Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Three Days In London ❯ Day One ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Gundam Wing: 3 Days In London

Mobile Suit Gundam: Three
Days In London
By Eric Jacobson
Read All My FanFiction At My FanFiction
Home Site

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Gundam Anything. Leave me alone. I'm not
worth suing.

Author's Note: An interesting request was made of me. While posting one of my
new Fics online, an ICQ message from a lady friend of mine came in, asking what
I was up to. I told her about the fic I was working on, how it was sappy and
romantic and stuff. And she said "you should write a love story about me."
Why not! So here it is. This one is dedicated to Megan, the girl who gave
me the idea ^.^

This story takes place during Gundam Wing, during the AC 195 war.

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Day One...

Destiny has a funny way of fooling around with a person's head. It'll pop into
their life, make things so much better, or worse in some cases. And sometimes,
it stays. All the effects of destiny's intervention remain with that person
and they live happily with what fate has dealt them. But sometimes, destiny
can not stay. It appears, and then drifts away as quickly as it came. It's during
that time that destiny has it's largest impact on the human psyche.

And, for some reason, I am one of the people it chose to impact.

My name is Jonathan Leary. I was born into a wonderful Irish family, and as
I grew, I became fascinated with Mobile Suits. My mother would always tell me
that things like Mobile Suits weren't for young men like me, though I never
could see why. Sure, they were machines of mass destruction. But it was as if
I saw something more in them than that.

That's why I signed up for the local Mobile Suit Guard. Soon I was transfered
from my home in Killarny to the post here in London. And Wednesday was the first
day that OZ had decided to play it's hand here in the Brittish Isles.

My commander approached me and told me that I was to go to a refugee camp on
the bank of the Thames just outside of the city limits. Alot of the rural citizens
became frightened of the OZ presence, and the others were from accross the channel
on the Eurasian Continent. They feared OZ and what they stood for, and had chosen
to flee for their lives. I was told that OZ was oppressive in some areas, eager
to snuff out any pockets of resistance.

It was there that destiny dealt me the strangest hand to play that I'd ever
recieved. On that day, four days ago, I met someone who has changed my life
forever. She was a refugee from near the Ewing Forest to the north. I never
caught much of the whole story, but to my knowledge the people feared the presence
of the OZ soldiers in their rural area and came to the city to seek the comfort
of their countrymen.

When I arrived at the camp, my first duty was to oversee refugee registration
in the south west part of the tent city. I was given my paperwork, and two young
officers were assigned to assist me. The first was Devon. He was a young Scotchman
of about 20, stocky and full of energy. The other was Niles. He made his home
in London. At 22, he was married and had a son, and was rather reserved in his
mannerisms. The three of us loaded up in a jeep and were driven to our assigned
area.

We arrived in the south west area of the camp sometime after 1PM. As we left
the jeep, the officer in charge came up to us and briefed us on the situation.

"Alright, Sir. Here's what we have. Most of the refugees in this area of
the camp are from the local rural area, and some from farther north. They were
placed here so they would have easy access to the city. There are alot of women
and children, so try and take it easy on them. And one of the refugees, Lord
Standish, has been demanding to see you since he arrived. We tried to explain
to him that the Section Officer would arrive soon, but he's being testy. You
should see him as soon as possible before he goes off and does something stupid
to get some attention."

"Alright. Thanks. You're dismissed." I looked at the preliminary head
count list. "Damn. 1500 people to register. This is gonna take some time.
Devon, why don't you round up as many of the refugees as you can and get them
into the common area so we can start taking some names and such. Niles, see
about getting a chow line setup close by, these people are probably really hungry."

"Alright, Sir, no trouble a'tall." Devon spoke with a thick Scotch
accent, and at times it made him hard to understand. But he was the loudest
of us, and therefore best suited to round up people into a large area.

Niles, on the other hand, was strangely quiet. He simply nodded and headed off
to the mess area to get things started.

I called the closest soldier over to inquire about the Lord Standish issue.
Upon hearing that he was in the Officer's Quarters, I made my way there on the
double. The Officer's Quarters was actually a commandeered house along the main
road to and from the city. It was Victorian in design, obviously the home of
a wealthy citizen. Why it was vacated, we'll never know. But it served the housing
needs of the officers perfectly. When I arrived, I was greeted by a soldier
and granted entry.

After being shown to my office, I went to the main living area to meet with
Lord Standish. Upon entering the room, my eyes cast their first gaze on her.
Sitting on the couch was a young girl, I'd say around 18 or 19, beautiful in
every way. Her blonde hair cut at the shoulder and left down, her subtle features
concealed by a gorgeous sun dress.

"May I help you miss?" I asked, almost choking on my own words.

"Are you the officer in command here?" Her voice was almost angelic,
and I moved closer to melting on the spot.

"Yes, I am. I'm Lieutenant Leary, but you can call me Jonathan. What can
I do for you?"

"Oh, I'm just looking around. One of the soldiers told me I could come
in and see the house."

'A soldier let her in?' I thought to myself. 'You'ld think that with security
as tight as it is, they wouldn't let civilians into the Officer's Quarters.'
After resolving that a young lady such as this couldn't be much of a threat
to security, I continued the conversation. "Well, have you seen much that
you like?"

She walked over to the fireplace and gazed at the portrait above it. It was
of an old man in upper class dress, obviously a former owner of the mannor.
"This painting. It's very old. I've always had an interest in things like
this."

I walked over and stood next to her, looking from the painting to her and back
again. "How can you tell that it's an old painting?"

"It's not that difficult, really. Mostly the composition and style. But
it's very old, it's probably been in the family for centuries."

"Wow. You're quite a smart young lady. What's your name?"

"My name is Megan."

"Well, that's a pretty name, and it suits a lovely young lady like yourself
pretty well." I couldn't help it. She was so gorgeous. It was hard to not
give her a compliment.

"Well thank you. An officer and a gentleman rolled into one. It's not often
you find that in this day and age."

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I've met lots of soldiers. They're all enfatuated with their Mobile
Suits, though. It's all they talk about. The war, the Gundams from the Colonies,
OZ, it's all they have on their minds. But you, you're taking time to compliment
a simple young lady, that's something special."

I was getting quite nervous. She was being dreadfully forward, that was for
sure. I managed to retain my composure and continued to speak. "Well, I
come from an old school of thought. If you see a pretty lady, you have to compliment
her. And you certainly qualify." From down the hall, I heard footsteps,
accompanied by what sounded like a gruff old man, screaming at the top of his
lungs. Assuming that this was Lord Standish coming to see me, I decided that
I should ask the young lady to leave. But when I turned to tell her, she had
already gone, vanishing without a trace.

At that moment, Lord Standish entered the room. He was a rough looking old codger,
deffinately someone who was holding on to the arcane and outdated concept of
Brittish Class Society. Though it still had its supporters, the "Nobility
System" had been abolished when the Earth banded together to create the
Colonies. This one, however, wasn't of that mindset. He was wearing a nobleman's
clothing, very ornate and almost military in design. His puffy white beard was
well kept, but still hid his mouth and there fore, affected his speach a bit.

"Well, it's about god damned time you got here, Lieutenant. I've been trying
to get my voice heard in here all damn day, and noone will listen to me."
He was obviously angry, his face red as a turnip and cheeks flushed beyond any
that I'd ever seen. The young soldier who had accompanied him into the room
said something under his breath about not being able to hear anything with his
uffish yelling.

"Thank you, Private," I told the young soldier. "You're dismissed."
He muttered a quick 'Thank you, Sir' and made his way out of the room as fast
as he could, obviously wanting to get away from the cranky old man he had escorted.
"Anyway, Lord Standish, I heard about you wanting to see me when I arrived
and I got here as fast as I could. Things have been hectic with OZ moving in
and all. What can I do for you?"

"I'll tell you what you can do for me, young man! You can start by getting
me some better living quarters than that shoddy tent out there in the streets.
I'm decended from the Windsor family, Lieutennant, and I demand some respect!"

The Windsor Family. I had read about them in secondary school. They were a ruling
family towards the end of the Universal Century. They had held power untill
a series of scandals rocked the family and they had to relenquish their status
when the people of Brittain rose up against them. In what was known as the "Quiet
War", the people had ended centuries, almost a millennia, of monarch rule.
All without spilling a single drop of blood.

"Well, Lord Standish, we can try and relocate your family, but with the
influx of new refugees each day, that's gonna be hard to do. We can't just leave
people out because you want the best available accomidations. This is war, in
case you haven't noticed. The people are on edge as it is thanks to OZ and those
Gundams, and they most certainly don't need a selfish old man who can't let
go of an outdated societal concept bitching and whining because he can't get
his own way."

"How dare you talk to me in that tone of voice..."

"I dare talk to you like this because I am the commanding officer of this
section of the camp. I'm in charge here, and it's my duty to make sure that
the people who come here are taken care of. It's not my duty to cowtow to old
fools such as yourself who make trouble just because they can't have cake after
their ration of meat and potatoes. We're all making sacrifices here, Lord Standish,
and you should be no different. There's a greater evil out there than what conditions
you're living in. I don't know if that evil is the Gundams or OZ, but I know
that it is most certainly not the fact that you don't live in the best possible
surroundings. Do I make myself clear?"

The old man didn't speak. I think he was in shock, really. Being a blood noble
and living in a rural area, he had probably used his title to throw his weight
around with the locals. But that wasn't going to happen here. And to make matters
worse, the person telling him where to get off the bus was nothing more than
a 23 year old Celt with some shiney buttons on his uniform.

After an akward silence, the old noble spoke. "Alright, Lieutenant. You
win this time, but don't think you've heard the last of Lord Aaron Standish.
I promise you that we'll meet again. And I promise you, I will get what I want
from you people." With that, he left the room in a huff, grumbling and
cursing me as he went.


Later that night, I made my way to my office, tired and mentally drained. Somehow,
my crew and I had managed to register all of the refugees in our section, even
the 200 extra that had come in since we started. We'd made our rounds, and command
was transfered to the night crew. Devon and I had stopped at the pub down the
road and each had a few beers. Niles just went straight to his office. After
those beers, we staggered back to the Officer's Quarters for the night.

I sat at my dest and stared at the mountain of papers that I had to turn in
to command the next day. "Dear lord, I can't believe we got all this done
in one day. What a job! This is deffinately not what I had in mind when I signed
on." I carefully (well, as carefully as a drunken Irishman can) moved the
huge stack of documents to the side and slammed my head down onto the desk in
exhaustion. "Whatever happens with this war, I hope it happens soon. I
can't take much more of this pencil pushing racket."

My head was still planted firmly on the wodden top of the desk when I heard
a knock at my door. I looked up to see one of the guards standing there. "Sir,
there's a young lady here to see you, said her name's Megan. Should I tell her
you're off duty?"

'Megan? That girl again?' My thoughts raced as I tried to sober myself up as
much as I could. "Oh, no, Private. Send her in."

"Right away, Sir." He left the doorway, and a few moments later, the
young lady known as Megan appeared in his place.

"Am I bothering you, Lt. Leary?"

"Megan! Oh, no, not at all. I'm off duty for the night. Please, come in."
I quickly tried to put on my best sober face and made my way around the desk
to pull the chair out for her. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you."

"No problem at all. So, what brings you here tonight?"

"Well, after we met earlier, I spent the day thinking. Lieutenant, do you
know what's going to happen to us? I mean, what's going to become of us when
this war is over?"

She had to throw me a tough question. I had no clue what would happen to them.
After all, I was only a section commander. "I really don't know. I wish
I could tell you. Being uprooted and shipped off somewhere, I can only begin
to imagine how things are going for you right now. I wish I had the answer,
but I don't."

"Well, while we're here, I suppose I should feel better knowing there are
people like you in charge. Your regiment has been nothing short of wonderful
to everyone." She sounded so sad, and I didn't blame her at all. Suddenly,
her tone changed, and she began to relax a little bit. "Lieutenant..."

"You can call me Jonathan, or just Jon, if you'ld like."

"Jonathan... Alright. Jonathan, would you come for a walk with me?"

I thought about it for a moment. Sure, I was tired and half drunk. But here
was a beautiful girl, wanting to go for a walk through this place with me. How
many chances would I get to be in this situation? Not many, that was for sure.
"Alright. Let me get my coat and we'll go for a walk."


We walked for a little while down the streets of the tent city, not saying much.
We made small talk. She told me about growing up outside of Ewing in her little
town. Her father was a wealthy man, so she spent most of her formative years
in boarding schools for girls. She dreamed of one day being like Relena Dorlian,
the daughter of the assasinated foreign minister. His daughter had resumed his
duties after his death, and Megan saw that as something she'd like to do.

"I really hate war. It frightens me. Because there is always the possibility
that the regular citizens will suffer the most. We're constantly in the line
of fire. That's why my family came here, to seek refuge from the battlefields."
She spoke with great bravery in her voice, nothing like a victim of wartime
displacment.

"I don't blame you. When I signed up for my local militia unit, there wasn't
a chance of war. Things were very quiet back then. Then I was transfered here,
and that's when OZ decided that they were going to take over the Alliance. That's
when the Gundams came, and brings us to the point we're at now. I'm not going
to be on the front lines, but I'm close enough to see the damage war does."

I tried to imagine the way she looked at me now. A soldier saying he didn't
care for war and the problems it brings. It must have seemed funny to hear that,
because it sure felt funny to hear myself saying it.

"Then why did you join the military?"

"Ever since I was little, I always had a fascination with Mobile Suits.
My mom always tried to convince me that they were machines of mass destruction
and nothing more, but I never listened. I always knew that Mobile Suits could
be adapted to serve mankind in ways other than during war time. Originally I
wanted to be a suit engineer, but somehow I ended up going to officer's school."

"So, do you pilot a suit at all?"

"Yeah, I've been assigned a specialized Leo, all the officers get one.
The armor is a blend of steel and Gundaniam, so they have an added strength
to them. But I've never flown it in combat before. That's what they have the
Mobile Suit divisions for. We're a smaller outfit, so we don't have as many
Mobile Suit troops in our ranks."

"Ahhh, I see. Though I'm not too fond of war, it does sound like an exciting
life. Nothing like mine. My life is pretty much dull and dry. Everything I do
is based on my father's stubborn adherance to the old ways. I don't get out
much at all. That's why I'm using my time here to get out and see what I can."

"That's a good idea. Hey, are you hungry at all?"

"Actually, I am. Why do you ask?"

"Because I know a great Italian place on the edge of town, and it's not
far from the camp. Would you like to join me?"

"There's a resteraunt open this late?"

"It's Sangiacomo's, they're always open. Ever since I've been in London,
I've been eating dinner there practically every night. Don't worry, I know the
manager on duty right now. Tony will get us hooked up rather nicely. I'd be
honored if you would come along..."

She thought it over for a moment, and a smile crossed her lips. It was the most
beautiful smile I'd ever seen, and I never would have thought that I would see
something like that amid so much hardship like there was in this camp.

"Yes, I'd love to go."

"Great!" I held out my arm to her. "Shall we go my lady?"
She slipped her hand through the loop my arm made and held my arm with the other,
completing the old time escort's pose.

"Yes, we shall, Lieutenant Leary." She giggled as we started down
the road towards the resteraunt. I couldn't believe it. In all this chaos, I
had actually found a lovely young lady who made me smile and feel better about
the job I was here to do.


Dinner was magic. Pure magic. We talked about our childhoods, and Tony even
called out his violinist to play for us as we ate. There was noone else in the
place, we had it all to ourselves. At one point, I asked my date to dance, and
she happily accepted. We went out onto the dock dining area, a wooden pier extending
out into the Thames, and danced while the musician played and Tony sang the
traditional songs of his homeland. The whole time, her smile never left her
face, and I myself was fixated on it the entire night.

The time for us to return to the camp came, and I thanked Tony for the wonderful
meal. As we walked home, we held hands and stayed quiet. Neither of us wanted
to talk, words would have only complicated the simple happiness we were both
feeling at that moment. Finally, we arrived at her tent.

"I had a really nice time tonight, Jonathan."

"I did to, Megan. I'll tell you what, you sure do know how to make an army
boy smile in times of war."

"And you have a way of making a girl feel as carefree as she would when
she was little, Lieutenant."

"Well, I'm glad that I could make you smile. God knows that's hard enough
to do with the war going on and all."

She leaned up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow,
Jonathan." With that, she ran into her tent, and I myself turned and made
my way back to my office. The events of the night rolled through my mind as
I walked happily back to my building, and the soldiers on the way took notice.
I guess they could all see the extra skip in my step. When I arrived, I flopped
down onto the bed with the world's biggest smile still on my face.

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OK, folks. That's it for day one. Second 'R' time, and please remember to be
nice! Day two will be out soon, so stay tuned! In the meantime, check out my
other Fics Here
at FF.N or at my FanFiction
Home Site.