Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

"…As a matter of fact," an older man announced in theatrical voice, as Heero and Duo made their way past him into the presidential ballroom. "A decade ago, one of the Gundam pilots nearly blew the place to smithereens!"

Heero indulged himself with a grin of self-satisfaction.

"Oh, my!" A woman exclaimed, as they continued away from earshot. "How horrible. Those boys—"

"Twit," Duo spat. "If you hadn't taken that shot, they'd be serving Dekim Barton, right now."

"Hn," Heero answered, as they continued down to the dancing floor.

"Heero," a voice exclaimed in the distance.

Heero slowed, catching sight of the platinum blond man and his companions.

The blond was well dressed, with an air about him that emitted class. Behind him were two other men, both leaning against the wall, arms crossed, cloaked in shadow. The black eyes of the Chinese fellow could make a lesser man's blood run cold. The tallest of the three, with dirty blond bangs covering half of his face, had much kinder, green eyes. All three parties looked genuinely surprised at the unexpected guest.

"Heero, it's so good to see you!" The blond man exclaimed as he continued his approach. "How have you been?"

Heero gave him a wordless nod of acknowledgement, leading him silently back to the corner he'd come from. Once the five had gathered, they turned to face the masses, studying the behavior of the other guests, as old habits dictated.

"Heero's doing wonderful," Duo finally answered, nudging the stoic pilot. "Jared's really whipped him into tiptop shape."

"Jared?" The blond pressed as they looked back at Heero.

"Oh, sorry, Quatre," Duo answered. "Jared is Heero's son."

"Son?" The Chinese man asked.

"You have a family?" Quatre questioned him.

"I have a son," Heero answered.

"Was that a yes or a no?"

Heero gave Quatre a scolding look.

"So, no mother," the tallest clarified.

"Nonissue."

"So," Duo spun the attention off of Heero, nudging the tall pilot. "Trowa. How's things?"

Trowa looked down at him without an expression. "I've been working with The Preventers and Wufei," he said, nodding toward the Chinese man.

"Ahah. You having fun with that?"

Trowa looked away, for lack of a response.

"Ya know, as we were coming in, there were these old folks complaining about what Heero did to the building."

Wufei smiled. "Fools."

"They should be grateful," Trowa said. "Heero should have turned it into ash with that last shot. Then they'd have no structure to rebuild with."

"But then he would have killed the Vice Foreign Minister," Wufei added, looking slightly amused.

Heero's eyes narrowed.

"I suppose Broderick owes you one, then, Heero," Quatre said.

"Broderick can go to hell."

A cold silence collapsed on the comrades at Heero's words. Quatre trained his eyes on his feet, not wanting to be caught between two of his friends. Wufei and Trowa both looked increasingly amused by the sudden flare of anger. Duo simply closed his eyes and scratched his head compulsively, to reduce the awkwardness.

"Where's Lady Une?" Heero finally asked after several minutes.

"She will be entering with the announced guests," Quatre answered. "With Miss Relena."

Heero was visibly irritated. "When will that be?"

"In three minutes and forty five second," Wufei responded without hesitation.

:::

Relena rose to her feet when there was a knock at the door. She's been practicing her finest smile, to be in character, and now was her chance to try it out.

"Enter," she called.

Her fiancé stepped into the room, scanning her with his deep green eyes. "You look lovely," he said.

Relena nodded sweetly, and then smiled. The smile he returned her told her that she was a success.

"Don't forget that I'll have to leave early, tonight."

"Of course, Broderick."

He offered her his arm, and led her to the entry doors of the ball. Relena nodded cordially to each of the honored guests as she came to them. The doors opened slowly, as the master of ceremonies read the announcements of each couple.

Relena, being the symbol the people had all come to see, was the last to be announced. She heard her name being read. "Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian and Broderick Tullis the Third." She took a deep breath, forcing her smile, and then glided out before the people on her betrothed's arm.

As the warm lighting and Christmas colors poured over her, the gold embroidery on the corset of her forest green, velvet ball gown seemed to catch fire, dancing and smoldering like the light of a candle. The cool, shimmering colors of her makeup gave her the distinct appearance of an angel. The crowd went wild with whispers of admiration for the powerful beauty above them.

Relena and her date stepped up to the railing of the grand staircase, pausing to allow pictures and to take the guests in. Her eyes searched the numbers for familiar faces. Her smile seemed more genuine when found her brother, off to her right. Soon her looking paused in the other far corner, where her old friends were standing. But in the shadow she saw not three—not four—but five men.

Meeting Heero's gaze, she felt a shock of electricity run through her whole being. Her mask crumbled and her smile melted, no longer aware of the view of her many admirers. Suddenly she was weightless, again, in his gaze, as they seemed to dance, alone in the room, oblivious to the rest of the world. She heard nothing. She saw nothing. But she felt him. Only him.

"Relena?" A voice called from outside her dream. "Relena?" He persisted. "Relena?"

Relena snapped free of her reverie, looking up at Broderick, startled.

"Darling," he whispered, through a fake smile. "The people are waiting."

"Waiting?" She couldn't remember her script, anymore. Was she supposed to say something?

"For us to open the floor. We dance." He gave her another grin, his eyes filled with worry.

"Oh," Relena said, rejuvenating her fake smile. "Yes. We dance." She took his arm and let him lead her down the stairs, avoiding another a glimpse of the dark corners.

:::

The men stood stock still through the announcements.

Quatre mumbled something about his excitement to see Relena's gown. He said she'd gone out of the box with a strong color, and expressed his curiosity to see how it looked on her.

Heero only seemed to grow more still as the people poured through the doors. By the time Relena was announced, Trowa and Wufei were sure he was not actually breathing, at all.

"Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian and Broderick Tullis the Third."

The lady stepped out in vibrant green gown, festively colored and accentuated with gold. She glided up to the railing to be seen, and seized the opportunity to allow her eyes to wander the room.

"She looks beautiful, but—something's wrong," Quatre observed aloud.

"She looks like a porcelain doll," Trowa said.

"There's no light in her eyes," Wufei clarified.

"Queen Relena."

Heero's words sent a chill through the group. They'd each seen a picture of her, when she was given the roll as Queen of the World, all those years before. She was an image to take in. But she seemed sad, even in pictures. Now, she was smiling, but there was still an unfamiliar soullessness. One that only Heero had ever seen in person before.

"But—why?"

Quatre's words fell impotently to the ground as Relena's searching stopped. The smile, they all knew was fake, disappeared. Her pain seemed only to magnify. She looked like she might cry.

Each soldier noted that she was looking in their direction, but not looking at them. When they turned their heads to follow her stare, they were all a little less than surprised to find Heero glaring back at her. There was something unusual in his eyes that the three estranged friends had never seen. Duo simply looked away, as if avoiding a nakedness found in the other pilot.

He looked hurt, if not angry.

Each man found their way back up to her, as her fiancé called her from her trance. She forced another, political smile as she took his arm to be led to the dance floor. Heero sighed as the Waltz began, and Relena followed her date's lead, silently spinning with a grin across her cheeks and emptiness in her soft blue eyes.

When the men relaxed and looked, again, Heero had vanished.