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"Secrets"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: All of those who agree that the boys
should belong to me say “Aye!” Pairings: 3x4 Spoilers: Nope. Warnings: Lemon, yaoiness, bit of language, AU,
I wrote it (duh). Rating: NC-17 Betas: Lucy and Velvet Archived: Gundam Wing Diaries Author’s Notes: Driving an hour to and from work is dangerous. It gives the plot bunnies time to play. For people who love a build-up of a 3x4…here you go! Oh, and just so you know, I’m putting a whole new spin on empathy, telepathy and whatnot. *grin* That’s your only hint. /other people’s thoughts/ //Trowa’s or Quatre’s thoughts// <phone> <<mental conversations>>
"Secrets " Chapter Eight: Ramifications, II
His host was a trim man that was obviously of Chinese descent. He was dressed in casual khaki slacks and a red button down shirt, hair drawn back in a pony tail. There was a laptop open and running in front of him, and a mug of coffee sitting next to his elbow. As he came in, the laptop was closed and set off to the side. Sally was still in the uniform Quatre had seen her in last night—apparently she had just gotten off shift—a mug of tea in her hands. “Good morning.” “Morning. You look much better,” Sally noted approvingly. “Let me do formal introductions. Quatre, this is Chang Wufei, a dear friend of mine even if he is a grouch most of the time. Wufei, this is Quatre Winner.” They exchanged polite nods. Quatre moved to take the chair Wufei indicated, studying the man as he went. This was a person with a very strong mind, and an even stronger sense of honor. Sally had good taste in friends, it appeared. He could feel Sally’s hesitation, and looked at her even as he settled into his seat. “You can tell him. He can be trusted with anything.” Wufei blinked. “I can?” “Yes.” Quatre turned to him, smile growing at the surprise on the other’s face. “She was wondering on how to ask, I think. But I can tell when people are to be trusted and when they’re not. You can.” “Ah…should you check with Trowa before I spill the beans?” Sally mentally kicked herself. Well of course Quatre could sense any questions she might have. He could feel all of LA; getting a read on her was a piece of cake. “No. Its fine, he’d agree anyway. And I think you chose to put us here for a very good reason. This is not a man to be taken lightly, in any sense. Am I correct?” Wufei had never thought that either of his guests were simple patients of Sally’s. She would not have moved them to his home in the middle of the night unless it was either dire, or a very unique situation. But he hadn’t been able to study anything out the night before. The boys had immediately fallen asleep on arriving. Now he was rectifying that. Quatre Winner wasn’t just a rich kid with too much time and money—he was very sharp, nearly empathetic with people, and much too mature for any seventeen year old. What was going on? Sally nodded wryly. “Correct. Wufei has the ability to fight your father and win, if it comes to that. And it might.” “Sally,” Quatre said dryly, “we’re talking about my father. There is no ‘might’.” “And why am I being drawn into this?” Wufei inquired a tad too politely. “Just for future reference.” “Because these boys need help,” Sally returned soberly. “And I can’t give it.” “…indeed. That explained everything beautifully, Sally, thank you so much for that lovely contribution.” “You’re getting snarky in your old age,” Sally muttered. “Considering you’re two years older than I am, I choose to ignore that comment. Since Sally apparently won’t answer, why don’t you explain Quatre?” Wufei sat back, preparing himself for anything. “I’m an empath.” …except that. Wufei frowned. “I see. How strong are you?” “Why do people always ask that question first?” Quatre wondered aloud. “I don’t try to eavesdrop on other’s emotions, you know. Much. But to answer the question, I can tell you if someone stubbed their toe on the other side of LA.” Wufei managed to catch his jaw before it could crash into his coffee mug, and kept it there with sheer willpower. “I see. Who knows of this?” “My sister and two of my bodyguards. And Trowa.” Wufei felt privileged, somehow, to be included in that small circle. “I somehow have the feeling that it would be more informative for you to start at the beginning.” “Right. I’ve been an empath since I was eight, and slowly learning to focus my abilities and shield against it ever since. Roughly six months ago I ran across someone that I couldn’t feel, unless I truly focused on him. And even then it was faint. After a month of knowing each other, and of becoming close friends, I told him of my ability and got the shock of my life when he told me he was a telepath.” Wufei held up a hand. “Let me get this straight. The person you came in with is a telepath?” “Yes. His name is Trowa Barton. And before you ask, he’s as strong as I am.” Quatre waited for Wufei to nod before continuing. “One thing led to another, and we eventually decided to alter our shields to include each other. This was done for two reasons: Trowa had never been able to ‘hear’ me even when he wanted to, and including him in my shields corrected that. And two, his shields weren’t as strong as mine, so it helped him to gain a stronger control over his ability.” Wufei could follow this more easily than Sally had. Psychic powers were a hobby of his, and what Quatre was saying made complete sense to him. “What went wrong?” “Our alterations went beyond what we had planned. We became each other’s focal point. If we lose contact of each other for any length of time—or distance, I think—then we lose any ability to shield.” “That…would be a problem, yes.” Wufei considered the facts laid in front of him. Now why would their shields alter without their conscious direction? Only a very strong emotion could influence them in such a manner. Of course, that would probably mean—“Are you lovers?” Quatre blinked, nonplussed. “Yes.” “Ah. That explains everything.” Sally swallowed a smile. “The other reason why I brought you here is because Wufei is an authority on psychic ability.” “Well, as much as one can be without having any of said abilities.” Wufei’s negligent flick of his fingers negated the importance of this. “The only way that I could explain such a dramatic shift with both of you was through a strong emotional tie—being lovers, in other words. How long have you been intimate?” Quatre was a little uneasy under the question, but it had been asked so neutrally he couldn’t believe that it was to satisfy Wufei’s curiosity. “Over four months.” “Have you been separated during that time?” Quatre thought back, slowly shaking his head. “No. Never more than a day. And we’re usually within a mile or so of each other, considering we live right next door.” “Hm. That would have an effect as well. If you had lived on opposite ends of a city, for instance, or spent weekends apart, then I don’t think it would have been as dramatic. As it is you’ve add layer after layer of flaxen cord—it won’t be easy to break.” Quatre denied this with a vehement slash of his hand. “I don’t want it broken.” Wufei had seen, briefly, the tenderness that Trowa had shown toward his lover. It was apparent that their relationship was deeper than need. And he envied them for it. “I wouldn’t either, in your place.” Quatre focused, getting a bearing on the man. Wufei was slightly envious of them, but that was mixed up in understanding as well. Good. “I’m not entirely sure if you can break it,” Wufei admitted thoughtfully. He tipped his head back to trace invisible lines of thought on the ceiling. “How long did it take before you realized you couldn’t feel Trowa?” “About three hundred miles,” Quatre stated firmly. Sally’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “That far?!” Wufei almost swallowed his tongue. “Ah. In that case, then I would say that you definitely *can’t* break this.” “I’ve seen what happens when they’re separated,” Sally told him with a muscle ticking in her jaw. “It nearly killed Quatre.” “That’s a bit severe,” Quatre protested. “Quatre, your blood pressure was through the roof, your heartbeat was becoming more and more erratic and you were nearly comatose in pain. Another few days of that and you would have had a heart attack.” Sally dared him with her eyes to refute it. Quatre wasn’t quite up to that silent challenge. “Um, well, since we’re not going to try it’s hardly a valid point anyway.” He felt Trowa stir in the back of his mind and reached out. <<Morning, love.>> <<Morning. Where are you?>> <<The dining room. I’ve been filling in our host, Chang Wufei, on the situation. Apparently he’s not your normal guy. Sally claims that he has enough power to fight my father and win, and he’s something of an authority on psychic ability.>> <<Interesting. Does he have an ability?>> <<No. He doesn’t need one, in my opinion. This is a very intelligent man.>> <<I gathered that last night. He has a very strong mind. You decided to trust him, I take it.>> <<Yes.>> <<Hn. Let me untangle myself from all of these bedcovers and find my pants.>> <<No rush.>> Quatre blinked back into the real world, startled to see Wufei studying him closely. “What?” “You were just talking to him, weren’t you.” Quatre, a little bemused by the other’s intensity, nodded. “Fascinating. I’ve never seen someone do that before. You said Trowa was your equal.” Wufei rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It would explain why your bond to him is possible. If you had tried this with someone weaker than you were in ability, it would overwhelm your partner eventually despite your good intentions. Hm.” Wufei fell into deeper thought, temporarily forgetting that anyone was sitting with him. Sally, used to this, rolled her eyes and went to the more mundane details. “Is he coming out soon?” “He’s rummaging for his pants.” “As we’re waiting, let’s clear a few other matters up,” Sally suggested. “Rashid wants to come here and play guard dog. I gave him something useful to do—like buying clothes for Trowa—instead but you’ll have to call him soon. Your sister Iria is apparently with him, and demanding to see you. And your father is threatening to sue unless I produce you.” Quatre looked to Wufei. “I would like to see both Rashid and Iria, but I have no wish to impose any further than I have.” Wufei waved this concern away. “Nonsense. You and your lover are the first interesting thing that has happened all year. Sally was quite correct in bringing you here. I wish to help. As for you father, I would like to tackle him myself if you have no objections.” “I’ll cheer you on from the sidelines,” Quatre promised. “My head is still sore from the past four days. I’m not quite up to a confrontation yet.” “Understood. The phone is right behind you, if you wish to make any calls.” Quatre accepted the break and went to the counter, picking up the black cordless phone and dialing Iria’s cellphone number in. It barely rang before his sister picked up. <Yes?> “Morning, sister dearest.” <QUATRE! Are you alright? What the hell is this all about?> Quatre grimaced. “I can’t explain it over a phone. But if you can, tell Rashid that it’s okay to come here and I’ll explain everything.” <Damn right you will. Let us pay out and we’ll be there in a few minutes. Rashid, do you know where he is? Are you sure? Quatre, give me the number you’re staying at just in case.> Quatre looked at Wufei helplessly. “What’s your phone number?” “555-3421.” Quatre obediently repeated that. “Okay?” <Okay. Love you, little brother. Be there in ten.> Quatre rubbed the back of his neck absently after he had hung up the phone. “This is going to be so much fun…” <<Yup.>> Quatre scowled. <<You’re not funny, Trowa.>> The only response to that was a mental snicker. + Iria came in with a flurry of shopping bags, which she immediately dropped by the door so that she could grab Quatre and hug him with the appropriate amount of force. Quatre hugged her back, grateful to see her. Iria was the calm voice in the family, and besides it had been at least eight months since he had seen her. “You scared ten years off of me, you idiot,” she muttered into his hair. “If I get any grey hairs, they’re going to have your name all over them.” “Sorry,” he whispered contritely. “It never occurred to us that anything like this could happen—” “And that’s another thing. Who is ‘us’?” Quatre felt Trowa approach from behind and pulled back to look over his shoulder. “Iria, meet Trowa.” His sister took one look at the lithe brunette walking to them, and her jaw dropped. “Holy moley. Is that your boyfriend?” “Yes, I am.” There was a distinct twinkle in Trowa’s eyes as he slipped an arm around Quatre’s waist. “Hot damn. If I were ten years younger, little brother, I would be give you a run for your money. Nice to meet you, Trowa.” She held out her hand, pleased by the firm handshake she received. “Now, let’s sit down and play a game called ‘Explain everything to Iria’.” It took fifteen minutes to give Iria the same spiel that Quatre had given Sally and Wufei. It was smoother this time—apparently practice made perfect. When he was done, Iria was frowning darkly. “Okay, I can see how things got a little out of hand. I must say that you two aren’t entirely to blame for that, although I wish you had talked it over with somebody else before you decided on altering anything. Still, I can see how it all happened. I’m not at all pleased how Father’s reacting to things though. What are we doing about that?” Quatre sighed, covering his eyes with one hand. “Nothing at the moment. He’s threatening to sue unless I’m produced. I’m not very gung-ho about the idea of telling him everything, but unless we do so—or at least, tell him an edited version of it—he’s going to cause even more trouble.” “That’s where I come in, I believe,” Wufei murmured. There was a tale-tell gleam of anticipation flickering over his face. “It’s my job to slay the ogres, correct?” “Iria,” Sally’s smile had a predatorily hint to it, “let me introduce you to Doctor Chang Wufei, specializing in psychology and parapsychology.” Iria’s eyes narrowed. “Chang…would you be of the Chang Clan?” He nodded. “Ah…I think I’m beginning to see. So why are you interested in helping my younger brother?” “Iria.” Quatre met her eyes with calm resolve. “You can trust him.” Iria knew firsthand just how accurate Quatre’s empathy was. “You’re absolutely sure of that?” “Yes. He is very curious about us, and wants to ask a great many questions…but most of all, he wants to protect us. I think someone close to him was hurt once because of their abilities. He does not want that history repeated.” “Your talent is almost frighteningly precise, Quatre Winner,” Wufei whispered. He cleared his throat slightly, regaining his normal equilibrium. “Ms. Winner, I have no intentions of exploiting either teenager. And I have a score to settle with your father at any rate. You can trust them with me.” Wufei abruptly remembered that Trowa was a telepath and his eyes cut over to the brunette in panic. Trowa’s eyes met his in reassurance. <<I will not reveal your secret. Relax.>> Wufei’s eyes went wide as he heard that voice in his head…then closed in temporary relief. “Xie xie. To continue, if you and Rashid wish to stay here then I have no objections. Our first task, however, is to gain a more complete understanding of Quatre’s and Trowa’s bond. Then we may bring in Winner.” “We’re going to have to tell Father something soon,” Iria warned. “He’ll blow up otherwise.” “I will send a message informing him of Quatre’s whereabouts,” Wufei told her. There might have been a smirk on his face when he said it, but no one dared to point it out. “After I have done that, we will have to tell Trowa’s sister everything.” “Cathy?” Trowa’s head shot up. “Why?” Wufei frowned at him. “You are surprised by what I say?” “It’s hard to hear you,” Trowa confessed. “Your mind is too strong and guarded. Unless the memory is strong, or I really focus, I can’t hear anything but static.” “…I see.” He turned to Quatre, sitting within the circle of Trowa’s arms. “And you?” “It’s the same with me. You are difficult to get a reading on. It’s actually rather relaxing.” “I can see how it would be,” Wufei allowed. He wanted to have a more in-depth conversation about it later on. He had a feeling that he would learn a great deal from it. “To return to my original point, I called your sister last night and arranged for a private jet to pick her up and bring her here. She was not at all pleased that you left with only a note to explain your whereabouts. Apparently it was a very brief note.” Quatre turned a suspicious look onto his lover. “What did it say?” “Um…” Trowa knew that Look. He was going to get quite the tongue lashing once they were in private. “I wasn’t really thinking clearly. I think it said something like ‘Quatre’s in trouble, I’m going to LA. Call you later with details.’” Quatre groaned and lifted a hand so that he could rub at his temples. “She’s going to kill you.” “I took care of filling her in on the details,” Wufei assured him dryly. “Insomuch as I knew at the time, that is. She was NOT reassured.” “When does she arrive?” Iria inquired, getting a sadistic amount of glee in watching Trowa squirm. “Actually, within an hour or so.” “That gives us time to get a shower and changed for the day,” Quatre decided. Standing, he pulled Trowa up behind him. “Iria, did you bring my luggage as well?” “Rashid is going to fetch it now. He should be
here within a few minutes.”
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