Disclaimer: Usual applies - nothing but the podium and the audience belongs to me.
This one'll stick, I know it, I feel it. I really hope you enjoy this - since "Starting Over", my only other series, I've taken in a wider view of the GW universe - really a very detailed, absorbing place, even in the series. I'm glad I get to take that absorbing place into this storyline; I'm happy I get to connect with the characters again. I hope my efforts result in your staying on to see what the cast has done, as I'm sure you agree, the writer rarely decides what the people in the story do, being only the translater across the gulfs separating the story from its readers.
*Occurs in AC 196, beginning in - the colonies.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
He watched her from above, arms crossed, nodding to himself at several points in her dialogue - she had practiced this enough to know her way without coaching of when to pause, a problem she had had earlier. People needed to soak in what she said to fully understand what she meant and at times, she rushed forward too quickly, leaving the audience reeling and herself out of breath.
Picking a bit of fuzz from his sleeve he again concentrated his eyes on Relena, her face somewhat hard to read as she was far below. He had set himself in the upper balcony, deserted for the occasion in order to repair a fallen-in step on one of the staircases leading up to it. The velvet drapery, heavy and, he suspected from the smell, moldy, hid much of his figure, leaving only a pantleg and elbow to pop out, seen only by those with hawk-like vision.
She stood straight, shoulders pushed back, neck and head uplifted to a degree that suggested an intimate attentiveness, almost affection, she shared with her audience. Her expression remained empty, her mouth and eyes really the most expressive. She spoke with determination yet the speech she recited from memory held in its tone no demand, hands gripping the podium lightly.
He could hear the conclusion ringing in her voice as she finished up on another subtopic. On that note of finality he left his post above the seated crowd, careful in the matter of that fallen-in step on the way down. Keeping clear of the main entrance halls and other public areas he found his way to the left wing, ground floor, which connected with the stage on which Relena had just finished up. The dim, shattering noise of applause reached him as he turned a corner and into the room in which all the speakers stood, Relena among them.
At hearing another's tread she turned her head, brightening, a smile pulling at her mouth. Motioning to some chairs at his side she turned back to the tight group she was talking with, their voices low, muttering tones in the drone of hundreds of people leaving an echoing auditorium. Lights were turned low; the scraping of chairs being dragged into storage sounded beyond the stage; the glow left on Relena's hair dimmed and the balding official next to her mopped at his scalp with a hanky.
The group disembarked on their various assignments minutes later: business was now dealt with, they each had agendas to keep. They all shook hands and said Farewell, Looking forward till next time. That wrapped up, the group disbanded. Relena turned to him, tired and still smiling - they were virtually alone now, with only a janitor at the other end of the hall cleaning up the changing rooms. She sat down opposite him, resting her elbows on her knees, her stare meeting his readily.
"Any difficulties?" She referred to his reaching the top balcony without interference - in waiting for his answer she grabbed a cookie from a serving tray on the coffee table.....mmh. Dry. Like chewing clumpy sawdust.
"No." He held out a cup of water and she took it. "You spoke normally this time." She took a gulp of the water to wash down the bite of cookie.
"Good. Anything else?" She asked this wryly, but with warmth. He reflected on her performance that evening as she took the rest of the water and cookie.
"Pause more often." She shrugged obligingly.
"Alright, we'll work on that. Where's Pagan?" The butler entered at that moment, interrupting the cozy office discussion they were having, and said the car was waiting. Relena and Heero stood up, nodded at each other, settled a time when Heero would come to the office that afternoon and parted ways.
The year was January 6th, A.C. 198. Much had happened, yet, with a bigger outlook on the activities surrounding the Earth and the Colonies, one could say just as well that almost nothing had happened since last Christmas. Days had a more or less normal flavor and little mayhem had arisen since Mariemaia's rise to fame and her neat downfall from it (a set record as it happened all on the same day). This was noted as gratefully as it was met sarcastically, and not just in the Preventors Agency, the one branch of the government that received the most shock and blame for the incident.
Relena sat down and looked out the windshield, over Pagan's shoulder. They had done well - officials Pagoda and Schmiffon (the Balding One), Representative R.Luivani, and herself had grouped together over the weekend in a quick tour of one of the larger Colonies, supposedly regrouping in the week after next to finish up the project. They were a group with similar views, delving into politics that shared several platforms; the one difference existing between them were Relena and Luivani's youth, their age having made the rest distrust them slightly in comparison to their experience. This had been quickly resolved once the two officials came to know Relena and Luivani better.
Relena turned her head to watch a passing mansion, Greek-style, the fountain in the front shut off, thoughts on Heero. His help and general presence of late seemed to have given them both a level of trust that they had to get used to. But he supported her, and whether or not he made this a vocal fact was unimportant (such a requirement would have been, at the least, ridiculous) as they both focused on her work rather than either his or her life. Either way, it was kind of nice to have something so constant in her life.
The car stopped and Pagan was there to open the door for her. Stepping out she turned, catching sight of her temporary place of residence - the Loreil-de-Montagne, or Loreil of the Mountains, a recently built hotel the size of a small castle, based on a creation in France that had been torn apart in the eighteenth century. Flanked by two personnel officers she was accompanied to her suite overlooking the rising curve of the entirety of the Colony. It made such an abstract picture that the scene halted her, making her follow with her eyes the consistent curve of the structure supporting all those buildings and people, the darkness of space a dull background on which the Colony hung, spotted by stars.
Heero met her up there a while after she arrived. She had just ordered tea - she ordered something for him as well - and they sat down again, this time discussing her week. Before continuing the group tour of that day she had to reach the smaller Colony 1A8809 by noon tomorrow in order to discuss efficiency of immediate resource delivery; afterwards, a luncheon followed by a dinner meeting held by a Countess (in title only) and her court of lawyers.
Heero 'Harrumph"-ed at reading up the scheduled meetings with Countess Florine of Corennette. Relena spared a quick glance before returning to her reading material (an overview of a council meeting from last month - she best not have skipped over anything in that meeting..).
"Mmh." Relena shook her head while reading, having heard the tell-tale sound.
"She's easy to handle."
"You should take Luivani."
"No, I don't want to put up a front of aggression." Heero frowned at the picture of the Countess in the newspaper from June of A.C. 197.
"She'll take advantage of your time."
"I know, but she's very hard to turn down." The lawyers, at least. A tangle with the Countess's pack was last on Relena's wish-list, yet she was almost on a first-name basis with them - not the Countess, of course, oh no, that wouldn't be right...
Heero leaned back, ruffling through the contents of a report recently delivered to the suite. Tapping the china of the teacup against her lower lip Relena circled several necessities on a list of items she would need for the week, feet tapping out a rythm on the rug. Although the sound was muffled Heero looked up, saw them dong a jig and raised an eyebrow at Relena. She, catching this, stopped, laying the pencil down as well. Pausing, she set her teacup down.
She glanced out the window at the darkening Colony, her jet lag making the early evening feel like midnight, and breathed out slowly. Heero ceased watching her, returning, if listlessly, to shuffling packets of paper, ears tuned to her needs and moods.
"You need to sign this." He handed her something and she left it on the table. It took a moment before she said anything again then she turned to him, studying his face in the light thrown around by the various lamps and light fixtures in the suite. (The paper went ignored). His eyes flickered up and he froze in mid-page-turn.
For a moment, they stared at each other, seeped in thought, Relena wanting to say something - and saying nothing. They were tired, she had work, he was helping, he was staying...she could not say anything - indeed, she found she did not want to say anything lest it be something surprising to them both. No, no, keep quiet, that needs to be signed, anyway, just keep quiet...
"Lady Une." Relena said, straightening, "I forgot, when I am to see her?"
Heero bent down, quickly retrieving the agenda from under the pile on the table between them.
"Next Monday, on earth." She frowned, to herself.
"Earth."
"Hn."
"When is the shuttle scheduled to leave?"
"At 0400." Relena dug the heel of her palm into her cheekbone, eyes shut. She would get precious little sleep. Peeking at Heero briefly, she asked, somewhat reluctantly, "Will you stay on the Colonies?"
He shrugged, indicating he had not yet made the choice. She left it at that and they continued working till later that evening.
______________________________________________________________________________________
The two figures at the head of the runway eventually became the figures of Lady Une and a Preventer agent in uniform. Little was said on the way to the car due to the noise made by the plane - when they finally did reach a quiet area Lady Une broke the ice - in a way - by reintroducing Relena and Mariemaia, who had accompanied her to the landing grounds.
The girl was still in a wheelchair, still very bewildered and unusually quiet. She spoke softly, cold in her welcome but cordial enough. Relena found her presence disturbing but pitied her - the bullet shot by her Grandfather, Dekim, had narrowly missed her spinal column but had jarred several nerves and disrupted some muscles, thereby crippling her for the time being until she could begin physical therapy. Until then, it seemed Lady Une had taken her in. They were living, as far as Relena could tell, at the Preventor's quarters.
At some point Mariemaia parted company with them and Relena told her she hoped to visit again at a more appropriate time. The girl, surprisingly, gave her the smallest of smiles - a neat, even, white-toothed little smile - and held out a pale hand (she had her father's skin tone, Relena noted, as well as many of his facial characteristics).
"We hope to have you come again, Miss Relena." The name, first given to her officially by her former companion Dorothy Catalonia, sounded strange coming from Mariemaia's mouth in such an unintentional manner. Relena was reminded of Dorothy through it (she was a cousin of the girl's, the reminder was no wonder). She took the offered hand, smiling warmly. Mariemaia continued briefly, "I apologize for my lack of presence in the conversation. Perhaps we can pick it up another time." The blue-blue eyes were open for a moment, fully receiving and accepting of Relena's person.
She was completely unjudgemental. Relena could have been Quasimodo's ugly brother and been received as sweetly as this. And Mariemaia seemed to be healing well, fortunately. Perhaps charm was genetic - Treize seemed to have passed it on to her, among the other traits noted. It was a while before she saw Mariemaia again but she never doubted the few words exchanged to have been true.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Coincidentally, a familiar contact of Heero's was staying at the Colony of 1A8809, this serving as the reason Relena did not see him immediately on earth upon her arrival. At seeing her off at the airport - not watching from the gate, but rather from a table a distance away - he had left and headed for the residential areas of 1A8809 by way of shuttle bus. He was an inconspicuous figure among the scant few citizens to be seen at that time of day, carrying nothing but a coat, slung over the crook of his arm, dangling at the hip.
He arrived at a small, neatly constructed building nearly identical to the others dotting the block - the exception being it was painted a bright powder blue - and stared for a moment. The lawn was kept in fair condition and the shutters were closed but for those on the lower level. Heero sloped along the concrete path to the doorstoop where he rang the bell. Continuously.
A large range of noises sounded from inside - a series of Bangs, one Crash, no, two Crashes, a couple of Thudds - then silence. A lock was unbarred, a chain rustled and the door opened a little. Tired eyes looked into Heero's face and recognition slowly dawned in them. Finally, the door was opened wider - Heero stepped inside.
The contents of the house failed to uphold the relatively clean impression one received from the outside - paper, crumpled and unused, sprinkled the floor in various piles as did marker caps (without the markers), chewed-on pens, a small collander in the corner, an old Macaroni and Cheese box, and several boxer shorts. The host of this snug home, standing as though having been punched at first, waved a clumsy arm around, wrist dangling as if unatttached. A sleep-mussed braid lay looped over the young man's shoulder.
"Hi there, make yourself at home." Heero nodded, slipping out of his shoes. He picked up yesterday's newspaper from the floor (seemingly unread) and set it on a stand in the hall. Looking up, he caught Duo's shape disappearing around the corner and followed after it, into the kitchen. The disarray in there was, surprisingly, almost nonexistent. He sat down at a table set in the middle of the room, watching his companion of old move around in a drunken, newly-wakened stupor, scratching his sides and head while searching the drawers and cabinets.
Duo held up a measuring cup containing ground coffee, eyebrows raised briefly - Heero took the offer wordlessly, settling into the unpadded chair he was on.
Duo's shirt was unbuttoned, something he had slept in last night, and he wore only one sock. He glanced over at Heero, feeling dimly puzzled but, the time being barely six in the morning on a day he did not work, he had yet to truly feel the emotion. Handing Heero a mug they waited for the coffee to brew, both staring at the machine. In truth, the act of nonverbally communicating with each other had escaped them - coffee sounded better than an innocent interrogation.
____________________
"Any particular reason for this visit, Heero?" An unintentional Slurp sounded.
"No."
"Oh. Alright." The coffee was very, very bitter. Duo sighed, glancing around in a near-moody way. He blew breath out one corner of his mouth then tapped his fingers against the table surface. The silence was, if at all possible, clotted and dewy, and Heero waited for the intensity of the unexpected visit to wear off a little. After a few minutes of drumming (without rythm) Duo looked up at the clock in a strange way.
"Hilde's not here yet..." Heero glanced up, still sipping, in a mildly questioning manner that prompted Duo into an explanation (somewhat long-winded).
Heero had known of a Hilde, but what this Hilde had to do with Duo's present life was unknown to him. The reason for his mentioning her, though, was less complex than it first sounded: having had few chances to see each other once the war was over Duo and Hilde had met up on a when-the-time-is-right basis. Through events they had no control over they now both had lives on the same Colony, this making it possible for the relationship to be furthered rather than strung along: since then Duo kept a room for when Hilde felt like staying over.
"She's a good girl. Maybe you'll meet her." Duo leaned forward, eyes fastening on Heero again. "How long are you staying, anyway?"
Heero shrugged and Duo returned the motion. They both stared out into the yard - a brief expanse of green opening into a towering pile of metal tubes, various bits and parts of different-sized motors, chunks of elderly mobil dolls, a few feet and hands-parts of mobil suits and other such paraphernalia belonging to Duo's (and Hilde's) growing scrap pile business. The sun glinted off the metal, but due to the manmade 'ozone' glass shield separating the Colony's atmosphere from the dead vacuum of space, the light came through hazier, reflecting not as sharply as it would on earth on such a sunny morning.
Duo brought their mugs to the counter for a refill and continued talking about recent activities, Hilde, the house. He never had a house before - an orphanage sectioned off into rooms for a dozen people was not a house; the cockpit of a Gundam was not a house; a school dormitory was even less of a house than the aforementione cockpit. Duo was not used to keeping house, either, and, according to his roommate, he kept the garage more organized than the hall closet. What really got to Hilde, though, as was told by Duo, was Duo's tendency to leave his clothes everywhere - fresh underwear in particular.
Heero pulled out a pair of longjohn's from under the table at hearing this, all questions in his mind dying at that last bit. The second cup of coffee was even more bitter than before, forcing Heero to take his time.
They heard the front door open then, shutting with a Bang.
"Duo, I've - Duo, what's all this?" The voice sounded mildly irritated and Duo stood up from his chair.
"Hilde, come on in the kitchen, I - "
"I cleaned this up last week, Duo!"
"Yeah, I know, but come here for a - "
"I'm not doing this anymore for you, you know - oh, I brought over a crate of tangerines, since you never have any frui - "
"Hilde, please, come into the kitchen." Silence, cautionary footsteps, a face peeking out from around the wall. Hilde's eyes widened at the figure in the chair.
"Oh. Hello." She turned quizzically to Duo, his boxers lying on top of the crate of tangerines she had brought in. Setting these on the counter she approached the table at which they sat, waiting for introductions.
Duo motioned to Hilde.
"Heero, this is Hilde. Hilde, this is an old - partner of mine." Tilting her head to the side Hilde turned to Heero, who now brought his face up to meet her's in a blunt (not altogether welcome but not unkind) stare. They exchanged wordless greetings before she once again turned to Duo. An old light had sprung up in her face as all three unknowingly shared the same, back-to-the-past type of bowel twist (Duo's made a sound, although that could be due to the coffee).
"Pilot zero-one?" Duo doubled back and Heero glanced out at the yard again, making Hilde's eyes travel over his shoulders once more.
"Huh. Yeah."
"Ah." She turned back around. "I'll be back in a moment."
They were left staring after her, Duo grinning a little, Heero quite expressionless.
"Astute." He said. Duo lifted his shoulders.
"She's good." Sliding up to the other counter he took the boxer shorts off the crate. "Tangerine, Heero?"
______________________________________________________________________________________
This one'll stick, I know it, I feel it. I really hope you enjoy this - since "Starting Over", my only other series, I've taken in a wider view of the GW universe - really a very detailed, absorbing place, even in the series. I'm glad I get to take that absorbing place into this storyline; I'm happy I get to connect with the characters again. I hope my efforts result in your staying on to see what the cast has done, as I'm sure you agree, the writer rarely decides what the people in the story do, being only the translater across the gulfs separating the story from its readers.
*Occurs in AC 196, beginning in - the colonies.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
He watched her from above, arms crossed, nodding to himself at several points in her dialogue - she had practiced this enough to know her way without coaching of when to pause, a problem she had had earlier. People needed to soak in what she said to fully understand what she meant and at times, she rushed forward too quickly, leaving the audience reeling and herself out of breath.
Picking a bit of fuzz from his sleeve he again concentrated his eyes on Relena, her face somewhat hard to read as she was far below. He had set himself in the upper balcony, deserted for the occasion in order to repair a fallen-in step on one of the staircases leading up to it. The velvet drapery, heavy and, he suspected from the smell, moldy, hid much of his figure, leaving only a pantleg and elbow to pop out, seen only by those with hawk-like vision.
She stood straight, shoulders pushed back, neck and head uplifted to a degree that suggested an intimate attentiveness, almost affection, she shared with her audience. Her expression remained empty, her mouth and eyes really the most expressive. She spoke with determination yet the speech she recited from memory held in its tone no demand, hands gripping the podium lightly.
He could hear the conclusion ringing in her voice as she finished up on another subtopic. On that note of finality he left his post above the seated crowd, careful in the matter of that fallen-in step on the way down. Keeping clear of the main entrance halls and other public areas he found his way to the left wing, ground floor, which connected with the stage on which Relena had just finished up. The dim, shattering noise of applause reached him as he turned a corner and into the room in which all the speakers stood, Relena among them.
At hearing another's tread she turned her head, brightening, a smile pulling at her mouth. Motioning to some chairs at his side she turned back to the tight group she was talking with, their voices low, muttering tones in the drone of hundreds of people leaving an echoing auditorium. Lights were turned low; the scraping of chairs being dragged into storage sounded beyond the stage; the glow left on Relena's hair dimmed and the balding official next to her mopped at his scalp with a hanky.
The group disembarked on their various assignments minutes later: business was now dealt with, they each had agendas to keep. They all shook hands and said Farewell, Looking forward till next time. That wrapped up, the group disbanded. Relena turned to him, tired and still smiling - they were virtually alone now, with only a janitor at the other end of the hall cleaning up the changing rooms. She sat down opposite him, resting her elbows on her knees, her stare meeting his readily.
"Any difficulties?" She referred to his reaching the top balcony without interference - in waiting for his answer she grabbed a cookie from a serving tray on the coffee table.....mmh. Dry. Like chewing clumpy sawdust.
"No." He held out a cup of water and she took it. "You spoke normally this time." She took a gulp of the water to wash down the bite of cookie.
"Good. Anything else?" She asked this wryly, but with warmth. He reflected on her performance that evening as she took the rest of the water and cookie.
"Pause more often." She shrugged obligingly.
"Alright, we'll work on that. Where's Pagan?" The butler entered at that moment, interrupting the cozy office discussion they were having, and said the car was waiting. Relena and Heero stood up, nodded at each other, settled a time when Heero would come to the office that afternoon and parted ways.
The year was January 6th, A.C. 198. Much had happened, yet, with a bigger outlook on the activities surrounding the Earth and the Colonies, one could say just as well that almost nothing had happened since last Christmas. Days had a more or less normal flavor and little mayhem had arisen since Mariemaia's rise to fame and her neat downfall from it (a set record as it happened all on the same day). This was noted as gratefully as it was met sarcastically, and not just in the Preventors Agency, the one branch of the government that received the most shock and blame for the incident.
Relena sat down and looked out the windshield, over Pagan's shoulder. They had done well - officials Pagoda and Schmiffon (the Balding One), Representative R.Luivani, and herself had grouped together over the weekend in a quick tour of one of the larger Colonies, supposedly regrouping in the week after next to finish up the project. They were a group with similar views, delving into politics that shared several platforms; the one difference existing between them were Relena and Luivani's youth, their age having made the rest distrust them slightly in comparison to their experience. This had been quickly resolved once the two officials came to know Relena and Luivani better.
Relena turned her head to watch a passing mansion, Greek-style, the fountain in the front shut off, thoughts on Heero. His help and general presence of late seemed to have given them both a level of trust that they had to get used to. But he supported her, and whether or not he made this a vocal fact was unimportant (such a requirement would have been, at the least, ridiculous) as they both focused on her work rather than either his or her life. Either way, it was kind of nice to have something so constant in her life.
The car stopped and Pagan was there to open the door for her. Stepping out she turned, catching sight of her temporary place of residence - the Loreil-de-Montagne, or Loreil of the Mountains, a recently built hotel the size of a small castle, based on a creation in France that had been torn apart in the eighteenth century. Flanked by two personnel officers she was accompanied to her suite overlooking the rising curve of the entirety of the Colony. It made such an abstract picture that the scene halted her, making her follow with her eyes the consistent curve of the structure supporting all those buildings and people, the darkness of space a dull background on which the Colony hung, spotted by stars.
Heero met her up there a while after she arrived. She had just ordered tea - she ordered something for him as well - and they sat down again, this time discussing her week. Before continuing the group tour of that day she had to reach the smaller Colony 1A8809 by noon tomorrow in order to discuss efficiency of immediate resource delivery; afterwards, a luncheon followed by a dinner meeting held by a Countess (in title only) and her court of lawyers.
Heero 'Harrumph"-ed at reading up the scheduled meetings with Countess Florine of Corennette. Relena spared a quick glance before returning to her reading material (an overview of a council meeting from last month - she best not have skipped over anything in that meeting..).
"Mmh." Relena shook her head while reading, having heard the tell-tale sound.
"She's easy to handle."
"You should take Luivani."
"No, I don't want to put up a front of aggression." Heero frowned at the picture of the Countess in the newspaper from June of A.C. 197.
"She'll take advantage of your time."
"I know, but she's very hard to turn down." The lawyers, at least. A tangle with the Countess's pack was last on Relena's wish-list, yet she was almost on a first-name basis with them - not the Countess, of course, oh no, that wouldn't be right...
Heero leaned back, ruffling through the contents of a report recently delivered to the suite. Tapping the china of the teacup against her lower lip Relena circled several necessities on a list of items she would need for the week, feet tapping out a rythm on the rug. Although the sound was muffled Heero looked up, saw them dong a jig and raised an eyebrow at Relena. She, catching this, stopped, laying the pencil down as well. Pausing, she set her teacup down.
She glanced out the window at the darkening Colony, her jet lag making the early evening feel like midnight, and breathed out slowly. Heero ceased watching her, returning, if listlessly, to shuffling packets of paper, ears tuned to her needs and moods.
"You need to sign this." He handed her something and she left it on the table. It took a moment before she said anything again then she turned to him, studying his face in the light thrown around by the various lamps and light fixtures in the suite. (The paper went ignored). His eyes flickered up and he froze in mid-page-turn.
For a moment, they stared at each other, seeped in thought, Relena wanting to say something - and saying nothing. They were tired, she had work, he was helping, he was staying...she could not say anything - indeed, she found she did not want to say anything lest it be something surprising to them both. No, no, keep quiet, that needs to be signed, anyway, just keep quiet...
"Lady Une." Relena said, straightening, "I forgot, when I am to see her?"
Heero bent down, quickly retrieving the agenda from under the pile on the table between them.
"Next Monday, on earth." She frowned, to herself.
"Earth."
"Hn."
"When is the shuttle scheduled to leave?"
"At 0400." Relena dug the heel of her palm into her cheekbone, eyes shut. She would get precious little sleep. Peeking at Heero briefly, she asked, somewhat reluctantly, "Will you stay on the Colonies?"
He shrugged, indicating he had not yet made the choice. She left it at that and they continued working till later that evening.
______________________________________________________________________________________
The two figures at the head of the runway eventually became the figures of Lady Une and a Preventer agent in uniform. Little was said on the way to the car due to the noise made by the plane - when they finally did reach a quiet area Lady Une broke the ice - in a way - by reintroducing Relena and Mariemaia, who had accompanied her to the landing grounds.
The girl was still in a wheelchair, still very bewildered and unusually quiet. She spoke softly, cold in her welcome but cordial enough. Relena found her presence disturbing but pitied her - the bullet shot by her Grandfather, Dekim, had narrowly missed her spinal column but had jarred several nerves and disrupted some muscles, thereby crippling her for the time being until she could begin physical therapy. Until then, it seemed Lady Une had taken her in. They were living, as far as Relena could tell, at the Preventor's quarters.
At some point Mariemaia parted company with them and Relena told her she hoped to visit again at a more appropriate time. The girl, surprisingly, gave her the smallest of smiles - a neat, even, white-toothed little smile - and held out a pale hand (she had her father's skin tone, Relena noted, as well as many of his facial characteristics).
"We hope to have you come again, Miss Relena." The name, first given to her officially by her former companion Dorothy Catalonia, sounded strange coming from Mariemaia's mouth in such an unintentional manner. Relena was reminded of Dorothy through it (she was a cousin of the girl's, the reminder was no wonder). She took the offered hand, smiling warmly. Mariemaia continued briefly, "I apologize for my lack of presence in the conversation. Perhaps we can pick it up another time." The blue-blue eyes were open for a moment, fully receiving and accepting of Relena's person.
She was completely unjudgemental. Relena could have been Quasimodo's ugly brother and been received as sweetly as this. And Mariemaia seemed to be healing well, fortunately. Perhaps charm was genetic - Treize seemed to have passed it on to her, among the other traits noted. It was a while before she saw Mariemaia again but she never doubted the few words exchanged to have been true.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Coincidentally, a familiar contact of Heero's was staying at the Colony of 1A8809, this serving as the reason Relena did not see him immediately on earth upon her arrival. At seeing her off at the airport - not watching from the gate, but rather from a table a distance away - he had left and headed for the residential areas of 1A8809 by way of shuttle bus. He was an inconspicuous figure among the scant few citizens to be seen at that time of day, carrying nothing but a coat, slung over the crook of his arm, dangling at the hip.
He arrived at a small, neatly constructed building nearly identical to the others dotting the block - the exception being it was painted a bright powder blue - and stared for a moment. The lawn was kept in fair condition and the shutters were closed but for those on the lower level. Heero sloped along the concrete path to the doorstoop where he rang the bell. Continuously.
A large range of noises sounded from inside - a series of Bangs, one Crash, no, two Crashes, a couple of Thudds - then silence. A lock was unbarred, a chain rustled and the door opened a little. Tired eyes looked into Heero's face and recognition slowly dawned in them. Finally, the door was opened wider - Heero stepped inside.
The contents of the house failed to uphold the relatively clean impression one received from the outside - paper, crumpled and unused, sprinkled the floor in various piles as did marker caps (without the markers), chewed-on pens, a small collander in the corner, an old Macaroni and Cheese box, and several boxer shorts. The host of this snug home, standing as though having been punched at first, waved a clumsy arm around, wrist dangling as if unatttached. A sleep-mussed braid lay looped over the young man's shoulder.
"Hi there, make yourself at home." Heero nodded, slipping out of his shoes. He picked up yesterday's newspaper from the floor (seemingly unread) and set it on a stand in the hall. Looking up, he caught Duo's shape disappearing around the corner and followed after it, into the kitchen. The disarray in there was, surprisingly, almost nonexistent. He sat down at a table set in the middle of the room, watching his companion of old move around in a drunken, newly-wakened stupor, scratching his sides and head while searching the drawers and cabinets.
Duo held up a measuring cup containing ground coffee, eyebrows raised briefly - Heero took the offer wordlessly, settling into the unpadded chair he was on.
Duo's shirt was unbuttoned, something he had slept in last night, and he wore only one sock. He glanced over at Heero, feeling dimly puzzled but, the time being barely six in the morning on a day he did not work, he had yet to truly feel the emotion. Handing Heero a mug they waited for the coffee to brew, both staring at the machine. In truth, the act of nonverbally communicating with each other had escaped them - coffee sounded better than an innocent interrogation.
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"Any particular reason for this visit, Heero?" An unintentional Slurp sounded.
"No."
"Oh. Alright." The coffee was very, very bitter. Duo sighed, glancing around in a near-moody way. He blew breath out one corner of his mouth then tapped his fingers against the table surface. The silence was, if at all possible, clotted and dewy, and Heero waited for the intensity of the unexpected visit to wear off a little. After a few minutes of drumming (without rythm) Duo looked up at the clock in a strange way.
"Hilde's not here yet..." Heero glanced up, still sipping, in a mildly questioning manner that prompted Duo into an explanation (somewhat long-winded).
Heero had known of a Hilde, but what this Hilde had to do with Duo's present life was unknown to him. The reason for his mentioning her, though, was less complex than it first sounded: having had few chances to see each other once the war was over Duo and Hilde had met up on a when-the-time-is-right basis. Through events they had no control over they now both had lives on the same Colony, this making it possible for the relationship to be furthered rather than strung along: since then Duo kept a room for when Hilde felt like staying over.
"She's a good girl. Maybe you'll meet her." Duo leaned forward, eyes fastening on Heero again. "How long are you staying, anyway?"
Heero shrugged and Duo returned the motion. They both stared out into the yard - a brief expanse of green opening into a towering pile of metal tubes, various bits and parts of different-sized motors, chunks of elderly mobil dolls, a few feet and hands-parts of mobil suits and other such paraphernalia belonging to Duo's (and Hilde's) growing scrap pile business. The sun glinted off the metal, but due to the manmade 'ozone' glass shield separating the Colony's atmosphere from the dead vacuum of space, the light came through hazier, reflecting not as sharply as it would on earth on such a sunny morning.
Duo brought their mugs to the counter for a refill and continued talking about recent activities, Hilde, the house. He never had a house before - an orphanage sectioned off into rooms for a dozen people was not a house; the cockpit of a Gundam was not a house; a school dormitory was even less of a house than the aforementione cockpit. Duo was not used to keeping house, either, and, according to his roommate, he kept the garage more organized than the hall closet. What really got to Hilde, though, as was told by Duo, was Duo's tendency to leave his clothes everywhere - fresh underwear in particular.
Heero pulled out a pair of longjohn's from under the table at hearing this, all questions in his mind dying at that last bit. The second cup of coffee was even more bitter than before, forcing Heero to take his time.
They heard the front door open then, shutting with a Bang.
"Duo, I've - Duo, what's all this?" The voice sounded mildly irritated and Duo stood up from his chair.
"Hilde, come on in the kitchen, I - "
"I cleaned this up last week, Duo!"
"Yeah, I know, but come here for a - "
"I'm not doing this anymore for you, you know - oh, I brought over a crate of tangerines, since you never have any frui - "
"Hilde, please, come into the kitchen." Silence, cautionary footsteps, a face peeking out from around the wall. Hilde's eyes widened at the figure in the chair.
"Oh. Hello." She turned quizzically to Duo, his boxers lying on top of the crate of tangerines she had brought in. Setting these on the counter she approached the table at which they sat, waiting for introductions.
Duo motioned to Hilde.
"Heero, this is Hilde. Hilde, this is an old - partner of mine." Tilting her head to the side Hilde turned to Heero, who now brought his face up to meet her's in a blunt (not altogether welcome but not unkind) stare. They exchanged wordless greetings before she once again turned to Duo. An old light had sprung up in her face as all three unknowingly shared the same, back-to-the-past type of bowel twist (Duo's made a sound, although that could be due to the coffee).
"Pilot zero-one?" Duo doubled back and Heero glanced out at the yard again, making Hilde's eyes travel over his shoulders once more.
"Huh. Yeah."
"Ah." She turned back around. "I'll be back in a moment."
They were left staring after her, Duo grinning a little, Heero quite expressionless.
"Astute." He said. Duo lifted his shoulders.
"She's good." Sliding up to the other counter he took the boxer shorts off the crate. "Tangerine, Heero?"
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