Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Broken People ❯ Chapter 3- Fun and Games at the Circus ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter III- Fun and Games at the Circus

Quatre's POV

March A.C 197

 

I couldn't help but heave a sigh as I sank back in my chair and let my eyes lazily wander around my office. It really was meant to be a beautiful place designed with the best intentions (excuse my mockery); that was only if you ignored the forms, folders and files stacked on every available surface.

 

It was simple, yet elegant. I had one of the best views in the building, high enough up so the sun streamed in unhindered through the large open-paned windows for the greater part of the day. It was unfortunate that with the way my desk was situated that my back was always to the window, but when possible I kept the windows open preferring the hint of breeze that flowed in through the curtains and wisped around the nape of my neck to the stagnant dryness of the air that was pumped in the room by the air conditioning. Although I could have changed the way my office was decorated, I was afraid to touch it; and in honesty couldn't think of a single thing I would change besides the obvious leaning towers of file folders. The walls had a granular texture and were painted in a soothing combination of tans and creams. The curtains and other furniture had been chosen to accent the room in soft yellows and oranges all reminiscent of the sands in the desert. Copies of some of my favorite paintings hung on the wall and the floor was a mottled coloration of amber and red slate tiles. The centerpiece and my most favorite thing in the room was an old beat up desk that simply oozed history and I loved because it was carved out of real mahogany; virtually impossible to find anymore even on the earth.

 

I currently couldn't see the desk at the moment however, and that brings me back to the sigh. If I listened hard enough I would swear my desk was actually groaning under the weight of all the paperwork piled on it; building contracts, price estimates, proposals, land titles—all sound fancy and important, but in the foul mood I was in now they were all stupid, redundant pieces of paper that someone created for the pure reason of aggravating me.

 

Think calm. Just think of calm, peaceful thoughts. I inhaled deeply, putting fresh scratch marks into the desk with my finger nails.

 

There was a point in time that I always surprised clients by liking to be out with Rashid, Auda and the other Maguanacs actually doing the physical labor portion of construction. It caught a lot of people off guard at first; I'm seen a rich kid trying to do an honest day's work; yeah, a lot of people snickered at that. As far as most people are concerned, I was missing during the war. They don't know that I was a Gundam pilot, and therefore I'm just a rich brat who was incapable of getting my hands dirty. I just kept it at that. I don't mind what people say or think about me, because arguing with them won't change their mind. Only actions do.

 

But being out on the sites is like this distant memory in the back of my mind. I missed seeing the sky, the clouds…it was the one reason I remained on Earth and now I don't even get to experience it. The only thing my life consists of are forms for every occasion. I fill out contracts at work, at home, when I'm eating. Hell, I've even been known to do them in the bath tub.

 

“Quatre?” There was a knock on the door and I shot up straight in my chair. I hadn't even been aware that I'd put my head down on my desk. My oldest sister, Laila stood leaning casually against the door frame eyeing me up in amusement. Evidently she'd walked in first, knocked later. “Quatre, the paperwork will still be there in the morning. You can come home with me.”

 

I let a groan slip out as I put my head back in my hands. “The paperwork still being there in the morning's exactly what I'm afraid of!”

 

Laila laughed, but it didn't quite reach her eyes, I noticed, as I peeked up at her through my hands. She was overly protective of me, I imagine it's because she is the oldest and because she has children of her own. She pushed her hip off the door frame and took a few querying steps into the room, eying up the files piled up on top of my desk with an arched eyebrow.

 

I wonder if she could hear it groaning too?

 

“Oh little Quatre…Why don't you just ask for help?” She smiled softly, picking up some of the files and cradling them in her arms. “You know, you don't have to do this. Father would not have expected you to take over the company at this young an age. He'd want you to have a life first!”

 

I snorted and quickly tried to turn it into a cough but she wasn't fooled that easily. “Laila, Father wanted the perfect heir, not a son to have a fulfilled and meaningful life.” I replied a little too sarcastically.

 

“Look Quatre, I won't deny that you and father had problems.” She replied neutrally after a moment's reflection. “But surely we can agree that he wasn't prepared for you to take over at sixteen.”

 

“What, you mean he didn't expect that he was going to croak so soon?” I muttered cynically. I caught her reprimanding eye and bowed my head in apology. I had meant what I said, but my crudeness was definitely uncalled for.

 

Laila sobered a little as she peered closer at my drained face. I didn't even need to reach out to her to feel the worry leaking from her; could feel her suppress the urge to come press her hand against my forehead as if I was a small child with a fever. “Quatre, I'm asking you to be reasonable, please stop for today. They way you've been working lately, anyone would think the world would stop functioning if you went home at a decent time. You'll make yourself sick!”

 

I was torn between bursting out in laughter or throwing myself in her arms and crying. I finally settled on pretending to type something on my laptop. Duo would love her. Hasn't he said the same thing to me before? Except then I believe it had something to do with there being no air in outer space…

 

I yielded with a sigh and threw my hands up in surrender. “Ok Laila. I just….I ….ah, it's nothing. I'm going home! See?” I gestured as I pushed my chair back and started fiddling anxiously with papers.

 

She stayed with me until I'd started to pack my bag, obviously not believing that I'd given up that easily. But, I'd had a sudden…feeling and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd see Trowa tonight. Of all the pilots, Trowa was the only one I saw regularly. Or actually, at all. I saw Duo once; let me tell you I'm still sore about that little incident. Anyway, I guess it'd be more accurate to say Trowa came to see me. He'd let himself into my home as if the security system didn't even exist. That shouldn't surprise me, I mean, I can sneak in and he's had more training then I have; a state of the art system, high walls, alarms and few additional traps set up by me wouldn't be enough to stop a Gundam pilot.

 

The first time that he'd broken in I was the one that ambushed him, and my poor Trowa found himself splayed flat on his back with a gun to his head and a knife at his throat. I wasn't going to let myself slip out of old ways; war ended or not. We all still have targets on our backs; the Gundams do still exist and we are the pilots. That was what I told him anyway, but secretly I was quite proud to have pulled one over on Trowa, god knows how many times he's managed to do it to me. And, once over the initial shock of discovering Trowa in my house, I found myself straddling his hips trying to subdue the rushing heat running through my groin…

 

I managed to snag a ride home with Abdul, and as soon as the house came into view I glimpsed up. Trowa hadn't been for quite a while, but it just had that `knot in my stomach' anxious feeling that tonight would be different. Needless to say I was disappointed when I looked up however. Nothing out of place; no secret clues he always left me that I always searched for now.

 

No Trowa.

 

I tried not to let myself look too dejected as I entered the house. I could hear commotion coming from the main reception room; not unusual as I actually lived with two of my sisters and their families. This time it sounded different; not just the blaring of the TV and hushed `don't wake the children' conversation, but polite chatter and clinking of glasses; someone was actually being entertained there. I curiously poked my head in around the corner of the door, and froze in utter bewilderment as I looked at who the guest was.

 

Trowa. Sitting calmly on the couch bouncing my baby niece, Muna, on his knee while she wrestled with his ear. His calmness only betrayed by the amount of white knuckles I saw on the hand clutching his water glass.

 

Trowa. Sitting calmly on the couch as if this was a regular occurrence. His eyes shining with minor amusement amongst his otherwise guarded features. Trying to act totally relaxed in an unfamiliar situation.

 

Trowa. Sitting on my couch.

 

I must have made some sort of garbled attempt at saying his name, because Trowa glanced up suddenly in my direction. I think my astounded look threw him off, because he hesitated like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, before detaching Muna from his ear and handing her back to my sister Farrah; excusing himself politely.

 

I sank back against the wall as Trowa closed the door to the living room. I'd gone from stressed to excited, depressed, worried, and shocked, all in a matter of minutes. I didn't even know where I was sitting at this point.

 

“You look sick,” he stated neutrally, looking down at the intricate pattern on the carpet with feigned interest. I took his refusal to meet my gaze as an opportunity to probe him gently, reaching out with my mind to detect that familiar consciousness that was Trowa. Tendrils teased me, but I couldn't sense anything more from him, nothing intense, nothing real; normally that'd be a refreshing change from what I deal with every day being around people who might as well be shouting their feelings to me, but with Trowa it just irritated me.

 

“I…no, I'm fine…It's just been a, uh, long couple of weeks,” I replied awkwardly after several seconds, realizing that he was still expecting a reply.

 

“I see.” Trowa really wasn't the easiest of people to start a conversation with on the best of days for most people, including myself. He wasn't so much quiet with me anymore in conversations as enigmatic, contradictory and thoroughly frustrating at times.

 

I'd had some minor breakthroughs during the war, of all the pilots, he was the one who'd I spent the most time with. During the war we were paired together frequently; I'd never been able to figure out why our missions intertwined so much. During the beginning I had wondered whether it was because I wasn't trusted. Maybe it had nothing to do with us, our skills and personalities; maybe it involved the Gundams we piloted. Either way, I was glad. We had grown close, I'm sure even he wouldn't deny that much but…

 

But.

 

I really loathe that `But'…

 

He may be a quiet, detached person, who was intent on pushing me away but…in times of need he was still always there for me; he was my constant. I was relied on by all the others during the war; Duo was unpredictable and extreme, Wu Fei mostly kept to himself, and Heero was more temperamental then the other two combined; the scariest thing was he didn't show it until it was nearly too late.

 

Trowa was-- is the most stable one, perhaps of all of us including myself. I'd never seen him lose his cool in all the time I've spent with him, and over the years we've racked up an impressive amount of time together. No matter what the situation, he remained calm. Always calm. And that made me calm.

 

And then he goes and does this…

 

“I have a surprise.” He said, watching my features calmly. After all I'd just said about predictable I swear my head spun in circles and nearly exploded.

 

Trowa kept me in suspense, and didn't say another word as we left the house. His mask was firmly in place; I certainly couldn't feel anything from him and I couldn't even try to read his face to get an idea of just what the hell was going on.

 

We took his motorcycle, and at first I thought maybe that was the surprise. It was certainly exciting, Trowa blatantly ignoring the speed limit as he pushed the bike faster and faster. We were only wearing those skull cap helmets; you know, the one's with no visor. The wind felt like shards of glass being battered against my unprotected face; coldness I haven't experienced since witnessing the battle in the Antarctic between Heero and Zechs. I had to close my eyes against the vicious assault; hot tears slipping down my face in burning streams. I buried my head as best I could into his shoulders and wrapped my arm's even more snugly around Trowa's waist. Trowa responded by pushed the bike faster, but even with my eyes closed I wasn't scared; it was an odd sensation as we smoothly leaned the bike in and out of traffic, and especially going over speed bumps. Trowa didn't slow down; he sped up and took them like jumps. By the time we started to slow down I was almost disappointed that it was coming to an end.

 

When I could, I finally convince my eyes to pry themselves open, and was stunned to see that the city had vanished and that he'd brought me to the circus. His circus. Apparently I'd been living in more of a hole then I'd thought, locked away in my office, because I didn't even realize, and excuse the cliché here, that the circus was coming to town.

 

“Well...this is it.” Trowa said simply, taking his helmet off and setting on to the seat. He looked at me with what could be interpreted with mild amusement. I'm sure my eyes had grown exponentially trying to take all the sights in at once.

 

“It's amazing...” I managed to spit out as I tried to figure out where to look next. And it truly was magnificent. Although it was quiet now, softly glowing lamps lit the entrance way to each of the many brightly-hued canvas tents. Several in the distance were lit from the inside, and seemed to be glowing and flickering like multicolored fireflies. And in the center of everything was the largest tent of all; calling it a tent was being ignorant and I knew that could only be the big top. It easily stood taller then any of the Gundams, even the Tallgeese which towered above my own Sandrock and was wide enough to hold several hundred people.

 

Trowa started to walk towards it, and I had to run to catch up to him, catching up just as he ducked under the half-closed canvas flap shielding the entrance way. I had been to the circus before; it had been to find Trowa when he had amnesia, but I'd definitely never had the luxury of enjoying myself and having a look around. I wandered slowly into the center, my feet sinking into the fine sand spread about the arena. In the far side, beside another exit various pieces of equipment were stacked carefully out of the way; large balls that stood taller then myself, colorful wooden blocks, long poles and hoola hoops and other odd things I didn't even know the purpose of. Looming high above me were several study platforms which I knew would support the tight rope and trapeze. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it'd be like to be standing up there in front of all those people…the shear awe of it made my mouth go dry.

 

Trowa had disappeared by the time I'd managed to tear my eyes away from everything; his shoes half-buried in the sand the only evidence that he'd actually been there. It wasn't until I glanced back up that I saw him already far above my head, skillfully pulling himself hand over hand up the closest pole to the top of one of the platforms. I'd briefly seen him perform before, but then I'd been too astounded to see that Duo had been right and he was still alive rather then pay any attention to what he had been actually doing up there.

 

This time I wasn't disappointed as Trowa showed me just exactly what he could do. He stayed up for many minutes, starting out by simply walking along the line forwards and backwards. From my vantage point it looked as if he was gracefully floating about in mid air. Gradually he increased the complexity of the moves he was doing; somersaults, back flips, handstands, cartwheels; things I didn't even realize were possible for the human body to do… when he finished and I could see some reluctance in his face as he slowly slid back down the pole.

 

“Did you want to try?” He asked, slightly out of breath as he walked back towards me. I stopped in mid-thought and stared at him in disbelief. Was he kidding me? I couldn't see any evidence that he wasn't serious, but still, it was Trowa. And today he'd done nothing but shock me.

 

“Are you serious? No, are you completely nuts!” I exclaimed, backing away from him nervously. As if that would help anything. “Trowa, I've never done anything like that in my life. I'd fall! I'd break my neck or my leg…I'd break something important! I'd be killed!”

 

“I wouldn't let you fall.” He calmly ignored my exaggerations as he interjected mid-rant. I believed him. It would have been easy of him to simply brush it off with a wave of his hand, but his tone was unquestioningly certain. He looked at my still nervous features and finally, finally, let some shred of emotion slip out. I could feel the warmth of his assurance; his… protectiveness?

 

“Quatre, I wouldn't suggest it if you weren't capable. I could show you something else…or we could go on the practice rope?”

 

Now that sounded intriguing. Slightly…less threatening. I couldn't believe he'd been serious about letting me up there. “What's the practice rope?” I asked hesitantly.

 

“It's in here.” He said shortly, turning his back to me and padding across the sand to the other entrance way I'd noticed earlier on the far side of the ring. Rather then lead to outside like I had assumed, it opened up into another smaller arena. In the center was what only could be the practice rope. I was happy to see it was placed much lower then the one in the main arena; it was about level with my shoulder. It also had several cushy crash mats place underneath.

 

Nevertheless, I tried not to twitch as I stared at it; this thin length of cord barely as thick around as my little finger that Trowa was expecting me to walk across for some bizarre reason. I managed to summon up enough courage to choke out, “Well, that looks more like my height.”

 

I actually gained a smile out of Trowa with that; clearly he wasn't fooled. Hell, I wasn't fooled. But, he was starting to ease up and become that Trowa that I had grown to know and expect during the war. The guarded way he'd been acting around me lately was just…abnormal.

 

“This is the practice rope that Catherine and I use to try out new routines. It's a bit thicker then the other one.” I nearly choked when he said that.

 

“That is thicker?” I eyed it up dubiously.

 

Trowa laughed. Just hearing him laugh brought a smile to my face. I mean, it's very rare for him to laugh; even with all the time I have spent with him. I wished he'd do it more often; it was such a warm, throaty sound that… made me feel happy. I could sense his amusement which only intensified the moment.

 

“You should do that more often.” I smiled nervously at him in the same moment as he said 'did you want to try?'.

 

“S..sorry?”

 

“Did you want to try?” He studied my face seriously, those green eyes of his burning into mine seemingly trying to read my mind. “Quatre, you'll be okay, I promise I won't let you get hurt.”

 

I still hesitated uneasily. I really couldn't believe myself, at how much of a coward I was acting! I've never lost faith in Trowa before, and he'd said those two important binding words, that Trowa had never taken lightly, nor had he broken them.

 

`I promise.'

 

Why was I disregarding that? It was an itty-bitty little rope not more then four feet in the air. I have had guns pointed at me, I've been stabbed and injured in more ways then you can think of and I was allowing myself to stress out over this little piece of rope. It was not a big deal. God, I was being such an idiot! I was making a complete fool of myself in front of the person who I spent my time trying to impress.

 

That was it. I'd made up my mind.

 

Clearly Trowa had been watching the whole internal war going on; I obviously wasn't as adept at hiding what I was feeling unlike some people I happened to know. As my mind slowly whirled around to resolution, he turned his back and sprang up lightly onto it, and started to deftly check over the tightrope, making some minor adjustments as he went and did a `test run' over it.

 

He held out a hand, calloused and rough in my grasp as he pulled me up easily beside him. Suddenly the tightrope looked a helluva lot higher then four feet. With no encouragement from Trowa, I gritted my teeth and took a tentative step out. The rope dipped down unexpectedly under my weight and I cried out in alarm as I went stumbling backwards into Trowa's outstretched arms.

 

His embrace lasted…slighter longer then was necessary. Shivers fired up and down my spine, warmth flushed through me and I could feel my cheeks heat up as I gently eased myself out of his arms. He didn't make it any easier for me to ignore the tightness growing in my trousers and the urge to turn and kiss him as his hands never left my body; running along the underneath each of my arms gently so they were extended at my sides.

 

“Hold your arms like this,” he breathed in my ear, his breath pleasantly warm against my skin. His hands barely touched me as he guided me back in front of the rope. I tried to force myself to relax and concentrate, but his fingers trailing lightly across my skin were impossible to disregard. After a deep breath, I pulled away from him and his gentle hands onto the rope, taking one tentative step. Then another. I jerked in astonishment at the second step and immediately lost my concentration; my arms wind milling wildly as I landed with an awkward thud onto the mats below. I stared blankly up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly in bewilderment as my lungs tried to pull a breath in.

 

Trowa's face appeared above mine and he held a hand out. “Did you want to stop? There are other things we can do.”

 

“I'm fine.” I giggled, grabbing his hand and letting him pull me to my feet. “Falling wasn't so bad. You make it look so easy though, it's incredible!”

 

“Well, you'll never master it. Neither will I.” He stated casually, shrugging his shoulders. I turned away from him, not expecting him to say anymore, but to my surprise he continued talking as I pulled myself back onto the platform.

 

“Most people start learning acts in the circus as babies from their families.” There was slight emphasis on that last word, and I looked over at him sharply. It had been an unintentional slip however and he continued talking as if he hadn't noticed. “There are some people in this circus that are fifth generation.”

 

“But you haven't always been in the circus have you?” I stood above him, listening intently. If Trowa was finally going to have more than three word conversations with me I was going to listen.

 

“Well…” He hesitated slightly, “No. And I'm nowhere near as good as some people. But we're gundam pilots.” He said carelessly as if that explained everything. And maybe it did, I mean, we've all gone through extensive training to even be able to pilot the gundams. We've had to adapt to new situations, new weapons, new skills; and that was all this was, a new skill. I pondered that briefly before realizing that Trowa was still talking to me.

 

“Sometimes fear along is the reason some people can't do this, or don't even try. Conquering that is the first step. “

 

I had to laugh at that. “Trowa, I will never dare to say I've conquered fear. That's just inviting trouble, and I've had enough of that to last several lifetimes.”

 

He gave me a weak smile, but then slipped into silence once again and with a small sigh I took a small step out onto the rope. This time I made it five paces, and when I realized I was wobbling too much to recover I jumped off and managed to land nimbly on my feet. With each time, my body was picking up on the adjustments that had to be made in my balance at various places on the rope.

 

I climbed back up and tried again, so intent on making it across and figuring this puzzle out that I didn't realize Trowa had disappeared again. It wasn't until I saw a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye that I realized he wasn't still standing watching me, and I found myself on the ground once again with a undignified crash as I watched Trowa walking atop a large ball around the small arena. His control and precision was incredible as he walked an obstacle course around the equipment littering the sand; forwards, backwards, even somehow managing to jump over small objects. He felt so calm and meditative.

 

I had to tear my gaze away from him but I was now determined to make it across this damn rope. It looked to be about twenty feet across; I'd gone a total of five in one attempt.

 

We slipped back into that familiar routine, practicing together; no words exchanged just like the nights when we played music together. I channeled the meditative feeling he was emanating into my own activities. Trowa was calm; I was calm. Sometimes I made it two steps, sometimes fifteen; in a daze I no longer noticed falling off, each time I did I simply found myself back on the rope calmly walking across once again.

 

In my detached state Trowa took me by surprise as he materialized on the rope in front of me. I hadn't noticed the gentle bowing of the rope under my feet with the additional weight; hadn't even been aware of each tremor of his footsteps--he was just that fluid. He put his hands smoothly under my outstretched arms to carefully guide me across; effortlessly walking backwards as I wobbled forwards.

 

“I did it!” I gasped as both my feet were safely planted on the far platform. I couldn't help beaming at him, I could even feel my face flushing with the shear exhilaration of it.

 

“Ready for the real thing now?” Trowa asked, a slight smile giving away that he wasn't totally serious.

 

“No, I have to save something for next time.” I joked back, pushing my hair out of my face before turning back to face the rope again. “But I will go over this one again.”

 

Trowa nodded and he too turned around so that once again he was just casually walking backwards. We did it this way several times, with each pass he moved closer and closer to me until his hair tickled the sensitive skin on my forehead. It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on what I was doing, but so far my body was compensating for my straying mind. His own feelings weren't making it any easier and I leeched off his enjoyment. Just when I was about to clear those last few inches between us and make a move he let a sigh escape from his lips, pulling away from me abruptly and flipping off the rope.

 

“I should probably take you home.” He said as I jumped off beside him. “It's late.”

 

I made some unintelligible noise of agreement, but his retreating back stung. Something had changed. In those few short moments something had changed. I could detect…something. I couldn't describe it any better. A strange feeling emanating from him. I spent the entire ride home in deep thought; so profound, in fact that this time I was blissfully unaware of the wind, of the traffic; anything other then my arms around his slight waist. He really was so secretive, even now after all the five of us have been through. Even now he still has to hide. But I didn't understand why?

 

He's not as calm as he was leading me to believe, I suddenly realized. He's not right, still. He's worried, or…upset? I could sense something…but what was it? He looked like he was having fun tonight.

 

--Masks? The masks…I threw that word about in my head back and forth for several moments, but I couldn't figure out where it had slipped out from. Something someone had said once…maybe? But what did it have to do with this issue?

 

Trowa, don't you know the war's over? You don't have to hide yourself away anymore! But…it takes time. I know that, and I will be here from you when you're ready. I can trust you Trowa, I know that. So please, trust me too!

 

I was rudely jolted out of thought with the shudder of the bike engine being killed. I hadn't even realized we'd turned into the drive, nor come to a stop.

 

“When will you come again Trowa?” I pressed softly, swinging my leg over the bike and fumbling with the helmet strap.

 

“I…I don't know,” he replied hesitantly. He paused for a moment as if to say something. I waited curiously, noticing a flicker; a crack. For a fleeting moment I could feel his uncertainty, tinged with something else, like—disgust? But then the wall shot back up and I was left in the dark. Trowa had changed his mind. He flipped his visor back down and without so much as a backwards look, sped out the driveway.

 

Leaving me. Standing there like a fool and leaving with more questions about us then I'd ever had before.

 

You will tell me one day, won't you Trowa? Tell me your secret; why you let yourself still feel so much pain…

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

When Trowa got back late that night, he lit a cigarette to try and calm the anxiety that was causing his organs to churn, twist and shake violently. The encounter with Quatre had left him feeling unbalanced and to deter himself from pacing, he grabbed a cloth and started to rub the leather seats off. Suddenly, he sensed the subtle footsteps of someone creeping up behind him and whipped around to look in alarm.

 

“Oh…Cathy? Did I wake you?” He asked mildly, willing his face to remain neutral. Catherine didn't have a sixth sense like Quatre, but still had an unnerving ability to pick up on what he was feeling.

 

She looked at him oddly as she took a few tentative steps forward. “Trowa…?”

 

She sounded strange, but when she didn't continue, he turned back around to finish wiping his bike down. He was glad she couldn't hear his heart pounding.

 

“You like him, don't you Trowa? You like that boy.” It wasn't a question, and he didn't like the direction this conversation was taking.

 

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Trowa replied tersely. He threw down the cloth in disgust and roughly pushed his way past Catherine. Blatantly ignoring his name being called, he disappeared into the murky depths of the night; the glowing butt of the cigarette still smoldering in the grass the only evidence he'd ever been there.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Been staying at my boyfriend's for a while and his computer only used open office which is why slow on the updates. This story is currently finished on fanfiction.net. The sequel is in progress and I now have a beta reader. Rejoice! LOL…

 

Enjoy!