Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Other disclaimer: This is officially AU. Thank you, Frozen Teardrop.
"—Answer." Zechs' voice was tense and impatient. Evenly spaced in his office stood his wife at his left and Lieutenant Colonel Prichard and General Yuy, both at parade-rest opposite him, as the taller man in civilian clothes lurked quietly in the back.
"Well," Trowa responded, unmoved by the elder man's temper, "the preliminary investigation shows the explosive device to be crude, honestly."
Zechs looked still more annoyed. "He didn't have access to supplies?"
"It wasn't that. We all know there are always plenty of supplies on hand for explosives, especially in an industrial colony like this one. I believe this shows his weak intelligence and lack of planning more than anything." Trowa shifted only slightly as his tone changed. "Which raises a new problem: Was he planning to kill the Foreign Minister or was he simply taking a target of opportunity which would wreak the most havoc?"
The news did nothing for Prichard's mood. She'd already been feeling frustrated and slightly embarrassed at what had happened on her watch. "You're saying this wasn't an act of war?"
"Oh, no. Not just that." The Chief Commander stood to his full height and strode heavily around the desk so he could rest his weight where he looked General Yuy directly in the eye as he scolded the Lieutenant Colonel. "He's saying she was nearly killed by an idiot."
Heero glared back, refusing to show the insecurity his commander hoped to see. "Don't be selfish, Zechs," he warned.
That only agitated the ranking officer. "Selfish? I'm selfish you say? When's the last time I asked you a favor, Yuy?"
"Zechs," Lucrezia warned from behind him with a soft voice that seemed a merge of a hiss and a coo to calm him.
"What was it that was so important today?" The Chief continued, barely taking notice of his wife's precaution. "An inspection? Or shall we discuss the truth of the selfishness that actually almost killed the Foreign Minister?"
Before Prichard could take a moment to register the tone, both Trowa and Lucrezia stepped toward her, gesturing abstractly toward the exit, but neither had a chance to send her on her way when the door was pushed in by a very tired Foreign Minister. Her reading glasses had been haphazardly pressed up into her now disheveled and mussy hair, all caked with red dust and ash, leaving a clear view of her puffy eyes and streaked makeup. Prichard looked back, but Heero didn't budge. His eyes bore into the Chief with a renewed intensity that was almost unsettling to the young Colonel. Relena faltered slightly, but she took a quick survey of the office and marched right to the Chief Commander and set herself against him, all but bodily pushing aside the General at her back. Her closeness engulfed Heero in a bouquet of soft, floral perfume and hair products, intermixed with explosives and hot metal that had seared itself into her essence.
He swallowed hard but didn't immediately budge.
"Give us the room," the stateswoman hissed without looking back.
Colonel Prichard was slightly surprised when Heero responded to the foreigner's command by turning on his heel without debate. She started to follow, but Wind's voice called out still more forcefully.
"Hold."
Lydia wasn't familiar with the glint in her lover's eye as he glared past her at the exit, but it was laced with annoyance.
Wind turned his attention on Minister Marks. "I'll be giving the orders on this planet and you won't forget it."
She pressed her lips together with a hint of rage and tugged at the end of her sleeve where the hem met her wrist.
The Chief continued. "I'll gather by your stride that you're here more for business than for pleasure. I'm sure General Yuy will be enlightened by whatever you've come to say."
She swallowed, folding her hands in front of her, and raised her head. "I saw him."
Colonel Prichard took half a step forward in surprise. Heero turned very slowly, watching the blonde woman from the corner of his eye.
"The man who tried to kill me," she added. "I saw him."
"Are you sure?" Wind pressed. He leaned back on the desk, supporting his weight on the palms of his hands as he listened.
Relena raised one brow. "I've been doing this for nearly twenty years. Don't you think I know a remote detonator when I see one?" She pressed two fingers her temple and closed her eyes. "Don't tell me you haven't brought yourself to question how I was able to respond before the explosion. My daughter might have been killed—" She started to say more, but her voice trailed off.
Lydia straightened while watching the exchange. It slowly occurred to her that she might have somehow underestimated the intelligence of the Foreign Minister without realizing she'd prejudiced herself. She wondered if maybe Heero might have known that Marks was so aware of her situations and surrounding, thus explaining his passing the assignment on, but then there had been no reason to suspect he'd ever met the politician before. Wind's familial tone with the woman brought into play a whole new world of questions but none really implied that Heero had had dealings with her. Perhaps she had a reputation the Colonel was not otherwise privy to?
"What details do you remember?" The Commander asked, seemingly taking her observations quite seriously.
The stateswoman sighed. "There's a restaurant Port Victoria. Where we'd landed."
"A bar. Yes."
Prichard could sense something in the room begin to give as the two exchanged words. The Chief's tension lifted as years and miles melted away in her presence. The two really had been much closer friends than she might have realized.
Relena shook her head lightly. "He was standing there, smoking. Loitering, really. I couldn't see his eyes," she shrugged. "He had brown hair and he was wearing a green jacket."
Wind groaned and leaned back. "That's not much help, Relena," he said. "That could just as well describe Heero Yuy."
Prichard caught the glance the Chief threw over the Minister's shoulder to General Yuy, who'd somehow managed to gain another half a pace of space between himself and the stranger without being noticed. The blond man was met with a sudden, but threatening scowl.
Relena started. "It hasn't been that long," she scoffed. "Don't you think I would know if it—" She stopped herself in the middle of her argument and shook her head. "It wasn't Heero."
Something about the way Relena had said the name set Lydia's heart racing. It sounded only a little more angry or bitter from any other time she'd heard it. She wondered if the anger in the diplomat's voice could be explained by the active situation, but that explanation failed to fit for several reasons. Something about the word left her feeling suddenly quite vulnerable in the other woman's vicinity. It felt of something else on the blonde woman's lips—something secret and intimate.
But wouldn't he have told her if he knew the former Queen?
Wind let slip half an amused grin, but quickly suppressed it as he turned his eyes directly on Lydia. She felt bare, wondering if he could see her insecurity or if he was going to have another go at her for not predicting or managing the attack to his standards. Prichard released the breath she'd been holding when he finally looked back at the foreigner.
"I would know him if I saw him, again," she heard Relena continue.
"I'd hope." The Chief's voice dripped of sarcasm.
"The man from the restaurant," she clarified.
"Well I can't much have you wandering the streets all day, looking for the man who tried to kill you, now can I?" Chief Wind leaned forward with a trace of mischief in his eyes. "Of course, you're over that pastime, now, aren't you?" He grumbled the additional comment as he circled the desk. "It turned out so great for you last time." He slumped into his chair, shooting her a sarcastic glare.
Relena frowned.
Lydia was momentarily distracted by a shift in General Noin's movement. She and Wind exchanged glances and his expression softened with what resembled a touch of shame.
The Commander sat back up, eyeing Heero and Trowa, seemingly in thought. "Where's Wufei?"
Relena crossed her arms in front of her as though she'd dominate the conversation with her stubborn stance. "It took a great deal more effort than it was worth, but I finally convinced him to board a shuttle off of this rock."
Zechs looked irritated. "What?"
"There are things I need him to handle for me." She said. "He'll be back in a few days."
"Is this the same Wufei?" Again, Wind's comments affirmed the closeness of his relationship with the Foreign Minister still more. Why wouldn't he have been forthcoming about such a relationship before this closed-door meeting?
The blonde stretched her neck, slightly, and pursed her lips. "I can be persuasive."
"That's not wise," the Commander argued.
"Being persuasive?" Relena raised her eyebrows with feminine smugness.
"That either," the host responded, unprovoked by her attitude. "However, I'm referring to sending away the one you trust."
"Yes, well—he didn't like it much, either," she said.
Wind tapped his fingertips on the desk, training his attention on her. "You're such a pretty brat, sometimes."
Prichard's jaw slacked. Who calls a foreign diplomat a brat?! Chief could be unorthodox, but that was flat out degrading. Relena, however, took the remark calmly, offering him no visible response.
"You've gotten used to winning arguments, Relena," he added. "You'll find yourself back out of the habit before you leave my world."
"I wouldn't count on it," she snipped.
"You should be at the hospital," he scolded, ending the previous argument.
Relena sighed.
"Fourteen stitches and a sprained ankle. She's going to want her mother there when she wakes up, you know." Chief Wind's face softened when he looked down on her, this time.
The Minister went to move away, but he spoke, again.
"You should be more careful when you throw your children off of a forty foot landing." The Chief gave her another one of his rare, teasing grins.
"I wouldn't have to," she chided in a renewed spiteful tone, "if your men were doing their job."
Lydia stole another glance at Heero, still at the stateswoman's shoulder. She knew instinctively that the comment reflected more on his choices than her own, somehow, but he remained composed—if not made of granite.
The blond man smiled openly and shook his head.
"What's so funny?" She asked on instinct.
Wind chuckled. "Here we are, again. So far from home. And there you stand, wishing a man dead." He leaned back in his seat and gave her a confident stare. "I'm just glad it isn't me this time."
The blonde woman's face darkened with indignation. "That's not true."
"Who do you think you're going to lie to, little princess?" He said in an uncharacteristically easy sarcasm. "I know your face better than any man alive, Knee-high. Well," he corrected, "almost any man."
Relena marched toward the door, carefully avoiding eye contact with any of Wind's the other subordinates.
"We're going to see a lot of the back of your head aren't we?" Wind called out, stopping her at the exit. "Not one for being read?"
She threw a warning glance back at him, but said nothing.
Every hint of humor melted away from the Chief's face. "Yuy."
Relena's lips parted but she neither spoke nor moved to leave.
"You went back on our agreement," Wind continued in a resentful and cryptic tone as he rose to his feet. "And it would seem that my sister has sent away the one man she trusted to protect her. It's only fitting, then, that she's stuck with the one that I trust. The Colonel will assist you in keeping after the other two guests."
Heero straightened under his focus. Whatever agreement the two had made, Heero seemed to understand, and made no argument or defense.
"That said, if I see you so far as three feet away from my sister, again, for the remainder of her stay," the Commander paused, emphasizing each word of the threat. "I swear to God, I will kill you this time."
There it was. Sister.
Knee-high.
Of course, Lydia realized in a rush. "Zechs Marquise" Heero would call him. It wasn't sinister, dry humor. He meant it. Their Chief Commander, the most powerful man on Mars, was the Zechs Marquise of Earth. He was the bloodchild of the Peacecraft collapse, bent on revenge. Milliardo Peacecraft had survived the war. He was—he was the head of the Martian state.
And Heero knew.
Lydia had known that the red planet became a place for all sorts to come away and start anew, and she understood how that was an appeal to former soldiers of all ranks, but she hadn't really considered the possibility that if the would-be-dictator, Milliardo Peacecraft, had survived the Eve's War, that would be where he'd find his redemption. Of course, the fact that he had not only founded the government on the planet, but his ability to rise to the highest position despite of the handicaps he'd placed, seemed fitting when she considered it. He was bred to take and wield power. Crown prince of the Cinq Kingdom, history recorded him as holding the highest positions in two of the major factions of the great military conflict that had burned and raged fifteen years prior.
Questions began to rise to her consciousness about how much he could be trusted, weighing Heero's faith in him and the constitution he'd helped write against what she had been taught about him in her formal education, but before she could give the matter further thought, Relena spoke up, again.
"I don't need a babysitter," the diplomat argued. The coldness of the tone startled Prichard.
"I'll ignore the foolishness of that opinion in your given circumstance and remind you that it isn't your choice," Wind answered.
Relena turned and stormed from the room. Heero seemed equally bitter when he followed her out.
Lydia let out a long breath before she realized that Chief Wind was glaring at her venomously.
She looked at him, wide eyed.
"Get the hell out," he growled at her, ignoring Trowa and Noin who were still silently at holding up the walls on each end of the room.
Lydia moved without hesitation, doing everything in her power to maintain her stoic posture as she fled.
