Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine.

Songfic without the song.

Oneshot- complete.

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She walks around the house, listening to the rain pound against the windows, feeling the thunder shake the house, and she's worried.

She hates herself for it. If he was here and she was out in the storm would he be pacing around the house? Of course not. He'd be in bed, under the warm covers, asleep and dreaming- but not of her.

The house is chilly. She is barefoot, in old jeans and a worn T-shirt. Too cold for this weather that sends drafts curling around her house. She stops by the hall closet and reaches in, pulling out the first thing her hand touches.

Her old military jacket. Colonel Une's jacket. She pulls it around herself, sliding her arms through the sleeves.

She continues her patrol, peering through the windows, hoping to see the light of his headlights in their driveway. But it's dark; the only thing she can see is her own worn reflection.

A few more steps and she's in the doorway of their daughter's bedroom.

That's what Trieze calls her- 'our daughter'. But she is Trieze's daughter. At least in blood.

Mariamaia calls Une, 'mother', and has for most of her life. Ever since Trieze survived that battle with pilot 05, accepted the deal that the government insisted on, and married Une. He is now a 'consultant' for the new government. Not so new now.

Une had accepted the position at the head of the Preventers. She had accepted Trieze's offer of marriage. Even when Trieze admitted that he had a child with someone else. She had welcomed Marie with open arms, loving her for her father's sake and then her own.

Mariamaia was more Une's child than anyone's. Her father had never spent more than a small amount of time with her. It was Une that Mariamaia confided in, told her dreams to, confessed to…

Une watched Mariamaia sleep. No longer a child. Eighteen now. A young woman, ready to go out on her own and leave her 'mother' behind. The house will be so empty without her.

They never had any other children. Trieze hadn't wanted any more and Une had given in.

She always gave in to him, did what he wanted.

She hugs herself tightly, hating herself. She had been strong once. She was still strong. In her work she was respected, admired…

But not here. Never in this house.

Not for a long time.

The storm has gotten worse.

She makes a sudden decision. She walks quickly to the phone, dials a number. Waits.

A sleepy voice answers on the other end.

"Is he there?" She asks.

The voice hesitates; she can hear his breathing accelerate.

"It's storming. If he's there then I can go to bed. If he's not, then I will need to wait to make sure that he gets home in one piece."

"Commander- I don't know what you're insinuating…"

"Agent," she snaps. "I am not an idiot or a fool and I will thank you not to treat me like one. I have proof. Do I need to email you the pictures? Perhaps you'd like more copies of the notes he's sent you? Shall I tell you what position he prefers to take you in?"

A sharply indrawn breath on the other end makes her pause. A smile curves her lips. Colonel Une's smile.

A hit.

"I apologize…" he stammers. "I was not aware… You will have my resignation…"

"Quit being an idiot. You are one of our best agents, despite your taste in men. Simply tell me what I wish to know and we will forget this call occurred."

"He left about half an hour ago," the other admits. "I told him to stay, but he refused. Something about being there when Marie woke up…"

Une snorts. "She's not a fool either. She knows well enough where he is when he's working late. Thank you for the information, Agent."

She hangs up the phone, takes a deep breath. That was harder than she anticipated.

She walks down the hallway, towards the bedroom.

She is not going to do this again. The humiliation!

Once in the bedroom it is the work of a few minutes to get what she needs.

She sits down in front of her mirror in the dim bedroom and picks up her brush. The brush slides through her hair and she uses it to separate her hair into strands.

She hasn't braided it like this in so long.

As she slides the last pins in, lights sweep across her mirror.

He's home.

Her reflection meets her gaze evenly. Her hand reaches out, picking up the glasses that never leave her table. They slide into place and she rises to her feet.

She can hear his footsteps as he walks towards the bedroom. She opens the top drawer of her dresser and pulls out the gun that rests there.

She is tired of waiting for him to come home.

"Une? You're still awake?" He flips on the light and she sees the surprise in his eyes as he finds himself face to face with a woman that he thought was long dead.

"Lady…" He starts, and she pulls the hammer back with a click. "You can't…"

"I am not your lady. Not anymore. Do not presume to tell me what to do."

The gun is loud. He collapses to the floor, his hands covering the wound in his upper thigh.

Her lips curve in a sneer. She was always a good shot. Another inch to the left and he wouldn't have anything left for his lover.

"Just a little something to remember me by," she smiles and he shivers. "I would've liked to have hit another target, but Chang is a good agent and I don't wish to upset him."

She scoops her bag off the bed, pushing the gun inside as Mariamaia appears in the doorway, eyes wide and scared.

"Call an ambulance. Don't drive him yourself," her stepmother says, her voice gentler than it was a moment ago.

"Mom? Are you leaving?"

"Yes darling." Une touches Mariamaia's cheek. "I'm sorry about all this."

Mariamaia looks at her white-faced father on the floor and snorts. "I think he had it coming." She kisses her mother's cheek. "I'll see you soon."

Her daughter walks to the phone and Une turns her back on the man on the floor. She walks down the hallway and out the front doors, pausing only to grab the keys off the table in the hallway.

She doesn't know where she is going, but as she climbs into the warm car, watching the rain slide down over the window, happiness blooms in her heart.

She is free.