She's a Millionaire
by Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: No, this is not a spoof based on a famous game show.
They have nothing in common. What is rather unexpected is that this a
story about Relena. It's set alternate reality and will contain no
blatant Relena-bashing. Why? Well, first of all to see if I could,
and secondly to honor our friend Jerr who has so patiently endured my
extreme Dorothy fandom. I even picked a Catatonia song for the
occasion. Enjoy. I will never write another Relena fanfic again.
It's totally out of my system.)
***
She's a Millionaire
***
Her treasured chest was sunken
Equally cursed and blessed
In her Versace dress.
Too eager to impress.
"What's wrong, Relena?" The willowy blond girl slid next to her party
companion and linked arms. The ballroom was dimly lit by candle light
hanging from elegantly cut chandeliers. It was a rather fancy outing,
but after the Peacecraft family had made a fortune in the shipping
business they could afford to go.
Relena chewed on her bottom lip, surveying the sea of dancers before
glancing over at her friend. "I'm not sure, this isn't exactly the
sort of thing I thought my brother would enjoy."
The other girl followed Relena's gaze to the taller blond who almost
stood head and shoulders above his dancing partner. Milliardo
Peacecraft was the reluctant heir to the Peacecraft business. He
reluctantly attended the organization's meetings and more forcefully
shunned the social gatherings required by his station. But lately, the
heated protests that were generated by her brother's presence in the
her father's study had subsided. Milliardo had actually insisted that
Relena prepare herself more quickly so that he could get to the evening
festivities faster.
"It looks like he's taken a fancy to that one, whoever she is. I don't
recognize her." The blond shrugged, uninterested in Relena's brother.
"But you look simply darling. Is that a new gown."
Relena freed her arm from the other girl's grasp and pulled up on her
skirt a bit. It was a simple blue gown that had just enough wiggle
room it in that she could sit down for dinner without fear of
suffocation or popping a designer button. "No, I haven't worn this
before." She felt somewhat suffocated anyway. The entire atmosphere
of the evening was almost too much. "Sylvia, who is that with my
brother?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Look again."
Sylvia sighed and focused on the older Peacecraft and his short haired
girl fascination. They had stopped waltzing and moved to the side to
chat with the older crowd. Obviously, Milliardo was warming toward his
obligations as the oldest son. The majority of the wall flowers were
the older generation that scattered themselves across various
comfortable couches and lounge chairs. Several waiters hovered between
them eagerly serving drinks and offering appetizers. The only people
standing besides Relena's brother and his dark partner were their
mirror opposites, a dark man and his cornsilk haired companion.
The more interesting factor in the equation was the masculine stranger.
Even at their distance, his serious eyes seemed to pierce the watching
girls' imaginations. He might have been a dangerous pirate ravaging
their ship and they would have asked to go along with him. Just to be
near that fascinating darkness.
A vision filled her soap sud hell
Twin tub on spin
Let's all her daydreams in
And how she wants away from him
Relena maneuvered around the evenings events trying to position herself
near the dark stranger, but forces were against her. She tried several
times to catch his eye, but he seemed intently focused on whoever he
was speaking with. His blond accomplice was never far either. Sylvia
Noventa, who was braver and less famous than the Peacecraft daughter,
wormed her way nearer to the object of their intrigue.
Relena squirmed with frustration. She sensed the liquid slip from her
glass before she saw it and by that instinct was able to avoid staining
her dress. Staring at the ground in disbelief she watched the small
pools of wet gather on the polished floor.
Immediately a servant came up and cleaned the mess. "No worries, Miss
Peacecraft."
"Thank you." She whispered diplomatically, glancing over to see if
Sylvia had made any progress. With the distraction of the movement,
she'd lost track of the dark stranger's moment by moment location.
"He's the cousin of the girl, Dorothy Catalonia." Sylvia whispered
very near Relena's right shoulder. "Remember her, Relena? She was at
our school for a semester several years ago before her family moved to
the States. She's back to visit for the holiday and brought Heero with
her."
"Heero?" Relena let the word sound off her tongue for the first time.
Her voice caught on the *r* naturally, but Sylvia chuckled at the
smitten sound of it.
"Good grief, Relena. Get a hold of yourself."
"What else do you know?"
"He's Japanese, but studied abroad at the same place Dorothy was
getting her education. She's graduating with a focus in farming, can
you believe . . ."
"Farming?" Relena wrinkled her nose.
"Well, agriculture anyway." Sylvia shrugged. "Maybe she likes to
garden, who knows?"
"Back to Heero." Relena liked the sound of it the second time as well.
"Well, it seems he's interested in piloting. Someone, oh yes, that
Winner fellow, mentioned that Heero might go into the army." Sylvia
helped herself to a glass of champagne as the brisk attendant swept by
them.
"Oh my, you shouldn't drink that." Relena scolded.
Sylvia winked then tipped her head to the retreating waiter, "He didn't
notice, did he?"
"Actually . . ." Relena tried not to laugh as the young waiter gently
pushed through the guests to scold the underage drinker.
"Excuse me, miss." He began, lifting one finger to emphasize his
authority. "Sylvia?"
"Oh," Sylvia chuckled, blushing deeply and dropping her eyes.
"Trowa Barton, I thought you were with the circus?" Relena greeted
their school chum. "Whatever are you doing here?"
"Unlike most of you attending our preppy high school, I have to pay for
my own way." Trowa scolded them with a slight teasing lilt to his
voice. "Quatre knew I was looking for a little extra cash and offered
to let me help bus tables this evening after the show. When one of the
floor waiters called in sick . . ."
"But aren't you too young to distribute alcohol?" Relena asked, but
she only half listened to Trowa's answer as she surveyed the audience
for the Japanese guest.
"Don't think about it too much," Trowa shrugged. Then noticing
Relena's distraction pondered, "Hey, what's with her?" He asked Sylvia
who was still studying the design of the floor nearest her feet.
"Oh," Sylvia tried again, "Well, she's rather intrigued with Dorothy's
cousin."
"Dorothy?" Trowa suddenly seemed interested. "I always liked her."
"You never talked to her." Sylvia snapped, a tad frustrated.
"I know, but she was kind of cute." Trowa started to look around
himself. "But, yeah, I heard that she was here and had Heero along
with her."
"What do you know about Heero?" Relena asked, hoping that Trowa might
be more helpful with information than he was about getting them drinks.
"Not much, just that he's engaged." Trowa shrugged.
"You're kidding." Sylvia's mouth dropped open. Relena looked even
more devastated.
"Nope. I'm pretty sure that he's engaged. Some sort of Japanese
tradition." The gangly boy shifted from one leg to the other. Sylvia
had begun to smile bashfully at him and that always made Trowa nervous.
"Um. I gotta go." Trowa spun and one heel and hurried off to offer a
much older woman Sylvia's glass of champagne.
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
"I will not daydream about Heero Yuy." Relena was scribbling in her
algebra notebook while the instructor lectured on some useful equation
that would probably help her with the next exam. She didn't care. She
could pay Trowa to tutor her later. That was her charity.
"I will not daydream about Heero Yuy." She wrote it again in bubble
letters, letting the *Y's* in "Yuy" curl off the page and into
impossibly.
Then she practiced writing "Relena Yuy." She wrinkled her nose,
crossed it out and tried again. "Heero Peacecraft." Relena couldn't
help but snicker.
Someone near her coughed, and Relena looked up to see Quatre Winner
staring at her purposefully from his desk across the aisle, then
glancing toward the front of the class room. Almost fearful, Relena
deliberately let her eyes shift to see whatever Quatre was directing
her toward. Had the teacher called on her? No, he had his back to the
class and was blissfully sketching out algebraic problems with loving
strokes of chalk.
She wrinkled her forehead and glared back at Quatre. His mouth formed
the word, "No." Then something else she couldn't decipher. Relena
hated people who thought she could lip-read.
"What?" She hissed.
Quatre tried shaping his lips around the same word several times, but
refused to speak outloud. He picked up his pencil and began to write
something. When he had finished he tapped it with the eraser. Relena
leaned across the aisle but couldn't decipher his chicken scratching.
"What?" She whispered.
"Do you need something, Relena?" The instructor loved his chalkboard,
but he hated having the melody of it's screeching interrupted by the
unnecessary voices of children.
Just as she turned to answer the teacher, Relena saw Sylvia at the
door, gesturing wildly.
"I need to pee." Relena said recklessly. Several of the other
students snickered. And Quatre visibly slumped back in his seat,
embarrassed and relieved that his part in the mischief was over.
"Take the *restroom* pass and go." The instructor frowned, and turned
back to the board. "Now where was I?" He began to caress the dark
surface with his mathematical musings.
Relena swooped up the pass as she quickly fled the classroom. "What do
you want, Sylvia?" She asked as soon as the door was closed.
"Trowa was wrong."
"What?"
"Heero isn't engaged." Sylvia said, somewhat deflated that Relena
hadn't guessed. "But, then I asked myself, how could anyone our age be
engaged in this generation--no matter what culture your from! I knew
he had to be wrong so I asked around."
"Good grief, Sylvia." Relena slapped her forehead, "I hope that this
doesn't get back to him--all your probing, that is."
"He's here to earn money to go back to Japan and study something.
Apparently, he's in cahoots with one of his classmates from the States
and they're looking for some sort of endowment to begin a project as
well." Sylvia rattled on, spilling her information as quickly as she
could.
Feeling giddy and nervous, Relena pulled Sylvia with her in the
direction of the bathroom. "I need to pee." Relena giggled.
Perched on the vanity counter, Sylvia told Relena everything that she
knew. And she admitted that it was Trowa who had set the record
straight.
"So, you wouldn't have known if Trowa hadn't been decent and set the
record straight for us?" Relena was too smitten with her dark stranger
to really scold her friend.
"Something like that." Sylvia admitted, "Don't give him too much
credit!"
"So," Relena added, "Do we know how well his petition worked at the
party this weekend? Did he get his grant? Or earn enough money?"
"I don't think so." Sylvia shrugged. "But if he stays here all the
better, right?"
"No." Relena sunk her head into her hands, "He'll just go back to the
States, I know it." She paused, "We've got to find some way to get him
the money he needs."
"You're the millionaire." Sylvia said coolly.
"Not quite, it's my father." Relena's eyes were unfocused across her
nose. She always went a little cross-eyed when she was serious
contemplating a scheme to meet a boy. And she reassured herself that
that was all, she simply wanted to meet him and help him along to fully
realize his dream.
Height straight prams
Chariot scene from Ben Hur
"What?" Trowa frowned, a little offended. "You make me tutor you for
income, and then you see this dashing young man across the ballroom and
decide you're going to just give him money?"
"That's not the deal," Relena backpedalled a bit. Trowa wasn't really
a penny pincher, but he was a tiny bit insecure. It had taken months
for Relena to pry a word out of the new student recluse. She done it
mostly for Sylvia who was extraordinarily fond of the acrobat. "He's
needy too, just a lot more needy than you are. I want to help him
raise the money he needs . . ."
"This is getting better every minute." Quatre leaned against the wall
of Relena's apartment. Her parent's had rented a flat for her so that
she could be closer to her school. Quatre's parents had done the same
and he lived on the floor just beneath her. He accused her of rowdy
dancing, Relena called it aerobics. Quatre usually retorted something
about safari animals and elephants. Today, she wasn't interested in
their typical banter.
"Focus." Relena said in her best diplomatic voice, "We have to do a
service project anyway. Why not raise money for the Japanese hotie?"
Trowa groaned. "Why not simply ask your father?"
"Well, that's too easy." Relena shrugged. "If I'm--we're going to
make a donation, we need to use our money." Trowa snorted. "But we
can always milk our parents."
"Your parents." Trowa snorted again. Quatre started to laugh.
Sylvia had been quiet up to that point, gazing rather unashamably at
her favorite circus performer. "I think that Relena has some good
ideas, and we do need service hours. That much is reward for helping."
"I could give elementary students tours of the circus backstage."
Trowa mumbled stubbornly, but not wanting to too loudly protest Sylvia.
"I could visit the elderly." Quatre piped up. "Why take people's
money?"
"It's for a good cause." Relena protested.
Quatre still looked doubtful. "What are these ideas?"
"Well, we could babysit." The boys groaned. "Remember, Trowa, you
were the one who suggested elementary students!" Relena continued
quickly, "Or we could sell tickets to see Ben Hur in my dad's theater."
Quatre frowned, "Ben Hur might be my favorite movie, but I don't think
that you're supposed to sell tickets to see it . . ."
Relena smiled her most winning smile, "Don't worry. Daddy'll make
everything okay."
Push chair rage
Accustomized roll bar cage
Will help baby come of age
"This is hardly more successful than the movie showing." Trowa
protested out of one side of his mouth while reading a fairy tale to
twenty kids. Twenty kids who had wrestled him out of his chair and
were clinging to his various toothpick like limbs. One young girl had
a firm grasp on both of his ears and was making kissy-faces. "This
story is not Snow White OR Sleeping Beauty." He reminded the toddler
firmly.
"Patience, Trowa darling." Relena said as she walked by, surveying the
damages and estimating what sort of chunk that would take out of their
profits. The movie showing hadn't been terribly successful. Most of
her parents friends and Quatre's entire Maganac Film Club went to the
flick. Trowa had taken Sylvia but they insisted it wasn't as much a
date as for the "cause." Relena wished she had increased the price of
admission when the turnout had been so much less than the thousands she
had expected.
The hero of the evening hadn't come. Relena had pulled at the ends of
her hair and started chewing at them when the movie had started.
"Where is he?" She had asked Sylvia. Sylvia had replied, "But I
didn't invite him, I thought this was supposed to be a secret
donation?"
"Secret?" Relena snorted as she walked past Sylvia and Quatre who were
trying to keep the younger kids in their pens, er, cribs. As soon as
one tot was replaced and Quatre went to chorale another small person,
the original one would be half escaped.
"What's good about a secret donation? I want to meet Heero." She
kicked at a loose block and barely missed hitting a mass of wiggling
little bodies. "Oops." Relena let her fingers trace her lips and she
wondered what kissing was like. She had caught Trowa and Sylvia behind
the bleachers one afternoon when it was warmer outside, but Sylvia
wouldn't talk about it.
This was not going according to plan exactly. She kept figuring the
figures in her head, but no amount of magic algebra chalk was going to
make the number big enough to help Heero.
So what's in the pram
Is it teen death?
"So we failed." Sylvia sniffed, near tears. Expectedly, Trowa
appeared to hover behind her, just in case Sylvia's legs decided not to
work anymore.
"Thanks for putting it so kindly." Relena's diplomacy had slipped out
the back door while she had shooed the last pesky children from her
parent's recreation room. Not even the pastel palm prints that covered
craft leader Quatre's body from head to foot could urge her lips to
smile.
"Well, we did make a little money." Trowa offered kindly. "We could
give that."
"It's just terribly unfair." Relena protested with her righteous
indignation reflamed. "He should get to live out his dream!"
"It's not like the guy was expecting you to pay his way home." Quatre
frowned, unhappy with how distressed this stranger was making their
friend. Relena might overdue the theatrics upon occasion, but she had
a good heart.
"I might as well hide forever." Relena pushed her fists into her
eyesockets, thinking to herself that if she never saw the daylight
again she couldn't have been punished enough. "What a failure."
"Now, now." Quatre said, slumping to sit on the ground. Starting to
feel the exhaustion. He glanced down at his re-painted clothing and
grimaced. Then, he started to smile. Then chuckle.
Quatre laughed. Trowa and Sylvia started to snicker, and she really
did fall back into Trowa's expecting arms.
Relena started to vibrate with fury. How could they laugh? But then
her spasms turned into her very own fit of fanatic laughter. She sunk
to the floor and her tummy started to ache from the exertion. She
bumped into Quatre, and then they lapsed into another round of jolly
belly-chuckles.
"At least we got out community service done." Trowa struggled with his
English as Sylvia continued to laugh against him. "Early even."
"Silver-lining spotter!" Quatre accused, holding his stomach, and
laughing harder every time Relena rolled into him.
"Oh, just take the money, Trowa." Relena gasped, "We all know you want
it."
Trowa protested weakly.
Bazooka the check out cue
There's no need to argue
About who was in front of who
After cleaning the recreation room from their babysitting adventures,
the four friends found themselves back again for further Heero oriented
festivities. Apparently, Heero's cousin had managed to raise the money
for Heero's project. The Peacecraft family had offered to host the
event since the young man's name sounded so familiar. None of them
exactly remembered the name as the dark stranger Relena had recently
been devoted to.
Sylvia and Relena hovered in the back corner, avoiding Heero as he
circulated the guests at all costs. Relena sighed remembering how
eagerly she had tried to catch his eye just weeks before.
"Look out, he's coming." Trowa whispered as he hurried past, coat
tails flying. Relena had insisted her parents include him along with
the regular serving staff. She assured them that he never gave alcohol
to minors.
"Where? Where?" Relena whispered after him just as she felt Sylvia's
cool fingers grasp her arm. She stiffened when she heard her brother's
familiar voice.
"Oh yes." The deep baritone slid a little nasally as he approached his
younger sibling. "And this is my kid sister, Relena."
She turned, ever so painfully slowly, focusing past her brother--who
she would punish later--and onto Dorothy Catalonia.
"Relena, this is Dorothy . . ."
"We've met." Relena said sharply, her voice a pitch higher than normal
as she struggled to release her tension slowly, like a balloon leaking
it's helium.
"Yes." Dorothy smiled coyly, "We've met before. But I think Milliardo
wanted to introduce you to . . ."
Relena's balloon spontaneously caught it's breath as she saw . . . him.
"I'm Heero Yuy." Heero glanced at everyone, seeming puzzled. "I think
I'm the person they meant to introduce to you anyway."
"Hi." Relena said dumbly, mouthing the word and letting some sound out
of her rigid form.
"But I suppose you know all about him anyway." Milliardo easily
surveyed the crowd over Relena's head. "This party is to celebrate his
good fortune."
"I . . ." Heero started, just as Dorothy wrapped her arm through his
and pulled him after Milliardo who had spotted his dark haired beauty.
"You must meet Lucrezia!" Milliardo insisted, setting off at a brisk
pace.
Relena had yet to close her mouth from her first utterance. She felt
her ears burning and wished she hadn't pulled her hair back for the
evening. But Heero was gone.
She watch him go. Slowly she regained her hearing through the ringing
red ears. She suddenly regained a sense of her body, and Sylvia's
fingernails firmly embedded in her arm.
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" Relena gasped. "Sylvia let go!"
"Sorry." Sylvia blushed. "He was gorgeous."
"Who was gorgeous?" Quatre asked walking up to fill the place that
Heero had just left. Relena felt relieved to see a friend take it.
"You are." Relena chuckled anxiously, somewhat regaining her sense of
humor.
"Really," Quatre said with bravado, but his ears were turning red,
"Tell me why."
"Later," Relena promised as Sylvia pulled on her bruised arm.
"Let's go tell Trowa off." Sylvia giggled gleefully, "Some informant
he is!"
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
Relena was doodling in her notebook again. This time she had finished
an exam early. Thanks to Trowa, she had learned her algebra formulas
in time. When they had been poured over the text, she offered him the
money they had earned.
"No one else could really *use* it." Relena insisted, "And it was
earned as a service project. We're proud that you're financing your
own education. That's incredibly noble you realize."
Trowa had actually blushed at something other than Sylvia. "Nevermind
that." He whispered. "Put it away and use it sometime to fly to
Japan." He had filtered that all into his explanation of why the
quadratic formula was important to know. Relena simply smiled.
She doodled in the margins, "Sylvia Barton." She made the *y* extra
loopy. Chewing on the end of her pencil she pondered things a minute
before glancing over at Quatre. He was a slow test taker, but he
always did better than she did when it was all said and done. Quatre
said it was because he listened to the teaching of the chalk on
blackboard. And because he did not dance with elephants in the wee
hours of the morning.
The ad begs "buy bottled water"
But we know that it tastes of piss
Should be getting our tampons free
DIY gynecology
Relena wandered through the airport to find her luggage. The signs
were incredibly foreign, but every once and a while she'd spot a word
in English or French that she would recognize.
She found the right station, she hoped, and leaned against a pillar
watching the luggage spill into the room and rotate on the ramp. Eager
passengers that she recognized from the flight over reclaimed their
baggage and left. Nothing with her baby blue signature fabric tumbled
down.
She'd learned what patience was after six years. After graduation,
Trowa had decided that he was going to limit his circus time in order
to put himself through college. He also picked up a little work as a
bartender. He never sold anything to minors. Sylvia had cried for
weeks after he left, but went to her own university to practice law.
She said that she needed something to really concentrate on or she'd
never stop crying. But during the summer, she always interned at the
offices closest to the circus and was it's most faithful and welcome
audience member.
Relena's eyes started to cross as she devoted her attention to where
her baggage should appear.
Then she'd received an invitation to Japan. Actually, the invitation
had been extended to her entire family. Heero Yuy and his partner had
successfully built the first independent-thinking and human-looking
robot. They had named it Solo after the American half of the
partnership's deceased brother. Quatre had thought that was a bit
morbid, but Relena had slugged him saying it was endearing.
"You made it." A familiar male voice called.
Relena took her eyes off of the baggage claim to see her blond darling.
"Quatre." She smiled lazily, and started to saunter toward him.
"It's good to see you too, darling." Quatre said teasingly. Relena
could see his ears turning red. She smiled. Stopping to run one of
her slender fingers along the edge of his ear before greeting him with
a kiss.
"How was your flight?" Relena purred.
Quatre smiled down at her, "Lovely. The plane got here in no time and
I've simply been waiting for you."
"I'm waiting for my luggage." Relena explained.
"Well, you know that cheaper flights give cheaper service, darling."
Quatre played with the ends of her hair. "But you had to do it
yourself, huh?"
"Yes," Relena laughed, "you know I had to use that money we made years
ago someday. And this was the only way how."
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
the end.
(Hee hee. Well, Jerr, that one's for you.)
***
She's a Millionaire
by Catatonia
***
Her treasured chest was sunken
Equally cursed and blessed
In her Versace dress
Too eager to impress
A vision filled her soap sud hell
Twin tub on spin
Let's all her daydreams in
And how she wants away from him
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
Height straight prams
Chariot scene from Ben Hur
Push chair rage
Accustomized roll bar cage
Will help baby come of age
So what's in the pram
Is it teen death?
Bazooka the check out cue
There's no need to argue
About who was in front of who
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
The ad begs "buy bottled water"
But we know that it tastes of piss
Should be getting our tampons free
DIY gynecology
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
by Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: No, this is not a spoof based on a famous game show.
They have nothing in common. What is rather unexpected is that this a
story about Relena. It's set alternate reality and will contain no
blatant Relena-bashing. Why? Well, first of all to see if I could,
and secondly to honor our friend Jerr who has so patiently endured my
extreme Dorothy fandom. I even picked a Catatonia song for the
occasion. Enjoy. I will never write another Relena fanfic again.
It's totally out of my system.)
***
She's a Millionaire
***
Her treasured chest was sunken
Equally cursed and blessed
In her Versace dress.
Too eager to impress.
"What's wrong, Relena?" The willowy blond girl slid next to her party
companion and linked arms. The ballroom was dimly lit by candle light
hanging from elegantly cut chandeliers. It was a rather fancy outing,
but after the Peacecraft family had made a fortune in the shipping
business they could afford to go.
Relena chewed on her bottom lip, surveying the sea of dancers before
glancing over at her friend. "I'm not sure, this isn't exactly the
sort of thing I thought my brother would enjoy."
The other girl followed Relena's gaze to the taller blond who almost
stood head and shoulders above his dancing partner. Milliardo
Peacecraft was the reluctant heir to the Peacecraft business. He
reluctantly attended the organization's meetings and more forcefully
shunned the social gatherings required by his station. But lately, the
heated protests that were generated by her brother's presence in the
her father's study had subsided. Milliardo had actually insisted that
Relena prepare herself more quickly so that he could get to the evening
festivities faster.
"It looks like he's taken a fancy to that one, whoever she is. I don't
recognize her." The blond shrugged, uninterested in Relena's brother.
"But you look simply darling. Is that a new gown."
Relena freed her arm from the other girl's grasp and pulled up on her
skirt a bit. It was a simple blue gown that had just enough wiggle
room it in that she could sit down for dinner without fear of
suffocation or popping a designer button. "No, I haven't worn this
before." She felt somewhat suffocated anyway. The entire atmosphere
of the evening was almost too much. "Sylvia, who is that with my
brother?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Look again."
Sylvia sighed and focused on the older Peacecraft and his short haired
girl fascination. They had stopped waltzing and moved to the side to
chat with the older crowd. Obviously, Milliardo was warming toward his
obligations as the oldest son. The majority of the wall flowers were
the older generation that scattered themselves across various
comfortable couches and lounge chairs. Several waiters hovered between
them eagerly serving drinks and offering appetizers. The only people
standing besides Relena's brother and his dark partner were their
mirror opposites, a dark man and his cornsilk haired companion.
The more interesting factor in the equation was the masculine stranger.
Even at their distance, his serious eyes seemed to pierce the watching
girls' imaginations. He might have been a dangerous pirate ravaging
their ship and they would have asked to go along with him. Just to be
near that fascinating darkness.
A vision filled her soap sud hell
Twin tub on spin
Let's all her daydreams in
And how she wants away from him
Relena maneuvered around the evenings events trying to position herself
near the dark stranger, but forces were against her. She tried several
times to catch his eye, but he seemed intently focused on whoever he
was speaking with. His blond accomplice was never far either. Sylvia
Noventa, who was braver and less famous than the Peacecraft daughter,
wormed her way nearer to the object of their intrigue.
Relena squirmed with frustration. She sensed the liquid slip from her
glass before she saw it and by that instinct was able to avoid staining
her dress. Staring at the ground in disbelief she watched the small
pools of wet gather on the polished floor.
Immediately a servant came up and cleaned the mess. "No worries, Miss
Peacecraft."
"Thank you." She whispered diplomatically, glancing over to see if
Sylvia had made any progress. With the distraction of the movement,
she'd lost track of the dark stranger's moment by moment location.
"He's the cousin of the girl, Dorothy Catalonia." Sylvia whispered
very near Relena's right shoulder. "Remember her, Relena? She was at
our school for a semester several years ago before her family moved to
the States. She's back to visit for the holiday and brought Heero with
her."
"Heero?" Relena let the word sound off her tongue for the first time.
Her voice caught on the *r* naturally, but Sylvia chuckled at the
smitten sound of it.
"Good grief, Relena. Get a hold of yourself."
"What else do you know?"
"He's Japanese, but studied abroad at the same place Dorothy was
getting her education. She's graduating with a focus in farming, can
you believe . . ."
"Farming?" Relena wrinkled her nose.
"Well, agriculture anyway." Sylvia shrugged. "Maybe she likes to
garden, who knows?"
"Back to Heero." Relena liked the sound of it the second time as well.
"Well, it seems he's interested in piloting. Someone, oh yes, that
Winner fellow, mentioned that Heero might go into the army." Sylvia
helped herself to a glass of champagne as the brisk attendant swept by
them.
"Oh my, you shouldn't drink that." Relena scolded.
Sylvia winked then tipped her head to the retreating waiter, "He didn't
notice, did he?"
"Actually . . ." Relena tried not to laugh as the young waiter gently
pushed through the guests to scold the underage drinker.
"Excuse me, miss." He began, lifting one finger to emphasize his
authority. "Sylvia?"
"Oh," Sylvia chuckled, blushing deeply and dropping her eyes.
"Trowa Barton, I thought you were with the circus?" Relena greeted
their school chum. "Whatever are you doing here?"
"Unlike most of you attending our preppy high school, I have to pay for
my own way." Trowa scolded them with a slight teasing lilt to his
voice. "Quatre knew I was looking for a little extra cash and offered
to let me help bus tables this evening after the show. When one of the
floor waiters called in sick . . ."
"But aren't you too young to distribute alcohol?" Relena asked, but
she only half listened to Trowa's answer as she surveyed the audience
for the Japanese guest.
"Don't think about it too much," Trowa shrugged. Then noticing
Relena's distraction pondered, "Hey, what's with her?" He asked Sylvia
who was still studying the design of the floor nearest her feet.
"Oh," Sylvia tried again, "Well, she's rather intrigued with Dorothy's
cousin."
"Dorothy?" Trowa suddenly seemed interested. "I always liked her."
"You never talked to her." Sylvia snapped, a tad frustrated.
"I know, but she was kind of cute." Trowa started to look around
himself. "But, yeah, I heard that she was here and had Heero along
with her."
"What do you know about Heero?" Relena asked, hoping that Trowa might
be more helpful with information than he was about getting them drinks.
"Not much, just that he's engaged." Trowa shrugged.
"You're kidding." Sylvia's mouth dropped open. Relena looked even
more devastated.
"Nope. I'm pretty sure that he's engaged. Some sort of Japanese
tradition." The gangly boy shifted from one leg to the other. Sylvia
had begun to smile bashfully at him and that always made Trowa nervous.
"Um. I gotta go." Trowa spun and one heel and hurried off to offer a
much older woman Sylvia's glass of champagne.
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
"I will not daydream about Heero Yuy." Relena was scribbling in her
algebra notebook while the instructor lectured on some useful equation
that would probably help her with the next exam. She didn't care. She
could pay Trowa to tutor her later. That was her charity.
"I will not daydream about Heero Yuy." She wrote it again in bubble
letters, letting the *Y's* in "Yuy" curl off the page and into
impossibly.
Then she practiced writing "Relena Yuy." She wrinkled her nose,
crossed it out and tried again. "Heero Peacecraft." Relena couldn't
help but snicker.
Someone near her coughed, and Relena looked up to see Quatre Winner
staring at her purposefully from his desk across the aisle, then
glancing toward the front of the class room. Almost fearful, Relena
deliberately let her eyes shift to see whatever Quatre was directing
her toward. Had the teacher called on her? No, he had his back to the
class and was blissfully sketching out algebraic problems with loving
strokes of chalk.
She wrinkled her forehead and glared back at Quatre. His mouth formed
the word, "No." Then something else she couldn't decipher. Relena
hated people who thought she could lip-read.
"What?" She hissed.
Quatre tried shaping his lips around the same word several times, but
refused to speak outloud. He picked up his pencil and began to write
something. When he had finished he tapped it with the eraser. Relena
leaned across the aisle but couldn't decipher his chicken scratching.
"What?" She whispered.
"Do you need something, Relena?" The instructor loved his chalkboard,
but he hated having the melody of it's screeching interrupted by the
unnecessary voices of children.
Just as she turned to answer the teacher, Relena saw Sylvia at the
door, gesturing wildly.
"I need to pee." Relena said recklessly. Several of the other
students snickered. And Quatre visibly slumped back in his seat,
embarrassed and relieved that his part in the mischief was over.
"Take the *restroom* pass and go." The instructor frowned, and turned
back to the board. "Now where was I?" He began to caress the dark
surface with his mathematical musings.
Relena swooped up the pass as she quickly fled the classroom. "What do
you want, Sylvia?" She asked as soon as the door was closed.
"Trowa was wrong."
"What?"
"Heero isn't engaged." Sylvia said, somewhat deflated that Relena
hadn't guessed. "But, then I asked myself, how could anyone our age be
engaged in this generation--no matter what culture your from! I knew
he had to be wrong so I asked around."
"Good grief, Sylvia." Relena slapped her forehead, "I hope that this
doesn't get back to him--all your probing, that is."
"He's here to earn money to go back to Japan and study something.
Apparently, he's in cahoots with one of his classmates from the States
and they're looking for some sort of endowment to begin a project as
well." Sylvia rattled on, spilling her information as quickly as she
could.
Feeling giddy and nervous, Relena pulled Sylvia with her in the
direction of the bathroom. "I need to pee." Relena giggled.
Perched on the vanity counter, Sylvia told Relena everything that she
knew. And she admitted that it was Trowa who had set the record
straight.
"So, you wouldn't have known if Trowa hadn't been decent and set the
record straight for us?" Relena was too smitten with her dark stranger
to really scold her friend.
"Something like that." Sylvia admitted, "Don't give him too much
credit!"
"So," Relena added, "Do we know how well his petition worked at the
party this weekend? Did he get his grant? Or earn enough money?"
"I don't think so." Sylvia shrugged. "But if he stays here all the
better, right?"
"No." Relena sunk her head into her hands, "He'll just go back to the
States, I know it." She paused, "We've got to find some way to get him
the money he needs."
"You're the millionaire." Sylvia said coolly.
"Not quite, it's my father." Relena's eyes were unfocused across her
nose. She always went a little cross-eyed when she was serious
contemplating a scheme to meet a boy. And she reassured herself that
that was all, she simply wanted to meet him and help him along to fully
realize his dream.
Height straight prams
Chariot scene from Ben Hur
"What?" Trowa frowned, a little offended. "You make me tutor you for
income, and then you see this dashing young man across the ballroom and
decide you're going to just give him money?"
"That's not the deal," Relena backpedalled a bit. Trowa wasn't really
a penny pincher, but he was a tiny bit insecure. It had taken months
for Relena to pry a word out of the new student recluse. She done it
mostly for Sylvia who was extraordinarily fond of the acrobat. "He's
needy too, just a lot more needy than you are. I want to help him
raise the money he needs . . ."
"This is getting better every minute." Quatre leaned against the wall
of Relena's apartment. Her parent's had rented a flat for her so that
she could be closer to her school. Quatre's parents had done the same
and he lived on the floor just beneath her. He accused her of rowdy
dancing, Relena called it aerobics. Quatre usually retorted something
about safari animals and elephants. Today, she wasn't interested in
their typical banter.
"Focus." Relena said in her best diplomatic voice, "We have to do a
service project anyway. Why not raise money for the Japanese hotie?"
Trowa groaned. "Why not simply ask your father?"
"Well, that's too easy." Relena shrugged. "If I'm--we're going to
make a donation, we need to use our money." Trowa snorted. "But we
can always milk our parents."
"Your parents." Trowa snorted again. Quatre started to laugh.
Sylvia had been quiet up to that point, gazing rather unashamably at
her favorite circus performer. "I think that Relena has some good
ideas, and we do need service hours. That much is reward for helping."
"I could give elementary students tours of the circus backstage."
Trowa mumbled stubbornly, but not wanting to too loudly protest Sylvia.
"I could visit the elderly." Quatre piped up. "Why take people's
money?"
"It's for a good cause." Relena protested.
Quatre still looked doubtful. "What are these ideas?"
"Well, we could babysit." The boys groaned. "Remember, Trowa, you
were the one who suggested elementary students!" Relena continued
quickly, "Or we could sell tickets to see Ben Hur in my dad's theater."
Quatre frowned, "Ben Hur might be my favorite movie, but I don't think
that you're supposed to sell tickets to see it . . ."
Relena smiled her most winning smile, "Don't worry. Daddy'll make
everything okay."
Push chair rage
Accustomized roll bar cage
Will help baby come of age
"This is hardly more successful than the movie showing." Trowa
protested out of one side of his mouth while reading a fairy tale to
twenty kids. Twenty kids who had wrestled him out of his chair and
were clinging to his various toothpick like limbs. One young girl had
a firm grasp on both of his ears and was making kissy-faces. "This
story is not Snow White OR Sleeping Beauty." He reminded the toddler
firmly.
"Patience, Trowa darling." Relena said as she walked by, surveying the
damages and estimating what sort of chunk that would take out of their
profits. The movie showing hadn't been terribly successful. Most of
her parents friends and Quatre's entire Maganac Film Club went to the
flick. Trowa had taken Sylvia but they insisted it wasn't as much a
date as for the "cause." Relena wished she had increased the price of
admission when the turnout had been so much less than the thousands she
had expected.
The hero of the evening hadn't come. Relena had pulled at the ends of
her hair and started chewing at them when the movie had started.
"Where is he?" She had asked Sylvia. Sylvia had replied, "But I
didn't invite him, I thought this was supposed to be a secret
donation?"
"Secret?" Relena snorted as she walked past Sylvia and Quatre who were
trying to keep the younger kids in their pens, er, cribs. As soon as
one tot was replaced and Quatre went to chorale another small person,
the original one would be half escaped.
"What's good about a secret donation? I want to meet Heero." She
kicked at a loose block and barely missed hitting a mass of wiggling
little bodies. "Oops." Relena let her fingers trace her lips and she
wondered what kissing was like. She had caught Trowa and Sylvia behind
the bleachers one afternoon when it was warmer outside, but Sylvia
wouldn't talk about it.
This was not going according to plan exactly. She kept figuring the
figures in her head, but no amount of magic algebra chalk was going to
make the number big enough to help Heero.
So what's in the pram
Is it teen death?
"So we failed." Sylvia sniffed, near tears. Expectedly, Trowa
appeared to hover behind her, just in case Sylvia's legs decided not to
work anymore.
"Thanks for putting it so kindly." Relena's diplomacy had slipped out
the back door while she had shooed the last pesky children from her
parent's recreation room. Not even the pastel palm prints that covered
craft leader Quatre's body from head to foot could urge her lips to
smile.
"Well, we did make a little money." Trowa offered kindly. "We could
give that."
"It's just terribly unfair." Relena protested with her righteous
indignation reflamed. "He should get to live out his dream!"
"It's not like the guy was expecting you to pay his way home." Quatre
frowned, unhappy with how distressed this stranger was making their
friend. Relena might overdue the theatrics upon occasion, but she had
a good heart.
"I might as well hide forever." Relena pushed her fists into her
eyesockets, thinking to herself that if she never saw the daylight
again she couldn't have been punished enough. "What a failure."
"Now, now." Quatre said, slumping to sit on the ground. Starting to
feel the exhaustion. He glanced down at his re-painted clothing and
grimaced. Then, he started to smile. Then chuckle.
Quatre laughed. Trowa and Sylvia started to snicker, and she really
did fall back into Trowa's expecting arms.
Relena started to vibrate with fury. How could they laugh? But then
her spasms turned into her very own fit of fanatic laughter. She sunk
to the floor and her tummy started to ache from the exertion. She
bumped into Quatre, and then they lapsed into another round of jolly
belly-chuckles.
"At least we got out community service done." Trowa struggled with his
English as Sylvia continued to laugh against him. "Early even."
"Silver-lining spotter!" Quatre accused, holding his stomach, and
laughing harder every time Relena rolled into him.
"Oh, just take the money, Trowa." Relena gasped, "We all know you want
it."
Trowa protested weakly.
Bazooka the check out cue
There's no need to argue
About who was in front of who
After cleaning the recreation room from their babysitting adventures,
the four friends found themselves back again for further Heero oriented
festivities. Apparently, Heero's cousin had managed to raise the money
for Heero's project. The Peacecraft family had offered to host the
event since the young man's name sounded so familiar. None of them
exactly remembered the name as the dark stranger Relena had recently
been devoted to.
Sylvia and Relena hovered in the back corner, avoiding Heero as he
circulated the guests at all costs. Relena sighed remembering how
eagerly she had tried to catch his eye just weeks before.
"Look out, he's coming." Trowa whispered as he hurried past, coat
tails flying. Relena had insisted her parents include him along with
the regular serving staff. She assured them that he never gave alcohol
to minors.
"Where? Where?" Relena whispered after him just as she felt Sylvia's
cool fingers grasp her arm. She stiffened when she heard her brother's
familiar voice.
"Oh yes." The deep baritone slid a little nasally as he approached his
younger sibling. "And this is my kid sister, Relena."
She turned, ever so painfully slowly, focusing past her brother--who
she would punish later--and onto Dorothy Catalonia.
"Relena, this is Dorothy . . ."
"We've met." Relena said sharply, her voice a pitch higher than normal
as she struggled to release her tension slowly, like a balloon leaking
it's helium.
"Yes." Dorothy smiled coyly, "We've met before. But I think Milliardo
wanted to introduce you to . . ."
Relena's balloon spontaneously caught it's breath as she saw . . . him.
"I'm Heero Yuy." Heero glanced at everyone, seeming puzzled. "I think
I'm the person they meant to introduce to you anyway."
"Hi." Relena said dumbly, mouthing the word and letting some sound out
of her rigid form.
"But I suppose you know all about him anyway." Milliardo easily
surveyed the crowd over Relena's head. "This party is to celebrate his
good fortune."
"I . . ." Heero started, just as Dorothy wrapped her arm through his
and pulled him after Milliardo who had spotted his dark haired beauty.
"You must meet Lucrezia!" Milliardo insisted, setting off at a brisk
pace.
Relena had yet to close her mouth from her first utterance. She felt
her ears burning and wished she hadn't pulled her hair back for the
evening. But Heero was gone.
She watch him go. Slowly she regained her hearing through the ringing
red ears. She suddenly regained a sense of her body, and Sylvia's
fingernails firmly embedded in her arm.
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" Relena gasped. "Sylvia let go!"
"Sorry." Sylvia blushed. "He was gorgeous."
"Who was gorgeous?" Quatre asked walking up to fill the place that
Heero had just left. Relena felt relieved to see a friend take it.
"You are." Relena chuckled anxiously, somewhat regaining her sense of
humor.
"Really," Quatre said with bravado, but his ears were turning red,
"Tell me why."
"Later," Relena promised as Sylvia pulled on her bruised arm.
"Let's go tell Trowa off." Sylvia giggled gleefully, "Some informant
he is!"
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
Relena was doodling in her notebook again. This time she had finished
an exam early. Thanks to Trowa, she had learned her algebra formulas
in time. When they had been poured over the text, she offered him the
money they had earned.
"No one else could really *use* it." Relena insisted, "And it was
earned as a service project. We're proud that you're financing your
own education. That's incredibly noble you realize."
Trowa had actually blushed at something other than Sylvia. "Nevermind
that." He whispered. "Put it away and use it sometime to fly to
Japan." He had filtered that all into his explanation of why the
quadratic formula was important to know. Relena simply smiled.
She doodled in the margins, "Sylvia Barton." She made the *y* extra
loopy. Chewing on the end of her pencil she pondered things a minute
before glancing over at Quatre. He was a slow test taker, but he
always did better than she did when it was all said and done. Quatre
said it was because he listened to the teaching of the chalk on
blackboard. And because he did not dance with elephants in the wee
hours of the morning.
The ad begs "buy bottled water"
But we know that it tastes of piss
Should be getting our tampons free
DIY gynecology
Relena wandered through the airport to find her luggage. The signs
were incredibly foreign, but every once and a while she'd spot a word
in English or French that she would recognize.
She found the right station, she hoped, and leaned against a pillar
watching the luggage spill into the room and rotate on the ramp. Eager
passengers that she recognized from the flight over reclaimed their
baggage and left. Nothing with her baby blue signature fabric tumbled
down.
She'd learned what patience was after six years. After graduation,
Trowa had decided that he was going to limit his circus time in order
to put himself through college. He also picked up a little work as a
bartender. He never sold anything to minors. Sylvia had cried for
weeks after he left, but went to her own university to practice law.
She said that she needed something to really concentrate on or she'd
never stop crying. But during the summer, she always interned at the
offices closest to the circus and was it's most faithful and welcome
audience member.
Relena's eyes started to cross as she devoted her attention to where
her baggage should appear.
Then she'd received an invitation to Japan. Actually, the invitation
had been extended to her entire family. Heero Yuy and his partner had
successfully built the first independent-thinking and human-looking
robot. They had named it Solo after the American half of the
partnership's deceased brother. Quatre had thought that was a bit
morbid, but Relena had slugged him saying it was endearing.
"You made it." A familiar male voice called.
Relena took her eyes off of the baggage claim to see her blond darling.
"Quatre." She smiled lazily, and started to saunter toward him.
"It's good to see you too, darling." Quatre said teasingly. Relena
could see his ears turning red. She smiled. Stopping to run one of
her slender fingers along the edge of his ear before greeting him with
a kiss.
"How was your flight?" Relena purred.
Quatre smiled down at her, "Lovely. The plane got here in no time and
I've simply been waiting for you."
"I'm waiting for my luggage." Relena explained.
"Well, you know that cheaper flights give cheaper service, darling."
Quatre played with the ends of her hair. "But you had to do it
yourself, huh?"
"Yes," Relena laughed, "you know I had to use that money we made years
ago someday. And this was the only way how."
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
the end.
(Hee hee. Well, Jerr, that one's for you.)
***
She's a Millionaire
by Catatonia
***
Her treasured chest was sunken
Equally cursed and blessed
In her Versace dress
Too eager to impress
A vision filled her soap sud hell
Twin tub on spin
Let's all her daydreams in
And how she wants away from him
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
Height straight prams
Chariot scene from Ben Hur
Push chair rage
Accustomized roll bar cage
Will help baby come of age
So what's in the pram
Is it teen death?
Bazooka the check out cue
There's no need to argue
About who was in front of who
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire
The ad begs "buy bottled water"
But we know that it tastes of piss
Should be getting our tampons free
DIY gynecology
She's on it, she's a millionaire
She's on it, she's got it
She's a millionaire