"Best in Show"

Written By: Kaeru Shisho

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

Rating: R

Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language

Pairings: 3x4

Summary: Quatre is far from home, drained by work, and his dog handlers are dropping out. He's becoming an emotional mess. How will he survive the dog show?

"Best in Show "

Chapter Two

Trowa

__________________________

Outside the rain poured down in wind-driven sheets. "Sorry, Alfie," Trowa informed the dog on the other end of his lead, who continued to stare wistfully out the hotel window. "Looks like there'll be no visiting the little dog park now."

He hadn't yet seen the new addition to the hotel conveniences, which he'd seen listed prominently in the hotel brochure. Trowa was only slightly disheartened, though, and still took Alfie on a walk. The little terrier was a fireball of energy and if he didn't get an outlet to let off steam, he'd take it out on anything—animate, inanimate didn't matter, he'd misbehave. Trowa understood this character flaw, being unable to sit still long himself, and so they promenaded about the hotel and conference building. He chose a particular route, which, oddly enough, Alfie seemed excited about, sniffing the air and keeping perfectly in step.

"You are either reading my mind, or you have been this way before," Trowa told the dog, who snorted without missing a beat.

In addition to exercising the dog, Trowa was also hunting for the eminent Duo Maxwell to pick his brain and satisfy his curiosity about the man. He didn't expect the experienced trainer would teach him his job, but maybe he'd give him few pointers. Any advice would help. The next hallway ran in the 60's and room number 62 was assigned to Merquise/Maxwell. He and Alfie turned left, and had Alfie not warned him of their eminent danger with a sharp bark, Trowa would have led them both into a collision course.

"Whoa, doggie! Alfie, is that you?" the stranger asked.

"Yip!"

"Yip yourself. Hey, I'm Duo. You're either robbing Winner of his heart and soul or you are his new handler. We haven't met."

By "heart and soul" Trowa figured he was referring to Alfie. He wished Quatre was infatuated with him, but that, Trowa was sure, was not going to happen. "Robbing him of his cash, I'm sure he'd tell you. Yeah, as of an hour ago, I'm Alfie's Alpha." He held out his free hand. "Trowa Barton."

Trowa couldn't help but notice how nice the other man looked—Duo clearly dressed for attention. He wore dark gold slacks and a white shirt, the latter open one button deeper than necessary for comfort. These garments had a trick of caressing parts of his anatomy as he moved, which to Trowa was like receiving a series of small electrical jolts.

"Hey, Alfie!" Duo waved. He wore his long hair in a braid down his back that swayed when he moved. More spine-tingles. "Coming for a visit?"

"He's under instructions to shut his yap," Trowa told him.

"Man, I could use some of your magic." Duo shook his head and put up a hand signaling he didn't expect any lessons. "Anyway, Quat didn't say he was changing handlers."

"Cat?"

"Yeah, oh, ah… Quatre."

"Oh, you mean Quatre Rabera Winner," Trowa said, mimicking Quatre's polished accent and tone of voice perfectly.

Duo started laughing, supported with a hand on Trowa's shoulder. Ripples of laughter continued on.

Alfie whined and tugged on his leash.

"What's the matter now? Alfie-" Trowa grumbled then broke off.

He was momentarily distracted when a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out of room 62. Duo was here, standing close enough to feel his warmth, which meant the new arrival had to be Merquise, the other person sharing the room. My God! The man was stunning- and not terribly happy.

Trowa guessed Duo meant nothing with his flirting; he was just a physical guy. Assuming that was the case and that the two were a couple, Trowa ducked out of the embrace and put a little distance between Duo and himself . With a main squeeze like Zechs Merquise, there was no way Duo could have any interest in a background character like himself. No way. Really no way. In the next instant Duo was wrapped around the tall, powerfully built blond.

Who actually twisted away from him! "Careful, Duo!" Merquise warned in a deep growl

Alfie growled too, but why, Trowa didn't understand.

"Is that Milli you got in there? Yes, it is! Hi, Snuffleface!" Duo chortled.

Allowing that "Snuffleface" was an unlikely pet name for Duo's elegant boyfriend-boss, Trowa focused his attention on the movement in the man's arms. A tiny, quivering, black nose poked out from behind an impressive fall of platinum hair, both the dog's and Merquise's. How much time and expense did Merquise sink into managing his hair, he wondered? Did he choose the dog to match his hair? Share groomers?

After a struggle to part the curtain, a pair of coal black eyes came into view. Nose, eyes- next would be the bark, Trowa surmised. He made eye contact and held up a finger.

Snuffleface appeared mesmerized, set her jaw, and kept silent. Alfie did the same but with his attention glued on the other dog.

None of this was lost on Merquise, who commented, "I see we are in the company of the Dog Talker, Mr. Barton, correct?"

"Trowa Barton." He extended a hand then pulled back. Merquise had one arm around Duo and the other cradling Snuffleface. Hands full. Or maybe he was just a supercilious ass.

"Does Mr. Winner know where his dog is?" Merquise looked at Duo.

Trowa thought of a few well-turned phrases to put the man in his place, but Duo cut in first. "Zechs! Of course he does! Tro's his new handler!"

Trowa wondered what unpleasant thing the man might say next and lined up a couple snappy rebuttals. Which he didn't get to use.

"Another? Well. Strange—" Merquise appeared to consider Winner's unusual change so late in the competition. "But that explanation will have to wait for another time." Now, fully fixated on the braided man in his clutches, Trowa the dog talker forgotten, Merquise went on, "Duo, I'm taking Millefleur for her play-date with Ghita Fiorella."

Pretty name, Trowa thought, imagining a svelte Italian model, who might think a Maltese toy dog was a suitable playmate. He'd also decided his first impression had been correct. "Supercilious ass" described Merquise just fine.

Duo made a face. "You're meeting Lucy."

"Yes, Miss Noin comes with her dog," Merquise said. This was accompanied by a smug smile. "You know how important it is for the sisters to see each other." He hugged Duo closer and Trowa could barely hear the rest of his comment. "You know she means nothing to me."

Duo and Merquise parted with a quick kiss. Duo turned to Trowa, smiling, although Trowa felt it looked strained.

"Well, that frees me up for the rest of the afternoon. Wanna gossip about Quat?" Duo's question was punctuated by crossed eyes and a silly grin, so Trowa understood it was a joke.

"Actually, I'm more interested in his dog. So far." Trowa smiled back. "This job for Winner came at the last minute. I've never really been a handler in a show. I'd love to pick your brain for some tips … anything you've got. Both Quatre and his… secretary, Rashid, spoke highly of your skills."

"Did they? Man, that's a tall order, but, sure, heck, I'll show you the ropes. C'mon."

And then Trowa stepped back and fell in line, listening to Duo's patter as he led him back downstairs.

"I gotta say I admire your hutzpah, being his handler like that. No preparation and all. I hope he's paying you in gold. He can afford it, heh heh. Okay. Here we go. First, let's watch what's going on today." He pulled a brochure out of his back pocket and unfolded it. "We got fifteen minutes until the German Shepherds compete."

"Can Alfie be in the stands?" Trowa wondered.

"It's uncommon, but I see no rules against it if he's quiet."

While they waited for the events to begin in the main ring, Duo described what stage of the competition they were in. "Alfie has already made it to best Irish Terrier. You'll be showing him against the other medium to small terriers."

Trowa shook his head. "I can't get over how complicated it is to just show off a dog at one of these events."

"It's why we got jobs, bro'. Heh, heh… Okay, it's about to start. See how they march out and circle? Alfie's got to look chill but not dominate you, like that young shepherd's doing. Ouch! He got tangled with his handler's feet."

Duo quietly pointed out what was going on, what the judge was looking for, what to expect he'd be asked to do. "Now see how this next handler uses hand gestures to keep her dog's eyes on her and not the audience? Hear how the crowd likes that dog? It's all in the nice carriage."

Trowa didn't need any tips for showing off Alfie's scrappy, intense personality; he had a magic touch with animals. "I think I've seen enough. Alfie's getting restless and needs a little workout."

They found a large, empty conference room, and for the next hour Duo put Trowa and Alfie through their paces, until they both seemed comfortable working together and Trowa less anxious about what he should do.

"I sure wish I knew how you get Alfie to be so obedient so fast. Yeah, yeah…it's the secret to your success, I've heard your set piece, but you make it look like hocus-pocus, and I don't believe in that mystic-mojo shit."

Trowa smiled and pulled a coin from Duos ear, a trick he'd learned as a child. "I can't make you believe."

Duo laughed, pressure released, which was all Trowa wanted to happen anyway.

"You'll be fine," Duo assured him.

"Yeah, maybe, but you'll be the seasoned veteran I'll be up against."

"Heh, heh, yeah." Duo chuckled. "Look there's sunshine out there!"

Quatre was Trowa's first thought. "I've wanted to go outside," Trowa said.

"Me, too. It's been wet all week. C'mon," Duo called out as he skipped ahead, texting a message, careless of traffic as he crossed the street.

Trowa and Alfie trailed after him then turned into the "doggy park." Vermin-hunter that he was, Alfie found a mud hole to dig, possibly containing a mole. Unwilling to delegate digging duty to any other dogs, he growled and clawed at the soil with badger-determination. Before he could defend his territory with tooth and nail, Trowa dragged him away. Alfie must have known not to push his luck with Trowa, because he departed the park, perky as ever and well-behaved, only barking one time at a passing wolfhound.

When Trowa returned to the hotel door, he wondered what he'd do about the muddy feet. He spotted Duo- with no difficulty- standing on a patch of grass under some trees. It was a small garden next to the hotel he hadn't noticed before, a part of the hotel. Trowa waved when he saw Duo putting away his phone.

Duo waved back and trotted over to join him. Nice. Duo was average-sized, a personable, easygoing guy with long, brown hair, and engaging grin, and a teasing, flirty manner. Trowa liked him a lot and wished he was free- or that Quatre was more like him.

"Wowzer! What kind of trouble did you two get up to in ten minutes?" Duo asked.

"Yeah, I need to get Alfie cleaned up." Trowa hadn't thought about that problem before.

"Does he have a groomer?"

"I don't know." Now Trowa worried about what he should do.

"Quat might do it all himself—Zechs likes that task."

"You don't think I'm expected to do it?" Trowa wondered aloud, with no enthusiasm at all to pamper Alfie. "I could call him and ask, I guess—" Alas, his pocket was empty. He patted his other side, twice, before concluding that he had abandoned his cell phone someplace.

"No, don't call him!" Duo cautioned. "He might go into shock. I'll bet he's never seen his baby with mud dreads, heh heh."

"God no… what should I do?" Trowa seriously considered carrying the dog to his hotel room and trying to bathe him there—and look for his missing phone.

"Come this way," Duo said sounding cool and collected. "There's a grooming station here in the hotel and you can pay someone to bathe and dry him. Nails too."

"Sounds fine to me," Trowa said, giving up on his phone for the time being. "Nails. Hell, I hadn't thought of that when he was digging like a maniac."

"Let's hope he didn't break a nail!" Duo said. He sounded serious enough that Trowa nearly dropped the dog. "Just kidding! No worries, Tro'. Leave it to me."

Trowa discovered that he could put everything on Quatre's tab, once Duo assured him he probably wouldn't even notice a few extra expenses as long as Alfie looked spiffy. He couldn't call him and verify it, so he went along with Duo's recommendations. It was either good advice or bad advice; he'd find out later.

They stood and watched the cleaning. Trowa wouldn't dare leave anyone alone with Alfie- he might bite a finger. Alfie, however, appeared calm, taking the attention in stride, or as his just dues—spoiled pooch.

"You're coming to the dinner party tonight, I hope," Duo said and dropped a casual arm around Trowa's shoulders. "Looks like we're going to have a great turnout. Khushrenada's going all out with the food and whatnot."

"I don't know," Trowa answered, "this is the first I've heard of it."

"Where are Winner's manners?" Without waiting for Trowa's answer, Duo said, "Well, consider yourself asked."

"Okay—" Trowa was not convinced or excited to go, perhaps butting into some elite club event.

"Really, it's all right. I can invite guests and us handlers are all showing up."

Trowa felt the other man was analyzing him for some deep reason, or possibly he was just waiting for him to explain himself. "Yeah, well…yeah." He tried on the "whiskey drinker" squint, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin.

"Quat must have done a number on you. I mean, he's a nice guy; a little stressed out … he works too hard and needs more fun in his life."

When Trowa slid his eyes over, Duo was staring at him.

"I was thinking you might fill the bill, if you're game?" Duo said.

"Me? When did you come up with that?" Trowa knew he and Duo had never met before. "You don't know me."

"Weeeee-eeel, true." Duo conceded. "I had seen your…demo… in the auditorium the opening day. I said to Zechs, 'Now there's a dude who really loves what he does and has fun doing it.' Quat could learn a thing or two from you, I thought. Then I checked your bio and saw you weren't married and you moved a lot—"

"—Not by choice. That comes with circus life," Trowa interrupted. "So you saw my act and thought I'd be good for Quatre Winner? What did you do next? Break his handler's leg?"

"Nah," Duo said with a crooked smile. "But I gotta admire the idea. No, that's pretty devious match-making, even for me."

Trowa laughed at that. "Doesn't matter. He's attractive, I'll admit that, but we got nothing in common, Duo. He looked at me like I was some mix of an axe murderer and a sanitation man. And, no, I didn't get that wrong." Trowa popped a handful of raw almonds in his mouth and stepped closer to where the dog was getting toweled off. "I can read 'Eew!' pretty well."

A look of horror replaced the one of amusement Duo had been wearing. Was it something he'd said, Trowa wondered? He ran through his words again and came up blank.

"Did you just eat dog treats?!" Duo cried out.

Alfie whined and turned his expectant gaze onto Trowa, as if to say, "Treats! You holding out on me?"

"No. You," Trowa directed to the dog, "got plenty of treats a minute ago." To Duo he said, "Those are in the other pocket. Almonds for me. Want some?"

Duo accepted his treat with a smile, and to be fair Trowa tossed Alfie a dog-treat Fair? He must be getting soft. "Everybody happy now?"

Alfie closed his eyes as the warm air from a hair drier caressed his back. He looked supremely content. Even as a nail technician stepped in to polish his nails. Trowa and Duo gave the groomers some space again.

"Trowa, you musta gotten off on the wrong foot with Quat. He's not like that, really."

"How would you know?" Trowa paused. He had almost been yelling, so he centered himself and lowered his volume. "You and Merquise and Winner… you all live like royalty."

"Tone it down, will ya? Over here it's more private."

They were the only ones in groomer's waiting room, but Trowa didn't point it out. From his expression, it didn't look like Duo was at all pleased. His braid whipped over his shoulder as he bought a cup of coffee from a vending machine. He carried it to a wobbly table and plunked down into the seat. Cautiously, Trowa dragged a chair from a nearby table and balanced on the edge, ready to take off, if he wasn't welcome.

"First of all," Duo tapped the table top to watch his coffee slosh about. "Relax. I ain't gonna bite. Second, I ain't rich, and third, Winner's not the elitist snob you make him out to be."

Duo had not denied that Zechs was among the snootiest of the upper crust. Trowa did not call attention to Duo's omission. He knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"For your information," Duo went on, needing no encouragement from Trowa, "Zechs and I met in the active service. I was a mechanic in the military and he was an officer. He needed a driver, so I got tapped for that. We got along great. Now, we are both retired and I am working exclusively for Zechs and his fleet of vintage cars."

"Nice." Trowa said.

"Yeah it is. My first home, family, and security all in one."

"Family?"

"Zechs is all I got. War killed my adoptive family and friends…" Duo drew a shuddering breath.

"Sorry to hear that. What about the handler job? How'd you get into that?"

"That's too long a story for now, but let's just say he got a pedigreed dog and I was a natural."

Trowa nodded. "Who trained you?"

Duo smiled. "His friend, an ex-first lieutenant in the military, Lucrezia Noin. Lucy. She started showing dogs first, and then when she and Zechs got puppies from the same litter, the thought was that they both should drag them through the show circuit. Zechs was sure he would over-shadow his tiny fluff ball, which is probably true, and so I got asked to do it. It's fun. Relaxing, actually. I don't mind showing off my stuff, and Snuffleface, heh heh…"

Trowa took this all in for a second and mulled about the names. "That's the Lucy he's with now? And the dogs are sisters?" Mill-something and Ghita-something. Pieces were falling together. Trowa liked things that made sense, whether he really cared about them or not.

"Bingo, baby!" Duo finished the dregs of his coffee and checked his cell. "Millefleur means lots of flowers and Ghita Fiorella means little flower. Real mollycoddled pets, I'll tell you. Hold on-"

"So, one more thing," Trowa said when Duo looked up from his cell. He liked the facts laid out plain and clear. "How long have you known Winner, then, since you are vouching for his egalitarian qualities."

"His what?"

"You said he wasn't a snob."

"Oh that. Um, not long. I just met him the first day here, when we all checked in. And.. later… some meals.. walks… whatnot… He's kinda new to this place. Sanc." Duo took a moment to read a message. "But he was a sweet kid. Hey, I hate to cut this off, but-"

"-Zechs is back," Trowa guessed. He moved to check his own cell then stopped himself, remembering at the last second that he'd left it behind, God only hoped, in his hotel room.

"Yep! Looks like Alfie's about done, too. Gotta go, bud."

"Right. Well, sorry about, um —"

"Calling me one of the high and mighty, stuck-up, elitist types? Heh, heh… be careful with that. There's a lot of them at this and they take pride in themselves. Speaking of… the party starts at eight in the Romefeller room—don't forget!"

Trowa already had, until Duo reminded him. He walked Duo to the elevator. "What do I wear?" Hoping it would be fancy dress and having nothing suitable, he could say 'no' to that.

"Casual nice." Duo smiled as if he guessed Trowa had nothing better to pick from, gave him a jaunty salute, and the doors closed.

Damn.

Maxwell was a really nice guy. He'd done him a huge favor, teaching him about his job, extending his friendship to draw him into the show's fold. He owed it to him to at least be polite and attend the dinner. Maybe Quatre would be over the shock of losing his previous handlers and live up to his dazzling good looks?

Alfie, apparently, loved being fussed-over by the groomers. He looked good, all mud-free, clean and dry, and his toenails… were they a little shiny? Really? Buffed toenails? Trowa stared and Alfie stared back, smug as punch.

"Here you go, Mr. Barton. Alfie- you're such a good dog, yes—all spic and span again!" said the groomer with a wide grin.

"Thanks." Trowa flipped Alfie a treat and clipped on his leash. "You even smell daisy fresh. I can't believe you don't like smelling like yourself."

The groomer laughed a little trilling sound. "Oh, don't worry. These show dogs are used to daily baths. The products we use are all natural and the scents wear off in a few minutes. Bye love!"

Trowa smiled faintly, wondering which one of them she was calling "love".

"Probably you," he told Alfie.

TBC…

Chapter 3

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