Disclaimer: Standard.
Author's Notes: Thanks for everything;)
****
Some Kind of Wonderful
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies, don't you want somebody to love, don't you need somebody to love, wouldn't you love somebody to love, you better find somebody to love." -Jefferson Airplane
****
One year later
Washington D.C.
October 1967
"Oh my god..." Relena stuck her head out of the chartered bus window. Her waist-long blond hair flew around in the strong, cool wind, only held in check by the little braids that wound a crown around her head. "I have never seen so many people in my entire life!!"
Laughing, Quatre pulled her back into her seat. "I told you everyone who's anyone was going to be here."
Across the aisle, Duo winked at his best friend. "The social event of the war, princess."
Relena's eyes shone with sheer excitement. "I know it's been on the board for months, but I had no idea it was going to be so big..." She raised her hand and formed a peace sign. "NC State to Washington!!"
The cry was echoed throughout the jam-packed bus. Quatre put his arm around Relena, kissing her forehead. "You never cease to amaze me," he whispered.
She swallowed, managing only a weak smile in return. Her eyes darted over to Duo, but he was caught up in a conversation with a pretty junior History major, and for once wasn't paying attention.
Ever since Duo had moved to campus and joined the SDS, he had made it perfectly clear that he was wary of Quatre Winner, especially his motives towards Relena. Often, he took on a chaperone's role, bailing Relena out whenever he felt Quatre was getting too close.
But lately, Quatre was becoming more blatant. He wanted her and he was no longer even trying to hide it. Relena's stomach churned. Quatre was smart, talented, a great friend and an amazing leader. They believed in the same things; she would be lying if she said she didn't find him physically attractive. But...
*Heero.*
Relena's eyes closed. The mere thought of him had the power to sneak up on her and render her completely speechless. And once he was in her head, there was no escaping the memories. Holding hands on the playground, sipping sodas at the diner...his lips on hers in a chaste kiss, his hand on her breast, his body on top of hers as they made love...
She ached for him still.
"Oh...we're here!" Relena announced as the bus slowed to a stop. Subtly taking Quatre's hand, she unwound his arm from her shoulders. "Come on! We don't want to miss a minute!"
Quatre chuckled as she climbed over him. "If the rest of bourgeouise America had half the energy and conviction as Relena, every soldier would be on his way home," he told Duo.
The braided man nodded. "That's one of the reasons she and Heero are so good for each other. They both have conviction."
"I'm sure," Quatre replied evenly. He smiled at Duo. "Can you oversee the tent situation? I don't trust the English majors to have any idea how to set one up."
"I'm on it." Winking, Duo shuffled off the bus and stepped down into the crowds of people, vans, buses and caravans gathered in the wide open space surrounding D.C.'s Mall. He came up behind Relena; she was standing still, staring at the towering presence of the Washington Monument.
Duo put a hand to his eyes to shield the late-day sun. "I've always thought the Monument looked like a huge..."
Relena turned her head, laughing. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She played with the end of one of the braids that hung over her shoulder. "Duo...about Quatre..." With a sigh, she stopped.
"What is it, princess?"
She released the thin braid. "What am I going to do about him?"
"I think..." Duo reached for her hand. "You need to do whatever that huge heart of yours tells you is right."
Relena lowered her gaze to the pavement. "I can't do that, Duo. It wants something I can't have."
"Ah, princess..." He pulled her against his side, squeezing her shoulder. "Why don't you write to him? Fix all of this? After so long..."
"It's exactly because it's been so long that I can't." Relena looked up at her best friend's handsome face. "He's moved on by now."
Duo shook his head. "He hasn't moved anywhere, princess."
A good ways away, Quatre was instructing a group of freshmen in how exactly to place NC State's banners around their campsite. Relena watched him for a long second. The dying sunlight turned his blond hair gold; his smile was so warm that she could feel it despite the distance between them.
"Maybe I have."
****
Hollywood
"Are you there, Miss Schbeiker?"
"Um..." Hilde put a hand to her forehead and tightened her grip on the heavy phone. "Yes, I'm here. Could you just....could you repeat what you just said...please?"
The man on the other end laughed. "I said you made it in, Miss Schbeiker. Welcome to the U.S.O!"
Hilde shook her head. What the man was saying was practically incomprehensible. The audition had just been a fluke, something to do on a rainy day. A little bit of dancing, some meager singing...nothing like the acting-intense casting calls she had gone to and failed for the past two years. Yet this time, she had made it. She, Hilde Schbeiker, was being asked to join the U.S.O.
"I...don't know what to say..."
"You don't have to say anything. Just show up at the studio on Monday morning, ready to work." The casting agent paused. "This is the part where I ask you....are you sure you understand what you're agreeing to do, Miss Schbeiker?"
She licked her lips. "I'll be...in a show. For the soldiers in Vietnam. With Bob Hope..."
"Well...it's a little more involved than that. You're not just taping a show, Miss Schbeiker. You'll be performing it live. In Vietnam."
"Excuse me?"
"That's what the U.S.O. does, Miss Schbeiker. Provide entertainment for the soldiers serving overseas. We've been a proud, American tradition since World War Two, and our performances have included some of the biggest names in entertainment, including Marilyn..."
Hilde let him continue to speak, only half listening. She was going to Vietnam. It was a little too much to take in right away.
"...and then after the month of rehearsals, we'll be flying the whole company to Saigon. The Christmas show is the biggest deal for our boys, Miss Schbeiker. We only hire performers of the highest quality, because our troops deserve the best. Don't you agree?"
She swallowed. "Of course."
"Good. Well then, we'll see you first thing on Monday?"
"I'll be there," Hilde replied. "And thank you. Thank you so much."
"You'll do just fine." With a click, the casting agent hung up. As soon as the line was dead, Hilde stood up in her tiny, dingy apartment and let out a cry of pure joy. She had a job, a real, highly respected job. She was going to travel with this job. True, she'd be traveling to a war zone, but at least she was going somewhere. And for a long time, Hilde had been convinced she was going absolutely nowhere.
****
Washington D.C.
"See, there's a right way and a wrong way to handle one of these. I'm gonna show you the right way." Duo struck a match on a rock. Cupping his hand around the freshly rolled joint between his lips, he lit the end and blew out a puff of smoke. "First...the inhale. It has to be slow, but steady. Like this."
There was laughter from the other NC State protesters, gathered around the bonfire. Relena shook her head in amusement as she watched Duo's show. Once the joint was lit, Duo held it between the very tips of his thumb and forefinger and took a deep drag, his cheeks sucking inward with the effort.
"Congratulations, you're stoned!" someone on the other side of the fire yelled out. He was rewarded with more laughter. Even Duo had to exhale some of the smoke through his nose in order to laugh.
Relena's hands rubbed her arms to ward off goosebumps; the fall night had grown quite cold, and her light blouse, shawl and long, full skirt were doing nothing to keep her warm.
Suddenly, a thick blanket was draped over her shoulders. She looked up into Quatre's sea-breeze eyes. "Thank you."
"You looked cold," he said, sitting down next to her. He glanced over at Duo who was passing the joint to the same History major he had been chatting up on the bus, Rebecca. "This is one of those nights that I think I'll remember for the rest of my life."
Relena tilted her head to the side to see him better. "Why's that?"
"Well...for one thing, we're out here with thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of people who are totally committed to ending this war. Don't you feel the sense of community? Of purpose?"
She smiled and nodded. "I do."
"Secondly, but perhaps more importantly..." Quatre looked at her; his eyes held nothing back. "I'm here with you."
Long moments passed between them. Relena's tongue darted out, moistening her lips. Just when she was starting to doubt his intentions, Quatre leaned forward and kissed her.
Relena had kissed two men in her life. Heero and a random boy during a junior high game of Spin the Bottle. This kiss was like neither of them. Her eyes closed when Quatre's tongue parted her lips. His mouth was warm, comfortable, unlike the fire and spice of Heero's kisses.
His hand cupped the back of her head and tangled in her hair as they kissed, oblivious of the others around them. It was only when Relena felt a hard tap on her back that she broke the kiss. There were hoots and cat-calls from the students, shouts of encouragment and congratulations. Relena's cheeks burned hotter than the fire.
Quatre held up his hands. "All right...show's over. Someone hand me that thing." He reached out for the circling joint.
Relena's guilty eyes darted to Duo. He was watching her very carefully, clearly not stoned enough to let the kiss slip by without notice. Mortified, Relena pulled Quatre's blanket closer around her body.
When Quatre passed her the joint a minute later, she inhaled deeply. The sweet smell of the marijuana, coupled with the happy fog it created over her mind, was more than enough to erase the lingering pressure of Quatre's kiss...and the invading image of Heero's face.
****
Vietnam
Nights were the worst. He didn't mind the endless days spent crossing rice paddies, hills, walking through villages, ducking and covering. More than a year in the jungle had honed his skills to a point so fine, he could smell a sniper long before the first bullet was fired. The days were bearable. He could control them, control himself and his thoughts. His hands were never empty during the day.
But at night, on patrol, far away from the nearest American base, everything changed. Unable to see through the dark, moonless nights when the rain poured down so hard the drops actually bruised his skin, Heero was completely vulnerable. He rarely slept, but when he did, he woke every hour, to make sure he was still alive.
Most of his nights were spent sitting in the mud, listening to the other members of his patrol talking, eating, desperately trying to relax. He joined them ever so often, and listened to the endless stories about families back home, girlfriends who perfumed their letters, whores in Saigon who would do absolutely anything for an American dollar.
And when the whole camp was asleep, mostly in pairs, sitting up back to back, Heero would still be awake, leaning against either Wufei or Trowa, clutching his AK-47. His eyes would be on the restless jungle that surrounded them, choking them, but his thoughts were very far away. In a warm, clean bed with a sated, pliable Relena curled up against him.
That particular night was no different. Wufei's back was pressed to his, its owner asleep and lightly snoring. Heero's own eyes were closed, indulging in a memory. A rare moment with his guard down. His lips were dancing down the inside of Relena's soft, supple thigh towards the center of her body. He smiled suddenly; it had been months since he had smiled.
The first shot fired came from out of the jungle, the sound was like a slap across the face. It was enough to wake the whole camp, but not enough warning to stave off the attack. Relena quickly faded from Heero's mind as every survival instinct took over his entire body.
He could vaguely hear Wufei barking out instructions; he could just make out the outline of Trowa's body in the red-orange light from a dozen weapons firing all around them. He raised his own weapon, pointed towards the jungle, the dark, dangerous maze of vegetation, and fired. Shot after shot, he kept on, unsure if he was actually hitting anything.
Sharp pain in his side was ignored, as was the warmth of blood soaking his uniform to his body. His mouth was open, corded with the effort it took to scream, a primal cry that was neither pain nor sorrow. Only the sudden flash of light, the warmth of the explosion all around him, and the cold mud against his cheek, wiped away the night.
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: Thanks for everything;)
****
Some Kind of Wonderful
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies, don't you want somebody to love, don't you need somebody to love, wouldn't you love somebody to love, you better find somebody to love." -Jefferson Airplane
****
One year later
Washington D.C.
October 1967
"Oh my god..." Relena stuck her head out of the chartered bus window. Her waist-long blond hair flew around in the strong, cool wind, only held in check by the little braids that wound a crown around her head. "I have never seen so many people in my entire life!!"
Laughing, Quatre pulled her back into her seat. "I told you everyone who's anyone was going to be here."
Across the aisle, Duo winked at his best friend. "The social event of the war, princess."
Relena's eyes shone with sheer excitement. "I know it's been on the board for months, but I had no idea it was going to be so big..." She raised her hand and formed a peace sign. "NC State to Washington!!"
The cry was echoed throughout the jam-packed bus. Quatre put his arm around Relena, kissing her forehead. "You never cease to amaze me," he whispered.
She swallowed, managing only a weak smile in return. Her eyes darted over to Duo, but he was caught up in a conversation with a pretty junior History major, and for once wasn't paying attention.
Ever since Duo had moved to campus and joined the SDS, he had made it perfectly clear that he was wary of Quatre Winner, especially his motives towards Relena. Often, he took on a chaperone's role, bailing Relena out whenever he felt Quatre was getting too close.
But lately, Quatre was becoming more blatant. He wanted her and he was no longer even trying to hide it. Relena's stomach churned. Quatre was smart, talented, a great friend and an amazing leader. They believed in the same things; she would be lying if she said she didn't find him physically attractive. But...
*Heero.*
Relena's eyes closed. The mere thought of him had the power to sneak up on her and render her completely speechless. And once he was in her head, there was no escaping the memories. Holding hands on the playground, sipping sodas at the diner...his lips on hers in a chaste kiss, his hand on her breast, his body on top of hers as they made love...
She ached for him still.
"Oh...we're here!" Relena announced as the bus slowed to a stop. Subtly taking Quatre's hand, she unwound his arm from her shoulders. "Come on! We don't want to miss a minute!"
Quatre chuckled as she climbed over him. "If the rest of bourgeouise America had half the energy and conviction as Relena, every soldier would be on his way home," he told Duo.
The braided man nodded. "That's one of the reasons she and Heero are so good for each other. They both have conviction."
"I'm sure," Quatre replied evenly. He smiled at Duo. "Can you oversee the tent situation? I don't trust the English majors to have any idea how to set one up."
"I'm on it." Winking, Duo shuffled off the bus and stepped down into the crowds of people, vans, buses and caravans gathered in the wide open space surrounding D.C.'s Mall. He came up behind Relena; she was standing still, staring at the towering presence of the Washington Monument.
Duo put a hand to his eyes to shield the late-day sun. "I've always thought the Monument looked like a huge..."
Relena turned her head, laughing. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She played with the end of one of the braids that hung over her shoulder. "Duo...about Quatre..." With a sigh, she stopped.
"What is it, princess?"
She released the thin braid. "What am I going to do about him?"
"I think..." Duo reached for her hand. "You need to do whatever that huge heart of yours tells you is right."
Relena lowered her gaze to the pavement. "I can't do that, Duo. It wants something I can't have."
"Ah, princess..." He pulled her against his side, squeezing her shoulder. "Why don't you write to him? Fix all of this? After so long..."
"It's exactly because it's been so long that I can't." Relena looked up at her best friend's handsome face. "He's moved on by now."
Duo shook his head. "He hasn't moved anywhere, princess."
A good ways away, Quatre was instructing a group of freshmen in how exactly to place NC State's banners around their campsite. Relena watched him for a long second. The dying sunlight turned his blond hair gold; his smile was so warm that she could feel it despite the distance between them.
"Maybe I have."
****
Hollywood
"Are you there, Miss Schbeiker?"
"Um..." Hilde put a hand to her forehead and tightened her grip on the heavy phone. "Yes, I'm here. Could you just....could you repeat what you just said...please?"
The man on the other end laughed. "I said you made it in, Miss Schbeiker. Welcome to the U.S.O!"
Hilde shook her head. What the man was saying was practically incomprehensible. The audition had just been a fluke, something to do on a rainy day. A little bit of dancing, some meager singing...nothing like the acting-intense casting calls she had gone to and failed for the past two years. Yet this time, she had made it. She, Hilde Schbeiker, was being asked to join the U.S.O.
"I...don't know what to say..."
"You don't have to say anything. Just show up at the studio on Monday morning, ready to work." The casting agent paused. "This is the part where I ask you....are you sure you understand what you're agreeing to do, Miss Schbeiker?"
She licked her lips. "I'll be...in a show. For the soldiers in Vietnam. With Bob Hope..."
"Well...it's a little more involved than that. You're not just taping a show, Miss Schbeiker. You'll be performing it live. In Vietnam."
"Excuse me?"
"That's what the U.S.O. does, Miss Schbeiker. Provide entertainment for the soldiers serving overseas. We've been a proud, American tradition since World War Two, and our performances have included some of the biggest names in entertainment, including Marilyn..."
Hilde let him continue to speak, only half listening. She was going to Vietnam. It was a little too much to take in right away.
"...and then after the month of rehearsals, we'll be flying the whole company to Saigon. The Christmas show is the biggest deal for our boys, Miss Schbeiker. We only hire performers of the highest quality, because our troops deserve the best. Don't you agree?"
She swallowed. "Of course."
"Good. Well then, we'll see you first thing on Monday?"
"I'll be there," Hilde replied. "And thank you. Thank you so much."
"You'll do just fine." With a click, the casting agent hung up. As soon as the line was dead, Hilde stood up in her tiny, dingy apartment and let out a cry of pure joy. She had a job, a real, highly respected job. She was going to travel with this job. True, she'd be traveling to a war zone, but at least she was going somewhere. And for a long time, Hilde had been convinced she was going absolutely nowhere.
****
Washington D.C.
"See, there's a right way and a wrong way to handle one of these. I'm gonna show you the right way." Duo struck a match on a rock. Cupping his hand around the freshly rolled joint between his lips, he lit the end and blew out a puff of smoke. "First...the inhale. It has to be slow, but steady. Like this."
There was laughter from the other NC State protesters, gathered around the bonfire. Relena shook her head in amusement as she watched Duo's show. Once the joint was lit, Duo held it between the very tips of his thumb and forefinger and took a deep drag, his cheeks sucking inward with the effort.
"Congratulations, you're stoned!" someone on the other side of the fire yelled out. He was rewarded with more laughter. Even Duo had to exhale some of the smoke through his nose in order to laugh.
Relena's hands rubbed her arms to ward off goosebumps; the fall night had grown quite cold, and her light blouse, shawl and long, full skirt were doing nothing to keep her warm.
Suddenly, a thick blanket was draped over her shoulders. She looked up into Quatre's sea-breeze eyes. "Thank you."
"You looked cold," he said, sitting down next to her. He glanced over at Duo who was passing the joint to the same History major he had been chatting up on the bus, Rebecca. "This is one of those nights that I think I'll remember for the rest of my life."
Relena tilted her head to the side to see him better. "Why's that?"
"Well...for one thing, we're out here with thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of people who are totally committed to ending this war. Don't you feel the sense of community? Of purpose?"
She smiled and nodded. "I do."
"Secondly, but perhaps more importantly..." Quatre looked at her; his eyes held nothing back. "I'm here with you."
Long moments passed between them. Relena's tongue darted out, moistening her lips. Just when she was starting to doubt his intentions, Quatre leaned forward and kissed her.
Relena had kissed two men in her life. Heero and a random boy during a junior high game of Spin the Bottle. This kiss was like neither of them. Her eyes closed when Quatre's tongue parted her lips. His mouth was warm, comfortable, unlike the fire and spice of Heero's kisses.
His hand cupped the back of her head and tangled in her hair as they kissed, oblivious of the others around them. It was only when Relena felt a hard tap on her back that she broke the kiss. There were hoots and cat-calls from the students, shouts of encouragment and congratulations. Relena's cheeks burned hotter than the fire.
Quatre held up his hands. "All right...show's over. Someone hand me that thing." He reached out for the circling joint.
Relena's guilty eyes darted to Duo. He was watching her very carefully, clearly not stoned enough to let the kiss slip by without notice. Mortified, Relena pulled Quatre's blanket closer around her body.
When Quatre passed her the joint a minute later, she inhaled deeply. The sweet smell of the marijuana, coupled with the happy fog it created over her mind, was more than enough to erase the lingering pressure of Quatre's kiss...and the invading image of Heero's face.
****
Vietnam
Nights were the worst. He didn't mind the endless days spent crossing rice paddies, hills, walking through villages, ducking and covering. More than a year in the jungle had honed his skills to a point so fine, he could smell a sniper long before the first bullet was fired. The days were bearable. He could control them, control himself and his thoughts. His hands were never empty during the day.
But at night, on patrol, far away from the nearest American base, everything changed. Unable to see through the dark, moonless nights when the rain poured down so hard the drops actually bruised his skin, Heero was completely vulnerable. He rarely slept, but when he did, he woke every hour, to make sure he was still alive.
Most of his nights were spent sitting in the mud, listening to the other members of his patrol talking, eating, desperately trying to relax. He joined them ever so often, and listened to the endless stories about families back home, girlfriends who perfumed their letters, whores in Saigon who would do absolutely anything for an American dollar.
And when the whole camp was asleep, mostly in pairs, sitting up back to back, Heero would still be awake, leaning against either Wufei or Trowa, clutching his AK-47. His eyes would be on the restless jungle that surrounded them, choking them, but his thoughts were very far away. In a warm, clean bed with a sated, pliable Relena curled up against him.
That particular night was no different. Wufei's back was pressed to his, its owner asleep and lightly snoring. Heero's own eyes were closed, indulging in a memory. A rare moment with his guard down. His lips were dancing down the inside of Relena's soft, supple thigh towards the center of her body. He smiled suddenly; it had been months since he had smiled.
The first shot fired came from out of the jungle, the sound was like a slap across the face. It was enough to wake the whole camp, but not enough warning to stave off the attack. Relena quickly faded from Heero's mind as every survival instinct took over his entire body.
He could vaguely hear Wufei barking out instructions; he could just make out the outline of Trowa's body in the red-orange light from a dozen weapons firing all around them. He raised his own weapon, pointed towards the jungle, the dark, dangerous maze of vegetation, and fired. Shot after shot, he kept on, unsure if he was actually hitting anything.
Sharp pain in his side was ignored, as was the warmth of blood soaking his uniform to his body. His mouth was open, corded with the effort it took to scream, a primal cry that was neither pain nor sorrow. Only the sudden flash of light, the warmth of the explosion all around him, and the cold mud against his cheek, wiped away the night.
****
To Be Continued