13-Aug-2001 to 23-Sep-2001

Rating: YA/PG-17
Pairings (Eventually or Implied): 1+2 (2x1/1x2), 2+5 (5x2), 1+5 (1x5), 1+3 (3x1), 2+H (Hx2), 1+R,
Archive: This Series can be found at these wonderful sites-- GWAddiction, P-chan's Heaven, and Eos's GW Page.
Warnings: The following stories contain scenes that are humorous, sappy, angsty (what do you mean that's not a word!!) slightly AU with Incoherence and random POV switching. Original Characters are presented, all characters are IC according to the author's interpretation of them. Oh, and a definite warning for unexpected Lemon-goodness. YAOI and YURI, with a splash of hetero every now-and-then. Major Angst
Spoilers: Events take place after Series ending leading up to Endless Waltz
Feedback: C&C is always welcomed and adored. Constructive Criticism is... digestible. ^_~
Acknowledgements go out to four wonderful people who are doing a wonderful job keeping me on track: KwyckSylver for grammar and story beta-ing; Lilie the mouse and Alexia for hitting the storyboards with me and pounding out the knots; and Zan--who's never missed a serving. ^_~v Thanks, ladies!

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. References to printed texts, films, sitcoms, musical pieces, and/or other fanfictions don't belong to the author either. Original Characters are original and hence, the author's own creation. See Preamble for details.

These fics and the ideas contained within are copyright of the author.

In The Pale Moonlight by Andrea Readwolf

Part 1 Act FOUR

~Act IV~

~ Something was wrong. In the dark, they stared at one another, eye large with incomprehensible fear. He kicked at his sheets, wanting to climb into bed with 'JJ'. She always made him feel better, even when she was scared herself. He was ten short steps away from her bed when the wall behind them exploded.

Their screams filled the room. There was shouting.

He looked up from the tiny ball he'd huddled into. The beds were on fire. Brynne, Jade, Trey, Ruben, and Eva were writhing in the fiery inferno. The only reason he wasn't there with them was because he'd disobeyed the rules and gotten out of bed.

He struggled wobbly to his feet, screaming for JJ. The smell of burnt hair and burning flesh curdled his tummy. He stumbled forward, tripping over bits and pieces of the wall. The stinging flames licked at his outstretched fingers as he reached for her hand.

A hard weight yanked at his middle and he was pulled away. His world whirled around him. He saw the face of the man. He tried to tell the man to help save his brothers and sisters, but the man didn't listen. He screamed as the man run away from his bedroom, carrying him away from his brothers and sisters. ~

Heero woke up with a start, breathing hard and sweating. Resting his head in his hands, he waited for his pulse to calm down and his breathing to return to normal. Next to him on the bed, Duo mumbled in his sleep and wiggled. Heero smiled.

The last ten months of his young life had been the best he could ever remember. The last four had been like heaven since Duo and he had moved into their own apartment together. Not that the whole time had been peaceful or anything. Heero hadn't expected living with Duo to be peaceful. Duo was anything but peaceful. He was a spitting firecracker and sometimes he made Heero so mad he just wanted to hit him.

But he didn't. He never did. He would die before he hurt Duo. But there were several times when he'd had to walk away--to just get away. Those times, he usually found a bar across town that served his purpose, and when he finally came home, or Duo finally found him-- whichever came first--they'd laugh at their foolishness and kiss and make up.

Heero had felt... almost... *human* this past year. He had laughed more, smiled more, and actually been... happy. Duo made him happy.

That was something he hadn't really experienced in over five years. Not since...

Heero couldn't remember a time before Odin Lowe and his group. They had been his family, the ones who raised him, but Odin had told him, when he was seven or eight years old, that he found the boy when he was just a toddler. He had smiled when he was with Odin's team. He had laughed. He had felt.

When Odin died... he just... shut down. He still felt, but, for some reason, he couldn't touch those feelings. He was conscious of them, but he didn't want anything to do with them. His training as a gundam pilot only distanced that gulf between his emotions and him. But they weren't nonexistent. They were never *not* there. He just couldn't touch them. All that was left was icy rage and determination.

Almost two years ago, that changed. First, the girl he'd promised to kill, who still followed him; and then, the boy who'd rescued him from himself. They came into his life and... everything began to fall apart. The walls he'd built around himself, to protect him from the pain of death, the pain of being alone, the pain of living... They melted the numbness.

And all he could do was threaten to kill them.

But the didn't stop. It was too late; the damage had already been done.

He wanted to die. Up until that very last moment, looking down the sightings of Zero's beam cannon, staring up the ass of that flying chunk of Libra... He had wanted to die. He craved it, longed for it, needed it.

And then he thought of her. And he thought of him. And he thought of the others. They would be sad if he died. He would be missed. His death would hurt them like Odin's death hurt him.

He decided to live.

The day of the barbeque dawned bright and hot. Their colony was still having trouble regulating the temperatures, but the people of Miramar weren't too upset about that. Not today. Today was a day of celebration.

July 31 was a day to mark their return to life. The city's return to life. It was a birthday celebration.

The entire district of Miramar had been reborn. There was still a lot of work to do, but the spirit within the people had been renewed. Seeing the difference in the one building, more and more residents joined in to help clean out the district.

Duo was thrilled. Many of the people living in the streets were people he grew up with, or children of people he grew up with. It had made him sad to see they were still trapped there. But now, with everyone helping in some way, it was really becoming the people's district.

One of the girls from his old gang found him and asked why he was doing this. She was holding a dirty little baby swabbed in an even dirtier rag.

"Because," he told her. "It's what's right and I can."

Hilde was managing the Salvage Company by herself for the most part. Duo found a couple of men and women to help her out. They had been suspicious at first, but only too happy to find out they would be paid in credits and lunch.

He had to cut his hours down at school--only going two days a week instead of the original five, but he was still keeping up with his studies. Duo had found that, yes indeed, he liked college courses a whole lot more than normal school. He also managed to convince a few professors to come down to Miramar a couple nights a week.

Now his 'family' was not only rebuilding their home, but rebuilding their minds.

"Education is important, Duo," Father Maxwell had told him once. "It is the only thing that can prevent you from being a slave. If you know, then you can avoid those mistakes."

"Education is dangerous," Sister Helen had told him on another occasion. "It allows people to think for themselves."

He was seeing the truth of that for himself right here on this colony. For years, the people of Miramar didn't know they could be anything more than petty thieves, pickpockets, and beggars. Now, they were beginning to understand...

It had been hard at first, dealing with them. But Heero had been wonderful. The Japanese boy had a way with speeches. When he talked, everybody listened. He also seemed to know what was needed. Duo would have been lost without him. Physically and mentally. Spiritually lost.

"What are you thinking?"

The violet-eyed young man smiled, watching his lover go through his morning ritual without stopping. He shifted on the bed, repositioning his head on his arms, as he laid out on his stomach, naked.

"I'm just wondering what makes you tick," Duo answered as Heero continued with his slow, even push-ups.

"My heart. Next question." The Japanese boy only sounded slightly winded, his voice still steady and even.

Duo laughed and rolled onto his back, hanging his head over the edge of the bed. "You're really something, know that, Heero?" He swished his hair over the floor, his grin widening when he noticed Heero looked at the loose ends.

"So you've told me."

"I love you."

Heero stopped, mid-push, still for exactly ten seconds before he rolled over and sat Indian-style, facing the bed. "What's wrong?" he demanded, that cute little frown tugging at his lips.

Duo rolled over, off the bed, falling into a sit across from Heero, still grinning. "Nothing. I just feel really lucky to know you."

The coffee-haired boy was giving him that look like 'I don't believe you'. Duo leaned forward, moving to his hands and knees as he crawled up over Heero, who leaned back until he was lying against the floor. The grin never left his face.

"You're wonderful. Incredibly. You inspire people. You work miracles. You're lovely, and I feel incredibly lucky to know and love you," Duo answered, hovering over the Japanese pilot. "What you've done here is nothing beyond a miracle. It's amazing, and it's because of you."

Slowly, Heero shook his head. "It's because of *you*," he countered softly, reaching up to skim Duo's cheek with his knuckles. "It's you who inspires people; you inspire me. It was your dream and desire that made this place come alive--"

"I love you," Duo whispered, leaning down for a kiss.

"Love you, too," Heero replied before meeting Duo's lips with his own.

It was just three hours before she was supposed to be in the Miramar District, celebrating with Duo and Heero. But she didn't want to go. She knew she had to, for Duo, but she really didn't want to.

Since Duo moved out with Heero into their own apartment, things had been going worse and worse. Not that Duo knew. No, he was probably completely oblivious--which didn't help her any. With his increasing involvement with the Miramar Project, the braided L2 pilot came around the salvage yard less and less--which was fine with Hilde. The less time he came around meant the less she had to force a smile for him while eating her heart out.

Gods! Why did it have to hurt so much?

The dark-haired girl pounded her fist into the cool, hapless white tiles lining her bathtub/shower wall. The hot water from the showerhead sprayed down over her nude form, unconscious to her tormented spirit.

But even with the two gundam pilots out from under her roof, she was still required as a friend to meet with them, to hang out, to laugh and joke. Tuesday nights they meet down at Crazy 8's, the gaming hall, for a couple drinks and some pool. Duo always got a big kick out of it when she flirted outrageously with Heero, telling the Japanese youth she was going to steal him away from Duo and have her wicked way with him. Secretly, she was really flirting with Duo, planning her escape with *him*, not Heero. But she couldn't just say that.

Saturday nights, when the three could be found at Planet Krypton, a bar that also served up a chance for karaoke. It was one of Duo's favorite places--and it had been Hilde's too, but recent events had served to spoil the locale for her. Still, she forced herself to get up there and sing, with or without Duo. She couldn't help herself.

His smiles. His laughter. They were like a drug she couldn't get enough of, even though she knew it was killing her.

She was so jealous of Heero that she'd made herself physically sick on numerous occasions. But what could she do? Before her very eyes, the two grew closer and closer until even passing strangers on the streets could tell they were in love. How could she want to break up something like that? How could she *not* want it to be her?

How could she even fight against him? She could never compare to Heero. Hell! She was even the wrong fucking sex! Maybe if she was a guy, she might've had a chance, but Shit!

She had *known* Duo liked someone, she did. She just didn't think it was a--Geesh! You would think she would've *known* he was gay or something! Isn't there some kind of way to tell if a guy's gay or not? Dammit!

The sick sound of her palm slapping against tile echoed over the constant hiss of the shower hitting the tub basin. Her hand clenched, fisting into a tight ball. The wall was cool against her forehead when she leaned against it.

And then she slumped down into the tub, still leaning against the wall as her tears were washed away.

Why did it have to hurt so much?

"Hey, stranger. Fancy meeting you here."

He turned at the voice, wide-faced grin on his face. She looked good, he noted off-handedly, eyeing the dust-yellow long skirt and rust-colored blouse, even if she needed some clue on fashion sense. "Noin! Ha ha! What are you doing in L2, let alone in a place like *this*?"

"Actually," the older woman replied, closing the distance between them, "I'm looking for you."

"And found me you have," Duo quipped, taking the hand she offered and pumping it. "Good to see ya again, though, I got a funny feeling this ain't a social visit." He could tell by the tenseness around her eyes and mouth, he'd nailed it.

"Not completely, no," she admitted.

He turned, offering her to join him on his way through the throng of people converged for the occasion. "So what did you want me for?"

"How would you like to be a Preventer," she came right back at him without a pause.

"The Preventers is it now," Duo pursed his lips, never missing a beat as they moved through the gathered population. "I hear old psycho bitch is running the show."

"If you're referring to Lady Anne, then, yes," Noin replied tightly. Duo didn't miss it. "She, Sally, and I have worked hard to put the Preventers together."

He stopped, turned, and looked at her. For the first time, he noticed he didn't have to look up. "Getting kinda chummy there with your enemies, ain't ya, Miss Noin?"

"Ex-enemies," she corrected, looking him up and down. Still dressed in black, but this time he was wearing a red turtleneck under his jacket. "And we were once enemies, too, if you'll recall."

"Yeah, so we were." Duo nodded and they continued along their way. "So why would you be coming all the way out here to track down one ex-pilot when there must be a slew of pilots looking for work?"

"You're a gundam pilot," she said, as if that explained everything.

The great answer to all the questions in the world: being a gundam pilot. Duo sighed and stopped again.

"The Preventers sounds like governmental stuff to me." He looked over past her shoulder. "Why would *I* be interested in something like that?"

"Because you worked so hard to gain the Peace we're trying to protect," Noin answered without hesitation.

"Oh? It's in danger?"

She was scowling at him; he knew she didn't like his flippant response. "Yes, it's in danger," she hissed. "All the time! Haven't you been watching the news?"

Duo frowned and scratched his chin. "I've been a bit busy here," he answered. He hadn't missed a single nightly broadcasting.

"There are rebels all over the place, Duo--remnants of White Fang and Oz that aren't satisfied with the way the war ended; who aren't satisfied with the way things are going," she told him, her voice low and heated. "If they join together--"

"Have they?" he countered, knowing they hadn't, but sharing the same concern. Not that she had to know that. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone got smart and figured out they'd be more powerful if they joined together.

"No, not yet," she answered. "But it's only a matter of time."

"Hn. Interesting." Duo pursed his lips and looked out to the rounded horizon of the colony. Heero and he had been keeping an eye on the two fractions for the last four months. So far, neither force had made a bad step that would give them the excuse to go in and clean up some trash.

"So you'll help us?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm. "Will you join the Preventers?"

"Nope." He turned to go as if that was the end of the matter. She stared, dumbfounded after him. "Sorry," he called back. "I'm a bit busy here still." He turned and held her with a pointed look. "Why don't you try asking the others?"

"Anne is talking with Trowa herself," the dark-haired woman answered. "And Quatre's working so hard with Miss Relena already..." She shook her head.

"What about Wufei?"

"I was hoping you might know where he is," Noin replied. It was not the answer he expected, so she explained. "No one's seen or heard from him since Christmas. I was hoping you might be able to change that."

Duo looked sad, but he didn't reply.

"And I was hoping that maybe, you might go with me, when I talk to Heero..."

"There's no need," a deep, calm voice answered from behind her.

"Heero!"

"Noin," he replied with a small nod of his head. "It doesn't concern us. Trowa will say 'no', as will Wufei, if you find him."

"You won't help either?" She sounded lost, broken. "I thought *you* of all people would want to help protect the Peace you almost died for..."

"I am," he answered. "Right here," he motioned to the people around them.

"Heero..."

"Duo? Heero?" Hilde ran up to them, breathless, a bright smile on her face. "They're ready for you up front."

"Thanks, Hilde," Duo answered, giving her a wave. "We'll be right there."

"Is there any chance you'll reconsider?" Noin asked, watching the two boys turn away.

"Don't think so," Duo replied, tossing a hand in parting. "But it was good ta see ya again, Noin. Don't be such a stranger, huh?"

As they disappeared into the crowd, Heero's hand slipped against Duo's back. "You heard?" the longhaired pilot asked.

Heero nodded. "Every word."

Duo frowned. "Think we should take a closer look?"

Heero looked up to the stage they were heading to. "Mission Accepted."

"You make me feel all happy and giddy and girlish," announced one night several weeks later as he laid in bed, grinning like a maniac, watching Heero as the Japanese youth worked through a set of stomach crunches.

Heero paused, mid-crunch, and shot his partner an amused look. "Oh, so I'm the guy in this relationship?"

It was the spark to Duo's fuse. The longhaired boy slid off the bed and crawled across the floor towards Heero. Reaching him, Duo ran his hands up Heero's legs-- caressing the calf, cupping the bent knee, before splaying down that extent of thigh, reaching for their goal. They found the other boy hard and ready. "Mmm...." Duo murmured, pulling in close so he could nuzzle Heero's spandex-clad hardness with his face. "You're most *definitely* male, that's for sure."

Heero's head fell back against the floor. "Mmm..." he replied, his hands burrowing into that expanse of silky, chestnut hair.

Duo propped his chin up on Heero's swollen arousal and looked up the stretch of muscular body to Heero's face. "I'd like to think I'd like you just as much if you were a girl, but... the truth is... I'm rather *fond* of your...'male' attributes." Each movement of Duo's jaw as he talked pressed into one of those 'male attributes' he was talking about. Meanwhile, his hands were busy working the waist of those spandex shorts lower so he could get a better look at those... 'male attributes'.

"Mmm, that's good to hear," Heero answered as his erection sprang free from its confinement and smacked Duo in the face. The longhaired youth didn't miss a beat and was already moving to take him in his mouth. "I'm rather attached to them myself," Heero gasped.

Duo reared back--a fact of which the Japanese youth was not pleased with--and stared at his lover. "Heero! You just made a joke!"

Heero pouted at him; Duo just laughed, crawling up his lover's body and hugging him. They rolled all over the floor, laughing, wrestling until lips met lips and they started kissing with hungered, wild abandon. Duo was positioned under Heero, one leg thrown over the other's shoulder, still kissing with savage intent when a knock sounded at the door.

Both pilots froze, look at each other.

'Where you expecting anyone?' the one look asked.

'Do you think we'd be rolling around the floor naked if I was,' the other replied.

Heero shot Duo a look that clearly said, 'Yes,' before retrieving his shorts and a close-at-hand white tee. Duo was on his feet, right behind him, slipping into a pair of black jeans. Both hand their guns in their hands before they left the bedroom.

The knock sounded a second time. Self-assured, strong-willed. That was no timid knock. Duo positioned himself at one side of the door, Heero at the other. With a nod from the other, Duo opened the door--not by much, just enough to see who it was.

He met a black veiled sunhat with a matching black trench coat.

"Are you going to invite me in, Duo Maxwell?"

He frowned. The voice was one he should recognize, but, for the life of him, couldn't place. He stepped back and opened to door for her--it was definitely a female. Surreptitiously, he shot a quick look towards Heero; the other pilot still held his gun.

"Ah, good," she said, removing her black gloves to reveal finely cured hands. "Heero Yuy." She looked up, lifting the veil. "Just the person I was hoping to find."

Heero stepped forward; Duo stepped back, relaxing his hold in his gun--still ready at a moment's notice, though. He didn't have to wait long for that moment.

"Dorothy Catalonia," Heero replied, one firm hand against the door shutting it behind her.

She reached up to remove her hat, smiling down the barrel of the gun Duo held to her. She pulled at a pin that held up her hair; the long, blonde strands unfurled behind her. "Ah! Much better." She turned away from Duo and any threat he might have posed for her and smiled at Heero. "Now, onto business."

She folded her hands in front of her with her hat and clip. "Heero Yuy. I have a proposition for you."

"So you're going to take her up on it?" Duo asked as he set a plate of his newest culinary exploration before his kiobito. 'Kiobito,' it was a new word he'd assigned to Heero. He liked it. Heero didn't seem to mind either if last night was any indication.

Heero looked from his plate to Duo's face. The tiny smile there made him wonder if the food was safe. "Hai, for a little bit, at least," he answered as Duo took his own seat next to him. He poked the food cautiously with his fork. "Duo, what is this?"

"Huh? Oh, chicken teriyaki and yellow Spanish rice," the braided youth answered, already digging into his. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"It shouldn't take too long," Heero replied, tasting his dinner. Mmm, not bad. "If what Dorothy says is true, then they aren't completely incompetent."

Duo pushed some rice across his plate with a fork, mulling. "Ne, Heero?"

"Hmm?" Bright violet-blue eyes turned up to him, and Heero felt a quickening in his being. Tiny shivers racing up and down his body as he was reminded how much he loved this man beside him, and what a miracle that was.

"Do you think you'll be back by Christmas?" Duo asked, chewing on his inside lip.

Heero frowned. "Why?"

"Well..." Duo set his fork down. "I was kinda hoping, you know, we could, make something out of it, you know? Our first Christmas? Our own private celebration...?" He shot the other pilot a *look* that told Heero just what kind of 'celebrating' Duo had in mind.

Heero's frown melted into a knowing smile. "Hai, I think that is a definite."

Duo grinned. "Good. It's a date then."

In the Pale Moonlight by Andrea Readwolf

Part 2 Act FOUR

~Act IV~

Sometimes it was impossible to find--a tiny place removed from the others where he could just sit or lay down and look up at the stars. He could stay like that for hours, turning over the thoughts in his head. After the first couple of times, no one came after him to bring him home. They all knew he'd return before he was needed again.

Tonight was no different from other nights.

Sometime after dark, instead of joining the others for dinner or conversation, he headed out back towards a small woods. Near a large outcropping of rocks, he'd found a spot of fresh, clean grass and laid down, pillowing his head on his upturned palms as he gaze up into an unobtrusive view of space.

It was his training--that part that allowed his mind to split, to be in two places at once--that allowed him to be aware of the other's approach long before he came into view. It was skill that told him who it was.

"Do you always separated yourself from the others?" a soft, slightly nasal voice asked after standing five feet away from him in silence for several minutes.

"Not always," Trowa answered. He tilted his head to the side and looked up at the young, intense man. "Why have you found me?"

Not "how did you find me?" No, it wouldn't be hard for the other to follow a traveling circus, now would it? Not even, "Hi, how are you? Haven't seen you in half a year. You look good." No. There were no... useless civilities between them. There never had been.

"May I?" Heero returned, nodding toward the ground near Trowa. The prone teen didn't answer, just returned his gaze to the stars ahead. For Heero, that was answer enough and the Japanese teen dropped into a comfortable, cross-legged sit next to Trowa.

"I won't believe you left Duo just to come sit under the stars with me, Heero," the cinnamon-haired teen told him after a good five minutes of silent stargazing. Trowa rolled onto his side, propping up an arm and a leg, and *looked* at the quiet teen sitting there. "What is it you need?"

"Can't an old friend drop in on an old friend?" Heero asked calmly, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Not when that 'old friend' happens to be a gundam pilot dropping in on another gundam pilot," Trowa replied evenly. "I've never known you to avoid something, Heero."

"I'm not avoiding," Heero returned, his voice soft. He continued to stare up into the sky and, without having to look, Trowa knew the other was looking in the direction of L2. "Just taking some time out to think."

"How is 03?" he asked with the next breath.

"Safe," Trowa replied.

"Have you made any modifications to the suit?"

Trowa stared at him, expressionless, before admitting, "Some."

"Why?"

The question surprised Trowa--though you wouldn't know it to look at him. When he didn't answer--he didn't know *what* the answer was--Heero embellished his question.

"Gundam is a machine made for mass murder. The war is over. Why make modifications on a machine that is no longer needed?"

Trowa leaned back down and returned to looking up. The colonies of L1 were beginning to rise. For another minute or two, neither teen said a word, and then Trowa asked, "And has Zero remained unmodified, too?"

Searing blue eyes met, clashed, held with flashing green. They both knew Wing Zero was as "unmodified" as HeavyArms.

"You've been watching the newsfeeds."

"Of course."

"Relena Darlian is still in the colonies."

"She has thrown her support into a new rehabitation project to help the homeless and war orphans." Trowa looked back to Heero. "Sounds like a good idea."

Heero nodded. "It is. It's Duo's--he thought of it. He's heading up the first project site in L2." Heero watched Trowa carefully. "With Relena's political support comes WEI's financial support. With her and Quatre, it will succeed."

No response.

"I saw Quatre."

"That's nice." Polite, but distanced.

Heero frowned. "He looks like hell," he told the other teen. After another minute he asked, "Are you sure what you're doing is right? You don't look much better."

Trowa rolled over and stood up in one graceful movement. "I didn't ask you for advice," he reminded the other teen coolly.

"I wasn't offering any." Heero continued to frown, though.

"You still haven't told me why you followed me out here, Heero," Trowa reminded him.

Heero looked at the other boy's back. There was more than he was privy to going on here. "Why did you keep the name 'Trowa'?" he asked, curious. "You told me before you were ~Nanashi~."

There was a small pause.

"I was tired of being a NoName," Trowa answered, looking into the darkness of the woods. It wasn't very deep. He could see the lights bouncing off the circus tents on the other side. "And the people I am living with now are comfortable with 'Trowa'."

Heero though in silence for another minute. "You weren't the original pilot of 03."

Trowa was silent.

"The original pilot was Trowa Barton?"

The tall boy nodded. "He... met with a fatal accident before Gundam could be launched. I offered to fulfill the vacancy he left behind."

"But you were just a mechanic," Heero frowned. "A gundam scientist allowed a no-name to pilot Gundam."

Trowa didn't, couldn't, deny it. "I was qualified."

"What do you know about the original mission of Operation Meteor?"

Trowa turned to faced Heero, his face harder, colder than just its normal expressionlessness. "The idea was to drop a colony on the unsuspecting Earth. A second attack would follow in form of Gundam. To ensure that at least one machine was built successfully, the five original creators of the mobile suit were separated and sent to the five different LaGrange points.

"Gundam was to dominate whatever remained after the colony-drop. Complete genocide."

Heero nodded.

"He had a big mouth," Trowa confided, dropping to a sit near Heero. The other shot him a questioning look. "I think he was trying to... impress me. He would have made a terrible gundam pilot."

Heero looked sad for a moment as a new thought came to him. He reached over and touched Trowa's cheek. "Him too?" he asked softly.

Trowa looked away, not answering.

"I'm sorry."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for."

They fell into another silence, each trapped in their own webs of thought. "Is that why you left Quatre?"

Trowa stiffened but didn't answer.

Heero felt like heaving one of those big, over-done, stage-sighs Duo liked to give.

"I, always... wanted to ask you..." he began again, somewhat hesitantly. "Why?" Trowa looked at him, eyes cold as ice, and Heero clarified. "That first time, when Dr. J brought me with him to L3, and you were there...? And then, again, last year. Why?"

It was Trowa's turn to reach out and touch Heero's cheek. "Because you are beautiful, and have a kind soul. Because I sensed in you a kindred spirit; someone who could understand me, who knew what I have seen and lived; and I wanted to give you something."

Heero's frown increased. "You didn't owe me anything."

Trowa's fingers continued to brush Heero's cheek. "I wanted to."

The other boy seemed to accept this finally and moved on to the matters that had followed him there to this spot. "Ex-White Fang and –Oz soldiers have been busy."

Trowa pulled away. "I noticed."

"The new government is defenseless against them."

"Only if they choose not to defend themselves."

"They'll flounder."

"It's not our place to protect them." A tiny wrinkle formed between his brows as Trowa frowned. "We can't do anything for them."

"Not yet."

"No, not yet," the taller pilot agreed. "Gundam should not get involved unless it is absolutely necessary. And even then..."

Heero nodded. "We are agreed then."

Those words replayed in Trowa's mind three months later as he watched the Head of the Preventers cross the circus grounds in a direct beeline towards him.

"Colonial Trillionaire, Quatre Raberba Winner, to marry former Queen of the World, Relena Peacecraft Darlian," the blond young man read with a flourish.

In front of him, the young woman on the halo-screen was too busy laughing to reply despite several attempts. Quatre folded up the news clipping that one of his sisters had sent him, and placed it to the side of his desk.

"If this is a new method of proposing, Quatre," Relena said, wiping the tears from her eyes, "I must confess, I find it *highly* amusing!"

"Oh? So that means you *won't* marry me, Miss Darlian?" His blue eyes were twinkling with amusement. "Won't the tabloids be *crushed*!" He took of sip of iced water. "Mn. It's a shame. That would have been one *smashing* party."

"Oh, yes, indeed," Relena laughed. "Could you just *imagine* trying to schedule a date?"

"We would *have* to give at least five years advanced warning, just to ensure both our schedules were free," Quatre was quick to reply.

"And the guest list!"

"We'd just have to rent an entire colony for the reception."

"And it would cost an absolutely *fortune*!"

"Ah, but our children would be the most powerful people in the entire Earth Sphere!"

Relena paused and looked at him. "A most *dangerous* coupling, if you ask me."

Quatre wore an almost... *wolfish* grin. "I most *highly* agree, Ms. Darlian."

"So it's agreed then," Relena said in her 'I mean business' tone of voice. "We cannot *possibly* get married."

"Not even remotely."

Relena sighed and fell back into her chair, the joviality of the moment pushed aside by the weight of the world--or, rather, the weight of the colonies. "I don't mind telling you again, Quatre, but I will be so *relieved* when these talks are over. I've never met so many people who are all so needy and yet so unwilling to accept aid."

"They're proud, Relena," Quatre soothed. "That's good. That means they haven't given up hope on life completely yet." He looked off towards an invisible landscape hidden in his office walls. "It might be harder this way, making them learn to do it themselves, but it's better."

" 'No one said that doing what's right is what is easy,'" Relena whispered. "My father used to tell me that, all the time before he went dashing off to a meeting somewhere."

"Mmn. *My* father always told me that I had a responsibility, to my family and to the people of the colonies, to lead by example and protect them."

"I think you've done a very good job doing just that, Quatre," Relena told him softly.

The blond young man sighed. "I wish I could agree with you."

"Quatre! You've *got* to be joking!" Relena was smiling and shaking her head at him. "Because of *you*, other businesses are willing to take a chance here in L2. WEI has brought work to a great many people, Quatre!"

"That's because WEI has its fingers in everyone else's pie," Quatre grimaced.

"I don't envy you your job," Relena admitted.

Quatre smiled back at her. "I don't envy *you* *yours*."

The two young Earth Sphere leaders lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Lady Une has been recruiting members for the Preventers," Relena mused aloud.

"Oh? Good. I'm glad," Quatre replied. "This government needs *some* form of protection. I'm glad the President and other Council members agreed."

"Mmm." Another silence, and then, "Quatre? Would *you* consider joining the Preventers? I mean, after all, you *were* a soldier, a Gundam pilot."

The blonde boy looked at first startled, and then sad. "No, Relena," he answered softly, his voice full of regret. "I... wish it were so easy, and that I could, but..." His blue eyes closed and he bowed his head. "If I wasn't the head of WEI, if I wasn't a gundam pilot... *then* I wouldn't *hesitate* to join, you understand. But..." and he looked up at her. "Because I *am*, I cannot."

"No," Relena was frowning, "I don't understand."

Quatre smiled and fell back into his chair. "It's politics, Relena. That would be throwing too much power into one organization and it would look more like *I* was trying to take over the government rather than protect it. I can't do any more for the Preventers than support them as WEI. The gundams must be left out of it."

The honey-wheat-haired woman frowned. "There's been talk... about the gundams," she admitted.

Quatre's smile turned rueful. "I would have been surprised if there wasn't."

"Quatre..." She watched him closely, watching for a response. "It's going to be a year soon... Our first year of peace..." She hesitated. "Are... the gundams needed anymore?" Nervously she licked her lips. "Almost all the remaining mobile suits have been destroyed or refitted--except the gundams. No one can agree what to do with them..."

'But everyone seems to have a solution,' they both added in their thoughts.

He was silent.

"Quatre... are the... gundams... really necessary anymore?"

She didn't know what else to say and the silence the rose up between them was suffocating.

"I have... thought often on the matter myself," the blond boy whispered after another long moment, not looking at her or anything in particular, but in his mind, he saw Sandrock. He saw the other gundam suits and their pilots--and his heart, that muscle he'd thought he'd deadened to all pain in these past months, clenched painfully.

"Quatre..."

He forced a smile to his face and looked up at her. "Perhaps, as part of the celebrations, we could... destroy the gundams or something. A promise of peace and good intentions."

"Oh, Quatre!"

It was hard to tell which emotion held dominance in her--pain for the pain her friend was obviously feeling, or joy at his understanding at what peace needed and asked of him.

"I can't promise that... the others... will agree, you understand," he rushed to tell her.

"I understand," she whispered, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. "Quatre... thank you."

He looked at her, and offhandedly realized his heart was breaking again--twice in less than a year; this time for the large silver and white machine that had protected him throughout the war and allowed him to protect others. And suddenly, he longed terribly for those days of the war, when everything was so much simpler.

The young woman took the coffee mug he handed her, gratefully, with a soft "thank you." She still wasn't used to the chill of space, she realized as she studied the milky blackened liquid.

He didn't reply--it wasn't necessary--as he took a seat on one of the overturned hay bales. It was neither close nor far from the one she sat on. A comfortable distance of four feet.

"I meant to... talk to you," she began, holding the mug in both hands. She looked up at him with vulnerable eyes. It wasn't a look he liked on her. "Back on MOII," she clarified. "But things were... so crazy. I--"

"I understand," he answered, facing her but not looking at her.

She looked away, her grey eyes downcast, and tucked a piece of mouse-brown hair back behind one ear. "I'm sorry," she whispered on a near-silent breath.

He didn't have to ask what for. "It was a long time ago."

"That doesn't change anything." Her voice was a soft as his, despite the wealth of emotions underneath.

He didn't continue to argue with her. There was no point.

"I'm... glad... you survived," she said after an uncomfortable moment. "I... thought of you."

"There was no need to." It was eerie how... stoic his voice was. "I lived, I moved on." He looked at her then, his dark green eyes pinning her with an intensity that betrayed his voice. "So did you."

"Yes..." she swallowed. "We lived." Her eyes swept over him, comparing what she saw before her to the image she had carried around with her for years. "I didn't recognize you at first."

"You weren't yourself when we met again."

She smiled and looked at her hands in her lap. "You mean I was 'crazy' at the time," she replied.

His visible green eye seemed to swirl with color. "Not crazy," he rebuked, his voice gentle. He reached out and touched her jaw. "I'm glad you lived, Middi."

"Anne," she corrected with a sad smile. "Middi is actually my mother's family name. Please call me Anne."

He nodded. "Anne."

"Then... you've forgiven me?" she asked, hopeful.

He pulled his hand away and looked off towards the lion cages. "You were only following orders... Anne."

"Those orders resulted in your friends being killed," she countered.

The thought briefly of the men who had... raised him. "I had no friends there."

"Trowa, I--" She still thought of him as that little boy, Nanashi, she had met so many years ago...She sighed and resisted the urge to shake her head. She'd come here now for a reason. "You were always good at what you do."

"You mean killing people?" She missed the hint of amusement in his voice.

"No! I mean, understanding people, seeing the truth behind their masks," she hastily corrected. "There were days... days I was *sure* you could see right through me... That you knew why I was really there..."

"I did." She stared at him, startled, confused. One shoulder rose and fell in a little, half-shrug. "But I wanted to believe you, so I convinced myself I was wrong." He looked directly at her, his harsh gaze burning into her. "So you see, I am even more responsible for their deaths."

She didn't know what to say to that.

"When I realized it was you," she said softly, staring cautiously at him, "I wondered if you'd found me in order to kill me."

He didn't say or do anything to deny it.

Nervously, Anne licked her lips and cleared her throat. "And then I remembered the reports about the gundam pilot being a 'child'." She studied him for any reaction. She didn't know what to expect--even before, he'd never been one to be very... open about his emotions. But since then... it was like he didn't have any emotions or feelings to express at all.

"You accepted my application believing I might have been an enemy spy?"

Anne shook her head and offered a weak smile. "No, *hoping* you were." She looked down into her cooling coffee. "Master Treize was already changing the rules by which we were playing. Things changed when he... lost Zechs Marquise... and then, Romerfeller was becoming more vocal in how OZ was being run. You see, Master Treize had been given a free hand where the Organization of the Zodiac was concerned, but it was only meant to be Romerfeller's puppet. His Excellency was powerful, however, and held influence over the soldiers under him... which could easily overthrow Romerfeller just as it had the former Federation Alliance.

"Duke Dormail understood the threat that represented and tried to force His Excellency's hand. He underestimated Master Treize. As you know, he resigned as OZ's leader, casting the organization into a division of loyalties."

Anne smoothed out an invisible wrinkle from her plain blue-grey suit-skirt, and then looked up. He was watching her intently, and she was relieved to know that she at least had his attention. "His Excellency was... fascinated by Gundam and its pilots. He respected the soldiers who fought against such unbeatable odds, and won. He always restrained my hand when dealing with them... with you. I didn't understand why until later, when I came to space as an OZ representative."

"And what did you understand?" Trowa asked, his voice showing only polite interest.

Her eyes searched his face, wondering if his question was even remotely sincere, but then deciding it didn't matter. Anne straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. "His Excellency wanted you to win. Not space or the colonies against Earth. *You*. Gundam and its pilots. He knew, before any of us, that you were fighting for what was right and good--not just for space and the colonies."

"But we *were* fighting for the colonies," he calmly reminded her.

Anne smiled and, slowly, shook her head. "Mmnn. If that was true, then you would have joined with White Fang against the Earth Sphere troops, and not the other way around."

He didn't deny it. He couldn't.

"So you've come to space to ask my forgiveness and explain Treize Khushrenada's motives during the war."

Anne's smile softened. "And Nicholas thought you didn't have a sense of humor," she said into her coffee cup.

"Nicholas didn't like me much."

"No, he was convinced you were a spy."

"He was right."

Anne's eyes twinkled as she looked up at him. "I know. That's just one of the reasons I never dismissed him for his insubordination." She sighed. "And you're right. I came here to ask you to become an agent for the Preventers. I know it's selfish for me to ask you, but we could really use your help and expertise. With your skill and talent we--"

"No."

"What?" She blinked, jerking back with the short, cold answer.

"No." Trowa stood. "I'm sorry, Anne. I can't help you or the Preventers."

"You can--but, Trowa--?"

He nodded goodbye to her and then turned and walked away, not once looking back.

He was in hiding.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. If he was *really* in hiding, no one would be able to find him, and right now, if anyone *really* wanted to, they could reach him in at least three different ways...

No, he wasn't really in hiding, but he had needed to get away. Away from WEI, away from his sisters, away from his life--a death trap he'd looked up one day to realize he was in.

And what better place to retreat to than his beloved Sandrock?

Only... he wouldn't have this luxury soon... Not if what he'd talked with Relena about came to pass. Quatre couldn't imagine his life without the indestructible mobile suit. Or, more appropriately, he didn't want to.

But he knew Relena had a point. The gundams weren't needed anymore... there was no reason to keep them and every reason to destroy them...

What would the others think about that...? What would they say....?

In the last year, the only one he'd seen with regularity was Heero--and the normally quiet boy had even less to say to him now that he was working for Relena's security.

Quatre sighed. For the first time in nearly a year, the blond boy wanted to reach out and *touch* the other pilots; to feel their presence, their stolid comforting being, near him... to feel *outside of himself*... and he dropped his tightly held guard and allowed himself to *feel*...

Quatre Raberba Winner was special. He had a... sensitivity... for the world around him. He could... *sense* others... their emotions or intentions, sometimes even their thoughts. On rare occasions, by sheer will alone, the blond boy could make things happen.

But no gift came without a curse. The sensitive blonde was prone to powerful migraines that had left him unconscious on occasions. If someone was hurting, Quatre easily picked up on the sufferer's pain, and worse, suffered with them. It was just one reason why the boy hating hurting anyone. It always hurt worse, knowing he'd *caused* another pain.

There had only been one time in his whole remembrance that Quatre *hadn't* hurt from the death surrounding him---that had been when he'd used Wing ZERO to destroy a colony. Quatre didn't know if that was due to ZERO's influence or because he was already so filled with pain and rage at the time... Quatre didn't like to think often about that time.

The blond boy didn't know how to use his gift--he didn't understand it very well. He only knew it was a part of him, and always there. Sometimes he could feel it more strongly than others. Growing up, his father had always stressed "acting normal". Normal children didn't have special powers like Quatre did, so in an effort to please his father, Quatre learned to repress his gift. That couldn't stop certain occurrences from happening though--especially if the blond boy was overly emotional for some reason.

Mr. Winner just didn't understand his son's sensitivity. The two were cut from a different cloth. Now, a year after his death, Quatre could understand that and forgive his father for transgressions the boy hadn't even been aware he held against the man. He had loved the man so much--desperately. He had desperately craved to be loved in return. It was something Mr. Winner hadn't been able to give him.

There were only four other persons who outshone Quatre's affections for his father. Most especially, one...

Sitting in Sandrock's cockpit, drifting out in the emptiness of space, Quatre shed the layers of walls he'd built around himself and opened his heart to the world beyond.

It was like being hit by a tsunami. He gulped down a large breath, forcing his suddenly racing pulse to calm. After a moment, he was able to focus more intently and ease the roiling emotions and thoughts surrounding him into a low, controllable din. It took another moment before he could feel it--that steady throb of life.

Even out here, in the emptiness of space, he could feel it. It throbbed in rhythm to his own heartbeat. He'd always referred to it as his space heart. Now he centered that energy on his friends.

Heero... Duo... He could feel them... their pleasure and love...

Quatre's breath caught, his entire body washing over in a pleasurable, fiery rush, and the blond boy pulled back quickly before he followed them into an orgasm. He was panting inside the solitary confinement of Sandrock's cockpit, flushed with excitement and embarrassment. Still... he was happy for his two friends.

'Friends?' a tiny voice mocked. 'You haven't even seen Duo in a year, and you barely even talk to Heero--how can you call them your friends?'

Quatre leaned his head back against the headrest, smiling as he recovered his breathing. 'They are all still my friends, though we can't be together as often as I would like... That is partially my fault too...'

Together as often... Heero had mentioned something about no one knowing where Wufei was. Now, after his pulse had calmed and his breathing had evened out, he turned his attention towards the Chinese pilot, reaching out to brush against the other boy's presence.

He was surprised when he found his path blocked. It was like the other boy was wrapped tightly in a protective cocoon, cut off from the rest of the world. Quatre frowned. He couldn't break through the shield, he didn't know how and didn't know what that might do to Wufei. He'd encountered something similar when the other boy was meditating and Quatre left him alone with only the reassurance that the other pilot was alive.

Finally, the blond boy turned his gift towards the last member of their team... He reached out to touch the soul of the boy who had stolen his heart.

Sadness. Loneliness. A faint hint of pain.

Quatre clutched at his chest, two tears falling over his cheeks.

"Trowa....."

Trowa was in the hanger where Heavyarms was secured. The song Heero had given him--compliments from Duo--on the mysterious boy's last visit pumped out from the gundam's speakers. Duo had meant the song--a little ditty titled "Cathy's Clown"--to be some kind of joke, of course, but Trowa found he sort of liked the song... even if his sister didn't.

The circus had returned to the colonies again as, Catherine explained, it did every fall. Earth during the holiday season wasn't very much in the mood for a circus. Trowa didn't mind. Although he spent a majority of his life on Earth, the young gundam pilot liked space. Plus it allowed him plenty of time to work on his mobile suit. Currently, he was trying to adjust the gundam's... weight problem.

If his modifications were correct, then the heavy mobile suit would be as maneuverable as a paperclip--a vast improvement over what he'd had to work with a year ago. Of course, he had no way of testing his modifications--there was no place in the colonies big enough with enough gravitational force that was unpopulated to boot, and Trowa had no inclination to ship the gundam down to Earth just to test it.

With any luck, he wouldn't ever need to use the modifications... but experience had taught the boy to hope for the best, while expecting the worse. It was a resolution that left little to surprise him.

Trowa sighed, hanging his hands over the railing, crossed at the wrists, and resting his head against his arms. The last time he'd talked to Heero, the other boy had filled him in on some things.

For one, Duo's orphanage was almost complete. Trowa was happy for the braided boy and his lover. They had both worked hard to achieve their goal.

For another, it seemed Wufei was missing--something that he shared Heero's concern about. It wasn't good for a gundam pilot to be *missing*--especially from another gundam pilot. But, then again... if the boy didn't want to be found, then there was nothing Heero or he could do about it.

And, lastly, "Quatre..."

With Heero's new position as chief of security for Relena's personal troop of bodyguards, the Japanese boy was in constant contact with the blond business man... and he just *had* to share any information with Trowa.

He'd asked the other pilot *why* he insisted on talking about the blond, blue-eyed boy. Heero had looked right at him and said, "He's a gundam pilot, too, Trowa."

Trowa didn't feel like arguing with Heero. It didn't help that the golden boy dominated his nights... but now he couldn't even avoid him during his day.

Heero obviously thought Trowa was wrong in staying away from Quatre--but he hadn't said anything on the matter since that first visit months ago. Trowa was grateful for that at least.

Quatre... The blond boy was amazing. From the very first, Trowa had been taken with him, confused by him. There was just... something... about... him... Trowa didn't know what it was. No other person had touched him that deeply. He didn't understand it, and it scared him.

Why? After almost a year? Why was the other boy's memory still haunting him...

It had been a mistake. He realized that from the first. He should have never slept with the blond, blue-eyed boy. That night in San Francisco... It had been wrong. If he'd bothered to pay more attention to the other boy, he would have realized that, instead of acting on rote.

But... no one had every offered him something before without ever expecting anything in return... And... what with his staying with the blond boy at his desert home while the boy's people fixed his suit for him... and then, meeting in San Francisco like that, and the boy offering to share his room...

He had thought... He had thought wrong, that's what he had thought.

It was so completely different. Trowa hadn't been prepared for it.

At first... he'd believed... he'd thought... He was prepared to sleep on the couch, out in the common area of the rich suite. But then... Quatre had looked hurt and offered the bed.

"There's plenty of room. It's a big bed," the boy had said, and Trowa had known...

Or, rather... he had *thought* he'd known... he'd been wrong... but that couldn't be changed now. He'd done what he thought... He'd striped and gone to the bed, and waited. He knew what to expect.

He thought he knew what to expect.

There had been stunned silence. When the other boy didn't... *do* anything... Trowa looked up over at him, wondering... Why?

His blond prince was staring at him, and Trowa worried he'd done something wrong. Perhaps the boy preferred to undress him himself? But, slowly, Quatre had smiled at him and asked, "Do you always sleep naked, Trowa?"

He'd approached the bed then, staring, not touching. From the look in those bright blue eyes, Trowa had known he hadn't missguessed his purpose for being there that night. Or, he had *thought* he hadn't...

Quatre was breathless when he'd told Trowa how beautiful he was. Trowa didn't argue; he knew it wasn't true, but if that's what the other boy wanted to think, let him.

:::::::: :::::::: :::::::: ::::::::

"May I?" Quatre breathed, reaching out to touch the toasted cream-colored skin and hesitating.

Trowa looked at him, confused at why he'd asked permission, but nodded anyway.

It was like electricity.

Quatre's fingertips, brushing over his middle, spreading out until his entire hand rested against Trowa's stomach. Trowa gasped at the contact. Quatre murmured his name, those blue eyes of his drifting shut as he seemed to concentrate on the touch. A pool of lava seemed to originate out of that touch and spread like wildfire all throughout Trowa's body. He was caught up in it, drowning in it---and all from just one little touch.

"Trowa..." Quatre breathed before leaning over and brushing his lips over the prone boy.

For the first time in his life, without being told to, Trowa returned someone's kiss. He parted his lips under Quatre's gentle pressure, his tongue swiping out across Quatre's lips. The blond boy moaned, his lips opening for Trowa, and quite suddenly, two bodies were rolling over the bed as mouths mated in a hot, frenzied kiss.

Trowa rode Quatre's thigh as the other boy squeezed his ass, rubbing that leg deliciously against him. He was lost in a haze of never-before-felt desire, and all for the blond boy in his arms. They rolled again until Quatre was on top. Trowa spread his legs for the boy, bringing their hard penises into direct contact. Quatre moaned, Trowa groaned.

"I want you."

"Please."

"I don't have anything."

"I don't care."

Quatre's panting breath was hot and moist against Trowa's ear as the blond boy positioned himself. "I'm sorry," he whispered right before he thrust forward, filling Trowa with his burning sex. They screamed--it was like the act hurt the blond boy more than it did Trowa.

For moments that seemed to last a lifetime, neither one of them moved, straining against the pounding of desire that urged them on.

He wanted. Oh, stars! He wanted!

"Please... Quatre..."

It was like being flooded. Trowa felt like he was swimming in an ocean of pure emotion. Not just pain or pleasure... so much more. More than he could even begin to understand to explain. When his release came, several minutes later, it was more intense than any he'd experienced until that time. Quatre was right there with him, filling him with his seed... with his love...

:::::::: :::::::: :::::::: ::::::::

Trowa hadn't understood it at the time. He'd thought it a fluke.

When he'd rolled away from the other boy, too confused, too caught up in that new experience to pay attention to the other's desire to cuddle--he wasn't used to cuddling after copulations--Quatre had been upset.

"I'm sorry, Trowa," he'd immediately apologized. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Would you like me to get you some painkillers? Or some soothing lotion?"

"I'm fine," he had told the boy--which only succeeded in making the blond feel more hurt, but that was the truth. Trowa had suffered much worse from other copulations. At least he wasn't bleeding... or, at least, not too badly.

Trowa had sat up, intending to return back to the couch now, but Quatre was suddenly near hysterical, apologizing and, Trowa realized, crying.

"I'm sorry, Trowa, I didn't mean--I mean, I didn't want--Oh, Allah! I'm sorry, Trowa, I'm so sorry! Please--"

Stunned, Trowa had turned to the boy, wrapping him up in his arms to try and stop, or at least calm, the other boy's crying. He wasn't able to understand much from the other boy's babbling, but from what he had, he'd realized he'd again misjudged the blond boy. He'd managed to calm the other boy and reassure him by agreeing to hold Quatre. The blond soon fell asleep, and Trowa had followed him, feeling even more confused.

The next morning, they'd done it again. Trowa had convinced himself it *had* been a fluke... but it wasn't. Although their technique was less hurried in the morning, it was no less intense. And with that intensity came the strong desire to *protect* the blond boy!

And that was just utterly ridiculous! After all, Quatre was a *Gundam* pilot! He didn't *need* protecting...

He decided he needed to be away from the other boy. It was just as well for him to follow Wufei after that disastrous mission. And it gave him a chance to test one of his theories. Trowa wondered if it was *Quatre*... or just himself... If, maybe, something in *him* had changed... Something that made sex all of a sudden, *incredibly* pleasurable.

He used Wufei, yes, but with benefits to them both. The Chinese pilot was emotionally beaten after his... encounter with the leader of OZ. Sex was a very powerful weapon... and tool. And if the other pilot wasn't completely himself again when he left Trowa's circus early the next moment, he was no longer suicidal, either.

And, Trowa had his answer.

Sex with Wufei had been good. Better than sex had normally been. So something in him *had* changed.

But...

It was nowhere *near* as spectacular as it had been with Quatre.

Trowa found himself making excuses to visit the blond boy. It wasn't often they'd get missions together... And then, when the scientists were taken... it was a period when no missions were coming in at all. And that was fine, because, at the time, Trowa was busy helping Heero mend. Trowa didn't tell Quatre that Heero was still alive. He didn't want to other to hurt if the Japanese boy never woke up.

But Heero did wake up. And then they'd all gone to space. And they'd all come together for a brief time before separating again.

Trowa would have been sure the time apart would have made a difference. But then, at the time, Trowa had amnesia... It didn't matter. Their time apart didn't make the feelings the other boy caused in him to go away or lessen... If anything, they grew. Trowa would have stopped it then and there... If he could've. If he hadn't convinced himself that there wasn't a point, since he probably wouldn't be living past the end of the war anyway.

But he did.

And suddenly, he couldn't run anymore. He had to face the truth.

And the truth was--he cared too much about the blond boy than was possible or safe. The truth was, he'd become too attached to the blond boy. The truth was, he'd deceived himself into thinking he could handle the affections and attachments Quatre wanted from him.

The Truth was... he was terrified.

Trowa had always known his body wasn't his own... but he'd thought he'd at least had *some* claim on his heart and soul.

That was... until he'd crawled into Quatre Raberba Winner's bed one night, and woke up the next morning to discover the blond boy really did 'have it all'.

Quatre ended the recording and fell back into his executive chair, drained. Absently, he pulled at his lip with a forefinger and thumb, just staring at the space in front of him. Right there in front of him was the little button that would send his recording across space to the other four gundam pilots.

In his head, the words of the recording played themselves over and over.

"Hello," Quatre smiled--that soft, almost shy smile of his. "I hope this finds you all well." And then his face had hardened into the one his associates were more accustomed to. "As I record this, I am sure you are already aware of the preparations for the one year celebration of the end of the war. As a silent part of the festivities, I have procured a shuttlecraft." He'd paused, his next words tasting rancid in his mouth. "I intend to send Sandrock into the sun." Again, another pause as he stared directly at the viewer. "There... is... enough room on the GMG for four more." He'd swallowed and cleared his throat. "Attached are the coordinates where the GMG is docked. I..." His face softened again. "I hope to soon you all again."

End Recording.

Short. Precise. No flowery, flowingly emotional comments.

They had been some of the hardest words to say in all of his young life.

The decision to send Sandrock into the sun was not an easy one, and one that had haunted him for the last six weeks. And now---

Quatre hit 'SEND' before he could second guess himself.

At almost exactly the same moment, his intercom buzzed. Quatre jumped.

"Yes, Angela?" he called, clearing his throat.

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's a young lady on the phone asking for you."

"Who?"

"She wouldn't give me her name, sir, but she looks like one of your sisters."

"I understand. Please put her through." Some of his sisters had been calling and teasing his secretaries. He could already guess who it was--

Any guess would have been wrong.

"Hello, Quatre Raberba Winner," the short, spiky-haired blonde woman greeted him the second their lines connected.

"Miss Behr," he quickly recovered. "What can I do for you?"

He could see how Angela could believe Blaire Behr was one of his sisters--her coloring was that of all the Winner siblings, and even her features were much like his own. He wondered why he hadn't noticed before--other than that there was a war going on at the time.

"You can meet me at these coordinates." His printer flared to life. "At the specified time and date."

He glanced over the hot sheet of paper before returning his look to her. "And the reason?"

"You may bring whomever you like, but I would bring only someone you would trust your life to," she said, ignoring his question. "We await you at the Sands."

" 'We'?" he asked. " 'The Sands'?" But the connection had already been broken.

Quatre stared at the space where the halo-image had been, rocking back and forth in his chair, thinking. After about five minutes, he made his decision.

In the Pale Moonlight by Andrea Readwolf

Part 3 Act FOUR

~Act IV~

~~~Everything was perfect. It was a wonderful wet and rainy day and she was walking through it with her Mommy and her Daddy, swinging from their arms. Mommy was smiling at her, her beautiful white dress glimmering in the dark rain. Daddy was smiling at her, looking very handsome in his uniform. The click of their heels against the pavement echoed with her tiny feet splashing into puddles. Her laughter rose up and melded with theirs...

"Be good, my darling, and one day you will travel to Earth," her Mommy said, kneeling down beside her. She brushed a kiss over her cheek and then pulled away. "We must go now. You must be strong for me, my darling."

"No! Mommy! Please don't leave me!" she cried, reaching up for the beautiful woman, only belatedly realizing she'd dropped her father's hand and now he stepped away too. "Daddy!"

"Be strong, little one," his voice told her, those smooth, cultured tones warming her, soothing her. "Be strong..."~~~

The petite redheaded child sniffled and curled in around her pillow, hiding her tears in its soft, cottony texture.

"Mommy... Daddy..."

The cold water was more like frozen as it washed over his head and shoulders, down his body to the pool at his ankles. Though his body shivered, he did not move. The water rushing over him felt good--felt like it was washing his spirit clean. He could stay like that for hours. In fact, he had.

When the old man called to him, he wanted to ignore him, but the old man was not one to be ignored.

"You should come out now," the giant bald man called above the rushing falls. "I have prepared some tea."

Two onyx eyes blinked open and Wufei looked over at him. Master O was standing at the edge of the pond, arms folded behind his back, face impassive, watching him. They stood like that, staring at one another for several minutes... until O nodded. Wufei stepped out from under the falls and waded across the small pool of mountain water. O held out a robe for the young man and then turned away to head back towards the retreat.

Wufei wrapped the warm cloth around his naked, shivering body and then followed his former sensei. Neither man said a word as they sat down at the simple, low wooden table where two porcelain teacups waited for them.

"You have been searching for answers," O said after the young serving man had placed rice cakes at their table and left them with more tea. "Have you found any yet, Chang Wufei?"

The young man was silent, having nothing he wanted to say to his former sensei.

"Are you still trying to starve yourself?" O continued after a moment of silence. He pushed the plate of rice cakes towards Wufei. "You cannot have a healthy spirit, if you do not have a healthy body."

"I am not hungry," Wufei answered, staring down at his tea.

His long, dark hair was even longer from lack of trimming and from being wet. It hung around his tanned shoulders in drying clumps--but at least it was clean. His face was still shallow, but not starved hollow. His skin, scrubbed clean from the layers of months of grit and grime was a much healthier, darker shade of caramel from the hours he'd spent out in the neighboring fields. The last two months had been good for him, and O nodded in satisfaction.

The boy was recovering, but there was still much damage to be healed. He knew, even before he'd chosen the boy as the pilot of Shenlong, that if he was to survive, then there would be much to face and overcome in the 'afterwards'. Sometimes karma did not wait for the next lifetime. Sometimes a person lived more than one life in the span of only years. This he anticipated with his young prodigy.

This was why he searched the boy out. This was why he had brought the boy here, back to Earth. Back to his native country.

He forced the boy into a routine, one which Wufei fell into readily, with little resistance. It was like the boy was begging to be told what to do. Osiris understood that need. It was a need to not have to think for oneself. If you were told to sit, you sat; told to eat, you ate; told to mediate, you let your mind go blank.

Only... after so much blankness... thoughts began to form... began to bubble up and make themselves known. That was the true catharsis of mediation. It healed by forcing thoughts to simplify. So much more than that. If only given enough time...

But Osiris didn't know how much time they had. He could see that Wufei was already healing--but there was so much the boy had to deal with. The loss of his wife, his family, his home... the loss of his sense of purpose. He tried to help the boy, but there was only so much he could do for him.

O pushed the plate of rice cakes towards Wufei again. This time, the boy took one.

"Thanks, H," Garret said, looking over the coordinates again. "Are you sure she's there?"

"No," the other man replied across the viewscreen, tweaking one end of a mustache between his fingers. "But that is were she could be last located. It is your best chance."

"Thanks again. G out." The view-screen faded to black.

"She might not want to talk to you, you know," Howard mentioned, moving a piece on the game board. Garret didn't reply. "I'm heading down over to the bar again tonight. You wanna come?" No answer. "Hey, Gary? You okay?"

"Do you ever have regrets?" the younger brother asked, sitting on the couch, staring at the blank view-screen.

Howard's hand hovered over the game board. "Regrets?" He made a move. "Sure, I've had some, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"Do you ever regret not getting married or having a family or living a normal life?" Garret questioned.

"Normal? Bah! Normality's just a symptom of Mediocrity, and I hate being mediocre," his brother answered. Howard folded his hands, elbows resting on the table, and looked at his brother. "What's this all about, Garret? You having regrets over something?"

"I just... wonder what things would be like if it had been different..."

"Different how?"

"I don't know... if I had gotten married... had children..."

"Sam did that," Howard pointed out. "And look what it got him. Practically the same boat as you."

Garret was silent for a moment. "Did you... ever think about getting married, Howard?"

"What? An old confirmed bachelor like me?" Howard sat up and returned his attention to his game. "What would I want to go do a thing like that for?"

"What about Maddie?"

"What about 'er?" Howard moved another piece, watching for the computer's next move and planning his own. "Nice woman. Good woman."

"You ever think about marryin' her?"

Howard realized his mistake too late. "Bonzai" the computer chimed. "Now look at what you've made me do! And why would I want to do a thing like that?" he asked his brother, swiveling in his chair.

"You mean to say you've never thought about getting married? Settling down, raising a bunch of kids or something?" Garret peered at him with that beady look of his.

"I ain't never said that, exactly," Howard replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just, I've always been a busy man, Gar. Not much room in my life for a wife or family, you know?"

"You could have... but you didn't..." Garret looked away, towards the front door. "J was the only one of us, out of all of us... I can't stop wondering why..."

Howard got up and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeeze. "When it's meant to happen, it'll happen. That's all there is to it. You just have to wait for it and keep an open heart."

He'd been holed up in there for days, refusing to come out, refusing to stop until he could get it all out, get it to make sense. Most of the words were just blurred scribbles on the yellow pages, but at the time of writing, they'd all made sense.

It was a headache, a pain, pressing against his brain, pounding against the walls of his skull, trying to get out. His eyes hurt from the strain; his nose ran unchecked; his lips, dry and cracked despite--or because of--repeated wetting, licking as he pushed onward, trying to get it all out.

By the end of the fourth day, when the Chinese pilot still refused to come out or eat, a servant was sent after Master O.

The scientist pushed open the door without knocking... and felt his heart ache. He felt like he was stepping back into that pigsty from months before. What had happened? He'd thought the boy had been making progress?

Looking around at the burned out puddles of wax, loose sheets of paper everywhere... "This place is disordered. Your father would not be pleased if he were to see this room."

He regretted the words the minute they left his mouth.

"My father," the boy hissed, "is dead. He won't be seeing anything."

Osiris was saddened by those words more. "That is where you are wrong," he replied gently. "Though his body may be dead, that does not mean his spirit does not watch over you." And then he decided, since he'd already gone this far, to twist the blade farther, and force the boy once again to face himself, his fears, his pain, his weakness. "Merien would not approve of this place either."

Papers flew up in the air, a candle tipped over, slipping more wax onto the dirt floor, continuing to burn, as Wufei whirled on the larger man, enraged. "You have no right to speak to me! Not of my wife, or my father, not of anything! Or do you forget? The war is over, Master. You no longer have control over my decisions!"

The young man was panting with his rage and in the light let in through the doorway, Osiris could see the stains of tears left over his cheeks. He wanted to go to the boy, embrace him and tell him he was strong, stronger than he should ever have a reason to be. He wanted to tell him that he was proud of the boy, and that his mother, and his father, and his wife and clan were proud of him, too. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"I have never had control over your actions, Chang Wufei," he told the boy instead. "All I could ever hope to do was influence them."

"Your reign of 'influence' had ended," Wufei snarled, scrubbing the back of his hand across his face and turning away. "There is nothing more I wish to know from you."

"I am sorry to hear that." And he was. There was so much...

"I bet you are."

"Wufei..." There was so much... "I am sorry for your pain and loss, my son," he said finally, knowing the words could never be enough.

"Don't." His body was tensed, quivering from the strain of emotion surging through his spirit with no outlet. "Don't call me 'your son'. And *don't*," he said, turning his face sideways to glare back at the man, "feel sorry for me. It's not too late to finish what should have been done months before and kill you."

"You don't want to kill me--if I thought that, I would let you." Osiris folded his hand in front of him. "You just want to kill your pain. And my death will not achieve that."

Wufei looked back away. "Right now it seems like a very good place to start."

"Then do so and have done with it."

Wufei whirled on the man with a cry of rage. Osiris deflected the attack and those that came after it. Blow after blow, kick after kick, all raining down on him, seeking to attack the pain and suffering, seeking the end. Osiris made all too easy a target for the young man to vent upon.

It seemed like minutes, but was in reality, more like hours, before the last of the young man's reserves gave out and he crumpled to the floor, a heaving heap, spirit lost and broken. Osiris kneeled down before him and placed one large hand over the boy's lowered head and stayed with him until his tears ran dry.

She sat in the large chair behind the desk kicking her legs happily against the legs. As she sat, she made sure her back was straight, her shoulders back, her head held high, her arms placed perfectly over the chair's arms--just like Dekim had instructed her.

Her studies for the day were complete--a fact that made her extremely happy--and Dekim had promised her a treat. He hadn't told her what it was yet. No, she was to find that out soon, and she could barely stand the excitement.

Her tiny legs froze in mid-swing when the door opened. "Ah! Mariemeia! There you are, good. Now I won't have to send someone out to find you."

The redheaded child smiled up at her grandfather. She knew he would want her here, waiting for him. That's why she was ready and waiting for his arrival. She was happy she'd pleased him. "Yes, Dekim. You said you have a treat for me?"

"A treat?" He frowned until he seemed to remember what she was referring to. "Ah, yes, yes. It seems our Mr. Grayson has finally pulled through, Ms. Mariemeia," Dekim said proudly. "He has located the position of two gundam pilots for us."

"Only two?" It was the wrong thing to have said--she could tell by the look in Dekim's eyes and she hastened to recover her good standing with the older man. "He has had enough time to find *all* of them, has he not?"

Bingo.

"Yes," Dekim agreed sourly. "However, time draws nearer and we must make do with the resources at hand. Five gundams would have been ideal, but for our plans, we need only one."

Mariemeia nodded. "Of course," she answered, only mildly disappointed that she wouldn't get to meet all of her gundam pilots.

He worked the final coat of shine onto the already gleaming surface of Altron. He studied the plate before him for any trace of blemish or smudge.

"You are unwise to sneak up on a gundam pilot," he said, swiping at an imaginary streak on the blue haul.

"I'm sorry," a man's voice replied, sounding at once, confident and petrified. "It was not my intent to 'sneak'."

It amused him, and he turned to look at the man who had dared approach the demon machine known as gundam. He already knew it couldn't have been one of the villagers--even the children stayed away from his Nataku, no matter how curious they were. And from his voice, he knew the man was not Chinese.

He was right, of course. The man was pale-faced, European, colonial probably from the lack of tan. The business suit was not suited to climbing the mountain Nataku was hidden upon and despite the chilly weather, the man sweated profusely. Wufei felt his amusement sour into disgust as he watched the man pant and mop his forehead with a cloth.

"Leave. You have no business here." He turned back to his Nataku.

"Forgive me, Master Chang," the man gasped. "But I have a message for you. Here."

Wufei wanted to rail at the man, the shock of being called "Master Chang"... No. "Master Chang" was his father, not him. He was no master...

And then he saw the envelope the man held out to him. There was something about it that...

He reached out and took it from the man, staring at the large "M" emblem on its surface.

"I'm thinking of going back to work in the forces," Howard said one night over a game of billiards.

"Oh, you *must* be joking," his brother replied, watching him line up and sink two balls.

"Why do ya say that?" the shagged man asked eyeing the table for his next shot.

"You left the fleet because you said it was too 'strict' for your tastes, remember?" Garret pushed him out of the way to make his own shot. He managed to sink the cue ball. "That was right before you up and joined a bunch of space pirates."

"We're called 'scavengers', not 'pirates', Gar, and I still don't see what that has to do with anything." He shot and missed.

"What would you be doing anyway?" Garret chalked up his stick. "Aren't all military forces supposed to be retired?"

"All except one." Howard took a gulp from his draft.

"One?" Garret scratched again.

"Uh huh. Eight ball, corner pocket."

Garret was already reaching for the rack. "Which one would that be?"

"They're called the 'Preventers'," Howard replied, rolling the remaining balls on the table down towards Garret and chalking up his stick.

"Oooh. Fancy."

"Yep." Howard smacked his lips. "A couple of girlies I had the pleasure of working with during the war are heading it up. I thought I might head over there and offer them some of my... expertise." He broke, the balls scattering across the table.

"You'd actually consider going back and doing something like that, huh?" Garret actually got a ball in and got to go again.

"I don't know." Howard tipped his bottle and motioned the waitress for another one. "I was thinking about it."

"What about your apartment?" Garret leaned back and watched his brother sink three balls consecutively and wink at the smiling waitress as she brought them each another bottle.

"You can have it," Howard shrugged. "Good neighborhood. Find yourself that wife you were talking about and get yourself a couple of kids. It'd do you good. I know how much ya like kids and all."

"I don't need your charity, Howard." Garret struck the cue ball with enough force to send it jumping off the table. Howard went to retrieve it.

"It's not charity. You're family." He slapped the white ball into Garret's hand. "Try again."

"I think you're crazy," his little brother replied.

"Yeah, well, that makes the both of us."

"Welcome, Wufei Chang, welcome!" the bearded man greeted grandiose-like, moving towards the smaller Chinese young man who had entered his office. The bearded man who was dressed funny with a silly feathered hat moved to clasped his shoulders. Wufei easily stepped back and away, avoiding any touch what-so-ever with the man.

The bear continued to smile, though he dropped his paws and stepped back away from Wufei. "Come, come!" he said, motioning towards his desk and a chair seated in front of it. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"I prefer to stand, thank you," Wufei replied, folding his arms behind him, legs shoulder-width apart.

There was an almost shy knock at the door as Dekim Barton moved around the desk to take his own seat. "Come in!" he called, arranging himself in his chair. He looked up and his smile turned... almost manic, Wufei noted. "Ah, Mariemeia! How good of you to join us. Please, take a seat. I would like to introduce you to Wufei Chang, a gundam pilot."

Wufei's eyes thoroughly inspected her from head to sole and back again. When he meet her sparkling blue eyes he noted the amusement found there in. 'Interesting,' he couldn't help but think.

"You are Chinese?" the girl asked in a surprisingly authoritative voice.

"I am," he replied with a slight nod of his head.

"Pilot of Gundam 05, then," she said with a certainty.

"You have been studying, I see."

She smiled. "It is wise to be well informed of those who are your allies, and even more well-informed of those who would be your enemies."

"Those are wise words for one so young," Wufei commented.

Her smile turned sad, though it did not falter. "They were my father's."

"Ah, I see."

"Is your family name 'Chang', then?" she asked before he could pose a question. He nodded. She held out a hand to him, which he accepted. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Chang Wufei."

He smiled at her greeting. "You know something of my culture, I see."

She was still holding his hand, smiling. "Yes. My father was somewhat of an Asian enthusiast himself. I've endeavored to learn all I can so that I might better understand him--his thoughts and his passions."

There was a tingling, racing up and down Wufei's spine as he asked, "And who is your father?"

Her smile turned knowing, and she pulled away from him enough to dip in curtsy to him. "Forgive me for not properly introducing myself. I am Mariemeia Khushrenada. Daughter of Treize Khushrenada."

It was all Wufei could do but stare as his throat and chest constricted.

In the Pale Moonlight by Andrea Readwolf

Part 4 Act FOUR

~Act IV~

He was asleep.

And then he was awake.

Just like that. Sudden consciousness. He couldn't even remember what he'd been dreaming about--but his body felt strange, tingly. He tried to sit up, but found his body didn't want to respond. He frowned--or, at least, he thought he frowned.

It was... dim. But he couldn't tell if it was morning or night, or just the room he was in. He didn't recognize the room, dark as it was, but something told him he wouldn't have recognized it anyway. Strangely enough, that thought didn't alarm him.

It didn't *look* like a prison cell, that's for sure. The bed beneath him was a lot more comfortable than any brig or holding cell.

'Prison cell'? 'Brig or holding cell'? Why would he be in one of those? What happened? What time was it? Where was he? And why the hell couldn't he *move*?!!

A door opened, shedding artificial yellow light into the darkened room. He tried to turn his head, to see who it was. He couldn't.

"Mrs. Darlain, ma'am? Will you be supping here tonight or shall I have the dining hall readied?" A woman's voice. Older, around fifty or sixty, he'd guess.

"Thank you, Pepper." Another woman's voice--younger but still mature. Perhaps in her forties. "I'll eat in here. There's no reason to go through all that work for just one person." And obviously used to giving out directions.

"Oh! It's no work, ma'am!"

"Pepper, Pepper..." Her voice was calm and cultured, soft and yet commanding.   "We have this discussion every night. It's growing tiring. I will sup here with Milliardo. Thank you."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll bring your dinner here, ma'am."

"Thank you, Pepper."

The door clicked shut again and the woman sighed. "Yes, I know she means well," she said, startling him. Did she know he was awake? He hadn't thought so... "But I really do enjoy eating here. Your rooms have the nicest view of the surrounding countryside.

"I talked to Relena earlier."

Relena? Yes.. his sister. His little sister, Relena Darlian. Was that his name then? Darlian? It didn't sound right...

"Marquise de Lancy has been making a fuss again. Apparently he doesn't want to believe she's not interested in him romantically. Men!--no offense, of course."

Marquise. That sounds right... Zechs Marquise. Yes. But... Why did his sister have a different name? Was she married? No... he didn't think..

"That Dorothy-girl she has working for her now finally chased him away. If I understand it right, Ms. Catalonia explained to de Lancy that although Relena was a pacifist, she herself suffered no such limitations and would gladly shoot him--or worse--if he didn't go away. Oh! What I wouldn't've *given* to see that!"

Zechs smiled mentally. Yes, Dorothy Catalonia could be very... persuasive when she wanted to be. So she found her way to Relena's side, had she? Well, he wasn't surprised. Dorothy always thrived where the action was and his sister... was...

Queen of the world? No, that could be right...

Somewhere near the bed, the woman's voice continued to drone on. Zechs picked out only a word to two before his headache increased and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

She stood in front of the plain door with the numberings 1*2 wondering, not for the first time, what had convinced the two ex-terrorists to take up residency on the fifth floor. No one answered her first knock so she rapped again. She wasn't about to be turned away.

The door opened a bare inch and she smiled. "Are you going to invite me in, Duo Maxwell?"

He frowned--he didn't recognize her, good. More fun for her when he realized who she was and why she was there. He stepped back and opened the door for her and she stepped forward. She caught the quick look he shot towards the person hiding behind the other side of the door and her smile increased.

"Ah, good," she said, removing her black gloves to reveal finely manicured hands. "Heero Yuy." She looked up, lifting the veil and black sun hat from her platinum blonde head--her hair wrapped up in a tight bun so it wouldn't be easily noticed at night. "Just the person I was hoping to find."

Heero stepped forward; Duo stepped back, relaxing his hold of his gun--still ready at a moment's notice, though. He didn't have to wait long for that moment.

"Dorothy Catalonia," Heero replied, one firm hand against the door shutting it behind her.

She smiled down the barrel of Duo's gun and pulled at a pin that held her hair up; the long, blonde strands unfurled behind her. "Ah! Much better." She turned away from Duo and any threat he might have posed for her and smiled at Heero. "Now, onto business."

She folded her hands in front of her with her hat and clip. "Heero Yuy. I have a proposition for you."

"Not interested," the other boy said, turning away and walking towards the other room.

"You've been to see Miss Relena before," she continued as if he hadn't said a thing. "You know first hand what security she keeps. Frankly, she's far too trusting." Dorothy followed him into the other room, discovering a small living area furnished with vidscreen, media-station, and a black laptop. The couch was worn and threadbare, but the table looked brand new. 'Interesting,' she thought. "I have done my best to improve the efforts of her security, however, my best is not good enough in this area. I lack the... expertise and time, let us say."

"Let's say you get out the way you came," Duo snipped coming out from behind her, to go stand by Heero.

She ignored him. "You do."

"Hey, listen. I really think you should--"

"You are the best," Dorothy said, her chin notching higher as she stared down at both of them. Heero might have grown a few inches since the last time they'd met, but so had she--and she was still taller than both of them. She used her height to her advantage. "I am here to offer you a position as head of Vice Minister Darlian's security."

"That's nice, but we're already kinda busy here," Duo replied, folding his arms across his chest, standing behind Heero's chair as the stoic boy said nothing.

"It does not have to be a permanent position--only temporary, if that's what you wish," she continued, standing tall and proud. "I ask only that you stay long enough to train those who will be responsible for protecting Miss Relena, and that you install upon them the same precision and focus you demand from yourself."

"Hey, look--" Dorothy did, finally, look at him. "We've got our own problems here--"

"You're problems would be greater if something were to happen to Miss Relena right now," she pointed out.

"Why me?" Heero asked, quieting any comeback his braided lover might have shot out.

Dorothy smiled at him, her blue eyes shining with amusement and glee. "Because you are the best. Because Relena trusts you above all others, as do I. And because she will do what you tell her to in order to ensure her safety, as will I."

Heero frowned at her. "Relena doesn't take orders from a soldier."

"Orders?" Dorothy's smile turned into a tiny smirk. "Tell me, Duo, how are things going with the rehabilitation here on this colony?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" the longhaired boy asked defensively.

But Heero and Dorothy were staring each other down. "Why not someone else?"

Dorothy sighed. "I've already *told* you. You are the best. I expect you to train the best."

"Hey, now, listen. I don't think you're paying attention here," Duo said, holding up a hand towards her. "We're *busy*. B*U*S*Y. Busy."

"Too busy to protect the figurehead of peace?"

"Now wait a minute!"

Dorothy lifted her hand to ward off any further argument. "We both know it's only a matter of time before someone tries something." She shot each boy a piercing, knowing look. She wasn't a fool and neither were they. "Someone is going to try and hurt Miss Relena. I won't allow for it. That is why I have come to you."

She reached for her hair and began twisting it up. "The decision is, of course, yours." She replaced the pin. "I will not force you to do anything more than what you already have." She fastened her hat back into place and began pulling on her gloves. "However," and she again shot them each a look. "If something *does* happen to her and you have done nothing to prevent it--know I *will* hold you personally accountable."

And then she turned and was gone, leaving the two frowning boys behind.

Aim. Fire. <PING>

"So will you tell me what they're doing for my birthday?"

Aim. Fire. <PING>

"No."

Aim. Fire. <PING>

"Auh! But *Blaire*!"

Aim. Fire. <PING>

"Don't even think about it, Carina."

Aim. Fire. <PING>

"Auh, but *Blaire*! I wanted to--"

Aim--

"Augha!"

"Blaire!"

The dark-haired teen raced to catch her sister before the older girl could crumble to the sands. She helped the blonde woman to a nearby tree, resting her back against the smooth bark of the palm, gasping with worry as her eyes raced over the blonde's face.

"What is it? What's the matter?" she gushed. "Blaire, talk to me!"

The blonde grabbed her youngest sister for support, panting as her senses screamed out. Too weak to continue standing on her own, Blaire slide down the surface of the tree trunk until she was sitting on the mound of sand at its base. Green-grey eyes shut tight against the tidal wave of sensory output that flooded her body as she struggled to pull her senses in and regain control of herself. She blinked furiously to clear her vision, and saw Rini kneeling over her, her young face strained with concern and fear.

One cursory glance noted that the teen had returned her firearm back to its holder and had not just dropped it in the sands. Blaire was proud--and saddened.

"Blaire?" Rini's voice was choked with swallowed tears.

"I'm all right," the older girl assured with a small smile. "Let's call it a day for today, okay?"

Rini nodded, all too ready to go back and hang out with some of the other kids. She stood and held out her hand for Blaire, and they made their way back to the compound in silence--Rini shooting sideway, worried glances at her sister.

Halfway there, the door to the out wall burst open and a green and blonde streak raced towards them. "Blaire!"

"I know," the older girl said before Devenley could.

Reaching them, the second blonde nearly collapsed at their feet, panting. "Then you can't deny it any longer!" She looked up, her aquamarine eyes searching out first her sister's face and then the blue skies above. "It *was* him... It *is* him..."

Blaire looked down at the sands in front of their feet, scowling. She didn't say anything but continued walking forward, passing Dev and leaving Rini behind.

"Blaire--!"

"No." Soft, but firm.

"You can't be *serious*!" Devenley cried, racing after her sister. She whirled before her, forcing the older girl to stop or go around her.

"He hasn't been tried," Blaire announced as if that proved her point.

"So we call him up, ask him to come here, and put him through the trials!" Dev couldn't see why her sister was so against this...

Blaire's lips formed into a tight, straight line. Blue eyes flashed, clashed against blue eyes. "Fine," she finally agreed. "We will try him. I will do it myself."

And then the older girl pushed past her sister again and stormed the rest of the way back to the compound by herself.

Rini stared at her sister's back until the older girl disappeared into the compound. Then, looking over to Devenley, she asked with wide-eyes, "What's going on?"

"I'm against it," she said, exiting the elevator at a brisk pace.

"You're against a lot of things, Dorothy," Relena replied gently, smiling at the other blonde.

"I wasn't against you growing your hair out, now was I?" the other girl smirked at her.

Relena laughed. "I still think it's too long. I should get it cut."

"Don't you dare!" Her secretary, she noticed, was not at his desk. Dorothy frowned. She'd have to talk to him about that. She sighed and led the way into Relena's office--and stopped dead in her tracks.

"You're security still sucks."

"Heero!" Relena pushed out from behind Dorothy to confirm with her eyes what her ears had already told her. There, seated in *her* chair, behind *her* desk, sat Heero Yuy in a blue tee-shirt and jeans. Her eyes drank him in. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice shy and gentle.

Prussian eyes stared into icy blue. "Returning a favor."

"A... favor?" Relena asked, confused as she noted the stare between him and Dorothy. "But... for what."

Heero looked back Relena. "You helped me, now I will help you."

Dorothy smiled--like the cat who'd caught the canary.

He was awake again.

It was day. He could tell this time.

He turned his head to look out the window. Mid-morning if the glaring light pouring through the double doors was any indication.

He wasn't sure what day it was, but at least he knew who he was, if not where he was. Gingerly, he went over his entire body, trying out the muscles before attempting to sit up. They were stiff, but at least they were responding.

He was grateful his body obeyed. Some days it still took him a couple of tries before he was sitting. Today was going to be a good day, it seemed. Cautiously, he swung his legs over around the side of his bed, taking several deep breaths before pushing up.

For a moment, he thought he was going to fall, and he almost panicked. But he forced his knees to lock, bracing the back of his legs against the bed, and after several minutes, his balance centered.

Zechs Marquise was standing.

For several minutes he just stood there, staring at his surroundings. He was alive. He didn't know how or why, but he was alive. It was unbelievable. He should be dead. It was unfair.

After several minutes of doing nothing but stand there, Zechs convinced his body to move towards the balcony. His muscles were weak, his joints tight--there was a stiffness to his walk that annoyed the heck out of him. But he was moving.

He squinted at the sight that greeted him outside. The world was covered in snow. The world... he was on Earth. They had succeeded in saving the blue planet. Good. He was relieved.

He unlocked the French doors and stepped out into the frigid air. It was like a thousand needle points prickling all over his body. Good. He welcomed the pain. Pain was a reminder of life.

Beautiful. The ice-covered world before him was absolutely breath-taking. It was almost unthinkable that this had almost been lost.

Because of him.

He'd almost destroyed the Earth. He--

His knees threatened to give out on him and Zechs rested most of his weight down against the snowcapped stone railing, cursing his body's weakness.

"Good morning, Milli--oh my god!"

Zechs turned--too quickly--and ended up slipping on the icy balcony. It was a jarring fall and Zechs winced as his body painfully protested such rough treatment.

"Oh, Stars above! Are you all right, Milliardo? Here! Please! Let me help you back to bed. How are you feeling? Can you stand? Did you hurt anything?"

Zechs pushed both her and her questions aside. It was the woman from before, but he didn't know or recognize her. "Who are you?" he asked, still sitting on his ass in a pile of melting snow and ice.

"Forgive me. I am Geraldine Darlian, Relena's mother," the woman pulled back and smiled at him. "I'm glad to see you are finally awake, but, please, let me help you up and back inside. You've been asleep for quite a while and your body must be tired."

"Yes, hello," he greeted, still wary of the woman, but he let her help him back up and into bed. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Almost a year."

The jet set down with nary a bump on the thin strip that served as a runway.   Standing in the hatch, waiting for the stairs to roll up, Quatre Raberba Winner took in a deep breath. The scent of sand and surf made a pleasurable assault on his senses and the boy-billionaire smiled. He felt so good; he almost jumped from the plane without waiting for the stairs to get there.

"Master Quatre!"

The boy laughed. "Rashid! Hello! Thank you for being here!" He took the steps at once, flying down them and into the big bear-of-a-man's arms. The clean, earthy scent that always seemed to surround the man engulfed Quatre, and Quatre felt relaxed. He should have come back to earth sooner.

"Welcome home, Master Quatre," Rashid said, placing a warm, fatherly hand against the boy's back.

The blond boy pulled away a little and looked up at him, a small, adorable, confused frown on his face. "Home?"

Rashid's smile, if possible, grew. "Yes, this is the ancestral home of the Manganacs, once ruled by the Raberbas. Welcome to The Sands." He stepped back and motioned to the covered jeep waiting for them. "Come, let us get out of the sun. You are not properly dressed for such heat."

"Ruled...?" Quatre allowed himself to be lead away from the plane, one of the other men already reaching for his overnight bag. "You never told me anything about--"

"You never asked," Rashid replied, holding the door open for him. "The estate home, I am sorry to say, is uninhabitable at the moment, but I would be more than happy to take you there and show you were your mother lived when she was a child."

"My--mother? You knew my mother?" Quatre felt at once, overwhelmed with excitement and a strange sense of betrayal. Why was he only hearing of this now? Why hadn't--

"Come," Rashid commanded. "We shall take you to your rooms where you can refresh yourself and change into something more appropriate for this heat, and then I will answer all your questions to the best of my abilities.

'The ancestral home of the Raberbas,' Quatre thought, staring out at the beautiful paradise around him.

Something was not right. They both knew it, but they didn't know how to prove it.

"I'll go and check it out," Sally suggested, staring down at the reports they'd managed to gather. "If it's nothing, then great. But if it's something..."

Anne frowned, pushing a piece of mousy brown hair behind an ear. "Will you be back in time for the Celebrations?"

Sally made a face. "I was never much one for big, fancy celebrations," she said, pulling out one of the reports and flipping over to the page that worried her the most. Pictures. Of mobile suits. If it was true...

"Then we can celebrate... privately..." Anne suggest softly, afraid to look at the other woman.

Sally's head snapped up and she focused on the younger woman. Then a big, teasing grin split her face. "Why Anne, are you hitting on me?"

"I--" A rosy-hued blush infused the girl's cheeks.

"Careful," Sally warned, her voice teasingly low as she cornered Anne back against the table, pressing against the woman's back. Her breath teased her throat and shoulder. "Or I might just hit back..."

A small whimper rose from Lady Anne and her head fell forward as her body pressed back against Sally's.

"Is that what you want...?" the older woman breathed, torn between wanting to do something and not wanting to press or hurt the other woman.

"What," Anne licked her lips. "What about Crezia?"

It was true--Sally *did* have a crush on the younger, dark-haired girl. But, then, Noin was too involved emotionally with her Sank prince. Even if she'd been receptive, Sally would have felt guilty and insecure about taking advantage of her like that. Anne... was a different matter entirely.

Anne was older, for one--even if it was only by a year. She'd experienced more. She wasn't cute like Noin, but she was still pretty. And, in the past year she'd spent getting to know both women better, Sally found that she had many of the same interests as the petite woman, and that she liked her. In the end, she wasn't at all opposed to striking up a relationship with Anne.

"What about her?" Sally asked.

Grey eyes grew wide and Anne squeezed around until she was facing Sally. "I--I thought--"

"That I liked her?" Sally grinned. "I do." She pressed closer into the other woman. "But I like you, too."

"I--" Anne didn't know what to say. She knew what sex was like between a man and a woman. She knew she wasn't overly fond of it. She knew she was attracted to the woman in front of her. She knew she wanted Sally to kiss her. But she didn't know what was supposed to happen after that. They couldn't have... sex, could they? Not with them both being women.... "I--"

Sally leaned forward and touched her lips to Anne's--just a gentle, tingly light kiss. "We don't have to do anything you don't want," she assured before brushing her lips over Anne's again.

Anne's eyes drifted shut at the first contact as the tingling sensations raced shivers down her spine and arms and legs. The problem was, she thought, she wanted to do a lot.

When Rashid had said the estate was uninhabitable, he'd meant for Quatre to stay at. However, the main house and those buildings surrounding it were not completely destroyed. Yes, it looked like a war had taken place here and knocked out many of the walls, charred entire rooms. Vines and flowers from the gardens had migrated into the main house, climbing up the walls and over the staircases.

It looked like some enchanted place straight out of a storybook dream to the blond boy.

Garbed in light, creamy white robes that covered him from head to ankle, Quatre was surprised that he wasn't as hot or hotter then before when he'd came in his khaki pants and dress shirt. The turban was an unaccustomed weight on his head, but it wasn't unpleasant. Catching his image in one of the broken mirrors hanging on the walls, Quatre stopped and stared. He looked as surreal as his surroundings.

His senses were tingling--a light energy flow tickling over him as it had since he'd first landed. Only, now, it was stronger. It seemed to penetrate his skin, into his very bones. The air around him felt alive. He was tempted--tempted to drop his walls and *feel* this place completely.

But he was also afraid. Rashid had remained outside. Quatre had entered the estate by himself. If something happened... If he was too open... too vulnerable...

And then he felt it. Different from the tingling. A small buzzing, pushing at the back of his mind.

This was his mother's home... This was his family's home... What if...

Quatre dropped the shields around his senses and reached for the pulsating throb of his space heart--only, it *roared* in his ears. He cried out, falling to his knees.

"Can you feel it?"

He looked up. The woman who had called him here was now standing over him.

"Can you feel it?" she repeated harshly. He nodded weakly. "It is the Tellurium Crystal. It is the life stone of the Raberbas."

"Why?" Quatre gasped. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it is our legacy," Blaire replied, her voice softer than he had ever heard it. "Stand up," she commanded. "Come with me."

His breath searing his lungs, Quatre climbed back to his feet and stood tall, facing her. She nodded her approval and then turned away, expecting him to follow. He did.

A year. He'd been unconscious for a year.

As Zechs strolled through the gardens of Peacecraft Manor, he thought over all Geraldine Darlian had told him.

He'd survived the war. Treize hadn't. He had a tombstone, erected beside Treize's. To the world, Milliard Peacecraft was dead. His sister was Vice Minister of the new government. She was in the colonies now, still--she'd been there for almost a year, Geraldine had said--helping them recover. Earth had been at war for only a year. The colonies had been caught in war for decades.

He was in Sank. In his homeland. Right now, he was living in the home he'd been born in, before his father had moved to the castle farther south. These were the gardens his parents had walked together.

Sank was free again. The Earth was free again. The world was freed.

Good. He was glad.

Only...

What was he supposed to do now?

He should have died. They should have left him to die. Why had they bothered to save him?

"Relena... would be sad." Heero Yuy's words from their final battle together resurfaced fresh in his mind.

His sister. His last words to her had been unkind. He had never really told her that he loved her, but he had hoped she'd known. She'd known, of course she had. She had to.

What would he say to her now? He had tried to destroy everything she worked so hard to achieve. And then, she had taken him in, hidden him from the world, protected him... Somehow, "thank you" didn't seem quite enough.

He'd been right. Relena was the better of them to lead. She'd proven that better than he had. He'd only proven how wrong he was.

The Preventers. He laughed. The thought of his Noin and Lady Une working together was very amusing indeed. He didn't know of the third woman Geraldine spoke of, Sally Po, but it seemed the three women had formed as fast friends after the war. He was glad. Noin never really took to any of her own sex. Even when they were still children, the dark-haired girl could be found more often rough-housing with the boys.

But then, Lady Une had never really struck him as very lady-like, and he could only wonder about this Sally Po.

His head hurt again, and he knew he should probably be heading back. In front of him, the sun was setting, casting orange and pink hues across the sky.

Truly... beautiful...

She led him through the estate like one accustomed to the many corridors and turns. He followed, the loud throbbing of his space heart accompanying them throughout.

"Where are we going?" he asked after what seemed like hours.

She turned again.

'Our legacy' she had said. He wondered what she meant. 'The life stone of the Raberbas.' What riddles was she playing him with?

She stopped suddenly, having come to the end off the hallway they were in. Quatre looked around her and noticed the large ornate door.

"Go in," she ordered, stepping aside to allow him passage. He looked at her, but her face was blank. With a breath of reassurance for himself, he moved passed her and stood before the door. He stood, staring at it for several minutes... before he reached out to push it up.

The door moved before his fingers even grazed it.

He stepped through... and didn't come out until the next evening.

He was frowning, but she still wasn't paying attention. "I don't like it," he repeated.

"I'm sorry, Heero, but I can't just say 'no'," Relena was packing her attaché case. "They asked for my help."

"You promised Dorothy you'd meet her back in Sank," he reminded her. "She's expecting you."

"Heero." Relena huffed and turned around to face him, finally noticing his frown. "I will only be 12 hours behind. It won't take that much to stop by L3x18999. He was still frowning. "Now, don't give me that look. You go on. I'll be perfectly fine. I have Murphy and Quinn with me."

"Hn." The Japanese boy was obviously not happy.

"Here," Relena said, reaching into her desk. "This is for Duo, and this is for you. Don't open until Christmas," she instructed, handing him two cheerfully wrapped gifts. She leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. "And try to *enjoy* yourself this Christmas, Heero. 'Tis the season to be jolly!'" She laughed, snatching shut her case and waltzing past him.

"Come on, Mr. Chief-of-Security-Heero-Yuy." She was in a good mood--teasing and laughing. "You may escort me to my shuttle."

"Hn." But he followed her out.

"Ah, ah, ah! There will be *no* Grinch to steal *this* Christmas! *Smile*, Heero."

He wondered if someone hadn't slipped something into her tea. She was in a terribly good mood. She almost reminded him of Duo. Speaking of which--he had only six more hours before he'd be able to see his longhaired lover again. He smiled.

"There you go! See!" Relena was laughing again. "It *is* possible for the great Heero Yuy to smile!"

Yep, he concluded. She'd definitely been drugged. But he continued to smile, all the way down to the space docks.

They were camped out together at the entrance to the estate. Rashid had refused to leave, though he ordered several of his other soldiers to do so. Adul was the only one who refused to obey the Manganac leader, and, as a result, the two mulish men were not talking to each other.

Which worked out fine for Katalynna--who "kidnapped" the younger soldier. Nita and Rini were playing a hand of rummy near the fire. Rashid and Jack were off by themselves talking. Dev and Blaire sat near the fire, staring into its flames, not saying a word to anybody. It had been like that since yesterday. The two blonde girls had not even eaten. Rashid explained to them that it was customary and they shouldn't worry.

That's why when the two girls looked up suddenly, everyone started. "He comes."

Rashid was on his feet, moving past their camp, but he didn't get far before the doors to the main house opened for Quatre Raberba Winner.

They all stood up. The blond young man descended the steps to them. He stopped when he reached the first step.

"What now?" Devenley asked, looking up at him with large blue-watered eyes.

He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "Now I must return to space," he said, his voice sounding distant. "I'm afraid I have a previous engagement that I can't miss, but, I would like to... meet with you, all, again." He looked at them all gathered there, seeing them in a new light. "To talk with you, get to know you all better. After all, we're family."

A few of the girls laughed and smiled. Rashid was beaming proudly. "We'll be around," Jack said, with a smirk. "Don't call us; we'll call you."

"Are you all *really* gay?"

"KAT!" her sisters shouted.

"What?" the dark-haired girl asked, oblivious to the red-hued embarrassed faces around her. "It's a perfectly serious question..." She noticed several glares shot her way. "I mean, how did five, perfectly *beautiful* men get to be gay?"

"I don't know," Quatre smiled. "I was always raised with the acceptance of both sexes. I can't speak for the others." He looked up then, smiling as if he knew a secret. "If you'll excuse me..."

"We'll be in touch...." Jack called after him as he led the way towards one of the vehicles they'd brought with them, Rashid right behind him.

"Yes, we'll be touch..." Quatre called back to her. "Thank you for waiting for me. I'm sorry to leave like this!" He was already climbing into the jeep.

"He is the one," Devenley said softly to her sister. "Surely you see that now."

"Yes, the Prince has returned to his kingdom..." Blaire replied. "But I don't think he wants it."

"Give him time. There is change on the wind." Devenley watched as the jeep kicked up a trail of dust.

"We will wait until the wind turns," Blaire announced. "And then we will move again."

"We won't fade away so quickly."

"No, we will live forever."

"Immortality."

End of Act IV

At this time, even the *smallest* little note dropped to the author would be most appreciated--just to let her know you're still reading and you still care if this series ever finishes posting. Thank You

Andrea Readwolf

Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com

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