AN: Okay, yeah, I just am going to beat the horse when it comes to drunken behavior. Really, I don't know why I always want to get Relena inebriated- I'm not even much of a drinker. It just happens. I just look at her character's trials and tribulations and think "Here's a stiff one, sweetheart. Cheers." And I guess it's reflected in my fanfic. ANYWAY, big thank you to the co-author, Coley Merrin, for sitting on AIM with me and chortling as we took turns writing passages. This was written years ago, but I can still pick out her little gems :) If you're reading this, girl, it was a blast writing with you.
The Hazards of Drunk Driving
Co-authored by moi and Coley Merrin
Well. There it was. Ms. Darlian, a hoard of viable and (questionable) virile males, fawning and tripping over themselves to fetch her champagne glasses, and that slinky dress she purposely wore. Relena mentally groused. The only men who ever took enough notice of her to fetch her drinks at social balls were Quatre or the odd political lobbyist. And on top of that, the lights at these functions were either too bright or too dim. Both options suggested that whoever was in charge of setup had broken out the alcoholic cheer before everyone else had the pleasure. All in all, the night was completely ruined. She was a spinster virgin married to her career, her mother was a sex-goddess men her own age were drooling after, and on top of it, Relena had eyestrain.
Actually, that champagne wasn't looking half bad. Technically she had already had her cut-off of three glasses, but hell, she was in a mood. She was neither a happy, sad, or angry almost-drunk. It had been something she had tested in those off moments. If anything she got more somber, which was a raw deal when you looked at the expectation of alcohol as relaxant.
A fourth glass could be looked at as an anniversary of sorts. One more chance to wear fabulous, sexy underwear knowing full well she was the only one who could appreciate it. One more chance to wear a fashionable dress which hid nearly all of her, and what it did show was rendered sexless by her position. Not least of those chances was the option to daydream about kidnapping Heero and making him watch her pull up her skirt to show off her Very. Fashionable. Underwear. The wonderful sexy underwear. The same underwear that she had bought... more or less with him in mind. If she looked at it that way, she deserved that glass! As an anniversary to being sexually repressed. She toasted the ill fated lights. To Heero's lacking kisses, may they find her thigh before she wrinkles.
You know, a fifth glass was also a marker of sorts. You've tested the edge. Found it wanting. You need to push it a step further. She tugged at the collar of her dress. One more glass to resenting high-necked silk ensembles. One more glass to brooding over fantasies that would only remain such. One more touch of sweet alcohol to dull the anger at being repressed, constrained and put-upon when she should be at the peak of her young life.
And so on and so forth, until Relena was nursing her seventh. It was when she came to the realization that her lips were slurring the toasts and that the idea of climbing up on the food table and exhibiting that wonderful underwear was becoming more exhilarating than ridiculous that Relena realized it was time to make her graceful (at this point, could she even claim the coined term?) exit. She would leave her mother the limo and call a cab. Suddenly, her eyes came to rest on a familiar mop of hair- Heero was guard duty tonight? Wicked thoughts and a wickeder grin brightened Relena's face. Maybe she wouldn't be needing that cab after all. She hiked up her skirts and marched right over to her traitorous sire, drawing herself up tall and indignant as she addressed her.
"Mother, I will be leaving now. I have my own ride, and I will see you at the mansion. Have a nice evening." Thoroughly satisfied that she had delivered the chilliest greeting she could muster to someone so dear to her (even in the throes of inebriation and illogical anger Relena could not deny this) she marched right up those pompous marble steps, stopping only to crook a finger to her favorite bodyguard.
It was easy to imagine the look of confusion littering his face as he toddled after her. He was toddling, because if she was, he had to be too. It was a reassuring revelation that the world was indeed flat, when her delicately heeled foot came down with a slam as she found out there were no more steps. It took only a moment to sway the world back upright, and away she went. He was behind her now, she was sure, maybe even within a foot. Maybe even close enough to smell her. She stopped, feeling a distinct slosh that seemed weird even to her at that moment. And realized her elbow was rubbing his. They were rubbing elbows. Hee. There were all sorts of euphemisms for sex, but somehow she wished that were one of them.
"I think I wish to go home," she stated. In her mind it was firm, on her vocal cords it was tremulous, and in the air, it was a plea. No, an order, she corrected. A very orderly order. Why... she could order him to... No, that would be entirely improper. Best leave that to fantasy. She pouted at her reflection until he pulled her away from the car door she was nose-to-glass with. All the better to keep her upright, she chortled inside. The door had to be open for her to get inside, fancy that. Ah, but inside... she could rub elbows with him again.
The heat from the vents was very welcome in the chilly air, and Heero slouched squint-eyed and silent in his seat. Relena was none too amused with this development, and turned to her own musings to keep her sane. The once-welcome heating turned deadly as her silk dress became as constricting as any snake may, perhaps worse in the presence of such a tempting man, knowing she'd like nothing better than to be rid of the burden for reasons unrelated to temperature. But behold! Salvation in the form of a pocket knife tucked away on the dashboard.
"Why do I always have to cover up every bit and piece like some old granny?" She muttered, as she snatched it before Heero could read the intent to do so.
"Relena, I don't think that's such a good…"
The sigh was almost as euphoric as the cooler air hit her exposed legs. The underwear had come with garters and thigh highs. At least Heero would see the latter now. In no time flat, the collar received the same treatment, though Heero wouldn't stop shrieking about knives, her currently toasted state, and the jugular vein. Really, the man was downright morbid sometimes.
'The man' wasn't slouched now, that's for sure. No, he was ramrod straight, hands gripping the steering wheel in a white knuckled spectacle of uptightness.
Maybe she'd have to do something about that.
Heero found Relena's currently disheveled state of dress... distracting. True, it was a wet dream come true when she ripped off her skirt to reveal lacy underthings he couldn't stop eyeing from his peripheral vision. But damn it, she was drunk, and he couldn't help feeling the overeager bastard for enjoying it. After all, these situations never happened in real life. It was always a lame plot device in movies, or Relena's romance novels. No, no, no, never ever did the untouchable heroine actually rip her dress to shreds in your car, and she would never sidle up to you like she did just now, and you wouldn't get such a thrill from the minor touch of her head on your shoulder. Heero swallowed, already too aware of Relena. He would have to distract himself, that much was certain. Conversation.
"Why did you decide to go over your limit tonight, Relena?" A topic he had legitimate curiosity about.
Relena's contented smile tensed into a frown. "My mother. Did you see all those men waiting on her?"
Heero had to admit, he couldn't give a flip about Relena's mother. The majority of his attention had been on his charge, as it would have been job or no.
"I did not."
"Well, they were. Men younger than me even!" She sat up, and crossed her arms, clearly frumping. "How is it my mother gets laid more than I do? Not that it's hard to get more laid than me, considering IT'S NEVER HAPPENED!" She shouted the last part, though Heero doubted she knew her voice had risen to such volumes.
"Not that I haven't had more than enough suggestions." She continued, now in a full fledged ranting mode.
"Suggestions?" Heero's shell shocked state suddenly was colored with the intent to murder. If any of those high and mighty government bastards so much as...
"Yes! It's so patronizing! Not to mention embarrassing. Dorothy insists that you and I should be going at it like animals by now." She was squinting hard at him, a look of serious concentration wrinkling her brow. "I told her, Heero." her voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, her body violating more personal space than Heero could ignore, "But she doesn't listen!"
Heero's thought process was stopped cold. Relena and-? In his minds eye she was over him, under him, moaning at his touch, screaming as she climaxed, and he could almost taste her skin as he bit her shoulder-
The steering wheel creaked under his fingers. Were it to snap in two, he wouldn't have been surprised. Was it him, or was it getting hard to breath? He was suddenly aware of Relena's eyes on him, calculating and unblinking. What was she thinking?
"Yes?" He managed after clearing his throat.
"You know, it's not a half bad idea."
The car swerved off the road, and Relena, devoid of any seatbelt after her flirtation with Heero's pocketknife and her skirt line, went flying straight into his lap. Heero righted the car immediately, more than aware of Relena's proximity. She was pressed to him in all the right ways and he was all too uncomfortably aware of how tight his pants were. He thought she purred as she slid her arms over his neck.
"Relena, you've had a lot to drink. Your decision making process is impaired." He began, somewhat haltingly as she toyed with the hair at the back of his nape.
"I know, isn't it wonderful? I never would have had the courage to do this if I was sober." She smiled dreamily, an expression she rarely wore. Seeing her so uncharacteristically out of it redoubled Heero's resolve to stop her before he caved in to what she was offering.
"You're going to regret this tomorrow." He argued desperately. Her left knee found its' way over his hip. Oh god, she was straddling him. Hope was fading fast. The ship was sinking. Mayday, mayday!
"That's all anyone says to me." She whispered, the brush of her lips and breath against his ear tingling all the way down his back. "Don't get involved in this conflict, you'll regret it. Don't represent this viewpoint, you'll regret it. Don't get involved with this man, you'll regret it." Her thumb rubbing his lower lip made it very difficult to concentrate on the road. "Heero, I'm tired. I'm so tired of worrying over mistakes I have yet to make."
Heero could sympathize. How many times during the war had he sat up at night, agonizing over who to support, what battles to become involved in, what he should do about the woman in his lap?
"I don't care if I'll regret this. At least I'll have taken a chance." She kissed down the side of his neck, a lazy progress he found maddening and irresistible.
"I'm driving." His last protest.
"That's okay." Her mouth sealed any response he could've given, and god, she shouldn't know how to kiss like that, not when she claimed to be so un-experienced. His eyes were fighting him to drift shut, but no, sight on the road, mind on the driving.
Her fingers had found their way under his shirt, and the play of her soft skin over touch-starved muscles made him bit back throaty groans. There was only so much torture a man could take, and Relena was pushing him faster towards his limits. She ground her hips and chest to his as Relena lost herself in sensation and Heero knew it would be impossible to control his panting breath now.
Could he deny now how badly he had wanted her all these years? That the lust he felt ravage his pulse rate was just a normal and healthy attraction to a young woman? Heero knew he could not. No 'young woman' had quite made him feel like this. He wanted to kneel before her and conquer her at the same time. It was nothing short of an epiphany as Heero finally came to terms with the one aspect of their relationship he had been in constant denial about.
If only he wasn't driving, if only it wasn't so late at night, if only Relena wasn't so drunk. He pulled up short on that one. It was wrong on so many levels, the whole situation. Relena didn't, and couldn't possibly understand the gravity of the choices she was prepared to make, and Heero knew that in good conscious he could not pursue anything with her tonight. But it felt so right, especially when she nibbled on his lower lip like that and WHY GOD, WHY DID SHE HAVE TO BE DRUNK!?
She pulled back from her oh-so-welcome assault on his mouth, pouting up at him.
"You're a cold man, Yuy. A cold man, indeed."
Cold was not the word.
She yawned, stretching both arms over her head in an artless display of fatigue. "I'm feeling a little bit tired." In less than two seconds flat she was slumped against his chest and snoring lightly.
There was only the sound of Relena sleeping, and the concrete rushing under his tires.
'Life...is hard.' Heero thought, still aroused and unfulfilled, aggravation narrowing his eyes to slits. His fingers were numb on the steering wheel as Relena mumbled and drooled on his chest.
'Life...is unfair.' He nodded sympathetically to his own thoughts as if to say "Right on, inner dialogue, I'm with you on that one."
Relena kicked a little, moaning in her sleep, "Oh Heero! Not there...naughty boy!"
He heaved a sigh. 'Life...as we now know it...with the experiences we now have...will be filled with very tense business hours, and very cold showers.'
Even though he wasn't pleased, it was with a smile that he rested his head on the crown of Relena's, and with a gentle hand that he put her to bed.
But, before he faced the road and the fresh memories made in his car, the former Gundam pilot made a silent vow.
To finish it, one day.