Waking Up In Vegas (A 3x4 GW Fan-Fic)

Disclaimer: I don't own GW or it's characters. I just borrow them from time to time, because the awesome people at Sunset and everywhere are cool enough to let me!

Additional Disclaimer: This contains YAOI, and maybe even LEMONS/LIMES. If you don't know what that means... then please leave. For those of you still reading... don't sue me if you need therapy because you read something you shouldn't.

Summary: Quatre, a down and out business man, wakes up in Vegas... married to Trowa, an artist with no inspiration. An annulment seems the reasonable option... right? But now that Trowa has finally found his muse in Quatre... he's not letting go so easily.

Warnings: Yaoi, Possible Citrus, AU, 3x4, background 2x5 and 1xR and others, 6x9, fluff, drama, sap, romance, pathetic attempts at humor. And no Relena bashing... nope, not a bit! ^-^

And PS... Prologue and first chapter are combined, so... you get like a two in one! And no, I haven't forgotten my others!

Thank you, that is all.

Enjoy!

Waking Up In Vegas

Prologue

Quatre fell face-first onto the fluffy bed of his hotel suit bed, using the thick, plush comforter to muffle the sound of his outraged scream. At twenty-four, he rarely gave into such childish fits or tantrums, but he figured the occasion called for a nice, long temper tantrum. He had the very strong urge to throw something, but settled for throwing the pillow at the wall instead of tossing the expensive crystal vase from the bedside table.

Why did this have to happen to him? He was an excellent businessman. He was a superior politician, so why did this have to happen? In one night, he'd lost his business, he'd lost his family... he'd lost everything. Well, a reasonable part of his brain argued, so had Relena in a way. Because of supporting something he felt strongly about, his father had disowned him. And because he lost the support of *the* Zayed Winner, he lost the support of a large group of people. His business was in shambles. It would take *years* to get back to anywhere near the prestige he'd previously had.

Just minutes ago, on the phone, his VP and good friend Zechs had told him to take a nice vacation and, since he was already in Vegas for the conference, to live life a little. He practically insinuated that Quatre did *nothing* but work and work and work some more. Quatre sighed. Zechs was right. He needed to loosen up. Zechs could run things for a while... since there wasn't much of anything to run anymore. They still had the support of the American Military... but that didn't amount to very much, though.

Quatre picked up his cell again, punching in a well-memorized number.

"Quatre?" The voice on the other end asked. It sounded relieved, and almost a little paniced. "Are you okay? You left the conference in such a fluster, I was worried."

"I'm fine, Relena," he said. "Listen, are you busy tonight?"

"No. The meetings are done for today, and I have nothing planned tomorrow, either. Is there something I can do? Anything?"

"Actually, there is. Do you think that you and the cause of my demise would be willing to go out tonight? This is Vegas, after all. And your brother insists I have some fun."

"Partying?"

Quatre heard the hopeful lilt in the voice. Few people knew about the Diplomatic Darling's secret love of partying and clubs and bars and FUN in general.

"Yeah, 'Lena. You, me, and the glorified war hero, Mr. Heero Yuy. A nice night out on the town. What do you say? To help out an old friend?"

Relena's laughter flited down the phone line.

"Quatre, honey, you don't even have to ask. The limo will be there in thirty minutes."

"You can't tell me that *that* doesn't inspire you," Duo complained, pointing to the pyramid at the Luxor. "I mean, it's beautiful and an amazing work of architecture."

"It's not doing anything for me," Trowa replied, turning away from the grand pyramid. "None of this does anything for me," he threw his arms wide to encompass the entire city around him, coming alive with the fading daylight.

"Wufei, please tell me why we bothered to bring him along?" Duo asked, casting an imploring look at his lover. "He's never any fun during stuff like this."

"You already knew that," Wufei told him. "And we did it because one way or another, we're going to get him to loosen up and have fun. Stop looking for the inspiration in every leaf and stone, Trowa. Just stop for a while, and it'll come back."

"But I can't draw, I can't paint... I can't do anything," Trowa fumed. "It's all gone. Nothing's there, and I feel so... hollow. Duo, how would you feel if you suddenly lost your ability to design buildings? Wufei... what would you do if you didn't have a history class to teach? I'm missing a piece of me, and I just can't live without it. How am I supposed to go on like this?"

Duo grinned. "Three things. Alcohol, dancing, and loud music. And where are we at... but Las Vegas, buddy. Me and 'Fei are going to take you out tonight, and you *are* going to forget, at least for tonight, that you are an artist. You are going to forget about inspiration and painting and charcoal and watercolors and *Midii*" he pulled a face at the name, "and whatever else it is you obsess over. Tonight... it's just us... and VEGAS!!!"

Waking Up In Vegas

Chapter One

Quatre knew before he even woke up that he was *not* in his own hotel room. There were several reasons he knew this: a) because his bed was alot fluffier than the one he was laying on, and b) there was no-one else in that other bed but him. And there was *definitely* someone else in *this* bed.

Surprisingly, Quatre didn't panic. It felt good to be wrapped up in someone's arms. To have a warm body pressed up against his, his hand around their waist and his head on their shoulder. It had been much too long since he'd slept with anyone, he'd almost forgotten how nice it felt to simply cuddle in the mornings.

He briefly wondered just what Relena let him do last night, because he didn't remember a thing. He had a pretty bad headache, but at least the nausea hadn't hit... yet. Shifting slightly, he became aware of a vague ache in his body that told him that he *had* done *something* last night. Zechs would have a field day with *this*, and Quatre couldn't wait to ask just why Relena had let him get so drunk that he'd sleep with someone he didn't know.

He groaned slightly and opened his eyes. The curtains in wherever he was were drawn, so the sunlight didn't blind him. He blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes before taking in his surroundings. It *looked* like another hotel room. Not a fancy suite like his, but a Vegas hotel none-the-less. That's when he finally mustered up the courage to see what type of loser he'd shacked up with.

'Oh, Allah,' Quatre thought. 'I must be dreaming.'

He bed-mate was *gorgeous*. Honey skin that simply *begged* for one to see if it tasted as sweet as it looked. Hair the color of melted caramel, falling forward over a clean-cut face. A long, lithe, and lean body, all spread out overtop of the covers for Quatre to see. The fact that that long body was *all* male didn't bother Quatre. He'd long since accepted that he was open-minded and could see the beauty in people... male or female.

'Oh, wow,' Quatre gulped mentally. 'How did *this* happen?'

And that's when two specific things happend. That's when bright, beautiful Emerald green eyes blinked open to stare at him. And that's also when he noticed the gold band around his left ring finger.

Uh-oh.

Trowa stared at the blond. For some reason, his mind wasn't wanting to work this morning. He couldn't for the life of him imagine why there was a *guy* in his bed. Or why he was holding onto this guy like he was a life-line in the middle of the ocean. Speaking of oceans... those eyes were such a clear teal-blue. And...

What had he done last night?

That was when he noticed that that gaze no longer held his. Those eyes were growing wide in shock. Trowa looked to where they stared at... at the sparkling gold band around a long, slender, pale finger. Trowa looked... to the matching one on his own hand.

Oh... what *had* he done last night?

"Please, please tell me you remember what happened last night," The blond begged quietly. That voice held slight panic, confusion.

"Who are you?" Trowa settled on asking. His bed-mate groaned, closing his eyes.

"Okay... let's go about this rationally," he said, pulling away from Trowa, searching for some article of clothing. He latched onto a shirt and pulled it towards him. Glitter fell to the floor as the blond let out a short laugh, pulling the plain white button down on and trying to find his pants. Pants found, pulled on, he turned to face Trowa.

"Okay... My name is Quatre... and yours is...?"

"Trowa," Trowa replied.

"Nice name. Why don't you get dressed and we can discuss this...." He waved his hand, the left one with the wedding band on it, "like rational adults over coffee."

Trowa nodded. It seemed sensible. The blond picked up a shirt off the floor... Trowa's shirt. "I believe this is yours?"

Trowa took the offered green sweater. He was dressed, relatively, when he caught sight of something on the bedside table. His sketch book. He knew it was full of worthless scraps that he just couldn't get formed in his head. But...

The picture it was open to was beautiful. Trowa knew his own work, but he didn't remember drawing this. It was without a doubt a rendition of the blond... Quatre. Leaning back against a wall, hands in pockets. Crisp button down shirt open, hanging loose off the shoulders. Hair just as wild as it was now, eyes smoldering with passion.

Trowa couldn't have been drunk when he drew this. He couldn't have. So why didn't he remember anything after he, Duo, and Wufei had gone to that first club.

Trowa flipped through the sketch book as he followed the blond silently to a coffee shop not far from the hotel. There were dozens of half-formed sketches that weren't there yesterday. Some were of Quatre, some were of fountains, of buildings, of everything. Somehow, last night, he'd drawn more and *better* than he had in over a year. Since Midii.

"I think that, if this is a legal thing, we can get an anulment and not worry about anything," Quatre was saying, sipping on a very strong coffee. "Just get the anulment and go our seperate ways. Don't you think?"

"No," Trowa said, surprising even himself. Where had that come from?

Somewhere last night, he'd found his inspiration. And it seemed to be from the blond in front of him. He wasn't going to loose that just yet.

"Pardon?" Quatre asked, taken aback.

"Look," Trowa held out the book, open to the sketch of Quatre. "I'm an artist. I haven't been able to draw *anything* for over thirteen months. Anything at all. I can't remember a thing... but last night, I drew something. I drew you. I don't know how to explain it... but I found something last night. Something I've been missing, and I can't give that up. This is my passion, livelihood," Trowa tapped the book. "And you have something to do with that."

"Are you crazy? Stay married because you drew a picture? I have a business to run, I can't be married."

"Lots of business men are married," Trowa pointed out.

"I don't *know* you," Quatre countered.

"Apparently you know me enough to marry me in the first place," Trowa refuted. There was no way to deny that. There had to of been *something* between them. Trowa *knew* he would never, no matter how much alcohol was in his system, sleep with a man, or a woman, he didn't know, much less marry him.

"I live in New York," Quatre stated, as if laying the final nail in the coffin.

"And I live in Tennessee," Trowa replied. "You can probably easily run your business from there. Nashville is as good a base as NYC."

Quatre let out an exasperated sigh.

"Is there no winning with you?" He asked.

"Not once I've made up my mind," Trowa shrugged.

Quatre groaned. "I've married a brick wall," he muttered under his breath before glaring at Trowa. "Fine, fine. I'm not agreeing yet, but we'll see about this later. I'm in Vegas for two more nights. You?"

"I leave tomorrow morning."

Quatre nodded, fishing for his wallet. He withdrew a business card and jotted down his cell and home numbers on the back.

"Those are my numbers. Call me tonight. Hopefully, I'll have figured some stuff out by then."

Trowa let a small smile tilt his lips. It looked like he might get exactly what he wanted. Now, he just had one question. What was he going to do once he had it?

To be continued...