Starting out on a Journey 3/3

[misanagi]

Starting out on a Journey

Rating: PG13
Pairings: 3x4 get together. 2+4 (friendship), 1+3 (friendship) and background 1x2.
Warnings: AU. Fantasy elements and historical inaccuracy. Fusion with the animated movie Anastasia.
Summary: A journey might hold not only the answers to Quatre's past but also to his future.

Dedication: For Anne, who wanted this fusion and has always been wonderful to me. Merry Christmas!

Thanks a lot to Cait, Lil, Ruth and Windsor for the beta. *hugs you all lots*

Prologue and Chapter One|Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Quatre remembered very little about his nightmare except those words he had spoken when he woke up. Duo assured them that Quatre had never sleepwalked before but that his dreams were usually agitated, probably thanks to the part of him that was trying to remember the life he had forgotten.

By the time they got to Paris Quatre was back to his normal self and dismissed the nightmare as a one time occurrence. Trowa, however, was worried. He had seen the green demons haunting Quatre and Heero had told him that he had seen them before on the train. While Trowa usually didn't believe in such things as supernatural creatures, he couldn't deny his eyes.

Something or someone was trying to hurt Quatre.

Trowa just hoped that whatever this was it wouldn't interfere with the meeting with Wufei and the Emir. Heero and he had invested all their savings in the search for a Prince Raberba that could fool the Emir and get them the reward money. They would be rich and Quatre… Well, Quatre would have found the family he was looking for. It didn't really matter if it wasn't really his own.

It was better this way. Quatre would live as a prince with the Emir, enjoying the richness of nobility. Someone like that could never get involved with another man, let alone a commoner.

Quatre would do fine. Heero had instructed him well in the history of the Winner family, his resemblance to the prince was astonishing and above all Trowa had that. When the Emir looked at the object Trowa had safeguarded for so many years, there would be no doubting Quatre's identity.

Heero straightened up and knocked on the door of the elegant house. A maid opened it and smiled. "Oui, monsieur?"

"Yuy, is that you?" someone called from inside. The man signaled the maid to go inside and stood on the threshold, his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smile on his face.

"It hasn't been that long, Wufei," Heero replied, returning the smile.

"So you finally made it to Paris," Wufei said, thoughtfully.

"Just to stand in the doorway of a poor host." Heero raised an eyebrow, silently challenging Wufei.

Wufei laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day when my former servant complained about my manners. Please, do come in." He gestured for the entire group to follow him and walked inside into a small sitting room.

"Former servant?" Duo whispered to Trowa.

"Heero used to work on the Chang household before the revolution," explained Trowa. "They were good friends, despite the social differences."

"So, what brings you to my door?" Wufei asked.

Heero moved aside to let Wufei see Quatre, who had been hiding behind the rest of the group. "I'm here to present his royalty, Prince Raberba Winner."

Wufei's eyebrows rose. He walked towards Quatre, slowly circling him around. "He does look like the prince, but he isn't the first one who does."

They all sat down and after the introductions were made Wufei began his interrogation. "Where were you born? How do you take your tea? Where was her highness the Empress from? Name all the Winner sisters from oldest to youngest… "

Quatre answered every question, repeating the facts Heero had made him memorize. Wufei was nodding thoughtfully, not letting on what he thought about Quatre's story yet. Duo and Trowa had remained quiet, just listening.

"One final question," Wufei said after a little over an hour. "How did you escape during the siege of the palace?"

Trowa swallowed. They had never discussed this with Quatre. As far as he and Heero knew the prospects were never asked more than questions about the family and their life before the revolution, never about that night when the Winner family had died. Trowa could see all his hopes and dreams crumble in front of him. They had been so close.

"There was a boy," Quatre said, drawing Trowa's attention back to him. "He worked in the palace… He opened a wall?" Quatre looked confused and then shook his head. Two fingers went to his forehead, massaging it slowly. "I'm sorry, this sounds crazy." He gave a nervous laugh. "Opening walls…"

If the question had shocked Trowa, the answer had stopped him cold. It couldn't be. The prince had died.

That night, ten years ago, when Trowa had woken up with a throbbing headache in an empty room he had hoped the prince had made it out. He had liked the prince, even though they had never talked. Trowa liked to watch him, hear him talk and play with his sisters. He had known that he and the prince could never be friends but that didn't stop him from dreaming about it.

The dream had shattered when he'd walked out of the palace and heard the news that the royal family had been killed. Raberba was gone.

Trowa had convinced himself of that and he hadn't dared to hope and believe the myths and legends that said the young heir had survived. But then, how had Quatre known about the secret passage and about him? The eyes were the same. It was the first thing Trowa had noticed in the palace, even without comparing him to the painting of the royal family. He had remembered those eyes, he just hadn't been able to admit what he already knew.

Quatre was Prince Raberba.

"So?" Heero asked, "Is he the Winner heir?"

Wufei put a hand below his chin. "He answered every question but you won't be able to see the Emir."

"Why?" Duo asked, standing up from his seat.

"The Emir is tired of meeting fake boys pretending to be the prince. He won't see anyone else."

"Wufei, we came from St. Petersburg."

"However," Wufei continued, as if he hadn't heard Heero. "The Emir will be attending the opera tonight. We never miss it."

Heero inclined his head in understanding and then stood up. "Thank you, Wufei."

Wufei made a slight bow and walked them to the door.

"We should go see the city," Duo said as soon as they left the house.

"We do have some time," Quatre agreed. He walked next to Duo and they rushed down the street.

Trowa followed them at a slower pace. He didn't mind where they went. He couldn't think clearly right now.

"So he's the real thing," Heero said, matching his pace to Trowa's.

Ahead, Duo and Quatre were talking and laughing. Trowa suppressed a sigh. "There's no other way for him to know that." Trowa had told Heero the story of how he had helped the prince many times. Heero used to tease him, saying Trowa had a crush on the prince. He might not have been so wrong after all.

"Tell him how you feel before he meets the Emir. He deserves to know."

Trowa shook his head. "There's no place for me in his life. He's the prince."

Heero gave him a warning look. "You are making a mistake."

Trowa didn't have a reply.

They didn't talk anymore the rest of the evening. Trowa followed his friends around the city but his mind wasn't really there. Quatre caught him looking a couple of times but didn't say anything. Trowa was grateful for that. He didn't know what he would do if Quatre confronted him.

After they got some clothes fitted for a visit to the opera, they headed to the theater. Heero managed to get them tickets in a private box. Duo and Quatre were exited, happily watching the people around them and admiring the elegance of the building. The plan was to watch the show until the intermission and then Trowa would go talk to the Emir and convince him to see Quatre.

Quatre loved the show. While Duo and Heero whispered to each other now and then, Quatre's attention was completely on the stage. His mouth was slightly open and the fingers on his lap sometimes drummed in rhythm to the music. Trowa enjoyed the music too but he discovered soon enough that he liked watching Quatre more than the stage.

When the time for the intermission came, Quatre smiled brightly at Trowa before standing up. "This is wonderful!"

"After you meet the Emir you'll have the opportunity to see many more." Trowa walked out into the hall and started heading towards the Emir's box. He stopped when he noticed that Heero and Duo weren't following.

"I need to talk to Duo," Heero said. Trowa understood the unspoken words. Heero wasn't going to remain quiet. He was going to come clean to Duo. Trowa nodded and hoped they would be fine. Heero deserved to have someone.

When Trowa and Quatre reached the door to the Emir's box Trowa said, "Wait for me here."

For the first time, Quatre nodded and didn't argue.

As soon as Trowa walked inside Wufei stood up. "I need to speak with the Emir," Trowa said loudly. "I've found his nephew Prince Raberba Winner."

The Emir turned around and stood up as well. He was a tall and imposing man. He looked down at Trowa. "I'm tired of seeing boys pretending to be Raberba."

"Please, my name is Trowa and I used to work at the palace."

"No!" the emir said, raising his voice. "I'm not a foolish old man and I'm tired of people pretending to know my nephew's whereabouts only to get the reward money."

Wufei started pushing Trowa carefully towards the door.

"This isn't like that. You need to meet hi—"

"Trowa! I remember that name." The Emir was frowning. "You are the one who held auditions in St. Petersburg, looking for boys to play Raberba." He pointed angrily towards the door. "Get out. Now!"

Wufei wasn't careful this time when he pushed Trowa out. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't allow you to cause more pain to the Emir." He closed the door in Trowa's face.

Trowa sighed and closed his eyes.

"So that's what was in it for you." Quatre's voice was cold and icy. "Reward money."

"No!" Trowa opened his eyes. "It's not like that."

"It was all a lie," Quatre's eyes were hurt. "You just needed me for the money."

"No!" Trowa help Quatre's arms with both hands. "It might have started like that but it's not anymore. You are Prince Raberba."

Quatre took a step back and pushed Trowa away from him. "You don't need to lie anymore. At least I got to Paris so I guess we are even, Mr. Barton." He started walking away and Trowa ran after him.

"You are the prince! When you talked about the boy—"

"No more, Trowa." Quatre stopped to glare at him. "You've made me hope enough. Just leave me alone." When he walked away this time Trowa didn't follow.

* * *

"So you lied to us," Duo said, slowly.

Heero nodded. "I'm sorry.

"It was a good plan. You and Trowa get to split the reward in two instead of three and all you had to do was toy with a guy with amnesia and his friend." Duo was so angry that it was taking all his self-control not to slug Heero. They had been played with. And to think that he had kissed Heero, allowed himself to care for him.

"I'm sorry," Heero repeated. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You hurt Cat and lied to me."

"I didn't know you," Heero whispered. "If I had I wouldn't have done it."

"Sure." Duo rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't have pretended to care for me either..."

"I do care," Heero said firmly. "That wasn't a lie."

Duo wanted to snort and walk away. He didn't need this. It was easier to hold a grudge and just ignore how happy he had been the last few days, how happy Heero made him. But Heero was looking at him and Duo knew, just by seeing his eyes, that he wasn't lying. "You'll have to apologize to Quatre," he finally said.

Heero nodded.

"I haven't forgiven you yet," Duo warned. "But I think I might."

* * *

Rashid left the theater after bidding goodnight to Wufei. He liked the young man. Wufei had been a great help to Rashid over the years, being his right hand in the futile search for Raberba. The Chang family had been living as ambassadors in Russia before the revolution and after it they had established in Paris. Having lived in the same place Rashid quickly made friends with the Chang family and after Wufei was old enough he had volunteered to help the Emir interview the many boys that came to Paris claiming to be the prince.

He entered his car and closed his eyes as the vehicle started moving. He wanted to go home, rest and forget this horrible night had ever happened.

The vehicle took a sharp turn and Rashid opened his eyes. "Abdul, slow down."

"I'm not Abdul and I won't slow down."

The driver turned around and Rashid sat up in his chair. "You! Haven't you done enough tonight?"

"Emir, you need to listen to me. Please." Trowa turned his eyes back to the road. "I'm taking you to my hotel to meet the prince. I know you don't believe me and he doesn't believe it either but you need to see him."

Rashid fingered the dagger in his pocket. The last person he had killed had been Tsubarov, all those years ago. He was angry at being taken hostage by an insolent boy but he didn't want to kill him either. He decided to wait but he didn't pull his hand away from the dagger.

They stopped in front of a small hotel. Trowa got out of the car and opened Rashid's door. The boy put a hand inside his pocket and Rashid tightened his grip on the dagger.

"Do you remember this?" Trowa asked and opened his hand to show a small sand clock.

Rashid's eyes widened. He let go of the dagger and took the clock from Trowa's hand. "Where did you get this?"

"The prince left it behind when you both went through the passage in the wall."

The boy looked sincere and desperate to make Rashid believe him. Rashid didn't dare to hope but at least Trowa had brought back the clock Raberba had loved so much.

"I'll take you to him," Trowa said and Rashid found himself following him.

The entered the hotel and when they reached the room Trowa handed Rashid the key. "He's in there." And with that he walked away.

Rashid knocked and a voice inside said, "Come in, Heero." He opened the door and stepped inside.

"You are not Heero," a boy with a long braid said accusingly.

But Rashid didn't pay him any attention. He was focused on the other boy, the blond standing by the window and giving him a curious look.

"I'm Rashid Kurama," he said to the boy who had spoken. "Would you give us a moment?"

The boy turned to the blond and when he received a nod he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"You look a lot like him," Rashid said, walking into the middle of the room.

It was a few seconds before the boy spoke. "I don't know if I am him."

This was a first. Rashid relaxed his stance a little but didn't allow himself to hope yet. There had been too many disappointments already. "Who are you?"

The boy sighed. "I don't know. My name is Quatre. My best friend and I picked it. I don’t know my real name. I was found when I was about seven and I don't remember anything before that."

This really was an ingenious plot, but Rashid would not fall for it. "They coached you well."

Quatre lowered his head. "I'm sorry I wasted your time, Emir." His hand went to play with a silver chain around his neck. "You clearly don't know who I am."

Rashid took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed in the chain. He reached and Quatre allowed him to take the pendant on his hand. Rashid gasped. There was no mistaking the Arabian engravings or the single word written delicately on the jewel, Paris. "Where did you get this?"

"I've always had it." Quatre looked down at the pendant. "It's the only clue I have of who I am."

Letting go of the pendant Rashid sat down in a nearby chair, gesturing for Quatre to take the one beside him. When Quatre did, Rashid pulled the sand clock from his pocket and handed it to Quatre. "It was our secret."

Quatre took the clock carefully in his hands and frowned. "There was something…" He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead with one hand. When he opened them again he slowly turned the clock, inserted the pendant in the small slot at the base and opened it to reveal the modern clock hidden inside. "You gave this to me," he whispered.

Rashid blinked back a tear. It was him. After so many years, he had found Raberba.

* * *

Trowa knocked on the tall wooden doors and waited for permission to go in. The Emir's office was large, with tall windows, red carpets and fine furniture. Trowa walked to the middle of the room, stood in front of the large desk and waited.

The Emir looked at him and took a step to the side, showing a suitcase filled with money. "Ten thousand rubles as promised, with my gratitude."

"I don't want the money," Trowa said. When he had discussed it with Heero he had expected his friend to urge him to take the money, but somehow Heero understood and agreed with Trowa's decision. Duo and Heero had talked and were in the process of fixing whatever the lying had broken and they had seen Quatre a couple of times since he had moved to the Emir's mansion. Trowa, however, had kept away. He wouldn't even be here now if it wasn't for the Emir's insistence.

"After all you did, you don't want the reward?" The Emir looked surprised.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing you can give me, your grace." Trowa bowed and moved for the door.

"You care for him."

Trowa stopped walking but didn't turn around. "Don't worry. I'll be gone tonight." This time he didn't wait for an answer and walked out, closing the door behind him. He rushed to the stairs, taking two at a time. He was so focused on leaving the mansion soon that he didn't notice Quatre until it was too late.

He looked breathtaking. He was wearing an elegant dark blue tuxedo that made him look taller and accentuated his back and shoulders. He was probably already dressed for the party tonight. The papers had announced on the first page. The missing Prince of the Winner family had been found and he would be presented to society by his uncle the Emir at an excusive party tonight.

"Hello, Trowa."

"Hello, Quatre," he replied, stopping in the middle of the steps.

Quatre's eyes seemed sad for a moment but then he raised his chin and asked, "Did you get your reward?"

The coldness in Quatre's words hurt. "My business here is done," Trowa replied just as coldly. "I'm going back to St. Petersburg tonight."

"Young man," interrupted an elderly butler from the bottom of the stairs. "You will bow and address the prince as Your Highness."

Quatre shook his head and held a hand up. "That's not necessary."

"No, it's okay," said Trowa. Quatre was royalty now and Trowa had no right to address him as he had done. It was time for them both to take their place. He bowed. "Your Highness, I'm glad you found what you were looking for."

Quatre closed his eyes and swallowed. His voice didn't sound so cold when he said, "I'm glad you did too."

"Goodbye, Your Highness." Trowa turned around and forced himself to walk down the remaining steps.

"Goodbye, Trowa."

Not looking back, Trowa decided, was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He left the mansion and headed to the hotel, keeping his eyes on the floor all the way back.

He opened the door to their room and found Heero and Duo inside, getting dressed for the ball. They had decided to stay in Paris. Heero had no desire to go back to Russia and Duo had left his home to join Quatre in an adventure. He wasn't about to go away now.

Trowa, however, had to go back.

"Well," he said, stepping in front of Heero. "If you are ever in St. Petersburg again, look me up."

Heero moved forward and put his arms around Trowa in a quick embrace. "You are making a mistake," he said when he let go.

"Trust me," Trowa replied, sadly. "This is the one thing I'm doing right."

"You're running." Duo was glaring at him. "I thought you were different." Even though Duo had forgiven Trowa for lying to him he hadn't had forgiven him for hurting Quatre.

Trowa shook his head. "I don't belong here, or with him."

"You are giving up." Heero sounded disappointed.

"He doesn't want me here." Trowa went to collect his satchel from the corner of the room.

"He's angry because you lied and he has every right to be." Duo's glare softened. "But he'll forgive you. He forgave Heero and he will forgive you. But if you leave, Trowa, then he won't."

Trowa left anyway.

Duo's words haunted him all the way to the train station.

* * *

Quatre stood next to Rashid in the antechamber of the ballroom. He peeked through the curtains and noticed that most of the guests had already arrived and were dancing in their expensive elegant clothes. The scene reminded him of the old palace in St. Petersburg. This ball was exactly how he had imagined, or more exactly remembered, a grand party would be like.

In the week he had spent on Rashid's house Quatre had remembered more about his past than in the last ten years. Being with his uncle had jolted his memory and little by little the pieces of the puzzle of his past were becoming clearer.

"Quatre?"

He had asked Rashid to call him that. Even though he was remembering his life as Raberba, he could no longer identify with that name. Like Trowa had said, he was Quatre, and discovering his past didn't change the person he was now.

Letting the curtain drop Quatre took a few steps back. Thinking of Trowa always made his heart ache. In the boat Quatre had been ready to give into the feeling that had been growing since the he'd met Trowa. When they had danced, for a second, Quatre allowed himself to hope there would be more between them. But then Trowa had pulled away and his hopes had been shattered.

The feeling, however, was still there.

"He's not out there," Rashid said, coming to stand beside Quatre.

"I know he isn't there!" replied Quatre, frustrated. He paused and frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"A remarkable young man who helped us escape the palace years ago and kept safe a sand clock."

Quatre looked up at Rashid. "Trowa was that boy?" An image of the boy jumped into his mind and Quatre felt like hitting himself. How could he have forgotten those eyes? "He's gone anyway," he said bitterly. "His business here is finished."

Rashid sighed. "Quatre, you were born into royalty, into a world of richness and luxuries but with it come certain demands, sacrifices if you will."

"I won't embarrass you," Quatre assured his uncle. He had also been worried about how his years living as no more than a servant would be seen by the society world. He was not prepared and he didn't know if he'll ever be, but he was willing to try. After all, he had found his family and he wasn't ready to give that up.

"That's not what I mean," Rashid said. "What I'm trying to say is that I wonder if this is what you really want."

"Yes," said Quatre, but his voice was hesitant. "I wanted to find my family and I found you."

"And you'll always have me." Rashid put a hand on Quatre's shoulder. "But is it enough?"

Quatre closed his eyes. He didn't have an answer.

Rashid walked to the curtain and pulled it open. He turned around to look at Quatre. "He didn't take the money."

"He didn't?" Quatre repeated, his eyes widening.

"I'll be here, Quatre, whatever road you choose to take." Rashid gave Quatre a reassuring smile and walked into the ballroom, the curtain falling closed behind him.

For a few minutes Quatre just stood there. When his brain started to function again he gave the curtain one last look and walked away.

It wasn't enough.

He wasn't going to give up his family but he wasn't going to give up Trowa either.

To avoid the still arriving guests, Quatre decided to leave through the back garden. It was large and well taken care of. A few lamps illuminated it enough for Quatre to see where he was going without tripping on the roots of the trees. The garden had a side exit to a deserted street by the river. From there he could run to the train station and, hopefully, he would get to Trowa in time.

"Raberba…"

Quatre turned around quickly, looking for the owner of the voice but no one was there.

"Raberba…"

This time it came from somewhere ahead of him. Slowly Quatre started walking again. Something was wrong. There was a thick mist covering the garden even though there was a clear sky above. The shapes of the trees seemed to be changing, growing larger and menacing. Quatre blinked furiously and shook his head. He was seeing things.

"Raberba." A figure emerged slowly from the trees. "Your Imperial Highness," the male voice added in a mocking tone.

As the figured approached Quatre could see his features better. He was an old man, dressed in dusty robes. His skin was too pale and wrinkled and he whites of his eyes were yellow. His long and bony fingers were holding a crystal reliquary, in which inside, tiny green demons glowed and stirred. He barely seemed alive but still there was something about that face that Quatre recognized.

With his free hand the man pulled the robe away from his chest, showing Quatre and angry red wound piercing the almost translucent skin. "Remember that night?" The man waved the reliquary and green demons flew out. They spread over the garden, collapsing the walls and moving the trees angrily.

"Tsubarov!" Quatre gasped. "But you died."

"I can't die," Tsubarov said and waved the reliquary again. "But when you do, my curse will be completed!"

More demons sprang out, surrounding Quatre this time. They scratched his arms and face and tore his clothes. Quatre tried to wave them away but they were too many. Their tiny claws held onto his ragged clothes and his hair, and dragged him across the garden and out to the bridge over the river.

"And now you die," Tsubarov yelled.

Quatre fell hard. He didn't have time to stand up before the floor started trembling. The bridge was collapsing and when it did, Quatre would fall to the ice water below. He reached out, trying to find something to hold onto but grasping only air.

Somewhere near, Tsubarov was laughing.

A segment of the bridge fell, making Quatre slide down. The tips of his fingers held on to the ledge but Quatre was too heavy and the stone was slick. He slipped. Quatre closed his eyes but the torturing cold of the ice didn't come. Strong hands were holding his wrists firmly. "Trowa!"

Trowa only managed to pull Quatre slightly up before a green beam of light hit him on the chest and threw him back. Quatre held on to the edge with his forearms, trying to pull himself up.

Trowa had come back but now he was also in danger.

"You won't save him again," Tsubarov growled.

Quatre watched in horror as Trowa was pushed against a wall and attacked by the green demons. The bridge trembled again and Quatre slid down. "Trowa!" he yelled.

Suddenly Tsubarov appeared above Quatre and grabbed him by the back of his collar. "Finally, the last Winner dead!" he said triumphantly and pushed Quatre down.

Holding on with his fingertips Quatre saw Tsubarov raise the reliquary and aim it to him. Suddenly a figure launched at Tsubarov, sending them both sprawling on the ground. Seconds later Duo appeared at the edge and extended a hand to Quatre. He barely managed to pull Quatre up before he was knocked on his side by another of Tsubarov's attacks.

Heero was there too, fighting beside Trowa and fending off the demons and the rocks they threw. Without even thinking, Quatre ran over to Tsubarov, tackling him. He tried to punch the other man but was hit by a green light beam that sent him flying. He landed hard on his back.

Groaning, Quatre sat up just to see Tsubarov pointing the reliquary back at him. Again, Duo appeared from behind, but this time instead of tackling Tsubarov, he kicked his hand, making the reliquary roll away towards Quatre.

Quatre stood up, the reliquary at his feet. Tsubarov was looking at him with a horrified expression on his face. Quatre put one foot over the crystal, pressing down until he heard it crack. The light on the reliquary suddenly changed colors from green to red; the demons vanished.

Tsubarov fell on his knees and screamed.

Quatre kept his eyes on him. This man had killed his family, had hurt Duo and Heero and had tried to kill Trowa. Another crack came from the reliquary.

Tsubarov screamed again and tried to crawl forward. Quatre took a deep breath and pressed even harder.

The crystal broke.

The green demons reappeared, circling Tsubarov. The screams grew louder as the demons melted his flesh. Seconds later all that was left of the man that had murdered most of the Winner family was pulverized bones that were blown away by the wind.

Quatre breathed a sigh of relief and then he noticed that Trowa was lying on the ground. He ran towards Trowa and kneeled beside him. Heero and Duo were there in a moment.

"Trowa?" Quatre asked. "Trowa open your eyes."

"You better not be dead!" Duo said.

"He's fine," Heero announced only seconds before Trowa opened his eyes.

Quatre threw his arms around him. "Don't ever do that again!" When Trowa winced Quatre pulled away. He hesitated but then said, "I thought you were going to St. Peter—"

"I was," Trowa interrupted. He fixed his eyes on Quatre. "I couldn't."

Quatre held his breath. "Why?"

Trowa didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and leaned forward like he had done on the boat. Quatre licked his lips and closed his eyes too. He crossed his fingers and hoped this time there would be a kiss.

A round of applause coming from the ball was heard.

Trowa stopped. "They are waiting for you," he said.

"No," Quatre said and put his arms around Trowa's waist. This time he wasn't letting Trowa go. "I'm where I need to be." Without opening his eyes, he leaned forward and met Trowa's lips.

"So, this means we're all staying in Paris?" Duo asked.

Quatre smiled into the kiss and felt Trowa smile too.

They were home.


- The End -

Comments

[merith.livejournal.com]

oh oh!! oh mis, so lovely! heheh, this is such a great story and what a wonderful christmas gift!

it's not mine, but thank you for writing anyway. *sigh* i truly enjoyed this piece.

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Merith! Anne has been wanting this fusion for a while so I thought Christmas was the perfect opportunity to finish it for her. This was the story I told you about that day on Pervy Potluck. I'm really happy that you liked it ^-^

[darthanne.livejournal.com]

I love this. I was on the edge of my seat through this last bit, even though I knew the plot from the movie and that you would give me a happy ending.

Just wonderful. I loved the way you cast the guys, tweaked the plot to fit, and they were still them.

thank you so much :)

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

I'm so happy that you liked this, Anne and that the action on the last scene worked. This was for you. Your idea, your fusion and written because you are wonderful and great and sweet and I love you. Thank you for always being there for me *loves*

[dentelle-noir.livejournal.com]

I LOVE how you brought Heero and Duo into the final scene! It was great! And having them together there, instead of the whole boat-thing in the movie was a great improvement! I loved Anastasia, don't get me wrong, but I always found the ending so...Cheesy and Default. Very Disney. I like yours better!!! great work!

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

Heero and Duo were an important part of the fic so they really needed to be there. I don't like the boat thing. In my head (and this was going to be in the epilogue but I then decided against writing one) all the boys move into apartments near the Moulin Rouge and live a happy bohemian life in Paris. I think it fits them. Thank you for reading and for the wonderful feedback! ^_^

[wickedgameff.livejournal.com]

*happy clap*

:-)

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

*grins* Thank you!

[mellonemrys.livejournal.com]

No more cliffhangers! ^__^ yay! I liked it and hope you write more soon. (I think you deserve a break for a bit though first ^_~ burn out is bad!)

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm really glad that you like it. I might take a break from writing for a bit, I'm kind of burned out after all those fics ^^;; Thanks you for reading.

[crystal-cave.livejournal.com]

This is a very nice - well - I guess it's a fairy tale. ^_^

So sweet - I had fun reading it. Thanks!

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm happy that you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.

[sharona1x2.livejournal.com]

That was a great ending! Now I want to watch the movie. I'm glad everyone got to be happy in the end. Even Rashid. I actually liked him a lot in this. ^_^

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Sharon! I'm glad that you liked it. I had to give them all a happy ending. They deserve it.

[tyreling.livejournal.com]

<3 Love this! For some reason their roles really fit.

[misanagi.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I love writing fusions so it means a lot that you think their roles fitted.