On Tuesday, Mariemaia squares her shoulders and marches down the stairs at Preventers and into the basement level. She pushes through the locker room door and makes her way to her usual locker. Yesterday had been a moment of unexpected weakness. She still wasn't sure why she had expected Trowa Barton to be loitering around waiting for her when the ex-pilot had clearly said he wouldn't be. She also wasn't completely sure why she had wandered upstairs to do her homework in Wufei's office of all places.
Clearly, it had been an off day.
Today though, today would be back to normal. Her normal. The normal that she had worked hard to achieve over the past few months. Before a bored Gundam pilot decided to take a try at being a swim coach. She rolls her eyes at the thought and slams her locker shut, spins the lock and gives it an experimental tug to confirm its secure. She grabs her towel off the bench and makes her way into the underground pool area, already running through what she wants to work on.
She stumbles to a stop when she sees Heero Yuy standing there, scowling in her direction.
"What are you doing here?"
"It's Tuesday."
She blinks at him dumbly.
Heero rolls his eyes and inclines his head toward the starting block at the end of the pool. "Don't tell me you've gotten lazy already."
Mariemaia narrows her eyes. She drops her towel on one of the benches and folds her arms across her chest. She shivers as the air conditioning unit kicks on, feels the cold creeping up her feet from the cement floors. "Why do you care?"
Heero has the audacity to smirk at that. "Would you rather it be Wufei?"
"I was just wondering if you'd been exiled for bad behavior again," she sniffs. She brushes past him to the starting block, feels him watching her as she gets into position.
"I could shoot you."
"You tried that before, remember?" she asks, flashing him a smile with too many teeth. It's one of the ones she's seen Dorothy flash pushy politicians and handsy gentlemen.
"I do." His hands are gentler than she expects when they press down and back on her shoulders, getting her into position. She glances up at him in surprise, but he simply pushes head down. "Take your mark."
. . ... . .
Heero doesn't focus as much on getting her off the block this time. Instead, he watches her swim laps and do her turns over and over again. Mariemaia's lungs are burning, her muscles trembling, by the time they reach the hour mark. Heero watches her critically, gaze clinical and detached as she cuts through the water, gasping in air every other stroke.
Her right leg seizes and she falters, loses rhythm, and stops. The only sound in the pool room is the sloshing of the displaced water and her ragged breathing. She hates how loud it sounds, echoing in the empty chamber.
"How long were you in physical therapy for?" Heero questions.
"What?"
"Your physical therapy, how long did you do it for?"
She looks up at where Heero is crouching on the side of the pool. He looks like a gargoyle, she thinks. His expression is unreadable, his eyes intense as they stare at her. She shrugs. "A few years. It started off super mild because the surgeon said I wouldn't walk again." She rolls her eyes and offers a self-satisfied smile. "I showed him." Her eyes flit back to Heero's. "Why?"
"The right leg, it's nerves not just musculoskeletal?"
"The tremble?" Her eyes narrow. "Did you hack my medical records?" Her voice sounds more scandalized than it should be, she imagines. She's heard Duo Maxwell's stories about Heero hacking his accounts, and Lady Une's own mutterings about Heero getting into restricted databases.
"No," he replies.
She isn't sure if she believes him. She treads water, reaching down to massage her leg and try to get the pain to lessen. Heero settles there, beside the pool, arms draped over his knees, as he watches her. She feels like bug under a magnifying glass, or a bacterium under one of those microscope slides.
"Why?"
"If it's the nervous system then it may never fully return to normal, no matter the therapy you do." Her eyes narrow at him. It sounds suspiciously like what her first doctor had told her, when she'd still been wheelchair bound and recovering from the first surgery. "You should build up your arms more, get more forward pull in the water to make up for the weakened leg."
"I'm not weak."
"I don't remember saying you were." He pushes up from his crouch, stretches and rolls his shoulders. "That's enough rest, get up and try the block again."
. . ... . .
Afterwards, she changes into the spare clothes she brought with her, and dries her hair as best she can with her towel. The ends curl along her shoulders and drip down the back of her shirt. She shivers, grabs her bag, and exits the locker room. Heero has disappeared already. Mariemaia isn't sure what to make of the training session or the sudden inquiries into her medical history. She rolls her shoulders, remembering his comment about building up the strength in her arms.
She takes the stairs to the atrium and looks around the polished rotunda. The Preventer at the front desk looks bored and as Mariemaia passes she catches the soap opera playing in a corner of the screen. She snorts. If Lady Une caught that security breach the Preventer would be dressed down immediately, and possibly exiled to a post on one of the outer colony clusters.
Mariemaia sidesteps the Preventers exiting the elevators and steps in just as the doors are sliding closed. She hits the button for Lady Une's floor and bounces on her toes, tries to rub warmth back into her chilled arms. Her right leg has settled into a dull throb extending from the back of her knee to the base of her spine. It had been worse, when she was younger, but she has to wonder if it will ever completely go away. She kneads her fingers into her lower vertebrae and thinks of her grandfather.
She tries not to think about Dekim too much, doesn't want to give him that dignity, but it's hard to ignore memories of him when her leg bothers her. It's the last gift he gave her, and she thinks it'll be the one that lasts the longest. Her reflection in the polished metal doors frowns back at her, eyebrows knit together and mouth a thin line. She's just managed to smooth it into one of her politely blank ones when the elevator chimes and the doors slide open.
A tall man with light brown hair is standing on the other side of the doors. He stares down a thin nose at her and his lip twitches as though suppressing a smirk or a snarl. Behind him are two men dressed in dark gray Kevlar. Mariemaia raises her eyebrows as she takes them in. It isn't often that someone with private security is allowed into Preventers.
"Minister Yergin," she greets. The man continues to stare at her and she tilts her chin up. "If you wouldn't mind stepping aside, I'd like to leave the elevator."
"Of course," he replies. His voice is deep and smooth like velvet. Mariemaia returns his stare with one of her own and the man finally steps to the side, his personal guards mirroring his movements. "I would hate to hinder the infamous Mariemaia Barton."
Mariemaia feels herself bristle as she steps off the elevator and onto the polished wood. The doors slide shut behind her. "Khushrenada, actually," she replies smoothly.
"A smart move, distancing yourself from the traitor Dekim Barton." Mariemaia doesn't respond and a moment later Minister Yergin presses the call button once again. "A pleasure, Miss Khushrenada."
"Undoubtedly."
She sidesteps his security and wanders slowly down the hallway. She keeps her shoulders straight and low, gait unhurried, until she hears the elevator chime and the doors close with a soft hiss. She glances over her shoulder to see the elevator bank empty and then quickens her pace down the hallway to Lady Une's office. Zoe is sitting at her desk, angrily stabbing at the keys on her computer and scowling at the computer monitor.
"Is Lady Une free?" Mariemaia questions.
Zoe glances up, expression smoothing into a friendly smile. "I didn't hear you come in, Miss Mariemaia. You have impeccable timing, she's just finished her last meeting for the day." Her gaze sweeps over Mariemaia's leggings and t-shirt, the schoolbag hanging off her shoulder. "I imagine you're ready to head home, huh?"
"Yeah," she agrees.
She smiles pleasantly as she bypasses Zoe's desk and head's for the door to Lady Une's office. She knocks once before trying the knob and pushing the door open. Lady Une glances up as she enters, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. She waves her in.
"Of course. Yes…" Mariemaia closes the door behind her and wanders over to stare out the window. The sun is beginning to set and the sky is turning a brilliant rose and orange color. She thinks it should clash more than it does. "I understand the issue, however the Minister is holding out on us. There simply isn't a way that…Yes, that's what I thought as well. Have we had a check-in?"
Mariemaia glances over at her guardian but Lady Une is focused on the computer screen, clicking the mouse periodically. She has her reading glasses on again, hair braided and pinned back in a thick coil. It reminds Mariemaia of the photos she'd seen in her history book. If her guardian swapped her blue blazer for a maroon military jacket, Mariemaia could imagine her in the control room for an impending battle.
Lady Une lifts her eyes, frowning as Mariemaia reaches for a peppermint from the bowl on her desk. "You'll ruin your supper. No, not you, Noin. Mariemaia is here."
Mariemaia shrugs. "It's just one," she protests. "Hi, Miss Noin."
"Mariemaia says hello." A pause. "And Noin says hello back." She waves a hand dismissively and Mariemaia grins as she unwraps the peppermint and pops it into her mouth. She palms another one when her guardian is distracted, frowning at the computer again. "Alright, keep me posted then. And tell Heero I want a report on Egan by tomorrow. Have a good night."
She hangs up the phone, clicks a few more commands on the keyboard, and then turns her attention to Mariemaia. "I saw you take the second one."
"I don't know what you're talking about." She leans forward, pulling back one of the silver balls of the Newton's cradle and then releasing it. It clacks against the other balls. "What's going on? Who's Egan?"
"Eavesdropping?"
"You invited me in," Mariemaia counters. "I can't be held accountable for what I overhear." Lady Une sighs, leaning back in her chair. She looks tired, Mariemaia thinks. "I saw Minister Yergin. Is that who you and Miss Noin were discussing?"
Lady Une blows out a breath, reaches up to unpin her hair. "Yes," she agrees. Her gaze falls on Mariemaia. "Did he say anything?"
She shrugs, crunches on the peppermint in her mouth. "Nothing I haven't heard before." She taps her fingers against the armrest. "He seems…squirrely."
"I told you Dubiel was preferable," Lady Une sighs. She pushes up from her desk, gathering reports together and adding them to her briefcase. "Are you ready to go, it's been a long day."
"I'm ready," Mariemaia agrees, patting her bag.
Lady Une powers down her computer, closes her briefcase, and flips off the desk light. Mariemaia gets to her feet, snagging another peppermint as she trails her guardian to the door. Lady Une gives her an amused look but Mariemaia maintains her carefully blank expression. Zoe glances up as they exit the office.
"Go home, Zoe. I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, Ma'am, Miss Mariemaia."
It isn't until they're in the elevator that Lady Une seems to register Mariemaia's still-damp hair. "How was practice?" she asks.
Mariemaia shrugs. "Alright." She pauses. "Heero Yuy was there." She catches Lady Une's surprised look in the reflection of the polished doors.
"That's good," her guardian replies finally. "I'm glad he's still helping you."
Mariemaia shrugs, bites at a hangnail on her thumb. Her leg still throbs dully and she still feels unsettled from her encounter with the Trade Minister. She glances at her guardian, notices the tired slump to her shoulders and the dark circles peeking through the concealer she'd put on that morning.
"He threatened to send Wufei instead," she huffs.
Lady Une laughs as the elevator stops on their floor, doors opening. "I'm not sure either of you would survive that partnership."
"You're my guardian," she grouses. "I'm glad you can talk so cavalierly about my potential death."
"If it makes you feel better, his punishment would be training the junior agents."
Mariemaia rolls her eyes, suppressing her own smile, and trails Lady Une across the atrium to where Henri is waiting outside. She keeps the limp out of her step, forcing herself to take small, slow steps to mask it, and pushes thoughts of the Minister from her mind. All she wants to do is run a hot bath and crawl into bed.