Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

Heero worked at the table, and Relena would shut herself in the attic for hours.

Sometimes he heard her shuffling things around. A few times he offered to help, knowing she was still recovering, but she only shooed him out. It was dusty as hell, and a lot of things had been left by the previous family who resided there. Apparently, Relena had found something to use for their masquerade. Whatever it was, it seemed like she was having a good time.

She would come downstairs with a handkerchief tied around her head to keep back her hair. Part of him wondered if this was who she really was, of if this was the sort of person she would have been had she been born in normal circumstances.

He noticed little bandages on her fingers sometimes, like she was pricking them by accident.

At one point, she came downstairs to take his measurements. Whatever she was making for him to wear, she was giving her work just about as much attention as she would writing a treaty for two countries. Heero worried about her, but knew that the work was easing her stress of knowing that she wasn't in control of her own life.

She would go to bed late.

Wake up early in the morning.

There was coffee and breakfast from when he started his own work. Muffins one day, scones the other. She baked too when she was nervous about something. Or, at least, that what she did in this little corner of the world. He vaguely wondered what she did at the capital when she was stressed. It was then that he realized he didn't really know that much about her.

She was a good person, she was driven. Relena was smart and giving, but not stuck-up about it. She wanted her own way, but was no inflexible. She was the perfect world leader.

But what did she like? All he knew was that she liked planting and baking. And dancing. Why did she like the things she did?

Why does she like me? It was a thought that he had refused to touch in a long time. Not since they first met. What was someone like her doing with someone like him?

Of course, he would rather die than asked her about it. Above everything, he did have his pride.

He stood in front of the mirror, looking at his costume. The mask covered the top half of his face, made from black silk. His costume was the Count of Monte Cristo, complete with black cape and everything. He had to admit that she had done a marvelous job. After altering some old clothes that she had found in the attic, one presumably left over by the previous owners, he fit the part perfectly.

He heard moving around upstairs in Relena's room. When they moved into the house, he had given her the master bedroom, and he slept in the guestroom. His curiosity perked, and he vaguely wondered what she had come up with. She had been so sure that she would come up with a costume that would shock even him.

Heero didn't believe it. Nothing shocked him.

There were footsteps coming down the stairs. Steps that sounded like heavy boots. That wasn't what he had been expecting. Turning around, he prepared to tell Relena to hurry up because they were going to be late.

His mouth dropped open.

She was dress in white breeches. A wide-shoulder uniform jacket matched the royal blue of the vest underneath, white showed underneath from where the jacket was open. The high collar was gold and black, the gold matching the tassels and the buttons of the coat. There was a blue cape draped around her shoulders that stopped at her waist, the whole costume was fitted to her figure.

Her hair was brushed back, braided, and pulled away from her face. Her cravat was even neatly starched and tied in the correct manner. A blue and white mask covered the top part of her face.

"Treize."

"I told you I could surprise you."

Relena was dressed like Treize Kushrinada. After the war he had become quite the hero, and everyone thought of him favorably. It was common knowledge, however, that the Peacecraft princess wouldn't have been caught dead in the same room with him. She had been right. No one would suspect who she really was dressed that way.

"Isn't it great?" she said, "I found an old uniform in the attic and adjusted it. There were enough odd and ends left over for my to make something accurate enough. Do you think it's alright?"

Treize Kushrinada. She had to pick bloody Treize. Heero didn't trust himself to say anything. Simply turning on his heel, he walked towards the door, "Come on, Relena. We'll be late."

"Wait."

He stopped at the front door. She walked towards him, and stopped for a moment. "What?"

Stepping an inch closer, she pressed against him, and kissed him.

He felt his back against the door. Her body pressed against his, and he could feel every inch of her as her lips stroked his. His hands started out gripping her arms, but then rest on her hips, pulling her closer.

Then closer again.

She sighed slightly as he moved his hands over her rear, and pressed her against him. It felt better than anything he could have imagined. Better than anything he could remember. Her warmth seeped into him, through her mouth, her hands threaded through his hair. His legs spread slightly letting her lean into him.

The uniform only outline her curves. It was driving him nuts. He growled when she bit his lip. She had a habit of that, he found, when they kissed. It didn't bother him. In fact, it only served to drive him further, to cause his blood pressure to shoot through the roof. If he didn't stop soon, all he'd want to do would be to drag her back into that little room of hers and keep her there for the rest of the night.

Maybe for the next few days.

Screw everything else.

Relena pulled away first. She smiled, but it was hard to see her entire expression because of the mask.

"We'd better head out," she said, stepping away from him and opening the door, "We wouldn't want to disappoint our neighbors."

Heero stood in the doorway to their little house, and watched her figure as she strolled in the front yard. He was wrong. She was exactly like Treize when she wanted to be. Confident and cunning and completely sure of everything move she made. She was still the aristocratic princess that she always was.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

With a scowl, Heero locked the door and made his way after her. As the wind blew past them, her hair and cape followed it. Just then, he could have sworn he heard Treize laughing.

a/n: So, I figure some people will like this chapter, and some won't. It was trying to come up with the most shocking thing to dress her up as, and that was what I came up with at the time. I hope it's not too ridiculous :D

Thank you for all the lovely reviews!