Title: A Year In the Life.
Disclaimers: GW doesn't belong to me etc, etc… All lyrics used are also copyrighted to their respective owners. Only the storyline and the original character belongs to me.
Author's note: I wrote this quite some time ago and it is one of my very first fan fictions, so I apologize if it is a little rough and not that very good *scuffs feet shyly*. I am putting it up at the request of some of my friends who wanted to read some of my earlier work.
I hope you enjoy it and please leave a review if you feel like it ^_~
***
It was strange. He could hardly recognise the blue eyes that were staring back at him from the mirror. What was strange was that he had been staring into the same perfectly clear blue eyes for the past twenty years. After a few moments of gazing at his reflection, it struck him. They had lost the haunted look he had acquired over the past few years. He wondered how had he had become to be like this, so heartless, so jaded. But there were no easy answers, there never were for him. He had chosen his path in life and lived with it. He couldn't allow himself to feel regret, it would have driven him mad long ago to do so. But now however his eyes were clear, as was his conscience.
Putting one hand up to stroke his cheek, he marvelled at how thin he had become. But it hadn't diminished his startling good looks one bit. If anything, it made the cheekbones on his finely featured face stand out more, framing his clear blue eyes and setting off his long white blond hair. A sapphire set in platinum. But the man once known as the Lightning Count was never vain. All he saw were dark shadows under his eyes and a haggard look to his face. But then again, he looked good for a man who had been left floating in space. He surely would have died if it hadn't been picked up by a passing space junk cruiser. Even then he had hovered between life and death for another week before finally emerging from his coma. After nursing him back to health, the people on the ship left him relatively alone, something for which he was extremely grateful. It was as if they sensed that he wanted to be alone, that he didn't want to talk.
Or perhaps they realised that they had just saved Milliardo Peacecraft, leader of the rebel group White Fang, the man who had masterminded the destruction of earth. Perhaps in their hearts they just wanted to let him die, to pay for the lives that had been lost because he insisted on a war. But in the end they just let him live, maybe because they sensed that there was some good in him that he would be of more use alive. They had then taken him back to earth, smuggling him past immigration. The leaders of the ship were a married couple who had accompanied him to the train station. When he opened his mouth to thank them, the lady whose wide grey eyes were sad with all the death she had seen in her life shook her head, stopping the words at his lips. She kissed him on the cheek while at the same time pressed some money into his hand. She then grabbed her husband's hand and they both disappeared into the crowd.
Shaking his head as if to clear the memories Zechs grabbed his light fawn coat and made his way outside. It was spring and the trees were just beginning to burst into leaf. Their smattering of light green contrasted sharply with the clear blue sky. Taking a deep breath inhaling the sweet perfume of grass and flowers that tainted the wind, for the first time in a long while Zechs felt lucky to be alive. He felt free, that he was no longer carrying the baggage of either Milliardo Peacecraft or Zechs Merquise. To the world they were both dead, and with that he could live again. When he first came back to earth, his first thought was to get back into space as soon as possible. Money wasn't an issue. Before he had joined up with White Fang, he had set up an untraceable bank account in the name of Meriz Quechse, an anagram of Zechs Merquise. In it he had accumulated a small fortune, some left over from Sanc Kingdom as well as what White Fang had paid him.
No it wasn't money. It was just the longer he spent on earth, the more reluctant he felt to leave. Perhaps he was a son of the earth after all, born and bred. It was as if the earth had forgotten what he had tried to do to it, like a mother would forgive a child that threw a violent tantrum at her. They had reconciled and the earth bore him no malice. So armed with his fortune he decided to travel the world. He was still only twenty yet what he had gone through made him feel much older and it showed. It showed in the way that he carried himself, with a natural confidence that had made him a prime soldier and a great leader.
But today he was neither. Today he was going to do something extremely mundane. He was going to have a hair cut. One of the most basic things in the world, but to him it felt alien. But it made him feel normal, something he now realised he wanted extremely badly. He was in Spain, welcoming the warm sunshine on his shoulders after experiencing the chilliness of both Germany and Russia. He had been to Barcelona until on a whim he decided to rent a car and drive through the countryside. That was how he came to be here. In the small town of San Tibaldo searching for a barber.
He had contemplated doing it himself, but he knew he would just look like a lawnmower driven by a blind man had attacked him. In a town so small he had no trouble finding a barber. Actually it was more like a hairdressers. Perhaps the men in town thought it was extravagant to let someone else cut their hair he thought. Pushing open the door, the light tinkling of a bell heralded his arrival and a silvery laugh greeted him.
'Amanda you should really not let him do that to you,' the girl who had laughed admonished her friend sitting in one of the battered chairs. The other girl looked ruefully up at her.
'I know but..' the one called Amanda stopped mid-sentence noticing Zechs's presence, 'you have a customer dear.'
'Sorry, have you been waiting long?' the other girl asked in perfect accentless English.
'No I'm sorry for having interrupted your conversation,' Zechs the ever- perfect gentlemen answered. Actually it had given him time to observe the both of them. Amanda was pretty with sandy blond hair and deep brown eyes but the other girl was extremely beautiful. Tall and slender with black hair that fell down her back like a waterfall and deep, gold flecked emerald green eyes.
'I've come for a haircut, do you do men?' he asked.
'Yes but not very often,' she extended he hand towards him, 'my name is Dominique Destine and I own this shop.' He accepted it and shook her hand warmly.
'Call me Dante. I'm staying at..'
'The main hotel in high street, I know,' Dominique smiled at his startled expression, 'this is a small town, talk spreads fast when a stranger arrives.'
'Oh I see,' Zechs returned her smile with one of his own, 'I should have guessed as much. Well were do you want me Dominique?'
'Anywhere,' she motioned to the empty chairs before her, 'and call me Monique most people do.'
Sitting down in the centre chair Zechs leaned his slender frame back letting Monique wrap a protective navy apron around. As her fingers brushed his hair, she hoped he couldn't feel her tremble. When Jane who worked at the hotel had come for her haircut, she hadn't wasted time dishing all the dirt on the new arrival. She went on and on about how handsome he was or how charming he was. How he always said hello to her if he passed her by. Monique had taken all this in with a pinch of salt, knowing how notorious Jane was for exaggerating the truth. But this time for once Jane had been right. The stranger who called himself Dante was more than just good looking, he was exceptionally handsome. He had a presence that made Monique instantly run a hand through her hair and straighten her skirt.
Brushing his hair with a soft bristled brush she asked him.
'So what do you want done Dante?'
At this Zechs frowned, his first instinct was to lop it all off, knowing that his long platinum hair made him stand out. But he was still hesitant, the hair was both of what made Milliardo and Zechs and a part of him was still reluctant to let that go just yet.
'Just a trim, about an inch to neaten it up,' he finally answered. Taking a pair of stainless steel scissors, Monique measured an inch of hair with her fingers. Biting her lip in concentration she set to work. Monique was always meticulous about her work, but she even more so now. She cut his hair so carefully it was as if she wanted to make sure not one hair was unevenly cut from the rest. When it came to his fringe, she had to move closer. So close she could smell his cologne mixed in with the scent of the hotel soap. For one moment she had the most inexplicable urge to bury her nose in his hair and sample deeply his unique perfume.
Blushing furiously at the thought, she let go of his hair and said the first thing that came to mind.
'You have lovely hair,' she said stuttering slightly. He turned so his face was inches from hers.
'Thank you,' he said quietly looking straight at her.
The door then clanged open rudely breaking the spell. Monique stood up and came face to face with a tall handsome youth. Well at least he would have been not for the ugly frown that marred his features or the dark look in his cognac coloured eyes.
'Stephen, what are you doing here?' Monique asked. As if to answer he held up a bulging shopping bag. 'My shampoo! Stephen you are a darling. Put it in the back and I will pay you when I am finished with my customer.'
Not saying a word he obeyed her, but not before shooting Zechs a suspicious glance. Speeding up her motions, Monique was done with Zechs five minutes later, giving him a final brush to shake out any loose hairs.
'You are fantastic Monique, how much?' Zechs complimented her running a hand through his hair. 'I try,' she answered giving him a cheerful grin, 'about paying, don't worry about it. To tell you the truth I would feel guilty taking your money, it was barely anything. Think of it as my way of saying welcome to San Tibaldo.' Zechs looked taken aback.
'I couldn't possible do that. It wouldn't be fair and I would feel terrible, please let me pay.'
'No Dante, please accept it with my compliments,' Monique replied.
'Well at least then let me take you out to dinner, it's the least I could do.' It was then Monique's turn to be taken aback, but thankfully her brain took over.
'Sure,' she answered.
'Alright then see you in the lobby of my hotel at eight?' Zechs slung his coat over his arm. Monique nodded as he gave her one last dazzling smile and stepped out. The minute he was out of earshot, Amanda grabbed Monique's arm.
'I cant believe you just did that!' she squealed.
'I cant believe it either,' Stephen echoed Amanda's sentence, but his tone was less than welcoming.
'I was being polite Stephen,' Monique answered.
'Polite? Are you mad? What do you know about this man? He could be a serial killer for all you know?' Stephen argued.
'Are you saying I should lock myself up,' Monique felt irritation rise in her, as often it did when she and Stephen argued, 'we are not children any more Stephen, you cant control my life as much as you like to.'
Monique suddenly clutched her chest as a sharp pain pierced her sternum. The expression of anger in Stephen's eyes immediately changed to one of concern and he reached for her. But she pushed his hand away as she took deep breaths until the pain dissipated.
'I'm fine,' Monique said before either of them could say a word, 'Amanda I'm going to lie down. If anyone comes in call me. I'm going to get some rest, I have a date tonight.'
With that she strode out of the room her head held high leaving Amanda looking concerned and leaving Stephen looking black as thunder.
*
'So you are extending your stay Dante?' Monique asked sipping her wine. Zechs nodded his head.
'I like it here, I think I'll go looking for a place tomorrow,' he answered before taking a sip from his own glass.
'Well the only real estate place in town is Mr Peters. Let me warn you though, he will be anxious to unload this hideous house in the hills on you. Keep shaking your head until you find something you like, don't let him persuade you to take something you hate just because to him it's a good deal.'
'I think you'll find I'm not an easy guy to persuade Monique,' Zechs's blue eyes twinkled at her, 'but thanks for the advice.'
Not for the first time that night Monique was glad that she had chosen to wear her clingy, strapless black dress. When she had first bought it she wondered when on earth was she going to wear it in a small town like this, but from the way Dante's eyes looked her up and down, it was worth every penny.
Zechs looked gorgeous in a pair of dark blue trousers matched with a tailored white Oxford cloth shirt. The colours really set off his eyes and platinum hair that was neatly tied back at the nape of his neck. He insisted she chose the restaurant and so she had chosen Al Duca one of her favourites. It was only when they had arrived that she had remembered that it was also the most expensive restaurant in the whole town. When she had suggested they go elsewhere, Dante had simply laughed and said it was all right.
After dinner he insisted on walking her home. Although her home was actually only fifteen minutes from the restaurant, she took the long route hoping to prolong the evening just a little bit longer. Zechs found her sweet, confident with a sharp sense of humour. Monique on the other hand found that the man who called himself Dante was more charming on the inside than he was on the outside. With him she found she could truly hold a meaningful conversation. Not like with Stephen whose mood swings often brought her headaches. All to soon however they arrived at her door causing her to look up at him with regret.
'Thanks for dinner, you really didn't have to you know,' Monique rummaged around in her purse for her keys.
'I wanted to, believe that,' Zechs reached for her free hand and brought it to his lips, 'you were enchanting company and a great hairstylist,' he gave her a rakish smile that made her weak at the knees.
'Yeah,' she answered her tongue suddenly tied. In her heels she was exactly his height and in the moonlight he looked handsomer than ever. For a moment he looked like he wanted to kiss her and she wanted him to, more than anything. But a nagging voice in her head told her that that would have been pushing it. So instead she leaned over and planted a friendly kiss on her cheek.
'Goodnight,' she said softly.
'Goodnight,' he echoed before turning around to leave. Monique just stood there watching him leave. When he was finally gone, she sighed and looked upwards at the stars. Strangely enough to her they weren't twinkling white, but twinkling blue.
*
A week later Monique met Stephen coming down one of San Tibaldo's many hills as she was coming up. She looked extremely pretty in her floaty turquoise summer dress, black espadrilles and black straw hat. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by Stephen.
'Hello Stephen lovely day isn't it?' Monique smiled at him as she swung her basket back and forth.
'You are going to see him aren't you,' Stephen said accusingly causing the smile to disappear from Monique's face.
'So what if I am Stephen, it's none of your business.'
'It is my business when some mysterious stranger tries to steal my girl!' Stephen's voice just got louder and louder and Monique just got more and more irritated.
'I'm not your girl Stephen, I never was,' she hurtled the sentence at him.
'I have loved you since we were children, I have waited for you all this time and now some stranger with a flimsy background shows up and you cant wait to get into his pants fast enough.'
She didn't know she had actually slapped him until she felt her hand sting and the bright red mark on his cheek. She was so consumed with rage she was actually trembling. Stephen looked at her a mixture of anger and sadness in his cognac eyes.
'Your in love with him aren't you,' Stephen said bitterly.
'You know me Stephen, I'm not in the position to love anybody,' Monique said her voice hollow.
'I will take care of you,' his voice took on a pleading quality now.
'I don't want you to take care of me, I just want you to leave me alone,' she said harshly. Her words made something inside Stephen snap.
'Fine,' he said his eyes flashing, 'don't come running to me when pretty boy breaks your heart.' He spun on his heel and marched down the hill. The throbbing in Monique's temples grew more prominent causing her to frantically rub them in order to make it go away. When it finally stopped, Monique composed herself and made her way to Zechs's house.
After much negotiation he had managed to find a house that both pleased him and suited his needs. It was a small bungalow on top of a hill with a small garden behind it. Monique had helped him moved in and often went to visit him on her days off. They had become friends of sorts but while he knew almost everything about her, she still knew almost nothing about him. With Stephen's words still ringing in her ears, she vowed to change that today.
'Hello,' Zechs said answering the door.
'Hi,' Monique held up her basket, 'I brought you some things to plant in your garden.'
'Thanks,' he said taking the basket and letting her in. When his back was turned Monique bit her lip. He didn't sound at all like the Dante she knew, his voice was monotonous and he looked almost menacing.
'Are you eating properly,' Monique asked casually.
'I am a big boy Monique I can take care if myself,' he said sarcastically. Monique was startled; he had never spoken to her like that before. An awkwardness hung in the air, which made Monique wring her hands, frantically looking around for something to say. Her eye fell on the newspaper and she gave a sigh of relief.
'Don't you think its wonderful now, what this Relena Darlian is doing to establish peace by banning weapons.'
Zechs stiffened at the sound of his sister's name.
'Its false peace,' he spat out.
'What did you say?' Monique couldn't believe her ears, 'what do you mean false?'
'This peace wont last, as long as humanity exists, there will always exist the will to fight. Sometime I think its part of human nature,' Zechs from his desk looked over his shoulder at them, 'I sometimes think it's a part of me to. I often miss the thrill of the fight.'
'Are you saying you like war Dante? I can't believe you would say something like that?' Monique could hardly believe that man she had grown to care for was speaking like this.
'War has its place, it cleanses the earth from all its evil, it makes humanity evolve,' the look in his eyes now were pure Zechs Merquise, the soldier part of him was speaking now.
'War is nothing but a game that is played by powerful people. What about what war causes, hatred, distrust, death. Do you think that is worth the price.'
'People will always die,' Zechs said callously.
'I lost me brother in the war, he died fighting for a cause that was as empty as it was useless. His death proves nothing.'
Zechs laughed, a cruel laugh that made her shiver, 'what a naïve thought, but then you were never in front line battle then were you?'
'I had no choice, I had to protect my family. But I lived my life in fear, in helplessness and in the end I lost my parents regardless. I was left alone,' Monique's voice was salty with tears, but Zechs was unmoved.
'You are afraid of dying,' he said quietly, 'then you should never been born. Leave little girl, go be happy in your ignorance.'
Monique was at first to shocked to move. But as the shock wore off, rage rose within her like a tidal wave. Grabbing her bag she slammed the door behind her and made her way down. She made it halfway before her tears blurred her vision. She pulled aside and slumped on a stone bench, sobbing as if her heart would break.
Zechs sighed. He didn't mean to be so cruel on her. But he wasn't blind, he could see how much she had begun to care for him and he couldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow another person to get close to him; they would just end up getting hurt. It was better this way, he convinced himself, besides his words had been half-true anyway.
Then why was it there was a pain in his heart that wouldn't go away?
***
Months passed and life went on for the inhabitants in San Tibaldo. Well at least for everyone except Monique that is. Even now Zechs's cruel words rang in her ears, causing her insides to contract with pain. However on the outside she kept up façade cheerfulness convincing everybody that nothing had changed. It was so convincing that she almost ended up convincing herself.
Almost being the operative word.
However her mask always slipped a bit when she caught sight f Zechs or rather Dante wondering about town. As mad as she was at him, her heart still ached to be with him. Stephen had been right, she was in love with him. But luckily for her he didn't stay in San Tibaldo all the time. He often left for weeks, even months at a stretch, but he always returned. If they happen to pass by each other, they kept it civil to the point of being cold.
One day she was walking back having just finished serving a client that lived out of town. Monique rarely made house calls but Mrs Fields was an old friend of her parents and had helped a great deal when they had been alive. It was the least Monique could do for her, besides she liked spending time with the charming old lady. But there had been one awkward moment when Mrs Fields had asked her, jokingly of course, whether she was in love. She had asked, she said, because Monique acted like she was. It had caught Monique of guard but thankfully Mrs Fields had tactfully changed the subject.
Monique sighed; it was if she was cursed. The minute she thought she could forget about him, something brought him charging back into her mind. She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice it had started to rain.
'Shit!' she swore. As usual she had forgotten to bring her umbrella and her house was still a good ten-minute walk away. Glancing around furtively she looked for some shelter only to find none. She had been walking along a partially deserted stretch of road, flanked by flat fields on either side. She quickened her pace and resigned herself to getting soaked when a car pulled up next to her. Without thinking she yanked the door open.
'Oh thank you, you have no..' her words froze as a pair of azure eyes looked up at her. Instantly her expression changed, her mouth setting itself into a thin line.
'Never mind, I'll walk.' Zechs grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving. 'Don't be stupid, you'll catch your death of cold walking in this downpour,' he said irritatedly, 'don't cut off your nose to spite your face Monique.'
'I'd rather drown than get a lift from you,' Monique tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he had an extremely strong hold on her. Zechs gave a half smile that made her weak at the knees despite herself.
'Now you're just being foolish,' with one yank he pulled her in the car and swiftly locked the doors.
'Hey!' Monique said indignantly, 'let me out! I demand you to.. Atchoo!' she sneezed violently. When she opened her eyes, a pristine white handkerchief lay on her lap.
'We'll dry you off first and then I'll take you home, alright?' Zechs said never taking his eyes of the road.
'Fine,' Monique said sullenly.
Once they had arrived at his place, he threw her a thick white terry cloth towel from his linen cupboard. He had thrown it with such force that it almost beheaded her, but she was grateful nonetheless. She didn't show it though, striding almost haughtily into his bathroom. The towel was warm and felt great against her chilled skin. Burying her nose deep in the soft, slightly scratchy fabric she inhaled the pleasant scent of lemongrass.
After she made herself look more presentable and less like a drowned rat, she then strode into the living room while at the same time vigorously towel drying her hair. There she found Zechs calmly reading the paper while in front of him on the table sat two steaming mugs.
'Help yourself to coffee if you want,' Zechs said never raising his head from what he was reading. Monique glared at him but grabbed a cup anyway. She sipped it gingerly at first, but as soon as she realised it tasted ok she drank deeply, relishing the feeling of the warm fluid coursing through her body. The silence between them was deafening.
'You know you cant not talk to me forever,' Zechs lowered his paper to look at her.
'I have nothing to say to you,' Monique said stiffly, wishing that in her heart he wasn't so handsome.
'Is this how you treat everyone that disagrees with you?' Zechs said calmly causing Monique to look at him in disbelief.
'You did more than just disagree with me, you shot me down. You didn't even listen to what I had to say,' Monique almost slammed the coffee cup down on the table. A smile tugged at the corners of Zechs's lips.
'I had no idea my opinion mean that much to you,' he teased, but when he saw the look on her face he quickly became serious, 'I am sorry I hurt your feelings, but I've always been a person with strong if not controversial opinions. But then I have probably seen more of the world and the evils in that than you have. However I also hold a strong view on fairness. Your opinion is yours alone and you are perfectly entitled to have one.'
Zechs left the chair he had been sitting on and came right beside Monique.
'If everyone had the same opinion the world would be an extremely boring place,' without thinking he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ears.
'You didn't have to be so nasty about it,' Monique tried with all her might to keep her voice from trembling. Zechs shut his eyes briefly.
'I'm sorry, I'm not the best guy for tact,' opening his eyes he looked at her long and hard, 'but like I said before why does my opinion matter that much to you.'
Monique took a deep breath.
'Because I like you,' she said shyly.
Zechs jerked his head back.
'What did you say?' Monique turned so that her lips were just inches from his.
'I said, I like you, a lot,' she admitted almost breathlessly. She instinctively reached for him and pressed her lips to his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Zechs was, at first to stunned to do anything but as a realisation began to dawn on him, he returned her kiss with a passion he never knew he had in him.
However he soon pulled away, an action which caused Monique to blush to the roots of her hair.
'I'm sorry,' she stammered, ' I didn't know what I was thinking..'
Mercifully she was spared any more babbling by Zechs placing a finger on her lips, a serene look in his eyes.
'Never be sorry for anything that your heart tell you to do,' he gave her a rakish smile, 'actually I was suggesting we should go somewhere more comfortable and…. talk some more.'
Monique flashed him a mischievous smile in return.
'I'd like that,' she reached up and gently stroked the side of his face, 'I'd like that a great deal.'
*
'Tell me something..'
Zechs looked down at the girl lying on his chest. The heavy rain had slowed down to a drizzle now that made a soothing sound as it fell on the rooftop. Both of them were lying on his bed, comfortable in each other's presence.
'What?' he asked his voice normal, but with a thin edge of wariness that Monique didn't fail to detect.
'Dante, you don't need to answer anything I ask you. I understand that there are something's that you want to keep hidden. I know that one day, when you're ready you will tell me,' Monique traced a figure of eight on his bare chest, 'Just promise that you'll never lie to me, please..'
'Alright, I promise,' Zechs kissed her soft hair.
'When was the first time you were ever in love?' Monique asked. Zechs stayed quiet thinking, lightly running his fingertip up and down her arm.
'Her name was Desdemona or Jessica as everyone called her. But I insisted on calling her Demona, it suited her,' he lightly shrugged his shoulders, 'she was beautiful, and smart.'
'What happened to her?' Monique asked, hoping he would say she had moved to the Antarctic or something like that. Zechs smiled as if reading her mind.
'She didn't love me, when I left, she was trying to decide between a long haired preacher boy or a handsome loner with emerald green eyes.'
'I'm sorry,' Monique said.
'No you're not,' Zechs said shrewdly causing Monique to quickly change the subject.
'Alright then, tell me the first time you were loved.'
'I was sixteen, seventeen maybe. We both went to the same school. She adored me, swore she would never leave my side,' Zechs without thinking hugged Monique closer, 'I cared for her, but I could never really love her. She loved me with an intensity that awed me. However her love was so unconditional that I would have ended up hurting her once she realised I could never be the man that she had dreamed off.'
He spoke with such tenderness it made her heartache, but Monique still had one more question to ask.
'When were you both?' Instead of answering, he took her chin in his hand and tipped her face upwards.
'Right now,' he then proceeded to kiss her. A long lingering kiss that made her forget everything. Everything that is except him and her.
***
'A circus?! You must be out of your mind,' Zechs folded his arms as he looked at her.
'Oh c'mon it's going to be fun,' she tugged at the ends of his shirt and gave him an imploring smile.
'That's not going to work Monique, no matter how much you give me that look,' Zechs said determinedly.
'Please Dante, nothing exciting ever happens here and they don't come that often,' Monique twisted her pretty features into a pout, 'if you don't I'll ask Stephen to take me.'
'I hope you two have a great time then,' Zechs said flatly.
'Dante!'
'You should know by now that emotional blackmail doesn't work on me Dominique.'
His tone of voice caused Monique to stop her act and put her hands on her hips.
'Please Dante,' she asked in her normal voice, no more whining, no more cajoling. That was one of the things Zechs really loved about her, her no nonsense attitude, but at times still playful. It reminded Zechs that he should really lighten up. Besides there was something about the way she stood like that that made his breath catch his throat.
'Ok then since you asked so nicely, but,' he said admonishingly, 'there's now way I'm buying you cotton candy.'
'Ok,' Monique answered crossing her fingers behind her back, a satisfied smile on her face.
*
Later, Zechs was surprised to find himself enjoying the show. As a soldier in training, he was so hell bent on his revenge, that he had spent all his extra time sharpening his skills while others were out enjoying themselves. Sitting with Monique, Zechs felt a peace, that no amount of fighting or killing had been able to give him.
The show consisted of the usual fare presented by a circus. While waiting for the acts to change, clowns came out to amuse the audience, with their acrobatic moves and tumbling. One in particular caught Zechs's eye. Unlike the other clowns he wasn't smiling. Wearing a mask that concealed half his face, the broad smile painted on it contrasted sharply with the handsome boy's almost sullen expression.
However it soon became clear that among all of them, he was the most talented. Stretched from one end of the tent to the other was a tight rope wire that had subsequently been lowered after the trapeze artist's number. Carefully balancing himself in the middle of the wire, the clown then launched himself off with one mighty leap, which made the crowd gasp. While in mid-air he executed a perfect double corkscrew twist before landing on his feet like a cat.
Monique clapped along with the audience in appreciation of the boy's daring and agility. But suddenly she felt Zechs stiffen. Turning her attention towards him, she noticed him biting his lower lip, a tell tale sign of anxiety.
'Are you alright Dante?' she asked concerned, 'you look like you've seen a ghost.'
'You could say that,' he grimaced; however he was quick to reassure her.
'Its all right, don't worry about it. Just enjoy the rest of the show,' he said with some relief as the clowns exited the ring.
'Ok then,' Monique dropped the subject and returned her attention to the performers as Zechs draped an arm around her waist.
*
At first he wondered if he was mistaken. But then the boy who called himself Trowa Barton rarely ever made mistakes. Calm, cool and collected, Trowa wasn't in the habit of making rash decisions. This was partly why he had been such a good Gundam pilot. His level head and the sense when to mind his own business kept him alive and out of trouble.
Like the other pilots, everything Trowa did was close perfect. Perfection came to him as easily as breathing. That was why he knew he couldn't be wrong. The long platinum hair, although tied back and under a cap, was instantly recognisable. Even if he had been incorrect, there was no mistaking the features, blue eyes and a face that was almost too handsome, too perfect. Those would be the two words that would always spring to mind every time Trowa came face to face with him. Too perfect. Too perfect a soldier, a leader, a pilot.
'Zechs Merquise, well well well,' Trowa took of his mask and brushed back his long fringe of brown hair, 'talk about dead man walking.'
*
'Shall I get the car Dante?' Monique asked. Zechs nodded his head, and gave himself a small smile as he looked with obvious pleasure at his girlfriend. It was this same sense of pleasure that had made them late in the first place. As a consequence all the parking spaces close to the tent had been taken, and so they were forced to leave their car a good trek away. However as distracted as he was, the sound of a familiar voice coming from behind him didn't startle him. Zechs would never be a man who startled easily.
' I must say this is an unexpected surprise,' Trowa, who had by now changed out of his circus clothes and into jeans and a jumper emerged like a phantom from the shadow of the tent, 'in all the circus's in all the towns, in all the world, I'd never thought you'd walk into mine.'
At the sound of this familiar quote, Zechs turned to face Trowa with an amused expression on his face.
'I can see you've been watching TV since the war ended.' Trowa shrugged non- comittantly.
'Catherine, my adopted sister has a penchant for old movies,' Trowa's face suddenly hardened, 'the whole world thinks your dead.'
'I prefer it that way,' Zechs said quietly.
'I can see that,' Trowa said in a tone of voice that was at the same time knowing yet unemotional, 'she is beautiful.'
'She is more than that Trowa,' Zechs took his cap off and turned it over and over in his hands, 'it is Trowa isn't it? Trowa Barton.'
Trowa nodded his head.
'I assume then that Demona is with Duo now,' Zechs said trying to keep his voice flat.
'They are happy together. She never loved me, you know. Its always been Duo, she just couldn't see it,' Trowa said.
'We could never make her laugh, could we?' Zechs said ruefully.
Again Trowa nodded, an action which caused Zechs to look at him quizzically.
'You don't say much, do you?'
'People who know me know that I am never the talkative type. Sometimes life gets so cluttered with meaningless chatter that people forget that how beautiful silence sounds. However don't try to change the subject,' Trowa walked slowly towards him, 'I must admit I am surprised that you haven't revealed yourself. I am sure Miss Relena and Miss Noin would love to know what happened to you.'
'Sometimes Trowa, you just want to forget what you've been, who you used to be,' Zechs said.
'I understand what you say, but that raises yet another question,' Trowa looked at Zechs through his thick fringe, 'if not yourself, who would you be?'
'I am still trying to figure that out,' Zechs admitted, 'so are you going to turn me in?'
'Why should I? You would have done it yourself by now if you had wanted to. Its not my place to preach,' said Trowa.
'Thank you,' Zechs said gratefully, 'tell me, I know how Relena's been doing. She's in the public eye so much that it has been relatively easy to keep tabs on her. Also I take comfort in knowing that Heero is always there keeping a watchful eye on her. But I haven't been able to see how Noin's been doing. Do you know of anything?'
'As far as I know, she is fine. She was pretty cut up after what happened with you and Epyon but she is coping,' Trowa observed Zechs's reaction to his next words, 'she and Wu Fei are dating now.'
'Pilot 05,' Zechs said in disbelief, 'I would have never…'
'Believe me when I say, all of us would have never guessed it would happen,' Trowa shrugged, 'however, Wu Fei does have this uncanny knack of being extremely endearing at times. She is happy, and I am sure you'll agree with me when I say that is all that matters,' Trowa raised an eyebrow at him quizzically, 'am I right?'
Zechs hesitated a spilt second before answering.
'Yes.'
Whether or not Trowa noticed it would never be known as it was at that moment, Monique pulled up in Zechs's rented car.
'Sorry I was so long,' she said breathlessly, 'I got a little lost.'
'That's alright,' Zechs replied getting in on the passenger side, 'take care Trowa.'
'Same to you,' Trowa replied.
As they pulled away, Zechs shot Trowa one last parting glance in the rear- view mirror. Trowa didn't move a muscle, standing still as a statue watching them leave. In the silvery moonlight, he looked almost ghostlike. Zechs sighed.
'A ghost from my past all right,' Zechs thought.
'Who was that Dante?' Monique asked with a hint of curiosity.
'An old acquaintance,' Zechs hesitated for a split second before taking the plunge, 'I was a soldier in the war Monique and he was a comrade.'
Monique nodded her head, she had guessed as much. 'Did he bring back bad memories?' she asked. Zechs just smiled sadly.
'No…. just, memories,' he said. The look in his eyes was so sad that Monique just wanted to stop the car and pull him close to her. Instead she planted a kiss on his cheek and tucked a silvery strand of hair behind his ear.
'I'll always be here for you,' she said softly.
'Thank you,' Zechs answered touched, before returning her kiss.
He couldn't have known how those words would come back one day to haunt him.
Disclaimers: GW doesn't belong to me etc, etc… All lyrics used are also copyrighted to their respective owners. Only the storyline and the original character belongs to me.
Author's note: I wrote this quite some time ago and it is one of my very first fan fictions, so I apologize if it is a little rough and not that very good *scuffs feet shyly*. I am putting it up at the request of some of my friends who wanted to read some of my earlier work.
I hope you enjoy it and please leave a review if you feel like it ^_~
***
It was strange. He could hardly recognise the blue eyes that were staring back at him from the mirror. What was strange was that he had been staring into the same perfectly clear blue eyes for the past twenty years. After a few moments of gazing at his reflection, it struck him. They had lost the haunted look he had acquired over the past few years. He wondered how had he had become to be like this, so heartless, so jaded. But there were no easy answers, there never were for him. He had chosen his path in life and lived with it. He couldn't allow himself to feel regret, it would have driven him mad long ago to do so. But now however his eyes were clear, as was his conscience.
Putting one hand up to stroke his cheek, he marvelled at how thin he had become. But it hadn't diminished his startling good looks one bit. If anything, it made the cheekbones on his finely featured face stand out more, framing his clear blue eyes and setting off his long white blond hair. A sapphire set in platinum. But the man once known as the Lightning Count was never vain. All he saw were dark shadows under his eyes and a haggard look to his face. But then again, he looked good for a man who had been left floating in space. He surely would have died if it hadn't been picked up by a passing space junk cruiser. Even then he had hovered between life and death for another week before finally emerging from his coma. After nursing him back to health, the people on the ship left him relatively alone, something for which he was extremely grateful. It was as if they sensed that he wanted to be alone, that he didn't want to talk.
Or perhaps they realised that they had just saved Milliardo Peacecraft, leader of the rebel group White Fang, the man who had masterminded the destruction of earth. Perhaps in their hearts they just wanted to let him die, to pay for the lives that had been lost because he insisted on a war. But in the end they just let him live, maybe because they sensed that there was some good in him that he would be of more use alive. They had then taken him back to earth, smuggling him past immigration. The leaders of the ship were a married couple who had accompanied him to the train station. When he opened his mouth to thank them, the lady whose wide grey eyes were sad with all the death she had seen in her life shook her head, stopping the words at his lips. She kissed him on the cheek while at the same time pressed some money into his hand. She then grabbed her husband's hand and they both disappeared into the crowd.
Shaking his head as if to clear the memories Zechs grabbed his light fawn coat and made his way outside. It was spring and the trees were just beginning to burst into leaf. Their smattering of light green contrasted sharply with the clear blue sky. Taking a deep breath inhaling the sweet perfume of grass and flowers that tainted the wind, for the first time in a long while Zechs felt lucky to be alive. He felt free, that he was no longer carrying the baggage of either Milliardo Peacecraft or Zechs Merquise. To the world they were both dead, and with that he could live again. When he first came back to earth, his first thought was to get back into space as soon as possible. Money wasn't an issue. Before he had joined up with White Fang, he had set up an untraceable bank account in the name of Meriz Quechse, an anagram of Zechs Merquise. In it he had accumulated a small fortune, some left over from Sanc Kingdom as well as what White Fang had paid him.
No it wasn't money. It was just the longer he spent on earth, the more reluctant he felt to leave. Perhaps he was a son of the earth after all, born and bred. It was as if the earth had forgotten what he had tried to do to it, like a mother would forgive a child that threw a violent tantrum at her. They had reconciled and the earth bore him no malice. So armed with his fortune he decided to travel the world. He was still only twenty yet what he had gone through made him feel much older and it showed. It showed in the way that he carried himself, with a natural confidence that had made him a prime soldier and a great leader.
But today he was neither. Today he was going to do something extremely mundane. He was going to have a hair cut. One of the most basic things in the world, but to him it felt alien. But it made him feel normal, something he now realised he wanted extremely badly. He was in Spain, welcoming the warm sunshine on his shoulders after experiencing the chilliness of both Germany and Russia. He had been to Barcelona until on a whim he decided to rent a car and drive through the countryside. That was how he came to be here. In the small town of San Tibaldo searching for a barber.
He had contemplated doing it himself, but he knew he would just look like a lawnmower driven by a blind man had attacked him. In a town so small he had no trouble finding a barber. Actually it was more like a hairdressers. Perhaps the men in town thought it was extravagant to let someone else cut their hair he thought. Pushing open the door, the light tinkling of a bell heralded his arrival and a silvery laugh greeted him.
'Amanda you should really not let him do that to you,' the girl who had laughed admonished her friend sitting in one of the battered chairs. The other girl looked ruefully up at her.
'I know but..' the one called Amanda stopped mid-sentence noticing Zechs's presence, 'you have a customer dear.'
'Sorry, have you been waiting long?' the other girl asked in perfect accentless English.
'No I'm sorry for having interrupted your conversation,' Zechs the ever- perfect gentlemen answered. Actually it had given him time to observe the both of them. Amanda was pretty with sandy blond hair and deep brown eyes but the other girl was extremely beautiful. Tall and slender with black hair that fell down her back like a waterfall and deep, gold flecked emerald green eyes.
'I've come for a haircut, do you do men?' he asked.
'Yes but not very often,' she extended he hand towards him, 'my name is Dominique Destine and I own this shop.' He accepted it and shook her hand warmly.
'Call me Dante. I'm staying at..'
'The main hotel in high street, I know,' Dominique smiled at his startled expression, 'this is a small town, talk spreads fast when a stranger arrives.'
'Oh I see,' Zechs returned her smile with one of his own, 'I should have guessed as much. Well were do you want me Dominique?'
'Anywhere,' she motioned to the empty chairs before her, 'and call me Monique most people do.'
Sitting down in the centre chair Zechs leaned his slender frame back letting Monique wrap a protective navy apron around. As her fingers brushed his hair, she hoped he couldn't feel her tremble. When Jane who worked at the hotel had come for her haircut, she hadn't wasted time dishing all the dirt on the new arrival. She went on and on about how handsome he was or how charming he was. How he always said hello to her if he passed her by. Monique had taken all this in with a pinch of salt, knowing how notorious Jane was for exaggerating the truth. But this time for once Jane had been right. The stranger who called himself Dante was more than just good looking, he was exceptionally handsome. He had a presence that made Monique instantly run a hand through her hair and straighten her skirt.
Brushing his hair with a soft bristled brush she asked him.
'So what do you want done Dante?'
At this Zechs frowned, his first instinct was to lop it all off, knowing that his long platinum hair made him stand out. But he was still hesitant, the hair was both of what made Milliardo and Zechs and a part of him was still reluctant to let that go just yet.
'Just a trim, about an inch to neaten it up,' he finally answered. Taking a pair of stainless steel scissors, Monique measured an inch of hair with her fingers. Biting her lip in concentration she set to work. Monique was always meticulous about her work, but she even more so now. She cut his hair so carefully it was as if she wanted to make sure not one hair was unevenly cut from the rest. When it came to his fringe, she had to move closer. So close she could smell his cologne mixed in with the scent of the hotel soap. For one moment she had the most inexplicable urge to bury her nose in his hair and sample deeply his unique perfume.
Blushing furiously at the thought, she let go of his hair and said the first thing that came to mind.
'You have lovely hair,' she said stuttering slightly. He turned so his face was inches from hers.
'Thank you,' he said quietly looking straight at her.
The door then clanged open rudely breaking the spell. Monique stood up and came face to face with a tall handsome youth. Well at least he would have been not for the ugly frown that marred his features or the dark look in his cognac coloured eyes.
'Stephen, what are you doing here?' Monique asked. As if to answer he held up a bulging shopping bag. 'My shampoo! Stephen you are a darling. Put it in the back and I will pay you when I am finished with my customer.'
Not saying a word he obeyed her, but not before shooting Zechs a suspicious glance. Speeding up her motions, Monique was done with Zechs five minutes later, giving him a final brush to shake out any loose hairs.
'You are fantastic Monique, how much?' Zechs complimented her running a hand through his hair. 'I try,' she answered giving him a cheerful grin, 'about paying, don't worry about it. To tell you the truth I would feel guilty taking your money, it was barely anything. Think of it as my way of saying welcome to San Tibaldo.' Zechs looked taken aback.
'I couldn't possible do that. It wouldn't be fair and I would feel terrible, please let me pay.'
'No Dante, please accept it with my compliments,' Monique replied.
'Well at least then let me take you out to dinner, it's the least I could do.' It was then Monique's turn to be taken aback, but thankfully her brain took over.
'Sure,' she answered.
'Alright then see you in the lobby of my hotel at eight?' Zechs slung his coat over his arm. Monique nodded as he gave her one last dazzling smile and stepped out. The minute he was out of earshot, Amanda grabbed Monique's arm.
'I cant believe you just did that!' she squealed.
'I cant believe it either,' Stephen echoed Amanda's sentence, but his tone was less than welcoming.
'I was being polite Stephen,' Monique answered.
'Polite? Are you mad? What do you know about this man? He could be a serial killer for all you know?' Stephen argued.
'Are you saying I should lock myself up,' Monique felt irritation rise in her, as often it did when she and Stephen argued, 'we are not children any more Stephen, you cant control my life as much as you like to.'
Monique suddenly clutched her chest as a sharp pain pierced her sternum. The expression of anger in Stephen's eyes immediately changed to one of concern and he reached for her. But she pushed his hand away as she took deep breaths until the pain dissipated.
'I'm fine,' Monique said before either of them could say a word, 'Amanda I'm going to lie down. If anyone comes in call me. I'm going to get some rest, I have a date tonight.'
With that she strode out of the room her head held high leaving Amanda looking concerned and leaving Stephen looking black as thunder.
*
'So you are extending your stay Dante?' Monique asked sipping her wine. Zechs nodded his head.
'I like it here, I think I'll go looking for a place tomorrow,' he answered before taking a sip from his own glass.
'Well the only real estate place in town is Mr Peters. Let me warn you though, he will be anxious to unload this hideous house in the hills on you. Keep shaking your head until you find something you like, don't let him persuade you to take something you hate just because to him it's a good deal.'
'I think you'll find I'm not an easy guy to persuade Monique,' Zechs's blue eyes twinkled at her, 'but thanks for the advice.'
Not for the first time that night Monique was glad that she had chosen to wear her clingy, strapless black dress. When she had first bought it she wondered when on earth was she going to wear it in a small town like this, but from the way Dante's eyes looked her up and down, it was worth every penny.
Zechs looked gorgeous in a pair of dark blue trousers matched with a tailored white Oxford cloth shirt. The colours really set off his eyes and platinum hair that was neatly tied back at the nape of his neck. He insisted she chose the restaurant and so she had chosen Al Duca one of her favourites. It was only when they had arrived that she had remembered that it was also the most expensive restaurant in the whole town. When she had suggested they go elsewhere, Dante had simply laughed and said it was all right.
After dinner he insisted on walking her home. Although her home was actually only fifteen minutes from the restaurant, she took the long route hoping to prolong the evening just a little bit longer. Zechs found her sweet, confident with a sharp sense of humour. Monique on the other hand found that the man who called himself Dante was more charming on the inside than he was on the outside. With him she found she could truly hold a meaningful conversation. Not like with Stephen whose mood swings often brought her headaches. All to soon however they arrived at her door causing her to look up at him with regret.
'Thanks for dinner, you really didn't have to you know,' Monique rummaged around in her purse for her keys.
'I wanted to, believe that,' Zechs reached for her free hand and brought it to his lips, 'you were enchanting company and a great hairstylist,' he gave her a rakish smile that made her weak at the knees.
'Yeah,' she answered her tongue suddenly tied. In her heels she was exactly his height and in the moonlight he looked handsomer than ever. For a moment he looked like he wanted to kiss her and she wanted him to, more than anything. But a nagging voice in her head told her that that would have been pushing it. So instead she leaned over and planted a friendly kiss on her cheek.
'Goodnight,' she said softly.
'Goodnight,' he echoed before turning around to leave. Monique just stood there watching him leave. When he was finally gone, she sighed and looked upwards at the stars. Strangely enough to her they weren't twinkling white, but twinkling blue.
*
A week later Monique met Stephen coming down one of San Tibaldo's many hills as she was coming up. She looked extremely pretty in her floaty turquoise summer dress, black espadrilles and black straw hat. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by Stephen.
'Hello Stephen lovely day isn't it?' Monique smiled at him as she swung her basket back and forth.
'You are going to see him aren't you,' Stephen said accusingly causing the smile to disappear from Monique's face.
'So what if I am Stephen, it's none of your business.'
'It is my business when some mysterious stranger tries to steal my girl!' Stephen's voice just got louder and louder and Monique just got more and more irritated.
'I'm not your girl Stephen, I never was,' she hurtled the sentence at him.
'I have loved you since we were children, I have waited for you all this time and now some stranger with a flimsy background shows up and you cant wait to get into his pants fast enough.'
She didn't know she had actually slapped him until she felt her hand sting and the bright red mark on his cheek. She was so consumed with rage she was actually trembling. Stephen looked at her a mixture of anger and sadness in his cognac eyes.
'Your in love with him aren't you,' Stephen said bitterly.
'You know me Stephen, I'm not in the position to love anybody,' Monique said her voice hollow.
'I will take care of you,' his voice took on a pleading quality now.
'I don't want you to take care of me, I just want you to leave me alone,' she said harshly. Her words made something inside Stephen snap.
'Fine,' he said his eyes flashing, 'don't come running to me when pretty boy breaks your heart.' He spun on his heel and marched down the hill. The throbbing in Monique's temples grew more prominent causing her to frantically rub them in order to make it go away. When it finally stopped, Monique composed herself and made her way to Zechs's house.
After much negotiation he had managed to find a house that both pleased him and suited his needs. It was a small bungalow on top of a hill with a small garden behind it. Monique had helped him moved in and often went to visit him on her days off. They had become friends of sorts but while he knew almost everything about her, she still knew almost nothing about him. With Stephen's words still ringing in her ears, she vowed to change that today.
'Hello,' Zechs said answering the door.
'Hi,' Monique held up her basket, 'I brought you some things to plant in your garden.'
'Thanks,' he said taking the basket and letting her in. When his back was turned Monique bit her lip. He didn't sound at all like the Dante she knew, his voice was monotonous and he looked almost menacing.
'Are you eating properly,' Monique asked casually.
'I am a big boy Monique I can take care if myself,' he said sarcastically. Monique was startled; he had never spoken to her like that before. An awkwardness hung in the air, which made Monique wring her hands, frantically looking around for something to say. Her eye fell on the newspaper and she gave a sigh of relief.
'Don't you think its wonderful now, what this Relena Darlian is doing to establish peace by banning weapons.'
Zechs stiffened at the sound of his sister's name.
'Its false peace,' he spat out.
'What did you say?' Monique couldn't believe her ears, 'what do you mean false?'
'This peace wont last, as long as humanity exists, there will always exist the will to fight. Sometime I think its part of human nature,' Zechs from his desk looked over his shoulder at them, 'I sometimes think it's a part of me to. I often miss the thrill of the fight.'
'Are you saying you like war Dante? I can't believe you would say something like that?' Monique could hardly believe that man she had grown to care for was speaking like this.
'War has its place, it cleanses the earth from all its evil, it makes humanity evolve,' the look in his eyes now were pure Zechs Merquise, the soldier part of him was speaking now.
'War is nothing but a game that is played by powerful people. What about what war causes, hatred, distrust, death. Do you think that is worth the price.'
'People will always die,' Zechs said callously.
'I lost me brother in the war, he died fighting for a cause that was as empty as it was useless. His death proves nothing.'
Zechs laughed, a cruel laugh that made her shiver, 'what a naïve thought, but then you were never in front line battle then were you?'
'I had no choice, I had to protect my family. But I lived my life in fear, in helplessness and in the end I lost my parents regardless. I was left alone,' Monique's voice was salty with tears, but Zechs was unmoved.
'You are afraid of dying,' he said quietly, 'then you should never been born. Leave little girl, go be happy in your ignorance.'
Monique was at first to shocked to move. But as the shock wore off, rage rose within her like a tidal wave. Grabbing her bag she slammed the door behind her and made her way down. She made it halfway before her tears blurred her vision. She pulled aside and slumped on a stone bench, sobbing as if her heart would break.
Zechs sighed. He didn't mean to be so cruel on her. But he wasn't blind, he could see how much she had begun to care for him and he couldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow another person to get close to him; they would just end up getting hurt. It was better this way, he convinced himself, besides his words had been half-true anyway.
Then why was it there was a pain in his heart that wouldn't go away?
***
Months passed and life went on for the inhabitants in San Tibaldo. Well at least for everyone except Monique that is. Even now Zechs's cruel words rang in her ears, causing her insides to contract with pain. However on the outside she kept up façade cheerfulness convincing everybody that nothing had changed. It was so convincing that she almost ended up convincing herself.
Almost being the operative word.
However her mask always slipped a bit when she caught sight f Zechs or rather Dante wondering about town. As mad as she was at him, her heart still ached to be with him. Stephen had been right, she was in love with him. But luckily for her he didn't stay in San Tibaldo all the time. He often left for weeks, even months at a stretch, but he always returned. If they happen to pass by each other, they kept it civil to the point of being cold.
One day she was walking back having just finished serving a client that lived out of town. Monique rarely made house calls but Mrs Fields was an old friend of her parents and had helped a great deal when they had been alive. It was the least Monique could do for her, besides she liked spending time with the charming old lady. But there had been one awkward moment when Mrs Fields had asked her, jokingly of course, whether she was in love. She had asked, she said, because Monique acted like she was. It had caught Monique of guard but thankfully Mrs Fields had tactfully changed the subject.
Monique sighed; it was if she was cursed. The minute she thought she could forget about him, something brought him charging back into her mind. She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice it had started to rain.
'Shit!' she swore. As usual she had forgotten to bring her umbrella and her house was still a good ten-minute walk away. Glancing around furtively she looked for some shelter only to find none. She had been walking along a partially deserted stretch of road, flanked by flat fields on either side. She quickened her pace and resigned herself to getting soaked when a car pulled up next to her. Without thinking she yanked the door open.
'Oh thank you, you have no..' her words froze as a pair of azure eyes looked up at her. Instantly her expression changed, her mouth setting itself into a thin line.
'Never mind, I'll walk.' Zechs grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving. 'Don't be stupid, you'll catch your death of cold walking in this downpour,' he said irritatedly, 'don't cut off your nose to spite your face Monique.'
'I'd rather drown than get a lift from you,' Monique tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he had an extremely strong hold on her. Zechs gave a half smile that made her weak at the knees despite herself.
'Now you're just being foolish,' with one yank he pulled her in the car and swiftly locked the doors.
'Hey!' Monique said indignantly, 'let me out! I demand you to.. Atchoo!' she sneezed violently. When she opened her eyes, a pristine white handkerchief lay on her lap.
'We'll dry you off first and then I'll take you home, alright?' Zechs said never taking his eyes of the road.
'Fine,' Monique said sullenly.
Once they had arrived at his place, he threw her a thick white terry cloth towel from his linen cupboard. He had thrown it with such force that it almost beheaded her, but she was grateful nonetheless. She didn't show it though, striding almost haughtily into his bathroom. The towel was warm and felt great against her chilled skin. Burying her nose deep in the soft, slightly scratchy fabric she inhaled the pleasant scent of lemongrass.
After she made herself look more presentable and less like a drowned rat, she then strode into the living room while at the same time vigorously towel drying her hair. There she found Zechs calmly reading the paper while in front of him on the table sat two steaming mugs.
'Help yourself to coffee if you want,' Zechs said never raising his head from what he was reading. Monique glared at him but grabbed a cup anyway. She sipped it gingerly at first, but as soon as she realised it tasted ok she drank deeply, relishing the feeling of the warm fluid coursing through her body. The silence between them was deafening.
'You know you cant not talk to me forever,' Zechs lowered his paper to look at her.
'I have nothing to say to you,' Monique said stiffly, wishing that in her heart he wasn't so handsome.
'Is this how you treat everyone that disagrees with you?' Zechs said calmly causing Monique to look at him in disbelief.
'You did more than just disagree with me, you shot me down. You didn't even listen to what I had to say,' Monique almost slammed the coffee cup down on the table. A smile tugged at the corners of Zechs's lips.
'I had no idea my opinion mean that much to you,' he teased, but when he saw the look on her face he quickly became serious, 'I am sorry I hurt your feelings, but I've always been a person with strong if not controversial opinions. But then I have probably seen more of the world and the evils in that than you have. However I also hold a strong view on fairness. Your opinion is yours alone and you are perfectly entitled to have one.'
Zechs left the chair he had been sitting on and came right beside Monique.
'If everyone had the same opinion the world would be an extremely boring place,' without thinking he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ears.
'You didn't have to be so nasty about it,' Monique tried with all her might to keep her voice from trembling. Zechs shut his eyes briefly.
'I'm sorry, I'm not the best guy for tact,' opening his eyes he looked at her long and hard, 'but like I said before why does my opinion matter that much to you.'
Monique took a deep breath.
'Because I like you,' she said shyly.
Zechs jerked his head back.
'What did you say?' Monique turned so that her lips were just inches from his.
'I said, I like you, a lot,' she admitted almost breathlessly. She instinctively reached for him and pressed her lips to his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Zechs was, at first to stunned to do anything but as a realisation began to dawn on him, he returned her kiss with a passion he never knew he had in him.
However he soon pulled away, an action which caused Monique to blush to the roots of her hair.
'I'm sorry,' she stammered, ' I didn't know what I was thinking..'
Mercifully she was spared any more babbling by Zechs placing a finger on her lips, a serene look in his eyes.
'Never be sorry for anything that your heart tell you to do,' he gave her a rakish smile, 'actually I was suggesting we should go somewhere more comfortable and…. talk some more.'
Monique flashed him a mischievous smile in return.
'I'd like that,' she reached up and gently stroked the side of his face, 'I'd like that a great deal.'
*
'Tell me something..'
Zechs looked down at the girl lying on his chest. The heavy rain had slowed down to a drizzle now that made a soothing sound as it fell on the rooftop. Both of them were lying on his bed, comfortable in each other's presence.
'What?' he asked his voice normal, but with a thin edge of wariness that Monique didn't fail to detect.
'Dante, you don't need to answer anything I ask you. I understand that there are something's that you want to keep hidden. I know that one day, when you're ready you will tell me,' Monique traced a figure of eight on his bare chest, 'Just promise that you'll never lie to me, please..'
'Alright, I promise,' Zechs kissed her soft hair.
'When was the first time you were ever in love?' Monique asked. Zechs stayed quiet thinking, lightly running his fingertip up and down her arm.
'Her name was Desdemona or Jessica as everyone called her. But I insisted on calling her Demona, it suited her,' he lightly shrugged his shoulders, 'she was beautiful, and smart.'
'What happened to her?' Monique asked, hoping he would say she had moved to the Antarctic or something like that. Zechs smiled as if reading her mind.
'She didn't love me, when I left, she was trying to decide between a long haired preacher boy or a handsome loner with emerald green eyes.'
'I'm sorry,' Monique said.
'No you're not,' Zechs said shrewdly causing Monique to quickly change the subject.
'Alright then, tell me the first time you were loved.'
'I was sixteen, seventeen maybe. We both went to the same school. She adored me, swore she would never leave my side,' Zechs without thinking hugged Monique closer, 'I cared for her, but I could never really love her. She loved me with an intensity that awed me. However her love was so unconditional that I would have ended up hurting her once she realised I could never be the man that she had dreamed off.'
He spoke with such tenderness it made her heartache, but Monique still had one more question to ask.
'When were you both?' Instead of answering, he took her chin in his hand and tipped her face upwards.
'Right now,' he then proceeded to kiss her. A long lingering kiss that made her forget everything. Everything that is except him and her.
***
'A circus?! You must be out of your mind,' Zechs folded his arms as he looked at her.
'Oh c'mon it's going to be fun,' she tugged at the ends of his shirt and gave him an imploring smile.
'That's not going to work Monique, no matter how much you give me that look,' Zechs said determinedly.
'Please Dante, nothing exciting ever happens here and they don't come that often,' Monique twisted her pretty features into a pout, 'if you don't I'll ask Stephen to take me.'
'I hope you two have a great time then,' Zechs said flatly.
'Dante!'
'You should know by now that emotional blackmail doesn't work on me Dominique.'
His tone of voice caused Monique to stop her act and put her hands on her hips.
'Please Dante,' she asked in her normal voice, no more whining, no more cajoling. That was one of the things Zechs really loved about her, her no nonsense attitude, but at times still playful. It reminded Zechs that he should really lighten up. Besides there was something about the way she stood like that that made his breath catch his throat.
'Ok then since you asked so nicely, but,' he said admonishingly, 'there's now way I'm buying you cotton candy.'
'Ok,' Monique answered crossing her fingers behind her back, a satisfied smile on her face.
*
Later, Zechs was surprised to find himself enjoying the show. As a soldier in training, he was so hell bent on his revenge, that he had spent all his extra time sharpening his skills while others were out enjoying themselves. Sitting with Monique, Zechs felt a peace, that no amount of fighting or killing had been able to give him.
The show consisted of the usual fare presented by a circus. While waiting for the acts to change, clowns came out to amuse the audience, with their acrobatic moves and tumbling. One in particular caught Zechs's eye. Unlike the other clowns he wasn't smiling. Wearing a mask that concealed half his face, the broad smile painted on it contrasted sharply with the handsome boy's almost sullen expression.
However it soon became clear that among all of them, he was the most talented. Stretched from one end of the tent to the other was a tight rope wire that had subsequently been lowered after the trapeze artist's number. Carefully balancing himself in the middle of the wire, the clown then launched himself off with one mighty leap, which made the crowd gasp. While in mid-air he executed a perfect double corkscrew twist before landing on his feet like a cat.
Monique clapped along with the audience in appreciation of the boy's daring and agility. But suddenly she felt Zechs stiffen. Turning her attention towards him, she noticed him biting his lower lip, a tell tale sign of anxiety.
'Are you alright Dante?' she asked concerned, 'you look like you've seen a ghost.'
'You could say that,' he grimaced; however he was quick to reassure her.
'Its all right, don't worry about it. Just enjoy the rest of the show,' he said with some relief as the clowns exited the ring.
'Ok then,' Monique dropped the subject and returned her attention to the performers as Zechs draped an arm around her waist.
*
At first he wondered if he was mistaken. But then the boy who called himself Trowa Barton rarely ever made mistakes. Calm, cool and collected, Trowa wasn't in the habit of making rash decisions. This was partly why he had been such a good Gundam pilot. His level head and the sense when to mind his own business kept him alive and out of trouble.
Like the other pilots, everything Trowa did was close perfect. Perfection came to him as easily as breathing. That was why he knew he couldn't be wrong. The long platinum hair, although tied back and under a cap, was instantly recognisable. Even if he had been incorrect, there was no mistaking the features, blue eyes and a face that was almost too handsome, too perfect. Those would be the two words that would always spring to mind every time Trowa came face to face with him. Too perfect. Too perfect a soldier, a leader, a pilot.
'Zechs Merquise, well well well,' Trowa took of his mask and brushed back his long fringe of brown hair, 'talk about dead man walking.'
*
'Shall I get the car Dante?' Monique asked. Zechs nodded his head, and gave himself a small smile as he looked with obvious pleasure at his girlfriend. It was this same sense of pleasure that had made them late in the first place. As a consequence all the parking spaces close to the tent had been taken, and so they were forced to leave their car a good trek away. However as distracted as he was, the sound of a familiar voice coming from behind him didn't startle him. Zechs would never be a man who startled easily.
' I must say this is an unexpected surprise,' Trowa, who had by now changed out of his circus clothes and into jeans and a jumper emerged like a phantom from the shadow of the tent, 'in all the circus's in all the towns, in all the world, I'd never thought you'd walk into mine.'
At the sound of this familiar quote, Zechs turned to face Trowa with an amused expression on his face.
'I can see you've been watching TV since the war ended.' Trowa shrugged non- comittantly.
'Catherine, my adopted sister has a penchant for old movies,' Trowa's face suddenly hardened, 'the whole world thinks your dead.'
'I prefer it that way,' Zechs said quietly.
'I can see that,' Trowa said in a tone of voice that was at the same time knowing yet unemotional, 'she is beautiful.'
'She is more than that Trowa,' Zechs took his cap off and turned it over and over in his hands, 'it is Trowa isn't it? Trowa Barton.'
Trowa nodded his head.
'I assume then that Demona is with Duo now,' Zechs said trying to keep his voice flat.
'They are happy together. She never loved me, you know. Its always been Duo, she just couldn't see it,' Trowa said.
'We could never make her laugh, could we?' Zechs said ruefully.
Again Trowa nodded, an action which caused Zechs to look at him quizzically.
'You don't say much, do you?'
'People who know me know that I am never the talkative type. Sometimes life gets so cluttered with meaningless chatter that people forget that how beautiful silence sounds. However don't try to change the subject,' Trowa walked slowly towards him, 'I must admit I am surprised that you haven't revealed yourself. I am sure Miss Relena and Miss Noin would love to know what happened to you.'
'Sometimes Trowa, you just want to forget what you've been, who you used to be,' Zechs said.
'I understand what you say, but that raises yet another question,' Trowa looked at Zechs through his thick fringe, 'if not yourself, who would you be?'
'I am still trying to figure that out,' Zechs admitted, 'so are you going to turn me in?'
'Why should I? You would have done it yourself by now if you had wanted to. Its not my place to preach,' said Trowa.
'Thank you,' Zechs said gratefully, 'tell me, I know how Relena's been doing. She's in the public eye so much that it has been relatively easy to keep tabs on her. Also I take comfort in knowing that Heero is always there keeping a watchful eye on her. But I haven't been able to see how Noin's been doing. Do you know of anything?'
'As far as I know, she is fine. She was pretty cut up after what happened with you and Epyon but she is coping,' Trowa observed Zechs's reaction to his next words, 'she and Wu Fei are dating now.'
'Pilot 05,' Zechs said in disbelief, 'I would have never…'
'Believe me when I say, all of us would have never guessed it would happen,' Trowa shrugged, 'however, Wu Fei does have this uncanny knack of being extremely endearing at times. She is happy, and I am sure you'll agree with me when I say that is all that matters,' Trowa raised an eyebrow at him quizzically, 'am I right?'
Zechs hesitated a spilt second before answering.
'Yes.'
Whether or not Trowa noticed it would never be known as it was at that moment, Monique pulled up in Zechs's rented car.
'Sorry I was so long,' she said breathlessly, 'I got a little lost.'
'That's alright,' Zechs replied getting in on the passenger side, 'take care Trowa.'
'Same to you,' Trowa replied.
As they pulled away, Zechs shot Trowa one last parting glance in the rear- view mirror. Trowa didn't move a muscle, standing still as a statue watching them leave. In the silvery moonlight, he looked almost ghostlike. Zechs sighed.
'A ghost from my past all right,' Zechs thought.
'Who was that Dante?' Monique asked with a hint of curiosity.
'An old acquaintance,' Zechs hesitated for a split second before taking the plunge, 'I was a soldier in the war Monique and he was a comrade.'
Monique nodded her head, she had guessed as much. 'Did he bring back bad memories?' she asked. Zechs just smiled sadly.
'No…. just, memories,' he said. The look in his eyes was so sad that Monique just wanted to stop the car and pull him close to her. Instead she planted a kiss on his cheek and tucked a silvery strand of hair behind his ear.
'I'll always be here for you,' she said softly.
'Thank you,' Zechs answered touched, before returning her kiss.
He couldn't have known how those words would come back one day to haunt him.