20-Feb-2002
Title: The Good Soldier
Author: von (sablexo1@yahoo.com), and bonnejeanne (bonnejeanne@yahoo.com)
Category: het lemon PWP
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: 3 x 11
Spoilers: Series
WARNINGS: Het Lemon. Don't read if this turns you off.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners. Our stuff is ours. No money being made here.
As with all our fics, while our goal is to stay as in character as possible, any discrepancies are our mistakes.
Feedback: Any and all comments welcome, be they short or long.
DEDICATION: This fic is dedicated to and was written exclusively for Cassiopeia, because we love her.
Trowa sat at his locker with his uniform unbuttoned and replayed the day's events. He had much to think about, considering he'd had just overridden Lady Une's right hand man, Nicole. His actions had prevented the Lady from being killed, but he wondered just how long he'd be able to keep this cover.
Tossing his hat on the top shelf of the locker, Trowa paused as he heard the sound of others approaching.
"Looks like the Colonel picked up another pet," one of the OZ soldiers said and then chuckled.
"Yeah," the other agreed. "I almost feel sorry for Nicole, but he can take care of himself."
More laughter. "Well, that new guy is creepy enough, but I daresay, she could take him on," the first soldier said.
"Oh come on. You don't believe that stuff, do you? The Lady maybe tough but ..." the other said.
"Don't underestimate her. I haven't had the pleasure yet, but there's plenty of talk going around. And you should remember, she's not always the umm, Lady. Course, I'd like to see the Tiger half, myself."
"Come on, Brick," the second soldier said. "Like she would give you the... hey," he added, nodding in Trowa's direction.
All talk suddenly ceased and Trowa could hear the men going about their business. Sighing deeply, he attempted to turn his thoughts towards plans for the next mission.
A short while later, Trowa heard footsteps again. This time they drew nearer and he looked up.
"Trowa Barton," the fresh-faced young man said. "The Colonel wishes to see you immediately. I am to accompany you, sir!" he added, crisply.
Standing, Trowa retrieved his hat and buttoned his uniform back up. A few moments later, he followed behind the ensign as ordered. Along the way, he turned the other soldier's words over in his mind, wondering what they had meant.
The private call with Mister Treize had ended ten minutes before, but the blank, empty connection still stared back blindly from the screen. Beside it, a single rose rested on the desk. Impatiently, her fingers pulled at the light brown tresses, not quite shaking as they divided the hair into three strands and began weaving them into a single tight plait. The more intricate style with two braids would have taken longer and her nerves were not going to wait. She turned all the lights in the cabin down and lit a single red candle, placed so it would draw the eye of anyone entering the room, while leaving the rest of the place in shadows. Pulling off her uniform, she reached for the small ball of filmy material and pulled it on while waiting for the knock at the door that would come any moment, if that idiot ensign knew what was good for him.
Not two heartbeats passed before the knock at the door came. Trowa watched the young man closely, noting that he did not open the door, or hardly even listen for a response. Instead, the young man saluted him after knocking and then turned and walked away. Emerald green eyes looked up at the door and Trowa got a definite impression that this was going to be something unusual.
He opened the door a fraction and then said, "Trowa Barton reporting, Colonel, may I come in?"
"Enter!" the order was snapped, though the room seemed oddly dark beyond.
Schooling his features back to impassive, Trowa walked into the room, expecting anything. His eyes were immediately drawn to the single lit red candle and the empty computer screen. Thoughts of possible torture ran through his mind, but he discarded them in favor of a possibility that the setting was of a particular interest to Lady Une.
No need to act any differently, he thought, walking in and standing at attention. "Trowa Barton, reporting, sir. At your command," he said, standing straight and still.
"You said that already," the woman behind him snapped. "Eyes front, soldier," she added, forestalling any move to turn around. The door behind him closed and he heard the lock click into place.
"I've been looking into station reports of activity while I was away," she said, and he could hear her moving behind him but she did not come into his line of sight. "Someone attempted to cover up a few things. I will have the truth, and now, soldier. Did or did not Lt. Nicole attempt to fire the beam cannon at the colony... while I was in the line of fire?"
"Yes, he did, Colonel," Trowa answered without hesitation.
"And did or did not you, Trowa Barton, knock out the crew on the firing deck and disable the weapon?"
"Yes, Colonel. I did," Trowa responded, eyes forward.
"You realize that was an act of insubordination, don't you?"
Here it comes, Trowa thought. Mentally he prepared himself for whatever it was going to take to escape.
"Yes, Colonel. I did, ma'am," he said. "May I offer in my defense, Lt. Nicole had not received orders from you or any acting authority. In checking his data, the beam would have killed you, sir, and possibly only damaged the Colony. I ... didn't think you would want that, sir."
"So you think you know what I want, Trowa Barton?" the tone was dangerously cool and the voice close behind him. "Such an act in a time of war would be grounds for your immediate execution, without benefit of court marshal." Before he could answer, he felt something of a light touch brush the back of his neck.
"I suppose you might think that you could escape such action due to the influence of your father, Dekim Barton, is that right?"
For a moment, the light touch and the name of Dekim Barton broke Trowa's concentration. As he was processing the Lady's actions, he nearly missed a cue. Straightening his shoulders, he calculated that a hesitation might be passed off as nerves. "I would not seek such a privilege, sir. I am a soldier and no different than any other soldier under OZ commanded and bound by OZ rules and regulations," he said.
"You are Colony born, are you not?"
"Permission to speak freely, ma'am," Trowa asked.
"Denied! Answer the goddam question," she snapped, her breath on his neck.
Trowa blinked, but kept his eyes forward. "I am Colony born, sir." he answered crisply.
He heard an exhale of breath as she seemed to notch down the tension a little. "Of course," she answered. "You Colony people are so eager to become a part of something, aren't you? You are intelligent, unencumbered by false nationalism... and just bursting with a desire to adopt all the useless outdated trappings of the Earth." She shifted behind him and he felt something hard press lightly into his back. He had no trouble recognizing the barrel of a gun.
"Then listen and learn. Your actions were inexcusable. Nicole was on the mark. My presence was inconsequential to the goal of ending that battle. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Trowa replied, quietly.
"Good," she said. The he heard and felt her move back several steps.
"Turn around," she ordered.
Trowa took a breath and then turned as commanded. He had no intention of dying at the Colonel's hand, should it come to that.
The candle behind him threw shadows around the room, but his eyes adjusted and he could see her standing several feet away. But what he saw stopped his thoughts as if they were frozen in their tracks.
Her hair was pulled back severely into a single braid, and she was pointing a gun at him with an unwavering grip. The candle light reflected off her glasses. And she was dressed in a sheer, clinging black catsuit and nothing else. Her body was visible through the fine, clinging mesh, softened but not hidden by the filmy material.
"You did what you had to do, Trowa Barton," she said, her tone ringing an odd note. "Sometimes... we all do what we have to do. Even I. Even he."
The perpetual cool mask slipped a bit and Trowa found his eyes drawn to the figure of the woman's body. Unable to keep himself from scanning the vision before him from top to bottom, Trowa mentally cursed and pulled his eyes up and forward as commanded. She still had a gun trained on him, but he found that element of the situation easier to deal with.
"Take off your uniform jacket," she said calmly.
Green eyes snapped up to hers as Trowa fought to keep from frowning. A question of why died on his lips as he reached up and unbuttoned his jacket. His eyes not leaving hers, Trowa removed the jacket and awaited further instruction. He was certain that no one had ever mentioned this element of OZ in any of his missions.
"Are you armed?"
"Yes, ma'am," Trowa answered.
"Remove your weapon and toss it next to the door."
Fanning his hands out, Trowa let the jacket drop to the floor. Reaching behind him carefully, he removed the gun from its holster at his waist and bent to the floor. Placing it on the ground, he slid it towards the door. Ok, that's out, he thought. He prepared himself to be shot. If that happened, he calculated he could use the time between rounds to get close enough to her to snap her neck. Of course, Lady Une was known as a dead shot, so he doubted that he was going to make it out. Oh well, he thought. I guess I've done my part, then.
"Remove your shirt."
Trowa blinked again. This time, he moistened his lips with his tongue. What the hell? he thought, as he reached up to unbutton his shirt. It then occurred to him that she might be going for an alibi in which he attacked her and she defended herself by shooting him. Understandable, he thought as he gave Lady Une credit for creativity.
The shirt was dropped on the floor next to the jacket.
She took a moment and appeared to look him over very carefully. Then she smiled.
"I wanted to make sure there was no mistake," she said, the gun still leveled. "It seems, Trowa Barton, that you've run into some hard times recently. You've lost... several inches... about forty pounds... and at least five years since your last recorded medical examination."
Trowa's mouth opened and then closed. This was bad. This was extremely bad. Vaguely, he wondered how she had found out, but it was inconsequential. He knew one thing for certain. One of them was going to die and since she had the gun, he figured she had a better chance of survival. However, he was not ready to give it up yet.
"Ma'am?" he said, as if confused. His eyes were drawn back to the womanly body in the suit. It's a diversion, he thought, trying to make it fit and make sense.
"You are a consummate player," she said calmly. "But it is time to stop acting. You are thinking that you are not ready to die yet. That's good, because I'm not ready to kill you. There's a way for you to get out of this room alive, Trowa Barton. I am going to continue to call you Trowa Barton. You will continue to be Trowa Barton unless you do die. Then you will simply be a nameless soldier who failed his mission. Tell me if you understand what I have just said, Trowa Barton?"
"Yes, ma'am," Trowa said, "I understand that." Why is she going through all of this trouble? he thought. She had me before I walked into the room.
"Good," she said, and her tone was almost warm, nearly approving. "Excellent. Now listen closely. I don't know who you really are. I don't know what your mission is. But I know it isn't to kill me or you would not have stopped Nicole." She paused, and her tongue came out briefly to moisten her lips. It took willpower for her to stand every bit as much at attention as he was all this time, and for the gun to remain rock-steady on its target.
"Right now, I don't care who you really are. I know that Dekim Barton is a wealthy Colonist. Perhaps wealthy enough to have provided the materials for constructing a special mobile suit..." She smiled slightly. "But that is unimportant. You are remarkably bright and talented. And there is always a chance that you might end up being on our side."
Trowa felt himself relax slightly. He didn't have a clue as to what the woman wanted. He just knew that for the time being, his neck was out of the noose. It was still dangling before his eyes, but part one was over. Fat chance, he thought, then realized that he might have been mistaken in his assumption. "You mean OZ, right?" he asked.
She frowned. "No, not OZ," she snapped. "Our side. Mine, and Treize." Reaching her free hand up she adjusted her glasses. Taking a step towards him, she stopped. "Don't answer. It is not important. There is only one thing that is important right now. How you can get out of this room alive - right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Trowa replied, feeling a definite reaction in his body as he watched her. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that the Lady was a bit stressed at the very least. Trowa had seen many sides of her, but she was mostly clothed at the time and certain things he just had not thought about. Watching her move in the suit, even with the gun pointed at his chest, the green-eyed pilot suddenly thought of other reasons for his interrogation.
He looked at the woman as he remained in the position that he had been ordered.
"Better," she said, taking another step forward. "It hinges on this one thing. You told me a little while ago that you did not think I would want what was happening when you took those actions. You seem very confident about knowing what I want. That is your chance. We are going to find out if you really know what I want. If you really do understand me so well, you can return to duty tomorrow, and return to being Trowa Barton, with none but the two of us the wiser."
Trowa felt his heartbeat quicken as the Lady took a step towards him. He caught a whiff of her aroma and it caused an immediate reaction in his pants. Lavender, he thought, absently. "How?" he asked, quietly.
Watching him closely, she shifted her hand, pointing the muzzle of the gun into the air. Taking another step closer, she was now in arm's reach. "What do I want, Trowa Barton?" she said, her voice taking on an odd quality. He could see her eyes through the glasses were pinned to his.
Trowa looked back, suddenly feeling calm. Reaching out, he encircled Lady Une's waist, pulling her against his body. His free hand clasped her wrist, squeezing with enough pressure to loosen her grip on the gun. Leaning forward slowly, he pressed his lips to hers, tracing them with his tongue. He then pried her mouth open with his and deepened the kiss.
He could feel her relax a little against him, in fact could feel everything through the near-nonexistent material of the catsuit. She accepted his kiss, passive at first, then slowly beginning to respond.
Trowa relieved the lady of her weapon, flipped the safety on and tossed it away absently. Moving his hands to her rib cage, he smoothed them down her sides and around the curves of her rear. Her body felt good in his hands as he kissed her thoroughly, drawing heat from them both. He felt the tightness in his pants become more pronounced and instinctively pulled her tighter against him.
Slowly she raised her arms and draped them around his neck. She seemed to be responding as if through a distance, although the distance seemed to be getting less, little by little.
When his lips finally left hers, she looked at his face, admiring the elegant lines of his features. "He's a beautiful boy," she said quietly. "There is a great deal more to him than meets the eye, but what meets the eye is not so bad either. He's an excellent soldier, a talented pilot... his eyes see more than others do... you would like him, Mister Treize..."
Trowa's chest rose and fell rapidly as he listened to Lady Une speak. At first, the words meant little, but a short time later, the green eyes widened as the name Treize sank in. Trowa's head turned as he sought the only other light source in the room. A small frown creased his features as he looked at the blank com screen.
Une's fingers reached up and turned his face from the screen. "We're alone," she said, looking into Trowa's green eyes, the candlelight reflecting off her glasses. "His call ended fifteen minutes ago. He is on Earth and I am here... because he told me to come. We do what we have to do, do we not, Trowa Barton?"
Trowa looked down at Lady Une for a moment. "Yes, we do," he answered, covering her mouth with his again.
She leaned against him and he could feel the contours of her body. Her mouth warmed slowly to the kiss, until she was responding to it fully. Her hands traced a path along his shoulder and across his chest and back, as if examining him with her fingertips.
Feeling her response, Trowa explored her body with his hands as his temperature grew. The black mesh was tantalizing to his fingertips offering him the warmth of Lady Une's body and the ironic restriction of the web. Breaking the kiss, he lifted her up off the floor and carried her to a nearby wall. It was not at all elegant, but what his body demanded as he leaned against her in the darkness and ground his body against hers. His mouth closed around the soft skin of her neck as he licked and nipped at her with his teeth.
She leaned her head back a little, giving him better access to her skin. Her eyes opened and she watched him, her expression calm and a little distant. "How old are you?"
Trowa looked down at her. A hint of a smile played at his lips. "Old enough," he said, a little breathless.
She smiled back. "So was I," she said obscurely. Reaching up, she feathered her fingers through his forelock. "You think you know what I want... so why are you still wearing those," she murmured, her hand plucking at his pants. Her tone wasn't challenging, merely a touch coquettish.
This time Trowa did smile. Leaning down, he hoisted Lady Une over his shoulder and carried her the small distance to her bed. "Not for long," he said, quietly.
Setting her on her feet, the green-eyed pilot unfastened his pants and bared his body. Being a performer, the notion of modesty was quaint. Turning back to the lady, he slid his hands around her face and kissed her again.
She licked his lips and slid her hands around his waist, feeling the smooth skin over trained muscle. With each moment she seemed to relax a little more, become less distant. "Yes," she murmured distractedly.
Feeling his heartbeat drum in his chest, Trowa moved his hand down and covered Lady Une's breast. Squeezing it gently, he ran his thumb across her nipple, teasing it to tautness. He then kissed the pulse at her neck as he inhaled her scent deeply.
All thought fused into action, as he felt his aching manhood throb with tension. A part of him could not fathom why she would even give him a spare thought, let alone bring him into such an intimate situation.
She gasped and pressed her body into his hand. Her eyes behind the flat glass circles continued to watch him as she reached down along his stomach and lower until she could curl mesh-gloved fingers around his flesh. Already responsive, she stroked it with a knowing touch. Her tongue touched her lower lip as she felt his reaction. "Hmm... yes, I am starting to think you *do* know what I want. You're a good soldier, aren't you, Trowa Barton?"
Trowa gasped as he felt the mesh encased hand move around him. Half-lidded green eyes looked into the Lady's dark ones in front of him. "Yes ... ma'am," he replied, feeling the pleasure she was causing his body.
Nodding as if he said something important, she continued to stroke his now-hard erection. "You always know when to stand to attention," she murmured, and there might have almost been a twinkle behind the glass circles. Looking through them, Trowa realized they did not distort her eyes. That meant... they were plain glass. Not corrective lenses.
"Don't 'at ease' yet," she added, and then slipped to her knees in front of him. At first she simply studied his body, as if she were examining it for some kind of report. Then she leaned slowly forward, opened her mouth and took him inside.
Trowa watched the stunning woman drop gracefully to her knees before him and worked to implement her orders. He could feel the perspiration on his brow begin to plaster his hair down. His whole body shivered when he saw her open her mouth and move towards him. The touch and enclosure of her warm mouth around him brought forth a deep groan as he fought for some kind of control. Glancing down, he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes as his body reacted to the sight.
She certainly knew exactly what she was doing down there. Just enough suction, tongue work, movement, and a firm grip around the base of his cock... it was, to put it simply, the best blow job he'd ever received. She let him enjoy it for a while before she brought him to a very satisfying conclusion.
Trowa shuddered as he felt his body release. Suddenly his legs gave out and he sat down on the bed, taking in large gasps of air. He kept his eyes on Lady Une, unable to look elsewhere.
She looked right back at him, reaching up to wipe something from the corner of her mouth, and then push her glasses up on her nose automatically. "Good soldiers deserve their reward," she murmured. "Did you know that a soldier in the midst of his battle is the most beautiful thing?"
Trowa's lips parted slightly as he watched the Lady wipe her mouth. He felt his dwindling cock actually twitch at the knowledge that it was his essence she was wiping away. His eyes moved down to the faint light on one of her shoulders. "Yes, ma'am," he said softly, thinking that the words she had just spoken could be easily applied to her.
She tilted her head slightly, watching him. Getting up, she sat beside him on the bed, turning his face towards her. She said quietly, "You really *are* a soldier, after all, aren't you? Not just someone masquerading as one cleverly."
Trowa found her close proximity wonderfully disturbing. "Yes, ma'am," he said, as his eyes dropped to her chest momentarily. As he inhaled he could smell her scent beyond the lavender she wore. He licked his lips and continued to watch her.
Noticing his look, she reached out and took one of his hands, and placed it over her breast.
"Tell me about your first battle," she said, leaning back on the bed without dislodging his hand until she was reclining fully.
"Fire," Trowa said, squeezing the firm flesh under his hand. "Fire and confusion. I was scared out of my mind, but I had been trained to survive. There was death, screams and explosions all around," he continued as he moved his hand down and over her stomach. "I managed not to get shot, but I had plenty of bruises and couldn't hear well for three days. I made it out," he ended with a shrug.
She listened closely to every word, and Trowa had the feeling that she had heard it all, and understood even what he was not saying. She reached up, tracing her fingers across his cheek. "So young, but you know so much," she murmured.
"Had to learn or die," he said, simply. Trowa's fingers sought out and grazed Lady Une's sex beneath the mesh. Rubbing her gently, his nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of her undiluted scent. Stroking lower, he felt his body shiver again as his fingers located the slit in the crotch of the catsuit she wore. Without hesitation, he sank his fingers into the opening of the material and further, feeling the lady's wetness flow over his hand.
Her eyes closed for a moment and she shifted a little as his fingers penetrated the fold of her sex. Reaching up, she slowly took the glasses off and placed them on a table beside the bed. Licking her lips, she focused on his face.
"What do I want?" she said in a near whisper.
Trowa did not answer with words. Instead he moved his hand back and forth as he plunged his fingers inside the Lady's wet and inviting sex. Moving closer, he kissed her lips, parting them with his tongue. Closing his eyes, he felt her hips begin to rock in time with the rhythm of his hand. Sliding his tongue into her mouth, Trowa mimicked his hand as he took possession there as well.
His cock brushed against her thigh as it re-awakened and lengthened.
Her arms moved up and around him, drawing him closer as she moved under his touch. Her breathing deepened and she responded to his kiss as her legs moved a little more apart. She felt his firming shaft against her skin and reached down with one hand, cradling and stroking it. When he raised his head a little, she looked up, her lips slightly swollen. "Soldier," she murmured, "What do I want?" It was like a mantra and suddenly Trowa realized that those were the only words she would allow herself to say.
Trowa moved over her parted legs. Removing his hand from her body, he used it to cover her soft one around his hardened flesh. Guiding his shaft towards the opening in the catsuit, Trowa sighed deeply as he felt his cock slide smoothly into her welcoming body. Bending his head, he kissed the Lady deeply as his hips began rocking upward, impaling her over and over again.
She closed her eyes and adjusted her body, bending her knees to wrap her legs around his. Once they were settled together, his rhythm matched and cradled by her body, she opened her eyes again and watched him steadily, as her eyes began to shine. Her hands moved restlessly across his skin, closing on his shoulder or back in a sudden grip, then loosening to wander again, up to his neck, down to the curve of his rear, working and flexing as he moved in her.
He could feel her body heat and respond with increasing tension, even though her expression was so calm. Her breathing became rapid and shallow and then suddenly she stiffened, eyes closing once again as her hands gripped him and her legs tightened around his.
Trowa held on to Lady Une tightly as he watched the beautiful woman climax in his arms. He felt her body flutter along his stiffness, both soothing and milking him at the same time. Moments later, as he felt her begin to settle, his hips thrust forward and he released his essence deep inside. Leaning down, he stole another kiss as he cradled her against him on the bed.
She curled against him, letting her head turn to rest against his shoulder. After a little while, she turned her head a little more and kissed his shoulder, and then his cheek. She shifted until they were resting side by side, entwined together. One hand returned to stroke his cheek, then move down his body until it rested on his hip.
"Trowa Barton," she said softly, and her voice, though quiet, was not distant or distracted at all, it was very much alive and present.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered immediately.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "You will leave this room at first watch tomorrow," she said. "And what has taken place here is for you and I to know. No one else."
Trowa sighed deeply, pulling Lady Une even closer. "Heard and understood ma'am," he said, with a small, sleepy smile. "I will comply with the beautiful Colonel's orders in toto."
"Of course," she murmured, her voice sounding a little sleepy as well. "You are a good soldier, after all."
Trowa responded by nuzzling her cheek and kissing the Lady's temple as he closed his eyes.
~owari~
Please send comments to: sablexo1@yahoo.com and bonnejeanne@yahoo.com