Thanks to serenity wayne, Bluejello, Princesakarlita411, e.elusive, Fire Dolphin, Kristine, DollFace, Jypsee and those who emailed me (you now who you are) for reviewing. I would lavish you all with praise, but instead I'm pretty sure you'd rather just want the next chapter XD.

I know some of you were very confused, while others, I have a sneaking suspicion you have been looked at the planning map as your guesses are far too accurate.

Double meanings here, but I’m pretty sure they’re obvious as a bull’s eye. WuFei, Hiiro, and the subtly of a brick. But don’t blame the man, he’s a soldier not a politician. The politicians show up later.

The rating went up to PG13, cause the characters were getting potty mouthed. x. And ff .net can't decide if it wants to let me use my dividers or not, some times it works, some times it doesn't. please bear with me.

Notes: Quid Pro Quo - something for something.

Title: Sand Beneath My Feet
Summary: Hiiro is seeking redemption. Usagi wants salvation. Meilan chases after justice. Nephrite is trying to deal with being alive for the first time in a thousand years. HiiroUsagi MeilanWufei NephriteNaru. Everything eventually returns to its origins.

Barely six hours after WuFei had initially seen Yui, he opened the door to his office as he returned with another cup of coffee; he sensed and saw the presence by the far wall.

Since Yui had left WuFei sat for hours in his chair, overwhelmed by the past and bitter regrets. The work he had planned on completing lay forgotten and unfinished until WuFei had pulled himself out of his recollections to notice his cold coffee. Physically tired and emotionally drained he hadn’t even the energy to curse Yui in his mind. He simply accepted it would be another all-nighter in the office, which he would he getting a lecture about from his partner Sally Po in the morning for, and went to dump out and retrieve another cup of coffee from the staff room.

All of the other workers had left. The only lights shining in the hallway as he walked was the light from his office and the staff room, which never got turned off for those who, like WuFei, pulled erratic all-nighters.

As he entered the office he noticed the man standing motionless mere feet away from his desk, his form half covered in shadows. But it was a familiar picture.

“Yui.” He acknowledged, yet something in him, instincts honed by battle, told him to take care.

The eyes glowed with a dangerous light and the titled Perfect Soldier exuded a more imposing air then normal.

“Chang.” Yui returned, but made no other movement.

WuFei walked calmly to the edge of his desk, placed his cup down, and did not go around to his chair. He stood where he was, the rectangular table a physical barrier between the Preventer and the renegade fighter.

“You returned fairly fast.” The Chinese man remarked, hands spreading out on the table top, “Have you found some information? Anything you want to tell me?”

Yui was silent, half shrouded face impassive. Then he crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder onto the wall. “Your wife is an impressive fighter.”

The hands gripped harshly at the edges of the table. Yui shouldn’t know that. Yui shouldn’t have known about WuFei’s marriage in the first place but that was a matter of public record, this was almost speaking of personal information about a deceased that was almost impossible to know. There was also the matter of the verb tense Yui was using. He hadn’t thought of it before when Yui had mentioned WuFei’s marriage, pondering of tenses was irrational when one knew the truth. Yet Yui was again speaking in the present, and those implications were absurd to contemplate.

“My wife is dead.” WuFei bit out, and for a moment he hated Yui for making him say it, to remember it.

His wife’s memory was sacred, known only to him and the very few left who had been off Colony when his mentor had detonated his home. He had honored Long MeiLan’s memory by fighting in the War and naming his Gundam Nataku. Though it could have been argued he made a mess of it in his jumbled ideals at the time.

He had fought for her justice, and he still was, only now he doing it in a different way.

Perhaps the Perfect Soldier had discovered WuFei’s old certificates but hadn’t found the articles concerning the prominent Long Clan Heir’s funeral. The polished edges of the table dug into his palm but WuFei refused to let the anger show on his face, no more then what was already visibly.

“And what would you do if you had a second chance?” Dark eyes looked at him considering.

WuFei glared at the absurdity of that concept. “What are you getting at Yui?”

“What would you do?”

“She’s dead.” WuFei said through clenched teeth and hated Yui all the more for using his wife’s memory for his owns means.

“And if she’s not?”

WuFei looked at him in disbelief then let out a bark of laughter. “I buried her. I was there when her last breath left her body. I held her as her warmth cooled. I-” was weak.

It had been an emotionally grueling day, this was the second time the past had come to rage at him.

“What do you want Yui?” he asked warily. “And what does this have to do with the read-outs from the Artic?”

“What would you do if she was still alive?”

“Yui!”

“The energy is gone.”

“What?” WuFei demanded. “What do you mean?”

“The energy is gone.” Yui replied evenly. “You can check, but it’s gone.”

“How can it be gone? Did someone harness it? What was the source? How did you know it was gone?” He demanded.

“Wufei.”

The Chinese man narrowed his eyes. So they were playing Quid Pro Quo. Yui must have something up his sleeve, he always did, but WuFei had no clue how his response might matter.

“If,” he stopped. “If,” he couldn’t even speak of the ridiculous possibility. “If,” maybe because he had conditioned himself never to think about it, because otherwise he would never live in the present, in the reality, “if she was still alive.” He finally said. “If,” he struggled with the words, “my wife was still alive, if I had a second chance…” He spoke clumsily and halting, but Yui made no indication to hurry him along, simply watching the Chinese man with dark, glittering eyes. “I would show her the man I’ve become. Hold on to her. This time, appreciate her. Show her I’ve become a man worthy of her, because of her.”

WuFei let out a deep breath and it was like a weight had been freed from his chest, at the same time regrets crushed down his shoulders. Perhaps he had needed to talk about her, but he never wanted to share her with anyone. Not even now, when perhaps he knew that speaking of her would help him let go.

He didn’t want to let go.

He had made peace with himself through the war and Mariemaia Rebellion about the stupid and ignorant youth he had been, and the past he couldn’t change, he accepted his victories as well as failures. But he never accepted that he had to let her go. He didn’t want to. MeiLan was his ghost and burden, his justice and conviction, his to carry and bear. His deity and warrior spirit.

He looked at the other soldier to see Yui closed his eyes. The other man’s skin seemed clammy and too pale, a hand twitched in the darkness.

“Yui?”

The brunette breathed shallowly and his eyelids fluttered open, hands fisting together. “I’m fine.” The man said evenly but his voice was weaker then before and the surrounding darkness seemed to be drawn into his body, the shadows around them lightening.

“Yui?” WuFei repeated.

Prussian blue eyes flickered as if the Perfect Soldier was fighting with something internally. Hiiro Yui closed his eyes and for long moments his face was strained. Then it smoothed out and the stoic man was back to normal.

“What if she was alive,” Yui finally said with the correct past tense, “but didn’t want you to know it?”

WuFei’s lips pinched. There had to be a reason why Yui was so adamant about speaking of MeiLan. “If my wife is alive, I would seek her out. Hold on to her. Make things right, this time around.”

Blue eyes were half amused and WuFei pondered on the reason, and mentally cursed, as he noticed his own slip of verb tense.

Yui's tone was sardonic. “What if she’s become beyond the reach of ordinary men?”

WuFei replied bitterly. “Hasn’t she always been?”

MeiLan had been the last Heir to the prominent Long Clan. Had she been male, there would have been no one to match her status. There still hadn’t been. No other Clan could even think about matching up to the prestige and power the exulted Long Clan held. But because she had been a female, and the line descended through male children, she had to marry and produce sons. There had been many stringent and harsh requirements to be selected as her husband, when they had informed WuFei that he was the final candidate, he hadn’t believed it. His own family had been shocked but ecstatic. What an honor it was. But it had stung WuFei’s pride that he was to be used and not the user. He would not be in the traditional superior position of the male to the female. Instead WuFei was to be the means to an end, instead of the ending.

What arrogance the younger boy he had been had. And what insensitivity that he couldn’t for a moment, ever have thought of the indignation that MeiLan must have suffered to know that no matter how talented and strong she was, because of a single circumstance of birth, simply because she had been born a girl, she would never be enough for her people: to know that she had to marry down because there were no peers of her own standing. If she had any male cousins or even uncles who had been eligible, no other option would have been contemplated. But war was approaching, and all her male relatives were married or engaged.

She had always been beyond his reach, beyond anyone’s reach. If he or any of the other Clan boys had come courting, they would have been laughed out of the compound. None of them could ever match up to her status. But because of the circumstances, because in the end it didn’t matter who the husband was as long as they were MeiLan’s sons, WuFei’s superior intellect and marital art skills among his peers had allowed him the coveted position as her husband.

But that did not mean he was worthy of her. She had known it. He had known it. What a wedding day that had been; her icy face and plain dissatisfaction of him, his act of blatant disrespect, throwing down his wedding gear at the altar. The consummation later they both forced themselves to endure for the sake of honor and duty. The shame and disgrace he must have brought on her, she had lashed out in teenage rage but endured her fate fantastically.

She was Nataku, strong and fierce and refused to bow even when defeated. She had always been beyond the reach of ordinary men. Even beneath him in the mattress or held in his arms as she was dying, she could never chained down to such mortal men as he.

There was silence between the two men.

Yui threw back his head, whole body shaking, and laughed deep, sharp, and mockingly. When he looked at WuFei the eyes were darker then any blue and the sense of otherworldliness was back and stronger then before.

“Yes. Yes.” Yui agreed with a cruel twist of the lips. “Yes she has.”

“What does my wife have to do with anything?” WuFei demanded, no longer patient to play the game.

“‘My wife’, ‘my wife’; for one who is considered deceased,” Yui smiled contemptuously, “you’re pretty possessive.”

WuFei glared. “The point Yui.”

The brunette looked at him for a long, quiet moment. “Your wife,” Yui replied, his lips curling with satisfaction, “is alive. No if, or what if, or maybe, about it.”

WuFei stared blankly.

“Long MeiLan,” there was a certain amount of enjoyment Hiiro Yui was getting out of this announcement, “is alive. Your wife is alive.”

“You lie.” WuFei spat. “What the hell do you think you’re trying to do? I was there. I held her when she died and I buried her, you fucking bastard. Stop trying to play games with me!”

“She is an impressive fighter.” Yui continued unruffled. “Her stance is solid but her frame is too slight for some of the moves she tries. She likes to practice her Tai Chi at annoyingly early hours before the sun rises. Her gaze is solid but always staring beyond you when she’s facing you.”

WuFei was frozen. Those weren’t thing Yui should know. Weren’t things anyone except WuFei should know.

“She’s stubborn and headstrong, too proud to admit she’s wrong. Too naïve to give up her ideals, even in the face of adversity.”

“Shut up.”

“Too easily provoked. Refuses to back down from a fight.”

“Shut up.”

“Never takes the easy way out. Refuses to accept any signs of weakness.”

“Shut UP!” WuFei slammed his fist onto the desk. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” He roared at his once fellow comrade. “You have no right to speak of her.” His face contorted in fury. “You have no right to talk as if you know her!”

Yui’s deep, controlled breathing was loud in the silence.

Dark glittering eyes watched him amused. “No right to speak as if I know her or no right to know her?” a deliberate pause. “When you don’t.”

WuFei threw the cup of coffee at the composed soldier. The liquid sloshed over the rim and onto the floor broads as it sailed across the air, but it was still half full when it reached the shrouded figure. But without making contact the coffee, cup and liquid, was swallowed into the darkness. The empty porcelain rolled out of the shadows a moment later.

WuFei now knew he wasn’t dealing with a regular human. He wasn’t dealing with a human at all, the sense of otherworldliness heavy and thick in the air.

“She’s alive Chang WuFei. Long MeiLan is alive, I can guarantee you that.” There was something so persuasive and enticing about the voice.

This wasn’t Yui. WuFei wasn’t speaking with Hiiro Yui at the moment.

“She’s alive, and ascended. She’s become a woman far beyond the reach of ordinary men. And in the future, she will only become more so.” There was something almost bitter about the words.

WuFei stared. He wasn’t sure if he could believe the words from this suddenly unfamiliar man, such impossibilities. Yet the air was thick with things he didn’t understand and he remembered the cup flying into nothingness and rolling out of wispy shadows. If it was possible, if such an improbability was true…

“That doesn’t matter.” WuFei replied adamantly. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve known that since the beginning. And she’s mine now. Given to me by family and honor and duty. If no man can measure up to her, and all are equally undeserving, she’ll belong with me.” His tone was fierce. “It was decided a long time ago. She’s my wife.”

Obscure eyes gazed at him but obsidian was unwavering. He wasn’t going to back down from his convictions. She was the truth he had chosen to carry, his strength and justice, Nataku.

The wide abyss staring back at him slowly blinked and became vivid, but human, Prussian blue. “Show me sin can be forgiven.”

WuFei and Hiiro stared at each other, both faces set with a hard expression.

“And tell Ms. Dorian, the people she’s dealing with won’t be patient for much longer.”

Then WuFei was alone in the office.

The technician pulled off the ear pieces and leaned back in his chair. “Contact the Governor General. We received another extraterrestrial message.”

“What does it say?” His comrade asked. This was the latest of the top secret communication they had been receiving from the reaches of the stars since they began in the last month.

The Technician smiled warily. “What do they always say? They want the return of their Princess.”

. : past and present : .