Disclaimers: Gundam Wing belongs to Sunrise. Any songs or quotes belong to their respective authors listed with them.

Author’s Notes: Hey, I’m glad you’re back! I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. If you know of any Trowa sites or good Gundam Wing fanfiction sites where I can post this fic, than please email me with your ideas. Thanks!

Averil took a walk into the marketplace of the city later that week, her thoughts again focused on Trowa. He seemed to be respecting her privacy, because he had asked no further questions about her past. She couldn’t explain why, but over the last couple of days, she had sought him out to sit with at mealtimes, even though he had shown no sign of interest because of it. Averil didn’t care, just as long as he kept treating her like a lady. She was so unused to men treating her with courtesy, that she even tested him on it. Once, she "accidentally" spilled her water on the table, merely to see his reaction. Trowa simply placed her glass upright and left, only to return with a towel.

He never raised his voice, even if he disagreed with her. Not that he talked that much. She did most of the talking—babbling on about a new trick she had taught Miles or the plans she had begun to make with Vivian for her costume. Sometimes they talked about serious subjects, such as the war. Averil convinced Trowa to tell her his beliefs about fighting because she felt that she had not "dealt with it directly enough to form a solid opinion." She listened intently to all of his clearly thought-out points, and when he was finished, she thanked him and sat quietly for the rest of the meal, simply working it all out in her mind. Although his voice held little feeling as he talked of it, she felt that it was something he passionately believed in, and she regarded him highly for it. She secretly admired Trowa for a lot of things: his tender affection for his sister Catherine; the way he always thought before he spoke (a skill that she wished she had); his willingness to take on any duty asked of him; and the acrobatic prowess she could only dream of attaining.

And yet, she was still afraid of him. Averil was fearful and distrustful of all men. She couldn’t forget large hands squeezing bruises into her upper arms and other unwanted advances. She remembered foul-breathed, drunken men slurring out nasty comments. She shuddered. It had happened before; it would happen again. All she would ever be to men was a piece of meat to hang prettily on their arms in public and clean up their vomit after they drank too much in private. But that’s why I left that life, she told herself happily, and I’m never going back.

Like a slap in the face, Averil heard a familiar, gruff voice speaking nearby, "Yeah, have you seen this girl? This is a recent picture. She’s about 20 with red hair. Kind of wide-eyed and pale-skinned, ya know what I mean?" Averil quickly ducked into an alley and peeked around the corner to watch. It’s Kraten’s big boys, she thought, a cold dread climbing up her spine, Morgan and Boris. Two large, burly men stood next to a fruit stand, showing a shopkeeper her picture. Morgan continued in his rough voice, "Yeah, you might’ve seen her on TV. Her name’s Lacy Kraten, daughter of Xavier Kraten, the owner of Equus Wagers." Averil didn’t stick around to hear anymore. As she ran swiftly back towards the big top, she thought bitterly, I’m not his daughter.

//_-

. . . 38 . . . 39 . . . 40 . . . done, Trowa finished his push-ups and rolled over onto his back. His work required him to keep in tip-top physical condition, but that wasn’t his reason for exercising today. He was trying to remove a pair of luminous, smoke-colored eyes from his mind. It wasn’t working. He sighed in frustration. He’d never felt this kind of attraction to a woman before. He thought that it must be obvious to everyone that he was practically drooling all over her like Duo Maxwell would. Well, maybe not that bad, he thought dryly.

Her whole aura, everything about her, seemed to contradict itself—one moment she was confident, and the next moment she was vulnerable. Then there was the way she would just switch from chattering about her favorite food to stop and look at him with those wide eyes and ask him why he fought in the wars. It just killed him! There was also that look she gave him—trembling and uncertain. He sighed again. Why was she so afraid of him? If he stood or sat too close to her, then she would tense up like a rabbit frozen in terror. He reviewed for the umpteenth time all the times he had been with her. He still couldn’t think of any reason she would be that scared of him.

It wouldn’t be so hard to honor her apparent wish that he not touch her if she wasn’t so . . . so . . . gorgeous. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a blissful moment to think about the image emblazoned in his mind. Her vibrant auburn hair that fell like satin down her back—he was sure that it would feel like liquid silk in his fingers. She nearly gave him a heart attack that first day when she came close to cutting it off. Then those eyes of hers—they’d haunt him for the rest of his life. There was a touch of sadness and disappointment in Averil’s gray-violet eyes, but it didn’t take away from the beautiful brightness they contained when she was happy. When she was happy, she smiled, and when she smiled, those rose-pink lips looked even more tempting. At this thought, Trowa shot up into a sitting position and smacked himself on the head. What was he thinking?! I’m beginning to sound like I’m in love with her. Quatre may believe in love-at-first-sight, but I don’t. Besides, I don’t even know who she really is. I know she’s lying about something. I wonder if Averil is even her real name. A memory flashed in his mind. "Names are things other people give you. There’s no point in wasting time worrying." Yes, No-name, who are you to question a person’s real name? What does it matter—she is who she is, whether Averil is her name or not. "Averil," he said quietly, savoring the sound of it.

As if he had asked her to appear, she came flying down the hill at full speed, terror ablaze in her eyes. Trowa sprang up. When she saw him, she slowed and stood trembling, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. He stared at her with wide eyes. "What’s wrong?" he asked, a betraying sound of worry in his throat.

Averil was so terrified she could hardly speak. If she could just make it back to her trailer, then she would be safe for a little while at least. She took a step towards Trowa. Dizziness and nausea overwhelmed her at the thought of being found and taken back again. The corners of her vision began to darken, and she swayed. Determined, she tried to maintain consciousness. She mustn’t be found. The last thing she saw was Trowa’s arms catching her as she fainted.

//_-

"They’re here . . . they’re here," Averil whispered, her head tossing back and forth. Trowa shifted her weight in his arms for a better grip. He pressed his lips together and frowned. He felt like yelling, "Who’s here?!" but he didn’t. Even if she was conscious, she wouldn’t tell him. He gently laid her down on her bed and let his hand slide through her hair as he pulled away. He let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Her hair felt even better than he thought it would.

"What’s going on, Trowa?" Catherine asked from the doorway.

He didn’t turn around, but just kept staring intently at Averil’s curled-up form, his moss-green eyes deep in thought. After a moment, he answered, "She fainted. When she wakes up, make sure you’re here to calm her down. She’s frantic about something that happened in town today."

"What happened? Where are you going?" Catherine asked in confusion as he headed for the door.

Trowa reluctantly turned around. "She’s mumbling ‘They’re here,’ and that’s all I know," he paused, then spun around and resolutely walked towards the door. "I’m leaving tonight," he said as he stepped outside, before that girl drives me insane.

"Nevermind," she sighed, then smiled weakly, "Have a nice trip." Suddenly, she flew into his arms and gave him a tight hug, which he returned in earnest. "But you’re not leaving me without a hug! I’ll miss you."

"It’ll only be a month . . . goodbye, Catherine." With that, he was gone.

//_-

When Averil woke up, she immediately remembered everything that had happened. She sat up quickly and was about to bound out of bed, but Catherine grabbed her by the shoulders. "Whoa, whoa. Slow down there. Now tell me, what’s going on?"

"It doesn’t matter. I just have to get out of here, right now!" She pulled herself away from a very startled Catherine and yanked her suitcase out from under the bed.

Catherine stood. "If you would just tell me what’s going on, then maybe I could help you!"

"No, no, you don’t understand! There’s no time!" Averil cried, continuing her wild rampage around the trailer, flinging essential items recklessly into her suitcase.

Catherine closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "Who is here?" she said deliberately and controlled.

Averil stopped and looked at her, tilting her head in bewilderment. "H-how did you know? No, nevermind, because it doesn’t matter, and I’m going to be out of your life for good and-" she stopped, realizing that that meant she would never see Trowa again, the first man, besides her father, to ever give her respect.

"Averil," Catherine said quietly, gently taking hold of the frightened girl’s wrist, "I can help you. Whatever it is, you can tell me, and I’ll help you."

She looked into Catherine’s eyes, and seeing the compassion there, her own eyes filled with tears. She swallowed and stared at the floor, speaking brokenly, "There’s nowhere I can go. He won’t let me go . . ." she trailed off into a sob. Catherine slid her arm around Averil’s shoulder and led her over to the bed. They sat down and Catherine let Averil cry into her shoulder.

"Now what happened downtown today?" Catherine prodded gently, leaning forward to grab the tissues.

"Thanks," Averil sniffled, taking the box gratefully, "There’s only a few things I can tell you, or else you might be in danger, too. You see, I know some things, things that could put a lot of people in jail—namely my stepfather, who doesn’t want that to happen. When I ran away, he sent out what I call his "big boys"—Morgan and Boris—to track me down. I saw them in town. They were showing my picture around and asking if anyone had seen me. So that’s why I have to get out of here as soon as possible, before they come and start snooping around the circus headquarters."

"Can you tell me anything else before you leave?"

"No, because Morgan and Boris might hurt you if they knew you knew something. All I can tell you is that they’ll be asking for a Lacy Kraten," Averil said, emphasizing the name and looking at her pointedly.

Catherine’s mouth opened in realization and her eyes widened. "That’s why Trowa thought you looked familiar. You’re stepfather is Xavier Kraten, and you’re that beautiful girl—his stepdaughter—seen with him on TV all the time!"

"Yes, and that’s all you can know. So will you please help me get out of here—off this colony—tonight?"

Catherine quickly formed a plan in her mind. "I can’t get you off the colony tonight, but Trowa’s leaving on a shuttle tomorrow morning. He’s already on his way to the station though, so you’ll have to catch up with him."

"But he’ll never let me go with him unless I tell him everything!" Averil cried.

"Well, if you can keep yourself hidden from him until you get off the shuttle on L4, then he can’t make you go back, and you don’t have to tell him anything until you trust him. But Averil, I’m sending you with him because he can protect you and he will know how to hide you. It’s the perfect plan."

Averil doubted that. She could already think of thousands of ways this could go wrong, really wrong, really fast. But what other choice did she have? "All right then, let me finish packing."

//_-

Even More Author’s Notes: If you have any comments or flames, review/email me. I can take criticism and I love compliments. Thanks for reading, and God bless!

To Be Continued