Disclaimer: GW couldn't ever be mine unless I won the lottery and it was up for sale through a stroke of luck.....


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Evening, 7:30 PM, in the Capitol Building. Backstage, in one of the dressing rooms, stood Relena, a small speech written on note cards in her hands. She was standing to the side of the door, eyes trained on the wall in front of her. In her mind, she was rewinding the words she had put together till she knew them by heart; since she wasn't the only one saying something that evening, hers was only a few minutes long. The audience was unusually large for something so unremarkable, but she blocked that from her thoughts.

The formal suit felt uncomfortable to her, the starched collar grazing her jaw and the lace at the cuffs brushing roughly against her wrists. Reaching up to push back a strand of hair, she realized there was none; all of it was pulled back with an elegant bow, flowing down her back, between her shoulder blades.

Turning on her heel, she walked out into the hall. Since she had come one hour earlier she had seen only three people; two stagehands and a maid. They rushed by, not taking notice of her. In a way, she was glad they hadn't.

Farther down the hall to her right was a figure sitting rigidly in a chair, hands in lap. Relena raised her eyebrows; it didn't look like anyone she knew. With one hand clutching her speech, she made her way to the person curiously.

When she was close enough her eyes widened, startled into halting. Pausing briefly, she faltered. A few minutes ticked by; meanwhile, the maid scurried past her again, hastening when a cold stare latched onto her. Relena shook her head and continued, padding softly over.

"Dorothy?" Her voice was quiet, but astonished. Dorothy didn't jump, but jerkily swung her head around to see who it was. The expression on her face had an frigid, icy quality to it, and Relena tilted her head to the side in search of anything else. Standing up, Dorothy's skirt brushed against the chair, whispering as she moved.

"Miss Relena." Her hands fell to her sides and stayed there, her entire figure unmoving. Eyes flickering, she darted glances at Relena's face, eyes. To the other person, she hadn't seemed to age at all. The blonde hair still fell neatly to the backs' of her knees, the chin still held at a proud angle. The timelessness around her made Relena pull back, though her curiosity increased.

But before anything could be said, someone rushed to Relena, waiting at her elbow. She twisted her head to the side expectantly.

"Miss Foreign Vice Minister, it's time to begin." She nodded and looked at Dorothy one more time. Dorothy took a step back and sat down.

"I'll wait." She murmured, expression distant. Relena didn't know whether to be relieved or anxious about that, but she turned around to file with the others who'd be speaking at the podium onto the stage.

On the way out, she passed by Lady Une, who stood several feet from her. Making a motion to talk with her, she had walked onto the stage before it was possible. Lady Une stopped by the curtains, ignoring the sea of faces so close to her, staring at Relena's back. Too late.

The others sat down while Relena positioned herself at the familiar place behind the podium, fingers lightly gripping the edges, the note cards spaced out in front of her in case she needed them.

"Thank you for coming..."
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Dorothy listened wordlessly to the speeches traveling through the speakers above her. Except for those voices, none of the audience even coughed. She smirked to herself. The feeling of being back, once again, in the forest of politics made a sweet shudder course down her spine. Everything before had seemed so out of place when she had returned home, even lonelier than before. At least before the War was over, she had known what to do most of the time. Now, with peace and all taken care of, nothing was left for her.

It would change, she was sure of that.

Shaking herself from her lack of interest, she looked up. Glancing down at her watch, she saw it was now 8:30 PM. One of the speakers was certainly taking their time. Relena had taken only six minutes and thirty-six seconds; Dorothy had clocked her. After, time snaked by or vanished as if in a second, depending on what mood she found herself in.

Finding that her feet were asleep, she stood up and paced back and forth. The expression on Relena's face had been priceless; she hadn't thought she'd ever see Dorothy again, or at least, not this soon. Maybe a decade or so later, not barely a year after the war had wound down.

The sound of creaking stopped her in her thoughts, and Dorothy froze.

"Excuse me, may I know who you are?" An inquisitive voice asked. She frowned; it sounded like a child. Turning around slowly, her hair sweeping around, she eyed the girl behind her. Sitting in a wheelchair, red hair combed into a side part, eyes bright with an unusual sense of intelligence and curiosity, sat someone maybe a few years younger than herself. Head tilted to the side, she waited for an answer.

Dorothy straightened herself, shoulders sliding back.

"I am Dorothy Catalonia." The girl seemed was highly surprised, but only for a moment before she calmed. She sat up as rigidly straight as possible in her wheelchair.

"And I am Mariemaia Kushrenada." Dorothy felt what could be described as astonishment; though not letting this show, stared down at the crippled child with unerring coldness. Mariemaia returned the unwelcome stare, adding her own tightlipped frown.

Dipping her head down, studying her coolly from lowered eyelashes, she allowed something of a stiff grin to come across her face. Mariemaia was unlike any child she had met; Dorothy's interest melted into strong curiousity.

"You are Treize's only daughter?"

"Yes." Dorothy's predator grin pulled up at the corners in an approving way.

"I didn't think he ever had offspring."

"Is this conversation supposed to have a point, Miss Catalonia?" The liking for Mariemaia increased.

Mariemaia broke eye contact and turned her head to the curtain. Dorothy let her expression resume it's usual coolness, waiting. Mariemaia smiled to herself, a tiny smile.

"People are odd, aren't they?" She mused out loud.

Dorothy nodded in agreement.

" I have been thinking that this whole evening." She murmured the reply. "Why come if they knew most of what was going to be said? Why sit for hours and wait for information that has already been broadcasted? Why take a stand for the purpose of gossip? Yet, they always come, unfailingly." Mariemaia's clear blue eyes darted back to Dorothy.

"I have to leave now, Lady Une is most likely looking for me."

"Lady Une?" The name stuck to her tongue when Dorothy spoke it; another familiar name. Yes, it was good to be back.

"She took me in and takes care of me now." Mariemaia placed her hands at the wheels hesitantly. "Are you leaving after this?" Dorothy smirked.

"I think I'll be found here; there's nothing for me to return to." The girl nodded, and strained at the wheels to move the wheelchair around and down the other side of the hall. After a few moments of pushing, she felt the chair begin to roll forward without her help.

Dorothy pushed her down the hall silently, and Mariemaia leaned into the cushioned seats without a word. A "Thank you" had already been given.

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Listening to the crowd outside, Dorothy received what she had hoped for. A loud bout clapping began, not stopping for several minutes. She knew that, in that time, the speakers had filed into the backstage area. She dimly wondered who the last to give a speech was, since she had been distracted.

Lady Une was waiting for Relena at the edges of the curtains. If she had put one foot out she would've been onstage, so close was she. When Relena finally came into view, she gripped her arm in one strong hand, taking her aside. Looking up, sudden anxiousness flooding the girl's eyes, Relena sidestepped closer.

"Miss Peacecraft, would you please come with me." Lady Une demanded tersely.

"Of course." At that moment, Dorothy and Mariemaia sidled up to them, both with expectant faces. But they kept silent. Lady Une released Relena's arm, keeping her eyes locked with her.

"We need to go to the Preventer's." The corners of her mouth jerked down at the sobriety in Lady Une's tone. She nodded, her shoulders sagging. Mariemaia twisted in her seat to watch Dorothy's face, who looked back at her with an unreadable expression.

Passing Relena, Lady Une grabbed hold of the handlebars on the wheelchair, ready to lead them all to the Preventer's. She glanced at Dorothy, who immediately put herself beside Relena in a stoic manner. Shrugging, she signaled she could come along, easing some of the anxiousness that had sprung up in the blonde.
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On the way out, Relena had instructed one of the maids to inform her ministers where she would be - with the knowing that they would be worried that she had left without protection.

Since the crowd was immense, they left through a side exit. It was an odd procession of people going down the nearly uninhabited street, but no one was there to witness it. Hurriedly, through the dark, they reached Preventer Headquarters.

Without stopping, Lady Une brought them through the inspection gates and down a number of halls before stopping at a barred door. With a flick of the wrist she brought out an ID card, slipping it through a small machine beside the door handle, and ushered them in. Dorothy tensed when someone passed behind her, but her frightening glare made them hurry.

The room that they now entered was dark, and all blinked several times before becoming even slightly accustomed to it. Only then did Lady Une seem to remember Mariemaia; with a few words she departed and brought the girl to her room. She considered this to be something that Mariemaia would have to find out later, as would the rest. Leaving Dorothy and Relena to themselves for a few minutes, she pushed the still silent redhead along.

Finding the heat suddenly above tolerable, Relena unbuttoned her tailored jacket, slinging it over the arm of her rather frilly blouse. Rolling her shoulders, she wordlessly headed for a square green light at the end of the room, knowing that her new companion would follow. The familiarity of her was, perhaps, comforting in that she found herself in such a shaky situation.

Her hip slammed into something, and Relena backed away a step. Squinting, she made out the shape of a table. With one hand reaching in front of her, following the surface of it, she continued her way. The green light, she found, was interrupted by something; some dark shadow. It flickered several times as she came closer before finally freezing in position.

The flicker appeared once more, and Relena, now more or less used to the dark, found it to be a person. Forgetting the developing bruise on her hip, she hurried her pace, her jacket swinging stiffly from her arm when she dodged something in her way.

The green glow came from a small computer screen; the flicker indeed was a person, who now stared at her woodenly, the light reflecting part of his face and shadowing the rest. Dubious, Relena wanted to get closer before drawing up a conclusion.

"Relena?" A voice whispered. Startling Relena, Dorothy surged forward, placing herself in front of her and leaning toward the computer. She grasped the edges of the slim table it was on in both hands, studying the words displayed on it. While she was reading, Relena concentrated on who was standing just two feet in front of her. The sound of a door opening, the light it briefly threw on them, and a door closing just barely passed through her mind.

"Heero?" Eyes round, she added, "You're the agent-"

"No." He interrupted smoothly. "Duo went to Nigeria, not me."

"Duo?" Relena's eyebrows pulled together as she thought. Heero watched her closely, something discontent and uneasy flitting across his face. "I see."

Again, a door opened, closed. A slender beam of bright light passed over him again.

"The conference was so boring. Heero, have you translated all that?"

Relena broke the eye contact with Heero to look over her shoulder. A surprised Duo halted the moment he saw just who it was leaning over the computer, her shoulder outlined in the glow given off the computer screen, strands of blonde spilling over back and sides.

"Dorothy? How'd you get here?" He squinted. "Don't tell me-" Heero pulled back, falling into a chair that had been pushed aside. He crossed his arms over his chest, slumping, and directed his attention back at Relena.

"It's translated." He said loudly, and Duo came closer. Not far behind him, marching quickly, was Lady Une. Relena glanced at Heero once more then turned back to Shinigami.

"Good evening, Duo."

"Relena, you, too?" His mouth formed a grin, "It's a regular party."

With a sudden jerk, Dorothy pulled herself away from the computer, dismay pouring into her expression. She turned to Relena, hands tapping the edge of the table, turning the palms up, pity in her gestures. With a shake of the head, she took some steps back, motioning for Relena to see for herself. Glancing over at Lady Une, Relena wondered what to do. With a reluctant nod, the Lady urged her on.

She bent slowly over, her jacket slipping onto the table's surface, concentrating on the information openly shown for her. Heero sagged into the chair, looking down at the floor, arms still crossed. He refused to move otherwise.

One of those silences spanned over the few minutes that passed, the kind where one couldn't talk but wished someone would. Duo, feeling as if he had been left out of something let himself lean against a file cabinet in wonder, watching the others intently. Resignation tiding Dorothy over, she stared at Relena's slim shoulders, waiting.

The time was up. Heero was the first to notice, having a side view of her just three feet in front of him. She took a gulp of air, rose, straightened, and turned on the heels of her feet, arms swinging loosely at her sides. In a glassy-eyed state of shock, she glanced at Lady Une.

"It's too late, isn't it?" Her voice was disturbingly quiet.

With a soft nod, Lady Une confirmed it. Relena pressed her lips together, worry, agitation, but mostly blame creating shadows over her face. The jacket fell to the floor in a stiff heap, automatically causing Heero's vision to glide over the material in alarm.

Though she could've easily slid to her knees and sob, Relena locked her legs to keep from falling. Tongue darting out to wet her lips, suddenly so dry, she softly walked to the door, hand outstretched for the knob.

"I am going to have to tell the ministers now, maybe the news is still there..." She muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Thank you for showing me this immediately, Lady Une. Good night."

Feeling much too confused to say anything Duo inched to the computer, craning his neck till he could get a view of it. Skipping the few parts he knew to be least important, he read with widening eyes. Sometimes sending little glances at Heero, who remained looking after Relena, he finished murmuring to himself and raking his fingers through his bangs.

Shrugging, Dorothy followed her old companion, carelessly slipping a thick strand of hair over her shoulder.

"I'm going to leave now as well." Lady Une said tonelessly.

A set of footsteps echoed in the hall, joined by another.

Duo, mouth twitching with unsaid things, leaned his elbows on the table.

"I think I'll go, too. Good night, Heero, don't forget to lock up here." He muttered, upset, and drove his hands into his pockets.
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For a person with such a violent reaction to the information Dorothy had handled herself pretty coldly. Heero tilted his head to the computer, glaring angrily at its' screen. At the moment, he wanted to block the notion raving in his mind about the dangerousness of this new group of terrorists to carry it all so far as to execute.

Not to mention the fright it would cause worldwide; how could something so small expand so quickly? Blocking these thoughts included the shocked, horrified expression of Relena when she first understood the crisis; it had only lasted half a second, but seemed frozen in his memory. She had become something of a friend to the Nigerian politicians, and this was a hard blow.

In his opinion, the expression was a result of over exaggeration, since no one could feel so violently about people they had met less than a dozen times, and always under the influences of formalities. Heero studied a nick in the surface of the table; that had to be it. She over exaggerated too often - then he shook his head, as if reminding himself that it was a complete lie.

Tapping a key on the keyboard, Heero shut down the computer, knowing the information was deeply embedded in guarded files. Now, the room had no light at all, but it didn't matter. Through the last three weeks Heero had gotten to know the area well enough. He stood up, pushing the chair back, and stalked by the table and filing cabinets to the door.

His mission was over; he could return to the flat he temporarily called 'home.'

Why did that feel so wrong?
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The collar of his coat turned up, Heero plodded out into the streets, now crowded. He saw a group assembled around someone who he guessed to be Relena. Some looked towards him, but indifferently, thinking he didn't have much to say. They had their cameras and news vans dotting the street, ignoring the many 'No Parking' signs.

When someone in the group moved to a better angle for their camera, he did see Relena. Stopping, he observed the way her resigned manner went unnoticed by the rest; when someone crowded too close, he also saw Dorothy move forward and offer them a stinging glare.

Her jacket. Heero had hung it on his arm, and glanced down at it. The cloth had been starched to cardboard stiffness. Glancing back at Relena, eyes empty, shoulders stooped, answering questions in two or three words, he wondered how she would get to her limo, now parked at the curb and waiting. She wouldn't move herself from the pack, and it was already past ten o'clock. And it was beginning to get cold, while she wore only the flimsy blouse. With a scowl at how she always seemed able to interfere, if unintentionally, he stepped forward and elbowed his way through the group to Relena.

She glanced at him wordlessly.

"At exactly what time was the Nigerian President and his cabinet assassinated, Miss Foreign Vice Minister?" Her line of vision didn't move from Heero. They weren't assassinated in the terrorists' eyes, but rightfully executed. Ushered from the plane immediately after landing, they had been politely ordered to stand in front of a wall and had the choice of a blindfold.

"At four o'clock in Nigeria; six o'clock here, due to the time difference." She responded softly.

Heero pushed someone to the side to let him pass. Swiftly pulling an arm around her shoulders, he urged her through. Some people parted to make way for them, others had to be forced to move. Dorothy followed, curious as to the surprising gesture, closely behind. Minister Io and Davis, exchanging incredulous side glances, fell in with the three, replying to the questions cried out. Relena let herself be led out of the dense ring of people, now coming after in an excited rush.

But the curb wasn't far away. Heero's arm draped over her shoulders guided her from cameras and people to her car, the fingers of his hand curled lightly around her upper arm. Both kept their heads down.

Arriving at the car, Heero yanked the door open, and Relena slid in. Dorothy stopped at it, tilting her head to the side, and stared at Heero. He silently returned the cold, hard look and waited. Dororthy's mouth twisted into a grim smirk, leaving that as her thanks, and climbed in. Heero threw the jacket in after and shut the door.

The sounds of people exclaiming their displeasure at finding their resource unavailable came back to him and he left hastily, digging his hands into the pockets' of his coat.

A feeling of contriteness sank it into him; it still felt wrong to leave. He bitterly stomped off in the cold air of late evening.

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Silently trudging up the steps, Relena was thankful that Dorothy kept her tongue in check. An argument over her stay in Montreal, attending the high school, would have been least appreciated at the moment. After having been tartly called an "...ignorant fool..." to finish off the chaotic evening, all she wanted was the comfort of her pillow. The gruff reassurance of Heero gone, she pulled her coat closer around herself, though it did a poor job of replacing it.

Having gone another four steps without hearing anyone behind her, Relena looked over shoulder warily. Dorothy had insisted on coming along, and she was beginning to wonder what the sudden need for companionship really was.

The blonde had stopped a ways behind, staring deadpan into the grand hall leading to the back of the Peacecraft Mansion. The chandeliers, their crystals causing the light to bounce into each niche of the area, reflected off her pale face. In one hand she loosely held a suitcase, the surface of it scratched with travel.

Relena turned around, facing her, puzzled.

"Dorothy?" She would have asked more if not for the apprehensive feeling of being rude. Wanting to ask why she had even come, leaving the Catalonia estate, she thought that maybe she would explain willingly, without her nudging.

Anxiousness took hold. Dorothy had slowly, almost painfully twisted her head around. She really was pale; the corners of her mouth, turned down in a constant frown, twitched. Her blue eyes, usually reprimanding, smoldering, even arrogant, were profoundly changed. They were unsure, had clouded over with insecurity, and pleaded for help. She locked eyes with Relena, keeping her fastened in place. The intensity that represented Dorothy's normally strong character had fallen back, leaving the faltering void to be filled with a failing need.

All at once, the resolve returned to her eyes and composure, hardening quickly, acidic, glowering, angry. Dorothy, sneering, returned to staring out over the hall, breaking the eye contact abruptly in a way that suggested spite for herself.

Relena shook her herself, a warning going off in her head telling her not to pursue the odd thing that had just happened. She started going up the stairs again.

"I'll show you a room you can use." She gently said over her shoulder. After a moment, footsteps sounded behind her. Good.

For now, Dorothy was here. And until she felt she could trust herself enough to speak to Relena about her visit, she'd stay. Relena trotted down the corridor, the thick, red rug muffling each sound she made, to the east wing. Picking a room not too far from her own, she gestured to the door. Dorothy, suddenly morose, stopped a ways behind her, staring at the door.

A pause followed before she nodded, grasped the handle, and let herself in, shutting the door immediately behind her. Relena, at a glance down the way they had come, saw a butler trotting along. She waved him over.

"Miss Dorothy Catalonia will be staying in this room; please see to her comfort."
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I have a bad feeling as to how this went; either way, critizism would be appreciated as well as anything else!