A/N: Hopefully this chapter works as I try and do this via my phone on holiday…Song for this chapter is Panic! at the Disco's Time to Dance.

Chapter Three

She Didn't Choose this Role

It was morning by the time the jet made its final descent into New Port City and we'd crossed something like five damn time zones in the process. There had been intermittent sleeping between us all and then hushed conversations and passing the tablet around as though one of us might be able to figure something out that the other's couldn't even though the initial report was as informative as a gossip column in a shitty magazine.

I'd wished I'd brought headphones or something but then this trip wasn't planned and despite having a go bag ready, I didn't actually keep anything fun in it so when I was awake I spent my time watching Heero sleep or thinking – which sucks. Despite the extreme comfort of the private jet, it wasn't a fun flight and it seemed to be spent ignoring each other's eyes a lot.

The landing was smooth as the wheels hit the tarmac and I could totally see the advantage of the whole private jet thing – no waiting for irritating passengers, the door opens and boom – out into the cooler climes of Northern Europe. It had been so freaking long since I'd been in Sanc that I'd forgotten the whole temperature thing – used to the warmth of settling down in one location that I hadn't had a whole lot of forethought about the climate. Heero had. He shrugged on his denim jacket over his t-shirt and I purposefully didn't roll my eyes – even in emotional confusion, there is a touch of practicality to his mental process and he'd thought about this shit. I hadn't spent a large amount of time in Sanc and it felt frosty as I made my way down the stairs and to where I saw a black town car parked. I should grab a hoodie outta my bag but felt that wasn't really Sanc worthy clothing.

It wasn't surprising to see who was leaning against the car, Preventer uniform and all, and then it made five. He exchanged pleasantries with Quatre and Trowa before it became apparent that it was only us left to say something.

"Yuy," he said, inclining his head.

"Chang."

It wasn't exactly hostile but then it wasn't actually the most friendly reunion I'd ever seen. I felt vaguely awkward as I offered a hand which he accepted and the handshake seemed weird and outta step. I'm not a handshake kinda guy anyway so it felt odd considering the last time we'd seen each other I was in a hospital and he kissed my forehead.

"Long time no see, 'Fei."

The smallest of smiles was on his face – I still guess no one got away with calling him 'Fei apart from yours truly so I guess he'd not heard that since L2.

"Maxwell," he began but didn't say anything more as though he could feel the glare on the back of his neck.

I knew the hostility wasn't all down to whatever fucked up feelings I had for Wufei – I knew Heero still blamed him for three years of thinking I was dead or whatever the hell he tormented himself with in the dark of the night on cold undercover jobs. But I also figured that there was something to it from the whole professed feelings on a recording device – that I had said that Wufei was there for me when Heero wasn't and that we could've had something. So basically it amounted to awkwardness that was not needed and for which I was almost entirely to blame. The car ride was going to be fun – just as trip to the other side of the world had been.

Wufei jumped into the driver's seat and in some silent understanding thing, Trowa called shotgun without a word which then left me to sit in between Heero and Quat, trying not to say shit to make the situation worse. There was no real discussion of where we were going – if we were separating – as it was acknowledged we'd be driving towards Sanc Memorial Hospital and that was where we were headed. I looked out past Heero's head at the locations that passed us by – New Port City had been rebuilt after the war, the great rebuilding project, and a lot of restoration work had happened. The place reeked of money and I'd always felt like I didn't belong in the place. Always felt awkward, like this was no place for me and not just being from L2 or being an ex-street rat or something, it was the amount of violence and killing I'd done too. Didn't want to sit in a place that prided itself on talk of pacifism and was all about old money.

"She is out of surgery," Wufei said. "The doctors see no reason why she will not make a complete recovery."

My hand sought out Heero's but he pushed it aside like he didn't want my touch. I looked up to his eyes and there was a clear message there – this was now a mission and shit if I was going to distract and act, you know, like the man he'd been fucking. It rankled, it damn near hurt and I felt I probably deserved it for the whole go bag situation – that I deserved his pissed reaction and his reverting back to mission shit – but it didn't mean I had to like it.

Instead, I turned my head to look out of the other window and towards Quatre who seemed to have figured something out by the tiniest changes of body language. He quirked his eyebrow subtly and I just shrugged my shoulders. Fuck, I didn't need to bring our relationship shit out now and sure as hell I was not going to do in front of the guys. Wasn't needed.

Little else was said for the rest of the journey. I figured if I wasn't talking or Quat wasn't then there wasn't really anyone to keep up the small talk so we just descended into silence. I figured we were all tired. I knew the four of us hadn't slept properly on the flight despite the leather reclining seats and sure as hell, I did not know when Wufei last slept as I'd seen the hint of tiredness.

The drive up to the hospital made my stomach drop. The press were all camped out, the vans with names of news networks emblazoned across them, and I guessed that this was fucking it – that if the five of us got out of the town car together then no matter how well my identity was scrubbed out it would still make some front page news. Thankfully, and I am truly thankful to whichever fucking god, Wufei didn't drive to the main parking lot and the front of the hospital, instead opting for some back entrance, a supply entrance located around the side, and there were numerous Preventer agents guarding the area. I felt the tension in Heero's body ease beside me – a tension I hadn't realised he was feeling until I felt him relax. Maybe he thought the same thing as me. I liked some anonymity – I didn't want to become Quatre, I didn't want to be visible. We'd been visible at sixteen and I'd hated every moment of it – I never wanted that again.

Once we stopped, the car doors were opened by helpful agents and Wufei handed over the keys to a young dude who gave a swift "yes, sir" to Agent Chang. I raised my eyebrows slightly at the deference and shit sacredness of that agent as I followed Heero outta his side of the vehicle, grabbing our bags to take with us. It seemed maybe despite the change of role or demotion or whatever the fuck had happened in the blast radius of a screwed up mission on L2 – Wufei was still a shit scary agent and the lesser agent knew that.

We entered the hospital through a side door that cut through a kitchen and we were being led past numerous guards at what I presumed worked like checkpoints. It really did pay to be the former Queen of the fucking World as the amount of security was freaking incredible and it seemed only the fact that that we were expected was letting us through these security checks without elaborate screenings. I did not want to think about the staff of Sanc Memorial. I imagined that they would've had their entire pasts looked into – every speeding ticket, every drunken brawl, hell every attempt to pick up a hooker seen – and only those with the squeakiest, cleanest pasts would be allowed to remain in the hospital. I also saw that there were not many patients around which I figured. They'd have been moved, those who could and weren't, you know, dying transferred to some other location and no regular visiting for families. I wondered if Relena would like that – I figured she wouldn't want all this shit done because of her – girl thought too damn much about the rest of the world and had that whole caring too much thing going on. Could remember her big eyes pleading with me to find Heero – just so that she knew he hadn't died or something.

Didn't tell her as I looked into those eyes that I knew he hadn't died because, fuck, if he had I would've followed him as it would've been my damn fault.

The floor that the Princess was on was even more heavily guarded and a door opened into a waiting area that was full of people – too many damn people. Relena's staff and Preventers and nurses and doctors and now us. I wanted to exit pretty darn swiftly now – there was a vague understanding of why Heero would want to be here and Wufei was a Preventer so yeah, their presence had a point of some kind. Quatre was Quatre and had connections and shit so I assumed that, at times, his path crossed with Relena's and so that made sense. And obviously Trowa followed him around like a body guard/lover crossbreed or something. Though right now the whole 'lover' thing was dropped totally as a conversation was struck between a man and Quatre and the politic speak went over my head as I just fought the fight or flight impulse. Maybe Heero wanted me to act subtle and all but then he'd not told me to go – though maybe he figured after the whole bag shit that telling me to go would be like giving me an invitation to leave him. Fuck knew.

And I really didn't want to be here when there was Sally, Noin and – Jesus, Christ, damn Merquise – yeah, I figured that being a big bro and all would entitle him to be here but I just forgot all these people I'd not seen since the damn war. Or just after before I went undercover. It would be like some big party if not for the fact that Relena was lying in a hospital bed.

It meant we made awkward conversation about where we'd been and Relena's condition until Heero left me alone to go talk to her security team and I just looked at him and said "fine" – leaving me in a place I sure as hell didn't want to be or belong, drinking bad machine coffee and not making conversation as I silently sat waiting.

We'd been at the hospital a few hours when Quat decided that they should leave and check into the hotel and I decided to go with but figured at least I should find Heero to see if he was actually going to come as there was nothing we could do at this damn hospital and I needed sleep. And he probably did too. Even superman needs sleep. With a look from the Preventer agents guarding, they let me along the corridor that Heero had left down hours ago and then I stopped in the doorway of what was Relena's room.

I looked in on the room and half expected Heero to be there, head bowed or something in the darkening light and her to be covered in wires and machines. She was covered in wires and machines but he wasn't there – remembered that he was probably talking with her security detail still and I was about to turn around and leave the Princess to her slumber when I heard the smallest damn voice.

"Duo?"

I didn't wince or anything at the sound of my name and I looked at the beefy agent at the door who only nodded in response and I went inside. I guess I'm still too damn distinctive to be not recognised as I hovered in the doorway before I walked across the room and realised there was no one in here. All those people in the waiting room discussing her and the press and the shooter and here she was, alone and hurt.

"Hey, Princess," I said and she wrinkled her nose at the use of the word.

"You were the only one who ever called me that."

"I'm the only one who calls a lotta people a lotta things. I can get away with it, you know. I'm kinda adorable."

She smiled – I was going for a laugh at least but I guessed she was still kinda outta it. I've been shot, I've been in the hospital and those drugs, which while they are fucking amazing, do strange shit to both mind and body so I sympathised a little with the chick. I'm used to people not getting my humour, too. I lived with Heero, after all.

"I should get someone, you don't wanna be alone."

"No, they'll only fuss and say what we need to do and I…" she stopped mid-sentence and her brows knotted together and she looked stumped.

"I could get Noin or somethin'," I said, putting one hand in my pocket and held onto my duffle with other and felt damn awkward. I felt I really shouldn't be in here. I so wasn't the one meant to be talking to Relena. We'd had less conversations than I had fingers and I figured that she was wasting her valuable time having a rambling conversation with me. "Your brother's outside and I'm sure the Preventers wanna talk to you as soon as possible."

"No. Please. Stay."

Those words made me feel more than weird and she made a gesture that suggested I take the chair that was located next to her bed. I decided to shrug and go with it. Maybe she just wanted someone and I was less demanding than her staff or some Preventer agent. Her eyes fluttered shut in a way I'd felt before myself – that whole slightly weird sensation like the world is suddenly made of water or glass or something and consciousness is something slippy and weird. I thought about leaving if the chick was going to sleep like her body needed but in my attempt to move she stirred. And I'm damn stealthy.

"Where were you shot?" she asked like we were talking about where the tea was or something.

"Shoulder."

"Did it hurt?"

"Don't really remember, was kinda having a heart attack at the same time so," I shrugged, "you know."

"Can I see?"

I blinked at her and I'm guessing my face said it all. She wanted to see where I'd been shot – hell the girl must be really out of it if she wanted to see that. It wasn't the best scar I had. That was the one over my heart, that vertical cut that showed what an ass I'd been and worked as the best damn reminder of how close I'd actually danced with death.

"I think you're high, Princess."

"I want to see the scar," she said, pouting.

The girl is the Vice Foreign Minister and she's pouting like a five year old who wants cookies and I can't help the small quirk of my lips. Hell, I really don't think she has any interest in my body as there is only one former Gundam pilot she'd want to see shirtless and at least I'd changed outta a t-shirt so I undid the top few buttons, sliding it down to the small pucker that indicated where Zee's bullet had entered my body. Like I said, not an impressive wound and I redid my shirt feeling like this was the sort of scene nobody wanted to walk in on – they'd maybe think it was creepy and weird. I thought it was creepy and weird.

"It hurt when I was shot."

I was thinking this was the weirdest fucking conversation I'd ever had. Her language seemed to be descending into something kid-like I realised her hand was on the drug control button – which would explain the slight slurring.

"It generally does. Kinda why it's best to avoid being shot. Ask Heero."

She giggled. Damn giggled, and I decided this was my moment to leave before it descended into something.

"He told me he loved you," she said and it was in a singsong kinda way. Again, like a child and I decided to deflect this as I really couldn't imagine Heero telling her that. He didn't tell me that and I was the one in his bed.

"I think you've had too many drugs to be talkin' to me."

"I have had the right amount." She looked kinda hazy.

"Yeah, I bet you say that when you've had too much booze… remind me to get you drunk sometime when you've not just been shot."

She just pursed her lips together and hmmm'd and I got up to go and find Heero like I'd originally intended.

"I'd like to get drunk… I never have."

I looked down at her in that bed and felt sorry for that chick more than anything. She'd become a symbol not a person, she'd been forced into a very adult world at a young age and I'd escaped that. I'd done the drunken wanderings, I'd lived a little, but she hadn't and she was now lying alone and kinda outta her mind a little and it was a little sad. She was used to being strong but nearly dying puts a lot of shit into perspective, let me tell you, and she wanted someone who wasn't going to talk to her about duty or any of that shit. And so that left me. Duo Maxwell for your comic amusement.

"You know Quat has this freaking awesome private jet and we'll all go and we'll hit Vegas and we'll all rock the suits and you can do the slutty dress," I began and she raised her eyebrows at the slutty dress comment so I redacted, "okay, not slutty but classy or somethin'. Better?"

"Better."

"And we bet on black all night because it's gotta come out at some point, you know? And then we get wasted and I let you do jello shots off Heero's abs. Sound like a plan?"

I think the jello shot comment took a moment for her to comprehend or maybe the drugs were making her drowsy.

"Jello shots?"

"Yeah and I mean, hell, Heero still works out and stuff so they're rock hard and I'm giving you total permission here so yeah."

Her face splits into a girlish grin that makes her look less of the young stateswoman or whatever she is and more like a normal twenty one year old. Even in her drugged state, she probably knows I'm talking complete bullshit as Heero would never let me do that to him but we seem to be sharing some kinda moment and she looks happier so I'm taking it as a win.

"You are good for him," she said, finally.

"Princess, you are so the only one that thinks that."

"No… you are. I see that now."

Relena made a muffled noise and her eyes fluttered and I guessed I could finally make my escape. I walked quietly and almost felt like muttering under my breath. I didn't see that. There would have to be someone out there better than me for him but instead, I just left her in the low light and let her get the sleep she damn well needed.