Disclaimers apply. I do not own Macross Frontier or anything related to the Macross franchise. This piece of fiction was inspired by the awesome Jayne Ann Krentz and is dedicated to all my Skullfaerie comrades, old and new.
This Frontier place was a pretty sight, Sheryl mused to herself. It was not at all like the slums in Galaxy. In fact, there were no slums at all! Then again, she had so far seen only a small portion of the city to make such a claim.
Grace had eventually given up and told Sheryl to do whatever she wanted as she moved her schedules like the miracle worker she was.
"Just make sure, you get some inspiration to write a few songs."She had said with much seriousness. "You might as well have something productive to do while on this foolish hunt."
Sheryl brushed off her manager's words, as she read the piece of paper Grace had provided for the nth time. Grace had done some of her magic to pinpoint the exact location of Alto, or rather the computer he was using, by exploiting his IP address and doing other technical stuff that Sheryl would not really care much about.
It seemed that Alto frequently used a computer in a place called SMS, most probably where he worked. That was a good place to start. She began to wonder what kind of uniform he wore.
Smiling to herself—something she had been doing frequently—she turned to a shop window and checked on her disguise.
She had contemplated on dyeing her hair but chickened out on the last minute. A wig wouldn't have been able to hide all her hair unless she pulled a Britney Spears, so she settled for a black floppy hat, as well as a pair of sunglasses. Well, so far, no one had been able to recognize her, so her disguise was effective.
She began to hum as she hailed for a cab.
Saotome Alto was busy reading an interesting article about some old mecha anime franchise in a magazine.
He raised a skeptical brow. "How do crappy love triangles and music fit in with all this action?"
Suddenly bored, he closed the magazine and placed it back properly to the magazine rack. He picked up his empty plate that had been inhabited by a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch and padded over to the kitchen sink and washed it. He had discovered long ago that if you never picked up on the dishes, they were never going to be picked up at all. He was drying up the now-clean plate when he heard the doorbell.
His eyes looked heavenward.
"Who the hell could that be? And on my vacation, too…"
Setting the plate on the dish rack, he wiped his hands to his pants as he walked over to go greet the disturbance. When he opened the door, he was not prepared to find a woman standing there, especially one whose fashion choice involved a floppy hat and a huge pair of sunglasses.
Alto could see his surprised face staring at him in the dark lenses.
The woman gasped at his sight.
"Ara ara!" Her oversized shoulder bag slipped down to her elbow as she used two hands to cover her gaping mouth. Alto blinked.
"Err, can I help you?"
"You really are as beautiful as they say!"
Alto blinked again. Did she just—did she—had he heard her right?
"Excuse me?"
"I dropped by the place you worked but when I asked for you, they told me that the "princess" was on vacation. Is that a nickname of yours? If so, it's very fitting! I had always expected you would look ruggedly handsome but that doesn't matter. They were right, you are beautiful! If I didn't know any better, I would have mistaken you for a woman. A friend of yours, Michel, was kind enough to drop me off here, he told me to say hello for him."
To say Alto was shocked, would have been the complete understatement of the century. He stared at strange smiling woman, the words she had spoken weighed in his head. His stare eventually turned into a glare. He then asked, rather growled, a question any sane man would ask in his situation.
"Who the hell are you?"
She was not deterred by his scowl. Not one bit. This only freaked Alto more.
"It's me! Miss Fairy."
When Alto just continued to gawk at her like she was some cactus alien from space, she added, "You know, Miss Fairy. Fairy O nine at galaxy dot com?" She tilted her head to one side as she regarded his pretty face. She watched as the information slowly dawned on him.
"…That one who keeps asking about those earrings?" He cautiously asked.
She beamed and nodded her head. "That's right! We've known each other for four months now."
"Lady, we've just met."
"Eh! But we've been communicating for four months now," she pouted, slightly put off by his reaction. She then began to peer curiously inside the room behind him, "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?" It sounded more like a demand than a polite inquiry, like she had the very right to invade his home.
Alto narrowed his already narrowed eyes.
"Why should I?"
"Because if you don't…" She tapped a thoughtful finger to her chin, "I might be tempted to pull off a scene as a rejected woman begging for the man who impregnated her to accept responsibility. That would surely make the neighbors talk for weeks. But I'd rather we don't come to that, ne?"
…
…
"Come in."
"Hm?"
"I said, come in, please."
"Thank you." She walked inside his domain with a triumphant smile. Alto shut the door as soon as she entered. That threat she made still rang clear in his head. If he had not let her in, she would probably have done as what she declared. No doubt, this woman was dangerous, which brought him to question his own sanity for letting her in.
Sheryl surveyed the habitat of Saotome Alto and was immediately impressed by how clean the place was. Everything looked new and well-maintained. Magazines were filed in a perfect fashion in the rack. Books were precisely sorted and organized by color in the bookcases. On top of the bookcases were a bunch of plane models. She glanced over the chess game set up in a small corner table and noted how even the pieces looked neat and arranged. There was nothing out of place; everything was in perfect order. She certainly did not expect him to be a neat-freak. But despite the spic and span, she noted how the atmosphere had a dark and gloomy feel to it. Then again, it could just be the fact that the curtains were closed.
She shrugged out from her coat and tossed it to the couch, followed by her floppy hat. Alto looked unpleased at the small bundle of disorder on his couch but made no comment and simply picked it up to hang to his hall rack near the entry. He turned around just as Sheryl removed her sunglasses.
His eyes widened like saucers.
"You're"—
Sheryl held a hand up, her face stern.
"Saotome Alto, if you turn into a sniveling male fan who will grovel at my feet and wait on my every whim while singing my praises, I will immediately step outside and walk out of your life. If I wanted a human pet, I could easily just have my pick from the vast and lecherous crowd. I do not want you treating me like a celebrity goddess, do you hear me? I simply won't have it. I hope you put that to your understanding. Understand? Now, if you understand, say something."
She dropped her hand and waited for his response.
…
…
…
…
"THE HELL?!"
"Good! I'm glad you get it."
"You think I would grovel at your feet just because you're Sheryl Nome?!"
"Well, it's happened a lot."
"Well, don't expect the same treatment from me! Unfortunately for you, I'm not a fan."
Sheryl clasped her hands together at that statement, her face colored with delight. She looked as if he had proposed marriage or something.
"Oh, Alto. I just knew you were different from the moment we met."
"What? When you practically just called me a girl in front of my own house?"
"No! When you answered my post about the earrings," she said with bright joy. She sat down on his couch, feeling giddy with excitement. Alto remained standing. He looked as if he didn't know what to do. What does one do when a famous celebrity barges into your own home? Should he call the cops in the guise of ordering pizza? No, bringing the law in would only attract more trouble, especially when it involved a famous singer dubbed as the Galactic Fairy.
"I think I need an aspirin…"
"A cup of tea helps for a headache," Sheryl offered, which he ignored as he made his way through his kitchen. The woman was right at his heels. In the clinical order of his kitchen, he drowned in two aspirins with a carton of juice. He returned it inside the fridge, shut the door and turned back his attention to his unwanted guest, who seated herself to one of the ladder-back chairs. Her fingers were drumming on the kitchen table. She looked miffed.
Alto felt a shiver go down his spine.
"…What?"
"You shouldn't do that!"
"Do what?"
"Well for one, you drink water when it comes to pills and such not with juice or any other beverages. Grace told me it's bad for you."
"Grace?"
"Another. What really peeved me was how you were drinking straight out from the carton. How very inconsiderate for someone else who'd care for a glass of healthy organic orange juice..."
"Why? Did you want juice?"
"No. But what if I did?"
Alto gritted his teeth in frustration.
"You have to understand. I live alone and don't see the sense of using a glass when"—
"If we progressed to lovers, I wouldn't mind so much if you did that on a regular basis. But right now, we"—
"LOVERS?!"
Sheryl realized her mistake and brought a hand to cover her gasp.
"Ara ara, I guess I went a little fast there." She smiled, dismissing her little slip. "Anyway, we have plenty of time to talk about our relationship. Let's get down to another reason I'm here."
"Sheryl…"
"Yes, Alto?"
"Is there a hidden camera somewhere?"
"Fret not, Alto. This is no prank show. This is very much happening." She assured him.
"…Actually, I would have preferred this were a prank show."
"Anyway, have a seat," she offered like she was the owner of the house. Alto sat down, much safer than standing where he could collapse at any moment from the bolts of shock this woman kept sending his way.
"Alto," her face was bound to crack from all her smiling, Alto thought. "It's time."
"Time? Time for what?"
The seemingly-permanent smile remained as she dug up something from her oversized bag. She placed a clear plastic envelope protecting a sheet of paper onto the table. For the first time since she came from nowhere, Alto's face showed genuine interest. He examined it closely.
"This is…"
"A copy of the map to Mao Nome's earrings. The map was willed down to me. Mao Nome was my grandmother and the earrings are a family heirloom." her words then heightened with great enthusiasm. "Its time we go out and find them."
"We?"
"That's right. This will be our little project."
"It's already our project without my say?!"
"It was already our project the moment this idea came to me."
"And when the hell was that?"
"I believe I was taking a shower that time. I usually get great ideas inside the shower, you know."
Alto looked unwillingly fascinated but broke himself from that spell. With a surge of renewed anger, he shot up from his seat and glowered at her, hoping to intimidate her with his size.
"You think you can just waltz on over to me, wave a map in front of my face and expect me to agree to go with you on this treasure hunt?!"
Hmm…why did that sound familiar?
Alto ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, the action captivating Sheryl.
"You're one crazy woman…"
"Why?"
He stiffened. He shot her a look of murder. Then, snapped.
"WHY?! WHY?!"
Sheryl folded her arms and gazed up at him with disapproval. "I see no need to shout."
"There are a million reasons why!"
"…Like?"
"Well for starters, you don't know me! I could be an axe murderer for all you know! Maybe even a rapist or some guy who stalks celebrities!"
"Are you?"
"Of course not!"
"Then we have nothing to worry about."
Alto slapped his own forehead, wishing like hell that he could be out riding in the sky with Michel and Luca than being subjected into this vacation. Why was this happening? He should have never paid any attention in literature class back in high school, where they had been discussing various legends and myths. That way, he would have never been able to answer a certain post by a certain Miss Fairy. What the hell did he do to deserve all this?
Sheryl used his silence to talk.
"Anyway, I just knew it was time to go out and search for the earrings. I also knew that you would be the one to help me find them!"
"Why me?" There was a desolated edge in his voice. Sheryl ignored that.
"I'm not sure. But the moment I read your first message to me, I just knew it had to be you. I can't really explain it well—but my intuition just told me that you were linked to the earrings. I have great intuition you know. And the moment we started a regular correspondence, I knew I would like you very much. I hope you feel the same way about me."
Alto was speechless for some time but eventually opened his mouth.
"Sheryl, I'll be nothing but honest here….I don't know what to feel about you!"
"Well, you don't have to make up your mind this very instant."
"I don't? What a relief!"
Sheryl stood up from her chair while digging for a scrap of paper and pen in her bag. Alto frowned, watching her scribble down something.
"Here's the place where I'm staying right now. It's the hotel in the heart of the city, do you know it?" She handed him a small business card, with the written information at the back.
He scowled at it. "Of course I know it. I live here."
"Perfect," She grabbed the protected copy of the map, stuffing it carelessly inside her bag—defeating the purpose of the clear plastic envelope. "I expect you to pick me up at around seven sharp. Grace told me that there was a nice little restaurant nearby. We can settle the details of our association over dinner."
"Dinner."
"Yes dinner. You do eat dinner, don't you?"
"Yes I eat dinner but the point is…"
"Don't worry, it's my treat," Alto looked like he was about to protest when Sheryl pulled out a card every woman used to get their way.
Oh God, it was….
The dreaded puppy-dog pout.
Alto was no match.
"Please, Alto….this is really really important to me. I'm sure that once when you have plenty of time to think about it and discuss things over dinner, you'll realize that you do want to join me in this little adventure. I'm prepared to pay you a very generous wage. What do you say?"
…
…
"What if I said I had a girlfriend?"
"No, you don't."
"Damn."
"So, it's settled." Sheryl said with cheerful finality. She adjusted her bag and put on her sunglasses. Alto followed her to the front door after she collected her coat and hat. "I'll see you at seven, Alto." She tiptoed and gave him a peck on the cheek, which stunned Alto in disbelief. Sheryl opened the door and closed it on her way out.
Alto just stood there, staring at the closed door.
…
…
…
"What the hell just happened?"