Warnings: shounen ai

Disclaimer: Well, I don't own any of the Gundam Wing characters, and I don't make any money off of this piece of fiction. Please forgive a poor fic writer her transgressions and just enjoy the fic! The song Somewhere O ut There is from An American Tail, and does not belong to me either. Any fl ames will be turned over to Yukio, my GW muse. He's been wanting to roast that lawyer who was bothering me last week. Arigato for reading!

At the pilots' safehouse:

Trowa paced silently in Heero and Duo's room while Heero typed furiously at his laptop. Duo was sittin on one of the beds, playing with his braid while Wufei sat beside Duo. Duo watched Trowa go back and forth, back and forth. back and forth until he finally tired of it. Standing up, he moved to stand bedside Heero and drpaed an arm over the intent boy's shoulders.

"Heero, what exactly are you doing?" he asked, a cheerful grin splitting his face. Heero sighed. This had been one of many interruptions by a bored Duo.

"I am checking for maps of the area where Quatre was lost that show the currents of surrounding waters. If we can find where the currents lead, we can find the most likely places Quatre will show up," Heero explained. Trowa stopped pacing and looked up.

"What if Quatre drowned?" he asked. "What do we do then?" he demanded. Wufei jumped up and moved to Trowa's side.

"Trowa, try not to worry yourself too much. Quatre may seem fragile but he's tougher than he looks. He couldn't be a Gundam pilot otherwise," Wufei said. "Have faith in him and let Heero work."

Trowa let out a shuddering breath and nodded slowly. Then the sound of typing stopped. All eyes turned to Heero and his laptop. On the screen was a map with arrows showing the various currents of the area. Heero studied the map for a few seconds.

"According to these currents, there are only two places where Quatre could possibly end up," he said. He pointed to two islands approximately the same size. "Two islands, one called Gatale and another Artona. We can split up into teams of two and check both of them out." Heero held up his hand as Trowa turned to the door. "However, we should wait until morning before heading out; it's going to be past dark before we reach the islands, and it's not safe to go boating in unfamiliar waters in the dark," he explained.

Even Trowa, as impatient as he was, had to concede that the delay was necessary. The four of them prepared that night for the mission they would start the next morning. Duo and Heero would take a boat to Gatale, while Trowa and Wufei were to take another boat to Artona. Trowa got into bed that night praying Quatre was sleeping somewhere safe and comfortable.

Quatre woke the next morning with sunlight streaming through the open window. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and pushed the cover off himself, pulling up one sleeves of Con's nightshirt that had fallen over his hand. When he looked over to the hammock in the middle of the room, he saw that Con was all ready out of the cabin. Quatre quickly pulled cotton pants on and removed the nightshirt, replacing it with the faded gray shirt he had chosen the day before. The blonde pilot stretched and moved towards the door of the cabin. Before he could leave, Con entered the doorway.

"Morning, Quatre!" he said, bright-eyed and energetic. Quatre smiled back, still slightly sleepy. "I'm going to go beachcombing now. I've got lunch with me, so you'll be eating alone. I'll be back by dinnertime, though," Con assured him. Quatre tried to finger-comb his pale hair into some semblence of order while answering.

"I hope you have a good day," he said, waving goodbye to Con as the older boy left. Quatre laughed a little to himself at the domestic feel of the scene. His laughter quieted as he imagined himself and Trowa doing this, being with one another, each knowing that they would see the other at the end of the day. Quatre sighed, a little depressed. He wasn't sure if Trowa felt anything stronly enough for him to warrant daydreaming about domestic bliss. Squaring his shoulders, Quatre shook himself mentally. Con's cabin wasn't going to watch itself!

The Arabian set about straightening up the cabin, putting dished into a small sink, making his bed, and cleaning up the floor. Then he walked outside to the back of the cabin to take down the clothes on the line. Folding them all into a basket, Quatre lugged his load outside, setting it down on the floor while he figured out what drawers the clothes went into. Upon opening the top drawer of Con's dresser, he found a framed picture almost on the bottom.

The picture showed Con with his arm around a slightly shorter boy, both smiling and laughing. The shorter boy had dark blonde hair and brown eyes, and was looking at Con with such a loving expression, that Quatre almost felt envious at the love he was sure Con had recieved. The date on it showed that it had been taked a few months prior to Quatre's meetin of Con. The blonde wondered where this boy was, why he hadn't been around. Quatre decided to ask Con when he came home. Until then, he cleaned.

When he had taken the rug outside to shake it out, he heard voices. It wan't long before he saw two boys, several years older than him, come around a bend of beach, chatting away. One was tall with light brown hair, while the shorter one had a head of fiery red hair. When they saw him, both stopped talking and walked over.

"Well," the taller one exclaimed. "So Con found himseld a new one! It's about ime, he was getting depresseding, not wanting to see us or anybody for that matter." He grinned. "Oh, I forgot to introduce us. I'm Rimbo and this is Lambert," he said, pointing to the red-haired boy beside him. Lambert who had been staring at Quatre for some time, finally noticed what the blonde boy was doing.

"Oh, you do housework, too"? he grinnned. "Con sure has gotten lucky. Not only are you a pretty boy, you clean!" he laughed. Quatre tried hard not to blush at this remark He wasn't sure he liked these boys, althought they seemed to be friends of Con's. Rimbo spoke again.

"So, what's your name?" he asked. Quatre did blush, then.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Where are my manners? My name is Quatre Rebarba oWinner," he told them. Rimbo's eyebrow rose, but he didn't say anything. Lambert grinned.

"Quatre," he said. "That's a really neat name." Quatr smiled warmly.

"Thank you," he said. Rimbo grabbed Lambert's arm and pulled on him slightly.

"Well, Quatre, we have to go, but it's been nice meeting you. Tell Con that we're hoping to see him soon at the meeting!" he called. Quatre nodded. He walked back into the cabin, puzzling over the cryptic remark.

Lambert tried to pull out of rimbo's grasp.

"What did you do that for?" he practically whined. "I was in the middle of really scoping him out." Rimbo shook his arm.

"Didn't you recognize the name? The kid is one of the richest guys on the planet!" he barked, letting go. Lambert rubbed his arm. Then his eyes lit up.

"What a package! Cute and rich to boot!" he said, eyes gleaming. Rimbo snorted.

"Use your brain, half-wit. If we can get him, then we could get ransom money, so much money that it would make your head spin. We'd never have to pull another raid again!" he told the shorter boy. His expression grew cunning. "No wonder Con didn't tell us about his new boyfriend. He was probably planning on cashing in himself." Lambert's barin finally processed what Rimbo had told him, and grinned in sudden understanding. Rimbo grinned back, and they hurried away, already planning.

Quatre was sitting on the sand, waiting for Con when the older boy came back. Con smiled and greeted the smaller boy.

"Hi Quatre! How'd your day go?" he asked. Quatre hesitated a little, Con noticed. "What's wrong?" The blonde boy stood up, brushing a few grains of sand off his pants.

"Well, a couple of your friends stopped by," he said. He missed the expression on Con's, one of concern. "They said their anmes were Rimbo and Lambert. They asked me to tell you that they're hoping to see you at the next meeting. They seemed okay, but," Quatre shruggrf. Con spoke then, his voice low.

"Quatre, you should stay away from those guys. They're no good," he said, Quatre looked the taller boy in the eyes.

"They seemed to thonk that I was your boyfriend," he said. "They said it was about time. Did you lose someone?" he asked, his eyes full of compassion. Con turned away.

"I had someone special, but it ended rather suddenly," he said, his voice trmebling slightly. Quatre placed a hand on Con's arm.

"Was it the guy in the picture you have in your drawer?" he asked. Con whipped around, his expression stunned. Quatre hurriedly explained. "I wasn't prying, I was just putting away some clothes. You two seemed so happy; so what haapened?" he asked. Con sighed.

"Dorian and I were really close, so close we cometimes knew what the other was thinking. He was the adventurous type, always wanting to do exciting things, while I was content to stay here on the beach. Rimbo and his gang convinced Dorian that it would really be cool to go on a raid. These raids are for the sole purpose of stealing stuff from smugglers," Con shook his head. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he said I was too domestic, and that I should lighten up. When Rimbo and the others came back, they said that Dorian had caught a stray bullet." Con's shoulders shook slightly. "He hadn't made it. But Rimbo was sure proud of the drugs they had gotten. He made quite a bundle off of Forian's blood," he spat.

Quatre bowed his head in sympathy. Con's fists were clenched as he spoke again. "Rimbo tries to get me to join in the raids, but I always refuse. I don't know why he persists because he knows I don't approve of them, and he also knows I don't like him and his group." Con slumped a little, but when he looked up, he was smiling slightly. "Was that enough of an explanation?" Quatre felt his heart go out to the older boy.

"I'm very sorry for your pain," he said. "There is someone special in my life, and I don't know what I would do if I lost him." Con smiled.

"Come on, Quatre. Let's get some dinner," he said. "And Quare?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for understanding." Quatre flashed him a warm smile.

"What else are friends for, Con?" They both went into the cabin.

Later that evening, Quatre took a walk on the beach. The moon was full, washing everything in a pale light that made the nighttime seem magical. The Arabian sat down onto the still warm sand and thought about Trowa. He wondered where the tall pilot was. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. He remebered a song he had heard one time, a short song that made him think of how much he missed the green-eyed boy. Closing his eyes, Quatre began to sing.

"Somewhere ou there
Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me
And loving me tonight."

Con stretched and looked outside. Going for a walk did sound like a good idea. He stepped outside and walked along the beach in the same direction Quatre had. He paused momentarily as he heard someone singing, then recognized the voice. The taller boy smiled. It was a lovely song, and Con suspected the blonde youth was thinking of his special person right now. He came upon Quatre as Quatre was getting close to the end. He saw a shadowy figure beyond his friend, and tensed slightly. Then he heard the figure speak.

Trowa and Wufei's boat beached in a small bay on Artona. They pulled it above the tide-line and looked around. Wufei put his hands on his hips.

"Well, I guess we should split up. You go one way, and I'll go another," he told Trowa. "It's getting dark, that we'll search for about five minute; if we don't find anything, we'll return here and start again in the morning. If one of us hasn't returned to the boat after ten minutes, that means they must have found something. Agreed?"

The quiet boy nodded and they went opposite ways. Trowa walked for almost five minutes, breathing in the warm air. He was about to turn around and fo back when he heard a sound in the breeze, coming from not too far away. It was someone singing.

Somewhere out there
Someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another
In that big somewhere out there

Trowa hurried in the direction of the voice, a voice he knew very well.

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star
And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping inderneath the same big sky

Trowa stopped as he saw a fair-skinned boy with pale hair sitting in the moonlight, his loose clothing not hiding the bauty of the slender body underneath. Before he could stop himslef, he spoke.

"Quatre." The wrod was not spoken loudly, but the blonde's head shot up.

As Quatre was finishing the song, a soft voice spoke his name. Quatre's head up in instant recognition. Could it be? His eyes pinpointed the figure a short distance away, and he was on his feet in an instant. He stayed where he was for a few momensts. Trowa made no move, but looked at him with hungry eyes, as if he was trying to memorize what the blonde pilot looked like. Quatre smiled, a flash of warmth that went straight to the taller pilot's heart.

"Trowa!" he cried, running towards the other boy and throwing his arms arounf the taller pilot's waist. Trowa gave a small smile and placed his own arms around the smallre boy's shoulders. Con watched from the shadows, a smile on his face. This must be Quatre's special person. He stepped towards the embracing couple.

"Well, Quatre, would you care to introduce me to your friend?" he said, a friendly smile on his face. The boy Quatre was hugging jerked and looked at him. Quatre turned around, a slight blush on his face, holding onto the taller boy's hand.

"Con, this is Trowa, Trowa, Connor Freeman, also known as Con," he said. Con nodded his head in greeting, the smile still on his face. Trowa regarded him with some suspicion. but nodded his head in return.

In the nearby trees, two pairs of eyes watched the three boys. Moonlight glinted off two gun barrels held ready. A hand rose and counted down three, two, one, then the figures jumped out of their concealment and aimed their guns at the three on the beach. In the moonlight stood rimbo and Lambert. Con's eyes narrowed.

"Why are you guys here, and what do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice angry. Lambert smirked.

"We're gonna take your little friend here," he said, pointing at Quatre. Trowa's hand tightened around Quatre's. "We're gonna ask for ransom and be really welathy," he sneered. Con groaned inwardly. Damn, they had figured out who Quatre was! trowa moved forward suddenly and Rimbo sent a bullet into the sand by his feet. Trowa froze, eyes never wavering from the older boy.

Down the beach, Wufei had reached the boat and, not seeing Trowa there, walked in the directon the taller pilot had taken. Suddenly a familiar sound made his sensed go on full alert. It was the sound of a gunshot. He started running.

Rimbo smirked at Trowa.

"Don't think of playin hero. or you'll get an extra eye in your forehead next time," he said smugly. Trowa's eyes were two emerals fires, seething at the two who were going to take Quatre. Rimbo was cocky, secure in his knowledge that the other boys weren't armed.

"Well, we don't need you guys," he said, pointing his gun at Con and Trowa. "So we'll just handicap you a bit to keep you from following," he finished, pointing his gun at Con, who tensed and prepared to dive out of the way. A yell from his right made Rimbo pause, and a figure clad in white barreled into the older boy, grabbing hold of the gun.

Lambert, distracted, turned towards Rimbo, and Con sprinted into action, springing at the redhead and punching him, grabbing the gun. The struggle between the unknown boy and Rimbo continued. The gun went off, and the white-clad figure swung a roundhouse, knocking Rimbo to the sand and sending the gun flying. Quatre smiled happily.

"Wufei!" he exclaimes, stepping towards their saviour. His smile faltered when Wufei suddenly dropped to his knees, his hand clutching at his left shoulder. The bright moonlight revealed a dark liquid seeping from between his fingers, a dark stain blossoming on the white cloth of his tunic. Con rushed forward and caught him before he could fall to the sand, wincing in sympathy as he saw the pain on the Chinese boy's features. When con picked up the wounded pilot, his eyes snapped open.

"Unh. I don't need to be carried," he said. "My arms was hurt, not my legs." Con grinned.

"Well, your legs don't seem to be steady either, so I'm just being a nice guy," he said. "It's not too far to my cabin. We'll get you there and take care of your shoulder," he finished. Wufei sighed, looking a little upset. Quatre smiled. He saw the Chinese pilot sneak a glance at the older boy, and did not miss the look in his eyes. Wufei was definately interested. Quatre's smile got a little wider. Maybe it would be fun to play matchmaker.

Con looked down at the Chinese boy in his arms. Even with his face tight from pain, the Chinese boy was quite beautiful, with exotic, slanted raven-black eyes, silky hair to match, and caramel skin. He wouldn't mind getting to know the boy who had saved his life.