Dossier
Ch. 9
/AC 199 - TOKYO/
The alley-way food stall had a line, as he was warned it would.
It was supposedly the best street spot to get a popular snack. He had never tried it, but it came highly recommended by someone he met in his hostel.
Tokyo was most likely the busiest city he had ever stepped foot in on Earth.
Thousands of faceless people passed him on the nearby street while he waited in the line. Other food stalls lined the alley, just as crowded as the one he waited for. Shouts and requests mingled together to form a chaotic chorus, roaring among a backdrop of banging woks, pots, and pans.
Steam from a nearby dumpling cart obscured his vision briefly, and when it cleared, the person he met in the hostel turned from the front of the line, snacks in hand.
"Duo!" She waved when she spotted him. She trotted over to his place near the end of the line, black hair set in curls bouncing on her shoulders. Her black eyes sparkled as her smile widened. She nodded to him briefly in greeting, and handed him a package of steaming takoyaki- squid balls.
He accepted with both hands and returned the nod.
The balls were arranged two to a skewer in the parchment paper package, and were covered in a dark sauce with bonito flakes and other herbs. His mouth watered a bit, and against his better judgement - he'd never take food from strangers on a normal day - he pulled a ball off the skewer with his teeth, and into his mouth whole.
Every taste he could possibly think of greeted him in a satisfying dance. He was surprised that he liked it, his mouth was overstimulated quickly from the abundant flavor.
His new friend giggled as she watched. It annoyed him, but then he realized he was most likely being rude.
"Thanks." He nodded again at her, speaking the words in Japanese.
"No problem Duo." The half-Japanese girl smiled, speaking in the Asian language. Immediately he wanted to shake her off his tail, and go back to exploring alone. But the girl wouldn't take no for an answer. She was going to be his guide today. How she knew so much about a city she barely spent forty-eight hours in, he didn't ask. At least he had the wit to not give her his name. Or was it his codename? Whatever the name was to him, he wouldn't let her have the satisfaction of knowing it.
They spent the next hour sampling a variety of food stalls, and Heero ate his fill in udon, ramen, dumplings, and a variety of curries and other dish sets. He had never eaten this much street food in his life, but he was growing quite content with himself. He was nearing the last leg of his trans-continental journey, and he was happy that he had chosen to visit Tokyo. He had long suspected he had some amount of Japanese heritage, and his tolerance and cravings for the food seemed almost instinctual.
He polished off one last rice ball before finishing hot barley tea in one, tranquil sip. He let out a contented sigh and sat back into his high stool, barely resisting the urge to rub his abdomen in happiness. This might have been one of the most peaceful evenings of his life.
And then that annoying laughter again came from his left.
He narrowed his eyes and sneaked a glance at the half-Japanese girl seated at his left flank.
An older gentleman was flirting with her, and he was red in the face. She was trying to politely decline him while still relishing the attention.
She must have noticed Heero watching, because she flushed deeper and brought her hand to her face in an attempt to act coy.
That's when Heero noticed the unwanted flirt put something in her drink.
Before he could think to warn her, she had the glass to her lips and swallowed the amber liquid inside.
"Wait- matte!" he shouted in Japanese, kicking himself for not remembering her name and for forgetting she didn't speak any English. His knowledge of Japanese was reasonable, but he had been out of practice. She spoke Russian, and although he could manage the tongue, he was not about to out himself as a polyglot for fear of sticking out. He kept any and all other languages to himself.
He yelled at the would-be-assailant in what passersby could only describe as militant, informal and rude commands. He wasn't raised to be polite, he was raised to get work done. There was no time for honorifics or grammar while on missions.
The dirty old man yelped and vacated the stall.
"Hey!" came the gruff call from behind the counter. Heero raised his eyes to glare at the obstructor, only to be handed a slip of paper.
It was the dirty old man's bill.
Whatever he had slipped her, it had made quick work of his target. The annoying girl was out within seconds, slumped over the counter of the food stall.
So much for a peaceful evening. Heero sighed to himself, resigning to pull a wad of cash out of the pocket of his tight black jeans, and pay for three meals instead of one.
The walk back to the hostel was mortifying. Every few meters he was met with both cheering hoots from passing men, to concerned whispers from other folk, who had decided not to approach them, no matter how concerned they really were.
This nameless girl could hardly stand, and Heero couldn't bring himself to lift her in his arms. No, that wouldn't be right.
But why wasn't it right? Why did that idea feel wrong to him?
Relena.
It always came back to her.
Not too long before the Mariemaia Incident, he had carried her after she fell from a balcony. It was a miracle she had only twisted her ankle, and not broken her neck.
He felt a pang of guilt in his stomach then. He had neglected to answer her last email to him, which he had received when he first arrived in Japan three days prior. And here he was, dragging some unconscious, nameless girl back to his hostel.
He had been away from Relena for nearly a year, and she was paying for most of his trip. This sure was some way to repay her. Heero felt like the worst friend in the world.
He approached the women's dorm in the hostel and deposited his unconscious tour guide with her curious, equally-annoying gaggle of friends, and made his way to the men's dorm.
He collapsed into his bunk, pulling his unruly hair into an elastic band, securing it in a top knot. It was getting too long for his taste, and too noticeable. He'd have to get it cut tomorrow.
He pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket and finally settled in to answer Relena's email.
'Dear Heero,
I miss you. I hope Japan is wonderful. I can't wait to hear about everything you've been able to see and do.
Make sure you hit the night market for some food. You won't regret it. Enjoy!
- Relena.'
He smiled, staring at her name. How long had he planned on being gone? But could he just call her, and book a ticket to Brussels? What he wouldn't give to steal an empty plane or stoaway on a flight to return to Europe early and surprise her.
He grimaced a bit.
Those were war time methods. Heero didn't need to lurk in the shadows any longer. Relena had helped him to see that.
He still wanted to surprise her. He'd just have to figure out a way to get himself to her without doing anything illegal.
"Dear Relena...
I miss you too."
/Present day/
At some point in the night, they had tangled themselves in each others' arms and legs while they slept.
Heero awoke from what felt like the deepest sleep he'd had in years.
She was still there in his bed, now cradled in his arms; her golden hair splayed against him, bangs wavy, a light sheen of sweat visible on her forehead.
He leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. He hadn't felt this at peace in a very long time.
She shifted in his arms, eyes blinking open slowly.
"Is this a dream?" she mumbled.
"Its possible." he replied, running his palms over arms. He blushed at the sight of her naked flesh.
She moaned and snuggled in, exhaling.
"Five more minutes..." she sighed. The golden light peaking through his blinds framed her in a radiant glow.
She could have been born from sunshine.
Sunshine.
"Uh-oh..." he mumbled.
"I'm late for work aren't I?"
"The sun is up. So ...yes we both are."
She moaned and rolled away from him, lazily moving to get out of bed.
But he reached for her and held her in his arms, squeezing her gently.
"Thank you." he whispered into her hair. She snaked her arms around his waist, and they stole their five more minutes.
Heero walked Relena to her office, as he did on days he did not leave her home early for work.
But this walk was a little different.
Her walk was a little bit different.
He stiffened.
She was walking differently. Or rather, he noticed her walk for the first time. The soft sway of her hips, handle of a large leather purse resting on the crook of her elbow, other hand carrying a latte with a sense of purpose.
This was her business walk.
He liked it.
Perhaps it was his knowledge of what lay beneath her charcoal gray pantsuit that made the sight utterly, sexy. Or perhaps she truly was walking differently, confidence exuding after their night in bed. He smiled to himself. Could he really have that effect on her? He couldn't stop smiling. He couldn't believe anyone would ever want or need anything from him. If only she knew how much he truly needed her.
He exhaled, content.
"Ah Miss Relena! You're a bit late this morning...Oh good morning Commander!" Her assistant yelped from a desk in the Foreign Affairs lobby.
"Yes well...there was an extra long line at the drive-thru this morning, and I absolutely had to have my latte. Isn't that right Heero?" Heero raised his own paper to-go cup, as if offering evidence to her assistant.
"Hn...you know how she is Helen- how she gets when she doesn't get what she wants." He purred. He didn't mean to come off any sort of way, but he couldn't prevent the way it came out, like a sensual growl. Immediately his face colored. Relena turned to him, gawking. Her assistant pressed her lips in a thin line, trying not to laugh.
He immediately nodded his head, and turned to make his way to his office.
Special Projects was located not far away, as per Heero's request. Since he worked overtime (and got paid for it too) as Relena's home detail, he requested that his department be just down the hall from hers. Special Projects worked so often with Foreign Affairs, that it seemed to make sense. A department full of diplomats down the hall from the department overseeing secret intelligence and security? In the After Colony era, it was a no-brainer.
He brought his hand up to the thumbpad lock on his door, and entered his six-digit code. The door beeped and vibrated, opening on its own. He flicked the light on, and set his coffee down on the lacquered desk. He removed his commander jacket and dropped it onto the back of his chair, taking a seat and removing his computer from his leather laptop bag.
But then he noticed something odd on his desk- a white envelope, marked in pencil with the letter 'H'.
"Dearest baby H.
There was a time, I would share my toys with you.
There is so much more for us to share.
I can share again, but I need something from you first.
After all, its only fair.
I'd like to learn more about Mars. Can you share what she knows with me?
Come alone. Same place as before.
- Another Clark"
Heero let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.
Another Clark?
a/n
Hey all! Getting back to the plot here. I love reading what you all think is coming next! I do consider it when I write :) I have some crazy stuff in the works. I've been toying with writing a fun chapter about Heero and Relena's lemony freshness scene again, but from her perspective. What do you all think?
Thanks again for the support!
~murshmallow