Author: Becca W
Fanfic: Meat Hooks
Chapter: Ch.1

*Summary: This has no one-person standpoint - the story is told by at least three different people, though it is greatly seen through Mariemaia. This will, in the end, bring closure to the former pilot's lives as pilots of Gundams in AC 195 - to the information of their existence, at least. (Usual pairings apply, yaoi suggested). **

Disclaimer: *Wacks Disclaimer* Usual applies.

I have taken liberties with the characters concerning their ages, nothing else - I'm still going by the rules set by Endless Waltz. This will be apart from "Starting Over" - I'm nearly finished with that timeline but cannot help starting another :) . Anyway, I'm only making everyone age a few years, three at most. Let's say...Mariemaia is about to turn fourteen in a few months, ne?

Anyway, I want to thank everyone who read "Starting Over" for following it and reviewing. I had a lot of fun with that, and will probably edit a few of the chapters when I go past them, when I feel like it. Till then...

Enjoy!

The pointer wandered across the screen and a series of clicks followed in a neat procession as several programs opened for view. A bubble of quiet had surrounded the computer and its worker; the murmur of the room, loud even for computer analysts, was muted to his ears as his concentration bent at impossible angles to achieve many things at once. The pointer was put to rest and the keyboard became the target, the screen his viewpoint; using key commands to work and move things, not much else mattered but what he was up to.

Heero had to pause to shove his glasses further up his nose. The rims, black, plastic, square with rounded edges, framed his face in a stern manner; although they were unneeded, as his eyesight was fine, he preferred the shadow of unrecognizability it gave him. His conspicous person, open to doubtful whispers and wondering, thoughtful eyes at all times, was at least somewhat hidden by the unnecessary accessory.

His shoulders hunching up a bit, Heero felt the now-narrow lane of his mind gain that wonderful sense of direction it usually had when he did not want to think of anything else, when he felt he was kept busy by one or many related activities. This state of single-mindedness kept him on top of his work as well as enabling him to launch into his own, personal projects.

His mind quietly whirred while people walked by; it was the afternoon, time for workers to return home. He still had some things to finish, having gotten to them after he had satisfied himself with his personal rounds. This way, he could have the place to himself without checking over his shoulder for any bored or watchful pair of eyes.

Large companies had certain conformities to them; for example, an enorm majority of the workers of low to medium job levels would leave at approximately the same time, usually five minutes before rush hour. Those of greater positions had larger responsibilities that usually took their attention for a few more hours. Heero considered himself, in a slightly egotistical way, to be one of those of higher positions. Although he worked a simple job, done by literally hundreds of others of whom he was surrouned by five days of the week, the time he put into extra chores signified to him that he was playing the same field as the CEO.

And that was only half of it.

The number of things he found himself doing qualified him to run the company, technically, although his skills specified only certain regions of the supposed job. He knew codes, securities, site information and build, technological structure, and the accurate readings of a computer's complex DNA. Other than that, he was learning.

But the occupation was ideal for his situation. The total time he spent on real, company-oriented work was maybe six hours. The rest of the time was his own. Whatever he spent out of the business field he did through breaking security lines and breaching areas of his contract, but he could erase these tears in the system easily, leaving behind a trace not many could pick up on, much less do something with, even less likely actually finding him through.

And when he felt it to be appropriate, he left, leaving in his wake a bandaged and treated system.

Amazingly, his superiors - or those who preferred to call themselves his superiors - considered him to be the kind to overwork, commenting on his being, not only by culture and heritage, but also by obvious upbringing, Japanese, dismissing this as a logical reason for his working so late. They had no reason to suspect someone so low in their company, working such a monotonous, altogether boring job, to be of any sort of influence or risk to their person.

Thus, he found himself in the most perfect place he could be; immediately accounted for as an innocent, unacredited for for any happenings that could or might occur, Superman in the Clark Kent persona would have been of more suspicion than he ever would be, and, admittedly, he felt ever so slightly smug about that fact. Before, he had given such care to his never being discovered; now, he could risk a little sloppiness, if he wanted to. The chance of that happening was slim to none, though.

Besides his being in an invulnerable position, large companies were accepted as a mass of people; no one would see him as an individual unless they met him out of the office. Were they all to raise their arms above their heads and waggle their tongues at the wall, people might accept the action if they were all to do it in sync. Ridiculous, but the blind spots of human nature were easily hit.

Stretching, he realized it was past seven: a long two and a half hours had passed since his coworkers had left. The kinks and tensed muscle that had built up along his back and shoulders became aware to him and he stretched till he felt his ribcage pushing against his collar bone, head bent way over backwards to accomadate the action.

Time to go 'home'.

Her hands distinctly feeling the rawness of her skin against the tires of the wheelchair, Mariemaia tirelessly pushed herself along at a greater pace than usual. Once her shoulders and elbow joints felt sore enough, she would pause in some doorway or unused hall, attempting to stay politely out of the way of those who could walk, and push strands of hair from her face, panting lightly.

With pressed lips she would then continue, attacking the rug with a determination known to her bloodline. The room was only two halls down the way.

Only...

Two...

..damn...

More...

Shaking the hair from her eyes yet again, Mariemaia glanced up: 106. Only one more hall to go.

One more....

Come on....

She rarely felt impatient now-a-days: there were so few reasons for feeling the emotion that she had grown into the habit of not experiencing it at all unless, as was the case then, she was in a greater hurry then time would allow. Then, she would risk the possible runover toe or knocked knee to get wherever it was she was off to.

There. She had arrived. Pushing her hair behind her ears, she knocked at the door of room 112 and felt her luck when her legally acclaimed guardian, Lady Une, came to answer.

The woman regarded her slowly, consideringly.

"Yes, Mariemaia?"

"Lady Une, may I have a word with you?"

The lady paused before looking over her shoulder: a small table, visited only by two, worn-looking faces, was glimpsed by the margin of space her body gave at the door. They nodded, reaching for the coffee that accompanied their meeting, reluctantly. She nodded back and stepped outside. Once the door was shut behind her she grabbed the handlebars of the wheelchair and wheeled Mariemaia down the hall in the direction she had been heading in.

They came to a window overlooking the Preventer Headquarter's grounds. Lady Une observed it quietly, Mariemaia knowing she was simply waiting, biding her time, for when she would speak or ask for what she had interrupted a meeting for. It had been the first time the girl had ever disturbed Lady Une in business; Mariemaia was aware of her guardian's importance to and presence in the base.

Mariemaia was also unfavorably direct when she felt the need to be.

From a loosely-knit, polyester pouch hanging from one side of her wheelchair she pulled a large envelope; it had already been opened and gone through. Lady Une took it, her lips puckering into musing wonder: whatever had put that strange sheen in the girl's eyes must have been of considerable weight.

She recognized the name of the sender. Her expression void, she quickly slipped her fingers in and took hold of the contents. With Mariemaia's face, still young looking even with the added years, staring up at her and her own curiosity unsatiated she read through the letter and what had been attached. It took her ten minutes; in that time, neither moved but for the flick of Lady Une's wrist when she flipped the page of what she was reading to the next.

When she was finished, she slipped the letter and information back into their envelope. Mariemaia took it, settling it back into its pouch still staring up at her with a searching, even eager expression.

Lady Une's hand reached down to take Mariemaia's; she gave it a squeeze.

"I'm very sorry we cannot talk about this in detail right now: Mr. Lammer and his party are waiting for me." Till then she had looked out the window they had stopped at, most of Mariemaia's more apparent eagerness undiminished. Next, though, she kneeled on the floor by the wheelchair and looked into the girl's clear eyes with an odd depth of understanding in her own. "But the moment I'm finished...wait for me."

Mariemaia nodded, a tiny smile flickering over her face.

"Did you think it would work?" Lady Une rose to her feet again while Mariemaia asked her this. She brushed the material of her pants at the thighs.

"Truthfully, my faith had been rattled." Lady Une said. Mariemaia felt her wrist touch against the back of her neck. "I'm glad I was wrong this time." The girl nodded again.

"I know." She stroked her knees absently, the fingertips of her hands brushing against her own suit slowly. "He said there already was an improvement."

"Hmm." A sudden, grateful look settled over the girl's face, curling her mouth into another smile, wispier than the last, her head tilting with a dreamer's pleasantly blank, yet emotionally choked expression. She was very thankful, very pleased.

At a pat on her shoulder the expression vanished as suddenly as it had found a way onto her face; looking up blandly, Mariemaia excused herself from Lady Une's company and thanked her for her time. Lady Une nodded and wheeled the girl as far as room 112 again, knowing she would be well off on her known afterwards.

While Lady Une went on with her own business affairs and the girl made an exit of the hall, leaving by elevator, ID in hand in case anyone asked of it. The main rush of excitement was barely over; she had hurried over as soon as possible, this being the most important news she had in her possession to tell since it counted. Now, she felt a sense of congeniality spreading through her body. -

Especially towards doctors.

She realized it might not have been the best move, but she had noted the look of relief issuing from Lady Une's breathy exhale after she had read the letter. It was a good feeling, to have given her a reason to be relieved.

Little things could account for so much sometimes, it was crazy.

Still in the elevator, Mariemaia watched the dial over the arch of the elevator doorway blink each time it passed a floor, head craned uncomfortably to do so. The letter at her side seemed to be looming next to her, prepared to scare a person off from around her, somehow capable of lifting an ax and attacking something. Lady Une was not the only one who had received extremely pleasant news; Mariemaia felt a good deal of the brunt of it. Of course - she had the most reason to.

Ever since she was ten, Mariemaia had felt a great amount respect for Relena Dorlian. True, it had come with pain, sadisticly wry humor and loss on both person's parts, but the girl knew the other to be her senior in ways that lacked the correct terms. Naturally, the solace and comfort she brought with her was undoubtedly part of it: very few could not feel that sense of her personality seep out from her, even fewer could help not being affected by it. Her awkwardly rigid poise and the formalities she used gave way to seeing a person inside her body that was fierce and sometimes, frightening in its wisdom, however checked by the still-foolish heart of a young person learning the ways out of naivity.

After respect had been drawn up admiration took root. Mariemaia remembered a fear she had felt that she knew, in a part of her mind, to have been shared by the older girl at the exact same time; and yet, the other had not only faced it, but faced it down, had accepted it when Mariemaia could not have if she had tried, not having been able to move or speak either at the time. For that strange courage one wished a soldier to have but that would never have been imagined fit for her, Mariemaia admired her.

Other than knowing as well as any adult heavily involved in politics the beliefs and laws with which Relena Dorlian governed herself and her position in the world, she was relatively unaquainted with her. The personality of the older girl was unfamiliar territory, but Mariemaia had resigned herself to such ignorance with little more than a shrug: what should she care, their relationship was that of aquaintances. She had no reason to become any closer.

Of course, people always surprised each other. They always managed to do so in some situation or other.

Lady Une was the first to do so: unlike her other visits to the Vice Foreign Minister, she took Mariemaia with her. The girl guessed the Lady to have considered this the time in her young life to experience a larger region of the field of politics, having no doubt in her mind that Mariemaia would grow up to be anything but an active participant in politics. The mistrust she had placed into the world's heart at the early age of ten had not quite melted away, even this far along, but most agreed that, as a child, and under the protection of someone equivalent to a tyrant, she could not be given the entire amount of fault at what had, or had almost, happened.

The Vice Building, rooted solidly into the ground on a flat plain of land, rose up but did not manage to loom as it should have. Another story to its present two-story height would have been an impressive addition, but Mariemaia dismissed the thought as she entered, Lady Une at her side, a stranger pushing her wheelchair. Hands folded in her lap, she felt her face drain of heat at the presence of the building. Heat as in her expression cooled into something blase, unpreoccupied; not in the least did she pale.

Relena Dorlian met them before they had gone to deeply in: she reached her hand out towards Lady Une before she was three steps away, eyes making a quick study of the surprise that was Mariemaia. She ushered them into a private room that was empty. Mariemaia puzzled at that, having thought the purpose of her being there to be brought up at a later time.

Then again, now was as good a time as any. Relena Dorlian pulled a chair out of the way around a coffee table, making room for the younger's wheelchair, before sitting down and crossing her ankles over the other once she got comfortable.

"Lady Une, what may I help you with?"

Up until just a few months before, Mariemaia had always associated her guardian's occupation automatically linked with Relena Dorlian's. But politicis failed to create a web among its many minions: they rarely touched in the job and only came together at crisis, and this could certainly not be a crisis; no one but themselves occupied the room. An emergency would have required an entire staff specialized on the subject people were alarmed over. And Mariemaia certainly would not have found herself among them, not yet.

The girl's glance flickered up to rest on Lady Une's placid face, eyes keen and sharp as her own. Her curiosity had mounted in the few minutes they had spent, in waiting, watchful silence, in the room with the Vice Foreign Minister.

Finally, Lady Une's body leaned forward as she propped her elbows on her knees. She cleared her throat, meeting Relena Dorlian's direct gaze with her own.

"I need to ask a favor." She said. The Vice Minister's head tilted to the side, a comical action in Mariemaia's eyes, and she indicated for Lady Une to go on. The Lady paused in consideration of what she would say before she spoke.

"As I am about to leave on an expedition of sorts concerning Preventer business, I made preparations for the trip and have attempted to have Mariemaia along with me. To be brief, I cannot take her with me and need to leave her in someone's care." Now, her eyes watched Relena Dorlian's steadily, cautious about any reactions. None came.

Meanwhile, Mariemaia's head had snapped up to stare at Lady Une with a sort of horror and unpleasant surprise depicted in her eyes and around the corners of her mouth, downturned in a grim manner. She had come to trust and depend heavily on the Lady whether she would ever admit to such in length or not. She noticed all too soon that Relena Dorlian was taking in her reaction as well as what Lady Une was saying: she seemed ambidextrous when it came to giving people her attention, splitting it as evenly as one could an apple.

Mariemaia's eyes remained fixed on the Lady's face for some time - an unfeeling face at the moment - before settling back to her knees, then lifting to the coffee table, where it staid. She listened without moving either head or body for the rest of the conversation.

"Although I know you to be investing most of your time in your activities, I would like to trust her with you. If you would, that is. I would be gone two months, two and a half at most." For the first time since they had entered Lady Une turned to Mariemaia, who was staring hard at the coffee table surface. "She won't be any trouble. I would be very grateful, and reassured, if you have her for the time needed."

Relena's eyebrows had, since then, pulled up to reveal astonishment. She and Lady Une had never been close. They had respect and faith in each other, but that went as far as business went. In a far part of her mind she dimly, vaguely remembered this person, sitting so demurely yet professionally in her seat, to have been a great enemy to her, to have done terrible things, to have killed one of the greatest influences in her life. But those were thoughts immediately squelched, as they did not account to her final decision. It had been years, and Lady Une had long ago repented on her name, on Treize's, on Mariemaia's, even.

It took her a while to think it through. Every so often she would look up at Mariemaia, but the girl was motionless. At her age she still looked young, young and abnormally strange, old somehow. Her hair had begun to hang forward in her face, but she did not seem to take notice.

Relene wondered if the girl would agree to the terms. She had not known of Lady Une's decision, that much was clear. That she had not told her surprised Relena even further, but Lady Une always had a reason for her actions. She did not dare ask what the business trip would revolve around; her rank did not give her the power to access such information, no matter if it helped make a quicker decision.

Lady Une's eyes were calm, but she could tell, they had hope. Lady Une was hoping for her to say "Yes", to agree. Why? Could faith and respect really come to that much, could it really move a person to go out on a limb like that?

Then again, she was not asking to do anything extraordinary. She needed someone trustworthy who could take care of her charge for a time. That was not so much to ask for, was it?

Relena reached a decision in under ten minutes.

"Lady Une, although this comes as a surprise, I will take Mariemaia in for the time you're gone - if she agrees." Both Lady Une and Relena fastened their eyes on Mariemaia, who looked up dumbly, waiting for the answer to come out of her mouth without her having to make any effort to make her tongue move.

"I don't mind." Mariemaia noted the small sign of relief in Lady Une's eyes. It must have been the right decision.

Lady Une turned back to Relena Dorlian.

"There are just some specifics we need to go over. It's about a medical treatment Mariemaia is receiving..."

I know, you're probably thinking "Oh Lord, she's going to walk in the next chapter from some miracle drug" but you're (_very_) wrong if that's what you think.

Anyway, thank you very much for reading, I appreciate it a heck of a lot!!! ^_^