Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Survival ❯ Anger Management ( Chapter 29 )

Anger Management

 

Whee new chapter… Okay, this is not meant to be a pun on the Adam Sandler movie, though very often my chapter titles are meant in that fashion… and also, chapter titles apply to every scene in some fashion, for the record.

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September 15th 197 - Friday - Barcelona, Spain

Relena grit her teeth as she watched Milliardo step out of his car, cameras flashing.

 

He just couldn't help himself, could he? she thought furiously. I only have a few days left on tour, and he just has to come check up on me like I'm a little girl, destroy the image that I'm independent…

 

And he hadn't even warned her so she could do some damage control. Now she had the options of looking like an annoyed little girl at being interrupted, or accepting his presence graciously and making it look like they got along perfectly and were in agreement… even though he had been against her survey in the first place.

 

She didn't think she had ever had so great an urge to throw something.

 

He just doesn't care, she continued to grouse, even while smiling as though pleasantly surprised… at least the surprised part was accurate. It would have been nice if he could deign to tell me about this little plan of his. The other option was that her brother was oblivious to what he had just done, simply stupid when it came to politics, which she absolutely refused to believe, so his coming to meet her meant that he either had no respect for all that she had accomplished so far, or simply didn't care how thoroughly he crushed her objectives.

 

“Would you look at that,” Jake muttered, softly enough that only she could hear, standing just to her left and behind her. She had watched over enough tapes of her own appearances by now to realize that even his lips weren't moving when he talked to her like this.

 

I need to learn that ability, she decided, continuing to beam. It wasn't hard to smile with her friend's dry tone of voice, but the urge to maim hadn't entirely faded away entirely. Either way, it would be a definitive stress relief to be able to reply to Jake's private running commentary when they were in public… it was far easier to stay relaxed when frustrating situations arose than it had been during the war.

 

“Stay aloof, I'd say.”

 

Her smile became a touch more genuine; Milliardo had surprised them, but they could still run some damage control… and that was probably the best route. Look happy to see him, but make it very clear that her actions were none of his business at the same time, in such a way that it merely looked like professionalism. It should be easy enough… after all, her business certainly wasn't any of his concern, and if he managed to lose his cool on screen, it would probably shine well on her.

 

Courteous, but not in cahoots.

 

She nodded fractionally to tell Jake she agreed; it was good to have someone so close at all times who understood the intrigue games as well as she did. A second opinion was beyond valuable… especially when it looked like her brother was out to sabotage her.

 

“He really is an asshole, though.”

 

She made an amused noise in the back of her throat, and felt more than heard his answering grin. Jake was great to have around even if the situation wasn't frustrating.

 

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Sahara Desert

“You're questioning me?”

 

The blonde man looked entirely unconcerned, if somewhat annoyed. “I already said I'd take care of it. I'd `a sworn it was my due to take care of scrapes in my troop.”

 

Roshan narrowed his eyes at Robby; he had never come to trust the young man, for all his show of loyalty. It wasn't so much because he was suspicious, or even that he was too good seeming, because neither was true. Robby had adapted to their style of life relatively quickly, but many young men did; it was only natural to feel the ease of life when coming to live by their code. Others had changed more swiftly, and not all of them had been pretenders; in fact, Robby's time in the cages suggested more stability, a true conversion. His behavior, both in the cages and outside them, had shown excellent progression, which was why he was charged with his own troop when he had only been out of the brutal desert ghetto for three months. The man had the necessary ruthlessness for the position, tempered by his affinity for selecting the real gems of soldiers out of the mass; he was frighteningly efficient in most, if not all, aspects.

 

It was nothing about his performance that made Roshan wary of Robby, as he insisted on being called. It wasn't even anything he could specifically pin down on evidence, even as the fact was readily apparent. It was just that… the fucker was too good with people.

 

He couldn't logically validate that as a problem, however… in fact, it was a rather large asset. In many ways, Rob's leadership of his troop was ideal, his degree of manipulation of them just right. The degree of possessiveness he had for those under him was somewhat disconcerting, but despite the problem he was now having with that, the benefits seemed to far outweigh the annoyances. They very rarely cared to defy him, as he had made it very… publicly… clear that when it came to disobedience, he found the punishments set down by the code too lax. He openly enjoyed devising his more… creative… reprimands.

 

Roshan couldn't precisely work out why Robby bothered him as much as he did, outside a wariness that refused to fade. He also wasn't entirely clear as to why he had decided to test boundaries today, and over one of Robby's favorites, no less, other than that it had felt right. Now, however, he was facing the troop leader's cool brown eyes and easy stance that belied his strength. He could see what others perceived as a hint of madness in the casual tilt of Robby's head, as if he were only mildly curious about what was happening, and the subtle smile that tugged oddly at the long scar spreading across his left cheek. Robby was almost girlishly pretty even with the scar, and if he didn't know for a fact that the man had received the mark from a nasty fight while trying to rise through the ranks, he would have readily assumed he had either done it to himself or gotten it early on to defend himself from some of the fighters in the cages who were less picky when it came to the fact that it had been months since they could find a woman's company.

 

That smile made some deep part of him shiver, wondering exactly what was passing through the blonde's mind as he gave him that too innocuous air. Roshan had known him long enough to know that one of Rob's more psychotic episodes was not far when that expression crossed his face… the insanity seemed to almost flow off him in waves. Doubt as to how wise this decision had really been flooded his mind, and he found himself loosening his hold on Cory and taking a half step back without any conscious decision.

 

The blonde man's eyes brightened as he understood that he had won even though Roshan had not yet released the young man, and he swiftly stepped forward to grab a fistful of Cory's hair as his leverage to yank the boy out of Roshan's loosening hold. Cory did little more than grimace as his leader practically threw him to the sand behind him in a loose, careless gesture that suggested the boy weighed little more than a fist-sized rock.

 

Robby's boneless, careless grace was one of the more terrifying fighting styles Roshan had ever encountered, which was worse when one considered that it was merely the way he held himself. Standing at perhaps six foot, he was intimidating enough through sheer presence, let alone when he began to move. It felt like he'd just been avoiding the obvious when wondering why Robby made him wary; why was perfectly obvious, the man was touched in the head. He did his work exceptionally well, however, and with obvious enjoyment… so it really was just best to leave him to his own devices.

 

Let his men handle his mood swings. Personally, he never wanted to be nearby when Robby lost what control he had.

 

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Barcelona, Spain

“Milliardo,” Relena greeted easily with a little smile once they were in private. Jake didn't fight the urge to grin; little princess was getting good at hiding her true thoughts. She'd been spitting mad when he first showed up, but he was reasonably sure only he or Dorothy, maybe Mitchell, would have been able to tell. Now, he knew she was still upset, or at the very least annoyed, because she hadn't been in a mood she would come down from easily, but she showed no outward sign of it. He idly wondered how much of that indirectly came from her seeing how he handled public situations. She had commented before on how his face and voice often didn't match, sometimes down to his lips, and he had freely explained… and she had taken what she liked of it and already incorporated it into her repertoire.

 

He really liked the subtle changes she had been making to herself since they had first met… they were all subtle, and it had taken time, but she was changing dramatically all the same into someone who really would outclass the showy Lightning Count. Watching her go from abashed girl to confident woman… it was like watching Lu all over again, in some ways, down to cutting her hair, though of course, Relena's was nowhere near as short as Lucrezia had cut hers down to. That and Relena had already had her obsession with one Heero Yuy, while it would have been about now in her maturity level that Lu had gone crazy about Zechs. And she'd even already gotten past that crush she'd had on him, which he was certainly grateful for; that would have been embarrassing if her brother had ever found out, not to mention troublesome, as Zechs might have directed his overprotective problems at Jake.

 

“Relena,” Zechs returned warmly, pulling her into a hug. “It's good to see you.”

 

“It's good to see you too, brother,” Relena returned coolly, returning the hug, then pointedly pulling away to give him a very level look. Jake made sure his expression was neutral as she asked, “Was there any particular reason you decided I couldn't handle myself?”

 

It was still peculiar to Jake, who had spent so many years with Zechs while he still wore a mask, to see emotion flit through his eyes. Zechs was generally a stoic man, so it was still not a terribly common sight, but Jake could clearly read the hurt, dismay, that flashed across his face. So he really didn't do it on purpose… That was intriguing.

 

Apparently, Relena saw it too… or she was going with a chosen charade; he wasn't sure. “Your arrival reminds them all that I am only seventeen, brother, and by common standard would still need minding.” Her eyes were both sad and accusing at the same time. “I appreciate the thought, Milliardo, but you've just jeopardized the past month and a half of my work the same as if you let Dorothy sweet talk you during a press conference.”

 

Jake focused on the hall behind Zechs, even as he watched the princess. He was impressed that she'd managed to say that with no more than a slight angry flush… and wondered whether that was what she had planned on saying in the first place. It did get the point across wonderfully, as Zechs would be just as mortified by the idea as his sister was by Dorothy's more lewd suggestions, but he hadn't thought her yet willing to spin a weapon so close to her own heart.

 

Apparently, forcing her out of her comfort zone periodically was an even better idea than he had anticipated.

 

Zechs' reaction was mildly entertaining, though not in an overt way, and the siblings continued to argue in the oddly formal fashion that Jake was almost willing to swear was genetic. They really had not been raised together, and he had never been led to the impression that King Peacecraft and Vice-foreign Minister Darlian had been so similar as to raise children to the same quirks of speech. If he hadn't thoroughly researched Relena before going through with his decision to guard her, he would be tempted to believe she only picked up on Zechs' patterns and quickly moved into a complimentary style. The fact that she had been just as she was from an early age made him question his belief that nurture far outweighed nature.

 

She was dominating their little debate, however, with righteous ease. She had been raised as the daughter of a key politician, after all, while Zechs had been orphaned at a young age and turned to the military. Admittedly, the Khushrenadas had taken a major interest in him and he had made an effort to understand political intrigue, but Jake knew Zechs; he had an obnoxious tendency to dance around a subject the way a politician might, but the man was a soldier through and through.

 

…That was at least half the reason watching little Lena push him around was amusing; now that she was becoming more confident, she seemed to have little to no trouble dancing circles around her brother. Of course, he had suspicions that she had been dancing around some ploy around the man all along, but he wasn't about to ask. Relena trusted him, but questioning a person's loyalties was a dangerous game. Maybe he would find out the details eventually… but for now, he was more than happy to simply watch his onetime rival be continually outmaneuvered by a girl four years their junior.

 

Maybe the icy prince would learn some humility, someday.

 

He wondered if he could get away with waking Mitchell up a little early this evening… Zechs was hardly his favorite person in the world, and his nerves were already starting to fray. David's presence had a soothing quality to it that Jake had long ago given up trying to find a logical explanation for, which would be more than welcome. He didn't exactly so much dislike Zechs so much as found him… stressful. He had a great amount of respect for the Lightning Count, but really preferred to take him in controlled doses.

 

Zechs regained control of the conversation before too long, though Jake was relatively sure it was only after Relena had decided to let him, and they began moving back towards the suite the prince had had cordoned off for their use this morning. It irked him to some degree that he hadn't seen fit to inform him that he would be coming, and had made arrangements without his knowledge… this was his realm of control, and Jake had thought Zechs would remember how much ignoring his authority would irritate his ground support. Then again, they hadn't really worked together in that sort of capacity for eight years, and while the pure egotism of Zechs' lack of attention to detail had always driven Jake spare, he didn't honestly expect that Zechs had cared enough to remember the way he worked.

 

Zechs had never cared what actions set anyone's teeth on edge; he was arrogant, and talented enough that he simply got away with it. His superiors tolerated it because of his results, and those beneath him either avoided or worshipped him for it. Jake had been one of precious few whose response had been confrontation, as he had been raised to the belief that object lessons were often the best. He acted out less as he grew older, only later learning the merit of tweaking a stream in a more desirable direction instead of trying to dam a flow.

 

He smirked a little to himself, remembering how easy he was to rile up in his younger years… after Jack had come into his life. He had been telling Relena the truth when he mentioned how he used to have `problems with authority.' I haven't broken anyone's arm without major provocation in years, he noted with some amusement, remembering Lucrezia lecturing him on what did and didn't justify the action… even as she looked mildly amused. Lu had always been a teacher through and through, even when she wasn't trying to be. And really, after handling him and Zechs for years, it was no wonder she never encountered any problems managing the boys she taught down the line.

 

He swallowed. I miss you, Lu…

 

He hated this time of year.

 

Dave was probably expecting to get up early anyway, he decided, trying to dispel the rising tension in his shoulders. His old friend knew how wound up he would get over the next few days even if nothing out of the routine happened, and always made a point to spend more time with him than he usually might. He supposed that Zechs had never come to know him well enough to realize that today was possibly the worst day, other than tomorrow, in the span of the entire year, to put Jacob Miller on the spot.

 

“Jake,” the man muttered after a minute walking.

 

“Sir?” he returned, mildly amused and letting it dance in his eyes. The deference in Zechs' voice suggested he knew that he had pushed the boundary of personal authority a little far, and if he had realized, then that was enough… but it was so rare to see the prince offer a higher hand to someone else that he could enjoy the discomfort flashing briefly across the other's face.

 

The prince's eyes hardened slightly at the return, and Jake didn't bother to hide his predatory smirk. Zechs knew that titles in private, delivered in that tone, meant he was treading dangerous ground. So he hasn't forgotten everything, at least.

 

Object lessons really did stick.

 

He could feel Relena's attention, even though she appeared unconcerned as she turned back, and he flashed her a true smile before focusing back on her brother, letting his body language speak for his mood. He could feel Cassidy shifting, back and to the side, and Lincoln's attention was almost palpable, but well-masked all the same. He felt a flush of pride run through his veins as Zechs continued in his not quite sure of himself air. Very few would be able to pick up on it, but spending your developmental years with someone had a way of leaving yourself open to them, especially when they had already been trained to read others' thoughts at a glance; Zechs' mask had only made him a more interesting challenge.

 

He had good men… They still needed some work, but the potential was all there, and they learned fast.

 

“Happy birthday,” Zechs muttered after another moment.

 

Pride was replaced by ice. No… “You've been talking to Jack,” he returned, feeling numb. Of course… Zechs had never been close enough for him to realize how taboo the act would be. And showing up unannounced like this… “I'm sorry, Relena,” he muttered, meeting the princess's eyes. They weren't here to check up on her. “This all is my fault, apparently.” Focusing back on her naïve moron of a brother, he said, “I would appreciate it if you didn't simply trust anyone who asked a favor concerning me without asking for my opinion first.”

 

Well, okay, he'd said that a little more vehemently than was necessary.

 

Zechs' eyes narrowed, though not in anger. “Everything checked out.”

 

“He's exactly who he says he is,” Jake sneered back. “That's hardly the point.” Why couldn't the asshole have been satisfied with a phone call or email, like usual? I'm only doing something critically important this year, after all.

 

Closing his eyes, he forced a focus on taking a few deep, even breaths. I need to calm down… This was far from difficult to handle, really… he just had a very bad tendency toward blowing everything concerning the man horribly out of proportion. I can do this… He didn't want to, but if Jack had gone to such lengths, tolerating him for a few hours was the least he could do. After all, Jack wasn't really even a vaguely bad person, he recognized that, and after all the years, they both did owe the other something… They just didn't deal with each other very well.

 

…At all.

 

Yet every year, Jack felt the need to make his token effort, even though Jake would much rather drop it as a lost cause.

 

“It's your birthday?” Relena asked quietly.

 

Jake sighed, feeling the strength drain out of him, and gave her a tired smile. “Tomorrow,” he admitted. He didn't mind her knowing… but he generally didn't care to celebrate, and hadn't wanted her to feel awkward about that. He had assumed Mitchell would let it slip to her sometime soon along with the explanation that it wasn't a time he particularly looked forward to, as that was the kind of friend Dave was, helping the relationships near him slide easy, and then this could be done less awkwardly… but this was fine too, he supposed.

 

Relena had that same calming quality to her that Dave did, especially after saving those kids… she was just pleasant to be near. If she wanted to make something out of it, like Dave often did, she knew how to do it without making him feel horrible. Birthdays and holidays were times for family and trust, and he found that Relena fit that definition along with Mitchell now, and some part of him had secretly been hoping that the two of them might contrive some quiet affair once they were no longer on tour, after Monday… it would be right up their alley.

 

Unfortunately, he had once admitted as much to Jack.

 

“How old will you be?” she asked gently, moving just a little into his personal space, and he could smell her… he could feel his mood lifting.

 

“Twenty-one,” he returned, smiling again at her, glad that she had this sway over him… Maybe he could let Mitchell get as much sleep as he would want after all. He had noticed the change in how she affected him after she had rushed to save Caleb while he had been struck by the image of Hans collapsing to his knees sobbing, reliving his own despair at realizing Junior was really gone… after she had swooped in and insisted on taking action to keep the same thing from happening to someone else, and little, untrained Relena had saved the little boy who had looked so much like Junior with her own hands…

 

It had broken him all over again, that night… and she had held him through it, soothed him and stayed a constant warm presence to rival Mitchell… He had never felt so good as he had these past two weeks, and the tension of today was only so bad because it had snuck up on him for the first time in years, because he hadn't remembered to dread it. There was something special about Relena, he had known it before, but it was so apparent now that he didn't want to spend time away from her if he could help it. She wasn't just leaning on him anymore, he was leaning back… and while on a more logical level that bothered him, he couldn't seem to care.

 

And she was going to help him through this too. Some part of his old pride stung that he would need help, but he had long ago realized he could accept it from Treize, then from Mitchell and Lu, and she had already done it before now.

 

Squeezing the hand she had rested on his arm in concern, he smiled again, wanting to let her know that he was alright. “Thank-you.” Maybe this won't be so bad, this time.

 

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Milliardo looked distinctly uncomfortable as Jake finally calmed himself down, and I gave him a pointedly dark look. I was rewarded with a flash of guilt, followed by a suspicious frown that didn't seem to be directed at anything in particular.

 

So Milliardo had had good intentions all the way through… Which only served to confuse me further, but I resolved that I would soon know in any case. Whoever this `Jack' was, my friend obviously wanted nothing to do with him, and the only other thing I had known to distress him was the kidnapping of those children. My bodyguard was a largely fearless man, I understood, which made sense given his capabilities, but he just as obviously had his issues.

 

No one was completely stable, I had come to realize over the past few years. Given the right circumstances, anyone could be toppled. To be perfectly honest, something that could put Jacob Miller in such a state both scared me and made my blood boil, but he seemed to be all right now…

 

As if reading my thoughts, he let out another long breath and opened his eyes, his usual determination back in place. “Well… Let's get going, then.” I nodded and stepped back out of his space, giving my brother an arch look that indicated he ought to lead the way.

 

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Sahara Desert

I finally let out my sigh of relief as we reached our enclosure, releasing my hold on Cory and slumping to the ground against the wall just inside the door; he slid with me, settling most naturally between my legs, his back to my chest. He kept his silence through the exchange and trip back, for which I was grateful; the boy had a cool head. A penchant for trouble and an unassailable ability to tie my nerves into knots, but a cool head.

 

He is one of the things that keeps me sane in this place, even while he drives me to madness.

 

He relaxed the moment I did, following my head, resting his weight back against me now, and I took comfort in the trust, pressing my lips to the top of his head so he realizes that I appreciate the sentiment and return it. He is familiar enough with me to know I need time to calm my head, to untie the knots strung through my heart and mind, and knows that his peaceful presence helps me get through it faster.

 

I like Cory so much as I do because of his easy acceptance of my strangeness, though it makes me wonder how much he really knows. Breathing deeply, I muse, not for the first time, that perhaps it is the fantasy I entertain that he does understand that draws me so close to him, even though logically, I know there is simply no way that he possibly could. Cory is not like me, I know that much.

 

We sit there like that for a while, my heart slowing into its normal slow beat, my mental awareness dimming into a soft fuzz while I simply drink in the tranquility afforded to me here. Cory's weight against my chest is an anchor, pulling me under yet holding me steady in a disconcerting yet entirely pleasant matter. If I had ever been one to indulge in substances, I suppose I would have sought the sort that induced this same lull of existence.

 

It is some time after I have regained my equilibrium and am merely enjoying his company that I hear my friend ask, “You okay, Robby?”

 

I sighed, resting my cheek against the top of his head and willing more relaxation into my body; I want to forget that I am capable of movement. “You scared me,” I mumbled into his hair.

 

“I'm sorry,” he returned softly. “I didn't think the risk was very high, today.”

 

I twitched slightly in irritation. “It was Roshan,” I explained irritably, even while I refused to reengage my muscles. “He's dangerous.” He didn't have the deadly truth of my men, who knew that I played a game with everyone outside our circle, but on some subconscious level he knew something wasn't all that it seemed, apparently. I had done what I could to increase opinions of the notion that I was a violent megalomaniac, but so long as I was unsure of what held him to the belief that I wasn't loyal, there were no guarantees.

 

I was willing to admit that I might be a little crazy, but it was vital that our superiors never learned how hard I was playing them, or we would all be dead.

 

“Sorry,” I grumbled, closing my eyes. I hated this game… the stakes were too high. I couldn't afford to lose, there were too many people counting on me even if I had wanted to. “I'm glad you're okay,” I added after a moment.

 

Cory gripped my leg just above the knee briefly in response, before relaxing again… and maybe it would be alright to sleep off the rest of my anxiety.

 

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Barcelona

When I first stepped into the room and saw him, I suppose I was shocked.

 

This was not to say that the man was unusual in any fashion; in fact, he was quite the opposite. Standing at roughly 5'7, he was dressed in comfortable but neat dark jeans and a dark turtleneck with boots from some military or another. He looked to be somewhere in his late thirties to mid forties. His eyes were a rich milk chocolate and almond-shaped, his hair a darker brown and styled a little wildly. His skin was a soft olive bronze. There was just a hint of stubble on his cheeks, but it didn't look so much like he forgot to shave as it simply gave him that rugged, distinctly manly air that Dorothy liked to go on about. While I was not attracted to him, he was definitively handsome, and his muscular stance spoke of balance and confidence… he hadn't bought those boots at a surplus store, they had been issued to him.

 

No, his appearance didn't surprise me because he was outlandish in any way; in fact, I didn't think I would be able to pick him out of a crowd. What threw me for a loop was how this man that had Jake wrapped up in nerves was so very ordinary. I knew how fearless my friend was, and had, quite frankly, been expecting a monster, not this kind-eyed, middle-aged man who looked to be of mixed Asian-Mediterranean descent.

 

His eyes lit up with easy pleasure when we came in, and he directed a smile at my brother and I first, cordially muttering our titles in greeting, before focusing his attention on Jake. His voice was deep and slightly accented, though I couldn't pin down the source of the nuances from so few words.

 

“Jack,” my bodyguard muttered politely. He appeared to be casual on the surface, his stance relaxed, even, but I had seen him truly laid back, and there was an underlying… readiness here. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was different, because he was mimicking his own body language perfectly, but somehow I could tell that it was mimicry.

 

The man, Jack, grimaced slightly, but didn't make any sort of enlightening comment as to why. “Hey Jake, how've you been?”

 

“Busy,” Jake returned in an offhanded sort of way, leaning against the now closed door. “Shouldn't you be working?”

 

“I took the day off, and I don't work weekends.”

 

“You shouldn't have bothered.” Jake's tone was still politely friendly, but the message was clear.

 

Jack raised his brows, but instead of rising to the bait, he merely said, “Happy birthday.”

 

“Thank-you.” His smile was superficial, but looked as though he might be trying just the same. “Was there anything else?”

 

Jack scowled, getting annoyed. “I came to spend some time with you.”

 

“I can't skip out on my duties, sorry.” His head was canted to the side, his smile a touch sheepish, his entire body screaming a sort of helpless shrug and `sorry, nothing I can do to help you' air.

 

The eyes narrowed. “Your superior didn't think there would be any problems if I tagged along for a while.”

 

“Milliardo was misinformed,” Jake returned easily, and I blinked; I was pretty sure that that was the first time the man had called my brother something other than Zechs, despite nearly everyone's dismay at the way he insisted on the old pseudonym.

 

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, bringing a hand up to his face. “Why do you always act like this?” he asked wearily.

 

“Because you can't seem to respect my opinions,” Jake returned sourly, crossing his arms. “You knew I wouldn't approve you coming here if I'd known, but you still tricked my friend into bringing you and compromising another of my friends' political maneuvering.”

 

“Jacob, I haven't heard from you in years,” the older man snapped, glaring now. “You don't answer my calls, you don't return my emails, hell, I was just reading the obituaries for months after Libra until I finally managed to get David's number and heard you were still breathing!”

 

“If I don't want to talk to you, that's my business,” Jake returned coldly.

 

“God, Jake, I just want to spend some time with you sometimes, alright?” Jack seemed more tired than anything now, bringing one hand to his face again. “I know you don't like me, but I still care, even when we don't agree. Throw me a fuckin' bone now and again, will you?”

 

And Jake sighed, suddenly looking just as tired as his visitor. “Why can't you ever try doing this some other time of the year?” he asked. “Why not the spring, or the summer, or if you have to be sentimental about it, how about Christmas? Why always this time of year?”

 

“I didn't think you'd have me for Christmas,” Jack returned darkly, the glare back in place, though his stance was more defensive now.

 

“I actually wouldn't mind Christmas,” the blonde man argued mildly, rubbing at his forehead. “Not that that's an invitation to show up uninvited, but if you'd just leave me alone in the fall, I wouldn't be so against having any plans with you, old man.”

 

I frowned. Old man?

 

Jack grimaced slightly, but he seemed happier too. “I'd like that,” he returned quietly.

 

There was silence for a moment before Jake let out another sigh. “Well, you're here now, I guess, you might as well stay. I trust Zechs already made arrangements?” At his nod, he nodded a little to himself before turning to me, nibbling slightly at his lower lip. “Alright. You've already met Mr. Peacecraft, but this is the princess, the woman I have the honor of protecting, Relena Darlian-Peacecraft.”

“A pleasure,” I greeted, stepping forward to shake Jack's calloused hand. He smiled, and those friendly eyes shone thankfulness my way, probably for simply dismissing the scene I had just witnessed, and I returned the smile. There was something familiar about his grin, though…

 

“Relena,” Jake continued with the introductions, “I'd like you to meet Jack Miller.”

 

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Tirana, Albania

“We should see a movie,” Marlé suggested idly, kicking her legs in a bored fashion.

 

Odin shrugged, nibbling at the `drumstick' ice cream. It seemed bizarre to liken a scoop of vanilla ice cream, coated in chocolate and nuts and placed on a waffle cone to chicken, but Marlé had a point about it being good. “We can't leave until we finish here,” he pointed out.

 

“I meant after,” she explained easily, staring up at the ceiling with a faraway look.

 

He shrugged; they had already checked for all signs of Leia in this city, and he supposed it was an acceptable enough way to spend the evening, if that was what she wanted to do. “I've never been to a movie theater,” he admitted.

 

“Not once?”

 

He shrugged. “I was never very interested… and when something intrigued either my father or myself, we simply downloaded it.” Thinking about it a moment longer, he added, “So many people close together, in the dark, without any security worried him too much.”

 

She bit the inside of one cheek. “From what you've said, I don't think he would have wanted to go in unarmed, either.”

 

He smirked a little. “Odin could get a rocket launcher through colonial port security,” he admitted.

 

“They don't really look through the checked baggage, I guess,” she noted.

 

“That was carryon,” he contradicted. “He disliked the idea of anyone else handling our things.”

 

She looked over at him questioningly. “He carried a waffle iron through carryon too?”

 

“Port personal often remarked that he was somewhat eccentric.” Shifting slightly, he added, “The iron came apart, and the casing was shielded… While traveling, he kept my gun in it.”

 

She pursed her lips. “Yeah, I would never think to look there,” she admitted.

 

“He was a very creative man,” Heero agreed. Offering her the ice cream, she took it and started to nibble at the confection herself.

 

They were in a Laundromat, sitting on top of two currently unused dryers, watching the majority of their clothes swish through soap through the clear plastic pane on the washer in front of them.

 

It's the simple, mundane things that really make life worth it, Odin mused, watching the soothing swirl of water and fabric. He had not felt this kind of peace since before Odin's death, and perhaps not even then, he was willing to admit. Despite the horrible state of the world and abounding dangers, life while traveling with Marlé was… pleasant. Content. This was what I was fighting for, he decided, reaching out a hand to take the ice cream back. There was no questioning it any longer… this was peace, despite the strife.

 

His sister took one last nibble of ice cream before passing it. “What are you thinking about?”

 

He considered how he wanted to answer. “The definition of happiness,” he declared after a moment, licking a dribble of ice cream before it could reach his hand.

She smiled, looking back up to the ceiling. “Anything conclusive?” she asked

loftily.

“I believe so.”

 

The girl made an amused sort of noise in the back of her throat and didn't press him, which in turn made him smile. He liked how she made him comfortable for no reason at all, beyond her company.

 

“Odin?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“…That isn't the woman who put her stuff in the dryer ten minutes ago.”

 

He glanced in the direction Marlé was frowning in… and she had a point, he doubted the scruffy looking woman was of any relation to the harried but tidy mother of three who had momentarily run out.

 

“She's just trying to take their clothes,” Marlé muttered, aghast.

 

Odin considered, glancing back at their washer. No one would want them until they had at least rinsed, he decided after a moment. And it wasn't as if they were leaving the building. Shrugging a little, he stood up, flicking his eyes back in the direction of the woman hurriedly shoving the somewhat dry clothes into a laundry basket… to which Marlé stood on top of her own perch and casually bounded over to the other aisle.

 

He smirked a little, following around the long way. They hardly needed speed or the element of surprise with this situation, the woman was harmless, but he did appreciate Marie's exuberance. She was doing the right thing… she could go all-out if she wanted to. He knew full well how good it felt to get one's blood moving quickly, and Marie could use the practice.

 

I should start trying to show her parkour soon… She was becoming agile enough with their dodging and ambush games that some of the more basic movements would come easily now. Her marksmanship was moving along quickly as well, and he was starting to debate whether it would be worthwhile to get her her own gun…

 

“Excuse me, but that's not yours.”

 

Odin felt a warm feeling spread through his chest at the polite words; Marlé knew the worth of restraint. Make no bigger a scene than necessary. The last thing they wanted was undue attention.

 

“Mind your own business, brat,” the woman sneered dismissively, starting to move past her.

 

Marlé firmly stepped back into her path. “Mind your own, and put that family's things back in the dryer.”

 

The woman sneered again, and started to mutter darkly in the local language before reaching out to grab at the young girl's wrist.

 

Marlé looked incredulous as she fluidly avoided the grab, seemingly shocked that the woman would even try. He simply shrugged when she looked to him disbelievingly, which caused the dark-haired woman to look back over her shoulder then jump when she realized he was behind her. When she continued to stare at him fearfully, he raised his brows in a silent question; really, Marlé had already covered what they wanted, there was no need for him to put in the effort of calling her out as well; it was obvious enough that he agreed.

 

She huffed in obvious annoyance and stormed past him, slamming the basket down on top of the washer in an idiotic display of temper. He supposed, however, if one was powerless, maybe those little things helped… and while he was busy considering her as completely non-threatening, she kicked him.

 

His leg exploded in pain and he grit his teeth as his vision dimmed and blurred. It was just another of those stupid little tantrum movements, but it hurt, the whole of his injury flaring angrily, she'd managed to hit one of that spots that were pure scar tissue after the third degree burns. The throbbing contrasted harshly with his heartbeat, and it was taking him a few moments to regain his bearings, even though he had kept himself from visibly flinching.

 

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him, and he shook his head a little, lips twitching into a slight smirk as he disassociated his mind from the pain. I probably deserved that. Dismissing her as he had, she had certainly opened his eyes, however accidentally. A blow to one's pride periodically was healthy, really.

 

“You-!” Marlé snarled, and Odin caught hold of her before she could finish the movements he had taught her for attacking, allowing the woman to scurry away unhindered. His interference caught her off guard, and she wasted a moment staring at him in confusion before countering his hold and breaking free, which made a warm feeling spread through his stomach that he decided to embrace instead of ignoring with the pain; Marlé had proven herself a fast learner, and on top of her proven competence she was only trying to defend him in the first place. She cared…

 

They were as much of a family as he and Odin had been, before Odin died. That was good too, following in his father's footsteps; it was just very right somehow. Marlé's entrance into his life had fulfilled him in ways he hadn't realized he could ever need to be… And he mattered to her too, she looked up to him much the same way as he had to the first Odin.

“It's not worth it,” he explained quietly as the woman slammed the Laundromat door behind her. “If there's nothing to be gained, it's best to let the problem go.” Reaching out and pulling her to him slightly in a motion that had started to become familiar, easy, over the past few weeks he added, “If your emotions rule you, then strangers can dictate your actions. It's a bad habit.”

 

“But you follow your heart, your emotions,” she protested.

 

He smiled slightly to hear Odin's words quoted back to him, as he had quoted them to her. “You would have regretted hurting her, Marlé,” he reminded her softly. Mariemaia was a compassionate soul in a great number of ways; a sign that she had been raised properly, in his opinion. “Temper isn't always heart.”

 

The girl let out a sigh and nodded in understanding, resting her weight against him briefly… before pulling away to put the clothes back in the dryer. He smiled again as he watched her… and turned to lick at the ice cream before it could dribble onto his hand.

 

-

***

-

 

Barcelona

“I thought you said he didn't have any family.”

 

Mitchell grimaced a little at my pointed question, glancing obliquely over in the direction of the two men we were talking about. “Jack doesn't count.”

 

I gave him an annoyed look, though I made sure to keep my voice down. I was confused and wanted some semblance of an answer for the strained relationship I'd been witnessing all day, but I didn't want to make a scene. This was obviously hard enough on Jake as it was without my meddling.

 

But I didn't want to be left in the dark, either. “They are related, though?”

 

Again, that grimace, as though something had left a sour taste in his mouth. “Yeah. Technically speaking, they're father and son.”

 

“Technically speaking,” I returned flatly.

 

“As in half of Jake's genes come from him,” my secondary bodyguard returned just as flatly.

 

I frowned. “Why are they like this?”

 

He scowled this time. “Because taking you away from the man who raised you doesn't validate respect, no matter how much blood you have in common.”

 

Realization dawned. “Jack didn't raise him.”

 

“He was in jail until Jake turned eight,” Mitchell confirmed. He bit his lip. “How's he been holding up?”

 

I frowned. “He's been mimicking being casual.”

 

My friend chuckled, amused. “Oh, you can tell now…” He shook his head a little. “How irritable has he been?”

 

I gave that some serious consideration. “I'm not sure… I think I've seen him worse some mornings when he didn't get enough sleep.” Looking into Mitchell's face, I explained, “He's not as obvious about it, but he's still talking.” That was something I had learned over the course of the tour… When Jake realized he was being an ass for no reason, he would stop talking as a form of damage control. He even managed to smile while doing it, to pass off a different impression, but if he was silent, he was either exhausted or annoyed beyond belief. Even when entirely focused on something, he had a habit of muttering under his breath.

 

David frowned. “He hasn't gone quiet?”

 

“Not like he usually does, no.” Expecting the news to relieve the man, I became suspicious when he continued to look uncertain. “What?”

 

“Well, either you're amazing, or this is going downhill a lot harder and faster than I thought it was.”

 

Deciding to just ignore the compliment I normally would have protested, I focused on the point of the comment. “How can him talking be bad?”

 

“Uh… you didn't know him when he was younger,” David muttered almost incoherently, running his fingertips over his palms in his own variation of clenching his hands. That made my stomach drop a little more; the gesture or shift in speech by themselves would have been telling enough, but the two together… part of it was probably that it revolved around his best friend, but all the same…

 

“How is Jacob not going quiet potentially bad?” I guided once he didn't seem inclined to continue.

 

He bit at his lip slightly, not looking at me. “He started doing that because Noin asked him to, Relena.”

 

“Asked him to what?” I asked, starting to feel oddly numb.

 

He chuckled a little darkly, rubbing at his arm. “To not be happily laughing with someone, then snapping their bones a moment later.”

 

“What?” The idea just… didn't quite work.

 

“He's very different now, he changed a lot as he grew up, Relena,” Mitchell was explaining rather quickly now. “You know the man he's become, and he's alright, but…” He bit his lip. “Relena, I want you to promise me that if he starts acting a little out of sorts, you stand back.”

 

“You did not just suggest what I think you did,” I hissed back at him, instantly furious.

 

“No, he wouldn't hurt you,” Mitchell negated. “But it would make it all worse.”

 

I frowned. “Worse how?”

 

“…I really hope there's never any need for an explanation there, Lena.” He was biting his lip again, looking in the direction Jake and his father had gone in. He seemed to consider for a moment before adding, “Probably the most important thing you can do to try to keep him calm, is don't give Jack any excuse to disapprove…”

 

“Disapprove?”

 

“Of anything Jake might value,” Mitchell elaborated. “If it looks like it might be heading that way, try to redirect… and if you can, stay close enough that Jake can smell you.”

 

“…What?”

 

“It helps him from feeling like he's being backed into a corner,” the soldier explained blithely.

 

I couldn't decide how to react to that… “He smells people?”

 

His lips twitched a little. “You can't?”

 

“Maybe if they need a shower,” I retorted, trying to figure out if I was offended or not.

 

“You have a nice smell,” Mitchell protested, apparently seeing my dilemma. “It's… soft.” Gesturing slightly, he tried to describe what he meant. “Sweet, but still soft like rain.”

 

“…Soft like rain,” I repeated, bewildered.

 

“You seriously can't smell pheromones?” He was… almost petulant, now.

 

“Pheromones.”

 

“Everyone has a scent,” he tried to explain, though he was almost whining, since I obviously wasn't buying into what he was telling me. “Everybody's is different, same as, like… fingerprints. It's signature.”

 

“Signature.”

 

He made a frustrated sort of noise that was almost… cute. “You never wanted to hold something of your mom or dad's close when you were little, because taking a deep breath while you had it in your arms just made you feel good?”

 

I frowned. “I have…” I hadn't ever really tried to think about why beyond appreciation of the sentiment, but it was hard to remember.

 

David rolled his eyes in an exasperated fashion and started down the hall, gesturing for me to follow. I shook my head a little, mostly just amused at this point, and followed him… down the hall to where Jake and Jack were muttering quietly at each other. My bodyguard looked more sad than anything… and tired. Seeing him like that, I decided that Mitchell really had to be overreacting, and relaxed from tension I hadn't even realized I possessed. Today had been so stressful for him, for reasons I didn't understand anywhere near enough of to possibly begin to alleviate them…

 

“Oi, Jake, what does she smell like?”

 

…He did not just… Oh my God, I'm going to die of embarrassment…

 

Jake blinked in apparent surprise, but before all the blood in my body could pool in the vicinity of my face, he returned, “Rose water.”

 

I blinked at him, and glanced back at David to see him nodding thoughtfully. Okay… Maybe it wasn't that embarrassing, all things considered… it actually sounded more like a compliment.

 

The exhaustion was falling away from Jake's appearance now as he turned to David, looking vaguely amused. “What did you say?”

 

“I said she smelled nice,” the brunette defended.

 

“`Soft like rain,' is a little vague,” I noted, crossing my arms.

 

“Soft and sweet is good, that's just… common sense,” the soldier continued to whine.

 

“Let it be known that Lena is hardly a poet,” Jake muttered dryly, his eyes dancing.

 

“How can something smell soft?” I argued, deciding I didn't mind not waning into the impracticality of poetry.

 

“Pheromones don't smell like normal things, most of the time,” Jake explained, shrugging a little. “The general words you use don't match… most people only put together that maybe someone smells `nice' or `dangerous,' cold or intoxicating. It's…” He waved a hand slightly. “Subtle. Even out of the people who can consciously smell them, they usually only learn to recognize a few in their lifetimes.” His contemplative sort of smile widened into a smirk as he gestured at his friend, “Dave here is a damn dog though, he could track someone by a coat they've been wearing if I told him to.”

 

Mitchell rolled his eyes, though he was obviously grinning at the praise. “I cannot…” Looking back in my direction, he explained, “I can recognize someone by their scent if I've met them before, and I can tell whether or not a coat,” at this he glared half-heartedly at Jake, “-belongs to a person I've met, but I can't follow it through the damn air.”

 

The blonde man shook his head a little. “I'm not that good with it,” he elaborated further, meeting my eyes again. “I can differentiate and put words to it better than Dave, but I have to sit and really think to get more than an acknowledgement of whether someone I like or not is near me.”

 

“What do I smell like?” Jack asked, seemingly bemused. I frowned as I noticed his son's dark blue eyes darken slightly as he very neutrally looked back to the man.

 

“Pepper,” he related in that purposefully easy voice, even as all the relaxation drained back out of him.

 

David nodded in agreement. “A little stark, none of the usual musk, which is strange on its own, and very attention-getting.”

 

“Attention-getting?”

 

Jake's oldest friend bit his lip as he tried to address my question. “Like… almost impossible to ignore. It dominates, covers up or changes all the scents around it.”

 

“Invasive,” I scarcely heard Jake mutter under his breath, shifting uncomfortably. Either it was quiet enough that Jack couldn't hear, or the older man was ignoring the comment… And I decided to try again what I had done earlier.

 

I stepped ever so slightly through the borders of my friend's personal space.

 

He inhaled deeply, though not in an overly obvious way, and seemed to relax a little, some of the usual light coming back into his eyes. Huh… I could see Mitchell smiling just a little smugly from the corner of my eye and lowered my jaw slightly in acknowledgment, to which he tilted his head in a fashion that meant he was supremely proud of himself…

 

…When did we all learn to have full conversations with movements most people would never notice?

 

Leaving that thought for later contemplation, I turned an apologetic smile on Mr. Miller. “I'm sorry, but there are a few points I need to go over with Jake that are of a confidential nature before dinner with the Iberian Council… We'll see you for breakfast, won't we?”

 

The fact that my friend was trying so hard to mask his delight at my impromptu escape was incredibly amusing, even if it was sad.

 

-

***

-

 

Amsterdam

“`Say, say oh playmate, come on and play with me, you and your dollies three…'”

 

Chaos watched Melissa bounce Renee on her lap, keeping the baby both entranced and giggly as she held fast to the woman, her tiny hands fisted around his girlfriend's index fingers. It was a cute scene, especially since Renee had been born with a full head of golden blonde hair that was bouncing about with her, and the child had the rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes they gave all the babies in fairytales. Rina and Luc were at their respective workplaces, and Renee had woken up maybe an hour ago, and was finally getting to the age where she did slightly more than eat and sleep.

 

And she loved the attention showered on her by the Devils.

 

“`Climb up my apple tree… Slide down my rainbow, and through the cellar door…'”

 

She had been able to hold her head steady for a little while now… and he had mostly gotten used to the child's constant flush… but…

 

“`And we'll be jolly friends, forever more… more more!'” The baby giggled more as Melissa bounced her a little harder for the last two words, and the Dutch woman smiled broadly, leaning forward to rub noses with her. A few of the other Devils laughed or offered some amusing commentary, to which `Liss alternately rolled her eyes and laughed. “I haven't had a good excuse for that one in years, come on,” she protested after a moment, switching back into Dutch. Turning to him, she asked, “So, Kay, our English expert, did I say anything wrong?”

 

Duo smiled a little weakly, but shook his head. No, the rhyme had come out fine despite the heavy Dutch accent, but that granted it a more musical quality that he had liked.

 

Melissa frowned, though she kept bouncing her knees slightly, keeping the baby occupied. “What's wrong?” she asked softly.

 

He grimaced slightly, shaking his head a little… though he did wonder how many kids from his particular colony cluster had heard that version of it. He remembered wanting to throw up the first time he had heard a pair of little girls singing it while playing some sort of clap game…

 

-

`Say, say oh playmate,

I cannot play today.

My dolly's got the beets,

You'd better beat it too!

Let's hit the store now,

They'll sell us Icie there,

And we'll be jolly friends,

Forever more!'

-

 

…He was glad to know the rhyme had a different version, as he had almost bolted when she started. It was kinda cute, when it wasn't about the plague that had killed almost half of L2. With all his god of death talk as a child, he had never quite had the nerve to admit to Father Maxwell how much the rhyme bothered him. And while he hadn't heard it in years, he had realized how much of an issue it still was when the overwhelming urge to lose his stomach struck at the beginning words.

 

Melissa's version, with that sing-song accent her English always carried, didn't quite calm him down… but it was mostly okay. It was like when Renee had been laughing or screaming too hard, so she turned the same bright red that had been the sweating signature and rash of the deadly fever that had once killed two out of three. Solo had been the last of the older kids in their crew to catch it, leaving him in charge of the other four who survived…

 

He started when Melissa touched his arm, frowning and offering Renee, who he took without really thinking about it, then smiled as he realized `Liss was offering her out of sheer distraction. He made a few faces at her before passing her back, muttering to his girl that he was going to go for a walk.

 

It wasn't until he was outside that he realized he didn't know why he wanted to walk… It wasn't until he was almost a block away that he realized that walking wasn't cutting it, and he broke into a run. Soon enough, his hair was whipping out behind him like a banner and he was just letting his feet guide him…

 

He slowed as he reached the waterfront, coming to a walk as he reached the railing and gripping it with both hands as he looked out to the docked boats. Twilight had been coming to pass as he left the den, and the business for the day was done…

 

…The water was both soothing and horribly upsetting at the same time.

 

Feeling his heart clench in his chest, he turned away from the railing even though his chest was still heaving and began to run again without any real aim, deeper into the parts of the city he didn't know so well because it had been Slinger territory before…

 

…Has it really been more than two months since I took them down?

 

He stumbled and his shoulder bumped into a wall… he was in an alley. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, sliding down the thing into a crouch before giving into the fact that he needed to rest and settling his back against the stone. He tilted his head back before opening his eyes to stare at the night sky…

 

…It was so damn blue.

 

Duo's breath caught as that clicked, as he realized he was looking for the half-light reflections twinkling the city lights back at him off the dimmed panels on the mirrored hub of the inner wheel… Why the view of the ocean made his stomach twist…

“God damn it!” he found himself muttering hoarsely, slaping a hand against the ground. “This isn't fair…” In just one more week, I'll have been in this city for a year… Why can't I get away? No matter what he did, it kept coming back to haunt him, now almost as much as when he had first arrived… everything he came across reminded him of something from the past, even as he settled in deeper and started to really… to really get happy…

 

He closed his eyes again, grinding his nails into the dirt. He had been here for a year, and everything was so different… He was taking care of people in a completely nonviolent way, which was nothing like he'd ever done before… He was helping take care of a church, though otherwise he would willingly admit the parallels to Maxwell. He was, like, everyone's big brother, both with the church kids and the Devils, especially Rina and Amos… He constantly saw the parallels between Luc and Solo, but that really was separate in its own way because Solo had been so young, and he knew Luc like the back of his hand while he had just followed Solo like the beacon of light that he was without asking questions. And then there was Melissa…

 

Melissa… Some days, it was starting to feel like `Liss was what made his world go `round, almost the same way Prof. G had, only not in that sadistic, `work your ass off or they'll never find the body' way. She just… was this necessary component of his life somehow, going without her would be like trying to run a combustion engine without some kind of radiator, only that didn't make sense, he'd she'd only been there for the past year and he'd only started to need her on some level since May…

 

Almost four months… he mused. Been going out since June sometime… Only a three months max, but it felt like it had always been like this, now… Shaking his head a little, he rose to his feet, sighing and looking up at the sky again…

 

It looked so flat.

 

Why couldn't he just forget already? I have a whole new life… Why won't the old one just stop haunting me?! Was it really like had told the Father, all those months ago, that his slate could never be wiped clean? He had started to believe he might be wrong about that, with the way life had gone, that everything could simply be made new, but the sky was still empty, Sister Isabel still looked like Helen, he still had nightmares conjured from the events of the war and before. Sometimes it just made his blood boil, because… Damnit, aren't I trying hard enough?! Am I just not good enough? He glared at the wall in front of him, gripping his hands into fists again. No matter what he said, what he felt like sometimes, he knew that he deserved all this, it certainly wasn't perfect but this life was his, and God himself wasn't going to find some loophole to steal it all away this time! With that last thought, he stepped forward and slammed his fist into the wall…

 

…Okay, that was just stupid.

 

Muttering darkly and shaking his hand out, he couldn't help but laugh a little at the stupidity of the whole bit, freaking out for no reason whatsoever and running his ass all the way out to… well, wherever he was… Ah shit, that is not bleeding… Man, of all the things I had to get pissed at and deal one to, I pick a wall? I am so losing my touch…

 

“Oh man, that hurts…”

 

-

***

-

 

September 16th 197 - Saturday - Barcelona

Relena smiled as she shook hands with Senator Delgado in farewell, and her pleasure was genuine. Really, this tour had been nothing but success, even if it had been heavily intermixed with nauseating amounts of red tape and pure chaos. She had had more fun than she had imagined possible despite the difficulties, and felt like she could take on the entire world if she had to… which was an incredibly breathtaking feeling. It wasn't all ideas now… it was actually spinning into reality. It wasn't a concept anymore… it was a full-fledged endeavor with achievable goals, however far-reaching.

 

Just the same, however, she was glad to be going back to the base on Monday. They would be in Paris in a few hours and dive into that pit, while Milliardo headed to L-3 half an hour before she was slated to depart, taking his unwelcome influences with him. Jake had managed to lose most of his tension after they parted form Jack's company last night, and even though he was wound tight as a spring again now, she had seen enough of the shifting to be sure that Mitchell's warning about their friend didn't hold water. She was still doing her best to follow the advice he had given because the efforts obviously calmed the blonde man, but it had nothing to do with fear.

 

Mr. Miller was going to finish his weekend in Barcelona before returning to his vocation… which she actually hadn't asked about. Smiling at another delegate and making arrangements for further communication, she considered that, realizing how strange it was that she hadn't thought to ask…

 

…or that she really just didn't care what the man did.

 

Dorreane's assistant, Juan Colello, made an amusing slur about one of the people he worked with on a daily basis that she chuckled at when normally she would have just smiled, because really… she didn't mind Jack Miller. He was a nice enough man, she just…

 

…really couldn't make herself care.

 

He had hurt her friend, that much was clear, and while in some corner of her mind she was muttering that it wasn't fair of her to base her opinion off of that, she couldn't come up with a single reason to put forward the effort. It was an odd feeling, she decided, but it was… strengthening, also. She hadn't been so impartially loyal to a person since… since her father had died.

 

Jake backed her in everything she did… it felt good to be able to be his foundation for once. It was… emboldening. She was more than just words now, the past few weeks had proven that, but she was more than a politician, more than the head of a new movement. She was a true friend… and she had never really had that before. Everyone in school had always deferred to her, even the teachers half the time, and while her father had allowed her to accompany him after her thirteenth birthday, she had merely been tagging along as a virtual apprentice. She and her mother had never been close, for all that they cared for each other…

 

She swallowed hard, turning as though wondering if she forgot something at her seat and closing her eyes briefly to hold in the tears. She was mostly past it now, with so much time left to brood until she had no tears left and nothing to remind her… but the woman who had raised her, who had woken her up every morning and baked with her, taught her everything she knew of etiquette and how to dance, her mother, who had been everything a mother was supposed to be and more, had been staying with a friend near the capital of Peru when Libra fell.

 

The tidal wave caused by the initial debris had listed the population of the entire country as an immediate casualty.

 

Her brother had used that as another of his excuses for sending her away… though why he thought that going on vacation where all she could do was brood was better than burying herself in something practical was beyond her… And she still hadn't really forgiven him for that.

 

“Lena?”

 

“I'm fine,” she returned under her breath at Jake's worried whisper. “Memories, that's all.” He hummed a soft understanding noise and left it at that… which she was grateful for. Turning a smile on him and nudging him with one elbow, causing him to smile too, she headed back toward the doors.

 

“Looking forward to going home?” he asked quietly.

 

She grimaced. The base in Brussels had never been `home,' merely… a base of operations. It hadn't even ceased to be unsettling until… “I miss Dorothy,” she admitted. As much as the other woman irritated her, she enjoyed the easy company and wit, enjoyed not having to worry about how she was perceived… and while she had that from others now, Jake and Mitchell and the rest of the bodyguard contingent, Dorothy had been the first… and, quite frankly, the bodyguards were all men.

 

They had talked on the phone a few times over the past six weeks, but she was constantly busy… and the few times she found herself free and able to call, Dorothy hadn't answered; she had probably took advantage of their absence by starting to keep the hours she always complained about not getting, sleeping until at least ten in the morning.

 

“Aa,” Jake returned in understanding… Setting her mind spinning on him in particular, again. He had always used that odd pronunciation instead of the more common `ah' and she had dismissed it as one of his quirks before, but Jack did the same thing, and with his accent, she was beginning to suspect it was more of a language variation than singular oddity. English was Jake's first language, she was sure, but he had admitted a few weeks ago that he spoke more than a few… and she would put money down that English wasn't Jack's first.

 

Speaking of… Jack was waiting for them as soon as they broke from the crowd. Jake growled slightly, and Relena couldn't help but agree… She was relatively sure the man was harmless - he had passed Milliardo's inspection, after all - but he was definitely some form of ex-military or resistance group, you could tell by the way he moved, and rumors had a way of cropping up. Well, not really, not about something so minor, and the press isn't here anyway, but the principles still stand. She glanced significantly at her friend, and his returning nod was fractional before he took a few long strides ahead of her to meet the man.

 

He leaned oh so casually on the wall, his arm set out straight to the side of his father's head, bearing… well, not as much of his weight as most people would set on it, because he could still maneuver with only a split second's notice.

 

How does one learn to be so incredibly genial yet utterly intimidating at the same time? Heero had always just been intimidating… Duo and Quatre had only come across as genial, despite what they were capable of. Milliardo can do it too, though… And Une and Treize.

 

They were talking in low, terse tones now, but she couldn't make out any of the words, heir voices were too low. She took a few steps forward herself, though smaller ones, curious and wanting to see if they were speaking a language she knew. Jack snarled something she couldn't follow, and, still trying to not make it obvious what she was doing, she leaned forward slightly as Jake cut him off.

 

“Watashi wa-”

 

She backed away as casually as she had moved forward, her curiosity sated, for the most part. They're part Japanese, then, she decided. Though Jake's mother had to have been Caucasian, for him to look as he does. Jack certainly wasn't fully-blooded, after all, and she had only noticed her friend wasn't white when he had started to tan golden instead of brown.

 

Jack shoved his son away and didn't quite glower at her as he apologized for being out of bounds. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him, she politely accepted the apology that he obviously had not meant.

 

-

***

-

 

Treize's hidden compound

Treize let out a hiss as he lashed out at another dummy with his right practice blade, throwing as much strength as possible into the strike. He had finally heard back from the self-dubbed `Adam' that Váli had emailed him about, and the news had been far more mixed than he could have hoped for.

 

Others had noticed Váli's loophole in the Peacecraft Regime's digital security. That was probably fine, but he needed to send through the grapevine that more subtlety was needed, all the same; half the advantage of accessing their information so freely was that Zechs had no idea that it might be happening.

 

`Adam' was the young man Alekseev had identified as helping Chang Xutao escape his pursuers. He freely admitted to this, and that he had done so because at the time he either had not known or did not trust what he had heard of Treize's intentions with the boy. He seemed disinclined to specify which of these was the case, and which belief he currently held to. He also seemed to hold no interest in joining either of the prominent rebel groups, or even facilitating a degree of communication between Treize and Po `at this particular time.'

 

As always, gundam pilots gave their trust sparingly. At least it made sense how Chang completely mislead those chasing him.

 

However, Adam claimed, at least, to know nothing about the bug in Alekseev's phone. He had happily revealed that he knew far more about the man and his family than was reasonable, but had suggested that he had better ways of keeping tabs on the double agent than a very short-range transmitter.

 

Treize continued moving through the form, sliding from one movement to the next. He could not yet find a distinguishable reason for Adam to be lying about that, but while that didn't rule out the possibility, it seemed likely that the man's confusion was genuine. If that was the case, however, it opened the question back up as to exactly who else had been interfering. Someone had to have followed Ivan closely for an undetermined amount of time without rousing any suspicion, which was impressive even if Alekseev wasn't the most observant individual.

 

And whoever had done it had proof that Treize wasn't exactly as dead as the papers proclaimed him. That worried him, though he had decided to keep the old phone number Alekseev contacted him through connected, if not as a direct line to himself. It was unusable now, but it might eventually prove to be a line of communication to whoever Alekseev's stalker was.

 

And Mariemaia was on Earth… probably, at least. Adam had done his own extensive search immediately after losing her the night Dekim's base had been raided, only to conclude that she had disappeared more perfectly than she ought to have been capable of doing by herself, almost instantly. It was completely up in the air as to where this aid may have come from, who had her now, but it was more than simply nothing, even if the news wasn't particularly helpful. Unless a relatively powerful group was responsible for her new disappearance, it was unlikely she could leave eastern Europe, and while that was still a massive search range, it was narrowed somewhat. Dekim had had more recent photographs of his daughter to work with, and he had already directed more people and funds into a renewed search effort. He had found no traces of another political group capturing and trying to use her, so it seemed likely that it was something smaller… more personal in some fashion, which could either be horrifying or healthy, depending on who had her.

 

Sending an anchored dummy flying with his left practice blade, he reflected that he had been trying to not think about that.

 

Adam had offered to be more helpful if he was given a phone number he could call if immediate information was available to him that would also be useful to Treize, or potentially for Adam to call for assistance in a pinch. He refused to carry a phone regularly for fear of tracking through it, but said that from time to time he would acquire contract-free cells with a prepaid amount of minutes on them. He had even offered to use a particular brand when he did so, so that Treize could quickly track his current location through a feed in the company, if he wanted.

 

It wasn't ideal, but it was far from a bad offer; Treize had accepted.

 

“Sir?”

 

He finished the motion he was in the middle of and stopped, bringing the dull blades up so that, if they were real, the flat of each sword would rest against the back of his neck before the blades crossed in a scissoring motion. He spun fluidly at the same time, turning a calm and mildly curious expression that was completely at odds with his torment and sweat soaked body on the soldier who had called to him.

 

Instead of being nervous, as most would, the man - Lance Pagnopta, he remembered - grinned broadly, his body taught with… excitement, it looked like, along with the usual awe. Treize grinned back at him spontaneously, glad for a little camaraderie instead of pure subservience, before bringing the weapons down and moving to put them away. “Captain Pagnopta, what can I do for you?”

 

-

***

-

 

Barcelona

“I'll see you back in Brussels, after we both finish our business,” Relena agreed, hugging her brother and moving back out into the hall to let him finish gathering the few things he had let spread out through the room he had stayed in. She was relatively sure the boys had finished packing up, but she didn't have anything that needed to be done right now, so she decided she might as well give the room a last once over. They had maybe fifteen minutes before it would be time to head out.

 

Jake and his father were arguing again outside the suite, again in Japanese.

 

Suppressing a small sigh, she went first into the room where the majority of her bodyguards had slept and found that yes, they were completely moved out… she got down on her knees and checked under the beds anyhow. They were all down arranging transport details, - or in the night shift's case, settling into their bus to get some sleep - keeping the overall building secured, with the exception of her friend. Opening the adjoining door to the rest of the suite, where she had slept and worked and to some degree just spent time with her guards, she entered and went over the usual places where things could be forgotten. When she left without having found anything, the two men were still fighting, though their voices weren't raised.

 

Just when she was thinking it might be time to step in and say that it was time to leave a little early, something about Jake… shifted. Relena's breath caught in her throat as Jack also seemed to catch the change and he started to take a step back…

 

Jake moved with him, a furious sneer lighting his face as he brought up an elbow and slammed it into his father's chest.

 

She stood in shock as they began to exchange blows, Jack almost frantically blocking and only managing it every other blow, not even attempting to launch his own offense as Jake was a blur of pure motion. He was still snarling something, not quite yelling, though it still wasn't in any language she knew, and it was too fast for her to even identify if it was the same…

 

Jack let out a cry of outright pain as he was slammed into one of the little tables in the hall of the posh hotel, and Relena's inability to move vanished. “Jake!” She raced forward and grabbed furtively at her friend's coat, catching his attention…

 

…As Jack launched back with a roar and his son neatly sidestepped into a block, gritting his teeth as he simply took a blow to his exposed side, sliding her around to his back for protection, then gripping her hip by the bone and using it to guide her back and to the left before sliding back himself and delivering a kick that Jack evaded and used the recovery time from to come around that side. Jake muttered a curse under his breath and grabbed her hip with his right hand this time and brought her around to what had been their front before, spinning as he did so to dodge, then releasing her and bringing his left to rest near her waist again as he brought his torso a little lower and clearly threw all his strength into a punch into the man's solar plexus, sending him stumbling back… And following, leaving her alone as Jack quickly righted himself and had to move entirely onto the defensive again.

 

Oh my God… The older man wasn't even getting his blocks more than halfway there now, and Jake looked even more furious, moving even faster somehow, it was hard to tell what he was even doing beyond his almost feral snarls and Jack's cries…

 

“Miller!”

 

Neither man acknowledged her brother's commanding call and she tensed as he dove in between them, managing to fend off both of them for a few seconds before Jake focused solely on him and snarled before throwing him back across the hall and into a door, blocking another blow from his father before making him cry out again.

 

Milliardo was on his hands and knees, breathing hard and swaying.

 

He wasn't getting back up.

 

“Jake, stop!” she cried, darting forward again. He had hurt Milliardo, but from what he had done before…

 

The blonde man growled in irritation as he guided her around to his back again and lashed out even more viciously, his nails drawing blood.

 

He's going to kill him, she realized in horror. He doesn't care, he won't back down and neither will Jack… Letting out a little scream of defiance, she tried to dart back around him, but he shifted his body so that again he was fully between her and his enemy.

 

`He wouldn't hurt you,' Mitchell's words came back to her. `But it would make it all worse.'

 

Oh God… She had done exactly what David had said not to do, and was proving everything he had said right.

 

There was a sickening crunch of bone snapping followed by a scream from Jack and Jake dashed forward again, slamming the point of his elbow into the center of his father's chest, and there was another crack.

 

“'Lena!”

 

Mitchell was down at the end of the hall and running towards them, but Jake had just tossed aside her brother like a broken doll, and her brother could handle Tallgeese, he could fly gundams, if Mitchell came close…

 

“Don't kill him!” she snapped at her bodyguard, furious and scared and wondering if this might actually work or if she was going to see Dave hurt too, but trying to just keep the anger, the command in her voice.

 

And he stopped.

 

He was shaking, but Jack was down on the floor, gasping for breath, and his son was no longer pressing the advantage, though whether it was because of her order or because there was no way Jack could retaliate with his chest trying to turn concave, she couldn't tell. He was breathing hard, his eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched in fists… but he was standing still.

 

Mitchell slowed to a stop, and seemed to consider for a moment before asking, “Jake?”

 

The blonde brought one hand to his face, hiding his eyes. “Take him to the hospital,” he ordered in a cold monotone. He took a deep breath, released it, and turned away, facing her, before starting to walk away. “Make sure I can't see him again or I… I can't say I'll…”

 

“Understood,” Mitchell returned sharply, gesturing the men who had come with him towards both Jack and Milliardo, starting to mutter orders quietly as Jake nodded, beginning to shake as he leaned against the wall, facing the other way.

 

After a moment, Relena followed him, coming into his space again but not touching him at all, not sure what to do…

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

 

Relena looked back to see the makeshift stretcher of blankets being made for Jack, someone helping Milliardo to his feet and him waving away help, leaning against the doorway for support. There were medical personnel on site wherever she stayed, Jake had mandated it in case of emergencies, so everything would be fine, really.

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered again, sounding even more upset, as if his voice was about to break, and he was shaking harder. “I…”

 

“It's fine,” she soothed, grasping his hand, then moving in to a halfway sort of hug when his tremors only seemed to increase. Some of it was probably the adrenaline wearing off so quickly, but it was as if he thought she would reject him… “It's fine,” she repeated, holding him tight, and realizing that he really did. “I'm not scared of you,” she assured, realizing that that might be the source of it. “How could I be?” He certainly wasn't anything like Heero, holding a gun to her head, and she had rarely been afraid of him. Jake had refused to stop attacking, true, but he had protected her, at injury to himself… He had protected her more than he should have been able to, still fully fighting like he had been, she had just seen some of the skills that had qualified him as her bodyguard. She hadn't even known somebody could do that, even the way he had pushed and pulled her around hadn't hurt in the slightest.

 

His chuckle was somewhat incredulous, so she looked up to meet his eyes pointedly. In some part of her mind, she was noting that it was ironic how he had caused then brought her through two meltdowns, and now she was helping him through his second.

 

“We're okay,” she said with finality after another moment, hoping he understood everything she meant. Don't worry. I'm okay with how you are. We're even. We make a good team.

 

Don't go away.

 

He closed his eyes and held her tight for a moment. “Thanks, Lena.”

-

-

-

-

Thoughts, theories? Seriously, sorry for taking so long…