CHAPTER IV- Cleanliness

Relena smiled at Trowa, who was sleepily eating toast in the kitchen. Heero had left shortly before to check in for work at the Preventer HQ on L1. They mask of normalcy must be placed over everything they did, for Heero knew that his sister had an ear on every wall, and an eye in every window.

What was most amusing about Trowa was his hair. The ex- clown's locks were thick and stiff, molding into position with the simple movements of a brush. However, in the morning his hair stood up in every direction, making him resemble the lions he used to tame at the circus.

Trowa looked up at her blearily, and she suppressed the urge to giggle, "I'm going to take a bath, Trowa."

"Ungh."

The first lady wisely took that grunt as an affirmative response.

Relena slid open the bathroom door carefully, feeling somehow soothed by the gentle scrap of the thin door against the frame. She sighed and eased her hair out of its ponytail, releasing the tension on her scalp. She looked back to the empty hallway and then slid shut the door.

She leaned over and turned on the water for the tub, and smiled. She then turned to the cupboard and pulled out soap and shampoo and a sponge, feeling that sense of relaxed anticipation of becoming clean.

Cleanliness was not merely a physical thing to Relena, but a mental one as well. Every night, she would literally wash away the lingering feelings of doubt and uncertainty in the bath, and it was a feeling she needed in this time of emotional turmoil.

She turned off the tap and stepped in, sinking under so that only her face was exposed. The sounds of the street and neighbors had disappeared underwater, leaving Relena alone with her thoughts. She felt immersed in a sheath of heat, relaxed and comfortable and away from annoyances. Even gravity, the constant tug of the Earth on its creatures or the artificial pull created by the Colonies, seemed lightened. Her long blond hair, always tugging on her head, lost its sense of weight. Her limbs stretched out under the water, un-pressured.

She closed her eyes, depriving herself of visuals. Now she was indeed completely alone.

Her thoughts wandered back to Darrell Wayridge. A president, a husband, a man murdered. Deceiving him of her emotions for the past several months had been like a game, a terribly stressful game that she could not escape. She had believed she would spend the rest of her life living in the game, becoming so used to her lies that she would think of them as reality.

But in one night, all of that had changed.

And Heero Yuy had reappeared.

She did mourn Darrell's death- he was, after all, a good man, more pure than she was, more innocent in all of his many years than she had ever been in the few of hers. She had been forced through this event like a rigorous rite of passage, much more damaging than her first when her father died, because there had been no Heero Yuy to look up to, no Heero Yuy to depend upon to give her hope.

And yet, in the end, he had returned to her, and she to him, as if they were the northern and southern ends of a magnet, unable to resist the pull that dragged them together time and time again.

She sat up, sending the water down in rivulets over her thin frame as it made a waterfall sound that dragged her back into reality, and to the constant pull of gravity that she could never escape.

Relena picked up the sponge and soap and began to clean herself vigorously, tearing away the dead skin and remainders of blood still staining her, cleaning away the feel of the ex-president's fingertips and the burn of his unwanted glances and touches searing her soul.

A whore. That's what she had been. That's what her people had forced her to become.

She piled her hair up on her head and began the strenuous task of cleaning it.

What was more important: the happiness of the world in whole or the happiness of the individual?

Relena sighed and dunked her head underwater.

She didn't know anything anymore.

After the bath was complete, Relena stepped out and unplugged the drain, sending her doubts and her dirty bath water into the sewers.

"Did you have a nice bath?" Trowa asked as he watched the morning cartoons.

Relena said something noncommittal and then did a double take. Trowa looked completely different. He was wearing a worn Preventer uniform, his hair was brushed, and he looked alert and solemn.

She altered her course to the kitchen and plopped down on the couch next to Trowa. She was wearing the clothes she had worn earlier to go out, uncertain of what she could take from Heero's wardrobe.

"Did you call Quatre yet?" Relena asked, picking up a magazine and then putting it down quickly.

The cover picture had been of the president and herself.

Trowa lowered the volume of his cartoon to respond, "Yes. He says he's putting some people into place, to figure out the loopholes in Senator Yuy's web of influence. We might be able to get out of here in a month."

Relena bit her lip. Being near Heero for one night had been hard enough, now she had to stay with him day in and day out for an entire month?

Trowa must have caught her worried expression because his tone was low and considerate, "That's probably a maximum. If we find a way out quickly, it will be less than that. It's hard to tell with these things."

Relena recognized the words for what they were and reached out to touch his hand, "Thank you, Trowa."

He nodded and took back his hand, "There's one thing I've always wondered, Relena…."

"Yes?" she said by way of consent.

He paused, as if trying to find the right words, "Did you and Heero, you know, ever talk about…I mean did you and Heero ever-" he threaded his fingers together t symbolize the act that was often considered unmentionable.

She blushed, "Yes."

Trowa the tension in the former pilot's face smoothed, "Ah."

"What?" she asked.

Trowa shrugged and folded his arms across his chest, "It isn't a bad thing, you know, following your heart. In the end, you always feel better."

Relena smiled sadly, "But sometimes, my friend, the heart can be a very inconvenient thing." With that, Relena rose to leave Trowa to his cartoons and his own thoughts.

If there were two things Relena loved in life, baring emotional attachments to people, it would be baths and gardens. The garden in which she was standing was a backyard variety, kept to a minimum and well looked after, the type that one could sit in front of for hours speculating about how they could make it more flashy and chic.

It was Relena's favorite kind of garden- a garden with potential. She smiled as she walked among the few beds, mourning the fact that there were no flowers.

She finally went to the bushes lining the fence, tracing her fingers over the small light green leaves that looked so proper and conservative.

She then stopped and gasped.

One of the bushes rustled.

Heero stretched from his position hunched over a computer. His report on the assassination was nearly complete, and he was looking forward to handing it over to Commander Wolf so that he could stop dwelling on the previous night's events…and Relena.

He felt the strangest urge to call and check up on her, a feeling Heero never experienced, except on days when Tyrone was particularly angry and stubborn and he knew the boy would be a menace at school.

However, this emotion was slightly different. It was more personal, more linked to the core of his soul. He couldn't find words to describe his current emotion.

He shrugged it off and transferred his report to disk.

"Tyrone!"

Relena's tone was surprised and confused as she looked down at the scuffed up young boy shaking under the brush.

He lifted his face and she noticed his black eye with a furious protectiveness.

"Tyrone, what happened to you?"

He stood up and dusted the dirt off of his knees. His expression was stubborn, "I got into a fight, that's all. I figured I'd come back for some ice during lunch recess."

Relena sighed in exasperation at men, boys, and everyone who had a 'Y' chromosome as she shuffled the child into the house to be cleaned.

"Okay, now look up at the cobweb Heero hasn't taken out yet in the kitchen as I clean this scrape." She ordered.

Tyrone looked over to her stern face fearfully and then did as he was told. She cleaned away the cut, biting back words of sympathy as she saw him flinch at the sting of the antiseptic.

"So, how'd you get into this fight?"

He shrugged, "I dunno. I felt like it, I guess."

She put a bandage on the scrape and the turned her attention to his legs.

"Do you feel any better now that you've fought? Was it worth it, getting into the fight?"

He looked down at her with false pride, "Of course it was. I defended myself. The kid was bigger than me and I whooped him."

"I didn't ask how the fight came out, I asked how you felt afterwards. How did you feel? Did you like hurting someone, or did you hate it?"

This is where things got difficult for Tyrone, all his life, he had been instructed that hurting others was for the better good, Heero was trying to unteach him, and now Relena's sudden questioning brought up the now constant conflict in his mind.

He shoved her away and jumped off the chair and out the door.

Trowa stepped in several moments later.

"Are you alright?"

Relena sighed and picked herself up off the ground, "Yeah, he just surprised me, that's all."

"Where do you think he's going?"

Relena began putting away the first aid supplies she had taken form Heero's bathroom, "Back to school, most likely. I see a lot of confusion in him, much like you guys during the war- especially Heero."

Relena handed Trowa the case to put away, and then went to the kitchen to find her bodyguard and herself some food.