Hello there! We are back! Sort of . . .

We both really hope that we aren't kept away from writing as much this time around. Things have finally started to progress in the right direction. CEP and I hope that you enjoy this chapter and that we will be able to give more to you this time around. This fanfic is very important to us. It's not only fun, it also gives us the chance to show how we view the characters and their lives.

Kamineko: Wow, no criticism. But no comments! (cries) Actually, Episode 0 isn't official. It's a dojinshi, which means it was made by "fans". If you read the preface, the guy who makes it actually admits that he worked on the series at one point but got fired, and the manga is what he was planning on giving the producers as a few episodes. While few people know this, screenplays for television shows are usually ripped a new one and completely changed before they go to "film". So it's doubtful that the end result of the episodes would have turned out exactly as Episode 0 (his screenplay turned manga) did. But we are glad you still think we write well! Sorry it's been taking so long . . . we really do suck. :-( Sorry that it's been so long - things should be getting better now.

Briar Noir: Well, we certainly appreciate your review! However, we must disagree on the "emotional states". Considering that these are 15 year old kids who went through in one year more trauma than most soldiers go through during their entire tours of duty, we both agree that they are due a bit of "emo". CEP:Besides, the series is pretty emotional, too. Especially Quatre . . . Check out Endless Waltz. I laugh every time when he takes the blame on himself for the Gundams being sent to the sun.

Hououza: Duo and Heero certainly are interesting! And yes, we are looking forward to Dorothy causing trouble also. Of course the gang will get nutty, too. Thanks for the support! You are one of the best.

Crysania Fay, Risk-Master, Lady Hanabiko, YamiPaladinofChaos: Glad you liked it! Um, we suggest eating all food and drink substances before reading though.

Genkai Lady: Yea! Thank you so much for the kind words about our characterization. We really try our best. As to the Handmaid's Tale and the "built not born" we actually haven't heard of that. Time to look it up! The headline was all CEPs idea. They probably would accept it though.

Omnicat: Thanks for all the reviews. We went back and looked at those first chapters, and you're right, we do mention some things too much. We edited our copies, but haven't gotten around to changing those online. But I will say, not everyone knows how they look (or else there wouldn't be issues of people describing them so badly in fanfics), and also, it's good to have some visual aids. At least that's what I think. CEP and I both agree that using "brunette" and stuff like that is better than using their names over and over again. And when you have multiple genders in one setting (3 girls, 3 boys or whatever) using "he" and "she" can get confusing.

Heero and Relena bad blood . . . well, Duo did have a hand in it, as you might have noticed from chapter 8. And yes, after a year or two she started to get fed up. Seeing him in Endless Waltz and having very little happen to speed up the relationship was kind of a wake-up call, we think.

We like the idea of each character having a unique interaction with each other character. Thus the Relena/Dorothy, Quatre/Heero, Relena/Wu Fei, etc scenes. And yes, poor Heero! But either way he'll convince himself he's happy. Right now anyway.

The Trowa/Catherine scene: we very much believe that even Cathy needs some love and affection. She can't be strong all the time. Trowa makes a good supporter for her when she needs it.

As to your "feelings", you are pretty accurate. There are many mysteries and may ulteriour motives. We are pretty sure you'll notice all of them (unlike some of our readership, who don't seem interested sob) CEP:There are 97 ulterior motives for each character. Per chapter.

We WUV you, Omnicat! This chapter is for YOU!


Chapter 9

Earth, Moscow
April 14th – 6:45 am

"So," Trowa frowned thoughtfully, arms crossed over his chest, "that's all of it, then."

He and Quatre stood within Uncle Dave's Military Surplus Store, the latter changing into a black TAC uniform within one of the dressing rooms. The acrobat leaned against the wall nearby, hazel eyes thoughtful.

"Yes, as far as I know," came the blond's voice from through the changing room door, "I'm certain that Une has at least a few more pieces to the puzzle that she hasn't told either Wu Fei or myself as of yet, but I have no idea what they might be."

Nodding, the other pilot waited as Quatre opened the door and came out, the shorter boy frowning a bit at the uniform he wore. "It seems a bit big. It bags around my hips."

With a purse of his lips, Trowa looked him over and nods, "Well, your hips are rather slender. Perhaps you can have it taken in."

Sighing, the trillionaire nodded, azure gaze clouded from their previous topic, "I suppose I was spoiled from the tailored uniforms on Peacemillion." Turning to look into a nearby mirror, the boy frowned even deeper. "And black is so slimming that I look even more skinny than I normally do. I practically look emaciated."

"Well, black is the standard color for TAC uniforms," the taller teenager notes, looking into the mirror himself and meeting the eyes of Quatre's reflection. "You could always accessorize. How about some light Kevlar?"

Quatre shook his pale head, hands rising to his hips. "No, that's too warm, I'd get far too overheated."

"Perhaps we can find something that will make you less hot," the acrobat mused. "I'll go look for something. If that one fits you badly, try changing into one that looks more comfortable."

Sighing, the blond nodded as his friend began to walk away into the rest of the store. Having spent his time yesterday talking with Relena and Director Une, he hadn't had the opportunity to select gear for himself. Using the excuse as a chance to inform Trowa of what he had discovered, he now wondered how they were going to manage to get both Relena and Heero to stay at the school once they found out about each other.

There has to be a way. Maybe when Wu Fei returns from escorting Relena to her meetings today, we can all discuss it and come to a decision.

(-(-(-)-)-)

Earth, Tokyo
April 14th – 12:01 pm

Zechs Marquise leaned back against the wall, standing within an abandoned corridor of the west wing of Japan's Unified Nation Headquarters. Tan trench-coat collar turned up around his neck and over his long hair tied back in a ponytail, his head was bent to gaze, unfocused, at the carpeted floor.

His was a face that many people would recognize, but there were many doppelgangers in the world; he kept himself quietly hidden and to himself, a ghost among the living, and so far, he'd managed to fool the Earth Sphere into believing the lie. He could only count the times someone had told him that he resembled the traitor Milliardo Peacecraft on both hands. He hoped to prevent any more occurrences.

No one could ever know who he was . . . ever again. His eyes closed tightly as bitter sorrow cut across his brow, his emotions tossed within a storm of conflict and pain.

Treize . . . how I miss you.

There's no one else left who really knows me. No one who can truly understand or know what has occurred. It's just Lu and myself now. And your cousin stalks me like her prey . . . her part in this is as muddled as mine. And too much blood on my hands . . . including your own.

If only there had been another way . . . but the plan, and his spiraling lack of control, swept them along down a path of vengeance, deceit, and good intentions.

I know that you forgive me for what I've done. I could really use your help right now, old friend. Your cousin is planning something. I just wish I knew what. And I fear it may put Relena into great jeopardy.

Ice-blue eyes upon his past, Zechs could feel his future nearby. Without even having to turn his glance toward her, he felt her hand upon him, fingers sliding along his arm before settling into the crook of his folded arms, snuggling into the space and making it her own. As she always did.

"So," her voice spoke to him softly, a lilting, warm alto, "when will you start calling yourself your new name?"

Another name. First I destroyed Milliardo, by joining in a bloodthirsty organization such as Oz . . . then I stained Zechs Marquise' honor by staging a coup de gras, and finally I made the Peacecraft name soiled beyond repair in an attempt to show the world, once and for all, what peace really meant. My names are finished.

"I'm not sure," Milliardo returned, frowning and raising his head, struggling against the weight of every choice he had ever made. "I hate to force Relena into such a thing. I've already had so many names, so many disguises."

But unless I use this one, my family and friends will suffer. If I were discovered publicly by the authorities, I would be tried as a war criminal for my orders to Libra to plunge into the earth. So many war crimes occurred that most soldiers were forgiven, but I am considered a traitor to the human race – posthumously of course - and Relena and everyone I care about would be held as accomplices, aiding and abetting a fugitive.

Temporary insanity just wouldn't cut it, no matter how accurate it might be – and traitors don't get trials.

His eyes closed, and her warmth neared. "I think it's a good name. It suits you. It's safer for everyone involved, and Relena won't care about it. Names don't mean anything." She paused, and within his imagination he could see her indigo eyes flick away in thought, then crinkle as she smiled. "After all . . . 'That which we call a rose
by any other word would smell as sweet'."

At that, he opened his eyes to beam at his wife teasingly, and the beauty of her form dug knives laced with ecstasy into his chest. "Wherefore art I Peacecraft?" his whisper scraped along his own ears, "Shall I deny my father and refuse my name?" Raising a taunting brow, he touched her face, running fingers down the smooth skin.

"Yes," she told him simply, and he sighed, contented, as she continued. "For, 'What is Peacecraft? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man.' It's not you, my love."

He nodded and sighed, his gaze rising to peer at the door behind which Relena's meeting had begun minutes ago. "Alright. Sephir Noin it is."

Sephir. The west wind.

Milliardo unfolded his arms and took Lucrezia's hand within his own, eyes alighting upon her with a peace that he had only recently begun to understand.

I suppose it's as good a name as any.

(-(-(-)-)-)

Earth, Moscow
April 14th – 7:33 am

"Hilde."

Duo poked the dark-haired girl's shoulder and swiftly pulled back, expecting a swat, but Hilde simply continued to snore comfortably, sprawled onto her stomach upon her bed.

Sighing and glancing around the silent hotel room, Duo turned back to her and smiled down upon her, leaning over to brush her blue-black bangs out of her eyes. She was so peaceful, her tranquil expression like that of an angel.

The sunshine fell across her skin in slats of light, and he found himself tracing the line of her brow with a finger, down the nose squashed into the bedding, and then across her cheek. "Hilde . . . come on, it's time to get up."

With a tiny stirring, the girl fluttered her eyelashes and glanced up at him, then groaned and began groping for the covers. "No, no . . . too early," she croaked, finally finding the sheets and pulling them over her head.

"Nah, baby, it's time to get up," Duo chuckled, then reached out to wrestle the covers from her. "I talked to Heero, an I was wonderin' if it would be okay if he hung out with us today." His violet eyes narrowed as she remained silent. "Hilde. Hilde." Rubbing at his head, he winced, "Baby . . . come on. Get up. It's already almost seven. Look, the sun is up, birds are chirping, people're swearin' in Russian . . ."

Groaning, Hilde opened one indigo eye and glared up at him. "How the hell did you get in here, anyway?"

"Broke in, duh." The brunet grinned at her, then said, "There's breakfast downstairs. Vodka and donuts. C'mon and get up!"

The girl growled, then stuck a hand out and began waving it around until she finally caught his shirt. "Sleep," she ordered, tugging the confused boy toward the bed. "Now."

"Hey now," the braided teen tried to backpedal, but gave up at the exhausted look in her eyes. "Oh, okay." Grumbling, he pulled the covers back, then grinned as she squirmed at the cold and told her, "But I can't really sleep with my clothes on, baby. You really want me in your bed?"

A fist shot toward him and fell short, thunking into the pillow. "Stupid. Like you aren't, anyway."

After a pause, Duo murmured, "Okay," and began to undress, just as her snoring returned in full force. "Um," he looked over her as he pulled off his shirt, "I missed you."

Snoring was her only reply . . . so Duo took off his pants.

(-(-(-)-)-)

As they stepped from the door of Uncle Dave's Military Surplus Store, Quatre blinked at the suddenness of the bright sunlight and looked around, heading down the steps. "You know, I'm kind of impressed that the store opens so early," he commented to Trowa.

Walking beside him, the acrobat nodded, two plastic shopping bags in his hands – both with labels from stores other than Dave's – and raised his gaze to the sky as well. "It's probably because they're both ex-military – at least according to Wu Fei."

Quatre shrugged, cerulean eyes scanning the quiet streets of Moscow as they walked. "And why is it called 'Uncle Dave's'? Shouldn't it be 'Aunt Dave's' since Dave is a woman?"

"The words 'Uncle Dave's' sound more aesthetically pleasing, and are less likely to drive away potential customers," the taller boy returned. "But, now that we've purchased your equipment, we should probably discuss how we are going to keep Heero and Relena from finding out about each other, and from leaving the school once they do discover the truth."

Exhaling sadly, a resigned look crossing his child-like features, Quatre replied, "Unfortunately, I can't see an easy way to do it. Both of them are so stubborn."

"There's always a way, Quatre," Trowa's calm, clear voice broke through the relative silence of the early morning shopping avenue. Gazing over to his friend, a stern yet gentle look grew upon his face and he added, "All we have to do is think tactically, just as if this were a mission. What are their weaknesses? What are their strengths? And how can we manipulate and utilize them to our advantage? I suggest a meeting with the other pilots, and perhaps even the girls and definitely Sally. They can help us to determine these things more easily."

Nodding, Quatre's gold brows furrowed, mouth turning down at the thought of dispassionately considering his friends in such a way. "You're right, though it pains me to see them as tactical 'enemies' to defeat. But, how are we going to amass everyone without Heero getting suspicious or becoming involved himself?"

"I'll answer that in a moment. First I want to address your concerns." Placing a hand on his companion's shoulder, the acrobat told him, "Don't forget, our main objective is their happiness. And if we have to manipulate them in order for them to have the chance at happiness, then that only shows how poorly they themselves have been handling their own wellbeing. Remember," he smiled to soften his words, "we're not forcing them to get together. We are just making them face their demons, because if we don't, they never will. And right now, their greatest fears and obstacles are each other."

With another sigh, Quatre conceded with the bob of his head. "You're right. I just don't want us to get too accustomed to this kind of puppetry."

Trowa nodded himself to that as they came to a traffic corner and began to cross the abandoned street. "Alright. As to how to get everyone together, once again, we have to think about Heero and Relena's weaknesses. Relena won't be a problem, but Heero is here among us. The best way is to have some kind of 'social event' that Heero would be loathe to attend. Something that grates on his sensibilities and that no one could convince him to go to, no matter how much they tried."

"Hmmm." Tapping his bottom lip with an index finger, the slight blond's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Well, Heero is very . . . serious. And I'd have to say that even though he usually is capable of putting up with almost anything, and he doesn't seem very arrogant, I do think he has an ego. He just hides it well." Thinking silently for a moment, a few more seconds passed, and then Quatre winced. "Oh, that'll work. But I don't think any of the guys will enjoy it."

"What did you think of?" Trowa asked calmly, looking a bit curious.

"Well, when I was younger and living with my sisters, they used to always use me as a . . . guinea pig," the fair-haired boy 's face wrinkled distastefully. "They would put make-up on me all the time," he admitted, ducking his head in shame. "It didn't help that I've always been pretty small for a boy, anyhow. That just made me more of a perfect test subject. They loved using me as their doll." With a put-upon sigh, he mused, voice slightly bitter, "If we have a 'sleep over' party and have the main attraction be a 'boy's make-over' that the girls just happened to 'stumble upon'," by now he was using his fingers as quotation marks in the air, "then I'm sure Heero will refuse under no uncertain terms to set foot in the hotel room we're having it at. Then we can all meet together and discuss him and Relena without worrying that he'll even eavesdrop. He's so masculine that even the idea would probably be distasteful."

"Funny," Trowa commented, "since he seems like someone who would not be uncomfortable around someone who was homosexual or effeminate. I doubt he would even be offended if someone tried to say he was homosexual himself."

Glancing up, the blond tilted his head, then nodded. "Well, I think he's very comfortable with his own sexuality, and normally putting on makeup probably wouldn't bother him – if he was the one putting the makeup on and if it was for a good reason. I think it would be the idea of him being used as a toy or an object that would upset him – especially since other people are going to be laughing about how he looks in the makeup."

"That's understandable considering what we've been able to discern about his background, and rather commendable. In any case, we'll have to wait until Wu Fei has returned from escorting Relena to her meetings today. Luckily, Japan is five hours later than we are, so he should be returning as soon as her day is over."

"Right," Quatre nodded, "and on a sub-orbital shuttle, it only takes him about two hours, instead of sixteen with a commuter jet. Poor Wu Fei has pretty much learned to sleep mid-transit, but he's lucky that the bill goes to the Department of Defense – the Preventer budget being as it is."

Trowa's brown-green eyes saddened, but he smiled down at Quatre. "He's very devoted. It must be very tiring to rarely be able to sleep in a bed. And probably not very good to your back."

"Yes, when Relena told me about it I realized that this must be why he's been so very touchy ever since he became her bodyguard." The trillionaire's expression turned to a contemplative cast as they reached the hotel and opened the doors to enter. "He has many other duties, and often-times the both of them travel across the planet during her work, or even up to space, so even when he's being her bodyguard full-time, he doesn't always get to truly rest comfortably."

Holding open the door, Trowa smiled with amusement, "No wonder Sally's been so patient with him lately." Waiting as Quatre stepped into the hotel, the acrobat paused, hearing someone call something in Russian from the growing crowd of people on the streets.

"What is it?" the blond paused, looking concerned.

"Quatre," Trowa frowned, hazel gaze confused, "why is there someone yelling, 'hey, there's the guy who kissed Queen Relena'?"

With a sigh, the shorter boy dropped his head into his hands. "Not again . . ." Raising his head, blue eyes a bit crazed, he suddenly called out, "GO AWAY!" his voice cracking under the strain.

One eyebrow rose on Trowa's brow as he turned and looked at the man who had originally shouted the proclamation. "I think he's waving at you."

"Uhhhh," Quatre moaned, shaking his head as he slumped into the hotel lobby. "Heero's gonna kill me."

(-(-(-)-)-)

Earth, Tokyo
April 14th – 1:01 pm

They had certainly started out late.

Glaring through the mirrored glass at the staff members seated in the other room, Wu Fei leaned forward over the counter and once again adjusted the sound, tuning out Relena's voice on the security speakers and upping the ambient noise in the room. Some people were muttering reminders under their breaths about their new assigned duties, others were shifting in their seats. No beeping or clicking, no sounds associated with bombs or bugs besides his own listening devices.

The Chinese agent flipped through camera angles with the remote, checking and double checking from his surveillance location that the conference room Relena was holding her meeting in was secure.

The room, at first glance, could be misconstrued as low security. The table was of a fairly standard, low to medium quality wood, the rooms were painted an off-white and did not rate any art work, and the chairs could have been purchased at any office supply store.

What Wu Fei really liked about this room was the attached surveillance area right next door, doubling as a small kitchenette. Originally, when he had first started guarding Relena, the conference room had been larger, including the cubical he sat within now. With the power of the Preventers backing him and the fear of Relena's death as his leverage, he had forced every station of the Unified Nation Headquarters to install a monitoring chamber built from, and supplied with, the most state-of-the-art equipment money could buy – and if they couldn't make a new one, they'd have to divide an old room in order to accommodate him.

This way, he could regulate everything . . . even the coffee that they were drinking.

Mind crossing the subject, the Preventer frowned at the cameras, noting that they seemed to have run out of said beverage exactly when he had anticipated it. This is the part I hate the most, he told himself, knowing what came next as the Vice Foreign Minister sat down at the head of the table and pressed the intercom button.

"Wu Fei," her soft voice came over the line, "could you bring us more coffee?"

Shaking his head and grumbling, he stood and approached the newly made and pre-tested pot of Arabica in the "kitchen" area and picked it up by the handle. At least she doesn't make me carry it out on a tray, he told himself, and opened the door to enter the conference room, steaming pot of coffee in hand.

What I do for that woman . . . I can barely bring myself to believe.

Yet he did it all without more than a few choice words of complaint.

The coffee was poured expertly, and all the while he concentrated on the environment surrounding them. Nothing unexpected, so he silently returned to his observation room to continue studying the proceedings.

It truly could be exhausting at times, and he tried to keep his mind from wandering to those thoughts that concerned him most. But looking through the cameras onto the crisp image of Relena frowning with that tiny crinkle between her brows, or smiling brilliantly at something positive someone had said, or even nodding off when someone's speeches got incredibly boring . . .

Wu Fei had to catch himself from lingering too long upon her face, and upon thoughts of concern for her wellbeing. Those were better left to when she was at home among her numerous house guards, in that secret location. Far better to not distract himself when he should be concerned with physically protecting her.

Still . . . the incident with Dorothy Catalonia, and everything else that was developing into quite the messy plot, concerned him. He didn't like being so devious behind Relena's back, even if it was for her benefit. He could only hope that she would be willing to forgive his part in it, out of consideration for the effort he was putting into her future happiness.

He really knew best, after all. No matter how determined and sassy she could get, Wu Fei knew that it was just her highly spirited ways shining through. Deep inside, however, she was still a delicate flower, who didn't understand her own heart, or her desires. After all, why else would a woman such as herself let an unrequited love continue to haunt her?

She just didn't understand herself. She needed a firm hand, someone who could guide her away from these self-destructive places she brought herself to, these emotional cliffs that she seemed so ready to leap from.

(-(-(-)-)-)

Earth, Moscow
April 14th – 9:21 am

"Good morning."

The quiet, almost inhumanly calm male voice broke through her slumber for a few moments, before she closed her eyes again and sighed against the pillow.

"I said, good morning, Hilde. That means it's time to get up."

She groaned a bit and pulled the pillow over her head. It wasn't Duo's voice . . . so she wouldn't yell at Duo for it. She'd just ignore whoever it was and then continue sleeping-

Wait. Not Duo . . .

With a halting shudder, Hilde forced her eyes open to find herself looking up at a stoic-faced Heero Yui. "Eech," she tried to scream in surprise, but only managed to retch out a cotton-mouthed gurgle. Swallowing, the brunette pulled herself up, then glanced around the room to see Duo sprawled, shirtless and still in the bed, blankets tossed from his bare shoulders during his sleep, no doubt. "Heero," she managed after a few moments, "what the hell are you doing in my room?" She tried to glare, but only succeeded in squinting blindly at the sun pouring through the opened draperies. Those were definitely not open before I went to bed, she grumbled to herself as she ran quick hands through her hair. I must look like crap . . .

"You're late," the boy said to her, perched on the desk and looking immaculate except for the tousled chocolate bangs hanging over his eyes. Those eyes stared at her frankly. "Duo was supposed to wake you so we could spend . . . 'quality time' together." He raised a brow, then smirked at her surprised expression.

Buh? Heero, making a joke? Hilde shook her head, more from confusion than negation. She didn't know Heero well, but from how much she had heard, humor wasn't a strong suit. "Um . . ." Frowning, she decided that now was probably a good time to actually think about what the guy standing in her room was saying. "Wait, how did you get in here?!"

Heero just gazed at her, the humorous expression shifting as he raised an incredulous brow. "I am a Gundam pilot," he spoke very softly. "Or have you forgotten?"

Flushing, she looked away, pulling the blankets up to her chest as if the t-shirt she was wearing had suddenly become transparent. "Right . . . sorry." Then her sleep-muddled mind caught up, and she blinked. "Wait . . . why are you . . . you and Duo talked? Last night?"

"This morning," Heero said, eyes seeking the daylight outside the window as he crossed one leg over the other at the ankle and leaned back on the desk. "I got your note."

Hilde could feel the blood flooding every capillary she had, and she cleared her throat tentatively, staring down at the blankets. "Oh." She had a vague recollection of Duo entering the room earlier that morning, but he didn't seem angry. "I had no idea . . ."

An inelegant snort sounded from before her and she quickly looked up. "In any case," Heero's cool voice continued, "time to get going. Though you two certainly look comfortable enough together." He shot her a knowing look, cobalt eyes so piercing that the blood that had risen so quickly before drained away as a cold shiver wound down her back.

"W-what's that supposed to mean?!" she demanded, then bit her lip. "Never mind. Just, shoo, will you? I'll wake him up," she added quickly, flushing again at the thought of the guy who appeared quite naked from here, even though she was pretty sure he'd left his briefs on. He'd better have them on, she vowed as Heero nodded and leisurely rose from his perch, or he's gonna get his ass whipped!

"I'll see you two downstairs," her erstwhile guest commented before heading for the door, calling back as he left, "and I hope you don't take too long. I dislike having to change my itinerary once set."

Hilde glared as the door closed rather loudly, then raised her fist to whack Duo in the arm where he slept, shocking him into a dazed, bleary-eyed consciousness. "You jerk! How dare you sleep through that! Now he thinks we're sleeping together!"

His ineffectual groaning only made her pound harder.

(-(-(-)-)-)

Earth, Tokyo
April 14th – 2:57 pm

Dorothy met them at the limousine after the meeting, and they all entered the ivory automobile in a quiet group, their silence tinged with vastly different emotional undercurrents. As the two adults and three teenagers settled into the seats, Noin found her gaze flickering across each person's face before it rested upon her husband. There were a great many things to discuss . . . yet the silence hung over them all like an ominous cloud.

Finally, Zechs spoke up, his deep voice reserved. "Relena. I have something to tell you. All of you, in fact." Attention drawn to him, he frowned and continued, blue eyes hardening. "We all know that Zechs Marquise and Milliardo Peacecraft are wanted men. If they were found alive . . ." Relena's features swiftly becoming horrified at the thought, Zechs pressed on, "Therefore, I am going to go by a different name. A new one. The last one I plan on ever having. I know it may be difficult, but I need everyone here to adhere to this."

Wu Fei nodded, expression unreadable, but Dorothy seemed, if anything, petulant. Glancing out the window with a heavy sigh, the platinum blonde waved her hand absently at Zechs before saying, "If you must. But your real name is so beautiful . . ."

"This name will have to do," he returned coldly.

The young minister gazed at him and asked into the empty silence that followed, "So . . . what is it going to be?"

With a nod, Zechs told her. "Sephir. Sephir Noin."

Noin found Dorothy's intense gaze practically tangible as the young woman directed it towards every person in the car in turn. "Wind," the girl spoke in her airy soprano tone. "How appropriate. I suppose I shall have to approve, then." She gave her patented grin, a cross between a snarl and a beatific smile that always sent shivers down Lucrezia's spine.

Unable to bear the directed stare, the brunette turned away, reminding herself of why she didn't trust that girl . . . there was something more than a bit unsettling about her placid ferocity. We still can't trust her . . . and since there is no war, and nothing apparently wrong, that frightens me more than it did before . . .

"Well," Relena murmured finally. "You are my brother, no matter what your name may be." Gifting him with a loving smile, she continued, "Sephir is a beautiful name. I am sure it will do you justice, dear brother." Leaning forward, she held out her hands to Zechs, and he grasped them, and the two siblings peered into each other's eyes across the expansive gulf that was the back seat of the limousine.

But someday, they won't feel so distant, and that expanse will vanish, the brunette hoped, looking from her husband to her sister-in-law. My love . . . Sephir . . . she spoke within her own mind, How I wish you could find the strength to forgive yourself . . .

Their destination would hopefully be a further step towards redemption. Though it was a true irony, and yet fit perfectly, that the deliverance of her husband's heart and soul would be found at the grave of his best friend . . . a man whose death he helped to orchestrate a mere year or so prior.