Author's Note I want to give a big thank you to those of you who actually managed to dig this little fiction out of the pile and review it so kindly.
MysticDiamond
CrayolaxSmiles
Bomba-Fae
Stagedoxy
It's because of you guys that this next chapter is going up. I never even expected this to go anywhere, thank you so much for taking the time to read it and bringing it to life. Hopefully I'll be able to keep this going with more readers. MysticDiamond, you were hoping for more with Khashoggi, and it just so happens I think you might like this chapter. ;)
Enjoy.
On Wings of Lead Ch. 2
Once the sobs had died down, she remained where she sat, staring out at the window. It didn't even dawn on her when someone had opened the door to her office, and it suddenly clicked that they weren't supposed to be in there. Quickly wiping her eyes, wanting no evidence of any kind of emotion, she turned a hostile look over her shoulder.
"What the hell are you—" She stopped dead in her tracks when she looked over her shoulder and saw the grey M&S suited Khashoggi standing over her. He had taken his sunglasses off, and Killer Queen was looking at his eyes for probably the first time ever.
"Khashoggi," She muttered, partially stunned. She rose to her feet, hands on her hips but she couldn't look at him. Khashoggi, who had managed to make his way out of the Seven Seas of Rye, had heard about everything. He'd managed to catch the Killer Queen's face in time to see that she'd been crying. He couldn't recall ever seeing her cry. He didn't even know if she had it in her. But this was definite proof. But he cared about her, no matter how much she had abused him in the past, he still cared.
"Madame, if I may dare request, I'd like to be Commander Khashoggi again," He said. Killer Queen gave a light, unhappy scoff. It wasn't entirely a scoff, it was the only sound she could make by keeping the lump in her throat at bay.
"So you heard what happened," She said. She was wary, now, even of her own ex-commander. Khashoggi, hands behind his back, nodded slowly, his dark eyes sympathetic.
"I did, Madame, and I say in all honesty and sincerity that I am truly sorry," He said. For some reason he got the hunch there was more to it than that. Regardless of how much she loved the company, Killer Queen wouldn't ever cry over it. Could it be possible there was more to Commander Rathbone than Khashoggi realized?
Killer Queen didn't look at him, but nodded slowly. Two fingers were pressed to her lips, and Goddamnit, she knew she was just moments away from crying again. She absolutely hated it. She hated feeling this vulnerable.
"I made a mistake from the get-go, Commander," She said. For a moment, she felt sick even saying the word. Rathbone's face came to mind almost immediately, but she shoved it back. Khashoggi was semi-stunned for a moment. Killer Queen never admitted to making a mistake. If she did it ended in an insult toward him, but he didn't sense that coming. It seemed genuine this time. "I should have seen deceit from the beginning when that bastard first came in. I usually can. But I let him,"
"Madame, you're sharp as a tack and incredibly good at reading people," Khashoggi said. "Rathbone was a slimy little conniving rat. Nobody could have seen it."
Killer Queen shook her head. She still didn't make eye contact with him. "He lied. On so many different levels he lied to me, made me believe things that weren't even true. He made me believe that he actually—" Her voice broke off. It suddenly dawned on Khashoggi what had happened. That was the reason why she was taking this so hard. Rathbone had actually managed to seduce the Killer Queen. Rathbone never loved her to begin with, but by the way she was taking this, Khashoggi was sure that for the first time in her life, Killer Queen had actually fallen for Rathbone and cared so greatly for him. Khashoggi moved toward her immediately, his eyes sympathetic.
"Oh, Madame," He said softly. She was struggling to keep it together, he could see that. What really tore Killer Queen up, too, was that she could actually see that he cared. His was genuine, it had been for all these years. What had she done?
"God, I was stupid." She muttered, her face in her hands. Khashoggi gave in. He did something he'd wanted to do for so long but was terrified of doing. He moved toward her and put his arms around her. Killer Queen stiffened at first, reminded of the touch of Rathbone, but Khashoggi's was indeed different. It broke her heart that he actually did care.
More confident once realizing that Killer Queen hadn't and wasn't going to lash out at him for touching her, he still held her. Feeling the lump rise in her throat, feeling the reassurance of male arms around her that weren't Rathbone's, but familiar ones, Killer Queen's eyes welled with tears. It was release, more than anything. Letting her head fall against his shoulder, she let those damnable tears fall again. In return, her arms slid around him in return as she cried on the shoulder offered.
Khashoggi froze for a moment. Years had gone by since Khashoggi first started working for Globalsoft. Never once did he ever think he'd ever see this side of her, but it didn't change the way he saw her in any way. It kind of terrified him that he was actually holding her, but he cherished this moment. His hand ran gently up and down her back in a reassuring manner. He never in his life thought he'd be touching her. But here she was, accepting comfort offered to her. Khashoggi wondered for a moment if he was the first one that had ever tried to comfort her.
The quiet sobs died down and were eventually nonexistent. Killer Queen remained in Khashoggi's arms, her head still sideways against his shoulder. Khashoggi didn't move, his eyes staring at the wall behind them, but was a calm presence. That was all she needed at the time. Only someone. She couldn't handle anyone judging at the moment. Seeing the Killer Queen cry was enough to bring a murmur about all of Planet Mall, and that wasn't something she was about to allow. But she felt comfortable around Khashoggi. He was someone familiar and just simply there. He cared about her and was willing to put aside the vision she held of being the fierce, eloquent, feared leader everyone saw her as, and accept that she was only human. She had a feeling Khashoggi felt that all along, but by the way she treated him, he simply cowered away. Now she was wracked with guilt because of that.
But she felt something she never thought she would with Commander Khashoggi. She actually felt safe with him. A feeling rarely endured by Killer Queen. She realized quickly she almost never completely felt safe or content. Her iron will and hard exterior made her able to live past it, to numb it almost. But Rathbone had stripped that hard veneer from her, and now that insecurity was out in the open. She hated it. Absolutely hated it. But she pulled away lightly, and Khashoggi willingly dropped his arms. As Killer Queen finished composing herself, Khashoggi studied her for a moment. He didn't dare ask if she was going to be alright. He felt as though that was overstepping boundaries, and he felt like he had created a whole other threshold for himself with her. He didn't want to push it. And a part of him knew that she'd be alright. It was the Killer Queen, she always came out fine. But Khashoggi suddenly found himself feeling protective. She was a human being, a woman with her own insecurities and emotions. The man in Khashoggi, because he did care about her, maybe more so than he should, was worried about her.
"I'll leave you to your business," He said with a nod. Killer Queen nodded slowly, hands on her hips. As Khashoggi turned to head toward the door, Killer Queen looked up.
"Khashoggi."
Khashoggi stopped in his tracks and turned, somewhat surprised that she had actually called him back. "Yes, Madame?"
"I'm appointing you Commander again." She said, her tone suddenly firm. "No ifs, ands or buts."
A smile of relief slid across Khashoggi's face but he tried to hide it. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Madame," He responded. With a respectful nod, he turned back out the door, leaving the Killer Queen to herself, with her mind racing. It would continue racing whenever what happened with Rathbone came to mind, but thinking of Khashoggi brought that to ease in the slightest. She slid down into her chair at her desk. Khashoggi had actually gathered his nerve and tried to comfort her. And he had. Killer Queen couldn't remember the last time before Rathbone that she actually felt safe with someone like that. She hadn't really, with Rathbone. But was it possible that she was actually seeing her Commander Khashoggi in a different light?
:.:
A day had gone by since Rathbone's arrest, and Killer Queen was worse than ever. She was temperamental, an ignited fuse. The word "dynamite with a laserbeam" was now multiplied by about ten. Nobody dared go any farther than cross her path. Khashoggi gave her space, which she was grateful for. He didn't act afraid of her, like most of the Yes people and Yuppies did. In fact almost eighty percent of them knew well what she was capable of in this kind of mood. She made her way down into the dungeon where the purple-haired girl sat in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest and arms draped over them.
"Open it," Killer Queen said sharply to the GaGa policeman. The officer just about jumped out of skin, but nodded, quickly deactivating the door to the laser cage for the Head CEO of Globalsoft to enter. The girl looked up, shooting a venomous look in the Killer Queen's direction.
"Piss off," She growled. Killer Queen smirked.
"You've got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" Killer Queen said, standing in the corner. "What did that fool call you again? Scary Bush?"
A pained look came across the girl's face and she blinked fiercely. Killer Queen realized she was blinking back tears. Once they had gotten all the information out of Galileo Figaro, he'd been killed. Killer Queen had gotten word of it just the other day.
"Scaramouche," The girl said, swallowing, her tone fierce. "He didn't deserve what you did to him."
"Didn't deserved what we did to him?" Killer Queen scoffed. "He led a whole rebellion against Globalsoft! He created more problems for us than he was worth. We couldn't have blown his mind, we had to get rid of him once he gave us all the information we needed.
"He fought for what he was passionate about!" Scaramouche shouted. Furious, grief-stricken tears spilled down her face now, but her tone was furious. "He was the Dreamer! All he wanted was music to be brought back, he wanted to break free and let people live normal lives, and you killed him!"
"What more could we have done?" Killer Queen said, her eyes narrowed. "He brought the Bohemians into a further stronghold. Globalsoft was almost destroyed. And we have music, he was wasting his time."
"You have crap if that's what you're talking about!" Scaramouche snarled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "He was fighting for the mighty Queen, he wanted to make things right. He was the only person I ever met like that and I loved him, now look what happened! You people don't know shit!"
"So that's what you're upset about? Because we killed your boyfriend?" Killer Queen said, arching a perfectly penciled eyebrow, hands on her hips. "Listen, honey, he's better off. He wanted to kill himself to begin with."
The same stunned, disgusted, hurt look came across Scaramouche's face. "Are you bloody stupid?" She spat. "He wanted to die because of what the world's been turned into! This gave him a reason to live! He was going to be a great person!"
"Great person, my ass," Killer Queen scoffed. "We all know what they turn into."
"You're going to sit there and tell me that you've never lost someone you loved?" Scaramouche spat, tears streaming down her face again. "You go see what it's like and fucking come back and tell me what it feels like, then maybe you'll be more of a human being and be respected further, instead of having some wanker turn and rob from the company."
Killer Queen was taken aback by that comment. Her blue eyes turned to slits as they flashed dangerously. But Scaramouche's comment was like a kick in the gut.
"You don't know the first thing about what happened," She snarled. "Watch your mouth before you go making assumptions. The Dreamer is dead, we don't need you for anything. If you want to keep your precious life you'll keep your mouth shut, girl."
"Oh? Did I strike a nerve? Who would have thought?" Scaramouche said bitterly. "I know enough about what happened, Gaz…Gaz and I saw the whirl of activity when the company found out that that idiot stole the vy-day-o—"
"Video," Killer Queen corrected irritably. Pop, I swear…. "Yes, of course, it was catastrophic. I trus—we trusted Rathbone with our assets and he betrayed us. As for my personal affairs and whether or not I've ever—er—it's none of your business."
"What was that first sentence?" Scaramouche countered. Goddamnit, she had Killer Queen in a corner, now. The girl was smarter than she was made out to be. "You trusted Rathbone? With more than just assets, maybe?"
"That is none of your business." Killer Queen snapped. "My affairs—MY BUSINESS—with Rathbone was not anything to be discussed. It was nothing more than an employee betrayal."
"Right," Scaramouche scoffed. She turned her head, determined not to show this kind emotion to the Killer Queen. But Killer Queen was shaken, now. The girl had done a damn good job of rattling her. She glared at the girl, and motioned to the guard to open the laser cell door. Killer Queen turned her head to look at the girl.
"Just watch yourself," She snarled. "You're of no use to us. You'll be lucky if you stay alive."
"Who gives a shit anymore?" Scaramouche retorted, tears streaming down her face. "Galileo Figaro was my reason for living and now he's dead. Kill me if you want."
Killer Queen found it painful how easily she related to that sentence in a way. But showing no kind of response, she had the cage door shut behind her. Making her way up the steps, out of sight from the guards, she stopped just at the top, leaning against the wall. Her stomach was in a knot. Her mind had gone well past the point of just seeing Galileo Figaro as the Dreamer, who'd caused so many problems for them, but he was now the lover of that girl, who now had no one in this world. Killer Queen remembered distinctly being that age. What had she done?