Fallacy
A mistaken belief. The use of invalid or otherwise faulty reasoning in the construction of an argument which may appear to be well-reasoned if unnoticed. — Aristotle, Sophistical Refutations (Greek: Σοφιστικοὶ Ἔλεγχο, romanized: Sophistikoi Elenchoi)
A/N: Non Frozen Teardrop compliant, except for very random elements. Heero and Relena are in an established relationship.
For DoMAYstic 2023 prompt challenge.
Prompts: 'volunteering', 'learning something new', 'crisis'
Secondary prompts that might apply: 'mistaken identity', 'list', 'a small couch'
Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate in life. Fewer still met theirs early. Yet among these lucky ones, does one ever wonder what they are missing out?
He had, apparently, been too sure about himself. In this particular area Heero only had his own self to blame. He had, to a great extent, let himself be lulled, into the false sense of security that came from emotional attachment.
So much for only ever having one romantic partner. So much for being in a committed, monogamous relationship. Here he was, witnessing her kissing another's lips. Of the opposing gender.
It happened one afternoon, at the Darlian estate.
Relena might not be the one initiating the social call. But she had personally taken it upon herself to acquaint the visiting guest to her home. She was the one who issued the invitation to look around her old childhood nursery, conveniently located in the estate's private apartments, next to her bedroom. To the son of Mrs. Darlian's sister. Her cousin, on paper.
She had her arms around said cousin's body. "Yes, love," she said fondly.
"Hmm, what is it? Up?" Still smiling, she levelled her face with his.
That was the moment of truth. Luca Everdeanne, Viscount Western and the future Duke of Kingston, put careless hands on her cheeks and went to give her a sloppy, enthusiastic kiss. Heero stared at them in muted shock.
"Oh, my." Though surprised, her response was awfully mild. She kept her brazen kinsman in a gentle hug.
Turning around, she barely spared him a glance. "Hand me a napkin, please."
Heero, still in dazed disbelief, handed her his handkerchief.
Slowly lowering the two-year-old toddler back onto her lap, she went to dab on the hugging, kissing fiend.
"Goodness, I got some lipstick on you." She was, even in that kind of situation, caring for him first. "Stay still for me, sweetheart. Good. What an angel you are."
Scanning the surroundings, Heero found a box of tissues nearby. He pulled a sheet of paper, folded it into a precise square, then seated himself on the couch, quietly waiting.
When she finally took notice, he ignored her outstretched hand. Placing one hand on her chin, he tipped her face up and meticulously used the clean napkin to wipe her mouth.
Once he deemed it reached an adequate standard of sanitation, he leaned in to press a swift peck on her lips. A perfunctory, disinfecting kiss.
She blinked in genuine surprise. Blue eyes peered up from beneath those long lashes, gauging his expression. "You can't possibly be jealous."
"I'm not," he denied. He was merely cautious.
The corners of her lips turned up slightly. He regretted not lingering longer.
"Do your family have a habit of kissing?" he asked her.
"Well, on the cheek." That was a new information, one that he wasn't sure what to think of. "I don't know where Luca picked up the gesture."
She went to elaborate. From what she knew, it was very unlikely for her straight-laced uncle to come up with the practice. On the other hand, her aunt, Her Grace Claire Everdeanne (née Courtenay), had a wide social circle. And an acute wanderlust.
"It must be from Aunt's acquaintances," Relena concluded. "As adorable as Luca is, Uncle Cornelius doesn't much care for overt displays of affection."
Come to think of it, it wasn't just social propriety that they needed to be careful of.
"I am a little worried. The germs? Luca is too young." They should discourage such behavior. Bad education aside, babies got sick very easily. "I need to talk with Aunt Claire–"
As soon as the sentence came out of her mouth, she stopped. Aunt Claire wouldn't let this kind of teasing material be.
"On a second thought," she backtracked, thinking things over. "Perhaps it is better to pretend this never happened."
"Why?"
"So he doesn't get a permanent black stain in his life." Her dear aunt had, to say the least, none of her husband's prudish tendencies. "Luca and I? If Aunt hears about this, I fear we won't ever live this down."
She would be acquitted of rearing a kissing demon. And that would be the best case scenario. In the worst case scenario, this certain episode would earn her an unending, if sordidly humorous, reputation as a cradle robber. Not an outcome she was looking forward to either way.
Heero stared at her blankly.
"A stain in a person's life," he repeated slowly, as if unable to reconcile that thought. "Kissing you?"
She had to smile at that. So endearing, her Heero. So very sweet. And he was clearly missing the point.
"I am old enough to be his aunt," she answered in a well-reasoned tone. "When Luca reached an age to understand, imagine how the poor boy would feel."
"It might have been his very first kiss," she added feelingly. Wasn't a first kiss sacred? It might not be such a big deal for guys but… It was still terrible of her, ruining the dear boy's future.
Heero doubted the boy would be very upset about it.
He could visualize it, in fact. An older, more mature Relena, adoring a young, handsome lad who followed her around like a lost puppy. Or an affectionate cat. Disturbing picture, that. The kid wasn't related to her by blood. All those endearments suddenly sounded infinitely more grating.
"Don't stare at him like that," Relena chided from his side. "You'll make him cry."
He rearranged his expression into a more pleasant look.
"That's better." She gave him a small smile. "Really. I don't think you need to be concerned about it."
"Hn," he responded. "You like older men."
Relena gaped at him. After a brief second, she demanded, "Where did you get that impression from? Did my mother say something?"
"Not much." Except. "You wanted to marry your father when you were younger."
She gave him an exasperated, indulgent stare. "That's just child talk. You don't think I was serious, do you?"
"I don't know," he said. "People you hold in high regard are all older. Zechs. Marquis Weridge. The minister."
"That's exactly it," she replied patiently. "Respect. Admiration. It has nothing to do with my taste in men."
He had not had nearly enough convincing. "You said I reminded you of your father."
She looked at him, speechless. "I..."
He looked at her expectantly.
"Heero," she said finally. "I don't like older men." Cutting off his line of thought, she quickly added, "Or younger men. Or male terrorists of the same age, in that regard. I only like you."
He didn't hide the satisfied smirk on his face. She sighed. "You were just playing with me, weren't you?"
"Partly," he said. Because he never lied to her.
"Oh well." She dropped a couple light pats on his knee, shaking her head in a concessional 'what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you' expression. "Just so you know."
"Aa," he said in response, pulling her closer on the nursery's small couch. As she leaned into him, a great tension lifted off his shoulders. "And I, you."
She broke into a half-smile. He could almost not mind the baby Casanova still sitting on her lap.
"We really shouldn't be flirting in front of a child." Her voice was almost stern. Turning away, she gently pried her necklace out of the tiny, grabby hands. "No, Luca dear. That's not for eating. Now, where is his pacifier?"
He snatched the pacifier by its beaded clip, uncapping the cover in one swift motion. "Here."
Smiling, she turned the baby to him. He had no problem shoving it into the kid's mouth.
Hear that, kiddo? He directed his most steely, hard look down in a nonverbal warning. No attempting to kiss her again. Not on my watch.
The brat had the gall to laugh at him.
Her aunt, as expected, took immodestly great pleasure in hearing Relena's account. Too sharp to be thrown off-course, she had deftly unearthed the full story. It was, as a matter of fact, not merely an attempt at kissing.
"Aunt Claire?" Relena called.
"I hear you," Claire replied, in between merry laughter. She proceeded to nonchalantly shrug off her niece's concerns. "I was more worried he bit you. Luca is rather moody lately, teething period."
Defeated, Relena turned to her mother, looking for support.
"Claire," her mother half-heartedly admonished.
The dark-haired duchess turned an impish look at her sister. "Yes, sister dearest?"
Mareen, nine years older, knew her own sister well. Since they were very young, chastisement and scolding had the adverse effect of fuelling more mischief. She didn't spend an age covering her baby sister from their severely strict father for nothing.
"It is a cause for celebration, don't you think?" She grinned at her more reserved kinfolk. "Behold. Irresistible charm does run in the family."
The ladies were torn between an expression of reproof and amusement. Mareen managed to look the first. Relena couldn't help showing the latter.
Claire sent Heero an interested look. "Did you get kissed too?"
"No," he informed her. He got some slobber, and more than a few high-pitched keenings, but relatively minor tantrum.
"One of the good days then," Claire nodded, eyes crinkling. "I wonder if girls are easier to raise. Relena, you see, was awfully cute back then. A lovely golden duckling, tailing me around."
Tired of being the butt of jokes, Relena volleyed back, "Have another one then."
She tut-tutted her niece. "For that, I'll have you babysit more often."
"Aunt."
"Is that a protest I hear? Complain, and I will throw old Wilhelm into the bundle." Wilhelm was a half-Persian, half-Norwegian Forest cat. Besides being freakishly intelligent and in possession of a terrible personality, the gold-tipped tabby and white tomcat loved Relena the most.
Mareen shook her head. "I start to worry how Luca will grow up to be."
"Oh I wouldn't worry about it," Claire airily replied. "Don't you know? I think he takes after me."
"God save Cornelius."
Completely unfazed, she winked at her sister. "That's precisely what he said."
"Still a whirlwind, Aunt Claire," Relena commented after seeing her favorite aunt off. "Aren't women supposed to change after having a child? Maternal instincts, and all."
"Some women," Mareen said sagely, "are not meant for a simple life of domesticity."
"Mother," Relena gasped wonderingly. "You sound exactly like Aunt Claire."
"Do I?" She smiled at her daughter. If anything, her daughter was very much similar to Claire. A daring adventuress. A dreamer. An untethered soul, with all the force of a great typhoon.
No longer, perhaps. Mareen looked at the young couple thoughtfully. Just like her younger sister, her beloved daughter was a bit more grounded now. "I'm counting on you."
Relena looked at her quizzically, misunderstanding the comment. "You think she will really drop Luca off with us?"
"Well," she returned mildly. With how Cornelius doted on his son, Mareen didn't think so. But.
Heero, at her side, resolutely nodded.
He quickly made a mental note to notify the house staffs. Add thermal screening in addition to the regular bomb screening. Watch out for a big basket mysteriously dropped off her doorstep. Call him upon sighting, especially if it emitted a wail or a meow.
He wouldn't let Relena fend things on her own.
He seriously considered adding a pacifier to his everyday carry gear. And more than one handkerchief. It was better to come armed.
A/N: Wishing a belated Happy Mother's Day to all mothers! You who gave birth to a child or have a hand in rearing one, as a full-time home maker or otherwise. Paradise, as one wise man said, in all its perfection and glorious imperfection, lies beneath your feet.