It was almost on top of her. Wind tore through the trees, the sky a cacophony of piercing light and tremulous darkness. She sat alone in his chair, hers now, watching the storm advance through the open curtains of a door made entirely of glass.

'If Meia were here', Une thought with the hint of a sad smile, 'she would have long since come in and somehow curled up next to me. Not because Mariemeia was scared, as the child would state fiercely, eyes daring a challenge. Only because she valued the company.'

It strange when Une stopped to think about it, her arms wrapped around his daughter as his had once held her in this house, hers now. Une valued the company of his daughter as much, if not more than the child valued hers. They would often sit together into wee hours of the morning listening to the rain, eventually searching the kitchen for a hot drink before finally retiring. 

But this week, Meia had earnestly told Une that she had finally earned the priveledge of accompanying Wu-Fei on one of his martial arts retreats. The friendship/apprentice relationship between Wu-Fei and Mariemeia had shocked Une at first but they seemed to understand each other. Still, for Meia to accompany him on one of his personal retreats was an achievement beyond mere friendship. Wu-Fei never gave anything that wasn't earned, and 'Meia had shone with quiet pride as Une helped the excited girl pack her gear.

So instead, Une watched the storm alone.

She'd always loved storms. They wreaked havoc at random and this destruction combined with indifference strangely comforted her. Storms had never cared that she wasn't the perfect daughter that her father demanded, that her mother desperately needed. They didn't care about her memories. The thundering of the heavens overwhelmed the turmoil in her mind and the rain drowned out her sorrow. Storms still brought her peace.

Eventually though the rain steadied, not stopping, instead beating a staccato rhythm on the ground. The wind stilled to a gentle breeze; the thunder faded off into the distance.

It was then she heard something pounding at her door.

***

Une didn't know how long the person had been there, nor could she imagine who would drop by at this time of night without having the courtesy to call. Peeking through the peephole, she caught the faint outline of a bedraggled, underdressed figure half standing, half leaning against the wall next to the door. Definitely not a Preventer. They usually tried to arrive with some spit and polish, except of course for Maxwell who couldn't manage to make himself appear organized for anything.

Une paused a moment to take out and load the gun she kept in the front cabinet.

She didn't like surprises. While there had been a few attempts on Mariemiea's life when they had first come to live here, the attacks had dwindled to nothing in the last couple of years. Still, Une wasn't head of the Preventer Organization because she was stupid. The gun would distract whoever it was long enough for her to incapacitate them and take their weapon.

Of course, she merely had to leave the door closed, sit tight, activate the security system and she would have aid crashing through in minutes. This was what Une would have insisted on from anyone else under her protection. In fact, it was one of her more popular lectures; "I know you changed history in the war, but that's no reason to feel the need to personally take out every two bit nutcase that is gunning for your life. Call for backup." This was often followed by a plaintive, "Please".

Then again, Mariemeia wasn't here, and technically Une was the head Preventer on sight.  

Une threw open the door open, gun in hand. It wasn't a transformation anymore when she reverted to the behavior of combat. The bloodthirsty efficiency that had labeled her 'Ice Une' in her earlier years was as much a part of her as the saint, and something inside still reveled the rush. It had been the killer's only joy. It was also often her survival.

The figure, male, brought his hands up in a seemingly peaceful gesture but Une caught the impression of a something metal glinting from behind his fingers. Without thinking, her weight shifted and she kicked the object from his grasp. Rushing forward Une whipped the pistol across his head. She barely caught herself from following up with a crushing blow to the throat and the man collapsed inwards on himself before falling to the ground.

"What do you want?" Une asked, breathing heavily, unable to keep edge from her tone. 'Too close'

"Waire is it?" the man mumbled, agitated, his voice so heavily accented and slurred together she had trouble making out what exactly he was trying to say. He moved one hand feebly across the ground, as if looking for something.

"Excuse me?" Une was hard pressed to see where he could be carrying another weapon, as he was wearing only a thin pair of pants and a tank-top, but she had seen others hide more with less so she still watched him intently for any hostile move. In spite of his drowned rat appearance, it was apparent the man kept himself in shape.

His tone became frantic, a mishmash of barely intelligible sounds. She understood only fragments and accent notwithstanding, even the words she could figure out seemed not to make sense with each other: "temper", "store", "shun", "minutes", a slew of unrelated numbers.

Nudging him with her toe, he whimpered softly and curled in on himself. Une began to wonder if she had made a mistake. He certainly didn't seem threatening.

'I should still be calling for backup.' Her better judgment suggested.

Instead, she knelt beside him, one hand gently touching his skin. The flesh was hot, though wet, and he continued to mumble under his breath. Making a mental note to find the object he'd been holding, she shifted her body beneath his shoulders and proceeded to half carry, half drag him into the house.

'I guess I did get to be head of the Preventers by being stupid,' Une thought, dropping him onto the couch. The figure groaned and then fell silent again.

'If Mariemeia were here I wouldn't be doing this.'

Une sighed. A bruise, partially obscured by gold tipped hair was beginning to purple along his temple.

She should definitely be calling for backup.

He would have tried something by now.

She should have him questioned.

But her instincts, honed through the years, advised against it.

Maybe it was just the rain. Still she didn't turn her back on him as she picked up the phone and began to dial.

***

"Hello Sally?" The phone picked up after the eighth ring and the voice on the other side was decidedly sleep fuzzed. "I'm sorry to call you at this time of night, but..."

Une paused for a moment. This wasn't actually Preventer business, and while she certainly could make it Preventer business, she didn't feel right about that. "...umm...I was calling to ask for a favor."

The surprise was evident even in Sally sleep fogged voice. She knew Mariemeia was away and Une never asked for favors for herself. Last winter Sally practically had to break into Une's office, the woman one step short of walking pneumonia, and force Une to go home, rest, and take medicine. 

"Did Meia get herself injured?"

"No. She's fine." Taking this as tacit acceptance, Une outlined the problem of the man on her couch in clear, crisp tones, hoping Sally would ignore how she had so stupidly taken matters into her own hands.

No such luck. Sally broke into what sounded like a string of curses in Chinese, winding down only after about thirty seconds. "You do realize that child still needs a mother!" she wrapped up, finally reverting back to Standard.

She wondered how Sally knew just what buttons to push. Guilt. Was she so transparent? Une was used to thinking of her own life as secondary, but she also knew Mariemeia couldn't stand to have yet another person abandon her.

"I know. It won't happen again."

"Well, alright." Sally acknowledged, hearing she had gotten her point across. "It would be best to get him out of the wet clothes and warmed up somehow. If he regains conciousness, be sure to make him drink something, preferably one of your herbal teas. And if his fever gets too high, try and bring it down with cold compresses. Do you have any sort of fever reducer in that house?"

"Just some cold medicine for Meia."

"Well, if you need to go ahead and give him some of that." Sally responded, exasperated. "It shouldn't hurt him. I'll be over in a half hour."

"Thank you Sally." She said softly as the woman hung up.