In all honesty, he hated Trieze Khushrenada for everything that he'd done. He had been too wrapped up in the worlds of grace and beauty, the wonder that he saw war to be, to see this woman before him. She loved him, almost died twice for his ideals and still he did nothing. There was a freak mission where Zechs Merquise had been sent out to rescue her, but did he honestly care if she lived or died? Or would it just mess with his ordeals to have her innocent blood staining his hands.

She never noticed his eyes staring holes into her back. She hadn't noticed them three years ago when she instructed him, put a hand on his shoulder as she explained OZ's computer system. He didn't need her intructions, the computer hopelessly simple. But the pressure of her hand on his shoulder blotted the world away. He only heard her voice. There wasn't a computer or even an OZ.

Three years later, it was painfully obvious to him that he was in love with her. He didn't know why it started when they both were in OZ. He was the evil Gundam pilot that had infiltrated their base of operations. She was the leader of all the men, the supreme commanding officer at that base...but.... "Trowa Barton, have you been keeping secrets from me?"

He blinked, looking her squarely into the eyes, face a mask, "No."

"Then would you like to tell me why you do not resemble this Trowa Barton?" The lights relfected off of her glasses, making her look cold. Chilled. The personality appealed to him, to the warrior. He could accept the coldness and the lack of emotion in her face when she spoke to him. It was part of war, part of battle.

The green eyes closed, a story trying to surface in his mind to explain why he was there instead of the young man who would have been at least twenty, broad and blond with dark eyes. Nothing came to mind. "Trowa Barton, the real Trowa Barton is dead. I merely took his place."

She smiled, a cruel look in her eyes as she inched her fingers ever closer to the call button, "You do understand that it was confirmed that Trowa Barton was to be a member of the Gundam force. Pilot 03, I believe. Interestingly enough, pilot 03 of the surviving Gundam pilots is also missing."

He stood, drawing his gun, "I am pilot 03. Those who have seen me cannot live to tell the story."

Chocolate depths searched his for a searing moment, hand reaching across the desk to push the gun away, "There is no reason to kill me. Master Trieze only wished to clear that up. You may return to your duties."

Trieze again. His fist clenched around the rag as he went back to polishing the bike. He worked for the Preventers just as the rest of the former Gundam pilots, only he'd long given up on the spy missions that Wufei and Heero were so attracted to. They just reminded him of the two women, save his reclaimed sister, that he had ever let into his life. One looked into his life and nearly destroyed it for her family. He had done the same to the other, gained her trust and used it against them as he went to watch over the only family he had, the Gundam Pilots. She nearly died because of this family.

He smiled now when he thought of Midii, not in happiness but just in thankfulness that Nanashi had at last left his life. He was Triton Bloom, or more preferrably (even Cathrine admitted to this. What kind of name is Triton?) Trowa. What ever his first friend was doing with her life now, he wished her well. Yet he was thankful that she had not reappeared in the years after the war. Anne Une was confusing enough in her own way.

There was a squeal of laughter across the way, another mechanic who was supposed to be preparing the cars for the parade in the morning throwing a sponge onto his girlfriend. She threw it back before running over beside him, wide blue eyes sparkling, "This is supposed to be fun, Trowa. Smile a little. Please?"

As Hirde mock pouted, he shook his head. "I don't have anything to smile about."

She groaned, kneeling down and helping him with the motorcycle, face unreadable for a long moment before she cleared her throat, "Are you going to the parade tommorrow?"

"Not my thing." He shrugged, "I thought I'd just stay behind and take care of the carriers for taking these cars back to the Headquaters."

One thin black brow arched, "You are not staying behind. You do, and I'll sign you and Duo up as bunk mates for the thirty city thing Une's lining up."

"You wouldn't. Thirty cities without him? You'd go insane, and so would he." He rubbed the waxing rag over the shining black leather seat.

"You don't know what I'll do to make sure that everyone has a good time. Besides, I want a dance at the after party." There was something hinting in her voice as she draped herself over the bike, looking serenly up at him.

He glanced over at Duo, who seemed to be going over schmatics with Une, his eyes flicking occastionally over to them. He was smiling, violet eyes filled with mirth. He was up to something...and so was she. "Won't Duo kill me for taking a slot away from his groping time?"

"There's twenty dances, and he's got half secured. That's *plenty* of Duo-Maxwell-groping time." Her eyes were hypnotic as she shrugged, "Of course, I could use some one to walk around with Anne tommorrow. She's joining us, me and Duo...And she doesn't have a date."

"Anne?" He frowned, the dread of a blind date all too clear. Quatre had tried several of his sisters on him. And his own sister was notorious for 'fixing' him up with the most...interesting of girls. They were all very nice, very sweet...but they just weren't Une. He sighed once before nodding. "Fine. I'll go with this Anne girl. What's she like?"

"Well..." Hirde flushed a little. "She's really, really nice. She's also six years older than me. She's more Duo's friend than mine though." Six years...Twenty-four. This was why she came to him instead of Quatre. When you're eighteen, the difference between that and twenty four seems like eons. But he was twenty. He could handle her without being stupid and selfconcious and blushing like a beet, something that Quatre seemed to do on every date he'd ever been on.

The girl darted forward again, kissing his cheek, "Meet us at eleven out front. Okay?"

Trowa wasn't *not* having a good time. So far he'd gotten a coral necklace for Cathy and a hat for Quatre. He'd won a white cat for Hirde and a bat for Duo, and was considering giving the purple squid under his arm to Relena when he heard it, "Sorry I'm late..."

As a group, they turned. Mr. Squid was cruelly abandoned to the baking asphalt. She stood in a sleeveless button down shirt, open to reveal a white tank top that barely touched the top of her navel. A pair of blue jeans that ended on her upper calf encased her legs tightly before he brought himself to look in her face. She was staring at him with mirror of how he felt. "Une?"

She nodded, rubbing her arms, "....Trowa?"

Hirde giggled, putting her arms around the two, "Anne, I would like you to meet Triton, who, might I add, is easier to dress down than you." The blue eyes travelled quickly over his open green shirt and blue jeans before she winked. "Sorry for the little mix-up before, Triton. I forgot Anne had something to do with the Preventers."

Une just shook her head, "I don't know why I agreed to this, Duo." There was an underlying pain in her voice, a tremble in her hand. "I should just go."

He blinked twice, scooping the forgotten squid off of the ground and pressing it into her arms, "Une, don't go. There's no reason we can't stay and have fun together."

Her eyes searched his, a small smile, a wistful smile, making it onto her lips, "I can't say I'll be much fun. These really aren't my specialty."

"Come on, Une. Go with Trowa. We're going to have to wait in line on the ferris wheel if you don't make up your mind quickly. He doesn't bite, and he's dead sex--Ow, babe. Stop that." Duo laughed, pushing his own date back. Une's eyes dropped to the ground, but she didn't blush. Silently, Trowa thanked whatever god there was for that. He'd had enough blushing to last him a life time.

"There is only person you are allowed to call dead sexy, Mr. Maxwell. And that's *me*. Got that?" From the corner of his eye, he saw the brown eyes moving over his body. There was an emotion there that he couldn't place mixed with sadness. She still missed Trieze. She felt like she was betraying his memory. Wonderful.

"Sheesh. Now that's I've been thoroughly abused can we go?" Duo raised a brow, smirking at them both as he tried to fend off his lover, holding her wrists. They looked at eachother and shrugged. There was worse that could happen.

"Those two..." Une threw her hands up into the air with exasperation, shaking her head. "I wonder what they're planning for us."

"What do you mean?" He rested against the railing, quirking a brow.

She smiled at him a little, wistfulness lurking in her dark eyes, "They set up Jaom Eroi and Danna Kubiak last month, you know the secretary and the munitions guy that announced their engagement last Thursday. Before that, they were coaxing Heero and Relena to go out on a real date."

Trowa shook his head, "Why am I not surprised? Hirde hates tension in the work place, and Duo loves playing jokes. You think this was a joke of their's?"

Une nodded, "Positive. I mean, we are the perfect couple." Her voice went into a squeaky, nasal tone, face twisted into a mock of astonishment, "They got along so well in OZ. He didn't care that she was some pyscho-bitch with two personalities, and, like, they're both still unnattached from the war."

He nodded, something inside of him tearing. If this was one of the plans those two had cooked up, it wasn't a joke. Knowing them this was their honest attempt in getting them to cheer up. He was too busy sighing and swooning over her to do the most basic work, trying to think of how to get past Trieze. And she was still hung up on that. Trieze. The more he let his mind wander down that path, the more his chest tightened, a pain blossoming in him, the pain of a silent regection. Even if he worked past the Trieze issue, she would never....

"It's not that I wouldn't love to go out sometimes, but there's Mariemaya to think of. I'm her legal gaurdian, and you know how guys are. You tell them that 'Oh, I have a daughter...'" He stared into her eyes, a bemused twinkle in his eye. "Okay...so you don't know."

He looked at her, "Une..."

"This is riduculous. I just...Trowa, it's not you." He cridged a little, putting his hand up.

"It's not you either. It's Trieze. Une...Anne, wouldn't he want you to be happy? It's been three years. Maybe Duo and Hirde were trying to tell you something..." He took her hand into his, eyes locked on her own. "Because if he didn't, he's not worth hanging onto."

There was a moment, her eyes cold before she smiled, nodding, "You're right."

His arms slid around her waist, swaying back and forth to the beat with her. She complied, eyes on his as the music lifted them away from the boat and off onto a different plane, an empty time and space where they were the only two left, "Maybe...some time, we could do this without the prying eyes..." His mouth was near her ear, velvetty soft.

"Of course." She smiled at him, pulling her head back to look him into the eye before smiling and closing the gap between them, her lips warm against his as two sets of eyes glowed in the background.

"I am the master when it comes to this." Her eyes sparkled. "That's three weeks of sex slavin' for you."

He frowned, looking around, "Care to make it again? Double or nothing?" He pointed to a table. At said table sat Noin and Quatre, laughing about some obsecure thing. She cocked a brow, looking back at him.

"You're on." He really made her job too easy.