Heero, being the nice mama’s boy, stood with question and headed into the kitchen as we entered the living area, leaving the other boys to clean up the dishes.

Guilt? No, they need the practice of real dish cleaning. Something only a women can conquer without effort. I sat on the one sitted chair and leaned back, the fullness in my stomach slightly aching but allowing more room for coffee.

Let thee hear. There is -always- room for coffee.

The cynically and knowing smile of the short lady across the room rose my suspicion and caused my heart to beat slightly faster. Before she could bore into me more the rest of the gang had enter, coffee in hand.

We sat, and Trowa and Wufie made small talk with Quatre and Heero’s mother. Heero sat on the floor next to me, sipping his coffee, and nervously darting his eyes around the room.

What...was..going...on?

Heero’s mother cleared her voice, "Tsuo, darling, I think it’s time."

All three gundams suddenly perked up and looked straight to Heero. "Now?"

Wufie smirked. "I think now is a wonderful time Tsuo." Quatre nodded in agreement.

Heero pulled his collar as if he was hot and glanced at me with a look that said, -be prepared-. "Relena...I,"

"You have to get on your knees Heero." Quatre interrupted. Heero sent a glare his way and turned back to me, now on his knees.

"Relena, you see, we’ve...." He paused, "Known each other for a long time and I thought that maybe we could...um..."

I smiled. Suddenly knowing what he was trying to accomplish. I was enjoying watching him struggle to be normal, just as I had told him that day he asked me to join him on this trip.

"Relena, what Heero is trying to say is..." Wufie began...

"Will you marry him." Heero’s mother finished.

"I think it’s a wise choice." Wufie suggested.

"Oh, don’t they make a wonderful couple? How romantic." Heero’s mother rambled, Quatre nodding in agreement. Trowa didn’t say word, only watched his friend struggle to get out the words.

Heero took my hand into his, and suddenly the chatter left. He paused. Why was he being so hesitant? It’s just a fake proposal. "Relena, I’ve known you since I was fifteen. Your the only one who ever knew me, the real me. Your the one who knew when I was out of place, you know." He shook his head, "You know. Even now, you know..." his voice dropped the friendly charm that he used around his mother -who, by the way, wasn’t paying attention yet was making wedding plans with the others- and his eyes redeemed that glow. "I need you,"

Heero’s mother perked up, "Oh, he’s going to say it himself!"

"Marry me." Cheers exploded from the three clowns yet Trowa, being wise, waited for the response as did Heero.

I didn’t have much to think about. This was Heero, asking me to marry him so his mother would be happy. I took a breath and decided to give them a romantic ending. "Yes." I thought he would kiss me, laugh, do something like he did in the kitchen the other day.

Yet, he gave me a look that sent my mind into a web. His lips were stretched, yet, it wasn’t a smile. His eyes clung on to something, to me. He squeezed my hands. He pulled me forward and spoke with a tone I knew. "Thank you Mrs. Yuy."

Now he smiled, now he laughed, and pulled me up standing. "Good job. I think we’ve got her hooked."

I smiled shyly when they cheered, kiss her.

And he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our night time talks had become ritual to me. Tradition in such a short amount of time. It went like so; one of us would already be in bed, the other pacing around the room about something, the other would offer the other to lay down. We talk. We were close.

And even though he was guarding himself, -he- was there. Under those too calm and casual eyes, Heero was there. Watching me with pressed emotions that not even I could iron out. Just knowing though, that even though this was Heero acting, to even me in closed door, that he was still seeing me. He saw who I was finally. He saw me. Not the image I was.

That was both nerve-racking and relief. Only one other person saw me in this light: Duo Maxwell. Hilde? She admired me in that, ‘your the ex-queen of the world’ type of way. Was friendly naturally, and kept that connection that all women so desire. Duo, however, kept his cool image when we first met on that dock so many years ago. Yet, after the war things changed.

To say that we met again at a ball would be more pleasant to say, yet, our first meeting was at the supermarket.

Being foolish, I went alone without anyone, on a crave for a vegetarian hot dog. I held my head high and walked into that downtown supermarket in my too nice of shoes and jacket.

I was young. I was determined. I was hungry.

Turning around the ails with practice and skill I came to the vegetarian row and clicked instantly with a package that said in bold letters, "ToFu PuP - Meatless hot-dogs." I smirked and reached to grab that more -than -ready -to- eat package of hot-dogs only to find that someone else hand had grabbed it the same moment.

I had stared at the hand for a moment, deciding that it was male thus the owner to the hand must be a jerk, and that it was on -my- package of meatless hot-dogs. My eyes traveled up to the lean arm, up the golden, white neck and into a pair of violet eyes.

"Hi Ojousan." He said with a bit of provoking tone.

My eyes narrowed. "Duo Maxwell."

He chuckled slightly. "How have you been?"

I eyed him careful. "Wonderful, you?"

"Just great."

Neither of us let go.

He had grown, slightly taller than I, with his longer braid hanging loosely at his side. His smile was true yet careful. After all, this was war.

"Cut the crap Maxwell. This is the last package of hot-dogs and I want them." I dared him to counterfeit me with my eyes. He only kept that sardastic smile in place only annoying me more. "Move away from the hot-dogs or else it will get dirty in here."

Duo was now aware that I had no intention of letting him take my hot-dogs and instead dropped his smile and fought back in a low tone.

"I advice you to let go, step back, and walk to the door." Did this man just dispute me? I narrowed my eyes to slits.

He glared at me, I glared at him until we both smiled. "Dinner at your place?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not."

Yes, only one other person had seen the true me. We both did go to his place. He grilled them with a hint of barbecue sauce, giving it that American homestyle taste, with salad on the side. We talked of war, Heero, Hilde, and tofu products.

In truth, I had found my first friend. I owed my loneliness to nothing now, and thanked God in my prayers that night for Tofu PuPs.

But now, I had no meatless hot-dogs, I didn’t have my bestfriend or his girlfriend, I didn’t even have my favorite pair of socks. I had a new type of support. It came with chocolate spikes and a spicy scent with eyes that didn’t miss the detail of the wallpaper.

Heero.

Neither of us was really speaking. He was writing in a worn, summer cheery red notebook, his head bent, the lamp casting shadows across his face, with his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. I was reading a romance that I found on his mother’s table. Nothing magical about me.

I watched him out of the corner of my eyes. He would stop his pencil every other second and glance up; as if he was searching for another thought, another word. Finally, grace would abound and he would dive back into the spiral notebook before the cycle repeated.

Curiosity crept up like sudden blossoms and I found my lips moving with my consent.

"What are you writing?"

He didn’t look up but responded none the less. "A poem."

A poem. I repeated it over and over hoping that I had missed a word that would make it all come together.

And without that missing word, it still did. A poem. Heero Yuy was a poetic. "I never knew you liked poetry."

He smirked. "I never knew you liked cheap romances."

I raised an eyebrow. "Cheap? Tactful. That’s what it is. Very tactful."

He seemed half-way interested in an amused way. "Tactful? How so?"

I set the book down on my lap and stretched my arms while considering it. "You see, it had a directed audience. Women. And women have a directed topic: romance."

Heero blinked at me. I sighed.

"In other words, it’s all for the money." I sat the book on the bedstand with a defeated by embarrassment.

"And for you?" Heero asked, catching me off guard. For me? "It’s for the money to the author and editor, it’s for the romance to the readers. What is it for you?"

Realizing that this was my first real conversation with the real Heero Yuy struck me somewhere between his curious gaze and the hand that rested only inches away from my thigh.

"For me..." I spoke slowly, careful to speak what I really thought of it, " -For me, it’s for that little sensation you feel when the man tells the main character, since the main character is always a girl, that he loves her, he wants to spend his life with her. But not just that, no, it’s the moment where he says, your beautiful. Nothing compares. And even when you make a mistake, even when you don’t have that pound of makeup on that covers every detail nature graced you with, that he greets the day with the satisfaction that he will see you. When he says you amaze me...That is what it is for me. A simple wish."

It wasn’t until the moment I realized what I said that a rose swept my cheeks and I felt a burning in my gut. "You just heard all of that, didn’t you?"

His lips stretched and his eyes became light. "Nah, I wasn’t listening."

I wasn’t sure if he was lying or joking, but felt the butterflies in the stomach none the less.

"So-" I craved to cling on to something to cover my spilling aura. "What are you writing about."

"If I told you, I would have to kill you." -Hah, like you could. Would you like me to stand underneath a hanging chandelier for you too Mr. Yuy? Perhaps then you can cut the rope and make your life so much easier. "So, to keep the bloodshed off my nice white sleep shirt, I rather not tell you."

I glared. Since when did he become sarcastic?

"I should pack." The should was the keyword. I was just trying to pound the fact into my mind so maybe it would magically happen. I glanced at my halfway open suitcase, clothes scattered around it and sighed. Or not.

Heero dropped the notebook on the other side of the bed. "No, I think you should get some rest." He switched the lamp off on his side and turned to reach over to mine when he stopped and stared at me, for only a moment.

As if he was filing this moment into his mind so he would never forget the details of the quilted bed sheet, the pattern of crisscrosses on the pillow cover, or the way my hair was up loosely and fitted across my forehead. The smell of rising bread that was lined, solider like, on the counter, as well as the smell of coffee beans and oolong tea that pressed into the bedcover.

"Is it all that you thought it would be?" I asked, keeping my tone soft and questioning. I was curious to know what he thought of this trip.

His thumb brushed over my temple, and his eyes looked troubled. "More." He kissed my forehead gently. Before I could ponder his words or actions, the light went off and he had laid down, finding my fingers for his own. It was right like this. And in my dreams, I dreamt of becoming old, laying down to sleep, the same callus fingers tangled with my own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like magic. I felt myself fall into that younger girl I once was, lifting my hands to the pines above as the snow weaved in and out of them until I caught one in my mouth. Peace, I realized, came not only with the prevention of war, but of the life that came with each passing season.

The smell of cabin smoke and wet bark bitterly mingled into the smell of car exhaustion as Heero turned the key to the old truck. I watched as Trowa carried my suitcase to the back and nodded my way. Quatre waved from the window one last time and held his hands as a telephone mouthing, "Call me." I laughed and nodded to his content. Wufie gave me a peace sign, completely breaking his stiff-anti-women image. He then held up a sign along with a glare sent towards Quatre saying, "He Dared Me Too." But in slightly smaller letters was written, "Keep In Touch."

I was touched. He does care. Keeping emotions at bay, I turned on my heel to face her. The one who was the cause of this journey. Heero’s mother.

"I suppose you will need some last words of advice before you start any wedding plans."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She grabbed my elbow and held me closer, the snowflakes covering her black mitted hair, her lips chapped to a point, and her breath looking like smoke in the cold air. "Go with blue flowers for decorations. They’ll bring out your eyes."

I allowed myself to laugh and admit that I had become quite fond of this short little lady that tilted my world. She pulled me ever closer into a motherly hug. "Thank you."

Thank you for being an mother image that no one has given me, thank you for your kindness, thank you for your son. She pulled back and smiled, seeming as she understood all that I felt.

"Soon, you will learn something that will have you thanking me for more." She winked and gestured for her son to come on over. "Relena, won’t you take a picture of me and my son together? Take two, so we each have something." She handed me her Polaroid and stepped back to poise with her son.

I held the weightless camera in my hands as the two composed themselves. Heero wrapped his arm around his mother’s waist and soften his looks yet, did not smile, the short lady beamed.

"Okay, say cheese." Neither did. I pushed the button twice and out came to undeveloped pictures.

Slipping out the two pictures, I waved them around in the snow so they would developed faster. The air was getting colder, and our time here was ending. Heero gave his mother one last look, the same look he had given me before he turned out the lights. As if he was taking her in, to never be let go, every details, every snow flake in her hair.

He knew. He knew her, and in that moment, he was saying goodbye.

"You’ll call me when the wedding plans are being made?" Heero nodded. She sighed a fateful sigh, and embraced her son once more. "You have become a good man, despite the deaths, you are forgiven. No matter whom you killed. You did it for peace." She pulled back, wiped her eyes and recomposed herself in a instant grin. "Now, you two better hit the road so I can get back to my chess game with Quatre!"

Heero allowed himself to relax. "Are you winning?"

She narrowed her eyes and mocked anger. "Who do you think I am? Of course I’m winning." Her eyes soften and she graced us both with one last smile. "Hit the road."

I waved one last time. She bent over, just enough for a polite, tradition bow. Heero said or did nothing. Got in the car and waited for me to do the same.

His mother’s back was fading up the stairway, the snow alluding the empty space, showing no evidence that she or that tiny cabin was still there.