I know, I promised I wouldn't take so long with chapters. But I had a really busy summer! That, and I've taken to writing Yu-Yu Hakusho stuff lately. Mmm, Kurama. Anyways, to make up for my serious drought over here in the land of the Gundams, this chapter is extra-long. Grab a sandwich, it might take a while.

Last Time: The gang came up with a great and top-secret plan for getting the guys together. Too bad Trowa found out.

++

"Trowa doesn't what? And what plan?" a suspicious but friendly-sounding baritone asked, voice thick with an Italian accent. Lia stared up through her dark bangs at a pair of mildly amused, inquisitive green eyes and the cutest smirk she had ever seen as one Trowa Barton stepped out of the doorway he'd been lurking in, one of the art rooms. Two words came to mind for the Chinese boy and the girl of Irish, Armenian, and Canadian descent.

            "Oh shit."

Lia clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes as wide as they could humanly go. Wufei turned an unusual shade of maroon, balling up his fists as though he were ready to thoroughly wallop the girl.

            "Kisama, can't you keep your big mouth shut for once, you goddamn onna?!"

She whipped back her hand, slapping the black-haired boy in the forearm as hard as she could. Finger-shaped red marks blossomed on his fair skin.

            "Me?! You're just as guilty, jackass!"

            "Well, you were the one who brought it up in the first place!"

            "Only because I didn't think Trowa would be standing right there! You could have said something, you know!"

            "I didn't know he was there either, bitch!"

Trowa cleared his throat, though the sound was lost in the din caused by the five-minute bell buzzing overhead. He wasn't quite sure why Lia and Wufei were screaming at each other, or really what they had been talking about.

            "I am still standing here," he announced after a few moments more of their bickering. Two dark-eyed glares impaled him against the wall. "And I want to know what is going on."

Wufei sighed. "Dorothy's going to murder us."

            "I dunno, maybe it's better if we told him. That way if this doesn't work out, then we haven't made complete idiots out of ourselves."

            "Oddly enough, onna, I concur. But if we don't get going, we'll be tardy, and I do not want such an indignity tarnishing my perfect record."

Lia rolled her eyes and made faces at him from behind her back. Trowa chuckled at her.

            "Okay, Trowa, 'Fei and I have to get to class, but I promise a full explanation. Meet me here at the end of the period, we can talk on our way to Latin."

Trowa nodded. "Agreed. And you had better tell me."

++

            Ninety minutes flew by faster than Lia had hoped. She'd been praying for the past thirty-five that something would happen to delay the period, anything. Bomb scare, water main break, fight, rampaging farm animals…and then when that didn't seem to come about any time soon she started praying for the absolutely absurd.

            "Please, please let demons come and wreak havoc upon our hallways. Or Godzilla…just so long as I don't have to talk to Trowa."

            No dice. Sure enough, he was standing outside the classroom at the end of the period, trying to rub off the charcoal streaked across his palms. He smiled, falling into step with her as they weaved through the flow of the greater student body.

            "You are going to start talking now, right?"

She gulped. "All right, but you have to swear not to tell Quatre. I'm serious, Trowa. You tell Quatre, and you're going back to Italy in a tuna fish can."

            "I won't tell him."

            "All right. So, um, what do you think about Quatre?" the brown-haired girl asked nervously, fiddling with a backpack strap. "Don't freak on me or anything, but everybody knows you kissed him the other night."

            "I would be insulted if you had not been told. I like Katore, a great deal. There is nobody at home who is quite like him. He is always so…well…"

            "He's Quatre. That's the only way to describe him. I should know, I had the biggest crush on him a couple of years back. And we're all quite aware of how much Quatre likes you…hell, he's been beating the shit out of himself over it ever since you got here. So…um, since Quatre's too chicken to ask you out, and Relena swears that it's proper form for the American to ask the foreign exchange student out rather than vice-versa, we all put our money together to take you guys out on a surprise disco bowling date. We were hoping that maybe it would be enough to get him to tell you how much he likes you."

            "You…and Wufei and Duo and the others? You have been plotting to send Katore and me on a blind date?" he asked softly.

Lia nodded, sidestepping a large wad of gum in the middle of the floor. "It sounds sneaky and devious and extremely stupid of us, I know, and I'm sorry…but…"

            "Lia, potrei baciarlo…ma non."

She blinked. "Um, no hablo Espanol?"

Trowa laughed, running his hands through his bangs. "I just said that I could kiss you, but I won't. It is a fantastic idea, tell me what I need to do to help out, and I will do it."

            "That's great! Oh, and one more thing. Quatre said you taught him to say something Italian. What'd you teach him?"

He laughed even harder, tears pricking at his visible eye. "I taught him to say that he was in love with me but hasn't told me."

            "You sneaky bastard! That's so mean! I love it. All right, so there's one final planning meeting after school today, in the library courtyard. Meet us there, okay?"

            "Sure. Oh, and Lia? Do we have a vocabulary quiz today?"

Her expression went from one of sheer delight to one of sheer horror in seconds. "SHIT!"

++

            Quatre couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched Trowa walk into Latin with Lia. He knew she'd never try and scoop a crush out from under him…it had happened to her too many times in the past for her to ever think of doing it back to someone. But still…it just didn't sit right with him, the way they were laughing.

            "No, I'm serious! I start making up obnoxious songs when I'm trying to study. It doesn't help me at all, but at least it's more fun that way," she was saying as they stowed their bags under and around their desks.

            "Perhaps I should try that," Trowa replied, sliding out a deck of flashcards and whipping through them quickly. "Good morning, Katore."

He plastered on a bright smile. "Hi Trowa! I haven't seen you much this week. Been busy?"

            "Yes…painting. A lot of painting. The Noventas finally decided to fix up the room I have been staying in, and they decided to paint the walls…so they are not pink, you know? So they have asked me to paint a mural on one of the walls. It has taken up a lot of my time lately. But, ah…" he glanced at Lia, who grinned and gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. "I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night. Lucrezia and Nicki convinced me to go bowling with them, and I was hoping you would come too."

            "Is it just Nicki and Noin?" Quatre asked.

            "Well, and me, and Zechs," Lia piped up. "We haven't heard a lot from anybody else yet, they're checking their social calendars still, I think. I can pick you up on the way. Oh, Hilde, hey, we were just talking about you! You and the menfolk coming bowling tomorrow?"

            Hilde gaped at Lia in horror. This was so not part of the plan. She threw a desperate glance at Sally, who'd just returned from the candy closet.

            "Hey Sally, what's this Lia's talking about? Bowling tomorrow?"

The blonde senior mirrored Hilde's look of incredulity. The plan had just been shot down and killed. Lia glanced at Quatre before exaggeratedly mouthing 'Trowa knows.'

            "Oh, yeah, you didn't hear. Noin's been itching to get all of us together for disco bowling, and I guess she and Nicki are coordinating this little function. Y'know, I'm still trying to herd Wufei into going."

            "So that's what Heero was saying the other day, okay, now I gotcha. I dunno if I'm going either, I thought I might have a babysitting job. Or maybe it's my turn for a Duo-date."

Trant leaned over his desk. "Schbeiker, is he ever going to choose between you and Heero?"

            "Probably not, Trant," she answered. "Hey, which definition are we going with for 'iam?'"

            Latin class came and went, and Quatre had the sneaking suspicion that all of his friends were avoiding him. He was pretty sure he hadn't gotten leprosy overnight, and he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary to singularly piss all of them off. It was strange, and it was starting to bother him. He brushed past the cluster of girls, who were whispering as they stood in their little coven.

            "What was I supposed to do? He heard me and Wufei, so I had to get him in."

Sally nodded. "It's all right, you just threw us for a loop there."

Hilde cocked her head, then rolled it, making disgusting snapping noises as the joints popped. "Oh well. You never were one for covert operations."

            "Just don't let Dorothy kill me, okay?"

Things only got weirder as the day progressed. Wufei was strangely silent, not even bothering to pick a fight with Heero. Duo said absolutely nothing during choir, only shooting sneaky glances to anyone who would meet his eyes. Ms. DePasqua was once again in absentia, leaving the students with a study hall. The girls were all huddled around, laughing and talking about something or other, and the guys were sleeping, for the most part. Quatre leaned over one of the theater chairs, resting his chin on his arms. Trowa was completely oblivious, long legs stretched out, earphones in, CD player cranked on high.

"What're you listening to?"

The brunette didn't move, totally ignoring the question. Quatre frowned.

            "Trowa?"

Nothing. Not even the hint of acknowledgment. The blonde boy sighed heavily and went back to watching the pixilated footage of the school's production of HMS Pinafore. Trowa felt miserable. He could hear Quatre perfectly well, but had to play his part. He was terrible at keeping secrets, and were he to open his mouth, he probably would have confessed to everything. But he had to admit, Quatre looked rather adorable all sulky and brooding.

++

                "All right, let's hurry up and do this," Relena demanded. "I have to meet my tutor in twenty."

Dorothy raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Relena Darlian? Receive help from a tutor? Since when?"

            "Since he was that really hot guy from the cross country team."

Duo shook his head, braid whipping to and fro. "Should have seen that one coming."

The glass door leading from the library to the sunny courtyard opened, and all eyes flew to it. Trowa casually strolled in, letting the door slide shut behind him.

            "Oh God, what's he doing here?" Noin hissed.

Wufei shot a smoldering look across the bench at a certain cowering brunette girl. "Somebody blabbed."

            "Did not! You're equally guilty!"

Heero made a face. "I'd believe that. You have the look of somebody not quite wholly innocent, Chang."

            "Screw you, Yuy."

            "Sorry, I've already got that one covered," Duo retorted.

Zechs stood. "Enough already! This meeting isn't going anywhere! Everyone just sit down and shut up, all right?"

Mouths were instantly shut and those who had not found a place at one of the benches or the table did so quickly.

            "Disco night is tomorrow, so we all need to be sure we know what we're doing," Sally detailed. "Lia, you're picking the guys up, right?"

            "And me," Nicki added, embellishing the 'Gould Sucks' written on her IMP binder. "Trowa's coming over after school tomorrow. We have a score to settle, he and I."

He rolled his eyes. "I beat her once at Dragonball Z Budokai and now she thinks she has to prove something."

            "Good. Somebody invited Quatre, right?" Sally continued. "Did we get an answer?"

Hilde nodded. "He said he would while I was trying to remember the definition of 'metuens.' What does that mean anyways?"

            "Beats the hell out of me. Zechs and Noin, do what you always do…screw around and be completely oblivious to anything else that's going on. Heero, you remember the code, right?"

Duo had a blank look on his face. "Code? What code are we talking about?"

            "Well, we can't just have Nicki calling us in the middle of the date and blatantly saying it's bombing," Dorothy stated. "It's a serious faux pas."

            "If it sucks, she calls and asks for a small, hold the anchovies," Relena said.

Noin spat her gum into a piece of paper. "If things are going well, she calls and asks to preorder a copy of Harry Potter five."

            "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Which one of you idiots came up with that?" Wufei snarled.

Heero glared at him. "I did. Got a problem with it?"

Lia tipped back in her chair, folding her arms behind her head. "Mm, just another day with Heero and Wufei. Who needs an episode of Yu-Yu Hakusho when you can get your daily dose of insults right here?"

            "Ah, what am I to do?" Trowa inquired.

Everyone looked at one another, no one entirely sure how to answer. It was Duo who finally came up with something.

            "Flirt like you've never flirted before, my Italian stallion. Especially while Quatre's bowling. The boy cannot bowl to save all of humanity. Lick bowling balls if you have to! We've come down to the point where if you're not disgustingly and blatantly obvious, then we've proved that Quatre needs Coke bottle thick glasses."

Trowa nodded. He wasn't sure if he could pull something like this off, but he was getting desperate. He needed to know if Quatre really and truly liked him the way all of his friends insisted that he did. And he needed to know fast. Time would tell, he supposed.

++

            Amyra yelled down the stairs Thursday afternoon, completely catching Quatre off guard. "Hey, there's some white shitty grandma car in the driveway!"

He put down his pencil and closed his history book. There was only one person he knew who owned a shitty white car, and she drove a Toyota. Lia came bouncing up to the door, a black Ranma shirt in hand.

            "Hi! Did you see my new car? It's cool if you didn't, you'll be seeing it soon enough. Here, this is for you. You still have those khakis we bought, right?"

Quatre felt his head start spinning. "Mind slowing down, Speed Racer? What are you doing here, and why are you handing me strange t-shirts?"

            "Duh, it's disco bowling night! I've got to help you get ready!"

            "Lia, your younger sister helps you get ready for stuff. Why are you helping me, exactly?"

She slapped her palm to her forehead. "Numbskull! Aren't you forgetting? Trowa's going to be there! You want to look nice for him, don't you?"

He gave her a condescending gaze. "Lia, Trowa would think I looked nice if I was wearing a paper bag."

            "Oh, how quickly we've devolved into not needing me. What happened to begging for my advice? Hmmm?"

            "It got jettisoned, along with my tolerance for humanity. I'm sick of everyone trying to matchmake me with him."

Lia resisted the urge to wince. "Well, at least put the shirt on. Hilde bought it especially for you, and you'd be hurting her feelings if you didn't wear it. And maybe put a little gel in your hair, get it to do that scrunchy tousled thing that looks wicked hot."

            Ten minutes and an eyelash curler later, they were out the door, rattling down the pothole-pocked Route 27 in Lia's new (previously owned, slightly dented, reeking of old lady) Oldsmobile. They swung into a cul-de-sac, smoothly pulling into a driveway.

            "Hey, what's going on?" Nicki asked as she claimed shotgun, Trowa riding in the back with Quatre. "Ready for disco-rama?"

Lia shrugged. "Guess so. Don't think many of us are showing up after all."

            "Their loss."

            Trowa looked his usual jaw-dropping standing-in-a-puddle-of-your-own-drool hot. He managed to pour his tall, lithe figure into a pair of absolutely scandalous Hershey's chocolate brown corduroys, complimenting them with a cowl-neck sweater in lighter khaki, green, and pale pink. All in all, he screamed 'every gay boy's wet dream.' Whereas Quatre was wearing his little black Ranma shirt and the khakis he bought with Lia, which exuded 'trying hard not to look so flamboyant.'

            "Katore," the Italian practically purred. "You look good."

            "Damned if he doesn't smell good, either," Lia muttered to Nicki in the front. "Nicked a little of my dad's best cologne for the occasion. The imported from Bermuda stuff that's like twenty-five bucks for an ounce."

Quatre coughed. "Um, you look…you look incredible."

            "Thanks," he replied, licking his lips. His eyes were practically smoldering. Quatre tried hard not to start panting, feeling his face burning with a blush. 

            Trowa examined his hands. "I still have paint on my fingers. Nicki, how many times would you say I've washed my hands today so far?"

The auburn-haired girl shrugged. "Maybe three, four times. You even used that really good soap that's supposed to take everything plus a layer of skin off, didn't you?"

He nodded, sticking a green-tinged finger in his mouth, trying to suck the paint off. Had Quatre not been securely belted in, he might have fallen over.

            Lia swung the car into a parking space, frowned, backed up, and straightened the behemoth Oldsmobile out. It was still crooked, but it was a better job than the first attempt. "I think I see Zechs' Caddy."

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Who in their right mind gives a teenager a Cadillac?"

            "Your dad," Nicki suggested.

            "He hates Cads. If he even gives me a car when I get my license, it'll be a piece of shit just like my sisters. Probably a used Mercedes, maybe an old Jag."

            "Brat," Lia declared, sticking her tongue out.

            The inside of the Kingston Candlepin was dark, the multicolored strobe lights already flashing, the bass riffs of "Disco Inferno" blaring through the speaker system. The television monitors overhead, rigged for service as scoreboards, were awash with a psychedelic riot of color. Quatre and Trowa made their way up to the counter to pay for their string, but the stringy looking cashier informed them that they were already paid for. Quatre looked to the Italian boy for answers, but he merely shrugged nonchalantly and picked out his shoe size.

            "Aren't you two going to bowl?" the blonde asked the two snickering girls.

Nicki jangled a pocket full of quarters. "Nope. Lia sucks too much at bowling and I've got a date with a claw game."

Lia sighed exaggeratedly. "You know those things are rigged. You're not going to win anything."

            "Hey, there's nothing wrong with trying. Oh, there're Noin and Zechs!"

The two upperclassmen sauntered over, hands in each other's pockets. Noin smiled lazily at the four juniors.

            "Hey you guys, what's going on? Glad somebody decided to come out tonight."

Trowa smirked. "Are you ready to lose, Katore?"

            "I've been ready to lose. I'm sure Nicki's been telling you all afternoon how bad I am at bowling," he replied, requesting a lightweight ball from the sketchy guy behind the counter. Just his luck that the balls only came in Pepto-Bismol pink.

Zechs ruffled Noin's hair with his free hand. "We'll be two lanes down from you guys. I'll be teaching Lucrezia here how to bowl like a man."

            "Bowl like a man, huh? I thought bowling like a man meant losing shamefully to a much superior woman and then trying to save face," she retorted.

Nicki whipped out her lucky John Lennon glasses, fixing them on her nose despite the darkened room. She thrust a hand skyward with enthusiasm.

            "Then let Disco-Bowl 2003 begin!"

++

            Quatre dropped his ball, which was still too heavy despite being touted as lightweight, into the return while he exchanged his sneakers for the clunky bowling shoes. Trowa was casually leaning over the racks, trying to select the appropriate bowling ball. He'd pick one up, hold it, put it down, and repeat the process before going back to the ball he'd held five minutes ago. He finally decided on one that seemed to glow a virulent green and orange under the blacklights.

            "I can never get these stupid scoreboard keypads to work right," the blue-eyed boy groused, violently jamming his thumb against the screen of the touch-activated monitor. It took five minutes just to enter their names, but eventually the scoreboard was set and Trowa was easily striding up the parquet just as the BeeGees started playing overhead. The lights went wild, strobing for all they were worth.

            "And here we go," Trowa murmured to himself, whipping the bowling ball down the lane, watching as it rolled straight and true. It veered to the right at the very end, knocking over all but three pins. He could feel Quatre's stare piercing holes through him. The blonde boy watched in rapt awe as his brunette counterpart stretched his body catlike while waiting for the ball return to spit his ball back out. He threw it again, easily picking up the seven-ten split.

            "Your turn," Trowa informed him as Quatre rose and retrieved his bowling ball.

            "Please don't let it go in the gutter," he whispered, taking aim and letting the very magenta ball fly. It soared in a vicious beeline straight for the gutter, not a single pin tumbling to the parquet. His cheeks burned hot, and he peered over his shoulder at Trowa. He'd been sitting at the scoreboard, tapping his foot to the music, but now stood and walked over.

            "Need help?"

            "I'm sorry, I'm just really bad at bowling. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Trowa shook his head. "No, it's fine, Katore. My sister can't bowl either. I'll show you."

He picked up the fluorescent pink ball and held it easily in one arm, taking Quatre's hand. He slid his lips along the boy's middle and ring fingers, slipping them into the bowling ball's finger holds. Slightly dazed, Quatre took the bowling ball and held it up against his chest. He toed the line, ready to swing his arm back.

            "Keep your arm as straight as you can," Trowa instructed in a low tone, green eyes smoky in the dim light. "It helps if you swing it as close to the ground as possible."

He stood behind and a little to the side of the blonde, mimicking the motion as Quatre drew back his arm, arrow straight. "Take aim, keep your eye on the center." They backed up, took a bit of a running start, thin-soled bowling shoes skidding on the waxed floor as Quatre threw the bowling ball. It sailed clear down the middle, careening into the pins with a thunderous clatter. Every last one of them fell.

            "I did it…" Quatre breathed. "I did it!"

Trowa laughed, running his hand through his hair. "Yes, now keep that up and you might just beat me."

++

            Noin and Zechs glanced up from their game. They weren't really playing, not seriously anyways. More like tossing the ball haphazardly, kissing and fondling while the heavy orbs did their own thing.

            "How do you think it's going over there?" Noin asked, slapping a broad hand away from the collar of her tank top. Zechs gave a careless shrug.

            "Looks fine to me. Thought I saw Trowa licking fingers. Might not be Duo's bowling ball tactic, but whatever works."

Noin nodded, wishing they could be done with this. She would have loved to sneak out to the parking lot and do it in the back of Zechs' Cadillac, but the bowling alley parking lot had plenty of fluorescent overhead lights. Not the most appropriate illumination when one is a teenager trying to get screwed in her boyfriend's car. Best to settle for touch-and-go in a darkened bowling alley.

            "How much longer before they hook up, you think?" she inquired.

Zechs clicked the light on his clunky sport watch. "Mm, give them another half hour."

The senior girl sighed, getting up to toss another bowling ball.

++

            "Anything yet?" Nicki asked, not bothering to look up from the video game in the corner. Lia was kicking the snack machine, trying to get her box of Junior Mints out. The stupid vending machine's metal claws were firmly clutching her prize. She fished for another dollar and decided to get a bag of Reese's Pieces as well, hoping the mints would drop along with it.

            "Trowa's doing a super job. I'd say a few more minutes and Quatre will break. Although, I'm not a very good judge of these things. Maybe you should give that a rest and see for yourself."

Nicki shook her head, clicking buttons like there was no tomorrow. "No way. I'm getting the high score and that's it."

            "Another youth of America corrupted by Ms. Pac Man. We truly are in an era of decline."

Lia watched as her Reese's Pieces got stuck inside the vending machine as well, both candies dangling by mere corners of their packaging. She started banging her head against the glass window.

++

            The game continued, Quatre improving greatly. Trowa, however, got considerably worse as the night progressed. He shrugged it off, laughing.

            "I shouldn't have given away my great bowling secret to you, Katore. Now you have all of my power. I think this means you have to kill me now."

Quatre's eyes went dinner plate wide. "Oh! I couldn't kill you, Trowa! That'd be awful!"

            "I suppose so. Can I get you a drink?" he offered.

            "Um, yeah, sure. A Coke would be great, if you don't mind," he answered, getting up to play his turn. Trowa wandered off to the snack bar, a cocky little grin on his lips.

Quatre finished his round with a seven, which was fairly good considering up until tonight he'd get a two for the entire game. He was just barely ahead of Trowa overall, and they were two away from ending the frame.

            "Wonder what he's up to," he muttered to himself, half-listening to KC and the Sunshine Band. "Trowa's been acting so weird lately."

The Italian boy returned a minute later with a very large paper cup full of Coke and a single straw. He set it down on an empty chair, peeling the paper wrapper from the straw. Quatre eyed it suspiciously.

            "I thought we'd split it," the green-eyed boy explained, "but this was the last straw. You can have it all if you'd like, Katore."

The straw thing was, of course, a lie. There were plenty of straws up there.

He shook his head. "No way, that's huge. What's a little spit between friends?"

            Trowa briefly entertained the thought of doing erotic things with his tongue and the one plastic straw, but decided against it. He was supposed to be flirting, not propositioning. He took a generous sip and handed the sweating cup off, cracking his knuckles as he picked up his bowling ball.

            Quatre fished an ice cube out of the cup and chewed on it nervously. It was bad enough watching Trowa bowl from the chair behind the scoreboard, but from this angle, it was sheer torture. He had a clear view of that gorgeous ass in those tight, sexy corduroys, and it made his whole body twitch, as if he had a short circuit. That did it. No more hesitation. He was asking Trowa out tonight, or else he'd be walking around with a hard-on for the rest of the year.

++

            Five minutes later, they were on the last frame. Trowa had managed to catch up thanks to an ill-thrown ball of Quatre's that landed in the gutter. With a debonair smile and a wink, the Italian pitched his ball and bowled an eight. Quatre needed a spare to tie, a strike to win it. He rose slowly, palms sweating, wishing that the song overhead wasn't "Love to Love You, Baby." Trowa brushed past him on his way to a chair and the half-finished Snickers bar sitting on it.

            "Good luck, Katore," he whispered, running his tongue along the outside edge of the boy's ear. Quatre froze up, nearly dropping his bowling ball on his feet. He managed to stagger his way up to the lane and pitched the ball with a wild throw that seemed destined for the gutter. Ten pins fell and a red X slashed across the screen overhead.

            "I won!" he cried, jumping excitedly. Trowa was grinning, his melting candy forgotten as he stood leaning against the computer desk. Quatre bounced his way over, eyes all aglow with the thrill of finally not sucking at bowling.

            "Congratulations, Katore. You play a good game," the brunette said.

            "So…do I get a prize for winning?" the blue-eyed young man inquired, staring up into those smoky emerald eyes. He chewed on his lower lip. "Hmmm?"

            "What exactly did you want?" Trowa responded, smirking.

Quatre worried his lip a little more. "Could I have you?"

            "Me?"

            "I went on Babelfish last night and had it translate what you taught me. That was very clever of you, Trowa. And I commend you and the girls on your efforts for tonight, it was quite lovely."

Trowa's eyes widened. "You knew?"

            "It's amazing what Dorothy will tell you when she's desperate for a stick of gum."

The Italian boy's expression was that of a landed fish. He'd been played for the fool the whole time. He'd fallen for Quatre's naïve charm, only to be revealed as the naïve one himself. The little bastard.

            "When did you find this out?" he choked out.

            "This afternoon, right before school ended."

Trowa's eyes were smoldering. "So you let me act like a fool this whole time?"

            "You could have just said something," Quatre pointed out.

            "So could have you," the tall young man retorted.

Quatre grabbed his hands, lacing his pale fingers with Trowa's olive ones.

            "I'm saying it now, Trowa. I'm sorry I didn't sooner, I was really nervous. I didn't know what to say until maybe two seconds ago," he admitted. "But I like you, I really like you a lot, Trowa. And I was hoping you'd want to be my boyfriend."

            Trowa said nothing, separating his hands from Quatre's, only to tangle his fingers in the teenager's fine blonde hair, pushing him up against the computer and kissing him hard. Quatre gasped and in that one instant, the brunette slipped his tongue inside, tasting Coke and chocolate and Quatre. Aqua blue eyes welled with warm tears under long lashes as pale, slender hands slid into Trowa's back pockets, tugging him closer. Their mouths meshed perfectly, kissing hungrily as they were consumed in flame.

            Lia, from her vantage point next to a gumball machine, started squealing hysterically. Nicki glanced up from the game console, instantly forgetting it, fumbling for her phone while Ms. Pac Man got eaten by a pink pixilated ghost. She hurriedly turned the thing on, scrolling frantically through her presets before ramming her finger down on a button, bouncing on her feet.

            "Hello, Yuy residence. Sally Po speaking."

            "HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER!"

It was a wonder that anyone else couldn't hear the shrieking emanating from that tiny phone.

            Trowa broke the kiss first, hand still curled in silken gold. He smiled at Quatre, who was all blush and glow, both of them breathing hard.

            "Katore…"

Quatre leaned up and kissed him gently. "No, just don't say anything yet. I want to make sure it's real first."

Trowa matched his kiss, though his was a little more insistent, running his tongue along his lover's lower lip. Lover. The word sent a thrill down his spine. "Oh, it's very real."

++

How hot was that? Whoo! Well, it's about freaking time those two got together. I started writing Allegro partway through my junior year, and now I'm already starting my senior year. Ah well.

Next Time: Homecoming is a week away, and Quatre finally has a reason for going! But will disaster strike beforehand? And what's everybody's reaction now that he's finally hooked up with Trowa?