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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: Milliardo + Relena Notes: Challenge 170. Baby Series 3 #283. Takes place approximately 5 hours following Do You Believe. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie //Why do they keep having to drag it up?// The offending magazine rested on the table, the brightly coloured cover drawing the eye. He had little doubt he would not be the only one in the house wishing the conscientious household staff had skipped this particular piece of morning reading. The succession of colour photos were obviously digitally enhanced; the originals would have been too grainy to adorn the front cover of the magazine. There would have been little footage from the war that would show any of the Gundams in all of their glory. Wing, Wing Zero, Deathscythe, ShenLong, Sandrock and Heavy Arms. Blessedly no Epyon, but in their ignorance they did not count that beast a Gundam. Heavy Arms and Sandrock meeting for the first time. Wing Zero over a backdrop of space. Wing somewhere over Earth, the background was too generic to pick. ShenLong… ah. Lake Victoria? Somewhere in Africa certainly, so either on the way to Lake Victoria or retreating. Gundams. The media just could not let sleeping dogs lie. They were like dogs worrying at a particularly delicious bone. A small dog with sharp teeth and a tenacious, stubborn nature worrying at a bone far too large and tough to be cracked and devoured in one or a dozen attempts. Like a terrier they kept on at the subject, digging, repeating what had been speculated a dozen times and more, then continuing to dig in quest of a juicy story. He ignored the magazine, glanced over the headlines of the morning papers and grunted, settling at the table with a shake of his head. It had been inevitable that the speech would stir it all up again. The Gundams, the war, White Fang and the Barton incident. Inevitable, but still… he was so tired of the questions, the speculation and the utter rubbish they printed in place of the facts. Not that he would give them those facts. Not now, not ever. They were not ready to learn what he knew. They were not ready to have their fond illusions of `knowing' crushed beneath the weight of reality. Besides, he was already labelled the Terror of Earth. Why would he want to be labelled a liar as well? And it would happen. He knew so much that others did not even suspect… and he would take it with him to the grave. It was better that way. Neither the media nor the people were ready to know half the truths buried in the war. Another magazine article espousing another theory on who designed the Gundams, who constructed them, how the financing was arranged, how the pilots were chosen and trained and… It was all garbage. Did the masses actually care how the Gundam's came to be? Give it a year and no media interest and he thought perhaps less than one percent of the population would actually be bothered reading. It was ancient history and they should let sleeping dogs lie. ~ * ~ |
