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"Take a Chance"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: No, they are not mine. And I’m
not stealing them. I’m just permanently borrowing them for an
undefined stretch of time. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: lemon, AU, Romance, 3x4, slight angst (which I fix!) Pairings: 3x4x3 Summary: Quatre literally runs into the man of
his dreams but life isn't all plain sailing. Author’s Notes: Hiya, my fellow otaku! Our
favorite blonde showed up earlier last week and started stalking me
until I wrote all of this. It’s the entire thing, but of course
I have to cut it up to email it to you all. Enjoy! //phone conversations//
"Take a Chance " Chapter One: Can’t I keep him? Small opportunities are often the beginning of great
enterprises.
Ouch! I hit the ground hard, landing on my back, one hand going instinctively to the shoulder that I had impacted with. Rats. This is what I get for running around in the middle of Windfair. The place was crawling with people. I looked up to see what or who I had run into— --Allah’s mercy, is there any way that I can take him home with me? The guy I had just tried to run over was nearly six feet tall, startling green eyes and dark auburn hair that fell over one side of his face. He was incredibly gorgeous as well. I smiled at him brightly, trying my best to look apologetic. Really, all I wanted to do was jump him. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying any attention at all to where I was going—” He offered me a hand up, which I took. I knew by just the grip of his hand that this guy was no pansy. He worked out or something. “Thanks. And I am sorry about this. Did I manage to cripple you or—” “I’m fine.” Okay, that cinched it. I was definitely going to find a way to get this guy. His voice was just as sexy as the rest of him, a smooth baritone that just glided over your ears. There had to be a way to keep his interest and get him to open up to me a little. “Ah, I don’t suppose you’ve seen a platinum-blonde eight year old girl running around loose have you?” One of his eyebrows arched up ever so slightly. “No, I haven’t.” “Darn.” The slightest lift of his mouth made my throat close up. I have the feeling that this guy does not often show his emotions. Made me wonder what it would take to loosen that kind of control… “You are looking for her, I take it?” “Yup. It wasn’t supposed to be my job to watch anyone today, but Iria got distracted by some hot guy near the food stands and now I have to track down Felicia…” I ran a hand through my hair in distraction and looked around with a little irritation. I have twelve sisters, eight of them younger than me, and there are times when I would cheerfully drown all twelve of them. Today was supposed to be a day off for me! “What is she wearing?” My head snapped back around when I realized that he was offering to help. Wow, what a guy! “A blue dress. And unless she’s taken it off, she has an Indian chieftain headdress on.” His slight smile grew a bit at that description. My insides went gooey and I had to physically stop myself from drooling. “Where have you looked?” “Um, just near the food stands so far.” Thank you, mouth, for responding intelligently. I truly appreciate that. “Hn.” His head turned as he searched the area we were in. Mostly arts and crafts here. He was holding a bag that was filled with fabric and other odds and ends. Either he did projects, or he was picking stuff up for someone, or he was holding the bag for his girlfriend. I was really hoping it was the second option. I’m not sure if my libido could handle it if this guy turned out to be straight. With a tilt of his head, he indicated the northern side of the fair. “The playground is up there. Would she be interested in that?” “Maybe.” You could never predict Felicia. Sometimes she did things differently just to spite anyone’s efforts in understanding her. “Let’s go check.” Trowa fell into step beside me, eyes peeled. So was I of course, but I was much more focused on the person beside me. Alright, I had him walking with me. Good. Now what? How did I get his phone number? Well, actually, it might help if I knew his name first… “Sorry, I didn’t think to introduce myself. I’m Quatre Winner.” His head tilted slightly towards me. “Trowa Barton.” Finally! Someone who had a name as weird as mine. I grinned at him. “Nice to meet you, Trowa.” He gave me that slight smile of his in return. Trowa does not strike me as a person who opens up easily. I was going to have to be very careful in how I approached him. Too fast, and I would screw everything up. And in order to avoid that, I needed to know a lot more about him. Nice conundrum, that. “So, what inspired you to come to Windfair today?” “Errands.” He answered quietly. “My mother is out of town, and she asked if I would pick up a few things for her.” In the back of my head, angels broke out in a halleluiah chorus. So that wasn’t for his girlfriend! Ha! “You must be a local, if your Mom knows this place so well.” There were a lot of people that came in from neighboring towns and cities to just visit for the day. Things would be a great deal more difficult for me if he lived a distance away. “Yes.” Me, I went to a private school. Although that would only last for another year, and by then I would finish the fast-track approach and be done with high school early. And I hadn’t seen him there, so he must go to the public high school. “Which school do you go to?” “Tullahoma High.” I nailed that one. “And you,” he continued without missing a beat “go to Garces.” I stumbled to a halt and gaped at him. How in the name of Allah did he know that I went to a Catholic Private school? “Do I have sign on my back or something?” There was this little mischievous glint in Trowa’s eyes. “You’re a rich kid. And rich kids go to Garces.” I looked down at myself. I had chosen to go casual today, wearing only a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans with sandals. I certainly didn’t look the part of a rich kid. “How could you tell?” “It’s not what you wear.” He explained calmly. “Its how you walk, how you carry yourself. You, Quatre Winner, are not a person accustomed to the word ‘no’.” And Trowa Barton was not only mouth-wateringly yummy, but was as sharp as a tack. Brains as well as beauty, what a delicious combination…A slow smile spread over my face. “I’m beginning to like you, Trowa. You’re no lightweight.” My cell phone chose to ring at that moment. I dug it out of my pocket and flipped it open. “Yes?” //Quatre, we found her.// “Ah.” Curse it, I hadn’t even gotten Trowa’s phone number yet! “Good.” //Mom wants to head home now. Meet us at the car in fifteen minutes, alright?// “Roger that.” My voice was cheerful enough, masking my sexual frustration quite well I thought. Inside my head, I was building up a strategy that would ensure success within a fifteen minute time frame. I closed the phone and turned back to Trowa. “That was my sister. They found her.” “Good.” No, not good, I haven’t gotten your phone number yet! “Unfortunately, now that she’s found, I have to leave. But before I go…there’s a new tradition being introduced this year at Windfair.” Trowa did that slight eyebrow arch thing again. God, that was sexy! “It’s called,” I intoned grandly “ ‘The Great Phone-number Exchange’. Would you care to join in?” My mad enthusiasm was infectious. For the first time that day I got a real smile out of Trowa. “Do you have anything to write on?” That stumped me for a second. The only things that my pockets were holding were a wallet and a cellphone. Uh…ah crap, there had to be a way around this—“Do you have a cellphone?” “Yes.” “Ha! Okay, let’s switch phones for a second.” Trowa handed his phone over without hesitation, accepting mine in return. I was delighted to see that he immediately flipped it open and started inputting his number into the phone’s memory. I love dealing with quick people. I inputted my number quickly and handed it back. Trowa accepted the phone, eyeing me speculatively. “What are you doing tomorrow night?” My mind was a blank. Whatever plans that I might have couldn’t be too terribly important, anyway. “I can’t think of anything.” Although I had the feeling that as soon as I walked away, I would remember something that I had planned. *ring* I cursed in Arabic and answered. “Yes?” //Quatre, where are you?// I swear that Iria has the worst timing. “On my way to the car.” I lied glibly. //Move faster.// Click. I scowled at the phone. The phone bore it stoically, used to this treatment. “Do you have sisters, Trowa?” “No.” “You are a blessed and fortunate man.” My tone was serious, smile rueful. “I’ll call you later, all right?” He nodded amiably. I gave him a casual salute instead of performing the tonsillectomy that I wanted to do, spun around and started to walk—casually—toward the parking lot. When I saw Felicia, I was going to give that girl a huge hug. ~~~~~
Chapter 2 |
