Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Paramount ❯ Paramount ( One-Shot )

Title: Paramount

Author: mao

Disclaimer: GundamW characters, likenesses, and plot lines are property of T.V. Asahi, Sunrise, the Sotsu Agency, Bandai, and the Cartoon Network. The song lyrics come from Bliss 66's song of the same name from their debut album, "Trip to the 13th". The story is mine and you may have it if you ask nicely.

Author's Notes: Ok, this one came not just from left field, but left field four or five parks over. Nothing I do can really explain how this came into being. I'm not even a shipper of this pairing. Maybe it's the two hours of Jefferson Airplane I listened to before writing this...

Warnings: Dead women sending telepathic messages, slight hints of shounen-ai, sexual content.

He saw her at a party. It was one of a million parties given after the war, by one of a million rich politicians or business owners who wanted to gain the favor of those who had been influential during the war and might retain unofficial positions of power in the future. He knew he'd been invited because he had been a Gundam pilot, and he supposed she'd been invited because of her activities in the rebel forces, in bringing about peace. He was still surprised to see her.

And glad.

He would never admit it to anyone else, but he was pleased to see her, pleased to see her hair done up in waves of gold instead of twisted out of her face as it usually was. Her gown was simple, tasteful, and covered each of the modest curves of her tall frame. Black, but picked out with threads that gleamed like stars, and it made her look younger - not that she was so old she needed it.

He found his mind thinking treacherous thoughts, about what it might be like to kiss her, to hold her in his arms, to rip that dress from her pale body, to sleep with her...

He shook his head violently, straightened the jacket of his rented tuxedo, and finished off the glass of champagne he held. He was glad she'd come, if only because she was someone he could talk to. He didn't feel like he could truly tolerate any of the other pilots, except perhaps Trowa, and there was no one else here he really knew. He knew he didn't exactly make it easy to get to know him, but...well, that was irrelevant. And so what if she was a ridiculous woman who had probably spent hours picking out that gown? She looked nice, if nothing else, and she had opinions she backed up and that he could agree with. He handed his glass to a passing waiter and headed in her direction.

Sally had, in fact, borrowed the dress from Noin because she felt she didn't have anything appropriate for the occasion and the other woman wouldn't allow her to show up in a women's tux. She'd grumbled and griped, but finally agreed, as she and Noin had become fairly close in the past few weeks, scraping through the end of the war together, even celebrating Noin's lonely twentieth birthday with cocktails as the Italian woman tried not to think of her lost love. She stood with Noin now, and they watched Wufei approaching.

"Who does he think he's kidding?" Noin murmured to her friend. Sally turned.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you see the way he's headed over here?" Noin smiled playfully. "He has a bit of a crush on you, Sally!" She explained as if the other woman was completely dumb.

"Woman?" Wufei said, tapping Sally on the shoulder. The blond jumped about two feet in the air, startled. When she turned, her face was bright red.

"Yes, Wufei? And it's Sally, not woman," she reminded him belatedly. He nodded, visibly impatient. He switched his weight from one foot to the other, wondering why sweat was beading on his forehead, why he felt nervous. They were simply soldiers who'd fought in a war together, this shouldn't be so difficult...wait, what was that?

"What, woman?" He asked, looking up at her, angry at having to show that he hadn't been paying attention.

"Sally," she informed him patiently, though it felt like the millionth time she'd said it. "And I asked if you would like to dance. I don't intend to stand here all night," she said, ignoring his scowl.

"Very well, woman, if you insist on engaging in such frivolous activities," he grumbled at her, scowling up at her as she pulled him onto the dance floor. Behind his back, Noin flashed Sally a thumbs-up sign. Sally wrapped Wufei's arm around her waist, taking his other hand in her own. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, and they began a slow waltz.

Two minutes later, she found she was constantly looking down on him to remind herself how much older than him she was. She was old enough that it would certainly be awkward if anything happened. He'd told her about Mei-lan, so she knew he'd been married, but that was different. They were both fourteen.

Besides, she was dead, had only been for barely a year and a half. She certainly didn't want to bring up those memories. Good reason to keep away from him, she told herself as they circled the floor, trying desperately to convince herself this was the case.

He twirled her easily, delighting in his strength and her light feet. Mei-lan never would have allowed him to hold her like this. But then...Sally wasn't at all like Mei-lan, was she, for all that they both possessed similar internal strength. He found Sally a hundred times more difficult to provoke, a thousand times easier to like. But for all Sally was sweet and funny, Mei-lan had been his wife.

Had been...no longer. She would want him to move on, wouldn't she? It wasn't like they had loved each other, but surely she hadn't harbored any hatred for him, had she? He certainly hadn't hated her. He simply hadn't understood her, hadn't been ready for marriage.

Silly scholar boy, Mei-lan spoke in his head. Of course I want you to move on. And Sally's a very worthy choice.

They were both strong. But Sally wasn't Mei-lan. He frowned unconsciously at the floor.

"Wufei, is something wrong?"

No, Sally wasn't Mei-lan. Mei-lan wouldn't have asked if there was something wrong; they'd both still been immature enough that she probably would have teased him about looking funny when he frowned.

For some reason, his head, his feet, his soul felt lighter. At the same time, he felt intensely grounded, realizing that though Sally was a good four years older than him, they'd both survived the war, lived through its horrors, and that surely Mei-lan would support his decision to court her. Yes, that must be it, surely.

"Nothing. I was just thinking of Mei-lan," he told her, his smile easy and self assured.

Of course he would be thinking of Mei-lan, Sally realized. They were married for some time before she died, and she was his wife. I can't expect him to forget her just because she's dead. She had been a wild thing, Sally knew, but she couldn't help realizing that he was comparing her to his dead wife. Of course, she asked herself silently. Why do I care?

"I was realizing that she and I never danced like this," Wufei told her, a slight smile wavering nervously on his lips. She realized suddenly the things she wanted to do with those lips, with the hands on her back, with the young man standing in front of her...he was a man now, though he'd been but a boy at the beginning of the wars. He would be turning sixteen soon, and she was barely nineteen. They had a lot in common. He was funny, intelligent, sweet when they were alone together...

But still...four years.

Pedophile.

She sighed as the music ended and inclined her head politely, thanked him for the dance, then vanished.

"Not bad, Chang," Duo said with a grin. "Bagging Sally. A former major, intelligent, and," he continued, eying the fleeing woman's figure, "not at all bad looking to boot." Wufei glared at him, fists clenched in rage, face growing red.

"What are you implying about my relationship with Miss Po?" Wufei asked angrily, his rage mounting by the second. If looks could kill, the American would have spontaneously combusted by now, the pressure of the Chinese's stare so intense. Duo immediately backed off, his grin fleeing his face, replaced immediately by annoyance.

"For God's sake, Chang," he said, crossing himself as he took the Lord's name in vain, "the girl's totally digging you." Wufei looked at him with a mixture of consternation and confusion.

"Pardon?"

"She's into you. She. Likes. You," Duo tried to tell him, breaking the idea down into small words so the other boy would be more likely to understand him. Wufei looked merely annoyed now, his face turning back to the color of a tomato.

"It's not nice to mess with your friend's feelings like that, Maxwell!" Wufei said, dodging out of the way as the music began again and a couple nearly collided with them.

"Why Wuffie!" Duo cried happily, slinging his arm around the other pilot. "I didn't know you felt that way about me!" Wufei realized his blunder too late, and Duo drunkenly placed his lips on Wufei's. The Chinese boy took a huge step back, stumbling into another couple, disrupting their dance, and not caring.

"I...have to get out of here," he said by way of apology. "Never, ever touch me again, Maxwell!" He yelled over his shoulder as he fled the scene, what he had to tell Sally suddenly very clear in his mind.

Sally rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the rising of butterflies and other small insects in her stomach. What had she been thinking, getting that close to him? Clearly this little crush had gone too far. She frowned into the darkness of the hall just outside the ballroom.

She'd never had crushes before, never really had fixations on men before, in general or specifically. Men had never held much fascination for her; there had always been a class to take, a job to do, a life to save. She'd always told herself, later, when there's time, then she could think about men. True, she was just nineteen, but it occurred to her now that she'd almost died in a war, without ever having loved someone. Yes, she'd taken a few lovers at the academy, but those had been brief things, pleasure-less, over before she knew it - and she'd been glad. She'd always been glad to get rid of the men she'd dated. They'd been clingy, they'd been selfish, or they'd been stupid. Usually a combination of all three.

Wufei was hardly clingy, an annoying part of her brain yapped at her. He was more likely to die alone than even ask for help. He was so fiercely independent that it was sometimes annoying, but often sweet that he refused her offered help. She'd had to learn how to manipulate him into either helping her or accepting her help with things.

He could be selfish, but when it came down to it, he was certainly dependable. She could count on him to do things, even if it did mean a tad of manipulation. He was young, and would grow into a fine man, she as was sure of that as she was sure of her hair color. But the age thing...it kept coming back to scream at her. He was too young, it would be wrong.

But if he wanted her, would it be wrong? If he wanted her...

The thought made her laugh out loud.

He heard the light sound of Sally's laughter - a sound that had been engraved upon his soul since the day he had first heard it. He followed the sound into the hall, curious at what - or who - was making her laugh like that. Who? The very thought made him angry. She may not be his woman yet, but he hoped she might be someday, and the thought of her...consorting...with someone else...! His blood began fairly to boil with the thought of it.

But no, she was sitting with her back against the wall, her knees bent so her legs were in front of her face, the two generous slits in her skirt that he hadn't seen before exposing quite a portion of her pale, beautiful legs. What he wouldn't give for those legs...no, he would wait. He knew what he wanted from her, and it wasn't just sex, but also companionship. He would wait until she was ready for the sex. Until she was prepared for that, he wouldn't try to force it from her.

"Woman?" He asked, kneeling before her, his hands planted firmly though gently on her shoulders. "Are you alright?" But she was giggling so hard, perhaps a little drunk. And then he saw it, just a faint glitter, a flash when she tossed her head...a tear on her cheek. As she cooled off, leaning her head forward, bent at the neck, the most down he'd ever seen her, he spoke again. "What's wrong Sally?"

She heard it, in his voice. Something she'd never heard from a man before - the way he said her name, as if she was the most precious thing in his world. As if her name were a sacred incantation, a word to be saved because saying it too often might ruin the power it held. He said it as if he loved her. She flipped her head up, not sure what she was going to say, what she was going to do, but that something was going to happen.

She looked so beautiful, so delicate in that moment, her eyes wide with confusion and understanding, her skin pale in the light coming from under the door near their place on the floor, her hair like the strands of spider web, the tears welling up in her eyes and the one making its way down her cheek. He reached up, gently - for he'd never been gentle with her before - and wiped the tears out of her eyes with both hands, ending up with his calloused hands holding her face in a cup, a light caress.

And then, though he was holding her, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

Though his initial advances had been gentle, soft, polite, even chaste, this kiss was not. She kissed him, and with an intensity unlike anything he'd ever imagined. The passion of it shocked him, nearly knocking him back off his feet. She unintentionally planted a promise in him with her lips, a promise akin to that of a bride's: to honor and cherish, love and obey.

He stumbled backwards a moment later, panting and surprised, eying her in his embarrassment. Sally wiped her mouth, not meeting his eyes, looking at an unsuspecting spot on the linoleum, wondering what had possibly possessed her. And then she felt Wufei's hand on her thigh, warm through the thin knit of her dress.

"Woman," he began, then stopped. "Sally," she turned and looked at him, astounded at the wide smile spread on his face, at the way his white teeth greeted her in a delicious grin. "You call that a kiss? I think I must educate you." And he leaned in again.

Noin was searching for her friend, and she certainly found her, out in the hall, ardently kissing the boy who'd treated her so poorly over the year. Noin felt her old anger at Wufei for defeating her in battle flare up, but she denied it, forcing it back down into the pit of her stomach. She watched them a moment, but realizing how private it was, she left the hall, lying to Une and the others that she had absolutely no idea where Sally or Wufei could be, and there was little chance they could be together.

Sally stopped him as he reached for her panties. His body was clearly ready for this, and he had hands that were obviously more practiced than any virgin's, but she still needed to be sure.

"Wufei...is this ok?" She gazed up at his eyes for the first time, allowing him to dominate her in this alone. And probably only this time, she thought to herself with a small smile. He nodded, his pupils dilated and breath quickened with obvious desire.

"Yes. I've wanted this since I met you." He paused, knowing this didn't sound quite right. "I care for you, Sally," he said, but that didn't sound quite right to him, either. He was going to change it, tell her he loved her, which was certainly almost true, but she must have decided that caring was enough for her, because she smothered his mouth with hers again. When at last he pulled back for breath, she undid his trousers, and they truly began.

Though there was caring in their love-making, there was also an element of danger, the fear of discovery, though, unbeknowingst to them both, Noin had taken care of that problem by saying she'd seen Sally going down a different hall.

Instead, Sally leaned against the wall and allowed Wufei to slam into her, time and time again, until pleasure blossomed in both their minds and they fell, relaxed and still almost completely clothed against the wall.

He felt thoroughly exhausted now, as he fingered a lock of her flaxen hair, marveling at the colors it turned in the dim light. She was so beautiful, he realized as she cleaned up their mess and pulled her panties back up. It was so different from how it had been with Mei-lan. To begin with, Sally had been willing. She had been eager, in fact, had nearly forced it on him. Not that he was complaining. But...what does this mean? He didn't even realized those words had escaped his mouth until she turned to look at him.

She looked tired, like the decision to do this was already hounding her. She looked up at him with the eyes of a deer in headlights, her face tight, and he cupped her delicate cheek in one hand, answering his own question.

"We'll simply maintain a mostly professional relationship until you're ready for something more intricate," he told her. "I'm not in a rush to be married again, and I know we both have careers to nurture. We'll be working together anyway, and I know that you are a strong woman who can maintain a work relationship with me without being carried by your emotions." He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb, and she closed her eyes in acquiesence and trust.

"Yes. We tell no one about this," she said after a moment, and he agreed. He stood to leave - she would leave some time after him, to throw off the possibility that they had been together all this time. She watched him go, wondering what she had gotten herself into, if this was truly an ideal situation to be in.

He was young, yes, but not impossibly so. Besides...I love him, she realized with a jolt. I absolutely want to be with him, and just him, until my days end. With a smile, she stood, checked her reflection in the mirror, and wandered at a leisurely pace back into the ballroom.

They teased themselves that no one knew something had changed, that evening. They pretended no one could see the secret glances, the way he stood close to her, her with her hip jutting out just slightly towards him, the way she deferred to him.

It continued past that party, past that night, into their work relationship. She was the only one who could handle Chang Wufei, the most difficult Preventer out there, the only one he would listen to. Lady Une pretended not to notice that they shared an apartment, and they pretened it was some big secret that no one could possibly know but them.

And every night, he thanked Mei-lan in his prayers. He'd always felt guilty about her death, guilty about the way he'd treated her in life, but as he looked at it now, without her to teach him how not to love, and without her death to both leave him free and teach him to appreciate women's strength, he never would have made it to Sally or been able to tell her that he cared for her. Or, eventually, that he loved her.

Finis.