Author’s Note: well, the politics in this section are completely based upon the British parliamentary procedures, used by most democratic nations in the world (especially in Europe, which seems to be the center of the GW universe, politically speaking). My reasons? Well, if you look at post-Cold War history, you’ll see that many former Soviet Satellite states opted for this type of government because the executive branch does not have nearly as much power as it does in the U.S. They did this to protect themselves from their history of megalomaniacal leaders. I think the Earth Sphere and Colonial Alliance would do the same thing.
Disclaimer: As much as I would love to change this, someone else owns GW. Not me.
C&C—bring it on!
From Forever to Forever
Part Four: To Love
Christmas Eve, A.C. 202—Heero Yuy—1:14 p.m.
I know
WuFei’s going to say something as soon as he sees her. He’ll make some smart-ass, sarcastic
comment, and Relena will be horribly embarrassed. And Duo will take one look at her and whoop with glee.
It’s his
fault for inviting her to his wedding in the first place.
I clench
the steering wheel with both hands, grinding my teeth together. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her. Spending Christmas with her brother would be
easier than this.
“Are you
all right, Heero?” Lord, her voice is
so sweet. It was her voice that finally
won me, the August before last when I asked her out on our first date.
“I’m
fine.” I glance over at her, only to
find her staring right back at me.
She’s so beautiful.
“We don’t
have to do this,” she says hesitantly.
But I
want to. How can I explain myself? I know the guys will tease me, but I want
them to know about our relationship. I
want them to know that Relena is what I care about. I’m fighting for her again.
Not in the symbolic, idealistic way I did six years ago—but in a more
personal manner. I know that my death
will hurt her. So I fight to stay
alive. That’s not all there is to
it—but I can’t find the words that will tell her how much she means to me.
“Heero?”
“Hmm?”
“I-I just
want you to know . . . that . . . I love you.”
My heart
seems to stop. Love? No one’s ever loved me before. Maybe the other pilots—but that’s not
remotely the same.
Do I love
her?
I look
over at her. She’s staring straight
ahead, her face an emotionless mask.
Do I love
her?
We’ve
been dating for a year and four months.
Would we still be dating if I didn’t love her? Would we be sleeping together if I didn’t love her?
Her hands
clench the fabric of her skirt, and gradually her head droops.
I’ve
never loved anyone—how does it work?
How do you know if you’re ready to tell someone you want to spend the
rest of your lives together? I’ve felt
that way since we were kids, since the Marymeia uprising. That was the reason I ran away from her—why
I stayed away for four years. It
terrified me.
“I
understand.” Her voice is low,
dejected. “You don’t have to say it
back.”
I look
over to see tears streaming down her cheeks.
And it hurts. It hurts like hell to know that I’ve made her cry. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her cry.
“Relena.” She looks up at me, her expression a strange
mixture of fear and anticipation. “I
love you, too. I should’ve said it
months ago.”
“Really?” She smiles at me radiantly, wiping her tears
away with the back of her hand.
I nod,
returning her smile. “Really.”
Christmas Eve—Hilde Schbeiker—2:22 p.m.
You know,
there’s something about being with Silvia Winner that makes me act like a schoolgirl
again. And Sally is probably the
funniest person I know, next to Duo.
But with Heero bringing Relena into the group, it’s like adding kindling
to the fire.
We’ve
been hanging out in the kitchen since Relena got here, gossiping and pretending
to cook dinner. It’s nice to get away
from the men, and the kids are all taking their afternoon naps. So it’s like we’re sixteen again.
“Do you
want to know the strangest thing that ever happened at my school?”
Relena asked, grinning wickedly.
“Oh, I
doubt it can beat Hilde’s story about the cross-dressing boys at her senior
prom!” Sally protests, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.
“Believe
me,” Relena insists, in a serious voice, “this is even stranger than that.”
I shake
my head. “No way. What on earth could be stranger than
seventeen year old boys in drag?” I ask skeptically.
She grins
again. “Heero Yuy.”
Silvia
bursts out laughing, nearly dropping her champagne glass. I think she’s getting tipsy, and it’s not
even three yet. “Yes! I agree—even high school boys in formal
gowns aren’t stranger than Heero!”
I have to
agree. I reach into a bowl of candy,
pulling out a piece of Starburst. Duo’s
favorite candy. “You know,” I change
the subject, “I remember hearing one time in tenth grade that if you could open
a Starburst wrapper in your mouth, it meant you were a good kisser.”
“Using
just your tongue and teeth?” Relena asks.
I
nod.
“Let’s
find out, then!” Sally laughs; she grabs the bowl, marching out toward the
hallway. We curiously follow her down
the magnificent hall of the Winner mansion.
Once she reaches the drawing room doorway, she leans against it. “Gentlemen?” she asks huskily. “We have a mission for you.”
Silvia,
Relena, and I snicker, each taking a piece of candy.
“Here’s
the challenge,” I declare. “We want to
know who the best kisser is.”
Duo
stands up, grinning wildly. “Now this
is my kind of mission!” He
immediately heads over to Relena, preparing to kiss her.
Heero and
I both stop him. Violently.
“What do
you mean?” Trowa asks in a soft, curious voice.
Sally
smirks, holding out the bowl of candy.
“Apparently there’s an urban legend that says if you can open Starburst
in your mouth, you’re a good kisser.
Wanna try?” She offers the bowl
to Trowa, who immediately takes one.
“No
problem.” He pops it into his mouth,
wrapper and all, and within a minute he has the wrapper out again.
Relena
cheers and Silvia claps; Sally begins making lewd offers.
He shakes
his head, smiling and blushing a bit.
“It’s not that difficult.”
“Me
next!” Duo shouts, grabbing the candy from my hand. He throws it in, and struggles for a moment. I can’t help but laugh as his face contorts
and he starts making strange sounds.
Finally he spits the still-wrapped candy back into his hand. “This is not right—you guys must’ve glued it
shut or something.” He fumes, but pops
it back into his mouth and continues trying to open the wrapper.
“Will you
try, sweetie?” Silvia asks Quatre, giggling.
He gives her a strange look and takes the champagne glass from her hand,
setting it on the table. With a sigh,
he tosses the strawberry candy into his mouth.
He struggles, like Duo, but manages to get the wrapper partially off
before giving up entirely.
Silvia
laughs and looks at Trowa, raising her eyebrows in a less-than-subtle
invitation. “I knew I married the wrong
one . . .”
Sally
sits down next to WuFei. She hands him
a piece of candy wordlessly. He looks
at it and glares back. “You know I’m
allergic to this.”
“You’re
allergic to Starburst?” I ask incredulously.
Sally
shakes her head. “No—he’s allergic to
lemons.” She gives him a cherry piece
instead, and he takes it. He fares even
worse than Duo, if that can be said.
Relena
crosses the room, orange Starburst in hand, and feeds it to her boyfriend. Heero’s expression remains the same, even
when he pokes the empty wrapper out from between his lips. But Relena gives a triumphant smile.
“I guess
Relena’s the winner,” Silvia sighs, sitting between Quatre and Trowa. “Unless of course, Trowa wants to share his
talent with the ladies?”
“Uhn-uh!”
Duo cries, holding out his Starburst wrapper.
“I did it!”
I pat him
on the back and kiss his cheek. “It
took you long enough—but you did it.”
Sally
snickers. “How many times have you
heard that before, Duo?”
Christmas Eve—WuFei Chang—10:34 p.m.
The women
are discussing politics. Good Lord, I
thought this was supposed to be a relaxing evening with friends, not a
political showdown between Quatre’s wife and Heero’s girlfriend. Thank God Silvia has sobered up—the
afternoon nap did wonders for her.
It is
actually somewhat relaxing, though.
Duo, Trowa, and Quatre are playing with the kids. Good thing, since Duo’s the only one who has
enough energy to deal with his hellions.
Sally and Hilde are listening to the debate. Heero and I can’t help but listen—especially when Silvia stands
up, slams her palms on the table and raises her voice to the former queen of
the world.
“But life
is different out here in the colonies,” she insists. “We have to create new legislation that will keep people
content.”
Relena
shakes her head. “But you’re forgetting
that as politicians our duty is to do what the majority wants—a show of
no-confidence is the last thing anyone needs.”
“Relena,”
Silvia begins, her voice low and fierce.
“I am speaking on behalf of the majority in the L-4 cluster. Our traditions are different here, due to
the unique developments of these colonies.
“Unlike
some of the other clusters, L-4 could not allow natural childbirth until AC
194. It was illegal because children
and mothers had an extremely high mortality rate in labor. Because of this, birth control was a
necessity. But as more accidental
conceptions occurred, more doctors promoted abstinence. People chose homosexual intercourse for
safer sex—and over the years it became a preferred way of life. Over half of this colony classifies
themselves as gay, lesbian, or bisexual.
Look at the Maganacs—fifty-two percent of them are homosexual!”
“Really?”
Duo asks, looking up from his conversation with Trowa. “Is Rashid gay?”
I roll my
eyes. What difference does it make?
Quatre
scowls. “He’s married with three kids.”
“That
doesn’t mean anything, Quatre,” Silvia sighs.
Trowa
interjects. “I’ve known several gay men
who didn’t realize it until after they were married.”
“I
understand that, Silvia,” Relena articulates firmly, “and I think it’s
perfectly normal and acceptable for there to be homosexual relationships. However, can’t people be happy living
together? Why should the current law be
revoked in order to satisfy a worldwide minority when there is an
alternative? There are many other
things we have to work on—so many issues have been unresolved since the war.”
“Actually,”
I say, throwing myself into the argument, “I have to back Silvia. It’s not a matter of aestheticism. You’re forgetting that with marriage comes a
multitude of benefits—insurance, inheritance rights, changes in taxation
status. Common law marriages between
heterosexual marriages allow for this—but the gay community isn’t given the
right to have normal marriages, let alone common law.”
Silvia
nods appreciatively. “And unless we can
have the legislature changed—at least to allow the colonies some sort of
self-governing concerning homosexual rights—no politician from this colonial
cluster will get the support from the people.
It’s a part of our culture that the Earth Sphere isn’t permitting.”
“Notice
how she says ‘our culture’ even though she was born and raised in Sicily?”
Quatre teases, crossing the room to plant a kiss on his wife’s cheek. He successfully ended the debate without
letting them come to blows. Maxwell
must be disappointed.
But
still, it makes me wonder. I haven’t
really been paying attention to politics.
Listening to them rant and rave made me remember when Meiran and I would
bicker over political issues. I used to
pay so much more attention to the world around me.