Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ At Your Side ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

At Your Side (4/4)

By Anne Olsen

Rating/warnings: PG13 this chapter, angst, romance, humour.

Pairings: 3x4

Author's notes: This fic is part of the 'Outlasting Time' arc, which is obviously being written way out of order *grins. For more information and to read the other stories in the series check out the following

http://www.angelfire.com/ab7/shadesandechoes/outlastingtime.ht ml

Summary: Six months after 'Counterpoint', Quatre and Trowa discover their long distance relationship isn't working.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys when I'm finished.

Thanks to: Raletha and Bast for beta reading. I value your ongoing support and friendship more than you probably realise. This one is dedicated to you, guys. *hugs.

Feedback to: anneo@paradise.net.nz

******

Chapter Four

It was a wild night, the wind pulled roughly at the locks of hair plastered to his face. Quatre turned at the sudden noise to see a large black object speeding towards him. The blond attempted to will first one leg and then the other to obey his commands but he couldn't move. The object came closer. It brought darkness, hatred, and an overpowering desire for revenge.

Move, damn it, move. Quatre repeated the words to himself, trying to force himself to take action, but nothing happened.

He closed his eyes, trying to find an escape from the pain in the ensuing blackness, but it followed him, sending sharp needles of agony through one leg. Quatre cried out. His hands struggled against the firm cockpit restraints of the Gundam.

What the hell?

Eyes opening, he glanced around his surroundings, his vision blurring as the pain in leg muddied his brain's response. What had happened to the field? To the circus?

"Quatre?" Trowa's voice crackled across the com system, and Quatre heaved a sigh of relief. Surely Trowa would know what was going on and be able to make sense of it?

"Trowa," he began, his gloved hands gripping the controls. Gloved hands? Quatre frowned, recognising the cockpit of Wing ZERO. He struggled against his restraints, but he was trapped. "Trowa!"

His lover's voice was full of regret. "It's too late, Cat, too late." The spacesuited figure floated in the wreckage of his mobile suit, eerily silhouetted against a graveyard of stars, and the radio crackled again.

"Trowa's dead, and you've killed him," Heero's voice was accusing, but he spoke the truth.

"No!" Quatre cried out. "We have to save Trowa." He reached out for Trowa, desperate to connect with the familiar emotional signature of his lover. He found only emptiness, a void which couldn't be filled, a stench of death he knew he'd never be able to rid himself of. "I'm sorry," he cried. "Please, no."

Feeling something cool against his skin, Quatre's fingers tightened around the object, and he felt a sudden calmness, a sense of belonging and love reach through the darkness to embrace him and give reassurance that everything was okay. He groaned, shading his eyes against the sudden light, before a hand shook him gently.

"Mr Winner, are you all right?"

"What?" Quatre struggled to sit up, his voice coming out as a croak. "Where am I? What happened?" The hospital gown clung to his sweat soaked body; running his tongue over his lips he could taste salt from the tears running down his face.

Hospital gown?

Memories came flooding back, and he glanced down at the object that had helped to guide him out of his nightmare and back to wakefulness.

"You're in the hospital, Mr Winner." The nurse bending over him sounded concerned. "Would you like me to get you a drink of water? That sounded like a nasty nightmare."

"Thank you," Quatre's fingers traced the inscription on the watch Trowa had given him, his breathing beginning to even out once more. He took a grateful sip of cool liquid from the glass she offered, and then laid his head back against the pillow. "I'm sorry to have bothered you," he said, "I hope I didn't disturb anyone."

Shaking her head, the night nurse smiled down at him. "No, it's fine. Go back to sleep if you can, it's nearly morning." She paused. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, thank you." Quatre watched her check on the boy in the other bed before leaving the room. He shivered, pulling the bedclothes around him. The bed felt cold without Trowa to share it with, and he suddenly felt very much alone. Closing his eyes, he tentatively reached for his lover empathically, smiling when he felt an answering tendril of reassurance and love. The bond between them seemed to be strengthening, their awareness of each other growing even when they weren't together. Trowa is okay, he told himself, pulling the calmness of his lover around him like a protective cloak. He's okay, it was only a dream.

******

Waking suddenly, Trowa shivered at the strong feelings of fear, guilt, and loss echoing through him. It took a few minutes to realise he was experiencing some sort of empathic feedback from Quatre, and that his lover must be in the throes of a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare - he didn't want to contemplate other options.

If I can feel Cat, maybe he can sense what I'm feeling too. Trowa took several deep breaths, concentrating on projecting a sense of calm, before reaching out for a sense of the other boy, the same way he'd done during the war when Quatre had needed him. Feel what I feel, Quatre, he thought, filling his thoughts with the memories of how Quatre made him feel when they were together. Belonging, love, acceptance.

It was somewhat unsettling to experience Quatre's emotions as well as his own; he'd had a taste of it before but never this strongly, apart from during lovemaking, or when Quatre had needed him. Trowa frowned, but dismissed the thought. If Quatre were in danger, surely he wouldn't be sensing this blanket of calm around him now? A slight ripple in the empathic link caused Trowa to smile, as he felt something unmistakably Quatre caress his consciousness. He lay back on his pillow, imagining Quatre lying in his hospital bed thinking about him. Trailing his hand through the air, Trowa could almost feel the soft but firm skin of his lover under his touch, smell his clean spicy scent and the green apple of the shampoo he liked to use.

"Oh, Cat," he whispered. "I miss you, my love." Pulling the bedclothes around him, he sought refuge in the memories of the times they'd been together, shivering at the coldness of the echoed loneliness he felt from Quatre. Concentrating on his lover, imagining the warmth of his smile, the love reflected in his eyes, Trowa projected his own love for Quatre through their link in an attempt to reassure him that this time apart would soon be over. Slowly, he felt Quatre relax, and his awareness lessen as the other boy slipped into sleep.

A muffled curse came from the direction of the kitchen. Trowa opened his eyes, glancing at the clock on his bedside cabinet. Shaking his head in an attempt to wake up, he realised he wasn't aware that he'd fallen asleep. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, yawning and running his hands through his hair. Smiling as he remembered Quatre's reaction to his morning hair the day before, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and decided he definitely needed a shower before he headed for the hospital. The doctor had told him he could visit whenever Quatre needed him, and after what had happened last night, he wanted to go to his lover as soon as he could, to reassure both Quatre and himself.

"Don't you think you should wait until visiting hours, Trowa?" Cathy poured another cup of coffee, and took a seat at the table. "You don't want to go upsetting the nurses." Her tone changed to that of concern. "Did you sleep okay last night? I'm sure I heard you tossing and turning at some stage during the night." She paused, lowering her cup. "I thought I might go see Quatre myself later. Is there anything you want me to pick up for him? Iria said he'd given you the key to his hotel room, I could swing by there and grab a change of clothing or something if you like. Unless you'd prefer to do it yourself."

"Thanks, Cathy, that would be great." Trowa nodded his gratitude. "I'm sure he'd appreciate it," he smiled. "To be honest, I think you'd probably have a better idea of what he'd need than I would. And…"

"And then you could get in to see him sooner," Cathy answered his smile with one of her own. "I'm glad the two of you seem to be working things out; poor Quatre seemed quite upset before the accident." She placed a hand over his. "If you need a place to stay when he gets out of hospital, you're both welcome to stay here, Tro. I heard what happened yesterday, and well, I just wanted to let you know I'm here for you, and for Quatre."

"I'm…we were hoping, Cathy…" Trowa hesitated. He was touched by the offer, but it was important that he and Quatre spend some time alone to sort out their relationship. A lot had happened over the past few months; the times they 'd been together had been good, no they'd been better than good, but he knew he'd hurt Quatre, and there was no way he wanted to take a chance of that happening again. Even though they'd taken the first step at trying to put things right and talk to each other, they still had a long way to go. "We need to find a place of our own. You don't mind do you?"

"Of course I don't mind." Cathy shook her head. "I'd be lying both to myself and to you, if I said I'm happy to see you go, but you need time alone together, to learn to adjust to being in a relationship full time. You can't do that with me around, especially with the size of this place." She grinned. "Quatre's going to need some TLC while he recovers and I'm sure you don't want me walking in on you…tending to his needs."

"Er, no." Quatre's reaction to Trowa's detailed description of how he planned to look after those 'needs' had left them both keen to pursue those activities once they were able. It would be a challenge to get around the problem of the plaster cast, but Trowa was sure they'd have fun trying out different solutions. The corner of his mouth twitched as he remembered Quatre's smirk and suggestive comments.

"How long are Heero and the others planning to stay in Bern?" Cathy asked.

"They've booked their accommodation for a couple of days, but Wufei's heading back tomorrow. He's in the middle of a case." Duo had been annoyed that he hadn't been assigned to the accident investigation, but had informed them he was staying at least until Quatre was released from the hospital.

"You'll need to go home and sleep sometime, Tro," he'd said. "And I think someone should stick around and keep an eye on Quatre, in case the bastard tries again." Duo's eyes had hardened, his voice having grown cold with his next statement. "And if he does I'll make sure he finds out the hard way that it doesn't pay to mess with Gundam pilots."

The comments made by Rashid when he'd been informed of 'Master Quatre's' accident had also reassured Trowa that a second attempt on Quatre's life would be highly unlikely. Quatre didn't seem to think he needed protection, and wouldn't be impressed to learn he'd acquired a permanent Maguanac shadow, but Trowa disagreed. Under normal circumstances Quatre was more than capable of taking care of himself, but until he was fully recovered Trowa wasn't about to take any chances. The memory of finding Quatre lying in that field, unconscious and covered in blood, wasn't something he was ever going to forget.

I couldn't lose you, Cat, not now. When Quatre had been wheeled into surgery, Trowa had lost his awareness of his lover after the anaesthetic had taken effect. Struggling to reassure himself that Quatre was all right, he'd reasoned that sedatives seemed to dampen the blond's empathic ability and shielding, and with it the link between them. Trowa suspected that had been why all the negative emotion had affected him so strongly after Ghazal and her husband had reacted to the news about his and Quatre's relationship too.

Pulling out his wallet to find some coins for the coffee machine, Trowa had instead been drawn to the photo he'd carried since the war. Quatre didn't know about the photo; no one did apart from Duo.

"He loves you, Tro, just as much as you love him. Don't leave it too late to tell him," Duo had given him the photo, just in case, surprising him with both his gesture and advice.

Usually Trowa found the memories associated with the last time he'd waited for his lover to come out of surgery too painful to deal with, but this time, as he'd caressed the photo of Quatre taken over half a year before, they had given him something to hang on to. Quatre had been all right last time, and the wound in his side had been far worse than this. He would be all right now. He had to be.

"Trowa?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked you if you wanted more coffee," Cathy sounded concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What?"

"You're thinking about what happened aren't you?" Cathy refilled his cup without waiting for his answer. "It's hard seeing the people you love hurting, Trowa. It wasn't your fault, you know." She paused, eyes glazing over momentarily to take a trip into her own past. "It's easy with hindsight to speculate that making a different decision would have changed things. But you told me you needed to let Quatre go, that he needed his space. Even if you'd gone after him, it doesn't mean the accident wouldn't have happened."

"I know that, Cathy. I…" Cathy had stressed the importance of family, of how having someone to talk things over with would help. "I nearly…this isn't the first time I thought I was going to lose him." Trowa's voice echoed his regret. "And yet even then I couldn't find…I didn't do the right thing. All this time," He pulled the photograph from his wallet and showed her. "It was almost the end of the war. Quatre fought the last battle while badly wounded, and afterwards when we landed the Gundams; he was lying in Sandrock's cockpit - he was so still, and pale. I thought," Trowa's voice hitched. "And when I found him the other night, it was just like Libra all over again."

"You can't let the past affect your future, Trowa. I haven't had much chance to get to know Quatre yet, but - I like him, very much so, and I can see he makes you happy."

"He does," Trowa couldn't help but smile at the memory of Quatre sitting in the trailer dressed in a borrowed robe and boxers that night. "I want to make him happy too, but Cathy, I've never…I feel relaxed around him, he accepts me for who I am. He doesn't care that I don't even have a name of my own to offer." His voice dropped to a whisper. "When Quatre and I are together, it's like we're part of a whole, that I can reach out and touch his soul, and he touches mine. Yet I've hurt him once, how do I make sure I don't do it again? How can I protect him when he doesn't want me to? I want to respect his wishes, but at the same time I'm scared of losing him."

"It's normal to have fears, what's important is that you've admitted them to yourself." Cathy took another sip of coffee. "Do you and Quatre talk, Trowa? I mean really talk? If you're worried about losing him, that whoever's behind this accident might try again, you need to tell him."

"But what if …I don't want him to think I'm trying to…I'm worried about how he might react. Cathy, I don't want to argue with him again."

"Do you want this relationship to work?"

The question wasn't one he'd been expecting, but Trowa answered his adopted sister without thinking. "Yes."

"Well, then you have your answer. Even if it's painful and you both end up saying things you don't want to, it's better to be open and honest. Avoiding the truth isn't going to cut it, Tro, and I think you know that from experience. It sounds to me as though you both have issues you need to sort through together." Cathy stood, and put her hand out for his empty cup. "Now go get yourself organised. Don't you have a boyfriend to visit?"

*******

"Wow, that looks nasty. How did you break your leg?" The boy in the next bed indicated his own arm. "I came off a motorbike. Took a corner too fast. Name's Josh Richards by the way. And you're?"

"Quatre Winner," replied Quatre, nodding politely towards his new room-mate. Even though the other boy had arrived yesterday afternoon he'd been asleep for most of the time, not stirring until just after Trowa had left. And by that stage, Quatre had decided to feign sleep, and wait until morning to introduce himself. He'd had enough to deal with, and wanted to get his emotions back under control first. "I was hit by a car."

Nodding, Josh grinned. "Nasty things cars. I prefer bikes myself. People say they aren't safe, but that's half the fun, I figure. Got to live dangerously. Do you own a bike?"

No, just a Gundam. Quatre bit back a grin of his own, resisting the temptation to come out with the comment on the tip of his tongue. "No, nothing as exciting as that. Sorry about your arm."

"So who's Trowa? I heard you calling out in your sleep last night. Sounded like one hell of a nightmare." Josh paused. "Hey, you said your name was Winner. Are you related to the Winners? You know, those rich guys who own just about all of L4." He laughed. "I suppose not, if you did you'd probably have your own room, and servants running around after you."

"I decided to give them the day off," Quatre deadpanned, hiding his annoyance at Josh's questions.

"Oh shit, you are. Wow, wait until Crystal shows. She's always wanted to meet the rich and famous." Josh winked. "She has this thing for good looking guys though, that's why she's with me. Guess my good looks and charm were just as important as my money. Or at least that's what she keeps telling me."

"Time for breakfast," Jennifer, the nurse from the day before, entered with two trays. "I hope you guys are getting to know each other. Do you want tea or coffee to start the day?"

"Coffee, please," replied Quatre, deciding a caffeine rush might be what he needed to survive what was turning out to be a morning he could well do without. He glanced at his watch. Damn, there was still another hour until visiting.

"Coffee, darling," Josh smiled at her, his white perfect smile reminding Quatre of a shark. "I was just telling Quatre here how I came off my motorbike." He made a show of wincing as he moved his arm. "I don't suppose you could help me eat my breakfast?"

"Poor darling," sympathised Jennifer. "And no, not part of the job description. Sorry, you'll just have to be brave and cope all by yourself."

Shrugging, Josh smiled again. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right? But then, wouldn't do to make my girlfriend jealous. She's crazy about me. Hey, Q…you don't mind if I call you Q do you?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Quatre told him. Trowa, where the hell are you?

"Hey, Q," Josh continued, ignoring Quatre's request, "You got a girlfriend? Crystal's coming in later, maybe the two of them could get to know each other. Become best friends and all. Then we could stay in touch later on. Yeah, I like that idea. After all, I'm sure we all move in the same social circles and all."

"Um, I don't think that's going to work." Quatre hesitated for a moment. "My…"

"I passed Trowa on my way past the nurses station," Jennifer interrupted. "He was talking to some guy, or rather the other guy seemed to be dominating most of the conversation."

"Other guy?" asked Quatre, attempting to ignore his suspicions.

"A cute looking guy, about the same height and age as you. Something unusual about him though, something you don't often see…"

"He had long hair down to his waist which he wore in a braid?" Had Duo spent the night here keeping an eye on him? Damn it, Trowa, I don't need watching over, I can take care of myself. Quatre could imagine his over-protective lover making sure whoever had been driving that car wouldn't get a second chance. He attempted to calm himself, knowing he was over reacting. Trowa loves me. He's just showing his concern.

Jennifer nodded, moving to straighten up his bedclothes. "I thought by the way they were talking, he must be a friend."

"No way," Josh's smile turned into a smirk, unable to resist adding his point of view before Quatre could confirm Jennifer's observation. "A guy with hair that long? He must be gay or something. I tell you I pick those types a mile off." He tapped the side of his head. "I have good gaydar." Seeing Quatre's puzzled expression he continued, "you know, the almost psychic ability to pick whether someone's straight or not."

"That's…interesting. So you figure you can pick someone's sexual orientation?" The tone of Quatre's voice changed, but Josh didn't appear to notice, "by this 'gaydar' of yours?"

"Yeah, sure." Josh shrugged. "It's a gift. So am I right? Is this friend of yours gay? And don't worry, I'm not going to hold it against you if he is." He lowered his voice. "I've met gay people before and some of them are really quite nice."

"Anything I can get you, Quatre? A new roomie perhaps?" Jennifer raised an eyebrow at Josh's comments.

"No, it's okay, Jennifer. Thanks." I'm a Gundam pilot. I can handle this.

"Well, let me know if you need anything." She waggled a finger at Josh. "You just behave yourself, young man. And thank your lucky stars I'm a nurse, or next time that coffee might end up somewhere else. Especially if my husband finds out you were trying to chat me up."

"Feisty, isn't she?" Josh eyed the nurse up appreciatively as she left the room. "I like my women with a bit of fire. How about you, Q?"

"What time is your girlfriend coming in today?" Changing the subject seemed the best approach for the moment. Josh was starting to annoy the hell out of him, and for a moment Quatre wondered how the other boy would enjoy taking Trowa's place the next time Cathy wanted to practice her knife throwing act.

"Not soon enough," Josh sighed. "Sucks being in here, it really does." His expression brightened. "Don't suppose you'd mind if we drew the curtains later, so we could…er…make out? Tell you what, if you don't tell the nurses, I won't tell if you want to do the same thing. Fair's fair, right? I'll even try and keep the noise level down. Not that I'm loud or anything, but Crystal…well she…"

A tentative knock interrupted Josh much to Quatre's relief, and Trowa entered the room, a box of chocolates under one arm. "Are you okay, Cat? You seem a bit…"

"I'm fine, just pleased to see you." Quatre took a deep breath, deciding that if he was going to survive the next twenty four hours, the best thing to do was to play Josh at his own game and level the playing field. "Josh has just offered to cover for me if I want to…what was that phrase you used again…make out." Sensing Josh's confusion, Quatre realised this was going to be much more satisfying than he'd first thought, as his lips met Trowa's in a passionate kiss. "Oh I'm sorry, Josh. I should have introduced you properly. Josh Richards, This is my lover," Quatre paused to allow his words to fully sink in, "Trowa Barton."

******

Heero knocked loudly on the trailer door several times, before surveying the busy circus grounds while he waited for its occupant to answer. He recognised several of the circus hands from the time he'd spent recovering from his attempt to self detonate during the war, but most of them didn't appear to remember him. That was to be expected, he reasoned. After all he'd been in a coma for a month, and then deliberately kept to himself before he and Trowa had left to find the Noventa family.

Grimacing as he remembered his fatal mistake at New Edwards, Heero gave the middle-aged woman who answered the door a cursory nod. "Good morning, ma'am," he said politely, showing his preventer ID. "My name is Heero Yuy, and I'd like to ask you some questions about…"

"Oh, I know who you are, young man," Dolores Montrose smiled at him. "Come in, make yourself at home." She indicated one of the chairs on the other side of an old wooden table, her smile turning into a laugh when he raised an eyebrow at the crystal ball and incense sticks. "Tricks of the trade. People like to see what's expected, makes them feel more comfortable."

Ignoring the offered chair, Heero opted to stay standing. He wasn't here to engage in small talk. "I believe you witnessed Quatre Winner's accident on Tuesday evening? Can you tell me exactly what you saw?"

"Be glad to help," Dolores pulled two cups out of the old cupboard above the sink, and sighed. "You're going to be here a while, Heero. Why not take the weight off? I won't bite you know."

"I don't believe I insinuated that you would," the side of Heero's mouth twitched as he answered. "But," He hesitated; usually in these types of investigations he didn't work alone. Heero usually hovered in the background, only interjecting with the occasional question while Duo did what he was good at, talking, listening, and steering the conversation towards retrieving maximum information. What would Duo do in this situation?

"Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, thank you." Heero replied, coming to a decision. If he let Dolores follow the path she wanted to, he might learn more. "Can you describe the car?" he prompted, sliding into the chair she'd offered him earlier.

The tea had an unusual smell to it, Heero decided, as Dolores placed the cups on the table, and seated herself opposite him. "Try it, don't know if you like it until you do." Dolores took a sip of her own tea, her eyes glazing over as she gathered together her memories.

"The car?" Heero asked again, picking up his cup and sampling the hot beverage in an attempt to hide his impatience. The question he'd asked was simple enough; surely it shouldn't be taking her this long to formulate her answer.

"I'm getting there. Didn't anyone teach you any manners?" Dolores frowned. "The car was black, small though, and fast. Came straight for your friend - he hadn't stepped onto the road, not sure he was going to." She paused before shaking her head. "No, I suspect he was thinking about heading back to the circus, back to young Trowa."

"Can we stick to the facts, and not wander off on tangents and suppositions, please?" Simply answering the question was a fair expectation, but Dolores appeared to be a witness who would use the situation to give her opinion on anything and everything. Heero sighed. This was obviously going to take longer than he'd first thought.

"Facts come in all shapes and sizes," Dolores' cryptic reply did nothing to improve Heero's mood. "And the way ahead isn't always as simple as it appears to be." Her expression softened, and she smiled. "You'll find that out soon enough. Keep your eyes and ears open, Heero. The lives of those you care about might depend on it."

Was the woman completely in touch with reality? "So it wasn't an accident?" It was important to get her back on track. Now was not the time for Dolores to practice her fortune telling routine; he didn't have the time to waste on such nonsense. "I was told you made the comment that if Quatre's reaction had been slower there was a good chance he might not have survived. Is that correct?"

To his relief, Dolores merely nodded. "Trowa's soul-mate has enemies, Heero." Her eyes closed, and she seemed to detach herself from her surroundings for a moment, before continuing. Eyes snapping open, her next statement took him by surprise. "All your fates are connected, both past and future, and in what you will leave behind."

This conversation was going no-where. "I'm only interested in the present, and immediate past, ma'am. Save your party tricks for the paying customers. If you are unable to answer any more questions perhaps you can refer me to someone who can?" Heero frowned. Why had she referred to Quatre as 'Trowa's soul-mate'? It was highly unlikely Trowa would have shared the information that he and Quatre were a couple and her comments about their fates being connected? Obviously her grasp of the difference between fantasy and reality was becoming blurred.

"I've given you the information you need." Dolores shrugged. "I can't do any more than that. I'm sorry you aren't more open to what is outside your own realm of experience. Hopefully one day you might be." She reached over to retrieve his cup, "Good luck with your investigation, and tell Cathy if you see her that I'll be bringing her over a cooked meal later. She's got enough to worry about at present."

Heero nodded. "Thank you for your help." He rose to his feet only to be stopped by her hand on his arm, and it took all his will power to ignore the reaction his instincts dictated.

"Just remember that sometimes what you seek is right in front of you," Dolores' tone was serious but there was a twinkle in her eye with her next comment. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Heero, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." [1]

What the hell was she going on about now? Not for the first time, Heero wished Duo were handling this instead of himself.

She grinned at his reaction before removing her hand and opening the door to the trailer. "Got to hand it to the bard. He has a saying for every occasion."

And with that comment Heero found himself outside, blinking rapidly as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright sunlight.

******

Quatre sighed again, rolling his eyes. Didn't this girl ever come up for air? He glanced over at Trowa, who was watching the whole proceedings with his usual calm, and a trickle of envy ran through him. Trowa had only spent an hour listening to Crystal giving her boyfriend a detailed description of how she 'missed him, needed him, and couldn't live without him.'

"Think about tomorrow, Cat," Trowa leant over and whispered. "Unless you don't want a personal demonstration of how much I've missed you, needed you, and can't live without you."

"Hmm, is that a promise?" The description Trowa had given him of the apartment sounded wonderful. He still couldn't believe their luck in finding it. Jennifer had overheard them discussing their accommodation plans. The hotel Quatre had originally booked into had only been suitable for the short term, and she had asked them if they'd be interested in apartment sitting for her friend. Sarah, she explained, a photographer, had almost given up hope finding someone, and she didn't like the idea of leaving her home uninhabited for the two months she had been called away on assignment to L1.

"So what's he like in bed, Quatre?" Josh's question took both of them by surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" Damn. Suddenly Crystal's inane banter seemed preferable; at least while she'd been monopolising the conversation it had taken attention away from himself and Trowa.

Both Josh and Crystal seemed amused by his reaction. "Oh," she said, slapping Josh on the shoulder. "I must apologise for Joshey's complete lack of manners. The poor baby just isn't himself since his terrible accident." Blinking several times, and giving Quatre a distinctly feral grin, she continued. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but you see I've never really known someone who's gay before, and I was wondering if you'd mind if I asked you a few questions." The red head paused. "But of course, I wouldn't have dreamed of asking in such a direct manner. Some of us know how to behave in public. Right, Joshua, darling?"

"Yeah sure." Josh at least had the decency to blush slightly before continuing. "Sorry about that, Q. "

Don't call me Q. Quatre gritted his teeth and squeezed Trowa's hand, hoping the curiosity he was picking up from both Josh and Crystal wasn't indicative of the route of today's conversation. "How long have you two been together?" he asked politely, attempting to steer the topic away from his own love life.

"We met during the war," Crystal answered the question for both of them, pausing to give Joshua a passionate kiss. "It was so romantic." She fluttered her eyelashes. "You've probably heard of the Gundams, right?"

"Vaguely," said Trowa, his mouth turning up in a minute twitch.

Nodding enthusiastically, Crystal continued her story. "Well, we were there when one of the colonies was attacked by OZ. Josh had taken me to see the circus; he's so romantic like that, you know. Have you ever been to the circus, Quatre? I'm sure if you haven't I could take you one day." She smiled coyly. "If your boyfriend doesn't mind, that is. Would you mind if I borrowed him for a day, Trowa? That was your name, right?"

"Trowa and I have been to the circus very recently, thank you, Crystal." Quatre sighed. "So what happened next?" Better to get this over and done with so he could attempt to enjoy what was left of Trowa's visit. It was obvious she was determined to tell this story in detail, whether they wanted to hear it or not.

"Well, anyway," Crystal paused dramatically. "Josh very bravely offered to fight off any soldiers who would want to have their evil way with me, and he would have too if the Gundams hadn't appeared and saved the day." Her eyes glazed over. "I'd just love to meet one of those pilots. No offence to anyone in the room, but I bet they're so handsome, and brave, and...." She let out a loud sigh. "I particularly love that red suit. Heavyarms, I think it's called. I heard rumours that it used to run out of bullets a lot, but," Crystal winked, "I bet if that pilot was with me, he'd never run out of ammunition, if you know what I mean."

"He's probably already involved with someone, darling," Josh interrupted. "People like that usually are. What do you think, Q?"

Quatre deliberately didn't meet Trowa's gaze as he replied with a straight face. "Most definitely," he agreed. "What a shame you never got to meet him, Crystal. I'm sure he would have loved to meet you, if he wasn't already involved with someone, of course."

"Who's involved with someone?" A familiar voice cut across the conversation, as Duo entered the room. "Hey guys, thought I'd honour you with my presence." He glanced around. "No evil sisters from hell today? Damn, and I had what I was going to say all worked out."

No, only the evil roomie from hell, and his girlfriend.

"We were talking about Gundam pilots," Josh told Duo helpfully. "Crystal, that's my girl by the way, nearly met one of them during the war."

"Which one?" Duo raised an eyebrow, and Quatre stifled a groan, seeing the familiar twinkle in his friend's eye. "I've met a couple of Gundam pilots, maybe we could compare notes."

"I don't know his name," Crystal clarified, "but I'm sure he's really cute."

"Of course," said Duo. "So which Gundam did this guy have the privilege of piloting?" He smirked. "I know for a fact that Deathscythe's pilot is a real looker, and I heard rumours that…" Duo lowered his voice "the pilot of Sandrock is this real cute blond. But then the person to ask about that is Trowa here. Apparently he's actually met the guy."

"A cute blond? Oh how wonderful," Crystal sighed again. "I have a real thing for blonds." She giggled. "I suppose that means you do too, Trowa. I mean if you knew that pilot and now you're with Quatre." Obviously she hadn't noticed that Duo's information had contradicted Trowa's earlier comment of 'vaguely' hearing about the Gundams. The last thing they needed was for her to discover there were three Gundam pilots in the room.

"I'm sorry we haven't been introduced properly. Q, where are your manners?" Josh hurriedly changed the subject. "I'm Josh Richards, and this is Crystal." He held out his hand to shake Duo's.

"Duo Maxwell." Duo perched himself on the end of Quatre's bed, and grinned. "Cathy tells me you're escaping this place tomorrow, Cat. Bet you can't wait."

"You've got that right," Quatre muttered under his breath. Another twenty-four hours sharing a room with Josh wasn't something he was looking forward to. Surely there must be some way of checking out of the hospital earlier. "So you're not working on a case at present, Duo?"

"Nope," Duo answered. "Taking a well deserved break." He stretched and yawned to prove his point.

"Case?" Crystal asked, her eyes wide. It was obvious that she had no hesitation in interrupting what was supposed to be a private conversation.

Quatre sighed. He and Trowa would have to wait until he was discharged and they moved into the apartment to discuss everything they needed. Damn. There was still so much to be said, especially on his part. The look on Trowa's face as he'd pushed him away in the shower…on some level he knew Trowa understood but it didn't lessen the guilt he was feeling regarding his actions. At the time he'd had no choice because of his inability to cope with the overwhelming emotion. Trowa had since found the courage to be open; he owed it to him to do the same. This relationship wasn't going to work if they weren't completely honest with each other; the events of the past few days had shown them both that very clearly.

"Are you some kind of police detective?" Crystal was taking no notice of the fact that she was being ignored. "How exciting."

"Preventer," Duo told her. "Not as exciting an occupation as your average Gundam pilot, but hey what is?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure how you cope with running WE, Cat. It's not something I could do. All that admin. No thanks."

"Depends on your approach." Quatre argued. "When you come down to it, at times there isn't much difference between the boardroom and the battlefield. The strategies are often the same." His tone grew wistful. "But yes, I miss…" Trowa coughed and he realised Crystal was watching them and hanging on every word. Didn't she have any idea of the concept of privacy?

"Were you some kind of soldier, Q?" Apparently Crystal wasn't the only one eavesdropping. "I hadn't thought you would be, how would you cope with…" Josh's voice tailed off.

"How would I cope with what?" Quatre's thin hold on his patience threatened to break.

"You're gay, right?"

"So?" Duo rolled his eyes and the corners of Trowa's mouth twitched as Quatre replied.

"Don't you get turned on by all those guys in the locker rooms? I mean," Josh started to flounder as he attempted to put what passed for thoughts into words. "I know how I'd feel if I was in a room full of half naked women."

I don't believe this. Quatre glanced at his lover, fighting the urge to ask him to 'get me the fuck out of here before I kill this idiot', and wondered, not for the first time, how Trowa still managed to project his customary calm. "Maybe I have more self control than you do?" he asked instead, attempting to hide his growing annoyance by counting slowly to twenty.

"Self control?" asked Josh. "Where's the fun in that?" He sniggered and Crystal blushed.

"Maybe you have a point," Quatre agreed with a sigh. "Like now, for instance. I'm fighting the urge to…umm…wouldn't you and Crystal like some privacy to make out like you suggested earlier? I'm sure we could arrange something to…"

"Ooh, do you want to get rid of us so that you can make out as well?" Duo was trying hard not to laugh at Crystal's response. "I've never seen two guys kissing before. I don't suppose if I asked nicely you'd show me."

Duo shrugged. "It must be terrible being so disadvantaged." He waggled a finger. "Shame on you two. The poor girl has never seen two guys kissing. What were you thinking? Obviously I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands and rectify the situation."

"Duo…" The tone in Trowa's voice suggested he wasn't impressed with either the tone in Duo's voice or the look he was giving Quatre. Quatre's mind went back to the kiss he'd shared with his friend during the war, and he blushed, remembering the intensity of the emotions that had flowed between them. Trowa frowned, and glanced again between the two of them, his brow furrowing in an unspoken question.

The smirk on Duo's face did nothing to reassure Trowa, or the suggestive way in which he cleared his throat, and licked his lips. Then, in one fluid movement, Duo slid off the bed, crossed the room, and kissed Josh full on the mouth.

"That good enough for you, Crystal?" he drawled, ignoring the sudden silence filling the room. Wiping one hand over his lips, he gave a mock shudder, before taking a large gulp of water from the glass by Quatre's bedside cabinet.

It was hard to decide what was funnier, the way Crystal's mouth was hanging open, or the interesting shade of red Josh's cheeks were turning. The side of Trowa's mouth twitched momentarily before his hand slipped out of Quatre's, and his eyes sparked in undisguised mirth. "Oh God, Duo, I needed that," he managed to say before he gave up attempting to hide his reaction and erupted into laughter.

You should laugh more often, Quatre thought, before he too succumbed and added his own laughter to Trowa's. Duo coughed, his water going down the wrong way, as he let out a guffaw mid swallow, and bent with his hands on his knees, spraying water over the side of Quatre's bed.

"I'm gonna need to wash my mouth out," he complained in a loud whisper, leaning towards the other pilots, and ignoring Josh and Crystal's apparent state of shock. "You guys had sure better appreciate all the stuff I do for you."

******

"I can't believe how wonderful the view is," Trowa couldn't help but smile at the childlike wonder in his lover's voice. Quatre had never managed to lose his awe of the beauty of the Earth; it didn't seem to matter how often he saw it. He remembered once when they'd been on Earth, during the war, Quatre had dragged him to a window so that they could watch the sunrise. He'd told Trowa that it reminded him of the hope still in the world, the hope that one day the war would stop and they could go back to their own lives, instead of having to spend each day killing, something which neither of them wanted to do. The red of the new sunlight had bathed Quatre in its rays, the glow reflecting both his inner and outer beauty as he'd talked enthusiastically of the future, his warmth reaching out to touch Trowa when Quatre had linked his fingers through his own.

Offering Quatre his warmest smile, Trowa had wondered if maybe there could be a chance that they could have a relationship much more than just friendship. I think I'm falling in love with you, he'd thought.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Quatre. His gaze shifted from the window to settle on Trowa. He propped his crutches against the love seat, and leaned his weight against its high back.

"Memories," Trowa answered, snaking his arm around his lover. Quatre moved his head to rest on Trowa's shoulder and sighed, shifting onto his good leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, Trowa pulled the other boy towards him in a hug, closing his eyes and filling his senses with everything that was Quatre, his love and his life. "Do you remember that first sunrise you showed me?" he asked, his voice catching.

Quatre nodded, burying his head against Trowa's chest. When his eyes met Trowa's they were bright, and damp with emotion. "I almost told you I loved you that day," he smiled. "I would have if…"

"If Duo hadn't interrupted us," Trowa finished for him. "He seems to make a habit of that I notice." He ran his fingers through Quatre's hair in a gesture of affection. "I think, watching you that morning, that was when I realised I wanted more than just the friendship we had." He brushed his lips against his lover's. "That was when I realised I was falling in love with you."

"It took us until after the war to admit to each other how we felt," Quatre remembered, the sadness in his voice reflecting the pain of regret. "And even then we've wasted so much time. What if…? We could have lost our future before we'd had a chance to live it." He lifted his head, the set of his jaw reflecting that determination Trowa knew so well. "I want to do whatever it takes for this to work, Trowa. We've both made mistakes, it's time to grab hold of life with both hands and try to move forward."

"I'd like to," Trowa spoke the words shyly, and then his brow creased into a frown. "Cat? Are you okay?"

His shoulders slumping, before leaning back into Trowa's embrace, Quatre's voice was too quiet. "Could we sit, please, love? I guess all this has taken a lot more out of me than I thought."

A sudden wave of concern washed over him. Quatre had been through so much, and yet standing here talking, Trowa had almost forgotten the warning the doctor had given them that it would take time for him to recover his full strength. Gently easing Quatre onto the couch, he glanced around for something to help elevate his leg, adjusting the cushion on the sturdy wooden footstool several times before he was satisfied.

"I'm not an invalid," Quatre started to say, and then blushed. "Oh, umm, sorry. I suppose I am in a way." He wriggled, making himself more comfortable, and then patted the space next to him. "I…you've explained…" Quatre stumbled over his words as Trowa slid in next to him and waited patiently for him to continue. "What happened before the accident, it wasn't all your fault. I know you've been trying to protect me because…"

"Because I love you," Trowa finished for him. "But I should have still given you the chance to make your own decisions. You're more than capable of looking after yourself, Cat. I've seen enough to know that." He shrugged. "But wanting to look out for the people I care about, that's something I can't just turn off. In fact I'm not sure I want to turn it off." Trowa focused on Quatre's reaction; telling his lover what he was still only admitting to himself hadn't been easy, but he was determined to follow Cathy's advice. She'd been right, honesty was important for their relationship to work, even about those things they might not want to hear about each other, or admit to themselves. It would have been so much easier to reassure Quatre that he would try to curtail his protective tendencies, but Trowa couldn't make promises he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep.

"I need to make my own decisions," Quatre stroked the side of Trowa's hand with his fingers, pausing as their eyes met and placing his other hand on Trowa's knee. "I'm flattered that you want to protect me, and I know it's something I have to learn to accept." He swallowed before continuing. "My father," Quatre faltered before his voice grew stronger, and Trowa nodded his reassurance. His lover rarely spoke about his father or his childhood. His father's death had in part pushed him over the edge before he'd piloted ZERO, but Quatre had never told Trowa the details, preferring to change the subject, which even now was too painful for him to speak of.

"My father was a person who, to put it bluntly, had problems with control. His beliefs were the only beliefs to be adhered to, his way the only correct solution to any problem." Quatre smiled ruefully. "Of course his only son and heir's decision to disobey him and pilot a Gundam…It wasn't the first time I'd gone against his wishes, but this time I didn't tell him what my plans were because I knew what his response would be. I left him a note, Trowa, because I didn't want to be distracted from my mission by an argument from which I knew neither of us would back down."

"So he died without either of you having the chance to confront the other?" Trowa prompted, knowing when Quatre grew silent, that he was struggling to find the words.

"Oh, we confronted each other," the smile turned into a bitter laugh. "He told me exactly what he'd thought of my actions, just as I'd known he would. Father wasn't prepared to listen to my point of view. There was never right or wrong in his eyes, just one way, his way." Quatre shook his head. "All that effort to grow a male heir in one of those damned test tubes, someone who could take over WE, follow in his footsteps and be the perfect obedient son he desired. And instead he got me."

"I'm glad he did," Trowa commented softly. "He must have been proud of you, Quatre. What father wouldn't be?" Surely even Quatre's father, who had tried to force his son to choose a path in life he hadn't wanted to follow, and hadn't respected his desire to be true to himself, must have had some degree of pride regarding his determination to do what he thought was right.

The next words were spoken in a whisper, and when Quatre's head finally lifted to meet Trowa's concerned gaze, there were tears in his eyes. "He loved me, Trowa. I know he did. Even when we had that final argument, I could feel his desire to protect me." Trowa gently wiped one finger across Quatre's bottom eyelash, to catch the tear before it could fall. "He loved me in his own way, but he still couldn't find it in his heart to respect my opinion. I was never important enough to him to be considered an individual, someone who was capable of being his own person." The tears began to flow freely, and Trowa wrapped his arms around the other boy as he let his emotions come to the surface. All this pain would have been so raw when he'd stepped into ZERO's cockpit. No wonder the system had affected him so badly. It would have fed on his feelings of confusion and rejection.

"Even when he died," Trowa stroked Quatre's hair, kissing the top of his head, holding him close, but knowing he needed to talk and let it all out. "I felt him die, Trowa. He tried to tell Iria and I to go, to let him do what he had to. Father tried to protect us to the end, but he was wrong. He was wrong and he couldn't see it." Quatre's voice choked. "And then when you said…"

"When you found out I'd been attempting to make your decisions for you, because I didn't think you'd thought through the consequences? Oh, Quatre, I'm so sorry." Trowa's voice tailed off when he realised why Quatre had reacted the way he had.

"I know you love me, Trowa, and you were only doing what was right." Quatre pulled away from the embrace, his body shaking. "But that's exactly the reasoning my father used. I know you aren't my father. I know this is different." He placed his hand over his heart. "But it's hard to always react the way I should. I kept remembering Father's voice telling me how I didn't know what I was doing, how I was only a child who wasn't capable of…Damn it, I was a Gundam pilot. And he stood there talking to me as though I were three years old again." Quatre sighed. "I guess in his eyes, I always would have been, even if he'd lived. I wish there were some way to go back and fix things between us, but neither of us will ever get the chance now."

"The important thing is to move forward," Trowa told him. "It's impossible to change the past, it's gone, Cat." He leaned over and kissed Quatre. "But we have the future, our future, or at least I'd like to think we have."

"We have," Quatre confirmed. "I want you to be part of my future, Trowa." He frowned. "I know it's going to take a while to sort things out between us, but I love you, and don't want to jeopardise that again. I knew there was something worrying you but didn't say anything. I just keep hoping it would work out." He cupped Trowa's face in one hand. "If there's one thing I've learnt over the last few days, it's the importance of honesty."

Trowa nodded his agreement. "I can't pretend I don't want to protect you, but I'm not your father."

"I know that," Quatre opened his mouth to protest but Trowa placed one finger on his lips to silence him.

"Protectiveness is part of love, Quatre. It's a package deal, that need to look out for the one person who means the most to you, the person you can't live without." Trowa paused, searching for the right words. "But there's a difference between the protectiveness of a parent and that of a lover. You're my equal, Quatre, on every level and more than capable of looking after yourself. That's not the reason why…"

Now it was Quatre's turn to continue, as Trowa's voice trailed off. "You're the person who means the most to me too, Trowa. I remember how I felt when I thought I'd killed you with ZERO. That wasn't just…there's a side of me…I knew what I was doing before I climbed into that cockpit. I still wake up at night trying to forget what I did, I'm not sure I ever will." Quatre sighed. "I'm no angel, and I doubt I'm ever going to be. Everyone has their dark side, the side of themselves they bury and hope never sees the light of day. I'm scared. ZERO showed me it's closer to the surface that I thought. You say you want to protect me, but who's going to protect you if, " he faltered, "who's going to protect you from me, Trowa?"

Squeezing Quatre's hand in his own, Trowa answered without hesitation. This was something he knew without a doubt, yet if asked to explain he wouldn't have been able to say why. Maybe it came with the assuredness of loving and being loved in return? "We'll protect each other, Quatre. Everyone has a dark side, not just you. There are things in my past I'm not proud of, but we'll work through them together. Your ghosts, and mine, if that's okay with you." He smiled, running his fingers through Quatre's hair. "Maybe if we face them together we can lay them to rest." I'm not sure about my own past, but at least I can try to help you deal with yours. It was important to show his lover that he wasn't about to judge him by his past, by what he viewed as his failures, his lack of control.

"I'd like that, thank you." Quatre rolled his eyes. "Of course you realise you've now taken on the joys of the Winner family as well as the problems of its heir." He groaned. "I'm not sure I want to know what Ghazal is telling the board while we're here on Earth. Alimah told me she and Glen had taken the first flight back to L4, after our discussion at the hospital. I guess she's preparing them in her own special way to welcome me…welcome us home."

"We're not going to L4 until you're well enough to cope, and you aren't yet."

Quatre yawned again; the day had taken a lot out of him. "I can't stay away forever, Trowa. I have responsibilities."

"Responsibilities which can wait. I'm sure Iria and Alimah can keep things under control for the next six weeks."

"Six weeks? You can't be serious?" Quatre sounded horrified. "I can't…"

"You can," Trowa's tone was firm," and you will. Doctor's orders, Cat. We have this apartment until it's time for your cast to be removed which will give us time to sort ourselves and our relationship out, or at least get back on track." He waggled a finger. "The correct strategic plan for this situation is to regain our strength before," Trowa couldn't resist a grin, "preparing to go to battle."

Quatre shook his head in mock admiration. "I knew I shouldn't have made that comparison between the boardroom and the battlefield. Sounds as though WE will have to deal with two ex-Gundam pilots now, instead of one." He stifled another yawn. "Trowa, what are you doing?"

Ignoring Quatre's protests, Trowa picked him up. "It's late. You're tired. And with the way you were manoeuvring those crutches, it 'd be morning by the time you made it to the bedroom. I don't know about you, but I'd like to spend our first night in a bed, not on the couch."

"I had those crutches well under control, Mr Barton." Quatre's answering indignant grin was lost under another yawn. "I am a Gundam pilot, you know."

"Yeah, a damn good pilot when it comes to mobile suits, but hopeless when it comes to crutches. I'm sure that poor old lady thought you were intoxicated, or at least operating without a licence."

"Don't need a licence for…." Quatre's eyelids began to droop. "I don't think I can manage to get into my pyjamas on my own." His head fell back on the pillow after Trowa laid him gently on the bed. "Can we talk more in the morning?"

"Get some sleep, Cat, I'm not going anywhere." Trowa divested Quatre of his outer clothing, but left his loose trousers on to avoid disturbing the injured leg. Pulling the blankets around him, Trowa smiled at the sight of tousled blond hair against the ruby red of the satin pillowcase. It was a sight he was looking forward to seeing before closing his eyes at night, and upon opening them each morning. That and feeling the presence and warmth of the person he loved as he slept.

"Don't be too long, Trowa. I want to go to sleep knowing you're beside me." Quatre's words were beginning to slur; he was losing the battle to stay awake.

"I'll be beside you, Quatre," Trowa bent down to kiss his lover on the cheek. "At your side…forever."

******

McKenzie frowned at the idiot standing to attention in front of him. "What exactly were your orders, Robertson?" The ex Oz soldier tapped his fingers impatiently on the side of his chair, his patience growing thin. "Well?"

"Watch Winner and report on his activities, sir."

"Exactly." McKenzie paused to allow his response to register, then continued. "Were we supposed to take him out?"

"No, sir."

Leaning forward across his desk, McKenzie made sure the barely disguised anger in his voice came across loud and clear. "Did I just hear 'no sir'?" The thin man fidgeted nervously with the zipper on his heavy jacket, before nodding.

Good. He didn't need idiots under his command with ideas of taking initiative. It had taken a long time to track Winner. In fact he'd only noticed the boy by chance while leafing through the L4 newspapers earlier that year.

Winner heir takes over running of family business. Very considerate of them to include a photo or he would have never made the connection between Quatre Raberba Winner and the Gundam pilot known as 04. After all it was rather paradoxical to even consider that the only son of a family well known for its pacifist beliefs would be piloting a Gundam during the war.

The silence in the room grew louder as McKenzie sat quietly, letting his thoughts wander onto the rather pleasant subject of what his plans were towards the slender blond pilot, while at the same time taking some degree of satisfaction watching Robertson squirm. Eventually he spoke. It was time to put the man out of his misery, quite literally. "You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Robertson saluted, attempting not very successfully to hide his relief. "Sorry, sir. It won't happen again, sir."

The door closed behind the other man, and McKenzie flipped a switch on his intercom. No, he thought. It won't happen again. "Wilkins, Robertson has become a liability. Deal with him."

"Yes, sir." Wilkins had been a good choice as his second in command - the other man had lost friends to these Gundam pilots, and had often voiced his belief that they deserved everything they got. He'd also testified on McKenzie's behalf when he'd lost his command after 04 and 02 had escaped and loosed that damn computer virus on their way out. His superiors hadn't been impressed with the months of lost work or the fact he'd let two pilots and their Gundams slip through his fingers. Luckily Wilkins had been the one who had found him after 04 had left his quarters, and hadn't commented on the way he'd been restrained. Next time he wouldn't fall for Winner's damn innocent act; there was no way he'd allow himself to be taken in by the fucking kid twice. [2]

McKenzie took a moment to relax, leaning back into his chair, before he let out a sigh of regret. Even though all his men had been hand picked for the task ahead, he couldn't allow the actions of one over zealous individual jeopardise his mission. His eyes lingered on the old newspaper cutting on his desk, while his fingers caressed the photo of the blond boy. "You Gundam pilots are certainly lookers," he repeated the same words he'd spoken to 04 all those months ago, remembering how soft the silky hair had felt under his fingers as he'd run his hands through it, how smooth the boy's skin had been to the touch.

Feeling a tremor of anticipation ripple through him, McKenzie forced himself back to the task at hand. No, Robertson hadn't been supposed to hurt Quatre Winner. Not when there were other, more satisfactory, ways of making the little bastard pay for what he'd done. No one made a fool of Isaac McKenzie without being shown the consequences.

He shifted his gaze onto a surveillance photo taken a few months previously of Winner with another boy the same age, and then allowed himself a small smile. Interesting how that same boy, Trowa Barton, had been almost glued to Winner's bedside since the 'accident.' The two of them had been meeting very regularly since the end of the war, and snippets of conversation overheard at the hospital had only served to confirm his suspicions as to their real relationship.

Robertson's actions had only delayed his plan, not prevented it. Luckily Winner would recover from his injuries. It was just a matter of waiting. After all, what was the point if the former Gundam pilot wasn't restored to good health first? It was important for him to be able to fully appreciate what was to come.

Chuckling, McKenzie decided that maybe this had all happened for the best. God helps those who help themselves. He now had an added unexpected bonus - 02 had been seen at the hospital, with two others he hadn't seen before. Together with Winner and Barton that made five. "Five Gundam pilots," he wondered aloud. It was too much of a coincidence not to warrant further investigation.

Everyone had a weakness; it was just a case of finding the right button to push, the correct key to turn. It never failed to amaze him how people would fold when you threatened someone they cared about. And Quatre Winner would be no different.

McKenzie shook his head sadly. Robertson had simply not understood. Winner had never been the target as such; he wasn't supposed to have been harmed in any way.

That privilege belonged to someone else. McKenzie smirked, as he picked up the photo of the two boys. He needed to be ready, once the time was right. Ready to introduce himself to his real target…

******

~Fin~

Notes this chapter:

[1] (Hamlet I.v.166) Paraphrased ever so slightly of course.

[2] - Refers to events which happened in an earlier story in the "Outlasting Time' arc called 'Missing Pieces,' which can be found here http://www.angelfire.com/ab7/shadesandechoes/missing1.html