Hey, everyone
We are sooo sorry it took so long to update. CEP says it's his fault, lol, but it really had to do with us losing this whole chapter and having to rewrite it. We were both pretty depressed, but finally we got back into the groove and rewrote it. Thank God for that! (If you're not religious, just ignore us.)
So, here it us, but first, replies to reviews!
Genkai Lady: Thanks a bunch! We tried with Hilde and Duo: Something to keep in mind, though a lot of people have commented that Duo is acting very emotional, (with one complaint about it so far ) this upcoming chapter should help explain that even further. Personally, CEP and I both feel that Duo has always been the most troubled pilot, since Heero and Trowa both seem comfortable with the way they are, and Wu Fei only really requires a role to fit into in order to be happy, and Quatre just wants to hold tea parties. (just kidding!) Duo calls himself the God of Death yet obviously wants a girlfriend. Something's wrong. I'm glad you liked Cathy! I think she would have to be very compassionate to care for Trowa so much. She's like a tigress.
Itsa C. Kret: I'm glad you liked the heart-to-heart, but as to Trowa's eyes, sometimes they look brown, and sometimes they look green. Since hazel is a green-brown, we figure that it's safe. And if you've ever watched the X-Files, you'd know, hazel sometimes looks brown and sometimes looks green. (winks to the DD fans out there)
Hououza: Definitly, Duo obviously has self-worth issues. And it makes sense to worry about losing friendship - I myself have lost a few due to trying a romantic relationship, and it's painful if it doesn't work out. If it does work, then it's great, but you never know until you try.
As to Heero, yes, Relena wants to help him. Both CEP and I feel that while Relena had a fascination with Heero, she's not obsessed in a controlling way. She wants to help him, even if he never loves her back.
Trowa was an enigma until I realized that at the end of Endless Waltz, he seemed to have not only a handle on his worthiness, his life and his purpose, but also on the universe as a whole. This is why we made him Buddhist. It seems to fit with the way his character ended up post EW. You were in Japan? LUCKY! (Ukky cries vainly)
Sydney: Wow, thanks! It's nice to have people support us instead of complain about nit-picky things. (which thankfully is few and far between) We appreciate you and all of our readers.
Anouk: I'm going to field this one (CEP). Cry-baby . . . do you mean how he's expressing emotion to the only person who he's ever opened up to? Or do you mean how this is the first time he's cried since he was six years old? And BTW, you're making an assumption as to why he's crying at all. Just because Hilde thinks that's why he's crying doesn't mean that's what it is.
If you'd actually read the last chapter you wouldn't be able to think that because you would have been fairly smacked with it during his shower scene. I'm glad that you take circumstantial data and assume it to be true, especially when you don't bother to test it against other existing data . . . that's a very effective way to think.
But because you didn't bother to actually read the last chapter, I'll give a quick summary: Duo cried because his only father figure was Proffessor G, who was a jerk, but now he's dead. And because I know you're not the type to examine something for deeper meaning, I'll elaborate: Duo equated his worth with his ability to fight. But he doesn't do that anymore. He no longer has any link back to feelings of self-worth, aside from Hilde. Please, in the future make sure to think before you write, because you really end up looking . . . well . . . stupid.
Ukky again . . . and I just have to say - we're not the only ones who think you're acting like a doofus. Just read the other reviews.
Kamineko: Yea! Thanks for giving us so much feedback! The tons of comments really help our creative juices! And we fixed the eye-stuff, just so you know. Thanks for noticing, to be honest, I think we were just so excited to write it that we didn't notice.
As to Duo, he definitly acted different in the beginning of this fanfic - mostly because he was spending time with all of his friends, and so was acting like a whacko. He is going to be very different in this chapter, since he's had some time to relax and there are some . . . not so good things that happen.
We are overjoyed that you approve of our take on Relena! To be honest, this fanfic is the most realistic way we can envision a continuation of GW after EW. Relena was certainly the little girl in the series, and the movie, even. Although I would excuse her, since she was 15 or so. But all of her experiences, and the fact that this fanfic takes place 16 months after the end of the series, I believe that she would have definitly grown and cooled down a bit.
As to the couplings, like we said, realism is the key. We both believe in the standard couplings (Heero/Relena, Duo/Hilde) and some semi-standard couplings (Wu Fei/Sally, Quatre/Dorothy), however, we don't think that they would get together right away. We appreciate and value the interactions between all characters, and feel that without these interactions, there is a fatal flaw in the realism of one's fanfic.
Trowa is not in this chapter really, but he will be back, lol. We don't want to leave any character in the dark, though of course the teens are our primary characters at the moment, since this will end up being a "high school" fanfic. How loath I am to call it that! LOL.
ally127: Thank you! We try to be as detailed as possible, though sometimes we miss the mark. We appreciate your review, keep reading! This chapter should prove to be most enlightening.
IamMidnite: Wow, high praise! With so many fanfics out there, we're really grateful that you found ours to be the most accurate between Duo and Hilde! Truthfully, Hilde's character is not really fleshed out in the series, or the movie. So we had to strongly expand on it, building up from the framework of her actions, her fashion and her opinions. It was actually rather difficult, but we feel comfortable with what we discovered. As to Wu Fei and Catherine, I think that it's a possibility. Just as any of the characters (except homosexually unless a LOT changes for them) are possible love interests for each other. We're sorry this chapter came so late, but as we said, losing a whole chapter made us very upset and we weren't able to write anything for almost 4 months! Please forgive us!
Shahrezad1: Hey, there! No worries, look at how long it took for us to post a chapter, if you take a while to review, we are ever forgiving (considering our own state of dissarray). Lol, as to Duo taking initiative, it's more accurate to say his body took initiative while his brain took a holiday, lol. (CEP: he's following his beam-saber.) The couples will be dealt with shortly, but for this chapter, we are concentrating more on showing how the characters have developed as friends and interact with each other now, after time has passed.
Kamineko: (CEP and Ukky cry "we're not worthy" SOB SOB SOB!)
Elly: Well, there is some Heero and Relena in this chapter! Just . . . not together . . . Thanks for your review!
Chapter 7
Earth, Moscow
April 14th – 12:01 am
Everything was white . . . cold, sterile, too bright . . .
Then he could hear the frantic voices all around him, and slowly his surroundings wavered into view, as if what had been blurred now came into sharp focus.
Hesitantly, then with growing desperation, the young man began pushing through the crowds of people, some crying, some wearing crisp ivory coats, everyone with white breath masks over their faces –
He found a door, finally, and pushed at it, but it gave a firm thunk and refused to move. Violet eyes widening, he backed away from the words emblazoned backwards across the safety-glass window . . .
QUARANTINE.
"What do you mean we only have a thousand cc's of the cowpox virus!" a face-masked man hissed angrily behind him, and the boy spun to see two white-coated figures wringing their hands as they argued.
"Doctor," the woman cried back, voice muffled by the mask she wore, "Smallpox hasn't affected the human populous in over three hundred years, these vaccines were being stored for scientific use, not for treatment!" Her pale green eyes looked up and away from the man anxiously as they spoke.
Rushing up to them, the young brunet tried to grab at the woman's arm, but his hand seemed to pass through her. "Hey!" he yelled at them. "what's going on?!"
As if he wasn't even there, they turned away and the man cried out, "Doctor Scotts, contact the Southridge Institute, see if they can clone the cowpox virus that we do have! At this rate, if we have to wait for supply from earth, this colony will be decimated!"
"What about the terrorists, has the Alliance given into their demands?" another, older man in an ivory mask demanded. " The terrorists might be lying about having enough vaccine, but anything is worth a try at this point."
"No," the woman spat, all three becoming distant in the crowd as they walked away, "the Alliance doesn't seem to care about the lives of the colonists."
Hanging his head, the teenager turned back to the clusters of civilians seated and standing against the walls, and glanced over at the nurses as they made rounds among the crying children.
He stepped forward, watching with increasing unease as the people parted before him, revealing a little auburn-haired boy huddling against the side of a chair, fingers clutching his exposed inner elbow. Against his arm, along the vein, a dark puncture wound leaked a single drop of ruby blood.
The child looked up, and the young man stiffened at the desperate, piercing violet gaze that locked onto his own.
Blinking sadly up at him, the little boy shook his head and whispered, "Mommy and Daddy are dead."
"NOOOOOO!" Stumbling back, the teen spun, suddenly plunged into darkness –
- 'I'm so proud of you, son.'-
-'Do you want Mommy to tell you a story?'-
-'My kid's gonna grow up to be the smartest boy in school'-
-'I love you, Duo. You'll always be my little boy'-
Blackness.
He was sobbing. No sound but that; echoing.
He thought he was sitting on the ground, but he couldn't see it.
There was nothing to see.
For an undeterminable amount of time, he sat there. Forever . . . for a blink of an eye.
Then the tone - the resonance - of metal sang through the air, of wind whisking along a blade.
"Who's there?!" he pulled himself up, wiping at his eyes. "I wouldn't mess with me if I were you. You think I'm easy prey just because I'm alone?!" he screamed, fists clenching as he glared out into the unending sable void. "Then come and receive your demise, at the hands of the-"
"-God of Death?" a voice hissed, and the boy stumbled back.
A pair of glowing scarlet orbs shimmered into existence from obsidian shadow, and a rough, husky laugh filled the nothingness.
Growling as the figure materialized, the brunet lifted his chin defiantly, long braid tossing with barely contained rage as he stared at the sable-cloaked specter. "You," he spat, and began advancing upon the sickle-wielding phantom, "this is all your damn fault!"
The ghastly chuckling began once more, and somehow in the inky darkness, the blade of the sickle glinted eerily.
"Stop moving!" he cried, swinging at the form, yet always finding himself just out of reach. "Say something, dammit! You took away my parents! You KILLED them!"
Laughter trickling into silence, the pair of burning sanguine eyes merely gazed at him from beneath the heavy ebony hood.
With a grunt, he swung a final time, and found no purchase. Gasping raggedly for air, the young man glowered up at the dark creature. "You took them from me."
"Did I?" it finally rasped, and fingers of bone slipped from the folds of the cloak, reaching upwards toward the cowl. "You were not mistaken before," it continued grimly, "when you called me. . ."
. . . it tossed back the hood, and the boy shrunk away in dread . . .
"The God of Death."
His own face smirked back at him . . . sunken eyes glowing red.
Gasping, Duo opened his eyes to see the murky walls of his hotel room, hands clenched tightly around the tangled sheets. He had sat up at some point, he realized, his panicked gaze jerking around himself as he continued to breathe, heart hammering within his chest. Just a dream . . . but, Christ, what a dream. Gee, wonder where this one came from, he joked nervously to himself.
The digital alarm clock at the bedside table turned from 1:59 to 2:00 as he watched.
With a shiver, he lay back down, pulling the disheveled covers over him. "Just a dream," he repeated. "And there's no way in–" stopping himself, he amended shakily, "there's no way I'm bothering Hilde about this." Not after how happy she was to get a room all to herself for once.
Resolved, the braided teen stared up at the ceiling, thoughts simultaneously racing and empty in the oppressive silence, but sleep eluded him.
When he looked at the clock again, it read 4:25, and Duo couldn't withstand another moment in the blackness of the room.
Flipping on the lights and swiftly dressing, he hurried from the sterile chambers . . . almost slamming the door behind him in an effort to escape the haunting blackness that provided a chilling reminder of old memories . . . long buried.
(-(-(-)-)-)
Clean-shaven and freshly bathed, Heero sat in the thick, fluid darkness of twilight, waiting for the sun to rise. Barely registering the flickering glow from the television as it played across his features, the young man inhaled and exhaled slowly, allowing the sensation of being clean to roll over him.
The flash training he had received years ago under Doctor J's tutelage had given him a wide range of knowledge pertaining to social etiquette and high society, and incidentally, had also instilled a strong appreciation for cleanliness. Unfortunately, Heero's lack of funds and lack of necessity meant that he had been unable to utilize those teachings or indulge in his preferences.
Posture erect in the desk chair, he glanced down at himself, eyes flicking over the dark gray slacks and forest green dress-shirt Quatre had forced upon him before they had left the colonies.
The rather mothering blond had insisted on the necessity for Heero to own an acceptable wardrobe for his new identity . . . though Heero had an inkling it was more of an excuse. However, finding his logic impeccable, he acceded to Quatre's demands. After all, Heero had only been able to bring himself to argue the decision for the span of a few moments; the clothing he'd been previously forced to make due with for so many months could barely be considered wearable anymore, and he found himself detesting the worn, filthy items, no matter how illogical it was to feel that way.
Running a hand through his newly washed cocoa-hued hair, the pilot raised his head to gaze across the room toward the uncovered window, where shades of cobalt gray colored the cityscape. He breathed in again, and the scent of the soap and shampoo filled his nostrils. How I've missed taking showers, he told himself, a slight tone of amusement to the thoughts. That alone will certainly make waiting a whole year for my diploma bearable.
Disgusted by the inane chattering of the Russian newscasters on the screen as they misreported on the latest ESUN infighting, Heero stood and walked slowly to the television, flicking it off. Shadow flooded the room as his eyes adjusted immediately to the absence of light, and the young pilot turned and began making his way to the door, not wanting to miss seeing the sunrise.
As he strode across the black-drenched chambers, he paused, Prussian eyes catching upon an object jutting from underneath the door. An ivory envelope, practically glowing in the surrounding darkness, lay upon the floor. Scrawled across it in quick, firm cursive was the word "Heero".
With a slight frown crossing his lips, the sepia-locked young man crouched to pick it up, then rose again and stalked back to the chair by the desk, sitting down. Une wouldn't have sent me anything on hardcopy when she could wait the few hours for day to break and call me to her office. Who else would know of my location? Studying the letter, he found the script completely unfamiliar, and far too forceful to be Une's hand.
Opening the letter, he unfolded the piece of paper he found within and glanced down at the signature in order to know immediately who sent him the letter. Hilde? Heero frowned, confused, and returned to the top of the letter.
Dear Heero,
Sorry to bug you, but please read this letter. I know it's pretty strange that I would send you something, but it's really important.
I'm writing to you about Duo. The first thing I want to do is apologize about the Wing Zero doll. Duo truly had never intended you to see it – it was all my fault for showing you against his wishes and I think you should blame me if you blame anyone. The last thing he wanted was to get you upset again. I think the doll was his way of remembering a friend.
I know that before this incident even happened, there have been some issues. Sometimes Duo just acts like a moron, and he puts his foot in his mouth. But he's actually a pretty good guy and he cares about his friends a lot. Not that he has that many friends.
Duo doesn't have a lot of people who he feels understand him. He's got no family and the only friends he has are those allies he made during the recent wars. The truth is, and I hope you believe me, but I think Duo sees you as a brother. I'm not sure if you're the "older" brother or he is, but that's the way it is. And I may be out of line, but it seems you Gundam pilots can use any friends you can get.
Well, anyhow, that's really all I had to say. I hope you give him a chance.
Yours,
Hilde
Staring down at the letter, the young man continued to frown in thought. Duo . . . sees me as an older brother? That's not possible.
However, despite his inner protestations, the logic center of his brain swiftly took this new data and combined it with existing information. It formed a cohesive picture that was undeniable.
Why would he? I always believed that Duo's apparent attempts at friendship were manipulations designed to lull me into a false sense of security and trust: he had no reason to be friendly except for the chance to deceive me, as we knew nothing of the other and were not meant to be allies. But he trusts Hilde and has lived with her for one year and six months. If she says he considers me as such a close familial connection, than it must be true . . . unless she is lying as well.
A quiver of frustration ran through him as his mind informed him of the great unlikelihood of that event, considering how Hilde would have nothing to gain from deceiving him. Heero had no secrets to take advantage of, no assets to acquire, and few if any associations to manipulate, since he had managed to become practically invisible to all organizations and most individuals. Even if they wanted to get closer to Relena or Quatre, they already have ties far stronger to either than I could provide, or than I even have.
With another downward quirk of his mouth, the young man glanced up at the window, where the faint wisps of dawn were just beginning to show on the horizon. I'm going to miss the sunrise. Standing, the dark-haired pilot gave another uneasy look to the letter in his hand, then began to carefully fold it, edge precisely touching edge, placing it into the back pocket of his slacks.
Prussian eyes narrowed, he pivoted on his heel and headed for the exit, thoughts unusually jumbled inside his head. If this is true, and Duo views me as an older brother, than I must determine how this will affect my mission. With a frown, he opened the door to his hotel room and stepped out into the hall. I've never had any family before. I've never needed any.
A twinge of insecurity settled over him and he began striding down the corridor, the bland ivory of the walls tinted a dusty saffron from the overhead lights dotted along the ceiling. Maybe my needs are changing.
(-(-(-)-)-)
Earth, Izumo
April 14th – 9:51 am
"Wait!"
Wu Fei exhaled slowly as he marched down the corridor toward Relena's room, her mother close behind him with a horrified expression across her pale features. Facing forward, he spoke curtly, "She's already thirty minutes late, Missus Dorlan. I can't wait any longer."
Wincing, the blue-eyed woman caught up to him - legs longer but in less perfect physical condition than his own - and ordered, "Stop! You can't just barge into her room!"
He raised his head and glowered at her, eyes dark. "Missus Dorlan," he spoke, tone clipped, "I can, and I will. Can you imagine the disgrace of her showing up late to her own staff meeting? She's already late because you wanted to let her sleep in; she can't afford any further delays."
Doors passed to either side of them as they walked, the woman wringing her hands worriedly, voice almost shrill. "I'm sure she's getting dressed right now. Just give her a few more minutes!"
"No more minutes," the Chinese agent shook his head, adjusting the hem of his Preventer's jacket impatiently as they reached her door.
Grabbing his arm, the older woman exclaimed, "But what if she's . . . not decent! You can't go into her room without her knowledge!"
Wu Fei stopped and turned to gaze up coldly at Relena's mother, annoyance and a bit of humor pursing his lips. "Missus Dorlan, I have been the Vice Foreign Minister's bodyguard for almost three months now. I can assure you that there is nothing in that room," he pointed to the door sharply, "that I have not seen."
With that, the young man turned the knob and shoved open the door, entering briskly . . .
. . . to the sight of an underwear-clad Relena and Dorothy strewn across each other on the bed, limbs intertwined sensually beyond the parted lilac canopy curtains.
Halting, Wu Fei blinked, eyes widening very slightly, then cleared his throat. "Except that," he firmly amended.
"Oh, my," Mrs. Dorlan gasped behind him, then covered her mouth with her hands and suppressed a giggle.
Giving a sigh, the Preventer agent frowned at the two blondes snuggling in their sleep. Then his lips quirked smugly and he walked up to the foot of the bed, leaning over it and cupping his hands around his mouth. Glancing back to the chuckling woman behind him before turning to face the bed again, Wu Fei bellowed at the two girls, "COVER THINE EYES, MADAM! THERE IS INDECENCY AFOOT!"
At the head of the bed, squeaking at being awoken, Relena winced and shoved her head under a pillow. "Oww . . ."
Chortling, Relena's mother suddenly began to moan with mock-sorrow, "Oh, my poor baby, growing up so soon. She's already inviting strange women into her bed . . ."
Narrowing his eyes, Wu Fei strode over to Relena's side of the bed and frowned. Pausing for a mere moment, he then leaned forward, mouth inches from her pillow-covered ears.
"INJUSTICE!" he yelled, eliciting screams and cries of pain from the two girls.
"Wu Fei! Ow . . ." Blinking, the Vice Foreign Minister turned and pulled the pillow from her face to gaze up blearily at him. "What are you doing here?" she muttered, then dropped her face into her hands. "God, my head . . ."
"You're late," he spat, taking two steps back from the bed. His ebony eyes snapped as he glared down at the both of them, nose crinkling as the distinct scent of tequila touched his nostrils.
Running a hand through her tousled blonde hair, Relena gave him a confused look. "Late?" Sudden comprehension dawned on her features, and she jumped from the bed, crying, "Oh-my-God, I'm late!" only to get tangled in the sheets and collapse onto the floor with a thump.
On the other side of the canopy bed, Dorothy pulled at the light violet sheets and blankets, muttering in a lazy soprano voice, "No, cold . . ." and rolled onto her side into a fetal position, obviously planning on going back to sleep.
Unimpressed, Wu Fei crossed his arms and watched as Relena struggled to rise, then grunted and stepped forward. He pulled her up by her arms and helped her step out from the mass of blankets. "You went out drinking last night, didn't you." The harsh tone made the sentence a definite statement.
Relena winced back from his tone and his glaring black eyes, her own doe-like gaze guilty and pained. "I can have a night out if I want to!" she suddenly exclaimed, back straightening and expression instantly fiery; an incongruous image paired with her state of undress.
Frowning at the sudden accentuation of her undergarment-clad figure, Wu Fei released her and turned his back to her quickly, crossing his arms. "You should have called me!" he yelled, expression sorely infuriated as he set his glare upon the amused older woman still watching them.
Turning his head away from the mother in disgust, he continued, "You know that I would have gone with you had you let me know what you were doing. And to go with Dorothy of all people!" he snapped, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the other girl behind him. "It's too dangerous, and she can hardly be considered a suitable bodyguard . . . and you are LATE!"
There was a pause and the sound of stumbling footsteps behind him, and then he heard Relena mumble painfully, "Stop yelling . . . I was fine . . ."
Mrs. Dorlan simply shrugged and smiled at him, eliciting a glower from the young man as his hands drop to clench into fists. "You," he spat to the girl behind him, "were hardly fine. You were all by yourself, with only Miss Catalonia to protect you! She can barely protect herself! Look at the two of you! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, a pair of drunkards passing out together as if you were in a sorority!"
From the bed came Catalonia's mumbled retort, "I prefer the term, 'lesbian'."
"Disgusting," the Chinese Preventer agent muttered, refusing to turn back around. "Now be quick about it, Vice Foreign Minster, and get some clothes on!"
A shuffling noise was heard over his right shoulder, and then Relena told him, "I am, I am, just let me—wha!" A clattering sounded, and a whump of something hitting the closet door hard, and Wu Fei spun, crouching into a defensive stance.
Seeing the fair-haired Minster sprawled on the floor and holding her head in one hand and her hip in the other, Wu Fei sighed, then stepped over to her. "Relena," he muttered under his breath as she moaned. Crouching next to her, the young man asked, timbre calm, "Are you alright?"
"Oww, dammit." Glaring up at him with pained eyes, the disheveled girl moaned, "No, my hip hurts. But I'm fine." She began to struggle to get up, however it only resulted in her stumbling to the floor again. She hardly appearing the noble Vice Foreign Minster wearing only a bra and panties and her hair a messy tangle of gold.
Dark eyes immediately concerned, Wu Fei grunted under his breath then bent to shove his hands under her armpits again. The Preventer pulled Relena to her feet, wrapping an arm under hers and around her bare back. With his other hand, he opened the closet door, holding her up as she leaned against him. "Are you sure that you're alright?" he asked her quietly.
Nodding and biting her lip, the blonde clung to him, hurt-filled cerulean orbs staring up into his eyes. "I'm fine, I'm more . . ." Paling a bit, she winced, ". . . dizzy, and my head . . . God, it really aches."
"Of course," he mused with a dry tone as they entered the closet – ignoring the baleful glare her mother was sending him, "you've got a hang-over, woman. What do you expect?"
With a humph, Relena glowered at him, agony like blue shards in her gaze, then pulled away. "I can dress myself just fine," she growled, then yelped as she dropped like a stone to the floor of the walk-in closet.
"Of course you can." Looking down at her with a dour expression, one side of his mouth upturned an almost imperceptible amount, the Chinese teen asked her, "So, what do you want to wear? You're hardly able to stand enough to get your clothes from the rack."
Suddenly, movement was behind him, and he glanced back to see Mrs. Dorlan standing behind him, her face immediately severe. "Wu Fei, I'll help her. You shouldn't be so intimate with my daughter!"
"There is nothing intimate about my helping the drunk Vice Foreign Minster get to her clothes closet," he told her calmly, voice dry and a bit smug.
Glaring with obvious upset desperation, the taller woman said, "Leave, let me help her! You shouldn't even be seeing her in this state, she's barely clothed!"
"Madam," Wu Fei stressed, eyes snapping a bit now that he was being so pressed, "please remove yourself. She is running very LATE to her own staff meeting," his voice deepened in tightly controlled rage, " and you, Madam, are not her bodyguard nor do you understand the importance of her timeliness."
Feeling a bit of satisfaction from the shocked look on the woman's face, the Asian man continued, "Correct me if I am wrong, but as her bodyguard, it seems that I have also come to hold the title of her personal assistant, and we," he spat, looking around the closet and grabbing a random outfit, "must be going, now, to her nine-thirty A. M. staff meeting, for which she is LATE."
Pausing, Wu Fei continued more coolly, "Vice Foreign Minster, put this on." He looked down at the miserable girl and shoved the dress at her. "We're leaving."
"But," Relena sputtered from the floor, "it's a sundress! I haven't worn this in almost six months, you can't make me wear this! And it's baby-pink, it goes against the new image I'm trying to portray! It makes me look like a child and-"
"Put it on NOW," Wu Fei ordered, face flushing slightly from rage.
The girl winced and held the pink dress to her head, as no doubt it was throbbing again, then muttered, "Okay, okay . . ."
Calming swiftly from habitual experience with the stubborn girl, the dark-haired agent nodded and asked – to the horror of Mrs. Dorlan, "Do you need help getting dressed?"
"Absolutely NOT!" exclaimed the older woman, pushing forward to stand between them. "You are not going to help my daughter get dressed."
From the floor, the Minster commanded, "I can dress MYSELF."
Blinking, her mother quieted, and Wu Fei gazed down at her, pleased with the suddenly firm tone to the young woman's voice. "Fine. I'll be waiting for you downstairs. We both will."
Nodding her head and brushing a hand through the wheat-colored strands of her messy hair, Relena added, "Dorothy will help me downstairs. Won't you, Dorothy," she called out, wincing still from the volume.
A yawn sounded, and then a high-soprano voice returned, "Of course, Miss Relena. We'll both get dressed," the taller girl continued brightly from behind the lilac canopy, "and meet your little bodyguard downstairs."
Rolling his eyes slightly at the smugness in Dorothy's voice, Wu Fei frowned at Mrs. Dorlan and headed from the closet. "Come, Madam. Oh, and Relena . . . Your brother is downstairs, along with his wife. Don't keep them waiting also."
Blinking, the half-nude girl sitting cross-legged on the floor nodded to him, surprise turning to guilt that washed over her face. "Oh, Wu Fei, I'm so sorry!" she called after him, voice jerking as she was obviously rushing to dress. "I'll be down right away!"
Heading toward the door of her bedroom, the older woman at his heels, Wu Fei remained silent. Instead of speaking, he opened the door for them both, gaze focused straight ahead once again as they headed down the hallway.
Behind him, Relena's mother appeared subdued. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry I was so upset, Wu Fei."
The agent didn't look at her as he headed for the stairs. The woman couldn't have helped her thoughtlessness when the matter turned to her daughter being unclothed with a man, alone. "No need to apologize, Madam. We are both doing our jobs." The idea was amusing, though he didn't show it.
"Of course," she spoke, voice hushed. "And, Wu Fei . . . my condolences."
He nodded, frowning at the walls that passed around them, and declined to reply.
(-(-(-)-)-)
Earth, Moscow
April 14th – 5:09 am
As Heero briskly walked along the hallways and corridors of the hotel, he ignored the elevators he passed and headed instead for the stairwell: a habitual utilization of any available physical exertion. With only a bit of a pause, he pulled open the door to the stairs and stepped out onto one of the metal landings – then looked up at the sound of a clanging footstep on the flight of steps above him.
With a shocked expression filling his violet eyes, Duo stood, halted, upon the stairs to Heero's right, one foot slightly extended as if just about to take another step. His long hair hung loose behind him, damp and dripping slightly.
The stoic ex-terrorist simply gazed up as the other boy winced and muttered, "I'll just . . . go back upstairs." Looking away quickly, Duo turned around and began to tramp back up the steps, boot-steps ringing jarringly on the metal and echoing through the stairwell.
"Duo." Heero's voice reverberated in the quiet, and the footsteps stopped, the auburn-haired teen pausing on the steps above and still facing away, though Heero could see the tensing of his shoulders in the faint illumination of the stairwell lights.
"Hey," Duo finally broke the silence, soft words given a tinny resonance in the chamber, "it's okay. I didn't wanna go downstairs that badly."
Waiting a beat, Heero walked further across the landing, then turned to stare up at Duo. "Are you always this irritable in the morning?"
With a sigh, the teenager above him turned and glared down at him, arms crossing and amethyst eyes virtually crackling with rage. "It's not morning; morning is when people get up and eat breakfast. It's five freaking A.M., everyone is asleep."
Heero nodded, unaffected. "You're not."
A scowl crossed Duo's surprised face and he spat, "What's it to you, anyways? I'm just an annoyance to you; let's leave it at that. We'll both sleep easier."
One dark brow rose above Heero's piercing gaze, navy-blue eyes unwavering.
"You're right. You are quite annoying."
"See?" the pilot above him glowered, teeth practically bared, "just like I sai-"
"That being the case," Heero cut him off, "why not be an annoyance to me outside." With that, he turned and began walking at a strong pace down the stairs, filling the air with the clang of his feet on the steps.
"What?!" As expected, behind him began the sound of a second pair of feet on the metal plates.
Clearing another landing and continuing down the flight of stairs, the dark-haired boy replied, "I said, 'why not be an annoyance to me outside'," he repeated, tone flat.
"Yes," the young man behind him returned tartly, "I heard that. What I wanna know is, why?"
Allowing himself a ghost of a smile at Duo's atypical anger, Heero told him, still facing forward, "Standing in a stairwell is an imprudent allocation of time. In forty-three minutes and four seconds, the sun will rise. Concrete stairwells without windows are somewhat lacking in transparency."
For a split second, they walked in quiet, the echoing metal reverberating off the walls. Then Duo said, scornful voice sounding slightly uneasy, "Well, duh. But why do you wanna see the sun rise anyways?"
They passed another floor, and Heero kept his eyes on the dimly lit stairway. "I've never missed a sunrise before," he spoke casually. "I'm not about to start now."
The two continued their trek down the stairs, thrust into a stunned silence that gradually became a comfortable hush . . . the only sound being the ringing of steel . . . a chorus like a dozen bells.