Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, its characters,
its quotations, or its plotlines. They belong to the
Sotsu Agency who owns their trademark, Bandai who
licenses their use, and, of course, the guy who
created them. I am neither receiving payment for this
work, nor will I accept any. No copyright infringement
Rating: anyone who isn't anti-yaoi
Warnings: third person limited, Trowa POV, a little
angsty, a little sappy, a little wok-y
Notes: I wasn't going to write this one, either. It
was done. Two short shorts. But someone pointed out
that Quatre didn't get to say anything even though
he's a major player and please let's have a happy
ending for Trowa. So, here we are. Again. I'm still a
dork. This is a sequel to the sequel. I don't really
know what's up with me and the wok thing.
On a Park Bench - Part 3
Trowa dropped onto the center of the park bench and
spread his arms along the back. He sighed, letting the
heaviness of the day slip away, and watched the
wildlife rehabilitation park's newest resident limp
hesitantly from her cave to a sunning rock. The white
Bengal carefully pulled herself onto the rock, turned
the requisite three times, then flopped down just as
"Doctor Livingstone, I presume?"
Trowa tilted his head to look up at Quatre, then
"I told Wufei you'd be here. He's upset. He wanted to
see you at commencement, Trowa Barton, zoologist."
Quatre sat next to him, on the left, and cuddled a
shoulder under his arm.
Trowa turned his head and took a deep breath of
blonde, flyaway hair. "That's Trowa Barton, zoologist
Magna cum Laude."
The Bengal yawned, licking at her lips, and lounged
with as supercilious a smirk as he'd ever seen on an
animal. He thought about suggesting she be named
Quatre gestured toward the tiger. "Any word from Dr.
Trowa sighed, the corners of his mouth tugging down.
He wrapped an arm around Quatre and hugged him
tighter. The tiger's tail curled and uncurled. "Marta
says she'll be here permanently. The break went into
the joint and it's doubtful we can rehabilitate it
enough for her to survive in the wild."
With his cheek against the top of Quatre's head, Trowa
felt a perfect kinship with the tiger on the rock.
He rubbed his face against Quatre, just a little.
"Are you happy? With us?"
"Lately, it feels like you've been distracted. Wufei
said he caught you fondling that stupid wok Heero gave
you last Christmas." Quatre snuggled in deeper, hugged
him just a bit tighter. "Are you thinking of leaving?"
Trowa blinked. Leaving?
"I won't let you, Trowa."
Trowa wrapped his arms around Quatre and snuggled
right back. He smiled comfortably. "I'm not leaving. I
"I remember, do you?"
He slipped a finger under Quatre's chin and tilted his
head up. "I promised to talk to you and listen before
I leave, which I'm not so I haven't."
"That's try to leave."
Trowa smirked. "Going to kidnap me?"
Quatre leered. "You'll make a handsome love slave."
"Aren't I already?"
Wufei leaned over the back of the bench and kissed
them both on the cheek. "Not today, Trowa. It's your
day. Even if you did have the diploma mailed to you."
Quatre nodded, tugging on Wufei's hair. "Exactly. It's
Wufei's turn to be the love slave."
Wufei grunted, then helped Quatre sandwich Trowa on
the bench. "Are you missing your woks? Quatre could
always quit working for Iria and open a wok
manufacturing business here."
Quatre leaned around Trowa to fix Wufei with a dirty
glare. "I like the love slave idea better."
"I'm not missing the factory." Trowa frowned and
rubbed his wrists. "At all."
Wufei arched an eyebrow. "Then what have you been
Trowa swallowed, though the lump in his throat didn't
move. "I haven't been brooding."
"Trowa," Wufei said in that you-better-confess tone of
Trowa swallowed again and pulled the box from his
pocket before he could talk himself out of it again.
"I have something for you. Both of you."
His hand stalled, hidden between Wufei's thigh and his
hip. Everything inside of him was screaming that this
was stupid, it was bad, that everything was just fine
the way it was and he would only be making it worse.
Quatre slipped a hand under Trowa's shirt, making him
jerk, then began a slow petting through the fine hairs
on his abdomen.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Trowa plopped the hand with
the box in his own lap, then forced his fist to
unclench before he crushed the box. It took two tries
to pry it open with the shaking fingers of his other
"Trowa...." Wufei breathed along the curve of Trowa's
neck. Sword-calloused fingers pushed the lid of the
box off completely, pitching it to the ground.
"You know that wok Heero bought me for Christmas? He
says it came from my assembly line." Trowa shrugged
and rubbed his thumb over one of the charcoal colored
rings in the box and then the other. "Probably not."
Quatre started choking. He slumped over his own knees,
a hand on the ground.
Trowa dropped the box, barely noting that Wufei caught
it, and grabbed Quatre's shoulders. "Quatre?"
The choking became snorts. Quatre finally hit the
ground and rolled onto his back. His red-faced
snorting rolled into laughter that shook his entire
Trowa shared a look with Wufei, his eyebrow arching.
"I think I'm insulted."
Quatre slapped Trowa's knee, then waved his left hand
imperiously in the air. "Put it on me. My ring. My
anodized aluminum ring. I want it."
Wufei brought the box up to his face and squinted at
the rings. After a moment, he shoved the box into
Trowa's lap and stuck his left hand out. "I want mine,
Trowa gusted out a disgruntled sigh that he didn't
mean. "You know these are wedding rings, right?"
Quatre's hand jiggled a distinct command, the laughter
tapering off into hiccups. Wufei harrumphed. "It means
you won't leave us. Ring. Now."
Trowa smiled, just a little, behind his hair and slid
the smaller ring onto Wufei and the bigger one onto
Quatre held his hand up, fingers splayed, and admired
it. "Iria's going to kill you, you know. I can't
believe you had our wedding bands made out of a wok."
"I had them engraved." Trowa leaned back in the bench
and watched the Bengal stare at them with narrow-eyed
interest. He couldn't stop the smile from spreading.
"You are my home."