Relena/Heero. Non-dark, despite title. Heero wants to be able to say, "Mission accomplished," but can he bring himself to complete his assignment? Mission Summary: Destroy Relena.
A whirling cloud of brilliant blue silk waltzed by, giggling. The sweetest fragrance followed the bright vision, wafting by with the delicate fingers of lilacs. Heero's sensitive nose twitched as his fingers tightened around the cold handle of the PP7 hidden deep inside his pocket.
A taunting smile haunted his face as Heero stood there, legs splayed slightly apart, unconsciously imitating the famous secret agent whose trademark gun he held. His black tuxedo was conventional, and his wild hair jutted more gently tonight, subdued with some mousse that Duo had insisted on working into Heero's hair.
"Oh, Lieutenant!" the girl said, tilting her head to gaze into the eyes of the tall and handsome young man leading her into the waltz. "You're just so funny!"
The man flushed a bit and said something in a low voice, mouth nearing Relena's ear.
Heero's eyes flickered, and his fingers released the gun, choosing instead to ball into a fist.
I will destroy you, Relena Peacecraft.
The silly chit, dancing by so happily in the arms of that damned officer-- what a pity she doesn't know she'll die. But tonight; tonight I can finally say, "Mission accomplished." Tonight I can finally--
Finally tonight, Heero could sleep well and not worry about the haunting blue eyes that sparkled in his dreams. He could finally doze without hearing her voice, seeing her face, watching her tears . . . the overhanging sense of confusion that invaded his brain during idle moments would be gone with the last beat of her heart. His mouth turned upward again, and he took his hand out of his pocket to grip the base of the champagne glass.
The lieutenant's hands tightened on Relena's tiny waist, half-hesitantly and half-defiantly. Relena gasped a little, but her eyes twinkled merrily at the officer. The music seemed to race, just as Heero's heart began to quicken . . .
Damn, but she has to choose this night to loosen up, Heero thought darkly.
It was true; the normally serious Relena was giggling like the schoolgirl she should have been years ago, before the war whisked her away to adulthood; her eyes were overbright, and her laughter was artificial. It was almost as if she were proving herself to someone, and his identity was evident through her sidelong glances at the dark figure seated at the table, legs relaxed and eyes cold.
Heero threw his head back to finish his glass of champagne. I will destroy you, Relena.
The waltz ended, and Relena pulled her partner to the punch bowl, placing a hand to her head. Immediately, a crowd of young men surrounded her, vying for her attention. True, three of them were Gundam pilots, and one was her brother, but from Heero's vantage point, it looked like she was a bright light surrounded by flitting moths . . .
Light. The light streaming from the chandeliers formed a halo of softness around Relena's streaming blond hair. She wore it swept up into an expertly-coiffed bun, blond curls falling in a cascade. The light caught on the sparkling diamond pendant she wore, casting a tiny rainbow. Heero shook his head to clear his eyes; what was he thinking?
It's Relena, little boy. No weakness. I want to destroy her . . .
He rested his chin in his hand. Dark and light; they were like complements to each other. He was so dark, full of pain and pent-up emotions; and she was a beautiful angel, sent from heaven to bring light and a rainbow into his dark world. And he was resisting the whole way, shielding his eyes from her brilliance. Living in the darkness for years makes light seem like poison.
No weakness; weakness brings you nothing but pain.
She was poison; she was intoxicating like a drug that he was addicted to, whether he liked it or not. He knew it; her quiet dignity was really what struck him most, and it never ceased to amaze him as he found new aspects to her complex personality.
The only way out of this addiction was death. And he'd be hanged if he'd try suicide.
No, it would be her death, the pretty little filly laughing so tantalizing over at the other side of the room.
Heero felt the cold steel of the revolver between his fingers; he caressed it.
But dammit, why didn't she look over at him? He needed to see those eyes turned on him once more to remind him of his resolve; she was seawater, salty and corrosive, the water itself sweet and life-giving. Together the two were fatal, and the dying man who greedily lapped at the ocean would meet his doom. Yes, that was why destruction was the answer.
And then the thirst-driven Heero received his wish; she turned and looked-- glanced straight at him. Even from across the room, he could see the deepness of her blue eyes and the sparkle in them as she winked, laughing. Her gaze locked in with his, and he took in a sharp breath.
No weakness.
I will . . . love you, Relena.
Allowing a genuine smile to caress his lips, Heero raised his wine glass in a mock toast to the girl.
-- Tayasu --
Copyrighted/Written: December 24, 2000. Disclaimer: Standard. If I owned Heero, I certainly would not hand him over to Relena. *glares at psycho blondie* Away, you stalker! You leave us alone! *glomps Heero* A/N: First things first, "tayasu" translates as "to exterminate" in Japanese, which I thought was the perfect word to use for this story. Secondly, the PP7 is James Bond's weapon of choice. Lastly, I personally don't like Relena, but I wrote a fluffy little fic about the two of them anyway. ^_~;; I'm not sure; was this too dark? Ack! How can something be darkly fluffy?! *sighs* Thanks to: my wonderful spell-check. E-mail:[email protected]or[email protected] Warning: Any and all flames of "OOC!" will be taken as jokes and promptly deleted. Characters are always open to personal interpretation. If I am a jewel, as a dear friend once flirtatiously dubbed me, I am an opal. Fiery ice swirling in the milk-white of innocence. Passion and compassion. Myself to the core." Surprisingly enough, I wrote that. It's just to clarify any questions on my strange pen-name.
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