Fall to Ashes 4/6 (R-NC17) by Coley Merrin

[miaka mouse]

As for the rating... I still haven't quite muddled it out, but it's getting the higher end of the bargain just so I can sleep peacefully at night. If anyone wants to read the edited version, it'll be up at fanfiction.net shortly.

Thanks to all who've reviewed in the past (and a great big apology and "Happy birthday!" to all those b-days which I have missed) and a great big thanks to Miaka, who has so kindly taken the time to edit for my nit-picky self. Also thanks to Loyce, and Zap, for the encouragement... without you three, this surely would have died an early death. *hugs you all*

Jen :0)


Fall to Ashes

by Coley Merrin

WARNING!: It's not truly graphic, but it is what it is. Lemon, lime, in between, it has the elements. And a bit of wordiness thrown in for good measure. This is the first time I've tried to approach a lemon, so perfectly realistic writing I was merely guiding towards... one has to start somewhere. So, please continue at your own discretion (or again, either e-mail me for the edited version, or check ff.net).

***

It started as a tiny spark,
fed by time of peace and war.
Shyly glowing in the dark,
waiting for the opened door.

Spark to flame,
flame tumbles and crashes.
Regardless what our dreams became,
it will all fall to ashes.

***
It had been an incredible step to make. Relena knew how much she loved him, knew infinitely how the feeling that he had inspired would never cease to live inside her. Yet for all her certainty, she had no words from him. Her promise had lain only in the vows that had been so solemnly repeated. Vows she had said from the bottom of her heart. Vows he had said ever so seriously, as was his manner, but with less emotion. She did not doubt him, did not doubt that his feelings for her ran deep. It was clear to her that she could be called foolish for agreeing to marry a man whom she didn't have any great proof of his emotion. But her proof was the fact that she was alive, and he had asked her to marry him. Words could soothe and comfort and confirm a feeling, but in her heart she knew. When he was ready, words could come later.



They had not spoken on the ride to the hotel. The silence had not been uncomfortable, only slightly empty. He had been content to drive without talking, and she... she had not been able to help herself from just looking at him as they drove. His hands had gripped the steering wheel with such ease, such competence, that it had been impossible not to feel totally safe. It had also been impossible under the circumstances for her to distance the sight of his slim fingers from the promise of what the night would hold for them. Her cheeks had warmed, causing her to look out towards the buildings that flashed by, missing the quick gaze from the man beside her.

As they entered the hotel room the silence began to unnerve her. Apprehension was beginning to take over, where only the glow of being Mrs. Heero Yuy had been before. Relena certainly did not fear him, her trust in him was implicit. She feared herself more. Was he more experienced than she? What if he found her lacking? As he opened the window shades it made her jump from the spot that she had frozen in when they entered. It was almost as if he had missed the fact that she wasn't following. The room was still dark, neither of them reaching to turn on a light, and for her wondering eyes the faint glow from outside illuminated his face. Heero. The same face that entered her dreams, and even a few fantasies. More than a few.



He found himself staring out the window in some odd sense of fascination. Certainly not for the view outside, it was a city like any other, but to keep himself from thinking. He found he had become very good at it lately. Perhaps he always had been, so good in fact that he'd never known he was doing it. This time, though, it was harder. He had to forcibly remove her from his mind...if only to preserve his sanity. And what sanity was there left, anyway? he wondered. He'd married her not an hour ago, stood in the same room with her, felt the same pull, the same anticipation, and the same fear.



Fear was certainly one of the better known emotions he was feeling. His fear had never been allowed to rule him, however, and certainly it hadn't lately. If fear had been the controlling factor, he would have run long and hard from Relena out of the simple fear of what she encouraged him to feel, and in turn of what they could have together.

He knew she had not made him feel for her. She was a quiet yet forceful woman, but it had always been his choice in some way. These confusing, and indescribable feelings had no name he could think of, no ready or adequate words to describe them. They simply were, just as she was.



"Just listen to yourself, and to her, and you'll be fine," Duo's words echoed in his mind, "It's not rocket science." Would Duo laugh if Heero revealed he suddenly wished it were? The words calmed him, though, as he knew Duo had meant them to do. With a quiet breath he turned to look at Relena.


She stood watching him. Her fear was there, but also an overwhelming measure of trust.


She moved closer slowly, not wanting to break the almost ethereal peace that had fallen on them. His face a mask of confusion.

"What have I done?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" The words struck fear into her heart. What had he done... marrying her? Was he regretting it now? She trembled slightly, before getting a hold of herself. It couldn't be...

"What have I done in my life to deserve this? Deserve you?"

"You didn't have to *do* anything, Heero."

"You say that. But...you don't know." Heero wouldn't look at her. She took his face in her hands, feeling such comfort in the contact, wishing he felt the same comfort she did.



"I do know. I know I love you more than I thought was possible to love another person. I know I trust you, and I know there's a lot of happiness in me that wouldn't be there if it weren't for you."



His fingers easily encompassed her wrists. The warmth of his hands erasing the chill she didn't know had spread along her arms. Her skin was cool under his fingers, trembling ever so lightly and suddenly bringing bolts of desire into his body. This was no time to be objective. This was right, it had to be, and he was almost shocked to realize he needed her, desired her. It was not as if he had never considered the concept. He was a healthy 18 year-old male after all, but having it live in some dark corner of his vivid imagination was so different than feeling her, reacting to her emotions, and dealing with the consequences of his actions. Moving after a moment of thought, he went from standing still to carrying her easily. Laying her on the bed gently, he moved her hair out from under her so it wouldn't pull. The mattress dipped under his weight as he moved to the other side and laid down next to her. Silently, he draped over arm over her stomach, while the other supported his head as they stared at each other.

"Is it supposed to be like this?" Relena wondered, more to herself than to him.

"Like what?"

"Like..." she trailed off, not sure where she was trying to go. "Like we don't know each other." We don't, his mind supplied him. And yet... Heero took her hand in his, pulling her closer before pressing her palm to the center of his chest.



"No matter what," he began, speaking slowly as if to emphasize his words, "I will always know you here."

"Heero..." Again he took the initiative to move, rolling onto his back and bringing her with him so it was she who hovered slightly over him.



"Heero?"

"This is your night," he whispered. "Tell me...show me...Relena."



He wasn't afraid of her. It was hard to imagine Heero truly afraid of anything, but even that small display of trust warmed her.



She ran her fingertips down the curve of his cheek, slowing to trace the fullness of his lower lip. One kiss they'd shared. It had lasted only seconds and had been chaste as a new snow. She realized that she'd been staring at his lips when she looked to find him looking back at her with the closest thing to an amused _expression that he could muster.



"What?" Relena asked in embarrassed indignation.

He shrugged as if to say it was nothing.



Their eyes met again. The deep blue she was so familiar with wasn't cold and emotionless, but seemingly soft and bordering on slumberous. They reassured her, urged her on. What would it be like to see his eyes like this, only filled with desire? She could feel his light breathing against her lips before realizing she had leaned forward. Just a little further...



The pressure was light at first. Their lips sliding together as if searching for the perfect fit. She felt a giggle welling up when he gasped as she lightly scraped his lip with her teeth. He could be surprised! Copying her action, Heero nipped at her lips, causing her to copy his reaction, gasping as not just his lips came back to hers, but his tongue to sooth where his teeth had been. Her lips were so warm, so smooth, tasting only of her, the glossy sweet stuff she had worn at the wedding having already been chewed off.



"Heero," she murmured against him, feeling his hands come up to guide her to where she could straddle his hips, lining them up perfectly. As she looked down at him then, her love seemed to well up to consume her, without so much as even the act of loving, Heero had become a part of her. Yes, in a way he always had, but in that moment she knew that there would never be another love like this for her.



Was it possible for two hearts to meld together, creating a heart so large and pure and infinite that even the darkest evil of the universe could not rend it? To lose Heero would be to lose herself. From the moment this love had begun to grow within her, when seeing him, even speaking his name became her world, she had known the day might arrive when she would not be able to mentally separate herself from him. Maybe love was a kind of madness, cleaving a person to another being over which you had no control, no guarantee that one's true love would be returned and be kept alive. She would not kill herself if she lost him, either to death or to any number of human reasons, but inside she would begin to die. The day had indeed arrived, and as his heart beat so did hers.



Heero lay there, watching her with those intense eyes that seemed to be able to see where her thoughts lay. That revelation within herself was so important, so huge, so all-encompassing she could barely grasp it. It was madness to be so introspective when he lay under her, quite nearly at her command, though she imagined he might be a bit miffed at being ordered about. But with this, from that moment until the day she took her last breath, every touch, every word, all that he did and would come to mean to her, all that he was, would be written in her heart. Or, if one became fanciful, written in the very stars themselves. Princess of earth, prince of the stars, they had shed all human titles to come to this moment. Loving him, loving Heero, creating one first night with him, it would serve to bind them together. Maybe not just their hearts, but their souls as well.

'Do you feel it?' she asked him silently. 'Do you feel this bond that could be? Can you return it? Can we be strong like this forever? If you leave will you return to me, and will you stay...for always? I want to bear your children, Heero Yuy, I want to give them the last name of their father. I want them to know of the great things you have done, that we have done together. I want to see your reaction when I tell you that we have made a child, the perfect physical proof of our love, and I want you to be happy. I want to see you watch our baby grow, see this baby become a young child and this love, so pure and trusting and innocent, give you back your humanity, the part of it I cannot heal, or even touch, but must be given freely, and taken willingly. I cannot do this, heal all of you, my love, for all that I am to you, and all that you are to me, I can do only so much. But I can love you with my whole heart, and I can give you children, and I can stand beside you as your wife, and your equal for as long as you will have me. This life we have will be ours. Life is simply never easy, never perfect, and there must be troubles along the way for us. Love does not conquer all as it does in the fairy tales, and so much as I would wish our life to be as that, it is the struggles that bind us together, even as they can tear us apart. Our past has shown that to us, hasn't it?'

She looked so pensive, hovering over him, watching him so intently, so thoughtfully. The control he had over his body kept him from shifting his fingers as he stopped himself from reaching for her, rushing her. But his control appeared to be fading. Most battles he could take, but in some way this was more important, and so much harder to fathom. His breath seemed shallow and loud to his own ears. His pulse seemed to race faster with each moment she lingered, just looking. Did she like what she saw? She had said she loved him, and his knowledge of love had that liking, or at least accepting how the object of the emotion appeared. Of course his mind appreciated it too was generally deeper than the skin. Her own skin was flushed, the look of concentration melting into something near pain. Could it be she *did* want what she saw?



He ached to hold her, pull her closer, kiss her until they were breathless... But he had yielded his power to her. She was free to do...or not do... as he wished. Even to go so far as to halt it altogether. The thought brought a moment of panic to him, seeming to startle her out of her thoughts.



Shaking herself from her reverie, she pushed back his hair, smoothed the thick dark mass back from his forehead, and watched as it fell back into the place she had dislodged it from. So familiar, and so loved. She could have simply ran her hands through his hair all day, had he not reached for one of her hands, threading their fingers together as they stared at each other.



"Your hair is as stubborn as you are," Relena told him softly.



Then, as his hand tightened over hers, he did the most incredible thing...he smiled at her. The lips that had just kissed hers parting to expose straight, white teeth. He had a dimple, she marveled. Oh, it was faint all right, but it was there, with a twin just showing, giving him an almost impish look. Heero, impish? As the smile faded from his face, the look still stayed in his eyes, so they still smiled at her. Her mouth fell open as another burst of love swept through her, causing her breath to leave her, her heart seemingly growing wings and trying to soar through her throat. The sound that was wrenched from her aching throat sounded more like a strangled sob to her ears, than any _expression of joy. Surely he must have seen the look of longing on her face as she tried to breathe, for in the next second he had closed the few inches between their faces and locked them together in the only way available to them at the moment. His lips were urgent, but so were hers. Maybe his were for a slightly different reason, but somewhere in between they met, and it was right.



His tongue once again swept the barrier of her lips, finding her teeth, their tongues met slightly through that barrier, causing him to groan from deep in his throat. Feeling that sound vibrate up through the fingertips of the hand she had laid there sent a shiver running through her. With an answering whimper, the last barrier there was parted. His tongue swept in, running over and under hers, coaxing her to join this sensuous dance. Their heads angled almost instinctively, allowing them better access, flirting from one mouth to the other, and meeting in the middle. When his hips began to mimic the action of his tongue, she pulled away reluctantly. She licked her lips, still tasting him there, as she watched his eyes open. There her wish of earlier was fulfilled. Desire, lust, passion, shone at her. His breathing lifted her slightly every time, as he panted along with her.



"Relena," he said hoarsely. Maybe her plucking at the buttons of his shirt was the first clue to him, for in the next second he had shot up, settling her more firmly against his hips, intimately close to him, the ache between her legs that he had caused seemed to settle directly on his erection.



"Too many clothes," he gasped as he claimed her mouth again. She could feel the backs of his hands brushing against her chest as he tore at his shirt. They moaned together, locked still together at hip and mouth, their lower bodies rocking in time with each other. His hands went directly to the back of her dress, pulling down the zipper as far as it would go, slipping one warm hand inside to press against her burning skin. From lower back to shoulder he stroked, not finding any obstruction. Tearing himself away he looked at her again with the same _expression of amusement. She merely shrugged and smiled. She had known what their vows would lead to, and complicating matters had not been on her list of priorities. She pushed away the hands that tried to drag the dress from her shoulders, instead reaching up to do it herself. He watched in rapt amazement as the dress dipped lower, the sleeves finally slipping off her arms, exposing her to him for the first time, the dress pooling at her thighs. She fought the urge to become embarrassed, and lost it entirely when his hand settled on the bare curve of her hip, making her look to him quickly. His eyes were no longer amused, and definitely not slumberous. They were dark and feral, nearly daring her to refute his right to touch, to claim what was his. Her statement was the movement of her hips against his, and his answer was to lay her back on the bed, pulling the dress the rest of the way down her legs and flinging it across the room. He silenced any protest she might have had to the rough handling of her garment (though there were none) by slanting his lips across hers. This time the kiss was short, but turbulent. He had other things in mind, as he began to kiss a path down her neck, stopping with every sound she made to pay extra attention to that spot. He asked her to tell him, to show him what she wanted, and it appeared she had communicated it well.

Time began to fade away with the touch of his hands. With every harsh breath he took, each touch of his lips ghosting along her skin, lingering where he gained the most response, it made it so much more real. In some way it was like some fragmented dream, a fantasy of seemingly a thousand nights merging into something it had been hard enough understanding earlier, much less when he was driving her to distraction. In another way though, feeling her lungs contract suddenly as his lips found her neck, open and eager, she automatically curled in closer, his hair tickling her as his tongue wet her skin in slick strokes. He inhaled suddenly, causing the skin to cool, and then, lips still loosely pressed to her neck, he exhaled sending a rush of warm air over the chill he had created and causing goose bumps to form. The feeling was like taking a mug of warm liquid on a cold day, warmth spreading from her neck down. Where his lips would touch next she didn't know, but her skin seemed to not quite tingle... it was a feeling she couldn't quite describe, almost as if the nerves beneath were stirring in anticipation. His eyes were wide, taking in her reactions, watching her with such intensity. His gaze was not open, not by far, and his face did not betray much of what he was feeling, only his damp and parted lips and flushed skin really giving a clue. He was so... so beautiful, and so unaware of it...

He trembled slightly as her fingertips grazed his skin, touching a light portion of skin colored so by one of his many battles. She used him for leverage as she brought herself up to kiss his shoulder where a darker, thinner scar lay. They stared at each other in that moment, so close together. She saw him so differently. He closed his eyes and shook his head.



"You're perfect," his hand swept down her side causing her to shimmy closer, "Not me."

"Heero Yuy," she said firmly, taking his face in her hands, "Look at me." Slowly he opened his eyes. She wasn't in the best position of power, laid out under him on the bed, even though he hadn't yet allowed his weight to settle onto her, but she had to try to tell him how she saw him, wanted him to know.



"Your scars are beautiful to me. War...war is a terrible thing, and many people are hurt, you not among the least of them. You fought for what is right, and I am so...so proud of you. I wish there were a way for you to look inside me and see how much I want you to understand this. You hear that they add character, and they do...but if more people knew what I knew when I see you, I think they would understand why I wish for no more fighting. That you had to be hurt to bring us to this point hurts me. Please, never be ashamed of your body... I love you... And I want to cherish the fact that despite it all...you're here with me, now."



The kiss was bruising, enrapturing, sweeping her into a realm of borderline consciousness that had Heero's weight shifting, allowing them for the first time to truly be body to body, flesh to flesh. She whimpered into his mouth at the feeling of his skin against hers. It was only then it seemed he realized just how heavy he must be on top of her, not knowing that she was reveling in that weight, that solidity, that comfort. For the second, maybe third time he rolled over, putting her once again hovering over him, feeling his breath rapidly leave and enter his body.



"You aren't too heavy," Relena assured him.

"I wanted to see..."



With infinite slowness Heero reached up, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. Down her arm, over her fingers, and back again he traced a line that had her near to shivering. His hands had grown, as all of him had, and they were large and warm and strong against her skin. They were not the hands of a worker, calloused and hard, but instead their hardness was their strength, used to holding the controls of a Gundam, and gripping a gun. The callouses from those activities had faded leaving behind faint ridges, and though she knew he held a gun just as often now, it was for keeping himself sharp and not to kill. He guided her arms to her sides, and paused until she was nearly going mad from wondering what he planned to do. One hand moved to cup her face, locking their eyes together. His eyes, the blue of them, nearly ripped the breath from her body, leaving her gasping again, her pulse jumping against him. In that distraction the fingers of his other hand began a journey up her side, slowing to trace small circles before continuing on. She whimpered, tried to urge him faster, but he merely continued at his own pace as she had expected. No one rushed Heero. She jerked as his thumb traced the underside of her breast, but he held her still with the hand on her face. His eyes had left hers now, moving to study the path of his fingers. Wider and wider sweeps with the pad of his thumb he took, moving higher, but stopping just short of reaching the edge of her nipple. Again, she whimpered, desperately trying to make him move for suddenly she realized again she *needed* his touch.

"Heero, please," she whispered.



With calculated movements he moved, tracing a light line around where she ached for him, carefully avoiding the sensitive skin. Then, as she least expected it, he flicked a finger across the tightening flesh, causing her hips to jerk as a near vicious tug of heat hit her low in her stomach. Still deep in concentration he pulled her to him, lined his mouth up with her breast, but still keeping her from being able to move against him. Where did he learn to do this? she wondered. Could this be instinct, him perfect that way as well? His warm breath moved against her, the moisture of his mouth causing her nipples to harden instantly as he blew softly. Any more torture and she would be moving helplessly against him, mewling like a kitten. Maybe that's what he was trying to do. Then his teeth found her skin, worrying it for a second, before lips carefully replaced them, not moving merely holding. 'I can handle this,' she thought. 'It feels wonderful, and I think I can handle this.'



But she never counted on his tongue being more devastating than anything she had ever felt. It danced and played, darting around and over, the texture of his taste buds raking across the sensitive tip driving her towards an edge she had not seen before. It tickled, and yet it didn't, it soothed, but not quite. She was going mad with the want of *something* and nothing in the world could have stopped her from crying out as he stopped playing, and suckled at the skin he had made so responsive. The intensity of that one act was terrifying, that sharp pleasure/pain bringing tears to her eyes as he allowed her to collapse against him, her face buried in his soft hair.



"Heero," she whimpered at first, sounding much like a drowned cat. "Heero," she repeated, almost protestingly, as she tugged lightly on his hair. He watched her intently, afraid he had done something wrong. "I love what you're doing, I'd never want you to stop, only... I want to..." she blushed a bit deeper. "I want to touch you, too."



He rolled quickly to the side, allowing her access to him. She nearly threw himself on him in her haste, pulling his hands up beside his face.

"I want to...see," she continued quietly, as though someone was going to record her words and use them against her. His shirt was gone, exposing his muscles, the sleekness of his torso, the dip from his rib cage to abdomen. His skin was light gold, honey kissed tan, a tribute and gift from his Asian heritage. Her lips touched the corner of his eye, feeling his eye lashes sweep down against her lips as she made him blink. Would their children have those eyes? Deep blue and delicately tilted, set so perfectly in his face with his strong jaw and curving cheekbones. People could go through surgery for years and not come up with a nose as fine and straight. Kissing its tip lightly she continued down, kissing a path as her hands traveled down from his shoulders. His chin, his throat, his breastbone she tasted, marveling in the feel of him. Every muscle was taut as she teased him, not truly knowing that that was what she was doing. Her fingers traced his ribs, over his stomach, around his belly button. He squirmed slightly as she did that and she looked up at him quickly to see his hands clenching in place, as if she had locked him there. He was breathing hard, and his eyes flickered from her hand to her face. She looked back to her hand, and her eyes widened as she saw how very close her fingers lay to the waistband of his slacks. Her lips bowed as she exhaled, giving it an "oh" sound. Now she knew...



Her eyes flew to his this time, locking almost instantly. The look was blistering, such ragged emotion in his eyes. He nodded slightly, giving her permission to continue if she wished. She touched the button lightly, apprehensive, scared... excited, by this possibility. The zipper slid easily, her pulling up as far as it possibly would go, but even that was not enough. His hips bucked violently up, seeking more contact. His eyes were closed, hands grasping at the mattress above his head, swallowing hard. No more tiptoeing around, she decided. It took little tugging to remove his slacks, still getting used to the fact that it was Heero laying on the bed, watching her move naked through slitted eyes.



She had little time to do more than run her fingers along his length, feeling him in some state of awe, before he had hauled her up to him, burying his face in her neck.



"I'm sorry," he said almost desperately. "I told you this was your night, but I can't... if you... if we don't... I can't hold back... I can't..."

"It's ok," she answered soothingly. "Please, Heero... love me."



He parted her knees after shedding the rest of his clothing. Their mouths met just as urgently, tongues battling to equal the other. His hand ventured up her thigh, stroking her, determined to ready her as much as was possible. She began to move against his hand, pleading with him again, and he knew it was time.



His stroke was not fast, nor extremely slow, but one smooth motion was all it took to join them. Her quick gasp was a sharp contrast to his groan. He marveled at the perfect union. No random selection could have devised such a thing as this. He did not necessarily believe in God but there were times such as these when he wondered how he could not. This was an end, and a beginning. The death of innocence giving way to conception and then to the birth of a new innocent being. In that way innocence never truly died, but was a gift from mother to child.

If she asked him to stop now...Waiting already was causing his muscles to quiver. The strain of holding back causing the sweat to form heavily on his back and chest and forehead. He sucked in air like a drowning man come to the surface, his heart racing along with the hoof beats of a hundred wild herds. Never had his control been so tenuous. But then...never had he let a person this close to his heart. It shocked him to realize he wanted to lose control for her. Emotionally, physically, in every way humanly possible he wanted to scream out his need for her. And with that the guilt was staggering. Knowing he had led her to this moment in some form of deceit, even now as he knew that his feelings ran deeper than he expected was possible for him.



He kissed her cheeks, laved them with his tongue, trying to blot out the evidence of the pain he had caused. The salty taste of her tears burning into his mouth, and his memory. Could she, would she forgive him if she knew? Everything must die before it can live, but he had taken something from her he couldn't give back. Used the trust she had so willingly bestowed to him to...to protect her. But there was no absolution in knowing he had protected her, and yet caused her pain. She should have known, he cried silently. Should have had a choice. He knew too late, loved too late, could not now or ever give her that choice. Now he could only hope that when he told her, because it was clear to him that he must, that she could see his reasons not for what they were but for the emotions that had fueled them.



She was a different creature altogether, this Relena. Many saw her for the outward appearance. A pretty face, a wonderful figure, glorious hair. Never had any man seen her as she was now. For that he was glad, irrevocably glad. Those often happy, often troubled eyes dark with desire...for him. Those pretty lips meeting his, matching his hunger, fueling his own desire. And from her mouth spilled the sweetest word of all...his name. To him, in this moment, it was worth more than gold. This was not some act with a faceless stranger for her, she wanted *him.* That, at least, he could give her. After all that he had taken, it was the least he could do. The tears that slipped down her cheeks may have been started by the pain of his entrance, but they had changed in only a moment to tears of rightness, of joining, of being one.



As he saw she had begun to take pleasure from his movements he moved quicker, out of both his own need and hers. The storm in his chest had reached a boiling point when he had seen her tears, and it's thunder roared in his ears... the pain of regret, the ache of need, the joy of pleasure, the want of her...and the wish for her to come away from this night, this bed, this joining, with something more than tears. So every breath he took was drawn for her. Finding his own release was the known factor, seeing that she was able to was ambiguous at best.



"Please," the word left his lips, a plea more breathed than spoken. He could hear her whimper, every sound her own plea to him. Their hips moved together, some deeply rooted knowledge of rhythm, of each other driving them to seek one ultimate goal of mutual pleasure. His forehead rested against hers, needing a different type of contact, staring into her open, pleading eyes distorted somewhat by their proximity. For him he knew the end was near. There was only so much he could do to exert himself, and at the same time hold himself back. Her breath caught once, twice as her muscles caught around him and he knew the time was now.



The feelings had built up slowly. It had felt *good* at first, feeling him move against and in her, but good had slowly faded as a description. Just as her love for him had grown from a feeling of strength and security, small feelings, different feelings, so had the warm first delight into a sharp, searing, and glorious heat that was borne of friction, of passion, their's...Heero's. It had begun as a stroke of a brush on canvas. It continued as the best things in life, music, note by note; child, cell by cell; painting, color by color, and orgasm stroke by stroke. She was desperate, desperate to feel an end to this, desperate for the promise of completion. His mouth crashed down on hers abruptly, tongue sweeping hers. She kissed him back with the same urgency, needing to taste. It would take little to send her falling and he seemed to realize it. Her thundering heart seemed to nearly stop within her, throat letting her moan against him as she fell from the climax of her pleasure. His resolution seemed to be drawing away, feeling his own desperation take him as he knew he had reached his goal, and could focus now on bringing this to an end. She arched against him, as he sank into her for the last time, his thoughts fading as he let go.



He lay still, merely trying to breathe, mouth open against hers, breathing air, breathing her. Neither moved, neither wanting to disturb the perfectness of the moment. He still lay cradled within her, her hips still tilted up sharply to receive him as deeply as was possible, knees holding him close and asking him not to move. Finally he had to, bringing her with him so he could cradle her against him. She sighed into his neck, feeling a sense of peace, and the same feeling of rightness.



He had already begun to slip into sleep when he heard her quiet whisper.



"I love you."



Please never stop, he thought, before succumbing to the bliss of sleep.

***

An insistent beeping woke him from a deep sleep. Deeper than he'd slept for as long as he could remember. Shaking his head slightly, he stared at the shining golden brown hair his nose had previously been buried in. Relena. He moved as she attempted to snuggle back against his warmth, disentangling his arm from around her waist. A sense of dread hit him as he reached for his pager.



"Mission confirmed. Depart 1 hr."



Clutching the little device of metal and plastic hard, he bowed his head. Not one day too soon, his mind said. But...a niggling feeling ate at him. Relena...how would she take his leaving the day after their wedding? Not even 24 hours of marriage.



Relena was many things, he mused. For one so small, so slight, so infinite, she wielded the power of one so much larger. As she had sat on top of him, breath leaving her body in rapid pants, her control over him had been almost more than he could bear. A part of him had been absurdly pleased by the turn of events, how she had responded, and how her response had not only heightened his experience but theirs. She had looked at him in raw hunger, as if that night, them together, was what her future and dreams were founded off of. It was more daunting than anything else. She was so much, and she saw so much in him, so much that he couldn't grasp. Some sort of marital bliss, normalcy, family life... Holding the title "husband" was already enough of a weight on his fevered mind. Mine, he had thought.

He was known for being rather silent, not needing unnecessary words or sentiments, almost to the point of being expected to be slow witted, as if because his mouth didn't work, his brain must not either. Somehow in his past he was conditioned this way. Quick and efficient were all that mattered. It might have always been that way with him, unless he wished to change. The desire to change was not there, until he learned of this world where people interacted, where they loved and communicated and were happy. Happiness was not a word one often associated with him in his lifetime. He could not kill this girl, this woman. Her courage, her boldness were intriguing to him, who had seen so little, but knew so much. Slowly she reached out to him, and just as slowly he found himself wanting to take a hold. It was that feeling that led him to that very moment, so close to taking the one step that had eluded him his whole life. Complete surrender. Self detonation held no fear, because it was an end, or normally so. But that act...it would not end anything. It would merely give her more control over him, over his heart, the one only she saw. And to his amazement, as she had looked at him in desire...and...love...his heart ached for her in a way he hadn't felt before. It was a different type of ache than he had felt cradling the body of the puppy. An ache of emptiness and fulfillment and...no, he could not say hope. He hoped for a better tomorrow, hoped he wouldn't have to kill again, but he could not hope for the love of Relena. He hadn't yet reached that step.



"Heero?" her voice was sleepy. "What is it?"



She was beautifully rumpled, the sheet lightly tucked over her shoulders. If he lay down now, and took her in his arms they would go back to sleep. This was supposed to be a happy morning. All he could do now was thank his lucky stars that he had warned her this day might come. Neither had expected it to be so soon.



"They've called me in. We leave in an hour."



She gasped, sitting up.



"This is *the* mission? The one that could be years?"



"Yes."



"How could they call you now?!" she said, a hint of desperation coloring her voice before rational thought began to sink in. "We didn't have any time..."



"I wish I had known. I have no control over it. I warned you this might happen."



"But I thought we would have time..." she shook her head, watching for a second as he reached for his clothes, before putting on the dress that had only hours ago been a wedding gown.



After he had pulled on his shoes, she moved to stand in front of him as he stood. Her eyes burned him, the longing, the love, even the trust that shone there. She moved into him, burying her face in his neck like she never wanted to let go. He stared straight ahead as his hands moved in what seemed to his mind a comforting motion on her back. Feeling now, in this moment, would only make it harder. She was strong, he hoped he hadn't estimated *how* strong. They would endure his absence, and then... then only time would tell what would happen.

"Be careful, and come home alive That's all I have to ask of you Heero."

"Duo will look after you. I will be back when it is possible. We can have no contact, you understand?" He searched her eyes, seeking confirmation.

"Yes. Oh, Heero...can't you take me with you?" Her voice was strained, eyes wide and pleading. "There is nothing holding me here."



"It isn't possible, I'm sorry."



Briefly he leaned down to kiss away a tear that had escaped. Then their lips met, a soft, final farewell.



"I love you," she whispered, needing him to know.



His eyes closed briefly at her words. "You make me believe."



"No goodbyes," she insisted.



"No. Relena..."



"Heero."



And so as it had always been for them, just the other's name served to let them go. When a gentle finger he wiped away the next tear threatening to fall. As he turned from her he spoke, quietly yet with determination.



"I'll return to you."



It was a promise not unlike another he had made to her not so many years ago. Relena stood calm, serene, as both her job had required, and her character determined, until the door had closed behind him. She turned jerkily, a gasp ripping through her as she realized again he was really gone. There in front of her was the bed they had shared only for a night. No matter how much she wished to curl up there and cry, she couldn't. Heero wouldn't want it, and his strength was in her heart now. Gingerly she bend down, holding the silk of Heero's tie between her fingers, before touching it with her lips.



"Thank you for the time that we had," she said to the absent Heero.



It still smelled of him, and it, like her heart, would be a reminder for wanting him home.

***

[blackrose]

Beautiful, sweet.... Sad and wonderful.

How can he not realize he loves her? And argh! Why do they have to be apart?

I'm hoping that by the time he comes back, he'll know (and he'd better come back, by the way). And he'll not do something utterly stupid like say "I only married you when I did because I didn't want you to be forced to marry someone else."

But...I'm sure he will. And it might kill me as much as Relena. *sobs*

Wonderful, please continue!

Love,
Rose