Dr. Bronson was having a long day. There were so many new appointments today. By the time it go to be 5:30, he didn’t even glance at any more than the last name on the chart before he got into the examination room, then went over the medical history with the patient. He was a specialist, so the complaints were basically the same, and the patients tended to be fairly similar as well. As a cardiologist, most of his patients were at least middle aged, many of them were men, and all of the new patients had the same frightened look in their eyes.

"All right, Mr. Merquise," the doctor said, reading the name from the chart and amusing himself by forming a mental image of the new patient. "Thank you for your patience. We’ve had a busy day." He glanced up…and nearly tripped.

It was a boy. The kid couldn’t be a day over 21. That, in and of itself, was strange, but not unheard of. Even more disturbing, though, were the boy's calm, impassive expression and unreadable eyes.

"You’ve…had an irregular heartbeat?" he said, looking back at the chart.

"That’s correct."

"I see you’ve had a heart attack in the past?" The doctor looked up in surprise.

"About two years ago," the patient affirmed.

"Are you going for two heart attacks before the age of 25? Some kind of record?"

Mr. Merquise was not amused. "No."

"These records are from a military medic," Dr. Bronson commented, flipping through the file.

"I was a member of Oz military," he replied, if possible, looking even more closed.

"A pilot?"

"Yes."

"Marvelous," the doctor remarked sarcastically. "The last Oz pilot who was my patient had cardiac issues as well. But believe me, they were the least of his problems. That man was so battered physically and emotionally…" He looked inclined to continue, but stopped. "He was older than you are, though, so I’m not sure what affect that’ll have. One would expect a younger person to… bounce back better, if you’ll excuse the simplistic term."

"That seems reasonable," Zechs put in. Wing Zero had, in it’s way, been more abusive than the Tallgeese, and Heero had never had physical problems with it. Had he? Then again, he didn’t have a clear standard of comparison. His skills had improved so drastically after he’d mastered the Tallgeese, he couldn’t predict how he would’ve reacted to Zero if he’d used it first.

"Are you in contact with any other former Oz pilots? I don’t exactly want to do a study, but the more cases I’m exposed to, the more I can help any of you…"

Zechs snorted. "There’s one in the waiting room."

"Miss Noin?" the receptionist called.

Noin closed the glossy magazine of colorful pictures of wildlife and picturesque landscapes she’d been idly flipping through. "Yes?"

"Would you follow me to the examination room, please?"

Noin stood. "But…I…"

The woman paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Yes?"

Feeling the eyes of the people in the waiting room on her, she fell silent and followed.

Oh God… Was it bad enough that they would have to call her back? Let him be all right, she prayed…dear God let him be all right….

The receptionist opened the door to the examination room and smiled plastically before heading back to the waiting room.

"Does she usually look that stricken, or has she been jumping to conclusions?" the middle-aged doctor with a cynical smile asked Zechs.

"I’m fine, Noin," he told her quickly. "Dr. Bronson wanted the comparison of another mobile suit pilot…" he explained.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Lucrezia Noin," the doctor greeted, shaking her hand.

"Hello…" She was still a bit numb with residual relief and confusion.

"Have a seat, would you?" He wrapped the blood pressure monitor around her arm. "Lucrezia… quite a beautiful name."

"Thank you," she said flatly.

"It’s from Shakespeare, if I’m not mistaken."

"You’re not."

"What’s the poem called…. The Rape of Lucrece?"

Noin nodded curtly.

"Hm…not quite the same as being named Juliet or Miranda or Helena or something, is it?"

"Not exactly…"

"Well, Miss Lucrezia, your blood pressure is normal."

"Please sir, I go by Noin," she told him shortly.

He made a disapproving sort of noise and proceeded with the examination.

"Miss Lu- Noin," he told her, pulling the stethoscope out of his ears, "you’re a very healthy young woman."

"I’m pleased to hear it," she replied dryly.

"You’re sure she’s piloted mobile suits?" the doctor asked Zechs.

"Kindly address questions about me to me," Noin said sharply.

"Very well then… is he sure you’ve piloted mobile suits?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, he is."

"I believe the difference lies in the types of mobile suits we’ve used," Zechs told him, sounding tired.

"Hmm… Well, all right then," he conceded, humoring the patient. "Miss Noin, what have you piloted?" the doctor inquired.

She crossed her arms. "I was certified with the Picses and Cancer, but I usually piloted an Aries or a Taurus, and occassionally a Leo."

He scribbled each on a tablet for perscriptions, then looked up. "And Mr. Merquise?"

"I was certified with all major types of Oz mobile suits as well, but I also spent several months piloting the Leo prototype, and two variations on the Gundam design."

He looked up, his pen pausing partway through the word "prototype".

"I see."

"And that would explain your other patient, perhaps. Older models of the Leo might not have yet evolved out of Tallgeese’s abusive tendencies," Zechs continued thoughtfully.

"That’s…what you were piloting when you suffered your heartattack?" Dr. Bronson asked. "Did anyone else have problems with that particular mobile suit?"

Noin watched Zechs’ knuckles turn white as he closed his eyes for an instant.

"Lt. Otto didn’t survive the second…test flight," he told him in a very composed voice. Noin could still hear the pain lying very well hidden under his neutral tone. She wanted to lay her hand on his shoulder - a gesture of support, or comfort, but that was probably the last thing he needed.

"I understand Zero has killed its share of pilots as well," Noin interjected.

The doctor put his pen down. "We may want to pursue this speculation when I’ve had a chance to do some research, but until then I’ll treat you just as I would any of my other patients."

Zechs was sorely tempted to respond to that, but resisted.

"Thank you very much for your time, Miss Noin. You can return to the waiting room now."

Noin looked at Zechs and shrugged, and he gave her a half-smile.

The door clicked shut softly behind her. "That was a beautiful girl…" Dr. Bronson stated reflectively.

"I believe we were discussing my heart," Zechs said pointedly, rubbing his temples.

"Oh, don’t worry, she’s too young for me."

The temperature of Zechs’ gaze plummeted from cold to freezing.

"Rough audience…" he muttered. "Anyway," he continued more loudly, clearing his throat, "first things first. Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Good, don’t start. Do you drink?"

"No."

"Good. Don’t start that either. First, we’re going to cut all of the caffeine out of your diet."

Zechs couldn’t quite restrain his flinch.

"Coffee drinker, eh?"

"I’m afraid so."

"Well, get used to decaf, I guess. Is there a history of heart disease in the Merquise family?"

Zechs coughed.

"I beg your pardon?" That had sounded entirely too much like an attempt to conceal a cynical laugh.

"I’m sorry, but to be honest, I have no idea. My parents died when I was six, along with the rest of my family. I’m not sure if any medical records are intact, but I could look into that."

"My resources are probably more extensive than yours. What was your father’s name?" he asked, pen in hand again.

"Peacecraft," he answered, the muscles around his eyes tightening.

The doctor stared at what he’d just written. "Um… sorry, but… could you spell that?"

"P-e-a-c-e-c-r" Zechs began in an emotionless tone.

"Right, got it…" he interupted, looking a little more closely at the chart, and the first name accompanying Merquise. It must’ve been a longer day than he’d thought.

"I could’ve punched him," Noin stated, glaring over the steering wheel at the road.

"I could tell," Zechs replied, smiling. "There were a number of times I was tempted to myself. But trust me, he was better than the psychiatrist."

"The what?"

"Didn’t Relena tell you?" he asked, amused.

"No, tell me what?" Noin asked, baffled, glancing at him quickly.

"Watch the road," he admonished.

Noin sighed. He did not make a very good passenger.

"Didn’t Relena tell you that she sent me to a psychiatrist?" he continued.

"No," Noin answered, trying to picture Zechs comfortably reclined on a psychiatrist’s couch in deep introspection…. She laughed. "How long did that last? Thirty seconds?"

"An amazing minute and a half, I think," he said dryly. "I may have to have a talk with that girl…"

"Probably a good idea," Noin agreed. "I… was pretty worried back there for a while," she admitted, not taking her eyes from the road again.

"I could tell that too," he replied seriously. "Don’t be. It’s going to be fine."

"I hope you’re right."

"How fast are you going?" he wanted to know, craning his neck to look at the speedometer, and obviously changing the subject.

"No as fast as Duo was going when he got his ticket," Noin retorted, grinning.