Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes and won’t claim to because I could never write a work of art like this. I also apologize ahead of time for the disgrace I will probably give this poem and hope I will be forgiven. Everything taken from the poem is in Italics, although there are a few changes, mostly when it comes to gender and names.

The Highway Woman

By Lars the Goddess

At Presenter Headquarters, the Gunma pilots were walking into Sally PO’s office to talk to her about a mission they were working on with her. She wasn’t there so they all went in and made themselves comfortable while they waited for the blond to appear. While the others placed themselves around the room, Duo flopped down into her desk chair and swiveled around to place his feet on the desk, his violet eyes studying the contents curiously.

"Hey, what’s this?" he asked the others as he leaned forward to pick up a small book.

"It looks like a diary," Quattro said, blushing when everyone looked at him funny. He couldn’t help it that he had 29 sisters. He’d seen plenty of diaries in his time, and this book definitely looked like one.

"It might be evidence for our mission, what’s in it?" Heero asked.

Duo flipped through a few pages in the book and stopped, a large smile blossoming on his face. "Uh, I don’t think this is a mission clue. I think this is Sally’s diary," he said as he eyed the pages.

"What makes you think that?" Wufei asked as he leaned against the wall by the door.

"Listen to this,’ Duo said as he began to read the entry.

AC 202 December 3^rd

Wufei has pissed me off for the last time! I quit trying to get his attention because it is now painfully obvious that he doesn’t love me. I guess he has his reasons though, having been married before to some woman named Meiran. But she’s dead now, and it’s been years. He’s young and should move on, preferably to me. As for how I came across this bit of information, I sort of found it accidentally when I was doing research the other day. Of course, this doesn’t excuse him for being so cold towards me, and so I decided to write a story dedicated to him. It’s based on this old, sad poem I read recently. In my story, I’m gonna put him in my position and make him do everything that I’d be willing to do for him in this situation.

Right, well, here it goes. I call it "The Highway Woman"

Romance was in the air and the night seemed to portray it in the world’s features. The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, and the highway woman came riding, riding, riding, the highway woman came riding up to the old inn door.

She paused before entering the inn-yard, looking intently at the cracked wood, its unfinished surface staring back at her nondescriptly. She’d a French cocked hat on her forehead and a bunch of lace at her chin. A coat of claret velvet and breeches of brown doe skin. In other words, she looked amazing although her hat continuously fell into her eyes and the lace seemed to be tickling her. Perhaps she should have pressed it before putting it on. Anyway, they, her breeches, fit with never a wrinkle showing off her shapely curves and making her irresistible to men, especially a certain one she was going to visit now. And her boots were up to the thigh because she had gone all out and wore her slut boots just for him that night.

And she rode with a jeweled twinkle, her pistol butts a-twinkle, her rapier hilt a-twinkle under the jeweled sky. She always took pride in all her weaponry and took it with her everywhere in hopes of getting the chance to try it out. She also took very good care of them, keeping each as shiny as when she first got them.

Over the cobbles she clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, and she tapped with her whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred. Damn people and their paranoia. Good thing there’s always a plan B. She whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there but the landlord’s black-eyed son, Wufei, the landlord’s son, plaiting a dark red love knot into his long black hair.

Seeing this, she could barely stay on her horse as she tried in vain to hold back her laughter. All the while Wufei was desperately trying to hid his hair from her, grumbling oaths not suitable for a landlord’s son like himself. Once the blond was sure she had gained control of the laughter that racked her body, she looked to her love who had quieted. "I didn’t know you could braid. You’ll have to do my hair one day!"

The boy blushed and looked away, letting his attention wonder to the sound of an animal outside.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked where Meiran the ostler listened. Her face was white and peaked. Her eyes were hollows of madness, her hair like mouldy hay, oops; someone did the bleaching job wrong. But she loved the landlord’s son, the landlord’s red-lipped son. Dumb as a dog she listened and she heard the robber say-

"One kiss my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize tonight, but I should be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, then look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight, I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

Wufei looked worried for a moment, but quickly hid it as she rose upright in the stirrups. She scarce could reach his hand. But he loosened his hair in the casement. Her face burnt like a brand. As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over her breast she couldn’t help but wonder what shampoo he used cause she really wanted to try it. (I’ll have to remember to ask him when I’m not mad at him. Damn does he smell good!) And she kissed its waves in the moonlight, (Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!) Then she tugged at her rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

Wufei sat in the window hours later, still watching the road his love had traveled. He expectantly searched as morning approached. She did not come in the dawning. She did not come at noon; and out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon, when the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor, a red-coat troop came marchin, marching, marching, Milliardo’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

Wufei only watched in shock, realizing the danger his love was in. They burst into the inn and made themselves comfortable with their weapons in easy reach.

There was death at every window; and hell at one dark window; for Wufei could see, through his casement, the road that she would ride. He began to panic, knowing that if she were to come it would mean her certain death. But how could he warn here, there was no chance for him to get away.

They had tied him up to attention, with many a sniggering jest. They had bound a musket beside him, with the muzzle beneath his chin! (There is was nice! Seeing that Wufei doesn’t have a breast, I had to put it under something else, but there were only two choices, his chin or something a little more personal. I guess I just had pity on all guys and decided to go the more humane way.)

"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed him on the cheeks like the old Italians do as he cringed away. Anyway, it’s not like he’s gay. He’s just a subservient to a woman. (I know what the real Wufei would say to that, "Injustice!")

Looking to the window, he heard the doomed woman say –

"Look for me by moonlight; watch for me by moonlight; I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!"

He couldn’t let this happen and formed a plan in his mind to save her from her fate. He twisted his hands behind him; but all the knots held good! He writhed his hands till his fingers were wet with sweat or blood! (I’m thinking his thoughts would be going something like this… "Man, even being the weak one in the relationship, I still have to get the woman out of trouble. Figures, and there will be no honor in it.") But there was no better plan to change to, so he continued to move his slick fingers in hopes of succeeding.

They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, till, now, on the stroke of midnight, cold, on the stroke of midnight, the tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was his! The tip of one finger touched it. He strove no more for the rest. Well, now he just had to wait, no-doubt the woman would be even more late than she already was and he’d be dead tired by the time she got there. However, he would wait just the same cause he wouldn’t’ let her get caught.

Up, he stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath his chin. He would not risk their hearing; he would not strive again; for the road lay bare in the moonlight; blank and bare in the moonlight; and the blood of his veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to his love’s refrain. He continued to strain his ears, hoping that if only could hear before the soldiers, he could save her from his fate.

Then, there it was, freezing his heart cold. Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear; tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill. The highway woman came riding, riding, riding, the red-coats looked to their priming! He stood up, straight and still. Well, if he was gonna go, he was gonna go proud. Maybe there would at least be some justice in his actions.

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer she came and nearer. His face was like a light. His eyes grew wide for a moment; he drew one last deep breath, Then his finger moved in the moonlight, his musket shattered the moonlight, shattered his head in the moonlight and warned her with his death. (Oops, guess that wasn’t a great substitute. Not a very clean death, huh. Blood and brains were everywhere I bet.)

She turned and spurred to the west, she did not know he stood bowed, with his remaining bit of head o’er the musket, drenched with is own blood! Not till the dawn she heard it, and her face grew grey to hear how Wufei, the landlord’s son, the landlord’s black-eyed son, had watched for his love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Anger took control of her and she wasn’t thinking straight at all now. All she wanted was revenge, not caring that his sacrifice had been to keep her alive.

Back, she spurred like a mad woman, shouting a curse to the sky, with the white road smoking behind her and her rapier brandished high. Well, on the bright side she finally has a good excuse to use her sword.

Blood-red were the spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was her velvet coat; when they shot her down on the highway; down like a dog on the highway, and she lay in her blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at her throat. Damn it, this was not how she wanted to die, especially when that material was still tickling her. Why did she forget to take it off! However, when it’s time to die, it’s time to die. She gave a soft sigh as she finally gave into death and went to join her love. Her head fell to the side, as her eyes stared up to the sky.

Plaiting a dark red love-knot into his long black hair.

And forever shall there true love reign, death never keeping the highway woman from returning to her love.

*sigh* I always loved that poem, and even though I blew Wufei’s head up in it I still think it was romantic. I guess I have to forgive him now because I just wrote him how I want him to be, minus the whole plaiting stuff into his hair, and I’ve fallen in love with him again. Well, maybe next time he pisses me off I’ll forget about him. Damn, I gotta go, I still have to get those mission notes before the guys stop by my office.

"And that’s it. Man, Wufei, what did you do to her to make her hate you that much?" Duo asked after he had finished reading and placed the book back on the desk.

"Absolutely nothing," the Chinese boy said as he stood up in irritation. "How could she make a mockery of me like that. What an injustice!" he shouted as he shook his fist toward the innocent looking book.

"Yes, but doing absolutely nothing is what you did, Wufei," Quatre put it. "You obviously haven’t tried to show her how you feel about her at all and she’s getting sick of it. Haven’t you noticed how she acts around you, it’s not hard to see that she’s in love."

"I guess you’re right," he said, dejectedly from being proven wrong. Just as he was answering, Sally walked into the room and cheerily greeted the guys.

"Sorry to keep all of you waiting, had to get something to show all of you," she said as she shooed Duo out of her chair. Sitting down, she noticed the book on the desk had been moved and looked up in alarm. "You didn’t read this, did you?" she asked them worriedly.

"No," they all answered in unison as she quickly swiped it into a drawer. They didn’t want to find out she had a disturbing story about them in there.

She gave them a disbelieving stare.

"Duo kicked it with his foot when he was sitting there," Heero added, adding to her confidence that they were telling the truth.

"Alright, I believe you," she said. "Now, about the mission."

"Actually, the four of us have somewhere to be right now, you sort of took longer than we thought to get back. I’m sure Wufei would love to stay and hear it all to relay to us later," Duo interrupted as he gave the Chinese pilot a meaningful look.

He nodded his approval, seeming to decide that it was about time he did something about his feelings for Sally. She shrugged, "Fine, go on then."

The four boys exited the room to the sound of her voice, "Wufei, why don’t you sit by me so it will be easier to show you this."