Chapter Text
Fluffbruary prompt: stay
The hangar door opened just enough for the car to slip in.
Heero sprang to the opening as soon as the car stopped inside.
Relena jumped out of her seat, just in time to catch her pilot single-handedly maneuvering the massive sliding panels – how did one man possibly handle that kind of weight? – and her half-frozen brain barely processed that he was dragging the door closed. Not open.
The sound echoed even after the panel slammed shut.
Relena shoved her gloved hands inside her coat pockets. Heavens, it was freezing—
…and miserably dark. She looked around as her eyes adjusted. The hangar took form around her: the violet cast of the car headlamps, the hard shadows beyond their reach, the wind and snow blowing outside.
"Guess we aren't flying."
Came a grunt from her side. "No."
"We aren't driving back to town either."
A hardened clump of ice had fallen off one of the car's back tires. He kicked it away with the side of one boot.
"...I suppose not."
Heero had disappeared into one corner without waiting for her to reply. Relena watched him go, watched as the overhead lighting flickered on. Cool white LEDs hung in an uneven row above the lone aircraft – theirs – leaving the far corners in shadow. The light spilled downward in hard lines, catching the wing's leading edge and the rivets along the fuselage, while the tail faded into a dim blur.
He came back to turn the car engine off.
From the outside, the small hangar looked like a refuge.
Inside, it was simply flat and gray. Concrete slabs, corrugated panels. Powdery snow streaked along the sliding doors, under the bottom edge, melting into dark, irregular patches on the floor.
"Are we sleeping in the car?"
A gust of wind struck the hangar siding, making it thrum – a low, hollow sound that carried through the structure. Visions of hypothermia and frostbite flashed through her mind's eye, even as she tried to pull herself together. She was only human.
"That's one option."
She heard what he didn't outright say.
"You have a better option."
He tilted his head towards the back of the hangar. A single work light burned warmer near one bench, almost yellow compared to the overheads.
On its side, she could make out the shape of a door.
He had been serious when he said it wasn't much of a rest stop.
The first thing Heero did when he got the door to open was to check the heater.
He crouched to turn it on. The baseboard unit answered with a small, mechanical sound—a click, then a faint ticking as it came alive. He took one glove off and hovered his hand above the vents. It took minutes before he detected the first hint of warmth against the back of his hand. Not exactly toasty, but noticeably distinct from the air outside.
Relena had paused beside the open door, before lowering her hood and followed him in.
The office, if it could be called that, was tiny.
He watched her eyes sweep through the space, noting the sparseness of the furnishing. One battered desk across the door, paired with one chair, straight-backed. Utility shelves lined one side, flush against the wall, with barely enough space for the cabinet door to open. An aged couch. A short filing cabinet on coasters, doubling as a low table.
Not much space to fit anything else in.
"It's a nice room," she said.
He snorted. Nice only in a sense that it was insulated, albeit poorly. The door didn't close perfectly. Cold air seeped in still, pooling on the floor. A step up from sleeping inside the car, sure, but not by much.
Relena had closed the door behind her, turned the desk light on. Warm yellow light spilled across the frosted window, ice scattering faint shadows across the wall. His gaze followed a trail to her profile.
She stood there in the low light, silent. One gloved hand slid down the windowpane, folded back behind her other hand, at the waistband of her coat. Her breath showed in the cold, a brief bloom of white that appeared and vanished, like something she hadn't meant to give away.
Frosted windows meant air was leaking through the seals. Uneven temperature.
She must have felt the chill.
A gray wool blanket lay draped over the sofa. He tugged it free with one hand. Heavy, a little worn, but clean. It was lacking, but it would have to do.
The glow of the propane heater looked warmer than it actually felt.
Even with a secondary heater on, the room was still chilly. She hoped it would improve once both had time to work.
She shifted on the sofa, parting the front of her coat and letting her scarf fall a little looser around her neck.
Tugging one glove off, she flexed her fingers, testing movement. She rubbed them against the inside of her palm for warmth, then repeated the motion with her other hand. The numbness gave way to a prickle, then faded entirely.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
Picking her gloves off her lap, she folded them together before setting them aside.
Heero had disappeared outside again.
The moment he noticed that she was shivering, he had brought her to sit on the sofa, set a blanket over her lap.
Stay here, he had commanded. As if she had anywhere else to go.
She ran her fingers over the blanket once and stopped; it wasn't meant to be pleasant, just serviceable.
Not unlike its owner. The whole room felt like him, actually. Functional, deliberate, neat. Every item had a purpose, every inch accounted for.
She pulled the blanket around her shoulders, a makeshift extra layer against the cold. Padding away from her designated seat, she went to the door, pulled it open.
Heero stood there with a pile of provisions, carried in both arms. A dusting of snow clung to his hair and the trim of his parka, he looked impervious to the cold. And very much surprised to see her.
His eyes landed on her, the soft loop of her scarf against her chest, her open coat. Her ungloved hands.
He frowned slightly, gaze flicking towards the couch, where she had left her gloves.
She gave a small shrug. If he wouldn't let her do the heavy lifting, the least she could do was to help open the door.