"Three for Joy"

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: Romance, angst, sap, friendship

Pairings: 5x4 and (possible) 1x2. Copious references to past 3x4.

Summary: As far as Wufei is concerned, he and Quatre are a perfect example oftwo's company, so when Trowa moves back to Sanq will three be a crowd, or justpossibly, a joy to embrace?

Author's Note: Writing this story truly has been a joint effort. The original idea came from Standingontherooftops (as compensation for having broken her brain in a previous story) and she also suggested the personalities and pairings and gave huge amounts of positive feedback as it progressed. Kaeru Shisho gave me most of the plot, as well as many, many suggestions, edited many, many times, and then persuaded me it wasn't long enough so the whole process had to start again. All of this wonderful support meant that I was free to get on with the really fun business of actually writing and had massive amounts of fun.

Dedication: This story is affectionately dedicated to both the ladies mentioned above, without whom it would have been finished in half the time.

"Three for Joy"

Chapter 5:

'Duo's always so easy to find, isn't he?' Quatre asked brightly as he pulled into the car park by the Botanic Gardens. He'd been resolutely bright ever since they'd left the house, chatting non-stop and pointing out places of interest and tourist attractions as if Trowa hadn't been to Sanque plenty of times previously and had never seemed overly interested in seeing any of them. 'Just follow the shouting.'

Duo and Heero were standing beside Heero's car; Duo wasn't exactly shouting but he was undoubtedly talking loudly enough to be overheard, and neither of them paid a blind bit of notice to their audience of three as the others walked up.

'Listen, Yuy. Une told you to take the day off; there's no way you'll be let into HQ. So you can either go home and sulk and look at case notes you already know off by heart, or you can chill and hang out with us for the day.'

Heero's glare intensified a little bit, but he nodded. 'Yes, dear.'

He said it with heavy sarcasm, but Duo still blushed faintly. 'Right, then. Oh, hey, guys. What do you want to do first?'

'I'd like to go to the farmers' market, if no one minds,' Quatre said. 'I've been informed that I'm to cook dinner tonight, and there are a few things I need to get.'

'Cool. Heero needs to stock up on fruit and veggies as well, so that works for us,' Duo said cheerfully. 'Then we can get some picnic stuff and go for a bit of a hike. Hey, if you're cooking, does that mean we're invited over?'

'You have a standing invitation, you know that.'

That was good, Wufei thought. It was easier to be around Trowa with other people present and if Duo was one of them, there wouldn't be much necessity for anyone else to talk.

'Where are we going exactly?' Trowa had fallen into step beside him.

'Have we never brought you here before?'

No, they probably hadn't. It didn't exactly seem like Trowa's thing, but it was a fairly regular weekend outing for the four of them; the sort of thing that normal couples did together. Once you got past the formal flower gardens, the park sprawled for miles into the mountains and there were trails for hiking or horse-riding or trail-biking.

Wufei liked it for the sheer normality of it all; it was what people did at weekends. There were kids and dogs chasing balls and Frisbees and young couples strolling arm in arm, and families spreading picnics on blankets.

'There's a market on the far side of the car park; it's mostly organic produce from local farmers and food suppliers, but there are some craft stalls and second-hand books as well.'

'Jesus,' Trowa said, surveying it all with one raised eyebrow. 'Sunday in Suburbia.'

'No one asked you to come,' Wufei snapped, and Trowa spun around and moved to catch up with Heero and Quatre.

'He's jealous,' Duo said quietly. ''Fei, it's tough being the one on the outside. Don't be too hard on him.'

Wufei stared, and Duo looked back at him, eyes wide.

'Isn't it obvious? You and Quat are pretty much joined at the hip, and I've got Heero, and Tro's on his own.'

It was true, Wufei realised, thinking about it. It hadn't been an issue before; on Trowa's short visits, he'd either had someone in tow, or to go back to.

'I know how it feels, for him, I think. When I came here after trying to make it on L2, I was pretty lonely as well.'

Wufei nodded. That had been as big a surprise as any; that the gregarious, astoundingly confident Duo could feel lonely and insecure too.

Duo shrugged. 'It wasn't any big deal. You and Quat were amazing, letting me live with you 'til I got a job and my own place, but you two were all loved up, and Heero was pretty much with Relena 24/7 and you all had lives and good jobs and stuff, and I was this guy who didn't have anything much.'

'You do now.'

'Yeah, sure. But I do get how Tro's feeling now. You don't mind Quat asking him to stay, do you? You know what he's like, does this stuff on impulse and then starts to worry about whether he should have.'

'No, it's fine. It's just until he finds an apartment he likes and anyway neither of us is home this week.'

'Oh, yeah. I forgot you were going to that conference. And Quat's going to L4, right? Anyway, I'd have taken him in if I'd had the space, but Heero takes up a lot of room, you know. Hey, did he tell you some wild rabbits or something managed to get into his basement and chewed through all his wiring? It's like there's a curse on that place or something.'

'Or something,' Wufei added dryly.

Duo grinned. 'Plus it's kind of a tradition, isn't it? You and Quat running this rest home for stray ex-Gundam pilots. You took me in, and 'Ro when he stopped working at the palace. It's Tro's turn. Just go easy on him, OK?'

'OK.'

He'd never thought of Trowa as being lonely before, or as someone who particularly needed company. But he knew how being lonely felt. Somehow, he'd never quite fit in on L5, always scared to get close to anyone in case they found out he was gay and then he'd spent most of the war alone, apart from that one night when Trowa had taken him back to the circus.

Duo gave him a shove. 'Now. Go make nice with him.'

'If you tell me what's going on with you and Heero.'

Violet eyes opened impossibly wide. 'He's my bestest friend. You know that.'

'Of course he is,' Wufei said dryly, letting it go. He and Quatre had been 'best friends' for long enough; that first year after the war when Quat had been living on L4 and they'd only seen each other a few times, and the second year when he'd moved back to Sanque. They'd tried to be discreet at the start, partly because they were both very private people and partly for Quat's family's sake. Mostly, though, it was because they'd rather enjoyed having a secret to share, exchanging little smiles and glances in public, finding innocent reasons to touch one another. Of course, they hadn't been nearly as subtle as they thought. When they did finally get around to telling Heero and Duo, they'd known all along.

Quatre and Heero were tasting cheeses; Trowa was standing at one of the market garden stalls, turning an avocado over in his hands like he'd never seen one before. Maybe he hadn't.

'It's called an avocado,' Wufei said quietly, coming up beside him. 'Just take it in the palm of your hand and squeeze it; no, not like that. Gently. It shouldn't feel too hard.'

'I could make a really, really bad joke right now.' Trowa turned to grin at him; it looked fairly genuine. 'Is it a fruit or what?'

'It's what you use to make guacamole.'

'Seriously? I thought that came out of jars. Can we get some?'

'If it's not too boringly suburban for you,' Wufei said snippily, unable to help himself.

'It's sort of nice, OK?' Trowa said. 'Just not what I'm used to.'

'What do you normally do on Sundays?' Wufei asked curiously.

'Depends. Work, sometimes, if I'm on a deadline. Go to the gym. Recover from whatever I did on Saturday night.' He shrugged. 'I don't know; watch a movie or something. Nothing special. Do you guys always come here?'

'Here or the beach, usually, if the weather's nice. I like it,' he said that last a bit defensively. He did like it, even if it wasn't particularly cool or edgy. It was what they'd fought for, surely; so people could take their children to places like this on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

'Yeah.' The little smile on Trowa's face seemed real enough. 'I just didn't think it would be your sort of thing, that's all. I had this image of you holed up in your study with a pile of books.'

'Well, I do that too,' Wufei allowed.

Trowa nodded. 'When we get home, I'll have to show you this book I found on L1 last month. It's very old, I think. Maybe in some kind of Chinese dialect.'

'I'd like that.' He meant it; he'd forgotten Trowa liked books, actual books printed on paper. Quatre wasn't much of a reader; he spent so much time studying reports and balance sheets and infinite, flickering lines of figures that he preferred to do active things when he had some free time.

He'd almost forgotten that Trowa, when he wanted, could be good company, that they had things in common.

The rest of the afternoon went well; they bought picnic supplies and took Trowa up to a viewpoint to eat.

Duo flopped down beside Quatre and immediately embarked on a long, convoluted story about his friend Hilde's latest date. Since no one else could even be bothered to pretend interest, it effectively cut the other three off.

It was oddly pleasant, being five instead of four, Wufei reflected, settling back against a tree trunk with his chicken sandwich. Trowa and Heero were talking about Preventers, Trowa asking about agents he'd known when he'd worked there. Duo was still in full flood and Quatre was listening intently and nodding now and then, and looking particularly lovely, Wufei thought. There were sunbeams tangled in his golden hair, and every so often he looked over at Wufei and smiled.

'So how's Zechs getting on?' Trowa asked.

'He hasn't blown up any planets yet, so I suppose he's doing well enough,' Heero muttered sourly.

'He's not that bad. Just a bit messed up.'

Heero grimaced. 'He had the infernal gall to ask Lucrezia Noin if Duo was single.'

'Good question.' Trowa flicked Wufei a sudden wink and Wufei winked back without even thinking about it.

'What did she say?'

'What do you think?' Heero glared at the chicken leg in his hand. 'It's Duo's nature to be friendly. Sometimes people misinterpret that. I don't know what he sees in that maniac.'

'Oh, let's think,' Trowa grinned at him. 'Where should I start? Top – all that gorgeous hair – or bottom? The guy's got a seriously amazing ass. And he's got that whole brooding, anti-hero thing going for him.'

'Duo isn't that superficial.'

'Duo isn't blind.'

Heero looked a little startled at that, and immediately made some excuse about wanting more salad and moved to sit beside Duo.

'Were you trying to make him jealous?'

'Well, yeah.' Trowa sounded like it was obvious. 'Worked, didn't it? Duo looks happy.'

'I suppose it did,' Wufei replied, looking over at their friends. Duo did indeed look happy to have Heero by his side, having studiously avoided him on the walk up, sticking by Quatre's side and helping him forage for wild herbs and leaves. They'd been snipping at each other in work for the past few days; over Duo wanting to be friendly to Merquise; over Heero spending too much time in the office. It was nice to see them enjoying each other's company. 'I didn't think you knew Merquise that well.'

Trowa shrugged. 'We met during the war, and we were on a few missions together before he took off for Mars.' He slanted a grin of pure evil at Wufei. 'You'd better keep him away from Quatre, by the way. If Quat gets to know him, he'll start to feel sorry for him and probably invite him to move in with you.'

'Absolutely not,' Wufei said firmly. 'I agree with Heero; the man's insane. There is no way he's coming into our house.'

'He's not as bad as he's made out to be. And you've probably said that about me a few times and look how that turned out.'

Wufei sniffed, taking a savage bite out of his sandwich. It was only for a few days, and he wasn't even going to be home for most of them. And Trowa was being well-behaved. Relatively. At least, he wasn't trying to monopolise Quat; in fact, he was rather carefully making sure he talked to the others instead. He could tolerate Trowa like this.

Back home, Quatre cooked while the rest of them sat at the kitchen table and opened a bottle of wine, and passed around olives and nuts and peeled and sliced if necessary and watched him.

Wufei had taught himself to cook from books. When he'd first started at Preventers; when he'd been lost and confused about pretty much everything, it had been a comfort to come home in the evening and follow an exactly-written set of instructions that only worked if you did exactly what they said, if you blended precise measurements of ingredients at the precise room temperature and cooked them for a precise period of time.

Quatre didn't cook like that. He liked experimenting, trying out different combinations of ingredients, trying to emulate or improve meals he'd eaten somewhere else. It was, for him, a totally sensual exercise, all taste and texture and colour.

They ate on the terrace; a salad garnished with herbs from their own garden and leaves and stalks Quatre had picked on their walk, and then a huge chicken casserole.

Although Wufei couldn't identify most of the flavours, he remembered the last time he'd eaten something similar. Their last holiday; five days in Provence after Quatre had had a business meeting in Paris. They'd walked through lavender fields and visited ancient walled cities and eaten more or less non-stop, and after every meal Quatre had asked to speak to the chef. Wufei had usually had to translate, as his French was better, and they'd invariably ended up leaving with a sheaf of hand-written recipes and usually a bunch of dried herbs or a small pot of honey or a bottle of home-made vinaigrette.

'We had this in that little café we went to on our last day in France,' he said suddenly, taking a second mouthful and letting the taste spark off an especially vivid memory. There had been a single sunflower in an earthenware jug on their table and the first shadows starting to descend across the little village square. They'd climbed to the top of the church's bell tower afterwards, to watch the setting sun. 'The one off the main square, right? Where the old lady gave you the jam she made herself?'

Quatre looked delighted. 'You remembered!'

'Of course.'

He remembered, above everything, the feeling of happiness and rightness that he'd been in that place, with the person he loved most in the universe, and now he felt it again, with Quatre smiling at him, in their kitchen, with their friends around them.

The mood lasted the whole evening, and ended with Quatre curled sleepily in his arms after he'd got into bed. Later, he woke for no particular reason and then realised that Quatre wasn't there.

There was the usual brief, uncontrollable, utterly inevitable moment of panic before logic took over. He was in his study, of course; there was a light shining under the door, and Wufei could hear the light click of computer keys. It was just three am.

Being confrontational, with Quatre, never worked. He just became more and more sweetly reasonable in counterpoint.

Instead, Wufei went into the kitchen and made two cups of peppermint tea, and found a box of Quatre's favourite lemon shortbread.

'Hey.'

Quatre looked up at the door opening, and smiled. 'Hello. I'm sorry; I didn't wake you, did I? I tried to be quiet.'

'No, I just woke up.' Wufei found space amid the stacks of paper on the desk and put the little tray down. 'Quat. Do you have any idea what time it is?'

'I know. I'll only be another couple of minutes. I need to finish this.'

'It's three am. How are you supposed to stay awake at work tomorrow if you're up half the night?'

'Coffee?' Quatre's determined smile fell, looking at Wufei's expression. 'It's fine, 'Fei.'

'You're going to L4 on Tuesday. Have you forgotten that? You'll be exhausted before you even get on the shuttle.'

'I haven't forgotten, no.' There was a slight edge to his voice. 'That's why I have to read these papers over now, before I get there. I'd planned to do it today, but I didn't get a chance.'

'Should I apologise for taking up all your time?'

'I didn't mean it like that. I had a fabulous day, but I'm way behind schedule and I've got too much to do.'

'You have all day tomorrow,' Wufei pointed out.

'I have back-to-back meetings, pretty much. I'm going to be away for four days; I've a tonne of stuff to do before I go.'

Wufei sighed. 'You have got to learn to delegate.'

'You can't talk. I remember you staying up all night plenty of times.' Typical Quatre; always the strategist, always determined to keep in control of the high ground.

'When I was a field agent, sometimes,' Wufei allowed. 'If we were stuck on a case. It was never a regular thing.'

That was the problem now; it had got to be a regular thing, and he'd more or less turned a blind eye to it until Trowa had pointed it out.

Just bend him over his desk.

Trowa's voice, whispering in his mind, was lazily assured and knowing and certain. Well, obviously, he wouldn't do that, but he might be able to coax a little.

'Come back to bed, please.'

He bent and nuzzled Quatre's mouth, not so much a kiss as a caress of lips and tongue. Quatre accepted it, lips curving against his and smiling when Wufei let him go.

'Just let me finish this? I won't be long.'

It was what he always said. Always, and he meant it, but then someone would ring from Tokyo or New York or Brussels, or send an email that just had to be answered, and that would be that.

Not this time.

Bending someone over a desk wasn't all that easy when they were firmly installed in a solid swivel chair and had no particular desire to be bent anywhere.

'Wufei, what on earth are you doing?'

He sounded irritated rather than aroused, and then the chair knocked against the desk and the inevitable happened, in a deluge of peppermint tea flooding the desk.

'Oh, no!' Quatre breathed, sweeping a pile of papers off his desk before they got soaked, and then muttered something in Arabic that sounded like a curse.

Wufei grabbed the first sheaf of papers to hand to mop up the mess pooling near his laptop and prompted more curses.

'I've just signed all of those!' Quatre snapped. 'Do you have any idea how long it took me? And now I suppose my computer is ruined as well. Thank you very much.'

'It was an accident,' Wufei said defensively. 'And your computer is fine.'

'It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't tried…mauling me.'

'I'm your boyfriend! Trying to kiss you hardly counts as mauling.'

Quatre glared at him. 'It does, when I'm busy, and I've told you I'm busy. Honestly, when exactly did you turn into such a sex maniac?'

'Maybe when you decided you'd rather sit up alone with your bloody computer than be with me.'

'I spent the whole day with you. And we've had sex twice in the last twenty-four hours so I hardly think you have any grounds for complaint.'

'You weren't exactly complaining at the time. I happen to think our relationship is more important than your damn job. I thought we both believed that.'

'My damn job, as you put it, is what pays for everything, so yes actually, I do believe it's important.'

Wufei froze, literally, unable to believe he'd said that. They'd grown up in similarly moneyed households; there had been servants and extravagant private educations. Growing up, neither of them had ever had a moment's worry about money.

He'd inherited investments and bank accounts on Earth, prudently deposited by his great-grandfather; nothing compared to Quatre's fortune, but enough for him to contribute to buying their house, and to pay university fees and still have some left. Technically, they had a joint account and they both paid in a percentage of their salaries but obviously the amounts weren't remotely comparable.

'I'm sorry,' Quatre said, breathless.

Wufei shrugged. 'It's true. I've always known that. I didn't quite expect you to throw it in my face.'

'You know perfectly well I didn't mean it.' His voice shook slightly. 'Not for a second.'

'You said it.'

'I was angry.' Quatre indicated the strewn, soggy remains of his orderly desk. 'I don't understand why you're acting like this. Is it something to do with Trowa being here?' His eyes narrowed suddenly to sapphire slits. 'Is that what this morning was all about? That you were staking your claim on me or something?'

'No!' Wufei said hurriedly, and then felt himself flush. It hadn't been. It hadn't. But, with Quatre spread beneath him, it had been all about possession, and in so some ways it had been about Trowa.

'Well, what am I supposed to think?' Quatre snapped, one hand full of water-logged papers. 'We don't have sex for weeks and suddenly Trowa moves in and you apparently can't keep your hands off me.'

'We might have sex more often if you weren't always too busy!' He didn't lose his temper with Quatre very often; they were both far too careful with each other for that; too wary of saying things they'd regret later. It didn't mean they never had arguments; just that they were very rare. And he had a sudden vivid memory of how Quatre had looked the previous night, watching Trowa. 'So, this morning. Tell me, Quat. Was it about Trowa for you?'

'I can't believe you said that!' He was truly furious now, and he didn't let himself get like that very often.

'You didn't actually answer me.'

'What do you want me to say?' Quatre asked despairingly. 'I've loved you since I was sixteen. I can't help that you weren't my first.'

'I know.' Wufei's anger shrivelled and died, looking at his boyfriend's face. 'I know. I'm sorry.'

'Me too,' Quatre said at once, and flopped down in his chair, picking up a clump of papers and trying to peel them apart.

'Let me help?'

'No, thank you.'

He didn't think Quat had meant it to come out that harshly. Maybe.

'Sorry,' Quatre said. 'Sorry. This…I have to try to sort all of this mess out.' He gestured to the rumpled papers and files at his feet. 'It'll just be easier if I do it by myself. I know where everything is supposed to go.'

'I'm sorry,' Wufei said uselessly, despairingly.

'It was an accident. I'll fix it.' He'd already dropped to his knees, blond head bent over the files in his hands, and didn't bother to look up.

Damn.

Idiot. Wufei cursed his own stupidity viciously. That was what listening to Trowa Bloody Barton achieved. Quat would probably be up all night, and was clearly furious with him – quite rightly, Wufei admitted – and this, none of this, was how they usually resolved conflict.

Their arguments tended to be as brief as they were unusual; brief, incandescent flare-ups followed by deep, heart-felt apologies and promises and assurances. This was different; a mine field to navigate. By now, one of them should have taken the first step.

But Wufei, underneath the nagging guilt that he was responsible for all of this, still couldn't quite believed what Quat had said – had obviously been thinking all along – about money. And he couldn't forget, because it was burned on his brain, the tableau of Quatre frozen in a pool of golden lamp light, and looking at Trowa.

'Right. I'll just go to bed then.'

Quat did look up at that, face set, mouth in a thin line. He wasn't usually very good at holding on to his anger; there would be a few moments of white-hot rage and then it would fizzle out, but Wufei had said something pretty unforgivable himself, and then pushed it.

So, this morning. Tell me, Quat. Was it about Trowa for you?

He hadn't answered, exactly.

~ * ~

Chapter 6

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