I took an old idea; for those of you who read the Mechanic—this is much different, but it's the same story line. I'm just honing my revision skills.
Like Melting Ice
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Heerostood in the underground mobile suit hanger with his arms folded across his chest.He grimaced as he looked up at Wing Zero. It had suffered substantial damage during his last mission. It was a miracle he had even made it back to the safe house. The cockpit hatch was warped, scorched and slightly ajar. A large portion of the left wing was missing, and the circuits were exposed. The left leg was almost completely crumpled from the knee down. The left arm was missing all together. Heero sighed; He could repair it---but he did not have the facilities or parts to execute such a task.
"Need parts?" Quatre inquired. He had just entered the hanger, admiring the damage done to the Gundam. Where was his last mission, Quatre thought, On the surface of the sun? Heero nodded soundlessly. Though his face remained expressionless, Quatre could sense his gratitude. The blonde pilot gave him directions to a warehouse under the guise of a normal automobile repair shop. It was only a few miles away, and the mechanics there supported the Gundam pilots. Quatre had had Sandrock repaired there a couple times.
"Be sure to tell whoever is working the counter that Quatre sent you. They have a password—it changes frequently," Quatre advised. Heero nodded, almost distractedly. He was already mentally formulating a list of necessary parts and estimating their costs. He was not really concerned about the price; money was not an issue. Heero nodded a thank you to Quatre, and after doing some other preparations, headed to the warehouse.
The exterior of the place was unimpressive. It really maintained the appearance of an old auto body repair shop. Heero stepped through the front door, entering the lobby. It was also unremarkable: dingy floors, a few chairs, and a magazine rack. A few feet beyond the makeshift waiting area there was a gray counter. A desktop with a flat screen monitor seemed to serve as a cash register. Sitting at the computer was a girl, about his age. She had a clear, creamy complexion. Wisps of dark brown bangs framed her face, and the rest of her hair pulled into two neat French braids. She had large, warm brown eyes that were untouched by her half-hearted smile. The black material of her tank top contrasted her pale skin nicely, while hugging her slight, yet very curvy frame. Heero could not see the rest of her, because she sat behind the counter. He caught himself idly wondering what the rest of her looked like.
"How may I help you?" The dark hair girl asked. She had a smooth, sonorous voice. It had a low alto's husk, but was still very feminine. Heero nodded, and pulled out a packet of papers. It was a painfully detailed list of mobile suit parts, sizes, and simplified blue prints of his Gundam. Under normal circumstances, he would not entrust Zero to a stranger—or civilian. However, his suit was in dire need of repair. He also trusted Quatre's judgement. The girl arched an eyebrow at the documents in his hands, but said nothing.
"I need parts," Heero stated simply. She looked confused, and opened her mouth to speak. Heero spoke before she could inquire.
"Special parts." There was an emphasis on the word that was difficult to differentiate from his standard, even monotone. The girl regarded him with a cool exterior, but there was a hint of alarm in her large brown eyes.
"My friend Quatre Winner sent me," Heero offered, remembering the blonde pilot's instruction. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, her face lit up and she smiled. It still did not reach her eyes. There was a distinct, almost constant look of confusion in them. Perhaps she got lost in the war too, Heero mused to himself.
"Oh yes, Quatre! He and my brother were friends! How is he doing anyhow?" She queried, standing up. Heero forced himself to keep eye contact.
"He's fine," He replied. The girl leaned forward, extending her hand over the counter.
"My name is Nikita Triqué, and any friend of Elliot is friend of mine," She said. She had a very firm handshake. Heero's expression lessened in intensity. It was the equivalent to a smile, though barely noticeable.
"Heero Yuy. It's a pleasure." As she shook his hand, Heero noted a sudden widening of her eyes. She gasped, and bit her lip in fright. He was confused, but realized she was looking behind him. Heero let go of her hand and turned around. Through the window of the lobby, he spotted two men walking in tandem. He could spot their uniforms from miles away: The dark jackets, the intricately woven patterns of gold thread, the armbands. He had worn that uniform once. Those were OZ soldiers. They were only several seconds from entering the building. He looked back at Nikita. She was borderline frantic. Shit, Heero mentally cursed, I don't think they're here for me.
"Hide!" He hissed through gritted teeth. Heero vaulted over the counter, and hid the classified list of parts and blue prints. He had his right hand on his concealed Glock. He switched the safety off. He glanced behind him to verify that Nikita had hidden. She had done better than hiding, she had disappeared. He could not spot her anywhere. Damn, he thought, she's good. He tried not to make a habit of playing hero for strange girls, but he refused to allow OZ to interfere with Zero's repairs.
The soldiers walked in, striding in step to the counter. Both men were a few inches taller than Heero, but he was not in the least intimidated. One of them narrowed his eyes, glaring through mussed black hair.
"We are under direct orders to retrieve Nikita Triqué," The dark haired soldier grunted. Heero's expression remained vacant.
"Who?" Heero asked. Feigning ignorance seemed to be an effective ploy. The dark haired solider, leaned over the counter and furrowed his brow.
"You know who I'm talking about, boy." The soldier spat. Heero matched his glare with one his own. His cobalt blue eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He was unfazed by the soldiers scare tactics. He had the upper hand. They had not realized his hand rested on a cocked, unholstered, special issue Glock.
"No, I don't, sir." There was insolence evident in his stress on the term of respect. The soldier flushed with anger, and continued to glare. He raised his fist to strike Heero.
"I don't like your tone, boy!" He exclaimed, throwing his closed fist. Heero caught the punch, with his left hand. He clutched the man's fist until he heard the sickening, yet satisfying crunch of breaking bones. The soldier yelped in pain. Up until that point, his comrade had stood silently watching his counterpart. At the sight of physical altercation, he decided to get involved. He reached for his weapon. Heero was quicker. He fired instinctively. The soldier caught the bullet between his eyes. The man's dark haired counterpart tried reaching for his own weapon. Heero had crushed his dominant hand, and put the fumbling soldier out of his misery with a single shot.
Nikita stifled a whimper from her hiding place. The sound of gunshots frightened her. She closed her eyes and tearfully prayed that Heero Yuy was alive. She prayed that he did not suffer the same fate as her older brother. She covered her mouth with her hand, muffling her sob. Her shoulders quaked. Tears fell as she mourned the death of a perfect stranger. That poor boy, that poor, poor boy…
Heero's acute hearing picked up the sounds of very quiet sobbing. The girl, he remembered, the shots must have frightened her. The sound came from above him. He noted a dusty air vent. He reached up and pulled the vent opened. The sobbing suddenly ceased, and he heard a light gasp. Suddenly there was no sound. She thinks it's them.
"Don't be afraid. It's Heero." He stated. There was a moment of silence, then a breath of relief. She sniffled. There was no room to turn around in the small space. She began to back up towards the opening. However, she was suddenly nervous about making the jump. She could not see the height or obstacles in her way. The last thing she needed was broken leg from an unfortunate landing. Embarrassed, she called down to Heero.
"Could you help me down?"
Heero smirked. From that angle, he could finally catch a glimpse of the rest of her body. He saw a shapely calf emerge from the opening in the ceiling, then another. He placed his hands on either side of her legs, and gently pulled. A moment later, she was awkwardly in his arms—still very high in the air. She grabbed his shoulders in order to keep from falling. Nikita then slid down the front of Heero until her feet finally touched the floor. His arms lingered around her waist for a moment as she looked up into his eyes. She hugged him. He stiffened at first, but gently stroked her back after a moment.
"Thank you," She exclaimed tearfully, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She was murmuring into his shirt. He didn't mind, she was warm and smelled like roses. A moment later, she pulled away from him. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry you had to get involved, you killed them…didn't you?" She asked tentatively. He noted that she didn't turn to look at the bodies. She didn't even break eye contact. Her eyes were so tearful and lost. She reminds me of the girl and her puppy, Heero thought remorsefully. He couldn't put his finger on why.
"Yes," He stated. Heero regarded her carefully; she looked like she could burst into sobs at any given moment. But much to his surprise, she simply dried the years and turned to face the slain men. She sniffled.
"There is an incinerator; it's hot enough to melt down Gundanium. I think it should suffice."
"Where?" Heero inquired. He was intrigued by her sudden sense cool determination. He could tell she was upset, but she was putting aside to deal with the grisly task at hand. She had obviously dealt with things of equal gravity before. She stooped down and grabbed a body by the legs.
"Grab them, and I'll lead you there," She replied grunting with effort. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and took the load off of her hands. He started to remove his shirt, to avoid getting blood on it and she arched an eyebrow.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Don't want blood on my shirt." Nikita smirked, and retrieved a small flatbed from a near by closet. He hoisted the bodies onto the cart.
"It'll be easier than carrying them," She explained. Heero hoisted the bodis onto
She led him to an elevator, and punched in a 25 digit passcode. This in turn opened a second keypad. She speedily typed in another 25 digit passcode. The code was accepted and a metal plate slid up, revealing a retinal scan. Nikita held still as the device scanned her left eye. Finally, the elevator door opened. Both of them were silent on the ride down. Heero could hardly keep track of the floors descended. He knew they were going several stories below ground. The door opened revealing another door. It was round, with reinforced steel. There was another keypad on the frame. She repeated the procedure for getting into the elevator and the door opened, revealing an immense room.
"Hello, Nikita," a female voice greeted.
The two of them walked into the room. There were mobile suit parts hanging on the walls, categorized by type. Impressive, Heero thought. She led him to the incinerator, where he effortlessly disposed of the bodies. Once that task was done, she explained the arrangement of the part. After directing to him to where he'd find the best parts for his type of mobile suit, she turned towards the elevator.
"Where are you going?"
"I've gotta clean up that mess you made back there," She said. Her lips were twisted into a dark, yet exceedingly attractive smirk.
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What do you think? Please, review.
-Sylver