Disclaimer: GW isn't mine even though I spent my last tooth wishing for that. :(
Quatre's greatest fear was that he would not know Duo on sight.
'Treize was, of course, handling it all *so* calmly. And why shouldn't he? Quatre mocked himself. After all, Treize was the victor. Treize had won the war. What did he have to fear from a Gundam pilot whose battle was two decades lost?
The same thing he had to fear from the only Gundam pilot who had collaborated with OZ--absolutely nothing.
Quatre worried about that, too. What would Duo think of him? Did Duo know that Quatre had meekly surrendured long before Wufei had died in one last desperate attempt to revitalise the Resistance? Did Duo even care, after so much time?
Treize Khushrenada reached out and tapped his knee. "They're here," he said softly.
Quatre rose, wiping sweating palms on his trousers. To his relief, he easily picked Duo out of the small crowd that walked toward them from the gate.
He was much taller, and very thin for his height. The vibrant chestnut hair that Quatre remembered so vividly was darker now, falling in a fat braid nearly to his knees. His skin was disturbingly white, almost translucent, where Quatre's had become brown and weathered. He moved slowly, as if disoriented, and beside him was a ginger-haired girl who helped him navigate the throngs with the aid of a walking stick.
Quatre swallowed hard. Duo was beautiful.
One of the OZ soldiers, an ensign or Chief of some sort, halted the group and smartly saluted. "General Khushrenada!" he barked. "Mr. Winner. I'm Ensign Tano. Sorry for the slight delay, sir," he apologised to the Winner executive. "The shuttle was late leaving."
Quatre waved that aside. He was busy drinking in the sight of his long-lost friend. Duo gazed down at his feet, reaching out to grip the hand of the young girl beside him. He said something softly to her, and after a moment she approached Quatre, tugging Duo with her.
"H-hello," she stuttered. A pretty blush spread over her pale face. "Uh--he's very happy to be here. But he doesn't remember you very well, and he wants to know if--if he can touch you."
Quatre shook his head slightly. "Touch me?" He stepped toward them, toward Duo, and reached out to take Duo's hand. To his surprise, Duo jerked away as if burned, and threw up an arm as if warding off a blow. The OZies reacted badly, going for their weapons, before slowly relaxing; Duo moved closer to the girl, and whispered something urgent.
The young woman's wide blue eyes flickered nervously to the soldiers, to Treize standing several steps behind Quatre, then finally back to the blonde man. "Please," she said. "Not touch like that. He can't see you. He wants to feel your face, so he can remember what you look like."
"Can't see me?" Oh, *why* could he only stand there and dumbly repeat this girl he didn't even know! This was Duo, Duo alive, Duo whole and standing before him, and he hadn't even greeted him! Quatre forced himself to breathe, and this time he was very careful about taking Duo's free hand. "Hello," he said softly. "Duo, it's me. Quatre. And yes, you can--feel me." He lifted the clammy hand to his cheek, biting his lip for not realising earlier that Duo was blind.
The exquisite expression in the dull violet eyes seemed to excuse his lapse. Duo's thin lips parted slightly as he ran his fingertips slowly across the angular planes of Quatre's cheeks, brushing over the neglected golden stubble, pausing at the many laugh lines beside his eyes and finally sliding to grasp Quatre's fingers tightly.
Duo drew a deep breath. "Hello," he replied.
A public spaceport had been no place for a reunion, especially with OZ soldiers hanging around, no doubt with orders to listen closely and report everything to their superiors. For all Quatre knew, Treize was doing the same thing--judging, evaluating, examining every tiny gesture for significance--but he was still a little frightened at the thought of being alone with a man he'd mourned as dead for seventeen years, and so he did not ask Treize to go. Instead, he herded Duo, the girl, and his General friend back to his car, and they returned to his estate to have their welcome in privacy.
They settled in the same sitting room in which, three months before, Quatre had played his violin for Treize and inadvertantly set the scene for an extended liaison with his long-time friend. But there was a older friend occupying his attention now, and he pulled his chair very close to Duo's and tried to accept that the dead pilot was not dead, that the lost companion was found after a horrible absence.
Once more Duo asked to feel his face, and Quatre was as fascinated by the process as Duo, revelling in the physical contact so much that Duo's gentle touch actually sent a chill up his spine.
Reluctantly, Duo broke the silence. "[What]?" he asked, not turning his head from where his blind eyes regarded Quatre or removing his hand from Quatre's face.
The young woman was immediately at his side, nervously tugging at her long skirt. "Yes?" she murmured, laying a hand on his shoulder.
A brief smile passed over Duo's face. "Quatre," he murmured. "Quatre, this is... --Mariemaia Barton. She's been my only friend for sixteen years, since she came to Rudee as just a little girl."
Mariemaia bowed slightly, uncertain, but Quatre quickly stood and prevented her from showing him any more misplaced respect. "You're welcome here, Miss Barton," he told her warmly. "If you're Duo's friend, you're mine as well."
"He's told me a lot about you, sir," she said shyly. "All the old pilots."
Treize was slowly standing. "Barton?" he asked casually. "You said your name was Barton?"
She looked at him, a little cool when she noted the OZ belt buckle he wore even though he had laid his uniform aside for this event. "Yes."
"As in Trowa Barton? The original, I mean, not the Gundam pilot?"
"He was my uncle," she admitted, confused. "My mother was Leia Barton, his sister."
Treize blanched.
Quatre looked at his friend in concern. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Treize approached Mariemaia, who seemed to experience a strong urge to back away from him. Duo, confused, took her hand to reassure her, and she straightened, lifting her chin a little bravely.
Treize moved as though to touch her, but restrained himself.
"And your father?" he asked softly. "Who was he?"
"I never knew," Mariemaia said defensively. "All I ever heard of him was that he was a Specials soldier."
Treize did touch her then, so gently that she did not even flinch, and with a strange look in his blue eyes. Then he turned to Quatre.
Smoothly the General said, "I'm afraid I must get going, Mr. Winner. I wanted to be sure that everything went off without a hitch, and I'm glad to see that it did; Mr. Maxwell, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, and at some point in the future I would like to get to know you better. Miss Barton, good evening. If you'll all excuse me?" He bowed with every ounce of chivalry and grace that only he could summon, and left quickly, his boot heels rapping out a sharp tattoo in the wood-floored hallways.
Duo asked, "Quatre? What was *he* doing here? Khushrenada?"
Quatre blinked, and looked back at his new guests. Both regarded him with curiosity and no little amazement.
"That *was* Khushrenada, wasn't it?" Duo repeated, losing confidence when Quatre failed to answer.
The Arabian came to himself with a start, and put aside his speculations on Treize's abrupt disappearance.
"Yes," he replied. "That was. Duo, Miss Barton--I think there's a lot to fill you in on."
End Part 3
(:./erin/20years3)
