A/N: First, I'd like to thank everyone for their patience. I know that it has been a while since I've updated this story. I've just been a little busy. Secondly, in the interim period, this story has been followed and favourited numerous times, I am truly honoured. I've read each and every review countless times, I love hearing what you guys think of the story. That's the best part. I'm so glad that there is such an interest in it and I hope I don't disappoint.
Work
"What we're not doing is asking for special treatment. We're not asking for a plaque or a statue, or even a god damn water fountain! We're just asking for a little bit of acknowledgement of our contributions!"
He was a decent enough speaker. Perhaps a little nasally, with a voice too thin to command the immediate respect of a new listener. He gestured a little too much and he wasn't aware of how the constant smirk on his face worked against him. But he spoke without pause and a good rhythm, with enough strategy in his choice of words and with enough delays and fillers, that it almost made his message seem like something less than pure vitriolic hate.
The well dressed blonde speaker at the front of the lecture hall, speaking to a crowd of about 45, was Quentin Van Der Deen, third son of Rinus Van Der Deen. Rinus was a prominent member of Romefeller and was rumoured to be Duke Dermail's right hand man. After the end of the war, Rinus went into hiding, leaving his family and his fortune behind. In the ensuing years, as the aristocratic class' grip on power waned, so too did their privileges in everyday life. Many families had invested heavily in Romefeller enterprises, only to see their wealth melt away after the destruction of the organization. Disenfranchise and displaced, many of the old aristocracy have grown to be resentful of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation and world government centered in Brussels. Such sentiments were echoed in universities all across northern Europe, the former bulwark of Romefeller.
Quentin was one of the leaders of the Home and Heritage Society at Vustgaarde University, a social club, nominally open to anyone and dedicated to the preservation of the culture and history of the recent past, but nakedly a student-led political organization, largely composed of the children of the old aristocracy, openly and loudly opposed to the policies and rule of the world government. They regularly held rallies and protests on campus, often causing many disturbances and deliberately generating hostility between themselves and the non-aristocratic students. One of their favourite rhetorical targets was Relena Peacecraft, whom they considered a tyrant and a traitor to their class.
"They eat our food, live in our dormitories, study in our lecture halls! Never forget that our forefathers built this university! This is our home! This is our birthright! And none of those incompetent idiots in Brussels and no turncoat ex-princess is ever going to change that!"
The crowd erupted into a frenzy of applause and cheers.
Heero watched from the back of the room near the exit. He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as he could with a baseball cap and a pair of aviator sunglasses but he still got a few stray looks. He couldn't help being Japanese in a European rich kid's club. He recorded the entire speech on his phone and took notes on everything, the way he spoke, his mannerisms, his favourite phrases and words, references he made during his speech, and any implied threats. If he could collect enough evidence to point to a credible threat, maybe they would finally listen to him.
The Valknut
A few hours later
Her office was located on the second floor, the first thing one would see after exiting the main elevators. The architects and her officers both protested against its placement there but in the end she would not be overruled. She had her reasons. Her general disdain for any decision made based off fear, being her primary one. She had always hated cowardice. During her days in OZ, she made that point perfectly clear to each and every one of her subordinates. Although the world had moved on from OZ and the Prussian militarism that was much of its animating force, she, nevertheless, was still very much a soldier. And she suspected that she always would be. She kept a vintage revolver loaded in the first drawer of her desk. If the day should come that this building came under siege, she abhorred the notion of locking herself away in a shelter. No, she wanted to be close to the elevator for the same reason she kept that gun close. She meant to meet the enemy head on.
That wasn't to say that she was some kind of affable populist, like some modern-day Hannibal braving the cold hard winters on foot with his trusted soldiers as they passed through the alps. Une was always one for the traditional hierarchy of command. Those closest to her trusted, respected, and even loved her. But those farther from her, junior agents, SIGINT analysts, and the like, had a rather tepid opinion of their leader. She wasn't Treize, and as poise, confident, and capable as she was, she never managed to capture his charisma. She knew that and perhaps even resented herself for her perceived shortcomings. But she was old and wise enough to know who she was and where she was strong. Her office reflected that self-assuredness and that natural distance. Between the office and the hallway was a large waiting room, manned by her secretary and two guards.
Heero sat in that waiting room and watched the large television mounted on the opposite wall and listened, despite the low volume, to the news commentary on the growing political and social unrest just a few blocks away from The Valknut. He had even seen some of the protesters first hand when he made his way into Brussels on his motorcycle. The general unrest was not isolated to the capital city and was, to a large extent, related to the protest movements that were happening back at the university. Heero had seen this coming months ago, although he wasn't alone in this prediction. And truthfully, he didn't care much for the petty post-war politics of economic austerity and identity reconstruction. Whatever shortcomings of the government of the day paled in comparison to the brutality and oppression of the Alliance.
"You're mother isn't quite finished yet, she said you can wait for her here." The soft voice of the secretary that manned the front desk could faintly be heard saying.
"Great," a familiar voice said sarcastically.
A few moments later, a figure emerged into the empty waiting room. She had grown considerably since last he saw her. She must've been about ten years old now, although she looked much older. He could see it in Mariemaia's face, there was a certain impenetrable gloomy angst that should've been at least been at least a few years off. But war makes you grow up fast, he supposed. Her flaming red hair was longer now as was her face. Gone were the puffy cherub cheeks and the piercing eyes of Treize Khushrenada that made her the perfect front for Dekim's insurrection. The angel of war. Not so much anymore. Now she was just plain old Mariemaia Khushrenada, just another pre-teen girl, dressed in a silly private school uniform, plaid skirt and knee-high socks and all.
For a moment she seemed stunned to see him, afraid even. But she was quick with her mask, quick to affect her perfectly practiced indifference.
"Great," she repeated as she plopped herself down one of the chairs on the opposite side of the room, letting her backpack drop to the ground with a loud thud.
Heero almost smiled at the girl's petulance. He had never quite grown used to the ordinary and the mundane. He had known a life of high-stakes and larger than life personalities. And even if she had been the lesser of those, it still tickled him to see her, the great Mariemaia Khushrenada, master of the Earth and the Colonies for a brief few hours, brought so low. In the end, she was just an ordinary girl. He supposed everyone he ever met was ordinary underneath it all, a fact that he was only now beginning to understand.
"What are you even doing here?" She yelled across the room, maintaining her pointless but all-encompassing teenage hostility.
"I have a meeting with the director," Heero answered.
"The director..." Mariemaia replied with faux-reverence as she slouched and folded her arms across her chest. "Tell her, she's going to have to reschedule the piano lesson. I'm already way late as it is, there's no point in even going now."
"You any good?" Heero asked.
"What?"
"At the piano."
"I don't know... maybe?" Mariemaia replied with a hint of genuine confusion in her voice.
"How's school going?" Heero asked.
"What do you care?" Mariemaia shot back.
"Small talk, I've been told that's what people do in situations like this. I'm trying some new things," Heero replied calmly.
"You're pretending to be human? Ewwww…." Mariemaia recoiled.
"You're pretending to be a petulant teenage girl? Or are you actually a petulant teenage girl? I can't decide which is more pathetic."
"Fuck you."
"Fine, you don't want to talk. I get it. Thought at least you might want to try with someone who knows what it's like. But whatever, have it your way."
They sat in silence for a few moments, a tense stand off accentuated by the faint sounds of the TV news. Finally she broke, he knew she would. Heero had an ability to read people like her, like himself, those born in the flames of war. Those who weren't quite welcome in this new world. He guessed that she was having a hard time of it as well, although it didn't take a genius to connect her current attitude to her troubled past.
"They call me Bloody Mary at school," Mariemaia said in a soft whisper.
Heero looked at her but didn't respond. He knew that she didn't need to hear him say anything, only that he was listening.
"I mean, I get it! I've done some horrible shit! Believe me, I know what I've done. I deserve the nickname," Mariemaia said in frustration. "It still hurts… you know?"
"Yeah… I do," Heero answered somberly.
It could've been his imagination but he thought, in that moment, he saw a hint of a smile on her face.
Just then, they both turned towards the front of the room as they heard the approach of footsteps.
"Director Une is ready for you now." her secretary said to Heero as she walked in.
Heero nodded politely and stood up. He made his way across the room towards Mariemaia and headed towards the glass door that led into Une's office proper. The overcast light from outside, came piercing in through Une's office windows through the glass doors, catching a portion of the girl's face. The soft shadows of her expressionless face, reminded him of what he had seen so often in the mirror, something he was only now beginning to understand.
"Sorry about ruining your plans for world domination," Heero said.
She didn't look at him but she did nod slightly in gentle acknowledgement of his words, half joke, half sincere apology.
Heero stepped into Director Une's office. The austere minimalist of the space caught him a little off guard. He had always just assumed that she shared Treize's affinity for Victorian decor. But clearly she was her own woman, a fact that Heero often overlooked. She was sitting at her desk, her attention fixated on the monitor positioned slightly to the left of her natural sitting position. She didn't acknowledge him as he came in but he knew that she was aware of his presence.
He walked over to her desk and dropped down the files he had been carrying right in front of her. Opting not to sit down, he turned around to look through the Venetian blinds back out into the darkness of her waiting room. He could still make out some of the images on the television.
"Things seem to only be getting worse," Heero remarked.
"It turns out, it's rather difficult to run to entire world," Une commented flatly.
"The reports."
"You could've just sent them in."
"I wanted to discuss something with you in person," Heero said as he finally turned his attention away from the television and sat in the chair facing her desk.
"I figured as much," Une said with a disinterested sigh as she opened up one of his reports.
"It's about the Home and Heritage Society," Heero said.
Une said still, slightly leaning back in her chair, as she intently read Heero's report. She wasn't interested in it and Heero knew that. The welfare and safety of the princess, as she always referred to Relena, was of little concern to her given Relena's lofty situation. A point she had made quite clear on several occasions. But even still, Une was never just outright dismissive about the concerns and opinions of those she respected. Despite their differences and despite their conflicting roles in the Eve Wars, there weren't many people she respected more in this world than Heero Yuy.
"You're overreacting," Une said as she finished and put the report back down on her desk.
"Have you seen what's happening just down the street from here?" Heero asked rhetorically, as he pointed to the television.
"The disgruntled progeny of the old aristocracy and the protesters out in front of the Supreme Assembly are hardly the same."
"Many of the old aristocracy are leaders within the protest movement."
"Even so, the entitled rich kids on your school's campus are hardly a Preventer concern."
"Did you read the part about Van Der Deen? And his veiled threats against Relena?"
"Yes, I did," Director Une said as she folded her arms across her chest. "And I remain unimpressed. He's a blowhard, a gascon, a frankly… a little bitch. He's the kind of kid that during the war, we would give latrine duty to. He's nothing to worry about."
"He's got quite the following on campus."
"And what can they do?" Une asked with a derisive smile.
"I'm just asking for a few more resources, a tail at least."
"I'm sorry, Heero. But the princess already has a full security detail when she's here and when she visits space and she's got you when she's on campus, how many more resources must I divert her way?"
"I would've thought him being a Van Der Deen would've meant something."
"You wanna catch me a Van Der Deen, be my guest," Une said as her voice suddenly filled with inspiration. "Rinus hasn't been seen or heard from, outside of a few unconfirmed sightings, since the moment you shot down Libra."
Director Une leaned forward and put her elbows on her desk and finally looked at Heero directly. Her expression softened to a degree that almost resembled the old Lady Une.
"Look, I understand if you're bored. Frankly, you were never trained for this kind of thing. If you don't want to watch over Relena anymore, I could always transfer you to another department."
The Supreme Assembly
A few blocks away
It had been raining sporadically all throughout the day, causing the protesters just outside of Parliament to grow more and more irate as they got more and more wet. By mid-afternoon, the crowds have gotten so rowdy that Relena's driver and head bodyguard had decided that instead of entering the Supreme Assembly from the front, it would be far more prudent to go through the underground parking system that incidentally linked all of the major government buildings together.
Relena was a little disappointed as she didn't like hiding herself away from the public. No matter how angry people were, she believed that they could always be reasoned with and to concede to violent action was to be complicit in the violence itself.
Relena and her entourage made their way from the underground parking lot, passed the security check-in and up the stairs into the main structure. The Supreme Assembly was originally the known as the Royal Palace of Brussels, the ancient seat of power of the Kings and Queens of the Belgians. During the early days of its existence, it housed the royal family. But in later years, as subsequent kings conducted more and more official state affairs at there, the function of the palace changed to that of a public institution. When the nation was dissolved to form the original power block that would in time become the United Earth Sphere Alliance, the Royal Palace, with its historic ties to the Belgian monarchy, became the natural choice for the central legislature. But as Romefeller, grew in influence following the establishment of the Alliance, power moved from Brussels to Munich, where many of the aristocratic families of Romefeller were based.
It wasn't until the Alliance was dissolved and Romefeller's grip on power was broken, did the functions of the world government return to Brussels. The building itself largely still resembles the original neoclassical building although with quite a few newer additions, the underground parking lot and tunnels being the least conspicuous of them. The Supreme Assembly was heavily damaged during Mariemaia's insurrection and large portions of the structure are still being reconstructed and renovated. While the exterior of the palace has changed very little since its creation, the interiors have been remodeled almost constantly since the days when it was chosen to be the seat of government for the Alliance. In stark contrast to its conservative and Romanic exterior facade, the inside, including the Chamber of the World, the central legislative chamber, are thoroughly modern.
Once Relena had passed the final security checkpoint on the ground floor, she parted ways with her security detail and continued on towards the Chamber of the World with only her assistant Cindy following closely behind her. Upon entering the large semicircular auditorium, she noticed that half the lights weren't on and the normal ambient white noise of thousands of dignitaries from across earth and space chatting amongst each other was replaced by the very noticeable sounds of shuffling paper, wool suits rubbing against leather chairs, and the clicking of fingers on keyboards. There weren't many people in the Chamber of the World that day.
With a light foot, Relena made her way up to a seat at the judge's bench that was positioned behind the podium of the Speaker, and the seat of the prime minister. Normally, these seats would have been occupied, not by judges, confusingly, but by the leaders of the respective parties, with the leader of the majority coalition and the minority leader, in the center left and the center right seats, respectively. But it seemed that the legislature was not in session today and this was an informal hearing as half of the judge's seats were unoccupied and a woman and a man she recognized, neither of whom were party leaders, sat in the remaining seats. Relena snuck up behind the woman and slid into the empty seat next to hers.
"Hey," Relena whispered to her friend.
It took a half second to snap the woman out of her daydream but her eyes lit up when she saw Relena.
"Hey yourself," she replied gleefully as she turned to face Relena. "Look at you, dressing your age again."
Relena blushed a little as she looked down at her signature beige pantsuit. She had to admit, it had been a long time since she had worn something so formal, a tight fitting suit that barely allowed the natural movements of a human being and sensible heels, too tall to be completely comfortable but not tall enough to be sexy and fun. At the beginning of the school year, she was excited to dress up like a girl her age, sunglasses, halter tops, jean shorts, and sandals. And it was indeed fun for a while, but having to think and pick out a new outfit everyday soon became a little exhausting. She did end up enlisting the help of her stylist after a month. She figured that wasn't cheating on her commitment to college and being normal. It was just getting dressed afterall. It wasn't like she used her influence to manipulate her grades.
"You see me as this old," Relena said as she gestured her hands across her outfit. "Hopefully no one else does."
"Oh, stop it, you know you look great. Need I remind you of the photo taken at the signing of the armistice two years ago. A group of old white men standing in a row and then… you."
"I did look good that day, didn't I?" Relena commented..
"What are you doing here, today? Don't you have school?"
"School's out, baby. I just finished my final midterm yesterday. Time to unwind."
"So you came here?"
"I missed it," Relena said with a forlorn smile. "I miss the rush, the excitement of this place. I thought I'd come in and sit in on a session."
"Well as you can see, the legislature as not in session," she gestured to the mostly empty space.
"Right, forgot it was friday."
"The suits sure work hard don't they?"
"So, what's this all about then?"
"Municipal stuff, small time, beneath your concern."
"Oh right, the housing redevelopment project in and around Brussels."
"So, you saw the protesters outside too, did you?" The woman said flatly and sardonically.
"Had to come in through the underground parking lot." Relena said. "Is that why you're here? The housing? What happened to the MA3H resource satellite development project?"
"More pressing concerns," she answered with a heavy sigh. "Apparently the fate of the houses of the aristocracy is more pressing than a resource satellite infrastructure project. If you ask me, this and every hearing on the issue is a waste of time, but what do I know?"
The woman knew a lot. She was Alicia St. John, a 25 year old ESUN development advisor, from Eritrea. She was the daughter of an American doctor and a local business woman. She attended Stanford University and spent the war years volunteering and working for nonprofit organizations and charities. After the war, as power shifted in the Earth Sphere Unified Nation shifted from Romefeller to the more progressive parties, she was personally drafted into the service of the government by Relena, due to her record of academic excellence and her impressive resume. The meritocratic atmosphere fostered by the post-war government allowed her to rise quickly. After being shopped to various agencies and departments, mostly related to reconstruction and development, she landed a position as Deputy Director of the International Human Development Agency, a task force created by President Hoch whose duties ranged anywhere from allocating remote satellite settlement projects to helping with the logistics of the refugee crisis.
Alicia and Relena, over the course of years, and become close acquaintances, friends even. But given their hectic schedules and differing work obligations, only managed to see each other once every few months in Brussels, usually by happenstance. They would usually make a point of at least time to share a meal whenever they ran into each other. They were natural friends as both were overachievers, ambitious, and young women in a city run by old men.
"If this is a municipal concern, why are you guys having the hearing in the Supreme Assembly?" Relena asked as she pulled out her laptop from her bag.
"You know Romefeller, neutered as they are, they can't comprehend a world where they are not the very center of it," Alicia said as she rolled her eyes. "They plan to appeal this case to the Supreme Court. We are but a humble step on that journey."
"Please tell me you're going to deny them."
"I'm sure we will, that won't stop them though. They love those damn houses."
"You know who can use the spaces those houses occupy more? Low income families and refugees."
"You tell them that!" Alicia said with muted enthusiasm as he furiously gestured her hands towards the grumbling lawyers down below. "Seriously, they'll listen to you."
"This is your fight, sister," Relena said as she leaned back in her chair and threw her hands up. "I just stepped into the wrong room, at the wrong time."
"Thanks for your support…"
"You guys aren't going to cave are you?"
"Fuck no… well, not if I have anything to say about it. Joachim, doesn't seem so steady though." Alicia said as she leaned forward slightly and stared past Relena.
Relena turned and looked in that same direction. Several seats down, a couple of bodies away was a serious looking man white grey hair and a gaunt face. He was Joachim Euler, Director of the HDA and Alicia's boss. Relena knew him too, insofar as she was familiar and casually acquainted with everyone in this city. He was a gentle and thoughtful man, humorless, but not mean-spirited. He was a taskmaster but ultimately had the compassion required for his position. He had always been polite to Relena, perhaps a bit too polite. She wondered if he would buckle under the pressure.
"He seems okay right now," Relena remarked.
"I think he will be," Alicia agreed. "But I'm not worried, we have support from outside the agency anyways. The drafter of the legislation is a bit of a firecracker."
"Oh? A good lawyer working for the government? Well now I've heard everything."
"He's a local guy, young, handsome, works for the city. But I suspect he won't be there for long."
"Who is he?"
"Colin DuBois."
Relena suppressed a giggle.
"What?" Alicia asked suspiciously.
"Yeah, I know him," Relena answered with a smug smile. "Well, I met him, at Lucrezia Noin's going away party."
"Ooohh," Alicia howled as she shimmied her shoulders.
"No, it was nothing like that." Relena said as she brushed off the implication. "Well maybe, he did ask me out."
Alicia raised and an eyebrow and shot Relena a look.
"By text," Relena added. "The day after."
"Well, you can't blame the guy."
"Who does that?!"
"Uhhh, guys who want to ask out Relena Peacecraft, sorry Darlian, oh whatever, both versions of yourself are intimidating as hell," Alicia said.
"Oh stop," Relena said as she rolled her eyes.
"No, you stop. You can deny it all you want, but you are intimidating. You can try to fool the world and yourself into thinking you're a normal girl, but you're not. You saved the world… Even hardened soldiers are afraid of you."
"Yeah, that's not true at all."
"Oh yeah? What about Heero Yuy?"
Relena's eyes widened as she almost fell out of her chair.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Relena said unconvincingly.
"Yeah okay…" Alicia said with a knowing nod. "You know how many times you've brought him up in conversation over the years? At least once per meeting. Girl, you're not slick."
"That's… that's not the same at all." Relena stumbled over her words.
"Yeah I know, I know. It's kind of the reverse situation, you like him. But I'm sure he likes you too, as I said, he's intimidated by you, like they all are."
"Heero Yuy is not intimidated by anything."
"Except by his little blonde princess," Alicia said with a devilish smile.
Relena turned away from her friend in an attempt to her flushed cheeks. Luckily for her, their gossip session in the pulpit of the most august institution in the world was cut short by one of the lawyers representing the aristocratic coalition.
"Excuse me ladies, I'm ever so sorry to disturb your private conversation but we are in the midst of conducting state business are we not?" The lawyer asked condescendingly.
He was a portly old fellow with a curly mustache and a deep baritone voice. Normally, she would have been irate at the interruption but given that she was clearly in the wrong as their private conversation had gotten progressively louder combined with the fact that she needed an out at that very moment, meant that she welcomed the insolence.
"Of course, you are right, sir. Forgive me," Relena said demurely.
"I know that such matters are beneath your concern," the lawyer continued. "Not all of us have survived into this new era of peace as prosperously as you have. The fate of the great houses of the aristocracy are not just a matter of personal or family pride but of national heritage. Wouldn't you agree?"
Relena immediately felt the pinch the leading question.
"There are a great many things that are a part of our heritage. There was a time in the history of our civilization that the great houses and castles of the nobility were of the utmost importance in that grand tradition. But we've since developed other ideas about our collective identity. In the place of golden crowns and marble mansions, we have values and principles. Values such as love and compassion, principles such as equality and charity. Goodwill and empathy towards those who suffer, those who are ill, those who have lost. Wouldn't you agree?"
Alicia immediately perked up as she slowly realized halfway through Relena's speech that she was in battle mode. It amused her to no end that this girl, had such disparate and irreconcilable personalities within her, the demure, oblivious, and sometimes awkward girl, and the strong willed, fiery, and passionate politician. Realizing the opportunity of the occasion, she quickly pulled out her phone and discreetly began to film Relena.
"Well of course, it is easy for you, dear princess, to say. We've all read the stories about the extravagant reconstruction project of the Peacecraft Royal Palace, not everyone in the aristocracy is fortunate enough to have such luxuries now. The government is proposing to tear down their houses, their ancient homesteads, their ancestral grounds, and inviting strangers to come live in them. How would you feel, drea princess, if the government converted the Peacecraft Royal Palace into low income public housing?"
"Sir, I am flattered that you keep up with the gossip of my life so keenly. But you seemed to have missed some details. While it is true I'm currently in the process of renovating the house of my father, you seem to have forgotten that I inherited the entire Peacecraft Estate, not just the Royal Palace."
"How fortunate for you," the lawyer said sarcastically.
"Yes, quite. And upon realizing this, that I have some sixteen mansions all across northern Europe and no possible way that I could make use of all of them, I have begun the process of repurposing most of them into orphanages, hospitals, museums, galleries, and yes, even low income housing for the war refugees, that I'm sure I don't need to remind you, were largely caused by the warmongering of Romefeller."
She paused for a moment to let the lawyer respond. But he was too slow and Relena seized the opportunity once again.
"The fact is, these houses were confiscated from former members of the Romefeller foundation. The primary culprits and leaders of the organization have been tried and convicted. The rest were given the chance to repurchase their homes from the government at a heavily discounted price. The government has shown the aristocracy kindness, leniency, and clemency at every turn for the sake of peace and reconciliation. But yet, your clients remain obstinate and unrepentant. Since this was a matter of the city and not the world government, I had initially intended to remain neutral, to sit as an impartial observer. But I've heard your arguments and I've witnessed the manner in which you present yourselves in these proceedings and in the media, I remain unconvinced of your position. In fact, starting now, know that I hereby fully endorse the government's plans for these houses, and will be exercising the fullest extent of my influence, whatever that might be, to that end."
She stopped. There was silence in the Chamber of the World. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, flipped her hair, and smiled.
"Now if you'll excuse me, midterms just ended today and I have a house party to attend."
She heard the faint sound of an electronic shutter. She turned towards Alicia.
"What did you do?!" Relena asked furiously.
"That was awesome!"
The Valknut
Heero let out a frustrated sigh as he forced open the glass door that led from Une's office to her waiting room. He was annoyed but not surprised. Noin had warned Heero about Une's attitude towards the campus security project. He went into the meeting knowing that Une thought it was a waste of time and money and yet, actually hearing the words and the casual disregard for Relena's safety pissed him off. But he was clear headed enough to see it from her perspective. Relena was attending university, not touring a hostile environment with active political dissidents, not counting the Home and Heritage Society and the anarchists on campus. She couldn't justify devoting that many resources to it, given that she already had a full security detail when she was on official government business.
He was snapped out of his trance when he thought he heard Relena's voice. He looked up and around. He found Mariemaia, stilling in the waiting room, now sitting closer to the TV. She looked over at Heero with an awkward stare.
"Your girl's on television," she said flatly.
Heero turned his attention towards the flatscreen. He saw her, split screen. The image on the left was Relena giving her speech in the Chamber of the World, caught on video by Alicia. The image on the right was a live feed of Relena being escorted down the front steps of Parliament, flanked by her security team on both sides as they waded their way through the angry mob of protesters. The chyron at the bottom of the screen read: Vice Foreign Minister gives impassioned speech supporting government housing project.
"Okay, I'll admit, she was always better than me at speeches," Mariemaia commented glibly.
"Shit," Heero muttered under his breath.
The media firestorm around her had just calmed down as the novelty of her attending university had finally worn off. But now, with this speech, on a Friday afternoon; the slowest portion of the news cycle, the media would continue their pursuit of Relena with renewed vigour.
He would have to go to that party now.