D?j? vu [part 1] (AU, 1 x R, PG-13 for now)
Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 9:35 pm
Yesh, finally, I'm posting this fic... 
Uh, which theme am I going for? Just read on and see.
This is supposed to be a one-shot thing, but it was so long I had to cut it intp two parts. The lemon is on the second part.
And Rose, why can't we edit stuff in this forum? O_o
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. Bandai owns it. Bow to them, you fools! *sorry, too much sugar*
Author?s notes: *sigh* I couldn?t stay away from this one. It?s been so long since I wrote for hetero audiences. Anyway, this two-part is a prequel/teaser of sorts to an upcoming AU 1 x R fic of mine, Crimson Drowning. If the title hasn?t clued you in, it?s about vampires and vampire hunters. Yes, I am a vampire fan. No, I?m not a vampire.
Pairings: Heero x Relena and slight Duo x Hilde.
Warnings: Lemony-lime in next part. And fluff. (OMG. I wrote fluff! I?ve never written fluff!)
Summary: A.U. Heero, Hilde, Duo are vampire hunters sent undercover to a small town. Heero?s cover is working in a bookshop, and Duo suggests they decorate the store for the holiday season. And where does Relena enter in the story? I guess you?ll have to read to find out. ^_^ Oh, this is mostly done in Heero?s POV.
Anyways, just a note, the town where the story is set it has an unusual statue in the public park. It?s a young woman dressed in flowing robes, caught in the embrace of an angel?an angel with a scythe.
For Caliborn and Andrea, my UA co-conspirators! *huggles Cali and Andrea*
Andrea: Does this mean I?ll get my plushie?
Melrose: Yeah. Yeah.
D?j? vu [part 1]
When sunlight glows upon the flowers,
Or ripples down the dancing sea:
Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,
Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.
Within the breath of autumn woods,
Within the winter silences:
Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,
O Master of impieties!
The ardor of red flame is thine,
And thine the steely soul of ice:
Thou poisonest the fair design
Of nature, with unfair device.
---Excerpts from The Dark Angel, by Lionel Jackson
Snow and darkness have fallen over the town of St. George.
While most people would watch the millions of glittering snowflakes fall sitting on a comfortable chair near the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate or warmed cider, Heero sat in a tall, weathered, old stool in a cold, dark corner of the cashier?s booth, slowly sipping his coffee, made the way he liked it?black, with just a tiny hint of cinnamon in it.
Beyond his frosty picture window, the world was white, gray, and black, the monotony broken only by the blinking Christmas lights Duo had installed earlier, their red glow casting crimson shadows on the pristine snow.
White, gray, black, and red. The colors of truth and justice, the colors of life and death.
And at the public park several meters from his bookstore, the maiden continued her eternal struggles from the angel, whose unyielding grip still held her prisoner in a cold embrace.
?How long are you going to sit there, stare at the window and drink coffee while thinking happy thoughts, Heero??
Eyes narrowing into tiny slits of blue ice, Heero cocked his head to his side to find Duo grinning at him. Duo had a wreath of hollies and evergreens about his neck. Beside him, Hilde was busy stringing popcorn into a garland to be wound around the Christmas tree, the popcorn that Duo had been steadily filching and eating until Hilde jabbed the back of his hand with her needle.
?Ow! Hilde!? He clutched his hand, wincing at the sight of blood. ?I?m bleeding!?
?Stop eating the popcorn, Duo,? she said, not bothering to look up. ?If you don?t stop eating the popcorn, I?m going to cut off your braid.? She held up her scissors, the sharp blades gleaming wickedly in the light. ?I?m sure I could find a lot of ways to turn it into a decoration.?
Duo?s hand immediately flew to this long, thick braid and held it as far away from Hilde and her sharp scissors as he could manage. ?Not the braid. Don?t touch the braid.?
Heero watched their antics with a dispassionate eye. What had possessed him to allow Hilde and Duo to decorate the bookstore for Christmas he?d never know. He had not observed Christmas since his parents were murdered fifteen years ago. Only once.
?I know you don?t like Christmas, but, if you?d like?could you spend Christmas with me? I?d really like to spend Christmas with you, Heero.?
His grip on his mug tightened for a moment, knuckles turning white, and then he relaxed. It was an old memory, it couldn?t harm him anymore. He absently tugged the too-tight sleeves of his worn cream-colored sweater, and then stopped when Duo shouted.
?And look what we have here!? Duo crowed. In Duo?s hand was a medium-sized sprig of mistletoe. Duo smiled slyly at Hilde. ?I didn?t think you?d get one of these. If you really wanted to kiss me??
?Another word and the braid gets it.? She eyed the mistletoe warily. ?I didn?t get that when I went shopping for the decorations. The old man at the store must have put in with my purchases.?
?Sure.? Duo?s grin grew wider. ?I wonder why he did that, though.?
Snatching the mistletoe from Duo?s hand, Hilde studied it for a moment, staring at its leathery green leaves and sticky white berries. ?Professor D talked about the mistletoe once. It?s a symbol of fertility. She says it?s a very sinister plant, though. It?s a parasite, its berries are poisonous, and according to Norse myths, a part of the mistletoe was used in the arrow that killed the white god Baldur.?
?Really? Didn?t know that. Maybe I could write an article about it. Come on,? Duo urged, taking the mistletoe from her hands with a sharp tug. ?Let?s hang it on the beam near the door. Then everyone who goes into the store has to kiss!?
?Oh, Duo,? Hilde said, exasperated. ?If it makes you happy, just hang it and be done with it.?
?Aren?t you going to help me??
?Do you really want me to hurt you??
Laughing, Duo turned to Heero. ?What about you, Heero? Don?t you want to help me hang this? I?d give you a kiss if you do.?
?Don?t be absurd, Maxwell.? Heero glanced at the mistletoe just once, then turned back to watch the snow. His fingers tightened their grip on the mug again. Old memories.
Duo sighed mournfully. ?Can?t you take joke even on Christmas Eve? And my name is Duo, not Maxwell. Why do you keep calling us by our last names?? When Heero didn?t reply, Duo sighed again. ?Fine. Be Mr. Scrooge. Don?t blame me if your ghosts come haunting back.?
?Don?t press your luck,? Hilde warned, flicking a quick glance at Heero.
Sniffling, Duo went to the front door, took a chair to stand on, climbed on it, and hung the mistletoe on one of the wooden beams. ?There. It doesn?t seem right though. I?m supposed to kiss someone under the mistletoe.?
?You could kiss the chair,? Hilde said with a straight face. She looked at mistletoe. ?Professor D also said something about that tradition. We have it wrong. The correct way to kiss under the mistletoe is to kiss underneath it while plucking one of the berries. When all the berries are gone, there will be no more kissing underneath it.?
Heero glanced sharply at her. Something about her words seemed familiar, somehow. As if he?d heard them before.
The memory came to him, sharp and unbidden. He was eighteen again, in that bookstore near his high school that he always went to after classes were over.
He found Relena among the tall, dusty, bookshelves, idly looking at the books. The gnarled, kindly old owner who always greeted Heero whenever he came in was nowhere in sight. Looking around, he saw that the old man had put up various Christmas decorations, with the wreath of hollies and pine hung on the window and the Christmas tree by the cashier?s booth.
They were shopping for Christmas gifts, or more accurately, Relena was. ?It?s tradition,? she had said when Heero scowled at the thought of shopping. ?And traditions must always be observed.?
Heero had thought of the gift he was going to give her soon, something that had nothing to do with Christmas. He had bought it because it was tradition to give that gift, so he supposed Relena was right that traditions must always be observed.
?I?ve always wondered where you spent your time after school,? she said as she pulled out one leather-bound book and carefully leafed through the brittle yellow pages. The books in the store were mostly old, antique of sorts, fragile to touch; yet, the old man never discouraged people from browsing through the pages. ?You always seemed lonely, but you didn?t look the type who spent his hours doing nothing.?
?You wondered where I spent my afternoons?? Heero asked, puzzled.
Relena made a face, and then laughed. ?Of course! I was very interested with whatever you?re doing. I?ve been watching you for a while. God, I sound like a stalker.?
Heero almost smiled. If Relena knew how long he?s been watching and observing her these past months, she would think he was the stalker in their relationship.
?Ah, you?re here. As expected,? a dry voice said from behind one of the shelves. An old, wrinkled man, stepped out, and looked at Heero with a smile. It was the owner. He frowned a little when he saw Relena. ?Well, this is unexpected. You always come here alone, and Miss Relena?s usually much earlier.?
Relena blushed as Heero stared at her. ?You?ve been here?? Relena had not mentioned anything about coming here at all.
?You?re not the only one who likes old books in this town,? she retorted. ?Besides, didn?t I say I was very interested??
?Miss Relena is my best customer,? the old man chimed in, smiling at them. ?She buys five or so books every visit.?
?I thought I was your best customer,? Heero muttered under his breath. Relena giggled, ignoring the scowl on his face. She turned to the old man, and said, ?Mr. Pagan, do you have any books on folklore and the occult? I tried looking for it at the library, but apparently a puritanical librarian burned some of them in a fit of misguided religious ?purging? of the library of ?heretical? books.?
Heero glanced at Relena in surprise at her choice of books. Pagan nodded sympathetically. ?Ah. I remember now. I heard Miss Khusrenada was confined in a hospital for that. Tragic, really. She was a wonderful woman. It was that husband of hers. But I digress. Wait here.? Murmuring to himself, he went over to the back of the store.
?What will you need the books on the occult for?? Heero asked as soon as Pagan was out of earshot. Heero knew Relena had a passion for folklore and mythology, but this was the first time he heard her on the occult.
?For research,? she said simply. She laughed when she saw the expression on his face. ?Don?t worry, I?m not planning to be a witch or anything. It?s just for research.?
He relaxed, and gave her a small smile. ?Looking for Necronomicon??
?Stop teasing. You know as well as I do that the Necronomicon was a mythical book made famous by Aleister Crowley and by H.P. Lovecraft. There is no evidence that it exists at all.?
?Ah, here they are!? Pagan announced. Cradled in his arms were three, thick, black books, topped by two small, thin ones. He carefully laid them on the counter table.
Relena took one of the thick black books in her hand, and ran a finger on its dusty, leathery cover. When she was about to open it, Pagan?s hand shot out and grabbed her wrists. ?Careful,? he said, looking at Relena?s surprised face. ?According to my source these books, covers and pages, are made out of human skin. The ink, apparently, is of human blood. Books like this are quite fragile to handle. Human skin doesn?t really age and hold ink very well.? Pagan looked very solemn as he spoke.
Heero?s own skin crawled. But Relena appeared unperturbed, and opened the book without hesitation. She flipped through the pages rapidly, and all Heero could see was a reddish-brown blur of writings and drawings. Then she shut it with a dull thud. ?How much?? Relena asked.
?Relena?? Heero began, ?you can?t buy that. They?re made of human??
To his annoyance, Relena and Pagan both laughed. ?Oh, Heero. Don?t be like that. Pagan?s just kidding. Of course they aren?t made of human skin. They?re just your run-of-the-mill spell books and treatises on the occult. Completely harmless.? She grinned at Pagan, then leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. ?He?s a very serious person, isn?t he? No sense of humor at all.?
?I heard that.?
?I know.? She flashed him a smile, and then faced Pagan. She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed him her credit card. ?I?m taking them all.?
Pagan took the card. ?Will I also be including here the reservations you made last week??
?Yes. They?re for Christmas gifts.? She flickered a quick glance over her shoulder at Heero, looking just a little guilty of something. Heero frowned at her, puzzled, but she only gave him her most charming smile as an answer. Then her expression changed, and she looked serious.
?I know you don?t like Christmas, but, if you?d like?could you spend Christmas with me? I?d really like to spend Christmas with you, Heero.?
Heero stared at her for a moment. Christmas. He had observed Christmas since his parents were killed. The memories had been too strong, the emotions still fresh. Even now, when he thought they could no longer touch him, they were still there, unwilling to let go.
But looking at Relena, standing before him, a pleading expression in her blue eyes, he found that he could not refuse.
Heero grunted, then shrugged. ?Fine. I?ll be there.? It took his breath away when he saw her reaction. Relena?s eyes widened, and her lips parted as if to say something, then she smiled, her whole face brightening with joy. ?Thank you,? she finally said, glancing away when Pagan loudly cleared his throat to hand her the receipt.
After a few minutes, the books properly packed and bundled, Heero (who was carrying the books despite Relena?s protests) and Relena walked towards the door to leave. He took her hand in his, which made her jump a little. He had never taken her hand in public before. She knew Heero wasn?t up to much public displays of affection.
But before they could leave, Pagan called out, ?Aren?t you two going to kiss under the mistletoe?? He pointed at a sprig of mistletoe tied on one of the beams above them.
?Oh.? Relena blushed. ?Oh.? She looked at Heero. Heero scowled again, but didn?t let go of her hand. ?We don?t have to do it. It?s a silly custom, anyway. We even got it wrong. The correct way to kiss under the mistletoe is to kiss underneath it while plucking one of the berries. When all the berries are gone, there will be no more kissing underneath it. And??
?Relena?? Heero said, leaning over, stopping Relena in her babbling.
?What??
He kissed her. The kiss was soft, almost chaste, a mere brush of lips, but the touch of heat it gave warmed Heero more than anything today. And as he kissed her, he plucked a berry from the mistletoe.
When the kiss was over, Relena gave him a dazed look, face impossibly red. It would be the first time Heero kissed her in front of other people. Heero decided he liked Relena looking that way, and he should do this more often. ?What was that for?? she asked.
?Traditions must always be observed,? Heero said blandly. Tugging her arm, he gave the smiling Pagan a brief nod before he all but dragged a still-dazed Relena away.
?Speaking of professors, are you talking about the one who teaches the popular folklore course at the university?? Duo?s loud voice cut through Heero?s thoughts, forcing him back to the present.
Hilde nodded. ?Yes. Professor D.?
?Professor D? What kind of name is that? D is short for what? Professor Dracula??
?Dracula?s a guy,? Hilde snapped. ?She?s not.?
?Oooh. Aren?t we being nasty?? Duo muttered under his breath. ?Speaking of the university, did you find out when the blade?s going to arrive??
Hilde shook her head. ?No. Not yet, but I?m working on it.? She let out a sigh. ?The security?s tough on that one. Everyone?s tight-lipped about the details on the blade.?
?I could hack into their computers.?
?You can. But I don?t think they put any details on the blade in the computer.?
The blade. That was part of the reason they were here. Heero didn?t understand why they kept on referring to it as ?the blade?. It was an antique sword with a Toledo blade dating back to the time of the Crusades. What made it more special than most was that the sword once belonged to Vlad Dracul, Prince of Wallachia. Legend has it that before he rode to his final battle, he sent a vassal to give the sword to his son and heir, the then future Prince of Wallachia, Vlad Tepes, more popularly known as Dracula, Lord of the Vampires.
For years, the sword was thought to be lost, like most Dracula relics, but recently, news of its existence came to light. Though no further details were publicly released, a quiet investigation led to St. George?s University?s Center for Folklore Studies, a small university in New England, where the sword was to be donated to them anonymously, and will be in the Center?s museum for display after it has been studied and authenticated.
Apparently, some vampire clans had expressed interest on the sword, and were more that willing to steal and kill for it. They were sent here to make sure the vampires didn?t end up killing or turning anyone, and if possible, take a look at the sword.
?I didn?t think the vamps could be so sentimental about the sword,? Duo muttered.
?The sword belongs to Dracula. The last of the Draculs will be more than willing to kill anyone to get that blade back to his hands. He is the rightful owner of the blade, being the last of Dracula?s line.? Heero said, startling the two when he spoke. ?Whether they get the blade or not is not our concern. Our mission here is to make sure the vampires don?t kill anyone.?
Duo grunted and glanced outside. ?Well, I don?t think we?ll worry about any vampires attacking people in the streets. They?re empty nowadays. Looks like everyone?s staying inside tonight. Again.?
The streets were empty, which was unusual. The streets were never empty during these hours. Before the holiday break, there were still an odd group of drunken students stumbling on the snow-covered road on their way to their apartments or dormitories, singing happily in off-key voices or the occasional neighborhood kids having snowball fights.
Heero and his team had arrived here just a few weeks ago, and for most part, they saw nothing suspicious. It was relatively quiet town, despite having a university in it. Duo joked that it must be because the university offered ?boring? degrees, like anthropology and archeology, and thus attracted the more sedate and ?nerdy? of students. Only the statue of a young woman dressed in flowing robes, caught in the embrace of an angel?an angel with a scythe and dark wings?proved to be unusual?and a little disturbing.
Lately, people have been staying in their houses during the night and mornings, even with Christmas approaching. Heero had expected the clich?d traditions of the Christmas season: the carol singers, frantic shoppers and the equally frantic shopkeepers, the occasional Santa Claus, but so far the town have chosen to observe Christmas with a silent, foreboding air of solemnity.
Duo glanced outside again. ?Maybe the street?s empty because it?s Christmas Eve. The students are already home for the holidays or sunbathing in some sunny tropical island like Hawaii. The neighborhood kids are with their families, having Christmas Eve dinner.?
?We still don?t have any proof of vampiric activity in this place. Except for the two cases of tuberculosis in the hospital, nothing untoward has happened recently. I don?t know why we bothered coming here anyway.? Duo had wanted to stay in New York City, where he had a job in the NY Times. Now he was reduced to working in the local newspaper, a job, according to Duo, that had the interest level equivalent to staring at mud.
?That?s true, but until Trowa tells us to discontinue the mission, we?re not moving from here, and we?re going to continue with our respective tasks,? Hilde said. ?Suck it up, Duo.?
Scowling, Duo muttered, ?Right. Now can we forget the mission for a while and concentrate on Christmas? We still have decorating to do.?
?You?re the one who started talking about it.?
Duo winced and held up a hand. ?Fine. I surrender. I?m sorry for the mistletoe thing. Let?s just get on with Christmas.? He grinned at Heero, then at Hilde. ?Hey, this would be our first Christmas as a team. Whom do you usually spend Christmas with??
No one, Heero almost said, no one since Relena. He had not cared to observe Christmas after that. The memories had been too strong, the emotions still fresh. Even now, when he thought they could no longer touch him, they were still there, unwilling to let go.
And as Heero glanced at the Christmas decorations in the bookstore, at the mistletoe and the hollies, he knew he would not be able to escape the memories this time.
It was going to be a long, long Christmas.
~*~*~*~
?What?s wrong?? Heero took one of her bare hands in his, entwining their fingers together. His eyes narrowed when he felt how cold and stiff her hand was. He tightened his grip. He and Relena had agreed to meet in a nearby store on the day before Christmas. When he went there he had found her standing outside the store, a troubled look on her face.
?Oh, no. Nothing?s wrong,? Relena said, smiling at him. Relena looked different under the moonlight?pale and beautiful, but the halo of light seemed to crown her in sadness and grief. Snowflakes melted in her hair, a faint blush on her cheeks. Her cream-colored sweater and white skirt contrasted sharply with her dark sable coat, making her look like an angel with black wings.
Heero absently tucked a stray golden lock behind her ear. They stood still for a moment, and then she tugged his hand, urging him forward. ?Let?s go. It?ll get colder soon.?
They walked quietly to Relena?s house, Relena leading the way. Watching with hooded eyes, Heero noted that she seemed preoccupied, glancing neither left or right as they made their way through the snowy streets, a distant look in her eyes. Her sable coat fluttered as a slight breeze passed by.
?Is this the first Christmas you?ll be celebrating after your parents died, Heero??
Heero stared at the back of Relena?s head. Snow continued to fall from the dark sky, dusting Relena?s hair and fur coat with pale white flakes. His hand itched to brush them away. ?Yes.?
?My family died in a fire on Christmas Eve.? She didn?t face him as she spoke, so he could not see her face. ?I wasn?t home. I was still at the church, helping with the cleanup. I was in the Christmas play that year. I played as a lamb, would you believe that??
?A lamb?? Heero frowned, trying to picture Relena as a child, dressed as a lamb. Instead, he saw her coming home, still in her costume, and finding nothing but ashes.
Relena didn?t seem to hear him. ?I miss my family, especially on Christmas. I feel lonely without them, sometimes.? She abruptly stopped walking. ?Do you miss your family, too, Heero??
Heero paused in mid-step. Why did she want to know? Strange she would talk about their respective parents, a topic they rarely discussed, though they were both orphans. She had never asked about his feelings on anything before, most of the time because she already knew what he felt. ?Relena??
?Do you ever get lonely, Heero?? This time, Relena glanced over her shoulder as she asked. She had a strange expression on her face, looking like she was expecting him to answer.
?Not anymore,? Heero finally said after a moment of silence.
Relena laughed. ?I?ll never get a straight answer from you, will I?? She grinned when he scowled at her. ?Oh, well. It was worth a try.? She resumed walking.
Still scowling, he followed her, but they only made a few steps when Relena whirled around, snowflakes dancing in her golden hair. She laid one hand on Heero?s chest and looked up, blue eyes unnaturally bright. Heero controlled a start of surprise when Relena suddenly grabbed his coat?s lapels, pulled him down, and pressed her lips against his.
Ice. Her lips were ice, so cold they almost seemed to burn against his lips. But as the kiss deepened, the ice became fire, and all Heero could feel was heat and warmth.
The kiss was nothing like the one they shared under the mistletoe a few days ago. The kiss was as fierce and demanding as the last kiss had been gentle and chaste.
Relena slowly drew away from the kiss, both of them panting for breath as their lips pulled apart. Then she smiled. ?I love you,? she said softly. ?Thank you for spending Christmas with me.?
Heero touched her cheek. ?Relena?what?s wrong??
?Nothing.? Her smile widened. ?Nothing at all. I?m just?very happy.? She removed her hands from his coat and turned her back to him. ?Let?s go. I?ll still have to cook, you know.?
Frowning, Heero watched her leave. Relena was being very cryptic today. He shoved his hands into his leather jacket?s pockets, feeling a slight thrill of anticipation when one his hands brushed against the velvet-covered box inside one of the pockets.
Suppressing his doubts for now, he started walking and followed Relena.
T.B.C.
Author?s note: Please be reminded that killing the author or injuring her in any way will or might result in the discontinuation of her stories. So hold your horses! And put down your knives! XD
And on a random note, why is it that when I was writing this, I have this feeling that the characters are speaking English with a British accent? How odd.
I so need to work on my atmosphere.
And yes, in the flashbacks, Heero and Relena are already in a relationship. How they ended together is just some of the things you?ll have to wait for in Crimson Drowning to find out.
And I wonder if anyone noted the little clues I put in the story. XD
The poem: Uhm, random poem I put in. It?s a creepy poem. It doesn?t seem to have any connection to the story right now, but one day, I?ll probably find a way to make sense of it. XD
On Dracula?s sword: There is such a sword. The blade was given to Dracula?s father when he was invested with the Order of the Dragon. Local folklore has it that the sword was eventually given to Dracula, along with the medallion/necklace bearing the seal/heraldry of the Order of the Dragon. We don?t know what happened to the sword. It was said to have been found when what was believed to be Dracula?s tomb in Snagov was opened, but was stolen or something. I?m not claiming complete factual accuracy, but I did do a bit of research.
Winter: I live in the Philippines. We do not have snow?all I know about snow comes from movies, books, and various electronic media. I researched as hard as I can about this. If there are any factual inconsistencies, feel free to tell me.
Next part: The lemon. Need I say more?
Comments and Criticism are most welcome and appreciated. Flames will burn.
[/b]
Uh, which theme am I going for? Just read on and see.
This is supposed to be a one-shot thing, but it was so long I had to cut it intp two parts. The lemon is on the second part.
And Rose, why can't we edit stuff in this forum? O_o
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. Bandai owns it. Bow to them, you fools! *sorry, too much sugar*
Author?s notes: *sigh* I couldn?t stay away from this one. It?s been so long since I wrote for hetero audiences. Anyway, this two-part is a prequel/teaser of sorts to an upcoming AU 1 x R fic of mine, Crimson Drowning. If the title hasn?t clued you in, it?s about vampires and vampire hunters. Yes, I am a vampire fan. No, I?m not a vampire.
Pairings: Heero x Relena and slight Duo x Hilde.
Warnings: Lemony-lime in next part. And fluff. (OMG. I wrote fluff! I?ve never written fluff!)
Summary: A.U. Heero, Hilde, Duo are vampire hunters sent undercover to a small town. Heero?s cover is working in a bookshop, and Duo suggests they decorate the store for the holiday season. And where does Relena enter in the story? I guess you?ll have to read to find out. ^_^ Oh, this is mostly done in Heero?s POV.
Anyways, just a note, the town where the story is set it has an unusual statue in the public park. It?s a young woman dressed in flowing robes, caught in the embrace of an angel?an angel with a scythe.
For Caliborn and Andrea, my UA co-conspirators! *huggles Cali and Andrea*
Andrea: Does this mean I?ll get my plushie?
Melrose: Yeah. Yeah.
D?j? vu [part 1]
When sunlight glows upon the flowers,
Or ripples down the dancing sea:
Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,
Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.
Within the breath of autumn woods,
Within the winter silences:
Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,
O Master of impieties!
The ardor of red flame is thine,
And thine the steely soul of ice:
Thou poisonest the fair design
Of nature, with unfair device.
---Excerpts from The Dark Angel, by Lionel Jackson
Snow and darkness have fallen over the town of St. George.
While most people would watch the millions of glittering snowflakes fall sitting on a comfortable chair near the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate or warmed cider, Heero sat in a tall, weathered, old stool in a cold, dark corner of the cashier?s booth, slowly sipping his coffee, made the way he liked it?black, with just a tiny hint of cinnamon in it.
Beyond his frosty picture window, the world was white, gray, and black, the monotony broken only by the blinking Christmas lights Duo had installed earlier, their red glow casting crimson shadows on the pristine snow.
White, gray, black, and red. The colors of truth and justice, the colors of life and death.
And at the public park several meters from his bookstore, the maiden continued her eternal struggles from the angel, whose unyielding grip still held her prisoner in a cold embrace.
?How long are you going to sit there, stare at the window and drink coffee while thinking happy thoughts, Heero??
Eyes narrowing into tiny slits of blue ice, Heero cocked his head to his side to find Duo grinning at him. Duo had a wreath of hollies and evergreens about his neck. Beside him, Hilde was busy stringing popcorn into a garland to be wound around the Christmas tree, the popcorn that Duo had been steadily filching and eating until Hilde jabbed the back of his hand with her needle.
?Ow! Hilde!? He clutched his hand, wincing at the sight of blood. ?I?m bleeding!?
?Stop eating the popcorn, Duo,? she said, not bothering to look up. ?If you don?t stop eating the popcorn, I?m going to cut off your braid.? She held up her scissors, the sharp blades gleaming wickedly in the light. ?I?m sure I could find a lot of ways to turn it into a decoration.?
Duo?s hand immediately flew to this long, thick braid and held it as far away from Hilde and her sharp scissors as he could manage. ?Not the braid. Don?t touch the braid.?
Heero watched their antics with a dispassionate eye. What had possessed him to allow Hilde and Duo to decorate the bookstore for Christmas he?d never know. He had not observed Christmas since his parents were murdered fifteen years ago. Only once.
?I know you don?t like Christmas, but, if you?d like?could you spend Christmas with me? I?d really like to spend Christmas with you, Heero.?
His grip on his mug tightened for a moment, knuckles turning white, and then he relaxed. It was an old memory, it couldn?t harm him anymore. He absently tugged the too-tight sleeves of his worn cream-colored sweater, and then stopped when Duo shouted.
?And look what we have here!? Duo crowed. In Duo?s hand was a medium-sized sprig of mistletoe. Duo smiled slyly at Hilde. ?I didn?t think you?d get one of these. If you really wanted to kiss me??
?Another word and the braid gets it.? She eyed the mistletoe warily. ?I didn?t get that when I went shopping for the decorations. The old man at the store must have put in with my purchases.?
?Sure.? Duo?s grin grew wider. ?I wonder why he did that, though.?
Snatching the mistletoe from Duo?s hand, Hilde studied it for a moment, staring at its leathery green leaves and sticky white berries. ?Professor D talked about the mistletoe once. It?s a symbol of fertility. She says it?s a very sinister plant, though. It?s a parasite, its berries are poisonous, and according to Norse myths, a part of the mistletoe was used in the arrow that killed the white god Baldur.?
?Really? Didn?t know that. Maybe I could write an article about it. Come on,? Duo urged, taking the mistletoe from her hands with a sharp tug. ?Let?s hang it on the beam near the door. Then everyone who goes into the store has to kiss!?
?Oh, Duo,? Hilde said, exasperated. ?If it makes you happy, just hang it and be done with it.?
?Aren?t you going to help me??
?Do you really want me to hurt you??
Laughing, Duo turned to Heero. ?What about you, Heero? Don?t you want to help me hang this? I?d give you a kiss if you do.?
?Don?t be absurd, Maxwell.? Heero glanced at the mistletoe just once, then turned back to watch the snow. His fingers tightened their grip on the mug again. Old memories.
Duo sighed mournfully. ?Can?t you take joke even on Christmas Eve? And my name is Duo, not Maxwell. Why do you keep calling us by our last names?? When Heero didn?t reply, Duo sighed again. ?Fine. Be Mr. Scrooge. Don?t blame me if your ghosts come haunting back.?
?Don?t press your luck,? Hilde warned, flicking a quick glance at Heero.
Sniffling, Duo went to the front door, took a chair to stand on, climbed on it, and hung the mistletoe on one of the wooden beams. ?There. It doesn?t seem right though. I?m supposed to kiss someone under the mistletoe.?
?You could kiss the chair,? Hilde said with a straight face. She looked at mistletoe. ?Professor D also said something about that tradition. We have it wrong. The correct way to kiss under the mistletoe is to kiss underneath it while plucking one of the berries. When all the berries are gone, there will be no more kissing underneath it.?
Heero glanced sharply at her. Something about her words seemed familiar, somehow. As if he?d heard them before.
The memory came to him, sharp and unbidden. He was eighteen again, in that bookstore near his high school that he always went to after classes were over.
He found Relena among the tall, dusty, bookshelves, idly looking at the books. The gnarled, kindly old owner who always greeted Heero whenever he came in was nowhere in sight. Looking around, he saw that the old man had put up various Christmas decorations, with the wreath of hollies and pine hung on the window and the Christmas tree by the cashier?s booth.
They were shopping for Christmas gifts, or more accurately, Relena was. ?It?s tradition,? she had said when Heero scowled at the thought of shopping. ?And traditions must always be observed.?
Heero had thought of the gift he was going to give her soon, something that had nothing to do with Christmas. He had bought it because it was tradition to give that gift, so he supposed Relena was right that traditions must always be observed.
?I?ve always wondered where you spent your time after school,? she said as she pulled out one leather-bound book and carefully leafed through the brittle yellow pages. The books in the store were mostly old, antique of sorts, fragile to touch; yet, the old man never discouraged people from browsing through the pages. ?You always seemed lonely, but you didn?t look the type who spent his hours doing nothing.?
?You wondered where I spent my afternoons?? Heero asked, puzzled.
Relena made a face, and then laughed. ?Of course! I was very interested with whatever you?re doing. I?ve been watching you for a while. God, I sound like a stalker.?
Heero almost smiled. If Relena knew how long he?s been watching and observing her these past months, she would think he was the stalker in their relationship.
?Ah, you?re here. As expected,? a dry voice said from behind one of the shelves. An old, wrinkled man, stepped out, and looked at Heero with a smile. It was the owner. He frowned a little when he saw Relena. ?Well, this is unexpected. You always come here alone, and Miss Relena?s usually much earlier.?
Relena blushed as Heero stared at her. ?You?ve been here?? Relena had not mentioned anything about coming here at all.
?You?re not the only one who likes old books in this town,? she retorted. ?Besides, didn?t I say I was very interested??
?Miss Relena is my best customer,? the old man chimed in, smiling at them. ?She buys five or so books every visit.?
?I thought I was your best customer,? Heero muttered under his breath. Relena giggled, ignoring the scowl on his face. She turned to the old man, and said, ?Mr. Pagan, do you have any books on folklore and the occult? I tried looking for it at the library, but apparently a puritanical librarian burned some of them in a fit of misguided religious ?purging? of the library of ?heretical? books.?
Heero glanced at Relena in surprise at her choice of books. Pagan nodded sympathetically. ?Ah. I remember now. I heard Miss Khusrenada was confined in a hospital for that. Tragic, really. She was a wonderful woman. It was that husband of hers. But I digress. Wait here.? Murmuring to himself, he went over to the back of the store.
?What will you need the books on the occult for?? Heero asked as soon as Pagan was out of earshot. Heero knew Relena had a passion for folklore and mythology, but this was the first time he heard her on the occult.
?For research,? she said simply. She laughed when she saw the expression on his face. ?Don?t worry, I?m not planning to be a witch or anything. It?s just for research.?
He relaxed, and gave her a small smile. ?Looking for Necronomicon??
?Stop teasing. You know as well as I do that the Necronomicon was a mythical book made famous by Aleister Crowley and by H.P. Lovecraft. There is no evidence that it exists at all.?
?Ah, here they are!? Pagan announced. Cradled in his arms were three, thick, black books, topped by two small, thin ones. He carefully laid them on the counter table.
Relena took one of the thick black books in her hand, and ran a finger on its dusty, leathery cover. When she was about to open it, Pagan?s hand shot out and grabbed her wrists. ?Careful,? he said, looking at Relena?s surprised face. ?According to my source these books, covers and pages, are made out of human skin. The ink, apparently, is of human blood. Books like this are quite fragile to handle. Human skin doesn?t really age and hold ink very well.? Pagan looked very solemn as he spoke.
Heero?s own skin crawled. But Relena appeared unperturbed, and opened the book without hesitation. She flipped through the pages rapidly, and all Heero could see was a reddish-brown blur of writings and drawings. Then she shut it with a dull thud. ?How much?? Relena asked.
?Relena?? Heero began, ?you can?t buy that. They?re made of human??
To his annoyance, Relena and Pagan both laughed. ?Oh, Heero. Don?t be like that. Pagan?s just kidding. Of course they aren?t made of human skin. They?re just your run-of-the-mill spell books and treatises on the occult. Completely harmless.? She grinned at Pagan, then leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. ?He?s a very serious person, isn?t he? No sense of humor at all.?
?I heard that.?
?I know.? She flashed him a smile, and then faced Pagan. She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed him her credit card. ?I?m taking them all.?
Pagan took the card. ?Will I also be including here the reservations you made last week??
?Yes. They?re for Christmas gifts.? She flickered a quick glance over her shoulder at Heero, looking just a little guilty of something. Heero frowned at her, puzzled, but she only gave him her most charming smile as an answer. Then her expression changed, and she looked serious.
?I know you don?t like Christmas, but, if you?d like?could you spend Christmas with me? I?d really like to spend Christmas with you, Heero.?
Heero stared at her for a moment. Christmas. He had observed Christmas since his parents were killed. The memories had been too strong, the emotions still fresh. Even now, when he thought they could no longer touch him, they were still there, unwilling to let go.
But looking at Relena, standing before him, a pleading expression in her blue eyes, he found that he could not refuse.
Heero grunted, then shrugged. ?Fine. I?ll be there.? It took his breath away when he saw her reaction. Relena?s eyes widened, and her lips parted as if to say something, then she smiled, her whole face brightening with joy. ?Thank you,? she finally said, glancing away when Pagan loudly cleared his throat to hand her the receipt.
After a few minutes, the books properly packed and bundled, Heero (who was carrying the books despite Relena?s protests) and Relena walked towards the door to leave. He took her hand in his, which made her jump a little. He had never taken her hand in public before. She knew Heero wasn?t up to much public displays of affection.
But before they could leave, Pagan called out, ?Aren?t you two going to kiss under the mistletoe?? He pointed at a sprig of mistletoe tied on one of the beams above them.
?Oh.? Relena blushed. ?Oh.? She looked at Heero. Heero scowled again, but didn?t let go of her hand. ?We don?t have to do it. It?s a silly custom, anyway. We even got it wrong. The correct way to kiss under the mistletoe is to kiss underneath it while plucking one of the berries. When all the berries are gone, there will be no more kissing underneath it. And??
?Relena?? Heero said, leaning over, stopping Relena in her babbling.
?What??
He kissed her. The kiss was soft, almost chaste, a mere brush of lips, but the touch of heat it gave warmed Heero more than anything today. And as he kissed her, he plucked a berry from the mistletoe.
When the kiss was over, Relena gave him a dazed look, face impossibly red. It would be the first time Heero kissed her in front of other people. Heero decided he liked Relena looking that way, and he should do this more often. ?What was that for?? she asked.
?Traditions must always be observed,? Heero said blandly. Tugging her arm, he gave the smiling Pagan a brief nod before he all but dragged a still-dazed Relena away.
?Speaking of professors, are you talking about the one who teaches the popular folklore course at the university?? Duo?s loud voice cut through Heero?s thoughts, forcing him back to the present.
Hilde nodded. ?Yes. Professor D.?
?Professor D? What kind of name is that? D is short for what? Professor Dracula??
?Dracula?s a guy,? Hilde snapped. ?She?s not.?
?Oooh. Aren?t we being nasty?? Duo muttered under his breath. ?Speaking of the university, did you find out when the blade?s going to arrive??
Hilde shook her head. ?No. Not yet, but I?m working on it.? She let out a sigh. ?The security?s tough on that one. Everyone?s tight-lipped about the details on the blade.?
?I could hack into their computers.?
?You can. But I don?t think they put any details on the blade in the computer.?
The blade. That was part of the reason they were here. Heero didn?t understand why they kept on referring to it as ?the blade?. It was an antique sword with a Toledo blade dating back to the time of the Crusades. What made it more special than most was that the sword once belonged to Vlad Dracul, Prince of Wallachia. Legend has it that before he rode to his final battle, he sent a vassal to give the sword to his son and heir, the then future Prince of Wallachia, Vlad Tepes, more popularly known as Dracula, Lord of the Vampires.
For years, the sword was thought to be lost, like most Dracula relics, but recently, news of its existence came to light. Though no further details were publicly released, a quiet investigation led to St. George?s University?s Center for Folklore Studies, a small university in New England, where the sword was to be donated to them anonymously, and will be in the Center?s museum for display after it has been studied and authenticated.
Apparently, some vampire clans had expressed interest on the sword, and were more that willing to steal and kill for it. They were sent here to make sure the vampires didn?t end up killing or turning anyone, and if possible, take a look at the sword.
?I didn?t think the vamps could be so sentimental about the sword,? Duo muttered.
?The sword belongs to Dracula. The last of the Draculs will be more than willing to kill anyone to get that blade back to his hands. He is the rightful owner of the blade, being the last of Dracula?s line.? Heero said, startling the two when he spoke. ?Whether they get the blade or not is not our concern. Our mission here is to make sure the vampires don?t kill anyone.?
Duo grunted and glanced outside. ?Well, I don?t think we?ll worry about any vampires attacking people in the streets. They?re empty nowadays. Looks like everyone?s staying inside tonight. Again.?
The streets were empty, which was unusual. The streets were never empty during these hours. Before the holiday break, there were still an odd group of drunken students stumbling on the snow-covered road on their way to their apartments or dormitories, singing happily in off-key voices or the occasional neighborhood kids having snowball fights.
Heero and his team had arrived here just a few weeks ago, and for most part, they saw nothing suspicious. It was relatively quiet town, despite having a university in it. Duo joked that it must be because the university offered ?boring? degrees, like anthropology and archeology, and thus attracted the more sedate and ?nerdy? of students. Only the statue of a young woman dressed in flowing robes, caught in the embrace of an angel?an angel with a scythe and dark wings?proved to be unusual?and a little disturbing.
Lately, people have been staying in their houses during the night and mornings, even with Christmas approaching. Heero had expected the clich?d traditions of the Christmas season: the carol singers, frantic shoppers and the equally frantic shopkeepers, the occasional Santa Claus, but so far the town have chosen to observe Christmas with a silent, foreboding air of solemnity.
Duo glanced outside again. ?Maybe the street?s empty because it?s Christmas Eve. The students are already home for the holidays or sunbathing in some sunny tropical island like Hawaii. The neighborhood kids are with their families, having Christmas Eve dinner.?
?We still don?t have any proof of vampiric activity in this place. Except for the two cases of tuberculosis in the hospital, nothing untoward has happened recently. I don?t know why we bothered coming here anyway.? Duo had wanted to stay in New York City, where he had a job in the NY Times. Now he was reduced to working in the local newspaper, a job, according to Duo, that had the interest level equivalent to staring at mud.
?That?s true, but until Trowa tells us to discontinue the mission, we?re not moving from here, and we?re going to continue with our respective tasks,? Hilde said. ?Suck it up, Duo.?
Scowling, Duo muttered, ?Right. Now can we forget the mission for a while and concentrate on Christmas? We still have decorating to do.?
?You?re the one who started talking about it.?
Duo winced and held up a hand. ?Fine. I surrender. I?m sorry for the mistletoe thing. Let?s just get on with Christmas.? He grinned at Heero, then at Hilde. ?Hey, this would be our first Christmas as a team. Whom do you usually spend Christmas with??
No one, Heero almost said, no one since Relena. He had not cared to observe Christmas after that. The memories had been too strong, the emotions still fresh. Even now, when he thought they could no longer touch him, they were still there, unwilling to let go.
And as Heero glanced at the Christmas decorations in the bookstore, at the mistletoe and the hollies, he knew he would not be able to escape the memories this time.
It was going to be a long, long Christmas.
~*~*~*~
?What?s wrong?? Heero took one of her bare hands in his, entwining their fingers together. His eyes narrowed when he felt how cold and stiff her hand was. He tightened his grip. He and Relena had agreed to meet in a nearby store on the day before Christmas. When he went there he had found her standing outside the store, a troubled look on her face.
?Oh, no. Nothing?s wrong,? Relena said, smiling at him. Relena looked different under the moonlight?pale and beautiful, but the halo of light seemed to crown her in sadness and grief. Snowflakes melted in her hair, a faint blush on her cheeks. Her cream-colored sweater and white skirt contrasted sharply with her dark sable coat, making her look like an angel with black wings.
Heero absently tucked a stray golden lock behind her ear. They stood still for a moment, and then she tugged his hand, urging him forward. ?Let?s go. It?ll get colder soon.?
They walked quietly to Relena?s house, Relena leading the way. Watching with hooded eyes, Heero noted that she seemed preoccupied, glancing neither left or right as they made their way through the snowy streets, a distant look in her eyes. Her sable coat fluttered as a slight breeze passed by.
?Is this the first Christmas you?ll be celebrating after your parents died, Heero??
Heero stared at the back of Relena?s head. Snow continued to fall from the dark sky, dusting Relena?s hair and fur coat with pale white flakes. His hand itched to brush them away. ?Yes.?
?My family died in a fire on Christmas Eve.? She didn?t face him as she spoke, so he could not see her face. ?I wasn?t home. I was still at the church, helping with the cleanup. I was in the Christmas play that year. I played as a lamb, would you believe that??
?A lamb?? Heero frowned, trying to picture Relena as a child, dressed as a lamb. Instead, he saw her coming home, still in her costume, and finding nothing but ashes.
Relena didn?t seem to hear him. ?I miss my family, especially on Christmas. I feel lonely without them, sometimes.? She abruptly stopped walking. ?Do you miss your family, too, Heero??
Heero paused in mid-step. Why did she want to know? Strange she would talk about their respective parents, a topic they rarely discussed, though they were both orphans. She had never asked about his feelings on anything before, most of the time because she already knew what he felt. ?Relena??
?Do you ever get lonely, Heero?? This time, Relena glanced over her shoulder as she asked. She had a strange expression on her face, looking like she was expecting him to answer.
?Not anymore,? Heero finally said after a moment of silence.
Relena laughed. ?I?ll never get a straight answer from you, will I?? She grinned when he scowled at her. ?Oh, well. It was worth a try.? She resumed walking.
Still scowling, he followed her, but they only made a few steps when Relena whirled around, snowflakes dancing in her golden hair. She laid one hand on Heero?s chest and looked up, blue eyes unnaturally bright. Heero controlled a start of surprise when Relena suddenly grabbed his coat?s lapels, pulled him down, and pressed her lips against his.
Ice. Her lips were ice, so cold they almost seemed to burn against his lips. But as the kiss deepened, the ice became fire, and all Heero could feel was heat and warmth.
The kiss was nothing like the one they shared under the mistletoe a few days ago. The kiss was as fierce and demanding as the last kiss had been gentle and chaste.
Relena slowly drew away from the kiss, both of them panting for breath as their lips pulled apart. Then she smiled. ?I love you,? she said softly. ?Thank you for spending Christmas with me.?
Heero touched her cheek. ?Relena?what?s wrong??
?Nothing.? Her smile widened. ?Nothing at all. I?m just?very happy.? She removed her hands from his coat and turned her back to him. ?Let?s go. I?ll still have to cook, you know.?
Frowning, Heero watched her leave. Relena was being very cryptic today. He shoved his hands into his leather jacket?s pockets, feeling a slight thrill of anticipation when one his hands brushed against the velvet-covered box inside one of the pockets.
Suppressing his doubts for now, he started walking and followed Relena.
T.B.C.
Author?s note: Please be reminded that killing the author or injuring her in any way will or might result in the discontinuation of her stories. So hold your horses! And put down your knives! XD
And on a random note, why is it that when I was writing this, I have this feeling that the characters are speaking English with a British accent? How odd.
I so need to work on my atmosphere.
And yes, in the flashbacks, Heero and Relena are already in a relationship. How they ended together is just some of the things you?ll have to wait for in Crimson Drowning to find out.
And I wonder if anyone noted the little clues I put in the story. XD
The poem: Uhm, random poem I put in. It?s a creepy poem. It doesn?t seem to have any connection to the story right now, but one day, I?ll probably find a way to make sense of it. XD
On Dracula?s sword: There is such a sword. The blade was given to Dracula?s father when he was invested with the Order of the Dragon. Local folklore has it that the sword was eventually given to Dracula, along with the medallion/necklace bearing the seal/heraldry of the Order of the Dragon. We don?t know what happened to the sword. It was said to have been found when what was believed to be Dracula?s tomb in Snagov was opened, but was stolen or something. I?m not claiming complete factual accuracy, but I did do a bit of research.
Winter: I live in the Philippines. We do not have snow?all I know about snow comes from movies, books, and various electronic media. I researched as hard as I can about this. If there are any factual inconsistencies, feel free to tell me.
Next part: The lemon. Need I say more?
Comments and Criticism are most welcome and appreciated. Flames will burn.
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