A/N: Lol…I feel like such a hypocrite. I used to hate songfics…now here I am, writing one. But honestly, this song is too seductive to resist. It called out to me like, well, the sound of a Spanish guitar, one of the most beautiful instruments in the world to listen to! I picked this couple because its been such a long time since I've even thought about Gundam Wing…and these two were honestly one of the more background couples.

Disclaimer: The song below is "Spanish Guitar" by the prolific Toni Braxton. She is more than welcome to all the rights for this sexy song! Also, Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me either, although I'm sure there's some of you out there who would love to covet it. So enjoy!

By the way, I would definitely recommend listening to this song while reading. So get it if you can, or at least listen to some Spanish guitar music! And most of all, review!

Spanish Guitar


Noin entered the tiny café buried among the late night shops still open in the colony. For the hundredth time, she wondered why Zechs came here to this dump. Everytime they rested here between missions, her commander would disappear, often for the entire night, then reappear later, quiet as always. It wasn't as if he was mysterious already, but she had known him for years; coming here was a new trend.

So curious, she sat down among the eclectic crowd, feeling oddly at ease with the odd mix of customers. She had tried to mimic the dress of customers, but saw as she entered that she need not have bothered. Still the light, white sleeveless top and the long, flowing crinkled white skirt blended well with the style of most of the other females.

The lighting was dark and smoke filled the air, generated from the incense lanterns and guests alike. At a quick glance, Noin could tell there were people from all social classes among the patrons. But they all seemed to share the same rapt attention to the music. Some people danced in a center space, holding onto beer bottles with one hand, the other hand fast around their partner's waist or hip.

More and more people entered the establishment. It made things a bit crowded, but no one seemed to care. A saxophone played in the background, giving pulse to the dancers' motion. The feel of the place seemed dark, almost sensual; a smooth combination of wildness and lazy contentedness. Noin would never usually be caught dead in a dive like this, and she assumed Zechs wouldn't either. 'Speaking of Zechs,' she thought to herself, 'I followed him into this place, and now I've lost him.' She sat up in the cheap chair, looking around.

A drunk civilian passed close to her, too close, making a clumsy swipe to her arm. Noin was out of her seat instantly, backing away. She fingered her gun at her hip in an almost nervous gesture. 'That's it, I'm out of here.' She thought, frustrated, beginning to head out.

It was then she heard the soft strings of a Spanish guitar. It caught her as if it was a spell; entranced her, propelled her gently to a side seat, where she had a perfect view of the stage.

A smoky room a small café
They come to hear you play
And drink and dance the night away

The patrons seemed as lost as Noin felt. They swayed to the music, taken up in the spell of the guitar strings. Noin watched the guitarist play for a while; there was something oddly familiar about him; his blond, almost silver hair fell around his upper body like a silken cloak. He wore a white, collared shirt, open at the moment, baring well-defined muscles, and loose khaki trousers, similar to many of the males dancing in the crowd. At odd moments, he would look up, and she could catch a glimpse of light-colored eyes. 'Blue.' Noin thought, confirming her deepest suspicions. As the first song quickly fell into the next, then another, she fell deep under its seductive spell.

She had long since admitted to herself her attraction for Zechs. After all, who couldn't fall for his good looks? She also knew there was no future in such a relationship, if any occurred, and so let the notion pass. However, a moment like this reminded her how strongly she felt for the commanding officer. She closed her eyes to the thought.

I sit out in the crowd
And close my eyes
Dream you're mine
But you don't know
You don't even know that I am there

Zechs played on, a smooth melody on the guitar. 'Or is it Milliardo now, as he isn't wearing that mask?' Her mind wandered on a path where she called him by his real name, freely. As the thoughts progressed into a more dangerous idea, Noin dismissed them. 'He probably doesn't even realize I'm watching him.' She thought realistically. Yet she couldn't help feeling that the song was meant to ensnare her. 'I would be dead if there was an attack on me now.' The idea didn't even panic her. With her eyes still closed, head tilted back, she imagined.


I wish that I was in your arms
Like that spanish guitar
And you would play me through the night
'till the dawn


I wish you'd hold me in your arms
Like that spanish guitar
All night long

all night long


I'd be your song

I'd be your song

She imagined Milliardo, putting aside the guitar, holding her in his arms. They were dancing among the patrons, swaying to their own beat, their own song. Then he would lean down, brushing her lips, still moving in a slow circle. Her lips parted slightly, allowing him entrance.


Steal my heart with every note you play
I pray you'll look my way
And hold me to your heart someday

As he kissed her, his hands moved her closer, trailing over and under her light top. He caressed her back, softly kneading as the kiss deepened. Still, they moved to the intricate guitar music.


I long to be the one that you caress with tenderness
And you don't know
You don't even know that I exist

She opened her eyes, holding the daydream away. 'No future.' She reminded herself. But here in the smoky café, with the music, so slow and deep, she felt almost drunk. Anything could happen here. And she could certainly give way to a few idle sensations. Zechs kept playing for what seemed like hours; a stream of guitar melodies, some fast, some slow, but all fading into one rhythmic beat. The music drugged her again, rolled over her, coercing her into pleasure-filled fantasies where Milliardo played a completely different instrument.


I wish that I was in your arms
Like that spanish guitar
And you would play me through the night
'till the dawn
I wish you'd hold me in your arms
Like that spanish guitar
All night long all night long
I'd be your song I'd be your song

She didn't realize when the music had faded. Her mind still played the soft guitar music in her mind, lulling her to a near stupor. Her eyes were closed, head tilted towards the ceiling, listening to the imagined strings in the air.

She awoke to the sensation of lips against hers, a soft non-insistent pressure. A rough, calloused hand gently stroked her cheek. So far gone was she that she opened her mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen.

The one who kissed her continued for a long moment, then parted, hand falling away. Noin opened her eyes.

"Thanks for waiting." Zechs murmured, smiling down at the slightly dazed woman.

"No problem. That's what partners do, right?" She smiled back, feeling her heart beat in a most unmilitary-like way.

"One dance before we leave?" He asked her, offering a hand up.

She nodded. For tonight, she took his hand. He pulled her up, close to his body, holding her tight. "Nice outfit, Noin." He spoke against her neck.

New music played from the stage; a new guitar, offering its life to the café.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Milliardo." She replied, swaying slightly to the pulse. He moved with her.

"Our secret?" He whispered, turning her head slightly. Violet eyes met light blue. She nodded, leaning up to kiss again. They danced to the melody of the guitar in the small, dark, crowded café.

Tomorrow she would go back to being the officer.