24 Aug 2000
Category: Angst/romance
Pairings: 2+R
Disclaimers: I don't own these delightful people (Sunrise and the
Sotsu Agency do, and Bandai has a license to pass them around), nor
do I intend to infringe upon the rights of their owners.
Rating: R
Warnings: Sap (soulful staring); violence.
Feedback: Always welcome!
<> denotes thoughts.
He looked up from the plans for a strategic perimeter defense array to see her in the side garden, bending over a clump of lilies with the head gardener. The elderly man gestured at the flowers, and then they both bent intently over the graceful blooms. For a moment, Duo lost himself in watching them, watching her. The sunlight loves her hair, he thought, following the light as it spilled over the answering gold of her smoothly-gathered coil of braids. Her face was open, laughing, as she and the gardener rose to move to the next bed. Not much of the Queen of the World in that laugh, and even less of the frozen misery she had been carrying when Duo first came to live in this unusual household.
How many princesses actually look forward to grubbing around with the groundskeepers, anyway? While he was considering this, watching them, the old man stumbled over a rough patch of ground. Relena steadied him, tucking his arm through hers as they walked on together. His wrinkled hand patted her smooth one, and stayed there.
<We all lean on her strength like that,> Duo mused. <At least that guy actually gives something back.> Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the plans. He had been able to make some substantial changes in the year and a half since he had taken up the monumental task of revamping her security, but there were still too many gaps. It wouldn't take much for her to be a sitting duck, even here.
He was afraid he was being paranoid, but he turned out to be more right than he knew.
Only two days later, Relena was lugging a pile of file folders (the research staff's report on North American disarmament, Volumes 50-55) from the large audience chamber to her office when shots rang out in the corridor. Dropping the folders and heading for a security comstation, she was brought up short by one of the intruders--and his pistol, which was pressed hard and cold against her temple. He pushed her into her office, eyes darting unnaturally from side to side.
"Don't move, little Peacecraft," he hissed. "There's no one to call, nowhere to run." His giggle spiralled upward in pitch, cracking on a high note of insane glee. "You'll pay, oh, now you'll pay. Little princess, you'll finally pay for everything you did to my country...."
"Wh-who are you? What country? Please--"
"Oh, have there been so many?" Another insane cackle. "Sank, my princess, my queen. And all her sons. Gone. While you sit here in your tower..."
Another suited figure rounded the corner, semiautomatic ready. "Lars, no! We said--you said we were just here to shake things up, get some publicity! No one's supposed to get hurt! Those men, those guards in the hallway--did you have to kill everyone on this floor?" he sounded young, probably idealistic, and scared to death.
Relena closed her eyes, reeling at his words. 'Those men in the hallway.' Duo. It was very hard to breathe.
The younger man continued to plead with his comrade, but the older gunman just shook his head. Whistling tunelessly, he began to flip the safety of his gun on and off, right next to her ear.
<All right, Relena. You're trained to talk. So talk. Nothing to lose.>
"I understand what you're saying," she began, trying to hold her voice steady. "It must have pained you greatly when I had to dissolve the kingdom."
His whistling paused, then began again.
"But is more loss, more pain really the way you want to fix this? Even if you kill me, you won't get to be a martyr for our lost country. Your family will lose you--and for what? I don't matter enough any more to be worth this kind of sacrifice."
The younger man had set down his rifle, and was watching her earnestly. "Lars, please. Can't we go home? Please."
Relena seized on this opening. "Yes, Lars. Why don't you let it end? Let that be your legacy--let it go. Take the young one home."
The muzzle had wavered, dropping from her temple; but at her last words, it snapped back into place. Safety off. Trigger partially depressed. "The young ones are all dead, princess, all dead."
Relena swallowed. <Duo, I'm sorry. Heero...>
And then the room erupted into activity, as a black-clad figure vaulted from the balcony door. The gunman whipped around, but was unable to take aim before a booted foot connected with his neck, felling him instantly. The younger man promptly passed out, his clothing sliding audibly against the wall on his way to the floor.
Duo bent over him, turning his arm until a shoulder patch caught the light. "White Lions. Heard of these guys--rabid Sank nationalists."
Other guards had arrived by then, efficiently snapping handcuffs on both intruders. "This should be the last of them, sir." Duo nodded, dismissing them, then finally turned to where she stood.
Her face was totally white, but might have appeared composed if her hands hadn't been locked on the edge of her desk, if her eyes hadn't been blank with shock. She jerked involuntarily when he laid his hand on her arm, then turned to bury her face in his shoulder. He held on tight with one arm around her back, stroking her hair with his free hand. She gulped down the sobs that threatened to tear through her, concentrating on his soothing nonsense words of comfort and the protectiveness of the arms that held her close. She let the tears come, weeping helplessly, hands curving into fists against his chest.
He felt her relax into him, and determinedly scuttled his own impulse to crush her even closer. Just holding on, he leaned his cheek against her hair until at last the racking sobs subsided. She drew a shaky breath, lifting her tear-wet face. "I'm sorry. It's just shock, and--"
He nodded. "They never should've gotten past us. We lost six good people on this level alone--" he broke off, as her face threatened to crumple again. "But you almost talked them down. I've never seen anything like that."
She winced. "Six people. Six more dead because of me. And I--" She wrenched away from him, wrapping both arms around her middle as if to hold everything inside herself.
"What? There's no use thinking like that. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for not making sure they were ready."
She was murmuring something, shaking her head.
"Tell me." He lifted a tendril of hair out of her eyes, turning her face to him.
She wouldn't open her eyes, and her words came in a clumsy rush. "I thought--they said they'd shot--the whole floor--I thought you were--"
"Oh, Lena. Lena. I'm all right. I'm right here. See?" He took her hand between both of his, laying her fingers against his face.
From the moment the alarms had begun to sound, he had put aside all thoughts not directly related to locating and disarming the threat-- but when he had seen her calmly standing with death taking aim at her head, he had known that he couldn't divorce emotion from purpose. Not where she was concerned--maybe not ever again.
Weeping again, soundlessly but with eyes wide, she drew her fingertips along the curve of his face, tracing the line of his jaw. He looked back at her, holding her together with his gaze, and she lost herself in the unconscious beauty of those eyes. Everything she had almost lost was there, and in spite of her grief she smiled up at him before pulling him down for an achingly brief kiss.
He drew back, questioningly. <Not herself--shaken up. She'd never do this if she wasn't...> But her lips were on his again, salty from her tears, but still sweet, moving slowly but insistently. He tried again for rational thought, then gave up and slid his hands into her hair, reveling in the way she melted into him. No reason to think, to stop, not when she needed him. Not when he needed her so much. Her arms slid up, her shaking hands going around his neck. His world was slowly dissolving into heat, his body leaping to meet hers.
But this--what was happening now was not good for either of them. With a groan of returning conscience, he pulled her hands away, clasping them together. Leaning his forehead against hers, he managed words. "Not like this, Lena. You're not even--not like this. Please, Lena."
They stood for a long moment, regaining breath and balance, before she stepped carefully away, gathering up the pieces of a vase that had been knocked off her desk in the struggle. She was still shivering, but shock seemed to be easing its grip.
"Let's get you back to your room," he suggested. "I can handle things down here for a little while, and Nina can stay with you till we get everything locked down, if you want."
She nodded, continuing to pull herself together. "Go ahead. I'm all right, really. Just send Nina up. Have someone bring me the files on the people we lost. Their families should hear about this from me."
"I will." He couldn't go yet. Not without making sure she understood. "Lena, you know that I--that I only stopped you because--"
"I know. That's two rescues in one night--thank you."
"Only returning the favor." It was a start.
End of Part 3.
(:./lilias/complicated3)
