Disclaimer: I do not own GS/GSD. R&R please.

Chapter 28

Shinn was lounging around the corner, talking to a group of his friends, all of them looking splendid and very well-turned out for the night. He spotted Meyrin talking to some people he vaguely recognized as politicians' assistants and a few of themselves hanging around her, and most of them were looking admirably at Meyrin. Grinning widely, he shouted, "Hey! Kiddo!"

She turned around, spotted the offender and flashed him a brilliant smile and waved cheerily, and he did the same. They had always been good friends, even at the point when Shinn had lost his head and once tried to convince her to fall in love with him. But she refused to, she would just laugh and tell him he was a riot, albeit one that she enjoyed being with. And then he found, suddenly and very unexpectedly one day, that he had taken her rejection in his stride a very long time ago, that he had only been fooling around with her, that is, if they had even started a relationship or not. And at that time, to Shinn, girls were there for company, not actual beings, more the transient, fleeting folly-makers that should not have interferred with his goals. And when war started, he never thought of anything but his immediate survival and the lust for revenge, and that had been all consuming.

"Who's that?" his friend asked, and Youlant glanced at Shinn with a sardonic smile in his eyes, chuckled and said slowly, "She's out of your league."

And then Shinn glanced around the dance halls where the orchestra was now weaving its symphony on the looms of strings, brasses and woodwinds, and he spotted familiar faces, the ghosts of the people he had loved and had wanted to protect.

He could imagine Chairman Dullindal, his flashing, ready smile illuminating his eyes and his dark hair enigmatic about his pointed, good-looking features, and Captain Gladys, at ease with the world as she often was, somehow free from the duties she had quietly burdened for so long, dancing and laughing the way so few had heard her do. Rey was standing by the side, quiet and handsome, regal but somehow apart from the rest of them, but he looked silently at Shinn and smiled. Shinn smiled back.

The honourable ORB warrior, the captain who had saved him, how much Shinn wanted to run to him and ask to be forgiven. Instead, he smiled to the distant ghosts, the past, if he went to them, they would surely disappear...

And Stellar, how lovely a child she had been. Her demented nature had taken him by shock once, but he knew, without Athrun's confirmation, that the best in her had been brought out by none other than Shinn himself. The dimmed lights in the hall were illuminating her golden hair, pale and lovely, and there was a wistful smile as she danced alone, the way she had, free-spirited and unposessed by any man, except for the one demon, war. And now she was unbound from that, she pirouetted and smiled at Shinn, and he closed his eyes briefly, lost in his own world as the colourful menagerie of people around him chattered on and lost themselves to the frivolities of the music and dance. And when he opened them again, they were all gone, all those ghosts of the past.

I never thought Death had so many undone.

His eyes however, fell on a live, breathing human being, and with a shock that jolted through his entire body, making his knees tingle a little, he realised with some fear, that it was the very human he had sought to hurt, consciously, and had most probably managed to. She was dancing, laughing at her partner's joke, and the grey of her down and the white of her breast, made even more pure by the chains on her arms made Shinn stare, a long time and for the long minutes of a long moment, at Cagalli Yula Atha.

There were hundreds of couples dancing on the floor, many more being led there by their partners and there was laughter and smiles, the general buzz of light conversation everywhere even as they waltzed. Of course, Shinn thought ruefully, not everyone knew how to waltz, but that didn't matter as much as not having a partner. Lunamaria was in another man's arms, but he realised with a little of what seemed like regret, that he didn't quite care.

"Hey, Meyrin!" He called loudly over the area, and scarcely anyone noticed except her and the group of people she was with because the hall was so immensely filled, although not congested. "Care for a dance?"

"I would, with you," She laughed, and he swiftly strode over, grabbed her hand, and swirled her directly amidst the many couples. Most of them, he didn't recognize, but there were some friends amongst them who shot him envious looks, not quite realizing that Meyrin Hawke was a girl and his friend but unfortunately or fortunately not his girlfriend.

"They're glaring," He offered snidely when she fixed her questioning azure gaze on his dull red eyes, bright though, in his mannerisms and reflected in her own.

She smiled slyly, bringing him closer to avoid the trouble of his companions asking for dances later, and said softly, "Imagine, you've kissed both the Hawke sisters. I wonder what your associates would say. Or rather, do."

The answer lay mischieviously in her eyes and the air. And Shinn imagined a black eye or two.

"Touché," he chuckled.

They waltzed a bit more, and his eyes wandered to the other couples. He spotted the Commander Joule at the far end, and his eyes widened, he was recalling the unit that had singularly slashed through unit after unit of the enemy's side in a bid to segregate the pieces of the falling memorial Junius Seven had been. The man, tall and striking, was smiling quite pleasantly, similar to the Major on his arm, and subsequently nodding graciously to the PLANT leaders who acknowledged them as they moved by.

"Hell's going to freeze over," Shinn muttered, and Meyrin didn't catch it, but asked politely, "Sorry, I didn't hear that properly, want to repeat it?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, his eyes darting like fishes in water, "I say," he exclaimed, spotting another familiar face, "Is Athrun there?"

The couples were a blinding renaissance of colour, fabrics and faces, and each time they took a step, the couples around them shifted, shuffled and some completely vanished into a different part of the behemoth room altogether.

"Oh," Meyrin said, turning slightly so she could see as they twisted a bit for a better view, "Yes, you're absolutely correct, and that's Cagalli he's dancing with, obviously."

He could see this now, and clearly too. Oh, Shinn could see very clearly, the girl, no woman, he had despised without quite knowing why, and the same woman he was now openly staring at, feeling a stir of something he knew to not be hatred but regret and something else that he could not quite identify entirely.

Meyrin, innocent and guiless, grinned at his sincerity, his signature child-like ways but depth in his actions, even his handsome, boyish face held some knowing look when she had been caught searching for Athrun Zala's information on the Minerva data base.

"Cagalli's his, and he, without saying it, wants to prove this to the rest of the world," she explained briefly, twirling like the rest of the couples and continuing the sequence, not well-trained, but sharp enough to imitate the women around her, "She's very beautiful," Meyrin added wistfully, "And they deserve each other."

He grinned, knowing what her heart felt, but gratefully did not say anything more, and the stirring of the strings, vibrant and spirited, signaled a change of partners. She spun into another man's ready arms and likewise, Shinn caught hold of a lady from EA's government.

"Later!" He called to her as they were both swept off, and Meyrin mock-saluted back with one hand, the other already taken by her dancing partner's hand.

Meanwhile, Cagalli, absolutely clueless on the ongoing conversation at the extreme end of the hall where Shinn and Meyrin had been, was listlessly being steered by the PLANT Research and Development Board's head. He was a nice man, no doubt, eager to make conversation and highly animated, talking with a slight bounce in his step and an expert dancer. It was easy to smile, be courteous, and give half-hearted answers. And she started to regret her decision of avoiding Athrun straight after the dancing had begun, she'd started with Kira, Lacus engaged with a member of her parliament, and he'd exchanged her for someone else and another, and then the last woman for Lacus, where he was still dancing with her.

"Like jumping on toadstools in a planned route to get to the flower," She thought amusedly. Her twin was a real handful.

And throughout the entire time, she was aware that Athrun's eyes were boring into her, no matter where he was in the place. She'd come dangerously close to being near to him when she had danced with the third man after Kira, the Deputy Head of Social Defense from PLANT, and he had almost let go of the lady he had been dancing with to make a wild snatch at her, but she'd somehow twirled, almost as gracefully as she did it unconsciously, and averted his grasp. And now, she was with another person, and he with another.

What she did not know, was that Athrun was charming every single woman he was dancing with and those around him were eager to step in when they had a switch of partners, and this was precisely his strategy. The females blushed each time he took them by the hand and waist very gallantly, and those around were more eager than ever for the next shuffle, and did not refuse to switch at any interval. He was like the centre of a kaleidoscope, moving each piece skillfully around him and switching each one to another region of the room, and he'd do this until he got to his goal.

"How old are you, Miss Atha?" The Head of Research and Development was asking her curiously.

She watched the woman behind him for a second, the jewels in her hair had been teasing her eyes, and distracted, she turned back to the man she was dancing with.

"Twenty-four this year," she answered unabashedly, and he gave a low, long whistle and replied admiringly, "Which means to say you took the reins of ORB when you were eighteen or nineteen! I must say, you were so young but so able and determined, golly. "

Her eyebrows raised and she found herself half-giggling at his enthusiasm and vibrant way of speaking, no doubt, the outfit of a minstrel suited him very much.

"I thank you for the compliment," she smiled, "And I heard you've broken a new frontier for the speed manipulation of general machines in Morgenroete?"

"You embarrass me," he chuckled, his hand on her waist begin to shake with his laughter, "I headed the project, but I had a team of nearly two-hundred, highly dedicated and intelligent researchers under me. They are truly more competent than I will ever be," and he gave her a very humble smile, and she found herself liking him even more.

"Erica has met you, yes?" Cagalli asked curiously, her feet never resting but constantly in motion and in line with his step. The couples around were engaging in conversations like hers, there were very little chances of them being able to concentrate on anybody else's but their own.

"Why, surely so!" The elderly man exclaimed his eyes bright, "She was invaluable to the research, and she mentioned you a few times, although not to me, but to some trainees she was trying to toughen up."

"Oh," Cagalli said cheerfully, "Must be the hours of simulations she was referring to."

They laughed, enjoying each other's company immensely and the moment, and then, all too soon, the couples were being shuffled again, and his hand was suddenly lifted off from her waist and the other unclasped from her left hand, and she was being whirled into another's arms, a person who had stepped right in and caught her, and she looked up and saw emerald. She had been far too distracted with her partner to notice the people around them, and now she would pay the price for not being on guard.

"Enjoying yourself?" Athrun asked dryly, his hand securely on her waist and the other waiting for her to respond. And she realized she had been so startled at the way her former partner had spun her off, that both hands were firmly atop Athrun's chest, and she mumbled something incoherently and reluctantly gave him one to hold as they began their waltz.

They danced in a sort of queer silence as the noise around them seemed to envelop into an orchestra of blinding colors, dazzling jewels and textures that threatened to fade everything into oblivion. And the black, white, and grey of both of them contrasted but complimented, and they seemed to be the lone thread in the tapestry that was left undyed.

"I er-think you look very handsome," she offered helplessly, fishing around to try and join back into the mood of the hall.

"I don't have to think," He responded lightly, looking the same but she could sense his pleasure, "I know you're beautiful."

"Oh," she said in warm surprise and her cheeks pink, quite forgetting this was part of the pretense and the attempt to blend into the cordial night of compliment-exchanging and warm smiles. Her heart fluttered at his words, and her hands shook slightly upon his arms when she knew his gaze, intense emerald, was upon her, like an ensnaring, terrible forest of posessive desire. And he looked at her with a soft triumph in his eyes, she had never learnt how to accept his compliments with fluid grace or dignity, instead, she lost her polish and became raw and uncovered for him. And he relished this now, as badly as he had in the past.

He paused to stare at her even though he kept their feet busy. He had been aware, all along, that she was reluctant to come too near him, and he was starting to know why. He was having the same, entirely identical reaction to her proximity, the only difference being that she denied it and he embraced it. And Athrun knew he was being a fool, this would potentially being havoc to their entire lineup and wreck him again, more than he already was, but he could scarcely help it.

"Remember the last time we danced?" Cagalli asked in a low voice.

He remembered. Of course he did. The way her eyes had been narrowed amber, the look of anger in her flushed face and rosy cheeks when he had forced her to, and the defiant tilt of her delicate jaw, all that haunted him at night, pursued him in his dreams, how could he not?

She was waiting for an answer. "Yes," He replied simply.

"I-I didn't mean for it to become like that," Cagalli offered awkwardly, not quite sure of how to apologies, but the dance they were engaged in, it spurred so many memories and so few good ones that she felt like she had to undo some unseen knot.

"You've always been rebellious," Athrun interrupted emotionlessly, twirling her and mutely knowing that her gown was swishing against him darkly like a veil across some perilous secret her body held, "I know you to be that."

So he had prevented her from apologizing, in this way doing what she had wanted to do- say she was sorry. And he had done that in his own way, what more could she offer?

"Thank you," she said gratefully and very quietly, he however, simply remained impassive but she knew he smiled when they made a turn while the orchestra played on.

"When this is over," Cagalli said eventually, wondering what it would feel like to have the weight of his hand on her waist removed, the fingers locked in the partitions of her own hand unlocked, and his emerald eyes far apart from the gaze of her own eyes, "I hope we will always be able to talk to each other like this."

He had imagined, for just a second of wild, unimaginable hope, that she had meant the dance, and he was bitterly disappointed. But he hid it well and smiled wanly, not caring to reply, however.

When they vaguely noticed that the couples around them were disintegrating and reforming in different pairs, she inhaled deeply, as if this was the last time she would ever be so close to him, to sense him, to feel him, to know him, and let go of his hand and lifted her other hand off his shoulder.

Another man was standing by, ready to hold her once Athrun let go for another dance, and she closed her eyes tightly and waited, knowing that this was a start of something she had brought upon themselves, and the end of something she had wanted to so badly. But then, the weight of his hand on her waist never lifted, and his free hand suddenly wrapped itself around her waist, joining his other hand, and she was immediately pressed very close to him, almost an embrace, but not quite, and startled, her hands flew to his shoulders for support.

"Er, Chairman?" the person who was waiting inquired a bit curiously.

"My apologies to disappoint you, sir," Athrun said calmly, almost as if he had expected this, "I won't be changing my dance partner for this whole evening. But you understand, of course, and if you'll excuse us." He gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and the 'excuse us' would have been more accurately said as 'excuse you'.

The man backed away, muttering, "I understand."

They watched him resume dancing with his previous partner, and they did the same too, although this was mostly Athrun's doing, and when Cagalli managed to find her tongue, she was flustered.

"Why'd you do that?" She cried in a hushed whisper.

"You're still mine for the rest of the evening," He told her in the same level of volume she'd used, quite unconscious of the fierce expression in his eyes and voice, "And you need to keep that in mind."

It was useless trying to argue, she realized, his hands were firmly planted, and if she struggled, that'd be unnatural and somehow, she found that she wanted to be there. Her arms found their way to his shoulders, and he relaxed a little, losing some tension both of them had shared, and the moment was complete.

Shinn, at the other end of the room, saw this, although he couldn't hear what the exchange had been. And somehow, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry," Athrun whispered a while later, although he knew a fragment of the fit of posessiveness that had overcome him mere minutes ago still remained in his chest even while Athrun still directed their feet in a slow movement, "I'm being such a prize mutt."

She looked at him with distrust in her eyes, but he looked back at her with such contrite sincerity that she found herself relaxing into him.

"It's alright," Cagalli replied, suddenly not minding at all, "It's not like you to be cold or impolite, and you weren't exactly any of those anyway, I know you were just trying to keep us in the right frames."

She did not mention, however, that he was known to be both cold and impolite, and quite well-practised in this manner, in fact.

He refrained from comment, but inside, he knew that his cold, impolite demeanor was never really displayed for her; he was always just Athrun for her, always. And what had made him so possessive over her? He asked himself this as they quietly moved amidst the rest, and then he knew. The selfishness of not wanting to share any part of her when all he had was less than a night left, and the knowledge of what would happen if he allowed this dance to end along with the charade.

At the end of the night, when the event was officially at its end and the guests were milling put, still graceful and immaculately dressed with the crowds of photographers and media hounds surrounding them and swarming for interviews and such, Athrun silently led Cagalli out.

A host of reporters swarmed up to them, and he imagined they would ask about the events they had enjoyed and the most titillating aspect of the night. He prepared himself and knew she was doing the same, the slight stiffening of her shoulders, the careful steps she took, those he recognized entirely.

"Chairman," one asked wildly, "What was it about tonight's glamorous event that you enjoyed best?"

He considered everything but looked at Cagalli, silent and smiling next to him, and answered readily, "Being with her."

There were gasps of admiration and coos here and there, but the good thing was that the other guests, or at least, the more high-profile ones, were being engaged in similar activities and interviews of various leading newspapers in PLANT.

"Wonderful," another remarked, scribbling furiously, "And Miss Atha?"

She smiled, a strange, sweet, shy smile they had never seen, and they were spellbound when she answered, "Seeing everyone again."

It wasn't quite the answer they would have expected, especially after Athrun had given his, but her smile more than made them forget what she was saying, they were staring at her, enraptured, until one began to write and there was a flurry of activity all over again.

"If that's it," Athrun began to say politely, "Then we're going to-,"

"No, wait," one rat-faced, very tall reporter interrupted, "The citizens of PLANT want to know if the Chairman Zala and the ORB Supreme Commander have been experiencing marital problems."

There was an audible gasp from the rest of the reporters, and suddenly, it was tense and every reporter even some guests had stopped replying to the reporters and were turning around, almost as if they hadn't been listening to whatever they were engaged in previously, just waiting, Athrun thought dully, waiting like hyenas to pounce.

Cagalli had grown wan and pale, and her eyes were narrowed in distrust and some apprehension. He was suddenly enraged, he would never have a reporter ruining everything they had shared tonight, bringing down everything he wanted to keep of her, demeaning every last drop of happiness and complete bliss he remembered with an ugly scar of an interrogation neither of them wanted to have. The question would force them to drop the charade, edge them into revealing what she was still not ready to reveal, and neither was he. If only they had left before all this, Athrun thought angrily, then the chance of having her entirely to him for the memories that she meant to him would have been there.

They hadn't planned for this.

"Look," He said, unimaginably angered, and the reporters shrank and flinched; they hadn't seen him in a cold raging anger like this ever before, "You're pushing the boundary and I have absolutely no incentive to pursue this anymore than filing a direct lawsuit. If need be, the consequences can be as-,"

"There's never been a moment," Cagalli interrupted abruptly, her eyes fixated on the offending reporter, and the rest were suddenly busy with their papers and pencils again, and the cameras blinking and recording what she was saying, "There's never been a moment when I haven't loved the Chairman."

She stared at them fiercely and then, as if whatever had possessed her had taken leave of her body, her head slumped down and she glanced at her feet, willing her legs not to become unstable.

A silence filled the area, and some people began to applaud, but another reporter piped up, "Then why was there a sudden need to rush to PLANT and the lack of any contact during the past half year or even seven months now?"

Athrun wanted to speak, he wasn't prepared for this, but he knew he'd fight for them, he'd fight for her, but she faced them all, suddenly, this was her battle and she was prepared to take them down, every single damned one of them.

"I told him to," Cagalli answered roughly, no longer polished and composed but passionate and wild, "If PLANT wants him to oversee this, he must do it as best as he can, and I wanted him to stay but I knew he'd be needed."

"You're very honorable, Princess," one spoke up loudly, and a stab of cold dread hit her in her gut. Lies, all lies.

"T hank you," she said finally, "And if that's all, we'll leave it at that."

She raised her hand in acknowledgement and a new pit of fear and self-loathing seeped into her as the ring Athrun had placed on her finger for that evening glinted brilliantly and caught the light and the attention of many.

"Last question," someone at the back shouted, "When will Chairman Zala return to ORB?"

"That's for PLANT's High Council to decide," Athrun spoke up firmly, his eyes cold. He took her by the hand and led her away to rapturous applause. Lacus looked pleased and Kira silently proud but his eyes were a bit distant, as if he was thinking very hard, and it made Athrun want to wretch at the betrayal of trust.

A pack of lies they had both told, and now they were caught in it, hopelessly raveled in the implications of what they had tried to do for just this night and this one time.

When they reached the house in December, it was half an hour past midnight and she had removed the sword, mail gloves and chains, he with his own sword and his heavy cloak, to Du Maurier's assistants back in Aprilius to facilitate the traveling. They'd been silent again.

She had gotten into a bathroom and washed the light makeup off her face, now her lips were less red and more rose, and he'd similarly brushed his teeth and washed his face.

But they didn't turn in, they both ended up sitting where they'd sat, a day ago, in the sweltering afternoon heat, the difference being that they were cloaked in the night, brilliant stars, more dazzling and heartbreakingly beautiful than any of the jewels anyone had worn that night, and in their pajamas. Hers were soft flannel and he wore his normal shirt and light pants, and they gazed at the heavens but did not speak for a very long time.

They had faced two decisions at the onslaught of the interrogations. The first, to reveal what they had gone through and allow the truth to be told that they would be apart shortly after this, thereby cutting short his happiness of the night and rendering them officially apart.

The second, to vehemently deny things and prolong the night's peaceful languor but end up suffering in silence and the cloak of lies that would become thicker and more enveloping.

They'd chosen the second.

And finally, she spoke.

"I'll leave in the morning and we'll see what the future holds for us."

Her words were roaring in his ears and he gripped the chair's arm and felt as numb as he had when he had killed his first man and came out from a daze with his throat raw from screaming with terror.

"Don't be ridiculous," he wanted to spit at her, "There's nothing if I don't have-,"

"-You truly believe so?" Athrun responded lightly, tracing the arm of the chair he had only just vacated. How contrary his voice was to his emotions. He thought this dully and found he could not meet her eyes.

"I do," she said without hesitation, "It's for the better, and the only thing we have to remember is that one day we'll be ready to tell the truth to the world and the other is of the good memories we had."

She suddenly sprang out from her chair and rashly cuddled against him like a cat that was yearning for a pat on its head, and he fought the urge to touch her, but thankfully, the torment stopped an instant later as she stared at him and said gently, "Thank you for everything, I'm truly indebted."

'If you are,' he thought tightly, 'Don't go.'

"My pleasure," He replied calmly, and she grinned at him.

How could she be so cruel?

How could be so mute like this?

And Athrun wondered if she could even sense the pain his body was being washed upon with, but he glanced at the darkness in the distance and nodded dully and briefly to show that he had understood her words.

She stood and moved slightly closer to him, and then she tiptoed and kissed him lightly on the cheek, careful not to look into his eyes or put her arms around his neck. He would have liked either, he would have liked to break through the restraint of his will to place his hands on her, at the small of her back, at the nape of her white neck, to ravish her lips senseless and to hold her, just hold her, but he couldn't have anything more than this, and he couldn't have her in any case.

"Goodnight," she said finally, smiling with trust and a childlike innocence in her eyes, and he nodded, too wracked with pain to speak. He could not trust himself to articulate, and he promised himself that he would never take advantage of that trust.