Final Mission Status
By Mizaya and Zapenstap
They can’t be serious.
But Relena knew they were. She didn’t remember leaving the office, or any tail-end conversation that had passed between herself and Commander Une. Experience and a gift for poise under pressure assured her that she had remained calm and collected even when her heart seemed to crumple inside her chest like a bag imploding from depressurization. She felt light-headed at first as she walked back down the hallway of the Preventer Headquarters, half drunk with visions that swam before her eyes, wishing she could touch the wall or hold onto a rail to steady herself.
The
passing Preventers who smiled at her didn’t even register. She nodded to them out of habit, and moved
in as graceful and straight a line as she could manage, but her thoughts were a
whirlwind. Memories of that man,
William Cole, smiling at her as he sipped on a dry martini and offered her
strawberries to go with her champagne mixed with visions of nuclear
destruction. Radioactive waste,
byproduct from the uranium and
plutonium used in fission, stored in seventeen concrete tubs in Nevada, now in
the hands of a crazy terrorist whose only demand was to marry her.
It was not a global risk, not like a nuclear bomb, but if Cole opened those containers, the western United States would face a medical and
environmental hazard with yet unknown far-reaching consequences.
To
stop him they needed time, and to gain that time Relena needed to be
married. Not only on paper, but also in
seeming reality because she was going to be watched, by a mole in the
Preventers. Relena stopped walking,
putting a hand to her forehead to stop the spinning. The man who would be playing her husband, living in her home, but
still protecting her… Heero Yuy.
He must have known that right from the start there was something about him that drew her near. How could he not, the way she had chased him around the world, worrying about him, about his life, his body, and his heart, despite his telling her to stop, that he wasn’t worth it, that those things were not important to his mission? Something in her cared about Heero in a way she had never cared about anyone, perhaps trying to compensate for the injustice that had been done to him, and she hadn’t even known why, not for the longest time. It was clear to her now that back then Heero had represented a pureness to her in an otherwise shaken world, a strength and natural kindness that would not, could not be compromised. She wanted it. She had wanted to be like that. And somehow that had turned into wanting him, into loving him. But she smothered such feelings, because she knew they were impossible. Over the six years since their first meeting on that deserted beach, Relena had tried to get Heero Yuy out of her mind, allowing her thoughts to wander to him only when she was lonely and desperate and needing to know he was out there just to comfort herself. She always caught herself thinking on him, relying on him, wishing he could be near, despite the fact that they rarely even spoke anymore. He always just showed up when she needed him, silent, unexpressive, smiling at her sometimes, listening if she forced herself to speak, and then departing as abruptly as he came. Deep in her heart, she felt—no, she knew—that for him at least, it was work.
Or
was it? If there was anything more
between them on his side, he had never made any indication of it. She had spent six years loving him while
pretending not to. Now, with this new
mission, she was afraid that he would spend the next six days pretending to
love her when he really didn’t. And if
that was so, could she bear it, or would it break her?
Relena
brushed her hair out of her eyes, walking half-blind now, and flushed when she
bumped into someone. She was so dazed
that she hadn’t even watched where she was going around the corner until her
face had rammed into a man’s chest. Embarrassed, she spoke an apology under her
breath, stepping back from the Preventer uniform, trying not to blush
excessively. He grabbed her wrist,
steadying her, and when she regained her balance enough to look up into his
face—a moment only since their collision—she gasped.
Heero’s
eyes were like a hawk’s, bright and sharp beneath a mass of thick, dark hair
that angled over his face and eyes. He
wore a Preventer’s coat, though he wasn’t strictly a Preventer, the earthy
tones of brown and back complimenting his dark coloring and outlining the set
of his shoulders and slender, toned body.
Relena froze, head jerking back as her eyes widened.
“You
all right?” His tones were earthy too;
deep and dark, not rumbling like thunder, but smooth and solid and strong.
Relena
stepped back, pursing her lips and folding her hands as she met him in the
eyes, hiding her emotions behind a mask oriented toward putting aside her whims
and doing her duty. Taking a deep
breath, she stole away the part of herself that longed to collapse against this
man and feel him embrace her in mutual weakness. “Heero,” she greeted him soberly, “I was just looking for
you.” She paused, hoping it looked like
she was choosing her words when in reality it was because her heart lurched in
her chest, pitter-pattering with an almost violent beat. “It appears…” She fumbled, the words
twisting on her tongue. Only Heero
could make her lose track of her speech.
She flushed unconsciously. “I’ve
just returned from Commander Une’s office.
Due to a critical situation in the Northern Hemisphere and a combination
of extenuating circumstances, it appears as though…” She had to force it out,
“as though you and I are going to be working on a mission together.”
Heero’s
eyes narrowed. “Relena-“
“Lady
Une has informed me of a terrorist threat,” she interrupted, almost frantic now
to be finished with it, to let the void wrap around her and carry her into
oblivion. She closed her eyes, her
stomach shaking, fighting to hold onto her outward calm. “Large nuclear waste canisters have been
discovered by a man that I-“
A
strong grip on her upper arm made her cut off her words and focus. Her eyelids flew open to see Heero’s eyes
staring at her with an impenetrable gaze, those midnight irises shrouded from
invasion by a hardness that was colder and thicker than steel. Now that she was looking she couldn’t tear
her eyes away, her mouth falling open into a gape, not sure how to tell him,
unable to anticipate his reaction. What
would he do, learning the situation, what would he think? She was distracted by the thought that,
despite its hardness, his face was beautiful.
Looking
into that face, she found the strength to say what she had to. “Heero, about the mission. You are I are supposed to pretend…”
“I
know.”
Her
eyes popped, her head shrinking, hands falling limp at her hands. “You do?”
It was a struggle to say, a breath out of a void of possible answers and
reactions. It changed everything. As her collected exterior disintegrated,
things came into a new light. Here they
were, his fingers around her arm, his body so close she could smell his musky
aftershave…and he knew. And there was
no reaction, no apology, no consideration or reassurance or cooperation in his
expression. No emotion.
“This
has been a developing situation for some time, Relena.”
It wasn’t
often that Relena couldn’t think of anything to say, but as his words sunk in,
they seemed to disappear into a vortex of blank space. Her mind was an empty husk. At first she
wondered if he knew the whole of it, but then she realized that of course he
did. She was always the last to
know. Her brother had probably told
Heero of this mission days ago. Maybe
his reaction then would have told her something, would have revealed some
emotional conflict or doubt or struggle.
But maybe not. Maybe he had just
accepted the order like he did everything else.
Heero
let go of her arm and resumed his typical stance, hands at his sides and back
straight. In his neat Preventer
uniform, his image was that of an eternal soldier, something that was only half
real, human only in unguarded moments of weakness. “Here,” he said. “This is
for you.” He reached into his pocket
and handed her a small red box, shaped like a heart. Relena accepted it with cold hands, her fingers numb, recognizing
it as a box from a jewelry store on the other side of town, one she liked. “You
might as well start wearing it now,” Heero told her. His eyes did not change.
“Don’t worry about what people say.
Rumor will help and the misconceptions can be cleared up later.” His arm fell away from her when she took the
box.
Traitorous
fingers shook slightly as Relena opened it.
The wedding ring inside was beautiful, just what she would have picked
out, a two carat diamond sparkling brilliantly in a setting of white gold, an
antique style with filigree scrollwork fading into the band. It was breathtaking.
“Heero,”
she whispered, forgetting for just a moment that this was not a real proposal,
her heart thumping in her chest, her body warm and wishing suddenly for the
comfort of another. She smiled as she
took the ring from the box, turning it around between her thumb and forefinger.
“I’ll
see you tonight,” Heero said.
She
looked up, eyes wide as she felt him pass by her on the left, a casual brush of
his sleeve against her arm. When she
turned, he was gone. Clutching the ring
in her hand, Relena bit her lip, biting back a sudden onslaught of emotions she
could not name. In all of her indulgent
daydreaming, Heero’s eventual proposal to her had been romantic and
intimate. Never had it happened in the
middle of an office building with the stiff offering of a ring that someone
else had picked out and bought. Never
had he walked away from her right after she received it. Her dreams careened and crashed, splintering
against stone, slashed by the piercing blaze of Heero’s eyes. The mystery surrounding him plagued her; she
had never seen him so stiff and formal, not yielding even a flicker of
sentiment. She had thought they were a
little closer.
But
this was work.
Sighing,
Relena slipped the ring onto the appropriate finger. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift, releasing her
expectations and fears. Surely the
worst was over now. She could endure
Heero being Heero. It really wasn’t a
change. Looking down at the ring on her
finger, she smiled. She would have to
thank Une or Sally or whoever had picked it out for doing such a good job. As she admired the gem, a thought came to
her: the recent memory of Heero's hand, the one that had touched her arm. There was something there, a silvery
flash. He was already wearing his
ring. She had to laugh, to ease the
tension if for no other reason.
For
all practical purposes, she and Heero were now married.
*****
Lady
Une leaned back in her chair and let out a very long breath. “Well, that went as well as could be
expected,” she said to her colleague.
Now
that Relena was gone, the atmosphere seemed less tense. For three days she had been in as near a
panic as she had ever been, worrying about what the mission would mean to
Relena and if the girl could handle it.
Une trusted the peace of the world in Relena’s hands, but the Vice
Foreign Minister was no operative.
Anything out of place could lead to the mass destruction of any number
of things. Nuclear fallout. It was always thought to be a threat of the
past.
Zechs,
who seemed to have adopted a permanent scowl, made a noncommittal sound. “Relena is capable of this mission. I have no concerns regarding her
capabilities, but I do make her emotional distress my business. Heero Yuy may have been the best choice, but
I can’t say that it makes me happy, Une.”
“Do
you think she still has feelings for him?”
It was a stupid question, but Une was curious about how Zechs felt about
Relena’s attachment to Heero. That she had
one was obvious, even when she tried to hide it. Relena was a good political actress, but when she first realized
what the mission really was, nothing could have hid that conflicted anguish in
her face. It was good that she was so
strong. “Relena can handle herself
quite well, I’m sure.”
Icy
blue eyes flashed in her direction, as if Zechs could tell her words were
intended to pacify him, and likely he did
know, but before he could retort, there was a buzzing on her intercom.
“Yes,
Margaret?” Une answered coolly.
Her
secretary was slow to answer. “Officer
Barton requesting admittance, Commander.”
“Send
him in.”
Trowa
stepped immediately through the door, quietly moving to stand at attention
before her. Une merely waved her hand
at him. “There’s no need for the
formality, Trowa.”
His
relaxation was minimal, but it made him look less like a toy soldier and more
like the calm, analytical, courteous person that he was. “I came to report on the status of the
intelligence and counterintelligence, Commanders.” His eyes acknowledged both her and Zechs.
“Did
Maxwell complete his mission?” Zechs asked.
“Yes,”
Trowa replied, “his mission went exactly as planned. He even had time to add a few…personal touches.” The usually stoic Trowa smiled, a small
twist of the lips bringing a gleam to his eye.
Une had known that if she let Duo perform the counter mission, he would
play a few small jokes on Heero and Relena, but he really was the best man for
the job. She was a little curious what
it was he had done that Trowa found so funny, but she knew the basic outline of
the mission.
Early that morning, right as Relena answered that
phone call Une
personally conducted, Duo was already waiting just outside her door. When the Vice Foreign Minister left for her
mandatory 8 o’clock appointment, he went in and redecorated her house from top
to bottom, making it look as if Heero had already been living there. He had been instructed to compliment
Relena’s feminine décor with things from Heero’s apartment or things that Heero
might have or need, such as books and tools, furniture, food and his clothing
and personal items. It also meant
adding some wedding-associated things, like a fake guest book in the study and
a doctored wedding picture that Duo had made himself. What Duo might add to that…well, Une could imagine.
“What
about the mole?” Une asked, trying to get images of what Duo would find
humorous out of her head.
“As
our intelligence previously predicted, Private Richardson arrived at the
premises just after Maxwell vacated it.
Our reports indicate that everything is going smoothly. His equipment is top-of-the-line, employing
a constant video feed as well as optimum sound. In some places, he’ll be able to hear even whispers.”
“Do
they know they can’t talk on site?” Zechs asked.
“Yuy
knows,” Une explained. “We did tests
with similar equipment. Heero
understands exactly how loud he will be able to speak at precisely what
distances from the speakers and not be heard.”
She frowned. “It isn’t
much. They’ll be better off not trying
to act out of character around the cameras.”
“What
about Relena?” Zechs asked.
Lady
Une shrugged. “Heero will tell her what
she needs to know. They need to carry this
thing twenty-four seven unless we stage-manage breaks for them. I’m sure Richardson will have Relena
followed. That’s why I didn’t want to
keep her here long.” Ignoring Zech’s
fingers clenching on the chair, Une turned to Trowa. “Anything else? Is our
mole having any difficulties rigging Relena’s home?”
“The surveillance team across the street from Relena’s house will alert me if anything goes awry, but the calculated probability of failure is very low.” After delivering his technical report, Trowa hesitated. “It’s important that he succeeds. This mission depends on the mole being successful in his infiltration in order to ease the fears of our real enemy.”
Lady
Une knew that perfectly well. Trowa
would not let any loose ends botch this mission. When a mole was detected,
it was always best to let the mole believe that he was acting anonymously and
keep a sharp watch. If one double agent
was weeded out, it only meant that another, unknown enemy, would take its
place, and then they would be left in the dark. Trowa knew that as well as anyone. Her faith in his skills had been the sole
reason for appointing him as head of Internal Affairs. Of course, all of the former Gundam Pilots
had high positions in Preventer ranks when they were needed, but as their
leader, Une knew that some were better suited for particular tasks.
“What
is it, Barton?” Zechs demand, his sharp
voice slicing through the air like lightening.
Une always thought that “Lightening Count” had been a fitting and
versatile title. She hadn’t realized
that Trowa was holding something back, but by the way his eyes looked to the
left was a characteristic sign.
“About
Relena. Supposing she is even up for
the job, do you think there will be consequences? Her feelings for Heero….” Even Trowa faltered under Zechs’ hard
stare.
His
response was clipped and final. “Relena
is quite able to do any job. It’s Yuy
that will be the problem.”
Lady
Une’s thoughts were grim. Heero Yuy was
almost inhuman in his ability to get a mission done. The Perfect Soldier was now the perfect Preventer. If anything, Heero would be too good as Relena’s husband, and then
Zechs would really be furious.
*****
Relena’s
day had been even more arduous than usual.
Three meetings ran more than a little late, and the time constraint had
forced her to skip lunch. The coffee
and candy bar that she had bought from the vending machine in the lobby of her
building had only made matters worse.
Caffeine without real food addled her thoughts and made her over-talkative,
as if she didn’t have other things on her mind that were already making her
jittery. She felt like she had missed
everything important that was said in her meetings. She tried to keep her mind focused on her work, but the big
glittering diamond on her left hand made her assistant stare and the delegates
smirk, and that made it difficult. She
didn’t need them to remind her that she was wearing it. It was a fair sized stone, but it shouldn’t
make her hand feel like it was ten pounds heavier. Eventually the strain of not gaping at it had gotten to be so
much that she turned it on her finger, stone on the palm side. That had relieved a little of the
anxiety. A little.
The
scene with Heero kept playing over and over again in her head, especially the
end, when he had said he would see her tonight. Well, it was tonight now, and her driver had just turned down her
street. Would he come knocking on her
door later? Would he welcome her
home? Would he pretend to be tired and
go straight to bed so he wouldn’t have to talk to her? A million possibilities flashed through her
mind before the driver pulled up alongside her modest, two-story classic home
and opened the door for her. Though her
heart was beating fast again, Relena smiled and relaxed outwardly, making
herself assume her practiced poise as she thanked the man and walked to the
front door of her white house. Fishing
her keys from her purse, she opened the lock and stepped inside.
She
stopped dead in the entryway.
Relena
had a quaint, clean house. On the main
floor, her nice oak floors and accent wood paneling were crisp and polished, together with white walls
and an elegant curving staircase that led to the upper level. Her entryway was open and light, adorned
with simple, pretty paintings and a rose-colored flowered rug. Her living room, off to her left, was also
open and uncluttered, the furniture and accessories maybe a bit girly with
plush, floral couches and crystal vases.
To the right was her kitchen, a spacious one despite her lack of serious
culinary time. It was nice, though, all
white and light-colored wood with marble countertops and a good-sized island.
This
was not her house.
The
pink flowered rug, which she had paid good money for and picked out especially for
her foyer, was replaced with one of more traditional patterns and shapes in
navy and forest green and white. It was
nice, but it wasn’t hers. The living
room looked like a different universe.
Instead of her nice girly couches, there were black leather ones, and
crystal vases were now angular, bold-colored sculptures. The only thing that was the same was the
white carpeting. A stray idea popped
into her head that if they had been given enough time that would be different
as well. The only place that she could
see that looked unaltered was her kitchen, and even that looked slightly
different. Relena narrowed her eyes
when she saw that her lovely pink curtains were now dark red.
Hiding
her irritation, she strode under the curving double stair to the back of the
entryway, where a thick wooden door hid her study. Other than her bedroom, her study was her favorite room in her
house. All of her books should be
neatly lined up on the shelves, with pictures of family and friends on the
mantle above her stone fireplace.
Looking around briefly, she was grateful to see that not that much had
changed, but she noted with narrowed eyes some messily stacked books about guns
and mobile suits that were shoved randomly on shelves where there was space,
and the absence of her photos. Those,
for some reason, had been replaced with a large, hideous stuffed hawk.
The hawk frightened her when she first laid eyes on it. She flinched, thinking for a moment that it was real, its pinions and feathers a dark molted brown, petrified talons digging into a stained wooden base. Its beak was especially hideous, the life-like semblance causing her to wonder what it could do as a weapon. She had heard of birds of prey being trained to claw out the eyes of humans and horses in ancient battles, though she wasn’t sure if the information was factual. The eyes particularly caught her. They were glass, and dark blue, watching her with an intensity that had made her think the horrid thing was alive when she first saw it.
Though
the hawk was stuffed, realization hit Relena suddenly that she was being watched. It wouldn’t do to be
gaping at her own house like she had never seen it before, even if she felt
like she hadn’t. Moving slowly, as if
she was merely disoriented from exhaustion and not because anything was out of
the ordinary, she tossed her purse onto the desk like she did every day and
picked up her day planner, pretending to sort through it. Flipping the pages gave her a little time to
adjust. She could live with all of the
changes (as long as they were all fixed later!) and she could do this mission.
Scribbling
an invented note in the planner about a change of rooms for one of her
meetings, she set the planner beside her purse on the dark wooden desk. There was a miss-matched stack of books
there, too. One entitled “The History
of Space Battle” and another “Maintaining your Mobile Suit.” Relena almost choked as she eyed some more
of the unfamiliar titles on the bookshelf, noting that whoever had added these
books knew Heero pretty well even if they were poking fun. A collection of poems by William Blake
leaned up against “Evolution of the Handgun,” and Relena’s stack of classic
literature had expanded to include a few authors that were a bit too dry and
pedantic for her taste. A thin
advertising pamphlet labeled “spandex, the new fabric of our lives” looked to
have been tossed on top of a massive technical guide on tactics and
weapons. That certainly sounded like a
Heero Yuy book. Smiling, she picked up
the stack on the desk in order to shelve it nicely with the other books when
she noticed one that was different. It
was white with gold lettering. Curious,
she opened it.
Names
covered several of the pages inside.
They were all names she knew, like Noin and Dorothy and Quatre. She had to smile at the effort they had put
into actually making a fake guest book for her wedding. A message scribbled at the bottom caught her
attention. ‘Congratulations on your
life together. Hope you like the
stuffed bird I got you. It reminded me
of someone! -Duo.’
Relena
set the book back down on the desk and covered her light laugh with her
hand. The fact that Duo had put all of
this garbage in her house made sense.
She should have recognized that from a mile away. Her laugh wasn’t for that alone,
though. That awful bird did remind her
of Heero, in the eyes at least, although she would never say that to his
face. Wiping her eye, she set the album
back down, caressing the cover for the benefit of the camera as if it was something
she had always been fond of.
Staring
at the album, it occurred to her that this was for real, that Heero would be
living in her home, circling around one another, eating meals together,
sleeping in the same bed together…
Relena’s heart rate sped up and she turned on her heel, leaving her
study to climb slowly up the spiral stairs to the bedroom. She wondered if she would have enough time
to take a shower and change before Heero came home from “work,” to wrap herself
decently in a robe and perhaps make them both some tea to calm her nerves. She
didn’t know what she was going to do with Heero actually living in her
space, how that was going to work, but she knew she needed to hurry.
Shrugging
out of her coat on the way up, Relena pushed open the bedroom door and tried
not to stop and stair at the changes.
Her eyes darted first to the King size, four post bed in the middle of
the room and tried to adjust to the way all of her furniture had been moved
around or replaced to accommodate it.
The colors were not the frilly whites and airy blues she had left this
morning, but dark, deep classical colors like the rest of the furniture in the
house. The wood for the furniture
upstairs was darker than below, lending a deep, mellow tone to the
atmosphere. The covers were a dark
cherry red, and the matching curtains on the windows obscured light enough to
darken the room, making it somehow…sensual.
Relena
stared at the bed, eyeing it out of the corner of her eye as she tossed her
coat over the chair and removed her shoes and earrings. Her heart was just thumping loudly now,
powerful and strong, echoing in time with her thoughts. She couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the
situation. It seemed surreal somehow,
like these were props on a stage set for a movie and that none of the details
would need to be
videotaped. And yet, there was
something comforting about it, something solid and sure and…nice to the way she
felt. She laid her hand on the dresser,
staring at the diamond ring gleaming on her finger, emotions swelling up in her
stomach, flooding her senses.
A
man’s hands grasped her by the waist and she let out a small gasp of air before
the familiar scent of Heero’s
aftershave drifted to her nose. His
fingers wrapped gently around her
stomach, the rest of him coming firmly up behind her, leaning into her, pulling
her back as if to relax her by dragging her close to his body. If anything, she stiffened, feeling his face
come up along the side of her neck, his lips moving in her ear.
“Welcome home, Relena.”
Relena’s
eyes widened. The words rolled easily
off his tongue, still in those same dark tones with which she had heard him
speak before, only with a softness to it now, a sweet gentleness that stole her
heart and swept her mind away. Her eyes
widened, the compassion in Heero’s voice killing her words. Her stomach trembled under his hands and she
closed her eyes, breathing in oxygen and his scent with it, more terrified than
happy, and completely lost.
His
hand rose to her face, brushing away strands of her hair, caressing her cheek,
and then she felt his lips against her neck. All rational thought left
her. It was a sweet, loving gesture,
asking nothing, but unmistakably intimate, and she swallowed, her heart
constricting as a deep, painful longing welled up from somewhere deep within
her, a lonely cry making itself heard from where it had been long buried and
ignored. But she knew none of this was
real.
“How
was your day?” he whispered, his embrace both a torture and a comfort.
She
smiled, for the camera, because she was the hope of the world, or some part of
it, and people needed her to smile. She
relaxed, shaking out her anxiety, remembering what she was about. Turning her head slightly toward Heero, just
enough to make out a tenderness in his eyes that she had never seen before, she
transported the smile to him.
“Fine,”
she replied.
Zapenstap: *sob* I love this fic!! I kill myself!
Mizaya: *tear* i love this fic, too! T_T And lots of people reviewed it! Thank you!
Zapenstap: Yeah thanks! We squeal and IM each other every time we get a review. O_O
Mizaya: Yay!
Mizaya: Do the readers know what we have in store
for them? *smirk*
Mizaya: Please review! ^_^