Dislcaimer: To own GW is a dream, and only a dream.......
(This happens three days after the Sunday when Relena returned)
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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!