Missing by a Mile

By the Black Rose

Chapter 21

Duo jumped to his feet and filed in behind Trowa and Relena as they left Peacecraft Manor for the daily commute to the office. His jovial whistle echoed through the marble halls of the foyer, serving as an informal fanfare for their small procession.

Maxwell caught one of the large oak doors, squinting at the bright morning sun glinting off the hood of the Vice Foreign Minister’s car while his companions went on ahead. He lifted a boot-clad foot to step over the threshold, but an iron fist on the back of his Preventers jacket halted his progress and reeled him back in.

“I’m going.”

“Heero?” Duo blinked at his fellow bodyguard, noting the deep, dark circles under the other man’s eyes, complemented by his unshaven features and wrinkled clothes. “Man, you’ve got to be kidding. You’ve been on duty for like twelve hours already. Trowa and I will go to the office for the day – you go get some sleep.”

Heero scowled and pushed passed his friend. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“Oooookay,” Duo mumbled. “Hey, Heero?” He watched the other Preventer storm out the door after Trowa and Relena, and then slide into the back of the waiting car. Duo sighed and shook his head. “That’s going to be one happy car ride.”

The sound of Pagan leaving the kitchen perked up his expression as he watched the limo pull away. “Huh, well maybe I can score some leftover pancakes,” he thought with a wicked grin.

* * * * * *

Heero climbed into the backseat of the car, planting himself right next to Relena. Trowa sat on the other side of their charge - entirely too close to her than Heero deemed necessary. He shot a menacing glare at the other man when Relena reached down to pick up her briefcase, but his concentration wavered when her hand brushed against her ‘fiancé’s’ leg. He felt a twinge of…something grab hold, and his eyes darted down to where she was straining to pull out some needed paperwork while still held in the confines of her seatbelt.

Heero leaned forward and grabbed up the briefcase, his fingers grazing her hand in the process. She blushed as he handed it to her, then watched as she steadied it on her lap. She never looked up, but politely thanked him.

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, his eyes studying her face for some hint…some hope. Her eyes flitted up to meet his steady gaze.

“Yes?” She asked, her complexion still appearing flushed. From what, Heero couldn’t guess, but her eyes…they were guarded, completely unlike the other night on their date. And angry – still angry at him, from something other than having destroyed her bedroom door. Trowa said it was because I didn’t say the L word….

“Heero, is something wrong?”

He blinked. “No. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

He heard the breath catch in her throat at his statement, before she promptly turned her widened eyes away. “We can talk about that later.”

Her tone had been firm, business-like, but she had said they could talk about it – which was a marked improvement over not being on speaking terms. Just as he was shifting to face forward, he caught Trowa’s amused smirk in his peripheral vision.

Laugh it up, clown-boy. As soon as she’s settled in her office, you’re a dead man.

The car rolled to a gentle stop, and Trowa took the lead, stepping out and then extending a hand to help Relena alight from the vehicle, giving her delicate fingers a friendly squeeze as he did so. Heero didn’t like that she seemed to smile up at the acrobat the same way she used to smile at him. He ground his teeth together as he followed them inside the building. She was chatting easily with the other man, her soft voice reaching his ears as she giggled at some reply Trowa had just made.

You'd better watch it or I’ll have to detonate your mobile suit, Barton. Heero grimaced and tried to amuse himself with plotting to kill the other Preventer.

When the group arrived at her office, Heero made a point of going inside and checking all the windows – to insure the room was secure. Relena didn’t even seem to notice as she was still engrossed in conversation with…the enemy. He growled something about it being “all clear” then watched as the two friends entered the room. Trowa settled himself in one of Heero’s favorite spots – against the windowsill closest to her desk. But Heero had other plans for the newly re-instated bodyguard. He grabbed the back of Trowa’s jacket collar and started towards the door, dragging the acrobat behind him. Relena looked up from her paperwork, raising an eyebrow at the action, but Trowa spoke quickly in Heero’s defense.

“He just needs to go over some security details.”

“Oh.”

The door slammed shut, and Heero launched himself at the taller man. He pinned Trowa against the far wall with his body weight and left forearm, while his right one gripped his gun and held it close to the acrobat’s head.

“You forgot something.”

Deep lines etched themselves in Trowa’s forehead, but on the whole, he appeared unfazed by his ‘situation’ for the moment. He spoke up in his usual unaffected tone. “It was a long time ago.”

Heero inched the barrel closer to the enemy’s temple. “Bull shit. You’re still in love with her, and you’re in this for yourself.”

“You didn’t question my loyalties when you found me in an Oz uniform during the war, what difference is there now?”

“The difference,” Heero spat, “is that you didn’t tell me how you felt about her.”

Trowa shrugged under his fellow bodyguard’s hold. “You haven’t told me how you feel about her, either.”

“You know the answer to that.”

Green eyes flashed from their place beneath the acrobat’s brown hair. “I know the answer, but you don’t seem to. You have your own secrets that I’m not asking you to reveal.”

Heero lowered the gun and turned away.

“You asked me to find out what she wants, and I’ve already done that.”

“Hn.”

Trowa reclined against the wall and crossed his arms. “If you want to get a good start on making things up to her…she wants to go dancing.”

“Dancing?” The former Zero pilot croaked.

“Swing dancing.”

Heero’s eyes almost seemed to disappear into the back of his head. “This again? What happened to your ‘candy and flowers’ suggestion?”

The “teacher” pointed a chiding finger at his student. “I told you it will take more than candy and flowers. Swing dancing is more,” he reasoned.

“I’ll take my chances with the local florist.”

Trowa stood up and started back towards Relena’s office. “It’s your sexual gratification on the line. Do what you want.”

Heero threw an arm across the doorway, staring daggers up at the taller man. “Hn. I will, but you won’t.”

“Believe me, if I had the chance, I’d take it – but I never have.” Trowa bowed his head, letting his grip on the doorknob slacken. “For five years, I lived in your shadow – it’s time you became something more than an obscure dream to her.”

Heero swallowed hard in the seconds of awkward silence stretching between the two of them. “I don’t…”

“You’re right Heero, you don’t,” Trowa said, pushing the other man’s arm aside and opening Relena’s door. “You just don’t.”

* * * * * *

If someone could drown in flowers, the amount in Relena’s office would have done the job. There were so many….

Orange blossoms on the conference table, long stem red roses on her desk, orchids on her credenza; she couldn’t get any work done with their pleasant fragrance and cheerful color distracting her, commanding her thoughts towards the man whom had sent them. “Well, he’s nothing if not determined,” she said with a wry smile.

“Heero’s outdone himself,” Trowa said with a slight smirk, examining and arrangement of orchids on the windowsill.

The young woman seated at the desk was doing her best to look disinterested, forcing her attention to the proposals in front of her. “Yes, I suppose.”

Trowa crossed the room, stopping when he finally stood before her. “Most women would be flattered, Relena.”

She swept pale blond locks out of her eyes, and looked up at him, resting a chin in her upturned palm. “Yes, well, most women aren’t in love with the world’s most stubborn male.”

“He’s obviously trying to show affection,” Trowa said, gesturing towards the vase of roses.

Relena’s gaze lingered on the flowers. “Hn…”

“Or trying to get himself out of the dog house,” her bodyguard offered.

“B – trying to get himself out of the dog house,” she replied.

Trowa raised an eyebrow in a questioning slant. Relena could feel the blood rise to her cheeks as she looked away. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.

He leaned across the desk’s polished surface. She couldn’t avoid his eyes for long, and found herself on the receiving end of a sorely missed, no-nonsense stare from her long-time friend.

“It’s not nothing if he’s in so deep he’s turned your office into a small rain forest.”

She couldn’t stop the hint of a smile that chewed at her lips. But the sentiment was pushed aside by her more rational thoughts. “Yes, well, it’s easy to call a florist and give them a credit card number. But you know that’s not what I want.”

Trowa nodded. “Yes, women like to make men’s lives difficult.”

“Humph.” She sniffed, capping her pen and stacking some files. “You’d better watch it, Barton, or you’ll be sharing that dog house with Heero.”

“No thanks,” he laughed, offering her a hand. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Relena answered, rising to her feet and smoothing her suit jacket. “Where’s Duo? Or is Heero going to be my second guard for the trip home?”

“Duo’s in the car,” Trowa answered.

Relena nodded. “All right, I’ll just grab my briefcase…What should I do with all these flowers?”

“Keep them here, you may need them to cheer you up in the morning,” Trowa said, closing the office door behind them.

Relena threw him a quizzical glance as the diplomat and her body guard shuffled through the hallway. “Why is that?”

“Well, depending how your date goes….”

“Date?” she cut in, stopping in her tracks. “I didn’t know I had a date tonight.”

“Hn,” Trowa breathed out. “Well, your not-quite-secret admirer, I believe, is taking you out.”

Her free hand flew to her hip. “Taking me out or kidnapping me? Because I don’t remember being asked.”

Trowa’s palm came to rest on the small of her back, gently forcing her to resume their trek to the car. “Relena, you play the part well, but you know you won’t say no.”

“I could…” She protested. “I probably should….”

“You won’t.” He continued ushering her into the dense evening air. “But at least you’re making him work for it.” The Preventer opened the limo’s heavy door, waiting for her to slip inside.

“Yes, well, it’s not easy making men’s lives difficult, you know. It takes practice,” she grinned.

Trowa scowled. “Funny.”

“I thought so.”

“Get in the car…”

“Sure,” she conceded, obeying the command. “One question though. Usually, when there’s a threat, you guys are….”

“Princess! You’re looking lovely today,” A familiar voice rang out from the front seat.

“Thank you, Duo,” Relena said, smiling weakly at the braided guard. “I feel like a frazzled bundle of nerves.”

“Ready for your big date?” Cobalt eyes sparkled in her direction.

“Why does everyone else know about this date but me?” Relena huffed.

The man in the front scratched his head. “Erm…uh, would you believe men’s intuition?” He quickly turned around.

Relena’s eyes narrowed and she sank back into the limo’s plush interior. Ha. We’ll see who’s going on a date…

* * * * * *
“Yes, just put them on my tab,” Heero barked into the mouthpiece of the phone. “Hn.” He hung up the cell and headed out the front door of his apartment. He plopped into the driver’s seat of his car, glowering at the steering wheel as if it was to blame for the fact he was having to take Relena dancing (a ‘pastime’ he had always abhorred). He put the car in gear and started the fairly short drive to his date’s home, trying desperately not to think about the ‘dancing’ thing too much.

“If Trowa’s putting together a zoot suit and wingtips, he’s in for a thorough beating,” Heero muttered, remembering his friend’s offer to collect the appropriate attire – so the evening could be a surprise for the former queen. His shoulders slumped as he sorted through his memories, attempting to recall the basic steps he had been taught – trying not to remember the training sessions that came along with the recollection.

The white haired scientist flexed the iron claw that served as a hand, towering over his young apprentice. “Heero, you need to fit in, in any formal situation. That means learning how to dance.”

The boy shook his head. “No.”

“You will learn all traditional dances, and a few more modern styles,” The old man insisted. “You never know when the skill might be necessary.”

Heero straightened his shoulders. “I don’t need to dance to hit my target.”

“At times, you will, my boy. Now, arms up.” Dr. J stepped forward but the pupil skillfully dodged his advancing mentor.

“I am not dancing with you old man.”

Shoulders shrugged under the white lab coat. “I’ll let you lead.”

“No.”

“Do you want to eat?” The man growled. “There are ways of making you comply. Don’t make me get nasty, boy.”

“Fine.” Heero walked forward and held up his arms, cringing as the doctor clasped his hand.

“All right. Now, one two three four, one two three four, step two three four one two three four.” The mad scientist counted out the time as Heero easily led them into a phantom waltz.

“It’s probably best he didn’t train me in the art of dating,” Heero mumbled and pulled his car into the front driveway. “Then again, I don’t think dating is usually considered a hostile situation. Maybe it should be…” He stepped out and started towards the door, but didn’t make it very far before a voice sounded from the side of the house. He pulled his gun and moved in that direction.

“Ah, it is you, Master Yuy.” Pagan addressed him from his kneeling position on the sidewalk. The elderly butler had a scrub brush in one hand and was hard at work scouring a rather interesting, colorful mound off the concrete. “Just the man with which I’d been meaning to speak.”

“What do you want?” Heero asked, quickly checking his watch. The mission was still proceeding according to schedule.

“In the future, I’d like to firmly request that you not send Miss Relena chocolate truffles in the middle of summer,” the older man continued. “They tend to, quite obviously, melt.”

Heero glanced down at the sticky substance Pagan was now diligently scraping, then his eyes traveled up to Relena’s balcony window. The trajectory of the chocolates would have been…

“And I’d just leave it here, but the ants and pests will move in, and we just can’t have that,” Pagan huffed out, attacking the mess once again. “Though I will say the chrysanthemums were a nice touch, and their petals stick quite well in the chocolate.”

“Hn.” Heero clenched his jaw, finally identifying the fine blanket of delicate red and white petals covering the sidewalk and nearby lawn.

“Hard candies, Master Yuy,” the butler threatened. “Or I’ll never again let you in this house. You’ll have to stand guard on her balcony in pouring down rain and all sorts of other nasty elements!”

Heero had to work to keep the smirk off his face. He spun on his heel and stomped off in the direction of the front door, his evident displeasure festering around the fact she had tossed his gifts out the window – not at the idea of standing guard on her balcony. It was now his preferred place to be, second only to a cozy spot in her bed.

He gritted his teeth and opened the door. She was going to speak to him, and she was going to let him take her dancing. And she was going to marry him, whether she liked it or not.

* * * * * *

Heero again stole a peek at his wrist watch. The dance lessons started at 1830, and even though he had been most unfortunately trained for an evening of swing dancing, he had no idea if Relena had ever been or knew how. He took the stairs two at a time, fully refreshed after a six hour nap – despite the enticing dreams of Relena that still somehow plagued him. “Is she ready?”

Trowa moved from his post in the hallway, walking over to his friend. “Should she be ready?”

Heero crossed his arms and glared at the other man. “You told me she wanted me to take her dancing.”

The taller Preventer shook his head. “No, I told you she wanted to go dancing. All that means is if you offer to take her dancing, you have more of a chance of her accepting a date with you and less of a chance that she’ll slam her new door in your face.”

He stared at Trowa for a long moment and stifled the growl rumbling in his throat. “Did you make the arrangements?”

“Mission preparation checklist complete,” The acrobat nodded, starting down the stairs back to the first floor. Heero fell in beside him.

“Where are the essential supplies?”

“They’re in a bag in the back cupboard of Zechs’s office.”

They paused at the entrance to the elder Peacecraft’s work area. Heero froze as he was about to open the door. He turned and settled a deadly look on his co-conspirator. “Swear to me there is no zoot suit or wingtips in that bag.”

Trowa’s hard-set expression never wavered. “Confirmed.”

“There’d better not be,” Heero warned, searching for the light switch once they stepped inside.

“Give me a break,” Trowa snorted. “If she asked you to wear nothing but high heels and a bow tie in order to go to bed with her you would.”

Heero glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, Barton.”

“Yeah, I admit it. If Relena asked me to wear high heels and a bow tie to sleep with her I would.”

“Not what I meant,” the shorter man snapped. “And I could have lived without that mental image.”

“It’s not one of my favorites, either.”

Heero pulled aside the cupboard door and blinked at the sight of a computer monitor and tower stacked upon the shelves. It hummed like it was running; the hard drive light winked its green eye at the Preventer. He squinted over his shoulder at Trowa. “Surveillance equipment?”

“I assumed it was an extra precautionary measure. Zechs is over protective and beyond thorough.”

“True,” Heero agreed. “Just wasn’t aware there was any of this equipment outside of the control room.”

The computer whirred and the CD drive slid open, revealing a CD-Rom with the label 08-06-203. A window popped up on the desktop announcing: “Burn complete. Click OK to continue.”

Cold blue eyes examined the disc. “Looks like it burns a record of something every day.”

“It may just be for this office,” Trowa said, speaking his thoughts out loud.

Heero nodded and grabbed the large sack. It was oddly shaped and bulky, but fairly light weight. “She’s throwing my gifts out the window. I may not know much, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a good indication she wants to go dancing with me.”

Trowa smirked. “Then I guess you’ll have to convince her.”

* * * * * *

Relena folded down the corner of the current page in her book and looked up to glare at the door. She got the distinct impression none of her guards was actually outside it, which did not sit well with their insistence her office had been receiving threats.

“If he thinks I’m going out with him again, he’s got another thing coming.” Relena mused with an ardent shake of her head. “I will not subject myself to that sort of heartbreak again. I don’t know which is worse, his usual efforts to ignore me, or the idea he just wants to sleep with me. Men. Maybe that’s why so many women are behind the Mars Terraforming project – so we can send them all back to where they came from!”

A knock sounded at her door, startling her from her thoughts. Pagan’s voice rumbled a bit as he spoke from the other side. “Ahem. Miss Relena?”

The Vice Foreign Minister took a deep breath, sitting up straight in an attempt to collect herself. “Yes, Pagan.”

“Master Yuy is here to see you – off duty.”

Relena groaned and collapsed back into the pillows. “Don’t send him up.”

“I beg your pardon Miss Relena,” Pagan answered,” But I’m afraid he’s just behind me.”

“That’s all right Pagan,” Relena sighed, languidly finding her feet. “Tell him I’ll be out in a second.”

“Will do.”

I am not going to let him do this to me again. She laid the book down on her comforter and tiptoed to the sliding balcony door. Relena eased it open a crack – just enough for her to fit through – and with a quick glance over her shoulder, slipped outside. She tried to grip the glass enough to slide it back, but couldn’t shut it all the way. It didn’t matter. With any luck, she would be long gone by the time he gave up waiting on her. A slight smile curled her lips. The reserved, respectable diplomat still had at least one trick up her sleeve.

The former queen grabbed onto the railing and climbed over. One hand reached to grip the small ledge she knew by heart. I could do this with my eyes closed. She held her weight on one hand while her feet still stood firmly on the slab of concrete jutting out just beyond the small series of iron bars. Relena grabbed onto another ledge, her fingers holding all of her body weight as she fit the toes of her shoes into grooves within the bricks at the same time. With a practiced ease, she climbed down to the ground – and promptly took off running towards the back of the house.

He doesn’t know I have one, much less where I keep it. She sprinted around the side of the garage and took a hairpin turn to the left down a mostly dirt covered path, though weeds and grass had begun to invade the short trail that seemed to dead-end at a large storage shed. Relena slowed her pace as she approached the small building. Beads of sweat formed tears that dripped down her face and lingered on her chin. She wiped them away, then set to work putting in the combination to the padlock securing the door. The small piece of metal clicked and fell to the ground, and she bent down and picked it up, latching it onto the handle as she swung the barrier wide to reveal….

Her fully-restored 1969 Mustang Boss 429, repainted its original Acapulco Blue. Duo and her brother had worked on it for over a year to get it in its pristine shape, and had completely shocked her when they gave it to her as a gift for her 21st birthday. The hood over the front right headlight caught in the sunlight, while the rest remained draped in shadows. She stepped inside its air conditioned storage facility.

“You call it Wing?” A voice called out from the obscure corner of the room. She flipped the light switch on the wall, and a gasp caught in her throat. He stood there, leaning against the back of her car, arms folded and hair hiding his eyes as usual.

“I…What?” She shook her head and stared at him. How did he beat me here? He wasn’t even supposed to know…

“The license plate. You named your car Wing?” He repeated, pointing to the rear fender.

Relena’s eyes followed his movements, but his words still failed to register. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

He moved from his place in the shadows and came to stand beside her. “I thought I was taking you on a date.”

She turned to face him, her fingers drumming on the car’s polished rooftop. “Well, you’re awfully presumptuous.”

Heero maintained his rigid stance. “Apparently.”

Relena wagged a manicured finger at him. “Usually, a man asks a woman before he just assumes he’s taking her on a date.”

Heero reached up and caught her hand, his face seeming to light up at the contact. “Usually, the woman doesn’t run away before he can ask.”

“Oh? Isn’t it your goal to chase her away? Or is it everyone in general?”

His grip tightened and he pulled her closer. “No, I don’t want to chase her away. I want her to go dancing with me.”

“Dancing?” Relena let her body go limp and he finally relinquished his hold. She leaned in and intently studied the man before her. “Who are you and what have you done with Heero Yuy?”

“Nothing, yet,” her companion answered. “But the gundam pilot gets it if you don’t cooperate.”

“Ah, that’s better,” Relena smiled. “This is the Heero I know – always handing out empty threats.”

Heero frowned. “Hn.”

His expression quickly changed, though, when his eyes moved passed hers and finally roved over the garage’s larger contents. “Nice car”

“Yes, it is,” Relena agreed, running a hand over the hood. “My brother and Duo worked on restoring it.”

“So why the name Wing?” Heero questioned. “Why not Epyon or…”

“Of all of them,” Relena explained. “I figured Wing at least liked me.”

Heero raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“It didn’t let you kill me at the St. Gabriel’s party,” she answered, leaving his side and walking towards the exit. The golden rays of the late afternoon sun warmed her skin as she stood in the doorway. “You said it was a malfunction when I caught up with you. I think it just liked me.”

“Hn.” Relena heard him reply. She shrugged and began walking. He could stay in the storage shed…

“Where are you going?”

She stopped. “Back to the house. To my room.”

“But we have a date.”

Relena didn’t even bother to look back. “No, we don’t.” She took a step forward.

“I have reservations at Club Swing,” Heero called out; his voice grew closer, and she turned around to see him standing just outside the door.

“Lessons start at 1830. We don’t have time to argue.” He took her arm, pulling her back into the building. Her jaw was still hanging open by the time they reached the car. “You actually made reservations at Club Swing? Why?”

Heero frowned. “To take you dancing, Relena. I thought it was something you wanted to do.”

“You thought it was something I wanted to do?” She blinked and looked over his hardened features. “But that’s very…sweet, and thoughtful of you, Heero.”

“I wanted to apologize for the other night,” he said, his expression softening. “I didn’t intend to hurt you.”

Her heart plummeted into her stomach, despite her best efforts to keep it in check. All her previous rationalizations came to mind – excuses she had granted him in half her heart, while the other half wallowed in doubt. “I…I’m sure you didn’t. It’s probably a word you’re not used to hearing very much, is it?”

He shook his head slowly from one side to the other – dropping his face just enough to lower his unruly bangs like a protective shield over his eyes. He’s still hiding from me. “All right, well, let’s get going so we won’t be late.” She turned and started out the door again, but his hand on her wrist stopped her short. “Heero?” She questioned as he spun her back around.

“We’ll take this car. I’m driving.”

“Oh?” She could have sworn she caught the faintest glimpse of a grin cross his mouth.

“There’s not enough time,” he insisted, opening the door for her.

“You just want to drive my car.”

He arched an eyebrow, and Relena sighed. She slid into the passenger’s seat and gave him her best stern look. “You put one dent in this car, Yuy, and I’ll kill you.”

He smirked and turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life beneath them, echoing loudly off the walls of the metal building.

* * * * * *

Heero regarded Relena out of the corner of his eye, noticing how she gripped the handle on the door with red and white knuckles. Perhaps he had taken that corner a bit too sharply. “It handles better than the original.”

“Than your gundam?” she asked, turning her face to the slightly opened window and letting the evening air kiss her cheeks.

Heero nodded. Relena rolled her eyes. “I would hope so. I had also hoped you wouldn’t be as addicted to cars as Duo and Milliardo.”

“They’re machines,” Heero said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road while the car picked up speed. “They make sense.”

“As opposed to humans which do not?” Relena questioned over the bellow of the wind, raising a hand to collect the loose strands that haphazardly whipped around her face. The fragrance of her hair traveled over to the driver, as if trying to distract him from their conversation.

He inhaled deeply, forcing his mind to work. “Hn. That’s not what I said.”

“You implied it,” Relena observed in her calm, diplomatic tone. Heero hated it when she used that tone with him. “Humans are logical, to an extent, until emotions get the better of them.”

“It is a weakness.” The former Zero pilot had intended the statement as a simple observation, but as his ears were met with nothing other than the sounds of rushing air and the car’s growling engine, he began to wonder if the woman beside him had taken it differently. He turned his head just long enough to catch the skeptical glint in her eyes, but her voice was soft when it reached his ears.

“That’s not what Trowa told me. He told me you said during the war that to live a good life, you must act on your emotions.”

“Hn. Old advice,” he answered. “I once thought it would help me live… and die, without regret.”

“It’s true,” Relena agreed, twisting in his direction and placing her cheek on the corner of the seat’s headrest. “Too many times, people have regrets….I regret most that I didn’t tell my father I loved him before he died. What do you regret, Heero?”

“Killing that little girl.” The words spilled out before he could stop them. A cold wave washed over him from the inside out, bringing flashes of the chilling memory nearer to the surface than they had been in a very long time.

Relena gasped. “What happened?”

He locked his gaze on the car in front of them, signaling to turn as they slowed down. “It’s not something I want to talk about.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you, that you don’t tell me. Why?” Her hand came up to rest heavily on his shoulder.

He bowed his head for an instant when they reached a stop sign, concentrating his attention on the steering wheel. “I don’t tell anyone, Relena.”

“You can’t keep this bottled up forever.” She smoothed her palm down the length of his arm before returning it to her lap. He found himself strangely missing her touch.

“I know….” Heero punched the gas and sped through the intersection to make the tail end of the light. He swung into the first available parking place situated along the farthest row of spaces from the club, and turned off the car. He closed his eyes for a few moments, listening as she shifted in her seat. Surmising that this particular exchange of words was over, Heero reached for the door latch, but let his grasp slip when she gently tugged his other hand off the wheel. Relena looked over at him with a gentle grin, and laced her fingers with his. Heero felt his muscles tense. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. What was she expecting? His life story? He had never really spoken to another person about those years, never let anyone in. What would she think of him if she knew…

“And when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here for you,” she said, tightening her grip. “I always have been, you know. As long as it takes, Heero. I’ll always be willing to listen.”

He stared at their hands intertwined and resting on the fabric of the front bench seat. “I know. You just…” He looked up into those light blue eyes that seemed to be pleading with him for something he didn’t understand.

“Nevermind.” He shrugged and got out, walking around the front of the car to open the door for her.

“I brought some things,” he blurted out when his eyes met hers once again. “They said that people usually dress up, so I confiscated the essentials. They’re in the trunk.”

“You’re full of surprises tonight, Heero.” She gave him a fragile smile that seemed more real than the ones she wore most often.

“Hn.”

He opened the trunk and pulled out the sack. Relena snatched it from his hands and peered inside. She raised her head and stared directly at him. “You stole these clothes from my closet?”

“I… um…”

Her lip trembled into a wide grin. “They’re perfect! I can’t believe you picked these out.” She rummaged through the bag and pulled out a long skirt with several ruffles. Heero frowned; he was not an expert on fashion, but he thought those ridiculous poodle skirts were the requisite clothing for swing dancing. But Relena said it was perfect… He ran a hand through his hair and took the bag back from her. She folded the skirt and a white blouse he didn’t get a good look at over her arm and beamed.

“I can’t wait to see that on you,” she giggled pointing at the sack and smiling up at him with a side-eyed glance that he decided looked extremely sexy. He smirked in reply. There didn’t seem to be much left in the bag, so there couldn’t be one of those horrible polyester knit suits in there. Looked like maybe just a box of shoes in the bottom….

They walked the short distance through the dusty summer parking lot towards the front of the Club Swing building. Relena slipped her free arm through his and leaned a bit on his shoulder. He didn’t mind. She seemed happy; her blue eyes glinted playfully in the sun, making her look even more beautiful than she had two nights ago on their first date. Guess I owe Trowa on this one…

They approached the set of large, smooth black doors on the front of the art deco styled structure. The architecture was angular, the flat roof came to a strange point at either end, giving the impression that the building was really two over-lapping triangles that met in the middle. An excited couple ran passed the two silent companions; their laughter lingered behind reminding Heero this was supposed to be a fun evening for his date, no matter how much he was personally dreading the dancing activity that awaited them inside.

The pair was amusing to observe; the man dressed all in black jogged with one arm attached to a large Stetson perched on his head. The girl shuffled rapidly in a pair of pointy-toed boots under her ruffled skirt. They were obviously anxious that they might be late for the lesson, but Heero’s military clock read they still had a good ten minutes. The doors flew open, and the former Zero pilot stopped dead in his tracks. Music blared from the club’s dark interior, reaching his senses in a foul, ear-splitting sound he had never been able to remotely enjoy.

Country music What the…? He winced at the twangy pitch of the guitar wafting out of the front doors, a man’s voice joining the harangue.

“Cause I’m an Indian Outlaw,
Half Cherokee and Choctaw
My baby she’s a Chippewa,
She’s one of a kind…”

This is not happening…. He took a step back, but felt a tug on his sleeve as if someone was attempting to pull him out of his icy state of shock. He looked down and Relena stood in front of him, trying to pull her reluctant date towards the door.

“Heero, come on, we’ll be late!”

“But Relena, it’s…”

“I ain’t lookin for trouble
We can ride my pony double
Make your little heart bubble
Lord, like a glass of wine.”

He stumbled into the loud, dusky foyer, looking over his shoulder and watching the doors slam behind him like a prison sentence. His eyes darted about wildly. Swing dancing, he was prepared for, had been rather unfortunately trained for. Country and western dancing…. Warning lights blared in his brain. The mission was… what was it? There weren’t words. Something had gone horribly wrong. This whole situation was like a trip on the Zero System.

Relena must have noticed the open-mouthed gape he was unable to control while he took in their surroundings. “Oh, stop pretending,” she laughed, nudging him farther into the noise until retreat was no longer an option. “You planned this. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

No! No, I didn’t. He wanted to scream. “How would I…” Something nagged at his mind, and he gawked up at the billboard beneath the massive sign blaring the club’s name in white lights. It read: “Country and western dancing every Monday night.”

Heero stifled a groan, noting that Relena had given up on dragging him inside in favor of going in on her own. His chest tightened as she moved further away from his protection. He couldn’t leave her unaccompanied.

“They all gather round my teepee
Late at night trying to catch a peek at me
In nothing but my buffalo briefs
I got em standin in line.”

Buffalo briefs….? It took every ounce of his will power to force himself to follow.

He caught up with her just inside the doors, and handed over the required cover charge to the attendant.

“What’s wrong, Heero?” She called out while they walked towards the restrooms. “We’ve got to hurry if we’re still going to change.”

“But….” He let himself be towed along, bumping into more people in hats and leather vests and… shirts with fringe? It all seemed so surreal to him. Maybe he was still at home, napping, and this was a bad dream. Wake up, Yuy! For the love of God, wake-

“I’ve always wanted to go country dancing!” Relena chattered, weaving her way through the crowd. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“But…” He was trapped, doomed, really. His posture drooped and long sigh escaped his lips as the realization took hold. He was going to have to endure a long night full of his two least favorite things in the whole world – twangy country music and dancing. And Barton knew about this and didn’t say one word. Well, there’s no going back now, he told himself. As long as it makes her happy… He scowled at the room’s other, more jovial occupants and started towards the men’s restroom to change.

“I can’t wait to see you in that hat.” Relena’s singsong voice rang out from somewhere behind him. He blinked. She had to be going mad – first country dancing instead of swing, and she couldn’t honestly expect him to wear a cowboy….

What did she mean by ‘that hat’? His eyes widened and he tore the sides of the bag open, digging out a small white t-shirt, a belt with far too huge a buckle, and pointy toed cowboy boots. Heero swallowed thickly at the last item in the sack, and felt the world shift off kilter beneath his feet.

It hadn’t been a shoe box. Oh no, it was…a very large-brimmed, very western, very real, brown felt Stetson cowboy hat.

Trowa’s going to pay for this…