Part 3
Zoisite knew that this Kunzite was in his sister’s quarters, and he had prepared a cheerful smile and witty greeting. But when the door swung open, his smile faded and all thoughts of wit flew out of his head. He stood frozen, gazing at the man before him.
His eyes took in the slightly disheveled appearance of one of the Dark Kingdom’s greatest generals. He had abandoned the usual, stiff, gray uniform, which Zoisite himself now wore, for a close-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt, and loose black pants of some silky fabric. His long silver hair trailed over his shoulders to lie on his broad chest. And his eyes - Zoisite gazed into the dark silver eyes and felt the world fall away.
He vaguely heard the man - Kunzite, his mind told him - say something to him, but the words themselves didn’t register, only the warm, deep timbre of his voice and his concerned tone. He said nothing as Zellaura pushed him into the room, ushered Jadeite in, and closed the door. He heard his sister make the introductions -
"Zoisite, this is Kunzite. Kunzite, my brother Zoisite."
He held out his hand dazedly.
Kunzite clasped the proffered hand firmly, and the pale man seemed to come alive.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Kunzite. I hear you and Zell are shacking up."
Kunzite responded to the sly grin with a friendly one. "For nearly a year now."
"Really? That’s terrific. I was scared that Zell was going to end up an old maid."
"ZOISITE!" Zellaura sharply jabbed an elbow into her twin’s rib-cage. He retreated, laughing, to an armchair, and sank into it bonelessly, crossing one lanky leg over the other. Kunzite took the other chair, Jadeite perched cross-legged on the bed, and Zellaura remained standing, hovering between her brother and Kunzite.
"Well, I’m sorry I didn’t know about you two before I arrived. I would have brought an anniversary present. My last outpost had just received a contraband shipment of Federation wines."
Kunzite looked surprised. "Federation is my favorite."
"I should hope so! It’s only the best wine this side of the Castor cluster! You can’t beat a bottle of vintage Federation Picard."
Zellaura choked, then said "Personally, I find the Picard wines too damn sweet, and you can’t afford to smuggle anything Federation on a major’s salary, but I have some Alliance Endor, if you’d all care to indulge."
"Excuse me, sister mine? Did you just style yourself ‘major’?"
Zellaura turned slowly to Zoisite, hands on her hips. "Yes," she said, her tone daring him to challenge her. "I did."
Zoisite arched one golden eyebrow, then dropped his cool facade and grinned hugely. He leapt up and hugged Zellaura tightly, picking her up off her feet and swinging her in a circle before setting her down. "Congratulations, Zell! That’s wonderful news! Now we have to break out that wine!"
Kunzite, who had been watching with a bemused smile, got up and sat Zellaura down in his chair. "I’ll get it. Jadeite, you want some as well?"
"Please!" said the boyish man eagerly.
"That’s what I remember most about you, Jadeite," Zoisite teased. "You never could refuse alcohol."
While the blond-headed trio traded stories and memories, Kunzite retrieved the wine from the dresser’s bottom drawer. He pulled the glasses from their compartment in the negative space beside the table and poured the white. Having brought each person his or her wine, and barely keeping from spilling it from laughing at Zoisite’s jokes, he took his own glass and joined Jadeite on the bed."
"A toast!" called Zoisite. "To Zell, for her promotion!"
"To Zoisite, for finally dropping in," she countered.
"To Jadeite, the mastermind who enabled him to drop in," smiled Kunzite.
"To Kunzite," Jadeite chimed in, "for pouring the wine, majorly kicking butt in Magella, putting up with Zell for a year, and being strong enough to be four years older than the rest of us kids."
"See Zell? All the important relationships in your life come down to that significant number of four," Zoisite pointed out. All four raised their glasses and drank.
As Kunzite sipped his wine, he contemplated the young man sitting across the room from him. Zoisite talked easily and laughed often, in a high tenor voice that was pleasant to listen to. His slanted emerald eyes glowed with energy and vitality. One gloved hand held the fluted wine glass, while the other played with the end of his long, blonde ponytail. His pointed chin and high cheekbones gave his face the illusion of fragility. Excepting the thin, red scar down his face, the slightly broader shoulders, and the flat chest, he really did look very much like Zellaura. The main difference lay in how their bodies moved.
Zellaura sat comfortably in her chair, letting it support her weight, reclining fully. Zoisite appeared to relax, but Kunzite, with his keen, observant eye, could see that the man’s slender body was actually tensed and alert, ready to spring to action at a moment’s notice.
-He’s hair-triggered. Must be the result of the A.E.S. Poor man. Did I think him slender? No, gods no, he’s all whipcord and bone, too lean to be healthy. I’ll have to see that he eats well while he’s here.- Already, Kunzite was feeling protective of the young man. For all his casual cleverness and dangerous lifestyle, he seemed quite young, and even vulnerable. Kunzite felt drawn to him, felt determined to help him with any problems he could.
The first of which was going to have to be his snobbery.
"This is excellent," Zoisite complimented, swirling his wine glass in a tiny circle. "Those less fortunate must settle for Tauntaun, while we are favored with . . . mmm, is that almond I taste? Yes, a lovely, floral aroma. But perhaps it’s a bit old. Endor is best when consumed young."
"I see you’ve acquired a knowledge of wines," Jadeite commented sardonically.
"Oh, one picks up these things," Zoisite said airily.
"Tell us," Kunzite leaned forward, "what is your favorite memory of being in the A.E.S.?"
"Kunzite, he’s not supposed to - "
"It’s all right," Zoisite cut his sister off. "I rather doubt any of you would betray me. And my favorite memory isn’t very exciting or secret. You’d rather hear the most dangerous mission I’ve ever been on. Now that was a thrill ride.
"No," Kunzite said, strangely intent. "Your favorite. Please."
"All right," Zoisite answered, a little startled. "It was . . . let me see, five years ago, right after Agent Kirgan, my then-partner, and I had completed our mission in the Andromedas. We had an hour or two to kill before our transport arrived, so we walked down to the Andromeda Ocean." As he spoke, the sharp tension in Zoisite’s face and body seemed to lessen. His eyes grew wistful and his voice softened.
"It was evening, and the sun was just setting. We sat on the beach and watched the clouds slowly turn from white to gray, to pink and then purple. Where the sun touched the sea, the water was on fire, this brilliant, golden, crimson glow, stretching off into the horizon. We heard - actually could hear the moment that the sun sank under the waves, and for one second, everything was utterly peaceful. It was quiet and warm and beautiful, and I could forget the mission I had just completed and just sit still with . . ." Zoisite’s voice faded and he ducked his head. When he looked back up, his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I’ve never felt so safe as I did then," he concluded.
There was a silence no one wanted to break. Then Zoisite cleared his throat, the guarded tension returned to his body. "Like I said, pretty, but not terribly exciting. Um, look, I don’t want to seem rude but -"
"Oh, I am so sorry!" Zellaura jumped up. "You must be tired out of your head. Jadeite, could you walk Zoisite to his room? It’s the quarters we passed on the way here, with the black and green door."
Jadeite started to lift himself off the bed, but Zoisite waved him back down. "That’s really not necessary, sister mine. I’m sure I can find it without getting lost in this maze you call a headquarters."
"Well, if you’re sure . . ."
"I am." Zoisite rose, drained his glass in one smooth movement, and gave Zellaura a one-armed hug. He slapped Jadeite on the knee."
"See you tomorrow for a briefing, Zoi. My room."
"I’ll be there with bells on. Good seeing you after all this time." He turned to Kunzite, but the older man had already risen. He took the empty glass from Zoisite, set it on the table, and placed a friendly hand on Zoisite’s lower back, escorting him to the door."
"I’d like to see you tomorrow as well, Kunzite," Zoisite ventured. "I’m sure I’ll be seeing your hag."
"ZOISITE!"
Kunzite chuckled. "Sure. Come by early evening. We’ll three of us do dinner."
"How come I’m not invited?" Jadeite asked plaintively from the bed.
"Because tomorrow evening, you have a date."
"I do? With who?"
Zellaura’s eyes danced with mirth. "Remember my friend Trill?"
Jadeite goggled. "She agreed to go out with me?"
"Not quite," Kunzite smiled. "She begged Zell to fix you two up."
"She DID?" Jadeite collapsed backwards on the bed in an exaggerated faint, then clawed his way into a sitting position, clutching at his heart.
"Jadeite always did have a fondness for the ladies," Zoisite said affectionately.
"Don’t we all?" Kunzite was smiling at Zellaura, and missed the sharp, sudden look Zoisite flashed him. But Jadeite didn’t.
His eyes narrowed, then widened in realization. He looked swiftly from Zoisite to Kunzite, and back again. He thought of saying something, then dismissed the idea. He was by no means judgmental.
"So I’ll see you tomorrow night then."
Kunzite turned back to Zoisite and nodded in affirmative. He shook Zoisite’s hand, and drew closer to him. "Zoisite," he said, looking the younger man directly in the eyes, "thank you." Zoisite smiled a little. Then he stepped out into the corridor, closing the door silently behind him. "I like him, Zell," Kunzite said, still staring at the closed door in front of him. "I really do." -I wonder what he was like before the A.E.S.- he thought to himself.
Zoisite pulled the door shut and sagged against the wall. His heart was beating so loud that he thought he could hear it thudding against his rib-cage, and so fast that he could barely breathe.
"Nine years in the Dark Kingdom’s most dangerous enterprise, facing death at least once a week, and I still get unnerved by a pretty face," he muttered. But he knew he was lying to himself. He had been more than struck by the man’s incredibly handsome face and strong body, had felt that long-forgotten feeling of desire, and it made him both ecstatic and terrified. He sank to the floor, back against the wall, and buried his head in his hands, barely remembering to activate the implant.
As he watched his hands disappear, Zoisite thought -I loved you, Kir, and I wronged you, and I’ll never stop paying for that. But is it so terrible to want again what I had in you? I won’t betray your memory, not after what I did, but . . . gods, Kir, I could fall in love with this man. I miss loving, and being loved. I miss that,, and I miss you. I’m so, so desperately sorry, but I’m so lonely . . .- He bit back a sob, willing himself not to break down. He managed a tiny, woebegone smile.
-Well, he’s not exactly available to me. Not in any aspect. But still, I thought I saw . . . something in his eyes . . - Zoisite’s forehead wrinkled as he wondered.
-Even if he is - if he could be -I couldn’t. He’s Zell’s and it’d be wrong. But I’ve been so miserable. Don’t I deserve happiness? Ah, but not at my sister’s expense! Why is life so horribly, horribly unfair? Wasn’t what I had to do to Kirgan enough? Why can’t I ever have what I want?! Oh, hell with it!- he thought savagely. -To hell with Zellaura, to hell with courtesy, to hell with it all! Don’t I live life on the edge anyway? I’ll try my damnedest, and who knows? Maybe I’ll have a reason for coming back from the Moon Kingdom.-
Zoisite had told Jadeite and Zellaura that this was to be his last mission, but hadn’t told them the real reason why. -What would I have to look forward to? Kir gone these four years, everyone else gone . . I don’t even anticipate my missions anymore, and I used to be so excited about them. Doing this one, then conveniently falling on a sword would really be the best for everyone concerned.
But if I had someone to come back to, someone to spend my life with. . . . no, that’s too far ahead. I’ll try. I’ll try to win.- He levered himself to a standing position and headed down the dimly-lit corridor towards his room. He felt heartened and lively, much to his surprise. He had though that, at twenty-three, he was too old for romantic nonsense. But Kunzite had struck a chord in him, a rusty, out of practice chord, but one that resonated deeply within him nonetheless.