The holy disclaimer : GW may not be mine... But I don't care! So there!!! :p :p

The notes : Hi Midii! Care to share a piece of tasty 3x12 fluffish hentai with me?
Cherry... Thanx for your luscious Dx4, which inspired to finish this!

6h27

Trowa Barton, part-time clown and world united deadpans leader, supressed a yawn as he finished typing a seventeen pages long report on their latest mission, which has been, thanks to Heero's inimitable sense of festivities, an excellent reason to waste paper and time. Regarding the fact that a prescribed report was supposed to contain a detailed -and plausible- explanation for each explosion, each dead body, each bullet shoot (Accidentally or not)... He needed a nap.

Quatre has probably already finished typing his version, which would be smooth, comprehensive and thus very short (A smooth version of a mission led by Heero didn't stand details, or it became a gore movie...).Wufei would, as usual answer that he didn't have to account for his actions to a bunch of weak onnas and Duo... Duo would give his own version of the mission's development, which would probably include aliens, flying donuts and other things that he didn't want to think to, or else he wouldn't be able to keep working efficiently.

The only honest report remaining would, as always, be his. Each time he re-read his reports, he was amazed at how he found ways to express blankly things that no one would dare to believe, nor imagine. He smiled briefly, wondering what would be Lady Une's face if he typed the naked truth, something like "and then, Preventer Maxwell had to hid behind a door, since Preventer Yuy had clearly announced his intention to nuke him. Which is why thirty hand-grenades were used to make explode a plywood WC door." Relaxed by this pleasant thought and the fact that he had -actually- found an explanation which wasn't involving aliens, for the whole WC door incident, he stirred like a cat, wincing as his cramped muscles begged him to leave that tiny chair to either have a walk, either sprawl themselves on the couch.

He finally opted for the most appealing offer, which was the couch, and sat lazily flipping through the channels of the television. He hadn't seen where the interest of the activity lied, at first, then, after having been introduced by Duo to the charms of couch-potating, he had tacitly admitted that it was part of being a boy to laze on the couch after 23hrs, and that, even though he liked his trailer, it was cool to have a flat... Because there is enough room for a couch. (And also because he didn't get to clean the cages as often as he had used to, but shhh, that was a secret.)
So he started looking for anything watchable, which was pretty rare on Friday nights, but our hopes are what keeps us going on, eh? After an intensive zapping, he settled for a documentary about... Lions. Feeling that he wouldn't learn much more tonight, he decided to simply go to bed. Anyway, he had agreed to do some jogging with Duo and Quatre the following day, 'at dawn'. To be utterly sincere, he didn't really fear to be forced to wake up too early since, for his friends, 'dawn' usually meant 'when I'll wake up', better immediatly say 'at 11', in this case, he thought, while pouring himself a glass of fresh water.

He walked quietly to his room, and slipped tiredly in his sheets, putting his glass on the floor, near enough for him to reach it if needed. He struggled with his pillow to find the 'right' place for a while, before turning the lights down. He barely had the time to close his eyes.

... .... ..... BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! (Annoying, eh?)

He sat up abruptly, groping in the dark to find the vid-com, and was rewarded by the smiling face of... Lady Une?

"Good evening, Preventer Barton. Did I wake you up?"

"Do I have to answer?" Came his gruff voice.

"No. The reason of this call is that Yuy and Winner are currently incommunicado, Chang has already refused this mission, and Maxwell... Maxwell has obviously disconnected his phone, and we'll have a little talk about this later..."

Trowa immediatly felt sorry for Duo, but mainly focused on the fact that Wufei had refused to do the job, which was uncommon, to say the least. "So, what is it?"

"We will soon have a new permanent member, actually, our new preventer arrives tomorrow, I need somebody, to introduce her to our way of functioning, and she will join you on the latest dossiers. Can I trust you to do it?"

*Her??* "Why me?"

"Because you are the only one I managed to contact."

"I guess I'll do it, then."

"Fine! She will join you in Wien, her shuttle is the 56B30, gate 9, 6h17. Goodnight!"

"Pardon?"

"I know... But any time is the right time." [End communication]

"Wien... 6... h... 17. And when, exactly, do I sleep?" Trowa uttered. The words seemed caught in his throat, as he got up and started to pack up, and he had the feeling that he had been somewhat conned, there...

Midii Une, freshly recruted preventer, ex-spy and pancakes addict, leaned back tiredly in her seat. The fly had gone smoothly, but the ever crying five years old and his lightning-makes-real-sounds-can-shoot-the-villains truck had made it difficult for her to fall asleep. She glanced at her watch -6h01- Thank God it would be soon over, and she would need a breakfast, really really bad...

Trowa tapped impatiently his foot on the platform. He was cold. He was tired. He had been late and had skipped the coffee which was supposed to help him stay awake. And if that dog didn't stop licking itself in front of him, he would have to do something drastic. 6h19 : No shuttle. Somebody was going to pay for this.

Midii felt the urge to scream when the sweet voice of the stewardess announced, that "Due to technical difficulties" the shuttle would "be a bit late". A talking teddy bear now?? That kid had to die.

"... a ten-minute delay in the flight from Nice."

Trowa balled his fists. He had made up his mind. If at 6h27 the shuttle wasn't there, he would shoot the dog and pretext a security reason. His preventer jacket would help.

He hadn't seen it coming : a hand tapped softly on his shoulder, and he turn around to find himself staring at two beautiful, blue grey, and astounded eyes.

"Nanashi?" A sweet voice murmured, still the same tone.

"Midii."

"Is... Is it you?" She looked as surprised as him, if not more.

"My name is Trowa Barton, now."

Sensing the professional tone, she took her own, "Fine. shall we leave, preventer Barton?"

The ride to the hotel was silent and none of them dared to suggest the breakfast they were both yearning for. But one question, nagged them relentlessly -though they kept a diplomatic silence-, after having read the mission orders. Civilian clothes could be useful, but who was ever going to believe that they were a young married couple if they kept ignoring each other??

Once in the vast hotel hall, Midii used all her talents to look like a blissful bride in honeymoon, to make up for Trowa's total absence of enthusiasm, however, the minute she entered the room, the mask fell. "Could you try to act a bit more convincing?" She demanded, her eyes stern.

"One question. How?" Came the blank reply.

"How what??"

"How did you end up being a preventer?" His voice was cold, wary.

"Short version : I worked a lot here and there, and one day somebody came and asked if I wanted to work for a good cause. I said yes. Believe it or not, I felt like I had to atone for my sins."

He was surprised at her honesty and the slight irritation he had sensed in her tone, but didn't show it, opting for being professional. "I'm not asking for a long one. I forgave you long ago, full stop."

"I see..." She sighed.

"Here's the plan.... Look... I'll be waiting for you there..."

Midii sighed as she plopped herself on the huge bed. This mission has been a joke, a lousy disk to steal and a few bald mafiosi... She couldn't even understand why she had been forced to work with him, she could have very well done it alone... And now he was there, still staring at nothing, acting as if she wasn't here at all. She hated to think that despite his cold shoulder, she still felt like the little girl she had been, in awe, addicted. That wasn't fair. Becoming angrier by the minute, she sat up and went it the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Preventer Barton didn't even blink.

He eventually moved, when the vid-com beeped insistantly. Sally wanted news, and good news, she would have them.
After a long report on the day's event and the mission success, Duo pushed Noin and sally out of the screen with a demonic grin on his face.

"Oi Tro-boy! Sooo... How are things with your chick?"

"We were here to work."

"Of course... But how is she?! Underwear color?? Perfume brand??"

"We were here to work."

"Okay... I see. I'll leave you then. But you know, you're the only one to be alone! It sucks!"

"Goodnight Duo."

After he had hung up, he stared blankly at the wall for a few minutes, reflecting on Duo's last remark. It was true, actually, he had never really cared before, but he had to admitted that it was true.
Duo had been the first to venture in the 'unknown zone', immediatly -litterally- after the war was over. He had witnessed the ackward love declaration to a barely conscious Hilde, and, later, Duo's endless explanations and smutty details about "IT".
Wufei and Sally had come to the conclusion that 1) Yes, women were weaklings. 2) BUT, Sally wasn't a woman, she was a preventer, so it was Okay.
Heero had made stunning progress (Well... For Heero.) in his autistic relationship with Relena.
And last but not least, he had almost gasped when, one fine night, around a glass of non-alcoholic champagne, a beet-red Quatre had revealed him that he had 'that sort of dreams' about... Vixen number one, Cruella deVil, Scar, Darth Vador, Satanas, Diabolo... Dorothy Catalonia.

And now... He was the only one to be alone, well, not exactly, since Midii was taking a shower a few meters (and a wall) away. But it wasn't the same. Or was it? He was confused, to say the least. He knew he hadn't been lying when he had said he had forgiven her. Had he ever been really mad, anyway? He had asked himself a few times what he would do if he met her again, before, and he had always come to the conclusion that, if he hadn't been able to kill her that fateful day, he would never be.
He wondered why he had never told Catherine about Midii... Maybe she would have understood his feelings better than he did, she always did. The more he tried the more he failed. And the ceiling wasn't bringing any answers either.
Was forgiving enough to call it love? Regarding to what she had done, he realized he must have been somehow attracted to her, back then, to spare her. No. That wasn't true. He had been fond of her from the start. No matter how poor his social skills were, he always managed to stay near her. He had never been confronted to a girl specimen, and his curiosity had soon turned into fascination. That was time he had decided that girls were definitively interesting creatures.

Not that he was running, drooling after every single skirt he saw like Duo, but still, now that the war was over, he was starting to be painfully (and nightly) aware of what it was -exactly- to be an hormone-loaded teenagee male.

Talking of interesting creatures... The most interesting one had just left the bathroom and was staring at him silently, akimbo.
He stared back and, after a few minutes of staring/blinking he eventually understood that she was expecting him to sleep either on the floor or on the couch. He got up slowly, taking a pillow, and made his way towards the couch, under her patient stare.

Sensing that there wouldn't be more to say, she turned off the lights and slipped in the huge bed. A tiny smile played across her lips as she snuggled in the covers, at the place he had been lying just moments ago. It was warm, and the pillow held what she could only describe as his scent, though she couldn't identify it clearly.

She watched him toss in the tiny couch, trying to find a suitable position, which wasn't easy, as it seemed.

"You don't sleep?" She whispered, kicking the covers aside.

"No, and you?" He groaned.

"No. Wanna chat?"

"Do we have anything to chat about?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Let's find out!" She giggled softly, gesturing for him to sit on the bed near her. Which he did happily, though he made sure not to show it. This couch was starting to give him a headache.

"You're still as silent." She observed, watching the cars and the red and golden lights illuminating the night, through the window.

"..."

"I can sing. It would at least cheer the mood." She remarked ironically, watching him stare through the window too.

"No."

"Poetry, then."

"If I say yes, will you stop babbling?"

"Only if you find the poet. You're invading my bed, anyway."

"Really...?" Trowa sighed.

"Tout cela ne vaut pas le poison qui decoule De tes yeux, de tes yeux verts, Lacs où mon âme tremble et se voit à l'envers..."

"Nothing can compare to the poison that flows From your eyes, your green eyes, Lakes where my soul shivers and sees itself upside down..."

"Baudelaire? My... Aren't we romantic..."

"As far as I'm concerned, nobody has ever described green eyes so well..." Midii whispered, looking at his eyes in the process.

Trowa found himself unable to utter a single word, as the meaning of the verses sunk in. All he could do was to gaze at those beautiful shimmering blue grey eyes.

"Nanashi...? I missed you know... I didn't lie. I wanted to be with the one I loved... With the one I love."

He felt the annoyance being replaced by a longing, somehow, despite the tragic ending that had stained theri childhood, he wanted those years back, the innocence, the feeling of having somebody... To care about. "I... I missed you too. I cared." He murmured, barely believing he was voicing it.

There was an eerie silence between the two at the sudden and unexpected confession. And, for a small eternity, lavender bore into emerald with all the intensity of pent up emotions and words that would probably never be said. Something stirred in Trowa's mind and, progressively, everything faded, the only thing left were those trembling rosy lips, daring him to try and kiss her. His sense of calculations abandoned him and he closed the distance between them, hesitantly brushing her soft lips with his.
Midii closed her eyes... She had wanted this for so long. She moved her lips against his, marvelling at he sensations. She could feel his warm breath and his erratic heartbeat, pressed so close to him. As she felt his arms wrap around her, she decided that now was the time for an experiment. She pulled back first, leaving a visibly shaken and almost blushing Trowa, and bit her lower lip, trying to find how to proceed. She eventually decided herself.

"Close your eyes." She whispered.

Trowa was in a complete daze and was too happy to comply to her wish. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, until her lips were once again teasingly brushing his, and gave a tentative lick at his numb lips.
Trowa could have stopped breathing when he felt what could only be a tongue slid between his lips, caressing them, coaxing his mouth open, and he felt a rush of warmth travelling all over his body as their tongues touch and slid against each other, fondling, battling.
They eventually parted to breathe, -though it seemed minor, at that precise moment- but he kept suckling hungrily at her lower lip, his hands massaging her back.

She let out a little sigh at the feel of his hands and instinctively ran her hands down his chest, feeling the supple skin and the tense muscles through the light fabric of the tee shirt. When her fingers met a hard little nub, causing him to gasp, she stopped, finally realizing where this was heading to. Her eyes met his and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel like a preventer, an ex-spy or a sinner, but simply like a woman. She became aware of her own body, watching it through his eyes. And the only thing she saw was love. Love and desire.

She wasn't sure of what she was about to do, but the previous sensations tended to prove that this could undoubtedly be good, so she steeled herself in her resolve, and slowly but surely, lifted his Tee shirt over his head, blushing all the way, until it landed on the floor, near the bed. She raised her head and stared at the smooth, well defined chest, as well the small hard nipples that she had felt moments before. She couldn't help but blush harder, and, judging by his silence, it was obvious that they had reached the point where their 'science' ended. Trowa looked at her with a lost look and she said the only thing she could think to.

"Your turn." Midii gasped.

He nodded uncertaintly and bent down, kissing and nipping at her neck, while he unbuttoned her pajamas shirt with trembling hands. When he was done with he last button, the silky material fell to reveal her naked body, the only garment still fighting for decency being a pair of anise green lace panties. He drank in the sight of the exposed creamy flesh, her softly rounded feminine curves and two small and firm breasts.

He resumed kissing her, nibbling feverishly at her lips and pulled her in a long hug, reveling in the feel of her soft body against his. Then, as if in a trance, he progressively lowered her, so that he was on top of her, having complete access to her body. She gasped at her new position, her spy instincts telling her that she was helpless, but she had resolved herself in trusting him and would do so.

Sensing her brieve tension, he looked at her in the eyes, comforting her silently and began his exploration of the new territory. She closed her eyes as his lips worked their way down her throat, until they reached the hollow of her neck, feeling him stop to breathe in her silky blonde locks.
Trowa Barton had died and gone in heaven. It couldn't be real, the way she was lying there, offered, the way she sighed whenever he touched her. He let his hands wander on her body, as well as his lips, tasting her skin, her smell. He earned himself an interrogative stare through heavy-lided when he stop to kiss her ankles, and felt her arch towards him when he finally dared to lay both his hands flat on her breasts. She let out tiny moans as he cupped them precautiously and rubbed his calloused thumbs against the tight little peaks, and her arms locked reflexively around him when he bent down and tentatively took one in his mouth.

Midii squirmed on the bed, oblivious to everything, it felt strange, yet so good. She could feel his tongue circling teasingly her nipple and each move of the warm and wet muscle send tinglings throughout her body. There was an aching sensation that seemed to spread in waves inside her, and the more he pleasured her, the more she felt frustrated. The sensations increased steadily, never relieving the ache, never giving in.

Her soft erotic moans and sighs filled Trowa with male pride, to say the least, and he let his right hand graze her innerthighs slowly, his goal obvious. Midii eyes snapped open a the feeling of explorative fingers caressing her wet panties and at the hot arousal that she noticed for the first time, as it was pressing slightly against her thigh, proof, if needed, that the effect she had on him was quite real.
The soft whimpering became sheer audible moans as his fingers pushed the silky material down her legs and claimed her womanhood, grazing the glistening curls, caressing urgently the damp petals, and finding her clitoris. She winced, at first, and he assumed that the little bud was to be taken with great care. Once he had found a softer rhythm, Midii hold onto him seemingly for dear life, reflexively bucking against the fingers eased inside her tight passage and the unbearable stimulation of his thumb circling mercilessly the pulsing little nub.

Her head was spinning, and her heart beating to fast for her. Her senses soon went to overload and she lost her voice for a few seconds, unable to voice the emotions and the sensations raking through her, her whole body tensing, finally seeking the releasing it had been looking for, each spasm bringing more pleasure. Trowa watched her intently, not missing a single details, from the expression of tormented bliss on her face, to the light sweat shining on her skin. He felt his arousal becoming almost painful at the sight of her orgasm.

When she went back down from her own little heaven, she found herself staring in those deep green eyes, clouded with a lust that she had never thought she would ever see in them. His breathing had become uneven, like hers, and he was imploring her silently. Sensing that the role were reversed, and quite uninhibited by her previous experiment, she began to rub her thigh sensuously against the hardness she felt through his boxers. His eyes slid shut at the fierce teasing sensation, and it wasn't long before he couldn't repress low moans, uttered rhytmically with each move of her thigh.
After a few minutes of this treatment, however, she stopped, not wanting to push it too far, and a serious and hesitant look appeared on her delicate features. She raised her head to kiss him exploratively, and her hand caressed his sides tenderly, before her fingers hooked in his boxers and pushed them down his legs slowly. She achieved slipping them off, helping herself with her feet, and closed her eyes as she felt him move to position himself between her legs.

Once he was covering her, he held her gingerly for a few moments, looking for any signs of disapproval on her face, he found none. She opened her lavender eyes slowly and sighed confidently, a tiny smile playing on her lips, as if to conceal her own nervosity about the whole ordeal. She burried her face in his shoulder as he pushed precautiously inside her, feeling her tight walls stretching to accomodate him. The next step would be the hardest to take and she held him tighter as he shattered her virginity in one single thrust. He held momentarily still and she fel his finger brush something on her cheek. A tear? It didn't hurt that much... Why was she crying? Maybe it was just too intense, the way they were one. A closeness that nothing compares to...

She looked up at his concerned face and smiled, to reassure him. It didn't really hurt, now, and the foreign body invading her was actually stirring a renewed need deep inside her. Instinctively, she writhed under him to make him move. Trowa inhaled sharply at the feeling of her tight passage pulsing around him and, carried away by her sighs and her little moves, he began a slow and steady rhythm, agonizing for him, but Midii seemed to progressively enjoy it. When her moans rose once again, filling the room, he assumed she was 'confortable' and allowed himself to speed up his pace, thrusting deep and hard.
He barely felt her clung to his shoulder to the point of scratching his skin, as he was lost in a haze of pleasure. Each thrust pushing him a little bit more towards the edge, the feeling of her warmth and her moans intoxicating.
Midii continued to unconsciously scratch his back, arching her body to meet his thrusts, and sending the covers and the pillows all over the bed. Then it hit her, for the second time, that intense and fuzzy wave of sensations. She felt its warmth spread in her, and she came with a sob.
Trowa felt her contract eratically around him and the feeling of her tight walls squeezing him was the last blow. He felt something tighten inside him and released himself with a low groan, spilling himself deep in her womb, before collapsing on top of her, letting her cuddle him softly.

He made himself comfortable in the heap of pillows and discarded sheets they had generated, feeling drained of any energy he could have, and tilted his head to watch her. She was lying silently, the only noise audible her calm breathing, with a blissful little smile, her eyes closed.

"I can still feel it... You know." She whispered, drawing his hand and laying it softly on her her lower belly.

"It kinda tingles... There." She pursued, covering his hand with hers.

Her statement and the warm and fuzzy post-orgasmic atmosphere in the room made him immediatly reconsider his intention of sleeping. He would have a whole life to rest, but now... She simply aroused him too much.

Trowa awoke with a feeling of being sat beyond anything possible. He glanced at his watch, on the floor.

6h27

He looked at the sleeping Midii.a faint smile on his features. He pondered the hour for a while, funny... They've "officially" been knowing each other for twenty-four hours. What would Duo say if he learned that somebody had been quicker than him. He couldn't picture himself throwing intimate details as easily as the 'God of Mess', but it was a victory he would have to savour...

He felt Midii stir and snuggle against him, her breath warm on his skin, the silky strands of golden hair tickling him.

"Preventer Une...?"

"Mmmh?"

"Care to join me for breakfast?"

So? liked it? Loathed it? Pleez, read and review and...

Moleman - That was a LAMON...

Lg - Shut up! My lemon wasn't THAT lame!!

T - What about a sequel??

Lg - Usually, it's the readers who ask for it (Or beg you not to write anything anymore... -_-;)

T - I read it! I was there!! I demand a sequel!!

Lg - I can write something angsty...

T - Nononono... You have to stay in the same category, or else it won't work.

Lg - ?????

T - Do another lemon...