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Chapter Nine

Just Communication


Effective communication is 20% what you know and 80% how you feel about what you know. –Jim Rohn


The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said. –Peter Drucker


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Marlé crashes Lucrezia's rather questionable notion of a roadtrip, Relena begins to prove just how powerful she really is, and Jake tries to take back control of his life - with very mixed results. Meanwhile, other parties are becoming involved.

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On an amusing note, it took me about seventeen pages (though those scenes are not in order of the first seventeen pages anymore) to realize that this chapter was largely focused on communication and the issues therein, if I was really looking for a theme… and then I remembered that hey, that's the name of the intro for the anime, and I sorta figured, why not? I looked up the lyrics and am actually floored by how extremely romantic they are. For a show that was rather lacking in romance – unless we want to count rabid fangirlism on the parts of Relena, Noin, and Une – it's… pretty odd, to be honest.

Here we go!


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July 8th 198 – Wednesday – Eastern Europe – In Transit

"Ro, ro, fight the power!"

Hilde blinked at the noise, then grinned. Wasn't that from some anime?

"Check that, would you?" Noin muttered, not taking her eyes off the road.

She shrugged and reached over to dig through her General's coat pockets, procuring the phone and let it scan her fingerprint. She snorted as she read the text, though – it was obviously a wrong number. "Someone signing as Odin wants to borrow your car."

To her surprise, Noin hummed out an amused noise. "Tell him it depends on when."

Hilde frowned, not expecting that, but punched in the message anyhow. "How does he know you have a car?" Noin didn't exactly get out much.

The older woman gave her a look. "He's been in it."

"Stupid question," Xu groused sleepily.

Hilde turned to glower at him even as she flushed – it was a stupid question, damn it – but he hadn't even opened his eyes. If he hadn't just spoken, she would have dismissed his sprawled form as unconscious.

"Ro, ro, fight the power!"

"'When do you need it?'" Hilde read out.

"Mm… that gets tricky." Noin thought about it for a moment, then grinned. "Tell him, 'If you can't be more exact, we can carpool.'"

Hilde choked as Xu sat up fully in the back seat to frown at their general. She cast them both an amused look. "What?"

"You want someone to just tag along when we have a trunk full of guns and explosives," the Chinese man noted dryly, "while we do hit-and-run recon across Europe?"

The woman smiled beatifically. "Why not?"

Xu groaned and flopped back onto his side. "Fine. Whatever. I'm done."

Well I'm not. "Who's Odin?" Hilde demanded, brain spinning.

Noin's eyes lit up. "You just said his name, didn't you?"

"How do you know him?" she clarified.

If anything, Noin just seemed to find this even funnier. "How do you know him?"

"I don't."

The other woman laughed delightedly. "If you insist. Let's just say he's an old friend then, mm?" She raised one brow. "Are you going to send my message, or do I need to pull over?"

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Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

"Ooh!" Olivia covered her open mouth with one hand, then shifted to smile coyly and hold out said hand in a languid notion. "Forgive me… My name is Olivia Dontelaine."

Relena fought to keep her expression distractedly unaware of the woman's actions as the darker of her colonels smiled genially, apparently deciding that 'oblivious' was the safest course of action.

Because we aren't friends at all, she couldn't help but reflect sarcastically. It was hard to say if she had picked up the habit from him at some point, or if he was reading her body language for cues. Either way got the job done, really.

"Colonel David Mitchell," he introduced as he took her hand and kissed it formally. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Duchess."

"Mine as well," the redhead assured him, before spotting Relena. "Excuse me a moment. My Lady?"

Relena raised both brows and motioned for Olivia to follow her before heading up the stairs for her loft. It was unlike the woman to come by unannounced like this – she generally styled more formal, or at least dedicated, affairs. Without really thinking about it, the princess gestured back to her boys that she was safe but to keep an eye out. She felt sure enough of the duchess to be alone with her, but that was no excuse to allow an opening for attack. If not from Olivia, then a discernable pattern could become evident to someone else to take advantage of, and in that case, it would have been Relena herself who invited them in.

Olivia, for her part, sighed dramatically as they climbed the stairs. "You always get the cute ones, Relena. My brother never hires me any handsome guards. Always, they're either over forty or so plain a saint wouldn't notice them."

Your brother obviously knows your trouble areas. Aloud, she noted, "Plain is good, though; never underestimate the value of being able to blend seamlessly into a crowd."

The other woman sighed at her again. "And as with all other things, there's an easy way to accomplish a goal, and another that requires more talent but is foolproof all the same. If Jake didn't want me to notice or even recognize him, I very much doubt I would."

"Colonel Miller is one of a kind," Relena agreed, obliquely trying to impress the lack of familiarity between her bodyguard and would-be friend.

"Yes…" She sighed yet again as they reached the loft's antechamber. "I should stop pushing him, shouldn't I?"

Relena turned to get a true measure of the girl, and realized that it was subtle, but… Her lips were pursed in an unusual way for her, her stance was less confident than usual, and she was rubbing the inside of her thumb hard against her palm despite the loose way her hand hung by her waist.

For the first time since Relena had reconnected with her, Olivia was showing some sign of being nervous; maybe even anxious.

Allowing a smile to touch one corner of her mouth, she admitted, "If you wish to establish a working relationship with him, then yes, you need to stop flirting." Moving to palm open her office door, she looked back and added, "He's a very good friend to have, but if you don't respect his boundaries, the best you can hope for is tolerance."

"They aren't very well-defined boundaries," Olivia complained as she followed her into the loft.

"They happen to be meticulously defined, actually," Relena argued, allowing the door to fall shut and lock automatically. "He just obfuscates them relentlessly in order to achieve a frame of social banality." He's far more chameleon than you might imagine, Dontelaine.

The redhead huffed and dropped onto a couch, tipping her head back to stare up at the sky. "I love this room," she announced.

"It's literally the crowning triumph of the estate," Relena noted in agreement. Then, after a moment, "You didn't really come here to ask advice about my bodyguard, did you?"

"I ran into him last week at The Commune and he seemed about ready to skin me," Olivia defended plaintively. "Do I truly irritate him that much?"

Relena was tempted to just say yes, but that wouldn't be entirely fair. Jake found the woman annoying, yes, but by his own admission, most of his upset the other night had been due to how he knew Dorothy would react to the other noblewoman. On the other hand, it was difficult to find the appropriate middle ground on the subject as well, since he did find her rather obnoxious… almost entirely because of her need to verbally half hang on him. Her colonel didn't like clingy behavior unless it came from someone under the age of ten, but… Come to think of it, she had never seen him do anything more flirtatious than watch a shapely woman very attentively in passing.

No wonder it makes him uncomfortable. She had no doubts that he knew how to play the part – he was Jake – but that sort of tit for tat didn't seem to be in his innate emotional set. Teasing, yes. Intimately too comfortable, on occasion… But there was a gap missing in between the two that fit what most people did.

"You don't bother him when you're not crowding him," she stated after a few moments.

"And how would you define 'crowding'?" Olivia asked shrewdly, eyes narrowed.

"That," Relena noted, unable to help a chuckle, "is something you're going to have to sort out on your own."

The other woman frowned at her. "You won't share, or you don't know?"

"Meticulously defined, Olivia." She raised both her brows as she sat down on the couch across from her. "Pray tell, what kind of generic boundaries require that kind of attention?"

Olivia growled irritably and dropped her head back on the low couch to glower at the sky. Relena shook her head, debating the absurdity of having had this little conversation at all…

…and Dorothy came in from the bathroom, hair pulled over one shoulder, halfway through a fishbone braid.

Relena had the sinking feeling that she now knew exactly how cornered Jake had felt the other night.

The heiress' eyes narrowed as she debated her options. Olivia tilted her head to one side without picking it up off the back of the couch and made the first move. "Hello," she greeted neutrally.

Dorothy raised one eyebrow before continuing to walk towards Relena's couch. "Hello," she returned. Sitting down, she asked, "Come to suck up?"

Relena briefly allowed her eyes to fall shut as she debated if she had any options herself.

"Maybe a little," their guest agreed. "It's hard not to, when you know who has your answers in hand." She lifted her head, though she didn't bother to sit up properly. "Her advice was worth the effort, though."

Dorothy didn't look too impressed. "You probably needed it."

"There hardly would have been any point in seeking it, otherwise," Olivia returned amicably.

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Mm… difficult," Olivia mused. "At the moment… an alluring bodyguard for company."

Oh, God.

"You can't just steal people for yourself," Dorothy snarled.

Sometimes, Dorothy's possessiveness knew no bounds. Relena's mind was scrambling for a way to dismantle that statement without throwing a tantrum over being viewed as a possession; unfortunately, she wasn't coming up with anything that should be heard from the mouth of anyone older than twelve.

"I'm not stealing anything," Olivia denied, finally sitting up and leaning forward, eyes burning with intent. "I'm invading."

And there was no way at all to work with that. No interruptions then, she decided resignedly. They can just hash it out and get it over with.

"Indubitably," Dorothy sneered, not even hesitating at the other woman's wording. "Your efforts have been entirely transparent."

"Intentionally so," Olivia returned. "Opacity would have only earned distrust." She settled back into her seat, arms spread across the back of the couch, and crossed her legs. "I am putting down roots, and I am not so foolish to build foundations in anything I am not. I have no wish to see my efforts crumble down the line for the sake of some small comfort and conceit in the present."

"Manipulative," Dorothy accused, hands tightening on her braid.

"I've made absolutely no claims otherwise." She waved a hand. "Transparency, yes? I wear my heart and intentions on the sleeve, and have allowed my Queen full measure of me, as a true vassal ought." She arched one brow. "I have been judged as a mild nuisance, but hardly wanting, and have presented myself in such a way that I can be molded now to her preference for future applications." She smirked. "I can curb any irritating habits quickly, once I'm made aware."

Relena felt a weight settle in her stomach as the extent of Olivia's understanding sunk into her very bones. She had been aware of the implications before now, of course, but she hadn't realized the other woman viewed their relationship so… clinically. Jake isn't the only one with meticulously maintained social dynamics.

"Transparent does not translate to genuine," Dorothy contended coldly. "Playing subservient is not your true nature."

"Accurate, which is where the difference between 'playing subservient' and offering deference out of respect lies," Olivia argued. "I know exactly where I stand; I'm playing at nothing, and I will not stoop beneath the restraints of my pride. I am a Lady Dontelaine." She tossed her head slightly, hair swaying. "The solution to the problem you're presenting is careful selection of the one you choose to offer your services to; a balance of respect that will not be tossed aside by either power is essential." Her smile was smug, and somewhat mocking. "Your presence here only argues that this is not only a good choice, but the choice. There have been no signs of Relena possibly strong-arming you into her service, as her brother might have, and your brilliance in these matters can hardly be denied. Your defense of her only lends more credit to just how important allegiance to her really is. So no, Lady Catalonia… I am not going anywhere. You shall simply have to get used to me." Her lips twitched. "And recall that I will hardly be the last to recognize her as sovereign. Your time of having her all to yourself was only borrowed."

'You have good ideas… I want to see them happen. I want to make sure they happen…' 'You need to calm down and figure out how to handle this because I am not going to be the last person to stand behind you and your goals.' Jake's words to her when she first doubted his motives for her, his loyalty. Relena couldn't help but smile. She had been so very flustered, and no small part of it had been her outright attraction to him, for all that the argument had stemmed from self-esteem issues. He had promised her that she would gain more followers purely on merit, and Olivia was far from the first since Jake, but the way she had phrased it… rung true.

Dorothy, meanwhile, seemed to be caught between the fact that Olivia was claiming her as a guiding light, praising her, while at the same time twisting her arguments against her and belittling her. A flush had risen in her cheeks and her eyes narrowed again as she studied the other noblewoman. Any hopes Relena might have had that she would either continue the argument or concede Olivia's points, however, were dashed a moment later.

"Fawning, low-bred, spaceborn skank."

If there was ever a moment that Relena might have considered disowning the heiress, this was probably it. She honestly wanted to crawl under the couch and die of pure mortification.

"Infantile, scheming strumpet with no taste," Olivia returned easily, eyes lighting up with amusement.

Dorothy's lips twisted in a smirk as she relaxed back into the couch. "Dim-witted third daughter with compensation issues; Mommy never had time for the baby."

"Satan's little princess, so used to everything coming on a silver platter that she would starve in a stocked kitchen," Olivia cooed.

Dorothy snorted. "I can run a household perfectly well, thank-you."

"Oh, but you might break a nail, sweetheart. At least you know how to con someone else into the dirty work."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you couldn't afford such a nice house and requisite staff."

"It's okay, sweetie, I know you need all the help you can get, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Self-sufficiency just isn't for everyone."

Relena couldn't help but stare as they continued on. It wasn't the fact that they were tossing insults… it was the fact that the tension from before had completely vanished. With every nasty comment, both women seemed to relax a little… and become more amused.

"Are you certain your father was your father? There isn't much of a family resemblance, you know."

"Your daddy just made sure to marry a woman who could pass as his sister so he wouldn't risk that worry. …Or was she his sister? That might explain a few things."

"Mm, your spouse needs to have good taste, and it simply can't be helped if you're already the best yourself."

"Variety is the spice of life, darling. And as for taste, there's simply no accounting for it. I can't believe you paid for that blouse."

"Fashion is never sensible, it simply is. It takes talent to make something look good."

"And sensible with flair takes actual creativity. I make it a point to set the fashion standard instead of following it. Personal seamstresses exist for a reason."

"Too safe," Dorothy argued. "If you refuse to take the chances, you'll never reap any high-risk rewards, and no one will notice you."

Olivia rolled her eyes, smirking. "I'm perfectly fine with the fact that my family has never been known for heretical behavior, thank-you."

Dorothy blinked, then outright cackled delightedly. "Oh, I'd completely forgotten about that!"

Olivia snickered. "My great aunt Amelia was convinced she had dreamt that newscast for days."

What? On second thought, however, she probably didn't want to know.

"They struck it from the records, I thought."

"Within hours," Olivia agreed. "Human memory is lasting, though, and everyone loves their gossip."

"Scandals are always entertaining," Dorothy agreed happily.

"You heard about what happened with Shawna Timoran, didn't you?"

"Subtlety was never her suit," Dorothy bemoaned, obviously knowing exactly what the other woman was talking about. "She should never have even tried."

"Not everyone can recognize their weaknesses," Olivia pointed out.

"If she has any sense, this ought to send the message home. If it doesn't, she's a lost cause; it won't ever sink in."

"It might not, if she's anything like her brothers."

"Ugh, don't remind me, they're hopeless…"

Relena's attention was pulled away from her friends as her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out to check the text.

'Dani says lunch is ready. Are you going to come down, or should I bring up a tray?'

"Lunch is going on the table," Relena announced, standing – deciding to ignore the apparent reconciliation between the women for now. "Shall we?

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L1-X16426

"Well, I'd love to help, honestly," the man insisted earnestly, spreading his hands and shrugging. "But they weren't exactly talkative. As it is, if you'd waited another couple days, you wouldn't have needed to make the trip."

Milliardo resisted the urge to grind his teeth, or at least sigh. No one was trying to deny that the troops had been there, at least – though whether that was because they were honest or just not stupid was unclear. However, the overall consensus was that the army had surrounded the communications centers, thrashed the equipment, held a peaceful occupation for approximately twelve hours, and left. They had probably restocked and refueled, but no one was owning up to business dealings with the rogues.

Again, they weren't stupid enough to offer up any potentially damning evidence.

Frankly, they were being so genial, so easygoing and cooperative, that he was inclined to believe they were all fully in on the scheme. Unfortunately, however, he couldn't haul a person in on charges of subterfuge for being nice.

Naturally, no one seemed to have any idea what direction the interlopers had been headed. And, as this was the colonies and not Earth, there were no possible bystanders to act as witness to unusual traffic, no physical evidence or trail. Only nothingness in the nothingness. It was a game of shadows up here… and he had the sinking feeling that he had just entered a blindfolded game of tag.

He hated space…

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Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

"Hey, Lena?"

The princess met his eyes readily, though her mouth was twisted in something that was somewhere between a grimace and a smile. He flicked his eyes to his right, being perfectly subtle, but there was no way she couldn't know what he was referencing. She looked that way herself, and downright bewilderment settled into her expression without erasing any of the emotions that had come previous. "I honestly haven't the slightest idea," she told him tiredly.

He nodded, watching the two out of the corner of his eye while otherwise focusing on his food, considering the possibilities. He could have sworn he had heard about a hell of a catfight that the colonel had managed to avert the other night… yet somehow, the two noblewomen were now sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room, chatting like they'd been the best of friends since early childhood. "Any idea when?" he asked quietly, just… frankly, a bit lost.

"A few minutes ago," was the rueful response.

He frowned. There were a few implications in that. "I thought you didn't know?"

She turned and scowled at him. "I was present, but I'm still entirely lost as to the how," she groused. "One moment, they were verbally tearing each other to shreds; the next, they were bosom buddies. The mechanics are entirely above my pay grade."

He snorted up his mashed potatoes at that and coughed hard, trying not to choke. He'd never thought he'd hear Relena say that, that was for sure. Once he'd gotten his airway safely clear of debris, he noted, "If that's your conclusion, Ma'am, I think I'll just leave it lie."

"Probably the safest bet," Relena agreed tiredly. "Our best bet of comprehension is probably Mailin."

Lin frowned dubiously. "Even if she's some super linguist, I don't think she speaks that language," he argued. Shaking his head, he added, "She's off this morning, though. She's jogging the neighborhood with her dog."

Relena raised her brows. "Are the grounds that boring?"

"I think she wants to show off the dog," Lin decided. "We're all used to the giant mop, and she wants fresh audiences to his apparent beauty." He shook his head. "Personally, I don't get it."

"It's a dog," Relena agreed in a lackluster tone.

"It looks like a giant mop," Lin reiterated. "I've seen some awesome-looking dogs, but I seriously want to find the attachment for the broom handle on his belly, some days."

The blonde woman snickered at the image. "Don't tell Mai."

"Why do you think I waited until she was out of the house?"

They finished their meal and decided to leave the Romefeller women to their own devices. Mitchell was only supposed to be there another two days, and seeing as they needed to leave for a dinner in Austria in a few hours, then tomorrow morning they were heading out and not due back for a few days, this was… well, it was the last they'd be seeing of the utterly ridiculous shirts, at least. He figured the colonel intended to follow them around like old times until his leave was over, but they had an image to maintain. Yesterday, the damn thing had been bright pink.

It had also been a very big mistake to comment on this fact. At all.

In any case, there was no reason to leave the man unharassed so long as he was sacrificing his vacation time on them, so, since the princess had stayed up late and gotten up early to get her work done and have a free handful of hours not spent in the car, they went colonel hunting. After all, where there was one, the other probably wasn't far. They were going down the hall, aiming for a shortcut to the courtyard, when they heard Jake's irritated voice.

"Drop it already."

"You're just-"

"I don't care," the other man hissed. "Sentimental bullshit doesn't count for shit."

"You're better than this," Mitchell's voice snarled back.

Lin exchanged a look with Lena, the silent question of whether to interrupt or eavesdrop dismissed almost as soon as it had a chance to rise between them. They were standing right outside the cinema area, which at this time of day was generally abandoned… evidently making it a good place for private conversation. In any case, this was almost certainly a continuation of the argument she had had him find the vid record of the other day, and for a wonder, it was in English.

There wasn't a chance in hell they were going to ruin their chances to figure it out.

"You're insistent on being willfully stupid," Jake growled back. "I'm not so naïve to think this is going to end without something shattering. The best case scenario is the only one who burns being me, so forgive me if I'm not ready, asshole."

"You said-"

"I know what I said."

Mitchell let out an extremely aggravated noise. "You're being a damn diva. There's nothing to lose, and everything to gain!"

"Keep your voice down," Jake snapped. "The only one who thinks there isn't anything at stake is you; my repercussions are not yours." He sighed. "Dave… I can't let it happen again."

Mitchell sighed too, though it seemed more exasperated than anything. "It's not going to."

"Do me a favor and gamble with your own soul. Mine's got a bit of mileage."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, "You're so focused on your own fears you're blinding yourself to the truth. What am I going to have to do to make you get it?"

"…What are you going to do, hm?"

A chill swept through Lin's spine at that tone of voice, and he knew that the innocent question was anything but.

Mitchell seemed to realize it too. "Jake-"

"Get out of my house." His voice was cold, and eerily calm, without any inflection at all.

"I didn't mean-"

"Now. You won't play your hand here; I'm not dealing with this shit right now."

Without warning, the door in front of them opened fully, and Colonel Miller strode into the hallway. Or rather, he started to, then froze as he saw the two of them… and shit, but this couldn't look like anything but exactly what it was. He was looking at them very… levelly. Lin didn't dare hazard a glance to his left to see how the princess was handling it; it wasn't like the man could do anything to her anyway. The only cognizant thought coming to mind was a repeated shrill of just how dead he was.

"Wait," Mitchell called, evidently trying to finish the conversation. "Volley-"

Something in Jake's expression… for lack of a better word, snapped, and with perfectly fluid execution he whirled and flung himself at his friend with a snarl.

Oh, fuck!

Relena dashed into the cinema room after him, leaving Lin with no choice but to follow, praying she had a plan. The other colonel had responded in kind and the two men were having it out in front of the tiered levels with a kind of ferocity Lin hadn't seen since Miller attacked his father last September. The princess led him up two levels before commanding his attention.

"You're only going to have a few seconds, so listen and do this exactly," she began.

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One moment he was riding his rage out and the next, Relena was in front of him, which was jarring at best. A door slammed, and as he moved forward her eyes narrowed. "Stand down," she commanded in a guttural tone. "He's been removed and I've no intention of letting you chase him."

The full weight of it all bore down on him again as his muscles relaxed and instead started to shudder, the pure frenzy of his wrath fading into tremors. Now… Shit. Was that it, then? Was everything-

Relena sighed and moved into his personal space, pressing the side of her neck to his and relaxing her weight against him, reaching her right hand up to cradle the side of his head. "Breathe," she soothed, resting her left hand on his shoulder before running it down his arm to interlace her fingers with his. "Whatever this was about, it isn't worth this."

He took a deep, shuddering breath that was as much physical response to the loss of adrenaline as emotional, and she sighed before tugging him to one side. "Sit with me," she urged, leading the way, and he didn't resist. Every breath was calming, a faint glimmer of lilies and cool water… He buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder once they'd settled on the couch and wrapped his free arm around her waist in a tight hug, not willing to let go of the thread of sanity she was offering.

His heart thundered dangerously as he damned himself yet again. If only it had been someone else… If only he hadn't… But he wouldn't have ever met her, then, never found the girl, found this

It was only fate, or karma maybe, that made it so that when he finally found what he spent his entire life yearning for, he couldn't just follow through and be happy. He was just that good at utterly fucking himself over.

"Easy," Relena muttered as he let out a soft keening noise in spite of himself, carding her fingers through her hair. "Breathe… relax… let it go." She let go of his hand to return his one-armed hug and draw circles on his back with her nails. "It's not worth the heartache," she murmured.

If only it were that easy.

"Forget for now," she insisted, almost as if she could read his mind, tipping her head backwards so she could rest the side of it against his, ear to ear. "Drop it and leave it lie… you can come back to it later. Focus on here…" she soothed. "Focus on me and just drift awhile…"

Taking another deep breath of blossoms and rainfall, he tried to just not think.

"Just breathe…"

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Munich, Germany – Dorothy's Townhouse

"Colonel? Scheisse… Come in, come in…" Tristan stepped back and gestured the same, considering for a moment before deciding to lead him towards the living room by the kitchen. There was blood smeared across his face, and with the way he was moving, that was only the bare edge of it. "What happened? Do you need me to call Ffion?"

"I haven't catalogued anything yet, so that may not be necessary," the man groused in a way that only the extremely exhausted or the deeply in pain can manage. "At the same time, the gesture would be greatly appreciated. I'm not entirely sure driving was a good idea, but I don't remember blacking out, so I'm at least mostly sure I'm not concussed."

"That sounds dubious," Tristan noted as he strode ahead of him into the room to grab an afghan or two that he was sure Catalonia wouldn't remember let alone miss if they became bloody, and tossed them on the woman's least favored piece of furniture, just incase. Lindsay and BJ looked up from their places at the stove and breakfast bar, curious, then incredulous as Colonel Mitchell stumbled in after him.

"Call Ffion," BJ muttered quickly as he stood and made his way over to the recliner Tristan was tucking blankets into, watching their houseguest. "What happened?"

Mitchell snorted miserably as he half-collapsed into the chair. "I messed up."

"Allerdings," BJ returned sarcastically. "Do we get more detail than that?"

"Maybe a little," Mitchell seemed to almost laugh out. "I haven't finished deciding yet."

Tristan frowned. Laughter wasn't exactly… "I think he might be hysterical," he muttered to his leader.

Mitchell, evidently, heard him, and half choked out another laugh. "Maybe a little," he agreed.

BJ sighed, resisting the urge to throw up his hands. "What hurts, then?"

"Quite possibly… everything."

It was Tristan's turn to sigh. "Off with the coat, then, let's see the damage. How's your breathing?"

He didn't have much formal training, but he could handle basic shit, and make assessments, at least for when their paramedic friend arrived. The more bruises and contusions he found, though… after he was fairly sure that there was a break in the man's upper arm he couldn't help but shake his head. He knew how well Mitchell could fight; he'd shown him and Alexis a few things when time allowed for it. "I don't think I want to see the other guys," he decided.

This time, the colonel did laugh outright hysterically. "Don't jump to conclusions, now…"

His stomach sank. "You lost?"

"Utterly. Then I got rescued by a damsel in distress."

BJ gave him an incredulous look. "A damsel."

"Just in time too," Mitchell mused carelessly. "I think my ribs would have given out in another ten seconds." He dropped his head back. "God help me, I'm not even sure I bruised him…"

The implications there were upsetting. "You're saying this was from one guy?" Tristan asked incredulously. At the lack of denial – hell, even another giggle as confirmation – he shook his head. "What the fuck, man?"

"I lost the initiative," he complained. "Take too many hits before you have a chance to send one back, and you're too just too damn slow to catch up." He let out an explosive sigh. "Jake's always made me look slow."

Tristan just stared at him, the pieces fitting together with a nasty sort of click. Mitchell, considering his position and reputation, and what they'd outright seen, was pretty up there in skill, and the only 'Jake' he might be referencing that easily would be the princess' bodyguard, Colonel Jake Miller… supposedly his best friend. The whole thing just sounded… ugly.

On the bright side, it made a lot more sense why everyone seemed to be so at ease on those occasions when Relena went about with only Miller to guard her safety? It explains the hysteria too… Shit.

"What happened?" he demanded, feeling even more lost for knowing more.

Mitchell just closed his eyes. "Say the devil's name, and he appears," he announced cryptically. "It's my own damn fault… I just wasn't expecting it, and I really should have."

"You're supposed to expect your best friend to beat the shit out of you?" Tristan half-shouted.

His chuckle was considerably weaker and darker than the previous. "Everyone has a breaking point." Then, another hysterical sort of giggle. "Shit, all in maybe thirty seconds… man's nothing if not efficient…"

There was nothing worth saying to that.

oOo


oOo

July 9th 198 – Thursday – South Africa

Odin was awesome; this was a very firmly established fact in her brain. He took the definition of 'dedicated' to whole new levels, he was so smart he came across as a dummy half the time, and he had a spooky way of figuring stuff out on a near expert level even if he'd only been introduced to it ten minutes ago. Marlé never had any doubts that she had chosen herself a very good role model, for all that it had more or less been a chance meeting and absolute dependence that led to it.

What she hadn't ever calculated into this, however, was just how creative he could get when the mood struck him. Really, it shouldn't be news, what with exactly how he'd gotten the ship they'd used to drop Lucrezia's gundam care package, or honestly, the ways he came up with to teach her stuff. But…

Odin might be spooky when he decided to be thorough about something… but he was officially crazy when he decided to be thorough and random.

'mom?' she texted, trying to sort her feelings out about this one. She couldn't exactly deny the genius of it, and it was fantastically cool on some level… but suuuuper creepy too, and…

'What is it, baby?'

She started trying to decide how to type this out, tried, erased it, and tried again. She looked it over one more time before sending it, trying to make up her mind.

'i just crawled under someone's porch and stole something buried almost in the foundation that i'm pretty sure the people living there had no idea existed'

She looked at it miserably for a moment before deleting it; that sounded way more criminal than it was. It can't be stealing when Odin was the one who'd put it there over three years ago, right? They hadn't even known it was there. He'd just… borrowed their layout. He'd trespassed, but he hadn't broken or upset anything…

Her mom was texting again. 'Is everything okay?'

She stared at her screen, then considered the very dirty ammo tin by her feet that had a little hard drive duct taped to one side of the inside of it, to keep it from rattling around. It wasn't like anything was wrong… she was pretty sure they hadn't done anything mean to innocent people. It wasn't like the thing had been dangerous or anything… it just… had a really unique storage space.

Inspiration struck, and she grinned before carefully typing it out.

'odin has a really interesting take on geocaching'

oOo


oOo

Graz, Austria – Night

Russel Blomberg rested one shoulder against the wall, considering the crowd this evening as he sipped at his drink. Most of his day had already been burned away with work, and while he did enjoy the opportunities these little social affairs brought about, said possibilities could only blossom if you prepared the ground ahead of time, so to speak. Politics was a constantly shifting game, and at times, it could be difficult to simply keep both feet under yourself, let alone excel. Mood was an important dynamic before any sort of deal could take place, and the mood often depended heavily on exactly who was present… which, of course, made observation before beginning a must.

Vandusen was someone to avoid, but his wife and daughter were both present and had him wrapped around their little fingers to keep them entertained, so it shouldn't be difficult. Asbury too, and Pinion, Lindstrom, Boutelle, Macklin… Russel actually grimaced. Not going to be making much progress tonight, then, he decided. Too much room for interference… it wouldn't be worthwhile.

Oh well. He sipped from his glass. I could use a break from work, after all. He focused on the women. There was a grouping over by the refreshments table, and he took care to see who he could identify, and who he would need to ask about… not knowing was not an intelligent option. Evelyn and Faith, Daphne, Kirstin, Laverne, Vivian, Tyerra, Olivia, Alina, Kelsey, Dorothy…

All either too young or already married… or in the last case, a horrific idea altogether, no matter how much power her husband might gain. No one sane tried to catch a tiger by the toe.

"Daydreaming?"

Russel blinked at Dustin before offering him a wry smile. "It's been a long day."

"I can drink to that," the other man agreed, lifting his own glass in a lazy cheer before bringing it back to his mouth. "I'm intent on minding my own business tonight, but I'm debating if asking Fredalynne to dance with me counts."

"I would imagine, considering," Russel noted dryly. The younger of the Loy Dukes always doted on Garrett's daughter; it was frankly a surprise to him that a betrothal had not yet been announced. "Why the reserve?"

Dustin's chuckle was on the disbelieving side. "You didn't hear about what the princess got put through this morning, did you?"

Russel frowned. Honestly, he hadn't considered the Peacecraft girl's presence overmuch. Despite her reputation, she had made out for a rather weak start; presumably because immediately after her appointment as Minister of Foreign Affairs last week, her brother had left for the colonies. Putting her in the seat of Minister was a transparent power play, but it lost its effectiveness when the puppet master left the stage as well. She had gotten a few new policies put through in the week since her appointment without any resistance and they had gone into effect this morning, but that had as much to do with their lack of practicality as well as the avid adoration the girl could attract with her standing.

Anyone could write and get a law put through if they didn't change any relevant facts of commerce with it and they belonged to a family that so many were looking to get favors for fawning over. "I'm familiar with the work, but I can't imagine what you're referring to," he noted, debating exactly how random Dustin was feeling… and how inebriated, considering his flush.

"The rerouting of border trade."

He considered, trying to find the problem. In the end, the new commerce law made the import/export business slightly more organized, as certain supplies had to pass through specified routes when crossing borders between the countries. The argument for the change had been compelling enough, he supposed; if they specialized the routes, trade was forced through more areas which hopefully would revive the economy somewhat in terms of jobs and traffic. It would lower the prices on a handful of staple imports as they would not have to travel as far before dispersal, and would require more attentive care, as the strict international shipping routes instead became practically a traveling caravan. The impetus had been lowering the tariffs somewhat as well…

I suppose if it works exactly as planned, it will increase morale in the general populace. He remembered thinking, however, that once the numbers were crunched, the differences of cost to benefit ratio between the two systems was negligible… and that was if she even managed to successfully enforce the ruling. It was a fancy way of making yourself look productive, while really it rang of a woman's obsessive need to categorize and label everything while presenting herself as complicated.

"She's satisfying her obsessive compulsive tendencies," he pointed out dryly. "Little more."

Dustin snorted into his glass. "What she did is put Donovan and Bryant's balls in a vice and smile sweetly as she offered to turn the crank for them. She instated a social services program through RLTT in over a month ago that regulates commerce on the local level – like a grocer's branch of her Militia. It's due to start running in ten days from now, which is why no one had heard about it, but Marquise's signature is already on it. Any goods that come through those checkpoints have to be evaluated before sales can run in that county, and she has the manpower to enforce it. If only certain goods are allowed through certain cities a flag goes up if a single thing is out of place, and it makes it so any idiot can run an inspection; in other words she can pull off that level of constant inspection without doing much to slow down the process on distribution."

Nearly constant inspections… That would put an effective end to the relatively rampant embezzling and black market dealings that were the majority of Romefeller's bread and butter… and, as Dustin had already pointed out, effectively ruin the Pommier and Reinhoel boys' forced labor trade. "Do they have time to clean up?" he asked quietly. Don and Bryant were good customers of his.

"If they're exceedingly lucky, willing to take on a good amount of debt, and can survive the backlash of their middle management when they try to shut down, there's a chance," Dustin snorted. "Bryant was bragging yesterday about having nearly eight hundred Kazakhstan refugees broken in and ready to be shipped to the fields and mines. The last I knew, he had them tucked away near Balti, but the new laws are in action in Ukraine as of tomorrow, and Hungary in five days. Not moving on Moldova immediately is a mercy act, but I don't think they can make it anyway. They were always careful enough before that they moved slowly, and if they are too obvious, the normal authorities might pick up on it." He shook his head. "No, they're damned, and I'm going to keep my nose clean from here. That was a little too well thought out and executed for my taste. I would advise you to cut your ties to those two; I get the sense that Darlian's going hunting, and I'd hate to see who she takes as a trophy next."

Russel frowned as Dustin took his leave and headed over to the Melendy girl he was courting, considering. Of course he was cutting ties to the two who had gotten themselves caught; he had known, from the beginning that he would if ever there was even a hint of a noose around either man's head. No, his concern was exactly how long the plans leading to this motion had been in place… because that would give him an idea for how far-reaching the freshly minted Minister's intelligence network was.

To have arranged it all so neatly… It's almost as if Peacecraft intended to disgrace himself in order to pass power to his unassuming sister. But no, he knew Peacecraft too well for that. The man had too much pride for that kind of tactic, and he had nearly declared a new war with his actions in Sudan.

He remembered hearing a rumor that Peacecraft had failed to realize that the princess was no longer living in the room next to him for over a month. He had dismissed it as ridiculous – yet another show being put on between the two in order to manipulate Romefeller – any yet…

"Ah, good evening, Chancellor Blomberg. I trust you are enjoying yourself?"

The subject of his thoughts had appeared before him, smiling genially and looking every inch the high-class noblewoman she was in a sky blue evening gown that effectively showed off her body's assets, her hair twisted in an intricate pattern at the back of her head.

He smiled back. "I am happy to enjoy the evening's respite, Princess Peacecraft. I thank you for the opportunity."

"Darlian-Peacecraft, please," she corrected firmly. "And I would hardly say that all this is due to me." Her smile was far more winsome this time, instead of simply nice. "I recall receiving an invitation, after all. And I could hardly pass up the opportunity of a frivolous evening, with how busy my life has been of late."

"Ah, but the mere presence of your company makes all the difference, my dear," he offered magnanimously. "I look forward to seeing more of you, now that you're a Minister."

"It promises to be a very taxing occupation, I'm afraid," the princess returned cheerfully. "I believe it will be all the more rewarding for it, however." She hid a soft chuckle behind a gloved hand. "You should expect to find me at just as many of these events in proportion, I expect, to ease off the tension; it's so nice to see everyone getting along despite the words exchanged over politics in daylight." She shook her head. "I've been all too reclusive, these past few years; it's past time I re-entered the social scene, I think."

"I certainly couldn't disagree," Russel returned amicably, even while he really hoped she was overstating. Her attendance certainly did change the mood at this sort of thing, and that could, in turn, make his life difficult. She was too young, too naïve, to be worth much in his business – idealism had a habit of obstructing capitalism. "Might I say that you look fantastic, tonight?" Even if she was an obstacle, he could handle a blockade; enemies were to be avoided at all costs, however, and naïve or not, this young woman could cause him quite a lot of trouble if she had the inclination.

She laughed delightedly at that, sweeping her skirt with one hand and offering him a slight dip of a curtsy. "The thought is appreciated, Chancellor, I assure you." She winked. "After all, I did not spend so much time getting ready to be ignored." Bringing her glass to her mouth again, she paused and watched him for a moment over the rim before smirking gently. "I imagine flattery opens many doors that might remain stuck fast, in your trade."

Russel felt his throat dry as she sipped at her champagne, analyzing exactly what that comment might infer. It was a truth for politics, and for a great deal of his known work, yes… She was stating an easy fact; it was well known that he wasn't above brownnosing to keep himself in good graces. Honey caught more flies than vinegar, and he lived firmly by that motto. But at the same time, her previously innocent gaze was almost mocking now, as if they shared a secret that she found terribly amusing… And what Dustin had just finished telling him about Don and Bryant suddenly haunted his thoughts.

Please, let her only be fishing.

"I've yet to meet a man who would prefer a rude partner to a genial one," he returned carefully – hopefully without too much hesitation. "A courteous manner will take you far in this world, Princess."

"Oh, to be sure, Chancellor. So many fail to realize how harassing a person ought to be a last resort; no one likes a bully, after all. Far better to simply suggest cooperation is in a partner's best interest, no?" Her smile turned coy. "I am very impressed by your network of contacts, sir. I should love the opportunity to ask your advice about them in the future."

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, cold dread dripping down his spine even as surprise tried to race up it. He knew himself well enough to realize it was a miracle he had not begun to tremble at the onslaught of unexpected emotions just yet. "I look forward to conducting business with you in the future, then," he murmured, choosing his words with enough care that he should not give away any more information than she might already have, even while extending a pleasantly vague offer. If she was actually innocent of his newfound suspicions, she would accept wholeheartedly; but if-

"Oh, we will just have to see," she returned almost indifferently. "There is so little time in the day, after all, and of course, more than one route to any goal. Curiosity is one thing, and necessity another, but it cannot be denied that you know Romefeller better than most."

He nodded slightly to show he understood, even as his hands began to shake. She had no need for his services, idealistic woman as she was, but she evidently knew just how a sizable portion of the Romefeller gentry liked to filter dirty money through him. Damn and damn. He wouldn't have even dreamed this might be a concern, just ten minutes ago. "Of course." Quickly, he wet his throat with a sip from his glass, made a few calculations, and decided on the safest course. "Naturally, my lady, I am at your service, should you wish it."

"Naturally," she agreed breezily. "I appreciate the concession, Chancellor." Raising her glass in a cheer, she began to move away. "I will be in touch."

"I look forward to it," he answered automatically, even as he turned to find some semblance of privacy. He needed to gather his nerves… and decide on exactly what piece the princess was on the board. His dismissal of her as a pawn was unforgivably erroneous.

oOo


oOo

July 12th 198 – Sunday – Strasbourg, Germany

"If you don't go now, you might miss your train."

Marlé made a face and shrugged. "There's another one in three hours if I do." She shifted her pack, then gave in and just asked. "I thought we were treasure hunting; what's up now?" He'd asked her if she was cool with going back to Amsterdam again sorta out of the blue, and then when he announced he wasn't coming along, it was pretty obvious he was up to something. Taking a deep breath and focusing on not clenching her jaw, she asked, "Did Lucrezia call?"

Odin shook his head, though he didn't look up from the pack he was reorganizing. "I need to hit a few places that are too isolated to get to without a car. Lucrezia has one."

…She was getting ditched again, then. Outright ditched, not shuffled around a bit because he was about to do something crazy dangerous like he sometimes did.

This is just stupid.

"How long do you figure you'll be?" she asked sullenly, shifting the weight of her backpack and thinking.

"Not sure. Somewhere between three days and eight, probably." He looked up at her and gave her a resigned sort of smile. "I'll stay in touch this time."

She gave him an irritated look anyway – she knew she couldn't hide it, and he already expected it anyhow. She seriously wanted to demand if it was honestly the end of the world if she met any of his friends, but… Well, first of all, keeping her out of it wasn't actually his idea – he was doing what her mom had told him to. And second… that would be giving it away.

Hm.

She sighed and shook her head. "Whatever." Picking up her duffel, she gave him a lazy sort of wave before turning away. "I'll talk to you later."

If she was going to do this, she had to work out a few details before he skipped town.

oOo


oOo

Rome, Italy

"Flight 527 for MO-28946 is now ready for boarding. If you are a passenger for flight 527, please report to gate nine for processing."

Quatre focused on Cory, and couldn't help but smile when he saw just how he was still absolutely focused on his phone, tapping away at the keys. Before they'd parted ways with Heero – Odin, he needed to remember that it was Odin now – Marlé had insisted on a phone like she and Odin kept; which had seemed intelligent enough, so long as precautions were kept. Fast, easy communication was too vital to pass up, and the operating system Marlé had designed was cleverly just what they needed.

While Quatre was appreciative, however, Cory was absolutely… taken.

The boy was nursing an altogether adorable crush. I now understand exactly why my sisters saw fit to tease me endlessly on the subject of Alicia Mae when I was ten. He wasn't going to put the boy through it, but the temptation was there all the same. At any rate, Cory was far subtler than he himself had been – though how much of that was age and personality was debatable.

"Time to go," he muttered after a moment, downing the last of his tea and standing. They'd been on the planet long enough. Really, he never would have imagined he could leave space for so long as he had. The last time he'd been off world was Libra, and, well…

Libra was a lifetime ago, and not a pleasant memory in any case.

Going back… it ought to have felt good, like going home, but… it didn't. Dread was pooling in his gut…

For all that he wanted to reconnect with the world and get back on track… he wasn't any more ready to talk to his sisters than he was the Maguanacs.

~~oOo~~

"They're working with Lucrezia now, backing her like they used to support you. They've been anxious for news about you, though."

Quatre felt his stomach twist. "Have you mentioned this reunion to them yet?"

Heero shook his head. "No. Should I?"

Acceptance, a calm lake of… from Heero, it was probably a whole lake of 'not my business so I'm not going to get bothered about it'. God, if that didn't take the edge off the situation… He'd missed Heero. "No... not just yet. Maybe after a little while, but I'll probably just handle it myself." The idea honestly made him want to throw up, but he couldn't run for the rest of his life; he refused.

He wanted a cigarette.

Instead he took a deep breath and focused on that calm center his friend was acting as. He was glad that the insular group of fighters had taken to someone else in his absence; Rashid anchored them, but only just. Rashid was the center they worked around, easily the father figure that reminded them – sometimes forcibly – that they were family, but he lacked drive. Without an outside influence, the Maguanacs ceased to be a fighting force, and with the world as it was, they needed to stay in the game.

The specifics of what he had said, though… "Lucrezia?" She'd always insisted on Noin.

Amusement, elation, something…belonging? Inclusiveness? Not quite loyalty, at least… Quatre blinked at the sudden burst as Heero grinned, and the emotions faded down to ripples. "It is her name." There was something impish about his expression.

Quatre smiled as well, bemused but happy his friend felt that good about something. Really, though, if she had been working with Auda and Ahmad and the others… they practically had an anathema against last names. They frankly might have refused to call her anything but 'Lady Lucrezia' until she caved. Unrepentant cheerfulness was, oddly enough, quite a force to be reckoned with.

~~oOo~~

No… He didn't want to see them just yet. He wasn't ready for the judgment he would face over his time in Cambyses, not when it would still be just as raw in their minds as his own. In a few more weeks, maybe a couple months, they would have had enough time to form opinions and move on, and he would… face whatever standpoint they had settled on at that point.

Hopefully by then, he'd have worked out his own opinion as well. That would go a long way towards… towards everything, really. For now, though… He probably needed a little more time, and to seek out the sisters who either wouldn't ask or wouldn't judge. It had been rash to simply approach the geographical closest; it was truthfully just as well that she hadn't been home.

Hollee… Camille. Tricia, once he was settled enough in himself; she wouldn't abide weakness in him, for all that she wouldn't hold him to any of the things he had done in the past. Above all, Tamelia… If Tamelia could accept him, then he doubted anything else could truly threaten his self-worth. And seeing as Tamelia had accepted the horrors he had committed with Wing Zero, then surely she could come to terms with what had happened in the desert.

According to the news, there were more like his squadron than he had hoped to believe, though none so organized. They were being painted as victims…

…They had been, hadn't they? They had been a horrible number of other things too, but… if they could be victims…

That would make life so much simpler. He wasn't going to think about it until public opinion became a little clearer, though – he didn't trust his own instincts on the matter without at least some backing, and it didn't help that his emotions were entirely contradictory on the subject.

So for now, he was going to seek out his old sources, see what was left of Instructor H's network, and make his way out to see Tamelia. Seeing as even a direct trip took almost two weeks from his home colony, his timetable should work out more or less the way he wanted anyhow.

oOo


oOo

July 13th 198 –Monday – Near Erfurt, Germany

The situation, admittedly… could have gone considerably better. Lucrezia grit her teeth as she calculated exactly how much ammo she had on her… and wished, again, that she hadn't left the big guns in the trunk. The terrain was shit for a firefight, there just wasn't enough good cover… and there was no way either she or Xu could get to Hilde without some decent cover fire.

Her phone vibrated and she considered for a moment before making a damn wish and fishing it out of her shirt. She wasn't in immediate danger, and if anyone could have had better timing…

She grinned and double-tapped the text to call the number.

"Lu?"

"See that building to the east? Do me a favor and get up there fast with some heavy artillery."

"There's still a key in the undercarriage?"

"Yep." She loved how he didn't waste time; she could hear him dropping to the ground to reach under her little sedan for the thing.

"Anything in particular you'd recommend?"

"Mm, whatever you're comfortable with. You'll want a full auto and something with a scope."

There was a long moment of silence before she heard a thunk that was probably the trunk shutting. "Got it. Locations?"

"Hold on." She hit mute and flicked her radio earpiece off manual. "Give me an update, people."

oOo


oOo

The next time we visit any damn friends of Schbeiker's, Xu decided, I'm bringing grenades.

"You're covered, go," muttered Noin's voice in his ear.

He flung himself into the open as he heard a spray of automatic fire start, tuning out the noise as he focused on the decrepit building Hilde was being held in and ran as fast as he could.

They hadn't gotten the full story on what the fuck went wrong yet, but he honestly didn't care about the details just now. Everything he needed to know was pretty obvious: they were hostile, and his partner really needed him about five minutes ago. She wasn't dead – her conversation was volatile as hell, and she was including all their danger words and phrases in her speech patterns like there was no tomorrow.

Schbeiker might be a psychotic bitch, but she was still his partner.

oOo


oOo

Hilde let out a shuddering breath as she slammed a heel into the man's hand and sent his gun skittering off to one side. Noin was coming out of the shadows now – gun still at the ready, eyes analyzing everything. "She's secure," she muttered after a moment. Hilde ignored the oddity of hearing the woman's voice both actively and deep in one ear. "Clear the rest of the building, Chang." She tapped the earpiece in her left ear twice as her eyes flicked clinically over Hilde. "Are you injured?"

"Only enough to hurt," she grumbled, biting back the urge to screech over the whole damn situation. This was her contact, damn it…

"You followed all the right cues," her general told her as she swept the room. "You didn't do anything wrong, so don't beat yourself up about it. You can't see everything coming." She shook her head as she finished and holstered her gun. "They knew what they were doing and played it just right, is all." She tapped at the earpiece in her right ear. "We're good. Handle any stragglers we flush out." Another tap, and then a double tap at the other ear. "Chang, do not exit the building without my say so unless you want a bullet to the head."

Hilde frowned as Xu acknowledged the order. "Ma'am?" The second earpiece was the one that linked up with her cell phone.

"Later, Schbeiker," the older woman dismissed. "Help me clear this area."

"I've got nothing," Xu's voice muttered after a minute. "Clear."

"We're downstairs," came Noin's dual-tone voice. "Come help sort through their crap, huh?"

"Roger."

They all froze as the sound of a shot from a high-powered rifle practically reverberated through the building.

"Ma'am?" Xu demanded.

"Nothing to worry about, Chang. Come on down; just don't go outside."

Between the three of them, they confirmed that everyone was either dead or had vacated the premises pretty quickly, and Hilde turned to see what had been left behind in terms of information while Xutao dug around for weaponry. Noin tapped her right earpiece again. "You all clear out there?" She paused, listening – and ignoring both her and Xu's eyes watching her – before nodding a little to herself. "Sounds good to me. See you in a minute."

"Who's our backup?" Hilde demanded as the other woman disconnected the line and pulled all the tech off her ears. She knew for a fact that no one else had been anywhere nearby – she'd had a solid ten minutes to consider and trash any ideas about getting help in the shitstorm she'd led them into.

Xu answered before Noin, though. "Odin, probably."

"You're a good kid, Xu," Noin informed him happily as she knelt next to one of the bodies on the floor and began rifling through his pockets. "Right in one; he texted when he found the car and heard gunfire." She sucked in a breath. "Hilde, please tell me you don't recognize this one…"

"I didn't recognize almost any of them," Hilde snapped. "Just one guy, and he was their damn gofer, not the people I usually talk to." By the time she'd realized these weren't the informants she'd been talking to for almost a year now, it'd been way too late to get back out of the building unless she wanted to do it full of holes. "Why?"

"This was a sting," the general explained, tossing a badge at her… a goddamn Regime military ID. Shit.

She'd never been so glad she played by Noin's rules on what you did and didn't let your sources know, instead of what she wanted to do. If they'd survived the raid the Regime must have run on them some point before this, they wouldn't be able to tell anyone much.

A door opened a ways away. "Noin?"

"Over here!"

"I want this gun," he called back

The general laughed. "If you're talking about the rifle, then it's a definite no. That's one of my favorite pieces."

"Makes sense." He came into the room shaking his head and considering the weapon. "I haven't had anything this nice since I was…" he frowned. "Seven or eight."

Noin snorted as she stood and took it from him, even as Hilde's brain got stuck on an eight-year-old having access to a military grade sniper rifle. "Mine. And I'm not going to bother going into how messed up that sounded."

"My father had an unorthodox priority set," the man explained easily, cheerfully, even, as he turned to consider her and Xu… and she froze.

The blonde hair was a little disconcerting, but his face really hadn't changed much. "Heero?"

He raised both brows, lips twitching into a smirk. "Hilde?"

She flushed, but didn't bother trying to defend herself against the sarcastic response. Heero fuckin' Yuy was standing next to her!

"Odin, huh?" Xu asked quietly.

Again, his lips twitched. "Yeah. Shoe something, wasn't it?"

"Xu works," he noted, his slight lilt on the enunciation hint enough.

Heero just smirked at him. "You're still slow." Shifting the strap on his shoulder, he held up one of their better submachine guns. "Do you want me to hold onto this until we get back to the car?"

"If you would," Noin muttered distractedly as she went back to examining their attackers. "Look at their computers too, huh?"

Noin, of course, never had a problem with putting someone right to work. Heero didn't even bat an eye at it though; he just settled the gun's shoulder strap and moved for the desk Hilde was pawing through.

If she'd had any idea that Heero of all people was going to come join them on their fun little field trip – the general's words, not hers – then she might have-

Odin. Aw shit, seriously? No wonder the general had been laughing at her earlier.

"Where the hell did you get Odin from?" she demanded.

"The usual place, I'd imagine," he answered in an absent monotone.

"What?"

Xutao snorted. "Yeah, Ma'am – where'd you get Lucrezia?"

The woman hummed out an amused noise. "I'd like to know what genius thought of Xutao, personally."

…Her ears were burning so hot they had to be bloody crimson by now.

"It was my dad's name. Nice and boring," Xu pointed out happily. "I think my mom was too doped up to come up with something original. I wasn't even the oldest son."

"Is that what that means?" Odin asked curiously.

"Probably not, but it's one theory," Noin noted with a chuckle.

Hilde just grumbled under her breath and focused on what paperwork she could find. It was past time to bow out; she was only digging a deeper hole from here anyway.

oOo


oOo

Tivoli, Italy

It was nice to be out of the house just as a regular person instead of a princess. She generally didn't mind her position, really… but it was a breath of fresh air all the same.

Jake had asked her if she could take the time to do this with him… and she had told him to fit it into her schedule with priority. Especially after what had happened with David. Whatever this was about, it was important to him, and might help level him back out. Dorothy had admitted that something serious had happened emotionally with him the night they went out, but beyond the fact that she was considering the implications, had left it at that. Relena hadn't pried – if Dorothy didn't want to tell you something, she wouldn't, and the princess trusted her friend's judgment.

And despite the incident the other day, she trusted Jake's too. She still wished she knew the full story, but she wasn't so naïve as to not recognize a lost temper for what it was. She'd blown her top with Milliardo just the other week, and while that hadn't gone so terribly, she was a far less… physical person than her best friend.

Mai, Lin, and Vaughn had come along today, though they were only too happy to follow Jake's order of 'get lost for a few hours' after they dropped them off in the main of the city. After hearing that the princess was going incognito for the day – or at least for a few hours – Major Marakesh had happily insisted the Relena wear her new jeans and a scoop neck t-shirt that left the necklace Jake had given her after their first trip to Munich visible for once. Relena, in turn, had let the older woman lead her along practically by the hand as she pulled her hair back into a low tail with clips for flyaways, then completed the ensemble with a newsboy cap. She had other clothes – nicer, more official-looking ones – in the car so they could get her back to work without leaving Italy first… But really, she suspected this was just simple enough to work. She wondered, briefly, if she could get away with this kind of thing more often… or if frequency would ruin the nature of the camouflage all by itself.

They had moved from the city center to the suburbs now, and were currently in a distinctly upper middle class neighborhood… stopping in front of a house no different from those of the last few blocks.

She had resolved to not ask questions or pester her friend… but not for the first time, she wondered exactly what that they were doing. Considering the house – debating the sheer normalcy of it – it took a moment to realize that the driver's side door had yet to open. She looked back to Jake and frowned in concern at the thousand yard stare he was directing through her window.

Belatedly, she recalled her shock at Jack Miller's completely mundane nature, and reminded herself how really, it was the bizarre that her friend was at home with. Dangerous, odd, downright psychotic, and he would take it entirely in stride. Estranged fathers and people stable enough to live in an old family suburb like this? She resisted the urge to smile. Terrifying.

"Jake?" she asked quietly, debating if she ought to suggest they simply leave. She doubted it would be well received – he could have come up with countless excuses to avoid this if he had wanted to, especially considering the fact that she still had no idea what they were doing – but it would get him moving again.

He let out an explosive sigh and tossed her a smile that was somehow sardonic, disgruntled, but sheepish all at the same time. "I've been avoiding this for years," he admitted. Shaking his head and gesturing at the house, he added, "And Des has been letting me, but that doesn't make me not feel like an ass." He snorted. "And while the man has the patience and conviction of a god, he also has the humor of one."

Relena raised her brows. That… is an interesting description. She debated her words for a moment before settling on a dry, "You're afraid to go in because you might be teased?"

He made a disgusted noise and threw his door open, and Relena grinned before following suit. Almost immediately, she was hit with the smell of hot fresh bread, what could only be some sort of stew, and… peanut butter? She almost laughed at that mix, before deciding that if it smelled this good, the cook must be making separate dishes… or if that wasn't the case, it smelled wonderful enough to try anyhow.

Jake caught her expression and laughed as he locked the doors and gestured for her to follow him to the front door… which was open, oddly. "Looks like Cassie's playing gourmet again."

"I doubt there's much 'playing' involved," Relena argued primly, all too happy to follow her nose.

The colonel only grinned in response, grasping the doorknob to hold the open door still enough to knock on. "Just a minute!" a woman's voice called quickly. Then, a moment later, "Okay, you can come in now!"

Jake pushed the door open wide, and Relena caught a glimpse of soft yellow and pink as he stepped inside. She was confused for a moment as she followed, then saw another flash and realized that she was catching reflections in a series of mirrors in the décor… all leading in the direction of what she imagined was the kitchen. As she crossed the threshold, she blinked at the distinct click her shoes made on the floor – it was painted, but distinctly metal, as were the walls.

It was… nostalgic of the colonies, she supposed – it looked like normal floor, so it couldn't be for the modern aesthetic.

"The loaves are done, but I got a later start than I planned, so the last batch of cookies is still in the oven, if you'll wait," announced a woman as she tended the stove, not looking back at them. Relena immediately recognized her vividly blonde hair as the yellow she had seen a glimpse of, and the pink straps of the apron tied around her explained the rest. She was petite… and amusingly, the polish on her toes matched her apron almost exactly. "The stew's okay enough," the woman went on. "But it'll be better if I give it another ten minutes to simmer."

Jake sighed in an exaggerated way. "Cassie, what's the point of the mirrors if you don't check them?"

The woman – Cassie, evidently – snapped around so fast it was comical, then squealed delightedly at them. Her eyes were a nearly luminescent jade green. "Jake! Oh my God! Um…" She fumbled for a moment as she tried to decide on where to set down the spoon she had been stirring with. "Homes Against Hunger ought to be here any minute to take this all down into town, but…" She finally just dropped her utensil on a random piece of counter and held her arms open for an embrace as she half-waddled towards Jake. "It's so good to see you!" She giggled as he pulled her into a hug and conspiratorially added, "I told Des you'd be back before the third year was up!" When he only started to laugh weakly, she noted, "He was threatening to try to refinance the house just to catch your attention, at one point. I pointed out that it probably wouldn't work, though." She leaned up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek before pulling back, though she kept her hands resting on his elbows. "And look at me!" she beamed.

It's a little hard not to, Relena thought, amused. She hadn't seen it when she was turned away from them, but now that she wasn't, it was a few steps past obvious. Cassie was very pregnant.

And barefoot. In the kitchen.

Jake was grinning back at his friend. "I see you finally managed to talk Des around."

She giggled and winked. "I think he really just wanted me to convince him, in the end."

Jake snorted, and Relena chuckled as his response mirrored her own thoughts. "I'm sure he didn't try too hard if you were that determined. Did I miss the shower?"

"Yes!" she half-snarled in response, smacking him in the shoulder before settling her fists on her hips to glower up at him. "You did. See what happens when you avoid people for years on end?"

"Babies, evidently," he returned dryly, but with a faraway look. Relena could tell he was thinking about Addie back at the house, with her little Willam.

"That's right, babies!" Cassie crowed self-assuredly, cradling her round belly with pride. "I was going to say 'changes', but yes, babies." She patted at her stomach affectionately for emphasis.

Jake's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, plural?"

She stuck her tongue out at him as she backed away and awkwardly spun on one heel, arms still wrapped around her middle as she scuttled back to the stove. "And wouldn't you like to know," she snarked.

He was staring at her in something akin to horror now. "Cassie-"

The oven beeped. "Get those out, would you?"

Jake tossed Relena an exasperated look as he snatched a pair of oven mitts off the counter, and the princess could admit that really, she was hardly any help – she was only just managing to grin like mad instead of laughing outright.

"On the cooling racks over there," the bossy mother-to-be ordered once Jake held a massive cookie sheet in each hand, gesturing towards where said racks were already laid out. He gave her an annoyed look for a moment – which she didn't deign to notice – before simply following orders.

Relena was debating if she ought to offer to make herself useful when a deep male voice called, "Cass?"

"Hold on!" She fished around her neck for a cord and pressed something down on the pendent. "Okay!"

There was something significant about that, but she didn't have time to piece it together before the newcomer made his way into the kitchen. "I thought I heard the oven go off."

Average height, mostly dark hair and fair skin; Relena would guess him to be of Mediterranean descent by the set of his eyes and overall facial structure. Her time with Jake had her instantly cataloguing how he favored his left leg, but in a comfortable way – an old injury. He was well built, but the gray sprinkled through his black hair suggested more age than his muscle tone would indicate. He considered her for a moment too, and she saw recognition light in his dark blue eyes, but he only offered her a respectful nod instead of the usual histrionics. Pleasure flooded her as she returned the gesture, realizing that this must be the friend that they were here to see. There was something deeply soothing, calming, about his presence… something she felt she ought to recognize, but couldn't quite place.

"Jake took care of it," Cassie chirped happily, setting her spoon back down on the counter and moving to lean against the man Relena was now sure was her husband.

The man – Des? Is that short for something? – caressed his wife's hair, carding bright corkscrew curls through his fingers as she sighed and settled more of her weight against him. He frowned, focusing more deeply on her. "Are you tired?"

"A little," she admitted, closing her eyes.

"You should lay down, then," he decided easily. "You've been on your feet all morning."

"I'm not done yet," she whined unconvincingly.

He rolled his eyes even as he chuckled softly and twisted more of her curls through his fingers affectionately. "I'm hardly so helpless than I can't package food." He gave her a gentle shove. "Go." She did, but stuck out her tongue at him, to which he grinned and swatted at her behind, which made her squeal – with as much sheer amusement as indignation, Relena noted – before she scampered out of the room. He laughed lowly and watched her go a little more appreciatively than was appropriate for company – Definitely the father – before focusing back on them, Jake specifically. Casually leaning his bad side against the fridge and crossing his arms, he smirked. "You're late.

"Yes," Jake agreed as he tossed the hot mitts back on the counter. "Though you seem to have kept busy."

Des cackled, and something about his body language, the exact way he did it, hit Relena with crashing wave of clarity. That was exactly how Jake laughed when someone surprised him with a witty comment…

This is someone he first learned to be honest with – to actually show true amusement around. He had modeled himself after this man, at some point in his life.

"You," the man pointed out with an almost evil grin, "never left an address for me to send an announcement to." Shifting his weight and gesturing a little whimsically, he added, "And communicating through Jack just seemed… tactless."

Jake sighed. "He's been around here, then?"

"Mm, on the vid more than in person, but yes." He tilted his head and offered a genuine smile. "It was good of you to invite him over for the holidays, let alone two in a row. It meant a lot to him."

Jake scrubbed nervously at his scalp, which startled Relena as much as Des's laughter. It was one of Jake's genuine gestures of severe embarrassment – not something she saw often from the man, and never in relation to the subject of his father. "I'm… trying."

Des's smile widened even as he shook his head and stood up straight again, moving towards the blonde colonel. "That's the best anyone can do. He doesn't exactly make it easy, I know, but you can be the bigger man in all this." He stopped just outside Jake's definition of personal space and tilted his head, arms crossed.

The pure knowledge the man displayed with his body language as well as the conversation matter, the emotional responses, resonated with Relena even as something else nagged at her. Jake clearly saw the man as family, and she appreciated the softening in atmosphere, especially after the stress of the past few weeks… but there was something besides that, that seemed more… personal? That edging of familiarity, even as she was sure that she had never met the man before.

Jake seemed to half collapse into himself, not meeting the other man's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Des sighed gently. "Well, you figured out on your own that you needed to quit running. That's better than someone making you, really, so we'll call it good."

"I… wanted to find her, first," the blonde admitted quietly.

Des raised one brow, arms still crossed. "How'd that go?" he asked in a dry tone.

"Badly," Jake confessed.

"I could have told you that much would happen." He tilted his head. "Are you that set on feeling guilty, then?"

Jake finally met his eyes, half glowering, even as his lips tried to twitch into a smile. "Maybe."

"Stop it," the older man ordered stolidly.

"Trying."

"Stop trying and do it," the man returned almost flippantly, smirking and bouncing slightly on his toes.

Jake's expression was highly amused, even as his body language was a half-assed attempt at irritation. "You're awfully demanding, old man."

A title she had only ever heard him direct at Jack, this cemented even more just how much of a father figure Des was.

Des barked out another laugh, shifting his weight back onto his good side. "Not so old, boy. I've got a bona fide son making his way into the world in another two weeks; you're lucky you showed up before I finished replacing you."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, what happened to being too old for more kids, exactly?"

Des snorted right back. "You know damn well what happened, brat."

Jake absolutely cackled, finally fully relaxing. "You did marry a twenty-something. It's your own fault."

"I'm going to go with something along the lines of 'love is blind, and children are beautiful,'" Des returned easily, taking a final step forward and pulling Jake into a tight embrace. "It's good to see you, kid," he muttered after a moment. "It took you long enough, but I can't really say how glad I am that you showed up before Lyle made his way into the world."

"Lyle, huh?"

"Unless the ultrasounds are wrong, in which case Cassie wants to go with Madison, which is an absolute travesty that must be avoided," Des returned happily. "So it has to be a boy." He snickered. "In any case, Cass wasn't overly impressed with my plans to show up on the princess' doorstep with a newborn in hand if I couldn't find a better way to make you come to the christening, so it's good you took the initiative."

Jake laughed weakly, holding onto him tighter. "Shit, I missed you…"

"And me you, kid," the man returned warmly. "Stop being such a stranger. Godfather rights get revoked if you stay out of touch for more than six months without the excuse of being under deep cover, hear me?"

He dropped his forehead against Des's shoulder. "Yeah, loud and clear."

"Good. No more of this guilt bullshit, alright? You had nothing to do with it, and even if you did, I don't care – you didn't, alright?"

Jake laughed a bit more helplessly. "Got it."

"Great." Pulling away, he focused on Relena with a smile. "So. My apologies for forgoing an introduction, but I suspect he needed the pep talk."

Relena laughed and waved it off, moving forward to shake his hand. "No need for apologies; I happen to agree. You acknowledged me first in any case, which forgives any rudeness."

He winked at her as he took her hand. If anything, that soothing presence had only increased with the resolution of his discussion with Jake, and the hint of joviality only made it more familiar. "It's always good to know I haven't offended royalty," he quipped.

She grinned as they shook properly. "It hardly needs saying, but – Relena Darlian-Peacecraft. Let's leave off the titles for now."

"As you please," he agreed easily. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Desiderio Noin, at your service."

Relena felt her stomach drop out of her as it finally clicked. Noin. The easy confidence, the deep set, relaxing amusement… his body language, aside from the limp, was nigh identical to Noin's – to his daughter's, because that could be the only relation, now that it had occurred to her.

He smiled knowingly, and her heart almost broke as she realized just how eerily similar that smile was to another's. "Lucrezia always spoke the world of you; it's not too surprising that Jake would follow in her footsteps."

And she was still missing; Jake's reluctance suddenly made a lot more sense. "I'm sorry-"

"Ah, ah, none of that," he scolded resolutely, smiling even as he shook his head. "If anyone bears the right to any guilt, it's her poor judgment and other parties I don't care to mention by name in my house."

"No names?" Jake asked curiously.

"Oh, I have names enough, but they're not fit for polite company," Des dismissed easily, opening a drawer and pulling out a box of large sealable plastic bags. Relena snickered, and he grinned over his shoulder at her before asking, "You're helping me with this, right? Once we've got it ready to go, we can relax in the living room until you need to leave. Cass is probably hogging the couch with a book by now, but there's chairs enough for the rest of us."

oOo


oOo

Near Erfurt, Germany

It had not, in the end, been a hard decision. Following Odin without him noticing had been thrilling and an awesome challenge too, and she was rather proud of herself. Her brother was on his way to becoming involved with Lucrezia, and it wasn't like she was jealous or worried or anything; Odin had good taste, and good judgment, even if he was totally hopeless about a lot of normal stuff. It was just… this lady was important to him, and she had decided she wasn't okay with being cut out of any part of his life that actually mattered to him.

If that meant working with rebel stuff, then her mom could just deal with it; the rebels were doing the right thing anyhow. And Odin would respect her decision; he'd only kept her out of it because her mom had made him agree, and when Odin made a promise, he kept it. All the same though, this was her decision, and going behind his back like this gave him plausible deniability if her mom wanted to get mad about it.

Odin had been making much bigger decisions way younger than she was now, and it wasn't like she was being stupid. She knew her bounds, and so did he – if he told her she needed to back down and hide, or run like a ninny, she wouldn't argue. Odin knew his stuff, and he'd always make sure she was as safe as was practical.

And really, she hadn't missed his uneasiness over the idea of shipping her across Europe to hang out with friends he didn't know so he could do what he had to do without her. She was safer with him, whatever he got up to, than on her own and he knew it. He just followed orders when they were given by somebody he respected, and her mom had totally put an ultimatum on him about not involving her unless it was downright dire.

It was better for everybody if she went rogue just this once and solved the problem they were all dancing around. She couldn't stay in a nice little bubble forever, after all.

So she'd activated the tracker and recording program she'd already put through their linked phones, and kept tabs on him as she followed him up through Germany. When he'd obviously headed out for a gunfight, though, and it was pretty obvious they'd come back to the car, she'd decided to unlock it and hang out there until it was over with. It had been a bit now and she was bored, though, so when the car door opened without warning and a hand grabbed her shoulder hard, she was totally zoned out in the middle of a memory game she'd put on her phone.

For all that she hadn't been expecting it, Odin had made sure her body learned to counter before her mind had a chance to respond a long time ago. Relaxing her grip enough that her phone dropped from between her fingers, she wrapped her left arm around the one grabbing her, limiting her attacker's range of movement and strength, and gripped their jacket tight, using the leverage to slide in closer, fast. At the same time, she shook her right shoulder so the handle of the baton she kept in her coat sleeve slapped into her palm and shifted her weight forward to plant the heel of her boot hard on the upholstery even as she pulled her opponent out of their center of balance. She used the moment of disorientation to raise her right fist up to one ear, then slam it down on the other's right jugular as hard as she could manage both in pure strength and throwing her weight into it for momentum. As Odin had always told her would happen, the woman's eyes rolled up and Marlé didn't try to hold onto her as she collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

It was only then that her brain caught up to what had just happened.

"Oh my God," she cried, falling forward on her hands to stare down at the woman on the ground before looking up to see Odin and two strangers standing six meters away. She focused on her pseudo-brother, her stomach sinking down into her toes. "Please tell me that wasn't Lucrezia!"

Odin's expression was entirely exasperated, while the man to his left looked like he couldn't make up his mind if he was shocked or about to die laughing. The woman to his right, however, only tilted her head to one side, entirely amused. "Impressive," she noted in a husky tone, moving forward. "You must be Marlé."

"Um, yeah… Hi." She focused back down on the woman she'd knocked out guiltily. "Crap…" Looking back up at Odin, she did her best to look utterly miserable. It wasn't exactly hard – she had a pretty good idea of how bad she'd screwed up. "She totally snuck up on me and just grabbed me! I didn't think, I just-"

He still looked exasperated, but he waved a hand dismissively and cut her off. "I've been ingraining you with responsive techniques since we met, Marlé. It's… good to see such an innate response."

"You already knew it was good when you scared me," she pouted.

"But you don't register me as a true threat, and I also know what you're capable of," he pointed out.

The woman who had confirmed her name let out a low chuckle as she knelt next to the one on the ground to check her vitals. "She underestimated you." Marlé blinked as she met her gaze and realized the woman's eyes were purple. Her body language was relaxed, amused… and something about that was just… calming. Almost familiar, actually.

Didn't Mom have a friend with eyes like that when I was little? She'd have to ask… sometime after she got around to owning up to forcing a meeting with Odin's friends.

The woman stood and brushed off her hands, shaking her head. "She had every advantage; maybe this will finally teach the girl something. Xu, get her in the car and buckle her up, mm?"

The way she said that… was a lot like Odin, actually. "You're her teacher?"

Her smile widened, but it was still subdued, if genuine… and she couldn't help but just like her. "She's been my apprentice for over two years now, yes; her and Xutao."

Marlé frowned as she hopped out of the car so Xutao could move the… apprentice. It worked as a title, she supposed. Looking back to Odin, she asked, "Wasn't that the name of the guy you thought was Wufei?"

Xu stumbled as Odin confirmed, "That's him."

She nodded before focusing on the Asian guy and smiling brightly. "I almost met you a year ago, then, but I wasn't fast enough to keep up with the chase yet. I'm Marlé; it's nice to meet you."

"I like the 'yet'," the violet woman announced cheerfully.

Odin crossed his arms, smirking. "She's faster in a dead sprint than Xu. I doubt she could beat him in an obstacle course, but she can outpace me through an urban setting for a solid ten minutes."

"We haven't played tag like that in over a month, Odin," Marlé pointed out quickly. "I've gotten better!"

His smirk widened as the woman laughed delightedly… and Marlé realized something.

This lady was wearing the coat Odin had bought for 'a friend' back on L1.

Relief flooded her as she realized that this awesome chick was Lucrezia, not the handsy one she'd knocked out… and she could definitely see why Odin liked her, if she was like this all the time. "You're cool," she decided.

Lucrezia smirked back at her, tilting her head. "Thank-you." Her eyes trailed back to Odin. "She's tagging along this time, then?"

Her brother shrugged. "Apparently."

Lucrezia pursed her lips and focused back on Marlé for a moment… before her eyes just sparkled. "You're not supposed to be here."

She liked how it wasn't either a question or a reprimand. "My mom has issues she needs to get over, and Odin didn't want to piss her off." Shrugging a bit, she pointed out, "But she loves me, so she can't stay mad at me for all that long… and it's not like he knew about it ahead of time, I totally tracked him, and he didn't catch me." She stood up straighter as pride swelled through her chest. "I think I get points for that."

Lucrezia only smiled. "I would have to agree."

"I like you," Marlé announced. Something about this lady just… resonated, or something.

"You already said that," Odin pointed out. "And I'm not telling your mother. You are."

"Whatever." She grinned. "I really wanted to see Sanc anyway."

"Sanc?" the woman asked Odin curiously.

"Among other places," he returned vaguely. Considering the car for a moment, he noted, "Don't sit next to Hilde."

She made a face at him. "I'm not stupid, Odin."

"I know," he returned simply, moving for the front seat as Xu got 'Hilde' strapped in. "But you're not invulnerable, and she's…" He paused to consider his words for a moment before deciding on, "volatile."

Xutao choked on his spit and started coughing. Lucrezia chuckled and opened the door to the driver's seat. "Apt as ever, Odin."

…Yeah, she could definitely get why Odin liked her.

oOo


oOo

Tivoli, Italy – Noin Household

"How long can you stay?" Des asked, settling back in his chair with a drink in one hand. The charity group Cassie was a part of had come and left with the food while the woman had kept Relena out of sight by showing her the nursery – all done in greens and blues. The two had since been doing who knew what; Jake didn't particularly figure Lena to be the type to coo over baby stuff, but they'd evidently gotten distracted by something or other.

"Another forty minutes or so," Jake admitted with a sigh after considering his watch. "Sorry, but…"

"But you have a job, and a life, and, of course," he raised his glass for emphasis as his smile widened, "a cause. Cheers to that, by the way."

Jake shook his head. "Thanks, I guess."

"You've always had a talent for picking them," the older man pointed out cheerfully.

Before he could come up with any sort of response to that, the doorbell rang again. He frowned. "Did they forget anything?"

"Who knows," Des muttered as he stood and made his way back to the door, checking that the switch was off on the plate before stepping into the entryway. It should be, since they'd shut and locked the door, but… you didn't keep that kind of security and not constantly check it. I need to make sure he knows Cassie didn't look in the damn mirrors, he thought with a grimace. There was no point in a security system if you disabled it before checking who you were letting in.

Des was back in a moment, balancing an overly decorated box with a bright smile. "Delivery?" Jake asked curiously.

"Mm, my yearly proof that I'm still loved," the other returned while giving him an irritated look and dropping back into his chair.

Jake's lips twitched. "You needed proof?"

"It's usually appreciated." He was leaning over to set the box down on the table between them. "It's one of the more useful points of conversing with another person, you realize." He flicked the box open… right into Jake's face as he leaned forward to see what was in it.

The soldier snorted, flicking it back shut. "First of all, we already covered the fact that I have issues, years ago… and this-" He tapped the lid shut again as Des flicked it into his face a second time, "doesn't seem very… wordy, anyhow."

"That's because all you young people are back on the kick of actions meaning more than words," Des told him, toying with the lid, apparently debating if he could get away with flicking it a third time. "Which is all well and good, but words are appreciated too." He met his eyes. "You're supposed to at least say 'thank-you' when someone saves your house, you know."

Jake looked down, studying the lid for lack of anything else to focus on. "I didn't think it was worth the embarrassment."

His voice was dry. "Because my surrogate kid saving my ass was so much more mortifying than getting my ancestral manor foreclosed on would have been. Of course. It all makes perfect sense now. I finally understand why you've been avoiding me all these years."

Jake closed his eyes. "Des…"

"Boy, you paid my damn mortgage and left me no way to even send you a damn thank-you card. I'm not humiliated – I'm irate."

He sighed. "I told you, I wanted to-"

"Lucrezia made it clear to everyone years ago that she was no one's responsibility but her own," her father cut off. "If neither I or the Zeus wannabe have any claim on her, neither do you."

He laughed in spite of himself at that, looking back up to meet his eyes. "Seriously?"

"What's the point in bad puns if you have no one to share them with?"

He gave him a level look and deadpanned, "Ow."

His returning grin was broad. "Thank-you."

Jake rolled his eyes, flopping all the way back in his recliner. "Happy birthday, old man."

He snorted as he opened the box again and pulled something out. "I'm not that old."

"Keep letting your pretty little wife tell you that."

"I will." Then he coughed out a laugh and tossed a little card in Jake's lap. "Hah!"

He frowned, picking it up.

oOo

Not too old to be a Daddy, right?

Happy birthday, and many wishes for the years ahead.

oOo

A nice sentiment… but no one had signed it. The words were typescript… no doubt custom messages were a service from the bakery whose label was typed out on the box. "Cute," he agreed. "Who sent it?"

"It's never signed," Des admitted. "But it shows up like clockwork each year." He spun the box around so the opening faced the soldier. "Have one."

He was opening his mouth to ask why he was comfortable eating something from an anonymous person, but as soon as he saw the contents, the words died on his tongue. Neatly lined up, filling the box, were apple tart squares.

~~oOo~~

"What are you doing?"

"Baking," Lu replied simply, continuing to pull stuff out of the fridge.

Jake considered the tiny little kitchenette she was standing in. It was honestly little more than a sink and maybe two feet of counter next to a stove. "That sounds… painful."

She hummed out an amused noise. "Well, it ought to be interesting, but I can make it work."

He was tempted to ask how, but a more important question rose instead. "Why?"

"Because the local bakery here doesn't make what I need."

That… would make sense if she was talking about something other than baked goods, maybe. "Need?"

She looked over her shoulder at him and laughed at his expression, shaking her head. "Yes. Here," she tossed a bag of apples at him. "Peel and dice those for me?"

He caught the bag and debated for a moment, then just grabbed the roll of paper towels and pulled a knife before dropping to the floor. It was Lu, so… sure, why not. "What are you making?"

"Apple bars."

~~oOo~~

"Lu," he whispered, staring at the things. Every year since he'd met her, she'd either bought or made these for her dad for his birthday… even when they'd been fourteen and crashing in some crap little motel room in a no-name town before meeting up with Des for a few days of vacation up north. It was just what she'd always done; said it was something her mom had always done for him and when the woman had grown sick she'd started taking it over…

…and she'd never stopped, apparently.

Des reached over to pick up a square and place it in Jake's hand, meeting his eyes and offering another smile. "You worry too much, boy."

…Shit, if he'd actually come and visited when he should have, he'd have had a damn proof of life for his friend years ago. He groaned. "I'm a fucking moron…"

"Mm, only some days." Reaching out and taking one for himself, he added, "Eat, before Cassie remembers where the stairs are and claims the rest in the name of Lyle."

He obediently took a bite. "Seriously? You used to hoard these things for a solid two weeks every year." He was generally lucky to get one or two.

"Lesson for a long life: never withhold sweets from a pregnant woman. Violence has a way of following if you do."

He snickered. "I can't really see Cassie violent."

"And I don't care to – Sylvia was more than enough. Cassandra can have anything her hormones desire."

Jake paused before just nodding a little to show he followed. Des didn't usually talk about his first wife unless prompted, so it wasn't exactly… familiar ground. Instead he picked up the card and reread it. "It sounds like she knows about her brother," he offered.

"I've been posting announcements on every sort of social network and news forum I can think of for the past five months," Des told him dryly. "I'm practically shouting it from the mountaintops. You would have to be actively trying to ignore me to not know."

Jake grimaced, taking another bite of his square. "I guess I deserved that." He debated for a moment, then just got it out. "I saw her, last December."

"Your seven month turnaround in the face of proof is absolutely astounding, Jacob. I'm most impressed."

He rolled his eyes. "I was just coming to from almost dying and had some of the most impressive narcotics I've ever had the excuse try in my bloodstream. I convinced myself I probably hallucinated the whole thing." He tipped his head to one side, trying to sort out the details. "If I didn't, though… she grew her hair back out."

"Mm, good call; her Prince Genocide probably has no idea she could look feminine. He'll never recognize her."

"I think that was worse than the Zeus one," Jake noted wryly. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I have to air a few of the stupid ones that will haunt you before the princess comes back and I behave myself," he pointed out happily.

Jake groaned. "No… You really don't."

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July 14th 198 – Tuesday – Skopje, Macedonia – The Skyview

"Welcome to The Skyview, Miss."

"Ah, bonjour!" the young woman greeted exuberantly, doing an impromptu half-curtsy with a bright smile. She was weighed down by bags; not of the traveling sort, but Neiman Marcus, Gucci, Dior, Prada, and the like. This was saying nothing of the full-length white fur coat, ten thousand dollar purse, or the dress that barely covered what it needed to. Maybe it doesn't, Phillip debated as he tried not to stare. The coat probably covered any… mishaps while still allowing her to show off ridiculously long legs. Long, tanned legs that ended in the sort of overly complicated high-heeled shoes that rich women seemed to adore.

In other words, this was the sort of woman who didn't really care or notice how much money she tossed at something, which meant that so long as he played this right, it could be the tip of a lifetime. It ought to be one for the record board they kept in the back room, at any rate.

"How might I be of service, Mademoiselle?" he asked politely, offering a full bow in return to her little excited tilt. English was standard, but she'd already greeted him in French; it would either win him points or make no difference.

She giggled, shifting her weight, juggling her bags a little. "Eh, rooms, yes?"

"Of course. Do you have any particular preference, my lady?"

Her smile was appreciative. "I was told Stogovo. Is… libre?"

"Let me check for you." He tapped at the keys, entering his password and checking the vacancies. "Ah, yes, all fresh and ready for you just this morning. That's one of our most popular suites. You're a lucky lady!"

"Lucky!" she agreed in a happy but vacant way that suggested she didn't actually know the word. She shifted one hip forward, her purse resting on it, and suggested, "Card?"

…The way the zipper on that purse was, he'd have to brush up against her to open it. That was asking for trouble.

She was frowning at him. "Ca va, Monsieur?" She actually jiggled her hips a bit so that the purse bounced a bit towards him… and the hemline of the dress wavered dangerously. He wasn't sure if he imagined seeing something lacy white or not.

Flushing brilliantly – harassment claims, great way to get fired, stay focused! – he waved her off. She obviously had the money for the suite of rooms. "I'll take your payment after you have a chance to set your things down, Mademoiselle," he assured her. "After you see that you like your room, yes?"

"D'accord!" she agreed cheerfully, bouncing back to a more normal stance, and…

Don't think about it, he ordered himself strictly. "Did you have any other luggage?" Come to think of it, it was strange that there wasn't a suitcase in tow.

Pretty gray-green eyes widened as she exclaimed, spinning in a way that he would have thought impossible in those silly shoes to stare at the door; Phillip tried to close his eyes against the flaring hem, but was pretty convinced now that the lace wasn't his imagination. "The cab! He-"

"I'm sure the driver left your bag by the curb, Miss," he assured her. She didn't look any calmer about it – whether it was a lack of translation or belief was debatable – but as she shifted her bags around again and tried to untangle her ankles from their awkward position – How was that possible? – she almost tripped. Thankfully, he'd already stepped around the counter and managed to catch her before she crashed to the marble floor. "Careful there."

Her eyes were still wide with panic as she straightened herself. "Mais, je ne peux pas-"

"You stay right here, miss, where it's warm," he told her in an easy tone. He knew maybe three words of French, but tone of voice had a way of crossing the language barrier. He made a placating gesture at her as he released his hold on her arms, and gestured towards the front door of the lobby. "I'll go find them, okay? Daccor?" Mimicry helped on occasion too.

"Oh, merci!" She cried, practically as if he'd offered to save her kitten out of a river. "Merci, Monsieur!"

He offered her an easy smile and nod. "It's no trouble, Miss." He rushed for the door at a commanding sort of pace, eager to get out of view to try and regain some composure… and groaned at the five large cases, all of a matching set, sitting on the curb. Of course. How she could have possibly forgotten about this much luggage was beyond him. Letting out a long breath, he pulled out his key for the little valet closet to one side, where he could get a cart to load the lady's things onto.

He didn't see the young blonde step gracefully around the side of his desk and seriously examine the screen for a moment, tapping quickly at the keys to review the recent information taken in for the Stogovo suite. He didn't see her pull a phone out of her coat and silently snap a few pictures. By the time he made it back inside, his screen was back at the setting he had left it at, and she was awkwardly trying to pick up a smaller shopping bag that she had dropped without putting any of the others down first.

It was times like this that Phillip was really glad their hotel only kept external cameras. As big of a tip as he might get for this, he was just as glad that none of his coworkers would ever be able to see him gape like a fish when a red satin piece of negligee fell to the floor while his guest turned almost upside down. They could never call him on stuttering and blushing like a virgin when she let out an aggravated noise and asked him to please pick it up for her… that no, not that bag, put it here

Maybe he wouldn't write up whatever tip he got on the record board in the break room. This was the least suave he would ever want to admit to being in ten lifetimes; he didn't want any questions.

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Fifteen minutes later

Priya snickered to herself as she tugged her phone back out of her pocket and tossed her coat on an armchair before going to flop on the couch. Some people were just so easy to put off balance… poor boy. He had to be at least five years her senior, but really, he couldn't be anything but a boy, with how easy he was to tug this way and that.

Shaking her head, she focused back on her cell, biting one lip. The fact that it had been a remote check-out meant she was dealing with a wider search radius than she'd like… but there was a boon of some extra information she hadn't expected, so she couldn't be too upset. It could make things easier…

But how cautious is he being? Would a regular search on the name set off personal flags? It was a pity that she couldn't take the risk that it wasn't so. No… too much was at stake to risk spooking him; she'd just have to go about it by more oblique routes, and see where she ended up.

Ah, well. Half the fun of a search was the ways you got sidetracked.

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Just Communication


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Thoughts?

To everyone who has reviewed… Thank-you. I'd write this just because I would go insane if it stayed only in my head, but it goes much more slowly when I lack impetus, and feedback both teaches me more about writing, and gets me all wound up and excited so that the plotlines and characters jump out at me and I get so excited that I have to write them out immediately. Lately, with how life has been, when I don't get that feedback nothing gets done, because I don't have the time to get completely wound up on my own; by the time I get to the brink, I realize I'm late on something that I have to get done ASAP.

fan-to-fiction, since you didn't leave a means for m to talk to you more directly, I wanted to say thanks for the alternate viewpoint. I wouldn't change something like that because of complaints, rest assured; the only difference might be that I put more effort into developing the scenario. In the end of the day, criticisms are just another way to learn… *Grimaces* though now that I've now lived through a whole new degree of damning criticism in real life, I can't say I believe that good always comes of it somehow. I handed myself over on a damn platter for being molded into my chosen profession, and that woman happily took her time breaking me… though I guess we'll see if, now that I've put myself back together, the fact that I'll likely never trust so deeply is a good thing. Maybe it is; I'll find out eventually, I imagine. I'm here, at any rate, and not worse for the wear in the end; I just… learned a fair bit about emotional strife and betrayal… which hey, ought to give me an edge with a lot of the characters I'm writing. Didn't care to be put through that but… well, done's done. I'm rambling, at any rate.

I've been debating exactly how Olivia and Dorothy would reconcile since before I introduced the girl; even I didn't expect the level of hilarity that turned out, though.

The space campaign should be pretty brutal in some ways, I think in fair part due to culture; the colonial population doesn't seem to have the same ideas about "honor" and "fair fight" as Zechs likes to believe in. Absolute guerilla tactics are going to be the norm, and it's going to drive our Prince rather crazy.

Jake's… Jake is making Quatre look stable, right now. Odin has no respect for the idea of land ownership; I think he seriously just doesn't follow the concept of space not being a public commodity that anyone can claim for certain tasks for a degree of effort. I'm going to blame that one on how he grew up; his sense of belonging or stability is based on people and action, not on places. That has resulted in complete irreverence to the idea that a "place" can be property, instead of something you continuously maintain security on if you need to keep using it privately.

I honestly meant to show Relena cutting her teeth on politicians before this, and I've touched on it before, but only barely. That little party scene was beyond fun to write.

…It's really not a good week for Hilde. She honestly needs to get over herself, but I also don't see it ever happening. That ego's never going to pop, even when it really ought to…

I've been working hard on developing Noin for some time now, and I've been trying to use the perspectives of those close to her as much as her own. The woman is often presented as being as bereft of family as the other main characters of Gundam Wing, but when I tried to look at her on a pure psychological and sociological level… she's frankly too healthy, too stable, to have lacked a solid home life. Her values system strongly reflects it, the same way Sally's does. If you look back, You'll see that Desiderio Noin has been referenced a handful of times throughout earlier Sedition, and that Lucrezia has mentioned Cassie at least once, but a frame of reference as to who they were was never given until now.