July 15, 2000
Whoa...I have no idea where this came from...
I guess it's kind of a sequel to Burning Out, not as vicious, I think...
::sighs:: That's what happens when I tell people that a fic is a one- shot...it grows into a trilogy. o.0;
Feedback welcome, but not necessary. ^_~
The last in the Relena/Dorothy Torture Timeline:
Shy
Burning Out
Overlap
Song by Ani DiFranco
I do not own these puppets.
AKL
[I search your profile for a translation]
The café was smoky, full of jazz and soulful notes. The last place Dorothy wanted to be, but the only one that gave the assured anonymity. Behind a screen of cigarette smoke and the smooth melody of a saxophone, she could see her, her soft profile so much like her mother's. That much had been even more evident the day she had been named the Queen of the World and attempted to create the World Nation.
Beautiful, Dorothy thought, licking her rouged lips. She looked so sorrowful, so depressed. A black beret hid her long blonde hair, even as trendy rhinestoned sunglasses hid the brilliant glare of her blue eyes.
Almost six months now, Relena had been fucking her in her own bed, invading her home and becoming a part of her life in a very real way. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck and winced as her fingers ran over some undiscovered bruise. The man on the small stage played on, rocking back and forth, his suit clinging to the line of his spine.
Dorothy didn't know what she wanted, but it seemed everything in her life had come to a rapid stand-still. She had a lover that would never acknowledge her; not that she needed acknowledgement. She had a dead uncle and had been set loose amidst the shark infested waters of Romafeller. No permanence, and no stability, the two most defining characteristics of war.
[I study the conversation like a map
Cause I know there is strength
in the differences between us]
Relena walked over cautiously, back slumped, one tendril of white silk peeking out from beneath her hat, a barely touched martini in one hand. "Dorothy," she greeted quietly, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. Two spots of pink color burned in her cheeks as she downed her drink quickly, taking a seat at the same small table.
She looked at her glass of red wine. "You going to drink that?" she asked at last, and to their surprise, they both began to chuckle at the same time.
"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Relena quipped, sneaking a sip of her wine.
Dorothy came right back at her, fingering the twin buns a la Lady Une that bound her hair. "You know what would look good on you? Me."
[And I know there is comfort
where we overlap]
"You've been staying away," Dorothy said, all pretense of cheer gone. There were reasons behind most things that she did, but for the life of her she couldn't rationalize this, couldn't fit it into her little box of war tactics and logic. "Is something wrong?"
Relena smiled guilelessly, instantly putting the other girl on her guard.
"Nothing at all, Dorothy," she said softly, rubbing her nose absently with one finger, a nervous habit that betrayed her cool façade. "Just..." She leaned forward, eagerly awaiting the reason Relena had been neglecting her fucktoy.
"Nothing."
[Come here
stand in front of the light]
"You're lying." Relena had the decency not to deny it, but she did not elaborate. She made a face as Dorothy pulled out a black cigarette holder that seemed to belong in some antiquated century.
Dorothy snorted and lit a cigarette. "I dislike this side of you, Miss Relena. This recalcitrant, yet overly concerned little girl has no place inside the mind of a world leader."
[Stand still
so I can see your silhouette
I hope
that you have got all night
cause I'm not done looking yet]
"Are you done examining me, doctor?" Her voice held strained notes of annoyance; whatever was bothering her must have been severe to provoke a loss of control. "I told you, nothing's wrong. Well," she amended, "nothing besides the fact that I am a mere pawn of Romafeller. I have no real power and everyone, including myself, knows it."
"Miss--"
"Shut up," she snapped, slamming her glass onto the table. "You think that I don't know what people are saying? That *you*, of all people, plotted against me with Dermail?" Dorothy swallowed hard, unnerved by the sudden change in the girl's demeanor. "I know."
[Each one of us
wants a piece of the action]
"I won't bore you with excuses." She shrugged. "War makes men *and* women desperate. Where to go from here, Relena? Is it truly over, then?" Some part of her rejoiced at the thought of the blonde woman never knocking on her door, while another part, the same part that had wept when they watched the explosion of Dermail's spacecraft on the vid-screen, began to beat down the walls in a pale attempt to rally against fate.
[you can hear it in what we say
You can see it in what we do]
Relena leaned closer, exposing the clean lines of her neck. "It isn't over until I say it's over."
She fully expected things to go back to the way they had been, the calm and the endless serenity. Instead, Relena began to flower within the darkness, coming alive fully for the first time in a long time. And Relena still didn't need her.
[We negotiate with chaos
for some sense of satisfaction]
"Peace is coming, ladies and gentlemen. Every day, every dozen people, every diplomat, every inch of space. All are necessary in the peace negotiations. How are we to keep peace if we cannot even agree that peace is the best course of action?"
She paused, looking down at her speech, long hair upswept like her mother's, looking every bit the Queen. "Passiveness has destroyed our world. When men decide to work towards peace, peace is achieved. It has happened many times throughout history. Yet no council sat down and decided to work towards war. Passivity has brought us to the place we stand today, desperately trying to bring the universe back from the brink.
"Pacifism is not the same as passiveness. Pacifism is a universal goal of peace, one that I am sure everyone wishes for. In anything, there can only be one winner, with one exception. In war, there are no winners, only the suffering, and the survivors. What of the soldiers you send out, day after day, forcing them to fight for a cause that can never be first when that is your goal? If you think only of power, you have lost sight of why humanity exists.
"We have a res--"
[If you won't give it to me
at least give me a better view]
Dorothy watched impassively as the bullet lodged in her clavicle, too high for her heart. Instantly, several body guards made a circle around the speaker, even as other guards searched out the assassin and killed him.
She looked him straight in the eye. Poor blowhard. Only following orders.
[Come here
stand in front of the light
Stand still
so I can see your silhouette]
District 0879. Affectionately labeled the "Relena Whorehouse District". Dorothy shook her head in amazement as she passed by several Relena look-a-likes, a few wearing fake plastic tiaras, others wearing maroon school outfits. All whores, turning tricks, making money off people like her.
That Japanese pilot had no idea what he was missing.
What was she trying to prove? she wondered as a scantily clad girl whose eyes were too far apart to be Relena sauntered by, swinging a long necklace of diamonds.
One particular girl caught her eye, smirking as she saw interest light in her cool blue eyes, and beckoning with one long finger. Fingers like Relena's. Her rectilinear profile was the same, too. That aquiline nose... Good enough, she supposed, and followed her into the brothel.
[I hope
that you have got all night
cause I'm not done looking yet]
They closed down District 0879 later that week, saying it was infested with plague-carrying rats.
Dorothy could still taste the flesh of the waifish girl, long blonde hair falling over her face coyly, hiding the knife wound scar just below her left eye. She saw the look Relena gave her in the hall as they passed each other and hated her for it. For knowing.
There was no reason to need Relena, to need to touch her body and kiss her face. She was just one of thousands of pretty girls. It wasn't that she needed her physically.
She *needed* Relena to need her.
[I build each one of my songs out of glass
so you could see me inside them, I suppose]
She cracked the second week. She had to speak to Relena, had to reaffirm exactly who was in charge.
"Rele--" she stopped short, eyes wide as she peered into the demoted Queen's bedroom, gasping as her likeness, reflected in glass statues, oil paintings, pencil sketches, stared back at her. Relena sat in the middle, a knife in one hand.
"You wanted to talk?"
"I did." She couldn't stop staring at the various faces looking at her. There she was, laughing. And crying. And smiling. So many of her faces, her masks, all put on display for her.
"I wanted to draw you. But your face can't be captured in a two-dimensional portrait." She made two neat slices with the knife through one of the paintings closest to the bed. "So I tried to sculpt you." Relena gestured to the mound of clay on the nightstand, dripping onto the Oriental carpet. "I didn't have enough for your hair. And your hair is the most lovely part about you."
[Or you could just leave the image of me
in the background, I guess
and watch your own reflection superimposed]
"And then I tried just making your head. But I had no idea where to start. So I made one of your faces. You smiled when Sanc burned. I hated you for your cruelty and loved you for your daring. But I realized that wasn't really your face. It was someone else's."
"I don't know you at all. All these faces belong to someone else."
[And I build each one of my days out of hope
and I give that hope your name]
"You know, for a while, you were the only thing I had."
Dorothy looked up sharply from the floor, hands twisting her skirt into terrible shapes.
Relena laughed, moving forward to capture Dorothy's lips beneath hers. "The only thing that kept me sane. And then, one day I woke up and I didn't need you anymore. I don't need you to keep the darkness at bay. I don't need you to torment me; I can do that just fine myself."
The platinum blonde girl felt every secret hope in her, or so she fancied, ice heart shatter as the Queen spoke, her authority shining through even the lightest reprimands.
[And I don't know you that well
but it don't take much to tell]
"I don't need you, but I still want you. That much, at least, remains the same." She kissed Dorothy again, her tongue sliding past her lips, arms wrapping surely around her slender waist. "I want you and I don't even know you. You have that kind of attractiveness."
[Either you don't have the balls or you don't feel the same]
"So I stopped to think. There's no place in my life for a loved one like you, for a deviation from the norm. According to popular opinion, I should marry a respectable man and have brat children. But something Heero said to me--several times--struck home. 'I'm going to kill you.'" She chuckled softly, tugging on Dorothy's hands, urging her to sit on the bed.
"He made me realize that there are things I can't have. There are things the world can't have. Peace. There will never be true peace; I realize that now. Only beautiful moments that shine through the darkness, guiding us back towards day and through midnight. I won't let the Sanc Kingdom take those from me."
"However, I can't afford to throw it all away on a whim. You're either with me, or you're not. No more power struggles. No more back-stabbing. If you do," her eyes narrowed dangerously, "in the words of my first crush: Omae o korosu."
Dorothy was struck speechless.
[Come here
stand in front of the light
Stand still
so I can see your silhouette
I hope
that you have got all night
cause I'm not done looking yet]
When had the childish girl turned into a woman? Before her eyes, her mind supplied helpfully. She smiled, even as she bowed her head. Relena was truly her equal, and perhaps her better. Honor to her, then. But never the victory.
"Goodbye." She kissed her firmly, hands caressing her cheeks, then drew away, walking backwards from her lover, fighting down a feeling of nausea, smiling as she heard a sob echo from Relena's room into the hallway. At least she knew that their regrets, if not the paths of their lives, overlapped.
Ariana
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