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"The Agency: Meeting of Souls "Written By: Karina Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS, 3x4, Others undecided at this time. Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Unbetaed, Aussie spelling and grammar, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting. Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system about international ratings. Rated for violence and language and adult concepts. Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it. Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement of psychic abilities and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were constructed before the psionic system was founded. With the advent of psionics in open use in society younger people are appearing in positions of power as they are awakening to their abilities earlier and are highly trained in their fields of expertise. Archive: Gundam Wing Universe [gundam-wing-universe.net]
//…// Thoughts
Chapter Thirty Two Put his name…on a… what? Did she say… cousin? She thought…? Why would she think he was her…? No, he was… had to be… imagining things but… That she was sitting next to him was real enough. She, Princess Relena of Sanc. The Crown Princess herself… and … and… She was looking at him… weirdly. Why? Somewhere during the course of the evening he had unwittingly stepped outside of reality and into a twilight zone; an `other' reality where everything was skewed from the norm in warped and outlandish ways. "I… excuse me? What… did you say?" How very ungracious but… he had to say something. Didn't he? He couldn't just laugh in her face, not that he felt like laughing. This was just so… so wrong. "You look surprised." That, he could not help thinking, had to be the understatement of the century. The word `surprised' hardly covered how he was feeling at the present time. "I am sorry, I know I should have gone through the proper channels, but I saw the opportunity and decided to act upon it before someone could distract me. That happens a great deal, you know; people demanding my attention. Oh and I'm starting to ramble. Please accept my apologies. I am sorry. It is just… I miss the extended family, as you surely must, Cousin. I was hoping to talk to you about home. Tsuberov is, after all, very different to Sanc and the palace." There was that word again. She tossed it around so casually, as though she expected him to be familiar with the concept of him being… family… the Cousin of the Crown Princess of Sanc. He really had to be imagining this entire conversation… Dreaming? Had he fallen asleep from the supremely boring necessity of … No, he'd decided to behave and pay attention; to live as he had realized he must during a professional working life. The Primes… their presence made a difference to everything he had thought would be his future. Duo then? Had Duo spiked the drinks? Concocted this outlandish scenario? Now that was a more plausible solution to the weirdness surrounding him. Damn, what cocktail of weirdness had Duo managed to get into his glass… and was it in only his? If Duo had spiked his drink was it not possible he had spiked the Princesses too? Had she received a dose by accident? Surely Duo would not be foolhardy enough to spike the drink of someone as prominently placed as Relena Peacecraft? The Princess was talking rubbish, so it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that she had to have received a dose. How many more of them must make fools of themselves to amuse the braided terror when he was bored? Who would start climbing the walls or swinging from the chandelier? But… No, that could not be right. Duo would not be such a fool as to spike the drinks at such an affair as this. What was going on? He had wanted to know about his mother, about her family and who his father was and … he had wanted to know, but not even in his wildest daydreams had he entertained the notion of being a cousin to royalty. It had to be someone's sick idea of a joke. Her eyes were on him, boring holes into him. She was making the unreality of the moment worse as she was studying him with all of the attention a scientist devoted to studying the microscopic life in a drop of water. Her blue eyes were so intense and a small smile curved her lips… and there was a feather light touch across the back of his hand. >Burst of brilliant curiosity, hunger and loneliness. Such a sense of isolation in the midst of so many! Frustration at constant interruptions, constant expectations; constant disapproval. Fear. Fear of the future… < No! No he did not need that intensely personal awareness of her! It only made the unreality of the moment worse. He struggled to push the unwanted reading away from him; to focus only on the impossibility of what she was saying; that was better to focus on than to sink beneath the deluge of emotion surging within her. "Zechs? You look a bit… flushed. Are you alright?" No! No he was not alright. He certainly was not `alright', far from it, and he was flushed was he? Well, that was no surprise as he felt he was going to combust on the spot. Somewhere inside his head he was aware of a soft voice whispering insidiously that he needed to entertain better control. It warned him that there was no future for him if he did not maintain his control and, for the safety of others around him, he should know better. All he wanted to do was to hide! To stay hidden; remain safely unobserved and obscure. He needed to moderate his reaction or he would have the entire room down with a migraine from overflow. Control. Time to fall back on his basic training and use it to contain himself and the impossible situation. How long had he sat here looking like a stunned mullet? A deep breath, inhaled slowly and hold it, count slowly to a measured beat, one to five and exhale in a steady, gentle stream… and repeat. What the hell was this all about? Was it someone's sick joke? Had Mueller put her up to this? It was certainly warped enough for the insufferable bore to have instigated, and Muller hated him. There had never been anything but antagonism between them, though to his knowledge he had never done anything to incur Mueller's contempt. No, breathe; just breathe. He could feel the attention of two singularly distinctive minds focusing on him. He had to control himself or the Primes would want answers… and the entire situation was ridiculous. He had lost enough control to touch their awareness of him and he could only hope he would not be called to task over the matter. If he regained control quickly enough… He did not wish to disappoint either the Prime Gabriella or the Duke. They had been wonderful to him. A breath of fresh air and hope for something better than his worst fears being realized. Just breathe and get a hold of himself and then, then find out what the Princess really wanted. "Princess Relena, how lovely it is to see you again." What was he supposed to do in his life if he could not control himself when a girl spoke to him? Admittedly she was not just a girl, and she was not fumbling around with romantic aspirations. No, she was not… just… a girl. He was thinking too much. He was thinking way too much, with no form or substance other than growing terror. Unreasoning fear, like before. The beginnings of a panic attack and he hadn't experienced one for a long time now. It was years since his last attack, but there was no excuse. He should be beyond unreasoning fear, beyond that reaction which had ruled his childhood. He had thought he had outgrown them! But… Had he heard Quatre? Was he… saved? "Quatre Winner, the pleasure is all mine. I know it is terribly impolite of me, and I am hopeful you will forgive me this one tinsy selfish time? Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?" Quatre… Oh God yes! It was Quatre! He hadn't been abandoned! Quatre was miraculously there, taking her hand and beaming at her as only Quatre could. "Mr. Marquise and I were talking and I really have been waiting such a terribly long time for the opportunity to speak with him." No, no! She could not send him off. He needed Quatre to tell her to go, not go himself. The world was a confusing place, and it wasn't improving as it should. The breathing exercises did not appear to be working particularly well. There was so much noise; noise did not help. There was too much noise for him to take well; it only amplified his distress, brought something dark and horrible closer to the surface, something he did not want to remember. There was a touch in his mind, a flow of reassurance; gentle and solid. It would help, it really would, if he could just get away from the noise. He was surely going to burst into flame it was so hot, but it was cold too; terribly, terribly cold. He would either combust in on himself or he would surely throw up. Either option would ruin their nicely overdone restaurant and… and … He so desperately wanted to lock himself in a dark closet, away from all the madness. "Nothing would please me more than to see Zechs enjoying a conversation with you, but I am sorry, Relena. I think I need to take Zechs out of here for a few minutes." There was the lightest of touches on his shoulder; a touch buffered by the clothing he wore and by shields almost as strong as his own. Quatre was what he needed now, an island of calm amidst the tumult of confusion. She was crushingly disappointed, he could feel her cold separation from everyone, her isolation so vivid against the warmth generated by Quatre and projected at him. Even in the midst of a crowd she was alone… He did not mean to insult her but he had to get out! To his left someone was tipsy and lost in daydreams of stripping the red gown from the back of the pretty woman across the room; of burying himself deep within her until he made her scream and himself along with her… he hated the dessert, but it was only polite to smile and compliment the menu… a momentary pique of interest from a strong and watchful personality… a sudden spike of concern… the insufferable itch! An insatiable itch caused through that rash, he really should get it looked at… Block it all out, hide behind his shields, try not to cling and wail distress at the touch of Prime level minds… Place his trust in Quatre to get him out of the restaurant before he disgraced Tsuberov and himself. So sorry, it was not her fault. He did not wish to insult her, or hurt her feelings, but he could not stay. "I'm sure you will agree with me that Zechs does not look well at the moment. It would not do to make a scene here, as it would reflect badly on Tsuberov. I think it best I help him out of the restaurant, don't you?" "Oh, Quatre please! I… We really do need to talk. I've tried repeatedly to see him and something happens every time and I have to attend to other things. But… I have to admit he does look a little… peaked." Spike of concern from her, so close it rippled through his awareness, as vibrations would ripple through a gong struck a resounding blow. No, no. This was bad. He was going to throw up. Why could he read her emotions so well? She seemed to outshine everyone near them, impinging on his awareness inescapably. If he could not get away he was going to throw up their very expensive meal, all over their terribly expensive carpet and brocade upholstered chair. There were too many impressions encroaching on him and he was trying his hardest to strengthen his shields. How long could he hold out? He had reassured the two attentive voices in his head that he was alright, but for how long could he claim that? He wanted to hide, to crawl into a deep and dark place and let the world go away. As he had done before. It would all be much better if the world would simply go on without him for a time. "I'm sorry, Relena, but I really think its best if I take Zechs up to his room." He could feel the wavering in Quatre's emotions, the hesitation. He felt it too, the terrible isolation in the girl, so similar to Quatre's own isolation from the world. That exclusive upbringing known to the heirs to responsibility, who had no true life of their own… Yes, Quatre and Relena shared that. "If you must talk to him, then I'll work something out, but for now; would you please wait a few minutes and, if anyone comments on our early departure, inform them that Zechs was just not feeling well. When you are sure no one is concerned then you can follow us up to the suite; if you can get away without arousing any attention." "But… Oh, I'm not allowed to say `but' am I? It's stupid, the things I have to do just to talk to someone I want to talk to." >Spike of temper, rising anger squashed beneath cold hard practicality. < "Alright. Alright, I'll try to keep anyone from asking questions, although I have no idea what is wrong with him. He seemed alright a moment ago; it was a rather sudden illness. So where will you be, Quatre? I really do need to speak with him." "Give us a few minutes, distract any questions if you can and then find Duo Maxwell. Tell him what has happened and request he escort you up to the suite. If anyone asks, Zechs ate something that appears not to have agreed with him. Only talk to Duo about coming up to the suite, Your Highness, or someone will end up whispering in the wrong ears. I'll try to settle Zechs down, so take your time and give me a chance to work." "What is wrong with him, Quatre?" Anything. Promise her anything, tell her anything, just get him out of here before any more awkward questions could be raised. If any of the Professors noticed he would spend the night in the laboratories infirmary; and probably the next week as well. They would want to run tests to find out what had gone wrong with his shields. That… would probably be for the better, though it would be the end of him graduating this year. "Duo… Is that the boy with the wonderful chestnut braid? Alright, I can do that. I will run interference for you, but I will come upstairs and I will not wait all night. I.. We… really do need to talk, Quatre. Something just is not right about this whole business, and we need to talk about it." Ah, God, would they just shut the hell up and let him throw up? His head was thumping and all he wanted to do was rest. A nice dark room, a comfortable bed, even a chair, and blessed peace and quiet. The suite was psi shielded. It would be his best short term option and he needed to be there now! "Alright, whatever, but I have to get him out of here. Zechs? I'm going to touch you and you really can't lash out at me, okay? I have to touch you physically to help you out of here, so grit your teeth and put up with the surge, okay? It's just Quatre and you know you can trust me." There were hands on his cheeks; cool hands; palms and… >flash of an ornate room and the eyes of his father… huge man towering over him, but there was only the impression of security and safety… laughter bubbling, so many women laughing… warming sunlight, bright summers day, breeze gently caressing his cheek, the song of birds…< Astonishing aqua eyes staring into his, catching and holding his attention. The wash of comforting impressions, of the wonder that was the Earth on his first sight of it surged through his senses. Not his awareness, not his own impressions, but he knew the one responsible. He recognized it, the flavour of the mind, the unmistakable emotional coolness; the quiet confidence and perpetual comfort. Quatre. The weight of an arm slipped around his waist and somehow he was on his feet, wavering slightly, but the arm firmed around his middle. It supported him confidently and he was showered with a steadying sense of calm emanating from the presence. "Come on, Zechs. We need to get you out of here with as little fuss as possible. What say we just quietly walk out of the room and slip on over to the elevators, yes? There is no need for anyone to mark our departure. We've just had enough of the evening's entertainment, right?" Oh yes, he had had quite enough of the evening and was only to willing to leave, but it was not polite; not at all polite to just… walk out on a Princess. He had to show… he was going to be sick, he just knew it… but he had to be polite. "Quatre?" "Shh, just concentrate on moving. We don't want to draw the Master's attention, do we? Best no one realize something is happening." "Haven't had an attack… for a long time. Thought… free of it. The Princess…?" What had happened to the Princess? Had he passed out? No, surely not, else they would not be quietly leaving the room and he would be on his way to the infirmary by now. So he hadn't passed out, more likely he had phased out mentally for her to have vanished as quickly and silently as she had. "We will talk when we are back at the room, Zechs. There is plenty of time for that after we get this… whatever it is, overflow?... under control. Come on, pull it together and help, will you? You are too heavy for me to manhandle and… Damn, Otto is watching us." ——————————- Relena smiled graciously at the Master, inclining her head regally as one was expected to do when one was the Crown Princess of Sanc. Small talk had its place, particularly if it covered your interest in locating a specific person unobtrusively and distracting attention from someone else. From the corner of her eye she watched as Quatre Winner and the taller blonde man slipped out of the reception room. Success, she determined following a quick look around and it appeared no one was paying any particular attention to the two, although… was that a frown appearing on Otto's face? She had learned it was generally not a good thing if Otto frowned and yes, it did look like a frown; although one who did not know the taciturn Security Chief as well as she did might not notice the subtle nuances of his expression. Relena had grown up with Otto in her close proximity and she doubted there was an expression he was capable of producing that she had not learned to read, despite his best efforts to appear expressionless at all times. She had become adept at holding inane conversations and people watching in a crowded room. It was part and parcel of being who she was, the future Queen of Sanc, but some days it annoyed her, like now, when she had a definite agenda to fulfil. A flash of rich chestnut caught her eye as the constant circulations of the clusters of people shifted and, thankfully, it was time to move on. There was that astonishingly long braid of hair she was looking for and had itched to touch since first sighting it. That it was worn by a boy was more astonishing, and intriguing, as no one would wear that magnificent rope of hair without a reason. Relena liked exploring the intricacies of people. The braid beckoned, making her fingers twitch to touch and maybe, just maybe, she might get to lay her hands on the rope tonight. She would love to see that magnificent mane loose and cascading free. But such thoughts were not to be entertained now. There were other things she wanted more than to run her fingers through rippling chestnut strands and time waited for no man, nor for the Princess of Sanc. With an extremely well practised smile, and just the lightest flutter of her eyelashes, she made her excuses to the Master and his companions, slipping with practised ease into the general tide of people moving about the reception room. A quick glance around flashing a charming, and exhaustively practised smile at people who wanted to be seen talking with the Princess in their midst. Sliding gracefully through the bodies, not hesitating for a moment or she would be caught up in some inane conversation she could not care less about. Scanning faces… Otto was watching her and, if anything, that frown of his had deepened, which possibly meant he had noticed her ever so brief conversation with Zechs Marquise. A flash of irritation was quickly controlled; Relena was quite put out with Otto over Zechs Marquise. She had been warned on two separate occasions, by Otto, not to approach Zechs and on both occasions no satisfactory explanation had been forthcoming. It was possible that she desired to escape Otto's attention more than Quatre Winner, as she had blatantly ignored the Security Chief's warnings and gone out of her way to meet the tall blonde man. It had seemed only natural that she go to Otto and request he make the arrangements for her to engage in conversation in an informal setting with Mr. Marquise. Otto was known to her from their mutual days in the palace at Sanc, and she had always thought of him as a likable fellow. It had come as rather a shock when he had refused her initial request, suggesting she mind her lessons and walked off. Politely, of course. Otto was always unfailingly polite and proper with her. She had been shocked at his refusal and not a little put out, but of course, telling her to mind her lessons had done nothing but make her more determined to have that little discussion with her cousin. Her second attempt to have Otto arrange a formal meeting had resulted in Otto not so gently, in fact quite firmly, informing her to mind her lessons and to stay away from Mr. Marquise. Zechs had a great deal to accomplish in these few short months that marked his final year at Tsuberov. Mr. Marquise, she had been informed, did not need any minor distractions complicating his studies. Relena had been called many things in her young life, but perhaps the most insufferable had been to be likened to a minor distraction. It was downright insulting and that Otto had smiled at her as he said it… for a frightening instant there she had almost expected him to reach out and muss her hair as he had done when she was a small child. Blessedly he had not, but it was clear he would not initiate an informal reception with the young man, nor would he explain why her request was denied. It had not put her off, merely caused her to switch her efforts to her personal secretary, going through more formal channels to attain her goal. Annoyingly every effort she made had failed through the course of the year, and she had noticed that with every unsuccessful attempt her work load had increased. It was as though someone intended to keep her occupied and away from her cousin. He had to be a cousin, of course, he was just so obviously a Peacecraft. He was actually rather a good looking Peacecraft too, more striking than the other cousins she had occasion to mix with at the court in Sanc. On seeing him for the first time she had been struck by his obvious bloodline and the question had arisen then as to why he had not attended court. The Cousins, as she tended to think of them, normally made their first formal court presentation on their fourteenth birthdays and she had attended those occasions since her sixth year. She could not have missed his presentation, as he was only a few years her senior. There were a number of rumours about him running through the ranks of the students attending Tsuberov, and she had made it her business, once it was clear she was expected to keep her distance from him, to learn those rumours. The whispers she had pursued only incited her curiosity to meet him. It was, after all, unthinkable to have a Peacecraft cousin reared outside of Sanc. If, as rumour had it, it was true that he had grown up in an orphanage then she wanted answers as to why. It was well known to her that if a Cousin chanced to be orphaned they were immediately designated Wards of the King and assigned Guardians. It was the sworn duty of the assigned Guardian to oversee every need of the Cousin, from housing to the very best of education, and most importantly, the presentation of that child at the Court on their fourteenth birthday. It was unacceptable for a cousin to be placed in an orphanage and, even if by chance one had been, they would not have been placed in an orphanage outside of the precincts of Sanc's borders. It was unthinkable to abandon one of the Cousin's in such a manner; Relena had been brought up to believe they were Family and not to be neglected or disrespected. Finding a Cousin at Tsuberov, one unknown to her and only slightly older, who clearly was not meant to associate with her… well, something was rotting in the dungeons of Sanc and Relena, being the curious girl that she was, intended to find the rotting corpse and gain some answers. All she needed was for some people to cooperate with her, beginning with Zechs himself, which meant now she had to go through Duo Maxwell and Quatre Winner to get to him. Annoying but not insurmountable. "Mr. Maxwell." The blue eyes that centred on her widened, almost comically so, she thought. Relena smiled sweetly at the gathering of students with Duo and employed the patented by royalty prerogative to steal away from any gathering of people the one individual she required, with only a look. People tended to understand that look and gave ground graciously, not asking questions, which was quite handy in the long term. It was one of the better lessons she had mastered, and not nearly so disagreeable as most others. No one, not even Duo Maxwell himself, would deny her this opportunity to investigate what was, to her, a personal mystery. All she had wanted to do was get to know a cousin, there was nothing wrong with that… was there? Of course not and Quatre might have whisked him away, but she was going upstairs and she was going to get some answers; and Otto be damned. "Good evening to you all, I do hope you don't mind if I steal away Mr. Maxwell? Can we have a seat for a moment or two, Mr. Maxwell, while I have a word with you please?" He must have been surprised, though he did not show it, executing a perfect half bow; just the right amount of formality given the circumstances and offered his arm, which Relena took with a smile, resting her small hand on his larger one. She had never spoken to him before, but one would have thought they were at least passing acquaintances as they made their way through the revellers. She could not have hoped for better, noting the Masters near them smiling and nodding, turning back to their conversations and, she was not so happy to note, she had lost sight of Otto. That might be a problem if he had gone in pursuit of Quatre and her cousin, but first thing was first and hopefully she would catch sight of Otto still in the reception room. Duo led her toward the side of the gathering and to an area where they would have some measure of privacy, screened as it was by a strategically place pot plant on a plinth. "Your Highness?" Straight down to business too, she liked that. The look in his unusually coloured eyes was intense, a glimmer of violet shifting his blue eyes through shades of colour as he demanded to know what this was all about. He maintained the obviously casual air she wished him to project, herself being just as casual, smoothing down her dress and offering up slightly flirtatious smiles even as her eyes told him she was not flirting with him. The idea was not to attract attention. "I have a message for you, from Quatre Winner." "Quatre?" He looked about the room, standing to enable him to peer further than his seated placement had permitted. She could see the frown starting when he failed to see any sign of his friend, and that expression would only attract attention if it was noted. "He is no longer present, Mr. Maxwell, as he took Mr. Marquise back to your suite." A sharp look was directed at her and Relena smiled, trying to get him to relax a little, tapping the seat to suggest he be seated. "Try not to attract attention, please. Quatre really would prefer that only you and I arrive at your suite in the next few minutes." "Eh?" Duo looked anything but pleased and the frown was definitely there. "What's going on?" Oh, good question, she mused. The perfect question that never, however many times she asked it, seemed to get answered. Certainly there had been no answer that met with her satisfaction. "That, Mr. Maxwell, is something I also wish to know. Might I call you Duo? I find all this formality a pain and it tends to inhibit plain speaking." That appeared to surprise him, but he grinned after a moment and thankfully the frown disappeared as he flipped his braid over his shoulder. A pity that, her fingers, of their own accord of course, had been steadily twitching their way in it's general direction. Maybe later she would get to touch? "Uh, yeah. Sure." ——————————————— Otto, Duo noted through a gap in the crowd, was stalking around the room while attempting to give the appearance of casually strolling, but Duo knew a stalk when he saw one. To him it was clear the Security Chief was looking for somebody, and every now and then he would look pointedly at the door to the main lobby. Given that he did not wish to attract the man's attention Duo sank back down to his seat and tried his best to blend into the wall. He was a little at a loss to explain why Quatre would send the Princess of Sanc, of all people, after him with a message. "Is something wrong, Duo?" Glancing at the Princess, Duo grinned and shook his head. It was a night for surprises it seemed. "No, nothing is wrong. I just… would prefer not to come to Otto's attention at the moment, that's all." It was rather a shock when the Princess glanced quickly around and looked relieved when she failed to see the Security Chief. "Ah, well that makes two of us. You will take me up to your suite, won't you?" Duo paled and then blushed a rosy hue, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's… not exactly allowed, Your Highness." "My name is Relena, Duo, and I will thank you to use it. I assure you I am not out to jump your bones." She blushed as she realized the insinuation. "I need to talk with Quatre and specifically with Mr. Marquise." Duo arched an eyebrow. "Zechs? You want to talk to Zechs? What do you need to have words with him for? He doesn't need any hassles this close to his graduation, you know. He has a shit lo.. Erm, sorry. He has a heap of work he needs to concentrate on just now, and he doesn't need any complications from… well… ahm…" ——————————————————— Relena felt a darker blush ride her cheeks and frowned at Duo. Honestly, the male of the species could be so troubling at times, and this one in particular appeared to have his mind in the gutter. "Duo Maxwell, I believe rumour is correct when it claims you let your mouth run away with you far too much. I am far from being intent on seducing anyone, nor am I intending to make trouble for any of you. I was talking to Mr. Marquise and Quatre snatched him away from me, taking him to his suite. Now I intend to finish my conversation with Zechs and either you tell me where your suite is, or alternately take me to it, which I would prefer, otherwise I will march out to the reception desk and have the details from the register. I will do so in a very public manner, which is certain to raise eyebrows and that will attract the attention of not only the Masters, but also Otto, and we do not wish that, do we? Of course not, so we will accomplish this feat quietly and unobtrusively. Not to mention immediately. " Not that she would carry through on her threat of course, but she would definitely acquire the suite number, if not in such a public fashion, but Duo did not know her and he well might think her forward and spoilt enough to do exactly as she said. From memory he was not an empath, so he would not read her intent as clearly as she could read his. It was rather gratifying to realize that she had quite startled him. Duo gaped at her, looking remarkably like a fish out of water. "Has anyone ever told you, you can be quite bossy?" "Oh, it comes with the territory of being a bona fide Princess." Relena offered him a sugary sweet smile, glancing around the room quickly as she stood to place certain people and liking what she saw. "Now, Otto appears to have been distracted by the Dean, so this should be a good opportunity to escape his watchful eye. Shall we go?" "So Princess, what did you want with Zechs anyway?" Relena flashed a smile dripping with sugar even as her blue eyes spat the promise of fire and brimstone at him. "Did I not request you call me by my name?" "Excuse me." Duo inclined his head as she fitted her arm through his and they began to casually saunter through the crowd so intent on socializing following their meal. "I don't chat with Princesses every day, so I'm a bit down on the rules." "That is quite alright, just don't do it again or I will have to have you whipped and cast into the dungeons for a week on a diet of bread and water." She flashed him a genuine smile and inclined her head to a Master in passing. Be casual, look the part of who and what you are and, while she crossed the floor, forget she intended to skip out on the reception. Her mother would be horrified if she knew what she was about to do. Well bred young ladies did not go to the hotel suites of not one, but three rather good looking young men. Duo snorted, amused and decided he could get to like the young woman. They shared wicked grins, side stepping some laughing older women who were flirting outrageously with some of the Tsuberov students. —————————————- He was in trouble and he knew it. The moment he realized the Princess had cornered the young man Otto knew he would not be able to get to her and distract her before she spoke to Marquise. Just how much damage could be done before he might contain the situation he had no idea, but he needed to keep those two apart. He would have charged across the length of the room to separate them, but the social niceties slowed him down and the last thing he needed to do was cause a scene. He watched with growing concern as the Princess smiled in a relaxed and winning manner; Relena had perfected that early on, it came naturally to her. She must have intended to charm Marquise, something he was sure she was quite capable of doing, however, whatever she said appeared to have the opposite effect. Marquise went as white as his hair and then colour returned to his face in a rising tide that quite frankly worried Otto. Upon arriving at Tsuberov it had not taken long for them to realize that Marquise was susceptible to what were politely referred to as `panic attacks' by his councillors. The incidents had come with less frequency as Zechs had settled into the establishment, but they had not ceased entirely until Duo Maxwell had become friendly with him. Those instances had been marked by a notable loss of colour followed by a heavy flush and intense headache, usually visible in the manner in which Marquise would try to avoid bright light and noise… all of which was abundant in the reception room. What Otto witnessed, the lack of colour followed by the heavy flush, the narrowed eyes and the way a hand rose to shield his eyes, brought those past attacks to mind. His reaction had been to cross the room as quickly as he could without causing a scene Zechs did not need to further distress him, but he had paused when Quatre Winner had materialized from the crowd and took charge of the scene. Otto hesitated and as he watched Winner speak to the Princess, who looked to be more than a little put out by whatever Winner said to her and, being Relena, had to argue the point. Otto could have groaned, but Winner responded and then focused on Marquise, resting a hand lightly on his face; an act which appeared to calm the telepathic empath. Sometimes a touch was needed, though the general rule was not to casually touch a high talent empath or telepath; but Winner knew the rules as well as Otto and undoubtedly knew that, in certain situations, a touch was needed to ground a psychic in distress. Winner's hand on Marquise's face appeared to calm the blonde down, giving him a reference point, an anchor, though he still looked to be far from steady. Quatre exchanged words with the Princess, shaking his head at one point, nodding slightly at another, motioning with his head toward the door. A few seconds more and Winner had Marquise on his feet and the Princess was moving to mingle with the crowd, drawing heads to her, something she was extremely efficient at. Winner was moving toward the entrance to the Lobby, clearly hoping to get Marquise out of the room and, Otto guessed, to their suite. All very quietly and efficiently handled, Otto decided, but what had transpired to set Marquise off in the first place? Something the Princess had said, he had no doubt of that, and he needed to determine how much damage control he would be required to initiate. He would need to determine if he would be required to transport Marquise to the laboratories and the infirmary there, but the Princess was closer and he would ask her some pointed questions. If Winner was unable to handle his friend, Otto knew he was sensible enough to raise the alarm before Marquise got out of hand. Relena was working the room well, her parents would have been proud of her. He had seen the Peacecrafts perform in a crowd countless times before, and he knew she was moving through the gathering with a purpose. There was nothing random about her direction, he recognized her stance as being anything but casual, but who she might be targeting… He hesitated, glancing toward the doorway, but Winner had successfully whisked Marquise off. To say her target surprised him was an understatement. Duo Maxwell? She moved in on the group of students gracefully, interrupted their conversation, smiling, and in seconds smoothly extricated Maxwell from the group. Otto hesitated a moment longer, unsure he liked that combination, his instincts warring over watching the unlikely couple and going to offer what assistance he could to Marquise. Glancing toward the door he took a few steps, absently chewing on his lower lip and looked back to the odd couple of the century… only to find they had vanished. //Damn. Where the hell did they go?// Alarm bells ringing in his mind he surveyed the reception room. He had not lost sight of the doors to the foyer, so they certainly had not left via that route, but perhaps the balcony? Why was he worrying about this anyway, he should be attending to Marquise if he could not immediately question the girl… Careful to keep the main entrance in sight he slipped through the little clusters of people, nodding here and there, exchanging a quiet greeting but always moving, never pausing to get caught in a conversation. He really needed to know what had been said, and determine how much damage it could do to carefully laid plans. He caught a glimpse of the Princesses rose coloured gown against the far wall and paused; a waitress moved to one side and beyond the chatting individuals he caught a glimpse of the pair, heads close together, Maxwell looking more than a little surprised. It took a great deal to surprise that enterprising young man and Otto hissed softly, threading his way through the groupings with care. There was trouble if ever he saw it and he wished so many people were not about. Why did they not head to the dance floor and get out of his way? "Otto." Damn, he did not have the time for social niceties with the Dean. "Excuse me, sir. I am needed elsewhere." "And you are heading in the wrong direction." The man caught his arm, halting him effectively though the words were enough to stop him. "I saw Marquise and the Princess together and he looked like he was about to faint… or have one of those damnable attacks of his. I thought he was over them? I need you to find him and ascertain his condition. Get him to the infirmary so he can be treated." "A work already in progress… damn. Now where did they go?" He peered over the Dean's head, looking for the Princesses distinctive gown, or the trademark chestnut hair. "Who?" "Princess Relena sought out Duo Maxwell, of all people, after Winner escorted Marquise out." The Dean paled, looking concerned, peering into the crowd. "That is not a combination that bodes well." An understatement, Otto mused, but one he could not afford to consider at the moment. Relena had no cause to speak with Maxwell, although he supposed it might have been to pass on a message from Winner, though Winner was more than capable of sending a telepathic message to Maxwell, they were in close enough proximity for limited range contact to be initiated. No, something was cooking in the kitchen and he wanted to find out what. "I suggest, sir, that you endeavour to keep people distracted and the evening moving along quietly. It would be best not to attract any further attention. I will attend to the matter." "I will trust you to handle this as discretely as possible." He wished the Dean could release him to be forthcoming with Marquise and the Princess, but that was not the case. His hands were tied, as were Hargraves, but at least the man had acknowledged the facts, and let it be known he would back him if they could no longer contain matters as they had stood. He would need to call in and report this disaster, but first he needed to ascertain just how much damage had been done; if it was indeed irreversible. "How is it the Princess was on the guest list for this evening? I was under the impression she was to dine here last evening, when Zechs was safely at the laboratories. " Hargraves scowled, inclining his head in acknowledgement of the gaff. None of this would have happened if the Princess had not attended the function. "That I shall endeavour to discover as she was in attendance yesterday. See what you can do to contain matters." Knowing the Peacecraft family as he did, Otto could well imagine it had been Relena's intention to front the young man the previous night. When he had not appeared at the dinner and following social gathering, she undoubtedly had determined to ensure she would have a second chance. They were a determined and outright stubborn breed, the Peacecrafts, and once their minds had been set to a course they were unmoveable. He had been hard pressed to keep the Princess occupied and away from Marquise, as per his instructions. Stubborn did not adequately describe the bloodline sufficiently in his view. When he looked again at the Princess he swore under his breath as she and Maxwell were conspicuous by their absence. All he could do was hope they were heading for the suite the three young men shared… and wouldn't that cause a scandal if she was found there! ——————————————- Quatre was a relatively low level telepath, and even with training his telepathy would never exceed mid level range. His empathy, however, was of sufficient sensitivity and strength that he was already assured of a Prime's rating on completion of his training at Tsuberov. He had been shielding himself quite successfully from the presence of the guests at the restaurant and the reception room and, to be honest, he had actually been enjoying the social chit chat. He was well aware that neither Duo nor Zechs would ever feel comfortable in such company, at least not while they were so hyperaware of their class distinctions. He was sure though, that once Zechs was out in the work force as a fully documented and licensed Prime talent, that he would soon enough become accustomed to such occasions and accept, and relax, in the formality of the evenings. Getting his friends into a decently tailored suit each would also help. Looking and feeling good would boost their confidence in themselves, and he was looking forward to the surprise of his contemporaries when those two debuted in truly decently tailored suits. There was a huge different between adequate tailoring and exceptionally tailored suits in Quatre's vaunted opinion. He had thoroughly enjoyed the perfectly cooked and presented meal and was warming up to the after dinner socializing with other guests of the hotel; `doing his bit' to promote Tsuberov, Duo termed it. It had been a little uncomfortable when he had experienced a sharp spike of satisfaction and anticipation in his immediate vicinity. Not thinking much of it, he was after all, quite satisfied himself and anticipating an entertaining evening, he never-the-less had turned his attention to tracing the emotion to its source. He had been somewhat surprised to discover the spike originated from the Princess of Sanc, and that her attention was focused on someone on the far side of the room. The young woman had slipped into the crowd heading for the dance floor, sliding between the couples as though they were not there, her attention focused beyond them and to one side of the dancing area. Well, the Princess of Sanc finding herself a male interest and being determined to dance with him was none of his concern. He wished her well, only too aware of the restrictions she lived under, having to face something of the same himself. It was possible, if there was no one appropriate to introduce her to him, that she had spotted him, who ever it might be, in the company of someone she knew, which would allow her to be formally introduced. Being the Crown Princess had drawbacks and meeting young men was one of them. It was more than possible the young woman had found herself a male interest and was intent on introducing herself if she could not get someone to introduce them, as was proper given her station in life. There would really be no one on the guest list who could be considered inappropriate company for the Princess, so really there was no need for concern and he had turned back to his conversation with a small smile. It had come as a totally unpleasant shock to feel a sharp spear of panic, confusion, disbelief, a desire to run flood his shields. He knew the flavour of the impressions, it was unmistakable, and the empathic discharge was thankfully on a high band which few psi's would be able to read. Zechs? He would know that psychic touch anywhere, and the initial spike had dimmed to settle into a cloud of confusion, before that too faded to be almost unnoticeable. Zechs had shielded his mind, containing his emotions, but Quatre was second only to Zechs in empathic talent in the hotel, and he had caught the rising tide of chaotic thought and impressions in his friend. It had been enough to see him offer a hasty, but impeccably polite, excuse and break away from the conversation, eeling his way through the guests toward the dance floor. Somewhere here… somewhere… near… He broke through the dancers, pausing on the far edge of the dance floor to sweep the room with a penetrating scan, employing his empathy to guide him and find the pair seated partially shielded by a grand floral arrangement. Of course they had to be that far away from him, and in this situation he could only think of Zechs as a ticking bomb. While he had had the good fortune to have never witnessed an attack, he had heard from a number of sources that Zechs had been prone to fits of what they termed panic attacks. From what he knew of the incidents they were not actual panic episodes, but something else entirely. He had heard one Professor suggest they might potentially be caused by a feedback loop stemming from the high level of his empathic and telepathic abilities. That was far from what Quatre knew to be a panic attack, but what he did know was that it was not a good idea for such an incident to occur in the middle of one of the city's foremost hotels. He could only hope that he did not affront anyone with the speed with which he crossed the distance between himself and the object of his attention; not that he particularly cared. All that was of concern was getting to Marquise and then assisting him to a more suitable location to deal with whatever it was that was distressing him. If anyone noticed it would be a foregone conclusion that Zechs would not be graduating from Tsuberov this year. They would hold him over and spend another year working on controls to attempt to ensure another episode did not occur. And rightfully so too, he admitted. The staff at Tsuberov would be irresponsible if they released Zechs and permitted him to enter the outside world, the real world, with all of its stresses and strains, and they failed to have him adequately protected. If there was one thing Tsuberov was not, it was irresponsible. The Masters and Professors took their role as educators and trainers very seriously indeed, which was why Quatre was at Tsuberov and not on L4 undergoing private tuition and training. The last few steps to reach his friend had seemed to take forever, but finally he was there, using his body as a shield; a physical barrier to offer some sense of protection and security. The Princess had looked plainly confused and alarmed, genuinely concerned and totally unaware of what had produced this reaction in Zechs. Relena was, as Quatre recalled, phenomenally stubborn and she had refused to be put off easily. It had been made abundantly clear that he was not preferred company. Her initial reaction clearly suggested he take himself off elsewhere, preferably off the edge of a cliff. And Relena was generally such a polite young lady too. Stubborn she might have been, and innocent to the ways of the high level empath, but she was also sensible and had not fought him for long. She had worked the bystanders attention away from them masterfully, as befitted her training; he had not doubted she could manage it. Marquise was shaking under his hands and his colour was bad to say the least. Through the medium of his empathy, magnified by physical touch, he could feel how Zechs was struggling to regain control. There was no danger of his Prime level talents running wild and taking down the bystanders; the shields Zechs had worked so hard at developing were too strong for that. They were like diamonds under the pressure of Quatre's scan, solid and immovable. No, the danger here lay in Zechs doing himself a mischief, or being marked as socially unacceptable in this elitist circle. He paused near the doorway, tilting his friend's head up to study his face and found himself looking into huge crystal blue eyes. The eyes pleaded with him, rolling toward the room they were just leaving and he felt the surge of desire. Zechs wanted to talk to the Princess as much, if not more, as Relena had insisted on talking to him! What had they been discussing? Whatever it was it would have to wait; Quatre was not of a mind to delay removing themselves from the public eye. Zechs would have a few minutes to gain control of himself and then he could talk to Relena. Quatre had no doubt the girl would brow beat Duo into bringing her up to the suite, and wouldn't that cause a scandal if she was caught in their rooms! Under his hands he could feel Zechs shaking with his effort to control the feedback, and it was a feedback loop, Quatre realized; physical touch giving him greater sensitivity. Something had taken Zechs by surprise and triggered a reaction in Zechs that looped back on itself, feeding the uncertainty/ confusion/ fear in a never ending cycle that compounded the problem. Until he could help Zechs establish a break point they would need to be away from everyone. "Quatre?" "It's alright. We don't want to draw the Master's attention, do we? Best they know nothing untoward is happening." He could only hope they had managed to escape the attention of the Masters; or nothing short of divine intervention would save Zechs from repeating the year at Tsuberov. "The Princess…?" "When we get back to the room, Zechs." He spared a few seconds for a quick look around and did not like what he saw. "Oh damn, Otto is watching us." Walking more quickly now, feeling the effort Zechs was making not to lean on him too heavily, too obviously, and they were out of the reception room and crossing the lobby, heading for the elevators. It would be only a few minutes until they could make the safety of the shielded suite and then it would be easier. "I'll help you however I can, just let me get you up to the suite." "I need answers, Quatre," the faintest of whispers and long fingers pressed to his temple, a hiss of breath marking the raging headache Zechs was suffering. "You are not the only one wanting answers, Zechs." As the elevator doors closed before him, just before the diminishing gap closed completely, Quatre looked up into the intense blue eyes of the man who entered the lobby. "Oh shit. The Prime." t.b.c. Karina Robertson 2009 ———————————- Notes Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projectin g Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age] Relena Peacecraft: Sanc. Level 5 Telepathic Send function / Suggestor element Level 6, Receive function Level 3. Projected level Telepathic Send, Level 7, Suggestor Level 8, Receive function Level 5. Initial training Sanc, New Port City. Tsuberov student. First year present, second year study roster. [Age: 17 years] Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age] Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers. Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age]. Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3 |
