Merry Christmas to … Lamanth! (hands gift-wrapped fic and hugs tightly)

This really is ridiculously long, but I had a plot bouncing around my head screaming at me! Would I have been able to ignore it, this would be shorter. But alas, 'twas not to be.

And then, said evil plot took such a twist that it left me sitting here, thinking:

"… What the fuck?!"

You'll see what I mean.

Read on, world!

Bryan pushed open the heavy door and walked in. The receptionist looked up at him with a ready, plastic smile, only for it to change to a true one as she recognised him.

"Hello, Bryan." Bryan nodded vaguely in her direction. "Will you be attending your usual session?"

"Yeah." Bryan muttered after a momentary hesitation, momentarily finding it difficult to slip back into Russian.

"Ok, let me just enter you in …" Keys clicked, then the smile was back again. "Another patient is having his session right now, so please try not to barge in like you did last time." Bryan blinked twice in quick succession, the only sign that he was taken aback.

"Last time was an emergency."

"That is as may be," came the dry response. "But there is no need to do it this time, is there?"

"No,"

"Well, then. You have an hour to wait, I'm afraid," Shrugging, Bryan strode down the corridor, heading for the garden.

Sitting down on one of the many benches that scattered the grounds, he sat back as comfortably as cold, hard wood allowed and let his eyes drift lazily around.

A flash of red caught his eye and he focused instantly, already preparing the lecture to give Tala; who should still be bed-ridden but could be found walking around at any point or place. As he stared, he realised that it wasn't Tala, but Brooklyn. Snorting in distaste, Bryan looked away.

He knew no one who liked the orange-haired "genius", and he certainly didn't. There was something … dirty about his blading. He didn't try. What kind of blader could win a battle without even breaking a sweat, or stirring that self-confident smirk from his face? It was inhuman. And on top of that, he was an arrogant bastard who gloried in never being wrong. He mentally thanked Kai and Tyson for their incredible victories, even if Kai was still paying for his two months afterwards.

As unlikely to stay bed-bound as Tala, there was a chance Kai might lose all sight in one eye. Rumour had it that he attacked anyone who so much as touched Dranzer.

Bryan sighed. We're too stubborn, he thought ruefully. No Abbey child knows that things like limits even exist. A scowl touched the corners of his lips and twisted them. Unlike Brooklyn, who doesn't know what limits are because he's only reached them once.

As he continued the scathing inner monologue, his eyes were roaming the huge expanse of garden unseeingly, browsing over faces that hadn't changed in two years.

Once again, hair colour caught his attention with a jolt. Not red this time, not even dark blue, (and everyone considered it only a matter of time before Kai ended up in here) but bright, shining turquoise tied up with two pink ribbons.

Ming-Ming? Bryan raised an eyebrow in surprise. He knew why Brooklyn was here, but the girl? Maybe she was just along for moral support? No, Brooklyn had never struck him as the type of person to require or indeed want any kind of support. A good thump round the head with something hard and blunt, maybe. And if fortune favoured him, he would land that blow … back to reality, why wasshe here? His curiosity piqued, he stood and headed in the former BEGA mascot's direction.

Two large chocolate brown eyes rose to meet his slowly. Bryan was shocked by how scared Ming-Ming looked. Like a hunted animal trapped in a corner, she was shifting from foot to foot constantly, gazing around her nervously.

"What's up?" he asked at last, after her gaze had returned to him and flicked away again at least three times. She shrugged. "Why are you here?" Another shrug. "Have it your way, then." He turned to go. A small voice stopped him.

"If I had it my way, I wouldn't be here," She met his eyes now, transferring the fidgeting to her hands, which were tugging at her clothes, clasping and unclasping, tucking her hair behind her ears and showing every sign of fear. But not of him, Bryan noted with interest. He scared a lot of people. He was quite proud of that fact, even cultivated it at times.

"You're not scared of me?" It came out as a question, which annoyed him. He rarely needed to ask questions and he hadn't needed to just then. Ming-Ming looked at him and smiled, albeit a little shakily.

"Why?" she asked simply.

"Most people think I'm a psychopath. Have you ever seen the footage of my match with Ray?" She nodded.

"I'm on the same team as Garland and Brookie, aren't I?" She spoke as if it needed no clarification, and Bryan saw her point instantly. After all, it was both of his team mates that had suffered and were still suffering because of the two names just mentioned.

"Brookie?" he repeated, disdainfully. A vigorous nod.

"He's a friend!" she said, defensively enough for Bryan to wish his tone had been different. Still, truths must be told.

"He's a freak of nature," he said flatly. A burst of anger coloured Ming-Ming's face.

"He is not! He's just … " She paused, clearly racking her brains. Bryan couldn't resist a smirk. "Different," she finished at last. "And he needs a friend to keep his ego down." She smiled mischievously.

"Like Hilary does for Tyson?" Bryan inquired oh-so-casually. Ming-Ming nodded innocently. "Aren't those two going out?" A flicker of girlish scorn twitched at Ming-Ming's lips; contempt for someone who just couldn't keep up with gossip.

"No-o!" She successfully doubled the amount of syllables in the word in her astounded disbelief. "Hilary's going out with Ray!"

"But isn't Ray bi?" Bryan was floundering. Long conversations on the private lives of his fellow bladers were not his forté. Ming-Ming rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, he is. Bi, not gay, therefore he still likes girls, you get it?" Bryan scowled. He didn't like being humiliated.

On the slightly better side of things, at least she didn't appear about to bolt at any second.

"Why are you here?" he repeated again. The smile fell from her face and she looked away, eyes forlorn.

He waited.

"I don't like it here," she said at last, her voice down to whisper-level. "It scares me."

Scared her? Bryan was more puzzled than he would ever let on. His eyes skimmed the garden, taking each separate sight that caught his eye and trying to see it as a newcomer would.

A young teenage boy, pacing in a small, tight circle, round and round.

A middle-aged woman, standing perfectly still and talking to herself.

A young man, with wide, frightened eyes, who let out shrill screams at two-minute intervals.

An old woman, with a round, squashed face and a broad, somehow terrible smile stretched immovably across her sagging cheeks.

Yeah, Bryan acknowledged silently, he could understand Ming-Ming's fear.

After all, what normal person wouldn't be afraid, stuck in a psychiatric hospital?

-----

Ming-Ming wandered over to Brooklyn, who was lying comfortably on the grass, his head pillowed on his interlocked fingers.

"Who were you talking to, Mimi?" he inquired at last, finally registering that she was standing there.

"Bryan." A slender eyebrow rose derisively.

"You mean the guy who sounds like a talking cheese grater?" An angry spark lit in Ming-Ming's eyes.

"He was really nice to me! Nicer than you are most of the time!" Brooklyn raised his other eyebrow as well, more than a little surprised at the unexpected burst of temper from his meek friend.

"All right, chill out." he said peaceably. "You've got to agree, the guy sounds like he's got something wrong with his nose."

"I don't have to agree with anything you say!" Ming-Ming shot back, still decidedly fired up. Brooklyn looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sweeping her from head to foot with his cool gaze in an unobtrusive check for "the signs", then, finding none, shrugged slightly and looked back up at the sky.

"No, you don't." he said eventually. Lazily, he raised one arm over his head and glanced at his watch. Standing in one fluid movement, he gave Ming-Ming a small smile. "I'm up. See you later."

"See you." Ming-Ming replied automatically. Snapping out of her daze after a few seconds, she wondered whether it was her appointment yet. Looking at her own watch, she yelped and looked around wildly. She was already five minutes late, where the hell was the door?

-----

A vague mixture of emotions swirled in Bryan's mind and he cursed his shrink for the thousandth time. He didn't like emotions. Hate was fine. Anger was fine. He could survive with just those two perfectly adequately.

But fear? Grief? Even … happiness? What did he want those for? Why would he even need them?

Anger forced its way through his head and settled into its familiar spot, a cold, hard diamond amidst the mist and he drew a deep, satisfied breath.

As he headed for the exit, a door opened and Ming-Ming appeared.

Surprise momentarily pushed aside anger and he stared unashamedly at the girl in front of him.

Gone was the lively, innocent young girl he had talked to just an hour before. In her place was someone entirely different.

Chocolate had hardened to sandstone, immovable rock. A look of sly haughtiness perched upon the tanned face, where the roundness of before could not be found. Older in every aspect, this young woman was standing bolt upright, hands clenched into fists, dark, unpainted lips pressed tightly together. Bryan found every muscle in his body taut and thrilled as she slowly turned her gaze onto him.

"You after something, bitch?" he demanded challengingly. A faint smirked curved Ming-Ming's mouth up and to the side and she placed a gloved hand on her hip.

"Nothing that you'd understand." She gave him a distant smile and turned away, letting the hand resting on her hip float oh-so-gently down to lie flat against her leg. Bryan felt an unaccustomed tug in his groin and pulled up his only remaining defence, the bitter, twisted emotion of hatred.

"You wouldn't understand much, you fucking air-head." She halted, turned, and shot him a dark look.

"I'm not an air-head, you talking cheese grater." she snarled. "She is." Turning on her heel, the petite blader walked away quickly, too quickly, almost running.

Confusion poked tentatively at the edge of Bryan's mind, only to be violently pushed out by the two looming walls that dominated the space in the boy's head.

Bryan shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and strode off. He wanted out of here, right now.

-----

Tala's face showed nothing of the disappointment he felt as he saw Bryan coming through the door. Or rather, stomping through the door.

"I thought therapy's supposed to help?" he asked calmly, keeping his eyes carefully on Wolborg's new attack ring that he needed to put into place.

"You should be resting." Bryan snapped, before slamming the door to his bedroom behind him. Tala rolled his eyes.

"Well, I don't want to. And no one's exactly making me." he muttered. After a few seconds' pause, he stood, biting down a gasp as his weakened muscles cramped, and walked over to the closed door. "So, what happened?"

Silence. "Is it really that hard to acknowledge that you have emotions other than hating the world?" An incoherent grunt came from behind the door. Tala breathed out heavily, almost a sigh, and leant his full weight against the door. His head hurt, his legs felt like particularly painful pieces of jelly, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was standing in front of a closed door and arguing with someone who had only listened to him five times in all their years of knowing and relying on each other. Turning away, he went back to the sofa and slumped down, yawning despite himself.

"Oh, Kai's coming over at some point this week." he called, suddenly remembering.

"Joy." came Bryan's flat response. Encouraged by the response and the lack of things hitting the wall or door, Tala inquired, his voice as indifferent as it had been through all their conversation so far, inquired;

"You coming out now?"

"No." Shrugging, Tala went back to adjusting Wolborg.

An hour later, Bryan opened the door to his bedroom. Casting a slightly guilty look behind him at the rips in everything insubstantial enough to be torn, he stepped out of the room and surveyed Tala with a critical eye.

"Well?" his friend demanded belligerently from where he was hunched up on the sofa, light eyes flashing defiantly.

"Well what?" Bryan shot back. "You look like shit." he informed him as he turned to go into the kitchen and get something to eat.

"Where are you going?" Bryan looked at him as if he was an idiot.

"To get food."

"Oh no you're not." Tala regarded him with a hard, frozen look that made Bryan's stomach sink. "What wound you up?"

"Nothing important." The ice in Tala's gaze reached Kelvin temperature.

"Bryan!" he snarled. Giving in after deciding the matter was of no real importance, Bryan sat down on the other side of the sofa, sprawling comfortably.

"You know the old BEGA mascot? That kid who sung when she bladed?" Tala raised his eyebrows in surprise and Bryan felt a small thrill of satisfaction. It wasn't often he knew something that Tala didn't. "She was there. She wound me up after I'd come out, that was all." On an impulse, he had decided to keep the girl's strange behaviour to himself until he knew more about it.

"That sugar princess?" Tala said scathingly. "Why the hell was she in there? Someone gave her the wrong directions to the hairdresser?" He smirked at his own joke. "How did she wind you up?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"No, it doesn't. Leave it." Raising both hands in mock-surrender, Tala leaned backwards slightly.

"Fine. I'll leave it. For now." The glare he shot at Bryan with those last two words crackled with frosty anger, then softened slightly. "At least you know what winds you up now."

"As opposed to …" Bryan trailed off questioningly, a nasty tone in his grating voice.

"As opposed to being like you were before." Tala replied in a careful monotone.

"We were all like it." Bryan answered defensively, hating Tala for making him feel the need to defend himself, hating himself for taking the bait.

"Not to your extent. You were that bastard's pride and joy."

"No, I believe that was you, Cyber Tala." The temperature of the room dropped. Casually, Tala stroked a thumb over Wolborg's bit-chip and ice started to form around the two teens. Bryan looked away, guilt and shock at what he had just said whirling inside him.

"I didn't mean it." he said curtly, automatically, unable to meet his friend's glacial, coldly livid glare. Taking refuge in impassiveness, he continued flatly, "Stop doing that or you'll wear yourself out."

"Why should you care?" Tala hissed. Bryan suppressed a shiver, though at what he wasn't quite sure. A sharp sting shot through his arm and he looked at it, his eyes widening as he saw the ice collecting on his skin.

"Tala!" Tala blinked a few times, and the temperature returned to something resembling normality. A faintly guilty look crossed his pale, gaunt face and he rubbed the bridge of his nose distractedly.

"Sorry." he muttered.

"I think I am, too." Tala shot a quick look at Bryan.

"Good."

-----

The front door closed. Mathilda called out a cheerful greeting.

"Hi." Mathilda sighed, wondering how on earth one word could contain that amount of sarcasm.

"Therapist get you down again?" she tried hopefully.

"She's a total bitch." came the fuming reply. Ming-Ming leaned against the doorframe, her attitude the unpleasant mix of arrogance and rampant sexuality that disturbed Mathilda.

"Could you try not to swear?" she asked timidly, futilely. The older girl snorted and swung around, walking off in an apparent huff. Decidedly dispirited, Mathilda turned back to her pasta bubbling in the saucepan and stirred it absentmindedly.

She had known the risks when she had offered the older girl her spare room. If she put it as bluntly as she possibly could, Ming-Ming had mental problems. Which were, of course, the reason she was in Russia to start with.

One minute she was the bubbly, sweet, mischievous girl that Mathilda related to and enjoyed being with, and the next, she was a moody, bitchy, sexually promiscuous, stuck-up cow. Mathilda blinked, startled by her own thoughts. Don't be nasty, she admonished herself.

And it wasn't a normal teenage mood-swing either, she mused. As far as Ming-Ming was concerned - and this was the worrying bit - there were two different personalities, in essence, two different people, inside her head. Whenever she talked about what she had done in her "other" state, it was "she", not "I".

No one knew what had caused it, and if Ming-Ming did, then she wasn't saying.

A "ping!" from the timer jolted Mathilda from her thoughts and she set about getting her meal ready. She was hungry.

-----

Bryan scanned the garden yet again, looking for last week's flash of blue. Why am I even looking? he demanded of himself. It's not like I care if she's here or not. No, he was just curious as to what had triggered that inexplicable personality change. That was it. Entirely.

There she was! He stood and headed swiftly towards her, slowing down as he got near as you would to a shy animal.

"Hey." he said flatly. She smiled hesitantly at him, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears. She was wearing a light pink, fluffy coat, he noticed with distaste. He would never understand girls' clothes. Who would voluntarily wear pink or fluff, let alone both?

"Hiya. You okay?" He shrugged.

"Yeah." he said at last, when it became obvious she was waiting for a response. "You?" She imitated his shrug with a cheeky grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "What happened last week?" he demanded, getting straight to the point. She dropped her head and studied the floor intently.

"That's why I come here." she whispered. There was silence for a few minutes, where Bryan was perfectly comfortable and Ming-Ming wasn't.

"Where are you staying?" he asked eventually. "With Brooklyn?" She shook her head.

"Nope, he stays here." Bryan couldn't prevent a gloating grin. "I'm staying with Mathilda."

"Mathilda…" Bryan trailed off, frowning as he attempted to put a face to the name.

"From the Barthez Battalions? Pink hair?"

"Vaguely." he said dismissively.

"Who are you staying with?" Bryan was surprised at having his question turned back on him. That was what intrigued him about Ming-Ming, how incredibly fearless she seemed to be of him. No one else he had ever met probed so bluntly and yet so lightly into his life, as if he was just anyone else. He … liked that.

"Tala." He snorted. "He's got his girlfriend round tonight, so I'll be trying to amuse myself while they fuck all night." He noticed Ming-Ming's flinch and wondered what had caused it. He had never known a person who didn't swear.

"Could I come over?" she whispered, so softly that he had to strain to hear it.

"Come over?" he repeated idiotically. She giggled.

"Uh huh. You know, arrive at your house to keep you company?" She was bright scarlet. Bryan watched with a perplexed interest. Events were moving too fast for him now. For heaven's sake, he had only just rediscovered how to laugh! "Or maybe I could talk to the girlfriend, and leave you and Tala to talk or do whatever it is you boys do."

"Oh. Ok."

"So, can I come over?"

"Ok."

-----

"Tala, what did I agree to?"

"Oh, this is hilarious! I never thought I'd see the day, Bryan!"

"No, I'm deadly serious, Tala, what did I agree to?" Tala controlled his laughter long enough to choke out,

"She fancies you, Bryan. What you agreed you was supposed to show your interest." He bent slowly over, laughing so hard that no sound came out. "Can't … breathe …" he wheezed.

Bryan had gone very white.

-----

Ming-Ming stared up at Bryan. She felt heat rush over her face and cursed her embarrassing crush.

"Hiya!" she said, a little too loudly, a little too high-pitched. Bryan raised his eyebrows at her.

"Hey. You gonna … come inside, or whatever?" Nervously, she stepped past him and into the small, poky hallway. Her elbow brushed against his chest and she felt another burning shock of heat race through her.

She noticed the tall, curvaceous girl standing next to Tala and stiffened.

"Hi." she said icily.

"Hi. What a pleasant surprise." came the brittle reply.

The two boys stared, nonplussed, at the fiery looks passing between the two girls. Suddenly, Tala smirked.

"Isn't this nice? We've managed to bring the two strongest girls in beyblading face to face for the first time." A matching smirk settled on Bryan's face, and they leant on the wall to watch the show.

-----

Julia seethed inwardly, looking at the fifteen year-old that had stolen her fame as the best.

"Ming-Ming, isn't it?"

"Yes. Julia, right?" The blue-haired girl had changed, in some indefinable way. Her nervous, defiant look had become cool, haughty, one hand resting softly on her hip as she openly looked Julia up and down. The look of dismissal in her brown eyes was clear as she turned away. True blading royalty, with the ego to match.

The two girls broke their stare at exactly the same point, with comical scorn on their faces. Tala sniggered, and stepped forwards to put an arm round Julia's waist.

"Meal's ready." he called, alerted by the beeping of the timer. The two redheads went into the kitchen, leaving Bryan and an icy Ming-Ming to follow, slowly and reluctantly.

-----

The meal over, Tala, as he put it, felt in need of another appetite sated. Julia stood up and cast a triumphant glance at Ming-Ming.

Look who's getting some. the look said smugly. Ming-Ming glared back, trying to stop herself from shrinking down into her chair. Without the conceit of Her to boost her confidence, the older, taller, stronger girl was more than a little frightening.

"Quit it, Julia!" Bryan snapped suddenly. Green eyes blinked at him, bewildered, then light dawned. Julia grinned broadly.

"Aren't you a lucky girl, sweetie?" she commented dryly. Ming-Ming refrained from replying, puzzling over what on earth she could mean.

"Julia, hurry up!"

"Coming. Who's desperate tonight, then?" With the air of a woman who knew everything, she swept out of the room.

-----

Silence fell, and Bryan shifted uncomfortably. Normally, he was fine with silence. Silence was good. But … not this one. It felt expectant. As though something was just waiting to happen.

But what? He groaned mentally. This was not good. He looked at the girl sitting opposite him, and she looked back.

The sudden, sultry glance sent a rusty, unused part of Bryan's brain into action, and suddenly he knew exactly what was about to happen. Ice Ming-Ming, as he had mentally christened her, rose from the seat and he stood to join her.

Their lips met. There was no hesitation from either party, no uncertainties. Instead, there was hot, burning desire, passion that neither of them knew existed in each other, let alone themselves. Bryan tried to undo the buttons on her top, but, finding it too time-consuming, found a weak point and ripped. His own shirt had followed a similar fate, as cool, slender fingers running over his chest and down his back proved.

Feeling Ming-Ming's supple, willing body pressed to his, the next step was taken almost without thinking. Then again, and again, in a pounding rhythm that jarred the floorboards and matched the thudding of his heart.

-----

Bryan let out a tired grunt and rolled off the soft, warm, sticky girl underneath him.

"Bryan?" He looked down, and a child's eyes met his. Soft, tender chocolate, as unlike Ice Ming-Ming's as they could possibly be while still belonging to the same person. These eyes were hazy, but not with desire.

With bewilderment. With shock. With pain. And with fear.

Bryan shoved himself upright, threw her clothes at her, watched unseeing as his mind raced and whirled.

What have I done?

(stares)

Don't kill me? Please? (hides as confidence takes a bungee-dive into the Rift Valley)

It really wasn't supposed to end like that. At all. Not at all Christmassy … (stares again)

I actually have no idea where that came from. Hey, at least it had both Bryan/Mimi AND Tala/Julia! (is grabbing at straws)

It was going fine until he invited her over … Blame Bryan!!! (points) I might do a sequel for this at some point: I need to get my teeth back into some hardcore angst.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this, Lamb! Up 'til the twisted ending, anyway …

Review? (shrugs and hands out chocolate money)