"Good afternoon, WuFei!" Quatre greeted the Chinese pilot cheerfully as he entered the kitchen. "We already ate breakfast, but I'm almost done preparing lunch, if you don't mind the wait!"

"Not at all. Thank you, Quatre." He looked over Quatre's shoulder, peering at the food, and frowned. "Are you certain that's enough food?"

"Don't worry; it's more than enough to feed all of us, including a half-starving Duo!" the Arabian pilot replied.

WuFei sat down at the kitchen table to wait. "That's good. Especially seeing as, according to Maxwell himself, you're going to be feeding a starving Duo."

"Oh, you've talked to him? I thought he was asleep!" the blonde asked, looking a bit confused.

"He's awake. He has been for a short while."

"Is he coming downstairs soon?"

"No, he's with Heero right now. I'm going to bring food to them."

"Oh. All right." Quatre replied. It looked as if he were fighting off an impending blush. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a tray, which he placed two plates of sandwiches and cookies; the cookies had been homemade and were fresh out of the oven. The Arabian fixed a third plate, picked it up, then froze; he was obviously unsure of what to do with WuFei's meal. "Ah, WuFei," he began.

The other boy didn't need to hear the rest of the question to know what was going to be asked. "I'll be eating with them; go ahead and put mine on the tray, please." He said, standing and walking over to Quatre. The blonde added the third plate, then handed the tray to WuFei.

"Thank you, Quatre." The Shenlong pilot thanked his friend, bowing and taking the proffered tray. With that, he headed back to the bedroom.

WuFei balanced the tray on one hand and opened the door, gently kicking it shut behind him. He gingerly set the tray down on the dresser and picked up one of the plates, then walked over to the bed.

Duo looked up at him as he sat down on the bed. The American was singing an old-fashioned song about a dying fisherman. His eyes lit up at the sight of the food.

WuFei smiled. "Would you like to eat first? I'll take over while you do." He offered. Duo nodded eagerly, but looked slightly worried. "Don't worry," WuFei added, "I'll be fine. I know you don't take long to eat, Maxwell, especially not when you're hungry!" He chuckled. Duo held out his hands; WuFei handed him the plate. The American waited for WuFei to begin talking, then began to stuff the food into his mouth hungrily. WuFei rolled his eyes.

After he had recited half the tale of Mulan in Chinese, WuFei looked over at Duo and found him lifting the last cookie on the plate to his mouth. The Chinese pilot grew suspicious at the unusually long amount of time it had taken Duo to finish his lunch. He grabbed his friend's wrist, preventing him from eating the cookie, and stood up.

Looking over at the dresser, WuFei saw that there was only one plate with food left; just as he had suspected, Duo had eaten more than just his own meal! He turned to his friend, a disapproving scowl the prominent feature on his face.

Duo hid his face behind a plate, looking innocent. "Ahh... Gomen ne, Wu-chan... I was hungry..." he sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes as he lowered the plate. He put on his best sad-puppy-dog face and blinked cutely. WuFei sighed; it was impossible to stay angry with Duo when he got like that! He was simply too adorable for his own, or anyone else's, good!

As WuFei's grip on his friend's wrist loosened, Duo saw his chance to escape. He jerked his hand free, stuffed the cookie into a surprised WuFei's mouth, and began to sing softly once more. The look on his face challenged WuFei; he knew that he wouldn't be challenged, if only for Heero's sake.

The Chinese pilot laughed, cookie crumbs spraying from his mouth. "All right, Maxwell," he began, chewing and swallowing the rest of the cookie. "I'll forgive you... But just this once. I'm going downstairs to see if Quatre has prepared any extra food. Don't you dare touch that plate while I'm gone!"

Duo saluted him, and WuFei left the room. The moment he was gone, Duo stopped singing just long enough to make a dreadful face at him.

* * *

When WuFei entered the kitchen, he was immediately greeted once again by a smiling Quatre and a stoic-as-ever Trowa. They were sitting next to each other at the table, slowly eating their food. Neither of them were talking; they seemed to be content with simply being in each other's presence.

"Oh, hello WuFei! Did you need something else?" the blonde boy asked, looking up.

"I was wondering if there was any food left; Duo, predictably enough, ate mine as well as his own." the black eyed pilot replied.

"Of course there is!" Quatre replied, standing and scurrying over to the counter. He placed a sandwich on a paper towel, then went over to the oven. Putting on an oven mitt he reached inside and pulled out a tray of cookies.

"Well, I'm fairly sure that they're done by now..." he mused under his breath, looking at them critically. He used a spatula to place several of them onto another paper towel, then handed both paper towels to WuFei. "There you go!"

"Thank you." WuFei said, bowing. Nodding to Trowa, he left the room.

"Hmm. He certainly seems to be getting along well with Duo and Heero lately, doesn't he?" Quatre observed once he judged that his friend was out of hearing distance. Trowa nodded.

"He's happy." the long-banged pilot commented, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Yes, he is. That's good; he deserves to be happy."

"And Duo?"

"I'm not sure... He's always happy when Heero's around, of course, but lately he's gotten that look when WuFei is nearby as well."

"And when he's with both..." Trowa began.

"He's walking on air!" Quatre finished. The two boys laughed quietly.

"I pray to Allah that everything turns out well for them, regardless of what happens." Quatre smiled.

Trowa nodded, pulling Quatre onto his lap as the blonde walked back to the table.

"Don't worry, I'm certain that things will be fine." he said reassuringly, hugging the Sandrock pilot close.

"I hope so, Trowa. I really do hope so." Quatre sighed. Trowa kissed him gently on the cheek, and the little Arabian stopped worrying about things, at least for a while.