Found Again

Even from afar, there was something that could never be described that radiated from Relena. It was a strength, a vigour he couldn't put to words. It was what had convinced him so many years ago not to kill her.

Back then, she had been young, naive and inexperienced. The raw strength had always been there, but it had been unshaped, maybe even destructive at times. But now? He looked at her, and well, the world could not have put its hope on a better life. In the times that the world needed a symbol, what else could have been more perfect than this dove of peace?

Heero looked at the glass in his hand. He stared at the clear water within it, not noticing as time ruthlessly passed by. The barkeep said nothing, leaving him be aside from a few passing glances.

But it was her voice again that broke past him, pulling him out of his stupor. His eyes shot up, but it was only a video of her on the screen, replaying an interview with the Vice Minister. As he watched, he realized he didn't know what she was saying, but he couldn't stop looking at her.

"Hey, mister. All I ask is that you don't make a mess, okay?" The barkeep said, intruding his thoughts. Heero glanced down to his hand, realizing that the glass in his hand was no longer a glass, but rather a pile of glass. Opening his palm slowly, he watched his blood roll off the side of his hand, mesmerized as pieces of glass clattered almost inaudibly onto the counter.

After the incident with Mariemaia, Relena's movements had become non-stop. There was ferocity in her that was not quelled. Peace. Peace was her mission. Heero always kept a general idea of where she was, what colony she was visiting, of when she was at her home on Earth, however infrequent. But he kept an even closer eye on darker movements, those shadows that followed her.

He had kept his vow. He had not killed ever again. But Relena was careless.

She always had tunnel vision.

Without a word to the barkeep, Heero stretched out from his stool, and swiftly placed his good hand on the counter again, leaving behind enough money to cover his damage.

Stepping outside, he was greeted by a gray colony sky, with heavy raindrops hitting his face. The street was quiet, as people tended to avoid being outside on the days of planned heavy rainfall. But those that did venture outside stared at him puzzlingly from underneath the cover of their umbrellas, this young man who was soaked to the bone. He had never minded the rain.

She was, in many ways, his opposite. But as his former allies had mentioned more times than he cared to admit, they probably shared more qualities than not. Not that he would ever place himself on her level. He was but a mere foot soldier. Yes, he did the dirty work that needed to be done, but he was never anything more than a knowing pawn. Relena, on the other hand... she changed the world.

Not that she hadn't made mistakes. They had still been only children.

Heero shrugged, trying to force his mind to change the direction his thoughts were going. He always did best living in the now. So where was he going? It was not time yet for his next shuttle flight and he had no specific tasks to do in this quiet colony.

The rain did not stop, of course.

It was with no warning of any sort that when he dropped his gaze and turned around to head in no real direction, he was faced with an equally soaked figure. There she stood, hands clasped together in front of her, looking terrible as the rain ruined her clothes, her hair and the minimal make up that she usually wore.

But her eyes were fierce. They took hold of his like no other's could and the two stared each other down. When had it been last that they had really looked at each other? Not as fleeting glances stolen from shadows? But as two people who shared more together than many could ever possibly understand?

They had never needed many words. Even now, both masters of the public mask, neither could hide what they really wanted to say, even if they would not say it.

It was, of course, Relena that spoke first. She had always had more courage.

"I grew tired, Heero."

"Relena." Her name rolled off his tongue, as comfortable as any part of himself.

"When are you going to stop this? When are you going to stop following me?"

He did not answer that. How could he?

"It's been years, Heero." Relena stepped forward purposely, her steps graceful, unmistakably her, even though any passerby would have never made that connection that this disheveled young woman could ever be the utterly immaculate Foreign Vice Minister. She stopped when she was close to him, perhaps too close for any other person for comfort. But Heero wasn't just anyone else.

And neither was Relena.

The silence stretched out between them. It was not awkward, it was not stiff. But what could he say? That he had never turned his back on his promise to her, to protect her? That even though it had taken much soul-searching to admit it, that it pained him to be so far from her? That he felt as if he was missing part of himself?

It was with a shock that he felt his hand being taken, that he felt her cold, wet hand grasp his own and cupped it within her own, near her heart. "I know," she said, with the barest of smiles. But Heero saw the question underneath, the uncertainty. Where are you?

So he tightened his grip on her hand, saying: "I'm here." Right at your side. And staying there.