Penname: Lady LyePenname: Lady Lye | Penname: Lady Lye

Omnis Est Demens

admin — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 23:45:47 +0000

God meets various characters from Gundam Wing and tries to impress them with him omni-whatnotism. Everything is insane.

Blessed Don Juan

admin — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 09:21:57 +0000

Circa 2002. Eek.

Summary: Dorothy yearns for something she can never have.

Disclaimer:I own none of the elements of Gundam Wing, however, the ideas of what may have happened after the war belong to me. The song is “Like the Rose”, by B*Witched. The fic in its entirety is my own compilation, and not to be ripped off in any way. Many thanks to Amazon for providing the inspiration for a Dorothy-perspective outlet, and to Mouse, GWP and my mother for beta-ing. My sort-of apologies for all the commas- I’m rather comma-happy, and I wrote the way I feel Dorothy would speak for this piece. Thus, the commas. It’s kinda poetic that way- just be sure to pause and such for them, and you’ll get the right tone.

–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘– I can still see him, exactly as he was the last time I saw him; A perfect reproduction, down to the last, minute detail, as complex as the memory of a rose, a Don Juan. They bloom here, beneath my window, and above it, too, as they climb the face of the building. Plush, fat, round, and velvet, red as blood and made of a hundred petals, each exquisite. Within, small golden pods lie, beckoning to insects to come spread them around. Greenery forms a fantastic collar at the flower’s base, spinning outward in a fan of soft spikes. Their stems and branches grow thick as cables, accentuated by brown thorns that pierce your skin without hesitation, sliding easily into flesh. The leaves begin almost as red as the blossoms, and age to a perfect emerald. Every time I come home and see this wall ensnared by its floral lover’s embrace, I cannot help but be awed and delighted. So it is when I see him. For a long time, I could do so only in my mind. I knew his name before I knew his face. I imagined him somewhat fashioned after Mr. Yuy, who yet seems the epitome of these young soldiers’ battle. Hard, and cold and capable, but steadily burning some fuel that keeps him going. Heero is like a machine that way; he is callous and unapproachable, and for that many people despise him, or write him off. I pity him. He intrigued me from the start, for I had never seen anyone with that intensity. At last I realized that wasn’t true; I had seen intensity like his too many times. It was in my father’s eyes when he left to fight and die. It was in Miss Relena’s when she swore never to yield to Oz’s demands for violence. It was in Milliardo’s when he took on leadership of White Fang. This inner fire burns and consumes. It is the drive to change things, to make a difference, to leave some mark on the roads of history. Change is slow, though, and fuel runs low. At last, it perishes, its last embers spent. Yet Heero’s fire has never burnt out. I had the pleasure of observing Milliardo aboard Libra, but I could never see into his head. I learnt of his true motives from his actions, rather than his words. I do not know what he said to Heero Yuy in their last battle, but I believe Zechs did not believe he would survive it. I believe he intended to give Heero the fight he needed to give the stoic, driven, young soldier closure for this chapter in our lives. The war is over, and Heero’s vendetta with his personal enemy is done. With this new era, Heero can become a new person to the soldier that he was. Milliardo recognized the fire in him. I believe that in his heart, he named Heero his heir to the world, the one that must be lead into peace. Milliardo knew himself to have too many faults. He never believed himself strong enough, but, and here I agree with him, Heero has the strength and the will to bring about a new age of peace. It encouraged me when, four years ago, Heero emerged from obscurity to claim his inheritance. He stands at Miss Relena’s side as a symbol, and together they are changing the world. She is the Queen, the Dove, the promise of tranquility and beauty. He is the force that will bring about her reality, and the people love them for it. Are they lovers? No, and neither wishes to be. Miss Relena has admitted to me an affection for him that began as a crush and has become respect, but she will always admit his faults. She is terribly maternal, Miss Relena, and in many ways she coos over Heero like a mother hen- and in the next breath berates him for his stupidity, and shoves him out of the nest to learn to fly on his own. At first it confused and irritated him, but Heero is learning to respect her as well. Theirs is a mutual partnership, but it is not love. It is the cruel fate of legends such as themselves to never find love as lies in storybooks. …When was it last that I saw him? Perhaps… Yes, I believe it was at Relena’s Christmas party last year. She has invited me annually, and I have always accepted and attended, out of loyalty to her. I felt uncomfortable the first year, as did many others, but slowly we have all gotten used to one another. I am usually a wall-skirter at these events, the lone baroness who roams the room amongst people she does not speak to with her champagne glass. I’ll admit, I have the tendency to approach people when they are least ready for my commentary, but they have often thanked me for it later. The young man Miss Relena is being wooed by would never have had the courage to follow her onto the terrace if I had not intervened. I believe the next Christmas will see them engaged. But ever I digress. I feel the need to explain myself here, so you must forgive me my tedium. The evening began as always, with myself arriving early at Miss Relena’s home. She and I live so far apart these days that I must fly in, always at the most inconvenient hours. As my cousins had requested my presence earlier in the week, I had changed my usual routine from arriving a week before the party and staying for a few days after it, to arriving on the day of the party and remaining through New Year’s. Relena was happy to see me, as she always is. She bade me to my room to unpack and refresh myself, promising that we would catch up on the last year at a later time. Travel is indeed wearying, and I accepted her offer, and, I confess, fell asleep in my bath. I awoke just in time to dress for the party and arrived at a fashionable time. My hostess was nowhere in sight, and I asked after her. A woman informed me that she had gone to her office to retrieve something, and would likely return shortly. I could wait if I liked. My cursory assessment of the room, however, told me that there was no one I wished to pass the time with yet in attendance, and so I excused myself to seek out my old schoolmate. Her office door was ajar, and I knocked before pushing it open a little more. It is one of my great accomplishments to have perfected a social mask. It has saved me endless anguish. For instance, if he had seen my reaction clearly on my face, events would perhaps not have turned out as they did. It was not the first time I had seen Duo Maxwell recently. The entire world sees him on television nearly weekly, or however often the news and entertainment hounds wish to focus on him. He has become even more of a celebrity than Miss Relena, and it’s no small wonder. I, like many others, learned of his past piecemeal, from magazine articles and sporadic interview clips. His earliest memories find him living on the streets of L2, an urchin as lawless and desperate as any other. To that effect, he is presumed an orphan, and without family. There are, of course, intervals during which various con artists buy their fifteen minutes of fame by claiming to be his relations. DNA testing has always proved them wrong. When he was still a child, he was taken in by the Maxwell Church, and remained there until the horrific massacre that killed everyone in it, except, it seems, him. Rumors have it that he was not in the church at the time, although the reasons for this are sketchy and consist mainly of hushed whisperings. From these two events, he has derived the name we know him by: Duo Maxwell. From that horrible end, he returned to the streets, until he was taken in by the mysterious people behind Operation Meteor, and trained as a Gundam Pilot. He speaks sparingly of these times, but is always adamant that when he learned of Operation Meteor’s intent he reneged, as did the other pilots, and they became the fighting force we know them as today. It’s really little wonder that when the war ended, he turned to helping those like himself. Hands of Maxwell is a program dedicated to building housing and schools for street children, and is formed entirely of volunteers. Urban legend runs that when he and others destroyed their gundams, Duo swore that if he was ever going to do anything again, it would be “with his own two hands”. He spent the first three years following the war doing literally that: building homes block by block with his bare hands and the help of volunteers, whose numbers became so great that they attracted the attention of local news programs, and finally the entire Colonial Associated Press. Funds and volunteers poured in, clamoring to help, and he established similar programs on all the colonies. It is the largest non-profit charity in the ESUN. But for Duo, it wasn’t enough. He could take homeless children off the streets, but there were still kids being sent there everyday. In recent years, he has become an activist in politics and social circumstances, advocating better laws, and better practices for people to live by. Since his efforts began four years ago, rates of family violence, divorce, and children suffering from other abuses have dropped by nearly a third. His messages are in many cases common sense, but they speak to people, and they listen to him. He, too, has the fire of change. At first the media wanted to know who it was that had brought about these revolutionary changes. They hailed him as a modern saint. But it quickly became apparent that Duo has more than just good leadership skills and dedication. He’s gorgeous. The boy I knew at fifteen has grown into a man that makes women, and men, sweat. At first glance, it is his sheer height that is most striking. He easily clears 6’5”, and has the broad shoulders and trim muscles to go with it. He has never done more than trim his signature braid, and it still falls to his- forgive the term- “ass”. But it is his eyes and his smile that are most disarming, and coupled with his dedication to such a good cause- no one could resist him. No one. Not even me. As my gaze fell upon him in Relena’s office, I felt the sudden flush of realizing one is in the presence of an untouchable god-on-earth. Shock and confusion made my mind reel as it tried to reconcile Duo, the celebrity, with Duo, Relena’s friend. For I wasn’t being met with the straight-backed, proud, flame-in-the-wind that was the driving force in colonial progression. He was leaning on her desk, long legs sticking out boyishly despite his fancy dress, which was probably being ruined by the abuse. His arms were crossed over his chest, itself clad in a white shirt of a similar cut to a priest’s, if the wrong color, and a black vest embroidered in gold thread and a pattern of red holly berries. He was smiling and laughing, relaxed and jaunty, a gold stud in one ear giving him a rakish look. I had never had the pleasure of seeing that light in his eyes before. He was truly happy in this one moment, taking pleasure in the simple joys of talking with a friend too-long unseen. Miss Relena was half-bent over the desk, firing the witty commentary that had him so in stitches. She had left her golden hair falling down her back, unadorned by anything, and I strongly suspected she had been too distracted to do anything with it. She wore a simple red blouse and long black skirt, delicate silver and garnet dangling from her ears and throat. A bracelet lay on the desk half under a pile of papers, waiting to be put on, and was covered in the next moment as she continued moving them. Red has always been one of her better colors, and she never wears enough of it. Peace queens do not wear red. (And in my humble opinion, neither do they wear pink, pink and *only* pink.) But she wasn’t the Dove tonight. “-big galoot. You never RSVP, you just show up- I haven’t had time to put my things together, my office is a mess- and the cook will never be able to make enough food on such short notice!” She was teasing, of course, and straightened as she found a file and flipped through it. She fixed Duo with a penetrating look. “You’re a horrible person, Duo Maxwell. I don’t know why I bother inviting you.” Duo chuckled and took the file from her. “Well, now it’s cuz you’re stuck with me,” he winked and turned his attention to the papers. Relena mock-sputtered at the affront to her political savvy, that it might be dependent on her good relations with him, and looked around for something to fire back with. Instead she found me, and broke into a genuine smile. “Dorothy! Come in, come in- Duo, stop being a hick and stand in the presence of a lady.” My nerves jangled as I walked in- would he really do so? And if he did, would he remember me? Or would it just be being polite because he had been ordered to be? He had a thousand faces and names to remember on a daily basis, surely mine wasn’t consequential enough to span the years. Worst of all, did he still hate me, even after all these years? But I was getting upset over nothing. He never looked up, just raised a hand in deference, still staring intently at the contents of the file. A cursory grunt and the hand was lowered. With a tremendous whap, Relena got his attention back and he yelped. “What was that for?!” “Did you even hear a word I said? Say hello,” Relena has certainly gained confidence and a healthy spirit since the war. She’s like a different person, and all her friends are happy for her, including me. Poor Heero is the one who bears the brunt of it, after all. She picked up her bracelet and went to a bathroom leading off the office, and I could see a make-up bag and hairbrush waiting beneath the mirror. Duo blinked dumbly after her as the door closed, and we were alone. I could see the thoughts clearly on his face as he schooled his features and turned to me. One of ‘Lena’s socialite ‘friends’; essentially brainless but almost sweet and entirely harmless. He no doubt had seen enough of the well-meaning sort in his line of work. A generic greeting died on his lips as he recognized me. His posture straightened and he gave as good a bow as can be done from the edge of a desk. “Miss Catalonia. Long time no see.”

Every little word, With every lesson learned, I think I know why hearts are made of stone.

I bobbed my head in acknowledgement, and demurred, “Mr. Maxwell. You’re looking well.” More than well. In his prime was more like it. I cannot guess what it was he saw, but I can tell you how I saw myself that night. Relena is one of the few women I know able to keep her hair halfway down her back and not look foolish, but I had to cut mine several months back. It now comes just below my shoulders, and I’m not entirely unhappy with it. For the occasion, I had swept it back and up, blue velvet holding it secure while the rest spilled freely in the smooth curtain it naturally makes, cause for no little vanity on my part. My shirt was of the same blue velvet, deeper than my eyes, and fell off my shoulders, scooping just below my breastbone in front. The long sleeves belled slightly, and it fell tunic-like past my waist. It is one of my favorite shirts. Because I still felt weary after travel, I had chosen a pair of black slacks and simple but elegant black sandals, knowing Relena’s home was warm enough for them, and not having to worry about braving the elements on the trek home. At my ears shone carefully crafted silver snowflakes that twisted and caught the light, a gift from Quatre Winner for my twentieth birthday. His note had agreed that over time, enmity fades, and respect for a foe well met remains. We still keep in touch. The earrings found a match for their sparkle in a simple tennis bracelet of finest diamonique. Having had no one to approve the ensemble beforehand, I realized with trepidation that this was its maiden voyage. Damn Relena! This was precisely why I had come to see her in the first place! He nodded absently, eyes looking me over as surely as I was comparing him to the last time I had seen him. I couldn’t say what his reaction was; those indigo eyes were too well guarded. But he held the folder almost closed in his lap, his thumb maintaining his place, and gave me his full attention. I had the distinct impression of being on display for perusal, like an- an I don’t know what. It was rather uncomfortable. “Likewise,” he said, but I couldn’t find any hidden inflections. To my great credit, I did not blush. “I wasn’t aware you were joining us this year.” “I wasn’t. But Relena’s invitation…” he gave a low whistle. “That woman can pull vicious guilt trips. She sent me this long, sappy letter about how I never visit her anymore and I never even write. So,” he ducked his head a bit sheepishly, his eyes dancing with mischief and good nature. “I felt guilty, and I came. And for payback I didn’t tell her I was coming,” he winked. I smiled. This is an exhibition of the tremendous charm that seals the deal on girls’ and boys’ souls to the devil, in hopes of just a few more minutes of speaking with him. It makes my stomach do flip-flops, too, but that’s not why I… whatever. “She’s right, you are a horrible person.” “ME?” he batted those big blues at me, innocently. “Moi? MOI? Duo Maxwell? Me, horrible? Noooo, neeeever…” That crooked grin was typical of him. I rolled my eyes, still smiling. Inwardly, I was flattered that he felt comfortable enough to joke with me like this. Relena swept out of the bathroom, half her hair pulled back and fastened by an ornate but elegant red and gold-wire clip. She looked beautiful now that she was ‘finished’. She looked up and smiled, “There, now was that so hard? Duo, stand up straight- those clothes aren’t made for you to lie around in them.” Duo smirked and stood. “Yes, mother. As you say, mother. Right away, mother.” “You-“ she lightly thwapped at his arm, eliciting a chuckle. She rolled her eyes and smiled at me. “Sorry to leave you with the buffoon, Dor,” she took my arm and steered me out, back to the party. “He’s incorrigible sometimes-“ “Only sometimes?” he called behind us. His voice echoed amongst the cavernous, high ceilings and marble floors, until at last it faded away. It was the last I saw of him that night, or for the rest of my visit. Popular men like Duo Maxwell are pulled in a thousand directions. They rarely have time to chat with ancient acquaintances that they once may have regarded as enemies. He was lost to me in the throngs of people who clamored for his attention, and when I worked up the courage to ask Relena a few days later, she told me he had had to leave that same night. I try not to dwell on it. I never liked girls who wasted their time mooning over men who didn’t even know they existed. But I find myself once more a hypocrite. While I don’t stalk him, I can’t let go. Some have criticized Miss Relena during the war for constantly tailing Heero, but she, an amateur, was never as skilled as I. She didn’t have the knowledge or the resources. I, with all my hideous connections, was much more talented at getting reconnaissance photos and knowing just when to spy. I was curious of Heero because Miss Relena was. In time, I came to realize his significance, but at first I played the games of an obsessed teenager, mostly to amuse myself. I cannot ‘stalk’ Duo. I do not wish to. It wouldn’t be- right. I suppose my feelings for him must run deeper than that. I respect his privacy. Or perhaps I’m just more mature, and value things like that more myself, and the courtesy now extends to other people. I wouldn’t live in a small brownstone in this huge city if I didn’t.

Every little pain Fans a bitter flame; Nothing stops me loving you.

These have been trying times for me. The trouble began during the Mariemaia Incident, when I aided a bunch of yokels in showing their support for the gundams. I had already been living apart from most of high society, distancing myself from old friends and enemies. With this public show of support, I was labeled a sympathizer within the Romafeller Foundation. And there was nothing I could do to deny it. They had long suspected and been wary of me, ever since I had been so keen to remain with Miss Relena in Sank, and they leapt at the excuse to attack me. That my ostracization came later, rather than sooner, I owe to the fathers of my peers, some of whom fought for me tooth and nail. I could say nothing in my own defense, because it was true, I did sympathize with the gundams and what they symbolized. I was allowed to stay on, on a sort of probation. My nineteenth birthday present to myself was to quit the Foundation, and move as far away as possible. They shunned me, scorned me, slandered me. I didn’t care. I was disinherited, I didn’t care. My personal investments, wisely made long before the trouble could become a danger, suffered somewhat, but I knew they would recover. That year, I was utterly alone. No one wrote. No one called. No more invitations came. I felt like a hermit, or a recluse, but I had taken this apartment in the midst of a bustling city. It was very surreal, and the days began to blend together. I suppose this is what mediocrity feels like. People I had known became just people on TV. Two-dimensional; a little less real. My old life began to feel like an elaborate dream I’d had a long time ago. Season melted into season, and before I knew it, it was winter.

Can’t you see that we belong? Oh, how I want it to be. So, tell me, do you feel the way I feel?

That was when the first invitation, and truly the first piece of personal mail, arrived. It took me so by surprise that at first I was sure it must have been addressed incorrectly. It was late November at the time, and so the doves and angels embossed on the front of the carefully calligraphied card meant little to me. I nearly dropped it when the familiar signature greeted me. Relena. It was an invitation to her Christmas party, right on schedule. I couldn’t understand how she’d managed to find me, or why. I wondered if it was a cruel joke, but there was a small note penned on the back. PS- Dorothy, we are looking forward to seeing you again. Come, as always, as a friend.And then I knew that it was real, because Relena was the only person ever to call me friend to my face. I went to the party that year, AC199, and it was an entirely new circumstance. I was greeted with warm smiles by people when they glanced my way. They went out of their way to show me that I was welcome to be a part of their cause. Looking back, I know that it was a political move for many who were there, but there are others… others whom I know took me into their hearts that day. They are the ones I approach at rare moments when I return to Relena’s. I’m just another guest these days, another ally. I mostly belong, and if I wanted to, I could really become part of them, but I don’t. I never want to be ‘part of’ a group like that again. After that party, Quatre sent me the earrings, along with a simple, but profound letter. I won’t quote it, because it was private, but his words and the gesture touched me deeply. I have never failed to return for Relena’s parties since.

Baby, like the rose, Oh, darling, you put color in my life, Baby, take my heart forever, Cause I don’t wanna be afraid, No, no…

I have lived in the same brownstone for four years, and still my life seems mundane. I don’t have to work, but I volunteer at the local chapter of Hands of Maxwell, working with the kids. I know a secret part of me is hoping that one day he’ll walk through those doors and smile at me, as he did at Relena’s last Christmas, but I know it’s not going to happen. It sounds like a silly, pointless crush, I know. A grown woman who’s seen the ins and outs of life the way I have ought to know better. But I can’t let it go. I look around my home, and it’s beautiful, but it’s empty. I look at my job, and it’s unfulfilling. I look in my mirror, and I see an incomplete person who is existing, and not really living.

Turn another page; The story will never fade. Sleep with thoughts of you until daylight,

Some days it really depresses me, and the people I work with and the kids I teach notice. They sort of smile and tell me to cheer up. They’ve given up trying to get me to talk about myself. I’m just this reclusive, rich, unhappy young woman who donates her time to them, asking that in return, they not ask for more.

And when you’re far away, Forever love will stay. Keep this loving feeling deep inside.

On those days, everything is gray. Sometimes the sky obliges and gives me an overcast sky to match my overcast mood. I pray for days like those, because I don’t have to see the colonies, shining like stars above my head. The stars are a constant reminder, but even they can be blocked out by thick gray clouds of depression.

Can’t you see that we belong? Oh, how I want it to be. So, tell me, do you feel the way I feel?

But then… I walk up to my little stoop leading into my little brownstone, and it’s not all gray. Nor is it brown. The brick façade is ever littered with green stalks, threading their way up and back down, interlacing amongst themselves so thickly in place that they appear to be stronger than the wall they cling to. And the greenery is peppered with roses. Fat, round, velvet, blood-red roses. Don Juans. Bright spots of color bursting free of the monotonous earth tones, which are themselves rare enough in this city of cement and iron. Seeing them, so vibrant and full of life, is what gives me the courage to carry on. The passage of time is marked in blossoms, and stem growth. I spend my weekends pruning and caring for them, nurturing nature’s loveliest gift to me.

Baby, like the rose, Oh, darling, you put color in my life, Baby, take my heart forever, Cause I don’t wanna be afraid, No, no…

Duo is like that, like these roses. He is so unlike anyone else I have ever known. Selfless, independent, dedicated to something he truly believes in. Kind, generous, aware. Intelligent, witty, and able to admit to and laugh at his own mistakes. Charming and handsome and wholly unaware of it. He is the bright spot of color in the sea of mundanity. Even Miss Relena and Heero Yuy cannot compare with him. They and the other gundam pilots are flowers, too. The carnations, posies, and snapdragons of the lower flowerbed; beautiful in their own way, but not as hardy or as exquisite. They cannot hold a candle to the rose. I would give a lot to have a rose in my garden. A true Don Juan. The one who stole my heart without even realizing it.

Baby, like the rose…

If he knew… I wonder what he would say, or what he would do. Part of me longs that he would come riding up to my front door like a knight in shining- well, lets be modern- gundanium, and carry me off into the sunset. The rest of me quakes in fear of his ever finding out, despite its obscurity, and the stupidity, as the only way I will ever get what I want is to tell him. But it’s safer not telling… It’s sort of my little secret, something I can treasure on cold nights. I don’t think my heart will ever be my own again. Twenty-two, and I am already bound.

Oh, darling, you put color in my life…

It’s going to be a long existence. But at least I have my roses, shielding my little home. I have my principles, and my freedom. I have good friends in the form of Miss Relena, and Quatre Winner. The only thing I really lack, is a constant bright spot of color. Even roses die back, but not my Don Juan.

Baby, take my heart forever…

My Don Juan… My Duo Juan… My Duo Maxwell… Without him, life is drab…

Cos you’re the color in my life…

Duo, though you will never know, ai shiteru.

Like the rose.

–,-‘–@

“You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.” -Ziggy

~Fin~–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘–@–,-‘– If anyone is confused, a Don Juan is a specific kind of rose. We have them in my backyard, and I tried to do them justice here.

By The Light…

admin — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 07:30:31 +0000

Done by request. And then it outgrew itself. Curses.

Gundam Wing: La Femmes

admin — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 07:24:03 +0000

I apologize. Really. This fic commits pretty much every sin of fanfiction writing.

This was my very first Gundam Wing fic. I started writing it before I’d even watched the whole series. I paired the main characters up with a bunch of OCs. These OCs each had their own gundam–only better than the other gundams, for no defined reason. The OC I loved most fails the Mary Sue Litmus test to a degree that is shameful and embarrassing.

That said, I’m archiving the awful thing for the sake of posterity. It was fairly popular on FanFiction.Net for a while, and I was very proud of it. More the fool me.

If you dare read on, please be kind.

Child of Labored Love

admin — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 07:11:06 +0000

Something of Meiran did survive.

The Dragon Clan was not one to let itself die so easily. In AC194 Wufei married the heir to the Clan. Their children would have kept the family alive. They still might.

ANs: Yes, yes, I’m Lady Lye and I’m actually posting something. All hail my return-ish to anime! I feel so old… I have to borrow manga from underclassmen. Anyway, this refused to let itself go.

Warnings: Swearing, mature issues. Heterosexual whatnot. Science. Potential for Homosexual whatnot. Kids being very, very naughty. You have been warned.

My Reality is Twisted

admin — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 06:09:52 +0000

In which Duo is and always was a girl.

Be forewarned- if this fic does well, I may very well expand the idea to the other boys. Each will be AU, just ‘what if’ things.

I must now thank my awesome author-buddy Mudpie, as I was inspired to write this from one of her fics. Both fics have kinda the same idea behind them (Duo’s a girl) but they take drastically different turns. For one thing, mine has more sap. (Lady: Mud-chan I want SAP. Lots and lots and LOTS of SAP. Sticky gooey SAP. SAP SAP and MORE SAP!)
Disclaimer: Oh for crap’s sake! It’s not mine!! Hell, I admitted that even the original concept for the story ain’t mine! … Wait, why am

I writing then? OH, right! The whole ‘be like Shakespeare but a woman, cleaner, and not dead’ thing. Ah. Yes. See, the Bard didn’t make up the stories- he just knew how to tell ‘em. Thus is me. I want SAP, damnit!! So me’n my lil Beanie Bard are gonna write this ficcy. Ciao.

Other Crappy Warnings for People Who Get Scared Easily: This is obviously a 2/? fic, tho just who that other person is shall remain a mystery… for now… Also, there will be shonen ai (I’m going light in this…) and let’s not forget my carefree use of language, ie: vulgar language. If any o’ that bugs you, please scram or open your mind.

Important: This is What If fic, not in any way meant to take the place of good old fashioned yaoi. I adore yaoi, I really do, but the concept of if Duo were a girl struck my fancy and thus I am writing this. NOT to pretend homosexuality does not/ should not exist (HAH, if my IM buddies heard you suggesting that I thought that, they would probably die laughing. I love 1x2x1 and 3x4x3 and 2x5x2 and gawd only knows what else. Those just came to mind as my faves.) So DO NOT go there, ok? Just DO NOT suggest that I’m anti-homosexuality or anything cuz I will NOT respond well.
And on that happy note…

I’m Too Sexy For My Gundam Songfic

admin — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 05:39:42 +0000

Ridiculous, silly, awesome.

LaF13: Battle Chapter – The Perfect Heart

admin — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 03:17:10 +0000

Andria woke to the familiar sounds of insects and the warm breeze blowing off the plains. She sighed and stretched, not wanting to open her eyes. She felt like a child again. It was the stretching that made her realize she was certainly NOT a child any longer. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and sat up, brushing away her tangled copper hair. “Mmm… Sunshine…” She smiled out the window of her hotel room at the city and beyond it, the ‘wild’. She grinned and jumped out of bed to get dressed. She paused only to open her laptop and send off a quick email before packing it and heading downstairs to the dining room for breakfast.

Heero looked up at her mildly as she entered. “‘Catch you later, alligator’?” he swung his laptop around to show the email she had sent not five minutes ago.

“You got a problem with that?” she tried to keep it light, taking a seat halfway around the table.

“Did you really think you could leave here without me?” he took a sip from the mug by his plate.

“I can take care of myself,” she bantered. “Have some orange juice, it’s good for you.”

“Hn.”

“The world’s greatest conversationalist, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Hn.”

They ate in silence for several minutes, Heero tapping away at his laptop. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the layout of the first base you were planning to hit.”

“How do you know which one I was planning to hit first?”

“It was in the attachment with your email. I read the entire objective- I take it you thought a crocodile waving at me was amusing?”

Andria’s cheeks turned pink. “Well it would have if you’d gotten up a little later… I was going to time the mission to when I heard your yell of frustration…”

He gave her a skeptical glare. She was like the dawn. Golden and bright, but with darkness delicately cloaking her to give her a mysterious air. No wonder he had gotten involved with her. “Ready to go?”

“What makes you think you’re coming?!”

Heero held up her purse.

Andria gasped. “How did you-“ she quickly picked up her bag and riffled through it. “How the hell did you get that?!”

“Experience,” he gave it back to her. He sent up silent thanks to Duo for teaching him everything he knew. “I have experience penetrating bases like that. You’ll need my help.”

“Heero,” Andria kept her eyes down, busying herself by putting away her purse. “How did you meet those other boys? How do you know Relena?”

Heero took a long time to answer. “War destroys things, but it also brings people together,” he said carefully. “Come on. I’m going to need time to plant the bombs.”

_________________________________

All clear… She snuck the last five feet into the office and went immediately to the computer console there. Within moments she had bypassed the firewall and was in. “Let’s see… Training regime… Food delivery… Ah, here we go.” She copied over files containing data on the new MS to her disk. She surfed some more. “Jackpot…” she copied over their plans for the next six months.

Something in the hallway caught her attention. She stood, hand going to the gun at the small of her back. If she had to, she would kill.

“Whoever you are, you better say your prayers right now,” a boy’s voice came from the shadows of the hall. He stepped into the room and Andria frowned. He couldn’t be more than thirteen. “Because in a few minutes, you won’t be here anymore.”

He wasn’t in uniform. She could afford the risk. “What do you want?”

“Just to hack into the network over there. This base is going up in pieces in a few minutes anyway,” the kid shrugged.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Andria neatly flipped out her disk. “I’m doing the same thing- see? Something tells me we aren’t enemies.”

The boy looked unimpressed. “How do I know you’re an ally?”

“Luke? Luke what are you-?” a man’s voice came from the hallway.

“Found us another rebel, just like us,” the kid replied.

“What are you-“ the man came into the room and froze.

Andria nearly dropped the disk. She backed up, banging into the table, eyes wide with shock. “Dagan?!”

“Andria?!”

_________________________________

Heero turned to take a last look at the base. It was running so smoothly- soon it would be in chaos and flames. De ja vu swept over him. With it came the mask he had worn for so long… He shook his head to shake it off. Where was Andria?

“Heero!” She ran towards him, followed by two others- a man and a boy. Heero frowned. “Heero, you can’t set it off yet! There are others inside there!”

“Andria, what’s going on?” he caught her arm and she came panting to his side.

“Other rebels… still inside… my- my-“

“Andria, what is it?” he demanded.

“You can’t blow it up yet,” she said defiantly, looking him in the eye. “The Princess is in there.”

For a moment, an image of Relena flashed through his mind. But shouts from the base, caught their attention. Several people ran for all they were worth from the base. MS were already mobilizing to give chase.

“I don’t know where your bombs are placed,” the man spoke for the first time. Heero had forgotten his presence. “But it’s all clear with me to blow it up.” He held up a detonation device.

Heero studied the man’s face. “Likewise.” They pushed the buttons at the same time. The base erupted in patches- then all at once was engulfed in flames. The people fleeing the base came to join the two who had followed Andria.

“Heero,” she said quietly.

“Who are they?”

Andria swallowed. “I want you to meet my brother- Dagan Ntengi. Dagan,” she called the man’s attention away from his comrades. “This is my- friend- Heero Yuy.”

“It’s good to meet you- Heero,” Dagan held out his hand. Both men sized each other up.

Heero could see the similarities. The same jaw line and those green eyes. He wondered briefly if those eyes also spit fire the way Andria’s did. The hair was darker and duller than Andria’s flamey locks. “Good to meet you as well.”

Andria bit her lip, looking from one to the other. Finally she turned to Dagan. “What are you doing here? I thought you were dead.”

“That’s what we thought about you,” tears filled the tall man’s eyes and he wrapped her into a large hug. “I thought I’d never see you again…”

Andria found herself crying as well. “Dagan…”

“Dagan?” A woman’s voice said. Heero turned to find a tall woman who appeared to be a cross of Indian and African bloods. “Who is this?”

Another loud explosion from the base caught everyone’s attention.

“No time- we need to get out of here,” Heero ordered.

“The bikes are nearby,” Andria replied. “Dagan, you coming?”

“We’ve got transport of our own, little sister,” Dagan grinned wolfishly. “Wynne?”

“Alright everyone, head for the trucks, we’re making tracks here,” the tall, dark woman shouted, commanding attention and obedience. The other people there ran into the bushes. “Way ahead of you,” she smiled warmly at Dagan.

Andria blinked. The look that passed between them- was it-?

“We don’t have time to stare,” Heero grabbed her arm. “Hurry up,” he pulled her in the other direction to the motorbikes they had stashed in the bush. They mounted quickly and were on the road immediately, circling back to meet up with the large trucks being driven by Dagan and this woman.

‘Who is she?’ Stray thoughts ran unbidden through her mind as they flew down the makeshift highway. ‘Dagan… the last I saw you, I was almost too little to remember your face…’

Heero spared her a glance from the road. He frowned in concern. Distraction was a danger to all of them. But he couldn’t deny that there was something to think about. This Dagan… what sort of man was he?

Andria stared into the fire, ignoring the people around her. Dark had long since fallen, and the fires placed around the camp were the only things to light this bare clearing in the grass of the savanna. In the tent behind her was her bag and all she had brought here with her. She didn’t bother to shift her weight on the hard rock, despite what it was doing for her circulation. Slowly she started to rub her chilly arms as she stared unseeing into the flames.

They had returned to camp with Dagan, who had insisted they move their things here. Heero had agreed it would be less suspicious if no one knew where they were, and before Andria knew it, she was surrounded by good folk who liked to smile and knew the meaning of good work. There were times when she looked at them and couldn’t tell these people were fighting a war. There were others when it was all too clear. It was a revolution.

Sudden weight across her shoulders made her look up, startled. Heero settled the blanket and handed her a plate of food, taking a seat next to her with a plate of his own.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You should know it gets cold here after the sun goes down.”

“I do,” she wiped her eyes free of the little moisture that had gathered there as she stared at the fire. She looked down at the food on her plate and her eyes lit with delight. “Curry!”

“Is that what it is?” Heero asked dryly, still not sure whether it was safe to try or not.

Someone’s chuckle made them both look up. “The first time you ever tasted curry was when you were three,” Dagan took a seat on a tree log next to them, speaking directly to his little sister. “You loved it so much, you snuck into the kitchen after dinner, found the curry powder and tried to eat it straight from the jar.”

Andria’s jaw dropped. “Gag! That must have been AWFUL…”

“It was,” her brother laughed. “You dropped the jar and it broke- Mother was scrubbing yellow out of the floor for weeks and it was never the same.”

Heero poked at the sticky mass of- well- yellow- on his plate. “What does this taste like?”

“It’s good!” Andria picked up a forkful. “If you’ve never had it before, then you should probably have some water near- by-“ she and Dagan stared at him as he took a large bite.

‘If you’re going to try it, really get a taste for it,’ he had always been taught… Heero’s eyes widened. He stopped chewing.

“H-Heero?” Andria didn’t miss the watering in his eyes.

“GAH!” Heero jumped to his feet and raced for the table half way across the camp and demanded a glass of water from the woman standing at it. He swallowed it down in one go and took another to rinse his mouth out. That was SPICY! He swore and wiped his mouth off, and slowly became aware of the laughter. Every African in the camp was laughing at him. Shamefaced, he returned to Andria and Dagan.

Andria was trying desperately to hide her laughter. “I’m sorry, Heero- I tried to warn you,” she giggled.

Dagan looked vastly amused. “Andry, your friend doesn’t seem to like it very much.”

“Oh, be quiet, Dagan,” she stuck her tongue out at him. Heero managed to frown a little as he continued to swallow to wash his mouth out. Had he detected a slight accent there? One that very nearly matched Dagan’s and the other people here?

“Dagan, are you trying to poison our guests?” The tall, dark woman said sternly but playfully, coming to sit beside Dagan.

“Wynne, I want you to meet my little sister, Andria,” Dagan smiled at her. “Andria, this is Princess Wynne Amanth. Her kingdom was usurped and we’re fighting to help her regain control.”

“I’ve heard of you!” Andria gasped, shaking Wynne’s hand. “You were on the telly last night!”

Telly? Heero gave Andria an odd look. Yes, there was a pronounced accent coming into her speech that had absolutely not been there before.

Wynne smiled at the younger girl. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Sometimes Dagan gets very wrapped up in telling me about his childhood,” her black eyes danced with amusement and Dagan blushed.

He coughed. “Um, Andry- who’s your friend? We weren’t properly introduced.”

“Heero Yuy,” he said before Andria could cut in.

Both Dagan and Wynne grew very serious and seemed to reassess this young man at their campfire. Wynne scrutinized his features, “Yes,” she murmured. “You certainly are, aren’t you?”

Andry looked between them in confusion. Was she missing something here? “Highness, uh-“

“Call me Wynne,” she relaxed and smiled at her.

Andria smiled back shakily. “Wynne, how did you come by curry? Isn’t it expensive?”

“Not to treat my little sister who showed up out of the blue when I thought she’d been lost to the wilds,” Dagan said smugly.

“And what about YOU? I thought you must’ve- must’ve-“ she choked on the words. ‘gone the way of Mom and Dad’…

Dagan grew serious. Her rubbed Wynne’s back as he stood. “Come on, Andry. I think we need to talk.” He lead her away from the fire to another place to sit and talk in private.

Wynne sighed and watched them go, concerned. She turned back to Heero and arched an eyebrow at the glaring frown on his face. “Alright, let’s be frank with one another, Mr. Yuy.”

“Princess,” he replied formally.

“You’re a Gundam pilot, yes?”

“Hn.”

She nodded. “You can only be the now legendary Heero Yuy. You fit the description perfectly.”

“Just as you can only be the daughter of Kyria Amanth,” he growled.

Wynne flinched visibly. Her mother… “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “We’ve started badly, haven’t we?”

He only stared at her in the same icy way.

“Please, Mr. Yuy, it’s wrong of me to ask this- but- why are you here?” Her dark skin made her eyes appear luminescent in the flickering light.

“To protect Andria,” was his immediate response. He thought about the words only after they had left his mouth. He really was, wasn’t he? He was here to help her in this insane mission she had dreamt up so that she could get home quicker and be safe. “The man who’s usurped your throne- he’s in league with Markiah, isn’t he?”

“He is,” she blinked at him in surprise. “That bastard’s been giving him help- helped him take my place and is helping him stay there.”

“Then we share a common enemy.”

“We do.”

Silence stretched between them.

“When do we start?”

“Now.”

Dagan lead his little sister on a walk through the camp, showing her around while they talked quietly.

Andria drew in a deep breath and stopped, wanting to look him in the face. “Dagan, what happened to Mom and Dad?”

He wouldn’t look at her for a few minutes. “You were too little to remember, weren’t you? How old were you, three?”

“Four.”

“Close enough. Mom and Dad were scientists, you remember that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “They studied plants, didn’t they?”

“They went off on these trips into the Serengeti and they took us with them… but- I don’t know- something happened. The party was attacked and you and I were still at the camp while they were out. Then I lost you in the melee… I was so scared, Andry. Those men… they were raiders or rebels or something. They didn’t care that we were just kids. Next thing I knew, one of Mom’s friends had yanked me onto a truck and we were driving away and they wouldn’t turn back to find you. They wouldn’t listen to me, and trucks were still driving away so I hoped maybe you were on one.”

Andria studied the sand at their feet. “I remember,” she said quietly. “One of them shoved me into the bushes and told me to keep quiet, so I did. That was the most terrifying night of my life. I’ve had nightmares about it,” tears slipped into her eyes and she wiped them away. “What happened to you?” She fought the rest of the memories, tried to suppress them. They were worse.

“We went back to the town but you weren’t there. I thought you were dead, Andry.” He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “You’re my little sister…”

She squeezed back. “I’m glad you had it so easy then.”

“Why? What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“They never found Mom and Dad, you know,” he said quietly.

“They didn’t… I did…” she murmured.

“What?” his green eyes widened. “Oh, Andry,”

He let her cry into his shoulder, releasing at last the horror of a four-year-old child who had wandered the hot, dry grasses for days before coming upon the corpses of her parents. A foreign wetness fell onto her cheek and she looked up to find that he was crying as well.

“Life hasn’t been kind to us, has it?” she whispered hoarsely.

“But it’s given us the gift of finding one another,” he tried to sound hopeful. “Come- tell me what you’ve been doing?”

“Can’t.” she pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeves. “Classified.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Don’t you try to give me that cheek. You know plenty of dangerous information about me.”

“What, that you’re assisting ‘rebels’ and having some kind of affair with the rightful princess?” Andria shot him a Look. “Yes, I can see the way you look at each other. Is it serious or what?”

“Wynne is my soulmate, Andry,” he told her solemnly. “The first time a saw her I knew I had to talk to her, get to know her. Now I don’t know how I ever managed to live without her. I love her.”

“And she loves you back,” it wasn’t really a statement or a question. Andria’s eyes drifted across the camp to where she could see Wynne and Heero talking still.

“Mm, yes, this Heero of yours… tell me about him,” Dagan said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“What about Heero?” Andria squeaked. “He’s- well- he’s Heero. There’s not much else to say.”

“Is he your boyfriend, then?”

Andria fell silent, staring across the area thrown into highlighted relief, orange on black, flickering in the light of the flames, at the boy who had followed her all the way into the wilderness. “He was…”

“Wynn-ey, Lynn-ey, give me your answer, do. I’m half crazy, all for my love of you! It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage, but you’ll look sweet, upon the seat of a bicycle made for two! OW!” Dagan grinned sheepishly at Wynne, still scowling at him, a pillow in one hand. “You didn’t like the song, love?”

“I would like it much better if you would WORK while you sang,” she told him sternly.

Andria glanced up from her laptop, seated on one of the logs ringing the now much lower fires. The camp has dispersed into the many duties necessary for survival here on the plains as soon as the sun rose. She had been allowed to sleep in, and couldn’t help feeling resentful, as though she were useless. Since no one would allow her to help today, she had resigned herself to her mission. It irked her that she had not yet seen Heero this morning, but she was kept distracted by her mischievous brother mercilessly teasing Wynne. They continued to bicker and she shrugged, returning to the keyboard, humming the tune as she typed.

/Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do/
I’m half crazy all for my love of you/
It won’t be a stylish marriage/
I can’t afford a carriage/
But you’ll look sweet upon the seat/
Of a bicycle made for two./

She had a vague memory of her father singing that…

“Ack! Andry, help me, she’s bloody trying to bloody- ow, Wynne, watch it!” Dagan tried to put Andria between himself and Wynne.

“No way, go ahead, do what you like to him,” Andria stood and moved out of the way, taking the laptop with her.

“Thank you, my friend,” Wynne smiled wolfishly, advancing upon her prey once more.

“Traitor,” Dagan scowled at Andria. She merely grinned at him and chose a different seat to watch.

With a cry, Wynne attacked and the two of them battled for a moment- then tripped into the tent behind them, lost within it’s folds. Andria laughed as a thousand odd noises of yelping, crashing, banging and tumbling emanated from within. After a moment, Wynne emerged, triumphant, and fixed a loose lock of hair behind her eyes, smiling at Andria and winking.

“I don’t think he’s going to want to come out for a while,” Wynne said slyly.

“Oh? What’d you do to him?” Andria giggled.

Wynne arched an eyebrow at her. “You’re too young, aren’t you?”

“I’m nineteen!”

“Maybe not, then,” Wynne took a seat beside her.

Muttering, curses, Dagan came out, rubbing his head. “Vicious women… conspiring against me…”

“They’re by the stream, now go help them already!” Wynne ordered. He wandered away in the direction of the river, still grumbling. “Men… I’m sorry- he is your brother but-“

“Don’t apologize! He’s worse now than when we were kids, I can tell,” Andria laughed. “Besides, you seem to like him enough.”

“Mm, yes, though sometimes I wonder why,” Wynne smiled after him fondly.

That look of happy contentment in the one you loved sent a small pang through Andria’s heart. She immediately crushed it. She thought she was over that! Maybe she was- but was Heero? He followed her all the way out here- why? This didn’t bode well for his relationship with Relena, which made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She wasn’t aware that Wynne has spoken to her at first, and glanced up, confused.

“I said,” Wynne was smiling genuinely. “What’s troubling you?”

“Oh…” Andria’s lashes drooped. “I- it’s nothing.”

“Which means it’s something very big. Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Andria paused. The invitation was a tempting one…

“And then do you know what he asked me? To ‘take care of Relena’ for him!! Take care of her FOR HIM. Is he BRAINLESS or something?!”

“You must be joking,” Wynne said in disbelief, handing Andria a mug of warm tea.

“No, I swear it! I didn’t hear from him for days after we left and then suddenly at the airport he’s there beside me like ‘which is closer, Sank or Australia? Well, gee, aren’t I just perfect being able to get here so much faster than you when I was so far away, Hah hah, ain’t I great?’”

“How has he acted since then?”

“Coolly, calmly- never phased by anything, but then, he never was. You know- Three years may seem like a long time to get to know somebody in, but- if anything… the last month and a half has taught me just how little I know about him…” her lashes drooped with her voice. “I know nothing about his past or why he is the way that he is… Hell, I couldn’t even tell you where he got his frigging laptop from.”

Wynne glanced towards Andria’s tent. Before it was Heero’s ‘set up’. He has refused a tent for himself and instead set himself as her personal guard. An uncomfortable thought tickled her mind. ‘She doesn’t know…’ “What has he told you?”

“He told me… he told me about his friends…” her eyes widened a little. “You know- he didn’t even tell me very much about them! I know nothing!

Wynne gave this pause, considering quietly. At last she spoke, with the quiet, gently commanded dignity and attention that was so common of wise people here. “Perhaps… he is not ready to tell you. Perhaps he is ashamed of his past.”

“What can he possibly have to be ashamed of?!” Andria exclaimed, frustrated.

Wynne shushed her. “You do not know that. Wait. Be patient. Be his friend. And he will tell you when he’s ready.”

Sound advice. Solid advice. Logical advice. Advice that probably stood a damn good chance of working.

WHAT THE HELL KIND OF ANSWER WAS THAT!?

Andria hunched her shoulders, and knew her bottom lip was protruding in a pout. She also knew Wynne was right- but that didn’t make it any easier. Emotions were harder to rationalize with. She- hn’ed!!? (AN: O.o Andry! You’ve been hanging with Heero too much! Abort mission!! Abort! I’ll say it again- press The Button!)

Wynne smiled to herself. She had made her point. Andria was clearly smart enough to understand. “Well then,” she stood. The younger woman’s eyes followed as she rose. “I think it’s time we got back to work, hm?”

The sun rises and the sun sets, and our lives go by whether we want them to or not. Time is not something that can be seized and held, though sometimes it can stolen. Humans do not really understand time, but they act as though they do, because if they did not, their securities would be undermined.

On Earth, time can be witnessed in the progression of natural things; seasons, weather, days. The dramatic difference between day and night is so definite on Earth- yet nonexistent in the colonies. The colonies must try to manufacture these same things, and fool their bodies into believe that they are still on Earth.

This can be done because humans are adaptable creatures. Not only are their bodies able to grow accustomed quickly to new situations, but they learn from their surroundings. Indeed, humans are the very product of their experiences.

If I were to be completely honest with myself, I would have to admit that this human capable is truly amazing. However, adaptability does appear to have its limits.

And if these #%&$ing mosquitoes don’t leave me alone, I’m going to #%&$ing shoot something.

-Heero Yuy’s Notes, AC199

LaF12: Battle Chapter – Who Can Win the Stars?

admin — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 03:15:03 +0000

Estelle dropped nimbly to the ground and slid into the shadows as a man passed by. She had just HAD to hide her MS in the middle of the city, hadn’t she? Well, it WAS about the only place they would never think to look… She made sure he was gone before running up the alleyway to slip behind a pile of junk. Taking out a sturdy, if small, crowbar, she used it to help lever up the heavy metal covering the entryway to her hangar. She dropped the five feet inside, ducked to recover it and made her way in the dark to the hangar itself, right in the middle of the underground network of tunnels below the city. The stench couldn’t be helped.

“Time to give the kiss of death to some more of Markiah’s Soldiers, eh friend?” She said, flicking a main light switch to reveal her massive gundame. “Let’s give ‘em hell.”

_________________________________

“Mr. Winner, is it true that you’re here to discuss buying out Brazillia Connections?”

“How do your sisters feel about this bold move?”

“Mr. Winner, can you explain your strange absence for the last two months?”

“Mr. Winner- Mr. Winner- Mr. Winner-”

Their voices blurred together, making it easier for him to ignore them. Body guards and his financial and PR advisors helped to keep them from totally surrounding him and stopping his progress altogether. Reporters. He hated reporters like these, who looked for the sensational only, not caring what the truth was.

Quatre- Mr. Winner- finally made it to the lobby of the building where his meeting would take place. Yes, he was here to see if Brazillia Connections was worth adding to the Winner’s vast business. Yes, his sisters approved- they had been the ones to suggest it. Of course he COULD explain his absence, but why would he? Really, that information was top secret.

“Mr. Winner- Mr. Winner-”

He let his people turn them away while he took the elevator to the ninth floor. He was only here because it was convenient to his real purposes. Such a coincidence that his sister Alexandra had found a company ready for them to acquire located right where he needed to be. And he did need to be here. Impatience was the only word to describe him right now. He wanted out of business suits and office buildings and onto the streets to find Estelle. Lord only knew what was happening to her right now. All those girls… they were so inexperienced and they were being shipped off on missions like this? When he found her he would- he would what? Tell her to give up and go home?

“Ah, Mr. Winner,” a short man obviously of the indigenous Indian peoples offered Quatre his hand. “It is excellent to finally do business with you.”

He would have to think about that later. “I agree, Mr. Shakal.” Quatre forced himself to pay attention as the man began a lengthy and involved multimedia presentation to prove that his firm was worthy of being acquired by the Winners. It was just like any other presentation… never mind. He eventually tuned it out. Afterall, he wouldn’t be making the final decision in reality anyway.

A loud explosion rocked the entire building and the presentation abruptly stopped.

“What the hell!?”

“It’s a Mobile Suit!”

“It’s destroying the foreign military base!”

“It’s- It’s-” they all stared out the windows in total shock.

“It’s a gundam,” Quatre whispered, awestruck, before running out of the room.

_________________________________

Mobile suits seemed to pour out of the building almost faster than she could shoot them down. They came at her from all sides, trying to distract her with taunting tricks, but Estelle Brownlow was not to be toyed with. With a yell she aimed straight at the source. “Target Lock- accept your Final Kiss!” The hangar burst into flames and she smiled grimly.

She looked down at her beeping radar. “What the-?!” Something new was heading into the battle zone. It distracted her so much that she nearly didn’t see the suit flying straight for her face. “AH!” she quickly got her weapon between her and it and fired. “Shite, that was close…”

“This is Former Gundam Pilot 04, I demand that you state your name and intentions,” a voice buzzed through over the comm.

“Gundam Pilot?” Estelle blinked. “I thought they disappeared after the war… You can call me Dame 02, Pilot 04. I’m here to wipe out as much of this base as I can. I suggest you get out of my way.” Gundams… predecessor to her precious gundame. She racked her brain for everything Madam Anthony had ever told them. The five young gundam pilots who had fought in the last war were supposed to be the toughest soldiers of their time. But they had disappeared into the stuff of legends, hadn’t they? The war had been so very, very long ago… She watched a Virgo come into her field of vision.

“Are you the same suit that fought in Sydney?”

“How would you know that?” she quickly cut down another Capricorn.

“I was there.”

So familiar… she knew it sounded familiar… if she could just think who- she prepared to fire again.

“You’re Estelle, aren’t you?”

Her eyes widened in shock and the cannon’s blast missed it’s course by a long shot, destroying one of the buildings instead of the latest MS. “Who the hell are you?” she croaked. “Who are you!?” she angrily turned the cannon on him. A fuzzy image began to appear on the comm. She squinted at it. Bl-blonde hair? And blue eyes and- and- “QUATRE!” she screamed as a Scorpio plowed into him from behind. She could hear his yell over the comm., but couldn’t bear to watch the pain register on his face as his suit collapsed to the ground. “Quatre! Quatre! You- Damn you, Markiah!” she destroyed every suit in the vicinity, taking the rest of the base down with them. “Quatre-” she couldn’t get the gundame to move fast enough and she jumped down from the cockpit, running to his fallen MS. “Quatre!”

“Uhh,” he groaned, managing to open the hatch before worrying about his injuries. “Estelle…”

“Quatre!” she scrambled into the cockpit of the Virgo. “Are you hurt? What are you doing here? Are you crazy or something? How could you-” she stopped helping him, frozen in shock. She stared into his pure face. His angelic blue eyes looked back at her calmly, if in pain. He knew what she would say next. “You’re- you’re a gundam pilot?” she whispered.

“Was,” he corrected, then winced in pain.

“Here, let me help you,” she pulled away the seat belts and helped him to stand. “Why are you here, Quatre?”

“No time… they’ll come soon,” he nodded in the direction of sirens already rapidly approaching and flinched.

“Let’s get you out of here,” she dug in her pocket for a voice command remote and spoke into it. “Forward, three. Reach down, 20. Wait for further.” She swore as she saw red trickling down the back of Quatre’s shirt. The giant MS moved by itself to reach down 20 or so feet and extend it’s hand to them. Estelle helped Quatre to stand then directed the arm to bring them to the cockpit where she quickly got them off the scene.

_________________________________

Quatre woke hours later to the feeling of something cool and damp being gently rubbed across his head. A soothing ‘sh’ calmed his racing heart and he was able to relax enough to open his eyes.

Estelle smiled down at him in the dingy light. “Glad to see you’re awake.” She rewet the cloth and finished washing his face of all the dust. “How do you feel?”

“Uh, sore,” he said honestly, trying to sit up.

“Don’t,” she placed a gentle hand on his chest, unknowingly making it beat faster. “I don’t know how badly you were injured yet. What were you thinking, Quatre?”

The concern in her eyes made his heart soar, and he swallowed hard to try to suppress the feeling. What was he thinking? He didn’t need to think. He would go anywhere for her. He looked around the room for the first time. It was small and badly lit in the back where they were, though a window brightened what could be called a kitchen come living area. He was lying on a rusty metal bedframe softened only by a fairly thick, if hard mattress.

Estelle pushed a wavy wisp of hair behind her ear and into the scarf she had tied over it. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, no, thanks. Estelle, why did you come here?” he managed to pull himself up a little so he could see her better.

She busied herself putting away the washcloth and bowl of water. “I don’t know how much I can tell you… I mean, in a way, you lied to me, Quatre,” she turned to face him. Hurt and betrayal was there, but not anger. “You were in that battle- I recognize your voice now.”

Quatre could feel anger rising in his voice. “If you want to talk about lying-”

She looked away, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not denying that I lied to you as well.”

Good god she was gorgeous standing there in the light from the window next to the sink. So simple and so open and honest. “I forgive you if you can forgive me.”

“Done,” tears welled a little in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away. “Quatre, you’re my best friend. I’m so glad you’re here,” she strode over and hugged him tightly.

Startled, he hugged her back. Best- friend? “But Estelle, why did you come?” he held her away from him so he could see into her face.

She sat on the bed next to him so they could talk. “It’s because of that Markiah guy. He’s out to take over the world. We girls had to split up to try to cover all his biggest bases. So I’m here trying to wipe out as much of his military force as I can. It’s as simple as that. And please don’t be angry with Relena, it’s not her fault. She didn’t want us to go.”

“But- you have so little experience,” the worry was written all over his face. “You’ve lived in that Keep your whole lives- how can you expect to do all this alone?”

“We were trained excellently at ‘that Keep’,” she replied curtly. “Besides, it’s not like you gundam pilots did much before you got the gundams.”

That stung. “That’s not entirely true. Some of us did fight for years before Operation Meteor.”

“Oh yeah? Who? Who are these other ‘experienced pilots’?” she asked, then it dawned on her. “Th- those other boys- your friends- are they-?”

“Yes. Trowa, Duo, Wufei, Heero and I were the pilots of the gundams,” he said honestly. “And you five girls? You all pilot those- gundame?”

“Lying bastards!” Estelle stood quickly and started to pace. Quatre stared at her, surprised. “All of that and neither side ever knew- ARGH!” she kicked over a chair, venting her frustration. “Heero… he didn’t need to train with us, did he? Is he one of those ‘experienced pilots’?”

“Yes, he is. So is Trowa. Wufei fought as well. Duo lived on the streets. I lived a pampered life.” He hung his head, finally realizing it. “I’m probably the last person to be talking about having experience…”

Estelle closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten. Damn her temper. Damn it to all hell and gone. “Quatre, I’m sorry. I- I- shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s just- we could really use your help,” she said honestly, startling him into looking up. “It’s true. We DON’T know what it’s really like to be out here. We could certainly use your help. Are you willing to give it?” there was pleading in her eyes now. She was afraid. In her heart of hearts, she was afraid to do this alone.

“I’ll help,” he agreed immediately. “I don’t know if I can speak for the others, but I will help.”

“Thank you,” she whispered gratefully.

The butler supervising in the relatively small house Quatre had rented for his stay blinked as his master got out of a taxi and helped a girl nearly his height and with hair only a few shades darker out of the taxi.

“Master Quatre?” he asked.

“Rudolph, this is Ms. Brownlow,” Quatre lead her up the steps. “She’s an old friend of mine. She’ll be staying in the house with us. She’s to be given full privileges and will need to keep her own hours. Understood?” (AN: NO it’s not Rashid. Get over it.)

“Yes, Master Quatre,” he bowed uncertainly and let them pass. Who’d have thought he’d ever go for one of THOSE!?”

Inside, Estelle tried to cover laughter with her hands. Quatre gave her an odd look. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, you know what they’re going to think,” she giggled.

“What do you mean?” he blinked, wide-eyed and innocent.

“They’ll think I’m your pet whore or something,” she laughed, mischief sparkling in her crystalline eyes. “Nothing further from the truth, hmm?”

Quatre went a few shades paler than normal. “Oh no,” he muttered, blushing.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like we’re going to fuel the rumors,” she laughed again. “They’ll think it’s the oddest relationship ever! Come on, I want to get settled. There’s a lot to do still.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said dazedly. “Upstairs, third left.”

“Thanks again, Quatre,” she leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly, winking before heading upstairs.

Quatre sighed and let his head drop, but he was smiling. This WOULD drive the servants crazy, wouldn’t it?

“Master Quatre?” Rashid of the Maganauc Corp was staring at him.

“Don’t worry, Rashid,” Quatre laughed, suddenly becoming aware of all the huge bruises he had sustained. Nothing more serious though, luckily. “We’re just going to have an interesting stay here,” he looked up the staircase fondly.

_________________________________

The next morning happened to be a Saturday and so they spent it quietly. Quatre spread out at a worktable in the spacious sitting room and Estelle sat in the window seat, drawing what she saw.

Quatre threw down his pen in frustration. The incredible wordiness of the documents lead to the same thing every time it seemed- someone trying to create a loophole for themselves. He had to read each one through to find the error, and if it sounded reasonable, he usually had to read it three more times to find the loophole which was guaranteed to be a thousand times worse than those that were obvious. He rejected document after document, knowing that if he didn’t someone else might not catch the problems.

Estelle looked up briefly from her work. “What’s the problem?”

“This business deal… if we bought out the company, we’d acquire our on ISP and would be able to give the product to all our employees at home as well as at work and could still make a profit selling it to others. But their lawyers have come up with the most insidious contracts,” he sighed.

“Why don’t you write one and present it to them?” she continued to sketch.

Quatre turned to look at her, blinking. “You know, I never thought of that.”

“Just tell them what your requirements are and if they can’t or won’t meet them, then don’t make the deal,” she said sensibly.

Quatre took a moment to think about this. “Estelle, you’re brilliant!”

“But of course,” she smiled teasingly. The smile stayed as Quatre telephoned his people (AN: yes, they were WAY too stupid to think of this on their own… people tend to lose perspective when under pressure…).

The next few mornings passed similarly, with Estelle working on her laptop to try to hack into the network of the next base she was targeting. Quatre spent the afternoons in meetings but they had the evenings together to talk and to grow even closer than before. There was a real bond between them, one that would be hard to break.

The fact that it wasn’t the sort of bond Quatre so obviously wanted was beside the point.

_________________________________

AN:

Lady: *WEEPS*

Duo: *pats her head awkwardly* There, there, it’s ok… You’re not a failure at writing…

Lady: But- but- it’s WRITER’S BLOCK! I just cannot write this middle portion! And this is the second time this has happened!!

Duo: So just TELL THEM what’s supposed to happen and get it over with! Jump to the good parts! Believe me, the other BCs are more than long enough! *pout* Except mine. Mine is too short. Wufei’s is a lot longer.

Lady: You’ll take what you get and like it. :p Ok, people, here’s the deal:

Quatre has fallen deeply in love with Estelle- he traveled halfway around the world for her! Stelly, the amazingly unobservant artist, is completely unaware of his deeper feelings for her. Really, the casual, open friendliness between them is worse for Quatre, who is trying his best in this time to get to know her still better and win her heart. This is something you won’t see often, people: A frustrated Quatre. He loves her- she’s oblivious. He wants to protect her- he has no MS. He’s constantly being bothered by work. He doesn’t have any kind of outlet. When I say ‘frustrated’, I mean ‘aggravated to the point of cracking if something doesn’t happen soon’. And still she’s oblivious. Oi, am I vicious or what? Yeah, I’m having trouble writing and showing all this… Let’s jump to somewhere near the end of their stay here…

Duo: *coughs* Firstly- everyone, here is the great part about contacting Lady Lye- she actually listens to you. Show’em, babe.

Lady: *eyes shine* YEEEEEEES… Via the WONDERFUL MIRACLE that is Instant Messaging, Pagemaster suggested a song to help me bridge the gap here!! THANK YOU, PAGEMASTER-CHAN!! *hugs and hands Pagemaster a prize of her choice of La Femmes plushie* See? Contacting me is NOT a waste of time and I will NOT turn you down. The more real reader feedback I get, the happier I am.

Duo: You mean the bigger your ego is.

Lady: :p You kidding me? I get the most honest constructive criticism from people I IM cuz they get to know me! So don’t be afraid- speak up!!

Duo: ^_^ It’s ok to harass her into writing more, too…

Lady: BAKA! *bops him on the head* ^^; No threats, please… They aren’t nearly as effective… Right, songfic time! Whoo hoo! ^_^ Ja ne, minna-chan! Wave to the people, Duo!

Duo: *waves feebly as the scene cuts*

_________________________________

(AN: The song is “Complicated” by Carolyn Dawn Johnson. Yes, I’m keeping track of all the music I use for a Femme-y soundtrack that will be posted on my website upon completion, along, hopefully, with lyrics and places to find it and stuff. So, here’s a disclaimer- it ain’t mine. It’s from Quattie’s POV, which might sound strange, but I like the gentle tone of it, and for those who don’t know- Quatre’s voice in the original Japanese is played by a woman. So it’s really not that weird. :p)

I’m so scared that
The way that I feel
Is written all over my face
When you walk into the room
I wanna find a hiding place

*Quatre is speaking with Rashid while waiting for his breakfast to be served when Estelle walks in, cheerful as always, and plops herself into a seat, pleasantly inquiring after Rashid and the other Maguanacs. The conversation falls on Quatre’s dead ears as he finds himself staring at her. He shakes himself out of it before either can notice and casually butters his toast.*

We used to laugh
We used to hug
The way that old friends do
But now a smile and
A touch of your hand
Just make me come unglued

*Estelle and Quatre are walking through the shopping district, several Maguanac attendants in the vicinity to keep an eye on them. She talks and Quatre listens= or tries to- he keeps getting distracted. She is pushed into him by a fellow pedestrian and apologizes, continuing as though nothing has happened, but Quatre is lost to the world; disjointed.*

It’s such a contradiction
Do I lie or tell the truth?
Is it fact or fiction
The way I feel for you?

*Quatre watches Estelle from the doorway as she works at her laptop, bent over in concentration.*

It’s so complicated
I’m so frustrated
I wanna hold you close
I wanna push you away
I wanna make you go
I wanna make you stay
Should I say it
Should I tell you
How I feel?
Oh, I want you to know
But then again I don’t
It’s so complicated.

*Quatre holds open a door for her, hurries ahead to open the door of the limo, brings her tea on another night where she is working and planning her next attack. She smiles up at him gratefully and accepts, thanking him, but there is nothing more.*

Just when I think
I’m under control
I think I finally got a grip
Another friend tells me that
My name is always
On your lips

*Rashid and Quatre are going over a new upgrade for the Maguanacs, when Rashid looks to Quatre seriously and asks him if Quatre’s favorite cookie really is peanut butter. Quatre blinks in surprise and stammers a yes- how did he know? Why, Estelle told him.*

They say I’m more
Than just a friend
They say I must be blind
Well I admit that
I’ve seen you watch me
From the corner of your eye

*Quatre has fallen asleep at his desk, contracts and legal documents spread about him for a pillow. Estelle peers in, smiles fondly, and returns a moment later with a blanket and pillow, tucking him into his chair. She smooths his hair back, smiling, but turns away before she can see the sweet smile coming to the sleeping boy’s lips.*

Oh it’s so confusing
I wish you’d just confess
But think of what I’d be losing
If your answer wasn’t yes

*“Master Quatre, why don’t you say something to your lady friend?” Abdul of the Maguanac corp shot Quatre a knowing look.

“Wh-what?” Quatre stared at him, wide-eyed.

“We can all see the way you look at each other,” Mohammad confirmed. “Go for it!”

Quatre was silent, staring at the window. Rashid came in to berate the errant two for leaving their chores, but Quatre heard none of it, staring into space and murmuring, “I couldn’t do that… what if… No, I just… can’t…”*

*Estelle gets to a closed door first, and opens it before Quatre can for her, continuing as she was, completely missing his barely visible disappointment. She also takes a chair for herself rather than giving him the chance to pull it ot for her and blocks all other niceties he might have the small pleasure of doing for her. She isn’t doing it on purpose… she just… doesn’t know.*

I hate it ’cause
I’ve waited so long
For someone like you
Should I say it
Should I tell you
How I feel?
Oh I want you to know
But then again I don’t
It’s so complicated

Another meeting. Another awful, horrible, BORING meeting. Quatre managed to restrain himself some, though not all of his glare was directed at the innocent presenter, who was beginning to sweat and stumble in his speech. His superior, if his junior, continued to glare, tapping his pen on the table, unable to hide all his anger, and making everyone in the room, the floor, yes, the entire building nervous. But right now, the guy with the Slide Show Presentation was in the spotlight.

He fumbled and tripped his way through, sweating horribly and growing more and more nervous and uncomfortable under that unrelenting, unreadable glare. He finished weakly, waiting in silence with the rest of the audience for Mr. Winner’s reaction.

The pen tapping continued, Quatre’s expression never changing as they waited breathlessly. It slowed to a stop, the Winner heir continuing to stare straight ahead. In one smooth movement, he had stood and was gathering up his papers.

“Thank you, that’s enough for today. My secretary will get back to you,” just as quickly, he had left the room.

Quatre’s closest assistants glanced at one another worriedly and followed quickly. “Mr. Winner? Mr. Winner, are you sure-?”

“Yes. That’s all for today. Cancel the rest of my appointments for today.”

“Mr. Winner!”

“That will be all, Ms Riley!”

They both watched their young boss go. He had seemed so young and cheery before… what was eating him!?

(AN: I TOLD you he was frustrated!!!!! And if anyone makes any baka hentai comments on what KIND of frustrated, I’ll smack ‘em.)

Estelle glanced up from the detailed map of the city’s sewer system as the front door slammed, rocking the house. Alarmed, she blinked and stared to the doorway, listening to the sound of pounding feet before Quatre came into the study, dropping his briefcase haphazardly on a chair and going to pace by his desk, a scowl on his face. She watched warily, as he turned towards his desk, riffled through it, slammed the drawer shut without taking anything out, began to pace again- and then collapses in his desk chair with a weary sigh.

“Rough day at the office?” she asked after a moment.

“That’s an understatement,” he groaned and leaned back in the chair, turning it around to look out the large windows.

“Well, I think I know just what you need,” she said, folding the map and putting it and her other files away.

“And what’s that?” he asked tiredly.

“To come on my mission with me tonight. You’ve been really restless lately and the exercise will do you good. Promise you’ll come?” she pinned him with her intense green eyes.

He swallowed hard. “How can I refuse?”

________________________________

“How CAN I refuse?” Quatre begged, already dressed for their mission.

“You can’t. That’s the beauty of it,” Estelle replied lightly, checking her equipment. “The mission is this: Large, and I mean HUGE shipments of certain alloys have been delivered to a warehouse in this area. We go in underground, infiltrate, have a look around and regroup. Understood?”

“If I knew this was purely to find out information, I could have stayed behind,” Quatre muttered irritably, completely out of character.

Estelle spared him a bemused glance, noting the change. “What alloys could possibly be important enough for us to investigate?”

He frowned and paused to think- then flushed as he realized his stupidity. Of course. How obvious. Gundanium.

Estelle watched it register on his face and nodded. “Titanium, too. Now let’s cart our arses out before somebody decides they want to know where we are.”

Quatre didn’t protest and they slipped out into the night. The industrial sector of the city was quiet, a few late workers, but other than that, very few people to call the alarm if they were spotted. They slipped among buildings easily, silent in the dark.

Estelle had chosen what seemed to Quatre the world’s tightest, sleekest black jeans and turtleneck he had ever seen. Her hair was back in a ponytail and it fell in honeyed waves loosely to her shoulders, a few tendrils framing her face in the light filtering from other sources. Quatre swallowed hard and picked up his pace, following her lead. He couldn’t afford thoughts like that. (AN: *evil cackle* I adore this job… OOC? HAH. Welcome to my world.)

He stopped himself from running into her as she raised a hand and peered carefully around a building, then waved them on. Before he could quite realize what was happening, she had darted ahead and was instantly lost in the darkness. He searched wildly with his eyes for that flash of honey, but found none- and nearly had a heart attack as a hand grabbed his and yanked him inside a warehouse building.

Unrelenting green eyes held him in place as she held up a finger for quiet and then she released him, away again and almost gone in the dark once more, like a wraith. Barely there. He hurried to follow and they stopped before a seemingly ordinary door. Estelle examined it thoughtfully and then reached into one of the pouches at her belt. She pulled out a skeleton key and knelt to get to work, while Quatre kept watch, both of them growing edgier as it became clear that the lock wasn’t going to give easily.

Suddenly the tumblers fell into their place by chance, and triumphantly Estelle stood and eased the door open. It was an ordinary room; more storage space. Nothing out of the ordinary, not too neat, not too messy.

“This has got to be it,” Estelle muttered and moved forward to run her hands along the seams of the metal sheets that lined the walls. Something caught Quatre’s eye and he moved forward to examine it. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that that looked like a very old lock system panel- his eyes widened and he motioned her over. Her eyes lit and she quickly fished out the combination to open the lock, keying it in.

A panel on the far wall slid away, barely creaking at all, indicating that it was used frequently enough to be oiled. They glanced at one another and then followed the revealed steps down at least five stories underground. Just as it seemed they might have made a mistake in coming down here, the stairwell opened onto a much larger room, dimly lit by hundreds of lights hanging from it’s ceiling suspended by their cords. It seemed to be a cave, carved into the earth and supported by man made supports and engineering.

But it wasn’t the room so much that baffled… it was its contents. The two intruders hung back, their jaws both lax. Both uncomprehending.

Massive. Powerful. Thought never to be seen again.

Very much still alive.

LaF11: Battle Chapter – Promise Of The Thistle

admin — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 02:48:34 +0000

Duo chuckled as the ship took off. Kyla stared wide-eyed out the window, watching every moment as the Earth fell away behind them. “Never been to space before, huh?”

“No,” Kyla said softly, still staring at all the stars that now swept around them. “This is beautiful… You used to live here? How could you ever leave?” she finally tore her eyes away so she could see him when he answered.

Duo took his time readjusting his seat now that the warning lights had turned off. “Kyla, babe, I said the same thing the first time I saw Earth.”

“I guess it’s true that the grass is always greener on the other side,” Kyla looked out the window again.

“You mean the star clusters,” Duo said with a straight face. She blinked at him, unsure if he was being serious or not. A hint of a smile touched his lips.

“Dingbat,” she said fondly, slapping him lightly on the arm.

“It’s true! They are!” he protested, laughing and grinning broadly as he saw the smile grace her lips. She made him feel so ALIVE. Some girls had made him act this way before; made him want to impress them and make them laugh. But he had never felt so incredibly comfortable and at ease at the same time before. Only with her. No, he wouldn’t trade this time with her for anything. Not Space and not Earth. Because it was only with her.

“Welcome to L2, babe.”

Kyla frowned at the walls of the colony. “Doesn’t it make you feel- claustrophobic?”

“Nope. Grew up here, remember?” They made their way through the terminal and into the streets where they hopped onto the nearest form of public transportation. Kyla’s eyes grew wide again at all the little differences in even the most simple things. Duo couldn’t help laughing. “You’re such a tourist, Ky. Think everything’s so high-tech and new here?”

“It’s just- odd,” she shook her head and smiled weakly. “I’ll just have to get used to it.”

“Here, I want to show you something,” he pushed a button and they got off at the next intersection. They walked for a few blocks, Kyla still trying to take in everything at once. Duo felt odd as he walked through the streets. Everything looked out of proportion. Of course. He had been a child the last time he was here. A familiar landmark caught his eye. “Welcome to my former home-“ he said as they rounded a corner.

“You lived in New New Las Vegas?” Kyla blinked at the fluorescent lights.

“HUH?” Duo did a double take. “What the hell happened here!?” Where before there had been slums and poverty, were casinos and bars of all shapes and sizes. “This used to be a slum!”

“I dunno,” Kyla said sagely. “Some might call Booze, Cards, and Sex Alley a slum.”

“No- this wasn’t here before!” he protested.

“Are you sure this is the right street?” she readjusted her grip on her suitcase.

“Positive- hey isn’t that-?” they both stared as a man left one of the casino’s close to them and got into a large limo. Before leaving, they had reviewed all the files Estelle had pulled. This was one of the men from the images there.

“I think this may be a blessing in disguise,” Kyla said. “Pick a hotel, Duo.”

“We’re gonna stay HERE?” he blinked at her.

“Why not? Where else are we going to go? Besides, it looks like the perfect place to find the sleazebags we’re tracking.” She said frankly.

“But- but- we’re only-“ he paused. Ooh damn. His ‘birthday’ hadn’t been that long ago, had it? Colony gambling age was OVER eighteen. He was certainly that. “Nineteen. We’re nineteen. GAMBLING HERE I COME!”

Kyla’s eyes popped a little. “Oi! Hush! We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves! And who says we’re going to have time to gamble, hm?” she managed to calm him down.

“Fine,” Duo grumbled. “Let’s head for that one,” he pointed to one across the streets from the one their quarry had left.

“Looks good,” they headed across the street to check in.

“Two roo-“ Duo began.

“One suite, please,” Kyla cut him off, smiling sweetly at the clerk. She produced fake ID’s from her bag and Duo simply stared in amazement as ‘Mr. and Mrs. Jones’ appeared on the screen. “Thank you. Come on, Duo. Upstairs- fifth floor-“

“When did you have time to get those?” he asked, picking up her suitcase to carry it to the elevator while she put everything back in her bag.

She gave him a critical look. “Andria’s taught me everything I know.”

“Ah. Hey- We’re sharing a room?!” he cried happily.

“Ding,” said the elevator, letting them off on their floor.

“Don’t go getting any ideas-“

“But we have to make it realistic!” he insisted, dragging both suitcases to their room. “Otherwise no one will believe that we’re married.”

“Well they certainly won’t if you keep talking like that,” she opened the door using the key. “What are you waiting for?” She blinked at him as he stood there with the bags.

“Pardon me,” Duo put the bags down. He crossed over to her and picked her up, carrying her over the threshold.

“What?! Duo what on Earth are you-“ she flung her arms around his neck and protested. At the same time, she never wanted him to put her down. So close… so very, very close to those laughing blue eyes and that wonderful smile that was aimed directly down at her. She unconsciously relaxed enough for them to get through the door to the ‘living room’ of the suite.

He unceremoniously dumped her on the couch. “My duty as a husband is done,” he bowed and went to retrieve their bags. When he came back, he was obviously trying to repress laughter.

Kyla had no such problem. “You’re a dingbat,” she said giddily. Good god, how was she going to manage as the sane one around here?

Duo pretended to pout. “Just for that, I get the bed.”

“Who says!?”

“I do.”

“Not if I can get there first!” Kyla was not about to sleep on the couch! They raced for the bedroom.

“G’Night!” Kyla called sweetly and shut the door of the bedroom behind her. Her response was a string of grumbling from the plush couch.

The next morning, Duo was up and ready to go first thing. He didn’t want to disturb Kyla, who hadn’t emerged from the bedroom yet, but they couldn’t afford to waste time either. Tentatively, he knocked on the door. “Ky?”

“I’ll be out in five,” he heard her call, and went back to cleaning up the slight mess he had made of the living room. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Gre-“ Duo stood up straight and stared. His voice came out in a gasp. “W-What are you wearing?”

Kyla didn’t appear at all phased by his reaction. Knee-high black boots added a good four inches to her height, leading up to a tight black mini skirt and red tube top. She’d pulled her hair back in twin pigtails that curled coyly around her face. “What do you think?” she turned around so he could get the full view.

“Um, Ky? I know you girls have kind of been cut off from the rest of society and, well, the fashion world but uh-“

“Is prostitution illegal on this colony?” she asked casually, going to investigate the tray of breakfast foods Room Service had brought up.

He continued to gape at her. “P-p-p-p-“

“Prostitution, Duo,” she scolded, picking up a muffin. “Is it illegal here or not?”

“uh- I- er- wha- uh-“

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Great. We’ll just have to make sure we aren’t caught then. You’re not going out like THAT are you?” she asked, referring to his usual black shirt and pants deal.

“Kyla WHAT is going ON here?!”

“It’s called a disguise-? You know? Fitting in so you can slip in unnoticed?” She finally noticed the way he was staring at her and started to giggle. “Y-You didn’t think- You didn’t think that I- that I would really-“

Suddenly Duo’s head hurt. “This is gonna take a lot more out of me than I thought it would…”

She continued to giggle, hiding it badly. “I’m sorry, Duo,” she wrapped one arm around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“So just what is your great plan, Ms. Smarty-pants?” he pretended to still be offended.

“You saw the hotel that guy came out of yesterday. This whole place is one seedy pit of sex, drugs and money. And hey- who’s got better access to their rooms than a whore who makes house calls?” she said, eating her muffin in between sentences.

He stared at her again. How could she be so damn casual about it? “You’re not gonna REALLY-“

“No, of course not. But they don’t have to know that.”

“Great. Just great. Not only are you doing something potentially illegal, you’re only pretending to do something potentially illegal, which could land us in even MORE trouble. Boy,” he shook his head. “Are you ever lucky I came out here.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “Have experience in this, do you?”

‘She knows,’ he thought, panicked, suddenly seeing all the hundreds of explosions he himself had caused only a few years ago. Then he looked at her face. She was only kidding. He relaxed- “Hey!”

“I’m kidding, Duo!” she laughed. “Come, sit down and have breakfast and then we’ll go Bad-Guy hunting, huh?”

He made a big show of giving in, but ultimately smiled. Just to be able to spend this time with her. It was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

VID FIC TIME! Yeah, it’s soooooooo corny but I jus’ couldn’t help it!! ^__^
The Song: ‘I’m just a girl’ by No Doubt. (WHOOOO! NO DOUBT ROCKS! WHOO! Asinine lawyers, I’ve already got the CD! I LOVE it! See, I’m practically advertising it! So :p) Hey, at least it’s not Lady Marmalade… too cliché…

/Take this pink ribbon off my eyes
I’m exposed
And it’s no big surprise
Don’t you think I know
Exactly where I stand
This world is forcing me
To hold your hand/

Kyla and Duo entered the casino, heading for the ‘Dance Hall’. Really, it was just one big strip show. They couldn’t help staring as they entered. It was huge, lavishly, if tackily decorated to give the semblance of a fine theatre. The illusion was betrayed by cigarette butts smashed into the delicate carpet and disarray everywhere, covered in a thick, sickeningly layer of smoke and the smell of alcohol.

Kyla watched the girls moving about the room apprehensively. More were on stage, putting on a show for a drunken crowd of men. Some moved between the tables, obviously designated as waitresses, but others were simply lap warmers and teasers.

“You were saying something about this being a pit of sex?” Duo croaked. His eyes were bulging. Never had he seen quite this much of- well- this- all in one place and all so crudely done that it almost repelled more than tantalized.

She shot him a look. “You’re not thinking about what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

“Huh? NO! No, never!” he protested, cheeks coloring a little.

“I understand, Duo, it’s only natural, I guess…” she murmured, looking out at the sea of sleaze and filth. She shot him another quelling look. “So long as ALL you do is think about it.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he saluted, nodding vigorously.

/Cuz I’m just a girl, little ‘ol me
Don’t let me out of your sight
I’m just a girl, all pretty and petite
So don’t let me have any rights
Oh… I’ve had it up to here!/

“Alright… I’m going in…” Kyla said grimly. If they stood here too long it would ruin their chances.

“Kyla- babe-“ he grabbed at her arm, making her turn towards him. His eyes held such worry and concern. Inwardly he was terrified. That someone would molest her, that they would hurt her, that they might sink to using drugs to seduce her, …that they would be found out. He searched her face, desperately not wanting to let her go. “Just… be careful. Please?”

She reached a tender hand up to brush his long and unruly bangs away from his face. “I promise, love,” she kissed him softly. Before either could change their mind, she fled down into hell.

He watched her go, feeling empty. She had called him love… But what good was it if she didn’t come back? Loud catcalls in the corner made him surface from his reverie. He could feel the old Duo Maxwell rise within him as he shifted from worrisome lover to jaunty Casanova. He straightened his clothes and with a rakish grin, walked down the stairs. “Mission Accepted… Shinigami is back from Hell…”

/The moment that I step outside
So many reasons for me to run and hide
I can’t do those little things
I hold so dear
Cuz it’s all those little things
That I fear/

It took Kyla several moments to get her breath back in the hazy reek of stale cigarettes, unwashed bodies and alcohol everywhere. She stumbled only once and walked boldly forward, looking more confident than she felt. Confidence was the key. As she strolled between the close tables, she wanted to gag. Everywhere was mess, everything soiled, nothing clean. Raucous sounds filled the area, combining with everything else to make her want to fall to her knees and try to block it all out. She fought down the nausea and instead concentrated on focusing on the group. She had memorized pictures of the men they were looking for. Now all she had to do was find them.

Table to the front right, men in business suits, drinking heavily. Bingo.

/Cuz I’m just a girl
I’d rather not be
Cuz they won’t let me drive late at night
I’m just a girl
Guess I’m some kind of freak
Cuz they all sit and stare with their eyes
I’m just a girl
Take a good look at me
Just your typical prototype
Oh… I’ve had it up to here
Oh… Am I making myself clear?

I’m just a girl…
I’m just a girl in the world…
That’s all that you’ll let me be!/

All eyes at the table swiveled to look at her as she approached, a wing in her hips and her shoulders back, head held high.

“Which one of you boys would like to offer me a seat?” she purred. Five chairs instantly pulled out to make laps available. She chose the man who looked most important, settling herself daintily in his arms, smiling charmingly. He grinned at her and his breath assaulted her. Suddenly she didn’t know why she bothering to play the part- these louts were so drunk they’d probably bang a cat. She steeled herself however not to flinch as his hands started to roam over her. This was so not want she always dreamed fighting for peace would be.

/I’m just a girl
Living in captivity
Your rule of thumb
Makes me worry some
I’m just a girl, What’s my destiny?
What I’ve succumbed to
Is making me numb
I’m just a girl, my apologies
What I’ve become is so burdensome
I’m just a girl, lucky me
Twiddle-dum there’s no comparison/

It seemed an eternity that she sat on his lap, feeling more and more ill with each passing moment. But still she played the part, giggling coyly and seductively, letting her body be manhandled. It repulsed more than anything she’d felt in her entire life. Miserably, she doubted herself, her reason for being here. It seemed she’d sunk so low… she felt so light-headed… all she wanted to do was shove these gross beasts away from her and get out of this place. The heat, too, was getting to her. Some small part of her hallucinated… of warm arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer and someone’s cheek she had kissed that morning. ‘Duo…’ With a horrified start she realized the hot arms around her were those of a monster, who didn’t care about her at all. The brightness in her eyes became tears. ‘Duo…’

/Oh… I’ve had it up to!
Oh… I’ve had it up to!
Oh… I’ve had it up to…here…/

She blinked rapidly as brighter light pierced her eyes and her mind cleared. Where were they? They were out of the room, out of the Hellhole. But still the man’s arms were about her waist, his lips sucking hungrily at her neck as they got into the elevator. So he lived in the hotel, did he? She could stand this. Again she steeled herself. She WOULD stand this. There was no room for error here. She do this and get out and then wash herself from head to foot, scrape away this slobbering wetness on her neck.

She cooed to him and tugged him out of the elevator to his room. The fool was so drunk he could barely walk. Again she fought down the revulsion, subtly urging him to get out his key. He was too drunk to do it himself and so she did it for him, pocketing the key without him noticing. She pushed him towards the bathroom to get changed, whispering in his ear that she would do so out here and be waiting for him.

The door closed. With a wordless cry she used the sheet from the bed to wipe off her neck. “Oh GROSS. How do real prostitutes DO this?!” she shuddered and went immediately to the laptop on the desk. A quick code breaker and she was in. “B-I-N-G-O and bingo was it’s name-o!” she sang softly, finding the file already open. She popped in a disk and hit copy. Now all she had to do was wait.

_________________________________

Downstairs, very few would recognize the games Duo Maxwell played. A recorder in his pocket caught every word as he charmed information out of the women wandering the floor. His good looks and smooth voice drew them in, away from the regulars who old and fat and ugly, and all too willing to hit a girl when she was already down.

He couldn’t help glancing at the door. Kyla had disappeared and not come back yet. Of course, that was the plan, for him to be faithful lookout and watch her back while she did the hard part. But the worry was painful. If anything happened to her… he’d castrate the man who touched her. He already has his eyes on the brute who’d lead her out.

A flash of red hair crossed his vision and he looked up. Then he gaped. “ELEANOR!?”

The blond turned red head turned to him, her brown eyes blinking widely. She squinted in the dim light, dressed in what appeared to be typical get up for the area. “Duo?” she gasped.

Oh, ACK! Mercy! Shinigami protect! Duo picked his jaw off the floor. “Well. Fancy seeing you here. You do this regularly or are you just here trying to get noticed as Playbunny of the Month?”

She glared at him. “I,” she said in her twanging Australian accent, “Am VERY highly respected around here. Men BEG for me.”

“Yeah sure, pull the other one. Listen, El, sit down a moment,” he said with a winning smile. She eyed him suspiciously but conceded. It had, afterall, been that grin that had made her want to get to know him in the first place. That and those nice long legs. “What can you tell me about big, bad and ugly over there?” he pointed to the table Kyla had gone to.

“Who, them? They’re business guys,” she cracked her gum. “They’re, like, in here every day. Not much fun… one of ‘em punched a girl in the eye last week.”

‘Kyla…’ he thought with a gut wrenching pain. “What rooms are they in? How about the big guy who’se the boss?”

“HE came in here? No way, you must mean the other guy- He’s on the fifth floor, 5102. The big guy never comes to places like this. He’s real solitary, you know?”

“Thanks, El, I owe you one.” He meant it, too. He did indeed owe her for this.

She eyed him suggestively. “You know… I could give you half price,” she batted her long, fake lashes at him. “What would that little brunette tramp care?” she said, running a hand roughly into his hair.

Duo stood abruptly, anger on his face. “Don’t ever talk about her like that,” he hissed. “I don’t ever want to see you again, got it? Not near me, and not near her. We are THROUGH Eleanor and that’s that.” He stalked away to the elevator. He could only hope he wouldn’t be too late to help Kyla.

_________________________________

“Just a minute…” Kyla called back towards the bathroom door. Her eyes pleaded with the computer. Stupid files- there were too many, it was taking too long! But she couldn’t afford to let one slip through their fingers… The last file loaded onto the desk and she nearly whooped with delight. It was time to beat a hasty retreat! She grabbed the disk, shut down the laptop and dashed for the door and into the hallway, just as the idiot came out of the bathroom, to find his room empty.

In the hall she collided with something big and black. Before she could open her mouth to apologize she was swept up in a bone crushing hug. “Ky… I was so worried, did you get it all?” Duo pulled back to look at her.

Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she hastily brushed them away. “Yes, a whole disk’s worth. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

_________________________________

That evening, Duo watched her worriedly. She sat wrapped in a blanket, leaning against the large panes of the sliding glass doors that lead onto a minute balcony. Her hair swirled loose around her shoulders and she had scrubbed all the make up off her face. Actually, it looked worryingly to him as though she had scrubbed too hard all over. She had taken a long time in the shower and emerged bright pink, unwilling to speak to him about it. He was hurt as well… she had shied from his touch ever since that initial large hug.

In his mind reeled bits and pieces of news reports of rape victims… How they felt unclean and tried too hard to wash away the feeling, how they wouldn’t let anyone close how- He shook his head and made up his mind. It was stupid to worry when he should just ask her and set his mind still, be the news good or bad.

“Hey,” he sat down next to her.

“Hi,” she sniffled quietly.

“Ky, be honest with me… did anything happen to you?” he asked softly.

Her eyes brimmed with tears again. “No. No, nothing. He touched me and he kissed me, that was all. But I still-“ she bit her lower lip. “I can still feel him on my neck. I just can’t get rid of it. And-“ it was a stupid fear, she knew it was. But something in his eyes told her that she could tell him anything.

“Go ahead, babe,” he reached down and took her hand in his, their fingers intertwining, his large ones with her small ones.

“I- It was just too damned close!” she said, eyes brimming again. “You know what could’ve happened to me? He could have raped me so easily… and I would’ve been almost helpless. And I was inviting him to, just by being there! How could I be so stupid!? How could I put myself in so much danger!?” her voice trembled with every sentence.

“Oh, Kyla…” his eyes seemed watery too, or was it just a trick of the fading light? He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned in to sob into his chest. “You did what you thought you had to do. You did what you thought was right. It was a selfless act, a risk most people would be too afraid to take.”

“But it wasn’t bravery,” she choked. “It was stupidity. It was ignorance. God- He barely touched me and I still feel manhandled- how do rape victims handle it?! How do they bear to feel this way over their whole bodies!?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly, hugging her again. “We can only hope to never find out.”

She wiped her eyes and looked up into his face. Her voice quavered. “I don’t want to fight a war anymore… They’re dirty and ugly…” she bit her bottom lip. “But if I don’t, who will?” she whispered.

“Sometimes life plays cruel jokes on us, heart of mine,” he put a hand up to stroke her hair and she put her head down on his chest again. His heart was aching now. Hadn’t that always been his reason for fighting? So no one else would have to? Now he COULDN’T fight and she was in his place. She who had become his reason for everything. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair; to have Fate mock him this cruelly and throw his reasons back in his face. Right now he felt helpless. The only thing he could do was try to help her stay away from the bottomless pit of depression war could bring. “Sometimes the Fates decide to mess with us, and then we have to try to pick up the pieces as best we can.”

She snuggled into the crook of his neck, pulling the blanket over them both. “Thank you for being here, Duo…”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now,” he kissed the top of her head. He held onto her quietly as she drifted into sleep in his arms, her breathing becoming even and regular. He kissed the top of her head again before laying his cheek against it. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else…”

A week later, Kyla sat in the storage room they had rented, atop her gundame. A piece of its hard shell was flipped up like the hood of a car and she glared down at the contents. Something had gotten stuck in the moving process and the leg wasn’t working properly. Unfortunately- she couldn’t see exactly what it was. She gave the Thistle’s innards an assessing look and rocked back on her heels to reach a pair of small pliers.

Her escapade still haunted her dreams, but only at night now. With Duo’s help, she was finding it easier and easier to face each new day. A warm feeling came over her and she smiled a little as she looked to see if the pliers were the ones she wanted. He was so good to her- better than she deserved, surely. He was always ready to lend a helping hand, or a smile, or his shoulder to her, his eyes always full of love for her. She sincerely hoped that hers reflected the love for him to see. He hadn’t made a move on her in the entire week, proving himself honorable, but it was with a mischievous, grim satisfaction that she realized she may have to go out of her way to prove it to him when she was ready to return to the physical aspect of their relationship.

She carefully positioned the pliers around a piece of metal that was supposed to turn easily. She gripped them and pushed. No go. She frowned, readjusting her grip- this must be the problem area. She strained at it and it still would not budge, seemingly stuck fast. She tried again, rising up on her knees to give her extra hold and still it remained still.

“Why you stupid little piece of junk-“ she muttered at it, giving it one more try. She ended up panting and decided it was time to go back to her tool kit for a bigger pair of pliers. She turned on the smooth surface and smiled. “Hey, Du.”

“Hello yourself,” he looked past her to the open piece of the Thistle’s shell, his arms crossed as he stood on the stepladder, peering up. He hoisted himself up to look at what she’d been doing. “Problem?”

“Very. It won’t turn- the part with the pliers-“ she said as he came over to peer at it.

“Ah,” he nodded. He reached in and lifted up another piece of metal. The part with the pliers swung around and a piece of shrapnel from the Sydney battle fell away. “Tada,” he picked it up and put it in her open palm. “There’s a little souvenir for you. You wanna head out? I was thinking we could go to that Indian place for dinner-“

Kyla swiveled again to face him and he stopped his descent down the ladder. “Duo… Why do I feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

He looked hurt. “Avoiding you? When have I avoided you? I’ve been looking out for you this whole time.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. …I feel like… like you’re avoiding touching me.”

He looked at her solemnly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that you were so precious that I’m afraid not to.”

“Are you afraid I’ll flinch away?” she asked, a little bit of hurt for both of them in her eyes. He flinched. It was answer enough. She slid over on the slippery metal to take his face in her hands. “I will never, ever, shy away from your touch.”

His hands trembled as they came up to brush her hair back and hold her face as well. “Ky…”

“Sh…” she leaned down to kiss him and he met her halfway. She let him pull her down onto the ladder beside him and wrapped her arms around his neck, delighting in the delicious feeling of his strong arms around her waist. All was right with the world once again.

To: Dame Addison
From: Dame Kobiak
RE: L2
Text: How is mission progressing? Please check in regularly. We worry. Have you heard from the others? Will set up safe line to phone you and email when established.

Trowa says Hi. ^__^

Be safe, Addison. And your dingbat, too.

-Kobiak

Kyla stared at the laptop screen and the email she had received. Her chest ached. She missed Raisa and the other girls. Her fingers wavered over the keyboard, debating a reply. With a sigh she closed the window. She didn’t know what to say and wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to anyone right now. Raisa asking after the other girls wasn’t a good sign, however. Surely she, who was acting as their HQ in Sank and Europe, would be in contact with them all? Then why had she asked?

Still musing, she opened another window to sift through still more of the data she had taken from the hotel. Behind her she could hear the comforting sounds of Duo in the bathroom, singing. File after file opened and closed, each one both telling her more- and leaving her with still more questions. What were the bastards after?

One name appeared again and again. Jack Darwin. Curious, she searched and found his file. Obviously, he was the ‘big guy’ Duo’s ex had told him about. Head of operations from L2, one of the only people in direct contact with Markiah. Taking a risk, she tapped into their network, more specifically, Darwin’s files. Her eyes widened.

“He’s a fucking spin doctor!” she exclaimed, millions of articles listing on the screen, everything from a lawsuit over a children’s medicine, to an actor trying to cover his affair, to major politicians. Whatever it was, Darwin was all over it, covering it up, distorting it’s public image, changing people’s minds.

A memory flashed through her mind. Hanging out in Relena’s office, Hilde had come in with Relena’s mail. She asked if Relena wanted to reply again to a Jack Darwin; it was the thousandth letter he’d sent. Firmly, Relena had taken the envelope to reply to it personally, looking angry. When Andria asked, Relena’s tight lipped reverie had broken enough to explain that she wasn’t about to do business with someone whose job was to manipulate people’s minds. She didn’t want and didn’t need it.

“Bastard…” Kyla muttered, skimming some of the articles. The man could make killing endangered baby harp seals sound righteous. And- an ad filled her screen, headlining his latest. “WHAT!? DUO!!!!”

“Woah- woah- Ky, what’s wrong? You ok!?” he scrambled into the room, dripping wet, a towel clinging loosely around his waist.

“Look at this-“ she pointed angrily at the screen.

/Work becoming taxing?

Not being treated right?

Feel you deserve better?

Times are changing.

When you’re not getting what you deserve, it’s time for a revolution. Revolutionize your free time by getting away from it all. Join the brave people of Eastern Europe for summer this year and make a world of difference to your mental health.

Edin, is your Eden.

Call your travel agent for details. /

“Edin is your Eden?!” Duo looked at it skeptically. “But they’re recovering from their stupid war. How can they be advertising for tourism already?”

“It’s a cheap ploy… What can they be thinking?” Kyla took the link and started surfing. Her eyes widened. “I don’t think they’re going to let people leave, Duo. Something I saw-“ she frantically returned to the project files she had on disk. “They’re upping their security in customs, keeping people in-“ her fingers flew over the keyboard.

“Wait, what’s that?” he pointed to a shipping bill. “They’re importing some heavy loads of that herb…”

“That’s no herb,” Kyla frowned. “That’s a highly refined version of marijuana. It alters people’s perceptions so that they become confused easily, even after the effects have seemingly worn off. Worse- unlike marijuana- it’s highly addictive.” (AN: S’true. Marijuana’s NOT addictive. Don’t take my word for it- look it up, it’s scientifically proven. The war on drugs just doesn’t want you to know that- they’re still going for the demonizing thing. GAH don’t flame me! Go AWAY! I don’t use the damn stuff! GERROF!! And as far as I know, this new thingy doesn’t exist. Ain’t it fun righting about the future? ^_____^)

“Looks highly suspicious to me,” he murmured.

“Let’s take a look at his next campaign-“ she clicked again. Both gaped.

/RELENA PEACECRAFT A FAKE. DNA PROVES NOT REALLY PEACECRAFT.
Queen of the World? Does this con-artist deserve to rule anything, let alone Sank or the world? /

“Do you think it’s true?” Duo asked, his voice hushed.

“Doesn’t matter. The question is- will people believe it?” Kyla said grimly. “No doubt about it. We go in and shut this down before it leaks out. When we get home to Sank, we talk Relena. Until then, we don’t mention it to anyone.”

“Gotcha. So what do you wanna do? Quietly erase their files? Destroy all evidence? Just say the word,” Duo cracked his knuckles, a part of him thrilling to be back in business.

“I was thinking more along the lines of kill Jack Darwin, but that’s not too realistic, is it?” she said cheekily.

“Nah, we can probably squeeze that in,” he grinned.

“Let’s go with taking out the whole building. Want to help?”

“I’d love to. Scooch over?” he nudged her out of her chair and sat at the laptop, taking control and pulling up blueprints. “We need to plant explosives in key points, here, here and here… You’re gonna want to do this when no one’s likely to be there but they won’t be on the lookout for anything like this… Now for REAL destruction we’ve got that bucket of bolts you call a gundam in the hanger- hey! Stop hitting me with that!”

“GundamE! GundamE! It’s not a frigging gundam! It’s BETTER.” She thwaped him with a cushion for punctuation. (AN: Hey! Thwaped is a word you crappy spell checker! *grumble*)

“That’s debatable, babe.”

“Yeah and I’d win that argument. What are you, a war buff or something?” she looked at him quizzically, hugging the pillow she had hit him with. “You know everything about them, you think they’re the coolest MS in the world and yet you swear you didn’t do much more in the war than mechanics and junkyard duty on this very colony.”

He shot her a sideways glance. How long could he keep it a secret? It would come out eventually, and at the rate he was headed, he was willing to bet that ten years from now he’d still be only a few feet from her. If he had it his way, there’d be a lot LESS than a few feet between them. Should he tell? She’d find out eventually. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I’ve worked on gundams.”

She gave a derisive snort, something dancing merrily in her eyes. “Like they’d let a dingbat like you work on one?”

“Hey! I was pretty good in my day! I-“ he bit his tongue. ‘I PILOTED one. I was the Great Destroyer, Shinigami, the God of Death. I helped win that war.’

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she teased. “Go dry yourself off, you’re distracting in that little towel.”

“Eh!?” he jumped, blushing. Then swallowed hard; she was looking at him in that way that would suddenly make only having that little towel a VERY awkward situation. “Maybe you’ve been working too hard,” he poked back recklessly.

“Maybe I have,” her voice a dropped to a husky purr. Oh boy. He beat a hasty retreat, the towel slipping off his behind just as he reached the sanctuary of the bathroom. “WHOO! NICE ass, Du-babe! Love it!”

“Oh screw you…” he muttered, cheeks going bright red. He quickly shut the door behind him, blocking out her laughter. Mmm this was getting hard… He’d have to do something about this whole ‘not actually being married’ thing.

Kyla breathily whistled a merry tune as she put her hair up. It was a sea shanty her grandmother had taught her when she was small. Thoughts of her family brought on a wave of sadness as she parted her hair in the back, leaving half of it loose and grabbing a hair tie for the other. With a snap of elastic, she turned her sorrow into determination: no one else would ever have to loose their families the way she had. She quickly fixed the second pigtail and grinned, shaking her head so they bounced in the mirror.

Straight leg jeans and sneakers were dug out of the closet, and she pulled on a thinly strapped tank top, assessing herself in the mirror again. Good. She looked enough like a civilian to not raise suspicion, but she wouldn’t be hindered. Grabbing a denim jacket, she left the bedroom.

“Ready to go?” she slipped her arms around Duo’s waist from behind and hugged him, burying her face in his back. He was tense and she looked up when he spoke.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready again…” he murmured, unaware almost that he had spoken out loud. He fingered a gold cross on a long chain, his face grim. She moved to look at him quizzically and he sighed, forcing a smile. “But that’s never stopped me, has it?”

“I’m probably not the one to ask,” she said, brushing his bangs out of his face so she could see his eyes clearly. They looked so haunted. “Christian? Catholic?”

Duo blinked, then realized she referred to the pendant. He flushed a little and looked at it again, cupping it in both hands. “I was never really anything. But when I was little, a Catholic church took me in. I dunno if I ever believed any of it. I sure don’t now.”

“My family’s always stayed true to it’s roots,” she murmured softly. It certainly was a day to remember loved ones lost, wasn’t it? “No armies could ever make them give up the Auld Ways.” (AN: Pronounced ‘old’. If you wanna get specific, there’s a slight twang to it.)

Grimly, Duo lifted the chain over his neck, letting the cross slide down beneath his shirt, a white tank top, already covered by a closed black jacket. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like without the armies.” Never an orphan, never a street brat, never a thief, never a soldier. Never here with her.

“I wonder as well…” she murmured, then hugged him tightly again. Armies of different kinds had slowly chipped away at her life before she could take control of it. Now was her time to fight back, and she wasn’t going to lose him, too. “Come on, let’s go. And remember that I’m only letting you come because you swore you could help and keep yourself out of trouble.”

That coaxed a laugh from him, be it a hoarse one. “My middle name is Trouble.”

“Mm, I know,” she teased, pulling away to buckle on a belt of tools and equipment, stuffing a map in her pocket. “Is Duo Trouble Maxwell what it reads on your ID? Or just an initial?”

“Only if yours says Kyla Mischief Addison,” he shot back, tickling her before strapping on his own equipment. The laughter died in his face. “Let’s go.”

Getting inside was easier than she had thought, but then, she didn’t know that she was traveling with the great Shinigami. She felt a little dazed actually at how he had swiftly gotten them in and exactly where they wanted to be with none the wiser. She gave him a ‘you’re going to explain just how you did that someday’ look and he simply looked smug.

“Never doubt me,” he grinned.

“Can’t say I ever did,” she sighed. “Got everything?”

“Roger that,” he mock saluted, and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you on the other side, babe.”

“Be careful,” she reminded, walking backwards so she could still look at him. Now that she was here, fear gnawed at her gut.

“Same to you,” he smiled tenderly, then saluted again and disappeared into the shadows.

‘The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can both get out of here,’ she thought, turning grimly to her task. Duo may have been the master at sneaking around, but she was surely an expert. It didn’t take her long to slip past what few guards there were and into a file storage center.

Rows and rows of shelves filled with disks, papers and other records seemed crammed into the tiny space so as to keep people out. She stared for a moment at the racks that went straight to the ceiling and then got to work. She needed to find the information they had gathered on Relena to take back to Earth, and possibly anything else that looked interesting. She studied the filing guide for a moment and then crossed straight to the box-drawer labeled ‘Peacecraft, Relena’. It was full of disks. She whistled softly and picked a few up. Their labels read things like ‘Christening ceremony’, ‘Public Appearance 00003’, ‘adoption papers’, ‘private school enrollment, elementary’, ‘Public Appearance 00027’, ‘Public Appearance 00153’, ‘private school enrollment, high school,’ ‘Public Appearance 04742’… It was every piece of data generated by Relena Darlian-Peacecraft since birth. Reaching into one of the holsters on her belt, she pulled out various flat, cloth holding cases, taking off the denim jacket and slipping one of the vests on. She was about to put on a LOT of weight.

It took a good fifteen minutes to cram the disks onto her person, but she still had space left over. Lovely things these cargo jackets… Closing the drawer, she swept her eye over the shelves again. She already had so much… could she possibly take on any more? Was it worth it to look?

One word leapt out at her and she curiously pulled the drawer open. Gundam. Feeling as though she held the key to some huge secret, she riffled through the disks. Oddly enough, the Madam had never spent very much time going over the gundams. They had been taught how their suits worked, what symbols they were, that the gundams had played major roles in the war. That was all. For some reason, none of them had ever questioned it. No, that wasn’t true. Some of them had clamored to know more and their questions had never been answered. Kyla couldn’t even remember if they’d ever been told who the pilots were. It suddenly seemed like a huge gap in her education, and she shoved the disks into the vest pocket, closing the drawer and putting her jacket back on, buttoning it closed. Now she was ready. Now she had to get out.

A quick glance at her watch told her that Duo would be almost finished setting up the explosives he had magically produced. He was going to have to explain that, too. She made her way to their meeting point as swiftly and carefully as she could, glad for mufflers between the disks.

“Hey, you!” a security stepped out.

“Not today, buddy,” in the same movement, she drew her gun and hurled a smoke bomb out him. It opened immediately, blinding the man, and knocking him out. She ran away from the incriminating scene, nearly running into more guards. She shot att them and opened another gas bomb, then ran full tilt for the rendezvous. Alarms started to go off- their cover was blown.

Sight of a familiar chestnut braid leaning around a corner to aim a gun, brought a relieved smile to her face. “Duo!”

“Babe!” he replied, not looking up from his targets until he was finished, then he grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. “They found you, too?”

“Can we get out in time?” she nodded.

“Have you got the disks?”

“Plenty.”

“Then we can get out. This way,” he pulled her down a side corridor, and again she was being lead by a master of infiltration. Duck in here, take a side route there, through endless corridors and they were on the roof of the building. “Only way. Get that stinger of yours out here,” he turned to fire on men following them and slammed the door closed on them. “Hurry!”

“Right,” she fished out a pocket remote and pressed the most prominent button. Ten seconds later, Thistle Wing’s engines cut the air and landed before them. “Come on!” she called, swinging herself up.

“You go, I can handle this,” he ordered, holding the door closed. The sound of helicopters whirring towards them added urgency. “Go! Whatever happens, you’re more important. Don’t worry about me.”

“Duo!” she cried in disbelief. How could he do this to her? She couldn’t just leave him here!

“GO!”

The choppers were getting closer. With a wordless cry of frustration, she swung inside the cockpit and closed it, firing up the manual systems. “Idiot. Thinks he can be all noble-“ she muttered, strapping in. There was only one option- protect her peanut-brained dingbat boyfriend from the suit. “Let’s do this.”

The Thistle shot upwards easily. Green, serrated wings, almost like leaves, rose from it’s back to keep her up and purple accent lights shone eerily. One great hand reached around to the back to lift away a giant claymore, it’s blade an eerie purple beam. (AN: *sweatdrop* I’ve been reading too much of Kate Forsyth’s ‘Witches of Eileanan’ Series. Actual books. According to her, a claymore is- “a heavy, two-edged sword, often as tall as a man.” Or in this case, a gundam. O.o That is SOME weapon…) With barely any effort, it raised to knock it’s flat side into the two helicopters, flinging them away. She immediately plunged downward to check on Duo, just as the door was forced open.

The guards came out triumphantly, bearing down on Duo, and came face to face with- a mobile suit nearly 17 meters tall. (AN: ^^; Anybody know how to convert meters to feet?) The horrified shock on their faces was almost comical and Duo took advantage of it to scramble up one of the Thistle’s legs and into the cockpit.

“Miss me?” he panted, still managing a cheeky grin.

“You’re just damn lucky,” Kyla muttered and raised the claymore in warning. The guards scattered, practically climbing over each other to get back inside and far, FAR away.

“I knew you’d come through,” he said smugly, strapping himself into a seat further back in the cockpit. “Hey this thing’s really done up!”

Kyla didn’t respond, her fingers flying over the keyboard of an onboard computer, and she swore. “They’re mobilizing. We just HAD to be flashy about it, didn’t we?” she sighed.

“Can I use that thing?” Duo pulled a disk out of his jacket pocket. “I found this lying around.”

“Sure, go ahead. But don’t blame me if it gets rocky around here,” she unstrapped it and handed it to him, then took the controls again, already able to see Mobile Dolls approach. “Hiiiiiiiiaaaaaay!” she leapt into the air and came down amidst the dolls, slashing at them with the claymore and bringing down the first row.

Duo rocked against his seat and raised an eyebrow, but dared not comment. He no doubt that she was indeed descended from brave Scottish clansmen as she ripped apart the suits, making ‘Braveheart’ look tame. He popped the disk into the machine and opened it up, sifting through passcodes and files, growing accustomed to the rocking of the suit.

The Thistle jumped into the air and kicked off against the wall of the building, flying through the lines of suits, the great claymore taking out rows and rows at a time.

“Yie!” Duo’s eyes widened and he stared at her, straining against the seatbelts. “Oi, watch it, will ya?!”

She glanced back to grin at him. “Aw, don’t tell me you can’t stand a little boat rocking, Thanatos.”

Suits fell rapidly, the Thistle barely taking a hit, and never once scratching or denting; dolls just didn’t have the power to break through that lacquer. The field cleared a little, the remaining suits attempting to gang up on her.

A comm. link appeared on Kyla’s screen, a man’s image in it. “Greetings, Ms Addison,” he said condescendingly.

Kyla gasped in recognition and Duo peered around to see. Memories came at her in a rush and she found her tongue slipping back into old ways, the twang in his tone starting the onslaught. “Harold ye blaygird scumbug, what in hells do ye think ye’re doin’?!” she snapped.

He smiled wickedly. “I’m no longer Harold, Ky. My name’s Jack Darwin now. And YOU are intrudin’.”

“Ye stupid fuck, what are ye blatherin’ on abou’?!” she demanded angrily. The dolls seemed suspended in place, hanging back and waiting for orders. Duo glanced from Kyla to the man on the screen who had the beginnings of a similar face structure. His overwhelmed mind fought to understand their heavy accents before he remembered; Kyla had said that she was born in Scotland. So this must be someone she knew.

The man scowled. “Ye canna speak to me that way, cousin!”

“I’ll speak to you any way I damn well please! Now stop fucking around and tell me what it is ye’re up to!” Duo facefaulted. COUSIN?

“Ye always were impudent,” Jack snarled. “We thought ye were dead.”

“Too bad for you I’m no’! Wha’ games are ye playing here, Harold?”

“My name isna Harold!” he fumed. “Tis Jack Darwin now and dinna ye forget it!” a mad gleam lit his eye and several dolls came sailing towards them.

She spared the dolls no more than the necessary effort or attention and immediately faced him again. “I’m no’ in the mood for your games,” she quiet tone was dangerous.

“You don’ have the luxury of decidin’, cousin,” he was nearly able to match her glare for glare, save the maniacal glint in his brown eyes. He turned away from the screen, barking orders at men behind him, and when he turned back, he was laughing. “Good bye at last, Addison,” he cackled.

Kyla’s eyes widened at the screen. “SHITE!!!!!!!”

Blinking, heat seeking missiles streaked straight for the Thistle, aiming directly for it’s middle. Furiously, Kyla and the Thistle shot upward and back the way they had come, the pilot swearing viciously when the missiles turned all-too quickly to follow. She beat at the controls frantically, tried to evade them, make them miss, but then with a sickening drop of her stomach realized that they were within a colony. Those missiles slamming through the outer wall, possibly even the explosion they made anywhere else, would kill everyone within. All it would take was the tiniest tear, the most minute pinprick of a hole. Angry with herself and her son of a bitch cousin, she headed straight for the exit, punching in an override code to make the massive doors between her and open space obey her need.

“Ky, let me off,” Duo unbuckled his seatbelt.

“What?! Why!?”

“I’m not good in here. I think I know where he’s hiding. Open the door, I’ll be ok,” he readied himself to jump out through the cockpit’s door.

“What?! You’ll be killed!” she spared him a horrified look. “Duo-“ she bit her lip and nodded. She knew he was right. “Be careful.”

“I will,” he kissed her cheek and wiped away the beginning of a tear from her soft lashes. The cockpit door swung open and he dropped down and away, lost to her. Feeling ill, she switched on the video screen, watching, heart in her throat, as he landed expertly in the softening treetops of a park. With a choked sigh of relief- whatever happened now, she had no control of it- she turned all her attention back to the opening doors.

Space swallowed her and her immediate mission was to lead the missiles away from the colony. Very, VERY far away. They made three comet-like pinpricks of moving light in the vast black vacuum. Within the colony, people pointed to video screens in awe and fear. What was going on? Why was there a mobile suit battle here?

Duo half free fell, half climbed his way down the trees, taking on many a scratch and dropping neatly to his feet onto the grass. He took a moment to orient himself and then started running. He knew exactly where he was going. Cousin or no, this guy was going down.

He raced along the streets of the colony and directly to the building the laptop had pinpointed as the source of the signal. Without hesitation, he dodged the distracted guards and ran in. No one moved to stop him- all were glued to the video screens, watching news coverage of something no one had ever thought to see again. He wasted no time watching, steeling his heart to believe in her, and continued through the building to the top story and the roof. The door flew open at his entrance and a figure turned to face him.

“Jack Darwin,” Duo growled.

The man’s eyes narrowed, a slight resemblance to Kyla flickering over his face in his determination, but it was lost immediately as his look turned wicked. “And who might you be?”

“Och, I’m jus’ a wee man o’ the faeries,” Duo mocked his accent and drew his gun fluidly. “Back away from that control panel if you know what’s good for you.”

Jack sniffed disdainfully. “American. Only YOU could be so crass. What’s your business here, George Washington?”

Duo fought down his reactions to Jack’s words, knowing it would just make him lose his temper. “My ‘business’ is to stop you. I won’t say it again- back away from the control panel.”

A slow smile spread across jack’s face. “What, you mean- this control panel?” he waved a hand at the array of technology set up before him. “Gladly-“ his finger jammed down on a button and as Duo’s bullet streaked for his skull, he leapt out of the way, laughing madly.

“You sick bastard-“ Duo swore.

“Duo!?” Kyla’s voice echoed over the comm..

“Ky!”

“Aye, my cousin’s no’ such a bad fighter afterall,” Jack nodded. Too late, Duo realized Jack’s eyes weren’t on him, and someone he couldn’t see was pulling both his arms back, immobilizing him. He fought back, but within a moment his gun was out of his hand and he was completely captive. Jack laughed as the string of curses from the American. “You on the other hand, are obviously no’.” That stung. “But even she is not invincible,” Jack continued, and strolled casually back to the control panel.

“Duo!? Harold, what’ve you done to him!?” Kyla tried to fight and talk at the same time, earning herself several close calls in the process.

“Why, nothing, cousin, dearest. Only taken him out of action,” he reveled in the horrified look on his cousin’s face. The man holding Duo clamped a hand over his struggling captive’s mouth to keep him quiet. “You shouldn’t’ve come here, Ky. My influence stretches across the entire Earth and all its’ colonies. I know you’re helping against Markiah, I heard all about Sydney. He’s the biggest and greatest account I’ve ever handled and soon, no one will be able to stop us from punishing the world for their wrongs against us! They WILL suffer!”

“I won’t let you ruin this world they’ve worked so hard for!” Kyla’s eyes narrowed. The beat of the righteous heart. The promise of the thistle. Wait- something wasn’t right. She quickly surveyed the lit equipment before her. What was-?

“Enjoy Dame Addison, I’ve left you a wee gift,” he said, keying in a four digit passcode.

“You bastard- what’ve you done?” Duo yelled, foreboding filling him and turning his stomach to jello, all his hatred pouring out of his eyes.

Kyla’s eyes widened in fear and a sickly yellow glow seemed to fill the cockpit. It was like- like the Thistle was in her head with her, fighting with her. Telling her what to do, how to fight, where to strike at the throat of her enemy. Her scream echoed through space and the colony.

“You bastard!” Duo broke free of his captor, and ran forward, swinging his fist in a wide arc, ready to slam it into Jack’s jaw. A force field like those that had been created for the Mercurious stopped him, sending a jolt of electricity up his spine and crackling with static. He collapsed to his knees as the flares died down. “What’ve you done to her?” he whispered, not defeated yet.

“You may step back- he won’t be any more trouble,” Jack nodded to the guard, who left, and smirked down at Duo. “You’ve heard of it, I’m sure. It’s called a Zero System.”

Duo’s eyes widened.

In space, Kyla battled, slicing through suits without thinking about it- no, she wasn’t thinking about it. Her thoughts were searching frantically for a way out. An irrational wave of claustrophobia swept through her and she could feel herself tensing up in fear, like a child. And suddenly, she was a child again.

“Mam!” she could feel someone’s legs inside her arms. Her mother. She was warm… she smelt like flour and ginger…

“MAMA!” someone pulling her away- away from the still, discolored forms of her parents- “MAMA!!!”

“Kyla,” warm arms wrapped around her and she cried into the folds of someone’s dress. She turned her wet face up to look at the person there. Her grandmother smiled down at her, every detail of her wizened old face etched deep into her memory. “I know little one… it’ll be alright…”

The unforgiving, crackling light of flames swept away her grandmother’s image. She ran up the stony dirt path, tripping, falling, scraping her knee, scrambling to her feet and pressing onward. “GRANMAMA!” There was smoke- too much smoke- much too much smoke- Her heart pounded with fear, she understood now. She knew what was happening- didn’t want to believe it, but did she have a choice?

“GRANMAMA!” she crested the rise and stopped at the small white gate, her workdress blowing in the winds and updrafts generated by the flames. Even at this distance, they seemed to burn into her skin with their heat. “GRANMAMA!” she screamed, ready to run in and find her.

“Don’t be a fool!” someone held her back.

“No! Granmama! I have to go to her! GRANMAMA!” she cried, struggling against their grasp, knowing she couldn’t break free. She sank to her knees, watching the flames lick up around the cottage. It was too late. She was too late. One final sob escaped her lips before she lost all her senses to the tears. “Granmama…”

“Eh?” he looked up and his face broke into a grin when he saw her. “Hey, Ky, what’s up?”

“Muchacha-!” Isabel screamed as Andria and Estelle shoved her over the edge of the pool and she fell in with a splash, making them all laugh, Raisa and Kyla watching from their seats by the pool. She resurfaced to spit water in their faces, joining them in a grin. Then she yanked them both in with her. “Do NOT think you can win-“ gurgle.

“Kyla!” he smiled warmly at her, something twinkling, dancing in his eyes. “Wanna go somewhere?”

“You’re going to get the dress right?”

His warm arm around her waist…

“Don’t be silly- I’ll pay for it then.”

Reaching for her ice cream on a busy street in Sydney, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle…

“With my own money too. You look beautiful. You should have the dress.”

Stepping lightly, twirling in his arms, to the rhythm of a heart-throbbing harmony… The cool, hardwood floor beneath her stockinged feet the exact opposite of the heat in her face or passing between their hands.

“It’s my treat.”

His worried eyes and lingering hand on her arm before she slipped out into the bar to execute her mission.

“It’s my gift then.”

In the cockpit, Kyla shook her head, trying to focus on the reality around her again. She was sweating but she couldn’t lift her hands off the controls to wipe it away. “What…?” She was breathing hard, the suit had finally stopped moving. Had she stopped it? Or were there simply no enemies left? She swallowed hard, a new fear gripping her stomach. Had she destroyed them all in one fit of fury? “What is this thing?”

Jack laughed down at Duo, thinking he had beaten him into submission. “It’s really a very advanced system. It plugs directly into the pilot’s brain, making them the perfect soldier. The best killing machines ever made. The only draw back, is that it has a tendency to… drive the pilot insane,” his face broke into a cruel grin.

Slowly, shakily, Duo pulled himself up so that he could glare at him. “You don’t know the first thing about the Zer- oh!” someone kicked him in the back, hard. Bastards. Dishonorable bastards. Kicking a man when he was down…

“It’s also,” he knelt down to look Duo in the face, to gloat and be able to watch the pain tearing him apart. “been known to show a pilot his future.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he croaked. The pain in his back was fading, going numb. His ribs would probably ache for the next week though. If he made it to the next week. The back of his mind was whirling, calculating, trying to find a way out. Perhaps the best way was to pretend that he was just the back country hick tagalong sidekick, infatuated with the gundame pilot and shoving his nose in to help even though he couldn’t. Dimly he hoped he wasn’t living the role.

“Because,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Dame Addison, is psychic.”

Duo’s eyes widened, reacting before he could stop himself. Real fear for her gripped him now, along with a flood of memories. He had piloted Wing Zero- he knew the torture of the system- but- if she- if she had a tendency towards these things- god- her senses- her poor senses- they’d overload! It really might drive her insane!

“Didn’t know that, did you?” he chuckled maliciously, falling for the trap Duo’s wide blue eyes always set.

Ky, Ky, babe, I’m going to get you out… I have to… If I can just get to the comm…. If she can just hear my voice… Thank god this guy was such a fool. “She’s stronger than that, you know!” he spat, slipping into his role again. Just a little longer… let him relax enough for Duo to land one good punch to his jaw and make that stupid forcefield move out of his way…

“You don’t really understand, do you?” he cocked his head to the side. “The Zero system has only ever been truly mastered by one man. A gundam pilot, years ago. But maybe he didn’t master it- you see, he disappeared after the war. Most likely the aftermath of what he saw has driven him mad. Pity really. He could have been an excellent addition to our side.”

“What side is that? Satan’s?” earned Duo another kick in the ribs. He groaned appropriately, but his eyes never left Jack. Yes, there! He had done it- Duo Maxwell, you are one hell of an actor.

“It shouldn’t be long now before it begins to show her her future,” he said, standing, stupidly turning his back on Duo, thinking him impotent now. He grinned, nothing nice in it. “It will show her dying by my hand, you, her lover, dead or in pain nearby- I haven’t decided which yet.”

“Let me make the decision for you,” the sound of cracking knuckles and Duo’s voice strong and without pain made Jack turn and his eyes widened moments before Shinigami’s fist connected with his face. Duo made sure he had fallen and then wasted no time reaching the comm. Thistle registration number… “KYLA!!!”

“Thistle, why are you doing this to me?” she had lost all control. This machine was taking over her mind. Dimly a word made it through the fog… ‘ZERO’. Of course…

It was hot day and none of the girls wanted to pay attention. They slouched in their seats or passed notes, some daring to giggle in the back. The class spanned three age brackets, the youngest about twelve.

She was fifteen years old again, shooting furtive looks to her companions and trying not to draw any attention to themselves. Andria looked the other way as she expertly flicked a folded up note onto Kyla’s desk, drawing a giggle from Raisa at her over dramatics.

“Girls?”

Kyla’s arms immediately folded to cover the note. Every girl in the room instantly faced front, looking innocent and engrossed in the Madam’s lecture.

She was not amused. Arms crossed over her chest, her glared around the room, scouting out the guilty parties. “Do I need to remind you again why it is important that you be here?” Now they all looked guilty, reminded of their missions. “I thought not. May I continue?” No one dared protest. “The Zero System. Who was it made by? Dame Brownlow?”

“We don’t know,” Estelle swallowed hard. She had been drawing on her notes again.

“Correct. What DO we know about it, Dame Jacobs?” the Madam turned to a younger girl, also not paying full attention.

“Th-that it’s powers are incredible,” the girl began, looking nervous but pushing ahead anyway. “That it can drive a pilot insane. That it’s only been programmed into two mobile suits so far and that this is the first war it’s ever been used in.”

“Very good.”

The Madam’s voice faded from her mind. Her breath came in short, hard rasps, her exhausted form straining against the seatbelts. A shaking hand reached up to support her aching, buzzing head, her eyes wide and unseeing. Her thoughts raced at a thousand miles a minute, confusion and chaos reined. She could feel her heart throbbing in her chest, fighting to keep a steady beat. The only sounds were those of the system and her breathing, a disturbing quiet as she fought for control.

Slowly, she realized that that crackling wasn’t just static… it was someone’s voice, fearful, urgent, as familiar as the Madam’s had been, and right now, infinitely more welcome. Numbly, her hand reached out to flick the comm. back on. “Duo…”

Inside the colony, Duo stopped screaming into the comm. He swallowed hard, tilting his head back to send up silent thanks and when he blinked again, there were hot, wet lines crossing his cheeks. “Kyla.”

“Duo… how do I get out of here?”

“Kyla, listen very carefully. Jack Darwin found a way to plant a different cockpit system in the Thistle. It’s called ZERO. It plays off your weaknesses to make you stronger, but you have to have a strong mind set to fight under it, otherwise it takes control.”

Kyla listened carefully, taking stock of herself and moving her stiff limbs. She glanced at the screen and wimpered. “There are more coming…”

“Bring it in, Ky. I’m not risking you on that with a sixth sense,” he ordered, finally able to pull up the visual on the unfamiliar machine. She looked scared and shaken, but not beaten.

“Sixth sense?” she blinked at him, wide-eyed.

“He said that you have one. It makes sense, Ky, think about it. I’d rather not risk it. Bring the Thistle in. I’ll pilot it,” Duo was already pressing buttons on the panel- there, he had a view of the battle field now. He swore. Their reinforcements were practically on top of her now.

“Duo, I can’t- they’re right here- I’ll just have to risk it,” she sounded brave as she pulled on a helmet, but he could see she was afraid. “Besides,” blue eyes turned to the comm. tenderly, and a pale hand reached up to touch the screen. “I don’t want you to get hurt, either. Over.” She closed the window.

Dup put his hand up to meet hers, too late. “Ky- Kyla! No! Damn it!” He slammed his fist into the paneling and sparks flew up. In classic Duo fashion, his eyes widened. “Whoops…” it started to smoke and electricity crackled along its glass surface. “Woah- hey!” he backed off, staring at it.

“You idiot- what’ve you done to it?! The whole system’s blown now! My dolls! My network!” Jack pushed Dup aside to lurch to his feet and see that it was too late for his precious machinery.

Duo gave him a skeptical look and slugged him again. He didn’t get up again. Warning lights were flashing like crazy from the panels and the guards had fled the room. “Woops- looks like it’s time for me to boogie-“ One instinct, he found his way back down through the building, again, with no one to stop him. When he hit the street, he wasted no time and hailed a cab to the vast doors leading onto outer space. If he had to hijack a suit, he would.

His resolve not to glance at the coverage of battle being broadcast throughout the entire colony fell apart when he looked up to see the Thistle streaking straight back for the colony. Several people screamed, and for a moment he couldn’t move. Then he was off like a shot for the doors to help her back in.

“Damnit- gerroff!” Kyla muttered through grit teeth as she confused the last doll and ran it through with her claymore. Before more suits could be sent, she was streaking back to the colony, punching in the override and ready to ride it out. She was sweating the effort and much fewer lights blinked back at her from her dashboard. She had had to disable most of it to keep the ZERO under control. Manual battling… NOT something to make a habit of.

The doors were open just enough- and she was through, bringing the suit to a decent stop and ignoring the frantic technicians running around. The cockpit door opened on a huge cloud of dust that made her choke and obscured her from their view. She fell back in her seat, eyes stinging and hacking her lungs out, it seemed.

Strong arms lifted her out and in a dizzying moment had set her on her feet on solid ground. “Ky- Kyla, are you alright? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Duo?” she rubbed at her eyes and her weary face broke into a smile as she wrapped her arms around him.

He hugged her back just as tightly. “Come on- we can’t stay here- where’s that remote control thingy you’ve got?”

“Here,” she pressed it into his hand. “Be careful with that-“

“Let’s try- this one-“ Duo jammed a finger on the button and the cockpit door slammed closed, the huge suit rocketing upwards, only his lightning reflexes keeping it from slamming into the ceiling. They both stared upwards at it through the haze, as terrified technicians and engineers panicked, clueless.

“C-A-R-E-F-U-L,” Kyla reiterated weakly.

“Eh heh…” Duo muttered sheepishly and got control of the suit. “Let’s rock and roll, baby!”

__________________________________

Kyla moved around the tiny kitchen of the minuscule apartment she and Duo had been forced to move to when their hotel room had become conspicuous. Mm, had it only been three days ago since that big battle? She forced back memories of the ZERO system and placed a pile of cutlery in the sink, humming a little. A noise came from the room behind her and she called over her shoulder.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Duo! I just need to finish. You don’t want burned food, do you?” she lifted the lid of a pot on the stove to monitor its contents and adjusted the heat. “You know, you never did tell me how you managed to hide the Thistle in that hangar so quickly- or without anyone seeing you.” Another grunt from the back room. “You also didn’t tell me how you got through those air vents so easily. You DO know that you ARE going to have to explain it all to me eventually, right?” she filled a bowl with the soup from the pot and placed it on a ready and waiting tray, ignoring the grumblings that emanated from Duo’s vicinity. “What was that?”

Silence.

“I didn’t think so.” She carried the tray into the bedroom and set it on a side table, grinning at her Shinigami. “It’s chicken soup.”

“Kyyyyyyyyy~laaaaaaaaaa!”

Her laptop began to blink and she gave him one last teasing glance before opening it. A window opened immediately, presenting with an option. Her eyes widened and she shrieked, pressing ‘Enter’. “Oh my god!”

“What!? What?!” Duo called frantically from behind her.

“Raisa!” was the happy reply as Kyla pulled up the video link. “Rai-!” she paused. “Trowa?”

A small smile graced the bang-ed wonder’s lips. “Hello, Kyla. I’ll get her. Raisa!” he called into the background.

Duo’s eyes widened. “Trowa!? On video!? Gah! No!” he dove under the already rumpled covers of the bed.

Kyla ignored him. “You’re being an idiot, Duo.” Her eyes lit as Raisa came to sit in front of the camera, just as excitedly. “Rai!”

“Ky! Oh gods, I was getting so worried about you! You never replied to anything and neither have the others-“ Raisa started to babble.

“What? Rai, what do you mean they haven’t responded?”

“I haven’t had contact with anyone since you all left!”

“What!?” Kyla stared at the monitor. Behind her, Duo peeked out from beneath the sheets. “You’ve heard nothing?”

“Not a word,” Raisa shook her head sadly. A pair of gentle hands came to massage her shoulders and she glanced up and behind her gratefully. “I don’t suppose you have?”

Kyla shook her head, disturbed. “No. I’m sorry I didn’t reply, Rai, I didn’t know you’d be worried… this can’t be good. I’ll try them later, if that’ll help.”

“Thank you,” Raisa smiled gratefully.

“So how’ve you been?” Kyla asked carefully, trying to hide any amusement as she watched Trowa’s hands on Raisa’s shoulders.

“We’re good,” Raisa said lightly, then broke into a smile.

“I thought so!” Kyla grinned.

“And how’s your dingbat?”

“I’m not a dingbat!” Duo shot beneath the covers again.

“Actually, how IS Duo?” Trowa bent down to look at the monitor better.

Kyla’s grin turned feral. “How is the dingbat? How IS the dingbat? Dingbat, why don’t we show them how you are?”

“Noooo! Kyla! Come on, you can’t! They’ll never let me live it down!”

“Oh, but Dingbat they’ll be so concerned!” Kyla winked at the confused Raisa and Trowa and angled the camera towards the bed, where Duo was trying to burrow through the mattress. “Come on, Duo,” she pulled the sheets off him.

Trowa and Raisa stared. Then almost simultaneously, both began to giggle, and grin, and then to laugh outright, leaning on one another for support.

Duo glared back at them, crossing his arms over his chest, and then immediately scratching the spots on his arms. “You people act like you’ve never seen someone with chicken pox before…” he muttered.

“Check out my Connect The Dots Thanatos!” Kyla hugged him and then swatted at his hand. “Don’t scratch,” she ordered.

“H-How did you get chicken pox?” Trowa managed through his laughter.

“We walked past a day care on the way home the other day,” Duo glared at him.

“Within twenty-four hours, he had spots,” Kyla affirmed.

“I hope you have plenty of calamine lotion,” Raisa giggled.

“Rai, can’t you see they’ve already used half a bottle!” they both succumbed to more laughter.

“I’m going to get you for this,” Duo scowled at Kyla.

“Well you sure can’t give it to me,” she pointed out. “Waves of it ran through the Keep and I’ve already had it. Actually-“ she turned back to the computer, serious now. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before they let us go back to Earth.”

They both sobered, and Raisa pulled the laptop closer. “Nothing urgent is happening here as yet, but I am getting worried about the others. Whenever you can, come home and let me know. We’ll meet you in Sank.”

“Right,” Kyla nodded.

“We need to try the others though, so I suppose we have to go,” Raisa smiled sadly.

“What’re you doing letting him man your laptop, anyway?” Kyla raised a slightly teasing eyebrow at Trowa.

“No one ever answered my calls anyway!” Raisa defended him. “He’s good at this kind of thing,” she deflected any argument. “Tell the Dingbat we hope he feels better and stay in touch, alright?”

“Hey, I’m right here, you know!”

“Will do,” Kyla smiled sadly and reached over the laptop. “Our regards to Trowa as well. See ya, Rai.” The connection was closed.

Kyla sighed and sat back against the pillows on the bed, lost in her thoughts. “Life’s funny, isn’t it?”

Duo continued to scowl and tried to scratch again, “You aren’t the one with chicken pox at nineteen… this is a kid’s disease!”

“I can’t believe you haven’t had it or a vaccination by now,” Kyla raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t scratch,” she batted his hand away.

“But it itches!” he wailed miserably.

“I know, heart-of-mine,” she sat up and kissed the top of his braided head. “But scratching just makes it worse, I promise. Come on, lie back and have your lunch, huh?”

He grumbled but complied, enjoying the attention he received as she fluffed his pillows and straightened the sheets. “You know what would REALLY make me feel better?” he said, a light dancing mischievously in his eyes.

She shot him a skeptical look. “What?”

“Having a pretty girl sit here and feed me and then help me bath and put lotion on me and-“

“Duo!” she crossed her arms and tried to look angry but failed at his too-cute look. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”

“Love me and take care of me and- yeah, and love me,” he decided.

She raised an eyebrow at him, her posture shifting subtly. “Love you, hm?”

“You heard it straight,” he said seriously.

“Well…” she sat next to him on the bed, very close and leaned in until their faces nearly touched. “I don’t have any problem with that…” his eyes lit. “But- I don’t think you’re really up to it at the moment,” she pulled away and went to get the cooling tray of food.

Duo stared at her, slack jawed. She had- had just- just said- just said she would- and- DAMMIT! “Woah, woah, woah, back up there-“

She set the tray across his lap and smiled pleasantly down at his shocked face. “Motivated to get better yet?” she kissed the dumbfounded Duo on his forehead again and left. “You better eat all that!”

He stared after her, in shock. He allowed himself the time to let their conversation filter through his fever clogged mind and register on every level. A hugr grin slowly came to his face and he let out a whoop. Kyla loved him!