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Heero was told - informed - many times that his body was finely-tuned. An instrument of warfare, a perfected weapon. Changing his biology had, of course, had knock on effects to his cognition, to his mind. What they couldn’t change with biology, they did with psychology.
It made him almost indestructible, something he had resented so deeply across the years, up until the days he started wanting to be saved, where he wanted to survive.
Some of those changes could be reversed. Many of them could slowly wear away over time, time spent with his friends, with humanity, living in peace. Each normal interaction, every quiet moment shared with people who care for him helped wear it away, like water lapping against rocks.
Still, some parts of it remained strong, and resistant. His life-saving instincts remained heightened and undeniable at times. Detection of threats misfired, and Heero had to try to mentally and emotionally outpace what years of experimentation had ingrained.
There must be a threat, his body signaled to him. He knew there was not.
Heero stepped out from along the wall, crossing the room along the back of the crowd. The ballroom was loaded with people milling, talking, getting a bit too drunk and blaming it on the artificial gravity. Heero’s eyes were locked on one person though, and he continued to feel his instincts clawing their way to the forefront of his mind.
His heart rate had picked up when he saw her step into the light, and his body had immediately turned over into threat response. Heero had to assess it, had to neutralize whatever was making his instincts this fearful, remove the offending stimulus and return to baseline.
He closed his eyes for just a second and breathed. In for a count of four, and held it for the same. Breathing out slowly and keeping count gave the instincts something else to manage as he walked closer.
It wasn’t a threat.
What had caused this? Heero wanted to assess, to understand. He had seen her hundreds, maybe thousands of times. This response was out of proportion to his risk.
Wasn’t it?
Relena turned, smiling toward someone who had stepped up to speak with her. The champagne in her glass had dwindled quickly, and it made her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. Heero looked closer, and there was a smattering of it right over her collarbones, too. It was easy to tell as her skin disappeared under a pristine white dress.
The bustier he was accidentally staring at was adorned and sparkling with tiny rhinestones. The waist was cinched, opening to a flowing skirt that caught each motion when she moved. It had short sleeves, the caps of fabric gently frilling the same way the skirt does, each one cut low along her ribcage. Relena reached out to tap her glass against someone else’s, smiling as she did, and it happened again. Heero’s heart rate exceeded rest, exceeded what was within normal limits.
There was a curve just along the edge of her ribcage that he could see, the cut of the dress dipping in a deep arc under each arm. He spent some time trying to compute it. His heartrate climbed, but it plateaued quickly even if his palms started to sweat.
There was no threat.
Heero finally stepped a bit closer, lingering on the fringe of the conversation.
“-a lovely young man, Miss Relena,” one of the gentlemen standing with her said, and a woman hanging off his arm agreed, tittering a little laugh.
“And handsome,” she added. Relena gave a polite little laugh, the blush along her cheeks growing darker. It was beautiful. Heero swallowed hard, counted through his breaths.
“I heard that he was the agent responsible for tracking that data destruction,” another older gentleman said, and Relena nodded.
“He’s completely amazing,” Relena murmured, and she turned. The skirt whirled around her calves as she did, as she searched for him. As soon as she laid eyes on him, Relena smiled.
“Look who’s talking,” Heero said quietly, stepping closer. He wrapped one arm around her and as though it had sought it out, his fingers found the edge of that cutout and trace it, feeling Relena’s skin. Relena jumped a little when he did, but she continued to smile.
The group said their platitudes and left them to move on.
Heero could feel his blood pressure rising, his heart rate still thudding along in his chest. He’s used to interpreting this along one track, one type of response - the one that would most likely preserve his life. Run. Fight.
But this wasn’t a threat. He leaned in, counting through one last slow inhalation by pressing his lips to the corner of her jaw, breathing in her smell and the light perfume she’s wearing. As he did, he let his hands slide along her back. She murmured his name into his ear, smiling broadly when they part again.
He didn’t want to resist the urge to close the gap again, kissing her on her lips. It’s just a peck, enough to be acceptable in mixed company, and it’s not nearly enough.
His instincts calmed down. He had Relena in his arms. His life-saving instincts have been sated.