Disclaimer: Dead cows don't go moo; they go thud! much giggling Cow tipping! If you tipped a cow on a hill, would it roll?

I practically loaded this chapter with mush, so tread carefully. (And carry a big stick.)

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Believe in Fate

Chapter 2

Heero stared blankly into his cup of coffee. One step forward, two steps back - That was his life. He wondered if he'd ever get anywhere, and realized that at this rate, he'd be going steadily backwards one step at a time. He sighed and dumped the coffee into the sink. The liquid swirled and vanished into the drain.

"Damn it," he growled at himself, running his hands through his thick brown hair. "Why do I have to be like that?"

The answer hung heavily around him and loomed darkly in his past. Collapsing into his chair, Heero closed his eyes. "Relena." he muttered. His past was coated in loss, blood, pain, and mistrust. He had been trained to be the Perfect Soldier, had failed to erase all of his emotions, and had fallen in love . . . with her. He sighed. Couldn't he just start over? In a place where no one knew him, no one cared, and where he could just live his own life? He wished he could stop caring, but didn't want to. He wished he was gone, but was too attached to what he had gotten used to. He wished he didn't know any of them, but knew that he would have killed himself, that they had provided him with a reason to push on - friendship was new. He didn't want it, but it was thrown into his lap, and he returned it reluctantly - but still returned it.

He loved her, and didn't want to.

He couldn't run away anymore. Life was here, banging down his door, and he was hiding in the corner desperately trying to avoid it. Was that cowardly? Everyone's afraid of something. Maybe his fear was living. He had gone without it for so long, and wasn't ready to give up the security of not caring about what happened to him, of following orders, of killing and bloodshed, and denial. He denied that he loved her, but couldn't ignore it any longer. It was killing him, and he was too strong, too stubborn to die.

He loved her to the point where everything stood still when he saw her. When he was near her, he could barely breathe. But breathing was a habit hard to break, so he persevered. He could swear his heart stopped, though. It got caught in his throat, and he found it difficult to speak, to look at her without staring, or to stand by her without touching. Love. He never thought he'd know it. Now he did, and he wondered if he would feel it - towards him. She was too good for him, he decided. She deserved better. But . . . what if she loved him? Would he push her away? Probably. That display last night was disgusting. He let her . . . watched her walk away from him. He felt like kicking himself. What if it was too late?

Heero pulled a bottle out of a cabinet. Knowing it was far too early for drinking, he set it on the table and stared at it. The whiskey didn't combust, didn't implode, explode, or anything inbetween. With a sigh, he stuffed the bottle in his trenchcoat and headed out. Out where - he didn't know, didn't care. Somewhere else.

The west side was a "nature reserve" on the colony. It provided enough oxygen to supply the colony if anything ever happened to the main controls. Not very many people went there, surprisingly, because in this fast-paced world, the park was in a better location. It was in the center of the high-class business district, but the reserve was far from much of anything. It had dirt trails winding through it, and paved pathways all around it. During this colony-made season, the trees were all deep green, and various green plants covered the ground. It was prettier than any park.

Heero followed a dirt path, venturing as deeply as he could away from society. Eventually, the stale air of the colony was replaced with fresh, natural air. He drifted off the trail and into a small clearing - there due to a mobile suit stomping on it the year before. Leaning against a fallen tree, Heero pulled a book from his other pocket, and tried to lose himself in a different world.

The book, although interesting, could hardly hold his attention for long. He was tired. Thinking of her. . . it was turning him into an insomniac. Her smile, her voice - she haunted his dreams, and his nightmares. He was afraid of hurting her, afraid of causing her pain, of putting her in danger. Afraid. That was something he wasn't used to. Heero shook his head and focused on the words on the page. He knew fear, pain, guilt, and sadness, but it was different with her. He felt everything with her, but it didn't matter. Unless she was somehow endagered or hurt. Then, he felt fear and anger grip his chest. Fear for her, and anger against whoever dared to hurt her. The words on the page were foggy. Frowning, Heero blinked and shook his head again. Better. He knew he was falling asleep. He'd do better if he walked around. He put the book back in his coat and stood up, dusting grass and dirt off as he did so. He should go home and sleep. Yea, that's what he'd do. Just push Relena out of his mind, and get some rest.

'Damn it all,' he thought. Lately, he'd buried himself in his work. He worked as a part-time Preventer, as a "substitute" pilot for an airline company, as a mercenary, an occasional bounty hunter, and if he felt like it, he'd help the local police detectives. He didn't do it for the money; he did it for himself. He'd also been keeping himself more in shape than he had ever been. '"That's one thing I've never heard of - workaholics anonymous."' Duo had made a comment several months ago about how hard Heero'd been working. Duo'd said that he and Relena would be perfect because both of them were obsessed with their work. Heero sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked down the street. Duo was right.

Rain splattered on the pavement, and Heero growled. The colonies - they wished to be separate from Earth, and yet they replicated Mother Nature as best they could. What was the point? The colonies were supposed to be better, yet, as many people starved or froze as they did on Earth. People are all basically the same. Heero didn't change his pace any because of the rain. But when he arrived at the corner near the supermarket by his apartment, he stopped. There she was - unmistakable, even as wet as she was. He couldn't help but smile. A cold, wet mouse. That's what she looked like.

Relena rubbed her arms and shivered slightly. Taxis are hard to come by when it's raining. Feeling someone watching her, Relena glanced up and met his eyes. He was smiling. Well, she'd smile too, if she could see what she looked like. What was she doing down this road, anyway? Her apartment was nearly 10 blocks away. She frowned and looked away. He could find her funny if he wanted. It made her warm inside to think that her being foolish could make a smile cross that stone face.

"Relena," he said. His smile was gone, but his eyes sparkled with unheard or seen laughter. "My place is closer." His voice never changed, was always even, always strong. She loved his voice.

"I know. . ." She studied the wet concrete and watched the water drip into a gutter. "But. . ."

"You look like a wet rat. Come on." He put a hand on her lower back and steered her down the street.

Relena bit back a giggle. A wet rat? He never failed to amaze her. Yet, she was rarely amazed.

Heero handed Relena a cup of hot tea and sat across from her with another cup of coffee. She was looking around curiously, as if she was excited to actually be in his house. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed her, memorizing the way her eyes sparkled, the way her body curved in the t-shirt and sweats he let her borrow, and how her hand flew to her mouth to hide an unexpected yawn. Yea, he loved her. But who could blame him? She was. . . perfect.

Smiling, Relena looked into his eyes. "Thank you," she said happily. "And. . . I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to wake you up - it's just. . ." She frowned. "Did you not go back to sleep? You look tired."

Heero frowned. "I'm fine." There wasn't much he could do about it; he wasn't the only Gundam pilot suffering from insomnia. Quatre worked too hard and barely got sleep, Trowa had been working as a spy for Lady Une and had been out on stake outs every night after posing as a member of malcontent unions during the day, and Duo's nightmares had gotten so bad that he barely slept for more than three hours a night. Looking at Relena cooly, he replied, "You look tired yourself."

She bit her lip and grinned sheepishly. "A little. With the time change and everything. . . A reporter showed up on my doorstep this morning, so I had to get up. I don't know where they wouldn't find me. . ."

He nodded, then ventured the offer, which was more a question than anything, "You could stay here."

"No, thank you," she said, eying him incredulously. "I don't want to be a bother."

He shrugged. "I don't care. If it gives the reporters a hard time, it'd be worth it." That was true. One of the reporters, he was sure, had been stalking Relena for some time. When he got his hands on that one, there'd be hell to pay. The rest of them were just obnoxious. They tormented Relena, pushed her to the limit, but still, she smiled and remained unphased. Heero knew it bothered her. But she knew that it would do no good to try to stop them.

She stared at him for a moment, then her face suddenly became more serious. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I appreciate it."

Heero nodded again to show approval, ignoring the part of his brain that screamed, "You fool! What have you done!?" He stood up and put his empty coffee cup in the dishwasher. "You can use my room," he said.

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Wow... I took a weird twist there. I don't know if I was planning that or not... O.o' Anywayz, if you decide that you have enough time in your busy schedule to review a poor, too-fat-to-starve writer, then please do. If you don't, I suggest you be careful. Very careful. Big Brother is watching you. Oh, and go to my website. I have a picture of me up... and my theory on the government conspiracy! Oh, and a blackmail picture of an ex-friend. Spread it around at your discretion. (Or not, and save the world from an epidemic of eye-gouging...)