28-Apr-2001
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
Diane Davis - fenwyck@radiks.net
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Special Guest Writer! Nixie the Pixie!*
Nixers - Nixerchan@aol.com
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: NC-17 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1x2, 3+4
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
A pale hand reached out and trailed over the smooth, cool glass of the window, tracing the outlines of the buildings and towers in the distance. Far below, people and vehicles darted about, rushing to countless appointments, meetings, gatherings; life was, for once, proceeding in a normal, mundane way. There were no crises, no catastrophes about to occur, now that the wars were over, and a stable peace had finally been established. The fears that had splintered people apart were easing, and now humanity seemed to be at last coming closer together.
So why did he feel so very far apart from everything?
Quatre sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly until his forehead came to rest against the glass with a quiet *thunk*. Once upon a time, he'd felt like he was part of something, part of a group of strong, bright souls that were struggling to save what was good and right. But now...now he was standing alone in a darkened, sterile, cold office within a tower of steel and chrome and glass, watching out the window as the currents and eddies of life flowed on around him and past him, as if leaving him behind.
Truly, he knew he was part of it all--after all, he was running the Winner corporations and was part of the ongoing efforts to maintain peace. He had friends, so very many friends, and he had love.... His lips curved up ever so slightly in the faintest of smiles and his heart warmed as he thought of Trowa. The green-eyed pilot was everything to him, and Quatre knew without a doubt that he was the other half of his soul. Whether they were together, or were separated by the endless expanses of space, he could feel the love they shared. But.... His smile disappeared, the warmth in his heart fading as it always did lately, replaced by a vague empty numbness. But somehow it just wasn't enough anymore.
Once he'd been so connected to those around him, secured by what seemed like unbreakable bonds of caring for others. Those that knew him always were lauding him for his kindness, gentleness, and generosity--he'd even heard that some referred to him as an "angel". Now, instead of being down there with the crowds of people, part of the dance of life, he seemed viewing it all from afar, as if miles away from those in the very same room with him...miles away even from Trowa, despite how close he appeared to be to his lover. Instead of reaching out to others, he was retreating, withdrawing into himself, more often than not cold and remote...and hateful? Quatre grimaced, but forced himself to acknowlege the things that he'd been keeping hidden deep within. He could no longer deny the strange, formless anger and sorrow that seemed to hover around him and sparked him to lash out harshly at those he held dear, the chill isolation that left him quiet, subdued, literally trapped within himself, nor the hints of bitterness and cynicism that were beginning to interfere with his efforts to assist those maintaining peace.
What had happened? He'd asked himself that question over and over the past year, and still he had no answer. At first, he thought it had to do with his father's death, or the events surrounding that horrible time...the idea that the people he sacrificed everything to aid, the people his father died to ensure peace for, had turned against them all. Then he remembered how he'd been feeling the first stirrings of this isolation and anger well before that had happened, and how the rage had already been there, as if *waiting* to be fanned into a fury of destruction as he'd carried out his revenge with Wing Zero. 'Was I broken all along? Was it just being in the war that started doing this to me?' he wondered to himself. 'Father would agree with that, would say it was the fighting that twisted me....' Still leaning against the window, he shook his head. "I've changed," he whispered to no one in particular, to everyone in the building around him and down on the street below. "I've changed...and it's getting worse. And I don't know how to stop it, or fix it...."
'Tell someone.... Talk to Trowa...Iria...Relena, even...somebody....' The thought whispered through his mind, but almost immediately he squelched it. He'd heard it said that the one you loved should also be your best friend--and he'd thought that was true for Trowa. Yet, he still couldn't bring himself to confess all that troubled him to his koi. Something...something, he honestly couldn't say what, made Quatre feel extremely uncomfortable, almost ill, at the thought of discussing it with him, much less anyone else. And so he'd stayed silent, even when he knew that those around him were beginning to wonder. "I'm sorry, Trowa...," he whispered again into the empty room, pale blue eyes looking at but not seeing the scurring people and the bright artificial light of a colony day. "I'm trying not to be like this. I'm trying...."
The insistent trill of his vidphone broke Quatre out of his reverie. Keying on the overhead lights, he sat in his desk chair and answered it. An image of Trowa in the study at home appeared on the screen; the other youth was smiling softly, the shock of hair half-obscuring his face shimmering copper in the light from a nearby window. "Trowa, hello!" Quatre smiled out of habit, not wanting to make his recent brooding known.
"Hello, love," Trowa began, then unexpectedly stopped as he silently regarded Quatre. He blinked, emerald eyes suddenly serious. "How are you doing? Is everything all right?"
Quatre felt his heart leap; despite his best efforts, Trowa at times exhibited the uncanny ability to know when something was off. It was as if the other shared some of his empathic abilities, and could sense the shadows lurking behind his cheerful expression. "I-I'm fine." He forced the startled stammer out of his voice, and, calming himself and focusing on his love for the other, smiled more warmly. "Everything's okay. I'm just tired...today's been a really long day."
"You're sure?" Trowa gazed at him again as he nodded and shrugged.
"Yes, quite sure. It's been a bit hectic trying to tie up loose ends before our trip to Earth. I guess it's just worn me out a bit."
"Ah, understandable. We'd best get you away from there, then, so you can relax and rest, don't you think?" He smiled again, his voice husky and low as he spoke. The inquisitive look in his eyes indicated that he didn't fully believe that all was quite as fine as Quatre insisted, but was willing to let the subject drop, at least for now. "I was calling to remind you that the shuttle leaves in two hours, but since Rashid says that your things are already packed, perhaps you would want me to pick you up early?"
Quatre pondered for a brief moment, and then nodded. "That would work. I think I'm at a point where I can leave the rest for the others while I'm gone." Just seeing his lover and hearing his voice had begun to soothe him just slightly. Perhaps extra time in his company would steady his turbulent emotions and help force the feelings of isolation away. Perhaps this time it would work....
"Good. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Trowa reached out to touch the screen, as if caressing the side of Quatre's face, then the vidphone went black as he signed off.
Quatre let out a deep breath with a soft sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk and cradling his chin on his folded hands. Relaxation, rest, being able to spend time with Trowa, not to mention seeing everyone at the anniversary celebration...perhaps that would help. 'Please, let it help...' the thought ghosted through his mind and heart. Closing his eyes and swallowing against a sudden surge of emotion, the thought became almost a prayer. 'Please....' Finally he stood and dimmed the lights. Grabbing the vest he'd draped over the back of his desk chair, he left to notify his staff of his early departure and to wait for Trowa in the lobby.
The long, black car pulled into the drive of Winner Corporations. The driver stepped out and opened the passenger door for Trowa Barton.
Trowa glanced around briefly, then walked through the large glass doors. As he made his way inside, he felt a sudden air of tension. He frowned slightly because the sensation was foreign. He had been to the building before and always had been met with a sense of relief, but that had vanished.
He walked towards the lobby and the front desk to have himself announced. Catching sight of a familiar face, he turned and smiled. "Hi," he said and walked over to where Quatre sat. "Did I keep you waiting long?"
Quatre looked up at Trowa's greeting, eyes widening slightly at the other's appearance. It wasn't very often that he got to see him in a suit. "Hi," he replied. "No, I wasn't waiting long. I just felt like getting out of the office for a bit..." Rising from his seat, he looked inquiringly at Trowa. "Why are you all dressed up?"
Trowa looked Quatre over from head to foot, then smiled again. "I wanted to take you to dinner before we left for Earth and I wanted to surprise you as well. Guess it worked," he said.
Quatre bit at his lower lip as he felt a real smile flicker into being. "It did...that's a wonderful idea. Thank you." A slight, but happy warmth glowed in his chest, and he finally let the smile free. Stepping forward, he reached for the green-eyed boy's hand. "Where did you want to go? Am I dressed appropriately?"
Trowa gently squeezed Quatre's hand. "You are dressed quite appropriately for where we're going. A friend of mine who recently retired from the circus has opened up a restaurant here called *Kashmir*. I think you will enjoy his food. From what I understand, he accepts anyone and everyone. How does that sound?"
"Oh, sounds wonderful," Quatre said with a slight sigh of anticipation. It had just occurred to him how hungry he was...perhaps something to do with forgetting lunch earlier.
"Good," Trowa said, "So, if you are ready, we can go."
"Absolutely." Impulsively, Quatre brushed a quick kiss over Trowa's cheek. "Thank you... I needed something like this."
Trowa felt a slight rush of heat in the soft touch and looked into Quatre's teal colored eyes for a moment. "I thought you might," he said, quietly, letting the contact suffice for the moment.
Turning, he led them both out to the waiting car.
Once outside, the driver opened the car door again and Trowa climbed inside. He watched as Quatre followed and gave instructions to the driver. He then raised the privacy shield and turned back to Quatre with a sigh. "Hi again," he said, leaning back against the seat.
Quatre had been leaning back in the seat, eyes closing for a moment as he consciously focused on relaxing. They blinked open at Trowa's remark, and he looked over quizzically. "Hi again?"
Trowa reached over and slid his hand around the back of Quatre's neck. He could feel the knotted muscles and slowly began massaging the tension away. "Just rest," he said, softly. "And yes, I said hi again. I couldn't greet you the way I wanted to in there."
Discovering that the human body could indeed go into a liquid form, Quatre melted back against Trowa's hand. That was...very nice.... *Very* nice. He let his eyes flutter closed for just a moment, almost purring at the sensation. Looking again at the other, he said quietly, with just a bit of mischief sparking in his eyes, "And how did you want to greet me?"
"Hn," Trowa remarked. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to Quatre's, and kissed the blond young man deeply.
And he'd thought the massage was nice...! The soft, happy warmth in his chest suddenly flared through his whole body, and he moaned softly, pressing closer to his love.
Trowa moved his arms around Quatre and pulled him in close. He felt Quatre relax against him and after a short while, Trowa moved his head back. "That's better," he said, looking down into Quatre's sweet face. "I missed you," he said, honestly.
Quatre blinked, then smiled up at Trowa. "I was just thinking the same thing...that I missed you, that is. I'm glad you're here," he said, arms tightening around the other in a gentle hug.
"Me too," Trowa replied. "So, what is going on? Have you been overworking again?"
Quatre winced guiltily. "Er..." he gave a slightly nervous laugh. "I try not to, really I do. Things...are basically okay."
Trowa nodded slowly. "I know," he said, "But, there is something else that's bothering you.. Do you want to talk about it?"
The blond stiffened almost imperceptibly, looking away. The inner voice that had been chiding him earlier came back, whispering 'Tell him...' in his mind. "I...," he began, then broke off. It was so much easier to pretend, when Trowa was just a face on a vid, but with him actually here... It didn't help that his love was almost frighteningly observant, and could read him like a book; trying to hide anything from him so very often proved futile. Torn, he wrestled with something in his mind for a moment, then he sighed, relaxing against Trowa as if he'd given in to something. "Things are...things are strange. There's something...odd. Something wrong, somehow," he whispered.
Trowa took a deep breath. His hold on Quatre did not lessen as he gently stroked Quatre's hair. "Yes," he said, looking down. "I've been having some strange feelings myself. Nothing big, though. How are things strange for you?"
Quatre frowned, brow furrowing as he tried to find the words. "It's...it's hard to describe," he finally sighed. "I feel...off. Like I'm losing part of me, of what I used to be." He made a frustrated noise , then rubbed at his temple. "I don't exactly know why, or what it is...I just know, I feel more and more...*wrong* as time goes on." Shrugging almost helplessly, he sighed again. "I'm sorry... I didn't want to be like this. I wanted to be happy for when you got here..."
Trowa tilted Quatre's chin up with his fingers. "That's not important," he said, " I don't care if you are happy or not in my presence. I care about you and not appearances, love. You and I have shared a lot. I don't want that to end, Quatre. I want you to be able to tell me when you're not okay as well as when you are. Being here, and being with you is the most important thing to me." Leaning forward, he kissed Quatre again. "Now," he said, releasing him, "Tell me what you think you used to be."
Relaxing just slightly as he leaned against Trowa's shoulder, Quatre thought for a long moment, staring out of the car's tinted windows. "I...I feel like I was someone who was always willing to reach out, to try and help others. I was *part* of everything," he gestured one hand, as if to indicate the whole colony around them. "Now...it's like I'm far away, separated from it all..."
For a moment, Trowa was silent. Then, he looked up and said, "Do you miss the *action*? The battle? Because that's not uncommon, Quatre."
Quatre pondered, then shook his head. "I don't think it's quite that. Life still has action...it's just different now. But it's like everything's moving around me, leaving me behind. And I can't seem to find what it is to be a part of it all again...of humanity, so to speak. Sometimes...," he trailed off, quiet for a moment before finally speaking again. "It's like I'm isolated somehow from everyone." He shrugged with a sharp sigh. "I don't know. I'm sorry."
"No, don't be sorry," Trowa said. He thought about what Quatre had said. "In a way, I understand you perfectly. Coming back is hard, Quatre. Picking up and going on with life, especially after having done what we had to do, is ... difficult." He shrugged. "I don't know myself. I do know that you, the guy I love, is always there. You say that you feel isolated and maybe that is true. But one thing I know is that you will always be Quatre. That doesn't change no matter how you feel."
Quatre closed his eyes against a sudden rush of emotion, his breath leaving him in a slightly shuddering sigh. "Love you," he whispered, reaching around to embrace Trowa again. "I was...afraid that what I've been feeling was affecting how I was treating you. I...I didn't want to make you think that my feelings had changed. I guess maybe it is all just readjusting to normal life again..."
"Maybe," Trowa said. "I hope it is, however, I've come to believe in giving things time. Something might be going on in the Universe, Quatre. If there was anyone who'd be able to pick up on the unseen, it would be you. However, none of this changes or alters the way I feel about you, or how you feel about me. That's experience talking."
"I understand," Quatre nodded against Trowa's shoulder. A more peaceful expression settled on his face, and he reached up to trail his fingers along Trowa's jaw in a gentle caress. Dropping his hand, he snuggled closer, then wrapped his arm around the other's waist.
Trowa settled back again. "You know if you don't like the food at Kashmir's we can always stop off for hotdogs," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Quatre giggled, grinning up at his love. "Trowa! Don't tempt me like that! You know I'd do nearly anything for a hotdog." He shook his head, smiling. "Kashmir will be fine. Probably healthier, not to mention romantic and exotic." He was silent for a moment. "But Allah, a hot dog sounds good!"
Trowa chuckled. He then activated the comm and gave instructions to the driver again. "Change of plan," he said. "Drive us through Big Franks. Order four dogs with everything on 'em and then take us to the shuttle port."
"Yes, sir," the driver replied and altered his course.
Quatre pulled back slightly, blinking up at Trowa. "But...but you're all dressed up!" he began to protest.
Trowa placed his fingers on Quatre's lips. "It's okay," he said. "Of course, if you want me to take them all off, I could do that."
Quatre eeped slightly as Trowa silenced his protests, then eventually shook his head, a beaming smile gradually blossoming over his face. Pressing a kiss to Trowa's fingers, he settled back against the other's shoulder. "If you're okay with Big Franks, I think it sounds like a grand idea"
"I'm a circus guy, Quatre," Trowa replied. "Hot dogs are a part of my life."
"I knew there was a reason I loved you," Quatre laughed "One of the many reasons, that is..."
Trowa closed his eyes for the moment as a sudden vision flashed behind his eyes. He frowned suddenly. "Quatre, do you remember visiting me at the circus... and there was something about a hot dog booth?" he asked.
The blond stilled as a ghost of something flitted through his memory. "I...," he began, blinking hard as it danced away despite his best efforts as grasping it. "I...don't know. For a moment, I thought maybe...but perhaps I'm just thinking of something else..."
Trowa shook his head. "No," he said. "I mean we can't be thinking of something...I remember vaulting over some people and landing next to the hot dog booth.. You were there and you were surprised to see me. Does that sound familiar? If so, then we could be thinking of the same thing?"
Quatre blinked, realization dawning on his face. "I *do* remember that...!" Then whatever the memory was faded, and he frowned, confused. "I don't understand...why is it so vague...? Like there's something else, that I'm missing...."
Trowa sighed, feeling the rest of the memory slip away. "Me too," he said, then settled Quatre back against his shoulder. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together."
The shuttle trip was uneventful, giving Quatre time to think about the prospect of getting together with his former partners again. It had been a while since he had seen Heero or Duo and a bit longer since he had seen Wufei... or at least that was what he recalled, although there was a strange feeling in the back of his mind that he'd seen them recently, but he couldn't quite bring it to mind, and it occurred to him he might have been remembering a dream.
They'd been told that they would be met at the spaceport by someone on the Vice Minister's staff and brought to the mansion.
Trowa sighed as the shuttle landed. He looked over at Quatre. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.
The blond nodded, reaching out to give Trowa's hand a brief squeeze. "As ready as I'll ever be," he said with a smile. "Actually I am looking forward to it. It's been too long..."
Trowa nodded and then stood. "You're right," he said. "I wonder who'll make it."
Stretching a bit as he stood, Quatre pondered a moment. "Do you know if they even located the others? I don't imagine Heero or Duo would have been too easy to find..."
"Yes, but we're talking Relena Dorlan," Trowa responded as they moved towards the exit, "If anyone could find Heero Yuy, it would be her."
"Ah, how could I have forgotten?" Quatre laughed, shaking his head. "You're right, of course. If she still is as good at that as she used to be, I imagine they'll be there."
Trowa nodded again. "We're supposed to be met by someone from her staff," he said as they debarked.
"Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton. The last of the intrepid group has arrived at last," a feminine voice called smoothly from near the doorway into the terminal. The figure turned, her curtain of blonde hair swinging about her shoulders as she cast a look over them both, one brow quirked up and a faint half smile hovering about her lips.
"I trust your flight was comfortable?" Dorothy asked, waiting as the approached her.
Quatre blinked, eyes widening as he turned to see a very familiar face. "Someone from Relena's staff?" he whispered to Trowa. Quickly, he assumed a more neutral expression. "Dorothy," he greeted, smiling his best "business meeting" smile. "Yes, it was quite pleasant." In the back of his mind, he wondered faintly if Relena had sent Dorothy purposefully...and if so, if he'd done something to somehow offend the Vice Minister.
Dorothy's tiny smile widened into an amused smirk at the momentary flash of surprise on Quatre's face.
Trowa moved forward to stand in front of Dorothy, remembering the last time they met. "How have you been, Dorothy?" he asked, reaching down to take her hand in his.
"Still the lion that protects its pride? But you see, this jacket is too short to hide a sword in, Trowa," she observed wryly, "I have been fine. Miss Relena keeps me busy and out of trouble, which should offer you some relief."
Trowa smiled. "It is good to see you, Dorothy," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "That's really what I wanted to say. Quatre doesn't need me to protect him. He's quite fine on his own. I was just remembering that the last words we spoke together were of home and survival. I'm just glad you made it through."
Her gaze traveled smoothly over Quatre before returning to Trowa with another polite nod. "As much a home as anyplace left to me. Although, Miss Relena does buy me such wonderful toys," she said with a smile, "Shall we then?"
Trowa turned to glance at Quatre. "Yes, I think so," he said. "Quatre?"
Quatre nodded. "Fine with me," he replied, glancing again at the blond woman. "Thank you for meeting us here. It is good to see you again, in better circumstances."
She smiled at Quatre, that curious knowing smirk that still managed somehow to be polite. "But of course. Miss Relena meant to honor you, I think, by having her personal attaché greet you, although I suspect this is as much a warning to me to play nicely just this once," she said, "Consider yourself lucky. At least you were not Wufei to be met by Zechs."
Trowa frowned slightly. Something about the tone of the conversation and Quatre's expression felt familiar. He looked down and then back up and sighed audibly as a snippet of a memory flitted through his mind.
"But you don't have to play at being nice, do you?" Trowa said, looking at the blond young woman.
"Perhaps," she replied cryptically, "And perhaps it was fate. Time will tell, I suppose." She smiled then and nodded politely at them both before turning slightly away and gesturing for them to join her. "I have a car waiting to take us back to the estate. I'm sure you would like to rest a bit before being plunged into the thick of things once again."
"Yes, that would be nice, actually," Quatre replied as he fell into step beside Trowa. "So Wufei has already arrived... do you know if Heero or Duo will be coming as well?"
"They arrived together," Dorothy replied, "With a family, from what I've been told, although I haven't had the chance to have met them yet. Miss Relena seemed quite pleased."
"A family?" Trowa said, then looked at Quatre, having the oddest feeling.
Quatre met Trowa's gaze, his eyes wide and a bit startled. He leaned towards the taller youth, and whispered, "I...I'm not surprised by that...I should be.... Somehow, I already knew it..." He blinked, confusion shimmering in his eyes.
"So did I," Trowa said, softly. "Well, this is going to be stranger than I'd first thought. Or maybe, just par for the course." He shrugged, then placed a hand on Quatre's arm.
Dorothy affected to have not noticed the exchange, although one forked eyebrow arched up delicately as she watched them both from the corner of her eyes. As she came to the front doors to the terminal, she held them open for Trowa and Quatre, "Your luggage will be taken to the estate for you."
"Shall we?" Dorothy asked, nodding towards a tasteful dark limousine waiting at the curb for them all.
Trowa squeezed Quatre's arm slightly, then moved to the limousine and got in.
With a brief nod to Dorothy, Quatre followed the green-eyed youth, stretching out his legs as he settled into the car. He felt a bit jittery for some odd reason, and tried to relax again as he had when Trowa had first picked him up at the office.
Trowa moved his arm up around Quatre's shoulders, resting his hand at the back of the blond pilot's neck. Gently, he began stroking the back of Quatre's neck, ignoring appearances.
Dorothy followed them to the car and climbed in after them, settling across from them as she signaled the driver. One hand absently smoothed the dress over her legs as she shifted primly before giving them both a polite smile. Strangely, however, she made no comment to either of them as the car smoothly pulled away from the curb.
"You've been to the mansion before, Quatre. What's it like?" Trowa asked.
Giving a contented sigh at the feeling of Trowa's soothing touch on his neck, Quatre opened his eyes, smiling at him. "It's very beautiful," he replied. "The architecture is absolutely amazing... There's so much history in the mansion. You can just *see* it in every room--events of generations past..."
"Any secret passageways?" Trowa asked.
Laughing softly, the blond nodded. "There are places that I wonder if Relena even knows about." He glanced at Dorothy, "I imagine she hasn't had the time for simple things like exploring. Has she been well?"
"Harried, but well. She has a great deal of work to do, although her loyal staff ensures she gets her rest," Dorothy replied with a smile, "Although she was quite intrigued by the bay. Her first order of business was cleaning out the garbage of a bygone era."
"So she did find that," Quatre nodded to himself, not terribly surprised at what Relena's reaction to it had been. "I'm glad to hear that she has people like yourself to help her. It would be so much to face alone."
"Hm. Even without me, Miss Relena is more than up to the task, I should think. I'm just there to observe history in the making," Dorothy replied smoothly.
"Well, I imagine she appreciates your efforts, in any case." Quatre shifted, a bit conscious of having been terse with her when first encountering the blond woman again. "It is good to see you again. I'm happy to see that you seem to be doing well, and equally glad that you are able to be there for Relena."
"You're too kind, Quatre," she replied with a gracious nod, her tone pleasant and not at all like the last time she spoke those very same words.
"You mentioned that Heero and Duo had a ... family?" Trowa asked.
"Yes. Five young boys, from what I've been told. Wufei seems to be involved somehow as well, along with one of the children's mother. Miss Relena was quite pleased to see Mister Heero settling down so domestically."
Quatre blinked at the words, starting in surprise as something remembered danced tantalizingly within reach, only to fade equally as suddenly away. He bit his lip, making a soft sound of frustration. "I... want to meet them," he murmured to Trowa, "once we get settled in. This is driving me insane, remembering and yet not. If it weren't happening to you, too, I would think that I actually *was* going mad..."
Trowa nodded. "We will," he said, definitely.
"I doubt you'll have much choice in that matter," Dorothy interjected, "As from all accounts the pilots are quite devoted to the children."
The limo came to rest in front of the steps, stopping smoothly. As with the other pilots, there were people to get their luggage and bring them into the house and to their rooms, which were located in the same wing as Heero, Duo and Wufei. They were told that they had about an hour before the evening meal which would be in a dining room on the first floor. They had only to go to the main lobby and staff would show them the correct direction.
The small suite was well appointed and even cheerful.
Once behind closed doors, Trowa sat down on the sofa and leaned back. "Oh well, what fun," he said, glancing around.
"What fun?" Quatre questioned as he joined his love on the sofa, tucking one leg beneath him as he sat. "Do you mean being here? Or this odd memory that keeps coming up?"
"A little of both," Trowa replied loosening his tie. "I could say it's good to see that some things never change, but I'd be lying. Dorothy seems to be in fine form."
The blond winced slightly, "Yes, that she is. Though I think I would have been surprised to see her any different." He paused a moment, sighing slightly as he leaned against Trowa. "Thank you for being so kind to her at first. I wasn't... quite like I should have been. It startled me to see her for some reason."
Trowa sighed deeply, sliding his arms around Quatre. "It was because of you, you know. I remembered the last time when you tried to talk to her. It was my hope that she might have heard what you were trying to say." He then shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she did hear."
"Seeing her here... I like to think that she did. But like you say, who knows? Even after our visit here, we still might not be sure of that." Quatre found himself rather fascinated by Trowa's loosened tie, toying with it until he'd pulled it off.
"So," Trowa said, looking down into teal colored eyes, "I have to admit that when I first received the invitation, one of the first things that came to mind was what type of accommodations would be available. Also, would there be an opportunity to... umm, be alone with you."
Looking around at the suite, Quatre noticed doors leading to what were obviously two bedrooms. He shrugged slightly, unable to repress the small but mischievous smile that insisted on appearing. "Well... it seems we've been given a choice as to how to handle things. I don't imagine that we have to use... *all* the rooms." Then he blinked, as he realized the implications of what he'd said. "Um... oh, you know what I mean," he grinned, leaning up to gently kiss the green-eyed youth.
Trowa smiled a little, then closed his eyes slowly as Quatre kissed him. His fingers moved into the flaxen hair and massaged Quatre's scalp as he deepened the kiss.
Quatre felt himself melt, irresistibly drawn to press closer to the other pilot. Running his hands over the solid warmth of Trowa's chest, he broke the kiss to whisper, "Wanted time to be alone with you, too." He feathered a teasing kiss on Trowa's lips, only to pull back again, a wicked grin on his face. "Missed you... very, very much..."
Trowa's eyes drifted down to Quatre's lips. "Yeah?" he queried softly. "How much?" he added, then leaned lower to capture Quatre's mouth once again. This time the kiss was a little rougher with more passion. Parting the blond's lips with his own, Trowa slipped his tongue deeply into Quatre's warm mouth with a contented sigh.
The blond made an almost-purring noise. It had been too long, far too long. His heart ached to think of all the time they'd missed as he kept himself so locked away at Winner Corporations. Tentatively stroking Trowa's tongue with his own, he let his hands begin to answer the 'How much?' question as he reached up to push the other's suit jacket off his shoulders.
Trowa chuckled, removing the jacket the rest of the way. "Yeah," he said, watching his love with a twinkle in his eyes. "I do believe that was the question."
"Very... very... very..." Quatre punctuated the words with tender kisses as he began unbuttoning Trowa's dress shirt. He leaned up to feather his lips along the other's jaw, then whispered huskily, "Love you, you know..."
Trowa nodded. "Love you, too," he replied, leaning his head down to kiss Quatre again. Placing his hands around Quatre's face, he moved back just a little as his breath came in deep gasps. "I really hate to mention it.. and I *really* hate to mention it, but we're supposed to be at dinner in less than an hour." He leaned his forehead against Quatre's. "What I think we both have in mind will take a lot longer than that, you think?"
Quatre gave a low growl in the back of his throat, then sighed. "You... are right... though I don't want to admit it, really." Then he grinned saucily at Trowa. "We could be fashionably late..." he said, hopefully.
Trowa chuckled again, shaking his head. "You don't get it. If we start, we won't get there until breakfast. I promise you that," he said.
Gazing into the seemingly endless depths of Trowa's emerald eyes, Quatre brushed one last, brief kiss across his love's lips, then began reluctantly re-buttoning the other's shirt. "Do you know how *very* distracted I'm going to be during dinner?"
"Uh-huh," Trowa said, taking one of Quatre's hands and placing it over the rather prominent bulge in his pants. "I think I have some idea, yes."
Quatre's hand twitched, as if he were barely keeping himself from doing something he very much wanted to. His breath hissed out softly between slightly clenched teeth. "Allah, you... tempt me...."
"Then, we're even or were you speaking to the Supreme Being?" Trowa asked.
"We are most certainly even," Quatre said with an exaggerated sigh, reluctantly pulling away from his love. "Though... it would not surprise me that He would give me you like this, and such a short amount of time, in order to tempt my willpower."
"Then He is not without a sense of humor... and irony," Trowa said, moving to stand. He offered Quatre a hand up. "Let's wash up."
Quatre blinked, then closed his eyes, muttering, "I have willpower... I have willpower..." Then, shaking his head, he grasped Trowa's hand and stood. "I did say something about wanting to find the others and meet their family, didn't I?"
"Yeah," Trowa said. "We did say we would do the dinner thing, right?"
"Indeed," Quatre nodded. "What in the world was I thinking?" He grinned, picking up the discarded suit coat and offering it to Trowa.
Trowa draped the coat over the back of the sofa. "Come on," he said, pulling the blond pilot towards the bath.
TBC
End of Part 17
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