AN: Written for the Sub-Rosa Discord server November (lemon) writing prompt: "Fixing things". There will be MATURE scenes in later chapters. I'll include edited versions on FFN with the full version on Ao3, as per the 'new normal'.
Thank you to all those who will read it. *HUGS* Love, ~Rose
Chapter 1 - She began with a day of rain
"First" - The first time Heero noticed her:
Rain drenched her hair and stuck her pale pink blouse to her skin - in all the right places. Translucent fabric clung to her ample chest; she looked fresh-faced, and, Heero grinned, 'A little cold.' She walked into the apartment building, carrying a pocketbook in one hand and a backpack slung over one shoulder.
He leaned onto the black iron railing on the second floor overlooking the lobby of the downtown apartment complex. Its bare, "urban chic" decor designed to attract young professionals, the place advertised itself as being: "uptown in the midst of downtown". But it was really cheaply constructed and on the edge of the 'good area' of town. He lived there because, being an ex-Marine, he didn't fear the criminal element. He got a decent-sized apartment for the price, and an easy commute to sporting events, the airport, and public transportation.
The population changed every six months as life situations or jobs changed. This girl appeared to be new; sopping wet, she left a trail of water on the etched concrete leading to the bank of elevators.
She stepped out into the second floor hallway. His apartment sat along the last row of residences; a single apartment was situated across from his. It was the only two located to the right of the elevator on the northeast side of the building. He watched her glance one way, and then the other, before starting towards his end of the floor. He raised an eyebrow as she stepped past him without a look, then stopped at the door just across the hall, took out a set of keys from her pocketbook, and promptly dropped them on the floor.
Before he could register the thought, Heero found himself picking them up. She turned and looked at him - bright, aqua-blue eyes met his gaze and then quickly glanced away. "Thank you," she said in a soft voice.
Heero nodded and turned to open his own door. Just before he shut it, he heard her call out: "Oh, you're my neighbor?"
Heero turned around. The lace of her bra peeked through the soaked material of her shirt. Water dripped from her hair down her cheeks and looked like tears. "No. You're my neighbor."
"Oh, 'cause you," her lips pursed together and one hand went to her hip. "Ha ha." She wiped her hand on her shirt, as if that would make it any less wet. She extended it in his direction. "My name is Relena Darlian."
"Hn." He nodded and turned to shut his door.
"And you are?" Her voice called out after him.
"Your neighbor." He peered at her through the wedge-shaped opening in the door. "Buy an umbrella." He shut the door.
The second time he noticed her:
Impossibly long legs stretched for what looked like miles in short, loose running shorts; the legs and their owner caught his attention on the treadmill beside him. The same girl: Relena Darlian, his new neighbor, wore a dark colored workout bra with a long, sheer shirt that showed off her slim figure as she jogged.
Heero finished the sprint on his HIIT program, and scaled back the pace to a walk. She continued her jog; her lean arms pumping as her chest rose and fell. Her torso pivoted in time with her steps.
They finished at about the same time; she stepped off the end of her treadmill right into his path. She stopped short and turned to look up at him, the skin at the side of her eyes forming tiny wrinkles as her lips curved into a smile. She met his gaze and the smile fell. "Sorry," she scowled then looked away.
Point taken; he probably could have been nicer to her. He stepped around her and over to the large, mirrored expanse of dull, grey carpeted flooring; the section of his apartment fitness center had been designed for weight training. Multiple stacks of dumbbells were stationed along the wall; a set of floor mats hung from pegs. A couple of adjustable benches sat vacant, but available to all apartment residents. As Heero moved to the weight room, his neighbor followed behind.
He stopped next to the first dumbbell rack and turned around. She stood a few feet away.
"You're following me."
She rolled her eyes. "I happen to work out here every Tuesday and Thursday at this time. But this is the first time I've seen you here." She pointed at him with her water bottle.
Heero grabbed the bottle, uncapped it and took a nice, long drink. "Thanks," he said and handed it back.
She glared up at him. "Are you this big of a jerk to everyone here, or do I get some extra special treatment for living across the hall from you?"
He chuckled. The frown on her face wasn't even close to cross. She was clearly too good natured for her own sake, and - if their interactions were any indication - she was also too naive. With a sigh, he noted he was going to have to keep an eye on her; trouble was bound to find her one of these days.
Relena stepped over to the next stack of weights, and grabbed a pair of fifteen pound dumbbells off the rack. She hefted one weight up to her shoulder, turning the grip as she went; then she slung the other dumbbell - engaging back muscles and using momentum to help propel the heavy weight.
Heero shook his head, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your form is wrong." She met his gaze in the mirror. A hard-ass, former Marine stared back; his dark brown hair had returned to its former, pre-military style. Pieces fell down over his forehead in sweaty peaks. Fluorescent light reflected off the perspiration on the exposed skin of his broad shoulders; his army green tank top fell loose about his waist. The mirror pointed out that her light blue-green eyes appeared several shades lighter than his dark blue ones.
"You're slinging the dumbbell and not getting the full benefit of the effort. You should lower the weight and go slower."
He could see her brain process the information. Her first instinct, the stubborn side of her, stuck out her chin and glared at his reflection. But, she put the dumbbell back on the rack - with a huff. Then, she repeated the hammer curl movement with the lower weight.
His fingers met her shoulder, then slid down to her elbow, moving her arm so it was aligned with her shoulder. He fit one palm against the back of her hand; the other held onto her elbow. Heero helped her raise the weight.
"1 one thousand, 2 one thousand, 3 one thousand." The dumbbell tapped her shoulder. "Now, down in one, fluid movement."
He helped her repeat it once more before letting go; he watched her perform six more reps, then switch hands. She met his gaze as she executed the same movement - working the other bicep. He gave her a slight nod and his reflection added an even smaller smile.
After finishing her sixteen reps, she tilted her mouth up on one side. "Thanks, Umbrella-guy."
'Umbrella? Oh.' He shrugged. "I gave you good advice."
"True. But most people would have started with introducing themselves."
He crossed his arms against his chest and ducked his head to look her in the eye. "I'm not most people. And you should be more cautious with your personal information." Heero leaned closer, and couldn't help but notice she had a couple of freckles on her nose; her aqua-colored eyes held several small gold flecks in their depths. The fact that she was this beautiful close-up and without makeup - she needed to be more careful, not less.
"You don't know me. I could be a stalker. Or a killer. And you tell me your name first thing - a young woman living alone, no less."
Her eyebrows rose and she straightened.
"And, now, I know exactly where you'll be at this time on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Didn't your parents teach you to think?"
That's when he got the rest of her water bottle dumped on him. Icy liquid splashed his face like a cold slap of her hand. He blinked, water dripping down the sides of his face. She strode towards the exit; before she reached the door, she paused, turned her head:
"Buy an umbrella." She tossed the words over her shoulder, opened the door and walked away.
The third time Heero noticed her:
A tall guy with a muscular build, sleeve tattoo and a long, scraggly beard followed her into the building at a late hour on Saturday night. Relena walked, hunched forward and staring at the floor; she stumbled a step, caught herself and took a few rapid stutter steps. Then, she slowed, drawing out her gait; her hands reached for the wall and stabbed the button for the elevator. She leaned forward, bowing her head. Her ribcage visibly expanded and contracted.
The rough-looking guy kept going towards the stairs. Concrete walls echoed with his heavy footsteps. Heero watched from the hallway as Mr. Gnarly Beard emerged from the stairway, turned the corner and headed towards him. He stopped a few feet down the hall, leaned against the railing and waited.
Relena hummed as she moved. Still focused on the ground, she didn't appear to notice Mr Gnarly Beard or that he started moving again after she passed him.
Heero stepped out of the hall; he opened the door to his residence and retrieved the Sig Sauer Model P320 RX he kept in the drawer of a small entryway table. Shoving it into his waistband, he pulled his jacket closed to cover it.
Before she reached her door, Heero tugged her into his apartment and shut her inside. He stood in the corridor.
About a half a minute ticked by; the thug stopped, glanced around then turned and stopped short. He looked at Heero.
"Get lost. Now. And don't come back."
Black, deep set eyes darted one direction and then back. "What're you gonna do about it?"
"Could call the cops." Heero shrugged and widened his stance. "Or maybe I'll use you for target practice." He pulled the side of his jacket enough to show the gun handle above his waistband. "I wonder who will miss you."
The man growled but walked away. Heero waited until the thug exited the building before turning the knob to go back inside his apartment.
She stood with her back against his kitchen counter: arms crossed, face pale; some heavy makeup around the eyes (for her) gave her an older, smoky look. Her skirt barely passed mid-thigh, and she wobbled a bit on her heels when she took a step towards him. The smell of alcohol explained why. "Is he-" She trembled when she grabbed his arm. "Is he gone?"
Heero sighed. "Yeah. But, take my room. I'll sleep on the couch." He brushed a tear from her cheek. "You'll be safe here."
...
The next morning, he awoke to the sound of running water. Dishes clinked and clacked. Something clattered. Hard. Cabinet doors unsticking; opening, closing. Shuffling. The smell of coffee.
He lifted his head from the couch pillow and spied the blonde princess - because she acted like a princess - in his kitchen. Washing dishes?
"What are you doing?" Sleep garbled the sound of his voice; he cleared his throat.
Her head peeked around the cabinet; the overdone makeup gone, she looked her usual self. A certain part of his body noted that it liked hearing her voice, and seeing her face - even early on a Sunday morning.
"Saying thank you."
"You said it already. You don't need to do," he waved a hand in her direction, "that."
"You saved my life last night. Seems like I could do something a little nice for you."
He stretched and stared up at the ceiling - waiting for his 'morning situation' to subside. "I'm pretty sure you hate me."
"Well. Maybe we could start over."
Heero sighed and sat up. He bunched the blanket over his lap and sent a last plea to that part of his body: 'There will hopefully be a time. For that. For her. Just, not today.'
It finally relented. When she returned her attention to the dishes, he took the opportunity to stand, grabbing his jeans from the floor. "You're going to be my friend, now, aren't you?" Heero pulled his jeans up over his legs; he turned his back towards her as he fastened his pants. Semi-dressed, again, in a t-shirt and jeans - he turned around and headed towards the coffee.
"You could try to escape, but I'm pretty determined." She grinned up at him as he approached. "So, why don't we try this again. I'm Relena Darlian," she said and held out her hand.
Heero looked at it and then up at her. He didn't want to be her friend. He wanted to have her sleep in his bed, again. Naked and soft and completely out of breath.
"If you don't tell me your name, I'm going to call you Umbrella-Boy in a loud voice in public places."
"Heero Yuy," he said and took her hand. She blushed, but held his gaze and smiled.
'Hm. She's got a good poker face, but I'm not actually in the friend zone.' He couldn't keep his lips from turning up into a small grin.
Which she clearly mistook for something else.
"It's nice to meet you, too, Heero."