Standstill | Chapter 2
"This is – AMAZING!" Relena shrilled as their small craft launched out of the underground hangar with a thundering roar. They swept across the lake and soared over the treetops, Relena calling out in delight, bouncing on Heero's lap. Soon, the Pine Barrens were just a vast patch of green and brown way down below, and they were gliding amongst the clouds.
"Two," Heero said as he moved his arms around her to work the control column between their legs. Baffled, she tried to decipher his odd request.
"Relena," he rebuked just as she recalled what they had agreed upon before takeoff.
"Yes, sorry," she mumbled and pressed her right foot on the pedal under the console; her left foot was ready to press on the pedal to the far left if he said 'one'.
"Pay attention," he muttered and used the control stick to steady the PSC. "You're sitting in a twenty-something year old craft, cruising at four hundred knots and over two thousand feet off the ground. Caution is advised."
Relena laughed nervously. "Yes, I know," she said, "It's just so beautiful up here..." She turned to look out the canopy window, mesmerized by the view as they flew over the South Fork peninsula.
Countless vehicles still stood in a dense column across the I-495. The craft climbed higher, leaving the road far behind as it passed over a small town at the edge of the Barrens. A colorful checkered blanket spread across the peninsula – ample fields in different shades of green, yellow and brown. They flew past a large body of water splitting the land, turning south. The fields were gone, replaced by vast green forestlands dotted with blue ponds. Heero made a beeline towards the coast, probably to avoid detection. They flew along the shoreline, the Hamptons streaking below in a string of seaside communities and long stretches of beach. The interior farmland was filled with small villages, lovely countryside homes squared away behind boxwood hedges. The closer they got to the edge of the narrow peninsula, to Montauk, the fewer structures littered the green forestland.
"It's all so beautiful from up here..." Relena mumbled thoughtfully, sighing, "So quiet."
"Hn," Heero's voice hummed in her ear as he leaned his chin over her shoulder to look at the console. She shifted sideways to make him some room. The tiny cockpit was not designed for two, and even though she was sitting in his lap, it was still too crowded to move comfortably. Pressed almost face-to-face, she studied his features, trying to resist a persistent smile as she noted his tense and utterly concentrated expression. She wondered if he had ever taken the time to appreciate all this beauty when he had piloted Wing across the heavens, or was he always so mission-oriented?
"Have you ever just... looked at it?" The question slipped out of her mouth before she even made a conscious decision to ask him about it.
Heero's forehead creased with a frown. "At what?" he asked, still focused on the dashboard, eyes front.
"Just... Earth. You know. While you were piloting. Have you ever taken the time to appreciate the view?"
This time, he turned to her, somewhat startled.
She laughed, trying to ease the tension. "Heero, it was over ten years ago. It's okay if you did."
He scoffed, turning back to the console. He pressed a few buttons and adjusted a couple of knobs, before resuming his grip on the control stick between her legs; his lean and muscular arms wrapped around her tightly as he steadied his hold on the controller.
"Just once," he said, omitting the exposition as usual. "I switched Wing into bird-mode, even though it was unnecessary." His eyes stared directly ahead, gazing out the windshield. "I wanted to see it with my own eyes," he confessed in a whisper. "Just once. Without the monitors."
Relena nodded slowly; she understood. "How long ago?"
Heero hesitated before answering quietly. "...the day you were made queen." [1]
Her heart jolted at the memory. She didn't quite know how to respond.
"I had to leave Sanq. It didn't matter where. I didn't even have a flight plan. I just... took off. Hid between the clouds. It was... peaceful... there."
Tears threatened to sting her eyes, so she bit her lower lip to fight them off. She inhaled deeply and turned to face portside to look out the window, her eyes seeking the pristine beaches below. She hated thinking back on those days.
"And... and you haven't done it since?" she asked, searching for a distraction. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the clouds sweeping above the canopy.
"It's been a long time since I've piloted anything," he murmured, ruffling his messy bangs away from his eyes.
"Really?" she marveled, shifting her head aside to look at his face. "Not even for Preventer?"
Heero nodded. "It's part of their DDR policy – unofficial," [2] he explained, wriggling a little to get to the console and flip a few switches. She had a feeling he was only running a useless diagnostic, so he would have something to do while speaking about issues he would rather avoid. They never talked much about his work before he had moved to New York.
"They don't let us do what we're good at," he sighed; "so we won't get too good at it, I guess."
She looked up again, rolling her eyes at the clouds. "Talk about paranoia," she snorted. "That doesn't make any sense."
He shrugged, her head moving up and down with his shoulder. "I'm a good pilot, so they put me on infantry. Your basic foot soldier, until I stepped into the wrong house in the wrong village and lost a foot."
Relena straightened back up and whirled her head around to look at him. This was the first time he had divulge any information about his leg. "Landmine?" she asked tensely.
"Yeah, a hidden charge," he uttered with a sigh and bowed his head to avoid her prying eyes. "Peacekeeping mission in Lebanon. Air support blew it and five agents died. The rest of us barely made it out alive."
She stared at the dangling locks of brown hair concealing his lowered face, unsure of how she should respond, if at all. She had no trouble reading between the lines. If Heero had been allowed to pilot – to do what he did best – then maybe air support could have saved those five lives, and he would still be able-bodied today.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's not fair."
Heero returned his attention to the control stick.
"Yeah, well, at least Preventer got what they wanted – one less combatant to worry about."
"Heero," she scolded softly, but he cut in.
"It's okay," he said, gripping the joystick tightly. "I'm over it."
He wasn't, but she didn't say anything.
"It's a stupid policy," she said it for him, concluding the conversation. Heero shrugged, not caring to repeat what he had already said – that it was an unofficial policy. Relena heaved a troubled sigh and leaned back against him, her head tucked under his chin. She gazed out the window above, her eyes glazing over as she sunk into deep thought. She had much to do once she got back into politics.
Roughly ten minutes later, they completed a U-turn flight around the pointy edge of the peninsula and were coming around towards Montauk Airport. Alarmed, Relena turned to Heero with a questioning frown.
"I thought the whole idea was to keep it stealthy," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow. Heero smirked, but didn't say anything. Others might have tried to reassure her with a careless 'don't worry', or a ballsy 'I've got this', but he just expected her to trust him blindly. Which she did, so why did she keep questioning him?
"Two, then one – a long steady press," Heero instructed, his quiet voice shattering her train of thought. This time, she didn't hesitate or asked any stupid questions; she just pressed her feet on the pedals as he had ordered. Her whole body tensed readily.
"Ready?"
"I think so..."
Looking straight ahead through the canopy, she spotted a long narrow pond close to the runway, less than a mile away from the marina, which meant they were close to her mother's beach house. Thick trees and vegetation surrounded the pond. By their approach-angle, she could tell they were headed straight to the hidden body of water, instead of veering sideways towards the runway.
"Press. Now," Heero commanded and she pushed her feet down hard on the pedals. Heero moved his arms around her, working the controls swiftly as he readied for landing. They were getting close to sea level now, flying low over the ocean. She didn't know how the PSC's stealth systems worked, but she assumed they were flying low to avoid detection, at least by any eyewitnesses.
Heero flew them straight into the treetops, threading the small seed-shaped craft smoothly into the woods. He maneuvered the old PSC through the forest like there were no trees. Relena was in awe. Heero was exceptional, no doubt about it. It had been over a decade since he had last sat in the pilot's seat. He never ceased to amaze her.
She cheered when he landed the craft in the water in a matter of seconds. It was a perfect landing. Now she understood why the PSC's design resembled a jet ski, and why it had been stored next to a lake; it was meant to land in the water.
Heero guided the craft to shore. The bow slid gracefully into the soft earth at the banks of the lake, bringing the craft into a gentle halt. The engines powered down with a dimming whir, and silence fell all around. Only then Relena realized just how noisy it had been inside the cockpit. Her ears were ringing.
She felt Heero's warm hands across her lap as he reached to unfasten the safety harness embracing them both. He reached for the dashboard and flipped a bunch of switches. The canopy opened with an airy hiss. A gush of fresh air burst into the stuffy cockpit, carrying the scent of the forest. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, and rose to her feet while stretching her arms over her head. It felt wonderful. A pleasant summer breeze swept across the blue pond and fluttered through her silky sundress. She raised a hand to push her tousled hair out of her eyes.
When she opened them, she was looking at green woods surrounding a sparkling lake. She took a moment to appreciate the sight, until she felt Heero shift behind her. He was still sitting; there wasn't enough room for both of them to stand – she was taking all of the space between the chair and the controls. Her eyes caught a slight movement below; he was wriggling his leg, which was still bent under the consoles. It must be killing him, she realized sadly. Not only had he endured a three-hour ride cramped behind the wheel of a car, he had then hiked through the woods and also piloted a freaking aircraft run by pedal! Of course his leg was hurting.
"Here," she said softly, turning to climb out of the cockpit. Heero flung a hand up to stop her, grabbing her gently by the wrist.
"Wait," he said, and she spun back, confused. He looked up at her from his seat, and his lips curved up in a tiny gesture of a smile. He pulled her towards him. She settled back on his lap, facing him. He kissed her, his kiss fervent and sloppy – full of needy heat. She kissed back just as passionately, wiggling in his lap as she moved her legs to straddle his hips without breaking the contact. His hands were all over her, canvasing her body with eager strokes, sneaking under her dress. Her own hands fiddled with his jeans, eager fingers working to unbutton and unzip it. He growled into her neck when she peeled the fabric away, exposing firm evidence of the reason behind his earlier discomfort. He pulled her in for another kiss, their foreheads smacking together clumsily. She laughed.
Fumbling within the small confines of the PSC cockpit, they enjoyed hot blunderous sex right there on the pilot's seat. Panting, she tugged his T-shirt over his head and tossed it out the cockpit. Their sweaty flesh clashed with an audible slap. Heero smacked his knee on the dashboard, trying to brace himself to gain more leverage. He hissed, wriggling his bruised leg. She laughed, but then he bucked his hips up and she whacked her head on the open canopy. He smirked, and she laughed even harder, rubbing the sore back of her head.
It was the best sex they had ever had. Fun and carefree, full of life and emotion... all the things they had been missing lately. All it took was putting him back in the pilot's seat. A real no brainer, in retrospect. Heero was still flying inside, soaring towards her with unbridled passion. She moved against him eagerly, panting and sweating, calling out, uninhibited.
Satiated beyond endurance, Relena collapsed against him listlessly, reduced to a heap of sweaty flesh against Heero's nude chest, which heaved with labored breath. She rested her head on his shoulder, her breasts pressed against him. She still wore her bra, even though he had tried to rip it off at one point. She had stopped him, her licentiousness only going so far. She wouldn't feel as good with her breasts exposed.
She took a moment to catch her breath, listening to his quiet panting as he did the same. His heart was pounding so hard she could feel it against her own chest. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and closed her eyes, focusing on the strong beating vibrating through his hot flesh in a hasty rhythm. His pulse was elevated and irregular, skipping a beat every now and then. Usually, his heart arrhythmia was rather harmless, although he did suffer from chest pains from time to time. She never asked what had caused it [3], but she was certain his drinking problem had only made it worse. Heero never denied it; he was aware that the deterioration was his own fault. 'It's not just literal,' he'd tell her, more often than not. 'I have a bad heart in all senses of the phrase'.
'I don't believe that', she'd argue. His heart could never be bad.
She pulled away; just a little, just enough to look at his handsome face, and smiled at him. He looked up, his expression strangely blank. She didn't mind. She enjoyed watching him from this angle, seated on his lap. He would often let her, and whole minutes would go by in pleasant silence as they studied each other. Light and shadow played across his sharp features. She spotted a faint beauty mark on his smooth left cheek, and smiled in affection. When she had first met him, his skin had been utterly unblemished, having lived in space until that point. However, years of living under Earth's sun had taken a small toll on his perfect skin. It only added to his beauty. She adored his imperfections; they were what made him unique, and loving them made him uniquely hers.
She looked into his eyes. An Asian man with blue eyes. She could spend hours gazing into his eyes and find another shade of blue within the iris every time she did. It was a genetic mutation; one in a million, probably. Those strikingly vivid blue eyes were the first thing she had noticed about him. They had captured her heart from the very beginning. Not just their color, but the sheer intensity of the fire that burnt inside. Heero's eyes were an ocean of endless depths, yet looking at them was more like gazing into the sun. After a while, it hurt and you had to look away. But if one persevered and looked at them long enough, they revealed so much. And today, they rewarded her with a smile. A genuine smile, not just a little tug at the corner of his lips, but a full-fledged honest-to-god smile that shone brightly in his eyes. It was so beautiful. She couldn't help but laugh.
"What?" she let out, chuckling sheepishly. He was looking at her funny, that secretive smile on his lips, and for the life of her, she could not recall ever seeing him quite so charming before.
Heero simply continued looking at her, eyes vivid and raw under the bright sunshine flooding the cockpit. It was almost eerie, and it was making her nervous.
"What is it?" she asked again, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear, just so she could break eye contact for a second. When she looked back at him, he was still studying her with that mystified look in his eyes.
"Heero, you're freaking me out," she mumbled, and his smile only grew in response; like he was in on some secret she was completely clueless about.
"Seiki," he then said, quietly. So quiet, she had nearly missed it.
"What?" she let out dumbly, confused.
He smiled again, shaking his head a little. "Seiki," he repeated, slowly this time. His eyes never wavered from hers. "My name," he clarified; "The one I was born under. It's Seiki."
Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. Did he just––?
"That's as far back as I can possibly go," he explained, speaking softly. Her entire world narrowed down to the bright blue light in his eyes, to the tender honesty she suddenly saw there.
He was referring to their conversation back in the car, she realized, when she had asked him how far he was willing to go when disclosing his past to her. He had said 'we'll see', yet now he was giving her his real name, going back as far as square one. She grinned, moved beyond words. This was practically a love confession, wasn't it?
She kissed him, stealing the breath from his mouth, and sucking it hungrily into her lungs. Her arms snaked around him tightly, pulling him close as she deepened the kiss. Such desperate wanton behavior was not in her nature, but she could not help herself. She loved him so much – she was never letting go.
Their disembarkment was delayed on account of another zealous quickie, after which they had to search the vicinity of the PSC for their discarded clothing. By the time they were ready to get moving, the sun was already making its way towards the horizon; it was late in the afternoon. Checking his navigation app, Heero determined that they had about a two-mile walk to her mother's place. Relena was tired and hungry, and she imagined he felt the same. She offered him the bottle of water she had taken for the road (as per his instruction), and watched him drink eagerly, tilting his head back as his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down his slender white neck.
The walk through the woods and into town was fairly short, however it did take them a while; they were exhausted. Heero kept lagging behind a few steps and she found herself slowing down every now and then to match his pace. His T-shirt was soaked dark grey with sweat under his armpits and at the center of his chest. He was panting quietly through his mouth, and his hair clung to his forehead. He seemed pale, even under the golden afternoon sun.
Her mind flashed back to a few hours ago, to the two of them standing by the open trunk of their rented car in the middle of the Barrens. Heero had emptied his bag into the trunk to make room for the battery and jumper cables. His prescription bottles had spilled from the bag along with his change of clothes – all of which were now lying in an SUV's trunk in the woods.
"Heero," she gasped, her head shooting up in his direction. "Your meds."
"It's okay," he let the words out breathlessly, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. "It's only one night," he assured her, adding a quiet "we'll go back for the car tomorrow."
She studied his clammy face carefully. Heero either ignored her or didn't register her concern. He trudged onwards, looking ahead at nothing in particular. She reached for his hand, slipping her palm around his, and squeezed tightly. It took him a moment, but he squeezed back.
They stepped out of the woods hand-in-hand, and walked onto a main road.
"Just another half a mile or so," Heero said and let go of her hand to point down the street. "That way."
They arrived at her mother's beach house by the time evening was starting to fall. The impressive villa sat right on the beach, overlooking a stunning ocean sunset. A wide porch surrounded the house, facing the beach. A narrow staircase led from the house down to the sandy shore. Her mother opened the door as soon as they stepped onto the creaking wooden steps leading up to the front porch. Clearly, the woman had been worried, waiting for their arrival. Relena thought perhaps she should have called...
"Relena!" Her mother exclaimed as she stepped outside to greet them. Relena would have rushed over to her, but she remained by Heero's side as they climbed slowly up the five steps leading to the house. Heero was utterly fatigued. His bleary eyes kept fluttering shut and he could barely carry himself upright as he shuffled up the steps. His stride carried a slight limp; his residual leg must have bottomed out in the socket, which caused him great pain. All she wanted was for him to sit somewhere and rest, instead of exchanging pleasantries with her mother.
"Mother," she greeted with a strained smile as they approached. "I'm so sorry we're late."
Her mother, immaculate in her pristine outfit and meticulous updo, paused to study them as they stood before her. She notably ran her eyes up and down each of them, starting with Relena, and ending with Heero. Standing close to her boyfriend, Relena was painfully aware of his sticky appearance; he even smelled of sweat. She imagined she didn't look much better, her hair and clothes disheveled in a very unladylike manner. She pulled the straps of her dress up, even though they hadn't slipped. Some first impression they were making...
"Dear Lord," her mother gasped in shock. "Relena, what happened?"
"Uh, we... we ran into some car trouble," she hurried to explain. "Our car broke down a few miles down the road. We had to walk."
"Oh my," her mother said and then turned to Heero, giving him another quick once-over. If it bothered him, he didn't let it show. He stretched his hand forward for a handshake.
"Heero Yuy," he introduced himself in a steady voice, holding his hand outstretched towards her mother. Relena immediately recognized the stiff tone of voice in which he spoke when he was trying to "act normal" (whatever that meant). Ha! She knew it! He was nervous about meeting her mother!
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Darlian," he concluded, nodding his head in greeting. Her mother looked at his hand for a second longer than necessary, no doubt trying to decide whether or not she approved of his dark and brooding good looks, before shaking it.
"Please, call me Marlene," she said, and Relena noted how Heero's eyes narrowed slightly when he noted her mother's Dutch accent, which she lacked entirely. More than just a generational gap, it was a painful reminder that Marlene Darlian was not her real mother.
"And the pleasure is all mine," her mother added with a well-practiced smile. Relena was grateful she hadn't winced at the touch of Heero's sweaty hand. If it was anything less than perfect, her mother usually had something to say about it.
This weekend is going to be a complete disaster, she thought to herself, struggling to keep smiling.
"I'm sorry we kept you waiting, mother," she apologized again. Her mother sent her a quick glance, and then smiled graciously.
"The important thing is that you're both here now," she said, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Well then," she offered pleasantly, turning back to Heero with a smile. "Come on in," she gestured at the door, "I was just about to get started on dinner. Why don't you" – she looked him over again – "freshen up, a little, before supper?"
"That'd be great!" Relena hurried to agree, laughing like an idiot. She caught Heero's curious side-glance. He had never seen just how stupid she could get around her mother. He was in for quite a show.
Her mother had prepared a room on the second floor; a gorgeous master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom, an ocean view and a private balcony. Heero was drawn to the first seat he found – a luxurious comfy-chair by the balcony door – and plopped onto it heavily, stretching his long legs forward and letting his hands dangle from the armrests. He exhaled and reached a hand up to support his head against it. He closed his eyes, slumping deeper into the chair. Relena winced in sympathy.
"Some day, huh?" she commented with a timid smile as she approached him. He uttered something unintelligible under his breath – a useless 'hn' or an 'hmm', or another one of his noncommittal grunts – his face hidden behind the palm of his hand. She knelt by the armchair and reached to untie his shoes.
"What are you doing?" he rasped, brows lowering.
"Making you comfortable," she replied simply, slipping his left shoe off the prosthetic leg.
"I'm too tired for that now," he muttered, pulling his leg away before she could take off his sock.
She scoffed, shaking her head. "Which is why I want you to take a shower and get some rest before dinner," she clarified while untying the other shoe. She wrinkled her nose at the stench; his real foot smelled.
"Take your clothes off," she stood up, gesturing down at him with her head, "I'll throw them into the wash."
Still leaning his head against his hand, Heero's eyes darted up as much as they could under his frown. Relena scowled back at him. She didn't think she was being too fussy. It was just a matter of good manners to wash the sex off before sitting down to a family dinner. It wasn't as if she was trying to cram him in a top hat and tails here...
She tried to pacify him with a smile. He just snorted quietly and looked away; Relena could have sworn he had rolled his eyes at her. She held back a sigh. He understandably smelled. Was it so bad that she wanted him to soap up before dinner? She knew where his hands had been... Why was he making her into the bad guy here?
Sighing, she slouched her shoulders in defeat. "You know what, just do whatever," she muttered, turning to leave. "I'll be downstairs, helping mother with dinner."
When she came back to the room a few minutes later, carrying a jug of cold water, the armchair was empty. The shower was running behind a closed door. Relena smiled. He had left his dirty clothes piled on the floor.
A quick fifteen minutes wash cycle and then straight into the dryer. She hit the "on" button before retiring upstairs to take a shower as well.
She made a stop by her mother's bedroom, entering the spacious walk-in closet in search of some clean clothes. She smiled when she recalled how her father had complained about installing such a costly fixture in their beach house, saying that they hardly ever went there on vacation, so why did she need such a large space for a wardrobe? Her mother's answer was to buy a second collection of clothing – for the both of them – and fill every shelf in her Hampton's walk-in closet that she visited maybe once a year. Her father had just laughed at the absurdity of it all. He had always accepted his wife's odd quirks with good humor. Relena had admired that about him. He had taken everything in stride. In a way, Heero's cool mannerism reminded her of him, although she highly doubted Heero would have allowed such an impetuous waste of resources.
As she searched amongst her mother's many dresses, she noted a few of her father's clothes still hung on the hangers. She paused to hold the sleeve of one of his suits, and smiled wistfully. She raised the empty sleeve to her face and bestowed a gentle kiss on the edge of the cuff, as though to kiss his hand. She missed him dearly. What might it have been like if he were here today?
Sighing, she let go of her father's suit and turned back to choose a dress for the evening. She went for a simple light lavender dress with a clean cut that reached just below the knee. It was the most age-appropriate dress she could find in her mother's prestigious wardrobe.
Hazy golden light washed over the large master bedroom as the sun set beyond the balcony. She found Heero sleeping under the covers on the far end of the bed, facing away from the door. His prosthetic leg rested against the nightstand. She paused at the doorway and smiled, listening to him snore.
Chuckling to herself, she padded quietly towards the bathroom and closed the door behind her. It was a lavish room, with polished white tiles, baby-blue floors, and touches of gold. A beautiful fused-glass window let in natural light; stained glass in different shades of blue and green fused together to mirror the ocean waves.
She took her time in the shower, relishing in the hot water. It was early evening, and the sun was setting outside the stained-glass window. Bathed in warm sunset hues, Relena leaned her head back into the shower stream, her eyes fluttering shut as the water washed down her face.
A bright ray of golden twilight shattered as it hit the colorful glass, its bluish brilliance visible behind her closed eyelids. An idle smile curved her lips. That dazzling shine in Heero's eyes as he had veered their SUV off the road... Her bosom heaved under the warm current, swelling with a lungful of air she then released slowly, her skin warm and tingly as the memory washed over her. She wanted to see more of that dashing side of him. They should do this more – go out, have fun. They were only in their mid-twenties, and they had to make up for a lot of lost time.
Relena stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in her mother's pale-lavender dress. She walked over to the bed and climbed in, joining Heero under the covers. He was naked, and she didn't miss out on a chance to snuggle close to him. She wrapped an arm around his middle and rested the other by his head, caressing the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Heero, for his part, didn't even stir.
She must have dozed off herself, because the next thing she knew her mother was knocking softly on the door.
"Relena?" she asked carefully from the hallway; "Dinner's ready."
Blinking groggily, Relena croaked out a sleep-heavy "be right there, mother..."
She untangled herself from Heero, who was still lying curled next to her, sleeping soundly.
"Five minutes!" She promised, knowing her mother was still there.
"All right..." the woman mumbled and walked away. "Heero," Relena whispered softly, nudging his shoulder.
"Mhmm...?" he was only doubtfully awake.
"Dinner's ready," she told him, "we're expected downstairs."
"Mhmm..." he acknowledged, but promptly drifted back to sleep. She snorted. And this was once a soldier who would spring out of bed at the slightest sign of a potential threat. If ever there was any need for proof of sustainable peace, this was it – right here.
"I'll go get your clothes," she said with a tender smile, tapping lightly on his shoulder. "Get ready, okay?"
"Mhmm... yeah..." The sheets rustled as he shifted to lie on his back and threw a hand over his eyes. "...'ive 'inutes..."
"Sure," Relena muttered skeptically and threw the covers aside. Sighing, she rolled out of bed and left the room to go fetch his clothes from the dryer. He wouldn't have gotten up with her there anyway. He didn't have his prosthesis on. Getting him to take it off before bed had taken months. She had never seen him with a bare stump. He would usually wait under the covers after removing his artificial limb, and remained covered in the morning until she left the room. She never said anything, because it was hard enough to get him to remove the prosthesis for the night in the first place. She simply counted her blessings and let the issue drop, for now. One day, perhaps, he would feel comfortable enough to let her see that broken side of him, but for now, she would simply have to keep leaving the room to give him his privacy.
Her mother had already taken Heero's jeans and T-shirt out of the dryer and folded them neatly. She had even folded his underwear, placing them on top of the pile along with his socks. Relena smiled awkwardly as she accepted the pile of warm clothes, along with her mother's critical appraisal. So she had brought home a guy who preferred faded jeans and a plain tee over a nice pair of trousers – so what?!
"Thank you, mother," she murmured uneasily; "We left our bags back in the car..." she added a sheepish, and an entirely redundant, explanation.
"I didn't say anything," her mother remarked calmly, running her eyes up and down the dress she had borrowed without asking. "It suits you." She smiled.
Relena nodded, trying to smile back. Maybe it was all in her head. So far, her mother had done nothing but potter about, making dinner and folding laundry. She was letting her insecurities get to her, wasn't she? First with Heero, and now with her mother. She felt like a child again, and she hated it.
"I'll be right back to set the table," she promised her mother, and hurried upstairs.
Heero was still asleep when she returned; lying on his back, hands sprawled at his side, head lolling onto the pillow and his mouth agape in heavy slumber. It was utterly adorable.
She placed the clothes on the nightstand and crawled on the bed next to him, creeping closer quietly. The mattress dipped under her weight, giving away her approach, but he didn't stir. She liked to think her presence was something familiar, and therefore registered as safe.
"Heero..." she whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek gently; "Time to wake up..."
"Mhmm..." he let out groggily, turning his head to face the other way. "...'ive 'minues..."
"It's already been five minutes," she chuckled, amused. "Come on. I don't want to keep my mother waiting."
This time, he didn't even grunt in response. His slow and heavy breathing meant that he was already back asleep.
Relena smiled affectionately, studying his sleeping face. She caressed his hair gently, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.
"Heero..." she whispered, her voice soft but urgent. "Come on, wake up."
Not a thing.
Taking things up a notch, she leaned her head down to nibble playfully at his ear, teasing his earlobe with her tongue. It usually drove him crazy with desire, but this time he just waved his hand clumsily as if to drive away an annoying fly. Relena refused to give up. Smirking playfully, she leaned down again to whisper in his ear:
"Seiki..." she droned the name in a low, seductive, voice. "Wake up now..."
His eyelids flew wide open, his face rigid.
"Don't do that," he snapped. Relena gaped at him, at a loss for words. She hadn't expected such an extreme reaction.
"Sorry, I didn't mean––"
"Don't mean. Don't anything. Just... don't." He sighed and threw the covers aside violently, flinging his right leg to the floor. He sat up, turning his naked back to her.
"I didn't tell you my name so you could use it however you see fit," he grumbled as he snatched his prosthesis. He fastened it on hastily. Relena stared at his shoulder blades as they jerked with each motion, biting back her own frustration. She should have known better. Most likely, the name didn't bring with it too many happy memories.
"Then why did you?" she snapped at him, going against every shred of common sense. She shouldn't provoke him further when he was like this – especially by asking something so obvious; something he would have expressed directly if he had wanted.
"You know exactly why, Princess," he retorted, sending her a sharp glance over his shoulder. Hinting at her heritage was crossing a line, and therefore his way of telling her to back the fuck off. Well, she got the message – loud and clear.
"You're such a jerk!" She snapped and threw a pillow at him. It hit him on the back of the head and fell back against the bed. Heero didn't so much as flinch.
"Thanks a lot!" She whirled around to make a dramatic exit befitting a queen. If he wanted to mess with Relena Peacecraft, then he'd get it. Only Heero could turn something as beautiful as a hinted love confession into a nasty fight. She hated him!
Relena stormed out of the room. Heero remained seated on the edge of the bed, back to the door as it slammed shut behind her.
She went to the kitchen and helped herself to a large glass of red wine. Her mother was in the dining room beyond the foyer, setting the table, even though Relena had told her she would do it, but of course her mother had to play the victim. How else would she have something to complain about? Still, Relena wanted to do something, so she took it upon herself to season the salad waiting on the countertop. She took a few long gulps of wine, set the glass next to the fancy salad bowl, and reached for a bottle of vinaigrette dressing.
"Waar is je vriend dan?" (Where is your boyfriend?) her mother asked, speaking Dutch, as she stepped into the kitchen.
"Hij komt eraan," (He will be right down) Relena mumbled. She used two wooden spoons to toss the lettuce. She wasn't absolutely sure he would be joining them tonight (he could be so spiteful and annoying when he was angry with her), but chances were high that he would not fail her. In the very least, Heero always performed his duties to the letter.
"Relena, schatje, is alles goed?" (Relena, honey, is everything all right?) her mother asked carefully.
"Ja, geweldig." (Yeah, great) Relena sighed, keeping her eyes on the salad. "Het is een lange dag geweest, meer niet..." (It's been a long day, that's all)
Her mother nodded without speaking; it was unclear whether she had accepted her explanation or not.
"Well, hopefully you'll be able to enjoy yourself more tomorrow," she made an empty promise and walked to the oven. She put her mittens on and opened it.
"Wat is er met zijn benen?" (What's wrong with his legs?)
She asked the question so carelessly, she might as well have been inquiring about the weather.
Relena turned to her, gawking in disbelief. "Moeder, ongelooflijk dat je zoiets zegt!" (Mother, I can't believe you just said that!)
"What?" her mother let out defensively as she pulled out a large ceramic dish. "It was a perfectly innocent observation," she asserted while placing it on the kitchen island. She opened the lid, revealing a steaming pot roast. Looking up, she shot Relena a curious glance. "I noticed the limp," she said, a little chastising, as she examined her cooking. "I'm merely expressing my concern, Relena."
"I'm sure," Relena muttered and gulped some more wine. "If you want to ask something, mother, just do it," she sighed.
"It's just that..." Her mother was at least trying to be diplomatic – Relena had to give her that – but the way she was squirming took something away from the attempt. "Well," she hesitated, covering the steaming dish. "As I'm sure you know, Relena, many young men nowadays have a... past."
Relena had to stop herself from scoffing into her wine. Instead, she sipped it calmly, stalling before she lowered the glass. "You're asking if Heero's a veteran."
"I suppose I am," her mother confirmed, nodding. She pressed her lips tightly, waiting for an answer.
Relena smirked. "Don't be absurd, mother," she said, "He would have been too young to join."
"So were you," her mother avowed coldly, "but that didn't stop you, now did it?"
"Did you?" Relena retorted archly.
"There's no need to be so defensive," her mother rebuked, quirking a delicate eyebrow. "Aren't I your mother? It's my job to care for you."
"That you are," Relena agreed, at least to the first part.
Her mother picked up the hot ceramic dish. "Wees echter voorzichtig, Relena, meer niet." (Just be careful, Relena, that's all) She turned to leave the kitchen. "You worked very hard to put all of that behind you. I would hate to see you get hurt."
Relena remained by the kitchen counter after her mother had left. She raised the wine for another sip, glaring at the empty doorway. She refused to be lured into that trap. Not tonight; not when she had to deal with Heero's mood swings on top of everything. She had to do this one battle at a time, especially since she was fighting a lost cause.
She drank some more.
"Wel wat sparen voor later," (Save some for later) her mother rebuked as she re-entered the kitchen to take the salad as well. "It'd be rude to serve an empty bottle of wine at dinner," she said before walking back to the dining room.
Relena rolled her eyes. She finished her glass of wine and then snatched the bottle off the countertop. Just as she made her way across the foyer, Heero came down the stairs, wearing his clean clothes. He paused, standing on the staircase with a hand resting on the banister, taking her in. She didn't miss the way his eyes had glanced at the bottle first, before shifting up to look at her.
They stared at one another, an intense mental standoff. Heero's hair was disheveled from sleep, his face still haggard with fatigue. He seemed particularly edgy, which meant he was sorry. There was always this unbearable tension in the air after they fought, usually over nothing of great importance. This time, however, she had overstepped their painstakingly established boundaries.
They were both very gifted at blowing matters completely out of proportion. And they never said they were sorry. They just moved on, scarcely talking things over. She knew it wasn't right, but it was either that or nothing, so she took what she could.
She was the first to break eye contact and keep walking. It was her small way of telling him she was still mad. She entered the dining room, where her mother waited, and placed the wine on the table. Heero stalled for a second longer. He joined them at the table, nodding a small greeting towards her mother.
"Did you get enough rest?" her mother asked Heero as he settled into a seat opposite Relena.
"Yes, thank you," he answered quietly, his voice still hoarse from sleep. Her mother extended her hand to ask for his plate, smiling thinly. Relena felt terribly out of place witnessing Heero in such an ordinary situation; it was the strangest thing she had ever seen.
"That's good to hear," her mother said just for the sake of saying something. Relena assumed Heero hated it just as much as she did. She hoped she never acted that way when she was with him, then she recalled her Hansel and Gretel comment back in the Barrens and flung a mental foot into her mouth. She should be more careful about what she said around him.
Heero handed her mother his plate and she filled it with some pot-roast, green peas and potatoes. She then reached to pour him some red wine, and he stopped her, raising his hand.
"None for me, thank you," he said firmly, looking up with such a stern expression, her mother's face paled a little in surprise.
"I don't drink," he clarified.
"Oh," her mother let out, bewildered. Worried that her mother might come to the right conclusion, Relena hurried to jump in.
"Heero has a bad heart," she blurted out dumbly, and Heero's eyes snapped in her direction with a scornful glare. So much for being careful...
"Oh," her mother let out again, her thin eyebrows lifting in surprise. She set the bottle back down and turned to accept Relena's plate. "Nothing too serious, I hope," she mumbled as she served Relena her meal.
"It's under control," Heero said, sending Relena an accusatory side-glance. She looked away, reduced under his punitive glare.
"I'll have some, mother," she peeped, raising her empty glass of wine. Her mother paused to scold her with a silent reprimand, for she had already drunk a whole glass of wine in the kitchen. Still, to avoid making a scene, she poured her some. Relena sipped it quietly, raising the glass high enough to conceal her face. She couldn't bear the way he was looking at her.
Her mother served herself some food and settled in a chair at the head of the table. Heero and Relena sat next to her on opposite sides. They ate in silence, cutlery clinking within the decorated walls.
"So, Heero," her mother finally addressed him, and Relena looked up from her plate, mortified. This was it. This was when her mother would interrogate Heero. And while Relena knew Heero believed he was capable of withstanding a brutal interrogation, he had yet to endure one conducted by her mother.
"Why won't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" her mother offered with a gracious smile. "Help me get to know you better."
"Mother, this isn't a job interview," Relena interjected.
"Nonsense," she was immediately dismissed; "I'm just making conversation, schatje."
"It's all right," Heero finally spoke, turning to her mother.
His rock-hard expression could be surprisingly earnest, Relena mused. He was good at making himself seem harmless, despite – and even perhaps thanks to – his harsh demeanor. A gun with a silencer. That was what he really was.
"What would you like to know?" he inquired simply and Relena recalled what he had said in the car, about how he let people decide what they wanted to know about him, going back only as far as they were willing to go. Her earlier anger put aside, she could not resist the secret little smile forming on her lips as her mind flashed back to Heero voluntarily giving her his birth name. She didn't even have to ask, and he had gone back as far as he possibly could. What he really meant to say was that he loved her. She was a fool for getting angry with him. She had to make this right, and she couldn't wait for dinner to be over so she could pacify him.
"Well, for one," her mother opened with her first question, "I'm curious to know how long you have known my daughter?"
That was a trick question. Heero could sell her out right now if he was still mad. But he didn't.
"We've been going out for six months," he expertly avoided giving the real answer. She was impressed, but didn't relax quite yet. She sipped some more wine.
"Oh, really?" her mother remarked with a stiff smile. "How did you two meet?"
"We met by accident," Heero replied offhandedly – a bit too carelessly for Relena's taste. "It was––"
"It was this thing for work," she hurried to cut in, just in case he was foolish enough to tell the story about how she had found him unconscious on the beach all those years ago. "On Valentine's day," she told her mother with a big fake smile on her face, ignoring the feeling of Heero's irritation. She had offended him, again, showing distrust of his expert skills in subterfuge. This was bad. What was wrong with her? And why was she still talking?
"We ran into each other completely by accident," she tried to keep calm, and took another sip of wine. Heero seemed utterly crossed with her now, though her mother seemed intrigued.
"Actually," Heero interrupted, a spiteful gleam in his eyes. "Relena bought me at an auction," he said with a cynical smirk, "got herself quite the bargain."
Oh, he was loving this, she could tell. Spending a couple of thousand dollars on a guy who considered his life as "cheap" was just the kind of irony he'd find amusing. Quite the bargain, indeed.
"Really?" her mother let out, somewhat appalled. Relena glared at him before faking another smile for her mother. 'Diplomacy 101' began at the dinner table with her mother, or so her father used to joke. It had taken her a few short years to realize he hadn't been kidding.
"It was for charity," she clarified, knowing Heero would get extra credit if she pointed that out, "You know those bachelor auction events... from work."
"Oh, that's nice," her mother mumbled, albeit still far from reassured. "Do you do a lot of charity, Heero?"
"Not anymore," he shrugged and reached for his glass of water, "But I did do some goodwill work," he took a small sip and fixed his sharp blue eyes on Relena; "Back in the day."
That's one way of putting it, Relena thought and looked the other way. She sipped some more wine, so her smile wouldn't betray her. If one stopped to think about it, Heero had benefited the whole of humanity and he hadn't gotten a dime out of it, so she supposed one could put it that way, yes.
"That's quite commendable," her mother praised him (yes!). The compliment was immediately followed by subtle criticism (of course!): "Why did you stop?"
"Mother, I think that's enough questions for now," Relena felt the need to intervene again.
"Relena, doe niet zo onbeleefd," (don't be rude) her mother reprimanded.
Relena opened her mouth to retort, but, thankfully, Heero spoke up again before she could open a front against her mother.
"I do not have a reason to hide anything from you, Mrs. Darlian," he said calmly.
Boy did he ever! Relena snorted and poured herself some more wine. She could tell Heero was glowering at her, but she didn't care. Just because he had to abstain from drinking, didn't mean she had to do the same! Not tonight, anyway. Not after he had gone off on one at her earlier. Not while her mother was being so––!
So she drank more wine.
"To answer your question," Heero continued, ignoring Relena's drinking; "My work was no longer needed."
Looking from behind her glass, Relena saw her mother nod in approval.
"And what do you do now, for work, if I may ask?"
"I'm with Preventer. Cyber Intelligence. NYC branch," Heero recited a well-practiced reply and Relena chuckled quietly into her wine glass. Good thing he didn't give his full name, rank and badge number – the only details a P.O.W was allowed to disclose. Her mother probably wouldn't have gotten the reference anyway...
Unfortunately, his laconic reply still gave her mother enough to go on.
"Cyber Intelligence... sounds impressive," she commended; "MIT, I presume?"
Relena nearly choked on her wine. Seriously?!
Heero shook his head. "I've had some unofficial training, but I'm mostly self-taught."
Relena groaned internally. Her mother expected nothing short of an Ivy League man. To have Heero openly confess his lack of official education... it didn't look good.
"Hmm, yes," her mother tried to offer a polite response, "I hear that's not unusual in this line of work. Still, I would imagine it's better to have the proper credentials..."
"Moeder!" (Mother!) Relena exploded, offended on his behalf. Heero, however, didn't even bat an eyelash as he gave his reply.
"My education was very thorough, Mrs. Darlian, I assure you."
Relena leaned back, impressed by his ability to present the ugly truth in such a harmless manner. Taking another sip of wine, she wondered how many times he had done the same with her. He seemed so calm, one could easily forget he was referring to years of grueling indoctrination under a mad man like Dr. J.
It hurt to even think about it. She had to find a way to steer the conversation away from Heero.
"Your job certainly implies that it was thorough," her mother agreed. "Preventer is very picky about their staff, or so I hear. Were you involved in anything I might have heard of?"
"Most likely," he confirmed, but refrained from giving away any details.
"Mother, this roast is absolutely divine!" Relena chose this opportunity to compliment the chef; "What did you use again? Was it saffron?"
Both her mother and Heero turned to stare at her.
"Uh, yes," her mother sputtered. "Do you like it?"
"Oh, yes, of course!" Relena laughed awkwardly. "It turned out so well!"
Her mother frowned, and Heero scoffed quietly. Her job here was done.
They ate in silence after that; dense and heavy. Heero's eyes kept drifting towards the bottle before snapping back to his plate. He was trying, she could see that, but she was making it so hard for him. It had only been two-hundred days since he had given up the bottle. She was being unfair to him by drinking so much wine. No matter how upset she was with him, there was no excusing her behavior.
She put her glass down on the table, shoving it away to make a point. Heero noticed, which was good. He seemed more at ease now that she had stopped drinking in front of him; he resumed eating without lifting his eyes up to her wine every two seconds.
"Your accent," her mother said, suddenly picking up the conversation again, glancing up at Heero as she cut a piece of meat on her plate. "I can't quite place it," she professed with an apologetic smile. "Are you originally from New York, Heero?"
Out of all the topics to choose from, her mother had to start with Heero's origins – commenting about his accent, or lack thereof, no less! And that was coming from a woman who spoke English with a heavy Dutch accent. Hearing it always made Relena painfully aware of the differences between them. Her own Dutch was flawless (it was her native tongue, more or less), but the accent didn't carry over to her English. She had studied with a Canadian tutor in her early childhood, and had adopted a fairly neutral North American accent. The same went for her French, German, Spanish and Italian. Communication was never a problem, until she had met Heero and basically hit a wall. Verbal exchange was never his thing; with Heero, one had to read between the lines.
Although his disclosure was problematic, his articulation certainly was not. Like most Colonists, he spoke the English of the melting-pot of space that had become known as the Colonist Common Language (CCL) [4]; but even then, Heero lacked the borrowed pronunciations from the numerous nations who had established the Colonies; he spoke in such an "accent-less" manner, that he did not appear to be from anywhere in particular. Relena wondered if it had anything to do with his training, perhaps to make sure he would blend in wherever he went.
But why did it even matter? Just because someone spoke with an accent, didn't mean they also thought with one. Accents didn't make people stupid, or smart for that matter. They were simply an indication of origin, which her mother probably associated with class. Oh. Now she understood where it was all headed.
"No, I'm not," Heero answered her mother's question about New York. "I moved there about three years ago."
"I see," her mother acknowledged, "So where are you from originally, Heero?"
He didn't hesitate to reply, his blunt honesty catching Relena by surprise. "Space," he said; "The L1 Cluster."
"Interesting," her mother said thoughtfully and took a sip of her own wine. "L1 has a large Russian population, does it not?"
Relena frowned. How did her mother come up with this useless small talk?
"I know someone from L1," her mother continued, "a Russian man. There's no mistaking his accent. I think many people on L1 still speak the language."
"I suppose," Heero had no choice but to agree with that useless bit of information; "Although, my mother was of Japanese descent."
Relena looked up, stunned. Heero had never once told her about his family. He had said most people didn't let him get that far, and here her mother had plunged right in. Could it really be that simple – all she had to do was ask?
"Must be hard living so far away from home," her mother remarked and Relena blanched at her ignorance; she wasn't about to––
"Do you get to see your family often?"
And she did. Relena's heart sank painfully.
"I was orphaned at a young age," Heero said outright, and her mother's foot almost flew into her mouth.
"Oh, dear," she murmured, flustered. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"
Relena's head snapped up in her mother's direction. "Mother, this is––"
"Terrorist attack," Heero cut in, speaking calmly. Relena gaped at him, eyes wide, but he ignored her and kept facing her mother. "We were at the Bulge opening ceremony."
Why was he being so painfully honest? Was it just to spite her, or was he truly having a proper conversation with her mother? Relena was confused. She had met him over ten years ago, and yet she was learning more about him in this awful dinner than she had managed to learn in all of their time together.
"Bulge?" her mother strained to remember; "You mean the OZ space fortress?"
He nodded. "Yes. We named it 'Bulge' as a derogatory nickname. Its construction had caused considerable financial and political strain on the people of the Colonies."
"Yes," her mother agreed, "I recall. Back in the Eighties. There was an attack... during the fortress' inaugural ceremony, in '86." [5]
He nodded. "Yes. Over a hundred fatalities. My parents were among them."
"Oh, dear," her mother placed a hand over her heart; "That must have been hard. I'm sorry." She turned to Relena, her eyes shining sadly. "I'm sure Relena knows what that feels like, don't you, dear?"
Heero turned to address her, not saying a word.
Relena bowed her head, avoiding his prying eyes. She had always assumed that they shared this intimate pain, yet she had never dared asking him about it.
"Y-yes..." she mumbled quietly, shifting uneasily in her seat. Heero watched her with an unreadable expression on his face, saying nothing.
Her mother turned to him with a tight smile. "Relena and her father were very close. I told George he shouldn't go to space when everyone was at war like that..." She sighed mournfully. "It's such a dreadful place..."
"Mother, stop. Please," Relena implored her. This was getting out of hand.
"No, I understand," Heero said with this pained and honest look in his eyes; it hurt to watch. "Space has taken away everything from me. It's not someplace I'd like to go back to anytime soon."
"Heero..." Relena whispered, moved by his brutal honesty. Heero still felt betrayed by his homeland. That devastated her more than anything else. He had sacrificed everything for the people of the Colonies, yet he felt that he could never go back there.
Such openness must cause him great distress, but there he was – answering her mother's every enquiry. He was never like that with her... or was he? Come to think of it, Heero always answered her questions openly. He had done so in the PSC's cockpit, and on numerous occasions. It was just that, more often than not, she didn't have the nerve to ask.
Relena could talk on and on about herself; about her day at work or school, reminiscing about this and that, babbling about a book she had read or an exciting new TV drama, bemoaning world politics and whatnot. Heero would listen attentively, but he would hardly ever comment or share his own perspective on such matters.
She would often pause after a minutes-long monologue and laugh sheepishly, telling him that it was his turn to say something because she felt bad for dominating the conversation. Heero made her feel like such a blabbermouth, it was embarrassing sometimes. However, he would just offer that sweet subtle-hint-of-a-smile of his, and tell her that he didn't mind. She would love to listen to him too; she enjoyed the sound of his hushed voice. Never hesitant, always straight and to the point, but so very quiet... like he feared someone might be listening. She suspected the CLO had monitored his every move when growing up, and therefore he always had to watch what he was saying. Maybe the habit stuck.
Either way, she wished he would speak up more often, but she never dared to push the issue. She was always afraid of pushing him away – which was what her mother was doing at that very moment.
"And who raised you? Was there family?"
Relena slammed her fist on the table. "Moeder, dat is genoeg!" (Mother, that's enough!)
"Relena," her mother rebuked, outraged. "Zo behandel je je niet Moeder." (It is no way to treat your mother)
"And this is no way to treat the man I love!" She purposely switched back to English, jumping to her feet to glare at her mother. Yes, she had just confessed her love to him, but she couldn't stop to dwell on it now. "Heero's only being kind, replying to your questions out of respect for me, but that doesn't mean you should keep grilling him about the most painful moments of his life. If this is some ploy to chase him away, then you should save your breath. You're not scaring either of us. I know all that I need to know about him, and I will never turn away from any of it. So just stop it, mother. Please. You're making a fool out of yourself."
An awkward silence fell over the dining room. Her mother gawked at her, utterly speechless. Heero also looked at her strangely. She couldn't decipher the look in his eyes. The second the words had left her mouth, his eyes had softened, narrowing thoughtfully.
He lowered his head to his plate, eyes shifting slowly to the side. Then, he looked up, his lips parting as if to say something, but he stopped himself – mouth snapping shut, eyes darting down. He looked away, his expression unusually meek. He seemed lost, completely thrown off by her boldly honest statement.
It was never her intention to confess so recklessly. This could very well be the first time anyone has ever professed their love to him, and it had been said almost in passing; an incidental love confession as a byproduct of talking back to her mother. Heero deserved so much better than this, and he didn't even know it.
Feeling terrible, Relena gingerly sat back down, pulling her chair closer to the table. She resumed eating, eyes on her plate. She could still feel Heero's contemplative gaze on her. She flashed him a quick glance, just to acknowledge him in some way, and then lowered her eyes again.
Her mother returned to her meal as well, keeping quiet. Relena knew the routine well. Her mother would let her simmer down for a bit, before going back to acting business-as-usual.
Heero shifted his eyes from her to her mother, and then back again. Concluding that the storm had passed, he reached for his fork and continued eating. He had barely touched his meal, so he just concentrated on that, keeping his head low.
Welcome to the Darlians, Relena thought sarcastically. If her father were still alive, he would have surely saved the evening somehow. He was good at keeping her mother in check. Relena heaved a quiet sigh. She missed him so much.
"So, what happened to your car?" It had taken her mother a total of three minutes to regain her composure and carry on the conversation as though nothing so terribly awkward had just happened. Used to it, Relena played along:
"Our battery suddenly died on us," she put her best poker face on as she turned to her mother. "And no one from the garage could come because of Labor Day, so we walked."
Heero looked up from his plate and she sent him a little smile. He wasn't the only one who could twist the truth into an acceptable lie. She was an expert at presenting her mother with a sugar-coated version of her life. He nodded unobtrusively to signal his approval and looked back down at his meal. Heero was nothing if not a quick learner.
It was better to keep your head down at the Darlian family table.
[1] Gundam Wing, episode 39.
[2] DDR: Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration: a peacebuilding strategy for disbanding former combatants and reintegrating them into society.
[3] Long-duration space flight is associated with slower heart rate and may increase arrhythmia susceptibility (D'Aunno et al. 2003).
[4] Based on this very insightful headcanon by BHG. Posted with permission.
[5] Frozen Teardrop, Chapter 4, Part I – AC 186 Summer