my first one shot. yay. and by the way, i used my slightly screwy picture of fallen angels.

disclaimers: not mine. no sue.

warnings: uh...none, really

[every little word
with every lesson learned
i think i know why hearts are made of stone
every little pain
fans a bitter flame
nothing stops me loving you]
-b*witched, like the rose (purty song)

[black-winged angels]
lady of the mer

All fallen angels are wanderers.

Did you know that? I didn’t until I Fell myself. My, the great Goddess was mad at me that time. I had flown. Ah, the elation, the freedom of flight. I had decided to fly down to Earth, to admire the greens, the blues, and the browns. In the Lady’s Country, all was tainted yellow or sliver by the sun. The Laws forbade an angel to fly, much less to Earth. The other angels had been sad to see me go, but chastised me for breaking one of the great rules of the Lady and her Lord.

Falling isn’t very pleasant. Most of the Fallen don’t even survive the fall to Earth. I broke a wing when I Fell. Blood spattered everywhere, staining the beautiful green grass the ugly silver of angel’s blood.

I had never stayed in one place for long, hoping to keep a low profile. Much as Heero protests that I can’t, let’s see Mr. Perfect Soldier survive for half a millenium with a meter-long braid and the never-quite-mature body of a fifteen-year-old.

That is, I was perpetually wandering until Doctor G took me in for Deathscythe. Ah, my Shinigami. You were the only one who really understood me, weren’t you? You were the only one who saw past my mask, old and worn as it was. You were the only one who could tell the difference from a real smile and a forced one.

Well, maybe, you and Heero. But if Heero ever gave any sign of it, then either I was asleep or not paying attention.

But those eyes, oh those eyes. Those cobalt eyes were as hard as diamond and twice as beautiful. They could bore into your soul twice over and you wouldn’t know it.

That was one of the reasons I loved him. Quirky person, aren’t I? I’m attracted to the strangest people. A suicidal maniac with beautiful eyes and a girl that follows him around like a dog. And me, a fallen angel with a braid, a joker’s personality and a homicidal streak. Strange, ne? Well, they always said opposites attract.

Maybe that was why I left.

It was after the war when it happened. Heero had taken a job as Relena’s bodyguard. I, being the wanderer that I am, skipped from colony to colony before finally settling on L3. We kept in touch, of course. I took up a job as a bartender. The job paid well, and except for the occasional drunken slut that attached herself to me and had to be beaten back with a stick, my life was fine.

Until the invitation came.

The invitation to Heero and Relena’s wedding.

I came home late one night to my apartment after an intoxicated prostitute draped herself all over me. I had tried to lose her, but alcohol renders all common sense useless, and she had to be sent to the hospital because of a broken nose.

And there it was. In the middle of my coffee table. A white envelope with golden filigree, and the words ‘Duo Maxwell’ were written in calligraphy of the same color. A silver-blue holocube sat to the left of it. I decided to open the envelope first.

Dear Mr. Maxwell, the letter read.

You have been cordially invited to the wedding of Heero Yuy and Relena Peacecraft-Dorlian. The wedding will be held at the private Dorlian chapel situated on Earth, on April 10, 198AC. Thank you.

Best regards,
Heero and Relena

No. No! NO! It couldn’t be possible. Heero, marrying Relena? How absurd. It was laughable. Heero Yuy, once a well-known terrorist and ex-Gundam pilot, was marrying Relena Peacecraft, Vice Foreign Minister? It couldn’t be true.

But it was.

My heart was twisted a dozen different directions. Great Goddess, how could you be so cruel? My mind reeled, making the room swirl and turn. The floor tilted under my feet. The letter fell from my limp hands as I gasped for breath. My legs felt as if they were jelly and wouldn’t cooperate, and so I collapsed onto the coffee table. The force of my fall shook the table, accidentally activating the holocube.

A miniature, see-through Heero appeared on the wooden surface.

“Duo.” I raised a red, tear-stained face to stare at the little figure. It was Heero, all right. The messy brown bangs were still perpetually out of place, and those eyes, those blazing blue eyes, bored into me even as a ten-inch-tall hologram. “You’re going to be my best man. Be there a week early. It will be good to see you again.” The figure flickered as the recording ended.

[two weeks later]

As I stepped off the shuttle, an ecstatic Relena and a stoic Heero greeted me. I plastered a giant, fake grin upon my face, and gracefully returned Relena’s hug. She gave me a peck on both cheeks, as the Europeans do. I then slapped Heero on the back, congratulating him, as was the false nature of my façade.

He shot me the patented Yuy Glare of Death.

My grin widened. Same old Heero, all right. He had grown as many as seven inches, towering over me. The Goddess had been kind and allowed me some semblance of growth; giving me a few inches and letting most of the baby fat disappear from my face.

The next week was a living hell. Relena looked every bit the blushing bride, with her long, flaxen blonde hair. Her bright blue eyes sparkled brightly and an ever-present smile graced her lips. The frock she had selected for the wedding was traditionally white, with frothy lace at the hem. Heero had chosen a white tuxedo, at much insistence on Relena’s part.

It was painful to see them take their vows. The bouquet of pink roses was in Relena’s hands as she stood in that pure white gown at Heero’s side. I gloated somewhat when discovered that Heero’s features weren’t housed in a smile, but in the glower I knew all too well.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Heero leaned forward and placed a light, chaste kiss upon Relena’s waiting mouth, and then there was a great cheer. I tried to keep the devil-may-care grin on my face, but failed terribly. Seeing that I had no other choice, I slipped into my jester’s mask, erecting the long unused walls of laughter and smiles.

I made myself scarce at the reception, walking around the great gardens that made up the Dorlian’s chapel grounds aimlessly. I reached out and touched a pure white rose, willing it to turn black. Slowly, the petals darkened to silver then gray, then ebon-gray, then pure black. I plucked the bud with a deft flick of my wrist and tossed it into the air. The flower exploded noiselessly, showering me with hundreds of velvety black petals.

I spent hours in the garden, wandering amid the flowers. I had made my decision days before. When the clock chimed twelve, the great black feathered wings exploded from my shoulders. The restraining garment that was my tuxedo was replaced with the robes spun of pure shadow that were mine. I extracted the note I had written from my sleeve and reviewed it.

All fallen angels are wanderers. Don’t worry about me. Sayonara.

With one flap of my wings, I was airborne. Slight adjustments of various feathers and I flitted toward Heero and Relena’s bedroom window soundless. I alighted on the sill and opened the window. I crept into the room, silent as a shadow, and conjured a tiny white flame in my hand. I placed the note upon the bedside stand and then stood back to admire the angelic form in front of me.

Heero’s face was in repose. The features were softened into an expression of peace. Dark bangs obscured part of his face. His mouth was slightly open and soft sounds of sleep emerged.

A stray lock slipped into my face, shadowing my vision. I cut it off with a dark dagger extracted from my sash. As an afterthought, I placed it by the note.

Then I spread my great wings of night and leapt out of the window into the darkness.

Because, you know, all fallen angels are wanderers.


oh my...i didn’t like that...i’m ashamed now...c&c begged for. shamelessly, even.