The sheets were warm; the fragrance of her lingering heavenly near, perfuming every breath. Blankets, like a feathery weight rested, in the pale morning glow that spilled from the open window. Chocolate brown hair peeked out from under the covers.

How pleasant it is to slowly wake from an abiding celestial dream and better still to have that same vision throughout the waking hours. Sliding his hand off of his stomach and letting it casually fall to the bed, Heero moved slowly, smoothing the wrinkles in the sheets: spreading his fingers, extending his reach, searching. He turned his head, lifting thick lashes to uncover rings of Prussian blue. She wasn’t there. Heero Yuy closed his eyes again, pulled his hand back to his body, and slowly exhaled.

“Heero?”

He feigned sleep as a hand on either side of his head pushed down, forming dents in the pillow. Long silky hair filled the shallow depressions as their owner lowered her face toward his.

“I know you’re awake,” Relena chided; from the door she had seen him run his hand over the bed.

A faint smile curled his lips but he kept his eyes shut without effort. The mattress mimicked the pillow, forming two dimples under the new pressure from Relena. With her hands still on either side of his head, she once again spoke to her beloved, in no more than a whisper. “Heero, there’s no possible way you’re still asleep.”

Heero looked straight up, his practiced stern glare focused exclusively on her face. “I’m trying my hardest but there’s a pest hovering around.” Shutting his eyes he added, “Could you remove it?”

Relena clicked her tongue, “Heero.”

“Please?” the former pilot asked, like a child knowing he won’t get what he asked for until he uses the ‘magic’ word.

“Oh, all right,” Relena agreed, rolling onto the bed and giving Heero a push. When she had succeeded in evicting him she knelt near the edge of the mattress and questioned, “Pest removed to you satisfaction?”

Growing older doesn’t mean becoming more mature, or it was something similarly stated that Relena had taken to heart; smiling innocently and waiting for her answer, hands folded serenely in her chemise covered lap.

Heero stood and pulled on a pair of Preventer uniform pants, pressed and crisp. He ran his tanned fingers through his ever-unruly hair and in a nonchalant fashion sat on the bed in front of the kneeling Relena.

“I think it’s still here somewhere,” he speculated, lying back onto her.

“I tried so don’t blame me.” Relena smiled as, reaching back, Heero found her hands and pulled them around him.

“Hnn.” Toned arms wrapped around the lace hem of her wine colored chemise and with a surety of strength and flowing solid movement he lifted his wife. Heero strode purposefully across the room, pausing momentarily. “Shirt?”

“What?” Relena wondered aloud and before he could answer added, “Oh.”

Holding a little tighter and leaning, she reached carefully out to grab what he had asked for.

“Are you hungry?”

Clinging to her love’s shoulders, Relena answered, “Carry on.”

Relena gathered her coat closer to her body, the evening breeze bringing a brightness to her cerulean eyes, and skipping joyously through her golden-honey tresses. That same salty twilight wind that visited every afternoon and stayed till after the rich hues of the sunset had faded. The storm of the previous night had passed leaving clearer skies and perfect weather for one more memory of today.

She slowed only for lingering glances at the boutique windows all dressed in alluring colors, select items expertly arranged; an old-world storybook feeling emitted by the quaint architecture.

Had it really been that long since that morning? Relena passed the window of a sweet shop selling the same sticky-cinnamon buns she and Heero had had for breakfast. Mornings, alone, it seemed, were all they could share; each day separating them for long and tedious acts of diplomacy. Moments when they were just Heero and Relena, before the added duties, titles, and positions dominated their existence; brief wonderful times like stolen trysts, almost as though they were secret lovers, fellow conspirators in a forbidden romance. Relena laughed at this thought; perhaps it did have some merit, but not much. Still pondering over this, Relena quickened her slowing steps.

Heero, leaning against the stone wall, watched as Relena paused after turning the corner, she was smiling, unbound hair, and long charcoal shaded coat gently dancing to an unknown piper. He made his way to her, ignoring the chimes tale-telling of the aging hours. She gratefully accepted the arm he offered and together they wandered aimlessly.

The park’s trees were nearly naked, the last autumn-tinted leaves still reluctant to fall. Flickering, the white spheres atop the ornate posts lit in the approaching night. The couple soon left that small circle of light. Relena quietly offered Heero the last bite of her hotdog that they had purchased from a pleasant and chatty vendor.

Undisturbed by the music, the silence welcomed the simple harmony of guitar and singer, a nondescript performance not unlike the sirens of myth who tempted sailors: alluring without reason. Heero wrapped his arm around Relena’s waist, standing at the edge of the song. She stepped into his embrace, listening.