Rating: PG-13
Finished: 4-12-07
Disclaimer: *Sigh* If only they were mine...if only.
Notes: This is the third companion to "Wishing on a Memory" and "Colored Glass."
He is a shadow. I know it doesn't seem possible for a person to be a shadow, but he is. I mean, between his sunny blond Quatre, who easily fends off reporters and gossip-mongers with kind smile and a pleasant demeanor, it's his trio of coworkers, who won't let any of us forget they're lovers all. Duo and Heero fucking on the copier, Heero and Wufei shocking a secretary by being caught making out in the office they share, Wufei tearing after Duo, who surprised him with a public kiss, while Heero covered his mouth to hide his laughter at the pair.
With all of them to notice, who could help but miss "The Fifth Gundam Pilot" as he was known by people who admire the quintet. "Agent Earth" is his name to the people who respect him for his work and "Une's pet" was only said by people who would not speak to him if they had any choice in the matter, and are still not as good at their jobs as he is.
I know his name. It's a nice name to go with a nice man. I wouldn't have bothered to learn it, but one day I noticed him sitting almost ignored in the breakroom as I edged away from a couple having a noisy break-up. I had come in for coffee, and they had nearly taken my head off. I don't think they ever noticed him sitting there, calmly sipping his coffee, and I never had the courage to ask.
I started watching him more closely after that, and I quickly realized that it was like that everywhere he went. He was there, but noone really seemed to notice him. I noticed him. I spent five months noticing him. Now that I was looking for him, I noticed him everywhere. There was very little he did not hear or see. It was vaguely frightening to realize that even though he was on our side, he was spying on everyone he could.
I spoke to him about a month after this shocking revelation. It was following a mission that had gone to hell: We had to come in and rescue the lot of them. They looked so banged up that I left my co-pilot's seat to see if I could do anything. Wufei was bitching that his wounds weren't as bad as they were and Duo and Heero tag-teamed him into letting himself be treated while they pretended the same thing, and Quatre flitted, unhurt by battle, amongst them, treating whatever was bleeding the most.
He was looking at me, firmly pressing bloody gauze to his left arm. He seemed to have seperated himself from the others and was untended, so I went over to see if he needed anything. He knew what I was coming over to do and held up some bandages. His arm needed to be wrapped, and while it could be done one-handed, I knew from experience that it was a pain in the ass. So I disinfected, then wrapped his arm. When I looked up, I almost had to check that I hadn't died myself. It only took a half-second for the thought that angels didn't usually have blood-streaked hair to occur to me. I later figured out that he'd gotten blood on his hand, and then his hair had irritated him, so he shoved it back with his bloody hand, the blood making it stay where it was.
In that moment, I truly couldn't understand how anyone could have overlooked him. He was beautiful. Large green eyes that looked just a shade short of too big for a face that was just this side of delicate, a firm jawline that looked like a tiny nudge would make it too harsh for the face and his mouth! Dear heaven, that delicate, soft-looking mouth! I'm not usually one to look at men's mouths; the hair is more attractive to me, but his was worthy of looking at. His mouth moved, and I realized I had been staring, my eyes leaping to meet his. One auburn brow arched, and the opposite corner of his mouth quirked up. He was laughing at me, and I blushed, well-aware that I deserved it.
"Why have you been watching me, Miss Cadley?" I was shocked twice over: once by the rolling timbre of his voice, and twice by the fact that he knew my name. I took it in stride and gave him a slightly sour look, "If you call me Miss Cadley again, I'm gonna call you Mr. Barton and if you keep it up after that, I'll make faces at you." I made one to emphasize my point. It was childish, but it's not like I could threaten him. I'd seen him spar, and what he does while holding back with his friends could already kill me. I was not gonna provoke him into not holding back with me. No, thank you.
I could see amusement in his eyes, and he inclined his head, "I prefer Trowa, myself." His expression sobered and I knew no amount of joking could keep him from getting his answers. This was the same man who could wring answers from Duo in a playful mood, for goodness sake! "Darianna, why have you been watching me for the last six months?" No, I'm not that obvious, he's just that good.
I looked down at the floor through my legs. I was sitting in front of him, Indian-style, and could see a patch of metal below me. I stared at that patch as though it held the answers to the universe, then finally said, "I'm just wondering why does someone who knows and understands so much allow themself to be ignored. How does someone who's been invisible so long become visible?" I looked up at him, having worked out what I was asking. He was looking at the others pilots and was silent for a very long time. Finally, he answered without looking at me.
"I don't know, because I'm not invisible anymore."
His answer took me aback. He wasn't invisible? I would have asked him about that, but Quatre meandered his way over to us, and struck up polite conversation. You can't not talk to Quatre. It's like a mortal sin, right up there with kicking babies and talking in movie theaters. So I talked to Quatre and later, alone, I pondered his answer. It took me a month to figure it out, but I think I've finally got it.
Trowa Barton is a shadow, and he's happy that way. Who am I to interfere with happiness?