Voicemail

by Kat Dickerson Adams

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Treize closed his cel phone, making sure the volume was turned all the way up before placing it face upward on his desk. He returned to his work for an entire eight minutes before snatching the phone up, flipping the lid open and viciously dialing again.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Cut to voicemail.

“You’ve reached Colonel Une. Leave a message.”

“Cel phone,” Treize muttered, “I’ll try the cel phone again.”

Immediately to voicemail.

“Colonel Une’s Mobile. Leave a message.”

He closed the phone. No message. He never left messages unless he had a task for her and unless he had a point and today he had neither. Back to his work he went, his fingers on the keypad but his mind elsewhere.

Ten times he had called her. At least a dozen times, more or less ( certainly not less ) with no answer, no returned calls, nothing at all. This was highly irregular of her, highly unlike his Lady Colonel.

When she missed the early morning meeting, Treize was annoyed, but willing to overlook the slight. Lady Une had never been late or absent to any meeting, much less the first briefing of the day. He expected to see her in his office shortly after, with an excuse and an apology. That never came, and neither did she.

Six in the morning turned to six thirty. That’s when he made the first call. Lady Une was such a torrid workaholic, he expected she had gone straight to her office and had begun the day’s duties. After all, he had sent her not one, not two, but three emails packed full of details from the meeting and of the tasks he needed her to take care of today.

When he received no answer at seven, seven thirty, eight and eight thirty, he became aggravated. When he received no answer at nine, nine-thirty, nine-forty five, ten, ten-oh-one, ten fifteen, ten thirty and ten fifty-five, he became absolutely livid.

Treize worked through the noon hour, canceling a lunch appointment with Zechs and foregoing even the slightest bit of sustenance. He seethed to himself in between typing on a report and calling Lady Une.

Now he had progressed past the office and cel and was ringing her apartment number. Noon, one o’clock, one-thirty, two, two-thirty, three and three-thirty seemed to melt together like runny ice cream.

Finally, at three forty-two, his office phone rang.

“Yes?” Treize answered hastily, yanking the phone from its cradle.

“What in the hell are you doing in there?” A loud voice bellowed. “What are you doing...building a bomb?”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Zechs.”

“Huh. You seemed like you were in a decent mood earlier this morning. What’s up?”

“Work as usual.”

“Work as usual,” Zechs repeated, “Did you even eat?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m coming to your office.”

“No, that isn’t necessary,” Treize lied, “I’m busy and I...” The door to his office swung open, revealing Zechs with a cel-phone plastered to his ear. “...don’t need company,” Treize finished.

“All right,” Zechs said, taking a seat directly in front of Treize’s desk, “What’s going on? I’ve never, ever in my entire life long, known you to forego lunch or any personal break whatsoever.”

“That is absolutely not true.”

“Oh? And where were you when I delivered my report last week? I daresay I remember the sound of the Opera in the background.”

“It was the ballet,” Treize snapped, “And what’s your point?”

“You’re in a foul mood all of a sudden,” Zechs said.

“I’m fine.”

Zechs frowned and removed his mask, laying it carefully on Treize’s perfectly polished wooden desk. “Don’t patronize me,” Zechs said plainly, “I’m your best friend, and know you better than anyone. Now...tell me what’s gotten you into such a shitty mood. Are you hungover?”

“Don’t be silly,” Treize said, “It’s a Tuesday.”

“That hasn’t mattered in the past.”

“I don’t have a hangover.”

“Okay,” Zechs said, “Did you have a date which ended badly?”

“I haven’t been on a date in months.”

Zechs looked surprised. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Treize snapped, “I don’t have the time. I’ve been busy and everyone in this compound has been driving me absolutely insane.”

“Well, whenever you feel like not being a total sap, let me know,” Zechs said, “Because I’d like to go out and get a drink tonight.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey,” Zechs said, “Changing paces for a minute...do you know where Colonel Une is? I’ve called her a couple of times and she isn’t answering.”

“I don’t know,” Treize said, trying to hide his irritation.

“You need to do something about her,” Zechs said, “She’s destroying the morale of this compound.”

“What else is new?”

Zechs laughed. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say anything even remotely derogatory about our little German firecracker.”

Treize ignored him, brushing right past his elbow and picking up his cel phone. He dialed Lady Une’s apartment one more time, slapped the phone shut and tossed it across the room. Fortunately for Treize, the phone fell with a thud to the carpet, sparing it any injuries, but he wasn’t really concerned about the phone.

“Treize!” Zechs exclaimed, looking over his shoulder at the phone lying on the deep blue carpet, “What’s your problem?”

“I’m just...why in fuck’s sakes can’t anyone show up and do what they’re supposed to do?” Treize snapped, “How hard is it to answer a fucking phone?”

“You can’t just...oh, wait. Oh...are you kidding me?” Zechs chuckled, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He began to laugh, and this just irritated Treize all the more.

“What’s so funny?”

Zechs didn’t answer, he just laughed harder. And harder. And harder. And harder still. He laughed until his eyes were running and he began to choke. Treize sighed, reached into the small refrigerator beside his desk, and took out a bottled water.

He placed it on a coaster and taunted Zechs, who was reaching for the crystal liquid.

“Tell me why you’re laughing and I’ll give you the water,” Treize said.

“Water first,” Zechs choked, “Explanation soon after.”

“Here, damn you!” Treize said, pushing the bottle to Zechs, who was still laughing, despite Treize’s angry scowl.

Zechs took three big gulps and several small sips before the choking subsided. “Whew,” He said, “Choked on my own air. That’s an achievement.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Lady Une,” Zechs said, “You’re all in a tiff over Lady Une not answering your phone calls, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“All right, all right!” Treize hissed, “I’ve been calling all day, ever since she missed the morning meeting and the minx has yet to answer or return any of my calls!”

Zechs walked over to the spot where Treize’s phone lay on the carpet and picked it up, laughing once he saw Treize’s call log. “Lady Une Office, Lady Une Office, Lady Une Office, Lady Une Office, Lady Une Cel...” He rattled off, “Lady Une Cel, Lady Une Office, Lady Une Cel, Lady Une Office, Lady Une Cel, Lady Une Home...”

Treize swivelled around in his chair to face the window, mainly so he could avoid seeing the look on Zechs’ face. But he saw it clearly reflected in the glass.

“You have made at least twenty calls to this woman,” Zechs said, “At least one third of them to her apartment? Oh boy...oh boy...” He started to laugh again. “This is great.”

“You’re an absolute ass.”

“And you’ve got it bad.”

Treize turned back around. “I’m sorry?”

“Lady Une,” Zechs said, “You like her, don’t you?”

“Please,” Treize griped, rolling his eyes directly toward the ceiling. “What makes you think I would even think about having those sorts of feelings about...about her?”

“Why not?”

“For starters, she’s not very ladylike.”

“In what way?” Zechs said, taking a seat once again, “Because she wears a uniform?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You think she’s ugly.”

“Absolutely not! She’s a beautiful woman, and-“

“Ah-ha!” Zechs cried out, pointing his index finger to Treize. “You admit you’ve seen her as more than just a subordinate!”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Treize said. His face was beginning to grow pink, “I simply countered your claim she was ugly.”

“Fine. Give me another reason why you can’t be involved with Lady Une.”

“She’s a subordinate. It’s not ethical.”

“Ethical? Since when are you a master of ethics? Besides, that rule applies to Officers and Enlisted. Technically, you’re both Officers, so that’s a non-issue.”

“Very well,” Treize said, “She’s not of Romafellar.”

Now Zechs looked as if he were truly offended. “Neither is Noin, but I could give a shit less.”

“What would people say?” Treize was being serious. Romafellar did not date outside of itself, it went against tradition and protocol.

“So you think she isn’t good enough for you.”

“No, no,” Treize said, waving his hands, “But Romafellar-“

“Can go to hell,” Zechs said, “They don’t own you and the Treize I know marches to the beat of his own drum, not someone else’s.”

Treize, who was beginning to feel more than put on the spot, walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He brought the bottle and two short glasses to the desk, pouring a glass for himself and one for Millardo.

“Already?” Millardo said, “But it’s only...” He looked at his watch. “Hell...is it four thirty already? Cheers, then.” He held his glass up, then began sipping steadily on its contents.

“Let’s say I do look past the Romafellar issue,” Treize said, “The woman is outright arrogant and difficult to get along with.”

“That’s perfect,” Zechs said, “You’d get along fabulously.” He took another gulp of his scotch.

“I’m not arrogant, and I’m certainly not difficult to get along with,” Treize protested.

“Really? You’re right. This entire visit has been filled with sunshine, roses, pleasantries and whipped cream.”

Treize downed the rest of his scotch in one gulp and refilled his glass. Zechs, not one to be put to shame by Treize where alcohol was concerned, followed suit.

“She’s a workaholic.”

“So are you.”

“She doesn’t like to go out.”

“How do you know? Have you asked?”

“No. But she never fraternizes with anyone else.”

They were both nearly finished with their second glasses of scotch. Zechs shook his head. “That could be because of two reasons. One, she’s a bitch and two, she’s one of those introverted, private types, which by the way, so are you.”

“She doesn’t like Opera.”

“Change her mind.”

They poured themselves another glass.

“She doesn’t like to go horseback riding.”

“Teach her.”

“She has that...that horrible accent...”

They had both finished this glass and were going to another.

“Yeah,” Zechs said, “It is pretty bad. But you could help her get rid of it. You took diction classes for half of your life.”

“I don’t have the time.”

“Then make the time.”

Treize grit his teeth and downed the rest of his scotch. Zechs raised one eyebrow. “So that’s the way it is, huh?” Zechs said. “Bet I can down more than you.”

“Doubtful,” Treize said. He was already starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol, especially since he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that was almost twelve hours ago.

“Okay,” Zechs said. His speech was beginning to become slurred. “What else?”

“She doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

“Pshhh!” Zechs said, flapping one hand in the air and downing his drink in the other. “Says who?”

“Says me,” Treize said in between gulps, “I’m around her all the time you know.”

“Then give her something to laugh about,” Zechs said, “Make her laugh.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“Moving on,” Zechs said. “What else?”

“She doesn’t wear makeup.”

“Take her to the makeup counter.”

“I don’t know anything about makeup and besides, you know how women are. She’s liable to smack me right across the face!” He emptied the last of the bottle’s contents into his glass then rose to get another, but ended up pulling two out of the cabinet.

“Nice,” Zechs said, holding his glass for Treize to refill. “And you’re probably right about the makeup thing.”

“See?”

“That’s one point out of like...a bunch,” Zechs said, then laughed. He paused for a second, then grinned mischievously. “You’re right...it’s probably a lost cause.”

“Finally,” Treize sighed, “I thought you’d never come around.”

“Yeah, I mean...she’s probably seeing someone.”

Treize nearly choked. Zechs turned his head and spewed a mouthful of scotch on the carpet. “Stunning,” Treize said, turning his nose upward at the wet spot on his carpet, “Now my office will smell like a tavern.”

“Tavern-schmavern,” Zechs said, “But you should have seen the look on your face!”

Treize ignored him and poured himself another glass. By now, they were halfway done with the second bottle.

“She’s a pretty girl,” Zechs continued, “Probably has some big, strapping German boyfriend. I mean, who knows what she looks like with her hair down, with those glasses off, in a form-fitting dress...or in nothing at all.”

“Stop that!” Treize said, “She’s a Lady, not an object!” He downed one more glass and poured another.

Zechs held his hands out, swaying back and forth, “Okay, okay. Sorry. “ He finished his glass just as Treize was pouring himself another.

By now they were both officially drunk and as the liquor flowed, their tongues became looser and looser. They went through the third bottle with ease and by the time the fourth bottle was halfway empty, they were both inebriated beyond belief.

“Call her again,” Zechs slurred as he and Treize stared down at the cel phone in Treize’s hand, “Go on...it’s only...” He held up his wrist to check his watch, then realized it was the wrong wrist. “Oops,” he said with a grin before checking the correct arm. “It’s only ten past seven.”

Treize fumbled with the keys, dropping the phone at least twice before finally being able to dial Lady Une’s number.

“...Leave a message.”

“Fucking answering machine,” Treize said in between tossing the phone onto the desk and slurping his newly poured drink. “I want to fucking kill that thing.”

Zechs grabbed the phone and dialed. “Let me show you how to do this.”

“Whatever,” Treize said, whirling his hand drowsily in the air.

“Hey...Colonel Une...” Zechs said.

Treize shot upright. “Is it her? Give me the phone...”

“It’s her voicemail,” Zechs said, “Hey. It’s Lieutenant Zechs...where in the hell have you been? We’ve been trying to call you all day...especially Treize...”

“Zechs!”

“Call back when you get this...and by the way, thanks for being a bitch and canceling my ammunition order. I just want you to know I rectified the situation. Thanks. Bye.”

He tossed the phone back onto the desk and poured another drink. Treize, who was on yet another scotch, had gotten to the point of missing his mouth half of the time and letting the liquid dribble down his uniform.

“Oops,” Treize said, looking down, then laughed.

“Call her again,” Zechs said, “This is fun.”

“Don’t,” Treize warned, “It’s going to aggravate her.”

“So?” Zechs grinned. “She’s been aggravating you all day, hasn’t she? Well, let’s give Lady Une her just desserts.”

“An interesting idea,” Treize slurred, “I like it. By damn, I like it a lot! Give me the phone!”

He dialed again while Zechs stumble to the cabinet to get another bottle of liquor.

“Colonel,” Treize said, “This is Treize Khushre...Kurshre...This is your General speaking. I’m terribly disappointed in your failure to arrive and attend to your duties, and to your disregarding of my calls...”

“And for being a bitch!” Zechs yelled from the background.

“And for being a bitch,” Treize parroted, then closed the phone.

Zechs was laughing so hard, he missed the glass and poured whiskey all over Treize’s desk. “I can’t believe you just called her a bitch!”

“Neither can I!” Treize cackled. He handed the phone to Zechs. “Your turn.”

“Hey, Lady Une,” Zechs said, “Hitler called. He wants his accent back!”

The calls went on well into the evening, past more and more alcohol. They did everything and anything they could, from singing to reciting speeches, to Lady Une impersonations.

Finally, Zechs took the game to a new level.

“Hey, Colonel Une...seriously...we’ve enjoyed leaving these messages almost as much as you’ve gotten pissed off by listening to them, but to be honest...there’s something you should know...” he paused, so as to make it more dramatic.

“...Treize is in love with you.”

Treize, for lack of a better term, nearly wet his pants. He grabbed the phone from Zechs and hung it up.

“What?” Zechs asked, “It was a joke!”

“I don’t want her thinking I’m...I’m...in love with her!” Treize griped, “I don’t even know the woman.”

“Sure you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.” Treize blinked. Zechs grinned. “You tricked me!”

“Into what, confessing?”

“My God,” Treize said, “I’m in love with that little fool, aren’t I? All of those arguments, those quips, her personality...I’ve fallen in love with her.”

“Here,” Zechs said, dialing the phone, “Tell her. Tell her now.”

“No!” Treize said, pushing the phone away.

“It’s ringing!”

“Uh...” Treize said after the voicemail picked up, “It’s me...I ah...”

“Do it!” Zechs yelled.

“Shut up!” Treize growled. “Sorry, that wasn’t meant for you. In regards to Zechs’ last message...I..I...”

For some strange reason, Treize suddenly got a burst of confidence.

“I’m in love with you, Anneke Une. Absolutely, positively head over heels in love with you. There. I’ve said it and you’ve heard it. Goodnight.”

He hung up the phone, triumphant and proud.

“Wow,” Zechs said, “I said tell her how you feel, not call her up and act like a slobbering idiot.”

Treize looked around. “We should probably sober up.”

“Never!” Zechs said, “But we’re definitely not in any shape to drive, so maybe slowing down would be a good idea.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Hey,” Zechs said in a serious, yet still drunken and slurred voice, “ Did you say she missed the meeting this morning?”

“Yes. Why?”

“It just occurred to me,” Zechs said, “Lady Une never misses meetings. Maybe...” his face grew serious. “Maybe something’s wrong.”

“Doubt it,” Treize said, “She’s ashamed of herself for being lax.”

“Now wait a minute,” Zechs said, “I admit, I had fun ragging on the Lady tonight, but seriously, Treize...what if something really happened to her?”

“Like what? What could possibly happen?”

“She lives in an apartment, right?”

“Townhouse, actually.”

“What if she fell down the stairs?”

Treize thought for a moment. Zechs went on.

“She could have slipped in the shower...”

“Lady Une is smart enough to dial 911.”

“Not if she’s unconscious...”

Treize suddenly felt his heart fall through to the floor. What if Zechs was right? What if she had fallen or hurt herself, and was lying there, helpless, while he had remained pissed off all day? What if she were knocked out cold and slowly dying while they were making prank calls to her cell phone?

No. She was fine. There was no need to worry.

“I just thought of something else,” Zechs said, “You know all that stuff you said before, about her being alone and unsocial?”

“Yes?”

“What if she committed suicide?”

Treize felt his blood run cold. “No...she wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know Lady Une.”

“A minute ago, you said you didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s one of them.”

“The point is,” Treize said, “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Why? She doesn’t want to devastate her friends and family?”

Treize paused. “She doesn’t have any.”

“Friends...or family?”

“Either.”

“For someone who claims they know nothing about someone, you sure seem to know a lot about Lady Une,” Zechs said, “Let’s see. No friends. No family. Everyone on base hates her. Nah...she doesn’t have any reason at all to commit suicide.”

The reality of his statement hit them like a ton of bricks. They sat staring at each other like stunned rabbits for a minute or so, then both jumped up at the same time.

“I’m going to her apartment,” Treize said.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Wait a minute,” said Treize, “Neither of us can drive. We’re drunk.”

“Shit,” said Zechs, “You’re right. Hang on.” He pulled out his cel phone and dialed away. “Noin,” Zechs said, “Can you...yeah. Yeah, I’ve had a few. Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t call. Look...can you come and get us? We need to...Treize. No, not to the bar, to Lady Une’s. Yes. Yes, you heard correctly. Why?” He looked to Treize. “We think she might have...well...committed suicide. Hello? Hello?”

He turned to Treize. “She hung up. Let’s go out front.”

“Why?”

“Because if I know Noin, she’s on her way.”

It took Noin six minutes to get from her apartment to the office building, and she wasn’t too happy at the sloppy, sad sight of Zechs and Treize.

“Get in,” Noin said, giving Zechs a glare, “This had better not be a joke.”

“No, seriously,” Zechs hiccuped, “We think she did it.”

“Zechs!” Treize snapped.

“Sorry...Sorry...” Zechs said, “But I mean, we did call her like...fifty times.”

“What?” Noin said, “Why?”

Zechs shrugged. “To mess with her.”

“What did you say, Zechs?”

“Well...” his cheeks turned pink.

“Ugly things?”

“Sort of.”

“Really Ugly things?”

“Define Really Ugly.”

Noin smacked Zechs. Treize remained silent in the back seat. “Zechs...” Noin growled.

“We called her a bitch, okay?” Zechs admitted.

“Both of you?” Noin said, looking at Treize in the rear view mirror.

“Both of us,” Treize said ashamedly.

“For God’s sakes,” Noin said, “The woman calls in sick with the flu and you assholes repay her by berating her all evening. If I would her, I’d commit suicide too!”

Treize felt like fainting. “The...the flu?”

“Called in sick?” Zechs asked.

“Where in the hell have you two been?” Noin blasted, “She called bright and early this morning, said she couldn’t get through to Treize’s office, or yours, or mine. She said she left a message on Treize’s cel phone.”

Zechs turned all the way around in his seat while Treize pulled out his cel and checked his voicemail. For some reason, the message icon hadn’t shown up. His face turned ten shades of white as the message Noin had spoken about began to play.

“General, this is Colonel Une. I have the flu and won’t be in today, so as not to risk infecting anyone. I’m terribly sorry and will take care of my duties as soon as possible.”

“What did it say?” Zechs asked.

“Probably the same thing I told you it would say,” Noin griped, “That she was sick and wouldn’t be coming into the office today!”

“Treize?” Zechs asked. “Treize, are you all right?”

“I’m a jackass,” Treize said solemnly, “A complete, total, and utter jackass.”

“You’re not the only one,” Noin said, giving Zechs a harsh stare.

They pulled into Lady Une’s townhouse seconds later. Treize and Zechs would have been content to stay in the car, but Noin wouldn’t stand for it. She reached over and opened Zechs’ door, unbuckled his seat belt and pushed him out onto the driveway. As he rolled and fumbled to stand up, Noin walked past him, opened Treize’s door and dragged him out also.

“Go on,” Noin said, “Go check on her, and when you see she’s fine, other than being ravaged by a hideous virus, apologize.”

“Aren’t you coming in?” Zechs asked pitifully.

“Nope,” Noin said, walking back around to the driver’s side door, “This is all you, boys. All you.”

“How will we get home?” Zechs asked.

“Call a cab,” Noin answered. She shut the door and drove off, leaving Treize and Zechs to stand in front of Lady Une’s door.

“Knock,” Zechs whispered.

“You,” Treize said.

“You.”

“Fine, damn it!” Treize hissed, then rapped on the door. When there was no immediate answer, he began to panic. He rapped again until he was all but banging the door down.

“Who is it?” Came a thick, but syrupy German-laced voice from within.

“It’s ah...”

“It’s Lieutenant Zechs,” Zechs bellowed, “Open the door! It’s cold.”

“Zechs, you pitiful, miserable...” Lady Une growled as she opened the door, stopping short when she saw Treize was standing there as well. “...bastard.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “What do you want?”

Treize felt uncomfortable, realizing this was mainly addressed to him and even more guilty at the mere sight of her. The long brown hair hung loose, and she was dressed in a bathrobe with a rather generous split up the side. He had to admit she did look like a different person with her hair down, that she was very attractive.

Lady Une leaned forward and wrinkled her nose. “Are you drunk?”

“We ah...” Treize said, scratching the back of his neck, “Wanted to come and check on you. I heard you were ill.”

“Oh you did, did you?” Lady Une said sarcastically, “Realized you’d filled up my voicemail box, so you came here to deliver insults in person?”

Zechs laughed and Treize elbowed him sharply. “Lady, I-“

“I have told you time and time again, do not call me by that silly pet name! I’m not a cocker spaniel, damn you!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Zechs mumbled, earning him another elbow to the ribs from Treize. “Ouch!”

“I’m sorry, Colonel,” Treize said, “Truly. I let my anger get the better of me, and I did not get your message until just now. What we did was pathetic, childish and cruel.”

For a moment, it seemed as though she might slam the door in their faces, but either she had a high fever or Treize’s plea for forgiveness worked. She dropped her arms and opened the door.

“Get out of the night air,” Lady Une said, “Before you both get sick.”

Treize and Zechs walked into the modest townhouse, both feeling like cads the moment they did. The furniture was minuscule and non-matching and the walls bare. There was a television set and a radio and nothing more.

“I’m not one for decorations,” Lady Une said, as if she could read their thoughts. She went into the small kitchen, opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of asprin. “Hold out your hands,” she instructed, then dropped four aspirin each in their outstretched palms.

“You’re not going to vomit, are you?” Lady Une said. Both men shook their heads, and it was the truth. Neither of them were much for throwing up. They could hold their liquor well. She sighed, then took two sodas from the refrigerator. “Drink this and you’ll have less of a hangover tomorrow.”

“How do you know all this?” Zechs asked.

“I’m an Officer, not a nun,” Lady Une said, “Contrary to your belief, I do know what a hangover feels like.”

They looked to the floor, embarrassed.

“I need to call a cab,” Zechs said.

“They’re done for the night,” Lady Une said, “Stops at nine on weeknight.”

“Why didn’t I know that?” Zechs said.

“Because you have a car and don’t rely on the taxi to take you where you need to go.”

Now Treize and Zechs felt even worse. They had been so caught up in things they hadn’t noticed there was no car parked in the driveway. Treize especially felt like an ass, seeing he had noticed no bike or motorcycle either.

“You use the taxi?” Treize asked.

“When I go off base,” Lady Une said, “Otherwise, I walk.”

“I see.”

“I have a spare room,” she said, “One of you can sleep in the bed, and the other on the couch. I’ll go get your bedding.” She climbed up the staircase to retrieve the sheets, leaving Treize and Zechs alone in the living room.

While she was gone, Zechs leaned over and nudged Treize. “I’ll take the couch. Go up and talk to her.”

“Are you insane?”

“Yes.”

Treize didn’t know how to answer that comment, so he just left it alone. Lady Une reappeared with a pillow and a blanket, which Zechs all but snatched from her hand.

“Thanks,” he said, “I think I’m going to go to bed, if that’s okay.”

“Suit yourself,” Lady Une answered, “I’m going back to bed as well.”

Zechs laid on the couch and pulled the covers over his head. Lady Une flipped off the lights and headed back up the stairs, Treize right behind her.

“Here is your room,” she said, showing him to a tiny closet of a bedroom. There were two pieces of furniture, a small twin-sized bed and a dresser. “Lavatory is right next door to you.”

“Thank you,” Treize said.

She began to walk away, then turned around. “I have a question.”

“All right.”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“No, those were just petty insults,” Treize said, “A poor excuse for misguided anger.”

“Not that,” Lady Une said, “The other.”

He remembered what she was talking about and honestly, he had to ask himself again, now that he was sobering up. He contemplated, then answered.

“Yes.”

She nodded. “I see. Well...goodnight.”

And she flipped off his light and shut the door, leaving Treize in the dark and only able to utter one word.

“Damn!”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Treize and Zechs called an early cab and quietly slipped out of Lady Une’s townhouse. The last thing they wanted to do was wake her, not to mention they both had raging headaches.

“Are you taking a holiday?” Zechs asked quietly.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yep.”

The cab pulled to Zechs’ front gates and he got out slowly. “I’ll call you later,” he said, then sneezed. “Shit,” Zechs lamented, “Now I’m going to get the flu.” He punched in his code and walked through the opening gate, leaving Treize alone in the cab.

Once back in his Manor, Treize went up to his bedroom and fell face forward onto the bed, falling asleep immediately.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He awoke several hours later, hot and sweaty. He took his temperature and when the thermometer began to climb past one hundred, he dropped it into the sink and went to the sofa, plopping down in front of the television.

This was exactly the fitting punishment for what he had done. He had shown no mercy to Lady Une and now he was sick. The red light on his cordless was blinking, indicating he had a voicemail.

“I had better see who it is,” Treize said, “Although I doubt I’ll be treated the way I treated her.”

“This is Anneke...”

He straightened up in his seat.

“I decided to spare you a boatload of messages, so I’ll reply with one long voicemail, and shall try to address all of the issues presented...

“First...I have been to the opera many times, I simply don’t care for Wagner like you do. If you wish for me to go to the opera, then choose something with better music.

“Second, I do have makeup and I do wear it when I’m not running around the office or in the field executing maneuvers and drills.

“Third, Yes, I am a bitch, although I didn’t realize I was hated by so many people. I’ll...well, I’ll try to change that.

“Fourth, Tell Zechs to go fuck himself.

“Fifth...I...I’m in love with you as well.”

That was it, the message in its entirety, for she had hung up right after her confession.

Treize sat in disbelief for a moment, then leapt to his feet. He had a plan.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Lady Une opened her door, this time in her pajamas, she was surprised to see Treize, standing in a trenchcoat, with both hands behind his back.

“May I come in?” He said.

She moved and allowed him to come inside.

“I got your message,” He said.

“And?”

“And I decided instead of me being sick at home and you being sick at home, we should be sick together,” He said, pulling one hand from behind his back and handing her a single rose. “I must apologize...I took it from the vase on the piano, but I’ll give you dozens more once we’re better.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lady Une sniffed, “I’ve never been given flowers before...”

“I’m going to change that.” He stepped closer to her and leaned forward, intending to kiss her.

“Treize,” Lady Une said, putting her hand up, “Wait...”

“Am I being too forward?”

“No, I-“

“You’re seeing someone.”

“No...I’ve never dated before.”

“Then what is it?”

“I...I...” she said before erupting into a loud sneeze, then grinned. “I didn’t want to sneeze on you.”

Treize laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “My poor sick Lady...er...”

“It’s fine,” Lady Une said, “I didn’t mean that.” She eyed the hand still behind his back. “What’s that?”

“Oh this?” He said, pulling the hand forth to reveal a handful of DVDs. “This is our entertainment for the day. Shall I?”

She nodded, and he inserted a disc into the player and sat on the couch, motioning for her to sit next to him. They cuddled up to one another underneath the blanket and spent the rest of the day watching movies...

...and sneezing on each other.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The end

This fic was a whim...just had to write it.