In honor of OQ Prompt Part, I would like to introduce you to my new multi chapter which fits prompt 98: Robin tries to steal Regina's cab.
This story has been written partly for over 2 years but I swore myself I wouldn't post it until either Roses or PUS is finished. So until that happens, there won't be an update. However, I want to let you know that this is my baby and I'm really proud of what is going to come!
So I want to thank my beta waterbaby and Miles, as well as Isabela who encouraged me to write this years ago! I hope you like it! Enjoy!
Songs of Arrows
(1)
"This is the last call for passenger Ariel and Eric Nixe for flight BA 6567 to Barcelona. Please proceed to gate C 39 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Ariel and Eric Nixe."
"Security advice: Please do not leave your luggage unattended."
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. This is the pre-boarding announcement for Lufthansa flight 1996 to Cologne/Bonn. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you."
"Attention, Ladies and gentlemen…"
London Heathrow airport is crowded, noisy and loud just like she's expected it to be the moment she landed at the Queen's Terminal on a rainy Wednesday evening, jetlagged, grumpy and allergic to the overly British politeness she was greeted with before she even left the plane. Why could people not calm down? Perhaps it is because everyone is happy to be here, except for her. Maybe that's why she was one of the last people to leave the plane. No, it was rather because people were too stupid to stay in their seats and let the rest of the passengers leave row by row. She rolls her eyes. At least it is the same like in any other country.
Everyone is trying to reach the immigration counters and luggage bands before the others, elbowing their way through the crowd, stumbling over hand luggage and bumping against people who stopped for no reason in the middle of walking. Tons of tourists mixed with the locals, who seem obviously annoyed but would never say so, because they're British and friendly.
She ran into one of these people mere moments ago, a businessman whose first move after landing had been to turn his phone back on answering missed call after missed call.
"Sorry," he immediately excused her bumping into him and, oh yes, if she didn't think so before, she definitely was in England now. He would have apologized if she'd accidentally kicked him in the balls. Hello Britain, country of Queues and Politeness.
The man stared at her, obviously expecting an answer, but Regina didn't care. It would have been polite to apologize to the man, but she wasn't in the mood to, not right now, not when she already dreaded every step she had to take on this godforsaken island. Someone who just stops in the middle of a perfectly moving crowd doesn't deserve an apology anyway. Not from her, not when she is in a mood her former high school friend Ella Dalmatian liked to describe as "evil queen" mood. "You just have to look at people the wrong way like this and I'm sure they'll choke on the air they're breathing." She smirks.
After a horrible six and a half hour flight next to a whining toddler and a snoring old man who'd mistaken her shoulder for a pillow, incredible jetlag and a closed nose from the stupid air conditioning, Regina Mills doesn't care if she throws her 'evil queen' look at people. All she wants is to go to sleep in a nice warm quiet apartment - no, flat, her sister had insisted. Poh-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe. England can greet her tomorrow with its overly politeness, its English breakfast and tea time cookies; all she wants to do is sleep for heaven's sake! But no, there is immigration, there are crowds, she has to get her baggage and hope she will find her sister in the crowded airport. The sister who isn't looking forward to seeing her. Well, the feeling is mutual.
After finally reaching the queue for immigration, she is thankful the officers don't waste any time. Her passport is taken, she is glared at, a visa and work permit stamp is hammered into it and she is welcomed to the UK. Yeah, thank you very much. It is still a puzzle to her how her mother has actually managed to get her a work permit for the UK and the job at Olympus Events, but her mother has always had her ways to make things happen without having to so much as blink an eye or lift a finger.
After visiting the restrooms to relieve her bladder from the long flight - she always tries to avoid airplane restrooms like the plague after watching that one documentary on television one night years ago, only using it when really necessary - Regina changes into a fresh shirt, combs her messed up hair, which she put back into a messy bun, and reapplies her lipstick. She looks presentable. Not perfect, but perfectly presentable. Though the deep shadows under her eyes are evidence of her horrible flight, she thinks she looks decent enough to be identified as a human being.
There is no chance in hell she would meet her sister looking all banged up from an exhausting flight, not when Zelena made it a challenge to criticize her looks and behavior wherever she went. Just like mother. The two are so alike, she really wonders why Zelena left the U.S. after college to become a - quite successful as Regina has to admit - TV reporter in Britain. Being a 'public figure', as Zelena likes to call herself, gives her the reason to show up perfectly styled wherever she goes. One last look in the mirror makes her wonder if she should try to make a little more effort but decides against it. There will be spiteful comments coming her way anyway, so she should get it over with.
Sighing, Regina turns her phone on, grimacing at the three text messages she's received while being in the air. One telling her she is in the UK now - yeah thank you, she wouldn't have guessed otherwise - one from daddy wishing her fun and one from mother. She'd read that one tomorrow, she decides. Now if she doesn't want to pay horrendous prices for her next phone bill, she will have to get a British number as soon as possible.
Quickly, she texts a Landed! On my way to pick up my baggage! to Zelena's phone, hoping for a quick answer which she knows she won't get if her life depended on it. Indeed, she is aware her sister is less than pleased with her visit – and let's be honest she could have thought of a hundred better things to do than to go to London, but her mother has insisted. She remembers the phone call as if it's been yesterday. She had been in Cambodia that day, had just visited an orphanage, and had been emotionally vulnerable. As if her mother had known, she'd picked that exact moment to call.
"You can't keep on living like this, Regina! It's been over a year and a half, do something with your life for god's sake! I didn't pay for an Ivy League School education so you can spend your life hitchhiking through Asia!" Blah, blah, blah…
Regina grimaces at the thought but deep down knows her mother, and in the end her daddy who persuaded her to go after a long, heartfelt conversation, were right. Of course she will never tell them. London is a new chance for her after everything that happened and even if it means staying with Zelena for the first few months until she got settled with her new job and found her own apartment, she decides she will make the best of it. There has been another reason, one she hasn't told anyone. It is ridiculous, but, well, she's done it.
"Where are you taking me, August?" she laughed, as he pulled up the small motorcycle in front of a small restaurant in Pattaya. The city was crowded as ever in the evenings, heavy with noise and smells from the open kitchens on the street. God, she could really use some of those fried shrimps right now.
"To see a friend, Regina. Eh!" He called over to a boy who was waiting in front of the restaurant. He came running and with a few quick words, August made a deal with him to watch the motorcycle for the time being.
"Are you sure we can trust him?" Regina asked curiously, her hand clutching her bag closer to her body.
"I know him. I'm paying for his sister's education. He won't betray me," August reassured her smiling. "Come on, Reg!" He held out his hand, a smile on his face. That's what she liked about August, ever the gentleman, ever thoughtful.
The restaurant didn't look well visited, only a few spaces were occupied. It looked like most of the other restaurants she's visited during her time here, with rich red and gold colors, comfortable pillows on the floor and the smell of delicious food hanging in the air.
"I'm not gonna try the dog, August. I told you."
"We're not here for the dog. Come on, Reg, give me a little credit here."
"I gave you a little credit, when you thought it was a good idea to take me into the jungle on your motorbike and we ended up stuck in a mine field from the Civil War!" Regina reminded him. Now it was a good story to tell, but when they'd been stuck there and realized any next move could mean their death, it hadn't been funny at all.
"I promised you to get you out of there alive and I did."
"We were lucky I had my satellite phone with me so we could call for help. Technically I was the one to get us out of there."
"Well, it was my friend with the helicopter who got to us…"
Regina was about to swat him on the shoulder, when she suddenly sensed the room growing hotter and an intense shudder running down her back. The lights were dimming shortly, before they came back on fully.
"What the…" she stepped closer to August, who calmly wrapped an arm around her waist before he gave her a reassuring smile.
"Regina, may I present to you my friend The Dragon." A man appeared in front of them and Regina could swear he hadn't been there a second ago. What the hell was going on? He was old, long grey hair framing his face; his beard was braided and reached down to his belly button. The Dragon was wearing a traditional red and golden gown, which made him blur with the interior of the room. Perhaps that was why she hadn't noticed him before. He kept his hands folded in front of his chest for the traditional greeting and bowed slightly.
Regina felt August's arm around her loosen, greeting him back, urging Regina to do the same. She did, bowed down perhaps a little too low but she was still not an expert.
"You arrived with the moon, my friend." His gaze shifted toward Regina, an unrecognizable expression on his face. "She is just as you described. Her grace is admirable, quite regal, really, but her shine is clogged by clouds." He lifts his hand, caressing the air and Regina swears she felt a light touch on her cheek, but this was impossible! This whole thing was crazy.
"You have suffered, my dear, and you're trying to find your path again."
How did he… no. No, this was all a joke. She'd seen stuff like this happen on TV, with so-called Mentalists, who made general assumptions to people. Honestly, everyone was struggling with something right now, most people she knew were trying to find the right way in life. Just because this guy told her, didn't mean he knew anything about her.
August guided her over to a nearby table where they sat down on the ground on one of the comfortable pillows. It took a while until the tea was prepared in one of the traditional ceremonies. None of them talked and only when they were allowed to take the first sip, Regina felt herself relax a little in the presence of the weird old man.
"We will visit the orphanage in two days," August explained. "I think this year we will finally be able to lay the foundation for the school in the village. I contacted some friends in Singapore and they are willing to send some funds our way."
The Dragon nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "You work hard to redeem yourself, my friend. The stars are in your favor lately and will be for some time if you keep on the right path. Watch out for Jupiter."
"I am trying." Regina raised an eyebrow in question but didn't say anything. She knew about August's troubled past, but only bits and pieces, whatever he was willing to share with her in the few months they'd gotten to know each other.
"Your paths will part soon. But it's necessary - for both of you."
"What is he talking about?" Regina whispered, her eyes locked on the old man in front of her who suddenly shifted his eyes and was now staring at her. A shudder crept up her back, her hand reaching out for August's under the table.
"Life is a constant ebb and flood, my dear, both influenced by the moon. But your life, ratshini…"
"Actually it's pronounced Reg…" she wanted to say but August shut her up with one quick look. The Dragon smiled at her.
"Your moon is clouded. Don't worry… The clouds will lift when Regulus shines the brightest."
Regina snorted. Seriously, she never heard anything as ridiculous before. Except maybe that time Ella was high after she unknowingly ate a whole batch of self-made pot brownies, which originally had been for a college party. The moment she'd decided to skin Regina's stuffed toy puppy in order to use the fabric for her textile design class, Regina had locked her in the bathroom. "Uhuh- and when will that 'call' be?"
"When the time is right…"
Two days later they visited the orphanage and then she received the call. She never thought it would be her mother of all people, when it happened though. Well, a call was a call and maybe it was for the best. Maybe it really was time to do something new - and she promised August to raise some funds for the school in the little village with the orphanage they visited. They are still in contact, August and her. Sporadically, but they keep each other updated. In case her employers at Olympus Events will listen, she could organize a charity fundraising for August's project.
One thing at a time, Regina. Before you plan a whole fundraiser, you need to get out of the damned airport.
Xxxxx
Her baggage will arrive on conveyor belt seven. Most people she recognizes from her flight are already waiting but it hasn't started to turn just yet. Regina checks her phone, not surprised to have still not received an answer from Zelena. One by one, pieces of baggage drop onto the conveyor belt and people fight their way to the front in order to pick it up. She keeps an eye out for her big red suitcase but with her luck, it will probably be the last one on the belt. Scratch that. The flow of baggage slows to a trickle, then stops. With her luck it turns out, her baggage didn't come at all.
Annoyance is now mixed with anger as she makes her way to the baggage claim office, where she has to wait a short time until she is the next in line. The woman hears her complaint, gives her a missing baggage claim for to fill out and tells her to drop her things by once she is finished. Regina makes sure to fill it out, take a picture with her phone and gets a copy from the office with the promise that they will call her the moment they find her luggage. Great, just great. It isn't like almost all her damn belongings and toiletries are in the suitcase. She will have to make sure to go shopping tomorrow and send a hefty bill to British Airways.
With a tight grimace and only her carry-on left (thankfully she's packed a few pieces of change and clothing in there in case of emergency), Regina makes her way toward the exit of the busy airport. Even one hour later, Regina hasn't received an answer by her sister, which doesn't surprise her, but leaves her feeling kind of lost and stranded in the new country. Even though they speak the same language - apart from the accent of course - the country feels so… different. When she went to Thailand she hadn't known what to expect, but that had been okay. This… now… this is supposed to be her new life, her new home. It is okay to feel a bit anxious, isn't it?
Sighing, the brunette flips her phone open, swallows as she thinks of the fees, but then decides to call her sister. The first time she tries, she is met with no one picking up after ten beeps. The second time is quite similar, but Regina won't let go of the issue, so she tries a third time and is finally met with a sharp "What?!" after the third beep.
"Zelena, how nice of you to finally take notice of me." She can practically see her sister roll her eyes at her.
"I'm busy, Regina!"
"And I'm at the airport waiting for you to pick me up like you said you would."
"Yeah, well, I have to work tonight." As if that is as good excuse as any. "Take a damn taxi and don't call me again! I'm having an important interview."
Her sister hangs up before she can reply anything, which leaves Regina seething with annoyance about her oh-so-perfect sister. Even though her phone is not at fault, she throws it into her purse while searching for her notebook. She has the address written down somewhere, which means she can take a cab - and have Zelena pay the bill. The thing is just, as she exits the terminal she finds the latest rush of passengers has already beat her with the cabs.
Luckily though, there is one - the last one before the new round rolls in it seems - in the far back, with the Indian driver sleeping behind the wheel. Of course no one has woken him, politeness and all. Well, it is time she changes that.
Since it has started raining - something she will surely have to get used to in England - she hurries over to the cab, tapping at the driver's front window with her forefinger. The man doesn't move an inch. She is contemplating to knock once again, when in the corner of her eye, she sees a man rush toward the cab and rip the door open, making the driver jolt awake and start the car immediately.
"Hey!" Regina yells, ripping the back door of the driver's side open in order to vent at the man who just hijacked her cab. He is already sitting in the back, seat belt on, telling the driver the address. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Blue eyes shot up at her, a surprised look on the man's face. If she weren't mad at him, she might have noticed how attractive he is, but he is in the moment of stealing her cab and she will not let that happen.
"Sorry Milady, but I need this cab desperately," he answers cheekily, flashing a smile at her that could melt icebergs. Too bad she is a seething volcano right now, ready to explode. "Sir, I need you to drive me to…"
"The fuck will he do!" she yells at the man, who only raises an eyebrow at her cursing. Her mother would have her head for it if she knew, but thankfully, no one is there to tell her. "Who do you think you are, you big-mouthed, cab stealing, arrogant prick?!"
"You… you don't know who I am?" He seems surprised, almost baffled to say the least.
She lets out an annoyed breath. "Sorry, Mister. I've had the worst flight ever, my sister left me stranded at the airport, my baggage is lost, I am tired and I haven't had any dinner yet, because the airplane food is not edible. So unless you're the Queen's next dog sitter or hat maker - get out of my damn cab!"
He looks up at her, obviously shocked and amused at the same time, before he undoes his seatbelt and scoots over.
"I said get out."
"We can share the ride." No.
"I'm not sharing with you," Regina insists, still standing at the opened car door. The rain is increasing and she slowly feels the wetness seep through her clothes.
"Then wait for the next taxi, because I'm not moving."
"This… this is… This is not acceptable! Sir, I want you to remove this man from your vehicle immediately. Or I'll file a complaint!"
The driver just shrugs, telling her he was in first, so technically it's his cab. As she looks back at the other man and notices his smug grin, she wishes she could throw something at him and set his butt on fire. This is so incredibly rude - coming from a Brit.
"Where do you need to go?"
"What?" Regina blinks, all wrapped up in her fantasy of wiping that smug grin off the guy's face with a big, fat lawsuit. Oh, she will call Ella, and Ella will rip his skin off and...
"I was asking where you need to go. I'll pay for your ride."
"What makes you think I would share the cab with a cab-stealing stranger."
"Your other option is to wait for the next taxi - and hopefully not be completely soaked by the time it arrives."
Regina contemplates his offer, knowing full well she should make a decision now or her immune system will thank her tomorrow by giving her a cold and possibly a bladder infection. Sophisticated British asshole. But after all… he offered to pay the ride.
"Bite me," she mumbles, as she heaves her carry-on into the cab and gets seated opposite of him on one of the folding seats. There is no way she will sit next to him or even look at him.
"I'm fairly certain that would be inappropriate, especially in a taxi. We've only just met and I'm certain there is a law about it or something. Also, a simple thank you would suffice."
He receives a glare, while she smashes a "To Queen's Grove number 815!" at the cab driver, who lets out a sigh, mumbles something in a language she can't identify before he finally drives off. Regina crosses her arms in front of her chest, staring out the window. After over six hours on a horrible flight, she is sure she can manage 45 minutes in a cab with an idiot.
