Author: Merula
Pairings: 3x4
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Yaoi, post-war, angst
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
Hidden Part 1
Trowa leaned back in his chair and reread the email. He'd almost known what to expect when he saw Une's email in his inbox- things had been getting bad and he'd been expecting a note asking for his time. Une wasn't asking, she was outright ordering, but Trowa couldn't be upset with her. He'd been following the news after all.
Relena and Quatre had been the targets of a few assassination attempts, most likely because of the latest legislation that they'd managed to push through for the colonies, but Une wasn't committing herself to that explanation. She needed his help not only as another guard, but also because someone might be holding a grudge from the war and she wanted all the pilots where she could see them. So he was being called in to watch Quatre.
That was the part that made him pause. Why wasn't she assigning him to Relena? That's where the other three were after all. It would make things less awkward... and it wasn't like Quatre didn't have his own bodyguards after all. They'd already thwarted two of the attacks- why did they need him? One extra bodyguard- former pilot or not- wasn't going to make that much difference.
Then again, it was only an awkward situation in his mind. It wasn't like he'd ever told Quatre how he felt, wasn't like he'd been turned down or dumped. During the war they'd worked well together.
Which was probably why he'd been assigned to Quatre- not to mention that Wufei had more than likely called Heero in to help him with Relena- and where Heero went, so did Duo.
Plus Une was covering her bases- she couldn't assign all the ex-pilots to the Vice-minister and none to the head of Winner Industries.
Leaning forward he sent a quick positive reply. He'd be on his way as soon as possible. Une's reply was so fast that he suspected her of hovering over the keyboard. The situation must be worse than he feared.
That view was only confirmed when an email from Quatre appeared a moment later, thanking him for taking the assignment and telling him that there would be one of Winner Industries shuttles waiting for him at the spaceport. Safer, Quatre had noted, and Trowa agreed.
Sighing, he got to his feet and went to tell his sister that he was taking on a special assignment for the Preventers again. Cathy would be less than thrilled, but she'd understand, she'd been following the news too.
Less than an hour later he was packed and at the spaceport, the promised shuttle ready and waiting.
Once on board, after having been courteously greeted by Quatre's staff, Trowa leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He hadn't had to do this for a long time- most of his contact with Quatre over the last year or so had been limited to emails- nothing in person. But now he was going to be spending hours in Quatre's company... and he knew what Quatre was capable of picking up on.
He had to block his feelings out, had to hide them, bury them deep in his own mind.
Restraint. Caution. Distrust. Indifference. The feelings of another life.
He didn't love Quatre. He didn't need him. He didn't desire him. He hadn't hungered after him, hadn't spent sleepless night longing for him.
The lies hurt at first. They always did. But they were his protection. They were his shields. Without them Quatre would know... and then he'd lose even the friendship between them...
Hardening his heart, perfecting his mask, he continued his work.
Rashid was waiting for him when he stepped off the shuttle. "Mr. Barton."
"Trowa," he corrected with a smile. "Where are we headed?"
"Master Winner said to take you to the house- let you get settled in-"
"My job is to protect him. I'd rather start right away. Where is he?"
Rashid rolled his eyes and waved him towards a waiting car. "The office. I am supposed to pick him up after I dropped you off. I know, I know," he said even as Trowa opened his mouth. "We tried to get him to a safe place. He won't hear of it. Keeps insisting that he has to work-"
Trowa sighed. "Tell me that they at least got Relena someplace safe?"
"Yes. Chang was adamant."
"We'll have to have him talk to Quatre."
"He already did. Several times." Rashid shook his head as they slid into the car. "I'm hoping you're more persuasive."
"I'll try to be. Any new information?"
"Nothing. Preventers are investigating." Rashid tapped the small reader on the seat beside him. "Here's what we have so far- as well as details on the two attempts that weren't made known to the public."
Trowa nodded and picked up the reader. By the time they reached Quatre's office building, he was nearly finished- and very worried. "Professionals," he said to Rashid as he put the reader down.
"So we guessed."
"At least he's taking some precautions," Trowa muttered as they pulled into the underground parking lot, right beside the elevators. Two of the Magunacs were already there beside the doors, waiting.
Getting out of the car, Trowa nodded to the two and stood beside the back door, one hand on the handle.
Focus, he reminded himself as the elevator chimed. Just an old friend. One of your best. But just a friend.
The doors slid open and Quatre stepped out, surrounded by several more Magunacs and a young woman with an organizer in her hand. "Really, Mr. Winner," she was saying as she tapped away on the screen. "There is nothing so pressing that it can't be rescheduled as a virtual-" Quatre turned a glare on her, but she persisted. "Commander Une suggested the change- it would be better if you were out of danger-"
"It would be better for my business associates not to see me as someone who runs away from a challenge," Quatre replied taking the organizer from her hands.
"Of course not. They'll simply see you as someone who doesn't protect his assets." Trowa interrupted smoothly as he opened the door to the car. The young woman shot him a grateful glance and Quatre's eyes widened slightly. "Your car, Mr. Winner."
"You were supposed to be at the house, Mr. Barton."
"But you're here, Mr. Winner, and my job is to look after you." He looked at the assistant. "I would be very grateful if you would change those meetings."
The assistant cleared her throat, a smile dancing around her lips. "I'll get right to work, Mr. Barton," she said and headed back towards the elevators.
Trowa saw Quatre's eyes narrow and knew the other pilot was about to give him hell.
Be angry. Help me keep my distance...
Much to his surprise, Quatre simply huffed and tossed his briefcase into the car. "And here I was about to say it was good to see you."
"Maybe after the body guarding job is over," Rashid consoled from his place on the other side of the car. "Right now, he's working for Une after all."
"I wouldn't think she was scarier than me," Quatre frowned.
"She signs my paycheck," Trowa reminded him and wiggled the door. "In please."
Quatre rolled his eyes and got into the car. "I can sign yours- I told you I'd always have a job for you."
"But your guards don't have a uniform," Trowa said and shut the door. Rashid shot him a glance over the roof.
"Great. Now he's going to be thinking about it."
"How bad could it be?" Trowa countered.
"If it's pink, you're a dead man."
TBC...
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