A/N: I know it has been FOREVER. (Insert Dootadoot giving me crap for it…lol.) Seriously, though, I apologize. On top of feeling more directly involved and overwhelmed with my other story, (which is an involving read, if I say so, myself), I've been really wrapped up at home. Our Komen 5k went swimmingly, my eldest turned six, there's Army drama, family drama, and I've finally started working, again. You're reading to the newest Mary Kay consultant in the Savannah area! (I just brought in my first paycheck in two years. I'm super friggen STOKED.)

So, I hope you like the chapter. These are places I WANT to go, not places I've been. I've been having writer's block pretty bad, so if I didn't get the Irish accent quite right, I'll offer another apology. I am mostly Irish, so I'm not making fun, so much as trying to make it read the way it would sound. Yes, I realize "Taoiseach" is "Prime Minister" and not "Foreign Minister", but I'm going to call on my writer's license and claim the Irish boys, who are drinking, have the right to be confused.

Please enjoy my ramblings and, of course, my favorite toast from the homeland. ;-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

"We could try Cryotherapy," Relena said softly as she looked into the clear winter sky.

Ireland had been kind to the roaming couple. The temperatures were cold, but there had been few weather difficulties, and barely even any wind in their short visit. Now they stood in the late afternoon, on the cobblestone road, outside an old pub, where Relena had just tried several of the local favorites, from red ale to a few drinks a little more potent in nature. Heero's eyes were not on her as she began to speak, but she knew that he was listening quite intently.

"You freeze the tissue," she continued.

He continued watching the strangers that trickled through the streets.

"Essentially the 'freezing' is supposed to kill off the bad cells and reduce the size of the tumor," she pressed, leaning forward to see her feet as she kicked at a pebble with her toe.

"Hn," he finally answered, still not turning to face her.

Relena smiled, looking away from him as she turned her attention back to the emptiness above. It had only been a few weeks since she and Heero had returned from space, but she was already beginning to miss it. Space travel was not safe for everyone, and she nonchalantly wondered how she'd manage her job, never mind her slight wanderlust, when her pregnancies came along. (Another pang of panic arose in her stomach, but she pushed it down. She was going to get through this, and she was going to be a mother. She just had to.)

Two gentlemen approached, deep in conversation over the existence of some possibly mythological creature. Relena knew Heero wouldn't show his attentiveness to the newest passersby, but she could feel him tense when they stopped within two feet of her to finish off their cigarettes.

"She is real, Shamus. I've 'eard 'er," said one in a voice of deep conviction.

"Nah, sh'ain't. S'nothin' but myth an' a legen'," replied the one called Shamus. "'Sides, Ronald. If you've 'eard 'er, then how're you 'ere?"

"'Cause she takes som'un in yur family when sh' cries. The vary night af'er I 'eard her, me Aun' Bessie died."

"Ai, bu' people die, Ronal'. There ain't nuthin' superstitious abou' tha'."

Intrigued by the conversation, Relena had turned, wide eyed, and was openly looking back and forth between them as they spoke. Out of unbridled curiosity, she slowly raised a finger to call their attention to her so she could clarify. "Who is this 'she' we're talking about?"

"The Banshee," Shamus answered, shaking his head in embarrassment. "Ever'un knows she's jus' an ol' Irish legen', but my frien' 'ere 'as it in 'is 'ead that she's a real spir't."

"But she is!" Ronald exclaimed, making Relena blush and laugh.

"Go in an' get the three of us a pint, Ronald," he said, before turning to the blonde woman. "Will yur gentleman friend, 'ere, be 'avin' some, also?"

Relena gave Heero a very serious scan before turning her bright smile back to her new friends. "No, thank you. He's not much of a drinker."

Ronald nodded and continued on his way, into the pub. Shamus pulled out another two cigarettes, putting one in his mouth and handing the other to her. Relena eyed it for several seconds before pinning it between her lips. Her first thought of the smell and taste was how it reminded her of tea. The unlit and dried leaves gave off a soft, earthy aroma that was almost sweet to the senses. The thought, however, was short lived. Shamus lifted a guarded matched to the end of the stick, encouraging her to fill her nose and mouth with a cloud of grey smoke as she encouraged the light.

The newfound sizzling sound of the paper burning near her face, the flavor of the scorched leaves and the scent and feel of the heavy smoke were not enough to distract her from the overwhelming sense of Heero's eyes on her. She wanted to believe she was just being paranoid, but she knew him better than that.

Releasing the smoke from her mouth, having never fully inhaled it, Relena was glad to see Ronald making his way out of the bar.

"Ai," Ronald called as he came near. "Any'un eve' tell you tha' you look like th' Taoiseach?"

"Theeshock?" Relena repeated back as she heard it.

"Ai! Dudn't she Shamus?" He stopped between then, carefully presenting them with frothy mugs.

"She hears that all the time," her lover suddenly said in a monotonous, but dominant voice.

Relena glanced back, wide eyed, as she pulled her glass close. "What's a 'theeshock'?"

"Taoiseach is a word for 'Prime Minister'," he answered, turning his eyes on her. "We hear that all the time, don't we?"

Relena smiled the most genuine smile, allowing herself a light laugh. "Yeah," she agreed, turning her attention back to her new companions, as she buried her face partially in one hand.

"Aight," Shamus said, pulling Relena's attention back to him. He lifted his glass between them, making eye contact with Relena before he spoke. "'Ere's to you an' 'ere's to me. Best friends may we a'ways be. But if e'er we disagree, FUCK you. 'Ere's to me!"

Relena and Ronald started sniggering as they met the toast, lowering their cups to their lips. She'd swear she could feel Heero rolling his eyes. He was ever the party pooper, but she really didn't mind.

"So this Banshee," she pressed, taking her mind off of Heero. "What's special about her?"

"Th' Banshee's an evil omen if there was any," Ronald explained. "Sh' cries in th' night, warnin' of the comin' death of the hearer or a luv'd one."

"An' she's jus' a myth!" Shamus chimed in.

Heero turned to face them as Relena began to giggle, again. He eyed Relena's beer impatiently, occasionally looking up to the dimming sky above.

"It does kind of sound like folklore," Relena admitted.

"Ai!" Shamus exclaimed, dropping a heavy hand of approval on her shoulder.

Heero's eyes followed the sudden movement with irritable suspicion. Relena knew she was running out of time, so she willingly made eye contact, assuring him silently that she'd respect his wishes when he led her away. Heero nodded, reaching first for the cigarette and throwing it to the ground. "What's the matter," she said in purring sarcasm. "Afraid it'll give me cancer?"

The sudden flash of ice in his eyes almost startled her.

"I'm sorry, Heero," she suddenly whispered, reaching to touch him for comfort. "I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," he said, cutting her off. His eyes seemed to soften when he realized he was coming across as angry, again. "I want to show you something," he whispered, glancing back down at the beverage.

Relena smiled and handed it to the men she'd just met. "It's been wonderful, dear sirs, but I'm afraid my beloved has need of me elsewhere." She bowed politely, accepting their goodbyes and followed Heero down the street.

Nearly a quarter mile of broken roads and battered corners, Relena found herself pulled gently into an alleyway, where Heero began ascending a rickety looking fire escape.

"Is this safe?" She inquired.

He looked at her incredulously for a moment, glancing back up the ladder, and back to her, again. "You don't trust me?"

"It's not you," she said with a warm smile, careful not to wound her soldier's ego.

Heero sighed in frustration. "I'm going first, so you'll know if there's danger," he answered as he began climbing, again.

Relena shook her head, carefully following him, one step at a time, and gripping the sides of the ladders and landings to counteract the symptoms of her intoxication. "This isn't safe," she mumbled under her breath as she nervously kept her eyes downcast.

When Heero reached the top, he turned and offered her his hand, bringing her steadily near him. The sky was less dark atop the building as the sun, which had sunk from sight within the town some time before, was once again clearly visible. In fact, without Heero's coaxing, Relena was suddenly fully aware of why she was there. On a cool winter evening, at the edge of a small Irish town, Relena got to watch the sun set with the man she loved. The rays were clearly visible, pressing between the rocky crevices of the mountainside. The snow glowed a beautiful gold as the yellow star showered it in warm light. Watching the steady, careful movement of the stretching and dancing shadows took Relena's breath away.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

Heero's eyes turned back to her, memorizing the color of her porcelain skin in the gentle, bronze lighting. "Yeah," he said quietly.

:::

Relena released a sigh as the London Eye pod closed behind her.

Heero stood solidly a pace away, studying her with genuine concern. "Did your appointment not go well?" He asked as the oversized Ferris Wheel lifted them away from the ground.

Relena frowned, walking to the rounded glass wall. "It's not that," she sighed. "Well—it is. But it wasn't that bad, I guess."

Heero walked up next to her and looked out over the view. London was truly breathtaking from the sky. Perhaps this moment would be more joyful if not marred by the stress of the battle she was facing. Perhaps, even, the trip would be fully enjoyed. He turned to face her, silently urging her to explain her disappointment.

"The Laetrile has done nothing for the existing tumor," she answered. Her eyes dropped away, losing focus.

"Will the doctors here treat you with the Cryotherapy?"

"Yes," she mumbled. "But they really want me to begin the 'traditional' treatments."

"And you explained your reservations?"

She silently nodded.

"Relena," he said, softly, touching her arm.

Relena lifted her head and looked at him, offering a smile to assure him of her resolve. "I'll begin Cryo treatment tomorrow," she said softly. Her eyes ordered him to allow the subject to fade. She'd found her bargaining chip with fate, and she wasn't ready, just yet, to allow her determination to fade.

Heero straightened, looking in her eyes and questioning if he should come forward with the statistics, or if he should allow her this moment of hope.

Seeing his internal turbulence, Relena reached over and placed her hand on his arm. "I'm sure we'll see better results, this time," she said.