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"WYWO Christmas Alternate"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: sap Pairings: 3x4 Summary: Wywo universe. Trowa takes holiday decorating
into his own hands and shows his Designer Lover the True meaning of
Christmas the only way Quatre knows. Decorating. "WYWO Christmas Alternate" “Quatre, what is that?” Quatre looked up from his task to send his lover a confused look, “It’s a Menorah, Trowa. Didn’t you ever take Multi-culturalism in school?” Trowa rolled his eyes, “I am aware of what it is, Quatre. I just don’t know why you are putting it on our mantle.” “It helps balance the right side of the room, since the tree is in that corner.” Quatre said, placing the antique-gold Menorah onto the Mantle and arranged it so it was at the perfect complementary angle to showcase the tree. Trowa stopped dead from his assigned task of assembling a stupid miniature skating rink to go the with the stupid miniature Fire house, town hall, and lighted houses that he had already set up, “I’m not Jewish, and neither are you.” Quatre leveled a glare at his lover. “That isn’t very accepting, Trowa! I didn’t think you were disrespectful like that!” Quatre huffed angrily and then sporadically jumped to adjust the tinsel draped across the front living room window so that it tied perfectly. It was about 2 weeks until Christmas, so Quatre was holiday decorating like an ADHD ten year old hyped up on sugar. He had already decorated the fake tree in a silver and red motif, topped with a perfect Crystal Star and had changed all the welcome mats in the house to match the holiday dishes. The livingroom was Christmas central-- lights, a miniature snow village (which Trowa had bled over a few times trying to get the little lights in the sharp, stupid little ceramic holes), the tree, lights, and framed Christmas scenes all over. “I’m not being un-accepting, Quatre! I think it’s a wonderful holiday celebrated by those that believe it. But I think it’s wrong to have a Menorah within arms lengths of the Nativity Scene. Don’t you think that’s disrespectful?” “Jesus was Jewish, wasn’t he?” Quatre replied from the coffee table this time, placing matching sets of empty mugs on the table, just cause they looked ‘cute’. “You are completely missing the point, Quatre!” Trowa finally began to get mad. He had practically begged on his hands and knees for Quatre to reschedule his meeting in New York to spend Christmas with him and from the moment he had walked into the house and seen Trowa’s pathetic attempt of Christmas spirit with nothing but a little garland-made reindeer on the table the blonde had become a man obsessed! Quatre had been too wrapped up with ‘the design’ for so long that it had idled his BRAIN! Quatre looked on the mantle: on the right he had a complete crystal and porcelain Nativity scene which he had bought two years ago in Paris and on the right he had the Menorah. He shot Trowa a scathing look. The Menorah was delicately carved and was roughly the same weight in the room as the nativity. So, with slow, easy words, Quatre began to explain, “I need to balance the weight of the nativity scene so the Tree stays the focal point of the room, Trowa. Without a focal point the design falls apart.” Trowa put down the little magnetized Skaters and abandoned the pond. This was just too much. “Are you kidding me?” Quatre obviously wasn’t. He moved to start hanging white-dusted garland over the curtain rods to complement the icicle tinsel he had put up earlier in his first bout of design-madness. The phone began to ring and Trowa hurried up to get it, happy for the excuse to cool down before he beat his lover over the head with the silver candy-cane stenciled serving tray he was putting out! “Barton Antiques.” Trowa answered with false cheer. “Hey Trowa! The DVD player’s screwing up again. Can you tell Mitchell how you fixed it last time?” Cathy asked from the other line. Trowa could hear Mitchell in the background muttering something along the lines of ‘I can fix it myself, damn it!’ Just the thought of it brought a smile to his face. He turned to look into his winter-wonderland living room and made a split-second decision, “I’m on my way!” “What! No you don’t need to come over, Trowa! Trowa! Trowa?” He was already on his way out the door. ~~~~~~ Trowa pulled up to his sister’s place with a hundred thoughts running through his mind, but his anger calmed as soon as he pulled into the driveway. Cathy had the best Christmas decorations there were at the front of her house. Two disheveled looking Snowmen stood, slightly lopsided, in front. One wearing a hat, the other some recycled mittens, and both looking wonderful because they were done by his three year old nephew. Walking in the door, Trowa was greeted with warm waves. Cathy was sitting on the couch with Nathan, sipping a hot chocolate while he smashed his tonka trucks into a head on collision, then another, and another. Looking up, Nathan smiled at his favorite uncle and showed him his cars proudly for Trowa to look surprised and impressed at (not that Trowa wasn’t the man who had bought them for him a few months ago, but he still oohed appreciably for the toddler’s benefit). Trowa took the offered seat on the couch and Cathy deposited Nathan into his lap and disappeared. He hadn’t been expecting babysitting duty as soon as he walked into the door! “Um...hi.” Crunch. The Trucks collided again with grunt sound effects. Trowa picked up a discarded truck from the floor and began to roll it along up Nathan’s leg. It was easy prey for a T-Bone smash up. Crunch! Nathan giggled as Trowa made the little truck roll a few times, and then righted it to come back for more punishment. If Quatre had been here, he would have taken the truck away and began to put stickers and smiley faces on the truck. Poor truck. The Truck had to take anything anyone could throw at it; be it toddler smash ups, being stepped on, being colored on, or used to transport Barbie dolls, the Tonka had no choice in that matter. At least it was sturdy. Poor, Poor Truck. He sympathized with it, he really did. “Nathan.” Trowa said, getting the toddlers undivided attention (for a few fleeting moments), “Never marry a decorator.” Crunch. “Exactly.” Trowa responded gravely and moved his little truck to the safety of the coffee table. Cathy came then, smiling ruefully, “It can’t be that bad!” She consoled and handed him a hot mug. “Two words for you Cathy: Christmas. Decorating.” Crunch. Trowa smiled at that and let his head fall back against the plush couch, “You got it, Nathan!” Trowa lifted the mug to his lips and then realized that it was not coffee. He let a warm smile curve his lips; Cathy’s famous Hot Chocolate never ceased to make him smile. The last few years ‘Santa’ had given him a whole jar of her mix for him to make at home, and he had a feeling he had some left. He had been on the road with the show for so long without a break that he didn’t get to indulge in it often. Cathy winked at him, Nathan crashed his cars again, and from somewhere upstairs Mitchell started swearing. This was Christmas. Real Christmas. Quatre was so worked up about the damn decorations that he was completely missing spending any time with anyone. A light bulb flashed on in his head. “Can I pick around your basement, Cathy?” ~~~~~~ Quatre heard Trowa’s jeep pull into the driveway and he sat himself down on the top step of his ladder. He knew he had pissed Trowa off with the whole Menorah thing, but he hadn’t realized he’d pissed the man off enough to make him disappear for almost an hour and a half. Quatre had finished the garland and was deciding on changing the tree’s theme to simply white and silver instead of red and silver just to get his mind to stop planning what to say once Trowa came in. He always had ready-to-execute 12 step plans for dealing with people, but Trowa wasn’t like anyone else. Every time Quatre would start, Trowa would do something to throw him completely off balance. Trowa re-emerged into the loft apartment, his cheeks pink with cold and an empty cardboard box in his hands. With nothing but a loving smile in Quatre’s direction, Trowa turned to the tree and ransacked it! Taking off every ball, star, and ornament he could get his hands on! “Have you gone MAD!” Quatre demanded, leaping off the ladder to protect his tree. Trowa didn’t agree nor deny; he just shot his panicked blonde lover another smile that said “I know what I’m doing” and “You’ll thank me for this”. Trowa began manhandling the tree with earnest, the box of reject ornaments growing and growing beside him as his touch became less then gentle with the little plastic balls. The tree was empty except for the twists of garland and a few strains of tinsel that hadn’t fallen off in the attack. But Trowa wasn’t finished. He took his box and started around the room, taking down the Christmas pictures, the figurines, and everything he could get his hands on! Quatre felt himself begin to hyperventilate as Trowa got closer to his cardholder, begging in his head for Trowa to be gentle with it! That one had been his mother’s! But Trowa swept over the card holder without a second thought, reaching around it to stuff a mistletoe coffee mug into the basket. He left the nativity, he left the little round St. Nick Card holder, and he left the window that Quatre had been agonizing over completely in tact. The room was in shambles! Trowa was trying to give him grey hairs! “What in the world are you doing, Baby?” Quatre finally breathed out when Trowa’s destruction seemed to putter out. Trowa dropped the box of Christmas junk hard on the kitchen floor (the sound of breaking balls and smashing coffee mugs not lost on either of them). But then Trowa picked up another box from where he had settled it on the floor out of Quatre’s view. He gently laid the new box down in the middle of the ransacked room and opened it up. He first pulled out a little popsicle stick cabin, hot glue bits obvious between the uneven and slanted walls, and put that on the table in place of the mugs “Heero made this in grade 7; this is his first foyee into woodworking. Needless to say, mine was better.” Trowa explained with a smirk. Next he pulled out a handful of paper candy canes, stars, bows, and pictures, all with brightly colored loops of yarn coming out the tops. Handing half over to Quatre, Trowa began to place them on the tree “Cathy made the wreaths with the pink strings, Heero and I made the wreaths with the blue strings.” Trowa explained. “That was the same year Mom wanted us to make popcorn garland. It didn’t make it out of the popper” Trowa laughed, pulling out a little preserved string of popcorn which he hung over one of the branches like tinsel. Out came a little stick-and-branch manger, a paint-by number stain-glass window of a tree, and a set of holiday frames and picture, each with a story. Quatre looked down into his hands at a colored in star, the orange crayon hastily scribbled across the mostly white cut-out. ‘to Unle QuaTre’ and “NatHan” was scrawled across it, the toddler’s writing unmistakable. Quatre felt tears burning the back of his eyes as the ransacked design was soon replaced with household knick-knacks and ornaments. Quatre hung up Nathan’s star, and practically ran into the storage room He dug into one of the many boxes he had brought to stay at Trowa’s house, pulling out a little red basket with ‘Merry Christmas’ glued to it. From it Quatre began to contribute his own paper ornaments and Popsicle stick creations. Once they were done, Quatre surveyed the room. It looked much more festive then any of Quatre’s creations. “Trowa, it’s beautiful” Quatre sighed, moving up to wrap his arms around his lover, “Much better then what a professional designer could come up with” Quatre said with a rueful smile. Trowa dropped a kiss on the edge of his lover’s nose. “You know, now that this place is full of old memories, how about we add a new one? Together?” From out of his back pocket, Trowa produced a single plastic sprig of mistletoe. Showing it to Quatre with a wink, Trowa stretched up high and hung it in the centre of the door frame, dangling right above their heads. Quatre smiled and looked up at it, waiting for Trowa to turn his attention back to him, “It looks great.” Trowa pressed his lips against Quatre’s in a deep, toe curling kiss. Quatre giggled, holding Trowa close and leaning in for another kiss, “I think we should make it a tradition from now on!” Trowa happily agreed, touching their lips together for another kiss. “Definitely.”
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