"A Very Gundam Thanksgiving"

Written By: The Plotting Housewife

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Holidays, Thanksgiving, Fluff, Humor, Crack

Pairings: Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Duo Maxwell/Hilde Schbeiker, Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei/Sally Po, Zechs Merquise/Lucrezia Noin, Catherine Bloom/Original Male Character

Summary: The former pilots and their loved ones come together to celebrate Thanksgiving at Trowa and Quatre's Massachusetts home. Chaotic it may be, but there's never a dull moment when the gang's all here.

"A Very Gundam Thanksgiving "

Chapter 3: Dressings and Amends

With the pies baking in the oven and Duo getting ready for his wife's arrival, Quatre pulled on his parka and ventured out to the shed to see how Trowa and Heero were fairing. It was still cold, but the sun was thawing the frost rather quickly and he winced as his boots sunk into the wet mud beneath his feet.

He found them both standing at the small dressing table that stood against the far wall of the shed with the dead birds laid out on top of it. Trowa was in the process of teaching Heero how to field dress them and prepare them for Quatre's roasting pans. Heero listened with rapt attention, his fingers twitching in eagerness to get started. Quatre stood in the doorway for several minutes watching them, his heart swelling with love and affection. Once again, he sent up a silent prayer, this time for his beloved husband and best friends in the hopes that things could always be this way, finally at peace and getting a second chance at the life they deserved. He blinked his tears away before he lost control, berating himself for being so emotional.

Sensing his presence, Trowa turned away from his riveted protege to raise a questioning eyebrow at his husband, the concern in his eyes as clear as the crystal blue sky.

Is everything okay?

He smiled with a reassuring nod and Trowa returned the gesture, shifting his body sideways so that Quatre could see what they'd brought home. There was a turkey, a pretty sizable one, but the other bird was definitely a pheasant. Quatre choked on a squeal in his excitement. Pheasant was his favorite and it was such a rare treat, elusive birds they were. The corners of Trowa's mouth curled up as he observed his husband's predictable reaction and Quatre wanted nothing more than to launch himself at him, cling like a baby monkey, and kiss the smug right off his face.

Trowa's beauty was even more pronounced after a successful hunt. He always returned with flushed skin, red lips, and windblown hair, looking like a buff Davy Crockett sans the stupid raccoon hat. His eyes were glassy and his pupils dilated from the exhilaration of the chase. Quatre licked his lips and turned to adjust himself, blushing from arousal and embarrassment in the face of company.

"Am I interrupting something?" Heero deadpanned from the other side of the table.

The two guilty parties jumped at the interruption and blushed twin shades of pink. Quatre focused his attention on the partially plucked carcasses on the table, the gruesome display successfully draining the blood from his nether regions, and cleared his throat. "How did it go?"

"It went." Heero turned back to the birds and idly picked up a dark feather, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger. "I assume Duo has been bragging since he walked in the door?"

"Of course."

"Did he tell you what else happened?"

"Yes."

"Is Wufei alright?"

"Yes. Humiliated, but otherwise fine."

"So what's Duo doing? Not taunting him, I hope."

"No. He feels really bad about what happened. He's in the shower right now. So is Wufei. Duo's supposed to help me in the kitchen when he's done. I don't know what Wufei's plans are."

Heero stopped his studious plucking and turned back to Quatre, his expression adorably clueless. "Shower?"

Quatre nodded slowly, not sure what the confusion was about. "Yes...?"

Heero stared into middle distance for a moment, deep in thought. "That's...not on the itinerary for another three hours," he informed them and then he went back to plucking the birds without another word.

Quatre gaped at him and then glanced at his husband for a little assistance. Trowa shrugged helplessly, at a loss himself. He did offer Quatre a lopsided smile that seemed to say, It's Heero, as if that explained everything.

Right.

"Right. Okay, well...I'll leave you two to finish up here." He crossed the room in a few quick strides, grabbed his husband's face in both hands, and pulled him down to kiss his wind-chilled lips, shivering a little at the shock of cold. When he pulled away, Trowa seemed reluctant to let him go, watching him with an almost desperate hunger. He winked one bright eye, spun on his heel, and sashayed out of the shed, high on vindication.

Payback was a bitch.

***

They all took a brief respite in the great room at the anterior end of the house. The room was exceptionally large with a two story ceiling. Skylights and long beams made of cedar accented the sloping ceiling and arched floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back of the room and overlooked a multi-level stone patio. Just beyond the property's yard was the coniferous edge of one of several woodlands in the area. Bird, butterfly, and squirrel feeders dotted the landscape as well as tasteful yard ornaments made of stainless steel, wrought iron, and glass, each one sculpted by none other than Quatre's loving hands.

At the edge of the forest, a salt lick stood on a wooden post, the block of salt covered in deep grooves, indicating that several deer had already come for a visit. There was a large vegetable garden off to the right, surrounded by chicken wire to keep the local wildlife out. In the fall, Trowa and Quatre would harvest corn, lettuce, spinach, kale, peas, beans, carrots, tomatoes, onions, turnips, eggplant, squash, pumpkins, and various kinds of herbs.

A row of apple trees outlined the far southern edge of the yard, their leaves and some stray apples blanketing the ground beneath them. There was a small retention pond at the very back of the clearing and wrapped around from the property's northern side. In the winter, Trowa, Quatre, and their visitors would spend hours skating on the pond's frozen surface before heading inside to warm up with a cozy fire and hot cocoa with a splash of spirits for extra measure. In the summer, it was a frequent meeting place for ducks, geese, swans, and other native birds that would stop by for a quick swim and a hearty meal of carp and catfish.

In the home's great room, a wall-sized video screen was showing the 293rd annual Macy's/Catalonia Thanksgiving Day Parade. Brightly colored floats decked out in cheerful holiday themes traveled down Sixth Avenue, flanked on either side by delighted New Yorkers and tourists alike. Parade participants strolled alongside the floats in outrageous costumes, waving to enchanted children perched on their parents' shoulders. In the background, excitable network anchors announced each theme and provided the viewers with a brief backstory of their origins, interspersed with the sound of high school marching bands, blaring age old Christmas tunes from their trumpets, clarinets, flutes, and drums.

Trowa was lounging in an oversized leather chair with his husband tucked contentedly against his chest. Quatre was hypnotized by the parade, his glittering blue eyes fixed on the screen, unblinking. Heero occupied the opposite chair, a book in hand, sipping coffee from a red mug decorated with little white snowflakes. Like Quatre, Duo was also mesmerized by the parade. He was sprawled out on his stomach at one end of the giant sectional sofa, his chin propped on one of the couch's arms and his socked feet swaying back and forth in the air. Wufei was sitting in a nearby rocker, eyes closed. He was either sleeping, or meditating, none of them could ever tell which.

Half an hour earlier, Quatre had walked past one of the windows and stopped short when he noticed a plume of smoke rising into the sky. Standing on either side of the limestone fire pit that was located near the edge of the patio were Duo and Wufei, staring at each other intently through the haze of burning maple wood.

Duo had been holding what appeared to be a can of butane lighter fluid and a box of fireplace matches in one hand and a bundle of fabric clutched in the other. Upon closer inspection, Quatre could see the red, yellow, and green plaid flannel that Wufei had worn to hunt that morning, and what looked like his denim jeans as well. His mouth quirked up as Duo then handed the garments to Wufei, his expression solemn as if offering his first born child to a vengeful God. Wufei watched him suspiciously, not sure if he was being played.

It took some gentle cajoling on Duo's part to convince him to take the offered bundle and with a final cautious glance at the sheepishly smiling man, Wufei dropped the mud-caked clothing into the fire. Duo handed the lighter fluid over and watched as Wufei squirted it onto the fire, leaning back slightly as the fire roared violently for a brief moment and then settled back down again. They both stood in quiet solidarity, looking like mourners at a burial as the flames wrapped their burning tendrils around the jeans and flannel.

Duo graced Wufei with a cheeky grin and a thumbs up and turned to head back into the house, respectfully giving the other man a moment to himself. Wufei stared at his retreating back, his expression one of confused amusement before he returned his attention to the fire to witness the last of the cursed garments being reduced to ash.

And Quatre couldn't be completely sure, but he thought he saw Wufei subtly flick his wrist at the fire, his middle finger ghosting up so quickly that Quatre thought it might have been his imagination, before it curled itself back into his palm.

~ * ~

Chapter 4

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