Work Text
“Thank you, I appreciate the call, but I’m on a short leave.”
Relena Darlian kept her composure until the vid-call ended. Although she was slowly trying to wean herself out of the public eye, there was still so much more to do to create the peaceful world she wanted.
That those boys needed.
That her
brother
needed.
Relena hadn’t been able to bond with Milliardo during the war. Because of his actions and supposed demise, she hadn’t had much luck bonding with him after it either. Initially, she had believed that she would never get the chance until Une had slipped up in a meeting. Relena had dogged that small spark of hope like a wolfhound dogged its prey and finally tracked down Agent Wind. Milliardo had been more than shocked to see her, but she had insisted that he spend time with her, even if it had to be in secret.
That had led to today. She would be receiving a visit and class with a ‘cooking teacher’. Relena could make a few dishes, but she wasn’t known for the skill—learning was the perfect guise to spend time with her disguised brother without someone assuming he was…something else.
She was certain it would work.
If he showed up.
It was now half past four, and Milliardo had said that he would be there at four on the dot. Relena was getting concerned, but she wasn’t sure what she could do about it. She had told Heero to take the day off from his guard duty, so she couldn‘t even summon him to look for her brother.
She had promised not to attempt contact again, he’d been concerned about being discovered. Relena understood why both Zechs Merquise and Milliardo Peacecraft had to ‘die’ for him to move in the circles he did, but she disliked the subterfuge. Even the political dances she had to swing through on the daily were more straightforward.
Her musings were cut short by her doorbell ringing. Peering through, she was met with ice-blue eyes she could never forget, though his hair was dyed brown and braided back. As she let him in, she raised her hand to hide a smile at the resemblance to Duo Maxwell.
“ Welcome. I’m happy that you’ve agreed to teach me. I see you brought the ingredients?” She reached out to take the bags he was carrying only to be shrugged off.
“The Queen of the World shouldn’t be carrying groceries.”
Relena huffed, fingers tightening on the bag, voice tart as she responded. “That’s former Queen of the world to you. And I’ve carried far heavier things than a few groceries.”
Milliardo opened his mouth to protest, only to be met with the same determined gaze that had gotten him into this situation.
“Fine, take this one. I’ll take the rest. I want to get out of the doorway before I’m caught by the paparazzi.”
Relena turned, bag in hand as she headed towards her kitchen. “No one is going to recognize you with that hair…”
“I’m more concerned they’ll catch a picture of me and start some sort of sordid love affair story.” He made a face at that. “And if that happened, the digging could bring up my true identity. I’m not ready for that…”
An awkward silence fell at that, Relena still wasn’t sure he was making the best choice in reinventing himself…again, however, she wouldn’t argue with him. Today was supposed to be a day for the two of them to get to know each other. She began pulling ingredients out of the bag, her brow wrinkling as she looked at the amalgamation on the counter. Pork, potatoes, and onions she could understand, but sour cream?
“What…exactly are we making today?”
Milliardo looked sheepish. “Kibinai…it’s one of the few things I know how to make.”
Relena looked back down at the ingredients. “Ah…well.” She rolled up her sleeves. “Let’s get to it then!”
Milliardo’s voice was calm as he instructed her to pull out her food processor, seemingly pulling the recipe from memory. Relena was curious to know how and when her brother had learned how to make the small meat pies traditional with the Sanc Kingdom middle class.
“Relena, can you mix the eggs with the tub of sour cream while I prep ingredients for the meat?”
The blonde woman looked at the tub on the table apprehensively before nodding and peeling the lid off. She dumped it in a dish and cracked the two eggs her brother had laid out before mixing them lightly with a fork. It was hard work, and her eyes were beginning to water as the strong scent of onion reached her nose.
She looked to the side watching her brother chop onion, blue eyes as sharp as the knife he was using.
“That’s not fair.” Relena wiped her eyes with a napkin and sniffled.
“What’s not fair?” He looked amused as if he knew exactly what she was going to say.
“You’re not tearing up. How do you do that?”
Zechs shrugged as he dumped the cut onion into a bowl. “I don’t know, I just don’t. It doesn’t affect me as much. It never has. “
“Well I declare it unfair,” Relena smiled as he washed his hands.
“If you think it’s so unfair, then you can mix the dough yourself.” He crossed his arms.
“Add the block of butter, a tablespoon of salt, and four cups of flour into the food processor and pulse it until I tell you to stop.”
Relena added the ingredients as instructed and turned on the food processor, not realizing her mistake until too late. She had forgotten to close the lid. Milliardo’s eyes widened and everything seemed to happen in slow motion as flour and butter were propelled around the kitchen, dusting them both in a fine coating of powder. Relena stood there, stock still in surprise, a small piece of butter clinging to her cheek. She had screwed up. She turned to look at Milliardo, expecting anger, but finding him looking uncharacteristically shocked. He stared back at her as the butter slid down her cheek to land with a soft plop on the floor, wrist deep in ground beef.
It started with a soft snort that morphed into a chuckle, then a full-blown guffaw. Relena stared in awe, a smile on her own lips as her brother laughed. She couldn’t think of a time when she’d seen him smile so freely, or at all.
Relena’s shoulders relaxed as the humor in the situation caught up with her, a giggle escaping her lips. Milliardo covered his mouth, shaking as he pointed to her hair.
“You’ve got a little…”
Relena lifted her chin as poised and stately as she ever had been on camera—before reaching out and smearing butter into her brother's bangs.
“I” ve got a little what, dear brother?” She teased, mischief in her eyes as they met with their matching set.
He hesitated, she could see it in his posture; old habits died hard, and he had tried so hard to distance himself from her. Today was supposed to be about the opposite, getting to know one another.
Being a family.
Relena could feel uncertainty bubbling up in her stomach, lips parting to apologize as he turned to wash his hands. The former Queen of the world turned away, biting her lip at the passive look on his face. She had overstepped. He was as emotionally damaged as the pilots in a way. She should have realized.
She wasn’t expecting a soft, wet impact on the side of her head. She turned back towards the sink in surprise to see Milliardo smirking at her, a fresh handful of clumped flour coating his still-damp hand.
“Don’t start a fight you don’t plan on finishing, Relena.” His eyes were full of amusement as he covered the bowl of meat and onion he’d been prepping.
It was then that she realized why he’d hesitated. He’d been handling raw meat.
“You…”
She was interrupted in her sentiment by another flying glob of dough.
“Another bit of advice…” Her brother looked at her, a hint of a smile on his face. “Though it’s one I thought you’d already learned. Don’t look away from a fight.”
Relena wiped her cheek, rolling the sticky mass into a ball, before responding primly. “ I’m a pacifist, Milliardo.I try to avoid fighting.”
His eyebrow raised nearly to the point of touching his hairline, but before he could point out that she had done no such thing during the real war—the ball in her hand hit him in the face with a loud splat. That was the final straw, as their eyes met and the battle began, flour and dough flying back and forth turning Relena’s kitchen into a war zone.
* * *
The house had been silent for too long, and Heero was worried. It was simple enough to slip into Relena’s backyard and childsplay for him to slip a hanger through the crack in her window to unlock it. His feet hit her plush living room rug with barely a sound and he crept towards the kitchen where he could hear soft voices.
“That was the most childish thing I’ve ever done.”
“I can’t believe you threw an egg at me!”
“ Well at least egg whites are good for your hair, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get this flour out of mine…”
Heero rounded the corner and blinked slowly at the tableau before him. The kitchen looked like a war zone of baking items, the only thing standing pristine was a large, saran wrap-covered bowl in the center of the counter.
“Relena?”
The former Queen of the World poked her head up from behind the kitchen island, hair white with flour and slightly clumpy as she pushed it back from her face, brow wrinkled in confusion.
“Heero? What are you doing here…I thought I told you to stay away for today!”
She looked slightly embarrassed and more than irritated—but he had disobeyed orders. He’d be damned if he’d ever leave her alone with his former enemy, brother or not, and she’d have to understand that. He cocked an eyebrow at the two as they sat on the kitchen floor, breathing hard, the chaos of the food fight around them.
“I wasn’t on the premises until a few minutes ag—”
They had seen it coming but had been unable to stop it, one too shocked to move, the other too amused. From the ceiling where it had been stuck sometime during the food fight dough dripped onto Heero’s face.
He wasn’t sure what to do in this situation; to the other two, he looked his age for once, blinking owlishly as flour slime slowly dripped down his cheek.
It was Relena who broke first, laughing softly, and it was not long before Milliardo followed, chuckles ringing through the kitchen. Seeing the humor in the situation, Heero’s lips twitched before a snort escaped him as well.
“Well!” Relena clapped her hands, looking between the two men as the laughter petered out. “ We made a huge mess…Since we have an extra hand, why not use him?” She looked at Heero, wide blue eyes pleading. “I want to finish cooking…” Milliardo exchanged glances with his sister's self-proclaimed body guard; the two sized each other up, reaching an unspoken accord with a stiff nod.
“Mission Accepted.” Heero walked towards the counter, eyes flicking over the mess. “ What would you like me to do?”
Relena frowned thoughtfully. “ How about you re-mix the flower and pulse the dough?” Her cheeks flushed as she smiled sheepishly. “ I seem to have turned that into a disaster.”
“ On in.” Relena relaxed as he turned to her brother for instruction. She watched them as she picked up a broom and tried to sweep up the still-damp shreds of dough. There had been so much to do once peace was declared. It was nice to have a fairly normal day with her brother and her…Heero.
As Heero mixed the dough precisely under Milliardo’s tutelage Relena gave up on the floor for now. They could clean up later. For now—.
“ Are we done with the blender? What can I do?”
For now, she would enjoy these peaceful times with the people she cared for.
“Careful! You don’t want to knock over the—Shit!”
Even if it meant getting sour cream all over her feet.