In the Silence 6 (CWxRP NC17)

[Jannbond]

In the Silence 6


Voices. Past the feel of Relena's fingers on his skin, the warmth of her lips, and the exquisitely painful need, he could hear voices. He nearly didn't have the will to wrench away and orient himself. It was like pulling your head above water after starving for air for so long. The sight of her flushed face, her confusion as she blinked eyes so clear, so direct they nearly cut into a place he hadn't allowed anyone to step in so long, he felt like forgetting, like drowning in her and never surfacing again.

He felt when he touched her, but wanting wasn't enough. It would never be enough. There was no basis for anything to be built on physical need. It was a shallow reaction of the body, something overcome with distraction or stimulation to the contrary, such as a stinging cold shower. He damned himself for losing control, for coming to her and giving what could never be taken back. Whatever might have been, was spoiled. He would forever remember the taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her skin, so soft, like water on silk. And he would hate both what he had, and couldn't have.

"Forgive me," he murmured. "I have treated you like a common prostitute."

Flinching as though struck, Relena jerked herself from the circle of his arms. It was easy. He wasn't holding her any longer. There was no heat in his eyes, only that endless, cold sheen of black, hiding everything and offering nothing. She knew he felt. No man that touched like that, kissed like that, had ice in his veins. But he could hurt. She had never met a person that knew exactly what weapons to use and where to strike so that it stung the most.

Torn between humiliation, shame, and the stirring of anger, Relena reacted. She slapped him across the face.

When he looked to her, his eyes were glittering with unspent temper and banked desire. His lips were thinned, and his cheek bore the mottled red-white of the blow.

"I still don't see why we had to take the stairs," a protesting voice issued from the corridor behind them.

"A lover of peace such as yourself resorting to violence?" Wufei intoned coolly.

"It's exercise. It's better for you than taking the elevator," a softer voice intoned with quiet authority.

The color was slowly draining from her face. She struggled to remain impassive. She had dealt with people far more hostile than he was. "That was uncalled for, Wufei."

"Since when did you turn into such a health nut?" The first shot back, a faint hitch to his breathing.

"Was it?" Wufei returned, rebuffing her, pushing her words aside.

"Hm. Consider yourself lucky I was willing to swim at such a late hour," the other dismissed.

"You know it was. I didn't start this." Relena hated the way it hurt.

"Hey you know me, the party never stops," the more animated of the two noted with exorbitant cheer.

Wufei's eyes narrowed. So she thought to remind him of his weakness. "You did."

Relena saw them as they left the stairwell. Wufei heard them. Neither made any effort to acknowledge that. There were things to be settled here between them. For now, the world outside this might as well not exist.

"Forgive me. It's weak to cry, isn't it Wufei? It's weak to feel, to want, to need. That's fine. You live your life believing that. I don't need... I don't want someone who is afraid to live," she threw the words at him like poison, knowing they were cruel, but wanting him to bleed as she was bleeding.

He laughed. A stark, harsh sound with no mirth. "You take for granted I even want you."

And that was it. He saw it in the way she shattered before she closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was nothing. She was once again that self-possessed woman, projecting composure and poise few could rival. He hated himself for the pain that had been there, even as a part of him wanted her to hurt. Like Meiran. Shrugging her accusations away, ignoring her had never been enough. It hadn't until he wounded her, until he made her bleed.

Duo stopped just short of reaching them, a greeting dying on his lips when he saw the way they were staring at one another. Heero was not far after, and then Quatre and Trowa. Quatre hated the pain he heard in the silence.

"Are we interrupting something?" Duo finally ventured, his tone erring on the side of caution for once.

Wufei's reply was so precise, so final, it drove into Relena like the sharp point of a needle. "No."

"No," she agreed on a breath, "we're finished here." And with dignity, she gathered up her things and walked, not ran, to the elevator.

Jaw taut, Wufei refused to watch her. Everything was tight inside, as if the slightest touch would unravel it and take him with it. There was no elation, no relief. Only loathing so intense, it was a wonder he could stand himself. He wasn't 14 any longer, and Relena wasn't Meiran. Ten years, and nothing had changed. He was still running from his feelings, letting fear rule him, and losing because of it.

There was the shift of fabric behind him.

His hand snapped up. "Say nothing."

Without sparing them another glance, he grabbed his robe and stalked in the opposite direction of Relena. He took the stairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She didn't cry. Considering, she was proud of herself. There were things of more importance in her life than whether or not a man as deliberately cruel as Wufei wanted her. It hurt. It undermined her confidence, left her feeling stripped and raw, less of a woman. Rejection of any kind would do that to you. So she would do what she always did, push past the difficulty and keep going.

In the morning, forgoing the need for bodyguards, she left. Not caring what anyone made of that, feeling as if she had been watched over too long, she boarded the shuttle and went home. She didn't say good-bye to Wufei, or attempt to leave him any sort of message. To her way of thinking, they said everything left to be said the night before. There was no point in pursuing a man that thought she was a woman without moral, and who was too afraid to return what she had to offer. She had spent too many years doing the same with Heero.

Sighing, she slipped her shoes off at the door and stepped over the pile of mail waiting for her. It would keep until later. So would the blinking messages on her answering machine, and the unfolded laundry on the couch. Had anyone known she lived here alone, without any sort of help, doing her own laundry, her own cleaning, and her own cooking they might have laughed, or shook their heads in disbelief.

She had grown up with servants. They were a nice luxury, but for an apartment as small as this one, it was better if she took care of it herself. There simply wasn't room for very many people.

She had done it on purpose. This was her haven away from everything. Hers, and hers alone. As selfish as it sounded, she didn't intend to share it with anyone. Least of all someone intending to do what she was perfectly capable of herself.

Before sinking onto the sofa cushions she started the coffee machine, a habit she had picked up after early mornings became regular. It was getting to the point where she was dependant upon it. Sometime soon maybe, when she had the willpower, she intended to wean herself from the addiction. For now, she would let it have its way while she half-heartedly folded laundry and thought about the press conference scheduled for tomorrow. She would need more coffee if she intended to stay up well past midnight writing the speech; now would definitely not be the moment to go noble and give it up.

There would be plenty of time to think of what she would say, how she would propose a change, and then how she would work toward getting the President to agree after her first cup. That would take time, patience, and no small amount of work on her part. The weight of the responsibility rarely beat out the excitement. This was her fight, where she had always been able to make a difference. Not a burden, and never a regret. For Relena, there would be no regret, only learning.

Confident in that, she finished the laundry and went to check on the coffee.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Wufei stood patiently in Lady Une's office while she finished her phone conversation. The office, reflecting the no-nonsense personality of the inhabitant, was done sparsely and with little thought to decoration. The only picture it held was a small portrait of Mariemaia. It rested on the desk, holding a smiling girl filled with the wonder and innocence of youth. For Wufei, it was a startling contrast to the girl who had once hungered for world domination, and whose orders he had followed in search of his own answers.

The headquarters itself, where he came every morning but his allotted off days (both of which were forced on him), was considered the main office. Since its conception, the Preventers had branched out much like the police forces of old. They could not, after all, possibly expect to solve the problems of the entire world. As one of the original few, he chose to stay here, serving under Lady Une with Sally Po as his assigned partner. Their working relationship was stable and respectful, not without its difficulties, but certainly strong in skill.

Lady Une placed the phone back in its cradle, straightened some papers on her desk, and looked at him.

"I spoke with the President," she informed him at length.

He said nothing, only waited.

"He feels my reprimand of your conduct during the hostage situation was not severe enough. He suggests I give you two weeks suspension. When you come back, you're to receive the necessary training."

Stiffening, imagining the humiliation, the failure, and the boredom, Wufei answered tightly, "Two weeks?"

Apparently disliking his tone, she answered, "Consider yourself lucky. He wanted a month, but I managed to talk him down. In this case, I'm afraid I must agree with him. We aren't God. We shouldn't be handling things we aren't trained to handle. Someone innocent could get hurt in the process."

"I see." His tone was cold. So even his inflexible superior could be persuaded to abandon her position when it meant the approval of a higher source.

"He's the President, Wufei. His support of our actions are essential to our livelihood."

"But I am not," he finished, not needing her to continue.

Exasperated, she leaned forward. "I didn't say that."

"There was no need." Then, bowing, he said curtly, "Fine. I accept this punishment." What other choice did he have? Fight it, and he would lose his job. Losing his job left him with nothing. It was pathetic to think of how empty his life was outside of this. It was his life. Up until now, that hadn't mattered. Faced with the sting of being punished like a child, it was glaringly apparent.

Temper fraying some, she snapped, "It isn't a punishment. You aren't losing your job, just merely being given some time to think before you jump into a situation you aren't fully trained for."

"Had I not," he replied stiffly, "that child and many others might have died."

"I'm well aware of that! You have to face that had someone with more training handled this, Wufei, that the terrorist might also have survived."

It was as if she walked inside of him, grasped the words he repeated to himself so often, and was now flinging them at him as proof of what he already knew. He saved the hostage, and lost the terrorist. He didn't need two weeks without work to tell him that.

There had never been a missed day of work for sickness or otherwise, nor a vacation taken in all his seven years here. Being sick wasn't a option he allowed, and a vacation by himself hadn't been appealing. He couldn't see taking it now.

"Think of it as a vacation."

An unpaid vacation, he thought with no small amount of irritation. Time alone, to himself, where he would think of things work left him with no free moments to ponder.

"It's not a vacation. It's a leave of absence, and everyone will be perfectly aware of the reason."

"Fine, Wufei, call it what you will. My decision stands. And don't take any paperwork with you when you go. You are to be completely away from work."

The faintest hint of a smile crossed his lips. A decision not without influence. Before the involvement of the President, she was intent on letting him continue working. He could never stand politics. The entire world was a marionette with the master at the strings, pulling to change the course when it so pleased him. Since he could not play the game, nor his partner for that matter (one reason why he respected her as he did), his missions were never diplomatic in nature. After all, one couldn't allow a person comfortable with speaking their mind into a room full of people in self-denial.

Apparently finding no comment forthcoming, she picked up a pen and bowed her head, focusing on one of many pieces of paper. Frustrated, annoyed, and very nearly pissed, Wufei turned, walked stiffly from the office, and down the hall, ignoring anyone he passed. Let them think what they would. They were all perfectly aware of his involvement in the incident at the airport, and he doubted anyone needed a blow-by of the meeting with Lady Une. Not that he would have offered had they asked. He would easily tell them all, his partner included, to mind their own business. Persistence would get his full blessings that they go straight to Hell.

Since he needed things that were in his desk, he was forced to suffer further scrutiny when he entered the room filled with small cubicles, completely packed with agents. Sally Po's was on the other side of his, which meant if luck was with him, he wouldn't have to talk to her before he left.

As it was, some higher power decided it was amusing to strike him while already down.

Upon entering the room, he was greeted with a variety of expressions, varying from sympathetic to curious to pleased. His popularity with some of the other agents was less than impressive, so that was to be expected. His personality left him able to work with few people, as he would not tolerate incompetence or just plain idiocy. That he felt the need to relay shortcomings to said agents was a constant source of frustration to both his partner and his superior.

"Hey, Mr. Chang, sorry to hear what happened." The comment came from behind him. Half-way to his desk, he paused and turned, favoring the young agent with a bland expression.

Bent on impressing all other agents when arriving, this particular Preventer had gone so far as to find out the likes of everyone so that he could bring them gifts. Wufei respected work ethic. There were precious few people willing to do what was expected of them and then beyond. What he did not respect, however, were such overt attempts to secure their regard. The last incident, the one that finally forced him to explain to the boy exactly what he thought, was when the agent had brought him a sword. A very expensive sword.

After explaining to the Preventer that the only way to achieve his esteem was to do his job as he was trained to, he had forced the boy to take the sword back. Since that time, the agent had not brought a gift to anyone. He also studiously went out of his way to avoid Wufei. Sally had informed him it was because he had been too hard on the boy. Wufei was of the opinion he hadn't, but unless he had an entire day, arguing with Sally was a waste of time.

"Yes, and what did you hear?" He asked evenly, fairly certain that Sally had stood up by this time and was watching with avid interest.

Eyes darting around the office as if looking for support, he hedged. "Well..."

"As I expected. You simply wished to hear me tell you. Nice try."

Flushing a dull red, the Preventer ducked his head and pretended rapt fascination with the magazine held upside down in his hands.

Sally was waiting for him. Giving her a cursory glance, he unlocked the drawer and began gathering odds and ends, tempted for a second to take paperwork with him despite Lady Une's warning.

"So, are they sticking me with an incompetent?" Sally teased, resting her hip against the edge of his desk.

"I wouldn't know."

"Ah. Are you going to let me come over and take you out for dinner now and then?" She continued, lowering her voice so as not to feed the office gossip. Wufei felt her efforts were in vain.

"My social calendar is filled. Let me get back to you," he returned dryly, shoving the drawer back in.

"Right. I'll just show up whenever."

Sally was nothing if not persistent.

"Fine. You run the risk of not finding me home then. I won't stay for your benefit."

"Oh, thank you. You're such a dear friend."

Rather than answer, he turned his back to her and began walking away.

Evidentially unimpressed with that, Sally called out across the office. "Fine, don't say good-bye!"

Gritting his teeth, he refused to look back. Trust Sally to act as if it were nothing. It wasn't her that was being forced into a suspension. He suspected that if she was, she would have been as displeased with it as he was. She liked to work as much as he did. Yet, she was very fond of telling him all about her extensive social life. By now, he had learned to turn a deaf ear and let her talk until she wore herself out.

In his car, he sat unmoving, hands resting on the wheel. There was no where for him to go but his empty apartment. He spent the better part of 12 hours at work everyday. Coming home meant finishing up paperwork, eating, and then sleeping. There was nothing else.

Sighing, he leaned back, rubbing at his eyes.

For doing something, he had been penalized. What if he had stood by and watched while David had killed anyone close enough and then himself? What would the President and Lady Une have made of it then? It was a damn tight line to walk, and even with this suspension, he still would have done the same. Better that the people who survived had, than the man responsible for the situation.

He wasn't certain what he disliked more, the humiliation of suspension, or being made an example of. Lady Une had to appease the President, the President had to placate the public. Would they have all liked it better had he let everyone die? David could have killed any number of people. Relena included. After all that she had done, surely they couldn't be so narrow minded as to wish her death over the terrorists. As he was sitting in this car now, with two weeks of nothing ahead of him, he already knew the answer to that.

Relena. He had no desire to think about her. Since last night, however, it seemed she was always there, lurking in the back of his mind. He knew he had made a mistake touching her, kissing her. It was harder to forget. These two weeks weren't going to make it any easier on him either. But he would. He had done many things. Ignoring one woman shouldn't prove any more difficult.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rubbing at the ache in her neck, Relena sighed, eyeing the growing pile of crumpled paper on her floor. If she was at all intelligent, she knew, she would hire someone to write her speeches for her. She couldn't, however, give a speech with words that weren't her own. It seemed somehow dishonest. That, and she was stubborn enough to believe she could say what she wanted better than anyone else.

"Almost there," she murmured. "Two-thirds of the way finished at least."

Unless she found something else she wasn't particularly fond of.

Ending a sentence, she looked longingly in the direction of the kitchen. It had been over six hours since she last had anything to eat. Time went extremely quickly when she worked like this. She almost needed someone to tell her when to stop, because dawn was a few short hours from making its presence known. As it was, midnight had come and gone.

Craving a break, she rose, stretched cramped muscles, and grabbed a much needed snack. Letting a yawn run its course, she flipped the TV on and picked up the news. It was global, so it brought her current events from all over the world. In her position, it was a very nice channel to have. She needed to be up on everything all of the time.

Falling bonelessly into her favorite chair, she caught the segment as it shifted.

"... And in other news, Preventer Chang Wufei was suspended due to his actions in the recent shooting at the Senatorial Point airport. How long is undisclosed, but we did manage to confirm that he has not been dismissed, and at present there are no plans to do so." At that conclusion, the camera switched to a reporter on the street.

Somewhat startled, Relena watched the rest of the news broadcast. As was typical, half of the people interviewed were for it, the other against.

"Suspended..." She knew it was at the request of the President. No one else could have gotten Lady Une to comply.

Feeling a twinge of pity for him, she clamped it down before it bloomed. Wufei was certainly capable of taking care of himself. He didn't need her pity, as he had so informed her.

Faintly annoyed because he had managed to intrude even without her thinking of him, she turned the TV off with a snap and went to finish her speech.

She never should have turned the thing on in the first place.