To Your Death
Chapter One
By Corruption Rift
dark_mew@edsamail.com.ph
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Guilty Gear X does not belong to me in any way...although I'd like them to be. Copyright Sammy 2002.
Warning: An alternate reality fic with a bit of lemon. Well, not in this chapter, but you just wait. Anyway, A fic dedicated to my only inspirations - Miko-chan and my coffee girl.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Quote: "I am not a shark, it is not a fin, and I do not scare off children when I go swimming, you cretin." -Ren (charisma)
Death is a funny thing. It takes away what you want most to stay - in the most horrific way possible. There's no delaying it, and there's no stopping it. It is the most inevitable event in one's life. Whatever you make of it, how much you want it not to happen, whether you like it or not....
I twist inside the bedsheets, trying to get more comfortable - Testament's shoulder was digging into my back - his mouth opens in a half-groan, half-yawn as the bedsprings squeak with my movements...I slow down, and snuggle closer to him, resting my cheek on his shoulder and draping my arm across his chest.
What if death had a face?
What if death had a face we could see - a voice we could hear - a body we could touch? What if death was a person, one we could talk to? And when our time is finally up, what if we could actually see death walk up to us to take us from the ones we really love?
My gaze falls onto the mirror at the bedstand, and on it I see a little girl's face, framed by dark blue hair - gazing back at me with half-asleep eyes, as if to shyly accuse me of some sullying thought...
Then death would have my face. My whole body. Me.
The red neon numbers on the alarm clock balefully stares at me, the only light in the otherwise pitch-dark room. Two o' clock a.m. Only five hours left before my shift begins, and I still can't fall asleep.
A rustle in the bedsheets. "You're still awake."
"Gomen na sai." I say softly, careful not to disrupt the sleepy silence of the dark room.
"You know, you're unbelievable." His hand rises up to ruffle my hair. "I mean, you wore *me* out. And you're not even tired."
"Believe me, I am." I snuggle up closer to him, hearing his heartbeat as I rest my head on his chest. "Do you know that in some states, what we actually did tonight could count as pedophilia?"
A gentle, sharp rising as he snorts softly. "You were the one who literally dragged me from the car to the bed, if my memory serves me right."
"Non-consensual sex, then."
"I tried to stop you."
"Sex with a minor?"
"You turn eighteen next week."
Silence. Then..
"But you liked it."
"Of course I did." A pause. "Did you?"
"You know what my answer is to *that* question," I prop myself up on one elbow, and tilting forward, gave him a peck on the cheek.
Another sigh, and this time it's deep enough to let me know that something's bothering him.
"Come on. Surely I didn't wear you out *that* much...did I?" I ask playfully, nuzzling his neck.
He chuckles. "Oh, that you did, Detective Chief Inspector...that you did." One supple, firm hand goes up to his face, brushes away some recalcitrant bangs blocking his eyes, and then moves to settle at his side, a motion both ethereal and graceful.
"Then what's eating you?" I ruffle his hair now, letting the black thick mass of strands filter through my fingers.
Testament grimaced. "Ugh. Bad choice of words there. Remember the Subway case?"
A shudder involuntarily creeps up my spine as the memory surfaces. "You're right. Yuck. I still get nightmares from that one."
The Subway case...as it is so aptly named...was a genocide attempt by ingestion. Apparently one of the rabid level 4 Gears had broken out of its cell and escaped into a subway station a few blocks from its home - where it mutilated and ingested thirty civilians, all of them children. The whole place was drenched with blood by the time we got there. The gear, seeing us, tried to escape, but reinforcements came through and blocked off all routes - like a cornered animal, it attacked, almost taking off Testament's arm as it clawed at him...I kicked the gear off him before it could, and shot it in the head with a sniper rifle.
"Let me...rephrase. What's bothering my Testament?" I ask again, pinching his cheek.
His face is hesitant. "I..don't know. Something...something's not the way it should be...I can't quite place it."
I lean back, hoisting myself up, a smile on my lips. "You're in bed with the youngest and prettiest Detective Chief Inspector of the NYPD. What could be possibly wrong with this setup right here?"
"Nothing..but it'd be nice if there were two...ow."
"Don't push your luck with me, Detective." I raise the pillow warningly.
"Who's pushing whose luck?" His smile was predatory, and before I knew it, he rose from his relaxed position and dove at me, his hands tickling me at the sides, making me almost cry with laughter.
"No..stop! No more!" I protested, laughing all the time, trying to squirm away from his grasp.
"I have you now, Miss Detective," he snarls in an absolutely hilarious attempt at being a stereotypical villain.
"That's Detective Chief Inspector to you, you...scoundrel!" I manage to gasp out as he continued his assault at my ribs - then, Testament having leaned too much his weight on me, I fell backwards on the bed, taking him with me...and I found myself staring into those deep pools of black.
"Give up, my dear? For you know, your situation is hopeless..." he whispers gently, a sinister gleam in his eyes.
"Never!" I cry defiantly, playing along, half-giggling at him. "Never..."
"Then I shall make you."
With that, he lowered his face down to mine, enveloping my lips with his, subtly caressing my inner being as he did so - he was the only one who could.
"Wow..." I gasped as we broke apart. "I...I.."
"NOW do you give up?" His left eyebrow hikes up as he leers at me, ever the conniving villain.
"Oh, yes..." I rise from my position and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him to me. "Yes..."
Suddenly, unbelievably....the phone starts to ring, loud, irritatingly uniform bursts of sound that makes Testament stop.
"Um, Dizzy...the phone.."
"Curse the phone."
Riiing.
"But..it may be important."
"I told them not to call this number. Never."
Riiing.
"And maybe that's why they're calling now."
"What could be more important than my leave?"
Riiing.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." I climb off Testament's lap, plod over to the ringing contraption and pick it up.
"Hello?" I almost shout into the receiver.
"Detective Chief Inspector? Dizzy-chan?" Answers a feminine voice that was almost drowned out by the racket on her end. Probably somewhere near the subway, no doubt.
"Yes, who is this?" I reply.
"It's Jam."
"Jam?" Jam Kurandoberi was Detective Inspector, a rank below me - and my best friend. One of the two people that I really could trust, and the best cook this side of the Bronx. When we were still rookies, she was assigned to me as my partner, her being the spotter and I being the sniper. She annoyed me with her incessant talking at first - the girl was a regular chatterbox, even during stakeouts - but pretty soon I just got used to it. But now, Jam sounded like she was in no mood to talk.
"Yeah, Diz. It's me."
I quietly groan in exasperation. "Do you have any idea WHAT time it is?"
A slight pause."Two-thirty in the morning. Why?"
I slap my forehead. Jam, with all her streetwise upbringing, could be so dense sometimes.
"Gomen. I'm not disturbing you or anything..am I?"
I look at Testament longingly, who's now disinterestedly leafing through one of my case files strewn all over the floor. "Um...no, not at all... any particular reason why you called?"
Her voice somehow begins to waver. "Um...something's happened..."
"What?"
"Come and look for yourself. Two blocks near the station." She gives me the address and I hastily scribble it down on a magazine near the phone, and she makes me repeat it.
"Is Testament there?" She suddenly asks, seemingly trying to act cheerful.
"Yeah..." I look at him uncertainly. "..he is."
"Say hi to him for me. Anyway, see you in a few minutes, then." She hangs up before I do.
"What was that about?" Testament asks as I change out of my pajamas and into my normal clothes.
"Jam. Something..apparently happened at 3rd street..." I roll my eyes as I recount the conversation in my head. "She didn't say what, exactly."
"And where are you going?"
I look at him strangely as I pull on my jeans. "To 3rd street...where else?"
"But I thought you were on leave." He pulls on his pants, black shirt and coat with uncanny precision...every movement slow and deliberate. He notices me studying him at the corner of my eye, and he smiles.
"Was on leave." I correct him, clipping my shoulder holster on which carries my Magnum .44, and shrug into my trenchcoat. "Besides, what will the department do without me?"
"I don't know....I mean, Kiske's subbing for you, isn't he?" He comes up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist.
"Right. And I'm not going to let HIM ruin my department." I smile as he slowly kisses my neck. "Bastard's not even taking coffee breaks...he's going to replace me someday...."
I gasp as he lightly nips my skin, small abrupt shivers down my spine. "Mmm...somehow, I can't picture that."
"Well, I can. In fact I'm betting....my...bottom dollar....that he's going to get Chief of Police next year..." I slightly groan as his hands find their way into my jacket.
"Testament?"
"Mmm?"
"I thought you were worn out..." I smile as I crane my neck to look at him.
"Was worn out." He dips forward and kisses me on the lips, a butterfly touch.
"Well, save it for later...we have to..." He kisses me again, this time deeper, his tounge caressing mine - I moan into it as one of his hands cup my chest. "...to....ah, hell. Crime scene can wait." I turn around and throw my arms around his neck as he lifts me toward the bed.
This is my life. I admit it's not very exciting - but Testament's always here for me when I need him, which was quite a few times, judging as how my taking over the NYPD had shook the entire dep...I mean, who'd ever thought a seventeen-year old girl would actually become DCI one day? Nobody. Not even me. Nope, not this little sniper girl from Japan whom everybody thought was so sweet and so innocent. But Testament knew. The bastard always had this sixth sense about things....he knew right from the start that I was about to become the youngest ever DCI to hit the streets...but did he know that what was about to happen in the next few days would utterly change us forever?
Guess not.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
A experimental fic in progress - to deviate from my regular fanfic subs....well, anyway, review if you like.
Crpt.Rft/KeroChan
Chapter One
By Corruption Rift
dark_mew@edsamail.com.ph
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Guilty Gear X does not belong to me in any way...although I'd like them to be. Copyright Sammy 2002.
Warning: An alternate reality fic with a bit of lemon. Well, not in this chapter, but you just wait. Anyway, A fic dedicated to my only inspirations - Miko-chan and my coffee girl.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Quote: "I am not a shark, it is not a fin, and I do not scare off children when I go swimming, you cretin." -Ren (charisma)
Death is a funny thing. It takes away what you want most to stay - in the most horrific way possible. There's no delaying it, and there's no stopping it. It is the most inevitable event in one's life. Whatever you make of it, how much you want it not to happen, whether you like it or not....
I twist inside the bedsheets, trying to get more comfortable - Testament's shoulder was digging into my back - his mouth opens in a half-groan, half-yawn as the bedsprings squeak with my movements...I slow down, and snuggle closer to him, resting my cheek on his shoulder and draping my arm across his chest.
What if death had a face?
What if death had a face we could see - a voice we could hear - a body we could touch? What if death was a person, one we could talk to? And when our time is finally up, what if we could actually see death walk up to us to take us from the ones we really love?
My gaze falls onto the mirror at the bedstand, and on it I see a little girl's face, framed by dark blue hair - gazing back at me with half-asleep eyes, as if to shyly accuse me of some sullying thought...
Then death would have my face. My whole body. Me.
The red neon numbers on the alarm clock balefully stares at me, the only light in the otherwise pitch-dark room. Two o' clock a.m. Only five hours left before my shift begins, and I still can't fall asleep.
A rustle in the bedsheets. "You're still awake."
"Gomen na sai." I say softly, careful not to disrupt the sleepy silence of the dark room.
"You know, you're unbelievable." His hand rises up to ruffle my hair. "I mean, you wore *me* out. And you're not even tired."
"Believe me, I am." I snuggle up closer to him, hearing his heartbeat as I rest my head on his chest. "Do you know that in some states, what we actually did tonight could count as pedophilia?"
A gentle, sharp rising as he snorts softly. "You were the one who literally dragged me from the car to the bed, if my memory serves me right."
"Non-consensual sex, then."
"I tried to stop you."
"Sex with a minor?"
"You turn eighteen next week."
Silence. Then..
"But you liked it."
"Of course I did." A pause. "Did you?"
"You know what my answer is to *that* question," I prop myself up on one elbow, and tilting forward, gave him a peck on the cheek.
Another sigh, and this time it's deep enough to let me know that something's bothering him.
"Come on. Surely I didn't wear you out *that* much...did I?" I ask playfully, nuzzling his neck.
He chuckles. "Oh, that you did, Detective Chief Inspector...that you did." One supple, firm hand goes up to his face, brushes away some recalcitrant bangs blocking his eyes, and then moves to settle at his side, a motion both ethereal and graceful.
"Then what's eating you?" I ruffle his hair now, letting the black thick mass of strands filter through my fingers.
Testament grimaced. "Ugh. Bad choice of words there. Remember the Subway case?"
A shudder involuntarily creeps up my spine as the memory surfaces. "You're right. Yuck. I still get nightmares from that one."
The Subway case...as it is so aptly named...was a genocide attempt by ingestion. Apparently one of the rabid level 4 Gears had broken out of its cell and escaped into a subway station a few blocks from its home - where it mutilated and ingested thirty civilians, all of them children. The whole place was drenched with blood by the time we got there. The gear, seeing us, tried to escape, but reinforcements came through and blocked off all routes - like a cornered animal, it attacked, almost taking off Testament's arm as it clawed at him...I kicked the gear off him before it could, and shot it in the head with a sniper rifle.
"Let me...rephrase. What's bothering my Testament?" I ask again, pinching his cheek.
His face is hesitant. "I..don't know. Something...something's not the way it should be...I can't quite place it."
I lean back, hoisting myself up, a smile on my lips. "You're in bed with the youngest and prettiest Detective Chief Inspector of the NYPD. What could be possibly wrong with this setup right here?"
"Nothing..but it'd be nice if there were two...ow."
"Don't push your luck with me, Detective." I raise the pillow warningly.
"Who's pushing whose luck?" His smile was predatory, and before I knew it, he rose from his relaxed position and dove at me, his hands tickling me at the sides, making me almost cry with laughter.
"No..stop! No more!" I protested, laughing all the time, trying to squirm away from his grasp.
"I have you now, Miss Detective," he snarls in an absolutely hilarious attempt at being a stereotypical villain.
"That's Detective Chief Inspector to you, you...scoundrel!" I manage to gasp out as he continued his assault at my ribs - then, Testament having leaned too much his weight on me, I fell backwards on the bed, taking him with me...and I found myself staring into those deep pools of black.
"Give up, my dear? For you know, your situation is hopeless..." he whispers gently, a sinister gleam in his eyes.
"Never!" I cry defiantly, playing along, half-giggling at him. "Never..."
"Then I shall make you."
With that, he lowered his face down to mine, enveloping my lips with his, subtly caressing my inner being as he did so - he was the only one who could.
"Wow..." I gasped as we broke apart. "I...I.."
"NOW do you give up?" His left eyebrow hikes up as he leers at me, ever the conniving villain.
"Oh, yes..." I rise from my position and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him to me. "Yes..."
Suddenly, unbelievably....the phone starts to ring, loud, irritatingly uniform bursts of sound that makes Testament stop.
"Um, Dizzy...the phone.."
"Curse the phone."
Riiing.
"But..it may be important."
"I told them not to call this number. Never."
Riiing.
"And maybe that's why they're calling now."
"What could be more important than my leave?"
Riiing.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." I climb off Testament's lap, plod over to the ringing contraption and pick it up.
"Hello?" I almost shout into the receiver.
"Detective Chief Inspector? Dizzy-chan?" Answers a feminine voice that was almost drowned out by the racket on her end. Probably somewhere near the subway, no doubt.
"Yes, who is this?" I reply.
"It's Jam."
"Jam?" Jam Kurandoberi was Detective Inspector, a rank below me - and my best friend. One of the two people that I really could trust, and the best cook this side of the Bronx. When we were still rookies, she was assigned to me as my partner, her being the spotter and I being the sniper. She annoyed me with her incessant talking at first - the girl was a regular chatterbox, even during stakeouts - but pretty soon I just got used to it. But now, Jam sounded like she was in no mood to talk.
"Yeah, Diz. It's me."
I quietly groan in exasperation. "Do you have any idea WHAT time it is?"
A slight pause."Two-thirty in the morning. Why?"
I slap my forehead. Jam, with all her streetwise upbringing, could be so dense sometimes.
"Gomen. I'm not disturbing you or anything..am I?"
I look at Testament longingly, who's now disinterestedly leafing through one of my case files strewn all over the floor. "Um...no, not at all... any particular reason why you called?"
Her voice somehow begins to waver. "Um...something's happened..."
"What?"
"Come and look for yourself. Two blocks near the station." She gives me the address and I hastily scribble it down on a magazine near the phone, and she makes me repeat it.
"Is Testament there?" She suddenly asks, seemingly trying to act cheerful.
"Yeah..." I look at him uncertainly. "..he is."
"Say hi to him for me. Anyway, see you in a few minutes, then." She hangs up before I do.
"What was that about?" Testament asks as I change out of my pajamas and into my normal clothes.
"Jam. Something..apparently happened at 3rd street..." I roll my eyes as I recount the conversation in my head. "She didn't say what, exactly."
"And where are you going?"
I look at him strangely as I pull on my jeans. "To 3rd street...where else?"
"But I thought you were on leave." He pulls on his pants, black shirt and coat with uncanny precision...every movement slow and deliberate. He notices me studying him at the corner of my eye, and he smiles.
"Was on leave." I correct him, clipping my shoulder holster on which carries my Magnum .44, and shrug into my trenchcoat. "Besides, what will the department do without me?"
"I don't know....I mean, Kiske's subbing for you, isn't he?" He comes up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist.
"Right. And I'm not going to let HIM ruin my department." I smile as he slowly kisses my neck. "Bastard's not even taking coffee breaks...he's going to replace me someday...."
I gasp as he lightly nips my skin, small abrupt shivers down my spine. "Mmm...somehow, I can't picture that."
"Well, I can. In fact I'm betting....my...bottom dollar....that he's going to get Chief of Police next year..." I slightly groan as his hands find their way into my jacket.
"Testament?"
"Mmm?"
"I thought you were worn out..." I smile as I crane my neck to look at him.
"Was worn out." He dips forward and kisses me on the lips, a butterfly touch.
"Well, save it for later...we have to..." He kisses me again, this time deeper, his tounge caressing mine - I moan into it as one of his hands cup my chest. "...to....ah, hell. Crime scene can wait." I turn around and throw my arms around his neck as he lifts me toward the bed.
This is my life. I admit it's not very exciting - but Testament's always here for me when I need him, which was quite a few times, judging as how my taking over the NYPD had shook the entire dep...I mean, who'd ever thought a seventeen-year old girl would actually become DCI one day? Nobody. Not even me. Nope, not this little sniper girl from Japan whom everybody thought was so sweet and so innocent. But Testament knew. The bastard always had this sixth sense about things....he knew right from the start that I was about to become the youngest ever DCI to hit the streets...but did he know that what was about to happen in the next few days would utterly change us forever?
Guess not.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
A experimental fic in progress - to deviate from my regular fanfic subs....well, anyway, review if you like.
Crpt.Rft/KeroChan