The Perfect Weapon

By Loyce

Rating: NC-17

She was killing him. And she was taking her sweet time doing it.

It was a slow death. Merciless. Completely unlike her usual compassionate nature. With each passing night, he lost a little more of his strength. Like Samson enduring a leisurely shave, his willpower diminished with each second that ticked by on the clock. She took a breath here, and stole a heartbeat there. It was a slow torture she exacted on him, weakening his defensives night after endless night. Sometimes, the pain was too much to bear, and the bitter taste of blood would fill his mouth as he bit his bottom lip to stop from crying out.

He refused to show her any weakness. But each night, he wondered how much longer he could hold out against the relentless punishment.

She was never constant with her torment. There were times she struck without warning, and then there were times were she toyed with him, like some kind of cruel foreplay.

But there was one thing that was invariable throughout this ordeal. Relena had finally found a way to break ‘the perfect soldier.’

She used the perfect weapon: Her body.

****************************************

Pulling passed the front gate of the mansion, Heero sighed. This was payback; a way for her to get her revenge for the incident in the shelter three weeks prior. He had thought it would take her a while to come up with a way to get him back, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt at the time, there would be retribution, but it had only taken her a week. A week wasn't long enough to forget the tantalizing feel of her skin pressed against his, or erase the memory of her whispered voice groaning his name in sheer ecstasy. The look in her eyes when it was over… Well, before he unlocked the cuffs and left her standing there, had been perfect, frightening, loving. He had wanted to say something to her, but words failed him. And when Duo had unlocked the shelter and set them free, the last thing he wanted was to reveal their secret. So he turned away.

And that was his crime.

Thinking that she would use some type of guilt that all women seemed to be born with, and used only for special occasions, he wasn’t prepared when she hadn’t fought with the weapons he knew how to defend against. Tears, the cold shoulder, he'd seen and faced them all.

No, she had to use the one that had the most power of his body and mind.

The moon was shining overhead, spilling rays of silver over the landscape. All the lights were on in the mansion, counteracting the natural light of the evening. The stars twinkled from million of miles away as he pulled the black pickup truck up to the massive staircase leading to the front porch.

Turning the key in the ignition, Heero killed the engine and let his forehead fall against the steering wheel. A war was waging inside of him; the masochistic part of him wanted to go inside and be subjected to her torture, while the other part refused to let him get out of the truck.

Even now, he could still feel the soft texture of her skin underneath his lips, her hands roaming across his chest. And of course, the wonderful sensations of her body completely wrapped around his. Hell, he had relived it in his mind every moment since.

How she had gotten this idea, he had no idea.

It started out innocently enough: mad as a hornet, she moved him from the day shift to watching her on Mids, and totally screwed with his already disturbed sleeping schedule. When putting him on the midnight shift, she also made sure that he wasn’t posted outside her bedroom door, but back in the ‘booth.’ The 'booth’, as Duo called it, was nothing more than a broom closet crammed with the latest surveillance equipment. Televisions against one wall played live action feeds from the security cameras stationed along the perimeter, as well as the one in Relena’s bedroom.

Right there, warning flags should have gone up; as Duo had once said, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned... or really really pissed off!"

The first night of his new duty, Heero sat in the most uncomfortable chair and watched as Relena came into the bedroom from her evening meal and flopped on her bed. She lay there for a few moments before flipping onto her stomach and retrieving a catalogue from the bedside table. She turned the pages, and with magic marker in hand, she marked her way through it with circles on almost every page.

He zoomed the camera in to find out what she was looking at; but he couldn't get close enough to make out any of the pictures on the glossy pages. For nearly three hours, she perused the booklet before grabbing the phone. Looking up at the clock, Heero couldn’t help but wonder what kind of organization would take orders at one am.

The conversation only lasted a few minutes, and Heero kicked himself the whole time for not bugging her personal line. After she hung up the phone, Relena kicked off her shoes and snuggled into the down comforter. She fell asleep that night with a smile on her face.

Again, he should have known she was up to something. The next day had marked the beginning of his excruciating sentence.

Heero lifted his head from the steering wheel and rubbed his face with his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Duo standing up at the top of the stairs, tapping his foot with impatience. Grabbing his keys, he opened the door and climbed out of the vehicle.

He expected the funeral march to start playing at any moment as he climbed closer to the front door. Tonight, if she continued, he wasn’t going to survive. The invisible strands that held his sanity were stretched tight, beyond any normal man's breaking point, but on the threshold of his. He'd almost given in last night. He'd stood there for minutes, his hand gripping the doorknob so tight his knuckles were about to break. Where was no way he would be able to stop himself tonight. And she would completely break him.

The heavy sound of his boots against the marble echoed in the silence of the night. Even the crickets seemed to know that a storm was brewing inside the mansion, since they weren’t out singing their nightly song.

‘They probably ran for cover... Like I should do.’

Violet eyes looked exasperated with him. “Where in the hell have you been? You were supposed to have been here at 2100 hours!”

“What are you going on about, Maxwell?”

Duo smacked his head. “You forgot, didn’t you? I was ‘supposed’ to start vacation today, but now, thanks to you, I’ll probably be heading home to an empty house because Hilde had been looking forward to this trip to L2 for weeks. She more than likely left me behind.” Grabbing the duffel bag that had been discarded at his feet, Duo headed down the stairs. “Thanks a heap, Yuy.”

Heero turned around and watched his braided friend run down the stairs, taking them two at a time. It was going to kill him, but he had to ask. “Duo?”

The young man stopped and tossed an irritated look over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Did Relena get any..." He swallowed against the tight lump in his throat. "Packages today?”

Duo scratched his head, and Heero could swear the air held a hint of smoke. “No, nothing today. Kind of weird after all the ones that had come over the past two weeks. Why do you ask?”

Blood rushed to his cheeks and he was thankful the light from the mansion cast shadows on his face. “No reason.”

“Yeah, right.” Rolling his eyes, Duo continued on his way, leaving Heero to wonder just how much Duo knew.

He moved to the front door and stared at the doorknob like it was a deadly cobra ready to strike him at the slightest movement. Taking a deep breath, he took hold, pushed it open and walked into the lion’s den.

Packages. Simple, harmless packages. Or so he had thought.

The following day started off with the normal routine. Trowa took point on her guard detail, leaving him to sit and do the security checks on the system for the night. The door to her bedroom opened on the screen, but he didn’t pay it any mind. Going through the list, he finally finished and turned his attention to the surveillance of her room.

When he focused on the monitor, Relena was nowhere to be seen. He took control of the camera and panned around her room, looking for some sign of her. The French doors to the balcony were closed and locked. She wasn’t at her desk working on her laptop. Tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose, but fell the moment he realized the bathroom door was closed. Though something was not right with the room.

Sweeping over the layout again, Heero noticed a nondescript brown box lying in the middle of Relena’s bed; its packing peanuts spilled out like a stuffed animal that had been gutted. His curiosity sparked instantly. Could she have received whatever it was she had ordered that quickly? What had she bought?

With his eyes glued to the screen, he waited for her to emerge from the bathroom. Seconds ticked into minutes, which spanned into an hour. Heero finally gave up and turned back to his neglected duties. It was hard to keep his focus on the task when he was dying to know what Relena was doing in her bathroom. Rushing through the routine hourly check, he finished just in time to see the bathroom door swing open, with Relena standing in the threshold.

He knew immediately what it was she had ordered.

The cerulean blue gown was the same color of her eyes and caused the pale coloring of her skin to glow. Held on by nothing more than two thin straps, it cut down in a low neckline, exposing and conforming to her breasts at the same time. But the thing that sent his heart racing and made his mouth go dry, was that the gown tied just below her chest, and then fell down to the ground, leaving her stomach and smooth legs revealed. A small piece of fabric, that could barely be called underwear was strung across her hips, and brought back memories of the thong she had worn on THAT day.

His pants became uncomfortable as he watched her timidly walk out of the bathroom, her cheeks stained with a deep blush. She made her way across the room, never looking up at the camera, her gaze completely focused on the bed. It was endearing, the demure way she carried herself even after he had explored her body in the most intimate of ways. But at the same time, it was maddening to see her like that, and not be able to run his hands over the material.

As if she had been listening in on his traitorous thoughts, she quickly threw back the comforter and climbed into bed. Before she turned out the lights, Heero watched in amusement as she pulled the heavy blanket completely up to her chin, covering every inch of her body. He was surprised that she didn’t cover her head too. The lights went out and the room was then cast only in the faint light from the quarter moon. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling for the longest time, as if unable to fall asleep. And Heero watched when sleep finally overtook her.

She was a restless sleeper; he’d known that from previous night's assignment. Her mind never shut down enough for her to fall into a complete, deep sleep. And during the course of the night, she managed to kick off the blankets, the silk nightie tangled up around her waist, unfairly exposing the g-string that made her outfit a matching set.

It took a while for him to remember how to breathe and even longer to quit imagining what it would be like to pull the strings on the entire outfit and have it fall from her body. The night dragged on, and Heero tried to focus his mind on other things: the outside camera feeds, the number of pinholes in the ceiling, how many times seven minutes went into eight hours… Damn.

When it was finally morning, he turned away from the screen as she climbed from her bed, and began counting the minutes until he could take a cold shower.

During the changing of the guard to the morning shift, Heero passed her in the hall. She blushed and avoided eye contact. Their shoulders brushed against each other and Heero felt a rush of blood at the brief contact. Too many memories and vivid images rose to the surface with such a simple touch. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her hand. She stopped in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder.

And then he did something he would regret for the rest of his life: He smirked.

The fire came back into her eyes, the same fire that he had seen the day he had left her in the closet with the handcuff he had undone, resting at her side. Pulling her hand away, he read the unmistakable sentence on her face.

‘I will win this time, Heero Yuy.’

And she was winning …

Heero shook his head and moved through the foyer, making his way for the staircase when he encountered Relena’s faithful servant and friend.

“Good evening, Master Yuy,” Pagan said with a slight bow. “Do you require anything from the kitchen before I retire for the night?”

“No, thank you, Pagan.” He looked up to the second floor of the house. “Has Relena vacated to the second floor yet?”

The elderly man nodded. “Yes, sir. She went up a few hours ago. In a foul mood, nonetheless.”

“Hn. Thanks.” He took a step, then paused to look back over his shoulder, and added: “I’ll keep her safe tonight.”

It was something he said all the time to the servant, and each time he said those simple words, the butler’s features relaxed before he went his way for the night.

Clearing his throat and gathering his courage, Heero started up the stairs.

The packages continued to come and every afternoon another plain brown box appeared. Jokes started spreading around the mansion that Relena was having an affair with the deliveryman, but Heero knew the truth. She was having an affair with him; one where he could only watch and not touch. Each night, there was a different outfit, and each outfit surpassed the next. Heero could remember the details of his favorite ones.

On the fifth night of her so-called torture, Relena had come out of the bathroom wearing something he later learned was called a ‘babydoll’. The stretchy, jade-colored lace barely covered her backside, which was clad in matching bikini cut underwear. The top of the outfit sat off her shoulders, leaving the swells of her breast uncovered. She sat at her vanity and brushed out the long strands of her hair until they shone like gold. Unlike the first night, she wasn’t as shy, and walked about the room with more confidence before turning in for the night.

In the matter of a few days, she had reduced him into a glorified Peeping Tom. Use whatever analogy you like, moth to a flame or an addict to his drug. But there was no doubt about it; he was hooked.

The day he realized all of this was the day she wore his favorite outfit. The black mesh chemise had keyholes cut into the sides and was held together by a thin strip of material that wrapped around her waist. Relena stood in front of the full-length mirror for the longest time, admiring her reflection. She turned from side to side, examining the lines of the garment, like she was showing him that it accentuated her features. He didn’t need to be told. His eyes drank in every curve…

He was probably going to burn in hell for the ideas running rampant through his mind. Subconsciously, he lifted his index finger and traced the outline of her body on the screen, and almost like a timed response, Relena shuddered for a moment. The mesh didn’t hide much of her skin, and he was surprised that she wasn't freezing in her sleep when the covers slid over the edge of the bed.

Heero rounded the corner and marched down the hallway, hoping neither his face, nor his pants, betrayed what he had been thinking about. The red carpet cushioned his heavy footsteps as he made his way towards Relena’s bedroom to check in with the guard. His palms grew sweaty the closer he moved to her room, and it became more difficult to breathe. The blood pulsed through his veins at a fast pace, and he could hear the uneven beating of his heart.

Sure enough, like every night, Trowa was seated outside her door, his legs crossed in front of him as he slumped in the chair. The brown haired man’s chin rested against his chest, feigning the appearance of sleep, but Heero knew those ears never missed a sound.

“You’re late.”

He glared as Trowa lifted his head, one dark green eye shining with what Heero could only assume was amusement. “I know.” Turning his attention elsewhere, he nodded in the direction of Relena’s bedroom door. “I take it things are in order.”

“She went in about two hours ago, locked the door and threw something at the wall.”

“Hn.”

As he walked away, he couldn’t be happier to hear that she was locking her door. He’d kill anyone that stepped into her room and saw her dressed in the lingerie, or out of it. That was the newest stage of her torture. With the passing days, each outfit became a little more risqué and Relena became bolder and more confident with her body.

During the first few days, Relena would grab the box and run off to the bathroom, pulling the door firmly shut behind her, leaving Heero to sit and wait for her emergence. He found himself sitting on the edge of his seat, like a child counting down on Christmas morning until he was allowed to wake up his parents.

As days progressed, the bathroom door wasn’t pulled as tightly shut as it was on the first few days. At first it started out opened just a tiny bit, wide enough for Heero to make out the movements of Relena stripping out of her clothes. Then the gap grew so he was able to catch a glimpse of a leg here, or the contour of her back there - teasing him with memories of how it felt with those same long legs fastened around him.

And then one day, she had left the door completely open. At first, he had thought she wasn’t going to change. That was until he saw her reflection in the mirror and watched carefully as she began to unbutton her blouse. It was a perfectly planned attack, and he could have sworn she had to have practiced the whole thing. Especially since she was turned just the right way, so all he could see was the reflection of the entire back of her body.

He had spent an hour in the shower that night. The cold streams of water failed miserably to drown out the images of her: arms going up over her head to remove her blouse, hair falling in a long golden shower, and just a hint of the lace cup of her bra; bending completely over to remove the last piece of clothing – a black thong that made his heart stop and his brain memorize the position for hopefully future reference.

But last night… Heero swallowed and tried to concentrate on opening the door to the booth. He didn't want to remember, but at the same time...Last night, there was not enough cold water in the world.

She walked into the room, carrying a smaller box than any of the others that had been delivered before. Setting it down on the bed, Relena grabbed the pair of scissors of her desk and carefully slit open the tape. He watched with baited breath, waiting for her to pull out her latest outfit from beneath the shipping peanuts.

Her hands sunk into the box, but instead of pulling out a flimsy piece of fabric, she pulled out a small candle.

Disappointment ran through his veins, cooling his heated blood in an instant. The need she had created over the past two weeks paced like a caged lion inside of him. What game was she playing this time?

Kicking off her shoes, Relena padded to the stereo system and after a few minutes of deliberating, picked out three cds and popped them into the tray, before turning the volume up. Her eyes kept flashing up at the camera as she walked back over the bed, a hidden smile shining in their depths. She took the pink colored candle, set it on the night stand and, striking a match she had grabbed from the top drawer, lit the wick. With a flick of her wrists, all the lights in her bedroom extinguished.

The candle bathed the room in a dim, flickering light, and he was instantly rushed back in time to their storage closet - when her skin glowed in the faint illumination of the light bulb and perhaps from the heat of her skin against his…

Heero's eyes widened. Was she going to recreate…

His mind went blank as she moved away from the bed. She stood in the middle of the bedroom, her back turned towards the spying eye of the camera, and with one quick motion, she pulled the confining ribbon from her hair, sending the long strands cascading down her back.

Was she really that brazen?

She answered his question when she kicked off her shoes and reached around to undo the zipper on her skirt. The clasp inched down its track, parting the material of her skirt to reveal a pair of light purple panties. Her thumbs tucked into the waistband of the skirt and swinging her hips gently, she pushed the garment off her body, letting it pool at her feet.

Her legs were encased in a pair of creamy white thigh high stockings, held up by tiny straps that connected with the underwear. Stepping out of the discarded skirt, Relena moved her hands around to undo the buttons of her shirt, still keeping her back to him the entire time. Not that he minded the view she was providing.

He moved to the edge of the chair, trying to calm his idle hands. His heart was pumping faster than the first time he had a run in with the Zero System. The air in the tiny room grew hot and thick, causing him to grasp at the collar of his shirt and pull it away from his neck. Still, breathing didn’t come any easier for him.

Relena’s hands stilled when she hit the last button and he saw her shoulders rise and fall as she let out a huge sigh. Shrugging her shoulders, the shirt fell down her arms, stopping at her elbows and uncovering a bra the same color as the silken panties. She let her arms fall to her sides and the blouse glided off and landed in a heap on top of her skirt.

He forgot how to breathe. When they had spent those few incredible minutes in the closet, the limited movements from the handcuffs hadn’t let him move back and observe every line of her body; to find the birthmarks, learn her ticklish spots by lightly running his hands over every inch. But to see her standing there, letting him drink his fill, caused his pants to tighten with record speed.

Both hands reached around to her back and began fumbling with the hooks of her bra. He found himself talking to the screen, as if directing her which way to move her hands to rid herself of the garment. Slowly, she peeled it off and tossed the garment over her shoulder. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Turning around, with her limbs barely hiding the treasures beneath, she looked directly into the camera and smiled. Not one of those sweet and innocent smiles she flashed at the media daily, but a smile reserved for seduction.

The smile faltered slightly as she released her hold on her shoulders and let her hands rest against her hips. She jutted out on hip and readjusted her ‘come hither’ stare. Never once did she take her eyes off the camera as she moved across the floor and lay down on the bed.

Her fingers dances along the top of the comforter while one leg moved up and down, rubbing against the other. He watched her tongue dart out and moisten her lips. Every little move she made twisted him more, and a few times, he got up out of the chair and paced the floor, trying to keep himself from marching down there and taking her without warning or reservation.

Was this the final stage of her torture? Was it an invitation?

He never found out, since he didn't leave the safety of the room; she fell asleep, clad only in panties, garters, and a serious frown.

Sinking down into the chair, Heero looked at the security checklist before tossing it aside. Part of him reprimanded him for the gross neglect of his duty and her safety, but the man that she had awakened in him didn’t care. Carefully flipping switches, he reconnected the feed from her bedroom to the biggest screen in the room.

Trowa and Pagan were right; she was definitely in a foul mood. Lying against the wall closest to the balcony was a plush teddy bear. Its brown fur was slightly matted and worn in places, and the red ribbon around its neck was faded and frayed. A frown marred his features as he looked at the helpless animal, lying on its side on the floor.

Her anger was unquestionably directed at him.

From off screen, Relena came marching across the floor. Her long hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, the white tank top she was wearing looked to be two sizes too small and the black fitted shorts barely covered her butt. And on her face, she was wearing a determined look, the same look she sported when going into the political arena.

A lump formed in his throat as he watched her bend over to retrieve her tennis shoes from under the bed. The shorts pulled across her backside, making him want to place his hands there and mold her against his body. The see-through white fabric of her shirt could not hide the fact that the air conditioning in her room was turned up way too high. How could something so plain and common be even more revealing and sexier than the skimpy pieces of lace she had been wearing to bed every night?

She sat down on the bed and blew at stray strand of hair, before hastily tucking it behind her ear. It only took her a few seconds to jam her feet into the tennis shoes she hadn’t even bothered untying. Placing her hands on her knees, she rose from the bed, grabbed a small white towel and a water bottle that had been sitting on her desk, and headed for the door.

Before Heero could contact Trowa on the com-link, Relena had thrown the bedroom door open. He could see the startled look on the Trowa’s face, but before she walked completely out of the room, she turned back to the camera and waved: with one finger.

She slammed the door closed; Heero could swear the sound echoed throughout the entire mansion.

A few seconds later, the crackling of the com-link filled the tiny room. “What did you do this time?”

Heero cut the connection and placed his head in his hands. It wasn’t what he had done, but what he didn’t do.

Cursing himself for being a dumb ass, Heero shot out of the chair and went after Relena.