AN: here it is! Part 2 of the Ordinary Arc. (I have a story arc! ::giggles::) I'd jus like to address something that prob wasn't clear in the first part… it's been 10 years since the mariemaia incident… so Relena's like 27 yrs old… this part is about a month after the events in 'Ordinary'… and now to respond to the lovely reviews I received! (for those ppl who did not review, shame on u! j/k scroll down to read the story)
Solain: I'm glad ur curious… we find out a little more about our mysterious stranger here…but you'll prob have more questions by the end… don't worry… the final part is in the works.
Dragon princess: the security concerns are somewhat described in this chap… but some things may have to be inferred… I'll see what I can do to clarify in the final part… and about the noble stranger… 10 years is a long time… so it could be anyone… ^_~ I'm glad u liked! I hope you enjoy this part as well
Rhiannon: I'm flattered by your positive review! I s'pose it's my own prejudice in thinking that all 1x2 fans hate Relena… (bad mouse) but I'm glad u liked her in my fic… I was trying to mature her 10 years… I'm glad u think I succeeded… The new part is here! I hope it lives up to ur expectations.
Jaid: ur enthusiasm is encouraging! u loved it? ::feels all warm and fuzzy:: ur wait for more is over! cuz the new part is here! Lemme kno what u think!
Stone: I'm so afraid of writing short fics like this because there's a whole lot more stress on things other than plot… to know I got my point across is really inspiring… thanx for ur comments
Serendipity: was it good? Really? Thank goodness… there seems to be a lack of good relena fics out there these days… (as rhiannon put it) she comes out very pathetic and dependent on Heero… I tried to show her as the political leader she is… so happy u enjoyed it… now try the new part!
Cat: ur wish is granted… the sequel is out! Thanx so much for your review! I really appreciate it!
Now on with the fic…
Complicated
By Miaka Mouse
The breeze danced teasingly around the no-nonsense business people, as if trying to loosen their stuffy moods. It weaved easily through the well-dressed executives, ruffling their silk ties and mussing their well-kempt hair. Relena held back a giggle as the wind tickled her nape, pushing her gaze to the large maple at the edge of the Winner mansion's grounds. She almost imagined the air whispering in her ear, encouraging her to slip off her sling-back sandals and climb away. The tinkling of wine glasses behind her startled her out of those thoughts. She silently scolded the voice in the wind for putting such ideas into her head.
Still, she couldn't expect one coffee break to sustain her need for freedom this long. If anything, it made her want more. No complications had resulted from her leisure trip…well, almost no complications. Her absence would have gone unnoticed if it hadn't been for her overly eager aide barging into her office and tripping the alarm. Half of the security personnel in the building came storming in, only to find it empty (save for the bewildered aide). Relena appeared just moments later, with coffee cup in hand and an odd smile gracing her features. She wore that smile now as she gazed upon the majestic tree in front of her, remembering the best latte she'd ever had and the man who'd 'rescued' it for her.
"I hope you're not planning to climb that tree, " a deep voice interrupted her musings.
"Why Mr. Winner, you know I'd never be caught doing anything so unbecoming of a politician." She smiled wryly, turning to look at him. His face was as pleasant to look at as it had been when he was younger, thought slightly more mature. His jaw line was more pronounced and his eyes, deeper and wiser than they had been during the wars.
"I never said anything about being caught, Miss Relena." He replied innocently, handing her a flute of sparkling cider. "I'm only asking because the tree was imported from L5, and it has been quite difficult to maintain."
"I'm sure," she cocked an eyebrow. "I suppose the grass was also imported?"
"Of course. You know the climate conditions here don't allow for proper agriculture. I had the Maguanacs roll it out this morning." She stared at him for a moment, her face betraying none of the thoughts dancing in her head until Quatre's mouth broke out into a radiant smile, and her own broke out into laughter. Quatre chuckled silently as Relena commented between laughs.
"You really over did it that time, Quatre. I saw it coming from a mile away. No one would buy that from you, not even these stuffed-shirts."
"I'm afraid I haven't quite achieved your mastery of the public façade." Quatre commented wryly. "Speaking of which," he added after a thought, "there's someone who I've been wanting you to meet."
"Oh?" Relena raised a wary eyebrow.
"Don't look at me like that. It's not what you think." Her expression did not waver and he gave a resigned sigh. "I was just going to mention that the man has the mask of civility down to pat. He could give you a run for your money." The suspicious gleam in Quatre's eyes was slightly unnerving, but she asked the question anyway.
"So who is he?" she inquired with hesitant curiosity. He clapped his hands in triumph and proceeded to speak with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
"I've been trying to buy out his company for the past year. If I had known it would become so successful I never would have approved his business loan. Not without a lot of fine print a least," he added the last sentence with a grin. Relena furrowed her eyebrows.
"So why would he be here? I thought your annual picnic luncheon was for investors only. He can't be a shareholder. If you hadn't convinced me that I was paying you back for all your financial support in my projects, I wouldn't be one either." Quatre gave a dramatic huff at her last sentence.
"He will be one," was his determined reply. "All my buyouts include generous shares of Winner stock," he added, assuming his mock pompous pose.
"Oh I imagine so," Relena commented dryly. "Might I know the name of this delightfully stubborn fellow?"
"I'll let him introduce himself," Quatre offered slyly. He led her through the cliques of business people who were laughing at dull anecdotes, trying to keep each other entertained. Her heeled sandals and mid-length pencil skirt made the trip across the lawn somewhat of an ordeal. Finally, they came face to…back with a tall man dressed in an olive suit. Quatre cleared his throat and tapped the man on the shoulder, who then turned and smiled mechanically.
"Quatre."
"You!" Relena's sudden gasp pulled the attention of both men in her direction.
"You know him?" Disbelief, and what looked like pleasant surprise, crept into Quatre's expression. The question startled Relena out of her own dazed amazement.
"We…um...met at a café a few weeks ago."
"Oh." Quatre said, slightly disappointed. "Ohhh!" Sudden realization dawned on him, "the café!" Stressing the final syllable of the word, he smiled knowingly.
Relena shot him a look and turned her gaze back to the impressive man standing before her. He was impeccably dressed, as before, with not a hair out of place, though the playful breeze had long since loosened golden tendrils out of her own carefully styled French twist. His glasses had been replaced by fashionable (and very expensive looking) sunglasses to accommodate the sunny outdoors. He was wearing that strange crooked smile she'd witnessed at their first meeting; much different from the affected one he had shown to Quatre.
"I'm sorry. I don't think I had a chance to properly introduce myself the first time we met." He put out his hand, "Rowan Welling."
"Relena Dorlian," she replied, putting her hand in his. The ruffled sleeve of her silk shirt caressed his fingertips. She was caught off guard when he brought her hand to his lips.
"It's a pleasure, Miss Dorlian," he murmured against her knuckles. Once again she was frustrated at not being able to see the expression in his eyes. His gesture had been one she'd experienced countless times from countless men. Nevertheless, she was uncharacteristically flustered by it and hid her hand behind her back in a nervous gesture once he'd released it. She glanced sideways at Quatre who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. 'Traitor'
"Quatre was telling me how interested he is in buying your company," she began, after regaining her composure. "He neglected to tell me what exactly your company does though." She silently thanked the fates that she'd been blessed with the ability to make small talk.
"We specialize in security systems," he replied vaguely.
"He's being overly modest," Quatre inputted from the side. "He's the founder of Zero Security Inc. You know…'You don't have security-'"
"-Unless you have Zero Security.'" She finished, impressed. "You secure everything. Private homes, computer networks, banks, landmarks…"
"Government buildings," Quatre quipped.
"That's right. My building. The guards are all from your firm."
"As is the alarm system and internet firewall." Rowan added with a matter-of-factness as crisp as his pressed suit.
"You must feel very proud to have reached that level of success at such a young age," Relena commented politely.
"No different than either of you I suspect," he nodded to both of them. They looked away; Quatre, at his shoes and Relena, at the maple tree in the distance. "But I suppose I owe most of my success to Quatre here."
"Let me stop you there, my friend. I'm afraid I don't take complements very well. I'd rather have people talk about me behind my back." His eyes twinkled. "You'll have to excuse me. I have some…hosting duties to attend to." Relena smiled and nodded at him to let him know she was fine on her own. It seemed his gaze lingered on Rowan's face as if looking for something, but the action was too brief for her to analyze. After he'd left, Relena continued the conversation.
"Quatre told me how he was the one who gave you the loan to start your company. But you have to admit that the success was all due to your own skill in business." He gave her another cryptic twist of the mouth that could barely be called a smile. It made her heart swell for a second.
"All skills must be learned, Miss Dorlian." He intoned. "I learned mine at the new Harvard School of Business, with all my tuition paid by the Winner scholarship."
"Oh no," laughter bubbled in her voice. "I helped him form that fund. For veteran soldiers interested in pursuing-"
"-a career in business." He finished her sentence smoothly.
"You mean he doesn't know?"
"He knows I couldn't pay my way through school without aid. He just doesn't know where I obtained it. I suppose his sisters or some assistant of his was in charge of distributing the funds."
"I'd love to see the look on his face if he ever found out." Relena laughed again. "You can call me Relena if you like, Mr. Welling."
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to call me Rowan," he smiled that odd smile again. It vanished as an older man bumped into him from behind.
"Excuse me. Oh it's you, Mr. Welling." The middle-aged man shook Rowan's hand vigorously. "I see Mr. Winner convinced you to have a look at what you'll be missing if you don't take his offer." His dark eyes glinted with something akin to greed.
"Yes. I hope you are enjoying yourself, Mr. Zane." He flashed his fake smile, which was almost picture perfect.
"Quite. Why Minister Dorlian, I almost didn't see you there. How are you?" He extended his hand, which Relena shook on reflex.
"Fine, thank you. And yourself?" All her responses were automatic. She could do this in her sleep. She might as well have been for all the attention she gave him. Her eyes were trained on Rowan Welling. This mystery man with a fake smile and a perfect appearance.
"You know, you should try running for office." She posited, once Mr. Zane had left to rub elbows with the other rich and famous. Rowan cocked his head in a slightly confused gesture.
"How's that?"
"You're very good at talking to people and holding in your natural reactions. You're professional and polite." She tried to hide the earnestness in her voice.
"I think you were talking about yourself there. I don't have any political ambitions or ideals." He brushed it off.
"That's exactly why you might do well I think. You wouldn't have anything to compromise that way. Ideals only get you in trouble in politics. I learned that the hard way." The last sentence was tinged with a personal bitterness. Suddenly, he was touching her arm.
"Your ideals helped a lot of people, Relena. I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you. I owe my success to you too. Not just Quatre. If you hadn't stood up for your beliefs I would still be a soldier fighting in an endless war, or worse, killed in a battle I didn't even understand." He said these words quietly and seriously. No intonations clouded their meaning and his statement washed over her like cool waves on a summer day. She looked up at his face, itching to pull those sunglasses off and gaze into those eyes that were probably glowing in sincerity if his words were any indication. Instead she looked away and stepped back. It seemed her self-control was intact after all.
"Are your eyes very sensitive to light?" she asked suddenly. He seemed startled at the non-sequitur question.
"I—yes, actually." He gave her one of his mechanical smiles, perhaps to cover his confusion. "Working in front of a computer screen for extended hours in an office with dim fluorescent lights isn't exactly good for your sight." Whatever connection they had made had been lost at her sudden question and his subsequent awkwardness. Relena merely nodded and made sounds of acknowledgement at his explanation. They stood silently for an extended second, before Relena decided it was time to leave.
"It was a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Welling. I'm afraid I must be leaving now. I hope we see each other again." For a moment it looked as if he were going to ask her to stay, or offer an explanation to his change in demeanor. Instead, he bowed respectfully.
As she ventured back to the house, Quatre spotted her and walked over.
"You're not leaving so soon?" He asked, concerned.
"I—I think I should go." She replied, refusing to look him in the eye.
"Did something happen?" He clutched her hand. "You're not running away, are you?" She gave him a soft smile and shook her head.
"I really do enjoy visiting here with you, Quatre. Maybe I'm not as strong as you, but I need to feel free somewhere. To know that I, as a person beyond the public façade, exist with my own personality. It's hard, and sometimes I'm afraid of that personality. But I know your past, and you know mine, and as long as we trust in that, I can get through it." She looked at the tree at the edge of the lawn. "I want to climb it, Quatre. I just don't want anyone to see me."
"Not even the tree?"
"It's too complicated. He doesn't know me, Quatre. As far as he knows, I'm the perfect princess of peace. I never make mistakes. I never have doubts. I always know what I'm doing."
"Is that all he knows? He knows you like lattes. He knows you long for freedom. He knows you'll do anything to get it. I'd say he knows you almost as well as I do." He paused. "And if he asks for your number I'm giving it to him." She opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.
"If he calls and you're still afraid—"
"I'm not afr—"
"If he calls and you're still…unsure, you can tell him so yourself. You want to live your life so badly, but you don't even know how. I'm trying to show you, Relena, because I do know you. And I trust you to make the right decisions."
With a final glance at the majestic tree, she nodded.
"Thank you, Quatre. I had a great time." She squeezed his shoulder and walked into the house to retrieve her things. Once she had disappeared behind the impressive oak doors, he turned to look for the man in question. He found Rowan in the same place she'd left him, a pensive look on his face as he stared out across the grounds. Quatre clapped a hand on Rowan's shoulder.
"I hope it's a price you're pondering. Ready to sell yet?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"The company has been my life for the past five years, Quatre. I can't let go of it so easily."
"You just need something to fill its place," Quatre suggested nonchalantly.
"Or someone." He looked up to see Rowan watching Relena walk gracefully down the marble steps of his porch to the limo waiting on the drive. "You two seem to have a very close relationship." Rowan said conversationally, though to Quatre his tone held some shades of accusation.
"We understand each other." Quatre dismissed any insinuations his companion was attempting to make. "You will too."
"She doesn't know me," he commented. Quatre raised an interested eyebrow and half smiled.
"That's exactly what she said." They both looked again towards the lady in question, and Rowan watched her leave for a second time. As her limo drove away, he wondered if the fates would allow them to meet again.