I'm not quite sure where this came from, honestly. I was cleaning my face after posting that it would probably be some time before I write another GW fic, and suddenly I'm pinged by this one. It started out a Heero/Relena story, but obviously, that's not the way it ended up. I like it this way.
Pairings:
4xR
Dedication:
Sara
A Matter of Timing
A Gundam Wing Vignette
By: Yuuki Miyaka
It started in the bathroom the night of her twenty-eighth birthday. The day itself had been filled with presents and good wishes, as well as the occasional old-age joke from her friends. She bore the jokes and teasing with her usual elegant grace, the comments seeming to wash over her without making a lasting impression. But that night found her gazing into the mirror, noting for the first time the tiny wrinkles a few white hairs interspersed with her normal blonde. She carefully dabbed the creams and ointments that claimed to keep old-age at bay over her face, resolving to get a facial as soon as possible. But work claimed her the next day, and she forgot all about it.
The next night, Kate Willis made a joke about her age on national television. It wasn't surprising, or shouldn't have been, at least. Kate Willis was the satirical wit behind the talk show of the same name, and Relena had been on the receiving end of her caustic comments before. Nonetheless, as she readied herself for bed that evening, she once more examined her features, certain that they were a touch duller than normal, showing a little more age.
She wanted to believe she was growing old gracefully, but the more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. Mentally, she began to pick at herself, revealing flaw after flaw. It was a downward spiral, and one she couldn't seem to break out of. Her husband was off on a business trip, so he was not even available to talk her out of the dark thoughts clouding her mind. And by the time he was due home at the end of that week, she was researching different brands of anti-wrinkle cream.
The day he was to arrive home, he called to cancel for lunch, claiming that he'd been delayed two more days. She hung up the phone after the call and wondered if perhaps he was having an affair with someone prettier, sexier. Younger, her mind supplied, making her frown and head to the bathroom for another look. She resolved to pick up the top brand of anti-wrinkle cream on her way home that night. And she did just that.
Entering the house that night was a surprise. She found candles everywhere, and a small note directing her to the dining room. She left the cream behind, following the note, and found a beautiful gourmet, candlelight dinner ready for her, complete with a husband to eat it with.
"You said you were delayed!" At her shocked look, Quatre began to laugh.
"I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry I couldn't be here for your birthday," he said, ushering her into a chair and setting a present down beside her plate. "I hope this will make up for it."
She opened the present eagerly, tossing the wrapping paper into an empty place at the table. Inside the box was a framed poem by George Gordon, Lord Byron. She blinked, reading the words that spoke of beauty unsurpassed, elegance and grace. She looked up at him, and he smiled, gesturing back to the box, and she lifted the poem away to reveal a set of comfortable, cotton pajamas. That made her laugh, and she glanced back at Quatre. "There's more," he assured her, so she lifted away the nightclothes. Beneath them, she found another set, these elegantly risqué. When she met his eyes a third time, he said gently, "Because I find maturity sexy."
She smiled, forgetting all about dinner. And forgetting, too, about the anti-wrinkle cream.