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Left Unsaid	By : ElleSmith Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Heero/Duo Views: 1021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: GUNDAM WING is a Registered Trademark of Bandai, Sunrise, Sotsu Agency & TV Asahi. This work of fiction was written for non-profitable purposes.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
Epilogue:
They barely made it past the hotel room door and Heero already had Relena pinned down against a nearby table, kissing her fervently while maneuvering out of his shirt. He climbed over her, his muscular torso and broad shoulders encompassing her completely, flooding her body with irresistible heat.
She panted heavily, her breasts heaving wildly up and down as he tore through the buttons of her black blouse with eager fingers. She raised her legs to the table, pushing her business-skirt-covered bum further away from the edge and placing her high heel shoes on the polished wooden top. He took her invitation, positioning his strong legs between hers and wrapping his sturdy arms around her tightly. His face was buried in the hollow of her shoulder, kissing her neck eagerly. He grounded his hips against hers; he was so hard. She moaned, titling her head back.
"You sure Duo won't mind?" she huffed between panting, trying to turn her head aside to avoid his hungry mouth just so she could get a few words out.
"Yeah..." he breathed against her slick neck and turned to nibble at her earlobe ravenously; all the while his hand was fumbling with her bra clasps, trying to get it open with a single hand.
"Don't worry about it..." he whispered into her ear and she shuddered pleasantly at the feeling of his hot breath against her moist earlobe. He stopped and rose up a little so he could look at her. "Or would you rather I stop?" he asked, smirking.
She took a moment to appreciate the sight of his handsome face: soulful blue eyes gleaming softly under the hazy winter light flooding the room and his healthy complexion almost glowing under the heavenly white radiance. It was a snowy day and one could barely make out the city behind the thick fog obscuring the view from a nearby window.
The years have been kind to him, she mused, studying his face silently. Even pushing thirty-five, Heero's fine features still retained a youthful boyish quality. Her own personal fountain of youth. His dark hair was cut short, no bangs, with the top just slightly longer and tousled messily as though constantly raked by passionate fingers. No longer hidden behind a heap of unruly bangs, his Prussian blue eyes stood out like beautiful jewels offering a window to his bare soul. After twenty years of shared ups and downs, he had nothing to hide from her, nor did he try. She loved gazing into his eyes and read his whole life story, especially the parts she had featured in...
She reached a hand up to caress his handsome face. "Don't stop," she whispered, smiling, and wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him back down. "I only get to see you once a year..." she breathed the words out, panting and pushing her hips up against his hard manhood; "No more talking..." she commanded and he smiled back. He took her right there on the table, devouring her body with his intense heat.
"Madam Vice President?" a timid female voice interrupted her daydreaming and Relena turned away from the airplane window to face the aisle. A young woman, around twenty-five or so and dressed in a smart-looking business suit, was standing there, waiting.
"We just landed in DC, ma'am," she said.
Relena cleared her throat while pushing a strand of short hairs out of her eyes, concealing her flushed face. She wasn't used to being caught daydreaming, but today it was out of her hands. She took a brief moment to compose herself and turned to the woman standing in aisle, scowling.
"Well what are you waiting for, Edwards?" she rebuked coldly, "let's get moving." She stood up, straightened the folds of her elegant business-skirt-suit and then stepped into the aisle on a pair of fashionable high heels.
Her fine blonde hair was styled into a short, neat and flat asymmetric cut with geometric lines that drew attention to her stern features – the cold, hardened face of an experienced politician. Her once delicate features have matured into the callous façade of a calculating career-woman who always got her own way. She didn't just step on a few toes to get to where she was today; she had stabbed people in the back, and that wasn't the worst of it. She had only one soft spot, and it was reserved for a long lost love. On most days, that didn't count enough to matter. They called her the ESUN's own Iron Lady. She had earned the title by cold hard brilliance; political survival instincts she has developed after years of playing by the rules of a corrupt system. True, she might have been unethical at times – a moral compass was a sign of weakness – but she did what she had to do for the good of the planet.
The greater good was still her highest priority, and she would stop at nothing to uphold her beliefs. She had devoted everything for her career, even letting go of those she loved, cutting them loose because they were nothing more than dead weight, emotional baggage. Her ruthless pragmatism may not be inspiring, but it was remarkably efficient. She wouldn't have made Vice President by the age of thirty-four if not for being clever, manipulative and voracious.
"Did you set up the meeting with Hector's people?" she asked firmly as the two made their way towards the exit
"Yes ma'am," the younger woman confirmed, "You'll be meeting with them right after your appointment."
"Good. How do we stand on the rearmament bill? Any progress?"
"We still don't have the numbers."
"Did you get Mendozza and Haas on the phone? Did some poaching?"
"Yes ma'am, during the flight. I also spoke to Miller, Hill and Pulaski. They'll vote against the amendment. Others promised to abstain, but we still need more support if we want to put a stop to this. They have a quorum... we don't have the numbers. This is going to take some maneuvering."
"Then we pull a filibuster and avoid a quorum," Relena stated starkly. "We'll play dirty if we have to, I don't care. Earn the time to get me more numbers. If they pass the rearmament reform, they will force the government into a spending spree. We can't rearm the whole God damn planet! Forget the security complications, there's simply no funding!"
"Still, it'll take a miracle to win this," Edwards pointed out; "People are scared, they want weapons."
"People are stupid. Voters don't know what they want."
"Hector will cross it eventually. Why keep fighting it? What could possibly change in the next four days?"
"Empires can fall," Relena muttered menacingly; "I can push this through the Senate, Miranda," she insisted as they stepped off the private plane and were immediately joined by four secret service agents waiting on the sleek runway; it was raining. "And once I do," she continued, "the president will announce a major bipartisan agreement in the state of the Earth Sphere Union. We avoid a government shutdown and Brussels gets credit."
"It's a huge risk, and if it fails – a huge embarrassment."
"The embarrassment will be entirely my own," Relena proclaimed as they stopped in front of a black executive's car waiting a few feet away from the small jet. She opened the backseat door and turned to Edwards, glaring.
"This is on my shoulders," she said; "Whatever it takes."
"Even so," the younger woman argued, "the president is going to require some serious persuasion. Want me to send Adams in? Test the waters? We can play the Chambers card."
"No, I'll do it," Relena decided and prepared to step into the car. "She'll be more amenable if it comes from a friend. Set up a meeting. We fly out of here in four hours," she concluded and settled into the backseat. "Get to it, Edwards," she said, glancing at her expensive wristwatch. "The clock is ticking."
"Yes ma'am," Edwards acknowledged, "I'll have it set up by the time you're back from your appointment," she promised and closed the door behind the Vice President of the ESUN. The car drove off.
* * *
Washington DC was not a snow town. It got snow every year, but winters generally weren't too kind to resident snow lovers. A white Christmas was rare, but since winter AC 214 was by far the coldest the DC area has seen in decades, weather forecasters were optimistic that if not Christmas, then at least the New Year will greet the American Capital with a blanket of white. And indeed, come January 215, temperatures finally dropped below zero and snowfall coated the city in white.
A blanket of thick snow covered the massive burial grounds of Washington DC's Congressional Cemetery on the west bank of the Anacostia River. Layers of white mounted up over ancient headstones and mausoleums. An avenue of trees winter had stripped of their glory stood bare, hunching over a narrow red-brick path cutting through a field of gray tombstones. Relena stood at the side of the path, wrapped in an elegant black coat. Her bodyguards stood a few hundred feet away, giving her some privacy. She looked at her wristwatch, tapping her black high heel shoe impatiently on the snowy ground. She didn't have time for this. This was the one time of year she usually reserved solely to herself, a short period of grace during which she allowed herself to feel again, but she didn't have time for it this year; there was too much at stake. And yet, she couldn't just pass on this. She would never do that to him; she did her best not to disappoint (although not effectively), especially on a day like today.
Today marked the twelve-year anniversary of their daughter's death, and ten years since she had given up on the love of her life. Everything changed since that day; she was a changed woman, probably for the worse, but just because she chose to give up on a spouse, a home and a family to advance her career didn't mean that it was any easier going through life alone. At least she still had Heero. He was the only one she trusted to always be there when she needed him, without any obligation to do the same for him if needed; he didn't need her to play that role anymore – he had Duo.
They hardly ever spoke, only when something big happened, like the day she had been indirectly elected for office and he called to congratulate her, or the night Duo was shot in the line of duty three years ago and he called her in tears, afraid he was going to lose the man he loved. She would have flown over if she could, just to hug him, but by the time she managed to clear her schedule Duo was already out of the woods, so she figured it would be redundant.
They seldom met and mostly kept in touch here and there via email and the occasional texting. Heero was one of very few people on the planet who had her private number, although even that form of short correspondence became rare since she had taken office as Vice President of the ESUN. Aside from a few very rare occasions, they only met face to face once a year. This was their annual reunion – right here, by Elizabeth's grave.
Two figures emerged from the fog up ahead, heading down the red-bricked path, making their way towards her. She watched them walk hand in hand and her face hardened into a stony glare; no expression. She didn't have time to feel; not this year. World peace was at stake. Heero would understand.
The two men, also dressed in black, finished their approach and stood before her. Duo let go of Heero's hand and stepped aside quietly, just a small step. He knew his place in this reunion and she appreciated his consideration.
"Duo," she greeted him politely, running her eyes over him briefly. He was a tall, strapping man with a classic masculine look most women appreciated. It was a shame he was strictly gay. His smooth light-brown hair was cut James Dean style, a look that worked for him even at thirty-five. Wearing a black leather jacket to compliment the rugged look, he was the eternal nonchalant bad boy; a rebel without a cause. Quite ironic considering he worked as a detective-investigator for the NYPD Detective Bureau, keeping law and order in the streets of New York City.
"Vice President," he greeted formally, nodding his head curtly. His brooding blue eyes never ceased to glare at her resentfully even years after she had stepped aside and distanced herself from Heero's life. It didn't matter. She didn't need his forgiveness; she had Heero's. She didn't fuss over his cold and guarded attitude. Despite their differences, they shared a unique understanding, a special bond between two people who loved and cherished the same person. It was this mutual and unspoken respect that brought them back together two years ago in New York City – when they both came to witness convicted serial killer Dr. Gerald D. Sloan be executed by lethal injection [[i]]. They stood together behind a large glass window and never said a word to each other as they watched the madman who had hurt the man they loved be put to death. Sloan had enjoyed toying with them, torturing them by making them guess Heero's choice, so they in turn enjoyed seeing him die for it.
Heero had learned of the execution in the next day's paper. He never knew they were there, relishing in vengeance together, and they will never tell him about it either. That was the kind of understanding they shared.
Relena sighed and turned away from Duo so she could have a good look at Heero. Aged into his mid-thirties, Heero was just as striking as he had been in his early twenties, when they had last been together. His hair had grown a bit longer since she had last seen him a year ago. He didn't look quite like the man she had fantasized about on the plane; a man she often fantasized about because she never bothered with relationships and, unlike fellow politicians of the male gender, she couldn't result to prostitutes. Scandals aside, it just wasn't her thing, wasn't worth the trouble it took to keep it discreet.
His hair was still cut short, but it was now styled into a subtle faux hawk,arranged in messy short waves that added rough texture to his handsome face. His blue eyes were nothing like the bright blue jewels she had dreamt of; they were dark, reserved... sad. His features were just as demure, as she expected them to be on this decorous day. He looked good though, healthy; keeping in shape. His skin was tanned, a vital golden hue that contrasted the paleness of winter. Duo's face was the same. She called it their "Christmas Tan", because they always went away on Christmas and spent the holiday someplace warm and sunny, returning with sunburns while everyone else around them walked around with a cold white face and a red runny nose.
"You're late," she opened with a biting accusation, though she didn't mean to place blame. Old habits die hard. "I don't have much time," she tried to explain, "There's this—"
"I know," Heero cut in, speaking quietly. "It's okay."
She smiled faintly, grateful for his understanding. Duo rolled his eyes. She knew he didn't like it when Heero accepted her flaws so easily. He felt that Heero deserved better, and he did. That was why she left.
Her gaze fell upon the plain plastic bag Heero held in his hand. A small bouquet of flowers peeked out of it. She cast her eyes down guiltily, only now realizing that with all the commotion over the rearmament bill, she forgot to tell her assistant to arrange for flowers.
"Here," Heero said and pulled the small bouquet out of the bag. He handed her the flowers and she accepted them bashfully. He knew she'd forget.
"Thank you," she mumbled, her gaze cast down to avoid Duo's disapproving eyes. He saw her differently than Heero did, but always kept his mouth shut out of respect to his lover. He remained on the red-bricked path, waiting behind patiently, while they walked together to their daughter's grave.
"How were the Bahamas?" she asked as they trudged between snow-covered headstones. She was holding the flowers in her hand, tilted down towards the ground. The bouquet shook gently as she walked and a few petals fell, drops of color on a glowing white surface. The cemetery was massive, but their feet carried them to their destination without wavering from an invisible path. They knew their way well.
"Hot," Heero replied quietly, looking at the snowy ground as they walked. He was still holding the plastic bag; there was something else in it. The bag swung back and forth with each of his steps. "Crowded," he added in dismay.
Relena smiled faintly. "I didn't think you'd get away this year," she admitted; "with Candy being due and all..."
"Mandy," he corrected, still looking at the ground.
"Yes, sorry," she hurried to rectify. She had to take better note of his emails. They were scarce, but at least he still cared enough to share his life with her. She had to pay more attention; it's not every day that your ex-boyfriend and father of your deceased child sends you an email letting you know that he and his partner have finally found a surrogate mother to be fertilized with an egg she herself has donated by his request. The least she could do was remember the lady's name; she was carrying their child for God's sake!
"Mandy, of course," she mumbled, smiling awkwardly.
"Candy sounds like a stripper," he groused and turned to look at her, his fierce blue eyes burning in silent admonishment. He had caught her in negligence once more. She chuckled nervously.
"Yes, it does. Sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect. She's doing an amazing thing. When is she due?"
Heero lowered his gaze back down to the ground. They walked past a large headstone and took a turn to the right.
"...couple of weeks," he murmured quietly, "due date is on the twenty-first."
"That's right around the corner... are you nervous?"
Heero's fist curled tightly around the plastic bag.
"Scared shitless."
She smiled kindly. "It's pretty natural to get cold feet, right?" she tried to offer some encouragement.
"I guess," he mumbled, looking down at his feet as they marched through the snow.
"And how's Duo handling it?"
"How do you think?" he snapped and she chuckled.
"This isn't exactly what he signed in for, is it? I think we were both pretty shocked when you sprung this on us. I was sure Duo would flip out when you asked me for a donation."
She remembered that day as though it was yesterday. Heero requested to meet with her about a year ago. He flew all the way to Brussels for the meeting, unwilling to wait until she will be called to DC again. That was enough to indicate that something big was going on, but she honestly never saw it coming when he told her about his wish to become a father, and of her child no less. She knew Heero felt great remorse for never getting to know their child while she was still alive, but grief and regret were one thing; choosing to become a father again was something else entirely. She had to make sure that he was doing it for the right reasons, because having another kid will never bring Elizabeth back; it won't ease the guilt one bit, nor would it heal his deep mourning. It would be wrong to bring another child into this world just to prove that he could do it properly a second time around.
She had to make sure he knew what kind of a demanding lifelong commitment he was entering, and that he had his lover's full support. She needed Duo to be in it wholeheartedly, especially since he would be raising her child; she didn't wish his fierce resentment on anyone but herself.
She was scared for them. The birth of a child could shake the foundations of even the sturdiest relationship and, given their difficult past and messed-up childhood, she was afraid they didn't quite know what they were heading into. Heero told her that he's been entertaining the idea for quite some time now, ever since he saw a gay family – two men and a daughter – in a beach resort Duo and he visited one Christmas. It took him over a year to come to terms with the strange wish constantly growing in his heart and come forward with his crazy idea, finally sharing it with Duo and then with her. Something about it just feels right, he had said, and she realized that he truly wanted it with all his being. She didn't know a better reason to become a parent.
And so, after very little convincing, she adhered his request and helped him form a family of his own. He deserved it, more than anyone. She was honored that he chose her to be a part of it, despite their tragic history. It will be a vicarious motherhood; she will fill her emotional needs vicariously, through him, and try to live in peace with the knowledge that Duo will be the one to love their child in her stead.
"I still can't believe he agreed to go through with this," she said, sighing.
"Maybe he's more mature than you think," Heero retorted quietly and Relena smiled cunningly.
"Or maybe he just loves you more than he hates me," she suggested slyly. Heero smiled back weakly, gazing at the snowy ground as he walked.
"...he asked me to marry him," he said quietly and Relena stopped, stunned.
"What? Really? When?"
Heero paused as well and turned to face her. He shrugged. "In the Bahamas. We're getting our marriage license next week."
"Oh my God... really?"
"Nothing fancy," he said as he turned around and resumed walking; Relena hurried to follow, walking by his side.
"Just a judge of the peace and some signatures. Paperwork, really..." He sighed. "Duo wanted a priest, but I... I don't know. Maybe. I said I'll think about it."
"That's... that's great!" she strained to sound enthusiastic; why was this hurting so much?
"Congratulations. It's about time you two tie the knot."
"...yeah, I guess. It doesn't really change anything. We're mostly doing it so that Duo could adopt the baby. Easier that way."
"Still... a wedding and a kid... big year."
"Yeah."
"Wow."
"Yeah..."
Relena reached her free hand to hold his, squeezing it gently. He turned to her and she smiled, this time out of genuine compassion.
"I'm happy for you," she said and gave his hand another soft squeeze. "You really turned your life around. Who would have thought: you – a stay-at-home-dad!" She smiled.
Heero returned her smile awkwardly and then looked away humbly; she had embarrassed him. He let go of her hand and they continued walking in silence. Relena ran her eyes over various headstones, reading names and dates just because. Some graves were ancient, dating over four hundred years back. No one visited those plots anymore. The deceased's names didn't mean anything now.
"Did you guys pick out a name yet?" she asked after a while, turning to face Heero again.
"Yeah," he whispered softly, looking up at the cloudy horizon. "I'm thinking... Isobel."
"That's a lovely name," she smiled, "I like it."
"It's Scottish," he said, bowing his head down again. "It's an ancient form of Elizabeth."
"Oh." It was all she could say. It hurt a little.
Heero heaved a quiet sigh. "We're still in disagreement regarding her last name. I want it to be Maxwell, because that way she'll also be his, but Duo says that it rhymes awfully... Isobel Maxwell."
Relena laughed. "He makes a valid point. Why not call her Izzie for short?" she suggested, shrugging casually. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Heero stopped and turned to her, scowling. "Like Lizzie?" he asked and she grimaced, feeling stupid. Only he could turn her back into a tactless little girl. He was her soft spot after all. If he couldn't make her feel vulnerable, who will? She needed him to remind her of the person she could be if she ever decided to let go of her ambitions.
"Uh... yeah..." she mumbled, eyes cast down in shame. She dared looking up again, feeling awful. "Too much?" she asked guiltily. Heero thought about it for a moment.
"That's not a bad compromise," he finally said, turning to study the cloudy horizon for a quiet moment. "I like it," he added, facing her again. "Izzie Maxwell... sounds natural."
Relena smiled, relieved. Only he would be so forgiving of the hurt she caused him.
"Tell her auntie Lena came up with that one," she said with a small smile.
"Technically, you're her mother," Heero carefully reminded her, his blue eyes burning. "And you should tell her yourself one day."
"I will," she promised, but they both knew she will never keep her promise. Chances were that as the years go by they will grow more and more apart. He will raise the child she never wanted, atoning for sins that weren't his own, while she will keep on striving to achieve one political goal after the other. Why, if the press ever got their hands on this controversial story she'd be ruined. Her deep devotion to him was her one and only weakness; loving him forced her to make stupid choices, dangerous ones. Love was a liability; she had given it up with good reason. She had to keep a safe distance. It was for the best.
The two kept walking, leaving two trails of footsteps in the snow. They were nearly by the banks of the wide Anacostia River when they reached the burial plot. It was small piece of land overlooking the water, marked by a plain gray headstone covered with snow. Relena stood beside him as Heero knelt in front of the small grave and used his hand to clear the snow off the cold marble, exposing the black engraving:
In Ever Loving Memory of
Elizabeth Darlian
Born 23rd December AC 199

Died 9th January AC 203

Aged 3 years
Held for a Day,
Remembered Always
She gazed wretchedly at the words. Heero had picked that epitaph, adding it to the headstone about six years ago. The original one, the engraving she had picked when Elizabeth was buried, didn't give more than a name and date. Heero felt that it was too impersonal, so he had it changed. Those were his words, not hers.
Tears stung her eyes; regret for her continuous inability to care as much as he did. Squatting down, she placed the modest bouquet by the headstone. She watched Heero reach into the plastic bag he was carrying. He drew out a small pink bunny and placed it against the tombstone. There was another small bunny already lying against the marble grave, but it was old and ragged, no longer pink after being abused by the elements all year long. He picked it up gently and placed it inside the bag, as he did every year – replacing the old bunny with a new pink one. She never asked, but she had a feeling he never threw the old ones away. He probably had a bunch of them stored in a box somewhere.
Heero then placed his hand over the headstone and just... held it. Relena rose back up, giving him some space. She stood a step behind him, her head bowed down to pay her respects. It was more for him than for Elizabeth, really.
"She would have been fifteen this year," she said quietly, looking at the grave.
"Yeah," he whispered, sighing.
Relena smiled sadly. She was fifteen when she had first met him; a brash and entitled brat he had changed in an instant. Her eyes lingered to the short dark hairs on the back of his head. This man was nothing like the boy she had met twenty years ago, she mused. They've both changed.
"I wonder what she would have been like," she said.
"Hopefully... nothing like us," Heero mumbled and stood up, still gazing wretchedly at the grave.
"Will you tell Isobel about her one day?"
"Yes... I think I will."
"What will you say?"
He turned to her, his blue eyes pensive.
"...that she had a sister I never got to love," he said, holding her gaze firmly. There was accusation in his eyes, she could tell. Even after all this time he still resented her for denying him of a chance to love his daughter. He had only learned to love her after her death.
"Don't make me Izzie's godmother," she implored him.
"I won't," he retorted, and she could tell by his biting tone that he had never even considered the notion. That was how much she had failed him, and their daughter.
"...good," she said, her voice never wavering. "I just... had to make that clear. It was a donation, that's all."
"I know," he confirmed, nodding gravely. "No strings attached," he added quietly and turned away from the grave, preparing to leave. He took the old bunny with him in the bag.
"Make sure you keep this world a place where I can raise my child in peace," he said without facing her. She studied his tense backside for a moment before replying:
"I won't let your sacrifices be in vain."
"Good," he said brusquely and swung a leg forward. "Best of luck," he added, and walked away. Relena remained standing by the grave as she watched him make his way back to Duo, waiting somewhere in the distance.
The two left the cemetery hand in hand, heading towards a life together, building a family and a home Relena has now sworn to protect. Ruthless pragmatism aside, she still loved him fiercely. And in spite of the hurt, she will keep on loving him from afar, trusting Duo to always love him from close by. That was the kind of understanding they all shared; three souls bound together for life.
* The End *

^{^[i]} The state of New York has abstained from capital punishment and death sentences are no longer sought at the state level, though certain crimes that fall under the jurisdiction of the federal government – and Sloan's crime fits the definition on multiple levels – are subject to the federal death penalty.

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