A/N: I am not a doctor. I also never took Spanish. (French for me!) Hope you guys enjoy, anyway.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

Heero ducked through the door into the blinding shade of the poorly lit office. His eyes took several seconds to adjust as he scanned the room for his charge. Something seemed to leap inside him when he saw her, though it had only been a few minutes that they were apart. On the far side of the room, flipping through an old magazine, (printed in a language that she likely couldn't read,) sat Relena. Her golden locks, which he preferred to watch flow freely, were tucked up into a high bun, hidden under a lavish, pink sunhat with a big bow on the side. In spite of the darkness of the room, her eyes were hidden away, behind a pair of large dark sunglasses. The lollipop she clung to out of the side of her mouth mimicked the pose of a woman smoking in a print created and recreated long ago. It was just the touch to finish the job. She looked like a blonde Audrey Hepburn.

Sighing, he made his way over to the empty seat beside her. Without ceremony or words, he sank down beside her, placing a manila envelope in her lap. The glasses hid the question in her eyes as she turned them on him, but she knew he wouldn't have spoken, anyway. With a small smirk, she switched the package and magazine, and then cracked the seal. Inside she found a medical file with no name. Opening it, she saw copies of charts, her charts, on everything pertaining to her condition.

"You brought my medical file with you?" She asked, barely above a whisper.

"I didn't suspect you would come home willingly," he answered, just as quietly. "I wanted to be prepared in case you saw a doctor—elsewhere." His eyes smoldered with disapproval as he eyed the waiting area they were in. Under their feet, the laminate tile was dingy and discolored from years of wear. The buildup of dirt and residue in the cracks hinted that the age had to have been at least over a decade. Possibly, the flooring hadn't been freshly laid since either of the new patrons were born.

"Well," she said, amusement dancing in the lines of her face. "I'm glad you didn't chase me down thinking you'd win the argument."

Relena knew Heero wasn't a man to be easily offended, but the look in his eyes in response to her jab gave her reason to question the true potential of her abilities.

The heavy metal door screamed to life as a small Latin boy popped his head out, looking at the clipboard in front of him with confusion. "Señorita—Johnson?"

Relena slid her glasses down the bridge of her nose, looking over them at Heero, then at the door. "Ready?" She asked.

He gave her a small nod and rose to his feet, helping her stand beside him. Relena stepped forward leading the way into the depressing hallway.

"There's not much room in the exam rooms, Señor," the boy started through a very thick native accent.

Heero's icy stare silenced him, forcing the young man to step forward and lead the way. Heero stayed alert as they made their way down the corridor, scanning the exits, rooms and other patients. He tried to ignore the peeling paint on the walls and the apparent blood stains on some of the floors as they continued, but each detail nagged at him. Finally, they were lead to a small exam room, where Heero noted scratch marks at the bottom of the door. His eyes narrowed, wondering how a beast got close enough to cause such damage on a hospital room door, but his thoughts were interrupted by the boy's voice, again.

"Señor?"

Relena had already stepped inside the room, crossing her arms and looking less than pleased as she noticed him inspecting each detail. "Heero," she chided.

The boy started to smirk at the scolding tone, but Heero's powerful glare chilled him as it fell over him, again.

Satisfied with the boy's emasculation, Heero nodded in dominance and continued into the room, checking the walls for any more damage or health hazard. He cringed as he noted the tears in the cushion of the exam table Relena was lifting herself onto. He scanned the paper cover, even to note if it had actually been changed since the last patient. Sensing Relena's irritation, he allowed himself a glance at her, to find that she was watching him with irritation equal to that which he held for the room.

"Would you sit down?" She hissed.

Looking at the more obvious problems with the room, he noted only the doctor's chair was available, so he passed it, leaning his weight against the wall adjacent to her, instead.

After several long and quiet minutes, there was a knock at the door. "Señorita?" A man called in another deep native accent, slowly opening the entrance and allowing himself in. The doctor was dressed in plain blue scrubs with an old, battered stethoscope draped over his neck. To Heero's relief, his eyes were marred with laugh lines and his hair was salted with grey. "Señorita, I am Doctor Martinez. I will be taking care—" A perplexed look flashed in his eyes when he looked at her. "Perdón, Señorita. Is something bothering your eyes?"

"Huh?" Relena asked, doubtless blinking in confusion behind her glasses, before she realized. "Oh! I'm sorry. I must have gotten used to having them on. I have to trust, you see—" She slowly pulled away the hat and dragged the glassware from her face. "—in your confidentiality." She squinted her sea blue eyes, looking back up at the surprised Mexican physician.

"Ministra Darlian?"

Relena looked at Heero, nervously, followed by the doctor. The cold look in Heero's eyes was all the warning the medical professional would need to keep his mouth shut.

The doctor looked back at Relena. "Señorita Johnson," he said, stressing her alias. "It is a pleasure to work with you on this matter. You will have our strictest confidentiality, and our highest quality of care."

"Thank you," she replied graciously.

The elder man walked to the door, cracking it and calling down the hall. "Juanita? Juanita? Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day."

There was a small argument on the other end, but the doctor's orders were soon followed.

The physician took his time reviewing Relena's records, then testing and scanning her to come up with his own findings on her status. "It would seem that the tumor has grown since last month, Señorita. It is much closer to Stage 3 than it had been when the initial tests were conducted. I will give you several large doses of Laetrile by injection over the next week or two. After we give it a little time, we will see how you are progressing."

Relena nodded quietly.

"What were the findings of the laboratory studies with this treatment?" Heero chimed in.

"Well, Señor, officially the findings are inconclusive, but they reduced the growth rate of tumors in the lab subjects, as well as the amount of secondary tumor development."

"So there's no guarantee, here?"

"Señor," the doctor said soberly. "With cancer, there's never a guarantee."

Somehow, the response, both the information and tone, assured Heero of Relena's security in the man's knowledge and experience, but still only deepened his panic over just how much her destiny was in the hands of fate.

:::

"Seven hours," Relena moaned, slumping her weight against Heero as they made their way out, into the warm night. "My breast hurts."

Heero smirked, slightly, where she couldn't see. Relena was never one for complaining, so the exhausted protest was out of character and, in his opinion, amusing.

Relena fell quiet, allowing him to lead her into the darkness as her mind unfocused from everything. Feelings of hope and dread both bobbed at the surface, but she hadn't the energy to put any of them into clear thoughts. Instead, she hummed a rhythmless tune to drown out the conflicting emotions as she clung to the only solid ground she'd ever know—Heero.

They must have walked in silence for nearly half an hour before her feet began to ache as much as her head did. "Heero," she quietly called, noting how dry her throat was from such a nerve-wracking day.

"I told you I'd find you the best food in the world."

Her feet shuffled to a stop, allowing her to look up at him.

"Come on," he smiled, assuring her with a light touch.

Relena allowed her weight to lean against him, again, as they walked a few more blocks to some small residential homes. Heero led her around the back of one house, where children of all sizes and ages were boisterously playing, oblivious to their guests for several seconds. From within, Relena could smell the stewing beef and fresh dough of corn and flour being cooked to perfection on a griddle inside. She felt her stomach rumble with desire and looked to Heero for an explanation. This was someone's home.

On the far side of the yard a small girl, just below her teen years, glanced up and caught sight of the couple. For a moment she froze, seemingly thinking if they had been expecting visitors. After the initial bout of logic, she decided it didn't' matter and began shouting in her thick, native tongue. "Heero! Heero! Él está aquí! Mamá, él está aquí! Heero regresó!"

Heero smiled down at Relena, who was looking even more perplexed by the second.

A middle aged, heavyset woman emerged from the kitchen, glowing when she laid eyes on Heero. "Old friend," she said in strained English. "It is nice of you to visit with us, again." She placed a kiss on each of his cheeks, before turning her attention to Relena. "Ministra, it is an honor," she said, taking Relena in a warm and familiar embrace. "You must be our beloved boy's Musa."

"Musa?"

"Si, Señorita. His muse."

A/N:

"Él está aquí! Mamá, él está aquí! Heerose regresó!" – "He's here! Mama, he's here! Heero's returned!"

Thank you, Thank you, THANK YOU to Fer82 and Thaire for the critique! Experience welcomed. ;-)