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"Baby Series 3"Written By: Karina Rating: PG Spoilers: None Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the Characters from the series but the baby is mine. Pairing: Anastasia + Pagan Notes: Challenge 137. Baby Series 3 #183. Takes
place a few minutes after Adoration. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
Issues Of Control "You need to observe young Milliardo with a more attentive eye; for his own protection. He is putting on a good front, but he is feeling the strain." "We live in strenuous times, Your Grace. We all are strained." "Even you and I, with the blood in our past, do not carry the burdens of the King. His shrink is an idiot, unsuited to deal with our Soldier King." "Dr. Meadows came highly recommended and appears to have taken the measure of the Young Master." Anastasia snorted her disgust. "You are not so fool as to believe the report he filed with Parliament are you?" Pagan's moustache twitched, a sure sign he was amused. "Madame, I will have you know I spent ten hours with the good doctor concocting that report for certain delicate eyes. There is sufficient truth in it to keep the wolves at bay for another few months." "This invitation to address the Council of Representatives might give him some much needed distance from the parliament, but it will serve only to reawaken old wounds. There is the potential for him to lose control. It would take only one word out of place, one ill thought action, and the ESUN would pull him down." The old man sighed. "I know it well." "He should not attend. There are sufficient excuses to legitimately beg off the invitation." "He is stubborn and he knows well they will concentrate on him and not the Princess." "Read this. Tell me if you think he should attend." From a pocket of her nightrobe the Duchess produced a folded paper; crumpled, scorched and partially burned. Opening it Pagan recognised Milliardo's elegant handwriting. "You read and remove pages from the King's private journal?" "One reads it less often than Hunter, and one does not remove or copy said pages. However, I can say with absolute certainty that you have not read that entry. He tore it from the journal and threw it away, no doubt disgusted with himself, but one of my agents rescued it from the fire before it caught and brought it to me. He's not ready for the vultures out to pick him clean, Pagan." The old man checked the position on the monitors of the participants in the Run and settled to read. `Sometimes I despair of what is, what could have been and what should have been. There is too much in my head for me to think sometimes and I hear them almost every day. The voices of the dead. There are so many of them… too many of them, and loudest of all… The loudest of the voices are the two I long to hear the most and I wish they at least could rest in peace. Despair. It is birthed in the past, grows quietly in deception and peeks out every now and then when I lower my defences. I should know better than to think of what could have been. I can't change anything. '
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