Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Final Grade ❯ Chapter 12

Title: Final Grade

Chapter: 12/?

Warnings: Angst and hormones, shameless muse insertion (it wasn't my fault, I swear!)

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing, its characters, and its settings are not mine, nor am I making any money from this story. GW is copyright Bandai/Sunrise/etc. and is used without permission, for entertainment purposes only. Amir, however, *is* mine, and may *not* be used without my permission.

**Note: I'm going to be straying from the original Gundam Wing timeline for the rest of the fic. I don't know where, I don't know when, but it *will* happen. This is due to the fact that after the fanfic is done I'm going to be publishing it as a non-GW novel and I can't have it exactly like the series and Endless Waltz. Therefore, some changes will be made to the plot/timeline/etc. of Gundam Wing. Please note that these are deliberate and do not stem from ignorance on my part. There will also be the use of carefully thought-out original characters, also due to the future novelisation of this fanfiction. I'm aware the a lot of fans dislike OCs, but these, I assure you, are necessary and, I hope, will add to rather than detract from the story. Thank you.**

Coming to class early was starting to get annoying. Triton leaned against the door and waited to be noticed.

"I want you," Wufei murmured. He held Relena by her upper arms and crushed her against him.

"The feeling's mutual," the Queen murmured back. Her head fell back as Wufei started kissing her neck.

"I should move everything off of my desk, lay you down and---"

"I really hope you don't," Triton cut in. "I don't need to be traumatized." He started to his seat.

Relena grinned. "What? You think sex is . . . icky?" She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Triton snorted. "*Women* are icky. Sex *with* women . . ." He shuddered.

The young Queen laughed and sidled up to him, batting her eyelashes. "Oh, come now, how do you think you got here? It took sex with a woman."

"That doesn't mean *I* have to like it." The brunette stepped away from his Queen, glancing at Professor Chang. The man just smiled.

"Ooooh, kissy-kissy!" Relena stood on her toes and tried to kiss Triton. He yelped and held up his hands, darting away. The Queen followed, laughing as she teased him. "Come on, girls are cute! They're soft, and squishy, and---"

"I don't need to hear this! I don't want to hear this!" Triton covered his ears and made a disgusted face. "Professor Chang . . ."

His plea for help didn't go unanswered. Wufei stepped up and caught Relena in another embrace, nuzzling and kissing her neck. "Stop that, woman."

"Oh, psh. I was just having fun."

Triton cringed and rolled his eyes, sitting down. He was faintly surprised that he hadn't run into Ralph again on his way to first period. What had he been doing here yesterday? Maybe just seeing what the school was like. Still, it had been a shock. Not as much a shock as being woken up that morning by a small bundle of energy bouncing on his stomach, demanding every detail of his date, but a shock nonetheless.

Triton was still pondering Ralph when the class started and Wufei started talking about the Queen's politics. With said Queen sitting in his class. Triton glanced at the blonde, noting the smirk on her face. This would get interesting. His thoughts strayed from what his teacher was saying for a while longer, though.

"Peace isn't something you can be given! You need to fight for it, in any way you can."

Triton's gaze flickered over to Wufei and Relena, who were engaged in a heated conversation about her ideals and views. Honestly, what did that man see in her? There was nothing special about the other half of the human species. Bland looks, attitudes, periods, and so forth. It was just too much trouble. Men were much easier to please than women.

"Woman, do you honestly expect *everyone* to follow the Queen's ideals of peace? The way she goes around and talks about them tells me *she* does." Wufei crossed his arms across his chest and glowered to Relena. Triton's train of thought was shaken as he focused on their conversation.

"She doesn't expect them to, that's the point. Relena speaks out as much as she does to get them to follow what she says, but doesn't *make* the people do anything. If they follow her, fine and good. If they don't, she just works harder." Relena crossed her legs and then uncrossed them, smirking at Wufei's glare as she did so. She shot a glance to the class and then back to Wufei. Triton caught that glance and knew what she was getting at. So did Wufei, but he continued on.

"So she speaks out to get them to follow . . . yet what about those who are too stubborn? What then?" he quipped at her.

Triton snickered under his breath. *Women* were the stubborn ones. Sure, men were, too, but not as much. Then there were needs. 'Honey, I need this. Honey, I need that.' It was hard for Triton to keep a straight face when he pictured Wufei on his feet like a dog and doing Relena's bidding.

"And just *what* is *so* amusing, Mr. Bloom? Perhaps *you* have something to add to this conversation?"

Triton cringed at his teacher's icy voice and shook his head, his half-smirk fading quickly. "No, sir, I have nothing to add."

"Oh, but I would love to hear your views on this subject."

Wilting under the combined influence of Professor Chang's glare and the stares of the class, Triton frowned and chose his words carefully. "I think . . . that Absolute Pacifism is . . . almost impossible. I think that there will always be someone who wants to create conflict, for whatever reason. That's why the Preventers were formed, wasn't it?" He got a nod from both Professor Chang and Relena. "So . . . The Queen had to have *known* that her early ideals of Absolute Pacifism were unattainable, so I believe that now she's going for as much peace as possible, with the Preventers to deal with anyone who decides to start a major conflict." He paused and frowned, collecting his thoughts. "As for getting people to follow her . . . Well, Queen Relena has good ideas and she's good with people. If she didn't have one or the other, I think there would still be major wars popping up everywhere." He glanced at Relena, finding it odd and difficult to talk about her as if she wasn't really there, and was just another student.

As Wufei blinked at Triton, Relena grinned. "We won."

Triton, wisely, said nothing. He suspected there was going to be at *least* a heated discussion between his teacher and the Queen, however, once they were back at Quatre's. Quatre . . . Now *that* was an infuriating subject, and one that Triton preferred not to think about. Still, he couldn't get Quatre out of his mind. Those blue eyes haunted him, the older man's lips, his touch, everything. The young man found himself daydreaming about the man he was supposed to hate several times a day, and that in itself was enough to make him scream in frustration.

'And now I'm thinking about him. Wonderful. Just peachy. Oh, class with him next period! How perfect my life is. Ten credits says he stares at my ass when I leave the room. Too bad I don't have anyone to bet with; I'd be ten dollars richer.' Speaking of money . . . 'Crap, I need a job. Don't want to be dependant on Quatre Winner, now, do we?' The bell rang and Triton lingered until Wufei and Relena started getting mushy again, then walked as slowly as he could to psychology without being late.

"Mr. Chang got laid this weekend," Hilde informed Quatre.

"That's none of your business," Quatre told her.

"Sure it is. The class is getting better marks!" She and Duo laughed as Triton sat down in a huff, glaring at his desk.

"I'm starting the class now."

Triton barely paid attention to Quatre, or rather, what he was doing at the moment. He was torn between his need for a job and memories of soft touches, soft kisses. He was highly agitated by the time class ended and due to that dropped his open backpack as he stood to go, spilling all the contents.

"Droga!" He let voice to a few more blistering curses as he knelt, gathering his things. He looked up as Quatre also knelt and started helping him gather up papers. "I don't need help," he said acidly.

Quatre steadfastly ignored him, concentrating on the papers and books on the floor. He ignored the disgusted sigh and ignored the muttering in Triton's native language. He was probably being cursed at, anyway.

"There's such a thing as forgiveness, Triton," he finally murmured. "I don't demand it, and as of now I don't expect it. But I would ask it of you. I think I've paid in full for my mistake."

"*I* would ask that you leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you. You are my teacher and nothing else." He stood, zipping his bag and not meeting Quatre's gaze. "Excuse me, I need to get to class." He turned and headed out the door, stopping in his tracks for an instant when Quatre spoke again.

"I love you."

Triton left.

* * *

"Triton, where are you going?"

"To the library."

"May I come, please?"

The young man looked down at the small boy clinging to his skirt, beaming innocently up at him. "Well . . ."

"I'll be good, I promise! Father takes me to the library all the time." Amir's grin almost split his face in two, and that in and of itself was enough to make Triton wary.

"I'm not going to do anything but sit and read. It'll be boring. I don't think you'll like it."

"Uhm . . ." Amir looked down and nibbled his lower lip. "Uhm . . . I don't care. I want to go, anyway."

"What does your father say?"

"He said it was all right."

Triton nodded. "Fine. Come on." Amir took his hand and pulled him hurriedly out the door. The Queen and all the former Gundam pilots were grouped together at one end of the front porch, heads lowered and voices hushed. Triton paused and frowned.

Quatre looked up. "It's all right if he goes with you, Triton. Be good, Amir."

"Yes, Father," the child murmured solemnly, then dragged Triton off.

Quatre turned back to his friends and Queen once his son and Triton were gone. "All right, the house and grounds are completely secure."

Heero nodded. "Sylvia took Mariemaia to see a movie. We have a problem."

"No, really," Trowa muttered. "I thought we were going on a picnic."

Heero glared at him. "At approximately ten hundred this morning the old Dover Base blew up." Most everyone paled and Relena grabbed Wufei's hand as it rested on the table.

"C, casualties?"

"None. No one was there at the time. It appears a hurricane swept in, an F5, and ripped things up. That would have been fine, but it was preceded and followed by thunder and lightning storms. The lightning struck exposed power cables and they ignited the ammunition stores under the base."

Quatre flinched at the look on Relena's face. "*Ammunition* stores?! Why weren't they disposed of?!"

"Calm down," Heero ordered. "After Trowa attacked it, the Alliance took Dover out of active duty. When OZ took over, the paperwork concerning it was lost and OZ didn't consider it a threat. Without the paperwork, the Preventers didn't know anyone needed to be assigned to clear it out."

"All right, then clear it out. Why this meeting?"

"There's the possibility of people salvaging the ammunition, and we need to find any other bases that aren't disarmed or being supervised."

Quatre placed a comforting hand on Relena's shoulder as she drooped forward with a groan. "I don't *want* to . . ."

"Your Highness, you have to. We can't do anything without your permission, you know that."

"Sure you can, as long as I don't know or find out about it."

The Arab chuckled. "True, but you know about *this*."

"All right, then. Heero, you're in charge of making sure Dover Base and any other base we find is secure against the outside world. Duo, take inventory of what *was* there and what got destroyed. If anything comes up missing, find it. Quatre, you help with calming the public. We made a mistake, we admit it and we're doing everything we can to rectify it. Trowa, check for sudden activity on the black market and any known militaristic groups."

"What about me?" Wufei asked. He had stood and moved behind Relena, rubbing her shoulders.

"Mmm . . . Some bases might need to be personally checked on. You and Heero help do that." She covered his hands with her own and smiled up at him. "So how do you and Quatre deal with being Preventers *and* teachers?"

"Lots of migraine medicine," Wufei murmured. "Though after a day of teaching, I think I'd rather be on a mission."

The Queen nodded. "I don't think I could handle two jobs at once. Then again, being a Preventer is less stressful than being the Queen. How did I get roped into doing this, again?"

"I believe Romefeller made you Queen and it kind of stuck. The Earth and colonies voted unanimously for you to become Queen again after the Barton incident."

"I take offense at that, Winner."

Quatre snorted. "Face it, Trowa. Your family was bent on world domination and until you met the other pilots, you were, too."

"Stop it," Relena ordered. "You all have your assignments. Get to them."

"Winner and I need to find substitutes for our classes."

"Then do it. You don't have much longer in the school year, anyway. In fact, Quatre doesn't have to do anything but help me with public relations, and we can do that here, so he doesn't need to take time off from school. You may not need to, either. It depends on if Heero finds any bases we missed and when he finds them."

"Yes, Your Highness." Wufei proceeded to slip one arm under Relena's knees and pick her up.

"What are you doing, Wufei?"

"Her Royal Highness is too tense. She needs to be shown the ancient Chinese art of relaxation."

The young woman slid her arms around Wufei's neck and smiled slightly. "Oh? And what would *that* entail?"

"You're about to find out." Without even a nod to the others Wufei took himself and Relena into the house.

"Why do I get the feeling they're going to fuck?" Trowa wondered, then yelped and ducked when Heero went after him. "Make love! Make love! I meant make love!"

Quatre and Duo laughed. "Probably because they are," the American snickered, then hid behind Quatre when Heero turned on *him*. "You wouldn't hurt your ex-lover to get to *me*, would you?"

"Of course not. I'd cut your hair off while you slept."

Quatre sighed. "Look, I have papers to grade, an eight-year-old hyper-active asthmatic son who thinks I should marry Triton to deal with, my feelings for Triton to deal with, and Triton himself to deal with. I need a report on the damage so I can get to work on sorting my life out."

"Triton's a bitch, Quatre," Duo stated. "You've apologized for what happened a thousand times. Most everyone has *told* him you didn't know he was drunk. You been nothing but apologetic and nice to him ever since. Triton liked you before and I'd bet my braid he still does, but he's really insecure. Doesn't excuse him being a bitch, but hey, fair's fair. He's an emotional fuck-up who's playing with *your* emotions, and he knows *damn* well that that's *exactly* what he's doing."

Quatre looked away. "Duo . . . I love Triton. You know that."

"And he hasn't done one damned thing to *earn* that love."

"That doesn't matter. Heero didn't do anything to earn my love, either, but I still love *him*. Triton just needs some time to himself."

"You realize he seeks you out at times, gets deliberately touchy-feely and then gets pissed because of it?"

"Duo, we both have things to do. This can wait." Quatre stood to go. He didn't want to talk about this at all.

"No, we talk *now*. You're avoiding this and you know that's not good." Duo pushed Quatre back down and sat in his lap, effectively preventing the other man from leaving. "Now, about Triton. I don't like him. He was all right until he started being a bitch. Now he just needs to be smacked, to get it through his head that the universe does *not* revolve around him, and that he's wrong to keep blaming you for that night. Which *I* think he knows he is, by the way. He just doesn't want to admit it. He's looking for a bad guy to blame all his problems on and you're it, sexy."

"I can see that, Duo. *Why* me, though?"

"Think for a moment, stupid. He was never one for touchy-feely-ness, then you came along and you two got pretty damned touchy-feely. That had to tweak him out. Then you slept with him, and while he may have been all right with it had he not been drunk, he *was* drunk and therefore got pissed. You were the nearest target, as well as the person he'd slept with."

"You're saying he wouldn't be as mad if I'd left before he woke up?"

"Not at all. He'd be even more pissed that you didn't stick around." Duo rolled his eyes. "Triton was a flaming queen waiting to happen. *I* gave him the excuse to be a queen. *You* gave him the excuse to be flaming."

Quatre looked away, knowing that what Duo said was true. "And I've been letting him get away with it, hoping that he'd come around."

"Now you're getting it." Duo stretched, popping his back. "By the way, did you tell Triton that Amir has asthma?"

Quatre groaned. "No, I didn't. I forgot that not everyone knows."

"Damn. There's another reason for him to be a bitch. Ah, well. So, all you have to do now is stop spoiling him. I wouldn't recommend touching him, either, though I noticed you stopped doing that. *That* pissed him off, too."

"He's hard to please," the Arab noted absently. "Duo, you're heavy. Get off."

"Oh, *can* I?"

With a short laugh Quatre stood, dumping the young man out of his lap. "We have work to do."

"Relena can tell us to do it when Wufei lets her go."

"She already told us to do it."

Duo made a face. "Yeah, yeah, work calls. Bah." He muttered all the way into the house, demanding money and sexual favors for the pain he was going to go through in inventorying every single bullet at Dover Base. Quatre just rolled his eyes and silently asked Allah for strength.

* * *

Amir was being quiet. Too quiet. Triton peeked over the top of his book and frowned to note that Amir was quietly coloring at the small table in front of the couches for people to read on. He leaned forward a bit, making sure that the child was coloring on the paper he'd been given, *not* on the table itself. No, he was drawing on the paper. With a shrug Triton sat back and returned his attention to his book.

"Why don't you love Father?"

'This is why you never question even the most minor of miracles,' Triton thought sourly. He sighed. "Because I don't."

"Did you used to?"

"No."

"You acted like it."

The Latin man bit back his temper. "It's not that simple, Amir. Whatever I felt for your father went away when . . . when . . ."

"When you two had sex? Why? Why did anything have to change?"

"Because I was drunk, Amir. That's the only reason I slept with your father. Now go back to drawing, or talk about something else. This isn't the right topic of conversation for a six-year-old and nineteen-year-old to be having."

"I'm *eight*," Amir corrected tersely.

"Whatever. Eight. Fine. You're small for your age. My mistake."

"Oh. Well, tomorrow is Show-And-Tell day at school. Father said that I can go to public school while I stay with him. I wanted to bring you to show them Father's boyfriend, but Father said you weren't his boyfriend, that you had school, too, and that it wasn't appropriate to bring you to Show-And-Tell. So I'm going to bring the camel that Mariemaia gave me for my birthday. I named him Triton, after you. Triton Tara Winner. Tara is my middle name. It means 'the shining one' in some language."

Triton just nodded absently to everything Amir said. The child's talk was boring but ignorable. He sighed and set his book down after a while, picking up the current newspaper and turning to the help wanted section. It was boring and tedious, and he almost preferred Amir's chatter.

"Looking for a job?" Both Triton and Amir jumped and turned around. Ralph raised both eyebrows and sighed, shaking his head. "I'll cough next time to get your attention." He smirked and sat next to Triton.

"Who are *you*?"

"Be nice, Amir. This is Ralph."

The small boy got up and stood in front of Ralph, looking him up and down. "You look like Uncle Heero. Are you related to him?"

Ralph snorted. "Hardly. I'm an only child. What's your name, kid?"

"My name's Amir Tara Winner. How do you know Triton?"

"Is he *always* this rude and pushy?" Ralph asked softly.

"Not always this rude, but always this pushy."

"Ah. Well, I met Triton a few days ago here at the library."

"Were you the one he went on a date with?"

Ralph laughed, nodding. "That would be me."

Triton intervened before Amir could start screaming. "Yes, I'm looking for a job. Why?" He picked Amir up and held the boy in his lap, one hand warningly over the child's mouth. He hoped Amir didn't bite him.

"Well, I'm looking for someone to model for me. I think you'd be perfect for it."

Triton thought a moment, holding a struggling Amir. ". . . What sort of modeling? Nude?"

"I wouldn't be able to work, seeing you in the nude." Ralph grinned at Triton's flush. "No, whatever you're comfortable with. You might want to let the kid go. He's turning red."

Amir *was* turning red, but not from lack of air as Triton had feared. He was just angry at being held down with a hand over his mouth. "I'm letting you go, but go to the children's section and read."

"I'm telling Father!" Amir said angrily as he stormed off. "You're gonna be in trouble, Ralph!"

Triton groaned and started to apologize, but Ralph held up a hand. "Bah, it's all right. He's just a kid. Annoying, but still just a kid. So, about this job . . . Interested?"

"It depends," Triton said slowly. "I've never modeled before."

"Well, all you'd need do is just hold still. You can do that, I'm sure." Ralph grinned. "You seem too shy to do full nudity, so whatever you were comfortable with would be fine. Though my muse has been on a Greco-Roman kick lately . . ." Ralph made a face. "He's a nasty muse."

Triton laughed softly. "You personally know your muse?"

"Of course I do. He smacks me with ideas all the time."

"Really. Does he have a name?"

"Yep. Yaten. He's a mean, abusive muse who gives too many great ideas at once and demands I work on them all, at once. Then there's his too-short attention span." Ralph shrugged. "But Yaten-muse is better than no muse, so."

"You're so weird," the Latin man murmured, shaking his head. "What would you be paying me?"

"Let's see . . . I'm not sure. Twenty-five or more credits a session. Of course, we could always negotiate the price over lunch or dinner."

Triton chuckled and shook his head again. "You realize that if I start working for you, I can't go out with you anymore?"

"Why not? I don't have anyone else modeling for me, so it wouldn't be favoring you over them."

"I really doubt it's right, though."

Ralph smiled broadly. "It wouldn't be like we were dating or anything."

He had a point, though . . . 'I think I might *like* dating him.' Triton sighed. "I'm not sure I'd be good at modeling."

"Why not give it a try? One week, that's all I ask."

"Well . . ." Triton sighed and gave in. "All right. One week."

"Can we still negotiate your pay over dinner?"

"You're impossible," Triton muttered. He looked up as Amir rushed over, opening his mouth to tell the boy to not run in the library. The look on Amir's face, however, made him stop. "Amir? What's wrong?" Shaking his head and gasping for breath, the child dove for the small purse he'd taken with him to the library, digging through it. Triton knelt by him, eyes wide. "Amir, do you need help?"

Amir shook his head and wheezed some more, finally pulling out an inhaler. He held it to his mouth and pressed the top down, breathing in deeply once or twice before crawling into Triton's lap. After a few more deep breaths his hands dropped and his head fell against Triton's shoulder. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Triton held him, raising worried eyes to Ralph.

"Asthma," the taller man noted, picking up the inhaler. "He's breathing all right now. You didn't know?"

Triton shook his head. "No. His father never told me." He gently stroked Amir's hair, looking back down at the small boy. The child's eyes were closed, his face pale but regaining its color. "Poor thing . . ."

"I'm sorry, Miss Triton," Amir whispered. "I forgot to tell you. Everyone knows." He opened his eyes and looked up at Triton, for once without a smile on his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"Don't be," Triton murmured, kissing his forehead gently. "You knew what to do and you didn't panic. That's good."

Amir nodded. "Can we go home, now? Please? I'm tired."

"Of course," Triton said, picking up Amir's purse and his own as he stood. Amir rested his head on the young man's shoulder, arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, Ralph, but we---"

"No problem." Ralph patted Amir's back. "You stay well, kid. You can stop by my place tomorrow, if you're not busy," he added to Triton.

"Where do you live?"

"The old theatre next to the college. It's been abandoned for years, so I bought it." He grinned at Triton's disbelieving look. "No, really, I did. I'll see you tomorrow, all right? Let's say . . . eight?"

"Right." Triton turned and walked out of the library, getting Amir settled in the front seat of his car. As they headed back to Quatre's he pursed his lips. Quatre hadn't bothered to tell him that Amir had asthma. Damn that man!

"I'm sorry, Miss Triton," the small child whispered. He was staring so forlornly out the side window that Triton didn't have the heart to correct the boy on his gender.

"It's . . . it wasn't your fault, Amir."

"But now you'll be mad at Father."

"Your father should have told me."

"But . . . but . . . but he *forgot*! And I know what to do when I have an attack, and I always bring my inhaler with me, and, and . . ."

"Amir," Triton said, very gently, "that's not the point. I'm glad that you know what to do and always have your inhaler. The point is, is that Quatre should have let me know that you have asthma so I wouldn't freak out if you had an attack while alone with me. Which you did."

"But you didn't get scared! You didn't do anything wrong and neither did Father and now you're going to hate him even more and you might leave us!"

Triton pulled to the side of the road and stopped the car, turning in his seat to stare at Amir. "Amir . . ." There were tears rolling down the boy's face as his lower lip trembled violently. He didn't blink and didn't make a sound, trying very, very hard to be brave. The young man sighed and unbuckled, leaning over to hug the child tightly. "Amir, I'm not leaving, because I don't have anywhere to *go*. I don't even have a job. And . . . and what I feel about your father . . ." Was utterly and completely unfair. Triton knew that, but every time he thought about that night it brought up so many emotions, emotions that Triton didn't *want* to feel. He didn't *want* to be angry but he couldn't help it at all. He tried to be nice to Quatre, he did. He just couldn't. Every time he opened his mouth something mean or snide came out. Triton bit back his own tears as Amir held tightly to him and cried silently.

"Shh, shh, Amir, please don't cry. I'm not going anywhere and I . . . I don't *like* your father but I don't . . . I don't *hate* him. If I hated him then I wouldn't have moved in with you two."

"Then, do you promise not to leave?"

"I can't promise that, Amir," Triton murmured. "But I can and *do* promise that I will never leave because I'm mad at you. Is that all right?"

The small child frowned and considered Triton's offer. "What about if you get mad at Father?"

"Well, I . . . I, I . . . Amir, I don't want to talk about this. This conversation is over *now*." He resettled himself in the driver seat and started the car again.

"But, Miss Triton, what if you get mad---"

"*Amir*." Triton's sharp tone made the boy wince. "Stop it *now*."

"But why *not*?"

"Because it's not something I'm sure of and I don't want to talk about it. I don't even want to *think* about it, all right?" He was snapping at the child and could see Amir's face twist up in a scowl out of the corner of his eye.

"Fine! I don't love you anymore! You're mean!" Amir turned away in a huff and glared out the window, baring his teeth at his reflection.

"That's nice." The young man ignored Amir for the rest of the ride. He'd learned how to deal with unruly children by babysitting the younger members of the circus. 'Don't put up with any crap and be nice while you're telling them to shove it.' That made him crack a smile and he shook his head. Suddenly he froze, almost driving into the back of a car as a horrible thought hit him. 'Oh, meu Dues, James was in charge of the children when he was with the circus . . . Was I the *only* child he was . . . was molesting?!' He swallowed sharply and started shaking. 'Oh, shit. No no no, Triton. Hold on, back up. It was risky enough molesting *me* because the circus is such a close-knit community. Everyone knew everyone, everyone was friends. He was running a huge risk, doing what he did to me and me alone. And he was smart. There's no *way* he could have been molesting another child.' Triton had convinced himself that James hadn't touched another child at the circus by the time he and Amir got back to Quatre's.

"*Father*! Triton was mean to meeeeeeeeee!" Amir bounced out of the car and threw himself into Quatre's arms, tattling on Triton.

'After all, there were lots of times he almost got caught with me. He wouldn't have risked it with another child.' Satisfied with what he was telling himself, Triton rolled his eyes at Quatre's curious look and shook his head as he walked up the steps. Sylvia was lounging on them and grinned up at him.

"Hey, darlin'. C'mere. I've got a few questions about that author you recommended."

Quatre watched Triton stretch out next to Sylvia as he held Amir. The young man seemed completely at ease as he and Sylvia talked. 'Well, they're talking about a common interest . . .' But still, it felt wonderful to watch Triton, to see him, if not happy, at least content. The colony lighting had dimmed to late afternoon, casting a soft light on everything. The Arab smiled as he leaned back in his chair. He nodded to himself. He had the feeling that things would be all right. Triton may not like him now but the young man didn't refuse to be near him, so Quatre took that as a good sign.

"Father, it's time to go pray . . ."

"So it is," Quatre nodded. They stood and went to pray. After they were done Quatre sent Amir to play in his room and then graded papers for a while. It was almost time for dinner when he opened the door to his rooms, meeting Triton's narrowed eyes. He blinked a bit and stepped back, startled. "Triton---"

"Islam forbids homosexuality and same-sex relations," Triton cut him off.

Quatre's eyes went wide and he nodded. "Yes, the Qur'an says that."

"Then how can you be bisexual, or a practicing bisexual, and be Muslim? If your God says that it's a mortal sin and that you'll be punished horribly for it, and that true Muslims don't engage in homosexual practices, aren't you being rather hypocritical?" It was said inquisitively, though it carried dangerous undertones.

'Great, another reason for him to be pissed at me.' Quatre sighed. "I know full well what the Qur'an and Allah have to say about homosexuals, Triton. I don't need a recap." The Arab sighed. "Come in and we'll talk about it." Without looking back to see if Triton was following him, Quatre turned and walked back into his room, sitting on the couch and stretching his legs out. When Triton sat he took a deep breath. "Technically, going strictly by the Qur'an, yes, I'm committing a grievious sin by having sex with men. By not repenting and continuing to have sex with men, I'm in big trouble. However . . . However, I think that Allah despises homosexuality, but loves love. If two women, or two men, love each other, then . . . then it sort of balances out. I believe that Allah is not too *happy* with it, but tolerates it as long as the two people are in love."

Triton snorted. "And what if they're not?"

"Then it's a double sin, and wrong."

"So having sex with someone of the same gender is all right if they're in love, but if they're not, then it's a big no-no."

Quatre bit back the retort that rose to his lips, nodding.

"And what of unwilling sexual relations?"

"Rape is always wrong."

"And what of having sex with someone who isn't completely aware of their actions?"

He'd known where this was heading. Quatre closed his eyes tightly and took a deep, calming breath. "I've almost never done anything you haven't wanted me to do, Triton. I've stopped every time you've wanted me to, and on the rare occasions that I *have* managed to do something you didn't want, I've apologized profusely."

Triton idly flicked his bang as he leaned back in an armchair, crossing his long legs. "So Allah doesn't like homosexuality, or sleeping with one's own gender, but He says it's all right if the two love each other? That seems to me to be highly hypocritical of Him."

Quatre opened his eyes and narrowed them at Triton, angry. "Do *not* insult my God, Mr. Bloom. I respect *your* God, and I would demand that you show respect for mine, as well as my religion. Insult *me* all you want. Do *not* insult Allah."

"What God of mine? Did I ever say I believed in that crap?" Triton leaned forward, fire in his eyes.

Quatre had the feeling that he'd said the wrong thing at the wrong time. "*Do* you?"

"Does it *sound* like I do? If there's a God, or an Allah, or a Goddess, why the hell did They let war happen? Why the hell did They let James touch me? Why did They let him fuck me? Put his hands on me?! If there's a God or a Goddess and They're so damned perfect, *why* *did* *They* *let* *that* *happen*?!"

"I don't know. We were given free will, to do as we please. Some make bad decisions, some do bad things. If Allah killed everyone who sinned willingly and didn't repent there wouldn't be enough people to populate the world for an extended amount of time." Quatre stood and paced. "I don't know why Allah does what He does, and I don't try to second-guess Him. It's not worth it. It's not *possible*.

Quatre sat down, gaze never leaving Triton's angry face. Cathrine had told him what had happened to Triton, and Triton himself had said that he was "just like James." Quatre had assumed that James had been the one molesting the young man, but this proved it. The Arab leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, one hand covering his mouth as he watched Triton. Both were still though, Triton's emotions boiled just under the surface. The tension was horrible. Finally Quatre sighed and leaned back.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I could go on about free will and Allah's plan for each of us, our purpose being alive, but I don't think anything I say could satisfy your question. I don't question Allah's ways but I've never been in this situation before."

Tears filled Triton's eyes as Quatre's words dispelled the tension in the room. He slumped his shoulder, hyperventilating, trying to keep the tears down and to stay in control. He had an urge to fling himself into Quatre's arms and be held by the man that was so strong he actually swayed toward him, then caught himself and turned. Triton fled the room, hands clasped tightly over his mouth to keep the sobs inside.

'I'm a boy, damn it! Boys don't cry!' He ran outside and to his car, frantic to get away from that house, away from the man he wanted--- '*No*! *I* *don't* *want* *him*! I *don't*! I can't want him. I can't want him. I don't. That's impossible.' With tears running down his cheeks Triton drove, stopping in front of the library. He couldn't go in the library looking like he did, and why had he come here? Triton turned the car around and headed to the park he'd gone to before. He got out then ran to about the center, flinging himself onto a small rise in the ground and doing his damnedest to not cry. It wasn't working very well. Triton had lain there for an undeterminable amount of time when he noticed someone sitting calmly next to him. He gasped and sat up quickly, almost falling over.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," Triton whispered shakily, wiping at his face. He turned away from Ralph, ashamed of being caught in such a state.

"Do you want to talk about what's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough. After all, we don't know each other that well. I just don't like seeing tears from someone as beautiful as you." The older man leaned back on his arms, crossing his ankles. He tilted his head back, gazing up at the 'sky'.

Triton was silent, cautiously watching Ralph out of the corner of his eye. The man next to him was wearing black slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt with the first few buttons undone. His red tie hung loosely around his neck.

"No Renaissance clothing today?" Maybe making small talk would take his mind off of the situation at Quatre's.

"No. I had an art exhibition today. Formal type stuff." Ralph made a slight grimace. "Not that I *mind* particularly, because I look great in formal clothing."

"*What*?" Triton turned his face toward his companion, eyes wide with disbelief. "Have you no modesty?"

"What?" Ralph tilted his head to the side. "It's true. I *do* look great in formal clothing."

"That's not the point. I mean, maybe you *do* look great, but openly admitting it? Almost *bragging* about it?"

The Asian man laughed. "It's not lack of modesty . . . Well, all right, so it's a lack of modesty, but I prefer to think of it as having a very healthy self-image. I know that I look good and I'm not going to deny it or hide it at all." He grinned and leaned to the side, toward Triton and tugged at the young man's bang gently. "Besides, it's funny when you get all flustered like that. The red of your cheeks makes your eyes stand out. You're very attractive, you know."

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"*That*!"

"That what?"

Triton scowled and stood. "I'm not staying here if you're going to make fun of me." He started to leave but stopped when Ralph sat up and took his hand. The young man stopped and turned back to Ralph in one movement, eyes wide and mouth open in a little 'o' of surprise.

"I'm not making fun of you, Triton. I'm flirting with you. And I'm telling the truth. Maybe I was coming on too strong; I'm sorry if I was. But I *wasn't* making fun of you at all." His head tilted to the side. "I shouldn't have started flirting when you're so distressed. I'll stop. Please sit down again?"

"Well . . ." In a huff, Triton flopped back down, drawing his knees up to his chest and holding them there.

"You're flashing the park."

"Fuck." The young man straightened his legs and smoothed his skirt out. It was black and went to mid-thigh when he was standing. The short-sleeved shirt he wore was a belly-shirt, white with black lettering and hems.

"What's your shirt say?"

"What? Oh. Brat."

"In Portuguese?"

"Yeah." Triton sighed.

"So, how did you manage to get such a variety of clothing to wear?"

The young man rolled his eyes. "Cathrine --- my sister --- bought some, I bought some, and a lot was donated by several girls who work for the circus. Mainly the trapeze girls. They had some weird obsession with seeing me in drag." He shrugged. "And most of it was Mama's."

"Your mother must have been tall."

Triton smiled with sad fondness and nodded as he lay back against the small hill, staring up at the artificial sky. "She was. You'd think that the woman would be the small one and the man would be the tall one, but with Mama and Papa it was the exact opposite. Papa wasn't *that* much smaller than Mama, but it was enough of a difference for it to be funny." He could see Ralph nod out of the corner of his eye and then frowned. "I don't like the colonies."

"Pardon? Why not?"

"The sky." Triton waved his hand upward. "It's not real. It's too closed in. On Earth everything's so open, and you don't have to worry about something crashing into the side of it and killing everyone. Well, meteors don't particularly count."

"How often do you go to the earth?"

"I was with the circus. We went everywhere. Except for the past year. We've been here for almost a year."

"Why?"

The young man bit his lower lip. "The ringmaster," he said softly. "He has cancer and was getting treatment for it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is he going to survive?"

"We think. We hope."

"Good. You know, I think you'll be a wonderful model. You can hold almost perfectly still and it's all natural. It doesn't look faked at all. You pose naturally."

Triton's cheeks colored and he shrugged. "I'm not *trying* to pose . . ."

"I know; that's why I said you naturally pose."

Triton frowned to keep from smiling. "Are you flirting with me again? You said you'd stop."

"True," Ralph nodded, leaning in closer to Triton. "But I think you like it. I don't think you *want* me to stop."

"There's that ego again," Triton muttered, pushing half-playfully against Ralph. "Go away. You're bothering me." He turned away, leaning on his side and away from Ralph.

"And you're flirting back. Really, you shouldn't encourage me. I have a hard enough time not flirting as it is."

Triton laughed softly and looked over his shoulder. "I'm not flirting back," he protested mildly.

"Yes, you are. Trust me."

"Maybe you just *want* me to be flirting back."

"Wishful thinking or no, you're flirting."

"I am *not*!"

"You are *too*!"

"*No*!" Triton was laughing and his face was red, he was sure of it. "I don't flirt. You're mistaken, good sir."

Ralph grinned and played along. "Oh, I think not, my merry gentleman. My ears doth not decieve me when I hear flirting."

"Mayhap, sir, it is your mind that doth deceive you into thinking that what you are hearing is flirting, when in fact it is not."

"Oh no, I think it is *yourself* who is mistaken, for my ears doth never deceive me, nor does my mind. I do know flirting when I see it, and you, sir, are flirting. I pay the utmost attention to attractive people and their actions."

"Really?" Triton closed his eyes. "Then what color, pray tell, are my eyes?"

"They are a deep emerald green with tawny orange around the pupils, yet they are not solid green, they have a rather stone-ish appearance to them, and they are a darker green around the edges."

Triton opened his eyes and blinked at Ralph, rather dumbfounded. Ralph started laughing. "You . . ."

"I told you, dear sir, that I pay attention to attractive people. And you *are* an attractive person, make no mistake about it."

"I'm not attractive, I tell you!" Triton nearly shouted, flustered. "Now thtop making fun of me!"

Ralph's eyes widened and he started chuckling. "Thtop? Thtop? Do I hear a lithp?"

"No! I don't have a lithp! Lisp! I don't lisp!" Triton turned red and sat up, scooting away from the man beside him.

"Really? You don't have a lithp at all?"

"I sthwear I'll sthmack you if you keep making fun of me." The young man sulked, glaring at Ralph out of the corner of his eye.

Ralph just laughed some more. "Oh, come on. It's cute."

Triton rolled his eyes. "Cute is *not* what I want to be!"

"Why? You're girly enough."

"I'm *not* *girly*!"

That brought on more laughter from his companion. "Oh, yes, you are. Trust me, you're girly."

"Look," Triton snapped, "I thtayed here becauth you thaid you'd thtop making fun of me, but you haven't! You've made *more* fun of me than before!"

"Like I said, I've been flirting with you. Hasn't anyone ever flirted with you before?"

"No." Quatre had flirted with him. "Once."

"No? Once? Which is it?"

"Oneth! Damn it! *Once*! Look, are you done? I'd like to leave."

"Sure, I can be done." Ralph stood when Triton did.

"Thank you. Goodbye." The young man turned and took four steps before he realized that Ralph was following him. He stopped and clenched his hands at his sides, staring up as he tried to control his temper. "*What* are you doing?" he asked with forced casualness.

"Following you."

"*Why*? What do you *want*?"

"Another date would be nice."

"Why? Why? *Why*?! What have I done to warrant you following me around, teasing me incessantly, then having the nerve to ask me out again?!"

"Flirting, flirting, not teasing."

"Whatever!"

Ralph chuckled softly. "I like you, Triton. You're attractive---"

"And I suppose that's *all* you see in me, in *anyone*."

"--- most of the time you're polite, you exude sensuality whether you know it or not, and you've got this vulnerability around you that I like. You're a *very* complex person, a mystery, and I like mysteries."

Triton sighed hugely. "I'm not that special, you know."

"I'd like to judge that for myself. Now, look, I'm really sorry for upsetting you. I am, truly." Ralph walked to the front of Triton and bowed deeply from the waist. "May I make it up to you, please?"

". . . How?" The young man shifted, a little uncomfortable.

A slow grin spread across his companion's face. "How about we go to a cafe and get something to eat?"

Triton laughed softly. "You're impossible."

"I try. Is that a yes?"

After a moment's hesitation Triton nodded. "That's a yes."