Title: Query
Author: Sailor Seraphim (slrsera @ aol.com)
Archive:
l.e.t.h.a.l.t.h.o.u.g.h.t.s. :: I lost my webpage, dammit. Now I need to move servers. ____;;
FanFiction.net :: http://fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=39868
Final Triumph :: http://www.geocities.com/finaltriumph
Emy's Archive :: http://emy.gwyaoi.com
All others please ask.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of tasty shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Pairings: 11+13, 2+11(?)
Warnings: graveyards, old memories, a little "spiritual" influence?
Spoilers: TV Series and Endless Waltz, at least certain parts of them.
Notes: I'm sticking this fic under my Blue Series, since that's what I originally wrote it for. However, the psuedo-sequel to this fic will not be part of Blue. This one is... strange. It didn't turn out they way I expected, but I like it. You'll see what I mean when I get to the end.
Feedback: I take all constructive criticism. No flames, they leave nasty scorch marks on the carpet.
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"Hang out with dead people a lot, Une?"
Une's eyebrow twitched in annoyance and she looked up from where she had been staring at Treize Khushrenada's headstone and shot a frosty look at the person who had dared to interrupt her respects.
There, sitting on a headstone a few feet away and kicking his heels against the cold stone, was Duo Maxwell. Well, it was no wonder that she had not heard the man sneak up on her. With him working under her in the Preventers, Une was well aware of Maxwell's extraordinary skill in infiltration and stealth.
"Is there a reason you have sought me out, Maxwell?" Une snapped out crisply.
The young man just shook his head, his braid swinging around behind him with the vigorous motions. "Nah, I'm just kicking it here with old Jack."
Duo patted the headstone beneath him and Une read the carved words, 'John Winfield -- Beloved Husband and Father.'
"Jack's not too much of a conversationalist, but he's a really great listener. The question is, Une, what you're doing here in a graveyard on a Saturday."
Une sniffed and turned away. "I could ask you the same question, Maxwell."
Duo just laughed, and Une could hear the thump of his boots as he alighted from the headstone and moved to stand by her side. The Preventer's Head bristled uncomfortably as the American invaded her personal space, his arm brushing against her shoulder. With a sideways glace, Une realized that the ex-Gundam pilot was now taller than her. Her head only reached his shoulder; her mind jumped at that and told her unnecessarily that he was the same height as--
"Treize Khushrenada."
Une flinched at the sound of Maxwell's voice. She took a little step away from him; through she refused to give up her spot at the foot of Treize's grave.
"D'ya spend all your Saturdays like this, Une? Mourning for a dead man? Should you not put your interests in the living instead, Lady?"
Une didn't like the way Maxwell had phrased that question. There was something in his voice that did not quite match up to the image she always had in her mind; the one of the irrepressible light-hearted young man. Now his voice seemed to have taken a curious tone, pitched deeper and smoother in its seriousness. She focused on Maxwell's face, but there was nothing there but a sort of sad wonder and curiosity.
"I should ask you the same thing, Duo *Maxwell*." Une stressed the man's last name purposefully; she knew of Maxwell Church -- had read the reports while she was still a member of the Federation -- and her status as Duo's supervisor gave her the opportunity to know just how the young man had taken his surname. But it rankled her, to have someone question what she did on her personal time. She could feel that anger boiling deep within her chest. "If you have so much time to question what your superiors do on their off-time, I obviously haven't been assigning you enough missions."
Instead of a witty comeback, or a sarcastic snap of his temper, Duo just shook his head at her, as if she were some small child. "How is Mariemaia?"
Taken aback, Une forced down her rancor and managed to answer politely, "Mariemaia is fine." Then with the strange light in Duo Maxwell's eyes pulling at her, she continued. "She still has to undergo physical therapy once a week, but she's been out of the wheelchair since last year. Her studies are quite advanced, and I am considering sending her to a boarding school once her condition is better."
Duo just nodded, absorbing the information on the red-haired girl as if he were genuinely interested in it. Then those violet eyes drifted to Treize's headstone for a moment before looking at her again.
"Do you take her to visit here, too?"
"When she asks. The last time she came here with me was on Christmas."
"Anniversary."
It wasn't really a question, not even phrased as such. Yet Une felt compelled to answer, "Yes."
A strange smile crossed Duo's lips. "So what do you tell Mariemaia about her father? Surely you do not leave everything she knows of him up to what the books and journalists say."
Une snorted derisively. "Those fools know nothing of what Treize-sama was truly like! Even Dekim Barton managed to warp Mariemaia's view of him."
"What do you tell her then?"
Une looked away, unable to meet the fierce look in the young man's eyes. A voice in her head told her she was being foolish for engaging in such conversation, but she still felt compelled. Like a moth to the light, Une felt herself pulled forward so that she could lay her hand against the smooth marble of Treize's headstone.
"I tell Mariemaia that her father was a man of ideals, a dreamer forced into reality. I tell her that he loved life and people above all else, but he was willing to risk those lives to preserve the rest. Treize-sama was not one to take sacrifice lightly."
"You love him."
Again, it was not a question. Une did not feel obligated to answer. But that hardly mattered, as Duo continued to speak after a moment's pause.
"You love him, not *loved*. In your heart, you still have an image of Treize that blinds you to the real world. How long will you fool yourself, Lady? When will you wake up and realize that he is dead? How long will you continue to live a half-life, not really moving forward the way Treize would have wanted--"
Duo's speech was cut off as Une's hand cut through the air, landing resoundingly against his cheek. The man's head snapped to the side with the force of the slap, and his violet eyes glittered ominously at the woman. Une was breathing hard, her chest heaving with emotion, her hand still outstretched for that long instant where it seemed as if time itself had frozen. Then she lowered her hand, trying to calm herself.
"How *dare* you speak of what Treize-sama in that manner! You never knew him! He was simply your enemy during the War. How dare you presume what Treize could have wanted or wished for. You didn't know him!"
"And you do, Lady?"
"Of course, I knew him! I love him! And everyday I have to live with the fact that I never knew how he felt about me... I have to live with the guilt of knowing that I simply wasn't good enough... that he didn't think enough of me for him to tell me that he was planning to die!"
Overcome, Une spun around, refusing to show Maxwell her face. She clenched her fists tight at her sides, refusing to wrap them around herself in an empty parody of an embrace that Treize had never seen fit to give her.
It was the sudden, unexpected change in equilibrium that had startled Une most. Without notice, she was pulled back against a firm, broad chest. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her torso from behind, and it was all Une could do to stifle her startled shriek under a loud gasp. And before she could do anything... before she could whirl around to berate that intolerable Maxwell for acting in such a manner with her, a husky tenor whispered in her ear.
"You have never disappointed me, and I have always cherished you, my dearest Lady..."
Looking down at the arms that trapped her and held her close, Une could see the hint of gold embroidery on the cuffs of a royal blue jacket. She could feel tears springing to her eyes and squeezed them shut against the familiar sounding voice. Her vision closed, she could focus on the sound of the voice, the faint fragrance of roses that tickled her nostrils, the warmth of the body so near to her. Then, realizing what was happening, Une's hazel eyes shot open.
But too late.
The warm and comfortable embrace had already departed. Whirling around, all Une could see was Duo Maxwell's black-clad back making its way around the graves and headstones. His long chestnut braid swayed back and forth with every step, and he was whistling a jaunty tune. Shaken, Lady Une collapsed down on her knees, surely ruining her tailored slacks against the grass and dirt. She leaned against Treize's headstone, one hand drifting to trace the letters of his name.
"Treize..." she whispered.
Then, finally, she cried.
-- owari --
Author: Sailor Seraphim (slrsera @ aol.com)
Archive:
l.e.t.h.a.l.t.h.o.u.g.h.t.s. :: I lost my webpage, dammit. Now I need to move servers. ____;;
FanFiction.net :: http://fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=39868
Final Triumph :: http://www.geocities.com/finaltriumph
Emy's Archive :: http://emy.gwyaoi.com
All others please ask.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of tasty shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Pairings: 11+13, 2+11(?)
Warnings: graveyards, old memories, a little "spiritual" influence?
Spoilers: TV Series and Endless Waltz, at least certain parts of them.
Notes: I'm sticking this fic under my Blue Series, since that's what I originally wrote it for. However, the psuedo-sequel to this fic will not be part of Blue. This one is... strange. It didn't turn out they way I expected, but I like it. You'll see what I mean when I get to the end.
Feedback: I take all constructive criticism. No flames, they leave nasty scorch marks on the carpet.
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"Hang out with dead people a lot, Une?"
Une's eyebrow twitched in annoyance and she looked up from where she had been staring at Treize Khushrenada's headstone and shot a frosty look at the person who had dared to interrupt her respects.
There, sitting on a headstone a few feet away and kicking his heels against the cold stone, was Duo Maxwell. Well, it was no wonder that she had not heard the man sneak up on her. With him working under her in the Preventers, Une was well aware of Maxwell's extraordinary skill in infiltration and stealth.
"Is there a reason you have sought me out, Maxwell?" Une snapped out crisply.
The young man just shook his head, his braid swinging around behind him with the vigorous motions. "Nah, I'm just kicking it here with old Jack."
Duo patted the headstone beneath him and Une read the carved words, 'John Winfield -- Beloved Husband and Father.'
"Jack's not too much of a conversationalist, but he's a really great listener. The question is, Une, what you're doing here in a graveyard on a Saturday."
Une sniffed and turned away. "I could ask you the same question, Maxwell."
Duo just laughed, and Une could hear the thump of his boots as he alighted from the headstone and moved to stand by her side. The Preventer's Head bristled uncomfortably as the American invaded her personal space, his arm brushing against her shoulder. With a sideways glace, Une realized that the ex-Gundam pilot was now taller than her. Her head only reached his shoulder; her mind jumped at that and told her unnecessarily that he was the same height as--
"Treize Khushrenada."
Une flinched at the sound of Maxwell's voice. She took a little step away from him; through she refused to give up her spot at the foot of Treize's grave.
"D'ya spend all your Saturdays like this, Une? Mourning for a dead man? Should you not put your interests in the living instead, Lady?"
Une didn't like the way Maxwell had phrased that question. There was something in his voice that did not quite match up to the image she always had in her mind; the one of the irrepressible light-hearted young man. Now his voice seemed to have taken a curious tone, pitched deeper and smoother in its seriousness. She focused on Maxwell's face, but there was nothing there but a sort of sad wonder and curiosity.
"I should ask you the same thing, Duo *Maxwell*." Une stressed the man's last name purposefully; she knew of Maxwell Church -- had read the reports while she was still a member of the Federation -- and her status as Duo's supervisor gave her the opportunity to know just how the young man had taken his surname. But it rankled her, to have someone question what she did on her personal time. She could feel that anger boiling deep within her chest. "If you have so much time to question what your superiors do on their off-time, I obviously haven't been assigning you enough missions."
Instead of a witty comeback, or a sarcastic snap of his temper, Duo just shook his head at her, as if she were some small child. "How is Mariemaia?"
Taken aback, Une forced down her rancor and managed to answer politely, "Mariemaia is fine." Then with the strange light in Duo Maxwell's eyes pulling at her, she continued. "She still has to undergo physical therapy once a week, but she's been out of the wheelchair since last year. Her studies are quite advanced, and I am considering sending her to a boarding school once her condition is better."
Duo just nodded, absorbing the information on the red-haired girl as if he were genuinely interested in it. Then those violet eyes drifted to Treize's headstone for a moment before looking at her again.
"Do you take her to visit here, too?"
"When she asks. The last time she came here with me was on Christmas."
"Anniversary."
It wasn't really a question, not even phrased as such. Yet Une felt compelled to answer, "Yes."
A strange smile crossed Duo's lips. "So what do you tell Mariemaia about her father? Surely you do not leave everything she knows of him up to what the books and journalists say."
Une snorted derisively. "Those fools know nothing of what Treize-sama was truly like! Even Dekim Barton managed to warp Mariemaia's view of him."
"What do you tell her then?"
Une looked away, unable to meet the fierce look in the young man's eyes. A voice in her head told her she was being foolish for engaging in such conversation, but she still felt compelled. Like a moth to the light, Une felt herself pulled forward so that she could lay her hand against the smooth marble of Treize's headstone.
"I tell Mariemaia that her father was a man of ideals, a dreamer forced into reality. I tell her that he loved life and people above all else, but he was willing to risk those lives to preserve the rest. Treize-sama was not one to take sacrifice lightly."
"You love him."
Again, it was not a question. Une did not feel obligated to answer. But that hardly mattered, as Duo continued to speak after a moment's pause.
"You love him, not *loved*. In your heart, you still have an image of Treize that blinds you to the real world. How long will you fool yourself, Lady? When will you wake up and realize that he is dead? How long will you continue to live a half-life, not really moving forward the way Treize would have wanted--"
Duo's speech was cut off as Une's hand cut through the air, landing resoundingly against his cheek. The man's head snapped to the side with the force of the slap, and his violet eyes glittered ominously at the woman. Une was breathing hard, her chest heaving with emotion, her hand still outstretched for that long instant where it seemed as if time itself had frozen. Then she lowered her hand, trying to calm herself.
"How *dare* you speak of what Treize-sama in that manner! You never knew him! He was simply your enemy during the War. How dare you presume what Treize could have wanted or wished for. You didn't know him!"
"And you do, Lady?"
"Of course, I knew him! I love him! And everyday I have to live with the fact that I never knew how he felt about me... I have to live with the guilt of knowing that I simply wasn't good enough... that he didn't think enough of me for him to tell me that he was planning to die!"
Overcome, Une spun around, refusing to show Maxwell her face. She clenched her fists tight at her sides, refusing to wrap them around herself in an empty parody of an embrace that Treize had never seen fit to give her.
It was the sudden, unexpected change in equilibrium that had startled Une most. Without notice, she was pulled back against a firm, broad chest. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her torso from behind, and it was all Une could do to stifle her startled shriek under a loud gasp. And before she could do anything... before she could whirl around to berate that intolerable Maxwell for acting in such a manner with her, a husky tenor whispered in her ear.
"You have never disappointed me, and I have always cherished you, my dearest Lady..."
Looking down at the arms that trapped her and held her close, Une could see the hint of gold embroidery on the cuffs of a royal blue jacket. She could feel tears springing to her eyes and squeezed them shut against the familiar sounding voice. Her vision closed, she could focus on the sound of the voice, the faint fragrance of roses that tickled her nostrils, the warmth of the body so near to her. Then, realizing what was happening, Une's hazel eyes shot open.
But too late.
The warm and comfortable embrace had already departed. Whirling around, all Une could see was Duo Maxwell's black-clad back making its way around the graves and headstones. His long chestnut braid swayed back and forth with every step, and he was whistling a jaunty tune. Shaken, Lady Une collapsed down on her knees, surely ruining her tailored slacks against the grass and dirt. She leaned against Treize's headstone, one hand drifting to trace the letters of his name.
"Treize..." she whispered.
Then, finally, she cried.
-- owari --