Title: Memories of My Heart, Part I
Rating: PG-13 for graphic violence and language
Disclaimer: I wrote the story, but I don't own the characters!
Author Notes: My apologies for taking so long to write this story.
This is a Heero/Relena fanfiction. It's not a fluffy piece of romance; I try to
make the characters as real as it is possible to do through writing -cough cough- ^.^.
Sorry this has taken so long to write, I've had problems with time due to school
and sickness! Enjoy! ^.-
Title: Memories of My Heart, Part I
Author: Mirakuru Romansu
The sensitive tips of Relena's fingers rested lightly on her dry lips. The phantom
sensation of Heero's kiss remained to haunt her, although the party at which he kissed
her ended three days ago. The moment itself was over and written eternally in the inked
pages of the past; however, the memory itself was gloriously alive and cherished in the
of sanctuary of her mind. She attempted to lose the heart-swelling thought in the
cluttered depths of her brain, but the memory of his lips rose on wings like a butterfly
to float freely without constraint. Relena sighed. Suddenly, the neat pile of paperwork on
her desk became an annoyance. She needed open space and fresh air, the office was suffocating.
"Good afternoon, Minister Peacecraft." The office security guard smiled politely as
Relena approached.
"Hello, Jorge." Relena replied warmly. "I'm going outside for a walk."
"Do you wish to have an escort?"
"No thank you, I will be fine on my own." Relena's smile was reassuring.
Tall rows of perfectly manicured hedges wove an intricate maze which lead to a secret--a
beautiful flower garden hidden directly in the center of the emerald labyrinth. Relena
progressed leisurely along the grassy path. Hand outstretched from her side, her fingers
gingerly brushed against the waxy hedge leaves as she strolled. She could solve the maze with
her eyes closed, it had been an enchanting part of her life since her childhood. The golden
afternoon sun warmed her pale cheeks and illuminated her shadowed heart. Overcome by a feeling
of utter freedom, Relena kicked off her shoes and half-ran through the turns and corners
of the path. The only thought in her mind was of the cool, meshed feel of the soft grass
beneath her stockinged feet. The enterance into the garden was a wide opening between two
long hedgerows. It beckoned and welcomed her.
The garden was slow in awakening into the light of spring, an especially cold winter
made the flora shy to welcome the spring's arrival. However, the magnolia trees' few creme
pink blossoms hinted at a magnificent display yet to come. Soon, the wireframe bareness of
the rose plants would burst with scarlet, ivory, and carmine blooms. But the entire garden
was not without colorful flowers. Dainty bluebells lined the stone pathway, budding daffodils
encircled the marble birdbaths, and exotic tiger lilies guarded an ironworked white bench.
Relena took no notice of the benches as she sat down on the grass beneath a tall magnolia
tree. She closed her eyes and leaned back against its sturdy trunk. She needed a place to
be alone with her thoughts of Heero. The quicker she sorted her thoughts, the quiker she
could lock them away forever. Before her heart broke further and the pieces wouldn't be able
to be put together again.
***
"Working...Working...Working..." Duo Maxwell's legatto barritone voice carried a rich, soulful
melody as he tinkered with exposed wires and the inner parts of the Deathscythe Hell.
A polished, black leather boot tapped in time to the improvised song. A small leak in one of
the coolant chambers was the cause for several wires shorting out, numerous plasma coils rusting,
and a few fuel pipes freezing. Duo was horrified that his gundam had fallen into such a state
of what he called mucho crapiness; therefore, he pushed himself to return the mecha to
it's former glory. "Ticka ticka tick." Duo scatted along with the crink of a wrench
looseneing a large metal bolt. He enjoyed mechanics, but the happy anxiety bubbling within him
was caused by his excitement about the World Alliance Peace Conference which would be taking
place tonight. Discussing world affairs and champagne-flooded parties walked hand in hand, and
Duo had never been to a party he didn't enjoy...Except for when he was being shot at with sniper
bullets intended for someone else... He shivered at the memory and cast a glance at his
bandaged hand. The cut had scabbed over and was healing nicely, but it had to be treated
gingerly so the wound would not reopen. Duo sat down with his feet dangling over the large
lip of the Deathscythe's hatch opening; he was not bothered by the 50 feet of empty
space seperating his flesh and bone body from a brutally hard concrete floor. Death did not
scare Duo; dying did not phase him. He was still trying to understand if he thought himself
invincible, or if his apathy was born of simply not cherishing his own life. He was too
busy being alove to dwell on his own mortality...
Like a wingless angel, Duo bent his body forward to watch the white-clad form of Wufei
practicing his meditative breathing. Moving a few inches further would topple Duo off the
platform, but his heart did not even thump a beat faster. "'Hey, Wu! I'm coming down, catch me!"
Duo shouted playfully. He attached repeling ropes to the built-in harness of his mechanic's
jumpsuit and quickly repelled from the platform with the blind grace of a child running head-on
into ocean waves. He was falling...and touched the ground with surprising agility.
"You should look before you leap, Maxwell! The last thing I want is to break a flying
idiot's fall." Wufei growled in a low voice.
"Yeah, Mr. Balanced Zen Energy. I think kharma kicked you in the ass."
An innocently sweet smile curved Duo's lips, drawing attention to his arched, mischeivious
eyebrows. "The 'Scythie's in working order now, I need Quatre to run a diagnostic on her.
Do you know where Kitty is?"
"No, he isn't around the hangar anywhere. Who knows? Maybe he has more important
matters to deal with--h'mmmm maybe world peace--than playing doctor to your Gundam."
Wufei snorted.
"C'eset la vie!" Duo sighed dramatically, wiping his smudged fingers on the front of
his jumpsuit.
***
"...Quadrant 4 running at 67%...Quadrant 3 running at 93%..." Quatre announced, his ice blue
eyes focused on the glowing colored shapes and numbers on the computer screen. The green, yellow,
red, blue, and orange lines formed the skeletal and mecha-muscular systems of a Gundam.
The diagnostic should have come up with an green Gundam instead of the vibrant array of colors
which indicated the amount of power each section of the mecha was recieving.
"Damn." Heero grumbled under his breath. "That is unacceptable." He stalked to the make-shift
computer desk made from packaging crates and gave the screen a hard glare. "This," he poked to a
large red-colored area, "...is wired wrong. I'll fix it."
"Sorry--"
"It's all right." Heero attempted to smile, but his lips would not move. They were frozen in the
same stoic, grimacing face he always wore. As much as Heero wished to be more "human", his
attempts were failing. How could he change himself; how could he forget his past? He was a
trained murder and assassin. Unlike a computer program, he could not delete his past from his
memory. He envied the simple existance of machines. They worked without thought or care for
anything. They just do as they are told. In a way, Heero felt a kinship with machines, except
he was alive, though only because he was breathing.
"The other Gundams should be repaired by tonight. Duo saw to it himself that the proper parts
were ordered from his sweeper connections... Can we trust them, you think?" Quatre blinked.
"We know the sweepers can get the parts we need. Gundams are weapons. Weapons are made by
men who do not want peace. Men who don't want peace would do anything to keep making weapons.
To keep making weapons, there must be war. Since Gundams can win the war, the weapon makers
will do everything to stop the Gundams, including sabotage. We're all part of one big,
neverending cycle of cat-and-mouse." Heero said in his usual detached, soft voice. "We've
become the war." Quatre nodded although he wasn't sure he understood Heero's burdened,
dark brooding. Quatre shuddered at the mention of war and of the thought it might not ever end.
"Take the data printout to Milliardo, I will see him as soon as I can." Heero nodded once
then flipped down his protective welding visor. Hot orange and white sparks shot into the air
like crackling pollen as the intense heat of the welding torch met cold metal plating.
Obediently, Quatre neatly folded the perferated computer paper and walked briskly to
his meething.
Heero needed time alone, away from people. He found other people's emotions were as
tanglesome as spiderwebs. If he could function without emotion, why could they not?
The torch swayed in his hand as he attempted to convince himself he had no emotions.
He had hate...anger...blood lust...and probably a great amount of evil and insanity in him as
well. None of those bothered him, they were all he had known for most of the 21 years of his
life. But the small, budding emotion rising from the dirt of his darkness scared him. It
refused to die, Heero could not kill it; he could only ignore it. Love cannot be conquered
once it has even the slightest holding place. Love? He squeezed his eyes shut until his face
ached painfully. Weakness...
***
Relena strolled along the front walkway of the Peacecraft Mansion with her head held
high. Her prim golden hair was slightly mused from the breeze and her cheeks were flushed
a pretty pink. She felt wonderful, did her eyes sparkle as much as she thought they were?
"Morning, Ms. Relena." The two guards at the front enterance chorused in unison.
Relena beamed as one swiftly moved to open one of the double doors for her.
"Thank you very much, gentlemen." Her smile only grew wider. Who knew happiness was so
contagious? It was as if her blood had suddenly been replaced with thousands of shining
bubbles, like champagne. Her heart hiccuped and she felt almost giddy with the world.
She walked quickly through the hallways and echoing cooridors of the Mansion, she flew
to her office and burst into the room. . . And collided face-first into someone.
She jumped at the surprise, unable to control her body's wild reflex to the shock.
"Miss Relena! Are you all right?" The elegantly tailored 17 year-old billionaire
Quatre Raberba Winner whispered in a concerned voice as he placed a steadying hand on her
arm. The forehead of his angelic face was wrinkled in worry.
"Oh...yes. I'm fine! I really should watch where I'm going!" Relena laughed. She
brushed the crisp shoulder of his designer midnight-blue suit with her hand in a motherly
way. "Were you looking for me?"
"No, Miss Relena. Your brother and I met to discuss... business." Quatre blushed then
squared his shoulders. "Excuse me, but I must be getting back to work." He grinned in apology.
"Of course. Sorry for the hold up." Relena returned. "Good bye, I'll see you
tonight at the peace conference."
"Yes, farewell Miss Relena." Quatre tilted his head in a gentlemen's gesture of departing.
Relena wove past several desks of her assistants. All seven secretaries were typing or filing
paper work. In a ripple effect of motion, they waved hello and said hi as Relena went by.
All of the windows in her personal office were open, making the gauzy white curtains curl in the
breeze like ghosts reaching out into oblivion. "What...?" Placed directly in the center of
her desk like a wolf sitting amongst a flock of grazing sheep was a tall crystal vase brimmingly
filled with beautiful blood red roses. Relena blinked, but the vase did not disappear.
Who sent the roses? Why? Perhaps it was just a thank you gift from one of the colonial
ambassadors, or only a present from a member of the United Earth Alliance? Curious, Relena
approached the flowers as if they would run away if she moved too fast. A lone white
card was almost hidden in the canopy of crimson blooms. She took great care in coaxing open
its envelope. In plain yet fancy cursive lettering was handwriten:
"The evening is ours, my dear Relena"
She felt blood rush to her cheeks although a wave of coldness chilled her body. My
dear Relena...Heero?! No, he wouldn't send flowers, would he? The remark was enigmatic and
cryptic. It was either written by someone close to her, or a penned by a distance admirer.
Admirer? She tossed the small card and envelope onto the desktop and picked up the phone.
"Hello? Milliardo? I was wondering if you know anything about the floral delivery
made to my office? Yes, *that* boquet of roses... Oh, so no one knows who they are from?"
Disappoinment lowered her voice. "No, I don't have a boyfriend! Not even a secret one.
Ugh, serves me right for calling you in the first place. See you at dinner!" Relena sighed,
resting the phone in its craddle. "Go away." She snorted to herself as she carefully picked
up the vase and set it gently on the floor beside the desk. There was paperwork to be
done and a silly bunch of flowers was not going to distract her attention. Her manicured
fingernails tapped an irritated banter on the desktop. "Damn it..." Relena sighed, allowing her
face to fall into her hands. She massaged her temples to help ease the slight ache creeping to
her head.
***
"Kitty! Where ya been, buddy?!" Duo shouted across the hangar. Wufei
cringed as the high-pitched greeting echoed obnoxioiusly in the open space as well as in
his own ears..A flash of slight panic brightened Quatre's face and he stepped backward.
He felt as ambushed as he looked. "Business." The young man shrugged nonchalantly.
Wufei cast a smug, haughty smirk at Duo. "Mainly to discuss tonight's conference." He
explained vaguely.
"Ooo, aren't you special!" Duo cooed and chuckled. "I can't wait! But whose idea was
it to put the Deathscythe and the Heavy Arms outside the mansion for the conference???
I mean, nothing says "Hey, welcome y'all peace lovin' folks!" more than four tons of
butt-whooping metal on the lawn! It's Gundams on parade!" His braid flipped freely
in the air like the tailfin of a fish writhing out of water.
"General Milliardo prefers to use Gundams as protection rather than a showpiece of power.
It is a delicate matter, Duo, and probably makes us hypocrites for having Gundams right outside
the walls where peace-finding discussions are taking place... It is the only way to ensure
everyone's safety, though the pacifists do not agree with weapons, they do value their lives."
A voice as soft as a feather brushing against draping satin informed. "That is why the
Deathscythe and the Heavy Arms will be on guard outside, and is the reason why the Shenlong, Wing,
and Sandrock will be on stand by..." Trowa Barton replied bluntly.
"Well, the Gundies are in tip-top working order. I used my "connections" to get ahold of
the best salvage parts available... Tamper free, guaranteed!" Duo winked proudly. "You can't
trust real businessmen as far as you can grow 'em...or however that phrase goes."
Duo tugged a long section of his bangs and tilted his head sheepishly. Black grease from his
hand left a smudge on the side of his face.
"You filthy barn animal. Don't you ever bathe? Or would soap burn your flesh?"
Wufei grimaced in disdain. Whereas Duo was covered in blackish grime and grease, Wufei's
silk outfit was so white it practically glowed under the phlorescant lighting.
"Oh, Wuuuu." Duo batted his eyelashes and yodeled in a girlish voice. He flexed his
smudged fingers warningly like a tiger preparing to pounce on it's prey. He crept closer to
Wufei, whose stern facade took on a look of scared panic.
"Maxwell! You weird little creep! Do not touch me! I will be forced to break your turkey
neck." Wufei jumped into a defensive martial arts stance.
"Ohhh yeah, you're gonna beat me down with the 'whooping crane'. Riiiiight." Duo
comically mocked Wufei's stance. "Wuuuuu!" He shouted wildly before running full speed toward
a wide-eyed Wufei. Quatre dropped his shoulders; Trowa raised his eyebrows.
"Do we have reasons to worry? Otherwise, the Gundams could 'rouse paranoia and
tension." Trowa, ignoring the high-pitched shrieks and hoarse curses behind him,
bent his head and whispered to Quatre.
"Milliardo is worried more about secuirty than Relena is, Trowa. It has only been 5 days
since the last attempt was made to end Relena's life. We can't be sure, but questions have
surfaced about whether or not the latest attempt is connected to the conference.
Heero and myself will watch over Relena, and will stay close to her. She refuses to have
Milliardo's hired bodyguards following her around, they're too inconspicuous for her liking."
Quatre explained with a slight shrug.
"It's understandable..." Trowa nodded and turned his head away.
"Who knew such an excellent Gundam pilot could also be the world's biggest goof?"
Quatre's laugh could have been either amused or a shy attempt to hide his disapproval. Trowa
and Quatre watched as Duo chased Wufei like the Boogeyman attempting to snatch a small child.
Who knew Wufei could run so fast?
"Hail hail protectors of the world..." Trowa muttered in dry, mocking humor.
***
The delicate gold chain slipped through her fingers in a ripple of smooth, water-like
motion. The dangling heart locket swung under her hand in a gently languid rhythm. The locket
Heero bought for her in Switzerland... Relena dared not wear the lovely piece of jewelry, she
was almost afraid of it and of what it meant to her. Why did he buy it in the first place?
As a gift, or as an alibi to not leave her side? He had been suspiciously protectice and watchful
of her in Switzerland, considering his damning past attempts at assassination. What changed
between the two of them--the pacifist and the pilot? When suddenly he seemed to be her protector
rather than her foe. Unlike the other Gundam pilots, Heero's loyalty belonged to Earth, not
to a person or a military organization. He was wild. If attempts were made to
force him to do anything against his will, he would bare his teeth and fight for his freedom.
However, if he chose to come willing, he would defend to the death.
"All in the name of peace..." Relena murmured, closing her eyes for a brief moment.
As if in a trance, she stared as the small heart quivered to and fro as if it fighting for
its own freedom. Relena placed the necklace inside a velvet-lined case and quickly closed the
lid. It snapped at her; it bit at her fingers. She barely noticed...Without seeing, she
glanced at her reflection in the wide vanity mirror. Her features were a blur of color
golden blond hair, magnolia-fair face, violet layers of gossamer material which swirled in
her daydreaming sapphire eyes. Diligently, Relena stood from her seat at the mirror and draped
a scarlet-and-white ribbon sash across her shoulder. The wide band stigmatized her position as
an important world leader, due to public relations, she was expected to wear her importance at
every attended social event.She slowly snaked her hands into elbow-length white gloves,
then pinched the backs of her pearl earrings. In her own way, Relena wore battle armor.
Her 'fighting skills' were her keen mind, persuasive words, and stubborn determination.
She could face anything now.
***
Dark, glossy bangs fell across Heero's cheek, attractively hiding half of his cool, compsed
profile. His haunted indigo eyes locked on the intricate piece of metal weighing down his
hand. It was one of three handguns he wore; two at his side and one on his leg. The vertical
length and crisp lines of his matte black tuxedo hid any trace of the weapons hidden beneath
the material. He wanted to blend in with the crowd, to be overlooked. Impossible. The air
around him seemed to hum at a frequency so high, it was a palpable force which could be felt
as a tingle against the skin. His long, tapered fingers deftly adjusted the microphone coiled
around his ear. The device was a nearly-invisible transmitter and receiver, it was lost in the
thickness of his hair.
"Oh Heero! I'm such a lucky girl! With you at my side *all night long*..." The
intimiate giggle caused a muscle in Heero's eyelid to twitch. His lips pursed into a gruesome
white line. Almost too swift to see, Heero slung the gun by the trigger loop around his finger.
Duo's eyes crossed as he oogled the hollow barrel pushing into his forehead. The 4 other Gundam
pilots in the room held their breath anxiously.
"I doubt you have the time." Heero smirked darkly. "One more joke about the
conference, Duo... One more. Go ahead, make it a good one because it will be engraved on your
tombstone." Heero's arm did not sway.
"Geez, I try to tease you and I get a gun pulled on me!" Duo choked in dramatic
offense. "You're only embarrassed because I know you love--" the ominous click of the safety
lock changed Duo's choice of words, "--being a grouch." He laughed in embarassment. Using
his a pointer finger, he nudged the gun's aim from his face. "No harm done, Heero.
Your secret's safe with me."
"Good." Heero replied, reholstering his gun. "Quatre and I will keep in communication
with Wufei, the Deathscythe, and the Heavy Arms at all times. Do not close the channel for
*any* reason, understood?"
"Yes." Four young men replied in unison. The secluded, dimly lit library
was located deep in the endless corridors of the mansion. The small room was not neglected;
it was lonely and rarely used. The ancient-looking books which lined the floor-to-celing
shelves were tombs of knowledge awaiting their day of discovery. Sympathetically, Trowa
reached out his hand and tenderly stroked the aged ridges puckered along the leather
bound spine of a unnamed, unmarked book. Like a blind man beholding brail, Trowa read the
energy of the book. Its history--both as cherished, scholarly text and as a forgotten,
outdated reference brought a slight flicker of a smile to his lips.
"Trowa--" Quatre enquired, his brow frowned in concern. "Are you--".
"Just getting something to read." Trowa's finger hooked the book from the shelf;
Quatre was not fooled. The young Arab and the acrobat were close, their friendship resembled
a united brotherhood. Quatre was extremely empathetic to other people's emotions; whereas,
Trowa was hyper-sensitive to the environment and his surroundings. Both pilots emotions and
sensations were felt more intensely than the emotions of regular people. In one another
they found a belonging, a state of acceptance which needed no words. "It seemed lonely."
"Well, food's gonna keep *me* company, considering I'm missing out on the
party." Duo pouted. Heero cast a murderous glare at Duo then turned his attention to
buttoning the top button of his coal black dress shirt and tightening the knot of
the matching tie around his neck.
"I hope you choke, Maxwell." Wufei simpered sweetly. Duo made sure Heero was
not watching, then made a wrinkled face and stuck out his tongue.
"Show time, fellows." Heero lisened to the device planted in his ear; he
was following a voice no one else could hear. "Be sure to turn your wire on,
Quatre, and the rest of you know what to do."
***
"In conclusion, I would like to express my heart-felt gratitude to every
person present this evening. I am not responsible for the astounding progress blazing
forth for peace. . ." Relena paused, allowing a murmur to ripple through the crowd of the
world's 300 most important governing officials and political figures. Several shouts of
disagreement rang out, but she calmly allowed them to pass. "It is you, the brave leaders
of the world, who have carried my message...Who have turned my message into campaigns.
And it is you," she spoke directly into one of the many dinosaur-like cameras televising
the conference, "the citizens of Earth and the Colonies who have turned those campains
into lifestyles. For this I applaud you and give you my sincerest... most respect-filled...
complements and thanks." From her standing position alone on the stage, Relena stepped
away from the ivory-colored speaking podium and was greeted by a roar of applause and
an overwhelmingly emotional stading ovation. Bright white flashes exploded from
reporters' cameras in a blinding, supernova of light. Gracefully, she smiled and glided from
the stage to Quatre's arm.
"Truly magnificent, Miss Relena." He commented sincerely.
"Thank you." She replied. A shiver tickled her spine as Heero fell into step
behind them. The guests remained standing until Relena and her escorts were seated
at the prestigious table of honor. Milliardo and Lucrezia Noin were two of the familiar
figures at the table applauding lightly. Milliardo privately raised a goblet of red wine in
a silent toast to Relena and winked. Noin nodded proudly. A rainfall of praises bantered in
Relena's ears.
"Spectacular!"
"Wonderful!"
"Bravo!"
Relena politely said her thank-yous. From her seat at the head of
the long, rectangular banquet table she surveyed the gleaming silverware, and
the twinlking crystal goblets resting on the ivory lace tablecloth. The persons seated at
each place setting sparkled also. The men wore tailored tuxedos of either black or
midnight blue color. The women wore gowns in various styles and colors. Flaunting their sex,
they adorned their wrists and necks in winking gems and dangling gold. All of the women,
Relena noted, except Lucrezia Noin. The tall, lithe 27 year old liutenant wore a simple
gown of classic black. Her short ebony hair was slicked back from her pale oval face. The
only jewelry she wore was a small pair of dangling rhinestone earrings which hung sylishly
from her bare earlobes. Lucrezia wore a facade of passive indifference, it was her only
defense against the uncomfortable situation she was taking part in. Formal ocassions were not
'her scene'. Relena was grateful for Milliardo's soothing presence and how her brother
shielded Noin's uneasiness by calling unwanted attention away from her.
Unaware of the wide smile on her face, Relena's eyes wandered to the man seated on her
left side. Heero Yuy. His fingers were curled around a crystal goblet, idly tapping the crystal. Did he send her the roses? Did he write the mysterious note?
Anyone else's eyes would have seen Herro murmuring softly to himself; however, Relena knew
he was checking in with the other pilots and security officers. Afraid Heero might catch her
watching him, Relena sipped icewater from the short glass next to her own goblet of red wine.
***
"Ah, nothing like catered..." Duo sighed jadedly, stabbing his fork mercilessly
into the dry piece of pseudo-chicken wallowing in a sesspool of brown gravy.
"We're out here eating this...whatever it is... while they're in there feasting! I heard
there was going to be garlic-and-butter chicken, dainty little white potatoes,
luscious roasted beef, and oh, a sinfully tempting 4 layer forest cake." A choked
sob escaped from Duo's lips. The large screen infront of him, usually used
for visuals when in combat, was split into 4 sections. Pictured in the third and fourth
blocks were the video feeds from Wufei and Trowa's Gundam cockpits. Trowa smiled
secretively and picked at his own microwaveable dinner. Wufei, suspiciously half turned
from his screen, thought no one could see him nibbling on a large piece of tender roasted
beef or delicate little white potatoes.
"We get whatever is left over, Maxwell. Your sacrifice will be worth the
pain." Wufei replied sagely.
'Hey! Wufei! That's... YOU PIG! You took food from the kitchen intended for the
guests and you have the NERVE to lecture about sacrifice? HYPOCRITE!" Duo cried,
dramatically standing from his chair to point accusingly at Wufei.
"Enjoying the food, boys?" A green jagged line moved in a wave across the
first block of the screen as Heero's voice came over the communication channel.
"Heero, old fellow! Nice of you to join our party." Duo cried in a fake
British accent.
"Status report." Heero deadpanned.
"Chillin like a villian...Eating to take a beating...Everything is A-okay here.
Except for the fact Wu's a food thief." Duo yawned.
"Radar shows the skies are clear and friendly." Trowa announced, straightening
in his chair to read the small, blinking screen on the wide control panel.
"No sign of unwanted visitors here either." Wufei added, slouching cooly.
"The only problem security had was when a slight scuffle broke out amongst of group
of press photographers; they were fighting over the perfect spot to shoot approaching
guests...with their cameras of course..." Wufei snickered. "Other than that minior
incident, it's clear here."
"Copy. Out." Heero casually tapped his ear to turn off his transmitter.
His dark eyes settled upon Relena for the briefest of seconds. Animatedly, she spoke to
Quatre while gesturing poisedly with her hands.
"...Yes, dealing with ... negotiating ... foreign policy..." Heero caught
broken phrases of her sentence. It amazed him how polished and intelligent she was,
for being only 19 years old. At the Peacecraft Mansion, one year of time was equal
to ten years, or so it felt. Relena and himself were alike in the fact that they
both were forced to grow up at a young age, for different reasons. He had never
known a childhood. The earliest memory he could recollect was sitting
quietly on a cold, white tile floor. To his mind's eye, the background swirled
and blended into a blurred virgin white. His tiny hands craddled a
heavy piece of forged, black metal, his very own toy. Elfin fingers explored the
grooves and indented lines of the toy. Instinctively Heero knew the object
he held inflicted pain and caused harm. The hushed, gentle whispers of the adults
who wore white coats and roamed the facility like lost spirits told him the toy
was special, it even had a name. They called it a gun...
Heero's jaw squared in rebellion of the memory. He did not care about or
dwell the past... His body was an empty vessel--dead and hollow to emotions.
He could not decide who he wanted to be. A normal person or the perfect soldier?
His mind taunted him. Even if he wanted to be normal, he did not know how.
The perfect soldier was not so perfect after all. The grand dining hall
hummed with life. Heero's sensitive ear tuned in to the mellow sway of feminine
laughter, the indignant crisp snort of a man, and the crisp click of metal
meeting metal. Metal. Gun. Noise. Commotion. Stress... His body wracked a spasm which he could
not control. His heartbeat hammered through his temples and he felt as if he was drowning.
Heero opened his mouth to silently gasp air.
"Heero..." Relena noticed Heero's sudden shake and turned in her chair to
face him. Without thinking, her hand covered his clenched fist. His hand eased into
a flat stretch on the table top as her touch drained the anxiety from his body.
"Dinner is being served." Under the siren's spell, Heero's chin lifted and his
liquid cobalt eyes met Relena's azure eyes so directly and openly, Relena felt
defenseless.
"Thank you, Relena." Came the velvet response. Relena nodded, removed her hand,
and watched the mass of waiters and waitresses moving in curt lines through the
dining hall. Each uniformed server carried a gleaming silver tray of food on fancy
plates.
"I'm starving!" Milliardo whistled woofishly, his eyebrows quirked
mischeiviously as he spoke. Several people at the table chuckled and laughed while their
meals were set in front of them. "Relena is the guest of honor." The white-platinum
haired General grinned to Noin. She blushed and pursed her lips. "I propose madam
Vice Minister be the first to take a bite." He called teasingly to his sister.
"If you insist, Milliardo." Relena laughed. She unfolded her napkin and
smoothed the white cloth across the puff of lavender gown at her lap. Deft gloved
fingers grasped a slim, curved silver fork while the other hand steadied the silver
knife to cut into the tender roasted beef on her plate. The meat was cooked expertly
and practically melted beneath her utensils. She lifted her fork slowly to her
lips, but Heero snared her wrist in a grip so cruel, Relena's
fingers opened like a blossoming lily. The fork clattered onto the table in a shrill
tumble.
"Don't eat!" He whispered harshly. "DON'T EAT!" Heero knocked back his seat and
shouted. "The food is poisoned! DON'T EAT!". A startled wave of panic and disbelief
rose from the crowd. Several servers near Relena moved to draw weapons from their
jackets, though only Heero was quick enough to see it coming. In a arc of movement,
he dragged Relena from her seat. His arm wrapped protectively around her waist and held
her firmly against his body as he fired three shots. The guests screamed and
shouted anxiously as the three intruders fell to the ground, severly injured but
Heero spared their lives for Relena's sake. Relena clung to Heero for support; she
buried her face in the solid, warm comfort of his body.
"Heero...How...Thank you..." Her tongue was made of iron. Slightly embarrassed
to realize she still clung to him, Relena moved to pulled away, but Heero's arm kept her
close.
"He's dead! He's dead! He just fell over. Wham! He's dead!" Duo laughed
hysterically. "Cake today, corpse tomorrow...!" A demonic grin twisted his
face gruesomely. "He's just..." His head tilted backward and a deep, unstoppable rush of
cackles clawed from his lungs. "Dead! The darkness has decended..."
"Oh God..." Quatre winced in shocked acceptance. "Wufei-" The young blond
plugged his finger into his ear. It was nearly impossible to hear the hysterical conversation
coming through the communication channel. Great flicks and snaps of static mixed within
mangled words and shouts. The only cause for the scrambling would be cloudy atmospheric
conditions, or . . .
"Trowa! Check your radar!" Duo's voice hurtled across the channel then faded
to static.
"Duo! Trowa!" Quatre's scream vibrated like sandpaper along his vocal chords. Quatre's
young body shook in fear. "Something is wrong. Wufei was poisoned and I
believe we are under attack, or will be under attack momentarily."
"Let's move!" Milliardo shouted his order. Instantly the team of mobile suit pilots
seated several tables away jumped to attention.
"Come on, Quatre." Heero scooped Relena from her feet and into the craddle
of his arms. The rhythmic rocking of Heero's running gait jostled her, but she
held herself close to his chest and closed her eyes to focus on taking breaths.
"When we get to the hangar, check Wufei.." Heero turned his head to Quatre.
The 17 year old Winner heir nodded solemnly, the expensive Italian leather shoes
on his feet felt as if they were made of granite. The hangar welcomed them with an
ominous silence. Quatre dashed to the Shenlong while Heero carried Relena
into the small room used as a make-shift office. He gently yet quickly set her down and
touched her shoulders.
"Wait here and hide. You *will* be safe." He awkwardly bent forward; he
kissed her forehead then prowled from the office. The door locked behind him.
"Heero!" Relena cried, pressing her hands against the door. Hiding her
away made sense, yet she was angered at being treated no different than a child.
The office had a large plate window looking out into the hangar. Relena helplessly
watched Heero and Quatre converse. She could not hear their conversation, nor did
she know how to read lips. Lovingly, she pressed her fingertips against the glass
plane and whispered a prayer for both men. Relena sat on the floor beneath the
large desk in the small office so anyone looking through the window could not see her.
She hugged her knees to her chest, and waited.
"He's not dead! He's--" A light of hope illuminated Quatre's features.
"Quatre! Heero!" Milliardo's voice buzzed in both Gundam pilots ears,
stopping them in their tracks.
"What?" Heero asked.
"The mobile suits are sabotauged, we think some of the parts are tainted.
And I do not simply mean bad parts, I mean these machines were on a shut-down timer.
For exactly...two minutes ago. This is big league material." The General replied gruffly.
"Where did the parts come--" Quatre wondered.
"Duo." Heero and Millio spoke in unison.
"Which means the Gundams are also tampered with. All of them, except..." The perfect
soldier's voice trailed off.
***
"Can anyone hear me?! This is Heavy Arms... Bogeys detected! Maxwell, be still!
Don't even think about going crazy on me now." Trowa said in a steeled voice.
The universe pulled at him from every side and angle, yet he was trapped in one
place. "Can you handle this?"
"Yes, I will kill every one of those bastards!" Duo raged, slamming his
fist down onto the control panel. "They're going straight to hell and I's driving the
tour bus! Shinigami will have their very souls!!!" Duo strapped himself into his
chair, smacked on his pilot helmet, then callously punched the ignition button.
Electricity flowed through the cold body of the Gundam, Duo felt the power
circulate in his own body as well. The Deathscythe's engine purred; Duo's heart
pounded. His damp, clammy hands gripped the controls so hard, the rigid bones of his
knuckles pushed tensely against his skin. He urged the Gundam skyward--toward the
enemy and to his destiny. The Angel of Death took flight.
"I'm right behind you, Duo." Trowa stated calmly. The Heavy Arms became skybound
and sailed up to the evening night. Thousands of white, sparkling stars filled Trowa's
eyes as he beheld the heavens. He suddenly felt as if the universe was a dome placed over
his body, he was part of it because it was part of him. Seven stars shone the brightest
and moved closer at an amazingly speed. The objects were mobile suits descending to
do combat against Duo and Trowa. The DOLLS were invaders, if the Gundam pilots did not
destroy the enemy crafts, the lives of the guests would be endangered.
Duo laughed a husky chuckle to himself.
***
"How long will it take to fix the suits?" Noin questioned the mechanic,
unaware of how difficult it was for the younger male pilots and officers not to
oogle at the site of their beautiful commanding officer in an evening gown.
"Um...we aren't sure yet." The man stuttered nervously.
"He's out of his mind!" Milliardo blared, startling several mechanics nearby in
the Mobile Suit garage.
"Sir?"
"No, not you. Dismissed!" He crisply sent the man away. "This is insanity..."
His face fell into his white gloved hands. "Not only are the Suits paralyzed, Noin,
but the Gundams have tainted parts, too. We're defenseless..."
"General, you know the Deathscythe and the Heavy Arms reported taking
off three minutes ago!" Liutenant Noin gasped. "The air force is sending planes out.
It will take a half hour for them to reach us."
"Damn..." The word came in a rush of exhaled air. "That is the least of our
problems. Heero is trying to save Trowa and Duo..."
"How?! The Wing--"
"He's not taking the Wing, Noin. For the last 6 months, a new Gundam has been
worked upon and built, somwehat. However," He emphasized his words to silence Noin's shock,
"The damned thing is barely worthy of a junkyard than for a spaceflight. The weapons system
was installed only four days ago, it has not even been tested yet! But if anyone can
pull this off, it is Heero Yuy..."
***
"Eat scythe, BASTARDS!!!" Duo cackled joyously at the 3 DOLLS before him; he
stabbed his finger onto the Deathscythe's weapons arming button. Nothing happened.
The green energy beam which usually formed the beautiful weapon of destruction was not
generated, nor did an alarm sound to warn Duo of any malfunctions... "What the hell!
NO!" Duo sobbed, tears streamed further down his feverish cheeks. "No! Damn it, NO!"
He pounded the control panel in agony. Wufei was dead! Revenge must be served!
"Maxwell, what's wrong!?" Trowa shouted, watching Duo's emotional breakdown from his
visuals screen. . The DOLLS fired four small bursts of plasma at the Deathscythe, each shot
hit its mark, undefended.
"My scythe won't work! My beautiful scythe..." Duo seemed to sigh like a small child, like
an exhausted child. He was useless now, Trowa cringed.
"I have your back!" Trowa assured and began to pilot into an attack position. He quickly
flipped the weapons arming switch which would bring the HeavyArms arsenal of heavy-duty fire
power to life. Nothing happened. The cannons did not come out from their restful hybernation
beneath the HeavyArms' armor. Nausea and shock gripped Trowa. It was not fair! It was not
reality! "Damn! Why won't our weapons WORK?! Someone's been toying with us!" He
grimaced, closing his eyes and expelling a composed breath. "Wait!" His head snapped upward as
a hopeful thought popped into his mind. "My blade!". Anxiously, Trowa shuddered in relief as
the three-foot long Arabian blade erupted from the HeavyArms' right forearm. It was the only
weapon which worked, and it was the only weapon available. The Deathscythe took the four
plasma shots as eaily as water rolling from a duck's back. Trowa was enraged. How unfair it
was to be attacked when they had no weapons except for a primitive blade!!! As the next DOLL
moved to assault Duo, Trowa moved quickly and sliced off the enemy's gun arm. He then
cut the DOLL in half lengthwise. If the pilot was not dead from the blade, he surely died from
the explosion which ensued as the mecha crackled with electricity and burst into a
ball of bright energy. A part of Trowa's heart twisted painfully, but he numbed himself to
courageously face the remaining DOLLS.
***
"I christen thee the... ... ... Quicksilver." Heero tapped a plastic soda
bottle against a silver, unpainted limb of the Gundam. Supersticiously, Quatre
insisted the Gundam, as every other vessel, be named before the first flight.
Lacking a champagne bottle to break against the Gundam, Heero reluctantly used
an empty bottle dug from a near by trashcan. "This is a good sign." He quirked as
he tossed the bottle over his shoulder and opened a hatch in the back of the
leg which lead to the cockpit. Skillfully his fingers flipped on every necessary
switch and stabbed every important button. "She's running at an overall 65%. H'mm,
I like the odds. They're almost against me." Heero chuckled lightly to himself.
The Quicksilver reminded Quatre of the human skeleton found in an anatomy class.
Just as with the classroom aid, the veins, arteries, and vital organs of the Gundam's body
were exposed in a tangle of intertwining wires of all colors. Only one arm and half of a leg
were metal-plated, providing pathetic protection against any enemy attack. Quatre agreed with
Heero's name choice for the Gundam. The Quick Silver was entirely metallic because the dull
silver Gundanium had not been covered with decorative paint. "Godspeed, Heero." Quatre
said softly.
"Hn." Heero grunted as the Quicksilver rattled and shook violently against turblunace in
the atmosphere. Old candy wrappers, styrofoam coffe cups, and crumpled napkins rained upon
him from an overhead cabinet. Along with the litter, a few lose wires, bolts, and pieces of
unidentifiable mechanical parts assailed him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Heero hoped
the pieces falling were not vital parts of the Gundam. He swated at the litter in annoyance,
his arm swept the mess from the half-blinking control panel. The visuals screen occasionally
flickered and crackled with snow as if to tease him and test his patience. Luckily,
Duo and Trowa were not extremely high from the ground, Heero did not believe the Quicksilver
would survive a trip into the depths of outerspace. He sucked in a shocked gasp of air at
the scene playing on his monitor. The Deathscythe shivered at the onslaught of plamsa shots
being absorbed into its body as the HeavyArms valiantly attempted to defend the other
Gundam though both were in trouble. Six DOLLS circled around the pair like vultures
awaiting the death of their dying prey.
"What the... ....!?" Trowa stammered, catching sight of the mangled mess of the
Quicksilver.
"Don't ask." Heero replied bluntly, smiling wryly to Trowa's video feedback. Deftly,
he readied the cumbersome plasma cannon attached to the Quicksilver's left arm. "Just get
out of here, now! Your Gundams are useless here. "GO!" A glow of purple plasma grew in an orb at
the cannon's barrel. Heero fired the blast, sending the Quicksilver into a shaking spasm as if
it had been struck. His fingers dug into the arms of the pilotchair. Damn! The wretched Gundam
could only fire a few more shots before it would rattle apart.
Luckily, Heero's first shot made impact and sent a DOLL's fried carcass falling to the
earth below. Five more were left... The Quicksilver moved obediently to Heero's superior
piloting, it repsonded to every touch and urging like a polished machine. He fired another
plasma shot and took out another enemy. So far, so good. The Gundam rattled violently, but
Heero did not notice.It was all too easy, he was invincible! None of the other pilots in the
sky were as skilled as him! None could even be compared to him. Heero moved to fire another
shot, but would the Quicksilver last? His mind snagged. In that split second of indecision,
two DOLLS moved in and unleashed energy blasts at him. Heero's eyes grew wide as he saw death
approaching. He was afraid... A vision of Relena, smiling and comforting, was trapped behind
his eyes. She appeared so beautiful and calm...Smiling to himself, Heero pressed the cannon's
trigger button, just as a bright flare of exploding sparks and silver metal lit up the
nightsky...
Rating: PG-13 for graphic violence and language
Disclaimer: I wrote the story, but I don't own the characters!
Author Notes: My apologies for taking so long to write this story.
This is a Heero/Relena fanfiction. It's not a fluffy piece of romance; I try to
make the characters as real as it is possible to do through writing -cough cough- ^.^.
Sorry this has taken so long to write, I've had problems with time due to school
and sickness! Enjoy! ^.-
Title: Memories of My Heart, Part I
Author: Mirakuru Romansu
The sensitive tips of Relena's fingers rested lightly on her dry lips. The phantom
sensation of Heero's kiss remained to haunt her, although the party at which he kissed
her ended three days ago. The moment itself was over and written eternally in the inked
pages of the past; however, the memory itself was gloriously alive and cherished in the
of sanctuary of her mind. She attempted to lose the heart-swelling thought in the
cluttered depths of her brain, but the memory of his lips rose on wings like a butterfly
to float freely without constraint. Relena sighed. Suddenly, the neat pile of paperwork on
her desk became an annoyance. She needed open space and fresh air, the office was suffocating.
"Good afternoon, Minister Peacecraft." The office security guard smiled politely as
Relena approached.
"Hello, Jorge." Relena replied warmly. "I'm going outside for a walk."
"Do you wish to have an escort?"
"No thank you, I will be fine on my own." Relena's smile was reassuring.
Tall rows of perfectly manicured hedges wove an intricate maze which lead to a secret--a
beautiful flower garden hidden directly in the center of the emerald labyrinth. Relena
progressed leisurely along the grassy path. Hand outstretched from her side, her fingers
gingerly brushed against the waxy hedge leaves as she strolled. She could solve the maze with
her eyes closed, it had been an enchanting part of her life since her childhood. The golden
afternoon sun warmed her pale cheeks and illuminated her shadowed heart. Overcome by a feeling
of utter freedom, Relena kicked off her shoes and half-ran through the turns and corners
of the path. The only thought in her mind was of the cool, meshed feel of the soft grass
beneath her stockinged feet. The enterance into the garden was a wide opening between two
long hedgerows. It beckoned and welcomed her.
The garden was slow in awakening into the light of spring, an especially cold winter
made the flora shy to welcome the spring's arrival. However, the magnolia trees' few creme
pink blossoms hinted at a magnificent display yet to come. Soon, the wireframe bareness of
the rose plants would burst with scarlet, ivory, and carmine blooms. But the entire garden
was not without colorful flowers. Dainty bluebells lined the stone pathway, budding daffodils
encircled the marble birdbaths, and exotic tiger lilies guarded an ironworked white bench.
Relena took no notice of the benches as she sat down on the grass beneath a tall magnolia
tree. She closed her eyes and leaned back against its sturdy trunk. She needed a place to
be alone with her thoughts of Heero. The quicker she sorted her thoughts, the quiker she
could lock them away forever. Before her heart broke further and the pieces wouldn't be able
to be put together again.
***
"Working...Working...Working..." Duo Maxwell's legatto barritone voice carried a rich, soulful
melody as he tinkered with exposed wires and the inner parts of the Deathscythe Hell.
A polished, black leather boot tapped in time to the improvised song. A small leak in one of
the coolant chambers was the cause for several wires shorting out, numerous plasma coils rusting,
and a few fuel pipes freezing. Duo was horrified that his gundam had fallen into such a state
of what he called mucho crapiness; therefore, he pushed himself to return the mecha to
it's former glory. "Ticka ticka tick." Duo scatted along with the crink of a wrench
looseneing a large metal bolt. He enjoyed mechanics, but the happy anxiety bubbling within him
was caused by his excitement about the World Alliance Peace Conference which would be taking
place tonight. Discussing world affairs and champagne-flooded parties walked hand in hand, and
Duo had never been to a party he didn't enjoy...Except for when he was being shot at with sniper
bullets intended for someone else... He shivered at the memory and cast a glance at his
bandaged hand. The cut had scabbed over and was healing nicely, but it had to be treated
gingerly so the wound would not reopen. Duo sat down with his feet dangling over the large
lip of the Deathscythe's hatch opening; he was not bothered by the 50 feet of empty
space seperating his flesh and bone body from a brutally hard concrete floor. Death did not
scare Duo; dying did not phase him. He was still trying to understand if he thought himself
invincible, or if his apathy was born of simply not cherishing his own life. He was too
busy being alove to dwell on his own mortality...
Like a wingless angel, Duo bent his body forward to watch the white-clad form of Wufei
practicing his meditative breathing. Moving a few inches further would topple Duo off the
platform, but his heart did not even thump a beat faster. "'Hey, Wu! I'm coming down, catch me!"
Duo shouted playfully. He attached repeling ropes to the built-in harness of his mechanic's
jumpsuit and quickly repelled from the platform with the blind grace of a child running head-on
into ocean waves. He was falling...and touched the ground with surprising agility.
"You should look before you leap, Maxwell! The last thing I want is to break a flying
idiot's fall." Wufei growled in a low voice.
"Yeah, Mr. Balanced Zen Energy. I think kharma kicked you in the ass."
An innocently sweet smile curved Duo's lips, drawing attention to his arched, mischeivious
eyebrows. "The 'Scythie's in working order now, I need Quatre to run a diagnostic on her.
Do you know where Kitty is?"
"No, he isn't around the hangar anywhere. Who knows? Maybe he has more important
matters to deal with--h'mmmm maybe world peace--than playing doctor to your Gundam."
Wufei snorted.
"C'eset la vie!" Duo sighed dramatically, wiping his smudged fingers on the front of
his jumpsuit.
***
"...Quadrant 4 running at 67%...Quadrant 3 running at 93%..." Quatre announced, his ice blue
eyes focused on the glowing colored shapes and numbers on the computer screen. The green, yellow,
red, blue, and orange lines formed the skeletal and mecha-muscular systems of a Gundam.
The diagnostic should have come up with an green Gundam instead of the vibrant array of colors
which indicated the amount of power each section of the mecha was recieving.
"Damn." Heero grumbled under his breath. "That is unacceptable." He stalked to the make-shift
computer desk made from packaging crates and gave the screen a hard glare. "This," he poked to a
large red-colored area, "...is wired wrong. I'll fix it."
"Sorry--"
"It's all right." Heero attempted to smile, but his lips would not move. They were frozen in the
same stoic, grimacing face he always wore. As much as Heero wished to be more "human", his
attempts were failing. How could he change himself; how could he forget his past? He was a
trained murder and assassin. Unlike a computer program, he could not delete his past from his
memory. He envied the simple existance of machines. They worked without thought or care for
anything. They just do as they are told. In a way, Heero felt a kinship with machines, except
he was alive, though only because he was breathing.
"The other Gundams should be repaired by tonight. Duo saw to it himself that the proper parts
were ordered from his sweeper connections... Can we trust them, you think?" Quatre blinked.
"We know the sweepers can get the parts we need. Gundams are weapons. Weapons are made by
men who do not want peace. Men who don't want peace would do anything to keep making weapons.
To keep making weapons, there must be war. Since Gundams can win the war, the weapon makers
will do everything to stop the Gundams, including sabotage. We're all part of one big,
neverending cycle of cat-and-mouse." Heero said in his usual detached, soft voice. "We've
become the war." Quatre nodded although he wasn't sure he understood Heero's burdened,
dark brooding. Quatre shuddered at the mention of war and of the thought it might not ever end.
"Take the data printout to Milliardo, I will see him as soon as I can." Heero nodded once
then flipped down his protective welding visor. Hot orange and white sparks shot into the air
like crackling pollen as the intense heat of the welding torch met cold metal plating.
Obediently, Quatre neatly folded the perferated computer paper and walked briskly to
his meething.
Heero needed time alone, away from people. He found other people's emotions were as
tanglesome as spiderwebs. If he could function without emotion, why could they not?
The torch swayed in his hand as he attempted to convince himself he had no emotions.
He had hate...anger...blood lust...and probably a great amount of evil and insanity in him as
well. None of those bothered him, they were all he had known for most of the 21 years of his
life. But the small, budding emotion rising from the dirt of his darkness scared him. It
refused to die, Heero could not kill it; he could only ignore it. Love cannot be conquered
once it has even the slightest holding place. Love? He squeezed his eyes shut until his face
ached painfully. Weakness...
***
Relena strolled along the front walkway of the Peacecraft Mansion with her head held
high. Her prim golden hair was slightly mused from the breeze and her cheeks were flushed
a pretty pink. She felt wonderful, did her eyes sparkle as much as she thought they were?
"Morning, Ms. Relena." The two guards at the front enterance chorused in unison.
Relena beamed as one swiftly moved to open one of the double doors for her.
"Thank you very much, gentlemen." Her smile only grew wider. Who knew happiness was so
contagious? It was as if her blood had suddenly been replaced with thousands of shining
bubbles, like champagne. Her heart hiccuped and she felt almost giddy with the world.
She walked quickly through the hallways and echoing cooridors of the Mansion, she flew
to her office and burst into the room. . . And collided face-first into someone.
She jumped at the surprise, unable to control her body's wild reflex to the shock.
"Miss Relena! Are you all right?" The elegantly tailored 17 year-old billionaire
Quatre Raberba Winner whispered in a concerned voice as he placed a steadying hand on her
arm. The forehead of his angelic face was wrinkled in worry.
"Oh...yes. I'm fine! I really should watch where I'm going!" Relena laughed. She
brushed the crisp shoulder of his designer midnight-blue suit with her hand in a motherly
way. "Were you looking for me?"
"No, Miss Relena. Your brother and I met to discuss... business." Quatre blushed then
squared his shoulders. "Excuse me, but I must be getting back to work." He grinned in apology.
"Of course. Sorry for the hold up." Relena returned. "Good bye, I'll see you
tonight at the peace conference."
"Yes, farewell Miss Relena." Quatre tilted his head in a gentlemen's gesture of departing.
Relena wove past several desks of her assistants. All seven secretaries were typing or filing
paper work. In a ripple effect of motion, they waved hello and said hi as Relena went by.
All of the windows in her personal office were open, making the gauzy white curtains curl in the
breeze like ghosts reaching out into oblivion. "What...?" Placed directly in the center of
her desk like a wolf sitting amongst a flock of grazing sheep was a tall crystal vase brimmingly
filled with beautiful blood red roses. Relena blinked, but the vase did not disappear.
Who sent the roses? Why? Perhaps it was just a thank you gift from one of the colonial
ambassadors, or only a present from a member of the United Earth Alliance? Curious, Relena
approached the flowers as if they would run away if she moved too fast. A lone white
card was almost hidden in the canopy of crimson blooms. She took great care in coaxing open
its envelope. In plain yet fancy cursive lettering was handwriten:
"The evening is ours, my dear Relena"
She felt blood rush to her cheeks although a wave of coldness chilled her body. My
dear Relena...Heero?! No, he wouldn't send flowers, would he? The remark was enigmatic and
cryptic. It was either written by someone close to her, or a penned by a distance admirer.
Admirer? She tossed the small card and envelope onto the desktop and picked up the phone.
"Hello? Milliardo? I was wondering if you know anything about the floral delivery
made to my office? Yes, *that* boquet of roses... Oh, so no one knows who they are from?"
Disappoinment lowered her voice. "No, I don't have a boyfriend! Not even a secret one.
Ugh, serves me right for calling you in the first place. See you at dinner!" Relena sighed,
resting the phone in its craddle. "Go away." She snorted to herself as she carefully picked
up the vase and set it gently on the floor beside the desk. There was paperwork to be
done and a silly bunch of flowers was not going to distract her attention. Her manicured
fingernails tapped an irritated banter on the desktop. "Damn it..." Relena sighed, allowing her
face to fall into her hands. She massaged her temples to help ease the slight ache creeping to
her head.
***
"Kitty! Where ya been, buddy?!" Duo shouted across the hangar. Wufei
cringed as the high-pitched greeting echoed obnoxioiusly in the open space as well as in
his own ears..A flash of slight panic brightened Quatre's face and he stepped backward.
He felt as ambushed as he looked. "Business." The young man shrugged nonchalantly.
Wufei cast a smug, haughty smirk at Duo. "Mainly to discuss tonight's conference." He
explained vaguely.
"Ooo, aren't you special!" Duo cooed and chuckled. "I can't wait! But whose idea was
it to put the Deathscythe and the Heavy Arms outside the mansion for the conference???
I mean, nothing says "Hey, welcome y'all peace lovin' folks!" more than four tons of
butt-whooping metal on the lawn! It's Gundams on parade!" His braid flipped freely
in the air like the tailfin of a fish writhing out of water.
"General Milliardo prefers to use Gundams as protection rather than a showpiece of power.
It is a delicate matter, Duo, and probably makes us hypocrites for having Gundams right outside
the walls where peace-finding discussions are taking place... It is the only way to ensure
everyone's safety, though the pacifists do not agree with weapons, they do value their lives."
A voice as soft as a feather brushing against draping satin informed. "That is why the
Deathscythe and the Heavy Arms will be on guard outside, and is the reason why the Shenlong, Wing,
and Sandrock will be on stand by..." Trowa Barton replied bluntly.
"Well, the Gundies are in tip-top working order. I used my "connections" to get ahold of
the best salvage parts available... Tamper free, guaranteed!" Duo winked proudly. "You can't
trust real businessmen as far as you can grow 'em...or however that phrase goes."
Duo tugged a long section of his bangs and tilted his head sheepishly. Black grease from his
hand left a smudge on the side of his face.
"You filthy barn animal. Don't you ever bathe? Or would soap burn your flesh?"
Wufei grimaced in disdain. Whereas Duo was covered in blackish grime and grease, Wufei's
silk outfit was so white it practically glowed under the phlorescant lighting.
"Oh, Wuuuu." Duo batted his eyelashes and yodeled in a girlish voice. He flexed his
smudged fingers warningly like a tiger preparing to pounce on it's prey. He crept closer to
Wufei, whose stern facade took on a look of scared panic.
"Maxwell! You weird little creep! Do not touch me! I will be forced to break your turkey
neck." Wufei jumped into a defensive martial arts stance.
"Ohhh yeah, you're gonna beat me down with the 'whooping crane'. Riiiiight." Duo
comically mocked Wufei's stance. "Wuuuuu!" He shouted wildly before running full speed toward
a wide-eyed Wufei. Quatre dropped his shoulders; Trowa raised his eyebrows.
"Do we have reasons to worry? Otherwise, the Gundams could 'rouse paranoia and
tension." Trowa, ignoring the high-pitched shrieks and hoarse curses behind him,
bent his head and whispered to Quatre.
"Milliardo is worried more about secuirty than Relena is, Trowa. It has only been 5 days
since the last attempt was made to end Relena's life. We can't be sure, but questions have
surfaced about whether or not the latest attempt is connected to the conference.
Heero and myself will watch over Relena, and will stay close to her. She refuses to have
Milliardo's hired bodyguards following her around, they're too inconspicuous for her liking."
Quatre explained with a slight shrug.
"It's understandable..." Trowa nodded and turned his head away.
"Who knew such an excellent Gundam pilot could also be the world's biggest goof?"
Quatre's laugh could have been either amused or a shy attempt to hide his disapproval. Trowa
and Quatre watched as Duo chased Wufei like the Boogeyman attempting to snatch a small child.
Who knew Wufei could run so fast?
"Hail hail protectors of the world..." Trowa muttered in dry, mocking humor.
***
The delicate gold chain slipped through her fingers in a ripple of smooth, water-like
motion. The dangling heart locket swung under her hand in a gently languid rhythm. The locket
Heero bought for her in Switzerland... Relena dared not wear the lovely piece of jewelry, she
was almost afraid of it and of what it meant to her. Why did he buy it in the first place?
As a gift, or as an alibi to not leave her side? He had been suspiciously protectice and watchful
of her in Switzerland, considering his damning past attempts at assassination. What changed
between the two of them--the pacifist and the pilot? When suddenly he seemed to be her protector
rather than her foe. Unlike the other Gundam pilots, Heero's loyalty belonged to Earth, not
to a person or a military organization. He was wild. If attempts were made to
force him to do anything against his will, he would bare his teeth and fight for his freedom.
However, if he chose to come willing, he would defend to the death.
"All in the name of peace..." Relena murmured, closing her eyes for a brief moment.
As if in a trance, she stared as the small heart quivered to and fro as if it fighting for
its own freedom. Relena placed the necklace inside a velvet-lined case and quickly closed the
lid. It snapped at her; it bit at her fingers. She barely noticed...Without seeing, she
glanced at her reflection in the wide vanity mirror. Her features were a blur of color
golden blond hair, magnolia-fair face, violet layers of gossamer material which swirled in
her daydreaming sapphire eyes. Diligently, Relena stood from her seat at the mirror and draped
a scarlet-and-white ribbon sash across her shoulder. The wide band stigmatized her position as
an important world leader, due to public relations, she was expected to wear her importance at
every attended social event.She slowly snaked her hands into elbow-length white gloves,
then pinched the backs of her pearl earrings. In her own way, Relena wore battle armor.
Her 'fighting skills' were her keen mind, persuasive words, and stubborn determination.
She could face anything now.
***
Dark, glossy bangs fell across Heero's cheek, attractively hiding half of his cool, compsed
profile. His haunted indigo eyes locked on the intricate piece of metal weighing down his
hand. It was one of three handguns he wore; two at his side and one on his leg. The vertical
length and crisp lines of his matte black tuxedo hid any trace of the weapons hidden beneath
the material. He wanted to blend in with the crowd, to be overlooked. Impossible. The air
around him seemed to hum at a frequency so high, it was a palpable force which could be felt
as a tingle against the skin. His long, tapered fingers deftly adjusted the microphone coiled
around his ear. The device was a nearly-invisible transmitter and receiver, it was lost in the
thickness of his hair.
"Oh Heero! I'm such a lucky girl! With you at my side *all night long*..." The
intimiate giggle caused a muscle in Heero's eyelid to twitch. His lips pursed into a gruesome
white line. Almost too swift to see, Heero slung the gun by the trigger loop around his finger.
Duo's eyes crossed as he oogled the hollow barrel pushing into his forehead. The 4 other Gundam
pilots in the room held their breath anxiously.
"I doubt you have the time." Heero smirked darkly. "One more joke about the
conference, Duo... One more. Go ahead, make it a good one because it will be engraved on your
tombstone." Heero's arm did not sway.
"Geez, I try to tease you and I get a gun pulled on me!" Duo choked in dramatic
offense. "You're only embarrassed because I know you love--" the ominous click of the safety
lock changed Duo's choice of words, "--being a grouch." He laughed in embarassment. Using
his a pointer finger, he nudged the gun's aim from his face. "No harm done, Heero.
Your secret's safe with me."
"Good." Heero replied, reholstering his gun. "Quatre and I will keep in communication
with Wufei, the Deathscythe, and the Heavy Arms at all times. Do not close the channel for
*any* reason, understood?"
"Yes." Four young men replied in unison. The secluded, dimly lit library
was located deep in the endless corridors of the mansion. The small room was not neglected;
it was lonely and rarely used. The ancient-looking books which lined the floor-to-celing
shelves were tombs of knowledge awaiting their day of discovery. Sympathetically, Trowa
reached out his hand and tenderly stroked the aged ridges puckered along the leather
bound spine of a unnamed, unmarked book. Like a blind man beholding brail, Trowa read the
energy of the book. Its history--both as cherished, scholarly text and as a forgotten,
outdated reference brought a slight flicker of a smile to his lips.
"Trowa--" Quatre enquired, his brow frowned in concern. "Are you--".
"Just getting something to read." Trowa's finger hooked the book from the shelf;
Quatre was not fooled. The young Arab and the acrobat were close, their friendship resembled
a united brotherhood. Quatre was extremely empathetic to other people's emotions; whereas,
Trowa was hyper-sensitive to the environment and his surroundings. Both pilots emotions and
sensations were felt more intensely than the emotions of regular people. In one another
they found a belonging, a state of acceptance which needed no words. "It seemed lonely."
"Well, food's gonna keep *me* company, considering I'm missing out on the
party." Duo pouted. Heero cast a murderous glare at Duo then turned his attention to
buttoning the top button of his coal black dress shirt and tightening the knot of
the matching tie around his neck.
"I hope you choke, Maxwell." Wufei simpered sweetly. Duo made sure Heero was
not watching, then made a wrinkled face and stuck out his tongue.
"Show time, fellows." Heero lisened to the device planted in his ear; he
was following a voice no one else could hear. "Be sure to turn your wire on,
Quatre, and the rest of you know what to do."
***
"In conclusion, I would like to express my heart-felt gratitude to every
person present this evening. I am not responsible for the astounding progress blazing
forth for peace. . ." Relena paused, allowing a murmur to ripple through the crowd of the
world's 300 most important governing officials and political figures. Several shouts of
disagreement rang out, but she calmly allowed them to pass. "It is you, the brave leaders
of the world, who have carried my message...Who have turned my message into campaigns.
And it is you," she spoke directly into one of the many dinosaur-like cameras televising
the conference, "the citizens of Earth and the Colonies who have turned those campains
into lifestyles. For this I applaud you and give you my sincerest... most respect-filled...
complements and thanks." From her standing position alone on the stage, Relena stepped
away from the ivory-colored speaking podium and was greeted by a roar of applause and
an overwhelmingly emotional stading ovation. Bright white flashes exploded from
reporters' cameras in a blinding, supernova of light. Gracefully, she smiled and glided from
the stage to Quatre's arm.
"Truly magnificent, Miss Relena." He commented sincerely.
"Thank you." She replied. A shiver tickled her spine as Heero fell into step
behind them. The guests remained standing until Relena and her escorts were seated
at the prestigious table of honor. Milliardo and Lucrezia Noin were two of the familiar
figures at the table applauding lightly. Milliardo privately raised a goblet of red wine in
a silent toast to Relena and winked. Noin nodded proudly. A rainfall of praises bantered in
Relena's ears.
"Spectacular!"
"Wonderful!"
"Bravo!"
Relena politely said her thank-yous. From her seat at the head of
the long, rectangular banquet table she surveyed the gleaming silverware, and
the twinlking crystal goblets resting on the ivory lace tablecloth. The persons seated at
each place setting sparkled also. The men wore tailored tuxedos of either black or
midnight blue color. The women wore gowns in various styles and colors. Flaunting their sex,
they adorned their wrists and necks in winking gems and dangling gold. All of the women,
Relena noted, except Lucrezia Noin. The tall, lithe 27 year old liutenant wore a simple
gown of classic black. Her short ebony hair was slicked back from her pale oval face. The
only jewelry she wore was a small pair of dangling rhinestone earrings which hung sylishly
from her bare earlobes. Lucrezia wore a facade of passive indifference, it was her only
defense against the uncomfortable situation she was taking part in. Formal ocassions were not
'her scene'. Relena was grateful for Milliardo's soothing presence and how her brother
shielded Noin's uneasiness by calling unwanted attention away from her.
Unaware of the wide smile on her face, Relena's eyes wandered to the man seated on her
left side. Heero Yuy. His fingers were curled around a crystal goblet, idly tapping the crystal. Did he send her the roses? Did he write the mysterious note?
Anyone else's eyes would have seen Herro murmuring softly to himself; however, Relena knew
he was checking in with the other pilots and security officers. Afraid Heero might catch her
watching him, Relena sipped icewater from the short glass next to her own goblet of red wine.
***
"Ah, nothing like catered..." Duo sighed jadedly, stabbing his fork mercilessly
into the dry piece of pseudo-chicken wallowing in a sesspool of brown gravy.
"We're out here eating this...whatever it is... while they're in there feasting! I heard
there was going to be garlic-and-butter chicken, dainty little white potatoes,
luscious roasted beef, and oh, a sinfully tempting 4 layer forest cake." A choked
sob escaped from Duo's lips. The large screen infront of him, usually used
for visuals when in combat, was split into 4 sections. Pictured in the third and fourth
blocks were the video feeds from Wufei and Trowa's Gundam cockpits. Trowa smiled
secretively and picked at his own microwaveable dinner. Wufei, suspiciously half turned
from his screen, thought no one could see him nibbling on a large piece of tender roasted
beef or delicate little white potatoes.
"We get whatever is left over, Maxwell. Your sacrifice will be worth the
pain." Wufei replied sagely.
'Hey! Wufei! That's... YOU PIG! You took food from the kitchen intended for the
guests and you have the NERVE to lecture about sacrifice? HYPOCRITE!" Duo cried,
dramatically standing from his chair to point accusingly at Wufei.
"Enjoying the food, boys?" A green jagged line moved in a wave across the
first block of the screen as Heero's voice came over the communication channel.
"Heero, old fellow! Nice of you to join our party." Duo cried in a fake
British accent.
"Status report." Heero deadpanned.
"Chillin like a villian...Eating to take a beating...Everything is A-okay here.
Except for the fact Wu's a food thief." Duo yawned.
"Radar shows the skies are clear and friendly." Trowa announced, straightening
in his chair to read the small, blinking screen on the wide control panel.
"No sign of unwanted visitors here either." Wufei added, slouching cooly.
"The only problem security had was when a slight scuffle broke out amongst of group
of press photographers; they were fighting over the perfect spot to shoot approaching
guests...with their cameras of course..." Wufei snickered. "Other than that minior
incident, it's clear here."
"Copy. Out." Heero casually tapped his ear to turn off his transmitter.
His dark eyes settled upon Relena for the briefest of seconds. Animatedly, she spoke to
Quatre while gesturing poisedly with her hands.
"...Yes, dealing with ... negotiating ... foreign policy..." Heero caught
broken phrases of her sentence. It amazed him how polished and intelligent she was,
for being only 19 years old. At the Peacecraft Mansion, one year of time was equal
to ten years, or so it felt. Relena and himself were alike in the fact that they
both were forced to grow up at a young age, for different reasons. He had never
known a childhood. The earliest memory he could recollect was sitting
quietly on a cold, white tile floor. To his mind's eye, the background swirled
and blended into a blurred virgin white. His tiny hands craddled a
heavy piece of forged, black metal, his very own toy. Elfin fingers explored the
grooves and indented lines of the toy. Instinctively Heero knew the object
he held inflicted pain and caused harm. The hushed, gentle whispers of the adults
who wore white coats and roamed the facility like lost spirits told him the toy
was special, it even had a name. They called it a gun...
Heero's jaw squared in rebellion of the memory. He did not care about or
dwell the past... His body was an empty vessel--dead and hollow to emotions.
He could not decide who he wanted to be. A normal person or the perfect soldier?
His mind taunted him. Even if he wanted to be normal, he did not know how.
The perfect soldier was not so perfect after all. The grand dining hall
hummed with life. Heero's sensitive ear tuned in to the mellow sway of feminine
laughter, the indignant crisp snort of a man, and the crisp click of metal
meeting metal. Metal. Gun. Noise. Commotion. Stress... His body wracked a spasm which he could
not control. His heartbeat hammered through his temples and he felt as if he was drowning.
Heero opened his mouth to silently gasp air.
"Heero..." Relena noticed Heero's sudden shake and turned in her chair to
face him. Without thinking, her hand covered his clenched fist. His hand eased into
a flat stretch on the table top as her touch drained the anxiety from his body.
"Dinner is being served." Under the siren's spell, Heero's chin lifted and his
liquid cobalt eyes met Relena's azure eyes so directly and openly, Relena felt
defenseless.
"Thank you, Relena." Came the velvet response. Relena nodded, removed her hand,
and watched the mass of waiters and waitresses moving in curt lines through the
dining hall. Each uniformed server carried a gleaming silver tray of food on fancy
plates.
"I'm starving!" Milliardo whistled woofishly, his eyebrows quirked
mischeiviously as he spoke. Several people at the table chuckled and laughed while their
meals were set in front of them. "Relena is the guest of honor." The white-platinum
haired General grinned to Noin. She blushed and pursed her lips. "I propose madam
Vice Minister be the first to take a bite." He called teasingly to his sister.
"If you insist, Milliardo." Relena laughed. She unfolded her napkin and
smoothed the white cloth across the puff of lavender gown at her lap. Deft gloved
fingers grasped a slim, curved silver fork while the other hand steadied the silver
knife to cut into the tender roasted beef on her plate. The meat was cooked expertly
and practically melted beneath her utensils. She lifted her fork slowly to her
lips, but Heero snared her wrist in a grip so cruel, Relena's
fingers opened like a blossoming lily. The fork clattered onto the table in a shrill
tumble.
"Don't eat!" He whispered harshly. "DON'T EAT!" Heero knocked back his seat and
shouted. "The food is poisoned! DON'T EAT!". A startled wave of panic and disbelief
rose from the crowd. Several servers near Relena moved to draw weapons from their
jackets, though only Heero was quick enough to see it coming. In a arc of movement,
he dragged Relena from her seat. His arm wrapped protectively around her waist and held
her firmly against his body as he fired three shots. The guests screamed and
shouted anxiously as the three intruders fell to the ground, severly injured but
Heero spared their lives for Relena's sake. Relena clung to Heero for support; she
buried her face in the solid, warm comfort of his body.
"Heero...How...Thank you..." Her tongue was made of iron. Slightly embarrassed
to realize she still clung to him, Relena moved to pulled away, but Heero's arm kept her
close.
"He's dead! He's dead! He just fell over. Wham! He's dead!" Duo laughed
hysterically. "Cake today, corpse tomorrow...!" A demonic grin twisted his
face gruesomely. "He's just..." His head tilted backward and a deep, unstoppable rush of
cackles clawed from his lungs. "Dead! The darkness has decended..."
"Oh God..." Quatre winced in shocked acceptance. "Wufei-" The young blond
plugged his finger into his ear. It was nearly impossible to hear the hysterical conversation
coming through the communication channel. Great flicks and snaps of static mixed within
mangled words and shouts. The only cause for the scrambling would be cloudy atmospheric
conditions, or . . .
"Trowa! Check your radar!" Duo's voice hurtled across the channel then faded
to static.
"Duo! Trowa!" Quatre's scream vibrated like sandpaper along his vocal chords. Quatre's
young body shook in fear. "Something is wrong. Wufei was poisoned and I
believe we are under attack, or will be under attack momentarily."
"Let's move!" Milliardo shouted his order. Instantly the team of mobile suit pilots
seated several tables away jumped to attention.
"Come on, Quatre." Heero scooped Relena from her feet and into the craddle
of his arms. The rhythmic rocking of Heero's running gait jostled her, but she
held herself close to his chest and closed her eyes to focus on taking breaths.
"When we get to the hangar, check Wufei.." Heero turned his head to Quatre.
The 17 year old Winner heir nodded solemnly, the expensive Italian leather shoes
on his feet felt as if they were made of granite. The hangar welcomed them with an
ominous silence. Quatre dashed to the Shenlong while Heero carried Relena
into the small room used as a make-shift office. He gently yet quickly set her down and
touched her shoulders.
"Wait here and hide. You *will* be safe." He awkwardly bent forward; he
kissed her forehead then prowled from the office. The door locked behind him.
"Heero!" Relena cried, pressing her hands against the door. Hiding her
away made sense, yet she was angered at being treated no different than a child.
The office had a large plate window looking out into the hangar. Relena helplessly
watched Heero and Quatre converse. She could not hear their conversation, nor did
she know how to read lips. Lovingly, she pressed her fingertips against the glass
plane and whispered a prayer for both men. Relena sat on the floor beneath the
large desk in the small office so anyone looking through the window could not see her.
She hugged her knees to her chest, and waited.
"He's not dead! He's--" A light of hope illuminated Quatre's features.
"Quatre! Heero!" Milliardo's voice buzzed in both Gundam pilots ears,
stopping them in their tracks.
"What?" Heero asked.
"The mobile suits are sabotauged, we think some of the parts are tainted.
And I do not simply mean bad parts, I mean these machines were on a shut-down timer.
For exactly...two minutes ago. This is big league material." The General replied gruffly.
"Where did the parts come--" Quatre wondered.
"Duo." Heero and Millio spoke in unison.
"Which means the Gundams are also tampered with. All of them, except..." The perfect
soldier's voice trailed off.
***
"Can anyone hear me?! This is Heavy Arms... Bogeys detected! Maxwell, be still!
Don't even think about going crazy on me now." Trowa said in a steeled voice.
The universe pulled at him from every side and angle, yet he was trapped in one
place. "Can you handle this?"
"Yes, I will kill every one of those bastards!" Duo raged, slamming his
fist down onto the control panel. "They're going straight to hell and I's driving the
tour bus! Shinigami will have their very souls!!!" Duo strapped himself into his
chair, smacked on his pilot helmet, then callously punched the ignition button.
Electricity flowed through the cold body of the Gundam, Duo felt the power
circulate in his own body as well. The Deathscythe's engine purred; Duo's heart
pounded. His damp, clammy hands gripped the controls so hard, the rigid bones of his
knuckles pushed tensely against his skin. He urged the Gundam skyward--toward the
enemy and to his destiny. The Angel of Death took flight.
"I'm right behind you, Duo." Trowa stated calmly. The Heavy Arms became skybound
and sailed up to the evening night. Thousands of white, sparkling stars filled Trowa's
eyes as he beheld the heavens. He suddenly felt as if the universe was a dome placed over
his body, he was part of it because it was part of him. Seven stars shone the brightest
and moved closer at an amazingly speed. The objects were mobile suits descending to
do combat against Duo and Trowa. The DOLLS were invaders, if the Gundam pilots did not
destroy the enemy crafts, the lives of the guests would be endangered.
Duo laughed a husky chuckle to himself.
***
"How long will it take to fix the suits?" Noin questioned the mechanic,
unaware of how difficult it was for the younger male pilots and officers not to
oogle at the site of their beautiful commanding officer in an evening gown.
"Um...we aren't sure yet." The man stuttered nervously.
"He's out of his mind!" Milliardo blared, startling several mechanics nearby in
the Mobile Suit garage.
"Sir?"
"No, not you. Dismissed!" He crisply sent the man away. "This is insanity..."
His face fell into his white gloved hands. "Not only are the Suits paralyzed, Noin,
but the Gundams have tainted parts, too. We're defenseless..."
"General, you know the Deathscythe and the Heavy Arms reported taking
off three minutes ago!" Liutenant Noin gasped. "The air force is sending planes out.
It will take a half hour for them to reach us."
"Damn..." The word came in a rush of exhaled air. "That is the least of our
problems. Heero is trying to save Trowa and Duo..."
"How?! The Wing--"
"He's not taking the Wing, Noin. For the last 6 months, a new Gundam has been
worked upon and built, somwehat. However," He emphasized his words to silence Noin's shock,
"The damned thing is barely worthy of a junkyard than for a spaceflight. The weapons system
was installed only four days ago, it has not even been tested yet! But if anyone can
pull this off, it is Heero Yuy..."
***
"Eat scythe, BASTARDS!!!" Duo cackled joyously at the 3 DOLLS before him; he
stabbed his finger onto the Deathscythe's weapons arming button. Nothing happened.
The green energy beam which usually formed the beautiful weapon of destruction was not
generated, nor did an alarm sound to warn Duo of any malfunctions... "What the hell!
NO!" Duo sobbed, tears streamed further down his feverish cheeks. "No! Damn it, NO!"
He pounded the control panel in agony. Wufei was dead! Revenge must be served!
"Maxwell, what's wrong!?" Trowa shouted, watching Duo's emotional breakdown from his
visuals screen. . The DOLLS fired four small bursts of plasma at the Deathscythe, each shot
hit its mark, undefended.
"My scythe won't work! My beautiful scythe..." Duo seemed to sigh like a small child, like
an exhausted child. He was useless now, Trowa cringed.
"I have your back!" Trowa assured and began to pilot into an attack position. He quickly
flipped the weapons arming switch which would bring the HeavyArms arsenal of heavy-duty fire
power to life. Nothing happened. The cannons did not come out from their restful hybernation
beneath the HeavyArms' armor. Nausea and shock gripped Trowa. It was not fair! It was not
reality! "Damn! Why won't our weapons WORK?! Someone's been toying with us!" He
grimaced, closing his eyes and expelling a composed breath. "Wait!" His head snapped upward as
a hopeful thought popped into his mind. "My blade!". Anxiously, Trowa shuddered in relief as
the three-foot long Arabian blade erupted from the HeavyArms' right forearm. It was the only
weapon which worked, and it was the only weapon available. The Deathscythe took the four
plasma shots as eaily as water rolling from a duck's back. Trowa was enraged. How unfair it
was to be attacked when they had no weapons except for a primitive blade!!! As the next DOLL
moved to assault Duo, Trowa moved quickly and sliced off the enemy's gun arm. He then
cut the DOLL in half lengthwise. If the pilot was not dead from the blade, he surely died from
the explosion which ensued as the mecha crackled with electricity and burst into a
ball of bright energy. A part of Trowa's heart twisted painfully, but he numbed himself to
courageously face the remaining DOLLS.
***
"I christen thee the... ... ... Quicksilver." Heero tapped a plastic soda
bottle against a silver, unpainted limb of the Gundam. Supersticiously, Quatre
insisted the Gundam, as every other vessel, be named before the first flight.
Lacking a champagne bottle to break against the Gundam, Heero reluctantly used
an empty bottle dug from a near by trashcan. "This is a good sign." He quirked as
he tossed the bottle over his shoulder and opened a hatch in the back of the
leg which lead to the cockpit. Skillfully his fingers flipped on every necessary
switch and stabbed every important button. "She's running at an overall 65%. H'mm,
I like the odds. They're almost against me." Heero chuckled lightly to himself.
The Quicksilver reminded Quatre of the human skeleton found in an anatomy class.
Just as with the classroom aid, the veins, arteries, and vital organs of the Gundam's body
were exposed in a tangle of intertwining wires of all colors. Only one arm and half of a leg
were metal-plated, providing pathetic protection against any enemy attack. Quatre agreed with
Heero's name choice for the Gundam. The Quick Silver was entirely metallic because the dull
silver Gundanium had not been covered with decorative paint. "Godspeed, Heero." Quatre
said softly.
"Hn." Heero grunted as the Quicksilver rattled and shook violently against turblunace in
the atmosphere. Old candy wrappers, styrofoam coffe cups, and crumpled napkins rained upon
him from an overhead cabinet. Along with the litter, a few lose wires, bolts, and pieces of
unidentifiable mechanical parts assailed him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Heero hoped
the pieces falling were not vital parts of the Gundam. He swated at the litter in annoyance,
his arm swept the mess from the half-blinking control panel. The visuals screen occasionally
flickered and crackled with snow as if to tease him and test his patience. Luckily,
Duo and Trowa were not extremely high from the ground, Heero did not believe the Quicksilver
would survive a trip into the depths of outerspace. He sucked in a shocked gasp of air at
the scene playing on his monitor. The Deathscythe shivered at the onslaught of plamsa shots
being absorbed into its body as the HeavyArms valiantly attempted to defend the other
Gundam though both were in trouble. Six DOLLS circled around the pair like vultures
awaiting the death of their dying prey.
"What the... ....!?" Trowa stammered, catching sight of the mangled mess of the
Quicksilver.
"Don't ask." Heero replied bluntly, smiling wryly to Trowa's video feedback. Deftly,
he readied the cumbersome plasma cannon attached to the Quicksilver's left arm. "Just get
out of here, now! Your Gundams are useless here. "GO!" A glow of purple plasma grew in an orb at
the cannon's barrel. Heero fired the blast, sending the Quicksilver into a shaking spasm as if
it had been struck. His fingers dug into the arms of the pilotchair. Damn! The wretched Gundam
could only fire a few more shots before it would rattle apart.
Luckily, Heero's first shot made impact and sent a DOLL's fried carcass falling to the
earth below. Five more were left... The Quicksilver moved obediently to Heero's superior
piloting, it repsonded to every touch and urging like a polished machine. He fired another
plasma shot and took out another enemy. So far, so good. The Gundam rattled violently, but
Heero did not notice.It was all too easy, he was invincible! None of the other pilots in the
sky were as skilled as him! None could even be compared to him. Heero moved to fire another
shot, but would the Quicksilver last? His mind snagged. In that split second of indecision,
two DOLLS moved in and unleashed energy blasts at him. Heero's eyes grew wide as he saw death
approaching. He was afraid... A vision of Relena, smiling and comforting, was trapped behind
his eyes. She appeared so beautiful and calm...Smiling to himself, Heero pressed the cannon's
trigger button, just as a bright flare of exploding sparks and silver metal lit up the
nightsky...