She melded with the shadows just as he had taught her, a trickle of cold sweat sliding down her back as she halted in her progress.  Peeking around the corner, she took in two shady forms lounging in the dark, empty hall, their laughter mocking her, encouraging her.  She grinned.  only two.  They were unguarded and relaxed.  Easy pickings.

Unconsciously, she found herself mentally humming the theme to 'Mission:  Impossible', the grin still planted on her face, eyes alight with mischief as she knelt on the cold metal floor to peruse the contents of the sack she carried on one shoulder.  Being equipped for this sorta thing was important, she mused.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she cursed the humid heat of the rain forest and the maintenance personell for not fixing the air conditioning system.  It was friggin' hot, and here she was thinking about setting bombs.  What was up with that kinda cracked-out wierdness?

Opening the sack, she allowed the grin to drop as she handled the rather old fashioned time bomb with care as she set it on the ground only to pull out three guns and two knives.  The bomb was replaced inside the sack for later use.  The guns and knives were hidden in various locations along her body.  It never hurt to be cautious.

Straightening, she peeked around the corner once more, edging along the wall while concentrating on being silent.  She had been practicing for this, she reminded herself, and she would let Jag down if she failed.  Planting this bomb was the key to her ultimate goal.

Raising her foot to take another step, the girl was again halted in her progress by the cold press of the barrel of a gun against her neck.  Warning bells went off inside her head.  Great, just great.  A little late weren't ya?  Where were you before the guy took out the gun?  So much for that nifty sixth sense thingy.

Panic rose within her as the gunman jabbed the gun into her flesh, bruising the delicate skin there.  A warning.  Damn it.  He wasn't gonna let her get off easy.  Life was just never simple for her. 

Closing her eyes as her partner had told her time and again, she breathed deeply while allowing herself to flow into a trance.  His words came back to her . . . the last words of wisdom falling from his lips before she had set out on this little excursion,

*Never allow the enemy to know you fear them.  Fight back at all costs.*

Fight . . .

And damned if she wouldn't.  Her hand inched forward just a bit, reaching for the gun that lay inside the false pocket, resting against her thigh inside a leather holster.  It was her second line of defense to be sure, but if she used her first, she'd get killed quicker than you can say Kentucky Fried Chicken . . . Oh now there was something she missed . . .

Her captor's hand zipped out to catch her wrist in a crushing grip, the delicate bones of her arm, nearly turned to dust by that hold.  She mentally went through possible scenarios of what kind of fight she could put up, and came up with only one solution.  Catch him off guard with good ol' fashioned charm.

"Hey!  Could you let up a bit?  I don't think you broke enough bones."

Silence.

"Listen, if it's too much to ask, I'd like to see the face of my killer before I die."

No reacton.

She was getting a little nervous.  Time for the first line of defense since she couldn't get to the second.  Damn it.  She was gonna get shot, she just knew it, but not if she planned it just right.

Thoughts flying wildly in her head, she tried to sense his position . . . directly behind . . no a little to her right.  Perfect.

Her right wrist still very much caught in his hand, she decided her wrist would be a small price to pay for the completion of this mission.  With a speed she hadn't thought she possessed, she spun around to face him, her elbow poised to slam into his stomach . . . At least, her elbow WOULD have slammed into his stomach if he hadn't ducked and kicked her legs out from under her.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!"

*CRASH*

The lights flashed on.  The simulation had ended.  She had failed.  Miserably.  Emphasis on 'miserably'.

"Ow!  Damn it!  What's the big idea ya punk!?"  She winced, trying to sit up.  Opening her eyes, she was confronted with oversized combat boots stuffed with baggy army green cargo pants which tapered over thin hips.  Her eyes traveled upward and over the black tank top and crossed arms of one grim looking Cody Jag King.  His cold blue eyes glared down at her.

"Don't look at me like that.  This was just my first try and no one's ever gotten passed you!"  She glared back at him, a battle of wills erupting between them as hazel met Prussian blue.  He broke the impromptu staring contest to reach behind him.

"You dropped this."  His voice was robotic, lacking personality and warmth, as he dropped the sack, bomb tucked safely in the terry cloth, onto her stomach.

"OOF!  You friggin' bastard!  As if I don't have enough bruises --"

She was surprised by the hand thrust at her.  He was going to help her up?  This was new and unexpected.  Warily, she put her hand in his, wordlessly giving him permission to pull her up which he did with such force that she nearly flew into the wall behind him.  When she was situated, she glared at him, knowing he had done it on purpose.  He only grinned evilly for a moment before becoming serious once more.

"Don't fail again."

"Gee, no 'You did a good job on the first try Mai', no 'Oh, you'll do better next time.  I have faith in ya Mai.'  NO no no!  All I get is a crummy ass 'Don't fail again'!  What kinda sick pep talk is THAT?"

She was irate.  She was pissed.  She was hurting all over and not in a very good mood.

He just stared at her and gave her a very simple answer that actually made a lot of sense to her since she HAD been living with the guy for the past two months.

"Mine."  That said, he turned and left her to think about things.

For her part, Mai watched her partner and superior walk away, a thoughtful expression settling on her face.

Since when was he allowed to carry a gun outside of the simulation?

Distraction, in all of its forms, was never a good thing.  Distractions from distractions were even worse, and Heero was honest enough with himself to admit that training Mai was a self-imposed distraction to keep thoughts of Relena at bay.

Of course, despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep his worry for her sealed away, especially when everything reminded him of her.  He supposed it was his fault, afterall, he had stolen that picture from Duo and made sure it was the first and last thing he saw in the course of the day, and he had slept with her, burning her scent and the feel of her skin into his memory.  His mind often pointed out how the fragrance of wildflowers on the wind or the feel of smooth leaves brushing against his arms and face were phantom representations of what he had given up.

And to think he was on his way to break his last tie to her and the other Gundam pilots.

His heart felt like it was going to explode, the pain there was so intense, but he knew that it was for the best.  He wondered if the guys had made good on their promises to him.  He wondered if they were keeping her safe.  He wondered if she was happy . . . alive.

It was always there, the fear pushed to the very back of his mind that she wasn't going to make it, that he wasn't going to destroy this force in time, that somehow, in some way, one of them was going to screw up and she was going to pay.  He couldn't work under that kind of emotional stress.

He had never dealt with emotional stress before he had met her.  Period.

With sure, impossibly silent steps, he traveled the complex web of metal tunnels that constituted the underground base, his mind firmly set on his goal.  Distraction at this time was unacceptable.  The mask of the Perfect Soldier was once again in place and would stay there here after until the end.

The disk pressed against his leg as he walked, the slight pressure a comfort to his tortured soul.  This would be his last transmission.  He had been here too long already.  It was time to end this.  It was time to assure himself that she would have the peace she deserved.  It was time to make her dreams and ideals reality since they had obviously failed in previous attempts.

He felt a small smile blossom on his lips, his mind stubbornly throwing images of her at him until he could do nothing but surrender himself to memories made and fantasies half formed,  fantasies that would never be reality, especially after what he was about to do.

In his mind's eye he saw her turn around, her eyes shining with suppressed laughter as their children tackled her to the sandy ground, the incoming surf of the beach of their first meeting  soaking the three bodies as he watched them from some unknown point of origin.

Suddenly, he was no longer on the beach . . . yet the sand remained.  He could feel the sun's heat beating his bare shoulders and neck.  The sensation of individual sand grains pommeling his skin alerted him to an incoming sandstorm while a shadow lurked on the edge of his vision.

He could see her clearly, her bare feet propelling her over the desert sands as her white sundress billowed in the sandstorm winds, bare skin red with sunburn and sand irritation.  Her extended belly seemed to slow her down a bit, and then she stopped, a half dead rose plant before her.  She bent to touch it, the wind stopped, and she jerked back.  Why?  He had no idea, her body was hiding whatever had surprised her.

It was a vision, not a fantasy he realized as a sense of urgency filled his being.

She was there now, there in the forest with him, her blood dripping from his hands as he told her to run and not look back.  She was crying, her beautiful face filled with pain and desperation, but Trowa took her arm and promised to protect her once more.  They ran, Wufei bringing up the rear while Duo stayed behind with him.

A gunshot rang out behind him, and he watched as Relena faltered only to be caught by Wufei who somehow managed to hoist her in his arms, carrying her to safety as Quatre exited the thick vegetation to cover their backs.

He couldn't help but scream Relena's name when he realized what had happened.  She had been shot in the back. 

The vision stopped there, leaving Heero in a cold sweat as he leaned on the wall for support, a reminder of solidity.  He had never experienced something like that before, and he would be a liar if he were to say he understood it.  All he knew with certainty was the disk in his pocket.

Recovering his lost breath, he wiped the sweat from his brow, pushing all thoughts of the unusual vision and its implications to the back of his mind for later study.

The ache in his heart flared up once more as he thought about breaking all ties with them.  His family.  They were his family, and he would never see them again.  He had thought he had taken care of all the last words, thought he would be satisfied with the farewells all said, but he wasn't.  He couldn't have felt worse.  He wanted to be with them, wanted to be with her.  One night hadn't been enough.

Forever wouldn't be enough.

The sound of voices directly ahead of him jolted him out of his inner musings, the Perfect Soldier coming to the fore as he allowed his body to be swallowed by the shadows.  He was nearing his destination.

Reaching for the gun he had hidden at the small of his back, he inched his way towards the closed doors of the communications room.  With a stealth that came naturally to him, he deactivated the lock and killed the three people posted there in less than five minutes, but he didn't enter.  Not yet.

Glancing upwards, he found two cameras trained on him, but they were currently down.  Obviously the virus he had programmed into the security system had worked.  He couldn't help the almost evil smirk that rose to his lips.

Heero entered the small, cramped space, making sure to lock the elevator-like doors behind him.  It just wouldn't do to be discovered just yet.

He slid into the nearest chair, inserting the disk into the correct slot.  Punching in the correct  codes, he accessed Quatre's private e-mail account which was only to be utilized in the most worst case emergency scenarios.  Heero supposed those qualifications applied in this instance.

The information flowed smoothly from one computing system to the other, and Heero gave an inward sigh of relief when the transfer ended.  It was done.  Mission completed.  For now.

He never acknowledged the solitary tear that fell down his cheek.

Dorothy giggled as she lounged in her husband's arms, basking in the familiar warmth of his body as he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.  Romantic trysts were rare these days, especially with a 2 year old son who frequently wanted to sleep with his parents, and both Dorothy and Quatre were enjoying it while it lasted.

Their lips met, the kiss speaking of pent up passion and a love that outshone the stars with its eternal flame while Quatre tightened his hold on the woman in his arms.  For her part, Dorothy pulled herself even closer to her lover, releasing his lips in favor of trailing tiny, teasing kisses along his taut neck, inflaming him even more.

Entering the bedroom, Quatre lay his wife on the bed gently, taking in her clothed form, imagining the curves he knew lay beneath the thin material of her night gown.  It had been so long . . . a small eternity to be sure since they had been able to take pleasure in each other uninterrupted.

With a gentle hand, he ran his hands through her hair as she pulled him to her, wanting to be as physically close as two people can ever be, needing to feel his skin on hers.  She tugged at his pants, her mouth finding his neck again as his teeth nibbled at her earlobe.  His hands were everywhere as he pulled back a bit to look at her, his eyes trailing over her form with an undisguised hunger.

The thin straps of her gown were pushed off her shoulders, his hands and body urging her to allow him to slide the silk from her body.  She complied, sitting up while he buried his head in the soft curve of one shoulder, her hands coming up to bury themselves in his soft blond hair.

Smokey gray eyes cracked open with a glazed over look that faded quickly when they took in the blinking light of the emergency beacon.  Her senses returned to her, Dorothy reluctantly pushed Quatre away, alerting him to the incoming transmission.

With an apologetic look, he turned away from her to receive the message, the fiery passion of moments before replaced by a cold knot of apprehension.  Somehow he knew the message was from Heero, and if it was from Heero, it could only mean one thing.

Relena was in even more danger than they had imagined.

Heero would have to forgo all communications.

They would never hear from him again.