"It's time to put your papers away, Grandfather," Arielle said, speaking Japanese for her grandfather's benefit. "I brought dinner."

"You cooked it, dear?" he asked, also in Japanese, as Ari wasn't supposed to know English. "All by yourself?"

"Of course, Grandfather," she replied as she began unloading the tray, setting plates and serving utensils on the bare desktop. "I made it just for you."

Although the cruiser had a cook and a full galley, Arielle was responsible for preparing meals for herself and her grandfather. Kenji was kind enough to carry the tray from the kitchen, but Ari had to manage the heavy thing on her own once they got to her grandfather's suite. Servants weren't allowed into his quarters anymore.

Ari didn't mind cooking—she found it cathartic, in fact—but it bothered her that her grandfather had recently become so insistent on it. Up until a few weeks ago, he'd called it servants' work and had ridiculed all of her culinary endeavors.

"Excellent work, Akiko," he said. "You're going to be a fine wife one day if you keep it up."

"I'm Ari-chan, Grandfather," she replied. "Akiko was Mother's name. But I'm glad you're enjoying the food."

Praise was strange coming from the man who'd raised her on a steady stream of criticism and ruthless restrictions. Ari tried to let it go. Sudden change in behavior was a common symptom of dementia, after all.

"This soup tastes wrong," he said suddenly, pushing the bowl toward her. "I think it's been poisoned."

Paranoia was another symptom. It was why Ari had taken over his meal preparation—he usually trusted her over any of his men, although it looked like tonight was going to be an exception.

"I left out the salt," Ari explained. "The doctor said your blood pressure is too high and your heart can't take it. It's good for you, Grandfather. Eat it."

"Only if you have some too," he insisted. Ari sighed and had a few spoonfuls to placate him. It was strange without any salt; the flavor was bland, almost bitter. No wonder he was complaining.

"There, see?" Ari said. "It's fine."

"Hmm," he grumbled as he picked up his spoon and began eating again. "Tell me about the mission, Ari. Are things going according to plan?"

"Yes," Ari murmured. "We still have another week before we reach our destination, and then the Red Fang will carry out the last stage of your plan. The execution will be publicly broadcast, just as you instructed."

Arielle didn't care for this at all. Killing a Preventer—and not just any Preventer, but a former gundam pilot and the spouse of one of the world's most beloved public figures—was corporate suicide. There was no way Kiba Hydroponics could handle the kind of press that would follow once the execution—the murder, really—was carried out. They would be caught this time, Ari had no doubts about that. And her grandfather, who had one foot in the grave already, wouldn't be the one who ultimately faced the penalties.

Ari didn't have any power to stop it, though. She didn't have the courage or the financial means to do otherwise. She'd been raised to respect her grandfather's every wish, and he controlled all of her property and assets as tightly as he'd controlled her education. He had taught her business as he'd learned it—the ruthless survived while those who stooped to their morals were doomed to failure and obscurity. She didn't bow to idealism or morality. It had worked for her, too, until just recently.

Faith Yuy—or Faith Maxwell, as she preferred to be called—had neatly sidestepped everything Ari's grandfather had taught her in one single, simple gesture. Ari still couldn't figure it out. Faith had thrown everything away—literally thrown it into the pool—rather than bow to the pressure Ari and Selda had put upon her.

Maybe it just ran in her family, Ari mused. Faith's father had done essentially the same thing when he'd given himself up to the Red Fang. Ari didn't understand that, either, but then again, she'd never known her own father. Maybe that was just how fathers were.

It doesn't matter, Ari thought. For now, I have to concentrate on what's in front of me. The rest can wait until I have a better handle on the situation.

"Are you finished, Grandfather?" she asked. His bowl was empty and he hadn't reached for the serving dish himself.

"Yes," he said. "But you haven't told me about the girl. Is she in our custody yet? We have to have the girl if our mission is to succeed, Ari."

Ari looked away without answering. There was only one girl her grandfather could be talking about—and their prisoner would not be happy if he learned that the leader of the Red Fang still wanted his daughter.


"Don't look at me like that," Faith said to Torstin when he glanced up at her for the fourth time. "You're the one who just had to come outside. This is all the outside you get, boy."

They were lucky enough to have a real yard with real grass. Most people in the colonies crammed into apartments. They were luckier still to have such a nice house; once upon a time, it had been a small apartment building. When the original owner decided to sell the whole place and move to Earth, Duo and Hilde took out a huge loan and bought it.

Faith hadn't ever considered it before going to Earth, hadn't realized exactly how expensive it was to live on a colony where space and resources were so strictly limited. But now she knew and she wondered how Duo and Hilde could afford to have everything they did on the scrap yard's earnings.

It's none of my business, she decided, watching Torstin sniff the gatepost with disdain before finally lifting his leg.

But it certainly explained why they tended to cut corners when it came to certain things. Like clothes. And groceries.

"Are you finished yet?" she asked Torstin. "Cause if you're just going to stand there and stare at me, we're going back inside now."

Faith jumped when she heard an engine suddenly roar around the corner. She glanced up, wondering who was causing such a commotion in their sleepy neighborhood, and ran for the porch when she saw the white van.

It wasn't the same model as the van that had blown up outside Jake's Café a few weeks ago, or the one that a Red Fang spy had imprisoned her in, but it was enough to make the memories fresh and send Faith scrambling for her house keys.

She trembled by the front door and nearly kicked herself when she realized it was a moving van dropping things off for the new family that was still getting settled in the vacant rental house across the street.

"Great," Faith muttered to Torstin, fumbling to open the door with fingers that still shook. "Now I'm afraid of moving vans? What's next? Butterflies? Ugh. I hate being such a pussy, I really do."

She shut the door firmly behind her and pushed it out of her thoughts as she unclipped Torstin's leash and kicked her shoes off in the atrium. Torstin followed her, a furry shadow, as she padded into the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" Duo asked, looking up from the pot he was scrubbing. "You look a little pale."

Faith scowled. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said. "Something surprised me, that's all."

"You know you can talk if you want, right?" he asked. "You were awfully quiet at dinner."

"I just didn't feel like talking over everybody else," Faith replied. "I didn't realize that being quiet was considered suspicious behavior in this household. Guess I should have, though, as long as I've lived here."

Duo chuckled quietly as he started loading the dishwasher. "I missed you," he said. "I even missed the wisecracks. Everybody's been worried; all I've heard is 'How's Fay?' and 'When's Fay coming back?' ever since you left. It's been total silence except for that—it was like living in a mausoleum, with everyone tiptoeing around and acting all sad. I'm glad that's over."

Faith didn't have anything to say to that. Honestly, she just wanted an opportunity to scrape her thoughts together. Dealing with her situation on the colony wasn't any easier than dealing with it on Earth. Faith didn't know how to respond to everyone's questions about her time away, especially the ones about her dad, and she was certain that it would only get worse as time passed. At least everyone else was busy for now—the boys were doing their homework and Maggie was getting Lexi ready for bed—but Faith didn't doubt that breakfast would be a repeat of dinner, and she wasn't looking forward to another inquisition.

Faith grabbed a damp sponge off the countertop and started scrubbing the kitchen table. If she was going to be in the kitchen, she might as well make herself useful. It impossible to think over the sound of dishes being manhandled, anyway.

"Why do we even have a dishwasher?" Duo complained. "You practically have to wash everything before you put it in anyway, so what's the point?"

"You're asking me?" Faith muttered. "It's your house, Duo, and you're the one loading the dishwasher. You don't like it, don't use it. Also, that knife can't go in there."

Duo set the knife on the counter and sighed. "It's always something, isn't it, Fay?"

Faith looked at the floor. She knew he was talking about more than just the dishes, and she felt a little bad for snapping at him.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Everything sucks right now."

The plates clattered one last time as Duo closed the dishwasher and turned it on. He leaned back against the counter, looking entirely too proud of himself for completing the task. It isn't like cleaning the kitchen is hard or anything, Faith thought, watching him for a moment before she went back to scrubbing the tabletop. Even the dog can do it. Kind of. Torstin was probably just hoping to find some tasty crumbs on the floor. Faith heard him sniffing and then lapping at the tiles under the table and she sighed inwardly in disgust.

"So how was Earth?" Duo asked. "I mean, I know it wasn't exactly your dream vacation or anything, but there must have been some good parts."

"Let me put it this way," she said. "Earth was a rollercoaster and I was the kid throwing up in the back. It's hard to find any good in that."

"Not even staying with your parents, huh?" he asked. "I thought you'd at least enjoy getting to be with them."

"I'm better off here. Mom's a crazy workaholic," Faith replied. "And Dad—he said he'd never leave me again, but you know how that turned out. He pushed me off on Trowa and just walked away. That was the worst part of all. I miss him. And I hate that I miss him. And I can't even be mad about it because he did it to protect me."

She stiffened when Duo pulled her into a hug, but she clung to him when he tried to let her go. She knew she could be contrary at times, but at least Duo didn't seem to mind. He squeezed her a little tighter and Faith felt safer than she had in weeks. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and took a breath. Duo smelled like dish detergent, but Faith didn't care. She was back where she belonged, at least for a while, and that was all that mattered.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime, kiddo," he replied.


"Please tell me those aren't pickles in your ice cream."

"They're not pickles," Relena grumbled. "I grabbed the wrong jar out of the cabinet and didn't realize it until I was pouring jalapenos over my ice cream instead of fudge. I'm out of ice cream, though, so I'm just eating around the peppers."

She wasn't really eating around them, but she didn't want to admit it out loud. She didn't need to say anything, though—it was a video phone and Relena knew that Sally Po hadn't gotten through medical school and the military without learning a thing or two about observation.

"You and the peppers," Sally chuckled. "Honestly, I don't see how you can stand it. I'm getting heartburn just thinking about that, Relena."

Relena shrugged. "I've never had that problem," she said. "When I was a little girl, my father and I used to have contests to see who could eat the most Thai food in a sitting. Poor Mother couldn't even watch us."

Relena smiled fondly at the memory. Life had been so much simpler in the days before the war. She'd had to grow up too quickly after her father's assassination. She didn't have many regrets, but sometimes she wished things had turned out differently.

It would be nice to have memories of carefree days with Faith. Almost anything would be better than their current fractured relationship, But Faith wasn't safe on Earth, not as long as she had access to Wing Zero, and Relena had to put her child's safety before her own selfish wishes.

Even if it meant being alone again.

"So how have you been?" Relena asked, scooping up another bite of ice cream. "Is Len settling back into school okay?"

"Everything's fine," Sally said. "Len told me he talked to Dak today. He's going to see if Duo will let him visit Faith while she's there. Should I let you know if I hear anything about her?"

"That would be wonderful," Relena said, smiling. "Faith doesn't talk to me, Sally. At least, not about anything important. I don't think she trusts me."

"I don't think she really trusts anyone," Sally replied.

Relena sighed. "She was starting to confide in her father," she said sadly. "At least she was up until, well, I'm sure you know what happened. I-I can't talk about it, Sally."

"I understand," Sally murmured. "How are you holding up, Relena? I know you must be under a lot of strain since Heero and Faith are away and you're going through so much trouble at work. These situations can take a toll on a person, emotionally and physically. If you're having problems, you shouldn't hesitate to call me."

Relena pushed her bowl away, her appetite suddenly gone. It didn't take a genius to figure out why Sally was calling out of the blue.

"You've been talking to Lucy," she accused. "Look, I understand that she's concerned about me being on my own, but I'm fine. I can take care of myself, Sally."

"You can take care of yourself. Right. I guess that's why you're out of groceries and you're eating ice cream for dinner," Sally said. "With jalapenos. I'm sorry, but that's disgusting, Relena."

"You sound just like Faith," Relena muttered. "All right, Sally, you win. If it'll get you and Lucy off my back, I'll get myself checked out. I don't suppose you can work me in early, can you?"

"You're already on my book," Sally replied. "Seven-thirty. I thought I'd try to get you in before the clinic opens, to avoid the attention. And now I'm going to let you get back to your ice cream. See you in the morning."

Relena forced a smile and ended the call. The ice cream went into the garbage disposal. Relena wouldn't be eating anything else tonight, not if her poor, grumbling stomach had anything to say about it.

"Maybe I do need to see a doctor," she said to herself. "The last thing I need right now is an ulcer."


Dak crept back into the house sometime after midnight. He'd spent the evening alone in the garage, avoiding the chaos that seemed to follow Faith wherever she went. She'd changed while she was gone; how much was open to interpretation, but Dak could see the difference in her posture, her distant eyes, and in the way she smiled without really smiling. She seemed so—tense. So brittle.

It bothered him, and it made him wonder if there was some truth to what Len had told him at school. It wouldn't be the first time Faith had gotten herself into trouble, after all.

A lamp was on in the living room, but for once it wasn't Maggie curled up on the couch with a book, struggling to stay awake long enough to finish her homework. Faith was sitting in the middle of a heap of blankets, running a brush through her mass of dark-chocolate hair. Her monster of a dog lay on the floor at her feet, but he sprang to attention when he noticed Dak standing in the doorway. Faith glanced up, startled, but then she smiled and Dak decided that she probably wasn't upset with him for sneaking up on her.

"Hey," she murmured. "You disappeared earlier. I missed you."

"Sorry," Dak said. He crossed the room slowly and sat on the opposite end of the couch, wondering what he should say. "I missed you, too."

It was lame, but it was the best he could come up with. Absently, he rapped his knuckles on the end table, trying to come up with something better. It seemed stupid to ask her if she was okay when it was obvious—at least to him—that she wasn't.

"I'm glad you're home, Fay," he said. Still lame, but true. "Everything's been crazy lately. I think we're all ready for things to go back to the way they used to be."

Faith's brush hit the carpet with a dull thump, and Torstin snatched it up and took off with it before Dak even registered that she'd dropped it. He stopped on the opposite side of the coffee table and watched them with eager eyes. Dak wondered how long it had been since anybody had taken the time to play with him. Even guard dogs got time off every once in a while, right?

"Do you really think it's possible for things to go back to the way they were?" Faith asked. "Eventually, somebody's going to realize that I'm not still hiding out at my mom's house. I'll have to go back when that happens. And my dad…"

She trailed off, shaking her head sadly. Torstin, perhaps sensing that it wasn't playtime after all, padded over and dropped Fatih's brush back into her lap. She scratched behind his ears and he leaned into her hand, grunting happily.

"No. Things aren't ever going to be like they were, Dak." Faith stopped petting Torstin and started braiding her hair. Dak stared at her in disbelief.

"What are you saying?" he demanded. "Your mom can't make you do anything, Fay. She abandoned you here thirteen years ago and let the public believe you were dead! She lied to all of us. If you don't want to go anywhere, you don't have to. Mom and Dad will back you up if you want to stay here, you know that. Fay, just give it a little time. Pretty soon you'll start to feel just like your old self."

"What about my dad?" she asked. "Preventer isn't going to do anything to help him. And I can't just sit around and let him sacrifice himself for me. I have to do something, Dak. Before anyone catches on that I'm here."

There was nothing to say to that. Dak recognized the determined look in her eyes. It was the one she got when she was planning crazy things, things adults told her typical teenage girls just didn't do—like building space shuttles.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I-I don't know yet," she murmured, staring down at her hands. "But I can't just let things lie. And I can't sit around and pretend everything is okay when it isn't. I'm sorry, Dak. I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but I'm just not the same person I used to be and I don't think any amount of time is going to change me back again."

This is not gonna be good, Dak decided. But if I say anything to Dad, he'll stick Fay on the first shuttle back to Earth where she can't cause any trouble here. That's no good either.

"Look," Dak said. "Sleep on it. Go check out our shuttle in the morning—you always feel better when you're working on a project. And really think about this. Your dad surrendered himself because he wanted you to be safe. Do you really want to put yourself at risk and piss all over his sacrifice?"

"You sound just like Trowa," Faith grumbled. "Is this a guy thing, or what? There's nothing noble about somebody just throwing their life away, Dak. It's just—waste."

Dak shook his head. "You just don't get it, Fay. Drop it. Go to sleep and maybe I'll try to explain it for you later. I'll see you in the morning, Fay; I just remembered I have to send an email before I go to bed. School stuff. You know."

"Oh. Right," she murmured. "Night, Dak."

"Night."

Dak jogged up the stairs, trying to compose his message as he went. Hopefully Len wouldn't flake out on him. Faith was in over her head this time, and Dak had a feeling he needed all the help he could get. Even if it meant trusting the guy who'd gassed the entire school.


Notes: Many thanks to everyone who's read this and left a review! It makes me smile. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this finished. I just started a new job and these twelve hour shifts are eating my lunch. And then there are orchestra rehearsals...Anyway, to make a long story short, I've been a busy girl. I'm not even sure I got this chapter right...Let me know if you see any mistakes, please. I have NO idea when I'll get Chapter 5 finished, but I'm working on it!