Disclaimer: Always the same.
Author's Notes: So many more thanks;) I really appreciate every
comment and review. I do. I hope I can keep on giving you fun
things to read;)
****
To Dance Beneath the Diamond Sky
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
Heero stared at her for a long time after her declaration. Her
eyes were wet with unshed tears; her full, rosy bottom lip quivered
ever so slightly. It suddenly occurred to him that he missed the
real Relena. The laughter she gave Duo, the healthy glow in her
cheeks when they had gone swing dancing, the soft lilt of the
European accent that had echoed in her voice over the phone. The
girl in front of him was too sad....something had to be done to
bring back the Relena he was all too quickly falling for.
He reached out and touched her chin to steady it. "Do you
really think you're not good enough to play Odette."
"Yes." But with the weight of his Prussian blue stare
boring down onto her, the affirmation was less than convincing.
"Why do you think that?"
Relena's tongue darted out to wet her lips. Heero blinked, momentarily
shaken by the sight. "Well..." she started. "You've
seen me in class. I trip...I stumble...I never get enough height
on my jumps...my turnout is inconsistent." Her eyes lowered.
"You know...that I can't do it, Heero."
"I know that you think you can't," he corrected her.
"But I don't think I've ever seen you really dance. I've
seen you get nervous and make mistakes." Heero let his fingers
fall from her chin. "I'd like to see you dance Odette...really
dance her. With me. What do you say?"
She looked up into eyes, but saw no mocking or condescension in
their depths. All she saw looking back down at her was honesty
with a tinge of a challenge. Eyes that she could trust. Relena's
gaze darted away. They were also eyes that had seen Dorothy Catalonia
on a beach...
"All right," Relena finally said. "I will dance
Odette." She swallowed. "But not for you. For me."
Heero nodded. "That's how it should always be."
Relena stepped away from him. "After all, you're the one
with something to lose. Everyone already expects me to look ridiculous
on stage." She paused to hold back her next words, but they
pushed their way out of her mouth. "This is your last chance
to lobby for someone else. I'm sure Dorothy would make a good
swan princess."
Heero frowned. "Why Dorothy?"
"I don't know..." She idly pressed the satin toe of
her pointe shoe into the tiled floor. "I just got the impression
that you two had...um...history."
He didn't say anything for a moment. "It doesn't have any
bearing on her ability to dance."
Relena heart thudded in her chest. That should have been his moment
of clarification, when he proved Dorothy's words wrong and declared
his innocence. Her mood took another nose-dive. So...the other
girl hadn't been lying. "I suppose it doesn't."
Right then, the door to their studio opened and Treize stuck his
head out, searching. When he spotted his two principal dancers,
he frowned. "Mr. Yuy....Miss Dorlian," he called out.
"Take your time. Really...forty people aren't waiting for
you at all."
Heero indicated for Relena to walk ahead of him. She did so with
her back straight, her chin level, presenting a picture of calm
determination. Inside, she was a wreck.
Her perfect posture fooled everyone but Heero. As Treize and Lucrezia
started the tedious process of teaching Relena everything it had
taken Hilde nearly a month to learn, he watched her carefully.
His history with Dorothy...what had brought that up? If you could
even call a few drunken kisses after a fight with his father at
their house in the Hamptons a history. It hadn't taken him long
to sober up enough to stop things; Dorothy's hand on his thigh
had been like a cold shower and a dozen cups of coffee. They hadn't
really spoken since.
At least, to each other. When he caught the distrust in Relena's
eyes and the tenseness in her slender body when he lifted her,
Heero had to wonder just how much talking Dorothy had been doing
with everyone else.
****
"Duo?"
He lifted his head from its sleeping position on Hilde's arm and
blinked sleepily at the woman standing on the other side of the
hospital bed. "Mrs. Schbeiker?"
Katja rubbed her forearm and tugged on the sleeve of her waitress
uniform. "How is she doing?" she asked nervously.
"She's...um..." Duo searched his girlfriend's sleeping
face. How could he tell the woman that her daughter was hanging
over the very sharp edge of depression. "She's still adjusting
to the news."
"Oh my baby..." Katja sat on the edge of the bed and
stroked Hilde's cheek. "My poor baby."
"She really could've used you today," Duo continued,
with more reprimand in his voice than probably should have been.
Hilde's mother looked down at her stained, pink dress. "I
would have been here the whole time if I could have been. But
at least...she had you." She took her daughter's hand. "She's
very lucky in that respect."
Duo scowled. "Everyone keeps saying that. But I'm not some
knight on a white horse, you know. Hilde's going to be okay and
she's going to be okay because she's really strong. Not because
she has me to lean against."
Katja let the boy get the thoughts off his chest before she nodded.
"Of course." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Go
home, Duo. I'm sure your parents miss you. I can stay with her
for the rest of the night."
He hesitated. It was the first time he had ever seen Hilde's mother
act like a real mother. "They're going to release her in
the morning..."
"I think I can manage to get her home."
"But, she'll be on crutches and painkillers and..."
"Duo." The older woman's voice was firm. "I need
to do this for Hilde. You've done more than enough already."
Duo looked down at his sneakers. "Not really. But okay."
He stood up and kissed Hilde's forehead. "Tell her I'll be
over to see her tomorrow after ballet class. Wait, no...don't
mention ballet class. Just tell her I'll be there after I...um...get
my hair cut. No....after I...."
"I've got it," Katja smiled. "Goodbye, Duo."
He started for the door and turned back to see Katja adjusting
her body next to Hilde's on the bed. She tucked her arm under
her daughter's body and rested her chin on her dark curls. Duo
smiled and left the tiny hospital room.
****
Relena debated calling Quatre that night and pouring out every
woe to her old friend, but somehow, she couldn't bring herself
to dial the international number. Instead, she seated herself
at her desk, withdrew the pink stationary her mother had insisted
she have, although the entire world relied on the speed of email,
and began to write him a letter. It took a long time; her French
was better when she spoke than when she wrote.
"'I don't understand why I was chosen'," she wrote to
him in her flowered script. "'Sometimes I think it would
be better for everyone if I just declined the role. But I suppose
it's too late for that now. I am Odette. And Hilde, poor Hilde
who should have the role and is so unhappy...I feel like I've
wronged her somehow. Have I, Quatre?'" Relena lowered her
pen for a moment before signing her name with a flourish.
As an afterthought, she took up the pen again and added a postscript.
"'I miss you so much. You're the only man in my life who
doesn't confuse me. Call me when you get this letter. Or better
yet, fly to see me...but not on the weekend of the workshop. Trust
me...you'll have better things to do.'"
She folded up the letter, placed it in a matching envelope that
bore the address of Quatre's father's chateau just outside of
Paris and set it aside to be mailed in the morning. After a quick
trip to her private bathroom to scrub her face and brush her teeth,
Relena wandered back to her bed and sat down to set her alarm
for six AM.
The knock on her bedroom window nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.
She dropped the sheets in her hand and spun around to face the
lace curtains. There was a shadowed figure outside; for the first
time, she cursed the fire escape. Wasn't there a more practical
way to get out of the building in an emergency, instead of one
that left her open to the city's predators?
"Who's there?" Relena called out, unable to hide the
wobble of fear in her voice.
The reply was muffled through the glass and lace. "Don't
be afraid, Relena. It's me." There was a pause. "Heero."
Her heart dropped another inch, but this time, it wasn't from
fright. "Heero?" She approached the window with much
caution and drew the curtains aside. Heero, indeed, was the person
crouched on the wrought iron platform. She pushed open the window
panes, forcing him back on his heels. "What the hell are
you doing here?"
She had never cursed in his presence before. Heero blinked. "Um...I
wanted to see you."
The simple words succeeded in stopping her heart for a moment.
"You...you wanted to see me? This late at night?" Relena
swallowed. "You could have called...."
"I could have." Heero looked up at the night sky. "It's
not a full moon anymore, but it's still nice. Don't you want to
see it?"
She sighed, a mixture of exasperation and longing. "I couldn't
just see it from the window?"
He shook his head and held out his hand. "Come on."
"I'm in my pajamas..." Relena pulled at the strap of
her tank top.
"I'll give you a minute to get dressed."
She propped her hands up on her hips. "What's gotten into
you?"
Heero looked down at the iron floor of the fire escape. "Today
in class...you looked so...lost. I know what it's like to be lost."
"You do?" Her voice was a whisper.
He nodded and glanced back up at her. "So, will you come
out? To the park?"
Relena hesitated for another moment before finally giving in.
"Hold on." She left him at the window and disappeared
into her walk in closet, re-emerging a moment later dressed in
jeans, a zippered navy sweatshirt and sneakers. After grabbing
her keys, she climbed out the window and joined Heero on the fire
escape. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she told him
out loud. What she didn't express to him was the vague sense of
excitement that had suddenly overcome. Sneaking out to Central
Park with a gorgeous guy in the middle of the night....
The thrill threatened to block out all her common sense. Relena
had to steer herself back to what she knew about Heero. What she
had learned about him that very day.
Heero offered her his hand again and helped her down the fifteen
flights of escape stairs. They received more than one strange
look from the people in the building who's windows were open;
Relena prayed that none of them recognized her and called up to
her brother.
When they reached the street, a taxi was waiting for them; it
was quite a ways to Central Park. In the cab, Relena had a thought.
"Heero...um...how did you know which window was mine?"
"Process of elimination," he replied. "I knew your
building and floor from the student directory. I took a gamble
that yours would be the window with lace curtains."
She had to smile. "It could have been my brother's room.
He is a ballet dancer. Or was, anyways."
"I can't see Millardo with lace." Heero shrugged. "I
made the right guess, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did."
They were quiet the rest of the way to the park. Heero paid the
taxi driver and the cab sped off into the night. Relena looked
at the impenetrable green wall of Central Park with a fair amount
of apprehension. "Is this safe?" she asked him.
"As safe as anything is in the city." Heero reached
for her hand and was a bit surprised when she didn't automatically
take it. "I want to show you my favorite spot."
Relena followed close by him as he led her down a small path towards
the center of the park. After few minutes of silence, Heero cleared
his throat. "Do you trust me?"
She blinked. "Why? What are you about to do?"
"Nothing," he replied. "I meant, overall. Do you
trust me?"
"I..." Relena kicked a pebble with the toe of her sneaker.
"I don't know you very well..."
"You don't trust me, then." His voice was more than
a little disappointed.
"It's not you," she emphasized. "I've never been
very good at pas de deux class. Especially since..." Her
mouth abruptly closed. "I'll try to do better....with the
lifts and stuff."
Heero frowned. "What were you going to say before you stopped?"
Relena shook her head, her dark blond ponytail whipped against
her cheeks as she quickly changed the subject. "So, where
is this favorite spot?"
"Just up ahead." He let the topic drop; evidently she
didn't wish to talk about it. "I think the boys are going
to be there tonight."
"The boys?"
Heero glanced over at her. "You'll see."
They came out of the forest of trees and jogging paths into a
wide open space that surrounded a beautifully carved stone fountain
and were greeted by the haunting notes of a saxophone. On the
other side, a brass quartet was set up, playing to the late night
strollers and power-walkers.
"The boys," Heero informed her. "Ed, Bill, Samson
and Dewey. They're out here almost every night. I discovered them
when I was thirteen."
"What were you doing out in the park this late at night when
you were thirteen?" she asked, a twinkle in her blue eyes.
Heero cleared his throat. "I just...had to get out of the
house one night." He reached for her hand again. "I'll
introduce you when their set is..." He trailed off when,
again, she refused to take his hand. "Relena...have I done
something wrong?" The hand he had offered her reached up
to scratch the back of his head. "I'm not very good at this
sort of thing, I know. But I didn't think I was scaring you. Am
I scaring you?"
Relena looked up at the sky; the waning moon stared down at them.
"I'm just not sure why...why you asked *me* out here...."
She took a breath. "...when Dorothy Catalonia is so....accommodating."
"I had a feeling she had something to do with this."
Heero sighed and looked beyond the fountain to where his quartet
was beginning B.B. King's, "Please Love Me". "I'm
not sure what she told you, but whatever it was..."
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Heero," she
interrupted him. "Your sexual history is so entirely *not*
my business."
Heero sighed. "I didn't have sex with Dorothy."
Relief washed over her at the simple statement. "Really?"
she finally said. "But she told me..."
"She told you what she's probably told everyone." He
gritted his teeth. "I can't decide if it would be better
to be thought of as gay or having had sex with that...."
After a pause, he continued. "It was a few minutes of bad
judgement from too much alcohol. That's all."
"Oh." Relena bit her lip. "I'm sorry I believed
her, Heero."
He lifted his shoulder, dismissing the incident. A moment passed.
The night around them was cool; a sweet breeze pushed the gently
wailing strains of the brass band over to them. Relena closed
her eyes and breathed deeply. Spring was upon them and the park
smelled like fresh flowers and clean earth.
Heero watched her enjoy the moment. Her dark, thick lashes rested
against her smooth cheeks; her lips parted slightly, moist and
pink. He swallowed. She was too lovely to be real. He had the
sudden fear that if he pinched himself, he would wake up in his
bed with his father pounding on the door, calling him a....
Relena reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his and
unknowingly driving away his demons for the time being. He spoke
before he thought, a habit he had formed in the weeks he had known
her. "Dance with me?"
"Yes," she replied softly.
He led her closer to the band and received greeting smiles and
approving winks from the four men. Hoping the darkness would hide
his pink-tinged cheeks, Heero put his hand around Relena's small
waist. Just like at the swing club, she placed her own hand on
his muscled shoulder. Their free hands remained clasped together
as they began to dance.
They moved perfectly with each other and with the music. Relena
gave herself up to the magic of her surroundings; there were no
awkward fumbles or missed steps. She and Heero danced as one and
it was so perfect that other couples doing the same stopped to
watch. Taking the initiative, Relena rested her cheek on his collarbone.
Heero inhaled the scent of roses from her hair; the delicate,
fragrant flowers suited her. His hand moved up to press against
her lower back, drawing her even closer to his body. He had the
overwhelming urge in that moment to feel those pink lips against
his own. To do so, he pulled back slightly and moved his arm around
her to lift up her chin.
She met him with a dreamy smile. When he closed his eyes and lowered
his lips to hers, her only hesitation was internal. Relena responded
to his kiss with equal passion, ignoring her brain's cry to slow
down. She would not let Jean-Paul ruin her first real kiss with
the memory of his own forced ones. Heero's lips were gentle and
although eager, they were not demanding.
The kiss didn't end until the final notes of the song faded into
the breeze. Heero drew back, completely intoxicated by the taste
of her lips and more content than he could ever remember being.
Relena opened her eyes. "Heero," she whispered. "I
don't feel lost anymore."
He smiled. "Neither do I."
****
To Be Continued