Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Barton Family Reunion ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, its plot, or its characters. The Barton family as a whole, I do not own, but I do own the individuals specifically named, such as Aderton and his family. Mr. Rash is mine as well. Everyone else I may not have mentioned is mine, and so is the plot. Oh, I do not own the small Star Wars reference or the card game either. This was written as a submission for the Spy and the Silencer contest.

 

 

The Barton Family Reunion

 

Javier stared as the young heiress dismounted the horse. She walked over sensually; her eyelashes danced, calling to him. He crossed the distance between them quickly. When she offered her hand, he kissed it. He loved kissing it. She watched as he tried to hide his hunger for her. She went to go into the house when he grabbed her softly and held her close to him.

“What is this, Mr. Valdez?” she questioned him mockingly.

“Oh, Scarlet,” he moaned. He stared intently at her face.

“Javier,” she stalled.

Javier held Scarlet in his arms a few more minutes gazing into her deep, emerald eyes. His kiss barely whispered on her lips. Without needing words, he tore off her bodice, setting free her full and voluptuous breasts. He lowered his head to—

 

The ring of customers walking into the store tore Midii's attention away from the trashy novel. She was about to return to the novel, seeing as it was the normal chattering customer, but his companion caught her eye. Recognizing him, she quickly put the book back on the shelf and smiled as prettily as she could. If she played her cards right, she could get a big sale. Duo Maxwell, the regular, hardly bought things, and her boss constantly got onto her about letting him idly look at the merchandise, but his friend might purchase a few things, hopefully the expensive ones. How Duo knew Quatre Raberba Winner of all people, much less got him to come into the dinky little shop, she did not know, nor did she care at the moment. All that mattered was that he had gotten the wealthy man into the store, and she was determined to have him buy the whole store if she had to do so.

Duo gave her a puzzling look, “Why are you smiling all of a sudden?” Winner looked at her then at his friend and returned to looking at the small collection of local artists' pictures. They were only assignments from the college down the street, and the shop owner was nice enough to buy them when the students needed a couple dollars, but Quatre Winner gazed at them as if he were viewing unknown works by Picasso, Botticelli, or da Vinci.

“What are you talking about? I always smile like this for the customers,” Midii said as sweetly as she could muster.

“I come in here all the time, and you never smile for me,” he mock pouted.

“I said I smile for the customers, and customers are people who actually buy things,” she gave a meaningful glance toward Winner. Duo looked over at his friend, and it seemed to register in his mind. He walked toward Winner and said something to him in a low voice, producing a chuckle from the blonde heir. Quatre Winner looked over at her and smiled. She struggled to maintain her own. Duo was going to get it for whatever he just said. She moved to go assist her customer, but Quatre grabbed a few paintings as well as other things, not seeming even to glance at what he was purchasing, and set them on the counter for Midii to ring up.

“Will this be all?” she asked as she started to add the total.

“Um, not quite,” he answered, taking out a small piece of paper and jotting down something, “What's the total?”

“Do you need help finding something else?” she inquired.

“No, it's not in the store…exactly,” he said, not looking up as he got out his wallet.

“Uh, the total is one hundred and twenty-three dollars and forty-two cents,” she told him, luckily he had grabbed expensive items on his way to the register.

“Okay, then,” he handed her two hundred-dollar bills, “Keep the change, and tomorrow on your lunch break, come to my house. Here's the address.” He handed her the slip of paper. She gave him a look of doubt. Duo looked at him incredulously.

“Is this what I think it is?” she questioned.

A faint blush came to Winner's cheeks, “No! Not at all!” He managed to smile again, “I have a family friend who could use your services. Oh, I don't mean that how it sounds either. I know about your past, and I need your help. Please, just come to my house tomorrow, and I'll explain everything. I promise.”

He turned with his purchases and left with his friend. Duo was giving him a hard time about getting prostitutes.

 

Catherine giggled, actually giggled. The giggle itself was not abnormal (Cathy giggled quite a lot recently), but the reason for the giggle was what bothered Trowa. This was not a giggling moment.

“You're going, aren't you?” she inquired.

Trowa stared at her disbelievingly. He crumpled up the paper and threw it away. Cathy caught it with ease.

“You have to go, Trowa. They're expecting you! I'll go as your date. Maybe I can get a date,” the giggle returned. What had gotten into her suddenly? She had never been the giggling schoolgirl type before, but she was beginning to fit the profile perfectly.

“I'm not going,” he stated simply, “They have the wrong guy.”

“But they don't know that!” she protested, “And you are technically Trowa Barton.”

“I'm not Trowa Barton.”

 

Midii found the Winner residence with ease without the need of the paper. It was the biggest house for miles, and it sat on a few acres of land, so it was quite hard to miss. When she was a few feet from the entrance, she began to ask why she was even bothering coming. If he really knew of her past, then this could not be good. He was an important politician and businessman, and all her instincts screamed that this was a trap, a set-up.

How could he know of her past? It was unlikely he even knew half of it, the real past that is. She went to great lengths to erase most of her past and made up a new one. She did not need the self-righteous Preventers coming after her in some form of justice and to make an example for past figures. She also did not need this one pacifist to blow it all because he felt the need to make sure the public was “safe.”

However, he was a friend of Duo, and she had gotten to know Duo pretty well over the last few months, so if Winner was friends with Duo, he could not be too bad, right? That was what Midii kept telling herself. She tried to quiet the voices in her head that pointed out all the places where a sniper could be waiting for her wrong move or where she could easily bomb the place. She did not completely block out those voices, though, in case she had to call on them quickly.

Entering the pass code he gave her, Midii went through the gates and down the walkway. She got to the door without anyone attempting to take her life, and she knocked on the door. She was momentarily shocked, though she did not let it show, when a towering Arabian man opened the door instead of the small butler she expected. He gave her what appeared to be a severe look but led her to his “Master Quatre.”

Quatre Winner knew how to treat his guests, that was for sure. When she entered the spacious room, he stood and took her hand with a small kiss on it. He led her to the table where a light lunch was prepared. She sat down graciously, and when he gestured her to go ahead and eat, she was pleasantly surprised to find her favorite sandwich in front of her.

“I hope it was prepared the way you like it,” he said as he ate his own food.

“It is, but then there aren't too many ways to fix a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” she smiled, “How did you know?”

“Do you know a man named Heero Yuy?” he inquired.

“You mean the dead guy?”

“No, he's not dead, not yet.”

“Don't tell me he's you,” she smirked.

“What? No, he's not me. Why would he be?”

“Never mind,” she managed to say without impatience in her voice.

“Well, he was a Gundam pilot, piloted Wing Zero,” he explained.

Midii thought for a moment, “Oh! That guy! What about him?”

“He's a friend, and I'm told you two were together for some time,” Winner informed, “He told me about your favorite sandwich.”

“I'm guessing he also helped you find out about my past?” she ventured.

“He helped some, but I have other sources, too. Your father and brothers provided most of the information,” he said as he picked something out of his potato salad with his fork.

“My family?” the blood left her upper half, “What did you do to my family?” she demanded.

He looked up, “Nothing, I swear. I just talked to them, honest.”

“Sorry, I've just developed paranoid reflexes over the years, and not many people know of my family,” she apologized. He waved his hand.

“No need, no offence taken. I understand how that is. Maybe I should just get down to why I asked you here,” he suggested.

She agreed readily.

“My grandfather's friend contacted me recently. Years ago, he had an illegitimate child with a member of the Barton family. He's dying now, and he wants a chance to meet his son and grandchildren, as well as to reconcile with the mother of his child. Unfortunately, our relations with the Bartons are strained. Most of the `families' look down on the Barton family for one reason or another, I think it is just plain snobbery, but the Bartons in turn now snub us. The Barton family is having a reunion soon, and I was wondering if you could somehow get into it and bring Mister Rash, my grandfather's friend, with you,” he explained and requested, then added, “I am willing to pay you for your services of course.”

“Let me think for a moment,” she asked. Chewing on the last bite of her sandwich, she mentally went through all the steps she would have to go through and determined the overall risk. All in all, it was a job she could not afford to turn down. It was easy money. She accepted, and they bargained over a price. They settled the deal with a tour of the ground level of the mansion, the young man pointing out the art he and his family had collected from various places.

 

Weeks later on one of the major L-3 colonies, Midii pushed Mr. Rash in his wheelchair into the crowd of Barton relatives. Her nametag claimed she was Leia Barton, daughter of Dekim Barton. Leia had been dead since Midii was about ten or eleven, but she hoped no one would pay too close attention to who she actually was. She had Mr. Rash don a cap and sunglasses as Winner warned her they would recognize him and not permit her admittance with him. Thus, the disguise he wore.

She smiled at those who gave her acknowledgement and finally found her table. She parked the old man there and told him she was going to see if she could find his son. She mingled among the others, not finding the man anywhere. She searched for Aderton and Rachel Barton but instead found Evelyn Barton, who was proudly Dekim Barton's niece.

“Now, everyone just gets all upset about Uncle Dekim, but I don't know why,” she babbled, “He was a genius, you know. Well, of course you know, Leia, he was your daddy after all.”

Midii nodded.

“Well you know why he's getting all the bad publicity, don't you?” Fiona Barton, a second cousin once removed by marriage, informed, “It's because of them.”

“Them?” Midii asked for clarification.

“Leia, I know you've always been naïve about the families, but they really are against us. They don't want to admit we're just as good as they are,” Evelyn went on, “You even had an affair with one, but that doesn't mean he accepted you. People like the Khushrenadas only see Barton women as cheap rides. He was playing you.” She finished with a sneer.

“Be nice,” Fiona admonished, “I'm sure Treize cared for you very much.” Midii nodded. “However, the rest of them are just pompous bastards. His family never even asked about Mariemaia, never even offered to take her in. In fact, the Khushrenadas completely deny the fact that Mariemaia is their granddaughter, a legitimate one at least.”

“I bet the Catalonias are in on it,” Evelyn conspired, “Ever since they married the Khushrenadas, they've only turned them on us.” She rambled on about the different affluent and wealthy families and how they were all jealous about something. She made allusions to past events between the families which everyone understood. Midii nodded to show she remembered, and she weakly protested, defending the “families” some, only doing as much as she thought Leia might really have done.

Some other ladies joined the group, and they continued discussing who was here and who was not and why. They gossiped about the other family members as well as the “families.” Midii grew bored quickly. She was not the type of woman to sit idly by and to spread rumors about others. It was not what interested her at all. She would rather be out in a club or even doing paperwork than to listen to the women talk about each other. However, this was a job, and she had to finish it. Besides, it had to get better, right?

“What happened to you anyway, Leia?” asked Helen Rosetti, Leia's married cousin, interrupting her thoughts.
“Oh, I got hung up with my voluntary nursing. I've been on the move constantly since I helped the people after battles,” Midii easily lied. It was not a total lie since she did do that...somewhat.
The women had a collective “aw.”
“How sweet,” commented a Denise Barton.
“That must be why you didn't come to the last two reunions, you poor dear,” inferred Helen.
“Yeah, I got them a month too late by the time mail caught up with me, but there are no more wars, so I'm working in an actual hospital. Uh, that's also why Mariemaia stayed with my father for awhile. I didn't want the poor girl to be in the middle of a war,” Midii kept going, “What about the rest of you? I haven't been able to hear about what you did.”
“Well, I've been with Will still,” Helen explained, “We had a baby girl and then a boy. We're expecting a third. Will's going to be Vice-President soon, we're hoping.” Evelyn scoffed. Everyone ignored her. After listening to everyone's current doings, Midii found an excuse to leave.

 

There was that giggle again. Catherine surveyed all the Barton men, and the giggle came out. Trowa could tolerate many things in life. He had been able to keep his mouth relatively shut among the Oz soldiers, even around Nichol. He never hit a Mariemaia “soldier” in annoyance. He even kept his cool with his fellow Gundam pilots, no matter how much they really needed a good smack. However, this was different. He did not know how, but the giggle was getting on his last nerve. Why was she giggling so much? Could she not stop? Did she have to giggle every five minutes?

Trowa figured it was probably because he saw Catherine as a sister now, and they probably got on each other's nerves now as siblings tend to do. Whatever it was, he wanted it to stop. They had arrived at the reunion half an hour ago, and Catherine was becoming extremely thankful for the Bartons having a two-to-one ratio of males to females, especially when half of the men were around Catherine's age.

“This is so great,” she whispered in his ear.

“Yeah,” Trowa muttered. Catherine smiled and bounded off toward a group of hapless Barton males. They did not seem to mind her intrusion too much anyway. Trowa would have to keep an eye on her, his protectiveness coming forth.

However, nothing was going to happen to Catherine at the moment. She was too sensible to go off with a man she just met. Instead, Trowa turned his attention to the women who kept glancing at him and doing the same giggle Catherine now used so often. He tried to ignore them. They thought he was their cousin, and he was not here to find a girlfriend who would date her cousin. However, he overheard some of the women using the phrase “kissing cousin.” This disturbed him as kissing and cousin, or any family member for that matter, should never be used in the same phrase, in Trowa's eyes at least.

Trying to give himself amnesia of that particular conversation he heard, he headed to the bar. He sat down on a stool and turned around with his drink to view the gathering. In the middle of a prestigious hotel lobby, the Bartons had gone all out for their reunion. They had small statues adorning various vacancies of space with garlands trimming the walls and ceiling. There was a live band playing during the day, and an orchestra was scheduled to play at night. No one came dressed in shorts or tank tops, except children who were generally excused from the dress code. The bartender looked him up and down. He then inspected Trowa's nametag and smiled.

“Trowa!” he called in the same tone that Quatre used to greet him, “Where have you been all this time? We heard rumors you were dead, but we knew they couldn't be true. You look better than ever!”

Trowa was not sure how long he stared at the man, but it could not have been long since he did not seem phased by his lack of conversation. Trowa did not look anything like this man's relative save for the fact that they were both male. The man continued talking to him, bringing up past events, and eventually others noticed and joined them. They were all happy to see their cousin they thought was long lost. It baffled Trowa's mind.

He somehow mustered hellos and other greetings to his “relations” and then attempted to discern what exactly happened. They chatted happily with him about their lives since they had seen him. He nodded, feeling a déjà vu. He listened to men complain about their mothers and sisters as well as girlfriends and wives. He heard women criticize their husbands and boyfriends on top of brothers and fathers. The other sex was just so complicated and completely did not understand them.

He let them drone on, drinking and keeping a survey on the crowd. That was when he spotted her. She was sitting by an old man in a wheelchair, joking with him about something. She laughed, throwing her head back, and he recognized her. What was she doing here? What was she doing with that old man? What the hell was she even doing alive?

 

Mariemaia scrutinized her cousins. Before she arrived with her foster mother, they had been running around the place screaming like primates. Now they stood in a straight line at attention, eyes forward. They tried to take shallow breaths only, not to move at all. It amused Mariemaia, but she never let them know. They feared her, and she had more fun traumatizing them then actually playing with them. Even children two or three years older feared her. Life was good. They were at her beckon call.

“Phillip, what did we talk about?” she said to her cousin a year younger, poking his stomach, “I thought we agreed to lay off the sweets. How are you ever going to get through the obstacle course's tubes with this in your way?”

Phillip reddened slightly and stammered, “I-I, my mother likes to r-reward me for-for my g-good grades.”

A boy snickered. Mariemaia marched over to him.

“You think it's funny?” she asked him strictly.

He shook his head fervently “no.”

“I didn't think so, because it would be very unfortunate if you did,” she almost sneered, “We wouldn't want anyone learning about a certain secret.”

“Mariemaia! No!” he practically wailed. The others watched intently at the scene, especially Phillip.

She took a step back from the group and turned to observe them again, “Well, you have all slacked off. It will take time to whip you back in shape, but we can do it. We'll meet back here tomorrow before lunch. I expect to see you all there.” She turned on her heel, stopped, and turned back again, “Oh, and Phillip, good job on your grades.” This time she turned around and walked away. She was beginning to like Phillip. When he found out he was adopted, she was going to have to date him, after he passed the security check from the Preventers of course.

 

Mr. Rash, though he could not walk and his hearing was failing, told amazing jokes. He commented on all the ladies' fashion and on all the men's drinking habits. He made Midii crack up. The reunion became bearable, and she hoped that his son had inherited Mr. Rash's sense of humor. He muttered to her about Evelyn's flashy dress and actually used the phrase “bling-bling,” an old saying she had barely heard anyone use, and she fell into a fit of giggles, throwing her head back in delight.

At that moment, she saw him. He stared attentively at her. It took her a second to register who he was in her mind, but who could forget that hair? She knew he was going to survive, but she never really expected to see No-name again. She did not expect to see him alive at least. She always figured she would be walking in a graveyard one day and would find his grave. It would not be named, but she would just know. Conversely, she thought she might die first, and he would somehow find her grave. She would watch him from Heaven, or maybe Hell; who could tell nowadays?

He advanced.

“We need to talk,” he sounded borderline mad. Surely he did not carry a grudge this long. He seemed understanding when he let her go away. However, she went with him. Midii knew he would be patient but only to a point. It was better to cooperate until she assessed the whole situation.

She looked up at him when he stopped.

“Who are you?”

Was he serious?

“You're not Leia Barton. She died nine years ago,” he explained, “So who are you? Why are you here?”

So, he wanted to play that game.

“I don't think I can tell you,” she said tartly, “I would have to kill you if I told you.”

She looked down to add his name to her bitter remark and almost smirked.

“Of course,” she pointed out slyly, “I don't think you're one to talk, Trowa Barton. You were killed five years ago. My, you have gotten much younger and changed your appearance so much. At least I look like Leia somewhat.”

“Point taken,” he conceded. He briefly gave his explanation on the Gundams and his mysterious past. She then gave an overview of what Quatre Winner had instructed her to do. His eyes lightened at recognition of Quatre's name if nothing else in his demeanor said it.

“You know Winner?” she inquired.

“Yeah, from the war,” he alluded. Quatre was very selective on what he let the general public know on his past during those years. They knew he was a Gundam pilot but not much more. Trowa and the others respected his wishes.

“I see,” she said and turned to go back to Mr. Rash.

He stopped her, “If you're only with that man as a job, may I buy you a drink?”

“Yes,” she gave her order, “I would like a soda since Leia never drank, No-name.”

He had turned to go get her drink, but that name made him stop before he started.

“What did you call me?”

“Surely you remember, No-name. Midii Une? I mean, I know I've grown up some, but you have, too. How can you forget me? You took me in, and I betrayed you, killing everyone you ever knew,” she explained. He looked her up and down.

“Midii?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes. It's me.”

“I remember you. You did all that for your father and brothers. I hope they lived.”

“They did. They're on Earth, at home. With the money I earned from being a spy, the doctors were able to cure my father, and my brothers never whimpered for food again,” she updated him.

He almost smiled, “You don't regret it.”

“I'm sorry your `family' died. I'm sorry I helped kill a lot of people, but it was war. If I didn't kill them, my family and I would have been killed. I wish those people could have lived, but if I had to go back and do it again, I wouldn't change any of it.”

“So you impersonate for a living now?”

He was talking more than she remembered him ever doing.

“When the money is right, yes, I do. Your friend Winner paid a lot of money for this. He pulled me out of another job to do this in fact.”

“What kind of job was that?”

“A girl's got to have her secrets now,” she responded happily, “It's almost time for Mr. Rash's nap. Get my drink to go, and we can have the afternoon to ourselves.”

“Sounds like a date.”

 

They were walking through the artificial woods behind the hotel, and Trowa talked more than she remembered. However, her memory was a few years old, and they had both changed, as well as the circumstances. She smiled and laughed at his jokes. She still did most of the talking. Trowa felt an unusual sense of serenity. While he had already calmed down, he did not realize how much calmer he could be until this girl found him. He used to group his old “friend” as a sister like Catherine; however, he was beginning to see past her image as a sister and perhaps something more.

Unlike Quatre, he knew she was not his “one true love.” She may become it, but falling in love took time. Moreover, she was guarded when they started getting friendly. It seemed to Trowa that she was probably hurt from a past, very recent, boyfriend. That was fine. He could wait until she was ready; if that was what it was, that is. Quatre was a romantic; he was a realist. He was going to take things slowly, not propose on the first date.

Midii requested his thoughts, noticing his normal quietness returning.

“Just us, our future, and how Quatre would have handled this,” he stated.

“Our future?” she asked with uncertainty in her voice.

He nodded. He was about to tell her that there was no rush, he was willing to wait, but before he could, she enacted their new relationship by leaning over and kissing him.

“So much for taking it slow,” he thought.

She seemed to read his mind.

“This isn't exactly going ninety miles per hour, you know. It's just a kiss,” she smirked.

“I know,” he said, “but you seemed distant from our other intimacies, like holding hands. I thought we were—”

She laughed, and he could not help but join in.

“Speed of this relationship aside, have you noticed how strange this family is?” she asked. He asked her to clarify what she meant. “What I mean is that Leia has been dead for almost a decade. She's missed the last two family reunions, they say. Now, the first one, she was busy taking care of her baby, so she couldn't make it, but surely they knew she was dead by the second one she missed. I barely look like her. We have the same hair and eye color, but we're different heights and body builds. Plus, I am much younger.”

“Yes, I have run into the same thing,” he confessed, “The only thing Trowa and I have in common is that we're men. I've kept his name this long, and they somehow got me by mistake.”

“This is one weird family,” Midii noted. Trowa tended to agree with her on that.

 

“Did you hear? Did you see it?” asked Tyler Barton days later.

“No, what is it?” inquired Daphne Barton.

“Trowa and Leia,” gossiped Christy Barton, “They've been spending so much time together.”

“They never get along this well,” Tyler pointed out. The others nodded in agreement.

“What happened to their dates?” wondered Daphne.

“That woman that came with Trowa has gone off with Dix, Rosie's boy. It's like Trowa doesn't care if she hooks up with another guy,” Christy gave insight, “And Leia just left her old man with Aderton, Rachel, and the kids. I don't know what their problem is.”

“Do you think they're planning something?” speculated Daphne.

“Wouldn't surprise me,” Christy notified.

Tyler agreed, “They're probably figuring a way to swindle us all out of our money, and to get the company all for themselves. `Course, I'm not sure why. They always had different views on everything, Earth, the colonies, the families.”

“I know they aren't getting my share,” Daphne reported, “I've been watching Leia very closely this whole time.”

“I have, too,” admitted Christy, “and neither one of them is getting Alvin's share either.” Alvin Barton was her husband. “Things will not be well for any of us with Dekim's heirs conspiring this way.”

 

The last week had been wonderful for Midii. No-name—now Trowa—had helped her find Aderton, so her duties during the day were reduced to none. Aderton was eager to get to know his father, and Rachel and the kids adored Mr. Rash. Thus, Midii spent her days with No-name. Slowly, she started calling him Trowa.

Since they had the day free, usually they abandoned the reunion and went through the town. Midii had taken the liberty of getting some spending money, not too much, from the Winner accounts. Trowa must have assumed this since he never asked her how she got the money. He never questioned how she was able to buy most of the meals. He did, however, insist on paying for the gifts he gave her. The presents he bestowed upon her were not plentiful in number, but they were sweet and frequent nonetheless.

Midii found that she actually humming to herself. Was this what women did when they were in love? Or was it simply implanted in her mind from all the trashy novels she had read in that small shop? It did not really matter. No-name never caught her humming, nor did his supposed sister. She barely saw Midii, in fact, until the day before the last of the reunion when she came and visited the reason for her brother's sudden good mood.

“Why exactly are you here?” Catherine asked sitting in a chair while Midii packed.

“I told your brother, and he told you,” Midii indicated, stuffing a shirt into a suitcase.

“My brother is usually very scrupulous about people's stories, and he normally checks their stories out, but you are something else, it seems. He took your word, and now I want to hear what you have to say,” she explained defensively.

Midii sighed but conceded, “Quatre Raberba Winner's grandfather's friend had an affair years ago with a member of the Barton family. They had a son as the result. The man is dying and wants to meet his son. Because of the differences between the families, he cannot just contact this man, so I decided that I could pose as a member of the family and bring the man into the reunion to find his son.

“Leia Barton was an easy pick. She was dead, so I knew I didn't have to worry about her showing up unexpectedly, but her family still sent a ticket to her for the reunion, as if they didn't know, or didn't believe, she was dead. I checked, and her brother and father were dead, so that was something else I didn't have to worry about. It had been ten years since the Bartons have seen her at least, so I thought it was reasonable to assume that they would not catch on, at least not until after I had ample time to fine Mr. Rash's, Winner's grandfather's friend, son. I was right, and they have yet to figure out who I am. They're quite strange if you haven't noticed.”

For a few minutes, Catherine just stared at her and then spoke, “That will be easy enough to confirm. And you do have someone who can find you out: Leia's daughter, Mariemaia. Trowa told me all he knew of the Barton family when we came to this reunion. I guess you figured that Lady Une wouldn't come here, but she did. She's here with Mariemaia.”

Midii stiffened at the revelation and at her mistake.

“I guess you haven't seen her then,” Catherine decided.

“No, I haven't. No-name—Trowa—and I always leave during the reunion,” Midii nodded.

“Then I would stay away from her,” commented the sister as she stood.

Midii almost smirked at the warning, “Of course.”

“Really,” she said with a stern face, “she can be a menace.” With that, she left, leaving Midii alone again with the suitcase.

“So,” Midii thought silently, “Mariemaia is here. Lady must not be far away either.”

 

Throughout the week of the reunion, Mariemaia was completely agitated. Especially toward the end of the family get-together, the adults all buzzed about Trowa and Leia and if they were trying to cheat them out of their share. Though she could vaguely remember him, Mariemaia was quite sure her uncle Trowa was dead, and she was positive her mother was dead as well. There was that one Preventer who called himself Trowa Barton, but he only worked for a few months on a special case with Wufei. Could he be here undercover as her uncle? Surely Une would have told her about it. Who was the one saying she was her mother?

These questions and more consumed Mariemaia's thinking and concentration. While Lady was slightly worried about her when she got this way, her cousins were delighted. With Mariemaia's attention on her mother and uncle brought back from the dead, they were free to play and to do whatever they liked.

Phillip was slightly concerned about his cousin, but he was happier that she was not around to point out his slight overweight problem to the others. He could never tell if she was trying to be mean or not. She was raised by Uncle Dekim most of her life, so it could be that she thought that was just how you talked to those you deemed inferior without malice. On the other hand, she still could have learned the difference between being mean and nice.

As Mariemaia tried to discern what was happening, a young woman walked up. It was her older cousin Sonia.

“Hey, your mom finally stayed around long enough. I found her,” she informed and took Mariemaia to her theoretical mother.

As she gazed upon Midii, she almost started to laugh hysterically. Though her mother died when she was very young, she knew enough and saw enough picture of her mother to know an imposter when she saw one. The woman, standing next to her great-aunt Daphne and talking to her, was slimmer than her mother had been, at least after having a baby. Her blonde hair was darker, closer to a brunette, than her mother's was. The imposter looked barely old enough to be her mother. Almost thriving on confrontation, Mariemaia boldly walked over to her “mother” and announced in a loud voice,

“You're not my mother!”

 

All eyes turned on Midii and the child in front of her. This must be the infamous little Mariemaia, though she was not quite so little anymore. She was about to leave with Mr. Rash when the imp appeared, blowing her cover. For awhile, Midii could do nothing but stare down at the kid. It seemed like hours. Mariemaia said something, such as if you are my mother, then speak up. Still, Midii stared at the girl. When she finally composed herself, after running through a great number of false explanations, she opened her mouth.

“There you are! Mariemaia!” However, it was Lady Une, not Midii, who spoke the words. She emerged from the crowd looking as stern as any mother. Mariemaia seemed to shrink back some. With all the gazes of the Barton family on them, Lady whisked them out of the lobby and into one of the hotel offices.

“But Mom,” Mariemaia started in a whine.

“Mariemaia, shush. I already spoke to Trowa Barton this morning, and he explained. Quatre Winner confirmed their stories,” Une told her daughter, “Now, I suggest you make sure your things are put away where they need to be, and please don't say anything else to your relatives. I'll come up to the room in a minute to help search for anything left behind, ok?”

Though she looked like she wanted to retaliate, but she instead nodded and marched out like a good little soldier.

Now Lady's gaze turned toward Midii.

“It's the end of the reunion. Mr. Rash will be expecting me. I don't care if those people know I'm a fake now. Catherine Bloom already `interrogated' me, and I got through her security check,” Midii explained. She had not gotten much sleep the night before, Trowa had seen to that, and she wanted to go home for a hot bath and to sleep in her own bed. Thus, she was slightly cranky and not in the mood for any questions the head of the Preventers may want to ask.

“I'm not here to interrogate you, Midii Une,” Lady corrected, “I find it sweet that a former top spy like you would take an elderly gentleman to a family reunion from which he is banned simply so that he can reunite with his long lost son.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Winner made it quite profitable for an easy task,” Midii enlightened.

“I'm sure he did. He has a habit out of paying too much sometimes,” she crossed her arms, “Your as good as any agent I have ever had, and you're better than most, I'm afraid to say.”

“Is this another job offer?” questioned Midii.

“Not unless you're willing to take it this time. You've turned down all the other agents I sent to you. I don't see why you'd join now. Has anything new turned up to change your mind?”

“Not yet, but I'll let you know when something does. I'm quite happy with my current job, and it pays very well,” she smirked.

“I assume it's all legal?” Lady queried, uncrossing her arms and resting a hand instead on her slightly bulging tummy, rubbing it.

“Of course it is. Well, I guess I'll be seeing you,” Midii headed for the door.

“Watch over Trowa,” Lady instructed.

“I will,” Midii promised then turned around before leaving, “Tell Mom I said hi. Dad, the boys, and I all do.”

“I'll do that,” Lady assured, “She says you all need to visit more, and she wants us, you and I, to come see her together.”

“Maybe…tell her I'll think about it, and I'll give Dad the message,” Midii smiled and left the room.

 

“Well, it's done now. I didn't get any boyfriends, but I did have fun,” Catherine smiled, “This family is just a bit too messed up for me. I don't want to get mixed up in it. Speaking of the mixed up family business, I spoke to your friend Quatre about Miss Midii.”

“You just wanted an excuse to call Quatre,” Trowa knew, “Was his friend Charlie there?”

“Sadly, no, he wasn't. I think I interrupted Quatre spending time with his girlfriend because he sounded slightly out of breath, their hair was slightly out of place, and they kept smoothing their clothes on the video-phone,” she relayed, “Anyway, you were right to trust her. Her story does check out, and I'm sorry for being skeptical.”

“You were just worried; I understand,” Trowa let her know as he went to the door to answer a knock. Midii was behind it.

Catherine smiled, “I'll leave you two alone for awhile.” She left the room quickly and quietly.

 

Aderton was talking with his newly found father (Midii had given them some extra time alone before she had to take him home) when he heard the scream. He bolted in the direction of the screech then came back and quickly pushed his father along with him as fast as he could. His aunt Tina was the source of the noise, and everyone had gathered around her. Many people asked what the matter was; all she could do was point at the reason for her shrieks. Midii and Trowa were wide-eyed and pale. The family was confused.

“They were…they were making out!” Tina gasped, “Leia and Trowa were in each other's arms, she was practically in his lap, and he was kissing her! Then his kisses moved down lower, and then I screamed!”

At once everyone groaned and was sickened.

“What is your problem?” someone yelled, “You're brother and sister! What's your problem?”

“Are you two sick or something?” another asked. Aderton noted that Mariemaia was giggling quietly, and her stepmother seemed amused as well. He had to admit that the scene was comical when one had all the information.

“And to think we were worried about them stealing our share of the profits when we really should have been worrying about incest!” proclaimed Daphne Barton.

“What will everyone think when this gets out?” wondered Denise Barton.

“The public will be horrified,” Fiona Barton pointed out.

“The families will never let us forget it,” worried Evelyn Barton.

Others groaned about the bad publicity and the families as well. When Midii and Trowa stood up to leave, the women of the Barton clan slapped the pair, not hard but not too soft either. After securing his father, Aderton helped Ms. Une ward off his family members and get the couple up in a safe room. Mariemaia, following many picture taking moments, joined them in the room. She grinned at her cousins, and Aderton barely noticed his own children slightly cowering and moving toward their mother.

 

Midii sighed and sat on the bed as No-name and Lady Une talked about the safest ways out. She kept Mariemaia close to her as she observed the effect she had on her cousins. The girl did not seem to mind at all. She ignored her cousins for the most part. Taking out a deck of cards, Midii decided to teach the lass some card games she probably did not know.

“This first one is called Egyptian Rat Screw,” Midii informed.

“Rat Screw?” Mariemaia asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Let's just call it Egyptian for short,” Midii decided, “Now, first, we deal out all the cards.” Midii dealt them out, face down, between them. Rachel's children decided they would rather stay with their mother instead of play with their “sweet, little cousin.” Mariemaia went to look at her cards.

“No! No looking,” instructed Midii, “Now, first I go; then you. You have to flip the card by taking the farthest end from you and flipping it over then putting it down, ok? Otherwise you get the advantage. Now, whenever a joker card or doubles, two cards of the same face value, like two twos, two nines, or two jacks, appear, we slap the pile. Whoever's hand hit it first gets the pile. The goal is to get the whole deck.

“When a face card comes up, the next person has to put down another face card, any face card. If it's a jack, then that person has one try. If it's a queen, you get two tries, two cards to flip. A king gets you three tries, and an ace earns you four. If you get a face card, then the next person has to try for however many your face card's worth. When a person cannot produce a face card, than the person who puts down the face card, the last one, gets the pile.

“If you slap when you shouldn't, then you have to put two cards down on the bottom of the pile, and even if there's a joker or a double, you can't slap it. If a double or joker comes up during the face card thing, then whoever slaps it first gets the pile, not the person who put the card down. Get it?” she fully explained.

“No, but I think I will if we just play,” Mariemaia suggested, “Why aren't you helping them find a way out?”

“Eh, let them do all the thinking for me,” Midii said, “I've had to think of enough escapes in my lifetime. If they want to do it so badly, I'll let them do it once in awhile. Let me just rest.”

 

Trowa had just finished discussing the getaway plan with Lady. Catherine came back from the lobby to give the report: the Bartons were steaming mad and a mob of reporters were awaiting them outside. Some had already managed to get inside. Cathy already had to deal with two that popped out of the ladies' room, and then she had to receive some nasty looks from Trowa's “aunts.” She was more than ready to get home to the circus. Just walking down the hall to get some ice, people, guests and paparazzi, were already questioning him, asking for his autograph. He tried to indulge when children asked for his signature. Most of the guests did not know why the reporters were after him and Midii; they only knew that they were, and they wanted autographs from the celebrities.

“So this is what Quatre said he, Relena, and Dorothy went through,” he understood as he finally completed the two meter walk back to the hotel room.

Aderton volunteered to take their bags down to their cars, and he took his father down, too, so that he would not get in the way when they made their escape. Lady was discussing something with Cathy. Rachel and the kids had left when they were not needed. Midii was playing some card game with Mariemaia that included a lot of slapping and giggling as far as he could tell. He looked out the window again; the crowd had doubled in size. It appeared that sibling incest was a very hot news item, and it attracted attention from the whole colony. He had not known this many people were even on it.

Aderton came back and nodded that it was the best time they were going to get. Lady whispered something to Cathy quickly, then wished them good luck, and took Mariemaia out of the room. Midii quickly assembled the cards and dashed to Trowa's side.

“So, what's the plan? Are we going to swing out the window, repel down the side of the hotel with the bed sheets, then jump-slash-fall down the rest of the way into a waiting truck that will take us off to the spaceport?” Midii hypothesized.

“That's good, but no,” Trowa informed her, “I talked to the hotel manager, and he's agreed to help us escape. He's going to have a delivery truck come to the loading zone, and we'll get in there, and it'll take us to the spaceport.”

“My plan was much more glamorous,” Midii commented.

“Yes, but I don't think it was doable,” he said.

“Well, I've had to do it before,” she told him as she ran down the hallway.

He gave her a weird look as he ran with her, “Do I even want to know?”

“Don't forget, Trowa,” Catherine warned as she joined them, running down the staircase, “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“No, that's not true,” Midii amended as she got in the van, “Curiosity didn't kill the cat. Curiosity made the kittens!”

 

Midii sniffed for the millionth time that day. The allergies were getting to her, and she decided she must be allergic to all pollen. Her throat was scratchy, she kept sneezing, her eyes watered, and there were many other allergic reactions happening in her body. However, when she was able to look past her allergies, it was a nice day. It was sunny and warm, and the clouds were white, puffy, and few. Back on Earth, she was sitting next to Trowa and Catherine at a table on the patio of the Winner estates. They were joining Quatre Raberba Winner and his girlfriend so that Midii could give her report.

“It sounds good,” Winner praised, “Mr. Rash got to meet his son, and now they are a family, and you even found a boyfriend. It's great because Trowa really needed a girlfriend. It's been awhile since he's had one.”

“Quatre!” Trowa groaned.

“What? It's true,” Quatre defended.

“Well, it is true,” Catherine agreed, “You did need one, and now you have a great one! Midii's wonderful.”

She thanked Catherine for the praise.

“I saw that your relationship made the front page,” Quatre's girlfriend smirked. Winner chuckled.

“Yes, everyone was shocked,” Quatre smiled, “All my sisters and aunts called to say `I told you so.'”

“You should have seen the looks on the Bartons,” Trowa smirked, “They were traumatized apparently. We tried to explain who we were, but they wouldn't believe us. They thought we were making it up to cover our incest or something.”

“Yes, the public got a double-whammy,” Midii concurred, “First they find out that we're alive, albeit different looking, and then they discover we secretly have a relationship. They think Mariemaia's really Trowa and Leia's child now instead of Treize's daughter.” She sneezed a few times, receiving many bless-yous, and began to rub her temple in an attempt to lull her headache. Trowa picked up the other half of her sandwich and took a bite.

“What will you do now, Midii?” inquired the girlfriend, speaking up again.

“I'm not sure yet. I think for awhile I'll see what circus life is like, and who knows after that? I'll probably go see my mother in a month or so,” Midii suggested, “Trowa, what's your problem?” He had a look of disgust on his face.

“What is in this sandwich?” he asked loudly. Midii laughed.

“It's a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” Quatre informed, chuckling again, “They're Midii's favorite.”

Instead of asking how Quatre knew this information, Trowa asked, “Why? Why would you eat this?”

“It's good,” Midii insisted.

“No, it's not,” Trowa disagreed.

“I like them,” the girlfriend agreed with Midii, “They're good, really.”

“They're better than soup,” Catherine pointed out. Trowa made a gesture of defeat with Midii and agreement with Catherine.

“Oh, Duo misses you,” Quatre told Midii, “So, I'm guessing that he'll want you to come back to the shop after you visit the circus.”

Midii shook her head, “Of course he misses me. I'm the only one who can help him out with Hilde, or so he thinks.”

“Isn't that Charlie coming up, Catherine?” questioned the girlfriend. Catherine turned in her seat excitedly and confirmed the query. She smiled at the table and got up to greet him halfway. The couple then made a right turn and left the party.

“Have you set a wedding date?” asked Winner with a grin.

“Quatre, just because you've already set one, doesn't mean the rest of us set a date within the first week of dating,” Trowa said.

“The seventh of June, AC 202; you're both invited,” Midii spoke up right after him with a smirk.