09-Jun-2001
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are owned by Bandai, Sunrise and
Sotsu Agency. I make no money off of the fics I write using these characters
and themes. I write these fan fictions strictly for the fun of it. The
original characters that do appear in my fics are of my own creation.
Ratings: R for language and yaoi lime.
Warnings: If you haven't noticed by now, this fic is completely AU. Although
it involves the Gundam universe, it obviously does not follow the plot. (I
sometimes forget to mention that in the disclaimer section). And so you don't
get too confused. In my narration of the story Zechs will be referred to as
Milliardo, since he is calling himself by his birth name, but when Treize
refers to him, whether in thought or dialogue he will be Zechs. Treize's
alias is Lord Byrom with a m not a n
Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 5+Sasha, 13+6
"Troup carriers, report in," Une barked over the COM.
"Oz Solar Ship Holmes reporting in with 01, getting into position over L1."
"O.S.S. Moriarty with 02 over L2."
"O.S.S. Baker Street waiting for orders over L3. The gundam is here as well."
"O.S.S. Watson also waiting, at L4. Ditto on the gundam"
"O.S.S. Baskerville ready over L5, with Nataku."
"Nataku?" Une asked.
"Yes ma'am, he says not to refer to his gundam as 05."
Col. Une stifled a chuckle by clearing her throat instead, "Nataku it is then. Stand down for now but maintain readiness. We act on word from his Excellency or Col. Pulaski only," Une instructed, "but stay in position and await your orders."
"Welcome to the conference, Lord Byrom," the security officer smiled, "please accept my apologies but we must scan you and your staff for contraband."
"By all means," Treize smiled back, "you must follow orders, after all."
"Thank you for your patience and understanding," the officer replied. Leaning toward Treize, like they were two gossipers sharing a secret, he said in a low voice, "you should have seen the snit Duke Dermail threw, even though he was the one who ordered everyone be searched."
Treize gave the man a cold stare, after all gossip about another Council member was not appreciated. But on the inside, Treize was laughing. It was no wonder everyone thought he was a prick. A fact Treize knew all too well.
"You may now enter the room," Security informed them, after receiving an 'O.K.' nod that nothing out of the ordinary had been found.
"Thank you," Treize said to the officer. "And so it begins," he muttered under his breath as he stepped through the doors.
"01, please report what you see," came the voice through Heero's earpiece.
"01 reporting in. There is no - I repeat - no battleship here," he answered.
"Thank you 01, we wanted to confirm transmissions we've intercepted. There is no battleship assigned to L1, we believe it's because they could not duplicate the codes."
"I'm going to look around," Heero stated, "that information could be a trick."
"Just don't wander outside our scanner range 01."
"Affirmative," he replied.
Milliardo watched the newly arrived group enter the conference after being announced. His eyes trailed up and down the newest Council member, Lord Byrom, observing every movement, gesture and nuance of his body movements. His mouth curled up in a tight little smile. He'd been expecting Treize to show up.
He'd known since the first announcement about the 'peace conference' that if Romefeller was excluding Oz and Treize, that Dermail and the Council were up to no good. Treize showing up in disguise, now confirmed that suspicion. As much as he hated the idea, now was the time to swallow what little pride he had left and find out from Treize exactly what was going on. His stomach began churning just thinking about it. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the small box he carried with him and popped it open. It seemed he was living on antacids these days because of his newly acquired ulcer.
"02 - report, please."
"Duo here, and yeah, your scanners were right, they have deployed their mobile suits. It looks like they were expecting us."
"Thank you 02, and please hold back and stay hidden, we don't want any fireworks just yet."
"I know, I know," Duo sighed, "but I do so love a good fireworks display."
"Just wait till we get home, then I'll show you fireworks," Heero's voice cut in.
"01, remember to maintain radio silence, please."
//Aw shit! I hit the wrong button.// Heero could feel his body flush hot as his face turned red.
Duo cut his radio connection so no one could hear him laugh his ass off.
"Dad, I know you're busy and all, but if you don't mind, I called my girlfriend to come and meet you," John said in between bites of the take-out food Nabor had fetched for them.
"Girlfriend?" Georgie asked, surprised, " I guess we do have a lot of catching up to do. Of course, I want to meet her. What's her name?"
"Prudence. We've been together since high school," John smiled, "she's cute, sweet and funny. I think you'll like her. Oh, but don't call her Prudence, she prefers Pru."
Sasha had been picking at her salad and staring at the television, waiting to hear something, anything about Wufei and the others. So far there had been no news, except the announcement of the arrival of the Council member from Scandia. Now that he was there, the talks could commence.
"Hey! Look!" she said with sudden excitement, pointing to the screen, "that's Lord Khushrenada!"
The cameras had zoomed in on a close up shot of Lord Byrom as he took his seat. The reporter was giving background information about the newest member of the Council as he got settled in.
"Well, I'll be damned," Georgie exclaimed, "if he's there that means..."
"That means they made it out there safely and Wufei and the others are all right," Sasha said, her relief filling her voice, " ...at least for now," she sighed and continued picking at her food.
The page walked behind Treize, tapped his shoulder and handed him a note, he recognized the flourish on the envelope.
With fingers almost stiff from trying not to tremble, he fumbled the envelope open and extracted the small slip of paper held within.
'There is a small restaurant not far from here called Le Compte. Meet me there when we break for dinner.' It was signed 'M'. Treize looked up and took a quick glance where Zechs was sitting, but his eyes were turned elsewhere.
Treize checked the time on his watch, they should be adjourning for dinner soon. He wondered if White Fang had found out about Romefeller's plans, or if Zechs wished to speak with him about 'other' matters. Whatever it was, would he have the right answers to satisfy him?
Wufei sat in Nataku surrounded by silence except for the even sounds of his breathing in his ears. It was hard not to let his mind wander to things other than the pending mission. He kept himself busy by checking and rechecking the gundam's systems in an attempt to keep himself focused and alert.
But it wasn't working, his mind would drift off and Sasha would fill his thoughts. Was she all right? Had Oz returned them safely? What was she doing right then, at that very moment? Had he fallen in love with her in those few short days they spent together? Or was it something else? And why was he missing her more and more as each hour passed?
He inhaled deeply, imagining the smell of her hair and her skin. He could feel the soft touch of her hand against his chest, he could taste her lips as they brushed his right before he plundered her mouth.
//Oi, I've got to stop this.// an image of her entwined around him as he entered her invoked a hardening of his flesh. He groaned, the last thing he needed was to be literally in the middle of nowhere, in a space suit with a raging hard on and no way to relieve it. He lowered the temperature control of the suit, hoping that would help and began rechecking everything he had checked just minutes before. And prayed that it would work.
Quatre watched as mobile suits filed out of the battleship, taking a defensive positions outside her. Communications between the battleships had revealed they were all on high alert. He could tell from the voices in the transmissions he'd intercepted that tensions were high and nerves were on edge. Romefeller was expecting some sort of encounter, they just weren't sure what or when. He radioed Trowa, confirming what he suspected, the mobile suits from the L3 battleship were taking position as well.
"Quatre" he heard Trowa's voice in his earpiece, "stay alert and keep your eyes on the mobile suits, someone is bound to get a nervous trigger finger."
"I know," the blond answered, "I will be careful."
"And don't hesitate to fire on them when you have to, don't give them a chance because they're not going to give you one... shoot to kill."
"I will," Quatre vowed in a still, small voice, "I - I promise."
Trowa could feel a lump grow in his throat. That still, small voice hid a mountain of regret.
"This way to your table, sir," the Le Compte's maitre'd sniffed officiously. A hint of a snicker crossed his lips as he led Treize to one of their small, private dining rooms. The Le Compte was well known as the restaurant of choice by those in the know who wished to keep their clandestine trysts secret.
He had seen the newscasts earlier and recognized the man who walked behind him, as well as the one that had arrived earlier. It was most interesting that the leader of White Fang and a Romefeller Council member were 'dining' together this evening.
Oh, the money he could make if he were a larcenous man.
"Through this door, sir," the maitre'd gestured and Treize entered.
"Just pull the bell cord whenever you are ready," he smiled as he closed the door.
"01 please report in," the captain of the Holmes's voice crackled over Wing's COM.
"01 reporting in," Heero answered.
"We are being reassigned," the captain informed him, "we are to reposition ourselves to offer backup to the others, should they need it."
"Sounds good," Heero responded.
"We are now transmitting the new coordinates to your navigation computer."
"Receiving the transmission, I'll meet you there... 01 out."
"I'm glad you agreed to meet me," Treize almost jumped at the sound of the voice coming from a corner of the room.
He thought he'd arrived first, since the table was empty. He turned toward the voice and Milliardo was sitting on a small sofa that lined one wall with one arm stretched across the length of it while the other held a glass of wine. His legs were crossed and stretched out on top of a small table that held a bottle of wine and an empty glass.
"Pour yourself some and join me," he invited, pointing toward the bottle of wine.
"You know I only drink red," Treize grinned, he could feel the tension in him ease a little. Zechs looked relaxed.
"And I only drink white," Milliardo smiled.
"We compromise with brandy?" Treize offered.
"It's arriving any minute," Milliardo replied, "so is dinner, and a bottle of red."
Treize sat down next to his ex-comrade and lover, pouring himself a glass of the white, "So why did you ask me here?"
"I think you know all ready, Treize," Milliardo answered, "let's have some wine, dinner and a few glasses of brandy afterward . . . then you're going to level with me."
Milliardo pulled the bell cord, signaling the waiter to serve their meal.
"Where the hell are my damned glasses!" Duke Dermail screamed, then turned to his aide, "I swear... if you forgot to pack them!"
"Your lordship, I distinctly remember packing them in your briefcase, along with your speech," the aide sounded frazzled. Keeping up with the Duke was not easy, even if he was half his age.
"Well then, find my briefcase!"
"Sir... I've looked and looked and it's simply not here!"
"Find it, it has to be here, I need that speech and I need my glasses to read it tomorrow."
"If I might suggest sir, it might not be a bad idea for the ultimatum to come from one of the other Council members, instead of you," Dermail's aide suggested eagerly, "that way the colonists know that Romefeller is serious."
"No, it will have more impact coming from me, I am the head of the Council after all, and my voice is their voice. Now find that briefcase!" Dermail's voice booming loud and deep.
"Yes sir!" //godz what a prick//. The aide got on the phone and called the front desk to report the missing briefcase. With luck, it had just been delivered to the wrong room.
"So, what is it you want to know, Zechs?" Treize finally asked after their second brandy.
Dinner had gone better than they'd expected. Of course that may have had something to do with the three bottles of wine with dinner and the half bottle of brandy afterward that they'd already imbibed.
"I keep telling you not to call me Zechs, call me Milliardo," the former Oz officer slurred ever so slightly, "I deserve to be called by that god awful name."
"You only did what you had to do," Treize hiccupped, "no one, not even your parents could blame you for that."
"My sister does," Milliardo said flatly.
"What does she know? She's a child with romantic ideals. I do know that people do not know what peace is, unless they've experienced war and suffering. What about you Zechs? Why are you with White Fang now?"
"Let's change the subject, please. I didn't ask you here to talk about me. You still haven't told me why you are here, and in that disguise."
"We need way more to drink before I start explaining... but be warned, you're not going to like what I'm about to tell you... and please, wait till I finish before you storm out of here and do something foolish."
"I'm listening..."
Treize poured liberal amounts of brandy in each glass and began to tell Milliardo of Romefeller's plan.
Treize awoke with a start, his mouth felt as dry and parched as a desert while his skin broke out in a cold sweat. A dull thud pounded in his head to the beat of his heart while his stomach churned and roiled.
//I will never mix curried lamb with wine and brandy again//.
He groaned from the pain in his head as he rose to a sitting position. Then it hit him. This was not his hotel room.
He jerked his head toward the moans coming from the other side of the bed and immediately regretted it as the pounding thuds became worse.
"What am I doing in your bed?" he asked the mass of silvery blond hair that began to raise from the pillow.
"I don't know... the last thing I remember is paying the cheque," Milliardo rasped, "I need a glass of water," he uncovered himself to get out of bed and quickly threw the covers back on. He was naked underneath.
"Zechs... I..."
"Don't say it, Treize, I think we can figure out what happened, and it was a mistake."
Treize began to speak but the telephone rang and interrupted him. Milliardo held his hand up, essential telling him to be quiet as he answered. Treize took the opportunity to slip out of the bed, gather his clothes and head for the bathroom. He returned fully dressed a few minutes later as Milliardo was hanging up the phone, his face was full of worry and anger.
"What's wrong?" Treize asked.
"They've detected what seems to be a battle in space, near L3. Seems like someone has gotten impatient. I'm getting dressed and we're going to find out what's going on. My offer from last night still stands. White Fang has mobile suits of it's own."
"Oz accepts your offer of help, and thank you Zechs."
"This really is more our fight than yours, you know," Milliardo finished slipping into the sweater and jeans he'd worn the night before and sat on the bed to put on his boots.
"Yes, I guess it is. I'm sorry I haven't told you until now," Treize said apologetically.
'Understandable, we're not exactly on friendly terms, now are we?" there was an aloofness to Milliardo's voice. As if he was trying to distance himself from Treize and what had transpired earlier in the night.
"We seem to have been pretty friendly just a few hours ago," Treize smirked as he walked around the bed and stood in front of the blond man.
"That was a fluke because we'd had too much to drink. It will not happen again," a cold determination emanated from the icy blue of his eyes as he rose from the bed and stood face to face with the Oz leader.
"You're wrong," Treize answered. He seized Milliardo in his arms and pressed his mouth tightly to the younger man's as his tongue forced its way between his lips.
Milliardo returned Treize's kiss with a hunger and need he thought he had turned to loathing. And he hated himself for his weakness.
TBC
End of Act 16
KwyckSylver
Please send comments to: kwycksylver@yahoo.com