oOo


Chapter Seventeen

Recognition


The acknowledgement of a single possibility can change everything. – Aberjhani


oOo

Some secrets are finally shared with the group, while others are outed with unpredictable consequences. Duo tries to extend his information network in response to the latest bombing while Adam fumbles - Marie helps significantly, while proving that some of Heero's more alarming talents can be learned. The Cambyses survivors are all still working out the kinks for coping mechanisms with varying degrees of success and Quatre's no exception - though Odin doesn't really appreciate Quatre pointing out when he's doing something similar.

Then there's a masquerade ball that... maybe gets abused, a bit.

oOo


Edits:

So… I found a mostly viable way to split this one, but it felt weird, and my beta was against it, so it's here in its original, 61 page glory. All 37,000 words. Be warned that a lot happens in this chapter, and then it kinda just… keeps on going.

Enjoy.


oOo


October 21st 198 – Monday – Assen, Netherlands

"Gentlemen," Minister Darlian-Peacecraft murmured as she swept into the room after the first of her bodyguard. "May I say that it was a genuine pleasure to be invited here today?"

"I'm glad to hear it," Senator Ono returned easily. His smile turned a touch mischievous. "Not that I would have asked, if I thought you might disapprove."

"Oh, naturally," the princess agreed, smirking. "But this really is up my alley." Shoulders drooping, she sighed. "And if this can do anything to help prevent another event like Saturday, of course I will support it."

"That is the idea," Duke Sylvester Joyner agreed somberly, gripping the back of his chair and trying not to watch the young woman's guards too obviously as they checked over the room. Two men, one blonde and one dark, and a woman of indistinct descent – brown hair and Asian features with light green eyes. The blonde colonel had been her shadow since she stepped back into the public eye in 197, but it wasn't uncommon now for her to appear only with the other two. All three, today… It probably meant nothing, but was worth noting.

"The current customs arrangement has long been a hindrance in any case," Ono continued. "Honestly, the border was arranged more out of tradition than anything. The promised security was a comfort after the Fall, but…" He affected a helpless sort of shrug. "The reality of the matter is that it was a pointless bit of posturing. Maintaining national sanctity sounded good after the dissolution of the World Nation, but in reality it's proven nothing more than a practice in frustration. Having a more open border will bolster trade as well as allow for faster response times in crisis. Truthfully, Syl and I had already been in discussion over this before the bombing – it just served as the final push to get everything in motion."

"It makes perfect sense to me," Relena admitted, allowing the taller of her two men, the lieutenant, pull out a chair for her. "And it's hardly the first arrangement of its like I've handled since beginning my term." Her smile quirked back into a smirk. "Though I spent nearly two weeks negotiating the terms between Moldova and Ukraine."

"This is hardly the same," Sylvester negated as he pulled out his own chair and settled into it. "We have no recent history of poor relations to work around." He pressed his lips together, and considered for a moment before deciding to go ahead and say it. Everything he had both seen himself and heard about others' interactions with the princess of Sanc implied that transparency was prudent. "We tried to involve Duchess Lydia Pinion and Duke Gerard Bristow, but they were… hesitant. Perhaps once this is well received, they will change their tune."

Relena hummed, pulling the file left in front of her closer and opening it. "Many find it easier to follow the crowd than lead."

"Perhaps they shouldn't be leading their people, then," James offered sarcastically.

"Not everyone is an elected official, man," Sylvester reminded the senator.

"Maybe they should be," his friend pointed out in a cool tone, re-igniting an old argument.

An argument that Sylvester really didn't want to be having in front of a princess of the Regime, but evidently, the Dutchman didn't consider that a decent deterrent, so here they went. "A complete democracy moves too slowly for the current world climate. To be frank, they move too slowly even in a peaceful setting, and it's only worked as well as it has in your country because you're too small for anyone to bother with." As it currently stood, the Netherlands was self-sufficient enough to be insular, without any boons great enough to be worth pressuring. If only Germany could be so peaceful. But with greater resources and wealth came greater conflict, and therefore greater responsibility.

"Lydia has more to lose if this is rejected," Sylvester continued. His childhood friend had wanted to join them, but had valid concerns about going first, considering her long border to Poland that she wasn't ready to open. She didn't have the same close working relationship with the Macklin family that he and James had spent over a decade fostering, and the Macklins… didn't have the best reputation.

"Did you put out any feelers for Countess Shiavonne?" Relena asked curiously without looking up from her papers.

Oh, please don't. He knew better than to hope, but he really didn't want to be on the Minister's bad side.

"Years ago," James returned in a scathing tone. "But Esther has no say – your brother only keeps her as a placeholder for Belgium, and he has no interest."

Relena only sighed. "Naturally." Still not looking up, she shook her head and sarcastically added, "Since solidarity meant so much when the Brussels compound was put under siege."

"He would argue that you handled it fine without help," James pointed out, eyes intense as he studied the young woman.

"Yes, let's rely on good fortune and the intimidation tactics of a few paranoid bodyguards alongside brute force," the princess deadpanned, flipping a page. "Excellent idea."

Her lieutenant let out a groan. "That night was a total shitshow."

"We should have stayed in Germany," Relena agreed without batting an eye.

"But too much of what we have now came from that," the colonel pointed out. "The news coverage, Amsterdam… I don't think we'd have picked up Sergeant Polanski if we hadn't gone back that night."

The princess smiled again, finally looking up to toss a sly look back at the blonde. "I suppose Hayden was worth the bullet wound," she agreed in a dry tone. Turning back to the two of them, she finally met first Sylvester's eyes, then James'. "If it counts for anything, I'm personally in favor of a meritocratic system similar to what L1 uses. We'd have to alter it significantly to get it accepted, but it would at least be a step in the right direction." She raised a brow. "I may be a Peacecraft, Senator, but I was raised a Darlian, and I know exactly how little power the democratic party held under the Alliance. I'm not interested in creating another puppet theater; if a classless system cannot keep pace on an executive level, I won't support it."

Sylvester felt almost as though she had kicked him in the gut. "Executive level?" he tried to clarify before James could make more of an ass of himself.

The look she gave him was skeptical. "I should think that actions speak louder than words. I've always supported elections on the local level. It's only when things move beyond city management that the situation grows dubious." Focusing back on James, she continued. "That said, the Netherlands, at least, has been proving it's entirely viable thus far; only time will tell for its longevity." She considered the papers for another long moment before shrugging and sliding the packet in the direction of her colonel. "Make sure that matches what we read before arriving, please." Looking back at the somewhat stunned officials at the table with her, she asked, "Senator, I don't suppose you know a good local eatery? You sound like someone whose brain I'd like to pick for another hour or so, while we have the time." Her eyes flicked back to Sylvester. "I'm more impressed by your taste in friends every time we meet, your Grace; my thanks for the introduction."

She was extraordinarily good at toeing the line between old world formality and the working class, wasn't she?

"I… am not very familiar with this area," James admitted, swallowing his surprise. "I usually work out of Groningen."

"Fair enough." The princess turned to the female major in her entourage. "Ask Marsden to pick something for an early lunch, please."

The woman nodded easily, tipping her chin up and smiling at them as she pulled out her phone. "Do we need to account for any dietary restrictions, gentlemen?"

"Ah, tomato allergy," James admitted. "But that's fairly easy to avoid."

"That it is," she agreed happily, tapping at her screen. "Plated?" she asked curiously as an aside to her princess.

"I don't see why not," Relena agreed. "No pork; Duke Joyner doesn't much care for it."

That wasn't a detail he ever would have expected her to remember from their prior encounters. Still, he was more familiar with the city than James, and if they were allowing the boundaries to fall this far already… "I'm partial to Vietnamese," he offered, knowing his friend was as well. "I know a good restaurant on the eastern end of town; Photastic."

Relena's smile was bright. "That sounds excellent." She settled her elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Now tell me a little more about your long-term goals here. I can guess, but I'd rather clear the air."

oOo


oOo

Prague, Czech Republic

"Picking up things we shouldn't read, Looks like the end of history as we know…".

Sally smiled as she peered through the open doorway, listening to Lucrezia sing along with the music. The younger woman was flowing through the room more than walking, all liquid grace.

She'd seen her happy before, but it had always been more manic; that spark of joy mixed with action, not this easy peace.

"Back to the street where we began, Feeling as good as love, You could, You can…" Lu caught sight of her as she turned to pull something else out of her bag and grinned. "Hey, you."

Sally chuckled and came the rest of the way into the room, holding up her package as an offering. "I was going to ask if you had a good time," she announced. "But I don't really think I need to."

Lucrezia's smile brightened even more as she reached for it. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he was a romantic."

Sally came closer and handed the box over. "What is he instead, then?"

"Observant. Attentive. Thorough." She considered the wrapping for a moment, obviously trying to decide what it had been. "Unbelievably thorough." The last word was delivered with almost a purr, her eyes half-mast.

Damn. This wasn't just happy – it was a level beyond. Go Heero.

"This… is a printout of last week's soft supply inventory for our western Germany safehouses." Lu's brows ticked up. "Which is either really inaccurate or a really big fucking problem."

"It's taken care of," Sally reassured her. "I chewed out the tech who screwed up for you. Happy birthday – feel free to tear that into tiny little pieces."

Her general cackled and promptly tore off a scrap to toss in her face, then smiled broadly as she read the label. "'Death Wish Coffee?'"

Sally smirked. "Considering who you just had a weekend getaway with, I thought it was pretty on target."

Lucrezia started laughing helplessly as she ripped the rest of the impromptu wrapping off her gift. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? I've never even heard of this brand before, where-" She cut herself off with a choke as she flipped the little bag over and read the details. "Sally!"

"Yeeeess?" she trilled back, feeling proud of herself.

"You can't just…" She trailed off and held the package to her stomach before staring up at the other woman, wide-eyed. "This is Peruvian."

"Yes, it is."

Her eyes stayed huge and turned pleading. "How am I supposed to drink priceless Peruvian coffee?" she demanded.

"Happily, I hope."

The other woman groaned. "This is ridiculous," she protested. "How did you even find it? I can't believe you'd spend money on this, it had to have cost-"

"I have connections," Sally reminded her. "And it was a gift, so don't worry about it. I just thought I'd pass it on to someone who'd actually appreciate it." She'd learned to drink coffee out of self-preservation in medical school and the habit had stayed with her after, but she had never much enjoyed it. "So." She smiled again, pointedly leaning into her friend's personal space to peer up into her face, since she'd started looking down as she fussed. "Happy birthday."

Lucrezia groaned and pulled her into a hug, sniffing. "You're the best, you know that?"

She hugged her back. "I don't know about that," she hedged. "But I try."

oOo


oOo

October 22nd 198 – Tuesday – Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

"Hey."

Relena jumped at the sudden realization that someone was right behind her – but even as her adrenaline spiked, she recognized him enough that she only twitched her earmuffs into the wall instead of setting them down on the counter next to her gun and glasses.

Before she could so much as look over her shoulder, however, Jake's chest was to her back. "Hey," she gasped, heart racing.

He hummed as he settled his weight, shoulders framing hers like when he had first begun teaching her to shoot. "You're keyed up." He was speaking almost into the skin of the back of her neck, which ought to have been ticklish, but… It's probably a good thing that none of this had started before my lessons, she thought dimly, the rest of the world fading into something hazy and slow. I might be still learning the basics.

"A little." She swallowed hard, suppressing a shiver as he ran his hands down her arms and briefly fiddled with her fingers as though at a loss before interlacing them with his own. Another thoughtful moment later, he drew their arms across her body, settling joined hands at the opposite hip before pulling her ever so slightly closer. The position had her leaning back just enough that she would have been off balance had he not been there to fall into.

A hint of stubble brushed along her skin as he dragged his face up to bury his nose in her hair and take a few slow, deliberate breaths. "Sorry. I thought you noticed me come in."

She giggled disbelievingly – she didn't buy that for a moment – and relaxed into him a little more, twisting her head to try and see his expression. All she managed, though, was an eyeful of layered golden hair as he tucked his face back into her neck, hiding his eyes. "Just where have you been, lately?" she wondered aloud, feeling playful.

God, but I missed this. Not that they had ever been quite this casually intimate, but it had been so long since they began their dance of empty gestures and touch. The last time she could remember so few barriers between them had been in Brussels. No, she realized a moment later. No, maybe this smoldering attraction that they had used as a justification to start distancing themselves had been absent, but they had always kept walls between them even as they dissolved others. Now…

There were secrets still to be shared, now, but the urgency was gone. The terrible truths they had used as excuses to hold the other at arms' length even when touching skin to skin out in the open were gone. All the questions had been stripped away, and at the center of it, it was only the two of them left. Without all the lies festering, she could finally, truly relax…

It was glorious.

"Mm." He seemed to think about it for a long moment before offering, "Everywhere but here?"

She closed her eyes, still more tension seeping out of her. "That might explain a few things."

He brought his head back up to rest his cheek flush to hers. "I have this bad habit," he admitted slowly. "Of thinking I can plan and maneuver my way out of anything." He sighed, arms tightening for a moment before trying again. "It never hits me that I might not want to follow through on a plan until suddenly my brain's so far ahead of my heart that I can't… I can't figure out where the two came apart and I just… flail around." He sighed again, frustrated. "In the dark. Trying to find my way back."

"Mm. There are worse habits," she assured him. "And in your defense, you don't do it very often."

His grip tightened painfully for a moment before abruptly going slack. Surprise quickly spun into something close to panic and she clung to him, refusing to let their intertwined grip move from her waist until he regained himself a moment later. "Well, rare or not, until now, the consequences have always been really… Permanent."

Oh, Jake. He had such a severe tendency to see the common line between all the ill that happened to him as himself, and that… She knew from personal experience just how slippery that slope could become. The heart had a way of only remembering boons or slights when least convenient.

But while she could relate, that didn't make his little episode of self-disgust any less absurd.

"I should hope," she pointed out in a mild tone, "that the consequences of this are permanent too."

He froze again for a long moment and then… as though a dam had burst, suddenly he was flowing around her curves, peppering kisses up her hairline. Biceps flexing against her ribs, he dragged her palms down her body, down past her hips, wrists still crossed with enough pressure that she shifted up and back without thinking and would have been mortified if he hadn't gasped into her hair and ground against her in response. Instead, she found herself stretching up on her toes to give him more reach, a tingling warmth spreading under her skin like fire from the friction of her jeans against her thighs.

Jake hissed, body shuddering as he nipped at her neck, as if in reprimand. "Stop that."

Relena grinned instead, straightening out her fingers and leaning further back, pushing down and sliding up against his body at the same time – focused on the way his breath stuttered with hers, on feeling her heartbeat everywhere.

He groaned, yanking their arms tight back around her ribs and picking her up to resettle her on her feet. "Not helping."

Whatever it was he thought she ought to help with, it was obviously stupid. She stood upright again though, mostly because it was that or hang her weight and make him drop to the floor with her like a child. Besides, there are easier ways. "Do it again," she demanded, testing his grip.

He pressed his face into her neck again, the scrape of his whiskers searing yet more heat into her bones. She could feel his heart fluttering against her spine, no longer its usual steady beat, and that made her own thunder harder. "Relena," he whined in protest.

"Do it again," she insisted, the fabric of her shirt buzzing across her shoulders as she tried to burrow deeper into his chest.

He grunted, holding her more tightly to stop her from moving, then let out air like a popped balloon when he realized that was the point. "If I do it again," he practically growled, "I'm not sure I'll be able to stop."

She… had surprisingly few compunctions with that. She made herself stop and turn the idea over a few more times in her head, but… "Do it again," she repeated.

This time he laughed, breathless. "Fuck, Lena, you know I haven't done any of this before, I haven't even kissed you yet-"

"There is literally nothing stopping you," she interrupted pointedly, dropping her head back to try to meet his eyes again. The heat was fading into something more numb as she tried to calm down, clammy and feverish all at once.

"You're insane," he snapped, exasperated. "I need to at least take you out to dinner first."

She resisted the urge to grind her teeth. "Jake," she grit out. "My life is not a sitcom, we can't go out to dinner." The paparazzi alone made that a horrible idea; she didn't need anyone else's opinion on the appropriateness of her love life.

He sighed and pressed his cheek to hers, tightening his grip. "I know. I'm working on it, okay? Maybe not dinner."

Closing her eyes, she tried to relax, letting him hold her. "Please tell me you're not going to spend another three weeks ironing out the details."

His sigh was ragged. "I can't do this for three more weeks."

"I'm not sure I can do one week."

He froze for a moment, tapping out a pattern against her ribs with his fingertips, then pressed his lips to the underside of her jaw in another kiss. "Okay," he decided in a breathless voice. "Okay, I can work with a deadline."

She groaned and pressed into him again, the numb of her skin reigniting into static electricity. "I'll remember that."

The buzzer for the door to the range went off before the door was slammed open. "So! You have maybe three minutes before Illian and Hayden meet me for target practice," Lin announced loudly. "And I feel like I should point out that you're standing in front of the observation window."

Oh God, they really were standing in the damned shooting range; she hadn't even called her target back. I just tried to- She felt like her face might actually be able to light a candle. Jake let go of her hands and she dropped them to the counter, resting her weight there as her legs shuddered, feeling like she'd been doused with ice. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jake drop heavily against the wall of the cubicle she'd been using. "Sorry!" she gasped out.

Lin snorted, sounding amused. "Yeah, I really don't care. Just thought you might appreciate the heads up. Have fun." She could hear him walk a few steps away before the door fell shut again.

She didn't look to the side when Jake moved, but she was pretty sure he was covering his face with both hands. "Sometimes," he announced after a long moment, "I regret pulling that man out of his shell. Or introducing him to Mai."

That… That. Yes. He might have a point.

Fighting to gather her nerves, she stared down at her open revolver, breathing hard. The raging fire under her skin had vanished – instead, she felt as though she had a heavy, live coal buried deep in her gut.

"Relena?"

Reignite, or douse?

She closed her eyes, centering herself. "One week, Jake." She had no idea what she would do if he ignored the ultimatum, but she couldn't come up with anything that wasn't even more of an absolute demand.

He'd figure it out.

"Right. One week." He sounded winded.

"Or less," she added, lifting her head enough to look down the lane at her spent target.

"Right. Got it." He cleared his throat. "I'll just…"

Her stomach fluttered in a way that was either ecstasy or nausea, and she'd never imagined those might be so similar. Licking her lips, she squeezed her eyes shut again and tried to remember the room's camera angles. "If you are still here when I turn around, I'm not sure what will happen," she began. "Beyond regretting that it will have been recorded on a computer that someone is probably watching right now."

"…I'm… going to go take care of that." A moment later the door slammed open again, and she was alone.

Relena took another deep breath in and out… and stood all the way up, hitting the switch to call back the paper hanger. It was far too early to feel this spent – she had an entire day to get through yet.

All the same though… One week.

She had something to look forward to.

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

"I hate you."

"You'll get over it," Shov told him. "It sucks like hell right now, but it's the only way out and the more we do this, the sooner you can quit climbing the walls and hating everything."

Will groaned but didn't try to pull back from the stretch, for all that he was shaking. "Doesn't change the fact," he gasped out.

"You'll thank me when you can stand to be vertical for more than two hours at a go," Shov argued. "You're done with the really hard part of the pain; now you just have to be stubborn enough to push through the rest."

"You're full of shit and your pep talks suck," Will groused.

"Yeah, I know. Nothing to really do about it, though." In any case, Shov knew he'd said way worse to the nurses helping him through physio than Will could come up with, so he wasn't going to take it personally.

Physical therapy fucking sucked. It really didn't matter if you had top of the line care like the princess had arranged for him or just somebody helping you through your routines every day like he was with 'Liss's dad – it made you hurt and so exhausted you wanted to sleep for a week, then depressed because it really shouldn't be so hard to move a little and you knew it. Rehab was just one of those crappy things you had to go through to get better, and he knew it better than anyone else in their hodgepodge family; he'd only been cleared to work full time again last week.

Cleared for a desk job. He wouldn't be up for patrolling again for months, maybe not even for a year, and didn't that burn. He knew he ought to be happy he had a job at all, let alone one that would make allowances for how close he'd come to dying last year, but it still made him feel utterly fucking useless. Helping Will get through his own rehab was the least he could do, especially when he could see that trying to do it himself was breaking Kay into pieces. Nolan wouldn't confront him on it when he tried to skip, and the last time Melissa had pressed it had turned into a screaming match across the Den. Kay had the stomach to bully the old man through it, but it fucked with his head, and, well… If he was honest, Shov needed to do something to help after how long he'd been away.

Browbeating 'Liss's old man out of the puddle of misery and depression he turned into if left alone too long was a really weird way to reconnect with his childhood, but, well… Will Mehile was the only adult left from his old neighborhood.

Wasn't that a trip? Not that he'd thought of himself as not an adult for a good six years, but… Nobody his parents' age seemed to be around anymore. Other than some of the staff at Ritafore, the oldest people he knew were probably the guys who ran the local pubs, Bryce and Jérémy, and they were only about ten years older than him, in their thirties. Then he supposed there was Kay's old boss, Tatem, who was probably pushing seventy, but…

Where had all the middle-aged people gone?

"Come on, one more set and I'll let you go be a sad little puddle of human," Shov decided. He was doing better; and he'd always thought it was easier to get through when the PT was sarcastic. Besides, 'Liss and Nolan were sassy little shits once you got past the layer of polite they pushed at strangers, and they had to have gotten it somewhere.

"Right," Will grumbled, and started to actually reach for it.

Shov rolled his eyes. "You know, if you started like that, this wouldn't be this bad."

"No," the other man disagreed, shaking as he continued. "It'd be worse."

"I'm telling your kids you're a big, whiney baby."

Will scoffed, not looking at him. "They knew that."

God, but he could be obnoxious. "Man, rock that pride, asshole."

"When you," the man gasped out, "are old and tired-"

"Yeah, I'll tell everyone 'bout how badass I was walking uphill to school both ways, not how I wanna give up because shit's hard," Shov cut off. "You've made it awfully far to let something like getting better drop you, man."

It was a relief when the bells on the front door chimed, and he stood up, heading for the stairs. He pointed and glared back at the man as he walked away, but Will just ignored him. On the other hand, he was finishing his damn set of strength exercises without being loomed over, so he was going to call it a win.

"Hello?"

English. He smiled as he came out onto the banister. "Welcome to New Renew!" Unaccented, so probably not a local, but he looked like pretty local stock. "Can I help you?"

The man's lips twitched in something halfway between a smile and grimace. "You're not Kasey so… no. I don't think so."

Shov rolled his eyes. "Cute. The lady von Koll should be back from a house call shortly, but Kasey won't be in until the day after tomorrow."

"Ah." He frowned, looking around the little office front as Shov came the rest of the way down the stairs. "Damn."

"Was… there a reason you wanted him specifically?" Usually customers were appeased with Melissa, he'd gathered, but if it was delicate, well… People could get touchy about their electronics. On the other hand, he wasn't carrying anything, even a backpack, so it either had to be small or… maybe just a consult?

The man shrugged. "I was hoping to get his opinion on something." He shifted his weight restlessly. "I guess I can come back Thursday, if you're sure he won't be back this afternoon."

Shov tried to force his instincts back down as he realized the fabric of the guy's shirt moved just enough wrong that he probably had a gun against his back. A lot of people packed heat; he carried a gun most of the time, and had for years now. "Pretty sure, though I can't be positive," he confirmed, trying to stay relaxed. "I'll probably see him later tonight, but that's after shop hours; I could give him a message? But he'll be here all day Thursday." He'd have school set up in the loft for the rest of the week. Normally he did that on all weekdays, but…

Well, he was cooking up something running around like he was, but he hadn't been interested in explaining, and Melissa'd said to just leave it for another couple days, so he was. She and Rina had always been best at figuring out how to handle their American turned Dutchman.

Man, he had to bite back a freaking giggle every time he heard someone refer to Kay like that! How many months had it been after he'd arrived before they'd stopped giving him shit for slipping into English or talking with an accent? Now it seemed like no one outside the Devils even remembered he'd been just another American refugee after Libra. Well, not really, because he was colonial, but they'd all assumed he was just another transplant that had managed to dodge the eastern states and Africa because his Dutch was passable. Those two least stable areas post-Fall had been the Regime's favorite dumping grounds for the displaced survivors, after all.

"I'll just come back," the customer decided, waving absently in a dismissive way. "Everyone deserves their days off, right?"

That was totally not what was going on – he wasn't sure Kay knew what a vacation even was – but he wasn't going to say that. "Can't argue with that," he agreed laughingly instead. "Have a good day, mm?"

His smile was quiet, but he nodded respectfully as he opened the door again, making the bells chime. "Thank-you."

"Who was that?" Will called down.

"Just some guy. You done yet?"

He made an irritated noise. "Almost. What'd he look like?"

"I dunno, like some guy," Shov returned, starting back up the stairs. "Who cares?"

oOo


oOo

Munich, Germany – Dorothy's House

"Hello?"

"Please tell me you have a master plan for Halloween that I can commandeer."

Dorothy smiled broadly, sinking back in her chaise, feet up on the arm. "Of course I do," she purred. "Just who did you think you were calling?"

The sound he made was half laughter, but also somewhat strangled; it wasn't a very Jake noise, but she supposed everyone had bad days. "And?"

"Mm…" She pulled her phone away from her ear and checked the time. "You have a fitting appointment in two hours; don't be late."

"Don't troll me, Thea."

She grinned; she had assumed he would catch on, but it had been worth a try. "No, really, she's waiting for you."

"And how long has she been waiting, exactly?"

One of the more fantastic things about Jake was that he knew how to ask the right questions. "Only eight days or so." Truthfully, she had started to worry that he wouldn't gather the nerve until they were only a day out. Pulling up her chat program, she sent a quick text to the discreet seamstress Olivia preferred. "Beyond that, the details are sorted. All you have to do is relax and go with the flow."

He chuckled. "You have met me, right? Sometime during the past two years?"

"Maybe once or twice," she returned happily. "Oh, that reminds me – you realize you've traumatized Vaughn?"

"I'd hardly call it trauma," he defended, trying not to laugh.

"He seems both intimidated and confused, as well as anxious," she argued. "I'm fairly sure that meets the definition." Rolling onto her stomach, she pointed out, "You've been so careful about displays before now. What changed?"

"Oh, I was wondering if you'd noticed," he announced happily instead of answering. "Relena seems to think I bum money off her brother when I get her nice things."

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "And how exactly would you have validated the florist under expenses?"

"I didn't buy the florist." There was still laughter in his voice. "That's illegal."

She smirked. "But you could have."

"Wouldn't be worth the effort," he agreed by way of denial. "When did you figure it out?"

"I had my suspicions last year," she admitted. "But the clubs gave it away." He regularly spent what ought to have been his salary on random children when he toured with Relena, but he had virtually no living expenses while Relena was under his care – it had been unlikely, but feasible, considering how even in Sarracenia he lived a fairly minimalist lifestyle. But he hadn't batted an eye at the outfitting cost for taking her clubbing… and he hadn't spared a single expense either. He hadn't balked at gaining more of the same quality when she suggested it, and the high carat sapphires he wore in one ear were set in platinum.

And he never hesitated when it came to bribes. That mindset was more telling than anything else.

"Mm, fair enough."

"Relena knows you work for RLTT," she continued, debating what she could get out of him. "So do you have a second income there, or access to a trust fund?"

He sputtered out a delighted laugh. "Does she?"

Dorothy scowled. Well, that puts a dampener on that theory. Probably, at least; it sounded like an authentic reaction, but it was Jake. "Are you going to tell her any differently?"

"Soon." He let out a deep sigh. "I'm mostly there now, so if I don't explain before December, call me out on it."

"Can I tell her we talked about this?" she asked curiously, turning on one side.

He sighed again. "If you're offering, I'd really rather you didn't. I'm telling her everything… probably within two weeks, but absolutely before December, and I'd like to do it myself. I just…"

"You can't be scared of how she'll react," Dorothy argued.

"No, but I'm taking the opportunity of Lena crashing my brain to reorganize." He made an irritated noise. "It's… hard, okay? But the way I'm sorting through everything, I… I need to make sure I never do something like this again. When I was a kid, my uncle was the only authority I respected, and even after that, the closest anyone got was somebody whose opinion I'd consider before I decided what I'd do, and that's… It's dumb, okay? I'm a grown-ass man with responsibilities and people I care about, who care about me back, and it took a total mental breakdown that lasted for months to make me realize I'm sick of playing lone wolf. That's… that's really fucking bad, Thea. Now that I'm on the other side of it looking back, that's monumentally bad. It needs to never happen again, and that means actually trusting the people I tell myself to trust and working up a set of checks and balances that exist somewhere outside of my own brain, where I can't just toss them aside when they get inconvenient.

"It's… it's about discipline, and recognizing where I went wrong and what I should do differently and… Damn it, I need to call Jack and just… say I'm sorry for being such a dick when all he ever tried to do was the right thing, because I know how my uncle was and…" He shuddered hard, like he was stifling tears. "Dorothy… there is no way in hell I would leave a child with my uncle for more than a few weeks. But I can't make myself tell my father that he was right to try to take us away. I know I would do the same goddamn thing if I had been in his shoes, and I've known it for years, but I hate him – and do you know why?"

She closed her eyes, curling up with her knees to her chest. She did know the answer, though the magnitude was beyond what she could understand. "He didn't save you both."

"And there was no way he could've!" he practically exploded. "My mom divorced him while he was in prison; he didn't even get any say in it, he just got served the papers then didn't get any news from us until he was released, years later. She never even told him she was pregnant. He got out of an Alliance hellhole and pulled every trick in the book to hunt me down, and when he finally caught up, he found out she wasn't his vindictive ex he was determined to talk around, she was dead, and he had a three-year-old who thought putting guns together was a game!"

Her stomach lurched, and she curled up tighter, trying to imagine… then wishing she couldn't. She had known enough of Jake's past before now to realize his childhood had viciously dark undertones, but she hadn't tried to guess at the details.

"Fuck, Odin even put his own name down on the kid's birth certificate, so the only claim Jack could make was genetics. And he wouldn't use any of the ethical arguments he could have tried to make about how Odin wasn't a suitable parent because any evidence would have accused me of murder."

Dorothy swallowed. Jake would have only been… six, maybe seven years old?

"And that's presuming an ex-con could even get that to hold water in the first place when my uncle was damn good at covering his tracks. He just…" Jake let out a weak, broken laugh. "He did the best he could in a really awful situation, and I've hated him for it for fourteen years. I've directed all this shit at him because the man who raised me killed himself out of guilt before I was old enough to understand."

If she wasn't already trying so hard to not cry, she thought she might retch. She didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up, but it cramped like she was about to try anyway.

"Then with Junior gone… It's never stopped being so raw that I can stand to think about it long enough to make any peace with it. I have issues, and because I've refused to even try to work through them, I've continually made my father's life hell out of misplaced spite. I can't… I can't let myself be that person anymore. I can't.

"I don't know how to fix it yet, but Relena… I can't afford to lie to myself any more. Not about Relena, not about my family… I already have to rebuild myself, so I'm going to do it right this time. No lies to Lena, and none to me. After that… I'll just have to figure it out as I go." His voice hitched and he forced another laugh. "Fuck… Sorry for the melodrama. Are you okay?"

Dorothy wiped at her eyes and sat up, trying not to sniff. "Are you?"

He scoffed at her, but the sound was wet. "Haven't you been listening? Of course I'm not. Also? Lame attempt at a misdirect." There was another damp noise, then his voice came back on, clearer this time. "Come on, you can do better than that."

"I'm not in the mood," she returned shortly before muting the phone to breathe deep, wiping her cheeks clean again; hopefully she didn't sound nearly as congested as she felt.

Jake groaned. "Damn." There was an uneasy silence for a long moment before he changed the subject. "Do I at least get to know where we're going? I just got a text from a seamstress saying she wants me in her workshop in forty minutes, by the way, and I maybe hate you right now."

She allowed herself one last shudder before turning off the mute. "Zurich." She closed her eyes. "And before you argue, we've already worked out the details with Lincoln and Mai." It would involve a Marsden, Mai, and Vaughn going ahead with her and some blatant subterfuge with Daniella, but the Fonnes had already agreed and Leia had been thrilled to play a part in the act as well. They had all explored the possible avenues this could take if something went poorly, and in the unlikely event that they were discovered measures were already prepared that would guarantee the publicity would only help the Princess's image.

He huffed. "Zurich. Damn." There was some rustling on the other end of the line as he presumably got ready to leave. "Dates?"

She smirked. "Relena, of course. And maybe Vaughn, for me."

He snorted. "Good luck with that. Seriously though, when?"

"Stop overthinking it," she admonished.

He grumbled at her. "My… Jack lives in Baden."

"O…kay?" What did that have to do with anything?

He made an irrigated noise. "Swiss Baden, not German. It's, like, thirty minutes from downtown Zurich."

Oh. Then she really thought about it, with everything he'd poured out, and… Oh. "Ella will be coming to meet us on the thirty-first; Lin said it worked best to pick up Relena's itinerary from there."

"Thanks," he told her, voice tight. "That's… that'll work out great."

She bit her lip, feeling remarkably awkward. "You're welcome."

"For everything," he added, sounding a little more relaxed. "I…" He gusted out another sigh, and his next words sounded exhausted. "I needed that. Thank-you."

Something warm curled up in her chest, and she smiled, laying back down. "That's what friends are for."

"You sound better too."

"Well, you cheered back up," she pointed out wryly.

"No, I mean… The last time we went out, before you befriended Olivia. You were… dark. You wouldn't tell me what was bothering you, but… It's better?"

Before you attacked David. Before we started working behind your back to pull apart your lies. July felt like another lifetime. The last time you asked me to keep a secret.

She had refused to tell him before, and she still felt like it was the right decision. I won't tell him now either – not until I'm sure. Not until there's no way to turn back. She didn't think he would try to change her mind, but if he did? The man had a silver tongue.

She couldn't give him the opportunity to talk her down from this path. Too much was at stake… and she didn't think she had ever wanted something so badly either.

"Yes," she told him. "It's not fixed yet, but… it's better." It would still be some months before she knew if she had succeeded, after all.

"You still don't want my help?" His tone was… not quite depressed, but reserved. Tentative, as though he were unsure if she appreciated the offer.

But she did. She was relying on it, in truth. "Not just yet. I have it in hand for now."

"Will you tell me, someday?"

He still sounded hesitant, but hopeful too, and she felt bad; she had never intended to make him feel as though she didn't trust him, but that was how it must look. "Absolutely." She wasn't sure she could have gathered the courage to go through with it if she hadn't had his support to fall back on.

He might be terribly chagrined when he looked back on this conversation later. He might even lecture her. But he would never turn her away.

"Alright. I need to get in the car."

"I'll talk to you later," she reassured him before ending the call. Dropping her phone on the table next to her, she stretched, debating what else she had to get done before next week. Not much, truth told, which was something of a surprise, considering how much time she had taken for herself this month; she probably needed to ask Relena to increase her workload. The princess was drowning between all her self-assigned duties under RLTT and the monstrous weight she now carried as the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Dorothy and Olivia had been running interference for that since the start of their alliance, and she found the other woman was a tremendous help in gaining the ground they needed to craft Relena's future court, but if she had this much downtime right now… Olivia is coddling me.

She appreciated the thought, but if it had gotten to the point where she noticed, it was time to pick up the slack, before the other woman began to buckle under the pressure. Wrinkling her nose, she picked her phone back up and tapped out a text to her friend pointing it out… and sighed.

Work ethic aside, a nap sounded heavenly right now.

Setting her phone on her stomach, she settled more comfortably against her pillow and closed her eyes, listening to her boys move about the house. She didn't think they were all in at the moment, but she could hear Alexis talking to someone, and Nan rarely remembered the outdoors existed, much less visited. If she strained her ears, she thought she could hear BJ pacing his office in measured strides, probably thinking deeply – perhaps analyzing the O'Bremski campaign that had included subtly pointing out the advantages of an automated attack force. It didn't feel like anything more dangerous than a testing of the waters to her, but she didn't have the resources or position to poke at the coals of that fire.

And it was the sort of thing that pricked the ears of her boys.

It was adorable how they believed she hadn't noticed Mitchell had staffed her house with a fledgling intelligence organization. She wondered how long she could continue to get away with leaving hints of situations she needed leverage against about the house where the boys would conveniently find them. They had been very careful so far about exactly how information came back to her, but she had gone about it deliberately, setting a pattern, after the second time. They would pick up on the game eventually – the only question was when.

She was somewhat concerned that she might spook them if she approached directly, though. However the colonel had found them, it couldn't have been by legitimate means. Most likely they were the remnants of a splinter cell of an anti-Alliance paramilitary group – which, given her family, meant they were likely wary of her. At the same time, however, they had moved into her house, looked after her needs, and helped her politically whether she asked outright or not. And she trusted Mitchell to not integrate any who might be a danger to her – at least, not without adequate warning.

Therefore, eventually they would become comfortable enough with her to approach. In the meantime, Lindsay was an excellent cook, Nan was an older, more absent-minded version of Hayden, Alexis was sweet, and Tristan and B.J. handled everything with a casual competence that reminded her strongly of Jake – those two must have had prior training, though by who was anyone's guess. Offering sanctuary and bankrolling their activities would give her more credit down the line, so she had no compunctions about waiting until they caught her out.

It was soothing to hear others going about their business in a safe place… It reminded her of home. Before her father had died; when everyone still had better things to do than bother her.

She could relax for now. If someone needed her, they would call.

oOo


oOo

October 24th 198 – Thursday –Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

"He's not here right now," the breathtakingly beautiful blonde informed him with a customer service sort of smile. "Can I pass a message?"

Adam smiled charmingly in return, despite how irritating this was getting. "I tried that already." He'd been under the impression that the entire point of Odin giving everyone phones was so they could avoid spending three days traipsing around an unfamiliar city trying to find someone, but either Duo was ignoring his or didn't have it on him.

If he'd had any idea it would be this hard to track down the other man, he might not have bothered; but at this point, he was too damn frustrated to back down.

The woman pursed her lips in a sympathetic way that sent his thoughts skittering in spite of himself, and he clenched his jaw for a moment in irritation; she was entirely too distracting. "Who did you talk to?" she asked curiously.

"His phone."

She frowned at him like he was trying to play a trick on her. "Kasey doesn't have a phone."

Fine, maybe it was time to name drop; it wasn't like he was getting anywhere on the subtler route. "He said to give me his number when we talked on Odin's phone a few weeks ago." He raised a brow. "He should have gotten one around the same time I did."

Her perfect mouth opened in a little 'o' of surprise. "Oh, Amos takes it, to talk to Marlé. He won't have it right now." She smiled apologetically – and far more genuinely than earlier – as she offered a hand. "Sorry. I am Karina von Koll."

Von Koll. Great. Of course Duo had managed to marry a woman that made it hard to keep his eyes inside his own head. Hopefully he could keep himself in check enough to not let this get awkward. And eventually he'd just get used to her.

Hopefully. He might just have to bank on them forgiving him if he made an ass of himself . He'd thought perfectly petite little blondes like her were Hollywood magic – not real and married to your friends. Cathy was going to scoff at him for exaggerating if she ever got done cooing over him noticing someone in the first place, but he might get some vengeance when she realized he wasn't full of shit and started howling about the unfairness of it.

Small mercies. He needed to get through this meeting without swallowing his tongue first.

He took her hand. "Adam Bloom. Do you know where he is?"

"Eh… no? He…" Her eyes flicked up in concentration and she started to mutter in a mix of both English and Dutch. "What the word? No, that's… Fucking grammar, how do you-"

"Not your first language?" he offered in Dutch, unable to resist a smile.

She laughed delightedly, her eyes lighting up, and it took his breath away even as irritation buzzed through him again and he tried to wave the feeling away. Stop that. "Hell no! Oh, but I'm so glad not all his old friends insist on English!" She screwed her face up in annoyance. "Still, it's complicated. He was supposed to be back by now."

The door behind him chimed as someone opened it, and he turned to find a woman with long, curly brown hair and blue eyes come in, carrying a small child on one hip. She smiled at him, but held the door open behind her to call after someone. "Stop dragging your feet; get back inside." Facing him again, she smiled. "Good morning." The baby started squirming as soon as she saw Karina, but the brunette just hitched her higher on one hip as she let the door fall shut and moved to the counter. "Can I get you some coffee?" she asked in English. "I'm going to need a cup before I can get anything useful done."

Karina tsked at the other woman and made a reaching gesture, which made the brunette roll her eyes, but she stood the baby up on the counter and held out her hands for the blonde to take before she moved for the tiny kitchen in the corner.

"Good morning, baby girl!" Karina cooed, still in Dutch. She waited until the child made a happy noise back and started to topple into her before scooping her up and focusing on the newcomer. "Have you heard anything else?"

"Not yet," the other woman returned in a grim tone before smiling over at Adam again and holding up a mug questioningly. It looked like this was going to take a while, so he flashed her a quick smile and nod before looking at how possessively the little girl was latching onto Karina, jamming the end of the woman's ponytail in her mouth.

Their hair almost exactly the same shade of blonde.

That… was her baby, wasn't it?

"So," the other woman continued cheerfully as she turned away from the coffee machine. "Welcome to New Renew – sorry we're running a little bit behind schedule today, but what can I do for you?"

Shouldn't Hilde have said something about Duo having a baby? She'd mentioned his wedding and that his wife was cool, but nothing about a baby… though it still seemed pretty young? He could see Odin not giving much thought to a pretty wife based on what he remembered about Heero, but skipping over the guy having a kid?

"'Liss, this is one of Kay's old friends," Karina explained eagerly. "Through Odin." She bit her lip, glancing at him briefly before adding, "Maybe he can help."

"Oh?" Her smile stayed warm, but more than a little steel entered her eyes, and something in her stance shifted in a way that he couldn't explain but set his hair standing on end. "Do tell." Her smile widened, but it was almost a parody of Duo's when he'd just killed something, and not inviting. "I don't know your face."

He eyed her for a moment, trying to decide exactly why she was making his skin crawl. "It's been a while." Pushing aside his instinct for the moment, he held out his hand. He'd already come this far, after all. "Adam Bloom."

"Mm." She ignored his hand and studied his face, and he had the alarming idea that she might be able to describe him precisely enough for a sketch artist later. "Kasey's not here. Have you seen anyone recently that I'd trust who could vouch for you?"

He quickly ran through possible options, and resisted the urge to grimace. "Hilde."

She considered that for a moment before nodding. "Call her."

"She's… not very happy with me right now," he stalled. Well, she probably wasn't. She hadn't tried texting him yet, and that seemed out of character.

Her shoulders shifted as her eyes slid partway closed in an almost lazy way that set off yet more alarm bells in his hindbrain. "Mm, I don't care," she decided after a moment. "Does Odin know enough about you that he could clear you over the phone?"

"Yes." Odin likely knew far more about him than he did; Adam hadn't even known he spoke Dutch until he'd entered the Netherlands two days ago.

She eyed him for another long moment before nodding again. "It'll do." She gestured at him. "Call him. Speakerphone."

"He said he's been messaging, but no one answered," Karina pointed out in an almost sullen tone… standing with the baby at the top of the stairs. He hadn't heard her slip away.

"I don't have proof of that, and you just let a stranger know we're vulnerable enough to consider outside help," the other woman grit out. "You should've taken Renee out the garage and caught up to Nolan instead of trapping yourself up there."

"You're being paranoid!"

"He's missing, Rina! I don't know enough of what he was planning to track him and he's missed his deadline by almost two days! That's not like him!"

"Cześć," Odin muttered through the phone line. "Adam?"

"Odin, it's Melissa," the more hostile of the two women called across the counter. "I need you to tell me if this guy is safe."

There was only the briefest hesitation before, "Where's your husband?"

"Kinda part of the problem," she informed him tersely, never taking her eyes off Adam.

The man let out a sound that was either an upset sort of grunt or a curse in a language Adam didn't recognize. "Ah… How does Cathy make coffee?"

Fuck, I used to live with this guy? Maybe he should have known that, but his sister didn't like to talk about before the amnesia, and it wasn't like they'd had much time to catch up on Peacemillion. Still, the idea was daunting. "'Black as night and sweet as sin,'" he recited, going so far as to faintly mimic her drawl.

"Too generic," Melissa negated, eyes still locked on him… though he couldn't see one of her hands, he realized. Not a good sign.

"I'm not done," Odin groused impatiently. "Where was the last place you saw Hilde?"

How does he know that? "Ieper."

"Who did you save Xu from?"

Last year? "Treize."

"More specific, please."

Specific? Well, Xu had said something about Heero tracking them too, so maybe he knew enough detail… What had been the guy's name? "Ivan?"

"Is that a question?" He sounded amused, the dick.

"I know where he lives, not his last name!" Adam protested, mostly sure he'd gotten it right. Names were stupid; they could mean anything, and that was even before you got into duplicates.

"I don't, though." He hummed. "A moment, 'Liss, I'm thinking."

"Why not something from before?" she demanded pointedly.

"We… blew him up at one point," Odin admitted.

Adam closed his eyes as Melissa narrowed hers, tone turning flat. "What."

"I don't want to ask something I'm not sure he remembers, if you're about to shoot him," the other man protested.

"How do you know about the last time Hilde saw me?" he cut in.

"I was with her CO when she called it in," he explained. "Leaving her without an exit when you're the one who got her there was a dick move."

"She was fine!"

"Doesn't make it not a dick move."

"You're a dick!" he argued, temper flaring. "She wanted to try and disarm it – she's fucking crazy!"

"Well, that's new." He sounded amused again.

"What?" he demanded.

"Don't worry about it."

"I barely remember being Trowa," he snarled. "Most of the time I don't care, but explosions? Fuck that! I'm not doing that again, that…" He floundered for a way to explain, and a phrase came to mind; maybe a memory, but probably something he'd just thought before. "Death hurts like hell, and I'm not doing it again!"

Startled but deep, genuine laughter bubbled through the phone line as if he'd said something hilarious. Adam scowled, trying to figure it out as Melissa eyed him questioningly, apparently just as lost. He rolled his eyes, and she smirked seemingly in spite of herself, rolling her own and relaxing slightly, if only by a hair. "Odin?" she asked skeptically once he got himself under control.

"It's him," he reassured her, laughter still lighting up his voice. "You can trust him, and I'll be there soon; I found a direct flight. Is there a reason Duo left his phone at your house? I could have tracked him through that."

Melissa relaxed the rest of the way, and Karina started back down the stairs behind them. "It's too flashy," she explained tiredly.

Odin tsked. "You should have said something. Get the one from the house or stay with Adam. I'll be there inside three hours." The line disconnected.

Melissa closed her eyes and raked a hand through her hair, slouching, before shooting him an apologetic look. "Sorry. But you all… I know exactly how capable Duo is, and if I have to face someone on his level, I need to get the drop on you first." Coming back up to her full height, she held out her own hand this time. "Melissa von Koll."

Adam blinked, glancing back over his shoulder at Karina. "Von Koll?" And Odin had asked her where her husband was.

He… had been mostly sure that wasn't legal.

The brunette smirked at him. "Melissa Maxwell, if you must. You've already met Rina; the little one is Renee."

They were both wearing what could pass for wedding rings – Karina's a diamond, and Melissa's a series of amethysts. "Ah." He focused on the baby again, who was fussing with her mother's necklace now. "Hilde didn't mention her."

"Hilde only stayed about an hour, the last time she came by," Melissa explained dismissively. "I'm not sure she even remembered that Rina had been pregnant."

"I was at work when she came through," the blonde added wistfully. "I didn't get to see her at all."

…Okay then. Maybe it was best to just not ask. "When was the last time anyone saw Duo?" He'd come here for advice, but he could swing a rescue if something had gone sideways.

oOo


oOo

Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

"…Relena?" The speaker sounded distinctly confused.

Addie smiled as she resettled the lid on the crock pot, raising a brow at the man in her kitchen. A captain, by his uniform… but she didn't recognize him. "Afraid not. Can I help you?"

He relaxed a little. "Sorry, I just…" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry. Do you know where Jake is?"

"You're hardly the first, and you won't be the last," Addie dismissed, brushing off her hands on her apron. Her resemblance to the princess might have been considered remarkable were it not for Daniella; enough to be noticed, but not to actually mistake her once you saw her face on. "And no, not at the moment. Who let you in?" The boys all took security very seriously, and the kitchen was a ways into the house, let alone the compound – but it was against protocol for strangers to ever be left unattended on the grounds.

Either something had gone very wrong and she needed to act like nothing was amiss until she could get away from him and sound the alarm, or she had missed an introduction.

"I ran into Sasha on his way back in," he explained. "He said to just wait in the entry while he ran something up to John before he passed out, but I think he got distracted. Or fell asleep." He rolled his eyes. "He doesn't normally stay up this late, or at least he didn't use to." Shrugging, he added. "I started looking around, and I could hear someone in here."

Mm… plausible, at least. "What's John short for?"

He blinked. "Giovanni." He frowned, then let out a long breath. "Oh." Moving slowly, he held his hands up and slightly away from his body. "Sorry… Where do you want me until you get someone down here?"

She smiled apologetically. He'd answered right, but still – she didn't know him. "Over there is fine. Bag on the floor, please, if you would."

He nodded amicably, using the thumb of one hand, other fingers still carefully spread, to pull his messenger bag off his shoulder. "Fair enough. I'm not supposed to let it out of my sight, though."

"That should be okay," she decided, reaching into her pocket for her phone without looking away from him. "I'd appreciate it if you could toss it a couple feet ahead of you."

"Can do. Sorry about all this."

"If you're telling the truth, it was Sergeant Sorrenti who dropped the ball," she pointed out. "And then Hayden, for not catching it afterwards." Holding her phone close to eye level and away from her, she snapped a picture of him and hit the button for a lower level alarm on her home screen. "Thanks for being so considerate, though. Your name, Captain?"

"I should've known better," he argued. "Cassidy Foreman."

She recognized that as familiar, but couldn't remember the context. "I'm Addie Fonne. You haven't been here before, have you?"

He shook his head. "The last time I saw everyone, they were still renovating the place." He looked around the very purple kitchen. "It's nice; big step up from Brussels."

"He's clear!" Lin called out as he clattered down the pantry stairs. "Not sure how he got in, but he's one of ours."

"I'm guessing Dave was lying when he said you were expecting me today?" Cassidy called back in a dry tone.

"Let's be nice and pretend he's forgetful instead of trying to pull Jake's tail," Lin returned, tumbling out the door with a grin and practically throwing himself at the other man. "Man, it's good to see you! How's being a badass been?"

Cassidy snorted as he returned the hug. "Exhausting. It feels like it's been years, not six months. It's shit that needs doing, but once I realized Jake was serious about wanting me to come back, there was no way I was turning him down. I like Dave, but I missed you guys."

"That's because we're awesome, and Dave's a creep," Lin returned happily as he pulled away. "You're here to stay, then?"

"That was the idea," the other man agreed. He hesitated. "Though, if the colonels still aren't talking-"

Lin waved a hand dismissively. "He wouldn't have offered if he didn't mean it; worst case scenario, he just doesn't know you accepted. And knowing them, Dave probably just didn't give him a timeframe." He grinned raucously. "Or Jake just got too distracted courting Lena to bother telling us."

Cassidy barked out a laugh that was pure joy. "Finally! Thank God!"

"Right?" He looked around and spotted the bag, still partway between them and Addie, and reached for it. "Where's the rest of your stuff?"

The captain hissed and dove for his satchel before Lin could take more than a single step, sweeping it up and back onto his shoulder in one smooth motion as Addie skittered around the other side of the island, heart racing. "Hayden!" she screeched.

The pantry door – and presumably most others throughout the house – slammed shut with a distinct thunk.

Cassidy was blushing deeply as he stood again and brought his hands back up. "Shit, I swear, I'm the goddamn king of bad impressions today! I'm sorry."

"Kinda weird, friend, not gonna lie," Lin pointed out, crossing his arms in an annoyed way… but also in a clearly not aggressive stance.

The captain closed his eyes. "You know how Dave does that thing where he says something ridiculous and you can't tell if he's fucking with you or dead serious?"

Marsden ducked into the room in a low crouch at an angle that would keep him in a blind spot from most of the kitchen, gun out, brown eyes hard. In a moment, he was under the breakfast bar beside her, signing to ask for injuries, so she shook her head, clutching at the counter to try to stop her shaking. He tugged at her skirt in a not so subtle request for her to get down, but Lin was only exasperated… and Captain Foreman looked as though he'd like nothing more than to crawl under the stove and die.

The fact that he was standing with his back to Lin, legs apart and hands held high, eyes shut and red as a tomato? She was starting to feel embarrassed for freaking out. Not enough to tell him to put down his hands, but enough that ducking for cover would probably make her feel like a horrible person.

"Yeah?"

Mars tugged at her skirt again – harder this time like he thought maybe she hadn't felt him before – and she kicked at him. Not enough to hurt if it connected; just to make it clear she was refusing.

Cassidy still hadn't opened his eyes. "He told me if I let anyone touch this before Jake, I'd be court marshaled."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm totally fucking serious! I've got this massive packet of files stamped with 'Eyes Only' in here that he made me box and wrap up like it was a birthday present while he watched, and he said if I lost sight of this bag or let anyone else touch it, a court martial would be the least of my worries! I have no idea if he's just pranking me, but with some of the shit I've seen over the past six months? Nobody touches the damn bag before Jake."

"…Foreman?" Mars called tentatively from under the counter.

"Yeah?"

The lieutenant huffed out a sigh as he stood, considering the other man for a moment before holstering his weapon. "Apologize."

Addie blushed so hot her face went numb. "He did! He already did, I just…". She grimaced and offered the captain a weak smile. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No need for that."

"I overreacted," she protested, feeling even worse. Hayden probably locked down the entire house. Everyone was going to know she flipped out.

"Actually," Lin announced, stepping around Cassidy and swatting at one of his arms so he'd put it down, "You gave him a lot more leeway than you should have."

"He's your friend," she argued, starting to shake. Damn, but she hated adrenaline.

"He also would've gotten over you giving him a vacant sort of greeting before you walked out the door and put the base on lockdown." He reached out and grabbed her hands, holding them in his for a long moment while she fought to get her tremors under control. Then, glancing back at the heavy door over the pantry, he grinned conspiratorially. "Actually, he's still going to have to get over that last."

"Already over it," Cassidy dismissed, slumping against the counter in a tired way. "Done and done."

"The next time someone comes in that you don't know, follow the protocol more strictly," Marsden admonished in his molasses drawl, folding his arms on the bar and leaning on them. "A false alarm means we have a chance to drill. Statistically speaking, someone who means harm will eventually break in, and a fast response is worth weekly false alarms." He whistled sharply to make sure Hayden was paying attention to their room in particular – though Addie couldn't imagine he might be doing anything else – before loudly pointing out, "You are listening, aren't you?"

There was an almost grudging hesitation before the blast doors slid back to… wherever they had come from. Because that had not been the pantry door – though the normal one was shut now too.

Lin grinned again, looking the same way she had. "I almost don't want to ask if that was a Jake addition or part of the original design."

Addie choked out a laugh. "With this house?" It really could be either.

Closing her eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, she struggled to re-center herself. She appreciated that Lincoln was willing to cater to her, but it was Marsden's words that made her actually feel better, let her resettle her mind and stop being embarrassed No harm, no foul. No amount of study or training could replace real experience, right?.

Stepping around Lin, she offered the newcomer a genuine smile. "It's nice to meet you, Cassidy. Sorry about all the hullabaloo."

His returning smile was a touch chagrined, but happy enough. "Don't worry about it; I kinda had it coming. I know better, but I got into bad habits with Mitchell."

"Whoo, reality check," Lin agreed in a deadpan, starting back for the pantry door before stopping with a frown as something occurred to him.

Cassidy frowned too. "What?" When Lin jerked his chin in the direction of Hayden's office, the blonde turned to look… and the lieutenant slapped the shoulder strap of the messenger bag.

Captain Foreman took a swipe at him without turning back, and Lin cackled as he dodged and darted for the pantry. Throwing the door open, he stopped and grinned broadly when he found Jake standing there with a tablet in hand. "Colonel."

Jake smirked and gestured for him to wait before moving into the kitchen and focusing on Addie, passing the screen over; it showed a live feed of the kitchen. "Are you in the middle of anything?"

"Nothing with time constraints." She had only come in to stir what she had simmering for the evening meal, and that was done with. There were a handful of chores she had left for the afternoon, but it wasn't anything she couldn't move around. Dorothy was God only knew where with her baby again, but had promised to have him back to her by six, so she had time.

She was probably designing some sort of fancy to do over him turning two this weekend. Personally, she didn't see the point of a party – he was far too young to remember, and she had just planned for her and Danny to take the evening off to focus on his favorite foods and games – but there wasn't any harm in it either. If it made the aristocrat happy, that was just fine. Dorothy was a good friend, and periodically a downright godsend. So few people in her life had ever actually listened when she told them something, and the younger woman was always genuine with her, if erratic. In any case, Willam adored her, and it had taken very little time for her to become quite proficient at looking after him. After Daniella, Dorothy was her second choice for a babysitter now.

"Relena wants everyone to come upstairs in half an hour," Jake explained. "We've got some big stuff to go over. The night shift needs to be woken up and if anyone's out in town, we need them called back. If they can't wrap something that quickly, let me know before we poke at John and Sasha, in case we have to delay."

"But wake up Rome either way?" she clarified.

He nodded. "He should know what this is about already, but he won't want to miss it; he can have tonight off if he needs it." Then he grimaced. "And find something for Krititz to keep busy with, preferably on the grounds instead of the house. He's not part of this."

Well, she hadn't been looking forward to dealing with the chickens, and he could handle the weekly maintenance on her vegetable patch, she supposed. "You're never going to get anywhere with him if you keep ostracizing him," she warned.

"I'm really hoping my late birthday present from Dave includes his transfer papers, actually," he muttered in a distracted way as he turned back to Cassidy. "I'm ready to wash my hands of him." He held out one hand. "Gimmie." Looking relieved, Cassidy did just that, though he frowned when he didn't shoulder the bag… then groaned when Jake reached the door and pointedly handed it to Lincoln. Grinning a little, he asked, "Did you want to come with me and see Lena before everyone else comes in, or follow Addie and get the lay of the land?"

Cassidy frowned, beginning to look suspicious. "Is there a reason I should see her while she's getting ready for something?"

Her old friend tipped his head to one side, evidently needing to mull that over for a moment. "I suppose that depends on your opinion of Zechs."

Cassidy narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Hence the meeting."

"No, that's my opinion, why," the other man argued, voice lowering and a sneer dropping across his face. "What's the point of the grandstanding? Everyone's just too afraid of how he might retaliate to do something about him." Scowling, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. "If I thought it would've helped a single damn thing, I would have resigned after the Fall, but fighting against him directly would only be one more way to lose. I just made sure to stay under commanders who I knew would do the right thing for the fucking future, not an agenda."

Ooh. She liked this one. First impressions aside, he was forward, blunt, and dictated his life by conviction; the type of person who didn't take shit, and once he was your friend, it was for life. No wonder Jake picked him. All of the people he surrounded himself with had those same qualities in one way or another… and it made her feel safer than she had since before her parents died.

"Yeah, go with Addie, we're still on the same page," Jake dismissed warmly, his eyes smug. "Pick out a room, too; she can tell you which ones aren't occupied." He made a face at his uniform. "I'd forgotten Dave promoted you; it's a good thing I already got Lin's advancement approved, or you'd outrank him."

"Wait, really?" Lin looked startled.

"You're not delusional enough to think you handle the same workload as the other lieutenants," Jake pointed out in a wry tone as he headed towards the stairs. "And I've seen you boss Captain Derusha around."

The darker-haired man snorted as he moved to follow. "I just figured I was your favorite. And Illian technically isn't in my chain of command; my scope is always going to overrule his and he knows it."

"Illian is one of those rare individuals who never loses his sense of scale," Jake agreed. "The complete lack of aggression that kept him out of the infantry makes him ideal in defense. And you are my favorite. Mai doesn't have a finger in even half the pies you control."

"You didn't get any say in her rank; she came ready-made out of the reserves like that."

"She's also ill-suited to long-term command – she's too much of an agent to sit at the top of the food chain, and she knows it." They were getting harder to hear now, reaching the second story. "Hell, I'm almost positive she intentionally came within a hair's breadth of a dishonorable discharge in 192 to avoid advancement."

Addie shook her head and turned back to Cassidy with a smile. "Well, it looks like you're my duckling, for now," she announced brightly. "Let's go check in with Hayden first."

oOo


oOo

Frankfurt, Germany

Oh crap. This… Might be her fault. Technically, it was Duo's and maybe Amos's, but she could have been clearer… Or maybe just not taken so long to finish Amos's phone, instead of going crazy with it then getting distracted with all the stuff with Quatre. She'd assumed Amos was stealing Duo's phone to message her then giving it back, not just keeping it, or she'd have made him hand it over to Odin's old friend and walked him through disabling the fancier security she'd added on because her brother said he was worried about someone else getting their hands on it.

Damn, but she wished Odin had told her what was going on five minutes before he had to turn his phone off for a handful of hours. Or that he'd, like, taken the time to crack the phone himself instead of assuming Duo had just gone off the chart like Melissa said. But he had had a flight to catch… Even if it was to the wrong city, come to find out.

Crap, this is totally my fault.

Marie opened her mail app and set the phone to dictate before flipping back through flight schedules. "To Adam: So, this is embarrassing, and it's a long story, but the phone's in lockdown. Like, the 'don't notice me, I'm normal' kind that has to be broken manually, and Kay doesn't know that no one's been able to see him."

It had seemed so clever before. She squeezed her eyes shut and glowered at the flight schedules that didn't match what she needed… and decided to try something else she'd seen Odin do but never tried without him. "I can't open it up from here, but I'm forwarding everything from the past week to you to make sure we don't miss any backlog, and the number for the burner he's been using."

That… would be surprisingly easy, actually. And convenient. And perfect. Now she just had to make it work.

"The short version, though, is that he's in Rotterdam and everything's gravy, but he's trying to get some other people to go there too, so… yeah. Odin's still on his way to you guys, and if you really think you need to ditch him he'll get your messages once he lands, but look everything over first." She bit her lip, looking everything over…

Yeah. Yeah I can totally do this.

"Let me know if you need anything. I might be out of touch for a bit, but I'll respond as fast as I can. Sign: Sorry, Audi." Ending the dictation, she quickly attached the promised files – which she was willing to admit were a bit of a mess at the moment, but time might be important – and looked back at the schedule. It was even one of the higher end jets, so she'd be there in under an hour. She could read the text log herself on the way and if he did need help sooner, she'd be ready to roll.

"Hey, Skye?" she called, thinking a moment before digging for one of the holsters she'd gotten after running around with Hilde and Lucrezia those couple weeks – she always wore a holster under her jeans around her hips, but she finally had big enough boobs hide a little back-up Ruger without printing. It was, like, the only thing getting her period was any good for, she'd decided.

She still hadn't ever had to shoot anyone yet, but, well… she was starting to do crazier stuff. And Odin had said she was good enough to be classed as a sharp shooter; she drilled every other day on speed. She knew the kill shots too – Odin had taught her those first – but so long as she had the option? She wasn't going to. Everyone said that was important, and Odin hated how many people he had killed, and… she really didn't want to have to think about that until she had to.

Even her mom had never tried to tell her it was something she'd never have to think about, just… to put it off as long as she could.

"Yeah?" He was staying in the other room, it sounded like, so she tugged her shirt over her head and pulled on the form-fitting tank top with a half open front that was part of the ensemble, then made a face as she realized that to tuck it in, she was going to have to undo her pants and get it under her other holster. Crap. She hadn't tried wearing them both at once before, but the boob one was too irritating to pull out to be a decent primary. All the same, she set about hooking the holster through her bra and checked the chamber and magazine on her smallest gun before settling it in place under the compression tank.

Picking her shirt back up, she asked, "Have you ever snuck into a cargo hold?"

"Uh… that's a no." He came around the corner. "Why- Damn it!" He closed his eyes. "You could've said something!"

"I'm, like, three times as covered as when I put on a swimsuit," Marie pointed out, rolling her eyes as she resettled her t-shirt and looked down, checking to make sure it was loose enough that nothing showed. Cool. "Turn around if you're gonna be a prude, though," she offered as she unbuttoned her jeans and started on the hooks for her other holster. "I've done it before, but with my brother, and not military. You ever sneak in anywhere?" She blinked. "Literally, I mean." The past few days had proven just how much she didn't know yet about corporate espionage, and just how useful social engineering was. Odin had never bothered with more than the basics.

"If I say no, are you going to run off without me?" he asked in a resigned tone, facing away from her.

"Hadn't decided yet," she admitted, setting the belt down on the table with a thunk and shimmying her pants down a little further so she could pull the tunic length fabric of the tank over her underwear – it was made of that stretchy athletic stuff that was so popular, and hopefully it wouldn't get too hot, or bind with the hip belt. The only way to find out was to try, though. "It should be pretty low security, and I can mess with their cameras so we're invisible – it'd just be the people we'd need to avoid, and it looks pretty skeleton crew."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Skye declared, crossing his arms. "Though I feel like I need to ask why."

"I need to get to Rotterdam fast; I messed something up for a friend, so I need to make sure I cover any of the fallout. The next commercial flight won't head out for another four hours." And they were done here; all the paperwork was set up both for the local agencies and the hostel Cat was buying in Skye's name for his fledgling network – otherwise she really would have just walked without letting him know what she was up to.

"Where's your brother?"

"On his way to the wrong city." She scrunched up her nose. "And he was back with Cat when he heard anyway, so he had a lot further to go – we're closer."

"Are you expecting trouble?"

"Mm." She picked her belt back up and slung it back around her hips. "Not really. I probably don't need to go, but it's my fault he doesn't have the back-up he wanted, like, four hours ago. He said he doesn't need it, it's just stacking the deck, but if I can make it, I really should – until the rest of the cavalry makes it from Amsterdam, at least." She took a moment to check the chamber and extra clips for her Daewoo, that her knives were situated right, before zipping her pants back up. "I'm good on my own if you're not sure about it," she pointed out as she buttoned and squirmed to make sure everything sat the way it should, twisting to check how she looked from the back before letting her shirt fall over her waistband. "You can turn around now."

LED gem bracelet, grounding bracelets, cable anklets, extra universal chip still tucked in left boot zipper, sticky bugs in wallet… If she was carrying the Ruger, she should strap the extra clip into her right boot next to her wax pencil… she hadn't needed to jot quick notes for anything she did yet, but Odin had insisted, and it was just something she felt half naked without, now. Her stun baton – still her absolute favorite weapon – was tucked into the sleeve of her jacket as usual, and her little circuit fryers were in the pocket of the same. She yanked the gun bag out of the rest of her duffel for the extra clip and braced her foot on a chair so she could settle it… but she was pretty sure she'd covered all her bases.

"I'll tag along," Skye decided, moving to gather his own stuff. "Might as well. I don't want to get in your business, so you can ditch me once we get there, but this way I'm nearby if you decide you need a hand."

That made sense. "Be ready in five, then," she ordered, starting to scan the room for anything that might have fallen out of a bag. They hadn't really been here long enough to unpack.

oOo


oOo

Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

"Foreman!" Jerome called out as he came into Relena's solar. "Damn, but it's good to see you!"

The younger man gave him a tired but happy smile as he moved over to clasp hands with him and be pulled into a hug. "Back at you, Rome."

Rome smirked. "Was it all you hoped and dreamed?"

Cassidy groaned. "You don't have to rub it in, you know."

He frowned. "I was just teasing." But if he was acting like that, either everyone else had been pushing it, or it had been bad. He'd still been excited to act as Mitchell's second, the last time he'd seen him. "Are you okay?"

His face just… the shutters closed, everything going blank. "I'm fine."

Fuck. "Yeah, do me a favor and cut the bullshit." Glancing around, he decided they still had maybe five or ten minutes before everything got started. "Come on." He tugged the kid after him into the bathroom and down the steps into the Princess's suite. "This is one of the areas where surveillance only comes on if the next apocalypse starts," he explained at Cassidy's bewildered look, shooing him over to Jake's couch and pulling the shoji closed incase anyone else wandered down. "And I know you like your privacy, Kansas, but something's eating you up inside, so out with it."

The kid had an ability to bottle shit up second only to the colonel, and Rome had seen enough of his type that he'd known it the day he met him, before Relena's first tour. He'd been handling the Fall a lot better than a lot of the other Americans who stayed in the military after the Regime takeover, but that hadn't meant he was okay. For the months that Jerome had served as senior day shift officer under Jake, before ceding the position to Lincoln and taking command of the nights, he'd made it a point to pull Cassidy out of his shell often enough that he got to vent his spleen, if nothing else… and he'd been the one who thought the kid might start to doubt himself a little less in a harder-hitting post.

It looked like he might have a reason to regret that, now. All the same, he ignored his stomach trying to turn itself inside out with long practice and watched Foreman expectantly, giving him a familiar anchor to latch onto. He'd deal with his own guilt later – for now, he needed to make sure nothing got a chance to fester.

Cassidy groaned. "It's… complicated, Rome."

"Don't care," he pointed out easily, falling into their old rhythm. "Come on." When the other didn't immediately respond, he kept it up. "You see something you couldn't handle?"

He huffed out an exasperated sigh. "No. I mean, there's some really awful shit out there, but I was mostly ready for that, I'm not a moron." He shook his head. "I actually met a lot of really great people too, like Jovi and Razo. You'd like them if we could get them cleared to visit some-"

"We'll look into it," he cut off, not letting him get distracted. The other man's mouth twitched in annoyance before he could catch himself, so the tangent had been intentional, but really, Cassidy knew better than that. "Just not your speed?" It was a dumb thing to get hung up about but some people did, and inevitably, someone else would make fun of you for it.

"A little? I didn't really like it, but, I mean, I figured I could keep it up for a year or two, that's not…" He stopped and glowered at him.

"So?" Rome raised a brow, entirely unrepentant. Decompressing was an important aspect of anyone's life, but critical in their line of work. "What burned you out?"

"I'm not burned out, okay?" Cassidy half snarled. "I'm just… I'm not sure how much more I can take of that shit, and Jake offered, so I'm here. But I wasn't ready to request a transfer yet, so cool off!" He brought his hands up to cover his face, breathing hard. "I… fuck, it's just… I found out what happened to one of my cousins and it hurts, okay? I'm handling it, and I'm proud of him because they say he died trying to find more people who just wanted out and that he never fell under that sadistic siren song Cambyses spun out, but he still died a good eight months before we got there and…" He dropped down onto the couch. "Christ. You know, I thought closure would help, but I've still got maybe five more relatives that might've made it out of the States and I'm not sure I can handle finding another one. Not like that, at least, not… not for another year or two, maybe, I don't know."

Jerome slowly moved around the coffee table to sit down on Foreman's far side and rested a hand on his shoulder. That… that was rough. "When did you find out?" he asked quietly.

Cassidy was hunched over, elbows on his knees. "Right at the start. The first group we met and made an alliance with, that Razo and Jovi came from? The guy who pulled them all together, Robby, he had a list of names, and Stefan was on it. Nobody knew how he wound up there, but… he and Jovaughn and Nick were pretty close, I guess. Razo says their leader took it a lot harder than he usually seemed to, but none of them really knew why, and now since he's dead too, nobody ever will." He barked out a weak laugh, covering his eyes again. "Just one more drop in the ocean after the Fall, but… yeah." He dropped his hands from dry eyes and turned to meet Jerome's eyes, lips thin. "Are we done?"

"Tch." Jerome pulled him into a fierce hug. "I was worried, jackass."

"You always worry," Cassidy agreed tiredly, hugging him back. "You look like you've been doing okay, though." He pulled away, standing up. "How's your mom? Kelly?"

"Mom's great; she's putting together a Thanksgiving thing together here next month." He smirked. "I've been listening to her dither over recipe variations for months, it's ridiculous."

"Nice!"

"And Kelly's not bad." Sighing, he stood back up and started collapsing the shoji screens. "Not great, but not bad. Relena's talking about setting up an office nearby to handle the lower level bullshit that comes with being Minister of Foreign Affairs so we stop drowning in paperwork on off hours, and I'm trying to talk Kelly into leaving Reconstruction for it. She's risen about as high as she can there, and she's basically Batman for organizational shit." He'd also feel a lot better if she was out of Brussels. Relena's political stance was shifting, and if she was looking to clash with Zechs sooner than later, he'd rather have his little sister somewhere that he could protect her. She probably wouldn't appreciate his need to 'play the hero', as she called it, but he knew she'd like to see him more often too, and he could play that angle if she tried to dig her heels in.

"Is she still seeing… Finley? That chick over in Transportation?"

"Nah, that broke off a while back." He rolled his eyes. "She says she's swearing off women like it's not the third time she's done it. But she gets lonely and I don't think she's really looked twice at a guy since college, no matter what she says."

Cassidy shrugged, looking over Relena's room critically before moving towards the windows. "It'll probably be easier to get her to move, though," he pointed out.

"Maybe." He watched the captain knock on the space grade glass and nod to himself before fiddling with the locking latch and vents. "Come on, I'll bring you back through to poke at everything after the Princess finishes her speech."

"Alright." Cassidy went about making sure he'd put everything back the way it was. "Jake said you already knew what it was about?"

"We had some stuff go down when we were in space last month," Jerome agreed vaguely. "Priorities shifted."

"Cool." He shook his head as they went back into the closet and up the stairs. "This place is a trip."

Jerome laughed. "Man, you don't even know the half of it yet."

"Dave didn't mention much about the grounds; mostly he just gave me warnings about Major Marakesh."

"That's because the woman requires a disclaimer," Jerome noted wryly.

He snickered as they came back up into the bathroom. "Alright. I suppose what I really want to know is: did Jake and Lena finally snap and start making out like losers before or after this mysterious stuff went down in space?"

"Oh no, we're just back to him doing her hair or her laying on the couch with her head in his lap while he leaves pretty things out for her to find. Otherwise he's been meticulously careful about not being alone with her while they're both conscious." He rolled his eyes. "It's about as ass backwards as everything else in their little reverse love drama, but they're happier and there's startlingly little sexual tension, so I'm not complaining." For now, at least. If something didn't get settled by Thanksgiving he would bribe Marakesh into making it happen, dignity be damned.

For the most part, he respected the maturity and thought the young couple put to everything; he'd never had any compunctions about following either of them, despite being ten years Miller's senior. They were just that good at what they did, and he was frankly glad he hadn't been born in a position where he'd have to wade through half the crap they faced. But there were also some points where he really wished they'd just act like teenagers. He hated how okay everyone seemed to think it was to just repress emotions they found inconvenient. It did horrible things to you, and the social shunning the aristocracy promoted just compounded everything.

Cassidy groaned. "I guess it was too much to hope I'd missed that whole stage."

"You ought to know better," Jerome agreed happily as they moved back into the solar, yawning. "You're not all waiting on us, are you?" he called half apologetically.

John tipped his head back so he could see them without moving from where he was comfortably slouched on a couch. "I haven't seen Dorothy yet," he pointed out, yawning as well. "How was the sand, Kansas?"

"Messy," Cassidy returned tiredly, going to sit on the arm of the chair closest to the other man. "I'm ready for a change of pace."

John snorted. "Get ready for paper cuts," he warned. "We've been doing a whole lot less gallivanting about since you left and got shafted with politics instead."

"That's actually one of the issues we need to resolve today," Relena added firmly. "When I first received the office, I didn't trust anything I inherited from Vincent Asbury-"

"For good reason!" Illian interjected.

"And because he was so talented at fulfilling only imperative directives," Relena continued serenely, "I got away with it." She made a face. "If only by the skin of my teeth and at considerable sacrifice from all my staff, so thank-you." She paused for their appreciative murmurs, then, "But frankly, we outgrew our staffing needs inside the first month."

"Amen to that," Olivia agreed tiredly, sprawled in an artfully casual way across another armchair.

"Not to be a downer, or anything," Daniella offered tentatively. "But, well… If the household gets too many more people, we'll start hitting a logistical wall with food and upkeep. I mean, maybe not if Addie and I stopped doing clerical things and just focused there, but…" She bit her lip.

"Well, breakfast isn't so hard most days," Sasha pointed out. Usually, the three of them on nights handled morning food.

"Not yet," Daniella pointed out. "And you only said most days. On the average day without guests, we have fifteen people to feed three times a day, and that was before Dr Barton arrived, and…" She trailed off again, looking uncertain.

"It's a balancing act," Addie continued for her, walking over to rest a hand on her sister's shoulder. "We've made it work so far, but even with everyone else taking meal rotations it's come close to crashing down on our heads a few times." She smiled down at the younger girl before meeting eyes with Jake. "I've been meaning to bring it up with you – even without adding anyone, it's getting a little precarious."

Cassidy, Jerome noticed, was now staring at the fifteen-year-old in bewildered disbelief. Daniella was trying very hard to pretend she didn't notice, but rude was rude, and Rome cuffed the boy in the back of the head as he moved past him to find a seat for himself. He seemed to come back to himself at that and blushed, tipping his head back and staring up at the glass ceiling instead of anywhere in the room. Ella tossed Jerome a bashfully thankful smile, and he waved it off.

Their little Relena clone tended to have that effect on people, and the poor thing still hadn't figured out how to handle it.

Jake's lips tightened, but he nodded in deference to the Fonnes' assessment. "Alright. I'm not sure where to start with that, but I'll start trying."

"Actually…" Mai announced leadingly from where she stood leaning against one of the large tables lining the far wall. "I might have an answer to that. I… happen to know a fabulous caterer with a resume that will impress who has been thinking about moving to Germany?"

And, as usual, the major immediately commanded the attention of the room, though not for the typical reasons. In fact, this was actually alarming, because Rome wasn't sure he had ever heard the woman sound tentative before. Her body language matched it too, which was… genuinely concerning.

Jake only gave her a curious look. "Trustworthy?"

"Utterly," was her immediate response, shoulders relaxing.

"Is this who I think it is?" His lips were starting to twitch, like he was holding in a smile.

The major's expression turned sheepishly happy. "I've been looking for a good way to bring it up? And really, the only thing holding her back was job concerns, so…" She shrugged.

Jake grinned outright before turning back to Addie. "So apparently we're getting a five star chef and caterer of a world-renowned restaurant chain in a month or so."

"Or maybe, like… a week?"

Jake started laughing, turning to incredulous eyes back to Mailin. "When were you going to bring this up, exactly?"

"She doesn't have tickets or anything!" the woman protested, though her grin was devious. "She started packing before telling me she was even looking!"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to complain, so long as security concerns are met," Relena decided with a smile before the colonel could continue heckling the other woman. "Provided we have the budget for it, at least."

Jake tried to give Mai one more warning look – which was entirely ruined by the grin he was failing to hide – before rolling his eyes and turning back to the princess. "No problems there," he assured her. "It's an issue I was aware of, though not how close we were getting to critical."

Relena nodded before turning back to the rest of the room. "To get back on topic…" She waited until she was sure she had everyone's attention before continuing. "My next project is to put together a cabinet for the Foreign Affairs Office, and once that's settled, we should be able to focus a little more again." She smirked at John. "And you lot, at least, will be seeing less of the red tape drudgery." She focused her gaze on Jerome. "I've already reached out to Kelly, among others, and have a tentative acceptance; we'll be taking at least two of the clerks Minister Asbury employed now that our background checks are done, but we still need to find and ratify a location before we can move forward, which brings us back to security and other logistic concerns." Offering Mai a smile, she pointed out, "Having a caterer will help with at least a few of those, but there's still a good deal of ground to cover before we're open for business. So don't start celebrating just yet."

"Are we… not waiting for Dorothy, then?" Vaughn asked curiously.

"She and Dr Barton are almost to the second floor," Hayden called from his seat at a set of monitors against the wall.

"Dorothy is already aware of the politics," Relena dismissed. "She only needs to be here because I'd never hear the end of it if she missed it. Does anyone else have any concerns they were looking for an opportunity to bring up?" She side-eyed Mai for a long moment and smirked at the unrepentant grin she got in return.

After a moment of silence, Mars cleared his throat. "Well, guess that's my cue… Once I got comfortable here, I started paying closer attention to the scouts we pulled from the Regime's general pool, and I've found a few that I think we might want to keep."

Jake perked up at that. "Lefevre?"

"And a few others," Mars agreed. "But Emma's definitely on the list." He bit his lip, eying Jake for another long moment before continuing with, "I don't know the politics enough to know whether we'd want to invite them into Sarracenia, and Sergeant Duchamps, at least, won't want to move, but Yvette mentioned she was being offered a promotion last week and said she was willing to refuse it if there was a chance to become a permanent member of Relena's retinue in the future. I asked her to give me 'til All Saint's Day to sound it out."

Jerome tried to match faces to the names, but his contact with the scouts was fairly minimal, since Relena usually settled in one location before the sun went down… and they had really only been using whoever was local with the requisite training since moving to Germany. Having people of their own sounded like a good idea, though… especially with their new direction.

"Well, that leads rather well into what we need to discuss," Relena decided as she turned to settle into her favorite armchair, curling her feet up under her.

"Once Dorothy and Leia get here," Jake amended as he picked up a thick stack of manila envelopes from the desk near Hayden. "Until then, I wanted to say I'm sorry I put off a few well-deserved promotions." He smirked. "I kinda figured we had enough paperwork." There was a general chuckle in response to that as he started passing them out. "They're mostly just for the old guard. Here, John; you've been acting as Rome's lieutenant for a while now, so this is just a formality, and Sasha, you're now Sergeant Major Sorrenti." He gave him a tolerantly amused look. "Just remember to follow protocol from here on, huh?"

Sasha grimaced and nodded. "Sorry."

Jake shrugged. "I know you wouldn't have done it with someone you weren't perfectly sure of, but still. Not a big deal, but remember the lesson." Hayden practically bounced as he took his folder and flipped it open, eyes going wide. "And sorry that it took me so long to get the details ironed out, but I wanted to be sure we moved this in the long-term direction you wanted," Jake apologized. "You're an integral part of our command structure, but you're not…" Jake pursed his lips. "You're specialized. We need you that way, and you're happy that way, so I'm not going to try to fold you into the typical spots anymore, Warrant Officer Polanski."

After shaking hands with a surprisingly speechless – though still shaking from excitement or some other emotion – Hayden, Jake turned to Vaughn. "You're the only one of the new crew that's seeing a promotion, but you also plan and coordinate our movements with a precision I never expected, and I want you to start working more closely with Mars. So: sergeant becomes sergeant major." He smiled as he handed one to Rome. "Captain Moretti." The colonel's lips twitched as he met Cassidy's eyes. "You already got promoted, so don't make doe eyes at me."

Cassidy just smirked. "Those folders look an awful lot like the ones in your fake birthday present," he pointed out instead. "Did you promote anyone, or is this all Mitchell?"

"Does it count if he forged my signature?" Jake pondered aloud. A few people snorted and he grinned as he walked over to give Lin the last file. "I promoted Sobrie and Polanski, but the rest of it really was overdue." He shrugged. "Honestly, we interact with the rest of the military so little that it's mostly academic."

"Except wages," Jerome pointed out, considering the raise he'd apparently… been earning since the start of August, by the paperwork. He smirked. "Dave didn't even tell you he'd done this until today, did he?"

Jake just laughed, and damn, but it was good to see him so relaxed again, after the past year. "Nope! But in his defense, I'd basically just gone batshit on him for meddling with my collapsing card house of angst." Surprisingly, his body language stayed relaxed, even sheepish as he ducked his head. "Which… I need to explain."

The bathroom door creaked open ever so slowly then, as a toddler peered in, trying to be subtle, then grinning and making happy nonsense sounds when he realized most of the room was smiling at him. Addie smiled and stood, reaching for him, only to have the boy giggle and run in the opposite direction to try hiding behind one of the couches.

"Go get him," Leia encouraged in a stage whisper, smile indulgent as she and Dorothy entered and closed the door again. When Willam only giggled more and ducked further away, she pouted in mock outrage. "Oh, I thought you said you were going to!"

"Uh oh," Daniella announced as she scooped her nephew up off the floor and he collapsed against her chest, giggling harder. "Have they been getting you into trouble, little man?" She made a face at him when he looked up at her, and he tried to copy it, which had her switching to something sillier, and made him collapse into giggles again.

Overall, Willam Fonne was a happy baby; Rome could only think of a bare handful of times he had ever heard him cry. Granted, the soundproofing of the house was excellent, so he might just be missing the tantrums, but he wasn't inclined to complain.

Cradling the back of the baby's head to bring him closer to her chest, Daniella met Jake's eyes curiously. "Should I leave you all be, then?" she asked. Looking them all over, she suggested, "Maybe after getting you something to drink?"

Jake made a face briefly and waved her off. "He's fine, Danny, just take a seat. I…. I'm just trying to find a good starting point."

"Um," Lin announced awkwardly. "Before we dive into that, could you maybe explain this?" He was staring into his file with a mildly bewildered expression.

The colonel chuffed out a laugh, suddenly looking remarkably pleased with himself. "I promoted you."

"Yeah, but- "

"And then Mitchell promoted you too," Jake rode over him happily. "I was wondering what was taking so long to get the approval through, but apparently between the timing, the wording, and Mitchell's blatant but believable perjury? I guess my reputation unnerved someone enough that they just bulled through the red tape for me. I'm not sure I've ever had notoriety be so useful on accident before, but it's awesome."

Lin's expression was disbelieving now. "You're serious."

"I would've done it soon enough anyhow," Jake agreed, grin broadening. "Congratulations, Major."

Wow. And now, since technically Lin had assignment seniority, he outranked Mai. He was actually second to only Jake. Which led to another realization. "How long do we have before you resign?"

In retrospect, he should have realized that that question would hit like a landslide.

The man gave him an arch look as he completely ignored everyone's reactions and spoke firmly over a few shocked demands. "Officially? Whenever it's politically advantageous. In practice, it happened in August and everything since has been an exercise in keeping my hands busy."

Addie crossed her arms. "And then just what are you going to do?" she demanded.

Jake rolled his eyes. "Whatever needs doing?" His lips twitched in an aborted smirk. "I'm still not cleaning the damn chicken coop, before you go getting ideas."

Lin sagged in relief. "Oh, thank God."

"None of you seriously thought I was trying to bail," Jake insisted. "That would be stupid."

"I actually didn't," Jerome hurried to put in. He was just going to have to blame his wording on sleep deprivation; this was normally the middle of the night for him.

"You do have a martyr complex," Dorothy offered in a conversational tone.

Jake sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "Okay… I deserved that."

"See?"

"If we could all agree," Relena cut in pointedly, "that my boyfriend is only trying to staunch scandal, can we get back to the subject at hand?"

"It does look bad if you sleep with your boss," Mai agreed with a nod.

"Political agenda," the colonel announced loudly. "Discussion. We're having it."

Everyone hushed, letting silence fall… And it stayed.

Lin groaned, collapsing in on himself a little. "We're bad at this."

Relena sighed and raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "I'm not sure where to start."

"I'm only here for the entertainment value," Dorothy offered haughtily.

"Good. I'm not sure I'm above a gag if you tried your version," Lincoln groused tiredly.

"I know," the noblewoman agreed simply, leaning back.

"Um… the beginning, maybe?" Hayden offered tentatively.

"I'm starting to think that goes back to the '70s," Vaughn argued in with a resigned tone.

"It… maybe does."

Jerome looked up in surprise at Mu, who had so far been doing an admirable job of fading into the cabinetry. She was usually on the quiet end, of course, but considering everything… Well, he'd been a little surprised to see her here at all.

Maybe this was the colonel's fucked up idea of an exit interview?

"You know what, fine." Jake threw up his hands. "I think I was about six the first time I met Treize. I never got a straight answer out of my uncle about why we were visiting Duchess Khushrenada, but I can make a few guesses, and I'm not going into it for liability reasons, but… I must have done something that caught Treize's attention, because later he was the first person outside my family I ever sought out. Looking back, I know that the three of us were a pile of paradoxes wrapped up in an efficient skill set that he couldn't ignore if he wanted to, but at the time? He was that less irritating than usual older kid I saw or messaged with sometimes." He grimaced, covering his eyes with one hand. "That's not really… Fuck it, I don't know, it doesn't really matter anyway. When I ran out of ways to terrorize Jack into abandoning me in 184, I asked him for advice and it wasn't long before I was being charged with something damning enough that I'd have been locked up if Amarianna Khushrenada hadn't descended like an angel with a loophole to put me in military school under her sponsorship instead. By the time my old man figured out he'd been swindled, the papers were already signed and I'd scampered off to Luxembourg, who refused him a visa because he was a terrorist."

"Jack was a terrorist?" Cassidy sounded incredulous.

Jake waved a hand again dismissively. "Jack served with at least two separate L1 militias attempting to consolidate colonial independence," he corrected. "It had literally nothing to do with terrorism, but it's less embarrassing to fall victim to a terrorist than a privateer, so that's what the Alliance labeled him. Anyway-"

"I'm sorry, but did you just say your dad used to be a space pirate?" Vaughn demanded.

"I'm really not in the mood to talk about my family's trend of career choices," Jake announced sourly. "I'm trying to actually get somewhere with this."

"So you got Khushrenada sponsorship into the Specials in 184?" Jerome tried to clarify, moving the subject along.

"Early 185."

"You… would have only been… nine," Olivia pointed out, eyes narrowing.

"Efficient skill set." He pointed at her warningly when her mouth opened again. "Questionable familial lifestyles, not going into it. Jack had to sit on it and stew while I ran off to Lake Victoria and went about building a life with the people he'd dedicated his life to fighting. Treize and I were pretty close by the time term started, and then I met David, and Lu, and we were all part of a happy little dysfunctional war school sitcom with live rounds until my uncle got himself killed in 188 and I went off the rails. Treize falsified my bereavement leave so I wouldn't get court-martialed and sent Dave off after me – more to cover the tracks of any havoc I managed to wreak than anything else.

"When I gave up the ghost in 189, I at least brought back evidence of colonial operations that would eventually lead to Operation Meteor as a consolation prize, and was brought back into the fold like I'd never left. He started sending me on more and more diplomatic missions that boiled down to espionage mixed with surgical strikes after that, and when things got darker in 191, I officially retired from the Specials so it was easier to be where I was needed without arranging accountability for General Catalonia."

"I met you in 191," Addie pointed out, frowning.

"I did a lot of odd jobs, not just Treize's dirty work," he reassured her. "I was already planning to leave even before he asked me to; I'd gotten everything I wanted out of OZ by then and was ready to move on. At some point the administrative shit he had me doing stopped being a cover so much as a job and, well…" He shrugged. "I'm good at it, and I saw things that needed doing. It gave me more time to meet with Leia, and I was worming my way in deeper into the cyber underworld too… which was what eventually got me the connections to insinuate myself into White Fang." He paused and flicked his eyes over them, watching their reactions. "That was a Treize request, by the way. I'd been trying to track Howard back down and sweet talk him into letting me coordinate from Peacemillion when he landed me with that one, but…" He shrugged. "He made a good case, and he didn't have anyone else with the right leverage to slip in."

"I'd wondered about that," Cassidy admitted after a long moment of quiet. "I mean, in Amsterdam, before everything went to hell, you practically admitted to Minister Torraines assassination. White Fang's ideals… I figured either you really didn't do your homework, which just isn't you, or you'd never gotten out of espionage in the first place."

Jake's smile was all teeth and no warmth. "You're hardly the first. Zechs asked too, before he took me on for the Regime."

"Well, yeah," Hayden added. "But Treize died, so it's a moot point."

And here we go.

Jake closed his eyes, sighing. "Treize was my first friend and his mom was the closest thing I had to one, so when she died, we got even closer. When he asked me to meet his girlfriend, I snuck out with him. When he realized he had people gunning for his back, I spied for him; and after a while, when he showed me someone dangerous, I killed for him. We uncovered the scraps of Operation Meteor together. I ran myself ragged fucking up the communication lines between the colonies in 195 to keep the Bartons three steps behind him during the war, and when I heard Tallgeese had been destroyed, I threw up until I passed out. I thought…" He sucked in a deep breath, jaw clenching. "He'd tried to warn me he thought it might be coming, but I wouldn't believe it, and then all I could see was what I hadn't done to prevent it."

"Fuck," someone muttered under his breath.

"So when he texted me four hours later and asked me to stay close to Zechs, I didn't hesitate."

"Fuck!"

No one else broke the silence though, so the colonel continued. "As soon as I woke back up, though, I was already trying to muddy the waters. Before I got confirmation on Tallgeese, I wiped Heavyarms' signature from the Dolls' database so Zechs couldn't track him; they already had satellite imaging on the three that crashed, though, so there wasn't much to do there. In hindsight it's probably a damn good thing I couldn't find a trace of Shenlong seeing as he didn't kill my adoptive brother, but that's because actually bailed long before it was done. It didn't take long to realize that the Regime takeover of the World Nation was probably best for everyone involved, so I helped on the digital end, and buried myself in search and rescue maneuvers until the American borders closed.

"When I saw the morons Marquise put in charge of cyber security for his new network, I corrupted it. When Zechs asked me to hunt for the gundam pilots, I accepted. Never got jack shit for most of them, but I laid and chased a few false trails on each. Forwarded traces on Yuy, who I actually did manage to catch out at least slightly a few times, to Treize while I made a show of tracking him with Zechs' people in vaguely nearby areas a few times, but no one ever got close enough to count." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I feel like I spent most of that year trying to find the most incompetent people ever to handle the groundwork because Winner was that bad at not being seen. I lost track of how many false trails I put down on that kid just to try to divert attention…"

He sighed, looking up and around the room at each of them. "And then Relena started stirring the pot. I was curious, and would've stepped in even if Treize hadn't asked me for an evaluation. She hadn't lost any of the potential she'd been loaded with in 195, and her most crippling problems were insecurity and a lack of resources – I wanted to see what she could do without those blocks. The further things went, the more promising they looked, and I figured I'd have a yay or nay for my friend on whether to let the cat out of the bag before Christmas. Then…"

Relena stood when he trailed off, taking a step towards him. "Then Munich happened?" Her tone was half questioning. "That was when the mask started to slip."

"You stopped being just another project," he admitted wryly, meeting her eyes as he crossed his arms. "I couldn't think about it that way anymore, and it just kept…" He shook his head slightly. "After I woke up from that clusterfuck in Amsterdam, I realized I hadn't given Treize anything on you since September. And… I didn't want to correct it."

He licked his lips. "I didn't want to turn on you, but I didn't want to betray him either, so I thought if I just waited, maybe things would fall out the way they were supposed to. I hid behind both your and my recovery as an excuse for Treize. I convinced David he wanted all our loyalists at his back on the Strike Force so I could rebuild your household, and I waited, and… it only got worse. The more I helped pull you away from your brother, the less sure I was about how you would respond to Treize. The more power you gained, the more influence, the more I saw how genuinely you could lie, and…" He looked down, and let out a weak, humorless little laugh. "And then I find out by accident that you've been playing me from day one just as hard as I was you."

Her smile was gentle. "I know that when Milliardo realizes I intend to overthrow him, I'm only going to get one chance. If you were willing to turn me away when I could see what it was costing you, I wasn't going to waste what we had." She shook her head. "We really are matched, you know."

He brought his hands up to cover his face. "Believe me," he muttered. "I'm never going to forget it." Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and brought his hands back down to his hips, looking around at them all sharply. "Well? Questions?"

Cassidy frowned. "I feel like I'm supposed to be surprised, but I'm not."

"I accepted this assignment because I wanted her in charge," Marsden pointed out bluntly. "I said that when I interviewed."

"I'm… not really getting how this changes anything?" Hayden admitted.

"Treize is alive and we're going to ally with him against the Regime," Lin summed up.

Hayden gave him a bemused look. "Okay, and?"

"I don't really understand why Treize was ever painted in such a bad light," Addie put in conversationally, standing up and moving to take her son back from Daniella.

"Politics, mostly," John offered, stretching his arms over his head. "I mean, he did some pretty heinous stuff, but it was war." He shrugged. "Anyway, the guy had – shit, has – one of the lowest civilian casualty counts of any general in the past three decades."

God, isn't that a sobering thought. He wasn't sure how much that said about Treize versus what humanity had come to… but you couldn't actually pull the two apart and put them in a vacuum. Treize had arguably done what he had because he was disgusted with the current system. People didn't violently overthrow multiple governments when they were satisfied with the status quo.

"I'd like a few more details," Illian admitted after a minute. "But it makes sense." He looked around curiously. "Who else didn't already know?"

"I'm from Vermont," Sasha pointed out sharply. "I'm with you, Relena, but your brother can go fuck himself."

Relena offered Jake a little smirk. "Told you."

"You can't really have thought it was an accident that half of your staff is from the States," the man deadpanned.

"Mu is the only one who ever made a point of it."

"The Americans keep forgetting that they aren't the only ones who had their hometowns razed to the ground in the past twenty years," Vaughn announced in a dangerous tone, eyes narrowed. "No one even remembers the name of where I grew up; the Alliance just relocated the survivors and told everyone it was an accident."

Jake breathed out sharply through his nose. "Yeah, that… I wasn't sure how much you knew about that."

"I'm five years older than you," Vaughn pointed out. "You're too young to know much either."

"I make a habit of data mining for dirty secrets. It's hard to even find proof it happened though, beyond human memory. They scrubbed it from the net really fucking hard." He shook his head. "I'd wondered, but wasn't sure if it'd be okay to ask how you made it; everyone else at your school was incinerated."

"Wasn't at school." He smirked. "Me and Tony ditched and took this sweet little convertible joyriding." He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "Ditched it at a chop shop when we realized the owner was dead, though."

Jake blinked, mouth twitching. "A third and fourth grader skipped school… to steal a car."

Vaughn smirked, though that dangerous glint hadn't left entirely. "I was tall for ten." His smile widened. "And you hired me for my efficient skill set."

Their commanding officer groaned, but Mu looked horrified. "What happened?"

"'Accidental missile launch,'" Vaughn informed her grimly, making air quotes. "The dirty kind, so they wouldn't even let anyone rebuild until nobody cared enough to want to anymore. Sixteen of them, all 'coincidentally' aimed at public buildings." He scowled. "Beyond that I've got no fucking idea, but I call bullshit."

"Everyone I could find even obliquely mentioned in reference to it in the military is dead," Jake added. "So unless they missed a hard database or paper files somewhere, we'll never know."

Vaughn made a face, but some of the tension eased out of him. "Yeah, I know. It happened, and it is what it is, you know? I just wish people weren't so quick to forget." He snorted. "My mom would've killed me if she'd lived to see me join the Regime. Tony too, if he wasn't too busy popping meth to notice the world tried ending."

Illian grimaced. "I only went into the Alliance for the education, and my dad still wouldn't talk to me for months. He didn't start warming back up until I showed him I flunked out of flight school."

"Yes," Vaughn crowed proudly leaning over to give the smaller man a high five. "I threw those tests so hard they hit the damn wall. No fucking way I wanted in a mobile suit."

"You've seen my reflexes," Illian pointed out dryly. "After that, I just had to show them how bad I was with computers. They still let me take all the math and biology I wanted." He glanced over to Relena. "I like numbers. And it's cool, knowing how stuff works."

The princess shrugged, looking content. "You're good at numbers, and you got your biology degree, didn't you?"

"Yes and yes," he agreed proudly. "I still want a rose garden."

"I can't do roses," Jake cut in. "They'll end up in the house, and just… no."

"What's wrong with roses?" Dorothy protested.

"Treize, is what. I will not have roses in my house, pick something else." Relena started giggling, leaning against his side.

"They're the easiest thing to crossbreed," Captain Derusha whined. "And this is a good climate for most species!"

"Man up and pick something a little harder, then!" He wrapped an arm around the princess and pulled her closer, completely ignoring her laughter. "Anything else."

"Don't worry, Illian," Olivia called. "The Sanc Palace has a lovely rose garden."

"Had," Jake corrected immediately. "They're all dead now and we can plant something else."

"As fascinating as I find this debate," Mu interrupted in a dry tone, "wasn't there anything else you wanted to go over?"

Jerome watched the colonel's eyes light up and he pulled away from Relena to pick up another manila folder. "This is for you," he offered, tone happy, but sober. "You're under no obligations to accept, but… he needs someone with your background. I didn't know until today, but he's made a pact with the old A0 colonies, and he can't afford a misstep. This is honestly the perfect fit sort of assignment I was waiting on for you before Dave jumped the gun, but with your experience with us added on? You're the perfect solution to start rebuilding the bridge between us and Treize." She reached for it, and he flicked his wrist up slightly in warning, making her meet his eyes. "But only if you want it. My offer still stands."

"Wait, what?" Hayden was narrowing his eyes.

"It's a hell of an honor either way, and he won't hold it against you if you refuse," Jake continued, letting her take it now. "But you should realize how rare it is for him to request someone personally like this. Look it over and let me know within a couple of days if you want me to make the arrangements, okay?"

Damn. Mu looked like she was about to start shaking.

Before he could make up his mind what to do about it though, Mai was sweeping in and taking the other woman by the arm. "This calls for carbs. We should go find where Addie's hidden the chips."

"We don't have any," the blonde woman insisted without looking away from her baby.

"She's lying," Mai informed them all in a singsong as she pulled Mu along with her into the bathroom to shortcut to the second floor. "But that's okay, because I keep a stash."

"Um…" Hayden looked around at them all in confusion. "So Mu's going to work for Treize?"

"Mu has always been working for Treize," Jerome explained tiredly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to be insensitive when Jake was obviously going out of his way to handle the situation delicately, but it needed to be said.

"…Huh." He seemed to think about that for a long moment before shrugging and turning back to Jake. "Okay. So what now?"

oOo


oOo

Rotterdam, Netherlands

So, that won't take long to bite me in the ass. All the same, he sauntered out of the place like he owned it, confident he had at least ten minutes before everything imploded. He still wasn't totally decided on what he was going to do with said ten minutes if he still had no back-up in town, but he figured he had at least until he got across the street to sort that out.

He was actually starting to worry about 'Liss; it wasn't like her or Amos to not answer him, though he supposed none of them were used to cell phones anymore. At the same time, the kid was usually glued to the damn thing… He was starting to wonder if the piece of shit he'd bought down here was so bad it wasn't receiving anything. Or sending. It wasn't exactly like there was quality control for phones that cost about the same as a good burger.

Really, everything had been going great until he met this bunch of territorial losers; they reminded him an awful lot of the Slingers, which meant he probably wouldn't've been able to work with them in the best of times, so it wasn't much of a loss. If they managed to run him out of town, though, that would undo a lot of the work he'd already put in negotiating with the other sectors of the city. He could probably lone wolf this shit and not get run out, but he didn't know Rotterdam like he did his own town, and no one was answering either the cell or the shop phone, which were the only ones he'd bothered memorizing.

Note to self: memorize Heero's fucking number. The guy was always helpful in a pinch, but honestly, it hadn't occurred to him that he might have issues with a phone he provided. Well, probably with the phone he gave me. He needed to memorize Quatre's too, while he was at it.

In his defense, it had been a damn long time since he might need to contact someone he couldn't just go find. Having a cell phone again, even a crappy one, was surreal, and that was a little sad.

"Hey."

He didn't recognize her at first, with the ruby red hair and dark framed glasses, but she was looking at him like he should, so he focused on the lines of her face, the color of her eyes… and frowned. "You," he pointed out, starting to walk again. "Are not my wife." And what the hell is Heero feeding this kid, anyway? She was the same height as Melissa now.

The girl snorted, keeping pace with him. "You said you were worried about security, so I designed that phone to lock down if it didn't get your fingerprint every other day, you know."

Oh. That wasn't a bad idea, in theory, but… Shit. 'Liss was going to kill him.

"So your wife started to freak out when Adam came looking for you and got ahold of my brother," she continued. "Who caught a flight to Amsterdam before checking out what actually happened."

"That's almost sentimental of him," he couldn't help but point out, smirking.

Marlé – Harlé? Audi? Audi – rolled her eyes. "He could have thought it out a little better, but he'd still be a couple hours out anyway; he was in Poland when he got the call. Adam and your people are still maybe a half hour away."

"So how did you get in so fast?"

"Hid in a cargo hold," she explained dismissively. "And I was running an errand for Cat when Odin called, so I was closer. Skye's nearby if we need him, but I'm not actually sure whatall he's good at. He keeps an awful lot of knives, though; I counted at least twelve, and those were obvious."

He grimaced; at least he knew who Audi was, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Call him." He had, like, five minutes to come up with a plan that wasn't 'run and hide' – though if Melissa and the other Devils were as close as Audi said, that was also a lot more doable.

"Gimmie yours first," she demanded, reaching for his back pocket and snagging it before he could. "When I told them where you were, 'Liss was scared to distract you. She won't call until you do-"

"You said it wasn't ringing!" he protested.

"No, but Adam's with her now," she lectured, quickly tapping out a ten digit number and hitting send before handing it back and pulling her own phone seemingly out of her freaking underwear. He honestly hadn't thought that particular ability of Heero's was learnable. "Yo, Skye!"

"Kay?" Melissa sounded tense.

He blew out a breath, feeling tired. "Hey, sorry," he muttered quickly. "Technical issues, apparently."

"We heard," she confirmed. "I got all your messages at once. Are you okay?"

"For now." He licked his lips, mind skittering back to trying to make a plan. "I've got Audi here, and…" He huffed out an annoyed breath, turning back to the redhead. "Who the hell is Skye, anyway?"

"One of Cat's friends," she returned easily, already disconnecting the call and tucking it down the front of her pants again as she scanned their surroundings. "High ground?"

"Sure, why not." One of Quatre's. Okay, that's not so bad then. "Okay, well, I've got two people with me, and they're not you, but-"

"Do what you need to." Though she still sounded upset. "We'll be there soon."

He really needed to go, but he needed to know for sure. "Thirty minutes?"

She made a vaguely sick sounding noise. "Less – but I never want to let this man drive again. He ploughed right through the traffic laws a while ago and now he's working on the natural ones."

He grimaced; he'd had no idea she got motion sick. "You know I'm probably worse, right?"

"Twenty minutes," he heard Trowa call out in a flat tone, his focus obviously on the road. "I'd say fifteen, but I can't manage that without a splashy entrance."

A chorus of moans and curses came through the line, and he winced again. "As subtle as he can manage, please," he told Melissa. "I've got to go. Love you."

"Going to hold you to that," she groaned, hanging up.

God, but he hoped he wasn't going to regret wherever they'd gotten a car from.

oOo


oOo

L4

"How light are we going?" Tay asked distractedly as he opened a drawer.

Priya pursed her lips, considering, then shook her head. "I had to come to you for help," she pointed out. "That means we're doing it your way, from here; you decide."

The young man made a face and grabbed a few seemingly random articles of clothing and dropped them on the top of the dresser before bumping the drawer shut again and walking over to his closet. "One bag, then," he announced without looking back. "And something that you can shoulder if we're in a hurry."

She scowled. "I prefer to have wheels," she complained. Carrying a suitcase over even half the distance she had already put herself through on this chase sounded utterly unappealing.

"Then be willing to ditch whatever's in it if we're pressed," Taylor dismissed, grabbing a rucksack that could only hold maybe five days worth of clothes. "The timetable can be fluid, sometimes."

"That'll work," she agreed after a moment – anything important or incriminating, she could keep in her purse. In any case, there was something freeing about traveling with next to nothing, just buying anything you needed as you went. "Did you come up with something to tell your dad?"

He made an irritated noise. "I'm twenty, not ten. I don't have to have a reason to go run around if I want to."

Priya frowned. Fred really wasn't someone she wanted upset with her. "But what did you tell him?" she asked a little more insistently.

"That the guys over in Mech invited me on a walking tour around Europe," Tay returned, though his voice now dripped with scorn. "You know, before it starts getting stupid cold again. Maybe see some historical shit before someone decides to blow it up."

She paused. "You seriously told him that?"

He looked over at her as he strode back to the dresser and rolled his eyes. "I sugarcoated it a bit, but yeah. He tried to talk me out of it, and I reminded him that he and Mom didn't raise an idiot. He threw up his hands and walked, and Mom tossed me a wink before scurrying after to calm him down." He shook his head. "It's basically junior year all over again, version two point oh."

Ooh… That had been a good time. Too bad this was more work than play – Tay could seriously party with the best. "You think your mom's onto us again?" she asked curiously.

"At least by half," Tay agreed cheerfully as he tossed his tablet and a few other electronics in the bag. "I'm pretty sure she thinks the big secret is that it's with you and Felicia, Torie, and Vanya, though, instead of the guys."

"Scandalous," she intoned dryly. "Your best friend and a couple relatives. So much worse than those frat boys that got you into hookah."

"I know, right? Sometimes he has some seriously questionable priorities." He strode into the bathroom and dug a small case out from under the sink. "Call us a ride to the port; if they can be here in under ten, we should be able to catch the evening ferry to L1 Earthbound."

oOo


oOo

Rotterdam, Netherlands

"Look at this suspiciously convenient alleyway! I like it so much, I'm not going to question it!" Marie dropped her voice into a less stupid cadence as she watched Duo shift his weight and shrug confidently, saying something. "Well, don't mind me, I'm totally innocent. You were saying?"

Skye groaned through her earpiece. "Are you shitting me?"

"Why not?" she argued happily, eyes fixed on the confrontation below, her fake glasses pushed up on top of her head. She was supposed to wait for Duo's signal, but she needed to be sure there wasn't a reason to act earlier either. "It's not like you have any idea what they're saying either, and you can hear them." She hadn't even realized Dutch was a real language before Moira dragged her to Amsterdam.

"You," Skye groused, grudging amusement obvious in his voice, "are going to be either the best or the absolute worst thing ever for my poker face."

She grinned wide enough that her face hurt at that, shifting from her crouch to kneel – she liked the angle through the bars better, this way. The third story apartment whose balcony she was borrowing was definitely lived in, but she'd made sure nobody was home before settling in. She could skitter fast if she had to – it wouldn't he a hard route from here up another couple balconies to the roof – but this one had the best cover she could find, between the heavy furniture and potted plants, while still being close enough that her shots should be perfect. If this went down the way it was supposed to, no one would be firing on her, but, you know – you were supposed to plan for everything to go to hell, if you wanted to be prepared.

She liked having back-up plans for her back-up plans. She could probably still be totally accurate from on the roof if she needed to, and it had enough of a lip to make for a perfect bullet screen, but there was no reason to make this harder than it had to be. Duo was counting on her – she was going to do her best.

"There you are," her phone murmured quietly.

Huh. That was Odin's text noise… and almost two hours earlier than she thought he'd be getting back on the ground. I wonder what happened. All the same, she kept her eyes focused on the men below, smirking at their overconfident swagger and Duo's sly nonchalance. The one in the lead actually thrust his chest forward a little as he spoke up and took a step closer – classic bully bullshit. "We're gonna grind your bones to make our bread!" she growled out boastfully. It fit pretty well – looking between him and the ex-gundam pilot, he had to be something like 6'5.

"That'd be some mortar and pestle," Skye added dryly. "They make them that big?"

"Shh, they might hear you," she protested, taking a long, deep breath to keep from giggling. Her newfound friend was only a couple yards away from the others, ready to be the second half of a pincer while she added confusion to the mix, taking debilitating potshots in general, herding them where Duo wanted them if needed… stopping them if either he or Skye were truly in danger, but only as a last resort. She would have insisted on that rubric anyway, but it was nice to know that Odin's old friend only wanted to spook them, make them hurt enough that they'd think twice about being assholes down the line, not, you know… eliminate the opposition. She'd read his texts to Melissa during her flight – for the most part, he was just trying to extend the resource and intelligence network he'd cooked up in Amsterdam, and otherwise make friends. This gang deciding it was a power play so he could take their territory was really stupid. And that attitude would hurt everyone more long-term than whatever happened today.

And anyway, with this? She could read between the lines. If this gang actually caught him with his pants down or chased him out, it would have really far-reaching effects – the Dutchman was becoming a legend, and word would spread like wildfire. It wouldn't matter that he'd been alone in a city he didn't know; there'd probably be no real coming back from it. But if the three of them kicked ass? It would… would…

She frowned. What spreads faster than a wildfire? She'd, like… run out of metaphor.

It would be big, anyway.

Skye chuffed at her for bossing him around, but shushed anyhow. Marie held her breath in for a long count, then slowly began to let it out, focusing on her heartbeat as she relaxed into the flowing hyperfocus Odin had begun teaching her over a year ago. He hadn't really known what it was – he still thought she was making crap up when she said most people didn't ever do it – but…

If you could do it, everything got easy. Every tiny motion you made, every breath, it was intentional, exact, and it was like everything you tried, you did at the razor peak of what you could do on a really good day – only it just kept going. It was hard to stay there for long, but it got easier to find the better you got at something without it, and for her? Shooting was probably the easiest way in. That or parkour.

She was pretty sure that Odin hadn't not been in flow for a long time, which was sorta crazy, but, well… would explain a lot.

A comfortable weight settled into her bones as her heart slowed, and she felt warm as she smirked, pulling in another long breath, flicking her focus between the handful of guys confronting Duo for a moment to make sure she hadn't missed anything – before starting to pick favorites. Giant's hand, where he was holding the handle of his colt wrong… it'd be easy to make him drop it. Blondie's left leg, where he liked to rest his weight; Dumbo would be tricky but if she got a clear line, so worth it. Beer Shirt and Green weren't wearing bulky jackets, so she could hit them in the arms without worrying about estimating depth and nicking an artery…

Giant postured a little more, and Duo made a placating gesture as he said something else, still with a half casual and half deadly smile just a little too mocking instead of sheepish. 'You sure you want to play this game?'

Green jerked his chin in a jeer, 'You don't scare us!'

Duo tipped his head a little to one side. 'That sounds like a you problem.'

The air grew thick as she held her breath, almost sleepy, as everything seemed to slow, heart dropping into the forties, and she resisted the urge to sprawl like a lazy cat – instead taking a moment to flex her hands in a deep stretch before resettling her grip and breathing out. She allowed herself a slow blink before focusing back on the scene below her, deep in a trance. Any moment now… She was ready.

She was a good shot on the fly, but if she could stay in the zone? She was freaking awesome.

Duo shrugged in an exaggerated way in response to something else they said, raising one hand palm up before shifting to point at the sky.

Ready.

He made a slow twirling motion with it.

In the moment between one heartbeat and the next, Marie shot the gun in Giant's hand. He dropped it with a curse, but by then, she already had Blondie dropping to the ground and two deep grazes across Beer's dominant arm. While their eyes were still busy widening, the ex-pilot darted forward and slammed a fist into the underside of Giant's jaw so he dropped like a sack of bricks and spun to drive an elbow deep into the solar plexus of Green so he doubled over.

Her next shot was Beer's off-shoulder, because he had a gun at each hip instead of just one, and he hadn't done more than hiss and grimace at his left arm yet. Angles were still bad on Dumbo, so she creased his hip instead so he'd stagger, or at least be slower. Goatee was raising a gun she hadn't been able to see before, so she got him solidly in the elbow – he screamed.

She didn't let the sound touch her. He hadn't been planning to just graze Duo enough to make him back off.

Another one she hadn't made a nickname for yet started to split for the alley mouth, and she narrowed her eyes as she waited for the next heartbeat to finish. Best target? she debated, probably a leg-

He screamed, a knife sprouting from his Achilles, and went down face first.

Oh right. Skye.

The next gap brought another four bullet creases over sensitive, hard to ignore areas and she ejected her clip automatically to slide her spare home… but there was really nothing left to bother with. All their attackers were down, either unconscious or disinterested in moving… Though Beer Shirt guy was actually pinned against the freaking wall with a handful of knives while Duo frisked him. He'd apparently been trying to move out of her line of fire, and it wasn't a bad attempt, but… Skye. "You need to teach me that," she told him seriously, dropping her glasses back onto her face. Odin never let her throw knives – he said it was stupid to give up a weapon.

It was seriously cool, though!

"Yeah, sure." Skye was walking out from behind his cover now to help Duo check for surprises. "But for the record? That was really anticlimactic."

"Well, we're not really done yet," she offered. "It's a big city – I doubt this gang only has this many guys." The Devils were, like… Forty people? Not all of them were fighters of course, but they also really weren't a normal gang... So how many is normal?

Marie scowled as she realized she'd lost the flow. She had no idea how to answer that question.

It sucked.

"I don't actually care," Skye was quick to point out. "I'm all for anticlimactic. Besides, his preferred backup will be here any minute now, right?"

"Right."

"So let's just make sure we're golden. Meet you down here." The line disconnected.

Making a face, she tucked her gun and mostly empty clip back in their holsters and started hunting around the balcony floor for her brass. Can I just ask Amos? No, it'd have to be Duo. If he even knew. But if he didn't, then how was she supposed to figure it out? She could probably find some sort of statistics study in a sociology journal online, but how real would that actually be? Would it even be worth the time?

She only found eight of her casings – the rest had to have fallen below, and she sighed as she hopped the railing and made her way down to the next level, keeping a sharp eye out. It wasn't a big deal, really, if she didn't find them all – the gun couldn't be traced back to her – but it was sloppy, and she didn't like it. It almost made her wish she had a revolver instead, but she liked having fast access to more than six bullets at a time, and nothing reloaded as smooth as a fresh magazine.

She only found two more before she gave it up and started over to the others, but she was mostly sure the last couple were in the big dumpster underneath the balcony she'd claimed, not the ground, so whatever. "Hey," she called as she jogged up. "What next?"

Duo narrowed his eyes at her. "You," he announced. "Are terrifying."

…Ooookay? "And helpful?" she suggested skeptically.

"You didn't miss a single target by a freaking millimeter, did you?"

She rolled her eyes; he didn't need to get all weird about it. "What's the point in aiming if you're not gonna pull it off?" She glanced over at Skye, hoping for back-up.

The blonde man held up his hands. "I know literally nothing about guns. It was loud; I don't even know how many times you fired."

"Twelve."

He blinked a few times. "…Twelve," he drawled after a long moment, face unreadable.

"Yeah?"

Skye turned back to Duo. "In, like, three seconds?"

"A little under," the other man confirmed.

"Right." He focused back on her and shrugged. "Sorry, I'm with him on this. Kinda scary."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Whatever." If they wanted to be dumb, it wasn't like she could stop them. "What's next?"

oOo


oOo

Sweepers Cruiser, near L3

"Sir!"

"Well, I'll be," Howard drawled, lowering his sunglasses to consider the screen more carefully. "Suppose it was only a matter of time, but still, I had my money on Treize keeping the game up a while longer." Though, considering the stats and what the news reporter was actually saying, which was remarkably little? "Then again, I suppose everyone's bound to get caught with their pants around their ankles sometime." It seemed pretty minor, and unless the Regime was suppressing vital information – he'd check that on a few hours, once the reports had more time to run through their database – no one had actually learned anything.

With two armies that big playing cat and mouse in space, it was inevitable that a couple of scouts would stumble on each other sooner or later. Only a handful of MS had been involved on either side, and casualties had been both mutual and minimal – after testing the waters, both commanders had been keen on the idea of skittering off to deliver information instead of trying to obliterate the other.

Frankly, it showed a lot more sense than the Alliance had ever been known for. Maybe the boys Marquise had kept on payroll were smart enough to look after themselves instead of just dying young and messy by the hundred.

He grit his teeth hard, resenting the pointless loss of life the Alliance had always been fond of – other people or themselves, the bastards had never been too picky. Dermail and Barton had both been monsters, and he'd always hated how all his old friends had been too caught up in their own ambitions to notice that. Or, if they did, to give a damn.

In any case, now those assholes were gone too, and he was left with the knowledge that he – the washout scavenger, as G liked to call him – was the only original gundam engineer alive to see what a fucking mess they'd made of things. He wasn't so jaded that he thought it had all been pointless, because he actually understood why Treize had shut down the Alliance; had mostly agreed with the scare tactics the young man wanted to employ as a preventative measure against future warfare, but, well… He wasn't sure he'd ever heard of something backfiring this fucktastically. The young people would be decades sorting this shit out, and he might live long enough to see the beginning of the repopulation of the Americas, but he might not, either. He took pretty good care of himself, but he wasn't exactly a spring chicken.

He snorted. Eh, what'll be will be. Quit moping, old man. "We have anyone close enough to grab the salvage?" he asked his pilot instead, starting to run estimates. Depending on how much they'd blown to pieces versus disarmed, even small battlefield remains could turn a pretty penny – and if no one picked the trash up while they still knew where it was, space debris could cause big problems. It was one of the things he liked best about running the space Sweepers; he got to line his pockets and genuinely do the right thing all at the same time.

And if he was in a position to help out his favorite young people along the way, well, that was just a bonus. Those kids had lived through enough hell already to understand the value of life – he'd back them anytime they asked.

"Drugger's close enough," Peter decided after a moment. "And it doesn't look like anyone else is trying to make a claim yet."

"Good!" He grinned. "Let's go be capitalists."

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

"Bonjour."

The boy blinked blue eyes, then frowned self-consciously. "I don't…"

"Amos, meet Cat," Odin deadpanned as he followed him in. "Don't mind his French."

Quatre choked on thin air, then started laughing, delighted. Despite the fact that he'd heard his friend make more than a few jokes since finding him again, his sense of humor just… It was startling. It was fantastic, but a lot of the time it still felt like it came completely out of left field.

The boy relaxed a little at seeing Odin, and glanced back at Quatre while he worried at his lip before facing the other man directly again. "Everyone's down in Rotterdam."

Quatre nodded easily, coming further in and looking around. "Audi told us," he confirmed in English; he honestly hadn't thought about what language he greeted the boy in before doing it. "But by the time we get down there, everyone will be ready to head back, so we thought we'd just wait."

Amos frowned again. "Audi?"

Odin grimaced. "Harlé. Maybe she'll stick with that, with you."

"It's closer while still being different enough on paper to work," Quatre agreed.

"But Audi has all the right vowels to be closer to her real name, and she's starting to get lost in the false ones," Odin argued. "If I'd realized she'd started to actually think of herself as Marlé, we would have done this sooner."

Ah. Name dysphoria. He could relate. "You might be overcomplicating the issue," he warned.

Odin tapped his head. "If the sounds are close enough, she can think of herself by her true name and change out the others as needed without upsetting her foundations. When we started using Marlé, I wasn't sure she could do that consistently, so it wasn't an option; this is better."

What's the world coming to when Heero is giving me a psychology lesson that makes far too much sense? Quatre thought wryly. Good things, I hope.

Amos was looking concerned, now. "So… what should I use?"

Odin shrugged. "Ask her." He held out a hand. "Phone, please."

"Can we wait here, or should we get lost?" Quatre asked curiously as Amos dug the device out.

"Mm." He started fiddling with the screen, seemingly absorbed. "Is Will here?"

"No. With everything going on…"

"Up to Amos, then," Odin decided, flicking through screens.

He couldn't just leave that lie. "Who's Will?"

"Duo's father-in-law with strong facial recognition and loyalty to Treize," the other man explained distractedly. "I assumed you'd rather avoid him."

…Yeah, that thought turned his stomach a little. Even if he still had a hard time recognizing himself in the mirror, that wasn't something he wanted to play with. "Have you met him?" he asked curiously.

"Not yet, but he knows I've come by." He looked up, eyes focusing on him. "Kasey talked him into only telling him about any of us personally, and since he can't do that while Treize is in space there's no real threat, but I thought you'd rather avoid the issue entirely."

Odin had either gotten exponentially more perceptive, or had hidden/ignored it extremely well before. He felt mildly concerned, but for the most part his emotions were his usual flowing confidence – ease of existence. As far as Quatre was aware, he'd never changed how he handled a situation in light of someone else's feelings before they'd reached Jerusalem.

Then again, how many times had he turned away from suicide during that long year between Libra and Jerusalem because he was worried about how Quatre would fare without him? He might have talked himself out of it without that as an excuse, but… There was no reason to short his friend the compassion he'd put in.

"Avoidance sounds good," he admitted. "Thanks."

Odin nodded, attention back on the phone.

"Who's here?" another boy called, coming out of the room upstairs to lean on the banister and peer down at them. He was taller than Amos and looked a little older, with darker, wavy brown hair kept shorter than the other's and grey eyes.

"They're, um…" He looked up for a moment, thinking before deciding on, "Duo's friends."

"Ooh!" The one upstairs practically bounced. "Are you any good at gravitational equations? Because I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but my textbook says by answers are wrong and it's driving me crazy."

Amos made a face and reached up to tug at a short, dark blonde ponytail. "Normally, we ask Duo," he explained quietly. "But he left on Sunday." He bit his lip. "He's… okay?"

"He's fine," Quatre reassured him, internally marveling at just how much physical proximity to Odin helped; given how much uncertainty he was picking up from the kid's body language, he imagined the empathic impact would be significant, if he didn't have his friend to anchor on.

He smirked as another thought occurred to him. "And you should ask him about gravity," he announced, jerking a thumb in Odin's direction. "I think he has more personal experience with terminal velocity than anyone else alive."

Odin snorted in amusement, but didn't deny it. He tipped his head, considering the boy upstairs, before asking, "Nolan?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." He stood up straighter. "Nolan Mehile."

Odin nodded. "Odin Lowe." Jerking a thumb back at Quatre, he added, "Cat Wilson." Looking back, he added, "Nolan is Kasey's brother-in-law; a year older than Audi." Flicking his eyes back to the other boy, he added, "Amos is…" He tipped his head again, debating, before settling on, "Adopted?" A small shake of the head. "He's like Cory. He turned fifteen last spring. Kasey homeschools them."

Amos blushed. "That's… not the right word, I think."

Quatre smiled, shrugging off his coat. "I get it; I don't really have a word for me and Cory either, or Odin and Audi." He couldn't help but remember Dr Samuel Srona's amusement when he had shown up in Jerusalem with the younger teen in tow, and understood now that it was because despite everything, he'd followed the same pattern as Odin of attaching to someone younger who had needed him. It was interesting to see that Duo had done the same… and for all that Trowa hadn't, he couldn't help but wonder if Wufei had done something similar too.

Given that he'd survived Cambyses and found the other three, he couldn't help but believe that Wufei was out there somewhere too. But with how the Asian man had always been so standoffish… he doubted they would hear from him again unless something forced his hand.

He wanted to sit in and watch how Odin handled this, though. He was sure he could answer questions, but he didn't have the faintest idea where to start for teaching, and while he wasn't sure how receptive Cory would be to lessons, he probably needed to start sorting out what to do about the boy's education. Even if they decided to put off anything formal for another year or two while Cory's mind settled into something closer to healthy equilibrium, it was something he should be thinking about.

Odin handed the phone back to Amos. "This should be back to normal now. I brought something more plain for Kasey, so you can keep it."

The boy's shoulders relaxed as relief flooded through them. "Thank-you," he murmured in a heartfelt way, feeling it strongly enough that Quatre picked up hints of it through the smokescreen that Odin's presence provided.

The other man just shrugged and started for the stairs. "You have a bell or something to put out for while we're upstairs?"

"And a sign," Amos agreed, moving over to a cabinet. "I'll meet you up there."

"Cool." He glanced back over his shoulder at Quatre. "Are you coming, or should I text you when they get back?"

"Oh, I'll shadow," Quatre returned, following him up. "Though I've been out of school for long enough that I'm not sure I'll be able to help much." His tutors had always kept a very… regimented classroom.

Odin snorted, amused again. "I never went to school. My father taught me what he thought was relevant, and J arranged material when he found a gap." His mouth twisted in a smirk. "I took a blind run when Audi was studying for her GED and failed almost all the soft subjects."

He probably should have expected that. "Yeah?"

He shrugged a little, still climbing the stairs. "History was easy enough to fix, but I've been taking my time going through the reading list I was recommended for literature." Another amused noise. "Most of the characters are… painful."

Quatre smirked. "That's common in the classics." He considered, then added, "Or a lot of writing, really. If you show me the list, I can probably recommend alternatives, or give you cliff notes. I'm not sure all of them are worth slogging through." His own education of classical fine arts had been extensive, and before meeting the Maguanacs and Instructor H, books had been his favorite escape.

"Later," Odin agreed as they reached the landing, a current of pleased anticipation wafting through him, and Quatre smiled. "I think I'd appreciate that." He focused on Nolan, heading over to the table covered in textbooks and paper, drawing out a chair. "Show me."

oOo


oOo

Cardiff, Wales

Nick fought the urge to groan as he collapsed into the armchair by the window, taking a minute to tune out the world around him. The music wasn't bad, it was pouring outside, and he felt toasty warm in here… he could bask in that for a little while, couldn't he? He'd missed the rain so much in Africa, even if he'd forgotten how fucking cold it was. At least his mom hadn't tossed his favorite coat – though whether that was because it had been lost in the back of the closet or out of sentiment was hard to say.

He'd honestly thought he'd be happy to see his mother again. Looking back, he wasn't entirely sure why, but he'd kinda figured that being the next best thing to dead for eighteen months would make her see how petty some of the shit they used to fight about was. It was one of the things that had stuck with him the most while in the belly of the fucking beast of Cambyses: that however awful it had been, he had needed the kick in the ass to change his perspective and grow up a little… And while he'd have preferred just about any other method for that, you couldn't change the past. He'd made it out and was moving on, so that was the important part, right? The past was past, and you made what you had work; the Stanton family had offered to pay his way through the rest of his arts degree if he wanted – or in a different field if his interests had changed – and he wasn't about to turn that down, once Trinity'd accepted his re-admission. It had made sense to enroll for winter and take the fall quarter to reconnect with his mom and work out what he wanted to do with his future.

Now though? God, maybe she was happy he was alive – she'd certainly seemed like it for the first week – but now she'd started to find all new things to hate him for. Before he'd been grabbed taking his spring break to help build refugee housing instead of meeting with her new boyfriend – who she'd left a few weeks later, so he really didn't know what the big deal was – it had been about how he was one of those new age hipsters who didn't give a damn about where they came from, or bother to learn to do anything useful unless it was popular. And honestly? Some of that had been true. But now? Now he was apparently too much like the father he couldn't remember that she had always used as an example of how he ought to be when he was little – except it was suddenly a bad thing. He stayed out too late, he smelled like smoke all the time, he never helped around the house, he didn't really care, he only pretended to, and couldn't he use some of that government stipend he got for fighting in the Sahara to replace those fucking awful boots?

"'Ere we are," the cheerful barista who'd taken his order announced in a heavy Scottish brogue as she offered him a mug.

"Diolch," he returned automatically, giving her a tired smile as he took it… then smiled more genuinely in spite of himself as he noticed the dollop of crème and cinnamon sprinkled on top.

She winked at him, smile turning impish. "Looked like you could use it, love." She tipped her head, hands coming to rest on her hips. "Long day?"

He sighed, bringing the coffee up to his lips. "Long year. Mm, that's great." He got odd looks for ordering the low-end crap in nice places like this, but he'd picked up a taste for truly shitty coffee thanks to Jovi's downright religious need for it. The cinnamon though… and nutmeg? That did something fantastic to it. "Thank-you very much, again. Wyt ti'n siarad Cymraeg?"

"Ach, not really," she returned with a shrug. "It's a pretty language, but I 'aven't the time to learn more'n what you pick up from people."

"Fair." He held up his cup in cheers. "Hope your day is better than mine."

She smiled prettily and winked at him again. "Diolch."

Nick grinned, watching her sway as she moved back to the counter before he could catch himself, then hurriedly looking back out at the wet street. He could hear Robby clicking his tongue in annoyance, muttering 'Rude' like a phantom in his head… and maybe it was twisted, but he missed the guy.

Fuck my life, but perspective is everything, isn't it?

He usually came home early from his errands and therapy and whatever homework the shrink gave him to get himself back under control – he just went back out when it felt like the walls were closing in around him, to walk the town. He couldn't believe he'd ever been content to sit still all the time, before. It helped, to move, to watch people and how they acted… It made it easier to remember what normal was. Sometimes, it made all the difference just to see people act casual, especially women… God, beyond his mom, the conversation he'd just had was the most he'd been able to talk to a girl since coming back without wanting to throw up. The context with women had never been good in Africa…

His stomach lurched and he closed his eyes, breathing hard. It wasn't like they'd targeted women any more than anyone else, but… God, their screams still haunted him. Robby had drilled them in how it was a mercy to kill quickly, and he believed it even more now than he had at the time, but the terror in their eyes?

Sometimes he wondered how he slept at all.

He'd refused the sleep aids they pushed at him – he was still getting way more sleep a night now than he had in the desert – but sometimes, the nightmares… He was just glad his mom was a deep sleeper.

There was something soothing about Welsh, too. No one else had spoken it in Cambyses – or if they did, they didn't use it, and he hadn't either. It was separate enough that it felt safe, and Kenneth had said he should try incorporating it into more of his day-to-day life now that he was at home, and see if it helped. He thought he might be able to hold a longer conversation with a girl if it wasn't in English – it was worth a try at least. Maybe he'd find someone to talk to in a pub later tonight, after his mom was asleep. His therapist kept trying to get him to make more friends too, but he was still too far away from these people to really get them… and it felt like a waste if he was heading back to school in a few months anyway.

It made him wonder if he should have just gone straight back to school instead of coming home after all. He liked Dublin. When he was there before, he'd felt like he'd finally started to figure out some of who he was instead of who he was supposed to be – before the world went to hell and all the rules changed. He hadn't run into anyone from high school since coming back, and he didn't feel brave enough to ask where they'd gotten to. He'd thought about trying to get in touch with his university friends, but they'd be upperclassmen now, and… Well, maybe it wouldn't seem like such a big deal when he was there again.

Honestly, he was tempted to call Jovi, but… that felt a little too much like giving up. He missed the guys when he thought he'd never want to see them again, but they'd all told him to look them up if he changed him mind, and said it was fine if he didn't… and he couldn't imagine it would be any different with the guys who left with Robby. Man, more than any of them, he missed Vaska – the man's blunt way of looking at things had really helped him get his shit together more than once – made him realize that life was as much about how you did something as what.

He was pretty sure Vaska was the oldest of them. Or at least, he was the most… wise? He wasn't smart, exactly, but he got emotions better than anyone he'd ever met, and that was supposed to be a kind of intelligence, wasn't it?

Maybe he should switch to a psychology major, when he went back to class. The more he learned from therapy and reading on his own trying to figure out his own headspace, he just…

He knew, now, that if Robby hadn't been as rough with him as he was, he'd have cracked. The few times he'd seen the guy be more lenient, even, he'd started to fall apart, and looking back, he could see that the guy had noticed and stopped. The implications there weighed a fucking ton, and combined with some of the stuff Cory had implied, before he and Charlie ran off? That Razo had outright said?

The fact that he missed Robby was so terrifying as it was in fair part because he was realizing he had no fucking idea just who Robby even was. How much of his commander had been a mask? But at the same time, it had been a mask made special for each of them, to give them what they needed to pull through… and that kind of compassion was rare anywhere, let alone in the hell they'd been living through. The more he pulled apart his time in the Sahara, the more he realized just how much Robby had done for them that probably fucked himself over, and that…

What were you supposed to do with that?

He closed his eyes and took a deep pull from his mug, focusing on the heat filling him… He'd never thought he would miss the heat. But here he was, sitting in a high end shop drinking Jovi's ground dirt excuse for a cup of Joe instead of the sweet mocha he'd preferred before the Fall, trying to work up a little interest in the world he'd been so keen on coming back to.

I, he decided sourly, am a fickle bitch.

It was the sort of statement that would have set Skye laughing his ass off, and God help him, the fact that he couldn't turn and say it to him out loud made him fucking homesick.

oOo


oOo

Rotterdam, Netherlands

"Skye?"

"Hey, Bossman," he returned cheerfully. "I took a side job as a thug, but I'm ready to get back to business now. I hear you're in Amsterdam?"

Cat snickered. "I am. Odin was trying to make his life hard when it was easy enough to charter a jet, so I intervened. Are you coming back with the rest of his people?"

"Well, I could, but the van's pretty crowded," Skye allowed, watching all the Dutch people talk amongst themselves. "Audi's not committed to heading up with them either, so I figured I'd check in and see if you had anything else useful for us to get done. Has anyone heard back from Ardith yet?"

"He got in touch, but he's still up in Norway for another few days," Cat admitted. "Are you game to pick up his workload?"

"Sure. Will I need to hit Szczecin again, or can we get the papers sent somewhere?" He still butchered the city name every time he tried to say it, but he wasn't ever going to manage it if he didn't keep trying.

"They can be sent; I'll email you the details in a minute." There was the sound of a door shutting, and the other man's voice gained a little more volume and clarity as he spoke up. "Everything went okay? No one's hurt?"

"Eh, no one we care about," Skye allowed, looking up in time to see Audi happily hugging Melissa, who still looked a little green around the gills. "Looks like a good job all around, but I don't really know what's going on, so I can't say any more than that." This Kasey guy was obviously important to Cat or they wouldn't be all involved in this, but despite how easy Audi was slipping in with them, these 'Devils' were insular enough that they set all sorts of alarm bells clanging. They were tight the same way he was with the other guys, and… well. He didn't know them well enough to tell if they'd be cool with a Cambyses survivor or not, and that… really wasn't something he wanted to find out about in person.

Cambyses Survivor. He liked the spin the media was putting on it, because yeah, he'd fucking survived that shit, but… He was kinda glad he wasn't officially down as someone who'd made it out. Charlie said that Colonel Mitchell had agreed to have all their names from Robby's list posthumously cleared the same as the guys who had stayed because of what they'd done taking down Roshan's encampment, so they could reclaim their identities down the line if they really wanted, but… That was a lot of stigma. He'd have to see how most people handled it before he'd think twice about being Skye Kimball again instead of Killian.

It wasn't like he had anybody left to remember him from before anyway; his folks and all his sisters had been in Provo. He knew his parents had had probably about four years' worth of food and supplies stashed in the basement, but without a bunker, it was probably a moot point. He'd done the math, and there might've been enough time for the church to pull together and do something before the effects of the Fall really hit, but…

Well, it really wasn't worth thinking about.

"Hey," Audi muttered, trotting up to him. "Please tell me we're not getting in that car; someone totally threw up in there."

Skye made a face. "Nah. I'm going to- Hey, Cat? Where am I going?"

"Saint Petersburg."

"Fuck, we're going to need to pick up some fur hats, apparently we're hitting the Viking version of hell."

She giggled and rolled her eyes, turning to wave a goodbye at the others before heading for a street that would take them back in the direction of the storage locker they'd dropped their duffels in. "Russia's not that bad," she protested. "Though if your coat's crap, we can get you a decent one for a good price there, at least. There's this shop I hit once in Novgorod that sells awesome stuff lined with rabbit fur – the owner's wife breeds them in their back yard, and they get huge." She looked back over her shoulder at him, grinning. "Taste pretty good too."

And that was that, apparently. He liked Audi – she flew by the seat of her pants like a pro. "Send me that info?" he muttered into the phone. "Then give me a bit to work out a travel plan and I'll give you a city on our way that'll be good for you to mail stuff to."

"Alright. Safe travels."

Skye grinned. "You too, Boss. Later."

oOo


oOo

October 25th 198 – Friday – Near Zahedan, Iran

"Right through here, your Excellency."

Chancellor Mason Monteith nodded in the gracious way that was expected of him and continued to follow – he knew where he was going, but sometimes it was better to let the sheep feel useful. This one was privileged to be here and he knew it – filling out his expectations so he would not only be willing to serve again in the future, but eager? It was worth a little indulgence of annoying habits.

Willing soldiers, after all, made for far more capable troops than the indentured.

They reached the hangar overlook without incident, and he rested his hands on the railing as he double-checked the count and settled his vertigo into a proper sense of scale. Relying on something other than your own eyes too often was a bad habit for too many leaders. It was necessary to delegate, of course, but men lied, whether by mistake or intent. Seeing something, knowing it by your own senses, was irreplaceable.

That had been Dermail's mistake – believing he understood a situation instead of doing the work himself, walking alongside the young new Queen and keeping a firm hand on the back of her neck to pull her back in line should she go getting ideas. He'd been a fool to misjudge his partners' intent to use the girl against him until it was too late. He never would have thought the Duke was trusting enough to fall into that sort of trap, but, well. He'd grown old.

Perhaps he'd become sentimental.

His own family had been well placed to weather the Fall, and despite the constraints put down by Peacecraft's initial campaign against the East, Mason had been able to take advantage of it. Europe's conqueror hadn't been shy about removing those weak or unwilling to bend in the wake of his massacre, but he also hadn't been stupid enough to attempt a complete subjugation of the southeastern clans the way he had the others. In the wake of Libra's destruction, the Middle East and Asia had been too valuable to risk a drawn out war – once Peacecraft had changed his mind about killing everyone, he'd known he would need the means to feed them. It had been the Saudi, Indi, and Asian farms that saw them through the first year of winter, before the Princess wrangled heat amplifiers out of the Chinese. Afterwards, the African land conversion had hit so many roadblocks that the self-proclaimed emperor found breaking away still too untenable to consider – and by then, the dust had settled enough in his own territory that he had additional problems. But now that they were wading into the territory where Europe and Africa might actually be self-sustaining again?

Other measures would be necessary.

Compared to what they had had before Treize took over Dermail's World Nation and threw them away against Peacecraft in a bid to simply survive, this was only a modest collection of MS. Modest, but growing… and he had some time yet. There was no point in moving until Peacecraft had spent his best putting down the latest colonial revolt.

That campaign was a little perplexing – too subtle for any remnants of Barton to be in charge, but too direct to be the work of the Winner brood – but it couldn't last for too much longer before hostilities came to a head. Peacecraft couldn't afford to feed his troops for a truly extended campaign while isolated in space and would force the issue soon, if nothing else. Once he was fully committed there, Po's Insurgence ought to start disassembling the Regime's forces on Earth in earnest. After that, Europe, at least, would be ripe for the plucking. So they had time.

Nearly a full brigade, he estimated, nodding thoughtfully. Still modest, but a good start – production had only been running at a respectable rate for two months… and this was only one depot.

It would do for now.

oOo


oOo

October 26th 198 – Saturday – Antwerp, Belgium

"Are you nervous?"

Odin wrinkled his nose, thinking about it, before shaking his head. "No. There's something, but…" He shook his head; he didn't know the word for it.

Quatre raised his eyebrows, looking skeptical. "It's not actually a big deal if nothing comes out of this," he reminded him.

"I know." He'd had every intention of doing this eventually anyway, but it hadn't been relevant until they had started talking about business ventures. It still didn't have to be, but... He did want to know.

So he didn't understand. Maybe… "It feels big."

The other man's eyes shone with amusement. "This, coming from you?"

He shrugged, willing to see the humor as well. "I don't want to go in before five," he decided. The office was closed on Sundays – if he waited until nearly closing today, nothing would be filed until Monday. If the situation turned on him, he would be happy for the extra response time.

Quatre nodded, picking up on what he didn't say. "The motto is true, you know. It's an all or nothing if you go for it, but if you take a look and don't like what you find, there won't be any record of you coming in."

That was a cute idea, but he didn't believe it. "Right."

"I'm serious. I've never met her personally, but Delilah Osborne is solid; one of ours." The taller man undid the top few buttons of his coat and looked down as he dug into an inside pocket. "Lance walked in two weeks back." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and dug in his pants pocket for a lighter. "I can't find anything that suggests they told anyone he'd come by."

That was new information. "Is he the only one who tried?" He hadn't met Lance yet.

Quatre shrugged, flipping his Zippo open and checking to see if it sparked. "It's not something I ask," he admitted. "He's the only one who told me about it, though." He shut the lighter again and tapped the pack absently against his thigh. "If you ask me, they're marketing for Cambyses men, which worried me until I realized who was behind it."

Interesting. "Hn." He watched him continue to fidget for a long minute before asking, "Are you going to smoke or what?"

His friend made a pained sort of noise and jammed the pack and lighter both back into his coat pockets. "I don't need it," he denied. "My hands just feel empty."

He hadn't been aware that need had ever had anything to do with the habit. "Aa."

Quatre groaned again. "Don't be like that."

He thought he'd been careful to not express an opinion. "Does it affect your lung capacity?" he asked curiously.

"Probably." His tone was… dark. "I don't do it enough to have much of an impact, but yes, it does. Razo used to yell at me for it."

Odin frowned. There was an idea he hadn't expected, buried in that statement. "Did you want me to?"

"No." The answer was immediate, strong… and then Quatre slumped a little. "Maybe." He sighed. "No, I don't. I just miss Razo."

Considering how close Quatre was with the rest of his people, that made sense. "He knows you're alive," he pointed out.

Quatre rubbed at his face. "Jovi says he still doesn't have a phone."

"Email?"

"Only the one the Regime assigned him when he signed on to stay in the Strike Force."

That made sense, but didn't mean the other man wasn't making this more difficult than it had to be for no reason. This kind of thing was at least part of the reason they'd founded Rubato last month. "Have Jovi invite him to the social network?" He tried to remember another name. "Or Jalee?"

"Is it really fair to tug his loyalties around if he wants to go save people with Mitchell?" He sounded miserable now. "He can get back to me through the others if he wants to."

Odin resisted the urge to sigh, closing his eyes for a moment instead. He was done trying. "What time is it?"

"Five to five."

Good enough. "I'll meet you back at the hotel." He started for the HTD office a few blocks away.

Quatre scoffed and followed him. "Sorry."

"Don't start that either," he warned.

A more annoyed noise this time, but he didn't argue. "Are you okay?" he asked instead.

His own annoyance rose. "I want to know," he pointed out.

"But you also kept putting it off," he argued.

And I don't know why. "It wasn't important."

"You wouldn't feel this weird about it if it wasn't important."

"I don't feel weird about it."

"You really do, though."

Odin glowered up at his friend. "Any other insight?"

He'd meant it sarcastically, but Quatre only gave him a serious look as they walked. "You don't have to go in."

"You want me to. And it's a good idea." It was worth exploring before they moved on to other avenues, and they'd spent the last month building everything around this.

"I do," Quatre admitted. "But if it's going to make you feel weird, I have other ideas."

This was getting circular. "I want to know," he repeated resolutely. "The only variable is timeline, and if it's useful to do it now, there's no reason not to." There were so many questions now, more every week, that he wanted the answers to and had no way of getting – unless he did this. He'd exhausted all the other options last month.

And he didn't know why this felt strange – it was the obvious solution. He'd known it since leaving Israel, over a year ago. He was nearly positive his father had gone to great lengths to arrange this for him, and everything he and Quatre had learned about the History for Tomorrow Database and the Osborne Reunion Foundation had the same feel – as though the system had been designed for him to take advantage of specifically. It was too perfect.

Maybe that was the problem. It was all too clean, too neat: it felt like a trap. The last time something had been custom designed for him, it had been while he was with the Barton Foundation, and that…

Why is it harder to think about that time now than it was six months ago? It had happened years ago – nothing about his time preparing for Operation Meteor before or after the retraining had changed, and he didn't think his perception had either, but… it was harder to think about, now that he had seen how both Marie and Quatre responded to the information. How Lucrezia reacted to even mild implications of what had made him who he had been when he flew a gundam. Everyone but Marie had tried to be subtle in their reactions, but he had seen, and…

It had twisted something, and he wasn't sure what to do with it anymore.

Quatre sighed. "If you're sure."

"I am." If nothing else, now that he'd recognized the problem he wanted nothing more than to remove it. "I'll meet you back at the hotel." If he got made, Quatre didn't need to be associated with the incident.

The office was harder to spot than he had expected. It was small, with an understated sign and no window:

oOo

The History for Tomorrow Database

No questions

No commitments

Just answers

oOo

The fact that it was only big enough for a wraparound desk was strangely comforting. Just the basics – nothing to evaluate, no back door to watch… not even a storage closet. Everything was laid out in the open: two large computer monitors, a handful of types of scanner, a file cabinet, and high-end printer was the extent of it. He couldn't find any sign of a camera, and the building was old enough, repurposed from its original use, to have a plaster ceiling instead of a dropped one.

There was a small window at the back that he could fit through if it came down to it. Marie couldn't, now that her hips had rounded out – but she was still in Russia and he didn't think he'd have a reason to come back later, so that wasn't relevant.

The girl at the desk smiled at him when he came in – she looked about the same age as Amos, and just as innocent. "Hallo," she greeted cheerfully.

"Hi," he returned in English, testing the waters. He understood Dutch just fine, but speaking it was another matter entirely.

"Can I help you?" she asked gamely in English, leaning forward.

No need for small talk, then. He was all for that. "I've heard you have one of the widest private databases of fingerprints."

She nodded. "It's still the most common emergency method to identify lost children," she agreed. "Did you have a copy of prints you were hoping to scan for a match?"

He forced a tight smile. "Yeah. Mine."

oOo


oOo

October 27th 198 – Sunday – Zurich, Switzerland

"Finally!" A sharp whistle sounded off to his right, along with a few more cheers, and the woman who had been chatting him up started laughing delightedly as well, twisting on her barstool to look back at the dance floor.

Curious, Bruce looked as well. The source of attention seemed to be a young couple that he'd seen a handful of times throughout the evening already who were evidently having a moment in the middle of the room, trying to kiss each other breathless. He smirked and settled back on his heels, glancing up and down the bar to make sure no one was trying to get his attention.

It was a pretty good crowd tonight, and the flavor of the mood was certainly unique. Anonymity did odd things to people's inhibitions at the best of times, but adding it to music and alcohol was another league entirely. The party had only been going for a handful of hours and the night was still young, but already he was enjoying himself more than usual just from the antics of his patrons… And that wasn't even going into the woman in the sexed up Puss in Boots costume that had been trying to make him laugh for the past half hour.

All in all, he found himself understanding the appeal of a masquerade ball far more now than when his boss had announced they were going to run one. Still a hell of a recipe for disaster, but possibly worth it after all.

"This round's on me," announced the man who had yelled, coming up to the bar with a grin. "What've you got for ten shots that won't break the bank?"

"Can you even do shots in that thing?" asked a woman in oriental-style make-up so heavy and stylized that it worked as a mask. He hadn't entirely worked out who she was supposed to be, but he was pretty sure the style of tunic and leggings was authentic Chinese, in direct contrast to the pair of very obviously plastic sabers strapped across each other at the back of her waist.

The 'thing' in question was the ridiculous Venetian mask the blonde man was wearing with a nose about eight inches long – which he had bumped into just about everything conceivable throughout the night.

He scowled at her. "Once again? Not my idea."

"When you said you had something to wear," the green-eyed Phantom of the Opera announced with a smirk as he came to lean on the counter next to him, "we didn't think you'd confused 'high-end masquerade' with 'lame costume party.'"

"We had to improvise," Puss in Boots informed him sagely, facing the bar again and leaning back in a fluid motion to sip at her drink, causing her skirt to hitch a dangerously high.

"And yet none of you will own up to who owned this thing."

"Darling, it's art," purred a woman with an ornate silver eye mask platinum blonde hair that he was mostly sure was a wig, it was so perfectly white, topped with a silver tiara he wasn't actually sure was costume jewelry. "You should feel lucky I let them take it off my wall for the cause."

He groaned. "I should have guessed." Facing Puss, he pointedly said, "I still don't think I deserve this."

"Sweetheart," she drawled, voice dripping with honey, "you showed up with a bear snuggie. You can live with the nose of shame." Bruce snorted in spite of himself, and the woman winked at him. Like the Chinese woman, she had chosen make-up over a mask, though a better term might have been face paint – thick, intricate eyeliner extended to the far edges of her face in feline shapes and whiskers were painted across her cheeks. She had some sort of false nails on, black, long and filed to points to act as claws, but she hadn't fumbled a glass once so far. Her long sleeves were the kind that came to a point over the backs of her hands and had a loop to slip over her middle fingers, but didn't cover her shoulders, instead leaving them bare and only connecting to her corset style top through the armpit.

…He might have spent a little too long staring at her already tonight, but in his defense, she'd also been encouraging it.

A redhead in a golden eye mask of a similar style to the platinum blonde and a fanciful golden circlet came up on the other side of Puss. He'd talked to her a few times tonight, but now, seeing her and the blonde at the same time, he realized that the two costumes must be coordinated somehow. She rested a hand on one hip of the full, medieval style gown she was wearing and declared. "That's it then, so I win. I demand my dues."

"Hold up," the Phantom protested. "That's debatable, and besides, give everyone time to get here."

"I was closest," the redhead argued, though she seemed relaxed enough as she leaned over to take a sip of Puss's drink, humming appreciatively as the other woman let her.

"Mu had it for early October," he insisted. "You're the third week of November, and this might be the first time they've kissed, but they totally skipped first base and went straight for second last week."

A Roman centurion sitting a ways down the bar minding his own business spat out his water at that, red plume on his helmet swaying as he jerked his head towards them. "Wait, what?"

The French courtier sitting next to him, one seat closer to the rest – who had insisted that he was the Count of Monte Cristo to anyone who asked – started laughing hard. "Yeah they did."

Puss cackled. "You caught it on film?"

"Had to delete it or I'm pretty sure he would've murdered me on the spot," he confirmed happily. "It wasn't even that interesting, honestly, but the man's a prude."

Eying the blonde man in the fine-pressed mafia pinstripes and fedora currently getting handsy with the woman in the steampunk getup on the dance floor, Bruce found that statement a little hard to believe. Then again, anonymity, he reminded himself. And he hadn't served either of them anything tonight, but that didn't mean Karissa hadn't, or that none of their apparently large entourage had passed something along. Anonymity plus liquid courage can do a lot.

"And this is all only if we don't count her sitting on him until he promised to never leave, back in September, as the start of the relationship," Puss added in a gleeful tone. "Or the high school nonsense they've been up to for the month since."

"She did what?" the redhead demanded in a huff, pouting. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Puss shrugged. "Waiting for the right moment," she demurred, looking very pleased with herself.

"Or trying to get us to bet more."

Her smirk widened. "We'll never know."

"Or," the redhead interjected. "You're lying."

Puss smiled deviously, unbothered. "Ask Leia, if you like."

"How much is in on this, exactly?" the Chinese woman asked. "All I ever knew was that it got a little ridiculous."

The Count snickered, standing up and coming closer. "More than a little, I'd say."

"Enough to buy a small car," the Phantom agreed. "Nothing too high end, but not a junker either."

The woman arched a nonplussed brow. "You really must have been desperate."

"Well, a considerable portion came from our two Fairy Queens trying to outdo each other," Puss added conspiratorially.

Ah. Bruce supposed he could see that, now that it had been pointed out to him – Summer gold and the red spectrum for the redhead, Winter silver and cool tones for the blonde.

"I make it a habit of donating to good causes," Queen Winter informed them haughtily.

"That and if the stakes got high enough, you hoped someone might push the envelope," the Chinese swashbuckler added dryly.

"Multiple attainable goals, my darling pirate, is simply good business sense," the taller woman returned smugly. "And as you have won, I hardly think you should complain."

Chinese pirate. He was still coming up blank, though he supposed that could count as a costume all on its own. "Are you folks planning to enter the costume contest?" he asked warmly. Aside from the Venetian, it looked like they had all put forward a fair amount of effort.

The Chinese pirate snorted. "We showed up with a woman dressed up as a cat in fuck-me boots and a miniskirt. Is there a point in trying?"

"You're just upset your feet are too small to wear these," Puss decided, crossing her legs and emphasizing the flash of skin between her thigh high stilettos and pleated skirt, the genuine – and peace-bound with zip-ties because his boss wasn't a complete moron – rapier hanging from a belt at her waist swaying slightly at the motion.

He really needed to stop letting her steal all his attention.

"I'm really not," the other woman argued with a laugh. "I'm not sure I could spend an hour in those without trying to use them to kill somebody." She eyed the other woman's thighs. "And I've never worn something that short outside a bedroom."

"Suit yourself," Puss returned smoothly, delicately sipping at her drink again.

"Ah, there are different categories," Bruce explained, tearing his eyes away from the woman again and reminding himself that he was here to work. "Six, and separated for gender. You can't win more than one."

"Ooh, I want to stay, then," the Count decided, looking back to the Centurion. "Rome?"

"I can handle driving," the other man assured him, holding up his water glass. "It's my turn anyhow, right?"

"Feeling vain?" Puss teased.

"Hey, I let someone," he looked pointedly over at Queen Winter, "dress me up like a damn goose for this. I might as well rock it for all it's worth."

"You look dashing, darling," the woman assured him, tapping at the bar to catch Bruce's attention. "Another cranberry, please."

"Tame," Puss pointed out lightly.

"I had something earlier," Winter returned dismissively. "And I like my wits about me." She bumped her hip against the woman standing next to her. "I'll have the money transferred to you in the morning, before you head for the spaceport." Tipping her head, she added, "I'm not sure there will be much to spend it on, where you're going, but it's yours all the same."

"Oh, you're going to space?" Bruce asked curiously. "To the army?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Honorable discharge – turns out one of my cousins made it out of Santa Barbara and settled in L5. Her new husband is willing to vouch for my visa."

"Nice." He heard colonial living was almost normal, these days. And he'd noticed the lack of accent that most western Americans had, but it was rude to ask. Since she'd as good as said it though – the honorable discharges available for those with surviving colonial family were only offered to Americans – an idea struck him. "Hey… What's your poison?"

"Vodka, these days," she admitted with a grimace. "Everything else is too expensive."

"But you're rich tonight," he reminded her, gesturing back at the rather extensive display of liquors behind him. "So what do you like?"

A smile tugged at her painted lips. "Once upon a time?" Her mouth widened into a brilliant grin. "Bourbon."

He nodded at that, taking stock of what they had in house at the moment. "I have a few of those." They were getting more and more rare now with no one growing corn in a serious way, though a couple of distilleries in Africa had been making a stab at it. "American?"

"Honey," the woman drawled. "It's not bourbon if it didn't come out of Kentucky."

"Get a room!" someone called laughingly.

"And that's my cue," the Centurion decided, standing and settling his plastic armor. "I'm going to go play getaway driver." He gestured at the Count. "Keys."

"Hey, they're back to just dancing again," the Phantom argued, watching over one shoulder. "Don't hustle them out yet if they want to stay longer." He gestured at the other man. "And stop acting like you don't know us; sit a little closer."

"Additionally," Queen Winter pointed out, "We can order a cab for the lovebirds. Or Mars. So you can have a drink, if you like."

"Especially if Cheng Shih here is actually buying and willing to share rare whiskey," the Venetian added. "I know you've still got a bottle of Sinatra Jack Daniels stashed somewhere."

"That's for if my sister or I ever get married," the Centurion argued immediately. "Though if neither of us have when she's thirty-eight, I'm allowed to sell it."

"That's oddly specific," the Phantom commented.

"Moretti family tradition," the man explained. "And we made a deal."

"If you really never meant to drink it, you'd leave it with your mom," the Venetian protested.

"My mom is not a Moretti and doesn't understand."

"…This is one of those frat house pacts you two made while drunk out of your minds, isn't it?"

"I plead the fifth."

"Go Buckeyes!"

"Oh, shut up."

"I think," the Chinese woman – Cheng Shih, he was going to have to look that up before the contest – announced loudly. "That we have all suffered waiting for this. So." She turned bright eyes back on Bruce. "I don't suppose you have a bottle of Mitcher's stashed away that will cost me less than a not junker car?"

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oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

"You had better either desperately need me, or be ready to grovel."

"Ah… A little of both?" Adam offered tentatively, walking into the garage portion of the little house Duo ran his business out of. "Odin already lectured me, among others, if that helps."

Hilde groaned, and he heard springs squeak as she apparently sat up in bed. "Where are you?"

"It's not urgent," he admitted quickly. "But it would be cool if you could head this way tomorrow."

"Yeah, but where?"

"Amsterdam."

"…Oh." Another sound of springs – maybe she'd dropped back down on the mattress? "You really did get lectured, then."

"Both angry and educational," he agreed. "Figured I'd stay the rest of the week for more of the latter, though, and thought you might be interested too."

"Well, it's as good an excuse as any, though I'll need to check over my shit to see if I actually can," she allowed. "Just…" She huffed out a deep sigh. "What the fuck, man? Seriously?"

"I'm going to claim blind panic," he decided tiredly, considering the car parked in the garage for a long moment before opening the door on the passenger side and climbing in. Everyone had already gone back to the Devils' Den for the night, so he didn't need the privacy, but this seemed… safer. "I can't really tell you what I was thinking, because I'm not sure I was." He licked his lips. "I am sorry, though."

She sighed again, though less explosively this time. "Yeah, whatever… Odin lectured you?"

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that. He says he was with your CO when you called in. I didn't think he was working with you guys."

Hilde groaned. "He's not, mostly? Like, he does us favors sometimes, or asks for them, but he's not really with us either. More than you, I guess, but I'm pretty sure that's only because he's sleeping with my boss."

Huh. "He is?"

She yawned. "Yeah, well, I'm mostly sure he is, at least. Lou doesn't kiss and tell, so I can't be one hundred percent, but they're giving off all the signs."

Lou? That could be a name, or short for practically anything. Hilde had refrained from ever giving him a name for her General before this – even a gender. And the name didn't ring any bells – not that that meant anything, with his memory. "What signs?" he asked instead, because nothing had stood out about Odin while he'd still been in town.

"Ugh, never mind, you'll get it once see them in the same room. Look, I'm half asleep; can I call you back in the morning?"

"Sure," he agreed. Biting down on his lip, he added, "I am sorry."

"Yeah, sure you are," she returned in a grumpy tone. "Tell me again tomorrow." The line disconnected.

Well, it's a start.

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oOo

October 28th 198 – Monday – Zurich, Switzerland

Jake blinked awake, disoriented. It was later than he usually got up, and he frowned at the unfamiliar ceiling over him before registering the weight against his chest and arm- then sucked in a deep breath as he remembered.

Relena, snuggled tightly against his side with her head pillowed in the curve of his shoulder, was more beautiful than ever. Still sound asleep, her lips were curved in a gentle smile – good dreams, he supposed. She was still wearing her jewelry from last night – earrings he'd given her for her birthday and a bracelet from after they'd come back from space, her neck bare except for marks he'd managed to make on it last night.

He swallowed hard; he was going to have to start being more careful of that. He hadn't thought he'd been rough, but he didn't exactly have the experience to know how much delicacy was required. He'd been following Lena's cues more than anything, and while that made a fantastic guideline that he was more than happy to follow, she was still royalty and appearances had to be kept.

Though, knowing Dorothy and Mai, they had probably already bought appropriate make-up for until he could figure out the details. God help him but he was resigned to the two of them meddling for the rest of his life now, so he might as well take solace in the helpfulness he'd traded his privacy for by falling in love with a princess. He'd just about died when Mai conversationally informed him that she'd put Relena on birth control before they'd left to pick up Leia – apparently telling her it was one of the required new vaccinations for entering colonial territory.

He was starting to get intimately familiar with the sensation of wanting to simultaneously throw up at the exposure while being grateful for the forethought. That… For all that it proved unnecessary because he had self-control, damn it, a lapse there would have been the last thing they needed right now. Major Marakesh had a talent for thinking ahead and laying heavy foundations for the future, and she had more than lived up to her reputation – on all accounts, for better or worse – since coming on board. The fact that it was literally impossible to embarrass the woman meant that she handled delicate matters with the aplomb of a seasoned nurse – blunt, manipulative, overwhelmingly practical, and competent in a way that terrified most men into immediate obedience. Then Lin's seeming immunity to her particular brand of bullshit made them complement each other in a way that couldn't have worked out better if he'd planned it.

Ghosting his free hand over Relena's cheek, he felt like his heart was doing something dangerously acrobatic. He'd built a good team to protect her… to protect them, protect this, and he was proud of that, but this… He still didn't understand the scope of everything he felt for Relena, and he wasn't sure he was ever going to.

Maybe he wasn't supposed to – that was at least part of the definition, wasn't it? He'd believed in things before, wanted them enough to put his life on the line in the absolute way that meant he'd done little more than blink as death scraped past him by an inch, but this

It was one thing to be willing to die for something, but another entirely, he realized, to be willing to do anything at all to live for it.

He ran a hand over her hair, wanting to twine it through his fingers, but they'd found out the annoying way that the hair spray Olivia had used to keep the spiraling curls they had styled it into made for a nasty tangle. The motion was still a little too much like petting her, though, so on the second sweep he dragged his nails lightly along her scalp – she made a happy little noise and nuzzled at his shoulder like a cat, shifting legs that were half wrapped around his own.

I'm going to enjoy getting used to this. Craning his neck for the right angle, he tipped her head a little to kiss her. They'd both honestly been too pent up, too frantic last night to really consider technique, but he tried now, pulling gently at her lower lip and licking into the seam of her mouth until she started to sleepily respond, shifting her weight and leaning into it, pressing a hand to his jaw and pulling him back when he tried to retreat. The smell of her was overpowering, rain and something soft and sweet, maybe floral, the same as it had ever been but more, and it was addicting as fuck.

No wonder people had always talked about kissing like it was some kind of end all. It had always seemed like an arbitrary bit of romantic drivel, but now that he'd done it? Wow.

"Good morning," she breathed against his lips, eyes still hazy with sleep, but lazily satisfied in a way he'd ever seen before.

Taking the chance to catch his breath, he slid one hand down her side underneath the blankets, trailing down her hip and thigh before tracing back up to rest a palm against the small of her back as he shifted onto his side. "That it is," he agreed quietly, bringing her flush up against him before he dove into her mouth again, body thrumming with the way she arched against him, one hand buried in his hair and the other arm wrapping low around his waist as she drove their hips together. She giggled at him when he gasped, doing it again so he growled-

His cell phone rang – generic tune, not someone in his contacts.

"Don't you dare answer that," she ordered, tugging at him so he rolled on top of her, throwing the blankets back.

"As you command," Jake returned, drinking in the sight of her, running his thumbs along the dips in her pelvis so she shivered. It wasn't like he'd intended to do anything different, but something in him thrilled at being given the order. He grinned, lowering his mouth to her belly, suppressing a chuckle as a shudder wracked through his princess' body. He didn't have anything that could go critical on the boil right now.

They could leave a message – he was busy.

oOo


oOo


Recognition


oOo


Reunions! Revelations! Jake is going to sit and listen to that voicemail something like five times in a row before he really registers it, for the record. When he gets around to checking his voicemail. Because he and Relena are technically off the map for another two days, and he might just not come up for air until then.

Trying to write all of Relena's people in one place at one time is seriously like herding cats, people, without even getting into the subject matter. They're kinda fantastic, but keeping them on task while still talking is exhausting. Writing the gundam boys actually interacting with each other again also leaves me feeling all boss, because really, badassery just abounds. Otherwise, Jake is finally over his shit, Odin is acknowledging he has shit to get over (maybe?), Duo's sorta accidentally taking over a country's underworld, and Marie is unintentionally intimidating people. Also, some maybe ominous stuff going on in the background.

I'm curious, though, if anyone noticed that Jake's issues with Jack were largely him being psychotic rather than valid, before this chapter. Was kinda running a writing experiment to see if using the twisted perspective of a trusted character could make someone who's honestly just sane and responsible seem like a total asshole – helped along by the fact that he's human and has a temper and Jake knows exactly how to push his buttons. If you realized before having it spelled out for you, I suppose the next question is when. Because however much affection Jake and "Junior" hold for the late Odin Lowe, their childhood… was some really fucked up shit. Should be fun to see if, after getting over the "holy shit, he's alive" they fall into a panic of "oh fuck, he's not a murdering sociopath, is he?"

…Crap, now I need to start plotting the next one. Please say something?