"Ready?" Heero asked in a quiet yet, tender voice. I nodded. He took my hand and lead me through the basic hall that seemed to throw me into a toss before until we reached the bright kitchen that I was familiar with. He wrapped a hand around my waist and pressed me into his curves. Tenderly, he pecked my check making his mother giggle.

"Tsuo! Not in front of your mother." I playfully hit his armed and tried to glare but only came out laughing. I was amazed. Heero was actually faking romance...and he was good. Too good that it felt real.

"Oh darling, I like to see that my boy is treating his women right. Don’t mind me at all." Heero’s mother said matter-of-factly while setting the spoons and forks around the table.

Heero’s eyes flashed. "In that case, I ought to take you right here." In a mere second he pulled me down to the tile floor, behind the island counter so none of them could see us.

I was expecting him to make a kissing sound, laugh or stand up but instead his eyes dimmed. His thumb was tracing my jaw. Maybe his mother was watching and I couldn’t see her? That had to be it. He wouldn’t do this if someone couldn’t see us.

With that in mind, I played back. I ran my hand though his hair halfway and pulled his head down so our lips touched. Hah, beat that Yuy.

He did. His hands stretched down over my shoulders, curved around the chest and ended on my waist. I frowned inwardly. That wasn’t very nice. I deepen the kiss and wrapped a leg around his lean form and felt the kiss deepen even more except--

"Oh my!" Heero’s mother cried above us. "Tsuo! Did you ask permission from her to kiss her like that?"

I grinned evilly. "Yeah, did you ask permission?" Heero blinked.

"I was only acting on my emotions." Heero stated, slowly getting off me and pulling me to my feet.

Wufie smirked. "Right."

"Hey, I’m honest. Scout Honors."

Trying to compose myself, I adjusted my black shirt and pulled a strand back into my tight bun. With my swollen lips and red stained cheeks I made my way to the dinner table, where the chit-chat and scarfing began. Heero grabbed my hand under the table and sent me a look every few minutes.

Heero’s mother sat there with a smile that could bring light to any colony alone. Why have a need for artificial sun if you got her?

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

Sitting in the antique chair, I watched her knit with wisdom, practice, and years. Her brows kissed each other and each line increase with each smooth tug and pull of the fingers. The red yarn lounged over her knees, matching her red lipstick and cotton sweater.

"Is he good to you?" She asked out of the silence. I shifted uncomfortably but kept my face composed.

"Couldn’t hurt a fly." -Sure, if that’s what I would call it. She didn’t look up, but her lips slurred into a slow, yet, knowingly smile.

"You -do- want to marry him."

"I suppose." Oh yes. So very much yes.

Her fingers stopped, and her eyes grew serious. This time she did look and I saw her understanding as looking into glass to the other side. She knew. What she knew I wasn’t sure, but she knew something. "I’m not asking if you want to marry him. I’m asking if -you- want to marry him."

I blinked. "I’m not sure if I understand."

Suddenly her face brighten again, and her fingers went back to work. The rattle in her voice increased as she chuckled.

"You will soon my dear, very soon."

Yes, if she was a suspect before, she had just moved herself to the top ten wanted. I graced myself with a skeptical grin. She’s wonderful.

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

How was my day? Did he even know the depth of that question? How was my day? Let’s see, woke up to find out I was asleep for three days, faking your love with someone you do love, finding out that your love’s mother is crazy yet wonderful and asked if I wanted to marry him. Wait, no, if I remember correctly it was: do -you- want to marry him.

What in the colonies did that suppose to mean? Did I want to marry him? Not Tsuo, him. Heero.

I moaned outwardly.

"That bad, eh?" Heero asked. I sighed, without response. He opened the covers, beckoning me to crawl in and that’s when it hit me.

I didn’t think of him as Heero anymore. Only those few moments when I saw the eyes that had seen war. No, I thought of him as Tsuo. Heero’s mother was asking if I wanted to marry Heero. But why would she see him in two different aspects? She thought of him as Tsuo and only Tsuo, correct? I did, however, crawl in next to him. To say I was surprised when he held me to him, it only partly true.

But I was always the one to be blunt. "Heero, your mother isn’t here. You don’t have to pretend."

He was acutely silent which somewhat disturbed me. I shifted so I could see his face and gasped.

"Heero.." He was there. This wasn’t Tsuo anymore. My eyes narrowed. How could he switch so easily through personalities. Like he had them programmed. Along with his eyes, I felt fear. Real fear. But I trusted him, didn’t I?

"Sleep." He said, with his old, monotone, yet gentle voice. His eyes soften, yet that glow, that familiar glow, dull yet knowing, war witness, plunge into me and I drowned.

"Heero, what’s wrong?" I wasn’t giving him an option.

"Sleep." He repeated again like a broken record. "Just sleep. Tomorrow is our last full day."

Frustrated and too tired to fight back, I clung deeper into him, wanting this Heero to stay.

But I knew in the morning, the man I knew would be gone, and the pretending mask back in place.

Even with peace established, what did this world have to offer me?

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

The day had dragged. I had spent most of my time by Heero’s side. He had done mini-chores around the house that his mother couldn’t quiet establish in her old age. He even spent a lot of time talking with his mother where she requested I, too, join the discussion. I didn’t have much to offer, but I sat there, leaning against Heero’s warmth, our hands locked together, with a tactful smile.

I also spent a good amount of hours in the kitchen with Wufie and Quatre cutting veggies and fruit for dinner, all while, Trowa reading the newspaper aloud to us. It felt nice, good, all those wonderful feelings that make you feel young again to be with them. Spending time with them, even if an occasional glance was over a stack of raw carrots.

I had no friends, and these, were the beginnings of ones. Wufie, too, I’ve become quite fond of. His sarcastic remarks, judgmental eyes, his straight back, all to easy to read. Making him comfortable to be around. The mystery was not there, and that was something I only saved for Heero.

That’s what draws the line of love, for Heero. It was the mystery that drew me to him and keeps me there, locked in his eyes only. But did he ever see me back? No, how could he? Dark men love dark people. Right? And what is my darkest secret?

In fourth grade I cheated on a test, cried for weeks in self-hate, and then, receiving a on the test, promised I would never do it again, nor tell anyone. Everything else of mine is known to the public, to the cameras, to the gundams and to my brother. I have no secrets, only myself. I have no deep mind. I’m shallow. Just a image for peace with the tactful skill of making a basic concept as pacifism sound elegant, smart, and right. I could manipulate the people.

How good of a person am I really?

I’m not just playing house with Heero now, I play house everyday with my people. I fake everything. Every smile for a picture, every interview for a newspaper. What would they do if I told them I didn’t believe true peace could come any time soon. What would they do if I told them I was lonely, shallow, and lost? They would panic, seeing their leader has lost it. They are sheep. They follow their leader in every emotion.

But lying is better? Politic. Poli, greek, latin, one of the two. Meaning? Pretend. Not real. Fake.

Politeness. Root word? Poli. Pretend. Not real. Fake.

Polish? Pretend. Not real. Fake.

Relena? Perhaps a different root word, yet, I am pretend, I am not real, I am fake.

With that in mind, I slouched at the kitchen table, pushing the cooked beans with my fork, letting the chatter rise above my head. No one seemed to notice my inward mood or casual, dim eyes.

Or so I thought.

Heero leaned over next to me, and whispered into my hair, "We’ll talk about it later." He kissed my cheek, making his mother smile in approval. I kept myself composed, or at least tried and nodded into his questioning gaze.

With that resolved, he went back to his own plate, and occasionally answered a question his mother sent him.

What I wasn’t prepared for, however, was coming next.