Refuge Waiting 1/3 - Sail Your Sea, Meet Your Storm

[Smarty Cat]

Story Summary: Sometimes coming full circle isn't so bad. Rain, romance, and one set of shared clothing that just refuses to be returned to its proper owner.
Chapter Summary: When Relena turns up on Heero's doorstep during a storm, will he turn her away?

Originally written way back in 2002. This chapter revised November 23, 2005. Somehow it never made it here.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is owned by Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and distributed in America exclusively under license by Bandai Entertainment. I just buy the merchandise and play with the characters. Chapter titles are from "Harbor," words and music by Vienna Teng, performed by Vienna Teng.

For Kaoruwolf
One order of 1xR mush coming right up! Would you like warm fuzzies with that?

Refuge Waiting

by
Smarty Cat
smartycat9383(at)yahoo(dot)com

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Part 1 -- Sail Your Sea, Meet Your Storm
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There was nothing like the raw, natural power of a summer thunderstorm to make a person feel warm and protected. If that person were safely indoors, that was.

Relena shivered as another flash of lightning split the sky. She was freezing, and the natural light show was displaying its marvels far too close for comfort! A burst of thunder seemed to explode directly over her head, and she ducked instinctively. It was like being in the war all over again, except this time the war was not waged by men and machines but by nature itself.

The day had started out innocently enough with the usual tightly scheduled meetings and public appearances, but Relena had decided to spend her lunch hour exploring the local scenery incognito and without a bodyguard and without informing her bodyguards or any other personal staff of her plans. To sum up the situation, she was lost, she was wet and cold, and no one knew where to look for her. To add to her misery, she had wandered into a residential district, and the streets were completely empty. Even if any of the neighborhood's denizens had been foolish enough to be out and about in the downpour, none would have been likely to recognize her. There were few similarities between the graceful, composed diplomat the world knew and the soaked, sniffling blonde currently roaming the streets alone.

Relena glared up at the heavens accusingly from beneath her sodden bangs. Just how much longer was this going to last? As if in answer, the heavens opened yet again. Rain lashed at her skin painfully, and she choked back a sob. Although she was immersed in such a dense curtain of falling water that she could only barely make out the buildings across the street, she would not panic.

Something hard struck her head. Relena recoiled violently and felt a strange liquid warmth at complete odds with the coldness of the rain run down her face. Shocked blue eyes focused on the small, hard white ball at her feet.

"Oh, God!"

The young woman spun on her heel, rushing desperately for the single, barely visible warm glow of a house window. She had not seen any overhanging shelter during her stroll down the neat brownstone-lined street, there were no large trees because it was a newly built area (not that she would have stood under a tree anyway because of the very real threat of a lightning strike), and it had to start hailing!

The hail began to fall steadily, bouncing off the cobblestone-paved street and battering the lone young woman's body. She covered her head with her arms, but stabs of pain still shot through the rest of her body every time the hail connected. Gathering her strength, she sprinted the last few meters, bounded up the brownstone's steps, and flung her weight at a neat red door.

"Let me in! Please! It's hailing! Please, let me in!" Relena pounded on the wood with both hands and yelled, pleading for someone, anyone, to come to her rescue.

The door abruptly opened inward, and Relena tumbled forward. A strange, thunking noise like a heavy weight hitting a hard surface registered in her consciousness before a pair of strong arms caught her falling body. A faint sound of surprise made Relena look up as her rescuer dragged her safely inside. Familiar intense blue eyes stared back at her, softened by the rare startled expression she so cherished.

"Heero?"

Relena blinked in disbelief then reached up to hesitantly touch a tanned cheek. The young man permitted her fingers to briefly brush his skin before pulling away. He put the sodden girl in his arms back on her feet and stepped back with both hands firmly on her shoulders, staring. Relena shifted nervously under his inspection and felt a blush suffuse her cheeks.

It was so incredibly ironic that out of all the houses she could have run to for shelter, she chose the one where Heero Yuy resided. It was almost like she had radar. It was also rather embarrassing being caught like this, in such an unsettled and disheveled state. Heero looked the same as he had during the war, only taller and better fed, but she currently bore a remarkable resemblance to a drowned cat.

Relena's eyes caught sight of a familiar weapon resting on a low table next to the doorway. She smiled weakly. That explained the strange sound she had heard as she tumbled into Heero's arms. She raised her face up to his, lips twitching faintly.

"Do you always answer your door with a gun?"

Heero released her shoulders, apparently recovered from the shock of catching the famous young diplomat after she tried to break down his door, and walked over to a plain tan couch covered in clean laundry waiting to be folded. He selected a towel and calmly tossed it over her head.

"Only when it's you."

Relena sputtered in surprise and pulled the soft terrycloth away from her eyes. She stared at Heero's face suspiciously. It was just a little too stoic and expressionless to be natural. She grinned.

"Heero, you made a funny!"

One dark eyebrow arched upward at her childish proclamation. He moved back over to her with the deceptively easy grace of a predator. Heero leaned down and positioned his face just inches from her own, staring directly into her eyes.

Relena froze, and her breath caught in her throat when he lightly ran one finger down the side of her face. She shivered and instinctively leaned forward into the soft caress. Heero's eyes darkened into deep midnight pools. His voice was deep and husky. Relena shivered again as his warm breath met her tingling lips.

"Headache? Nausea? Dizziness? Tinnitus? Amnesia? Loss of consciousness?" he demanded.

"No," she breathed, rocking forward onto her toes, drawn to his warmth like a magnet.

"Good. Then you're just bleeding and dripping water all over my floor," he responded brusquely as he raised his right hand into the air between them.

Relena snapped out of her Heero-induced haze and blinked in shock. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but for once she was at a loss for words as she stared at the red staining his fingers. Heero used her silence to his advantage, gently but firmly steering her up a short flight of stairs to the bathroom. He pushed her inside and closed the door, calling through the wood, "You don't have a concussion so take a shower and warm up. Then I'll bandage your head."

Relena listened to his retreating footsteps and sighed before starting the water and peeling her soaked clothes from her clammy skin. She stepped under the warm, soothing shower spray, pulled the opaque frosted glass door shut behind her, and leaned wearily against the tile wall.

So much for the non-existent romantic moment.

Five minutes later, when Relena emerged from the shower, her wet clothes were gone. A large white T-shirt and a pair of gray cotton pajama pants had been set in their place on the sink. After a moment's debate and minimal blushing at the thought of demanding her uncomfortably wet undergarments from Heero, Relena decided that going commando really would be the best decision.

Heero glanced up from his mopping when Relena exited his bathroom in a cloud of steam. He froze. Although he would never admit it, she looked ridiculously adorable trudging down the stairs in his too large clothes with a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. He would also never admit to the faint possessive thrill that he got because she was wearing his clothes.

Relena shuffled self-consciously under his scrutiny. She was quite sure that she looked like an idiot or at the very least a child playing dress-up. The pants were so long that she was walking on them with just the tippy toes of her bare feet visible under the extra material. The shirt completely covered her hips, and its short sleeves came to her elbows, making her feel like she was wearing a tent. A soft, warm, comforting tent but a tent nonetheless.

Heero motioned her over to the now bare couch and leaned his mop against the wall. Relena stiffened as he unwound the towel from her head, letting the soaked golden strands fall freely down her back. A muffled squeak of protest escaped her when he began to vigorously towel the tips dry. He swiftly moved up the length of her hair, his movements becoming gentler as he got closer to her scalp.

The silent man gently patted the skin around her injury with a mostly dry corner of the towel. He pulled her damp hair aside and casually studied the bruised cut high on her temple. Most of the bleeding had stopped, and the wound was clean now so he could bandage it without fear of infection. But just to be on the safe side, he lightly applied some antiseptic from a medical kit on the floor.

Relena made a soft sound of protest at the sting, and Heero unconsciously soothed her. Suddenly heavy eyelids slowly lowered over darkening eyes as he blew on her skin. He had just enough presence of mind to direct his breath away from her wound lest he encourage germs to grow and ended up sighing into her ear. The warmth of Relena's body scorched his lips, and when she turned her head to face him, he found himself drifting in the gentle waters of her questioning ocean blue eyes...

And crashing back to reality when she breathed his name just a hairsbreadth from his own slightly parted lips. He pulled away from her, bandaged the abrasion with clinical efficiency, and abruptly left her alone in the room with the curt excuse that he was going to get some soup. Relena flinched as the door slammed behind him.

Once in the relative sanctuary of his tiny kitchen, Heero collapsed against the firmly closed door. He closed his eyes, covered his face with one upraised arm, and took several deep calming breaths while mentally cursing his damn male body's predictable and natural response to Relena. Which was to say that she still unsettled him after so many years.

He did not want to kiss it and make it better just like he had not had the strange and irrational urge to lick the raindrops from her face earlier. That tight feeling that had clutched his chest when he realized that the bleeding girl in his arms was Relena was not worry and certainly not fear. He had not been relieved when he realized that she didn't have a concussion because he had not been worried. And he would not think about the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under his clothes and that when she sat in front of the lamp just right he could practically see her every curve silhouetted against that shirt. Furthermore he denied the existence of denial.

Now firmly composed and more than a little wry, Heero took a waiting container of chicken soup from the microwave and dumped the contents into a mug with a timber wolf logo. He returned to his living room to find Relena curled up on the couch staring at the rain hitting the window. She glanced at him warily from the corner of her eye, and her lips twitched as he shrugged and had the grace to look self-conscious. He handed her the mug, turned off the one light source in the room, and sat down next to her. Relena's free hand brushed against his then retreated. She had accepted his wordless apology, and they settled into a slightly awkward silence in the gray light from the window.

Heero finally interrupted the rhythmic sound of the rain. "I called Une while you were in the shower. She's sent a car to get you. It should be here soon."

Relena blinked and looked at him over the rim of the mug. She smiled and murmured softly, "Thank you, Heero."

Her companion grunted in acknowledgement, and they sat comfortably in the sudden quiet, somehow closer than they had been before, their shoulders touching. The rain lessoned to a light drizzle as they sat together, and Heero left his seat on the couch to watch for the expected car.

Relena gazed at his back for a long moment before turning the empty mug in her hands idly. Her fingers gently traced over the wolf's form as she admired the smooth blend of grays and browns in its fur.

Strong.

Fast.

A fierce fighter.

Unbelievably gentle.

Beautiful.

Proud.

Intense.

Wild.

A lone wolf... like Heero. But wolves were meant to be pack animals.

Loyal...

Sudden realization hit Relena, and she stared at Heero as he opened the door and picked up the shopping bag containing her dried clothes. She walked obediently to his side when he told her it was time to go but stopped on his doorstep. She turned to face him, ignoring the dark car pulling up to the curb. He met her gaze squarely, impassively, his face carefully wiped of all expression.

Relena knew that he was sorry to see her go anyway. She smiled softly and affectionately as she mused aloud, "Don't you think it's odd how we keep finding our way back to one another over and over again?"

Heero's eyes widened when she leaned up and brushed her lips against his cheek. Her hand ran lightly down his arm before she removed the bag from his suddenly weak grip and closed his fingers back around the mug. Then she darted away, and brushed past the silent suit-clad bodyguard holding the car door for her.

Heero watched as the car pulled away, taking Relena with it. He slowly turned to go back into his house when her voice suddenly stopped him. He turned around almost eagerly. Relena was hanging out of the window, her hair whipping into her face.

"Heero, what about your clothes?"

He shrugged and a rare half-smile graced his features as he called back, "Just keep them for now. You can give them back the next time we meet."

His response seemed to stun Relena for a moment. Then her face broke into a dazzling smile, and she waved cheerfully before disappearing into the car once again.

This time Heero stayed and watched until she turned the corner and was gone. He wandered back into his suddenly empty home and absently rinsed out the mug in his hands before refilling it with milk. He abruptly noticed the unread newspaper resting on his kitchen table. An oversized picture of Relena in full diplomatic garb adorned its cover beneath bold text announcing her visit.

Heero's eyes focused on the familiar blue eyes, blonde hair, and classic features as he raised the mug in a silent toast.

Over and over again.

Always.