Hey, guys! A little birdy by the name of jojoDo gave me an interesting idea for a fic that I wasn't quite sold on, but then I thought about it a bit and decided to give it a go... but with my signature illyrilex spin, of course. Anyway, you know the deal: all characters are property of SNK, though they should just give me creative control of a certain someone. Anyway, this was fun. I'll probably make corrections as I spot them, so if there are any outstanding typos, rest assured - I'll find them.
Onward~
An abnormally busy Friday night at the bar called Illusion brought what seemed like the entire city of Southtown to the popular hangout: People were literally everywhere, filling the small building almost to its capacity, the din of their jovial conversations drowning out the music as they all ordered as many drinks as humanly possible in what had to have been an attempt to get as hammered as humanly possible. For the establishment's owner, a woman known as King, the extra business was a welcome distraction from the turmoil that had been brewing inside of her head for days. She didn't fully understand why she was being bombarded with thoughts about the trauma she had endured months before; she had come so far, made so much progress… and, yet, she abruptly found herself at least six steps back. Despite wanting nothing more than to go home to her cat so she could try to figure out what, exactly, was making her actively think about such awful things again, King mixed drinks in her usual fashion, awing those who watched with her speed and efficiency while doing her best to make small talk with the patrons - not because she was feeling particularly friendly, but because she selfishly hoped they would leave good tips.
"Here you go."
King slid an Old Fashioned to a very dapper man across the counter; he thanked her and excused himself, but not before placing some extra cash down in front of her. With a small smile King pocketed the money and turned away to help the next patron.
"What can I get you?" She asked politely.
"Can I get four mojitos?"
King briefly pressed her lips together and very seriously considered saying she was out of mint but thought better of it: Business was business, and it was her job to make sure the customer had a pleasant experience, regardless of her feelings about preparing certain beverages, or life in general. She flashed a relatively convincing smile and nodded before turning away to gather her ingredients. Just as she grabbed the limes her good friend, the impossibly beautiful Mai Shiranui, bounded through the crowd and over to the counter, a brilliant smile on her face.
"Kingy," she exclaimed with glee as she lowered herself onto a nearby stool.
"Give me a minute," King called as she continued to prepare the drinks.
After some hellish muddling, mixing, and shaking, King handed off the cocktails and furrowed her brow as she approached her friend. Mai, as always, looked amazing: Perfect hair, perfect skin, immaculate outfit. It was a rather stark contrast to King, who, while very pretty, had the appearance of someone who simply threw herself together with very little thought. In fact, she had been so preoccupied with her brooding that she hadn't even bothered to run a brush through her hair before leaving for work. (Somehow, the short locks had settled down during the course of the evening into something that was only slightly disheveled.)
"Hey," Mai greeted King. She gestured vaguely toward her attire.
"Hey. I didn't feel like dressing up tonight," King explained while wiping her hands on her faded jeans.
"I can see that…"
Mai carefully looked King up and down, her expression a little worried. King started to feel uncomfortable under her friend's gaze. She adjusted the sleeves of her wrinkled baseball shirt, perturbed.
"Yes…?"
"Those bags under your eyes. Are you sleeping alright?"
King made a face; the truth was she hadn't been sleeping alright by any stretch of the imagination. She had been waking up at all hours, panicked and full of self-hatred - even on the nights she used medication to aid her slumber.
"Oh, Kingy," Mai sighed. "You're thinking about it again."
"I… yeah… A little." King faltered. She took a deep, steadying breath. "It's fine. I'm fine."
With blinding speed, Mai pulled one of her signature wooden folding fans out of nowhere and whacked King on the top her head with it.
"Hey!?"
"That's for saying you're fine when it's obvious that you're not!"
"I promise I'll be okay. This is just…" King trailed off.
"This is not 'just' anything. It's -"
"What am I making for you?"
"...Painkiller," Mai answered, a little bothered by the abrupt change of subject.
King turned away and put the concoction together as quickly as she could, fully aware that Mai was scrutinizing her every move. She garnished the drink with a pineapple wedge and handed it over before shifting her attention back to the numerous customers who were waiting to place orders. After what felt like an eternity of nonstop mixing there was finally a lull in the action as business started to die down.
"I'm taking my break," King yelled to her employees before returning to Mai, who had long since finished her drink.
"Welcome back."
"Thanks."
"Want the pineapple?" Mai slid her empty glass toward King.
"Sure..."
King took the fruit; she stared at it absently as she rested her elbows on the counter.
"Wanna talk about it?" Mai asked.
"Not really..." King trailed off as she started eating.
"It might help?"
"Doubtful."
"Just a little?"
King sighed; she tossed the remnants of her food in the trash and hung her head, unable to think of what to say. On one hand, she had resolved to be more honest with her friends when things got bad; on the other, she didn't want to ruin Mai's night with her troubles, or fall further down the proverbial rabbit hole by vocalizing it. She swallowed hard... and stayed silent.
"That's it," Mai said as she whipped out her phone. "I'm calling Mary!"
"What?!" King's head snapped up. "NO!"
King lunged across the counter in a bid to snatch the device out of Mai's hand; she nearly knocked the wind out of herself as her midsection smashed against the edge of the hard surface.
"Do not call her!"
"Why not, Kingy?! She -"
"Don't!"
King made another grab for the phone: she successfully wrapped a hand around Mai's wrist, her feet almost completely off of the floor as her upper body rested against the bar. She used her other hand to attempt to pry her friend's fingers off of the gadget.
"She needs to know," Mai grunted. She rose from the stool to try to gain more leverage, which resulted in King awkwardly sliding forward. This caught the attention of the clientele: some gasped while others laughed at the childish scene.
"People are staring," King growled as she worked to release the device from Mai's grasp.
"I'm used to it," Mai retorted while she took a quick glance around the room. She stopped struggling but kept her grip on the phone firmly in place.
"Hey, isn't that Boxer Babe?" She asked.
"Huh?"
King glanced toward the entrance of the building: The woman in question was well over six-feet tall in her heels, with short, bright red hair that hung around her face, and dark eyes that could probably pierce souls. "Boxer Babe," indeed.
"Vanessa?" King breathed incredulously as she let go of Mai.
"Doesn't she usually hang out at Pao Pao?"
"I think so, yeah…"
The boxer named Vanessa began to cross the room. King watched her, mesmerized, from her place on the counter, unable to remember the last time the two had seen each other. What had they even talked about? It probably wasn't anything particularly memorable; although Vanessa wasn't exactly a stranger, she wasn't exactly a friend, either. She was just… hot. At that moment, King felt light pressure on her chin as it was pushed up so that her lips touched.
"Careful, Kingy," Mai told her, "You might start catching flies."
Vanessa approached the bar, seemingly in slow motion. The cropped tank top she wore under her black denim jacket accentuated her curves so perfectly it almost hurt. Hyper aware of her own appearance, King quickly scrambled to stand upright; she tugged at the hem of her shirt before running a hand through her hair. For some reason, the song Cherry Pie started playing in her head.
"Oh my god," Mai laughed while accessing her camera app. She snapped a photo of King, peered down at it, and laughed some more.
"Delete that," King commanded without even looking at her.
"No way! Oh! Here she comes!"
And then Vanessa was standing next to Mai, her face friendly.
"Hey, you two! Long time no see!"
"I know, right?!" Mai squealed. She enthusiastically embraced the newcomer before ushering her to a stool. "Sit, sit!"
Vanessa did as she was told. She tilted her head as she fixed her eyes on King.
"I didn't know you worked here?"
"I own the place," King answered, doing her best to come across as herself (whatever that was anymore).
"You do? That's awesome!" Vanessa briefly paused as she removed her jacket. "Aren't you a little young, though? How did you…?"
"I was already working here and the owner wanted to sell. I had some extra money saved up, so... I bought it."
"Very cool!"
King nodded a little too enthusiastically while she willed herself to keep her eyes fixed on Vanessa's face - and not the cleavage that was peeking out of her shirt.
"Kingy, why don't you fix your guest one of your special drinks?"
"R-right." King blinked a few times. "How rude of me. What can I get you?"
"I need a beer," Vanessa replied. "Something strong."
"I have an imperial stout on tap that's around twelve percent by volume. Will that do?"
"Bring it!"
As King grabbed a glass and approached the beer faucet she pressed her lips together, somewhat perplexed; she had always been a little enamored by Vanessa: she was gorgeous, and affable, and a great fighter, definitely able to hold her own (which was really hot), but she was also married. Very, very married. She even had a kid. King took a deep breath and squared her shoulders while she poured the beer; she needed to squash the attraction, and quickly. Vanessa was just an acquaintance. A married acquaintance who wouldn't want anything to do with an irreparably damaged tart anyway.
"Here," King said as she placed the drink down.
"Oh, thanks!"
King watched carefully as Vanessa took the beer and began chugging it. There was something in her posture and in the way she was gulping the liquid down that instantly told her that this woman had had a rough day.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to get fucked up," she commented.
"It's been… a day," Vanessa replied. "A week, really."
"Aww..." Mai frowned. "That doesn't sound very good. You can tell us about it if you want."
"I wouldn't want to bore you."
"You could never be boring," King blurted out. She instantly regretted making such a dopey comment.
Vanessa let out a hollow laugh.
"You have no idea."
There was silence among the trio as Vanessa drank more. King didn't know why, but she found herself staring at the other woman's hands: Long fingers (did she play piano, too?), short nails (don't go there...), and a thin, pale line where her wedding ring should have been. King squinted at the bare finger as she started to add everything up: strong beer plus somewhat defeated body language plus missing jewelry had to equal marital problems. Before King could say or do anything, Mai seized Vanessa's left hand; she held it up in front of her face so she could get a better look at it.
"Are you getting a divorce?!"
King nearly choked on her own spit, flabbergasted that Mai had asked such a blunt, invasive question.
"I am so sorry," King started. "Sometimes Mai just doesn't -"
"No, no, it's fine," Vanessa interrupted, her tone light. "We're not divorcing - we just decided to take a break."
"Oh, no." Mai instantly deflated.
"It's okay, really," Vanessa went on. "It's not ideal, but it's not all bad."
"It's not?"
"Nah. It's been forever since I've had a night out to myself, and running into the two of you is a nice surprise. This beer is delicious, by the way. Can I have another one?"
King nodded, a little envious of Vanessa's ability to look on the bright side of things. She took the now empty glass and headed back to the beer faucet so she could pour a refill.
"I don't think I've ever seen you in women's clothing," Vanessa remarked casually. Her eyes scanned King, thoughtful.
"Oh, Kingy has all kinds of clothes you wouldn't expect her to own," Mai spoke up. "High-heeled boots, and dresses, and she used to have this really cute black skirt that really showed off her le -"
King made a loud, somewhat bizarre noise that cut across Mai at the mention of the cursed attire, which was no longer part of her wardrobe. The "cute" article of clothing had been reduced to nothing more than a piece of soiled evidence that was probably still sitting in a plastic bag somewhere within the walls of the Southtown PD building. She swallowed hard as she stifled an almost overwhelming urge to vomit.
"I bet you have great legs..."
Vanessa's comment immediately brought King back from the brink of a stream-of-consciousness-rape-trauma-fuckery-mini-breakdown. There was something about it, as well as the overall tone, that caught her completely off guard, which caused her to overfill the glass she was holding: Big Bad Baptist washed over her hand and noisily spilled all over the floor. She cursed as she carefully placed the overflowing beer down so she could reach for a roll of paper towels.
"Kingy?!"
"It's okay," King answered as she stooped to wipe up the mess. "I'm fine."
She glanced over her shoulder, first at a clearly horrified Mai, who mouthed the phrase, "I'm so sorry," and then at Vanessa, who was staring right at her, lips curved upward in an amused smile. King turned away, a little mystified. Why was she looking at her like that? She stretched her arm to reach a few errant drops of beer that had landed off to the side… and was struck by the realization that her underwear was hanging out of the back of her jeans, completely visible to anyone who peered over the counter - especially to a certain redhead who just so happened to be sitting at a prime viewing angle. She flushed at the thought of Vanessa taking notice of her undergarments. Which pair was she even wearing, anyway? She had gotten dressed in a haze: she knew her bra was black (and probably totally visible through her thin shirt…) but what the hell panties did she have on? Had she put on the simple burgundy and black hipsters? The grey ones? No… it was the absurd tacosaurus print. King slowly stood up and very subtly adjusted her waistband before pouring a new glass of beer.
"Her legs are great." Mai resumed the conversation. "Better than mine, even."
"I bet they are. You'll have to show me one of these days," Vanessa told King with a wink.
King briefly froze before she came to her senses and handed the drink over. Why did she… ? What did she mean by that?
"Here," Mai started scrolling through her phone, "I have a picture of her in shorts, when we went to Dream a while back. Hang on - let me find it."
"What picture?" King quirked a brow.
"This one."
Mai held up a photo of an absolutely drenched King, who was clad in a v-neck tee and denim shorts: her arms were crossed over her chest and her lips were pressed together in a thin line. It wasn't the most flattering photograph, but her bare legs were visible, which was really all that mattered.
"Wow. You're so..." Vanessa's dark eyes flitted from the screen to King. "Wet."
King's face flushed a deep scarlet as her mind briefly visited an incredibly dirty place, because, evidently, she was a thirteen-year old boy. She didn't know why she even went there; it was an innocent statement that had nothing to do with anything remotely up that alley. She parted her lips to say something but found herself speechless as the suggestive lyrics to Cherry Pie started swirling through her mind again. She spun on her heel, grabbed a bottle of Shiraz from the wine cooler, and poured herself a huge glass.
"Kingy has the worst luck on water rides," Mai laughed.
"Worst luck or not, those are some nice legs!" Vanessa's cadence was almost dreamy. "They're so toned! And they look really smooth, too! I'm jealous - mine are all skinny and pale."
"I don't think I've ever seen your legs," King replied.
"You haven't."
"We'll have to fix that."
Mai stifled a giggle while King grimaced. Did she really just say that? She fully expected Vanessa to punch her dead in the face, but, instead, she stood up and stretched her arms over her head.
"You know what? This stuff goes straight through me. Where's the bathroom?"
"Down that way, to the right," King answered.
"Thanks!"
The second Vanessa was no longer within earshot Mai leaned across the counter. She grabbed King and pulled her close.
"When did you get it so bad for her?!"
"Is it… I mean… Is it obvious?"
"YES! But It doesn't matter! She's giving off major vibes!"
"You're imagining things."
"She's been checking you out this whole time!"
"You're definitely imagining things."
"Kingy. Do not doubt my expertise in these matters. She's obviously sending you signals!"
King sipped her wine while considering what Mai was telling her. Maybe she was right? Maybe Vanessa was trying to get her attention for some reason. What would be the point, though? Yes, King was very attracted to her, but she wasn't in any sort of position to act on it. She was full of way too much chaos : too many thoughts bounced around in her head, some a little weirder than others.
"What are you thinking?" Mai was somewhere between curious and apprehensive.
"If I wasn't such a broken mess of a person I would probably want to sit on her face," King responded, a little surprised at herself for thinking something like that, let alone saying it.
"You should totally sit on her face!"
"W-what?!"
"From the looks of it, she wants you to! This could be your chance!"
"My chance to what?!"
"To let her see those legs of yours up close!"
"Holy shit, Mai," King gasped, her face an almost unsettling shade of bright pink, "I can't just - I'm not - Even if I hadn't been - I'm just not into the idea of randomly going home with someone! A married someone at that! I'm not that type of person!"
Mai hit King upside the head with a fan.
"OW! What the hell?!"
"They're taking a break!"
"So?!"
"So!? You said -"
"I said if I wasn't a broken mess!"
"It still counts!"
King hastily downed what was left of her wine in one gulp, embarrassed by where the conversation had ultimately gone, but also a little bothered.
"You know, I feel like you and Mary are a little too invested in whether or not I ever get laid again."
"That's not it, Kingy. We just want you to -"
"What? Feel better?" King leaned toward Mai and lowered her voice. "I was raped! Consensual sex with somebody isn't going to act as some magic cure-all for… for this! And, damn it, I can have dirty thoughts without wanting to be touched!"
"But what about that thing with Sally? I thought you said -"
"That was… it comes and goes."
The two fell silent while King stared into her empty glass.
"Kingy, listen to me," Mai started, " You are smart, and beautiful, and strong, and no one is trying to make you do anything you don't want to, or trying to upset you, but you at least owe it to yourself to maybe get to know her a little better! Especially since she's so interested in you! Now, do me a favour and have some more wine -"
"On it," King cut in as she poured a second glass.
"- and just… mellow out! Be the bi queen that you are and maybe get her number! And then, when you're ready -"
"Please don't say it."
"- sit on her face!"
"Ooh! Sit on whose face?"
King and Mai both jumped at the sound of Vanessa's voice. How the fuck did King not notice her?! But, more importantly… how much of the conversation did she hear?!
"Andy!" Mai practically shouted. "Just talking about what I'm going to do to my Andy later!"
"Uh-huh…"
Vanessa smirked while she lowered herself onto her stool.
"Mai is… very… open," King said weakly. She felt like she was about to die from sheer discomposure.
"That's good! Being open and honest is so important! Especially when it comes to relationships," Vanessa exclaimed.
"So important," Mai agreed. She shot King a mischievous grin as she stood up. "Speaking of relationships, I should go. Some face sitting needs to happen."
As King brought her wine glass up to her lips she shifted her grip on the stem so she could very subtly hold up her middle finger. Mai completely ignored the gesture; she turned her attention to Vanessa, and the two exchanged pleasantries (and phone numbers) while King continued to drink, thankful that her break would be over soon. The quicker she could get back to work, the quicker she could keep herself from thinking about rape, or legs, or swingin' in the living room or swingin' in the kitchen, or bathroom or -
"Ganbatte, Kingy!"
Mai's cheerful exclamation brought King out of her reverie. She blinked a couple of times before holding her hand up in a lackadaisical wave, all the while making a mental note to go hard at their next sparring session. Nevertheless, it was just her and Vanessa now. She tried to tell herself that it was no big deal since they knew each other, but she was a different person when they met: outgoing and confident. Now, though… now she was self-deprecating and acerbic; unsure of herself. Sooner or later, Vanessa would notice the shift in her personality, and when she did…
"So, what time do you get off?"
"G-get off?"
Vanessa's question sent King to yet another less-than wholesome place. She hastily took a gulp of wine while wondering what the hell was wrong with her.
"Yeah," Vanessa laughed. "Your shift - when does it end?"
"Oh. In about an hour."
"Do you mind if I wait around? I'm not ready to go home yet, and I'd really like to catch up with you."
"There's really not... much… going on with me."
Lies...
"I beg to differ," Vanessa asserted while she rested her hands on her chin. She leaned forward slightly, and King had to do everything in her power to keep her eyes from straying too far south.
"Anyway, maybe we can grab some food when you're done. What do you say?"
King swallowed hard; she had to play it cool - like the "old" her would. She downed the rest of her wine before offering a small smile.
"Sure…!"
Some notes because of course:
* There's a super subtle Mad Men reference in this chapter. If you can find it, awesome. You'll win... absolutely nothing.
* King hates making mojitos, as many bartenders do.
* Cherry Pie is a song by the hair band Warrant that came out in 1990 if I remember right. Anyway, look up the lyrics.
* It was pure coincidence that RobertCop and I had the same idea as to how King came to own Illusion at the tender age of twenty-four.
* The skirt Mai mentions is - obviously - directly related to Much Like Suffocating.
* Big Bad Baptist is an imperial stout that's around 12.7% alcohol by volume.
* Google "tacosaurus underwear." You won't be sorry.
* Ganbatte = good luck
