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"Persistence"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: I own Gundam Wing, a dragon (which
resides in my back yard) and possess the ability to fly at will. Pairings: 3x4 Spoilers: For episodes 3-10 Warnings: Romance, heavy lime, angst, sappy moments,
language, violence. I start out very much following the series, but
it doesn’t last long and will slide into a TWT. Some OOC (I gave
Trowa an actual personality, based on my interpretation of his character
in the series. It conflicts with the fanon view, which is why I’m
putting up the warning.) Rating: R Archived: Gundam Wing Diaries Betas: Velvet and Caitilin /thought/ *emphasized* <<vid or comm>>
"Persistence " Chapter 6 The most basic and powerful way to connect to another
person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing
we ever give each other is our attention…. A loving silence often
has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned
words.
Which left Quatre with only one option. He had to buy a replacement. He started with his favorite stores, but quickly realized the error in his thinking. Trowa wouldn’t go to exclusive brand name stores to buy a sweatshirt. So he changed directions and went to one of the local malls. Sears couldn’t help him, but the saleswoman at JC Penny was more friendly. She was actually an inch shorter than he was (and since he was at 5’1, that was rather impressive) with curly brown hair and a toothy smile. Her eyebrows shot up when he handed it to her. “Oh dear. What happened to it?” “Um…we were hiking through the mountains and
he snagged it on a bunch of tree branches. He’s laid up with
a cold right now, and I thought it would cheer him up a little if
I could get it fixed.” Quatre gave the sweatshirt in her hands
a rueful smile. “But I’ve “Hm…no, we don’t.” Quatre sagged. “But, I do remember seeing something like this one in Mervyns. You might try there.” The Arab perked up again. “Really? I will, thanks.” You couldn’t find a salesman in Mervyns if your
life depended on it, but in the end it didn’t matter. By walking
around in circles, Quatre finally stumbled across the sweatshirt.
It was exactly like the one in his hands (minus the rips and tears).
He did a little Mission Accomplished! + Quatre had to wait a half hour when he got home, because Trowa was still sleeping. When he finally did wake up, the blond was ready to climb the walls he was so impatient. “Trowa, are you finally awake?” Trowa cracked open one eye blearily. “Uh?” “Well your eyes are open at least,” Quatre muttered to himself. “Come on, wake up.” “’M awake,” Trowa grumbled. Damn, the blond could be pesky sometimes. And he wished that he’d stop bouncing all over the bed like that. “Good. Okay, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that your green sweatshirt is beyond repair.” Trowa sighed. He’d been afraid of that. Curse it, he’d really liked that sweatshirt. “The good news is,” Quatre pulled the new sweatshirt out of the Mervyns bag, “I found a replacement! It’s exactly like the old one.” Trowa accepted the new sweatshirt in a daze. He…he went looking for another one? Why? “Why did you buy me this?” “Well, the old one was beyond repair.” Quatre gave him a funny look, as if it were obvious. “…I have other sweaters.” “Yes, but that one was your favorite. You wore it all the time.” Quatre’s head cocked. Trowa looked absolutely stunned. Hadn’t anyone ever done something like this for him before? “Why is it your favorite, anyway? I couldn’t figure it out.” “…I like the pockets. They’re big.” “Ah. A good reason.” Trowa snapped off the price tag before tugging the sweatshirt over his head. It fell into place just like a worn in glove. He still couldn’t get over this. How long had it taken Quatre to find a sweatshirt just like the old one? He swallowed twice before he could whisper, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Quatre knew just by the look on Trowa’s face that he had touched the boy’s heart. With a sweatshirt, of all things. /I think I’m going to spoil him more often. This is fun./ “You’re out of water. Can I get you something to drink?” “Something besides water?” Trowa asked softly. “How about orange juice?” He didn’t think sodas would be a good idea right now. “Okay.” Quatre bounced off the bed and headed for the kitchen. Yup, replacing the sweatshirt had been a good idea. Now, what else could he do to get that kind of reaction…? + Within three days, Trowa was on the mend. He still coughed from time to time, and he tired easily, but he felt much better than he usually did. Quatre, on the other hand… “I told you to stop sleeping next to me,” Trowa grumbled. His partner was lying in bed, face flushed. He had a fever, congestion, cough, and a sore throat. “I knew you were going to get sick.” “I never get sick,” Quatre growled. The full effect of his glare was somewhat spoiled by a series of coughs. “Ugh. They can put people in space, build Gundams, and a bunch of other neat stuff, why can’t they create a cure for the common cold?” “You’re a grouchy patient.” Quatre stuck his tongue out. “Stop that. I can’t take you up on that kind of invitation right now. Have you taken any Dayquil?” Quatre scrunched further under the covers. “Yes.” “Then sleep. I’ll be in the study, alright?” *beep-beep* Quatre lifted up some, trying to see the far side of the nightstand. “Is that your communicator or mine?” “Yours.” Trowa picked it up and handed it to him. Quatre flicked it open. “04.” <<Quatre, this is H. We have a…situation.> >Quatre exchanged a quick glance with Trowa. “Continue.” <<One of the pilots has contacted us asking for help. Apparently he can’t get ahold of his normal contacts and he is quote, unquote, ‘stuck’. Can you offer him assistance?>> Trowa plucked the communicator out of Quatre’s hands. “H, this is 03. I’ll handle it.” <<Trowa?>> There was an audible pause. <<S told me about you, but…what are you doing with Quatre?>> “We decided to be partners,” Trowa responded succinctly. <<Oh. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem. Alright, if you can get 02 out we’d appreciate it. I’ll send you all the relevant information.>> “Copy that. 03, out.” “Let me get dressed.” Trowa pushed him back down on the bed. “Stay put,” Trowa ordered sternly. “I’ll go get him.” “But—” “Don’t make me tie you to the bed.” Quatre subsided grumpily. “Fine.” Swallowing a smile, he leaned down and brushed a kiss over his forehead. “Be back soon.” “You better, or I’ll send Abdul and Auda after you.” Trowa gave him a glare. He did *not* need baby-sitters. Quatre beamed back. “Hn.” + When 02 had claimed he was ‘stuck’, he hadn’t been kidding. Apparently he had hidden his Gundam in a small cave overnight, waiting out a storm. That rain had caused a mudslide at some point, and now had completely covered the entrance. Trowa stared at it, looked down at Heavyarms’s hands, and sighed. It was going to take a lot of work to get all of that mud out of his joints when this was over. “02, this is 03, over.” A face flashed onto his screen. Trowa took a moment to dispassionately observe. Heart shaped face, laughing violet eyes, chestnut hair and…a priest’s collar? Hm. <<Yo! Duo Maxwell.>> Trowa sighed slightly. Not another cheerful, energetic person. It was hard enough keeping up with just one. “Trowa Barton.” <<I appreciate the pick up, man. Normally I’d call Heero but he’s on some mission or another.>> “Hn. Wait a moment.” Trowa started to dig his way inside. Sometimes he felt like he wasn’t making much progress, because new dirt would slide down from the top, but eventually he had cleared out a peephole in the top. <<Hey, I see daylight! Tro, you are the *man*!>> He took it back. Duo was worse than Quatre. Duo babbled. Fifteen minutes of more digging, and he was able to see Duo’s position. His Gundam was sitting with legs straight out, and it was his legs that were trapped. Hm. What he needed was a Gundam sized shovel. Or that shield… “Duo. Can you detach your shield and pass it to me?” <<Sure. Hang on a sec.>> With a slight hiss the shield popped free. Duo caught it and handed it up. Trowa had to stretch Heavyarms a bit to catch it, but he was able to grab hold. He started using it to dig the mud out, which was much faster. He was able to clear the mud away in minutes. <<Hey, I think I can move now.>> Deathscythe’s legs started moving slightly, then pulled free of the wall of mud. <<Yes! And the prisoners shall go free!!>> Trowa stepped back as Deathscythe maneuvered its way out of the cave. <<That is *so* the last time I hide in caves. So, Tro my man, why are you here instead of the Quatre Winner guy?>> “Quatre’s sick.” <<Is this injured sick or…?>> “A cold.” <<Ah. Poor kid, I hope you’re taking care of him.>> Trowa rolled his eyes in despair. Yes, unfortunately, he was taking care of the grumpy blond. “He wants you to come back with me.” <<Really? I guess that would be cool. Lead on, biscuit!>> Biscuit? …no, really, he didn’t want to know. + Duo was, if possible, *more* energetic in person. He bounced into the house. Not walked, not ran, but bounced. He spun every two or three seconds to take in his full surroundings. “Wow. What, is the kid rolling in dough?” “Something like that.” Trowa led the way upstairs, silently praying for patience. “Never met a rich kid yet that I liked. What’s Quatre like?” Sweet, funny, persistent, sexy as sin, brilliant, charming. “Kind.” “Oh-ho.” Duo spun around so that he was facing him. “You like him, don’t you?” Trowa just glared. “Okay, I can take a hint.” Duo fell behind him again without saying a word, but the bounce didn’t leave his steps. Trowa was beginning to rethink the idea of bringing this braided bundle of energy near Quatre, but it was too late now. With a barely perceptible sigh he opened the bedroom door. “Trowa?” Quatre wriggled around on his pillow, blinking sleepily. “Are you back already?” “Yes.” He’d been gone six hours, but he decided not to mention that. He led Duo inside and made sure he stopped at the edge of the bed. “This is Duo Maxwell. Duo, Quatre Raberba Winner.” Quatre smiled at him, but it was a shadow to his normal smile. “Hi. Normally I’d shake hands, but…” Duo spread his hands, grinning from ear to ear. “No, that’s okay. I don’t want what you’ve got. Pleased to meet you.” “And you. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m cool. I might need to stay for a bit until I can get ‘Scythe up to spec. Is that okay?” “That’s fine, you are more than welcome here. I’ve wanted to meet all the pilots.” With effort, Quatre managed to sit up all the way. “I know how to get a hold of Chang Wufei, but not the other person you seemed to be allied with.” “Ah. That’s Heero Yuy. No sweat, blondie, I can give you his contact info. I kinda know Wuffers too. He sometimes sends me info, and it’s proven to be really accurate. In fact, he’s the best source I’ve got. Can’t get the guy to be sociable, though.” “He believes he must fight alone,” Trowa offered softly. Duo’s eyes cut to him sharply. “You actually talked to him?” Trowa nodded once. Duo’s _expression was awed. “Dude, how *did* you pull that off?” “It was after we went for Kushrenada. He stayed the night with me.” Duo hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, so maybe he’s not completely antisocial. He’s probably like Heero, what with all that ‘mission first’ crap.” “I think we should all fight together,” Quatre told him. “We are the only ones of our kind. If we are to win, we must combine forces.” “Hey, I think you’re right. I can get Heero to join me but it’ll take some fast talking if you want him to join everyone. Wuffers, though…yeah, I wish you luck on that score.” Quatre gave Trowa an amused smile. “If I can convince you, I can convince him.” Trowa shrugged. “I certainly won’t bet against you.” His eyes narrowed slightly in warning. “Just don’t convince him the way you convinced me.” Quatre grinned at him. “Wasn’t planning on it.” Trowa looked so cute when he was jealous. Duo started humming ‘can you feel the love tonight’ and got two dirty looks for it. “Hey, if you’re going to flirt in front of me, then it’s open game for me to pick on you.” Trowa felt the need for a new subject. “Go back to sleep, Quatre. We have mud to get out of our Gundams.” “Mud?” “I was stuck in a mudslide,” Duo explained wryly. “Oh. The Maguanacs will help.” Duo gave him a puzzled smile. “Uh, and who are they?” “I’ll introduce you. Quatre, go to sleep.” “Yes mother,” Quatre caroled dryly. The effect was somewhat spoiled because of his stuffed nose, making it sound a little ridiculous. Trowa swatted him over the head with a tissue box (which Duo approved of, judging by his laughter) then led the other pilot out of the room. Duo didn’t bounce this time, but he was just as cheerful as before. “I see what you mean. He’s cool.” “Hn.” “Man, if I didn’t know better, I could swear that you and Heero were related…” ~*~*~*~ Footnote: This footnote is for Caitilin, because she pointed it out to me several times: Sears and JCPenny—they’ve been around for a while, and I think they would last well into the future. I don’t see a problem with using them. Music—Duo quite often (in this fic and others) will do something pertaining to music. Quite often fanfics refer to his ‘antique’ music collection. I think I’m safe in suggesting that his taste in music in THIS fic may be a bit…eclectic.
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