Dislcaimer: To own GW is a dream, and only a dream.......



(This happens three days after the Sunday when Relena returned)
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Tapping her pen against the surface of the table in the main lobby, Dorothy reviewed the packet once more. Since that fateful Sunday it had played through her mind without end, causing her to spend hours on making a decision.

She hadn't expected this in the least; joining the Preventers' was something that didn't fit into her plans, meager as they were. With only a few days to have thought it over, she doubted she could make a logical choice. Her thoughts were scrambled with the possibilities this had, though.

If she did join, she would be reuniting with something familiar and partially connected with her past, what she knew, what she had lived. Instead of the skull-cracking boredom of living, alone and not kept busy with something, she could be among the things she had come to love, in a sense. Be with the things that had kept her alive in the past...

Shaking her head, she threw the packet onto the table along with the pen. She had come for answers, not a past time. Propping her chin in her hands, she stared anguishedly at the open spaces on the paper to write in her name, birthdate, area of expertise, etc. and wondered if answers was all she had come for.

She remembered Duo Maxwell, at the Airport. How did he manage it? Hadn't he gone through much the same as she? And yet, he seemed downright glad to be alive, while she had considered suicide several times before - a tedious choice, really.

Lacking the courage, or cowardice, to go through with the idea had stopped her, though.

She played with the sleeve of her sweater to keep herself from breaking something. A child of battle and death, born into a life of war and torn existences, that was what she was. That was how she felt. Now, the war was over and cleaned up after, leaving her behind in uncertainty.

Dorothy glanced down at the rug, unable to keep her expression from growing downcast. Thankfully, her hair became a thick curtain around her face and hid the vivid emotions she couldn't supress.

"Ma'am?" They just couldn't leave her alone, even after she had ordered it. Dorothy waited a moment before raising her head, pushing her hair back and giving whoever had disturbed her a belittling stare.

Someone in a gray suit stood above her, but seated himself opposite her in one of the chairs. He ran a hand through his hair, black, graying at the sides; she guessed him to be middle-aged. He handed her a glass of water, and she raised an eyebrow snidely in question.

"Pardon?"

"Ma'am, I saw you from across the room, and thought this would help." He looked rather embarrassed, so Dorothy nodded and waved a hand as if letting the whole thing pass.

"Thank you, sir, that was very kind. If you don't mind, I am slightly busy at the moment." The man bowed his head, and she turned a keener eye on him. He seemed to be the fatherly type, though, through lack of fatherly presences, she might have been wrong.

"Ma'am, I know this will sound odd, but I have a daughter much like yourself." Really. Dorothy remained skeptical. "She always needs a glass of water to prevent headaches whenever she is confronted with a problem. I thought it might help."

He stood up and smiled, picking up a briefcase to his left.

"Good luck." Dorothy, feeling slightly confused, nodded.

"Thank you." The man left, and Dorothy glanced at the glass. Two icecubes bobbed on the surface, and she reluctantly took it into her hand, letting the cool residue bring her back to what she was supposed to be studying.

Then, a thought struck her.

She didn't necessarily have to turn it in.

Picking the pen up, she wrote her name in the slot at the top of the page, the man having completely slipped from her memory. Following that, her exact birthdate, information about her appearances, weight, height, previous to recent illnesses, etc. The rest of that day was given to those papers.

While filling these out, Dorothy sipped from the glass of water in her hand, feeling all the more satisfactory each time she finished a page.
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Term papers, six of them, each having to be at least four pages long, single-spaced, one more test to go, a packet for one subject, six worksheets for another, and the list was lenghtening. This, including the homework due in the next few days, added to what was waiting for her in Cinq, created the most hectic schedule Relena ever had the unfortunate luck to meet.

Not to mention her cold, after having nearly disappeared for a few days, had returned much stronger than before.

Relena spent most of Monday night awake, pouring over assignments that had to be turned in. That day at school had been one nightmare after another; her bookbag had a ripped seam just from carrying all she needed back home. Lark was still cool towards her, but warmed up once she saw Relena and heard her explanation. But she hated herself for lying to yet another friend; that hate accompanied her all through school, and became acutely felt each time she had to tell it again to another person.

On Tuesday, she discovered she hadn't passed the last test. Trying desperately to finish up another lump of late work, she stayed up till 3 AM and nearly slept through all of her first class the next day.

Wednesday being the last day for her, she left early (her last class being study hall) and went home under the pretense of a serious cold. Instead of resting, as would've been common sense, she latched onto a cup of tea and, headache in tow, hammered down on the rest of the late work. Having told her teachers of her next leave, due to the death of her Grandmother, she had even more work to get to later.

Coughing, pasty, clammy, she boarded the jet back to Cinq. On the way, as was becoming habit, she prepared another speech through her sputterings and hacking. Several times, the stewardess came by to ask if she wanted medication. Relena would only wave her kindly away.

Being shuttled back and forth every week was wrecking Relena's sense of time. The jetlag afterwards was horrible enough to keep her up for two nights, letting her droop with exhaustion during the day when her body was aching for a pillow and sleep and her head screaming with pressure. It was enough to make her easily irritable, though she tried not to be and acted with the most patience she could come up with then.

The ministers didn't rush to her side, but glanced at her with worry. At seeing her safely off the jet, they filed into their office and set about creating a campaign for the untimely and unexpected deaths of the Nigerian committee. The campaign would sponsor their trip around Cinq, which would last ten days, where a few officials and the Vice Foreign Minister would appeal to the crowd's mourning and win their favor for any future political battles. Relena felt as if this was just a cover-up for the true purpose of the campaign, for some, anyway; the real reason they were doing this was to show the pity and sadness they felt for losing such good people.

Still, she couldn't help but innerly moan at the amount of work she was going to have to finish, at school and in Cinq.

Crushing a few pulpy grains left over from lunch in her mouth, she studied the layout of their trip. It was going to cover eleven cities in three weeks; she didn't know if she'd be able to pass the semester grades if this continued. Folding the paper containing the plane schedules and her tickets, she tucked them into her purse and set that off to the side. Then, she set on a wide-brimmed hat, tan-colored, like the rest of her suit.

They had left her alone for the summed-up total of ten minutes. It was relaxing, in a way. Minister Io had found a flaw, and taken Minister Davis with him to correct it. That left her alone with security, those cheerful individuals.

She glanced over her shoulder, out the large windows opening into the front of the mansion. The northern area, especially in the west, had taken a sudden dive into extremely cold weather. Snow had fallen before the jet had landed, welcomed Relena into the settling blurry white. Now, only a few flakes came down, creating a serenity that didn't befit the situation she was in at all.

Her eyes widened. It was a day after she had arrived, yet she hadn't even thought of her unexpected guest from last week's disaster. Immediately raising herself from her chair, she strode through the door and, followed by two armed men, walked down to where she had put Dorothy.

It was a lengthy walk, stretching from her office in the front of the building to the far back. Placing a hand over her mouth to cough, she turned into the corridor leading to Dorothy's room and knocked on the door.

Nothing behind it was heard. Relena leaned in to knock again when someone opened and quietly peeked through to her; she recognized the eyes, that profound, icy blue, but not the expression they held. Afer a silent moment, she nodded her in, but demanded the guards to stay outside and keep to themselves.

Eyebrows raised, Relena cleared her throat at seeing Dorothy's suitcase packed. Glancing back at Dorothy, she saw her in a green army uniform, the uniform she had on when fighting alongside Zechs. A faint smirk trailed across her face, and Relena put a hand up to her forehead.

"May I know what you are planning, Dorothy?" Dorothy clasped her hands behind her back and raised her chin a little higher when she responded.

"I'm leaving." Dorothy walked to the suitcase on her bed, already made, and stroked the worn leather. Her smirk lessened, and contentment passed through her body, visibly loosening the strict way she held herself.

"Where to?" Relena felt, again, astonished at the suddeness Dorothy displayed, though she had known she was somewhat spontaneous when the need presented itself. Brushing a thick coil of blonde hair over her shoulder, Dorothy again turned around to meet her stare, but with knowing.

"I'm joining the Preventers', Miss Relena."

"Excuse me?" Relena's voice became high-pitched, and she rocked back on her heels with the news. "Why now?"

Amused, Dorothy tilted her head and shrugged.

"A decision I made in the past few days during your absence; please, don't worry, you have an annoying habit of doing so."

"How-"

"I was thinking. It came to me, and I slowly found myself agreeing with the terms of the idea. Quite a surprise the chance just fell into my hands, really, but I'm going to bring in my papers right now." A corner of her mouth pulled up. "I didn't want to leave without telling you personally. You have been extremely gracious, and I wanted to thank you."

Relena calmed down and tugged at her sleeve, a smile starting to appear.

"Of course." But apprehension returned to her and she looked around for a chair. Finding one in a corner, she pulled it closer and sat. "Have you really thought this through, though?"

"Yes, I have." Dorothy, against her will and sobriety, let some anxiousness leak into her cool expression. "Miss Relena, I don't understand why I came here, though part of the reason was that I was expriencing numbing boredom.

"I still don't know why I came, though I feel more welcome in this society, disliked as I am. I think that staying here would be of more use to me than retiring to the estate and thinking of the pistol in my father's den as much I do." A mirthless grin took hold while she started to pace the width of the room. "How cliche that would be for me, suicide. I don't want an easy way out for the sharks to feed off my life story.

"The Preventers' organization is something familiar and involves what I know and have learned. I don't see any other chance for me, or any other life." She halted in her pacing, staring at the wall in front of her with her back to Relena. "The only thing left of my will is wrapped into this, and I don't want to have to be reborn to survive."

Turning around, she seemed to have finished, the mirthless grin gone from her mouth, leaving behind an empty, emotionless expression.

Relena shifted in the chair, hands in lap, eyebrows pulled together sharply. She glanced at the suitcase again, then back at Dorothy. The hooded look in her eyes guarded any information to be gained from there; Relena let a small sigh interrupt her breathing pattern.

She had finally opened up, even if it was only a slit in a seam of armor, a trickle of what she held inside. That was mostly what Relena had wanted.

Standing up and pushing the chair back into its' corner, Relena tried to understand the grave logic with which Dorothy had explained her decision. To her, it seemed a little dramatic; she hadn't ever been in charge of soldiers (or the cause of their deaths) like Dorothy, though.

She picked up her suitcase, pulling it from the bed and letting it bump against her side. Without another thought Relena opened the door for her, and the guards outside straigtened immediately. Ignoring both, they walked out into the hall wordlessly and continued on so till they reached the main lobby. Here, Relena stopped. She couldn't leave.

Dorothy halted reluctantly, turned around. A faltering, distraught version of a smile appeared on her face, stretching her mouth. Her confidence was slightly shaken, but understandably so. Without another glance around her surroundings, she marched out into the street; strangely, she didn't feel much different.

Having expecting a sudden lift of the weight she thought she felt, Dorothy found herself to be just the same. A taxi pulled up to her side, and a memory shook her into remembering Duo, opening the door for her. He made it.

So would she.
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Dorothy is more involved than I ever thought she'd be....but I'm having a kick writing this. If something is confusing, do tell me!