Author's Note: First off, I would like to thank all of my readers new and old for sticking with me this long. I know sometimes I go for long stretches of time without updating and I do apologize for that. I want to say to those who reviewed the previous chapter, I'm so thankful, I know it has taken a LONG time to get to this point in the story and I was worried about delivering a satisfactory pay off for the twenty some odd chapters of build up. I'm so glad you guys enjoyed it and I loved each and every one of the reviews. Anyway, the story isn't ending or anything. We've just reached a significant milestone and I would just like to show my appreciation for those who have stuck with this story.
Christmas Day
Paris, France
December 25th, AC 198
Relena was sure that she has gone mad. That she was being punished for her sins. For her lust. She had given up her virtue and had fallen into temptation, betrayed all her good breeding and principles for the base desires of the flesh. What's more, she had initiated it herself. Or perhaps, she had been manipulated. Perhaps she had been duped by the master strategist.
Had he been playing the long long game? Was it all an act? Did he so expertly affected his tortured demeanour all so that he could have her in the back of his car, so to speak? Was this revenge? Revenge for what? Ripping up his card that he had given her at the spaceport at the end of the war? But he had done that to her during his first day at St. Gabriel. A million and one nonsensical thoughts like those ran through her head that night.
Yes, I must be going mad, Relena thought.
But of course such thoughts were natural when one was sleep deprived. Relena checked her phone, it was 5 o'clock in the morning and she hadn't slept a wink. She bit her lip, she tried to concentrate, thrust her hips against her hands, her raw clit grinding desperately against her middle finger. At this point it was hurting but she couldn't stop. It had become a compulsion.
Every time she would close her eyes, images of his hair, of his shoulders that bulged, straining the fabric of his dress shirt, his chest that she had so frantically revealed in the darkness of that mobile suit cockpit, would all come flooding back into her mind and she would need to release her tensions all over again.
She had cum five or six times already and her sheets were a drenched mess. That was another such surprise of the night. Heero made her squirt, she didn't even know she could do that. No doubt, they left a giant stain on the seat of the Wing Zero. Hopefully no one would notice.
She had the good sense to take herself into the shower in the bathroom attached to her room but after a couple of times and realizing it wasn't going to stop, nor that would she fall asleep that night, she gave up on trying to stay clean or keep the smell of sex out of her room. Sure, it would be a little embarrassing in the morning when the maid came into her room and discovered her mess but the alternative was going completely crazy with lust.
Her fingers were a poor substitute for his cock, nor could she simulate his powerful thrust with her hands alone. He was hard as steel and searing hot, he filled her to the point of bursting it. She had never felt so satisfied before. He rose like a wave, a wave that she rode eagerly and skillfully, at least for a newbie. He had a way of controlling her, pinning her lower body down as he thrust deeply into her, penetrating into unknown parts every time. She learned so many things, so many obvious and stupid things that she had never considered before.
The purpose of a G-string wasn't so that she would have no panty lines in a tight dress or yoga pants. It was so that he would have limitless access with his cock. All he had to do was pull that thin thread to the side and she was his for the taking. A thong was a lie, a thin veneer of propriety over the obvious truth that she wanted and needed to be fucked. He proved that lie when his fingers laced themselves into her golden G-string and pulled it aside and plunged hardness deep into her.
I'll pretend to be wearing underwear and you pretend to work hard to get around it.
Oh God it was perfect, the way his fingers tightened and stretched it, the way they pressured her butt cheek, the way he used the tension of the the fabric to massage her clit while driving into her. In the exhibit of Queen Relena of the Sanc Kingdom, Arbiter of Peace, they'll have to display the thong she lost her virginity in as one of her most prized possessions.
Wait what?! Yes, I'm definitely going crazy!
Oh and the heels, she had always thought that they were so tall to give her a bit of extra height and to make her legs look a little longer. Another naïve construction of her infantile imagination. No, she learned that their purpose was for his grip, for he so ably controlled her whole lower body by holding firm onto the stem her heels. But then so many things were grips to him, her hips, her lower back, her shoulders, her breasts, her hair! Yes, he was a master of the hair pull as well, once dominating her effortlessly and yet communicating his desperate lust for her all with one powerful yet loving tug.
God damn it, Heero! How many kinks did you just give me?!
Indeed, she needed not just to cum but to cum the same way they had in the cockpit of the Wing Zero. She had dug up every thong she had at her mother's house, put them on, pulled them aside and fucked everything that she could find in her room, her fingers, her pillows, her bedpost, trying desperately to mimic his technique.
It just wasn't the same. Heero did it better. Heero fucked better.
She endured the initial pain, and he was gentle at the start, holding himself close to her, letting her feel his heartbeat, telling her how much he too felt this. But the heat of lust took them both not long after and she matched him thrust for thrust, so much so that she managed to shift the seat and pop out a few loose screws. A thousand mobile suits have tried and failed to break the legendary Wing Zero, but she could. Not bad for her first time.
But in the end, what had she accomplished that night? All she was left with was a bed covered in sweat and cum, half a dozen ripped panties, and her shoe closet strewn across her bedroom floor. She had utterly destroyed her room and she was no closer to satisfaction. She realized then, much to the horror, how badly she needed him.
There was a knock on the door. Was it time? Well she knew it was inevitable, she had given up on getting any sleep.
"Miss Relena," she heard a mousy voice from the other side of the door. "Her ladyship asked me to wake you. She is having guests over today."
"Yes, of course," Relena replied sounding exhausted. She had forgotten all about the party. "I'll be right down."
Relena languidly got out of bed. She walked over and opened the large windows of her room. It wasn't going to clear the smell of sex from her room but she hoped it would lessen the pungency. The brisk Paris air caressed her naked form. She stared out over the city just as the sun was rising.
Sanc Kingdom
With great consternation, Heero and Relena parted ways after waiting for an opportune moment to sneak out of the Wing Zero. They were among the last to leave the party, both because they wanted to squeeze every last moment out of their time together and because Relena had torn her dress in the heat of their passion and looked rather disheveled. She did not want to have to explain her appearance to half the guests and suffer the teasing of both her entourage and the Pilots while they high fived and congratulated Heero's long overdue conquest of her.
They said their goodbyes on the steps of the museum just as they were shutting down for the night. They clung to each other even then. She had to go to Paris for a few days but promised to come back to the Sanc Kingdom for New Years. Heero understood and wished her good luck with her mother and said that he understood if she changed her mind while in Paris, mother's could be stubborn. She wanted to slap him but she suddenly recognized the joke. He might actually be funny in his own deadpan way.
Heero arrived back in Vustgaarde a couple of hours later. He went to his apartment, a space he hadn't occupied in well over two months and immediately crashed. He slept the best sleep he had ever had in that apartment.
He woke up nine hours later and found himself back where he started all those months ago. The last time he was there, he had just finished up a report on campus activity that alarmed him and was off to deliver it to Director Une. How strange it felt to be back in his dingy apartment again. He left this place another person and now, things that seemed normal, things that seemed trivial and unimportant, suddenly took on new meaning.
It occurred to him that his apartment was little more than a single bed, a table for eating, working, and studying and little else. What a pitiful existence, he was sure Relena would think. He had various illegal weapons strewn about the place. He would have to get rid of those, or at least gather them up and hide them in a closet, tidy up, get a few plants, and a few pictures if he ever wanted to have her over. And he was pretty sure she would insist on it.
He spent the morning emptying out his fridge and cleaning the floors. He didn't actually have much in his fridge other than some old take out and some beers that were probably still good. And he wasn't in his apartment enough, even during the first half of the semester to really have dirtied it. But he needed to keep busy. He needed to keep his mind off of her because what he feared most was happening. He missed her. His body missed hers.
After he made his apartment spotless, he left, jumped on his motorcycle, and rode back to Peacecraft Palace. Upon his arrival, he was greeted by Pagan.
"I trust things went well, judging by the hour of your return," Pagan said, half teasingly half proudly.
"It's nothing like that. I just went back to my apartment for the night," Heero said as he took off his helmet and dismounted his bike.
"I'm sure," Pagan said knowingly.
"I came to return this," Heero said as he produced a bag and handed it to Pagan.
Pagan took it and looked inside. "Well… That's one way to transport a tuxedo."
"I didn't have a garment bag," Heero said with a smile as he pulled up his sleeve and removed the watch. "And here. It was very generous of you to lend me the watch."
"Think nothing of it, it seems to have done you some good," Pagan said. "You must be famished, will you come inside for something to eat? Everything must be closed in the city."
The Tulip Hotel, Brussels
She opened her eyes as the overcast light from the morning sky came flooding in through the large windows of the suite, momentarily blinding her. This is one of the reasons why she hated these damn modern hotels with their wall to wall windows. It was also ugly in her mind, far too modern, lacking in any old world flare. The furniture was boxy, the colours on the walls were fifty different shades of taupe, mauve, or grey. But it wasn't the decor that convinced her to stay the night. It was his fingers and the expert gentleness of his lips.
She stretched her legs as she sat up. She sat there, trying find her centre of balance once again as she had a slight headache from having a few too many drinks from the night before. There was a glass of water and some aspirin on the night table beside her. She took a sip and felt the coldness of the water rejuvenate and wake her body. She felt his hand gently touch her hips and travel up and down her back.
"Don't," Dorothy said as she turned her head slightly. "I'm disappointed in myself already."
"There's nothing to be disappointed about," Quatre said as he continued to caress her naked form. "Neither of us have anyone else at the moment. We are consenting adults, we can do what we like."
"You know, everyone thinks I'm the bitch and you're the nice one," Dorothy said. "How wrong they are…"
"I'm not nice?" Quatre asked.
"You are a con man, Quatre Raberba Winner," Dorothy said as she took another sip of water. "You use your niceness as a weapon, to trick and seduce women."
"Don't think of that way," Quatre said as he shifted himself over to herself of the bed.
He sat up and placed his hand on her thigh and gently kissing her shoulders and her neck. She inadvertently let out a soft moan.
"Think of it as finishing what we started on Libra," Quatre murmured.
She caught herself before she was sucked in once again. She stood up, just narrowly escaping his gentle but expert hand.
"We finished that business after the Battle of Brussels," Dorothy said as she scoured the floor for her panties. "And again the day after."
"And again the day after that," Quatre said.
"The account is closed, Quatre," Dorothy said as she slid into her panties.
"Then what was last night?" Quatre asked as he sat in the bed watching Dorothy put on the stained and creased dress from last night.
"That was a mistake," Dorothy said as she looked at herself in the mirror and tried to make herself look presentable.
"Well if it was, it was a pleasant mistake," Quatre said.
"For you maybe," Dorothy remarked.
"I didn't hear any complaints from you last night," Quatre said.
"What do you want from me, Quatre?" Dorothy asked as she put her hands on her hips.
"For you to come back to bed," Quatre answered.
Dorothy flashed him a devilish smile as she made her way towards the bed again. She crawled on all fours as she pinned him down. She stuck her hand underneath the duvet and found his cock and began to stroke it. He instantly became hard again.
"Is this what you want?" Dorothy whispered into Quatre's ear.
"Yes…" Quatre whispered as he closed his eyes.
"Well, sorry, I can't stay," Dorothy said as she jumped off of the bed, leaving him thoroughly unsatisfied.
"What?!"
"I have to go to Paris," Dorothy said as she collected her heels. "Mrs. Darlian is hosting her annual Christmas Dinner and I've been invited for the first time."
"What about me?" Quatre asked. "What about this?!"
Dorothy looked over at him, his naked torso, and the tent he was currently erecting. She had to admit, he did look good. In fact, that was the most infuriating part about him, that and those damn desperate puppy dog eyes.
"You own this hotel," Dorothy said. "Get one of the maids to help you."
Ixelles, Brussels
Director Une was widely regarded as a stern commander, an efficient administrator, and a capable spy. She had earned her reputation through her time in OZ, for her action against Libra, and for organizing the resistance against Mariemaia's Rebellion. She had the fear of her subordinates and the respect of her colleagues. But she was not loved the way the charismatic strongmen of the previous age were. Nor did she care to be. That was not who she was.
But one day a year, she broke with that carefully constructed persona. On Christmas Day, it had become customary for the Director of the The Preventers to have over to her house a cabal of division heads, agency allies, and close friends, both personal and professional, for a feast. And for the first time since she started this tradition two years ago, she felt like she actually had something to celebrate.
Une had hired caterers for the event for while her cooking was decent enough to feed Mariemaia and herself, she didn't have the skill nor the capacity to feed a whole host of guests. They had been setting up for the better part of the morning. Indeed, they had already gotten started before she woke up. Naturally, Mariemaia was trying to commandeer the whole operation but the event coordinator was good natured enough to humour the young girl.
Une was going through her guest list on the phone as she was sampling some strawberries in the kitchen when she came across Duo's name.
Crap, she thought.
She remembered that he had been pretty drunk the night before and in fact was the not first time that she had encountered him inebriated. She tried to call him. No answer. She tried again. No answer.
She called Heero.
Relena took a quick shower, her third within the last eight hours, got dressed, and put on some makeup before heading out of her room to meet her mother at the front door. She wore a grey cross wrap sweater, it was the first thing she found, black leggings, and a pair of burgundy knee-high boots. She was presentable, or just about, much human looking than the radiant goddess that she was the night before. Her mother disapproved of her appearance but said nothing as there wasn't any time for her to go back to her room and change. And she really didn't want to have that fight just as the guests were arriving.
The Darlians, Relena's extended relations on her late father's side, were the first of the guests to arrive. One by one they entered and greeted Mareen and Relena. They were, in order of their appearance, Arthur, Relena's grandfather, Beatrice, Relena's grandmother, Stella, Relena's aunt, Angel and Katherine, Relena's cousins and the son and daughter of Stella respectively, and Daniel and little Nicholas, Katherine's husband and infant son.
Relena didn't particularly know any of them very well and had a hard time recalling their names most of the time. She hadn't seen them since before the war. And even then it was just a few times a year at dinners and gatherings such as these. It surprised Relena that her mother had even invited them at all, for as far as she knew, they hadn't been on the best of terms since the death of her father. But perhaps it was time to patch things up. It had been nearly three years after all.
They were as polite as customs demanded. However, Arthur and Beatrice seemed particularly glad to see Relena again. Relena couldn't tell if that was because they had seen her transformation from the 15 year old daughter of their assassinated son, to becoming Queen of the World, to becoming an important government minister, or if they genuinely missed her. As she recalled, Arthur was the Earl of Northampton and the Count of Rugård and was a prominent member of Romefeller. Perhaps their appearance was a strategic as it was sincere.
"Relena, my darling granddaughter," Beatrice said as she gave Relena a kiss on the cheek. "It's been far too long."
"Yes, it has grandmama," Relena replied politely.
"Well, I do hope you will make some time for me tonight," Beatrice said. "I want to hear all about your life since the end of the war. Your mother told me that you are attending Vustgaarde University."
"Yes, that's right," Relena said.
"Good, that's very good. Many Peacecrafts and Darlians have passed through those halls. You are in good company," Beatrice remarked.
Relena took a deep breath of relief after she and her mother had finished greeting the Darlians. They gave each a congratulatory glance before the next set of guests came in.
Dorothy arrived not soon after the Darlians. She was dressed in a light brown trench coat, oval sunglasses, a blue dress, and matching heels. Mareen was thrilled to see her and greeted her warmly with a big hug.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Lady Darlian," Dorothy said, sounding a little out of breath.
"Oh my dear, you're not at all late," Mareen said. "I'm so glad you could make it."
"Thank you for inviting me. I wouldn't miss it for the world," Dorothy said.
Having greeted Mareen, Dorothy moved on to Relena. She approached with her signature devious smile. She gave Relena a quick glance and noted her tired expression.
"You look like hell," Dorothy said.
"You got a little something in your hair," Relena replied quickly as she lifted her hand to touch Dorothy's hair.
Stunned, Dorothy took a step back and ran her fingers through her hair, only to feel nothing.
"Nice try," Dorothy said as her smile returned.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, both of them with a little devious glint in their eyes. Dorothy wasn't sure if she liked this newly deflowered Relena, she was sharper, quicker, and most impressively, she fought back. Had Heero's cock been so good as to change Relena's personality altogether? This would be interesting at the very least.
"I missed you for the rest of the night," Dorothy said changing into a more polite if still rather insincere tone of voice.
"Really? Must've been preoccupied," Relena mirrored Dorothy's affected voice.
"Yes, I must admit I was quite distracted by the centrepiece of the exhibit. It was… quite revealing, don't you think?" The ends of Dorothy's lips curled ever so slightly.
Relena mirrored her little smile. She was undeterred. Okay, you caught me, Relena thought. But I caught you too.
"I saw you leaving with Quatre," Relena remarked.
"We shared a car," Dorothy explained simply.
"And a hotel?" Relena asked.
"I'm currently living at the Hotel Metropole," Dorothy said. "We were going the same way."
"How convenient."
They giggled into unison into their clenched fists. It was all they could do, not to collapse onto the ground and burst into laughter like a couple of lunatics.
Once they had managed to suppress their girlish giggles, Dorothy cleared her throat and said. "Well Merry Christmas to us both, it would seem."
They high fived each other as Dorothy made her way into the apartment.
Kuregem, Brussels
Kuregem was one of the areas of the city worst hit by Mariemaia's Rebellion. It was one of the landing zones for the first wave of Serpents that the rebel army deployed. And it was one of the areas that saw the most fighting. Nearly 70% of the buildings had been destroyed or otherwise were rendered uninhabitable. In the ensuing scramble for reconstruction funding in the months following the rebellion, lacking a strong base of political support, Kuregem received comparatively little. Reconstruction efforts in the area had been slow and while many residence have returned, many have abandoned the once prosperous area, leaving it a bastion for squatters, criminals, and the poor.
Heero wandered through the dilapidated streets and through the abandoned alleyways of Kuregem trying to find the address that Une had given him. She asked him to check up on Duo, whom she worried had a little too much to drink the night before. Heero could easily believe that. She asked him if he could get Duo to her house by dinner time.
When Heero eventually found the motel that Duo was at staying at, he knocked on Duo's room for a few minutes. No answer. He asked the manager for a key but only got a hostile stare. Heero had to pick the lock to get in. He found Duo, lying face down on his bed, still in his Preventers uniform from the night before, with dried vomit stains next to him.
Heero grabbed Duo by the collar of his jacket, dragged his unconscious body out of bed, and threw him in the shower. Heero turned on the water. Immediately, Duo's eyes burst open.
"Hey! What the hell?!"
"Get yourself right," Heero said as he placed a towel on the handle next to the shower. "I'm taking you out for breakfast."
Duo took a few moments just to let the hot water warm his body and soothe his muscles. He was hungover and dehydrated. He emerged from the shower nearly half an hour later with a towel wrapped around his waist, his long hair unbraided, and an expression of death upon his face. Heero waited in the empty chair next to the TV.
"Take those, drink that," Heero said as he pointed to the pills and the bottle of water on the dresser.
Duo complied and swallowed the pills and downed the bottle of water. He then pulled an old black T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans out of the dresser and sat at the edge of his bed to put them on.
"Merry Christmas, Heero," Duo said groggily. "Good to see ya. Although, I thought you might be spending the day with your new beau."
"She's in Paris at her mother's, I'll see her after," Heero said.
"Ahh, mothers can be tough," Duo said as he slid into his Mötorhead T-shirt. "Want my advice? Flowers. You bring her flowers."
Heero didn't say anything else. He just sat there and waited for Duo to finish braiding his hair.
Geneva, Switzerland
The soothing sound of a violin softly playing grew louder as she opened the door. It had been a long time since she had set foot in that house. She was trying to discreet, hoping to sneak into the house and perhaps even make it to her bedroom unnoticed. No such luck. As soon as she entered, before she could even kick the snow off of her boots, she was intercepted by Linda, the housekeeper.
"Ahh, you've finally arrived! Welcome home! I'll go and get your mother!" The pudgy housekeeper said as she ran over and gave Hope a quick hug before scurrying off again.
Hope looked around at the tall ceilings and minimalist windows of the foyer, the large wooden bench next to the front door, the plants that sat in the corner of the room, the black iron staircase that led up to the second floor sitting room. She could smell her mother's baking coming from the kitchen. She could hear the murmured voices of her father and her brothers talking in the living room. She was home. How odd it was to think that she was back here in the comfort and safety of her home when not two months ago she was halfway across the globe, a fugitive from the local authorities, disobeying the orders of her superior, complicit in an act of destruction she could've never even imagined.
A few seconds later, Hope's mother, Anna appeared around the corner. She looked good. Better than Hope remembered. Perhaps, Hope being out of her hair had done her some good.
"Hope, my darling. It's so good to see you," Anna said as she ran over and gave her daughter a big hug.
Hope hugged her back.
"It's good to see you, Merry Christmas mama," Hope said softly.
"Merry Christmas, my darling girl," Anna replied.
"Come in, take a load off. I'll tell your father and your brothers you've arrived," Anna said as she went back into the kitchen. "You must be exhausted."
Hope dropped her bag on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. It was strange to be home.
Heero and Duo found a little cafe just a few blocks away from where Duo had been living. It was one of the few establishments that was open. The cafe's dirty windows and dim lights did not give off a friendly atmosphere. Nor did its patrons who were just a few old men sitting in the back, reading their newspapers, and smoking their cigars that no doubt violated the building code. Heero and Duo sat down in the corner by the windows as a young waitress came by to serve them. They ordered pancakes, eggs, sausages, bacon, fruits, and a lot of coffee.
Duo ate with great enthusiasm. Heero merely sipped on his coffee and watched his friend stuff his face. How funny, he thought. Their expression of their post-war trauma, which Heero was starting to understand after going to group, manifested in such disparate ways and yet he could immediately recognize and empathize with Duo's suffering. Heero had trouble sleeping and often relied on sleeping pills just to get through the night. Duo's curse was alcohol and the savage aftermath of its effects, which Heero was currently witnessing.
"You don't have to baby sit me," Duo said with a mouthful of eggs and sausage.
"Actually I do," Heero said as he took a sip of his coffee. "At least for today, I am my brother's keeper."
Duo smiled as some grease dribbled out the corner of his mouth. "Look at you with the scripture."
"How'd I do?" Heero asked.
Duo grabbed a napkin, wiped his face, and took a big gulp of coffee. "Doesn't suit you. Stick to quoting Nietzsche."
"Are you going to be okay?" Heero asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a little too much to drink last night is all," Duo said with a big burp.
After finishing their breakfast, they ordered two coffees to go before paying their bill. They wandered around the empty streets of that war torn neighbourhood for a bit. Heero was hoping that the fresh air do Duo some good.
The last time the they had seen these streets this empty was during the Battle of Brussels. How exciting it was back then. What a sense of purpose they had. What glorious death awaited them. Being there again almost two years to the day, seeing the scars of their war still present on the face of those abandoned buildings, put into perspective how twisted was their addiction.
"It's like a ghost town," Duo said.
"Well it is Christmas Day," Heero said. "Most people are at home."
"Then why aren't you home?" Duo looked at Heero with a knowing smile.
"I have a mission, you," Heero answered.
"Do you ever not work a holiday?" Duo asked.
"Yeah, new year's resolution," Heero answered.
"You're getting sentimental in your old age," Duo remarked.
Heero smiled. There was hint a hint of a laugh.
"So how do I do this?" Heero asked for a few moments.
"What?" Duo asked.
"This. Life. Whatever," Heero stammered.
"Fuck if I know," Duo said as he took a sip of his coffee. "Don't you think I'd be doing it?"
"You ever feel like you're not cut out for it?" Heero asked.
"That you don't deserve to be happy?" Duo finished his thought. He knew exactly what Heero meant.
"Yeah."
"Every minute of everyday, my friend," Duo answered gravely.
A melancholy silence fell between them for a moment. It was unsaid and would remain unsaid but something between them was changing and neither of them were comfortable admitting it. Their paths, however subtly, however unnoticeably now, were starting to diverge. As recently as the day before, both of them were heading towards their eventual and inevitable self-destruction. And while Duo was happy for his friend that he got off the train when he did, he couldn't help but feel that the ride off the proverbial cliff was going to be that much lonelier now.
"But I'll tell you this, it is unnatural, especially for us," Duo said breaking the silence, with an unexpected enthusiasm. "I mean you have to figure when the mad scientists trained a bunch of strays to pilot a crew of death machines, happiness wasn't part of the equation. But it's like anything else that's unnatural, doesn't mean it isn't good. Doesn't mean you shouldn't want it. It just takes practice, persistence, like riding a bike, or swimming, or homework, or Zero-G target practice."
Heero merely stared at Duo for a moment. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Duo asked.
"You trying to be happy?" Heero asked point blank.
"Ahh, you know how I feel about homework," Duo said as he forced out a laugh.
"So no Hope then…" Heero said.
"Poor girl," Duo said with a hint of anguish and regret in his voice. "I wouldn't want to put her through that."
"This is delicious, mother," Hope said breaking the silence around the dinner table.
"Thank you, my darling," her mother said with a smile.
Christmas dinner had always been a quiet sombre affair at the de Vries house. Hope's father, Lucas, was a career soldier and had once been a high ranking Alliance officer and carried that discipline with him his whole life. It was that sense of order and strictness that characterized Hope's childhood and adolescence and indeed the atmosphere of their current dinner.
Her brothers, Lucien and Matteo, sat beside her, picking away at their food. On the other of the table sat her father and her mother, along with an empty seat where, Tristan, the eldest son would have sat. His absence was a silent weight on the room.
"So how is work?" Her father asked, reluctantly engaging her in conversation.
"It's good," Hope answered.
"Just good?" Her father asked.
"Yes." Hope immediately regretted opening her mouth. She wasn't up for getting interrogated by her father in front of her brothers. It immediately brought back painful memories of her high school years.
"I've been following the news surrounding Lucio attack. You wouldn't be involved in that would you?" Her father asked.
"I can't really talk about it," Hope said.
"No, of course not," her mother interjected.
Again, what sparse conversation there was faded into the crackling of the fireplace behind her father. Hope felt like she was suffocating.
"So, any word from Tristan?" Hope finally asked.
Without saying a single word or even looking up at Hope, Lucas put down his fork, wiped his mouth with the napkin, got up and walked away from the table. Anna immediately shot Hope a disapproving glare as if to say what's wrong with you?
Her brothers said nothing.
"I see," Hope said as she looked down at her plate. "I guess we're just never going to talk about this."
"You know how upset your father gets when his name is mentioned," Anna said in a scolding tone of voice. "Why would you bring that up today of all days?"
The dining room at Mareen's Saint Germain-des-Prés apartment was filled with some thirty people. The guests in attendance included members of the Parisian Aristocracy, former members of Romefeller, and a few city dignitaries, including the mayor and his wife. Mareen had spared no expense. She had hired footmen for the occasion (when normally she only had her butler), decorated the whole apartment with majestic snow-covered garlands and wreaths. Mareen had a total of five Christmas trees in the house that year. One in the drawing room, one in the dining room, one in the foyer, one for her own bedroom, and one for Relena's room. Each meticulously and lovingly decorated by the combined efforts of Mareen and her interior decorator. Relena thought it was all a bit much as the whole apartment smelled of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts.
Relena had forgotten how rigid and stuffy these kinds of dinners could be. She was out of practice. The procedural niceties of turning and making conversation with your immediate neighbour, maintain a ridiculously stiff posture at all times, and keeping her utensils in order, that which had once been second nature to her, now took a considerable amount of mental effort. Luckily, she was the preeminent figure at the table, even if she wasn't the hostess. And could effort to break some of the rules of etiquette without earning the ire of anyone besides her mother. And she had already done that by being quite underdressed for the occasion.
Her presence itself was rather disruptive to the whole table as guests as far as five seats down on the opposite side of the table struggled to make conversation with her. Relena was, of course, extremely polite and talked to everyone in equal measure. They were all polite to her in turn, despite in all probability, being on the opposite end of the political spectrum from her.
Despite everyone's efforts to chat with her, she remained content to take a backseat role in the conversations that were being had around the table. She made speeches day in and day out at her job and the various charity events she attended on a regular basis and felt no need to take the lead when she didn't have to. Even on contentious political issues, many of which were deliberately brought up to try and provoke a response out of her. It might've worked, as Relena had a soft spot for the poor and the refugees and felt obligated to defend them at every turn. However this was her own house, or at least her mother's, and when it came to defending herself in conversation, she couldn't be less interested.
She spent the majority of the dinner covertly texting with Dorothy.
Relena: Why did you even come to this?
Dorothy: Because your mom invited me.
Relena: You're such a suck up.
Dorothy: A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do
Relena: Speaking of…
Dorothy: Babe, you're using your government number…
Relena: Oh shit! Forgot to switch
"I gather from your mother that you were in Brussels last night for the Armistice Ceremony. How was it?" Beatrice asked, distracting Relena from her text conversation.
"It was heartwarming," Relena said with a smile.
"Did you give a speech?" Arthur asked.
"Not this year, unfortunately," Relena said.
"Although, I do believe she was scheduled to give one," Dorothy said, trying to hide her devious grin.
"Oh? What happened?" Stella asked.
Relena glared at Dorothy.
"I got held up," Relena answered, trying to be as vague as possible.
"Oh what a shame," Stella said.
"I dare say that Relena gives too many speeches," Mareen commented. "She ought share the limelight once in a while."
"Besides, I think Director Une did a fine job covering for you." Dorothy glared back at Relena.
"She's another one," Arthur scoffed.
"Arthur!" Beatrice rebuked her husband.
"Oh please, mama, must you always be so proper?" Stella said, coming to the defense of her father.
"If you don't have anything nice to say," Beatrice said.
"And should I have anything nice to say about the woman who assassinated my brother?" Stella asked.
Relena looked around her table at her relations and their immediate neighbours. This was a topic of conversation that she was hoping to avoid, especially at Christmas dinner.
"Relena has forgiven her, we should learn from her example," Beatrice said as she smiled at Relena.
"Well it's different for her, she has a public image to maintain," Stella said. "And besides, that's not what I've heard."
"What have you heard?" Dorothy chimed in, sounding rather interested.
Relena couldn't tell if Dorothy was being noble by steering the direction of the conversation away from the topic of her father or being petty by instigating a new conversation about her recent feud with Une.
"Just that bygones may not be bygones, that's all," Stella said as she looked away and took a bite of her food.
"And who did you hear it from?" Dorothy pressed.
"Just the word around Brussels," Stella said.
Stella Darlian was a fixture around the Brussels social scene. She was a prominent member of the Romefeller Foundation and while infuriated by the assassination of her brother by OZ, continued to maintain strong ties with the other members of the Aristocracy. She was rumoured to be funding the court case against the demolition of the houses of the Aristocracy. Stella wasn't a politician and nominally had no interest in politics whatsoever but was active in the philanthropic community. She gave vast sums of money to her favourite charities, some of which lined up with Relena's causes. And while Relena did see her aunt from time to time in society pages, since Relena's time in Brussels was mostly eaten up by her work obligations, they rarely ever met in person. She supposed that Brussels was big enough a town for two Darlians.
Dorothy: Told you
Relena rolled her eyes when she read Dorothy's message.
Relena: Give it a rest
"I'll have you know that my recent misunderstanding with Katerina Une had nothing to do with my father. We've put that behind us," Relena said.
"Oh? Then what was it about?" Stella inquired.
"Work stuff," Relena answered, again vaguely.
"Speaking of, I heard remarkably little about the terraformation project during last month's budget fight, have you given up on the project?" Arthur asked.
"Certainly not, we're just going in a different direction," Relena answered.
"And what direction might that be," Arthur asked.
"We're looking into opening the project to private investors," Dorothy cut in.
"How exciting! What a splendid idea," Beatrice said.
"Actually, it was hers," Relena said, acknowledging Dorothy's contributions.
Dorothy blushed as their attention turned toward her. How fortune's wheels have turned. Just a few years ago, the Darlians, while by no means paupers, were considered the social inferiors to any member of the illustrious House of Catalonia. While wealthy and distinguished, the Darlians were marked with the stain of their attachment to the Royal House of Peacecraft and thus always viewed with a certain level of suspicion by the higher ranking members of Romefeller, which the Darlians soon joined after the collapse of the Sanc Kingdom. Arthur's position within Romefeller had always been subject to the whims and moods of Dermail. And yet, despite the shrewd maneuvering and ruthless tactics of the late duke, his house fell into ruin and the Darlians, ever steady and cautious in the face of the changes of that violent era, somehow found themselves one of the preeminent families in the post-War era. Their bane of sheltering the last member of the House of Peacecraft unexpectedly became their boon. And suddenly, it was the daughter of Chilias Catalonia that was now bowing and scraping for the approval of the Darlian household.
"Well, it's comforting to know that Relena is in good hands," Beatrice said approvingly.
The sun was just about to set when Heero delivered Duo to the bus stop. They had spent the day aimlessly roaming around the empty streets of Kuregem, sometimes in silence, sometimes accompanied by Duo's long winded and largely incoherent jeremiads. Heero mostly did the listening. Slowly but surely, Heero marched Duo around enough for him to shake his hangover, at least enough that he could put him on a bus and have him show up at Une's house without looking half dead.
"Alright, you good from here?" Heero asked.
"You're not coming with me to Une's party?" Duo asked, sounding a little surprised.
"I think I have something to do," Heero said.
"Well, good luck to you then," Duo said as he stretched out his arms. "Just don't fuck anything up while I'm gone."
"Same to you."
They stood staring at each other for a moment before they awkwardly embraced.
"Take care of yourself," Heero said.
Heero left Duo at the bus stop and went back to fetch his motorcycle. As he road down the desolate streets of Kuregem and made his way into the downtown core, his mind kept returning to what Duo had said earlier in the day. Happiness was an unnatural state of being. But so was maintaining a low heart rate while conscious. He had many unnatural abilities that had been cultivated through rigorous training and repeated exercise. Perhaps, Duo was right, he just needed to put himself into unknown situations and force himself to acclimate. It had been a necessity during the war. Perhaps it was an imperative in peace.
Heero arrived at the war museum fifteen minutes or so after he had left Duo at the bus stop. It was completely empty, it was dark, and there was no security. He took his motorcycle around to the back and found the same service door he had used the night before to sneak in. This time it was locked, but he had no trouble picking it and letting himself in. He made his way down the dark empty corridor of the museum and past the spot where he and Relena had their first real kiss.
He entered the Great Hall. He looked up. Wing Zero stared back at him. Good, it was still there.
It was a nice change of pace for Mariemaia to have people in the house. Normally, it was just her and Une. And while their home was perfectly habitable, it had been expertly crafted and decorated by a professional hand and it lacked a certain warmth. Although, she would never admit it, Mariemaia craved the attention of adults whom she admired.
To have the top brass of the Preventers there sitting at her table; Nolan Sideris, head of the Global Clandestine Division, Michele Linville, head of Preventers Support Division, Samuel Tong, head of Preventers Analysis Division, Sebastian Rhine-Thune, Preventers European Station Chief, along with Sally Po, Chang Wufei, Trowa Barton, and Quatre Raberba Winner, made her feel special in included again in the important business of adults. They indulged her curiosity and enthusiasm as well, and not only because she was Une's ward or out of respect for the late Treize Khusrenada, but because she had a genuine understanding of the concepts and motivations she was so keen to discuss. She was rather bright for her age and those at the table recognized her brilliance.
Trowa took a break from the lively discussions that were being had in the dining room and wandered into the kitchen. He found, Une with a red apron on, taking the a pie out of the oven. It was odd for him to see the seasoned former Commander of the OZ Space Forces fiddling around in the kitchen.
"It's nice of you to throw this little party," Trowa said as he approached the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"You never thought me very nice did you?" Une said with a smile as she put down the pie on the counter.
"On the contrary, I always thought that you were softer than you let on," Trowa said.
"Well don't go spreading that around," Une said with a hint of a nervous laugh.
"Don't worry," Trowa said. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Speaking of things that shouldn't be repeated," Une asked as she took off her apron. "When was the least time you were in Barton territory?"
"You mean in the L3 region?" Trowa asked.
Une simply nodded.
"Well the circus gets around quite a bit," Trowa said. "It's been half a year at least, why?"
"Could I ask you to look into something for me?" Une asked.
"Last I checked, John McKinley was your station chief out there. Why not ask him?" Trowa asked.
"Trowa, come on. You know that L3 still Barton territory," Une said as she leaned against the counter. "Even with Dekim gone the Foundation still has a lot of support there. I'm not sure if I trust John McKinley to deliver my mail much less something as sensitive as this."
"You need better people then," Trowa remarked.
"Well you know how it is there. I can't find a single person there that doesn't have the stench of the Barton Foundation about them," Une said. "And I can't send one of my own. They'll get nowhere with the locals or get killed. Most likely both."
"I see your point," Trowa said.
He thought about Une's request for a moment, his mind running through every permutation of what could happen and what he was likely to find.
"Come on, Trowa," Une said. "Tell me you don't miss it."
"Katerina Une…" Trowa said with a hint of a smile. "Patron saint of lost soldiers."
After dinner, the guests moved from the dining room into the drawing room. It had been a long and tedious night already for Relena. She did her best to maintain a pleasant and friendly demeanour and made as much effort as humanly possible to make herself seem interested in the conversations around her. Still, the fact that she was dressed in a sweater and yoga pants, while the rest of the guests were in tails and gowns, betrayed to everyone how little she cared about this whole thing. Still, she made an effort to mingle and have a few conversations.
She ended up having more than a few. Naturally, despite her shabby attire, everyone had something to say to Relena. Some people wanted to talk politics with her. Others wanted to talk about their charities and pet causes. Still others wanted to know about the construction of Peacecraft Palace and what plans she had for it after it was finished. Some even wanted to know about Heero, although they didn't know his name or even what he looked like.
After an hour or so she was all talked out and ended up in her mother's screen room with the children, sitting on the floor watching Christmas specials. She had never met her nephew, Nicholas, before. She relished the opportunity to doll out some long overdue aunty kisses and cuddles to the infant. And apparently Nicholas loved playing with her hair. The other children naturally also wanted some of her attention, which she was more than happy to share. Some of them knew who she was vaguely, in the sense that she was famous but couldn't tell her exactly what she did or why she was notable. Others were just happy that one of the adults wanted to play with them. Their attention spans were far shorter so they didn't to keep Relena's attention once they had already gotten it for a few moments.
A short time later, one of the footmen came into the screening looking for Relena.
"Excuse me, my lady," the footman said as he bent over slightly to address Relena, who was sitting on the ground with Nicholas still in her lap.
"Yes?" Relena said.
"There's someone at the door for you," the footman replied.
Relena squinted in confusion. "Who?"
"A mister... Heero Yuy?" The footman replied, sounding a little unsure of his pronunciation.
Her eyes widened. He was here? In Paris? How? Why? She immediately got up and handed the Nicholas over to the footman. "Please, watch him."
Relena rushed out of the screening room, past the drawing room, and into the main hall. She raced past the servers and kitchen staff until she reached the door of her mother's apartment. The butler was waiting there, guarding against Heero. Relena tapped his mother's butler on the shoulder and whispered it's okay to him. Still rather suspicious of the Japanese boy that showed up uninvited, it took Relena a few more tries before the butler relented and retreated back into the apartment.
As the door closed behind her, a serene silence engulfed them. She was overwhelmed by his mere presence. She was moved that he had traveled all the way from the Sanc Kingdom just to see her in Paris. And she was impressed that he had the courage to knock on her mother's door.
"Hey," she said softly, trying to contain her joy.
"Hi," he replied equally softly.
"What are you doing here?" Relena asked.
"Couldn't wait," Heero answered.
"Couldn't wait for what?"
"I wanted to give you something," Heero said as he pulled out a small box wrapped in gold foil with a red bow on it. "Merry Christmas, Relena."
He took her hand and gave her the box. She took it and looked at it with excitement and curiosity.
"Oh my god, Heero, I didn't get you anything!" Relena said, suddenly sounding rather distressed.
"Don't worry about it," Heero said as he placed a hand on her cheek. "I wanted to get you this."
"What is it?" Relena asked, letting her excitement slip through.
"You'll find out," Heero said.
Relena couldn't wait. She tugged on the bow, releasing the knot. But just as she was about to take off the lid. The door behind her cracked open.
"Relena?" It was her mother.
"Just a minute," Relena whined.
Heero placed his hand over hers and gently pushed the lid of the box back on. "It's okay, go. Open it later."
"What about you?" Relena asked, suddenly sounding rather anxious. "Come inside with me."
"No, I'm not invited," Heero said.
"Oh, who cares about that," Relena protested.
"I do," Heero said emphatically. "I want to do this right. I want to make a good first impression with your mother and it won't be if I crash her party."
"Heero…" Relena's voice trembled as tears came to her eyes. God, she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She could barely contain herself.
"We don't have to rush this," Heero said with a consoling smile.
"You'll forgive me if I don't really want to let you out of my sight," Relena said, as she tried her best not to ugly cry.
"I'll be fine, stop worrying," Heero said.
Relena didn't know what to say. He was saying all the right words and he really sounded sincere. He closed the distance between them and gently kissed her and whispered:
"I'm not going anywhere."
Duo didn't end up making it to Une's party. He couldn't say why. Perhaps he wasn't up for the sidelong glances of disapproval/pity from friends and strangers alike or perhaps he just wasn't up for a night of listening to Quatre, Sally, Wufei, and Trowa talking about how wonderful their lives were now. Either way, after riding the holiday bus around the city aimlessly for a few hours he found himself at The Valknut.
It was completely empty except for the occasional security guard working the holiday hours. He waved to them enthusiastically and wished them a Merry Christmas as he scanned his security card to let himself into the building. He wasn't sure what he was doing there he wasn't sure if he was trying to turn over a new leaf or if he was hastening his way down the path to self-destruction. All he knew was that he needed the distraction.
He found himself in the Preventers Archives, a place he only knew as a dot on the digital maps on every floor next to the elevator until that moment. It was a large and austere room, filled with rows upon rows of documents and intelligence reports. He sat down at one of the computers and booted it up. He logged in with his credentials. He searched for the name Tristan de Vries.
Suddenly, all of the years of training came flooding back to him. He had been a terrible student of intelligence gathering according to Professor G. Despite his best efforts to educate the boy on the more subtle aspects of warfare, Duo just didn't have the temperament to be a spy. He was a brawler in his heart and soon enough, Professor G gave up on trying to teach him the more technical skills that an operative needed for Operation Meteor. Yet apparently he had retained enough of that knowledge to put together a basic timeline of events and a list of likely associates. He worked tirelessly through the night.
She tried her best to suppress it but Stella immediately noticed Relena's blissful glow as she made her way through the drawing room and into her bedroom, while clutching a little gold box in her hand. Curious, she also found her mother and sister-in-law staring at the girl with looks of concern on their faces.
Stella made her way over to the Christmas tree where Beatrice and Mareen were.
"What was that?" Stella asked.
"Nothing good, I'm afraid," Mareen said, sounding rather exhausted.
"I've seen that boy before," Beatrice remarked. "Was he the one that she ran off with on the motorcycle from Winner House?"
"I'm afraid so," Mareen answered.
"Just who is he exactly? And why would Relena be so interested?" Stella asked. "It's not like she has a shortage of options. Look at all the young eligible bachelors in this very room. Yet she ignore them all."
Mareen hesitated for a moment. "Alright… I was hoping that I could keep the young man's identity a secret but this is starting to get out of hand. He's a Gundam Pilot. He is the Pilot of the Zero One. The one that cut down Field Marshal Noventa."
"Him?!" Stella gasped.
"Good Lord! Relena cannot be associated with a terrorist, much less date one!" Beatrice said in disgust.
"I tried to set her up with Dubois' son," Mareen said. "But she threw a fit!"
Stella looked at her sister-in-law with a quizzical stare. "She's the last princess of the Sanc Kingdom and you tried to set her up with the son of a lowly baron?"
"It was an emergency measure," Mareen explained.
"Well, if she's looking for a soldier, there are plenty of soldiers from respectable families that would jump at the chance to court her," Beatrice said. "No need to debase herself with some commoner from the colonies."
"Trust me, I've tried to reason with her," Mareen said as she took a dip of her drink. "She will not listen."
"She will have to be made to," Beatrice said.
The Upper House Hotel, Hong Kong
It took several knocks before Mr. M someone came to the door. Even then, it wasn't Vincent Kurien but a topless blonde in a black thong that let him in. The lights were turned off inside Vincent's suite, and what light there was came from the television had been left on playing It's a Wonderful Life. Mr. M found empty bottles everywhere and kicked them aside as he made his way into the room. The smoke was so thick that he could hear his companions behind him struggle to breathe. He found Vincent topless sitting on the chair across from the bed. He zipped up his pants while a brunette, similarly dressed as the blonde helped him with his belt. In his bed, lay another two girls passed out.
He pushed aside the girl's feet and sat at the edge of the bed across from Vincent and the brunette kneeling in front of him.
"Oh, don't stop on my account," Mr. M said as he took off his sunglasses.
"It's Christmas old man," Vincent said, slurring his words. His eyes were bloodshot. "What do you want?"
"I bring gifts," Mr. M said as he gestured towards his companions.
Vincent turned and looked at the three companions who stood there silently staring back at him. One of them was a strikingly beautiful woman with straight black hair and would not be out of place if she were naked in bed with the others he had hired to keep him company that lonely Christmas day. The second was a Syrian by Vincent's estimates. He was shorter than the girl beside him. He looked older and battle worn. He had a thick beard and shaved head. The third, was a young man, blonde hair, medium built. He looked uncomfortable being in the midst of Vincent's debauchery.
"Babysitters," Vincent slurred with vicious disdain in his voice.
"No," Mr. M interjected. "Assistants. We're not ungrateful for the services you have provided so far Mr. Kurien. Quite the opposite. And as a gesture of our appreciation, we would like to offer you some help."
"I don't even any help," Vincent said as he drunkenly swung around the half empty bottle fo vodka in his right hand.
"With respect, Mr. Kurien," Mr. M said calmly. "If this… Heero Yuy is as formidable as you claim… we have to disagree."
"Oh, and you think these guys will be helpful to me?" Vincent said as he locked eyes with each and every one of them. "Where'd you get these bums?"
"Meet Kerestina Starr, fought along the White Fang and the Barton Foundation army during the Insurrection," Mr. M said as introduced his companions. "This is Hamid al-Mansur, former Maganac Corps. And this is young man is Tristan de Vries, former OZ Special Mobile Suit unit."
Relena waited until all of the guests had either left or retired to their rooms. She even waited for the hired staff to finish their tidying up. She wanted to be completely alone when she opened it. She wanted it to be completely silent. She wanted the moment to be special. She sat on her bed staring at the little gold box in front of her and wondered what it was. Eventually, the house quieted down.
She pulled away the already undone red ribbon and put it aside. She took off the golden lid and looked inside the box. There was some pink tissue paper that she quickly removed. Inside was a little yellow brick with broken wires coming out of the back. It had diagonal black stripes painted across it. There was a big red button in the centre. It took a her moment to realize what it was. But when she did, her heart skipped a beat and tears immediately began to well in her eyes.
She had seen it before. It was mounted to the right side of the main console on the Wing Zero. It was usually covered with a clear plastic case. It was the machine's self-detonation switch.
Relena emptied the box and a little strip of paper fell out. It was a note in Heero's handwriting.
Keep it. I don't need it anymore.