"Breathless"

Written By: Waterliliylf

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All rights remain with Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. No profit being made here.

Rating: R

Warnings: sap, angst, fluff

Pairings: 3x4, 13x2

Summary: Quatre finds himself introduced to an annoying young man, one he can't seem to get out of his head.

"Breathless"

Chapter 3:

Quatre's watch showed that it was ten past six as he swung his car into the driveway of Romefeller House; he was late. He was always late; with the best intentions in the world, something invariably came up at the last minute. Still, ten minutes wasn't too bad; probably twelve by the time he reached the house and parked his car.

This dark, tree-lined driveway had given him nightmares as a small child, when his parents had brought him to visit. Treize, several years older and relishing every bit of that superiority of age, had gleefully fed him horror stories about the ghosts and phantoms who dwelled in the impenetrable rhododendron thickets.

Romefeller had been the perfect playground for two imaginative little boys; there was a family crypt, made even more attractive by the fact that it was officially out of bounds; the crumbling remains of a twelfth century watch- tower, ideal for war games; and a real underground passage from the kitchens to the ice-house.

On wet days, the house itself had offered endless entertainment. Unlike Quatre's own home, remodelled every couple of years by the most fashionable decorators, Romefeller probably hadn't changed in centuries, except that electricity and running water had been installed. The boys had played hide and seek behind ancient tapestries, slid down the sweeping staircase, and spent hours exploring the attics.

Back then, Quatre had never understood his mother's disdain when she spoke about his friend's wonderful home, thinking it would be glorious to live in a house where the only heating was provided by huge log fires in Winter, and the indoor plumbing hadn't changed in over a century. He entirely sympathised with the Khushrenadas' reluctance to install any modern conveniences.

The only changes since Treize had inherited had happened within the past couple of years, and only for Duo's sake. The master bathroom had been updated; a huge plasma television hung behind a tapestry in the drawing room, and the kitchen now boasted a microwave, and an espresso machine.

Quatre pulled his car to a halt beside Duo's in the drive, and on cue his friend opened the door and sauntered down the steps. He was accompanied by what looked like the role model for the Hound of the Baskervilles.

'Duo! That can't be the little puppy! It's huge!'

Duo laughed. 'Say that to your next boyfriend and he'll be a happy man. I did try to tell you she wasn't as little as all that, but you were convinced she was a tiny little thing. She's about eight months old, the lady in the shelter thought. She's going to get even bigger.'

Quatre gasped. 'Not really. God, you'll be able to train her to pull a carriage or something. Um, are you sure she's friendly? I don't think she likes me. Maybe she can sense that I'm more of a cat person.'

'She's just really shy, aren't you, girl?' Duo stroked the massive grey head. 'She was most likely abandoned and abused so she isn't great with strangers. Trowa said we're better off not fussing over her too much, that we should let her get comfortable with people at her own pace. She'll probably go to you in a little while to sniff you.'

'The poor little thing!' Quatre sighed, instantly forgetting that he'd been slightly nervous a few moments before. 'That's so awful. I can't understand how people can mistreat animals.'

'Yeah, I know.' Duo flopped down to his knees beside his new pet. 'Still, she's going to be totally spoilt from now on. Only the finest antique carpets to piddle on, and lovely hand-stitched shoes to nibble when she wants a snack.'

'Duo, she didn't!' Quatre started to laugh. 'Oh, no! Poor Treize! How upset was he?'

Duo's eyes twinkled. 'Put it like this; it's lucky for both me and her that she was a birthday present. Otherwise, we'd probably be sharing a kennel at the shelter by now.'

'Somehow I doubt that,' Quatre scoffed. 'Oh, your birthday! I almost forgot. Happy birthday!' He delved into his pocket handed Duo a small, exquisitely wrapped package.

'Quat! You didn't have to get me anything.'

'Of course I did! And it's not for you, really. Well, not just you. Go on! Open it.'

'I'll open it in the kitchen,' Duo decided maddeningly. 'Come on. Treize will want to say hi; he's cooking up a storm inside.'

The kitchen smelt unbearably delicious, reminding Quatre that he'd had nothing to eat since a light lunch. Treize glanced up from chopping herbs at the kitchen table. 'Hello, Quatre. Has Duo told you yet?'

'Haven't had a chance,' Duo chipped in. 'He's being even more hyper than usual. I think someone's been feeding him sugar again.'

'No, they haven't,' Quatre defended himself robustly. 'What have you got to tell me? Duo, aren't you going to open your present?'

'In a sec. I'll just make some tea first,' Duo said cheerfully, placing his gift on the table in front of Quatre, who huffed a little, just because Duo would expect it. The truth was, that he always happy to watch the two of them together. Treize dropped a kiss on Duo's head when his lover stepped around him to fill the kettle; and Duo rested his head briefly against the taller man's shoulder while waiting for it to boil. They just flowed together, even when performing the most mundane of household tasks.

One day, when he was ready to settle down, it would be nice to have a relationship like that.

'No, you're the most laid-back, patient person I've ever met,' Duo teased, placing two cups of tea on the table, and slowly loosening the ribbons on his gift. 'Oh, wow, Quat! That's just perfect.' He slowly withdrew a scarlet leather dog-collar with matching leash.

'Is it really all right?' Quatre demanded anxiously; he'd spent hours trying to choose just the right present. 'The girl in the shop said it should be the right size for an adult dog so it might be a little bit big for her now. Even though she's a lot bigger than I thought she'd be. If you don't like it, I have the receipt and they have lots of other styles. And colours. I just picked red because I know you both like it, but I won't mind at all if you want to change it? Do you like it?'

'Like it?' Duo grinned over at him. 'I love it. It's perfect. Hell, I'd be tempted to wear the collar as a choker myself, the leather's so soft.'

'Mmm.' Treize wound both arms around the younger man and kissed the back of his neck. 'Very fetching you'd look, too. Quatre, did the shop have this model in indigo, by any chance?'

'Treize!' Duo's face was suddenly stained with crimson. 'You're embarrassing Quatre!'

'No, he isn't,' Quatre said brightly. It was perfectly true; after more than two years, he was used to them.

'Thanks a bunch,' Duo muttered, rummaging in the layers of tissue paper and pulling out a handful of small crystal charms to hang from the collar; another rose, a shamrock, a miniature paintbrush and a padlock. Lastly, he held up an engraved silver disc, shaped like a rose. 'Hey, these are all so cool! Quat, seriously, you shouldn't have spent all that money. You've had our 'phone numbers and everything engraved on it. Look, Treize. He's got 'Laragh Maxwell-Khushrenada' written on the opposite side.'

'Singularly appropriate, in the circumstances,' Trieze observed. 'Isn't it, love?'

'What circumstances?' Quatre demanded, glancing between them.

'Do you want to tell him or shall I?'

'You tell him.' Duo crouched down beside Laragh. 'I'll need to cover Laragh's ears; you know what he's like when he gets excited. He'll probably go through the sound barrier and dogs are very sensitive to that sort of noise.'

'Very true,' Treize conceded, giving his lover an adoring smile. 'Quatre, since we now have a dependent, we thought we should make our situation official, and Duo has very graciously agreed to marry me.'

'No!' Quatre gasped, wavering over which of them to pounce on first and tripping over Laragh. 'That's so fabulous. When is the wedding? When did you propose? Do you have a ring yet, Duo? Have you named a date yet? Are you having an engagement party? Can I throw it for you? Why didn't you tell me before now? Are you going to register a present list? Where are you going to have your honeymoon?'

'Slow down, Quat. OK?' Duo laughed up at him. 'You're scaring the dog. It's going to be the second Saturday in June; we're probably having an engagement party but we haven't decided the details, it only happened the day before yesterday and we wanted to tell you in person. We're not sure about the present thing; we might just ask for donations to a charity or something.'

'I'm so happy for you both. Really,' Quatre burbled. 'You're the most perfect couple I've ever met in my whole life, and I just know that you'll have the most wonderful life together.'

'Don't get emotional, Winner,' Treize ordered briskly. 'Or we'll make you be our bridesmaid. In a very frilly pink gown. Now, you tell me something. Is it true you had dinner with Samuel Alston on Friday? Honestly, I thought you had more sense. You don't deserve to be let out alone, if you're choosing that sort of company.'

'Whoa,' Duo interrupted. 'What's wrong with this Alston guy? Have I met him?'

'Certainly not. I wouldn't let him within a hundred miles of you. The man is a total boor.' Treize transferred the frown to Quatre. 'What were you doing with someone like that?'

Quatre shrugged, feeling ten years old again and admitting to Treize that he'd done something incredibly stupid. 'I thought it was a business dinner. We're both on the entertaining committee of the Sanque Chamber of Commerce, and he wanted to discuss this year's business awards. I didn't know he had other intentions until he put his hand in a, well, an inappropriate place.'

'What did you do; stick a fork in him?' Duo wondered.

'Not exactly.' Quatre's eyes sparkled. 'Unfortunately, we do have to work together sometimes. I, quite accidentally, spilled my coffee in his lap. It was very hot. Poor man.'

'Nice one.' Duo grinned at him. 'You know, we should fix you up with someone decent. If nothing else, it's hardly good PR for the owner of a hook-up agency to be single. You're not exactly a good advertisement for your own business.'

'I do not run a hook-up agency! That makes me sound like a pimp! I'm a lifestyle coach.'

Duo laughed. 'Sure you are, and it's pure coincidence that some of your clients have hooked up.'

'Yes, it is actually, and for the record, I'm perfectly happy being single. I don't need a boyfriend to complete me.'

Duo nudged him in the ribs. 'No, you just need a boyfriend so you can get laid occasionally.'

Periwinkle-blue eyes met indigo, shining with limpid innocence. 'But, Duo, I don't need to be in a relationship for that. I can just pick someone up.'

Duo promptly choked on his tea; a nice little revenge for the 'hook-up agency' comment, Quatre thought.

'I think Quatre is trying to say that he's quite capable of ordering his own affairs,' Treize murmured, giving his partner's - no, his fiancé's - braid a little tweak as he walked past. 'Can you watch the sauce for a couple of minutes, love? Make sure it doesn't boil. I need to get some wine from the cellar.'

'I didn't know you were inviting other people,' Quatre commented, eyeing the piles of plates ready to be warmed in the oven.

'Just Trowa, and we did ask Zechs, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it. He was finishing up a commission today.' He gave the sauce a stir and flung a wicked grin at Quatre. 'Two nice single guys for you to choose from. How's that?'

'You are all consideration, Mr. Maxwell,' Quatre said affectedly, and then grinned. 'Please don't make me sit next to Zechs. We had dinner last week and he spent the whole time trying to get me to model for him.'

'So? He's an artist. You should be flattered.'

Quatre slid his head around the kitchen door, checking that Treize was still out of earshot. 'He wants to paint me naked!'

'And? He does a lot of nudes; it's not like he's never seen a guy naked before. It's no big deal, Quat.'

Quatre snorted rudely. 'Not much! He hasn't seen me naked. And if it's not a big deal, why don't you go and model for him?'

'Actually, I have.' Duo's voice was determinedly casual but there was a slight flush blooming on his cheekbones.

'No way! I've seen the picture he did of you last year, and you're fully dressed.'

'Oh, the one in the library. Yeah. He's done another one, that we've got upstairs, and I'm not remotely fully dressed in it.'

'Really? Goodness! Was it very embarrassing?'

'A bit, at first,' Duo admitted, dropping the worldly pose. 'It was OK though, once he got started properly. He pretty much ignored me, except to tell me to stop moving. That was the worst bit, actually, having to keep in one position. And it's not like it's a full frontal or anything. I've got my hair down and one of my knees is raised a little bit so you can't actually see that much. I'll show you sometime if you like.' He took the wooden spoon out of pot and gave it a quick lick. 'So you're not tempted by Zechs? How about Trowa?'

'I've never really met him properly, have I? And, to be honest, I'm not sure if he's my type. He always seems so serious about everything. I think I'd like someone a little less intense, someone to have fun with.'

'Yeah, maybe you do at that,' Duo acknowledged. 'You work too hard; you need someone who'll relax you. What were you doing today anyway? You don't normally work on Sundays.'

'Father's planning to hire some new research assistants. He asked me to come in for a couple of hours to help him sort through the applicants' details and come up with a shortlist to be interviewed.'

'How're you ever going to get a man if you spend all your time working?' Duo demanded. 'You don't even work for WEI anymore and you're always in and out of the office.'

'I quite like feeling that I'm still a part of it all,' Quatre explained. 'Even though I have left. Anyway, you know perfectly well I do have a man in my life.'

Duo groaned loudly. 'Not this again! Having a crush on some guy you've seen about a dozen times and never spoken to doesn't count. You don't know anything about him! He could be a serial killer or straight or anything.'

'I saw him the other day,' Quatre said dreamily. 'It was rather strange actually. I was so sure he worked somewhere near the National Gallery, because that's where he gets off the Metro, but I was going to see a new client in the New Edwards Plaza and he was coming out.'

'I take it we're talking about the mysterious Asian,' Treize commented, walking in with his arms full of wine bottles. 'I'm sure he's a sandwich delivery guy, and that's why you keep seeing him in different places.'

'That would be great; I'd get free sandwiches! I don't think he is though. He's always very nicely dressed and he carries a laptop bag.'

'Maybe he delivers very up-market, gourmet sandwiches,' Duo teased. 'Did you actually speak to him this time? You're not usually so shy about approaching people.'

Quatre made a face. 'I know! But he's always reading a book or a paper, or on his 'phone. It's so hard to start a conversation with someone when they're absorbed in something else.'

'Rather than being wholly absorbed in you?' Duo asked. 'Face it, Quat. That's probably the thing that most intrigues you about him; that he's a change from most of the guys you meet and who just fall at your feet.'

'It's nothing like that!' Quatre protested. 'People do not fall at my feet and you can't talk anyway!'

'Oh, he can always talk,' Treize smiled, settling his wine of the table and giving his partner a quick kiss on the mouth. 'Can't you, love? Duo, dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes; do you want to take Laragh out for a quick run first.'

'Sure. Quatre, d'you want to take a quick run to the beach? Treize, Trowa should be here in a few minutes; can you tell him where we've gone? He might want to come down and meet us?'

Trowa, in fact, arrived just as they were leaving the house.

'Hey, Tro. You guys remember each other, don't you?'

'Of course.' Quatre held out his hand politely to the tall man. 'How do you do?'

'I do OK.' The one visible green eye sparkled; he shook Quatre's hand, and then turned to take Duo's, turning it palm upwards.

'No ring yet, Max? I thought he'd have given you a rock the size of Gibraltar. A nice little symbol of ownership.'

'No ring yet.' Duo's tone was equable enough, but he was holding himself more stiffly than usual, and he snatched his hand back, thrusting it into his pocket.

Quatre glanced between them, not quite sure what the problem was. 'Well, you've only been engaged for a couple of days. You haven't told me yet, Duo; how did he propose? Was it really romantic? Or is it too personal to tell us?'

'Yeah,' Trowa drawled. 'That's a good question. How did he finally convince you?'

'Like Quatre said, it's personal,' Duo muttered. The hand not in his pocket had clenched on Laragh's new collar, the knuckles bone-white.

'Fine,' Trowa said abruptly. 'Oh, talking of Treize, he wanted me to ask you where the honey was. He needs it for some dessert he's making, and apparently you had it last.'

'Honey,' Duo echoed, and then blushed faintly. 'Oops. Yeah, I know where it is. Listen, I'll just run back to the house. You guys head on to the beach; I'll only be a few minutes.'

'He really does just have to click his fingers, doesn't he, Max?' Trowa asked softly. 'And you're jumping through hoops for him.'

'It's none of your damn business, Barton!' Duo snapped. 'But, just for the record, he's spent this whole afternoon cooking because I thought it would be fun to invite some people over. I think the least I can do is to help him with this one small thing, don't you?'

Quatre winced as Duo stalked off with the dog trailing behind him, tail drooping. He wasn't used to feeling off balance and he didn't like it. He knew that Trowa was Duo's oldest, closest friend but not that there had ever been more between them. He didn't know if Treize knew. Not sure what else to do, he headed down the steps. Trowa probably wanted to be alone for a few minutes; surprisingly, the other man fell into step beside him.

Neither of them spoke as they walked down on to the sand; once there, Trowa walked not toward the long stretch of sandy beach, but right to the cliffs.

'I'm not sure if it's safe to go that way. Not with the tide so far in.'

'Do you always do just do what's safe?' That one infuriating eyebrow lifted. 'That sounds a boring way to live. You stay there if you like, though.'

Without bothering to wait for a response, or to see if Quatre was following, he headed straight for the cliffs.

Oh, this was just ridiculous. He wasn't seven years old any more, accepting every dare that Treize flung at him. He was twenty five and a perfectly confident, assured adult. He certainly didn't care what Trowa thought about him. And his life wasn't boring!

If he wanted to climb a cliff, he'd damn well do it. He'd done it often enough when he was younger, but not like this, not with the waves surging quite so close beneath him. The water was coming in fast, one particularly high wave drenched his shoes and the hem of his jeans, cold enough to make him gasp and almost lose a handhold.

'Quatre! Here, hold on.'

Trowa, a few feet above him, and leaning down, held out one hand; in this mood, Quatre considered ignoring it, but that would just be stupid. Instead, he grasped those long fingers and let the other man help him.

'It's OK. The tide won't come up any further than this. '

'It does, sometimes, during big storms.'

'Not today.' Trowa was still holding his hand, in an absent sort of way, as if he'd forgotten about it. When he moved closer to the edge, Quatre went with him, instead of pulling free.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been here, although he and Treize had loved the place when they were younger, had loved the fact that they weren't supposed to be on the cliffs in the first place.

'It's amazing, isn't it?' He shouted over the sound of the waves, edging a little closer to peer straight down.

'Careful,' Trowa cautioned. 'These rocks are pretty wet from the spray.'

'It's not that slippery, really. You're so boring.' Quatre made it into a taunt, just to see how Trowa liked being called that, and promptly almost lost his footing.

'OK, I get it,' Trowa told him, dragging him upright, words whipped away by the wind. 'I shouldn't dare you to do something. You've made your point; now, come back from there.'

Quatre gave him a jerky nod. His legs were suddenly just a little wobbly; he was very glad of the other man's arm pulling him away from the edge.

'Sit down for a minute, all right?'

Quatre managed to sit down just before his legs gave out. 'I'm sorry. That was incredibly stupid of me.'

'I shouldn't have teased you to start with.' Trowa's face was very white, very strained; he'd been scared too. 'It's OK. We can walk back to the house from here; we don't have to go back that way again.'

'Duo won't know where we are, if he comes to the beach to look for us.'

'I wouldn't worry about that too much,' Trowa said tightly. 'I'm sure Treize is keeping him otherwise occupied.' His face, gazing out to the sea, was an expressionless mask. 'Duo tells me you have a dating agency. I suppose if you'd got those two together you'd consider it a major success on your part?'

'I would actually. But it's not true about the dating agency. I run a lifestyle coaching business.'

'Yeah? So, what do you coach?'

'Virtually anything people need, and that I feel qualified to provide. Sometimes, it's just acting as a personal shopper, or providing advice on time management or de-cluttering or anything like that. I've been a guide for tourists and I've helped quite a lot of foreign executives and diplomats with advice on Sanque culture and etiquette and setting up business here. I suppose it's an advisory service, really.'

'Basically you tell people how you think they should live their lives, is that it?'

'No!' That wasn't it at all. He loved sorting out the intricacies of other people's personal and professional lives, but all he did was offer advice and possible solutions. He certainly didn't tell his clients what to do; it was totally up to them whether they acted on his recommendations or not. 'I try to offer a range of suggestions, nothing more.'

Trowa grunted, picking up a stone and skimming it over the waves with an effortless flick of his wrist. Show off. 'Any advice for me, then?'

'It doesn't work like that,' Quatre temporised. 'I need to know people rather well, before offering any opinions. But sometimes it is necessary to accept some situations as being right and inevitable, even if they're not what one particularly wants.'

Was that vague enough? He obviously wasn't happy about the engagement, but that might mean he disliked Treize, or thought they didn't know each other well enough, or lots of other things. Not necessarily that he wanted Duo for himself.

Those unreadable green eyes gave him a long stare. 'You don't think first impressions count for anything?'

'Of course they do! But many of my clients are a little nervous the first time I meet them; I prefer to wait until they're a little more relaxed, and to know a little more about their lives, before I make any judgements.'

'I would imagine the initial degree of nervousness would in itself be some indication of a person's state of mind.'

He was, Quatre found, suddenly enjoying himself. The conversation was in itself a bit like standing so close to the waves; exhilarating and just a little scary. Refreshing. He thought that Trowa had probably started this conversation just to take his mind - both of their minds - off the near-accident. 'Are you nervous right now?'

'Talking to you?' Trowa looked amused. 'I'm not sure if nervous is the appropriate word.'

God, he was irritating. It was like having a conversation with an eel or some slippery thing that kept sliding away.

'If you're serious about engaging my professional services, I charge by the hour. And I don't generally work on Sundays.'

There, Mr. Barton. See what you make of that.

'Somehow, I doubt if I could afford you. One question, given the way you look, do your clients ever mistake the nature of the professional services you provide?'

Quatre just grinned; was he seriously supposed to be embarrassed by that question? Still, there was a compliment hidden in there, somewhere. And he could handle being flirted with. 'Certainly not. It's very clear that I provide a professional service only. Ah, not that sort of professional service.'

Trowa actually laughed; the sound surprisingly light-hearted. 'I definitely won't be engaging you then. I'll sort out my own life.'

Yes! That was probably about as blatant as it was going to get; Quatre had never believed in wasting opportunities. And he wanted to see this man again.

'Since you're not interested in any sort of business relationship with me, would you consider having dinner some night next week?'

Trowa swished that long forelock off his face; with both eyes visible, he looked totally different. Younger. 'You can't seriously be asking me on a date?' He sounded incredulous.

Quatre Winner almost never lost his temper. It was rarely necessary. He had an adoring, indulgent family, a group of wholly supportive friends. It was easier to get his own way by charming people, usually. None of that meant he didn't possess a temper, though, and he was quite capable of losing it on occasion.

'You're the one who started flirting with me! If you don't want to go out with me, that's fine, but you don't have to insult me in the process. I'm sorry, but I was under the impression that you were attracted. My mistake, but it's no reason to be insulting. I've never met anyone so rude and I personally think your hair is utterly ridiculous!'

So there!

'You're quite the spitfire when you're mad, do you know that? I sort of like that.'

Quatre jumped up, wrenching at his hand, not caring that it probably wasn't the best idea to start a struggle on such unsafe footing. 'Let. Me. Go. Now.'

'Quatre, don't be an idiot.' Instead of letting him go, Trowa pulled him closer. 'I didn't mean it like that. Of course, I'm attracted to you. I never thought you'd be remotely interested in me.'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Maybe because of who you are?' Trowa shrugged. 'Quatre Winner. One of the Winners. The family that probably owns half of this city. I'm not exactly in that league.'

'But I can't help my surname!' Quatre protested, totally at a loss. 'I don't care about anything like that; I don't even work for my family. You can't refuse to go out with me because of something so silly.'

'Is that an order?' He stood up slowly. He was far too tall, really, for Quatre's height. He'd get a crick in his neck looking up at him, and kissing would probably be awkward. 'Why do I get the impression that you're used to having people do exactly what you tell them? I'll tell you now, I'm not like that.'

'OK.' Quatre swallowed, lost suddenly in eyes greener than the crashing waves below.

Kissing wasn't awkward at all.

 

~ * ~

Chapter 4

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