Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or Sailor Moon. But I do own Gundam Wing AND Sailor Moon. ^_____^ :ducks: Okay, okay! Kidding, kidding. Sheesh. (have I used this one before?)

Thanks to my editors, Lady Artemis, Autumn Hime, Usagi Asia Maxwell, and DevilsDarling. They're probably all laughing at you guys because THEY never suffered a cliffhanger. Lol. (I emailed it all to them at once. ^____~)

Chapter 8: Irrevocability

She smiled at him. "Quatre, I…"

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing?" Gasping and whirling around, she met the fiery eyes of a royally pissed off Hiiro. He stormed over to them, brows knitted with fury and face set in a hard mask of hatred. Quatre slowly stood up beside her and frowned warningly at his comrade's outburst, stepping in front of the stunned girl protectively.

Gathering her wits quickly, rage kindled tenaciously as her blue eyes sliced into his. "You have NO right to ask me that, Hiiro! This is my apartment just as much as y-"

"You could at least take this outside!"

She mentally recoiled at the antagonism and anguish in his eyes before anger clutched at her heart again. "Who are you to make me feel guilty in my own home?"

"Hiiro, please leave," Quatre commanded softly, still standing between the two.

Only then did the messy-haired man's flaming eyes turn to him. "Stay out of this," he warned quietly before turning back to his blonde roommate.

"You just ruined the most important day of my life!" she cried, trembling with resentment.

"You wanted me to stand by so that he could propose to you?" He pointed heatedly towards the silent man, black box still in hand as he advanced towards her. She faltered back, and Quatre took that opportunity to reinforce his position of protection. Again, Hiiro's eyes were forced to meet with his own unflustered ones.

"Please, Hiiro. Back off. You're scaring-" he started beseechingly before the air left his lungs, and he found himself on the wrong end of Hiiro's 9mm semi-automatic.

The safety clicked off.

……………………

Minako smiled to herself as she sat back on the airplane. The shoot had finished early, and she was good to go. Trading her original tickets for an earlier flight, she was bound to surprise both Hiiro and Usagi.

Her mouth twisted into a grin as she thought back to the most recent job. It was decent, something her agency based in NYC had set up for her.

She thought further back, to the beginning of her career, when she had applied to three different local agencies and had failed to be hired. Now look at her – she was laughing her way to the bank.

Her mind did a quick double-back to Hiiro and Usagi. She sighed guiltily. Her sister must feel so disregarded right now, and it was all her fault. Some sister she ended up being – seeing her younger by four minutes twin after touring the States for more than half a year and then almost utterly ignoring her the past six months. Usagi would be pretty disgruntled when she got around to talking with her … and a disgruntled Usagi was not a pretty sight – she had found that out the hard way.

Digging out a pen from her purse, she scrawled a short schedule upon her napkin. Get home, give Usa and Hii-chan their gifts, sleep, shoot at 10:30 the next day, meeting with personal trainer at 2:00 … Hmmm … guess my sisters-only day with Usagi will have to wait … she frowned.

The airline attendant politely took her tray away as the tired supermodel fell into a deep sleep. Two more hours until I reach Boston…

…………………

Usagi's jaw dropped, and her breath stuck at her throat as Quatre's eyes widened. He slowly raised his hands up in the air, careful to not make any sudden movements. The same distressed blue eyes he had used to meet Hiiro's earlier have smoothed over as he eyed the delicately forged firearm.

"If you shoot him, I will never forgive you, Hiiro." Her blue eyes glittered seriously as she walked past Quatre who turned slowly and backed to the side to allow her room. The gun was still trained on him.

Hiiro's expression remained seamless as the pistol followed Quatre and his eyes moved to meet hers. "What is there to lose? You already never will forgive me," he stated quietly, cold eyes not stirring from hers though she was certain he was monitoring every move Quatre made.

Breathing through softly parted lips, she closed her eyes and sighed. "That isn't true, Hiiro. I have always forgiven you. I have always followed the rule to forgive and forget. But this … this is homicide." Her eyes snapped open to catch his finger tightening around the enticingly beautiful weapon. She rushed forward and grabbed his wrist, forcing it upwards just as he pulled the trigger-

…………………

Traffic was bad even this late … what a downer. She sighed as the scenery inched by and ignored the taxi driver as he expelled several creative profanities to the driver ahead of him. You would think this only occurred in New York … she thought wryly, glad that the driver didn't resort to pounding at the horn like LAST time. An hour-long ride and she'd be back in Boston, spying on Harvard's campus from their apartment window.

She winced again as the driver ahead of them yelled several more expletives back. This was going to be a LONG ride home…

…………………

Click.

She pulled back in confusion as Hiiro slowly released his arm from her grasp. He pulled the trigger again.

Click.

"It's-"

"Empty," he finished, expression devoid of emotion.

Her jaw dropped for the second time that evening. "Y-you knew? What was the point of this if-"

"There is no point. Like my life. Good night, Usagi, Winner. Love and treat her well or…" He aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Quatre blinked as the polished pistol was tossed to Usagi. She fumbled and caught it. Hiiro's eyes never betrayed a single emotion as he turned and strode back to his room.

"Wow … what just happened here?" he heard the blonde woman beside him whisper as she leaned heavily against the couch.

He frowned to himself and gazed after his comrade, perusing the events that just took place in his head. Sighing, he turned to face her, eyes serious.

"Usagi … this isn't right."

"What isn't right?"

He glanced down at the box clutched tightly in his right hand and dropped it back into his pocket, wiping his sweaty palm against his pant-leg. "I shouldn't be proposing to you. I think we can agree that both of us deserve a shot at true love."

His eyes widened as Usagi bowed her head. "I-I mean you're wonderful, dazzlingly perfect, but I really don't-" he started again quickly.

"Thank you," she whispered as he stepped back in shock. Blinking once, a smile pulled over his face.

"Hiiro loves you, you know." He grinned sarcastically at her disbelieving look. "I know it's hard to believe but … you don't understand what type of a situation he is in right now. He has an odd way of showing his emotions." She snorted.

"What type of situation would cause him to threaten his friend like that?" she demanded softly.

Quatre winced. "I-uh, just know that he does love you. I can tell … though maybe even he doesn't realize it yet."

Silence enveloped them as Usagi traced the pattern of the tile with her eyes. Finally, she stood up from her leaning position and managed a smile for Quatre. "I'm really sorry, but I can't see it that way."

"Think about it, okay?" he pleaded as they walked towards the door.

The door opened, and he stepped outside, trying to find the sleeve hole behind his back as half of his coat draped over his shoulder. She didn't answer.

"Good night, Quatre."

…………………

Pace, turn, pace, pace, turn, pace, pace, pace, turn … Finally he stopped in his tracks and fell back onto the bed, bringing his hands up to massage his scalp. A headache brooded over his head like a storm cloud.

Agitation filled him as his acute ears caught the soft murmuring outside before the door opened, and Quatre left. What had they said? Did she accept? …of course she accepted. When was the wedding? Would he be invited, even? But most importantly…

Why did he care?

…………………

She fingered a long strand of golden hair as it gleamed in the cozy living room light. The fan swirled lazily above her, but she didn't have the energy to go turn it off. In the other hand, the delicate pistol rested as she examined it carefully. A Glock 23 9mm semi-automatic. Compact. Fairly powerful and small enough to hide almost anywhere. Versatile would be the word that came to mind. Sighing, she pursed her lips and turned on the TV, muting it. The flashing images of the news moved in front of her unseeing eyes.

Hiiro? Dry-firing a gun at Quatre? Was the gun MEANT to be unloaded? And if it was, what was this action supposed to mean?

A key twisted in the lock, and the door was thrown open. Usagi frowned. Wasn't Minako supposed to…

Her sister burst in, rosy-cheeked and starry-eyed, duffel bag carelessly swung over one shoulder.

"Hey, Usagi! Still up?" she greeted cheerfully before pausing at the item in the blonde's hand.

"What are you doing with Hiiro's gun … oh, no … you're not thinking of-" She rushed to the blonde and snatched it out of her hands. "It's not worth it!"

Usagi had to smile. "I'm not trying to commit suicide, Mina. Don't worry." She patted the seat beside her. "So tell me about your trip."

"I'm too giddy from that airplane coffee to sit down," the blonde giggled slightly and set the gun carefully on the coffee table, obviously relieved. "It was ordinary, run of the mill. We did a few shots, they picked one and I'm going to be advertising for them. Is Hiiro still up?"

Usagi shrugged. "Probably."

Minako's eyes brightened. "Oh! I got some souvenirs from Miami for both of you! You look tired … I'll just give Hiiro his, and you can get yours tomorrow morning, 'kay? You'll be more awake then!"

At her tired nod, Minako backed a few steps to allow her to walk to the stairs.

"Sleep well, little sis!" the red-bowed blonde grinned and flashed her a victory sign.

Usagi rolled her eyes. "You'll never stop rubbing those four minutes in, will you?"

"What use would they be if I don't?" Minako shot back innocently and smiled. "Good night, Usa."

"Good night, Mina."

She turned and climbed up, ears picking up the sound of a gentle knock before the downstairs bedroom door creaked open.

Had she made the right choice? The decision between safety and her dream? She really didn't know.

And she wasn't sure she wanted to, either.

………………….

"Hii-chan! I missed you," she smiled as he looked up from a sheaf of papers. His dark eyes bore into hers before he swung his legs off of the bed. She frowned slightly as he looked away. Nevertheless, she walked over and pecked him on the cheek, her subtle perfume wafting over him.

"I got some things for you while I was in Miami. You know, just souvenirs, things I thought would be perfect for you." She smiled and held up a puppet of Shamu. "See? It even talks!" The killer whale emitted several high-pitched squeaks

He stared at her, suddenly at a loss for words. His right eye began twitching at the ridiculous sight in front of him. She ignored him and tossed it to him before rummaging for more … "things that would be perfect for him".

"Minako. We need to talk."

If the use of her entire name didn't give her a heads up that something was wrong, the statement after it did. The phrase never meant anything good. And she almost knew for sure what she was about to hear.

"You don't have to tell me."

He frowned at her form, turned away from him.

"This is it, right? We're over?" He mentally winced at her soft voice.

"Mina, I consider you a friend-"

She sighed, still turned away from him. "You don't need to soften the blow." Again, he winced at her choice of words. "It's fine, really. I should have seen it coming." She laughed embarassedly as if it were her fault for being dense.

"I'm sorry," he mustered. "You're … wonderful but just-"

"Not Usagi," she finished, laughing lightly. "It's funny how four minutes could make every difference."

She turned around, and he was surprised to her smiling despite the twin tears streaking down her cheeks. Her vibrant blue eyes that captured the hearts of many glowed a soft, peaceful happiness. "I'm happy for the two of you. You two belong together."

He almost sighed in relief.

The souvenir in her hand was set on his bedside table before she slung the duffel bag over her shoulder again, backing out of the room. Before she left, she turned back, tears gone and a dry grin on her face.

"And Hiiro? Don't be the stubborn pig that I know you are. Tell her you love her as soon as possible, all right?"

He threw puppet Shamu at her.

…………………

Above their heads, hardly a few feet away, Usagi slumped on her bed. She wiped furiously at the tears that started streaming down her face, but her efforts proved useless. Finally, giving up, she leaned back and buried her head in her arms as she tried to drown out reality.

…………………

Yes, I realize this whole thing makes Hiiro look horribly insane (many, MANY comments were flung at me about Hiiro needing to attend an anger treatment program), but I'm actually thinking that this portrayal was a whole lot closer to fact than what I've been portraying him as. The real Hiiro is supposed to be VERY suicidal and careless about his life. When we first "meet" him, he is seen, personally, as being VERY sinister, threatening Relena the instant they meet. Since this fic is still during the period of missions (did you realize that? I think a bunch of people forgot), prior to EW, I don't believe he has improved much. Besides – isn't love supposed to rid a person of all sanity? :D Hope this explains my reasoning!

Thanks for reading. Yours, Angel.