AN: hiya ppl. back again w/a new chap. didn't keep u waiting too long I
hope! Ok.well unfortunately this is not so much plot as it is sap, fluff
and some angst. I wanted to flex my writing muscles. and I wanted to put in
more 1xR stuff so. voila! Here it is! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.or the songs. or anything at all. please feed the poor college student. w/reviews of course!
1 So Close... And Yet So Far
Part Nine: Stolen Moments
"Relena, what are you doing here?" Heero said authoritatively, recovered from his lapse of hormones. "And dressed like that?" Relena gave him a puzzled look before fingering her sleeveless black silk top and brushing her fingers along the hem of her heather gray miniskirt.
"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed? Don't I blend in?" She winked at him; something was definitely off. "C'mon, let's dance," she suggested cheerfully. Relena was definitely bubbly and a bit perky, but at the moment she seemed like a hyperactive four-year-old eager to try everything at once. He grasped the hand that was tugging at his arm insistently and pulled her back into her seat. "Don't wanna dance huh?" There was another thing: Relena was generally quite articulate, as her job demanded. So, why is she talking like that? "Hey, wanna cherry? The bartender gave me a whole bowl for my martini. They taste really yummy when you put 'em together." She put the bowl between them, grabbed a cherry by the stem and popped it into her mouth. Then she grasped her martini glass between her fingers and took another sip. Heero snatched the glass out of her hands. "Hey! I was drinking that!"
"Relena, have you ever drank anything more than 80 proof?" She gave him another puzzled look.
"Huh? 80 wha?"
"80 proof. 40 percent alcohol. Have you ever imbibed anything with more than that level of alcohol content." She stared at his mouth carefully, trying to concentrate on the words that were coming out of them. After a few moments, when the question finally sank in, she replied.
"Umm. I've had champagne before. Y'know at all those silly banquets? They always serve 'a bit of the bubbly'," she said in a snooty accent.
"Relena, you never drink more than one glass and you carry the same half empty one around for the entire night."
"How'd you know that? Oh wait, I forgot. You're s'posed to be the Perfect Soldier." Her hands flew to her mouth. "I mean-you're not though. You're a normal person and-and" she stuttered, unable to find the word she was looking for. "And you can make mistakes just like the rest of us. You know that right?" His face was expressionless. He had ceased listening to her rambling five minutes ago.
"Okay Relena. Time to go back upstairs." He pulled her to her feet.
"Oh but why? I wanted to dance. I was waiting for you so we could dance!" She grabbed his hands. She stepped closer to him and her hands trailed their way up to his neck. Looking up at him with bright eyes, she pleaded, "one dance." Her soft breath tickled his cheek and the smell of gin and cherries invaded his senses.
"Relena,"
"Isn't dancing nice?" She raised her head to look him in the eyes, the warm scent of her breath tempting him. Gin and cherries, she said it tasted good, I wonder.He licked his lips and stared at her silver-glossed ones, mesmerized by the hypnotic perfume that exuded from them. He leaned down and her eyes closed lazily. He could almost taste the flavor on her breath.
And suddenly, she fell limp in his arms.
He looked down at her, half-startled, then composed himself and supported her weight accordingly. Accurate reaction: amount of alcohol consumed in allotted time, by subject of given body mass and no established threshold. She lasted longer than expected, he calculated as he picked her up and carried her caveman style.
"Fifteen minutes," he called to the manager. The manager gave him a knowing grin at the sight of the girl slung over his shoulder. Heero ignored it and walked out the front door. Glancing around quickly, he walked around to the backdoor of the club and re-entered. Not a good idea to call attention to himself and take the girl up to his room in public view. The questions that would be asked the next morning could be unpleasant. He climbed up the stairs gracefully, as if he weren't even carrying a 100-lb woman over his shoulder.
Opening the door to their room, he surveyed every nook and cranny with a hawk's eye. Satisfied with his examination, he placed Relena on the bed carefully, gently supporting her head as he laid it on the pillow. His eyes skimmed her form and stopped at her boots. She would be uncomfortable sleeping in those. He sat on the edge of the bed precariously, as if he were afraid of getting too comfortable. His hand went to the zipper on her left boot and his thumb gently grazed the soft skin at her knee. He pulled the zipper down matter-of-factly, like he did everything else. Not too rushed, not too slow. His thumb trailed a line along the flesh of her calf as the zipper revealed it. The paleness of her skin peeked out from behind the black leather like the moon behind night clouds. One hand gripped the heel of the boot while the other brushed up the length of her leg and stopped at the knee. He gripped her leg from the back and tugged the boot off. His fingers slid out from behind her knee and delighted at the sensation the delicate skin inspired. The most sensitive part of the body, the Perfect Soldier recalled. It was interesting how often he had used that information to disable his 'obstacles', and now it was noted for no purpose at all. He took off the other boot in a similar manner and sat there for a few moments lost in the marvel that was the human body. Every piece of information came tumbling into his thoughts as he looked at her. This body, that was so strong, yet so vulnerable. Much like the soul within it. This girl who seemed so invincible, looked so fragile and slight as she lay there sleeping.
His eyes glanced at her face, illuminated by the city lights streaming through the window. The black wig looked so wrong, like a puzzle piece that did not fit had been forced into place. He raised her head with a gentle hand and pulled the wig off. Her golden hair spilled out like honey, falling over his hand in silken strands. He cupped her cheek with inattentive tenderness, then gently traced a finger over her elegant brow, brought it down the line of her nose and softly brushed her lips. Those soft shimmering lips he had almost let himself kiss. He trailed his finger down to her chin in a gesture of defeat. He would not linger on the impossible. The finger trailed a line from her chin along her jawbone and then stopped abruptly. Her face was turned away from him, and in the neon glow of light he could make out the yellowing bruises on her neck. He pulled his hand away quickly, like a child burned. He stared at the marks he had inflicted and shook his head slightly, his body involuntarily reacting to his thoughts. No, no, never again. I will never hurt her again. He stepped back slowly until he reached the doorway. He glanced at the door-frame around him as if puzzled how it got there. Then, gathering himself together, he closed the door and walked back down the stairs to do his job.
********************************
The heavy perfume of flowers permeated through the rain as it pounded on the petals of defenseless roses and carnations. The bouquets of flowers lay heaped together on the pavement like an altar of sacrifice. The radiant colors bloomed against the gray cement and the crowd of black umbrellas surrounding them. Under each umbrella stood a somber face with lit candle in hand. The multitude of tiny flames illuminated both the sad expressions of the people and the colorful offerings they had piled before them. The lights flickered as they stood in silence listening to the pounding rain, almost as if waiting for something.
They sheltered the candles in their hands carefully, as if they held some important piece of their lives. As if the candles represented their devotion, their expectations. And as long as these flames survived the night and the rain, there would be hope.
*************************
She was running. She didn't know from what or to where, but she knew she had to keep running. Something was after her. She turned back to look but all she could see was a black Nothingness. And it frightened her. She saw a light ahead and she ran toward it. The light turned into a white blob, which slowly focused until she saw the figures of her brother and Miss Noin waving at her to hurry up, calling her towards them. She called their names.
"Milliardo!" She finally reached them and wanted to embrace them, but they pushed her forward, telling her to keep running. "Wait!" They shook their heads as if to tell her they would be fine but she saw the Nothingness swallow them up as if they had never even been there. "Millie!" She could do nothing but run and keep running. Tears streamed down her face. "Help me, please! Anybody! Heero!" She stopped running abruptly, as his figure appeared a few feet in front of her. "Heero." He raised a gun to her head and cocked it. Her eyes widened, then finally realized that the gun was pointed past her head at the Nothingness behind her. And suddenly, the fear was gone. The Nothingness had ceased its chase. Heero had made it go away. "Thank you, Heero." She wanted to embrace him in her gratefulness, and almost seemed like he was about to accept it but a wall of solid white metal started growing between them. It grew higher until she couldn't see Heero's figure anymore. "Heero! Heero, come back!" The tears started anew. She pounded on the wall with her fists. "Please," she pleaded, "please don't leave me here alone." The wall stopped growing, but Relena couldn't tell properly because she was falling, falling, falling. She wanted to wake up but she couldn't. But then she was warm. and safe. and everything was all right.
********************************
Heero opened the door cautiously, peering in to survey the room before entering. He heard the rustling of bed sheets and froze. Stepping into the room, he stared into the darkness, trying to see if Relena had recovered from her intoxicated state. More rustling. Heero moved closer to the bed and confirmed that Relena was in fact still asleep, albeit having a disturbing dream. Satisfied, he began to undress, pulling his T-shirt over his head and unzipping his jeans to reveal his signature spandex shorts.
"Milliardo." Heero's head snapped up to look at Relena. She was mumbling in her sleep. "Wait." This time she sounded more urgent. Somewhat concerned, Heero walked back over to her bedside. "Millie!" Her head thrashed side to side. Heero was unsure of what to do. Should he wake her up? "Help me, please. Anybody!" Tears were softly streaming down her cheeks now. "Heero!"
"Relena." He called her name, hoping she would wake up at the sound of his voice. "Wake up, Relena." It wasn't working. She continued to toss and turn in her sleeping, her golden hair whipping at her face wildly. He gently nudged her shoulder. "Get up, Relena."
"Heero." Her voice seemed calmer now. Something comforting seemed to have happened in her dream. Heero watched her for a few minutes, making sure that the worst was probably over and she would sleep soundly for the rest of the night. "Thank you, Heero." Heero started. Had she woken up? No, still sleeping. Heero couldn't define the lightness in his chest he felt knowing that she had found comfort from him in her dream.
He stepped away from her bed to lay a blanket on the floor to sleep on. After last night, there was no way he would get into the bed again. His ears perked up at the sound of rustling again. What tortures you in your dream, Relena? He wondered.
"Heero!" He stood up and went back to his previous position next to her bed. "Heero, come back!" The tears came back. He held her hand.
"I'm here, Relena, right here." Why wouldn't she wake up? She must still be unconscious from the alcohol, he calculated. He would probably need to use more force to wake her up. He grabbed her tossing shoulders and shook them firmly. "Wake up!" She lifted her fists up, and pounded on his chest. He tried to grab her wrists, but couldn't get a hold of them for fear of hurting her. He finally settled for wrapping his arms around her, trying to brace her pounding fists against his bare chest.
"Please," her voice pleaded, tears moistening his shoulder, "please don't leave me here alone." He continued to hold her tightly, as she cried on his bare skin. As he rocked her back and forth, her sobs subsided, and she shuddered slightly. He looked down at her face on his shoulder, now completely peaceful. The only trace of her crying, the now drying tears on her cheek. He reluctantly relaxed his hold on her but she did not fall back onto her pillow, as she should have. Instead, she remained attached to his chest, her bare arms wrapped firmly around his trunk. Perplexed, Heero just stared at her, unwilling to force open her embrace. It would be unsatisfactory for her to wake up now that she was finally at peace. Worse, he could hurt her again in the effort. And then there was the third reason for his unwillingness, which his mind would never allow his conscious self to accept. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do was sleep for the few hours he had time for. So let her be and leaned semi- supine against the headboard. Sleep came easier than he thought it would.
**************************************
An umbrella snapped close, shaking off the raindrops like so many worries finally forgotten. A hand stretched out to the sky, as if in prayer, seeking alms from the heavens. And it seemed these heavens did have pity on the poor souls gathered underneath. The rain had stopped. A successive percussion of umbrellas closing filled the air. And a voice sprang into the air.
Amazing grace,
One by one, all the voices joined in, singing to the sky, to the ruined scene before them, to their own savior who lay buried beneath it all.
How sweet the sound,
Their voices carried over the grayness around them, brightening the scene in harmony with the sunlight peering through the clouds.
That saves a wretch like me
From afar, Zechs watched these people in their vigilant devotion to the person they believed had saved their souls. The person who had saved his own soul.
I once was lost,
But now I'm found
A man approached him, eyes hopeful, like any messenger of good news.
"Mr. Peacecraft, sir. We should be able to start digging again as soon as the site is dry enough. We're lucky that it's nice and sunny today. We'll probably be able to get started by midday." Zechs nodded at him and looked back to the singing crowd, his heart singing and praying with them.
Was blind,
But now I see.
********************************
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.or the songs. or anything at all. please feed the poor college student. w/reviews of course!
1 So Close... And Yet So Far
Part Nine: Stolen Moments
"Relena, what are you doing here?" Heero said authoritatively, recovered from his lapse of hormones. "And dressed like that?" Relena gave him a puzzled look before fingering her sleeveless black silk top and brushing her fingers along the hem of her heather gray miniskirt.
"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed? Don't I blend in?" She winked at him; something was definitely off. "C'mon, let's dance," she suggested cheerfully. Relena was definitely bubbly and a bit perky, but at the moment she seemed like a hyperactive four-year-old eager to try everything at once. He grasped the hand that was tugging at his arm insistently and pulled her back into her seat. "Don't wanna dance huh?" There was another thing: Relena was generally quite articulate, as her job demanded. So, why is she talking like that? "Hey, wanna cherry? The bartender gave me a whole bowl for my martini. They taste really yummy when you put 'em together." She put the bowl between them, grabbed a cherry by the stem and popped it into her mouth. Then she grasped her martini glass between her fingers and took another sip. Heero snatched the glass out of her hands. "Hey! I was drinking that!"
"Relena, have you ever drank anything more than 80 proof?" She gave him another puzzled look.
"Huh? 80 wha?"
"80 proof. 40 percent alcohol. Have you ever imbibed anything with more than that level of alcohol content." She stared at his mouth carefully, trying to concentrate on the words that were coming out of them. After a few moments, when the question finally sank in, she replied.
"Umm. I've had champagne before. Y'know at all those silly banquets? They always serve 'a bit of the bubbly'," she said in a snooty accent.
"Relena, you never drink more than one glass and you carry the same half empty one around for the entire night."
"How'd you know that? Oh wait, I forgot. You're s'posed to be the Perfect Soldier." Her hands flew to her mouth. "I mean-you're not though. You're a normal person and-and" she stuttered, unable to find the word she was looking for. "And you can make mistakes just like the rest of us. You know that right?" His face was expressionless. He had ceased listening to her rambling five minutes ago.
"Okay Relena. Time to go back upstairs." He pulled her to her feet.
"Oh but why? I wanted to dance. I was waiting for you so we could dance!" She grabbed his hands. She stepped closer to him and her hands trailed their way up to his neck. Looking up at him with bright eyes, she pleaded, "one dance." Her soft breath tickled his cheek and the smell of gin and cherries invaded his senses.
"Relena,"
"Isn't dancing nice?" She raised her head to look him in the eyes, the warm scent of her breath tempting him. Gin and cherries, she said it tasted good, I wonder.He licked his lips and stared at her silver-glossed ones, mesmerized by the hypnotic perfume that exuded from them. He leaned down and her eyes closed lazily. He could almost taste the flavor on her breath.
And suddenly, she fell limp in his arms.
He looked down at her, half-startled, then composed himself and supported her weight accordingly. Accurate reaction: amount of alcohol consumed in allotted time, by subject of given body mass and no established threshold. She lasted longer than expected, he calculated as he picked her up and carried her caveman style.
"Fifteen minutes," he called to the manager. The manager gave him a knowing grin at the sight of the girl slung over his shoulder. Heero ignored it and walked out the front door. Glancing around quickly, he walked around to the backdoor of the club and re-entered. Not a good idea to call attention to himself and take the girl up to his room in public view. The questions that would be asked the next morning could be unpleasant. He climbed up the stairs gracefully, as if he weren't even carrying a 100-lb woman over his shoulder.
Opening the door to their room, he surveyed every nook and cranny with a hawk's eye. Satisfied with his examination, he placed Relena on the bed carefully, gently supporting her head as he laid it on the pillow. His eyes skimmed her form and stopped at her boots. She would be uncomfortable sleeping in those. He sat on the edge of the bed precariously, as if he were afraid of getting too comfortable. His hand went to the zipper on her left boot and his thumb gently grazed the soft skin at her knee. He pulled the zipper down matter-of-factly, like he did everything else. Not too rushed, not too slow. His thumb trailed a line along the flesh of her calf as the zipper revealed it. The paleness of her skin peeked out from behind the black leather like the moon behind night clouds. One hand gripped the heel of the boot while the other brushed up the length of her leg and stopped at the knee. He gripped her leg from the back and tugged the boot off. His fingers slid out from behind her knee and delighted at the sensation the delicate skin inspired. The most sensitive part of the body, the Perfect Soldier recalled. It was interesting how often he had used that information to disable his 'obstacles', and now it was noted for no purpose at all. He took off the other boot in a similar manner and sat there for a few moments lost in the marvel that was the human body. Every piece of information came tumbling into his thoughts as he looked at her. This body, that was so strong, yet so vulnerable. Much like the soul within it. This girl who seemed so invincible, looked so fragile and slight as she lay there sleeping.
His eyes glanced at her face, illuminated by the city lights streaming through the window. The black wig looked so wrong, like a puzzle piece that did not fit had been forced into place. He raised her head with a gentle hand and pulled the wig off. Her golden hair spilled out like honey, falling over his hand in silken strands. He cupped her cheek with inattentive tenderness, then gently traced a finger over her elegant brow, brought it down the line of her nose and softly brushed her lips. Those soft shimmering lips he had almost let himself kiss. He trailed his finger down to her chin in a gesture of defeat. He would not linger on the impossible. The finger trailed a line from her chin along her jawbone and then stopped abruptly. Her face was turned away from him, and in the neon glow of light he could make out the yellowing bruises on her neck. He pulled his hand away quickly, like a child burned. He stared at the marks he had inflicted and shook his head slightly, his body involuntarily reacting to his thoughts. No, no, never again. I will never hurt her again. He stepped back slowly until he reached the doorway. He glanced at the door-frame around him as if puzzled how it got there. Then, gathering himself together, he closed the door and walked back down the stairs to do his job.
********************************
The heavy perfume of flowers permeated through the rain as it pounded on the petals of defenseless roses and carnations. The bouquets of flowers lay heaped together on the pavement like an altar of sacrifice. The radiant colors bloomed against the gray cement and the crowd of black umbrellas surrounding them. Under each umbrella stood a somber face with lit candle in hand. The multitude of tiny flames illuminated both the sad expressions of the people and the colorful offerings they had piled before them. The lights flickered as they stood in silence listening to the pounding rain, almost as if waiting for something.
They sheltered the candles in their hands carefully, as if they held some important piece of their lives. As if the candles represented their devotion, their expectations. And as long as these flames survived the night and the rain, there would be hope.
*************************
She was running. She didn't know from what or to where, but she knew she had to keep running. Something was after her. She turned back to look but all she could see was a black Nothingness. And it frightened her. She saw a light ahead and she ran toward it. The light turned into a white blob, which slowly focused until she saw the figures of her brother and Miss Noin waving at her to hurry up, calling her towards them. She called their names.
"Milliardo!" She finally reached them and wanted to embrace them, but they pushed her forward, telling her to keep running. "Wait!" They shook their heads as if to tell her they would be fine but she saw the Nothingness swallow them up as if they had never even been there. "Millie!" She could do nothing but run and keep running. Tears streamed down her face. "Help me, please! Anybody! Heero!" She stopped running abruptly, as his figure appeared a few feet in front of her. "Heero." He raised a gun to her head and cocked it. Her eyes widened, then finally realized that the gun was pointed past her head at the Nothingness behind her. And suddenly, the fear was gone. The Nothingness had ceased its chase. Heero had made it go away. "Thank you, Heero." She wanted to embrace him in her gratefulness, and almost seemed like he was about to accept it but a wall of solid white metal started growing between them. It grew higher until she couldn't see Heero's figure anymore. "Heero! Heero, come back!" The tears started anew. She pounded on the wall with her fists. "Please," she pleaded, "please don't leave me here alone." The wall stopped growing, but Relena couldn't tell properly because she was falling, falling, falling. She wanted to wake up but she couldn't. But then she was warm. and safe. and everything was all right.
********************************
Heero opened the door cautiously, peering in to survey the room before entering. He heard the rustling of bed sheets and froze. Stepping into the room, he stared into the darkness, trying to see if Relena had recovered from her intoxicated state. More rustling. Heero moved closer to the bed and confirmed that Relena was in fact still asleep, albeit having a disturbing dream. Satisfied, he began to undress, pulling his T-shirt over his head and unzipping his jeans to reveal his signature spandex shorts.
"Milliardo." Heero's head snapped up to look at Relena. She was mumbling in her sleep. "Wait." This time she sounded more urgent. Somewhat concerned, Heero walked back over to her bedside. "Millie!" Her head thrashed side to side. Heero was unsure of what to do. Should he wake her up? "Help me, please. Anybody!" Tears were softly streaming down her cheeks now. "Heero!"
"Relena." He called her name, hoping she would wake up at the sound of his voice. "Wake up, Relena." It wasn't working. She continued to toss and turn in her sleeping, her golden hair whipping at her face wildly. He gently nudged her shoulder. "Get up, Relena."
"Heero." Her voice seemed calmer now. Something comforting seemed to have happened in her dream. Heero watched her for a few minutes, making sure that the worst was probably over and she would sleep soundly for the rest of the night. "Thank you, Heero." Heero started. Had she woken up? No, still sleeping. Heero couldn't define the lightness in his chest he felt knowing that she had found comfort from him in her dream.
He stepped away from her bed to lay a blanket on the floor to sleep on. After last night, there was no way he would get into the bed again. His ears perked up at the sound of rustling again. What tortures you in your dream, Relena? He wondered.
"Heero!" He stood up and went back to his previous position next to her bed. "Heero, come back!" The tears came back. He held her hand.
"I'm here, Relena, right here." Why wouldn't she wake up? She must still be unconscious from the alcohol, he calculated. He would probably need to use more force to wake her up. He grabbed her tossing shoulders and shook them firmly. "Wake up!" She lifted her fists up, and pounded on his chest. He tried to grab her wrists, but couldn't get a hold of them for fear of hurting her. He finally settled for wrapping his arms around her, trying to brace her pounding fists against his bare chest.
"Please," her voice pleaded, tears moistening his shoulder, "please don't leave me here alone." He continued to hold her tightly, as she cried on his bare skin. As he rocked her back and forth, her sobs subsided, and she shuddered slightly. He looked down at her face on his shoulder, now completely peaceful. The only trace of her crying, the now drying tears on her cheek. He reluctantly relaxed his hold on her but she did not fall back onto her pillow, as she should have. Instead, she remained attached to his chest, her bare arms wrapped firmly around his trunk. Perplexed, Heero just stared at her, unwilling to force open her embrace. It would be unsatisfactory for her to wake up now that she was finally at peace. Worse, he could hurt her again in the effort. And then there was the third reason for his unwillingness, which his mind would never allow his conscious self to accept. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do was sleep for the few hours he had time for. So let her be and leaned semi- supine against the headboard. Sleep came easier than he thought it would.
**************************************
An umbrella snapped close, shaking off the raindrops like so many worries finally forgotten. A hand stretched out to the sky, as if in prayer, seeking alms from the heavens. And it seemed these heavens did have pity on the poor souls gathered underneath. The rain had stopped. A successive percussion of umbrellas closing filled the air. And a voice sprang into the air.
Amazing grace,
One by one, all the voices joined in, singing to the sky, to the ruined scene before them, to their own savior who lay buried beneath it all.
How sweet the sound,
Their voices carried over the grayness around them, brightening the scene in harmony with the sunlight peering through the clouds.
That saves a wretch like me
From afar, Zechs watched these people in their vigilant devotion to the person they believed had saved their souls. The person who had saved his own soul.
I once was lost,
But now I'm found
A man approached him, eyes hopeful, like any messenger of good news.
"Mr. Peacecraft, sir. We should be able to start digging again as soon as the site is dry enough. We're lucky that it's nice and sunny today. We'll probably be able to get started by midday." Zechs nodded at him and looked back to the singing crowd, his heart singing and praying with them.
Was blind,
But now I see.
********************************
