Alone
Chapter 1 "The Decision"

(Notes and Disclaimer to follow)

The beautiful blonde sat in the Jacuzzi while steam overwhelmed the rather large bathroom. It became stifling, causing the woman to get out of the tub and open the window, even though it was late December and very cold outside. The young woman inhaled deeply, the frigid air tickling her nose as it came in the window in huge white puffs.

"Ahh.. much better. Now I can breathe." she sighed as the cold air caused her nipples to harden and goose-bumps to run up her arms. She slid back into the steamy hot whirlpool, looking around the elegant bathroom. "May as well enjoy this luxury while it lasts." she spoke as the jets pounded her delicate skin. Sadly, she was well aware that was only a matter of time before someone came knocking on the door to take her key. Take the key to her apartment, throwing her out into the cold with nowhere to go; and no way to earn a living.

She poured some more perfumed bubble bath into the tub as she frowned. It wasn't as if she always had money. She knew how to survive in the streets. Still, not having money was difficult. It made life much easier. It bought comfort and the nicest cars.

She smiled, thinking about how she loved to drive. Racing around corners, and even chasing mobile suit battles for a better view. She leaned back, still smiling the cold smile that had become as much a part of her face as her nose.

Even her parents knew the importance of money. They had sold her when she was only three to the owner of an inn on some forgotten colony. She had scrubbed floors untill she was six, and then by chance she met a young boy who stayed at the inn she was forced to work at.

The boys name was Treize Kushranada. He took sympathy on her, a scrawny, lonely child, even though he wasn't much more than a child himself. At the age of twelve, he took her in and harbored her. Took care of her and even cared for her. He was the first and perhaps only person who cared for her despite knowing her true pathetic self. She remembered his kindness, when he smuggled her onto his shuttle and took her to to his mansion on earth. He allowed her to eat with him and treated her like an equal, having his servants wait on her and giving her a luxury she had never dreamed of, her own room.

Because his parents had died when he was just a child, he was left with the money and riches to spend as he pleased. He tried to keep her with him, teaching her manners and chivalry. Although he was very young, he had sophistication beyond his years. Unfortunately, it wasn't long after she first came to stay with him that the police called with questions. The young woman sighed as she though of the time they had come into the house and Treize had ordered her to hide in the top of her closet. Still, they had almost found her. So Treize had done the only thing he could, he went to his main supporter and only adult confident, Duke Dermail.

Dermail had been most helpful. He offered to take the little girl in as his lost granddaughter. He forged files and created an identity for the then nameless little girl. He paid for her schooling and he taught her how manipulate people as well as introducing her to the beauty of battle.

When she was nine, Dermail flavored her life story by telling her that he traced back her heritage. According to him, her father was a soldier who died in the war and her mother had died from some illness shortly after. At the time the girl accepted it for fact, considering herself an orphan. But now as a young woman, she wondered why she had never bothered to follow up on it.

She shook her head. It didn't matter to her anymore if her parents were alive. In her mind, she truly was an orphan, with both Treize and Dermail, the only people she considered family, dead. However, while Durmail cared for her, it was a traded care. Because, he cared for her, only for what she could do within the Romefeller foundation. Thus, she returned respect rather than love… more of a gratitude to him, for the many things he did for her.

The woman tilted her head. When she thought about it, everyone she had ever known had an alterative reason for caring for her. Not that she blamed them. She, herself, was not worth caring for. Who was she really but a nameless nobody who had long ago lost the ability to care for others? Expanding her realm of thought she spoke the first name that came to mind.

"Quatre Rababa Winner." She licked her lips. Now there was someone she could almost care for… almost. He was actually the only one who knew, to her knowledge, that she was still alive. He had insisted on using god knows how many means to search for her after Libra's destruction.

After explaining to him, quite haughtily, that simulations were not the only mobile suits she could pilot, they had written back and forth and met a few times for lunch or a walk in the park. She had grown to care about him a great deal. More than she knew she was capable of.

However, in his last letter, he had made it more than clear that they were "just friends". Which, in Quatre's language, meant that maybe it was better if they weren't. The guy, as always, was too gentlemanly to state his real intentions.

He tried to say that he was doing it for her, because she needed to "...make more acquaintances" and all that. He felt that he was "...holding her back." She closed her eyes tightly. The fancy language did nothing to spare her feelings. She knew of the stoic pilot with the odd hair. She was not blind to the looks of love between the two. She shook her head opening her eyes slowly. It did not good to dwell – she was no innocent princess in need of a knight.

Quatre was a kind person however. She knew that if she asked, he would gladly help her out and give her money or at least a place to stay. But he was kind, because he believed her to be innocent and only tainted by war and the 'death' of her father. "If only he knew..." she sighed. 'If only he knew the things I did in the foundation to stay ahead.'

She shook her head, her wet hair lightly bouncing off of her face. She could not ask him for help, because he would be giving it under false pretences. And, nothing comes without a price. Eventually she would have to reciprocate somehow. What did she have to offer besides…

Her eyes glittered darkly as she clenched and unclenched her fists forcing herself away from that train of thought. Quatre wasn't like that. But still… in an attempt to spare her feelings, he, being closest to her, forgot that she didn't have the same feelings to spare. She frowned, leaning back into the bath and ignoring the fact that it wasn't truly hot anymore.

There was always…

"Relena Dorlin Peacecraft." The woman spoke, shaking her head. That girl was too naive, too trusting for her own good. Sure she had the great Heero Yuy looking out for her, but one of these days she was going to get taken in.

A rare genuine smile crossed the womans lips. 'Naive or no, she was kind to me.' Relena had never let on that she had any distrust for the young woman or her position within the Romafeller Foundation. Although, Relena was also kind under false pretences. She believed that the girl had come to learn of pacifism, when in reality, she had come to see and assess the one and only Heero Yuy, and assist her connections within the Romefeller foundation.

Still, Relena had guts. She always stands up for what she believes in, and shows no fear. 'That's why the people follow her.' The woman nodded. 'Why I almost followed her.' A frown flickered across her face. 'But, she doesn't need someone like me to taint her.'

The young woman sat up in the tub hugging her knees to her naked chest, ignoring the cold wind blowing unchecked in the window. She really didn't have long in this apartment. It was paid for by the savings and life insurance of her supposed grandfather, Duke Dermail. She had long since received the letter stating that she needed to submit to a routine DNA check to confirm her lineage.

She had, of course, refused and now had no access to Durmail's funds. 'If only he'd left a will...' she shook her head and bit her lip. No sense blaming the dead geezer. He had been kind enough, it was not his fault he could not foresee his own death. Still that didn't change the facts that any day now, they would come knocking on the door to throw her into the street. Just as soon as they realized that they were not going to receive their monthly payment.

"What will become of me?" she wondered.

'I who did not fight.' she twirled her finger around the now, luke-warm water.

'I who did not lead.' She stopped fidgeting and placed both hands around her ankles as she fixed her sight at some distant point of which she was hardly aware.

'I, who sat in the shadows and whispered words of advice to both sides of the war. Who probably influenced this world more than any other single person...'

She lowered her head onto her knees taking a deep breath, remembering the words of an observant gundam pilot. 'I who cannot cry.'

She bit her lip, 'What happens now? Am I to fade back into the shadows that I was born and have lived in my whole life? Being manipulative and deceitful has gotten me no where... My whole life has been a play and now that I've played my part, is it time for me to disappear back stage never to be heard of again...?'

Suddenly she realized that the water was getting cold and the wind was, in fact, carrying bits of snow onto the dark green tile floor. She stood up shivering violently. She grabbed a towel and fled the bathroom, suddenly feeling chilled by much more than the cold.

Rushing into the bedroom she flung herself on the bed. For a moment she lie there breathing in the scent of fresh linen. Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she sat up and looked around.

There was nothing to define the person that lived here. No pictures, no awards or trophies, no keepsakes, no mementos. There was only plain peach-colored walls and simple neat furniture. It hardly looked lived in. Everything there, save her clothes, had been there when she moved in.

The young woman stood and got dressed quickly. She attempted to dry her hair, before she got frustrated and threw it into a braid. "Why don't I simply cut it off?" she growled before she coldly smiled. 'Because I like the attention it gets me.' She answered herself as shecontinued to smile coldly looking at the two unruly tendrils that stuck out over her forehead.

She continued to look into the mirror long after she arranged her hair. Cold blue eyes stared back at her, set under her unusual eyebrows. She could always pluck them, but like her hair, she liked the attention she received from people who though them odd. They were intimidating. 'Like me.' she thought, as she set her lips into her customary thin smile.

She checked her wallet and frowned. 'Well, it's not much. But it's better than nothing.' Grabbing her discreet black coat, she threw it on over her casual dress of jeans and a blue sweater. Pulling a hat over her head and putting on her boots she purposely left the keys in the apartment and locked the door. 'I'm off on my own.' She thought to herself. 'To truly disappear into the shadows I was born.'

"Goodbye, forever, Dorothy Catalonia." she whispered as she closed the apartment door.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to question or comment on anything that came to your mind while reading. Even a bad comment is better than no comment at all!

I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters and make NO profit off the writing of this humble story.

Chapter 1 was Revised March 2006! More revisions to come… (I appreciate your patience on waiting while I go through all the OLD chapters, which were written in NOTEPAD!) For crying out loud! During revisions, both grammar and any un-matching plot points will be addressed… Thanks again for reading.