"You see, I'm terrified of air travel, even, so you can imagine how I feel about this," the dark-haired girl in the aisle seat next to Zechs was babbling incoherently. He had to wonder who let her travel alone if she was this incapacitated with fear. She was only about Relena's age. "So," she continued, fingers drumming madly on the armrest, eyes too bright, "Have you ever travelled in space before? I never have, but I know a lot of people do, and-"

"I have. A number of times," he answered.

"Oh, well, that's really impressive. Do you take a lot of business trips or have family off colony, or-"

"My sister's on Earth," Zechs replied, taking the easy way out of the question.

"Oh, so are you just going to visit, or is there-"

"That's right," he interupted, wondering if he'd survive the 22 hour journey. At least he wouldn't have to worry about falling asleep.

"It's moving! I can't watch!" the girl informed him, clapping her hands over her eyes and resolutely turning into the aisle. "What does your sister do?" she wanted to know, slowly lowering her hands, but still not looking at him

"She's in politics," Zechs responded.

"Really? Well, it's a small solar system, isn't it? I'm going to Earth to work as a translator for the Foreign Ministry…"

Zechs smiled. "You might be working with my sister then. That's her department."

"What's her name?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Zechs debated - chances were, if he told her Relena's name, she'd be too surprised to talk to him anymore - or maybe too scared. On the other hand, the last thing this poor little thing needed was more to be afraid of. So he'd ignore the question…

"A translator? What are your languages?"

"English, Japanese, Italian, French, German, Chinese.." she recited, leaning her head against the back of her seat.

"That's an impressive number. You're fluent in all of them?"

"Uh huh... I'm learning Russian and Spanish..." her incessant chatter had fallen off, and as the shuttle started to pick up speed on the runway, she was looking a bit ill.

"Hey - are you all right?" he asked.

"No," she squeaked.

"Don't worry," Zechs told her kindly. "Getting through the atmosphere is the worst part, and even that isn't that bad. And you have 22 hours to get ready for it."

"Or dread it," she whispered.

"Most people think the zero-gravity is fun. People hardly ever get sick..."

"Har...hardly ever?" she stuttered, as the docking bay doors opened. She suddenly reached for her bag. "I...I have...prescription...sedatives...." she gasped, shuffling through her belongings. She extracted an amber-colored bottle half-full of white tablets. Fumbling with the child-proof white lid, the girl ended up handing the bottle to Zechs to open for her, pills rattling as her hand shook.

"Two tablets, six hours between doses, with plenty of water?" Zechs confirmed, glancing at the label.

"I…I need to sleep now!" she explained, twitching. "How about four?" she wheedled.

"I don’t think so. Stewardess…" he called to the passing flight attendant, "could I get some water please?"

"Certainly sir. I’ll be right with you."

"But…I…"the girl stammered – the shuttle had nearly reached the doors, and beyond them, the stars shone brilliantly, "I don’t want to be conscious!" she wailed.

"Space is beautiful. You don’t want to miss it entirely."

Something in the girl – her self-restraint, perhaps - snapped. "The Hell I don’t, now gimme the damn pills!" she ranted.

"Please calm down," Zechs told her gently.

"I will not calm down! You don’t seem to understand what I’m going through here," she accused, her expression settling somewhere between a glare and a pout.

At least when she was angry, she wasn’t twitching.

"Yes,…I do," Zechs replied, not looking up. He knew what it felt like to be so unreasoningly afraid that your soul seemed to want to claw its way out of your body… To have every instinct screaming at you to run – and be trapped – enclosed within the confines of a cockpit, your hands slippery with sweat on the controls…

"Here’s your water, sir," the stewardess said, smiling at the handsome young man with long blonde hair.

"Thank you very much," he answered politely, taking the styrofoam cup.

"Enjoy your trip," she concluded, continuing down the aisle.

Zechs popped the lid off of the bottle of sedatives and tapped two into the girl’s expectant hands. She took the cup of water, barely avoiding spilling it all over him, and paused with it half way to her mouth.

"Please…just…this once?" she ventured, giving it one last try.

"No."

With one last poisonous glare, she downed both pills in one gulp.

Seconds later, whatever water had been left in the cup was now soaking into Zechs’ sweater.

"Oh, I’m so sorry. My hand slipped. The…turbulence?"

"We’re in space," Zechs pointed out, voice flat.

She squeaked again, grabbing her armrests. "Why did you have to remind me of that?" she demanded quietly.

"I’m sorry," Zechs sighed, pulling the wet sweater away from his skin.

"Should be," she muttered, yanking an enormous book out of her bag and settling resolutely into her seat with it, waiting for her drugs to take effect.

Zechs laid his head back against his seat, closing his eyes. He wasn’t tired…not really. He’d had coffee at the spaceport…and…before that. His life seemed to stretch out behind him in an endless stream of empty coffee cups. When was the last time he’d slept eight consecutive hours? Last week? Perhaps two weeks ago? To be painfully honest with himself, he was almost afraid to sleep… At this point, relaxing enough to fall asleep would take a supreme act of will. Then again…

Zechs woke with a start, breathing hard. Sitting up straighter, he rubbed his eyes and glanced to his left at the girl, who had her seat reclined and was curled up on her side in the fetal position. Most of the other passengers were asleep as well – here and there the soft dimness was broken by the glow of a reading light, and somewhere farther up the aisle, childish voices were whispering. The stewardess floated past, propelling herself forward on the bars connected to the overhead compartments. Zechs turned his head to stare out of his window at the stars. With no point of reference, it was hard to tell that the shuttle was moving at all.

The images of his dream were fleeing like shadows from the first light of dawn, and Zechs let them go. Lately, the less he remembered of them, the better. Something had scared him pretty thoroughly, though.

"You never told me your sister’s name," a quiet voice stated thoughtfully. "You never told me your name, either."

"It’s not as though you’ve told me yours," he pointed out. She snorted. Zechs turned back to face her. "But, my sister’s name is Relena Da-"

"That’s a pretty name," she interupted drowsily.

He glanced at the digital clock mounted under the overhead compartments several seats up. "It’s been over six hours, now…" he told her.

"Good…knock me out again before I wake up the rest of the way, please," she begged. "Oh, and incidentally - if you don’t mind my asking," the girl began slowly while they were waiting for the stewardess to return with more water, sounding much more awake than she had a moment ago, "why should you care if some neurotic stranger in the seat next to you overdoses on tranquilizers?"

"Why shouldn’t I?"

She shrugged. "I guess I’m just used to people minding their own business."

"It would be a terrible thing, to die because of a foolish mistake." Zechs replied after a moment.

The girl looked down at her hands. "Thank you then. For not minding your own business."

"There’s no shame in it Hildie," Duo gloated. "After all, I am –"

"Just…just shove it Duo," Hildie interupted, dropping the controls in disgust. "It’s just a waste of time anyway."

"That’s not true at all. It’s a way to hone your instincts and –"

"Fry your brain?" Heero suggested. Duo didn’t seem to be able to finish a sentence today.

"Hey, that hasn’t been proven!" Duo retorted indignantly. "Come on Hildie, best out of three?" Duo pleaded, offering the video game controls back to her.

"No way," she denied, standing from her cross-legged position on the floor and sitting next to Quatre on the couch. "I’ve embarassed myself enough for one day, thank you all the same."

Duo surveyed the rest of the occupants of the rec-room in Relena’s house. It beat him why she had the video game system – he had a hard time picturing her using it, and somehow he doubted you’d be likely to find Heero "frying his brain" on it when he visited her… But then, Relena was just thoughtful enough to have it there for their use while they were visiting. Their next seminar wasn’t until that afternoon, and they were all killing time until Relena and Noin got back from picking up Zechs at the spaceport. That is… he was killing time. Wufei wasn’t around – he was probably off meditating somewhere, Trowa was buried in an enormous textbook, Quatre was sitting with his laptop on his lap, finishing his speech and sending messages to his sisters, Heero was reading, and Hildie had been his opponent in the racing game…

"Why are you embarassed?" Quatre was asking her, not looking up from his computer screen. "I mean, it’s just a game."

"Well, you wouldn’t know that, the way Duo acts about it," she teased, winking at Duo.

"Whaddaya say, Trowa? Bet you can’t beat me either," Duo challenged, holding out the controller.

"Hm. Well, whether I could or not, I have to do this…" he answered, not looking up from his homework.

He was bored!

"Come on Quatre, how about a friendly game?"

"Well, maybe after I finish this…" Quatre put him off, keys clicking out a quick staccato under his deft fingers.

Duo’s shoulders slumped, and Hildie grinned smugly at him.

"I won’t even bother asking Heero," Duo began, smirking.

"Good," Heero interjected, turning a page.

"…’cause I know he’d be too ashamed to lose to me," Duo concluded.

Heero looked up from his book.

"Lose?"

"Hey…hey, wake up, we landed." Zechs tapped the girl on the shoulder.

"Wha…it…it’s over?" she responded groggily, closing her unread book and rubbing at her eyes.

"That’s right. It’s time to get off the shuttle," he told her, standing and helping her to her feet.

Gathering their bags, the passengers started filing towards the exit. With the girl stumbling down the ramp behind him, Zechs scanned the terminal for familiar faces - Relena was waving and grinning from not far away.

The girl stopped in her tracks and blinked repeatedly. "The Vice Foreign Minister is waving at you, I think," She pointed out helpfully to Zechs. "Why is that, would you say?"

"That’s Relena, my sister," he told her, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

"Oh. Of course." She blinked again. She opened her mouth, then closed it. "But," she continued after a pause, "if Relena Darlian is your sister, then…" It had apparently just then dawned on her that the man she’d been sitting next to on the shuttle for the past day or so was Milliardo Peacecraft…

In the meantime, Relena had fought her way through the crowd and was hugging her brother, whom she hadn’t seen for months. "Oh Milliardo," she said, not noticing him flinch, "I’m so glad you came."

"It’s good to see you," he told her with a half smile as she pulled away. "Relena, I met one of your new translators on the shuttle," he said, aware of the still-dumbstruck girl behind him. "Miss…" he began politely.

"Zeyne," the girl supplied, shaking the hand Relena offered. "Margaret Zeyne. Meg, usually," she added, a little shyly.

"Nice to meet you Miss Zeyne. You’re going to be working for the Ministry?" Relena wanted to know, walking away from the ramp with Meg and Zechs.

"That’s right," she answered, nodding.

"Well, if you’d like to get an early start, we’re going straight to the conference from the spaceport. Would you like to come with us?"
Meg hesitated. "Thank you very much, but I… it’s been a long trip, and I’d like to go to my hotel and get some rest and –"

"You just slept for 22 hours straight," Zechs pointed out, amused.

She didn’t bother to respond to that. "Thank you again…"

"You’re welcome, of course. I’m sure I’ll see you soon," Relena told her pleasantly, beckoning through the crowd to Noin, who’d gotten stuck behind a slow-moving old woman with a very large trunk.

"I’m glad to have met you," Meg replied, making her way towards the baggage claim. She glanced back at Zechs, who was standing in front of the tall, pretty, dark-haired young woman, and reflected with some disgust that the nice, good-looking ones were always taken.

Seconds later she was incredulous that she’d just categorized Milliardo Peacecraft as a "nice, good-looking one" and began wondering just what was in those sedatives anyway…

Noin was having a hard time resisting the overwhelming and slightly ridiculous urge to salute.

"Noin," Zechs began, taking her hand in something that wasn’t quite a handshake, and pulling her a little closer, "I’m so grateful you’re safe."

With half a smile, Noin mused that she’d heard him say something like that before. However, her quick retort – "You’re just saying that ‘cause if I died I’d get a two rank promotion"- didn’t apply anymore. In fact, it was kind of distressing…

"Me too," she told him, smiling a little more genuinely.