The Jasmine and the Pine

Chapter Two

By Destiny

Triniti had been on the cramped ship for close to a week now, and had barely begun to put a scratch in her work. But it wasn't because she couldn't come up with ideas. She had plenty of ideas and more than enough time to sketch, but she didn't like being used the way she was. Her ideas and designs weren't supposed to bring war. They were just a harmless, creative outlet. That is, until her sketches had fallen into the wrong hands of the Barton Foundation and OZ. Sighing in frustration, she threw down her pencil and sat back in the high swivel chair taking off her glasses as she did.

"Inspirational problems, Miss Barton?"

Triniti turned around to see Kegan walking towards her. "Yes," she responded, even though it was far from the truth. She didn't trust anyone, especial those who were nice to her.

"Well, that is the down-side to genius. You can't force it," he said, coming to look at her sketches.

"This is true."

"Well, these are good. They look like the traditional mobile dolls, though," he commented.

"Why vary from something that works and has lasted this long."

"Because," Javin spoke up from the doorway, "I want something that will surpass the tradition. Those have lasted too long."

"Do you have pilots yet for these new suits?" Triniti asked changing the subject.

"That is the reason why I came to talk to you," Javin said, stepping into the room. "I'm leaving for a while to round-up the next batch of pilots from the colonies. I must take an extended leave of absence from you, my dear. I do hope you understand."

"Of course," Triniti replied, trying not to sound grateful that he was leaving.

"I'll be leaving Dr. Kegan in charge while I'm gone. And I expect the sketches to be done by the time I get back."

"Where do you propose building these machines?" she asked him.

"There is a base that has been very quietly rebuilt," Javin answered with a smirk.

"I see," Triniti nodded, turning back around in her chair and picking up her pencil to finish the sketch.

Javin and Kegan exchanged glances, not exactly sure how to handle their dismissal. Javin set his jaw and reached behind him. Triniti heard the thud of the door as it slammed shut. Silently, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I'm in for it now.

Kegan took his stance as guardian of the closed door while Javin approached the turned back of the engineer. A shiver ran through Triniti as the commander grabbed her shoulder to force her chair around to face him. His face was blank, but a deadly fury filled every word.

"Miss Barton, may I remind you that you are no longer a free woman. I have you here for a purpose, and until that is accomplished, I have no intention of allowing you to leave. I admire your independent, almost defiant, spirit. In fact, I am pleased to find it so strong. But there are consequences to possessing such a spirit. I must warn you that you may go too far. There is a thin line between independence and insubordination. I will not tolerate insubordination! I believe it goes without being said that I can make your life miserable if need be. And before you have an illusions of heroic sacrifices, I must inform you that I will make your suffering excruciating. Now, I believe we understand one another completely. Good night, my wonder engineer."

With a mock bow, Javin turned toward the door. As soon as the door shut behind him, Triniti’s pencil hit the sketch pad once more, but she stared out the window, not at her pad. She knew deep down she had to hold out for something. But she wasn't sure for what. She did know, however, that her time was quickly running out.

Triniti stretched as she stood up from her drafting board. This had been another fruitless morning! If this kept up, Javin would no longer think that genius could ever get started; he would doubt she even had any genius. Maybe that isn’t such a bad thought after all! Only he would make her life miserable then.

She knew she needed a break, but it was nowhere near time for a meal or to end the day. Putting her glasses on the desk, Triniti decided on taking a walk, With Javin gone, there was nothing to stop her from exploring the base. The shuttle transport had landed here two days ago--never had she been so glad to get out of those cramped quarters! Construction of her new designs were to begin the first of next week as techs and other personnel were still arriving.

Quickly, the engineer opted to review the lab and other areas that would concern her the most. Besides, she was already well-acquainted with the cafeteria, her small office next to the control room, and her tiny, but personal sleeping quarters.

After wandering through several hallways of labeled and locked offices, Triniti came to the engineering wing. The first room she encountered was the lab. It was deserted, so she pushed through the double doors. As the lights warmed to full strength, she could not help admiring the setup. Near the entrance sat a desk with a lamp and filing cabinet nearby. Other than that, the lab space as empty. Here and there shelves and cabinets adorned the stark white walls; these objects designated workstations. The hollow silence pressed around her as Triniti ventured into the center of the room. Looking up, she saw the metallic beams of the roof so high that they appeared to be only thin slats. Nodding with approval, Triniti noted that a mobile suit could easily stand upright in this lab.

Proceeding down the walkway, she peered into several well-stocked supply rooms and lounge areas. In the same wing were several other labs for repairing shuttles, computers, or comm systems. These all had white-coated techs at work, so Triniti only glanced in from the doorways. Soon she abandoned this wing for a similar one that housed the in-coming techs and army recruits. As she turned to leave, the opening to the hallway was filled by a formation of marching men in the Chiasmus uniform. Triniti stepped closer to the wall and continued on her way. When she passed one of the columns, a low whistle sounded followed by several muffled snickers. She tried to suppress the blush she felt warming her cheeks. I knew I should have worn a jumpsuit and pulled back my hair! The khaki skirt and dark green blouse that Javin insisted she wear when not working on the mechs did not make her inconspicuous in the wing housing male recruits.

"Halt!" barked the commanding officer as he approached Triniti. "All right, you men, let’s show some respect for the leading engineer here! Any more outbursts like that, and everyone of you will have reason to wish you were back in basic training!"

Quickly, the lines of green uniforms snapped to attention.

"Thank you, sir. I do apologize for the disturbance I have caused," Triniti nodded as she addressed the officer.

"Yes, ma’am. Good day."

Triniti turned and glanced over her shoulder at the files of men, then hurried out of the wing. She fervently hoped that her techs were less brazen, but it was nice to know that she had definitely been noticed.

Her last excursion for the day led her to the cargo bay. The huge area was alive with a rucas of shouts, engines, and metallic clanging. Triniti could only take the din for a few minutes, but that gave her time enough to assess the general lay of things. The holds that lined half of the bay held lifeless mobile suits that the recruits were to pilot. The empty holds awaited her creations that were to supplement Javin’s forces. Those vacant spaces forced her to reluctantly return to her designs. Javin expected satisfaction, so she had to accommodate him.

Trowa stepped out of the airlock and was promptly met by a brown-haired doctor in a white lab coat.

"Ah, you must be the technician that I spoke with a few days ago. Mr. Triton Bloom, am I correct?" Kegan greeted.

"Yes, I am," Trowa responded, extending his hand to the doctor.

"I must apologize for Mr. Lowe not being here to actually greet you, but I'm sure you understand his absence."

"I do."

"Good. Now I have some matters to attend to due to Mr. Lowe's absence, so I've assigned someone else to show you around the ship," Kegan explained.

Trowa nodded his head as he followed the doctor to a set of doors. Kegan opened them and ushered Trowa inside a neat, sparse office. Trowa fought down any form of emotion or response that threatened to well up on his face when he caught sight the blond woman hunched over the sketch board.

"Miss Barton?" Kegan said. Triniti looked up from her sketch and took notice of the two men standing before her. Trowa studied her face intently to see if he could make out any emotion whatsoever. Time had matured her, as it had done the same to him. Her hair still hung below her shoulders and hadn't lost its curl. She was even more beautiful than when he last saw her. But he noticed the light of recognition in her eyes slowly became iced-over with the venom of nursed hurt. Obviously, she did not want him here.

"Triniti, this is Triton Bloom, our new tech that I've hired to help you with whatever you may need for your project. I was wondering if you could show him around the ship."

Triniti continued to stare at Trowa with unmasked annoyance. "I don't need a tech," she bluntly stated.

Kegan looked slightly taken aback by what she said. "But I thought it would make things go faster for you."

"You said yourself, Dr. Kegan, you can't rush genius. I do not need any help, thank you," she replied icily, before turning around in her chair and picking up your pencil.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bloom. She's not normally like this," Kegan whispered in explanation.

Trowa held up a hand, "It's alright. Go about your business. I'll find my own way around."

Kegan looked from the hard-working woman to the quiet, intense man before him. "Thank you." was all Kegan could come up with.

Trowa nodded his head silently as the doctor left. Trowa stood behind Triniti, silent as ever, waiting for her to respond to his presence.

"I know you haven't left," she said. "I can see your reflection in the window."

"I know."

"Why are you here?" she demanded, turning around to face him.

"I came to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine. You can leave now."

"I want you to come with me."

"Why?" she laughed a short, bitter laugh that made his blood run colder than it already was. "Do you honestly think that six years of isolation gives you the forgiveness for what you did to me?"

"And what did I do to you, Triniti?" he asked sadly.

"You took my heart and threw it away."

"I never threw it away. You still have mine."

"You never gave me your heart," she spat. "You were too busy guarding it."

"That's not true."

Triniti desperately searched for a response but could come up with none. "Go away," she finally said before turning around to return to her work.

"Triniti,"

"Leave me alone."

The venom in her voice was enough to stop any other kind of protests from him. He silently turned around and left the room, the pain in his chest almost too hurtful to bear.

Triniti watched his reflection leave. Despite all the anger and frustration she felt with his presence, something deep down still cried out to him. He was the thing that she had to hold on for, and she had held on. So what would stop her from holding on even longer and possibly finding a solution herself? Frustrated with Triton, her feelings, and the whole situation, she turned her attention to her sketch once more. She drew two lines before a drop of moisture landed on the page. Surprised, she looked up at the window at her reflection. Her face was tear-streaked. Even more frustrated with herself now, she threw her pencil down and went over to the couch and flopped down. Why was he here? What could he possible want? Was he a spy once more or are his motive purely for her safety? How could he even think that she would still love him after six long years of silence? Finally giving everything up, she broke down and sobbed, laying down on the couch.

Trowa stood outside the door and listened to the frustrated sighs that issued from Triniti’s office. When he didn't hear anything else, he turned to leave, but a soft sound stopped him from going too far. It was almost inaudible, but once he heard it again, he knew exactly what she was doing. She was crying. This was not his intent in finding her; he wanted to save her from the clutches of the enemy, just as he should have that December long ago. And no matter what she said now or how she felt, he was not going to leave her. Not this time. He fought the urge to rush into the room, gather her in his arms and let her know that everything was going to be fine; that he would protect her. But he knew right now, she would only push him away and distance herself even more. He just had to wait until she realized he still loved her, and maybe, there was still a spark left where she still loved him.

Triniti pushed her food around on her plate, not wanting to eat it, while her mind wandered elsewhere. The noises in the galley faded into a background buzz as her thoughts drifted back to six years ago when she was with Marimaia's army. Everything seemed possible back then. In the short time that she had allowed herself to fall in love with Triton, there had been no war, no death or destruction. Everything had seemed to fade into the background, and what had only ever mattered was him. That was the only time in her life that she had ever, truly and honestly, felt alive. Even during the shock of a new war and all the terrible consequences of it, their love had remained the one constant in her life. All that had abruptly ended when he left, declaring he was not in support of Marimaia or her cause. Her whole world had crashed down around her, leaving her hurt, angry and bitter as he calmly walked away, his face as stoic as usual. The familiar bitterness towards him welled up, and Triniti dropped her fork loudly on her tray.

"Is the food really that bad?"

Triniti looked up, slightly startled at the quiet voice. Triton stood next her, tray in hand.

"No," she answered shortly.

"May I sit with you?"

Triniti looked around the cafeteria. She had chosen the only quiet side, away from the loud, obnoxious pilots and techs. She enjoyed her solitude and preferred to keep it herself. However, she couldn't come up with any good reason to say no to him.

"Go ahead," she said, looking back down at her plate.

Trowa quietly sat down next to her and started eating, remaining silent. He knew she didn't want him there, but until she actually voiced those feelings, he would attempt to push his luck.

"Why are you here?" she asked him.

Trowa looked around the room. "Because I wanted a quiet place to sit."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she responded harshly. "Why are you on this ship? Are you going to kill Javin? Or maybe it's Dr. Kegan this time?"

"I told you why I came."

"I think you just told me what you thought I wanted to hear."

"If I told you what you wanted to hear, I have the distinct feeling that concern for your safety would not be included."

Triniti went to say something else, but couldn't figure out how to counter his remark. Instead she reverted back to her annoyed silence. Trowa continued to eat, mentally kicking himself for his comment. He had come to help her, and some how make up for the past, not exchange rude jibes.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked, slightly confused by what he said.

"For what I just said now. It was uncalled for," he told her, getting up from the table. "And I am sorry."

Before Triniti could react, he left just as quickly as he came. She sat there for a few moments more and wondered how she would have answered him. What was she going to say to him, "Oh, it's alright because you already shattered my heart beyond repair, what's a few harsh words going to do to me?"

Triniti shook her head and rested it on her hand. Then, another thought crossed her mind.

What if he feels that way?

Trowa paced around his room, flute in hand. He had to do something to get his mind off of things. He was beginning to believe that Triniti's bitterness just might win out over her love. That is, if in fact, she still loved him, which he was starting to seriously doubt. And she had rejected him,...no, he couldn't let himself think that. How could he possibly believe that she would still love him after six years?

Suddenly, he stopped his frantic walking and stood still. He had held onto his love for her all this time. It wasn't an impossibility. Trowa threw himself down in the nearest chair and let out a sigh of frustration. She had changed so much from the kind, loving person she had been when he had fallen for her. It had appeared that all her warm traits she had carefully buried under cold-hearted bitterness. And it left Trowa wondering if the person her knew six years ago could be recovered. Standing up once again, he lifted the flute to his lips and began to play what he felt.

Triniti wandered through the hall, not ready to go back to her sketch board. Her thoughts were not on the new mechs. No matter how much she convinced herself she didn't want Triton here, she could not deny the feeling of safety that he had provided. She had lived alone most of her life and knew how to protect herself, but with Triton here, it was like a large burden of worry and stress had been lifted. So why did she want all that extraneous worry back? Because, she told herself, you trusted your protection to him once before and lost your heart because of it.

The familiar feeling of resentment surfaced again; Triniti willingly embraced it. Triton shouldn't have come. Did he honestly think that he could go years without one bit of communication and then just show up and have her leave with him as if nothing was wrong? Triniti felt an angry flush come over her face.

How dare he treat me like something that could just be picked up whenever he was ready!

As she wandered through the corridors, music drifted into her ears. She walked down the hallway and stood in front of the door where the music was coming from. It was Triton's room. She felt her previous anger and frustration melt away as she listened to the mournful music. Had she really affected him that deeply? The only way she could have is if he really did love her still. There was such a sorrow in the notes that Triniti found tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Quickly, she pulled out of the embrace of the music and regained her composure as she walked away.

Trowa looked up from his flute and saw a shadow pass under the door. Walking over to it, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. He smiled to himself when he saw Triniti's retreating form. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

Wufei sat down at his computer and called up the Preventer files he had been sent by Colonel Une. He started with the first one and searched for any mention of him, Trowa, or anyone else that might stand out. Mei came up behind him and read a little over his shoulder without him knowing she was there. She watched as he highlighted the name Triniti Barton and did another search. The military file on a girl, no older than fifteen came up on the screen. She had shoulder length, curly blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Her face was angular, but very capable looking.

"Looking for a new wife already?" Mei spoke up, gently teasing her husband.

"Don't be ridiculous woman," Wufei answered, still in deep concentration.

"Who is this?" she asked, reading a little bit of the file. The girl had been the engineer for an extensive list of mobile suits that were used by both OZ and the Barton Foundation.

"Trowa's old girlfriend from way back in Marimaia's Corps," Wufei answered. "I'm willing to bet that this is the person that was kidnapped that he went after."

"How romantic," Mei said seriously.

"Romantic isn't the word I would use," he mummbled. "Idiotic would be more appropriate."

"And if I was kidnapped by some evil madman, you wouldn't come rescue me?"

"I wouldn't let you get kidnapped in the first place."

Mei had to smile at his comment. "Well, thank you, oh, Great Protector. I can now go about my life never fearing capture."

"Hm," was all the response that she got.

"Are you listening to me at all?" Mei asked, hands on her hip.

"What?" he finally said, tearing his eyes from the computer screen.

Mei just sadly shook her head. "That's what I thought."

"Are you going to tell me what you were saying woman?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You should have been listening the first time."

Wufei sat back in chair and propped his head up on his fist, waiting for Mei to tell him. She just returned his even stare. After a few moments, he noticed her thinking really hard.

"You don't remember what you were going to say, do you?" Wufei asked, a smile creeping across his face.

Mei smiled sheepishly back at him. "No, I don't remember."

"This is the friend that was kidnapped," Wufei said, turning back around to his computer. "Or so I think."

"Triniti Barton," Mei read. "She designed Marimaia's Serpents?"

"She sketched out the designs and then gave the blueprints to the techs."

"Do you know her?"

"I talked her briefly from time to time. She seemed nice enough, for someone fighting on the wrong side."

"Do you think that Trowa has been in contact with her over the years?"

Wufei snorted. "If he's tried to contact her, she's probably ignored him. They didn't exactly leave on the best of terms."

"What do you mean?"

"The last time I saw her, she slapped him across the face for not telling her he was a spy."

"So why did he go after her when he knows she still holding a grudge?"

"He loves her, even after six years and a slap in the face," Wufei shook his head.

"Don't you shake your head as if you don't know what love can do to a person," Mei warned jokingly.

"What are you talking about, woman?"

"If I slapped you in the face for something, what would you do?"

"I'd leave."

Mei could tell he was teasing by the small smile that he tried to hide.

"And yet day after day you still put up with this," Mei said, quietly rolling up the newspaper and bopping him on the head with it.

Wufei just closed his eyes when the blow came and calmly went back to his search. "Now see, woman, that's true love."

Triniti walked between the rows of the new mobile suits that were still under construction. Some just looked like tall skeletons that cast eerie shadows across the bay. She ran a hand over one of the feet of her creations and asked herself once again, what was she doing here? Why didn't she allow Triton to take her away from here? No, she shook her head. If she allowed herself to be rescued by him that would be admitting...what? She was weak? She still had to rely on him for protection? If so, what was so wrong with that? Frustration welled up inside of her once again. Looking around to make sure no one was in the hanger, Triniti climbed up onto the foot of the mobile suit and sat back against the leg. No matter how she tried to reason it out in her mind, she was always left with the question, "Do I still love him?" And she was afraid of the answer.

"Are you alright?"

Triniti immediately opened her eyes and looked down startled, by the tech that stood looking up at her. "I'm fine Triton," she answered sharply.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, appearing interested.

"I needed some quiet time," she told him, hopeful that he would get the hint.

"I'm sorry," he responded, turning to walk away.

Triniti watched as he made his way over to another mobile suit and started to tinker with the circuits. Triniti found that she couldn't think with him there. Not because of the noise he was making, which was practically none, but just the fact that he was there. After a few minutes of trying the take her mind off her annoyance and having it not work, she stood up, getting ready to leave.

Trowa caught a brief flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced up. He saw that Triniti was getting down off the foot of the Mobile Suit and chided himself for coming in to work when everyone else had quit for the day. He should have known that she would have been there, inspecting the day's work. Perhaps that's why he went.

Triniti attempted to be graceful and jumped off the foot towards the ground. She tried to land in a crouch, but it quickly gave way to sprawled-out position. On impact, she heard a crack and knew she had most likely broken her ankle. She bit her lip to hide a shout of pain, praying Triton hadn't seen her and decide that he should help her. The last thing she wanted right now was to be faced with one of her biggest mistakes because of a stupid one. Trowa heard the crack across the bay and took off running towards where he had last seen Triniti. He came around the foot of the suit to find Triniti crouched on the floor, holding her leg. He knelt down beside her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," she gasped.

"What did you hurt?" he pressed.

Triniti let out another gasp of pain as she tried to sit up. "I'm fine," she persisted.

"Triniti, you're hurt. What's wrong?"

She could hear the command in his voice and knew she wasn't getting away from him anytime soon. "It's my ankle," she finally relented.

Trowa helped her to sit back against the suit and slipped her shoe off. He carefully checked the break and concluded that it was a clean break. Without any kind of warning, he quickly snapped it back into place. Triniti couldn't even find her voice to scream in pain. All that came out was a whimper as her eyes filled with tears. Trowa sat back and waited till she had regained her composure.

Triniti forced down a sob and closed her eyes. After the initial shock of pain lessened, she felt the feather light touch on her face that wiped a stray tear off her face. As soon as her eyes opened, Triton immediately withdrew his hand from her face.

"I need to get you to the med bay to get your ankle splinted."

Triniti nodded her head and tried to stand up. In one swift movement, Trowa picked her up.

"I can walk," she protested.

"I don't want you to risk hurting your ankle anymore."

"Triton, put me down."

"No," he replied firmly, never slowing his pace.

"I'll scream!" she threatened.

"Go ahead. People will just think you're hurt, that's all. Then, you will have several people carrying you."

Triniti realized that he was right and decided to just put up with him carrying her. But by the time they reached the med bay, Triniti almost regretted having to leave his safe embrace. Dr. Kegan greeted them at the door.

"What happened?" he asked, his face full of concern.

"She broke her ankle," Trowa told him, gently setting Triniti down on one of the examination tables. "It's been set, but it needs to be splinted."

"And how did this happen?" Kegan asked, watching Trowa carefully. Triniti noticed the look and realized that Kegan blamed Triton for her injury.

"I was on the foot of a mobile suit and jumped off. I landed wrong; that’s all," Triniti told him, feeling a new sense of anger rise to the surface. Triton had helped her in his usual quiet gentleness even after everything she had said to him. He may have put her through a lot, but he didn't deserve to be accused of hurting her, physically anyway. Kegan turned and looked at her, as if trying to believe her.

"And how did you find her?" Kegan asked, returning his gaze to Trowa.

"I was working on one of the mobile suits when I heard her fall."

"What does it matter?" Triniti asked frustrated, the throbbing in her ankle not helping her temper any. "Mr. Bloom set it for me and brought me here when he could have easily left me."

"But could he have prevented the injury?"

Triniti was outraged at this question and opened her mouth to make it known. But Trowa's comment silenced her.

"Yes, I could have."

"Why is pinning the blame on someone so important?" Triniti demanded. "It was no more Triton’s fault than yours. Now splint this ankle for me so I can get out of here before I say something I'll have to apologize for."