Author’s Note: A thousand apologies for the delay on this
fic!! I can give a thousand reasons,
including a well-timed
and well-aimed flame (ouchie
someone really hurt my feelings), problems with my websites, work on other
projects
etc. But I will finish this fic (nervous laughter). Thanks so much to everyone who’s written me
expressing an interest
and gently nudging me to continue
this project.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ordinary World
By Midii Une
Chapter 3
The slender black permanent
marking pen twirled gracefully over and between Duo’s fingers, he tossed the
pen up and
caught it. Tossed it up in the air behind his back and
caught it.
He waited while Tania went
through her freshening up ritual. And
the whole time Treize stared down at him
complacently. The guy had turned out to be a freaking hero
and Duo still wasn’t sure how that had happened. He
didn’t understand Treize
Khushrenada. Had Linnea?
He made a face at the permanently
smiling face in the portrait. It would
be so easy, Duo thought, unconsciously
leaning forward, so easy to pop
the top off that black pen and just draw a little mustache . . . right . . .
about . . .
“Oh my God!! Lady Une,” Tania
shrieked, dropping her lipstick and jumping to her feet. She wondered if she
should
salute.
Duo turned guiltily toward the
door, the black pen leaving a squiggly black line that marred the starched
white shirt
buttoned beneath Treize’s painted
chin.
“Uuuhhhh,” Duo stuttered, turning
to face Lady Une.
“You,” she questioned, furrowing
her brow. “You’re Duo Maxwell.”
“Yeah,” Duo said, his confident
grin returning as she stuck out a hand to shake. He wasn’t as polished as Quatre but he
knew a few of the formalities.
Lady Une ignored the outstretched
hand and pulled her glasses from a pocket of her jacket, she peered through
them
at the black mark on the
painting. She sighed and shook her head, before tucking the glasses back in her
pocket and
turning back to Tania.
“Where is Liz,” she demanded,
tilting her head toward the office door.
“This is urgent.”
“You should call her Linnea,” Duo
muttered. “That is still her name.”
“Why are you here,” Lady Une
sighed, flicking her gaze back toward the outrageous young man.
“Same as you,” Duo shrugged. “But I’ve got the feeling we’re not going to
find what we’re looking for here.”
Both of them turned toward the
unlucky Tania who stared at them with an attempt at wide-eyed innocence. But even
the scatter-brained girl was
beginning to realize that this sort of irresponsible behavior was not like the
quiet, serious
young woman she worked for.
Lady Une seated herself in a
leather-upholstered armchair before the desk and folded her hands. The young secretary
gulped and silently offered an
apology for what she was about to tell and her eyes moved nervously between the
seated
woman and the young man leaning
against the wall.
“Well,” Lady Une prompted, her
anxiety eroding the very last of her patience.
“Surely you got some indication from
Professor Evans that we could be
experiencing a situation of sorts. It
isn’t like her to disappear, especially at a time
like this.”
“How would you know,” Duo
muttered again, somewhat bitterly before Lady Une’s other words caught his
attention.
“Hey! Whaddaya mean by situation
anyway,” he yelled.
Lady Une sighed. He was here, he might as well know. He had been a Gundam pilot after all.
“Liz,” she faltered, as Duo
scowled. “Linnea and I were discussing
what appears to be weapons manufacturing in the
L3 cluster and I haven’t talked
to her since. I told her I’d get back
to her but no one’s seen her since late Monday
afternoon. In fact, security shows she never left her
office.”
“Holy shit,” Duo whispered, all
of them turning to look at the closed door. Were there answers behind it?
The face of the young Gundam
pilot changed almost visibly Lady Une thought, watching him sharply. His casually cocky,
annoyed attitude transformed to
cold determination before her eyes. The
door crashed down with a well-aimed kick
that startled Une and Tania
before they crept up to stare into the empty room, it was cold inside, a window
behind the
desk was wide open and papers
swirled silently about. A red light
signaling messages blinked on the desk.
Tania bent over and twisted the
doorknob of the fallen door. “It wasn’t
locked,” she said, looking at Duo with a
mixture of awe and disapproval.
What fools we’ve been, Duo
thought to himself angrily. Did we
think because we beat one enemy no one else would
step into the void? He and Quatre had tiptoed around Linnea,
when they should have been protecting her. This little
farce of hers and Lady Une’s had
prevented nothing. He couldn’t help but
smile at the irony. He’d laughed at
Heero’s
avoidance of Relena over these
months while hiding his own problems under a mask of good humor. Sure give all
of
them an army of mobile suits to
face and no problem. But when emotions,
war and peace mingled it was a bad mix.
Kinda like drinking beer then
whiskey, or was that whiskey then beer?
Whatever it was it was just the same, the
combination producing a sick
feeling in his gut that he didn’t know how to deal with.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Journal of Leia Barton
June 16, AC 188
I want to remember this day. Are words truly needed? Shall I ever forget? Still, all that happened should be
recorded. It is over.
He is gone. But I want to
remember, remember every moment. Treize
. . .
Rain splashed on the windows, the
sound like a torrent of wine splashing in a fine crystal glass. My own eyes stung
with teardrops like that late
spring rain. He is leaving. Never
before have I wanted to abandon my career as a nurse
but if he should ask I would
gladly follow. Those eyes of his are
hidden behind heavy lids; he tries to disguise the fact
that he is watching me. Treize knows how I feel, that if he asked I
would give him my very self.
Those who fight here are
fools. The Alliance General Septem will
use this storm to hide his mistakes. My
father is no
better, he and his lackey Quinze.
I hate them, truly. Father tries to
control us and Trowa has fallen so easily under his
spell. My younger brother is
tempted by thoughts of universal sovereignty for the Barton family.
But, I did not want to think of
these things, not in my last hours with Treize.
Even for a patient about to be
discharged, vital signs must be checked regularly. I lifted my chin and looked into his
face, trying to keep up a façade
of professionalism as my fingers circled his wrist, timing his pulse. The blood in his
veins beneath my touch raced and
pounded as I’d never felt it before and as I watched him I felt a touch on my
own
wrist. “It’s happening, it’s happening,” my thoughts raced and my mouth
turned dry.
We spoke no words and I pulled
away from him, feeling his eyes boring into me, as if they could see through to
the
pale pink lingerie beneath my
uniform. Why did I wear such a thing
today? My fingers cling to the cord
that controls
the Venetian blinds at the window
and almost without thought I pulled it gently until the room fell into a dim,
artificial dusk. I wanted to go to him but my feet seemed
fastened to the floor. Can I take this
step, I wondered, my
head bent to study the lines in
the cold, tile floor. I felt a touch on
my shoulder, his fingers caressing my neck and
then his breath on my cheek and the
touch of his lips against my hair.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Linnea shut the book, her cheeks
burning with something that was a combination of shame and jealousy and
loss. She
had loved Treize too, part of her
had loved him as Leia had, as Lady Une still did with all her heart.
Her eyes scanned the opulent
bedroom. Was this Leia’s room? Where
was she now? Could she help her or
would she
hate her? She rubbed a slender
hand over the back of her neck, it was so late and despite the adrenaline
racing through
her system Linnea was
exhausted. But the little book with its
tale of secrets called.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Journal of Leia Barton
March 12, AC 189
I never thought I would see those
eyes again. That unreal shade of blue,
the brows curving over them with a
distinction and presence that I
still believe no other man could ever attain.
Especially not my father, with his
pretensions of grandeur.
But those eyes are before me
again. They are my daughter’s
eyes. My darling Mariemaia. I shall protect you from
your grandfather’s
influence. You are his daughter and he
is the personification of honor and chivalry.
You must be
like him, my dearest child. In this prison of a house you are my only
light, my only happiness. I have shamed
my
father with what he calls “a
disgusting fling with a nobody of a soldier.”
He doesn’t know that someday Treize will
achieve all that he desires. A world of peace, peace that he will bring
about.
I know somehow that we will never
meet again. But I have my memories and
I have Mariemaia . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
X-18999.
That’s one of the newer colonies,
Hilde thought to herself, perusing the parts request from Barton
Conglomerate. A
new customer and where was
Duo? Off chasing some other girl. That’s not fair, she scolded herself, he’s
never crossed
the line with you. But she knew something was there between
them, however intangible it was it still existed. A
connection, a feeling that was
more than the friendship both of them hid so desperately behind. He had saved her life
and she knew she would do
anything for him, including letting him find happiness with someone else.
For a moment Hilde felt noble and
virtuous. She loved Duo and she wanted
him to be happy, but her good intentions
faltered. No, damnit.
She wanted him to be happy with her, not some girl from his past that
carried tons of emotional
baggage with her. Hilde leaned back in the chair and dragged
her fingers through her thick, blue-black hair, tugging
almost painfully at the short,
glossy locks before shaking her head and returning her attention to the issue
at hand.
There was nothing in the order
she couldn’t handle and getting out of here for a few days would make the
waiting that
much easier.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The little girl studied the young
woman, asleep on the bed. Her bright
blue eyes narrowed in a combination of anger at
the intruder in a place that was
sacred to her and with the natural curiosity of a child.
She was ignored until her
grandfather needed her. Then he trotted her out dressed in a miniature copy of
his own
formal attire. It was easy to be what he wanted her to
be. Grace under the spotlight seemed to
be in her blood and
she effortlessly played the role
of the domineering little aristocrat.
But sometimes memories of love
and affection came to her in dreams. And an uneasy feeling that her lost mother
wouldn’t be happy with what she
had become. But despite all her
maturity and the advantages of good genes,
Mariemaia Barton-Khushrenada was
only a child. A motherless child who
had no one to rely on except a power-crazed
man who had no real feelings for
her.
She heard things, Mariemaia heard
everything. Grandfather hated this
girl, this girl who slept in her mother’s bed.
She
herself came here often, if she
went into the large closet she could press her face against her mother’s satin
robes and
recall long-ago embraces and
smell the dim memory of a sweet scent that brought back her mother’s love. She had
been loved once but that
recollection was becoming buried deeper and deeper in her little heart until
soon it would be
lost forever.
The strawberry-haired little girl
didn’t flinch as the girl on the bed blinked sleepily, staring at her as if she
were part of
a dream . . .
Treize’s eyes. They were looking at her with an odd
detachment, as if he were seeing her for the first time. But
something was missing; there had
always been something in Treize’s eyes. Something vital, the key to his very
being.
Linnea drew a hand over her face
and blinked. It was a child.
“You were my father’s whore?” a
small knowing voice asked, the young redheaded girl studied her with a mixture
of
disdain and deep interest.
She smiled at the shock on
Linnea’s face. Mariemaia had learned
from the best how to take pleasure in having the
advantage over someone. Everyone was always so surprised at
discovering her odd, unnatural maturity. She was only 7
years old.
“You’re wondering how I know such
a word. My grandfather, Dekim, is very
angry with you I heard him shouting and
that’s what he called you. I don’t know what it means but it must be
bad,” the child confided smugly.
“He’s sending you away, far
away,” she continued. “To one of those
ugly resource satellites.”
“Mariemaia,” Linnea whispered,
unable to tear her eyes away from those of the strange child’s.
The child’s eyes grew large and
followed Linnea’s glance at the little book on the bed beside her.
“How did you know that,” the girl
asked, her voice childish and hopeful suddenly as the sound of footsteps echoed
in
the vast hall outside the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There had always been something
about circuses; they brought such simple joy and pleasure in a world that was
so
technical and complicated. But circuses were just fun and thrilling in
a way that made her heart pound with
anticipation and made her smile
as well. It was astounding, the things
the performers could do.
Hilde looked around the huge
yellow tent and popped another piece of buttered popcorn into her mouth, could
this be
the same circus she had attended
with Duo once? It seemed so long ago,
during the war, but it seemed so familiar.
“Oh gosh,” she whispered aloud as
the lights went dark only to fade up to a spotlight on a boy and girl on a high
wire.
Her murmured words were lost in a
soft rush of other voices. They were
amazing, graceful and daring. Hilde was
unaware that she held her breath
and that she had risen slightly from her seat on the hard metal bench.
Trowa Barton, she thought,
admiration lighting her eyes as she recognized Duo’s friend. She’d met him on MO-II at the
end of the war, she wondered if
he remembered.
It would be nice if he did. She didn’t like being alone on this
colony. X-18999 had an odd quality
about it, maybe it was
the newness and the ongoing
construction, but Hilde didn’t think that was it. The very people seemed sinister and
intense, not like the easygoing
people who inhabited the other colonies she’d visited. The people here seemed to
have a hidden purpose and didn’t
have the time to enjoy the simple things in life. Like tonight for instance, this
wonderful show and the place was
less than half full.
She licked a buttery finger
thoughtfully and waited while the sparse crowd filed from the tent.
The sound was swift, powerful and
sickening and Hilde thought she heard a grunt of human pain. Nervously she paused
in the darkness, her stomach
turning a bit at the sound as she clutched the canvas of the wall beside
her. Her blue
eyes widened as she peered around
the incongruously cheerful yellow fabric and her mouth formed an O of surprise
and
shock. Two men lay gasping on the sawdust floor. Hilde whirled and was caught in a pair of
arms, unyielding and hard
with muscle. Sweat from his naked chest seeped slowly
into the thin cotton shirt she wore and when she raised her
frightened face to his the green
eyes flickered with vague recognition.
Hilde didn’t realize she’d been
shaking until he took his hands away and she swayed slightly.
“What’s going on,” she hissed,
glancing back over her shoulder at the men writhing on the floor like a pair of
beached
trout.
“Hilde isn’t it,” Trowa said at
last, remembering he’d seen this girl with Duo on Peacemillion. She nodded and felt his
hands on her arms again, rough
and insistent, almost urgent.
“Where’s Duo,” he asked, his
voice soft and controlled, belying the tension in his touch.
When she told Trowa Duo was on
Earth, she thought he was going to hit something before his unreadable mask
fell back
into place and Hilde wondered if
she’d overreacted. Still those men . .
. she was sure Trowa was upset . . . but about
what?
“So,” he said, steering her away
from the dark corner of the tent, “did you enjoy the show?”
She blinked, and then
smiled. “Yes, very much,” she said,
heat coming into her face as she became very aware of his
hand against her bare skin. She’d said she could fall for him once and
it was true. He had to be one of the
handsomest
boys she’d ever seen. What girl
wouldn’t notice that body, those eyes and that hair that dared you to push it
aside and
see what he’d say then?
He was talking but she wasn’t
really hearing, lost in her thoughts.
Not until he told her to leave.
“But Trowa,” she protested,
reaching out to grab his arm.
“Something’s happening, I want to help.”
“What about Duo,” Trowa said
slowly, seeming to consider her offer.
“I don’t think he’d want you messed up in this.
I’m not sure myself how deep this
goes . . .”
“If Duo were here you’d bring him
in on this, wouldn’t you,” Hilde said.
Trowa looked thoughtful. “Why are you here anyway,” he asked and the
wheels in his analytical mind began turning as
soon as she explained about the
parts order and what those parts were and whom they were for. It wasn’t a difficult
conclusion to reach for someone
who’d worked around mobile suits all his life. His suspicions were confirmed.
Two pairs of eyes were definitely
better than one and to his recollection this slim and persistent young girl had
some
military background.
“Fine,” Trowa said, turning on
his heel and walking away as Hilde trotted along behind, trying to keep up with
his
longer stride. “We’re enlisting in the Barton Youth Corps.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mariemaia was right. The resource satellite was ugly and barren
and unwelcoming. Linnea sat restlessly
on a straight-backed wooden chair before getting up to pace the small room
again. Okay, she was here. Now what?
She looked around and saw only a desk, computer and coffee pot. A coffee pot. Someone obviously knew her.
She knew it was silly but she had
to do it, it was better than doing nothing.
Linnea went to the door and yanked hard on the knob, shaking the door
slightly in its frame. She turned a
little pale when someone on the other side opened it at exactly the same time.
Her eyes widened in
recognition. Vier. She tried to get past him and out the open
door but he grabbed her arm, slammed the door and locked it again. Linnea yanked her arm away, shuddering a
little from the cool, unwanted touch of his fingers and the diamond-hard look
of hate in his eyes.
The engineer reached a hand to
touch a stray curl that dangled near her cheek and Linnea raised her free hand
and slapped his smirking face. He
touched the spot and smiled. That was
the best she could do, without Khushrenada’s support she was virtually
powerless. He watched her retreat to a
far corner of the small room.
He poured her a cup of
coffee. “Drink this. We have a long night ahead of us,” he said
to her.
She took it from him, wanting to
refuse but needing the rush of caffeine to be able to think straight. This was bad. Very bad. He hated her,
he had hated her from the first.
“Styrofoam? Didn’t you learn
anything from His Excellency, Vier,” she asked sarcastically, turning the small
white cup in her hand, trying not to let him see her fear. And she was afraid, very afraid. Her hand shook a little as she gulped the
coffee down quickly.
“Treize Khushrenada is dead,”
Vier said shortly. “You’re going to
help me now. Help me put together an
unstoppable force. Surely you must be
anxious to create again. Only this time
I’m taking the credit. When I had the
option to hire an assistant the first person I thought of was you Linnea. You can be so helpful, in so many ways.”
Next time on Ordinary World . . .
Linnea finds an unexpected ally . . . Hilde gets Trowa out of hot water . . .
hopefully
this will all happen sometime this year ^_^, seriously I’ll try to get back to this soon.