Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Constelation Andromeda ❯ Chapter 1

Title: The Constellation Andromeda

Rating: PG-13

Shoujo-ai/Yuri content

Poetry is mine please do not steal it.

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They had been dancing the entire night through. Meeting on the dance floor in a perfectly choreographed manner that did not seem possible for real life. It was like a dream sequence in a movie, or the ballet portion of a Rogers and Hemerstien musical, mythical and unreal. And both seemed, on a physical level, built for one another as precise moves took them from one dance to the next, waltz, salsa, tango…

The taller of the two, appropriately in the lead, some called her a severe woman, militaristic and cold, but those that knew her well understood that she was indeed a lady. The strictest sense of the word observed in her reserved hairstyle, light brown hair tightly slicked into a uniform bun. The palest of rose pink lipstick noticeable on her only when she grinned and hazelnut colored eyes calmly reaching from behind circular framed glasses. The lady dipped her partner, as the melody died away, her lips lingering painfully close to the shorter woman's neck. Touching upon the pale skin briefly as, slowly, she helped the young woman stand.

Not a word had been uttered since they found each other. Just the dance, the movements and music doing all the speaking that needed to be done. A spark of heat burning across and through both as they caught their breaths and stared into each other's eyes. And the band played what most in the dance hall understood was to be the last song of the evening, as the two women pulled together, bodies leading the way, marking the steps.

The shorter of the two looked dizzy, as if all the dancing, all the unspoken thoughts were too much a surprise for her. No one had ever read her so well before. And while the lady was an almost stoic form, the shorter woman was nimble, the figure of a professional dancer. Her heart ready to leap from her chest whenever her violet-gray eyes stared too deeply into the brown before her. Passion, lust… it echoed back between the two when they moved. Bolder as the night wore on because the young woman trusted the lady to lead her safely, let a near graceful hand sweep through her ruddy brown hair.

Applause in the distance was the death knell for the evening. Praise for the band flittering around the two women who could, at that moment, only see each other. The crowd around them was thinning, background voices making plans to go to a restaurant, or mutterings of goodbyes and the young woman was sure those she had come with would be looking for her but… despite her cautionary nature regarding romantic interludes she could not… No, she would not deny herself what the lady was promising. Forever or one night it didn't matter as she silently accepted the invitation. The two walked out of the dance hall together pausing briefly for their lips to meet, tasting the words their voices could not supply.

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And where are we fading to

Are we but softness and light

Are we but flashes in the air

Where are we going to

Will you remember this

Will you forget

If I lose you tomorrow

Will you beg for today

And are we

Images and nothing

Shadows and dust

Tell me

Where are we fading to

Where are we going

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His jaw had been locked and clenched the entire evening, dark eyes watching the two women with a spark of furry. There were those he wanted to blame. Those he wanted to accuse of ruining his plans, and they ran hotter when he heard the chuckle behind him. He spun around to meet with stormy gray eyes and a delectable smirk.

"Honestly Nichol, you look like a little boy ready to have temper tantrum," the woman breezed.

"Tell me this wasn't your doing?"

She arched an eyebrow and then peered over his shoulder catching the quick exchange between the two women who had owned the dance floor the whole of the evening. Then she brought her gaze back to the young man before her and sighed patiently. The parking lot was still crowded with people making plans, night air warm, and stars invisible.

"Why would you think I had anything to do with it?"

"Dorothy, I mean it."

"Do tell me, what was a worse blow to your ego tonight…losing the lady or the chance to ruin Barton's stepsister?"

Her grin spread just a little more as he sneered.

"Can't have it all Nicholai." She pat him on the shoulder, "Let's to dinner. I'm starving."

He nodded and then asked because he was curious, "So, you approve?"

"It's not for me to approve or disapprove, Nichol dear… She's mine. Hell or high water, games or vengeance, lust or love…she'll come back to me."

"You sound so sure."

Dorothy shook her head, "We own each other… marked each other… fifty years or another lifetime she'll find her way back to me. And I will find my way back to her. Now…let's go eat, and I'll find something to occupy that bruised ego of yours."

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Once

Twice

It was nice

But you know we go

Off and on to our separate corners

Laugh about the time

Make fun of the rhyme

Because through silence and spell

You know very well

Lasting is a joke

And forever…

Is hollow sound

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Things always looked different in the quiet space of the morning after. The light of day brought the shadowed details into the foreground. The large collection of well worn books on the shelves, the perfectly polished shine of the antique furniture, including the bedposts, and the soft and subtle scent that was an obvious after effect of the tiny, and fragile perfume bottles uniformly cluttering the top of the dresser. She was sitting on the edge of the queen sized bed, crisp white sheet sloppily draped around her waist, top bare and exposed, unable to stick to her plans of escaping before the lady woke.

There were a million things she wanted to blame…dancing, her stepbrother for insisting she get out of the house, but mostly her self for not being strong enough to fight whatever pull had forced her into the lady's arms, a pull that was decidedly delicate and tender. She sucked in a deep breath as she turned to watch the lady sleeping. So different in the light… softer… every single commanding feature of the lady less controlled and rigid. Violet-gray eyes playing over a near flawless back, marred only by the partially hidden tattoo peeking from under sheets. It was a curious almost familiar design and if Catherine Bloom had not feared waking the lady she would have pulled the sheet back farther so she could see the rest of it. On cue the slightly older woman began to stir. Catherine reached out to touch the woman next to her, fingers gracing a supple shoulder.

"You stayed," the lady whispered, turning onto her side, slight smile running over her lips.

Catherine wasn't sure what to do. She could lean back into the pillows, or stay where she was…away and detached, safe and sound.

"What's your name?" She sat up ignoring the sheets gliding away from her, reaching out a hand to pull the young woman's retreating gaze to her own. "I don't believe I caught it last night."

"Catherine."

"Catherine," the lady echoed and it sounded like a song. "Catherine I'm Une." Her eyes seemed to spark when she said it, then she chuckled at an unspoken joke.

"Une?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"Last name," was the reply. "My first name is my little secret."

"Anyone privy to that secret?"

Une's smile turned from amused to mischievous as she slid closer to the smaller young woman. Arms easing Catherine back into the plush and warm bed.

So different…

The way their lips met less hurried and ravenous than the previous evening. Une's brown hair tousled around her shoulders, nothing uniform or militaristic about her. Catherine found herself shivering at the touch. She hated not being in control, not knowing what was next. If it was a fling or the start of something she could not tell. Her mind told her it was a brief affair and her heart echoed the sentiment but secretly wished for something deeper. Either way she was sure the lady would leave her bruised.

"I love that you're unsure," Une said as she pulled away. "You always seemed so confident whenever I saw you."

"When did you see me?"

"With your stepbrother…I've known him for ages you know."

"He never ment-"

"Of course he wouldn't," she smiled, dipping back to reclaim the sweetness of the lips below her. "He wouldn't want to give you any ideas."

"Like running off and sleeping with someone I've never even said two words to," she winked.

"Exactly like that." Une sat back. "Funny how protective he is of you."

Catherine shook her head. "He cares… we're all we have. Listen I…"

"Want to leave?" The lady pinned Catherine to the bed. "I don't want you to leave just yet."

"When do you want me to leave?"

Hazelnut brown eyes shut briefly and then opened as she replied, "When we're through."

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I can feel your touch

Soft and sweet

Gentle and easy

Guiding me along

Why me

And in the distance

There is an end waiting

Dark and sad

Brief and still

Why me

Why need my lips

My kiss

My hips and scent

Why breathe me in

Why me

And I know you are called to another

A something you can't fight

A lighter touch that means so much

Why me

Why me

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They had fallen asleep again when a phone ringing ripped the slumber from them. Une slid out of the bed and from the hallway Catherine could hear all the deciding factors. The lady walked back into the room whispered a sigh and watched the disappointment grow on her first time lover's face. First time? Only time? Whatever, it had to end... Didn't it?

"I suppose that was someone privy to your first name," Catherine said finally, sitting up, ready to gather her things and leave.

"It was." She raised an eyebrow as the young woman began to move. "Want to met her?"

"I don't think-"

"She wants to met you…but you know her already," she paused and then considered, "Or so I was led to believe."

Une's gaze was unavoidable, penetrating, sought and found answers far too easily. Catherine tried looking away but found she could not.

"That tattoo," Catherine muttered. "On your lower back…what does it mean?"

"Goddess."

"And your goddess…does she have a similar mark?"

"Yes…hers says-"

"Lady," she interrupted. "Don't so this to me."

The lady stalked closer, took a seat next to the young woman, wrapped an arm around a dancer's perfect waist, and kissed her shoulder, "She says it's fine… Come with me?"

"Une, I-"

"Please," she traced her fingers over a small spot on the dancers lower back. Fingers perfectly mimicking the black ink of the tattoo that resided there. "Please, 'my star'… It will do us all some good."

She brushed back Catherine's ruddy brown hair, clearing a space to rest her lips and take a taste, leave a mark.

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You, me, her

You, me, her

Over and over

A snake eating its own tale

You

Me

Her

And who loves who more

Is never really answered

Because who loves who more

Was never the question asked

You, me, her

Me, you, her

Her, me, you

We're lost

Found again in something that kills

A darkness thick that answers all

It's not about the love

It's about the fall

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"You lied to me," he hissed bitterly as she passed him.

"Did I?"

"You said it wasn't your doing."

She smirked, "It wasn't. I had nothing to do with any of it." She glanced over her shoulder the restaurant was full of people and she was expected at a far corner booth. "Shouldn't you get back to work Nichol?"

"How could you?"

"Don't start with me," the goddess warned. "I said you couldn't have it all… I don't recall saying I couldn't."

He growled, "It's unfair to the lady."

"I enjoy your concern but she's the one who went and grabbed the other not me. You lost Nichol… so are you going to pay the price or not?"

"Fine… You won't be so lucky next time."

"If you say so…now," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. "This is his number. Give him a call and for God's sake be polite when he kisses you goodnight."

She handed over the card, which he snatched away quickly.

"Trowa's so lucky to have you," she patted his cheek quickly and practically skipped off to her table.

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A game isn't a game until its won

Until it ends and there is victor

Trophies given I'm out ahead

Trophies given…

I'm lucky for such friends

End…