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"Dangerous Valentines"Written By: Nix Winter Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I think Bandai does in the US. I writing this story as original and fan fic because I couldn't make up my mind and well, Heero and Duo are just more fun. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Angst, Citrus, Violence Pairings: 1x2x1 Summary: After EW by quite a bit. The boys are
late twenties. Heero is a doctor. Duo is Preventer. They're married.
Chapter Five Malory Broadwin had never killed anyone before. She
was a too slender woman with a touch of silver at her temples, hazel
eyes, and a wedding ring on a chain around her neck. Her hair had
been a raven black once, or so Sean had always said. His father had
been a mail carrier. He'd been a mail carrier He'd been a muslim. She'd been Catholic. Her father had sworn to kill them both on their wedding day. Instead he'd gotten completely toasted and slept with the new priest, who was completely male, supposedly abstinent, except for excessively plied with wine and Irish whiskey. It had been, in retrospect, a very, very good day. They had ten years. She got a degree in sociology from Oxford. There wasn't work in their town though, so mostly she just made him lunch every day and wandered with him on his mail route. Occasionally she'd get in a mood and work on a study of some sort, always with the hope that this one would be useful enough, get noticed enough, and she'd get a grant. She published a few times, but really, it was an awful lot of work and not nearly as much fun or joy as teasing Aman as he delivered the mail. A research project was how she first came in contact with the Holy Church of the Unification. They seemed almost like one of those churches that start in someone's living room as a bunch of friends sit around talking about how they could get out of paying taxes by being a commune. Such a thing would only be possible in the United States any way. In the UK they were quite full up with Protestant and Catholics (despite the best attempts of each respective group), Druids and Muslims weren't far behind, but the point was that a new religion cooked up by someone with a video game controller in one hand and an energy drink in the other was hardly going get tax exempt status anywhere else. It started as a quaint little faith. The end of world wasn't really the end, just a renewal. Salvation belonged to the chosen. Anyone could be chosen, if they had the means to be useful. If you weren't smart, useful, talented... you were turning your back on God. They claimed Jesus, Mohammed, Moses, Buddha, Matsu, and Benzaiten. No one took them seriously. Malory did not get funding for her research. Then they stole the cure. It was the cure for the most devastating affliction humanity had ever known. A slow creeping affliction that claimed everyone, slowly broke down muscle, weakened bones, destroyed immune systems, robbed the skin of elasticity, the eyes of sight, food of flavor, stole sexual pleasure away - this affliction crumpled up the best and brightest of everyone, grinding them until they were ashes or moldering bones. The cure.... Their prophet, bent and only half alive, took the cure on live webcast. The first day there was nothing. He promised them if they waited... had faith... they would see. The second day he smiled brighter. The third day his head was shaved of white hair and his beard grew in fiery red. Returning muscle broadened his shoulders. One month into his transformation, the every person watched as he leaved towards the screen and declared that salvation came through one God only. One of the main problems with untested medical treatments is that they have unexpected side effects. Harry Sanders thought he was god, or at the very least the pure voice of God. He graciously allowed the rest of humanity twelve hours to acknowledge him the undisputed King of Heaven and Earth. Quiet suddenly the Protestants, Atheists, and just about everyone else found they could get along with each other very well indeed. The wars lasted four years. During that time, her beloved mail carrier with his dark eyes and innocent adoring smile had been rounded up, given one chance to deny his god and and accept Sanders. His denial had earned him, what she had hoped was a quick and merciful bullet between his eyes. She'd told herself that he died content in his love for his god and his wife, without betraying himself or suffering. Aman had never felt fear as far as she could have ever told. He loved her and they'd loved life. The war ended. Harry died in a mecha fight when all he wanted was to destroy the Earth so that he could remake it. Heero Yuy had fought with such speed and ferocity, beyond human endurance, and all humanity watched the last great battle. She'd watched. Wing Zero fell back to Earth like Icarus, debris from the defeated god raining around him, as his mecha's wings tried to slow his descent. Great white angel wings of metal that turned red hot in the atmosphere. Deathscythe dove towards the falling angel. The demon mecha locked itself to the angel, sealing their fates together. His thrusters fired, fighting gravity and inertia. Once they were deeper in the atmosphere the demon deployed thick black landing chutes. The wind grabbed them and nearly tore his shoulders off. Vidbots tracked the two as they hit the sand on a Maui beach. Glass sizzled and popped around them and humanity held its breath. Deathscythe staggered, fell to the sand, but out crawled a boy maybe not even old enough to be out of his teens. He had a wild long braid that whipped around him in the wind, but red human blood running down his face. Wearing his space suit, except for the helmet, he sprayed down the other mecha with fire extinguisher. He scrambled up and and forced the hatch on the angel styled mecha and pulled an unconscious and battered Heero Yuy back into the living world.
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