Disclaimers:  I still don’t own anything.

Notes:  No real notes.

Desires and Deceptions
Part 17

Abdul paced the hallway outside of Quatre’s bedroom.  He was worried, couldn’t help but fret over the young man’s health.  
Master Quatre was more than just a fellow pilot and soldier to Abdul and the other Maguanac.  He was family, a younger brother
to some, a son to others.  It didn’t matter that they weren’t related by blood.

He had been pacing there for over an hour, not knowing what else to do.  There wasn’t really anything he could do to help the
young man, nothing he could think of to ease his suffering in even a small way.  So he paced, trying to come up with some
reason to go in and check on him without making it too obvious.  Finally, he stopped pacing and reached out to grasp the

“Abdul, what are you doing?”  Rasid’s booming voice called out, nearly echoing through the hallway.

Abdul jumped, startled, his hand falling away from the doorknob.  “I, I was just going to check on Master Quatre.”  He

“Master Quatre is sleeping by now.  It would not do his health any good to be disturbed.”  Rasid replied, lowering his voice.

“I understand.”  Abdul sighed, bowing his head.  “I will not disturb him.”

“Do not worry for Master Quatre.  Mr. Chang is with him now.  And he will undoubtedly take very good care of the young
Master.”  Rasid said, laying one of his large hands on Abdul’s shoulder.

“But I can’t help it.  He is family.”  

Rasid nodded in understanding.  “Then I guess I will have to order you to do something else.  Mr. Maxwell has been missing for
a few days, and as I understand it the other young men are quite worried about him.  You might as well assist in their searches.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Abdul said, turning on his heel and hastily walking away from Rasid.  He quickly made his way downstairs and to
the nearest phone.

He flipped open a phonebook that rested on the table beside the phone.  Then Abdul picked up the phone and dialed the number
for the first hospital listed.  He gave a general description of Duo, asking if he’d been seen or if he had been admitted as a patient
or worse to the morgue.  

For each hospital he called, the answer came back negatively.  It was starting to wear down Abdul’s hopes of finding the long-
haired young man.  He sighed, looking down at the phonebook once again.  He grinned at the name he saw . . . Khushrenada
Memorial Hospital . . . an honor for a deceased war hero.  

Abdul reached out, ready to dial the number and once again ask if Duo had been admitted, when a loud commotion attracted his
attention.  He dropped the phone, quickly closing the book and hurried to see what the trouble was.  Upon reaching the front
door, he saw Trowa dragging some young woman into the house.  Looking more carefully at the girl, he saw that it was Miss

She was struggling to get out of Trowa’s grip.  Meanwhile, Trowa was glaring at her, looking like he would shoot daggers out
of his eyes at her if he could.  Both of them had a hand print on one of their cheeks, made by each other apparently.

“Let me go!”  Relena shouted, grabbing hold of the doorframe with her free hand, pulling against Trowa’s hold on her arm.

“What’s going on here?”  Rasid asked, as he too approached the unusual scene.

Trowa grabbed Relena’s other wrist and wrenched her hand free of the doorframe.  “Ah . . . Rasid!  Just the man I wanted to
see.”  He smirked slightly, holding both of her arms now.

“Master Trowa . . . what is Madame Dorlian doing here?”  Rasid asked, gesturing to the two of them.

“Well Rasid . . . wouldn’t you LOVE to get your hands on the person who drugged Quatre?”  Trowa asked, holding Relena still
even though she continued to struggle against him.

Rasid narrowed his gaze.  “Yes . . .”  He growled.

“Here she is.”  Trowa replied, pushing Relena forward.  Rasid caught her in his arms, looking down in apparent shock at the
young girl.

“What?”  Abdul gasped, not knowing whether to believe it or not.  “Miss Relena?”

Rasid gasped as well, struggling to get out a complete sentence.  “No . . . but . . . Master Quatre has always been her friend . . .
her ally!  How could she . . .?  Why?”  

Trowa sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before answering.  “So he wouldn’t alert us to what she was doing to Duo.  
She thought that he might sense something from her and interfere with her demented plans.”

Abdul looked over at Relena, then up at Rasid, shuddering at the glare he saw in the larger man’s eyes.  He was glad that he
wasn’t Relena at the moment, unsure of what Rasid would do to her now that he knew the girl had hurt Master Quatre.  And
Abdul truly wouldn’t care what happened to her, knowing that she deserved whatever punishment was dealt to her.

“If you two will excuse me . . . I want to go check on Quatre.”  Trowa said, nodding slightly before he walked away.

Rasid pushed Relena over to Abdul who caught her and held her tightly.  “Take Miss Relena to one of the empty rooms,
preferably one without a window.  And keep her under guard at all times.  I’ll decide a punishment for her at a later time.”

Abdul nodded.  He knew that Relena couldn’t be taken to the authorities.  Who would believe that the Vice Foreign Minister
would drug anyone?  Besides, Quatre and the other ex-Gundam pilots couldn’t expose themselves to the police.  Their positions
in the Preventers would be at stake if they did that.  Most of their work were undercover jobs.  And if the press got hold that
two of them had been drugged by Relena Dorlian, then they would all be in serious trouble.

“Come along, Miss Relena.”  Abdul said, nearly dragging the girl through the hallway to the nearest closet.  The girl was fighting
him the entire way, struggling to get out of his grasp.  Finally, he opened the closet door and just shoved her in, quickly closing
then locking the door behind her.  There, she should be secure in there, he thought to himself, ignoring the fact that she was
pounding on the door from the inside, yelling to be let out.


Wufei looked down at the blonde he embraced in his arms, frowning at the sound of a strangled whimper escaping Quatre’s
tempting lips.  Quatre’s pale face was drawn and tense, his brow furrowed as if he was in pain.  He shivered, his fingers digging
deeply into Wufei’s skin as he tightened his hold around the Chinese youth.

“No . . . Stop . . . Don’t . . .”  Quatre mumbled, the trembling of his body increasing as tears began to escape his tightly
clenched eyes.

“Sshh.”  Wufei hushed, running his one hand up and down Quatre’s side, his fingers reaching around to his back, as he tried to
calm the unconscious Arabian.  “It’s okay, Quatre.”

Quatre’s eyes snapped open and he jumped, apparently startled.  His arms immediately tightened around Wufei, clutching him as
if his life depended on it.  He buried his face against Wufei’s shoulder, shuddering.  “It was just a dream.”  He muttered,
seemingly to himself.

“Bad dream?”  Wufei asked, gently grasping Quatre’s shoulder.

“Yes.  I . . . I think it might have been more though.”  He whispered, looking up at Wufei.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently, my empathic abilities aren’t quite under my complete control yet.  I sensed a lot of anger . . . confusion . . . fear . .
. but I don’t think they were all from the same person.  There was a great deal of negativity and so much darkness.”  Quatre
said, shivering slightly.  The blonde laid his head back down, his arms remaining tightly wrapped around Wufei.

“It’s going to be all right.”  Wufei said, trying to keep his friend calm.  He lightly brushed his fingers through pale, blonde
strands of hair, marveling at how soft and silky it felt.

Wufei was dragged from his revelry by the sound of the door opening.  He turned, just in time to see Trowa step into the room
and close the door behind himself.  And it didn’t look as if Trowa was at all happy.  He stalked over to the bed, his every
movement seeping anger.  Wufei thought for sure that he had done the wrong thing by embracing Quatre.  Perhaps Trowa was
jealous of the contact between them, angry that Wufei was in bed with his young lover.

Trowa stepped over to the bed, slowly stretching his arm out to the pale blonde.  However, before Trowa’s fingers could touch
him, Quatre shrank away from him, his body trembling severely.  Quatre pulled himself as close to Wufei as he could, ducking
down slightly so that Wufei’s body partially blocked him from Trowa.  A strangled whimper filled with pain escaped Quatre’s
throat before he bit into his bottom lip.

Trowa hastily backed away from the bed, quickly pulling back his now shivering hand.  “Oh God, Quatre . . . I’m sorry.”  He
said, stumbling backwards.  “I should have waited until I calmed down before I came in here.”  He lowered his head shamefully,
his back hitting the door he had backed into.

“W-Who are you so angry at?  Why so much rage?”  Quatre asked, his voice wavering.

“Relena . . . I just brought Relena here.”  Trowa replied, never lifting his gaze.  He reached behind him for the doorknob.  “I’ll
just leave.  I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

“No!”  Quatre exclaimed, pulling himself away from Wufei slightly.  He turned to Wufei, giving him a pleading look.  “Please . . .
help me?”

Wufei nodded, understanding Quatre’s request.  He got out of bed, slipping on his shoes, then helping the blonde to stand also.  
Then they crossed the room to where Trowa stood, Wufei helping him the entire way.  As soon as they were close enough,
Wufei let go of Quatre, allowing him to stumble the remaining few steps to reach Trowa.

The Arabian slowly circled his arms around Trowa, holding him gently even as his own body trembled.  Trowa tentatively
returned the embrace, pulling Quatre even closer to his body.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”  Trowa whispered, placing a chaste
kiss to the top of Quatre’s head.

“I know you would never hurt me on purpose.”  Quatre replied.  “Don’t worry about me . . . I’ll be fine.”  He let out a
shuddered breath.  “Just find some way to calm yourself.  I don’t like to see you unhappy.”

A faint smile crept across Trowa’s features.  He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  “You smell nice.”  He sighed, bending
slightly and sweeping the blonde into his arms.

Quatre giggled, resting his head against Trowa’s chest as the taller young man carried him over to the bed.  “Wufei helped me
take a bath.”  Quatre said, blushing slightly, as Trowa tucked him back into bed.

“Oh he did, did he?”  Trowa replied, turning slightly to smirk at Wufei.

Before Wufei could say anything, Quatre gasped, his eyes widening.  “Trowa . . . your face . . . what happened?”  He asked,
lifting one hand to brush aside Trowa’s bangs.

Wufei stepped over so that he could see what Quatre was talking about.  He winced at the sight of the deep red hand print
covering one of Trowa’s cheeks.  That would turn into a nasty bruise soon.

“Relena . . .”  Trowa sighed.  “She didn’t appreciate it when I slapped her, so she retaliated.”

“I had no idea that she could hit that hard.”  Wufei commented.

“Why did you slap her?”  Quatre asked, carefully touching the tips of his fingers to the reddened skin.

Trowa smiled, grasping Quatre’s hand and pulling it away from his face.  “I couldn’t let her get away with insulting you, love.”  
He replied, then placed a tender kiss to the back of Quatre’s hand.

Wufei felt out of place.  Slowly, he began to back away, intending to leave the room.  He turned, grabbing the doorknob.  
However, before he could leave, Quatre called out to him.  “Wufei, wait!”

Wufei turned back, then watched as Quatre leaned over to whisper something to Trowa.  Trowa nodded to whatever Quatre
said, then turned his attention to Wufei.  “Quatre said you wanted to talk . . .”

“I simply stated that we needed to talk.  I can wait for a more appropriate time.”  Wufei responded.

“Wufei . . .”  Quatre began, but Wufei interrupted him, not truly needing to hear anymore.

“Fine . . . we can talk now.”  He sighed, returning to Quatre’s bedside.  He was having serious doubts as to whether this was a
good idea or not.

Trowa sat beside Quatre, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s shoulders, while Wufei sat on the edge of the bed, facing the
two of them.  “What do you want to talk about?”  Quatre asked.

Wufei swallowed nervously.  Perhaps Trowa would punch his lights out for what he was about to say.  He was doubting if he
should go through with it or not.  “I . . . uh . . . I recently decided to stop pretending and to let you two know how I felt.”  He
paused, clearing his throat.  Then he just let all the words fall from his mouth.  “I've been attracted to the two of you since the
war.  Recently . . . the attraction changed . . . deepened.  I slowly started to fall in love . . . with both of you.”  He blushed
slightly and looked away, wary of how they might react to his confession.

“What about Sally?  I thought the two of you were involved.”  Trowa said.

Wufei kept his gaze averted.  “I had only been deluding myself . . . I’ve been denying my feelings for a long time.  I was raised
to feel that these types of relationships were wrong, that I should carry on the clan, my family line.  Sally now understands my
feelings and we have parted ways amiably.”

“You were breaking up with her before you came in here earlier?”  Quatre asked.

Wufei nodded.  “Yes.”  He paused, rising to his feet and taking a single step away from the bed, keeping his back to the two he
loved.  “I will understand if you wish me to leave.  Threesomes rarely, if ever, work.”

“Wufei . . . I . . . I don’t know if it’ll work.”  Trowa said.  Wufei looked back momentarily to see Trowa and Quatre exchange
quick glances.

Quatre smiled a little.  “But . . . we’re willing to try.”

“You are not just saying that to spare my feelings are you?”  Wufei asked, narrowing his gaze as he turned back to the two that
rested on the bed.  “I do not need any false sympathy.”

Trowa chuckled.  “Still as proud as ever I see.”  He paused, smiling over at Quatre once, before he turned his attention back to
Wufei.  “I would be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive, Wufei.  For a long time now, ever since we shared that campfire
together, I had feelings for you.  Of course I ignored them at the time, telling myself there was no time for relationships during
the war.”

“And although I haven’t known you quite as long as Trowa has, I care for you.  Of course you should know that from earlier.  
Even if my emotions are out of control that does not make them any less real.”  Quatre said, smiling.  

Wufei nodded.

Quatre extended his hand to Wufei, waiting patiently until Wufei stepped forward and took hold of it.  “We make no promises,
but we will try.”  He said.

“That is all I ask.”  Wufei nodded, happy that they would at least try to make this work.

Quatre yawned, his weariness clearly written on his pale features.  Trowa turned to him, brushing a hand along the side of his
face.  “You feel warm.  Perhaps you should get some more rest.”  Trowa suggested.

“Okay.”  Quatre agreed, snuggling down into the bed, his arms snaking around Trowa’s waist as the taller youth laid down
beside him, his arms protectively wrapped around his slender frame.  

Wufei wasn’t altogether sure what to do, so he chose to quietly slip out of the room.  He wasn’t about to risk his newfound
relationship by pushing the two of them too far.  It wasn’t his place yet to sleep in their bed.  He had to wait until he was

“Where do you think you’re going?”  Trowa questioned, glaring slightly at Wufei.

“I was not sure I was welcome in your bed yet.”  Wufei replied, bowing slightly.  “I do not expect any more than the agreement
we have already come to.  I am content to wait for any outward signs of affections until the two of you are comfortable with
the relationship.”

“Don’t be so silly, Wufei.”  Quatre snickered.  “You are quite welcome.  Haven’t you already learned that I crave human contact
when I am ill?  The more I receive the faster I will recover.”

Trowa held out his hand.  “So it is not just for your benefit, but for Quatre’s as well.  Come along.”  Trowa said, becoming him
with a curl of his fingers.

Wufei smiled slightly, slowly climbing onto the bed and over to Quatre’s other side.  He reached around the pale blonde, moving
tentatively, unsure of how welcome he truly was.  Trowa grabbed his wrist, startling him slightly.  Wufei looked up to see
Trowa smile.  

“Relax.”  The tall youth said, pulling Wufei’s hand across Quatre’s body so that his hand lay on Trowa’s side as well.  Trowa
then slid his own arm over, reaching under Wufei’s arm and pulling the three of them tighter together, his hand at Wufei’s back.

Wufei looked down, watching as Quatre sighed at the contact, snuggling closer to Trowa as he reached a hand up to lay across
Wufei’s at Trowa’s side.  The blonde closed his eyes, a smile playing across his features.  Then Wufei looked over at Trowa,
observing for a moment as Trowa returned his gaze then settled down, his head resting beside Quatre’s and closed his eyes.  
Wufei smiled, finally happy for once in his life.  He closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake him as he laid his head against Quatre’s
back, hoping that their relationship would somehow work.


Heero stalked through Preventers HQ, ignoring the stares and comments that came his way.  He didn’t care if he knocked
someone down, didn’t care if anyone greeted him cheerfully either.  He just needed to get to the computer systems, had to use
them to aid his search for Duo.

Finally he stopped, as someone grasped his arm.  “Heero . . . What are you doing here?”  Lady Une asked, her hand firm on his
arm, holding him still in a strong grip.

“I have to find Duo.  And I need to use the computer network here.”  He replied, keeping his voice as calm as he possibly could.

“Fine.  Just don’t let anyone else know what you are doing.  Preventers aren’t supposed to be used for personal missions or
vendettas, Heero.”  Une said, removing her hand from his arm.

“This is no vendetta.  Duo is missing and it’s my fault.  I have to find him.”  Heero replied.  He turned away from her and hastily
departed, hearing her sigh and make a comment about understanding, while he walked down the hallway.  Heero ignored her,
not really caring if she understood him or not.

Heero quickly entered the computer lab and stepped over to the nearest vacant computer terminal.  He accessed the database,
searching idly through the new files that he had access to, not really paying attention, just checking for anything of importance,
an email from Duo, something to tell him where his lover had run off to.

He smirked, seeing that the hacker that had infected the mainframe with a virus a couple days ago had been caught.  Heero was
happy about that.  Now at least the bastard that had taken him away from Duo the night of the party was going to be punished.  
He quickly looked over the young man’s confession, noticing immediately that he claimed a young blonde-haired girl had paid
him a lot of money to hack in at the exact time that he did.  

“Damn you, Relena!”  He hissed, knowing for sure that this hacker was just another part of Relena’s twisted schemes, he just
had to be.  How else would she have ensured that Heero wouldn’t be at that party to ruin her plans?

Heero accessed the mainframe, typing away furiously to run a complete search of the area hospitals and police stations.  He
would find Duo, even if he had to search for years.  He smiled several hours later when the alarm beeped, indicating that the
searches had been completed.  However, that smile quickly faded, seeing the long list of possible John Does, and where many of
them were currently located.


Heero shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms, even though his body wasn’t all that cold.  It was just the fact that he
was standing in a morgue that was intensely upsetting to him.  A morgue . . . Duo could possibly be dead.  That thought caused
a new shudder to flow through his body.

He slowly stepped closer to the slab, and the sheet-covered body that lay motionless on top of it.  Long, chestnut colored hair
flowed from underneath the sheet, cascading over the edge of the slab to taunt Heero’s mind.  

“No . . . Please God, no.”  Heero murmured to himself, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he hoped this wasn’t the end of

“Are you ready?”  The morgue attendant asked, grabbing the edge of the sheet at the top of the head.

Heero gulped, his eyes catching sight of the long, wispy bangs that seemed so familiar to him.  Duo has bangs like that, he idly
thought, his mind reeling at the idea that Duo could be dead and lying motionless underneath a sheet.  

“Oh God . . . Please don’t let it be you, Duo.”  He whispered.  He nodded to the morgue attendant, ready to face this, his eyes
widening with every inch of the pale corpse that was uncovered.

To Be Continued . . .