Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ No Choice ❯ Chapter 1

No Choice

Warnings: shonen ai, violence

Setting: Quatre's favorite estate on Earth

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing characters belong to Mixx Entertainment, Koichi Tokita, the SOTSU Agency, Sunrise, Kodansha and anyone I may have forgotten, not to me. I make no money off of this.

Quatre's eyes closed softly as he lay his fingers on the cool piano keys, silent in the moment before he began playing. Outside birds sang and danced along his windowsill, begging their mates to reciprocate their affections. He smiled as he listened, reminding himself to appreciate the sound. The Winner Estate on earth, the family's original estate, allowed him to be close to the untamed woodland creatures that couldn't be brought to the colonies for practical reasons.

And I know I should be happy here, Quatre sighed. But I feel so...empty.

A strong gust of wind swept by the window, carrying the miniature concert away on their wings to better opportunities. Quatre blinked when their music stopped and glanced out of the spotless glass. It took time, getting used to seasons again. Spring was melting away into summer, the flowers were in full bloom, and the morning shower had washed the clouds away, leaving a clear blue sky in its wake. He stared at the road that disappeared into the horizon, sighed again, and began to play.

Beautiful melancholy notes echoed through the house, surprising a few of the servants. No one had known the young master was awake, and so early, too. The sun was barely coming over the horizon. Below, in the spacious garden beneath the window, Rashid lit a cigarette and stared at the same road Quatre had. Watching over his young master had driven him to smoking, which always made him smirk when he thought of it. The sweet, polite young man that charmed everyone he met was more of a handful than the worst rich brat on the earth. These quiet moments, when Quatre wasn't running off to save the world from itself, were far and few between, even now that the war was over. But at least no one was aiming a gun at the master now. Those worries were gone, and Quatre seemed to have escaped the conflict without serious emotional trauma.

At least he hadn't seen evidence of psychological scarring.

A faint rumbling in the distance broke into his thoughts, and his head snapped up in hasty fear. Time seemed to rewind and Rashid was certain a pack of mobile dolls was racing down the road, guns blazing. He shook his head to clear his mind. No, it was a motorcycle approaching fast, dust flying behind it. He frowned and followed it with his eyes.

The music suddenly halted as Quatre glanced back out the window and froze. He gasped in disbelief, paralyzed in delight, then bolted from the music room, racing down the long corridors to the front of the mansion. As he reached the grand staircase, he ignored the servants' stares and slid sideways down the banister, riding almost entirely on his right side until he leaped off at the bottom. The servants just chuckled and continued their chores. For all the master's manners and ingenuity, he was still an adolescent boy.

He burst out of the front doors just in time to see the motorcyclist stop at the driveway and stand up. The helmet was set on the handlebars as the rider stared at him.

"Trowa!" Quatre cried, throwing himself into Trowa's arms. The tall boy allowed himself a moment of emotional indulgence and spun Quatre around once, holding him even closer.

"I've missed you so much, little one," he whispered, stroking the silky hair under his fingers.

"Oh, Trowa...don't ever leave me again," Quatre responded warmly, gazing into the other boy's dark eyes.

A vague hint of a smile touched Trowa's lips, and he kept one arm firmly pinning Quatre to his body while his other hand cupped behind the blonde hair, tilting his head back. Neither caring who saw, Trowa bent a few inches and softly pressed his mouth on Quatre's. The smaller boy smiled and shut his eyes, lost in ecstasy.

"I don't think I ever will," Trowa said when they finally pulled away.

Quatre, too breathless to speak, took several seconds to reply. They both heard the grandfather clock in the house count off seven chimes, reminding them exactly how early it was.

"My little angel got up before dawn just to meet me?" Trowa teased, always surprised at the playfulness Quatre drew out of him.

Quatre couldn't help his blush. "And you must have been riding a few hours before that, just to get here sooner."

Trowa held silent, but he nodded once.

Quatre grinned and kept his arm around Trowa's waist, tugging him forward. "Come on, I'll fix breakfast," he offered, knowing better than to ask Trowa if he was hungry. He would never admit it.

"You don't have to go to that trouble--" Trowa started as Quatre pulled him in, already knowing what he'd say.

"No trouble. You know I like to cook."

Around the corner of the mansion, Rashid watched the pair disappear back inside. His frown deepened in concentration, and he headed back into the garden.

*****

Breakfast finished, they stepped out the back doors and into the expansive garden, immediately finding themselves surrounded by thousands of flowers in full bloom. The pair wandered aimlessly through the cultivated Eden, chatting mildly on and off about different topics. Their arms were wrapped tight around each other, however, as if they were afraid one of them might suddenly vanish.

"You could have called," Quatre said softly, leaning against Trowa's side. "I could have come pick you up."

A strong arm was draped over his shoulders, clutching him close. "No, it was too early to wake you," Trowa murmured. "Besides, the ride relaxed me. I hate flying in airplanes."

"Duo called yesterday," Quatre suddenly broke into a new topic.

Trowa glanced down curiously at him, but waited for him to continue.

"He wanted to know if the motorcycle was running fine. Um...when did you find time to visit him and Heero?"

Trowa resisted the urge to smile. Ever since Duo had thrown a surprise party for the Arabian, Quatre was worried any time the other pilots got together without inviting him. Trowa himself hadn't been embarrassed, of course, but Quatre had almost turned pink when he'd opened up a present and found a pair of velvet lined handcuffs "for his one-man harem." His apprehension towards Duo was understandable.

Not that Trowa had minded so much. Quatre just has more delicate sensibilities, he knew, at least in public. Out loud, he started to explain his absence. "Duo said he needed help finding something special for his kids for the summer."

Quatre chuckled to himself. "And he was leading you into offering your circus for a performance or two?"

Trowa shook his head in awe. "I didn't even realize what was happening until halfway into the conversation. He had the offer out of me before I knew it. Of course it was as good spot as any for them to start their tour."

"But why your circus? I'm sure there were plenty others around their spot."

Trowa shrugged. "No one else would take the job."

"You mean no one else was willing to put up with Duo, Heero, and a bunch of hyperactive kids."

"That, too. Mainly Heero, though. I must admit, I never thought he had it in him to take care of some thirty-odd kids, but no matter how sullen he gets, he's still got them running over him."

"So I take it the Maxwell Orphanage is doing well?"

"Maxwell-Yuy Orphanage," Trowa corrected him. "Duo insisted. Said it made Heero feel more involved, although he would never admit it."

"And I suppose your other motorcycle broke down while you were there?"

"No, Heero took it apart to show the kids how an engine runs, and it wasn't ready by the time I was set to leave."

Quatre laughed at that. "Duo's becoming a bad influence on Heero. I hate to think what those kids are going to turn out like."

"Hopefully children who will never know what war is. People who will only know peace."

"Peace feels so strange," Quatre murmured. "I'm still not used to it all. Sometimes I think I'm just dreaming, and that any minute I'll wake up and we'll be back in space, still fighting."

"I know what you mean," Trowa replied as they continued down the stone path. "I have nightmares where we're fighting each other, only this time Heero destroys you and Wing Zero, or you simply lose yourself in your madness."

Quatre shivered and pressed himself harder against his lover. "I hate thinking about that. I almost killed you, and when I thought you were gone...I felt so empty inside, like my heart had been torn out." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "I've never adequately made up to you for that."

"It wasn't your fault," Trowa said, falling into their recurring argument. "I've told you not to obsess about that. Your kindness was what made you hurt so much, your kindness and love for others. And if you weren't so kind..."

"...I wouldn't have gone insane," Quatre all but moaned.

"...then you wouldn't be the Quatre I fell in love with," Trowa completed his thought. There was a stone bench nearby, so he steered the blonde boy to it and gently forced him to sit down. He sat down beside him and folded him up in his arms, holding him as the tears came. Quatre willingly sank into Trowa's hold, hiding his face in his boyfriend's familiar blue turtleneck while he cried quietly.

"I almost lost you," he whispered harshly.

"You will never lose me," Trowa promised. "I'll always be here."

"You forgive me too easily."

Trowa put his hand under Quatre's chin and tilted his head up so he could stare into those clear blue eyes. More tears spilled down as Quatre looked up at him. "You don't want me to forgive you? You want me to take some kind of payment from you?" He gave his lover no time to answer, instead stealing a quick, feathery kiss before Quatre could react. He withdrew after several seconds, then took another kiss, fingers intertwined in blonde hair so that he couldn't pull away. Quatre put one hand on Trowa's shoulder, intending only to remind his koi that he couldn't hold his breath as long as Trowa could. Not giving him any say in the matter, Trowa seized the slender wrist and pushed it back down, rendering it useless. Finally he released Quatre, who leaned against his muscular body, breathing deep.

"I tell you what," Trowa whispered in his ear, the sensation making Quatre's spine tingle. "A few thousand more kisses like that, and we'll call it even."

"Mmm...I can do that..." Quatre put his head on Trowa's chest and drowsed in the summer heat. He felt his boyfriend adjusting his slighter body so that he was seated on his lap.

Trowa absent-mindedly caressed Quatre's cheek, stroking his eyelids and tracing the outline of his lips with one tickling finger. A cool breeze blew over them, making the smaller boy shudder at the sudden chill. It was still early enough that the wind was cool. Trowa wrapped himself around his lover, warming him up.

"We can go inside, if you want," he offered, but Quatre shook his head.

"I'm not that fragile," he said defensively. "I won't freeze."

Trowa smiled vaguely. "I wasn't thinking about the wind."

A blush rose up unbidden on Quatre's cheeks as he smiled. "Well, if you insist..."

Trowa stood up quickly, sweeping Quatre up into his arms. "I do. I've been dreaming constantly about you, and it's frustrating not being able to do anything about it."

"You think your absence has been any easier on me? I was starting to see your face everywhere I looked. I checked my messages every day, which reminds me," he said, his tone becoming stern, "why didn't you email me?"

"Our lines aren't all that secure."

Quatre pulled himself closer against Trowa as they ducked inside the house and dodged the household staff. "But Trowa, the war is over. We don't have to worry about enemies hacking into our system."

"Old habits die hard."

*****

Quatre woke up later in the evening securely wrapped around Trowa's warm body. The blankets had fallen to his waist, but the air was still comfortably warm, even with the overhead fan softly whirring overhead. He gazed up at Trowa's face, enjoying the way his features relaxed in sleep. A little worried that he might startle his lover awake, he hesitantly brushed the stray hair from his face, revealing all of his face. He lay a tiny kiss on his cheek, then quietly left the bed, dressing rapidly. After such a long drive, Trowa needed his sleep no matter how much he said otherwise.

He glanced out of the open window and smiled. Violet hues mixed with pink and blue as the sun sank beneath the horizon, followed by a pretty crescent moon and a few bright stars. It was a gorgeous sight, but he still rose and closed the curtains on the window. Soon it would be dark enough to see inside their room clearly, and he didn't want anyone catching Trowa unawares.

"Quatre...?"

The Arabian smiled apologetically and went back to the bed, sitting down next to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Trowa gave him a languid smile and shook his head. "No...it's all right. I should get up anyway..."

"No," Quatre put his hands on Trowa's chest and kept him firmly pressed to the mattress. "Go back to sleep. You're still tired, you know that."

"I'm fine, really," Trowa protested, but he didn't push Quatre away. He raised one hand to his lover's cheek, gently stroking it. "After all, you're sitting next to me."

Quatre blushed and looked down at the floor with a smile.

Trowa's fingers ran down Quatre's shoulder to grasp his hand, rubbing the muscles there softly. His ability to make his companion blush always surprised him. "Come back to bed, koi."

Quatre signed, reluctantly leaving the temptation. "I need to check up on the staff and make sure dinner's started, and I need to see that the grounds are secure."

"Then let me come with you," Trowa started, but Quatre put his hand over Trowa's mouth. He blushed again when he felt a kiss placed in his palm.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I'll come back in a few hours, but you really need your rest. All right?"

With a tiny sigh, Trowa nodded. Quatre bent down and kissed him once more, then stood. "Sweet dreams."

Trowa smiled and settled back onto the pillow, closing his eyes. "I'll be dreaming of you."

Not caring that he was grinning like a fool, Quatre stared at his lover until Trowa had fallen back asleep. Once he was certain that he wasn't caught in his occasional nightmares, the Arabian left the room, closing the door behind him. He stretched, then started moving through the house, double-checking every door and window before arming the security system. Like Trowa said, old habits die hard.

*****

Almost an hour later, assured that all was well on the estate, he sat back behind his office desk and began working through his papers. Endless forms, dozens of documents, things for him to sign...I hate being wealthy, he thought. He didn't dare say such things to Trowa. He knew his lover thought he was somewhat naive about certain things, even though he never came out and said it. But really, there was only one thing he considered his money good for, and that was doing things to make Trowa smile.

Quatre leaned back with a dreamy smile, remembering different "dates" he'd taken Trowa on. The trip to the amusement park, the chalet he'd rented in the mountains, the tropical vacation...

"Quatre, may I come in?" a familiar voice came from the door. "I need to speak with you."

The blonde looked up, mildly dismayed that Rashid had managed to get so close without him noticing. "Of course. What's the matter?"

Rashid remained in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "I'll be blunt. It's your boyfriend."

Quatre blinked in surprise. "I don't understand."

"It's dangerous for him to speed back and forth like this," he explained. "He should remain here, and run his business from his own office."

"Dangerous?" Quatre wondered. "You mean the way he rides that motorcycle? I know he can seem reckless, but believe me, he's the best driver I've ever seen."

Rashid shook his head. "No, Master. What I mean is, he constantly leaves himself open to attack either with that circus of his, or simply by isolating himself on that empty stretch of road."

"Rashid, the war is over--" Quatre started to argue, but the other man held his hand up, interrupting him.

"There are many other threats beside those from an enemy military. Simply because we are at peace does not mean we can lower our guard." Rashid sighed and stood straight. "Master, you're trusting nature is commendable, but I think sometimes you are too kind. We can never be too careful."

Quatre sighed sadly. "You sound just like Trowa..."

The taller man smirked. "Would it be so terrible to have him here all the time, instead of rushing about every few weeks?"

Once again, the dreamy smile reappeared on Quatre's face. "Oh...that would be...wonderful..."

Rashid chuckled and left the young master to his private musings, knowing anything else he said now would only go unheard. Quatre didn't even notice as he left, instead staring at the notepad on his desk. Absentmindedly he picked up a pen and began to doodle little hearts across the page.

"Quatre?" a soft voice filled the room.

He looked up in surprise and smiled. "Trowa...why aren't you in bed?"

Trowa, back in his normal clothes, stepped close and put his arms around him, staring at the page before him. "It's been two hours, plenty of time for a nap."

"Two hours?" Quatre gasped, staring at the notepad. It was absolutely covered in little hearts, some shaded in, some inside other hearts, with Trowa's name written several times around the edge. "I didn't even notice."

Trowa smiled and kissed his cheek. "Seems like you lost track of time. Dinner's served. Hungry?"

Quatre nodded and returned his kiss, eagerly devouring his mouth. "Mm-hmm...but not for food..." He allowed Trowa to help him up, then turned as a yawn forced its way out of him.

His boyfriend's smile broadened as he swept him up into his arms, cradling him comfortably. "Is my angel tired?"

"Your angel thinks he shouldn't have to wake up so early," Quatre mumbled into Trowa's shirt. "Maybe you should stay and do all your business here...you're so warm..."

Trowa nuzzled the precious creature in his arms as he carried him downstairs. "Maybe," he whispered back.

*****

Quatre lay stretched out on his back, surrounded by the lush grass of his garden. Flowers swayed in the breeze, like a moving blanket, and tiny leaves dropped from the willow tree looming over him. He'd discarded his usual clothing for a loose-fitting short sleeve and a pair of jeans, intending to enjoy the day without worrying about the financial empire.

In front of him, Trowa walked along the narrow railing as if it was a tightrope, then slowly bent at the waist and wrapped his hands around the circular metal. Once his grip was secure, he straightened, bringing his legs above his head as he continued to move along the railing. He smiled when he heard Quatre's startled laugh, then tilted on his hand until he had turned around and began going back the other way.

So much easier without gloves, he thought. And much easier than doing this on a running lion. He glanced over at Quatre, who showed no signs of moving, and decided to truly surprise him. He bent again, carefully placing his sneakers on the railing, and then suddenly crouched and launched himself into the air. Executing a quick triple spin, he landed directly on top of the blonde Arabian, hands and legs on either side of him.

Quatre gasped and shut his eyes, keeping them closed tight until he was sure he wasn't going to be used as a landing pad. He looked up at Trowa, who was only inches from his face. "Trowa!" he complained mildly. "You frightened me!"

The other boy didn't answer, lowering his head for a taste of Quatre's mouth. As they kissed, Trowa's body came to rest on top of Quatre's, pinning him down to the soft ground. Quatre reached up to put his arms around Trowa, but his boyfriend only grabbed his wrists and pushed them over the blonde's head, holding him prisoner for the moment.

Eyes half closed, Trowa adjusted their position until both of Quatre's wrists were held securely in one of his large hands. Restraining him temporarily, Trowa smothered him in soft kisses while his other hand worked its way under the thin shirt, rubbing the smooth skin.

"You are a beautiful angel," he whispered.

Quatre smiled and forced himself to relax, not easy to do when one's first instinct was to throw off the attacker. "No," he responded. "I'm 'your' angel."

"All mine," Trowa nodded. He released Quatre's hands and lay his head on the smaller boy's chest, drowsing in the heat of the sun. "This is wonderful."

Supple yet surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him and held him close. "I love you, Trowa."

The tall pilot returned the embrace, about to respond in kind when he heard something metallic snap a meter or so away. He sat up, looking for whatever had made the unknown sound, when the sprinklers abruptly came on. Fine mist sprayed out instead of jets of water, but it was cold water all the same.

Quatre cried out in alarm, laughing at the same time. "Oh, what timing!"

Trowa looked around and saw that every route was cut off with those damn sprinklers. Hmm...the only way out, it seems, is up. Not waiting to ask permission, he scooped Quatre into his arms and carried him to the nearest tree, using one hand to climb the squat oak.

"Trowa, I can walk, you know," Quatre grumbled, kissing him to take the edge off his comment.

"I know, little one," Trowa smirked, eyes gleaming. "But I worry that you will be too small to reach the higher branches."

"Trowa!" Quatre gasped. "Just remember, I can tie you down before you wake up!"

"I know, you proved that quite nicely this morning."

Trowa finally settled down on a large branch that forked upward at an almost perpendicular angle, making a nice chair for them. Sitting down first, he settled Quatre comfortably on his lap, allowing him to lay his head on his shoulder. He gazed down at him, marveling at the way the tiny water droplets sparkled on Quatre's eyelashes.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he whispered.

Quatre blushed and lowered his eyes. "You'll make me vain with all your compliments."

"But they're true," Trowa insisted, pressing him with another kiss.

As Quatre edged even closer to the warm body next to him, soft laughter echoed out from one of the windows looking into the garden. They both looked up to see a couple of the maids cleaning the tall windows and giggling to themselves.

"Why would they be--?" Quatre wondered, but Trowa lay his finger on the soft lips, shushing him.

"They're a bit amazed with us," he chuckled. "Even the sprinklers didn't manage to cool us down."

An involuntary laugh escaped out of Quatre. "I suppose they're right." He stared up sadly at Trowa. "Do you really have to leave today?"

Trowa nodded. "But it's only for a little bit," he swore.

"You leave too often," Quatre pouted.

"The last time was two weeks ago!"

"Too soon."

"I'll be back in time for a duet, I promise."

"I hope we'll have time for a little more than a duet," Quatre narrowed his eyes suggestively. "And when do you have to go? Do we have time for fun before then?"

"How can you be so innocent and so wanton at once?" Trowa smiled.

"A special talent," Quatre laughed. "Would you like to sample another of my talents?"

"Here, in the garden where everyone can see us?" Trowa asked. "Are you sure?"

"Mmm...hold still," Quatre beamed, kissing him deeply as his hands roamed. "We wouldn't want to fall out of the tree."

*****

"Master Quatre?"

The Arabian looked up vaguely from the paperwork in front of him. He'd already finished reading and signing it all, but he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do at the moment. No, not true. He wanted Trowa there, but then his lover wasn't around, was he? He fingered the flower Trowa had placed in his blonde hair, a pretty blue violet.

"Yes, Rashid?" he asked, his voice uncommonly flat.

"Master Quatre, your tea has been set out in the music room as you requested."

"All right, thanks."

"And I wanted to tell you that I will be leaving for the estate dealings for the Maganacs now."

Quatre nodded once, eyes not moving. "All right."

Rashid narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "And then I will put on a dress and sing madrigals in the backyard," he said.

"I don't think they make dresses in your size, Rashid," Quatre smiled sadly. "I really am listening, I just...I just don't feel well, that's all."

The taller man shook his head sadly. "Does it really make you feel empty, to be without him?"

Quatre nodded, quietly resting forward on his desk.

Rashid smiled with a soft chuckle. "Ah, to be love-sick again...really, Quatre, you don't think moping about because your lover is gone is counter-productive? Wouldn't you rather be doing something?"

"Yes," Quatre grumbled, "but they all involve Trowa."

Rashid's laughter grew stronger. "Well, perhaps you should mope in the music room, it's much warmer in there. You'll catch a cold if you stay in here longer, and then Trowa will have to wait for you to get better before...anything."

Quatre sat up and gave him a half-hearted smile. "I suppose so. Thank you, Rashid."

The other man grinned and turned to leave. "I just do not like to see you so moody, that's all."

Watching as Rashid left, Quatre stood and headed to the music room, only slightly dragging his feet. He didn't care that he was scuffing the marble floor, or that the grass stains on his shoes would leave marks on an Oriental rug worth thousands of dollars. But he did take care not to damage the soft petals of the flower still in his hands.

When he reached his destination, he sat down in the soft chair in the corner and pulled the tray with his tea close, setting the flower on the corner. He visibly relaxed in the warmer air, trapped from the afternoon's earlier heat. Now, as the sun was beginning to drift down towards the horizon, the evening air hadn't cooled the air as it had in his office.

He noticed a folded letter alongside the saucer, and he held it up. A smile slowly forced its way over his features as he realized it was one of Duo's hasty letters that came nearly every week. Something he immediately recognized as a picture fluttered onto his lap, and his smile broadened when he picked it up.

Duo and Heero stood in front of a large, brightly colored tent, surrounded by rambunctious children holding cotton candy and hot dogs. Duo had on his usual black clothing and his cap, but a gold ring was obvious on his left hand as he raised his fingers in a "V" sign to the camera. Beside him, Heero had somehow been dragged into a loose fitting, dark blue shirt and blue jeans, but the yellow sneakers were still there. Apparently Duo was pleased with himself for getting serious-minded Yuy to enjoy the chocolate ice cream in his hand. And in the background, if Quatre looked close enough, he could spot one of the lions running loose with several children after it.

"Ai, Duo," Quatre sighed, feeling sorry for the lion. "You and your 'kids'...at least Heero's there to bail you out."

He turned his attention from the picture to the letter and began to read.

Hey Quatre!

Tell Trowa "thanks" for bringing his circus down, it's great letting the kids run wild for awhile. Summer's usually awfully draining since school is out and all the kids are loose. How are you holding up? Wufei wrote last week and guess what? The "onna-hater" himself is engaged! Okay, maybe hate's too strong a word. Onna-exasperator, maybe? To Sally, of course!

And when are you and Trowa gonna tie the knot? I tried to get information out of your boyfriend, but he was as tight-lipped as usual. Look, I promise Heero and I will leave the kids at home with a handful of sitters, okay? Just choose a date, already!

Oh, um, I gotta go. Heero's threatening another kid with his "omae o korosu" line. No, they all know he wouldn't, but it does mean I'd better calm him down. Later!

Quatre wondered briefly what kind of people those children were going to grow into. He finished his tea and put the letter aside, meaning to put it in his office later with the rest of Duo's letters. Rising to look out the window, he took a step towards the piano. He stumbled a bit looked down.

"Strange," he whispered. "I don't remember the room being tilted...?"

A second later his eyes closed and he was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

*****

"How much you think we can get for him?"

"Billions, no problem. He's a rich little brat."

"Yeah, but will they pay?"

"Oh, they'll pay. If they don't want to get him back in pieces, they'll pay a shitload."

Quatre resisted the urge to moan or open his eyes as he came to. Roused by the voices, he cracked his eye open just a tiny bit, peering through the lashes at the men in front of him. The angle was odd, and only when the cold started to bite at his skin did he realize he was looking up at them from the floor. Rough cord bound his wrists tight behind his back, and he could feel a similar loop around his ankles.

Kidnapped? he wondered in amazement. I've been kidnapped? His vision focused and he finally got a good look at the two men before him. One of them was a stranger, but the other...he recognized him, one of the servants he'd hired on recently to tend the garden.

Rashid was right, security was too lax. Trowa tried to warn me...Trowa...I want Trowa...Anxiety and pain won out in his head and he involuntarily whimpered, catching their attention.

"Hey, I think he's awake."

The stranger grabbed his arms and forcefully sat him up, ignoring Quatre's cry as the rope burned his wrists. Quatre tried to shift to a less painful position, but the other man took it as a move to escape and viciously slapped him several times. Quatre lowered his head, hoping he could play for a little time and a little less pain while he was at it.

"Stay still, runt!"

"Don't bother, he's a total pushover," the gardener smirked.

Praise Allah he doesn't know anything about me, Quatre almost smiled in relief. He gave a cursory moan and hoped his acting skills were good.

"See, told ya. Just smack him around if he gives you a problem."

Quatre looked up, wincing at what felt like bright lights hit his eyes. The gardener sneered at him.

"Do you even know who I am, Mr. High and Mighty?" he growled, crossing his arms. "Do you know my name?"

Quatre made a show of staring hard at him. "No, I'm afraid not," he lied. "Should I?"

Instead of being insulted, the gardener grinned. "Too busy screwing with your boyfriend, huh?"

"I'm gonna make the call," the stranger suddenly said. "They've probably noticed he's gone by now."

"I'm coming with you."

As they left, the gardener turned off the lights and started to close the door.

"No, please don't leave me in the dark," Quatre yelled, using what Trowa called his "puppy-dog eyes". The other two paid no attention to him, though, and slammed the door, plummeting him into darkness.

Quatre sighed irately. Escaping would've been a lot easier if they'd left the lights on. He shifted until onto his back and started to force his hands down, straining to bring them under his legs. The rope tore at his skin, covering the ropes in his own blood, but he finally brought his wrists around his ankles and to his chest. I never thought I'd be happy I'm so small. He bit at one end of the rope, grimacing as he tasted his own blood. Without his sight, undoing the knot with his teeth was a chore that lasted all of five minutes. Trowa would have been displeased.

Knowing he had to hurry, Quatre undid the bindings on his ankles and stood slowly, trying to avoid any lingering dizziness. He still felt light-headed, but not enough to force him back down again. He placed one hand on the wall, searching for a ventilation shaft or a maintenance access panel.

"Yes," he whispered with a happy smile. There was a small metal door in the corner that easily swung open towards him. He put his hands out, feeling around inside, and found a narrow space that extended in two directions. Water audibly rushed around nearby, and his hand brushed a pipe set against the rough brick wall. This was definitely a maintenance access tunnel.

"We're still on the earth," he sighed, quite relieved. He'd been worried they had taken him up to some spaceship. At least now he felt grounded, literally. With no hesitation, he slid into the access tunnel and edged through it, hoping it would lead to another room or even a higher floor, since this area sounded much like basements he'd been in before.

*****

Trowa stepped inside the mansion, surprised that nearly all the lights were dark. He didn't see anyone nearby, but he remembered that Quatre had said something about letting all the servants go so they would be alone. Still...

I don't like this, he thought, dropping his duffel bag on the floor and digging out his handgun. My little angel would've jumped out of the mansion and hugged me, or left a note telling me to come to the bedroom. This isn't like you, Quatre. What's happened?

He calmly walked upstairs, sweeping his gaze back and forth along the hallway and wondering if anyone was going to leap out from the shadows at him. Straining to hear any kind of noise in the silent mansion, he briefly ducked inside the music room and noticed a letter and picture by the chair in the corner. Making sure he was alone, he picked them up and glanced over them.

Quatre wouldn't just leave this on the floor...he left them on the seat and quickly moved to the office, hoping to find a message hidden away in the secret panel on the first drawer, or behind the frame around the little picture Quatre had of him. Nothing. Trowa plopped down in Quatre's chair and concentrated, puzzled by the turn of events.

The phone in front of him suddenly rang.

Trowa shook his head in disbelief. No way, it can't be that easy.

He picked up the phone and answered. "Hello, Winner office."

"Who is this? Is this Rashid?"

"No, who am I speaking to?" Trowa asked.

"Oh, I know who you are, Quatre's little playmate. Yeah, you'll do. Listen up, kid, we got Quatre, and if you ever wanna see him alive again, you'd better send us ten billion dollars by tomorrow night!"

"Ah..." Trowa tapped a few buttons on the phone and waited for the trace to run through. "Have you ever done this before?" Trowa asked, leaning back in the chair.

"What?!"

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Kid, are you crazy?"

"Look, you don't exactly sound like a professional kidnapper. And if you managed to get to Quatre, you're probably on his staff somewhere. Are you sure you want to play this game?"

"You wanna see your pint-sized boyfriend sent to you bit by bit through the mail?!"

Trowa frowned. "How do I know you have him?"

"What do you mean? We've got him right here!"

Definitely never done this before, Trowa sighed. "Let me talk to him. I'll start getting the money together when I know he's all right."

"Fine!" Perking up the moment Trowa had said "money," the gardener nodded at the other man, who headed back to the tiny room they'd left Quatre in. "You sure you can round up all the money?" the gardener continued the conversation.

Trowa smirked. That's it, stay on the line. "It'll take awhile, maybe a couple of days. The first few million are on hand, but the rest will have to come out of liquefied stocks, real estate, satellite sales..."

A tiny red light began to flash on the phone, and he leaped up to read the digital display. His eyes opened wide, not just in surprise but outright astonishment.

They're in the house?! he gasped. Just how stupid are these guys?

Over the phone, he heard someone yell in the background "he's gone! He got out in an access panel!"

Trowa got his answer. Very stupid indeed. He slammed the receiver done, picked up his handgun and headed for the lowest basement level. Keep moving, Quatre. I'm coming after you.

*Quatre continued to edge through the narrow passage, barely able to force himself to keep going. It wasn't that he was afraid of where he would end up or that the dark was making him nervous. No, he'd put his hand out on the wall and felt something with far too many legs run over his skin and disappear. And after that, he'd walked through a spider's web.

I don't want to be here, I want Trowa, I just wanted a nice quiet day and no, some idiot has to try and kidnap me. He frowned in a cute little pout. First things first, I'm firing that gardener. And who the heck was that other guy? I sure didn't recognize him. Maybe Trowa would. If he was here...

Quatre sighed and kept moving. He put one foot down and felt something crack and squish beneath it. He whimpered hard. I hate insects! Heart racing in his chest, he sped up as fast as he could...

...and promptly slammed his face into the wall. He put his hands up to his offended nose and looked behind himself. If I'm lucky, they don't know I'm gone yet. I can just--

"He's gone! He got out in an access panel!"

Quatre rolled his eyes. Nope, they know now. Turning his attention back to the wall before him, he tentatively put his hands out and prayed he wouldn't find anymore bugs or spiders or cobwebs. To his delight, he discovered that the tunnel veered off at a hard right and extended farther into the darkness.

"Well, I can't go back, so I'd better go forward." He grinned when he discovered this space was larger than the previous tunnel and he could actually run along the path. Keeping his hands out to ward off another collision with a wall, he took off.

Minutes later, he spotted a little light just beyond a large metal grate ahead of him. He pulled to a stop in front of it and pushed as hard as he could, but he couldn't budge it. In the dim light, though, he could see a large pipe running horizontally over the grate.

Perfect, he smiled, reaching up and firmly placing his hands on it.

A split second later he hissed and drew back, holding his hands close. Nothing but boiling hot water running through that pipe, it seemed. Okay, not perfect, but I can still use it. Unbuttoning his shirt, he wrapped the cloth around his hands to shield him from the bulk of the heat, then tried the maneuver again. He pulled his slim body up and kicked violently against the grate once, then twice. He started to feel the hot metal through the shirt, but he could also feel the grate coming loose. Taking a breather to cool his hands down, he backed up a little down the tunnel, then took a running leap at the pipe, kicking forward with all his might. Without warning, the metal grate exploded out. Quatre's eyes widened in surprise as he sailed out with it.

He landed hard on his rear, sliding across the smooth floor until he came to rest against a washing machine. Blinking, he glanced around himself and started to laugh. He recognized the laundry room.

"I'm still in the mansion," he whispered. "I can't believe this. This has to be some kind of joke. Duo must be doing this."

"There he is!"

Quatre stared back down the tunnel and spotted one of his kidnappers squeezing through the narrow space. It was the stranger, and he was somehow managing to force his way around the corner, gasping for air. The stranger held one hand up, brandishing a handgun and aiming at Quatre.

The little blonde gasped and darted to the side, barely avoiding the first bullet as it tore into the washing machine. Forgetting his shirt, he ran alongside the wall, trying to find either a weapon or a good hiding place. All he could see was a handful of other washing machines.

*****

Trowa ran through the hallway towards the front stairs, sliding down the banister much as Quatre usually did. Landing nimbly on the floor, he sped to the kitchen and opened the door leading to the basement. Holding his handgun up cautiously, he quietly stepped down the dark staircase and held his breath at the bottom, glancing around the corner. All he found was a long, unlit corridor. He slowly edged along the wall, knowing he was in plain sight and wondering if he would spot the kidnappers before they saw him.

*Crack*

Trowa was running full-tilt before he realized it. He knew the sound of a gunshot, even muffled between the thick walls. Please, Quatre, please, be all right. Be all right.

*****

Trowa, where are you? Quatre thought frantically, staring at the door on the far side of the room. It was the only exit he had now that the vent was blocked, and if he made a run for it, he would likely be shot. If he stayed, though, the strange man with the gun would eventually make it through and shoot him.

Trowa should be home by now, hasn't he noticed I'm gone? He sighed and shook his head. No use worrying about it now. He pressed himself to the wall with the grate and eased as close as he could before the stranger would spot him, then lunged forward.

"Hey, stop!" the kidnapper yelled, firing off two rapid shots.

Quatre felt the heat from the bullets pass inches from his back, but it only made him move faster. He grabbed the door and flung it wide open...just as the second kidnapper was about to come in. Quatre's eyes immediately dropped to his waist, noting somewhat irately that he didn't have to lower his eyes far.

No, I was wrong. I *hate* being short. To his dismay, the gardener held a large handgun aimed directly at him.

"What the--?" the kidnapper gasped, momentarily surprised to see his prey opening the door for him.

A spec of orange and blue to the right caught Quatre's attention. Laundry detergent! He shoved his hand into the half-open box, grabbed a fistful of bleach, and hurled it into his enemy's face. He dodged to the right as he did, narrowly missing the bullet as the kidnapper fired reactively.

"Owww! Shit, you little bastard! Get back here!"

"I'll get him!" came another voice.

Quatre looked up and saw the stranger, who'd been stuck in the maintenance shaft, somehow pulling himself out of the wall. He couldn't grab their guns while they were pointed at him, and now both of his exits were blocked. Unable to go anywhere, Quatre scrambled back against the wall and wished that one of the maids had left a bazooka or something equally as powerful on the floor.

"That's it, we kill him now and just take the money when they send it!" the gardener yelled, red stinging eyes glaring at Quatre.

"No."

*Bang*

Quatre winced as half of the gardener's head flew up against the walls and floor, staining the ground red. A broad smile broke over his face as Trowa came in, gun held up and locked onto the second kidnapper.

"Trowa!" Quatre yelled, running forward and putting his arms around his lover's waist.

Trowa allowed himself a brief second to glance over Quatre and make sure he was sound, and he settled his arm over the blonde's shoulders, holding him tight. As he looked back up at the stranger, his eyes opened wide. "Thomas?!"

Quatre looked up at Trowa in shock. "You know him?"

"He works at the circus," Trowa nodded. "Takes care of the elephants. Why would he...?"

"You ever try taking care of those things?!" Thomas yelled. "So damn huge and they don't ever follow directions and damnit, they eat like garbage disposals and then when it comes out...it's terrible, and I had to...I had to get out somehow!"

"You couldn't have just changed jobs?" Quatre asked softly.

Thomas blinked, as if an unknown truth had just hit him. Then he shook it off and screamed out "I couldn't! The elephants, they'd follow me, I know they would, just to screw me up again!"

"I don't think we can reason with him anymore," Trowa whispered, and pulled the trigger.

*****

"My apologies, Master Quatre," Rashid sighed, "I should have been here."

Quatre looked up with a forgiving grin from his desk. "It's all right, Rashid. You had to work on those deals, and besides, no one knew I was going to be kidnapped. Speaking of which, did your trip go well?"

Rashid smiled despite himself. "I would say so, yes. I've managed to secure a large area of land in the Sahara for a relatively low price."

"There is an oasis, right?" Quatre asked.

Rashid chuckled. "There are several, along with a handful of deep wells the owners did not know about."

Quatre laughed. "They never went in deep enough to find them, did they?"

"And I certainly was not about to tell them," Rashid nodded. He noticed the clock on the wall and rose abruptly. "It's nearly three. I promised the men I'd have them going by four."

"I'll see you around, then," Quatre smiled. "Let me know when you get there."

Half an hour after Rashid left, Quatre heard soft footsteps coming down the hall on the long rug. The fact that he could barely hear them told him that it was Trowa and that his tall lover was being kind enough to let him know he was near. He bounded up from his chair and ran to the door, throwing himself into Trowa's waiting arms.

Trowa laughed as Quatre wrapped his legs around his waist and smothered him in kisses. He carefully walked to one of the plush chairs and set Quatre down, kneeling down after him so he could lay his head in the blonde's lap. "Did you miss me?"

Quatre's soft fingers ran through his hair and down his throat, heading firmly down between his shoulder blades to make him arch slightly. "Of course. I was miserable...but I knew you had to go again. Is everything taken care of?"

"Mm-hmm. The doctors said that when Thomas recovers from the bullet wound, he's going to be transported to a high security mental institution."

"That's good," Quatre sighed. "And your circus?"

"Oh, we found someone who was willing to take over his job. And they finally managed to round up all the lions Duo's kids had let loose...and calm down the clowns Heero freaked out."

"I didn't know Heero hated clowns."

"He doesn't. They tried to sneak up on him."

Quatre giggled. "And how many guns did Heero have on him?"

Trowa sighed. "I'm just glad none of those orphans have Duo's propensity for pick-pocketing, or else they'd have a small army on their hands."

Quatre smiled, but he closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for his next question. "And when will you be going back?"

Trowa looked up at him, placing his hands on Quatre's face. "Hmm...maybe...never?" He grinned when Quatre froze in surprise. "Thomas knew where to find you by following me. All he had to do was find a disgruntled employee. I'm not going to endanger you anymore."

"But...they're your family..." Quatre protested mildly, unable to hide the fact that he was delighted.

Trowa eased up onto the chair, dragging Quatre into his lap so they could both sit comfortably. "Yes, but you're my little angel, and I have to take care of you. You may be brilliant, but you can be exceedingly silly at times."

"Trowa, you've already scolded me about this," Quatre sighed.

"Yes, and I'll scold you as long as I think I need to. Are you going to build up your security like I told you to?"

Quatre nodded with a tiny smile. "Yes, I will."

Trowa chuckled. "Well, I'm going to have to keep you absolutely safe, and that means I can never leave your side."

"You promise?" Quatre whispered.

Trowa dug into his pocket and pulled something out, grabbing Quatre's hand at the same time. With a long kiss, he slid something onto Quatre's right hand. It sparkled in his peripheral vision, but only when Quatre broke from the kiss did he gasp in joy.

It was a diamond ring.

"Oh...Trowa..." happy tears sparkled in his eyes. "Yes!"

He threw his arms around Trowa again, almost knocking him off the chair. The tall boy laughed and kissed him. "I'm glad you like it."

"But...won't you be giving up almost everything?" Quatre wondered. "Your family, your circus..."

Trowa grinned and admired the way the diamond glittered on Quatre's pale skin. "It was either that life or a life with you. My little angel, I had no choice."

The End