Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

Relena looked wordlessly at the door latch for some time before pressing her thumb to it. Like every other door programmed to specific persons' admittance, the microcomputer automatically analyzed her genetic coding and released the lock, allowing her into the family suite. Having made the brief trip from the hospital to her temporary lodging in complete silence, her mind half expected the door to slam behind her when she stepped inside, but she was disappointed. There was a soft noise as the paint coated-metal slapped into contact with a man's calloused hand behind her. Her heart sank. She heard him slowly allow the door to finally fall shut as he followed her in. The reminder grounded her scattered self awareness and intuitive pondering back into the discomfort that had triggered them in the first place.

Heero Yuy.

She sighed. "I'm sure the place has been cleared, but you might want to—"

The Foreign Minister's voice trailed off and she wondered if she might appear to be micromanaging a man she knew was an expert in his field. She found herself feeling unsure if her words might imply a disrespect or distrust in him and his subordinates. She knew the tension didn't need stoked. "I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job," she corrected in an abrupt but weakening tone.

He let out a small, curt sound and moved past her to review his team's previous work.

Pushing thoughts of him aside, Relena was grateful for the work on Mars. She knew that her career couldn't afford her such a long trip from home for family visits, so having business with her brother at the end of the long road was a pleasant perk. It had only taken her ten years to come this far. Because of the business, however, she'd been forced to leave her daughter and husband at the hospital to get settled in and finish preparations for her first speaking commitment.

The Minister lowered her head as guilt for her daughter's injuries washed over her. Her hair clouded her face in shadow. "I shouldn't have brought her here," she pondered aloud. "Six months is such a long time for a girl, and I—" The voice tapered off with the hanging consideration, evading a conclusion.

"No one predicted this," the General finally said, continuing his inspection. "It's not your fault."

She found a part of herself irritated by the sound of his voice even as he tried, inexplicably, to offer her comfort. Relena straightened to a regal posture, staring intently into the darkness outside. "Have you finished in the kitchen? It's been a long day. I could use a drink."

He was already scanning the open items in the room and shuffling through the drawers and cabinets. Zechs had seen that the apartment was fully stocked for the planned several week stay, as to avoid Relena having to spend any more time hunting down necessities or even some luxuries than was entirely necessary.

Without a direct signal of any kind, he moved into the dining and living areas in an intentionally wide arc so she could move to the counters he'd inspected without ever crossing his path.

Relena quietly took down a small glass from a shelf above and uncorked the wine. She inhaled the scent of blackberry and plum as she let the drink breathe. The blonde then moved across the small dining area and leaned into the window frame where she could see the sky. Letting out a long sigh, she tried futilely to release the stress of the day.

Relena didn't notice that Heero had turned his attention back onto her as he went about his tasks. She stilled herself and took in the quiet scene of the Milky Way. The Mars Colony land extending far beyond the immediate region of Valhalla had been built into a state-of-the-art atmosphere bubble, built by the Winner Foundation. The clarion alloy was the most translucent version to date and very nearly mimicked the clearest parts of Earth's own natural sky. Since the Martian day was similar in length to that of an Earth day, there was no need to make further visual alterations to the pseudo-atmosphere. For the purpose of terraforming the land, however, the Winners had gone through beyond previous protocol in installing transparent wiring throughout, which would emit an additional artificial sunlight, complete with a healthy form of UV radiation for the soil, the crops, and even the needs of the people. The work, though apparently entirely philanthropic as far as the media and the masses were concerned, had been experimental and had created the first prototype of its kind, allowing the Foundation to begin a new age of production in which they would be able to manufacture better atmospheres for each of the colonies closer to the Earth, and eventually any tertiary colonies that might be built, later on and further away from home.

Relena frowned, studying her glass as she took another sip.

The sky above her, so clearly visible, seemed familiar, and yet there were things that were still just out of place. Unfortunately, with the stress of the day she'd had, the Foreign Minister didn't have any mental energy left to recall the constellations she'd known her whole life. She was disappointed that she couldn't contrast the arrangements she saw from what she had known to find herself on in the map of the universe.

"Darlian?"

Relena turned her attention to Heero, who stood at a second window near the couch. It had been years since anyone had even mistakenly called her by one of her maiden names, but she it still felt right on his lips.

Leland wouldn't notice.

His eyes were like flint sparking as her own gaze collided with his. The woman had maneuvered around it for hours, but permanent avoidance was impossible. Relena gathered her strength and stared into the heart of the tempest, feigning the posture of a woman unfazed.

Heero turned back to the night as she had been doing moment before barely gesturing with an upturned, open arm, bidding her come. Relena hesitantly closed the gap between them. As she came to a stop at his side she felt him move back and around her, leaning in so his cheek just brushed her ear.

"You see the clock tower rising from the port?"

She nodded, still unable to really say or think much beyond his proximity.

"The stars form a triangle just up and to the right. Do you see?"

She shook her head, again, more slowly.

"Those are Denebola, Chertan, and Zosma. It's the constellation of Leo."

Relena lifted her chin, beginning to recognize the shape of the lion.

The scent of his skin and the soft timber of his voice, aged but still his own, distracted her from the very thing he was trying to draw her attention to. "Just left of center, you can see the grey one."

It took another long moment for her to push aside the memories long enough to register the act of kindness. "Is that—?"

"Earth," he answered as he finally pulled up and away from her skin.

The Minister breathed freely, dizzy but grateful to having her personal space returned. "It's dimmer than I'd imagined."

He grunted lightly, and went on examining the communications devices and monitors. "Earth absorbs a lot of energy from the sun. It's far more efficient than the other planets, in that sense. Growing its own flourishing ecosystem takes a toll on how much light it reflects."

Relena could feel a familiar ache in her chest. "It's not nearly as beautiful as it was in my early days."

"You're wrong," he answered as he stopped to look at her. "Nothing has changed. You've only moved further away. Distance distorts perspective."

Minister Marks turned in time to see him move on into her bedroom. "We haven't unpacked," she said, realizing only after she'd said it that it wouldn't matter to him. It meant he would have to go through her bags, and what the difference would be between him going through her packed bags and going through her neatly organized drawers she wasn't very clear on, but the thought seemed to give her a light sense of embarrassment.

Relena gave him several minutes before she moved to the door. He was standing over one open case, apparently lost in thought as he stared blankly at the cover of a book.

The Prince, by Niccolò Machiavelli

"She has unique interests," Relena explained out of habit.

"Hn." He put the book back and closed the satchel. Before the Foreign Minister could comment further, Heero grabbed the full set of purple luggage and carried it past her toward the next room.

"You don't—" she started to argue, but he silenced her with a sidelong glance.

She cleared her throat and moved into the room he'd left, taking in the smell and the feel of it. She knew she had work to do and there was no way she would be able to focus with the door open. "I'm going to be busy," she called out without any response. Her whole body relaxed when the latch clicked shut between them.

She glanced at the clock. It had only been twenty-eight minutes since their arrival. Relena rubbed her forehead. This was going to be a very, very long trip.

Heero settled himself into the windowsill, studying the cityscape around them as the hours trudged by.

His trance was finally broken by the sound of the locks releasing to allow a second party entry. Lydia stepped in first, scanning the room and leveling her stare on him. On a silent cue, they simultaneously turned away. He returned to his meditation as she turned to take Juliet's personal effects from Leland, offering them a welcoming gesture.

Juliet negotiated her way past the soldier, managing her own weight on a bandaged leg and a set of crutches. Lydia offered her support one last time, but the girl laughed it off and moved toward the inner wall of the suite.

"You're wonderful with kids," Leland smiled as he closed the door.

Prichard looked right at him and offered a calculated grin in response. "It's nothing," she answered. "She's good company."

Leland went on with the banter and Heero snuck a glance in his direction only to find himself facing the object of discussion.

Yuy stared for longer than was his habit as she stubbornly worked her injured body toward him. He'd seen her in the flourescent light of the hospital through the open shades of the window, but then her eyes had been closed and her hair pulled back. Now she came into view and he felt himself falling through time, looking at the spitting image of a young Relena Peacecraft.

Her aquamarine stare only jumped to his for a moment as she pushed her injured body forward, but it gave him more of a start than he had anticipated.

She hobbled to a stop well within arm's reach of him and stood her crutches together at her side so as to balance herself against them. "What are you staring at?" She smiled without bothering with the introductions. Truly, his expression could not have been more blanched if he had seen an actual ghost.

He pointedly ignored her at first, but she tilted her head up and locked her gaze on him. "My name is—" She hesitated only slightly when his eyes met hers. The girl knew her manners but the intensity of the stranger's glare was more unsettling than she had expected. "My name is Juliet Marks." She flourished her hand forward, offering him her grasp. "What's yours?"

Heero gaped at her for several seconds. Her golden hair hung straight and long and her eyes were alive, innocent, and compelling. She had the face, he might think, of an angel. A child ghost from his own past, and he wasn't sure he could bring himself to break the spell.

The General's arm moved with a mind of its own, taking her hand in his. "Heero Yuy," he answered.

"Nice to meet you, Heero." She tilted her head and smiled.

It was familiar. Safe.

The General's mind went blank for a moment before he withdrew himself and turned his nose up and away, hiding his thoughts back in the night.

Juliet heard Lydia calling a comment about Heero's lack of a sunny disposition and something about his not intending to bite her, but Leland quickly regained control of that conversation so he could continue to drone on behind her. The girl gave a passive gesture of understanding while still watching Heero with a sort of rapt curiosity.

"You knew my mom, then?"

His eyes darted back to hers quickly and disapprovingly. "No," he lied.

She smirked. "They says it's a Peacecraft thing. Apparently we all look alike going back some hundred and fifty years or so."

He looked back down at the street below. "Your uncle tell you that?"

"No one's supposed to know about my uncle," she answered. She had been given strict instructions to keep the family's surviving members a secret, even more so in Valhalla, but she inferred that his mention of it put him on the short exception list. "He died many years ago," she added, creating moving quotation marks with two fingers on each of her hands.

Heero gave no indication that he'd be explaining himself.

"He doesn't really talk to me, anyway," she went on. "When Mom forces him to video chat with me he just asks me questions he think I can't answer. 'Who's Pythagoras?' 'What's the density of Gundanium alloy?' 'Who's your real father?' You can imagine the type."

Heero's lips parted, looking suddenly at the girl and then the Minister's husband. Seeing no response from the man on the other side of the room, the General turned his attention back to her, but remained silent.

"Oh, goodness," she giggled. "You really don't have a sense of humor." She impulsively touched his arm in a soothing manner.

Heero flinched but he didn't pull away.

"It's a joke. He just has terrible humor. He asks me all the time. Of course Dad is my real father." She paused and pursed her lips in thought before explaining herself further. "I mean, I can add. I know my parents weren't married when I was born, but I am his." Being the child of a prolific politician had taken its toll. Juliet was trained to be more worried about starting a rumor that would hurt her mother's reputation than anything. "I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression?"

"No." He shrugged lightly, unconsciously leaning closer to the window.

"You look so serious. I thought I'd actually upset you." She leaned toward her strong leg, scrutinizing his expression. "I guess you just have one of those permanently sad faces."

"Hn."

"That's probably why you look so young, given the gray hair."

It was an astute observation. Barely thirty, Heero was already starting to gray, but her observation didn't bother him too much.

He shifted like he might turn to her yet again but he shook it off and continued to peer into the darkness.

"Mom does, too," she went on, "but she has wrinkles on her forehead. Everyone pretends they don't notice, but they're there."

Heero sighed quietly and looked at her brace. "I thought they said you were a quiet kid?"

"I usually am," she shrugged.

"What did they give you for the pain?"

Juliet smiled. "Don't worry. It hurts, but I'm not putting any weight on it."

He was referring to her chattiness, but she was right about standing with a hurt leg. "You'll injure yourself further by overcompensating. Why aren't you resting and elevating it?"

She pressed her lips together in a playful grin and waited for him to make eye contact. Juliet nodded shyly at the window. "I was really hoping to look around before I had to go to my room. That's the only window I see that has a broad enough sill to sit on."

Heero's frown deepened. "Why didn't you just say so?"

The girl shrugged. "You're handsome and I figured you'd take off as soon as I asked."

He stood over her. "You're right," he answered, watching her another long moment before stepping coldly away.

Heero strode quietly to the kitchenette, avoiding giving any attention to the adults who were still lingering near the door. Leland held his head high and his shoulders straight, smiling as he monologued about ocean boating, a subject about which Lydia knew nothing, nor could she care. Finally Relena made an appearance in the previously closed bedroom door, giving him a an unenthusiastic glance before turning and sending her daughter to bed. Another silent look between the Marks couple and Leland was making his excuses to the Colonel so he, too, could turn in for the night.

Lydia paced the living area slowly, straightening the furniture Juliet had bumped into, familiarizing herself with the layout and the view before she worked her way to where Heero stood in silence. She leaned against the counter at his flank listening to the barely audible but apparently heated discussion from the Minister's private room.

She frowned. "I screwed up."

"No."

She blinked and looked up at him.

Heero shook his head and turned to brew himself a cup of coffee. "I reviewed the information and the setting. There were no clues that this might have happened. It was random."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that we couldn't have predicted it." Waiting for the water to come to temperature, he turned his back to it, folding his arms. "But I'm also sure that whoever is behind this will be back. Even if he is an opportunist with no plan, the adrenaline will have gotten in his head. He'll try to come after her again." Behind him the machine sputtered and spat, interrupting his thought for only a moment. "I'll be waiting for him," he added solemnly.

Lydia had a secret smile as she looked over the empty couches.

"Get some sleep," he said softly. He turned his back to her as she acquiesced to the order. She accepted his stoicism as professionalism, but he knew the quiet was what he needed given the mixture of company.

He had a lot to think about.