Well, that was interplanetary travel lag for you… A moment ago, Noin had been talking to Zechs, and he seemed to have nodded off midsentence. She felt a little silly just sitting there and watching him sleep.

But he was awfully beautiful when he was asleep.

He was pretty beautiful awake, too. There were lines around his eyes that disappeared when he slept, and he looked so peaceful and angelic. If he was that tired, she couldn’t quite find it in her heart to wake him up just yet. His neck was going to hurt, slouched on the couch like that, but… for now…

Noin drew her feet up beneath her as she sat in the armchair. It seemed ridiculous, but she was fairly content, just sitting there watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest and listening to his steady breathing.

Not far from sleep herself, she sat up abruptly when Zechs’ breathing changed sharply. It was shallow, and strained, and he was twitching slightly. The serenity of the atmosphere was gone, and with it, Noin’s reluctance to wake him up. She stood and walked over to the couch. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she was surprised when he drew away from it sharply, his expression pained.

"Zechs, hey, wake up," she said, shaking him gently.

He woke suddenly, startling her as his hands gripped her arms just below the elbow. His breathing was slowing, but he was clinging to her like a child awoken from a nightmare.

"Zechs, are you okay?" Noin asked, sitting beside him and helping him sit up straighter.

"I…I’m fine. It was…a dream," he said, more to himself than to her.

"You… don’t look fine. Zechs…"

"No, I’m all right," he assured her, voice firmer. He drew her nearer, and she was suddenly aware of the fact that the way he was holding her was no longer remotely childlike. Part of her would have liked nothing better than to be pulled closer still. But…

"Is… this what Relena wasn’t supposed to discuss with me?" she wanted to know, pulling away and letting her hands slide into his.

"I’ve… been having rather disturbing dreams," he began.

"Reoccurring nightmares, maybe?" Noin suggested a bit shortly. "Well that would explain the fact that you’ve lost weight and started drinking excessive amounts of coffee in the past few weeks. How could you just not tell me?" she wanted to know, sounding a little hurt.

Well, Relena had been right about Noin noticing something, anyway. "It’s my problem. I didn’t want to worry you."

"I’ve worried more not knowing what’s going on. Can you just… just assume that anything that hurts you is my problem as well?" Noin said fiercely.

There were things… things that "hurt him," that by the grace of God, Noin would never have to know about.

"You don’t know what you’re saying," he told her, rather coldly, letting go of her hands and standing.

"Don’t I?" she said hotly.

"You don’t. I have my problems, and you have yours. Someone tried to kill you two days ago," he stated, succeeding in changing the subject.

"It’s not as if I went out of my way to conceal that from anyone," she retorted.

"I had to find out from Relena," he pointed out.

"I was fairly upset by the whole chain of events," Noin said, clenching her hands into fists so there was absolutely no chance they would shake. "By the time I was thinking anywhere near rationally, you were on a shuttle."

"I’m here now, and you haven’t spoken of it at all."

"What is there to discuss?" she wanted to know, looking away.

"Something, apparently. It’s obvious that it’s still upsetting you," he answered, noticing how she had tensed when he brought the subject up.

"Shouldn’t it?" she inquired curtly.

"Noin, I didn’t mean that," he said, immediately regretting how cold he was being about this. "But I’ve seen you in battle. It’s not as though your life has never been in danger before, and you’ve always been so calm."

She propped her elbow on her knee and rested her forehead on her palm. "It was different," she said quietly.

"I know it’s always harder when it’s face to face if you’re accustomed to mobile suits," he began.

"No," she interupted, looking up. "That wasn’t it. It was… so specific, so personal. I wasn’t his enemy. He just…thought I deserved to die," she concluded, staring at her hand.

"You don’t," he told her gently, sitting back down.

"I know that. But, in a way he was right," she said thoughtfully.

"Noin, what are you saying?" he demanded quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"You said the same thing. What if it was something I taught them? Or didn’t teach them. Was it my fault?"

"How can someone else’s actions be your fault?"

"And yet, I’m responsible for what I taught them, aren’t I?"

"Yes. But, not for how they… perverted it. It was frightening, Noin. They had no respect for anything or anyone – except Treize, and…you," he said, moving his hand to her cheek.

"And how is that supposed to make me feel?" she snapped, brushing his hand away.

"How does it?" he asked.

"Sick," she answered, leaning forward slightly, her hands tightening into fists once more.

"Noin…" he said softly, touching her face again and sliding his arm around her waist.

"When," Noin began, straightening and turning slightly to face him, expression amused as she regarded him through narrowed cobalt eyes behind a few strands of raven hair, "did you change the subject?"

Zechs woke from his heavy, dreamless sleep to the sound of the front door opening and a stream of people walking through.

"Hi, Milliardo," Relena greeted over her bag of groceries. "We thought we’d come back here for dinner."

Glancing out the window, he could see the warm hues of sunset painting the horizon. He must’ve slept longer than he’d thought. He rubbed his neck. "You’re going to cook here?" he asked groggily.

Relena blushed, then grinned apologetically. "Not…exactly."

"We got take-out," Hildie explained, pausing on her way to the kitchen.

"Believe me," Heero told Zechs in a lowered voice, "you wouldn’t want Relena to cook."

"Did you sleep well?" Noin wanted to know, turning the casual query into an interrogation.

"Yes," he responded absently, then catching her skeptical look, continued, "I honestly did."

Still not seeming entirely convinced, Noin followed the others into the kitchen.

Duo, watching Zechs watch Noin, sat cross-legged on the living room floor.

"I’d tell you that you had lipstick on your collar," he began once Noin was out of earshot, "but somehow I don’t think Noin wears any."

Zechs raised an eyebrow at him. "She doesn’t," he replied with a straight face a moment later.

Duo laughed.

"Neither does Relena," Heero stated with a half-smile as he passed.

Zechs’ hands clenched into fists almost subconsciously. The boy wasn’t stupid, so why did he keep baiting him like this?

"Sally doesn’t either," Wufei interjected.

Heero stopped in his tracks, and three pairs of blue eyes turned on Wufei.

He actually blushed.

"She doesn’t,"he said defensively. "That doesn’t mean that I…that…" He realized that his face was red and scowled. "You three sicken me," he snarled, stalking off to the dining room, where Quatre, Hildie, and Trowa were setting the table.

"Hi Wufei," Quatre greeted pleasantly, his hands full of silverware, "could you bring that chair in the corner over to the table?"

Hildie, who was folding napkins and placing them beside the plates Trowa had set down, finished her task quickly as she glared at Wufei and hurried back to the kitchen.

"What’s with her?" Wufei wanted to know, rearranging the chairs.

Trowa snorted. "You really don’t remember?"

"I think," Quatre ventured, "she’s still pretty angry about this morning. I’m sure if you’d apologize…"

"For what?" Wufei demanded, partly indignant, and partly baffled.

"It’s not even worth it," Trowa told Quatre, shaking his head as he walked into the living room with his hands in his pockets.

"What’s for dinner?" Zechs wanted to know, cracking his back and making Noin wince as he make his way to the kitchen.

"Italian," Relena answered. "Mostly for the fun of watching Heero and Wufei trying to eat spaghetti with chopsticks," she admitted, laughing.

"You girls are terrible," Noin said, trying not to laugh as she looked up from the sauce she was reheating on the stove.

"He deserves it," Hildie said, obviously not talking about Heero.

"You might as well let it go," Noin told Hildie. "He’s not going to apologize."

"He should," Hildie said fiercely.

"Regardless," Noin said, shaking her head, "that doesn’t mean he will."

Hildie sighed, then looked up suddenly. "What’s… that smell?"

Relena’s eyes widened. "The breadsticks!" she gasped, diving for the oven. Wrenching the door open, she coughed as she despondently pulled the tray out with the oven mitt and surveyed the blackened strips. "Whoops…" she said softly.

Hildie coughed. It might’ve been the smoke, but she couldn’t hide her grin.

"Am I hopeless?" Relena asked her, giggling.

"It’s too soon to tell," Hildie replied with mock seriousness.

"It would be profoundly unnatural for a princess to have natural culinary abilities," Zechs told her affectionately, tugging on one of her braids. Relena smiled.

"What’s burning?" Duo called from the living room. "And do we need to call the fire department?"

"Your share," Hildie answered cheerily, "And therefore, no."

"Burnt offerings to Shinigami aren’t necessary," Duo retorted, feigning modesty.

"’Scuse me while I go strangle that boy with his braid…" Hildie said, heading for the doorway.

"Sorry," Noin told her, "non-princesses are direly needed in the kitchen. I’m not doing this myself," she concluded, popping the plastic lid off of a container of meatballs and putting them into the sauce.

"I’ll help," Zechs volunteered, "especially for the excellent cause of giving Mr. Maxwell a hard time."

Hildie grinned at him as she continued into the living room.

"Are princes that much of an improvement over princesses?" Noin asked skeptically.

Zechs shrugged. "I guess we’ll find out."

Duo’s "hard time" seemed to consist of a great deal of laughing.

"The god of death is ticklish," Heero informed Relena solemnly after he’d left Hildie to her task and joined the others in the kitchen.

Hildie, apparently, was too.

"Somehow," Noin stated, amused, as she glanced up from the stove, "I don’t think Duo is exactly having a hard time. And if he is, he’s enjoying it."

Duo and Hildie called a truce after a few minutes, and helped eachother to their feet. Hilde paused a few steps towards the kitchen to put her short hair into some semblance of order. Duo seemed unable to resist the temptation…

Her sides were unprotected, and he started tickling again.

"Duo! We had a truce! Stop it!" she gasped out through her laughter, hurriedly getting out of reach. "You’re so mean!"

"I’m mean?" Duo repeated indignantly. "And just who started all this, may I ask?"

Hildie grinned. "Relena burnt the breadsticks," she contributed.

Duo laughed. "Don’t go blaming the innocent for your own evil actions!" he told her, starting a fresh wave of vigorous tickling.

"If I’m evil, so are you," Hildie informed him indignantly.

"Nah. I’m just retaliating," Duo said coolly.

"There’s a loaf of bread on the table. Would you mind slicing it in the absence of breadsticks?" Noin asked, handing Zechs a cutting board and smiling at Relena.

"I thought the idea of getting take out was that we wouldn’t have to wait to eat," Trowa said, poking his head into the kitchen.

"If you make yourself useful, it won’t be as long," Noin pointed out.

"All right," Trowa answered, coming the rest of the way into the kitchen. "What do you want me to do?"

"Put the salad and the spaghetti on the table," she suggested.

"Okay," he replied compliantly, lifting the large bowl of pasta from the counter.

"Thanks Trowa," she said, putting a ladle in the sauce and the empty saucepan into the sink.

As if drawn by some obscure instinct that informed them that dinner was ready, Duo and Hildie were seated quietly side by side at the table.