It's me again. You just seem to find me everywhere, doncha? And this time, I'm writing about my fav G Gundam character, the ever polite gentleman George de Sand. *sigh* I think I'm in love… Oh yeah. This story is gonna be written from the point of view of George and Renee. So almost every time there is one of those "time elapse things", it probably means that the POV changed, 'kay?

DISCLAIMER: You really don't want to see the long list of (disturbing) things I'd do if I owned G Gundam. I do own Renee, though.

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Mobile Fighter G Gundam: Promise of a Rose

Chapter I: A Meeting in the Rain

"Raymond, you have been absent three days this past week. May I ask what is ailing you?" I asked politely, worried about my good butler's health.

"Family issues, Master George," Raymond replied with a sad sigh. "My niece is having trouble staying employed."

I leaned forward on the coffee table. "You never told me you had a niece!" I exclaimed, slightly offended and quite a bit taken aback.

"Several, in fact," the man informed me. "And five nephews." Raymond walked over to the table I was sitting at and handed me my tea.

"Thank you," I murmured and took the cup from his outstretched hand. "Where do they live?" I questioned after taking a sip of my tea.

"New Orleans, I think. Alexander never was keen on keeping in touch with his family," Raymond answered.

I raised an eyebrow quizzically. "New Orleans, Neo-America?"

Raymond nodded.

I shivered just at the thought of that unruly, unorthodox city. "All of them are from New Orleans?" I asked, curious to learn about Raymond's relations.

"Oui," Raymond responded in French. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small wallet. Moving to my side, he flipped through a few pictures until he found the one he was searching for. "This," he said and pointed to the picture of a rather large family, "is Alexander's family." I looked down at the picture he was holding in front of me. There were three brown-haired woman and six brown-haired men. The oldest lady I assumed was Alexander's wife. She looked…common, with no spark of life in her green eyes. I noticed that same trait in the other two girls. Daughters, I figured. My attention then shifted to the men of the large family. Alexander had ripples of white streaked through his dull brown hair and a wispy mustache. Three of his sons had goatees, and the other two thick mustaches. I noticed that none of the males had light in their eyes, either. Servants, I realized as I noticed their black attire. Dead family, I finally surmised.

"Which one is having a difficulty in finding an occupation, if you don't mind my asking?" I wondered, looking up at Raymond.

"Oh. She's…erm…not in the picture," Raymond explained.

"Why?" I asked before taking another drink of my tea.

Raymond stiffened noticeably and withdrew the wallet from my line of vision. "She's a disgrace to the family. Renee never managed to keep a job for more than a month."

"I see," I said curtly and concentrated on my steaming drink once more. Yet I couldn't help but wonder if this failure Renee was as devoid of life as the others in her family. "Do…" I was hesitant to push the matter any farther, but continued, "Do you have a picture of mademoiselle Renee?"

Raymond chuckled. "As a matter of fact, Master George," Raymond told me, "I do." He flipped through a couple more photos and showed me a picture. My eyes widened in shock. This girl couldn't be related to the group of lifeless people I had seen moments ago! Her curly blond hair cascaded down her shoulders and she had a look of excitement and…longing…in her bright hazel eyes. I gasped as I noticed her revealing attire that consisted of only a tight blue tank-top (Chibodee had been kind enough to teach me the official word for that scandalous shirt) and black jeans. "…Renee despises her job." I realized Raymond was talking to me. "It's a pity that a girl with as powerful an ambition as hers has to be so incompetent," my butler said with a sigh and put his wallet back in his pocket. "She's much more interested in Gundams than being a servant."

"Gundams?" I echoed quietly.

"Yes. Renee loves Gundam schematics. I used to send her some on Gundam Rose, but Alexander banned me from doing so," Raymond informed me.

"Does she know a significant amount of information on the subject?" I asked.

"Yes, actually. I just heard she lost her job again, and I was hoping that she could come with us and work on the Gundam Rose," Raymond said, toying with his jacket sleeve.

"I don't see why not. If she can fix a Gundam, help would be welcome. Truth tell, I think you are a bit…old to be doing it on your own," I said. I did not want to offend him by saying that he was past his prime, but I really did think he needed assistance.

"Thank you Master George. She should be here by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? You mean to say you already arranged this?" I was surprised, to say the least.

"Well, yes. I was almost sure you wouldn't turn down an offer for a mechanic, especially with me not as young as I used to be," Raymond explained with a smile. "And there's the plus of her being your age as well." Then he walked away before I could respond.

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I looked at the map in my hands with a frustrated sigh. Damn map. Raymond knows I can't read French, I muttered silently, struggling with the foreign language. Why couldn't the old man just come and pick me up or send a cab or somethin'? After consulting my ever-handy computerized French dictionary, I discovered that I was supposed to…take the highway for eight miles? I dug into my back pocket, trying to find a buck or two for a cab. Wonderful. Neo-French cabs don't accept Neo-American currency, I realized with another depressed sigh and stuffed my ten-dollar bill back into the far reaches of my jeans.

Being the rash idiot I am, I decided there was only one thing for me to do: walk the distance. So, lugging a ten-pound suitcase and a backpack behind me, I found my way to the freeway and started walking…in the wrong direction, of course. It took me approximately an hour to realize I did not want to go to Orleans. Paris would do just fine, thank you. And so I hauled myself back to my starting point and began again.

Lucky me, it began to rain, and tank-tops don't usually come with hoods. Crumpled map in hand, I started tramping along a road, this time headed in the right direction. Splattered with mud, freezing to death; this was not how I had expected to spend my first day abroad.

Twenty wrong turns and a thousand puddles later, I finally found myself in front of a large mansion—more like a palace, actually. "Lemme in," I snapped to the guard, wringing some water out of my drenched hair.

The guard stiffened. "May I ask why you wish to gain entrance to the Neo-French palace?" he asked.

I stopped trying to dry my hair and stared at the man in distaste. " 'Cause I'm gonna work here, you big oaf!"

"You're name, please?" the guard questioned. I could tell he was angry with me from the way his nostrils were flaring.

"Bishop. Renee Bishop," I muttered.

The guard flipped through a few pieces of soaking wet paper on his clipboard. "I'm sorry, madam, but your name is not on this list," he explained; I could have sworn that he was lying.

I grunted in exasperation and walked up to the intercom at the gate. "George de Sand, let me in this minute! If you don't want me here, at least have the decency to tell me!" I shouted into the speaker and turned to glare at the stupid guard some more. When my uncle finally arrived at the gate, I gave the sentry a look that I hoped said, "Told ya so."

"Renee! Dear girl, what took you so long?" Raymond asked as he scanned me over. I noticed he had been smart enough to bring an umbrella for me, too.

"First: I can't read French and so that map you gave me was completely useless. Two: my dictionary was wrong so I had no clue where to go. Three: people here don't accept Neo-American currency. Four: I started in the wrong direction. Five: it began to rain and I don't have a raincoat. Six: the people here aren't that good at giving directions; seven: it took me two hours to walk here. Eight: that stupid guard wouldn't let me in," I said sharply then lapsed into a spree of oaths.

Raymond's eyes widened in horror. "Please, Renee, watch your language. The princess does reside here after all."

"I have a strange feeling she's not as innocent as you want her to be," I retorted.

My uncle sighed. "I see you have not changed much over the years," he noticed. "Follow me." Raymond walked through the gate, me at his heels. "How was the flight?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"You could have just sent a cab for me," I muttered.

"Please Renee. At least try to act dignified," Raymond pleaded. "Now, how was your flight?" he repeated.

"Fine, I guess," I replied with a sigh. "Beside the fact that they didn't have any vegetarian meals and that the bitch sitting behind me was snoring the entire time, yeah, it was great."

Raymond turned to stare at me disapprovingly. "Do you want this job or not?" he challenged. That got me quiet. I wanted the job more than anything.

As we walked in silence, I couldn't help but notice the numerous rose gardens we passed. There must have been thousands of various colored roses sprinkled throughout millions of neatly trimmed bushes. I loved roses, even though they reminded me of my hateful family. I was tempted to pick a few, but decided that the gardener would probably have my head if I did. This was a palace, after all, and everything had to be perfect.

I was brought out of my thoughts as a head of bright red hair came into my view. George de Sand, Jack of Diamonds in the Shuffle Alliance, pilot of the Gundam Rose, or, as I preferred to call him, Frenchie. Oh yes. Just reading about Chibodee Crockett was a bad influence. George was sitting at a table, sheltered from the rain by a patio-roof. He was playing with the handle of a teacup, obviously daydreaming.

"Master George," Raymond introduced, "may I present my youngest niece, Renee Antoinette Bishop."

George shook his head and stood up, looking me over. He walked up to me and bowed, then took my hand and kissed it. "Charmed, I'm sure," he murmured and stood up.

I started to courtesy, but then realized that I wasn't wearing a skirt, so ended up making my clumsy courtesy a pathetic bow. "Um…Hi," I managed to say. "Do you think we could get out of this rain?" I noticed George flinch at the last word. "I'm sort of freezing my butt off here and would really like change into something a bit dryer." The look of appall on George's face almost sent me rolling on the cobblestone floor in a fit of giggles. Almost. I managed to stifle the laugh with my hand.

"Y—Yes. I was just going to suggest that myself," George said once he had recovered from the initial shock of my words.

Raymond glared at me as we walked into the gigantic palace. "I warned you not to do that," he whispered fiercely.

I shrugged. "Sorry, Uncle. Couldn't help it," I replied with an innocent smile.

"Tell me what you know about the Gundam Rose," George instructed, cutting me short.

"Gundam Rose. Pilot: George de Sand. Serial Number: GF13-009NF. Nationality: Neo-France. Height: 16.2 meters. Dry weight: 7.2 tons. Full weight: 13.1 tons. Weapons: rose bits x many, chevalier beam saber x 1, head vulcan x 2. Ultimate attacks: Roses Screamer, Roses Hurricane. Power: 16.51. Speed: 25.11. Offense: 18.11. Defense: 17.94. Search: 24.36. Adaptation: 16.22. Total: 117.65," I recited.

George turned to look at me. "Please, mademoiselle, try to be honest. Tell me what you know about the Gundam Rose from memory, not from a slip of paper you hid up your sleeve."

"That WAS from memory! I know everything there is to know about Gundam Rose! And besides," I pointed out smugly, calming down a bit, "I don't have any sleeves."

Raymond chuckled. "She does have a point there, Master George," he agreed.

The Gundam fighter blushed. "Forgive me, mademoiselle," he apologized quietly. "I have never met anyone who knew all the statistics from memory. You are quite a find."

I reached up and pulled on George's long bangs—hard. In response, I got a loud yelp. "Gee thanks, Frenchie," I murmured. "With all that hair in your head, who would have known that you had a brain, however small it may be?" I teased.

"Master George," Raymond observed, "I think you may be in over your head."

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Ookies. Finally found a way to end that chapter. Phew. So how do you like it so far? I've gone through SEVEN drafts of this chapter before I got it straight. Now all I have to do is think of a thousand ways for Renee to get on George's nerves. MWAHAHAHAHA! Ooooh! This is going to be so fun! Actually, George is my favorite character. But that's beside the point. Now all I have to do is lock myself in a room until I get some ideas. Joy! Oh, yeah. But first I get to go to SunCoast and buy episodes of G Gundam! Yes! Yes! Yes! *runs off like the Mad Hatter (does the Mad Hatter even run?)*

Until I'm done watching my G Gundam episodes and have enough ideas for one more chapter,

~* ShadowTide *~