Disclaimer: I do not claim to have created the characters, only the situations they find themselves in, in this particular story.
Author's Notes: Thank you for all the sweet reviews and comments. I'm so glad that you like the story the way I'm writing it. I hope you continue to enjoy it.
***
To Dance Beneath the Diamond Sky
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"So, you can't dance? Not at all? Not even one step? How can you say that you've taken any trouble to live when you won't even dance?" -Hermann Hesse
"When you do dance, I wish you, a wave o' the sea, that
you might ever do nothing but that." -Shakespeare (Winter's
Tale)
****
Relena woke up on Saturday morning with her cheek pressed against
something wet. It was a minute until she realized it was her pillow,
soaked with her own tears. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.
The tears didn't seem to be stopping, like the rain that poured
outside her window.
Thunder rattled her gilded mirror as Relena threw the covers off
her bare legs and got up. She walked over to the window and pushed
it open. The cool mist of morning rain dampened the oversized
button-down shirt she had worn to sleep. It had belonged to her
father, discarded by him for having a tiny coffee stain at one
time. Gerrard Dorlian did not have to put up with imperfections
in anything or anyone.
Which explained why he hadn't protested when his only child had
decided to flee to America with her mother after the divorce.
Relena sat on the cushioned bay window and drew her knees up to
her chin. Her nose tickled under the light pressure of her tears.
It seemed like a lifetime since Heero had climbed to her window
to take her out to the Park. She shook her head suddenly. It wouldn't
do her a damn bit of good to remember him like that. It only made
it hurt worse. She would rather remember him in the locker room,
hurtling horrible accusations at her. At least that way she could
almost make herself hate him. And hating him was so much easier
than missing him.
The muffled sound of the grandfather clocking striking the hour
filled her ears. Nine a.m. There was to be an informal rehearsal
at noon, but Relena knew in her heart that neither she nor Heero
were ready to dance the way they were expected to. Even if she
pulled on clothes and headed over to his apartment now, nothing
would be accomplished in the short amount of time. She only really
had one choice.
There was a knock on her door ten minutes later, right as she
hung up on the call she had just finished making. Treize's assistant
had been sympathetic when Relena told her about the stomach bug
she was experiencing and had assured her that Treize would understand
and cancel rehearsal.
"Who is it?" Relena asked.
"Your mother, Relena."
She sighed softly. "Come in."
Helen entered, fully dressed, her hair and makeup flawless. "Good
morning, darling."
Relena picked up an oversized stuffed bear. "Wow, you're
a bit overdressed for breakfast, Mother."
"Actually I thought I'd sit in on your rehearsal today. I've
been fairly dying to see you dance Odette." Her mother's
eyes shone with excitement. It was rare to see her mother excited
about anything that wasn't distilled and served on the rocks.
She spoke with near regret. "I'm sorry, Mother. Rehearsal
has been canceled."
Helen's smile literally dropped off her face. "What?"
"I just called in sick a moment ago."
"And just why would you do something like that?" her
mother asked, her voice like daggers.
"I woke up not feeling too..." Relena stopped. This
was her own mother; why should she lie? "To tell the truth,
Mother, I'm not sick." She sat on her bed and looked down
at the bear in her hands. "I'm having a bit of a...personal
crisis."
Helen's manicured fingers dug into her palms. "What does
that have to do with your dancing?"
New tears slipped down her cheeks. "Oh...Mother....I can't
dance with him today. He hates me! And I don't know why!"
"Who hates you, Relena?" Her mother's eye twitched.
"Heero," she whispered. "Who else?"
Helen's mind barely registered the name. "Relena Marie Dorlian..."
"It's not necessary to use my full name, Mother." Relena
sniffed. "It's not like I'm really hurting here or anything."
"Relena," Helen began again, her jaw painfully tight.
"Men come and go. They never last long. Your dancing....your
talent....that's all that matters."
Relena shook her head. "No, it's not. Loving Heero...it meant
more to me than anything. Even dancing."
"I don't see how you can say that, Relena! After all the
sacrifices I've made for you! Why the hell do you think I stayed
with your father for all of those dreadful years, if not to give
you the advantage of beginning your career in Paris and the money
give you everything else?!"
"I wouldn't know, Mother." Relena lifted her eyes to
meet her mother's glare. "I suppose I always made the crazy
assumption that you loved him."
Helen wanted to laugh, but managed to keep a straight face. "Relena,
don't you let some teenaged boy in tights distract you from everything
you've tried so hard for! You can't...not after everything I've
had to do...you just can't!!"
"I'm sorry, Mother!" she cried, shooting to her feet.
"I didn't realize this was all about you!"
"Don't be a brat." Helen's heavily-kohled eyes narrowed.
"And don't...*don't* hurt your career over this Heero."
There was a long pause. "Have you slept with him?"
"Mother!"
"Have you?"
Relena held up her hands. "I am not having this conversation
with you."
Just in time to save her from Helen's returned wrath, Lucrezia
peeked her head into the room. "Relena, I just got a page
from Treize saying rehearsal has been canceled. Would you like
to come shopping with me?"
"I'd love to," she replied, wiping her eyes. "Let
me just take a shower and get dressed."
Lucrezia watched her fiancee's mother carefully as Relena grabbed
her robe and disappeared into her bathroom. "Would you like
to come, too, Mother Helen? You're dressed for 5th Avenue."
Helen brushed past the younger woman in a cloud of Chanel perfume.
"I really have other things to do."
"That's really okay," Lucrezia called after her.
The door to her suite slammed behind her as Helen stormed into
it. She paced back and forth for several minutes, her spiked heels
digging into the expensive carpet. When she thought her nails
were going to pierce the soft flesh of her palms, the tiny mobile
phone on her dresser began to ring.
"What?" she snapped after flipping it open. A moment
passed and her face relaxed. "Why, hello there!" Helen
laughed. "Oh, you're terrible! Yes, you are. Terrible! What's
that?" She listened for a moment. "You are? Well, that's
fabulous, darling! Of course! I'll come in the limo to fetch you.
Yes...you too. Bye-bye!"
Helen closed up her phone with a satisfying snap. Smiling, she
tucked it into her purse and started out the door.
****
After he woke at six a.m., took a jog around his block despite
the rain, worked out with his weights, and showered, Heero started
breakfast for himself. His father was still passed out from whatever
he had drunk the night before. Actually, he hadn't even bothered
to check on him, although the loud snoring from his bedroom at
least told him the old man wasn't dead.
He was just adding chocolate chips to his pancake batter when
the phone rang. Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he reached for
the cordless. When he hung up a minute later, he cursed loudly.
Treize had canceled rehearsal. A mere six days before the curtain
rose.
Worse than that, he wouldn't get to see Relena until school on
Monday.
That thought made him empty the fledgling batter into the sink.
He turned the water on to watch it swirl down the drain.
"Damn her, damn her, damn her!"
Heero sighed. He didn't really want to damn her. The whole situation,
on the other hand, could go straight to hell. He didn't need the
pressure anymore. The guilt. The regret. Plainly put, he didn't
need to need her.
Leaving the few dirty dishes he had accumulated, Heero got dressed
the rest of the way. The weather outside had been cool for spring;
he pulled on a worn, brown leather jacket over his cargo pants
and white T-shirt. He grabbed his keys and his wallet, already
supplied with his father's American Express card.
If he couldn't spend the day dancing, he could at least spend
some of Ethan's money on 5th Avenue.
****
Duo slept through the phone call that canceled rehearsal. His
mother hadn't had the heart to wake him up to take it himself.
Rather, she let her son sleep in, figuring he could use the rest.
And indeed, when he woke up at half past noon, he felt better
than he had in weeks. Hearing rehearsal had been called off was
another weight off his shoulders, but presented a new problem.
What to do with an entire, empty Saturday.
To pass some of the time, he took a long shower, washed and conditioned
his hair. He braided it still wet and got dressed in time to enjoy
a late lunch with his mother. She was waiting to hear from a gallery
about her latest series of paintings; nervousness made her cook
too much food, which didn't bother Duo in the least.
As he was helping her clean up, Sara broached the subject that
had been nagging him since he had woken up. "What are you
going to do now?"
"I don't know." Shrugging, Duo wiped a clean bowl. "Is
there anything you need help with around here?"
Sara gave her son a long look. "Duo, get out of this apartment
and go see your girlfriend."
He sighed dramatically. "Why, Mom? She doesn't want to see
me."
"I highly doubt that," she replied, glancing at her
watch. "It's almost three."
"And?"
Sara gestured to him to follow her. Shaking his head, Duo did
as she asked. Once they had reached the master bedroom, Sara turned
around. "Close your eyes."
"Mom, what are you doing?" Duo asked, squeezing his
eyes closed.
"Just...hold on a minute." His mother's voice was muffled
for a moment, then became clearer. "Okay. Open them."
When he did so, she was standing in front of her walk-in closet,
holding a garment bag up with much glee. "What's that?"
Duo asked.
She unzipped the bag to reveal a black tuxedo. "No one should
miss their senior prom."
Duo had to smile. "Mom...this is really....I mean, I appreciate
it a lot. I do. It's just that...I know Hilde. She won't agree
to come with me."
"You don't know until you ask," Sara insisted. "Any
girl who could resist my son in a tuxedo offering to sweep her
off to a dance doesn't deserve him."
Because he loved his mother and couldn't bear to let her down,
Duo found himself in a cab an hour later, clad in the very classy
tuxedo his mother had ordered for him, heading for St. John's
Hospital. A cold plastic container sat on his lap; he could just
see a wrist corsage of white roses through the condensation on
the lid.
Sara had prepared and planned this. Next to him on the seat was
another garment bag containing a dress in Hilde's size. A duffel
bag at his feet held one shoe, a make-up kit and a curling iron.
He felt kind of silly carrying it all with him up to Hilde's floor,
but that changed as he got closer to her room. Getting swept up
in his mother's prom fantasy, Duo approached the nurses' station.
"Duo!" one of the nurses greeted him. "Where have
you been hiding yourself?" She blushed slightly. "You
look really good."
He instinctively winked. "I've been around. Tonight's my
school's prom, so I'm here to get Hilde ready. Can I just go on
in?"
The nurse hesitated. "Duo...don't you know?"
"Um...know what?" Panic gripped his chest. "Is
Hilde all right?!"
"She's fine. She's just....been moved."
"Moved?"
"To another hospital in Brooklyn. She didn't tell you?"
Duo's good mood vanished. He looked down at his shiny black shoes,
almost afraid to keep his head up in case the sudden wave of hurt
leaked out through his eyes. "No. She didn't."
"I can tell you what hospital she went to. I have her transfer
papers here somewhere." The nurse began searching through
a stack of folders next to her computer.
"That's okay. Don't worry about it." Duo looked up,
managing the fakest of all smiles. "Would you like a corsage?"
He held out the plastic container and waited until she accepted
it with much regret. "Thanks for your help."
He exited the hospital through the ambulance bay, stopping next
to the wide dumpsters to get rid of the garment and duffel bags.
Rather than hail a cab, he began the long walk to Chelsea in his
tuxedo. His hands were free; his heart, heavy.
****
"Starbucks!" Lucrezia pointed her arm, ladden with bags
from Saks, Macy's, Bloomingdale's and a trendy new maternity boutique
called Hot Mama towards the coffee shop at the corner. "I
need caffeine."
Relena laughed and shook her head. "You can't. Caffeine is
very bad for the baby."
"Oh, come on!" The older woman raised her voice to be
heard over the sounds of the crowded New York street. "For
hundreds of years, women have drunk wine, worked in the fields,
smoked cigarettes, all while they were pregnant and had perfectly
normal babies. Do you really think one short latte two months
along is going to be a problem?" She waited for Relena's
reply. When it didn't come, Lucrezia turned around to see the
girl. "Relena?"
She was staring at something on the other side of the street,
not even squinting in the glare of the setting sun. Lucrezia followed
her eyes and sighed when she saw Heero Yuy through the momentary
gaps between cars and vans that zipped by. And it very obvious
that he had spotted them as well.
Relena didn't blink for a long moment, not wanting to break the
delicious stare. Despite the distance and traffic between them,
not to mention the current state of their relationships, his eyes
still managed to keep her captive.
His expression was one of a man, lost in the world. Like a homeless
person in an alley, only he was standing on 5th Avenue, holding
bags from Structure and Old Navy. Relena wanted to smile; she
hadn't pegged him for a fashion geek. Somehow he had always just
looked like Heero. Handsome, sexy, the dangerous boy next door.
Lucrezia tugged on her arm. "Relena, let's go." She
wasn't sure what had happened between the young couple, but she
had been witness to their dancing of late. Whatever had gone wrong
with them was very bad. "Millardo will be worried. Taxi!!"
Relena nodded. "All right." She let Lucrezia pull her
towards the yellow cab she had just managed to flag down. Before
she ducked into the back seat, she took one last look at Heero.
He was still watching them, but as soon as he noticed she was
looking again, he lowered his head and continued down the street.
During the ride back to Park Avenue, Lucrezia kept up a steady
stream of chatter, talking about everything from the workshop
to the adorable pair of pink booties she hadn't been able to resist
buying at Macy's baby department. She was already sure the baby
was a girl; it seemed to her as natural as saying the child was
hers at all.
Although she smiled and nodded through it all, Relena's mind was
still back on 5th Avenue. The image of Heero had been burned into
her brain and nothing was going to get rid of it. The way he had
looked at her...it only solidified her resolve to talk to him
at school on Monday. With enough time, she could forgive him for
the things he had said to her. Perhaps she could even clear up
whatever misunderstanding had prompted him to say them.
The thought brought a new smile to her face. By the time she and
Lucrezia stepped off the elevator and onto the penthouse floor,
she was actively listening to the older woman's happy conversation,
even joining in with a few observations.
"There you two are." Millardo entered the foyer upon
hearing the front door open. "I was about to send out a search
party for my credit cards."
Lucrezia deposited all of their packages onto the floor and went
to her fiancee, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Good
to know you missed me."
After a long kiss, during which Relena made a great show of rifling
through the Bloomingdale's bag for the tie she had picked out
for her brother, Lucrezia pulled back and glanced at the closed
parlor doors. "Who's in there?"
"Oh, my mother has a guest." Millardo grimaced. "She
just forgot to mention I'd be hosting this guest for a week."
"Sounds like your mother," Lucrezia muttered. She rolled
her eyes at Relena; the girl smothered a knowing giggle. "Should
we be sociable?"
Relena lifted her shoulders. "Couldn't hurt."
Millardo lightly slapped Lucrezia's bottom through her black pants.
"You two go on. I've had enough of Mother's friend already."
His little sister was already sliding open the heavy panel doors,
preparing to greet whichever of the Ladies Who Lunch that her
mother had brought home. When the two people in the parlor stood
up as she entered and Relena got her first look at the house guest,
the blood in her body immediately ceased to flow.
"Ah, Relena! There you are." Helen held out her hands
towards her daughter. "Look who's come to town just to see
you dance, darling!"
The tall man standing beside Helen smiled with smooth serenity.
"Il est bon de vous revior," he murmured, bowing his
head slightly. Jean-Paul Chevalier lifted his eyes again to meet
Relena's frozen stare with a steady, intent gaze. "I have
missed my favorite pupil."
****
To Be Continued