Title: Finding Yourself
Authors: Sana and Sayuyuki, this part Sana
E-mails: smj@neobee.net (Sana) and mistress_sayu@hotmail.com (Sayuyuki)
Warnings: angst, AU, lemon, bastardized Relena
Pairings: 1x2, mention of 1xR
Disclaimer: We don't own them. We're just having fun!
Sana: The Bitter Taste of Tears www.geocities.com/sana1x2/
FFN under Sanashi
Wistful Eyes http://www.stormpages.com/wistfuleye/
A Jester's Mask at http://www.stormpages.com/deathangel02/main.html
Sayuyuki: Enter S.a.y.u. http://www.angelfire.com/gundam/sayu/
DHML fanfiction archive
A/N: Thank you for the comments on the prologue. I don't know if Sayu replied to anyone, but I need to apologize on my behalf, since I couldn't find time to thank anyone. But be sure that your comments mean a lot! So, please C&C! ^__^
A/N 2: Hiya Sayu!! ::glomp:: Welcome back to the ML! ^_^


The days crept by drearily, agonizingly slowly in Heero's opinion. They were uneventful; each of them was quite like the one before it, and he hated it. The writer's block wouldn't let him write -- regardless of how much time he spent in front of his laptop, desperately trying to fight it.

He spent the evenings with Relena, listening to her chatter relentlessly for hours, filling his mind with unimportant things. He kept quiet most of the time, nodding occasionally to let her know he was listening, although he really wasn't.

There was one thing, however, that Relena never failed to mention, never forgot to inquire. Heero could always see it coming -- she'd fall silent for a few moments, furrowing her brow slightly, as if contemplating whether to ask her question or not.

"When are you going to get a real job?" Heero could hear the question ringing in his ears, slowly driving him insane. Most of the time, he'd just grunt out his answer, not even bothering to respond. But Relena never seemed to mind, continuing her one-sided conversation without even waiting for her husband's reply. Whether it was because the blonde was already used to his behavior toward her or because she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying either, he never knew, but, frankly, he didn't even care.

One evening after finishing his dinner and placing the plate in the kitchen sink, the Japanese man moved back to the dining room seeming deep in thought. He was in a particularly foul mood -- a result of more than six hours of staring at the blank screen and hitting 'delete' whenever words stained the perfect whiteness of the page. All he wanted to do was retreat to the bedroom, crawl into the bed and let sleep take away all the worries the day had brought. He considered taking a shower first, presuming it might help him relax, and was just heading to the bathroom when a hand around his wrist stopped him.

"Where are you going, dear? I haven't seen you all day! Come sit and talk to me for a while. I want to know what your day was like." Relena's voice was soft and she was smiling. No matter how much Heero wanted to shake her off at that moment, tell her he had better things to do, he couldn't; she was his wife, after all. He swallowed a growl that struggled to come out of his mouth, and let himself be pulled to the table.

"So, how was your day?" she repeated as soon as they were both seated. Heero merely nodded. "Good? I'm glad to hear that. I had quite a good day, myself. Remember those papers I told you about? The ones that needed to be translated into French for our ambassador there? Well, I finally managed to translate them. It contained all those specialized words, and you know how unsure I am of my French... But, nevertheless, I did it. Everyone congratulated me, Heero, I was so happy! Aren't you proud of me?"

It took a few moments to realize that Heero hadn't acknowledged her question. He seemed to look right through her, his mind miles away. He wasn't listening to her... again! Anger flared through her veins, making her clench her fists tightly in an effort to regain composure.

Her voice was full of venom when she next spoke. "So, Heero, what did you do today?"

The Japanese man's eyes narrowed slightly. "I was working," he said slowly, as if talking to a small child.

"Working?" she wondered innocently. "Oh, you mean you actually listened to me and found a job? That's wonderful!" the blonde exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

"No, you know very well what I meant. I was writing."

"Oh. You know, Heero," she began, "the difference between you and me is that I don't consider sitting in front of the computer all day - doing nothing, might I add - working."

The young man bit his lower lip, hard. He knew she was about to start it again and he really wasn't in the mood to listen to it. He'd heard it all a hundred times. When would she realize that, regardless of what she said, he wouldn't stop writing?

"You need to find a real job, and not just because of yourself, but because of me, as well. Think of our reputation! All of my friends married rich, highly respected people who take them to receptions and buy them the most expensive jewelry they could imagine... I'm not really ashamed of you, Heero, but... you're not making me very proud, either. If only you'd consider getting a job -"

"But I already have a job, Relena."

"What you're doing can hardly be considered a job! You're not making any money! You're depending on me to provide for you!"

Heero clenched his fists tightly, the nails digging into his palms. Never, in his entire life, had anyone insulted him like this. His arm moved on it's own accord, rising in the air, getting ready to strike-- Heero wrapped his other hand over his fist, stopping himself just barely. He gripped his hand as hard as he could, making the pain call him back to his senses. He and Relena had argued before; but he'd never been as close to hitting her as he was now.

"I don't depend on you," he managed through clenched teeth. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe I was doing quite well even before I met you. I have my own apartment, as well as the money my parents left me when they passed away, or have you forgotten about that? I could manage perfectly well without you, I assure you. And I will make money when I finish my first book."

"Book?" Relena's voice was tight, as if she was trying hard to hold back her laughter.

"Yes, a book," Heero said tersely. "Writers write books, Relena."

Relena looked at her husband, giving him an once-over and started to laugh. Tears of mirth formed in her eyes, her cheeks reddening slightly as she tried to muffle her giggles with her hands. It took her a few moments to find her voice again, amusement still clearly visible in her eyes. "You..." she whispered, pointing a finger at him to indicate that she was, indeed, talking about him, "a writer?" She snorted loudly as if the very idea of that was absurd. "You have a writer's block, Heero dear."

Heero closed his eyes, gripping the table edge tightly as he forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. "Writer's blocks pass, Relena. Many famous novelists have gone through an unproductive phase in their lives."

"Yes, but you haven't written anything yet! The only thing that gives you the right to call yourself a writer is your block!" she concluded mockingly. Heero was too angry for words. He desperately hoped she'd stop talking soon, as he didn't know what he might do to her otherwise. Unfortunately, Relena hadn't finished with him yet.

"You know, Heero, not everyone can be a writer. It requires talent. And, frankly, I'm not sure you have it," she crooned, folding her arms across her chest.

How dare she? She never even bothered to glance at his work, let alone read it! How dare she say he had no talent!? Heero was furious! "I think you'd better shut up," he growled.

"What did you say?" She blinked, disbelieving.

"I said shut up before I hit you!"

Her eyes widened. "How- How dare you talk to me like that? Without me, you're nothing! I'm the one making all the money, you're the one depending-- "

"Shut up!!!" He leapt from the chair, slamming his fist down on the table. "I don't have to listen to this!"

His outburst left her mute. Her eyes were fixed on him, unblinking, reflecting her fear and confusion. She never expected her usually calm and quiet husband to react like that!

Heero ran a hand over his face, rubbing his throbbing temples slowly, trying to calm down. He glared at Relena once more before turning on his heel and walking of the room, leaving his stunned wife staring at his back.

He picked up his coat from the hanger, graciously putting it on. "I'm going to get some fresh air. Don't wait for me." Without a backwards glance, he was gone, leaving her with her mouth open, a baffled statement staining her face.