Author's Notes:

Yes, we made it to Part 7, the longest chapter to date. Please read, review, and enjoy! [08/08: Just edited out a few typos]

Disclaimer:

Gundam Wing does not belong to me.

Lunar Ember Presents

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction

Death and Taxes

Chapter 7: Fragments

Dorothy Catalonia's phone had been pinging non-stop as several nosy "friends" have since seen the now famous photo of Quatre kissing her on the dance floor.

Or was it her who kissed him? She couldn't really remember. Ah, details, details.

She put the phone on silent—she wasn't about to grant interviews from the media, although she her vanity was pushing her to do so. Taking her clutch, she stood up to leave the posh hotel café she was in when her other phone rang.

It was an unidentified number.

"Hello, Marcus."

"Hello, Dorothy. I heard you and Quatre are seeing now each other."

The woman heaved a dramatic sigh, "Oh Marcus, not you, too! You don't really strike me as someone interested in gossip."

There was soft laughter from the other end of the line. "I honestly don't care who you sleep with, as long as you do your end of the bargain. Is the money with you?"

Dorothy mindlessly twirled her hair as she watched people bustle to and from the lobby. "Part of it. We can't really transfer everything in one go, you know. The transactions would appear suspicious."

"Send what you can."

"Alright, but you have to first do your end of the bargain," she drawled. "I want in. As it is, I have already proven my worth to your little project more than once."

The was a pause, and she could hear the gears in his head turn. "Why would a rich aristocrat like you want to dabble in war?"

"You may have forgotten, but it's in my blood. I'm sure Father would be proud," she sighed thoughtfully. "Ms. Relena's fragile peace is a lie. Human nature itself is chaotic—the existence of the Preventers is enough proof of it—but I do want to see what she'll do this time around, given the results of your little experiment."

"You seem to have an unhealthy fixation with her."

"She interests me. My highly privileged life is often boring. Hopefully, you'll afford me a little entertainment?"

She heard him laugh, and this time, it was more relaxed, "Very well. I think Adel will enjoy your company. We'll have a transport arranged for you. I'll message you the details."

Dorothy smiled. "I can't wait."

Wufei stood in the middle of an abandoned, cleaned out apartment in L2, staring at the empty space as if it offended him. He knew that he and Sally wouldn't find anything, but it couldn't be said that he didn't try. Kraz was long gone, and no one knows where he was. Trowa had mentioned that he was most probably in L4, but he has yet to narrow down to which colony to start their search.

"This is like finding a needle in a haystack," he said throwing his arms up.

"Nothing here," Sally said as she exited the empty kitchen to stand next to him. "Well, it's your idea."

"I know. Because something doesn't add up."

Wufei walked to the window and looked out of the colony's sloping sky. Kraz family home was a few kilometers away, but his wife never knew about this apartment—it wasn't registered to the representative, but to an Amelia de la Rocha, which was actually one of Gunnar's aliases.

What puzzled him was that he had met Kraz several times, and he was an honorable man. There was a distinct shift in the past few months, however, as if he weren't himself.

"What are you thinking of, Wufei?"

"That the Kraz I know will not even dream of trying to assassinate Relena Darlian. I don't even think he has ever held a gun before."

"Some people break bad a little late in life."

He looked at Sally. "I don't think so. There's something more to this. I just can pinpoint it yet."

"We have time to ask around. We still have to visit his wife. And Quatre says he can give us more information on Kraz' whereabouts," she said as she walked out the apartment. "Have you seen that photo of him with Dorothy?"

Wufei instructed a Preventer cadet by the door to secure the apartment before following Sally. "Yeah. I don't know what the heck he's thinking getting tangled with that woman. She may not have stolen ESUN's money, but she's officially an accomplice."

"But why would she tell us about it in the first place?" The two walked down three flights of stairs to the building's basement parking. "I don't know, but I get the feeling that she's actually doing it to help us out."

Wufei snorted as they reached their cruiser. "You and Une have gotten soft. If it were up to me I would have already had her arrested."

When Trowa and Quatre reported that they've found the ESUN's lost billions, he had immediately suggested to take Dorothy into custody, but Une raised her hand to quiet him.

"No. We need to see where this goes. Catalonia has contact with Kraz as Quatre mentioned, and she can be useful to us. We've worked with her before, and her ways are a bit… unorthodox, but as long as we have a trail, we'll follow it."

And so we just sit on our hands? He had thought to himself then.

He never trusted Dorothy Catalonia, and he couldn't understand how Quatre could give her a chance. She was manipulative, often playing both sides just to keep on top. The former Sandrock pilot had once explained to him that it was not the case, that it was all a ruse needed for her to survive, but he never believed him.

"The protests are getting bigger," he said he started the engine and drove out the building. "We have to give the people something to hold on to, or else we may be facing something worse. And I don't think they'll take it kindly if they find out that we know where the money is and we didn't do anything about it."

"I guess I'll just trust Une's on this one," his partner shook her head. "Poor Relena."

Wufei never really enjoyed the Foreign Minister's company as much as the other pilots did, but this time, he agreed with Sally.

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to be in her shoes," he said, as he rounded a corner and slowly drove through the third protest they saw that day. "As Duo would say, 'Shit's about to hit the fan.'"

Relena sat in her office, studying stacks of news clippings. Seeing Quatre with Dorothy had initially raised her eyebrows, but she had been in politics long enough to recognize distraction. People are fickle, she knew, and creating a diversion more often than not worked to ease tensions; the young billionaire was well-loved by the Colonies after all, and he was popular enough to have the stunt with Dorothy reach Earth.

But while she appreciated the effort that bought her time, the reality was that the issue with L2 needed to be dealt with, and soon. Already, several opinion pieces have framed her as part of a huge conspiracy of corruption, and while she never really cared about what they said about her, she was highly worried about another break down of communications between the Earth and the Colonies.

"Why is it like this every. Single. Time." She said to the empty room as she hid her face in her hands. For every five steps the ESUN took towards sustainable peace, it took six steps back whenever another scandal erupted. Relena knew her job was something that never really had an end point as diplomacy within the Earth Sphere always needed tending, but sometimes she wished that it would allow her to relax even just for a short while, because the weight was oftentimes too heavy to bear.

Relena felt two tears escape her tightly shut eyes and wet her fingers. Yes, she'll allow self-pity for now. Ten seconds of it. Ten seconds and then she'll be fine.

She screamed into her room—a guttural sound of frustration—and then proceeded to grab a tissue from a nearby box to dab away the dampness. Throwing it into her waste bin, Relena reminded herself why she did what she did, day-in and day-out.

Her mind etched the vision of his eyes. They were intense, but kind. They had always been kind.

She opened the bottom drawer of her wooden desk and retrieved an old, worn-out teddy bear. It was the very first birthday gift he had ever given her a year after he had first promised to kill her.

She chuckled. He never missed a birthday—there had been succinct letters, interesting trinkets, but this bear had seen her though a lot of hard times and had heard so many secrets, which was why she loved it best.

Relena hugged the toy to her chest. While her convictions had always been for the good of the Earth Sphere, the biggest reason why she forged on was less lofty than what many would think: she simply wanted a world where Heero needn't fight anymore. It was selfish, she knew, but that boy whom she first saw injured by the beach on that fateful day had changed how she viewed the world. When he leaned into her before his battle with her brother, he had promised to protect her, but little did he know that she also promised to do the same for him. And for years, she had been trying, in the only way she knew how, and she had always wished she could do more.

There was a sharp knock before her door swung open to reveal Heero, who held it as Chris entered with a tray of food on both hands and a manila envelope under one arm.

"What's this?" She asked as her secretary placed down boxes and a can of drink on her table.

"The team and I got take-out pasta for you," Chris smiled. "It's way past lunch time, in case you didn't notice."

She actually didn't. "Thank you, Chris."

"And here's something else for you," the woman offered her the envelope. "There's an upcoming agrarian talk in L2. They're inviting you to speak."

"Ah, they're looking for an opportunity to grill me, I see."

"Ma'am," Chris lowered her voice as she considered what to say next. "I hope you don't mind me being candid, please know that everyone here knows you didn't have anything to do with the lost money.

"That means a lot. Thank you." Relena smiled. "You've come a pretty long way from hating me."

The secretary pursed her lips as she understood the reference of her past with the White Fang. "No fair digging that up!" She motioned towards Heero. "I've never said anything about him suddenly popping out of the woodwork, have I?"

The man regarded the comment with a snort.

"Anyway, I'll hold off your calls for an hour so you can at least eat in peace," Chris smiled, taking the tray and leaving the room with a wave.

As the door closed, Heero asked, "Why did you ask her back as your secretary after knowing she was White Fang?"

"Why do I allow you to stay on as my Security Head after you promised to kill me?"

"That was years ago."

"Hers was years ago, too."

They stared at each other, and Heero almost smiled. "Point taken."

She gave him a victorious grin before opening the box Chris brought in and checking out the invitation to the L2 event. In between bites, she said, "I'll have to attend this, Heero."

He took the papers from her, his eyes flitting left to right. "You know there are protests in L2."

"All the more reason for me to be there," she said, flipping open a can of sparkling water and pouring it in her empty water glass. "They need to know that something is being done."

Heero sighed, as if knowing that he really couldn't stop her. "I understand. I'll brief you on the protocols tomorrow."

"Sure."

She was about to offer him pasta when he said, "You kept it."

"Which?" She followed his line of sight and saw that he was looking at the stuffed toy that now sat on her desk. "Oh. Yes. Of course I did. It's from you."

She watched his reaction at her admission, but his expression remained neutral.

"I always have it with me," she continued, beyond embarrassment now. "Even during colony tours, the bear comes along. It has kept me company all these years."

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said.

"For what?"

"For not being around."

Relena paused and slowly put down her fork. An apology was the last thing she expected from him because she felt that there was nothing to apologize for. For her, it was just the way their relationship worked; she had never asked him about his travels or where he disappeared to, but somehow she had come to the understanding that at some point, he would come back. And if he never did, then she would look for him and ask him to come back.

"You're here now," she whispered. "So it's okay."

He was looking at her with an intensity that could have frightened another, but just as his jaw clenched, he closed his eyes and slowly exhaled, as if forcing himself to relax.

"You shouldn't be too kind, Relena."

Am I? "I just know that you always have things to do," she said softly. "And that's fine, since so do I."

"If the enemy is indeed building another Zero System, then I might have to—"

He cut himself short. He sounded torn, and Relena knew what he was about to say. Her safety was of primary concern to him, but if something as dangerous as the Zero System were to be revived, then it would be Heero's first priority to disarm it.

"Zero, or even an iteration if it, should never be allowed to exist in this era."

"I know."

"I may need to leave."

"I know."

"But I'll come back."

Relena blinked in surprise. Never, in all the years she had known him, had Heero Yuy promised her his return. She never had assurances—she had known better than to ask for them—but now he stood before her with an oath she knew was not lightly given.

She once again said, "I know."

Her response seemed satisfy him. "I will join you in L2, but I'll have to find out more about this new Zero. Should I need to leave, Zechs, Noin, and the others will be there." He paused, as if organizing his thoughts. "I know I have not been too… present. There have been many things I had to deal with. I understand if through the years you trust my promises less."

"Heero, I would never—"

"But my word is the only assurance I can leave you with. And I give it to you now. I'll come back. I'll always come back."

He looked at her almost expectantly. She didn't know what brought about the sudden explanation, but he needed an answer from her now, even if the thought of giving up on waiting for him had never crossed her mind.

Was that what she had been doing these past years? Waiting? She had never pegged herself a martyr, but she had done crazier things for the man who stood before her.

"Heero," she began. "I've trusted you before, and now more than ever. There will always be things to do, missions to accomplish, but..." She paused, feeling her heart in her throat. "But you'll always have a place to return to. I hope you know that."

She was surprised at how easily the hardness faded from his eyes. Heero lowered his head and gave a small nod. There was no smile on his lips, but she could feel relief radiate from him. He was about to speak when his radio crackled to life.

"Hey man, are you there?" Duo's voice filtered in. "Where are you?"

Heero unclipped the device and leveled it to his mouth. "What?"

"Two things: good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?"

"Bad news."

"Bad news, Gunnar's breach managed to extricate mobile suit information from the ESUN's defense archive."

Relena felt herself gasp and saw Heero's expression darken. "I don't know what kind of good news you can still get out of that, Maxwell."

"Good news is that we know exactly what they got—mobile doll system data."

Heero paused. "Do you think they managed to glean data from—"

"Gimme a sec, man."

They could hear Duo moving out of a noisy room into somewhere quieter.

"I know what you're gonna ask," he continued in a lower tone. "I still need to confirm if they managed to get information about the Gundams. Just gimme a few hours."

"Roger that."

Heero hooked the radio back on his belt and glanced at Relena. "This is going to get worse before it gets better."

She felt a chill in her stomach. The mobile doll system…

"We can't afford another war, Heero."

"We won't have another war," he said as he resolutely walked to her door. "Not if I can help it."

A week after the phone call with Marcus, Dorothy found herself in a small shuttle weaving through the debris of space junk in L4. One of the two most stable Lagrange points, L4 had numerous colony clusters, but the war had also damaged many, leaving them uninhabited. ESUN found that it would be more expensive to repair them compared to simply building new ones, so they're left floating in space, partly functional, but never restored.

Communication signals to the other Lagrange points were weakening. Dorothy tapped on her phone into a locked app which showed a rough estimate of her position. A couple more taps and she sent it out, one quick message riding on an unidentifiable signal, before hiding the device.

What she said to Marcus was true. She was a bored aristocrat, and yes, fighting was in her blood. But while she was still pretty good with a sword, subterfuge was what gave her thrill.

"We're almost there, Ms. Catalonia," one of her guards said. It actually surprised her that Marcus allowed her personal protection of her choosing. "The pilot said we'll be landing soon."

"Thank you."

The burly representative met her in the shuttle bay of one of the many uninhabited colonies in the area, and they filled into a cart that would take them to the main area of operations.

"Of course, it had to be a ruined colony," Dorothy smiled ruefully at the man. "Criminal masterminds need to up their game. A better place maybe? Space is vast, after all."

"We needed a base big enough for what we've been doing."

"What have you been doing?"

"You'll see."

The cart rode through a large passageway which opened into a giant enclave. It was noisy and chaotic—engineers and mechanics ran around machines she thought she'd never see again so soon after the Eve Wars.

"Virgos."

The mobile suits rose ominously before her, seemingly numbering in the hundreds. Beyond her line of vision, she could hear the sounds of production—they were in fact in a working factory of these banned weapons of war.

"Virgo IIs to be exact," Marcus said. "If I remember correctly, you've piloted them before."

Dorothy looked at him from the corner of her eye. She remembered diving into the Zero system; the stress, the fear, and the sheer physical pain manifested by extreme mental pressure the first time she put Zech's modified helmet on. She told no one of how it had affected her, showed no sign of weakness then, and she would be damned if she would show them now. If Marcus was trying to surprise her of his knowledge of her, he had another thing coming.

"Ah, you've been following me closely I see," she intoned, realizing that her past was probably why he invited her to the base. "Careful, Marcus—Quatre might get jealous."

The man laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. And what do you think that rich pansy could do to me? Slap me with cash?"

Dorothy allowed him his enjoyment as she turned her gaze to the lines of mobile suits in production.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

Quatre excused himself from a meeting as his phone beeped a specific alarm in his pocket. Walking back to his office, he quickly plugged the device into his laptop and accessed an encrypted program.

A map of L4 flashed on his screen, with a singular dot pulsing close to the far edge of the system's orbit. Opening his drawer to retrieve his Preventer-issued line, he clicked on speed dial.

"We have Kraz."

"I'm sorry, Director, but it could be a trap," Wufei said as he sat in a conference call in the L2 Preventer office.

"Do you have any other leads, Agent?"

He knew Une would ask that. Gritting his teeth, he answered. "No ma'am."

"The fact that they've manage to steal mobile suit data means that they're probably building them as we speak. And that means we have to move quickly if we're going to nip this at the bud. Maxwell, do you have updates?"

"The defense archive is intact," said Duo, crossing his arms over his chest. "We've tagged data that's been pulled—we know they've got intel on the mobile doll system. In addition to that, they've got data on previous tests on the Zero System."

Une cussed. "How deep have they gone?"

"Not as deep as they would have wanted," it was Heero who answered. "MINOTAUR managed to shut them out before they even scratched the surface. What they have is a jumble of data. Even if they have their own Zero System to sort it out, it would take time."

"And the data on pilot identities?"

Duo scoffed. "I don't think any archive on Earth or in space has anything concrete on us, Lady Une. Not even Preventer."

"It pays to be extremely cautious in this situation." The Director closed the folder before her. "That settles it. Maxwell, I'm taking you off the CID for the time being. If they are playing with mobile suits, we need the best pilots on the field."

"Gotcha."

"Yuy, Zechs. After Relena's conference, get ready to rendezvous with Maxwell and Barton."

"Understood."

"Noin, Chang, Po, stay with Relena. Winner, we'll need you to be our eyes as well."

"No problem."

"Be prepared," Une said. "This is a highly classified mission. Keep it under wraps, or else we'll have ourselves another war. Take ships, mobile suits, whatever you need and head to L4. Shut this down as soon as possible. Over and out."

Wufei clucked his tongue as he turned off the comms when the meeting ended. "If this is a trap, then we're sitting ducks. How many mobile suits can we spare?"

"The Midway can carry up to three squadrons of manned Tauruses and several jets." Sally intoned. "Mobile dolls have nothing against actual pilots, no matter how many they are."

"So we're going to war to stop a war."

"The irony isn't lost on me either. Here," she handed him a thick folder. "Relena's itinerary and Yuy's security plans. They'll arrive today at 1800 hours, and she will be speaking tomorrow at the Department of Agriculture at 1400. There will be cocktails after."

"The amount of trouble the Foreign Minister gets into amazes me. I don't know if Yuy has a death wish by insisting on being with her."

Sally frowned. "I know you don't like Relena much, but you have to admit that she's the best at what she does. The least we can do is to keep her alive."

"I know, I'm not complaining," Wufei almost smiled. "She can be annoying, but she has guts."

His partner chuckled. "More than half of the cadets you've been training before all this started. I'll wait for you outside. I need a drink."

Wufei sighed and opened the Foreign Minister's file as the door softly clicked close. He had to admit, as much as he had initially disapproved of Relena Darlian, she had turned herself into a powerful political force to be reckoned with—and it was interesting that she was not even aware of the full scope of her influence. Interstellar relations that would have taken a lesser diplomat decades to build, she had fostered in fewer than ten years. He respected her temerity, and while he couldn't for the life of him understand how a man like Yuy seemed to gravitate towards her, he acknowledged that it was partly the strength of her convictions that kept the Earth Sphere in balance for this long.

That balance was now precariously tipping.

He flipped the pages to browse through Yuy's security protocols, his neatly printed script on blueprint margins and floor plans. Flipping to the guest list, Wufei's brows furrowed as he saw a name he hadn't seen in years.

"Sylvia Noventa," Relena said as she and Heero rode through the streets of the colony the following day. "She'll be at the event."

"I know."

She looked at him from across her seat. He was once again in a black suit and a tie which agents wore when they're assigned to an official's security retinue. He gazed out the window, his expression neutral.

Relena quickly decided to drop the topic. She knew about Field Marshall Noventa's death, the unfortunate trickery OZ employed that caused many lives and unimaginable guilt to those who fell for it. Biting her lips, she regretted mentioning his granddaughter's name at all.

Heero spoke after a while. "I asked her a long time ago if she wished to kill me."

He was looking at her now, watching her reaction. She remained silent.

"I offered her my gun. She took it, but she never took the shot. That was the last time I saw her."

"I see." Yes, it was something that Heero would do. In the early days of knowing him, she knew how he would willingly throw his life away. To him, offering his life in exchange for one he took was not even an issue worth discussing.

"I've haven't heard from her in years, either," she said, keeping her thoughts about him to herself. "But she's a Noventa—I wouldn't be surprised if she had also gone into public service."

She was a little distracted now, her mind going back to the time when he rescued her from Libra. As the hatch of Wing Zero hid his face from her, she knew then that he had changed. No life was cheap, not even his as he had previously thought. He would live. Carrying the burden of his past, he would survive.

Relena wished she could be that strong. He had told her years and years ago that she was far stronger that he would ever be, and she never believed him. But she would do what she could, one day at a time.

She had expected that there would be protests upon her arrival. The week before the event, she had somehow found enough budget from her own office to directly fund the agrarian research project in L2. It wasn't as large as the initial budget, but she had hoped it would temporarily satisfy its constituents. She would tell them that they were currently tracking the funds stolen from them; admit, without mentioning names, that there were indeed corrupt officials they're eyeing on—but that was it. It was paramount that no one knew about the possibility of a mobile suit resurgence.

Heero tapped on his earpiece as if listening for something. A few more minutes and the car slowed down.

"The driver says there are protesters ahead."

Relena nodded, closing her eyes, listening to the chants growing louder.

If only they knew that the crisis was beyond corruption. If they only knew what was at stake.

If they only knew that the man before her would once again have to save the world.

"It's interesting that you've managed to create this big of an operation without being noticed for so long," Dorothy said, proceeding to daintily cut off a piece of steak a wait staff just served. "And it's surprising that you have an actual chef on board."

"More than one, actually." Marcus replied. "You've seen how many people we have here."

"How did you manage to get these many engineers?"

"Engineers, mechanics, programmers, and former soldiers. People who are unsatisfied by the ESUN," he said. "Even Preventer has moles in its midst."

She took mental note of that.

"Ms. Catalonia, when they dismantled all military groups, how many do you think were disenfranchised? You have highly-trained men stripped away from the life they knew, all because the former Queen of the World had said so?"

"To her defense, it wasn't only her."

But the man had a point. Thousands upon thousands of men and women were forced out of service with the ESUN's thrust of pacifism. Only a few were allowed to continue on as either local police or Preventers, leaving many without jobs or income. Financial assistance only helped so much—the law itself broke the spirit of many former soldiers who were left without a purpose.

"I was one of those soldiers," Kraz said. "I fought in the Eve Wars, on OZ's side. I lost everything after that."

Dorothy looked at him, genuinely confused. "I didn't know you were a solider before you became a politician."

The man paused at that, as if remembering something, then grinned. "Ah, yes. There's still so much for you to know. We'll tell you everything once Adel comes back."

"She isn't here?"

"No. She has business somewhere. But she'll be back soon. Hopefully, with a friend."

Relena sighed as she stood by a cocktail table, still seeing the all-too familiar camera flashes from behind her eyes. The media was given time to ask her questions after her speech, and understandably, they were relentless. Questions from the current status of Colony and Earth relations, to how she felt about being suspected to be a corrupt official, she answered them all with the calm and patience allowed by her years of political experience. Some of those from the press were actually people she knew, but she also knew that they had jobs to do—she would take it against them if they took it easy on her.

It came as a relief that her brother was in the area. Of course, they avoided speaking to each other directly, but at some point their eyes did meet, and Milliardo gave her a curt nod. Noin, Wufei, Trowa, and Sally were also in attendance. She had seen them in businesswear, mingling with the guests. Quatre had come in late as people of his stature would, much to the unhidden delight of the ladies in the event.

And of course, Heero was with her. Somewhere, at least. He always gave her space during such occasions as she did need to talk with so many people. She knew, though, that he had his eye on her.

She was about to seek the roving waiter for refreshments when she heard someone call her name.

"Foreign Minister Relena Darlian. It's good to see you again."

She turned to see a familiar pair of green eyes looking at her.

"Sylvia Noventa."

She was grown up now, and stood at around her height. Her blond hair was swept up into a messy ponytail, with wavy tendrils framing her face.

"I was about to ask how you're holding up amidst all this craziness, but it seems that you're doing well."

"What happened was unfortunate and unacceptable," Relena answered, choosing her words carefully. "But we're doing our best to resolve the issue."

"Of course."

Sylvia seemed polite, but she didn't expect her to address her with uncharacteristic directness after all these years. The Sylvia she knew had been quite reserved; she seemed to have lost that softness. Relena was only glad that she hadn't spotted Heero yet.

The woman smiled, tilting her head to the side. "It's quite crowded in here. Would you walk with me to the gardens to catch up?"

"That would be nice."

Out to the side of the main hall were a few steps that led to the Department of Agriculture's expansive gardens which had everything from seasonal flowers to vegetables. There were people milling about as well, holding champagne glasses, and she spotted a couple of Preventer sweepers in the area.

"I've been watching your career," Sylvia began. "You've been amazing—the youngest foreign minister in history!"

Relena smiled, "It's a curious title to have, especially since my position was simply brought about by the war."

"You sell yourself too short. I've seen how hard you worked."

They stopped beneath an arbor of rambling roses, and Relena reached out to touch one of them. "I'm flattered that you've been following my efforts, but where have you been all these years?"

"L4."

Relena glanced at her. A smile was still on Sylvia's face.

"I've been helping old soldiers readjust to this peace you've fostered." The woman's green eyes wandered the garden, as if suddenly in deep thought. "It's been years, but many of them still feel lost."

"It is a problem," she admitted. "I've tried to launch projects that would help them reintegrate properly into society but of course, not every case is a success." It was a cause close to her heart. When she had vouched for pacifism, it was to the dismantled military that she had first turned her attention to. These people were like Heero and the Gundam pilots—unsure of what will happen to their lives next. There was just no way she could turn her back on them, but somehow, she knew what she did wasn't enough.

"It's good that there are people like you looking out for our veterans," Relena smiled.

"I hope one day you'll come see my work in L4, Foreign Minister."

"I'd love to."

Sylvia finally turned to her and reached out to hold her hand.

"How about today?"

Heero remained a good distance away from Relena and Sylvia as they spoke in low tones in the garden. He knew better than to approach—Relena was technically at work, and he was sure that Sylvia did not want to see him.

It's been years, but killing Field Marshall Noventa was a mistake that still haunted them. It was one of the many moments that Zero chose to taunt him with in the latter days of the Eve Wars, together will all the things that would have come to pass had he avoided the massacre. So many what-if's. So many regrets.

In the beginning, he regretted that Sylvia did not pull the trigger on him. Life is cheap, especially mine. But the war raged on and taught him the value of every breath, the sobering reality that he was more than just a disposable solider. The realization had unearthed so many questions, so many possibilities of a life that suddenly expanded before him, and he was both guilty and grateful that she had chosen to spare him.

He wasn't worth it at all, he knew, but he swore he would make good use of the chance.

Heero watched Relena smile at Sylvia. She wore a collared A-line dress in white, her skirt gently billowing in the passing breeze. Through time, she blossomed like himawari beneath a gentle sun. Whenever he'd receive news of her, he would see changes that no one else would. For years he had resisted her gravity—he needed time to figure out his life—but somehow, he always returned into her orbit.

It was funny that it took him so long to realize what a silly expenditure of energy it was to keep away from her.

A quick movement cut his thoughts short, but it was only a Preventer sweeper walking by the two women. He was about to relax when instinct suddenly told him something was wrong.

"What do you say, Foreign Minister? Would you come with me today?"

Relena uncomfortably laughed, confused at the suggestion.

"I don't think that would be possible…"

She felt a painful prick on her palm. She quickly retrieved her hand from the woman's grasp and held it to her chest.

"Sylvia—"

"Call me 'Adel.'"

She couldn't feel her fingers. She was dizzy, and her eyes were suddenly heavy. Tilting forward, she felt her forehead fall on Sylvia's shoulder, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the fluttering of a dark coat.

Then there was darkness.

Heero started to make his way to Relena when her heard her audibly gasp and cradle her hand. When he saw her head fall forward, he started to break into a run.

"Chang, I need EMTs," he urgently said over comms.

"What happened?"

The Preventer sweeper he saw earlier took Relena as people started to notice. Was it the heat? Is she okay? Somebody call a doctor! Heero inwardly cursed as he weaved through the forming crowd, only to be suddenly faced by Sylvia Noventa.

"Hello, Heero Yuy."

A sharp pain exploded in the area just beneath the bullet-proof jacket he wore. He growled through clenched teeth as Sylvia twisted the blade into him before pulling it out.

"You owe me that."

Heero stumbled forward to grab her but she was gone. Pressing onto the wound, he could feel the blood starting to soak his shirt.

"Chang, did one of your sweepers get Relena?" There was a pause and voices over the frequency, and in the split-second he waited Heero already knew the answer.

"No, have you got a visual?"

He ignored the question, his voice rising with his anger. "We've been compromised. Shut this place down."

"Heero!"

Trowa was suddenly before him and he felt himself being dragged up. "Yuy's down. We need EMTs at the west wing—"

"I'm fine," he broke out of the other man's grasp and ran to where he last saw Relena, weaving through the crowd and ending up just before the open parking lot where Zechs and Noin were.

"You're bleeding!" Noin exclaimed.

"It was Noventa," he hurriedly pushed the woman out of his way. "Chang, talk to me."

"They've escaped with her in a van," his voice filtered into his hear. "We're going to—"

An explosion threw several Preventer cruisers up in the air before crashing back into the concrete. The tension broke into chaos—there was screaming and keening, and the sudden pungent scent of burnt flesh.

"We need to get people out of here right away—"

"We've got five dead and more injured."

"Someone fucking find the Foreign Minister!"

Heero ran and snatched two sets of motorcycle keys from the building's security checkpoint and threw Zechs the other set. The wind whipped against his face as he zoomed out into the street, scattering the already panicked protesters, and he weaved through the traffic already building up as more emergency units were dispatched to the scene.

Relena.

He felt his heart slow into an even rhythm, felt a long breath escape his lips, felt the pain on his side mute into unnoticeable throbs. There was nothing else, no one else to consider but her.

"Chang, Zechs and I are in pursuit. Send us data on the vehicle."

The screen on the bike's dashboard flickered to life, showing a map of L2 junctions and a red beeping light that flew through them.

"The 31st and the 28th both end at Main Avenue," Zechs said over comms. "I'll cut them off at 31st. You take them from behind."

"Roger that."

He felt the older man zoom past him as he made a sharp left into a smaller street. He zipped past pedestrians and street vendors before finding himself on the wide lanes of Main Avenue, far behind the trail of a nondescript black van.

Heero pulled out his gun and shot the wheel.

The van lurched and continued to run, but slowing down enough for him to be able revv up, match its speed, and prepare to make a jump for it. He saw Zechs emerge from a side street as he readied to close the distance, but before he could do so the van made a sharp U-turn, making his bike almost skid to the side, and just as he recovered he saw a grenade fly out the window towards him.

"Yuy! Get out of there!"

He maneuvered out in a wide arc, jumping the bike across the island to oncoming traffic as he felt the heat of the explosion on his back.

Heero fell hard on the street, the cement raking his skin raw as the bike wickedly spun on its side. Tires screeched as cars avoided him, and as he stood up, all he could see was smoke and fire and blood.

Relena was gone.

To be continued

Next Chapter: The tempo rises, and the waltz repeats.