Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Final Grade ❯ Chapter 1

Title: Final Grade
Chapter: 1/?
Archive: If you want, e-mail me
E-mail/feedback: Yes, SailorZoisite@gundamwing.org
Disclaimers: Gundam Wing and all characters associated with it is not mine, nor am I making any money from this. This is purely for my personal enjoyment, and the enjoyment of the people who read this. GW is copyright Bandai, Sunrise, etc.
Warnings: Tangy-lime-ishness due to rampant author hormones, cross-dressing Triton

"And ever since Queen Relena came to power, global conflicts have been nearly eradicated, and the use of war weapons is a practice only found in the history books. In all of her twenty-five years of life, only ten of them have been spent ruling over Earth and the colonies, but in those ten years, Queen Relena has accomplished more than any other human all throughout history."

A tentative hand raised. "Professor Chang . . ."

"Yes, Mr. Bloom?"

The young man stood up. "Professor, there have been rumors that Queen Relena's methods of bringing about peace are somewhat . . . less than natural. I'm not saying that there's any such thing as demons or magic, but a lot of people are of that opinion." He sat quickly.

Wufei smiled at the smart young man's question. "Maybe so, Mr. Bloom. A lot of us have heard those rumors; rumors of Queen Relena controlling an army of demons, sorcerers and such. Who knows for sure? Or maybe it's the fact that mankind has matured enough for peace."

Triton shook his head. "It's hard to believe, though, that after thousands of years of fighting, and it is human nature to fight and conquer, that we've suddenly grown up enough to realize that violence isn't the answer. That one young woman would be able to bring about that maturity."

The bell rang, saving Wufei from having to answer that difficult question. "Well, perhaps one day you will be able to ask Her Highness that question yourself. Good day, everyone."

The students filed out of the classroom, leaving the Chinese man to prepare for his next class. Triton was the last to leave, a faint frown on his face. He wasn't all that worried that the Queen might be using magic to keep the Earth and colonies under her control and peaceful. Triton had never seen anything that would cause him to believe in the existence of magic in all his nineteen years, and he wasn't about to start believing in it just because a few people around campus talked of it. He walked into his next class, as usual the first student to arrive. He was getting out his human psychology book when the teacher entered.

"Mr. Bloom, don't you have any friends to talk with between classes?"

"No, sir." Triton took out his notes and set them beside his book.

"None at all?"

"No, sir." He sat down and looked at the daily schedule on the board, then opened his book to the right page as his teacher sat on the desk beside him.

Quatre Winner tilted his head to the side. "Nineteen, freshman in college, very attractive, no friends. You're single as well, I take it?"

Triton nodded as he started reading over the chapter. Gender differences. Interesting.

"That doesn't make sense, young man. You're very popular with the ladies and some of the young men, you realize."

That made Triton pause. "No, I hadn't." People . . . liked him? He couldn't imagine why. He seldom spoke and never made any sort of advance to anyone, not even to say hello. Yet here his psychology teacher was telling him that people found him attractive.

"Well, from the way you get stared at, they do. I suppose it's that aura of mystery about you. Silent, brooding, attractive. A very appealing combination." Quatre leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his cupped hands as he watched his student carefully.

Triton stopped reading and thought for a moment. Was Mr. Winner . . . coming on to him? Triton had never had anyone flirt with him that he could actually identify as flirting, but he was sure it happened once in a while. He was rather oblivious to the world of romance, so it was hard to tell. The emerald-eyed young man looked up, frowning slightly. "Mr. Winner . . ." It was also rumored that the young teacher before him took lovers of both genders.

Quatre smiled and stood up as more students came in. "Good, you recognize flirting. However, in the interest of keeping my job, I think it would be best if I stopped." He moved to the front of the room as the final bell rang. "Class, settle down. It's only second period." Groans met that remark. Quatre smiled again. "Yes, only second. Please, open your books to page three hundred thirty-four. We're starting a new chapter, on gender differences." He raised his hand as the class broke into laughter. "Calm down, please. Yes, this chapter includes your favorite subject, sex. However, we are not going to be discussing the actual act of sex. Rather, we will be discussing and exploring how the two sexes differ, and how their roles in society differ as a result."

"Dammit, Maxwell, I can get laid by way more girls than you could!" The whole class shut up and turned to stare at the speaker of that loud comment, and Hilde Schbeiker tried to sink into the floor as her partner laughed. "Erm, well, it's true!"

Quatre just shook his head. "Yes, Miss Schbeiker, I'm sure it is. Please, compare sex lives after class, you two."

"Yes, sir," both students murmured, glaring at each other playfully out of the corners of their eyes.

Quatre sighed and went back to his lecture. "In this unit, you will learn more about the opposite . . . gender . . . and will be required to do a project to demonstrate your knowledge of that gender."

"I nominate Triton to dress up like a girl!" Duo Maxwell shouted out, winking at the boy in the front row.

Triton didn't say anything as the whole class erupted in agreement. Maxwell considered it his school-year-long goal to get Triton to dress in drag. True, men dressing as women was far more accepted and practiced now than, say, in the late twentieth century, but Duo had made it his personal mission to get Triton into it.

Quatre tilted his head at the young man. "Mr. Bloom?" Triton looked up. "The whole class is in agreement, it would seem. Do you mind that as your project? This will be the final project of the year, you all realize."

Triton thought for a moment. Would Cathrine throw a fit? Probably not, if he told her it was for his final grade for the year. With the circus or not, his older sister had told him that if he didn't go to college and get good grades, she'd tan his hide permanently. He nodded. "I don't mind."

Duo jumped up and did a little victory dance and song as Quatre nodded. "Very well. Good luck." He glanced at Duo. "You'll need it. Mr. Maxwell, would you like to spend time after school today? Maybe cleaning desks in utter silence?"

Duo shut up and grinned. "No, sir." He sat quickly, still chuckling softly.

"I didn't think so. Everyone, you have until Friday to get your projects approved. You start next week. Now, if I may turn your attention to the chapter, we can begin."

Triton took notes dutifully and thought about what he'd gotten into. True, he didn't mind dressing up as a girl for school, but he had no idea how to go about it. He'd have to get clothes, because Cathrine's were too small. He would also have to act like one, apparently. The bell rang, startling Triton out of his thoughts. He packed up slowly, waiting for everyone else to leave before heading to his next class.

Quatre came over and leaned against his desk. "You know, Mr. Bloom, you don't have to dress up. No one's forcing you to. There are any number of other projects you could choose."

"I don't mind, sir. I just . . . don't know how."

"Don't know how? To be a girl, you mean?" Triton nodded. "Do you have any siblings?"

"A sister."

"Then it should be a little easier. Just look at her and the girls around you every day and learn to imitate their mannerisms and attitudes. If you need extra help, I have a few sisters. I could get you in touch with them, if you wanted." Quatre leaned toward Triton, watching him.

"Thank you, sir. I don't think I'll need your sisters' help, but I'll keep it in mind." Triton got up and headed to the door.

"You do that. Oh, and Triton . . ." He turned and Quatre winked at him. "Have fun." Triton nodded once and left, leaving Quatre alone with his thoughts. It was his prep time, and he had all period to think about Triton Bloom. Damn, that boy was a sex bomb. It was a pity he seemed completely asexual, though, and a double pity that Quatre was his teacher. Still, it would be interesting to see how he fared with his project. Quatre sat at his desk and leaned back in the chair, propping his feet on the mahogany desktop. He was betting that Triton would make one hell of a good-looking girl, and would probably make all the other girls jealous in the process.

The young noble-turned-teacher pursed his lips. He wanted his student, had wanted him since the boy had set foot in his classroom. He'd let slip a little of his attraction today, but wasn't too worried that Triton would report him to the school administrators. The young man hadn't seemed to know how to react to his teacher's flirting and had appeared to be about to ask him if he was or not, leading Quatre to suspect that the brown-haired boy was almost totally oblivious to both his sexual appeal and any flirting thrown his way. The young Winner shook his head and chuckled. All those girls and boys vying for his attention didn't stand a chance. Triton Bloom wouldn't know a come-on if it bit him on his pretty little ass, unless he was consciously making the effort to look for one.

Quatre sighed and leaned his head back. He didn't know if he would be able to take seeing Triton in a skirt for very long. He hadn't had a lover in a while, but now it looked like he might have to take one, if only to keep himself reasonably sane. Maybe he'd call Heero up and see how his old friend was doing with his job of protecting the Queen. They'd had a pretty good relationship going after the war and in college, ending it only because their careers took them away from each other for too long. Heero was a bodyguard for the highest ranking people, and Quatre was the heir to the Winner family fortune and taught on the side. Their new lifestyles had totally contradicted one another, and the two young men had decided to call it off before they both got hurt. Quatre smiled. Yes, he'd call Heero. And hope the Japanese man would be able to help.

* * *

Triton covered his face. When he'd told Cathrine what he had to do for his final grade, he'd expected her to be a little upset about her brother dressing up as a woman, or maybe just shrug it off and make a few suggestions. What he hadn't expected was for his older sister to throw herself enthusiastically into the project, teaching him how to do his make-up and hair, how to dress, what to wear for the most effect, and how to act like a girl.

"Come on, Triton, try this skirt on."

"'Neesan, it's too short." Triton backed away from the offending article of clothing as if it would bite him.

Cathrine shook her head and sighed. "No it's not, Triton, trust me. It's just fine. You'll look great in it! Now hurry, you'll be late for school."

"Uhm, Cathrine, our school has a uniform---"

"Don't give me that school uniform crap, Triton. Since when are tight jeans and a loose turtleneck an official school uniform? Now put the damned skirt on and let me fix your hair!"

Triton meekly took the skirt and went into the bathroom to put it on. He had to wiggle his hips to get it over them, and tugged at the material when it was on. It was awfully short and left his long legs exposed. "Crap," he muttered. "Why'd she make me wear women's underwear, too?"

"Triton! Hurry!"

"Cathrine, it's really short. I don't like it!" Triton opened the door slightly and peeked out. "Not at all."

Cathrine smiled and beckoned him out. "Come on, Triton. It's for your grade, remember? Why did you choose this project if you didn't like it? Come on, sit down."

Triton walked out and sat quickly, tugging the skirt down as it crept up his legs. "I didn't. Duo Maxwell did. What are you doing?"

"Your hair. Why did you agree, then?" She took out some rollers and a curling iron.

"I didn't think it would be like this." He winced as she started tugging. "Cathrine, that hurts."

"Hush, girly. Beauty is pain." Cathrine snickered as she worked. "Besides, with the way you keep your hair cut, I don't have much to do." She worked in silence for a while, then pat her brother on the shoulder. "All right, let's let that sit for a bit. Now, you need breasts."

"N, nanio?!" Triton's eyes widened and he started to get up, but Cathrine pushed him back down. "Breasts?!"

"Yes, breasts. All girls have them, Triton. If you're going to be a convincing girl, then you need them, too. Don't worry, love." She pulled out a bra with built-in breasts in it and Triton gulped.

"C-Cathrine . . . that's awfully big . . ." He would have to wear that all day?

Cathrine laughed. "Once you get a shirt on they won't seem as large. They're about right for your size. Now, give me your arm. You're going to have to learn how to do this yourself, you know." She put the bra on and snapped it, then knelt in front of Triton and prodded at it.

"Cathrine!" Triton crossed his arms over his new chest, embarrassed. His face felt hot, very, very hot. "Stop that!"

Cathrine rolled her eyes. "Triton, sit still. Do you want lumpy breasts?" She pried his arms away and went back to adjusting him, then sat back. "That looks good. Put this on." She handed him a button-up blouse, white with ivory buttons. Triton just looked at her. "Triton . . ."

"All right, all right." Triton slid it on, wriggling uncomfortably in his bra. "I'm going to look horrible." He buttoned it up and then sat still as Cathrine applied make-up carefully.

"You're looking great, Triton. That skirt and blouse combo goes well with your complexion." She sat back and smiled. "Perfect. Now for your hair."

"Didn't you already do it?"

"The curlers need to come out, Triton."

"Oh."

Cathrine chuckled and undid his hair, letting it fall down. "Wow. Without that bang, Triton, you look really good. Not that you weren't a traffic-stopper before, but now . . ." She ran her fingers gently through the mass, patting and shaping, then covered Triton's eyes before spraying on hair spray. "This'll keep it still so it won't fall out during the day. There." Cathrine stood up and brushed her knees off. "Put your shoes and socks on." Once Triton did, she pulled him up. "Come on, Triton, let's see how you look."

Triton let his sister lead him to the full-length mirror, where he promptly looked behind him to see where the beautiful young woman standing before him was. Cathrine laughed softly as it dawned on her brother that the girl in the mirror was, in fact, him, and he stepped forward to take a closer look.

His hair was in slender spiral curls that framed his face. Long legs with slender hips were covered by a loose, forest green plaid skirt that ended about six inches above his knees with matching shoes and white knee socks, and the white blouse that ended just above his skirt's top with ivory buttons. Cathrine took his hands and buttoned the shirt cuffs, then smoothed the pleated skirt down around his hips. Triton looked in the mirror once again, raising his hand to gently touch his pale pink lips, then his pinkish cheeks. He closed one eye then the other, looking at the green and brown eyeshadow, then touched his eyelashes.

"You didn't really need mascara, but it helps a bit. Damn, why is it that guys are the ones who have the beautiful, long, thick eyelashes?" Cathrine sighed, then handed Triton a small book bag. "Here. Take this, it goes better with your outfit. Everything's in it, now go! Have fun!"

Triton nodded and headed out, ignoring the hoots and catcalls from the circus men as he walked to his car. Damn them, anyway. Triton pulled out, waving to Cathrine, then headed to school. His chest was uncomfortable, and the underwear he had on was uncomfortable, too. So was the skirt. Why did girls wear these outfits if they were so hard to wear? Triton didn't know. For all of Cathrine's worrying about him being late, he was half an hour early. Good, that gave him time to see Mr. Winner about his outfit. Maybe his teacher would call Cathrine and tell her to let him wear something longer. He sighed and got out of the car, leaning back in to get his bag. Bad idea. As he bent over, his skirt went up. Triton stood hastily as he tugged it down, then bent from the knees to retrieve his books and such. His face was red and he thanked whatever God there was that no one had seen that embarrassing moment. The young Latin man walked to his psych class swiftly, avoiding all the much-used pathways. Opening the door and looking around, he spotted Quatre at his desk, going over some paperwork, and cleared his throat delicately.

Quatre sighed and rubbed his eyes, and was about to go back over the paper in front of him when someone cleared their throat. He looked up sharply, barely keeping his jaw from hitting the floor as his eyes fell upon one of the most beautiful young women he'd ever seen in his life. 'God, I think I'm in lust.' She looked down and shifted her feet, biting her lower lip in a gesture that was an agonizing mixture of innocence and sexuality. Quatre swallowed several times, then cleared his throat as he remembered his manners. "Y, yes? May I help you, ma'am?" Was this a new student? Why hadn't he been informed?

The girl glanced up and blinked at him. "I'm . . . here for class."

"Ah." Quatre opened his roll book. "You're new, I assume. I wasn't told. What's your name, Miss?" He smiled at her, eyes aching to crawl over her voluptuous body.

The girl gave him an odd look. "Mr. Winner . . . It's Triton Bloom."

Quatre's jaw did drop this time, and he let his eyes wander Triton's new body in amazement. "T-Triton . . . Bloom?" The young girl nodded. 'Oh, God, save me. I was wrong. I was so wrong. There is no way I'm going to survive the next eight weeks, no way at all.' He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from the green-eyed boy, fighting to control his racing pulse. "Ah, Mr. Bloom . . . You look . . . wonderful. Perfect. I didn't recognize you at all, I'm sorry. I should have, but you look . . . just . . . fantastic." 'Shut up, Quatre! Shut up! Don't you dare say another word, Winner. You want to lose your job?!' He shook his head and blinked, not daring to look at the young man walking toward him.

"Really? It's very uncomfortable." Triton shifted his shoulders, trying to get the straps in a comfortable position. He stopped right in front of the desk, cheeks a little red.

Quatre waved his hand in a circle. "Turn around, let me see." Triton did as he was told, pausing with his back to Quatre. The older man bit his lip and clenched his hands tightly as he fought the urge to run his hands up those long, slender legs and find out if his suspicion that Triton was wearing women's underwear, too, was correct. And was that ass as firm as it looked? "Keep . . . turning . . ." He was getting breathless and almost fell out of his chair when Triton turned to face him again, green eyes closed. That gave Quatre the opportunity to stare all he wanted at his student, and he admired the form that was so utterly feminine, yet so completely masculine. 'God, I'm never going to survive this.' He stood and walked around his desk, lifting Triton's head up to look the boy in the eye. "You look perfect, Mr. Bloom." 'And I want you badly.'

Triton's eyes widened minutely at the look on his teacher's face and he blushed even more. Only one person had looked at him like that, and had ended up raping him for nine years. He bit his lower lip again and looked to the side, face still red. "Th, thank you, sir." Oh, God, Mr. Winner wouldn't hurt him, would he? Triton suddenly thought that this project had been a very bad idea, indeed, and he longed to be back at the circus with Cathrine. His heart started racing as he wondered if he was fast and strong enough to get away from the man in front of him, then jumped as Quatre's thumb moved along his lower lip. He sucked it into his mouth and looked at his teacher, faintly surprised to note that he was taller than the Arab man. The Arab man who was moving his thumb over Triton's mouth until his lower lip was pulled free from his teeth, and who continued to stroke it gently, eyes filled to the brim with lust. Triton shifted nervously. "Mr. Winner . . ."

Quatre took that opportunity to slide his thumb into Triton's mouth gently, running the tip of it over the young man's teeth as he rapidly lost the ability to think. 'Not good, Quatre. Not good. You should stop, you know. You really should.' The conversational voice was ignored as Triton bit at his thumb gently, eyes filling with a mixture of confusion and desire. 'Good, he can feel lust.' Quatre leaned forward, bringing his lips closer to Triton's.

Triton's eyes were wide as Quatre touched him, heart pounding as he tried to decide if he liked what his teacher was doing or not. Either way it scared him, and as Quatre leaned forward Triton pulled his head back slightly, fear entering his eyes. 'No, please, don't. Don't, Mr. Winner, please don't.' He kept quiet, though. He'd learned to be silent and let people take what they wanted from him long ago.

Quatre stopped as he saw the fear come into Triton's emerald eyes, then stepped back abruptly and turned away. Someone had hurt Triton, hurt him bad. Quatre suspected rape, and in the recent past, too. "Mr. Bloom . . ." He gripped his desk tightly and lowered his head, trying to regain his breath. "I'm sorry. I'm . . . I'm sorry." He didn't look up as he heard Triton shift behind him, concentrating on staying where he was and not all over the beauty named Triton Bloom. "You need to leave, Mr. Bloom. Please. I . . . I can't . . . Just leave. Now." He gulped and trembled. "Now!"

Triton didn't need to be told again. He turned and left the room as quickly as he could without running, leaving Quatre behind to pound on his desk with frustration.

"Dammit! Damn you, Triton Bloom! Why the hell are you so enticing?!"

"Lusting after a student?"

Quatre's head jerked up and he whipped around, then relaxed slightly at the sight of Heero Yuy standing in the doorway. "Badly. Very, very badly."

"Hn. Tell me." Heero walked down the stairs and sat on Quatre's desk, leaning forward as his piercing blue eyes searched Quatre's blue-green ones.

Quatre gulped and covered his face as he sat in his chair. "I want one of my students. Ever since I first saw him, I've wanted him. We're doing a section on gender differences for the final trimester, and Duo, he's in this class, kindly volunteered Triton for dressing as a woman for his project. He just left, maybe you passed him."

"I passed a young woman, but not a young man." Heero examined his fingernails as Quatre laughed softly.

"If 'she' was wearing a dark green plaid skirt and had legs up to her neck, then that was Triton Bloom."

"Hair in spiral curls?"

"That's him."

"Shit." Heero got up and walked around the room, eyes scanning everywhere. "That was a boy?"

Quatre nodded. "One of the most beautiful young men I've ever met. Unfortunately, he's also one of the most unavailable young men I've ever met, as well."

The young bodyguard looked out a window. "He won't be your student next year, will he?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

Quatre rolled his eyes at Heero's blunt attitude. Some things never changed. "I think he may have been molested within the past five years."

Heero stopped pacing and came back over to where Quatre sat, leaning against the desk. "Molested?"

"Yes, molested. Raped. Sexually abused. Need I go on?" The blond man rubbed at his eyes.

"How do you know?"

"I . . . tried to kiss him."

Heero snorted. "That's going to lose you your job, though I see why you would. What happened, exactly?"

Quatre nibbled on his lower lip gently. "Well, he came in to show me the outfit, I guess. It startled me; I didn't recognize him at all, and it was instant lust. I thought maybe it was a new student, then he told me it was him. Oh, God, Heero, it was pure torture. I've never wanted anyone so much in my life." He covered his face with his hands and groaned softly. "So, I made him turn around and show me the entire outfit. He looked down, then I tilted his head up and told him exactly how he looked. He was . . . it was . . . I couldn't help it. I touched his mouth, then tried to kiss him."

"And?"

"And?" Quatre laughed shortly. "And then he got scared. Fear just filled his eyes. He didn't say anything, either, just stood there and leaned his head back a bit."

"Ah." Heero sat on the desk and glanced at his watch. "Did he want you?"

"You mean, was me touching him turning him on? Yes. God, Heero, I feel like a pedophile. What am I supposed to say to him now?" Quatre got up and started pacing as the ten-minute bell rang.

Heero shrugged. "Try the truth. You want him."

"Heero, I can't do that! That boy was terrified of me! He looked like he expected me to rape him, and he wasn't about to do anything about it!"

Heero raised a hand to calm his friend. "Students are coming in, be quiet." He crossed his arms over his chest and thought for a bit. "I can't help you. All I say is stay away from him, which is impossible since he's your student. Tell him to wear more clothes. This is why you called me, isn't it?"

Quatre sat in his chair with a thump and nodded. "Yeah, it is." He raised his eyes to the nearly filled room. "Class, please take out your books and turn to wherever we left off at. I'll be with you in a moment." He turned back to Heero as his statement sunk in. "What?"

"I'm getting married."

Quatre blinked. "When? To whom? Why?"

"We don't know yet, Sylvia Noventa, because I love her." Heero glared at Quatre as if daring the blond to call his bluff.

Quatre blinked again. "All . . . right . . . Ah, well, congratulations, Heero. I hope I'm invited to the wedding."

Heero smirked. "Oh, you are. That reminds me, Relena's taking a vacation soon." There was a look in Heero's eyes that Quatre didn't like very much.

"Oh?" He had a feeling he knew where this was headed.

"She needs a place to stay."

"Heero, not with me! What can I offer the Queen of the World?" Quatre buried his head in his hands.

"A place to be herself for a month or so. That's all she needs."

Quatre eyed Heero warily. "Something tells me Her Highness doesn't know about her upcoming vacation."

A shrug. "A minor technicality."

"And that she doesn't want to take a break."

"It will be good for her."

"Heero, you're going to kidnap the person you're protecting, just to make her take a break?!"

Heero smirked as he stood up. "Class is starting, Mr. Winner. I'll call you later." He slid a pair of sunglasses on and walked out.

"Asshole," Quatre muttered, then smiled to himself. "Still, he's got a good heart. Hey! Settle down, children!" He grinned at the outrage that comment caused, then proceeded to try to pound some psychology into the thick heads of his students.

* * *

'I don't want to go to second period,' Triton thought glumly, picking up his bag as the bell rang. He didn't want to face Mr. Winner after what had happened before school. He didn't want to admit that he'd been enjoying what his teacher had been doing until the blond had tried to kiss him, didn't want to go back to the memories he'd tried so hard to block out. Unfortunately for the troubled young man, he either went to class or flunked, and flunking wasn't an option. He sighed again and walked to class, ignoring the hoots and offers tossed his way. Once there, he hesitated before opening the door. 'What if he does that again? What do I do? What if I ask him to stop and he doesn't?'

"Mr. Bloom?"

Triton's head jerked up, eyes widening as he realized Mr. Winner was standing in front of him and had been calling his name for a while. "Y, yes, s-sir?" he stammered, trying to calm his racing heart.

Quatre held the door open. "Please, come in. I'd like to talk with you before the other students come."

'I'm in trouble.' Triton walked into the class and went to his desk, not looking at Quatre as he set his bag down with shaking hands.

"About this morning . . ." Quatre leaned against the desk beside Triton's, looking at his hands.

Triton raised his eyes slightly. "Yes?" Did he want a repeat performance?

"What I did . . . was wrong. Totally unprofessional. Not to mention it scared you, and that's not a good thing. I just wanted to apologize for it, and I promise, it won't happen again." The Arab bit his lip and sighed. "I'm sorry."

" . . . Sorry?" Was Triton hearing this right? "You're . . . sorry?"

"Well, yes. As a teacher, as your teacher, I have the responsibility to keep my hormones under control and to keep a professional relationship with all my students. Seducing a student isn't keeping a very professional relationship, don't you think?" Quatre glanced up as Duo was dragged in by Hilde.

"No! Hilde, I don't wanna go!"

"Shut up, Maxwell. You're going to all your classes today!"

"But Hiiiiilllllde . . ."

Triton looked back down, tugging at his skirt. " . . . No . . . But . . ."

"But what? Triton, someone hurt you, and recently, too. I see it in your eyes, in the way you act. I'd like to help, if I can. Look, class is starting. If you want to talk some more I'll be here after school. All right?" Quatre stood up.

Triton nibbled his lower lip gently, then remembered he was wearing lipstick and stopped. "Yes, sir." He folded his hands in his lap as Mr. Winner walked to the front of the room, staring at his desk. He wanted to help? How could he? Why should he? Quatre Winner barely knew him, so why did he want to help him? Triton didn't know, but he could think of several reasons, none of which boded well for the unibanged youth.

The class passed without event, unless one counted Hilde proving that she could beat the crap out of Duo. Other than that, class was normal. When the bell rang Triton picked up his bag, then froze as a hand gripped his rear firmly.

"Hey, sexy," Duo murmured. "How's it hangin'?"

Triton's heart pounded in his chest and he gulped, turning his head slightly to meet Duo's laughing blue-violet eyes. "Let go," he whispered.

Duo tilted his head to the side and shrugged, dropping his hand. "Yah, sure. Just joking, man." He meeped as Hilde came over and tugged him away by the braid, leaving Triton to shake behind him. This was a bad idea. He should go home and change right now. Triton started to leave when a gentle voiced stopped him.

"He didn't mean anything, Triton. You know how Duo flirts. I'll talk with him about it, if you want me to."

The green-eyed boy gulped. "Please, Mr. Winner, I don't need your help. I'm just fine." 'Please buy that, please . . .'

Quatre snorted as he shuffled papers on his desk. "I highly doubt that, Triton. You're a quiet person, but even the quietest people I know smile once in a while. You never do. You walk around all day with a 'please-don't-hurt-me-I-only-want-to-be-loved-but-everyone-hurts-me' look about you, and if anyone gets too close you shut them out completely. I've watched you do it." Quatre sat down and leaned forward, staring at his student's turned back. "Not everyone is out to hurt you, Triton. You'll find that if you open up, most people will care about you. I know I do." That was the truth, as watered-down a version of it that Quatre could make. He cared about Triton.

Every word hit home with a sharp jab and Triton bowed his head against the physical ache in his chest that Quatre's words created. How did his teacher know so much about him? Or was he just guessing? "Good day, Mr. Winner," he said quietly, then walked out.

* * *

"That's all you said?"

"Yes."

"And then he left."

"Yes. Look, Heero, why are you so curious about this? I mean, it's not really any of your business."

Heero just looked at Quatre. "It is if I make it my business." He toyed with a rose. "Besides, I'm your friend. I want to help."

The young blond man lowered his head and snorted. "I doubt you could, short of finding out Triton's past, and only Triton knows it all." He looked up sharply as Heero muttered something, glaring at the Japanese man. "Don't you dare, Heero."

"Dare what?"

"You leave Triton alone. Don't talk to him, don't go near him. You'll scare him."

Heero considered this, then nodded. "As you wish." He smelled the rose, a faint smile on his lips.

"God, Heero Yuy in love. This is truly a scary sight, you know. I'm terrified." Quatre smiled at his friend, who snorted.

"You should see me around Sylvia, then."

"Don't tell me you have a pet name for her." Quatre didn't know if he could handle Heero calling anyone 'Sugar,' or 'Sweetie,' or even 'Dear.' It was too un-Heero.

"Maybe." Heero glanced at his watch, then out a window.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Sylvia."

"Ah." Quatre stretched, arching his back and cracking his neck. "I'm tired. And the day's not even half over."

"Hn. Sylvia's here." Heero walked to the door. "Good bye."

Quatre stuck his tongue out at the closing door. "Yeah, yeah. 'Bye, Heero." He sat back, then pulled up a search engine on his computer. "Search: Birth records. Search within results . . . I'll try Earth, first. Hmm . . . Search by date born, he's nineteen . . . Does the circus register births? It should. Ah, search . . . what's the name of, oh yeah . . . search AC 186 . . . Last name Bloom. Here we are. AC 186, Triton Bloom born to Mr. Juan and Mrs. Rosa Bloom, older sister Cathrine. Parents died AC 192 in mobile suit attack, children raised by the circus." The chatter of a room full of students broke through Quatre's concentration and he saved the page quickly, then turned and smiled at his class. "Good morning, students."