As the days wound towards Christmas, the weather began to close in properly around the Palace, more snow blowing in across the mountains and turning the grounds into the postcard-perfect winter scene that so drew the tourists. Newport City hung coloured lights from every door and window and carollers roamed the shopping centres, adding to the charm.
Relena, as she did every year, wound her Political office up for the year, transitioning effortlessly from Minister Winner to Princess Peacecraft for the Christmas Season. It didn't mean a reduction to her workload - in massive demand as such a part of the romantic image of the country, she and Zechs both found themselves swamped with public engagements every Christmas, although a good chunk of them were enjoyable enough in their way.
They were old hands, of course, but this Season was the 25th anniversary of the 1st Eve War and the pressure was greater than it had been for years. Zechs's entire family had been so involved that they were a natural focus for the reminiscing that was taking place. Even the children found themselves getting caught up in it.
Treize, as Relena's new Communications Secretary, was on his feet constantly, writing for her and for press releases on her behalf, spinning following interviews and photocalls, constantly running to deadlines that grew ever tighter. Quite quickly, he found himself doing the same for Zechs, as so many of their engagements were shared.
Relena made no apology for that, and Treize didn't appear to expect one. Zechs might have said something, except that the deft touch of a hand that had long known how to capture Zechs's awkwardness into a sort-of taciturn sincerity had the effect of making the siblings appear more together and on-message than they ever had, Zechs carrying his full load for the first time rather than being subtly propped up by his more-capable sister. The combined result was successful enough that Zechs even consented to Aleks joining in some of the less-serious engagements when Treize suggested it, presenting a Royal triptych for the very first time.
The reaction they got was overwhelming. Photographed Aleks had been, but he had never had a Public role before. Sanc went crazy, and the rest of the ESUN wasn't far behind. Every inch as beautiful as his father had been at the same age, Aleks was witty and charming with it in a way Zechs had never been. Photogenic and poised, he was backed by a man who knew exactly how to work those traits to best public effect. The splash he created, the 'Prince of Peace' stepping forward for the first time, almost drowned out the headlines reflecting on the Wars.
Aleks was dazzled, Zechs, astonished. Relena was absolutely thrilled. She'd won hands down in her ongoing battle to make Aleks a political figure and the momentum and the image-boost she'd gained by association guaranteed a favourable reaction to her election announcement in the New Year.
Treize, mostly, was focussed on doing everything he could to get Aleks's public image off to the right start. Five weeks of research had done nothing to soften his initial impression of James Pendragon – the man was a shark who'd waited barely 48 hours after leaving Sanc before being seen and photographed with Duchess Elizabeth Stewart at a hunt.
In as little as two years, Aleks would need to be able to stand toe to toe with him, publicly and privately, and although he had natural skill, he was completely untrained. As the world focussed on the events of a quarter century in the past, it concerned Treize that only he and Quatre were at all worried about the events of the next twenty-five years. James Pendragon was manoeuvring to have immense political power in the next decade and only Aleks, of everyone in the Earthsphere, was positioned to be able to blunt that on even terms. Several shared conversations had seen both Treize and Quatre agreeing that, if only for the sake of his marriage, Aleks needed to be a match for the other Prince.
In addition to all that, Treize wasn't without his own share of attention, especially once Mariemeia arrived from China with Wufei and Ning, and quite quickly found himself with a schedule that wouldn't have been out of place in the height of his Command. Worried about Aleks, Zechs and Relena more than himself, tired from the Season and the workload, and still not entirely familiar with all the various media outlets and their representatives, he was nowhere near his previous top form by Christmas Eve, when suddenly, and with very little warning, he really needed to be.
His presentation at the Remembrance Service with Marie had done exactly what everyone had thought it might and the image of them standing, hand-clasped and solemn, had gone viral, beaming all over the Earthsphere. It had lead to any number of requests for joint interviews and shows, the clamour so fervid that they'd both agreed they had to accept at least one or two or risk the appearance of having something to hide.
Besides, Marie's career rested on her public popularity, so turning down free publicity would have been stupid, and Treize building an independent profile wouldn't hurt his position with Relena any, either.
Their first event went off beautifully. Their second appearance, on Christmas Eve, did not.
Standing in the Green Room, the whole family hissed in collective shock as the interviewer suddenly deviated wildly from the list of approved questions.
"Bloody hell!" Duo spluttered angrily, voicing what everyone was thinking. "Did he just ask what I think he did? I thought we pre-approved this thing?!"
"We did," Zechs replied grimly, wincing as he listened to the sudden dead air. Next to him, Relena pivoted on one heel to cross the room and open the door, doubtless intending to face off with the studio representatives.
She almost collided with Dorothy and Felix, running in from the next room along, where they'd been watching the live broadcast as it aired. Dorothy swivelled, falling in with her long-time friend, presumably to add her own considerable influence to Relena's. Felix came to stand by his father and Godfather, watching the screen in horrified silence.
"...I beg your pardon?" Marie asked on the screen, wide eyed as she looked at the host.
It was a classic set-up, Treize and Marie next to each other on a couch, the interviewer sitting in a single chair opposite them as temporary lights, boom mics and two cameras turned Zechs's favourite snug into a studio solely for the purpose of the interview. Zechs had given dozens from the same room and knew it was a forgiving, intimate space that tested well with focus groups and made viewers predisposed to like and be comfortable with the subjects being interviewed.
That wouldn't be enough to save this from being a crashing disaster if something didn't change in the next few seconds. Marie's shocked reply had bought a little time, but it had also drawn attention to the lack of poise suddenly being shown. The interviewer had well and truly tripped them up and his smile said he knew it.
"Take it to commercial?" Felix asked from Zechs's side, saying out loud what might be the only save. The broadcast was live to air – there wasn't even a time delay that might let them reset and ask a different question.
"Where do you think Relena and your mother went?" Duo replied bluntly.
On the screen, the interviewer smiled a little more, looking absolutely innocent as he shattered the agreed script. He should have asked Treize what he thought of his sister's music, setting up for the close-out to the programme – a pretty little brother/sister rendition of a carol Marie had arranged for Treize's guitar and her piano.
Instead, he'd gone completely off-piste and asked...
"Twenty-five years ago tonight, your father sacrificed himself in the last battle of the War. As his children, why do you think he did that?"
Zechs shook his head, silently screaming at his sister to hurry. "Even if we do, they've got to answer," he said tightly. "Come on, Treize," he encouraged softly, staring at the image of his oldest friend. Marie was visibly stunned, not at all used to questions that awkward. She very deliberately never did what she had tonight, giving a totally uneditable interview, and most of her public appearances were with entertainment shows that weren't interested in much other than her music.
Their first joint appearance had been much in that vein. The talk-show host they'd been with was known for being kind and she'd kept it light, favourable, granting opening after opening for them to sparkle and laugh and come off as charming and youthful.
The network anchor facing them now was from one of the more serious political shows, a necessary evil with Treize in the picture because he couldn't afford to deal only with the gossip columnists this soon into his new role. Quatre had advised against him but Relena had a love-hate relationship going on with the man and she'd sworn he had integrity.
Apparently not. He'd promised to keep it reasonably fluffy, and had during the screen tests and the sound checks, but something had made him ditch that plan and go for the throat.
It was horrid, awkward and bang out of order – but it was nothing Treize shouldn't have been able to handle.
Quatre, listening to the sound feed on a set of head-phones pressed to one ear, shook his head. "I can't tell you his thoughts," he murmured, "but I've always believed he did it for Peace."
He was quoting the answer Treize needed to give. The only possible answer he could give. Even Zechs could have parsed it to something on those lines, so why was there still silence?
"Get it together, Khushrenada," Quatre murmured again. "You've volleyed far worse. Catch it, spin it, move the hell on!"
The anchor put a hand to his ear, clearly being fed instructions from his floor team, but he didn't withdraw the question, letting it sit in stretching silence.
"Marie?" he prompted. "Treize? Have you never thought about it?"
Marie blinked again, then drew a deep breath, readying herself to say something.
Zechs winced – she wasn't at all trained to handle a hostile press like this – but as she steadied herself, Treize seemed to blink awake. He moved suddenly, put a gentle hand on hers and leaned forward a little. "Of course we have." he said quietly. "We've thought about it and we've talked about it and we concluded that our father regarded his own life as less important than the Peace he was trying to achieve."
The phrasing wasn't the fifteen-word sound bite Quatre had given but it hit the mark and it answered the question. More, the way he delivered it almost made it seem as though he had been considering his answer rather than freezing.
Zechs gave a noisy sigh, letting the tension that had suddenly appeared drain away.
"Good enough," he sighed. "Now we'll get that commercial," he said to Felix, expecting the screen to go dead as the Producer responded to Relena's heeled foot up his arse and cut to tape.
Except, that didn't happen. "You believe your father regarded Peace as more important than his own life?" the anchor pressed. "What about your lives, then? He left you alone by dying as he did. Some might call that irresponsible?"
"Jesus, Blondie. Wufei's gonna de-ball this guy," Duo warned darkly and Zechs could only nod in agreement.
"If my sister and your wife don't get there first," he said. "Relena vouched for him. What is he trying to achieve?" he wondered. "He's got to know we'll Black List him now. He'll never get near another serious interview again!"
Quatre looked up from his sound-feed at that and shook his head with a steely-eyed look. "He will if he gets them to twitch," he corrected quietly. "What he's doing is suicidal, but not if he drives it home." He gestured to the screen meaningfully. "It's live, remember, and half the Earthsphere is watching. There's something of a history of interviewers pulling tricks like this. If he can get them to blink or, even better, to actually come unstuck on air, his career is set."
"... father believed me safely in the care of my mother and her family," Marie replied on the screen, drawing her elegant figure straight. There was a flash to her eyes that left no doubt as to whose daughter she was. "I wonder why you deem him alone irresponsible? Were all the soldiers who were parents irresponsible? I'm sure my father considered himself no better than any of them, and my brother and I are no different than any of the other children who lost their fathers or mothers."
"Oh, good girl!" Quatre murmured, his eyes sparking and Zechs could only nod his agreement. It wasn't a perfect response, but it would definitely do. The anchor was going to have to be very careful now to not seem like he'd just slandered the memory of thousands of the honoured dead.
The man knew it, too, because he blinked rapidly twice, and then turned his body to address Treize. "And you, Treize? Mariemeia was the product of a love affair but you were a Romefeller breeding contract. Does it not bother you that your father didn't even wait for you to be born?"
Treize pinned the man with a dark look but again he hesitated before answering. "I think it would bother me far more if he'd allowed the War to continue another three months for that reason alone," he said eventually. "However many more dead soldiers and civilians, just so one man could meet one baby?" He shook his head slowly. "I obviously don't know what he was actually thinking, but I don't believe he would have countenanced that. Besides, like my sister, he knew I would be safe and cared for, by my mother first, and then King Milliardo, if needed."
Quatre nodded again and Zechs let himself relax another step. The answer was clumsy but it was on point, referenced his back-story and shored up his 'father's' media image. The King wasn't quite sure why Treize was being so slow but he was doing enough. "Is that deliberate?" he wondered out-loud, nodding at the screen. "Did you or Relena prompt him to play dumb?"
Quatre glanced at him, then shook his head. "You think he's acting?" he wondered. "I'm not sure. I hope you're right." He shrugged. "This is bloody gutsy of the anchor, Milliardo, and that worries me because it means he got something," he warned. "He wouldn't risk it otherwise."
In the studio, the anchor blinked again – and then smiled slowly. "Ah, yes. King Milliardo," he mused. "The relationship between your father and the King is one which has never been fully disclosed but they were long rumoured to have been lovers rather than just friends. Is that true?" he asked bluntly, but he didn't wait for a response. "What about the accusation that your father didn't give his life courageously for Peace as is recorded? It's been suggested that, rather than heroic, his death was actually suicide in the wake of his relationship with the King dissolving. Can you confirm that?" he demanded suddenly.
There was an utterly stunned silence on both the air and in the Green Room, a breathless moment when nobody moved and no-one spoke.
"Oh, fuck me!" Duo screeched suddenly. "That's way outta line! What the hell are 'Lena and Doro doing letting this carry on? They need to shut this shit down right the fuck now!" He stormed from the room as spoke, slamming the door loudly enough that it echoed into the study opposite and was picked up by the mics.
Zechs, staring at the screen in a numb haze, heard him and agreed but had no words to respond with. Had the anchor really just thrown that question on a live feed? It scarcely bore believing. "Quatre...?" he asked weakly.
His brother in law materialised at his elbow in a breath. "I heard," he murmured and even he sounded utterly thrown. "Good God, but where did he get that?" He was wide-eyed, as shocked as Zechs had ever seen him. "He can't... he must have a source, Milliardo. The network would never have let him try it otherwise. He's given you grounds for legal action, never mind Treize's estate."
The King could only agree. He'd spent years – decades – stamping on every hint of speculation about himself and his former commander outside the family. It was a topic solidly forbidden and every single news, gossip and media outlet in the sphere knew it. To openly ask about their relationship was ballsy of the man – but to speculate as he just had...? Quatre was right – the man had someone willing to go on record.
Still standing next to him, Felix looked up suddenly at him in unadulterated horror. "...Source?" he asked, sounding thoroughly sickened. "You think...?"
Zechs turned his head as the Doctor suddenly began swearing in Spanish and yanked his phone from his pocket, hitting buttons at speed. "Sally?" he snapped. "Are you watching...? Yes... No... Quatre thinks the anchor has a source."
Why was Felix talking to Sally, Zechs wondered immediately, much less doing so with that tone in his voice? He sounded royally angry, whatever the reason.
"Shut it down," Quatre murmured, drawing the King's attention back to the screen. "Come on, shut it down," he encouraged.
"What?" Zechs asked stupidly, trying to follow.
"They've got to shut it down," the younger blond explained immediately. "Right now. Right here. Instantly and automatically – they have to shut the whole subject down, hard. A statement in the morning won't do it, a comment from you or Relena won't be enough. They bury that right now or no-one will ever believe anything else ever again. This is what the anchor came here to do, Milliardo," Quatre said, angrily. "I don't know where he got that story from but it's media gold. If he can make even 1 in 10 people believe that's what really happened, the consequences will be massive."
Zechs nodded blankly, knowing his sister's husband was right. Give a rumour like that even twelve hours to grow and it would never die. "They will," he replied, but he sounded more hopeful than certain and with cause. On the screen, both Marie and Treize were still frozen in white-faced incomprehension.
"... Jesus, Sally, I don't know!" Felix snarled abruptly. "Just check!"
Zechs wanted to ask what that was about, but as he opened his mouth, Marie took Treize's hand in hers and fairly glared at the anchor. "How dare you," she said coldly. "How dare you spread such malicious fairy-stories, today of all days."
The anchor had enough courtesy left to look genuinely chastened. "You deny it?" he asked.
"Of course we deny it!" Marie returned hotly. "His Majesty King Peacecraft has long since dealt with the speculation surrounding his friendship with my father, and as to the rest of your slander..." She shook her head. "Your accusation is just that – slander. There is no evidence whatsoever of your claims."
She looked cold, composed, regal herself – definitely her father's daughter, however much she normally tried to soften that side of her public profile. Treize, next to her, was looking at her, his eyes fixed on hers as she defended him.
The anchor shook his head at her. "Many people doubt the version of events presented by the King, Marie," he chided gently.
Treize turned his head as the anchor finished speaking. "Do they?" he asked quietly. "Doubt is not evidence, and your comments are, if not slanderous, certainly in incredibly poor taste," he said softly. "Did you serve, Mr Brabiner?" he asked. "Do you actually know anything of what you're speaking of? Or is all this mere speculation on your part?"
Zechs watched as the Interviewer paused, stilling under Treize's blue gaze. "I'm 35, Treize," he answered, and it was an awfully awkward way of saying no, he hadn't been involved in the fighting.
"Then, with respect, you aren't qualified to comment at all and I'd thank you to keep your imaginings about what may or may not have happened to yourself."
Zechs raised an eyebrow but found himself smiling, wanting to applaud his friend. "Nice," he said quietly.
Quatre glanced at him, then shook his head, his expression openly asking the King if he was serious. "Not especially. I hope he's playing at this, Milliardo, because he's in trouble if he's not. That answer was amateur – too defensive and too leading."
Leading? Leading into what?
"Come now, Treize. I'm as entitled to my opinion as anyone," the anchor chided steadily. "And I'm sure we'd all be interested in yours. If your father wasn't thinking about King Milliardo, what do you think he was thinking about?"
Quatre winced – apparently, he'd meant leading into that, because even Zechs knew that there was no good answer for Treize to give to that. 'His hopes for peace' would sound repetitive and trite, 'his children' self serving, and he couldn't answer with any degree of accuracy for fear of slipping his identity.
"Funny – go for funny. Play it off," Quatre instructed uneasily. "Flying his suit!" he quipped.
What Treize might have said was stalled when Marie abruptly pushed to her feet and reached for her microphone. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I won't participate in this." She shook her head. "You're asking me to speculate on the last few seconds of my father's life before his horrible, violent death!" She shook her head again. "I won't do it."
Her hand shook as she tugged the microphone free and the camera very helpfully zoomed in as she stepped away from the couch, to catch the tears in her eyes.
"Oh, hell," Quatre swore and turned for the door. Felix went with him immediately, but Zechs was caught by the drama unfolding a little much to tear himself away for few seconds.
"Milliardo!" Quatre prompted, and the King turned to join him.
It was seconds to cross the corridor, to spot Relena and Dorothy in heated debate with the studio reps and Duo standing by the door to the study, one hand firmly on Wufei's shoulder. He looked for all the world like that hand was all that was keeping the usually unflappable Asian man from slamming the door open.
Zechs wasn't sure how long Duo could have held him, but before it became an issue, the door opened, letting Marie out. She stumbled, tears spilling, smudging the makeup she was wearing for the cameras and Wufei caught her automatically. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but..."
"It's alright, Girl-child. They had no right to ask," Wufei soothed and Zechs nodded his agreement, wanting to comfort her as he hadn't really needed to for years.
"It's okay," Duo said quietly. "It'll play sympathetically. You're his daughter, it's the Anniversary and you're not in Politics or Public Office. No one'll expect you to take questioning like that. Talk to Dot and Lena in a bit; they'll help you issue a statement and it'll be fine."
Marie nodded, then crumpled, folding into Wufei's hold completely, leaving Zechs to exchange a worried look with Quatre over her head because, while Duo's words had been what she needed to hear, they weren't a good reflection of the truth. Yes, there would be some sympathy for her but that didn't change the fact that she'd just walked off camera in the middle of a live interview. It was the biggest 'blink' she could have given.
Relena hurried over as Wufei lead Marie away, looking more than a little annoyed, waiting until the studio representative had brushed past them all into the sitting room. "He's going to take it to VTR," she said bluntly. "We'll have about 3 minutes of commercials and then they'll pick back up."
Quatre nodded, looking back at her steadily. "And?" he asked, seeing something in her face.
"And they won't drop the line of questioning. The Producer says it's Brabiner's call – it's 'in his contract', apparently – but they will force him to issue an on-air apology to Marie at the top of the next section."
Zechs stared at her in disbelief. "The next section?" he asked doubtfully. "I should pull the whole thing, throw them out of my Palace and leave them with twenty minutes of dead air!"
"And say what in the morning?" Relena asked him in turn. "That you were frightened of the questions? You'd be giving them endless ammunition – you know that." She shook her head, turning back to her husband. "What do you think?"
"I think they've got something more," he said flatly, echoing his own words to Zechs. "Speculation about their relationship, speculation about suicide... they've got something to back that up. I think someone talked."
"Have they got his real identity?" Zechs whispered, glancing very carefully around before he said it. "If they have..."
Quatre and Relena exchanged another look, but eventually the younger blond shook his head. "No, I don't think so. The questioning's wrong for that. Completely wrong. This is something else." He closed his eyes, tipping his head as he thought, letting his strategist's mind loose. "I think... I think they're going for you," he said after a moment of silence. "I think this is payback for you apparently keeping Treize a secret all these years. We didn't consider it, but they might have decided that you've broken our accord with the media – you did say you thought Brabiner could be trusted," he added to Relena.
Relena bit her lip but she nodded. "He's always been tough, but never unfair."
She shrugged suddenly and looked at the study door. "But honestly, I'm less concerned about the what than the how. We have less than five minutes to decide how to handle this and who does so."
Zechs blinked at his sister, frowning as he looked down at her worriedly. "What do you mean, who does so? Are you thinking of pulling Treize out of the interview?" he wondered uneasily.
She exchanged yet another fleeting glance with her husband before answering him, her little hands twisting together in a gesture she would never have let anyone not-family see. "Not unless he really doesn't want to continue. Marie walking out was bad enough – if we pull him as well, we're as good as admitting there's truth to their story. We'd hurt his career with me as well, if we make him look like he can't handle a tough interview."
"What, then?"
"It's more case of wondering whether we should replace Marie, and, if so, with whom," Quatre explained. "Without knowing exactly where they're going to go, it's hard to know whether we should leave him be, or whether that would be asking for trouble. Did he know before tonight that you've never publicly admitted you were more than his friend?" the younger man asked bluntly.
Zechs rocked back on his heels, caught and knowing it was obvious. "No," he admitted, and winced at how guilty he sounded.
"It showed," Quatre said flatly. He shrugged. "And that's why we're wondering about someone else stepping in. He should have known that, given his story, but he didn't. It threw him," he said, gesturing at the door and, presumably, the man behind it. "It wasn't spectacularly obvious to a casual observer, but there were tells. There's no way to know what else like that there might be and how he might react. It's safer to back him up."
The King hesitated. "He's good at this," he reminded. "I know he's having to pretend a bit, but still... he's handled far worse. Won't we look like we don't trust him if one of us joins him?"
"We might. We might equally run the risk of looking like we've hung him out to dry if we don't," Relena replied softly. "He's meant to be a twenty-four year old with six weeks on my staff as his experience. We wouldn't even consider leaving Felix or Aleks alone – we should be using that as the yardstick."
That was, Zechs had to concede, an extremely good point. "If there's cover for it..." he started, because he really didn't want to leave Treize alone.
Quatre shrugged. "There is, if we do it right. It's mostly a question of who."
Zechs, who had been about to turn for the studio door, stopped at that, looking over his shoulder. "That's a question?" he asked, and his tone was quelling. "I'm perfectly prepared to..."
Quatre cut him off with a sharp look. "Yes, but that won't be happening. Even if you'd been prepped, even if you were dressed and styled, even if you weren't completely Godawful at keeping a polite face on things when you're backed into a corner, it still wouldn't be you."
The King bristled at that, his spine straightening automatically. "That's not..."
"True?" Quatre smiled at him, shrugging slightly. "Come on, Mill," he chided softly, reminding the older blond just how long and how well Quatre had known him now and why they usually got on well. He supposed there'd been a reason he hadn't murdered the man for getting his sister pregnant, after all. "You do better with the press these days because you can use Royal privilege to front most of the questions you don't want to answer. You can't do that here."
Zechs would have given half his Treasury to understand why not, but Relena was nodding so he supposed it was one of those moments that he just didn't have the political head for.
"Milliardo, I mean it." Quatre shook his head, then, unaccountably, smiled wickedly. "We don't have any idea what they've got, but if it turns out to be 'The Lightning Count does his Dictator, Part Two,' you cannot be sat next to him."
"... I beg your pardon?" Zechs choked, staring at his brother in law in horror. "What?"
There was heat touching his face and he knew it.
"Oh, yes, Your Excellency?" Relena added quietly.
Zechs's head snapped round to stare at her. "Relena!"
"Tactical Insertion: A Specials Expose," Felix interjected, from where he'd been standing by Quatre. He shrugged as he said it, but he was hiding a smile.
"Felix!"
Zechs flicked a killing look between the three of them, daring them to continue. "Nothing about this is funny!" he hissed, and missed the door opening as he did.
"Tap, Rack, Bang," Treize said quietly, behind him, and Zechs didn't need to look to know his hands had ghosted the age-old drill, clearing a stoppage in a non-existent pistol by the simple method of whacking the butt of the magazine into his free palm, cycling the slide to re-cock the gun and aiming it. His hand settled on Zechs's shoulder instead of miming firing. "And don't glare at me. I know you saw that one. 3 minutes and about 20 seconds," he said to Relena, as Zechs levelled him a merciless glare. "What were we discussing, aside from Military Pornography? Is Marie all right?" he asked, and he looked genuinely worried.
"Wufei took her back to their rooms," Relena answered swiftly, acknowledging his concern with a fleeting smile. "She'll be fine. We were discussing who replaces her, and trying to explain to my ever-stubborn brother why it couldn't be him."
"God, no. That's exactly the visual this story needs, him sitting next to me. Do you know what they've got?" Treize asked, looking now at Quatre, having dismissed the King with a rueful headshake.
"Not a clue," the smaller blond said bluntly. "I was hoping you could tell me. Is there anything you can immediately think of?"
"Without knowing what you already know about?" Treize asked. He shrugged lightly, leaning back against the door frame. "About fifty things, but..." His eyes settled on Zechs for a moment, and they were not entirely friendly. "If it is a sex tape, it's not a joint one," he said quietly. "Not that's genuine, anyway. I've no doubt they could find something of me with a sufficiently pretty blond, if they'd wanted to, but that's not news and hardly implicates Zechs." He looked away. "Your story is safe."
Zechs winced. "Treize..." he started and the redhead waved him off.
"We haven't time," he dismissed. "If they're pushing the relationship angle, not Zechs," he said evenly. "Not you, either, Princess. You're too major a figure to get involved with such a little thing, unless you're defending your brother."
Relena nodded her agreement but she looked reluctant whilst she did it, shifting her weight on her heeled feet and scowling. "Quatre?" she offered.
Treize shook his head. "Why? There's no good connection and – my apologies, Quatre, - but you're actually a worse target for 'what were you thinking during that fight?' than either I am or Zechs is."
Quatre flicked him a speculative look but he shrugged. "I was, till I saturated them with it 15 years ago, but I take your point. We're a bad synergy, in any case. I read you much too strongly, empathically. I just might react to something you weren't obviously showing."
There was a momentary silence following that, as it computed for Zechs and Felix just what Quatre had said, without saying, with that little comment, but the younger blond was moving on before they could move to do anything with it. "I'm assuming you want company?" he asked mildly.
Treize, perhaps also reacting to the off-hand comment, drew a deep breath before nodding, brushing a hand over the front of his suit nervily. "If we can make it work. I could live without the line of questioning tonight, to be frank, and I'm not convinced I know everything I should."
"2 minutes," Relena said softly.
They all glanced at each other again, leaving Felix stirring restively. "I could..." he started, and stopped when Treize shook his head immediately.
"On this topic? Absolutely not." His voice was completely flat.
"My mother?" Felix offered in his stead.
Zechs watched as Quatre and Relena exchanged yet another speaking look, wondering absently just why Treize was so adamantly against Felix, when it just might have been a nice way to divert the remainder of the interview. Treize had, after all been asked about their relationship in both interviews so far.
"Me," Wufei said quietly, his feet silent on the corridor floor, so that they all jumped. "It should be me," he added, drawing to a stop. "Marie is with Anne," he explained, answering a question no-one had yet asked. "I'm her husband, your apparent brother-in-law. I have no political position to hurt and no secrets to keep. Also," he continued mildly, "if they are foolish enough to ask what you may have been thinking, I'm uniquely qualified to answer, both personally and professionally. If it is the psychology of MOII they want, let them have it."
"Are you sure, Wufei?" Relena asked, and her voice was soft. "You never like speaking about it."
"And I will make that entirely clear, but I want that odious little toad in there to face me after trying that with Marie. Besides, the topic is not as fraught for me as once it was," he said, and there was a small smile hovering around his mouth as he said it, his dark eyes on Treize. "Yes?"
Treize shrugged. "Yes, why not. We're out of time in any case. Is there anything I should absolutely know?" he pressed, straightening up again. He looked suddenly very tired beneath the camera makeup.
Zechs shook his head, watched as Relena and Quatre did the same, and found himself wondering if there was anything else he should say or do. "Twenty minutes," he offered quietly. "It'll be done then, and I can start introducing you to some of our Christmas traditions. You'll like our..."
Treize stopped him cold by merely looking at him and shaking his head. "Can they keep?" he quizzed shortly. "Truly, Zechs, I wasn't much in the mood before and I'm definitely not now. "
The King stilled, seeing something in the back of his friend's eyes that he really didn't like, a silvery sheen as he turned his head in the corridor lights that screamed of all end of things wrong.
"Treize?" he asked, very quietly now. "You don't have to..."
The redhead cut him off with another sharp look. "Yes, I do. Cognac, Miri," he added, and his voice was almost equally soft. "Decent cognac."
It was a light enough remark to make the King relax a little, nodding his understanding. He couldn't blame the man for wanting a stiff drink – every interview Zechs gave left him feeling that way – and it was Christmas. "I can do that," he agreed.
The former commander nodded back, then slipped back through the door, leaving it open for Wufei to follow him.
The oriental man hesitated a moment, glancing over his shoulder to look at Felix with weight in his gaze, and then stepped through it, drawing it gently closed behind him.
