Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Happiness ❯ One-Shot

WARNINGS: AU, OOC-ness, angst, sap.

PAIRINGS: 4 x 3 x 4

RATING: PG. . .

ARCHIVE: Nothing, bar fanfiction.net under Anastasia Kushrenada

DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine, not the Gundam guys or the rights to them. Not even Berenice - she's a wonderful person, though. And she draws BEAUTIFULLY!!

NOTES: First real Quatre-centered fic. Tell me how I went, please.

I had no idea where I was going, no idea where it went. Loosely based around events in my own life, except I have no happy ending. I think it was going to have a message. I don't know if I succeeded, though.

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

Quatre smiled at the picture before him. Once again he had set up someone that he thought he might learn to love up with one of his sisters. Now, at least, each of them were happy. And he was responsible for every single one's happy smiles and wedding photo's. Sure, it hurt him. It hurt a lot, even more so because he kept surrounding himself with pictures of those weddings. Of his sisters beaming faces beside those few people that Quatre had actually felt a connection with.

But he knew it was all for the best. He wanted nothing more than to make those he loved happy. His loneliness was a small sacrifice, something that was not needed when surrounded by the other happiness that he had caused. But now who did he have to make happy?

He picked the picture up, tilting it so that it caught the light, blurred the faces beside his own. He contemplated the fake smile that he had on. The one he donned for everyday wear. It was almost like Duo's smile from the war.

He could see the strain showing in his façade. Around his eyes, slight wrinkles from holding that face in place were starting to show. The corners of his mouth were beginning to get a pinched look when he wasn't smiling. His forehead looked strained when he considered himself normally in the mirror. Whoever said that smiling was good for you was a liar.

Standing, Quatre placed the picture back on his desk, adjusting it so that it was in its exact position, the position that it had been from the minute he had received it. He looked around his office, taking in everything around him. His eyes raked over his desk, the pictures and diplomas on the wall, the book case with books on business almost overcrowding it, the cream coloured walls, white ceiling, skirting boards of a peach colour. He suddenly felt depressed, stifled. He didn't want to be here.

He moved out from behind his desk, moving his chair back into place underneath. He picked up the papers that he had been working on before he had been distracted by the picture and put them back into their files. He turned the intercom on to his secretary.

"I'm going home early, Berenice. Can you make sure that I don't have any urgent meetings in the next couple of days, and cancel everything that can be? I don't know when I'll be back in."

"Sure thing, Quatre. Anything else you want me to do?" Her happy and eager to please voice grated at Quatre. It was like patting a cat against the grain or drawing nails down a blackboard. And yet, he couldn't help but smile genuinely. She was an amazing girl, and one of the few people who actually listened when he insisted that everyone call him Quatre.

"No, but thanks, Berenice. I'll call in to catch you up in a day or two on what I'm doing." He said, reaching over to turn off the intercom.

"Alright. Um, Quatre?" Quatre paused, his hand mid air above the `Intercom off' button.

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? I mean, I know I shouldn't be asking, but, you know, if you ever wanted to talk to someone. . ."

Quatre smiled. She really was a fantastic girl. He was sure that she had her own share of problems, and yet she was always putting others ahead of herself. And she did it gladly, willingly. Unlike how he tried to do it.

"I'll be alright. Thanks for caring, Berenice. Bye." He turned the intercom off, not wanting to hear a reply and tearing himself apart for hanging up on such a pure person.

He pack up his things methodically, moving from one side of the room, placing papers and books, files and discs into the slim leather case. He closed it gently once he was done and moved out of the room so that he could take his personal elevator down to the bottom floor. He walked past the window without so much as a glance.

Down in the car park, Quatre went into his car, throwing his case on the back seat as he slid in. He started the engine without so much as a flicker of appreciation at the gentle purr of the machine, as was his normal behaviour. He began his drive home, a thoughtless drone concentrating on the road without a second thought about anything else.

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

Quatre was nearing the estate where his house was when he saw the ad. The bright colouring caught his eyes and he slowed his driving so that he could see what the sign had to say.

`CIRCUS!!! In town for one day only. Two performances - 1.20pm and 4.40pm. $5 entry, children under 8 are free. Bring the Family!'

He stopped the car, not really knowing why and took note of the address. He didn't really have much else to do, anyway. So he turned the car around and drove to the circus. He'd never even been to the circus, so perhaps now was a good time to try.

Arriving at the circus he parked his car and moved away from the throng entering the Big Top. Instead, he moved around the back, taking in the pre-performance preparations and bustle. He walked over to where the animals were, feeling a strange need to see them.

He walked up to the cage and peered in. It contained two lions. They were awe inspiring in their beauty, lazily sprawled on the ground, and yet still conveying a coolness and pride that no human could replicate. Quatre had always held a fascination for anything feline, the wild cats especially.

He moved on to the next cage, admiring the lionesses. One was pacing back and forth across the front of the cage, restless or awaiting something, Quatre couldn't tell which. The other two were laying around in much the same way as the lions had been. One of them lifted it's head at the sound of Quatre's approach, it's eyes half opening lazily. Once she saw the blonde, she lost interest, going back to her dreams of the wild instead.

Quatre stared for a moment. The intelligence that he had seen in the one gaze was. . . indescribable. It was as though the memories of a thousand Queens had been placed in the large creatures eyes. He wondered, not for the first time, at the real intelligence of animals.

Letting his feet lead him, Quatre moved on. His arms were behind his back, swinging his legs slightly with his steps. He admired every animal that it was possible to see, gawking like some tourist who had never seen wildlife before. A slight smile flickered across his face as he thought of what his employee's would think of him like this. Most likely they wouldn't believe it was him and move on.

He found himself back in front of the big cats, staring fixedly at the way the largest lionesses paws spread slightly as she placed weight on it. He could imagine what it felt like simply by looking at it - the callused outer and soft inner tissue. It would be a strange experience trying to touch it. He was almost tempted, reaching out his hand to touch it when he was interrupted.

"Hey, got a minute? I could use a hand here." The voice sounded nice enough, very girly and happy, maybe even slightly irritating. The relaxed atmosphere had lulled him, so he decided to consent to the request.

The girl was holding up a rather large trunk on one end. How she had known that he was there from behind it was a wonder. Careful not to squash his fingers, Quatre picked up the other end.

"Just over here." She said, her breath coming in pants from her exertion. "Thanks!" she said brightly as they placed it down near one of the caravans.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was a bit rude of me, asking for your help without even introducing myself! I'm Catherine Bloom, the knife thrower here."

She extended her hand and Quatre took it automatically. "Quatre Winner."

Catherine placed a hand over her mouth, shocked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even recognise you! Oh, I can't believe that I actually asked the CEO of Winner Enterprises for help lifting a chest!"

That brought a smile to Quatre's face. He decided that he didn't actually mind the girl, despite the annoying voice. "It's fine, really. What's in there, anyway? It's quite heavy for it to be just clothes."

Catherine's face flushed slightly as she realised that she was engaging in a conversation with /the/ Quatre Winner. She couldn't afford to be rude, though.

"It's for a new member, Trowa. He's performing now - our newest acrobatic clown. He used to look after the lions and the other animals, but he was promoted last week. He's a clown from now on."

Quatre's interest was piqued from the reference to the lions. "Who feeds the lions now, then?"

"Um, I think Trowa's doing it in his free time, now. Just until we hire someone else to take care of them. It's surprisingly hard to find someone. Not many people want to get into a cage with the three big girls and clean it out." She indicated to the lioness cage.

Quatre nodded understanding. "They are beautiful, though. There's not much that I have on my `Things to do before I die' list, but feeding lions is one of them."

Catherine smiled. "I have an idea. How about you wait until after the show, and I'll get Trowa to take you to feed the lions with him? It can be repayment for being so rude earlier."

Quatre smiled, thanking Catherine over and over again. He couldn't believe it - he was going to be feeding lions!

He and Catherine stayed chatting outside of Trowa's caravan until both shows had been completed. They hardly noticed they were getting along so well. Trowa still hadn't come by, but Catherine said that Trowa didn't always come back between performances. He sometimes stayed to help out backstage, fixing glitches from the previous show.

By the time that Trowa finally appeared, the sun was starting to set. Quatre was laughing at something that Catherine had said, and she was hiding her face in her hands and giggling as well.

"Catherine." Trowa greeted her.

Catherine's head shot up and she looked into Trowa's eye. "Hey, Trowa." She skipped down the stairs happily and gave him a hug. She didn't care that he didn't return it; Trowa wasn't that sort of person.

"Trowa, this is Quatre. Quatre, Trowa Barton." She introduced the two. "Quatre helped me move your stuff, so I was wondering. . . would you be able to take him to feed the lions?" She batted her eye lashes sweetly.

Quatre seemed to sense that Trowa didn't really want to share his responsibility that much. He stood. "It's alright. Don't worry about it. I should be getting back home, anyway. There's a million and one things that I should have done today."

He moved down the steps quickly, talking again before Catherine could say anything. "Thanks for the great time, Catherine. Maybe I'll come by next time you're in town if my sisters don't decide that the CEO of Winner Enterprises should live in the office." He laughed at this. He knew his sisters meant well, and only wanted him to be the best person he could be, but they didn't realise that being the best person you could be sometimes meant that you got out a little as well.

Catherine looked at Quatre and back to Trowa. She shot him a glare, as though it was his fault that Quatre couldn't hang around for longer.

"Alright, Quatre. We'll be here until tomorrow at about noon. It'll take us that long to pack up. If you want to say goodbye again before then, you can." She gave Quatre a hug, which, after the shock of having someone volunteer to touch him had worn off, Quatre returned.

The blonde left, saying a quick goodbye to Trowa, who was still trying to find the words to speak. Trowa couldn't explain it, but he felt a profound sadness as Quatre left. It wasn't meant to be like this something in his heart whispered to him.

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

Quatre didn't know why he stayed driving around. All he knew what that it was now dark and he was making his way back to the circus, for some reason. He guessed it might have something to do with saying goodbye to the lions, but he didn't know.

He carefully got out of his car and walked around the back again. It was almost silent. Almost, because in a place where there were humans, it could never truly be silent. He moved to the lion cages, staring first at the lions for a time, gently reaching in a running his hands through the Mayne of one of them. It was course, so his surprise. From the look of it, he was expecting it to be soft and flowing. However, it was almost like fake dolls hair it was that wiry.

Moving on to the lionesses cage, he stood transfixed for a time. The largest was laying up close to the bars, it's chest rising and falling in its sleep. Occasionally a paw twitched, betraying nature of the animals dreams. It was something that Quatre had never seen before. He had never, in all his life, gazed upon a sleeping creature, be it human or animal.

He heard soft steps behind him and he turned swiftly, his stance ready for defending himself, his hands at his sides but ready should he need to actually act.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again. It looks as though Kayla has your interest." Trowa said from the darkness, stepping out once he was finished speaking. He moved alongside Quatre, who had relaxed once he realised who it was.

"They're beautiful. I can not think of another animal that has the power, grace and intelligence of a lion." Quatre's voice held a hint of reverence.

Trowa laughed softly. "You're views change slightly after cleaning out their cages for a week."

Quatre laughed as well, then sighed, resting his head up against the bars of the cage, his hands wrapping around the poles.

"Are you sure you want to be doing that?" Trowa asked, moving up behind him, ready to pull the smaller blonde away if the lionesses decided that they didn't want him there.

"They won't hurt me. Part of the `gift' of being a Winner. I can sense their emotions, and communicate with them somewhat via emotional signals." He sighed again, a depression settling over him that he wasn't expecting. "They don't really care about me at the moment. They can smell me, but they don't think of me as threatening. The smallest one has even included me in her dream. . . I think that I am some sort of play thing who she keeps tearing apart but I keep regrouping and running away."

Trowa smiled, feeling safe to do so at night. "That's a pretty good description of her, you know. She thinks that life is one big game and we're here solely for her enjoyment and play."

After a pause, in which both men looked at the lions, Trowa spoke up again. "I am sorry if I wasn't sociable this afternoon. I just. . . normally, I don't talk unless it's necessary. That, and it didn't feel right talking to you in front of Catherine, I don't know why, exactly."

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Quatre said distractedly. Something else seemed to be occupying his thoughts.

"I know it's most likely not my place. . ." Trowa said uncertainly. "But if you want, I'll be here if you want to talk about what's bothering you."

Quatre turned, facing Trowa with a thankful smile on his face. "I think I might take you up on that, Trowa."

Trowa smiled, he wasn't expecting Quatre to do that. "Back to my caravan, then? So we can talk quietly."

Quatre nodded and they moved to Trowa's caravan, nearly soundless in the still night. Once they were inside, Quatre seated on Trowa's chest and Trowa on the bed, Quatre let it all out. His feelings about leading each of his sisters to happiness, his boredom at work, his issues at work, at home, his lack of friends. . . everything. Trowa nodded and listened through it all, finding himself becoming more and more connected with the blonde as he progressed through his troubles.

With a sigh, Quatre finished. "Sometimes, I just wish I could run away and join the circus with. . . I don't know. . . someone special to me. I could look after the animals and never perform, out of the spotlight for once in my life."

Trowa nodded mindlessly at the last statement, and then halted himself. Quatre couldn't have just said that. But it must have been, the odd colour that Quatre was turning. It seemed that he had vented without thinking about his words. Trowa smiled.

"Well, there's always my job. Or, my old job. I could show you the ropes, you could hand Winner Enterprises over to your sisters, and you could come around the world with us. As for someone special, I don't think that Catherine would be adverse to the idea. . ." Trowa trailed off as he realised that if he ever saw Catherine and Quatre together, it would hurt him. He didn't know why.

"I dunghfergurhuls." Quatre mumbled his face turning bright red.

"What?" Trowa asked, missing it entirely, but letting his heart skip a beat at what he thought that Quatre had said.

"I.. . I, uh. . . I don't go for girls. Nothing against Catherine or anything." Quatre added hastily, trying to make Trowa forget the admission that he had just made.

"Well, then. Would you be interested in, perhaps, considering me?" Inwardly, Trowa was shocked at his forward behaviour. This was nothing like how he normally acted. Outwardly he was practically radiating hope.

Quatre thought everything over for a few minutes. He would be giving everything up, and all that had really brought it on was a wish to be closer to Trowa. That was what won him over in the end. His old life could go to hell, he finally had the chance to be happy. That, and fulfil one of his dreams of feeding lions.

"Alright. We can get my stuff tomorrow before we leave."

Trowa sat perfectly still on his bed, unsure if what he just heard was true. It couldn't be. He barely knew this guy, and yet he knew that he had just, somehow, committed himself into a very serious relationship.

Quatre smiled at Trowa, leaning in a placing a gentle kiss on the still shocked mans lips. "Thank you for freeing me, Trowa."

Trowa gulped. Stuff logic, it's overrated anyway. He reached out and placed his hand behind Quatre's head, bringing their foreheads together. "It's no trouble, Quatre. Trust me, it's my pleasure."

Gently, he smoothed his thumbs across the lines that had begun to mar Quatre's face; rubbing the cares from the past away, the fake smiles and the façade of happiness, without even realising it. Nothing that wasn't real could show on Quatre's face from this moment on. Quatre could almost feel his stresses deserting him, leaving him pure and happy, content for the first time in his life; content without the stab of jealousy that needed to be contained, or the reminders of solitude.

Quatre smiled and let Trowa bring them into another kiss, this one slow and tantalising. After they pulled back, Quatre smirked. "I don't have a bed tonight, then." He said with a pout.

Trowa smiled evilly and drew Quatre down onto the bed with him; there was more than enough room if they didn't mind sleeping all over each other. He somehow didn't think that Quatre would mind. Freedom in cramped quarters. . . he liked it.

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

Outside Catherine held back her tears. Both Trowa and Quatre were happy. She should be even happier! She had just let the two people she had ever though that she could love be taken by each other. It always worked out this way. She was always setting up everyone else's happiness up, but never her own. She sat in the darkness with silent tears streaking lines down her face. One day, one day she would find someone. Hopefully. . .

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

AN: I decided that Trowa didn't always have to be the one to leave his life behind for Quatre - It's not fair! Besides, joining the circus is a much more sensible idea. Who'd actually WANT to stay at a desk, slaving away over tedious documents??? See my logic?