Mariemaia gets held up by her mathematics teacher discussing a grade on her latest quiz. As a result, most of the other students are already at lunch when she hurries through the hallways and across the courtyard. She isn't paying attention, too busy mentally calculating where she'll eat if her usual spot is taken, and suddenly she jerks back as the strap of her bag catches on something.
"Don't you know there's no running in the halls, mongrel?"
Mariemaia stumbles, managing to keep her feet and twist to see Minerva behind her, hand clenched around her bag. Larissa is next to her, arms folded and chin lifted haughtily. Mariemaia narrows her eyes, tugs at her bag. Minerva releases it suddenly and Mariemaia slips on a loose cobblestone, falling.
"So clumsy," Larissa sniffs.
"What do you want?" Mariemaia demands. She gets to her feet, feels the sting in her palms from where they'd scraped the rough stones. The left one seems superficial, but she can feel blood dripping down her right hand already.
"We just wanted to say hello. Come now, pet, don't be rude," Minerva replies, smiling.
"Right." She adjusts the strap of her bag and steps aside. "If that's all then."
"Oh, that's hardly all. I don't know what lies you told Coach, but you're going to recant all of them so Larissa and I can be back on the team."
"I didn't tell Coach anything," Mariemaia snaps. "Maybe your winning personality is what helped him catch on."
Minerva takes a step forward as the doors to the dining hall opens, the sound of raised voices momentarily deafening as one of the teachers steps out. He pauses, cup of whipped chocolate mousse in hand, and stares at them from behind a pair of oversized eyeglasses. "Ladies, shouldn't we be inside eating?"
"Of course, Dr. Arthav" Minerva says. "We were just heading in, weren't we?"
"Miss Mariemaia fell, we were helping her," Larissa adds.
Dr. Arthav's insect-like eyes fall on Mariemaia and he takes in her bleeding hands. "You two, head on in for lunch. Come along, Miss Khushrenada; let's get you to the infirmary for tending."
She watches Minerva and Larissa hurry into the dining hall and sighs. "But lunch-"
"I'll have a tray brought to you." Dr. Arthav leads the way to the administration wing and Mariemaia falls into step behind him. "Now," he says, holding the door open and eyeing Mariemaia speculatively. "How did you manage to injure your hands?"
Mariemaia shrugs. "I fell." Dr. Arthav raises one bushy eyebrow at her. "I didn't want to miss lunch."
"And Miss Pallas and Miss Zverev were…?"
"Not being helpful." Mariemaia stops outside the infirmary doors and offers the history teacher a small smile. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Arthav."
"Miss Khushrenada," he says, voice prim. "If this is in any way related to the locker incident then it may behoove you to speak with the headmistress." Mariemaia doesn't respond, just meets his gaze calmly. At length he sighs and gestures to the door. "Go and be seen to. I'll have an aide bring you your food. And remember, Miss Khushrenada, I still expect to see you in class on time today." His eyes drop to her hands once more. "Tardiness will not be overlooked because of stubborn carelessness."
"Of course, Sir."
. . ... . .
"Tough day?" Henri asks after she's buckled her seatbelt. Mariemaia glances at the front of the car in confusion. "Your hands."
"Oh, right." She shrugs out of her school jacket and flops back against the seat, stares at the white bandages wrapped around each of her palms. Complete overkill, they weren't that bad. "I slipped in the courtyard."
"Ah. Must've been a nasty fall."
"The nurse is melodramatic, there's barely a scratch." Her lips curl. "I've had worse."
She catches Henri's look in the mirror, it's something between disapproving and sympathetic. "Of course, Miss Mariemaia."
The remainder of the drive is quiet aside from the old classic rock Henri has playing through the sound system. He keeps it low and every so often Mariemaia can hear him humming along to the music. She lets herself smile before turning her attention to the window. Traffic is slow that afternoon it takes longer than usual to make it to the Preventers building downtown. Henri pulls into the garage and puts the car in park.
Mariemaia is reaching for the door handle when Henri shuts off the car. The sudden silence is startling.
"Your father had few friends, growing up," Henri states and Mariemaia stills. "He was charming and friendly, but he always kept himself separate from the others, never allowed himself to truly engage with his peers." Henri pauses, still staring at the concrete wall in front of the car. "I believe some of it had to do with his upbringing."
Mariemaia feels her heartbeat pounding, the rush of blood in her ears. Henri turns slightly so that he can meet her eyes. "Both you and your father exist in very different worlds than your peers, Miss Mariemaia. There is a price that comes with that type of existence, unfortunately. Your father was able to put his trust in someone eventually. I hope you do as well."
Mariemaia offers a nod, throat too constricted to speak. She gathers her belongings and opens the car door, steps out into the parking garage and hurries over to the entrance to the Preventers' atrium. She isn't sure what prompted Henri to speak and she needs time to sort through the emotions brought up by the mention of her father.
She hurries across the polished marble floors and slides into an elevator where a pair of Preventers have just disembarked. She presses the button for Lady Une's floor and settles in for the short ride up. The elevator comes to a stop on the third floor, the doors opening to admit three Preventers she doesn't recognize. They spare her a curious glance as they press the button for another floor.
"Chang still at it with what's-his-name?" one of the Preventers asks.
The man with the dark hair shrugs. "Last I heard. Lea said Une cleared the whole floor."
"Unprofessional," the woman sniffs. "I'm surprised Une puts up with that type of behavior."
"Eh, come on, Tobar. Remember when Chang was in charge of disciplining last year's recruits for that breach in protocol? Good times," the first Preventer comments. He breaks into a wide grin at the memory while the other two roll their eyes and laugh.
Mariemaia remains silent as they chat over her head, ignoring her. Finally they step off on the eighth floor and she presses the button for the tenth floor, curious to see what's going on. The doors open and the floor is unnervingly quiet. She makes her way carefully down the corridor, keeping an ear out for anything that sounds like gunfire or violence.
She admits that she feels surprised and disappointed when she sees the office door open and only Heero sitting inside, calmly working. She glances surreptitiously around the floor for bloodstains or a body. They wouldn't actually kill each other, would they?
"I thought you were fighting?"
"Who?"
"You and Wufei."
Heero snorts, looking up from the computer screen. "If we were fighting then there would be more blood." His eyes settle on the bandages around her hands. "What happened?"
"I fell." Mariemaia shifts her stance, glances around the office. It looks pristine, like usual. "Then why are Preventers talking about it? They said the floor was cleared because of you two. And where is Wufei?"
"Food run," Heero replies. "Come here."
She hesitates a moment before crossing the office to stand next to him. Carefully, he takes her left hand and peels back the tape on the bandage. The cuts on her palm are shallow and already scabbed over. He examines her hand before replacing the tape and reaching for her right hand. This one is deeper, gashed where her palm had caught and slipped on the pointed edge of the cobblestone. It's still oozing blood, though not as much as when the nurse had put the butterfly bandage on it at school.
"Hard fall," Heero comments.
"Sharp cobblestones," she counters.
He refastens the tape and releases her hand. "You'll have to take it easy with that hand."
She frowns, retreats to the seat by the window where she had curled up to do her homework two days ago. Heero watches her for a moment before turning back to the computer screen. Mariemaia pulls out her math book and begins to work on the assigned problems.
"Have you heard from…?" she trails off as Heero glances at her.
"Trowa?" he guesses after she remains silent. She nods and he studies her. "Can't say his name, but still want to check on him."
"It's not his name."
"It wasn't." Mariemaia frowns at the word choice, opens her mouth to protest further, but Heero's expression silences her. "Trowa isn't scheduled to check in with Preventers until the end of the week."
Her eyebrows raise. "That wasn't what I asked."
Heero smirks, turns back to the computer screen. "He won't blow his cover."
She's about to ask more when the office door opens. Wufei stands there, bag of take-away food in hand, and sighs when he sees her. "She's here. Again." His statement is addressed to Heero, even as he stares at Mariemaia.
Mariemaia sniffs. "And to think I was concerned Heero Yuy had killed you."
Wufei looks genuinely affronted and Mariemaia isn't sure if it's at the idea of her being concerned or the thought that Heero might get the upper hand. "He can dream," Wufei states finally.
He closes the door, drops one of the takeout bags on the desk Heero's working at and takes a seat at his desk. Heero glances over at Wufei, eyes marking out the strengths and weaknesses with quick precision. "You so sure, Wufei? You haven't let yourself become complacent behind that desk?"
Wufei's gaze is like steel when he meets Heero's amused expression. "The day I lose to you is the day I join Barton in that ridiculous circus."
Heero's smirk widens and Mariemaia is surprised to see a glint of genuine mischief in his eyes. "I hear they're always hiring clowns."
"Yuy," Wufei growls. He hurls a mustard packet at Heero, though his aim is wider than Mariemaia knows it should be. He slides the paper bag across the desk toward her. "There's an extra sandwich in there." His eyes drift to where Heero is unwrapping his own sandwich. "Someone thought you might show up."
Mariemaia reaches for the bag, fumbling slightly with the bandages around her hands. Wufei glances at them but doesn't comment. "Thank you," she says. She's not sure if she's thanking him for the sandwich or for not asking about her hands. Or for allowing her to stay. "So, why did Lady Une clear the floor if you two weren't fighting?"
Wufei shrugs. "The others were being loud and annoying."
"So you got Lady Une to clear the floor?" Mariemaia demands, incredulous.
Both pilots shrug simultaneously, attention focused on their sandwiches. Mariemaia holds her own sandwich and stares at them with her mouth open. She will never understand how they can get away with so much.