Tourniquet

Chapter Three

By Jillian Storm

~*~

and if the music

starts before I get there

dance without me

~Over the Rhine

(Disclaimer: characters not mine.)

~*~

The work at the junkyard had unfortunately trimmed her figure down into an almost nonexistent bosom, and the blue dress did little to flatter the almost boyish trim of her angles. It didn't help that it was the same dress that Hilde had worn the year before, when Duo Maxwell had invited her to the political Christmas party to celebrate the end of Mariemaia's uprising. The same dress that Relena Peacecraft had graciously offered to what she saw as the latest charity case of the colonies.

However, Hilde hadn't felt that way the year before. She'd been quite swept off her feet by Duo Maxwell and paraded around the ballroom floor.

Glancing over at her brother, she watched as Nichol pulled at his necktie and cleared his throat into his opposite fist. A slight shine of nervousness started to trace the edge of his jaw, "Rather sweet of you to come with me, Nicky," she let her fingers curl around his elbow, as much to reassure him as reassure herself. "I don't rightly feel like I belong here."

"You and me both." Douglas Nichol jerked his chin down in a sharp, brief nod, but his eyes were quickly surveying the room as it spread out from the seasonally decorated front hallway into the vast open brightness of the main celebration floor. "Ready?" He kept his nose pointed forward, but let his gaze slip down to analyze her expression.

"If you are." Hilde gave him a limp smile, her lips feeling unable to maintain the shape. She didn't know exactly when she'd become so dependent on her new family. She didn't know exactly when she'd realized who would become her truest friends while time and expectations spread everyone else thin.

~*~

Before

~*~

The papers for Nichol's official dismissal from military service came to the hospital the same day Hilde received her documentation for release. The Chipper Nurse had stopped by Hilde's room to deliver both messages.

"Mr. Maxwell called while you must have been out walking the halls," the nurse had fussed around Hilde's room, which blossomed in the healthiest colors of sunset. Nichol watched new light sparkle in his sister's eyes at the mention of the Gundam Pilot's name.

He'd felt jealousy wrap around his waist like a belt held one link too tight.

The landslide of misfortune the cards had dealt Nichol had seemed to meet a resting point in the security of Hilde. The uncommon waves of affection she bestowed on him were an addictive source of warmth. He'd tried to remain indifferent to what others thought of him, putting duty and practicality ahead of any need for companionship. Even his mixed feelings for Lady Une had come second to orders when he let himself fall too deeply into withdrawal.

"Did he leave a message?" Hilde asked, trying to add an aloof chill to her question and the difference from her normal tone was enough to emphasize the eagerness for the answer.

"Just that he wished you best, and here's the rest of it." The nurse who ran her floor tighter than any soldier handed Hilde a folded slip of paper, "I wrote it down word for word."

"Thank you," Hilde used both hands to hold the message, most likely to hide the nervous tremble of her fingers. Nichol almost feared that she'd send him away from the room to read the note in private. Instead, she waited long enough for the nurse to leave, and then slipped her fingers under the edge of the paper to flip open to the text.

He watched her, trying to read her expression for clues to the content. Was Maxwell going to propose some relationship, some meeting, some acquaintance that might take her away? Nichol could already imagine the phone call he'd be making to the Catalonia's, "Yes, tell mother that I've decided not to come to visit. I really didn't have anything that significant to share with her that needed done right way."

He wondered what sort of job an ex-soldier could find. His thoughts pondered the remaining funds in his account and wondered what sort of housing he could afford either. Asking his mother or the Catalonia's for assistance was out of the question. He would disappear first. The sunset light waned and only caused to diminish his expectations.

"Why don't you go with your brother, and I'll catch up with you afterward? Don't worry about me." Her voice pitched high in her reading voice and pierced what had quickly become a chilly silence, as the diminishing sun seemed to drain away all the heat.

"Oh," His relief radiated such guilt he couldn't even feel glad for the reprieve.

Hilde met Nichol's eyes with a brief appearance of remorse, and then she brightened, "What a fool. To think that I'd even consider going with him when I promised I'd go with you around Earth already." And he believed her.

~*~

The Catalonia household was in such an upheaval already that when Nichol showed up with a bastard younger sister in tow, at first, hardly a glance was sent their way.

"What's going on?" Nichol reached out and grabbed the flaying arm of a servant rushing past and talking to himself in a high-pitched squeak. Hilde glided to one side as the momentum of the household helper forced Nichol to take a few steps forward for balance.

"Mistress Catalonia told us to make ready. Her daughter is coming home today. Unexpectedly soon." The fretful contortion that crossed the servant's face

"Dorothy?" Hilde watched a new blankness cross Nichol's features, as if he didn't know how to react, "Dorothy's coming home from school?"

"School?" The servant pulled free as Nichol's grip slackened, "She's coming home from the hospital. The hospital they keep now in Luxemburg. For the soldiers who had troubles . . ."

Hilde couldn't decide if the servant was completely daft or incredibly frightened of saying too much to the wrong person. Nichol's intimidating approach loosened the other man's lips, until he had time to think better and sprinted away from his captor. His footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"Looks like we picked a rather busy time to come home," Nichol added the last word with a wry grimace.

"Dorothy is . . ." Hilde asked, rather overwhelmed by the fury of movement around her and the full height of the foyer ceiling as it stretched up to the highest point of the country estate.

"A girl about your age. Dorothy's the only heir to the Catalonia estates, and her mother is my mother's best friend. If you can call it friendship," He snorted, but the flippant dismissal of his tone was betrayed by the way his hand absently traced the antique furniture with something akin to comfort. "Dotty's alright if you can get her to talk about something other than war. Her bitterness took her a strange direction. I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't chasing down her own Gundam Pilot. She would have had such a hateful admiration for them."

"Like you?" Hilde teased, but she didn't shy away from making her point either.

His scowl satisfied her, until she saw a singular woman open the door from which they had just entered. Hilde didn't have to ask. The darkness of her eyes in the pale face was startling beautiful, but the loveliness only stretched out to measure a woman who achieved presence by intimidation. Even seeing her son did not startle Nichol's mother. Instead, she pushed the door open wide to show a steady trail of younger staff, stable boys, carrying along luggage like a trail of hard worked ants.

"It seems as if all the children have come home at once." Nichol's mother spoke softly, but each syllable weighed itself with importance. Hilde pressed her lips together, biting back her instinct to apologize and feeling an unexpected burden of expectations washing over her.

"Mother," Nichol almost made the appearance of a bow, offering a small courtesy.

"We were expecting you, however. Dorothy's return was sooner than anticipated."

"Was she hurt? Bert mentioned a hospital," The concern was real, and Hilde felt a driving curiosity about his past with this girl. They did grow up together for a while.

"Yes, Douglas. Dorothy was on Libra just before it was destroyed, and she barely managed to find her way back to Earth."

Nichol sucked in a breath, "I had no idea. She was injured?"

"Nothing substantial. Most of her damage was of another sort," the dark eyes turned to appraise Hilde, even as she spoke on another subject, "It has taken her a while to remember herself, so we should try not to alarm her."

Hilde knew that several soldiers who'd suffered mentally had been taken from her hospital to another specialized facility. It must have been Luxemburg.

"She's okay now?"

"Worried about me, Nicky?" Hilde heard the familiar nickname from a new direction, then saw the blonde girl walking in toward them as she continued, "Who is this?"

"Dorothy. My sister, Hilde." Nichol chose which question to answer, and Hilde felt like quite an interloper nonetheless as the tall girl, who was barely older than Hilde, comfortably settled herself against Nichol's chest. Her hands were caught up flat against Nichol's shirt, and she turned her face to study Hilde more specifically. Dorothy half-smiled in a dangerous way, and Hilde noticed that she wasn't embracing Nichol as much as using him to keep herself from falling over. He must have noticed as well, since only one hand rose to settle on her shoulder.

~*~

Nichol admired Hilde's perseverance as polite question after question volleyed her direction at the dinner table like a shower of nuclear missiles that all deliberately clouded their true intent. He tried to buffer what he could; however, Hilde reassured him with a fleeting smile around the edge of her soupspoon.

Dorothy had not come down for dinner, and his mother and Dorothy's seemed quite well distracted by the petite freedom fighter from the colonies. The juxtaposition of his childhood home and the curiosity of his newly discovered half-sister left him feeling half strangled nonetheless. He repeatedly pressed his napkin to his lips, knowing that the movement was more comforting as something to do with his hands rather than concealing the urge to nervously chew his lip.

He anxiously grabbed for the glass of wine that had been refilled once already, and used the opportunity to take a longer look at his mother.

She sat at the head of the table, something that had changed when Dorothy's father had been killed. Dorothy's mother sat at the opposite end, as she always had. The contrast of their coloring made each woman unique in her own beauty. Nichol's mother dark haired and sharp boned. Dorothy's mother blonde and round. She mirrored Nichol by reaching out with her heavily jeweled, round fingers and looked at the wine before tasting it again. Nichol set down his glass, and Mrs. Catalonia echoed the movement.

He almost smiled, except he caught his mother watching him. Hilde looked across the table with a questioning look. He reached for his napkin.

"I will call Bert to show you to your room, Hilde." His mother spoke in the manner letting everyone know that she was dismissing the dinner party, "I trust you will find everything you need, but ask if you find anything lacking." She sat straight to press her back full against the tall chair, "Nichol, it is good to see you again. If you would join me in the library?"

He had followed her into the library on many evenings after dinner. Watching the way her skirts pulled just above the ground as he kept his eyes carefully lowered. Even now, he knew the design of the carpeting along that hallway. The faded gold and red that almost seemed brown. How the pattern broke against a thick border before revealing the wooden planks underneath.

"I am glad that Hilde distracts you from your disgrace," she started to speak just as the library doors became visible ahead and to their left. She paused long enough to reach out and push in the door with t he brass knob, "But there is some matter of concern regarding your future. Have you given it any thought, Douglas?"

He decided then that whatever choices he had, staying at the Catalonia estate was not the most pleasant variable, "I thought I might see what work might need done on the colonies."

"The colonies?" She walked directly to the glass bottle of whiskey, his father's favorite indulgence that she'd continued, "Yes, I suppose they'd accept any pair of hands offered for their repair," The liquid poured over ice with a crackle missing in her tone, "You've been touched by your father's fever, I take it." When she turned to him, he saw the injury of her disappointment. The lines of her cheek pulled taut, "As has Dorothy. You children are bruised beyond repair. The two of you have a useless inheritance."

He fought the urge to embrace her, checking his balance and watching as she took another drink, "Is there anything I can do for you, before I leave?" He hated the sincerity of his words and way he felt his lingering desire for her approval sat so obviously in his every breath.

"You've done enough."

~*~

Hilde heard the knock at her door while she was busy unfolding her nightclothes. With Nichol obligated to his mother and the sun already set, Hilde had little to do but prepare for sleep.

She let her fingers admire the old wood as she pulled the door open, "Oh, hello."

"Mind if I come in?" Dorothy Catalonia's eyes were shadowed, skin colorless or grey betraying what Hilde understood about the other girl's illness.

"No," Hilde watched as Dorothy, barefoot and in a thin white gown, glanced around the room, which looked rather simple compared to the rest of the estate. As if anything important or of value had been just removed before Hilde was allowed to settle in.

"You're going to have to help Nichol escape, if you truly care for him." Dorothy started without preamble, "But this house will always haunt him, I can promise you that." Dorothy leaned against the near bedpost, wrapping one nearly translucent hand around it.

Hilde sat on the bed, unsure what to say. Dinner had been a test of her social graces, avoiding the questions seeking out insults or information. Dorothy's comments seemed sincere enough.

"We used to mock him awfully, about his father. His father was a disgrace." Dorothy gazed at Hilde pointedly, and she watched Dorothy's eyebrow go up, "But now that I see you. I understand that Nicky had more hope that I ever did. He's got connections to this new future. He has ties. He has you." The elevation of her voice raked against Hilde's skull, before settling back into a sudden monotone.

"My father was a disgrace too, you know," Dorothy continued, "But I have no where else to go."

Hilde listened, knowing that nothing was quite what it seemed in this house.

"They think I'm crazy, you see."

"Dorothy," Hilde tried, her fingers suddenly very cold.

"Yes?"

"Do you think you're crazy?"

"After a fashion," Dorothy paused, then laughed, "He's stupid, and he's not as strong as he thinks he is out there either. Take care of him, right?"

"I am his sister." Hilde said firmly.

Dorothy made her way for the door, opening it to stare into the hall and breathing another laugh, "His sister. I'll remember that."

~*~

Now

~*~

"I'm sorry, what's your cut off again for tonight?" He teased through an affectionate smile, "I think someone forgot to set a limit . . ."

Hilde felt better after she and Nichol secured a table for themselves in a back corner. They'd seen Relena Dorlian just long enough that they didn't have to worry about her looking for them again later. She'd learned that hostess habit of Relena's when Relena found her and Duo at a rather inopportune moment of their intimate exploration at a different social gathering. She flinched at the memory, and how it embarrassed her more now than it had at the time. Duo Maxwell had managed to quite make her immune to any concept of propriety when he wanted her to be with him, "I don't think another one is going to make me silly, Nicky." She helped herself to the glass the wandering waiter had offered.

"Is that the Lieutenant? Nichols, something or other."

Both Hilde and Nichol sat upright, and she saw a flash of panic on her brother's features as they surveyed the crowd. Two uniformed Preventers within hearing distance were looking their direction.

"Oh, perfect." Nichol furrowed his brow in pain, "Please don't let them come over here." He spun sideways and tried to hide his face with his hand, "Maybe if they think we're having an intimate conversation?"

Hilde glanced over to see the Preventers in question take a step closer, "Too late, brother. Want my drink?"

Nichol smile turned wry, "Yes, actually."

"Nichol? Ex-Lieutenant?" The taller officer had a birthmark creeping up his neck like a flush of embarrassment, but the tone he used to inquire was rooted in something closer to a school bully's taunt. Hilde narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah," Nichol faked a smile after finished a swallow of her quickly loaned drink, "Ryan Peterson, was it? I seem to remember you, what was it . . . reassignment to ground troops from Barge?"

"I never thanked you for that demotion. Demotion, but that's certainly a prettier word than dismissal . . . sir." Peterson crossed his arms, obviously taking strength from the snickers of his companion.

"Of course, my dismissal was not for a lack of my talents," He shared a pointed look, "But rather an excessive devotion to duty." Nichol took another casual drink, and she watch him control his fingers with a deep rooted anger. Hilde couldn't approve of her brother baiting the Preventer, but she certainly didn't have to worry about Nichol holding his own against the conversational insults. It was one thing his mother had taught him: how to need thickened skin, and against anyone but her, Nichol certainly knew how to retaliate. A co-mingling of truth and lies, so subconscious he didn't even have to think before knowing what to say.

"I suppose you thought you were too good to wear this uniform, but . . . they didn't let you, did they?" The other Preventer also crossed his arms.

Nichol put on a sneer, disguised as a smile, "Useless uniform."

Hilde carefully put her hand on his forearm, and was able to feel the increasing warmth even where his wrist met the edge of his suit sleeve, "I'm sorry fellows, but perhaps you wouldn't mind?" She tipped her head away from the table.

"Do I know you?" The second Preventer asked, more politely curious.

"Hey, what's going on?"

A new voice appeared, and suddenly her back corner table had four Preventers circling it, although she felt significantly more at ease with the additional two. The one who spoke was Trowa Barton, who had walked up just then with Heero Yuy who watched with only a silent acknowledging tip of his head. Trowa was attractive enough to cause a slight emotional sputter in her stomach.

"Nothing, sir," Peterson made a slight formal acknowledgement before taking his leave.

"Great, Barton, I didn't need a rescue," she heard Nichol's scowl even as she smiled quite cheekily at Trowa, unable to stop admiring his pretty green eyes and the curve of his cheek. She's always admired Trowa's appearance quite unashamedly, "You know that it's stuff like that," Nichol's frustration stole his ability to communicate clearly, and she fought back a laugh now that she didn't feel as protective, "People like that, well, that's why I'm not interested in your so-called peace keeping unit."

"Right," Trowa said simply, "You know the offer is open, so I'm not going to ask. I simply came over because Dorothy's here and she asked about you."

Nichol stopped trying to talk, and didn't say anything.

~*~

Then

~*~

After taking their leave of the Catalonia estate, Nichol felt immediate relief. Hilde mentioned his mother a few times, politely waiting to see if he wanted to talk about it, which he didn't, and then they found an affordable shuttle to the main colony in the L-2 region. For Hilde it was going home, and he suspected that her home would be significantly more welcoming.

Unlike his feeling of lacking purpose and direction, Hilde started to make plans for a scrap yard, insisting that her minimal experience working at one enabled her to start one of her own.

"Metal is important, scrap is important. Any bit can be reshaped, reused and is the essential element of colony survival when it comes down to it. And this trade would give me a great connection with the inter-colony and Earth trade systems, open communication and such."

He listened to her talk and basked in her enthusiasm; although, nothing he knew could have prepared him for the work she had in mind for him. And her immediate business success. People swarmed to her like a lighthouse to guide the colonists around the rocks that might set them back. Her opinion monopolized the growth of her colony, and he didn't even need to find an excuse to stay with her.

"Come over for dinner and I'll show you the blueprints I have for revising the back rooms into a large, more open storage area. We could fit an entire shuttle in there, if we wanted to build one." Hilde's invitations were constant and warm, even though he still looked at the stars with apprehension. Even after his time in the colonies and on Barge, Nichol knew he'd never appreciate the night sky unless he was back on Earth.

His apartment was not far from where she made her home at the junkyard, so he decided to walk. The unlocked gate wasn't unusual, but caused him to pause long enough to notice that almost every light in Hilde's place was turned on, which was unlike her colonist frugal upbringing about resources. He hadn't heard of any recent trouble in their neighborhood, but even though the war was over, people were not all to be trusted.

He shuffled off the main walkway up to her front door and stepped around to see in the window.

"Get out of the bushes, Nicky, I'm alright." Hilde's chipper voice called out as she opened the front door and peered out at him, "You've gotten rusty in the stealth department." As he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and dusted bush leaves off his shirt with the other, Nichol noticed her eye twitch involuntarily, putting him back on guard.

"What is it?" He asked, wondering how comfortable he'd become to get used to living without a handgun. Used to living without a uniform. His eyes adjusted to the lighting of Hilde's home, and he got his first good look at her guests.

Three. Three of the Gundam Pilots. He recognized Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy from the hospital, when Hilde talked Heero out of shooting the OZ traitor. And as for OZ traitors, the third ex-pilot was Trowa Barton. The instinctive dislike he felt at the very sight of the slim man let his face betray every emotion.

"Uh, you know Heero, Duo and, this is Trowa."

"Why are you here?" He addressed his question to Duo, feeling somewhat more comfortable with the most smiley of the three interlopers. Duo was not a stranger to the L-2 colonies and had visited before. Hilde had frequent panic attacks that he would show up unexpected and when her home was a mess.

"Part pleasure, all business." Duo Maxwell could have charmed an angry lion with his personality alone, and Nichol benefited from the offering of comfort. All three men wore Preventers uniforms, and he half wondered if they were going to arrest him.

Hilde tried to get them all into seats, offered them drink, brought them drinks when they all declined and seemed unable to stay stationary for long. Nichol wished he had her excuse for movement and felt quite pinned by the other three's silent appraisal.

"What do you want?" He asked again, trying to be polite for Hilde's sake since she still regarded those original Gundam terrorists as her heroes. Nichol's opinion of them was a little less flattering.

"We've actually come in order to ask you, and your sister, if you would be interested in joining the President's new Preventer task force." Trowa Barton answered, he sat on a stool at the bar separating the living room from the kitchen, next to Heero.

"You mean after the incident with Dekim Barton," Nichol took some pleasure in saying the last name, "the government found it important to shape up their only line of defense?"

"And it is being shaped up, as you put it," Trowa didn't sound particularly eager to convince anyone of anything, "For one thing, they've agreed to reconsider the restrictions on participation to include a variety of talents and interests."

"Um, like traitors?" Nichol asked, slouching further into the easy chair.

"Yes, in some cases." Trowa nodded, his lack of emotion only deepening Nichol's scowl.

"What kind of invitation is this? Who sent you?" Nichol asked, tempering his voice best he could. Duo Maxwell seemed to want to take over the conversation and kept being silence by quick looks from Heero Yuy.

Trowa glanced over his shoulder to where Nichol took a new look at his sister's expression that seemed one of desperate uncertainty. "Hilde?" He asked, unable to get an answer from anyone.

"I-I . . ."

"Someone tell him." Duo Maxwell fumed.

To his surprise, it was Heero Yuy that spoke first, "The Preventers have been trying to recruit Hilde Schbeiker. She said she wouldn't consider joining unless you were offered a position."

"What?" He asked, disbelieving, "Why would the Preventers bother Hilde? Her experience, sure, but it's nothing that you can't do without. Why drag her in this political game?"

"Because I have connections to colony activists that haven't been satisfied with the outcome of the war. They want to use me for eyes and ears." Hilde said, keeping back in the shadow of the wall and not looking at him.

"So you want her to work undercover and yet you three just walk in here and anyone can see?" Nichol leaned forward in his seat, "That doesn't seem very smart to me."

"Officially," Duo said, "We're recruiting you."

"I don't like this." Nichol shook his head, "And I don't particularly want to work with you people, either. Anyone would know that Hilde wasn't a spy . . . " He found their reactions odd. Barton blank, Maxwell intent, Yuy almost looked approving.

"Oh." He paused, feeling his temper immediately dropping, "Well, I don't know what clue you were looking for, but we can just stop this conversation now." Nichol saw Hilde meet his eyes with a strange pride. "If you boys have had me on surveillance you should know I'm not in the least interested in joining . . . or destroying your damn little unit. Or the world."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to take your word for it." Duo smiled, more genuinely, "Honestly, though, you weren't demonstrating any threat. You're just one of the few OZ officers that isn't connected to us or in prison. With your history of . . ."

"Enough," Nichol felt suddenly weary, "Tell me that recruiting Hilde was a ploy and I might consider letting you leave here uninjured."

"Well, we did ask her . . ." Duo said playfully ducking around the counter. Nichol had to wonder about the intentions of the boy toward his sister.

"But I said, 'no'!" Hilde pushed him back with a snap of the kitchen towel.

"Then I asked her to go to the Christmas party on Earth with me," Duo smiled lopsidedly, "She agreed to that one."

"I said 'maybe'," her feeble retort annoyed Nichol who shook his head from the intensity of his previous emotion.

"Duo's going to stay here for a while." Trowa continued, and Nichol wondered if his old rival felt just as uncomfortable that after all their adversity they essentially ended up on the same side, "He knows L-2 best and we are suspicious of some parties last scene in this cluster."

"You boys need to shape that unit up. Haven't they heard of surveillance?" Nichol found his dark humor.

"That's what I asked," Heero had spoken, and Nichol regarded him with an old soldier's curiosity. He wondered what motivated them to keep following the path of a weapon, whether in war or in peacetime. Their part essentially was the same. Duo Maxwell obviously felt a keen call of duty and adventure. Barton probably didn't have anything better to do than righteously patrol the universe. But Nichol thought Heero Yuy looked a little rough on the edge, as if he needed a time of peace as much as Nichol himself did.

"Stop it!" Hilde cried out, blushing furiously as Duo tried flirting and wrapping his arms around her to taste whatever she was preparing for dinner. At the same time, Trowa Barton officially dismissed himself and Heero Yuy. Heero paused in the doorway, and turned his chin to glance back inside when reaching out to close the door.

Nichol thought it noteworthy that the young man seemed to want one more appreciative glance at Hilde Schbeiker. Heero caught Nichol watching him and matched his gaze for a moment before leaving.

~*~

Now

~*~

Dorothy leaned against Nichol's arm her fingers laced over his shoulder. Hilde watched as the tall girl relaxed into him and her breathing slowed almost to the point of sleeping. A pleasant greeting was the most either of them had spoken to each other. Hilde wondered why Dorothy was there, and through conversation with Trowa she learned of Dorothy's connection to the Sank Kingdom and thereby, Relena.

"Relena does like to collect the misfits of the galaxy," Hilde muttered to herself, watching where the Ambassador was dancing with Heero Yuy. The timing of his movements were spun methodically to the tempo of the instruments in the far corner of the hall. His stiff precision was a form of grace and yet it seemed misplaced with the more fluid rhythm of the ex- Queen who diplomatically appeared to have surrendered the lead of the dance to the standard of social norms.

"She's thoughtful," Trowa nodded, "And thorough in that she did not forget Dorothy." He glanced over at the blonde girl and a new blankness entered the thoughts of his face as if he was slipping into the past and things often forgotten until circumstances brought out deeper relevance.

Heero and Relena paused next to them, as a young blond man cut in to take a dance from the girl who never left the dance floor. Heero watched after them for a moment, then noticing Trowa and the others put his hands into his pockets and walked over to stand near Hilde's ear that Trowa wasn't using.

Hilde tapped her foot with a new nervousness and shaking her head, caught a glimpse of Nichol looking at her and with an amused twist to his lip.

"It's stuffy," Heero said, with the clipped tongue of someone who only imitated small talk.

Hilde nodded once, watching as the young blond man, Quatre Winner, if she remembered his name correctly, dipped the Ambassador until they both were caught up in laughter. Quatre hardly let Relena catch her breath before starting her around the floor again with well-tempered speed and familiar grace. Other couples parting out of their way as if their path together was pre-orchestrated. Hilde's thoughts likewise started to wind and wander.

"It's easier if you keep moving," Heero tried again.

She felt very short between the two ex-Gundam Pilots. But it was a comforting place to be, even as she felt a rush of alcoholic warmth flaring up her neck and down into the folds of her borrowed dress.

"Have you danced tonight?" The Asian man tipped his chin to glance down sharply at her, and Hilde took in a breath, "No."

She saw an expression on his face that uncannily reminded her of Relena, one that seemed almost caught up in an old dream from a story remembered from the nursery that promised a happy future. Hilde wondered how often that look slipped across the rigid features of the perfect soldier and a new interest took hold of her that she had never considered letting take root before.

Freezing for a moment, Hilde glanced over at Nichol, feeling as if she needed his approval. She hadn't danced with anyone so far that night. And the year before, she'd only danced with Duo. Duo Maxwell who was suspiciously absent, and she was still too frustrated to ask why no one else had commented. And too reluctant to ask herself.

He offered her a hand, his wrist still youthfully thin, but strong as it reached out from the aristocratic cuff. Hilde apparently had not been the only person that Relena had dressed that evening.

"You're brother shouldn't have to ask you," Heero led her out with enough of a pull that she felt quite removed from where she'd been standing in simple conversation with Trowa before, "And I remember that you liked to dance and dance well."

"Duo likes to show off. It was mostly him," Hilde made effort to find her brother and the others from over Heero's shoulder. She caught the clearest glimpse of Dorothy's pale face lifted away from Nichol's dark figure and slightly smiling at them. The military precision of his movements were to be expected, she'd watched them long enough that evening. But it seemed to melt in his wrists and in the way his fingers gently touched her skin.

They didn't speak as Hilde felt struck with a sudden bashfulness and doubt. Duo made everything easy, easy to love him and easy to feel betrayed by him when everyone else loved him too. He was never so reserved. Trowa and her brother had their own ways of being reserved. Distrusting and distant mingled with a frankness and inner warmth. She knew how to bring them out and make them comfortable. She'd never given Heero Yuy much thought, so in their relative solitude her tongue felt trapped between casual yapping and absolute silence.

Why couldn't she just feel grateful? When in truth, he made her suddenly feel very unplugged.

She glanced up to catch him watching her with a gentle perplexity, not unlike the way he was holding her.

"I like your hair." He said at last, and as curtly as he had commented on the atmosphere of the room.

The quiet broken, Hilde felt a laugh rush up that she could hardly contain it as it shook her full length in one rapid, muffled burst. He lost step and Hilde found herself propelling them both around in a loop that nearly had them barreling into a couple of older diplomats that sparkled with extra jewelry.

"Oh. Thank you." She hiccupped, feebly trying to cover her mouth with a hand that she'd freed to partially hide her smile. He was trying rather hard, and she fought back laughing. "I'm sorry." She wheezed, "I just spent so much of my time trying to be witty and brilliant last year, that I guess I just need to relax. This is now."

"This is now." Heero repeated dumbly with a slight nod, looking rather mystified.

~*~

Nichol watched with mild amusement as the Asian Preventer hero offer to dance with his sister. He still found it amusing as they waltzed around just off beat, Hilde with her eyes on her feet and Heero staring blankly at the crown of her head. That changed when he realized he was alone with Trowa Barton, who was not his favorite person and Dorothy started to stir from where she had collapsed against him.

"Awake, Dotty?" He asked, and took her attempt at a low-throated purr as confirmation, "My left side is falling asleep, perhaps you'd like to dance?"

Dorothy pulled herself back and stretched luxuriously with her slim, pale arms in the air lifting the folds of her yellow dress and she shook out her hair, "I think I could."

"Great," Nichol folded his arms, flexing the left one cautiously, "Ask Barton over here. He looks right bored watching everyone else." The reddish-brown hair of the young man flipped so that Nichol had a brief glimpse of alarm in both green eyes. "You can dance," Nichol said, matter- of-factly.

"Yes, if you'd like," The tall boy acquiesced to Dorothy who seemed puzzled but not dismayed. Both reactions answering a question for Nichol.

"Go. Go." Nichol waved them away, feeling rather charitable.

This was now.

He used the new freedom to slip out a side door and walk outside into the cooler night air. The ballroom was stuffy if one stood still for too long. No one else was around to interrupt his solitude, even the orchestra music was muffled letting him here the crickets and night sounds of Earth.

Nichol braced his arms against the cool stone rail and closed his eyes for a moment. Letting his other senses benefit from the sensations of evening without the distraction of sight. Hearing the leaves and feeling the chill of the night breeze. Tasting the slight damp from the not too distant ocean. The smell of salt.

Bending forward he rested his crossed arms against the rail and looking over the dark shadowed field he could see the moonlight reflecting off the water now. Water that only showed its surface and none of the secrets deep in the dark. Moonlight and starlight.

Looking up, he saw the night sky that he remembered best.

This was now.

Tomorrow, everything else, would have to sort itself out--some other time.