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Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter contributed by : Gigamouse

CHAPTER TWO

For which there is no title�
The bare muscles of the man�s chest rippled and glistened with sweat in the
coloured lights cast upon him; they had stopped the music entirely for this
part of the act, the silence and bated breath of the audience providing the
perfect backdrop as the spiky-haired clown turned himself up into a handstand
upon the seat of the motorcycle. Upon the ground this still would have been
considered difficult, as the kickstand wasn�t down. Up in the air it was simply
terrifying, at least for the blond man watching at too great a distance to
possibly save his friend should he fall.
That there wasn�t a net below Trowa�s precarious perch had not gone
unnoticed by the Arab watching him. An indignant part of him had the nerve to
be angry at the ringmaster and Catherine, whom he knew should have protested at
so dangerous an act. Another, vaguely sheepish voice, reminded him that Trowa
knew what he was doing.
The low thrum of a horn playing a slow, almost sorrowful melody sounded
through the tent. Quatre felt almost as if the notes were vibrating through his
entire body�or was he shaking? It was possible. The drink that he�d bought at
concession earlier now dangled loosely from one hand, forgotten as his
concentration had been stolen by the Heavyarms� ex-pilot. Trowa shifted his
hands slowly, carefully keeping the balance on both his body and the bike
strung on top of the wire hung stories above their heads. Millimeter by
millimeter, Trowa edged himself onto one palm, his other hand coming off to
stretch into the empty air. Not a single soul was breathing in the tent.
Elbows settling upon his knees as he leaned forward, one knuckle found its
way to Quatre�s mouth. He bit nervously on the flesh; almost entirely unawares
that he was doing so. �Don�t fall. Don�t fall. Don�t fall,� The mantra
repeated monotone within his head. He wished that he had a better view.

Though the pair of them had found seats at the top of the bleachers set up
inside the big top, the major problem with seeing the high wire act was that it
was so very far away. Despite that his eyesight was perfect, Quatre couldn�t
make out the detail he wanted most to see: Trowa�s face.
His heart began to beat again, one weakly protesting thump, when Trowa
lowered himself back onto two hands. Another thump sounded in his ears as the
clown lowered himself back into the seat of the bike. It wobbled a little
beneath him, causing the audience to gasp collectively, and then he was back in
the seat and gunned the engine. The bike zoomed across the rest of the wire and
he parked it on top the platform.

The tent exploded with noise. As the audience surged to their feet around him,
including his company for the evening, Quatre found himself glued to his seat.
He could barely see Trowa around the big hair of the woman standing in front of
him, but if he looked up far enough he could just make out his half-masked face
as the boy took his bows to the crowd. For a moment, he could swear that Trowa
looked right at him.

++//\++
The show had been dazzling. Even better than the first time he�d seen it
with Hilde, Duo thought. If anything could be said about the Three-Rings was
that while their name might not have been terribly imaginative their
performances were spectacular. He�d liked the clowns, especially; not that he
had any bias. �I didn�t know that Trowa had begun a tight rope act!� Quatre marveled
half to himself as he stared down at the paper cup in his hands. His lips
fumbled for the straw, finally catching it and sucking only to realize that
he�d already drained the cup.
�Neither did I,� Duo agreed, nodding. The two were still in their seats near
the top of the bleachers, waiting for some of the crowd to clear out before
they tried to get down. �I wonder how they got that motorcycle up there,
though. I never saw it until he just� appeared with it.�
The blond shook his head in wonder, a slightly distant look on his face. The
music was still playing from a live band near the entry way to the �back
stage,� a strange and hypnotic tune which seemed to be present at all
circuses�both in real life and on television. Duo couldn�t help but smile a little
to himself as he noticed a familiar red head with her head poked out the flap.
He raised a hand, waving to her energetically but Catherine didn�t seem to see
him and ducked back into the darkness. Pouting a little, Duo shrugged and
sighed, �Well, what ya going to do?�
His companion made a non-committal noise and Duo turned to face him, �You
alright, fluff ball?�
�Huh?� Quatre started, physically jerking back into reality from where he�d
been lost in the contents (or lack thereof) of his cup. For an awkward moment
all he found that he could do was stare at Duo and then he laughed and shook
his head. �Yeah, I�m fine. I guess I just got a little lost for a minute.�
The braided boy tilted his head a little, considering that. He didn�t quite
believe it, but would it do Quatre any good for him to say so? Duo didn�t think
so. Instead he climbed to his feet and gave a stretch. They�d been sitting for
the full two hours of the show and he was feeling a little stiff in his back
and neck. The boy pivoted his waist from side to side to crack his back. When
Quatre stood as well the two worked their way over to the stairs cut into the
middle of the bleachers. �I really like what they�re doing with the whole act.
It�s improved� did you ever see their old performances?�

Duo glanced behind him in time to see Quatre shake his head. When they reached
the ground level he stopped, turning to let the other boy catch up to stride
with him, as well as wait for the last of the crowd to disperse from the exits.
A moment of genius struck him like a bolt, �You know what? We should go see
him! Congratulate him on opening night or some such.�
There were times when Quatre had something of an owlish look to him,
normally when he was surprised by someone else suggesting something he�d wanted
to do for himself; the blond donned that look now, mouth gaping at the other
boy. Duo mentally congratulated himself on having read Quatre correctly. He�d
considered, on the odd occasion, telling Quatre just how much of an open-book
he really was, where his friends were concerned. While Duo had never seen
Quatre in a board meeting, he privately thought that his friend must have
mastered a good �poker� face by now, or else he�d never have survived this long
in the corporate world. At least if television was to be believed about such
places.

�I don�t know, Duo,� Quatre replied tentatively, after some soundless flapping
of his lips, �He probably would want to rest��

�That guy?� Duo had to scoff. Grabbing his friend by the arm, Duo proceeded to
drag Quatre into the crowd of people still milling about the nearest exit. It
wouldn�t take a genius to sneak them �back stage� when most of the audience was
still outdoors and a lot of the performers were out front signing autographs.
�You know as well as I do that Trowa is a tank; a measly rope walk isn�t going
to knock him out.�
�That wasn�t all�� Quatre began to protest. The boy fell silent, then, and
Duo decided to pretend that he hadn�t said anything at all.
Once outside the tent, Duo took a headcount of the actors around them.
Standing on tip-toe he was tall enough to see over the heads of most of the
crowd. A familiar red-head could be seen near a cotton-candy vendor, and he
noted a few other clowns handing out balloons� but no, the half-naked,
half-masked tight-rope star was nowhere to be seen. There was little wonder in
that�a year wasn�t going to be enough to change Trowa into an extrovert, even
if this were his job now.
Duo dropped back on his heels and slipped behind a huge, muscular man that
was covered in tattoos. The man was so busy showing of his pecks to the crowd
that neither he, nor the people admiring him, noticed the two teenage boys
sneaking around behind the curve of the big top tent towards the dark of the
backstage area.

++//\++
The door swung open before Wufei could finish knocking once upon it. The air
was crisp and cold; it seemed that spring had lost that day�s battle over the
climate and the world had once again settled into overcast, miserable and
wounded winter. He pulled his Preventer�s jacket�the only one he had that was
thick enough for this mess�tighter around himself and looked up at the tall
Italian now looking down at the lot of them.
�Trowa!� Noin laughed, face splitting in a grin at the sight of the
ex-pilot, �Surprise!�

�Surprise� was right, Wufei thought, for Trowa merely stared at them for a long
moment. Unlike the rest of the pilots, Wufei hadn�t spent much time at all
around Trowa during the war. Perhaps it was because of this that he noticed the
way that the clown�s body stiffened just a little at the sight of them. That
shock never made it to Trowa�s face, and soon the boy nodded to them. �Good
evening. I hadn�t expected visitors.�

That was as cool a response as any Wufei had expected once he�d heard the plan
the women had concocted for that night�s trip. Though he�d suspected it when
Sally had invited him out with �the girls,� they had waited until they reached
the fair grounds to inform him that tonight wasn�t just a pleasant
outing for the four of them. He could see the logic in their arguments, but
Wufei suspected that Trowa wasn�t going to be terribly happy at being cornered
like this.
�Well, we just had to come by and see the show.� The blonde to his left
smiled pleasantly at their quarry. That wasn�t a lie, Wufei noted, merely a
half-truth. The women had been interested in seeing the show� and he had to
admit that it hadn�t been terrible. Trowa�s acts had been actually
interesting, even if he had little to no doubt that Trowa was entirely safe
during all of his �death-defying� stunts. �It�s been such a long time since
we�ve all seen you.�
Trowa nodded. He glanced at Lady Une and then the Chinese boy, neither of
whom had yet to say anything. When the other boy�s eyes landed upon him, Wufei
shrugged and stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jacket to warm
them. All four of them were wearing their jackets, though there were street
clothes underneath them, and thus had had the benefit of no one wanting to be
anywhere near them. They were also a major clue that this was not merely a
social call.
�I hope you enjoyed it,� the clown replied smoothly. He didn�t seem inclined
to invite them into the trailer or to even move from the door of it, despite that
he was standing shirtless in pants which couldn�t possibly be thick enough to
warm him. Wufei admired the fact that Trowa wasn�t even shivering; or he would
have, that was, if he weren�t getting annoyed with having to stare up the two
foot difference in height currently between them. Until this moment he�d
thought that Duo was tall�.
The six inches between the ground and the first step up into the trailer
didn�t help anything, either.
�We did,� Une replied and tilted her head, �Might we come in a moment?�
Trowa didn�t budge from the doorway. Instead he leaned against the side of
it and crossed his arms over his chest. From this angle, Trowa�s bangs didn�t
hide anything from the four people standing below him; it didn�t matter,
though. Trowa�s face was as unreadable as stone. �You can� when you tell me
what it is you�re after.�
A slight smirk twisted one corner of Une�s lips. �We�d rather not discuss
that in the cold.� What she really meant was that she didn�t want to discuss it
where others could hear. Wufei and Trowa�s eyes met again and Wufei offered the
boy nothing more than a lifted brow.
�We don�t have a warrant,� Noin interjected, her voice pitched carefully so
that it wouldn�t carry too far into the night. �You know we can�t demand
anything. We just wanted to come, as friends, and ask a few questions.�
After a moment of careful deliberation Trowa moved back into the trailer.
They took the door he left open as an invitation and, one by one, entered the
small living space. The last one in, Wufei turned to close the door and paused.
Black eyes piercing out into the night beyond, he looked around the otherwise
deserted set up for the movement he�d thought he�d seen out of the corner of
his eye. Then a member of the crew laughed nearby, exiting the big top with
some equipment and Wufei relaxed. Writing himself off as paranoid, Wufei shut
the door.

++//\++
The station that Quatre had the car radio tuned to was mostly static and
neither boy really cared. Duo�s eyes stared fuzzily at the brilliant red lights
marking the rear of the car head of them. Finally he blinked and his eyes
burned with the sensation that he�d left them open a little too long. Leaving
the fairgrounds was proving to be as difficult as it hadn�t been
reaching them. They�d been stuck in traffic for the past half-hour and had
barely moved an inch.
In the driver�s seat beside him Quatre tapped one hand on the steering wheel
in time with the beat of the barely audible music, the rest of his body leaned
casually against the door of the car. The blue eyes underneath his semi-wild
blond bangs were distant. Duo had no doubts as to his friend�s ability to drive
a car, but he did notice that when the van in front of them crawled forward
several feet, it took Quatre a minute to realize and move their car as well.
�Sure you don�t want me to drive?� he asked quietly, though he knew that
he�d be no better.
�Nah,� Quatre muttered behind the hand that was pressed to his left cheek
that was currently obscuring half of his mouth. His temple rested against the
window, and Duo wondered if the cold was helping with the headache his friend
had mentioned. Instead of asking, he just shifted in his seat and tried to make
himself a little more comfortable.
�You�re sure you don�t have any idea what they wanted?� Quatre asked in that
same monotone voice which Duo had come to associate with his friend�s most
introspective moments. Closing his eyes against the glare from the various
vehicular lights surrounding them, Duo barely managed to bite off the aggravated
sigh that question induced. Did he have any idea what Wufei was doing
questioning Trowa at the circus? No, no he didn�t�why? Because the man had
turned him down when he�d wanted to go to that very place; because Une, and
Sally, and Noin had all thought to take his partner on this little foray and
leave him out in the dark.
Well aware that he was acting like a petulant child, Duo just shook his
head. �Maybe they were asking him questions about the stunts he was doing. That
tightrope act had to be against some sort of safety regulations.�
Quatre�s made a rude noise which seemed like the most appropriate response
to such a ludicrous statement. �Too bad we didn�t get to see him ourselves,
though,� Duo continued on to try and relieve the mood a little, �I was hoping
he�d still be in that outfit. Or a towel.�

�Duo!� Duo heard, not saw, Quatre sit up straight in shock. Without having to
open his eyes he knew that the other boy would be staring at him, slack jawed
and eyes side. A squeak of leather informed him that Quatre�s hands had also
reflexively grabbed the steering wheel.

�Eyes on the road, fluff ball,� Duo replied with a teasing smirk. When there
wasn�t any response to that, he continued, �It isn�t as if you weren�t thinking
it yourself. The man looked good. He was always kind of muscular, but
he�s really filled out since he went full-time circus freak.�
�You� you really are incorrigible.� Peeking one eye open, Duo glanced into
the rearview mirror. Quatre had it turned at such an angle that he was easily able
to see the faint blush on the Arab�s cheeks without having to turn to do so. Of
course, it could have just been the reflection of the brake lights� Duo chose
to believe that it wasn�t.
�Trowa looked healthy,� Quatre admitted when the silence had stretched to an
uncomfortable measure.
Now Duo did turn his head, eyebrows lifting in question as he stared at the
blond next to him. �Healthy?�
�He did!� The frown on Quatre�s cheeks puffed them faintly, giving him
something akin to a chipmunk�s appearance. By some strange twist of fate,
Quatre�s body hadn�t change noticeably since the war�not compared to the rest
of the boys he�d fought beside. Though he�d grown an inch or two and lost most
of the baby fat left in his face, he was still remarkably slender and frail
looking. The one time that either of them had said anything about it, the day
that Duo had found out that, yes, Quatre did in fact need to shave his
jaw, it had been hinted that the cause of this might lie in that his mother had
been of European descent. She was French, to make no small point about it;
apparently it was a topic of ill regard where Quatre�s paternal family was
considered.
�Ah ha.� Duo shook his head and let his hat tip down over his eyes a bit as
he leaned his seat back a little further.

Quatre turned the static off and they were left in a quiet car with only the
sound of the air conditioner, the thrum of the other cars� engines and each
other�s breathing to listen to. Duo continued to watch his friend through the
veil of his eyelashes, bangs and hat. Despite that no worse a comment had been
made than the implication that Trowa was a rather nice-looking individual and
that Duo appreciated said niceness, Quatre was looking rather
disturbed. The car rolled forward another five feet with the rest of the
traffic around them. Whatever the hold-up was it didn�t seem as if they were
going to be out of it any time soon.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he�d said something damning (and
simultaneously consider the possibilities of passing it off as a joke) Quatre
spoke up. �Are you gay?�
From any other guy that question would have been something to meet with
laughter and indignation. There simply was no other response to give it. Except
that Quatre wasn�t any other guy, and there was none of the insult in his voice
that such an individual would have put in there. Instead, the question was
soft, curious� scared. Duo shifted nervously.
�I see what I see,� he answered slowly and shrugged.

�That isn�t an answer,� the Arab accused.
Duo�s first response was another shrug; that that wasn�t acceptable revealed
itself in the way that the frown of Quatre�s lips deepened. With a roll of his
eyes he sighed heavily. �Alright, alright. Fine.� Mouth open to answer the question
more honestly, Duo stopped. He reconsidered, opened his mouth again, and once
more paused mid-vowel. Despite the fantastic show of awkward in the passenger
seat, Quatre managed to keep his eyes on the road; his eyes were all but glued
to the van in front of him, pale blond brows scrunched above them as he
thought. �Duo��

�It isn�t a straight answer,� the braided man finally blurted.
It was a long moment before Quatre began to laugh. Catching what, exactly,
he had just said, Duo couldn�t help but join in softly. He snuck a look at the
boy beside him, only to catch Quatre�s eyes dead on. The two stared quietly at
one another and then began to laugh again, much more loudly this time. The SUV
behind them honked and Quatre collected himself long enough to pull forward the
twenty feet he�d been neglecting.
When they calmed down, Quatre twittered as he said: �He did� develop
nicely.�
�And purple is his colour,� Duo added with an impish grin. Quatre
began to laugh again.

++//\++
�Minister Darlian.�

Relena looked up from the papers spilt across her lap and the fold-down airline
table, a touch of irritation upon her brow. The woman now standing over her was
young by most people�s standards, but far too old by comparison to the girl
sitting before her to have had such a silly expression of reverence drawn upon
her face. Expecting an autograph request, for there had been no few instances
where someone had gotten confused over the differences between a politician and
a celebrity, Relena reluctantly set her papers in her lap and pulled her best
mask of polite attention across her face. �Can I help you?�

The flight attendant seemed a little surprised at the friendly tone with which
Relena had addressed her and that, in turn, caused a small pang of guilt to Relena�s
conscience. She was, after all, a servant to the people�and who was to say that
the woman wasn�t merely there to ask a business related question? �It isn�t all
about you,� she mentally chided herself and widened the smile on her face just
a little.
�Ma�am,� the flight attendant recovered a little and drew a small package
out from behind her back, �This is rather unusual, Minister, but� I was just
readying the coffee that you asked for and I found this among the mugs. It�s
addressed to you.�
The bag she held out was made of pink-and-white-hearted cellophane, tied at
its open end with a red silk ribbon and filled inside with individually wrapped
candies. Without opening the package Relena could see that there were heart
shaped candies as well as a few in simple primary shapes. And, dangling from a
string that was tied around the bow itself was a small gift-tag with her name
on it. Relena accepted the package with a smile and word of thanks, after which
the flight attendant smiled broadly and returned to her area behind the
curtain; presumably she was still preparing that coffee.
Papers forgotten, Relena set the package down on her lap and lifted the
gift-tag in her hand. �Relena� was printed in careful black ink on one side of
it. Turning it over, she found that the back was blank. Relena knew that she
wasn�t supposed to accept gifts without running them having been run through
her security staff�especially gifts of an edible nature! And yet�
Her eyes flickered towards the curtain that masked the tiny area the
stewardess worked in. It didn�t move and it was obvious that the woman wasn�t
at all curious about the gift. Before she�d boarded the private carrier earlier
that evening, Mike and Gareth, the two burly bodyguards who followed her
everywhere, had checked the shuttle for anything suspicious top to bottom. The
stewardess would have had her belongings looked over, of course, and had any of
them found a single thing they would have thought strange they would have
stopped her from boarding.
Which meant that either they had overlooked something (�Unlikely,� Relena
thought, �Those two are both perfectionists to an unhealthy level��) or else
that the person who had placed it was someone of a seemingly unnatural skill
level. Unable to help herself, she glanced behind her to the place where both
bodyguards were catching a moment of shut eye. She�d given them leave to do so
since it was highly unlikely that anything would catch them unaware out in the
middle of space� Relena smiled to herself and opened her purse, stuffing the
bag of chocolates into it for later. Even if he wasn�t brave enough to give
these to her himself, she still thought it was nice of him to leave her little
unexpected little presents.

++//\++
It was freezing outside and Catherine just wanted to get a hot shower, a cup
of hot cocoa, and settle down with the latest romance novel she�d picked up for
an hour or two before bed. Catherine picked her way through the muddy sludge
where most of their personal trailers had been set, trying to keep from
slipping or twisting an ankle as the ground sucked at her shoes, threatening to
claim the high heels for their own. She was tempted to let it have them.
Just as she turned the corner around the home of their resident
contortionist she was surprised to be confronted with the sight of people
exiting her trailer. People that wore Preventers uniforms, at that.
�No,� Catherine realized as the fourth, and last, of them stepped out and
she was able to get a good look at them in the light that spilled from inside
the trailer, �those are just Preventers jackets.�
Still, she wasn�t certain that it was a good thing. Instead of approaching
the trailer, Catherine felt herself hanging back. Quickly as she could, she
ducked back around the corner of the trailer she was standing near and peeked
around it to watch as Trowa came to the door. His shape was black against the
light within so she couldn�t make out the expression on his face, but neither
did it matter as their voices drifted to her ears from across the silent fair
grounds.
�So, you�ll give us a call if you hear from him?� A cold voice asked; male.
�Of course,� her brother responded, sounding as reasonable as he ever did.
From this distance Catherine wasn�t able to tell if he meant it or not.
�It really was good to see you again, Trowa,� a female voice piped up. The
comment sounded a little forced, but nonetheless truthful. That was a feeling
that Catherine knew only too well; Trowa wasn�t easy to get along with on the
best of days and sometimes he was an absolute pain to talk to, no matter how
much you loved him. Catherine wondered who this woman was that she had the
right to sound like that.
He didn�t say anything to that, and another woman piped up, �Do think about
our offer, Barton. We�ll be in touch.� With that final statement the group
began to move away.
Catherine quickly straightened her costume out and turned around the corner
of the trailer she�d been hiding behind. Now out in the open, she passed the
group as they were walking away; three women, total, and a very short boy who
couldn�t have been much older than Trowa. Catherine thought she might have seen
them somewhere before, but in simple passing she couldn�t put any names to
their faces. They were all Preventers, though, and that in itself sent a shiver
or worry down her back.

�Trowa!� She called out with a forced cheer as she approached the trailer. The
boy had seen her coming up and stopped himself from closing the door. The
faintest of smiles appeared on his face and he held a hand out to help her up
into the trailer. �You didn�t come out to the front after the show! There were
a lot of fans waiting on you.�

�I�m sorry, Catherine,� He replied as she hopped into their home and took her
shoes off at the door. Trowa reached around behind her and reached for the door
handle to pull it closed. The lock fell in place behind it with a mind-easing
�click.� �I got held up by some old friends. I�ll be there tomorrow, I
promise.�
�Don�t promise to me, you scoundrel!� She laughed and wandered into the
kitchenette to collapse upon the bench built against the wall. �Promise to
Jeffery. He was the one who had to deal with all of your disappointed fans.�
The look which Trowa bestowed upon her was priceless. It had taken her the
better part of two years to learn to read his looks, but once she had� �Don�t
give me that, mister. You know that costume change did wonders! You were
popular before, but now you�ve got all the ladies drooling over you. I think
you made Arnold a little jealous tonight.�

Catherine reached up to disentangle the headdress from her red-ginger curls,
eyes following Trowa as he returned to fixing the cocoa upon their small
electric stove. �Tell Arnold that he can keep them. I�ve no use for a pack of
screaming fan-girls.�

�Too bad, I�m sure they�d have a use for you,� Catherine couldn�t help but
tease. He threw her a little bit of a half-smirk over one naked shoulder and
returned to carefully stirring the milk he was heating. Catherine had tried to
introduce the boy to water and chocolate powder cocoa, but she had to admit
that his way of making it tasted better.
Though she needed a shower, the woman was loathe to get back up onto her
sore and tired feet. Instead she laid back into the bench a little, shoulders
resting comfortably upon the wall behind her, and let her eyes drift once more
to Trowa�s back. The scar that ran across his back was still as vibrant as
ever, tearing down the length of it in jagged steps. Not for the first time she
wondered where it had come from; he had spent most of the war in their company
and not even when he had lost his memory had he ever once been wounded in that
particular spot.

She snapped out of her reverie when a mug of fresh cocoa was put on the table
beside her a few minutes later. �I put extra cinnamon in it,� Trowa informed
her before his hand left the mug, green eyes gazing dispassionately into her
own. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature wormed its way down
Catherine�s back. Somehow she knew that he knew what she�d been looking at.

�Thank you,� she replied and took the mug up. It was hot, but the warmth
against her hands was well welcome.

He sat down across the table from her and merely nodded, his own mug making a
soft �thunk� against the wood. For a long time the two sat in silence, each
sipping at their respective drinks. �Trowa,� Catherine said when she couldn�t
take it any longer, �those people that were here��

�From the war,� he supplied when she drifted off. His head was lowered so that
she could only see one of his eyes through his hair, but that eye was mostly
closed and gazing down at the dark liquid in the mug he held. �They were
looking for someone and thought I would know where he is.�
�Do you?�

�Not at this moment, no.�
�Trowa�� Catherine began, only to be cut off.
�If they ask you about him, please don�t say anything.�
Once again their eyes met, but this time there was a definite note of
pleading in the young boy�s face. It was rare that Catherine was allowed to see
the child in him; somehow that very childishness in this matter was reassuring.
�Alright, Trowa,� She agreed in a whisper and knew that there was nothing she
could deny her little brother.

++//\++

A straight flight through to L4 was a weary and boring one. Most people
occupied the time by sleeping much of it away; Relena finally stuffed the last
of her papers back into the briefcase she had to carried them in on and settle
back into her seat as the shuttle began its docking procedures. Though she had
taken several very successful catnaps during the time there had been many much
more important matters to see to than her getting unneeded shut eye. �I�ll
sleep when I�m dead,� She muttered to herself, unconsciously echoing her
father�s favorite (and morbidly prophetic, her sleep-deprived and
highly disrespectful funny-bone informed her) phrase.
�Miss?� Mike�or, more aptly, Michael though he hated such a �formal
sounding� name�asked, his deep baritone penetrating her sleep-fogged mind.
�Oh, nothing,� Relena threw him a smile and shouldered her purse. Looking
about her she noticed that the shuttle was strangely still and quiet. Normally
the engines were so loud�
�We�ve docked on L4-RS01, Miss Relena,� Mike informed her in an amused tone
which she took to meant that he�d addressed her several times already before
she�d answered. He offered her a hand to help her up, which she took though she
didn�t need it. He was the gentleman of the two guards, though most people
wouldn�t have been able to tell that by looking at him. �Tall,� �huge,� and
�mean� were usually the first three adjectives any person came up with to
describe the darkly skinned man who now picked up her briefcase for her and
lead her out of the shuttle cabin. The first two, while lacking in imagination,
were unfailingly accurate. The third was simply ridiculous so long as you gave
him no justified reason to behave in an unfriendly manner.
Though she�d been reluctant to employ bodyguards at first, Relena had to
admit now that taking Mike and Gareth into her personal staff had been among
the smartest decisions she�d ever made. Both men were entirely competent, level
headed, and tended to make her day a little brighter simply by being
themselves. While there was a certain level of distance one had to keep with
their employees, Relena had found that she was able to put a great deal of
trust and friendship into her working relationship with the two men. It was
something which she had to be careful that the blood-thirsty press never got
their sights on, though.
Gareth was waiting upon the platform outside the shuttle, as big and burly
as ever. That was the one thing the two had in common, otherwise they were as
different appearance wise anyone could have asked for. Where Gareth was so pale
that one could safely say he �glowed� in the sunlight, Mike contrasted him by
being the sort of dark that she had only before prescribed to the finest Godiva
chocolate. Mike�s facial features contained broad, flat shapes with a rounded
edge to them, making him take on the appearance of a humanized jaguar, while
Gareth�s face could safely be described as being made of squares. Everything
about the man was square, from his jaw, to his chin, to the protruding and
shaggy brows over his eyes down to the tip of his nose; the sole acceptation
was that his nose had been broken several times and now drew a rather crooked
line directly down the middle of his face. Mike was bald, Gareth had thick
brown hair and a beard; Mike was muscular, Gareth sported something of a belly.
She liked to call them �yin� and �yang� in private.
With both of them dressed in identical, jet-black Armani suits they made
quite a striking picture flanking the thin, will-o�-wisp of a Vice Foreign
Minister as she strode through the VIP section of the shuttle terminal towards
the protected departure bay. Certainly any molesters would think twice before
approaching her, but that did not mean that the paparazzi was inclined to let
her off the hook.
Those brave souls defied logic in the same sort of way that lemmings did
cliffs.
The first flashbulb that went off did so in her much sleep deprived face,
effectively stunning Relena into a moment of dazed shock. She went still,
frozen just outside the double doors that should have taken her to a private
pick-up zone designated for public officials, celebrities and other persons of
note, and tried to blink the spots from her vision. All around her the cries of
�Miss Darlian!� �Miss Peacecraft!� �Queen of the world!� �A question!� �Just a
moment of your time!� blurred into one hazy sort of chatter and she felt one of
her men slip his arm around her shoulders. The other�Mike?�interposed himself
between her and the crowd and the trio began to ease their way through the
milling bodies to where a limousine was parked against the curb.
After a few moments of jostling, the two managed to get both themselves and
Relena into the waiting car without undue injury. Her bags were always sent
ahead of her by a private car, so that the security detail could check them
thoroughly before they were placed in her room, and Relena had no worries over
that. She checked to make certain that Mike still had her briefcase and he did.
The girl relaxed back into her seat and closed her eyes. She felt, not saw, the
car begin to pull away from the crowd.
�How the fuck�d they find out you�re here,� Gareth muttered to himself.
�How do they ever find out?� She responded quietly. �We might as well have
expected it.�
To her other side Mike grunted, reminding her very much of a certain young
pilot she�d used to know. The faintest of smiles crossed her lips and Relena
patted the purse tucked safely against her side. The thought of his gift warmed
her heart a little and the ten minute trip to her hotel was almost unbearable.
The same scene threatened to repeat itself when the limo pulled to a stop in
front of the Al Hasha Hotel. Fortunately, most of the reporters had been left
behind at the airport, and there were so few here that Relena suspected that
while her trip had been leaked, her hotel had not. It was more than likely that
the few reporters that met them there had counterparts stationed at every other
likely hotel all over the colony.
Once again, she was ushered into the building in a hasty fashion, and once
inside her ever loyal guards fell into step just behind her. She was thankful
that the press at least had some idea of when to stop, for not one of them
dared to try and follow her into the hotel itself. Check-in was simple, and the
attendant, who was quite used to such affairs of state, informed her nicely
that her luggage had arrived and been sent to her suite. Relena thanked her,
collected the keys and went to the elevator with her entourage in tow. Inside
the box she handed the two copies of the keys one to each of them and insisted
upon taking her briefcase from Mike.

�I�m perfectly capable of carrying it myself, Mike,� she insisted gently as she
pried the piece of luggage from his fingers. While she was appreciative of his
help, there were times when his ideals of what was and was not �womanly� could
be quite oppressive. �I think I�m just going to retire, boys� The meeting isn�t
until tomorrow morning, if I have my time change right��

�Exactly what we would have told you,� Mike informed her. Deprived of his
self-prescribed briefcase duty he took it upon himself to unlock the door to
the suite and step in first. Lights on, Mike made a quick round of the three
rooms within the suite and the both bathrooms, making certain that nothing was
hidden and no one present before he returned to give the �all clear� for the
two waiting at the door. That done, Relena quickly picked out and took the
master bedroom, leaving her bodyguards to their joint room and to fight over
the living room television.
She leaned against the door for a moment after she�d shut it, a sigh making
its way out of her mouth. A quick glance about the room informed her of nothing
save that it was yet another hotel room in yet another hotel� they all started
to look the same after awhile. A king-sized bed that was always cold, a
bathroom far larger than any one person could sensibly use, enough space to
have built three decently sized rooms in, big-screen television, desk, walk-in
closet for those persons who were rich enough and inclined to rent these suites
as apartments, and a small chocolate mint set on her pillow. Relena gave the
mint a superior sort of smile�she had something much better than silly little
hotel chocolates.
The girl kicked her heels off at the door and crossed the plush carpet to
put her purse down on the bed and crawl into the center of the soft mattress.
Sitting in a cross-legged position that was incredibly unladylike, especially
given that she was wearing a knee-length skirt, she unzipped her purse and took
out the bundle of chocolates held within.
A yawn ripped at her throat as she untied the ribbon, but Relena ignored
that. She would unpack the bags that the maids were certain to have put in her
closet, as they always did, as soon as she�d had a chance to right herself
again. Reaching for the remote that they�d conveniently left on the end of the
bed, Relena pushed the power button for her TV and found the local news
channel.
Her hands moved of their own accord, picking up a heart-shaped chocolate and
unwrapping the brightly coloured foil that protected it as she listened to the
newscaster recite that day�s stock information. ��and following the
announcement of the merger, Winner Corp has taken yet another dip in stock as
protesters flock to the corporate office on L4-RS01. Though many sources have tried
to get in touch with the corporations CEO, Quatre Winner, son of the late
Zayeed Winner, it seems that all communication with the man is at stand still.
Thus far the only response to come out of his office has been a firm decline to
comment.�
�In related news,� the female anchor added to her male cohort�s statements,
�it seems Vice Foreign Minister Darlian has made a special trip to L4-RS01 in
order to address growing concerns over the merger and what it means for an
Earth bound corporation like Telacorp to merge with colony located Winner
Corporation. There are large concerns that such a merger, while not only
dropping many jobs in an already unsteady market, would form an illegal
monopoly as well as subvert trade tariffs.�
�That isn�t the only reason Minister Darlian has for visiting us, however,�
another woman chimed in. The moment she appeared, Relena knew that she wasn�t
going to like whatever this woman said. Slouching a little over her chocolates,
the girl braced herself for whatever horrible news that woman�s smile held.
�What news do you have, Tracy?� The first woman asked, leaning forward in a
way reminiscent only of old gossips leaning across their neighbor�s fence.
�Sources have it that Minister Darlian has been in close contact with Mr.
Winner for several years now, mostly through private lines. While they�ve made
no secret of their friendship in the past, Minister Darlian�s reaction this
afternoon to those questioning her relationship with Mr. Winner seem to speak
for themselves. As you probably know, Mr. Winner was recently named number two
upon People magazine�s list of most eligible bachelors�but friends of the man
say that he may not remain that way very long.�

�AHHH!� Relena protested, cutting off whatever other gossip the woman had launched
into next. She wished she�d kept her shoes on, then she�d have something she
could chunk at the TV. Relena reached behind her and settled for a pillow,
though the reaction was somewhat less than fulfilling. �How DARE they?�
Fuming, the girl looked down at the pile of wrappers in her lap and realized
she�d actually managed to work her way through half the bag without realizing
it. Relena gave the softest growl and grabbed the remote to turn the
blasphemous machine off; she could hope all she wanted that this bit of gossip
would remain in local channels only but she knew how unlikely that was.
When had the news gone from reporting facts to being yet another spring
board for idle gossip and pointless filler? She rolled her eyes and slumped
once more over the pile of candy. Unwrapping one last piece, Relena stared at
the small, milk-chocolate heart and felt the outrage drain out of her as
quickly as it�d come. Her eyes itched with sleep and she felt a little dizzy,
but Relena put the chocolate to her lips and bit into the sweet confection.
This one seemed to have some sort of cherry filling� those were always her
favorites. �How does he always know?� She asked the chocolate in the whiniest
voice she�d allowed to come out of her mouth in ages, one that she didn�t even
have the heart to chide herself for.
With a sigh, the girl finished the candy and sucked her fingers clean.
Though she knew she should clean the wrappers up and put the candy away, or at
least change into her pajamas, the girl found herself crawling up the bed
towards her pillows. �Just five minutes,� she remembered thinking before her
head found her pillow and sweet, complete oblivion.

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