The Isle

by puzzlepuzzle

In the aftermath of the Second War, Athrun Zala vanished without a trace for seven years - Cagalli never thought to find him. But fate deviates when he comes to find her himself and a web of desire and deceit lies before them. Original Cover Art SEQUEL OUT. .

12. Chapter 11

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

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Chapter 11

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Aaron Biliensky sat or slumped, a huddled, crumpled figure in his superior's living room.

Going home to relax after an important, very urgent meeting had not seemed like the right thing to do, not when Cagalli's whereabouts weren't even known. He lived in a swanky little apartment, beautifully decorated and very uptown, a place for him to forget all about work. But he couldn't bear to go back just yet.

So he had come here to try and find clues, deluding himself into thinking that by being here, he would be doing them all a favour.

He gazed around dejectedly, thinking of how pensive his niece, Debbie, had looked while asking about Cagalli.

Cagalli was fond of children, Aaron had realised this a long time ago. She was particularly fond of little Debbie Arabella Biliensky, and Debbie was equally taken with her uncle's boss.

The room was a rather lovely one, with ornaments Aaron and Debbie had cajoled Cagalli into putting around. And the Security Council had finished their investigation, taking the tape away from the roped-off areas. The red and white tape had been removed recently, and it made Aaron feel slightly less uneasy, since he wasn't constantly reminded of murder scenes.

From afar, the tape seemed pretty, like candy-cane strips forming a perimeter around the grand old Atha Estate and manor. But it had been hung around the estate for nearly two months, warning all that the area was not for anyone to visit.

The Orb Security Council had found nothing suspicious that could be linked to Cagalli's disappearance. Her phone lines had been checked, and old letters rifled through, but there was nothing at all.

Aaron was allowed in now, since he was her personal aide. Even then, it had been hell trying to get in here. Bringing a seven year old child with him was definitely out of the question, never mind that Cagalli often insisted that they come together. The circumstances had changed drastically.

Wearily, he raised his head, massaging his nose bridge. If only he could help her somehow- just as she had helped him years ago-,

"I'm a wreck." He muttered. "And she knew it all along."

He looked at the comfortable clutter in the arrangement of her things, and it was telling of her ways, amidst all the grandeur and privilege that she had inherited. Because of this, he couldn't ignore how empty the house was, how it had been locked up for two months, since the morning she'd departed for Scandinavia. He missed Cagalli dreadfully.

The things were in slight disarray, a jacket flung carelessly on the sofa, some cushions displaced from the couches, and some files resting on the table. The investigators had not taken anything out of place, so it seemed that she had left only this morning.

A few pairs of shoes lay scattered at the side, and Aaron could imagine that Cagalli had sat there, rushing to choose and put on a pair before leaving for work in her car. The difference, Aaron thought dolefully, was that she had prepared a suitcase of documents and clothes for a three-day stay in Sweden, not expecting what the world was witnessing now.

There was even a note at the corner of the mantle, addressed to the house help who came weekly. Of course, the house hadn't been opened by anyone except the investigation team, and the house help had not been allowed in. Nobody was allowed in this house, now that it was under official investigation and out of bounds to almost everybody.

The note was scribbled hastily, Cagalli's script like a scrawl in her hurry. The instructions were that she had left the clothes that were to be sent for dry-cleaning in the main basket.

Clearly, Cagalli had expected a normal business trip, a visit out of formality. She must have expected to have arrived back in Orb soon after entering Scandinavia upon the Swedish Royal family's invitation.

But she had vanished- what other word could be used- the very day she had arrived.

"Shit, Cagalli." Aaron said heavily. "What a bloody mess you've left behind."

The Orb officials couldn't call it a kidnapping- it certainly didn't seem like one when no ransom was apparent. The embassy had waited day and night for a call from somebody, anybody, but none had came.

It wasn't an assassination either. Or at least, Orb could not openly accuse Scandinavia of planning an assassination. Granted, there had been a skirmish on the SS Rafael, the Sweden royal yacht.

But then, the Swedish royals and their guests had been hurt as well, twenty-eight minor casualties, four serious casualties, and one fatality. Moreover, the Swedish officials, on behalf of Scandinavia, claimed that it was a domestic affair that Orb had no business interfering in.

Of course, it didn't change the fact that Orb was now functioning, or attempting to, without their princess.

And Orb would not rest until they had found her, dead or alive. If she was alive, there would be an inquiry and investigation. If she was dead, well, there would be hell.

It was clear that Orb would react with great agitation if their beloved princess had been assassinated. The newspapers were not helping either.

Grimly, Aaron glanced at some that he'd picked up along the way.

The various newspapers on the table stared back at him, their headlines leaping at the viewer. All showed the same picture of Cagalli, very young; the youngest Orb had ever had- even her father had only assumed power at the age of twenty-five. She, however, had been leading Orb since she was nineteen. All the same, there was timelessness to her beauty and charisma.

Aaron stared at his friend and superior, wondering when he had ceased to see her as the Orb Princess and as a human. Had he even? Would Orb?

At this point in history, at this peak of patriotism, Aaron was sure that Orb loved Cagalli Yula Atha with even more fervour than the legendary Uzumi Nara Atha. Since the time that she had been reinstated during the Second War, she had been infallible. She ceased to be a human for Orb; she had become their pillar, a kind of goddess, dynamic and powerful.

Even now, the newspapers showed her lovely, smiling face and the bright, golden eyes, her hand waving to her people from where she was standing, in her signature sea-foam coloured gown. They called her the Amber Princess, and it seemed fitting- she seemed to be made of light and marble, not flesh and blood.

The media could find no other picture that would better elicit the response they hoped for. A wave of patriotism had risen the day she had vanished, and the image of the Orb Princess under the bold, accusing headlines evoked those very feelings. The media was a panderer to the public at the end of the day- if people felt patriotic, then they'd give something for Orb to be patriotic about.

No wonder that Orb was in a state of apprehension and constant fear for their leader. The congress was in a huge dilemma. Her people were demanding that the Orb military was sent into Sweden, if not, the whole of Scandinavia to find and get her back.

But the congress could not permit this. They were limbless without their leader as well, and the disunity amongst them was becoming quite apparent. Besides, they could not storm into Scandinavia and demand that she be produced from wherever someone had hid her. That would have been a breach of international territorial law, especially with Sweden's reluctance to let Orb enter Scandinavia.

The most recent statement from Scandinavia had angered Orb. Under no circumstances would Orb be permitted to send its troops into the region. This included the current situation, even when their leader had vanished while there on a diplomatic visit.

Just yesterday, Aaron had watched helplessly as the legislation voted to withdraw their ambassador. The Scandinavian ambassador and his family had been asked to leave Orb as well. Nobody would vote to keep and maintain diplomatic ties with Scandinavia, not when most of Orb was against it.

It seemed that war was on the horizon.

Some of Orb's most vital investors were pulling out, one by one, afraid that Orb would become economically and politically weakened by the lack of Cagalli Yula Atha's leadership. If Orb was going to fight a war with an Earth Alliance colony, then the footloose investors were not going to stand and be part of it. Jobs were being lost as companies rationalised, and people were lashing out at the Orb government.

Aaron was finding it difficult to keep calm under such pressure. On one hand, the ratings for the government were dropping like dead birds, and on the other hand, the legislation was breaking apart from within. As the permanent secretary, it was frightening to watch. As a friend, it was distressing to witness.

Already, Aaron was not hearing just mere suggestions that the Princess had arranged for her own abduction- he was hearing outright accusations from some council members, claims that were devastating to Cagalli's honour.

Some were leaping at the opportunity to dismiss Cagalli's disappearance as a selfish, irresponsible abandoning of her duties.

"She got cold feet. She was always looking to shirk her duties. She'd had enough of the job- she's twenty-five now, and she's tired of working for Orb. She didn't want to go through an arranged marriage, not even for Orb's sake. She ran away from the responsibility. She knew she would never live up to her father's legacy. She was always a bit questionable. Is she really his daughter, I mean, legitimately? She came out of nowhere- never saw her until she was fifteen. Then she disappeared for some time before coming back to see Lord Uzumi -bless his soul- die. Remember how she got herself reinstated during the Second War? The whole Seiran House was crushed by her so she could have that seat!"

Aaron fumed. They had no right to be speaking like that. If only they knew how hard she tried for all of them-

Many within the parliament council were becoming swayed by such talk, and they would soon think to vote for a replacement head, since Orb ultimately needed a leader. Aaron, however, would not hear of such a thing.

Ledonir Kisaka had returned, even before Aaron had managed to contact him and ask him to return. Unfortunately, the council had disapproved of Kisaka becoming a proxy leader, since he had been out of politics for quite some time. That was the official reason- the unofficial reason, Aaron realised, was because Kisaka would crush the chances of individual council members trying to assume control.

The minister of finance and the minister of international affairs were two such members. Without Cagalli to be around, they were throwing their weights about, trying to turn the other members against her so they would pick another leader amongst them. And irritatingly enough, they were in the key positions to use Orb's current sentiments to their advantage.

"Those bloody chameleons!" Aaron snarled to himself.

But if these chameleons could find enough support from the people, whether Cagalli returned or not would not matter. No wonder, the minister of finance and the minister of international affairs were subtly encouraging Orb to pick an aggressive stance- war if necessary- where Scandinavia was concerned. It made them popular with the angry people, and it made the council even more fragmented than before.

"Where are you, Cagalli?" Aaron said wearily. He looked at the empty living room. Certainly not in here. His eyes travelled to the table, and he found himself looking at the newspapers again.

'Vanished!' The official headline blared.

'Abducted!' A less politically-correct one accused.

'Murdered!' A popular tabloid suggested.

'A conspiracy!' Another tabloid agreed.

Personally, Aaron wasn't sure himself.

Some were claiming that she had run away. The political system in Orb tied in very closely with the hierarchy of royals, and she was at the top of the hierarchy and therefore a pawn of the system. An arranged marriage was necessary if she didn't marry a suitable person by the time she was twenty-six.

And she was twenty-five, and barely anyone had been seen together with her. Perhaps, she had fled, disillusioned by the oppressive system. It wasn't an uncommon system- many monarchies and semi-monarchies in the Earth Alliance regions had these systems. Whether Cagalli Yula Atha was willing to go through with it or not…

"But she wouldn't do that!" Aaron thought furiously. "Never in a million years!"

The ringing of his cell phone jolted him out of his thoughts, and he put it to his ear hastily. "My greetings to you, sir."

He was surprised to hear a gentle, almost benign voice coming from one of Zaft's Head Generals.

"I've just arrived in Orb."

"That's good to hear, sir," Aaron stood up and adjusted his clothes frantically. "I'll go and fetch you now-,"

"No need," the general of Zaft defense technology said quietly. "I'm already on my way to Cagalli's house. I met Britannia's premier along the way."

"Oh." Aaron could not think of anything else to say. "Sir, if James Marlin is there, then-,"

"Don't worry. He's coming with me. He won't have it any other way. Mr. Biliensky-,"

"Yes?" Aaron was finding it hard to speak. Once both men arrived, his plans, based on Kisaka's advice, could then be put into action. It was time for something to be done, something that could save them all before another war erupted.

The voice on the other end of the line was a very calm, quiet one, but Aaron could hear the pain in it. It was a direct reflection of his own.

"Thank you for helping my sister."

---

When Aaron Biliensky had come to her office six years ago, Cagalli realised that she was in for a bumpy ride.

It wasn't so much his razor wit or sardonic tongue, the inconsistencies and idiosyncrasies a man as intelligent as him was prone to. It was more of his bullheadedness and his habit of knocking nails directly and mercilessly on the heads.

He looked like a mild, well-tempered, intelligent man with a penchant for smart dressing- until he opened his mouth.

Within a week of work, he had drawn up a report of every mistake she'd made in work, a list of things she had to look out for, and irritating things like that. The list had even included her choice of work attire- he disagreed with the colour of one shirt she had worn.

He had written advice she had not asked for where a shirt was concerned, all in his neat, cursive writing on a post-it, "If you happen to look like Emissary Clyne, pastels work. But you do not. In short, burn it."

She was used to being compared to Lacus in a thousand ways, from their styles of diplomacy, to their ways with words, their styles of leadership, everything that had made Cagalli feel mostly on par. Not for nothing, were they commonly known as the Princesses of Peace.

To have Aaron Biliensky ignore all her merits and compare her to Lacus in this manner- it certainly smarted.

If anything, Aaron was an extreme opposite to the system in her office. She was used to a large amount of tact and respect in her office especially after the Second War- but this man seemed incapable of giving what she thought was her due.

He was her personal aide as well as the Permanent Secretary of the Orb legislature, but he was like a personal minder, a more annoying version of Mana. Mana had been motherly- but Aaron was plain bitchy.

He was always telling her what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. It drove her mad. He got on her nerves, appearing out of nowhere, always smartly dressed, hair neatly combed, pointing out that this and that didn't make sense, that this and that didn't work.

Many, including Cagalli, had made the mistake of retorting something along the lines of, "If you're so good at spotting mistakes, then why don't you do the whole damn thing yourself?"

It was self-defeating .For Aaron would put his hand to the task, and there was not a single thing that could be said about his abilities or his high standards of work. It drove her crazy, it really did.

Aaron often disposed advice she was rational enough to understand, but irrational enough to get irritated over. So in a show of childish pettiness that surprised herself. At the ripe old age of twenty-one, she put earwigs into his office mug. She knew he was scared to death of those.

For the finishing touch, she put a couple of those under his files too, which she knew he would lift to smack the first earwig he saw.

His screams had rung out at roughly ten in the morning, and those had not stopped until ten-twenty. Someone had rushed in to find him backed against a wall, hollering every curse in the book.

And in her own office, she had laughed until she had cried. She never admitted to playing that nasty trick on him, but he was no fool.

They could never get along after that incident, he making snide comments about her performance, she finding ways to assign him the most difficult tasks possible.

But somehow, she found her work becoming even better with him around, and he was always able to accomplish everything she put in his way. A grudging sort of respect was built between them in the months after he had arrived. A few memorable events occurred and they began to fall in love with each other's company.

By the time his first year as the permanent secretary was over, they were the fastest of friends. He wasn't like Lacus- he wasn't her sister-in-law, that sainted lady, a paragon of all virtues. Cagalli found no obligation to watch what she said with Aaron, no need to be responsible and well-behaved with someone who wasn't Lacus.

They spoke about everything- work, food, hates, loves, and even scandalous things. Despite his sterling reputation and effortless grasp of current affairs and politics, he was a gossipmonger with a thirst for the finer things in life. For her 'finishing education', he had an entire collection of chick-lit he dumped onto her.

"Bitch-fights, divide-and-conquering techniques, dealing with unfaithful bastards, handling huge spats; it's all the same as politics and running a government," He declared. "A girl's got to know what a girl's got to know"

"How's this one?" Cagalli said curiously, picking out a random one.

"Not bad," Aaron said distractedly, unpacking a few more. "If I remember correctly."

She flipped to the centre and began reading aloud.

"-she stared at him and said in a sultry voice, Come here and touch my-," Cagalli clapped a hand over her mouth, stopping herself from reading a random line and looked at Aaron, turning a funny shade. But he was already engrossed in another book.

"Ooh- read this one, Cagalli, it tells you how to get a man so needy for you that he does whatever you say. I remember using it myself. Works like a charm, that one. Men love the colour red, when it's done properly anyway."

It wasn't that she didn't love Lacus- it was just different. Lacus was too far away, too removed from the struggles Cagalli went through. Lacus was someone she called twice a week, a guardian angle who spoke so gently that Cagalli wondered if Lacus had ever felt hatred before. Aaron was different- he was there, everyday, in every sense.

He told her sensational stories that she listened to in fascination. Those involved all sorts of things- scandal, wild partying and things she had never thought about previously. He was like an older sister, filling her in on the parts of teenager-hood that she had seemed to miss completely.

Sometimes, he dared her to hook up with a good-looking man, and she dared him to fling himself at a pretty woman. But despite their double-daring, they never attempted anything- she was much too inhibited, and he was gay and much too classy.

They even read trashy novels together, laughing at the love scenes and the cheesy descriptions. She was rather ignorant about many of these things, although she never admitted it to Aaron. And she thought it was fortunate that he was around to provide her material that made her less ignorant. Aaron hardly noticed this- in fact, he didn't know that she only understood half of topics like love, relationships and sex.

Those things felt so distant from the stark-white Parliament building, the office they gossiped in, the place they slaved away in.

Because she didn't know any better, because he was the only one she dared to speak with about these things, and because she heard only the bad side of things, she felt uncomfortable with men once they were outside the office. Aaron was hardly a man, he was more than that- a girl's best friend.

They cemented their friendship with everything from drinking parties with their colleagues to going for mad shopping sprees. Aaron was a firm believer in retail therapy, unlike Cagalli, who preferred sleeping off the stress. His sense of fashion could be both so zany and so fresh he seemed wasted in politics.

So Cagalli relied on him to bargain with shopkeepers- he could somehow slash everything by half when he opened his mouth to point out flaws in a perfectly good shirt hanging off the rack.

And Aaron often sailed over to her house, straightening her things airily as if he lived there instead of her. He would comment on this and that while knowing that she would never actually throw away the furniture that 'just doesn't work for this place'.

It was then that Cagalli realised that the house was a beautiful, barren sort of cage, one she had lived most of her life in. Every piece of furniture was where it had always been, the rooms furnished the way it had always been, and even the pictures still showed the same sceneries and the curtains the same colour schemes. But with Aaron, that was changing. Slowly, surely, he had added in new things, replaced certain things, and it seemed that her privacy was being encroached upon.

He was always promising to bring over new ornaments, pretty curtains, that sort of thing the next time he came, and what surprised her was that he actually did.

Her living room was done in Rococo style after accumulating all his little touches, and the kitchen looked like something out of 'The Stepford Wives', thanks to his details. He had even replaced an old "Kiss the Cook" apron that Kisaka had left behind with a gorgeous gingham one.

"I don't see why you can't cook and look fabulous at the same time," He declared, taking out his own frilly, but absolutely lovely apron.

Aaron was not one who could abide by ugliness or mediocrity. "Shit, Cagalli, look at that clock on the mantel piece."

"What's wrong with it?" She had said warily. She was looking at her living room, admiring it, but wondering if anything in there had belonged originally to her. Aaron's specially-ordered tea set was there, a new glass table he'd gotten from a 'fantastic little thrift store', new curtains with lace patterns he'd picked out, chocolate and cinnamon scented candles his niece had brought over…

"It's so…so wrong! It's square and brown! Who needs a brown clock in the middle of this treasure-trove?" He waved his hands like he was conducting a philharmonic orchestra. "I'm going to get you a lovely grandfather clock you can put- let's see now- let me think- right here!"

She looked where he was gesturing and wrinkled her nose. "There's a table there, Aaron. I think it was a family heirloom my father inherited. The newspapers would have a field day about me throwing away a valuable piece of the Atha heritage."

She wasn't emotionally attached to the table- she was indifferent to it. But now that he was threatening to replace it with something else, she felt indignant and hesitant. She didn't want any change, even if it would be a beautiful one with Aaron's judgement involved- change was pain.

"With a piece of history like that, it's better off being burnt!!' He declared disdainfully, un-crossing then re-crossing his long, elegant legs. His good-looking but somehow comical face showed something like disdain.

He had his way, eventually.

They often cooked dinner together at her house, everything from fillet mignon, a dish he'd taught her from scratch, to soufflés which soared for him and sank for her. They often ate dinner this way, eating everything they'd cooked together- Aaron could not bear waste, despite his thinness.

He taught her how to put on make-up, and he instilled discipline at her vanity table. He had swept past the table one day, throwing expired eyeliner, foundation of the wrong shade, perfume that had become unfashionable, lipstick of 'blah tones', and other miscellaneous things into a floral plastic bag.

"Hey!" Cagalli had protested. "Those don't belong to me!"

"Shit, Cagalli," He had said accusingly, "Those were at your table! And I'm glad you feel ashamed of them enough to deny being acquainted with these. Expired eyeliner indeed!"

Cagalli had blanched. "I mean- no, a former housekeeper kept giving them to me and I never used them, but you know, they were gifts, and well-,"

"Out they go," He had said firmly, tying the bag up in a knot. The things rattled indignantly in the bag, but he ignored the sound of everything clinking.

She had taken a deep breath, and said weakly, "Well, I guess I don't need those anyway, so I'll just tell Mana that I finished using those and-,"

"That's right, honey." Aaron had said assertively. "You tell her that you don't need those. You need these."

He produced another bag and dumped everything onto her table.

She gaped at the ten different shades of everything, and turned a colour of her own- white. "Aaron! You-,"

"I got you the best." Aaron had said proudly, "Everything that matches your skin tone is here. Aren't I clever?"

She had opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it, then opened it again, lost for words.

"Oh don't stand there trying to thank me," He had said brightly. "Sit down!"

She could hardly protest.

From then on, he insisted that she never step out of the house without wearing lipstick.

"What's wrong with my lips?" Cagalli had said, getting thoroughly annoyed at his bossiness." Don't they look fine without lipstick?"

He had put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. "That's the bloody problem! You have perfect lips, and you know it, so you take it for granted! All you have to do is to dab on some red, and you look fabulous, but other women have to use bloody lip-liners! And you have the cheek to be so lazy!"

She had made a sputtering sound and turned back to the mirror, trying to see what looked perfect about a mouth she had had since forever. "Wha-? B-but, that's not the point!"

"Then what is?" Aaron had said fiercely, as if she'd mortally insulted him.

"It's inconvenient- wearing this stuff."

"Oh please," He had said, rolling his eyes and his voice growing agitated. "You're lucky enough to be born with good looks that this stuff enhances. At least you don't have a face that this stuff must correct. Get it? This stuff enhances what you have; it doesn't change or correct anything in your case. There's nothing to correct."

"Really?" She had said, embarrassed and somewhat flattered. She looked at the mirror again, trying to see if her reflection was becoming her friend for once.

"Believe me, honey." He said, leaning over her shoulder and looking directly into her reflection. "If you come in for work without at least a lip stick to make use of those fabulous lips, I will execute you personally."

Strangely enough, as he had declared, a dab of lipstick and nothing else created an unprecedented number of date-hopefuls. It was very strange to have so many people complimenting how lovely she looked when all she'd done was add a sliver of colour onto her mouth.

"But it works," He had said proudly, when she had noted this. "Now, all you have to do is to tell them to sit and roll over."

He chased away many suitors, particularly those who wore clothes that looked terrible on them. He was like the fashion police- sniffing out the 'fakey-leather', criticizing the cut of this and the cut of that, and being unreasonable when Cagalli tried to defend the poor victims of his vicious tongue.

"Maybe," She had suggested, "They aren't able to discern what looks good and what doesn't. Maybe they're just not like you, Aaron. You can't scream at them for wearing jeans."

"Cagalli," He had said in all seriousness, "I'm not screaming at those men for wearing jeans. I'm upset because they aren't even wearing fitted jeans, and they're waltzing in here asking you to marry them! How ridiculous it that? You can look casual; you can wear simple clothes, but for god's sake, get those tailored! Someone needs to introduce them to tailors who care about every damn stitch, cloth that works just right, and a cut that makes them look like they own the world. If you have to pay the world for the clothes, then that's just it."

She fought back a laugh. "All my ratty shorts are gone because of you. It's mad that I wear dresses in the house."

"Those aren't dresses with a capital 'D', you know, like, the formal gown-thingies. Those you have are real, proper clothes," He said firmly. "And what's wrong with those wrap dresses? Those are flattering, casual enough for house wear and down the street, and perfect for 'I-feel-fat' days. Besides, I made you get them in six different colours, and twelve versions, so you can't complain about not having variety with clothes you wear at home! What's wrong with those?"

She smiled helplessly. "Nothing."

"Exactly! Those are perfect for home wear, and perfect if someone happens to pop by your house. I swear- I dreamt that I wasn't in proper clothes and I had to answer the door- I woke up screaming."

"You're the only one who pops by my house, unless you count your seven-year old niece." She pointed out. "And a forty-one year old house helper and an ancient gardener, both of whom do not appear at the doorstep when I am around."

"You never know." He said stubbornly. "One of these days, your Prince Charming, maybe the postman, or a delivery person, or the newspaper boy, is going to turn up at your door step. He's going to be a total hunk, and then you'll see why those wrap dresses were a perfect investment."

"This is coming from the personal aide who told the German ambassador to piss off for wearing non-fitted jeans."

"And forty-three other incompetent buggers who fancy themselves as your potential husband." He added proudly. "Do you remember that rat-faced Swiss banker? I couldn't believe he came in here with all his gold teeth shining with a bunch of wilting roses in his hand!"

She rolled her eyes. "Why do you bother with them anyway?"

"Because I won't have anyone who's not worth your time prancing in here!" He said incredulously, as if she'd asked the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

And she was so touched, she didn't know what to say.

He threatened the press when they tried to write nasty things, ("Shit Cagall, only I get to say nasty things about you!") he squashed the toes of some Chinese official who offered her dried seahorses- a delicacy- as a present, and- oh, she'd be lost without him.

He mostly invited himself over, raiding her closet to pick out clothes he had insisted she buy, clothes she claimed she had no opportunity to wear.

He sometimes brought Debbie, over, an adorable child who loved dressing up as much as he did. The three of them had enjoyed many an evening together, be it playing cards, eating dinner, walking in the gardens, anything. He was the perfect girlfriend for her, something he was very proud of.

But sometimes, when she was in that house, all alone, it was her who picked up the phone to call him, hoping that he would visit. He lived an hour's drive away from her.

And without fail, he would come each time she called- exactly an hour after she'd called. So many things cemented the friendship and partnership they'd established for six years.

Of course, the real cement to their friendship had been provided when she had killed someone for him.

---

She dreamt of Aaron Biliensky and the angle his arm had been twisted and broken at. She dreamt of her hands, wrapped around a pistol, her hands and face stained in blood, and she dropped the pistol.

She was screaming a silent cry even though Aaron had found his way to her and was wrapping his arms protectively around her.

She woke up, frightened and calling out for help, the way she had for a few weeks after that incident. She hadn't done this for some time- it horrified her that she was remembering what she should have left behind, a long time ago.

But the dream left Cagalli quickly- she had trained herself to ignore any signs that suggested that she was affected by anything. And she swung her legs out of the bed and tread on the floor.

The floor was bare of the rugs the previous room had. The ceiling had changed, the floor, the bed, the pillow. She tried to think of something, drew a blank, and gave up.

She took a few cautious steps, testing her legs. Everything hurt, as if she'd been battered.

Then a wave of fear coursed into her when she realised that she was recalling the pain of her former injuries. She had been battered then, hit with a chair until the chair had broken apart, slammed over her back.

She had healed well- but the memory persisted at times. Here, on The Isle, she was remembering everything she wanted to shut out.

Athrun was turning out to be exactly what she'd expected- a bad influence. When she was with him, everything she wanted to forget seemed to present itself again and again. Even an incident she had successfully put out of her mind for quite some time was haunting her again.

Bitterly, she rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her mind from any thoughts.

The door was unlocked, and she slipped out, flinching as a wind caught around her and blew. So they were on the sea now. Cagalli could recall the warmth of his body as she'd fallen asleep, but other than that, she remembered little else.

The waves were bobbing merrily, and she half-expected a dozen other boats to be coming near, like it was a sea-market.

But other than the shining blue and grey surface, dappled in light and the sounds of circling gulls, there was nothing in sight.

A few meters away, Athrun paused, his hand on the railing of the stairway.

This was déjà vu. About two months ago, when he'd stolen onto the SS Rafael, he'd watched her stand on the ship deck, just as she was doing now. The difference was the daylight that was flooding onto her. But just as she had been then, she was unaware that he was watching her.

He stared at her, feeling something move in him. Her emotions were intense and almost extreme; she hated and loved so deeply that she was always in danger of being like an over wound clock. Perhaps, she had already influenced him in this way- he loved her so deeply that he wasn't sure if it was love or hatred.

Cagalli's arms were akimbo, and she was exquisite, golden hair long now with months of going untrimmed. It was like a gleaming shawl, all over her shoulders and in the wind, like wings of molten fire.

She stretched out her arms, as if to hold something of sunlight, and he thought for one dazed moment, that she was made of light.

Disconcerted, but somehow overjoyed to feel the wind on her face, she pattered, barefoot, over to the yacht's side. She leaned over, tiptoeing to see into the murk depths of the water. Then she began to relax a little.

"I'd be careful, if I were you."

Cagalli turned to see Athrun moving up the cramped stairways that she had as well.

He smiled a small smile that made something tighten and tingle in her, and she realised that she was colouring rapidly. She'd admitted that she had feelings for him. If he was going to use it against her now, she had only herself to blame.

She disliked it when he flirted- she mistrusted men who flirted with her and she did not want to mistrust him. Moreover, she was helpless against him when he flirted, which made her feel resentful.

If it had been another man, she would have taught him a lesson. She would have led him on and turned against him quite suddenly, making him swear off her for good. She did not believe that any man actually wanted her- if they seemed to, they were after something else- Orb, her inheritance, her power, but certainly not her.

But he was another matter. He knew her ways and he knew what she felt for him.

It struck her that she was wearing his shirt, and with a blush, she realised that she must have been changed out of her slip.

"Keep that on." He said mildly, reading her thoughts. "We couldn't carry out to sea in a slip, and the maids were busy packing some of your things. I thought it was best if you borrowed a shirt first. The maids changed you out of your shift."

"You should have woken me so I could get changed." Cagalli said ruefully.

"I couldn't bear to."

He smiled, as if there was nothing particularly strange about anything in the world.

And Cagalli wondered if Athrun was an anomaly where the Zala Lineage was concerned. He did not have the eyes of his ancestors, those flinty chips of stone- he had his mother's eyes.

She stared at him, aware that he had the capacity for cruelty, just like those whose blood had supplied his. The question was whether he had the affinity for cruelty.

Then suddenly, he said in a very different, flat tone altogether, "You put up a good show at Rochester's. Thank you."

"Everyone at Rochester's place-," She said hesitantly. "Do you know them?"

"Yes." Athrun said, with the smallest, infinitesimal pause. "But with that crowd, you'll never know yourself."

She laughed suddenly and sincerely, relieved. She didn't know why she felt that way. Maybe it was that suggestion; that he might have known many people, but they had mattered very little to him.

And Cagalli held out her hand, as she would a truce.

He took it and shook it firmly, then before she could protest, drew her with the hand still in his, to him. Her hand was cold and small, but his was warm. They were inches apart, and she was afraid he could hear her breathing.

He looked at her with the enigma she could never understand completely, those emerald eyes. "As I said earlier, you performed well. This is your due. But it's not wise to try escaping from the middle of an ocean. There's no land nearby and there are only two people on this yacht."

Something in his voice chilled her. He could read her thoughts, she thought furiously. She hated that about him. No wonder her thoughts were worth so little to him when he could simply read them off her.

"I wasn't thinking about that." She lied immediately. "And I won't escape when you aren't looking."

He smiled coolly, his eyes warning her not to. "The boiler room and the bridge are off-limits."

And Athrun thought about the call he had made from the bridge, just before she had awoken. Explaining that he had brought her away for a while had been terribly troublesome. While he didn't inform all the Eyes, the Seventh Eye had reacted with enough agitation for all. Tom had nearly punctured Athrun's eardrums with his exclamation.

But Athrun had insisted on it. Nothing Tom advised could change his mind. Ultimately, Athrun wanted to get away from The Isle for a bit, with her. Nobody could stop him.

Besides, they were already far out at sea- there was no way of heading back to The Isle without his direct hand in it.

Then he let go, and she stepped back, charged from the contact.

The awkwardness and sensitivity to him increased, although he was the first to look away.

"How is this thing operating while you're standing here?" Cagalli inquired.

He looked at her in amusement. "Haven't you heard of auto-pilot modes? When the pilot or the captain and all the bridge members have to take toilet breaks, and if they all have to go at the same time for some reason-,"

"Right," Cagalli said hastily. His lip curled in a sneer, and she glared back at him. Her head was clearer than it had been, and her senses were assaulted by the slightly salty tinge in the air, but it was all very good.

There was a strange, squeaking noise behind them.

She turned back to the sea, instantly on alert, and saw porpoise tails. Forgetting everything, Cagalli squealed and waved to them, extending her hands.

They squawked at her in funny, squelching noises, and danced their grey forms in the deep waters.

Distracted, Cagalli was talking, babbling to the animals in her excitement and joy and being under an open sky once more. She looked like a small child, clapping her hands and imitating the noises the porpoises were making.

He looked at her, smiling.

She felt something for him. Obviously, she would.

She was lonely, frightened in this foreign place, desperate for a friendly face, for some kindness. Naturally, she would remember the Athrun Zala he had been in the past.

That was why she felt something for him and experienced the confusion he had seen each time he acted as her captor. She had not reconciled the fact that he was not the same person she remembered. Of course, she felt something for him still.

Despite what he'd said to her, he knew that it wasn't enough to have just that.

It wasn't. Nothing was ever enough until he had her entirely and completely. That had been his motivation for wanting to be with her that night, to have her in his arms for a few hours at least, and to hold her like she belonged to only him.

It wasn't the case that she wasn't good enough for him. In fact, she was far too good to deserve someone like him touching her. He had wanted to- that was a fact. He wanted to have her physically, let him love her, to feel her against him and remind him that he was still human and that he knew how to feel.

But even then, even if he had done that, it wouldn't have been enough, because she didn't really love him. So he couldn't take her- because in the morning, he would wake with her and she would be cold and even more distant than before, and he would be completely destroyed this time.

He had fallen in love with her all over again, even more deeply than he had in the past. But the same couldn't be said for her- especially not when he was her captor, not purely Athrun Zala.

Cagalli was humming to herself. The shapes below her spun in the water, their long noses protruding, clearly unafraid of the woman-child.

Animals were like that with their instincts. They knew who to fear and who not to.

Humans didn't know- their instincts were not as honed. So it was safer not to trust at all.

Despite the pain in him, he smiled, watching her enjoy the little happiness he could give her.

---

The hours flashed by quickly. Cagalli never even noticed them passing, let alone Athrun's absence, but she was too preoccupied exploring the yacht. It was a relatively small one when she compared to whatever she had been used to. But it was still spacious, with one long corridor with two staircases on either end that led to the deck.

The passageway had five cabins, including a bathroom. Two connected rooms were locked- the bridge and boiler, she assumed.

As he said, escaping was quite impossible. There was no way of her escaping with this ship, unless she jumped overboard and convinced the porpoises to ride her back to Orb.

Naturally, Cagalli decided to watch and wait. But in the mean time, there was no reason why she couldn't enjoy herself- even if he was around. Or perhaps, because he was around.

The thought of this made her blush, and she decided to think of other things.

The deck was an expanse of space, divided by a few pillars. A pool beckoned to her, wide, rippling with some wind, deep and inviting. There was also a small boat at the side, a rescue boat, presumably.

She moved to it, thinking very quickly, but to her disappointment, she found that it was locked.

Glancing around, she decided to return to it later. She scarcely realised it, but a defense mechanism was present in her. Each time she was afraid or displaced, she carried on as if she had been used to her surroundings since the time of her existence. Even now, the lingering memories of the past clung to her, and she distanced herself from it by trying to immerse herself in the present.

She found a simple bathing suit and a towel in her closet, and proceeded to the pool.

Upon arrival, she stared at its length and depth. And something made a polite cough from the other side.

"You!" She exclaimed.

"Me." He said wryly.

Athrun was reclining on a white pool lounge, reading. Perhaps he had been here all this time.

Cagalli noticed that the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. Although there was nothing perceptibly different about his appearance, the recollection of his bare torso made her colour slightly. How fitting that he was reading War and Peace- perhaps he knew how to wage a silent war against her and her better sense.

"I suppose you're going to swim." He said languidly, casting an eye on her attire.

"I am," Cagalli said snootily, "Because I'm not preoccupied with my plans for world domination, you and your Leo Tolstoy."

The pool on the deck was gorgeous and azure. She sprang and slipped into it, splashing merrily and laughing, pretending that she was a sea creature as well.

He did not like looking at her, how modest but beautifully fitting her bathing suit was. Every single curve she had was clear from the outline of the suit, and he tried to insist that he was immune to those.

While the book was quite good, he had read it before. She was clearly more interesting to look at. But at least the book was less likely to make him ambush her in ways that would make even Dearka Elsman blush twelve different shades.

He muttered, "Noisy tomboy."

She splashed randomly to spite him and said tartly, "If you don't like what I'm doing, you might as well go below deck."

It struck him that Cagalli was trying to annoy him out of the area, so he smiled irritatingly and said suggestively, "But I do like what you're doing."

Apparently, Cagalli was not well-versed with innuendo. She looked puzzled, not quite catching his insinuations, not really understanding what he meant. But when he allowed his eyes to linger slowly on her neck, trailing down to her breasts and her hips, her mouth fell open.

She blanched, turning pink.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She said weakly. She folded her arms over her chest.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't." He said lazily, flipping a page he was scarcely reading at all.

Cagalli looked enraged. The tips of her ears were pink. "Let's see now. Because it's outrageous?"

He merely laughed, enjoying her anger and embarrassment. "Surely, you know that men are either horny or gay?"

"That's what Aaron said!" Cagalli said, amazed. Then she realised how ignorant she sounded and clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

Athrun raised and eyebrow. "And why would he have to educate you on that? Didn't you already know?"

She slapped the water with her palms, irritated that he was asking questions she couldn't answer. So what if she had ended up going to good ol' gay Aaron to ask about the male psyche for lack of people to ask? So what if she hadn't taken well to going out on dates and had been incredibly awkward when men had tried the usual hanky-panky?

"Were you this brazen seven years ago?" Cagalli countered.

Athrun considered this for a while, wondering why he had never tried flirting with her so openly in the past. He had wanted to, that was a given. But he had never been playful, teasing with her. He had been intent on treating her the right way, doing what he had never done with other girls. But somehow, he'd left out what a relationship needed to function in his blind desire to hold onto her.

And perhaps, Athrun had never found a need to flirt with Cagalli in the past- he'd assumed that he would always have time to get to know her better if he didn't already know her. The presumptuousness he had displayed!

"I was preoccupied with being gentlemanly." He said after a pause. "I behaved like a saint-cum-monk, if I remember correctly."

"You were a gentleman," She said stubbornly, trying to delude herself into thinking that she disliked this side of Athrun that she hadn't quite seen before.

"Was I?" He said, his smile amused and his eyes an intense forest colour that made her tingle. "I wish I had taken you up on that offer when we were about eighteen and I was Alex Dino."

"What?" Cagalli said warily.

Athrun leaned back, looking at her with a feline, almost predatory quirk of his lips. "We were at one of those gala events, and you stole away to a gazebo in the garden when everyone was supposed to be in the hall."

She shivered, trying not to notice the similarities in that incident and the night they'd shared at Rochester's Manor. Why was the past being repeated when she was trying so hard to forget it?

"And if I remember, Cagalli," He said in a soft, almost silken voice, "You asked me to kiss you over and over again."

"I didn't!" She denied vehemently.

"You did." Athrun said wryly. "Except that I refused to, telling you that a princess needed more restraint."

Her words carried the frantic embarrassment in her. "Well, you did the right thing. And don't bring that up ever again, that incident. I was young and foolish and probably tipsy. But I'm not like that anymore. I'm glad you did the right thing."

"Did I?" He mused. "I'd like to think that I've progressed since then."

"How so?" Cagalli said, dry-mouthed, regretting her question the minute she'd asked it.

His eyes lingered on hers and she found herself trembling as he looked at her.

"If I want something," Athrun said quietly, "I won't do something as silly as to push it away, hoping that another chance will present itself for me to take it."

He was looking at her very directly, and she bit her lips, feeling uncomfortable.

"And what about you?" He inquired, smiling in a benign, insincere way. "Do you still imitate traffic lights whenever a man makes a pass at you? And are you still trigger happy where shins are concerned?"

Her blood boiled. It was just like him to bring up an incident she wanted to bury for good and rub it in her face. Trust him to hit below the belt where her lack of luck with men was concerned.

But two could play at that game.

He was watching her lazily, triumphant with her lack of a comeback. He looked beautiful, almost dangerous like a cat, his fine features glinting in the sun as a gilded coin would.

"But Athrun," She said in a suspiciously breathy voice.

His eyebrows shot up as he watched her lower her eyelids until she was looking at him in a very strange, undeniably sultry manner. In fact, her next words almost caused him to fall off his chair.

"I've learnt. I've learnt so much since then."

He stared at her, feeling a stab of jealousy that she had probably moved on after they had ended their relationship. But this was hypocrisy, he knew. Athrun had tried to move on- nothing should have prevented her from doing likewise.

"Pray," Athrun said dryly, in a somehow suggestive manner he was trying to embarrass her with. "Will you be so kind as to demonstrate what you have learnt?"

"But Athrun," She said, making her lips moist with the thin, pink tip of her tongue. "You'd have to come closer-,"

She trailed off, making him swallow and lean forward, towards her.

And Cagalli pulled herself out of the water, her legs automatically curving so that her thighs and knees met like the bend of a seven. She sat at the edge of the pool, her palms flat on the wet stone.

He thought vaguely, that she looked like a mermaid, her golden hair all over her shoulders, her amber eyes watching him, her legs together behind her as she sat on them like a coiled tail. He was in danger of toppling off from his chair at this point.

Her bare arms were white from the absence of the sun, and her chest was heaving slightly and voluptuously.

He thought of the time he'd ended up trying to kill her when they'd first met, before she'd screamed. And when she had, he'd suddenly noticed that his arm was sandwiched between soft, rather generous breasts. Those had been camouflaged beneath a bulky, angular jacket, but the soldier was in fact, female. And very female, at that.

He wondered how the hell they'd embarked on this conversation. Something was thumping in his chest like a rock being thrown about. It annoyed him. But he couldn't analyse that surge of irritation- he was too caught up with Cagalli.

She sat very still, watching him with her golden eyes.

Then suddenly, she gathered water in her palms and shot it at him. He rolled aside in time, but ended up with a wet arm.

He scowled. "I came up for some sun. Not random spurts of water."

Cagalli responded by splashing some more. He made a sound of discontentment and watched her dart back again into the large pool like a nymph fleeing from Apollo, wondering why she was so alive in the water.

But having spent about three months in a single room, he could guess why. His gaze softened into a smile.

She swam to the edge again, giggling, a curious seal pup, and placed the tips of her fingers on the ledge of the pool.

He forced himself to sit back into his chair once more. And he took up the book and flipped a page violently, not looking at her, trying to avoid her searching eyes and pink lips.

There was a lull as she leaned against the pool's wall. It was better for them, he decided, to not speak to each other. Each time he heard her voice, he wanted to lose himself in it.

But she thwarted his plans by speaking. Her voice was a murmur that thrilled him, even though he did not register it.

"I wonder what Kira's doing now."

Athrun tried to hide his surprise and fear.

He looked at her carefully, wondering why she had asked. Was it that she could sense Kira even from where she was? Surely, Epstein had not spoken to her about the recent developments?

"Working on his next groundbreaking theory, I suppose." He answered curtly. He would have to be very careful on what he chose to say next. "The Plants are very reliant on his projects."

She caressed the water with an open palm, and distracted, he stared at the white hand waving its fingers through the ripples. He wondered what it would be like having her hand on his cheek, soft and feathery.

"Yes, well, he gains acceptance very easily, despite what he thinks." Cagalli murmured. "People wind up loving him."

He registered what she was saying, although he felt her emotions more strongly than anything else. Above all, Athrun wondered if she would ever say the same about him. Probably not. He felt something swell darkly in him and realised it was envy.

"And you?" He asked numbly, trying to keep the misery from his voice.

"I loved him the minute I saw him." Cagalli said decisively, so innocent that she didn't know that she was hurting him. "I loved him so deeply that I was surprised by my own reaction to him. But then when my father gave me that photograph, I understood why I felt as if he was another part of me."

Her face was even more beautiful with the reflection of the water as darting lights from below her. Naturally, it was difficult to keep his concentration and defences when she was like that.

Athrun was transfixed by her voice. There were always so many emotions within the tender contralto, quavering and present in a string of intensity. Now it held tender affection and even jealousy.

"I'm sure he loved you at first sight too." Athrun admitted.

'Even now, you're still part of him.' He thought morosely.

"He and I don't get along as well as you might think," She said ruefully, her smile very sad and shy. "We rarely agree completely with each other."

Athrun was puzzled by this. "You mean when you first met? He told me that he hit you once in his anger, even though he had given you the capsule pod in Carpentaria."

A strange expression came over Cagalli's face. "Well, there was that. But even now, we don't talk very much."

Athrun was disconcerted by this, although he didn't know why. He began to make excuses for what she didn't seem willing to discuss "The war changed him somewhat. It made him more withdrawn. That's all."

"Of course." She said dully. "He's still my twin. Nothing will change that. Not even if we both change, not even if he doesn't recognise me anymore."

There was anger in her that burned through her face and its impassivity. He saw hatred in her eyes, and a weariness that surprised him.

He gazed at her. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." She said stubbornly, realising that she'd said too much.

She kept her lips firmly pursed. But he understood that in her world of flashing bulbs, tireless cameramen and truth-distorting tabloids, secrecy was the highest form of respect she could pay.

He paused and watched her as she began to dip into the water once more.

There was a grace she displayed in the water that was quite different from her purposeful march while she was a land creature.

In the water, she was weightless, wistful even. He could watch her forever, he thought. And she would always evade him, whether by her own will or a force beyond them.

And he felt a tug of envy in his heart. Kira would always have a part of Cagalli because they were essentially joined by something greater than their physical forms. Even now- hadn't Kira said that he sensed that Cagalli was safe and alive still, in the most recent statement?

It was very curious. Kira and Cagalli were separated by more than two thousand miles of ocean. And yet, she thought of him, and he could sense her. Athrun wondered if he would ever have a bond with her like the one she shared with Kira.

But nothing Athrun said would make Cagalli tell him more about Kira- there was a selfish, desperate way she clung to the secrets her twin had probably shared with her, the way she wanted to know everything about Kira and refused to share this with others. But he sensed that something of their relationship had changed.

He watched as the golden fish of her form returned back to his side of the pool.

Her eyes watched him warily as he watched her, and then she smiled bewilderedly but beguilingly, finding no threat about him, apparently.

She began to close her eyes, basking in the gentle light.

Slowly, Athrun reflected that he was idealising her, as all men tended to do with women they were utterly besotted by.

Cagalli Yula Atha had the stamp of royalty and power mixed in her veins, giving her the strength of a man's will and the ways of one. She rejected a woman's ways of depending on a male for providence and abhorred the attention men showered on her.

But in private, she was indecisive and was of no use to the politics she belonged in. That was hardly her own fault. It was her nature to love and hate so intensely that she was guided by emotion when she was without a country to account for.

The princess was coolheaded and absolutely rational. But Cagalli had only a semblance of this if one could manage to find her isolated from her tasks.

Magazines loved her face, the slightly haughty, lovely features that evoked thoughts of authority and even glamour beyond her age.

And of course, the real woman was only growing into an image that had been cast for her since she was a child.

From the way publicity had worked, Cagalli Yula Atha was something beyond the moral realm, flawless and without a shred of human failing. Given that she had shown plenty of it during her time as an Emir, it was doubtless that her parliament and publicity managers wanted to alienate her from the past.

But the creature in front of him was not the Orb Princess here on this yacht.

This creature was a woman.

He thought of the night they'd nearly shared, she leading him on in her drunken stupor, and wondered how many men had held amorous thoughts of her only to realised that she was disconnected from the reality of her own attractiveness.

Athrun stared at the swell of her ripe breasts under her swimsuit- luscious and appealing, begging to be unpeeled, touched and squeezed like fruit.

Surely she had realised her power over men? Even her soft, pink mouth held the curves of innuendo for every man who looked at her; surely she saw this in the mirror daily?

But he derived the answer almost immediately- Cagalli hardly realised this or recognised it for that matter.

'That's the problem,' He thought amusedly. 'She's allowed them to say that she's immortal for her political power's sake, and she's allowed herself to think that she isn't human anymore.'

Outside Orb, this woman was a klutz, a spitfire, a tomboy, and her body was brimming with golden promise and the flush of youth. He couldn't ignore that. He had once- but not anymore. Of all things, he couldn't ignore that.

He studied her as she drifted slightly but continued anchoring herself to the side of the pool as she dozed slightly. Her skin had lost its paleness and had taken on a creamy peach colour. He felt his loins tighten but his head was throbbing and raging against something.

With some bitterness, he realised that he understood her more as her captor on The Isle than he ever had in the past.

She began to stir as the waves lapped against her. Then suddenly, Cagalli splashed water at him, laughing and diving into the waves. He cursed under his breath, noting that War and Peace was soaked to its spine because of her.

But all the same, Athrun relented into a state of bemusement, pulling off his shirt for the sun and the world to admire the lean, fair torso that crashed and submerged into the water.

Cagalli, however, squeaked and swam to the other end of the pool unprepared that he was joining her. He treaded to her, and she floundered in a circle, trying to avoid him even as he approached her.

Then abruptly, he smiled at her. "What now?"

"Nothing." She said shyly. Her arms betrayed her by crossing over her chest, forcing her to lean against the wall. It was a very defensive position that foiled her words.

He grinned, accurately guessing the source of her awkwardness. "Haven't you seen a half-naked male before? I was under the impression that you were a lot less sheltered. That night, after Rochester's soiree, you were begging me to-"

She flushed with colour, interrupting him. "Let's not talk about that," Cagalli said hastily, "Don't bring that up again. I was drunk and all, so that's not counted."

"Surely, you aren't embarrassed to see me like this?" There was definitely a flirtatious note in his voice. He moved a little closer to her in the water.

Cagalli shot him an evil stare. "Look, Mister, don't goad me when you can't."

"And why can't I?" Athrun said in the same infuriating voice.

"Because I've seen half-naked males before," She barked at him, a bit like a colonel. "Even naked ones. And there's nothing to it at all."

She blushed at her lie.

Oh well. She had seen a biology textbook's diagrams, surely that trauma had counted for something. Besides, she had read plenty on that kind of thing, thanks to Aaron's Congress of chick-lit. Surely, that counted for something?

He raised an eyebrow, and said slowly, "Really now?"

Cagalli created ripples with her hands, deciding to lie through the lie and imitating his smirk for lack of a better option. "Er- yes."

"Liar," He said lazily, leaning against the pool's wall. "You were so embarrassed when I took off my shirt that you almost ran out of the pool. Being sober sucks, doesn't it? You were far less embarrassed when you were drunk and clinging to me. You couldn't wait to get me out of my shirt the other night."

His voice was a tuning fork in the air, so fine and so imperceptible. She actually had to lean closer to make out the words, but when she understood, she reacted vehemently against him.

"Oh stop harping on that!" She exclaimed, mortified at his accuracy. "That was just a mistake I'm glad we didn't commit!"

"Yes." He said simply, "I want you sober."

Before she could say anything, he cornered and kissed her, wrapping his bare arms about hers. He didn't simply kiss her; he tilted her head back for his mouth to gain complete excess to hers.

She couldn't help thinking that as teenagers, they had been shy and hesitant, blushing, afraid to be found, kissing on a sort of mutual dare.

But this was different and more addictive, with more danger in it than anything she could think of.

She moaned back into his kiss, enjoying the sensation of the water lapping about them, and the cool smoothness of his skin on hers in the water. Her hands found his shoulders and she clung onto him, gasping silently in shock and lust when his hand fondled a breast wantonly.

His name on her lips was swallowed by their kiss, and she found herself blushing but not struggling even though she had every reason to slap him senseless. She was both shocked and pleased by his brazenness with her- as if he were challenging her to something.

When he released her for air, she mouthed numbly, "Are you fooling around with me?"

He smirked devastatingly and kissed her roughly, stealing her air again. "What do you think?"

He was surprising her, he certainly was.

Straight-laced, gentlemanly, filthy-language-shy Athrun Zala was definitely a different animal with her. Wasn't he supposed to be a nice, well-bred, German Shepard sort, strong but always well-behaved and sitting upright, paws together? When had she ever seen him smirk so openly?

She blushed, trying to ignore the fact that she had enjoyed his attentions.

"You're an awfully bad liar," He said abruptly, breaking their contact.

"I'm not a liar," She muttered, "I've had boyfriends other than you I enjoyed being with- sorry to prick your ego-,"

His eyes regarded her sceptically, as if reminding her of the way she'd responded to him.

Angrily, she pushed away, slipping out of the corner they'd been trapped in, accidentally brushing her body against his and recoiling from the giddying sensation. "And just for your information, I'm not interested in you, even if you're a bloody good kisser."

"Thanks," He said calmly. "Now why not?"

Shocked at her own slip of tongue, she stared at him. "Are you implying that you're interested in me?"

"Well, what does it look like?" Athrun said exasperatedly. He ran a hand through his hair impatiently. "Does it look like I'm coming near you because I want to discuss politics and world peace?"

She gaped at him, trying to tell herself that he was just trying to flatter her, that he was untrustworthy, and that her heart had not skipped a beat. "Why'd you be interested in me? Other than being occasionally horny and desperate or something?"

His expression was both humorous and cynical. "Perhaps I should correct your misconception- you may have been drunk and senseless that night, but I certainly wasn't."

"Excuse me," She fired back. "It's not my fault that I've got to respond somehow when you ambush me. If anything, it's your fault- you keep trying to get too cosy and I don't know what to do-,"

He shrugged. "I can't help it."

"Damn it, you must!" Cagalli said in her desperation.

She heard Athrun laugh his cool, scoffing chuckle. "Are you so embarrassed?"

"I supposed you'd be if someone bloody groped you," She muttered grudgingly. His eyes trailed to her chest and she glared at him, although she felt a thrill settle between her thighs.

"I couldn't help it." He said in that charmingly offhand, slightly aggravating way.

And she was irritated that he had made her feel irritated and that she'd become irritated, just as he had planned. Oh the little bastard…

"Don't do this." She said in a low voice. She could not bear watching him try to come close to her, like the other men she was obliged to kick away at some point of their attempted conquest. Deep inside, she knew that she could not bear to be close to him, because she did not know how to deal with him.

"You liked it." He said curtly. "You wanted me."

"I did not like it!" She cried in mortification. "And I do not- want- want,"

"You liked it," He said seriously, but his mouth twitching now. "I heard you respond to me, because you wanted me."

"Stop!" She said loudly, desperately, blushing, cupping her ears childishly like she had never read adult novels before, like she was a school girl, like she had never met a man before. Wasn't she well-versed with all this? Hadn't she read all the books there were to read about dealing with these things? Then why was she acting like a school girl?

But then, hadn't she always reacted this way as a school girl? Embarrassed at risqué jokes, afraid to be caught listening to sensational stories? Dear Haumea- to be caught like this, looking ignorant and hopeless, by him no less-

"Well, you liked it," Athrun said calmly, and making her tingle with anger and awkwardness. "There's no point being a child over this. Do you hear me, Cagalli? We're going to have to deal with this the way we never faced it in the past."

He looked at her, his emerald eyes stormy, his face serious. "Don't turn away. Open your eyes and see it for yourself. We can't help being attracted to each other."

She began to sputter.

"No, I'm not!" She said incoherently. "I don't know what you mean! Don't bring me together in the broad category of your harem. I don't know what happened between you and Meyrin, but I've got nothing to do with you and it's just you and your bloody ego-,"

What harem was she babbling about? He knew women liked to be near him, and he had no aversion to that when push came to shove. Besides, he didn't want to be alone night after night. After all, Athrun had learnt how to make use of their affections a long time ago.

But Cagalli was different. He didn't want to use her. He had never wanted to use anyone, although he had ended up doing just that. So all the more, he would avoid using her.

"No," He said easily. "Leave that girl's name out of this."

"She was a lovely person," Cagalli said accusingly, "And you were unfaithful to her."

He didn't bother reminding Cagalli that he had politely ignored Meyrin throughout the war's aftermath. He had only thought of one thing- finding his way back to Orb.

It was poetic injustice that Cagalli was using this as an example of him being like any other fickle man that she had probably met after him.

"Did you think that I loved Meyrin Hawke?" He said apathetically. "Did you think that asking her to be with me would empty of all thoughts of you?"

He was surveying her, wondering if he dared to act upon his desire, seize and touch her as he had wanted to for so long.

"Please," She begged painfully. "For our sake, Athrun, stop this fooling around. I won't be able to handle it if you keep trying to waylay me. It's pretty clear that we had a history, but for our sake, I want to forget it."

"Wasn't seven years enough for you to forget?" He said ironically.

"Nearly," She said angrily. "But you had to appear and ruin it all. You're always like that. Appearing at the worst possible moments and then sailing off like nothing's happened."

"Well then," Athrun said softly, with a kind of triumph that made her recoil, "That's proved it. You never forgot. The past didn't go anywhere."

He took her wrists gently, without any resistance, and he kissed them. She watched, trembling as he looked at her with a joy and sadness that made her ache for him.

But somehow, she knew that it wasn't right to go on like this. Somehow, she mustered the strength to yank her wrists from him. She found the will to pull her out of the pool, to put a distance between them that allowed them both a safety net.

Something was smarting in her, and without knowing why or where the words came from, she snapped, "I doubt that what I'm about to say will make any impact on your life. But when you disappeared, I couldn't sleep without waking up once every hour, for months."

She strode away.

He remained silent after she was gone, staring into space for some time.

Then he thought about the exchange. And Athrun began to laugh helplessly.

Slowly, surely, she would accept what they meant to each other once more. What he had just seen convinced him that she had felt resentment at his disappearance. And it assured him that he was making progress with her.

He realised then, that his own anger towards her betrayals had resulted in him loving her even more.

They would never learn. They could never learn.

---

The next day, Athrun took her fishing in a small dory, the same rescue boat she had noticed. But first, he unlocked it from the yacht's side. He seemed to have forgotten about the exchange they had made in the pool. Or perhaps, he was simply keeping quiet about it. Either was good enough, Cagalli decided. She wanted to avoid conversations of that nature, at all costs.

Cagalli watched as he slipped the key into his pocket.

"Don't bother." He said warningly. "There's a combination you don't know of."

"I wasn't thinking of anything like that." She lied. They got into the motor boat, and it was automatically lowered into the sea. They sped off into the distance, though the yacht was still visible.

The porpoises followed them, quite enamoured with the human friend they had become quite acquainted with. And delightedly, she stroked their slippery backs, laughing. Athrun was less receptive towards them. He stood, watching her with a slightly droll look on his face.

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," Cagalli said brightly. "They're beautiful and it's fabulous weather.

"But we won't have any fish." He said wryly. "Of course, no fishes would go near a boat with porpoises circling it."

"Yes, well," Cagalli paused. "We don't really need fish, do we?"

"No," He retorted while smiling insincerely, "We brought the boat a few metres from the yacht just to watch fishes swim away from us."

She snorted, hitting him lightly on the arm. "All that's missing is the beer."

"Only because you didn't look carefully for it," He scoffed, pointing at a box.

Blissfully, she opened it and threw him a chilled cylinder, and she took a swallow of it and sighed in contentment. Cagalli, Princess of Orb, may have been any beer-bellied, rural-dweller enjoying a free day if one judged only the sound of her sigh.

"Alcoholic," He sniffed.

"Wussy." She retorted.

"Tomboy."

"I resent that!"

"I know."

"Shut up."

"Is that the best you can do, Tomboy?"

"I said shut it-, argh!"

"What?" Athrun said sardonically, "Frustrated at your astounding eloquence?"

"No," Cagalli said excitedly. "I've got something on the pull!"

"The bait the porpoise is trying to get at?" He said merrily, taking another swig of his beverage.

"No, you twerp," She said impatiently. "Come help me with this- it must be a huge fish!"

"A greedy porpoise?"

"Porpoises are mammals," She said archly, and then her expression turned comical as she began to heave, throwing her beer to one side where it spilled on his arm.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," She muttered, wrangling and trying to reel in the said fish. Athrun noticed that she was not sounding sorry at all," But it would be easier if you did this instead. I don't have your brute strength."

"Fine," He grumbled. "But if you pull up a boot, I will not let you forget it."

He crossed over to the bench on the other side of the small dory, and he sat behind her, straddling the bench as she did.

Wordlessly, he grabbed the rod from behind her, expecting her to let go and leave him to exhibit the aforementioned brute strength. But she clung on stubbornly, and surprised he asked, "Aren't you going to let go?"

"Don't be silly," She scoffed. "If I can't do it alone, what makes you think you can without me?"

His mouth twitched. "So I'm just the supplementary part?"

"Yep," She said, leaning back and unconsciously electrifying him with her soft hair that tickled his neck. "Just like when the Strike needs more electricity, there's this carrier that plugs it up. You're like that- not very necessary, but rather when the Strike's almost out of power."

He could scarcely think of a comeback at that point. She was thrashing to conquer the fish, even though she was quite strong, and the net result was her body pressed and moving against his.

But Athrun couldn't help noticing that she smelt of honey and wild tangerine and her arched neck was shining with sweat. She was wearing a very loose singlet and shorts, and her arms and legs were exposed to the wind and his body. As she struggled wildly to wind in the end of her fishing rod, her body whipped in his arms, and no matter how he tried, he could not avoid touching her.

Her slender but strong arms were rubbing against his, her back writhing against his chest, her firm rear moving vigorously against his stiff thighs. He leaned forward unconsciously, somehow wanting to feel her closer to him. From where he sat, he could peer down, past her shoulder and collarbone, past the loose neckline. Her singlet was unfitted, and from this angle, it revealed a little of her tender breasts trembling beneath the cloth.

Athrun could have sworn that his cheeks were heating up, although he hadn't blushed for a very long time. He didn't know why he was getting affected by her- perhaps, he'd never seen her as a woman, more of an idol. Now, he understood why he even fell in love with her.

He'd fallen in love with her for her flaws and her fallibility, and how beautiful she was despite or because of it.

"Stop for a bit-" She panted. "On the count of three, we'll both pull."

He suspected that she was having a secret laugh at how affected he was by her.

She shifted, as if confirming his thoughts, and her rear rubbed closer to his thighs and the uncomfortable sensation that was threatening to become even more painful. Why the little minx-

Well, two could play at that.

"I'll do it when you ask me to," He said softly, speaking near the delicate shell of her ear. He tightened his hands on hers. His forearms were weighing down on hers, and he twined them around brazenly.

It was rather simple reasoning- to ensure that she did not seduce him, he would have to first seduce her. And this was a task he contemplated as being rather enjoyable.

He murmured her name very softly.

She froze.

And he saw that she had sensed something different in his voice's current.

She then turned her head slightly towards him, trying to get her ear away from his lips, and they realised how rough his voice had become in its huskiness.

He took advantage of her momentary paralysis to run his lips over the fine, peach skin of ear lobe, biting. She gasped, and he tightened his thighs firmly around her.

"Aren't we going to get started?" He said huskily.

He could play at her game too, better than she ever would.

Distracted, she said weakly, "What? Oh. Ah. Right. One, two,-"

And in her haste, she pulled before she'd counted to three. Instead of a synchronised effort, she buckled against him, knocking the wind out of him.

He collapsed with a curse, lying flat on his back on the boat, her weight crushing him with the impetus that had sent them both flying.

A silver crescent flopped on the boat, and cheering, she disentangled herself, grabbed a pail and capped it over the dancing sliver.

He sat up, massaging his temples. "So?"

She grinned at him, also sitting in a rather awkward position. "A whopper."

He grinned reluctantly, realising that she was too innocent to play these games with him. Oh well. He had enjoyed imagining that she wasn't well-behaved enough to abstain from teasing him.

"Let me," Athrun said eagerly, and they crouched by the pail in the cramped boat like children squatting around their games. Then they lifted it slowly, gingerly, and caught sight of the trout, its wide, staring eyes and its thick lips.

"Good god!" He exclaimed. The mood had changed quite suddenly. They were no longer on that dangerous edge- they had forgotten how potent the magnetism of their bodies were towards each other.

Athrun was not sure if he was happy that Cagalli seemed to forget it fairly quickly.

But he went along with it, because it wouldn't do to get too caught up in the game either.

"I told you it was a whopper!" Cagalli said happily. "We'll have a terrific dinner!"

He turned slightly pale.

"It's got a face!" He said in a strange voice.

His tone of revulsion made her eyes light up. She was the devil incarnate, this woman. She looked at him coyly.

"So you don't want to eat it after all that work?" Cagalli said mischievously.

"It's got a bloody face!"

"You're such a wussy!" She laughed.

"You're such a bloody carnivore!"

She began to giggle and bared her teeth in a very canine manner. "And why aren't you a vegetarian if you're so scared of a little meat?"

"Excuse me," Athrun said with great dignity. "I like my meat without a face."

"We'll have fish head curry then," Cagalli said impishly, "So you'll see the floating head and its face, and you won't eat it. I'll have your portion and eat it in front if you. And I'll tell you what you're missing out on."

"You'll regret it."

She threw back her head, laughing at his dark expression. But he tackled her, and the boat threatened to overturn.

"Hey!' Cagalli cried, "Don't! It's dangerous!"

"What's without a little risk?" He said directly, looking at her.

She blushed. "I know what you're playing at. Stop it."

She was suddenly and keenly acute of their bodies. Her senses seemed to have become an animal's, sniffing out the heady air and his aftershave. There was her shampoo's scent, the saltiness of their flesh and the texture of his skin moving across hers.

He stared at her, and wordlessly, he brushed her fringe out of her eyes.

Athrun looked at her intently, although he knew that she was experiencing the same heat that he had moments ago. He could see it in the way her lips and cheeks were pink and the strange light in her eyes, despite her confusion.

"What's wrong?" He asked lightly. "Didn't you say that you know what I'm playing at?"

Suddenly, he decided that he'd had enough of going along with what she wanted. It was time they came clean with each other. If he was going to pursue it, he would do it without hesitation. If she was going to lead him on, she was going to have to be open about it. Of course, he didn't expect her to do what she did next.

She was so unpredictable, his Cagalli.

"I do." She said directly, ridding her face of any expression except a distinctive come-hither one, "And I assure you, Athrun, I know what I'm doing too. I'm going to enjoy myself tonight."

She gazed at him with an expression that could only be described as sultry, and he felt the air compress around him.

Then she said very bluntly, ruining the sugary, tempting atmosphere, "Dinner will be fish head curry."

He blanched.

---

Kira looked rather impressive in his uniform, standing tall, his face without any clear expression that she could identify.

The last time she had seen this expression had been a long time ago- when he'd stood in front of a night sky watching the meteor rains of flaming debris falling from space.

She peered to get a closer look.

Next to him, were a dozen bodyguards. The foreground showed the steps of the Parliament House, and the background the massive structure itself.

It was strange, watching her husband on the television like this. He was stepping up to the podium, lights everywhere, the sound of cameras and people a constant buzz in the background.

Worried, Lacus leaned closer to the light of the television set, trying to see, just like so many in that massive crowd, whether Kira Yamato was speaking or not. She reminded herself to be careful- it wouldn't do to fall off the divan.

"I wish they'd keep quiet." Lacus muttered.

She peered closer to the screen, bringing an arm to the floor to palm the cool marble floor of the service apartment Kira had rented. Her head was throbbing, and she felt drained of every ounce of blood. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her head.

Then a sound from behind startled her. But she was too tired to sit up properly to look as the door swung open and her husband moved in.

He was deep in though, and as he pulled his coat off, it revealed the Orb uniform he had worn just hours ago. Underneath this, he was wearing a bullet-proof jacket- part of the mandatory security after Cagalli had vanished.

Kira saw that Lacus was huddled in a foetal position, pale and wan, merging into the divan. He made a sound of fear, and he hurried over, his eyes wide and worried. He helped her to sit up, checking her quickly while he knelt by her side.

"What happened?" He said anxiously, seeing how white she was, and how clammy her forehead was with her sweat.

"I was sick." She whispered, wishing that the sour taste had vanished from her mouth. She had rinsed it twice, but the feeling of kneeling over the toilet, vomiting and panting did not go away.

He turned as pale as she did, and stood up. "I'm calling a doctor. Then I'm calling Plant for a shuttle to get you back there."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Lacus assured him hastily. "It's the usual. Nothing wrong about it."

She pointed to the television, hoping to distract him. "I didn't expect you to be back. Isn't this a live telecast?

The announcer was shouting above the swell of the crows, "Live, outside the Orb Parliament House, there he is- one of the the Zaft Generals takes his seat at the head of the Congress-,"

The announcer was drowned out by the ongoing noise, and Kira smiled tensely.

"Wait," Lacus said slowly. "It was filmed separately."

"You know better than I do about these things." Kira reminded her gently. "There's no such thing as a live telecast these days. This event was a very volatile one- they had to make sure that it was released only a few hours after the actual thing."

She made him sit by her, and he slipped an arm about her, comforting her.

They gazed at the telecast of Kira, announcing that all would be fine.

He watched himself speak to the crowds. The camera panned back to the crowds, showing as they cheered and clapped. He closed his eyes, imagining again, that he was flanked by a flag-bearer. The telly set showed a Lion emblem, fluttering in the breeze, a flower in its mouth.

The prime minister stepped up, announcing, "Change must come to Orb! If she has been assassinated, we cannot retaliate, but we must look for the highest form of justice through diplomacy! To have another war will be a repeat of the madness we are still trying to leave behind! We-"

Lacus looked nervously at her husband, who was still watching numbly.

The camera switched abruptly, showing the people, who were cheering loudly and waving in the air, shouting "That's right! That's good!"

The inconsistency was so slight, and so quick that Lacus only noticed it a moment later. She turned back to Kira, her eyes questioning.

"Someone threw his shoes at the prime minister," He told her with a wan smile. "He was trying to dissuade people from acting on their patriotic feelings and trying to dissuade them from starting another war. He said that if the Orb Princess had been assassinated, then it was God's will and we had to move on. In other words, he believed that Orb needed to ignore the incident and pretend that nothing had happened."

"So the people got upset?" Lacus said queasily.

"Yes. The rest cheered the shoe-thrower on." Kira said wanly.

Lacus glanced back at the 'live' telecast, how they'd edited the footage to show people cheering the prime minister on. "Will they support you?"

"The ministers have pledged their support." He said wearily. "I suppose the people will as well. In order to have Orb's trust, I need to go along with their sentiments for now. There is a compromise- that we will wait for a little while longer before the next step is decided. But I have promised them that retaliation will be carried out if Scandinavia refuses to cooperate with us in the near future."

Lacus felt blood drain out of her face as she turned back to the television. Kira was being cheered on by the thousands who had gathered to welcome him as the proxy.

He would have to work for their trust. Everyone knew this. One false step would undo everything his twin had worked for, and it would endanger both him, Plant, and his family. But to gain the support of Orb, he had to accept their anger and their thirst for revenge.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with sympathy, and he laughed.

"Don't worry." He said with his voice strong and confident, for both their sakes. "It'll be over before you know it. She'll return. I know. I have promised to do what Orb wants if we don't make headway with Scandinavia soon. But I'm sure that Orb won't have to go to war. Something will turn the situation around."

"What can? How can it?" Lacus said anxiously. She had lost her appetite for a few days when it had been reported that Cagalli Yula Atha had gone missing in the midst of a scuffle in the middle of the Scandinavian Oceans.

It was difficult coming to terms with the fact that her sister-in-law and dearest friend was possibly dead. She hadn't succeeded yet.

He stroked her cheek briefly, making her lie down properly. Then he took the remote control, lowering the volume because she signalled that she still wanted to watch.

"I don't know how I can be so sure." Kira said uncomfortably. "But I believe she's safe, somewhere."

He kissed her lips lightly, bringing a hand to her conspicuous belly, watching as she relaxed. He took her hand into his, trying to warm it. "Thank you for coming here, Lacus."

"I have to be here." Lacus said firmly. "With you."

He felt a sigh escape from him. There was so much at risk- a child they'd been hoping for was finally here, and he didn't want anything to go wrong. "I'm going to arrange a shuttle back to Plant for you. You shouldn't be here, not when you're due in just a month's time."

She looked at him stubbornly. "I'd rather stay here and help you."

He smiled, trying to hide his fears from her. "I have enough help already. Everyone's going to be behind me. Aaron Biliensky, Cagalli's personal aide, swears he'll kill anybody who tries to make my time here difficult. It'll be fine."

She looked at him, wondering how he could be so strong for their sakes.

"I'd rather you take care." He told her. "If you return to Plant, to the nursing home, it's less risky."

She stared at him, and then finally relented, because she knew he was correct.

But before she buried her face in his chest, she said quietly to him, "If Cagalli isn't fine, and if she doesn't return soon, I don't know what we'll do."

"One step at a time." Kira said patiently. "It will fall in place."

"But Kira," She said sadly, "What do you believe in?"

"I believe in peace." He said without hesitation.

She looked into his face, seeing the scars beyond his flawless, young face, the age in his eyes that hinted of the horrors he had experienced. But in those numb, tired eyes, she saw anger and hatred, anger that she had always tried to deny.

Still, that primitive emotions of rage and tendency towards strife existed in him, and it existed in her too. She would be hurt by whoever hurt Cagalli, and she would want to hurt that person too. What more Kira, when Cagalli was part of him?

Her voice trembled with empathy. "Do you really?"

He found that his hand tightened, crushing the delicate bones in her hand. She did not cry out, however. She embraced his pain, as she always had.

"I don't know." Kira admitted. How like Lacus to understand what he himself failed to. "If I let Orb take its revenge on Scandinavia, in the case that they did hurt Cagalli, another war will start. I don't want that. But deep inside, I want to take my own revenge on whoever who has hurt her, if they have. I'd hunt them down and kill them for taking her away."

"You've promised to do as Orb wants." Lacus said softly. "But Orb will want to exact revenge if Cagalli has been hurt. Will you let the peace she's built be destroyed for her people's sake?"

He did not answer, because he had no answer for her.

The television continued to play footage of Cagalli, smiling and waving from the backdrop of the Orb flag, waving to crowds as they cheered her on.

---

A few hours later, Athrun came and stood by her while she reeled in strands of seaweed and little else. When they had returned to the yacht, she had subsided into a sullen silence, and he had left it at that.

Cagalli was not very tall, barely reaching his lip level when she was barefooted and warm from the dying sun's last efforts.

Moreover, she was bent over the yacht, trying to reel in random bits of junk.

He glanced at the line of white and grey shells that she'd drawn in and lain in neat squadrons. Such a scavenger, she was. The sounds of the porpoises were like squabbling children, flashing around the boat, grey and silver in the growing orange evening.

"Cagalli," He said in a low voice, "It's getting dark."

She looked at him shyly, her eyes wide and wary, and he saw that her shoulders had stiffened. "Hello."

But she had came here again, creeping out like a little shadow, keen to avoid being seen. Of course, he had run into her.

"I don't think you'll get much by fishing from here." He said.

She sighed once, slumping a little. "I guess so. These porpoises have been hanging around ever since I saw them."

"You encourage them," Athrun admitted. "I suppose they like humans."

As if to prove his point, a porpoise leapt out of the water, trying to catch a fish that had flipped its way out of the water, and the rest of the pod did too.

They made funny, squawking noises, and he laughed.

She brightened, clapping her hands at their little show.

There was something necessary about her, something magnetic in the way he looked to her and found her shining form a necessity in any landscape that he was in.

"Look," She called to him, "Athrun!"

He loved her more than anything he could hold onto as a human. And ironically, she was beyond him, whether in her own mind, the reality of their social positions, or the chaos of their pasts.

Hesitating, Athrun stepped closer.

She let go of the boat's wall she had held, whirling around to him, and her voice was musical in the still air where encircling birds dove around their boat.

"Athrun," She said excitedly, "Look, look they did that leap-,"

He took her hand in his, ignoring everything else. Surprised, she stared at him, but he did not show embarrassment, only gazed at her intently.

Cagalli blushed and lowered her head, and the pink and orange streaks around them cumulated into dark shadows near their feet. The gulls were flapping rowdily and their snowy wings disguised their nature as scavengers.

He held her hand in his and said gently, "Come with me."

"Where?" Cagalli asked wildly.

"Come below the deck." Athrun said quietly. "We deserve this."

"What do you want from me?" She said in a ragged little voice.

She looked at him with wide eyes now, frightened, like a cornered animal that was too paralysed to flee.

"Come with me." Athrun said again, looking directly at her. "It's time."

"No," She said softly, pleading, "Please. I can't. We can't- this fooling around. We're physically attracted to each other but there's nothing we can do about it, or that we ought to do about it except ignore everything."

He stared at her with the growing, familiar pain. "Why can't you accept me if you have feelings for me?"

She wrenched her hand out of his, as if he had suddenly burnt her. How could she tell him that she wasn't worthy of his love?

"It isn't right." She said staunchly. "If I go with you, we'd be building a relationship that doesn't exist on anything."

"And what if I tell you everything that you want to know?" He said sharply. "Will you trust me then?"

She paused, looking at him.

"What do you mean?" She said slowly, her face white. "Tell me everything? For me to trust you? What do you mean?"

He nodded, not daring to believe that he was sacrificing so much for a single chance for him to regain what he'd lost a long time ago. But he needed to. How else would she agree to let him love her?

"You mustn't." Cagalli said resolutely. "We must remain as a captor and captive. Nothing more."

"Why?" He argued. "Isn't it obvious that I have feelings only for you and-,"

"Don't," She interrupted wearily. "Don't say anymore, please. Let's just continue on- let me cook dinner for you tonight, and we'll have a truce. And when you bring me back to The Isle, things will be normal again with everyone around us and you as Rune Estragon, and I as a captive."

He was silent.

"The months will pass and I'll be back in Orb, safe as you promised, and this episode will be behind us." Cagalli concluded.

He looked at her pale, unflinching eyes, no longer the colour of amber flowers but like faded sepia. And knew that he could not say otherwise.

Wordlessly, he guided her to the kitchen, where she slipped on an apron they found somewhere, and she began to cook.

He asked to help, and she allocated carrots and potatoes for him to cut while she gutted a fish and soaked mushrooms to make a creamy sauce. He was surprised to see that she had become very competent, even natural in the apron that she wore.

It appeared that Cagalli had become something of a domestic goddess, despite the unbelievable nature of it all.

"You can cook," He said in surprise, when she placed fragrant, steaming plates on the small wooden table, a small corner that looked like an afterthought to the place. They had been working together for their meals for these few days, and it had been mostly him doing the cooking.

She looked bemused. "Is that an insult?"

"No," He swallowed, looking unsure, "I mean-,"

Aaron had taught her how to cook, actually. He loved to sail over to her house after work with his niece. She had been resistant to the idea of her friend teaching her how to cook, since he did enough helping her at work. But he insisted, and eventually, she had relented for the sake of having company that she enjoyed thoroughly. He was a fantastic cook, and it had made Cagalli wonder how many women had been disappointed at his sexual orientation.

During so many evenings, she laboured over meals that ended up being served only for her. But at least, it took up some of the hours when she did not have any work to do.

She said smilingly at Athrun, ignoring the twinge of loneliness, "Being alone in a big house makes you competent at these things."

He looked at her. "Alone?"

She made a sound that indicated the inability to say what she really thought. "I suppose one person doesn't require twenty servants. And when Kisaka and Mana retired, I had the whole house to myself. It's a lot more quiet now, it's less - complicated. Oh, but there's a weekly house help who pops in for a cup of tea when I'm around, sometimes. I mean, I'm not exactly alone- I've got friends visiting sometimes and- he comes to cook with me at times, and we talk for hours about everything-,"

She broke the gaze and began to eat, and he did likewise.

It was domestic bliss and emotional hell.

He had to fight back the urge to ask her about the man she had mentioned without naming.

Instead, he ate tensely.

Throughout dinner, she spoke of light-hearted things that had no bearing on either of them, and he could sense her nervousness.

When they washed up, he was silent and sullen, and Cagalli was half relieved when it was finally over.

"I'm going to uh-,"She waved her hand airily, trying to find a word or something to do. "Shower."

"Alright." He said calmly, taking the last plate from her and beginning to wipe it with his efficient, but smooth strokes.

She said uncomfortably, "Is it fine if I er- go now?"

He nodded without looking at her, still wiping at the dishes.

And so she stole off, muttering something non-committal to Athrun. Cagalli fetched her towel, stumbling a little as the floor bobbed.

The salt air was even cleaner in the night, and she breathed in deeply, feeling something deep in the pit of her stomach. Out here in the open sea, she felt charged with a vitality she had not felt for so long.

The end of the corridor had a rather pretty bathroom, decorated with plants and mosaic tiles in the patterns of lush fruits and flowers.

She gazed around as she soaked in a soapy, scented tub, wondering where he had gotten this incredible yacht. It was small and not too impressive where bulk was concerned. But every corner was put to good use, and he'd had it furnished beautifully.

Once she'd finished brushing her teeth, setting the mug down with a little clink that made her chuckle, she undressed and slipped into the warm water she'd drawn.

The patterns around her became a blur of happy, contented colours, and she found herself humming, blowing her wet fringe from her eyes and bundling up suspiciously long hair and gazing at the golden ends.

Tropical plants actually lined the sides of the bath, and she gazed at them appreciatively, enjoying the luxuriant foliage, a very quaint but lovely touch to a bathroom on a yacht.

She thought of how she would find a way to survive these three months, and go back to Orb, half dreaming, half forgetting the rest of the dream. The scent of salt and the porpoises and the azure sea would soon melt away, the orange skies and his green eyes boring into hers-

And in the haze of the colours and rose-tinted scents, she leaned back. Her fingertips and toes were like nutmeg, the only wrinkled tips of the warm, fragrantly milky flesh.

She would forget him eventually, if she could return fast enough before anything irreversible happened. If she could run from the people who could affect her life significantly, they would not be able to enter the walls she had built around herself. He was one such person. If she could get away fast enough, he would not be a threat to all that she had built for herself.

She had done it for nearly all her life- she could continue doing it for as long as she lived.

She closed her eyes.

---

Kira turned to Britannia's premier, watching the man carefully. James Marlin was staring at a row of photographs Cagalli had arranged on the mantle- pictures of the orphanage children, of her twin and Lacus, pictures of Kisaka and Mana and her father, and one of a woman cradling her babies, a woman who had Cagalli's face and smile.

Kira watched as Marlin picked up that photograph, a small, crumpled one that was lovingly framed. He watched as Marlin's eyes focused on it, then flew towards him. Their eyes met, and then Marlin dropped his gaze.

"Her mother." Kira said simply. "Our mother."

"I see." Marlin said uncomfortable. "I didn't know-,"

Aaron took a seat by the dining table, rubbing his temples and readjusting his glasses. He looked drawn and pale, with dark circles under his eyes and his clothes wrinkled from a few hours of stolen sleep during the travelling time.

Kira assumed his place- at the head of the dining table, Marlin joining them too.

His voice was steady- for Cagalli's sake, it had to be. "Gentlemen, I thank you for your trust in me."

Marlin looked at him sharply. "I'll trust whoever who can bring her back. So you do just that, General. Frankly, I doubt that you can do anything for Orb."

Aaron's eyes flew to Marlin, and his expression was very sober. "Sir, I cannot have you questioning the general's qualifications. He is probably more qualified than you or I to do what is needed. Also, I asked the General to come here to Orb because I know she would have approved of this decision."

Kira held up a hand, ceasing the tension that was beginning to build between both men. "Gentlemen, leave it at that. Premier, your help is absolutely necessary at this juncture. Her government and her people have been swayed by idel talk that she has run away from her duties."

"Cagalli would never do that." Marlin said coldly.

"Like we need you to say that." Aaron countered sniffily. "As if she'd be so selfish as to run from her duties and-,"

"Yes." Kira interrupted. "In any case, we know what Cagalli is like. She would probably choose duty over death. But it is damaging to her reputation with all this talk going about. If people lose their faith in her, Orb will crumble."

"There have always been officials trying to take over the power she inherited." Aaron interjected. "I believe that they have been speculating that she ran away from Orb, to turn the people against their rightful leader. There are plenty of them who want her power. It's been two months since Cagalli disappeared, and the parliament seems like a coalition government without her to unite them all. Even Kisaka's return to Orb hasn't been able to stop all this disunification, and there are too many vested interests within the parliament. The people are suffering from it, but the blame is being shifted to her- that it is her fault, her disappearance that is causing all these problems."

"And that is why," Kira concluded, "We need to reunite the Orb government."

"That is why," Aaron said through gritted teeth, "We need you, Marlin. You were the only man she trusted all these years, other than her twin and Kisaka. You were the only man that came even close to her. And you are the only man who will not take advantage of what we are about to do."

Marlin stared at them, his face pale, made paler by his dark hair.

"I need you to do as I have planned, to follow the scheme that I have set up to quell those rumours that she abandoned her duties and Orb. Similarly, I need you, Kira Yamato, to do as Kisaka and I have proposed. In the worst case scenario-," Aaron's eyes were covered by the hand that rubbed over them, "If she doesn't return for reasons I fear to think about, then the right person will be present to take responsibility."

There was a silence as the three men stared at each other. Behind them, the row of pictures gleamed, pictures of the people that Cagalli loved.

Kira Yamato, one of the generals of the Zaft elite forces, had asked for an extended period of leave. In a week's time, he would be the Supreme Commander Proxy of Orb.

Britannia's Premier, James Marlin, would be known as Cagalli Yula Atha's fiancée in a few days time.

---

4 months. 0 days.

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A/N: Hello, dear readers!

Thanks for waiting, especially my lovely reviewers- I had to rework some bits and add in some new scenes I suddenly thought of putting in.

I was also waiting for enough reviews so I could edit and add subsequent reviews. :) Hope you don't mind too much.