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August - AC 206

Barcelona

The red umbrella shaded the patron from the midday sun, filtering out the heat and leaving only a soft warm glow on his dark olive skin. A soft breeze came across, caressing his messy chestnut hair, allowing the shade and sunlight to dance in his Prussian blue eyes. He sipped on a mango smoothie, while watching stoically as the other customers meandered forward in the line. He had been captured by the rays reflecting back at him from a woman's honey golden hair, and found himself watching the back of her passively, remembering the girl who had once loved him.

Relena Peacecraft Darlian had been a fair specimen of a girl; pretty, but not outstanding in a crowd. More importantly was who she was. The man mused over their relationship, how strongly she'd believed in him, and come to love him, over their short friendship. He had been trained up for that moment, in that year, and it was his destiny to die. But the girl wouldn't have it. She fought for his life, over and over, rescuing him, even from himself. He remembered the feeling he got in his chest, every time her voice said his name. How it immediately made him want to fight; to win; to live. He finally gave in, living for her, but not for her. He couldn't submit himself to her. To the feeling he had around her. He couldn't allow himself to love her.

Yes, love. He fought it at first. He didn't believe he was able. He didn't want to know how. But as life came, and he came to love, again, he learned the grace that was love. How easily he forgave mistakes, the way he and she forgave their disagreements. How surely he was ready to sacrifice himself for the other, the way he'd offered to do, just to keep her from crying. How truly loyal he was to the one he loved. It was all familiar because of her. What he had now was so much stronger than the puppy love of his childhood, but he'd come to know. Truly, Relena was his first love. And maybe, he loved her still. But he knew, he would never see her, again.

The former soldier released a small smile, looking at the tall blonde in the shop. Yes. Her hair was just like Relena's. But she was taller and her mature curves gave an intoxicating allure that Relena had lacked in her teenage years. The posture, though, was still strikingly strong; feminine and dominant at the same time. Just like her.

He sighed, shaking off the nostalgia that had overcome him. Any moment, now, the woman at the register would turn around with her order and find him staring at her. He'd give her the wrong idea for sure.

The man looked down at the newspaper in front of him, trying to take his mind off of the past, only to find Relena's beautiful face smiling back at him. VICE FOREIGN MINISTER DARLIAN, SINGLE AGAIN. He couldn't help but smile. Relena had been on and off with her boyfriend, Broderick Tullis, for almost two years, now. He tried not to pay attention to the roller coaster of their relationship as it made headlines, but he always felt a sense of victory when she called it off, again. Which she always did.

"Heero Yuy?" A shaky familiar voice called him from his musings.

Startled at the sound, he folded the paper shut, hiding his old admirer's face, as he stared sharply at the green picnic table below him.

Finally, he summoned all of his energy to observe the woman towering over him. His eyes shot to her thin, frail ankles, and climbed her tight, shapely caves. He nearly shivered as he saw the contours of her knees and the curve of her thighs. They were the finest legs he had seen in a long time. He reached the blushing grey of her skirt, following it up to a matching jacket. A light rose silk blouse hung half opened on her breasts, airing her cleavage in the heat of the beating sun. He swallowed back his hunger as he caught the gentle angles of her clavicle, then followed the lines of her tendons up her long neck to her soft jaw light, working over her beautiful face to her sea blue eyes. Golden hair was caught in the wind, dramatizing his realization.

The woman from the counter was Relena Peacecraft.

"Relena," he said in a dark voice. It was the only thing he could say. It had been nearly a decade since he left her sleeping by his bed in the hospital. He'd long since given up on the foolish idea of returning to her, with the changes his life had taken. And now she'd found him, again, more unexpectedly than ever.

He was initially intimidated by her narrow eyes. He feared she might start a confrontation. After all, his decision on how to leave ten years ago was less than friendly. It was certainly not the treatment a loyal acquaintance, like the former princess, deserved. He knew he'd only done it because of how safe he felt when he passed out in her arms, but now he understood how wrong he really was. His face remained unreadable, tucking his hands in his pockets in a defenseless stance, as he decided he deserved anything she was going to throw at him. Including large metal objects.

Finally, her studying peer melted into a friendly smile. "Heero," she said, again, sitting down in front of him. "What are you drinking?"

"Drinking?" His eyebrows were still knit, defensively.

"Drinking." She pointed at the large cold beverage in his hand.

"Oh," he said, embarrassed to be making a fool of himself. "Mango," he replied.

She nodded, still grinning from ear to ear.

"You?"

"Blueberry."

"Hn." He looked away. There was so much to be said, but somehow all they'd done was spit out each other's names in shock, then barely discussed drinks. He wished to the gods that there was rum available to throw in his, right now.

"How have you been?" The question sounded as awkward, falling off of her tongue as she probably felt saying it.

"Good," he replied. "Things have been—good."

Relena glided her tongue across her bottom lip before tucking it into her teeth. Her nerves were showing like neon signs. Her heart was pounding, just being near him, again. Relena, unlike Heero, had never questioned her feelings. She depended on him during that war. Her love for him gave her the strength to lead her people. Even now, ten years later, she was working for him.

"Oh, my God!" A small voice exclaimed. "You're RELENA PEACECRAFT!"

Relena turned her attention on the approaching boy. He was about seven years old, with tanned skin, messy brown hair and striking hazel eyes. The green on the outside bled inward toward a feline yellow near his pupils. Something about the feel of his stare, however, gave her a chill with its familiar strength.

Heero met the powerful eyes with his own challengingly cold stare, devoid of emotion.

"Well," she laughed, more at herself than him. "I haven't heard that name in a long time."

"Oh, yeah. Relena Darlian. My dad calls you 'Peacecraft'. He says it's your birth name."

Relena smiled blushing. "Well, that's true."

"Yeah, but my dad is kind of crazy. That's what everyone says, anyway."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure your father's not crazy."

The kid smirked, turning his attention to Heero.

"See, Dad? She doesn't think you're crazy."