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"Take heed in everything that has been accomplished. Define the limits of protection and never lose doubt. The battle is already won gentlemen. Victory is how we maintain our subject at hand: peace. Consider your options and choose carefully. Peace, as we have all learned, does not come in a package with a colonies stamp." She scanned the room over, taking in the darkness that reflected back at her. Although she could not see faces, she could see outlines and hear the murmur rise from the audience. She resented the spot lights that blinded her pushed that thought to the side and focused herself more thoroughly.

"Grace is giving from a heart with nothing to give. This is what I give to you today. Hope. Hope when I have none at times. Hope when I can not summon enough strength to see the day through. Hope when weapons are secretly being made behind our backs to break another war and for what? Humanity to take the vicious cycle back into our daily lives? And for what may one ask? So that it may be written down in a history book for under educated kids to read in the future?"

She cocked her head to the side when the rise of cheers and clapping echoed throughout the faces she could not define. They agreed with her, she mused, yet, they did not understand what she was saying. The sadness and truth to her thought made her gut tighten. They would never learn. Never see. Never understand that war is a cycle. One that she has stopped, yet, ensured peace?

That was what she was trying to do now. Trying to express. Trying to keep her repute and do the right thing.

With an inward sigh, her lips move once again nimbly, the words she said, she didn’t remember, and for sure, her audience wouldn’t remember either. Only her pretty smile, and graceful movement of which they call and name peace.

With an inward cry, she smiled to the darkness and felt a chill embrace her as the applause rose to a height that she did not know. She bowed to a degree that her tight gown would barely allow and walked off the stage with agile steps all while keeping the emotions at bay and the wall that held her composure up. Though, the hurt was still there, evident in her voice, evident in her actions, evident in the longing her eyes didn’t dare to hamper.

Why be hammy; she thought, when I’m just a gowk?

Her reseda eyes held a oceanic glaze: as close as tears as she would get here, now, at home, alone. Tears did not strengthen. Instead she smiled harder, thinner. Made her back longer, straighter.

She did it all for the cameras, the reporters, the fans.To them she was requisite for being Minister. Reputable. She permeated through them with nimble steps and odd ease.She did it because being truthful, being honest at how disgusted she was with them was wrong.

But doing the right thing when your not sure what that is, is harder then it sounds.

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‘Document A. Access Denied. Authorized only.’

Heero smirked. And who gave the authority to tell them who was authorized or not? He was only going to speculate. Was that such a crime? With a few knots he learned in training he pressed the enter key and watched as the so called. "authorized only" documents flashed before his screen with a pace unreadable.

-Document A

The whereabouts of any groups trying to start a so called, ‘war’ or is making weapons illegally is asked to eliminate on spot. The risk of war to start before the world-leaders get together to calmly state the rules of war and weapon making is too high.

Heero’s eyes became slits. "That didn’t tell me a damn thing I didn’t already know."

He sighed warily. On to document b then.

Before he could type anything useful on the overused keyboard his cell phone rang once. Then paused for a full minute and rung again. That was his cue. He flipped it over and turned it on with one hand -eyes still glued to the pc- and responded to the words that was just blurted out to him on the other side with his usual toneless tone

"She has, has she?"

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"Are you sure you don’t want any company? The need for guards is useless but perhaps a friend?" Noin sounded slightly concerned but she knew Relena well enough to except her refusal and strong determined mind. However, now the youngest Peacecraft had a tired glow, still armed with her smile that could defeat anyone’s conscious. Relena watched the trees pass by from the car window with soft wonder.

"I’ll be fine." Her voice sounded awkward to her brother and sister in law. The silence only deepened when her voice filled it’s empty arms. "I’ll call Hilde or someone a couple of times to keep my sanity. I need the time to be alone before I go touring again with peace promotions."

Relena felt herself walking on eggshells as she spoke about the sensitive subject. She was already conquered by obligation to take this new tour yet she still resented it. She couldn’t cry to let go, to let her burden escape for just a harmless moment. She felt drugged by the day, dazed with the rain that wasn’t there.

Numbness comes with a reason, a story. She felt like she was just a presence to fill in the empty mass, and when she was gone, peace was gone.

What true pacifism was she promoting?

With an ironic smile she laughed silently. She was, indeed weird, she decided. That was the most blunt way to put it. She nibbled on cheap bon bons as she watched the mountains in the distant get bigger with each stride of the car motor while she listened to the static of western music, the only radio station they could get to her great dismay.

"See those mountains?" she tilted her head towards the gray-shadows that outlined a range. Millardo looked at his sister through the mirror and cocked his head.

"Yes."

"Those," she said carefully, "Are not mountains." Noin scrunched her face up in confusion.

If they weren’t mountains, "-what are they then?"

She said the answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Mountains."

Millardo consider her for a moment, deciding she was playing a joke. "Elaborate dear sister of mine." He said amused, in a teasing voice. Relena took him seriously.

"Mountains are mountains, thus, mountains are not mountains." She paused for a moment and looked distant like she was captured by some .loss memory. Her eyes locked contact with her brothers before she spoke again in a dull tone. "Do you understand?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"No you don’t." She responded. No one understood her motives, her words. Yet agreed to make comfort for themselves and for her. False hope, she decided, was a pill for suicide. A bitter smile swept over her features as they continued on the straight road. She didn’t speak again.

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He was sure it was just the drugs of the long night that was making him see things. It had to be. The words on the computer screen did not click, they did not make sense. How could this man be selling weapons. That just didn’t make sense.

Heero ran a hand through is hair distraughtly and sighed. If this man was, indeed, selling weapons, he had plans, plans to start something. Yet, due to this man’s file, he hasn’t told the receiver of the weapons his plans.

Plans for a war. Therefore, if his life could be deleted, no one would know. No one would understand.

But if this man was to be killed that meant....

Heero shook his head at himself disgustedly. Since when did he care who the person he was that he took their life? He was here for one reason and one reason only. To maintain peace.

Heero typed into his laptop, asking that his information to be checked and cleared before he didn’t anything rash.

The permission and permanence he received back was slightly disappointing. The thought of killing someone again ate his stomach as he felt something stir in the bottom of his gut.

He looked at his sore hands, the skin simply rubbed of them. He would have to get his hands dirty again.

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Moving through the night, he erased all thought of himself, thus, creating only mass that filled the air, nothing more, nothing less. Moving in and out of shadows he passed security like it was a kids coarse, using only part of his intelligence and strength. Slightly disappointed that the window ledge was taller than his head, he gripped his hands on the rail and lifted himself up, careful to not let a sound escape his lips.

Feet touching the ground without sound, he pulled out pocket knife, carefully cutting a perfect square. Using a suction he pulled the discarded glass out and pulled his body inside.

"Well, I knew you would find out. It was just the matter of when." He spoke the words with a bitter amusement: allowing no fear to show if he had any. Heero regarded the man’s back for a moment before pulling out his gun and disarming the lock.

"You told no one." He was stating the information. Looking for a confirmation to which his prey nodded.

"You should know that from the file you read." His head shifted. "Didn’t tell a soul with my lips."

Heero smirked. Good. Very good. This whole thing could stop here. With a single shot. Then he would just need to blow up the factories of weapons and lo and behold, mission complete, peace, secured once again.

One good thing would come out of this. He would kill this man. This man that had insulted his past, his presence and his future with mere challenges that he engaged himself in as a wistful teenager. This man had taken his pride and simply did nothing with it yet rob it.

And here this man was, at the wrong side of Yuy’s gun. Heero took in the entire room before he even looked around. He knew that the vase to his right was red with pink embroidered flowers, he knew that carpet was a dark green. He knew it all. To every detail, to every extent. Somewhere, pride filled him.

It was all self-taught. He was the best, trained by the best: himself. Something he didn’t understand at the time, and still didn’t grasp now: yet, the words themselves gave him unspeakable pride.

He wanted to glorify upon it by taken this simple life that would make his life a lot easier to live without.

"I have one last request before you do anything rash," the man from the chair said carefully. "Take care of her. She’s....not well." He sighed. "And with the coming death, she will not get any better."

Silence took them both for a moment before the man’s voice took a desperate plead. "Give me your word."

Heero lowered his gun only a couple of inches and stared into the back the man’s head. His word. He wanted his word? Heero felt the room become irrespiral and faltered. To give his word means that he could never hurt this girl even if she became a threat-

"Please." The man begged again. Heero, remembering his code, remembering her face, remembering his repute, nodded without realizing that the man couldn’t see him. Holding the up the gun again, focused on his target, his index finger rubbed the trigger slowly up and down, a habit he formed while taking in the last few moments of his victim’s lives, letting them savor their last breath.

"You have my word." The man let of a breath of relief, the echo of a gun shot only a distant memory now.

But to the retreating form, the memory was reliving itself within second. He ran to his home as fast as he could. His hands were dirty and needed to be washed.

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Author's notes:: I'll try to send a few chapters in each week. This shouldn't be too long...I don't think. Who knows. I would love to have some good feedback. Actually I'm despreate but lets just keep that between you and I, all right?