"I don't believe it," Quetra said into the receiver.
"Tough beans," Duo responded. "I saw the pictures on News Time this morning with Jeanne Couric."
"You still carrying a torch for her?" Quetra grinned.
"Hey, don't say that too loud," Duo whispered. "Hilde hates me watching that show."
Quetra took a deep breath. His joke had lightened the mood, but not by much. "I don't need to ask you if this is related to the man we're after."
"If you did I'd have to reach through the phone and slap you," Duo said seriously. "It's time for us to start protecting the peace again."
"We don't have anything to protect it with," Quetra said sternly. "The only thing left is Noin's Taurus and the Tallgeese, and those haven't been used for three years."
"From the sounds of it, this guy sure knew how to handle that Serpent. If he is some guy from Heero's past, it would explain how Heero learned his skills."
"The plane's going to be landing soon, Duo. I'll call you when I get to the hotel."
The line clicked on the other end, and Quetra put the receiver back in its berth next to him. He put his head back against the near-leather chair and began rubbing his eyes. He had taken a small nap during the trip, but it had done nothing to ease his mind or his heart. And now the news from Duo, about the theft of the last remaining Serpent mobile suit in the world, had placed an even greater weight on his vital organs.
The stewardess, a perky number with creamy skin who filled out her uniform quite nicely, leaned toward Quetra and pointed to the phone. "There's another call for you, Mr. Winner. It's from your secretary."
Quetra nodded and picked up the receiver. "This is Quetra Winner."
"Where the heck are you?" a voice blasted from the phone. Quetra pulled it back slightly, and attracted the attention of several other passengers.
"Ruby, please, calm down--"
"No, I will not calm down! What gives you the right to fly to Lord only knows where and not even tell Rasheed, or me for that matter? I can't make up stories to clients about where their beloved boy-toy contractor is! You know that I've had five different female clients call and ask for your phone number? It took me all morning to locate your flight and the airline you were on, along with the hotel you were staying at! That's not in my job description, you know?"
"So...why did you do it?"
"Because I like you, I guess. Lord only knows why."
"Ruby, you did a remarkable job finding me," Quetra commented. "Thanks for taking all of the calls this morning. Please inform 'those women' that I'll be returning soon, and that the report in Colony GQ was just an exaggeration."
"I guess I could do that," Ruby sighed. "Why do you always do this to me?"
"Make you worry?"
"Duh, Quetra."
"I should fire you for talking disrespectfully to your boss," he teased slightly, "but I'll let it go. I'm going to visit an old friend and take care of an unfinished issue. I won't be long."
"If you say so," Ruby sighed again, then perked up. "Can I make up more stories?"
"Make up as many as you like!"
"This is what I love about working for you," she chirped, then said her farewell. Quetra put the phone back for a second time and fastened his seatbelt; the plane was beginning its descent. Ruby was probably the most energetic employee he had. Not only that, she was the best record keeper and phone jockey in history, and Quetra had to admit that those big square glasses of hers made her awfully cute.
But there was somebody else his mind was on now. As gravity fell slightly in the cabin and Quetra turned his eyes to the engrossing view of Minneapolis, he had to wonder if Relena was alright by her herself in her office...if Mariemaia had really lightened her spirits...if she was even thinking about him...
"Good morning, Minneapolis! This is Clark Doberman on Works 98.5, the hottest mix of oldies music in our fair city! Before we get to that, here's the forecast: sunny with a high of 75 and a perfect breeze, great day to be out with your loved ones! There's no more news yet on that stolen Serpent from last night, but hey, no news is good news, right? Our eight songs and eight is coming up soon, and you know what? I'm just gonna start it right now. Here's Brooks and Dunn with Honky Tonk Truth! Hey, the time is five before eight, don't be late!"
Relena leaned over and tapped the alarm clock gently before the country song kicked into gear. Her eyes stayed fixed on the square light fixture of her bedroom, the exact fixture that she had been staring at for the past ten hours.
Sleep did not come to her easily, and last night had been no exception. She had been reading one of the last works of Sigmund Freud when Lady Une had called her and explained the sketchy information on the Serpent theft. There was nothing Relena could have done to prevent it, she knew...and then, she didn't. Did she know anything anymore?
She turned her eyes to the window, open a few cracks and allowing the gentle breeze to sift the morning fragrance of autum into the room. She pulled the silky lavender sheet closer to her, as she suddenly shivered from a chill. The radio came back on again, and she gave it a polite but rather pointed rap on the "off" button, and returned to her vigil of the light fixture.
"I can't stay in bed forever," she muttered to herself. "I'm going to have to face the world at some point."
She had always thought that she was stronger than this, but now she supposed that she was wrong. Had her strength really come from Heero, all that time? Now that he had all but vanished from her view, after she had come so close to finding him, it was as if all of her determination had been leeched out by the fangs of a vampire. If he was coming here, was it for her or for the man who killed Sylvia?
Relena turned to the window again, let her hair spill out over the pillows. She grabbed the one in both her hands and hugged it to her camisole, crushed it. She closed her eyes bitterly, then opened them to the unforgiving redundancy of her bedroom.
"Face it," she said. "He chose her."
Just because she was dead didn't mean that Heero would come running to her. The idea of Heero running to a woman was absurd, let alone that woman being Relena. She released the pillow and placed it back under her head. Sure, there had been other men who had tried to court her, and others who had tried to date her. She had turned them all down. Now, she wished she hadn't.
Especially Quetra Winner.
He had been so kind and such a gentleman to her. Even after losing touch with him last year, Relena had begun to feel that he might have had something for her, that they might have had something. But now, she had let herself pine away and wait for a trained assassin with the same ice cold eyes and gun-filled hands to come and rescue her.
What was it Britney Spears had said? I'm not that innocent?
"Well, neither am I!" Relena threw the sheets back and sat up, grabbed a tissue from the beside table. Yes, there were tears in her blue eyes, but they were the last that she would cry for herself. If there was anything that she had learned from Heero, it was how to be strong.
She picked up the phone and dialed the hotline to Lady Une's office. Not waiting for the Preventer chief to greet her, Relena said "I want to be notified the second my brother's plane touches a runway. Send Mariemaia to greet them and bring them to my office. If Heero is with them, tell him to come along as well. I'll be waiting."
Relena put the phone down and made her way out of the cobalt and peach bedroom and into the cream hallway, with the fluffy carpet that she had fallen in love with. I must be quite a sight, she thought, as she stormed down the hallway in her camisole and pajamas, and turned the television on while she snatched eggs (carefully) out of the fridge.
It was time for Queen Relena to go to work, and no shooting stars were going to keep her from it.
If Relena had not been so focused on her breakfast, she might have seen the man across from her top-floor apartment, on the roof of Kenner's Clothing, pointing a long dark weapon at her.
"Bang," Nicholas whispered. "Be patient, Relena Peacecraft...be patient and wait for me."
Relena unlocked the door to her office, not bothering to greet Chris, who seemed pretty engrossed in an issue of Animerica. She closed the door quickly behind her and tossed her attache` on one of the leather chairs by the door. There was a full-length mirror on one of the doors to the dark cabinets that lined the one side of her office, and she stood in front of it and sized herself up.
Removing the scarf from the breast pocket of her violet jacket, she proceeded to wrap it around her neck and let the excess fall gently down in front of the seashell blouse. She tugged absentmindedly at the hem of her long skirt, then gave her hair one final toss behind her head.
"I didn't turn out as bad as I thought," she murmured to herself, half in pride and half in an attempt to boost her self-esteem.
"You could have asked me about that, you know," a very quiet and gentle voice drifted from behind her. She turned quickly, not bothering to demand who it was. On one of the leather chairs sat a girl a bit older than she, with a red fuzzy sweater and white jeans. Her hair was a deep auburn and fell just at her shoulders. Behind her stood a striking young man with compassionate eyes, and sporting a familiar deep green turtleneck.
"Trowa Barton," Relena said with a smile. She didn't know the quiet Gundam operator well, but well enough to recognize those eyes and that rather wild hair of his.
"I could have told you about your looks," he offered politely. "A mirror only tells the viewer what the viewer wants to hear."
"You'll have to excuse him today," Catherine said with a wry grin. "He's turning into Socrates."
"I'm afraid to ask how you got in," Relena said as she sat down at her desk.
"Your secretary has tunnel vision" was all Trowa said.
"Duo told us about what happened," Catherine explained. "We thought you might like some company."
"Thank you," Relena said earnestly. "Everyone has been so kind to me lately."
"It was time that some of us returned the favor you paid us," Trowa added.
Relena was about to check her mail for this morning when she noticed the brown shape on her desk, the plump arms and legs, and the button eyes. "What's this?"
"It was here when we arrived," Catherine said. "Trowa's been burning a hole in it for the past hour."
Relena picked up the teddy bear and held it gently in her hands. There was a tag sitting in it's lap, and she opened it with one hand...and almost dropped it.
I told you that I would be there when you needed me. You need me now. I'll be there.
"It's...from Heero..." she whispered, her voice barely passing by her lips. "He..." She couldn't finish the sentence, and stood from the chair and placed the stuffed animal next to her other favorite bear...the other one that Heero had given to her, with the note that she had torn to pieces just to see the reaction on his face.
"Sounds like Heero's quite the lady killer these days," Trowa commented. He put his hands in the pockets of his khakis and appeared to be in deep thought.
"Is something troubling you?" Relena inquired.
Trowa didn't answer.
Although Chris had delivered the package earlier, Nicholas knew that the plan still had a large probability of success....and with the added bonus of bagging Trowa Barton and Quetra Winner in one swoop, it was an opportunity Nicholas could not afford to pass up.
He stood on the roof across from the E.S.U.N. and touched the remote detonator sitting in the inside pocket of his sportcoat.
"Just a few more minutes," he whispered to it. "Then, your patience and mine will be rewarded."
Through some rather thorough chatter, Relena had discovered that Trowa's circus group was in town, and that's how Catherine and Trowa were able to join her. She also saw, but did not hear, the affection that was felt between these two performers. Of course, she thought to herself; Trowa had to trust her at some level if she was throwing knives at him. But there were other signs, she knew...the ceaseless compassion in his eyes being one of them. They were both very much in love, and Relena realized that she had been longing for that for quite some time.
"Have you heard from Quetra lately?" Relena asked, trying to hide the nervousness she felt.
"He's on his way here," Trowa informed.
Relena blinked. "He's coming here?"
"That's what I said."
"Do you know when?" She was very nervous now, more nervous than she had been when she had taken the role of Queen of the entire world.
"Should be sometime soon," Catherine said, glancing at her watch.
Relena tried to focus on the mail she was reading, but found it difficult. She kept seeing her eyes in the reflection of the monitor, and she was captured by the brightness in them. What was Quetra doing to her? Just the mention of his name now made her heart quicken. I don't feel the same way about him that he does about me, do I?
The office door, startling her. She touched her heart slightly and took a deep breath. She could have sworn that Trowa was surpressing a laugh.
Chris opened the office door, and peeked his head in. "Miss Relena? You have another guest."
Oh, no! Not now, I'm a wreck!
"Send him in," she said, folding her hands on the top of the desk and holding her shoulders back a bit more, trying to settle into her usual confidence that she just couldn't find right now.
"I am proud to present Quetra Rebaba Winner," Chris said with a flourish, then disappeared from view. He was replaced by the lean and tall image of the blonde Gundam pilot and heir to a large fortune...a young man who had once hated himself for being kind...a man who had faced much the same situation in life as Relena herself.
He was handsome still, and even more so now that he had grown older. He was decked in an orange dress shirt, an unusual color for him, along with a pair of black slacks and matching shoes. He removed a pair of wrap-around sunglasses and put them on his head, pushing some of the hair away from his baby blues.
He looked directly at her, and Relena's heart caught in her chest, halted all of its many operations to simply stare at Quetra. He had come all this way for her, for her. Even after all this time...he still felt that same way about her. Was it love? She didn't know about him, but she was fairly certain she loved him, especially now. Whether she was ready to admit it or not, she needed someone, and Quetra was the best person for the job.
"Hello, Relena," he said in a voice that was barely controlling its affection.
"You look well, Quetra," Relena managed to say, standing up and extending her hand across her desk. Quetra surprised her by not shaking her hand, but taking it in his and and squeezing it softly, as if afraid her hand was made of china. There was so much to be said for that little squeeze, and Relena had to remind herself to breathe.
"Violet is an excellent color on you," he said, still not releasing her hand.
"I've never seen you in orange," she said back. "It's very becoming."
"Ahem!" That was Trowa, who now sat on the armrest of the chair, arms folded over his chest, looking rather impatient.
"Trowa!" Quetra exclaimed.
"It's about time you noticed me," Trowa said, pretending (very well) to be upset. "I was feeling neglected."
The two friends shared a meaningful but quick hug, and then Quetra shared another one with Catherine. Relena tried her best to stay confident, trying not to listen the voice screaming in her head that said "Hug me! Hug me too!"
Quetra turned his attention to Relena again. "I hope that you'll allow me to stay with you today," he said respectfully. "I can think of no other place that I would rather be."
"I wouldn't want you to be anywhere else," she said, surprising herself. Quetra blinked, then began to smile. "I would be honored if you stayed here, Quetra."
"You notice something different about those teddy bears, Quetra?" Trowa cut in, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Quetra turned his attention to the items in question, and Relena did the same. What was this sudden obsession with her girlish hobby, anyway?
Quetra picked up the latest addition and squeezed it slightly. "Most bears aren't this fat," he noticed. "Compared to this other one, I mean."
"And most of them carry a smile," Trowa said darkly.
Relena hadn't noticed that before. She had been so focused on the note...
"And most of them," Trowa continued, "don't have an amateur stiching job on the back."
Quetra turned the bear over, and picked at the loose seam, finding a single black wire extending from the bear's innards.
"Trowa, get down!" Quetra shouted, and threw the bear out the window. In the confusion, the shattered and spraying glass, the sensation of Quetra hugging Relena to himself and throwing both of them to the floor, Relena's mind spun in a sudden realization of the danger she had suddenly placed herself in.
The bear had not traveled through the air for very long before it detonated in a display of roaring red fire, the force of the explosion cracking the other windows in the office, but not completely breaking them. Like a demon on a mission, the remainder of the bear's head came flying back into the office, rolling across the carpet before it came to rest by Trowa's foot. He was standing across from the broken window, and the blackened head was squished under his shoe.
"He was waiting for Quetra," he said in his usual quietness. "Otherwise, he would have detonated the bear before."
"That man isn't after just Heero anymore, is he?" Catherine asked in fear, wrapping an arm around Trowa's.
"I think his target was Relena," Trowa informed, and continued to stare out the window. He could not make out the vauge form of a man across the street, leaping from the edge of a rooftop and darting down a fire escape.
Relena slowly opened one eye, then the other, and was greeted with the face of Quetra.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his chest heaving.
"Yes," she said softly. "Thank you."
She could feel his breath gently on her cheeks, the smell of his cologne, and those eyes...those eyes...
"Quetra, I'm--"
The phone interrupted her, and she began silently cursing it in her mind. Stupid phone, why do you ring at the most inappropriate moments?
Quetra pulled away from her reluctantly and helped her stand, holding her hands once again. She snatched the phone from the receiver by the computer and held it up to her ear.
"This is Relena Darlan."
"Put me on speaker phone."
She did as the voice told her, and the voice of Heero Yuy filled the office.
"I'm with Zechs and Noin right now. We think we've got a lead on the assassin who killed Sylvia."
"Heero, I think he tried to plant a bomb in Relena's office," Quetra reported.
"I saw the blast, Quetra. We're in pursuit of the vehicle now. I'll call back when we nail him."
"What should we do in the meantime?" Trowa asked.
"Trowa, stand outside and keep watch for a red Camry. That's his car. If you can, try to knock him out. I'm counting on your circus skills."
"You've got it," Trowa affirmed, and he and Catherine departed.
"Quetra," Heero's voice said calmly. "Look after Relena for me."
With that, the phone went dead.
Relena put her hands on her desk and steadied herself. Her hands slowly clenched into fists, the first ones she had made in perhaps her whole life. "I still can't help him." She turned her eyes to Quetra, who was standing in a mixture of concern and shock. "I can't help him at all. He's still saving me."
Quetra's hand found a comfortable place on her shoulder, but Relena could barely feel it. It was as if all of her pep talk and her companions had melted away, the vampire paying yet another cruel and unforgiving visit. She was back in bed, hugging a pillow, crying over the first boy she had ever chased, the first one who she thought had promised himself to her. The one that, if he was ever in trouble, that she would be willing to rescue.
"I'm still too weak," she said, and ignored a shocked Quetra's gasp as a single crystal tear plopped onto the desk.
