've been wanting you, both of you, to visit ever since we moved in.'

'I've left him.'

Wufei had known they'd been having problems, so it shouldn't have been such a shock. It was, though. They were the couple who'd found each other during a war as teenagers, who'd managed to stay together after. One of the few constants in a fluid world.

'Was it the engagement? We saw the announcement last night on TV.'

Trowa shook his head. 'That was nothing. A publicity stunt; if Quatre wants to be elected to the L4 Council, he needs to play it straight. He told me he was going to tell Duo weeks ago. I'm guessing that didn't happen?'

'It was a total shock to all of us,' Wufei stated frankly. 'I'm sorry, Trowa. I don't know how you ever put up with that. I understood you had to be discreet, but not to this level of deception, just because he's decided he wants to play at politics.'

'Yeah.'

'Do you…want to talk about it?' The question came out awkwardly. He considered Trowa a good friend, but they rarely discussed anything intimate. That had always been Quat's province.

Trowa sat up, pulling his long legs up to his chest, and resting his chin on his knees. 'What's to talk about? I've left.'

'I know things have been… difficult, lately,' he said finally. 'It's probably good for you both to take a break, to give each other a little space.'

'I told you, 'Fei. I've left him. I'm not going back.' The last words came out defiantly, almost a challenge.

Wufei nodded uncertainly. 'That's your decision. I won't try to change your mind.' It was probably for the best, if things were that bad, for them to spend a little time apart. Of course, it wasn't final. Just one of those arguments that all couples had. It wouldn't hurt Quatre to have to come and apologise.

'Duo will.'

Wufei took a sip of his tea. It was probably true; as far as Duo was concerned, Trowa and Quatre were the perfect couple. 'You never said you left him before.'

Trowa shrugged. 'Didn't I? It was August last year. After I hit him the first time.'

'You what?' Wufei breathed, horrified. Trowa was off the bed, slamming the bathroom door behind him before his mouth had even closed. Even with the taps running, he could hear someone retching.

Oh Gods. Wufei sank back down again. This was - unimaginably awful. If it was true, Duo was going to kill him. If Wufei didn't beat him to it.

Granted, they hadn't been getting along lately - face it, no one had been getting along with Quatre lately - but he was still a friend. The first person he'd ever really confided in. Quat was the first person he'd come out to; the only person who knew certain things.

Quatre Winner was the person who'd got him past those first months after Duo's accident; that appalling time when he'd been wallowing in guilt and shame and self-hatred.

He'd tried to make friends before. After the war, both Quatre and Duo had stubbornly tried to stay in touch with him, apparently under the impression that he needed some sort of contact with his former comrades.

It had taken time and persistence to get rid of them. In the process he'd convinced himself that they were both weak, effeminate, unnecessary. Maxwell was falling apart at the seams, and Winner, after a disgraceful interlude when he'd run away to join a travelling circus, was making a show of himself with Barton on L4, doubtless scandalising his decent, conservative family.

No son of the Long clan would ever have behaved so reprehensibly.

It was still a wonder to reflect on, sometimes, that Quatre had bothered with him at all, with the person he'd been then, and Duo's friendship would always be a miracle.

Duo was going to go insane when he found out what Trowa had done. Admittedly, that had been Wufei's first reaction too. A couple of minutes reflection had calmed him down a little; enough to want to hear Trowa's side at least. It all had to be some sort of misunderstanding, something that could be fixed. Duo was unlikely to take that sort of rational approach, though. Those two were so bound up in each other's lives; too much so, he'd thought on occasion.

After Yuy's - incident - with Relena Peacecraft, Quatre, almost more than Duo, had been the one to behave like the betrayed lover. Years later, Duo could be civil to Heero in company; Quatre still refused to acknowledge his existence. And Duo was going to take any insult to his closest friend very personally.

Duo's relationship with Quatre was something he'd always admired. After Duo had finally regained consciousness, there had a been a bleak few weeks when he'd feared Quatre wouldn't need him any more, not when he had his best friend back.

He'd envied those two so much during the war, unable to imagine that sort of closeness. Of course, he'd refused to admit it, even to himself. Instead, he'd scoffed at their friendship. A true warrior needed no such distractions; didn't need someone to laugh with, or confide silly secrets to, or stay up all night talking or watching those ridiculous TV shows they both liked. Such things were for little girls, not soldiers engaged in combat.

Instead, Quatre had pulled him into that inner circle. He still hadn't wanted to take Duo into his home, though. He hadn't wanted to admit another person into his private sanctuary, where he could lock the door and shut out the world. That solitude was one of the things that had made his life bearable since the war, and he would lose that with Maxwell in situ.

It had turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. He still made offerings to his ancestors on feast days for Duo. And for Zechs, naturally; for all of them.

He was so unbelievably fortunate; so many things to give thanks for. All the things he'd never thought he would possess.

A home and friends who were more like family and a job he loved and Zechs. Another thing to be thankful for; that he hadn't met his lover for some years after the war. He'd said that to Zechs once, and he'd just laughed, saying he'd always liked a challenge. Wufei doubted it, though. Zechs surely wouldn't have liked the arrogant, rude, closed-off young man that Wufei knew he had been then.

'I'm sorry, 'Fei.' Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed Trowa walking back in. 'I should never have come here. You and Duo shouldn't have to choose between us. I'll leave.'

'You're not going anywhere until you tell me what exactly has been going on,' Wufei snapped. 'Sit down.' He'd been prepared to show Trowa the door, but his friend looked - drained, was the only word Wufei could think of. Like a man who'd lost his soul. He'd known Trowa for almost eight years. They'd fought a war together, as allies, and forged a close friendship afterwards. In all that time, he'd seen Trowa at a loss exactly twice; after the war, when Quatre had been injured by Dorothy Catalonia, and several months later, when Quat had tried to kill himself. '

Trowa perched obediently on the side of the bed, face hidden under that fall of lank hair. Gods, he looked terrible. In the years since then, the former mercenary had reinvented himself as an urbanely sophisticated young man with a fondness for designer clothing, and refined his talent for hiding his emotions, except with in the company of close friends.

'I'm sorry.' Wufei spoke a little more gently. 'I probably over-reacted just then. I know you would never deliberately harm him.'

'It was….' Trowa hesitated, one hand combing his overlong bangs over the side of his face. 'It just happened. 'Fei, I never meant to hurt him, I swear. He'd just vanished one morning. He was gone for nearly four hours; he hadn't told anyone that he'd meant to leave the house. I was going out of my mind that something had happened to him. Someone had tried to assassinate him, the previous month. You know about that?'

Wufei nodded. Of course, they'd heard about it. Most of the world had got the carefully censored version of a 'accident', that a young man, a family friend and a guest at one of Quare's parties, had shot himself on the terrace. It had been passed off as a tragedy, a sad end for a boy who had been having mental problems. Wufei and Duo had heard the truth. The seventeen year old, whom Quatre had known since they were both children, who was dating one of Quat's nieces, had tried to shoot him.

'Where had Quatre gone? I assume he was safe.'

'Oh, he'd woken up early and decided to go for a ride by himself. When he got back, he was furious that everyone had been worried about him. You know Quatre; he was quite capable of taking care of himself, thank you, and he bitterly resented me thinking that he needed someone to hold his hand.'

'I can imagine,' Wufei responded dryly. He could, all too easily; that was the problem. Quatre spent 99% of his time behaving like the perfect Winner son/brother/CEO, but as Duo put it, he needed to break out occasionally.

In the first couple of years after the war, he hadn't been all that bothered about public appearances, particularly away from L4. Granted, on his home colony, he'd kept up a reasonably careful façade that Trowa was no more than his bodyguard, but he'd never denied outright that there was more to their relationship. The conservative citizens of L4 had chosen to turn a blind eye to young Mr. Winner's activities off-Colony, and in return, Quatre had behaved himself in public. Most of the time.

A few reports of 'public indecency' had filtered back to L4, inevitably; Quatre dancing with Trowa at a notorious gay nightclub in Grottingen, or openly sharing a hotel room with his supposed bodyguard, but he'd mainly been discreet. In private, Wufei was all too aware that his innocent-looking blond friend had quite a number of - kinks, Duo called them - and that Trowa was more than willing to indulge them.

Not that he and Zechs hadn't … experimented with such things themselves, but they had been just that - little experiments when they were both feeling particularly adventurous. But Quatre, according to Duo, needed it.

They'd never discussed it, but Duo had dropped comments here and there over the years, and Quatre had actually dragged him into a - well, an adult shop, on one occasion. It had taken every ounce of Wufei's self possession not to run out screaming, but Quatre had been quite matter of fact about the whole thing, and Wufei had been emboldened enough to make a purchase or two on his own account.

Trowa sighed, recalling him suddenly back to the present.

'I still can't believe I hurt him, you know.'

'What happened, exactly?' Wufei pressed, finding it hard to believe himself. Not that he hadn't been tempted himself, the odd time. He adored Quatre, but even Duo admitted that his best friend was high maintenance. 'I know you'd never deliberately hurt him. I'm sure it was a shock for both of you, but I can't imagine it was all that serious. He'll know you never meant to hurt him. Heaven knows, I've been tempted to thump Zechs on occasion, or Duo. Or Quatre for that matter.'

'Not like this. We were having a screaming row. At least,' Trowa grimaced, 'I was screaming at him, and Quat was being oh, so reasonable and carrying on like I was being the hysterical one. I just lost it. You know how he gets sometimes, when he keeps pushing and pushing. I just lost it with him.' He recited the words with all the emotion of a poorly designed robot. 'I left the next day.'

'I can't believe you never told us anything about this. Where did you go?' Wufei breathed, appalled. 'To Cathy?'

Trowa hesitated for a moment. 'I thought about that, but you know she's never liked him. I went to stay with Heero in Italy.'

'Heero!' Wufei muttered disgustedly.

Trowa rolled his eyes…or at least the one eye that was visible under his hair. 'God, 'Fei, let it go, will you? Heero made one stupid mistake, years ago; that doesn't make him the devil incarnate.'

'He ruined Duo's life!'

'Duo has a brilliant career that he loves, he has some great friends, and his last boyfriend happened to be one of the most powerful men on this continent, and utterly adored him. I'd hardly say his life is ruined.'

Wufei's brows snapped together as he frowned. They'd had similar conversations over the past six years. Trowa, quite incomprehensibly, had elected to remain friends with Yuy, despite what he'd done, and despite his lover's opinion of their former comrade. Foolishness, but then Trowa hadn't had to live with Duo for those first, awful months after his accident..

If he could have done it, Wufei would have eliminated all traces of Heero Yuy from their lives. It wasn't possible, though. As a lawyer with a penchant for taking high profile cases, Heero was frequently on the news. They were all invited to attend the occasional ceremony. Sally, ridiculous woman, had even asked Heero to attend her wedding, although, to do the man justice, he'd arrived late and stayed for only a short time.

'Shit, even Duo talks to him sometimes. Aren't you ever going to get over it? He was just a kid; we all were. Kids do stupid things.'

Wufei shot him a sharp glance. He'd done his own share of stupid things after the war, not all of them unconnected with Heero Yuy, but Trowa couldn't know that. Only Quatre knew that.

'If Duo wants to communicate with him, that's his choice,' Wufei said shortly. He hated the fact; hated that Duo would be silent and withdrawn after the infrequent meetings.

'Anyway,' Trowa apparently gave up trying, 'I only stayed for a day or so. Quatre called and persuaded me to go home. Things were OK for a few weeks; he tried to spend less time at work and we met Duo in London last September, remember?'

Wufei nodded. He'd been invited along, obviously, but he'd had a paper due, and they'd been planning to meet at Christmas anyway.

'I assume something went wrong?'

'Just every bloody thing,' Trowa said heavily. 'It was a nightmare. I was utterly paranoid about his safety; shit, I pulled a gun on one of our housemaids one morning. I'd have killed her if Quat hadn't stopped me. We got stuck in this vicious cycle; the more I fussed about him, the more he tried to get away. Every so often, it would all blow up, and we'd get past it, and then it would start all over again.'

'I can't believe you never told anyone! Didn't' either of you ever think of getting help? Counselling, therapy, something like that?'

Trowa offered a shrug. 'Neither of us really believes in that stuff. And you know Quat hates doctors. Anyway, his sisters would have gone insane if they'd suspected what was really going on.' He sighed. 'Bloody harpies, the lot of them. I should have dragged him away from that place years ago. Let them sort out their own damn problems. Yeah, anyway, we did some research on the net, found a drug that claimed to reduce paranoia. I took that for a bit and…'

'You did what?' Wufei exploded. 'Trowa, that's insane! I can't believe you two would be so stupid.'

'Well, it worked for a bit. Then I started having other problems; headaches, and lethargy. I was falling asleep during the day, finding it hard to concentrate. I didn't want to worry Quat so I had some tests and found out he'd been giving me some fucking illegal drug that Romefeller had developed.'

'No. Gods, Trowa, he'd never do something like that.'

'Yeah. I thought that. I thought there'd been some fuck-up somewhere, right 'til he admitted it.'

Wufei felt ice slither down his spine. 'When?'

'Two days ago. He said he'd had to do something; that I'd been scaring him over the past few months, and the best solution he could come up with was to keep me drugged out of my wits. After that, I decided I had to leave, for both our sakes. It took me a day or so to get some fake I.D.s sorted, and wait for the best time to run. I was under surveillance, you see; he was keeping pretty close tabs on me, but he's never been in my league when it comes to escaping.'

He sighed, tugging the long forelock over his eyes. 'Bit old for running away from home, aren't I? Never thought I'd need those skills to get away from Quatre. You know, I shouldn't stay here for too long. It won't take him long to figure out where I am and I don't want to involve you guys.' He flicked his hair back, and Wufei flinched at the raw look in his eyes. 'I had to get out, 'Fei. It'll take him a day or two to trace me. He stayed in the city on Sunday night; he won't know exactly when I left.'

'There are security cameras…he can check the footage.'

'I designed that security system myself. I know how to manipulate it. I'll be gone by tomorrow; he doesn't need to know I was ever here. You and Duo don't need to get stuck in the middle.'

'Absolutely not.' Wufei said firmly. 'You're our friend, and in trouble, and you're staying here for as long as you need to. If Quatre doesn't approve, that's his problem.'

'Duo won't be too happy.'

'I'll talk to Duo.' Wufei stood suddenly, stretching a cramp in his left leg. 'I'm sorry. This is all so hard to take in. I know things haven't been going too well, but ..I'd never imagined anything like this. Not Quatre.'

'I'd never imagined it either,' Trowa said softly. 'I love him, 'Fei. I just can't…not any more. It's been so terrible, the last few months. I thought I was going out of my mind sometimes. There were days when it was fine, and then something would happen, and … I just couldn't cope any more.'

'I'm very glad you came to us,' Wufei told him. 'I mean that. And I don't know what' s been wrong with Quatre. The last time we spent any time together was that weekend in New York, over a year ago.'

Trowa's expression lightened for the first time. 'I remember. That photograph.'

That photograph.

It had become something of a standing joke between the four of them, although at the time it hadn't been funny. It had almost broken up him and Zechs. Ironically, it had happened after a day Wufei remembered as one of the happiest of his entire life.

He and Zechs had spent three days in Florence, and on their last evening they'd been watching the sunset on a bridge over the Arno. Absorbed in each other, and the shifting shades of light, neither of them had paid any attention to the click of a camera. There were plenty of other tourists there, in any case, and most of them were taking pictures of the sky.

Everything had gone wrong the next morning. They'd had dinner served in their room, and then Zechs had shown him some inventive uses for a four-poster bed, and the Florentine silk scarves and ties they'd bought earlier. The next morning, Zechs had turned on the TV while Wufei was in the bathroom, and he'd come back in to see the pair of them on the screen.

That moment of precious, private intimacy had been sent all over the universe, to be gawked at by any fool who had access to satellite TV, the internet, or a newspaper. And Zechs, instead of recognising this, had apparently been delighted with it all.

It hadn't been their first row by any means; it hadn't even been the first time that Wufei had stormed out. He'd seen his own expression in the photograph, gazing at Zechs as if the other man had just invented the meaning of life, and it had terrified him.

They'd been together for eighteen months at that stage; they lived together; he'd told Zechs - several times by then - that he loved him, and he'd meant it. They were a couple, officially. And he'd looked at a TV screen in a foreign hotel room and realised just how much Zechs meant to him.

He'd run, of course, heedless of Zechs' attempts to explain or apologise. He'd taken the first flight to New York, where he'd burst in on Quatre Winner, wallowing in spreadsheets and statistics for a board meeting that evening.

Quat had abandoned paperwork, and his two personal assistants, leaving orders for the meeting to be rescheduled, and swept Wufei off to the balcony overlooking Central Park, where he'd listened and poured tea, and agreed with everything Wufei said. Of course it wasn't fair that the media dared to intrude in people's lives. It was intolerable, frankly, and quite pathetic that most of the world's population had nothing better to do with their time than poke about in other people's personal affairs.

Then he'd told Wufei that Zechs would always be a notorious figure, because of his birth and his looks and of what he'd done. That wasn't going to change, and Wufei was something of a celebrity himself, even if he refused to acknowledge it. The media - the world - was always going to be interested in what they did and Wufei could either accept that as a fact of life, albeit an unpalatable one, and get on with it, or spend the rest of his life hiding from the glare of publicity.

'I don't know,' Trowa said sadly. 'It's not like we haven't had problems before, but we've always been able to work through them. Shit, I've even managed not to assault any of those bitches of sisters of his, even though it's been a damn close call at times. We were always able to talk to one another, you know. To talk about anything.'

Wufei nodded. He'd always admired them both tremendously; in a way, they'd been role models for himself when he'd first come out. Two people who were so obviously right for each other, and who showed in a myriad of gestures, large and small, every day. He'd envied them that.

'Maybe you still can sort this out,' he suggested, wondering if that was what Trowa wanted to hear; if it were possible, or even desirable at this stage. 'Trowa, this all sounds so unlike him. I know Quatre can get caught up in whatever his latest enthusiasm is, but this sort of behaviour is totally unacceptable. I don't think I could ever bring myself to forgive someone for how he's acted.'

"It's over,' Trowa said flatly. 'I don't want to see him again. I don't want to talk to him. We've said whatever needs to be said at this stage.' He shot Wufei a doubtful look. 'I half-thought you'd try to persuade me to go back or at least talk to him. You haven't even got his side of the story.'

'I don't need to. No matter what problems you two were having, and I know things have been difficult lately, I can see no possible excuse for how he's acted toward you. It beggars belief, the way he's treated you. I think you made the right decision in leaving, and I, for one, will support you in any way possible.'

Trowa gave him a grateful nod and his expression tore at Wufei's heart. Had he really expected they'd throw him out? That they'd automatically take Quatre's side?

'I don't think Duo's going to feel that way. He's never going to forgive me when he hears all this, isn't he?'

'Duo considers you to be one of his closest friends. You must know that. And he knows Quatre. I'm sure he'll want to hear your side of the story too.'

Trowa snorted. 'Aren't you forgetting the Winner/Maxwell Pact of Mutual Adoration?' he asked wryly.

'I think there have been a few cracks in that lately. He won't talk about it, but I know he's been terribly upset about Quatre not being in contact with him. And he was devastated about last Christmas, when Quatre didn't come. He'd been so excited, you know, having you both here for the holiday, and then Quatre made some last minute excuse. Honestly, if he'd been within arms' length at that point, I'd happily have swung for him.'

As Quatre had chosen to be on the other side of the universe, Wufei had settled for a 'phone call on Christmas Eve, in the course of which he'd read Quatre the riot act over his behaviour during the past few months. He had neglected and ignored Duo, his supposed best friend; he had been treating Trowa, the supposed love of his life, like dirt, parading his bevy of 'lady friends' across the stage of the world media; and he hadn't been able to find time to talk to Wufei for almost a year.

That had been over three months ago, and they hadn't spoken since.

Being Duo, he'd brushed it off, saying it was only a stupid holiday to celebrate a god that none of them believed in anyway. It was true, to a point, except Christmas had been special nonetheless. That magical day when the war had ended. It had become a tradition for the four of them to spend it together, whatever else was going in their lives.

'I'm sorry,' Trowa said bleakly.

'It's hardly your fault.'

'Isn't it? Maybe I should have been stronger with him. I knew he wasn't keeping in touch with you guys, that he'd become obsessed with all this political clap-trap. Well, you know Quat, he thinks he can solve every damn thing that's wrong with the universe, and he got it into his head that he should be fighting for increased colonial independence. Nothing else matters but that.'

'I'm sorry,' Wufei said, uncomfortably aware that he was probably sounding like Quatre. The next few days were going to be hellish; Quat was going to want to talk to Trowa; Duo was probably going to fly off the handle when he heard all of this. 'Tro, do you want me to explain all this to Duo?'

'I'll do it. It's my fucking mess, isn't it?' Trowa lay back down on the bed. 'Would you mind if I skipped dinner? I don't think I'd be very good company.'

'Of course I don't mind. I can bring you something if you're hungry.'

'It's all right. I'd just like to sleep, now. I'm pretty wrecked.'

'I can imagine.' Actually, it was too horrific to imagine; to be in that position. If Zechs ever left him… 'I'll see you tomorrow, then.'

'Of course.' Wufei hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and wrapped his friend in a tight hug. 'Don't worry, Tro. I'm so glad you came here. I promise, we'll do everything we can to help you get through this.'