Now, this story will be over 20 chapters long, cause I LIKE writing romance. So, I've got to add to the basic story. You don't really need to read this. It's just romance. That's basically it. Of course, if you don't you'll miss a really cool character. But that's fine, just ignore him. Anyway, I'll leave you alone so you can read the story. You ARE going to read it aren't you? Yes, you are. NOW READ!

What are you still doing here? I told you to read the story! YOU AREN'T LISTENING! Huh! Fine! I'm leaving! GET OUT OF HERE!

Dis: I DON'T OWN GW. YET. Note the word yet. I will be the next Bill Gates and buy Gundam Wing, and then Heero will be MINE! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Then, I'm gonna give Trowa to my friend. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! (Now, if you are not totally scared out of your mind, you may continue.)

It was early. He always got up early. Trowa sat on the edge of the bed, getting dressed. He knew that if he went down at this hour, he would be alone. Ever since the accident, Heero has slept more. I suppose he is just healing, but it seems strange for him to do that. Trowa grunted. He never realized that he would miss having Heero around. The two quiet pilots would sit at the table and drink coffee, exchanging conversational glances.

Now he didn't want to go downstairs. There was really no point in going down, but there was certainly no point in staying here. Trowa sighed, and walked out his door, heading for the main flight of stairs.

That was the problem with having an apartment building. You had to walk down stairs. Now, stairs weren't a problem, as Trowa was definitely physically fit to do so, it's just that walking down four flights of stairs to get to the kitchen was a pain. For once, Trowa felt sympathy for the braided one, he had to go down six flights.

When he arrived at the main floor, he sub-consciously buttoned his loose white long-sleeved shirt halfway up. If one of the girls was up, he should at least be wearing some of his shirt. It was inconvenient, but practical.

Trowa was surprised, but entirely thrilled, to find Dakota sitting at the bar. She looked for all the world as if she was waiting for him. Secretly, he hoped that she was. It's kind of funny. Yesterday morning, I couldn't stand her. Then I spent some time with her, and now…I can't keep myself away from her. The way she acts, she doesn't seem to mind a whole lot. I wonder what she'd do if I touched her…I guess now's as good a time as any.

Trowa sat down on the bench-like seat she was on, and slid over next to her. He put his arm around her waist as casually as he could. The burning desire to touch her was great, even if he could just hold her hand. The desire to touch her. Duo would tease me if he heard that sentence. I don't wanna do anything bad, like that kinda suggests, I just wanna be close to her. I…think I'm … in love with her. Trowa explained to himself.

Dakota raised her eyebrows at his touch, but she only replied, "You've certainly changed. I thought you didn't like me."

Trowa drew her a little closer and whispered in her ear, "I thought so too. I was wrong. I'm glad I was."

At this point in time, Dakota was seriously considering slapping him. This had happened to her before, and it was getting to the part where boys tried things that she didn't appreciate. But Trowa lacked that greed, self-desiring look in his eyes that other boys had. And…he hadn't even liked her when he first saw her. A turn-around of this kind could only be real.

Suddenly, Dakota felt her own emotions towards Trowa spark, threatening to ignite. She liked having his arm around her waist. It was different, not like the boys who just wanted her for her looks. He really was gentle, and his touch was genuinely loving.

Trowa saw the thinking and puzzled look in her eyes, and realized something. Oh man, what am I doing! What if she doesn't even like me! Oh no, she's gonna get mad, and then she'll never like me. He was hurt, but pulled his arm away.

"I'm…sorry."

"No, no…I'm glad you did too." She said quietly, pulling his arm around her body again. Dakota looked up at him and smiled. She was really enjoying herself.

Trowa looked back down at the girl. Slowly, acting on his emotions, he pulled her closer to him. It felt right, having her there. He didn't try anything, but rested there with her in his arms. Wow…this is a lot at once. Maybe I'll stop right here. I don't want to go too far. I don't have any experience, and don't really know what not to do, or really what to do. I don't want to hurt her with my ignorance.

The British girl smiled again, this time to herself. She had been in a lot of relationships, and none of them were as slow as this one. Dakota had decided she liked slow relationships. Each time she was just getting used to something, her boyfriend would always want more. It led to bitter arguments and broken hearts. Dakota would do anything to keep that from repeating itself.

Absent-mindedly, she ran her fingers down his unbuttoned shirt, tracing the curves of his flesh. Her fingers touched old scars caused by battles long ago. When she touched a particularly long one, he flinched. Dakota drew her hand away, realizing two things at once. She was going much too fast for him. Besides, the wound was fresh, and she didn't want to hurt him. Quickly she pulled her hand away and began tracing the lines on his shirt instead.

You almost ruined a relationship that could be really good. She scolded herself. You always complained about guys moving too fast, and here you are pushing a guy past his limits. Shame on you!

Trowa hugged Dakota, and whispered, "Don't go so fast. I'm not used to it."

Dakota rested in his arms, still fingering his shirt. It was made of cotton, and was soft to her touch. She could smell the kind of detergent he used – it was fresh and springy. The scent delighted her nose, causing it to tingle with freshness. In the back of her mind, Dakota was still scolding herself.

Great. Not only did you push him too far, he's probably never had a girlfriend before.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –" Trowa silenced her with a soft brush of his lips against hers. It wasn't a kiss but it made her feel all warm and happy inside. She realized that he forgave her.

A strange, but pleasing thought came to Trowa as he wiped a strand of her hair from her eyes. Man, she's beautiful. I can't believe I didn't notice before. I wonder if she'd mind if I…

Trowa leaned his face closer to hers. With a gentleness he had forgotten he possessed, he tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. In an uncertain way, he leaned ever closer, until his lips touched hers. This time, they didn't pull away, but stayed and kissed her. Just as the kiss was deepening, and his emotions were getting out of had, Trowa was interrupted by a formerly cold voice that was filled by a mock humor.

"Trowa. You're a real stud. I go to bed, and you're still single. I wake up, and you're kissing Dakota on the kitchen table."

Trowa was startled, and pulled away, turning to see who had spoken. It was Heero. He was wearing braced crutches, and was resting his aching body against the doorframe, trying to get comfortable. The former pilot was smirking, but Trowa could see the hidden pain in his eyes.

"Sorry to interrupt Trowa, but I didn't want you to get into hot water. I've chaperoned Duo before, and you were at getting to the place that he always loses control. I decided to speak before you did something you'd regret." The crippled boy explained, hobbling over to the table on his crutches.

Trowa rose to help him take off the metal supports that helped him use the crutches with his weakened arm muscles. Then he supported Heero as he eased himself onto one of the stools beside the bench. Sitting down beside his friend, he looked at him with a serious. He was about to make a statement, but Dakota beat him to it.

"Heero, I thought you were supposed to be in a wheelchair." She commented disapprovingly.

Heero looked at her. "I wear my crutches in the mornings to exercise so I won't be lame when my bones have healed. I'm supposed to use them for at least fifteen minutes a day. I have to wear my supports, and I am, see?" He showed her the curled metal extensions that fit tightly around his arms.

"You should still use your wheelchair." She scolded, getting up to answer the coffeepot's shrill scream. "Do you want coffee Heero?"

"Yes please." Came the affirmative from the tired boy resting on his arms at the table.

"Trowa?" She asked, turning to look at her new boyfriend with a questioning look.

"Please and thank you." He replied. Turning back to Heero, he reprimanded, "I know the nurse said you could use crutches, but you're still hurt. You're going to get sick. The reason you're tired all the time is from over exerting yourself. You've got to take it easy."

It was true. Bandages wrapped around Heero's upper torso, around his shoulders, and back down both arms. Red was bleeding through in some places where he had worked too hard and ripped a healing scar. The wounds weren't totally healed, and fresh bandages had to be applied every day.

On top of that, Heero found that he was more and more tired each day. He still took his vitamins, but he had a feeling it was time for a change in prescription. Throwing up every day drained his nutrient supply, and made him sicker instead of letting him heal.

"No I won't. I've been using them for weeks and I'm not sick yet. As for being tired, the doctors said I'd sleep more." He shot back.

Trowa looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Then why does the toilet flush every day before you come out of your room? And why are you bugging me to get your vitamin prescription change unless you're not getting enough nutrients? You certainly eat enough. I know you're throwing up Heero, so you might as well stop trying to hide it. You've probably got dyspepsia!"

Heero scowled, giving Trowa a dirty look. I didn't realize that he knew! I don't want people to know…to know how much it hurts. He must not have told anyone, or else, I'd be in the hospital.

"I don't throw up from that, because I don't have it."

"Then what DOES make you throw up?" Trowa demanded.

Heero was trapped. "I…my internal injuries aren't…I'm still hurt." He faltered, trying not to lie without giving away his current state. Trowa accepted the answer, deciding not to press the issue any more for the time being.

Dakota come over with their mugs of coffee and set them beside the two boys. Then she sat next to Trowa, sliding her arm around his waist. He looked down and smiled, putting his arm around her as well.

Heero took a deep sip of coffee, letting the rejuvenating liquid put life back into his sore bones. Most of the nutrition he'd had in his body exited into the toilet via his stomach convulsions earlier. He relaxed, glad that the coffee was both relaxing him and arousing him at the same time. It also helped warm him. The temperature was cooler than normal, especially without a shirt.

Dakota put down her coffee to snuggle closer to Trowa's warm body. She was cold, even with her sweatshirt on. Shivers racked her body. Dakota looked over at Heero, staring with disbelief.

"Aren't you cold?"

Heero looked at her and nodded. "Yeah , but if I rip one of my wounds open while I'm wearing a shirt, then it gets blood all over it. I'm sick of doing my laundry and having to throw all of my shirts out because they're stained."

Trowa looked over at his shivering friend. "Oh, come over here and get warm Heero. You might as well. No one's up yet anyway." He held out his arm for the injured boy.

The former pilot of 01 scooted over to him gratefully. He pressed himself against Trowa's side, soaking up warmth. Over time, his shivers gradually decreased, until he was silent. His chest rose and fell softly, indicating that he was asleep.

Dakota hugged Trowa one last time before rising from her chair. She smiled when she saw Heero cuddled up against Trowa like a puppy. He looked so cute.

"You know what? Heero looks like a little kid when he's sleeping." She muttered softly.

"Yeah. I'm glad he can find some peace sleeping. He doesn't get much anywhere else."

"Mmh." Dakota agreed, taking one last look at Heero before closing the door gently.

"Come on Dakota. We'd better go." Trowa said quietly.

She nodded, pulling on her jacket and stepping outside. Before she knew it, two strong arms were around her, large hands were covering her eyes.

"Guess who." A deep voice said.

Dakota pulled away from Trowa, started to see his appearance. Somehow Trowa had dragged up a black leather jacket and was at this moment slipping a pair of oval sunglasses over his jade eyes. She laughed slightly at his attire.

"Why are you so dressy Trowa? You're only takin' a truck!"

Trowa shook his head at her comment. "Not today. Today we're going to work in style." He held up a set of keys that Dakota recognized. She had seen Heero playing with them earlier.

"Oh, and wheel-chair boy's got a nicer car than you?"

Trowa shot her a look, keying in the access code of Heero's garage into the wall. With an affirming beep, the wall slid back to reveal the nicest car Dakota had ever seen. Its sleek metal exterior (none of this aluminum stuff) was designed for maximum speed.

The shiny black paint glittered with flashy blue streaks. The mirrors were angled to allow a vision. Dakota stood in shock, allowing Trowa to sit her in the passengers seat while he threw the luggage in the back.

The car was specially modified with advanced stereo systems-surround sounds, an mp3 player, a CD player and a tape player, as well as a radio and CB selection.

There was a TV and phone in the car as well, the phone capable of visual conversations via screen. But better than all of this, the interior had leather seating. That's right, pure, 100% leather seating! It was a dream car.

"Wow. Nice car." Dakota muttered.

"Yup." Trowa said, closing his door and turning the key in the ignition. "This thing's capable of 270 mph safely. What's even more amazing is that Heero built it himself. Pretty good for a kid in a wheel-chair huh?"

That kept Dakota quiet. She had never been so wrong in her life. Here she was, insulting the intelligence of a person who built this car from scratch! She was silent until they entered the circus grounds.

Trowa parked the car with expertise, grabbing his and Dakota's equipment. He didn't open the door for her, he was afraid that he'd either let a comment fly about her behavior, or that she would get mad at him. Dakota opened the door herself, locking it before she slammed it shut.

He doesn't have to get so mad. It was only one comment for goodness sakes. She retorted, running to shorten the distance that had been put between them by Trowa's long strides.

The pair walked to the part of the circus where the trailers were kept. Trowa fumbled with the lock for a minute, then opened it. He set their stuff inside, and came back out, automatically locking the door on his way out.

Dakota hadn't gotten a good look at the place that was his second home, but it seemed spacious and well kept. Everything had its own place, what little things she had seen there. I wonder if his room is this neat… She wondered to herself.

Trowa looked over at the black-haired girl, and started to walk to the kitchens. The cook, Kila, would throw a fit if they skipped breakfast, and he was determined not to displease her. Why am I ignoring Dakota? She only said one thing. She must think I'm horrible. Sub-consciously, he waited for her. When she was close, he reached out and took her hand in his. It wasn't much of a gesture, but it asked forgiveness, and said that he was no longer angry.

As they approached the kitchen, Trowa noticed a newcomer. He must be the newcomer that Cathy was so excited about yesterday. According to her, he can really cook. Maybe I should invite the gang over for lunch if he's any good.

He was a strange boy, wearing ragged jeans with holes beginning to wear in the knees. The sleeveless blue shirt was dirty and torn, contrasting sharply with the clean white cook's apron he was wearing. They must have been his only clothes, other wise Kila wouldn't let him wear them.

The strangest thing wasn't his clothes. Deep pools of red fire gazed at Trowa, almost daring his to come over and order something. No, not a dare. It was more of a challenge. The gesture came to Trowa from behind a few strands of turquoise hair. Most of the latter was brushed to the side, bangs under the headband holding it in place were sticking up. His hair must have been held up with a lot of hair-spray, as the hairdo was almost able to rival Trowa's own.

He smiled, showing his large teeth and asked, "Can I help you?"

Dakota knew it was mean, but she couldn't restrain from thinking, What a freak. The boy's eyes lost some of their shimmer, as if he could hear what she had just thought. It was freaky.

"You guys hungry? I'll make ya somethin." He offered.

The tall boy studied him with a critical look, as if he couldn't believe this kid could actually cook after seeing him up close. He ran his fingers through the long bangs in front of his eye and let it fall back into place. The boy wouldn't know, but it was a sign of nervousness, as well as indecision.

"I'll have bacon and eggs." He ordered. He always ordered that. Kila's eggs were light and fluffy, the bacon done perfectly. Of course, he couldn't expect this kid's cooking to be quite as good, but that was perfectly alright.

The turquoise-haired boy sighed, folding his arms and leaning on the table. Now it was his time to sigh. This one was not a sigh of indecision, but of boredom.

"You people are all boring. You never want to try anything good. Toast and orange juice. Bacon and eggs. A ham sandwich with hash browns. Come on! Be interesting!" He complained, tossing his hair out of the way.

"And what would you suggest turquoise-boy?" Dakota demanded.

"Nice girlfriend you have there." He laughed, looking at Trowa. The boy turned red from the observation and replied quietly.

"She's not my - ow!" He yelped, falling silent. Carefully he rubbed his sore stomach where Dakota's elbow had contacted with the vulnerable flesh.

"I would recommend my Omelet Special. Its got spices in it that are just as hot and tantalizing as you are." He said.

"Watch it kid." Dakota warned, though she was quite flattered at the comment. Out of the corner of the eye, she watched Trowa's face grow dark and decided to change the subject. "Sure, I'll try anything."

"Alright! You've got taste! " He grinned, handing them a number. "Your meal will be ready in about fifteen minutes. You can pay me then. If I'm not around for some reason, ask for Roku."

Dakota laughed as she walked with Trowa over to their table. "What a name! Roku! Hehe. Sounds Japanese."

"It is." Trowa said quietly, sliding his arm around her for the who knows how manyth time that morning. "He's Japanese too, or at least, he's built like Heero. I know that's not the same thing, but that's the best I can do for heritage on that eye-level."

"Not bad hun." Whoa. I just called Trowa 'hun.' That's scary.

It wasn't long before their food was ready. Trowa was just about to go and yell for that crazy kid to hurry up, when he appeared. There was a platter in each hand, both of them full to overflowing with warm, tantalizing food. He set the trays in front of them, laying out the appropriate silverware.

"There ya go! Hope you enjoy your meal!" He grinned.

"Roku, do you want to eat with us?" Dakota invited.

"Huh? Sure! I'll go get my breakfast!" A smile, a real, genuine smile, not one of the fake grins he wore for the customers appeared on his face as he ran off.

"Why did you invite him?" Trowa asked.

Dakota looked at him disapprovingly. "He seemed lonely. And besides, he reminded me of my brothers." (See the prequel to Coming Home by Megan Blackstone.)

"Oh."

Soon the boy reappeared at their table, holding a can of Banana Milkshake flavored nutrient drink. He sat down, popping the seal and taking a drink. Dakota didn't know how he could stand that stuff. It tasted horrible, but was good for those who didn't have time to eat or had digestion problems.

Now that he was here, she smiled and bit into the omelet. It was delicious. Special, hot spices teased her mouth and excited the taste buds. Small pieces of ham and bacon were cooked inside the omelet, enhancing the flavor even more. It was probably the best meal that she had ever eaten. So good that it seemed to disappear from her plate.

"Wow, that was really good." She commented. Trowa nodded his agreement, having cleaned his plate moments earlier.

"Thanks." Roku replied, finishing off the last few drops of the drink. Some people think this tastes really disgusting, but I think it's great. It helps a lot, since I wouldn't be able to eat much without it. I wonder what people used to do before these were invented…

He was interrupted by a call from Kila. "Roku! Get back to work, and stop pestering the customers!"

"Yes ma'am." He agreed, getting up. Thankfully he took the large tip that was offered to him before running off to meet Kila's need.

"He's a nice kid. Good cook." Trowa observed.

"Yeah. I used to think he was a freak, but he's not really that bad." Dakota decided. "Well, come on. We've got lots of work to do." She reminded him. Slipping her hand into his, the two walked off toward the circus tent, prepared for another busy day.

Ah…little more romance than usual, huh? I warned ya. Review, review people! That's why this story is coming out so quickly!

Jet