AN: well…it has been awhile hasn't it? 'So Close…' has been put on hold until I'm inspired to write more… I have the final chapter half written…the ending is jus a tad…uncooperative… anyhow… I have been writing other things… this is my first GW one-shot… more of a vignette than anything but… yeah… I got some great feedback from ppl so I decided…what the heck… i'll post it here… C&C are appreciated!
OrdinaryBy Miaka Mouse ?__)~
The sunlight filtered through the clouds with heavenly rays, illuminating scattered chosen spots on the walk. The warm breeze ruffled the lush green leaves of the maples, and the songbirds fluttered up into the air. They circled the trees lazily, floating higher and higher, barely touching the intimidating office building that cast an ominous shadow upon them. The glass reflected the sunlight in bright flashes, blinding the poor birds every now and then, causing them to falter in their hypnotizing dance. The figure behind the office window watched them wistfully, yearning for the freedom to fly so freely, even to falter as they did, without fear of anyone watching. A loud buzz interrupted the peaceful musings of the office occupant. Startled, she pushed the impatiently flashing red button on her desk.
"Yes?"
"Ms. Peacecraft, I'm leaving for my lunch break now. Did you need anything?" came a high-pitched reply from the intercom speaker.
"No, that's fine, Marcy. Enjoy your lunch." Ten, even five years earlier, her comment would have been spoken with an almost naïve cheerfulness that would have lifted anyone's heart. Now it was said with a realistic matter-of-factness, denoting a sense of formality. It was almost a given that the Foreign Minister would continue working while others took their hourly break. After all, she was supposed to be perfect. A symbol of peace, fixed on a pedestal. Statues didn't need to eat or sleep, so why should she? She rolled her shoulders and felt the crick of her neck before finally picking up a pen to do some more work. I don't even get to take a coffee break, Relena mused as she stared down at the tiny black print on the document in front of her. A soft thump caused her to look up from the paper and toward the window where one of the twirling birds had clumsily bumped its wing. Oh hell, why not? If something as graceful as a bird can fly into a window, I can afford to go out and get some coffee. She grabbed her long black coat and headed out the office door. She supposed she ought to let security know she was leaving, but they would insist on her taking an escort (read: bodyguard) with her. That would be no good considering she wanted to do this with as little fuss as possible.
Of course, the moment she stepped outside it started raining. How could she have expected anything else? But Relena was determined (as she always was) to find advantages in the situation. Ten years ago, she would have greeted the rain with a blissful abandon that escaped her now. She remembered a time when she loved rain as a blessing of Nature. However, at this point in time, she couldn't very well spread her arms and twirl around in it. Never mind the attention the 27-year-old Foreign Minister would attract with such a spectacle, but also taking into account that her afternoon meetings would not be received well if she showed up soaking wet.
So, she took comfort in the fact that the rain would force people to keep their gazes lowered and their attentions focused on getting to drier surroundings, instead of on their truant Foreign Minister. With a superfluous duck of her head, Relena made her way down the sidewalk towards her favorite café. Might as well indulge while I have the chance, she reflected as she spotted the swinging sign of her caffeine dispenser of choice.
Keeping her gaze lowered, she made her way through the throng of people who were also on their lunch breaks. As the crowd diverged, she noticed the homeless people sitting underneath the overhang of the café. Their heads were bowed, like reeds in the wind, and they had wrapped newspapers around themselves as shelter against the cold. She slowed to regard them thoughtfully, their state causing a deep pang in her chest. She wondered about their past and what had led them to this position. Could they be soldiers, unable to find a place for themselves in a world of peace? Could one of them be Heero? She looked a bit longer at them, but none raised their heads to meet her eyes. Would she even recognize him if she saw him now, after ten years? Her contact with him had been brief during the wars and even more fleeting during the Barton Incident. She thought she had memorized his face back then, but now she could hardly conjure his features in her mind's eye. The only things that stood out were those intense blue eyes that seemed so determined. Every now and then she would imagine those eyes watching her, urging her to work hard for peace, for him.
The jangling of the bells on the door as she entered the café startled her out of her musings. Lunch time rush hour poured over her like welcome heat, drowning out the street noise and the clack of her heels on the tile floor. The line was moving quickly and customers were pushing past her to the exit without so much as an 'excuse me'.
She hadn't felt so relaxed in months.
She moved forward as the cashier called out 'next' without even looking up at her.
"Nonfat mocha latte with whipped cream," Relena ordered matter-of-factly.
"Would you like anything else with that?" She perused the bakery case.
"Half a dozen blueberry scones," she replied after a thought, "and could you warm them up, please?" She moved forward to pay, making sure to use cash so as not to be recognized. She could just imagine the look on the man's face if she handed him a credit card bearing her name on it.
"You can pick up your purchase at the end of the counter." He said curtly before calling out to the next customer. She had to admit the service was quick, if not friendly. They lidded the drink, of course, which completely defeated the purpose of the whipped cream in her opinion. Still, she probably shouldn't call attention to herself any more than necessary. She couldn't believe her luck in not being recognized.
And as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she found herself flying through the air. It seemed she had slipped on one of those damn plastic lids. The first thing that came to mind was the headline that would be reporting her demise. "Minister Breaks Neck on Caffeine Excursion." Lovely.
And then she stopped, angled at a perfect 45 degrees, which shouldn't have been physically possible. The long arms that had interrupted her fall pulled her up into a standing position before asking if she was all right. Physically she was fine, thanks to the man connected to those arms, but she suddenly realized that though her bag of scones was securely held in one hand, the mocha was nowhere to be found.
"My coffee!" she exclaimed suddenly, glancing down at her suit, expecting the worst. One arm extended from behind her to reveal her coffee cup completely intact.
"Now we know the spill-proof lids actually work," the man's deep voice commented with a hint of amusement that was somewhat hard to catch. Finally, her eyes decided to focus on her (and her coffee's) savior. Wearing a tailored charcoal suit with a royal blue dress-shirt and metallic gray tie, he was the archetype of the well-dressed executive. His dark hair was combed back perfectly, but his designer wire-framed glasses seemed incongruous. She was surprised that he was actually attractive, and then suddenly bittered by her own surprise. Of course attractive men exist in the world. You just don't meet them that often, she scolded herself.
"Are you all right?" he repeated his first question.
"Yes, thank you," she said with a practiced smile that almost bordered on sincere. "I'm sorry about that."
"No need to apologize, but you really should be more careful." Now she realized why she didn't like his glasses. It was impossible to read the expression in his eyes with the light reflecting in odd angles off the lenses. Did he know who she was? Had he recognized her?
She didn't have time for this. If she didn't get back to the office soon, they would declare a global emergency.
"I'll try to keep that in mind." She turned to walk out the door and realized the man was right behind her. As she stepped out into the rain, she heard his umbrella snap open and felt the lack of precipitation as its shelter came overhead. The attractive man was a little too close for comfort and she felt uncharacteristically flustered. "Excuse me, but I'm fine. I don't need--"
"You seemed so concerned about your clothing earlier, I thought you'd appreciate some protection from the rain." Did he have to make so much sense too? Maybe he'd leave once he observed her "delivery". She turned toward the homeless men sitting along the sidewalk and crouched down next to them. The umbrella stayed put over her head. Damn. Rich people can never stand being too close to the poor. Could he actually be a good man? Attractive and noble? Impossible. That clinched it. He knew who she was.
Her companion waited patiently as she handed the bag of warm scones to the homeless man, smiling and whispering for him to remember to share. As she stood, she looked her "shadow" squarely in the face. He spoke before she even had the chance to open her mouth.
"How can you take time to do things like that? Don't you do enough for society already?" His tone wasn't accusing or disgusted or even awed. It was simply matter-of-fact and it caught her off guard.
"I--" she stuttered, before quickly recovering, "my job isn't as satisfying as it used to be. I don't see as much progress or benefit to the people with all the bureaucracy that seems to get in the way." She paused, regarding him with a skeptical look. "You're not some sort of reporter or assassin, are you?" His mouth tilted in a crooked smile, an action that seemed to be unfamiliar to his tight lips.
"I'm definitely not a reporter."
"Oh good. I always got along better with the latter anyway." Softening her gaze, she bowed slightly to him before turning and walking away abruptly. The well-dressed man watched her leave, as he stood there in the drizzling rain in his gray suit, with his black umbrella amidst a river of bustling pedestrians.
**********************************
AN: hope u enjoyed that… sequel to come soon
