Setting: Just after the AC-195 war. Possibly AU, but it’s worked in so it doesn’t warp the TV storyline.

Pairings: 3x4, 1+2, Kreigan+5, 13x6

Rating: NC-17 eventually, but this is a softer chapter.

Warnings: Violence, possible OOC? lemon, angst. No NCS - you’ll see why I had to point that out. Several OCs but they don’t necessarily play a big part.

Disclaimers: The only characters here that I own are any alter egos, Kazimiriel, Machiavel, Sarrow and Malvad and a few other characters that’ll pop up. Characters I don’t own include: Heero, Duo, Trowa, Quatre, Wufei, Zechs, Treize and any other good ones in fact.

Also, I would like to note that I am not Christian - anybody that wants to know why can pick one of two courses of action, either accept the fact that I’m a Mahayanist or email me and prepare for a very complex credo - and I’d like to add that this is just a story. If anything in it offends anyone, I apologize very sincerely.

Rough Peace - Part 5

Zechs smiled complacently and walked over to sit in front of Machiavel’s desk, “I just wondered if there was some work I could be doing. I know how difficult it is for you to find time to yourself.”

The prince smirked and walked over to his subordinate, brushing a hand over his face, “What makes you think I *want* time to myself when I have someone like you working for me?” he whispered in his ear.

The blond raised an eyebrow. “I’m touched, Machiavel,” Zechs crooned, “But then, you’ve always enjoyed working with me, haven’t you?”

“Aren’t we the smug one today?” the prince remarked with a laugh, letting go of his assistant and sitting back at his desk. “Although, I won’t deny, we do work well together,” he continued as Zechs sat provocatively on his desk. “The charade we developed for the humans was incredible. That beam cannon was a stroke of genius, Zechs. I couldn’t have done it better myself, you managed to convincingly split from me and wreak total havoc at the same time.”

Zechs’ face turned sour, “And now you’re leaving me to do all the dirty work, because everybody thinks *Treize Khushrenada* is dead, don’t they?”

Machiavel shrugged, “You have to admit, though. A dead man isn’t going to hold much sway in the human world. Besides,” he continued, standing up in front of Zechs and running his hands through his long blond hair, “I thought you liked the extra responsibilities. You really make a remarkable human being.”

“So did you. You always managed to get the most out of their primitive bodies at least,” Zechs sniggered and kissed Machiavel’s hand as it ran across his lips. “Look, if you don’t want me *now* I’ll go and get some real work done. Kreigan should be getting back soon with a report on just how messed up Renfredriel and his friends are.”

“They had it coming to them.” The prince smiled again and drew Zechs in for an aggressive kiss, burying his hands in his hair as the blond demon kissed him back and pulled himself up against his lover. Zechs gasped for breath when Machiavel drew away. “Fucking hell, you’re good at that,” he commented as the prince let go of him. Zechs ran his fingers through his hair to brush out the tangles and began to walk away. “I’ll just come back again tonight then… *Treize*.”

Prince Machiavel raised an eyebrow as Zechs walked off again. “There is so much wrong with this relationship, I don’t even know where to begin,” he laughed to himself. ‘I’m glad Kreigan’s working this well with his assignment. It’s so refreshing to see divine bodies suffer… although as much as Renfredriel has been forced to play my enemy on separate occasions… it sickens me that I can’t help but love him.’

At about ten o’clock that evening, when several matters had been cleared up and the conversation between the five pilots had been going on for around two hours, Duo frowned for about the fifth time at the Altron pilot who was sat across the table from him. “What did you say that guy was called again?” he asked, to the look of impending doom on Quatre’s face.

Wufei shook his head, “Kreigan. Why is that important?” he asked the braided boy who seemed to be sat unnecessarily close to Heero. Strangely enough, the Wing Zero pilot didn’t seem to be objecting. In fact, he was encouraging it. And very obviously encouraging it at that.

Quatre bit his lip, “That is important on *so* many levels,” he said enthusiastically. “So he just appeared in front of you and told you to talk to me? …I must’ve committed more crimes than I was aware of. Why does Emmanuel have to make these things so complicated?”

Trowa tapped his boyfriend on the shoulder, “You did it again.”

“Oh, sorry,” Quatre mumbled. “Emmanuel is the head of Sanhedrin,” he began to explain to the four of them sat around the table with him. “He’s the one who makes all the laws over Niravaana work. Ironing out loopholes and such. He’s abused his power on numerous occasions but the higher ranks seem to be blind to it. And I know *I’m* not about to step forward and risk being cast into Lymbo.”

The other four pilots all frowned in unison, Heero and Wufei feeling especially confused at the remarks the little Sandrock pilot was making so lightly.

“Quatre…” Wufei began quietly, “this Kreigan, he’s a demon, right?”

“That’s right.”

The Altron pilot felt the anxiety swell up inside him as he remembered the intimate contact he’d had with Kreigan a few hours earlier. “Do demons have… emotions? Can they feel love and happiness?”

Quatre nodded, “Of course they can. Any human-based embodiments can feel love. Humans, angels, demons all feel every emotion. Obviously to greater or lesser extents but they still feel them.”

Wufei decided he’d keep quiet for now. Having felt a sexual attraction to nothing less than a demon was something he wasn’t about to admit to all of his fellow pilots. He was sure it was wrong. Why he was so sure it was immoral was something he didn’t care to speculate over, he knew it was and that was that.

“Which is more of a comfortable form for you, Quatre?” Heero asked, speaking up for the first time in roughly thirty minutes. “Wouldn’t you rather stay as an angel instead of walking around like that?”

“Well… yes, but I hardly think it’s appropriate, do you?” Quatre replied, “I mean… wouldn’t it make you all uncomfortable if I just decided to walk around with wings all the time?”

Heero and Wufei shook their heads. “You’re kiddin’ right?” Duo exclaimed, “Aside from the fact that this is *so* unbelievably cool, you’re our friend Quatre. You know we’d accept you for whoever and whatever you are. Right Trowa?”

Trowa smiled as Quatre turned to him with a questioning look. He kissed his lover on the forehead, “Right. If it makes you feel better about yourself then who are we to say no?”

Quatre smiled as Heero got to his feet. “Listen,” he began sleepily, “you can decide to do whatever you want, but I’m pretty tired right now, so I’m gonna turn in for the night.” The Perfect Soldier hesitated for a while and looked at Duo, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding his gaze, before actually going upstairs.

The braided boy stared after Heero for a few moments and then got up himself. “Actually, I’m quite tired too,” he said quickly, “I’ll see ya in the morning guys, g’night!” He added, walking a little quicker than usual upstairs after the Wing Zero pilot.

Trowa and Quatre followed, hand-in-hand, soon after and left Wufei to muse over his encounter with Quatre’s nemesis. He sighed and dropped further back onto the sofa, trying to calm himself with the fact that there were several reasons for the demon to kiss him. The first, and thankfully most probable, of which was that Kreigan had just been trying to shock him.

‘He did that pretty well,’ Wufei thought disdainfully, running his fingers apprehensively through his unbound hair. ‘But there was that comment about my looks… what was it? Such a beautiful face?’ He ran the phrase over in his mind, if Kreigan had simply been psyching him out, there would have been no need to make a remark like that.

“I can*not* be in love with a man I just met!” he exclaimed quietly to himself. “A demon no less! It’s just not… just not *right*!” †

Upstairs, Duo sat uncomfortably on the edge of his bed, waiting for Heero to finish up in the bathroom. The suspense was driving him crazy. ‘Man, does he always take this long?’ The idea of proposing that the two of them sleep in the same bed was something Duo had been wanting the excuse to ask for so long. But now that the time had come, a myriad of worst-case scenarios drifted into his mind.

He jumped up suddenly as Heero walked back into the room and smiled nervously. Duo smiled back and stepped forward to hug his new lover. The Japanese boy returned the hug and rested his head contentedly on Duo’s shoulder.

Heero gulped and took a deep breath. “Duo, if this is too forward, just tell me. But… I was wondering if you’d like to sleep with me tonight- aah! I mean, share a bed,” he quickly corrected himself and cringed deeply.

Duo laughed and kissed Heero on the cheek. “You’re readin’ my mind… I’d love to,” he said with a grin as the Wing pilot sat him down on the bed. The braided boy lay down as Heero switched off the light and left them in the warm glow of the bedside lamp.

“I warn ya Heero,” Duo began as the Japanese boy slipped into bed, “I move around a lot in my sleep so just elbow me I squash you or something.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just have to find a way to keep you still,” Heero suggested, wrapping his arms tightly around the braided boy and pulling him up on top of him.

Duo grinned and snuggled into Heero’s chest. “Oh yeah, I think that’ll keep me still.”

--

//Is this for real?

…I think so. All the signs are there.

What’s happening?

This must be what we were warned about.

We need help.

It’s going to take a miracle to stop this…//

Quatre snapped out of his daze as the cold water from the faucet ran over his hand. He looked into the mirror with a wide-eyed unease and frowned. “What was that all about?” he whispered to himself, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

The voices in his head had been so vivid and he could have sworn blind he could hear his brother’s voice. ‘Perhaps I’m just tired’ he reasoned, shaking his head, ‘if something like that was really going on, I would have been taken back home by now. Unless there’s some kind of rift… but that’s near impossible these days. I shouldn’t voice this now, but if I have any more trouble I’ll talk to Trowa.’

He shook his head vigorously and went back to their room. Trowa stood before him and hugged him tightly, “How’s your wing doing?”

Quatre shrugged, “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen it in a while. Can I check it?”

Trowa laughed, “Sweetheart, you don’t need my permission to do anything,” he said softly, kissing Quatre on the cheek. “Go ahead.”

Once Quatre had switched back to his primary form, Trowa gasped and stared at the damaged spot on his wing, “Quatre, your wing’s gone blue!”

The angel stretched his injured limb out and winced, “I’m not surprised,” he remarked, running his hand along and removed the bandage. “Don’t worry, it’s just the color of bruising. It’ll probably been gone in a few weeks.”

Trowa sighed with relief. “I’m amazed there’s so much I don’t know about you,” he said, almost sadly, “but I guess we’ve got plenty of time together for me to learn, right?”

“Right,” Quatre said, hugging his lover and instinctively wrapping his wings around them both, “Let’s get some sleep. I can fill you in on the rest when you’re more awake.”

--

“You shouldn’t be letting yourself get involved with a human!”

Kreigan rolled his eyes and sighed. “Read my lips: I. Don’t. Care.” He snapped, rounding menacingly on his disagreeable friend Sarrow. “If I gave a damn about your opinion, I’d ask for it, wouldn’t I?”

Sarrow hesitated, “Well… yes but… look, I’m not trying to drag you down,” he persisted, running after the demon who left the room and went outside into the gardens. “It’s just advice. It’s heart-breaking if they don’t reciprocate, believe me, I’ve been there.”

“That was an angel, not a human,” Kreigan retorted. “Two completely different things.”

The shorter demon sighed, “I know. But there’s such a stigma attached to being a demon that it’s near impossible to love and be loved by anyone outside your own race. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but this Wufei - as nice as he sounds - is probably just as out of your reach as anybody else.”

Kreigan whipped around to glare at the little brunette with a white-hot intensity. Sarrow backed away slightly until his friend’s expression softened. “Sarrow… you think I don’t *know* that?” Kreigan said sadly. “There’s never been any harm in trying.”

Sarrow smiled slightly and nodded, “If you’re serious about this, you should try talking to Zechs. I know he knew Wufei during the war… so did Machiavel, but good luck trying to talk to *him*.”

Kreigan laughed and dusted off his scruffy blond hair before shaking his head. “You’re a good friend, Sarrow. I know how much it hurt to be rejected by Renfredriel so this can’t be easy to talk about.” He felt a twinge in his gut at the expression on his friend’s face. “You’re too good to be down here,” he commented, ruffling the brunette’s hair.

“Thanks,” Sarrow replied gratefully, “you should go give Zechs your report before he comes looking for you- ah, too late,” he added as said demon walked around the side of the building.

Zechs pursed his lips and stared at Kreigan. “Never, not *once* since I’ve known you can I remember you not being late for something,” he remarked sourly. “You-” he said pointing at Sarrow “-get the hell out of here and let me talk to Kreigan.”

“Y- yessir,” Sarrow stammered and hurried away to his rooms.

Kreigan stood to attention and gave his full report on his work over the last two days, omitting the details of his encounter with Wufei, and Zechs seemed satisfied. “Good, you’re doing well,” the blond said earnestly. “Prince Machiavel’s going to be pleased.”

“That’s great!” Kreigan enthused, smiling enthusiastically in an attempt to lift Zech’s mood. “Since I’m doing so well and all,” he continued awkwardly, “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

TBC…

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