Click. Pause.
Clickclick. Pause.
Clickclickclick. Pause.
Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick-
"Oh for heaven's sake, Lelouch, have some patience with the poor thing. That computer's fifteen years old."
We find our beloved anti-hero, Lelouch Lamperouge (vi Britannia), sitting poolside in one of Ashford Academy's many luxurious athletic facilities at some ungodly hour of the night. In his lap rested a device that he hadn't been aware even existed outside of museums - a Linux laptop.
Honestly, he would've been just fine with remaining ignorant to that little piece of information, because the blasted thing was doing a better job of thwarting his efforts in liberating Japan and destroying Britannia than all of the legions of the Holy Britannian Empire combined. "I should have this thing taken out back and shot as a subversive," the raven-haired revolutionary grumbled under his breath.
His only companion, his confidante and accomplice C.C., slipped out of the water gracefully and wrapped a towel around her bathing suit-clad form. Her damp emerald hair glistened with an ethereal light under the rays of the moon that emanated from the glass-paneled ceiling above, and her peculiar golden eyes twinkled with unhidden amusement as she watched her charge give in to frustration and begin tapping away at the keys with ever-growing force, until he was essentially pounding on them petulantly.
The immortal woman's mystical beauty was lost on Lelouch as he all but slammed the aggravating apparatus's lid shut and tossed it to the pool deck's surface carelessly, where it somehow remained perfectly intact - despite having had more than enough force to shatter any other modern personal computer.
"You know, it really can't be that hard to find a new computer," C.C. pointed out with a dry smirk as she pulled a pool chair up beside the young man and folded it flat, laying out on her stomach and propping herself up on her arms at just the right angle to give Lelouch an enticing view of her ample cleavage.
"It's not in this month's budget, Witch," the disinherited prince replied tiredly as he slumped back into his own seat, suddenly devoid of all energy, "And using Geass to acquire a new one has far too many potential holes with all of the value and tracking functions of today's technology. A cell phone is small and inexpensive enough that it is not generally missed too terribly; a personal computer, however, carries a great deal of personal information, and comes with a myriad of back doors and programs through which it can be located and monitored if declared missing. And despite being as tech-savvy as I am, even I am no match for those devious bastards at Apple."
Her contracted cohort's resigned response elicited a scoff from C.C., who was quite thoroughly miffed by the boy's complete disregard for her tantalizing taunting. "Honestly, you young people and your technology these days… Why, back in my day-" she cut her own tirade short as Lelouch shot her that absolutely infuriating grin - the one that combined intellectual condescension, princely arrogance, and a minuscule hint of roguish charm that, when put together on the face of a young Adonis, was enough to drive any normal woman insane in more ways than one. Having been in the company of many men with much more overall appeal than this one, C.C. was proud to consider herself as desensitized as any living woman could be; unfortunately, his striking eyes, with a hue not dissimilar to creation's deepest amethysts, somehow managed to carry an allure to rival her own, and were simply too much for any living woman to completely defend against. "Be silent, Lelouch."
"Your age is showing," Lelouch chuckled against his better judgement. He sealed his fate with his followup question.
"How old are you, exactly?"
He never saw the slap coming until he was already underwater.
"And here I was thinking that your sense of self-preservation was better than that," C.C. declared casually, "It appears that I was mistaken; or else you simply are just that stupid."
Lelouch bobbed to the surface and simply floated there on his back, staring uncomprehendingly at the starry night sky.
Blink. Blink.
"Wow. Maybe I am that stupid."
"You're telling me," C.C. rolled her eyes. She alighted from her perch and glided across the deck to the doors, absently pausing the swoop down and snatch up the antiquated computer. "Keep this old thing around for a little longer, I'll try and see what I can do about a replacement."
"I'd rather have this relic than a typewriter or pen and parchment, thank you very much," Lelouch snarked against his better judgement. He jerked and dove back into the water before C.C.'s soaked towel could land on his face and ensnare him.
"You should get some sleep," the immortal woman shook the last droplets of water from her emerald hair and flipped it over one shoulder, "Sleep deprivation must really be getting to you if you're making this many mistakes."
"Clearly…" the teenage revolutionary grimaced as he surfaced, absently bemoaning the loss of his favorite white silk button-down shirt and black rayon dress pants.
—
'Dammit, I knew I should've just put the downpayment on that Dell…' Zero cursed to himself for the umpteenth time in an hour as his ancient Linux once again refused to connect with the satellite link that was routed through his Burai, which rested as close to the cabin as he could move it without smashing in a wall. Heaving a great sigh, the masked miracle-maker pushed the computer to the side of the simple wooden table and reached down to the bag at his side, withdrawing a cluster of folded topographical maps. Spreading the first across the surface in front of him, he retrieved the handheld radio from his hip and set it on the edge of the map.
"B-1, I need a status update. The Britannians are jamming my satellite uplink, so I've had to resort to some old area maps." Yes, that sounded about right. 'Jamming' sounded a lot better than 'My crappy laptop is too old to connect to my Knightmare's internet.'
"Roger that, Zero," Kaname Ohgi, his primary field tactical commander, responded immediately. "As of twenty seconds ago, units P-2 through P-6 are advancing up the southeast slope at the following coordinates, bearing One-Six-Zero…"
The conversation proceeded as such for several minutes, with Ohgi reporting the Black Knights' positions and rattling off coordinates and movement headings, while Lelouch (now sans Zero mask, given that he was roughly two miles from the closest axis of advance) muttered affirmations and used discarded Go pieces from the outpost's former occupants to mark said locations. After a few minutes of this process, he discovered that he was short on both game pieces and table space. Muting the handheld for a moment, he growled loudly in frustration, and shot a sub-zero glare at the computer adjacent to him, which in turn seemed to taunt him by giving another short ding and a message of 'No Connection Found.'
His rage was temporarily abated as the cabin's door opened, and his new favorite immortal witch entered, carrying a black bag that bore an absolutely delightful resemblance to a computer carrying case. "Please give me good news, C.C.," Lelouch tried not to sound pleading as Ohgi's droning voice continued to recite coordinates in the background.
"Oh, well, I stopped by this adorable little coffee shop on the way here, and the mochi they had was simply to die for," she replied without missing a beat, her tone bearing a lilting sort of sarcasm that, on any other occasion, Lelouch might've actually been mildly impressed by. Seeing her charge's brow twitching with an ever-growing frequency, C.C. grinned and dropped to kneel, raising the case in the same manner as one might present an engagement ring. "Your instrument of chaos and destruction, milord," she intoned in her best impression of the current Knight of One - which, all things considered, actually wasn't half bad.
As it were, he grasped the case's zipper and slowly, almost reverently, opened it to reveal the device inside. On the bottom of the padded carrier rested a shiny new MacBook Pro laptop, gleaming in a single beam of angelic light that at the same time left a sinister shadow below.
Wishing fervently for any sort of rendition of the Hallelujah chorus, Lelouch picked up the computer with trembling figures, fearing that it would turn to dust in his very hands. When it did not, he set it back into the case, placed everything on the table, and turned back to his accomplice.
"I truly cannot find sufficient words or actions to thank you for this," he breathed solemnly.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," the ageless enigma replied coyly.
"Right," the young revolutionary nodded. He retrieved his handheld and cut Ohgi off mid-report, "Return to your previous business, B-1, I've managed to bypass the jamming net."
"Good to hear, Zero. Please try to catch up quickly, Q-1 is moving closer to Cornelia's main force as we speak."
"Understood, B-1. Excellent work." Lelouch immediately cut the connection and set the radio to receive only directed calls. Rubbing his hands together in a manner not unbecoming of a cartoonish super villain, he gently lifted the lid. Tapping the power button, the former prince could honestly say that right at that particular moment, the Apple logo was even more glorious than a burning Britannian coat of arms. Speeding through the setup process in a blur of gloved fingers on backlit keys, he was at his new home screen in a matter of moments, admiring the crystal-clear image quality granted by the fifteen-inch retina display. 'No Microsoft Office. We'll have to remedy that as soon as possible.' Shelving the thought for the moment, he immediately set about connecting with his Burai's wireless uplink, at which point a new host of pre-loaded programming options appeared.
As Lelouch worked, C.C., lacking any sort of perch at the moment, draped herself over his shoulders. The teen stiffened for an instant at the contact, but never stopped working, and soon relaxed in her grip. "I don't suppose you were actually telling the truth about that coffee shop?" he queried hopefully.
"Oh yes, there actually was a very nice little shop on the way here. Unfortunately they were in the process of packing up and retreating to safer grounds, so they only had enough mochi for me," the woman grinned as her charge deflated disappointedly.
"Witch," he grumbled under his breath. "I haven't eaten since we left the clubhouse last night."
"I thought there were some MREs packed away behind the seat of the Burai for just such an emergency," she responded with a quirked a brow.
"I ate the last one at Saitama and forgot to replace them," Lelouch muttered embarrassedly.
"Well then unless you'd care to search me, you're out of luck," C.C. declared smugly. Lelouch had to force himself not to turn and look as he recalled in an instant that, with the exception of the sleeves, legs, and collar, his companion's trademark white prison jumpsuit was basically skin-tight.
"I don't know, I'm not quite sure that I believe you entirely," he shot back easily, still not looking away from his screen. He then felt C.C.'s weight drift up and off of his shoulders, and when she came around to his front again, he glanced up just briefly enough to make his cheeks burn.
She had zipped the back of her suit down to the middle of her back, and the upper half of the ensemble was pooled in her arms, which were folded over the middle of her chest, exposing the upper halves of her breasts. Her expression was demure and submissive as she bent over the table and the computer, giving him one of the best views of his life - next to Kallen's athletic form, bare and shimmering in the golden light of the Student Council Clubhouse's bathroom, that is.
"In that case… I suppose I'll submit to your inspection… Lord Zero," she breathed, though her lips were twitching back and forth between a small, role-appropriate smile, and a broad, mischievous grin.
"W-witch… Make yourself decent!" Lelouch stumbled over his words, trying desperately to keep his eyes averted.
"But I thought that you wanted to see me like this, Lord Zero…" she pouted seductively.
"I have a battle to run," he growled back weakly, only to redden further as the immortal woman basically crawled across the table and pressed her chest to his, moving until their faces were barely an inch or two apart. Her hot breath beat against his lips, and her lidded amber gaze stirred something in him.
"Ohgi seems like a fairly competent tactical commander…" she whispered, inching forward until he could feel the soft, smooth skin of her cheek on his own, and she continued, her every word caressing his senses, "… I'm sure the Black Knights won't fall apart while you take a ten-minute quickie."
Lelouch's mind went blank right then and there as C.C.'s hand snaked around his back to the zipper at his neck and slowly crept downwards. He ceased resisting.
She ran her free hand over his chest, coming to rest over his right pectoral. She grasped… Grinned… And twisted.
The mood was gone in an instant as Lelouch's mind registered a searing pain in his chest, and he toppled backwards in his chair. His eyes were squeezed shut as his mind tried to fight off the extremely unpleasant sensation, but he still managed to register the witch's mocking, mellifluous laughter as she crawled off the table and returned to her proper state of dress.
"T-The Great Zero, the Man of Miracles and the Liberator of Japan… Defeated by o-one woman! W-with a purple-nurple! You act so suave, charming, and unflappable - but underneath it all, y-you're just a horny teenager! It's just too much to bear!" she cackled, holding her stomach and leaning on the table as she laughed the hardest she had in two decades.
Lelouch growled angrily as he pulled himself to his feet and dusted off his bodysuit, securing the zipper fully. "Witch…!"
"Is that really all you have to say after that sorry display?" C.C. shot back smugly. He fumbled desperately for a full minute, searching for a scathing retort, but he came back with nothing, opting to settle back into his now-upright chair and resume the business of war.
"I'll deal with you later," he finally half-sighed, half-groaned.
Feeling sufficiently satisfied and entertained for the morning, C.C. spun on her heel and exited the cabin, heading out for a stroll through the woods.
—
The night after the battle at Narita, Lelouch stepped out of Ashford Academy's maintenance tunnels and into the residential wing of the Student Council Clubhouse. Clad once more in his school uniform, and struggling with a rather hefty black duffel bag over his shoulder, the semi-victorious revolutionary entered the darkened kitchen and flicked on a single light over the island countertop. Waving off his kunoichi-maid Sayoko tiredly, he heaved the bag up onto the table off to the side, and flopped down into one of the high-backed chairs placed around the island. While the results of the battle took up a portion of his thoughts, the rest were preoccupied by his perplexing undying accomplice.
The trick she had pulled was crass, underhanded, and had most definitely taken him by complete surprise. But it had served to shed light on a major personal weakness that could potentially be exploited by the enemies of his cause; and the momentary distraction had also helped to temper his subsequent focus on tactical command, which had undoubtedly saved the lives of several of his Black Knights.
With those facts on the table, he remained at an impasse in terms of what to do next. Then he glanced at the duffel bag, and could just make out the ten-by-fifteen-inch outline of the laptop case inside.
The MacBook.
That clinched it.
—
When the subject of his tumultuous thoughts returned to Ashford Academy two hours later, she slipped in through the kitchen service door, and was immediately intrigued by a solitary circular plate resting in the middle of the island. The plate was covered with tinfoil, and on top of it rested a single yellow sticky note, with a short message that was scrawled in an obvious haste, yet somehow managed to retain a peculiar elegance of font.
Thank you, C.C.
The immortal quirked a brow and slipped the foil off of the plate, revealing a small and extremely tasty-looking pizza that was still a little warm. Snatching up a previously-sliced piece and raising it to her lips, she inhaled the heavenly aroma of the cheese-laden dough, and took a small bite.
The remainder of the pizza disappeared in short order within a ravenous emerald blur.
"Dammit, now I owe him twice over…"
—
The following day, the pair saw neither hide nor hair of one another; Lelouch because of his occupation with actually having to put effort into his education for one day out of every two weeks, and C.C. because she was sprawled out on the Clubhouse rooftop talking to Marianne, contemplating what she would do to repay Lelouch, and stroking Arthur's dark purple fur idly.
When that night rolled around, the weather was unusually temperate, resulting in several empty facilities as students and faculty relocated to more suitable locations to enjoy the evening.
Lelouch found himself swimming laps in the indoor pool, the fading sun casting a warm orange glow down onto the vibrant blue water. He had donned a pair of black swim trunks, choosing to forgo the embarrassingly tiny blue Ashford speedo.
Taking a short pause from his tenth lap - and cursing himself for already feeling completely exhausted - Lelouch floated on his back for a spell, staring up at the streaks of maroon and goldenrod painted across the sky.
The pool rippled slightly, and the sounds of light splashing indicated a new arrival. Lelouch remained at his rest, a little captivated by the picturesque heavens above. He finally glanced over as his companion came to float beside him. "Come to drown me just enough to incapacitate me for the next engagement?"
C.C. didn't respond for a bit as she took her time absorbing the scene above. Lelouch took her silence as a request for a moment of thought, and resumed the same activity.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity (more so to one of them than the other), the immortal's voice called out softly.
"… You're not like the others."
Lelouch twisted his head enough to glance at her out of the corner of his eye curiously. "What others?"
"My other contractors. The rest of them allowed me to remain by their side in hopes of my presence somehow accelerating or amplifying their powers; there was one that saw me as more than a tool, but he was young, and not all there. You, however… You actually treat me as something more than a means to an end. A confidant, even - though not in the manner of the others."
Lelouch took a moment to contemplate this. "I see no wisdom in disrespecting or treating poorly the one who granted me this momentous power," he replied evenly, "And you're invested in this endeavor as much as I am, so why wouldn't I trust you?"
Her absent visage dropped slightly as she gave a small frown. "I see; so since you presume us to be in this for victory or death, you see no reason not to include me in your plans?"
"That's not what I meant," Lelouch denied immediately. "You are a competent, experienced, and overall valuable companion… And, I suppose that when you get passed the snarky, glutinous, and generally annoying exterior… Well, I guess you're not exactly bad company, Miss C.C."
C.C.'s lips twitched upwards into an amused smirk. "You really know how to sweet-talk a girl, you know?"
"I find myself capable of turning on the charm when the need arises," he smirked back. He then jerked a little in surprise as something its way into his hand; he glanced down and saw that it was her own.
"And I suppose that when you get passed the hormonal, egotistical, and generally sociopathic exterior… You're not exactly too bad yourself, Mister Lamperouge." She paused for a moment and stared blankly into space before adding quietly, "And I apologize for my actions at the start of the battle at Narita. But it was for your own good."
"I understand; and I thank you for that lesson, and accept your apology," Lelouch replied softly.
The two looked into one another's eyes for a long moment in a silent exchange. Then, they simply turned back and pulled closer together, floating contently and watching until the sun had disappeared and given way to the purple hues of dusk.
And idle thought passed through the witch's mind. "So what exactly did you end up doing with that ancient relic of a laptop, anyhow?" Lelouch grinned in a manner that did C.C. herself proud.
"Let's just say that my dear father will be rather distraught to discover the contents of a mysterious unmarked package after his computer dies of uncertain causes..."
—
"BISMAAAARK!"
The towering Knight of One, Bismark Waldstein, the symbol of the Britannian Emperor's absolute authority and offensive might, meekly slunk into the Imperial Palace's throne room from a side entrance. "You rang, Your Majesty?" he queried hesitantly.
The Ninety-Eighth Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, Charles zi Britannia - a man whose imposing stature closely rivaled his own in terms of sheer presence alone - sat upon his grand throne, grinding his teeth as he continually mashed the left-click button on a... Linux laptop? ...Which he proceeded to slam shut, and literally punt across the room to smash into the massive throne room doors. "I want the creators of that accursed device rounded up, given the biggest sham of a trial that has been seen in this empire since the case of Adolf Hitler versus the Holy Britannian Empire, and then put to the sword, the guillotine, and the noose. Yes - all of them. And then I want this wretched piece of machinery ground into bits beneath the feet of the Galahad and then incinerated alongside the rest of its disgusting predecessors, successors, and peers. HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!"
"As crystal, Your Majesty!" Bismark replied powerfully, though still not even close to matching the sheer rage and hatred contained within his immediate superior's voice. Turning on his heel and walking, then jogging, then sprinting to the doors, the Knight of One stopped only to retrieve the pieces of said accursed device before moving to carry out his lord's wishes.
The Knight of Three, Gino Weinberg, would later come across his knight-superior's prized Generation Eight Knightmare Frame, the Galahad, out on the parade ground, stomping on a small pile of dust - that once might've been a computer of some sort - in a manner similar to a man stomping on a particularly hated insect.
Fin