Disclaimer: Characters within do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, once again. I'm trying to get back on a regular posting schedule, but my own daily schedule is making it difficult. Thank you, though, for all the kind reviews. I'm so glad you like the story and are sticking with it. Until next time, take care!
****
Be My Downfall
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"Where the hell did you run off to?" Wufei looked up from his paperwork as Trowa entered their office. "It's been hours."
Trowa took off his uniform jacket and neatly draped it over the back of his chair. Sliding into his seat, he turned on his computer before replying, "I had something I had to do. Do I have to clear my schedule with you first?"
"Only during working hours." The Chinese man tossed him a folder, Frisbee style. "Take a look at that."
"What is it?" Trowa asked.
"Surveillance stills from the cameras in the President's office taken the night before she received the note."
"There's nothing here. We've been over them a hundred times."
"Exactly. No one came into that office in the middle of the night to drop off that letter. Which means someone on the inside either knowingly or unknowingly brought it into the office and put it in the President's incoming mail."
"All right." Trowa set the pictures aside. "But who? She trusts her staff implicitly."
Wufei snorted. "That's her own damn fault. Clearly, the most obvious person would be the secretary."
"Personal assistant."
"Whatever. She handled the mail every morning, opening, sorting, putting those little 'sign here' stickers on important dotted lines for the President's convenience. Why wasn't the note something she opened and checked out?"
"Because she thought it was personal mail," Trowa guessed. "She's not a social secretary."
"Personal assistant," Wufei mocked him ever so slightly. "But that's a little too convenient if you ask me. A blank envelope with no return address and it doesn't raise her suspicions at all?"
Trowa shrugged. "Maybe she's not a very good personal assistant slash secretary."
"Or maybe she's the one who snuck the letter in."
"I take it you intend to probe further?"
"Full background check." Wufei pointed to his computer. "I have it running now. If she's so much as littered in her lifetime, we'll know about it."
Stretching his arms, Trowa nodded. "You're not leaving much for Yuy or me to do."
"Yuy can't seem to think with any organ above his waist these days."
"At least Yuy knows what he wants," the taller man mused. "Some of us aren't so lucky."
"No one knows what they want until they get it."
"You're a closet Confucius."
Wufei shook his head. "Make yourself useful; start running through that list of guys the President's been out with the past three months."
"Looking for…"
"Anything out of the ordinary. Hell, Barton…you had the same training I did; use it!"
Wufei left the room, presumably for coffee. He drank the stuff like it was water. Trowa located the proper file and sat down again. But his attention was nowhere near the decent sized list of men the President had recently dated.
**No one knows what they want until they get it.**
For all of his sharp corners, it wasn't surprising that the Chinese man could be so sharp. Heero hadn't known what he wanted until he got it. *He* hadn't know what he wanted until he'd gotten it four years earlier.
But there was a flaw in Wufei's logic. Just because you found what you wanted didn't necessarily mean you'd have any idea what to do with it.
****
He couldn't go back to the mansion. There was too much Relena there. At least at his apartment, he didn't run the risk of turning a corner and bumping into her. Her perfume didn't waft through the rooms; the sweet sound of her voice didn't fill the silence. Within the stark white walls, he didn't feel her everywhere.
Heero slammed into the apartment, threw his keys onto the table so hard they bounced, and ripped off his uniform jacket. He kept going, stripping down to his white undershirt. The clothes were choking him, keeping him from breathing.
He'd just undone his belt buckle when he noticed the message light blinking on his communicator. It would have been easy to ignore it under any other circumstances. But what if it was Relena? What if she needed him?
What if she'd changed her mind?
He sat down in front of the communicator and pressed a few buttons to call up the message.
"One new message," the computerized voice told him. "Sent at 0945, today. Would you like to play this message now?"
"Why not?" Heero muttered, rubbing his eyes.
"Please respond with 'yes' or 'no'."
"Fuck…yes, alright?"
"Audio or vis…"
"Visual. Whatever."
Duo Maxwell's exuberant face popped up on the screen. "Yuy, you bastard, guess what?! I'm a dad!! Can you believe it?! Hilde had the baby really late last night!! It's a boy. A big one!! Almost nine pounds. Hilde won't let me touch her anymore." He pouted for a second, but his euphoria went on undaunted. "Anyway, we named him Jeremiah. He's totally healthy; Hilde's doing great. And we're coming to Earth to see you and the princess in about a week. Okay? Okay! And don't bother calling to tell us not to come. When Hilde gets her mind made up…" He shook his head; his messy, half-undone braid jerked back and forth. "Let's just say we'll see you soon."
The message ended, leaving Heero to stare at the communicator screen for a few minutes. Finally he stood up and walked into the tiny kitchen. There wasn't anything in the fridge except for a few wrinkled apples and a container of milk that had turned into cottage cheese. He opened the freezer and found nothing but ice. With it and the whisky under the counter that would never go bad on him, he fixed a drink.
He took a sip, holding the cold, burning liquid in his mouth. When he swallowed, he felt it scorch a path to his stomach. His hand gripped his glass hard…harder. It crushed under the pressure, and the glass shattered. When he relaxed his palm, blood spilled out, flowing down his arm and dripping onto the tiled floor. The alcohol pooled into a dozen deep cuts.
Heero stared at his injuries until the ice from the drink dulled the pain and the blood slowed. Only then did he head into the bathroom for the first aid kit.
As he picked glass out of his flesh and wound bandages around his fingers, the image of the baby returned. Only this time when the child reached for him, laughing, he saw himself drawing a gun and pointing it at the baby's soft, bald head.
Heero tore off a piece of surgical tape with his teeth. "Bang."
****
It took Relena hours to fall asleep, mostly due to the fact that she couldn't stop crying.
Heero had dropped her off at the mansion and driven off without a word. And she had no idea how to interpret his actions. He was Heero; she hadn't expected an emotional reaction to the news of her unexpected pregnancy. Part of her, the part that could still dream, had wanted him to put his foot down and declare that she simply could not kill their baby.
But that was silly. Offering to be with her during the abortion was much more Heero Yuy. Refusing to touch her when she needed something human to hang onto…that was the Heero she knew and yet somehow loved.
"It's better this way," she told her flat belly as she prepared for her doctor-ordered nap. "I'll never have to choose between you and the entire world. There won't be a scandal. And Heero won't feel like he's being tied to me for the rest of his life."
Even as she spoke the words, she knew they were just excuses. Things she had to tell herself to be able to look in the mirror again.
"If there is any such thing as fairness," Relena continued, slipping between the sheets. "You'll come back to me someday. And I'll be such a wonderful mother to you. I promise." She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, forming a cocoon of safety around her unborn baby. "Maybe then…he'll love and want us both."
Once the tears began to flow, she was unable to stop them. Relena fell asleep with wet cheeks, her hand resting on her lower abdomen.
Heero found her just like that when he returned to the mansion well after midnight. The tears had long since dried, but their tracks were still visible in the moonlight. He approached her bed without making a single noise and knelt down beside her.
His eyes drank in the sight of her, his passionate princess, the mother of his doomed child. He had her memorized; he spent so much of his life watching her from the shadows, from a safe distance where it was all right to love her as he'd never loved anyone before.
Love. Yes, that had to be what he was feeling. It had to be. Or else it wouldn't hurt this much. That's what happened when you let someone get too close. Pain. Vulnerability. Weakness. It was masochistic, loving like this.
But it would hurt even worse to stop, to walk away, to keep denying himself. And not only would it hurt him, she'd be devastated. And he'd destroyed enough of her already.
Heero's gaze wandered down to her lower stomach. The soft stretch of ticklish flesh he loved to kiss to make her giggle now carried something infinitely more precious than even the sound of her laughter. A life. The soldier who had taken so many lives had helped create one deep within her body. And true to his nature as such, he would be there for its destruction.
His bandaged hand reached to touch her, wanting to feel something of that life before it was snuffed out. Heero moved her slender hand away ever so carefully and skimmed his uninjured fingers underneath the bottom of her shirt to feel the lacy edge of her panties and the warm skin just above them.
His entire hand cupped her lower abdomen, but it was far too early for kicks or movement. Would that make it easier for her to go through with it, if she couldn't feel the child inside her? Would it make it easier for him?
He didn't think so.
"Relena," Heero whispered. He bent over and rested his forehead on her giving flesh. "Don't do it. Please."
In her dreams, Heero came to her, asking her not to do it…wanting their baby and a life together. But it was only that, a dream, because when she emerged from it, she was alone.
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, once again. I'm trying to get back on a regular posting schedule, but my own daily schedule is making it difficult. Thank you, though, for all the kind reviews. I'm so glad you like the story and are sticking with it. Until next time, take care!
****
Be My Downfall
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"Where the hell did you run off to?" Wufei looked up from his paperwork as Trowa entered their office. "It's been hours."
Trowa took off his uniform jacket and neatly draped it over the back of his chair. Sliding into his seat, he turned on his computer before replying, "I had something I had to do. Do I have to clear my schedule with you first?"
"Only during working hours." The Chinese man tossed him a folder, Frisbee style. "Take a look at that."
"What is it?" Trowa asked.
"Surveillance stills from the cameras in the President's office taken the night before she received the note."
"There's nothing here. We've been over them a hundred times."
"Exactly. No one came into that office in the middle of the night to drop off that letter. Which means someone on the inside either knowingly or unknowingly brought it into the office and put it in the President's incoming mail."
"All right." Trowa set the pictures aside. "But who? She trusts her staff implicitly."
Wufei snorted. "That's her own damn fault. Clearly, the most obvious person would be the secretary."
"Personal assistant."
"Whatever. She handled the mail every morning, opening, sorting, putting those little 'sign here' stickers on important dotted lines for the President's convenience. Why wasn't the note something she opened and checked out?"
"Because she thought it was personal mail," Trowa guessed. "She's not a social secretary."
"Personal assistant," Wufei mocked him ever so slightly. "But that's a little too convenient if you ask me. A blank envelope with no return address and it doesn't raise her suspicions at all?"
Trowa shrugged. "Maybe she's not a very good personal assistant slash secretary."
"Or maybe she's the one who snuck the letter in."
"I take it you intend to probe further?"
"Full background check." Wufei pointed to his computer. "I have it running now. If she's so much as littered in her lifetime, we'll know about it."
Stretching his arms, Trowa nodded. "You're not leaving much for Yuy or me to do."
"Yuy can't seem to think with any organ above his waist these days."
"At least Yuy knows what he wants," the taller man mused. "Some of us aren't so lucky."
"No one knows what they want until they get it."
"You're a closet Confucius."
Wufei shook his head. "Make yourself useful; start running through that list of guys the President's been out with the past three months."
"Looking for…"
"Anything out of the ordinary. Hell, Barton…you had the same training I did; use it!"
Wufei left the room, presumably for coffee. He drank the stuff like it was water. Trowa located the proper file and sat down again. But his attention was nowhere near the decent sized list of men the President had recently dated.
**No one knows what they want until they get it.**
For all of his sharp corners, it wasn't surprising that the Chinese man could be so sharp. Heero hadn't known what he wanted until he got it. *He* hadn't know what he wanted until he'd gotten it four years earlier.
But there was a flaw in Wufei's logic. Just because you found what you wanted didn't necessarily mean you'd have any idea what to do with it.
****
He couldn't go back to the mansion. There was too much Relena there. At least at his apartment, he didn't run the risk of turning a corner and bumping into her. Her perfume didn't waft through the rooms; the sweet sound of her voice didn't fill the silence. Within the stark white walls, he didn't feel her everywhere.
Heero slammed into the apartment, threw his keys onto the table so hard they bounced, and ripped off his uniform jacket. He kept going, stripping down to his white undershirt. The clothes were choking him, keeping him from breathing.
He'd just undone his belt buckle when he noticed the message light blinking on his communicator. It would have been easy to ignore it under any other circumstances. But what if it was Relena? What if she needed him?
What if she'd changed her mind?
He sat down in front of the communicator and pressed a few buttons to call up the message.
"One new message," the computerized voice told him. "Sent at 0945, today. Would you like to play this message now?"
"Why not?" Heero muttered, rubbing his eyes.
"Please respond with 'yes' or 'no'."
"Fuck…yes, alright?"
"Audio or vis…"
"Visual. Whatever."
Duo Maxwell's exuberant face popped up on the screen. "Yuy, you bastard, guess what?! I'm a dad!! Can you believe it?! Hilde had the baby really late last night!! It's a boy. A big one!! Almost nine pounds. Hilde won't let me touch her anymore." He pouted for a second, but his euphoria went on undaunted. "Anyway, we named him Jeremiah. He's totally healthy; Hilde's doing great. And we're coming to Earth to see you and the princess in about a week. Okay? Okay! And don't bother calling to tell us not to come. When Hilde gets her mind made up…" He shook his head; his messy, half-undone braid jerked back and forth. "Let's just say we'll see you soon."
The message ended, leaving Heero to stare at the communicator screen for a few minutes. Finally he stood up and walked into the tiny kitchen. There wasn't anything in the fridge except for a few wrinkled apples and a container of milk that had turned into cottage cheese. He opened the freezer and found nothing but ice. With it and the whisky under the counter that would never go bad on him, he fixed a drink.
He took a sip, holding the cold, burning liquid in his mouth. When he swallowed, he felt it scorch a path to his stomach. His hand gripped his glass hard…harder. It crushed under the pressure, and the glass shattered. When he relaxed his palm, blood spilled out, flowing down his arm and dripping onto the tiled floor. The alcohol pooled into a dozen deep cuts.
Heero stared at his injuries until the ice from the drink dulled the pain and the blood slowed. Only then did he head into the bathroom for the first aid kit.
As he picked glass out of his flesh and wound bandages around his fingers, the image of the baby returned. Only this time when the child reached for him, laughing, he saw himself drawing a gun and pointing it at the baby's soft, bald head.
Heero tore off a piece of surgical tape with his teeth. "Bang."
****
It took Relena hours to fall asleep, mostly due to the fact that she couldn't stop crying.
Heero had dropped her off at the mansion and driven off without a word. And she had no idea how to interpret his actions. He was Heero; she hadn't expected an emotional reaction to the news of her unexpected pregnancy. Part of her, the part that could still dream, had wanted him to put his foot down and declare that she simply could not kill their baby.
But that was silly. Offering to be with her during the abortion was much more Heero Yuy. Refusing to touch her when she needed something human to hang onto…that was the Heero she knew and yet somehow loved.
"It's better this way," she told her flat belly as she prepared for her doctor-ordered nap. "I'll never have to choose between you and the entire world. There won't be a scandal. And Heero won't feel like he's being tied to me for the rest of his life."
Even as she spoke the words, she knew they were just excuses. Things she had to tell herself to be able to look in the mirror again.
"If there is any such thing as fairness," Relena continued, slipping between the sheets. "You'll come back to me someday. And I'll be such a wonderful mother to you. I promise." She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, forming a cocoon of safety around her unborn baby. "Maybe then…he'll love and want us both."
Once the tears began to flow, she was unable to stop them. Relena fell asleep with wet cheeks, her hand resting on her lower abdomen.
Heero found her just like that when he returned to the mansion well after midnight. The tears had long since dried, but their tracks were still visible in the moonlight. He approached her bed without making a single noise and knelt down beside her.
His eyes drank in the sight of her, his passionate princess, the mother of his doomed child. He had her memorized; he spent so much of his life watching her from the shadows, from a safe distance where it was all right to love her as he'd never loved anyone before.
Love. Yes, that had to be what he was feeling. It had to be. Or else it wouldn't hurt this much. That's what happened when you let someone get too close. Pain. Vulnerability. Weakness. It was masochistic, loving like this.
But it would hurt even worse to stop, to walk away, to keep denying himself. And not only would it hurt him, she'd be devastated. And he'd destroyed enough of her already.
Heero's gaze wandered down to her lower stomach. The soft stretch of ticklish flesh he loved to kiss to make her giggle now carried something infinitely more precious than even the sound of her laughter. A life. The soldier who had taken so many lives had helped create one deep within her body. And true to his nature as such, he would be there for its destruction.
His bandaged hand reached to touch her, wanting to feel something of that life before it was snuffed out. Heero moved her slender hand away ever so carefully and skimmed his uninjured fingers underneath the bottom of her shirt to feel the lacy edge of her panties and the warm skin just above them.
His entire hand cupped her lower abdomen, but it was far too early for kicks or movement. Would that make it easier for her to go through with it, if she couldn't feel the child inside her? Would it make it easier for him?
He didn't think so.
"Relena," Heero whispered. He bent over and rested his forehead on her giving flesh. "Don't do it. Please."
In her dreams, Heero came to her, asking her not to do it…wanting their baby and a life together. But it was only that, a dream, because when she emerged from it, she was alone.
****
To Be Continued