Light streamed in from the window to Relena's right, taunting her with its warmth and playful rays.
It wasn't real sunlight, no, but it would do. At least the conference room window afforded her a nice view of the office building's skylit atrium.
However artificial, light was always a pleasant distraction.
It was then and there that she decided to walk. She let go of the pen she was uselessly clenching and unclenching (she'd wanted so badly to click the ballpoint down, over and over, but resisted) and turned her gaze back to her laptop. In the maybe thirty seconds she'd spent gazing outside, her inbox had filled, again.
Rather than checking one of her mobile devices for the time, Relena checked her left wrist, where her trusty gold-faced watch on the thin, worn black leather still kept the time, faithfully, after all these years. And it wasn't set to local time, anyway. She smiled and pushed her chair back from the table. A few heads snapped up when she did.
"Excuse me," she said softly to her colleagues, all entrenched in their paperwork. "I'll be right back." The group all dropped their eyes back on their work as Relena slipped out of the room.
How she wished to feel exhilarated as she exited the atrium, pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped outside. To feel the rush of fresh air, breathe in the scent of salt water or fallen leaves, even car exhaust. On the colonies, the air was stale and still. Just one giant airplane cabin.
When she was back on earth, Relena would relish in stepping off the shuttle, feeling icy wind slapping her skin. It was only October, but already the trees back home would have held their spectacular fall fashion show. She might have even missed the first snowfall.
Relena sighed, jamming her hands into her jacket pocket, although it wasn't necessary - it wasn't cold. Why did she miss the cold so much, anyway? Plenty of her friends back home told her, to this day, they would "kill" to get to go to space.
"Kill" wasn't exactly the best word choice to say to a pacifist diplomat, but she usually let it slide.
And anyway, she knew she shouldn't be complaining, even if it was only to herself. She had plenty to be thankful for, including the fact that her work allowed her to travel, even if it was tiring at times. And lonely.
As she walked aimlessly down the tree-lined street, Relena watched the people ambling passed her, each just going about their day happily. Freely. She still couldn't believe sixteen years had passed since the war ended. She was grateful every day for the peace that had been brokered, and she was working hard to keep things peaceful, and safe.
It dawned on her that while she was still young, she'd had a long career already - almost twenty years. This was evidenced by the fact that many of her colleagues were older than her but had less experience. To start her career during the Eve Wars was a real "baptism by fire," the press was fond of saying. But they were also fond of criticizing Relena's terraformation project, its overblown budget, and lack of real "direction." Sixteen years was far too long to - literally - get off the ground, they'd say. Even some influential members of ESUN tried to steer Relena toward other projects. She had declined the offer to chair the Sanc Kingdom's Community Garden Club, though. She was 32; it was hardly time to consider retirement. She could easily work another four decades, at least. It was politics, after all.
Despite her prolific career, Relena still faced what by all rights should have been outdated notions on what she should be doing now, "at her age." Another type of retirement entirely. When someone wasn't trying to pull the plug on her project and find something "less taxing" for her to work on, people were asking when she might "take a break" or settle down.
And no, no one ever asked the men she worked with when they might be getting married or having babies. Relena knew this because she would ask them, and they would laugh.
Years spent in the spotlight meant she was more than adept at dodging or reframing the question when it inevitably came up, however. Her favorite method was turning the tables on whoever was asking it, inquiring after their personal lives. No one ever seemed to expect that, and if they didn't get flustered and mutter something generic about their spouses - or exes - they'd usually take the hint and drop the subject.
But if someone insisted on probing deeper, asking why Relena hadn't found anyone "special" yet, or the dreaded "But don't you want children?" her reply was always the same: "We'll see."
Honestly, she would rather field questions on whether the Mars project would ever take off. She just wished she could make people understand how thorough the plans were and why they were taking so long, even though they were closer to launching than ever before. If NASA had been in charge, it probably would have taken another two decades, sending out rovers and bots. But they were nearly there; they just needed to secure more funding. And if the approvals came during the next budget cycle, they could launch next year.
The winds of change were coming, Relena thought. Even if she couldn't feel them right now.
She stood still for a moment, closing her eyes, and breathed in that stale, cabin air. It was better than nothing.
That's when she heard a whistle from behind her.
She turned her head and saw a red pickup driven by what appeared to be a lanky young man. He couldn't have been more than 22.
"Hey, lady!" he yelled out his window, grinning. Relena frowned slightly, taking in his casual attire: baseball cap turned sideways and a beat-up gray t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. This guy was actually approaching her. And people wondered why she hadn't found her "special someone" yet.
She immediately took a defensive stance, backing further up on the sidewalk and folding her arms across her chest. "Can I help you?" she asked. It was a fair question. Maybe this young man was looking for a municipal career center, or something.
"What's a gorgeous thing like you doing out here all by yourself?"
One of Relena's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she turned on her heel and resumed walking, although at a much brisker pace than before.
The man followed alongside in his truck, matching her speed.
"How 'bout a ride, beautiful?"
"No thank you." Relena picked up her pace. "I'd rather walk."
"In those shoes?" he laughed.
Relena looked down at her feet automatically. She was wearing sensible leather flats. This guy was obviously delusional.
"Thanks, but I'm good."
"You sure? Kinda dangerous for a girl as pretty as you to be all alone..."
Relena felt the hairs stand up on the back her neck. She'd learned words like that weren't usually friendly.
Despite ESUN's weapons ban - which she'd backed wholeheartedly - she kept a 9mm in her handbag. Relena reached inside and felt the familiar handle, carefully sliding her finger onto the trigger. Just in case.
"I'm fine, thank you," she insisted, continuing her stride. Part of her was slightly scared for her life; another part was concerned for this man's safety, and the ramifications - and inevitable PR nightmare - of gunning down him in public.
Unfortunately, he wasn't taking the hint.
"Listen, some buddies of mine are having a little party up the street," he drolled. "Just hop in and I'll take you. We could have a few drinks, get to know each other a little better…"
"I said 'no,'" Relena said sharply, gripping her concealed weapon. She glanced only briefly in the man's direction, mostly out of her peripheral to make sure he wasn't about to stop or exit his vehicle. "Now leave me alone."
That's when she saw another vehicle - a black SUV - trailing the pickup. With other traffic going around the slow-moving truck, it was likely one of two things: either ESUN had sent her a babysitter, or the guy did indeed have some buddies.
But this was a brand new, shiny, luxury SUV, so Relena quickly scrubbed the second option from her mind.
Before she had any more time to wonder, the driver's side window came whirring down. Relena had to smile when she spotted the familiar shock of dark hair.
The driver was wearing black sunglasses, but his gaze was fixed on her.
"Get in," Heero barked.
It was one order Relena didn't mind obeying.
She could hear a string of expletives from the truck driver as she climbed up into Heero's car and shut the door. The red pickup sped away, but Heero refrained from following suit. Instead he made a u-turn in the middle of the street, heading back in the direction of the government center.
"Heero." Relena glanced up at him in amusement. "As usual, your timing is impeccable." He only grunted in response.
"What brings you here?" she continued. "And don't tell me you were 'in the neighborhood.'"
"I wasn't. I went to the government center looking for you."
Relena's voice up went up a little. "You did?"
"Yeah, I went to your meeting. They said you left."
She frowned and smoothed her skirt. "I was taking a break."
"Most people just go to the vending machine."
"Most people can just go for a walk when they feel like it," Relena retorted.
"You're not most people." Heero glowered.
"...Which is why it's understandable that I don't like the vending machine." She folded her arms and leaned back against the car seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Heero smirk.
"Tell me what you're actually doing here," she pressed. "I know it's not to rescue me from random catcallers."
"No, I know you can handle yourself." In a fluid motion, Heero took one hand off the wheel, reached into Relena's purse and whipped out her handgun, giving it a spin before sliding it back into the bag. "Good girl," he approved.
In the past, comments like that would have made her blush. Now she just rolled her eyes. "Well, I do know a thing or two," she quipped. Heero just chuckled, so she nudged his elbow. "Just answer the question, please."
"I heard you were holding a public forum on the terraformation tonight…" He paused, glancing at Relena. "I thought things might get ugly."
Relena laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind seeing a little more passion around the project; everything's been dragging lately. We could really use some support."
"Well, I'm not so sure it's support that you're going to get right now," Heero murmured.
Relena smiled reassuringly. "That's what you're here for."
"Uh-huh." Heero turned into the government center's parking garage. "You know Duo says you would get more support if you wore lower-cut clothing on TV."
Relena's face flushed. "Yeah? Well, you can tell Duo to go you-know-what himself."
"You can tell him yourself." Heero pulled into a parking spot on the lower level.
"He's here?"
"Yup. When I told him where I was going he insisted on coming along. I tried to stop him, but you know Duo."
Ha! Relena wasn't entirely convinced that Duo and Heero weren't secretly a couple, but she kept it to herself, even though she had her suspicions. Duo had been - allegedly - happily married to Hilde for ten years, and they had an eight-year-old son.
"Trowa, too," Heero added.
"Well," Relena murmured as they exited the car. "This night just got a lot more interesting."