Light Fantastic

By DRL

 

 

 

Trowa Barton Winner sat back in his chair and looked around the vast room at the sea of tables, at which were seated some of the most eminent (and most importantly for Trowa, the wealthiest) people on Earth and the Colonies.  He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.  It had been an extremely successful evening, so far, and it was by no means over yet.  The Annual Winner Foundation Charity Dinner & Dance was still in full swing, and the dance floor was crammed with couples swirling in time with the strains of the lively tune the band were currently playing.  Trowa knew the song though he couldn’t remember the name, and he sang along with it in his head. 

 

The current function was one of a number of fundraising events that Trowa and his team at the Winner Foundation arranged each year to raise funds to finance their many housing, development and education programs throughout Earth and the Colonies.  In the decade or so during which Trowa had risen to his current position of CEO of the Foundation, he had taken it from a vague idea in the mind of his then lover Quatre Winner, himself CEO of Winner Enterprises Inc., of somehow putting something back into the community, to the largest and most influential charitable organisation in the entire universe.  Trowa was particularly successful in persuading the wealthy to part with vast sums of their money in a good cause, and to do it both willingly and repeatedly.  Whether it was his striking good looks, his self-effacing diffidence, his courtly charm, his graceful elegance, his sartorial perfection or his impeccable manners, he remained a firm favourite with the press and public alike, and everything he touched turned to gold.  Both himself and Quatre, now his husband, remained darlings of the media, and their every move was photographed, documented and reported under the guise of ‘celebrity gossip’.

 

The Winner Foundation’s annual social events had become bastions of the social season.  ‘Invitations’ were purchased at prices that were exorbitantly and ridiculously high, and were usually sold out within hours.  Dress was always formal, and a whole industry was sustained in supplying ladies with couture gowns and jewellery.  From the elegance of the gilt-edged invitations to the luxurious opulence of the ballrooms and banqueting halls that these soirees always took place in, the events spoke to the very souls of the pampered and privileged patrons, and therein lay Trowa’s success.  He massaged their egos, flattered their vanity, relieved them of their riches, salved their consciences and they never even saw him coming!   He played on the wealthy and the powerful as on a stringed instrument and he did it all with an easy grace and an enigmatic smile.  He was an extremely clever man.

 

Trowa looked around at the faces seated at his own table.  His best friends, the five people most dear to him in the whole world were seated around him, all together again after far too long, in his opinion.  They did not all get together like this as often as any of them would have liked, due to distance in some cases and busy schedules in others, but whenever they did they invariably made an event of it, and had a wonderful time.  Quatre, beside him on his right, was ethereally beautiful in his traditional black tuxedo.  Nicky, his and Quatre’s image consultant, had excelled himself, and his husband was groomed and coiffed to absolute perfection.  Nicky, Trowa thought was worth every penny of his exorbitant retainer.  Duo, seated on his left looked roguish as usual, but extremely stylish with it.  It never ceased to amaze Trowa how Duo could manage to look comfortable and at ease, even in a formal evening suit.  This evening he wore his own special brand of formal wear, knee-length frock coat of black damask, with a high, Nehru collar, narrow legged pants and well-polished leather boots.  His beautiful hip-length hair was unbraided, but caught up at the nape of his neck with a black silk scarf.  Heero sat beside Duo, looking dapper and handsome in a formal tuxedo, much the same as Quatres.  He had even managed to tame his hair into submission Trowa noticed with amusement, although he suspected that Duo deserved the credit for this.  Wufei and Treize were visions both.  Treize was dressed in an old-style tail coat, stiff-fronted shirt, collar and cravat, complete with a blood-red sash on which was pinned a large gold medallion, which proclaimed his status as a member of the nobility and identified his rank.  He was by no means the only one present wearing such a token, but he wore it with the most aplomb.  He looked regal, stately, and the epitome of sheer elegance.  People said, Trowa mused, that he himself was elegant but he had nothing on Treize.  The man wrote the book!  As Treize’s consort, Wufei was dressed in a similar manner to his husband, the only difference being Wufei’s medallion, which confirmed his status as Treize’s spouse, and his own noble rank, conferred on him by marriage.  Although Wufei looked extremely smart in his outfit, despite his ever-present spectacles, he also managed to look like a small boy who has been forced to don his best suit for church on Sunday, and was resenting every minute of it.  And, Trowa thought, this was probably not too far from the truth.  They were all his dearest friends and they had done him proud this evening, and for that he silently thanked every one of them.

 

“Are you okay sweetheart?”  The sudden voice in his ear caused Trowa to start violently.  He turned his head sharply towards the source of the voice and looked into the concerned blue eyes that gazed up at him.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”  The eyes lowered in contrition.

 

Trowa smiled down at the person he loved more than his own life.  He leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips.

 

“That’s alright darling,” He said, placing his hand reassuringly over the one that lay lightly on his forearm, “And yes, I’m fine.  I was just thinking.”

 

“About what?” Quatre asked as he entwined his delicate fingers with Trowas’, but before his husband could answer a large hand clapped him on the back.

 

“Hey Tro, great party man!”  Trowa turned to his left and smiled indulgently at Duo.  Duo had freely partaken of the champagne that had been flowing copiously all night and consequently he was even more garrulous than usual.  This was not an unfamiliar occurrence however, and Trowa knew that Duo was well able to keep himself in check so he entertained no fears of an embarrassing scene or anything of that sort.  Anyway, Duo’s husband Heero would soon call a discreet halt when he thought that things had gone quite far enough.  Heero would calmly suggest to Duo that perhaps he had had enough to drink, Duo would agree with a witty rejoinder, and from that point on he would imbibe soft drinks only.  Trowa had seen it happen countless times, so he was not in the least bit worried by Duo’s rapidly slurring speech.

 

“Thanks Duo,” He replied, “But I can’t take all the credit.  I had a lot of help.” 

 

Without taking his eyes from Duo he clasped Quatre’s hand a little tighter, raised their entwined fingers to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on Quatre’s knuckles, just to let him know that he was not forgotten, even though Trowa’s attention was momentarily diverted.  A flash bulb went off somewhere to his left behind Duo, causing him to blink, but beyond this involuntary gesture he paid it no further attention, so used was he to this by now.   He did, however, glace round at Quatre to make sure that he was not bothered by it.  Reassured on this point he turned back to Duo. 

 

“Well I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself Duo.”  He declared in his calm, even voice.

 

“Well I’ve got to make the most of it.”  The American said sourly, his voice dropping.  “Hey Tro, you gonna eat that?”  Trowa shook his head and pushed his untasted dessert across the table to Duo, who fell upon it with a will.

 

“What do you mean?”  Quatre asked, leaning closer to Trowa to catch Duo’s words and further emphasising the conspiratorial air that had suddenly descended upon the trio.  Duo glanced to his left to where Heero was seated, saw that he was engaged in conversation with Treize and Wufei, then turned back to Quatre & Trowa.

 

“Now don’t get me wrong,” He began in a sotto voce undertone, “I love Heero dearly and no-one could be a better husband than he is.”  Quatre and Trowa both held their peace at these words, although Heero and Duo’s frequent and heated contretemps did cross both their minds, and Quatre called to mind many lengthy telephone conversations with Duo, where the braided American regaled his friend with Heero’s many shortcomings as a husband. “Oh I know we fight all the time and all, but that’s nothing, just letting off a little steam.”  Duo added, as if sensing their thoughts.  “But he’s been working so hard lately that we never get any time to do stuff together.  He never takes me anywhere anymore.  I don’t like to complain, but I do get bored just sitting around doing nothing every evening because he is working late at the office or in his study working on something or other, or even off on a business trip somewhere.  I don’t even go with him on these trips any more because all that happens is that I get left behind to amuse myself at the hotel, while he is out at meetings and shit.  It never used to be like this.  His business trips used to be real fun, but lately, I dunno…  I swear to god, it’s getting so bad that just going out for groceries is beginning to look exciting”

 

“Oh Duo,” Quatre said sympathetically, “Why didn’t you say?  You know that you can always come to us if you are bored.”

 

“That’s kind of you Q,” Duo said with a wry smile, “But you and Tro would soon get tired of me hanging around you every evening.  You both work too and you need your evenings to yourselves.”

 

Quatre opened his mouth to speak, but the protest he was about to offer died on his lips as he realised that Duo was quite right.

 

“Have you spoken to Heero about this?”  Trowa asked in his usual forthright manner.  Duo shook his head firmly and quickly looked over his shoulder once more to make sure that Heero was still occupied.  To his surprise Heero’s chair was empty and Treize and Wufei were deep in conversation, their heads close together.  Assuming that Heero had gone to the men’s room, he turned back to Quatre and Trowa.

 

“How can I say anything to him?” He replied, “He’s worked so hard for so long to make the company a success, and now that it is, he is just making sure that it stays that way.  He provides very well for me, making sure that I never want for anything.  Because of him I don’t have to work, so I can concentrate on my art.  He makes no real demands on me whatsoever.  How can I complain to him about such a trivial matter?”

 

“But it’s not trivial if it’s making you unhappy.”  Quatre said.

 

“Not really unhappy Q,” Duo said, “Just a little disgruntled, and not so disgruntled that I would bother him with it when he’s obviously so busy.  Things have been great since he got my ring back for me and we got back together (1).  He’s been trying real hard to work at our relationship, and I don’t want to jeopardise that by bringing this up now.  I know he loves me and I know that I matter to him.  He just can’t give me his time at the moment.  I understand that.”  Duo gave a decisive nod of his head, as if he had just convinced himself of something.  “Yeah, I understand,” He repeated.  “I just hope that it doesn’t last too long is all.” He added despondently.

 

Quatre rose from his seat and walked around Trowa’s chair to stand before his American friend.  As he did so he released Trowa’s hand but trailed his fingers up his arm and across the back of his shoulders, relinquishing contact with his beloved’s body only at the last possible moment.  This he did totally naturally and without any premeditation or conscious thought, driven by some deep-seated and subconscious desire for constant physical contact with his adored one.  Duo saw this and smiled.  He had noticed this same phenomenon in both Quatre and Trowa over the many years that he had known them.  His two friends loved each other with a fervour that words could not express.  He had never seen a bond as strong and intense as that which Quatre and Trowa shared.  God knew, he loved Heero with all his heart, but what Heero and he shared could in no way be compared to the pure and absolute devotion that these two felt for each other.  One could not exist for one second without the other, Duo was convinced of this, but this thought he pushed immediately from his mind, not even wanting to think about anything happening to any of his friends - nay, his family, as he now considered them.

 

“Come, dance with me.”  Quatre held a finely boned hand out to Duo, which he clasped in his larger one and allowed himself to be led out into the throng of couples on the dance floor.  Quatre enfolded Duo in his arms and Duo returned the embrace, laying his head on Quatres shoulder.  They swayed together and moved in slow, circular motion around the dance floor, completely oblivious of the fact that the band were playing a lively two-step. 

 

Trowa watched them until they disappeared, engulfed by the crowd.  He guessed that Quatre’s motive in asking Duo to dance had more to do with administering comfort than with any desire to ‘cut a rug’.   Once they were out of sight he rose and shunted across into the chair that Quatre had just vacated, the better to listen in on the heated discussion taking place between Wufei and Treize.

 

“Look Treize, I’m not going to do it, so will you please shut up about it.”  Wufei folded his arms across his chest and set his jaw in a defiant scowl.

 

“But Wufei, be reasonable.”  Treize implored, but to no avail.  The Chinese ex-pilot had evidently said his last word on the subject under discussion.  Trowa smirked as he saw the all-too familiar look on Wufei’s face.  What ever it was that Treize wanted, he was going to have a fight on his hands to get it.  “God, but you are impossible sometimes.” Treize said, turning to Trowa in exasperation.  “Trowa, can’t you talk some sense into him?”

 

“I doubt it.”  Trowa replied dryly.  “What’s the matter?”

 

“It’s his eyes.”  Treize said, and turned to Trowa with a look that held such worry and concern that a frisson of alarm crept along his spine.  “He’s been having trouble with headaches again, so I took him to see that specialist, you know, the one that he saw last year?”  Trowa nodded in acknowledgement and Treize continued.  “Well, he confirmed that Wufei’s eyesight is deteriorating rapidly, and that at the current rate he will be completely blind within ten years.”

 

An involuntary gasp escaped Trowa’s lips and he looked sharply at Wufei.  To his surprise Wufei returned his gaze with a curious expression, one that Trowa could not place.  One thing was certain though, Wufei’s defiance had all but disappeared.

 

“Is there anything that can be done?”  Trowa asked, looking from Wufei to Treize, then back again.  Wufei snorted and looked away.  Treize shot him a weary sidelong glance, sighed heavily then turned back to Trowa.

 

“Yes there is,” He said resignedly, “And this is just about where we came in.  I have been increasingly worried about the alarming rate at which Wufei’s eyesight is deteriorating, and we have been consulting a leading ophthalmologist who it seems has developed a simple surgical procedure which would not actually reverse Fei’s current condition, but it would arrest it.  In other words, his eyes would not get any better than they are now, but they would not get any worse either.”

 

From the looks on the faces of both his friends, Trowa sensed that this was not the good news that it appeared to be.

 

“So what exactly is the problem?”  He asked with apprehension.

 

“Fei refuses to undergo the operation, that is the problem.”  Treize said wearily.

 

“But why Wufei?”  Trowa asked calmly.  Wufei turned hard, flinty eyes upon him.

 

“Don’t you start!”  He spat venomously.  “He hasn’t told you the whole story.”  He swivelled his hard, angry gaze to his hapless husband.  “Go on, tell him the rest.”

 

Trowa raised a serenely enquiring eyebrow at Treize.  The Russian noble passed a hand across an agitated brow, closed his ice-blue eyes as though collecting his thoughts, then spoke in a low voice.

 

“The procedure is not without a certain degree of risk.”  He began.  “There is a 30% chance that the operation itself could cause immediate blindness.”

 

“Oh my God!”  An uncharacteristic exclamation escaped Trowa.

 

“Exactly!”  Wufei said.  “So my choices are to either go blind right now, or to go blind slowly over the next 10 years.  An enviable choice, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“But Fei, my pet,” Treize interjected, clasping one of Wufei’s hands in his much larger one, “It may not come to that.  Don’t forget that by the same token there is a 70% chance of complete success.  A 70% chance Fei!”  Treize implored.  Wufei snorted derisively. 

 

“A 70% chance of success?  Huh, what do those quacks know?”  He said with scorn.  He snatched his hand from his husbands and folded his arms across his chest once again.

 

“Fei, they are trying to help you.”  Treize spoke with an infinite patience that said that he had been over this ground before and was willing to go back over it as many times as it took.  “You wanted a second opinion,” He continued, “So we got one, but all it did was confirm the diagnosis, the prognosis and the prescribed treatment.  If you want a third opinion we will get one, and a fourth, a fifth or even a sixth.  But remember what Dr Scrivener said, every week we delay reduced the chances of success.”  Wufei did not reply.  He glanced up, caught Trowa’s eye and looked quickly and nervously away.  “And then of course,” Trieze continued, “There’s the good news.  Dr Scrivener says that once you have fully recovered from the operation, he can perform a simple laser surgery to correct the present damage and restore your sight to near normal.  Just think my pet,”  Treize took Wufei’s hand once more, “No more spectacles.”  Treize’s encouraging tone was lost on Wufei, who shot him a withering look and snatched his hand away again.

 

“Leave. Me. Alone.”  He said, punctuating every word.  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

 

Trowa, who had sat silently and thoughtfully throughout the entire exchange, fixed Wufei with a penetrating stare.  He was beginning to get an angle on what he thought might be happening here, and he set out to test his theory.

 

“What’s wrong Wufei?” He asked, “Why don’t you want to have the operation?  Yes, there is an element of risk, but I remember the days when the thought of risking your very life, with much shorter odds than this, would not have weighed with you for one second.”

 

Wufei turned on him with eyes that burned with indignant rage, but as they met the dispassionate, emerald green gaze, brows insouciantly raised in enquiry, the fire died and he visibly deflated.

 

“Why Wufei?”  Trowa persisted, his gaze calm but relentless. 

 

“I…, I…,” Wufei stammered.  He looked at his husband, a silent appeal in his obsidian eyes.

 

“You what, my sweet?”  Treize asked gently.

 

Wufei looked into Treizes eyes, read the deep affection and genuine concern written therein, and gave in.  The many months of worry, anguish and fear that he had been suppressing by sheer strength of will and dogged determination finally overwhelmed him.  His façade of bullishness and ferocity crumbled as hot tears burst forth and flowed freely down his cheeks.

 

“I’m scared Trowa,” He said in a hoarse whisper, “I’m so scared.”  He stifled a sob and scrubbed at his tears in disgust.  Treize was at his side in a moment, solicitously cradling him in his arms and rocking him gently.

 

“Fei, Fei my pet,” He murmured.    Wufei buried his face in his husband’s broad chest while Treize stroked his hair gently to calm and sooth him. 

 

Trowa watched the scene that he had wrought with no regrets.  Now everything would be okay.  He rose, took Treize by the arm and bade him rise also, bringing Wufei with him.  He led them both through the sea of tables, nodding perfunctorily to several revellers who hailed him as he passed, to a small but well-appointed ante-room attached to the main banqueting hall where the dinner was being held.  He ushered them inside and Treize swiftly settled Wufei on a plush velvet settee, taking a seat next to him.

 

“You can stay here for as long as you like.”  Trowa said as he hovered at the door.  “I will make sure that no-one disturbs you, but if you need anything just ring – the waiting staff will see to you.”  He indicated a crewel-work bellrope  which descended from the ceiling and fell demurely beside the room’s cosy fireplace.  He put a hand to the doorhandle as was about to withdraw and draw it to, when Wufei called him back.

 

“Trowa?” He said, his voice still a little broken.  Trowa froze in mid motion but said nothing.  His eyebrows, as usual, made the tacit enquiry.  “Thanks!” Wufei said, and smiled a thin, watery smile.  Trowa closed the door and left them.

 

 

After a word with the staff to ensure Wufei and Treize’s privacy, Trowa returned to his table and found Quatre seated alone, a fretful frown creasing his brow.  However, as soon as the petit blond caught sight of his willowy husband weaving his way towards him his eyes immediately lit up and sparkled with happiness.  He caught Trowa’s hands in his as soon as he came within grabbing distance.

 

“Oh Trowa, there you are.”  He said with obvious relief, “I was beginning to wonder.”

 

Trowa raised each of Quatres hands, still clasping his own, to his lips in turn and kissed the fingers of each.

 

“I’m sorry my love.  Wufei had a slight headache and Treize took him out for a breath of air.  I was just showing them to the rose arbour.”  He hated lying to Quatre, but to tell him the truth now would only upset him and Trowa had no intention of putting any kind of a dampener on his beloved’s evening.  “Where are Heero and Duo, dancing?”  He asked, more to change the subject than because he really wanted to know.

 

“I don’t think so.”  Quatre replied, pausing to smile brightly for a photographer who snapped a quick shot of Trowa and he as they sat together at the table.  “When Duo and I came back to the table after our dance,” He continued, “Heero was sitting here all alone, looking all mean and moody about something.  He told Duo that he wanted to talk to him and took him off somewhere.  That was a few minutes ago, and then you came back.”  The blond Arabian chewed his rosy lower lip as he looked up at his husband, worry evident in his bright blue eyes.  “Trowa, you don’t think he was mad about Duo and I dancing together do you?  I know we did cuddle a bit, but Duo was upset and I was only trying to comfort him.   And besides, we’ve danced like that together hundreds of times and it has never bothered him before.”

 

“No darling, I don’t think he’s angry at you.”  Trowa hastened to reassure his highly sensitive little love.

 

“I do hope that Duo isn’t in any trouble though.  Heero looked really mad about something.”  Quatre looked more worried than ever.

 

“It’s probably nothing much.  Duo probably left the cap off the toothpaste or something, you know how Heero is.”  Trowa said, casting about him for something to divert Quatre’s attention before he began to get too upset.  “Come and dance with me.”  He said in desperation.  Trowa was not much of a one for dancing, though he did it extremely well, but he knew that Quatre enjoyed it, so he endured it for his love’s sake.  Just as he had hoped, Quatre’s eyes lit up at the idea.

 

“Okay.”  He rose and led Trowa out onto the floor, Duo and Heero momentarily forgotten.

 

 

Out in the rose arbour, Duo was about to find out just what it was that Heero was ‘mad’ about.  When he had returned to the table after dancing with Quatre, Heero had demanded a word with him and then promptly risen and walked away.  Duo had dutifully followed, wondering all the way what he had done to provoke his temperamental husband’s ire this time.  However, when they had reached the arbour, Heero turned to Duo with a smile and took his hand.  He led him to a bench amongst the fragrant rose blossoms and sat down, pulling a confused Duo down beside him.

 

“So, what’s up?”  Duo asked apprehensively

 

“I wanted to apologise.”  Heero replied.

 

“For what?”  Duo asked with a confused frown.

 

“Listen Duo, I know that the past few months have not been much fun for you…”

 

“Oh Heero, you…”  Duo interposed but Heero cut him off.

 

“No Duo, hear me out first.  I know that I have been preoccupied with work and I have not paid much attention to you.  Now considering the problems that this has caused between us in the past, you bore it all with amazing fortitude, and said nothing.  I would like you to know that I appreciate that very much.  I know how hard it was for you, but you gave me the space I needed to put certain measures in place and you strengthened my conviction that I am doing the right thing.”

 

“I don’t understand Heero,” Duo said shaking his head, “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m giving up the business.”  Heero stated calmly.  Duo’s eyes widened in surprise and horror.

 

“Heero no!”  He exclaimed. “You worked so hard to make that company what it is today.   You can’t sell up, not now that everything’s going so well.  I won’t let you do it.  I know how much it means to you.” 

 

Heero’s smile broadened.  He looked at his husband, and swore to himself that he had never loved him more than he did at this moment.  “Duo you amaze me.”  He said.   “All your troubles would be over if I gave up the business, yet you still react like this.  You are just the most amazing person I know, and I love you so much.”  He leaned forward and kissed Duo soundly on his slightly parted lips.  When they broke the kiss Duo tucked his legs up beneath him and snuggled up to Heero on the bench, placing his arms around his husband’s trim waist and his head on his muscular chest.

 

“Now let me explain what is going to happen.”  Heero said as he combed his fingers through Duo’s unbraided hair.  “I’m not selling the business.  I have simply stepped down as an active partner and I have put a board of directors in place to run it for me.  They have been empowered to make all decisions and are under strict instructions not to bother me with anything.  I am going to give it a try for a year, and see what happens.  This year I intend to spend with you, doing whatever you want.  We can travel or stay home and do absolutely nothing for a year, it’s up to you.  The only thing that is certain is that whatever we do, we do it together.  I am at your complete disposal, beginning tomorrow.    This is why I have been so busy these past few months.  I have been putting the structure in place so that I can step back and leave the company to run itself.  It was a mammoth task and I had only a few short months in which to accomplish it.  I set myself a deadline and I only just made it.  I had to tell you tonight because caught some rumours flying around this evening. I thought I had better tell you myself before someone else mentioned it.  My people are set to make a press release tomorrow so the financial press will be carrying the story by the late editions tomorrow evening, but it seems as though the news has leaked out somehow, as it usually does with these things. 

 

“Oh Heero,” Duo looked up at his husband with eyes that shimmered with unshed tears. “You did all that for me?”

 

“All for you.” Heero replied, “And if I were less of a fool I would have done it sooner.  You know the saying ‘You don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone’?”  Duo nodded into his chest and Heero continued.  “I found out just how true that saying is when you left me last summer.  Those were the worst few months of my life, and just consider that statement in the light of a life that has had some pretty bad things happen.  I’m not sorry it happened though, because it gave me the kick in the pants that I needed to see what my stupidity was doing to you and to our relationship.  After you came back, I wracked my brains to see how I could keep the business and keep you at the same time, and I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t.  So I did the only thing I could.  It might not work and we could end up destitute in a year’s time, but somehow I don’t think that that will happen.  I think that everything will be fine.  I don’t ever want to risk losing you Duo; you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

 

Duo snuggled deeper into Heero’s warm embrace and smiled to himself.  “I hope you realise that you have made a rod for your own back now lover.”  He said slyly.

 

“Why is that?” Heero asked.

 

“Well,” Duo replied, “Whenever I want to bend you to my will all I have to do is threaten to leave you and you’ll be putty in my hands.  Ouch, that hurt Yuy!”  He exclaimed as Heero grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged hard.

 

 

 

In the small ante-chamber, Wufei and Treize were snuggled together in much the same way that Heero and Duo were.  Just as Trowa had promised, the room was tranquil and peaceful, and the couple were quite relaxed.  Treize stroked Wufei’s silky hair, and murmured comforting phrases.

 

“Don’t worry my sweet, everything will be alright.”

 

“When I hear you say that I can almost believe that it will,” Wufei said, “But I don’t see how it can be.  I have been so worried and scared for so long now, that it has almost driven me mad.”

 

“But why didn’t you tell me?”  Treize asked.

 

“I just couldn’t.”  Wufei replied.  “I couldn’t tell anyone.  You know those nightmares I’ve been having?”

 

“The ones about the war?”

 

“Kind of.  Well they weren’t about the war at all.  You just assumed that they were and I did nothing to disabuse you, since I couldn’t’ tell you the truth.  I would dream that I would be lying on the operating table, and that you would be there with me.  I would see your face just before succumbing to the anaesthetic.  Then I would be lying on a bed somewhere, in some sort of recovery room I assume, and I would hear your voice saying to me that everything went fine with the operation.  I would ask you when they were going to take the bandages off my eyes, and you wouldn’t answer me.   Then I would put my hand up to my eyes and I would realise that there were no bandages on my eyes.  I couldn’t see you.”  Wufei’s voice broke at this point, and Treize held him tightly.

 

“Oh my love, no wonder you were so frightened.  You should have told me.”  He murmured.

 

“What would have been the point?”  Wufei replied hoarsely.  “There was nothing you could have done.  You couldn’t stop me from dreaming.  I had the same horrible dream over and over again.  That the last time I ever saw your face was just before the operation.  I couldn’t go through with it.  I just couldn’t take the chance of that happening.  At least this way, I would see you for ten more years, albeit increasingly poorly.”  He laughed a little at this, and Treize took heart.  If he could still laugh all was not lost.  “You know what Trowa said about my risking my life without a qualm during the war?”  Wufei continued, “Well he was right, but I didn’t have you then, well, not until the end anyway.  But now I can’t risk never seeing your face again.  I couldn’t bear it… I just couldn’t.”  Wufei gave way to a small sob, which he managed to stifle into a hiccup.

 

“Listen my pet,” Treize said firmly, “You have to have that operation.  You have to recover from this.  I am not going to let you go blind, not now and not in ten year’s time.  Here’s what we are going to do.  I will phone Dr Scrivener’s office tomorrow and make an appointment for the surgery.”

 

“But Treize…”  Wufei began, but Trieze cut him off.

 

“No buts.  We are going to do this.  Everything will be okay, I promise you, and you will have nothing but pleasant dreams from now on.”  Just how he was going to make good on this promise Treize  had no earthly idea, but he had to, and, he though, he would just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

 

“But what if it doesn’t work?”  Wufei was not so easily swayed.  His  scepticism was palpable but Treize waded through it.

 

“It will work.”  He stated categorically. “I will stay with you the whole time.  My face will be the last thing you see when you go under and the first thing you see when you come round.”

 

“Will you stay with me during the operation?”  Wufei asked timidly. 

 

“Of course, if that’s what you want.”  Treize replied, encouraged by Wufei’s apparent acceptance of the situation.  He spoke with an airy insouciance, but his heart chilled at the prospect.  Treize might have been a warmonger in his youth, but that was a long time ago.  Now, even the mere thought of bloodshed made him blanche.

 

“Good.”  Wufei nodded.  Then suddenly doubtful, he asked, “What if they won’t let you stay?” 

 

“They will.”  Treize assured him.  “I will be with you the whole time and everything will be okay.  And then when you are all better, we will go to Dr Scrivener for the laser surgery, and then you will be able to see me without these.”  He tapped the frame of Wufei’s spectacles lightly with his finger.  Wufei laughed again.

 

“I can’t wait.”  He said.

 

 

 

After a few dances and some time spent dutifully mingling with other guests, Quatre and Trowa returned to their table to find Heero, Duo, Treize and Wufei all seated round the table, sipping champagne and chatting together amiably.  As they took their seats Treize summoned a passing waiter and with a languid flick of his wrist ordered a glass of champagne for each of the new arrivals.  All of this he accomplished without uttering a single word.

 

“Hey Q, Tro, you guys, guess what…”  Duo launched into an animated resume of his and Heero’s discussion in the rose arbour.  When he had heard the gist of the story, Trowa left Quatre to smother Duo with hugs of congratulation, and turned to Wufei and Treize. 

 

“Is everything okay?”  He asked.  Wufei looked up at Treize and nodded.

 

“Everything is fine.”  Trieze confirmed.  “I am going to make the arrangements tomorrow.  And now,” He said loudly, rising from his seat, “I would like to propose a toast.  ‘To Friends!’”  He said, raising his crystal champagne flute.

“To Friends!”  The other five repeated in unison, rising to their feet and raising their glasses in response.  They each took a sip of the sparkling wine and smiled at each other.

 

Yes, Trowa nodded to himself, it had been a very good evening, and it had just got better.  He idly wondered whether a costume ball might be an idea for next year.

 

 

(1) – Reference to a previous story ‘Two Components’