Chapter 3

A week later Relena found herself sitting on a pier overlooking pristine waters in a sunny, warm island location whose name she had forgotten in the peaceful calm. Her pants were rolled up to her knees so bare feet could skim the water and she wore an airy tank top that waved in the wind over her bathing suit. She had even gotten a tan! –Or, rather, her skin no longer reflected sunlight the way it normally did. Beside her, David was fishing – a pastime he enjoyed but rarely indulged due to their busy schedules. A small cooler sat to one side, filled with water, alcohol, and food. Discarded towels and accessories were strewn behind them from a long, restful day spent doing nothing.

The week had been glorious, relaxing, and free of the press or anyone asking them for their opinions on politics. They had been in bed together more often in the past week than they had in almost six months, and only most of that was sex. Relena couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been naked more often than she had been clothed, but she hedged that this week might very well cross that line.

For the first time in years, she felt refreshed.

Reeling in his empty line and setting aside the fishing pole, her husband turned laughing green eyes her way and smiled, a hand grazing her lower back before slipping beneath her tank top to rub circles into her skin.

"Ready to go back tomorrow?"

"No," she lied, "but I'll miss this place. I want to ensure there will always be a beautiful beach like this for people to come to, even if it isn't on Earth."

"You will, Love."

They had talked incessantly since the trip began, recounting their time apart in the months past: how the terraformation project was progressing, what new negotiations had begun between companies, the directions their work was taking them. Both enjoyed the opportunity to delve into the pieces of their lives they had only brushed upon in those precious hours they were able to spend together recently. It gave Relena a renewed sense of understanding for both her own endeavors as well as David's. They had not talked so intimately in ages.

David leaned back on his free hand and stared across the water as the sun sank inevitably toward the open horizon, painting the glassy surface in bright, vibrant colors. She, in turn, studied him: tall and well-built, handsome with sharp, strong features and a ready smile. His sandy blonde hair was cut short, and since they were on vacation it was left natural to fall boyishly into his eyes. Relena always liked him when he was relaxed like this; the world seemed lighter around her when she had the rare pleasure of his uninterrupted company.

"I think I'll miss the privacy," he offered. The hand on her back dipped lower, fingers slipping beneath the waist of her pants to caress her hip. Pleasure spiked and she smirked at him through half-lidded eyes.

"You mean you'll miss the constant sex."

A mischievous grin blossomed on his lips. "That, too."

She kissed him, long and languorous. "We'll just have to make our last night memorable, then." His grin spread and he returned the kiss.

"We have a ten hour plane ride tomorrow, who needs sleep tonight?" She shrieked as he suddenly pounced, hard arms banding around her body as he dragged her to him and began trailing kisses down her neck and shoulders. She struggled half-heartedly and laughed until her face turned red, choking out pleas for freedom and petitioning for the safeguard of her chastity. The last had him guffawing alongside her until both lay gasping for breath on the wooden planks of the pier, their bodies a tangle of limbs that took them several long, lazy moments to disengage.

Relena beamed at her husband as they lay there, fingers brushing away strands of hair from his forehead in affection. He smiled rakishly, promising dark pleasures in the night, and kissed her fingers before helping her to sit up, their legs dangling once again over the water.

They watched in silence as the sun set, sitting thigh-to-thigh and holding hands, until night was a dark blanket around them and the only light came from the small lamp decorating the railing on one side of the pier. The evening was quiet on the island, most other of its inhabitants living on the far side of where stood the small cottage in which they had stayed the week. They had enjoyed the anonymity.

Eventually the temperature began to cool and they started to collect their things. Lastly, David turned to repack the cooler while she continued enjoying the evening, making small talk while he bustled about. When all was ready, he settled beside her again and followed her gaze out into the darkness, a serene smile painting his lips.

"I never did ask - what brought all this on?"

All at once her hands became a very fascinating point of discovery. She had worked hard all week to set aside the events leading up her impromptu vacation, wanting to focus solely on enjoying the time away. She hesitated on the truth, and then shook her head slowly, all humor gone. "Heero stopped by the office last week." Curious eyes swiveled to study her, suddenly intent. The barest edge of strain peeked out at her.

"Is something wrong?" She could hear the confused worry in his voice and she instantly laid reassuring fingers against his cheek, leaning toward him so that their shoulders and arms lay flush with each other. She smiled and shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. I just… I asked him a question I already knew the answer to, and then I nearly crucified him when he answered honestly. It wasn't really what I wanted to hear, but I knew it was coming when I asked the question." She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, fingers dropping to twine with his. He squeezed her hand in return and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, kissing her hair.

"Did he deserve to be crucified?" David asked softly.

"…A little bit," she admitted. She could feel her lips tighten at the memory of the conversation—thirty-eight! "If it was anyone else but him it would have been like a bomb going off. With Heero, he's pretty open about the fact that he's set the timer, how many minutes you have to escape the building, and which hallways to avoid." He laughed softly; Relena had told him some interesting, if edited, stories over the years about her friends. "We don't really surprise each other much anymore; I wasn't, really, when he told me, I think it was just… too much."

Beside her, David nodded. "You've been working too hard lately. I would think Heero would know better than to put something like that on your shoulders when you were already stretched so thin," he said, chastisement in his voice for the dark-haired Preventer.

Relena hesitated, some small part of her wondering why she had wanted to know in the first place. She had suspected from the start, of course. She knew from experience that "checking in" for him meant sweeping for bombs, bugs, and intruders, and heaven forbid she step foot somewhere he hadn't been privy to first when he was around. "I asked him for the answer; it's not his nature to lie to me."

"…Were you hurt?"

She frowned. "I don't know if 'hurt' is the right word. Shocked, maybe?" Was she hurt by it? An emotion flitted through her that she couldn't identify. Cerulean eyes rose to meet steady green as she puzzled through the answer. "Maybe a little stunned? Not hurt, though. …Overwhelmed definitely covers it."

"Do you want me to talk to him when we get back?" he asked honestly, his brow furrowing in concern. Relena beamed appreciatively up at her husband and hugged him tightly in a rush of adoration.

"No," she breathed, "No. I'll talk to him myself when we return. Heero gave me exactly what I needed in the meantime: he made us take a vacation together."

Eyebrows shot up into sandy hair. "This was his idea?"

Relena giggled. "He practically had it planned before I left the room."

David barked out a short, dry laugh and ran a hand through his hair, incredulous. "That man has an uncanny knack for knowing when to show up, doesn't he?" Relena all but fell off the pier trying to hold in her laughter.

"You have no idea!"

"Yuy, you're wearing a hole in my carpet."

"Quatre's carpet," he corrected, ignoring the imperious blonde who stood tapping her foot at him from across the room. Dorothy Catalonia had never been on his 'list of favorite people' (as Duo put it) during the war, and she certainly had not done much over the past decade to earn a spot. However, Quatre vouched for her with a ferocity even Heero did not dare to challenge, leaving him with a dilemma whenever he came to visit the former Sandrock pilot: how easily could he make an heiress disappear and not have it traced back to him?

Quatre glanced at them both with a wry expression and continued the conference call that had captured his attention for the past half hour.

"If you want to have little boy time with Quatre, you should probably do it on the weekend instead of storming in here unannounced in the middle of a work week," Dorothy chided, one arm crossed over her chest while the other gestured animatedly. "Aren't you supposed to be here to guard Miss Relena anyway?"

"Relena is on vacation."

Dorothy's eyes went wide as though she had heard the greatest piece of gossip. "Really?" she practically crowed, "However did she manage that?" Heero always thought the woman looked something like a bird of prey with her unusual eyebrows and sharp smile. In that moment, the expression like a fox scenting meat made him rethink his assessment.

Despite extreme measures to keep certain information secret, Dorothy Catalonia was never far out of the loop; what bits and pieces she was unable to gain by her own considerable skill, she was masterful at gleaning from other people just by simple conversation. Strangely, Quatre was the best at retaining information that he did not want her to know; unfortunately he rarely took advantage of that skill by holding back knowledge from the tall socialite. Dorothy was a political shark, having succeeded in both destroying and building vast familial empires in the times since the Eve Wars with simply the well-placed wag of her tongue. She was a dangerous woman to make an enemy; she and Heero constantly skirted that line with each other, but the Wing pilot sometimes doubted how seriously she believed him to be a threat.

"It was necessary for her well-being," he found himself explaining while he walked from window to window, surveying the surroundings outside the office building where Quatre conducted his company. The building was designed in a way that helping to block out the desert heat and retain the air conditioning, but made it almost impossible to see the whole of the grounds from one window. He did not miss the blond pilot's eyes following him in his circuit despite the continued conversation with his business associates.

"And I suppose you just happen to know exactly where she went and exactly who she went with, don't you, Heero Yuy?" Heero chose not to respond to the baited hook she was dangling before him.

Relena was returning tomorrow, and he had spent the week of her absence torn between following her out on her vacation (an option that he knew would incur her wrath if her previous outburst was any hint) and remaining in the city to prepare for her return. Ultimately, the need to ensure her future safety had won out. He had personally prepared the trip for her and her husband; he knew that it was far less likely that she be targeted or even recognized on the small private island halfway around the globe than when she finally resurfaced in the media's eye. Furthermore, David was with her, and though the man had no formal military training, Heero knew that he was surprisingly capable of protecting both himself and his wife in a small-scale setting. It helped that, unlike his pacifist wife, David had grown up with a father who had taken him hunting and fishing on an annual basis, and had less reservations about using a firearm than Relena if the need arose.

He had finished his preparations with days to spare for her return, leaving him restless without an objective to possess his time. Eventually, he had hopped a last minute plane to the desert and arrived in Quatre's office unannounced earlier that day, startling the Winner heir almost as much as he had Relena a week ago. Unfortunately, he had chosen to arrive on a day where Dorothy was also visiting the quiet businessman on what she called "official correspondence". True to her nature, she used every moment of Quatre's preoccupation to needle and cajole Heero into revealing the nature of his own visit. Bitterly, Heero found he was gradually losing the battle the longer Quatre stayed on his conference call.

"Is this why David has suddenly disappeared as well?" Dorothy crooned, tapping long pale fingers thoughtfully against curving lips. "I've heard neither hide nor hair from him for the past week. Earlhelm Industries works rather closely with the Winner Corporation, you know. Goodness, the man must be ecstatic! He's been hinting at a vacation for ages; they're probably going at it like rabbits, but that's hardly proper to talk about, now is it?" Heero went stiff at the turn in conversation, Dorothy's chortling laugh causing the hairs to rise on the back of his neck and his fingers to twitch toward the gun stowed in the waistband of his jeans.

Sensing blood in the water, Quatre was suddenly there between them.

"Heero, it's so wonderful to see you!" he exclaimed, offering a warm hand that Heero took only partly out of habit. "I'm sorry for the long call, I've been waiting to settle a deal for almost a month now and they just happened to choose today to call me with the final details. How have you been?" Always the tactician, Quatre's hand on Heero's shoulder guided the glowering pilot away from where the sharp-eyed vulture of a woman stood leering at him from across the room.

"Fine," he answered, attention torn between his friend's smiling face and wanting to keep Dorothy in line of sight. He never ruled out the possibility of a knife in the back while in her presence.

"It's been, what? A year and a half almost?"

"Hn." Dorothy casually sauntered toward Quatre's desk as the two men spoke, a gleam in her eye that had every alarm in Heero's head sounding at the same time. His muscles loosened in response, deceptively relaxed.

"Une certainly keeps you busy, doesn't she?"

"There are matters that she prefers I attend to above others." She reclined languidly against the desk, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes flickered up at him, a wickedly amused smile playing on her lips. In his mind, he remembered the double lives she led throughout the war, never quite devoted to one side or another. Quatre, like Relena, was an advocate for terraformation, but Dorothy always had hands in all pots when it came to politics as well as the Earth. Always, she was an unknown variable, neither ally nor enemy but content to play whatever part suited her in a given moment to further her own agenda. Subtly, she took a letter opener off the desk and began to roll it between her hands. Heero's fingers twitched at his side again.

"You should get away sometime, take Miss Relena's example and go on vacation. You're always welcome here, you know. Dorothy?" Quatre focused sharply in on the tall woman just as she lifted the dull blade to tap against her cheek. His voice was pleading and firm all at once, more command than request and yet able to convey both without a hint of irritation. Dorothy smiled brightly at him, the gleam in her eyes sharpening to cut, the opener resting lightly against her skin.

"Yes, dearest?"

"Would you mind giving us a few minutes?"

Her smile transformed into a knowing grin as she pushed away from his desk and sauntered forward. Quatre's hand extended and she carefully laid the letter opener in his palm. "Of course, love. Boys need their gossip hour, after all. I'll be downstairs when you're done." She leaned forward, for once her gaze on the platinum-haired pilot, and kissed him chastely before turning and casually making her exit, closing the door behind her without a glance back.

Quatre exhaled loudly.

"She's going to kill me young," he moaned, rubbing one hand over his face.

"She already tried once," Heero murmured. Quatre's lips quirked and he shot the dark man an amused expression.

"You're one to talk."

"Hn. She isn't just visiting, is she?" Quatre's smile grew, knowing eyes lighting on Heero with all the answer he needed to confirm suspicion. Both had formed a bond in that last battle against Libra all those years ago; one that Trowa seemed to approve of, but Quatre refused to speak about. Heero had learned enough over time to know Dorothy had been the one to stab the pilot, but somehow the act of violence had led to a relationship that only grew stronger over time. If Dorothy were loyal to anything, Heero would have to say it was Quatre.

No matter his feelings toward the woman, Heero was pleased to know the modest man was happy in the life he was building.

Quatre smiled genuinely. "So what brings you my way?"

"Une asked me to consult on the Mars Project."

"You mean babysit?"

He swore sometimes that the people he knew were capable of communicating telepathically. Ignoring the barb that echoed Relena's own, Heero walked to the desk and took to leaning against it as Dorothy had moments before. "To assess potential threats," he reiterated.

Quatre nodded, his eyes suddenly shrewd on the Wing pilot. Hands on hips, he regarded Heero for a long moment before asking, "What does Miss Relena think of your involvement?"

Heero paused, thought back through their conversation a week ago. "She was concerned over her husband's reaction; they've been arguing over her level of involvement in the project. She seemed to think that my presence would add to the stress of the debate." He could fathom the reason, but failed to see the cause for concern. His only purpose on-planet was to protect Relena and ensure that she succeeded in her goals. It was not his place to interfere with her marriage.

"How did you reply?" Quatre asked, voice carefully neutral. The blond man was stepping on eggshells around him. Heero realized this and felt his brow furrow.

"I told her to rest and walked her home." He studied his friend as he was studied in turn, two shades of blue clashing with each other. He could see a war being waged behind Quatre's eyes as the tactician weighed the outcome of his next words. He scowled. "Une's reasoning for sending me here is sound. The further the project advances, the more likely that Relena's safety will be threatened by those against her goals. I'm the most capable to do the job."

"I don't disagree, Heero, but…"

"But?"

Quatre looked uncomfortable but steady: a man steeling himself to give bad news. "Heero, you understand what that must be like for them to have you there, don't you?" When he did not respond, Quatre sighed. "You still stop in to visit her when you're on-planet, don't you?"

"Of course."

"And does David know?"

"She tells him when I'm in town. Occasionally he'll be at the office when I arrive."

Quatre's face grew pained as he spoke, until Heero could feel irritation prickle over his skin.

"If you have something to say, then say it."

He waited a long moment, a battle raging behind kind eyes. When he began, it was with purpose.

"You are an unmarried, long-time friend of Relena's who happens to show up on occasion and command large portions of her time when you do so; portions that her own husband often does not get to enjoy," he explained matter-of-factly. "When you were teenagers, she followed you around the Earth and up into space to help fight a war that nearly took both your lives on numerous occasions, and there are still witnesses from the Mariemeia incident that talk about your injuries and her concern for your well-being. You never come to the reunions with anyone to accompany you. I don't know how much Relena has told David about who we really are or the things we've done, but for the past ten years you have been a ghost on any other occasion but those that involve her or her work. Relena keeps the bear you gave her on the desk in her office, along with that picture of us. Heero, I understand that you value her safety; we all do. But there are lines people tread that can make things difficult for any couple, even those who are happily married."

He felt tense, despite knowing the words were said with thoughtful regard. "…I know that," he explained, frustration bleeding into his voice. "I don't know how else to communicate that I'm not a threat."

Quatre shook his head slowly, eyes still on his friend. "That's the problem, Heero, you are a threat."

The words settled between them heavily: an accusation Heero was not prepared to examine. He could not deny there was truth in those words, but the expression that he saw in his friend's eyes made him itch with thoughts that were being left unspoken. He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and sighed before refocusing on the blond man across from him.

"…She talks to you about me, doesn't she?"

"More to Dorothy, actually."

Well, that explained a lot. Quatre had the sense to look guilty.

"Are these her words, or yours?"

"A little of both. She's had a lot on her plate lately. It's been longer than usual since she last saw you; she was starting to think you weren't coming back this time."

"…Does she want me to disappear?"

Quatre smiled sadly and approached to lean against the desk beside the dark-haired pilot. "I think," he said, voice quiet, "that you disappearing would be the worst thing you could do."

They sat in silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock that kept time on the wall. They sat long enough that the light streaming in from the office windows grew long, and the building grew quiet beyond the doors leading out. Heero's mind rifled through all the possible scenarios he could enact once he left to return to the city, but none seemed right at that moment.

Finally, a knock sounded through the room as the door swung inward on well-oiled hinges. "Quatre?" Dorothy's long hair swung into the office before her face emerged from behind the door, eyeing the two men with a mixture of expressions that Heero gauged to range between honest concern and curious suspicion. When she saw them both unmoving against the dark mahogany wood, she arched an imperious eyebrow and straightened to stand in the entryway, one hand still on the door handle. "I thought it pertinent to check and make sure you weren't dead in a hail of bullets. One can never be too careful these days, you know."

Quatre's grin bloomed and he stood, arms out, presenting himself for her inspection. "Not even a graze," he boasted proudly. Dorothy's eyes lingered several moments longer than necessary as he turned in place, her smile all pleasure. Were Heero a different man, he would have groaned. Instead, he rose and gathered his things, knowing enough by now to understand when he had outstayed a welcome.

"I should be going, I need to be back at the ESUN before Relena returns tomorrow."

"Leaving so soon, Heero? What a shame!" Dorothy all but ushered him out the door and towards the elevators. "We would see you down, but Quatre and I have very pressing matters to attend to. I'm sure you can see yourself out." Beside her, Quatre appeared torn between embarrassment and amusement.

"Come and visit more often, Heero," he said honestly. "We'd all like that. You're always welcome."

He bid Quatre farewell and pressed the button for the elevator. Dorothy smiled wickedly at him when the doors pinged open and he stepped inside.

She waved at him with anything but remorse. "Goodbye, Heero. See you in a few years."

He heard Quatre sigh as the doors closed.

"You shouldn't tease him like that, Dorothy."

"Whoever said I was teasing, Love?"

The elevator descended to spit him out onto the main floor lobby. For once, he took a cab to the airport instead of walking, his mind preoccupied with the coming days and the choices that were being laid out ahead of him. For so long now he had tried to stay out of the way; made himself a passing memory that could do anything but linger, but somehow he had underestimated his own influence.

He had been there when Relena first met David. More than a year after Mariemeia, Quatre had hosted a gala that was both celebration of the successes of a fledgling ESUN, and a nod to Relena's eighteenth birthday and her continued role as Vice Foreign Minister. Officials and businessmen from both Earth and the Colonies had attended, among them a young David Earlhelm as a representative of his own influential family. David was a handful of years older, but it had been obvious to see the instant attraction between the like-minded couple. For once, Heero had been a guest instead of a shadow, the other pilots asked to attend as 'veterans of war'. He had danced and talked with her that night, given her the customary birthday gift, and watched as David and other men had done the same under the guise of propriety and politics. Eventually, he had been called away partway through the night on a Preventer matter and had not returned for months afterwards. When he did finally visit her next, there was a picture of the green-eyed businessman on her desk and a gentle smile on her lips.

He had decided then not to interfere.

Work kept him busy throughout the years, stopped him from dropping in on her at every chance he got. On the occasions when he could no longer remain at a distance, he was treated to the radical changes in her life that her relationship with David brought: an unpredictable, busier schedule; unexpected trips; a new apartment; an engagement ring and eventually a wedding. When she spoke about her husband, it was with awe and contentment. Unlike his unsettled existence, Relena's life had established itself into something solid and tangible; something secure and happy.

If he saw shadows in her eyes, it became his duty to quell them and remind her that she had found what she was looking for.

He boarded the plane stoically, still turning the options over in his head. When he finally allowed himself to rest, he still had not come to a decision.