AN: alphaikaros drew a really cute pic from chapter 4: tumblr.'com'/blog/view/alphaikaros/638498326065627136
Thank you to everyone who is reading. And thanks for the kind comments / reviews as well. I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season!
Love, ~Rose
Losing my Breath
Chapter 5
"Avoidance" - Was a game they both played.
...
The next night, Relena knocked at his door; Heero powered down his game and let her in.
"Hey," she said and handed over a couple of grocery sacks. The smile she gave him was different than last time. Softer.
He nodded and repeated the greeting.
"I hope you're hungry."
"Twenty-four seven."
She flipped her hair off one shoulder. "Once a Marine always a Marine?"
"Semper Fi." Heero placed the bags on the counter. He turned to give her a better greeting, but she slipped around him into the kitchen. He frowned.
Relena made her way to the oven - long legs covered in dark-colored tights did nothing to detract from their allure. A short, casual-looking green skirt drew his eyes to the pleasing curve of her hips.
His hunger was different than last time, too.
She pressed buttons on the oven, then opened and closed the door.
"Steak and potatoes again?" Heero began removing groceries from the bag and placing them on the counter: a pre-made container of 'organic mashed russet potatoes'; a fresh stalk of broccoli. No jalapeños?
"Grilled portobello mushrooms on hamburger buns. For the vegan in you." Relena grabbed the other bag.
He pulled the styrofoam and cellophane-wrapped steaks out of the bottom of his grocery sack and held them up. "Now who's a liar?"
Her lips twisted and she looked away. "Nothing says 'thank you for keeping a girl from being date raped' like steak and potatoes." Relena plucked the containers from his hands. She ran water into a pot. Settled a sauté pan on the stove.
"He was your date?" Heero's hand bent and flexed; his skin felt tight. His knuckles throbbed.
"No, I told you. A coworker." She kept her eyes downcast. "It was a work 'happy hour' at a bar around the corner. He offered to walk me home. He seemed," she shrugged one shoulder. "Nice. At first." She rinsed the broccoli and placed it on a cutting board.
Heero glanced down at his hand. A bluish-green stripe marred the flesh of his knuckles.
"As opposed to someone who seems like a jerk, but who's actually pretty nice."
His breath caught outside his lungs. She had a way of doing that to him. It felt uncomfortable - similar to his training. Discomfort became a challenge. Something for him to learn from. Improve. Grow.
"Hn. Where's my beer?" He peered into the other sack.
She turned and planted a hand on her hip. "Don't push it, Yuy."
He narrowed his eyes. "Did you, by chance, Ms. Darlian, bring me more delicious ale?" Heero placed a hand on the counter and hovered close; so close, he could lean down and kiss her...
"I'd sure be grateful."
Relena moved away. Around him. She pulled the over-sized bottle from the bag and held it out to him. One eyebrow arched. "Was the Southern drawl for my benefit? Or just the only time you've heard someone speak who had manners?"
He brushed his fingers against hers when he drew the bottle from her grip. She blushed and looked away.
"Spent time in the Carolinas*." He popped the top from the bottle.
"Oh?"
"Parris Island. Boot camp."
"Ah yes. Marine boot camp." She plunked one seasoned steak into the sauté pan. The meat sizzled; the smell whet his appetite.
"Where they taught you to be a stalker, I mean, sniper."
"Hn." He took a sip of his craft specialty IPA. "Where's yours?"
"I left mine in your fridge. Didn't you notice?"
Heero shrugged and moved to the refrigerator to grab her beer. Another thud from the pan indicated she'd flipped the steak over - to sear the other side.
"What did you do before the Marines?"
"High school. Like everyone else." He used his t-shirt to twist off the cap from the lager she drank.
"What did you do before princess school?" Heero handed her the beer and leaned on the counter beside her.
"I went to fairy princess school," she said with her eyes on the pan. "Where we learned to flit about in fairy tales, thank you very much."
"Ah." There's the Relena he knew. The one who made him want to kiss her smart mouth shut.
"High school. College." She used a pair of tongs to move the steak to an oven pan. A pot of water boiled on the back burner. She turned the temperature down and covered the pot.
"So, being a fairy princess is an advanced degree."
"Absolutely." She deposited the other steak in the oven pan. "And stalkers are apparently Prince Charming school dropouts." She finally looked at him. Her mouth tucked up on one side; delicate, red veins showed in her eyes.
He brushed a piece of hair from her face, intent on stealing a kiss. But before he could claim her lips, she gasped and moved away.
"The potatoes. I need to heat them up." She grabbed the container from the counter and flipped it over. "I, uh," she stepped around him. "Yeah. Be right back."
"Hn." He tried to keep from growling.
Relena moved to the other end of the kitchen, removed the wrapping on the potatoes and stuffed the container in the microwave.
"I don't stalk you." He sipped his beer. "Yet."
"Very comforting, Yuy."
Heero carried the plates of food to the table. He moved a chair for her to sit down. Once she settled in, he sat in the chair beside her. Relena gave him a tight-lipped smile.
"You all right?" He said and leaned towards her.
"Yeah." She looked at her plate, ran a shaky hand over her forehead. "Just," she sighed, "on edge most of the day." Relena glanced up, but didn't meet his gaze. "I'm better, now. Thank you." She touched his arm.
Heero felt her warmth suffuse from his arm to his shoulder. Then, his stomach dispelled the effect with a groan.
They ate in silence. Heero tried to slow his usual pace. While appropriate for military life, he presumed rapid food inhalation didn't impress fairy princesses.
Relena cut her food into perfect squares, chewed with a closed mouth, and dabbed at the corner of her lips with her napkin.
"This. It's good. Didn't think they'd teach cooking in fairy princess school."
"It's actually a very important skill. Not as much magic required when a fairy princess can cook."
"Hn. Didn't know that."
She pushed a piece of broccoli to the edge of her plate. "There may be a lot you don't know about fairy princesses."
"I think I know this one pretty well." He glanced at his empty dish and sighed. She still had food on her plate.
"Do you?"
Heero grabbed his beer and sat back in his chair. "You tell me."
"What do you really know about me?" Relena met his gaze. Her eyes gleamed a brilliant shade of bluish green. But, she had a tight set to her jaw, and the muscles of her neck strained against her skin.
This, some form of this, question - bothered her. It was why she was here.
Heero swallowed and took a deep breath. As a sniper, the Marines trained him - to know and recognize 'moments'.
Moments, when all the training: his focused mind, muscle memory, weapon knowledge. When all the preparation: target reconnaissance, angle of attack, position scouting. When all the setup: hidden amidst the terrain, barrel aimed, trajectory known.
Everything came together in one, crucial, moment - when the sniper squeezed the trigger and took his shot.
"I know the woman I see," he took in a breath. "Has a smart mouth. A clever sense of humor." He exhaled. His pulse sounded uniform in its rhythm.
"A kind heart." He held her gaze. "And tenacious spirit." He leaned forward. "Which is the nice way of saying she's stubborn as fuck."
"Look who's talking." Her lips pressed together and she tilted her head.
"She's patient. A little old fashioned - in just the right way."
She stared at him. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes.
"Do I need some facts and figures to tell me who you are? Or do I have an accurate picture?"
"They clearly don't teach flattery in sniper school."
He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Not a tool we need for the job."
"I guess not." She folded her hand over his, pulling it down to the table. Their fingers tangled together.
"Besides, my fairy princess doesn't like empty flattery."
"She doesn't?"
"No. She'd rather have genuine respect and admiration."
"Well, true. But not very princessy, when you think about it." She narrowed her eyes and stuck out her chin.
"I won't tell."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"So you dropped out of fairy princess school?"
"Hm. Expelled. Actually."
"A rebellious fairy princess," he said with a chuckle. "That, I'd believe." A picture of her in a Cinderella dress popped into his mind - with a leather jacket thrown over her shoulders and motorcycle boots peeking out from under the elaborate gown.
She giggled, and the air in the room lightened. "I like hearing you laugh."
'I'll like hearing you scream.' God, he wanted to heft her onto his kitchen table and take her right there.
"I like you, Heero." Relena spoke to their joined hands. She lifted her eyes to meet his. "I like being with you."
The uncomfortable feeling surfaced, again. His shot taken - time to retreat. Except. That's not how this mission worked. "I told you before. You're the only one who suits me."
He stood from the chair with his plate. There could still be potatoes….
Heero cleared the dishes from the table and stacked them in the sink. They'd keep until morning. He held out his hand to help Relena out of her seat. "You don't always have to cook."
"No?" She rose to her feet. "You cook?"
Heero shook his head. "I eat. What I cook isn't for normal humans. But, there are places called restaurants." He met her gaze. "I could take you to one. I think you'd like the experience. They cook for you."
"That. Sounds like a date, Mr. Yuy." She crossed her arms. "Or should I refer to you by your rank?"
Heero moved to the den and sat on the sofa. He hoped she would follow him. Maybe this time...
"Sergeant?" Her voice called out after him.
"Lousy guess." He moved closer to the center of the sofa. Then back to the cushion farthest from the kitchen. "Sergeant is too vague." He shifted, again, and leaned back against the cushions.
"Hm. I guess Mr. Yuy will have to do." Her voice grew nearer. He could make out her darkened reflection in the powered-off monitor.
"I was a CSO, Critical Skills Operator. Called us Raiders." He watched her reflection. "I commanded an MSOT, a team, before MARSOC."
"Where did you, um, live?" Relena hovered behind him. The position reminded him of interviewing tactics designed to make detainees uncomfortable.
"Nowhere for long. Stationed at Camp Pendleton."
"Ah. California."
"You're from Florida. The panhandle?"
"Someone's been Internet-searching his neighbors." Her reflection pursed its lips together; she placed her hands on the back of the sofa.
"Can't be too careful." He craned his head to look at her. It made for a nice view. Her chest, at this angle, held a pleasing, rounded shape - in a white, thermal shirt (with two buttons undone). She met his gaze.
"I have top secret clearance. You could be a spy."
Her eyebrows lifted. "That sounds far more exciting than being a PR analyst."
"Hn. I don't want or need exciting. Being normal is enough."
She dipped her head and looked him in the eye. "I don't think you count as normal."
"Should have seen me before. I was a real hardass."
"Was?"
He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. He still wanted to kiss her and shut her up. He just wanted to kiss her.
"So, you're all soft and squishy, now, is that it?"
Heero let out a puff of air. "No."
"So, what do you do, now?" Her hands moved closer. "For work, I mean."
"I run a small group of dark web researchers and threat intel analysts. My own consulting company."
"Oh! Wow. That's incredibly interesting."
Heero's reflection took a last sip of his craft beer and set the bottle on the wooden tv stand nearby. "We provide targeted data and reporting about cyber threats. It's a niche offering." He looked up at her, again. "Something I can do because of my military background and security clearance."
"Sounds," her hands moved closer. "Stressful?"
Heero frowned. Stressful compared to what?
Her hands touched his shoulders. Heero flinched.
"Is it...not ok? For me to touch you?"
He sucked in a breath. "It's. It's ok."
Relena smoothed her palms from the base of his neck to the edge of his shoulders. Her fingers kneaded his trapezius muscles through the fabric of his t-shirt. Her thumbs slid down to work into the lower part of the muscles - urging them to relax.
He fought to breathe, to keep from tensing under her ministrations. Heero clamped his eyes shut, clenched his jaw, drew air and counted to five. One of her hands moved up to press soothing circles into the section of muscle that ran down his neck.
Those strained trapezius muscles finally relented. And her touch felt: succoring. Warm. Promising.
"Hnnnnnnn." Little by little, his neck and shoulders yielded to her touch - as she coaxed one muscle fiber at a time to relax.
'I'm sure I can find a way to repay the favor.' The urge to kiss her rose to the surface of his mind, again. And his brain wasted no time in forwarding the desire down his spine. It thrummed through his body, and made his limbs feel lighter.
With munitions transport lines established, his brain replayed the memory of their last kiss from the night before.
...
He tasted the salt of her tears as their lips met in a slow, languid kiss. His chest tightened and her nails dug into his skin - through the thin t-shirt he wore.
Strands of hair slipped through his fingers.
...
After several, incredible minutes of her massaging his neck and shoulders, Heero reached up and caught her hand. He towed her around the edge of the sofa to stand in front of him; then pulled her into his lap.
'Finally.'
Relena smiled; her palm cupped his cheek, and she pressed her lips to his. Heero opened his mouth and brought one hand up to the back of her neck - urging her closer. He deepened the kiss.
After a few, slow, heartbeats, she pulled away.
"You changed the subject," Heero said.
"I did? What were we talking about?"
"Me, taking you on a date."
"This isn't a date?" Her fingers traced a path over his left ear.
"I'm fine if it is, but, I don't mind taking you out." He studied her face. "Unless there's a reason you're avoiding the topic."
"No. You seemed like more of a homebody, to me. Not in a bad way."
"I am. But, you're not as much of one."
She looked away.
"I'd like to," he tipped her chin in his direction, "do something you'd enjoy."
"Then it's a date. About time you asked me, really. You're not very good at hints." Relena smiled and rose from his lap.
"And you're terrible at subtext." Heero stood and caged her in a loose embrace.
"Am I?"
Her citrusy cinnamon scent caught his attention - amplifying his brain's focus on a singular cause: seduce Relena. It throbbed and hummed through his veins like a lively melody.
"Like this: you should stay for dessert."
"Oh! You didn't strike me as a guy who'd have much of a sweet tooth." She turned in his grip. "But, I have gelato—"
Heero tightened his arms around her. "Not what I meant."
"You mean," she fidgeted with the small medallion on his neck, "something else."
Heero remained quiet. Listening.
"Hm. I have a policy of not sleeping with a guy on the first date."
"It's not our first date." He mentally sighed. He'd have to be content with holding her like this. The melody softened; the sound became sweeter.
"True. It's negative one. We haven't even had our first date."
Heero frowned at the sharp note. "So, you cooking dinner, us working out together - doesn't count?"
She smiled and pecked his lips. "That. Was incredibly sweet. And endearing." Relena pulled away.
Wait. Why was she leaving?
"You've been deflecting. Avoiding me. This. Us."
"And yet I was the one knocking on your door." She grabbed her pocketbook and keys from his counter.
Heero beat her to the door. She halted; blond hair formed a curtain in front of her face.
"I said you're the only one who suits me, Relena."
She took a loud, rasping breath.
"It means," he swallowed against a strained feeling in the back of his throat, "what it sounds like."
"It sounds like," her voice trembled. "Almost like." She turned towards him; her eyebrows peaked in the midst of her forehead. "A 'till death do us part' type of statement. And that's—"
"Scary." The melody quieted. The room fell silent around them. "For you. Apparently."
Her mouth opened, closed. Her fingers traced the logo on top of her small, black pocketbook.
Finally, her voice - just above a whisper: "Thrilling and frightening. It's just. It's too rushed. Too soon. We only..." She ran a hand through her hair and sat back against his door. "This is the first time you've told me anything. About yourself."
"I know."
"Was it intentional? Not telling me? Because it's classified, or your job, or—"
"There are details I can't share. But, we were conditioned. To keep information about ourselves, the mission. Close." He shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "It's a bad excuse. But I—" He shrugged his shoulders. "In all fairness, I didn't expect…."
"Didn't expect, what, Heero?"
"If you were just an acquaintance, it wouldn't matter. Would it?"
"Hm. Your soft and squishy side is showing." She stood on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Heero covered her mouth with his; his arms wound around her. He pressed her body against him. Into him. The melody began again - the notes hitting between sweet and a driving, steady beat.
When a certain part of his anatomy started making demands, he released her.
"I don't want to avoid you." She lingered in his embrace.
"Good. Now, leave before I get to the point where I can't let you." He held his arms at his sides.
"Can't let me—" Relena stopped; she blinked. "Ah. Got it." She gave him a quick kiss and rushed out the door.
End Note:
*Heero would have technically spent time at both Parris Island (S Carolina) and Camp Lejeune (N Carolina) during his time in the Marines. Just an FYI.
