Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Helios ❯ Chapter 1

Helios

By Misanagi

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: Violence, sap.

Parings: 3x4

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Trowa and Quatre spend some time together in the company of a new found friend.

Timeline: Six years after Endless Waltz.

Archive: http://www.psinergy.com/dryerspace/gundaniumline/misanagi/misanagi.html

Feedback: Very much appreciated. misanagi_zzz@hotmail.com

Notes: This is a prize fic for Anne who won one of my Lyric Challenges at LJ. Arcada, don't kill me, yours is in the 'to write' list but it will take some time.

Thanks and big hugs to Anne, for beta reading this fic.

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As the mid morning sun shined lazily behind a puffy white cloud and a soft wind moved the leaves on the floor, a lone figure leaned against a dirty wall. He was hidden by the shadows produced by the buildings surrounding the alley, and was standing so still that only a person looking for him would have been able to see him.

Despite the sun that illuminated the city, the alley was dark. The tall and dirty walls closed the tiny space that already looked full with the boxes and the big trash container resting near the far wall. The alley appeared to be another world, completely separated from the bright city. The figure was standing right between the border of reality and illusion.

He was tall. Broad shoulders and strong arms could be seen behind the black long sleeve shirt he wore. Dark blue jeans covered the long legs and hung loosely around his hips. His eyes were concealed behind a pair of sunglasses and they were scanning the surroundings, aware of every detail.

* * *

Trowa looked at his watch, his hand brushing the hair the wind insisted on getting in his face. The minutes appeared to be passing slowly and every moment seemed to be stretched to make the wait even longer. Waiting wasn't one of his preferable pastimes. In fact he hated waiting, although only a few knew that. He always seemed so cool and collected that people just assumed that he was okay with it, but inside, Trowa Barton was desperate. With every minute, his fingers itched to move but he wouldn't let them, his legs asked to walk but he stayed still, his body pleaded with him to release a sigh of desperation but he wouldn't let it pass his lips.

He was a controlled man. He had learnt since he was very young that being able to control body language and facial expressions was something crucial in the difficult war times they were facing. Of course, a part of his brain was constantly reminding him that the war was over and that it was time to let go of the old ways. Still, he found himself again and again in situations that required his old habits and those were the very things keeping him alive.

Still, he didn't regret his decision to join the Preventers a couple of years after the war was over. He and Quatre had been living a quiet life, or as quiet as it could be when your lover is the CEO of one of the biggest companies on Earth and the colonies. However, they had soon found that that type of life wasn't for them. Quatre was becoming frustrated in his desk job and feeling trapped by all the executives and different people he had to deal with on a daily basis. He had always been a perfect gentleman, polite and gracious, but the blond used his courteous ways in the same way Trowa used his controlled temperament. It was a mask and a mask can only stay on for so long.

While Quatre felt that he was confined to a life that really wasn't for him, Trowa was feeling restless. He had tried many things after the war;- going back to the circus, getting a job, school - but had finally settled with Quatre because at least that way, he would be with the person he loved. But even though their love for each other was deep, it couldn't help the fact that they both felt like they were living borrowed lives. They were soldiers, they had lived through experiences a normal person was spared from, but they had fought and inevitably been conditioned to do that in the future. Trowa still had hopes that after some time, they would be able to settle down but that wouldn't be happening soon.

Trowa lowered his eyes to look at the time again. It had been 4 minutes and thirty four seconds since the last time he had felt the need to do that. Where was Quatre anyway? He was late and it wasn't like Quatre to be late for anything.

For a moment, Trowa's brain started to run free. Thousands of different scenarios, none having a good ending, appeared in his mind. If Trowa could be able to glare at himself he would have. Instead, he banished the unwelcome thoughts from his mind and reminded himself of just who Quatre Winner really was and what he was capable of.

Just then, as if it had been planned by a higher power, Trowa saw from the corner of his eye, something falling from the roof of the five storey building in the back. It landed right in the trash container. The noise of crushed cardboard was followed by some papers falling out of the container, and the mewing of a cat.

Trowa wasted no time and only seconds later he was leaning into the trash container, trying to find out what exactly had happened.

The reason of all the commotion was lying on top of some smashed cardboard boxes and Chinese leftovers. He was wearing dark pants and a navy blue shirt. His eyes were closed and he was moaning as he rubbed the back of his head with his hands. Beside him, a small beige kitten with golden stripes and yellow eyes was looking at the man with curiosity.

Before Trowa could say anything, the kitten moved closer to the man and happily licked his cheek.

Quatre opened his eyes quickly and sat up in a rush. A hiss followed his actions and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to control the pain. The kitten walked slowly to Quatre's lap and sat there.

"I hope you have a good explanation for the dive you just took," said Trowa, glaring daggers at his lover.

Quatre took a deep breath before he focused his eyes on Trowa, giving him a small smile. "It was necessary."

"That's not a valid answer, Quatre," said Trowa as he put his hands in the border of the container and rested his chin on top of them. "Are you alright?"

The blond slowly nodded. "Yeah, my head landed a little more roughly than I would like but I'm fine."

Trowa was still not amused. He kept looking at Quatre and he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to hug him or kill him right then. "You were lucky. If it wasn't for all those Chinese leftovers you are currently wearing in your hair, you would be dead."

"Give me some credit, Trowa. I did think about it before I jumped."

Trowa raised one eyebrow. Quatre could be a fairly good strategist but he wasn't really known for thinking about himself.

"Stop glaring and help me, Trowa." Quatre moved his hands from behind his head and rested them on top of the kitten that was mewing and looking at him. "You are cute," he said to the kitten and scratched him behind his ears.

As lovely as the scene of Quatre smiling and petting a kitten was, Trowa was busier looking at Quatre's hands and controlling the anger that threatened to explode inside of him. He gave a polite cough and gestured toward Quatre's hands. "Would you mind explaining why, in heavens name, you are wearing handcuffs?" The tone was even and polite. Trowa could see a shiver run through Quatre. That tone always scared his lover because it let him know that he was in trouble.

Quatre raised his eyes from the kitten and smiled innocently at Trowa.

"Don't even try it, Cat. I want the whole explanation, not the sugary version I know you are planning on giving me." After all the years together, Trowa could read Quatre like an open book. He knew his lover too well to be fooled by the façade he used with everyone else. Trowa was worried. Quatre was his lover, his life, and he had the nasty habit of getting himself caught up in dangerous situations and then lying about it. Who did he think he was fooling, anyway? Trowa could clearly see all the signs in Quatre's body: the ruffled hair, the shirt torn at the elbows, the handcuffs with the bruised wrist that showed that he had been in a struggle, and the purple mark already appearing on his chin. Quatre had left the day before to go on a simple routine mission. It wasn't supposed to be complicated at all for someone with his skills but there was enough evidence to conclude that something had gone wrong.

Quatre sighed and lowered his eyes. "Alright but not now. They are still after me so it would be better if we go to the pick up place now. I'll tell you what happened once we get there."

Trowa nodded and grabbed one of Quatre's hands with his own and helped him up. He heard the blond hiss and he quickly looked at him, wanting to know what was wrong. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw Quatre glaring at the kitten that was currently hanging with its little nails from Quatre's shirt.

"I think he wants to go with us," said the blond while he tried to get the cat off his already torn shirt. "You are cute," he stated, looking at the kitten he was holding centimeters away from his face. "But you are dangerous too."

Trowa chuckled but didn't voice the fact that he thought exactly the same of a certain blond who used to pilot a Gundam named Sandrock. Instead, he reached for the kitten and examined it. "It's a she," he said simply.

"How do you know that?" Quatre asked while he used his hands to get as much trash off himself as he could.

"I have extensive experience with cats," Trowa replied and winked at his lover.

Quatre smiled and after getting his foot out of a pizza box, he maneuvered to get out of the container with his hands still cuffed. The blond managed to climb out before he landed ungracefully on the floor. He sighed and looked up at Trowa. "You could have helped me, you know."

Trowa's lip curved a little and he reached down to help Quatre get up. "I'm still mad at you."

The blond ran his hands through his hair and smiled seductively at Trowa. "I bet you can find better ways to punish me," he said, smirking at his lover.

"You know," replied Trowa, smiling smugly. "That line has better effect when you don't have shrimp toast hanging from your shirt." Quatre pouted. "But I'll be willing to ignore the smell since you look so nice with those handcuffs on."

Quatre glared at him. "You try running above five different buildings and jumping from one of them with nothing more that a sore bottom to show for it. Then you can complain about my smell." Trowa knew that if it weren't for the handcuffs, Quatre would be crossing his arms in front of his chest to finish his patented indignant pose. But since he couldn't, the effect of the glare was lost and the blond looked like a brat instead of a dangerous former terrorist.

Trowa smirked more. "I think I'm going to leave the handcuffs on, they suit you."

Quatre diverted his eyes from Trowa's and hung his head as he muttered something.

"Huh?" asked Trowa, looking at Quatre in curiosity.

"It's not like -" The rest of the sentence was lost in another moment of grumbling.

Even if Trowa was starting to get annoyed, he decided to stay silent. He unconsciously petted the kitten and waited patiently for Quatre to repeat himself. He knew words weren't needed and Quatre would talk when he was ready.

Blue-green eyes were suddenly trained on him again and Quatre spoke loud and clearly. "It's not like you can take them off anyway," he said, gesturing to the handcuffs with his head. "Don't you think I would have tried it already? They are jammed."

Trowa's eyes widened. "Explain."

"One of them discovered my lock picks and broke one inside the locking mechanism. Now they won't open."

Trowa knew he should be mad about it. He knew that someone had dared do something like that to his lover and that meant that he should promise to take revenge or something similar. Those thoughts were running in one of the deeper levels of his brain but on the surface, all he could think was that Quatre was handcuffed and there was nothing the blond could do about it. He knew that a mischievous smile was appearing on his face and but he didn't even tried to hide it.

"I knew you would find this funny," accused Quatre, trying his best to look hurt and failing miserably.

"Not funny," clarified Trowa, "amusing."

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Let's go. You can amuse yourself more when we get to the pick up point."

"Is that a promise?"

Quatre took Trowa by the hand. "Come on, you can tease me mercilessly later."

Trowa smiled and nodded. He would be sure to do that, among other things.

* * *

The pickup point was an abandoned wharehouse a couple of blocks away from the alley. It wasn't really big but it was the perfect place to wait for nighttime when they could leave, in the cover of the shadows.

The sun was setting and a few orange rays could be seen through one of the high windows. They only had to wait for a couple more hours before they could go.

"Are you going to tell me what happened now, Cat?"

Quatre was sitting in front of Trowa, leaning on the wall. His knees were against his chest and his cuffed hands were around them. His chin was resting above his knees and he was looking at Trowa from behind his blond bangs. "I guess so," he said, after he sighed.

Trowa crossed his legs and waited for Quatre to begin his explanation. Not a second later he felt the kitty climb on top of his lap and settle her small figure in Trowa's hands.

"Everything was going well. I got inside the compound without problems and managed to hack into the central computer and retrieve the information." Quatre paused for a moment. "It was very easy, I should have listened to my instincts and known that not even a mission as simple as this, could be that easy."

Trowa took one hand from below the kitty and brushed the hair in front of Quatre's eyes. "As much as you wish you could be, nobody is perfect, Cat. We all make mistakes."

"Well I had help this time," said Quatre. The politeness in his voice didn't hide the fact that he was ready to inflict some physical harm on someone. "Peña was a traitor."

Trowa's eyes widened. José Peña had been working with the Preventers for almost a year and he was the one appointed to go under cover on that mission. He had been the supplier of all the data. The mission Quatre had left for the day before had been planned according to that. If Peña was a traitor, Quatre had been in more danger that he had let on.

"They cornered me while I was getting out," Quatre continued. "Peña played the part of the hostage and I fell for it like any beginner. I should have known better." He was angry, Trowa could tell but he wasn't angry at Peña as Trowa had first though. Quatre was angry at himself.

"Cat, you couldn't -"

"No, Trowa," interrupted the blond, raising his chin from his knees and stretching his legs. "You know as well as I do that /I/ should have been able to detect something like that but I failed."

The kitten jumped from Trowa's hand and walked to Quatre. She slowly climbed on his lap and licked his hand twice before closing her eyes and settling down for a nap. Quatre smiled. "Anyway, as soon as I surrendered, Peña pulled out a gun and trained it on me. That's about it. They threw me in a cell, this other guy put on the handcuffs and after a while I climbed out using the vent, got to the roof and ran to the meeting point." Quatre shrugged. "Nothing special."

Trowa knew that Quatre wasn't telling him everything but he could tell that the blond was upset, and decided to wait. He could always pry for more information later. "You smell," he said, effectively changing the topic.

Quatre glared at Trowa. "You say that one more time and I swear you won't be smelling any part of me for over a month."

Trowa chuckled. He got up, gently pushed Quatre away from the wall and sat behind him. His arms were put around his lover and then, Trowa slowly pulled the blond to him. Quatre's head was soon resting on Trowa's chest. He grinned and threw his head back to look at Trowa smiling above him.

"If your stuck up PR people could see you now, they would have a heart attack," said Trowa, while his finger softly traced the bruise already forming on Quatre's chin.

"Good thing they don't have to worry about that anymore," commented Quatre, who was entertaining himself by blowing Trowa's bangs off his face.

"Still, I can just see the headlines. 'The multibillionaire and respected former CEO of Winner Enterprises, Quatre Raberba Winner, was spotted today sweaty, wearing rags, and hanging with a circus run away and a stray cat. We still are searching for the reasons behind this outrageous behavi-"

As much as Trowa loved Quatre, he didn't appreciate the blond taking one of Trowa's bangs and jamming it right into his mouth to shut him up. Quatre, on the other hand appeared to be really amused. His eyes were shining with that mischievous glint Trowa knew so well. Quatre was in a playful mood.

Trowa glared and spit the hair out of his mouth, letting it fall on Quatre's forehead. "That wasn't funny."

Quatre smiled even wider. "You started it," he said. With one swift movement, the blond got up and stood as straight as he could in front of Trowa, his chin raised high and his shoulders back. "Besides, you said I didn't look good."

Trowa recognized the tone Quatre was using. It was the one he used when he was talking business and he was sure that he was going to win. As much as Trowa wanted to keep teasing his lover, he had to admit, even if it was only to himself, that Quatre looked good. Behind all the dirt, the oily hair and the tiredness in his eyes, Quatre was still stunning. There was no way to hide the person he was and Trowa could see that then. They way he stood, moved his hands and even looked at him, was a fateful testimony of the noble in Quatre who couldn't be hidden.

"I've seen better," said Trowa, in a bored tone that he was sure fooled no one.

Quatre moved before Trowa saw what he was doing. He blinked and the next thing he knew, Quatre was on top of him. The blond had him pinned to the floor, his knees restraining Trowa's legs and his cuffed hands pressing down on Trowa's chest.

Quatre was looking at him from above. His face was only inches away from Trowa's and if he moved a little lower, his blond locks would be tickling Trowa's face. Quatre's tongue licked his own upper lip and he softly bit on the lower one before speaking. "Just for that," he whispered, "I won't let you punish me once this is over."

Trowa was trying hard to keep his breathing even and to resist the urge to move his head up and kiss the lips that were teasing him so much. Trowa had lied. He had never seen a better sight than Quatre Winner.

Just as Trowa was getting ready to give up and throw his arms around Quatre's waist, he felt a rough tongue licking his cheek. He turned around to find the kitten with her eyes closed, and engrossed in the task of bathing him.

The pressure in his chest was suddenly gone and Trowa could hear Quatre laughing above him. "I told you she was cute," said Quatre, still laughing.

"And dangerous," muttered Trowa as he got in a sitting position and handed the cat to Quatre.

Quatre moved back to sit in the floor with his legs crossed and petted the cat happily purring in his lap. "She is way too friendly for a cat," he said. "I thought felines weren't very trusting."

Trowa smiled. "Animals have good instincts." He moved beside Quatre and put an arm around the blond's shoulder. Quatre immediately rested his head on Trowa's chest. "It's a safe bet to say we are keeping her?" asked Trowa while he looked at Quatre's fingers tracing circles in the kitten's back.

"I would like that," said the blond without taking his eyes away from the golden kitty.

"She needs a name."

"What about Helios?" asked Quatre, finally raising his gaze to look at Trowa. "He was the mighty, all-seeing god of the Sun and also, by extension, the god of the gift of sight and the measurements of time." Quatre turned his eyes back to the kitten. "She looks bright and shinny enough to fill that description, don't you think?"

Trowa nodded. "Yeah, but Helios was a god and our kitten is a she. Maybe you should pick a goddess, Cat?"

"No," said Quatre smiling. "I like Helios. It's unique, just like she is."

"Yes," repeated Trowa. "Unique."

* * *

tbc