A/N: Apologies for the wait. I've been incredibly ADHD, lately, so thank you for your patience, I hope the chapter is worth the wait, and thank you all for reading. ;-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

Relena looked around the dimly lit hotel room, taking in the scene. The walls inside were painted a strangely neutral pink, to compliment the natural beige adobo of the outer walls. On two of them there hung cheap prints of Georgia O'Keefe paintings. The king sized bed was layered with thin, soft handmade blankets, likely spun by a local craftsman. On each side, under the small reading lamps that were fastened to the walls, there sat nightstands with one drawer and a small cubby underneath. Swallowing with neither approval nor reproach, her eyes wandered past the insulated drapes which only partially blocked out the light, taking in the size and shape of the cheaply made desk, and the small dresser and television that sat opposite the pillows of the bed.

The door had closed behind Heero and the bags several long seconds ago, but he did not speak or move. She knew he was watching her, studying her reaction.

"I know it's not the quality you're used to," he said solidly. "But you wanted to lay low."

Relena folded her hands in front of her, turning slightly and tilting her head at him with a forced smile. "It's fine, Heero."

"You seem irritated."

She blinked, adjusting her position to face him completely. Her eyes dropped to the floor in thought, before she gave him another nervous smile. "I'm just a little unhappy with the world, right now. It's not you, and it's not the room."

Heero's spine straightened as she stepped up to him, letting her hand wander up his broad chest, over his shoulder, and around his neck, so she could gently scrape his sensitive skin with her long nails. His response was a slow blink, giving the appearance that his eyes had rolled back into his head at her touch. "Does it upset you, Heero?" The suggestive purr of her voice made his powerful body erupt in goose bumps and his midnight eyes darken as they studied her, again. She inched closer, her lips almost mating with his as she whispered in a more intense, sultry tone. "Are you angry?"

He swallowed, thinking over the inference as he pulled her hips against his. His cheeks curved up, into an evil grin, as he twisted her body, pressing her into the wall that had been beside them. "Do you want me angry?" His voice was a growl, his hands tightening into a bruising grip as he crushed her under his weight.

She glanced down at his body, arching one brow with intrigue before her eyes flashed back up to his. Her own smile emerged with a daring darkness as she gripped his shoulder with her freehand for support, digging her nails into his skin, and she tightened her fingers over a fist full of his hair. "I do," she answered breathily.

Suddenly, he turned her away, so her cheek was flattened against the texturing under the cheap paint and her eyes wide. She could feel all hen he pressed his entire being against her, forcing the wind out of her lungs.

Relena smiled ominously.

:::

Relena awoke at daybreak, feeling like a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders after a long night of powerful, emotional release. Her throat was sore from crying out and she blushed wondering if the rest of the hotel could hear the—interesting turn of the night.

She couldn't fight the glowing smile that took over her face as she looked over her shoulder to the man that was holding more tightly to her than he had, before. The flush of her cheeks deepened when she noted the tooth and claw marks she'd left in his forearm—and shoulder—and chest. Relena had been raised conservatively and was under the distinct impression, though it was never specifically stated, that soft lovemaking was the most intimate; but something about the open release of their tension and stress in the aggressive passion of the night before made both of them cling tighter to each other that night. To put it frankly, Relena enjoyed angry sex, and apparently so did Heero. Perhaps she would even find that they needed it.

She settled her head back onto the pillow, sighing as his arms squeezed her still closer to him through his veil of sleep. Her thoughts began to roam freely, and for once, they didn't hurt as badly as they had the last few weeks. There was still the disease, the man she loved begging her to return home; there were still the unknowns of survival, insecurity as a woman, risking everything that made her a daughter of Eve for this unwelcomed assault on her body; and there was everything else about the treatment, side effects that were, in actuality, the stuff of nightmares. If only—

If only!

Relena jolted at the sudden explosion of thought, her body sitting up, erect in the bed, and startling Heero back into consciousness. Her momentary rush of excitement fell impotent at the feeling of Heero adjusting his position to better see her. Looking down into his sleepy eyes, she read groggy confusion.

"Sorry," she whispered, settling herself back into his arms, and pulling him over her, again.

Heero said nothing as she nuzzled closer, but patiently let the seconds tick by, catching his bearings in the less than familiar room.

Relena jumped, again, with excitement, her eyes big and twinkling as she looked up at him, biting her lip to keep silent.

Heero blinked slowly and swallowed. Whatever she was thinking, she looked like she might blow up if she didn't say it aloud. With a sigh, he offered her a tired, but amused smile, signaling a willingness to listen.

"I've got it," she whispered in a strained voice.

His expression showed no response as he studied her.

Relena bit her lip, behind a nervous smile. There was no way he would ever agree, but she just had to try. "Alternative medicines."

His brows knit. He didn't approve.

Relena huffed, frowning dramatically. "Come on. Just give me a chance. I can beat this thing without destroying my body. Let me try?"

He swallowed, again, still silent. His eyes were cold and defensive. Filled with worry.

"I'll still hold to my promise. If it doesn't work—if I don't show improvement—I'll return with you by my birthday; but if it might, I have to at least try." She sat up, over him, wrapping her body in a blanket, pinned with her bruised wrist, as she made her case for his support. "Heero, I'm scared to death, but I'm more afraid of losing the ability to build a family than I am of dying. Please. Please, understand?"

He looked away from her, seemingly in thought. The tension permeated her core, waiting for his validation. She knew very well that the decision was hers, and hers alone; she knew she could easily go against his will, as she had done countless times before; but as their relationship grew, the craving for his approval was becoming a daily need. This was one more moment in which she begged the backing of her mate, and she dreaded to think how she could go against him, again, now that they were a pair.

"Relena," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "I really don't think a cup of tea is going to cure cancer."

She grimaced. "There are several options," she argued quietly. "What about Laetrile, oxygen therapy or hyperthermia?"

He looked back at her, his eyes reprimanding her optimism. "And what about the side effects?"

Relena smiled, choking back a sarcastic chuckle, but Heero's frown didn't falter. "Do you really think they could even come close to the side effects of radiation?" She pouted.

Heero took a deep breath, sighing slowly. "Fine," he said in a quiet voice. "But you're still coming home in April."

Relena's face lit up like a ready candle, her eyes glowing with childlike joy.

"Use a pseudonym and don't be recognized."

"I won't! I'll be secretive as ever, I promise."

"Hn," he groaned.

She bit her lip to quiet a squeal, before leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you, Dear. Thank you. You won't regret this!"

Heero lifted himself onto his elbow as his free hand found her far leg. "We should get ready and go get some breakfast," he said quietly as his hand felt its way upward, over the curve of her hip, and his lips found her jawline. "I know the best Mexican food in town."

"Breakfast?" Her voice was already hard to find in the moment.

"Yeah," he whispered against her dewy, porcelain skin, changing direction just under her ear and searching for her throat. "Frittatas, Pozole."

His tongue and lips captured her throat at once, eliciting a moan of surprise and desperation. "Ahhh!" When she was able to focus her eyes, again, she knew he was still wandering all over her tender neck.

"Really?" She rasped out. "Because your voice is telling me one thing, but your body is shouting a message that is so, so different."

"Really?" He growled back, gripping her ribcage and gently, but firmly, pressing her flat under him.

His nose tickled her collar bone as he hovered over her, finding his way to her shoulder. Relena closed her eyes at the sensation and whimpered for the moment that it stopped. No sooner did she protest than he came back down onto her, capturing her soft shoulder skin and muscle between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to make it hurt slightly.

Relena's body responded by thrusting her pelvis against him, finding him more than willing to work with her. "Fuck breakfast," she hissed.

With a crooked grin he captured her in a bruising kiss, laced with the diluted taste of blood, freed by the pressure of the assault.