Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
A soft knock at the door made Relena jump. She glanced back at her work and frowned slightly, seeing the small irregularity that the twitch had caused in her signature. She sighed. Sometimes she just didn't want to work.
But she had responsibilities, and so she had to.
"What is it, Pagan?"
Her butler entered the room, bowing slightly as he closed the door behind him.
"I am sorry to bother you at this hour, Miss Relena, but I feel there is something you must know?"
Interested, she cocked her head.
Pagan remained silent, however. Instead, he drew a small device from his suit and aimed it at the wall. After a second, it slid back and the television screen turned on. Flipping carefully through the channels, he finally stopped at the news. Relena froze.
The anchor spoke calmly, as if nothing was wrong.
"Genetic engineering. It has always been a morality question, one that tugs at the strings of man's soul. Should it be allowed? Shouldn't it? That is the issue that we will talk about, as well as startling new revelations about a man who, through the altering of his very genetic code, is believed to be perfect. Join us now as we delve into this fascinating new development."
Relena glanced at him quizzically and then back at the screen, watching.
The anchor continued. "As per regulations, news teams are allowed to now travel with teams of scientists to help dig through wreckage still remaining from the Eve Wars. At this particular one, however, something extraordinary was found. Now to our special correspondent for this issue."
A new face appeared on the right half of the screen.
"Thank you. What makes this discovery so unique is the age of the files that were in the computer before it was purged. From our sources, we have discovered that some of the contained information is nearly fifty years old, from the required DNA tests of the Old World sports leagues.
The significance? Whoever received the mix of traits has access to the fastest and strongest members of our society, making him the ultimate athlete. In addition, there seems to be extra strands of genetic code in the computer from unknown sources. We can only speculate, but we want to believe that these come from the other end of the spectrum: the fastest and the strongest minds in the world.
The end result is a man who has the body of an athlete and most likely the mind of a scientist. If we as a people can find a way to perfect the techniques used here in this man's creation, I believe that we will eventually be able pre-birth immunize ourselves to a variety of diseases that we can only hope to battle now."
"You keep referring to the genetic individual as a man. Do you have a reason for this?"
The correspondent glanced down for a second before his response. "I know that this individual is a man. Along with the genetic make-up of his system, there was also an almost complete life history. We know who he is and what he has done.
Ladies and gentlemen, meet 'Superman.'"
Closing her eyes, Relena prayed that what she thought was about to happen wouldn't. Opening her eyes, she looked upon a very familiar face.
Why, Heero?
The three men leaned in, unaware of the news broadcast but knowing all the information it had released. They had just gone over the same information.
"So what do you think?"
Heero sat back and stared blankly at Quatre. "What is there that I can say? To live so long and then find my entire life has been something else? To know that I am alive through stolen DNA samples from great athletes and scientists? You tell me. What do I think?"
Duo spoke up. "We'll leave you here so that you can just think. I think you need some time to clear your head. We'll give you until Friday. That work?"
"I'll call you when I need someone to talk to. Just in case, talk to Jade and get her phone number."
"All right."
Silently they stood. After another moment of awkward silence, the guests left.
"You all right?"
Jade looked at Heero funny, stirring her still fresh cup of tea. As he sat at the kitchen table, she rose to get another mug.
"Hn."
He sat silently for several minutes, only acknowledging her as she handed him a fresh cup of Earl Grey. He contemplated his next move while sipping, but couldn't seem to find anything. Frustrated, he huffed again.
"Tell me about it?"
Cautiously she moved her chair closer to his side of the table. Almost imperceptibly her hand moved towards his.
"Or is it like everything else? Too sensitive?"
He finally looked up.
"What do you care?"
Quite visibly this time, she pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap. Slowly, almost delicately, her eyebrow raised.
"Who are you not to care? Everyday you come home from whatever errands you deem important to run, oblivious to the fact that you do have a housemate, and act like the world just ended for your dearly beloved. I think, as your landlord," he noted she no longer used the word friend, "I have a right to know my clients feelings. If you don't tell me what's up, you're out on your ass."
He glared at her, then turned away. He froze.
He was staring at his own face on the news. He turned to her. "I think," he remarked dryly, motioning with his head to the TV, "that you already know the problem."
Hope you like it. And thanks to everyone who gave feedback. I appreciate it.
Colonel