Disclaimer: I own nothing of GS/GSD. R&R Please.

Chapter 25

The minute they left Kira's residence, Leon looking a bit lost now that his newest playmate was going off; Cagalli turned to Athrun and said furiously, "That went well!"

"I thought it did," he said smilingly and mockingly, reversing out of the way and driving off while waving a bit to Kira. The bodyguards had been instructed to head back the headquarters until the schedule called for them, Athrun Zala was perfectly able to protect himself and her if necessary.

"No," Cagalli shot back, upset, "I mean it went swimmingly badly!"

"Which bit?" He asked infuriatingly, concentrating on the road ahead even though he would have liked to stare at her chest, heaving slightly in her rage. Of course she didn't notice.

"Everything!" She cried, grabbing a fistful of her golden hair and looking as if she were threatening to pull it out forcefully, "Everything! And it's your fault!"

"Really?" He said carefully, lancing the boil accurately, "I never noticed."

She pulled a fistful of her hair in her hands and chewed her lip, biting them white first, then pink, and something coiled and sprung in him, almost with a twang he could hear, and he pulled into an unused slot where nobody would see into the darkened windows or hustle them to move the car along. And he let go of the steering wheel and turned to Cagalli who looked like she was ready to kill something, probably him.

"If you want your hair pulled and your lips bitten," He said in a low voice, "Let me do it."

He seized her hungrily, barely hearing her gasp of surprise and proceeded to run his hands through her hair, running his fingers in it and busily capturing her lips with his own and biting slightly the way he had promised to, teasing her lower lip and fighting for control. She was mewling in distress and trying to avoid his lips, but it was a feat in the constraint and difficult to strain against her own will. Struggling with her slightly, he snarled and managed to push away her hair and reached the area shielded behind the tip of her ear, and pressed his lips to it in a frenzy of possesiveness, and she stiffened and then quietened like a charm. And slowly, his touch morphed into a less insane, less frenzied burning and softened into a languorous sort of want, and yet, all the same, it was dangerous. But he let go as soon as she was ready to respond, and she turned her head away so he wouldn't see what her eyes held. He could have laughed with triumph, she was as proud as always.

"Come now," He said persuasively, unimaginably soft but so clearly that she shivered, his voice was produced in her blood, "You know what you felt."

"I don't," She retorted rebelliously, barely noticing him straightening back and adjusting the belt for them to return to their journey. She had to clamp her lips together to keep from panting and she was uncomfortably aware that he knew this.

"If you say so," he said derisively, "It's like you to deny things."

"Are you calling me a coward?" She said, flaring up immediately. Her eyes were narrowed like a cat's and he would have liked to lean closer again, but knew inside that they both could not afford a gamble with stakes as high as that.

He paused and looked at her flashing amber eyes and swollen lips, admiring his handiwork in silence, "No. You're only delusional."

"I am not," She insisted, even though she knew he was probably right, all those nights of trying to forget and the times when she had ached to try and stop missing him. Those hadn't worked, but she had still fought on, hadn't she?

"If you say so," he repeated listlessly, "And now, where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere's fine," she said hatefully and with childish pique, "As long as you're not being too aggravating."

He ignored her last remark, he was too old, wise and scarred by the pains she had wrought onto him to take heed to her, and drove them to the city square where they alighted. When he opened the door for her, she marched out without looking at him, and he smiled wanly to himself. Just like her to be defensive when she didn't know what to do with herself. He knew her very well, Athrun realised, except for the one time he had made a fatal mistake and the wrong judgment.

People stared as they walked the streets in silence, and then he suddenly took ahold of her hand and she fought silently to free it and when she failed, she hissed, "Let go! We've separated, haven't we?"

Some schoolgirls stopped to point and titter, like birds that had gotten hold of a juicy worm of gossip. He caught strains of distant, ignorant words like 'fairytale,', 'Princess and knight,' and he felt almost bitter. But not quite.

"To the people we haven't," He answered back quietly, and smiled cordially at a passerby who stared in awe at them.

'And not to me.'

He eventually felt her hand relax in his although he highly doubted that would have been the case if his last thought had been verbalized. She was stubborn, had a streak of pride and overbearing responsibility for all decisions she made, and he knew exactly why. He would never forgive her for that. He felt like punishing her for it, but her discomfort would only lead to his. Cagalli may never have realised this, but he had, a long time ago.

When he had been cold to her and marched off without much of a word when he had sneaked off from the Archangel to meet Kira, her and Mirallia, his heart had ached at the sight of her wide eyes and blush, both he had forgone, too angered by her betrayal and marriage to Yuna. She had stared at his retreating back, but he hadn't turned around to forgive her, he hadn't even wanted to give her an opportunity to apologise for her betrayal. And then he had been snappish with almost everyone for the rest of the day. And now-

"We're a normal couple out on the streets," he recited calmly to her, knowing only she would be able to hear him, "I'm Athrun Zala and you're my wife. Keep with it."

"Easy for you to say," She scowled very quietly, "You know what the people here are like, they ogle at you because you're well-known and you're used to staging this."

"You should be too," he said in amusement, right into her ear, enjoying her silent squirming and the tenseness he measured with the tightness in her arm, "You're not exactly not famous, being the Supreme Commander of ORB and all. I can bet you, the only reason why the crowds don't really bother us is because they think there are bodyguards hidden somewhere behind us at this stage. And remember the appearance of the gun a few years back then?"

"Thornier," she whispered to him, and he smiled and replied quietly, "Yes, well, the public is likely to assume that both of us would have stepped up on security after that sort of incident, and we have, just that we're relying on that assumption to make them think there are bodyguards hiding in the crowd to trail after us, which is entirely not true at this point."

In spite of herself and the man she was supposed to be distanced from, Cagalli found herself smiling at him. He was too wonderful a companion, she supposed, witty and intelligent. It was his fault, she told herself sternly.

He was strangely silent after that, just holding her hand and walking quietly by her side.

'What I wouldn't I give for us to stay-," She started to think, but shook her head hurriedly, the danger signals were going off in her head, spinning very quickly.

Athrun watched her quietly, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she answered speedily, "I just wondered which hotel Kisaka arranged for me tonight."

"None," Athrun said leisurely, passing by a newspaper stand and staring at a picture of the theatre and behemoth hall the event would be held in a day from then, "I told him we had a house in December."

Flashes of the portraits hanging on the walls, their eyes cold and their expressions haughty, nary a smile, Patrick Zala staring at her with something like disdain in his eyes, the room she was in, the bed with her blood on it, the phone she was holding in her hands before she cried and fainted, and voices she didn't recognise, people lifting her body, a mass of moving pain, onto something she knew was a stretcher-

"You did?" She echoed in dismay, not seeing what he was staring at, "But I-,"

"Bear with it," he said quietly, holding her hand between them and looking at her, "It belongs to you, you don't have to sleep in that room anymore, and I've prepared the others, all, in fact, so you'll choose anyone you want."

She nodded, understanding. It would have been hell to nestle in a bed she had lost her child to, to recall the haze and the blood and the pain. Anything but that room.

And Cagalli suddenly thought of something. If Athrun had done this to fool Kisaka as well, then-

"Are you coming with me?" She asked shyly, not really looking at Athrun anymore.

His eyes widened momentarily, but he recovered and answered steadily enough, "The house belongs to you."

"It doesn't," she said, not understanding what he meant.

"When we married," he explained quietly, "I transferred the rights to you, don't you recall?"

A flash of memory, he handing her something to sign while she was ruffled and not quite knowing what he was up to, and then he smiling and telling her it was hers-

"No," she said, horrified at the thought of her robbing him of his rightful things, "I don't, I can't have it, I-,"

"Even when we are officially apart," he said evenly, and a pang of regret hit him hard, "I want you to hold onto it."

And he refused to hear otherwise.

In the end, she turned to him and told him reluctantly, "Won't you come?

"I will if you invite me," he said politely, but with a hint of teasing and suggestiveness in his voice. His green eyes were slightly shielded by his lashes, and she thought of something and blushed angrily, irritated with him and herself.

But he was waiting, and forgetting her reservations, she nodded eagerly and then remembered her resolution and ended up saying hesitantly, "But this is only for the- the pretence."

"I know," he said soberly. The moment was lost again, but it was for the better, Cagalli thought decidedly.

All the same, when they reached the house in December with a few of their belongings, just enough for one night, a delicious thrill ran through the air. The house was airy, beautiful and well-cleaned, Cagalli noticed, so Athrun had gotten efficient managers of the property then.

She avoided a certain corridor, and Athrun knew the pain that went though her, because he felt it in him as well. But he was good to decline comment until she had selected a room for a stay in the night and he had done the same, a separate one.

The unspoken regret hung heavily in the air, but they had to leave it at that. Being on talking terms was something good enough for now, Athrun tried to say to himself, but all the same, the hollowness was painful.

They settled in front of the garden, not courageous enough to go out into the sun, but not homely enough to hide in a totally shaded area, therefore compromising by stretching their feet out into the warmth while the rest of them hid under the shade of a large red brick roof.

He observed her, taking in her face and features. She had taken off her uniform jacket to reveal a simple white cotton shirt underneath, admittedly form-fitting and hugging her a certain way, suddenly transforming her into a less intimidating presence now that she was in a simple shirt and a navy skirt of the uniform without her dark grey stockings, those rolled up, deposited in her heels and her heels wantonly thrown at the side, almost as if he had taken them off and thrown them carelessly to a side himself. She would have worn pants, she thought regretfully, but Kisaka had been in charge of the packing and he had casually left out some things. She would have to speak to him later.

And so she did not notice Athrun or what his eyes held, her own eyes comfortably closed as she enjoyed the breeze, Athrun observing her. And when she finally opened her eyes, he immediately raked them over something else.

"How's Meyrin?" She asked pleasantly enough, fully aware that they lived in the same vicinity, for Lacus had told her this and Cagalli herself had arranged for this right after the Second War.

"Good," Athrun said evenly, sitting in one of the fine old chairs as she curled up in another, "She's grown up since the last time I saw her, probably has all the men at work fighting to date her or something."

"Batholomew Robin?" Cagalli asked mischievously, recalling the freshly-scrubbed face of the young ambassador who was also Meyrin's superior. He had came to ORB once to deal with some administrative issues, and Kisaka had liked him immensely, 'Silly young pup' or not. He was genuinely kind and very spirited; Cagalli thought fondly, she herself liked his style.

"No indication," Athrun chuckled, "She doesn't let on anything when we have dinner."

"You have dinner with Meyrin?" Cagalli asked in surprise, and something like envy stabbed through her, although she did not register this immediately. Athrun watched her carefully and said after a pause, "Almost every night since a month ago when she came back from East Eurasia and happened to find out I was living in the compound."

"I see," was all Cagalli could say.

"She's a very pretty girl," Athrun offered cautiously, thinking of what his words would mean at that point, and he was watching Cagalli's face carefully, "And capable too. In fact, she's involved a lot with the event tomorrow since it's her department heading it, and she comes over to chat when we do work we brought back."

"That's good," Cagalli said with as much control as she could muster.

"Er," She continued hastily, trying to wipe her clammy palms inconspicuously behind her, "Do you like her?"

"Obviously," he replied in pretend surprise, "She's kind and quite unlike Lunamaria, who's very unpredictable, with Meyrin there's some calm in the place."

He watched her struggle with herself, feeling highly guilty at what he had led her to feel, but all the same, mightily pleased with her reaction. And he grinned and added on impassively, "She stayed over once when she had a fever; her flat mate was creating too much of a ruckus, and she was very sick then. So I gave her a few pills and she slept until the next morning."

"That's good," Cagalli said with some fake relief, "I was worried that-,"

He paused abruptly at her disability and asked, suddenly aware of something amiss, "How did you know she lived in the vicinity anyway? I don't ever recall telling you that even after the Second War."

She glanced at him and offered bravely, "I asked Lacus to give her a home after the Second War, and since she was your assistant then, I thought it'd be best if she lived near you, temporary housing or not. Besides, you were chairman of ETERNITY by then, and Meyrin defected in the war, so a bit of string-pulling would have helped."

He listened carefully, and grew tense.

"Do you mean to say," Athrun asked, his brow darkening, "That you knowingly arranged for Meyrin Hawke to be as near me as possible?"

"Athrun!" Cagalli exclaimed in distress, "Think of what you're saying!"

"Stop it," he demanded fiercely, "You know I'm not putting Meyrin Hawke down, I just want to know if even now, where I'm staying, was arranged for with the knowledge that Meyrin would be there to keep me company?"

She looked elsewhere until he shook her, demanding with his eyes.

"Yes," Cagalli admitted finally, "I was relieved to know that even when you left from ORB half a year ago, Meyrin would be near you. She's in love with you, Athrun," she said, looking at him mutely, "And she's always been."

"I suspected that but I've been ignoring it for forever," Athrun said, deathly grave, "I never imagined you would have done this to me."

His eyes were slits of emerald. And she shivered a little.

"I did nothing wrong," Cagalli insisted, pulling away, "At least she'll be good for you and you'll be happier when-,"

"Listen," he said angrily, forcing her to look at him in the face, "I'd hurt her more by letting her too near me, and you'd be at fault for that, you hear? She doesn't deserve something like that, and neither do you, so don't think of replacements for yourself."

She nodded mutely, shaken by his anger and denial that he could accept Meyrin.

"In any case," Athrun said finally, his voice was tight with a dark rage and his eyes were blackened, "You can force me to leave you but you cannot force me to be with another."

She turned away and asked insolently, "What if I choose to be with another?"

His breath hitched, and she wondered why she'd even asked a question like that. It was physically impossible and entirely ridiculous, but she had shot off with her mouth and asked the impossible anyway.

There was a long silence and she looked at him. His eyes were closed as if he couldn't bear to let her see what lay in them, and his mouth was a line of pain. She immediately regretted what she'd said, she opened her mouth and offered awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say-,"

"I'd kill him," Athrun interrupted, sorrow erupting in his voice and his body, even in the hands that were upon her shoulders, "I'd kill him for both of us."

And she could tolerate the pain she was causing him no longer and sprang out of the chair, hugging him entirely as a mother who had wronged her child would, saying sincerely, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I asked that question."

His arms were slowly, luxuriously encircling her back and then drifting down to her waist, and Cagalli told him, "I never imagined anything like that, I just, I don't know what happened."

"It's fine," he assured her, suddenly forgetting that they weren't supposed to be like this, weren't supposed to be so close and so physically comforting to each other, "I didn't expect a question like that either, I-,"

He trailed off helplessly, and then she let go of him and sat back down, suddenly exhausted. He had collapsed into his own chair, looking at her but not really looking, and his mouth was still filled with pain. Her hands wanted to touch his lips to see if she could take it away, but she out them quickly in her pockets and shook her head to herself.

"We'll be fine even like this," she said firmly, "We'll be fine, you'll see. Like this, it's enough for both of us."

He nodded wanly, but all the same, he repeated with something like hatred to himself, "It isn't enough."

They spent the rest of the day resting and lounging, sprawled around the house, Athrun fixing a haro that Lacus claimed was going insane in its ripe old age, and Cagalli reading. The silence was a bit awkward even when the haro was well recovered enough to start telling Athrun off for being so careless with it in its loud, chirping voice, and Cagalli avoided him and eventually hid and cooped herself in the room she had previously chosen. And when evening came, he somehow managed to cook their dinner although he was none too skilled at cooking and neither was she, but she helped gratefully and took on whatever he needed help in. It was déjà vu, doing what they hadn't done for nearly more than half a year.

And they ate in silence and when they had both finished their showers and met each other coming out from the opposite ones, she reddened immensely and retreated quickly, muttering about leaving something back there. And he remained silent as he calmly dried off the droplets of water that remained on his bare chest.

When nightfall came, he laughed at the pajamas Lacus had loaned her once but eventually gave to her, very pale pink and strangely, with plump dragons breathing orange flames printed everywhere, and she scowled and he thought to himself how much he had missed her. The book he had been reading fell from his hands to his lap as he took in every detail of her, from her tiny feet in soft slippers to the fine golden lashes that framed liquid amber.

"Cagalli," He began awkwardly, "I feel as if-,"

"I'm tired," She cut in hurriedly, her eyes darting all over the place and she looked queer standing in front of his chair in those pajamas, and not being able to look at him properly, "I'll, 'll go and-,"

She trailed off and managed an awkward goodnight to him and left quickly, but he stayed up a little while more to read a book, and then when he finally grew tired, he got up very slowly, almost as if his bones ached, and set it down gently, then moved up the stairs, pausing outside her room, just listening, just hearing her breathe. And his feet dragged him to his own room, and frustrated, he sat down achingly carefully and then laid his body down completely, thinking vague thoughts and dreaming this time, of orange flames that licked and caressed his face and fingers.