Disclaimer: As always, I don't own GW or it's characters.

How We Live

It was raining when he stepped off the shuttle onto the tarmac. The weather report he read on the way down into the stratosphere said it had been this way for a week now, with no end in sight. Earth's weather had been in turmoil in the past few years—a fact that scientists were blaming on all the debris and military-grade weaponry that had burned through the atmosphere in the time since the beginning of the mobile suit wars. Adding to the problems involved with the atmosphere was the hole that had been blasted through the middle of the planet itself, leading to a slow disruption of Earth's gravitational poles and the movement and temperature of the oceans, and a gradual disintegration and desiccation of the remaining landmasses, amongst much else. The changes, though subtle, were significant when compared to the long history of the planet. In short, the Earth was irreparably changed since mankind's final vicious war with itself had ended ten years prior.

Present day, the terraformation of Mars became an increasingly pressing topic of debate amongst both the Earth and Colonies. Privately, Heero Yuy knew that it was the only solution to maintain a terrestrial home planet for humans to return to; in time, Earth would become uninhabitable due to the wounds inflicted upon it in that most final of battles.

He did not bother with an umbrella as he left the shuttle behind, slinging his luggage over one shoulder as he made his way across the landing field to the spaceport and out into the city that acted as the center of the ESUN. It was easy to lose himself in the crowd, falling back on old instincts that told him to blend in with the populace and avoid any potential spies who might try to follow him. Realistically he knew that such people would be anything but interested in him these days – of those who might discover him to be a Gundam pilot, few had any regard in seeking him out, and fewer who would look at him as a source of relevant information. Gundam pilots were obsolete in this new world – a remnant of the past. It was assumed that most of the pilots lived – who could think otherwise after the Mariemeia Incident? – But they had faded into history as a memory to be acknowledged and then discarded. What purpose could they serve in this new era without mobile suits?

Still, old habits died hard.

The apartment he kept was listed under a false alias, kept for the purpose of his periodic visits down to Earth so that he could maintain an active cover without an uncomfortable amount of questions. His landlady believed he was a technical liaison that traveled between Earth and the Colonies, thus explaining his vast absences and allowing him to pay rent from remote accounts without questioning where the money originated. The apartment was located within short walking distance of the spaceport and only a block from the ESUN Central Block and Preventer Headquarters. Under the same alias, he maintained a private shuttle that allowed him to travel freely between the planet and space; Never mind that the shuttle was one he had personally rebuilt from the ground up using old military planes and mobile suit parts from Duo's salvage yard.

He walked casually down the street, wrapped in the midst of bodies that trickled toward the city center. In the distance he could see the buildings part to reveal the main plaza with its large monitor running through the day's most pressing news. Even from afar he could make out the images of Mars surrounded by several resource satellites and mechanic shuttles, followed by a panel of news anchors obviously arguing the work that was currently underway on the red planet. Too far to hear the audio, he read their lips instead.

…"a feat that has never been attempted before. How do we know this terraforming project will even succeed? Isn't this just one more politician's attempt at reelection?"

"I think we can all agree, Janet, that despite what happens on Mars in the coming future, the last thing Foreign Minister Relena Darlian is focused on is her need for votes in the next election. I do, however, agree that it's hard to know whether this undertaking will actually produce any results." Two of the anchors, a red-haired woman with a severe face and small eyes and an obese man with thinning hair and a red face, conversed on the screen. At the man's words, the woman sneered.

"I'll admit that the Foreign Minister has been an advocate of terraforming since the end of the Eve Wars, Don, but do you really believe she has no other investment in this project than a sense of duty to the people of Earth? Reports of the planet's decline didn't emerge until almost five years after the end of the war, but she's been pushing this agenda almost since her election as Vice Foreign Minister ten years ago! Not to call anyone naïve, but I have to say there's more going on behind the scenes here."

Don was shaking his head and smiling in a way that was more a bearing of teeth as Janet spoke, the other anchors looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Janet, I have to say…" Heero let the words travel to the back of his mind as the program flashed a recent picture of the Foreign Minister. Relena gazed out commandingly from behind a podium, blonde hair pulled up away from her face in a neat bun, her cream business suit pristine against the backdrop of the ESUN council chamber. In the background a man stood behind and slightly to the left of her, sandy hair cut short and combed back amidst vivid green eyes. Relena's left hand, curled around the side of the podium in the photo, wore two elaborate diamond rings.

She looked worn. Despite confident eyes and a passionate bearing, Heero could see the weariness in her face concealed behind a political mask that was flawless to any but those who knew Relena best. Her grip on the podium was just this side of white-knuckled, shoulders tense. The bun was a choice made for necessity, not grooming; she had pulled her hair back that way to appear professional when moments before it had most likely been unbound. Cerulean eyes were subtly sunken. The debates were taking their toll on her. The man behind her in the photo looked equally stressed, bright green eyes strained at the corners despite the encouraging smile on a well-formed mouth.

"…discuss this again next time, Janet. For now, we'll have to wait to see what the Minister reports on the terraformation project at her public address next week. I'd like to thank you all for sharing your views on the show tonight. Good night, ladies and gentleman. This is Don…"

Heero paused in the midst of the plaza to watch the remainder of the show as the anchor signed off for the night. By now the rain was falling faster and his clothes were soaked through. His apartment was north and just around the corner, but he continued east instead. By the time it began to downpour, he was pushing through the doors leading into the ESUN Towers.

The Towers stood at the center of an entire city block occupied solely by the ESUN and its related offices, the tallest structure in the city itself. The lower floors were occupied by the offices of councilors and various representatives from around the Earth Sphere, and provided conference rooms, meeting halls, auditoriums, and multipurpose rooms to conduct business between both Earth and space. The upper floors housed the leading officials such as the President and his staff, along with the Ministers and Colony leaders who came to do business with the Earth for extended periods and Preventer officials who worked to protect all parties. The Towers were a hub of activity and a symbol of cooperation between humans of both land and space.

Walking through the entrance, Heero nodded to the security guards standing just inside the main doors and bypassed the metal detectors wordlessly, the uniformed officers sparing him less than a glance. The hour was already late, meaning that most of the daily occupants of the building had already left for the night. He passed through the near-empty grand foyer and was beyond the main desk before a gape-mouthed guard who had watched the entire journey hurried forward to intercept him at the elevators.

"Sir, excuse me but I'll need to see some ID before I can let you go any further." He was younger, not that much older than when Heero had fought in the war, but he made a formidable sight reaching head and shoulders above the former pilot. Broad, open features, well-muscled but lean, with shrewd eyes that were neither accusatory nor judgmental. Relaxed stance. Confident, but with a polite demeanor. Inwardly, Heero approved.

Out of the corner of his eye, Heero could see that the guard at the reception desk had noticed the interception and was starting to approach to intervene. Subtly, so the younger man could not see, he waved the second man away and reached for the ID attached to his luggage, offering it to the boy all while sizing him up. To his credit, the guard took a long moment to study the card, eyes widening subtly, before handing it back to Heero and nodding. "My apologies, Agent Yuy, I didn't realize who you were. It's my first week."

"Name?" he asked as he returned his ID to his luggage.

"Leose, Sir. Kole Leose." Steady, unintimidated, appropriately subordinate.

"Hn. Don't apologize for doing your job. You are here to protect the leaders of the Earth Sphere and the Colonies; it is your duty to screen the people who walk in this building. And don't tell anyone how long you've been doing that job unless it is pertinent information asked of you by a superior – it makes your appear incompetent, when you are not." He waited for Leose to absorb the words before offering another word and continuing on to the elevators. As the doors pinged open, he could hear the officer at the desk speaking to Kole.

"I think that might be the closest thing to a compliment I've ever heard out of that man's mouth. Congratulations, kid!"

"…He's a Preventer?"

"Yup. Scares the shit out of ya, doesn't he?"

The doors slid shut and the elevator ascended, taking Heero with it.

It had been nearly six months since his last excursion to Earth. Une had been shuttling him between the Colonies for most of that time, trailing after whispers of unrest and maintaining order where others were unable to enact it. Most of his work was done from the shadows: a mechanical error that lead to an unfortunate discovery by the authorities; the carefully placed rumor to discredit all influence an activist held; the fatal malfunctioning of a war machine. Much of his work dealt with knowledge, and required patience and time. Over the past ten years he had willingly become the eyes and ears that bled information into the Preventer intelligence, and on occasion the stealth and muscle to cripple its enemies. Nevertheless, his hands remained unstained since the vow he had made a decade earlier in a wrecked bunker while pointing a gun at a child.

He still remembered the feel of arms catching him as he fell.

He emerged on one of the top floors and turned down a hallway that was almost completely made of glass windows. The windows opened up to several large offices, some with blinds drawn and most with their lights extinguished. At the end of the hall the far office took up what must have been an entire side of the building, most of it closed off from view by one of the few solid walls on the floor – an area that concealed what Heero knew to be a personal conference room for large meetings. The other half contained comfortable furniture arranged into a sitting area and a large desk with more comfortable chairs, filing cabinets, bookshelves, and another door that led into a bathroom. Behind the desk sat a familiar figure bent over a formidable stack of paperwork.

The office streamed light through its windows and open doorway, illuminating the hallway and drawing Heero down towards its source. Stepping just inside the doorway, he studied that prone form silently for several long moments.

She sat with both elbows on the desk, head cradled in one hand as she pored over the documents before her, the other flipping idly through the pages. Her hair was down tonight, slightly disheveled from running fingers through those long, silken strands as she performed her tedious task. Her suit coat had been thrown over the back of her chair, looking uncharacteristically rumpled, and below she wore an ivory blouse that was unbuttoned to reveal a lacy chemise. Her shoes – heeled black loafers – had been discarded next to the edge of her desk, and one long leg was curled beneath her so that he could see her knee peeking out from behind the desk. She looked exhausted.

"Long night?"

Relena was never a reactive person, but it almost made his lips quirk to see her nearly jump out of her skin. "Heero!" she exclaimed, hands fluttering to her heart, cerulean eyes large upon her face. "Goodness, you're going to give me a heart attack one day!"

He waited.

"You're soaked! Why is it you're so averse to umbrellas? I'm going to start telling the guards they can't let you in the building if you're not carrying one. Here, let me…"

She rose from her chair, papers forgotten, and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a large, soft towel that she then used to unceremoniously rub him down, muttering to herself as she relieved him of his duffle and forced him to remove his jacket. He had discovered years ago that she purposely kept towels and other supplies in her office for occasions such as this when he showed up unannounced and somehow lacking. Unfortunately, instead of simply offering the supplies for his use she often attempted to remedy the situation herself.

"Relena." Standing there motionlessly, he accepted the abuse for several moments until her hands slowed and she paused, looking up into his eyes with a vivid blush and wide eyes.

"Sorry, I'm doing it again…"

"Hn."

Sheepishly she handed him the towel. Then the emotion passed and she eyed him critically while he ran the towel over his hair. "You know, I wouldn't have to do that if you just carried an umbrella."

"Hn."

She rolled her eyes and returned to her desk, Heero following after and settling in one of the chairs across from hers. They had been meeting this way for years now: he would return to Earth suddenly and find her in her office at odd hours; she would welcome him as though the time had never passed. She eyed his wet clothes, no doubt debating whether to mention that he was ruining her upholstery, but ultimately sighed and looked back to the documents on her desk. "I was hoping I could get through this proposal tonight before I left. David hates it when I bring work home; he says I already take it with me everywhere I go, why do I have to bring it into the bedroom too?" She sighed again, ruffling through the papers without actually reading anything. Cerulean eyes rose to meet his, the exhaustion he had glimpsed earlier laid plain. "I feel like the Mars Project is becoming a battle greater than the Eve Wars."

"I've noticed."

"My brother says that the terraformation will take less time if we can add more teams and resources to the project, but with all the resistance we're getting from the Naturalists I'm worried we'll never get the support we'll need to complete it before Earth is no longer viable. People don't realize how real the planet's decline has become after the war; they think just because the apocalypse didn't occur the day after that nothing bad could possibly happen." Despite the sarcastic words, concern creased the space between her eyebrows and she turned her gaze outward to the city. The rain was still coming in torrents, causing the skyline to look hazy and ethereal through the glass.

"Most people on the planet haven't seen the damage first-hand. It's hard to accept something you aren't witness to yourself, especially on such a large scale. You're telling people that their planet won't support them any longer, even though it's been doing it for millions of years."

"The planet hasn't had a massive hole in it for millions of years," she said wryly. Heero grunted and they grew silent. Settling back into her chair, Relena ruffled through the papers for several minutes longer before throwing up her hands and pushing the stack of pages across the desk. "Alright, I'm done. I can't read another sentence tonight and still be sane come morning." She rose and pulled her jacket on, eyeing him with a glint in her eyes that Heero recognized well: studying him like she was sizing up a political heavyweight.

"How long have you been back?"

"Just arrived."

"Mm-hm. How long are you staying?"

"Une is concerned about all the controversy surrounding the terraformation project and your involvement as its prime advocate," he explained. Her lips pursed into a thin line. "She asked me to relocate down to the planet until further notice; at least until the debates die down and a consensus is reached. She requested my opinion as the situation progresses."

"To babysit me."

"To assess potential threats."

Relena scowled prettily at him and turned away to once again gaze out on the city. "David is going to have a fit," she grumbled. Heero frowned. She heaved yet another sigh and ran her fingers through her hair in a manner that he had come to memorize over the years. He watched as she inhaled and let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping as she forced herself to release the tension in her body. "He supports the cause itself; he's been an advocate of terraformation since I started my own campaign years ago. He just doesn't like to see me as the target. Lately we've been having arguments over how public my involvement in the project has become; he wants me to take a step back. It scares him to think that there are people angry enough to make threats against my life over something like the survival of mankind. He doesn't understand what it was like during the war, how mild this is compared to what we faced back then."

David Earlhelm was an Earth-based businessman whose political prowess could occasionally put Treize Khushrenada to shame. Like Quatre, he had been born and bred as the heir to his family's already formidable fortune, and since his rise to authority at eighteen had tripled the company's assets. He had bright green eyes, short sandy hair that was often combed back, and a tall, muscular build that was intimidating to his colleagues but appealing to women. Also like Quatre—and even more like Relena—he was unfailingly kind and genuine, with an unwavering degree of integrity. Money was a point of honor, not power—the Earlhelm family had begun modestly and reflected such values in its descendents. Heero suspected it was part of what had drawn the blonde-haired woman to the bright man who had been her husband for the better part of five years.

In truth, Heero liked and respected the man deeply.

Relena glanced over her shoulder to look at him, a peculiar expression on her face as she watched him. Heero remained in the chair across from her desk, eyes intent but shuttered against his thoughts.

"I wish I could make him understand that this is something I have to do, despite the risk."

An unspoken feeling passed between them as they studied one another: the princess and her soldier for so long that it was becoming hard to remember when they had assumed those roles. Something distant and nostalgic sparked in her eyes, longing that he dared not touch in the decade since Libra was destroyed. She rounded her desk and opened her mouth to speak. He rose to his feet before she could form the words.

"You should rest." She halted a step away, wavering on an edge he could touch with his fingers.

They had performed this dance many times before. It was a particular slant to her mouth; his careful neutrality; words that remained unspoken across years despite how easily they discussed the rest of the world. She would waver and he would rise to steady her, set her back on the path away from that edge that threatened them both. He knew at times that she resented him for it. Her eyes told him today was one of those days, his denial a wound that cut deeper every time he erected that professional wall between them. But it had always been his mission to protect her, even from herself—and especially from him.

His eyes caught the subtle movement as she twisted the diamond wedding band in circles around her left ring finger.

"It's getting late; I'll walk you downstairs." She hesitated, then nodded and moved to gather her things. Heero took the opportunity to slip back into his wet jacket and retrieve his duffle. It was in silence that they left her office.

They entered the elevator together and descended the building the same way he had entered. The foyer was all but deserted, only the security guards remaining at their posts. Relena bid them all goodnight by name, stopping briefly to offer small talk and thank them for their continuous hard work. The men showered her with grins and jokes that reflected the admiration so many civilians shared for the young Foreign Minister and brought a happy smile to her lips. Heero nodded a silent farewell when he finally escorted her out into the rain.

Their silence continued as they walked, rain beating a staccato rhythm against the fabric of Relena's umbrella. It was not quite a comfortable silence, too filled with heaviness between them, but it was silence they had suffered in the past and both were superb at overcoming old scars.

"I've always liked the rain on Earth," Relena offered quietly, holding out a hand to collect the fat drops. Within moments her skin was drenched. "There's something that they just can't recreate with the manufactured rain in the colonies; something sprinkler systems and weather modules will never be able to imitate. There's so much natural beauty on Earth. I want my descendents to be able to experience this for themselves."

He said nothing, let her voice her thoughts aimlessly as they meandered the streets of the city. She rambled on for some time about the state of the Earth, then about the citizens of both planet and space. He knew that her mind was spinning between the obstacles involved with the Mars Project and the private difficulties that had become a source of contention between her and her husband. If Heero had learned nothing more about Relena Darlian in the past decade, it was that speech was her outlet to vent. Words, when directed at the right parties, were a balm to the young politician. It was obvious that it had been some time since she had told anyone her frustrations when she was reduced to rattling off the names of the resource satellites that she hoped to recruit for the sake of the terraformation. Heero was content to listen.

Ten years sounded like an eternity to most twenty-something adults, but to Heero it had passed in the blink of an eye, scattering the pilots to every corner of the Earth and space and altering their lives in ways none of them could have foreseen. He felt as though he drifted in a space apart and that the changes had happened overnight, still expecting to receive a mission from Doctor J that sent him rushing off to unearth Wing from its concealment. It was a struggle to realize that he had become obsolete, no longer a Gundam Pilot or even an assassin. Always, a part of him itched to be a soldier, but Treize's final victory had ensured that soldiers were no longer necessary; not the type of soldier that was woven into every fiber of his body since he could remember.

Instead, to battle the restlessness that crawled beneath his skin, he kept busy. Sometimes it involved precious days like this, where he materialized for a time into the ever-present life of the ESUN's Foreign Minister. For the rest, Une was never short of tasks she was happy to set on him as a free agent of Preventer, and they were often the assignments too dangerous or delicate to risk exposure in the fragility of the new era. She respected his need for freedom and solitude to fulfill the mission as he deemed fit, and he suspected that she understood his need to keep occupied; the Preventer leader never quite seemed to take a vacation herself.

None of the pilots did.

Over time the five men kept tabs on each other, their paths inevitably crossing over time despite their vast differences in occupation and lifestyle. Every few years the women that had somehow become entwined with the lot of them drew them back together for a reunion. The last had been a dinner party three years ago insisted upon by Relena and hosted by Dorothy Catalonia to which Heero vowed never to be a part of again. Beyond that, they came across each other haphazardly as they continued to work behind the scenes for the preservation of peace and repression of conflict. On those rare occasions, they made the effort to exchange news and share knowledge with one another. In small ways, they maintained the discipline that had structured their lives for so many years.

Distantly, he acknowledged a trip to the desert might be warranted.

They eventually arrived at her apartment after a walk that took far longer than the ten minutes from the Towers, Relena having fallen silent again some minutes before. This time, the silence was peaceable, calm. A doorman waited just inside the glass-paneled opening to the building, bright lights streaming out from the vestibule to flood the street below. Heero stopped at the foot of the stairs as she started to climb. Relena turned to face him, delicate fingers resting on the black iron railing. Around her, the rain created a misty halo.

"Good night, Relena," he bid, at once abrupt and predictable. They had parted just like this many times over the years, the fact understood between them that he would return again, whether it was the next day or the next year. He turned to go.

"Come have dinner," she called, voice almost inaudible. The shadows cast by the building made it impossible to make out her expression.

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"David is out of town tonight. Come eat with me. If I know anything it's that you haven't eaten a bite since before your flight."

He hesitated; heard the strange lilting note in her voice, that wavering fear. "Relena—"

"Please, Heero." She took a step down toward him, drew a deep breath. "Please."

He felt the scales tip in his head as she pleaded with him, booted feet moving before his brain acknowledged that the decision had been made. Relena's eyes lit. She turned to walk with him as he approached, and the taciturn pilot smirked subtly when her smile all but blinded the doorman. Together, they disappeared into the elevator that would take them upstairs, Heero pondering his decision as they ascended.

Author Notes: So, fair warning, I don't know where I'm going with this or even how far I'm actually going to continue it. This is something of a sequel to the one-shot "What We Know" that I wrote several years ago. I hope you enjoy it, there will most likely be more as I'm not writing it like a stand-alone. When that more comes, we'll see... However, this is NOT a Relena-cheats-on-her-bastard-husband fanfic, or even a Relena-cheats-on-her-husband-with-Heero fanfic. Again, fair warning if that's what you're looking for.

~Sar