Chapter 21: More Players on the Stage

"She was right. Thought you'd be here." The low, droll voice muffled through the space suit helmet was the first sound coming to Duo Maxwell's ears for countless hours now. That is, beyond the little voice in his own head. This star-crossed orphan found his own brand of sanity (aka: insanity) in his incessant chatter to himself. His humor was infamous---and sometimes the only thing that kept Duo Maxwell alive. That--and Providence watching over his haphazard soul.

"Hey! Long time no see!" A pleasant, easy going sound was so happy-go-lucky that Sally Po couldn't stay angry at it for long.

Who could? Duo Maxwell is Duo Maxwell. He's one of a kind.

And that was the kind, right now, that she needed.

"I have a job for you if you're interested." Sally says, swooping down to where Duo was seated at the top of the Colony's outer sphere. He was, just as his little girlfriend had predicted, stargazing. He found the peace and tranquillity his tormented soul longed for in the infinite darkness of space and blinding glimmers of lights that made their paths through it.

Each star was on it's own orbit, predestined from when it was born, to when it burns out, by it's Maker. And this boy liked to watch them go, for he was yet another one of them. A lone star, blazing on his way to eternity...

Might as well enjoy the ride as I go, huh?

"He he he. Not if it's gonna be a pain." Duo teases in that drawling cowboy like voice of his. But Sally could see the humor of the adventure to come was already dancing in his big, indigo eyes that never once left the starscape they were trained upon.

"Believe me," Sally Po knew that was already this silly boy's way of sayhing "yes." If not in his teasing voice, then in his bright eyes that never seemed to dim, even when, in all the world around him, there was such darkness. Duo Maxwell had a gleaming light that came from within. "You'll like the reward."

Sally glimpses that indefinable light in his eyes again when the suited boy's eyes finally meet hers. Fun, goodness and adventure beamed from his brighter-than-the-sun smiling face. As the curtain of the stars glisten behind him with a holy light, passing the moon, as they gaze upon the Earth...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Circus.

The banner sign posted upon the big top's entrance was as unpalatable as the soup Wufei was forced into eating.

Hey, lunchtime is lunchtime. I do what my stomach demands of me.

And it was just as simple as the girl who made the lunch for them.

"It's almost time for Trowa's act! Where is that boy! Pay attention!" Manager's voice could be heard on his bullhorn from his command base in the back of the big top tent where the boxes and crates piled up so often served as his office and conference room. As he ordered his makeshift troupe of performers and stage hands about, Manager was especially short tempered. His hectic scheduling of act after act, and getting them together, caused the older man to pull his hair out sometimes.

"You'd better get ready, Trowa, before Manager has a nervous breakdown." Cathrine (rushing to Trowa's side when Quatre and Wufei suddenly appeared at his trailer's door) had kindly offered to make them some of her homemade soup for lunch. Poor unknowing saps.

And now she gives the acrobat a small smile as she ladles out more soup into poor Quatre's already overflowing bowl. Wordlessly, Trowa does as commanded, leaving with a nod at her and then, a pair of resigned eyes at his fellow Gundam pilots. It told them that he was fully prepared to do what they had asked of him.

"Ummm....ummm...Miss Cathrine?" Quatre's voice doesn't quite break through the bouncing brown curled girl's turned head. She was so entranced with the man who was her circus partner walking away towards the camp.

"Miss Cathrine?" Quatre persists. "I think--I think I already have enough soup in my bowl. Thank you." Quatre says with a little nervous giggle as the brownish/tannish concoction Cathrine was spooning from her pot into his bowl begins to overfill the chipped piece of earthenware.

And down the crate they were using as a table, dripping onto his pants, that were, up to now, kept spotless.

Cathrine returns from her musing with a splattering start. "Oh dear! I'm sorry, Quatre! I'm so so sorry!" She grabs an already soaking towel off the table (she spilt the soup many times already, can you tell?) and begins dabbing and rubbing at the soup on Quatre's beleaguered legs and pants as if he were no more than a baby doll to her.

"I'm...fine. It's all right, Miss Cathrine." Quatre finishes the rest of the mopping up on his own. The scalding hot soup burns had already cooled as he smiles up at his ditzy hostess.

"Oh, Quatre! I ruined your pants! Maybe you'd like to borrow a pair from Trowa! I can go get a pair from his trailer." Cathrine offers kindheartedly, not thinking.

"No, that's all right. I probably wouldn't fit in them. I'm not quite Trowa's size." Quatre says with a considerate giggle.

Wufei rolls his eyes at this entire episode. Hmm, women....

"Oh, you might! If you roll up the pants legs a lot, because you're quite a bit shorter than Tro...wa...."

Oh, darn! I did it again! I really put my foot in my mouth this time!

Cathrine realizes a moment too late what she just said--that she had actually called the poor, sweet boy "short" and right to his face too!

"Oh, gracious me!" Her graceful hand flies to her naughty mouth in shame.

"No, thank you, just the same." With a pleasant smile still, Quatre R. Winner was never one to lose his composure. He worked hard at it sometimes and was quite accustomed to being referred to as short. Though usually no one ever dared called the billionaire playboy "short" by any means.

Besides, my doctor says I'm about to have a growth spurt. But...it doesn't really matter...unless of course, it matters to...her...

Quatre feels the blush crawling up his collar he had manfully suppressed before at Cathrine's babying fondling at the thought of the blonde vixen who haunted his every dream...

"All right. Let's go." Trowa Barton's calm, commanding voice enters the sticky situation. Both Cathrine and Quatre jump up. One was embarrassed at her poor treatment of Trowa's guests, the other just as embarrassed and sure glad to be out of here soon.

"Tro-trowa? Where are you going?" Cathrine stutters on the words. She knew what was coming next and she didn't want to hear it.

"I've already spoken with Manager, Cathrine. People's lives are in danger. Good, innocent people. Please try to understand. They need me." Trowa goes over to Cathrine, taking her now trembling shoulders in both his strong hands, giving her his strength as, for a brief moment, their eyes lock.

"I'll be back." Trowa wipes the tear that was already forming in Cathrine's eye.

"Promise?" Cathrine almost sniffles out the whisper, looking up into his beautiful face.

"I promise." Trowa answers. His heart screamed that he wanted to kiss her tender, trembling lips to give her the comfort they needed. But his considerate mind prevails over his heart. He wasn't so certain what Cathrine wanted him to be to her after their last kiss--their first--not so long ago on the beach front. But whatever that was, Trowa only knew that he wanted to be with her--no matter what it meant. And no mission nor danger would deter him from that forever where he could be beside his delicate beauty.

So, instead he gives her hands a final, reassuring squeeze and follows Quatre's lead.

I wonder why he's so itchy to get going?

Wufei was right behind the two.

Hey! Don't leave me here with this sniveling woman!

And he even manages to throw a quip at her, now feeling a safe distance away.

"And thank you so much for the thoroughly unpalatable soup." The Chinese man smirks as the group walks away, even as Cathrine gets up her ire, yelling at the pair who had just kidnapped and corrupted her obedient Trowa.

"Hey! If anything happens to my Trowa, I'll feed you that soup again!!!!!" She cries out in anger with her only weapon in response to Wufei's snide comment at her cooking.

Wufei shakes his head at the weakling creature, but Trowa smiles.

"Are you sure about this?" Wufei asks. He for one didn't pay any heed to anything any woman would scream out at him--but then again, he didn't have to come home to her wrath either.

"Don't worry." Trowa says, his exposed muscular arms tensing as he walks by the animal cages. "She's just being protective of me." The quiet, tall man concludes. He didn't always understand his relationship with Cathrine. She so often wanted to play sister/mother to the lost orphan boy, but there was one thing he did know.

She cared for him. And was the first, and only one in his entire lonely, empty life to do so. Freely, unselfishly, completely. And this No-Name would always call where ever she was--his home.

"There's only ten hours until their deadline. Let's hurry!" Quatre takes the lead out towards the paved road of a Gundam pilot's destiny--the road to being a hero....once again...