The Sabintha Stories: Not So Innocent pt. 1: TK/MP #12: How Quatre Found Out
Timeline story #2

By: Your friendly neighborhood pervert, Maureen

Archive(s)
Quiet Reflections: http://www.fablespinner.com/mojo
The Sabintha Archives: http://gundamwing.fanworkrecs.com/Sabintha/index.htm

Pairings: Unknown het couple, 13x6, 3x4, 1x2

Rating: NC-17

Warning: This contains a bit of something that's the closest I'll ever come to writing het smut. And its not very close, trust me. Also, I intentionally made the 13x6 dialogue tripey. This series was also supposed to be a bit humorous (although that got blown out of the water in the 4th part...) Also, not only is Quatre a shameless little hentai, but I let him get drunk as well...

Again, thanks to zOzma and Manon both for the beta work on this. And I changed the spelling of Miri's name just for you ^_~)

View the pic Fablespinner drew for this fic.

At least once a year, generally after New Year's Day, four of the former Gundam pilots would gather for a few days of drinking, reminiscing, and relaxing. They always tried to include Wufei, but he usually brushed off these attempts with gruff good humor.

Today it was Heero's turn to plan the refreshments, and a pile of mostly empty sushi platters and several six-packs worth of empty Kirin cluttered the table. Quatre was sniggering softly to himself as Heero poured another round of warmed sake. Trowa had built a complex tower of chopsticks and cans, which Duo kept trying to demolish.

Quatre tossed back the shot with a soft shout of "Kampai!" and smiled slit-eyed at Duo across the table. Heero snorted and poured them both more of the liquor.

"Hey Cat, how'd you find out about sex?" Duo was bored with deconstruction.

"Huh?" Quatre blinked as Heero refilled his glass. In perfect synchronization, the cups were lifted and drained.

"Slow down there, sake boy! Let's not be seeing any regurgitated sushi around here!" Duo commanded, grabbing the almost empty bottle away from Heero. He downed the remainder, ignoring Quatre's fuzzily giggled protest. "I asked how you found out about sex. You're the only one of us who had anything close to a normal childhood - how do normal kids find out?"

"My sisters showed me..."

"Aw, man - now that's just downright disgusting!"

"No! Not like that!" Quatre snickered. "They showed me vidclips!" Duo looked dubious, Heero was mildly intrigued and Trowa was not in the least bit surprised. After all, he knew Quatre's sisters. "It all started with a betting pool..."

~~~{*}~~~

Quatre practiced his scales with a concentrated diligence well beyond his ten years. He focused his whole being on the steady rise and fall of the notes in an attempt to drown out the rush-hour frantic feeling he got from all his sisters being home at once. Even losing himself in music failed to work, however, as a horde of them battered their way into his study and proceed to wage a battle of taunts and indecipherable insults all around him.

Sabintha, all gypsy skirts and shaggy blonde hair, strode into the eye of the storm and whistled for silence. "I told you fools! There's only one way to settle this - everyone place your bets and then grab the kid and drag him back to my room!" She cut through the throng to approach Quatre herself, wrapped her arm around his shoulders and bent down to consult with him, "Want to watch some movies with a few of us, Quatre?"

"Why?" His sisters usually ignored him. Having a gaggle of them suddenly interested could not be considered a good thing.

"We just need your help deciding which kind of movie is the best!" Sabintha's lips curved into a tight cat's smile. "We need a man's opinion for this, Quatre!" She addressed their sisters. "Okay, bets are an even 500 creds each - winners split the pot equally. Pony up, girls!"

The sisters that cared to put their money behind their convictions each handed over the requisite number of credits, each pronouncing "Is" or "Not" as she did so, which Sabintha dutifully marked down along with the name of the bettor.

"'Is' or 'Not' what, Sabintha?" Quatre asked as the loose group tumbled through the halls to her room.

Gently, she linked her arm through his and confided, "They're concerned about your orientation, Quatre."

"What orientation? I'm not going anywhere but to your room, at the moment. I have no immediate plans for travel of any sort and what does that have to do with movies, anyway?"

His sister provided him with no answers, she was drowned out by cries of "No fair!" and "Sabintha's coaching him!" as they entered her rooms.

The suite was a technophobe's nightmare - a haphazard pile of vid decks were daisy-chained together with a multitude of multicolored wiring, one of the largest video screens in production dominated a side wall, flanked by two floor to ceiling shelves full of vids, and vid-corders and cameras of all shapes, sizes, and states of repair littered a low work table spanning the opposite wall.

With surprising efficiency the sisters, who had just moments ago been squabbling down the house, arranged various couches and chairs in a cozy semi-circle around the vid-screen and managed to scavenge a decent spread of snacks and beverages from Sabintha's hoard of junk food.

Sabintha stood in front of the group, not saying a word, simply staring at the throng as the women changed seats, passed food, and finally settled down. "All right, then. We'll start with a hetero clip -"

"You have hetero in your stash?" Bettina, the sister who had most emphatically declared "Not!" sneered.

"Yes, obviously, or I wouldn't be about to put it in the player, dumbass." There was very little love lost between these two siblings.

"Pervert..." muttered Bettina while the lights dimmed and Sabintha took a spot next to Quatre on the couch centered in front of the screen.

"Now, Quatre-honey, all you have to do is watch this and tell us how it makes you feel..."

"Hey!" Deirdre, one of only three "Is" votes in the group of eight, interrupted. "Are you sure he's old enough for this?"

She was promptly silenced by flying pillows from several angles as the action on the screen started.

The movie began simply enough - a nice-looking man and woman drove along a seaside road and came to a secluded house perched over the roaring surf. The man seemed very solicitous of the woman, even going as far as to carry her, laughing and wiggling, through the front door and directly to a dimly-lit bedroom dominated by an absolutely humongous bed. The woman stopped giggling as soon as she saw the bed. Instead she smiled at her companion wickedly and pushed him down to sit on the edge of it.

Stepping back, she slowly unbuttoned her dress and let it fall away to reveal some of the strangest underwear that Quatre had ever seen, and with as many sisters as he had, that was saying a lot. The garment was lacy and form fitting, covering the woman's abdomen, and it had straps that hooked onto the filmy stockings she wore. But in opposition to everything Quatre knew about bras and other supporting garments, this one ended just below what he thought it should cover the most. The woman's bare breasts were pressed up to spill over the top of the lace edging. The man appeared to appreciate this though, for her dress had barely dropped from her fingers before he had grabbed her by the hips and pulled her forward to bury his face in the protruding shelf of flesh.

On the screen the woman moaned deeply in response and Quatre squirmed slightly in boredom. A quick survey of his sisters revealed them to be enrapt with the action on the screen for the most part, although Sabintha was busily examining her cuticles as the movement in the vid intensified.

The man's hand had plunged between the woman's legs, and from what Quatre could see, it had somehow disappeared almost entirely in there. The hand emerged clutching a tiny scrap of silk that Quatre surmised must have at one point been her underwear. The man then fell to his knees in a worshipful pose and proceeded to jam his nose into the space his hand had so recently vacated. The woman appeared to enjoy this, and if the muffled grunts of the man were any indication, he did as well. Quatre was completely baffled, "Why would anyone want to do that?"

There was no answer. His sisters were too busy staring with glassy eyes as the man threw the woman down to the bed and stripped himself as rapidly as possible. This caught Quatre's interest. The man was firmly muscled but not overripe... and between his legs the most glorious muscle that Quatre had ever seen stood at full, rapt attention. "He's beautiful..."

"See, I told you." Sabintha muttered darkly from his side; the man on the screen nudged the woman's legs open and settled his weight between them.

"That doesn't prove a damn thing, and you know it. If I say the woman's attractive, it doesn't make me a lesbian!" countered Bettina.

"Yeah, but screwing half of Father's guards makes you a slut." Sabintha did not even bother to whisper this comment. Bettina rose and was instantly pulled back down by hands on either side and breathlessly shushed as the vid-woman squealed loudly.

"Goodness..." murmured Claudia, a tentative "Not." "He certainly seems adept at that, wouldn't you all say?"

No one said anything for the space of the next few minutes; instead the air was filled with the grunts, groans, and growls of the couple on the screen. Quatre watched in bored detachment as they rolled. With the woman on top he was deprived of seeing the man's back muscles ripple in the most fascinating way. Quatre huffed a bit, blowing his bangs out his eyes momentarily, and wished he was back practicing his scales.

The vid action apparently came to a satisfactory end for the participants, and several of his sisters as well, who sat with glazed stares and secretive smiles. "Well, Quatre?" Sabintha poked him with an elbow. "What did you think?"

"About what? Was that sex?" Sabintha nodded as the rest of the sisters watched Quatre intently. "I don't know, maybe I'm not old enough - it all seemed rather dull to me."

"But wasn't she pretty?" Bettina was solicitous.

"I guess. But did he really like doing all those things to her? And why would any man want to put a woman's breast in his mouth? I don't see how that would taste very good..."

This prompted a small eruption of squabbling, and a few of the "Nots" were even on the verge of conceding defeat when Bettina bellowed, "That does not prove a damn thing! Perhaps he is too young - let Sabintha put in one of her vids, and we'll see."

With this pronouncement, the sisters settled down once more, and passed around fresh drinks. Jasmine, the last of the "Is" triumvirate, was about to light one of her strangely sweet, hand rolled cigarettes, but Sabintha snatched it with a disproving little cluck and declared, "Later," as she tucked it behind her ear. She then moved in front of the vid-screen and cleared her throat for attention.

"This is a special treat, ladies, and gentleman." She paused to wink at Quatre. "I just finished editing this last night - so you'll all be the first to see my newest masterpiece."

There was an eruption of chatter as Sabintha slapped the vid into the deck. "Is this Treize and Mirialdo?" She nodded.

"Turn up the volume! The way he talks is always the best part!" one sister commanded.

"The worst part, you mean!" countered another. "He sounds like some idiotic hero from a really bad romance novel!"

"It's sexy!!"

"It's sappy!!"

"You'd spread if he talked that way to you..."

"SHUT UP!" Sabintha bellowed. To Quatre's surprise, his sisters obeyed and quickly resumed their previous seats. "Let's all just hush and let Quatre form his own opinion." She plopped down next to him, snatching and draining his fresh can of cola. "Get the kid another drink." Sabintha burped delicately. "This is from the last meat market at the Earthside estate..." Every six months or so, Quatre's father arranged social gatherings of epic proportions, inviting several eligible, suitable young men to congregate on his property and around his daughters. Quatre remembered this last weeklong party with particular glee. "... And some of you wondered where Treize and Miri were during the dancing..."

"I had such fun with Treize and Mirialdo!" The pair had taken a special interest in poor Quatre, mostly ignored at these sorts of gatherings. It had made him feel very special, and warm deep in his tummy when one would ask his opinion or the other would lightly ruffle his hair. "They let me play with them all week ... until Father caught us and became ever so angry..." Quatre trailed off as he realized all of his sisters had riveted their attention on him.

"Pl-lay-ay?" Bettina's voice cracked the word into several syllables. "And Father caught them and they're still alive?"

Ever the voice of reason, Sabintha asked. "What sorts of games did you play with Treize and Mirialdo, sweetie?"

"Mirialdo taught me how to shoot skeet! And Treize was showing me how to fence. Mirialdo even said that when I got old enough, I could come to the Academy and train with him - I have 'excellent aim and stunning reflexes!' But then Father caught us and started ranting about pacifism and," in a falsely deep voice, chin tucked into his chest and brow heavily furrowed as he mocked, " 'No son of mine will ever shoot a gun or pilot one of those metallic monstrosities...'" And here, Quatre made the universal sign for someone running on at the mouth, his hand opening and shutting like a duck's bill. "I really don't see what all the fuss is... besides, I'm good at it! Treize and Mirialdo both said so!"

"Ohhhhh... is that alllll..." sighed Bettina, still not able to control the enunciation of her words.

"Fine, can we get on with this now?" Sabintha's finger hovered over the "play" button on the remote.

This vid started much differently from than the last. The scene opened on a rose-filled corner of the grounds, and no people were in sight. "Is that Marguerite's rose garden?" Jasmine squinted.

"Yes - Treize asked me to show it to him." Quatre said with no small pride; he had been such an excellent host.

"Figures." Bettina sulked, and then was promptly shushed by the others as Treize and Mirialdo came into view.

Marguerite was never one to do things halfway, therefore the flowers that Treize so prized filled the secluded corner in every imaginable size and hue. Roses clung to trellises, and dripped down in attractive sprays of red and pinks. Bushes dotted with every probable color and variety of rose crammed the small space with blossoms in every stage of life, from tight buds to those gently weeping their petals onto the lush grass below. "This is incredible," Mirialdo told his companion.

"Nowhere near as incredible, beautiful, wonderful..." Treize trailed off and gently brushed Mirialdo's shoulder length blonde tresses back from his face. "Not as perfect as you, o rarest of blooms."

"Ack!" said one sister. "Shut up!" hissed three more.

Quatre edged forward a bit on the couch. He had spent a great deal of time with the pair and had never heard Treize talking like that. Nor had he ever touched Mirialdo in such a pleasant way - for the blond's eyes were half-shut and he virtually purred as he leaned into the caress.

"This is your element, Mirialdo - you are a wild and untamable animal, magnificent in your graceful ferocity. My satyr, my Pan... enchant me with your grace under the moon's licentious gaze... for she wants you too, but the delights of your smooth skin are mine alone..." As his low hypnotic voice covered Mirialdo in praise, his fingers smoothly worked at uncovering the younger boy. Quatre was amazed to see first the formal embellished jacket hit the ground, swiftly followed by a slithery and stealthily unfastened cravat, and soon joined by a frilly-fronted shirt. His was not the only appreciative gasp as the group got their first good look at what Treize had uncovered.

Even at fourteen, Mirialdo was a picture-perfect specimen of healthy manhood. Although his chest lacked hair, it was not deficient in musculature. Indeed, he was well defined with not a bit of softness on his torso; every muscle was proudly highlighted by the moon's caressing glow. His hair shone silver-white in the gentle light, rippling as Mirialdo dropped his head back to offer his neck to Treize's softly whispering lips. "Perfect ... you are perfection..." each word ending with a moist kiss, a flick of the tongue, "A Greek statue, a Roman god... are you Mars, my mighty warrior, or do you hail from the planet of love, instead?" This string of exaltations ended with Treize's lips hovering just over Mirialdo's, and Treize's hands pushing Mirialdo's pants over the slim planes of his hips.

Quatre's mouth dried out as Mirialdo's pants hit the ground and Treize's lips found their mark. Had there ever been anything, anywhere, so incredibly, spectacularly, absolutely gorgeous as the movement of the two men's mouths against each other? When Mirialdo gave a little whimpering moan and began clawing frantically at Treize's clothes, Quatre had to answer with an echoing groan.

Beside him, Sabintha snorted, "Knew it!" and he turned briefly to stare at her in confusion. A rumbly, butterscotch chuckle from Treize drew Quatre's attention back to the screen, so when Sabintha whispered, "And how does this make you feel?" into his ear, his only reply was, "Mmmmm-hmmm..."

Mirialdo had somehow managed to strip the older boy, revealing an equally firm physique, broader in the shoulders, leading in a more defined "V" to Treize's waist. Sensing his partner's over-eagerness, Treize stepped back to remove his pants, slowly uncovering firm, long legs and tightly rounded haunches.

Casually, without removing his eyes from Mirialdo, Treize reached out and cradled one of the fading blossoms, twisting gently until it yielded its petals. Moving in a way that could only be described as stalking, he closed the distance between them and brought the handful of petals up to Mirialdo's chest. "Which is softer, do you suppose?" Treize mused as he lightly stroked the blonde's trembling pectorals. "The satin of this rose, or the silk of your skin?" Treize continued. Quatre squirmed as the petals were swirled over Mirialdo's skin, dropping slowly away with each passing stroke until Treize held a single petal, which he brushed repeatedly over Mirialdo's parted lips.

It was indescribable, really, the way this made Quatre feel - all hot and cold at the same time. He wanted to quietly weep or shout for joy. He wanted to tell everyone he knew of this wonderful new secret, but at the same time, he wanted to keep it all to himself. Mostly, however, he wanted to watch.

What Treize did next puzzled Quatre, but Mirialdo's reaction did not. Treize took the single remaining petal and traced a meandering path from Mirialdo's lips, down his chest, swept it from hipbone to hipbone, and then used it to trace the proud length jutting between them. The petal became mired in the pearlescent fluid gathered at the tip, and Treize tossed it aside to cover the area with his lips. Immediately, Mirialdo's head fell back and he buried his hands in Treize's hair with a resounding wail.

As Treize moved with a precisely deliberate rhythm over Mirialdo's straining shaft, Quatre felt the nascent stirring of his own. He shifted slightly and dropped one of the many small pillows littering the couch onto his lap, flushing a painful red when Sabintha caught his eye and winked with a little knowing smile.

It was heavenly torture, watching each careful move made over Mirialdo's quivering body. What would it be like to be Mirialdo - to feel that wickedly talented tongue meandering over wanton flesh, to have those strong hands tightly grip his buttocks, to be the recipient of each faintly spoken word of praise?

Jasmine, sitting on the floor at Quatre's feet, noticed her little brother's distress and crowed, "We have a winner, folks! And I don't mean grandpa!" as Treize broke away from Mirialdo to retrieve his jacket and placed it, carefully folded, over a low bench.

Sabintha paused the vid and turned to Quatre, "Well, tell us all what you think of this vid."

"I... ah... um." Quatre was unable to look away from the screen - Mirialdo immobilized in the act of leaning over the bench, resting his chest on the pillowing garment. Thighs and calves were stretched taut as he canted forward, looking back over his shoulder, face half-shrouded in that luxuriant wealth of hair. "I li-li-like it." He finally stuttered. "A lot."

"Shit! And that was all my money for the next week!" Bettina grumbled. She rose jerkily, pausing only to slap Quatre half-jokingly in the back of the head on the way out of the room. "Thanks for nothing, you little miscreant."

"What did I do?" The rest of the "Not" sisters flounced away with sentiments ranging from a good-natured "oh well" to a maliciously gleeful "Wait until Father finds out!"

Soon, only the three "Is" votes, Sabintha, Jasmine, and Deirdre, remained in the room with Quatre. "How are we gonna split the kitty?" Jasmine threw herself on the couch next to Sabintha. "And where's my doobie?"

"You are not lighting up in front of Quatre!" Sabintha moved the object in question away. "Before we split the money, perhaps we should extend the wager a bit..."

"Like a little maryjane's gonna kill the kid - you're showing him hard-core porn!" Jasmine gave up trying to find the joint that Sabintha had surreptitiously tucked into Quatre's vest pocket. "What do you mean about the bet?"

"It's just that we still have an important question left to answer... 'Top' or 'Bottom.'"

"Top, definitely." declared Deirdre from her nest in a severely overstuffed chair next to the couch.

"Care to let your money ride on your convictions?" Both sisters nodded, so Sabintha continued, "Well, what do you think, Jasmine?"

"I think I need a smoke..." Seeing that this line of inquiry was dead, she added. "I'm with Dee, 'Top.' And how do you intend to determine this particular fact?"

"And I say 'Bottom!'" Sabintha took up the remote again. "We'll just watch the rest and Quatre can decide who he'd rather be."

Quatre already knew what part he would like to play in the equation frozen on the screen, but wisely kept silent so he could see the rest of the vid. Treize moved to kneel behind Mirialdo, a small vial of clear fluid in his hands, which he uncorked and breathed of deeply before coating one hand liberally and stroking the offered cleft.

"Let me guess," snorted Deirdre. "Rose oil?"

"Indubitably," said Sabintha.

"Shush!" said Quatre as Treize teased Mirialdo with the oiled digits, kissing a leisurely path over every ridge of the elongated spine stretched out before him.

Mirialdo was thrashing under Treize's steady hand, his hips thrust back to meet every whispered caress. It was easy to decide with position he'd rather take, really. For to Quatre it was clear, although both men were enjoying themselves Treize was still in control - every move calculated, his half-lidded eyes twinkling with feral delight. And Mirialdo was overwhelmed with passion - no longer the witty, articulate teen that Quatre had quickly grown to admire - he had been transmuted into an inarticulate creature of need, mewling with pleasure and mindless with desire. And that's what Quatre wanted - to lose himself so entirely in his own sensations that he could not think, only feel.

And what a feeling it must be! Mirialdo's head snapped abruptly upright, hair flaring up and back in a silken arc as Treize moved behind and then into him. An undulating cry flowed from Mirialdo's lips as Treize nudged forward, withdrawing almost instantly to slam forward with a sudden jerk. Quatre grew as short of breath as the men on the screen as the pace accelerated, panting along with them while Mirialdo's moans drove the tempo of Treize's hips.

And when Treize snaked his oiled hand between Mirialdo and the bench, Quatre's groin jumped in sympathy with the shriek that rang through the clearing as the blond shuddered once, twice, and fell limply still across the folded coat. Treize rocked forward a half dozen more times before slumping over his companion, murmuring sweet nothings as their breathing slowed.

Sabintha stopped the recording again, freeze-framing the moment of post-coital bliss. "Which one looked like he was having more fun to you, little brother?"

"Oh, Mirialdo!" Quatre grinned around at the women. "Don't you think?" He glanced at the screen briefly and gave a happy little shiver at the ecstatic look on the blonde's face.

"Ah, sh..." grumbled Deirdre. "How'd you know, Sabintha?"

"'Cause she's got all those discs - 'Bintha must be able to spot 'em anywhere!" Jasmine stretched off the couch. "I'm going to my own room for a quiet little smoke."

"Take me with! Drowning the sorrows and all..." Deirdre extricated herself from the puffy chair and hobbled after Jasmine on half-asleep feet. "Night, Sabintha, Quatre!" She pulled the door shut after flipping a dismissive hand back at them.

Quatre stole another glance at the screen, and then sidelong at his sister from underneath his bangs. "Could we... I... could you... pl-play it again?" he finally managed to push out.

"No." Quatre felt as though she'd punched him in the stomach until she grinned and amended, "There's another one I want to show you instead..."

~~~{*}~~~

When Quatre's story came to an end, the four remained silent for a long moment. Then Heero, cross-eyed with drunken puzzlement, said, "There's just one thing I want to know... what happened to the marijuana?"

Duo gaped at his partner in shock, and even more so when Quatre answered, "We smoked it!"

Still missing the entire point, Heero focused, "You sister gave you drugs when you were only ten?"

Duo burst, "His sister showed him hard-core porn starring Zechs and Treize when he was ten! I hardly think that a couple of puffs compares to that!" He stepped back to consider his words, "Were they really hot, Quatre? I'd really like to see ol' Mask-boy there in action sometime!"

"OK!" Quatre smiled brightly, although his eyes were mostly squinted shut. "And if you like the mask, you should see the discs from during the war!"

"What the hell? Did your sister follow them around with a 'corder everywhere they went?" Duo sputtered.

"No, silly! Une's responsible for all the wartime Captures! And they're yummy! She called it the "Masked Rose" series - very kinky stuff!" Quatre quietly 'um-hmm'd' to himself after he spoke.

"I must be missing something here - Lady Une's in on this too?" Duo was passed confused, and even Trowa looked a bit non-plussed at the mention of Une.

"Ohhh, shhh! I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but..." Quatre leaned forward, conspiratorially continuing in the not-so confidential drunken tone, "There's this ... ah, secret society kind of thing... women who like to see men..." Quatre alcohol-flushed cheeks flared redder. "You know..."

"Fuck?" supplied Heero helpfully.

"Yesssh! Anyway, they make these vidclips - Captures, they call 'em - and trade 'em around with each other. Some pairings are more prized than others... there's this complex rating system..."

"Rating system?" Trowa was even intrigued.

"Yeah - whether it's a rare pairing - you know, like a one time thing... And how imaginative the sex is... they don't want to see just plain old sex - they're looking for something special." Quatre beamed with sake-fueled pride. "We're on the 'most wanted' list!"

"Huh?"

"Oh, and you guys, too, Duo. It's usually really hard to get membership in the groups, but anyone that can come up with a Capture of the two of you together," Quatre wagged his fingers at the multiple Duos and Heeros at the table. "Or the two of us," and he leaned against Trowa with a happy sigh. "That person is instantly admitted."

Duo pondered this bit of info for a moment. "Are there any tapes of Heero and me?"

"Not together."

Before Duo could ask for further clarification, Trowa whispered in Quatre's ear, "And us, my Quatre?"

"Oh, look, we're out of beer!" Quatre struggled to rise from the table, but Trowa grabbed his arm. "Um... yes..." He told the table top before looking up to find a reassuring, mildly amused look in Trowa's eyes. "The last time we had all my family over... the hot tub..."

Trowa grinned, actually showing teeth. "That I would like to see."

"Ok!" Quatre was instantly the perfect host again, "But Duo asked to see Treize and Mirialdo, first."

"Wait!" The beer had made Duo slower on the uptake than he would have liked. "You mean you have some of these vids?"

"My sister Sabintha copies all the discs she gets for me - they're in the locked cabinet by the vid-screen." Quatre turned to Trowa, "Why don't you all go get settled in there and pick out something to watch - I'll bring some more beer and munchies and meet you."

"And I'll help lil' Quatre!" slurred Heero.

"Watch who you're calling little, Heero." Trowa smirked. "And what's the combo on the lock, love?"

Quatre winked back over his shoulder as he and Heero propped each other up on the way to the kitchen. "343, of course."

On to timeline story number 3

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