A/N: Okay…here's the Allenby fic. We've paired w/ a canon character, but we're not tellin' who. ^_^ That's for you and Allenby to find out together. *chuckles* (We're evil, aren't we? -_^) And just so you know, Sora writes the parts for the male counterpart of this tale (who shall remain unnamed as of now! *laughs*) and I (Athena Masterson) write from Allenby's POV. Furthermore, this chapter starts off w/ Allenby and "The Other" talking to each other on the Net, via IM. "NobleprizeNS" is Allenby's chat name and "Cubalibra40" is "The Other."
Hope you all enjoy! The title and the numbers in the chapter titles will all begin to make sense as the story progresses. Tell us whatcha' think! ;p
~Sora/Athena Masterson
"I want to become the wings…"
"FRIENDS"
SOUL HUNTER
nobleprizeNS: Hey! ^_^
Cubalibra40: You're late today. Something big happen?
nobleprizeNS: Yeah…you wouldn't believe it!
Cubalibra40: What happened?
nobleprizeNS: *giggles*
Cubalibra40: I'm dyin' of suspense…
nobleprizeNS: I'm going on a vacation!!
nobleprizeNS: *bounces about happily*
nobleprizeNS: I'm sooo excited!
Cubalibra40: LOL
Cubalibra40: I can believe it. -_^
nobleprizeNS: I've never had a vacation before
Cubalibra40: Where ya' going?
nobleprizeNS: You'd never guess…
nobleprizeNS: Neo-Scotland!
Cubalibra40: Glasgow?
nobleprizeNS: Nope
Cubalibra40: Ah…come on!
nobleprizeNS: Guess!
Cubalibra40: Tell me!
nobleprizeNS: Just give it a shot.
Cubalibra40: Uh…*thinks real hard*
Cubalibra40: Inverness?
nobleprizeNS: NO…aw, come on. You're not trying very hard!
Cubalibra40: I've got it…I think.
nobleprizeNS: So tell me!
Cubalibra40: Edinburgh
nobleprizeNS: YAY
nobleprizeNS: You got it
nobleprizeNS: I knew you'd get it eventually
Cubalibra40: Gee…thanks! *laughs*
nobleprizeNS: Well…
nobleprizeNS: There's only so many places in Neo-Scotland.
Cubalibra40: True
Cubalibra40: But I didn't know
Cubalibra40: For all I knew
Cubalibra40: You could have been going to
Cubalibra40: The Isle of Man
nobleprizeNS: 'Isle of Man?'
nobleprizeNS: Where's that?
Cubalibra40: In Neo-Scotland
nobleprizeNS: DUH!
nobleprizeNS: I KNEW that.
nobleprizeNS: But WHERE in NSC?
Cubalibra40: Up north
Cubalibra40: It's where Shetland ponies come from
nobleprizeNS: Oh…*feels silly*
Cubalibra40: Don't feel silly
Cubalibra40: You didn't know, that's all
nobleprizeNS: Well…
nobleprizeNS: At least I learned something new today!
nobleprizeNS: ^_^
Cubalibra40: Hey
Cubalibra40: If that's all we do each day,
Cubalibra40: Then it's a day well spent.
nobleprizeNS: How philosophical of you -_^
Cubalibra40: It's true, though
nobleprizeNS: I know! ^.^
nobleprizeNS: Hey – I've
nobleprizeNS: Gotta' run.
Cubalibra40: So run!
Cubalibra40: Don't worry 'bout me.
Cubalibra40: I'll be here next time
Cubalibra40: You want to talk.
nobleprizeNS: I know
nobleprizeNS: You're such a pal! ^_^
nobleprizeNS: I wish we could meet
nobleprizeNS: Someday
Cubalibra40: I hope so
Cubalibra40: That'd be great!
nobleprizeNS: Eeep…c'ya, Cuba!
Cubalibra40: C'ya, Noble.
Cubalibra40: Have fun!
Cubalibra40: Tell me all about it, 'kay?
nobleprizeNS: I will! :)
nobleprizeNS: 'Bye 'til I get back!
Cubalibra40: Bye
* * * * *
I grinned as I lowered the screen on my laptop. I wonder what she'd think if she knew I was the one who sent those tickets. That I was the one who had this whole week planned out. I chuckled to myself as I mused over the next week's events.
"Hey, Slim!"
I twisted in my chair and moaned, "Francis, can't you call me something better than that?"
He shrugged. "Give me a new nickname and maybe I will. Hey, you're thin, it works."
He pointed at my computer and said, "Talkin' to your Swedish treat?"
I frowned and said, "She's not my 'treat.' At least, not yet. And yes, I was."
Francis sat down beside me and rested his elbows on the desk. "Don't you think she'll be a little ticked at you for hiding all this from her? I mean – she doesn't even know you sent the tickets."
I slapped him on the shoulder. "That's the point. It's a surprise. I wouldn't want her to know it was me. She'll keep thinking that someday she'll meet me."
Francis laughed. "Yeah, too bad it's someday really soon."
He rose and pulled a roll of papers from his back pocket. He winced at their crumpled state but shrugged as he said, "Before I forget, here are the new schematics. Take a look and tell me what needs to be added or removed. I want to make sure this is perfect for next time."
I nodded absently, taking the rolled papers from him. Francis headed off, whistling some nonsense tune. The schematics could wait. My 'Noble' Swede was a bit more important at the moment.
I sighed, feeling a little smile tug at my lips. Allenby Beardsley. I had started speaking with her over the Internet about three years ago. Three years that had become some of the most important in my life. During that first year, even when I had yet to meet her, I remembered thinking, 'This is the one, the only one.' When I found out who she was, it only cemented that fact.
But I didn't want her to know who I was just yet. After all, I'd gone through all this trouble of setting the trip up. During my favorite holiday, no less. Hallowe'en.
I rose; making sure the laptop was off. I had only a few hours left to finalize everything. Hell, I still had to pack if I wanted to make it to Neo-Scotland before her. I can't let her get there before me; then all this goes to waste.
A grin still plastered to my face, I made my way out of the main offices, heading to my apartment. I still couldn't believe it. I mean, I'm not coward or anything, but when it comes to members of the opposite sex, I'm less than confident. That was probably why I'd come up with this bizarre scheme to get Allenby to meet me.
Of the people I'd talked to, some though it romantic, some thought it a bit creepy and others thought I was just a bit off. I didn't really care though. From what I knew of Allenby, I figured this would be the perfect way for us to meet.
I entered my apartment and headed straight for my room, throwing things into a leather suitcase. My mind was elsewhere though. I'm not really sure I paid much attention to what went into that satchel. I just prayed it wasn't fifteen pairs of underwear and one shirt. I couldn't imagine Allenby being too thrilled at seeing that.
At the last moment, I decided to bring along my other laptop. I probably could have gotten away with bringing my work computer, but I didn't want to risk the higher-ups getting all twitchy. Besides, my personal laptop had a few tricks up its sleeves for this week.
I donned my coat and hat and grabbed my luggage. Once outside, I hailed a cab, directing it to the airport. My flight was scheduled to leave in two hours. I figured if I was going to wait two hours someplace, it might as well be the airport where I was less likely to get antsy.
The two hours passed quickly and soon I was in the air, heading toward the lush country of Neo-Scotland. I don't think I stopped smiling the entire way. I had a feeling some of the passengers felt I had a musculature condition that wouldn't let me stop. I almost shouted through the entire plane, "I'm in love!" But, I knew without a doubt that would just make them want to edge further away from me.
Once we touched down in Edinburgh, I headed off to my hotel, to get everything ready. She would arrive tomorrow; after that, the plan would proceed. I grinned again as I dropped my luggage on the floor beside my bed. It was a good thing I made fast friends; my connections in Neo-Scotland would go a long way to make sure this week would happen like it should.
I made a few calls and checked my email. Nothing from Allenby, but then again, I wasn't that surprised. She would be too excited right now, thinking of her weeklong trip to Edinburgh. And what a trip it will be, I mused.
* * * * *
I was on cloud nine. I simply couldn't believe my incredible good fortune. I was going to Neo-Scotland!
The only time I had ever been out of Neo-Sweden was during the Gundam Fight last year. And, of course, I've spent a good number of my short years in the NS colony, but this was something completely different. Sure, I'd been to Neo-Scotland before – in fact, I had pounded their gundam fighter into the Highlands almost two years ago, during the Elimination Eleven matches.
But now, for the first time in my life, I was going to go somewhere to have fun. I was going by myself, to do what I wanted to do, and no one was going to tag along and tell me how to relax. I was going to do it all on my own. No fussing mechanics. No over-protective scientists. No military analysts. Just me. Myself. And I.
I just drifted along through the day in a blissful daze. I'm sure all of my associates thought I had finally lost what little sense I had to start with, but I didn't care. All I was concerned about was surviving the next twelve hours.
In a half-hearted attempt to do something practical while still whittling away the hours, I packed. To my surprise, it was more time-consuming than I had originally planned. My years of military training came out to the forefront – I made a detailed list for every day of the week and checked it twice. Hell, I was so excited, and so determined to plan everything perfectly, that I checked that damn list four or five times, at least! And each time I checked it, I remembered something I had forgotten, or added some little thing that I thought I just might need.
For the first time in my life, I let my feminine instincts take over. I was acting like the perfect, spoiled, pampered "girly-girl." I rifled through my depressingly limited wardrobe, pulling out this shirt and matching it with those pants, trying to find seven, faultless combinations.
Thankfully, the doctors, petty officers, and recruits left me alone. I locked my door and cranked up the music in my little, portable radio. To get in the mood for my "Celtic crossover," I played the only CD with quasi-Scottish music on it. Okay…so it was the Dropkick Murphys…not exactly the typical, bouncy, bagpipe-skirling music one associates with the British Isles, but it would have to do. It was a present from Andrew Graham, oddly enough. I didn't think he'd be the one to listen to this kind of music; I also didn't think that he'd be the one to send me a present for my birthday.
Thinking about Andrew kinda' put a damper on my spirits, since memories of him only reminded me of how very close I had come to killing him. In any event, I had forced his early retirement – the pain of that realization wasn't as acute at it had once been, but it still hurt. Especially since him and Argo were such close friends now, and Andrew had been a magnificent fighter to begin with.
But, oddly enough, Andrew seemed to have gotten rid of all his old resentments. Argo was closer almost, than a brother, and I had seemed to take the place of a surrogate daughter. He called every once in a while and sent little things that flattered the woman-side of me; the side that had been repressed for too long. Sometimes, I wondered if the femininity in me had been severely stunted by my country's attempts to make into the "perfect soldier." There was precious little room for perfume, scented lotions, and dresses in that hard-line equation.
With a wistful sigh, I finished packing. Everything was as it should be; everything placed exactly so and ferreted away to my hearts delight. I stood and eyed my bulging suitcase with the air of a conquering Napoleon gloating over Egypt's pyramids. I was so proud of myself. I knew it was silly, but I couldn't help it.
I was ready to go. I glanced at the clock. Just an hour left until it was time for "light's out."
I'll never be able to go to sleep! I thought, accompanying my mental words with a light laugh.
But there was just something a little…well, fishy about this vacation. While I personally didn't think much of it, Dr. Bernstein had made quite a fuss about it. This dream vacation package had come in the mail, addressed to me. Like the Pavlovian individual that I am, I brought it to the attention of my "guardians." Mostly, it was just because I was so surprised to see that – especially since precious few people mailed me – and I wanted to see what older heads than I thought about it.
Imagine the surprise of all, when the package was opened it was discovered that someone had gone out of their way to pay for an exclusive, 7-day vacation to beautiful Edinburgh, Neo-Scotland. A note included in the package informed the others and me that this was the working of an anonymous fan, who wanted to congratulate me on my performance in the Gundam Fight Tournament and for being the "pride of Neo-Sweden."
Now, I personally didn't see myself as such, even if I hadn't had any control over Wong's evil schemes. But…if someone wanted to think that of me, all the more power to them, I say. So I wasn't too suspicious – but Dr. Bernstein was determined to ferret out a rat. He drove us all crazy with his insistence that this "fan" was planning something devious and potentially dangerous.
He tried to get me to stay in Neo-Sweden, but the more I thought about going to Neo-Scotland, on my own, for seven blessed days, the more I began to ignore him. I was going and that was final! I wanted a vacation – some time to myself. And no one was going to talk me into sticking around.
I deserved a break and I was going to take one, regardless of who was behind the payment and delivery of such an incredible stroke of luck. My desire to go was nurtured and strengthened by the positive response I got from "Cuba." Even though I didn't know the guy's real name, we were still the best of friends and I trusted his opinion. If "Cuba" didn't think there was anything dark and clandestine about this innocent gesture of good will, then neither did I.
Though there was something a wee bit strange about the note's P.S. The whole, one-paged letter was written very formally…and typed. So there was no way of doing a handwriting analysis on it and rooting out a "suspect" (as Bernstein labeled my mysterious benefactor). The note in itself was all fine and very polite – I had saved it as a memento of this auspicious occasion.
But at the very end of the letter, there was enclosed a P.S. All that was contained in this postscript was a single number – 8. It baffled the hell out of Bernstein, who was absolutely convinced that this was clue, a "signature" of the "criminal mind", if you will.
I just laughed his concerns away. After all, what dire deeds could possibly be portended by a simple 8?
And without another thought to the letter or Bernstein's paranoia, here I was, three days later, on the eve of my departure.
God! I was so excited. Words can't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I felt like I was walking on air. Like…every second held some hidden meaning. An adventure that beckoned seductively with each passing minute.
Even though I didn't think I'd ever fall asleep, years of training kicked in. It took me a little longer than usual, but I finally drifted off like I did every other night. But even my dreams were filled with ecstatic anticipation.
I dreamed of castles, cobbled lanes, and mist. And somewhere in the back of my mind, a bagpipe played the Sackpipslat. It was going to be a vacation I would never forget.
How true! How very true. I'd come back from that trip with a hell of a lot more than a bag of souvenirs. But first, I'd be subjected to love's version of Hallowe'en's "trick or treat." But all the tricks ahead of me would be well worth the treat I'd gain at the end…
Sackpipslat – a traditional Scandinavian air, played on the bagpipes.