Ngh. I think I'm finally nearing the end of AC 207. I'm planning this to be a trilogy. I actually considered contacting Sotsu and asking if they'd publish and endorse this monster, though I know it'll never happen. Hey, a girl can dream. Anyway, I'm working on an original Sci-fi novel, but it's going slow and it'll probably be years until it's even sent in to the publishers, let alone published (if at all.) I'm kinda running in circles, huh?
AC 207: The Hands of Fate
The Mask of Flames
The castle was finally completed. There was much to be done with the landscaping and decorating, but it felt like home. Relena thought it strange to say that, since she hadn't lived in the Sanc Kingdom for years, but she had to admit it felt right. Milliardo's positive reactions, too, helped her a great deal.
Heero walked through the gardens with Akiko, carrying her on his shoulders as she chattered randomly. It was great to see him relaxing. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to see him smile.
"Ms. Relena? I thought you might find this of interest." Noin held out her pocket-television and Relena saw that photo that Beliv had come into possession of on the screen. The words were in a different language, but she knew what the people were saying. Oh well, she thought, I guess Heero is going to have to stand it. "At least we won't have to worry about it," she told Noin.
Noin looked startled.
"People will make of it what they will. We might be asked why we chose to keep it a secret, but I think Heero exaggerates public reaction most of the time. Besides," she added on a lighter note, "maybe now I can talk him into having a real wedding."
Noin chuckled and tucked the handset away. "You were always one to take advantage of a situation. When were you planning to make your appearance, by the way?"
"How soon can you get a press crew out here?"
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"You could have given me a little more warning," Heero complained, wrapping the towel firmly around his waist. Apparently Akiko had wanted to go swimming and Relena was greeting the first couple of cameras when he'd come out from getting changed.
Akiko, unselfconscious as little kids always are, was confused as to why her father had canceled their plans all of a sudden.
"That was the first time I've seen you turn red in a while," Relena laughed. "Did we only bring the Speedo?
"My shorts got ripped," he said sulkily. "And I don't appreciate being referred to as your 'plaything.'"
"That was the stupid cameraman, not me," Relena protested. It would suffice to say that the first minutes of the press conference were not going according to plan. "Besides, you look good in that one. It's green."
Heero started to turn red again. "That isn't nice," he said quietly, embarrassed.
"It's a compliment. Appropriate, maybe not. Nice, yes."
"I give up," he groaned, cinching the towel tighter around his waist. "You . . . just go talk to the press people, okay?"
Relena smiled. "I guess I shouldn't keep them waiting too long." She left, to her husband's relief.
"What's to embarrassing about a bathing suit?" Akiko asked.
Heero paused awkwardly. ". . . I'll tell you when you're older."
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"Hey Marie?"
"Hm?" Mariemaia turned away from staring (literally) into space. She'd been very quiet today, and Ben was having a hard time figuring out why. She couldn't still be mad— could she? "Cam came to me last night and admitted he'd been a little upset. What the hell did you yell at him about?"
She scowled, and Ben knew he'd hit the target full on. "What business of yours? He pried into a sensitive subject and got what he asked for. No one has the right to tell me who my father was as a man and a politician. He's dead. It doesn't matter any more."
Ben shook his head. "No offense, little sister, but the name Treize Khushrenada is still synonymous with yours. It's hard to forget what you did in his name, even if it wasn't truly your fault."
Mariemaia rose indignantly. She drew breath to snap at him—
"And, you said yourself his ghost is still trying to be with you. Forget the trauma he caused in your life— blame your grandfather for that. You never even met him, Marie. I think Cam may know something you don't."
"Now don't you start," she growled, red hair flaming on the dark bridge. The ship was going through its night cycle and no one was there but the two of them. "Don't I have the right to have my own opinion of him?"
"Is it truly your opinion if you get it from misinformation and personal pain not totally connected?" Ben decided he couldn't argue with her. It was still a hot topic and she wouldn't listen to him when she was obviously so immersed in her own view. It was like trying to argue with a Mormon [See footnote]. He stalked out, about ready to tell Cam to keep talking to her about Treize.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
Trowa paced back and forth in his study in London, as he had been for hours. Quatre had just sent back the battle reports, on special commission from Lady Une. Although he'd been relieved to see that the resistance group had suffered minimal losses, he was still concerned about Marie.
The minute he'd turned 18 he'd tried to adopt her. He'd spent the time before that carefully considering what was to become of the poor child, and he decided she'd need to be raised by another who'd been close to the war but not of much relation to her father. It was obvious that she had begun to hate him, as a cause for the pain she was feeling inside, and he knew she'd need to escape that pain into the arms of someone she cared for. For years afterward, he'd shrugged off the fact that he wasn't her blood-relative. She was twelve before she even started to doubt their genetic relationship, and he'd grudgingly admitted the whole story. She knew more about him than even Quatre did.
He was immensely worried about her. The little girl that had become in all practically his daughter was out there risking her life. She had good intentions, fighting with her comrades while still shouldering the responsibility for every single one of them. He'd heard reports that her rebels numbered in the hundred thousands, although he knew the actual numbers were more around fifty thousand. It was incredible how in just a month the ranks of supporters had swelled. If Quatre had been worried about civil war on Earth, he didn't have to any more. Everybody who'd wanted to rebel against authority could now share the feeling with an organization. Many of them had signed up; still others had sent money and supplies. It was obvious few people opposed her under her father's name any more. He just hoped she realized that.
Everyone was spreading out again. Quatre was second-in-command to Une (now a full-fledged General). Marie had her own small roaming nation. Heero was busy raising kids and aiding Relena with the new Sanc Kingdom (although he really had no idea what the purpose was in that). Duo was working with Vincent, Sophie and his father-in-law to decode Beliv's records at top speed. Wufei had tried to return to normal work, since it was obvious that the gundams were just going to be used as showstoppers now and then. Trowa felt very utterly alone in the large empty house. He'd warned Quatre of this, and the blonde seemed resigned to the fact that what they had was merely a fling between close friends. Not feeling guilty, he snatched his coat and started off into the rain.
The pub was one he visited now and then, it being fairly clean and respectable while at the same time serving good drink and good company. Numerous friends had recommended it to him, and he'd grown fond of the establishment. (He'd at one point discovered that the import Thai beer they served was the same brand he'd had at Wufei's bachelor party.)
Wufei . . . he hated to disturb the poor man, and he knew that the oriental couple was trying hard to make ends meet and start a family, but he was the only logical choice, under the circumstances. He'd call in the morning.
Trowa shook rainwater off his coat and seated himself at the bar, indicating to the bartender that he wanted a drink. He sat, sipping the drink at regular intervals and observing the activities of the good-sized pub. Two people were playing pool. There was a loud and raucous group of young adults in the corner. Soon, his own problems began to blend into the sea of cheesy wall decorations and faded against the ones he heard about from others.
"Barton, right? The bartender leaned forward. "Haven't seen you here since the Gundam Games got started."
Trowa bobbed his head. "We've fallen on hard times, Ian."
"What're you in for tonight?"
"My family's falling apart."
Ian wiped the counter with his towel. "As if we hadn't all heard about your niece's rebellion, eh? If you want some advice, don't give a thought to it. That Mariemaia's got a good head on her shoulders. To tell the truth, I almost signed onto the ranks but for this pub here. She's got most of the people here rooting for her, I know. 'S good to be united once and a while, even if it is technically illegal."
Trowa smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
She walked into the bar looking over her shoulder nervously, as if being followed. She eyed the patrons all around, then took the seat next to Trowa. She signaled to Ian that she didn't want anything to the drink and the small-eyed man winked at Trowa. The woman turned to him, ice-blue eyes making him uncomfortable.
She noticed his discomfort and decided to see is she wasn't wasting her time. "Tell me, have you done bodyguard work before?"
Trowa shook his head (although if she was being threatened it was his duty as a police officer to investigate).
"Would you like to?"
"Who do you need protection from?" he countered.
"Ah," she said. "You don't get to know that until you have the job."
"I'm not going to go against the law," he said firmly.
She laughed. "Oh no, it's them who are breaking the law. I just have to get away from them somehow. You game?"
She had a distinct American accent and very white teeth, he noticed.
"How long are you going to need me?" Although he did long to get away, Trowa had an obligation to the London Police Department. He couldn't run off with the woman for more than a few days.
"Just as long as these guys decide I'm a target."
"Sign me up," he sighed, only halfway realizing that she hadn't promised him a determinate length of time. People do crazy things under stress.
She breathed out as if she'd been holding her breath since she'd came in. "Thank you, uh—"
"Call me Trowa."
"— Trowa. I may very well owe you my life. There are two men following me, as they have been for days. They were across the street when I came in here. They're wearing sunglasses and dark suits, and if I'm right they'll be in here in a minute. I don't know if they have guns, but they have hidden weapons."
"What do they want from you?"
"I am the last surviving member of an insurance company that ran into Mafia trouble in the former Canada. They followed me here, to the British Isles, and they're trying to kill me."
"Sounds like trouble." Trowa deliberately made an understatement of the situation. He'd run into this kind of thing before. "This will take some work to clean up, but we have to get out of here first. There's an exit in the back."
He downed the rest of his beer and stood, looking around.
"Leaving already, Trowa?" Ian finished polishing a shot glass and accepted the three bills Trowa rolled out for him. "Behave yourself, y'hear?" He winked at the woman, who wasn't paying attention.
The door flew open with a bang and Trowa instinctively yanked his protectee behind the corner of the bar. Ian swore loudly and several people screamed. One of the men whom she had described was searching the room with the barrel of an assault rifle. There was another behind him. Suit No. 1 (as Trowa deemed him mentally) fired a warning shot into the liquor shelf and a glass bottle shattered all over the counter. Trowa grimaced and pulled his gun out of his waist holster, took aim, and fired.
Ian jostled him in an attempt to escape from behind the bar and he missed low. The bullet shot straight into the spreading pool of alcohol and ignited it. He saw Suit No. 2 curse as the blue flame caught onto other things in the bar.
"Come on!" Trowa yelled and grabbed the woman's arm. His fingers searched behind him for the knob to the back door and found it. He gave it a sharp twist. The hinges squeaked rustily and the door tumbled open, dumping them into a back alley. He could hear people screaming and yelling trying to follow but getting caught in the Mafia gunfire.
Trowa clenched his teeth and led her through a maze of alleys only a policeman would know. He rounded a corner and he heard the Suits panting behind them. He turned, fired a round into No.1's shoulder and pressed onward.
They looped back around to the front street and watched the fire department try to put out the blaze, which had engulfed the building. "I think we lost them," he said.
"For now, at least," she panted, leaning hard on his shoulder. It was obvious she was not used to exercise.
"I have a spare room tonight," Trowa said. It was more of a command than a statement, and she immediately noticed the difference. Trowa took her back to his house, which was dark, and showed her Mariemaia's former bedroom. He refrained from looking at her things, as the memories were still painful. "By the way, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I have your name?"
"Adrianne Shandler," she said. "But don't call me that when they could be around."
"That goes without saying." He fell asleep with the realization that a good beer had been wasted that evening.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
Wufei walked into his apartment to find that his phone was ringing. He answered quickly, expecting it to be Phailin— since she'd said she'd call him if she was delayed— but picked it up and was extremely disappointed.
Trowa looked more like Heero had during the Gundam Games. His thin face was haggard. "Wufei, I'm glad I caught you. I need to speak with you."
"What is it?" Wufei felt exasperated. Just when he'd finally settled back into the normal rhythm, someone had to come along and mess it up. "Can you make it quick?"
"I need to ask a favor of you."
"What?"
"I need someone to look after Mariemaia. I know it sounds stupid, but I get the sense that someone she knows needs to be there, and I would but I can't."
Wufei clenched his hands on the counter. It wasn't that he was angry— he was in a particularly complacent mood today— he just thought his friend was acting a little out of line. "Trowa, I'm probably the least eligible person for the job and you know it."
"You're the only person that would possibly be willing and able to do it, Wufei. I'm sorry to push, but I just have a hunch—"
"Stop," Wufei said, holding up his hands. "I don't want to hear about hunches and worries. Look, I'll talk to Phailin . . . and I think about it. Don't be surprised if I say no. I can't just abandon my life here again."
Trowa refrained from mentioning that war always screws up people's lives. "I have another matter of business that I have to attend to right now. If you need to contact me I'll be at my office." Without even bothering with a good-bye he hung up. Wufei knew instantly that his response hadn't been the one Trowa had wanted.
A minute later, Phailin walked in the door. She took one look at Wufei and said, "Whatever mission you're on now, you're going and that's final," before he could even open his mouth.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
The castle was every bit a work of art as it was a treasure. Of course, they'd had plenty of money to build and furnish it, and the record cabinets were still young. The Sanc Kingdom, for being so peaceful, had a violent history. Nobody attracts anger more than those that preach, and those that preach for peace are worse. The truth always has a tendency to hide behind a mask of flames, plainly because paper has a tendency to burn well. Just days after Relena Peacecraft (reinstated) announced the birth of her mother country, everything was up in smoke.
They managed to save half the house from being gutted by the fire. Although they'd all inhaled a little smoke, everyone was accounted for but Heero. Milliardo had to hold his sister physically— and even then she was putting up a terrific fight— to keep her from chasing after Heero into the burning castle. A fireman emerged, Heero's arm draped over his shoulder. The two men were supporting between them a computer body, Heero's most valuable possession these days. "You idiot," Relena sobbed even as she cradled his soot-covered head in his lap. "How could you risk your life for a computer?"
Heero protested to the point of a coughing fit when the firefighters tried to load the computer onto their truck to be put in a safe-house in the nearest town while the remains of the building were sorted through for other intact records. They shrugged at each other curiously but set the computer down beside him.
Akiko was in tears. "Dad? Are you gonna die?"
Heero smiled and stroked his daughter's face with a black hand. Residue streaked off onto her cheek and forehead. "I'll be okay in a few minutes, honey. I just breathed in a little too much smoke."
"What the hell is in that computer that made you risk your life?" Relena demanded.
"I can't tell you at the moment." Heero looked up at her, his white eyes the only part she could see in the middle of the night. "I don't think it's totally safe here."
"You think this was arson?" The thought had occurred to her too, but she'd shoved it off as unfeasible.
"I've no doubt in my mind," he replied, coughing again.
Milliardo knelt beside them and asked Heero if he'd gotten burned. He received a definite no and breathed a sigh of relief. "That was too close. You've got to be more careful than that, Yuy, or I might take Relena and kids away from such a dangerous individual."
Heero snorted, causing him to cough more. "Like I'd let you. No, if I had a choice of Relena or the computer I would have gotten her. But I'm okay so there's no use asking 'what if' right now."
It was hard to argue with him on that point. Relena looked over across the lake and saw bright streaks where the sun would soon be emerging. A new day was coming up fast, and there was nothing she could do but press on with her plans.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
The chip in Vincent's arm sparked when Duo dropped the wire from the computer on to it accidentally.
"Yeeow!" the boy yelped, shaking the artificial limb violently. It was obvious the pain receptors were still working just fine.
Little Vincent in his bassinet let out a cry of protest, too. The two of them had known each other less than a week and already it seemed they shared some kind of psychic connection.
"Damn!" Duo swore in frustration. "I don't see why we can't store all that stuff on just one computer!"
"Because the only computer big enough to handle this much information and the decoding software and the decoded files is on Mariemaia's new battle cruiser." Vincent replied, still shaking his hand as if it was on fire. "And God knows she won't let us use it."
Duo unplugged the computer he was currently on— one of nearly fifty hard drives required to store all Vincent's downloaded junk— and tried to wire it to the chip. This time, it didn't grow red-hot from a faulty wiring job. The files were, of course, impossible for the computer's software to decode. Luckily, Vincent and Tovah both worked extensively with computers.
Vincent plugged the monitor into the first computer and opened a random file. "Crew lists, by the format," he said instantly, staring at the incomprehensible string of symbols. "But . . . Une was supposed to have another list we could use to decode this puppy. I think we could use this as our primer."
"Our what-what?" Duo asked, rubbing his head. He had no idea why Une had asked him to help.
"Primer: the key to solving the code," Vincent said, rolling his eyes a little.
"Ah." Duo grinned, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Yes, good idea."
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"Mariemaia, I think it's time we pulled back." Dennis said over the radio. "God, you know you're moving so fast our sensors can't see you?"
Marie shook her head. "We have to drive Beliv all the way out or he'll just stop where he is and find another convenient target. Trust me. The man doesn't know the concept of withdrawal. I've been around him just long enough to know that."
They'd been chasing the United Colony's troops for nearly a week, pushing them further and further out of Earth-and-colony territory like guard dogs. Of course, Earth-and-colony forces were also confronting Mariemaia's troops, faced with charges of desertion, robbery and fleeing justice, but the efforts had been minimal at best. Une knew how many of her best troops had abandoned and joined Mariemaia's army. She wasn't about to take foolish chances. Beliv saw her caution and was starting to become weary of the assault. Yesterday they had abandoned a sector they had held quite securely and had ran flat-footed towards home.
All of a sudden, out a nowhere a troop of Ampheter mobile suits swept forward. With an outcry of surprise, Marie ignited her beam saber. Something was wrong. They weren't fighting back. She scanned the cockpits, and they had pilots.
Two squadrons, knowing something odd was going on, came up behind. "What is it?"
"Commander of the Ampheter squadron, please state your business," Mariemaia demanded, but she received silence.
One suit was turned slightly to the side, and Marie thought she saw something glow on its back. The ampheters were carrying— "Bombs! Kamakaze! Everybody GET OUT OF HERE!" she screamed, boosting her powerful engines to maximum and shooting away. Her fighters scattered, but the warning had come too late. Mobile suit engines were no match for Fortuna's.
She watched bound in horror as the machinery and pilots disappeared in a flash of fire.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"Now can you tell us what's in that computer?" Akiko and Relena asked at the same time.
Heero coughed again, but nothing black came up this time. His voice sounded almost normal, and the blisters on his hands were finally going away. "I suppose, but you two have got to promise not to tell Milliardo or Noin, okay?"
Relena looked at him. "Why? Can't I trust my own brother?"
". . . It's not his business, is all."
The reply left Relena resigned to the fact that she'd used the line on Heero a hundred times, if not more. He would eventually give up under those terms, so she might as well let him have his way this time.
"Got that, Kik?"
"Yeah dad."
Heero nodded and hit the power switch. "It's got my personal password on it anyway, but I can never be too careful."
"I know what it is," Akiko declared a moment later.
"I've never told anyone. How could you know?" Heero asked her, thinking she was playing with him.
She shrugged her small shoulders. "I just watched you type it in."
Heero smiled inwardly, wondering if she wasn't bluffing. With his genes . . . she could very well have seen his fingers move that quickly over the keyboard. "Anyway," he said, diverting attention back to the computer, "Remember that card you gave me about my past all those years ago, Relena? It had six files on it, all encoded differently. I've been working on it for years, but I was finally able to pry the other personal encryptions from Duo, Wufei, Quatre and Trowa. That's what four of the other files are. However, I can't figure out what this last one is about. It's not the same as the other five, because it's not personal data on the same kind of formatting structure as the others. While you could have probably found data on everyone but me somewhere else, this last piece I think is totally top-secret."
"What do you think it could be?" Relena leaned over his shoulder to study the pages of incomprehensible text on the screen.
"I'm guessing it's either information on the gundams or the gundam scientists or possibly even the genetic modifications they made to me."
"But there's no way to tell what it really is, right?" Akiko asked. "That would bug me."
"It is bothersome," Heero admitted, "and seeing how valuable some of this information has the potential to be, I don't want anything to happen to these files.
"What happened to the original diskette I gave to you?"
"It's a good thing I downloaded those files to my computer before we left the hotel, in that regard. The diskette was smashed in my suitcase, totally unusable. I burned it just in case, but there was no way you could have extracted that information from it after it was deformed like that." Heero rubbed his eyes, which still burned from the smoke of the fire. "That's what's on this computer, and I really don't feel like staying up much later to work on it. I think we should all go to bed."
Relena nodded, holding back a yawn. "Yes, it's getting very late, Akiko."
The computer honked unpleasantly, and Heero turned back to it, eyes wide. He cursed under his breath and hit a few keys. "Someone's trying to break through my firewall! What the— I can't track the signal, either!"
"If you can't track it you can't block it or uncover it!" Akiko said, biting her lip. "I bet they're after those files, too."
Heero tried several other things, and then a bar appeared on the screen. Time remaining until his system was hacked in to, 30 seconds and counting. Heero cursed and dove for the power button. He then unplugged the cable from the computer, just in case. "That was too close," he said. "See how bad people want these files? That's not the first attempted break-in."
"Who would want files on your personal computer?" Relena asked, feeling a little paranoid.
Heero shrugged. "The press, conspiracy nuts, people planning to get revenge . . . any number of them. You wanted to know why I rescued this machine, didn't you?"
"Point," she conceded. "If I were you I'd leave yourself disconnected."
"I was planning on it." Heero drew a lock around the computer body and shoved the key in his pocket. "But sometime I need to find out how that arsonist got past our gate."
"That's where I was going."
~~@[~*,~]@~~
Shinobi shrugged his defeat off and turned his computer to another task. The fire had been a success, in any case. He brushed a strand of hair out of his face, wondering why the hell he was going along with everything when it was his conscience on the line.
He trusted the man, of course, but the task that lay before him was a weight he felt he almost couldn't bear. It took a strong faith and a very tough mind to endure the torture of cross and double-cross, and it took time. He wondered how long it would be before he got caught.
Above his desk was tacked a quote: "The truth is often a terrible weapon of aggression. It is possible to lie, even to murder, for the truth"— Alfred Alder. It was true that a war was waged with many soldiers and a few politicians. Wars were just as political as bloody, as well as politically bloody. There, he was a standing observer and a messenger with no moral and political stature who had dived into his state of ruthlessness to protect those he loved most dearly. That bit of information had shaken and confused him for a while until he had realized he was the last to figure it out.
He had seen so much in his short time, and it had meant relatively so little. Shinobi knew that he was doing it because he was being selfish and wanted to make himself feel worthy to live, but those actions also reflected off him onto others. He knew the effect his new behavior was having and he wasn't particularly dissatisfied.
Personal isn't the same as important. It was something he'd heard a million times, but he begged to differ. Without personal meaning, life had nowhere to go.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"Wufei, I'm not going to argue! Trowa needs your help." Phailin braced her arms against his shoulders, jaw squared.
Wufei cast his eyes toward the floor, a sudden body of doubt and misdirection. "Mariemaia matters much less to me than you do."
"I can take care of myself Wufei."
"Stop saying my name like that. You know you can't make me go away. I'll sleep by the door if I have to. You know that."
Phailin remembered all too vividly their nights in the swamps of former Vietnam, pursued by guerillas, when he stood over her sleeping form for three nights with no rest until the men pursuing had either died or fled. It wasn't as if she'd been injured, or was sick or incapable of fighting, he'd just insisted that she get her rest. "There's no reason to be so selfish, Chang."
He winced as she reminded him of his clan habits. His hands crept up and caressed hers gently, and he looked at her. Few times had he looked at her with such conviction, such fear. Suddenly she folded and fell against him, knowing in all her heart that away was the last place she wanted him to go.
"Not now," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her head against his shoulder. "Please don't make me leave you now."
"I don't have a choice," she told him, knowing it was true. "We have eternity together, but this war is now. I want so much to be selfish, but I can't for the life of me. Please, Wufei, don't make this harder than it already is."
He rocked her silently, deep in contemplation. When he spoke, it vibrated through his chest and hers, as if someone divine was speaking through him. "You will go to your village, then."
"I told you I can take care of myself." Despite her better judgement, she had to deny her weaknesses.
"I am not going to argue with you. If you are so determined that I should go to Mariemaia you must assure me I will not need to worry for your safety. You won one confrontation. Grant me a peace, please, my love."
There were so many things to leave behind— but both good things and bad ones. She'd spent only a few days in her village for the years she'd been out on her quest for martial justice. Perhaps . . . perhaps it would be advisable to relax back home for a while. ". . . I really don't have a choice, do I?"
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[Footnote: If you're Mormon, I'm sorry if you took offense at that. It wasn't meant as an insult. It's just that all the Mormons I know are hardheaded, love to argue at every opportunity about their beliefs, and yet are kind of unhappy with the way they live their lives. Of course, that's just my experience. PLEASE NO REVIEWS ABOUT RELIGION. I GET VERY SICK OF THOSE ARGUMENTS *Wipes forehead*.]
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YAY! I just hit the hundred-page mark on this book. That means I have over two hundred pages on the Threads of Time trilogy. Heh. Gee, and it didn't even take me six months! (I'm such a loser to spend all my free time on this thing.)
Ah well, thus is the life of a fanfiction nut, I guess. I don't know how long it'll be until the next chapter's out. I have a lot of homework I need to get done and a social life that needs some serious patching. *grin* I guess it should be nice to know I'm that dedicated to my fans, eh?
-Itsumo