Author's Note: I've included a little subplot about Lady Une and Mariemaia. Mariemaia was a very interesting character to write so I thought I would expand on her a bit. Heero and Relena are still the primary characters in this story but I do want to explore some of the other characters a bit. I enjoy the world building and I think it will be beneficial later on. So many fanfics are only about their central characters are after awhile it feels as though they have hermetically sealed themselves away in a little pocket universe of their own bliss. And while I have no objections to bliss, I don't ever want to forego their own individual stories for the sake of their relationship. Relena's job isn't a lifetime appointment and maybe one day she'll have to run for election. Heero may seem to have everything figured out, except what he actually wants out of life. Fleshing out side characters, subplot plots, and the world will go a long way to that end.

Pre-Game

Relena arrived at her townhouse just minutes after sunset. She was already late. Well, as late as one could be to an undergraduate house party celebrating the end of exams. Still, however relaxed the social conventions of these sorts of gatherings were, there was something within her that made her anxious at the thought of being late. Perhaps it was her aristocratic upbringing and the manners that came with it, or perhaps it was because she had lived through the war and while she was never an active combatant, she knew what it was to keep discipline and stay on schedule.

She had been delayed in Brussels by the unforeseen, but in hindsight, perfectly understandable, deluge of reporters and protestors outside Parliament. It wasn't within her nature to question herself. In fact, seeing the look on the lawyer's face reaffirmed her position. But of course, she had always had a strong sense of self and of what was right. But in this instance she did question the prudence of her ardent and loud enthusiasm, if not the convictions behind them.

She was tired. Which wasn't exactly a new sensation. She was always tired these days. Perhaps she wouldn't go to the party. Afterall, she wasn't sure if she would even fit in. This wasn't a debutante ball, this wasn't a state dinner, theis were a bunch of teenagers getting drunk off their ass and doing things Relena was far too timid to even think about. Perhaps, she could just take the night off and go to bed early. After all, how often did she have that opportunity anymore.

Not a second after she had plopped herself down onto the couch in her living room did she hear footsteps descend from upstairs. Relena's eyes opened immediately as she sat up. No one was supposed to be here.

"Oh my dear, I didn't realize you were home," Margrete said as she stopped on the last step. "I was just replacing that lightbulb you were asking about."

"Yes well, my plans have changed slightly," Relena answered as she let out a sigh of relief. "And I'm terribly sorry to have to put you through the trouble. Here I am, in the city, living alone, trying to learn how to be independent when I can't even replace a light bulb."

"You don't have the time, that's not the same thing as not knowing how to do it," Margrete said in an matronly voice. "Speaking of, I thought you were in Brussels. I saw you all over the TV earlier today."

"Yes well, I stuck my nose into a situation where it did not belong," Relena said with an awkward smile.

"Nonsense, people know you, my girl," Margrete said. "They like you and they know you mean well. Don't let that nonsense distract you. What are you still doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Relena asked.

"Midterms are over, everyone is heading to a party. I assume you were invited to one, or several." Margrete said as she leaned in expectantly.

"How did you—"

"I rent townhouses to students, my dear," Margrete answered before Relena could even finish her question. "I suspect I will be cleaning up after quite a few of you rascals in the morning."

"When then, maybe I shouldn't add to your troubles," Relena said sheepishly.

"You know you sound far more convincing on TV," Margrete said. "Go, let loose, have a little fun. You deserve it."

"I'm just a little tired."

"You can be tired when you're old," Margrete replied. "You told me you wanted a normal life while you were studying at Vustgaarde. Well this is what normal girls do after exams."

Familiar thoughts raced through of his head as he made his way down the dark and quiet country road back that led back to Vustgaarde. He had taken this route back road many times before. It was perfect for his motorcycle. He could avoid the traffic of the main highway that connected Vustgaarde to the rest of the continent and the quiet emptiness of the path gave him time to think.

Sometimes, he would reflect on what was said during support group meetings. Other times, his thoughts would drift back further to the war itself. For the first year after the war in Buenos Aires, he thought little about the war. He was disciplined enough and had the self-determination to shove those thoughts aside. He thought that's what moving on meant. It wasn't until he moved back to Europe that his mental encounters with the past began in earnest once again. In group, he learned that it was okay, beneficial even to remember, so long as he understood that the past was the past and it couldn't hurt him any longer. And still other times, he would even think about the future. Something he had never considered before. What were his plans, and what it would mean to live in this new world of Relena's making. It was the uncertainty that would always get to him. There was a time when he was certain of everything. Now he had to grapple with the fact that he didn't have any clear answers. That, he had to finally admit to himself, scared him.

In some ways, it was that very uncertainty that made him anxious on this night. What was he supposed to wear? What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to relate to these people when all he knew of life was war and bloodshed? He was the furthest thing from normal. He knew nothing of the civilian world other than the bare minimum that allowed him to blend in.

His cultural knowledge was based off a mad scientist's attempt to shape him into a poetic killing machine. He knew Beethoven's 9th by memory but understood none of its beauty. He had been forced to read the likes of Homer, Maimonides, Augustine, Rousseau, Marx, among others while he was training for Operation Meteor. Doctor J had created for him a machine of immense power, he wanted the young pilot to understand power and what it meant to humans. But remarkable as Heero was as a child, he was still only a child and the thoughts and ideas of humanity's great thinkers, in the end became nothing but facts and quotes for him to memorize.

Not that the corpus of culture in his mind was anything of interest to those going to the party. No doubt, the Greek epics were nothing but homework and the subject of exams for the average undergraduate. But he knew nothing else. He didn't watch television, he didn't read contemporary books, and he knew nothing of popular music. There was a life of leisure, of entertainment, of human relationships, romantic or otherwise that in his childhood was forbidden to him. Now it was beckoning him. It felt strange.

Brussels

The hostess escorted Katerina and Mariemaia to their usual seats. They were regulars at Divinia, one of the premiere restaurants in the city. It wasn't a large restaurant, just about a dozen tables that seated no more than four or five patrons at a time. Teak wood accents lined the walls along with black and white photographs of the city. It was just crowded enough for the anyone to have meaningful private conversations while the ambient noise of the restaurant drowned out the distinctiveness of anything being discussed.

It was also a government hotspot, at least for the upper echelons of the security services and foreign relations. Here, the men and women worked with or worked adjacent to Une outnumbered those that worked in the legislature. Une was among her people here, those formerly OZ and still held her in high esteem even if the peacetime politicians didn't. And no one dared speak against Mariemaia in front of Une. It was a redoubt for both of them.

Katerina and Mariemaia sat silently across from each other, looking at their menus while their waiter filled their wine glasses with water.

"Thank you," Katerina said to the waiter with half a smile, implicitly asking for a few moments to decide what they wanted.

"Don't they ever have anything new?" Mariemaia said with a sigh of faux-frustration.

"You liked the salmon last time, it's in season," Katerina said.

"I guess," Mariemaia conceded.

Katerina closed her menu and put it to the side. She took a sip out of her water. Mariemaia peaked up from her menu as her stepmother waited for her to make a decision. She knew what was coming.

"I'm sorry about your piano lesson," Katerina said as she leaned forward slightly.

"It's okay I guess," Mariemaia said. She really didn't have a choice but to forgive her.

"I've rescheduled for Tuesday," Katerina said. "Does that work?"

"You tell me? Will you be busy then?" Mariemaia asked.

"You know I can't control that."

"Look, I appreciate the effort but you don't have to drive me to and from piano lessons if you're too busy. I'm perfectly capable of getting there myself," Mariemaia said, extending an olive branch while poking her with it at the same time.

"You know that's too dangerous," Katerina said. "I can't let you take public transportation, not after last time."

"Then get me a private car," Mariemaia suggested.

"Mariemaia…"

"You don't have to do this, you know. I understand you feel a duty to him but you're not my mother," Mariemaia said softly. She didn't mean for those words to sound spiteful, just truthful. "You don't have to be this involved I my life."

"Perhaps not, but you are the closest thing to a daughter I will ever have," Katerina said without a hint of anger.

The waiter came back before Mariemaia could say anything else. Katerina put her hands down on her menu and smiled politely at the waiter. Mariemaia did the same.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked.

"Yes," Katerina answered. "She'll have the salmon and I'll have the steak, rare please."

"Very good", the water said as he took the menus from them and walked away.

Freya and Helen pushed their way through the crowd of paparazzi that had formed in front of Relena's townhouse. With the day's impromptu speech in Parliament and the tabloid media's foreknowledge of the social calendar of Vustgaarde's undergrads, the media firestorm surrounding Relena grew out of control. She was essentially trapped inside her own home with no one but Margrete to keep the unrelenting horde at bay. She wondered how they were going to get to the party with the flood of photographers out front. Relena had insisted that her security detail remain in Brussels and that she didn't want any bodyguards around for the party. That may have been a rash decision in hindsight.

Margrete managed to let the girls into the house. Relena rushed downstairs to greet her friends.

"Oh my god, how bad is it out there?" Relena asked with a concerned look on her face.

"Nothing we can't handle," Freya said as she tossed her hair.

"Speak for yourself," Helen said. "You sure know how to make a splash."

"It was supposed to be a closed door, informal hearing," Relena explained. "I didn't mean for the whole world to hear it. The last thing I want to do is getting into Brussels city politics."

"Trust me, the people out there aren't interested in your political opinions," Helen said as she moved the blinds slightly with her finger to take a peek outside.

"Speaking of, what the hell are you wearing?" Freya asked as she approached Relena.

Relena wore a strapless black gown that trailed for several feet behind her. She looked noticeably taller to Freya, so presumably she was wearing some impressive heels as well. She wore her hair in an elegant updo and completed her look with matching diamond earrings and necklace so beautiful that Freya couldn't help but feel a sudden visceral tinge of jealousy.

"What?" Relena asked.

"Girl, you've been going to too many grown up parties," Freya said.

"Did I overdo it?" Relena asked with an expression that could have only been read as help me.

"That's putting it lightly." Freya took a step closer, reached behind Relena, released her hair, and let it fall to her shoulders. "There, that's a start. You need to learn how to tone it down a bit."

Freya grabbed both Helen and Relena and led them up the stairs into Relena's bedroom. Immediately the two visitors dove fearlessly into the small walk-in closet. Relena didn't actually have most of her clothes here. She had roughly around two month's supply of clothing before she would run out, some stuff that designers and brands would send her for free, which was a regular occurrence and had only increased in frequency and volume since she enrolled in university. She kept some of her work clothes on hand too, just in case she needed to take a meeting on short notice and couldn't swing by her suite at the Royal Windsor.

Relena sat down at her vanity and watched helplessly as her friends rummaged through her closet like a pair of overly excited puppies learning the joy of digging holes in the ground for the first time. She couldn't imagine what they would find, everything she had in that closet was rather casual. But perhaps Relena had misinterpreted what this party was, or what parties in universities meant in general.

"Relena, how big is this closet?" Helen asked from within.

"I don't know, regular size?" Relena answered haplessly.

"Take off that overpriced monstrosity," Freya said. "And be ready, we don't have that much time."

Relena unzipped herself and let the dress fall to the floor. She stepped out and sat back down on the chair and waited for Freya and Helen to make their final decision. She felt rather awkward, sitting practically naked except for her heels and her panties, waiting for her friends to pick a new outfit for her but she supposed this was what normal university students did. There was a part of her who always knew that something about the war had changed her. She had to grow up fast, there was no choice. But she did have a choice now, she was fortunate enough to have the choice to reclaim some of the youth that had been stolen from her by circumstance. She just didn't realize how much of that youth had been stolen.

The rest of dinner went a little more smoothly. In some sense, Katerina was prepared for it. She was a master of foresight and human motivation, it was what made her useful and capable during her time in OZ. And she remembered what it was to be a moody teenager and while Mariemaia was only 10 years old, she knew all too well how war could age a person. Katerina had been Mariemaia's guardian for a little over a year now and while there was a still a certain distance between them, perhaps there would always be, they had grown closer and their relationship, slowly but surely started to resemble that of a family.

Mariemaia finished the last bits of her salmon before she took a sip of water.

"Would you like something for dessert?" Katerina asked, having already finished her food.

"I think I just want to go home," Mariemaia answered.

"Is everything okay at school?"

"Yeah, everything is fine," Mariemaia said rather unconvincingly.

"Do you want me to talk to the head mistress?"

"I don't think that's going to do any good. I heard she lost a son during the war."

"We've all lost people we care about during the war, that's no reason for her to be giving a 10 year old girl a hard time."

"She's not the problem!" Mariemaia said emphatically.

That was one of her old interrogation tricks she used as Lady Une. She would pepper them with innocuous but intentionally misguided questions to force the frustration out of her subject. She felt bad about using it on Mariemaia but she had become more and more withdrawn over the last couple of months and getting her to reveal what she was feeling had become increasingly difficult.

"So…" Katerina said calmly as she took a sip of her water. "There is a problem."

Mariemaia just looked down at her empty plate and didn't answer.

"Do you need a full time bodyguard?" Mariemaia asked.

"God no. The meathead that drives me to and from school is enough. I don't need him following me between classes," Mariemaia said.

"Tell me how I can help you," Katerina said.

"The rich kids at school hate me because of my connection to the Barton Foundation, the scholarship kids hate me because they lost loved ones during my war, even the parents hate me" Mariemaia said. "I'd say I'm beyond help."

"We could always find you another school, or we could try home schooling."

"Yeah, just ship me off to some boarding school in L3 where I'll be more welcome," Mariemaia said sarcastically. "I don't want to be anyone's cause anymore. I just want to be normal."

"I think you'll come to learn, those of us who went through the war were never going to be normal," Katerina said.

Freya and Helen sat on the bed and covertly marveled at Relena back muscles and natural curves as they watched her throw on the top they had chosen for her. On some level they had always known of her beauty. After all, they had watched along with the rest of the world when she appeared on the world stage as the Queen of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation for the first time, resplendent and enchanting. It seemed odd to them to see her now in her naked flesh, as real to them as each other, yet no less beautiful than her original ethereal self.

Relena turned around and made her way out of her walk-in closet. The girls quickly shifted themselves to make it not completely obvious that they had been creeping on her like a couple of horny guys. They chose for a white low cut cowl halter top and a black mini skirt to match her heels. Her hair was wavy, a natural consequence of her undone up do.

Freya's eyes widened with approval. "Yes, now that's what I'm talking about."

"Relena, you look stunning," Helen added.

Relena turned to look at herself in the mirror and almost had a heart attack. She hadn't realized how much of her cleavage she was showing in this dress. Her knees clamped shut and she used one hand to try to drag the hem of her skirt down a few inches but to no avail. It was practically glued to her skin.

"I can NOT where this!" Relena squealed.

"Girl, you look hot as fuck," Freya said dismissively.

"I'm the Vice Foreign Minister," Relena said as she turned to look at the girls. "I can't dress like this!"

"You're also an 18 year old university student and this is how an 18 year old girl would dress on a night out," Freya said.

"Besides, just think of the reaction you'll get from the guys," Helen added.

"Yeah, and what about the guy from History and Conflict you always stay behind and talk to?" Freya asked.

"I don't always stay behind and talk to him," Relena protested.

"His name is Heero," Helen said.

They teased her about Hero all the time. She understood why. Of all of the different guys on campus vying for a piece of her attention, and there was an endless sea of them, Relena only ever seemed to show any interest in one. Their relationship must've seemed extremely odd to them. Matilda knew but Relena wondered what everyone else saw when they watched curiously as she requested a moment of that shy Japanese boy's time only for him to run off the first moment he could.

"Right him, what about him?" Freya asked.

"I don't think Heero's that type of guy," Relena said.

"They're all that type of guy, Relena," Freya said, as if she were chiding Relena to not be so naïve.

Relena had wondered about that before. Their connection, whatever it was, however vague and undefined, was never about the that. It wasn't physical. The normal stages of teenage infatuation, if indeed that's what had happened to them on that beach and at St. Gabriel's, had been upended by the circumstances of history and the winds of war. There was never really a right time for them, there was always something bigger than demanded their attention.

Until now.

She turned to look at herself in the mirror again. She had to admit, she did look… hot. Which was new for her. This was the kind of thing girls experimented with, little by little, growing into their sexual selves. For Relena, it was like diving head first into the deep end.

The lights in the foyer turned on as soon as the biometric locks confirmed their identities. Mariemaia kicked off her shoes the moment she stepped inside the house and ran directly for the kitchen. Katerina took her heels off one at a time and followed Mariemaia languidly. It had been a long day and a longer dinner. There was a time in her life when she could go several days without sleep, operating at peak efficiency. The war demanded it of her. Being a glorified government bureaucrat did not.

She found Mariemaia standing on a bar stool, rummaging through the freezer when she entered the kitchen. Katerina knew exactly what she was looking for.

"Thought you weren't in the mood for dessert," Katerina said.

"Yeah well, now I am," Mariemaia said without averting her attention from her task.

"No," Katerina said authoritatively.

There was a loud thud that almost knocked Mariemaia off balance. She slowly turned. Katerina had dropped Mariemaia's backpack onto the countertop.

"Homework first, then, ice cream," Katerina said. "Maybe…"

Mariemaia pouted a little but ultimately conceded. She got down off of the bar stool and made her way to the counter. She reluctantly unzipped her bag and took out her tablet, her notebook, and her little pencil case. She booted up her tablet and navigated to her course material app.

Katerina could tell that the girl was in no mood for homework. It wasn't because she was a terrible student, quite the opposite. Her teachers have complimented Katerina for raising such a brilliant little girl, her history with a failed military coup notwithstanding. But in truth it was because of the circumstances that led up to her being made a figurehead of that coup, that made her such a brilliant child. Up until the defeat of the rebellion by the Gundam Pilots, she had been tutored by the best teachers from across the colonies. She lived like a princess, encased away from the real world, both the colonies and Earth, until the day of her debut upon the world stage dressed in the uniform of her namesake army.

"Look, I have to work too," Katerina said as she took out a thick stack of files and her laptop from her purse and placed them on the countertop next to Mariemaia's backpack.

"I can help with those you know…" Mariemaia said looking up at Katerina.

"You were quite helpful in your debriefing," Katerina said simply.

"But I know those guys, I spent years with them, I know how they think," Mariemaia insisted.

"Geometry now," Katerina said emphatically. "Hunting rogue elements of the Barton Foundation later… maybe."

It took a few more minutes of tepid resistance before Mariemaia finally settled into actually doing her homework. Not that she was enjoying it by any means. It was incredibly dull and repetitive. Occasionally she would peek over at Katerina's screen to see what she was working on but all she saw were walls of text too small and too boring to hold her attention. After she completed her homework, she surreptitiously switched apps to check what was going on on social media.

Scrolling through her feed she saw the usual collection of people's selfies, food, and whatever brands were selling. Something did manage to catch her attention though. Photos from several sources, professional and amateur alike, caught Relena Peacecraft dressed rather shockingly jumping into a limousine in front of her Vustgaarde townhouse along with a couple of friends.

"Holy shit Relena…" Mariemaia muttered.

"What?" Katerina said confused. "What happened to homework? What are you talking about?"

Mariemaia merely turned her tablet towards Katerina.

"What's taking so long?" Freya asked impatiently as she rolled down the window only to be harassed by an army of paparazzi trying to get an extra photo of Relena.

"Miss Winner thought it would be prudent to hire some security for the night's festivities given the celebrity of certain guests," the driver said politely through the privacy window. "Don't worry, it shouldn't be too much longer."

"I think he's talking about you," Helen leaned over and whispered to Relena.

"Oh, you think?" Relena replied quietly with a giggle.

"Well, since we're gonna be stuck here a while," Freya said as she reached over for another bottle of champagne. "Might as well get started on the second bottle."

Freya cracked open the second bottle and refilled everyone's glasses while they were stuck in traffic approaching Matilda's house. Limousine upon limousine clogged the arteries of the small hamlet, only twenty minutes away from Vustgaarde, where the Winner family had a house. Usually reserved for vacation purposes, Matilda ended up living in it because of its proximity to the university.

About forty-five minutes later, their limousine finally pulled up to the gate of the house and the driver stepped out to open the door for the ladies. Freya and Helen stepped out first into the initial barrage of flashes that rendered them momentarily blind. The media was kept at a safe distance by security but that didn't stop their cameras. Relena stepped out of the limo with grace and confidence. She may have looked ridiculous (at least in her mind) but she knew how to make an entrance. The media had been hounding her ever since the death of her adoptive father. She's made a few mistakes along the way but eventually she got the hang of it. Between dictators and paparazzi, the latter was far easier to manipulate.

She stood up straight and arched her back slightly and swayed a little when she walked. She looked absolutely radiant even if she was a little bit nervous about her outfit. A little bit of boob tape was all that was between her and a scandal that her political career would probably not survive. Still, she soldiered on. She posed for a few photographs, busting out a few moves she had only ever practiced with her publicist. She did the ankle cross, the side-glance, the classic over-the-shoulder, the hands on the hip, and even the little flirty kick-back. She was having fun with it, these weren't the usual kinds of photo ops that came up for her. Plus, the extra glass of champagne while they were waiting didn't hurt her confidence.

Guided by security, Relena, Freya, and Helen made their way towards the house. Relena marveled at the beauty of the structure. The Winner House wasn't bigger than any of her mansions but this was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The outside walls were lit with purple and blue floodlights and multi-colored lasers occasionally pierced through a few of the myriad windows that composed a large chunk of the forward facing façade of the building. She looked to her side as they walked along the long path that led up to the house. There were a few people hanging out between the perfectly manicured bushes, smoking cigarettes or sharing a joint, she couldn't tell which, she didn't really know the difference.

The door opened and Relena was hit by a wall of music. She lost her hearing for a few moments as they made their way into the house. Relena marveled at the space she had just entered. It was like another world. The ceiling, the walls, the music, the lights, the people. This was sensory overload. She had been to countless state dinners and an innumerable amount of balls and galas, but she had never experienced this. Is this how ordinary people lived, Relena thought to herself, had I really lived such a cloistered life?.

And just when she needed something to orient herself, she heard Matilda's voice. "Relena!"

The blonde girl, looking casually stunning, rushed over to greet her. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry about the traffic!"

"Oh, it's no big deal," Relena answered dumbly.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Matilda said.

"I don't think there's anything humble about this place," Relena said still rather dumbstruck.

"It's not as big or as fancy as the Peacecraft Palace."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that…" Relena said. "It's certainly more… lively."

"Don't be nervous," Matilda said, sensing Relena's apprehension. "It's just a bunch of kids blowing off steam after exams."

"Somehow, I feel like the only child in a room full of adults," Relena said as she nervously rubbed her arms.

"Well you were off saving the world between the ages of 15 and 17 while the rest of us were doing this, so… there's that," Matilda joked awkwardly.

Relena merely offered Matilda an awkward smile. It was a thoughtful comment but it did nothing to calm Relena's nerves.

"Alright, let's get another drink in you," Matilda said.

"Oh no, I'm already—"

But before Relena could complete her thought, Matilda was already dragging her back the hand across the great hall and the dance floor, past the DJ and the main-stage, through the massive crowds that had convened in the narrow passage through to the back of the house. There the music was a little less deafening though and the lighting tiny bit brighter. Matilda had converted the main dining room into a bar complete with three bartenders and a couple of dozen tables, quite a few were occupied.

"Oh look who's here," Matilda said with faux-surprise.

Confused, Relena looked around for a second before she actually spotted him. Her heart skipped a beat. He was handsome, when he wanted to be. He wore what looked like a new shirt, and dress pants, leather shoes. It immediately reminded her of the time they went to the school dance at St. Gabriel's. That felt like an eternity ago. He sat at one of the tables alone (typical), with a drink on his hand, looking rather intense, which Relena knew well enough to read as awkward and uncomfortable.

A second later, his gaze fell on her and there was a slight flicker in his eye. Subtle, perhaps imperceptible to most, but Relena knew him well enough to know the difference. She definitely had his attention now. Maybe Freya and Helen were right about her outfit after all.

"Go, now's your chance," Matilda said as she put her hand on Relena's shoulder.

"Wait, what?" Relena uttered, completely unprepared and suddenly feeling a little panicky.

"Go, talk to him, take as long as you like," Matilda said as she began to physically push Relena towards Heero's table. "It's about time you lovebirds cleared the air."

And with that, Matilda excused herself leaving only Relena and Heero, mere inches away from each other, staring at each other like they had done so many times before. But this time was different. They had no excuses this time. There was no pressing war to fight, no enemy to defeat, no kingdom to defend, no extenuating circumstance to distract them from what they both felt but had never said. World peace had literally been achieved by their efforts. And all that was left now was them.

"Heero, it's good to see you out and about," Relena said stiffly.

"Relena," Heero said. "You look beautiful."