Zechs' apartment is, to say the very least, unexpected. From the hooks by the front door hung black satin pointe shoes, dangling by matching black ribbons. A large cage containing two very pretty finches by the window, and against the other wall, the large upright piano, lid still open to reveal the strings and hammers of a real working instrument... something that even the Darlians bothered with, though they forced her to take lessons. She had worked on an expensive keyboard complete with over 500 different tones, but there was something about a real piano with real working parts not involved the digital age that just made her feel good.
"Wow," she whispers, a bit stunned. "You dance?" She points to the shoes, and then stops herself, saying, "Wait, no, never mind, with those moves back in the gym, this makes perfect sense." She nods firmly, as if to convince herself. She nodded to the piano. "I play too, though I learned on keyboard. I much prefer the feel of a real thing like that." Her fingers itch at the very idea of it.
Then she shakes herself. "You really mean it? About the car?" She closes the door and glomps him in a warm hug. "I will love you forever. I will have to set a date as well... sadly, the Foreign Vice Minister does not get her own birthday off unless she asks nicely. I think I should tell them where I plan to go, what I plan to do and who I plan to spent my time with... I would do it just to see their jaws hit the floor." She laughs dryly.
'I do mean it about the car, and I'd love to be there if you did tell them that,' Zechs replies, hanging up his jacket and ducking into the bedroom to change, 'but Une might have some definite Words to say on the matter.' The sound is muffled as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. 'After all, I'm technically still dead, as far as the world is concerned.'
He emerges wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey sweatpants, and promptly heads for the kitchen. Removing a bag of flour from the freezer, he sets it on the counter and goes about collecting the various ingredients and utensils of cookie preparation, turning on the oven to preheat while he's at it.
'Actually, the cookies are still in here.' He points to the bag of flour, then begins adding eggs, vanilla, and white and brown sugar to a glass bowl. 'They'll only take about twenty minutes from start to finish, though. It's a simple, quick process.'
He continues to talk as he prepares the dough; he doesn't really need a recipe for this, after all.
'You'd have been too young to remember, but when we were children, mother and father decided that I should take dancing before I started fencing.' He chuckles and fishes a bag of chocolate chips out of a cabinet, then one of toffee pieces. 'I suppose I should have hated it, but it was... soothing in a way. It's something familiar, too, so I've started back again.' Zechs arches an eyebrow at her. 'I didn't know you played. Come over some time when it's not so late and you can have a go at the piano. I think the neighbors would have something definite to say at this hour.'
He drops the cookie dough onto a tray and slides it into the oven, setting the microwave timer before heading into the living room.
'Can I get you some tea or anything? Coffee, cocoa?'
Relena watches her brother's hands prepare the food in an ease only associated with chefs born with a chopping blade attached to their fists. She remembers past times spent in the Darlian's kitchen, and the old cook that had resided there. The woman had been wrinkled and somewhat sharp about her words, but Relena had grown to like her because she'd been one of the few and the first to scold the girl when she did wrong. For all of Darlian's tender care, the couple did not know how to discipline. It was wonder, then, why she'd had any manners at all.
She shook herself. How strange was it that she felt at home with him this way, so close, as if they'd never been separated? How strange was it that watching her brother be a brother, made her feel so utterly homesick simply because she'd finally found the place that was her home in the first place? Relena now understood Zechs' hurt toward Darlian. The comfort of a rich adopted father and father was nothing in comparison to the truth of her bigger brother, who shared her blood and far better understood her faults.
"No, I don't remember your dancing lessons. I'm sorry," she smiles warmly and shrugs. "But I can understand it." She pauses, feeling thoughtful now, more subdued. "I would like that, playing the piano with you." Soft smile. "Perhaps later."
She hears the chirp of the finches and nods in their direction "What are their names? They're beautiful."
She sits down, and puts her hand in her cheek. She's getting tired. It's been a long, long day. "Coffee," she murmurs.
Zechs nods and heads back into the kitchen, grinding coffee beans and loading them into his coffee maker. Then he returns to his sister.
'Andromeda and Josephine,' he replies with a smile. 'They're not usually awake at this time of day, but they like company.' Zechs settles next to her on the sofa and looks at the pair of birds in their flight cage. 'Treize loved birds, and I grew to like them as well. I'm not sure that I could deal with anything else, really. I'm don't have the temperament for it.'
He looks up when the coffee maker signals that it's finished, and hurriedly prepares a tray with two cups, a creamer and sugar bowl, and two elegant silver spoons, stamped with a crest that both of them know, even if they haven't actually lived under it for a while. He carries it into the living room and pours a cup for Relena.
'I'll let you doctor it to your liking,' he says with a smile. 'I never did hold with the whole "one lump or two" question. Too easy to mess things up.'
"The Darlians didn't have pets. I remember wanting this stray dog once that I'd found on the way back from classes... they wouldn't let me have him because they said he would distract me from my learning." She shook her head, refusing to go down those thoughts. It didn't end well. "I have a pufferfish now. It's not a dog, but he acts like one." She grins. "His name is Marcus. You should stop my place sometime, I'll introduce you. Assuming we don't end up in the Bar again."
Chuckling wryly, she takes a spoon and adds not one, not two, but three spoonfuls of sugar, and some creme. She sips thankfully, needing the coffee now, with her body shutting down again, and studies the spoon still in her hands. She puts the cup back down and stares.
"Is this...?"
It is.
Relena had only ever known her family through history books and second hand stories, and the seal on the spoon was a Peacecraft seal, it's silver no doubt quite old and carefully kept in good condition. She watched her own shocked expression deformed on the concave miror. Had her mother and father used this spoon? What kind of story did this piece of silverwear hold, that Relena so desperately wanted to know?
She is sure that Zechs would not use these spoons on a regular basis. It meant he'd put them out for her, for this. When she looks at him, her vision is a little blurry. "I've never..." She isn't sure how to finish.
Zechs lets her have a moment to herself before he nods, stirring his own coffee.
'Not much survived, after they burned the palace. After the ones who did it had left, I went to see if anyone had survived. I didn't find survivors, but I did find some of the silver. The spoons are from mother's favourite tea service. In the ensuing years, I managed to keep them hidden from everyone. I couldn't risk having them taken away.'
He looks at the spoon he holds; his hands are slender but still long and strong, and the little bit of silver looks even smaller, held by fingers that still bear a combat pilot's calluses. 'I have some other pieces that I use when I have company. To simply keep them in a treated box and never touch them would... dishonour the memory of those who had used them. But mother's spoons are only for the most special occasions.' Zechs smiles wistfully. 'You used to be so fascinated with them. Mother would put you in her lap and you'd play with one for hours, looking at your reflection, banging it against the table...'
He's saved from another crying fit by the beeping of the microwave timer. Zechs sets his cup down and hurries into the kitchen, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand as he goes.
'I'd love to meet your fish,' he says, trying to find more stable ground as he removes the tray from the oven. 'I keep contemplating getting a fish for my new office. I had to buy a bigger cactus, to handle the paperwork...'
It probably makes no sense. Zechs turns the oven off, then takes a spatula and begins transferring his latest baking endeavour to a plate.
'I like watching fish,' he explains. 'I'm second-in-command of Preventer, now, and the transition has been a bit stressful. Fish calm me down, for some reason.'
He carries the plate into the living room and offers it to her.
The silver spoon intrigues her even more as she learns of her history with it, and though the moment is sad, it is not without a sense of relief. It's true that she could not remember her mother and father the way Zechs could, and it's true she had only bothered to understand her brother until this night... but that makes it all the more precious. Finally, after a lifetime of separation, Relena had her spoon back. The thought made her smile, if still shaken.
As Zechs leaves for the kitchen, she wipes her own eyes, and takes deep breaths to calm herself. They keep this up, and she'll be a master of meditation and breathing techniques.
When he comes back with cookies, she steals one and promptly melts at the explosion of heaven inside in her mouth. Dear god. Chocolate chip and toffee, what a combination. "This is good!" She's so excited that she speaks with a mouthful of food, and when she discovers this, the Lady in her forces herself to giggle and swallow it down.
She nods. "Fish are very relaxing, and some have a great personality... and they're also easier to take care off, assuming they don't have a habit of jumping out." She suddenly remembers what he said before. "You have a new office?" She grins. "A bigger office?"
"We should go buy the fish together, then, and I'll help you get a proper collection."
She devours the rest of the cookie and grabs another.
Zechs grins. 'I'm glad that you like them,' he says, nibbling on one himself. 'They're my favoutites, but I don't make them all too often because then I'd actually eat them.' He takes a sip of his coffee.
'And I would love it, if you could help me select a fish. It is indeed a bigger office, so some company wouldn't go amiss.'
She takes from the plate and frowns thoughtfully as she chews. "Frustrating," she finally answers after a moment, and shrugs. "The people want to depend upon Preventer to prevent more war, but they don't want it to be another Alliance. They give Lady Une the power over the world's largest military force, and then they give her men swiss army knives in replacement of swords. I have learned quite a bit since the Eve Wars, Zechs... Heero and the others taught me a lot about the flaws a world solely based on total pacifism. I don't believe that taking all the guns away is the answer anymore, but I don't believe that giving them back their weapons is the answer, either. The people need a balance, brother."
She snorts. "Not that they'll listen to a word I tell them. They do not take me seriously any more. I fear I've fallen into nothing but a pretty little symbol. It's my age. They say that I'm far too young to understand politics, and I'm so afraid I'll pull another Romefeller that let them get away with it."
She falls silent and takes another cookie. It makes her feel better. "Not that I don't enjoy the dance," she admits. "I feel most comfortable when I can strip a man down to his bones before the public during a press conference. It makes me feel alive." She shrugs again, a roll of her shoulders, her smile endearing. "Perhaps a bit like you and your wings, eh? I should have been the first born, I think."
'Preventer isn't technically military. We're more of an intelligence organisation than anything. But you're right, it's the closest that's been left to an army and if trouble arises, I don't doubt that it'll fall to us to handle it. We're supposed to prevent war through peaceful means if possible, and barring that by bringing down select... problems. We act as bodyguards for high-risk dignitaries, so that no one assassinates them and starts another conflict with that action. But the time is going to come when that's not going to be enough, and someone will build an army, and Preventer is going to have to do what they can. Not everyone is a soldier, either. It's a civilian organisation, and many of our agents are just that. Civilians doing a job. Certainly everyone's been given basic firearms training and the like, but an army we are not, neither in number nor in skill.'
Zechs understands what she means, however, about feeling alive, and he changes the topic back to that.
'Like my wings. I've always felt at my best when I've been flying. It's really where I belong, always has been.' He promised Une not to mention Tallgeese, and he knows that Relena's probably aware of the fact that he's flying again. He wouldn't have the keys with him, otherwise. So, he speaks in the past tense, knowing his sister is capable and probably going to translate to the present.
'You strip them down during a press conference, and I'd strip them down on the battlefield. When they were faced with me, whatever false pretenses they'd had about their abilities drained away along with their bravado. Fighting made me feel alive... I think that was one of the reasons I pursued Heero so diligently. He wasn't afraid to face me, and that made the fight a glorious challenge.'
He sits back and chews on a cookie reflectively, then sighs.
'Relena, being the first-born truly wouldn't matter in his instance. I'm only 22, still young enough that were I another man, people likely wouldn't give a second thought to what I had to say. The world in general would probably be aghast if they knew Preventer was run entirely by a young man and a young woman not even halfway into their twenties. The only reason I'm respected by those who know I'm still alive is that I show a genuine understanding that surpasses my years.'
He looks at his sister and takes a sip of his coffee.
'You have to do the same thing, Relena. Show them definitively that the seventeen year old girl they like to belittle knows more about politics than a seasoned politician of fifty. Don't let them wave you around like some banner when they need your face. Make them take you seriously, and make them listen.'
He'd love to give some of her associates a good talking to, were he alive.
"You're right, of course. I just..." She shrugs and runs a hand through her hair, briefly fingering the braids at the back. "I've heard some rampant idolizers say that I was fearless during the war, but that was just carelessness and stupidity. I was lucky to get here, brother." She pauses, thoughfully. "And I guess that with the things I've learned since then, I have lost my carelessness, and now I worry about things I've never worried before." She takes a drink of her coffee and smiles wryly. Don't worry, I'll get them back. I might be a coward, but I do respect my big brother's advice. I think it's time I showed them the horns under my halo."
And then, suddenly, her eyes become wide and she curses. "Shit! I left my briefcase at the Bar!" She bit her thumbnail and cursed again. "Damnit! Well. I have copies..."
She takes yet another cookie, and mmms when the taste washes over her. "God, these are good. They might just be the best cookies I've ever had, and believe me when I say that I've eaten a lot of cookies. I tend to be a whore for anything sweet, it's a wonder why I'm not a balloon."
'Always present your best face to the cameras. Off the cameras, make sure people know who you really are.'
Zechs takes a sip of his coffee and nibbles at another cookie.
'I'm glad that you like them. Just let me know whenever you want any. I do pastries, too. Everything, really. I had Une and Mariemaia over for dinner, a few days ago.' He grins. 'And don't worry about your things. The bar will probably hold onto them for you.'
He stretches, looking utterly domestic in his t-shirt, sweatpants, and bare feet.
'And good metabolisms seem to run in our family. So long as you exercise, I shouldn't worry about things too much.'
Zechs' apartment is, to say the very least, unexpected. From the hooks by the front door hung black satin pointe shoes, dangling by matching black ribbons. A large cage containing two very pretty finches by the window, and against the other wall, the large upright piano, lid still open to reveal the strings and hammers of a real working instrument... something that even the Darlians bothered with, though they forced her to take lessons. She had worked on an expensive keyboard complete with over 500 different tones, but there was something about a real piano with real working parts not involved the digital age that just made her feel good.
"Wow," she whispers, a bit stunned. "You dance?" She points to the shoes, and then stops herself, saying, "Wait, no, never mind, with those moves back in the gym, this makes perfect sense." She nods firmly, as if to convince herself. She nodded to the piano. "I play too, though I learned on keyboard. I much prefer the feel of a real thing like that." Her fingers itch at the very idea of it.
Then she shakes herself. "You really mean it? About the car?" She closes the door and glomps him in a warm hug. "I will love you forever. I will have to set a date as well... sadly, the Foreign Vice Minister does not get her own birthday off unless she asks nicely. I think I should tell them where I plan to go, what I plan to do and who I plan to spent my time with... I would do it just to see their jaws hit the floor." She laughs dryly.
"So where are the cookies?"
Reply
He emerges wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey sweatpants, and promptly heads for the kitchen. Removing a bag of flour from the freezer, he sets it on the counter and goes about collecting the various ingredients and utensils of cookie preparation, turning on the oven to preheat while he's at it.
'Actually, the cookies are still in here.' He points to the bag of flour, then begins adding eggs, vanilla, and white and brown sugar to a glass bowl. 'They'll only take about twenty minutes from start to finish, though. It's a simple, quick process.'
He continues to talk as he prepares the dough; he doesn't really need a recipe for this, after all.
'You'd have been too young to remember, but when we were children, mother and father decided that I should take dancing before I started fencing.' He chuckles and fishes a bag of chocolate chips out of a cabinet, then one of toffee pieces. 'I suppose I should have hated it, but it was... soothing in a way. It's something familiar, too, so I've started back again.' Zechs arches an eyebrow at her. 'I didn't know you played. Come over some time when it's not so late and you can have a go at the piano. I think the neighbors would have something definite to say at this hour.'
He drops the cookie dough onto a tray and slides it into the oven, setting the microwave timer before heading into the living room.
'Can I get you some tea or anything? Coffee, cocoa?'
Reply
She shook herself. How strange was it that she felt at home with him this way, so close, as if they'd never been separated? How strange was it that watching her brother be a brother, made her feel so utterly homesick simply because she'd finally found the place that was her home in the first place? Relena now understood Zechs' hurt toward Darlian. The comfort of a rich adopted father and father was nothing in comparison to the truth of her bigger brother, who shared her blood and far better understood her faults.
"No, I don't remember your dancing lessons. I'm sorry," she smiles warmly and shrugs. "But I can understand it." She pauses, feeling thoughtful now, more subdued. "I would like that, playing the piano with you." Soft smile. "Perhaps later."
She hears the chirp of the finches and nods in their direction "What are their names? They're beautiful."
She sits down, and puts her hand in her cheek. She's getting tired. It's been a long, long day. "Coffee," she murmurs.
Reply
'Andromeda and Josephine,' he replies with a smile. 'They're not usually awake at this time of day, but they like company.' Zechs settles next to her on the sofa and looks at the pair of birds in their flight cage. 'Treize loved birds, and I grew to like them as well. I'm not sure that I could deal with anything else, really. I'm don't have the temperament for it.'
He looks up when the coffee maker signals that it's finished, and hurriedly prepares a tray with two cups, a creamer and sugar bowl, and two elegant silver spoons, stamped with a crest that both of them know, even if they haven't actually lived under it for a while. He carries it into the living room and pours a cup for Relena.
'I'll let you doctor it to your liking,' he says with a smile. 'I never did hold with the whole "one lump or two" question. Too easy to mess things up.'
Reply
Chuckling wryly, she takes a spoon and adds not one, not two, but three spoonfuls of sugar, and some creme. She sips thankfully, needing the coffee now, with her body shutting down again, and studies the spoon still in her hands. She puts the cup back down and stares.
"Is this...?"
It is.
Relena had only ever known her family through history books and second hand stories, and the seal on the spoon was a Peacecraft seal, it's silver no doubt quite old and carefully kept in good condition. She watched her own shocked expression deformed on the concave miror. Had her mother and father used this spoon? What kind of story did this piece of silverwear hold, that Relena so desperately wanted to know?
She is sure that Zechs would not use these spoons on a regular basis. It meant he'd put them out for her, for this. When she looks at him, her vision is a little blurry. "I've never..." She isn't sure how to finish.
Reply
'Not much survived, after they burned the palace. After the ones who did it had left, I went to see if anyone had survived. I didn't find survivors, but I did find some of the silver. The spoons are from mother's favourite tea service. In the ensuing years, I managed to keep them hidden from everyone. I couldn't risk having them taken away.'
He looks at the spoon he holds; his hands are slender but still long and strong, and the little bit of silver looks even smaller, held by fingers that still bear a combat pilot's calluses.
'I have some other pieces that I use when I have company. To simply keep them in a treated box and never touch them would... dishonour the memory of those who had used them. But mother's spoons are only for the most special occasions.' Zechs smiles wistfully. 'You used to be so fascinated with them. Mother would put you in her lap and you'd play with one for hours, looking at your reflection, banging it against the table...'
He's saved from another crying fit by the beeping of the microwave timer. Zechs sets his cup down and hurries into the kitchen, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand as he goes.
'I'd love to meet your fish,' he says, trying to find more stable ground as he removes the tray from the oven. 'I keep contemplating getting a fish for my new office. I had to buy a bigger cactus, to handle the paperwork...'
It probably makes no sense. Zechs turns the oven off, then takes a spatula and begins transferring his latest baking endeavour to a plate.
'I like watching fish,' he explains. 'I'm second-in-command of Preventer, now, and the transition has been a bit stressful. Fish calm me down, for some reason.'
He carries the plate into the living room and offers it to her.
'As promised.'
Reply
As Zechs leaves for the kitchen, she wipes her own eyes, and takes deep breaths to calm herself. They keep this up, and she'll be a master of meditation and breathing techniques.
When he comes back with cookies, she steals one and promptly melts at the explosion of heaven inside in her mouth. Dear god. Chocolate chip and toffee, what a combination. "This is good!" She's so excited that she speaks with a mouthful of food, and when she discovers this, the Lady in her forces herself to giggle and swallow it down.
She nods. "Fish are very relaxing, and some have a great personality... and they're also easier to take care off, assuming they don't have a habit of jumping out." She suddenly remembers what he said before. "You have a new office?" She grins. "A bigger office?"
"We should go buy the fish together, then, and I'll help you get a proper collection."
She devours the rest of the cookie and grabs another.
Reply
'And I would love it, if you could help me select a fish. It is indeed a bigger office, so some company wouldn't go amiss.'
He pushes the plate closer to her.
'How has work been for you?'
Reply
She snorts. "Not that they'll listen to a word I tell them. They do not take me seriously any more. I fear I've fallen into nothing but a pretty little symbol. It's my age. They say that I'm far too young to understand politics, and I'm so afraid I'll pull another Romefeller that let them get away with it."
She falls silent and takes another cookie. It makes her feel better. "Not that I don't enjoy the dance," she admits. "I feel most comfortable when I can strip a man down to his bones before the public during a press conference. It makes me feel alive." She shrugs again, a roll of her shoulders, her smile endearing. "Perhaps a bit like you and your wings, eh? I should have been the first born, I think."
Reply
Zechs understands what she means, however, about feeling alive, and he changes the topic back to that.
'Like my wings. I've always felt at my best when I've been flying. It's really where I belong, always has been.' He promised Une not to mention Tallgeese, and he knows that Relena's probably aware of the fact that he's flying again. He wouldn't have the keys with him, otherwise. So, he speaks in the past tense, knowing his sister is capable and probably going to translate to the present.
'You strip them down during a press conference, and I'd strip them down on the battlefield. When they were faced with me, whatever false pretenses they'd had about their abilities drained away along with their bravado. Fighting made me feel alive... I think that was one of the reasons I pursued Heero so diligently. He wasn't afraid to face me, and that made the fight a glorious challenge.'
He sits back and chews on a cookie reflectively, then sighs.
'Relena, being the first-born truly wouldn't matter in his instance. I'm only 22, still young enough that were I another man, people likely wouldn't give a second thought to what I had to say. The world in general would probably be aghast if they knew Preventer was run entirely by a young man and a young woman not even halfway into their twenties. The only reason I'm respected by those who know I'm still alive is that I show a genuine understanding that surpasses my years.'
He looks at his sister and takes a sip of his coffee.
'You have to do the same thing, Relena. Show them definitively that the seventeen year old girl they like to belittle knows more about politics than a seasoned politician of fifty. Don't let them wave you around like some banner when they need your face. Make them take you seriously, and make them listen.'
He'd love to give some of her associates a good talking to, were he alive.
Reply
And then, suddenly, her eyes become wide and she curses. "Shit! I left my briefcase at the Bar!" She bit her thumbnail and cursed again. "Damnit! Well. I have copies..."
She takes yet another cookie, and mmms when the taste washes over her. "God, these are good. They might just be the best cookies I've ever had, and believe me when I say that I've eaten a lot of cookies. I tend to be a whore for anything sweet, it's a wonder why I'm not a balloon."
Reply
Zechs takes a sip of his coffee and nibbles at another cookie.
'I'm glad that you like them. Just let me know whenever you want any. I do pastries, too. Everything, really. I had Une and Mariemaia over for dinner, a few days ago.' He grins. 'And don't worry about your things. The bar will probably hold onto them for you.'
He stretches, looking utterly domestic in his t-shirt, sweatpants, and bare feet.
'And good metabolisms seem to run in our family. So long as you exercise, I shouldn't worry about things too much.'
Reply
Leave a comment