AN: Hi guys. The long-awaited night is finally here. Gundamgirl818, I hope Relena's dressing-up is to your liking. You have requested, several times, that I please make her pretty. : )
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
The next afternoon, there was an electric buzz in the air. Everyone was especially excited as they helped to set up for the grand birthday ball; Relena had informed them that invitations had all been sent half a year ago, and that every politician, dignitary, corporate head, and public figure would be in attendance.
Bent on burying her past with Heero – "the past" being everything that happened from the moment she saw him lying on the beach to anything that happened just a second ago – Relena used every reserve of her politician's skills to keep anyone else from discerning any details. And so far it was working; the schooled smile on her face ensured that none of her friends were any wiser to the most current episode of their personal difficulties. She herself was spared from having to dwell on the events of the previous night by her duties of hostess and supervisor to the preparations. She could never stay in one place for very long as she ran here and there addressing one thing and another, but all the while she made sure to carefully avoid one Heero Yuy.
Every one of her guests were also pulling their weight in the decorating. Hilde and Dorothy eagerly volunteered for placing the myriad of floral clusters and centerpieces into position. Sally and Wufei were competing as to who could cover and set the perfect tables. Each of them had armed themselves with a ruler calibrated down to the millimeter.
Heero was seated in the far corner, laptop open in front of him. Unsurprisingly, he had taken upon himself the task of programming and wiring all the security cameras, sensors, and checkpoints. He was not completely unaffected by the events of last night, but that still didn't change the fact that he knew nobody else was as equipped and experienced as himself in the area of electronic defense.
Quatre was in the kitchen. Word of his elegant taste for wines and other delicacies had spread to every staff in the mansion, and they had all come to ask him for his suggestions on what to serve. He was accompanied there by Duo, who promptly appointed himself the Official Taste-Tester. He would suffer no dish to pass by without having several pieces tasted and personally approved. But then again, he approved of every morsel he had put into his mouth.
Trowa was nowhere to be found in the kitchen or on the ballroom floor. Offering his help with a much less accessible task, he was now lightly and sure-footedly walking the length of the room on a makeshift tightrope, banners and streamers in hand, tacks and push-pins in mouth, embellishing the three-story-high ceiling with the colorful strips of paper. Relena had protested when he went up even before she could dispatch one of the staff to look for a suitable safety net, but he had called down to her not to worry, and that he was very comfortable at any heights. Still, she could not help yelling at him to be careful, to which he responded with the tiniest of smiles. He was, after all, a death-defying circus acrobat by occupation.
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That evening, the ballroom and the rest of the first floor of the mansion were crowded with the esteemed guests of Relena's birthday gala. By the far wall, a large, live symphony orchestra was playing strains of tasteful classical music. Gentlemen in slick black suits accompanying ladies in elegant evening dresses mulled about, chatting idly with each other. Topics ranged from politics to celebrity gossip to the breathtaking ceiling decorations whose methods of attachment nobody could fathom. The newly-come-of-age hostess of the ball had not made her appearance yet.
At the wall by the stairs, five young men were standing together, not speaking much but watching the crowd intently. Their friends were still upstairs, attending to the Vice-Foreign Minister.
The one with the long braid spoke up. "Geez, look at all these suits... buncha stiffs."
Then, the one with the small ponytail, "Maxwell, you're wearing a suit."
The man referred to as "Maxwell" replied, looking down at himself forlornly, "Yeah, but I'm not liking it."
"Guys come on," said a gentle voice belonging to a blond, "We're here for Miss Relena."
"Yeah, you're right. Speaking of the which, where is the Princess? Don't tell me she skipped out on her own party? Though if she did, I'd say she's got the right idea– " he was cut off when Hilde appeared beside him and took his arm, dressed in a royal purple slip that matched the color of his eyes. Sally and Dorothy, too, had taken their places with them. They were dazzling in a scarlet halter and an iridescent emerald dress, respectively. At the same moment, the room fell silent and all eyes turned to the top of the stairwell beside them.
There, poised with one hand resting softly against the banister, Relena Peacecraft stood shining like a vision. She was wrapped sensuously in a strapless apricot-hued gown that brought out the glow of her porcelain skin, accentuated her modest but pleasing curves, and drew attention to her slender figure in all the right places. The back was cut daringly-low, fully exposing a large, shapely expanse of creamy skin, while the skirt that skimmed the floor at the front lengthened until it formed a small, graceful train behind her. The material was just like fluid, and shimmered delicately regardless of whether she moved or not. She wore her hair in her trademarked style: two thin braids starting from her temples and pulled together at the back of her head, but it had been brushed by Dorothy until it was smooth and glossy. Her makeup was light and refreshing, just enough to illuminate her already clear eyes. Everything was perfect about her, from her carefully matched earrings to her fashionable high heels and even down to the minute detail of her manicure. The entire room was awestruck. Even the orchestra had paused in its composition.
Ever playing the politician, Relena took this opportunity when all eyes were trained on her to make a brief speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending my birthday ball. It is my sincerest hope that you all enjoy yourselves tonight."She smiled dazzlingly down at the occupied floor as they applauded her. The orchestra resumed their playing and Relena began to walk gracefully down the stairs.
On her way down, she scanned the room and glimpsed some dignitaries whom she needed to establish communications with before the night was over. Just as she placed her right foot on the third-to-last step, she was caught tightly by the wrist. She looked to the side of the stairs to the person who had the grip on her. Heero Yuy. Her cerulean eyes flashed angrily. How dare he touch her now? His own Prussian eyes were convoluted with emotions, but she didn't care. At the moment she was in pain. Was it from his steel grip on her wrist or from his mere presence? She wrenched her arm away from him roughly, feeling the skin of her wrist twist savagely, but knowing still that there was nothing she could do to herself that would burn more painfully than his touch.
She wanted to escape into the crowd, but the other Gundam pilots and the girls were all there. She was forced to smile.
"Hey, Beautiful. Killer party," said Duo, motioning with his head at a tense and snobby-looking group of ancient politicians standing rigidly about twelve feet behind his left shoulders.
She craned her neck to follow his gesture and sighed dejectedly, shaking her head. The Senators were some of the people on that list of must-greets. Then she noticed another group to their side. The men and women were all staring at the ceiling, many of them pointing and gesturing, and one man even frowned as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. Relena turned, laughing, to Trowa, who raised an eyebrow at her. "They're wondering how I accomplished that," she giggled, looking to the ceiling herself. Trowa also followed suit, but finding nothing extraordinary in the streamers hung 40 feet high, brought his gaze back down to the Vice-Foreign Minister. He gave her a small smile that said it was their little secret, and she, having caught his message, grinned brightly.
She felt more than saw Heero's distaste with their friendly little exchange.
"As much as I'd love to pass the evening with my favorite gentlemen and ladies," she began, looking at everyone but Heero, "this ball is not purely a fun affair. In fact, it's mostly business, and I'm behind schedule already. If you'll excuse me, I must make my rounds."
Quatre stepped forward. "Relena, if you don't mind, allow me to accompany you. I, too, have appearances to make."
She nodded and smiled, and together they left the group.
When they had taken a few steps away, Quatre spoke softly, "Relena, is everything all right? You seem upset by something lately."
How could he see through me? Am I not careful enough? Quatre is much too sensitive and observant... "What do you mean?" she decided to feign ignorance.
He looked down at her worriedly. Somehow, he knew she was hiding something, but he was not one to pry.
She caught his look. "Quatre, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
"All right, Relena. But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."
"Thank you," she said politely but curtly. She sped up her walk to approach the Senators, signifying the end of their conversation. It was not going in a direction she was comfortable with.
AN: Estimated number of chapters bumped up from ten to fourteen. Rating to go up in chapter 8, just to be on the safe side; will give another heads-up just before posting. Much thanks to all reviewers, both new and repeats. You guys keep me going.