Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.  No money or notoriety is gained from my writings which involve these characters, ect., ect. Title: Losing Control Author: Fair Maiden (suliabryon@hotmail.com) Summary: My vision of the state of things following the end of the war, before the events of Endless Waltz, which I had not yet seen when I wrote this.  Yes, it is vastly different from the future depicted in the movie.  Sorry if that disappoints anyone.  View it as an alternate reality.  The story deals with Zechs (not dead) and Noin and the state of their relationship, but other characters are briefly mentioned.  This is my first fanfic.  I write a lot of fiction with my own characters, but not usually with someone else's.  Any error in the portrayal of their personalities and behaviors is entirely my own.  Ornate candelabras hung from the ceiling, setting the formal dining hall alight in the warm glow of candleflame.  It gleamed off crystal stemware and gold rimmed porcelain, and made the tiny diamonds in Queen Relena's crown glitter.  She sat at the head of the fifty foot table, in a stunning sapphire gown that matched her eyes.  She looked distant and regal, and in Captain Lucrezia Noin's considered opinion, possessed of a mature beauty that belied her tender years.  No seventeen year old girl should have to maintain such a controlled demeanor, or have such depths of wisdom to her eyes.  It gave her the untouchable, unearthly glamour of a true monarch.  It also made Noin sad to see it.  But they had all of them, the young heroes of the war that had long ravaged the earth and her colonies, grown up too fast.  Death and killing had that effect. And some, she thought bitterly, thinking of all those who had died, many under her command, never got the chance to grow up at all.  "God, I'm in a morbid mood tonight," she muttered to herself, resisting the urge to run a hand through her short black hair.  It wouldn't do to fidget at a formal function such as this. "Are you all right, Noin?" asked the Queen in sotto voice, so only Noin, standing just to her left, would hear.  Lucrezia surreptitiously tugged her blue uniform straight, not that it wasn't already starched and polished within an inch of its life.  "Fine, Majesty.  Just woolgathering." Relena Peacecraft smiled in understanding.  She knew all about woolgathering.  It had been a long and difficult road to here, for everyone.  Peace, thanks to Romefeller, had been paid for with blood. "You know you don't have to be here, Noin.  Any one of your guards could perform this duty."  Besides, Relena knew how dreadfully boring these state dinners truly were.  If she had a choice, she wouldn't be here herself. "I prefer to take the responsibility of your safety personally whenever possible, Majesty," Noin insisted.  She was more than honored to serve the Peacecraft family and Sanq Kingdom as Captain of the Guard.  She loved and admired Queen Relena, and hadn't hesitated to accept the position after the war. Still...her gaze moved reluctantly down the table to settle on Milliardo Peacecraft, Relena's older brother.  Noin never lied to herself, and she knew that regardless of how much she cared for Relena, the young Queen was not the true reason for her presence here.  She would have gone wherever Milliardo was, be it here, or in the darkest pits of Hell. His by now legendary angelic features were lit with a smile as he listened attentively to his dinner companion, a voluptuous blond, who also happened to be the heir to a neighboring kingdom.  A lot of peaceful kingdoms had arisen in Romefeller's wake to follow the precepts laid out by Relena and the Sanq Kingdom.  Milliardo may have abdicated his own throne to his sister, but that didn't stop others from trying to get the Peacecraft name tied to their thrones.  The blond leaned toward him, the neckline of her gown quite daring for a 'princess'.  Noin thought it more suitable to a dockside whore.  She grit her teeth as Milliardo laughed, a full, deep laugh that cut her to the quick.  Even the sound of his voice, the commanding timbre she knew so well, tightened her gut with longing.  As Zechs Merquise, he'd been the commanding officer who had her deepest admiration and respect, no matter which side of the war he'd fought on.  The cool, analytical calculation that went on behind the silver mask he'd used to hide his features, and therefore his bloodline, made him a brilliant tactician.  He was cool under fire, one of the best pilots she'd ever seen, and a natural leader.  As Milliardo Peacecraft, his sculpted features and cobalt gaze made him the most charismatic of the young royalty to rise from the ashes of war.  His long, white blond hair was being mimicked by many of the youngbloods to grace the court, though none of them could match his polished, just detached enough manner.  Both identities were aspects of him that he excelled at.  As either man, he drew her, filled her with a longing that was almost a physical ache, and held her heart in his hands, though he didn't appear to know it. If he'd only remained Zechs Merquise, she might have told him her true feelings.  But Zechs had died, very publicly, at the war's end.  A necessary step, she knew, for Milliardo to appear and take his place beside his sister.  Noin never would have deprived him of that.  But she also knew the realities.  They were staring her in the face right now, in the form of the blond draping herself all over his arm.  A Peacecraft wouldn't be free to marry some ex-combat pilot, whose father had been nothing more than a fairly undistinguished miltiary man.  No, not anymore than Relena was free to marry an ex-Gundam pilot with no past.  What wasn't meant to be, wasn't meant to be.  She saw the sadness and heartache every time she looked into the Queen's eyes, and whatever Relena could bear, so could Lucrezia Noin.  That's what she told herself on a daily basis. So she maintained the pleasant fiction of her long friendship with Relena's brother, even as every day, her heart broke a little bit more.  She prayed that he never truly realized how hopelessly, how helplessly she loved him.  Not that she needed to worry, she thought bitterly.  If had hadn't figured it out after everything they'd been through together, he never would. Her stomach clenched at the silvery sound of the blond's laughter as she listened to some witticism Milliardo whispered in her ear.  It seemed so intimate, the way he leaned toward her, his hand casually touching hers, and Noin felt a sudden rush of tears come to her eyes.  Dear God, she thought, please don't let me cry.  Not now, not here.  Help me stay in control. She must have made some noise as she choked back the tears, for Relena shifted toward her suddenly, lips turned down slightly as her brow furrowed in concern. "Lucrezia, are you sure you're feeling all right?  You look a bit pale.  Please, if you're unwell send someone else as my honor guard.  Go to your room.  Lie down." For a moment Noin hovered on the knife edge of indecision.  Stay, and suffer the agony of watching him with that woman all evening, or leave, and torture herself with phantom imaginings of what was happening here without her.  But she realized how perilous her self control was tonight.  Maybe because of the same mood that had made her so morbid before.  Whatever the reason, she couldn't risk a public loss of control. "Thank-you, Majesty.  I am feeling...unwell.  Perhaps it would be best if I went to lie down."  Noin keyed her earpiece and spoke into the tiny mic fixed at her lapel.  "Rogers, I need you to take the rest of my shift.  Something's come up that I need to see to." "Right away, Captain." It took ten excruciating minutes for Rogers to arrive.  In that time, Noin did everything humanly possible to keep her gaze from drifting in Milliardo's direction.  Every time she heard one of them laugh, though, her jaw locked.  She was counting brass buttons on suits when Rogers finally strolled in.  She bowed to Relena and left as quickly as she could without seeming to hurry.  She didn’t see the way Relena glanced at her in worry, and she was unaware that another pair of blue eyes watched her retreat with speculation in them.  It was a relief to be in her own quarters, staring up at her own ceiling as she lay sprawled on the bed.  Her dress uniform hung neatly back in her closet.  She knew sleep would be a long time coming.  Visions of Zechs...Milliardo... with that woman plagued her.  She imagined them laughing together, dancing together, kissing in dark corners of the room.  She imagined them sharing his bed, and tasted blood as she bit the inside of her lip.  Curled into a ball, she felt each of the empty places in her soul, torn and bleeding, left by the various hurtful things he casually said or did, all unknowing.  She could have sworn that he had guessed her true feelings for him a dozen times over the course of their long friendship, but he had never, not once, let on that he knew.  Now she wondered if he had ever known, or if he did, was it all some cruel game to him to toy with her emotions.  The tears she'd managed to suppress earlier finally ripped free, and she sobbed into her pillow.  She didn't want anyone to hear as she cried herself to sleep. ****** She woke early, as was her habit, and groaned at what she saw in the mirror.  Her eyes were puffy and her face unnaturally pale.  She looked exactly like a woman who had cried herself to sleep in the early hours of the morning.  She took a long shower with the water as hot as she could stand it, hoping to take some of the strained look from her eyes.  Because of that she was late getting to the gym.  It was her habit, too, to work out every day.  Just because they were at peace now, that was no reason not to stay in fighting trim.   The moment the gym doors opened, she knew she’d stayed too long in the shower.  She was usually in and out of here before he arrived for his early morning workout.  Once upon a time, they would have timed their workouts together, for the simple pleasure of companionship while each did their solitary routines, perhaps followed by a few rounds of one on one, or fencing.  But Noin could no longer bear those companionable silences.  So she had taken to rising an hour earlier and getting in and done before him.  She sighed.  Today of all days, she needed the mindlessness of weights, of an hour of sweat.  She wasn’t going to give it up.  Besides, he’d already seen her.  It would look like cowardice if she left now.  Lucrezia Noin was many things, but not a coward. She decided to ignore him.  Not that it was easy.  He was stripped to the waist, and already a faint sheen of sweat covered the lean musculature of his torso.  It gave him the gleam of a carved alabaster statue.  A flawless statue.  His platinum hair was pulled back to be out of the way, and those intense eyes were clearly focused on some inward goal after that first glance up to see who else was entering the gym.  No one else ever came this early.  Well, I can be just as focused, she thought determinedly, and started her own workout. She wore an old fatigue tank and an equally old pair of sweats.  Checking the weights, she started with legs, concentrating fiercely on the reps at first.  It took the first five minutes before the rest of the world dissolved away, and her mind settled into the rhythm of the workout.  Then it didn’t matter anymore who she shared the gym with.  At least, not until he spoke to her.  She’d finished legs entirely and moved on to the bench press when he interrupted her thoughts. “Are you angry with me, Noin?” He sounded faintly puzzled.  She just about jumped out of her skin, and the interruption to her rhythm threw off her exhale, making the last rep harder to complete than it should have been.  She used it as an excuse not to answer, engineering the bar back into its socket above her.  He leaned against it casually, his face expressionless even without the silver mask, his hair trailing down toward her as she lay breathing heavily on the bench.  She waited another moment and then abruptly sat up.  She couldn’t look into those eyes and lie. “Angry?  Why would you think that?”  More to have something else to do than any real desire to finish the workout, she stood up and walked over to the hand weights so she could start bicep curls.  Zechs, damn him, followed just as casually, leaning against one of the leg machines. “Ah, so you are angry.”  He smiled.  “Answering a question with a question is no answer at all, and since you aren’t answering, I can assume that you are, in fact, angry.” Noin suppressed a grunt of disgust.  It was really annoying, sometimes, having a conversation with a strategist. “I’m not angry, Zechs.  I just don’t have time to talk right now.  I’m running late this morning, and you know how I hate being off schedule.”  It was difficult to call him by his actual name, Milliardo, when she had known as Zechs for so long. “Yes, I remember.”  He watched her in silence for a moment, perhaps admiring the symmetry of her movements as muscles flexed under a thin sheen of sweat.  He had admired that once, when they were younger, and she’d blushed furiously when he’d spoken his thoughts out loud.  He’d meant nothing by it, of course, except simple admiration for a finely tuned machine, a body well capable of piloting a combat mech.  Noin had been embarrassed, nonetheless.  But he kept his thoughts to himself this time, and she found herself wondering how she compared to the blond he’d been with the night before.  All at once she was angry with him.  Had he ended up in bed with the bimbo?  Was he here this morning, working through sore muscles from a night of passionate love making?  Her cheeks burned at the thought, and she hoped he attributed that and her gritted teeth to the weights in her hands. “Why don’t we ever spar anymore, Noin?” he asked suddenly.  She almost dropped the weights. “What?” He glanced at her, an unreadable look. “Why don’t we, you and I, ever spar together anymore?  You know, you were the only one who ever gave me a decent work out.”  His arms were folded over his chest, casually, but one foot tapped the ground in a restless beat.  She knew that habit well.  Often before a scheduled battle or mission, he’d want to go a few rounds in the gym to work off some of the anticipatory adrenaline.  But they weren’t going into battle now.  Still, whatever had caused the mood in him, she found herself suddenly eager to put a few bruises on that too perfect form.  So she arched one black brow and dropped the weights to the floor. “Why not now?” she asked.  He studied her for a moment. “Why not, indeed.” Silently, they moved over to the side of the gym laid with mats for those wanting to practice martial arts, wrestling, and other various forms of fighting. “Swords?” he asked lightly.  She let her eyes roam scornfully (she told herself) over his bare chest. “No, we don’t want that pretty skin of yours to bleed.  Hand to hand.  You want pads?” As she’d known he would, Zechs shook his head.  He never sparred with pads.  It took away the combative edge. After a few light stretches, the two stepped onto the mats.  Noin knew Zechs to be a skillful opponent, and one not to be taken lightly, especially since he outweighed her by at least fifty pounds.  They circled warily for a few moments, and then Zechs launched a fast punch at her head, followed almost immediately by a kick to her abdomen.  She evaded the punch, but the kick caught her hip and sent her balance askew.  Zechs quickly followed up on his advantage by grappling with her in an attempt to take her to the floor.  Wise to the move, she shifted her center of balance down and back to gain leverage and flip him.  It worked, but Zechs caught on quickly enough to throw himself through the air a split second before she threw his weight, giving him the leverage he needed to drag her down with him.  In a real combat situation, she would have countered by landing on him with her elbows and knees, driving all four points into soft parts of his anatomy.  Since she didn’t want to hurt Zechs that badly, she landed with her body flat against him, her hands splayed against the sweat dampened skin of his bare chest, and her face only inches from his.  For a second, everything froze.  Her mind went blank.  She was aware of two things.  His blue, blue eyes staring up into hers, and the silky, hot feel of him beneath her hands, against places left bare by her midriff tank.  Her heart rate accelerated, and need uncoiled deep inside her belly.  She could feel his breathing through the taunt skin of his abdomen, his heartbeat against her breast, and for a moment, just a moment, she almost closed the distance between their lips, just to see, just to get a taste.  Then sanity returned in a crash of adrenaline.  This was a very bad, very stupid idea.  She scrambled away from him as if scalded, and the places where her skin had touched his throbbed with unfulfilled need.  God, what a mistake!  She’d only succeeded in making things worse for herself. Slowly, Milliardo sat up. “Noin…” “Sorry, Zechs,” she muttered, not looking at him.  “That landing knocked the breath out of me for a minute.”  She reached for a towel as he stood up. “Strange,” he said softly, “I could feel you breathing quite well the whole time.  Rather faster than usual, actually.” She stood frozen for a second, the towel hanging from her fingers.  She didn’t have a clue how to react, what to say. “I…I…” “Noin.”  Zechs came up to stand behind her, so close she could feel his breath on her face, feel his hair trail silkily against her back where it had come loose from its bonds.  He lifted a hand to trace his fingers down her bare arm, and she couldn’t control the shiver that went through her, or her quickly indrawn breath.  “You cannot hide from me, Lucrezia,” he whispered.  “I know why you left the dinner last night.  I know what thoughts went through your head just now, as we lay entangled on the floor.” She flinched, waiting for him to say something blistering and hurtful.  But he surprised her. “Why do you insist on tormenting me, tormenting both of us, this way?” he asked, his control snapping, his voice coming harsh with long repressed emotions.  “I thought after the war was over, you would stay by me as you had through all those bloody battles.  I thought then you would come to me, and we would be together in truth.  Instead you hold yourself apart, distant, yet right before me all the time.  Are you torturing me for revenge?  For all the times I kept myself distant from you?” She turned toward him, shocked to see his beautiful features ravaged by pain and longing.  Her eyes filled with tears. “Zechs, no!  I…I thought you didn’t want me, and you…you’re a prince now.  Even if you did want me, you can’t…I’m not…”  She struggled to find the words to explain.  “People want to see you with someone noble and grand, not someone like me.” “But you are noble and grand, Noin, and if people don’t see that, they can bloody well be damned!”  He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her, hard and desperate.  It wasn’t what she’d imagined, full of barely leashed, violent need.  It seemed out of context for the normally controlled, polite and considerate Zechs she had always known, and gave her a glimpse of the depth of emotion he was feeling.  He gripped her tight enough to leave bruises on her flesh, but she didn’t care.  She reached up and covered his hands with hers, keeping them gentle as she returned his kiss with all the love and longing she’d kept pent up for so long.  Slowly his mouth gentled, and the kiss became something more than laying claim to a possession.  Her hands moved from covering his to his chest, and up around his neck, her mouth open and trembling beneath his.  The kiss was moisture and heat, passion and need, and love.  Her hands tangled in his silky hair, her body pressed as close to his as the barrier of clothing would allow. He broke away to bury his face against her neck. “God, Noin.  If you knew what tortures I have gone through, thinking you somehow hated me…I need you.  Now.  Please.”  She couldn’t have refused his strangled plea if she’d wanted to.  She could feel his arms trembling where they encircled her waist.  One of her own hands shook as it stroked his hair.  How long had she wished for something like this, imagined what it would be like to be held by him?  She wasn't going to let this opportunity pass her by, on so many levels.  But some things came first.  She licked lips gone suddenly dry. "Zechs...Milliardo...you know I love you.  So much that it hurt to be around you, to be physically near you but emotionally apart.  I...I couldn't take it anymore.  That's why I distanced myself." He lifted his head and met her eyes. "I know that...now.  I suspected it a couple of months ago, when you nearly killed that Ambassador from the lunar colonies...you remember."  Indeed Noin did. The leggy bitch had spent a week throwing herself at Milliardo, all the while making snide, slighting remarks about Noin whenever he wasn't around.  It was one remark too many that sent Noin swinging for her pretty, condescending face.  Word of that little brawl had kept the ranks gossiping for weeks.  Milliardo shrugged.  "After that I started really paying attention to how you responded when I flirted with other women." Noin stared at him.  She couldn't believe what she was hearing.  "You-- that blond last night -- you were just trying to make me jealous?!"  She wanted to slap him, she was so mad, but just as she lifted her hand, he leaned down and kissed her softly.  It was very different from the first kiss.  It began soft and coaxing, his lips moving over hers in a deliberate gentleness designed to show her his feelings.  Part of her wanted to hold on to the mad and remain unmoved, but she just couldn't.  Her limbs turned liquid and soft, and with a shuddering sigh she gave herself up to the moment.  Her arms went around him.  Still coaxing, but more passionate now, his mouth was doing wonderful things to her insides, his tongue stroking and entangling hers in moist heat.  His hands were in her hair, sliding down her back.  It took a moment before she realized he had grasped her shirt and was peeling it up over her head. She pulled back, breathing a bit heavily. "Zechs, this is awfully public, don't you think?" He smiled, his eyes a deeper blue than normal.  She'd never realized they changed color with his emotions.  "I locked the door." "Oh." It took about five seconds to finish pulling off her shirt, and grab the waistband of his sweats to yank him back against her.  "Then what the hell are you waiting for?" she asked, and kissed him again.  His hands massaged the small of her back, then moved lower and lifted her up so her legs could wrap around him.  The feel of him, aroused and hard, rubbing against her through their cloths nearly drove her insane.  He groaned as if in pain while raining slow, seductive kisses over her neck and collarbone.  Two steps took them off the mats and to a wall he could sandwich her against to get his hands free.  She wanted his hands free, and on her.  He continued moving his mouth over her skin, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs grazing her nipples while he moved his hips slowly up and down against her.  Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and she whimpered. "Zechs...please..." He finally let her slide down the wall, but her trembling legs almost wouldn't hold her.  It did please her to note that his breathing was as ragged as hers.  Their hands fumbled with stripping the rest of their clothing away, making the task take longer than it should have.  Finally naked, Noin reached down and wrapped her hand around him.  He leaned his head against hers as he groaned.  She smiled and stroked once, twice, and he gasped, muscles tensing all over that spectacular body. "Noin...if you want me inside you...stop that." She laughed, pleased to have such power over him.  It was a new and exciting feeling for her.  Since she did want him inside of her, she took her hand away and put her arms around his neck.  They kissed again, all heat and glorious passion, as he lifted her above him once more and pinned her against the wall, but this time he slid her down to glide slowly over him, encasing him in the hot, wet glove of her body.  They both shuddered, and stayed there for a moment, not moving.  They stared into one another's eyes, and she started to slide up and down, keeping the rhythms slow and measured to draw out the moment for both of them. It didn't take long for the pleasure to sweep them up, for their movements to get faster and more desperate as they clung together.  When Noin's body shuddered and tightened around him in tremors of climax, Zechs lost his last, tenuous grasp on control.  His cries filled the gymnasium with hers, spasms of pleasure rocking through them both.  By the time she  slid down to stand again, limp and spent, Noin was laughing...well, giggling, really.  Zechs glanced up from leaning his head against the wall, breathing heavily, one platinum brow arched in question. "I never imagined we'd end up in the gym...you know."  She gestured to their cloths, and the mats.  "I'm never going to be able to work out here again without being totally embarrassed.  In fact, what we just did gives a whole new meaning to the term 'work out'." He grinned. "I'll be sure to remind you of that the next time we spar." Then his smile faded, and he stroked a hand down her arm. "I love you, Noin." The quiet words made her breath catch and tears sting her eyes.  Even after all they'd just shared, actually hearing the words for the first time swamped her with emotion. "I know, but thank-you for saying it."  She smiled at him, then sighed in complete contentment.  She felt languid and relaxed, and utterly happy for the first time she could remember.  "Now if only we could get your sister and Heero together, so they could be as happy as we are..." Milliardo Peacecraft frowned darkly.  He'd seen how unhappy Relena was, and the stubborn Gundam pilot keeping himself as distant from the newly risen Sanq Kingdom as he could get was the chief reason.  It was a situation bound to make any older brother concerned and angry. “I’ve been giving that some thought myself,” he murmured.  “I’m working on a solution.” “When you find one, let me know.”  Noin reached up and stroked a possessive finger down his sweat slicked chest.  “But for right now, I have something else for us to work on.” “Oh really?” She grinned up at him, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Let’s try that again, only this time in a bed.” End.