Gundam Seed Destiny Fan Fiction / Gundam SEED Fan Fiction ❯ Eternal Destiny ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"Eternal Destiny"

a Gundam Seed Fanfiction

Chapter Nine

Started: January 2008

Words: 12,826

Specialty

Reina Evans came up from her crouch, panting hard and sweating profusely, to the sound of solo applause. Surprise spiked through her , and she whipped around to face the newcommer. The ORB officer had thought she was alone in the Zaft ship's fitness room.

“Not bad for a natural,” the Zaftie commented.

She scowled, fighting between her instinctive reaction to telling him where he could shove it and her training which demanded respect to authority. Discipline won out; she was, after all, a guest here.

Her uninvited companion smirked. “That was an honest compliment,” he continued, pushing away from the wall and pulling up her assessment results from the console. “Especially since I know you haven't had practice with that particular program.”

“Orb has plenty of PT programs,” she defended.

“That's true,” the commander allowed, “but they don't have this one. I designed it myself,” he added before she could try another argument.

“You design programs?”

He looked back at her, fighting his amusement. “That surprises you?”

“I just,” Reina began. She shrugged and seemed to draw back on herself for a moment. “I just never thought someone in your positioin would have the time.”

“It's a hobby,” Commander Joule admitted. “Something to play with in my free time; although I rarely have the time to engage in it anymore.”

“Of course,” Reina murmurred demurely wondering why exactly the Zaft commander was in the fitness room at this time of night. He should have been sleeping or pouring over reports, shouldn't he? Although, the fitness fatigues were probably a good indication of his purpose.

“So, tell me,” he continued moving to the stimulation console and manipulating data there. “What have our resident Orb spies discovered in the walls of my ship.”

“I would hardly label myself as a spy when I'm open about both who I am and why I'm here,” Reina balked.

He shot her a discerning look, blue eyes penetrating and almost disdainful. “You're here to spy on my people and my ship and then report back to your superiors. Yes, there's no secret as to why you're here.”

His attitude rubbed at her. “If you don't like it why did you allow my partner and I to transfer to your ship?”

“Better the spy you know than the one you don't,” he grunted, seemingly satisfied with whatever he was looking at on the console. “Besides, I have nothing to hide from Orb's leaders. They already know my secrets.”

She hesitated only a moment. “Sir, permission to speak freely?”

“You weren't already?” he asked before commanding her to speak.

“You know Cagalli-sama personally.”

“To some extent.”

“Because of the wars?” Reina tried to clarify.

“In part,” he answered her. “More so because of the aftermath of both wars. As representatives of our governments we often had to work together.”

“And General Yamato as well.”

He eyed her critically before deciding to answer. “We spent the first war trying to kill each other, and much of the second trying not to. It was war,” he continued at her gasp. “That's what soldiers try to do: kill the other and stay alive until it's over. It's madness, insanity, and that's why we're tyring to stop it from happening again.”

“I see,” Reina responded, looking away.

“I doubt it, but now it's your turn to answer something for me.”

“If I can.”

“Why do you exist?” he asked her sharply, watching her closely.

She looked surprised, confused by the question, but he merely stood there, watching her, waiting for her answer.

Reina blinked and then began, "The Special Forces are a protective force."

"Ch. The fact that they exist at all means there will be fighting," he scoffed, causing her to frown.

“But there will always be fighting, sir.”

“Why?” he pressed.

“Well, because…” She fished around her thoughts, struggling to find the answer. “Because it's human nature.”

“What is human nature?”

“To fight.”

“Just to fight?” he continued relentlessly. “Is that all there is to human nature? If so, then why bother to create a special force supposedly dedicated to protecting people from themselves? If it is human nature to fight, then what purpose do you serve in preventing what is natural?”

“You make us sound like animals,” Reina whispered.

“But that's exactly what we are, my dear Orb spy,” Commander Joule replied. “That is all any of us are.”

****

Parental Concerns

<past>

The fourteen year old burst into her father's office like a fireball of fury. “Father, I need to know the truth!” she demanded with a pounding fist to emphasize her need.

“Cagalli,” her father returned, his voice stern yet caring, “you need to stay here and attend to your lessons. One day Orb will be your responsibliity. You must be prepared.”

“How can I stay here when people are out there fighting for their lives, fighting for their very right to live?” she cried, frustrated at the world that would promote war and encourage carnage, at her father who sat behind his desk doing nothing to help.

“We fight for Orb, to protect Orb and her people. Our people,” he reminded her.

“You aren't fighting at all!” she shouted, waving her arms about. “How can we just sit here in our peaceful little bubble and pretend what's happening outside our borders doesn't matter?”

“Fighting isn't always the answer, Cagalli,” her father tired to make her listen, tried to make her understand. “You shouldn't resort to fighting until it is the absolute last option available to you. We fight with words so that we may all live to fight another day. Life is precious. It is a horrible thing to be responsible for the death of another person. I hope it is something you never find cause to experience. I hope you and your children will live in a free and peaceful world.”

<present>

She was no longer that same rash and impulsive fourteen year old girl, Cagalli thought as she sat in the nursary, rocking absently in the chair that had been found somewhere in the family's possessions. Experience had made her grow up rather quickly. The weight of responsibility and the fierce determination to protect her people had taught her the worth of her father's words.

“Cagalli, are you in here?” Athrun called from the corridor. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, just thinking.”

“About the babies?” he asked, joining her in the sunlit room.

“About life,” she corrected. “About my father; the kind of man he was. How he influenced me, influenced the world. The world he had so much hope for. He was a good man, a good leader, and a good parent.”

He smiled. “You're those things, too.”

“Maybe,” she allowed.

“How can you be so sure about me and not yourself?” Athrun wondered, shaking his head as he sank down into the window seat.

“Talent, I guess.”

“No, talent is the way you maneuver the Council into doing exactly what you want and make them believe it was originally their idea all along.”

“They're just humoring the gross, pranant woman,” she countered. “Do you know we had to pause seven times just so I could go to the bathroom today?”

He grinned. No, smirked, she thought with narrowed eyes. He actually had the audacity to smirk at her.

“Don't laugh,” she accused and would have hit him if she could have reached him, but it would've taken too long to lumer out of the chair and the large bulge that was her once-upon-a-time flat stomach preventerd her from leaining too far over.

“It won't be long now,” he thought aloud, watching her hand run soothingly over her pregnant belly.

“Yes, and then it'll be all dirty, smelly diapers and crying and no sleep.”

“Times two,” he remined her cheerfully.

“You're real proud of yourself, aren't you?” she huffed, shaking her head at him.

“And you,” he reminded her, leaning forward and falling out of the window seat and onto his knees before her. And he made it look so smooth, too, she grumbled mentally.

“Hello, baby-mine,” he said gently, pressing his lips to her stomach. “Are you excited to come out and take a look around yet? Things seem to be calming down quite a bit, so I think it's okay. But no matter what, your mom and I will be here to help and protect you. Just not during sex.”

“Athrun!”

“Let's make a deal right now. No getting hungry or needing your diapers changed when your mom and I are having sex, okay? You're mom's a really sexy lady, so that might be quite often,” he continued, green eyes dancing merrily as he looked up at her without moving away.

“Well,” she allowed, carding her fingers through his hair. “You're a pretty sexy guy.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

She grinned. “Yeah.”

“Here that, baby-mine. Your mom thinks I'm pretty sexy. What do you say to that? With two sexy parents, you're going to be beating all the boys and girls away with sticks.”

“Better yet, we can teach them how to use a gun early,” Cagalli suggested. “Then they won't have to deal with anyone getting close enough to need a stick for.”

Athrun laughed against her belly. “Protect them by giving them the means to protect themselves? Sounds good. You know they'll need their own guard unit.”

“Why?” Cagalli huffed. “I never did.”

“I'm sure you had one, even if you weren't aware of it. We can't be with them all the time, Cagalli. And we still have the matter of selecting a nursing assistant.”

“I still think it's ridiculous,” she grumbled and started rocking again, forcing him to sit back or get bumped.

“You're tired now,” Athrun reasoned. “And I know you, Cagalli. You won't be content to stay away from the helm for long. We would need help even if it was only one baby. With two… I think it's best if it was someone who's been trained. That would mean we'd have the help we'll need, and they'll have the extra protection.”

“Fine, I suppose.” She sighed, rubbing her belly some more. “I liked that one woman well enough I guess.”

He tried to remember which of the many potential childcare assisstants she had seemed more inclined towards. “The redhead?” he hazzard. I liked that one woman

Cagalli frowned. “I thought it was brown. Whatever. She seemed pretty sharp. Has a couple of degrees in this or that, right? Seems like a good choice if we have to make one, so there you go. Nanny taken care of. Kisaka will appoint a guard he approves of—“

“Better make it two.”

“Not for a couple of years yet, surely,” she protested. But Athrun was already getting the scrowl line in his forehead that meant he was going to be stubborn. “Just in case, though, we'll make sure the nanny has extra training, okay?”

He sighed, and she relaxed, knowing she'd at least won at something. “Normal parents don't have to think about things like this, you know,” he thought sadly.

“We're not really normal, you know. Besides, normallacy is overrated.”

“Cagalli, I want our children to have as normal a childhood as possible.”

“Athrun, what do you want me to do? I have doctors breathing down my neck day and night trying to get to them already. Parlaiment is convinced that the end of the world as we know it is approaching. And,” she added, pushing him away so she could clamber to her feet, “I have to pee. Again.”

****

Missing Pieces - Kira/Lacus

In the small but tasteful waiting room, Kira stood, frowning at the view screen. The scenes of carnage twisted his stomach with a vicious grip. It clicked off, and Lacus calmly returned the remote to the table before folding her hands back over one knee, the picture of calm perfection.

"There's nothing we can do about that now," she reminded him gently. "What's done is done."

"It was the same suit," Kira said softly. "From before."

She nodded. "Cagalli and Athrun are taking care of that problem. Other people are searching for the root of this discord. Kira." She stood and reached for him, sliding her hands up over his tense shoulders and resting her cheek against his back.

"I know," he choked out. "There's nothing I can do there. It's just--"

"Kira is a very kind person," Lacus murmured, turning him to her and reaching up to cup his face. How she loved this man. "He hates to see other people hurting; he would help if he could. I know. I understand, Kira. I feel the same."

She held him close before the door opened and the middle-aged secretary motioned for them to enter. "Thank you for waiting. Ms. Fischer will see you now."

The private executive's office belonging to the woman they had come to see was simply furnished, leaving way for the few art pieces decorating the walls to fill the room with style. Those and the large impact-glass wall over-looking the cityscape. It suited the woman who stood behind the desk frame.

"Thank you for taking the time to see us on such short notice," Kira greeted, hand extended.

Her dark blue eyes flicked to the hand and back to his face. Her body didn't move. "Why are you here, Mr. Yamato?"

Kira blinked, taken back by the woman's hostile tone, and looked back towards his wife for support. "I'm sorry. I thought you understood--"

"I won't pay you," Fischer cut him off shortly, and Kira shifted , as shocked by her suggestion as if she had physically struck at him. "I don't care what price you name, you're not going to get one cent out of me."

"Excuse me?"

"Threaten to tell whoever you want. I still won't pay."

"Ms. Fischer, I don't want your money."

Coral-painted lips narrowed into a tight line to match the already narrowed blue eyes. "I will not withdraw my support of the McKinnelly Campaign."

"We're not here for politics, Ms. Fischer," Lacus stepped in coolly. "In fact, I'm sure we all can agree it best if today's visit was kept out of the public's awareness."

The women eyed each other critically, and then Fischer seemed to relax, just slightly. "Say I believe you," she began, eyes flickering between Kira and Lacus. "Then why are you here?"

"We believe my husband and you share a common origin," Lacus explained with a gentle motion towards Kira who still looked a little lost and hurt at the accusations for why they'd come here. "We merely wanted to meet with you and share our thoughts. That is all."

"Is that really your face?" Fischer asked shrewdly. At Lacus's surprised look and nod, the woman grimaced. "The Lacus Clyne in my office," she huffed sliding back into her plush computer chair. "Fine, yes. I would prefer if the public did not learn that I was entertaining Plant's Princess in my office. And that would make you," she continued, turning to face Kira again, "Orb's General Yamato. And when you say `common origin' I'm going to go off on a wild limb and assume you're not referring to South Jersey.”

They shook their head, and Fischer huffed. “Definitely touchy ground you've brought into my office."

She motioned both of them to take a seat. They sat there studying each other for several tense moments. Finally, Fischer broke the silence.

"So you're one of them." She sighed and stood again. "Coffee?" she asked while she got herself a cup.

"No, thank you," Kira replied, standing again also. "Ms. Fischer, are you well?"

Her lips twitched into a humorless smile. "As hale as a horse. Perfect health. Never even had a cold. Only time, in fact, that I've ever had to bother with any medic in when I had my two boys.”

Lacus parted the shower divider and reached for the natural sponge. Without a word, she added soap and began sliding it down across Kira's taunt back.

“I don't know what I expected,” he announced dully while she continued to spread the suds over his shoulders. “I disrupted that woman's life today. Possibly endangered her.”

Lacus placed a kiss against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek against his back. “She's a connection to your origins. You to hers. It's only natural that have wanted to meet someone who has that same connection as you.”

“Is it? Is it really?” Kira asked. “Cagalli told me how she felt nothing, no connection at all to Dana Rothwell. Today, in that room, I felt nothing. Nothing except embarrassment that I disturbed her work.”

“She was nice,” Lacus offered. “Afterwards.”

“That only makes it worse.”

“Kira,” Lacus called to him, turning him around to face her. “It's not wrong or bad to be curious about your birth parents. It's not wrong to want to know about others who have similar beginnings as yours.”

“Maybe no, but does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters.”

“No, I don't think it does.” Kira shook his head and stared down into her face. His thumbs brushed along her cheeks, and he did his best to offer her a small. “Not anymore, Lacus. I used to think the missing pieces of my past were important, but meeting that woman today, seeing her.” He shook his head again. “She hasn't let the missing pieces haunt her. I'm not going to either. I'm going to live my life for the future. For our future and our children's future.”

Lacus smiled and reached up to cup his face. “I like the sound of that. I like the sound of that a lot.”

“I love you, Lacus,” he told her with a punctuating kiss. “I love you and the kids. I love my parents and Cagalli and Athrun. You're my family, present and future. That's what matters. I can't keep sliding into tricks of the past like this.”

“You can't change the past, Kira,” she tried to warn him, return each of his little kisses with some of her own. “You can only study it and hopefully learn from it. Become better because of it.”

He drew back. “You need to be able to let go of it, too. I need to let go of it. My past is in space. I need to lay it to rest there.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“Love you,” he answered, leaning in again.

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“Thank your parents for being willing to watch the boys for two weeks,” Lacus returned with a smile.

“Our appointment with Dr. Crisner isn't for another week, but we could always go down to the Caribbean early.”

“You really don't want to go to the Californias?”

“No,” he confirmed with a head shake. “I'm done. I'm going to throw those files Rothwell gave me in the incinerator. I'd rather concentrate on my family now.”

“We could always try for the mountains. I've never seen the Appalachians.”

“Me, either. We could maybe find a private cabin and hide out for a couple of days.”

“That sounds nice,” Lacus hummed. “What would we do all by ourselves, though?”

“I'm sure we could come up with a few ideas.”

And then he preceded to show her a few of his choice ideas.

****

Fumigation

Risa walked into his office holding only one report folder. Athrun looked up from his current workload--which had more than tripled in an effort to redirected the larger portion of Cagalli's normal, insane amounts mixed in with coordinating with the new Orb Representative in PLANT.

"Another one?" he sighed, looking at his already crowded desk and wondering just how much of this he'd be able to finish before 6pm rolled around.

"I think you'll want to see this one," she said, holding it out for him to take directly instead of dropping it onto the appropriate pile.

He quirked a questioning look, but she didn't say anymore. He took the folder and flipped it open, skimming the synopsis. She stood, arms crossed almost angrily as she watched him take the time to read the report in more detail. He skimmed it again, as if to ascertain certain points.

He exhaled heavily and then reached for his pen and seal. Then he closed the folder and just stared at it. "Take care of the rest," he said finally.

She glared at him a moment longer before asking, "That's it?"

He nodded.

Silence stretched between them, waiting expectantly, before she finally snatched up the report and whirled around to stomp away.

"Risa," Athrun called before she could read the door. "My wife doesn't need to know about this."

"You're going to hide this from Cagalli-sama?"

"No. I'll tell her in my own way, in my own time, that the matter has been resolved, but she doesn't need to know the details,” Athrun insisted firmly. “She doesn't need to know that people who have sworn to support her, to protect Orb, have smiled to her face and schemed behind her back. The leak has been fixed, that's what matters, Risa. That it was someone we trusted stings, but we had to expect it."

"They've been terminated," she said shallowly. "I went through specials training with one of them."

He said the only thing he could offer the young, dedicated woman. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"He was already lost if he could've helped betray Orb like this," she responded, finding her backbone again and straightening where she stood. "Forgive me, Athrun-sama, for interrupting your work longer than necessary. I'll get this report filed in the proper location right away."

He watched her go, remembering how he had felt when he decided to leave Orb to go to PLANT, when he made the decision to fight again with ZAFT instead of staying with Orb. That was different, he forcibly reminded himself. He and Cagalli were caught in the middle of a budding war--a war that was partially his father's fault. Even today he regretted that his leaving cause such a rift between him and Cagalli, but he knew he would still have chosen to leave.

But this was different. Orb was not caught in the middle of a war; she was staying firmly outside of it. Those five people weren't trying to help anyone but themselves. They were selling Orb's information and secrets for personal monetary gain. There was nothing heroic or honorable in their intentions, nothing good, and that he could not forgive.

No, the two situations were nothing alike. Athrun felt no guilt in signing away four men and one woman's termination sentence. Just incredibly tired.

His comm. unit rang, dragging him away from his morbid thoughts.

"Zala," he greeted automatically, tiredly.

"What do you say we cut this place early?" Cagalli's voice sang out teasingly.

His gaze darted to the chronometer, and he grinned.

"Athrun?" she called when he didn't answer. "Is everything all right?"

"It's fine. No, it's better than all right, it's perfect," he answered, sitting up and forward. "So, Representative Athha, to what do I owe the pleasant reward of getting to skip out of work almost two hours early?"

"Well, it's not really skipping out of work if we actually leave on time, I'm thinking," Cagalli hedged.

He wasn't buying it for a millisecond. "Oh, really?"

"And I might have overheard one of the interns talking about some nice little restaurant near city central; there's the cinema near there, too, so I thought, 'hey! Since we're supposed to be making ourselves more available to public visual consumption...'"

Athrun's grin reached right down into his very core. "Are you asking me out to dinner and a movie? Like a regular date?"

"We haven't done it in years," she returned with a definite flirtatious tone.

He had to think about that for a moment. "No, we haven't," he agreed when he realized she was right. They'd been too busy and too far apart for too long. "It sounds great. Did you already have a movie picked out?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure there's something playing that we can agree to."

"Surely," he agreed, grinning. His wife tended to be a little blood-thirsty in her tastes, but he didn't mind a good high-speed chase with lots of explosions, either. "So, what time should I be ready to pick you up?"

"Let's make it in, oh, say, twenty minutes? That should give me enough time to run to the bathroom and change."

"Change?"

"Mana's been slipping some new maternity styles into my closet here. I thought I might try one of them out," she confessed.

"I look forward to seeing it. So, twenty minutes, then? I'll meet you out near the elevators?"

She agreed and disconnected, leaving a bemused Athrun still grinning with anticipation. He looked at his desk and calculated how much he'd be able to get done in fifteen minutes, and then pushed away, abandoning it all.

"Risa," he called even as he started to pack a few things. "Cagalli and I will be heading out early tonight. If you will alert the people in PR and let them know we're heading in towards city central for a few hours. I'm sure they can select a few discreet members of the media to nudge along."

"Yes, sir."

"And when you're done with that, you can go home for the night, too. No sense in staying around much later on a Friday night anyway." At her surprised look, he tried again. "Take the evening, Risa. Enjoy it with your fiancé."

"Thank you, sir. Enjoy your evening, too."

"I certainly intend to."

****

Disruptive Politics - Dana

Dana Rothwell entered the dining room of her family estate to find her mother and father already seated at the lengthy table. “Good evening,” she greeted as she slid into her assigned seat. “I trust your day was well.”

“Good evening, Dana,” her mother greeted warmly, happy to have one of her children home again. “I'm glad you could arrange for a visit. I know you're so busy with your little hobby.”

Lord Rothwell puffed out with annoyance. “Posing in scandalous skimpy outfits for those rag magazines.”

“Fashion journals are not rags, daddy. And it might interest you to know that I'm branching out into video clips.”

Her father threw his napkin down. “I don't understand why you would willingly sell your body when I have worked hard to provide you and your siblings with a good home and education.”

“I am not a prostitute, daddy,” she snapped back. “I enjoy my work. I enjoy traveling around the world and discovering new things. The fashion industry allows me to do that.”

“The world is a dangerous place right now. It's not safe for anyone to be traveling outside their country, let alone a beautiful young woman,” he concluded with a rough gesture in her direction.

“Because of the war,” she sharply accused.

“We are not at war,” Lord Rothwell belied.

“Yet,” she interjected. “It's only a matter of time before war is declared publicly. That's why you're working so hard to gain allies. That's why the EuroFed joined with the Asians, isn't it? You knew the Americas wouldn't let go, you intend to declare war,” Dana accused angrily before scoffingly continuing. “Oh! It'll go under the heading of self-defense if you win, but if you lose it's a civil war at the global level. Are you planning on recruiting the Africans and South Americans, too?” she demanded shrewdly, eyeing her father's deeply reddening face. “What about Plant? Will you have them fight a war that has nothing to do with them?”

“It has everything to do with them!” Lord Rothwell exploded with pounding fists. “Recent troubles have caused many political leaders to reevaluate old ideals. Prejudism still exists, but so does tolerance. More and more leaders are willing to open their borders more freely to coordinators. Orb's example is starting to have an effect.”

“Orb isn't the only country to have open borders in regards to Coordinators,” Dana reminded him waspishly.

“Perhaps not,” her father allowed before maintaining, “But it is a well-known and influential country. Her leader is a strong young woman who is upholding her father's ideals. Granted, there was that bit of a scandal about her being in the family way, but she married the man, as is only proper.”

“They were already married, daddy,” Dana reminded him with no little annoyance. “They'd been privately married for years. The only reason they kept it a secret was because he's a coordinator.”

“Well, so they say,” the man drawled dismissively. “The fact of the matter is, Orb has once again allied themselves with Plant, making her political power that much stronger. When we gain Orb's support, the Atlantic Federation would have no hope in preventing the return of our autonomy.”

“When?” Dana latched on. “You mean `if'.”

Her father smiled. “My sources say it's only a matter of time before Orb joins our efforts.”

“Why would they?” Dana exclaimed. “You said yourself that Attha was following her father's ideals.”

“Yes. Orb often remains detached from altercations. Unless provoked.”

Eyes narrowed suspiciously as she looked down the table at the man who had helped raise her as his own since infancy. “What happened? What did you do?” she hissed.

“I?” her father querried with a heavily applied air of innocence that she didn't believe to a minute. “I did nothing. Apparently one of the Atlantic's ships attacked an Orb vessel out in the middle of free territory. An unfortunate move on their part, wouldn't you say?”

“What?” Dana nearly shrieked in disbelief.

“Yes. A rather foolish move on the Atlantic's part,” her father practically boasted. “What with Orb's reputation of defending its own, it's a mercy anyone was left alive to tell the tale.”

None of her sources had shared this information with her. How did her father know of this? Who had told him? And just when had this happened, Dana demanded to know. “You think Orb will rise up and attack because of this,” she said instead.

“That is my hope,” Lord Rothwell confided. “It's better, after all, to allow your enemies to destroy your enemies.”

“I didn't realize Europe looked upon the Orb nation as an enemy.”

“If they won't ally themselves with our cause then they cannot be trusted. If they cannot be trusted to support us, then they cannot be trusted not to side with our enemies,” he explained reasonably.

The sound of silverware chinking against fine china sounded as Lady Rothwell set her knife and fork down with forced delicacy.

“Could we please not discuss such troubling matters at the dinner table?” her mother entreated with a forced upon grievance.

Dana and her father both apologized with habitual subdued ness, but throughout the remainder of the meal and its accompanying inane chatter, Dana couldn't help but wonder, would Orb decide to join the fight after all? And why would the Atlantic Federation take such provocative action towards a country that had been maintaining its autonomy and neutralism?

****

Situation Update

They were gathered in the Military Command of Orb Conference Room. Cagalli readjusting her mass into the chief's chair and looking at her military advisors and friends. “We still don't know about those missing suit schematics,” she grumbled shifting the topic from Orb's security and defenses.

“Actually, we do,” her chief of intelligence corrected withdrawing the appropriate files. “Based on information gathered by our operatives, we've been able to determine which suit was responsible for the attack on the Archangel two months ago. It's the same model as the MBF-540 designed by Morgenroete, with a few noticable differences. The Atalantics call it the `Metacomet'.”

“Metacomet?” Athrun questioned in aside to Kira.

“I think it's supposed to be pronounced like the French,” his friend responded. “Metacomeh.”

Athrun just looked at him before returning his attention towards his wife. “This information has already been sent to the other world governments in an effort to help them better prepare. If they're aware of some of its weaknesses, they can have some hope of fighting against it and maybe even defeating it.”

“That's just one suit,” Cagalli grunted. “What about the others? Nearly half a dozen of the new attack unit designs were lost.”

“We've determined that the EA was only able to procure three of those designs, and so far as we've been able to discover they've only built two of the three,” Kira was able to answer her.

“The other is the same one your friend said she found in the Californias,” Kisaka informed them, “and it'll take a while for it to be rebuilt if she sabotagoed it as severely as she reported.”

“If she can be trusted,” Cagalli muttered, banging her fist against the table. “Dammit! I hate feeling useless.”

Her officers shifted restlessly before following Athrun's dismissal and taking their leave. Cagalli was already out of her seat and glaring out the glass-view over-looking the port-base.

“You're not useless,” Kira corrected her. “You're vital to maintaining Orb's position in the global sphere.”

“I wish there was something more I could do. I hate—“

“Cagalli, breathe,” Athrun commanded gently.

With a look between the two men, Kira stood as well and left the two Orb rulers to themselves in the MCOCR. Alone, Athrun slid up from behind Cagalli; he eased her back against his chest and smoothed his hands up and down her arms, resting his chin against her hair.

“You're doing everything you can,” he stressed. “Hopefully the Earth governments will find a way to stop that suit, and the EuroAsian and North Atlantic will find an end to their conflicts soon. But there's only so much you can do. There's only so much we can do, and our priorty has to be to Orb first, you know that.”

“There should be more,” Cagalli whispered brokenly.

“You can't push yourself like this, Cagalli,” Athrun pleaded. “Please.”

“I know,” she huffed, reaching up to pull his arms around her. “But I can't help—ten years ago you and I would both be out there doing something about what's happening!”

“And now we're both here, together, doing something about what's happening. We're still fighting, Cagalli. It's only the battlefield we fight on and the weapons we fight with that's changed.”

“I'm scared, Athrun,” she confided though her chest felt constricted.

“About what?”

“This isn't the kind of world I want our children to grow up in,” she warbled, gesturing wildly at the pictures still displaying on the viewscreens behind them.

He started at them, feeling the same desperate need to act. Instead he pulled her closer and curled himself around her and their children, as if he could act like a shield against the rest of the world, protecting them from everything and anything that could hurt them.

“I love you.”

She relaxed slightly. “Love you, too.”

****

A Quickie

Cagalli contemplated the sofa longingly. It sat there in the office, mocking her, daring her to leave her work for just a few minutes and stretch out a bit. Just a few minutes…

Her body hurt—aches dull and sharp stretched everywhere from top to bottom. And to make matters worse, she hadn't been sleeping well. There were too many variables, too much was teetering towards going Very Bad, very quickly.

Every day she listened to the news reports. Everyday she wondered if this day would be the day the world would tumble into another war. Fighting escalated in the Asian territories as politicians and bureaucrats struggled fiercely to reach an amicable agreement for everyone. It had been going on like this every day for the last two months. And an end didn't seem in sight.

The door to her outer office opened without warning and she sat up automatically, only relaxing again when she heard her husband's voice.

“Any pressing matters for our esteemed head of state?”

Despite herself, Cagalli's lips twitched into a smile. “Nothing that can't hold at least for a little while,” she answered. “Have you finished with your work then?”

“I have successfully learned the art of delegation,” Athrun grinned back at her, eyeing the folders on her desk. “Maybe you've heard of it?”

“It's the sole reason I know what the surface of my desk actually looks like.”

“Let's take a break,” he suggested, and despite herself, her body twanged to attention.

“Athrun, I hurt,” she protested, hoping to ward him off just a bit.

He frowned but continued to draw her up out of her chair. “The babies?”

“Everything.”

“Then a bit of a lie-down would do you some good,” he cajoled, shimmy-dancing her closer. “I'll behave.”

“Impossible,” she declared.

“I promise.”

Cagalli laughed as he buried his face against her throat. Somehow he had managed t maneuver them across the room, and he was easing her down onto the couch with him.

“I would believe you,” she murmured, cuddling closer, “but I know you.”

"Cagalli?” he asked worriedly, running his hands over her arms and playing idly with her hands. “Are you really all right?"

"Fine,” she assured him. “Just tired and achy. But I hate my body right now."

"And funnily enough, I simply adore it," he commented, unable to resist a little nibble.

She squirmed again him. "Athrun, don't."

"Don't what?" he teased.

"Don't do that," she shrieked with laughter, half-trying to arch away from his hands and mouth.

"That?" he queried.

"That," she agreed.

"Have I told you just how much I adore you?” Athrun asked. “You and your body?"

"I'm ugly and fat and know it,” Cagalli grumbled, slapping his hands away. “And we are not having sex in my office."

"You're gorgeous and sexy, and if I didn't know you have a meeting to be at in less than an hour I'd seriously attempt to change your mind,” he informed her, continuing to run his hands up and down her body. “After all, your office is one of my favorite places."

"You're crazy," she laughed, snuggling closer.

"Doesn't make you any less sexy.” They sat comfortably for several minutes before Athrun thought to comment, “I like you're hair. It's the longest you've ever had it."

She looked at the end he was playing with, frowning. "I've been too busy to have it cut recently."

"I like it long."

"Yeah,” she quipped, nudging him. “But we've already established that your tastes are a little skewed."

"What?" he spluttered indignantly.

"I'm severely pregnant and my body feels like some strange alien thing. Isn't that enough?"

The light-hearted atmosphere he'd been trying for seemed to be lost. He exhaled and hugged her closer. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Athrun. Really,” she promised before ordering him to stop worrying.

"I love you."

She smiled and hugged his arms around her. "I know. I love you, too."

"I never get tired of hearing you say that," he told her.

She laughed and pinched him. "That's because you're strange,” she told him before struggling to sit up on her own. “Go on. Don't you have some place you need to be this afternoon, too?"

"Yeah,” he sighed. “A meeting over at the base this afternoon, and then a tour of the new development they finished last month. Just a normal day in the life of the most important person in Orb's husband's life," he bemoaned. "But I'm not in a hurry. Are you trying to get rid of your husband, Ms. Athha?"

"Dummy," she scowled and didn't quite manage to successfully hide another wince.

"Here, turn around," he ordered, twirling his finger at her.

"What?"

"Your back is hurting, isn't it? Turn around and I'll give you a quickie,” he offered, already reaching for her shoulders. And then he leaned forward and nibbled at her ear to add, “Not quite the quickie I'd like to give you, but it'll have to do."

"Athrun!"

He grinned.

****

News Discussion - Coordinators

Plant scientist and doctors were making noises day and night, trying to gain access to the Orb Princess. No matter what their requests, Orb continued to refuse. It seemed like the only thing hotter than the hostilities between the former Earth Alliance nations was the pregnancy and upcoming birth of Cagalli Athha and her Plant-husband, Athrun Zala.

News coverage war broad and reached every aspect of the profession—political, science, business, and even entertainment news reporters followed the story of the Orb pregnancy from all their various perspectives. Every evening seemed to air a new documentary that somehow managed to involve Orb.

The worst, however, were the debates Cagalli forced herself to watch.

“Most coordinators are first or second generation,” a Plant scientist was explaining. “Only a very small percent are third generation, and the majority of that percent is made up of children under the age of 10.

“I think it's really important that we remember that this is still a relatively new biotechnology.”

“Coordinators were—are,” another doctor corrected, “an experiment. An experiment that outgrew its parameters. One hundred years ago, when the first coordinators were made, cloning was taboo straight out, let alone researching to manipulate genetic coding with the purpose of recreating a human being. A small team of doctors researching stem cells took their research to radical, and many maintain unethical, extremes. In a daring experiment, one of the doctors began playing with DNA codes. She and another doctor stimulated the code into reproducing itself until an embryo formed. The doctor then impregnated herself, and eight months later the first coordinator was born. I am, of course, talking about Elaine Glen. Dr. Glen and her accomplices proceeded to impregnate six other women that we are aware of. How many more? We might never know as much of the original documents were lost during periods of civic unrest.”

“A lot of information was lost because of the riots and urban wars,” one of the socio-political scientists on the board of six continued the explanation for the viewers. “We do know that three of the original seven coordinators were killed in hate crimes. The remaining four escaped to the colonies where they cultivated the Plant nation.”

“By the time the Plant Cities were being built, other coordinators had been made. It was a mistake, of course. While it had been just the seven test subjects, the project had still been marginally controllable, but when George Glenn opened up the procedure process to the masses, many doctors who really had no experience working with genetic coding and manipulation jumped at the opportunity to play god with our future. Which, as you know, led directly into the urban wars where hundreds of innocent people—many just children—were killed.”

“Hundreds of new coordinator babies were born at that time, all with varying degrees of genetic manipulation. Few coordinators today know for sure what was done to their gene code.”

“After the urban wars, the Plant government began putting guidelines and restrictions in place. Plant researchers are constantly studying, searching for patterns that will help discover what exactly was done in those chaotic years. This is easier to tell in first generation, when the manipulation is fresh. By the second and third generation, it is almost impossible to locate.”

“And the fascination with Athrun Zala and Cagalli Yula Athha is…?” one of the reporters led.

“Well, Athha-sama is, as we know, a natural-birth human being. That fascination you see is actually with the child she is carrying. Athrun Zala is the direct descendant of one of those original seven coordinators I mentioned earlier. Although Zala's mother was only a first generation herself, Zala's father, former Supreme Commander Patrick Zala was a second generation through his mother, Deirdre Nolan.”

“Right now, many of the first wave of coordinators who popped up before, during, and after the Urban Wars and survived are becoming grandparents to the first big wave of third generations. Zala-sama and one of his contemporaries, however, came ahead of the wave. I am, of course, speaking of the lovely and talented Ms. Lacus Yamato nee Clyne.”

“Plant scientists have been watching these two eagerly since they were children, and neither one has proven to be anything less than impressive. Not to mention high-rating worthy.”

“Now Plant scientists are presented with the looming arrival of the very first fourth generation coordinator, and they are very anxious to study any and all data available.”

“But Orb isn't cooperating?” the other reporter asked.

“Both Zala and Athha are keeping as tight a wrap on their pregnancy as they were on their marriage,” the first reporter added.

“I think it's important to keep in mind, though,” the socio-political scientist spoke up, “that these are two very important people in the world political scheme. I mean, we are talking about the leader of the Orb Nation here. She's not just about to submit herself to a pack of scientists who want to poke and prod her like a lab animal.”

“In this case, however, that's exactly what she is - a container, an incubator, if you will—growing a rare commodity inside her.”

“A commodity? Excuse me, but this is a child you're talking about, not oil.”

“The likes of this child have never existed before. It is the first of its kind!”

“It is not! It is the fourth generation of its kind; it is the first to be born of the fourth generation, yes, but by the very nature of being the fourth generation, it negates your claim.”

“Do Plant scientists predict there to be any problems with Athha-sama's pregnancy?”

“No. They would, of course, like to run a few tests for themselves, but as that has been denied them, they have graciously agreed to cooperate with Athha's physicians in return for data on the pregnancy being released to them after the birth.”

“So, after Athha's and Zala's baby is born, they've agreed to release the data collected during her pregnancy. Why the wait then?”

“Well, there are several possible reasons, but none have been confirmed.”

“Such as?”

“Well, Cagalli has never been known to be a willing and agreeable patient—“

“Or woman overall!”

“And I've heard that on several occasions her husband and staff have had to trick her into attending her regularly scheduled check-ups. If that's true, I can only imagine how much more difficult it would be to get her to any extra appointments Plant's scientists would want.”

“Then there's the fact that we're talking about a relatively young couple who are clearly very much in love and are eagerly expecting their first child together. It should be noted that although one or both are often in the media spotlight, neither has ever actively sought out attention. Both Cagalli Athha and Athrun Zala are honestly private people who highly regard and jealously horde that privacy. In that light, it really shouldn't be a surprise that they would want to keep as much of this pregnancy as close and tight as possible.”

“Okay. That's all the time we have for tonight. I would like to thank my special guests for the evening…”

****

Coup

“Cagalli-sama? Cagalli-sama, please!”

Her body was reluctant to give up its hold on sleep, but beside her Athrun was already awake and rolling out of bed to answer the summons.

“What is it?” she mumbled, ruffling hair away from her face.

“Athrun-sama, my apologies for waking you, but something's happening,” their housekeeper panted from their doorway. “Kisaka-sama asked me to wake Cagalli-sama right away. She is needed at the command center.”

“Can't this wait for morning proper?” Cagalli groaned, but she was already carefully rolling herself out of bed.

“I've already called for your car, and cook's whipping up something easy for you to eat on the way.”

“Chili peppers,” she grumbled as she gained her feet and began waddling towards the bathroom. “And some humus.”

It was almost an hour later when Cagalli and Athrun entered Orb's military command center, alive and bustling like a kicked over ant hill.

“Report,” she barked as Athrun scanned the data display screens candidly.

“At approximately 02:48 this morning, reports started coming in,” the ensign answered swiftly. “We had a little trouble with satellite feed—they were being jammed, but we were able to interface with Zaft's and this is what we have.”

“Where?” Athrun asked, studying the images of burning buildings and what looked like military facilities.

“Earth alliance facilities, world wide.”

“Worldwide?” Cagalli repeated sharply.

He nodded. “From top to bottom of the Americas, clear through the Euro-Asian bases, and down across the African continent. All of the Earth Alliance military bases and supply ports were targeted from what we can tell.”

Cagalli reanalyzed the sight playing out before her. “Have there been any statements issued?”

“Just a repeated message, broadcasting on all stations.”

“Show me.”

It was a piece-meal collection of video and audio clips dating back almost two hundred years.

“Dream the dream: Indivisible.

And the voices of the people shall rise up

Leading the way to a bright and shining future

The path before us has been laid open.

Go bolding into that great unknown.

Seize it with fists clenched in hope

So That one day freedom will ring

With the clear cry. Read my lips:

All men are created equal.

Live the dream.”

“Who's behind this?” Cagalli asked, dry mouthed.

“We've been unable to determine that at this time,” Kisaka told her gravely. “We're currently working with several other governments to try and trace the signal back to its source, but it's overlapped, piggybacking over itself.”

“What's the response from the other governments to this?” Athrun asked.

“About what can be expected. Only the loyal former Earth Alliance military bases have been attacked. Those governments not under direct attack are digging in and barring up their defenses, but right now they're keeping their distance.”

“Treating it as a civil war instead of a terrorist attack,” Athrun deduced. “That's probably best for the moment.”

“Has anyone gotten through to those sites?” Cagalli squeaked, eying the destruction and feeling nauseous. “Are there any survivors? Have they begun rescue search and recoveries?”

“Cagalli, those are military targets,” Athrun pointed out. “It'll be a while yet before anyone can get near them.” He turned back to Kisaka and questioned, “Other than Zaft, who else are we in contact with?”

“We received communications from almost everyone on the network. No one's stepped forward to claim recognition this.”

Cagalli and Athrun shared a worried glance. “Has Commander Joule tried to reach us?”

“He wouldn't,” Athrun predicted. “Not yet. We'll have to contact him first.”

“Actually,” Kira spoke up as he reentered the room. “The Vanguard is the one who sent us early warning. No other message since then,” he added with an apologetic and tired smile towards Athrun.

“Cagalli-sama, you should be sleeping right now, or sitting down at the very least.”

“Prime Minister,” Cagalli greeted the elder man who followed Kira in. “I'm glad you're here. We can divide up our communications.”

“Of course,” Toshihiro agreed readily, “but I must insist you sit.”

She scowled at him, annoyed even more by the knowledge he was right. Her feet were swelling and her ankles were an aching agony. “I will be in my office,” she conceded with a short nod. “Keep me informed.”

Throughout the day, more information trickled in, and, slowly, the picture of what had happened in the night was coming together.

It was too coincidental for the multi-continental attack not to have been carefully planned out. Well in advance, if the result was any indication. And the result was… devastating.

The sharp tooth and strong arm of the Earth Alliance was no more. Remnants remained in scattered patches, and only time would tell whether those remnants would let go of the past easily or not. But there was no question that the Earth Alliance was, indeed, a thing of the past. In an overwhelming coup, the African Union and the United States of South America had risen up and thrown off the shackles of the Earth Alliance. Both nations claimed their autonomy and joined the Euro-Asian Federation in their bid for freedom.

Cagalli was tired and her body hurt, but she refused to return to her home and her bed. Instead she stood and kept vigil in her office as once again, the world she had known changed into something new. Only time would tell if the change was good or bad.

****

Fallout

The Scandinavian monarchy looked older than ever, peering out from the view screen. "You will join the new Union of Nations," he asked, watching her carefully.

"It is our intention, yes," Cagalli replied leaning back against her office chair and rubbing her extended office. “We've been hoping, of course, that something like this would happen, that we'd have this opportunity once more.”

“I am glad to still be alive to see it come true,” the elder man nodded smiling. “Today's people are more willing to accept some peaceful ruling, I think.”

“I don't know how peaceful any gathering of politicians can be,” Cagalli teased, “but I know it's something my father always hoped would make a revival.”

“Rumor would have it, the Europeans are pushing to have the assembly held in Berlin.”

Cagalli frowned. “Have they recovered then, since the last war?”

“Oh, I'd imagine there are still plenty of rough places,” the king responded, “but it would do the city some good, I think, don't you? To have something positive birthed within its walls?”

“I suppose, but we'll have to watch this EuroAsian Federation to make sure they don't make a bid for dominance while the Atlantics are still recovering.”

“True, true. Although, now that the Atlantics' reign has been toppled I wonder just how long the Europeans and Asians will remained allied in one Federation.”

“You think they'll split apart again?” Cagalli asked eagerly, having been unable to make a decision on that point herself.

“I believe it highly likely, don't you? But only time will tell, as always, my dear. And now, when will you be traveling to my lands again? When will I get to see my honorary grandchild?”

Cagalli smiled. “Not for another couple of weeks,” she laughed, wiggling in her chair. “Although, to my way of thinking, it can't be too soon. I'm leading with my stomach here!”

“…CBN news has the story.”

“I'm standing in front of what was just last week one of the North Atlantic's strongest military bases. As you can see, the base has been decimated. Salvage crews are slated to begin working to clear the rubble sometime next week. No word yet on what will become of this area...”

“Good morning. We start today with an update on what has now been coined `Red Tuesday: The Revelation'. Pray vigils were held throughout the night to honor the soldiers killed in action during Tuesday's military upset. Many celebrities and politicians world-wide participated...”

“…We are, of course saddened by the number of soldiers who lost their lives during this chaotic time.”

“Aside from a tremendous loss of life, what we're facing is a serious economic crisis. Many cities and towns depended on those bases as a source of income or employment. Now that source has been destroyed.

“Many people are scared. They're thinking, `The world as we know it has changed,' and they're keeping a tight fist on their money. They're locking themselves up in their homes. We need these people to get out, leave their homes and open their wallets. We can't be afraid to spend money. We need to get it out there, exchanging hands. Go out to the movies, go out to dinner, buy your wife some flowers. The point is to get your money out there, circulating. That's the only way we're going to prevent an economy crash.”

“Can't the governments just print more money?”

“Yes, they could, but we don't want that. It would just make matters worse, depreciating what money we have, making it worth less...”

“In the aftermath of the world wide rebellion, many localized governments are faced with the decision of what to do with the remains. Suggestions have been pouring in from all over. Although popular opinion seems to believe most of the bases will be rebuilt and refitted for future military occupation, many confess to wanting to see the land converted for general public use. Some suggestion include renovating still-standing buildings into schools, community hubs, or market areas. Some suggest turning bases into memorial parks. No one's sure exactly what will happen at this point.”

“Government representatives from around the Earth Sphere have gathered here in NeoBerlin to participate in discussions that many hope will lead to the rebirth of the United Nations.”

“It was ## years ago when a suicide assignation succeeded in killing the home parliament of the United Nations…”

<POWER>

****

Connection

He slipped into bed later and snuggled up behind her, plastering their bodies together, nuzzling her shoulders and neck as an arm weaved around her waist, his hand smoothing over the taunt skin of her extending belly. She shifted against him, murmuring sleepily.

"What took you so long?"

"A few reports arrived that I wanted to look through before coming up."

"Anything that can't wait till tomorrow?"

"No," he answered, caressing her belly and kissing along her shoulder.

She made a noise and leaned back into him. "You really like it don't you," she asked, placing a hand over his against her rounded, swollen womb.

"I love it," he breathed against her ear, causing her to shiver. "I love you." And he shimmied their lower bodies together so she could have no doubt just how much he loved her. "Want you."

"Can tell," she mumbled, turning around to face him. "Love you."

"Yes," he hissed, aiming for her mouth and finding it. "Love you so much," he expounded. "Desperately, maddingly. Want you like crazy. Can't get enough."

"Want you, too," she gasped, sliding a leg over his and hooking him against her. He realized just how little she'd chosen to wear to bed tonight. Still, her pregnant belly pressed between them, a reminder that some things had to be done differently.

He rolled onto his back, encouraging her to take the upper position--it allowed him the freedom to run his hands up and down her sides and back, dig his fingers into tight muscles. With his hands free, he could touch her anywhere, everywhere, and since she became pregnant, Cagalli was more sensitive then ever. He loved how easily he could bring her now, and used their years of experience to do so now.

She'd reached that first peak quickly; rubbing together so deliciously, tauntingly, as her breath caught in choked gasps. He had to coax her fingers from digging into his shoulders, but she willing clasped his hands, and together they maneuvered and joined. He groaned as her warmth slid around him, that silky heat taking him in.

She moved, he moved; they danced an agonizingly slow rhythm, drawing each measure out to its fullest capability. Still holding her arms, helping support her, he coaxed her forward until her could reach the tip of one breast with his mouth. She cried out sharply, and almost collapsed against him, filling his mouth with her need. He responded eagerly.

"Athrun!" she cried his name, incapable of saying more than that.

He understood. He felt the same, every damn time, and if his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied right that, he would have been tasting her name instead.

"Athrun!" she tried again, and he released her breast and pressed his face between the two globes, pressing his face against her heart.

"Go over, Cagalli," he told her hoarsely, turning to lay a kiss against her other breath. "Go over," he repeated before dipping to take that nipple into his mouth and suckle.

And she did, so easily, she slid right over on that second wave, body tensing around his, her hands crushing his as she rode the crest. And when she could remember to draw breath, he stroked her higher, causing her to cry out again.

"Athrun! Oh, god!"

"Yes," he encouraged moving beneath her. "More, Cagalli, more."

She feel back, breaking free from the torment of his mouth, leaving him free the view of her breasts, swollen and excited, hanging full down her chest, just over her beautifully rounded belly. He thrust more sharply, and she cried out, his name both a prayer and a curse as it flew from her lips.

Again and again until her nails bit painfully into his hands, drawing blood.

"Roll over," he instructed, sitting up and helping her back down onto her side. "Here," he continued, dragging one of the pillows down to support her back. "I can..." he begin, moving to support her leg high enough to allow him access from this different angle.

"Yes," she grunted, burying her face against her arm as he drove at her with serious effort.

He grunted in response, the need to fill her completely, again and again, riding him past the point of gentleness.

"Athrun! Please!" she gasped, her breath short and rasping against as she bunched and fisted the sheets.

"Not yet," he pleaded. "Not yet. Just a little more."

She fell back and broke his rhythm, threatened his balance and caught him when he started to topple. "Can't take much more," she mumbled against his lips, pulling him down against her. "Please, Athrun," she repeated, wrapping her legs around his waist and rubbing.

He shifted up, away, just enough--never quite comfortable to be lying fully on top of her with her belly so large--so pregnant. As much as the sight excited him, he feared hurting her, hurting the babies she carried.

"Okay," he promised, searching and finding his rhythm again. "Cagalli," he hissed. "Feels so good."

"You're insatiable," she rasped.

"Never enough," he agreed. "Always want more of you. Only you."

She couldn't respond right away. He'd grabbed her legs and lifted just enough to hit that agonizing point inside her that sent her flying off into another orgasm. He followed just behind and lay panting hot breath across her shoulder and neck.

After a moment, he shifted; her leg fell back down against the sheets. "I think we've had more sex in the last month and a half then we've had in the last year."

He laughed and rolled over next to her, reaching for her hand as they lay in afterglow.

"I blame my wife," he answered finally. "She has this horrible habit of turning me on all the time."

"Sometimes I wish you came with an 'off' switch, too," she muttered but couldn't help smiling.

His hand squeezed hers. "Did I hurt you?"

"Nothing we can't handle. Just tired."

"I shouldn't have woken you."

"I wasn't asleep yet. Don't sleep as well if you're not here."

"I'm here."

"I know."

"Go to sleep, then."

"The sheets are all wet and messy, though." He laughed and pulled her closer to him, but she protested that, too. "You're hot and sweaty."

"It's your fault."

"Like hell it is. You're the nymphomaniac, not me."

****

Afterglow

Cagalli closed the last file on her desk and set it onto the out tray. It was a strange experience to see her desktop free of folders and reports. All other work had finally been rerouted to other desks in other offices, in preparation of the young woman's maternity leave.

She sat there for several minutes, absently rubbing her engorged stomach as she stared at the room around her. This was her office. It would be here for her when it was time to return. No one else would sit at this desk while she was still alive. She would miss it, but she was ready to begin the next episode of her life.

“Gracia, will you call ahead to Athrun and let him know I'm finished here?” she asked her secretary as she started to pack up her case.

“Right away, Cagalli-sama,” her assistant returned brightly, an equally bright smile playing around her lips.

She knew her husband and so wasn't surprised when he showed up before she was quite ready, his own PCP case swung over his shoulder. “I hear you're ready to get out of here.”

“What's the rush?” She tried for a smile, but felt it wasn't very enthusiastic. His smile was at least understanding.

“I made reservations if you're up to a little publicity,” he offered lightly, helping her into her light coat.

The thought of food already had her mouth salivating, and she asked hopefully, “Italian?”

“I thought you might prefer some Thai tonight,” Athrun returned mildly, a grin tugging at his lips when his wife moaned in appreciation.

“Sounds perfect.”

“I do try,” he teased her, darting in to steal a quick kiss.

Cagalli hummed, savoring the essence of moment. “I love you,” she murmured.

“Good. I love you, too. Just got off the link with Yzak,” he continued conversationally, taking and shouldering her bag in an easy, familiar habit. Their fingers threaded together as they left the office and its stressful workload behind.

“Oh? What did he have to say?”

“He and the other ambassadors are encased in a gilded cage, smothered in every luxury and bloated on good food and spirits,” Athrun smirked, wagging their joined hands. “He absolutely hates it.”

“I bet,” she chortled gaily. “So everything really is running smoothly then?”

“For the most part? So it sounds, yes,” he reassured her. “This is all just preparatory dinners and gatherings. though. The real battle of wills begins when the doors open on their first official meeting.”

“He'll keep everyone focused,” Cagalli predicted confidently.

“If he doesn't kill someone first,” Athrun agreed.

****

Dawning of a New Era

The fact that his wife wasn't in any of the areas one might expect an expecting mother to be in wasn't really a surprise to Athrun as he pursued the various rooms of the estate until he found her. That he found her where he did wasn't really a surprise, either, though he might have hoped….

“Cagalli, you're supposed to be relaxing,” he reminded her, entering her home office without knocking.

“I am,” she protested, not looking up from the report she was reading.

“The purpose of not going into work this week,” he reminded her, slipping the folder out of her hands, “is so you won't stress yourself over reports and such.”

“No,” she corrected, trying to snatch the folder back. “It was a calculated move to avoid having to deal with meetings and conferences and annoying people who piss me off under the best of conditions,” she ended with a huff.

With a laugh, he swooped down to kiss her. Her breath hitched, body twitching as it tense up. If he hadn't already been focused on her, he might not have noticed.

“What is it?”

“Tackson's preliminary report,” she said with a noticeable exhale as she made another grab for the report folder. He wasn't giving it back to her though. “Mostly just his impressions of the other ambassadors and his expectations for tomorrow's opening ceremony.”

“Cagalli, let's take a walk,” Athrun suggested, seemingly out of nowhere. He snagged her hands and tried to tug her up out of her office chair. “Just a little bit. You can come back to this later if you really want. Besides, you already know about all that. Do you really need to waste time reading through it again?”

“It's not a waste of time,” she protested, tugging back at him. “I need to be fully informed about the people who will strongly effect the next few years of our lives, if not longer.”

“Cagalli, the doctor also said that some light to mediate activity would be good for you right now,” he tried reminding her.

It hit her in the gut, and before she knew it everything was welling up and out. “I know I'm ugly and fat, Athrun, and—“

She cut off with a stifled cry.

“What is it?” he demanded again, falling to his knees next to her. He pushed her hair away from her face and stared at her suddenly blotched face. “What's wrong.”

“I think,” she wet her lips quickly and stared up at him with large eyes. “I think my water just broke,” she whispered.

“Stop hovering!” Cagalli snapped at him nearly an hour later, flinging her hands this way and that, trying to slap him away.

“I'm not hovering,” her husband protested sulking.

“Yes. You are. Kira, can't you two just go somewhere else for a little bit?” she shot a pleading look at her brother.

Kira lowered the e-book he was trying to pretend to read. “And go where?” he asked with false calmness. He was just as rattled by the impending birth as Athrun, blanching at every contraction Cagalli shared vocally. She was…quite vivid in her descriptions.

“I don't know! Out! Take a drive! Go to a movie! Buy some ice cream! Fly somewhere! I don't care! Just, both of you, leave me alone,” her waspish demands broke into a keening whine, and she ended up pleading. “For at least half an hour. Can't you at least give me thirty minutes alone?”

Athrun immediately protested. “But, Cagalli…”

“I promise not to pop one of these little bladder-kickers out until you're back. Honest. Just a little time. Please?” she concluded, panting and sweaty.

It was a battle, but, finally, with Lacus's gentles urgings combined with the midwife's firm reassurances that it would be a while yet, Kira and Athrun were convinced to leave.

“This is a very private and sacred moment for many women,” the midwife informed them as she shuffled them out of the room. “The important thing is mother and child are comfortable and relaxed as possibly be. You are no relaxing my patient, therefore you go for now. Come back later. We will birth you happy babies.”

And with that, Athrun and Kira found themselves standing outside the door looking helplessly at each other.

“Ice cream?” Kira suggested after another lost moment.

Athrun cast a forlorn look towards the closed door before sighing and turning away. “Sure, I suppose why not? I'll drive.”

“Why do you get to drive?” Kira protested, turning to follow him.

“'Cause I'm the better driver, that's why.”

“You are not!”

“Yes, I am. Plus, I've been driving way longer than you.”

“I'll have you know…”

Lacus dabbed the cool, moist cloth along Cagalli's sweating brow with care, holding the young woman's hand as she breathed forcibly through another contraction. They seemed to be coming closer together, but the midwife reassured them there was still much waiting to be done. “Life is much waiting,” the elder woman told them as she scratched notes onto a record pad. “Hurrying and waiting. Now we waiting, but soon we will be hurrying, you not to worry. Babies looking good, mother looking good. This part just not so fun, hmm?”

Cagalli breathed out and relaxed. “No, not so fun,” she replied tiredly, reaching over for the cup of chipped ice Mana had brought her earlier.

“Not nearly as much fun as making babies,” Lacus added demurely, startling a choked laugh from the laboring woman.

“No, not nearly,” Cagalli agreed, sharing a look with the other woman. Her closest girlfriend. Really, her only girlfriend, she thought after a moment. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Lacus paused and then smiled brilliantly. “You don't have to thank me for anything, Cagalli.”

“Thank you, anyway. Thank you for… everything.”

“That's quite a lot to be thanking someone for,” Lacus teased her lightly.

“You do quite a lot,” Cagalli told her. “I—Lacus, I know…” She licked her lips, swallowed, and tried again. “If something were ever to happen to Athrun or me, I know you would do everything in your power to protect…” Her hands run over her extended stomach.

“Cagalli, don't think of such things,” Lacus told her, reaching forward with the cloth once more.

Cagalli snatch Lacus's hand, startling the other woman again. “What I'm trying to say is, Lacus, you're my friend. You and Kira and Athrun the people most important to me, and now these two here, and Athrun and I talked about it before, but we didn't want to say anything earlier, not until they were born, but… I don't… Will you be their second-parents?” she asked in a rush.

Lacus blinked twice, opened her mouth to say something…and then shut it again as she found herself having to swallow back emotion. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, of course. I would be honored.”

“You and Kira,” Cagalli started nervously. “I know what you've been going through, and I didn't want it to seem cruel or to hurt you, but I really can't imagine trusting anyone else with my children should something ever happen to Athrun or me, and—“

Lacus held her hand through another contraction.

“I'm scared,” she breathed out the confession after it passed, not releasing Lacus's hand, but not looking at the other woman, either.

“Cagalli is one of the bravest people I know,” Lacus told her calmly. “I am very proud and happy to know her and call her my friend.”

“Me, too,” Cagalli sniffed. “Lacus is one the best people I know, and I'm very proud and happy to say she's my friend.”

Lacus leaned forward and kissed her cheek and stayed to whisper, “Now perhaps you will tell me my second-children's names?”

Cagalli laughed breathlessly and playfully pushed her away. “You know it's bad luck to tell anyone before the first breath.”

The other woman huffed a mock pout. “Fine, you remember that when you're asking me to know the name of your second-child,” Lacus told her, fighting a secretive smile.

Eyes widened and mouth fell open as Cagalli stared over at her. “Are you—I mean.”

“Kira and I have been talking with Dr. Crisner. Some before, but more now that she's here for you. And, well, we have a formal meeting with her tomorrow and again in three weeks,” Lacus finally confessed, happy to be able to talk to someone else about her news. “She is optimistic. But if…” Lacus swallowed, “If it is truly not meant to be, well, then, Kira and I have discussed the matter and we've concluded that ultimately, while I would love nothing better that to carry our baby to term, ultimately, we want children.”

“Oh, Lacus! That's--!” Giving up words all together, Cagalli lunged for the other woman and hugged her tightly, crying out a moment later as another contraction rolled over her rather violently.

Lacus helped her lay back, and the midwife moved forward to continue her records, both calmly reassuring her that she was doing well. There was a jaunty knock at the door a moment before Athrun poke his head back into the room.

“Are we allowed back now?” he asked hesitantly, critically observing the scene and torn between being at Cagalli's side where he wanted to be and giving her the space she asked for.

“Good timing, daddy,” the midwife announce. “Come, come. Mother is ready, baby is ready. We will birth us some fine, healthy babies now, yes?” she asked, talking mostly to herself as the two couples were already talking excitedly to each other.

The midwife pulled a communicator from her pocket and contacted her friend and doctor before calmly organizing the two men and women. Birthing babies didn't change much from one child to the next in her opinion, but each was a wondrous miracle she thought as she helped the first babe free from her mother's womb and handed her off to her father. Her assistant was there to help the father clean the babe, take the measurements and fill in the records before showing his daughter to the mother and the second parents. And when that was done, the second babe was ready to be birthed.

The second babe, born eighteen minutes after his sister, was passes off to his second-mother's capable arms, and then it was a matter of clean up for her and the mother. Around her voices buzzed excitedly and two babes cried healthily. She beamed at the thought of another successful birth.

“Well,” Helena Crisner demanded. “What are their names, then?”

“Leilani,” Athrun answered hoarsely. “Leilani and Kirothius Zala Athha.”

Halfway around the world, in the city of Neo-Berlin, representatives from all the Earth Sphere nations applauded as the Second United Nations adjourned for the first time.

=The End=

August 22, 2008