18-June-2001
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
Diane Davis - fenwyck@radiks.net
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Special Guest Writer! Nixie the Pixie!*
Nixers - Nixerchan@aol.com
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: NC-17 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1x2, 3+4
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
Apologies for the interruption in posting brought on by the visit of former tropical storm Alicia to my house. Heh heh...
Dorothy paused on her way from settling in the VIPs to checking on the last minute preparations in the main ballroom, turning to speak with the retainer who was keeping pace with her. As she answered, a motion from the corner of her eye caught her attention. She shifted enough to get a good look, and her voice hitched, faltering a tiny bit as she noticed Duo and Heero leaning casually against a doorway together, watching her intently. The braided boy's smile widened into a feral grin as she met his eyes, and he winked at her. At that, Heero grabbed Duo's arm, and the two of them sauntered off together, heading for the stairs, and presumably their room. Dorothy turned back to the retainer, completing the instructions she'd been in the middle of, trying to ignore the faint chill racing down her spine.
Pargan knocked discreetly on the door of the room, which had been designated as the Control Room for the broadcast of the Memorial Ceremony events. In his hand he held the finalized schedule of the broadcast intended for the Vice Minister's attaché, but his thoughts were a few steps ahead with plans for care of household as well as the private plans for Mr. Yuy.
After a few moments, he pushed the door open and walked inside quietly.
Dorothy glanced up from the papers she was flipping through, a small frown on her face. "Is that the final schedule?" she asked, standing and weaving her way between the few members of the harried staff that had the privilege of working in the Control Room.
"Yes," Pargan replied as he handed her the folder. "Is there anything else, you or the staff might be needing, Miss Dorothy?"
"No, Pargan. Thank you very much. I was about to come looking for this, as we're about to start," she said with a sigh of relief as she scanned the contents quickly. Nodding to herself she glanced back up, "Is Miss Relena doing all right then?"
"Miss Relena is quite well. She is reviewing her notes for her address and if I may say so, I think both of you have done quite excellently with the event," Pargan offered.
"The day is not over yet, but thank you, Pargan. If we can prevent any catastrophes from popping up, I think we should be in the clear," she replied with a polite smile.
"Indeed," Pargan answered and returned what he hoped to be an encouraging nod. "I will have a pot of tea on hand for you and Miss Relena after the address. You have only to call."
"Thank you, Pargan. I don't know what we'd do without you," she said gratefully. "Well, I'd best get these changes down to the technician's room quickly. Was there anything else?"
Pargan bowed slightly. "No, I think... " he began and then stopped himself. "...Well yes there was, in fact. Mr. Yuy and Mr. Maxwell were looking for you and the Vice-Minister earlier. It looked like it might be a matter of some urgency, but perhaps not serious," he said.
Dorothy blinked, swallowing back a small murmur of surprise. "Oh. I, uh... Will have to look them up later," she said smoothly, "Did they... mention what the matter might be?"
Pargan's shrewd eyes caught the hesitation and the slight pale to Dorothy's skin as she spoke. In a way, it was refreshing to him to be in the presence of youthful happenings. It kept his own mind sharp. And since becoming Miss Relena's companion, Dorothy Catalonia had become a kind of foster charge to him as well. Looking down on the young woman, Pargan smiled.
"No, they said nothing of why," Pargan answered. "Though I do take that it was a matter of a more ... personal nature as they spoke to each other in private before asking me where you were."
"Ah. Thank you, Pargan," she replied, "Do they have a copy of the itinerary so they know where to find me throughout the day?"
"Yes, they do," Pargan replied. Taking a step closer, he said quietly, "Though I think that they might be engaged until after the address. They also spoke of finding the children, which will probably take some time."
"Ah. Very good. If you happen to see Miss Relena before I do, don't worry about mentioning this to her quite yet. I'll speak with her about it later when she doesn't have quite so many matters on her mind," Dorothy said pleasantly before glancing at one of the clocks throughout the room. "I really must get this down to the Technician's room, but thank you so much for your help, Pargan."
"My pleasure, Miss Dorothy, and good show," he said, turning to leave.
"You have no idea *how* good," Dorothy muttered to herself as Pargan exited the room. "Ah, well... at least I got a kiss before I die." With a fatalistic shrug, she walked out the door and headed down the corridor to a smaller hallway. As she turned the corner, a pair of figures down another hallway caught her attention.
Heero was leaning against the wall, looking out a nearby window, his hands shoved into his black jeans and a bored expression on his face. Duo was draped over his shoulder, grinning like a maniac as he spoke to the Japanese pilot. Both of them turned as she came into view, Duo's grin thinned into a wicked smirk before he blew her a kiss. Heero's expression never slipped from bored detachment as he took Duo's arm and dragged him from sight, the braided youth's oh-too-malicious sounding cackle fading away slowly after they'd vanished.
Dorothy's hands unclenched from their deathgrip on the folder she was clutching. With a deep sigh, she continued her trek to the small room at the end of the low-traffic hallway. She'd underestimated the speed at which she'd be discovered. She'd been hoping for at least the rest of the day to plan a defensive strategy. Ah well. At least it had been an adventuresome life.
Standing on the small platform outside in the Sanc Palace gardens, Relena spoke directly to the vid cameras as well as the crowd of guests who were listening.
"Throughout this day, we have heard and seen people around the world and across all the Colonies who have shown that even though the scars of war and conflict may still be seen, they do not hold us back. Instead, they inspire us - to work hard for peace, to overcome obstacles without conflict, and to rebuild for the sake to the future and those who will live in it. We have taken time to remember those who gave so much that we who remain can have a chance to build, some of whom have given their lives, other who have dedicated those lives that remain, and many who have given their hearts, minds, and courage to bring about peace, and protect it. I would like to take one final moment, and ask for a minute of silence, for those brave souls. Please join me by remembering those who have touched your lives during the past two years, who will not be able to join us in enjoying the peace they worked, fought, and even died for."
As she finished speaking, the Vice Minister stepped back, and lowered her eyes, knowing that the broadcast would show a number of views, from those in the garden area, some on the platform and some in the audience, to rooms inside the mansion, to scenes across the Earth and in different Colonies where places of significance and memorials of various events or individuals could be seen.
Her words carried across the loudspeakers, as well as through intercoms inside and was broadcast to listeners throughout the Earth Sphere, and in each place they were heard, each listener took a moment for some personal memory of the time.
Away from the crowd assembled outside, Zechs Merquise had sat within the expansive ballroom that was awaiting the guests' later arrival for the party afterwards, the room's silence filled with his sister's clear voice.
He'd only had a small pang of guilt for not being in the audience while she gave her speech, but it was quickly rationalized that this would be the only time he'd be able to do this without a few hundred hidden eyes on him.
//"Please join me by remembering those who have touched your lives during the past two years, who will not be able to join us in enjoying the peace they worked, fought, and even died for."//
As the universal silence followed the quiet request, he pushed himself off of his perch, one hand closing around the rose he'd taken from the garden last night. With measured steps, he approached one of the many low hanging portraits in the room.
Unwrapping the favored flower, he placed it lightly on the hardwood frame, its balance assured by the good inch or so the painting's framework had to offer out. Not taking a step back immediately, he ran a single finger along the engraved, golden tag: T. Khushrenada.
Finally looking up to meet the eyes made out of oils and acrylics, he gave the painting itself a faint, if genuine smile, and an Oz salute, turning the quick gesture into a lingering trailing of his fingers over the textured surface as he turned away. He stood a moment longer, head bowed and back to the portrait, obviously composing himself. Still not breaking the silence, he mouthed the word "Gomen nasai," in an expellation of air.
That said, the polite distant facade snapped back into place and the sharp sound of boot heels echoed in the large room as Zechs departed, intent on rejoining the audience before the ceremony was finished.
Dorothy Catalonia stood, watching over the shoulder of the technician editing the broadcast feed, her eye caught by a camera from one of the Palace rooms. Someone had set it to be trained onto the former Chief Representative of Earth's portrait as a possible tasteful shot to be included in the montage. But it was Dorothy who noticed the approach of the platinum-haired eldest Peacecraft, and quickly tapped the director on the shoulder and simply pointed. Caught by the graceful figure of the once-Lightning Count, the director immediately placed the brief, poignant moment into the mix of images being broadcast to the Sphere.
And sitting in his private rooms, in his own estate, hidden from the world, the man thought to have died in the battle over Earth saw the image on the screen and felt time stop.
One pale hand reached out longingly towards the vid screen, while twin tears slipped unnoticed from his unblinking eyes. The silence of his self-imposed exile barely caught the broken whisper as it escaped from his lips. "Milliardo..."
In the moment of silence, Heero Yuy stood on the platform and felt moments in time slip through his memory. Reaching Earth, Relena on the beach, Duo, dying, living, enduring and finally the moment of his own truth played in his mind. 'I will ... live,' he heard in his head as it beat back the darkness.
Raising his head, Heero's Prussian blue eyes swept to the left and right. In those moments, he found his saving grace in five little faces and suddenly it didn't seem so cold inside. Quatre, Trowa, Wufei and his heart, Duo Maxwell stood with him and within him. Reaching out, Heero took Duo's hand in his silently. The touch steadied him even further and he felt renewed within his soul. At that moment, Heero knew that whatever they stood to face, they would all face together.
Glancing over at Duo, he smiled just enough for his lover, his friend and his soul-mate. If there were trophies of war, Heero felt that Duo was his.
Duo's fingers instinctively tightened in Heero's hand, while the rest of him fell headlong into Heero's eyes. It was a long moment before he could remember what it was to breathe again, and offer back a ghost of a smile in return. Even then, it seemed a pitiful exchange for the surge of fierce joy that filled him as he glanced from Heero to the children and the other pilots, and then back to the other half of his own soul.
Head bowed, Quatre let his mind drift as he remembered all that had happened to lead to this day. Images, faces, moments in time ghosted through his memory, and he experienced it all again, just for a brief second. As he thought of those he had faced in battle, and those he had stood with as allies and as friends, the flow of memories inevitably turned to his father. As his throat tightened, he opened his eyes and looked up at the sky as if looking out into the darkness of space.
'I... miss you,' he thought, 'Even after the time that's passed. I wish I could have said... I love you, just one last time. And I wish... that perhaps, with time, you might have understood why I left.' With an almost inaudible sigh, he looked out at the crowds, then at the others on the platform with him. Scooting just a bit closer to Trowa, he rested a hand on the taller pilot's back. Perhaps his father might have even someday been... proud of the peace that they'd all given so much to build.
Trowa stood with his arms folded over his chest. Moment of silence, he thought. Too many moments of silence. He felt the touch of Quatre's hand on his back and smiled down at the young Arabian. So much had happened to them, to all of the pilots, that it was nearly impossible to grasp. Within all of the death and the darkness, the emerald-eyed pilot had found himself and he knew that there were far too many people alive or dead to thank for that. Standing on the platform, he felt neither a hero or a stranger. In fact, the only thing he did feel at that point was that he belonged.
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced over at Tryan and Carter. His lips curved into a small smile as he silently pledged himself to the young boys once again.
As a hush settled over the crowd at Relena's request for a moment of silence, Sallah looked out at the people around her and on the podium, one hand shading her eyes against the brightness of the sun. Though she had not lost anyone in the wars of *this* world, she couldn't help but be affected by the nearly palpable emotions of those she saw, their expressions reflecting what they felt as they remembered. Her hand falling to her side, Sallah bowed her head, thinking as she had last night of those she had known who had lost their lives back in Arcadia--Wufan's father, Seyan, and friends like Dori, Helen, and far too many others. 'Peace to all of you,' she thought, 'May you have found a better place, a happier place, as I and the boys have.'
Mariemeia felt a presence behind and beside her as the moment of silence was observed. Without touching the little redhead, Wufei placed himself close to her as she stood beside Wufan and the other boys, close by Sallah. Whatever his thoughts were, his face remained impassive but his mind was not reviewing the events of the past. Meiran was always with him, as were the members of his Clan, but the young Chinese pilot's thoughts were focused on the task ahead of him, all too aware that if they failed, the peace so hard won might pass like a dream into a darker night.
"And now," the Vice Minister's voice stirred the silence at last, "I urge everyone of us to look to the present, and the future, to the work yet to be done, the needs we must find a way to fill, and the knowledge that we *can* do it, if we work together." Relena extended her hand graciously outwards in a gesture of welcome.
"Thank you all for participating and sharing this day of recognition and remembrance. As we bring this ceremony to a close, may all of us share in the celebrations to come."
The carefully orchestrated presentation ended with music, and a sudden show of fireworks in the heavens above the Palace and here and there around the Earth as the solemn occasion ended and the festivities officially commenced.
As the fireworks wound down, Duan went to Relena and tapped her on the arm.
Relena looked down and her eyes crinkled as she recognized the small braided boy. "Hello, Duan!" she said. "How are you holding out through all this formal stuff?"
"I'm doing ok," Duan replied. "I just wanted to say thank you for having us. That was great with the pretty explosions... fireworks, I mean. Thanks!"
Relena beamed. "I thought you kids might like the fireworks," she confided. "I hope you enjoy the party later, though you know you shouldn't stay up too late!" Leaning down she impulsively gave the little boy a warm hug. "I'm so glad you came!"
Duan's eyes grew round as he was being hugged, but he reached up and hugged back as well. For a moment, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The Vice Minister smelled nice, like flowers, and she was soft too. "I'm glad too. This is fun," he said, unable to stop grinning.
Relena grinned at the little boy who was so cute she just had to kiss his cheek.
Behind her, someone cleared their throat. "Oh... I have to go play with the grownups now," she mentioned. "Bummer. Save some fun for me, Duan!"
"Ok, I will!" Duan said, "And don't stay with 'em too long, or they'll put you to sleep and you'll miss the fun." Turning, he scampered away with slightly flushed cheeks.
As the small braided boy dashed away, Mariemeia leaned towards Wufan beside her and whispered quietly, "Looks like Duan has *another* girlfriend!"
Wufan's mouth opened in surprise as he turned in the direction of Duan. Then, he covered his mouth and giggled. It was strange, because some part of him felt relieved and he didn't quite grasp why. He then looked back at Mariemeia, feeling the need to defend his friend. "That's not his girlfriend, though. I think she likes Heero and Duo," he said.
Mariemeia grinned widely and grabbed Wufan's hand. "Come on. Let's go catch up and see what's going on, then."
"Ok," Wufan answered.
Kenny leaned against a garden wall with his arms crossed. He looked at Duan as he came running up. "Hn," he remarked.
"What?" Duan said, a bit defensively. "I was just thanking her for the fireworks. She's glad we're here."
Kenny nodded noncommittally. "I bet," he said. Then he grinned and whispered something in Duan's ear.
Duan giggled and nodded a lot. "Yeah," he said.
Tryan looked over at Carter. "You holding up ok there, SS?" he asked.
Carter giggled. "Shhh!" he said. "Not in public!"
Tryan grinned, then nodded.
Wufan came to a stop as he saw Duan and Kenny take off. "Hn," he said, a little breathlessly. "There they go again."
"Wonder what they're up to?" Mariemeia mused thoughtfully, "Wanna try and catch up, or would you rather just go for a walk?"
"Let's just go for a walk. We could run after those two forever. If they need us for something, they'll find us," Wufan said.
"Okay," she agreed, and turned towards the gardens again, though she didn't release his hand, even though she was no longer towing him along behind her.
As the Vice Minister's speech resumed its broadcast over the household and world, Zechs paused en route to his destination of the gardens outside. A passing impulse reminded him of one other promise he'd intended to fulfill today, and now would likely be the only convenient time to do it. Listening to the cadence of his sister's words to vaguely guess the amount of time remaining, he turned and backtracked down to another corridor, far out of the way of the interest of wandering guests and tipsy socialites.
Rapping lightly on an inset door at the far end of the hallway, he stepped back a small distance.
The door cracked open and a familiar blue-eyed blond with a perpetual sardonic smile peeked out. "Ah, Mister Milliardo. I expected you would have been heading outside," Dorothy said smoothly, opening the door to the Technician's Room wider for him.
"Zechs, please," he corrected, more automatically than with any thought. Looking behind her to the other technicians, he shook his head slightly. "I was hoping to speak to you in private."
She smiled, murmuring, "Perhaps someday," cryptically, before looking behind her and nodding at the room's occupants. "I'll return shortly. Don't miss anything." With a final sweep of the crowded room, she slipped out the door and shut it behind her. "By all means. After you," she said, indicating the empty hallway with a sweep of her hand.
He nodded slightly in return, finding one of the many unused rooms along the long hallway. Opening the door for her, he didn't resume the conversation until both were within the sparely appointed room and the door was closed again. A brief look of discomfort crossed his features before he began, "I came to ask if I could call off an old favor and ask a new one of you."
One brow quirked up in inquiry as she seated herself on one of the few chairs. "You know I am always at your service, Mister Mil.. Zechs," she said with a small smile and a nod in his direction. "If it's within my power... ask."
"Well within," he replied, returning her small smile with a wry one of his own. "I need to know the location of Epyon." He paused a moment before adding, "It's a loose end that needs to be taken care of."
"How?" she asked, curiously.
"Like any other mobile suit, I'd imagine," Zechs said, a crease between his eyebrows the only indication of doubt. "It should have been done a while ago," he offered.
"Hm. Indeed. So why the sudden renewed interest?" she asked, watching him thoughtfully, "And what favor would you ask of me now?"
"Just the location," he said. "I had thought it would be worth two requests. As for the interest, it never waned. I'm simply redirecting it to where it should be."
She peered at him thoughtfully for a long moment, steepling her fingers before her as she considered him. "It's been speaking to you, hasn't it?" she observed in a voice that almost didn't carry to him but a few feet away.
Shock and a multitude of other, less identifiable emotions passed through widened blue eyes before they lidded again. "What has?" he asked without tone, as if it was a topic of polite conversation. The look that he returned to her was equally searching. "Epyon? I turned the systems off when I left it."
Dorothy snorted delicately, her smile widening before she rattled off a series of coordinates to a spot on the moon. "It won't do you any good, though," she continued blithely, "What you really want to destroy is no longer there. All you'll find is the broken husk of an already defunct weapon from a bygone era."
The coordinates down the to minutes were memorized quickly out of habit. The words drew a now visible frown. "Never the less, it's a human tradition to bury the husks left behind," he replied quietly, the words spoken absently while he turned over the words spoken to him. "So, what is it then, if not the machine?"
"It's already buried, Mister Milliardo. Though I imagine it would offer you some small measure of catharsis to see as much for yourself. When you entrusted it to me to hide, I did not take my duty lightly," she said with quiet intensity. "You never saw it then, did you? The Artifact. Mister Treize's curse..."
/That's why I trusted you with it./ Before he could put that thought to words, her continued speech turned it into a memory. Finally leaving the position he'd taken a few steps within the doorway, he pulled one of the empty chairs in the room to a place across from Dorothy and sat heavily in it. Fighting off a numbness and a confusion he knew was showing, he shook his head. "His curse..?"
"An object which he apparently came to possess, or rather, that came to possess him. A thing of ancient evil... which given your pallor, I would imagine has spoken to you at least once. He installed it in Epyon. A legacy he passed on which I'm sure he cursed himself for until that final fight. It wasn't his fault, Milliardo..." she said softly, glancing away to stare out the window.
"Zechs," he corrected, almost inaudibly. His own gaze had dropped to his hands. A few hundred questions, denials and acceptances crowded, but not one was that could be answered by the blond woman across from him.
She turned back to him suddenly, halting whatever he may have been about to say with her intense stare. "It wasn't yours either."
He forced himself to look back up at her evenly. "I had stopped blaming him a while ago," he said, instead. "It's .. interesting to think of what would have been different if I hadn't in the first place. Time can give some wonderful new perspectives."
"True enough," she agreed, cocking her head curiously, "The question is, however... When will you stop blaming yourself?"
"When there is nothing to blame," he replied, holding up one hand to forestall any answer. "How do you know all of this...? I lived with him, and never had a hint..."
"Because I *did* see it, and it touched me in a way..." she paused, looking away while a faint tremor shuddered over her, "It made me curious. I sought out what I could. Doubtless it kept itself hidden from you at the time because you were... not needed for its purposes then. Or perhaps it spoke to you even then, and you didn't realize it."
The tall man blanched a bit further at the thought of how many years... possibly... After a moment of silence between the two, against immediate rationality, a small chuckle escaped Zechs as he looked up at Dorothy with some fond humor. "I'm not certain you ever found them, but Quince used to draw caricatures of you as a cat. They were true in a more flattering way. I'm in debt to your curiosity again, Dorothy."
She returned his chuckle with a smile of her own. "There are times when cattiness is a virtue," she agreed, before turning thoughtful again. Something about his earlier scene with the portrait tugged at her as she contemplated him. "He left notes... Perhaps you would wish to see them later?"
It took a brief moment for Zechs to shift gears enough to realize /who/ she was talking about. The humor faded away into a more familiar thoughtful and somber countenance. "If it's possible," he said quietly, his eyes not quite meeting hers again.
"If I'm alive by the end of the night, then it's possible," she replied with a secretive little smile of tired humor. "I'll get them to you."
Zechs raised an eyebrow in response to the statement, but didn't press, not entirely sure he wanted to know. With a small, grateful smile, he nodded. "Thank you."
"It is the least I can do for you, as the brother to Miss Relena, and a gentleman in your own right," she replied, standing and offering him something approximating a courtly curtsey.
Mildly surprised at the sudden compliment, he stood as well, opening the doorway for her in a return gesture. "I won't keep you any longer, then."
She smiled wryly at him as she waited in the hallway for him. "I'm sure the technicians have appreciated their respite from my tyrannical forbearance," she replied.
Shutting the door behind him, he returned her humor. "I'm sure a little tyranny is good for them."
Her only response was a silent laugh before turning away and heading back to the crowded little room not far away. She paused at the door, not turning back as she called to him. "Zechs? I'm... I'm certain that if he could have seen it... he would have been as touched as the rest of us."
There was, if she had looked back, a visible shift from momentary confusion, to utter disbelief to something that could be considered very tenuously controlled. "Dorothy," he said, voice dropping an octave. "Are you implying..." he let the sentence trail off, looking at her through narrowed blue eyes.
"I'll get you those notes," she replied, before ducking back through the door to the technicians' domain again.
Staring a moment at the closed door, Zechs shook his head, pushing it all down by force. Allowing only a slight darkly humored smile he promised himself, /Later,/ before steeling himself to go back into the crowd of dignitaries and other guests, with the vague hopes that the broadcast he suspected hadn't been noticed.
Between the events of the morning, the confrontation with Heero, and then the ceremony, Wufei had any number of things swirling around in his thoughts as he slipped away from the gardens still filled with people and headed absently for the safety of his room. Seeing Mariemeia so different from the haunted child of before had warmed him, but also firmed his determination to bring up something to his hidden partner that he'd never imagined he would broach. It made him uncomfortable to intrude on the other man's personal decisions as he was contemplating, but he felt a growing drive fueled by his sense of what was right. He'd been silent for a long time, deeming himself as having no rights to overstep his place yet again, but a growing conviction was refusing to be ignored.
Deep in these thoughts, he turned a corner into the west wing and all but ran into a taller figure with long platinum hair.
Rocking back on his heels, Wufei scowled reflexively and then almost sighed. "Oh, Zechs," he muttered. "Excuse me," and prepared to go around the other man.
Startled out of his own preoccupation by the near miss, Zechs had almost fallen into the old pattern that seemed to have marked their brief confrontations lately. /At least someone's getting the name right today./
"Chang," Zechs began, adding a subtle enough change in tone, but didn't step immediately out of the small man's way.
With the recent events... he reasoned with himself.
Wufei's scowl returned when the tall blond did not move. "Something on your mind?"
Letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, Zechs shifted back onto his heels slightly. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped. "I wanted to call a truce. As temporary or as lasting as you wish."
Wufei looked at the other man, and then said, "A truce... to what?" Then he, too managed an near-inaudible sigh. "I don't have a problem with you, Merquise. If it seems so it's just... habit."
The other man nodded slightly, deciding to take the words without dispute or question. There was a moment where Zechs tried to decide how to proceed, distinct discomfort lining his face. "I'd give you the coordinates you asked for a while back," Zechs began, taking it in an entirely different direction. "But it's come to my attention that they'd no longer be of use. I'm still not entirely sure I understand what is going on, but I've put together enough to know I should, and want, to help resolve it. If you'll allow me." The last was spoken with a slight, more respectful nod of the head as he stepped back, allowing the Chinese man room to walk away if inclined.
Wufei's eyes widened and he stared at Zechs in a certain amount of shock. The series of events had fractured his ability to pull a mask completely over his reaction. There was a beat, then another beat, without the Chinese pilot speaking or doing anything other than staring into Zechs' blue eyes.
After a very long moment, he blinked, and then swallowed. "You..." he began, then stopped, looked down in an attempt to piece his thoughts together and looked back up, visibly gathering himself. "No longer of use..." he repeated quietly, as if imprinting the words, but aware of a need not to broadcast them. "You've put together..." Then Wufei straightened his shoulders and spoke clearly and directly.
"You want to help resolve it. Hn. Then you will need to know some things, and perhaps to tell some things. You must speak with Heero and Duo, and... someone else." The dark eyes usually so impassive were suddenly quite clearly full of many layers of emotion, too many to decipher easily.
Zechs had watched and listened as the other man composed himself, with more than a degree of unease and a nervousness that he hadn't thought he'd have, waiting for the hoped acceptance or the rejection. Whatever reaction he'd been expecting from Wufei hadn't exactly covered what he'd gotten. Unsure of what he should or could do, he kept his silence until it was more obvious that the words were actually meant for his ears.
"A fair enough exchange," Zechs murmured. A thoughtful frown crossed his featured and disappeared an instant later. "Someone else?" he asked. "Another family member?" trying to reason out the cryptic naming.
Wufei used the time to pull the familiar mask back over his features, with the exception of his eyes. "One thing at a time," he said, and the tone might have sounded cool without the layers of emotion in the dark eyes to go with it. Then the mask blurred slightly and Wufei asked, "Why this change?" The tone was simple, devoid of any implication, and somehow very young.
The question brought with it a disjointed feeling, hearing a memory echo something similar to it in Dorothy's voice. Somehow the sidestepping he'd done with it with Dorothy seemed wrong in the face of the expression on the other's face. Starting tentatively Zechs began, "For two years I've been looking for closure and in the wrong directions. A waking up of sorts," a brief ironic smile flitted across the man's face, almost too fast to register, "has suggested that this might finally be the right direction. I... am hoping it is."
Wufei listened and accepted the words. He nodded, then said softly, "The children... have gotten to you somehow. It's all changing as if a swift wind has gotten into a meadow that was still for an age." With these words, perhaps uncharacteristic of the Chang Wufei known to world at large, the Chinese pilot stepped back and then bowed, and said, "I'll find the others. We'll need to talk - tonight."
Zechs watched with a mixture of faint puzzlement, and obvious relief. With a smile born of the latter, he replied, "You do me an honor. Thank you."
A direct look from Wufei carried a hint of self-judgment that might have been startlingly familiar to the tall ex-warrior. "Perhaps I will, in time. If it still means anything. Until then... you've done yourself one. I believe you are looking in the right direction." With another very brief bow, he added, "Don't be hard to find in the next few hours." Then he moved with graceful urgency, intent on finding the other two gundam pilots as swiftly as possible.
Watching the other's stride for a moment, Zechs pushed his bangs out of his face and returned on his path to the stairwell, and his own room. With the milling, ever-changing crowd beginning to assemble below, it was probably the best and only place to be found if needed. Reviewing and filing away the more cryptic statements of the conversation as he walked, his attention clung to Wufei's last statement. The right direction?... Perhaps, if nothing else, it seem to hold more hope than anything else he'd seen, and he had the vague feeling he only could see the very tip of this particular iceberg.
TBC
End of Part 28
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