("What Would Happen" by Meredith Brooks)
fic by Aoe

What Would Happen...

Another stupid party.

One would think she'd get tired of them after a while, but no, every damn week, practically, there's another... stupid... party.


Most of the regular guests have long since learned not to bother me with small talk. I do not mingle. I used to hover watchfully at her side, like a particularly devoted guard dog, but I've come to realize she doesn't need me for that.

After all, there is peace now. She doesn't need an assassin-deterrent when no one has tried to kill her for years.

I wonder briefly why she keeps me around at all, useless as I am these days.

Oh yes. I forgot.

She loves me.


I suppose I could have done worse. I certainly never want for anything. It's so strange, this life I've fallen into, full of servants and soft-spoken dignitaries. I am perpetually out of place among the Waterford crystal and designer gowns. I can't even give the waistcoat and cravat bedecked gentlemen an exhilirating fencing match, because three years of peace has done surprisingly little to dull the razor edge of my reflexes. It is just as hard today to stop short of the terminal thrust as it was all those years ago, when that first pompous ass scolded me for my poor form in insulting her...

Sigh again. Sip my drink. Fight back a grimace.

I am attempting to cultivate a taste for brandy. I have developed a theory that brandy was Treize's ultimate secret, the thing that allowed someone who was in his soul a warrior to fit in with these pampered, preening idiots.

At the very least I can perhaps become an alcoholic and cease to care about any of it.

My empty role as Relena Peacecraft's consort.

My total lack of marketable skills that might give my life some purpose.

My ever more mechanical nighttime activities with my wife.

Sigh, yet again. Finish my drink.

Contemplate another.

What the hell.

I am returning from the bar, not really watching where I'm going, when I bump into him.

Spill my drink down his back... and all over his long chestnut braid.

He spins, affronted.

I had forgotten the exact shade of his eyes.

A blue-violet bolt of lightning hits me between my own.

Electricity... eye to eye...

His indignation is lost in a broad grin. He laughs, probably at my stunned expression, and asks, "Hey, haven't we met before?"

I cannot find the voice to answer, but then, he's used to that.

Hey, don't I know you?
I can't speak.

That initial jolt has left me floating in a blurred, echoing void. All my careful training in being aware of my surroundings flies right out the window. There is only myself... and him.

Stripped my senses... on the spot...

I don't like it. I feel trapped. I feel like I'm in a sensory deprivation tank and he's my only lifeline, my only connection to reality. I resent that about him.

I always have.

But it was never this bad. Never this intense, this... feeling I get around him.

It's a good thing we were never enemies.

But I've never felt so thoroughly overwhelmed by him.

It's been years.

Don't these things fade?

Like it did with Relena?

I don't understand...

I've never been defenseless
I can't even make sense of this

He's smiling, laughing, talking... He's never quite still in a non-combat situation.

His endless chatter always irritated and fascinated me. How can he possibly find so much to talk about? I know, from hours of listening, that most of it is meaningless babble, but...

But he just keeps talking.

To me.

Everyone else gave up on that a long time ago.

Why does he keep trying?

I can't even follow his words right now, though. Still in shock...

You speak and I don't hear a word...

And I find myself instead fascinated by the movement of his mouth... those full, soft, tempting lips...

It's been so long since I saw him...

He's still so beautiful.

He looks just as he has in my memories... in my dreams.

He probably never thought about... about me.

But part of me always wanted... and I wonder what he would do if I...

What would happen if we kissed?
Would your tongue slip past my lips?
Would you run away?
Would you stay?
Or would I melt into you?
Mouth to mouth... lust to lust...
Spontaneous~ly combust...

He frowns suddenly and I realize I am swaying slightly. The alcohol has hit my bloodstream and only adds to my confusion, disorientation...

No. That's just an excuse. I haven't had enough yet to make me dizzy.

It's him.

The room is spinning... out of control...

He shakes a finger at me and scolds, "Hee-chan, I think you've had a little too much to drink! Maybe some fresh air will clear your head." He waves toward the darkened balcony, eyes sparkling at my apparent inebriation.

But he knows.

Somehow, he saw it in my eyes... and now I can see it in his. An answering heat.

He's right, though. I shouldn't act this way in public.

I follow him to the door, where he glances back, his face still easily cheerful, although his eyes are warm and full of shadows, betraying his awareness...

His hand brushes against mine as I step past him to the railing.

It could almost have been accidental.

You act like you didn't notice
Brushed my hand...

He jumps up to sit on the wide stone railing, swinging his legs. He's wearing a tuxedo, black of course, and his childish pose and actions are incongruous. I lay my palms flat against the cold stone... and feel my eyes drawn to the single piece of jewelry thus clearly displayed. I am trying to remind myself...

Such a simple little thing, it is.

A modified slave collar. Property of...

It was my choice. I said yes.

Forsaking all others...

It has never been an issue.

Forbidden fruit... ring on my finger...

He's seen it now, too. His kicking stops, his slender legs hanging still in the moonlight.

He doesn't wear the priest's tunic anymore. Hasn't for years. But there has always been that core of integrity within him.

He has always known what is right from what is wrong so much better than I...

But he has done just as many wrong things.

He licks his lips, staring at the golden band... then looks at me.

I know what he's pondering.

Should I let him decide to seduce me, or should I just...

You're such a moral, moral man
Would you throw it away, no question?
Will I pretend I'm innocent?

I am trapped by his eyes again. It's a good thing breathing is an involuntary action.

He is silent, now, but we are communicating quite well. Better, perhaps, than we ever did.

His hand twitches slightly towards mine, and I know he's thinking the same thing I am... wondering...

What would happen if we kissed?
Would your tongue slip past my lips?
Would you run away?
Would you stay?
Or would I melt into you?
Mouth to mouth... lust to lust...
Spontaneous~ly combust...
What would happen if we kissed?

Without discussing it, we have left the balcony to walk through the moonlit gardens. We're too close together, really, and our hips bump, our hands brush, with nearly every step.

He grows tired of pretense, and finally just takes my hand in his.

I stop, and turn to face him.

Damn. He's gotten just a few inches taller than me.

We're gazing into each other's eyes, and I realize again the path we're walking down, and I know it's wrong...

He has that confident little smirk on his face.

I'm falling all over again.

I struggle with myself again...
Quickly the walls are crumbling...
Don't know if I can turn away...

I'm married.

I should stop now.

I should leave him here, beautiful and warm in the cool moonlight...

I'm falling.

All over again.

He takes that last half step closer, sealing my fate.

I'm falling.

He touches my cheek, and I whisper, "Catch me... "

What would happen if we kissed?

His lips are so soft against mine... like satin...

Would your tongue slip past my lips?

He is just as aggressive as I have imagined, and I eagerly part my lips for him, invading even as I am invaded...

Would you run away?
Would you stay?

I wonder briefly what the morning will bring. He's never been above running and hiding, and the situation will certainly warrant it...

Right now all I want is to be with him forever, but who's to say rationality won't change my mind as well?

Or would I melt into you?

He's managed to get my pants unzipped now, though, and all thoughts of tomorrow are drowned by an onslaught of desire as he touches me so gently... How can he know me so well?

Forget tomorrow. Forget everything but right now... and his body against mine...

Mouth to mouth... if we kissed...

I can feel his arousal through the flimsy dress pants, burning against my thigh. It's so easy to undo the buttons and work my own hand inside...

Our mouths are locked together with almost bruising force, lips already swollen and tongues twining together almost desperately... Like we are trying to consume each other...

Would your tongue slip past my lips?

I don't know how we both ended up naked.

He finally pulls his mouth away from mine, and the blue violet eyes are hazy with longing, heavy-lidded, pupils dilated...

Would you run away?

So... beautiful...

Nothing could ever be more right than to arch my back from the dew-wet grass, raising my hips to let him push inside me...

Would you stay?

The sensation of his entry alone is nearly enough to send me over the edge...

I am lost in searing white ecstasy and he is calling my name as he moves within me...

Or would I melt into you?
Mouth to mouth...

This... is not what I expected to happen tonight...

"What did you expect, Heero?" he asks, his voice low and husky, letting me know I have inadvertently spoken aloud.

Not a mistake I generally make.

"Well... I wasn't expecting to see you," I reply slowly as he gently brushes the tufted end of his braid across the quivering muscles of my chest.

He chuckles. "I just couldn't resist the invitation. It's been so long since I saw you. And... " he trails off with a little sigh.

"And?" I prompt.

He burrows his head beneath my chin, tossing the braid across my body in a curiously possessive gesture.

"And I've just always wondered," he says softly, and I can almost hear him grinning smugly, "what would happen... "

If we kissed...


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