(((AN: I am breaking my one rule very directly for this one – not even bending it – outright breaking it. This continues from part 10! Good lord! The world is falling around my ears!)))

Relena fiddled with her hair. It wasn’t the quick and demure pat to the head, or even the consistent brushing away from the face. This was an all out examination of the silky blond threads as she stroked a clump of the strands and ran them over her chin, her lips, her nose, and eventually dropping it to pick up a different bunch. This nervous behavior was starting to drive her impromptu hairdresser to distraction. A well manicured hand slapped at Relena’s own with a sharp clear noise, followed by an exclamation.

“I said STOP THAT. Look, I need to finish your hair and I’m almost done, but I won’t get anywhere with this if you keep fidgeting like that, got it?” Dorothy’s ferocious tones might intimidate others, but Relena had become somewhat numb to them after a few years.

“Sorry.” But even as she said it she picked at her hair, curling some hairs around one finger.

“Now you must be doing this just to make me mad, right?” Dorothy’s foot tapped the bathroom floor and the tiles, it put Relena in mind of a rogue metronome. Dorothy resumed her ministrations. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re holding all the cards right now. You have beauty, poise, style, grace, wit, and most importantly you have the element of surprise. The tactically brilliant but emotionally ignorant man you insist on pursuing will have to appreciate how you forced yourself to have the upper hand, if nothing else.”

“That doesn’t exactly sound reassuring, Dorothy, but thank you anyway.” The ironic smile on Relena’s lips fell a bit and she started to fiddle with the belt on her robe rather than continuing to mess up her hair. The smooth fabric gave her little solace from the fluttering in her stomach. It wasn’t just Heero, but she was afraid of what people would think when they saw her in the dress she had purchased mere hours ago. It wasn’t that it was indecent, per se, but there were some aspects to it that. . . well. . .

“And there you are. Simple, I know, but it should stay nearly perfectly the rest of the night since I put a little gel in to firm it up and keep the volume in. If he doesn’t drop to your feet and worship you as a goddess tonight I’ll be sorely disappointed. Now for the makeup.”

“Makeup?” Relena looked concerned. “I don’t wear makeup.” She owned: lipgloss, some white face paint left over from Halloween two years ago, and one stick of light pink lipstick that was just for when she had to appear on television.

“I figured that would be the case, and lucky for you I am prepared.” Dorothy disappeared, only to come back in with the large purse she had carried with her when they were shopping. From the black hole of this purse Dorothy pulled out eyeliner, mascara, eyelash curlers, lipstick, and pencils of various sorts as well as other implements.

“But my public image. . .”

“Won’t suffer from one night of wearing makeup. Don’t fight me on this because you won’t win. Besides, there is no reason to do this by halves. Now hold still, I don’t want to poke your eye out.” Yet another inspiring comment. Dorothy carefully applied color to Relena’s eyes and lips. “I can’t believe you sometimes. No makeup indeed.”

“My public relations advisor and I had a discussion a few years ago and we decided that I should try to retain a clean cut and ‘down to earth’ image as long as possible. The more youthful I look, the better I do in the surveys.” Relena closed her eyes and tried not to think of what Dorothy was jabbing her with or what chemicals had gone into it.

“Look, you cannot be sixteen forever, no matter what the public likes. It’s times you gave yourself a chance to grow up. Hell, you’ve had to do live an adult’s life since you were fifteen and they expect you to be a child for them too? I could never be so accommodating, my friend.” Dorothy snorted in derision at the situation in general, not at Relena in specific. Dorothy made soft noises as she worked, softly humming but following no tune. “You can open your eyes now.”

Relena was almost afraid to comply. When she allowed her eyes to crack open, she found to her immense surprise that the work Dorothy had done had transformed her despite altering so little. Just a little color, a tint change to her lips, the push up of her eyelashes—Relena couldn’t believe that you could get such dramatic change. Maybe she should invest in some makeup of her own. The orchestrater of this stood behind Relena, admiring her work with a smug look. With a nod to herself, as if reassuring her course of action, Relena stood and let the robe fall away so that she could look at the combined effect with the gown.

“It will do. Now get downstairs and knock him on his ass.” Dorothy packed away her things. “I’ll leave the lipstick just in case you need to touch it up tonight.” A broad wink followed this statement. “See you soon.”

Before Dorothy could leave the room, Relena quickly caught her and held her hand in lieu of hugging her and possibly messing up the work her friend had accomplished. “Thank you, so very much.” There was so much honest and warm emotion in Relena’s voice that Dorothy found herself embarrassed to be exposed to such raw emotion. A blush brushed her high cheekbones and she nodded and took her leave.

Relena looked at herself in the full length mirror that lay inside her closet. Normally she only used it to make a rigorous check every morning to assure herself that she was immaculate. It was not vanity, but a sense of propriety and the distinct awareness of her position and image that prompted that daily examination. The same critical sense, built of habit, made her look at herself with an eye that could only find fault. The hair, full and a little wild, was relatively unkempt and the part on the side forced some hair over one eye. It was impractical. The dusky brown that touched at her eyes, and the way her lashes seemed so long and dark, gave her an exotic look that was foreign to her own self image. It was out of character. The deep, dark wine of her lips and dress was an unacceptable shade. Red was not demure. And the dress itself was something she couldn’t even bring herself to think about lest she lose all the nerve she had gathered in the past hours.

She was pinching the bridge of her nose, in an attempt to bring relief to the headache she anticipated getting from the stress when the knock came at her door.

“Relena, we need to leave soon.” Shaking her head to clear it, she grabbed her purse off her bed and dropped the lipstick into it. Heero’s voice had been flat, but she knew that he didn’t like it when she didn’t keep to the schedule. The one he had made to assure a quick and seamless arrival was about to be set off kilter by her own human error. Maybe tonight she could make him a little more human as well.

When she opened the door to face him, putting the shoulder wrap on, she didn’t see his eyes widen or his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, but she did see the way he pressed his lips together in slight irritation before he offered her his arm. She wouldn’t allow herself to be disappointed. After all, she had all night.

*

*

*

Heero kept his eyes forward, on the road, scanning for signs of trouble ostensibly, but actually simply trying to keep himself distracted. Every time they passed a street light Relena’s bared shoulders lit up and he was temped to look over, but he refused to make a fool of himself again as he had when they had taken their seats in the back of the car and the slit he had not noticed previously on her dress fell away a bit to expose her right leg to the upper thigh. He had hit his head on the car while getting in, staring at it, and absently he rubbed the red spot as he rearranged his bangs to cover it. Since making Dorothy’s life a living hell for this torture was unwise, he would make sure to give Quatre trouble next time he saw him. That man needed to be more aware of what his wife did, since it was obvious she was capable of immeasurable mischief.

This was not the Relena he knew.

The Relena he knew was proper. She didn’t have this languid stride that shifted her hips in that beguiling way, or a penchance for wearing dresses that were cut so low and slit so high. When he had noted that as she breathed the front of her dress would slide open just enough to confirm a lack of bra he had realized how very fascinating he suddenly needed to find the foliage of the passing trees.

He tried to find a reason to be indignant. From a professional point of view he couldn’t allow her to be in public like this since it was distracting, but this was not a valid reason since he should not have been distracted by anything let alone the way she was dressed. It wasn’t as if he had any say in her wardrobe, so he couldn’t personally protest. Even if he could lay out an argument from a personal perspective, how would he phrase it? You’re too. . . sexy?

Wrong choice of words. Now that he had connected Relena and sex in his mind, there was no way to extract the concepts from one another. Heero’s eyes went wide as flashes of that time he had burst into the bathroom flickered, unbidden, before his eyes. The way her chest had heaved a little in shock, the hair that had hung down around her face, and those legs—the very same legs that had already gotten him in trouble yet again tonight. But now he was just thinking in circles. This was unproductive. Consciously he forced his hands to unclench.

“Is something wrong Heero?” That deceptively sweet tone made him want to open this car door, roll into the fall and take off into the woods. That might be a preferable pain than an entire night of fighting against either embarrassing himself or both of them by doing something drastic. Hormones were a terrible radical variable.

“No.” It was half grunt, and completely forced from between his teeth. Already his hand was around the handle of the car door. The locks went down and his angry glance caught Trowa’s in the mirror. The whole world seemed to be out to get him tonight. The smirk Trowa wore on his face made Heero’s anger, already rising, almost unbearable now. Frustration, irritation, helpless rage. . . and desire. No way to escape. This evening was hell. He had died and this was hell. It was the only answer.

The car pulled up to the entrance and the doors unlocked. Heero got out and opened the door for Relena. Even just her hand on his sent tremors through his body, urgently screaming at him to touch more than her hand. He ignored them.

Relena gave Heero an adorable smile. “Shall we go on?” He simply nodded, eyes almost crossing as she took a deep breath before they walked in.

*

*

*

To say that people were shocked was an understatement. Her favorite moments of the evening were when she held discussions with diplomats she had known for years and it took them some time before they realized it was her. The transition from confusion to shock was better entertainment than the dry technical subjects they canvassed in an attempt to have meaningful small talk. Dorothy, when she arrived with Quatre, gave Relena a small nod and left her to her own devices. They both had jobs to do at this gathering, and sadly they would mostly likely not find much time to be able to talk to one another beyond a simple courtesy greeting.

After a couple of hours, once she had met with all the most important people, Relena allowed herself some time to breathe. It was odd, really, because usually Heero brought her some water and forced her to stop being so active before she wore herself out prematurely (he had learned he needed to do this after she fainted three hours into one evening of “relaxed” socializing). Forcing herself to make polite excuses to the elderly man who she was sure was speaking to her chest and not her as she talked, Relena went to get water. That’s what she told herself and the old Duke as well, but she was really searching for a certain bodyguard who was making himself scarce.

The punch was easy to find. It was both spiked and watered down giving it a faint twang that didn’t please her so much, but she sipped at it anyway to relieve her dry throat before it got sore. A middle aged woman lifted an eyebrow in her direction and Relena got the distinct feeling she was being judged. The unpleasantness of being disapproved of passed and she thrilled in the fact that she was acting so out of character. It was like playing a part, and this was fun. There was no reason to be intimidated when she had done this specifically to turn heads. The matron was graced with a dazzling smile from the object of her disdain, and Relena turned around to come face to face with a colony representative who must have arrived late. He was fairly new, and he was young and decently good looking, but what inclined Relena not to think kindly of him at the moment was that there was no other way to describe his facial expression besides ‘leering’.

“Minister Darlian, I must say you look especially lovely this evening.” He grabbed her arm and she only pulled away a little. Sadly, the diplomat inside of her was thrilled and calculating a way to turn this to her advantage. His colony had been somewhat prickly as of late and any goodwill she could generate would make the next few months of policy debate much less headache inducing. Even so, it was only reluctantly she allowed herself be pulled aside.

“Representative Weiss, I’m so very happy that you think so. I’m surprised you recognized me so readily, some people have had a hard time this evening doing so.” She massaged his ego and could practically see it expand before her.

“I could recognize you anywhere, Miss Darlian. May I call you Relena?”

Her eyelid only twitched a little. He moved quickly didn’t he, came the sardonic thought. “I’m afraid I barely know you, Mr. Weiss.” The young man feigned displeasure. “Maybe in a few years. . .” She tried to say it flirtatiously, to take the edge off, but she had never done anything flirtatiously and wasn’t sure she was doing it right. This was starting to feel less and less like an opportunity so much as a chore. Catching sight of a golden blond head, she found salvation. “I’m afraid I must leave you, I was on my way to speak to Mr. Winner when you caught me. Good evening.” Weiss let go of her hand, finally, with a slight frown, and Relena made her escape to Quatre.

“Quatre!” She gave the ex-Gundam pilot a hug. Dorothy had been right, he was definitely a little squishier than had been when they were a few years younger. Then again, she was probably just as changed. Best not to think of such things when wearing a dress like this.

“Relena! Dorothy said she was going to help you get ready tonight, and I can see that she hasn’t lost her flair for the dramatic. However, did she convince you to do it?”

“You may not believe this, but I asked her.” A glint of mischief touched Relena’s eyes as she brushed at her hair.

“Far be it for me to doubt our noble Vice Foreign Minister’s veracity.” Quatre seemed to think a moment and then gave a small laugh. “So did he say anything?” The low tone, the wink, and Relena realized Quatre was talking about Heero. Her eyes went wide and she tried force herself to act cool.

“Whatever can you mean?” Quatre just let one eyebrow rise as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh very well, I can never bluff with you Gundam pilots. HE has not said anything. In fact I cannot find HIM since we entered. I don’t think HE even noticed.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong. Why don’t you go ask him?” Quatre pointed to a shady corner where dark drapes converged. A form moved slightly, and Heero materialized from the shadows, aware that Quatre had pointed out his hiding place. “He’ll run off and hide again if you don’t catch him now.”

“Thank you, Quatre, trust you to still have the skill to find Heero in a crowded ballroom. I think I have the courage to go talk to him now.” She gave Quatre’s hand a quick squeeze and then moved at a brisk pace towards Heero. He saw he coming, but made no attempt to escape. That would have been even more suspicious than his behavior had already been tonight. Darn Quatre.

As Relena made her way towards him, his heart-rate began to speed up. What could she want? Was she mad? He ran through several scenarios in his head. All of them ended with a big unfocused question mark. There was nothing she could have to say to him. This was probably just an attempt to inquire about why he had not been around much this evening. He had excuses prepared. This was under his control. She arrived in front of him, half of her face illuminated by the lamp several feet away. Her deep crimson lips pressed together and then parted, only to devastate his easy confidence with the question:

“Would you like to see the garden with me? I was going out there anyway, and I know you would be obliged to follow me, but it’s much nicer if we go together. The other way is a little odd.”

“I haven’t prepared security checks for the garden.”

“When has that stopped me? I’m going whether you approve or not. I’ll find someone else to go with me if— ”

“I’ll go.” He bit it out. This was bad, but he couldn’t find a reason why he thought it was such an alarming prospect. It was just Relena and him, no one else, so there couldn’t be any problems, right? The skeptic in him gave a loud mental snort.

*

*

*

“It’s somewhat cold out tonight, isn’t it?” Relena rubbed her arms and a breeze raised the hairs on her arms.

“I guess.” One hand on the gun in his jacket, Heero was ready for anything. The deeper they went into the garden, the less secure he felt, for a number of reasons. Why was she doing this to him?

“Heero,” Her arm slipped into his own, and he found he was actually surprised by the action. He had been concentrating so hard on ignoring her, that he had apparently succeeded. “Walk with me, not behind me.”

They continued on like this. Relena, trying to get his attention and hold it, and Heero attempting to dodge her attempts at conversation and making sure not to let his mind wander to her presence too often. It was a frustrating time for both of them, and both were getting close to their breaking point.

Fortunately, depending on your view of the situation, Relena tripped.

It might have been preventable, but then she was in thin heels and they were walking on a cobbled path. Her ankle gave way, sending her pitching forward, only to hitch her arm on Heero’s and swinging in an arch into his arms instead of onto the ground.

This was more than a bodyguard, than any man really, should have been expected to bear. That dress, which hugged her body like a second skin, didn’t cover the part of her back that he clutched and she would surely feel how warm and sweaty his palms were. What was even worse was the way her leg had moved up and forward to rub against the outside of his upper thigh. Oh God, she even smelled like vanilla. He pushed her away quickly, but she had surely noticed, and oh lord she was smiling. They had been pressed so close together and after an evening of hiding it well enough, there was no way she could have missed the very obvious evidence of his attraction when that close to him. Now all she needed to do was start laughing and this evening would be complete.

Gingerly, she approached him, expecting him to bolt like a wild animal. Instead, he looked straight forward, disassociating himself from the whole ordeal, waiting for a release from this moment and back to a place where he could pretend it had never happened.

“Heero, look at me.” Her hand was cold on his cheek. His eyes burned with an inner shame, but there was no laughter in her own. Slowly, her mouth approached his and her eyes closed. It would have been easy to back away or to halt her movement, but in a flash of selfishness he allowed something he had sworn he would never do happen.

His head came down to meet her halfway, eyes open, as they kissed. It was nice at first, but then it wasn’t enough. He was greedy for her: her warmth, her taste, everything, and he took it. Biting at her lips he began to move down to that long, white neck and then her shoulders while his hands moved over her back and hips before settling on her backside and pulling her body up against his own. Relena responded with little moans, entwining her leg with his and slowly rocking her hips forward. Unfortunately, Heero couldn’t allow this lapse of judgment indefinitely.

With a deep indrawn breath he pulled away from her neck, already turning red where he had bitten at it a bit too hard. “We have to stop.” He nearly choked as her moist lips brushed his earlobe.

“Why?” Unwilling to relinquish the moment, Relena probed the sensitive cords of muscle on his neck with her tongue, purring with pleasure as his hands moved over her thighs in a rough kneading motion Heero was only half aware he was doing.

“Because. . .” Was all his strangled logic could manage. Relena gave a sigh, and after a soft parting kiss to his neck, she pulled back. She was cruel but not ruthless, and the raw panic he was giving off in waves was not exactly encouraging.

As she pulled away entirely, she found that she had to turn away from him. Even if it wasn’t rejection exactly, it was still yet another delay—another roadblock that he put in place to prevent them from being together. Something inside of her felt like it was dying. She had not thought of tonight as a last attempt for anything, whether affection or merely attention, but the constant jerking around of her emotions by this man had simply left her tired. There was only a little while left before it would be courteous to leave the party, but as soon as she could manage it, she was going home. Tonight was no longer fun. Sleep, as a refuge from thinking about her waking life, seemed so tempting. Carefully, Relena schooled her expression to something impassive.

“I just want to finish my tour of the garden and then we can go back.” Her tone was flat. “Is that fine with you?” She took his silence for a yes.

For another few minutes she examined leaves and buds with great interest, and did not say a single word to Heero. She made her way back into the ballroom and then back towards the bathroom. He followed and then waited for her outside. As she emerged, again immaculate with hair rearranged from its previously disheveled state and lipstick reapplied, he couldn’t help but note a complete reversal in her demeanor. Before there had been something daring, something challenging, but now she appeared to be so remote and regal. The air around her was practically frigid. With a lofty nod, she finally acknowledged his presence and then continued to socialize. Heero stationed himself against the wall again.

All he could figure out was that somehow he had made a grave mistake. The way she had reacted to him made him inclined to think that it was not his aggressive perusal of her after she had initiated contact. That meant that he had screwed up by stopping them. There had been several reasons for that, some of them location and time related, but on closer inspection he was willing to admit to himself that he had stopped because he had wanted it too much. Somehow being given the thing he had coveted and set aside as unacceptable wild fantasy, a mix of business and pleasure dangerous to them both, frightened him with the strength of his reaction.

Or perhaps ready capitulation, considering how you looked at it.

However the more he tried to analyze it, the more he started to feel like a fool.

“Rough night?” Quatre’s amused tone only made Heero feel surlier.

“I guess.”

“Relena seems to be unwell. I think I just heard her tell Representative Weiss that she had a headache, though whether she was implying that it had existed previously or if he was the one giving it to her, I wasn’t listening close enough to catch.” Quatre’s toned was baited, clearly, as he tried to get Heero to react.

“I’ll have the car pulled around.” Heero stood up from his slumped position and started to walk away.

“Oh Heero,” Quatre called in a low voice before Heero could get much further away. “Before you do that you might want to get that lipstick off your neck. I like red, but that shade just doesn’t suit you.” Heero clapped one hand on his neck and walked faster away from his chuckling friend.

*

*

*

The atmosphere in the car on the way back was charged, but for a different reason than the ride over had been. Relena sat perfectly stiff, eyes forward, unmoving. Heero tried not to be conscious of her, but it was a nearly impossible task. Nervously, one leg bounced with little movements. It would be better if she yelled at him, hit him, cried, anything. This uneasy calm was terrible in its consistency.

Gracefully she rose from her seat in the car, declining his offered hand. He escorted her to her room as she glided through the entranceway and up the stairs like some ethereal creature. Stretched to the limit of his patience for this, as they halted before her door and before she bid him good night, he grabbed her by the shoulders. Relena gave him a look of horror as she took in the confusion, the concern, the anger that all played across his eyes but did not touch his face otherwise.

“Talk to me.” His glare bore into her own indignant one.

“I have nothing to say to you, unless you have something you want to tell me then I am going to change and go to sleep.” She made no attempt to struggle against the painful grip he had on her arms. “Now release me.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me scream for help Heero. I don’t want to see you disciplined for this.” Her concern was honest, even if she was angry at him still.

“This isn’t ending like this.” He didn’t seem to be addressing her so much as reassuring himself.

“What isn’t?”

“Tonight. This month. Everything.” His fingers unwound from the punishing grip they had had on her arms. Instead they leapt to his hair. “Dammit Relena, you know I was never any good at this sort of thing.”

“What sort of thing?” Her heart gave a little leap and she squashed it.

“Personal things. I don’t know. . . us?” The way he had said ‘us’ brought hope back to life in her heart and Relena could feel tears burning at the rims of her eyes. Strangely, she found herself giving a clipped laugh.

“You’re right, Heero. You aren’t any good at it.” The humor died and her voice became serious. “Are you going to try to get better?”

He just stared at her with the usual blank expression and she was afraid for a moment that he would just leave her like that: waiting as she always had for him. Instead, he brought forward a hand and wound it in her hair, making her scalp feel oddly cool where his palm spread out. Slowly, deliberately, he kissed her. The pressure that he exerted and then lessened on her already swollen and somewhat bruised lips betrayed the passion he was purposefully keeping in check. When he pulled back, Relena felt only half conscious, as if maybe she had already fallen asleep.

“Could ‘us’ work?” She had to ask. The kiss had been nice, but for once she wasn’t going to allow ambiguities in a negotiation as important as this one was to her.

“I’ll make it work.” It was the same tone he used when he accepted any other sort of mission, and Relena had faith in his conviction.