Amanda and Triton Barton were a picturesque colony couple. Born and raised on L3, and living out their lives peacefully with two children and a pet cat, named Circus, after Triton's previous occupation as a circus performer. An acrobat. Trowa had inherited the man's lean, wiry build, but his mother's emerald eyes and soft, sandy brown hair... The style, however, was his own gravity defying feat.... Catherine was more like her father-- proud, outgoing and recklessly beautiful, but there was never a more down to earth, protect-my-brother type of girl on L3.... More so after the accident.

Thirteen cars, piled up on the Constellation Highway, going into L3's capital city. No one survived-- probably because a semi carrying liquid 02 was one thirteenth of the crash.... It leveled 10 blocks of the city, and shook the colony's structure all around.

Three months later the mess was cleaned up. The shock had almost died down. The bodies were slowly being recovered, and identified. Catherine was already making arrangements to move to Earth at the end of the year. They didn't have to wait for the Vid-Call...

Trowa walked to school again in the early morning fog, watching soft traffic and roaring school busses. Heero was stalking up his road as well. Trowa turned onto Lebanon Avenue at the same time, and was one step behind. He watched Heero's steps; solid. Firm. Confidant, and meaningful. Ugly yellow running shoes though....

*thump thump thump thumpthumpthumpthumpthump* Trowa hesitated in his step--

"Trowwwaaaa! Why didn't you wait for me?!" Duo wailed. "Man-- I had to run the whole way to get you." Surprisingly, however, the boy wasn't a bit winded. Unfortunately...

Heero never turned around, but he did speed up his stride. Trowa slowed down, hoping to lose Heero and to keep Duo's mind off of him--

"Hey Heero! Sorry for glomping you yesterday. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. Gonna sit with us at lunch today?" Duo's body contorted suddenly, and he began itching a far spot on his back. He looked ridiculous. Trowa tried to store that pose away for later... Maybe blackmail, he mused absently.

"Not if I have to sit by you," Heero growled suddenly. Trowa was shocked. He'd spoken. Duo seemed just as stupefied.

"Cool, cool. Sit on the other side of Wufei so I can steal his food. Damn that rice looked good-- and he didn't even offer to share!!" Duo sniffed indignantly, and reached for the itch again. Heero didn't comment, and didn't pull away from the small band.

How does he do it....

I could just skip...... Trowa sighed. He knew better. Catherine would have my head. He stalled by neatening the single book that his locker held. He straightened his book bag, adjusting the straps. Fix the book again....

"Trowa! What are you doing we've got like two seconds 'fore the bell rings!!" Duo howled, grabbing Trowa by the backpack and dragging. He barely had time to slam his locker door before being hauled bodily down the hall, down several flights of steps and into the class just as the bell shrilled in his ear. Zechs scowled, then rolled his eyes at Duo's sheepish beam.

"Just sit down, Maxwell, Mr. Barton." Trowa avoided Zech's eyes and found his seat. He could feel curious eyes on him; especially when Duo plopped down into the seat next to him and waved to the girls he'd abandoned. They seemed crushed.

Zechs greeted them solicitously, and congratulated them on portraits well done. He passed out informational sheets on the next assignment, which once again involved sketching. More faces. Trowa sighed insufferably as the Art I teacher passed out a paper with outlined steps on how to create a face-- he was horrified. It had an oval, dotted and solid lines. It looked like an alien.

"If you don't feel comfortable using this method, and have cultivated or refined one of your own, I'm all for variation--"

Duo raised his hand suddenly. Zechs bristled.

"No! No stick figures." The boy's hand didn't go down. "NO CRAYONS!" Duo pouted, and lowered his arm.

"If you have a different method, I'd like to see an example before you begin."

"Hey Mr. Zechs," Duo piped up. He had his feet propped up on the table, and was leaning dangerously far back in the chair. "Who are we going to draw?"

Zechs' eyes narrowed. Steam puffed up from within the starched white collar of his shirt. Duo was wise enough not to say anything while the teacher was cooling off.

"I was just getting to that. I've assigned partners--" The class groaned as one. Zechs retrieved another a yellow sheet of paper from his desk, and cleared his throat.

"Relena Peacecraft will be working with Wufei Chang."

"What?!"

Trowa winced. The voice was unbelievably loud, obnoxious, and ear splitting. He turned to see an indignant pretty blonde girl bolt up.

"I was supposed to work with Heeeeero!!"

Zechs looked puzzled. He too seemed to be deaf from Relena's She-Wolf call.

"I don't believe there were any "supposed to"s involved, Ms. Peacecraft. The pairings were all random...." This did not deflate Relena's aim in any way, shape or form.

"I don't care. I want to work with Heero-- he's my boyfriend, after all." She looked over with a superior smile. Trowa looked at Heero in shock. *HE* has a girlfriend?!

Heero's face was pale. Normally blank features had grown sickly. He looked ready to bolt.

"Now, Relena," Zechs admonished patiently. "I do believe you can survive one assignment with out him. Sit down, and I'll give the rest of the pairs, and the details. You might want to take notes--" Zechs looked away and addressed the entire class. Relena looked stunned at having been brushed aside so simply. Trowa found himself following the angles of her face sharply-- that's what she was... Sharp... soft lines and quick strokes. No depth....

"Possessive, isn't she," Duo snorted. "Hey Heero-- you really hooked up with--"

"NO," Heero graveled. He was scribbling down everything Zechs was saying. The grip on his pencil was tight-- potentially pencil breaking.....

Duo seemed relieved. Trowa's eyebrows twitched at such a flitting emotion.

"Duo Maxwell," Zechs paused. "Will work with Heero Yuy..."

Duo laughed in pure amusement. He tossed his head back and gave Relena an upside-down smile. Relena had nails, Trowa noted. She looked ready to rake them across Duo's face. Trowa kicked Duo's chair legs, firmly grounding all four of them. Duo gave him a confused look, but seemed to catch on as Trowa moved his eyes quickly in Relena's direction, then back to Duo meaningfully.

"Gotcha," Duo giggled.

"Duo," Zechs snapped. Duo was effectively muffled for the next few seconds, and Zechs continued.

"Trowa Barton will work with Quatre Winner--"

Of all the people--

"Cool--" Duo stated simply. He was distracted by a fuzz ball on his black tee-shirt. Trowa just looked at the paper before him. He'd written a Q. He erased it quickly, and folded his hands. Waiting.

"--Okayyyy...." Zechs finished up. "As you know, we'll be doing portraits. Just the face is necessary-- I won't ask you all to be Mona Lisa." Zechs giggled at his lame joke. He was answered with clue less faces. "Heh... yeah... You'll be spending the week on this-- getting together with your partner. You can even do it out of school. I expect at least some quality, since we're taking up the whole week--" *RING* Zechs sighed as his students scattered. Trowa scooped up his notes, and swatted at Duo as he tried to "help"-- meaning he shoved Trowa's papers into the tiny front pocket of his book bag. Heero had all ready vacated the room-- wisely-- probably to avoid both Relena and Duo. Said Relena was all ready in the process of chewing out Zechs.

"She scares me," Duo confided. Trowa almost nodded in agreement.

"Trowa?"

If I could hear angels... Trowa turned around. He found himself looking down. Not far, but deeply. Quatre smiled at him.

"Hi."

Trowa just stared. He could speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't even hear Duo's playful greeting and ruffling of Quatre's hair. It knocked some of the pale strands into his eyes, which he pushed away, laughing.

"Don't make me come after you," Quatre joked. Duo laughed at what seemed to be such an outlandish idea.

I can't believe he looks like that. Quatre couldn't encompass lines. Trowa couldn't even fathom using shading-- he had no darkness in him. I could only use light-- white..... Impossible.

Quatre turned back to Trowa. He met the back of the boy's head. Trowa shouldered his pack. He still felt frozen. But melting....

"Can I sit with you at lunch?" Quatre inquired of both.

"Of course!! But won't your circus miss you?" Duo demanded wryly. He was inching towards the door. The next class was filing in.

Trowa nodded unnecessarily.

"No... They're too busy bragging about their summer vacations." Quatre followed Trowa and Duo out into the hall, where all three were nearly swept away. Trowa had half a mind to follow the flow of traffic, but stayed. He was stealing quick, furtive glances at Quatre. I'll be up all night.... I wish I had more oil paint.....

"Even Dorothy?" Duo asked in a dramatically shocked tone.

"We broke up," Quatre said simply. Duo blinked.

"Oh. Great-- now I feel bad. Um-- what' s appropriate for this-- sorry?" His attempt was half hearted, but well accepted.

"Don't be. We're both *happy* for once-- I gotta go. See you at lunch!" Quatre waved. Trowa almost jumped out of the way to let Quatre pass. He watched the blonde disappear into the throng of bodies.

"I'll ask you why you did that later," Duo muttered bemusedly. "See ya."

Lunch.... was as promised. Quatre was there, chatting with Duo while Heero and Wufei ignored either of them. They'd left him a seat that was perfectly opposite from Quatre.

I could always turn back, he mused. Ah, too late. Duo's eagle eyes caught the tall artist in his tracks, and he waved him over.

"Hiiii Trowa we were just talking about you!" Duo sang eagerly. He shoved his empty, mauled food tray away and leaned closer. "I'm thinking about getting partners switched-- it's just totally not fair that you two were put together. You'll have the best set of portraits-- I bet Heero here can only do stick figures..."

Heero sat up indignantly, surprising everyone around him. He glared at Duo.

"Stick figures." His voice was not questioning; just merely inquiring.

Duo nodded, and turned back to Trowa, completely ignoring the fuming blue-eyed boy.

"My "stick figures" would probably look better than anything you could do."

A challenge, Trowa realized with ripening amusement. It quickly died however, at the look on Duo's face. It was feral.

"Was that a challenge, Yuy?" He oozed, gazing over at his quiet partner with masked glee.

Heero didn't answer. He didn't have to. Duo inclined his head slightly; accepting.

"This should be fun."

Quatre was speaking to him. Trowa blushed and looked down at the speckled table top. Damnit.

"Trowa, would you like to come to my house, with Duo and Heero, this afternoon? I guess we can work on our portraits, and totally ignore the pool...." Quatre laughed as Duo let out an excited howl and drummed rapidly on the table top.

"Now you're getting somewhere!!!"

Utter disappointment filled Trowa. He had to fix dinner for Catherine... She was working overtime, and he'd promised...

"I can't," he sighed. "I have to fix dinner...."

"Trowaaa!" Duo whined. His head flopped lifelessly onto the table, and Trowa couldn't help but to look at the pitiful creature. "Can we pick you up *after* dinner?"

Trowa blinked. I didn't even think of an after.

"I guess..."

"Great! We'll get all that art stuff out of the way in one night, and we can hang for the rest of the week-- when did Zechs say it was due? Heero-- you're not going to eat that?!" Duo sounded so completely mortified that even Heero stopped in the process of turning the page of his book to stare. Trowa snuck a quick glance at Quatre. He was watching Duo with a small smile, face cupped in his palm. No hard lines at all....

Trowa strode home with a purpose. Duo had ridden with Quatre in the heir's very long, very black limousine. Of course he'd popped out of the roof to lean into the wind, and duck as the vehicle went roaring beneath an oak tree.

He stomped into the house and straight into the kitchen. He wanted to get dinner finished as quickly as he could, so he'd have time to draw before Duo and Quatre came...

Hmm.... macaroni and cheese. Perfect. Catherine would kill him for it... Trowa slapped together the mixings, and popped the huge lumpy bowl into the microwave. He ran up stairs, and slammed his door. There were only a few boxes on the floor, but he knew exactly what they contained....

Catherine had given him a canvas for his birthday. A real fabric one, at least 2 feet by 10, and a giant sketch book that was perfect for any medium-- oil, chalk pastels or crayon. Maybe I should get one of these for Duo... He dragged the giant form out from beneath his bed, and unfolded it to a decent white clean sheet of paper. His easel was crooked and decrepit, but it held up.... Trowa found the pastels.... And closed his eyes.... Quatre was as clear as if he were inches away again, staring up with seas for eyes, and gold for hair......

I've never seen someone so clearly before. He's the perfect model-- one I've never seen before, and never will again. He's beautiful.

The white chalk crumbled in his fingers, but there was more. Trowa threw it behind him, dusting most of the remains all over his shirt and neck. He followed with pale yellow, and golden rod. Sky blue, gray-- absolutely no black. Apricot. Darker blue for Quatre's pupils... Palest, palest pink for his perfect lips-- he cursed as a brand new stick snapped, and tumbled to the floor. He took the stubby piece up and continued. His fingers were coated, but he didn't care. His jeans were ruined. Catherine will kill me, if she doesn't beat me senseless over the carpet first... or the macaroni.... Blue. Blue and white and silver--

"TROWA!!"

If his heart hadn't been locked in place and so utterly transfixed it would have leapt from his throat and fallen to the dusty floor. Trowa whirled, pastel in hand, and blinked at his sister. It was obvious she'd been standing there for quite sometime. Her plate full of garishly yellow macaroni was half eaten, and her face was amused.

"Twenty minutes this time," she observed, turning to go. "Thanks for "dinner." Your friends are downstairs."

Dread crept upon him with the mention of dinner, and crushed him as she mentioned his "friends." Downstairs. Twenty minutes?!?!

Trowa abandoned the chalk-- after placing it in its appropriate slot in the box, and covering his canvas painstakingly with a sheet. He fled downstairs, trying to fluff off most of the chalk. He could hear Duo commenting on The Crocodile Hunter. He entered as the boy began flipping television channels rapidly. Quatre looked up from beside him on the sofa, curled up quite comfortably. His eyes grew round.

"Trowa," he observed. "A much more colorful version, I do believe." His smile was radiant. Not like the one upstairs, but equal in emotion....

"Is that chalk?" Duo demanded, hopping up to come over and swipe a finger across Trowa's shoulder. He blew the bright blue powder back onto him, and shook his head. "You've left us down here for half an hour-- for chalk! I'm hurt buddy."

Trowa scowled and brushed himself off again.

"I'm sorry. I was caught up in something--"

"What? Another masterpiece like Zechs? Can I see it?" He grinned eagerly, scooting meaningfully towards the staircase.

Any normal day Trowa would have shouted, screamed, begged, grown sullen and said no. Duo's face... and just Duo... had him pause.

"No." The crushed look he received was heartbreaking. Really.

"Awwww...." Duo kicked at the floor in disappointment, and whirled back to Quatre. "I bet its a nude picture of Angela next door-- and he won't let us seeeee it!!!"

Trowa's reaction was delayed. The thought was so ridiculous-- He laughed. Laughed hard, covering his face to hide his mirth.

"Trowa?" He heard Catherine's disbelieving call from the kitchen. He stifled the laughter and wiped at slightly damp eyes. Duo and Quatre were watching him, faces bright with amusement. Laughing with him.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Duo accused. Trowa rolled his eyes.

"You're a psychic, Duo. Maybe someday I'll let you in my room for the view-- I've got a telescope you know."

Duo's eyes were like saucers. "Really?"

The Winners.... were well off.... to say the least.... Duo was living it up in the limousine-- changing channels on the mini-television faster than he had in Trowa's living room. The boy had talent... somewhere...

"... wow..." Trowa found himself commenting. He found that he could speak, if he didn't look directly into Quatre's bottomless crystal eyes-- just the memory of them made him shiver delicately.

"Heh heh. Would you believe Quatre *works*?!"

"Where do you work?" He asked the window softly. He could see Quatre's reflection faintly. He's looking at me, Trowa realized.

"With me, bagging groceries at Kings." Trowa nodded. Kings Deli-- Catherine had been delighted with it-- "It's tiny, and has everything from instant coffee to shoe laces!!"

"We're the best damn baggers Mr. Kings has ever seen," Duo swore, puffing up with pride. The vehicle stopped suddenly, and Duo's smile grew devilish. He popped out of the door, scaring the daylights out of the driver. After thoroughly scolding Duo, Quatre and Trowa were allowed out. He followed the lithe young blonde up three softly beige granite steps.

"Hey Quatre-- maybe we should have gone in the back way. I don't think your doorman's had time to cool down over the hair thing."

I don't want to know, Trowa swore.

The doorman was *not* happy. He actually glared at Duo, and watched Trowa like a hawk, waiting for another braided maniac to emerge. Trowa decided to "be good."

Quatre led them through sparkling clean and modest halls to a brightly lit den that was about the size of Trowa's house. The carpet was blue, and unbearably soft. Duo divested himself of his running shoes and plopped down in it, right in the middle of the floor, as if Trowa hadn't been inches behind him. Quatre chose a seat in what had to be the softest looking sofa in the world, and sighed.

"When is Heero supposed to come over?" Quatre inquired, leaning his head back. Trowa hovered precariously above Duo, surveying the area.

"Ten minutes-- that's how long he's got till I start ringing his phone off the hook," Duo declared.

Trowa moved soundlessly to the far end of Quatre's sofa. He sat, perched, and ready to bolt. Calm down! he ordered of himself.

"Master Quatre?" A strong, docile voice queried from the door way. Green violet and blue rose and studied the formally dressed doorman. He seemed more civil... until Duo waved from the carpet. "You have another guest."

"Hey Heero!" Quatre greeted, standing to welcome him. Trowa stood as well, and paced away from the seat. Heero nodded, halting two feet into room to scowl at Duo, who'd spread himself across the floor like a fat, contented cat. With a long brown braid and indigo eyes.

"Well.... I guess we can start on that project thing--"

"Thing," Trowa echoed, rolling his eyes. Quatre laughed, and Heero seemed as if he were contemplating whether or not to kick Duo out of the way....

"Thing!! Ya got any paper, Quatre?" Quatre nodded. "Pencils and-or crayons?" Another nod. "Good. Let's get started-- Trowa! Do my project."

Trowa rolled his eyes. Move over Heero, I'll kick him myself.

Trowa slouched lower in his chair. The seat was comfortable. The room temperature couldn't get any more perfect. Duo wasn't howling and wailing that his pencil had broken, and Heero's blood pressure seemed to have gone down... Quatre was concentrating hard on his paper... They all were. He was surprised to find them all to be extremely decent artists. Duo with his ragged but refined lines, and Heero with perfect precision. He couldn't see Quatre's work..... They have potential-- futures with this sort of thing..... His sketch pad-- provided generously by Quatre-- was blank. He'd scraped the pencil lightly over the slightly grainy surface, but it had left no mark.

"Hey, how'd you do your nose like that?" Duo inquired. Trowa's eyebrows rose at the boy's perched position on top of the table, cross legged and seated in front of Heero. He looked... classic. Beautiful. Trowa closed his eyes for a moment, and remembered the deathly vision he'd held Duo in.... Black robe and scythe..... It really does suit him, he thought in surprise. .... but he's so alive...

"What do you mean?" Heero grunted. Trowa lowered his head, eyes still lidded, and listened to the numbing sound of scratching lead....

"Well. I have to just make little-- scratches-- to make a nose. See?" He arched back to scoop up his sketchbook. Trowa smiled as his memory of "Heero" by Duo resurfaced. It was a wonderful portrait. Dark brooding eyes, all in pencil (Quatre had conveniently forgotten where he'd put the crayons). Heero looked happy, though. He has a wonderful imagination, to see Heero like that.... All of them had yet to see the blue eyed Asian smile... "I mean it works and all, but yours actually *looks* like a nose!!"

Heero studied the image intently. He was surprised, but hid it well. He raised an appreciative glance to Duo's patient face.

"It's fine."

Duo smiled. Trowa could hear it. He shuffled back off of the table, and plopped into the chair. Trowa opened his eyes hurriedly and sat up. What-- what was on the paper?

He swore. Swore fluently and angrily. Quatre was before him. On the paper of course. His eyes were closed, mouth open slightly and looking very, very blissful.... Trowa's arm slashed violently, ripping the paper out and hiding it noisily in-between the rest of the paper. I can't believe I like it.

Trowa met Duo's eyes as he glanced around the table. Oh god.

"You finished, Trowa?" He asked softly. His eyes were fiery. Plotting.

"No. I messed up." He hunched back down, flattening the pad onto the table. He glanced up and down several hundred times at Quatre, then over at the abandoned face-making handout. The lines and ovals and football shapes for eyes still appalled him, but they'd work, for now. A generic Quatre was emerging--

His sketch pad disappeared. A long black streak erupted over it, and flashing white cut across his nose. Duo had snuck over soundlessly-- absolutely soundlessly the demon-- and now he was sprinting across the den, lighting upon the landing leading out into the hall. He paused with a flourish, and studied "Quatre" by Trowa.

Horror. Self loathing-- and rage. How could he *do* that?! Trowa roared. He was up and stalking closer. The boy's face was contorted-- not in disgust, but in wonder. Trowa halted, breathing hard and killing mad.

"Oh my god, Trowa. How-- how did you do this?" He whispered. Trowa shivered.

"Give it to me, Duo," he breathed. His voice was fire, creeping up his vocal cords and burning the air like acrid smoke.... Duo visibly flinched at the emotion in every molecule of Trowa's body. He was quiet for eons.

"... can I keep it?"

That was unexpected. Trowa's anger abated. It sounded like Duo was about to cry. Or sing. Or die. His eyes were lowered, studying Quatre's portrait. His fingers clutched the paper madly.

"Why?" The question came unbidden from him, but Trowa let it flow. I should beat him into a pulp for stealing it.... Duo's expression stopped all movement, and all thought.

"It reminds me.... of.... well..." he laughed hollowly. It was a sour, empty tone. "The Sister........"

I can't deny him this. Trowa scowled, trying to work back up to that mad rage, or any other emotion that was strong enough to help him rip the paper away. I *can't* deny him....

".... of course...." he sighed. Duo nodded. His thank you was his silence.

"I gotta go, Quatre. Thanks for having me--" Duo was gone. He couldn't melt away in the brightly lit hallways, but he was doing his damnedest.