The sun shone softly in the park, fresh dew glimmering in the light.  It was early in the morning yet, but a certain fine-haired pilot had much too much on his mind for rest.  There had been talk of peace treaties the day before, which is why he and his fellow pilots had no mission.  But would it last?

    Quatre sighed, and leaned against his gundam. 

I wish you could tell me Sandrock.  Tell me that it's all going to end.  But how can it?  Not long ago it seemed, the White Fang had begun their attack against Romefeller.  Things did seem to be calming in subtle ways, yet there was always a nagging fear at the back of his mind.  At this point, Quatre simply wanted a government; no longer caring who ruled, just wanting peace.   They were all nineteen now.  Four years they had all fought, and for what?  Perhaps his father was right, Gundams could not bring peace.  But what else could?  How would peace ever be achieved?  People were getting reckless.

"Quatre?"

    Turning, the Arabian found his lover walking up to him.  Draining some of his inward stress, he allowed himself a small smile.   Trowa always noticed when the bed seemed the slightest bit cooler than usual.

"Quatre, what are you doing out here?"

"Thinking," he answered softly, "I couldn't sleep."

    Trowa gave him a knowing look. "You're worried again aren't you?"  When there was no answer, the tall man sat next to the blond, wrapping an arm around slender shoulders.

Sighing, Quatre leaned against his love.  "Will this war ever end?" he mused.

    "The age old question again, love?  Don't rack your brain over such things; no war lasts an eternity."

    He knew what Trowa was saying.  It may not be ended soon, but it will end.  Despite this, he knew, there was no indication that they would live past the war.  Why couldn't the colonies see?  Why couldn't they get past these old arguments that consume them so?  Why was Trowa picking him up and carrying him?

"Trowa?"

 "You're freezing, Quatre.  We're going inside."

    Quatre groaned.  There were good and bad things about being the smaller one; this was definitely one of the bad.  Or perhaps it isn't? Quatre mused as he snuggled back against his lover?s chest.  Trowa had gotten really muscular over the years.  And he felt so warm?

    The uni-banged pilot chuckled over his love's new state, rubbing his back more to keep him from being cold.  It seemed amazing to him that Quatre could be calmed so easily.  He was almost like a kitten; give enough attention, and he would snuggle up against you.

    As he shut the door to their room, he heard some of the others starting to wake up.  It was now 5:00; time for Heero to check for missions, Wufei to practice Katas, and for Duo to keep sleeping until noon.   Quatre obviously hadn't gotten much sleep, so he would be laid down in their bed.

    As soon as Trowa began to pull his arm away, he was rolled onto the bed and wrapped around.  Smirking slightly, he reminded himself that Quatre was stronger than he seemed.  With a softer smile, now, he pulled the covers over them, and held his lover against him.

    Once Quatre's shivering had stopped, Trowa relaxed his grip.  He soon found himself staring down into large aquamarine eyes.  Feeling the intensity of those eyes, he cocked his head; in his own way asking why he was being looked at in such a manner.

    The Arabian smiled a genuine smile, and hugged his lover closer.  "Trowa, there are times when I think that you are the true holder of my sanity."

 "What makes you say that?"

    "You always seem to know exactly what to do.  You take me away from the pain I cause myself. How do you manage to do that?"

    Trowa's lips twitched into what only those who knew him would call a smile.  "I know you well, my love.  You've saved me from myself many a day."

 "Would you say that I keep your sanity as well?"

 "I would."

 Quatre smiled against Trowa's chest,  "Guess we're even then." 

"Trowa?"

 "Aa?"

 "If the war does end, and we live, would you stay with me?"

 "Forever."

 "Trowa"

 "Aa?"

 "I love you."

    Trowa smiled slightly, looking peacefully down at the shorter man in his embrace.  "I love you too, Quatre," he whispered back.  Just as he finished that statement, the blond was asleep: a content look resting on his face.  So cute when he's sleepy.

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    Duo lay restlessly on the bed.  Once in a while, his gaze would fall on the stoic man before him.  Heero still seemed frantic to get some kind of message.  Living without the war would be harder for that man than he'd thought.

    Swinging his braid back over his shoulder, Duo hopped next to him, flinging his arms around Heero's neck.  "Come on, koi.  We've got some free time; the least you can do is enjoy it!"

    Heero grunted.  "Just because you think that we've got time off doesn't mean that we should allow ourselves to get behind. Missions come first."

    "There aren't any missions, perfect solder!  Come on; get off of there.  The galaxy is still in peace-talk mode!"

    "Something could come at any minute still. The scientists are the ones who have direct control over us."

    Duo crossed his arms and sighed.  "I'm not going to let this chance slip away, Heero.  If not for these breaks, I?d go insane, and I'm pretty sure that you would too.  Hell, maybe you are already insane. Please just come outside with me."

     Heero was about to say no, but couldn't at the look on Duo's face.  The American seemed quite determined, though he wasn't quite sure why.

    The braided pilot soon bounded happily through the house, followed shortly by the usually stoic man, who was wearing a slight smirk.

    Wufei looked up from his staff long enough to see Heero chasing Duo with a glint of mischief in his eye.  Not able to decide whether to laugh, or shudder, the Chinese man simply went back to what he was doing.  It was strange how they'd all formed their relationships during the past six years.  He wondered faintly what they would all do if the war were over.  Would they forget the past? Forget each other?

    Shuttering, the Chinese man put his weapons away, deciding that he's had enough practice for one day.  The thought of forgetting was most disturbing to him.  Before his teammates had coaxed him out of his shell, he'd been so lonely.  Never would Wufei go back to that feeling willingly.  He would not be dead to the world again.

    With that final determined thought, Wufei went to his room in the safe house and meditated without disturbance?

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    "Wufei!  Hey Wu-man, come out and play!"  Duo knocked on the man?s door rapidly until finally his calls were answered.

 "Duo.  What do you want?" A slightly irritated voice sounded.

    The longhaired pilot came in, letting the child-like attitude drop.  Kneeling beside Wufei, he fixed the man with a slight smile.  "Why are you sitting here all alone, Wufei?"  Smirking slightly, Duo leaned in closer, "We've got games and stuff you can play with us."

    Wufei simply sat, not reacting to the joke at all.  He knew after these years to hear some undertones in his voice.  He was worried.  Sighing, he decided to humor Duo and talk.

 "I've been contemplating possibilities of the war being over.?

 "And?"  Duo asked, quietly urging him on.

    "I'm afraid that we're all going to forget each other."  Sighing slightly, he forced his deeper emotions to come out.  I'm afraid of being left on my own again."

    Duo smiled gently and came to kneel beside him. He understood what it was to feel alone; during his childhood he was nothing but a street rat, and throughout most the war a mask was firmly in place.  Now, still, he wore masks, but more for others than himself.

    "I understand how you feel, but in order for you to be alone, people have to start pulling away.  I, for one, have no desire for such a thing.  We've all become very close these past years.  No one wants to give that up."

    "Quatre and Trowa will stay together, as will you and Heero.  Of that much, I'm certain."  Wufei let out a deep sigh,  "I suppose that I'm beginning to feel as though I don't belong."

Duo's eye narrowed a tad, "Wufei, do we ignore you?"

 "no."

    "Do we act angry or annoyed by the fact that you're here?  Do we not talk to you?  Do we not give friendship?"

 Wufei stammered, "I..I never said?"

     Duo held up a hand silencing him.  Slowly, he took his friend's hand in his own, and met his ebony-colored eyes.  "You are like a brother to all of us, Wufei.  As dear as any other part of this screwed-up little family?" Violet eyes hinted at humor before continuing and a serious heart-to-heart tone.  "No one, and I repeat, no one, is going to leave you behind."

    The Chinese man was lost for words, as he felt himself being let into a reassuring embrace.  Finally he squeezed Duo's arm, and relaxed into his friend's hug.  Finally, he sat up, his eyes filled with subtle humor as he smirked and said simply, "Let go of me Maxwell."

    Duo laughed at the impression of Wufei's teenage self, and led the man towards the fun.  Then and there, Duo decided he would have to reassure his friend, and pay him a bit more heed.  This group was going to stay together even after the war; he'd make sure of it.