When the intense tempo of the pasodoble started up, the soldier knew it was his chance to impress. Few couples remained on the floor as the guitar and trumpets began a steady intense beat. Relena had sat the last two dances out and was rested, they had adequate space, and were primed for a perfect dance. All of Quatre's lessons fresh in his mind, he held his posture even cocking his head arrogantly, eliciting an impressed smile from Relena.

"Remember…subtext." Quatre had said.

"Be strong, grounded."

"Lead with confidence."

"Be the matador."

"You're the anchor that really allows your partner to shine."

And shine she did. The quick and precise movement of her steps punctuated by the flare of her steps punctuation by the flare of her skirt turned every head in the room. The elegant placement of her arms, the movement of her hips, her perfect form: she was impossible to ignore. He ended with a dramatic dip, catching her only inches from the floor, the performance garnering a smattering of applause. From the onlookers.

She was out of breath by the time it was done and the pair retreated to the wall to rest, Relena politely declining several offers to dance as they exited.

"I think I've only got about one more dance like that in me tonight." She panted as she sank into a chair as gracefully as she could."

"Pity." Heero grunted, just loudly enough to hear. "Save it for me."

"Of course."

Even though he was an expert at concealing what few emotions he experienced, Relena could tell by the slight ease of his posture that he was please with their 'performance', and she couldn't wait to do it again. As she took a minute to catch her breath, and regain her composure, she spied Vice President Charlotte Frasier staring longingly at the dance floor. She tugged on her boyfriend's sleeve at the elbow.

"You should go ask Miss Frasier for a dance," she said with an encouraging tone.

"Why would I do that?" he furrowed his brow in genuine confusion.

"Because," Relena stood, placing her hands on his shoulders and aiming him in the general direction. "It looks like she wants to dance and no one has asked her yet."

Heero wondered why any of this was his concern and it was showing on his face. When he didn't respond, she stood on her tiptoes again and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"She's the vice president of the United States," she cooed, "I'm sure any kind of positive interactions will reflect well on the colonies, and you will how influential the Us. is with Latin American affairs."

He knew what she was doing, and he knew if he objected again, she would assure him she was still resting and would dance with anyone else. He exhaled deeply, which was his way of conceding. Relena gave him another kiss on the cheek and an "I love you." Before giving him a gentle push forward. She couldn't help but smile as he approached the middle-aged woman and introduced himself. She half expected him to scare her off with his rigid demeanor, but to her surprise, he led her to the dance floor with the grace of a gentleman. The dance was a salsa, easy enough to manage, even if she lost her footing a bit throughout. He kept a steady and easy to follow. When the song ended, he even offered to dance the next with her which she gladly accepted. Another salsa later, they were exiting the dance floor making small talk before parting ways. VP Frasier caught Relena's eyes and nodded, conveying a heartfelt thank you.

She was pleasantly dumbfounded. "You seem to make a good impression on her," Relena said when he resumed his post, standing to the right of her chair. "Quatre must have done a number on you."

"He was very helpful explaining the importance of subtext and confident posture or something," Heero conceded.

Relena raised an eyebrow. "Subtext?"

Before he could reply, the trumpets broke into a robust, upbeat tune. A samba. With just a split second of eye contact, they knew to take to the floor. Heero took her hand and pulled her out of the chair, hurrying among the other couples to the starting position. They joined hands for a brief moment just to get their bearings before breaking.

For the first time that evening, Heero had trouble focusing. Ever since he'd woken up in her arms that day on the beach five years ago, he'd thought Relena was pretty, a sentiment that only grew as she matured into a beautiful young woman. But seeing her now, was a different sensation entirely. With the dress and the heels and the hair and the jewelry and that glint in her eye, she'd gone from gorgeous to outright sexy and seeing her move like this was nothing short of erotic.

His arms around her waist.

His strength supporting her frame.

Her leg crooked around his.

It was an exhilarating kind of adrenalin rush unlike anything he had ever experienced in a cockpit and he relished every moment. They complimented each other's movements ignoring the onlookers and other couples. He ended the samba with a provocative hold, her leg wrapped around his and his hand on her thigh to support her weight.

It wasn't until after the music had ended and there was a brief moment when reality set back in that he became aware of how hot the room had become. He could feel his face flushing read with heat, noting that Relena's had done the same.

"Are you hot?" he asked as he escorted her back to her seat.

"Yeah," she answered shortly between well concealed gasps for air.

"You want to get some air?" he asked, gesturing to a glass door leading out onto the veranda. The gentlemen had long by this time finished their cigars, but the outdoor lights were still on.

"Yes, please!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Some fresh air would be just the thing to cool off and take a moment to recharge her social battery.

The hotel had plenty of outdoor seating, overlooking a river neither of them knew the name of. No doubt during the day, it was a sight of Cuban decadence. This late however, the view of the water was completely obscured by the night, leaving only tiny yellow lights reflected in the endless black of the water's surface.

For a few minutes, they just stood in silence, looking out over the water.

"You practiced all those dances for me?" Relena eventually said, still completely bewildered. "All six weeks? That's what you were doing? What even made you decide to do something like that?"

Heero shrugged. "I thought it would make you happy and it would make you look good in front of all the right people. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't have lied to you," Heero insisted. "I just wanted to make sure I didn't steal any of your focus…and I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, then you can call this a mission success," Relena laughed lightly.

"But I think that there's one more dance I owe you." Heero pulled her by both hands away from the railing overlooking the water to one of the nearby tables. Pulling up a CD player concealed in the seat and placing it on the table, he pressed a few buttons until a familiar tune came out of the speakers.

"This isn't a Latin dance," Relena laughed. "It's a…what is this, a foxtrot?"

"Not just any foxtrot. A slow foxtrot, and the very first dance I ever danced."

Relena's eyes widened as her memories became flooded with that very first night they'd danced at the academy. How many hours he must have spent scouring to find the exact piece played that night she couldn't imagine.

"But why now?" Relena asked.

"Because that first time, neither of us were at our best. You were fresh off your father's death, and I was still on my mission, and vowing to kill you. And I think it's time we get to do things right: you actually dressed to the nines and me, a proper and caring dance partner." He held his hand out to her. She took it and they merged into perfect form, weaving in and out of the tables expertly as Heero led her around the veranda, and for a time, there was nothing but the two of them and the music. There was no conference, no trade agreements, no pressure, no kingdoms to run, or images to maintain, just a boy and a girl in each other's arms. Relena felt the immense pressure of the evening evaporate as she could just relax for a moment with the one person she didn't have to be perfect for. Heero, of course, thought she was always perfect, and enjoyed spending these few minutes where he didn't have to share her with the rest of the attendees. Even if it was just this song, she was his and his alone. He held her body to his and kept the pacing even and measured until the song came to an end. The CD continued on to another song, but they'd stopped dancing and walked hand in hand back to the player.

"Well, was the second attempt better than the first?" Heero asked her.

Relena smiled, "It was certainly more picturesque, but the original has its own unforgettable memories. What did you think?"

"I think we need to do things like this more often," Heero replied.

That wasn't like him. She put on her thinking, diplomatic face and nodded. "I agree. I like the thought of us being together more often."

Heero turned around to face her. "Then how about for the rest of our lives?" He held his hand out, revealing the tiny velvet box he'd been able to conceal in his pocket.

Time froze. Everything felt like it was underwater and for a few seconds, Relena forgot how to breathe. It was all happening so fast.

"Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian Peacecraft, will you marry me?"


It was quiet night on the L4 colonies. Duo and Quatre had turned off the news coverage of the North American Trade Union summit about an hour before. The journalists were only interested in reporting the meetings and their respective outcomes and cared nothing for the nightly festivities. Quatre had leaned back and closed his eyes while Duo continued to flip through the channels looking for something remotely interesting to watch.

Without warning, Quatre suddenly bolted upright looking at Duo with an excitement Duo didn't know how to interpret.

"He did it! He asked her!" Quatre said with confidence.

"And?"

Quatre smiled "She said yes!"