Mariemaia takes a long shower, enjoying the way the hot water relaxes her exhausted muscles. Her hair is stiff from the chlorine and she has to use extra conditioner on it to get it back to normal. After her shower, she wanders around her room aimlessly. She can hear a news station on downstairs, the reporters' voices echoing up the stairs.
She ignores her homework, flips a couple pages in a photo album, and pauses when she catches a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror. The mirror in her bathroom had been covered in a thin film of condensation from the steam and she hadn't bothered to wipe it off. Now she can see the way her wet hair sticks to her skin, the red color stark against her pale skin. Her eyes have dark circles around them, her bottom lip is chapped from where she keeps chewing at it. She frowns at her reflection, lets her gaze shift to the photo of Leia and her, the news article of her Uncle Trowa.
She wonders if they would be proud of her if they'd seen her today. Almost as soon as the thought enters her mind, she pushes it aside. It doesn't matter, they aren't here to see her.
Huffing out a breath, she descends the stairs and follows the sounds to the living room. Trowa is sprawled across one of the sofas, eyes fixed to the television screen. Mariemaia blinks at him in surprise. It's the most relaxed she thinks she's ever seen one of the Gundam pilots. Aside from that time she'd accompanied Lady Une to the hospital and seen Duo Maxwell high on painkillers for breaking his arm. But that was different.
"You're hovering."
Mariemaia shrugs, crosses the room to curl up in the overstuffed armchair. "Where's Heero?"
"Perimeter check." Trowa glances at her, eyebrows raised. "Did you need something?"
"So, you are guarding me."
Trowa lowers the volume on the television so that the report about the Trade Federation's visit fades to a dull murmur. "Lady Une asked that we stay with you until she got home."
Mariemaia narrows her eyes, trying to parse out whether Trowa is lying or obfuscating, but the man gives nothing away. She crosses her arms. "Then why the perimeter check?"
"I don't like surprises." She jumps, looking at the archway to see Heero leaning against the wooden frame, surveying her and Trowa. She hadn't heard him approach, though Trowa looks unconcerned. "I thought you were going to bed."
"I'm twelve," she replies shortly, "I can stay up past nine."
Heero frowns at her and she tilts her chin up, trying her best to imitate one of Dorothy's disdainful looks. He shakes his head, pushes off from the archway and crosses the room. Trowa shifts on the sofa, pulling his legs in and Heero sits down in the empty space. He turns his attention back to Mariemaia, eyebrows raised questioningly.
"What's happening with the Trade Federation?" Mariemaia asks. She shifts on the chair, draws her legs up and rests her chin on her folded knees.
"They aren't very good at managing their shipments," Heero replies. He scowls at Trowa when Trowa's foot connects with Heero's thigh. "That's a discussion for you and Une."
"She won't tell me anything," Mariemaia protests. "Just says that things are being handled, but they aren't, are they?" Her eyes shift to Trowa. "You're going back undercover, aren't you?"
She watches as the ex-pilots exchange a look. "Yes," Trowa answers finally.
He doesn't elaborate and she isn't sure which of her questions he's answering. She wraps her arms around her legs, heaves a sigh. "Is there another rebellion?"
Heero tilts his head, studies her quietly. "No."
"Just the usual criminal activity," Trowa adds.
She stares at them, tries to believe them. She can't figure out why Lady Une would send an ex-Gundam pilot undercover for something so mundane as criminal activity though. Heero holds his hand out and Trowa passes him the remote. He flips through the channels before finally settling on the classic movie channel.
Mariemaia shifts slightly, turning her attention to the television and the old movie playing. She curls further into the chair, letting her head rest against the arm. The room is quiet aside from the soft voices from the television.
. . ... . .
She wakes to light shining in her face. Yawning, she reaches up a hand to scrub at her face before she blinks her eyes open. She's lying in her bed and the sun is spilling through her open curtains. She frowns. The last thing she remembers is watching an old movie in the living room. She has no recollection of making her way upstairs to bed.
Pushing herself up, she stumbles out of her room and down the stairs. The grandfather clock in the foyer shows that it's eight in the morning. Mariemaia makes her way to the kitchen to scrounge around for food. There's a plate of fresh muffins sitting on the counter and she picks one up, biting into it. Through the window she can see Lady Une outside.
Mariemaia makes her way to the mudroom, pulls on her boots, and steps outside. It's a warm, cloudless morning. She wanders over to where Lady Une is crouched in the vegetable garden, weeding the carrots. Her guardian looks up as her shadow approaches.
"Good morning," Lady Une greets. "I see you found the muffins."
"Yeah," Mariemaia replies. She rubs at her cheek, still feeling slightly fuzzy from sleep. "When did you get home?"
"Around midnight, you were already sacked out in bed." Lady Une turns back to her weeding. "How was the swim meet?"
"It was alright," Mariemaia replies. "I got fourth in the individual, but I would've been fifth if there wasn't a disqualification." She pauses, takes another bite of her muffin. "We did get second in the relay."
"That's fantastic." Lady Une smiles up at her. "Hand me that spade, please."
Mariemaia grabs the spade from the small gardening box, handing it over to Lady Une. "How did the meeting go?"
"We've come up with a plan of action at last," she says, voice grimmer than it was a moment ago. "Honestly, I know I used to complain about Minister Dubiel, but I'd take him over Yergin any day."
"That's because all you had to do was unbutton a couple buttons and bat your lashes and Dubiel would do what you asked," Mariemaia replies. Lady Une levels a look at her and Mariemaia shrugs, unapologetic. "It's true."
"That may be so, but you know I don't like hearing you talk like that."
Mariemaia shrugs again and sits down on a patch of grass. "Are Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton off guard duty?" she asks, voice bright. Lady Une looks up at her. Mariemaia takes a large bite of her muffin, pretending not to notice.
"I wasn't aware they were on guard duty," she replies, voice even.
"Would you tell me if they were?"
Lady Une sits back, pulling off her gardening gloves and wiping at her forehead. Mariemaia stares back at her evenly. "Is it so hard for you to believe in people being honest?"
"I haven't had a good track record with honesty."
She sees the brief flash of hurt in Lady Une's eyes and feels a momentary pang of regret for her words. "Be that as it may, I have not lied to you, Mariemaia. If you remember, you're the one who asked if Trowa could be the one to bring you home."
"Because you said it would be Juergensen!" Mariemaia crosses her arms and stares at the carrots in front of her. "She watches trashy reality television and talks to much. And every time she looks at me she looks so sad. It's disgusting."
She hears Lady Une move, but keeps her focus on the carrots. A moment later her guardian crouches next to her on the grass, her hand tentatively reaches out to touch her shoulder. "Marie, what is it?"
She scowls harder, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. "Don't call me that."
Lady Une takes a seat next to her, wraps an arm around Mariemaia's shoulders. Mariemaia plucks idly at the grass beneath her, feels the warmth of the sun on the back of her neck, feels sweat break out from where Lady Une's arm rests heavily along her back. The garden is quiet except for the buzz of insects and the whippoorwill call of birds.
"If you hadn't had the meeting with Yergin, would you have come?" she asks finally. She hates the ache she can hear in her own voice, the needy tone like an exposed nerve.
"Of course I would have. Why would you think I wouldn't?" She shrugs but Lady Une just tightens her grip, pulls her in until her head is resting against Lady Une's shoulder. "Talk to me, Mariemaia."
"Why would you want to?" she counters. She plucks more grass free, lets them go in the small breeze. "Everyone either hates me, fears me, or pities me. Your whole job is keeping threats at bay and you took in public enemy number one."
"I took in the daughter of my commanding officer because I know he'd want a better life for her," Lady Une replies, voice firm.
Mariemaia closes her eyes, nods, and sits up, pulling away from Lady Une's grasp. "So, I'm an obligation." She brushes the dirt off her hands on her pajama bottoms. "It's okay." And it is. She's wondered for five years why Lady Une had willingly taken her on and a sense of duty was something she could understand, could respect.
"You aren't an obligation, Mariemaia." Lady Une grabs her by the shoulders, turns her so that they're facing each other. Mariemaia blinks at the furious expression on Lady Une's face. "You were seven years old when Dekim Barton nearly killed you because he had filled your head with idiotic fantasies. I saw a scared, lonely little girl and I wanted to try and give her a better life, the kind of life I know her father would have wanted for her. You have never been public enemy number one."
Mariemaia lets her guardian pull her into a hug, feels Lady Une's chin dig into the top of her head slightly as she tightens her grip. After a moment, Mariemaia allows herself to wrap her arms around her guardian and return the hug.