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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: Wu Fei + Relena Notes: Challenge 166. Baby Series 3 #272. Takes place approximately at the same time as Hero Or Villain. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
A Matter Of Skills "Milliardo is not here? There is something wrong?" Wu Fei's dark eyes flashed to the Princess then around the room. It was a small `private' dinner this evening, the King, his sister, a few important officials and the three former Gundam pilots. "Pagan extends his apologies for the delay, he requires the King's presence for a few minutes. I believe Milliardo is required to give his approval on some security issues." He was uncertain the Princess believed him, but she was not his concern. It was the others who needed to be set at ease with the King's absence, though to be honest this was the `pre dinner drinks' and there was time yet before they would be seated. It was possible his fears, and Maxwell's, were groundless and the King had had no adverse reaction to the strains of his speech. The man had looked to be calm though perhaps a shade quieter than usual on their return from the Assembly Hall. Something about that quietness had worried Wu Fei and Maxwell had been equally as distrustful. He would have preferred it if he had gone to investigate, but the simple truth was Duo had the better skills for quiet breaking and entering. He was more at ease mingling than picking locks. It would have been better if they could have kept the night to family and friends, but unfortunately such was not the case. It would not be until late at night and the insomniacs were the only wakeful people that they would have the house to themselves. He felt that he was coming full circle. He had grown up with position and prestige and the acute awareness of knowing propriety and form must be preserved and here he was, his colony gone, and he was walking the halls of power. To be certain this was different from the quiet refinement of his culture, but the principle was the same. Whether it was European style or Oriental the needs of politics and propriety must be catered to. They would not be seated at table without the King present and he kept a watchful eye on the clock, noting the exact moment others began to sneak looks toward the door. In a week his personal purgatory would begin and until then he could only watch and wonder if he would deal with each day as gracefully as the King of Sanc. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened to admit Maxwell, beaming from ear to ear, seemingly not a care in the world as he apologised for being tardy and expressing how pleased he was to have made it to dinner before the King arrived. An irreverent flip of that glorious braid and a tongue in cheek comment on needing to tame it… and Milliardo entered, immaculately groomed, calm and with Pagan at his heels. "Necessity, thy name is deception." a murmur. "Arse covered." Duo winked. "Time and place, Duo!" ~ * ~ |
