AN: Hello. I'm back on schedule again, so here's Chapter 4, ready for the reading. Dragonfire707, thanks for your warm encouragements! Pilot Zero, sorry but it doesn't look like the Gundams will be making an appearance in this fic. Gundamgirl818, thank you for the detailed review about which parts you liked and your helpful suggestion for future content. To be honest with you, I've already written several chapters ahead of this one; they're sitting in my laptop waiting for editing. But you'll be happy to know (or find out) that there is going to be something like that. It's right in this chapter, in fact! You and I, we think alike. : ) Thanks again to all my supportive reviewers, and enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.

That night, after the girls had returned with bags and bags of their loot, Zechs and Noin had returned to the mansion (Zechs had not sought out Heero, and Heero was all too eager to reciprocate), and everyone had retired to their own rooms, Heero sat at his laptop in the darkness of his room. He stared at the memo that Trowa had forwarded to all the pilots, a hundred different thoughts blazing through his mind.

Relena's in danger again. He saw her face in his mind's eye. I promised to protect her. At breakfast, she had rejected his help with the plate. She's changed. She doesn't cling to me anymore. There was a strange feeling in his chest. Sadness? Disappointment? What is this weakness inside of me...? I hate feeling weak. And then... That's exactly why... I had to stay away. A self-justification that made his hands clench involuntarily into tight fists.

"I had to stay away," he repeated monotonously into the darkness, in an attempt of vindication. What was your reason, again? "I'm better off without her." No, that's not it. "She's better off without me." Try again. "What do you know?" I know you're scared. The Perfect Soldier is afraid of his feelings for a girl. "I don't care about her." Liar. Heero grabbed the gun lying on the table beside his laptop. "Keep talking and I'll blow you to oblivion." Silence in his head. "Good." A brief moment passed. You know, she cares about you...

This time, the silence was on his end.

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It was the day before the party. All the last minute planning had only been completed the evening before. All week long Relena has kept herself true to her word. She did not fawn over Heero like a love-sick little girl, and only rarely did she lapse into moments of contemplation and reminiscence of the former pilot of Wing Zero. At first she had tried to convince herself that she didn't feel anything for the man who had saved her countless times, but her heart, the truest part of her, refused to be smothered. So she admitted to herself that she still loved him, even after all these years, but she resigned herself to the fact that Heero just did not, and very likely would never, return her feelings. Knowing this, she dug deeply inside her soul for the strength to go about with the semblance of normalcy. She was mature enough to live with a little unrequited love, she decided, without allowing it to break down her external composure. What goes on internally, though, would abide by no rules and was a burden that was meant to be hers and hers alone; it was her conviction that no one else need be bothered by it. And she felt reasonably confident that she could keep this act up for the duration of her friends' visit, as long as things remained exactly the way they have been for the past few days and that nothing happened to jerk an already tightly-stretched string.

Heero, too, had been watching Relena all week. He made sure to remain distant and cool to everyone's eyes, but something had been bothering him ever since that night when that voice in his head tried to commit suicide. Perfect soldiers didn't have weaknesses, it was true, but if something was affecting their concentration or performance, the proper course of action would be to solve the problem instead of shoving it aside. Acknowledging this logical strategy, Heero took for himself a sub-mission: to prove that he was not made weak by the amazing girl who was, for the next month or so, his and everyone else's gracious hostess. He would accomplish this end when he showed that Relena, not himself, was the one that was shaken by the other's presence. He would have to be cold, but that was nothing new to him. He would have to formulate a strategic plan, but that was no hard task. And he would very likely have to be cruel. Cruel. To Relena? Yes, he would do it, if by being so he could redeem himself. He always had been, and always must remain, the Perfect Soldier.

That night, they had all gathered for a late dinner at the mansion. Even Zechs and Noin had joined them for the meal that would usher in Relena's much-anticipated and all-important 21st birthday. They filled up the seats at the dining table located in the great hall. The breath-taking crystal chandelier hung a few feet above the center of the table, its teardrop treasures catching the light and throwing it in a million prismatic fragments onto the elegant china and silverware set meticulously upon a beautiful embroidered tablecloth.

Dinner itself was a pleasant affair. Quatre had produced several bottles of very old, very expensive wine, and they had all toasted to their favorite princess-politician, who blushed with modest joy. The arrival of the first course of the meal, and the promise of five more to follow, received Duo's loud, cheering approval. He was always a big fan of food.

Somewhere between the first and second course, Relena had announced that she had eaten quite her fill. She sipped her wine and tasted some of the dishes now and then as she watched her friends and family eat and listened to their conversations. The food was so plentiful and so exquisite that by the time the sixth and last course had been served, even Duo of the Bottomless Stomach was hard-pressed to fill up his plate.

Just as the former Deathscythe pilot had sat back in his chair and admitted defeat, the clock on the mantle clicked as its hands slipped into the vertical position. It was midnight. The next day had officially arrived, and Relena was officially 21. Everybody wished her "happy birthday!" and the girls brought in the extravagant cake they had baked for her, illuminated with twenty-one brightly burning candles. "Girls..." Relena tried to speak, but her joy was overwhelming. "Th-thank you. Thank you all so much." She passed her hands over her eyes, wiping away the tears of joy that made her clear cerulean eyes glisten so brightly.

But immediately she froze; the small and unconscious action had reminded her forcefully of one particular morning when she was fifteen years old. There was a rooftop involved, and a clear blue sky overhead; a mysterious new student leaning on the rail, and a torn invitation. And there was a gentle hand brushing the tears from her cheeks in a gesture mirroring the one she was making now. No! She jumped involuntarily with the realization of the origins of the memory.

"What's wrong, Relena?" asked Milliardo from beside her right hand. He was peering at her intently, concern showing unhidden through his eyes.

"No-nothing," she stammered, thinking quickly on her feet, "I just realized that... that the ball is tonight! It'll be long, and there's much to see to before it can begin, so I'd like to get some rest now while I can." She hoped that was a convincing act. She bent to blow out the dancing candles hastily. I wish Heero and I could stop playing this game. "If you would please excuse me... Thank you all again, you've been more than kind. I couldn't eat another bite, but please help yourselves to the cake." She stood from her seat and made to leave the dining hall.

The others were looking to each other, confused by the sudden change. But Relena's explanation seemed logical enough; there was a ball to attend tomorrow – or, rather, tonight – and there would be plenty of opportunities to talk and have fun then. So they allowed her to go, themselves opting to stay for only a few minutes more . However, Relena's act did not fool everybody. One pair of Prussian blue eyes noticed her wiping movement, saw her jerk her hand away immediately, and made the connection with the scene that she had remembered and that he had taken part in. He rose from his chair. Knowing that he, as a soldier, could not use the excuse of needing rest to discourage prying questions, said instead, "I have a report to make," and exited the room.

In the hall, he spied Relena making her way to her room and caught up with her rapidly. Preoccupied with trying to shake her unwanted memories, she did not notice his presence until he grabbed her wrist. She gasped and spun around in surprise, only to find herself face-to-face with the one man whom she would give anything not to be near at that very moment. Momentarily taken aback, she barely registered that no one else was nearby before she stared him down with eyes that flashed with anger. How dare he approach her so brashly, and just as she was seeking refuge from a memory of him?

Heero looked unflinchingly down into her fiery eyes. His grip on her wrist did not release. He spoke not a word, but instead tried to let his eyes speak for him. Relena knew that he saw through her and had come to her on that account, but refused to be the one to initiate anymore personal conversations, and so she focused on reading the expression on his face and the meaning in his eyes. They stood that way for minutes that seemed like centuries – eyes searching eyes, hearts searching hearts. Suddenly, with no sound uttered between them, Relena felt Heero's apology as if it had hit her square in the chest. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew as sure as he was standing there before her. And it moved her so much that a new tear fell from her eye and forged its own path down her already-tear-streaked face.

He saw the tear and gave in to his emotions.

With his free hand, Heero reached to brush it away. Memory became reality. But in a move that did not correspond with recollection, the man in front of her bent his head down towards her face. Lower and lower it dropped, and closer and closer he drew. Relena was frozen in place, terrified by the situation that she felt was spinning out of her control.

A million years later, her lips felt, for the first time, the lips of another. Of Heero. Time stopped in its track as the man who held her heart gave her her very first kiss. Her senses were filled with him; the back of her neck tingled under the hand he had laid there to keep her in place, his clean, masculine scent created a haze in her brain, and his lips were soft but firm as they pressed against hers gently. He had successfully obliterated all coherent thoughts from her mind except for how beautiful was the experience they were sharing at the moment.

When he ended the kiss and drew back from her, the spell was broken.

Frightened by the intensity of her own emotions, Relena lashed out at the man who caused such uncertainty in her. "Heero," she uttered finally, in a choking voice, as she brought her fingertips up to touch lightly her kiss-swollen lips, "Why did you just do that?"

"Relena..." he growled softly.

But she would not let him finish. This was the tug that snapped the string. Anger once again drove her. "Why did you come?" She was glaring at him with eyes that flashed with anger. "You stay away for over three years, knowing that you were taking my heart with you, but you did it all the same! For over three years, I've cried for you, my body ached for you, my heart bled for you to come back. But you never did. And now, when I've finally put you in my past – not stop loving you (I'll never be capable of that) but only acknowledge that you would never come back into my life again – when I've finally learned to live without you, you show up! And you k–" She found it unexplainably difficult to say. "You... kiss me... What am I supposed to do, Heero? What do you want me to do? Weep like some love-sick little girl that you've found it convenient to reappear in my life and give me my first kiss?" The tears were streaming unabated now. "I can do that, Heero. For you I will," she spat, and she turned and dashed to her room.

Heero was left standing alone in the hall. His face was a carefully blank mask as he fought down the urge to tear out his own heart.

AN: In order for this fic to work, you're going to have to just go with the flow (for example Relena gets her first kiss here and not it Blind Target). Please, just take it as it is... it's all planned to set the angsty mood. And also, I only briefly mentioned Zechs and Noin. Don't expect to see any more of them in future chapters other than the occasional reference here and there. Sorry to all the big fans of this couple. I like them too, but trying to work them into the story gets too complicated. Thanks for reading. Reviews will be greatly appreciated.