Quatre's eyes closed softly as he lay his fingers on the cool piano keys, silent in the moment before he began playing. Outside birds sang and danced along his windowsill, begging their mates to reciprocate their affections. He smiled as he listened, reminding himself to appreciate the sound. The Winner Estate on earth, the family's original estate, allowed him to be close to the untamed woodland creatures that couldn't be brought to the colonies for practical reasons.

And I know I should be happy here, Quatre sighed. But I feel so...empty.

A strong gust of wind swept by the window, carrying the miniature concert away on their wings to better opportunities. Quatre blinked when their music stopped and glanced out of the spotless glass. It took time, getting used to seasons again. Spring was melting away into summer, the flowers were in full bloom, and the morning shower had washed the clouds away, leaving a clear blue sky in its wake. He stared at the road that disappeared into the horizon, sighed again, and began to play.

Beautiful melancholy notes echoed through the house, surprising a few of the servants. No one had known the young master was awake, and so early, too. The sun was barely creating over the horizon. Below, in the spacious garden beneath the window, Rashid lit a cigarette and stared at the same road Quatre had. Watching over his young master had driven him to smoking, which always made him smirk when he thought of it. The sweet, polite young man that charmed everyone he met was more of a handful than the worst rich brat on the earth. These quiet moments, when Quatre wasn't running off to save the world from itself, were far and few between, even now that the war was over. But at least no one was aiming a gun at the master now. Those worries were gone, and Quatre seemed to have escaped the conflict without serious emotional trauma.

At least he hadn't seen evidence of psychological scarring.

A faint rumbling in the distance broke into his thoughts, and his head snapped up in hasty fear. Time seemed to rewind and Rashid was certain a pack of mobile dolls was racing down the road, guns blazing. He shook his head to clear his mind. No, it was a motorcycle approaching fast, dust flying behind it. He frowned and followed it with his eyes.

The music suddenly halted as Quatre glanced back out the window and froze. He gasped in disbelief, paralyzed in delight, then bolted from the music room, racing down the long corridors to the front of the mansion. As he reached the grand staircase, he ignored the servants' stares and slid sideways down the banister, riding almost entirely on his right side until he leaped off at the bottom. The servants just chuckled and continued their chores. For all the master's manners and ingenuity, he was still an adolescent boy.

He burst out of the front doors just in time to see the motorcyclist stop at the driveway and stand up. The helmet was set on the handlebars as the rider stared at him.

"Trowa!" Quatre cried, throwing himself into Trowa's arms. The tall boy allowed himself a moment of emotional indulgence and spun Quatre around once, holding him even closer.

"I've missed you so much, little one," he whispered, stroking the silky hair under his fingers.

"Oh, Trowa...don't ever leave me again," Quatre responded warmly, gazing into the other boy's dark eyes.

A vague hint of a smile touched Trowa's lips, and he kept one arm firmly pinning Quatre to his body while his other hand cupped behind the blonde hair, tilting his head back. Neither caring who saw, Trowa bent a few inches and softly pressed his mouth on Quatre's. The smaller boy smiled and shut his eyes, lost in ecstasy.

"I don't think I ever will," Trowa said when they finally pulled away.

Quatre, too breathless to speak, took several seconds to reply. They both heard the grandfather clock in the house count off seven chimes, reminding them exactly how early it was.

"My little angel got up before dawn just to meet me?" Trowa teased, always surprised at the playfulness Quatre drew out of him.

Quatre couldn't help his blush. "And you must have been riding a few hours before that, just to get here sooner."

Trowa held silent, but he nodded once.

Quatre grinned and kept his arm around Trowa's waist, tugging him forward. "Come on, I'll fix breakfast," he offered, knowing better than to ask Trowa if he was hungry. He would never admit it.

"You don't have to go to that trouble--" Trowa started as Quatre pulled him in, already knowing what he'd say.

"No trouble. You know I like to cook."

Around the corner of the mansion, Rashid watched the pair disappear back inside. His frown deepened in concentration, and he headed back into the garden.

Breakfast finished, they stepped out the back doors and into the expansive garden, immediately finding themselves surrounded by thousands of flowers in full bloom. The pair wandered aimlessly through the cultivated Eden, chatting mildly on and off about different topics. Their arms were wrapped tight around each other, however, as if they were afraid one of them might suddenly vanish.

"You could have called," Quatre said softly, leaning against Trowa's side. "I could have come pick you up."

A strong arm was draped over his shoulders, clutching him close. "No, it was too early to wake you," Trowa murmured. "Besides, the ride relaxed me. I hate flying in airplanes."

"Duo called yesterday," Quatre suddenly broke into a new topic.

Trowa glanced down curiously at him, but waited for him to continue.

"He wanted to know if the motorcycle was running fine. Um...when did you find time to visit him and Heero?"

Trowa resisted the urge to smile. Ever since Duo had thrown a surprise party for the Arabian, Quatre was worried any time the other pilots got together without inviting him. He hadn't been embarrassed, of course, but Quatre had almost turned pink when he'd opened up a present and found a pair of velvet lined handcuffs "for his one-man harem." His apprehension towards Duo was understandable.

Not that Trowa had minded so much. Quatre just has more delicate sensibilities, he knew, at least in public. Out loud, he started to explain his absence. "Duo said he needed help finding something special for his kids for the summer."

Quatre chuckled to himself. "And he was leading you into offering your circus for a performance or two?"

Trowa shook his head in awe. "I didn't even realize what was happening until halfway into the conversation. He had the offer out of me before I knew it. Of course it was as good spot as any for them to start their tour."

"But why your circus? I'm sure there were plenty others around their spot."

Trowa shrugged. "No one else would take the job."

"You mean no one else was willing to put up with Duo, Heero, and a bunch of hyperactive kids."

"That, too. Mainly Heero, though. I must admit, I never thought he had it in him to take care of some thirty-odd kids, but no matter how sullen he gets, he's still got them running over him."

"So I take it the Maxwell Orphanage is doing well?"

"Maxwell-Yuy Orphanage," Trowa corrected him. "Duo insisted. Said it made Heero feel more involved, although he would never admit it."

"And I suppose your other motorcycle broke down while you were there?"

"No, Heero took it apart to show the kids how an engine runs, and it wasn't ready by the time I was set to leave."

Quatre laughed at that. "Duo's becoming a bad influence on Heero. I hate to think what those kids are going to turn out like."

"Hopefully children who will never know what war is. People who will only know peace."

"Peace feels so strange," Quatre murmured. "I'm still not used to it all. Sometimes I think I'm just dreaming, and that any minute I'll wake up and we'll be back in space, still fighting."

"I know what you mean," Trowa replied as they continued down the stone path. "I have nightmares where we're fighting each other, only this time Heero destroys you and Wing Zero, or you simply lose yourself in your madness."

Quatre shivered and pressed himself harder against his lover. "I hate thinking about that. I almost killed you, and when I thought you were gone...I felt so empty inside, like my heart had been torn out." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "I've never adequately made up to you for that."

"It wasn't your fault," Trowa said, falling into their recurring argument. "I've told you not to obsess about that. Your kindness was what made you hurt so much, your kindness and love for others. And if you weren't so kind..."

"...I wouldn't have gone insane," Quatre all but moaned.

"...then you wouldn't be the Quatre I fell in love with," Trowa completed his thought. There was a stone bench nearby, so he steered the blonde boy to it and gently forced him to sit down. He sat down beside him and folded him up in his arms, holding him as the tears came. Quatre willingly sank into Trowa's hold, hiding his face in his boyfriend's familiar blue turtleneck while he cried quietly.

"I almost lost you," he whispered harshly.

"You will never lose me," Trowa promised. "I'll always be here."

"You forgive me too easily."

Trowa put his hand under Quatre's chin and tilted his head up so he could stare into those clear blue eyes. More tears spilled down as Quatre looked up at him. "You don't want me to forgive you? You want me to take some kind of payment from you?" He gave his lover no time to answer, instead stealing a quick, feathery kiss before Quatre could react. He withdrew after several seconds, then took another kiss, fingers intertwined in blonde hair so that he couldn't pull away. Quatre put one hand on Trowa's shoulder, intending only to remind his koi that he couldn't hold his breath as long as Trowa could. Not giving him any say in the matter, Trowa seized the slender wrist and pushed it back down, rendering it useless. Finally he released Quatre, who leaned against his muscular body, breathing deep.

"I tell you what," Trowa whispered in his ear, the sensation making Quatre's spine tingle. "A few thousand more kisses like that, and we'll call it even."

"Mmm...I can do that..." Quatre put his head on Trowa's chest and drowsed in the summer heat. He felt his boyfriend adjusting his slighter body so that he was seated on his lap.

Trowa absent-mindedly caressed Quatre's cheek, stroking his eyelids and tracing the outline of his lips with one tickling finger. A cool breeze blew over them, making the smaller boy shudder at the sudden chill. It was still early enough that the wind was cool. Trowa wrapped himself around his lover, warming him up.

"We can go inside, if you want," he offered, but Quatre shook his head.

"I'm not that fragile," he said defensively. "I won't freeze."

Trowa smiled vaguely. "I wasn't thinking about the wind."

A blush rose up unbidden on Quatre's cheeks as he smiled. "Well, if you insist..."

Trowa stood up quickly, sweeping Quatre up into his arms. "I do. I've been dreaming constantly about you, and it's frustrating not being able to do anything about it."

"You think your absence has been any easier on me? I was starting to see your face everywhere I looked. I checked my messages every day, which reminds me," he said, his tone becoming stern, "why didn't you email me?"

"Our lines aren't all that secure."

Quatre pulled himself closer against Trowa as they ducked inside the house and dodged the household staff. "But Trowa, the war is over. We don't have to worry about enemies hacking into our system."

"Old habits die hard."

Quatre woke up later in the evening securely wrapped around Trowa's warm body. The blankets had fallen to his waist, but the air was still comfortably warm, even with the overhead fan softly whirring overhead. He gazed up at Trowa's face, enjoying the way his features relaxed in sleep. A little worried that he might startle his lover awake, he hesitantly brushed the stray hair from his face, revealing all of his face. He lay a tiny kiss on his cheek, then quietly left the bed, dressing rapidly. After such a long drive, Trowa needed his sleep no matter how much he said otherwise.

He glanced out of the open window and smiled. Violet hues mixed with pink and blue as the sun sank beneath the horizon, followed by a pretty crescent moon and a few bright stars. It was a gorgeous sight, but he still rose and closed the curtains on the window. Soon it would be dark enough to see inside their room clearly, and he didn't want anyone catching Trowa unawares.

"Quatre...?"

The Arabian smiled apologetically and went back to the bed, sitting down next to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Trowa gave him a languid smile and shook his head. "No...it's all right. I should get up anyway..."

"No," Quatre put his hands on Trowa's chest and kept him firmly pressed to the mattress. "Go back to sleep. You're still tired, you know that."

"I'm fine, really," Trowa protested, but he didn't push Quatre away. He raised one hand to his lover's cheek, gently stroking it. "After all, you're sitting next to me."

Quatre blushed and looked down at the floor with a smile.

Trowa's fingers ran down Quatre's shoulder to grasp his hand, rubbing the muscles there softly. His ability to make his companion blush always surprised him. "Come back to bed, koi."

Quatre signed, reluctantly leaving the temptation. "I need to check up on the staff and make sure dinner's started, and I need to see that the grounds are secure."

"Then let me come with you," Trowa started, but Quatre put his hand over Trowa's mouth. He blushed again when he felt a kiss placed in his palm.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I'll come back in a few hours, but you really need your rest. All right?"

With a tiny sigh, Trowa nodded. Quatre bent down and kissed him once more, then stood. "Sweet dreams."

Trowa smiled and settled back onto the pillow, closing his eyes. "I'll be dreaming of you."

Not caring that he was grinning like a fool, Quatre stared at his lover until Trowa had fallen back asleep. Once he was certain that he wasn't caught in his occasional nightmares, the Arabian left the room, closing the door behind him. He stretched, then started moving through the house, double-checking every door and window before arming the security system. Like Trowa said, old habits die hard.

Almost an hour later, assured that all was well on the estate, he sat back behind his office desk and began working through his papers. Endless forms, dozens of documents, things for him to sign...I hate being wealthy, he thought. He didn't dare say such things to Trowa. He knew his lover thought he was somewhat naive about certain things, even though he never came out and said it. But really, there was only one thing he considered his money good for, and that was doing things to make Trowa smile.

Quatre leaned back with a dreamy smile, remembering different "dates" he'd taken Trowa on. The trip to the amusement park, the chalet he'd rented in the mountains, the tropical vacation...

"Quatre, may I come in?" a familiar voice came from the door. "I need to speak with you."

The blonde looked up, mildly dismayed that Rashid had managed to get so close without him noticing. "Of course. What's the matter?"

Rashid remained in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "I'll be blunt. It's your boyfriend."

Quatre blinked in surprise. "I don't understand."

"It's dangerous for him to speed back and forth like this," he explained. "He should remain here, and run his business from his own office."

"Dangerous?" Quatre wondered. "You mean the way he rides that motorcycle? I know he can seem reckless, but believe me, he's the best driver I've ever seen."

Rashid shook his head. "No, Master. What I mean is, he constantly leaves himself open to attack either with that circus of his, or simply by isolating himself on that empty stretch of road."

"Rashid, the war is over--" Quatre started to argue, but the other man held his hand up, interrupting him.

"There are many other threats beside those from an enemy military. Simply because we are at peace does not mean we can lower our guard." Rashid sighed and stood straight. "Master, you're trusting nature is commendable, but I think sometimes you are too kind. We can never be too careful."

Quatre sighed sadly. "You sound just like Trowa..."

The taller man smirked. "Would it be so terrible to have him here all the time, instead of rushing about every few weeks?"

Once again, the dreamy smile reappeared on Quatre's face. "Oh...that would be...wonderful..."

Rashid chuckled and left the young master to his private musings, knowing anything else he said now would only go unheard. Quatre didn't even notice as he left, instead staring at the notepad on his desk. Absentmindedly he picked up a pen and began to doodle little hearts across the page.

"Quatre?" a soft voice filled the room.

He looked up in surprise and smiled. "Trowa...why aren't you in bed?"

Trowa, back in his normal clothes, stepped close and put his arms around him, staring at the page before him. "It's been two hours, plenty of time for a nap."

"Two hours?" Quatre gasped, staring at the notepad. It was absolutely covered in little hearts, some shaded in, some inside other hearts, with Trowa's name written several times around the edge. "I didn't even notice."

Trowa smiled and kissed his cheek. "Seems like you lost track of time. Dinner's served. Hungry?"

Quatre nodded and returned his kiss, eagerly devouring his mouth. "Mm-hmm...but not for food..." He allowed Trowa to help him up, then turned as a yawn forced its way out of him.

His boyfriend's smile broadened as he swept him up into his arms, cradling him comfortably. "Is my angel tired?"

"Your angel thinks he shouldn't have to wake up so early," Quatre mumbled into Trowa's shirt. "Maybe you should stay and do all your business here...you're so warm..."

Trowa nuzzled the precious creature in his arms as he carried him downstairs. "Maybe," he whispered back.