Unspoken

The harsh moonlight of the autumn night disappeared as Relena closed the door behind them. It was suddenly very dark. Relena's phone was dead and Heero hadn't responded to any messages for hours. No one knew where they were or how to find them. They were truly alone.

They stood next to each other, so close that they could feel each other's body heat and hear the other's breathing.

"Do you trust me?" Relena asked.

"What?"

"You know that you admire me," Relena said. "You've told me that many times before. I even know that that you love me now. But do you trust me?"

Heero didn't know how to answer. He had known her for so long but the question of trust had never occurred to him. He was always so self-reliant, so self-assured. He had once asked Relena to trust him when he went out to fight Milliardo for the final time but she had never asked the same of him. Until now.

"I want you to be able to," Relena said. "I want you to know that I'm always here for you."

Their footsteps echoed through the high ceilings and barreling corridors that branched out from the Great Hall, Relena's in particular. Two loud clunks could be heard as she kicked off her heels sending them colliding against the marble tiles that paved their path towards the Grand Staircase. Heero followed Relena from several paces behind, feeling rather uncomfortable about the awe and majesty of the interior of the palace. It dwarfed the Winner House in size and architectural detail but carried with in a haunting sense of history and the sorrow of a nation that had been burned to ashes.

And there in front of him was the sole survivor of that tragic dynasty, who by sheer force of will and her unwavering conviction,survived the war unmarred. How could he ever live up to her? And why was it, no matter what road he traveled, it always seemed to lead him back to her?

The hints of light that pierced through the Palace's skylights accented her beauty. And by God she was beautiful. It almost didn't seem to matter that she was dressed like a commoner, just an ordinary girl out on the town, she commanded the space. This glorious palace of marble and gold was her birthright and it seemed, no matter how she presented herself, it recognized her and bowed to her majesty.

She made her way up the Grand Staircase gracefully. Heero deliberately slowed his pace even further as to not accidentally peek up her rather short skirt. Although he couldn't help but admire her bare legs. He was ashamed to even think about her in that way. He used to be so disciplined about such things during the war. His focus wasn't what it used to be.

The first room on the second floor was her bedroom. She chose it because it was the closest to the stairs while the Royal Apartments were still being constructed. Still, it was a large room, larger than all of her townhouse bedrooms combined. Inside the room was a vanity, a desk, a small sofa, and a king sized canopy bed.

Heero stopped just short of entering.

"I know, it's obnoxiously large," Relena said with a hint of embarrassment.

She noticed that he was just standing there, stoic as always. There was a time in her life when she would wonder what he was thinking and possibly plead with him. But somehow that feeling of desperation and uncertainty felt so distant now. Now, all she wanted to do was comfort him.

"Come on," Relena said as she took his hand and dragged him into her room. "I'm not letting you sleep alone tonight."

She led him over to the bed and made him sit down. Then Relena got up and walked into the on suite bathroom. Her hands crashed against the sink, her heart was pounding. She looked at herself in the mirror to steel her nerves. Who was this girl staring back at her? All glamorous and tragic. She could still see the traces of the mascara that she had tried to wipe away after crying earlier in the night. Everything had happened so fast. And being with Heero tonight made her feel as though she was 15 again. All of the memories of Libra came rushing back. All those feelings, long dulled by the passage of time, returned with renewed intensity. She had forgotten how desperate those moments were, how uncertain she was that Heero would make it out of that battle alive.

Relena washed the makeup from her face and stripped out of her partywear. She looked at naked body in the mirror. Normally, she wouldn't give it a second thought. She found that among girls her own age, she had remarkably few body image issues. Perhaps it was because she employed a personal trainer and was fairly strict about her dietary habits or perhaps it was because compared to the brutality and horrors of the Eve Wars, all else seemed so very trivial. In any case, she hadn't ever felt self-conscious about her body in any serious way. Until now.

Their relationship, even in the early days, had never been physical. They were young and their circumstances were quite different. Relena was a child, a fool she would readily admit, with juvenile dreams. Heero was a soldier, too focused, perhaps conditioned even, to see her as anything other than an obstacle. Towards the end of the war, as tragedies mounted and death seemed inevitable, their bond, however ill defined, was one of subdued emotional support and an unshakable faith in the other's strength. There was never lust, never time for it.

But seeing him for the first time after a two year absence and thereafter on a regular basis, she did inevitably begin to entertain those animal thoughts. And after the events of the night, she couldn't deny the powerful desire she had for him. But of course, all of this unnerved her about her own body. His had been sculpted by the forces of brutal human circumstance. His beauty was a byproduct of war. Hers on the other hand was a product of vanity and bourgeois privilege. Would he be able to see right through her?

Relena came back into the bedroom dressed in a pink nightie, holding a glass of water. She took a few gulps before handing it to Heero. She was nervous but she tried her best to hide it from him. He was a little shaken by the sudden turn of events and she sensed that she would need to be the strong one tonight. That was fine with her, it felt long overdue.

"Here, drink," Relena said.

He had trouble looking at her. She was beautiful, this he had always known. There was a brief moment when she debuted as the Queen of the World when he was struck still by the sheer perfection of her. That moment Heero would remember for the rest of his life. But this was different. A thin layer of silk separated his scarred hands from her bodily divinity. He knew he wasn't worthy and thus he felt guilty. But she kept looking at him, undaunted. Him and only him. As if there was nothing else in the world. He felt vulnerable in a way he had never felt before.

Taking the lead, Relena guided him to lie down on the bed. She laid down beside him. She never took her eyes off of him. Not for a second. Relena brushed the hair out of his eyes, and traced her finger behind his ear. They had never been this alone before. And for all of the night's heightened emotions and intractable tension, something about this felt safe, something about this felt right.

"Heero, you made a promise to me three years ago," Relena whispered. "Do you remember?"

Heero suddenly looked up at her, her eyes were full of hope and desire.

"You promised that you would come back, that you wouldn't give up after defeating Milliardo, that you weren't planning to die out there in space," Relena continued. "Do you remember?"

"Yes," Heero answered.

"Promise me again."

"Relena…"

"You were magnificent," Relena said. "I don't think I ever told you but you were. You still are. You are the bravest man I've ever known."

"I was train—"

"Stop deflecting," Relena interrupted. "Stop letting yourself think that you are nothing. You're not. A part of me is angry, angry with Doctor J, angry at the world, for allowing you to believe that for so long."

"Relena…" She could hear his voice softening. "The world isn't perfect. As much as you try to make it so."

"That doesn't mean that you deserve nothing," Relena said as she inched herself closer. "Isn't there anything you want in life?"

He didn't answer. But his eyes spoke more than his words ever could. Even in the darkness of night, she could see the desperation and desire in them. He was paralyzed by his mind and his training. He kept his heart locked away, guarded from the world, even when it so desperately wanted to be free. He was still fighting the war even though there were no more enemies left to defeat. He just couldn't put it away as much as he tried to.

Relena placed her hand on his cheek and stroked him gently. Her fingers tracing the ridge of his brow, she could feel it, slowly but surely, he melted at her touch. She moved in a bit closer, she could feel his breath upon her chest. This intimacy, this closeness, this was new to the both of them. But somehow this all felt inevitable.

"I understand," Relena whispered reassuringly. "Rest now my brave brave soldier. Know that the world and I am safe because of you."

It wasn't what he expected when the guard dragged him out of his cell. He figured it was because he was the youngest and thus the most vulnerable. He thought he was going to be tortured for information, perhaps used as a punching bag for the Preventers and some of the crew to vent some frustration. He didn't expect a shower, a fresh change of clothes, and a warm meal.

His hands were still shaking a little as he shoveled food into his mouth. He tried not to eat too fast. He didn't want to seem like an uncultured savage in front to the government agent watching him from across the table but he was starving. The food aboard the ship was much better than his usual portion.

Sally watched patiently as the child, who couldn't have been older than 15 years old, stuff his mouth full of potatoes, broccoli, and bits of pre-cut sausage. His pale gaunt face and the shaking of his hands suggested that he hadn't had a decent meal in months. The dull look in his eyes showed signs of chronic sleep deprivation. She had seen this before. The use of child soldiers was not uncommon during the wars of the previous generation. Although, this one seemed to lack the fortitude and formal discipline those aforementioned soldiers.

"They don't feed you?" Sally asked innocently.

The boy's eyes darted up from his food, and for a brief moment, regained their martial fury before they faded into depths of hunger once again.

Sally understood that look, all of the Gundam pilots had it too when she first met them. And while they were a cut above in terms of training, capabilities, and combat prowess, that desperate defensiveness, the instinctive mistrust of anyone and everyone, especially those in uniform, was unmistakable and universal. She poured the boy a glass of water and gently slid it over to his side of the table. After a few moments, he took a sip to wash down his food.

"That's okay," Sally said reassuringly. "Eat as much as you want."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," the boy finally said. "I'm not going to betray them. You think I'm weak. I'm not."

"I don't think you're weak," Sally said as she leaned forward slightly, placing her elbows on the table. "You wouldn't have survived this long if you were."

"What do you want from me then?" He asked as he began to eat again.

"Just a story," Sally replied simply.

"A story?"

"Your story."

"I'll pass."

"You know, I could've killed you," Sally said sternly but without any hint of malice in her voice. "I had the drop on you. You know that, you saw my gun. But I didn't… Why do you think that is?"

The boy just looked down at his food. He had been treated much better than he had expected from what he had been told by his crewmates. But of course, he recognized the very real possibility that this was all an elaborate act just to get him to give up vital information.

Captain Wayland and Wufei watched the interrogation from the sea cabin via cameras. The both of them were rather anxious. The ship had been patrolling off the coast of Indonesia for the past six hours and had even requested further assistance from two destroyers from Makassar, but without an actual rendezvous location, the search for the Barton Foundation's frigate crew's contact was rather hopeless.

"You think she can break him?" Captain Wayland asked.

"Sure," Wufei replied. "The question is if she can do it in time."

"Truth be told, if they were going to rendezvous, it would've already happened by now," Captain Wayland said as he leaned back into his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "We're eight at least eight hours behind…"

"You're probably be right," Wufei replied. "But I'd still like to get as much information out of this kid as I can."

"She's got a way about her, doesn't she?" Captain Wayland said. "Didn't take her to be an interrogator. When we picked her up last night, it look like she wrecked that entire frigate by herself."

"She has… many talents," Wufei replied.

Heero woke up an hour before dawn. He lay awake staring at the moon outside the tall windows of Relena's bedroom. A full night's sleep had eluded him once again. Tonight was different however. It wasn't the nightmares that kept him awake tonight. It was the events of the night, the flurry of revelations and confessions, the sudden and unexpected change in the nature of their relationship. He wanted to believe it was just the alcohol, that both of them were just acting impulsively because of it but somehow he knew it wasn't that simple. Things between them had never been that simple.

He looked over at Relena, who was fast asleep beside him; the picture of angelic perfection. It baffled him how he managed to end up in her bed, sleeping next to her. Against every bodily urge, he had managed to stop himself from taking her that night. It would have been the perfect time, the perfect moment, given everything that they had both said and done. Something told him that if he tried, she wouldn't have stopped him. And he didn't want her to make that mistake.

Heero couldn't escape it, as much as he tried, the feeling of inadequacy. No matter how much she told him otherwise, no matter how she reassured him, he knew, deep in his bones, that he wasn't good enough for her.

He sat up and stretched his back. Her bed was far softer than what he was used to. He looked over at her. The rhythmic and gentle rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still asleep. Good, he didn't want to wake her.

"You."

He remembered her question from hours ago. It had been seared into his brain. And it was only now, when he knew there was no chance of her hearing him, that he could answer.

"You are the only thing I want in this life." He said softly. "But you already know that. I think you do at least. Is that why you keep hounding me? Asking me about us? What would I know about us? Why ask me like I would have any answers whatsoever? I am a soldier Relena. I always have been. My oldest memories are of fighting in the streets and taking apart and reassembling guns. How could I be worthy of you? How could I love you properly?"

He looked over at her. Still asleep, still peaceful, still innocent of the burden of the questions he had just asked. Good. He wasn't expecting an answer. He felt a deep sense of shame, that he could only express his innermost thoughts when no one, least of all Relena, was listening.

"I don't know why you won't just let go. Aren't I hurting you? I feel like that's the only thing I'm capable of when I'm this close to you. You ask about us, but what us can there be? You have the grace of a princess, the charm of a politician, the heart of one who can maintain this peace. I am a remnant from another age, to be pitied and cared for in this new enlightened one. How can I be anything to you? Let alone a boyfriend or a husband… The moment you take me anywhere public, you will see me as they see me, a murderer and a cretin. I can only embarrass you publicly and hurt you privately. So yes… you are what I want. You are the only one I have ever wanted."

He looked over at her once again. Still asleep.

"I just know that I can't have you."

Sally slid the door closed behind her as she made her way into the sea cabin. Wufei and Captain Wayland had heard everything that Sally managed to get out of the boy. The news was disheartening but it was useful intel nonetheless. While he didn't know the name of the ship they were supposed to rendezvous with nor did he know the name of the contact, apparently the senior members had kept him out of the loop for most of the operation, he did know the time and the location of their rendezvous, as well as the name of the front organization they were dealing with. Unfortunately they were way off in the search area and the contact will have fled by now.

"So what now?" Sally asked, sounding genuinely unsure. "Do you think we can catch them?"

"There's no ship in the world that can make up that much lost time," Captain Wayland replied.

"If only we had an Aries," Wufei said.

"Don't think like that," Sally replied. "We aren't at war."

"Not yet anyway," Wufei commented.

"Wufei…"

The three of them fell into a silence. They were playing a game of chess with an opponent they did not know, not understanding which pieces were still in play. Wufei looked out the window at the sea. Endless water from horizon to horizon, he felt the rhythmic ebb and flow of the water that kept them afloat. He considered their past work, their months of raids and intel gathering. He wondered if they had been intentionally lead astray.

"What was the name of the front again?" Wufei asked.

"Lucio Internationale," Captain Wayland answered. "They are a multinational shipping conglomerate based out of Buenos Aires."

"Right, then we start there," Sally said.

"They're a multi-billion operation with connections across all of the Americas, South East Asia, and several colonies," Captain Wayland said. "They have contracts with several territorial governments. You're going to find it rather difficult to get Brussels to even entertain the idea let alone issue subpoenas."

"He's right," Wufei said. "And it seems rather unlikely that it is the whole organization. They have a vested interest in maintaining peace. It's the lifeblood of their business."

"You're suggesting the Barton Foundation has someone on the inside…" Sally said gravely.

"Perhaps the Barton Foundation itself has spread its tendrils further than we thought," Wufei said as he leaned against the desk. His eyes dropped to the floor in deep thought. "We've been chasing them around these islands for months now. Capturing men and machinery here and there but nothing major. We assumed they were directionless, disorganized… but what if that was the plan?"

"That makes sense, I mean what do we have to show for our operations, a few dozen mercenaries and a handful of ill-maintained Serpents."

"We've been thinking about them in terms of an armed force," Wufei continued. "But that's not what they are anymore. They are a guerrilla organization now."

"But we don't have access to Lucio's personnel files," Sally said. "And even if the Preventers request them, I'm sure they'll notify their command structure immediately and change up."

"We're too loud," Wufei said, still deep in thought. "They can see every move we make but we can't see them at all."

It was the itch in her throat that woke her up, that feeling of dried tonsil rubbing up against itself with the texture of a fine grain sandpaper. It was the surest sign that she had just experienced a night of heavy drinking. She reached out for her the glass of water she had left on her bedside table the night before. Experience had taught her to prepare for the coming morning and she was nothing if not prepared.

The water rejuvenated her immediately. She knew as soon as she got out of bed, she would feel the unevenness of the weight of her body, that peculiar sense of balance, and the inevitable headache that came with hangovers, but for now she felt renewed.

Leaning her head back against the headboard of her bed, she felt a slight stirring. Peeking down she saw Heero turn slightly as she shifted her position. She had nearly forgotten that he was there. Then, the memories of the night before came rushing back into her mind. Oh god, did all of that, any of that really happen? Did he really tell her that he loved her? Did he really open up to her like that? Was that all just a dream she conjured up in her drunken state? No, that couldn't be. He was where she had left him, sleeping serenely beside her. In fact, he was exactly where she had left him. He hadn't inched closer to her at all. He was Heero after all, despite his uncharacteristic openness from the night before.

But one thing had changed from the night before. He had taken off his shirt. Perhaps sleeping in a dress shirt was too uncomfortable even for the likes of Heero Yuy. She understood, she had to wear them as a part of her attire for work and they had always felt constraining, even the most expensive and well made ones. And just then, staring at his naked torso, those thoughts, so fleeting from the night before came back to her with a furry. But somehow this was different. Perhaps it was because felt rested and renewed from the tortures of the night before. Perhaps the morning inherently conjured up a different mood. Perhaps the fact that he was still here and didn't take off in the middle of the night made her feel that much more secure. Whatever it was, she was unprepared.

It wasn't that Relena was completely naϊve to the desires of the flesh. She had both experienced that desire and been the object of that desire many times before. In addition to the usual articles, usually of a political nature, that featured her, occasionally she would appear in tabloids for more frivolous reasons. Top 10 hottest women in politics. Princess Relena bares her midriff. Things of that nature, no doubt, there would be a fresh round of such articles following the events of the previous night. But all of that felt so distant, so intellectual rather than experiential. She understood that she was an attractive woman and she knew what she liked in a man, she read magazines and watched movies after all. But this was different. This was visceral, primal, bringing forth urges that she didn't fully understand and couldn't quite control.

It was the contours of his abs, the way that undulated with his gentle breath. The oblique muscles that drew a perfect V, converging somewhere south of his pant line, pointing at something so obvious, Relena blushed at the mere thought. For all of her political talents and her natural grace and charm, she was still just a girl, unpracticed in the matters of the flesh. Seeing him bare, in all his exquisite beauty, with both the natural smoothness of his muscles and the scars of a horrific past, made her unnerved yet aroused.

She felt her hand draw towards him, instinctively wanting to touch him. She snapped it back. Not wanting to wake him and definitely not wanting to be caught in such a compromising act. What was is wrong with me?! She was in uncharted territory, swimming in unfamiliar waters.

Relena jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. She closed to door quietly as to not wake him, although she felt like slamming it shut. She turned on the shower and cranked it so that it searing hot before stripping out of her nightie and jumping in. She did this rarely, her life was far too busy for this kind of self care. It had been months since her last private session. But this moment demanded it, she couldn't help herself. She needed the release.

"Is this her coming of age? Perhaps it is too early to say but one thing is for certain, this is a side of Relena Darlian that we haven't seen before. Back to you Kendra."

"Thanks Benny," the woman said as she raised her eyebrows subtly and tapped her stylus on the tablet sitting in front of her. "Well, I have to say, I think she looked gorgeous. I think we tend to forget because of her outsized role in the war, that she is still a teenage girl. She deserves to have some fun."

"Yes but this is highly unorthodox," the man sitting across countered. "She is a public servant and a public servant has certain standards to uphold. She made a public statement about the housing issue just a few hours before this. An issue, well outside her jurisdiction I might remind everyone. Are we meant to take her seriously? One minute she's the forceful voice of peace and justice in Brussels, the next moment she's a out of control party girl?"

"I hardly think she's a out of control party girl," Kendra said.

"And who was that man she jumped onto the motorcycle with," the man continued. "Is he just some random guy at that college party? Are we really supposed to trust her judgement with issues of trade and diplomacy when we see her act like this?"

"Idiots."

Without averting her eyes from the television, Mariemaia brought another spoonful of cereal up to her mouth. She sat cross legged in the very center of the sectional couch watching as the two talking heads went back and forth. She found them absolutely insufferable but yet she couldn't stop watching. This was her ritual on Saturday mornings. Most children her age would be on another channel watching cartoons or playing outside, still others might still be asleep. But Mariemaia was peculiar. There was a time in her life when she thought she would be the leader of Earth. Even at that young age, without fully understanding the gravity of the responsibility, she took it as seriously as she could. Part of that attitude manifested itself in the relentless consumption of news and politics, even that of the lowest quality like Saturday morning punditry.

For her part, Katerina thought it rather unhelpful. There was still a stench of Dekim in this habit, a residual programming that hadn't yet faded from Mariemaia's personality. But given everything else that was going on in their life, Katerina considered Mariemaia's rabid consumption of news to be the least of her worries. It was good for the young girl to have routines and things she genuinely enjoyed even if it was something rather odd for her age.

Katerina sat at the kitchen bar in a crimson bathrobe, eating her own bowl of cereal while she caught up on some work emails. She did her best to cook on weekday nights to create some semblance of a home life for Mariemaia and wasn't half bad at it, but that aspect of motherhood was not her passion. Cereal in the morning would be just fine. It was rather luxurious compared to what she was used to. Before she was promoted to colonel, Katerina lived off of military rations in instant oatmeal for years, hence that had become her standard for nourishment.

Request for encrypted communication.

The notification came up on both her phone and her laptop. It must've been Sally reporting back. Deciding that she would rather not take the call in earshot of Mariemaia, she picked up her devices and stood up to move to her office around the corner from the living room.

"Don't spill anything," Katerina said dryly as she moved passed Mariemaia.

"I won't," Mariemaia replied in a similarly monotonous tone.

Her office at home was similar to the one she had at the Valknut. It was a glass protruded slightly from main house and was aso primarily a construction of glass although outside was a view of a military cemetery but her own backyard. She sat down at her desk, touched her table to darken the windows as to not be disturbed during her private call.

She answered.

"This is Water, reporting in."

"This is Gold, go ahead."

"Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?" Sally asked.

"Did you get the name of the contact?" Katerina asked.

"That's the bad news," Sally said.

"Damn it…"

"The good news is that we think they are somehow connected to a multinational corporation based out of South America with deep political and financial ties to the World Government," Sally answered blithely.

There was a moment's pause.

"How in the world is that good news?" Katerina asked.

"It's not… good news perse," Sally said awkwardly. "But it is a start."

"If you think I'm going to Security Council with this—"

"Okay, calm down," Sally interrupted. "I know that's an unreasonable ask."

"Then what are you asking exactly?"

"Permission to investigate this further," Sally said.

Katerina sighed. "We don't have the resources in the region. I'm not sure if we even have a single high level contact…"

"What?" Sally could tell by the way her words trailed of that Katerina just had an idea.

He was gone.

Her bed was empty. He must've stepped out when she was in the shower. Just like that, she felt a sudden wait in her stomach. And to think she had just… finished to the thought of him. This was typical of Heero but after what had happened the night before, even for him, this was outrageous. Her sadness would've turned to red hot anger had she not, right then and there, noticed that his shirt was still on the floor on his side of the bed.

He was still here. It made no sense for him to take off without his shirt. Perhaps, he just got up to use another bathroom. That made the most sense. Her anger and her sadness melted away in an instant but a new frustration overtook her. How was she going to find him? There were more bathrooms than she could count in the palace.

For whatever reason, perhaps the smell, perhaps she needed the insurance that he wouldn't run away after that near miss, she picked up his shirt and threw it on before she ran off to go look for him. She searched the entire second floor, some twenty or so rooms and all of their attached bathrooms. He wasn't in any of them and half of them were still under construction. She considered going up to the third floor and checking those but that made little sense. The fewer of the upstairs rooms were completed and why would he be up there anyway? She rushed down the Grand Staircase and passed her shoes that she had left in the Great Hall the night before. She checked the drawing rooms, living rooms, and sitting rooms, dining halls, and libraries until she reached the family kitchen.

He was there. And a good thing too because she was getting rather winded running through the house checking every single room. But there he was, standing over the stove. She could hear the crackling of something being fried. Perhaps it was because of her shower activities or perhaps it was just the sight of his bare back but she felt another sudden flood of arousal surge through her body. What is happening to me?

A vision of what could be; him standing there looking majestic, cooking breakfast, her watching him with complete admiration. If only they both had the courage of their convictions. If they could just let go of the war and save each other from their mutual loneliness and muted despair. If only they would let themselves be happy. Perhaps, they could have this forever.

He turned to face her.

"Good morning," he said in his usual way.

Relena leaned her head against the wall and relaxed into a smile. "Hi."