Disclaimers: I do not own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing, or any related characters or situations. No money is made off this work of fanfiction.
At Peace
I surveyed the room. I remember the first time I went to one of these political soirées, I was told by Marquise Wayridge that young blood was not common. Now, it had become a habit of mine to look around and see if I was truly the youngest person in attendance. More often than not, I was by far the youngest. Rarely, I would take note of someone close to my own age. A few times, I'd seen Dorothy Catalonia, but her appearances were growing rarer as her link to the Romafeller Foundation and thus the political world grew fainter in the memories of those who had known her to be the late Duke Dermail's granddaughter.
My brother and Miss Noin had once again avoided the gathering, their work on the Mars Terra-formation project suddenly too pressing for a few days' vacation. Presenter Wind and Presenter Flame had become quite good at getting out of these parties, which I, as the Vice Foreign Minister to the colonies and chief representative of the Sank Kingdom couldn't skip.
Fortunately, whom ever deigned it necessary to hold such gatherings needed a reason, so they weren't too common. One or two every few months was bearable, at least, it had been so far. By the time I am one of the seasoned politicians, I doubt I'll still be able to stomach them. Hopefully, I will have learned to erect a political mask by then, and no one will think anything of it.
This particular evening, a soiree was being held to celebrate a rather minor treaty between a privately owned mining colony and the collective government of the Earth. Though the agreement had no immediate or largely significant effects, I was glad to have negotiations over with; private mining operations often don't think they have anything to lose or anything substantial to gain, and that makes things difficult for all involved. It had been hostile during meetings to say the least and I got the distinct impression that neither side was particularly happy with the outcome. But something had been settled on, so people were happy, with the exception of the few individuals who had gotten the short end of the stick.
Because of this minority, I was not surprised to see a preventor here and there, lurking in the shadows, preventing possible complications. I caught the occasional; glimpse of Duo Maxwell, he was the type who wouldn't be able to remain unseen entirely, especially by those of us who knew what to look for. I saw Quatre Winner for a split second, and his smile told me he had let me see him on purpose. After spotting those two, I kept my eyes peeled and predictably found a face hidden by brown bangs and a pair of Chinese preventors. After seeing the other four former Gundam pilots and Dr. Sally Po, I couldn't stop myself from hoping to see a certain Japanese pilot, but of course, he was no where to be seen.
As the party wound down to it's last hours, I had long since stopped looking for him; either Heero wasn't here or he refused to let himself be spotted and those two options meant basically the same thing.
Eventually, I found myself in the hallway outside of the ballroom; it was near midnight and I was getting too tired to dance with people I barely knew; I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. I couldn't make my exit yet, and I had learned that as long as I was in the ballroom, older guests would continue to ask me to dance, trying to relive their own earliest years in the political forum. At first, I thought it to be flattering, but now it was redundant, and near midnight I was leaning against a wall pulling the pins out of my hair. Loosing myself in thought, I closed my eyes and massaged the bridge of my nose, but when I opened my eyes, I realized I was no longer alone.
The last person I expected to see was similarly leaning against the wall beside me. He wore a forest green sweater and a pair of blue jeans, instead of the formal tuxedo that the other Gundam boys wore.
"Hello, Heero," I said. I really need to work on some more conversation openings with him. Getting Heero to hold a decent conversation is hard enough without being stiff and formal.
"Hello, Relena," he responded.
"Shouldn't you be wearing something more appropriate?" I asked, gesturing at his outfit while looking back towards the ballroom. "The others were dressed like the guests."
"Others?" he asked.
"You know, Duo and Quatre and everyone."
"The other Gundam pilots are here?" Funny, he seemed a bit surprised.
"Of course they are, the negotiations that we recently settled on were not done on favorable grounds, so Lady Une sent a few preventors to watch out. Milliardo told me when he called his afternoon, I assumed you would know that sort of thing."
"You assumed I joined the Preventors." It was a statement, and I think he might have been a bit angry.
"Yes. The other Gundam pilots did, and I thought the five of you worked together."
"I don't think that's it."
"Huh?"
"You thought that because all I ever did in the time that we knew each other was fight, I would cling to that way of life, even though it has become obsolete in the peaceful world you created."
"So what have you been doing?" I asked, my curiosity over ruling my polite second nature.
He was silent, no longer facing me but looking ahead. I got the feeling that's what he had been doing; looking ahead, to the future instead of the past, looking to the peace that had been so hard won.
"You quit fighting." It was a statement, and I think he might have caught the note of wonder in my voice.
"Yeah," he confirmed softly, still facing ahead. I didn't respond verbally, but I couldn't help but grin. Even the Perfect Soldier wasn't fighting. He turned his head to look at me, probably wanting some sort of reaction. I formed a peace sign with my fingers and to my surprise, he moved his hand to touch mine.
"Where I'm from," he said, tracing my fingers with one of his own, "this means 'victory.'"
"Where I'm from, it means 'peace.'"
"In this case, I think it's the same thing." I nodded and we were both quiet for a moment and the music from the ballroom flowed into the hall. The band leader announced the last song and I curtsied low, much like I had when I convinced Heero to come to the school dance. A year and a half never seemed so far away before...
I came out of my reverie as I felt one of Heero's arms slip over my hip and around my waist, his other hand clasping one of mine, accepting the invitation. I squeezed his hand and he pulled me closer in response.
As the clock struck midnight Heero and I danced slowly, cheek to cheek. Neither of us spoke, we were just there, together. At peace.