With Eyes Shut It’s You
Title: With Eyes Shut It’s You
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Characters/Pairings: Une/Dorothy, Nichol, Trowa, Hilde,
Word Count: 4000
Summary: alternate canon, post series. EW didn’t happen. Nichol puts in for a transfer.
A/N: aquatinted. after stoic_rose brought it up, I realized there had been a shortage of Trowa/Nichol, Une/Dorothy fics around here. In a meager effort to rectify that oversight... I sort of failed, too.
***
The trouble with answering a personals ad was that you never were quite sure what you were going to get. And then there was the one time when he was the more handsome one compared to your average mug. You counted the minutes until he found a reasonable excuse to leave your sorry ass for whatever hot other thing he couldn’t stop fawning over in his mind. Or the three minutes it took for his emergency call to gain his escape.
Nichol scratched his forehead finding that he had started to perspire under the lights of the restaurant. The reservation hadn’t been easy to come by and now he faced the choice of eating alone or giving up the table.
Damn Fredrick or Franz or... whatever his screen-name was, Nichol thought to himself. He turned his head to stare at the couple at the next table over. Caught under his scrutiny, the woman stopped eating, fork lifted part way. Her brow furrowed.
“Are you ready to order, sir?” The waitress asked. She tactfully did not look at the second glass of untouched water. But her avoidance was just as bad. Nichol blushed badly.
“Maybe I should skip right to the beer,” he muttered.
“Wine list?” she remained polite, but her fingers fluttered around whatever black folder she held.
Then a presence leaned across his back and tickled his ear with her breath. “How did you end up at the wrong table, Nicky? We’re in the other room.”
“Dorothy?” He recognized her unreasonably long blonde hair and patient smirk. Nichol didn’t expect someone from back home. He’d specifically chosen a different city for the meet up. Meet up, what a laugh. It had lasted as long as a limp handshake.
“Come on, hang out with the lesbians,” Dorothy chuckled, which meant that Nichol’s boss had traveled sixty minutes to the Lake Victoria scene as well.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“We’ll take care of his bill,” Dorothy instructed the staff.
“You will not.” Nichols protests were unheeded by either woman. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“We’ve been here a while, but not long enough to see what vixen couldn’t enjoy your company for an hour.” Dorothy looped her arms with his. “It seems as if you tried to dress up for her.”
Her. And that was Nichol’s other small dilemma. At the Preventor base, he had a very different sort of lifestyle, which made this juxtaposition all the more confusing. Dorothy directed him to a private room where Une smiled kindly at him. His heart fluttered a little under her approval. Time had been that Nichol had to hold her world together, a privilege that he’d enjoyed until she’d chosen someone else over him.
He liked Dorothy though. Dorothy had come along even later still, doing interviews after the war had ended and soldiers were given the choice to volunteer for space duty or not.
“I would recommend their port wine seitan,” Une greeted him. “It’s very tender without being chewy.”
“Is that steak?” Nichol asked, still wondering why they hadn’t given him a menu.
Dorothy hid her smile. “You do know the Blossom is a vegan establishment?” Whatever expression crossed his face had her tinkling with laughter.
Nichol drank half of his water goblet while Une said, “I’ll have them add an extra order for you, but tell me about the progress your department has been making with the terahertz detector.”
He sputtered badly enough that Dorothy quickly found an extra cloth napkin to give him. Une watched while saying, “Trowa seemed to think that your team had uncovered something pretty remarkable.”
“Is that what he said?” Nichol leaned away from the table watching cautiously.
“What’s with that grimace?” Dorothy glanced between them. “I didn’t know you knew Trowa? Are you on the same project?”
“No,” Nichol hesitated. “He’s in new recruit training.”
“That’s across the base,” Dorothy said slowly.
“Yes, it’s quite a remarkable distance for your demonstration.” Une’s lips stayed pressed together.
“Am I in trouble?” Nichol half-whispered. “Because I asked for the transfer months ago.”
“You’re leaving?” Dorothy set her glass down.
“No, he’s not leaving. And no, you’re not in trouble. Trowa Barton has a good sense of humor.” Une glanced between them. “If we ever need to see through a person’s clothing at great distances...”
“Nichol!” Dorothy’s jaw dropped. “Why would you do that?”
“To see if we could? We were testing to see what was possible and I don’t like the guy,” Nichol shrugged. Une continued to smile which meant he’d probably survive the rest of the evening. And remembering the small victory from his teams efforts did soften the blow to his failed sex life. “How did he find out though?”
“Trowa’s a very resourceful young man,” Une said simply. Nichol looked at his hands. Of course, that advantage of Barton’s was what had unnerved a younger Nichol during his service on Barge. “Didn’t we assign both of you to new recruit training at one point? I thought that was one of your areas?”
Nichol shook his head, “Didn’t want to work... for Sally Po when I could make things right with you.”
“Was that why?” Une paused as food was set around the table.
“Besides the obvious...” Nichol clarified but found his words cut off by their blonde companion.
“I’m glad we saw you, Nichol.” Dorothy sampled her plate with exaggerated enthusiasm. “You did pick out a rather classy place. She’s a wench for ditching you like that.”
“Too much, Dorothy.” Une raised a brow. The blonde woman chewed quietly, but not for long.
“What happened to the last girl you were dating?” Dorothy pondered. “The one from Preventor accounting, was it? I seem to remember her coming by the lab while I was researching the show.” Dorothy worked for a network news program.
Nichol let his eyes scan the ceiling as if he might find her name written in the lights. Or perhaps an image of her face. He did have a pretty good recollection of the undone buttons of her uniform. He coughed.
“She wasn’t really my type,” he replied diplomatically.
^^^
The underlying trouble wasn’t that Nichol couldn’t prowl the Preventors for a boyfriend, but that he preferred to keep his relationships private. Moreso after his feelings for Une had landed him in a lot of trouble. It had been several years in their past, but it still came up on his psychological profile and in every counseling session.
“And after Une demonstrated preferential treatment for Trowa Barton, you disobeyed her instructions and went to an alternate authority?”
Nichol fought to stay reclined on the couch. Again. They were making him talk about it again. Through tight teeth he said, “Trowa Barton was at the time a Gundam spy. He had infiltrated our command. Lady Une had compromised herself...”
This Preventor shrink actually interrupted him. “Yes, that’s what we have documented from the last session. And the year before that. Word for word even.”
“Then why do you keep asking?” Nichol kicked his heel lightly against the cushion. It did not help his mood or release any of the building frustration.
“It’s a yes or no question. You disobeyed her instructions and went to an alternate authority?”
“What did I say last year?” Nichol grumbled.
^^^
“I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to leave that room feeling better.” Nichol pointed his gelato dripping spoon at Dorothy. He enjoyed her company and she could drop off the clock on a whim. It was convenient. “I feel like a prisoner failing parole, over and over again.”
Dorothy’s eyes followed his next hand gestures as if she were expected to interpret their signing. He set his hands down and stared out the window at the traffic.
“You do know that Une doesn’t even think about those days anymore, right? Well, even if she did, not nearly as much as you do,” Dorothy consoled.
“Does the Preventor evaluation make her question that split personality period in her life?” Nichol asked more slowly, genuinely curious if he were suffering such sessions alone.
“Shouldn’t you ask her that?” Dorothy ran her spoon around the empty dish. “I don’t know why the Preventors do things the way that they do.”
“They make me feel like I’m giving them the wrong answer, as if I didn’t get past that one mistake in my life.” Nichol squeezed the paper napkin.
Dorothy’s phone buzzed and she checked her message. “Looks like you haven’t called my friend yet. I told her you were going to last week...”
“I hate technology.” Nichol leaned against his hand.
She reminded, “You work in technology.”
“I hate technology at this moment.”
^^^
“Hello, are you Nichol?” A young woman in uniform knocked on the frame of his office door. Actually it was a shared office, but at that hour of the evening the only officer who stuck around was the one who got the space. And, usually, quiet.
“I am he,” Nichol turned in the seat to smile at the dark-headed agent. She had an easy smile and arms full of orientation documents. He cleared a place at the table behind him, “If you want to set that down.”
“Thanks,” she admitted, putting down the manuals and handbooks. “I don’t understand why they don’t hand out Welcome To The Preventors reusable bags while they’re at it.”
“Not in the budget.” Nichol shook his head. “You’re lucky that you got these,” he tapped the manual. “I’m still playing it by ear.”
“Haha,” she joked. “I’m Hilde Schbeiker. Day one.”
“Nichol Pushkar with a k. Yes, I know how it sounds, and don’t laugh. It’s Ukrainian.”
“Alright then.” Hilde glanced around the small space. Of course her eyes found the photograph of the Specials class 195. Nichol knew each face. Before they were broken up and scattered throughout the Alliance and OZ and White Fang and whatever faction they survived to see take over the next. Or didn’t survive.
He glanced at his watch. Typically no one stayed this late, not even Nichol. He’d definitely been too absorbed in updating the time clocking system for the civilian hourlies. He asked, “So how can I help you?”
“I’m good with machines,” Hilde said. “Did a very abbreviated service with OZ, but most of my experience is as a scrapper.” He could hear the colony accent then.
“Not around L3 was it?” He struggled to remember what other colonies he’d skimmed for fledgling reinforcements during the war. Still he’d have noticed a woman like Hilde, and she wouldn’t have been old enough to have served while OZ was in the colonies.
“I pulled some strings to get in.” She didn’t blush but sounded as if she should. “Plus, OZ couldn’t resist my raw talent. It was slim pickings...”
“Yeah.” Nichol shook his head from the conflicting loyalties. The Preventors pulled from all sorts to get staff even now. Former enemies openly sat side by side: Gundam pilots, OZ lieutenants and now runaways from the colonies.
Hilde was still talking. “Of course, he didn’t think it was a good idea. But just because he turned down the invitation didn’t mean that I couldn’t accept it. So here I am.”
“Yes, why are you here exactly?” Nichol queried.
“I’m training in as your replacement,” Hilde said at half-power, as if confused. “You did request a transfer?”
^^^
“Find some way to stay,” Dorothy preened, sipping her punch glass. “Nichol, she’s so cute.”
“In a petite pixie sort of way.” Nichol tilted his head to watch Hilde around the other guests at Une’s party for the new recruits. He changed the subject. “So this is your new place.” He glanced around the architecture of dark woods and generously large artwork of planets as seen from space. “Very grand,” he laughed.
“Oh, you think so?” Dorothy chuckled. “It does suit us after all. And you should see the bedroom.”
“I’d rather not,” Nichol declined.
“Leaving it to your imagination,” she nudged him slyly.
“No details, no imagination...” Nichol started.
“But why look directly when you can use a terahertz detector?” Trowa Barton stood in front of them. “Hello Dorothy, Nichol.”
“Yes?” Nichol raised an eyebrow.
“You’re in front of the punch.” Trowa moved between them gently bumping Nichol in what might have been an effort not to slide against Dorothy’s cleavage. They were in Dorothy’s house after all, and Une didn’t share.
Nichol would have moved away except that Dorothy had started talking to the younger man. Something about how he was there to encourage the new trainees and he would like the tour.
“Even if this one doesn’t.” He let his green eyes slide over to Nichol who looked away.
“Yeah, just watch his infiltration skills,” Nichol muttered loud enough to be heard. “You might find him still in your kitchen next week.”
Trowa laughed. Then said, “Oh, Hilde! You are here.”
“Trowa.” Hilde came closer. Then noticing Nichol, she added, “You were right about this guy. He was still in the office.”
Dorothy snuggled closer to Nichol’s arm to get a good look at the subject of their earlier conversation. Nichol had been distracted, so the conversation registered slowly. He caught a detail, “Barton sent you over?”
“Yes, it was odd since we know each other, you see,” Hilde smiled. “So we got to talking when he explained that actually you would be handling my instruction. Which is different than normal?”
“Don’t worry,” Trowa interjected. “Nichol used to train, so you won’t miss out on any of the basics.”
“I just miss out on you, you mean.” Hilde slugged his arm in a rather unladylike manner. Dorothy chuckled.
“I’m sure you’ll see me around,” Trowa reassured.
“Maybe if I work late. Is it always you two closing up the place like that?” She glanced between the two men.
“I guess so,” Nichol said when Trowa didn’t answer.
^^^
“How was that?” The weight across his back wasn’t uncomfortable, yet.
“I’m definitely not complaining.” Nichol lifted his head from the sweat-stained pillow. Fingers pressed on his face, in his mouth and then he closed his eyes. Things were always a little complicated between then and sleep.
When he woke up he was alone in the hotel room. He saw the card with an apology (work) and a phone number (anytime). Nichol dropped it into the trash. Later, he would delete his online account.
“Celebrating a transfer,” he said to himself and closed the door behind him.
^^^
“So, I have to ask.” Hilde put down her pencil from making notes in the Reconstruction of Taurus manual. The office cleared out around 17:00 and then they set up for a few hours of intense knowledge sharing. She knew her nuts and bolts which made the process more enjoyable than Nichol had expected.
Nichol stopped prepping the reports to automatically run at midnight .“Now’s the time to ask.”
“Every one of the project managers here has a picture of a significant other, or two,” she added, pointing her thumb at Nelson’s snapshot with twins. “But then I notice you’ve got them.”
Nichol found his smile came easier than he thought it would. “And that’s why I wouldn’t normally want a woman in this office. Too smart. Too nosy. Fortunately, Une spends little time down here and expects us to put on formal uniforms when going up to report...”
“Are you going to tell me?” she asked.
“Barlow, Johnson, Merica, Taylor, Jeter and Sanchez. Me. Walker.”
“Graduating class?”
“Yes,” he answered. “But this is just before I left for space. Walker had actually earned top honors, but chose to take a leadership position on Corsica. So I got the Barge mission.”
Hilde didn’t ask about Barge. If she had a history with Barton or served in OZ, she knew already. He had also noted she dropped her eyes at the mention of Jacob’s assignment.
“This can’t be your only picture,” Hilde insisted.
“We were a bunch of serious kids. That’s how you got into the program. And there was always later,” he repeated. “Later.”
“Did any of them make it?”
“Just me.”
^^^
It would have made more sense if the Preventor shrink asked Nichol about the Specials. Then he could explain how he hadn’t given leaving a second thought. He would be taking the risks. He was going to space. He had the metal can in his future. Jacob Walker would babysit a mobile suit and try not to reduce his job description to plays with giant robots.
A smart shrink would say, “Did you love him?” Because Nichol wouldn’t be able to say any more after that point. A proper answer would have taken pages to explain.
Even for a yes or no question.
^^^
“I’m not here to help you pack,” Dorothy clarified. “I’m only here for moral support and to unpack things when you decide to stay.”
“Come on in,” Nichol waved her inside his apartment. The place was largely anonymous, as he liked it. The past should be private and even a snapshot of his graduating class had generated uncomfortable questions.
“And I should know that Une would take you back in a heartbeat,” she added for good measure.
“Then what would happen to Hilde?” Nichol shook his head. “No, I’ll take the next assignment and haunt some other Preventor hallways.”
“Well, maybe you’ll finally find some warm body when you move.” Dorothy sat on the one clear space on his couch as she surveyed the explosion of boxes, packing tape and bubble wrap around the room. “Which neatly explains why you were at Lake Victoria.”
“Pardon?” Nichol lifted a coaster and paused from straining his memory to find the rest of the set.
“That’s how Trowa explained it to me anyway. You only dated people around where you wanted to go...”
“That’s not it at all...” Nichol fumed. “And how does he think he knows anything about me?”
“No?” Dorothy lifted her arms to leisurely settle along the back of the couch. “He has another theory that you don’t like to give out your real name. But it took a lot of alcohol to pry that one out of him. A lot.”
“You went drinking with him?” Nichol reached up to turn on the ceiling fan. The room seemed rather claustrophobic.
“And Hilde, sort of an our generation sort of thing--caught between most former-OZ and the new kids. Wufei refused though... surprise.”
Nichol considered her for a moment. Of course when he left she would hang out with other people. Dorothy couldn’t be expected to mope around without someone nearby to hear her clever jokes.
“He’s somewhat of an expert on you,” Dorothy went on.
You don’t like to give out your real name... Nichol realized the words she’d used before. Barton knew. Or suspected something close to the truth.
“And Hilde’s somewhat of an expert on Trowa. Did you know he used to be in the circus?”
“Yes,” Nichol snapped, but Dorothy only reacted by shaking her head. He set the coaster down and went into the kitchen to break a few dishes so he didn’t have to pack them.
^^^
He sent Hilde home. It was Friday and even Nichol didn’t want to stay late. But he left her walking toward the near exit and he turned to cross the grounds toward the classrooms. So Trowa Barton stayed late sometimes. He’d find out.
Partway up the sidewalk, Nichol hesitated. He was moving. Let Barton wonder and leave things alone. Any confrontation would needlessly encourage Barton to explore further. The man was like that. He turned and walked away.
“So you changed your mind, I see.”
Nichol stopped. Well, he’d been spotted anyway. “What are you still doing here, Barton?” he called over. Trowa stood in the doorway balancing the weight of the door with his foot and a handful of electronic gizmos in his arms. Nichol didn’t readily recognize any of them at the distance.
“I have to grade these,” Trowa said as he got closer. “The kids were supposed to make better surveillance devices, but I’d settle for functioning with this class.”
“Can’t you just test these here?” Nichol inquired.
“Can’t,” Trowa shrugged. “It’s Friday. And you’ve already left your office.”
What had Une said? “Trowa’s a very resourceful young man.” And Dorothy? “He’s somewhat of an expert on you.”
“How long have you used the new kids as a means to spy on me?” Nichol sighed.
“Years?” Trowa admitted. “It’s rather more entertaining than testing it out on the classrooms next door. And I can give points for the distance as well as clarity,” he paused. “I just never suspected you’d turn around and do the same thing to me.”
“That test came down to a vote.” Nichol raised a finger.
“But I recall you were the one to put my name on the list,” Trowa smiled.
Nichol had to admit, “The idea to use you was rather popular once I put the notion in their heads.”
“I wonder why.”
“Don’t fish for compliments,” Nichol grumbled.
The public transportation vehicles were parked in the faculty lot so Nichol kept pace with Trowa on their way out of the base. Trowa bent his elbow at a strange angle while reaching for his keys, and Nichol curiously found himself helping catch the odds and ends that the new Preventors tried to pass off as covert devices.
“Thanks,” Trowa didn’t look at him.
Nichol examined the piece of equipment in his hands and said, “You’re not doing something right if this is what they’re coming up with.”
“We had an excellent mechanical basics trainer at one time.” Trowa bent into the car to relieve his arms of their burdens. Standing upright again he did meet Nichol’s look while collecting the rest of the projects. “He keeps running away from what he’s good at, though.”
“Don’t shrug your deficiencies on me,” Nichol scowled.
“We get by.” Trowa didn’t back down. Nichol noticed the younger man seemed a little pale under his typically tanned complexion.
“Don’t let Dorothy take you drinking mid-week if you’re going to hold your liquor so badly,” Nichol advised. “She’ll learn your schedule if you make her.” It felt strange giving Trowa his blessing to be friends with Dorothy, but it seemed right.
“Now you give me advice,” Trowa muttered with a surly attitude.
“That...” Nichol laughed but couldn’t hold a grin. “That. You only show that side of you to me, which is why everyone else thinks you’re the better half of this feud.”
“Stop making me regret...” Trowa started.
“Yeah, whatever,” Nichol scoffed. He glanced at the public cars and found his pass card in his wallet. “Soldiers get to bear more than a few of those. Or don’t your psychological sessions work either?”
Trowa stayed where he stood, but Nichol got into the public car. He let out a breath and felt... of all things, ready to leave.
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Characters/Pairings: Une/Dorothy, Nichol, Trowa, Hilde,
Word Count: 4000
Summary: alternate canon, post series. EW didn’t happen. Nichol puts in for a transfer.
A/N: aquatinted. after stoic_rose brought it up, I realized there had been a shortage of Trowa/Nichol, Une/Dorothy fics around here. In a meager effort to rectify that oversight... I sort of failed, too.
***
The trouble with answering a personals ad was that you never were quite sure what you were going to get. And then there was the one time when he was the more handsome one compared to your average mug. You counted the minutes until he found a reasonable excuse to leave your sorry ass for whatever hot other thing he couldn’t stop fawning over in his mind. Or the three minutes it took for his emergency call to gain his escape.
Nichol scratched his forehead finding that he had started to perspire under the lights of the restaurant. The reservation hadn’t been easy to come by and now he faced the choice of eating alone or giving up the table.
Damn Fredrick or Franz or... whatever his screen-name was, Nichol thought to himself. He turned his head to stare at the couple at the next table over. Caught under his scrutiny, the woman stopped eating, fork lifted part way. Her brow furrowed.
“Are you ready to order, sir?” The waitress asked. She tactfully did not look at the second glass of untouched water. But her avoidance was just as bad. Nichol blushed badly.
“Maybe I should skip right to the beer,” he muttered.
“Wine list?” she remained polite, but her fingers fluttered around whatever black folder she held.
Then a presence leaned across his back and tickled his ear with her breath. “How did you end up at the wrong table, Nicky? We’re in the other room.”
“Dorothy?” He recognized her unreasonably long blonde hair and patient smirk. Nichol didn’t expect someone from back home. He’d specifically chosen a different city for the meet up. Meet up, what a laugh. It had lasted as long as a limp handshake.
“Come on, hang out with the lesbians,” Dorothy chuckled, which meant that Nichol’s boss had traveled sixty minutes to the Lake Victoria scene as well.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“We’ll take care of his bill,” Dorothy instructed the staff.
“You will not.” Nichols protests were unheeded by either woman. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“We’ve been here a while, but not long enough to see what vixen couldn’t enjoy your company for an hour.” Dorothy looped her arms with his. “It seems as if you tried to dress up for her.”
Her. And that was Nichol’s other small dilemma. At the Preventor base, he had a very different sort of lifestyle, which made this juxtaposition all the more confusing. Dorothy directed him to a private room where Une smiled kindly at him. His heart fluttered a little under her approval. Time had been that Nichol had to hold her world together, a privilege that he’d enjoyed until she’d chosen someone else over him.
He liked Dorothy though. Dorothy had come along even later still, doing interviews after the war had ended and soldiers were given the choice to volunteer for space duty or not.
“I would recommend their port wine seitan,” Une greeted him. “It’s very tender without being chewy.”
“Is that steak?” Nichol asked, still wondering why they hadn’t given him a menu.
Dorothy hid her smile. “You do know the Blossom is a vegan establishment?” Whatever expression crossed his face had her tinkling with laughter.
Nichol drank half of his water goblet while Une said, “I’ll have them add an extra order for you, but tell me about the progress your department has been making with the terahertz detector.”
He sputtered badly enough that Dorothy quickly found an extra cloth napkin to give him. Une watched while saying, “Trowa seemed to think that your team had uncovered something pretty remarkable.”
“Is that what he said?” Nichol leaned away from the table watching cautiously.
“What’s with that grimace?” Dorothy glanced between them. “I didn’t know you knew Trowa? Are you on the same project?”
“No,” Nichol hesitated. “He’s in new recruit training.”
“That’s across the base,” Dorothy said slowly.
“Yes, it’s quite a remarkable distance for your demonstration.” Une’s lips stayed pressed together.
“Am I in trouble?” Nichol half-whispered. “Because I asked for the transfer months ago.”
“You’re leaving?” Dorothy set her glass down.
“No, he’s not leaving. And no, you’re not in trouble. Trowa Barton has a good sense of humor.” Une glanced between them. “If we ever need to see through a person’s clothing at great distances...”
“Nichol!” Dorothy’s jaw dropped. “Why would you do that?”
“To see if we could? We were testing to see what was possible and I don’t like the guy,” Nichol shrugged. Une continued to smile which meant he’d probably survive the rest of the evening. And remembering the small victory from his teams efforts did soften the blow to his failed sex life. “How did he find out though?”
“Trowa’s a very resourceful young man,” Une said simply. Nichol looked at his hands. Of course, that advantage of Barton’s was what had unnerved a younger Nichol during his service on Barge. “Didn’t we assign both of you to new recruit training at one point? I thought that was one of your areas?”
Nichol shook his head, “Didn’t want to work... for Sally Po when I could make things right with you.”
“Was that why?” Une paused as food was set around the table.
“Besides the obvious...” Nichol clarified but found his words cut off by their blonde companion.
“I’m glad we saw you, Nichol.” Dorothy sampled her plate with exaggerated enthusiasm. “You did pick out a rather classy place. She’s a wench for ditching you like that.”
“Too much, Dorothy.” Une raised a brow. The blonde woman chewed quietly, but not for long.
“What happened to the last girl you were dating?” Dorothy pondered. “The one from Preventor accounting, was it? I seem to remember her coming by the lab while I was researching the show.” Dorothy worked for a network news program.
Nichol let his eyes scan the ceiling as if he might find her name written in the lights. Or perhaps an image of her face. He did have a pretty good recollection of the undone buttons of her uniform. He coughed.
“She wasn’t really my type,” he replied diplomatically.
^^^
The underlying trouble wasn’t that Nichol couldn’t prowl the Preventors for a boyfriend, but that he preferred to keep his relationships private. Moreso after his feelings for Une had landed him in a lot of trouble. It had been several years in their past, but it still came up on his psychological profile and in every counseling session.
“And after Une demonstrated preferential treatment for Trowa Barton, you disobeyed her instructions and went to an alternate authority?”
Nichol fought to stay reclined on the couch. Again. They were making him talk about it again. Through tight teeth he said, “Trowa Barton was at the time a Gundam spy. He had infiltrated our command. Lady Une had compromised herself...”
This Preventor shrink actually interrupted him. “Yes, that’s what we have documented from the last session. And the year before that. Word for word even.”
“Then why do you keep asking?” Nichol kicked his heel lightly against the cushion. It did not help his mood or release any of the building frustration.
“It’s a yes or no question. You disobeyed her instructions and went to an alternate authority?”
“What did I say last year?” Nichol grumbled.
^^^
“I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to leave that room feeling better.” Nichol pointed his gelato dripping spoon at Dorothy. He enjoyed her company and she could drop off the clock on a whim. It was convenient. “I feel like a prisoner failing parole, over and over again.”
Dorothy’s eyes followed his next hand gestures as if she were expected to interpret their signing. He set his hands down and stared out the window at the traffic.
“You do know that Une doesn’t even think about those days anymore, right? Well, even if she did, not nearly as much as you do,” Dorothy consoled.
“Does the Preventor evaluation make her question that split personality period in her life?” Nichol asked more slowly, genuinely curious if he were suffering such sessions alone.
“Shouldn’t you ask her that?” Dorothy ran her spoon around the empty dish. “I don’t know why the Preventors do things the way that they do.”
“They make me feel like I’m giving them the wrong answer, as if I didn’t get past that one mistake in my life.” Nichol squeezed the paper napkin.
Dorothy’s phone buzzed and she checked her message. “Looks like you haven’t called my friend yet. I told her you were going to last week...”
“I hate technology.” Nichol leaned against his hand.
She reminded, “You work in technology.”
“I hate technology at this moment.”
^^^
“Hello, are you Nichol?” A young woman in uniform knocked on the frame of his office door. Actually it was a shared office, but at that hour of the evening the only officer who stuck around was the one who got the space. And, usually, quiet.
“I am he,” Nichol turned in the seat to smile at the dark-headed agent. She had an easy smile and arms full of orientation documents. He cleared a place at the table behind him, “If you want to set that down.”
“Thanks,” she admitted, putting down the manuals and handbooks. “I don’t understand why they don’t hand out Welcome To The Preventors reusable bags while they’re at it.”
“Not in the budget.” Nichol shook his head. “You’re lucky that you got these,” he tapped the manual. “I’m still playing it by ear.”
“Haha,” she joked. “I’m Hilde Schbeiker. Day one.”
“Nichol Pushkar with a k. Yes, I know how it sounds, and don’t laugh. It’s Ukrainian.”
“Alright then.” Hilde glanced around the small space. Of course her eyes found the photograph of the Specials class 195. Nichol knew each face. Before they were broken up and scattered throughout the Alliance and OZ and White Fang and whatever faction they survived to see take over the next. Or didn’t survive.
He glanced at his watch. Typically no one stayed this late, not even Nichol. He’d definitely been too absorbed in updating the time clocking system for the civilian hourlies. He asked, “So how can I help you?”
“I’m good with machines,” Hilde said. “Did a very abbreviated service with OZ, but most of my experience is as a scrapper.” He could hear the colony accent then.
“Not around L3 was it?” He struggled to remember what other colonies he’d skimmed for fledgling reinforcements during the war. Still he’d have noticed a woman like Hilde, and she wouldn’t have been old enough to have served while OZ was in the colonies.
“I pulled some strings to get in.” She didn’t blush but sounded as if she should. “Plus, OZ couldn’t resist my raw talent. It was slim pickings...”
“Yeah.” Nichol shook his head from the conflicting loyalties. The Preventors pulled from all sorts to get staff even now. Former enemies openly sat side by side: Gundam pilots, OZ lieutenants and now runaways from the colonies.
Hilde was still talking. “Of course, he didn’t think it was a good idea. But just because he turned down the invitation didn’t mean that I couldn’t accept it. So here I am.”
“Yes, why are you here exactly?” Nichol queried.
“I’m training in as your replacement,” Hilde said at half-power, as if confused. “You did request a transfer?”
^^^
“Find some way to stay,” Dorothy preened, sipping her punch glass. “Nichol, she’s so cute.”
“In a petite pixie sort of way.” Nichol tilted his head to watch Hilde around the other guests at Une’s party for the new recruits. He changed the subject. “So this is your new place.” He glanced around the architecture of dark woods and generously large artwork of planets as seen from space. “Very grand,” he laughed.
“Oh, you think so?” Dorothy chuckled. “It does suit us after all. And you should see the bedroom.”
“I’d rather not,” Nichol declined.
“Leaving it to your imagination,” she nudged him slyly.
“No details, no imagination...” Nichol started.
“But why look directly when you can use a terahertz detector?” Trowa Barton stood in front of them. “Hello Dorothy, Nichol.”
“Yes?” Nichol raised an eyebrow.
“You’re in front of the punch.” Trowa moved between them gently bumping Nichol in what might have been an effort not to slide against Dorothy’s cleavage. They were in Dorothy’s house after all, and Une didn’t share.
Nichol would have moved away except that Dorothy had started talking to the younger man. Something about how he was there to encourage the new trainees and he would like the tour.
“Even if this one doesn’t.” He let his green eyes slide over to Nichol who looked away.
“Yeah, just watch his infiltration skills,” Nichol muttered loud enough to be heard. “You might find him still in your kitchen next week.”
Trowa laughed. Then said, “Oh, Hilde! You are here.”
“Trowa.” Hilde came closer. Then noticing Nichol, she added, “You were right about this guy. He was still in the office.”
Dorothy snuggled closer to Nichol’s arm to get a good look at the subject of their earlier conversation. Nichol had been distracted, so the conversation registered slowly. He caught a detail, “Barton sent you over?”
“Yes, it was odd since we know each other, you see,” Hilde smiled. “So we got to talking when he explained that actually you would be handling my instruction. Which is different than normal?”
“Don’t worry,” Trowa interjected. “Nichol used to train, so you won’t miss out on any of the basics.”
“I just miss out on you, you mean.” Hilde slugged his arm in a rather unladylike manner. Dorothy chuckled.
“I’m sure you’ll see me around,” Trowa reassured.
“Maybe if I work late. Is it always you two closing up the place like that?” She glanced between the two men.
“I guess so,” Nichol said when Trowa didn’t answer.
^^^
“How was that?” The weight across his back wasn’t uncomfortable, yet.
“I’m definitely not complaining.” Nichol lifted his head from the sweat-stained pillow. Fingers pressed on his face, in his mouth and then he closed his eyes. Things were always a little complicated between then and sleep.
When he woke up he was alone in the hotel room. He saw the card with an apology (work) and a phone number (anytime). Nichol dropped it into the trash. Later, he would delete his online account.
“Celebrating a transfer,” he said to himself and closed the door behind him.
^^^
“So, I have to ask.” Hilde put down her pencil from making notes in the Reconstruction of Taurus manual. The office cleared out around 17:00 and then they set up for a few hours of intense knowledge sharing. She knew her nuts and bolts which made the process more enjoyable than Nichol had expected.
Nichol stopped prepping the reports to automatically run at midnight .“Now’s the time to ask.”
“Every one of the project managers here has a picture of a significant other, or two,” she added, pointing her thumb at Nelson’s snapshot with twins. “But then I notice you’ve got them.”
Nichol found his smile came easier than he thought it would. “And that’s why I wouldn’t normally want a woman in this office. Too smart. Too nosy. Fortunately, Une spends little time down here and expects us to put on formal uniforms when going up to report...”
“Are you going to tell me?” she asked.
“Barlow, Johnson, Merica, Taylor, Jeter and Sanchez. Me. Walker.”
“Graduating class?”
“Yes,” he answered. “But this is just before I left for space. Walker had actually earned top honors, but chose to take a leadership position on Corsica. So I got the Barge mission.”
Hilde didn’t ask about Barge. If she had a history with Barton or served in OZ, she knew already. He had also noted she dropped her eyes at the mention of Jacob’s assignment.
“This can’t be your only picture,” Hilde insisted.
“We were a bunch of serious kids. That’s how you got into the program. And there was always later,” he repeated. “Later.”
“Did any of them make it?”
“Just me.”
^^^
It would have made more sense if the Preventor shrink asked Nichol about the Specials. Then he could explain how he hadn’t given leaving a second thought. He would be taking the risks. He was going to space. He had the metal can in his future. Jacob Walker would babysit a mobile suit and try not to reduce his job description to plays with giant robots.
A smart shrink would say, “Did you love him?” Because Nichol wouldn’t be able to say any more after that point. A proper answer would have taken pages to explain.
Even for a yes or no question.
^^^
“I’m not here to help you pack,” Dorothy clarified. “I’m only here for moral support and to unpack things when you decide to stay.”
“Come on in,” Nichol waved her inside his apartment. The place was largely anonymous, as he liked it. The past should be private and even a snapshot of his graduating class had generated uncomfortable questions.
“And I should know that Une would take you back in a heartbeat,” she added for good measure.
“Then what would happen to Hilde?” Nichol shook his head. “No, I’ll take the next assignment and haunt some other Preventor hallways.”
“Well, maybe you’ll finally find some warm body when you move.” Dorothy sat on the one clear space on his couch as she surveyed the explosion of boxes, packing tape and bubble wrap around the room. “Which neatly explains why you were at Lake Victoria.”
“Pardon?” Nichol lifted a coaster and paused from straining his memory to find the rest of the set.
“That’s how Trowa explained it to me anyway. You only dated people around where you wanted to go...”
“That’s not it at all...” Nichol fumed. “And how does he think he knows anything about me?”
“No?” Dorothy lifted her arms to leisurely settle along the back of the couch. “He has another theory that you don’t like to give out your real name. But it took a lot of alcohol to pry that one out of him. A lot.”
“You went drinking with him?” Nichol reached up to turn on the ceiling fan. The room seemed rather claustrophobic.
“And Hilde, sort of an our generation sort of thing--caught between most former-OZ and the new kids. Wufei refused though... surprise.”
Nichol considered her for a moment. Of course when he left she would hang out with other people. Dorothy couldn’t be expected to mope around without someone nearby to hear her clever jokes.
“He’s somewhat of an expert on you,” Dorothy went on.
You don’t like to give out your real name... Nichol realized the words she’d used before. Barton knew. Or suspected something close to the truth.
“And Hilde’s somewhat of an expert on Trowa. Did you know he used to be in the circus?”
“Yes,” Nichol snapped, but Dorothy only reacted by shaking her head. He set the coaster down and went into the kitchen to break a few dishes so he didn’t have to pack them.
^^^
He sent Hilde home. It was Friday and even Nichol didn’t want to stay late. But he left her walking toward the near exit and he turned to cross the grounds toward the classrooms. So Trowa Barton stayed late sometimes. He’d find out.
Partway up the sidewalk, Nichol hesitated. He was moving. Let Barton wonder and leave things alone. Any confrontation would needlessly encourage Barton to explore further. The man was like that. He turned and walked away.
“So you changed your mind, I see.”
Nichol stopped. Well, he’d been spotted anyway. “What are you still doing here, Barton?” he called over. Trowa stood in the doorway balancing the weight of the door with his foot and a handful of electronic gizmos in his arms. Nichol didn’t readily recognize any of them at the distance.
“I have to grade these,” Trowa said as he got closer. “The kids were supposed to make better surveillance devices, but I’d settle for functioning with this class.”
“Can’t you just test these here?” Nichol inquired.
“Can’t,” Trowa shrugged. “It’s Friday. And you’ve already left your office.”
What had Une said? “Trowa’s a very resourceful young man.” And Dorothy? “He’s somewhat of an expert on you.”
“How long have you used the new kids as a means to spy on me?” Nichol sighed.
“Years?” Trowa admitted. “It’s rather more entertaining than testing it out on the classrooms next door. And I can give points for the distance as well as clarity,” he paused. “I just never suspected you’d turn around and do the same thing to me.”
“That test came down to a vote.” Nichol raised a finger.
“But I recall you were the one to put my name on the list,” Trowa smiled.
Nichol had to admit, “The idea to use you was rather popular once I put the notion in their heads.”
“I wonder why.”
“Don’t fish for compliments,” Nichol grumbled.
The public transportation vehicles were parked in the faculty lot so Nichol kept pace with Trowa on their way out of the base. Trowa bent his elbow at a strange angle while reaching for his keys, and Nichol curiously found himself helping catch the odds and ends that the new Preventors tried to pass off as covert devices.
“Thanks,” Trowa didn’t look at him.
Nichol examined the piece of equipment in his hands and said, “You’re not doing something right if this is what they’re coming up with.”
“We had an excellent mechanical basics trainer at one time.” Trowa bent into the car to relieve his arms of their burdens. Standing upright again he did meet Nichol’s look while collecting the rest of the projects. “He keeps running away from what he’s good at, though.”
“Don’t shrug your deficiencies on me,” Nichol scowled.
“We get by.” Trowa didn’t back down. Nichol noticed the younger man seemed a little pale under his typically tanned complexion.
“Don’t let Dorothy take you drinking mid-week if you’re going to hold your liquor so badly,” Nichol advised. “She’ll learn your schedule if you make her.” It felt strange giving Trowa his blessing to be friends with Dorothy, but it seemed right.
“Now you give me advice,” Trowa muttered with a surly attitude.
“That...” Nichol laughed but couldn’t hold a grin. “That. You only show that side of you to me, which is why everyone else thinks you’re the better half of this feud.”
“Stop making me regret...” Trowa started.
“Yeah, whatever,” Nichol scoffed. He glanced at the public cars and found his pass card in his wallet. “Soldiers get to bear more than a few of those. Or don’t your psychological sessions work either?”
Trowa stayed where he stood, but Nichol got into the public car. He let out a breath and felt... of all things, ready to leave.