( Okay, this is 'what if' on an epic scale. This time Murrue's the prisoner. And no, it's not going to pan out like one of those doujinshi's. Can't do that to her... )

"Nnnn.."

"Awake, huh?"

Wish I wasn't. Everything hurt. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, wincing at the pain that caused - broken or cracked ribs, probably. Her left arm was crossed up over her stomach and held tightly, so a broken arm, and given the pounding of her head she'd likely done that some damage too. At least her legs worked when she wiggled her toes. Wherever she was it was pretty dim, but a faint light shone from somewhere near her feet. "Where am I?"

"My ship." The voice was familiar but for now she couldn't place it. Shuffling up slightly she leaned against the pillow, trying to make out the speaker. "Sorry we had to put you here."

"Hmm?" Managing to focus she made out the bars at the door and suppressed a sigh - wherever she was, she was a prisoner. "Alliance or ZAFT?"

"Alliance."

Wonderful.. "My crew?"

"We didn't find anyone else."

She quirked a smile. "You should have left me there. I'm no use to you."

"Only because the Alliance has no interest in deserters right now."

She rolled her eyes. Of course they'd have done a blood test. "So why am I here, exactly?"

"You were in a bad way. Orb are our allies, so we brought you back to get you patched up." The figure moved slightly, more into the light, and she got a confused impression of a black uniform and a silvery metallic helmet. "You don't seem very grateful."

"For being a prisoner?"

"For what it's worth, the doctors wanted to keep you in sickbay."

"But you decided I was a threat?" Considering that she couldn't even sit up the idea was amusing. "I wouldn't even be much of one if I were healthy."

"This is the safest place for you." There was no concern in his voice - the statement was matter-of-fact, indifferent. "They picked this crew to be loyal, and not neccessarily to me. If they knew there was a deserter on board, how do you think they'd react?"

The phrase 'not neccessarily to me' sent a chill down her spine she tried hard not to show. Not just the Alliance. Blue Cosmos.

"You understand now?"

A bit too well. "Don't tell me you're going to protect me."

"For now, I will. Until you've recovered."

Then what? She stared at the featureless metal ceiling. She left the question unasked, not wanting to know the answer, though she thought she could guess. Once she was recovered they'd likely hand her over at an Alliance base, and once they'd gotten all they could out of her..

"I know." the man said as though he could see what she was thinking. "I'll do what I can."

"Why?"

He shrugged. Not exactly reassuring, but more than she'd expected. Pressing a few buttons he opened the door and walked inside, locking it behind him. The uniform and helmet made him seem a forbidding figure, but strangely she didn't feel afraid. Reaching into his pocket he tugged out a bottle of something that rattled, probably painkiller tablets. "Don't take too many of these. They said they're pretty strong." Removing a white glove he placed a hand on her forehead. "No fever, though."

She closed her eyes at the touch, realising who his voice reminded her of.

"Why are you smiling?"

"No reason."

Tougher than she looks, he decided. She'd looked pretty fragile when they'd brought her back here, bloodied and battered, but despite her injuries she'd held up remarkably well, dark eyes betraying no hint of fear. Difficult to not respect that. All the same, her being here is going to cause some problems.. Not because of her having deserted - his crew were loyal - but because of her looks. Even with the bruised face and swollen lip she was beautiful, and that was why he'd had her brought here to the brig. If she was going to be of any use to the Alliance, it was better that she wasn't harmed. Removing his hand from her forehead he noticed that she was watching him, still with that little half-smile on her face.

"You're not scared."

"Of what?"

"Me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Should I be?"

"Most people are."

She looked him up and down, the direct gaze making him somewhat uncomfortable. Almost everyone around him avoided looking right at him, whether because of his rank, the mask or something more he wasn't sure, but she didn't seem to have a problem. Eventually she returned to looking up at the ceiling, uninjured arm resting by her side. "Do you want me to be afraid of you?"

"I.." He didn't particularly want people to be afraid of him, but it made his life easier. The crew followed his orders, they kept away from him, and they didn't ask questions. Still.. "It'd make my job easier if you were."

"Yes, it probably would."

Somehow though, I doubt you will be. He didn't intimidate her - he wasn't sure he'd be able to - in fact she was so frank with her words and gaze he felt intimidated. Not what you'd expect from a prisoner, but he had a feeling that he'd barely scratched the surface with this one.

"Will they question me?" The question caught him off guard, he glancing down just in time to see a flicker of fear in those eyes.

"Probably." Once she'd been taken to an Alliance base they'd likely have a lot to ask her, and he doubted they'd be as civil with her as he had been. "Would you tell me?"

A quirk of a smile. "You know that my crew and I deserted, probably know that we fought with Orb at the end of the Bloody Valentine War. What else is there?"

"Why you deserted in the first place?"

She closed her eyes. "You wouldn't believe me."

"How do you know?"

Thin fingers curled in the blanket. "No-one would. I have no proof. But they'd be as likely to kill me to keep me quiet as they would to set an example."

He frowned, staring at the deck. He'd seen (and done) enough to know that the Alliance could be pretty underhanded sometimes, but killing someone simply because of something they might have seen? Glancing back up he saw that she was watching him, expression both sad and perfectly serious. She meant it. She really did believe they'd kill her. "Why?"

"We saw too much. Knew too much." She winced as she tried to shuffle up against the pillows. "What do the records say happened at Alaska?"

"That.." He pursed his lips, trying to recall. "That ZAFT levelled the place. They destroyed everything, even ships that were damaged and trying to escape." Noting her saddened look he sighed, shoving hands in his pockets. "You were right."

That little smile again. "You don't believe me."

"Why should I?"

"Good point." She used her good arm to adjust the thin blanket she'd been given. "You have no reason to. You just have my word, and that isn't worth much."

"No, it isn't." Harsh words, but also true ones, and she knew that as well as he did. "Most prisoners will say anything to save themselves."

"And that definitely wouldn't save me." He thought he heard a trace of laughter in her voice - gallows humour, he supposed. Odd that she could find something like that funny.

"Why did you get involved in our battles? Orb are our allies."

"The Seirans are your allies."

Neo's lip curled. Seiran. Why he'd agreed to let that pompous little brat on his ship he still didn't

know. Huffing quietly he crossed his arms, looking up in surprise when he heard laughter. The act clearly hurt, her uninjured arm held over her stomach, but she was laughing. Giggling, actually, the sound gentle, kind. "You don't like them either?"

Though reluctant to admit they had something in common he shook his head, somewhat disappointed when the laughter faded. Leaning back against the wall he stared out through the bars. "You disagreed with the alliance then. Because you knew we'd find you?"

She smiled, not seeming bothered by the barb. "We like Orb the way it is. The way Cagalli-san wants it to be. And.." A twitch of her shoulders to indicate a shrug. "Sick of the fighting. There's no point to it."

He snorted. "Don't tell me. 'We're all the same underneath'."

"Aren't we?"

He wasn't able to answer that.

Sore. The fingers of her left arm visible under the cast were bruised purple and blue, moving only a fraction when she tried to wiggle them - she'd certainly done a good job. Of the attack she didn't remember much, just that she'd been trying to meet up with some of the ZAFT forces when all hell had broken loose. The ZAFT soldiers likely thought she'd lured them into a trap, and there was no telling what had happened to any of her friends. The Colonel - he hadn't given his name, but the rank stripes at least gave him a title - had said they hadn't found anyone else, which was just what she'd hoped for. Kira-kun told me to run. To get away and not bother trying to protect anyone. But I had to. I'm the one who wanted the meeting...it was my fault they were attacked.. And she'd ended up being captured, and would probably be... She shook her head, deciding to not think about it. For now, she was safe - he'd said as much.

You can't trust him though, she told herself. Not just because of who he sounds like. It had been easier when he'd addressed her as a captor would, distant and formal, but his tone when he'd come into his cell to question her had been more conversational, and she'd found it hard to answer him without it feeling as though she were talking with Mwu. She smiled a little. Mwu had helped them all escape the Alliance, now one who sounded like him was taking her back there. There was probably some irony there somewhere. Lying back on the prison cot she tugged the blanket a little further around herself, wincing when the movement aggravated her injuries. Reaching for the bottle of pills he'd given her - odd that he'd trust her with them if they were as strong as he said - and popped the lid to take one. If nothing else, it'd help her sleep.

I hope you're all okay... With any luck, they'd be safely back in Orb. Closing her eyes to fight back tears she thought about what they'd be doing now. Erica would be upset, and so would a lot of her friends at Morgenroete, Kira-kun would probably be thinking of a way to rescue her though he had no idea where she was - at least Andrew and Lacus-san were safely at the Terminal base.

They'll be fine without me.

She was sleeping. Not unexpected if she'd taken one of the painkiller tablets, which were pretty strong, but what was unexpected was the smile on her face. Not one of those half-amused expressions she'd given him (as though she wasn't quite sure what to make of him) but a real and very beautiful smile. How she could smile like that in the situation she was in was anyone's guess, but he couldn't help but admire her for it. The impression that she was tough had been backed up by her Alliance record, which while obviously sketchy after Alaska, had given a decent account of the battles she'd been through. Murrue Ramius (a pretty name), born October 12th, CE 45 in San Francisco, California. She'd graduated near the top of her class at the Academy, but stayed behind in San Diego to teach engineering until being called up from the reserves to take up a post on the experimental battleship Archangel. She'd fought ZAFT almost everywhere, from the colony the ship had been made on through to the African desert and even as far as Alliance waters, and judging by a report made by her second-in-command she hadn't exactly done things by the book. While the report's tone was definitely disapproving, he'd been able to pick up on quite a few details that said a lot about this captain and her personality. She was far more compassionate and kind than was necessary - holding a memorial service at Junius Seven's remains, holding a temporary ceasefire with ZAFT to hand over who could have potentially been a very valuable prisoner, diverting course to save a mobile suit on re-entry despite it putting them half a world away from their destination... quite a list, and that was only a fraction of it. Plus she seemed to be something of a lateral thinker, which had gotten her ship out of trouble but clearly irritated her subordinate. Wonder why that is? I'd be happy to have someone like her on my crew. Whatever the case, the subordinate had handed over her report, which had resulted in a hearing at headquarters. And reading the record actually made me angry. The head honchos had summarily blamed all the bad things that had happened on some kid from the colony and poor leadership. How had it been poor? Sure, she hadn't followed regulations to the letter, but the decisions she had made had done more to save her crew than sticking to the rules would have.

"I shouldn't have judged you," he murmured. "I'm sorry about that."

He wouldn't hand her over just yet. He hadn't even reported to Djibril that they had her, and didn't plan to. Instead he planned to learn more about her and why the Alliance had washed their hands of her and her ship. To hear her own reasons for the things she'd done.

And this time, he wouldn't be so quick to doubt her.