by Anne Olsen
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.
Thanks: To Bast and Hex for beta reading. Also to Anon, Windsor and Jessica for their support and fic stalk...er...encouragement.
Trowa lowered the wooden flute from his lips and smiled. He adjusted the blanket around his sleeping husband and placed the journal Quatre had been reading on the table with his flute. Quatre stirred but didn't wake.
Sleep was becoming increasingly difficult the larger Quatre became; it was impossible to get comfortable with one baby jammed under his breastbone and the other having taken permanent residence over his bladder. Although Quatre didn't complain, Trowa knew he had constant backache and heartburn. It had been a relief for both of them once the morning sickness had passed. Every time Quatre had gotten a whiff of chicory in those early months both of them had felt ill, much to Duo's amusement.
Although Duo had a way of getting on Trowa's nerves at times with his incessant questions – all in the name of research of course – the three of them had formed a close friendship over the past six months. Duo had also been able to convince Quatre to gradually hand the day to day running of his clinic over to him as his energy levels began to drop. Although Trowa had been reassured that it was perfectly normal for Quatre to become increasingly tired as his body focussed its energies on supplying for the needs of their growing unborn children, he found it difficult to hide his concern.
"Trowa?" Quatre's eyes opened and he yawned.
"I thought you were asleep," Trowa bent to give him a kiss.
"I was but our children had other ideas," Quatre sighed, placing one of Trowa's hands on his stomach. "I'm sure they're practising acrobatics in there."
Trowa laughed. "It means they're healthy and active." He winced suddenly at the pain in his lower back. "Was that you or me?"
"Me. Or rather them." Quatre placed his hand over Trowa's. "Do you ever regret the fact that you're married to someone who isn't human? That your children won't be human?"
"Cat," Trowa told him, "I told Dorothy that it didn't matter, and it still doesn't." He squeezed Quatre's hand. "I know our children are fully Solitaire, that there's no part of me in their physical makeup," Trowa placed a finger on Quatre's lips, "but they were created by an act of love. By our act of love - they're our children." He paused. "Besides I think the fact I've shared your morning sickness, back-pain, heartburn, and mood swings rather confirms that."
"Perhaps it's Duo we should feel more sorry for." Quatre chuckled. "We haven't been the best of company at times."
"Did I hear my name?" A familiar voice broke into their conversation as Duo poked his head into the room. "Sorry for interrupting, but I'm going out for a while. I have some house calls to make. Is there anything you'd like me to get for you at the market?" He grinned. "And I know there are several people wanting updates on Quatre."
"If you could bring back some dried ground ginger, I'd appreciate it," Quatre answered. "I used the last of it this morning, and this heartburn is getting worse. I don't think the boys are going to wait much longer. They're getting restless."
Quatre was convinced he was carrying two boys and Trowa hadn't argued with him. Although his husband claimed that he didn't possess any other magical talents apart from empathy and apportation [1], his 'feelings' about such things were seldom wrong.
"Just make sure they wait until I get back before they try anything," Duo frowned. "I don't have to go. I mean if you're going to need me…"
"I'm sure Tariq and Aurele will manage to come into the world without Uncle Duo's help if they have to," Trowa told him. "Quatre and I will be fine. Now go. You don't want to keep your patients waiting."
"But I'm supposed to be Quatre's midwife," Duo protested. "I can't deliver the babies if I'm not here."
"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back," Trowa said. "Goodbye, Duo."
Duo's frown turned into a cheeky grin. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise. If you and Quatre want to get rid of me you should have just said so."
"I just did," Trowa reminded him.
"Goodbye, Duo," echoed Quatre, pulling Trowa down to give him a passionate kiss. "Now where were we before we were interrupted? I do believe you were about to tell me about this new position we could use to…"
"I've already heard far more about your sex life than I need to. I'll be back later. Don't start without me." Realising what he'd just said, Duo turned bright red. "I think I'll go now." He gave Quatre a pointed look and left the room.
Quatre laughed and waved goodbye. "For someone so interested in mating rituals and procreation, he embarrasses easily."
"And you enjoy embarrassing him just a little too much," Trowa returned the kiss. After a few not so gentle hints had failed to shift Duo's focus away from his fascination with Quatre and onto his studies as a healer, Quatre had opted for a slightly different approach. Trowa had been more than happy to follow his husband's lead, which in turn had made Quatre even more enthusiastic to implement it at every opportunity.
"Hmm," Quatre replied through the kiss, before sighing and breaking it. "I'm sorry, I feel too uncomfortable to do anything tonight. I want to but…"
"It's all right," Trowa reassured him. "I'm quite happy just to sit here and talk if you'd like."
"I'd like that." Quatre paused and absently rubbed his back. "I wish…" He shook his head and sighed.
"Wish what?" Trowa climbed onto the bed, eased Quatre forward and began to massage his lower back. "Better?" he asked.
"Hmm," confirmed Quatre, "much better, thank you." He hesitated again before speaking. "I wish I knew more about myself, about my kind." Quatre leaned back to rest his head against Trowa's shoulder. Trowa stopped his ministrations and stroked Quatre's hair. "I don't know what to tell our children, Trowa, and reading the journal Duo found has only served to reinforce the realisation that there's so little I do know or remember about my family."
"Duo doesn't know as much as he'd like us to think, either," Trowa tried to reassure Quatre. "We have to move forward to build a future instead of regretting the past." He brought his hand down to rest on Quatre's stomach and smiled as the outline of a tiny foot kicked him. "We're a family now, Cat. There'll be new memories to replace the ones you've lost."
Quatre's next words were spoken in a choked whisper. "I don't know why I was abandoned. Promise me that whatever happens, our children will grow up with at least one of us there for them until they are old enough to understand."
"I don't have any intention of abandoning either you or our children." Trowa said. "I thought we'd discussed this. I love you. I love our children." He stopped. "You're not having doubts again about trusting me, are you?"
"No," Quatre interlaced Trowa's fingers in his own. "I made a mistake in not trusting you before, I…I'm the one who should be asking you about trusting me." He smiled ruefully. "I've looked over my shoulder and kept what I am hidden for so long, even now it's something I have to consciously remember not to do. I do trust you, Trowa, but it's difficult to go against my instincts. I relaxed once before, and it nearly cost me my freedom. It could have cost me my life."
"We're in this together," Trowa said. "I don't expect you not to look over your shoulder in public; it's too dangerous not to. But you don't have to keep watch alone."
"I still can't believe how the villagers supported us once they found out the truth," Quatre shook his head. "I lied to them, the same way I'd lied to you."
"You've saved a lot of lives, Cat," Trowa reminded him. Although they'd been suspicious of Quatre when he'd first arrived, he'd won over their trust and friendship with his good humour, gentleness and caring, even before he and Trowa fallen in love and later announced their intention to marry. "People don't forget that. I know you were worried about telling them but we didn't have a choice."
"I know. Even though the pregnancy only lasts six months I wasn't expecting to show so early." Quatre shifted against Trowa in an attempt to get comfortable. "I don't know how human women cope with nine months, I want them out NOW." He muttered something under his breath.
"It's all right," Trowa stroked Quatre's cheek. "I remember Cathy saying the same thing when she was pregnant."
"Cathy's been very good to us. Telling her first was the right thing to do."
Trowa smiled as he remembered his sister's reaction. "She can be a bit over-protective towards those she cares about." After she'd recovered from the shock, Cathy had made it clear that if anyone came after Quatre again, or the children, they'd have her to deal with, as would any villagers who voiced their opposition.
"And of course you're nothing like that at all, are you?" After they'd rescued Quatre from Dorothy and Tsuberov, Trowa hadn't wanted to let him out of his sight and had stayed by his side constantly. After the first week, Quatre had accused Trowa of being over-protective and informed him of his need for personal space.
There was a moment's silence between them until Quatre finally spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I know you were just showing your concern."
"Yes," Trowa said, gently. "I was. I am. I nearly lost you once, the idea of it happening again scares me." The fact that the further the pregnancy advanced and Quatre grew less able to fend off possible attackers, the stronger the empathic bond between them became had finally convinced Trowa that he didn't need to be with Quatre all the time to reassure himself that he was safe.
"Once I've had the boys, my other abilities will hopefully return, along with my figure. I wasn't able to show you them before, but now…" Quatre sighed. "Not being able to defend myself isn't a situation I'm particularly happy about."
"Well, yes," Trowa agreed, his mouth twitching. "The only advantage you have at present is your size. You'd have to sit on them."
Quatre poked out his tongue. "And here was I thinking you liked my new improved size for other reasons." He grinned. "If I could find some energy we could try and find yet another interesting position to get around my stomach. All in the name of research for Duo of course."
"Of course," Trowa rolled his eyes.
"Trowa?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Quatre attempted to pull himself into a sitting position, and Trowa eased himself out from behind him so that he could help.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Maybe a bit restless," Quatre smiled at him as Trowa bent to slip on his shoes and tie them. It had been several weeks since he'd be able to see past his stomach. "Thank you. I'm looking forward to being able to do that for myself again."
Trowa rose to his feet and held out his hand. Once Quatre had a firm hold he pulled him from the bed, and into an embrace. "Let's enjoy some time together while we still can," he suggested.
"I'd like that," Quatre said. He caressed Trowa's cheek. "I love you, Trowa Barton. You're a good man and I couldn't wish for a better person to share my life with."
"I love you too," Trowa shifted his arm to around what was left of Quatre's waist and together they headed out into the bright sunshine.
Upon reaching the front gate, Quatre stopped and laid a hand on his stomach. He gasped and Trowa felt another twinge of the pain in his lower back he'd felt earlier. "Do you want to go back?" he asked Quatre.
Quatre shook his head and smiled, his hair golden against the rays of the sun. "No going back." He glanced down at his stomach and placed Trowa's hand over his. "We have a future to build…"
[1] Apportation is a subspecies of teleportation. In this universe it is closely linked to telekinesis – the ability to move objects by the power of the mind.
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