Author's Notes: Happy Holidays, everyone! In this chapter Danie and "Anne" return, both in various stages of camouflage. Perhaps that will make more sense as you read the chapter. But it will become more apparent who "Anne" is if it isn't already. Why not just make it easier and use the name? Well, I can't help liking the slight murkiness at the moment. But don't worry. I've got something pretty frosty set up for the Big Reveal.

I put Danie in Okinawa because I couldn't help another Kill Bill allusion. "The Man from Okinawa," anyone? I was originally going to have a Yuki Amami-inspired character (a la BOSS) hiding in Danie's room, but I figure this way is simpler. And leaves more draw for the next chapter.

Speaking of which, in the next chapter, everyone goes to the Land of Peace: the newly restored Sanc Kingdom.

Well, hopefully. I shouldn't draw this out any further, right? ;)

I hope you enjoy! Please read and review :)

IX

So this is Abigail Taylor, Heero thought, regarding the sleeping child.

The thing that had Heero speechless was not the fact that he had been wondering about the girl ever since her name had come up a month ago but instead the familiarity of her features. The very thing that Nicole had noticed as well.

"Why is she here?" Heero asked.

Nicole shook her head. "She didn't tell me that much before she passed out," she responded. "My gut tells me that she is running away from something."

You probably didn't need a rocket scientist to tell you that one, but he didn't say so. "Indeed," Heero murmured.

Before Nicole could say a word, there was a brisk knock on the door.

Heero gazed at her in suspicion. "Who the hell is that?" he demanded.

Instead of cowering, Nicole rolled her eyes at him. "I just told you, stupid. You weren't listening were you?" She shook her head in consternation and went to answer the knock at the door. Heero stared down at the sleeping Abigail as voices drifted toward him. He was not shocked to hear Mitchell's voice; he could not recognize the other male voice that sparred with Nicole.

Heero turned to see wariness come into Mitchell's eyes as he entered the room behind Nicole. He supposed Mitchell was uncomfortable with his proximity to Abigail, so he took one step away from her and into the living room area with everyone else.

Nicole spoke first and broke the crushing silence. "I think Miss Mystery needs to be cleaned up." She went to the bed and hefted the unconscious eleven-year-old. Mitchell started to protest, but Nicole gave him a look and waved him away. "And let one of you do it? Nuh uh! It's not like we don't have same parts anyway."

Nicole left the room, and tension settled upon them again. The trio of men eyed each other, and Heero could all but taste the distrust in the air. It had a bitter flavor. This is going to get us nowhere, he realized.

"You had better sit down," Heero advised Mitchell, who still looked like he was in a great deal of pain. He then turned to the other gentleman as Mitchell settled into an armchair. "And who are you?"

"Jeff McDonald," he introduced himself. "I was walking home when…it happened."

Heero's brow furrowed at the sentence, so Mitchell explained what had happened as he and Jeff had been walking to his doorstep. Heero pondered on which uncertainty to tackle first as he heard the water running in the bathroom nearby.

Because there were so many, he began with the obvious: "Where are her parents?"

Mitchell rolled his uninjured shoulder, wincing, and sighed. "Her parents didn't come along with her so they're probably still in New York if they haven't noticed she's gone. She made this trip alone. In fact, all evidence indicates that she ran away from home." He paused thoughtfully before resuming. "Her mother is dying of bone cancer, and it has affected her profoundly. She told me that she believes her mother is not getting any better, and I believe that prompted her running away from home."

"Do you know she is a clairvoyant?"

All the blood drained from Mitchell's face leaving him as pale as wax. Jeff stared at Heero with blank shock. "Excuse me?" Mitchell managed.

Heero couldn't tell if Mitchell was shocked because he himself didn't know or because Heero knew. He continued, "Abigail Taylor has a gift, Mitchell. She can see things we cannot. If she says her mother is dying, it's not the pessimism of a sheltered young girl; in all likelihood, it's true."

When Mitchell remained silent, Jeff looked at him, incredulous. "Are you telling me that little girl in there is psychic?" When Mitchell gave him a meaningful look, he looked away with astonishment. He shifted his gaze to Heero.

"How do you know so much about Abigail?" Mitchell wanted to know.

"Someone wanted me to know about her," Heero admitted, thinking of the cryptic email from a month ago. "Until then, I had no knowledge of her. Contrary to your belief, I didn't seek her out. Someone believed I had a connection to her and planted her in my sight, so I had to find the reason why. That is why I know so much about her. And yet…" Heero shook his head. "I know so little…"

Disbelief furrowed Mitchell's brow as he tried to work through the statement. "Whoa, wait a bloody minute here. Why would anyone think you had a connection to Abigail Taylor?"

Heero held Mitchell's olive gaze for a long moment. "Because I think I'm married to her mother," he replied simply.

In a seedy apartment near Okinawa, Japan, the woman the neighbors knew as Michele Morgan wiped at the foggy mirror in her bathroom and stared at her reflection.

Steam billowed around her, obscuring the rest of the room and thickening the air until it was hard to breathe. She barely noticed the breathlessness. She luxuriated in the sensation of being clean, relieved to be rid of her blood-soiled clothing, which were now slated to be burned to rid the Earth of evidence of her crime.

Because her real name was Daniella Thomas, and she was growing weary of shedding and wearing blood.

Number Three on her death list had been dispatched, but the information he had given her left her with a great deal of disquietude. But then again, her entire life these days was one great mass of disquietude, so she was grimly resigned to it.

She had been traveling incognito since she had left her husband in late July. All of her aliases had come in handy as she skimmed by on the dark side. She realized as she ended Nicholas Groaden's life three weeks ago that she was no longer working for to avenge her lost innocence. Now every step she took assured the protection of the two lives she had brought into the world.

And Heero...

She sighed and closed her eyes. That last image of Heero going unconscious stuck in her mind's eye. The pain she caused him she felt in her own body and she wished things could be different right now, could have been different from the start.

Too late for wishing now, baka, Danie chided herself. Now you've gotta work for what you want.

Tired of being idle, Danie turned away from the mirror and exited the bathroom.

Meanwhile, at a house in southwestern London, another woman also filled with disquietude stood in front of a mirror.

Her anxiety was of a different sort. She was about to take a foray onto what others had called hallowed ground, a place she had at one time called her home. After many years and several tragedies, she wondered what dangers her former home possessed. She feared them. Those phantom perils lurked in her mind like ghosts. She feared not for herself, but for the girl standing beside her whom she had sheltered for ten years. The reason of it all.

"We don't have to do this, Mum," said the girl beside her as her mirror image accompanied hers. "We can stay home."

"I wish you would've said that a month ago." When the girl looked guilty, she sighed and shook her head. Her French braid swayed down her back. "No, no, I don't mean that."

The girl hopped up onto the counter near the sink, the back of her head reflected in the mirror. "Maybe on some level you do, like subcontinental or something."

She couldn't help chuckling at her daughter's malapropism. "You mean subconscious, dear." Her mirth soon subsided, and she idly toyed with a lock of her own hair.

Her daughter waved off the mistake. "Pretty much the same thing." She stared at her mother meaningfully, violet eyes filled with concern. "But I meant what I said, Mum. We can stay home if you want to. I won't be mad."

The woman stared at her mirror image with her own grim determination. Logic told her that the monsters she feared were of her own making, and she was acting like a scared child. She needed to open the proverbial closet door and face reality.

But this whole situation defied logic.

Ironically, Logic would also say that she was supposed to be dead. But she wasn't.

So much for logic.

With that sentiment, she turned to the dark-haired girl and held out her hand. "We already bought the train tickets," she reminded her daughter. With a slight frown, the girl gave her the box she had been holding. Her mother opened the box of hair color and quietly started to mix the chemicals that would temporarily color her hair the same shade as her daughter's.

Mitchell went still again. Meanwhile, Jeff choked out a chuckle. "I hope you're not saying that you and Victoria Petrie met on some ill-begotten night in Vegas and secretly tied the knot."

"Victoria Petrie is not Abigail's biological mother," Heero corrected him. It was Jeff's turn to go pensive. "I'm sure in all intents and purposes, Ms. Petrie is Abigail's mother, but there is no biological tie between them."

Mitchell, recovering from his shock, nodded. "Harlan is sterile. They tried having a child but failed." A shadow of something unreadable darkened his eyes and he lowered them to the floor. "Victoria even asked me to help her conceive a child, but I told her I wouldn't do that to Harlan."

Jeff rolled his eyes. He knew all about Harlan Taylor from the realm of public opinion, and the public was hardly merciful. "Who cares about that wanker? I say you should have done it—and rubbed it into his face every chance you got."

Mitchell gave him an irritated glare. "Have some respect for the sanctity of marriage, McDonald." He then looked to Heero again. "Are you saying that you know Abigail's biological mother?"

Wordlessly, Heero removed his wallet from his back pocket. Mitchell watched as he extracted a picture and held it up. Both Mitchell and Jeff leaned in to observe the picture. Once the mental comparisons had been made, sounds of awe came from both of them.

"Yes, I can now see the resemblance," Mitchell admitted.

"She is quite the stunner," Jeff remarked. Then he added when something flickered in Heero's eyes, "You are a very lucky man."

Heero replaced the picture without agreeing, and Mitchell noted the discontent on his face. He waited a beat before he commented, "I am guessing Mrs. Yuy didn't make the trip here with you."

"No," Heero responded. "She disappeared a month ago. She didn't reveal where she was going or why." To find out who's keeping my babies…

Mitchell still looked utterly flabbergasted. Jeff peppered Heero with questions. "Well, what does she do? Does she know where Abigail is? Could she have been the one shooting at us?"

Heero opened his mouth to address the first two questions, but the third packed an unexpected wallop. It was a possibility he had never thought of. Could she be here, right now?

As he pondered this, the bathroom door suddenly opened, and the patter of quickly approaching footsteps met their ears. The men sat up, alert, as Nicole's voice came floating out to them. The tone was slightly chiding.

It didn't take long for Abigail to appear.

Now clad in a robe, Danie sat on her bed with a file folder and a small, hand-held computer.

Nicholas Groaden had not been good for much more than his money and influences, and in the end—of his life, to be clear—he had given Danie one great piece of the puzzle that had presented itself one month ago.

She had learned quickly the whereabouts of Abigail Taylor, the second child that had been borne from her that painful night in March eleven years ago. Her twin, however, had been more elusive.

According to Nicholas, Chance Copeland had sold both babies for an obscene amount of money to two wealthy couples. In the back of her mind, Danie had thought it distressing that the adoptive parents did not question the origin of the twins.

That is, until it occurred to her that they all—Copeland, the parents, the whole lot of them—were twisted as fuck. She knew Harlan Taylor was, the sonofabitch. She didn't consider the other pair of parents, the ones about whom Nicholas told her, any better. They had to be somewhat worse in a way, she reasoned, for cloaking themselves so expertly.

Danie knew a lot about covering up secrets. Didn't mean she had to like it.

In the file folder, she sifted through evidence of money transfers and other momentarily useless documentation. She already knew enough about what had happened. Now she just needed to know who.

"Anne Katherine Meredith," Danie murmured aloud. She pulled up the profile on Anne Meredith and studied it.

Full Name: Anne Katherine Meredith Drake
Date of Birth: 8 May 73
Place of Birth: Chelsea, England
Place of Residence: Kensington, England
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Height: 5'7"
Parents: Helen and George Meredith
Siblings: None
Spouse: Eric Cornwell Drake (b. 72, d. 99) (m. 91-99)
Child(ren): Shannon Marieanne (b. 97)

She stared at the black and white for a long time, trying to form an image of Anne Meredith in her mind. She found that she could not do it objectively and violently shoved the paper away. Restless again, she then pushed off of the bed and started to pace with the computer in her hand.

That woman has my child, Danie thought.

She stopped in mid-step, looking at the screen. There is no way I can let that lie.

With her thumbs, she brought up one of Arashi Corp's databases that she had hacked into earlier that evening and typed in Anne Meredith. The search brought up nothing. Considering it, she decided to take a different path—and plugged in the name Katherine Drake.

After a couple of dead ends, she found her—and an address in South Kensington. Blood hot and racing, she dug a little deeper and found a bank account. After looking at the most recent transactions, something blossomed in her mind. A place that had her heart speeding up.

The Sanc Kingdom…

"Mum?"

She looked up at the sound of her daughter speaking to her. She had a towel wrapped around her damp hair, turban-style, and was wiping away the mess washing away the hair dye had left. "Yes?"

Her daughter leaned on the door frame, clad in jean shorts and a blue tank. She could tell by the way the girl's brow was furrowed that something weighed on her young mind. "Do you miss it?"

The woman frowned. "Miss what, dear?"

"Your old life. Back when you traveled the world and spoke to great people about great things and stuff. That had to be very exciting."

She faintly smiled at her daughter's glittering eyes and youthful perception. "There are some aspects of my life that I miss." A fleeting image of a dark-haired man with blue eyes flashed through her mind and she couldn't help the pang in her heart, even after all of these years. She turned to her daughter then, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "If I had to go back and do it all again, I would do it all the same." Well, she contended silently, thinking of the dark-haired man, perhaps maybe there are a couple of things I would change.

She tugged the towel from her head, and dark locks tumble freely onto her shoulders. The contrast from her former hair was stark, staggering. She stared at herself, amazed at the change.

She was not Anne Katherine Meredith anymore.

But she didn't know if she was anyone else either.

She wore the hotel-issue fluffy bathrobe that engulfed her small frame. Her dark hair was still damp, and the bath had erased all vestiges of dirt from her face, leaving it pale and colorless. Her eyes were slightly wide as if she were startled. Nicole appeared moments after, expression grim.

"Abby?" Mitchell ventured.

Her eyes flickered toward him for a moment, but rested upon Heero. Mitchell's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement. Heero regarded her expressionlessly while conflicting emotions raged inside of him. There was something in her gaze that faintly reminded him of Danie; however, after a moment, he found that she bore a better resemblance to her quieter, more subdued aunt. After a second, she blinked and schooled her face to mimic his. It was Heero's turn to be mildly shocked.

Without warning, Abigail drifted across the room, robe trailing out behind her. Nicole, Jeff, and Mitchell held their breaths as she stopped in front of Heero, who managed not to move a muscle. At this close proximity, he could see the exact color and shape of her eyes, which did not remind him of her aunt but of someone he didn't want to think about. The pang that caused was undeniable.

Her head tilted slightly, and her lips parted as if she were going to say something. She learned forward and extended a hand.

Bafflement filled Heero's face when her fingertips rested on his forehead…

…And she jumped back, cradling her hand to her body as if burned.

Mitchell jumped up, ready to console Abigail but forgetting his injuries, and hissed loudly in pain. Jeff went to his aid. Nicole sighed and scolded him while she strode across the room to Abigail.

Still, Abigail had not spoken. Neither had Heero.

"Abigail," Nicole began gently, "what happened, girl?"

Abigail didn't answer Nicole, frowning instead. Lips pressed together in determination as if spurned onto some perilous task, she reached out for Heero again, pressing her fingertips to his forehead.

A heartbeat later, she made her first statement since entering Heero's presence: "You're looking for her, too."

She was ready.

The bags were packed, the house was clean and set for their return, and as far she was concerned, everything was ready.

Her daughter flitted around, turning things off and making sure windows were locked. She took those solitary moments to think about how much she had experienced in the last ten years. Would she take it back? So many lives had been changed; she was not oblivious enough to deny the ripples her demise had caused, how it had reverberated through the world. The landscape of everything she had known had been transformed in the aftermath.

But the peace, however counterfeit it was, calmed all of the misgivings. Isn't that for what she had been fighting all of her life? Peace?

She inhaled, looking around at her entryway, where the pink roses blushed against the ecru-colored wall. She took in the London Times sitting folded on the table by the phone, the random purple barrette that her daughter had deposited. Almost like she might not see it again.

No, she thought, I will be here again. This is my life. I will fight for it.

"Mum? Everything's locked."

With focused eyes, she looked at her daughter and nodded, hefting her purse onto her shoulder. As the dark-haired pre-teen picked up the bags on the porch, she felt something inside of her purse vibrate. Frowning, she dug out her phone to find she had a new text message from an unlisted number.

After encrypting the text, she got one word: Ganbatte.

She smiled faintly, feeling a light, protective aura around her. That was a signal of goodwill if ever she saw one.

Assured, she secured the house and left.

You're looking for her, too. Feeling slightly violated and greatly unsettled, Heero reached up and lowered Abigail's hand. He found that it was cold in his grasp, fought the urge to hold it until it was warm. Why do I feel like this about a child I just met?

And more importantly, how does she know…? "What do you know about…my wife?" Heero inquired, finding it hard to say the phrase my wife without hesitation. Before she answered, Heero clarified, "About where she is."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "There is no way in hell…" She trailed off, thinking about how Abigail sensed the danger before the shots had rung out in front of Mitchell's flat. Then she threw her hands up in the air. "Aw hell. You know where she is, don't you?"

Abigail looked a little sheepish. "I cannot help what I know or what I don't know."

"It's not like it has a dimmer switch," Jeff remarked archly to Nicole.

Nicole threw him an irritated look. "Look—nobody asked you—so how about you just sit over there and shut the hell up?"

Mitchell raised a hand—and his voice. "Shut the fuck up—both of you." They went stonily silent. He laid a gentle gaze upon Abigail. "Abby—who do you mean and where is she right now?"

Abigail hesitated a moment, looking uneasily at him, then at Heero. Before anyone could encourage her, she steeled herself and replied, "The lady that Harlan wants to kill. She is heading to the Sanc Kingdom."

Heero went cold at the mention of the Sanc Kingdom—the very place he was going to visit in a short while. Thoughts racing, he rose from the couch and brushed past Abigail, who frowned at his retreating back. Nicole stared down at Abigail, bemused. "The lady that who wants to kill? And what lady? I mean, do we know her?" She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Could someone please explain what the hell is going on here?"

"Her adoptive father is the man she means," Mitchell responded, eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. He blinked at Heero, who was emerging from the bedroom with his duffel in hand. "But the lady in question…"

Jeff went pale when it came to him. "It's…your wife."

Nicole's eyes went huge. She gaped at Jeff, then at Abigail, and finally whirled on Heero to gape at him. "What the hell…? You mean to tell me Danie is heading to Sanc? Right now?" She rubbed her temples and murmured to herself. "What in the hell is going on y'all…this shit ain't cute…" She sobered quickly as it dawned on her what Heero was doing. Her hands dropped to her sides and she threw them into the air in consternation again. "No. Aw no…aw hell no…Hiroshi Yuy…" she began.

Heero stuffed some pants in the duffel and glared at her. "Don't you dare try to stop me," he warned, voice low.

Nicole put her hands on her hips and placed herself in his path as he moved around, packing his things. "And what the hell do you think you're gonna accomplish by dashing off to Sanc now? What—you're gonna stride up to her all locked and loaded and be all 'Omae o korosu'?'Cause I know you're packing heat and you ain't gonna part with that even if you have to swallow it." Everyone watched in stupefaction as Heero sidestepped her and unplugged his laptop. She whirled and fumed at him. "You'd better cease and desist, Yuy. I am not playing with you." Of course, in her anger, with you came out more like witchu.

Heero zipped his laptop inside its case. "I am not scared of you, Nicole."

"Yeah?" She pulled out her cell, which was working perfectly now. "I know of one person you are scared of."

She was ready, too.

The room had been set to rights—that is, she had cleaned thoroughly to free it any traces of her existence. Danie was not going to return to this place anytime soon—or hopefully never again. She hoped that after this mission, she would never have to live this way, in the squalor of anonymity.

She was deviating from the list, but she had her target now. This one was the most important of them all.