Mayday
Mayday is a distress call that is used to signal a life-threatening emergency, usually on a ship or a plane, although it may be used in a variety of other situations. A typical distress call will start with the word "mayday" being said three times in a row so that it is not mistaken for another similar-sounding word or phrase. It originated from the French word "m'aider" that means "help me", which in itself is a shortened form of "venez m'aider", meaning "come and help me". The distress call has absolute priority over all other transmissions.
A/N: I was working on something else I swear...
Prompts: Tea, drinking, and a random advertisement on sleeping aid.
Flufftober #15: Emergency, confession, adventure. Well, maybe not so much on the last part.
Soundtrack: Coldplay x BTS - My Universe. The holo part, at least, is real.
The beeping sounds from her link indicated an incoming call.
Relena glanced at it, noting that there was no caller name displayed. She placed her hand on the touchpad, pressing the busy button, pulling her focus back to her work screen.
The automatic screening program didn't seem to rule the call out as spam. But as a rule of thumb, she was not in the habit of answering calls from unknown numbers.
"Foreign Ministry office, Relena Darlian call assistant speaking," the pre-recorded message droned on. "Please state your name and the reason for the call…"
She was about to swipe to the next page of the presentation when a man's voice came on.
"Princess, help."
That got her full attention. Recognizing the owner of the voice, she pressed the accept call button.
"I'm here," she said, hastily risen to her feet.
"Can you talk?" She quickly eyed the door, then the surveillance camera.
"Hold on, please."
Walking over to the door, she keyed a code in to the control panel. PRIVACY MODE SELECTED. PLEASE INPUT YOUR PERSONAL IDENTIFICATION.
She pressed one hand onto the panel. SCANNING… AUTHENTICATION COMPLETE. There was the subtle sound of the lock turning. DOORS ARE SECURED.
She walked back to her desk, shooting one last order, "Monitoring off."
ACKNOWLEDGED. SOUND AND CAMERA OFF. HEAT AND MOTION SENSOR ON.
She switched her work link status from 'In a call' to 'Do not disturb'. Pulling the call screen to her main screen, she turned off the Live Transcript menu. The wavy blue circle went dark. A white message popped up: 'Transcription ended. Click the link to download the file.'
She sat back down, clicking a few buttons to delete the transcription log. Better safe than sorry.
Unmuting herself, she said, "Back. I don't think you are supposed to call me on this line."
There was a rustling noise on the other end of the call. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
She turned on the vid. Duo's unsmiling face appeared on the screen. The room behind him was too dark to make out where he was.
"It's Heero," the former pilot said tensely. "He has resorted to crazy things."
She searched his face. Duo did a decent job keeping his face straight, but she had caught the higher pitch of annoyance at the end. Relena visibly relaxed.
"Has he?" she asked. "No more than the usual, I hope."
The grave façade dropped. "You are being way too calm about this," he grumbled.
"Well," she returned, folding her hands on her work desk. Erasing the indulgent smile, she adopted an apprehensive look, striking just the right balance of concern and anxiety. "It sounds troubling. How can I be possibly of help?"
Her friend nodded a grudging approval, hiding away a grin. "That's more like it."
She smiled back. "Is it life-threatening?"
"Life-changing, more like. He has started drinking, using."
That, she didn't expect. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's all your fault, you know."
"I'm afraid I don't," she replied, more concerned than amused now. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"You really have no idea?"
"Not the faintest notion," she confirmed.
"Didn't you send that in the last mail?"
"What mail?" she asked confusedly.
"The supplies?" Duo prompted.
"The Preventers' supply package?" she clarified.
He gave a decisive nod. "That's the one."
"There was no alcohol."
"Not alcohol," he said dismissively.
"There weren't any drugs either." She was fairly sure of that. Some medications, but... No. It couldn't be. Surely not the sleeping pills?
"Not drugs."
She paused. Sitting up straighter, she gave her friend a hard stare. "Duo. Can you just tell me, what exactly is happening?"
The commanding order worked. "He has started drinking tea."
She sighed. "You worried me for a second."
Duo shook his head ruefully. "You still ain't getting it, I can tell."
"Well, I get that no one is in any particular danger."
"Just my sanity and overall well-being," he said dramatically. Relena smiled.
"Now 'bout the tea," he continued. "It's the loose leaf kind. The one that needs special thingy to brew."
"Strainer," she supplied. "I still fail to see—"
"That you did send," he cut her off with a dirty look. "Strainers. Plural. With cups to match."
"Just thought you might not have those at the base." Those were meant for individual use. She figured it would be more practical than teapots. Somewhat. "Are they of any use, then?"
"Oh he is using it fer sure," he said wryly. "Twice a day. Morning and afternoon."
Hm. Unexpectedly. "And this is concerning because...?"
"Yeah, well, I." Duo rubbed his neck. "Ain't used to be party to this kind of things. Whaddya call it again? High tea?"
"Just tea."
"And he actually asked if I'd like some!"
"That's…" she trailed, weighing on an acceptable response, landing on, "Terrible."
She was terribly sorry to miss that. Too bad. Tucking back a smile, she said, "I think he is just being nice."
"Creepy is more like it." Duo shook his head, despairing. This one or that one, these two were equally and certifiably hopeless cases. "I think he is missing you."
Relena gave him a non-committal smile. "You are reading into things. He might just be sick of coffee."
"Like the guy is ever sick of anything. He never even catches a cold."
"It is a good thing not to catch anything bad," she replied smoothly. "And speaking of catching things..."
She raised one hand in a shushing motion, fell silent, and slowly moved that forefinger to one ear.
"Crap," Duo cursed voicelessly.
"Heero?" he hollered. "Great night eh, buddy? Working late?" To the screen, he mouthed, "He's up."
Relena nodded, mouthing back. "Thought so."
"Think he's getting hot water," Duo said out of the corner of his mouth, peeking into the hallway. "Make that thrice per day."
Before she could react, Duo pulled back into the room suddenly. One hand clutching his chest, he muttered another voiceless, and this time rather sacrilegious utterance. God's name, and all that.
He shot her a resentful look through the screen. "He has a sixth sense, I tell ya."
She maintained a straight face. "Good hearing, more like." Then quietly, "I'd better—"
"Oh no, you don't." He walked back to the desk, in his rarely used its-serious-business voice saying, "Don't you go hanging up on me now, missy. This is a fire call situation."
There went her chance to escape. "Right," she said instead, assuming her eye-of-the-storm optimism. "SOS. Mayday. Not a drill. Got it."
"Tch. He's coming over," Duo clicked his tongue, continuing to rummage through the drawer, pulling cables out. "On the holo, princess."
Relena blinked. "I— Yes?"
"Volumetric cams. You have 'em at your place, don't ya?" He looked up to shoot her an urgent look, "Quick. I'm plugging the projector in."
How he thought it would make any difference she couldn't understand. And she really needed him to stop calling her work line.
"Lena. Get on it."
Duo didn't call her actual name that often. Knowing better than to question him in that dire of a situation, she did as she was bade to do. It was really hard to follow her friend's line of thought sometimes.
Not a second too soon, it seemed.
"Hullo bud."
The room turned more visible. She suspected it was not only due to Duo flipping the holo projector on, but also because Heero had hit the light switch as he entered the room. The overall lighting wasn't exactly bright, but it was enough to make out people, and the bare walls behind them.
"Good timing," he waved him over. "Come check out the holo. Image comes out pretty crisp, don't ya think? Fer a long distance call."
Relena gauged their positions, shifting to place herself, so the holographic projection of her faced the right direction.
Heero eyed the compact projector, then the laptop screen. Duo moved the projector so it sat in front of the laptop cam, just under, making eye contact more natural. "Hn."
"Just makin' a call to share some updates," he threw Duo a suspicious look. "A verbal report, if you will."
The zero two pilot grinned at the screen. Relena smiled her best politician smile.
"Ain't no gossip, I swear," he said, only to be met by a dry, disbelieving stare. Duo rolled his eyes. "Eeeesh, fine. Told her you miss her, buddy."
Heero shifted to stare at her. She tilted her head to look back at him, her expression unchanged.
"Coz you ain't likely going to," Duo concluded, patting himself on the shoulder. "You can thank me."
Heero's response, or the lack of it, showed that he was neither remotely impressed nor grateful.
Looks were exchanged, but no word was spoken.
"Tick tock. Tick tock." Not one to withstand an uncomfortable silence, Duo broke it first. "Tick tock," he added for good measure, wiggling both forefingers.
Slowly spinning towards the cam, Duo grimaced. He went to shake the heavy duty metal desk, miming an impending implosion. "Zero two to Houston. Zero two to Houston. We have a problem," he telegraphed, amidst the resulting chaos. "Send out the rescue squad. Notify my next of kin."
Goodness gracious. Duo.
While Heero was busy contemplating ten different ways to get his closest comrade to shut up, and at least one to do so permanently, no doubt, Relena was fully occupied trying not to laugh her head off.
Heero took a step forward.
Turning back to him, Duo simply said, "Camera." Pointed at her, reminding, "Witness."
Finally winning her valiant battle against laughter, Relena took a breath. She supposed she needed to do something to help defuse the situation. Preferably before Heero made good on whatever thought he had in his head.
She coughed politely, lowering the fist from her mouth, opening it to speak.
Heero beat her to it. In a flat tone, saying, "Thank you."
His tone was too void of emotion to sound sincere, too deadpan to be a joke.
"Urgh!" Duo reacted immediately, breaking into goosebumps. She couldn't help but laugh this time. It was just that hilarious.
Duo watched his best friend's face, getting a blank 'now what' look. He put both hands on his hips, stuck his chest out, and in an artificially cherry, loud tone replied, "You're welcome!"
That got him a slightly less bland, irritated look. Turning away, Duo went to complain to the only person in the room who actually listened to him, physical presence be damned. "Y'see what I mean? Gives me the willies, he does."
Relena shook her head at him, smiling.
"And ain't him getting creepier by the second," he said, glancing back.
Heero crossed his arms in front of him, sending a pointed stare towards the open doorway, silently exuding signs he was about to exhaust his short supply of patience on polite niceties.
"Oooh, that's not a good look," he decided. Relena had to agree. "Exiting now. Cover me, princess."
He dashed to flee the room without even waiting for her reply. "Thanks for calling, Duo," she called out earnestly. "Would you like me to check in on Hilde for you?"
He stopped in his hasty retreat, freezing in motion. Backtracking a few steps, he leaned back, just enough to pop back into the corner of her screen.
"If you could," he grinned. "Tell her I am partial to coffee."
"I'm sure she knows that already."
"The one she makes every morning," he winked.
She chuckled. "I get the message. She misses you too, Duo."
He brightened at the disclosure. "Ain't that grand. I'mma borrowing your link, pal."
Duo went out, leaving them to an extensive moment of silence.
"So," Relena began.
Moving from his spot at the farther back of the room, Heero said, "I don't know why he can't use his own."
"Not at this very moment, I say," was her mild return.
When he got closer to the screen, she could see his brow was furrowed into a scowl.
"I don't know why he can't mind his own." But there wasn't much heat in his sentence.
She smiled. "It is called being friendly." In a gently teasing tone, she commented, "It's nice to know how you are faring."
He dragged a stool over and sat himself on it. "I sent messages."
" 'Making good progress'," she mimicked. " 'Doing fine.' Like that?"
He smirked. "You get the idea. Is everything okay?"
"Just so."
Another moment of silence, where they exchanged quiet looks.
Searching for a topic of conversation, she said, "I didn't know Duo has a projector for holo."
He shrugged.
"Do you suppose he has the cams for it as well?"
He did a brief scan of the laptop, before replying, "Probable." Flicking the desk light on, he went to stand up. "Not enough light."
"No, no," she hurried to say. "That's quite all right."
Holo call required a 360-degree, volumetric camera capture, something that needed time to install. They didn't have that much time.
He sat back down.
There was another quiet pause.
"You got the tea," she commented, looking at the cup, resting on the desk.
"I did."
She smiled. "Time. Isn't it late?"
It was. The hour was late, the water was getting cold, and he was wasting a perfectly brewed cup of tea. Which he ought not to even make, this late in the night. He said nothing in defense.
She didn't seem bothered by that. By him, just sitting there, not saying a word.
He watched her image flickered above the projector. She was in her usual suit, sans the blazer. He imagined she was at the office, most definitely in the middle of something else, before getting interrupted by the call.
She had better things to do at work. So did he. But.
He didn't make a move.
"Do you miss me?"
He stood up, uncrossing his arms. Placing both hands on the desk, on either side of the projector, he sighed heavily.
He detested it. The question.
And the futility of it.
"I do."
Do, did, done. Am. The tenses didn't really matter all that much in rotation.
"You can call me."
"I can't. Time difference."
A wave of static entered the line, breaking the comm. "Just a few minutes is fine."
"It isn't." He leaned down. "It is not fine."
Another crackling, staticky noise. He raised one hand up, touching over the screen. Her image blurred in a rainbow-colored haze before refocusing.
A futile effort. But still.
"Relena."
"Sorry. Just..." Her voice was so brittle, breaking over the speakerphone. Yet another static over the transmission. Except that it couldn't be, the image was connected all along. "One moment."
In three-dimension he could perceive slight movements more clearly. How she turned to the side, swallowing, blinking back tears. How her shoulders trembled slightly as she inhaled.
"You don't like calls. Vids." She threw him a sideways smile, one that was somewhat wobbly. "I know."
"I like calls," he refuted. "I like seeing you." He just didn't like not being there with her.
She gave him a watery laugh. "Yes, I see. Just not the talking part?"
A few tears were breaking through, rolling down the corners of her eyes.
"Yeah." And making her cry. That, too.
"I get it," she nodded understandingly.
He rather thought she did. One way or another, she always did. He could see her composing herself across the screen.
When she spoke again, her voice had returned to a lighter, teasing tone. "Half an hour of not talking. I can see how it may seem odd."
"If," he started.
He didn't finish the sentence. Sometimes he did want to. Give in. Pick up the link and call. However much worse the yearning was to be after.
She smiled softly. "I'll be okay with that."
It helped, a little. Just knowing. He could see her if he wanted to. Hear her voice whenever. Astronomical units apart but a single call away. He smiled back.
On his part, he could try better too. She deserved more than half an hour of a non-conversation.
"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked.
"Hm..." she paused, one hand in front of her chin, considering. "I can think of a few things. But nothing that can't wait until you are back."
Lowering that hand, she smiled. "Anything you want to talk to me about?"
He wasn't much of a conversationalist.
After a brief thought, he said, "I'm running out of tea."
"Well then—"
"You don't need to send anymore."
She gave a startled pause. He winced inwardly.
The mission, with some serious elbow grease, shouldn't take that much longer. He should have said that plainly. Conversation was hard.
"I see." Her response was a look of worry, blended with careful consideration. Neither was the reaction he was going for. "Don't push yourself too hard."
But of course, that was her. He gazed at her wonderingly. Some things about her were nothing short of admirable.
And just as much concerning. He frowned. "You too."
She laughed at that. "You just worry about yourself."
She wasn't one to put herself first. That lack of self concern. Wished as he could, he wasn't able to change how she was. Or stop finding it lovely.
"No resorting to what Duo calls 'crazy' things, all right?" A light quip, if not for how it was delivered.
She had her way of conveying many things through a single sentence. With different tones, diction. The emphasis on certain words, the slightest pause. A certain look in her eyes.
"Please."
She knew how to compel people to obey. With just one word, just like that.
"Aa." What was he to do but to agree?
Pausing, he thought better and went to add, "You too."
She smiled teasingly. "I'd argue that in my case, trouble is usually the one that comes to find me."
He couldn't laugh at that. At all.
Seeing his reaction, she dropped all pretense, gently said, "Not something to make light of. I know."
He stared at her at length.
"I'll be all right." She stared back at him, "I promise."
He nodded.
"Have a good night." She looked down, presumably to check the clock. "Or rather, good morning. I'd better let you rest now."
"Aa." And that was that. All too short.
"Heero?" she called out.
"Hm?"
"About the tea. I prefer the one you make too."
Inhale. "Understood," he heard himself say. "We can take turns."
"Sounds good," she replied warmly. "Take care, Heero."
The projector went off, bringing the room a shade darker. She was gone.
He stared at the dial pad. Duo saved her in his contact under an alias. Cousin-in-law, with a crown icon. A little too obvious, he should give him a warning. A friendly warning.
That mental note did nothing to detract from the hollowness in his chest.
Miss you too. Miss you so.
There was some knocking, followed by, "I'm done with your laptop."
He went to his feet, wryly asking, "Done eavesdropping too?"
Duo gave him a sheepish smile.
"Didn't mean to. Honest," he said, for once wholeheartedly apologetic. He walked into the room. "I did go to your room, used your laptop."
Duo went to unplug the holo projector, making a production of rolling up the cable, putting the protective wrappers back around the disc. Done placing things back in the second drawer, he looked back meaningfully, patting the front, before sliding it shut. A standing, non-verbal offer that Heero could borrow it anytime.
"Hn."
Leaning one hip against the desk, he went on to continue, "Made that call. Couldn't get through. Left her a voicemail." Duo rattled those sentences in a rapid sequence, making a counting gesture with one hand. Balling it into a fist, he sighed defeatedly. "Happens all the time."
He felt he owed it to Duo to listen. And it wasn't like he couldn't relate.
"Harder to catch her, I bet?"
He gave him a brief lift of one shoulder. "Normally."
"Figures," Duo commented. "Gotta be the case, unless it's an emergency."
He pinned him with a stare.
Duo raised both hands up in surrender. "Hey. I asked, 'kay? She could've hung up."
She didn't. He had to give him the point.
"Long distance sucks, doesn't it?"
"Hn."
"The secret of all that insane workaholism, huh," Duo said, half to himself. "Kinda get you, though."
He glanced at him, then coughed awkwardly.
"Man, listen to me." The other pilot rocked on his heels, cocking his head to one side, then to the other. "I'm not usually this sappy. Must be catching it from you, tough guy."
He couldn't stand still, Duo, especially when feeling nervous or awkward.
Masking the discomfort, he threw a friendly punch to one shoulder. One Heero would typically dodge and dismiss. He caught it with both hands instead.
Recognizing the move, Duo's eyes widened.
"Uuhhh," he dragged the one syllable on, ending on a notably higher pitch. "I still need that arm," he entreated, plastering a grin that revealed too many teeth. Tentatively added, "For the mission?"
Deeming it suffice for that friendly warning, he let go.
Duo raised both eyebrows. He threw him a look before picking up his cup and making his way to the door.
"You're awful scary when you are being nice."
"I'm always nice."
"Pfft. Depends on who you ask that to." Finding that funny, Duo snickered. "One person's opinion doesn't make a truth."
"Depends on the one person."
"My teeth!" he wailed. "I need a health allowance working with you, partner. For insulin."
Heero stopped at the door out of courtesy, to listen until the end. Cricket sound effects, made by a human's mouth, was as expected, horribly sounding.
"Hell, laughter, and one Heero Yuy." Duo snorted at his own joke. "I dunno what I expected."
He levelled him a look before heading out.
"Time to make the best use of lonely, sleepless nights?" Duo crackled his knuckles. "I'd better step on it too."
"That's the spirit." With that parting shot, he left his friend to his own devices.
The sooner it took to get things over, the better. For the both of them.
A/N: One astronomical unit is equal to 150 million kilometres or 8.3 light-minutes. The average distance from Earth to the planet Mars is 1.7 au (astronomical units). On a side note, I'm also in dire need of a health care spending account. Now, where is my insulin?