Hey-o, and welcome to my Lil' World of Weirdness!!

I state for the record that I don't own Gundam Wing, or the wonderful characters that will be gracing this story. . . I do however lay claim to Ensign Saratone *again*, and I use him here purely as a replacement for your average Nameless OZ Minion. Other Characters I lay claim to are Faye Bloom, the wizened old man, Chang Xiao Fao Lan, and the Angels.

Let's just say . . . when my writer's block breaks, it's like a dam breaking . . . [shakes head slowly and winces]

Parings: 1x2x1, 3x4x3 . . .. Eh, heh, not that anyone reads up here, but I realised I'm giving away certain parts of my story with these!!

Okay, that's the legal stuff out the way!!

Please ENJOY AND PLEASE R&R!!! THANK YOU!!

Also, thanks to my beloved Bluegoo for her ever wonderful betareading, I thank her for the many hours that she has put in with me on this one, be it correcting my terrible grammar and spelling, or listening to me mumbling large chunks of it down the phone to her . . . You're great, Blue!! Even if you are Commander and Chief of the Apostrophe Gestapo . . . [ducks and runs off, screaming over shoulder] GO READ AND REVIEW HER STORIES!!

Thank you to Two-Mix for the lyrics, I don't own Just Communication!!

//Thinking//

"Speaking"

*Stress/Emphasis*

Writing/Dream sequence

Telepathic thoughts

:: Lyrics ::

~*~

For The Grace Of Knights And Angels

By Doctor Megalomania

Commence

"Will they come?"

Death glanced back from the huge window, as the night began to sweep in. Candlelight bathed her, making her silver chains sparkle, her pale skin almost have colour. The other four angels looked up at her, the Warrior the only to answer her question.

"Of course they will." The Warrior looked out with blood red eyes, and ran a hand impatiently through short scarlet and orange hair.  "They don't have a choice."

"But times have changed." Mercy straightened and paced slowly to the window. He glanced up at the tallest, Beast. The green being frowned furiously, as he darkly observed, "For better or worse, we shall find out."

"You are too harsh on humans;" Time stretched out on the bed, her long golden hair coiling around her. "Perhaps this war was indeed the last."

"We shall find out."

"It is pointless to argue with him, he is of one mind." The Warrior's flame coloured hair flickered slightly in the firelight, "One stubborn view."

"I seem to remember humans are proud, stubborn creatures." Beast's lip curled slightly as he scowled out the window, "They crawl around this earth with the idea that they are superior in every way, when in fact the small drop of a plant's poison could kill them."

"In any case, they haven't got a choice whether they come or not." Mercy sighed and returned to his desk, "The Dark Chi is upon them; they must come if they want to survive."

Time chuckled lightly, the amber charms in her hair on their golden chains tinkling lightly as she tilted her head, "And all humans have the basic will to live, don't you think?"

Beast sighed and turned away from the window. He paused before he knelt by Time's bed, and leant his head on its soft cushioning. He closed his eyes, as she threaded her hands in his dark locks.

"Perhaps."

Arch Two: Magic Stirring, Training Begins

Part Eleven: First Message

– Okay, I'm taking poetic license with Sister Helen and Father Maxwell's actual relationship. They could have been cousins; they could have just known each other. But I just think it would be nicer if they were blood related. [Mumbles on about the theme of Family being an on running theme in many of her stories and just general mutters about the injustice about Episode Zero failing to make the Anime.]
Warning: Author was listening to religious – i.e. Rain from Cowboy Bebop – sounding music while writing the following passage, hence the deep and meaningful descriptions. DrM wishes to confirm she is a non-practicing Catholic, and while having no belief in a god, has great respect for the beauty of this small Catholic Church down the road, the catholic religion and anyone's beliefs – except for morons that think 'We are right, therefore everyone else MUST be wrong', that kind of thinking leads to wars, people!

Also: [shudders] You happy blue? Not ONE Relena bashing comment . . . I'm actually nice to the little bitch!

//Beautiful.//

Duo stared at the stars, thinking about trying not to think. Sister Helen, his . . . a smile broke involuntarily, she was his mother. On paper, and always in his heart. He stared out the window, and gloried in the soft warm weight of her head leaning against his shoulder. Her strawberry blonde hair had been pulled out of its braid and he had finger combed it as she slept. He couldn't help it. It was almost like he had simply stepped back in time. Something he had desperately wished for, for the last few years. He closed his eyes, and willed away the unbidden images of Maxwell Church.

Stained glass littered everywhere.

It was something Father Maxwell – Sister Helen's eldest cousin from her mother's deeply catholic side – was distinctly proud of. And he was not being vain about it. The glass was beautiful, one of the most beautiful things Duo had ever seen man make. On a sunny day, shafts of multicoloured light filled the pews and the altar. Directly above the altar was one massive archway filled with it. Roses curled around the edge of a biblical scene, of the Virgin Mary cradling the Infant Prophet to her chest, and angels, whose mighty white wings protected them, surrounded her. The details were so fine, that Duo could vividly remember the stray feathers the artist had placed around the window. The church was poor, yes, but it was still strikingly beautiful.

The dark, smooth wood of the pews, and the altar's stern look was off set by the love and devotion of Father Maxwell, and Sister Helen. The Father was a tall man, old, but strong. His dark green eyes were so kind and soft, and his voice was deep and quiet. Duo suppressed a chuckle every time he thought about how Trowa might be when he was older. Would the clown grow up to be much like Father Maxwell? He shook his head, and sighed.

The church had a small garden, it wasn't much, but the grass was soft, and a weeping willow was set just out of reach of the parish's balcony. Father Maxwell's study was the room leading from the balcony, and he often stepped out to watch the children playing. If it wasn't for the constant smell of a dirty colony, and the constant threat of child-poachers – Duo had lost count of the children who simply disappeared from the small garden – the green garden, the warm parish, and the beautiful church would have been the most idyllic setting to grow up in.

When he had returned from stealing the mobile suit – a battered Class 1 Aries, with little capabilities and limited weaponry, wouldn't have been much use anyway – he come back to a smoking crater. The weeping willow was thrown to the ground, its limbs outstretched as if it was sobbing for the loss of its home of the past twenty years. The small garden was smouldering silently, flames still flickering, and dancing around, chasing after each other as they destroyed the last patches of green.

And then there was the church, and the parish.

The balcony Father Maxwell used to stand on benevolently had collapsed. The parish walls had fallen against each other, the small home looked as if some giant had come and spitefully kicked it in. The church was in worse shape. The fairytale spire, something Duo entertained the kids with endlessly with his long hair and the tale of Rapunzel, was marked and scorched. Its thin windows were blown out, and the tiles from the roof slipped off, cracking against the ground like tears. The large black doors he had so fearfully stared at when he first arrived, were pathetic crumbs of charcoal, barely even on their hinges. Despite there being no walls around them, he gingerly pushed them open to walk in. There was a pool of water on the floor; the holy water had been spilled. It mixed with some poor man's blood as he lay staring accusingly up. Duo shied away from him, and continued in. He walked amongst the broken pews. Trying not to see the small hands and feet poking out from under them, failed by the sturdy pews. The grey ash fluttered around all around him as he trudged through the blood and chunks of what he prayed was rooftop. His body was racked with shivers; he couldn't stop the tension building in him. He felt he might break.

He walked to the altar.

The walls either side of the church had caved, crushing children he'd comforted no less than half an hour ago. The holy cloths, the bibles, the candles . . . all melted into nothing but dripping wax pooling in the dead's hair, gilded pages twisting and trying to escape from their fiery hell. He tripped and stumbled, crying out and scooting away as he recognised the burnt features of the mercenary that had struck Father Maxwell. The man glared at Duo, his features twisted in pain, but his surprised grey eyes wide open, and melted into greyish white tears. Duo stared at him numbly for a moment, before bringing his hand up to stare at it. It was covered in blood. He turned to look; Father Maxwell was face down in a pool of his own blood. For this small mercy, Duo would remain eternally grateful. His memory of the Father was never changed.

Still, Duo whimpered with sadness.

"Duo . . ." Sister Helen's voice was horse as she whispered. "Is that you . . .?"

A hand reached out and clamped solidly on his shoulder, "Duo?"

The braided former pilot snapped back into the present with a crack. He blinked as he got his bearings back. Earth now loomed before him, and the Space Shuttle was tipping into re-entry. He turned his head, and looked up at Heero, who stared at him with some concern. Sister Helen was blinking owlishly, and yawned, a shiver rolling over her slight shoulders.

Duo nodded to Heero who withdrew his hand, "I'm cool . . ." he murmured, "Are we landing Preventers' private stripe or the public's?"

Heero glanced up and toward the cockpit, "We're meeting Relena, but we're going to land at the Preventers' . . . media's hotting up down there."

Duo swallowed, his throat not quite coming back to the present and the taste of ashes still rising. "That's cool with me." He glanced at his new mother, as she smiled slowly for him, "That's perfectly okay . . ." 

Steam rose slowly from the dark liquid.

A few grains of sugar bounced off the cream table, as Dorothy made up her coffee. She stared at Relena over the small table as the former Queen of the world stared out. The Spaceport's Observational Deck sported a beautiful café, intimate and calming to those recently arrived from the colonies. It was filled with various types of people, in varying degrees of tiredness. The café was surrounded by glass, one could choose to watch people as they walked to collect their baggage, or paced quickly to ensure they caught the next Shuttle Bus. Business people, whole gaggles of them waddled toward their planes, mothers and fathers with their small children paused ever so often to watch the shuttles take off. The other side of the café – where they had decided to place themselves, a small table just off centre – was nothing but thick window. The day was warm, and the sky a clear blue. Relena's eyes were so matched to it; they were not reflected in the glass. Relena was deep in thought. Beside her untouched milky tea lay stacks of reports. It was getting out of hand, and Dorothy didn't know how much longer they could keep the Press from spreading a mass panic. She sighed, and opened another packet of sugar.

"Stuff's bad for you, Dorothy."

She blinked and looked up as Relena absently admonished her. "Coffee is undrinkable without sugar and milk." Dorothy smiled, "Done thinking yet?"

"No." Relena sighed and picked up her scone. She pulled it apart, and spread some butter on it slowly, "But then how can I even begin to fathom any of this . . .?" She peeled open the foil lid of her strawberry jam, and spooned it on to the small pastry. "The dead are coming back to life . . . and now," She picked up Heero's email and stared at it, "The former Gundam pilots must protect us again. I just wish . . ."

Dorothy frowned, "You are not going to back down, are you?"

"What do you mean?" Relena blinked, she shook her head, and reached over to touch her best friend's hand, "No, never Dorothy. I can never back down from my responsibilities."

"Very well then, that's that." Dorothy's Nordic-ice blue eyes narrowed fondly, "That's my Miss Relena."

Relena stared at Dorothy for a moment, a slow smile spread over her face. Dorothy poured her third sachet of sugar, stirred in a fourth carton-cup of milk and sipped her coffee as The Former Queen of The World tipped her head back and laughed musically.

It felt like . . .

It felt like stepping into a pool of water and getting a mild electric shock very slowly.

Heero breathed in and out once as he stepped out onto the hot tarmac of the spaceport. He blinked and stared at his feet, with the ridiculous desire . . . the undeniable urge to rebuild Wing Zero Custom just so he could get off the ground and then just free fall from earth's atmosphere. He felt like he could fly, and felt foolish just standing there and obeying gravity. He stared at his steel capped, issue-black boots, and felt an irrational anger bubble up in himself. Why the hell was he just standing there?

He tipped his head back, sunglasses taking most of the glare out of the sunshine and stared at the blue sky. Why wasn't he flying up there?! He winced as the sun suddenly brightened, and blinded him . . .

. . . Heero felt like time was crawling backwards. He turned, his white cloaks floating away from his body with a speed he didn't feel. He was in the desert, a cool handle in his hand with a good grip. The blue-eyed boy blinked, and looked over at his friends. They stood in a line next to him, Duo was the closest and at the end of the line . . . he frowned, was that Wufei?

The last person in the line was grim-faced, their blood red cloak hiding the top of their face. Strands of sleek black hair blew slowly in what should have been a gale force wind. Heero frowned, and looked ahead. Five people were ambling slowly towards his group.

He glanced at his friends again, watching as Quatre slowly raised his hand, palm raised against them.

Duo started to blink, and turned his head towards Heero. His mouth moved but not a sound issued. Heero frowned as he read Duo's sluggish moving lips, " . . . Heero?"

Trowa looked up, and held up a heavily gloved arm. He nodded, and smiled as a white hawk landed on his arm. Heero blinked as Duo turned, slow despite the shock registering slowly on his face, he glanced at Trowa as the green eyed lion tamer petted the bird and nodded to whatever question Duo was asking.

Heero felt the heat of the desert rise, felt light headed, as Duo turned to him once more, "Hee—

--ro?! Heero?! Man, wake up!!" Duo reached out and touched Heero's arm. He glanced at Relena, as she stood frowning in front of the silent Heero. The perfect soldier was standing there, just as if he was in a trance.

"Heero?" Relena questioned, she reached out and waved her hand in front of him. "Heero, what's wrong?"

The black pupil retracted, leaving the cobalt blue eyes seeming empty.

Sally pulled back Heero's other eyelid and repeated the process. "Well . . ." She pulled back and put her hands on her hips. "I can't explain it . . ." She glared at Doctor J, who scowled at her, simply itching to examine Heero for himself. "And you can't tell me there's anything wrong with my practices . . ." She growled at the older doctor. Doctor J simply ignored her and picked up the light and repeated the same test. Sally raised her arms and shook her head, walking away. The Preventers medical bay was filled with a few more of the recently undead and Relena was making a point of talking with each of them. Heero blinked once and J peered at him, taking his pulse.

"Well? What do you feel?"

Heero yawned, "Sleepy."

J's eyebrows rose high on his wrinkled brow, "In all the time I've known you . . ." He whispered with shock, "I have never once seen you yawn . . ."

The doctor read over the reports again as Heero yawned widely. The blue eyed former pilot blinked slowly, "I want to sleep."

"You *want* to sleep!" Duo looked around, looking slightly frantic, "Wait . . . wait . . . the dead are rising from their graves . . . there's some sort of judgement day coming . . ." Duo pointed at Heero and pulled at his small gold cross, "And *now* he who never sleeps yawns and yearns to slumber . . ." The violet eyes widened comically, and the braided Preventer gave a high pitched yelp, "Ye, gads!!" He grabbed at his head, and cried out, "The End is nigh!! Repent all ye sinners!!"

There was a high chuckle from the doorway, Dorothy chuckled, and pressed her hand against her cheek. "For the supposed saviour of the earth . . ." She glanced Duo once up and down, "You're right . . . the end is nigh!"

Duo scowled, and tossed his head, folding his arms, "Bite me!"

"And you are?" Meirin called over from her bed. Dorothy turned, and stared at Meirin.

"Are you Chang's sister?" She raised an eyebrow, "I am Dorothy Catalonia, and you are?"

"Chang-Long Meirin." The Chinese girl raised her chin defiantly, "I am Chang Wufei's wife." She scowled at Dorothy, "Do not take the Angels lightly!"

Dorothy tilted her head, "Forgive me . . ." She smiled, "It's just a little hard to imagine that these beautiful creatures will bother to help us, when we have fought and saved ourselves before."

Meirin slid off her bed and stormed over to Dorothy to growl into her face, "I don't like your tone, Onna!" She quickly scanned Dorothy's face, "I'm not even sure I like the look of you . . ."

A forked eyebrow rose slowly, "Are you sure you're not Chang's little sister . . .?" Dorothy spoke slowly, deliberately provoking the shorter Chinese girl. "You sound and look a lot like him . . ."

Quatre looked over at Wufei, the man was leant back – now in his Preventer's uniform – against the wall, his arms folded. He looked for all the world as if he was trying hard not to be there. As Dorothy spoke, Wufei shook his head slowly, "Foolish."

Meirin's hands were a blur as she reached out and lightly punched various points of Dorothy's body. Dorothy's eyebrows were raised as Meirin tapped the top of her temples.

And that was all that moved from Dorothy, as Meirin spat something vicious sounding in Chinese, spun and went to lean against the wall next to Wufei. The Chinese girl folded her arms and glanced at Wufei, murmuring something in mandarin when he whispered something disapproving to her.

Relena blinked and looked back at Dorothy, the longhaired woman hadn't moved. Her eyes were wide, and her nostrils flaring, and she looked very surprised. Duo blinked and glanced at Meirin, "What did you do?"

"Nothing she didn't deserve for the insult." Meirin spat, "To suggest that my husband is a woman!" Meirin tossed her head, "The dishonour!"

Wufei smiled slightly and murmured something, which Meirin retorted against louder. Heero stared at Dorothy, "She's paralysed."

Relena's mouth fell open as she stepped up to Dorothy, "Really?" Dorothy's nostrils flared again in irritation. Relena frowned, "Please undo it."

Meirin's eyes narrowed, "And why should I obey you?"

"I am Relena Darlian . . ." Relena held out her hand, "And I'm not ordering you to do anything . . . I'm requesting you do it."

The Chinese girl's cheeks coloured slightly as she frowned angrily. She opened her mouth to retort when Wufei stepped in, he passed his hands over Dorothy in the same sequence and released her. He glanced at Relena, as Dorothy looked at her hands and moved around. "Miss Darlian . . . just as Chang and Long holds no precedence over your system, Darlian, Peacecraft and Catalonia holds little meaning to us . . ." He walked back calmly to his place beside Meirin, the girl now looking at him with a look of surprise. He turned and leant against the wall, resuming his silent contemplation.

"I'm coming, yeah, yeah, I'm coming . . . shit, man, keep your goddamn pants on . . ."

Howard yawned and cussed as he stumbled across his cabin to open the door. He squinted at the man, before grunting gruffly, "What?"

"Howard, there's a call for . . ."

"And you couldn't take a . . ." Howard yawned, and stretched, "Couldn't take a goddamned message?"

"It's from Prof. G, Howard . . . G as in Gundam scientist, *G* . . ." The man's eyes were wide as if he'd been struck with a bolt out of the blue, "He wants to talk to you now!"

Howard blinked dumbly at the man.

A couple of minutes later on the bridge of his Scavengers ship, Howard was staring at a Preventers' transmission live feed. G stared back through the grainy image and smiled slightly, "Heh . . . how have you been, you old sea dog?"

Howard shook his head, "You're a dead man . . ."

"I know . . . you don't have to tell me about it, but I'm sure Duo has told you all about the dead rising recently?" G grinned, "Heh, heh . . . I thought it was about damn time I called in a few favours. . ."

"God damn."

"I know, I know . . ." G's expression sobered, "How have you been, Howard . . . We've not heard from you in . . ." The man's visible eye moistened slightly, "It's been a while Howard, it's been a long while. . . are you taking care?"

Howard nodded slowly, "I see you still haven't trimmed that thing you call hair . . ." he smiled slightly, feeling a little sentimental now. "Is O still a cue ball? Why not—"

"--not donate some of my hair to him?" G chuckled roughly, "I would but can you imagine Osaki with hair . . . it's jus—"

"--just so wrong!" Howard completed, he smiled tightly, "And Schwartz and Hamerada? How are they?"

Professor G looked to the side, as Doktor S leant into the picture, "We're doing fine, Howard . . ." he smiled tightly. "We're doing as best you can when you've been brought back to life by forces unknown . . ." S glanced to G.

"Something tells me this isn't just old men catching up . . ." Howard sighed, "What do you want?"

"Blunt as always I see." G grunted gruffly, "Well, I'll get down to it . . . we need help designing some engines for Escape ships. . ."

"They *are* evacuating the earth then . . ."

"No, this is just a precaution in case we do have to . . ." G sighed heavily, "we need your expertise Howard, we've been dead four years, we don't know what advances there has been in metallurgy or engineering . . ."

Howard nodded, "There's been a few I know about . . ." Howard paused and closed his eyes, "Jōdan . . . I guess you're there too."

G shuffled as the fifth scientist sat beside him and stared evenly at the screen. "Howard, how have you been?"

"Well enough." Howard swallowed, "Will we have to work together?"

"Naturally, but I –"

"--Trust we can put our *differences* aside . . ." Howard opened his eyes and nodded, looking at a man he hadn't seen for nearly a quarter a century. "Of course . . ."

The ride down the elevator was quiet as the former Gundams and friends travelled down to the car park. Une had ordered them to go home. There was nothing that could be done or said until all understood the facts. The doctors and master Fao were asked to stay behind and explain things further, and Heero was asked by Noin to remain behind for a couple of hours to tend to a matter that had appeared. He'd tossed Duo the keys to his car and Duo gave him the keys to his motorbike. Quatre, his mother and the Maganac corps, waved goodbye as they had waited for the other lift to take them to the roof. They were going to get into the private aircraft Rashid had arrived in, and head off to one of Quatre's inner town mansions. Trowa and Faye were dropped off by Wufei at the circus and met with Catherine. Wufei and Meirin then drove to Wufei's house a little out of town.

It would be their first chance to truly be alone with their family and each one took it with both hands.

----------------------------

And Now It's Time to LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!

DrM: Welcome to the second arch of the story!! [lets of some fire works] YAY!! I hope you are still with me for it, and I hope you like it!! Well, in answer to a few questions. . . yes, I did watch a hellvalot of X-1999 when I was writing this, so that's what's with the whole concept. . . I hope it doesn't detract from the story too much, but I do love CLAMP a lot, they are my fanfic-goddesses!! All hail CLAMP!! And of course the makers of Gundam Wing!! Anyway, hopefully updates will now get back on track, now that I'm back at uni!!

Howard: [wonders in] what's this?

DrM: my authour's notes, Howard!! How are you?

Howard: fine as fine can be. . . what's the thing between me and J?

DrM: oh, ho, ho, ho. . . that will be revealed in later chapters. . . well, I've gotta go!! But please R&R!!