Trowa stopped walking as a familiar car pulled to the curb along the snowy street. Checking the sign that hung over the door opposite the parked car, he saw that the building was an orphanage. He slowly approached the vehicle when Triniti Barton emerged from its interior. She wore gray slacks with a black ski-sweater covered with cream colored snowflakes. The snow boots and fur-lined hood on the sweater made it clear that she was ready for the cold weather. Closing the front door, she reached into the backseat and pulled out two sleds with bright red bows on them.

Triniti struggled to keep the sleds upright and close the backseat car door at the same time. The slick runners kept skidding on the icy pavement. Trowa reached out to steady her and load. "Here, let me help you."

"Tritan! Well, thank you; they are a bit of a hand full."

"Where do you want them?"

Triniti closed the car door and brushed a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. "Oh, I brought them for the children. I usually come once a week, and since there is snow, I thought they might enjoy sledding."

Trowa followed her up the steps of the orphanage. At the door, she turned to warn him, "Be careful, the kids are likely to mob you when they see the two red bows!"

A muffled din of children’s shouts and laughter floated out of the building into the chilly air as he opened the front door. Smiling, Triniti led the way into a large room full of children and toys. No sooner had she stepped into the light then dozens of voices cried out her name.

"Miss Triniti! Look she’s here!"

"It’s Miss Triniti! Yeah!"

All the boys and girls surrounded her, jumping and shouting. Trowa watched as she managed to speak to each one, often bending down to hug several of them. He smiled as her shining eyes matched the excitement in the lit faces around her.

Soon, she straightened up and raised a hand for quiet. "Look what I brought for us to do today!"

All eyes followed her gaze to where Trowa stood holding the two sleds. Then he was engulfed in the myriad of shouts and dancing children. Triniti laughed at Trowa’s expression as he tried to protect the sleds from all the flailing arms.

"Alright, boys and girls. Everyone put on your coats and shoes, or no sledding!"

There was a rush for the hooks along the walls. A mad rustle ensued as twenty children pulled on their coats, hats and boots. Triniti started to relieve Trowa of the burden of the sleds, when a small boy walked up. He continued to shrug on his coat as he looked at Trowa with wide brown eyes. "Can he stay, too? It’ll be so much more funner with another big person."

Triniti looked at Trowa hesitantly, "Well, I don’t know. Mr. Tritan may have other plans."

"No, not really. I mean, I’d like to… well, maybe I could help. There are a lot of kids for one person. Only if it’s okay with you."

She smiled, "I’m sure the boys will be glad to have some company. You know, even up the odds."

Trowa dipped his head and cleared his throat.

_________________________

Trowa felt he had never had so much fun. The coldness never touched him because he was constantly moving. He was either pushing sleds for races or pulling loaded ones back to the top of the hill. When he stopped to catch his breath, he would watch a laughing Triniti play with the kids. She was different here than at the Barton Foundation; no longer was she the leader’s daughter and first engineer/designer. Now she was human, alive, and free. Her eyes mirrored the glimmer in those of the smaller kids. The biting wind tinged her cheeks pink through the white puffs of steamy breath. Often her laugh would ring out at one of the children’s escapades. Trowa could tell the children dearly loved "Miss Triniti". He was surprised he had never heard her talk of the orphanage, but then she rarely talked about herself.

When the children tired of the sleds, a snowball fight erupted. It was girls against guys, naturally. Triniti turned out to have a fairly good aim, much to Trowa’s chagrin. He seemed to be her main target! Finally, he got bored with the cold missiles splattering his face, so he decided to meet her face on. She ran past him and again delivered another one at close-range. Trowa made a grab for her, but, blinded by the snow, he missed her arm and succeeded only in knocking her to the ground. Trowa saw her land face-first in a snow drift before losing his balance and landing near her. He heard her grunt. Propping himself up on an elbow, he saw that she had not moved.

"Triniti, are you okay?"

Instead of answering him, she lay very still. Trowa crawled to where she lay and rolled her onto her back. A fist-full of freezing snow flew into his face. Triniti laughed as she continued showering him with snow. Blindly, he tried to wipe away the snow, only to have more pelting his face. Franticly, he groped for her arms and managed to pin them to the ground. He blinked the clinging snowflakes from his eyelashes to look at his captive.

She lay on her back staring back at him. Triniti was breathing hard from the struggle, but her eyes and lips were smiling from the fun. Her hood had fallen back from her face, leaving damp tendrils framing her face. Trowa’s brown hair was dampened by the melted snowflakes; he too was panting with the exertion of their fight. He knelt over her pressing her arms into the snow around her to keep her from escaping. Their eyes stayed fixed on one another as their breathing slowed. Her eyes softened as he leaned closer. Suddenly, he had an overwhelming urge to kiss this girl lying before him. She could be so much fun and now looked so beautiful in his grasp. Her eyelashes lowered anticipating his kiss.

"Don’t you dare hurt Miss Triniti!"

Trowa felt several small bodies fall against his back while hands pulled on his arms. Looking around him, the kids he had forgotten were tackling him. He shifted to keep from falling on top of Triniti.

"Oh, they’re trying to rescue me, Mr. Tritan," she coughed and looked around at the gathering.

He released her and struggled to his feet with a gang of boys on his back. The enchanting thrill was gone. Triniti sat up shaking the snow from her hood and smoothing her hair back into it. She glanced in his direction and then became preoccupied with the children. He missed what had passed between them.

________________

As the long shadows of the evening stretched over the mounds of disturbed snow, Triniti called all the children together and headed back inside.

"Hang up your coats and wash up for dinner. Mrs. Hanson has hot soup on the table."

A tired, subdued group quickly obeyed. The warm aroma of the soup provided any extra urging. Soon the walls were lined with dripping coats and other things while the sides of the long table were lined with hungry little bodies.

Triniti looked down the long table to where Trowa sat at the head. He was eating as quickly as the others. When his eyes met hers, she blushed and returned her gaze to the steaming bowl in front of her. He stopped eating as he noticed her blush. It again dawned on him how pretty she was. Her kindness and love for these children enhanced the beauty he saw.

She pushed back her empty bowl and looked around the table at the pairs of sleepy eyes. "All finished?" she asked. "Good. Now everyone off to bed! I’ll be up in ten minutes, so be sure to be in the bed."

For a moment the room was alive with the scuffling of many feet dashing for the stairs. Triniti began stacking the dishes onto a pushcart. Trowa wanted to saw something, but the words just would not come, so he helped her.

"I’ll just push everything into the kitchen," she took a stack of bowls from him. "Thank you."

"Welcome," he answered, smiling as their eyes met. He followed her into the kitchen and then asked, "Do we need to wash these?"

"No, Mrs. Hanson will come back to do that. I come over about once a week so the other workers can have a day off. They tell me to worry with watching the children, nothing else."

A call from the landing outside of the upstairs bedroom alerted them to the fact that the children were ready.

"All right. I’m coming," Triniti wiped her hands on a damp cloth and moved to leave the kitchen. "I won’t be long."

Trowa followed her out of the door. He looked around the empty dining room and started to sit down when a voice floated out of the bedroom.

"Miss Triniti, sing. Please?"

"Sing? What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything!"

"Anything?
"Yeeeess!" a chorus of voices answered her laugh.

Thinking this might be interesting, Trowa mounted the stairs. He stopped outside in the hallway as Triniti began humming.

"Well, since it’s Christmas." She began a new tune. The words filled the stillness of the room as the children stopped moving in order to hear the words better.

Going from bed to bed, she tucked in each child as she continued to sing. For some she straightened the covers or picked up a fallen stuffed animal; for others she brushed back a lock of hair or folded wads of clothing. Leaning against the banister with his arms folded across his chest, Trowa watched and listened until the last note faded. Almost everyone was already asleep by the time Triniti moved to close the door behind her.

"Someone almost always asks for a song," she explained with a sheepish grin.

"I liked it, and I know why they love you so much."

"Oh, well," she dipped her head. "I like children, especially orphans. I guess they seem special because I feel like I am one of them."

"Why? You have a father and a family."

"Not really," she returned, her eyes hooded with emotion. "My mother died before I could even begin to know her. My older sister took her place until she married while I was still a kid, and now she is dead. Even my older brother tried to step in, but that all ended one night in a warehouse."

Trowa watched her walk down a few steps. "But at least you have memories of them. I have none to remember."

"Memories are fine and beautiful, but they can’t fill an empty, searching heart," she paused with her hand on the railing and looked at him over her shoulder.

"What about your father? You even have a family legacy to continue."

When she didn’t answer, but only continued down the stairs, he followed her. His curiosity was tempered with sympathy and compassion. He needed to find out more from her, his key to the inside information the pilots needed. But he was falling for her, too. This was something new to him, and he wanted to know more before committing himself.

"Dekim Barton is not much of a father figure. He only tolerates me because I am the last of his children. He likes my talents because they are useful to him, but we disagree on everything else. I think he only tells me answers that he thinks I want to hear. Actually, he is probably doing the opposite. I’m not sure how much longer I will still be with the Foundation. He’s just waiting for my niece to grow up, then he will completely forget about me. So you see, I am almost one of these orphans."

Trowa stepped to her side and turned her to face him. She blinked to keep the pools of tears from spilling out of her eyes. "I told you that I don’t have many memories of my own, but lately I’ve been making several. You are right-- memories are beautiful. But I’m beginning to think they can help fill an empty heart."

Triniti smile and leaned against his shoulder. "Thanks. But you really can’t remember anything? Do you have amnesia?

"Well, had it. At least now I can remember parts of the past. Several friends kept hounding me, trying to bring stuff back to my mind. Lots of my childhood memories are gone, though."

"What happened?" Trinti pressed, interested in his answer.

"I was lost in space. Just a freak accident… one of the risks of this era."

"And it caused you to lose your memory"

He moved to retrieve his coat from the wall. "That, and that I’m cold almost all the time."

"I’m so sorry. You do make my life sound cozy," Triniti shrugged into her own coat.

"It’s really not so bad … now. Today was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Never been around kids that much; I see what I missed by being in constant training. Guess it has been useful, but so much was lost or wasted. I’m glad you are trying to help them be kids and not warriors like most people our age."

"I’m glad you came today. It sure made it more fun!"

They headed out the front door after turning out some of the main lights. Trowa waited as she locked the door. "Ah, sorry for the rough play during the snowball fight."

"All part of the risk in that game," she shrugged, pulling her hood closer around her head. "I rather liked…. It made things…exciting," she grinned.

Trowa took her hand and held it gently. "Triniti, I would like to come back with you the next time you spend the day with these kids."

"I’d like that, too."

Her soft reply stopped as her eyes held his. Trowa felt mesmerized by the depths the shadows gave to them. He lowered his head and met her lips in a warm touch. She squeezed his hand as they went down the steps to her waiting car.