This is my 2011 entry to the Church of Lemons. That means it contained 1xR sexual content. You have been warned.

It's dedicated to the one I love. I do not know how the story ends.

It's Been So Long

By Zapenstap

His was the first face Relena saw when she stepped upon the stage. In a sea of faces, his stood out.

At first, she thought she had hallucinated.

She did that often, imagining she saw him when she didn't, remembering his eyes whenever she saw a pair of rare, dark blue irises shaded beneath brown hair. It happened in her loneliest hours, after wishing to see him, and always around her birthday, when she was most likely to see him. But today wasn't her birthday, and she hadn't been thinking of him. So his face caught her by surprise.

Relena was a diplomat. That she felt lonely might surprise some people. She was popular—respected, admired, well-loved by almost everyone, but her popularity was public, professional and surface-level. There was little intimacy in her relationships. Relena-The-Woman was overlooked, so much so that she often forgot herself. Well, it wasn't really forgetting. It was deliberate—a necessary reaction to Who She Was. It was how she coped. Whenever she remembered, she thought of Heero, and then she would start needing him.

She scanned the crowd again to be that what she had seen was not just a projection of her subconscious desire, but there was no mistake. It was Heero, standing shoulder to shoulder with men in business suits and women in skirts. He was wearing street clothes, dark jeans, sneakers, and a black utility jacket with an upturned collar that partially hid his neck. The informality made him stand out, but in a way that looked harmless. He was anything but harmless, but his hands were shoved in his pockets, and there was no tension in his shoulders. He looked relaxed—as relaxed as he ever looked anyway.

A social visit?

Her heart leaped.

His eyes were on her. His expression was pleasant—faintly admiring without giving too much away. She smiled before she could catch herself.

Be careful, Relena.

But warding away emotion was a futile effort. She had seen him. A reaction—the uncoiling of her carefully erected poise—was unavoidable. She always reacted to Heero exactly the same way, no matter how much time had passed. She could already sense it, that familiar, ecstatic, slightly spastic, bubbly feeling rising up and up and up from somewhere deep inside her until she felt buoyant, floating, soaring.

I might as well, she thought abstractly.

She allowed herself to meet his eyes. She smiled tacitly to communicate her assent. He understood. She watched as he nodded, turned his back, and dissolved into the crowd.

The ceremony was just a commemoration of a newly constructed courthouse. There was a speech, not by her, some applause, the cutting of a ribbon, and some comments for local journalists. In little over an hour she was leaving the stage, but instead of calling her driver to pick her up, she rounded the corner, following a black iron fence until the crowds dwindled away behind her. She walked without destination, just kept going until she felt she was alone, and then leaned back against the fence to wait.

She didn't have to wait long. She had no idea how Heero tracked her, and probably didn't want to know, but as soon as she was alone he found her within minutes, walking toward her from the opposite direction.

He didn't say anything.

"It's been awhile," she said as he approached. "I haven't heard from you in months, Heero."

He still didn't say anything.

Relena wrestled with irritation. He had to know how she felt. She had told him often enough. She had told him, very specifically, how she longed to see more of him, that she understood he was doing important work, but that she wanted to see him and it bothered her that he never sent her any messages, even just to let her know he was well. His prolonged absences caused her to worry. When she explained, trying not to sound needy, he always listened, but he never changed. And he never apologized, not in all the years she had known him. She still wasn't sure what that meant. She wasn't even sure she had any right to be upset about it, but she couldn't help feeling upset.

"What brings you here?" she asked when he didn't respond.

"You," he said. His blue eyes stared straight into hers. "I wanted to see you."

She caught her breath. There it was. Just like that. A few words and he spun her emotions about. It was enough to make her dizzy. She smiled. She couldn't help it. Suddenly, she couldn't remember why she had been annoyed. All she wanted was just to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his neck. She was just so glad he was here.

But she didn't. She just stared at him, heart hammering, feeling like she was going to burst.

He began walking. Like a lamb, she followed, trotting in low, swing-back heels to catch up and then slowing to a stroll at his side. He was the only one who had ever made her react that way, or feel that way. She felt inexplicably happy. Walking with Heero made her happy. She felt such happiness, she could have laughed.

She didn't do that either. They walked in comfortable silence. Heero was always comfortable.

The walkway led to a garden. The gate wrapped around it, the delicate iron bars obscuring a view of rich green grass, waving walkways, pruned trees, a trickling stream, and bushes blooming with flowers. Heero stopped at the gate, hands in his pocket. Relena looked at him for direction, but he didn't speak.

"Do you want to go in the garden?" she asked. "The gate is probably unlocked."

"No."

"What would you like to do then?"

He looked troubled. "I don't have any plans. I heard you were here and I was in the area, so I thought I would see you. I have to send a dispatch in a half hour."

Relena tried not to look as crestfallen as she felt. "Oh."

They stood side by side for a few moments, hands almost but not quite touching, staring at the garden through the black iron gate.

She turned slightly toward Heero. "Can I come with you?" she asked.

He looked at her.

"While you send your dispatch," she said. "You'll do it remotely, won't you, from a computer at where you are staying? I'll come with you. I don't mind waiting."

"It's not a nice place."

"A dirty hole in the wall?"

He smiled. "Not what you're used to."

"That's fine," she said. "A hotel room or—"

"It's a rented room in a house, but I don't think you want—"

"I said it's fine," she repeated, and smiled. "I'll just watch you work. That's all. I've been waiting so long to see you. Please?"

Bravely, she reached out to take his hand, slipping her fingers against his palm. His fingers closed over hers and squeezed. Her heart leapt. Without a word, he turned, pulling on her hand, leading her away.

The house was located in a neighborhood that was still under development so there weren't many people around. Relena thought it looked somewhat like a ghost town, almost spooky, but she supposed that was why Heero had chosen it. It was quiet and out of the way and probably affordable. Heero led her up the walkway and let them both inside. He showed her the kitchen and the living room and then the bedroom, which itself was little more than a bed, a television, and a nightstand, but it was very Heero—clean and orderly and quiet.

Relena removed her shoes and deliberately sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and curling her legs partially under her hip. Heero eyed her askance, but did not object when she turned on the television and flipped to the news. Without comment, he pulled a case out from beneath the bed and opened it, revealing a laptop computer. He lifted it from the case and climbed up on the bed beside her, propping the laptop on his knees.

While the news recapped local events, Relena stole glances at him—this man whom she rarely saw but who meant so much to her. He was beautiful, as perfectly attractive as a person could be. She contemplated that deep, considering look in his eyes and then trailed her gaze down the outline of his face to the curve of his jaw.

It was impossible to concentrate on something like the news while sitting beside him. She wanted to be closer, as close as she could be. She tried to reason out what it was that drew her so inexplicably.

At times, she had tried to justify her attraction as an unhealthy obsession. She had told herself that she was just physically attracted to him, that lust must be clouding her judgment. Other times, she rebuked herself for caring too much about him, telling herself that he wouldn't appreciate it if he knew. She also told herself not to idolize him, that she admired his strength too much, and depended on him too much as a source from which to draw resolution. She felt all of those things, but none of them quite encapsulated or explained her feelings.

At heart, Heero resonated to her a sense of sameness of soul. He was a complement to her. He was intriguing and challenging. They often disagreed, sometimes combatively, but never to the point of bitterness. They always seemed to understand each other. She really didn't know how to explain all of the things he made her think and feel, except to say that he made her think and feel many things, more than anyone else ever had.

Whatever it was, it made her desperate to touch him. She realized abruptly that she was staring. He noticed, turning to look at her.

"Can I… Can I put my head on your shoulder?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, softly, his eyes looking right into hers.

He turned back to the laptop.

Relena hesitated, momentarily indecisive, but then scooted closer. Something about it was difficult at first, but as she settled her head against Heero's shoulder, a feeling a great relief swept through her. She closed her eyes, enveloped in an ocean of calm, letting the tension drain away. She wanted to soak it up. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want him to go.

At length, Heero stopped typing. Relena opened her eyes, hazily watching the screen of his computer as the icon of a mailing envelope tilted at an angle and disappeared into nothing. Heero had sent his dispatch. His hands stopped moving, fingers hovering over the keys. Relena had the implication that he was thinking just before he closed the lid of the laptop and set the computer on the nightstand. The shift in body weight forced Relena's head off of Heero's shoulder. She sat up, blinking.

His eyes caught hers. They were still soft, still deep blue, still staring into hers, and something in them-

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

The question caught her by surprise. She had never been asked that before, but often fantasized about it. She had not imagined Heero would ask. She nodded even as she was still thinking of it, trying to process it. His lips caught hers before she was quite ready.

Heaven.

Heero's kiss made her forget everything. She kissed him back, softly, hardly daring to believe it was real. He shifted his weight closer to her. His hand wrapped around her back.

"You're hot," he said abruptly. His tone reflected surprise.

She opened her eyes.

'Hot' was an understatement. She was sweating beneath her clothes.

"Do you mind if I take off my sweater?" she gasped. She was aware of how that sounded, but she was roasting. It wasn't the temperature in the room.

"Go ahead."

Avoiding his face, she stripped the sweater over her head and tossed it at the foot of the bed. The blouse she wore underneath was sleeveless with a V-neck collar. She leaned back against the headboard, eyes closed, letting the air cool her fevered skin.

"I didn't come here to seduce you," she said. " I—"

"I know that," he replied.

She felt flustered. Truthfully, she wanted to seduce Heero. She wanted to feel his body on top of hers, to hold him and feel the weight of him. But she couldn't. It wouldn't be right. "Heero, you should know how I feel about you. I—"

"I know how you feel."

She trailed off.

"You love me," he said.

Her eyes snapped open. He was sitting beside her, one knee propped up, twisting at the torso to look at her. His gaze pierced deeply.

"I've always been able to see it," he said.

Her eyes darted away from his face. She felt flushed, embarrassed, exposed.

"You don't have to hide it. Relena, look at me."

She did.

His eyes were blue. So very blue. And liquid soft. They seemed to be drawing her in. What she saw in them both exhilarated and frightened her.

"You must think poorly of me," she said. "I've chased you so hard. I must be so annoying. I—"

"Relena, you are an amazing woman, the most amazing person I have ever met. You have to know I think very highly of you. I have never respected anyone so much as you."

She floundered, unable to speak. She felt deeply moved, and even more lost.

"I don't want you to think I'm cheap," she mumbled. "To come here. It's so obvious."

"I would never think that. If anyone is cheap, it's me."

She felt a twinge of panic. "What are you saying?" she demanded.

"I've dreamed often of being with you," he said quietly. "I have thought deeply about it. I have wanted to tell you how I felt for a long time. I keep missing the opportunity."

Her heart was beating so hard she had to strain her ears to hear Heero's voice.

"I love you," he said quietly.

She couldn't breathe.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," he said. "If you'll let me kiss you—"

She sat up and leaned forward, grazing Heero's lips with her own. He accepted them. This time, she opened her mouth. She wasn't sure whose tongue started exploring the other's mouth first, but it deepened immediately, and frantically. She didn't want it to stop.

Heero pulled back just long enough for her to glimpse his eyes—the startled look, and lust, and hesitation.

She shut him up by kissing him again. He opened his mouth and she thrust her tongue deep inside, dueling with his tongue, not caring how aggressive she was being. Her body acted on its own accord, but it was her heart pulling the strings. It was like she was trying to get inside him, and it still wasn't enough. She snaked her arms around his shoulders and pulled her body close to his. Her nails dug across his shoulders. His kiss roughened. His hands raked her back and sides, and then over her front, palming her breasts over her shirt.

She gasped, jerking back, eyes flying open.

He stopped. She stared into his eyes.

"Heero," she panted. "What do you mean by take advantage of me?"

His eyes dropped away from her face.

"You mean to leave again, don't you?"

He didn't contradict her.

She sat up, reaching for his face, holding his head between both of her hands so that he had to look deeply into his eyes. "I love you. Do you hear me?"

She could see his feelings in his eyes. He was moved as she had been, deeply… but there was no hesitation. "Yes."

Her heart fluttered. "Yes, you are going to leave? Or yes, you know I love you?"

"Both."

Her feelings shook as if struck like gong. "But why?" she demanded. "And don't tell me you have to work! I understand that. I work hard too. You know that better than anyone."

He was silent. Maybe that had been his excuse.

"Heero, I don't want to physically hold you in one place. I would love you no matter what you have to do or where you have to go."

"That's not the problem."

"Then what is the problem? If you really love me-"

"Relena, I am just not ready."

"To love me-"

"Yes."

"-or to be loved?"

"That too."

"I don't understand."

He didn't answer.

She didn't really need him to. She did understand. She understood him all too well. Her affection for him ran deep—deeper than she had even realized before this moment. He didn't know if he could love her. He didn't want a relationship if it just meant he was going to disappoint her. Almost compulsively, she kissed his face, first on the forehead, then his eyes, his cheeks, his chin. He let her, eyes closed, soaking it in.

"I know you've been through a lot," she said. "I just keep thinking that someday—"

"Me too," he said quietly. "I told you. I imagine being with you. I do."

"It's been so long already. What is it that you are waiting for?"

"I don't know."

"You must have some idea."

"The ability to love you the way you deserve."

Relena was torn by this answer.

"I want to protect you," he said. "In this case, I feel I can best do that by staying away from you."

She felt knifed.

"Don't," she said, releasing his head. "Don't say that."

"I make you happy," he said quietly. "I can see that I do, but you will expect more from me than I can give, and I will make you unhappy if I stay."

"I won't be unhappy."

"You will."

She felt frustrated. What was he thinking she expected?

"Don't you feel happy with me now?" she asked.

"I'm not sure I even know what happiness is. But if I am ever happy, it is with you."

"That's—" She fell silent, considering what he meant, and life he had led that would lead to such a statement.

"Relena, I don't know who I am in this world anymore. I don't know where my future is headed. I can't know how you fit into it. I can't be what you want me to be until I figure that out."

"We could figure it out together."

"I have to do it myself. I need to be alone to do it."

"Then why did you tell me you love me?"

"Because I do. I wanted you to know."

She wasn't sure what to think. That Heero loved her was something she had always wanted to hear, something she had wished for on dark, lonely nights. She had even thought that if she couldn't have him, she still wanted to know. Now that she knew, the pain of being without him was exponentially more unbearable. She was a fool.

"You don't want to take advantage of me," she said. "But you'd be physical with me, if I hadn't stopped you?"

"If you want. I'd love to make love to you, Relena, but I don't want to hurt you. That is the last thing I want. Whatever you are willing to do, we can do. You just have to understand that I am not in a place where I can take care of you."

She bit her lip. "That isn't fair."

"I know."

Relena struggled against her feelings. Heero was a rock she knew she couldn't move. He would stubbornly hold on to the path he had chosen no matter what arguments she threw against it. Worse, she admired him for it. What he was saying made sense to her. If she hadn't wanted him so badly, if she had been an objective observer, she would agree that time and space was exactly what he needed. But she did want him to take time and space from her. She wanted him near more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

"Are you seeing other women?" she asked.

"No."

"Do you want to?"

"It's not something I'm thinking about."

She bit her lip. "Then why—"

"Relena, I know you. You want me completely." His tone had a sobering effect. "You want me heart and soul. You want me forever."

She shrugged uncomfortably. That was true.

"I'm not ready for that," he said. "What I could be to you right now isn't want you want. You deserve what you want."

She couldn't argue with that logic.

But she did realize something. It was her fault. It was because of her ideals that he didn't want to be close to her, just like everyone and everyone else in her life. By being Who She Was, she had driven him into thinking that any step in her direction was some kind of strenuous trek. She was so serious as to be completely paralyzing.

She berated herself. This was why she was alone. She couldn't play it casual and cool like other women. Maybe she should just take him as a lover. Or maybe she ought to have pretended, as other girls did, that the man she fancied wasn't worth having, just to prick his ego. She could have acted flippant, like he wasn't worth her time, like if he wanted her to bother with him, he would have to work for it, just to keep her interest. Maybe, if she had been more of a challenge, or more of a mystery, or just…more…Heero would have responded to her differently.

But Relena was not good at deceit or dishonesty. Pretending Heero was disposable to her, or that she thought poorly of him, was a falsehood. Worse, she felt that the sort of girls who played that game often weren't really 'playing' anything. They really did only have a passing interest, which waned when the pursuit did. No one who felt the way she felt about Heero would be able to act like that.

Even so, she was overcome with the feeling that it was her fault.

"I messed it up," she said. She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "Didn't I?"

"No," he whispered, and gathered her in an embrace. She clung to him, feeling safe in his arms, stemming the flood of tears against her shoulder. "It's not you. Don't change. I love who you are—your standards, your morals, everything. Please don't think it's something you are lacking. I'm just not ready."

"How long?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"I don't know."

"Give me an idea."

"Five years."

Five years? She pulled her head up. That was too much. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him for that long. Or being alone that long. Or him being alone that long. She didn't see any purpose in it.

"Heero, that is ridiculous. You can't possibly know what you will want in five years. I don't think you can know what you will want in five months."

He didn't say anything.

"Heero, I don't know what you are thinking I want from you. I understand that you need space to think some things over, but I just want you near me, like we are right now. I understand why it hasn't happened before. We were too young when we met. I wasn't ready for the way I felt about you then either. And I understand that you are not sure where your life is going and that you want to figure that out, but you've already been avoiding me for years. Another five years is too long."

He didn't say anything. That was his way of disagreeing.

She didn't know what to say. She knew Heero's experience loving and being loved was patchy at best. She didn't know how he was supposed to measure his experience against what she dreamed of. She could understand how the mere effort would panic and confuse him. Still…

"Heero," she whispered. "I know it's important to you to do everything perfectly. I am the same way. But I'm not asking for perfection. I just want—"

"I know what you want," he said. "And I know you would lower your expectations for me out of love. I don't want you to do that."

"But…" She fell silent, feeling frustrated.

He didn't want to fail her. In principle, that was good. But he was also saying that to avoid failing, he wasn't going to try. He wasn't going to do anything. He wasn't going to make any effort at all. That was bad. He wanted to stand in place in five years, which meant he would be in the same place, unchanging, five years from now. That was the opposite of what she wanted. If he did that, then five years from now he would just say he needed another five years.

"You're perfectly capable-" she began.

"I'm not," he said hastily. "I'm really not. Relena, you have to believe me. I know what could be between you and me. I know that it would be good, paradise perhaps, but I also know where I am at, and right now, I'm not able to be with you."

Several moments passed in silence.

"What do you want me to do?" she demanded. "Do you want me to wait?"

"No," he said. "Don't do that. It isn't fair to you. I don't want you to wait. I am afraid I will disappoint you. I know I will disappoint you. I don't want to hurt you like that."

She squeezed her eyes shut. That was no good. She was hurt. She felt sick inside.

She struggled to find something positive, something that would ease the pain and loss threatening to overwhelm and destroy her.

"You think it would be paradise?"

"Yes," he whispered. She was caught by the intensity—and certainty—in his voice. "You don't know how often I think of it. Relena, you mean more to me than anyone. I love you, but I'm not ready."

Every word was a caress and a thorn.

He's still running, she thought. That was their story. He's running away from me.

There was nothing she could do. She could chase him or walk her own way. She had done both, off and on, for years, to no avail. She supposed she could shut the door, banish him from her forever, but she didn't want to do that. She didn't even think she could. A future with Heero would be paradise. She felt it keenly, as deeply as had ever felt anything, and equally sure that a future without him would be misery, because she was living it now—loneliness and isolation stacked days on end into forever, with no hope of respite. But he seemed comfortable with that. She realized with a painful start that he was comfortable with that.

"I don't want to give up," she said stubbornly. "I don't want to let you go. I want to be loved."

His fingers threaded through her hair. "You are loved."

She closed her eyes. How could that feel so good and so bad at the same time? "I want someone who is going to care for me. You don't take care of me, Heero."

"You should have that," he agreed. "You should be with someone who can make you happy."

This was such a shocking thing for him to say that it jolted her out of self pity. "You love me, but you want to lose me to someone else?"

She wasn't sure how likely that was. She had never met anyone who made her feel anything close to the way Heero made her feel, but that didn't mean it was impossible.

His reaction to her question was telling. He hesitated. Then he looked stricken.

"Heero!" she gasped. "If I do ever love someone else anywhere close to way I love you, I will never want to see you again. I won't be able to have you in my life, not even in the sporadic way you are now. Don't you understand that?"

She had caused him anxiety. She wasn't sure how she knew. Something had changed and she could feel it. She could sense his emotions. There was a tension there—an aching uneasiness, like an explosion of frantic energy in a tiny, locked box.

Heero wanted her to be happy, and he didn't want to lose her, but he didn't want to be with her. The thought of losing her frightened him, but the fear wasn't any more motivational than the fear he felt at being with her. He was deadlocked. There was anxiety, but no determination. Relena felt sure that if she did choose someone else, Heero would make the same decision he was making now: to do nothing.

For a moment, Relena willed herself to believe she could fall in love just as hard with another man, that it would happen soon, and that she would forget about Heero and be happy. Inexplicably, she started to cry.

Heero reached up to touch her tears, wiping them away from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm thinking about being happy with someone else. I just—"

"I don't know why either," he said. He sounded honest. This upset her further.

"I don't mean to be so emotional!"

"I like how emotional you are."

For some reason, that panged her—a sharp, sweet stab of love and longing. "I want to be with you, Heero. I love you."

There was a faint shimmer to his eyes. "I want to be with you too. I love you too. I'm just not—"

She kissed him. She knew it wouldn't change anything, and that she should resist given what he was telling her, but she couldn't help it. She was confused. She was angry. She felt hopeless and helpless and lost, but she felt love for this man and a desire to be close to him more than she felt anything. Heero's hand cradled the back of her head. His tongue drove deep into her mouth. She felt him penetrate her even deeper, not physically, but in some emotional place that had never felt the touch of another human being. Her body shook from the intensity of it. He rubbed her shoulders, caressed the back of her neck, and pulled her against him, all the while kissing her until she couldn't think.

She was hot, hotter than she had been wearing her sweater. She wanted more of him. She wanted to feel more. Her hands dove under Heero's shirt, reaching for his skin. He was hot too, but he felt cool compared to the fire inside her; his stomach was smooth and muscular and divine. She knew it was a mistake, but she didn't want to stop and she knew he wouldn't object. She slid both hands up his chest under his shirt, her palms sliding against his bare skin all the way to his collarbone. It was a clear signal.

She pushed him back on the bed. Lying prostrate beneath her, Heero swallowed visibly, breathing hard. Then he half sat up and stripped off his shirt.

His body was beautiful. It was more than she could take in. She hadn't known it would look so good or that she would react so wildly to it. She didn't think much. She met his eyes, saw his attention fixated on her, and pulled her blouse up over her head and tossed it on the floor.

But I'll stop there, she thought desperately. I just want to feel him. I want to know what is skin feels like, what his body feels like. Then I'll stop.

She was still thinking this when Heero palmed her left breast over her bra without any kind of by-your leave. Relena gasped, not objecting. His lips kissed her skin. His tongue licked her collarbone. Then he pulled the top of her bra down and tongued her breast. It happened all at once. Relena let out a sound she hadn't realized she could make. There was nothing fake about it. Her whole body was on fire.

When she moaned, he reversed their positions, pushing her onto her back. She had thought to lie on top of him and just feel him against her, so being suddenly underneath him surprised her. The physical power he had over her in this way might have alarmed her, but she was too intoxicated by emotion and sensation colliding together to care. His touch was extraordinary. Her eyes fluttered open and closed as their stomachs touched, melding together, fitting like pieces made to be interlocked. His legs intertwined with hers and she felt his hardness—trapped by his jeans—against her thigh. That should have alarmed her too, but what she felt was damp. She was soaking.

This never happened. Never.

God, she thought in a panic. I don't know what to do.

She knew what she wanted: Heero. All of him. Right now. Forever. But he didn't want her, not like that. If she gave in, even a little, he would make love to her, and it would be the most divine event of all her life. But then he would leave.

What should she do?

He moved, pushing his hardness against her. She gasped at the sensation, imagining more than what was happening—both of them naked, Heero pressing inside her, looking into her eyes as she let him into her body, panting in her ear, the way it would feel…

She let out a little moan, throwing her head back on the mattress.

He gathered her head with his hands, thumbs circling her cheeks. "Do that again," he whispered.

"What?" she gasped.

"Let go."

She opened her eyes. He was watching her face intently, his eyes heated.

"I can't," she said.

"You want to."

"I know I want to!"

"You're tense."

"I'm not tense. We can't do this."

"You are tense."

"Fine. You're right. I'm tense. But that's not the problem. I'm lonely. God, Heero, I'm so lonely. And it's your fault. You don't understand how that hurts me. I—"

"I do understand."

"Then for God's sake, Heero, why do you do this to me? I've loved you for years. You make me feel like no one ever has. I want to be around you all the time, but I never see you. Don't you know what you mean to me?"

She shifted, moving her body beneath him so that her thigh pushed sensuously between his legs. He gasped, his eyes opening wide only to soften into a smolder. He gazed at her with unfiltered lust. It was an expression she had never seen on his face. She treasured it instantly. She kissed him deeply, moving her body rhythmically against his hardness.

She was startled when the hand that had previously cradled her head gripped her hair at the roots and tugged. She cried out. He groaned, his lips on her throat.

"My God, Heero."

"Let me make you come," he said.

"What?"

She understood him, but she hadn't expected him to say that. The hand not holding her hair trailed down her body to between her legs. She felt it, but didn't look away from his face.

"It will feel so good," he whispered.

"Don't," she said pathetically.

He didn't stop. She felt his hand dip between her legs.

"I want to watch you. I won't do anything else."

A lie if she ever heard one. But she just stared into his face, tempted beyond reason. She wanted to 'let go' as he put it, to give in to how she felt and what she wanted. But she knew she would regret it, and it would lead to more. She was thinking this, resolutely, when his fingers pressed between her legs and started to rub her.

Blinding pleasure wiped away her senses. She closed her mouth, reveling in the climbing sensation for two seconds, three seconds, four seconds, and then, just before it accelerated to a place where she did not think she could stop him, she shifted her weight just enough so that his fingers were no longer on the right spot. She kept up the pretense for a few moments. It still felt good, but the confounding haze of pleasure dissipated until she was able to grab his hand and stop him from touching her.

"No," she said. Still holding his hand, she sat up and rolled Heero onto his back again.

She paused on the mattress, hair mussed and clothes askew. She should get off the bed and leave immediately. This was her break. She knew it.

But Heero looked so beautiful lying there, naked to the waist, his eyes closed, breathing deeply.

She was straddling his hips. Just a slight shift positioned her body so that she could feel him pressing against her, right where his hand had been before. She was in control now, and moved her hips experimentally, her hands on his chest. It felt incredible. She could see the pleasure on his face too. She wanted, as he had wanted a moment ago, to see more of it. Remembering how it had felt when he pulled her hair, she dug her nails into the skin on his chest.

The gasp that came from his throat was intoxicating. Heero wasn't one to cry out, but he moaned as if he really couldn't help it, almost whimpering, and grabbed her by the hips, thrusting up under her.

Heat radiated from her skin. She wanted to peel off all her clothes and let him plow into her. Heero looked so tortured. She was going to hurt him if she kept this up much longer. Part of her wanted to hurt him.

And then…

"I just have to agree to stay?" he whispered. It was the cry of a man driven to concession by lust.

She stopped cold.

His eyes opened.

"You don't mean that," she said quietly.

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

Clarity rushed into her mind. She forced herself off of Heero's body, suddenly embarrassed that it had gone as far as it did. She should have stopped sooner. She had had several opportunities. It was her fault.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching for her shirt.

"Don't be sorry."

She didn't know how to respond. Heero propped himself up on his elbows, watching her as she buttoned her blouse and searched distractedly for her sweater. She wanted to ask him if he was leaving, and when, but she was afraid to, because she already knew the response.

When she was decent, she got off the bed and turned to look at him. "Will I see you again?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You won't stop talking to me, will you?"

"Of course not."

He seemed puzzled that she would even ask this, but Relena bit her lip. His answer was almost too certain—too casual. She wanted to see him soon. She wanted to hear from him tomorrow. And every day thereafter. He probably meant her birthday. Or next year.

"Relena, I will never stop talking to you."

She nodded, unable to think of anything else to say that wouldn't sound needy.

The trouble was that she needed him in her life, as a real part of her life. He was part of her thoughts and considerations. She wanted to be in his thoughts and considerations as well. But she dared not voice it. She understood him. And she didn't want him to run.

Heero walked her to the door.

She opened it. Dusk had fallen, casting shadows on the outside world that now seemed gray and desolate where before it had seemed sunny. Her life was out there, but her love was behind her.

She stood awkwardly in the doorframe for a moment, and then turned, throwing her arms around Heero. He held her, smoothing her hair. She felt tears coming again, but managed to restrain them, just barely. When she pulled away, he looked deeply into her eyes.

"I love you," he said.

She stared at him. That one had come unprompted.

"I love you too."

There were so many other things she wanted to say, but she had said them all already. She knew she could keep saying them forever and it would make no difference. Not for now. He had made up his mind. So she smiled. She wanted him to remember her happy. She was happy.

It was an effort to force her body to turn. She walked away from Heero's doorstep, not looking back over her shoulder until she reached the lane. He lingered in the doorway, his body framed in light, watching her go. She kept walking, trying not to think. She walked until she could no longer see him. Then she stopped and called her driver.

She stood on the curb, the only person around for miles, cell phone in hand, washed in the gray light of dusk, waiting to be picked up. It was like being in a ghost world, a place between paradise and eternal darkness, where she was caught, interminably, in limbo.