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"Snow Day 2"Written By: Dentelle_noir Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing AC or the
characters. GW belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. This
is a work of fiction and written for fun, not profit Rating: PG 13 Warnings: Pure fluff. Sick!Quatre. Threats of
bodily harm. Pairings: 3x4 Summary: Having defended his lover from Heero
and Duo, Trowa's body gives into the cold too. " Snow Day 2" A foreign invader was thrown into the heart of the Kleenex stronghold. It was immediately looked down upon as a spy and sent to the hold (located in the fold between the blankets and the pillow). “Hey.” Quatre grumbled. Trowa lifted a brow and turned to look at his lover from the kitchen, “it bothers you that I stole a Kleenex?” He asked with sarcasm. Quatre shifted groggily so that he could look at Trowa puttering around in the kitchen. As the tea boiled he saw Trowa stop and rub his forehead as if there was a pressure building up right behind his eyes. Uh Oh. Trowa poured the prepared water into a carafe. “Trowa?” Quatre asked, his voice raw with coughing. Trowa immediately puttered over, carafe and mugs in hand. Quatre noticed how relieved Trowa was to sit himself on the edge of the bed as he asked what he needed. Taking pity on the taller man, Quatre opened his arms wide. “Come lie down with me for a while?” He asked. Trowa slid bonelessly down to drop his head back onto the mound of pillows Quatre had set up. Quatre passed the greatest test of love when he pulled his warm cocoon of blankets down to let in the colder intruder. Trowa curled down into the blankets and turned so they shared the same pillow. A wet patch of roan hair brushed against Quatre’s cheek. “Your hair is still wet!” Quatre complained as a shiver of cold from the ice-cube under the blankets with him chased up and down his spine. Trowa brushed the offending piece of hair off Quatre, hoping that would placate his miserable lover. “Now you’re sick too. That’s what you get for acting like a child.” Quatre huffed, passing his Kleenex box over. The Kleenex army (who had now embraced the previous intruder into their ranks) rejoiced at the prospect of enough recruits to take Kenya once Mongolia was theirs. “I was defending your honor.” Trowa grunted. “You chased Heero and Duo outside and started a snowball war. You were two against one and you had no jacket, stupid. You were doomed for failure.” Trowa didn’t reply, another sneeze the only proof of guilt. Quatre dropped his head back onto his pillows in misery, curling around Trowa’s rapidly warming body for comfort. Trowa slid himself into position to wrap his arms around his lover and hold him close, but for some reason the taller man could not fathom, he was far too comfortable under all the blankets and his headache kept building right behind his eyebrows. Maybe Quatre was right about coming down with the cold too. “If you need anything you’d better tell me now, because any longer and I don’t think I could make myself get up, Cat.” With a sign of resignation, Quatre rolled his head to the side and found Trowa’s lips with his own, “You did a great job, Tro. Have a sleep” Quatre commanded, watching the tension leave the older man’s body completely. Heero and Duo took that minute to knock gently at the door. “We brought you lunch as promised?” Duo tried with a begging tone. He knew Quatre had not forgiven him for the snowball incident and no one wanted to face the blonde’s considerable wrath. “It’s open.” Quatre replied, already seeing his lover’s eyes drooping from the influence of the stress, a cold, and the warm blankets. The two let themselves in slowly, hoping to avoid the receiving end of Trowa’s handgun, and Duo held a take-out box in front of him as a peace offering. “This whole trip was your idea, Duo. I blame you.” Quatre said, staring Duo down. “You can’t! Getting sick isn’t caused by just the cold, you know. You have to be a little sick first and then the cold just lowers your resistance. Plus, this was just as much your idea as mine!” “No, I blame you for Trowa getting sick too.” Quatre hit him with the patented Winner Glare (which made hardened executive quake in their boots and the Kleenex army lovingly salute) “You should know better.” Duo placed the food down on the side of the bed very, very slowly. “This vacation is not turning out like I had planned,” Duo complained to his lover, “guess it’s just you and me, Heero.” Heero began to nod but stopped half-way. A violent sneeze racked his body and left shivers running up and down his spine. “Oh Shit, not you too!” Quatre offered the box of Kleenex to his comrade. The Army rejoiced and set their eye on Australia.
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