Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, and am making no money off of this fic.
AN: Written for the March 8th Cocktail Party prompt found here: gwcocktailfriday . tumblr .com(/)post/183163885265/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-march. (Without the spaces and parentheses.)
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Indulgence by luvsanime02
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The beers are a surprise. Zechs would have figured on Relena drinking something classier. Or maybe that's just Zechs once again projecting onto a woman he doesn't know very well, to be honest. Either way, Zechs says nothing about the order, and takes his beer without complaint, sipping it carefully. It's not that bad.
"The thing is," Relena says, straightening up and looking him squarely in the eyes, "I want people to stop flinching whenever they hear your name." Her posture must be genetic, at least. The way that she sits so carefully is exactly how Zechs does when he's serious about something. Her blunt manner of speech is also familiar, and Zechs hides his grimace. He doesn't want to talk about this, but doubts that Relena will give him much of a choice in the matter.
In order to buy himself a moment to think about his reply, Zechs takes another drink of his beer. He's warming up to the taste a little. Eventually, though, he sets down the glass and sighs. "People are always going to be afraid of me, Relena," he says. He tries to be gentle, even though there's nothing gentle in her expression right now. Maybe even because of that. "I tried to destroy the Earth. They're allowed their fear." And hate. And condemnation. But enough about him, please.
Sometimes, people still don't recognize him when he's walking in the streets. He likes that reaction the best. Anytime that Zechs appears in public as part of his role in Preventers, though, he receives plenty of flinches and glares. He deserves them. It's one of the reasons why Zechs won't go back to being Milliardo Peacecraft. Zechs Merquise is a very recognizable name, for all of the wrong reasons, and Zechs won't hide behind something else. Not ever again.
"The people," Relena says, not budging, "never see you doing anything but wearing a Preventers uniform and arresting terrorists. They need to see you associated with something else, if they are ever going to change their opinions about you." She picks up her own drink and practically inhales the brew. It's two-thirds of the way empty when Relena sets the glass down again and stares at him, waiting.
There are many things which Zechs doesn't like to do, but the most potent one has to be disappointing those few people around him who he cares about deeply. Zechs swallows down his bitterness, drinks some more of his beer, and then shakes his head. "You want me to become a member of parliament," he says. It's not a question. There have been three vacancies over the past two years, all owing to natural deaths, as far as he knows. Most of the men on parliament, in the ESUN, are old and tired, and Zechs isn't at all surprised that they've started dropping like flies lately.
Relena nods. "I want you to consider the position of Vice Foreign Minister," she says. Relena, as Foreign Minister now, has the right to appoint him to the Vice Foreign Minister position if she chooses. That doesn't mean Zechs has to accept her offer, though.
He tries to ignore the longing building up inside of himself. Not so much for the position, but to be able to spend more time with Relena. Here she sits, a woman of thirty-five, and Zechs still barely knows her at all. He wants to get to know his little sister more. His appointment to her old position would send all kinds of messages to everyone else in the ESUN, though.
"I don't want to-" he begins.
"-I'm not a little girl anymore," Relena interrupts, and there's nothing but reassurance and dependency in her eyes now. She smiles at him, just a little, one of her genuine ones. "I don't need you, or anyone else, to protect me from what everyone will say." She holds out one of her hands, her palm facing up, and extends her arm halfway across the table. "Let's do this together, Zechs."
That she calls him Zechs and not Milliardo makes his breath catch in his throat. She's always been adamant before now about referring to him only by his original name. That she is deliberately using Zechs today, that she is extending her hand to him and asking for him to join her, means a lot. It means everything.
Zechs slumps forward in defeat, and his hand finds its way into hers, grasping her fingers. Her grip is firm and strong. Zechs needs to remember that Relena is strong enough on her own now, and that he's not going to ruin her life by saying yes.
"Together, then," he says, because there's nothing else to say, and Relena toasts him with the remainder of her beer. "Can I please drink something else now?" he asks her, because while the beer isn't terrible, he still wants a nice scotch instead.
Relena laughs. "I suppose so," she says, and swipes his glass and drinks the remainder of his beer while he stands up and walks over to the bar. Zechs lets her. She is, after all, his little sister. Zechs reckons that it's perfectly alright for him to indulge her sometimes.