"Keep your back straight – it makes you look like you're interested. And Heero, please don't grunt. State your answers clearly and confidently. Oh and whatever you do, don't glare – its very unbecoming."
If there was ever a time when I wished for a big fat role of duct tape, it would be then. She just wouldn't stop correcting me. Like I didn't know respectable manners or something. Just because I don't act all prim and proper around her doesn't mean that I don't have a decent bone in my body. Besides, being bossy is very unlady-like and very unbecoming.
Relena shifted in her seat to face me and straightened my tie. Not exactly romantic, but her words in the limo had given me new insight into our relationship. I needed to be less chummy-chummy and more romantic. Hey, it's possible.
"Take deep breaths and you'll be fine." I am fine! Stop harassing me!
I looked around the room for something to distract me from the nuisance of a woman fussing over me. That was another problem – she was starting to act like the mother I never knew. And while it might be nice to have someone to do my laundry, I really don't need a mother. I need love.
Happy now that I've admitted it? Unfortunately, Relena can't read minds (and if she can, I will be thoroughly mortified). Otherwise, she'd know that I've harbored affection for her nearly four years and probably would have demanded I tell her the truth. Just one problem -- she can't handle the truth.
"Mr, Yuy?" asked the man coming out of the President's office. I stood immediately. The man wasn't exactly what I remembered Sanders to be, but you know, people change. Or so I thought.
"President Sanders. I would like to say –"
"I think you have made a minor misconception, Mr. Yuy. I'm Robert Hamill, Executive Secretary to President Sanders." He said with a cheesy, knowing smile. How I would have liked to wipe that stupid grin off his face. I could feel my hands ball into a fist and my scowl deepening with evident anger. And then she has to go and ruin my moment.
"Mr. Hamill, pleasure to see you again." commented Relena, standing up beside me. She reached out to shake the secretary's hand, but he did not reciprocate her action. He just looked back at me. Maybe there's more to this story. However, this is not Relena's story – its mine.
"Mr. Yuy, the President wishes to see you now." He said with a slight sniff as he scaled the length of my clothing. It was obvious that he didn't approve. I couldn't care, but that guy was in for some serious retribution.
Relena followed me, the light touch of her hand on the cuff of my shirt. It felt good having her there – just to be there. I didn't care that only five minutes before she'd been nagging me. I mean, I tried to kill the guy I wanted a job from. I was in need of some serious moral support. Don't we all?
"Mr. Yuy, I think you have made another small misconception. Your secretary is not allowed in the President's office. However, she can sit out here and wait for you."
I was ready to blow my top by then. It was obvious that he knew Relena – and obvious that he didn't want to say that he knew her. But did he have to degrade her like that? No. That's about the time when the girl at my side tightened on my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine to create a full "holding hands" moment. A real holding hands moment. I wish I'd had a camera – Maxwell would have died.
"But sir, I'm here to accompany Heero in his meeting. Isn't there any way that I can sit in on the meeting? I won't be any trouble at all." Them damn pacifists – they think they can solve everything from diplomacy. And what has diplomacy done for the world? Prevented a few wars? Well I'm sure guns have ended a lot more wars than negotiation. But back to the matter at hand.
"Miss, I believe you've made a little misconception here. We're talking about the President of all the known worlds. Do you know how big that is? Very, very big. Now if you'll stop wasting time, Mr. Yuy has a meeting to attend."
I could tell Relena was a bit taken aback, but she said nothing, so I just followed the bastard into the room he had already stepped into. With a last, aggravated look at the love of my life, the thought that I may never see her again slowly sunk into my dense head. After all, I'd tried to kill the guy. Am I that much of an egotist that I didn't think he would return the favor? Yeah, pretty much.
"Yuy? Heero Yuy?"
I wanted to scream that my real name wasn't Heero Yuy, but that would have been childish and impertinent – not to mention the guy had the codes to about a dozen different nuclear bombs.
"Mr. President." I said, trying to follow Relena's advice and pronouncing every syllable with great care. Does this guy even remember that I almost killed him? What he doesn't know, won't hurt him – and more importantly, won't hurt me.
"You're a sick sonuvabitch thinking you can walk into my office like this." Said Sanders, raising his large, pink arms in greeting. Okay, so he might have remembered.
But how do you answer to a remark like that? Did he expect me to start groveling for my life? Because I'd much rather go down in a flame of glory. That pretty much explains my next few actions.
"What the –"
"Scream and you die." Last minute changes were not always my specialty, but I can be pretty flexible when I want to. So, instead of a large grand scheme to assassinate the President, I was going old school.
"Hey! You're not allowed to have guns here! This is my house!"
"Actually, your residence is exactly seventy-five feet away, and this is a government building. So technically, since I belong to the government, its my building too." And didn't the government give me the right to do whatever I like in the privacy of my own place? That's one of the biggest problems with democracy – they're always loopholes.
"I don't care who the hell the building belongs to! You're gonna kill me!"
"That would be an precise phrase, but not an accurate one."
"What in God's name is the difference? And what does it have to do with the gun you're pointing at my head?" As the Commander in Chief of the National Army, you would think someone sent him to an English class at one time. Since I've joined Relena's "team" and started advocating peace, my personal goal was the educate the world. What better way than to start with the leader?
"Well, a lot. If I were to fire a round of precise shots then there is a chance that it wouldn't hit you. However, if they were accurate, you'd be dead."
"Well thanks for clearing that up." More of that sarcasm.
"You're welcome."
See, I have this bad habit of underestimating people. Like the time when Relena socked me in the nose – or the time that I gave Duo a jawbreaker. How was I supposed to know that President Sanders was a third degree black belt? Okay, maybe the pictures of him beating the crap out of people all over the walls would be considered a indicator. I guess I'm just becoming sloppy.
With the thud of my body hitting the ground, and the searing pain of the contact between my stomach and his fist, I felt it necessary to have my life flash before my eyes. Why is it that whenever I try to be normal, it never works? Well, this time was no exception. All I saw was a blur of grey and black, but nothing special. I wasn't exactly going to die in the most glorious way, but it'd have to do.
"Hey, son, you got the job." And maybe I'd die happy, too.
"What?" I asked, and realized that I'd been through more than a fat man's fist. Besides, now I had something to live for.
"We need more veterans and warmongers in this administration. All them pansy pacifists. Goddamn peace-loving freaks."
I was amazed, started, and in awe all at the same time. Someone truly understood me! He knew exactly how I felt. Sanders held out his hand to help me to my feet, but I was much too overwhelmed to take it. Someone thought like me!
"All you need to know, son, is that this peace and tranquility junk isn't for guys like us. Just follow your heart – it'll lead you in the right direction." So it may have sounded like something straight from a Disney movie, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. "And tell Ms. Relena that I'm approving her Plan to Concord."
"But, why?"
"Keeps the natives happy."
"Oh."
"Make something of yourself, kid. And maybe you'll be sitting in the same chair I am someday."
"Mission Accepted."
"Knock 'em dead, boy. Literally."
A/N- well, now we've met the President – sounds like a nice guy, huh? By no means do I intend to insult any pacifists in this story – I'm just trying to be in the mind of Heero. And what a twisted, strange one it is. Oh and I started a Live Jouranl! Now, if only I could figure out how to use it…wells, wonderful time writing this – hope you are liking! And make a healthy decision today!
How is it? Something I should change? A suggestion perhaps? Then please review and let me know!