Work Text:
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing and am making no money off of this fic.
########
Happened So Fast by luvsanime02
########
Nothing says summer like a good sangria.
Correction, Dorothy thinks, nothing says summer like a good sangria while sitting by the pool and getting a decent tan. Dorothy takes another sip of her drink and leans her head back against the lounge chair. The sun is shining, but she has her favorite pair of sunglasses on and plenty of sunscreen, and it’s the kind of calm, relaxing day that Dorothy secretly loves the best.
There’s a splash of something cold and wet against her leg. It’s her only warning. The next thing Dorothy knows, a bundle of wet, smelly fur is draped all over her, and a wet tongue is trying to lick her face, and Dorothy’s drink is in danger of spilling.
It probably says a lot about Dorothy that she prioritizes the drink, holding it up above her head so that it doesn’t actually spill, which leaves her face open for the licking.
“Ugh,” she cries, trying to turn her head to the side and use her one free hand to push the dog away. Unfortunately, it’s a rather large breed, and it’s like pushing against a wall. Nothing moves.
“Pagan, no!” someone calls out, and then suddenly Dorothy can breathe again. She takes a gulp of air and wipes her face. It’s not that she minds dogs at all, but this one is especially slobbery. Gross.
Dorothy looks up finally, frowning, only to freeze when the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen smiles at her sheepishly. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says. “He’s usually much better behaved.”
Dorothy should say something. She really should. It’s just that her tongue seems to be glued to the bottom of her very, very dry mouth.
Sparkling blue eyes, long dark-blonde hair, a tasteful but still very sexy light pink bikini. Dorothy’s suddenly not too sure that all the drool on her face is from the dog.
She clears her throat and takes a quick sip of her drink, and tries to smile back without looking as dazed as she feels. She has to be failing miserably. Maybe she can pass her blush off as a sunburn?
The dog lets out a snuffle-wurf kind of sound, almost like he’s sneezing. Dorothy hates to admit it, but now that the dog’s sitting patiently by the beautiful woman’s leg, he seems cute. Not as cute as his owner, of course.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” the woman asks, looking concerned. She’s got a little crease between her eyebrows, and - oh, no - she’s starting to just very lightly bite the corner of her bottom lip. Dorothy is a goner.
“I’m okay,” she finally manages to say. Her voice sounds embarrassingly breathless. Dorothy tells herself to get it together, but then the woman smiles at her in relief. Dorothy swears the sun just got ten degrees hotter.
Maybe she’s getting sunstroke.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” the woman says. Dorothy expects her to walk away then, but no, Dorothy’s life can’t be that simple. Instead, the woman takes a seat on the lounge chair beside Dorothy’s, frowns, gets back up and starts pulling it - pulling it closer to Dorothy, oh god - before she sits back down, apparently satisfied with the position now.
There’s only a few inches between their chairs. The woman wiggles her back against the chair to get more comfortable, and Dorothy swallows down about five gallons worth of saliva. Wow. The woman’s very tan and very pretty, and Dorothy’s so very glad that she has sunglasses on, because maybe her staring hasn’t been too noticeable yet.
“What’s that you’re having?” the woman asks, jolting Dorothy out of her musings. The dog is laying down quietly next to the woman, not at all looking like a dog who just jumps on random strangers anymore. Dorothy glances down at her drink and notices that she has clumps of wet fur stuck to her skin from the sunscreen and tries not to despair at how much of a mess she must look.
“It’s a raspberry mango sangria,” Dorothy says. There. That came out intelligently enough. She gestures towards the bar with the hand that’s holding the drink. Not that the woman asked Dorothy where she got it, but just in case she was curious…
Oh god, Dorothy is such a mess right now. Both physically and emotionally. She is never recovering from this.
“Sangria?” the woman asks in an amused tone. “It’s ten in the morning.”
Dorothy shrugs. “It’s summer,” she explains. She sounds ridiculous. Dorothy wants a huge punch bowl of sangria, just so she can drown herself in it. Or at least not be sober right now.
The woman laughs, though. “True enough,” she says easily, and then she sits up and leans over towards Dorothy, who swears that her heart actually does skip a beat. “Can I have a taste?” the woman asks.
Is she flirting with Dorothy? She has to be flirting with her, right? Who just asks that? But she’s not, like, winking or blushing or laying her hand on Dorothy’s arm, so maybe not?
She doesn’t know, but what Dorothy does know is that this woman can have a taste of anything here that she wants. Dorothy nods wordlessly and holds out the glass. She’s expecting the woman to take it from her, but instead, warm fingers wrap around the glass and tangle with Dorothy’s, and then the woman leans just a little bit closer, until her pink lips can wrap around the straw, and it’s a good damn thing that there are two of them holding the drink, because if it was just Dorothy, it’d be on the ground by now.
Her fingers are both numb and tingling where they touch the woman’s, and this is both the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to Dorothy.
“Mm,” the woman hums in appreciation after taking a sip. Dorothy never wants her to stop making that sound. “That’s really good.”
Dorothy doesn’t know what to say in response. Should she say something? Agree? Obviously Dorothy thinks it’s good, because she bought it. Wouldn’t she sound silly if she said that out loud?
“I’m Relena,” the woman says, breaking the silence once again. She lets go of the glass and holds out her hand. Dorothy moves the glass to her other hand - somehow without spilling any of it - and shakes the woman’s hand.
Her name is Relena. Dorothy’s hand is wet and cold from the glass, but that’s okay, because Relena’s is too now. The chill feels wonderful on a hot day like this one.
“Dorothy,” she says after several seconds of silence. They haven’t stopped shaking hands. Only, their hands have stopped moving, so now it’s like they’re holding hands instead, right? It definitely feels like they’re holding hands, but maybe that’s just her.
Relena smiles again. She has a lovely smile that crinkles the edges of her eyes. There’s even a dimple in one cheek. Dorothy’s a moment away from swooning.
“Nice to meet you,” Relena says. She still doesn’t let go of Dorothy’s hand, so Dorothy doesn’t let go of hers.
“You, too,” Dorothy says, meaning it in an entirely different way than she’s ever said it before.
It’s summer, and the perfect time for the start of something new.