Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and all its characters © Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, and TV Asahi. All fanfics are not for profit.

The Moon Can Keep a Secret
by kokopelle

Chapter 03

Whatever kind of force or magic the Roris Rescue Team used to fence the rabid media out the temporary Hab they put up for the Artemis passengers, Quatre was very grateful for it. As he heaved a tired sigh, he knew that the last thing he needed right now was to face a bunch of comments-hungry reporters. He was positive they came in wild droves, ready to pounce on any information that could be tweaked with a flavor of sabotage or something remotely related to the Eve War Armistice celebration.

Shaking his head, he looked up at the transparent roof to ward off the looming bad mood and smiled up at the waxing earthrise. The sight of it soothed him, like it was a friend he missed so much in the hours he spent trapped in the moon pit.

Sitting cross-legged on the canvassed floor of the tent, he glanced at Dorothy beside him. She looked as though she was already halfway into dreamland with her eyes lidded like that; the scent of hot chocolate from her mug seemed to be her last and only tether to wakefulness at the moment. He smiled despite himself. He believed her when she said she could take on all those mediamen, but he was glad the Med Team prohibited any of them to step outside until they were given the necessary check-ups and shots. Not that Dorothy was eager to be out the Hab—the moment they climbed out their Pod, she has discreetly used him as a crutch to get themselves over to where they were now sitting.

It was Preventer Agent Sally Po who monitored the two of them with full attention (she had traded her Preventers uniform for a sleek cocktail dress for the party, Quatre noted with slight amusement). She was trying to ignore Quatre's cannonade of questions at first, but she relented anyway: she said the Ball was ongoing and that not everybody has been informed of the Artemis incident, to avoid any fear about terrorists that may surface.

Before he could ask any more questions, Sally paced away from them to talk to a puffy-eyed Captain Clarke in a small makeshift 'office area'. The skipper has been crying her eyes out about her "beloved Artemis", and though he knew the passenger craft was far from being a war ally like his gundam, Quatre understood what she felt.

"Now that's something you can't really dispel," he heard Dorothy mutter. He scooted and lightly bumped his shoulder to hers.

"What?"

"Fear," she said, and he realized she was referring to the news about the attendees not being informed of what happened. "The fear that the peace you have fought so hard to achieve was only to borrow time, a fleeting period of serenity that you have to enjoy as much as you can before someone decides it has been too quiet, too…peaceful."

Clamping his mouth shut in a thin line, Quatre stared down at the contents of his own mug. He knew where this was going.

"There will always be a reason for starting a fight again, of course," Dorothy continued. "Reasons propped up by something deep, like strung-together beliefs from sister-philosophies, legacies from fathers, or a conviction borne from personal experiences. But these are secondary. At the root of it all is the fact that fighting is hard-wired into every human being's system. It's innate."

Quatre took a swig from his mug and winced at how the chocolate seemed to taste so bitter. "That may be so, but there's an explanation for those reasons. As long as we have someone to protect, as long as we have people we love, the instinct for needless fights will always be pushed in the backburner. Or maybe not," he shrugged when Dorothy raised a forked eyebrow. "Maybe it's always in the forefront, like you said. But again, don't you think the very reasons that drive it are what strip it away from being just a knee-jerk response to our nature? That these are what separate us from animals? Humans fight not merely because we can't help but not fight. Most people who march into battle are usually there because they don't want their loved ones to experience sorrow, to get hurt. The people who choose to fight…they are usually the ones who choose to love, too."

Dorothy flashed him a sad smile. "Love, of course. The best justification."

Quatre opened his mouth to retort, but his words dwindled away when Dorothy chuckled and set her mug on the floor. She looked straight into his eyes.

"Love is a dangerous drive, Quatre," she said in an undertone, as if what she was telling him was a secret. "Our hearts can't always be trusted. That 'follow-your-heart' advice, for instance, is constantly drilled into our heads, from pre-colonial shrinks and fairytale characters to dead colony leaders and pacifists. But see, they forgot something to attach to their precious one-sentence Life Manual: what should one do if one's heart is wrong? Should he stand by it if its reasons pull him into the fire, or should he turn away? We don't realize it, but oftentimes we love the wrong things. A person who has so much love gets goaded by all the desires of his heart. He is often blind to other obvious things he should be following or believing."

"Who gets to decide what's wrong or right, anyway?" Quatre muttered back, feeling a bit crushed. Dorothy is practically driving his purpose compass haywire. She was making him think back. Since when has it been wrong to love? Was there any instance in his life that his heart—his Space Heart—has been wrong? Or now that he thought about it, when has it ever been right?

"Am I confusing you?" Dorothy laughed softly.

He gave her a look of mock fatigue. "Congratulations."

"I'm sorry," she shot happily, tossing a handful of hair behind her shoulder. She motioned to link her arm around his when Sally, who has somehow snagged a Preventers jacket somewhere and put it over her dress, appeared next to them. Dorothy wrapped her arms around herself instead.

"Suit up now, kids. We're cleared," Sally announced, pocketing her phone. "We'll get you to the Hotel now. Expect a rough ride, though, since we can only use the mining rovers to get you there—using the lunar ambulances would only attract unwanted attention when we arrive at the Ball. You can still join the celebration if you want, but personally I don't think that will be a good idea. Those reporters are just going to interrogate you the whole time you're on the dance floor."

"Not in the mood to party anyway," Dorothy mumbled, glancing up at the other passengers who were also getting into their spacesuits. She grabbed the bulk of her own spacesuit and passed Quatre his.

"I think we will go straight to our rooms and rest," Quatre agreed. He wriggled clumsily into his suit, fighting back an oath that rose to his throat when he could not zip up at first. Frowning, he put on his helmet right away when he saw Dorothy watching him with a delighted smirk.

"All right, I'll leave you guys for now," he heard Sally said in a lightly muffled voice. "I heard our very stubborn Vice Foreign Minister has arrived to check what's happened here."

Dorothy arched an eyebrow at Sally's retreating form, murmuring something about how she has half-expected that of Miss Relena. Zipping up the suit to her neck, she looked at Quatre, who peered back at her through the darkness of his helmet. For the first time since they talked aboard the Artemis a few hours ago, he felt a bit uncomfortable again.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded, knowing his "Yes" would be muted to her.

"Why are you blushing?"

What? "I'm not!"

Oh, but of course he was. He could feel the heat scattering all over his face. Somewhere between their conversation about fighting and Sally's last announcement, her wondering stare has regained its powers over him. He did not know why, but he suspected it has something to do with the finality that suiting up has symbolized. They were now going back to their lives after this little accident. Would she remember the kiss? Did that kiss matter to her at all? Would things be different for them from now on?

While Quatre was wallowing in these questions, he did not see Dorothy stepping up to him. She furrowed her brow and let out a confused little giggle when she checked his suit's arm readouts, which registered increasing heart rate and body temperature. Shaking her head, she settled her hands on either side of his helmet.

"Dorothy," he breathed, a tad surprised when she touched him again. All right, technically, she was not touching him—just his helmet—but her closeness was enough to qualify as touching when there were suits involved. He was silently thankful that she has not put on her own helmet yet, because if she did, she probably heard through the intercom how unsteady his voice has become.

"Thank you," she said with utter sincerity, her voice curiously clear this time. "Thank you for everything."

She opened her mouth as if to launch into another speech, then hesitated. Quatre felt a tickle of a smile at the very un-Dorothy reaction, but it went stillborn when she tipped forward, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips against the faceplate of his helmet.

He froze.

Was…was that a kiss?

When she leaned back, they both stared at the blurry imprint of her lips on the glass. The moment it vanished, he blinked at her and pushed the faceplate's retract button, causing it to slide up to his brow.

"All right," she said, an embarrassed laugh bubbling up in her voice. "That was ultimately stupid and pathetic. Please don't tell anyone I did that."

"Don't worry. We won't."

Both of them jumped. As if his helmet has suddenly gone caustic, Dorothy immediately peeled her hands off him and twirled around at the source of the voice. Relena stood with her hands on her hips, not bothering to hide a toothy grin and tilting her head at them. Hovering close beside her was Heero, clad handsomely in his bodyguard uniform. His face was stony but his eyes burned with a thousand meanings.

"Miss Relena," Dorothy greeted, her voice unnaturally an octave higher than her normal tone. With her back to him, Quatre did not know how she maneuvered her facial expression, but he watched how her ears had gone scarlet.

"Hi, Miss Relena," he said weakly. "Heero."

"I see you're well," Relena greeted back, meaning it two ways. "I can't say I'm not surprised, but no need to worry. We can keep a secret. Right, Heero?"

Heero only hummed, a corner of his mouth slightly turning up higher than the other.

"It's not what you're thinking," Dorothy tried with zero conviction, knowing she sounded like a flighty teenager trying to explain herself.

"How do you know what we're thinking?"

"I don't. I just know that whatever it is, you're wrong."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"How?"

"I just do."

"That doesn't sound like you, Dorothy. You usually offer hard facts to support your claims."

"You should have removed your helmet," Heero interjected, forcing the others to turn their attentions to him. Quatre swiveled to his right and saw Heero staring intently at him.

"I, uh…" Quatre swallowed and shrugged, but the action was lost in the bulkiness of his suit. He glanced at the others. Dorothy was mildly surprised at Heero's advice, and Relena put a fist over her mouth to stifle her laugh. What should he say? He gazed back at Heero, praying so hard for his friend to get that if he wanted interrogation, they could choose a different time and place for it…

"She wasn't able to kiss you properly because of that."

Right. So much for thinking the guy would heed his silent request. It was either Heero was liking this too much, or he was in desperate need of a brief lecture on the proper moments to use his newly founded social skills.

"Unless you did not really want her to kiss you, hence the helmet…"

"Of course I want to!" Quatre said a little too fast. He threw a panic-stricken look at the ladies. "I mean…it's not like I'm expecting to…Well, I mean—"

"You also retracted the faceplate a few seconds too late."

Quatre wilted. "You noticed that, too."

"Were you expecting another kiss?"

Could the moon just crack open again and swallow him up right at this very minute? He could do nothing but bite his lower lip while avoiding eye contact.

"Stop that, Heero," Relena scolded in jest, swatting the man's arm lightly. "Let's go check on the others. I think I saw Senator Liang over there." She turned back to the blondes. "We'll see you two at the party?"

"I'm not sure," Dorothy answered in a jaded huff. "It's been a long day for us already. We could use some rest."

"Okay. But we'll need to catch up over tea after the party. I felt like there's so much to talk about."

Dorothy rolled her eyes, which the former Queen of the World took as a 'yes'.

"I'll see you then," Relena waved and winked. She faced Heero playfully as they walked away, and before they were completely out of earshot, Quatre thought he heard her teasing her bodyguard about their helmets and a kiss that could have been. He quietly filed it away in his head, figuring that he could use it if ever Heero brings up what they have inadvertently witnessed.

"Were you?" Dorothy asked suddenly, making him think he caught only the tail-end of her question.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Expecting another kiss?"

"…No."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly." He crossed his fingers behind his back.

"All right then," Dorothy chuckled, stretching her arms. As she slid on her own helmet, he wondered if he should have admitted how after that faceplate peck, he was a mere handful of seconds away from pulling her into a full snog before Relena and Heero piped in to announce their presence.

Sighing, he closed his helmet and turned on the intercom.

"—erba Winner," he heard Dorothy whisper through the tiny speakers. "Going so bold one minute, chickening out the next…"

Quatre cleared his throat. "I can hear you, Miss Dorothy."

"I know," she called back in a tone that told him she was rolling her eyes again. They saw Sally signaling to them near the airlock with a raised hand. Ambling towards the medic's direction, Dorothy shifted closer to Quatre and tapped at his elbow. "What do you say about a round of chess when we get back?"

"I may have to give you a rain check on that one," he responded truthfully. "I'm so tired I could pass out right now."

"All right."

It took him a moment before it clicked in his head: could that chess mean something more than just…chess? The girl sure loved her collection of metaphors. Suspiciously, he peeked at her and saw, under the grey shadows of her helmet, how innocent her sleep-veiled features were. He mustered just enough strength to not hit himself. When did he become so dirty-minded?

As they walked forward, he slowly felt like he needed to say one more thing to her. He grabbed her arm gently to bring her to a halt. "Can I make one last request before we go?"

She set her doubt-laced eyes on his grip on her. "If you're taking back what you said about not expecting one more—"

"Please stay?" he cut her off. "Please keep in touch? At least please let me try to be your friend?"

It might just be his imagination, but he thought her eyes go soft. "You need to work on your math. That's more than one request."

"Choose one then. It doesn't matter whichever you pick."

Her nod was lost when she threw back her head in a good-natured laugh—a happy music that swam in the insides of his helmet, his head. When she placed her hand over his, he knew in his ecstatic heart that all her indirect responses were enough.

FIN.

A/N: Thanks a lot to everyone who read/ reviewed/ favorited this story, I appreciate it! This chapter has been a little too uneventful compared to the first two, but I felt I needed to write this before I could completely wrap it up as a prequel to my much lighthearted ficlet series Love and Other Explosive Items, which I'm working on in installments (see my profile for more details). I hope you enjoyed it! See you in my next fic!

Trivia Tidbits:

1.) This fic was inspired by Arthur Clarke's classic story A Fall of Moondust. The skipper in my story, Captain Patricia H. Clarke, was a nod to Captain Pat Harris (the name of the skipper in my muse) and the author himself.

2.) Artemis is a Greek huntress-deity known as the twin sister of Apollo, a sun god. Her symbols include a golden bow and arrow and the moon. In A Fall of Moondust, the name of the spacecraft that ran aground was Selene. Selene was the name of the Greek goddess of the moon and she was closely identified with Artemis as much as her twin brother, Helios, was identified with Apollo.

3.) Of course, Heero and Relena were talking about their helmet scene in Episode 48! Ah, there could have been a real kiss if it weren't for those helmets... *waves 1xR flag*