Did someone say I have the dumbest OC on the planet!? How dare-!? Actually that was me. And it's true.

You're still reading this? You are so cute. Well, have fun. Sorry if I messed anything up.


"What d'ya think?" Kei grinned, giving a twirl. Daiba held a hand across his face to hide his blush. The sapphire blue dress barely reached mid-thigh, and even then a slit cut up on each side, exposing more of her leg than the teen could ever feel comfortable seeing.

A sky-blue sash was draped over her arms and shoulders which offered little covering for the large area of exposed chest. Daiba thought the piece barely covered what it needed to, and he was a blushing mess because of it.

The captain just frowned in disapproval.

"It'll certainly grab the boys' attention," Anita laughed. "You look lovely, dear."

"Thank you," Kei cooed.

Her hair was tied up in a shimmering ponytail, stray ringlets falling down by her ears. Blue eye shadow and a light dusting of blush highlighted her features. She was pretty, Daiba thought. She was just a bit exposed. Maybe he'd gotten lucky with his dress.

"Let's go," Harlock ordered curtly. "We're already running behind schedule."

The car was a sleek black beast, blending neatly into the backdrop of night. Daiba stared in awe of it. The thing must have been cost quite a few arms and legs. "Can I drive?" he asked dreamily.

The captain didn't hesitate. "No."

"I think we want to make it through this alive," Kei agreed.

The unlicensed teen pouted as his superior dragged him into the back seat with her. She then quickly urged him to cross his legs "You need to learn how to sit in a dress," she giggled.

His blush returned with a vengeance.

As they drove, Harlock tried to block out all of the pointers his youngest crewman was being given in the back seat about being a proper lady. They all seemed to go completely against his own advice.

"But I don't want to dance with a guy," Daiba huffed.

"But they'll want to dance with you," Kei countered. "You can't say no. That would be rude. Unless he's a creep. Then you can say no."

"They're all creeps," Harlock grumbled. Most of them did work for the government. That made them pretty low in his book.

"It's just a dance," Kei countered. "You do know how to dance, right Dai- Takako?"

"Uh…"

"You should come in so you can teach him, Captain!"

Harlock sighed, wondering just what on earth was going through his female crewman's head.

Apparently everyone was arriving fashionably late, because they had to wait in line to get the car up to the entrance. Kei took the opportunity to get their ear pieces set up and adjusted. "Remember," the captain said, his voice echoing slightly in their ears. "Stay focused on your job. If a single one of those men goes back to his office and gets on his computer, we're sunk."

The younger pirates nodded. Luckily there were only five men they particularly needed to keep their eyes on.

When they reached the drop-off point, the captain stepped out and opened their door for them. Daiba found it a bit funny to have him acting as a sort of servant. "Behave," the man muttered under his breath.

The front steps were a sleek marble, leading up to massive oak doors. They were open, revealing the warm bustle of the party inside. Kei's black heels echoed sharply against each step. Daiba's shoes made little clicks. He stared at them as he walked, his face burning.

"Chin up," Kei whispered. "Come on, little sister, we own this place."

Her enthusiasm wasn't doing much for his self-esteem. God, this was humiliating.

Stepping inside bathed them in yellow light from the numerous chandeliers of the high, ornate ceiling. A swarm of conversation arose from the crowd, the orchestra highlighting the mood with a light waltz. Men mostly wore tuxes, the women shimmering cocktail and floor-length dresses of every color.

The door guard let them in without trouble, checking the list they'd hacked earlier. After scoping out a table, Kei allowed Daiba to sit away from the crowd. He watched the spinning couples on the dance floor without interest as she went to grab them something to drink.

"Found one," she noted through the buzzing bug his ear. "It's Russo. You see any?"

His eyes darted about curiously over the groups all across the hardwood floor. "There's the rest," he muttered. "They're all at that table by the food." Not surprising really. They all looked like they were pretty fond of eating.

"Good," Harlock said. "Hopefully they'll stay there."

"Excuse me."

Daiba nearly jumped out of his chair. He whipped around to see a guy slightly behind him, smiling tentatively. "Oh, I didn't mean to scare you," he said. He was certainly a few years older than the teen, around eighteen. "Aren't alone, are you?"

"N-no," Daiba squeaked. "M-my sister's here."

"Oh? So you don't have a date then?"

Daiba's eyes widened in terror. Kei needed to get back right the hell now. "N-no, I don't have…a date."

"Oh my gosh!" Kei squealed. "That was fast. Hmm, hey, he's handsome."

"No," Harlock growled.

"Would you care for a drink?" the stranger offered.

"Well, my sister's already getting us some," the cross-dresser mumbled.

The voices in his ear chimed at the same time.

"No, let him get you something!"

"Don't take anything he gives you."

"Captain," Kei pouted.

"Kei," Harlock warned.

"Then would you like to dance?" the young man grinned winningly.

Daiba froze, his mouth hanging open as he searched for an excuse. Screaming for help was tempting. "I…don't know how to dance," he managed.

"Is this really happening?" the captain sighed.

"See? I told you," Kei laughed.

"Not a problem," the stranger purred, offering a hand.

Daiba's expression sunk into a scowl. Why was he even being so polite about this? "I don't want to dance," he huffed.

The young man blinked, the realization of rejection slowly sinking in. Anger screwed up his face, and he turned away sharply. "Bitch," he muttered, obviously intending to be heard.

"Did that bastard just call me a bitch?" the teen whispered, enraged.

"Okay, maybe he wasn't worth dancing with," Kei sighed.

"Kill him," Harlock ordered calmly.

The young man whose life was currently being threatened stormed off back toward the comfort of his group. He wasn't accustomed to being rejected. Every girl wanted a chance to be seen with the marine commander's son.

"That little bitch just shot me down," he snapped as he neared the group of young men.

"She looks pretty stuck-up," one muttered.

"Yeah, dressed like a prude," another agreed.

The youngest of the group finally noticed that they were discussing something and glanced down from the chandelier that had consumed his attention for the past twenty minutes. "Huh?" he questioned.

"Some girl just turned Lucas down, and he's pissed about it."

The young airhead earned himself a glare as he laughed. "That's great. It's about time someone told you no."

"Why don't you go try her out then?" Lucas snapped, knocking a thumb back over his shoulder toward the two girls that seemed to be arguing.

"Which one?" the younger blinked. "That really cute one?"

"No, the little prude."

He ruffled his feather-like black hair in confusion. "The one with the stockings? That's the one I was talking about. She's adorable!" The more he stared at the angry young lady, the more he liked her. Everything about her seemed different – dress, personality, that cute way she stamped her feet in irritation. She was already way more interesting than any of the girls his father had tried to hook him up with. He wasn't sure why he was blushing so much.

"You would be interested in that one," one guy snorted.

"I'm gonna go talk to her," the teen smiled, his stomach fluttering.

"Good luck," Lucas grumbled.

The sixteen-year-old was a bit tall for his age, and he stood almost unsteadily on his extended legs. The poor girl was a good foot shorter than him. As he strode up behind her, he worried he might scare the tiny thing. "Evening," he greeted. "You're-"

With a bright squeak of surprise, she spun and drove a fist directly into his gut. He staggered back with a wheeze. Christ, this girl could punch!

"T-Takako!" the older girl gasped.

"Don't sneak up on me," the younger snapped.

"Oh," he laughed through a wince. "Sorry. I just came over to apologize for my friend. He can be a bit of a hassle."

"Was he talking bad about me more?" Takako snarled. "Douchebag."

"Takako, watch your mouth," the girl in blue scolded. She was gorgeous, but the young man didn't find much interest in her.

"No, it's fine," the teen laughed again. "He really is, to be honest. Anyway, my name's Taro."

"You're just going to give me your first name?" the shorter girl frowned, crossing her arms. Despite having to look up toward him, she showed no signs of being intimidated.

"Ah, well…" He never was too keen on giving out his last name. People usually recognized that. "It's Fujiwara."

But instead of lighting up and suddenly swarming him in positive attention, Takako scowled. "You're not the prime minister's kid, are you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Hm." She started to turn away, but Taro grabbed her hand with a nervous smile.

"Um, could I have your name?"

"Didn't you just hear it?" She seemed irritated by his presence, by everything. His whole life he'd been a spoiled government brat. This was odd and new, but he found it exciting. Someone actually disliked him and wasn't afraid to show it. And she was cute to boot.

"But your full name," he pleaded.

"Takako Yuki," she huffed.

Even her name was cute. He grabbed her other hand, pulling them both up to grasp in his. "Would you please let me dance with you, Miss Yuki?"

"What is with people and this dancing thing?" she muttered. "I don't even know how."

"Neither do I!" he smiled. "I never went to my lessons."

"She'd love to dance with you," the girl in blue cooed. "Go have fun."

"What?" Takako blinked as Taro's smile brightened. He eagerly began tugging her toward the dance floor.

"It's okay. Dancing's easy," he nodded. "I kind of know the Waltz anyway."

"One dance," she spat.

One dance sounded like heaven to him. He'd never been much for dancing, but being with her, watching her scowl, it sounded like fun. He'd never considered himself a masochist, but maybe he was for this girl. Besides, there wasn't anything else to do here besides dance. The whole thing was just for show anyway.

Once they'd made it to the dance floor, she glared at the spinning couples surrounding them. Some were already drunk. Most were just doing it for appearances.

Taro took one hand in his own and urged her to place her other on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" she frowned, pulling his hand away from her waist.

"Well, that's proper dancing form."

"No."

"Where should I put my hand then?"

"Somewhere else. Wouldn't it make more sense if my hand was on your side and your hand was on my shoulder because you're taller?"

He considered it for a moment. "I guess it would, but I've never seen anyone do that."

Her scowl sunk further, her eye twitching. "Fine." Taro couldn't help but adore the stunning blush that overtook her face as he returned his hand to form.

They were both abhorrent dancers. Takako didn't utter a single apology for the many times she stepped on the taller boy's feet, though he would quickly splutter one each time he accidentally did. He didn't mind. Her feet were so small that it didn't hurt anyway.

Everything about her was so cute, and he was entranced by the unladylike way she stuck out her tongue to the side in concentration and stared at her feet as she danced. She didn't appreciate being twirled. The attempt brought the government brat a murderous glare. "You're adorable," he offered.

She ignored it. "How long is this song?"

"I'm not sure."

"I think those people are laughing at us."

"That's nice."

She frowned at him, and he smiled down at her until the song was over. As soon as the last chord began to fade, she darted away without a word. "Oh, wait!" Taro called. "Let me get you some food or something."

"Can people drug food?" Daiba hissed as soon as he was out of range.

"Of course," Harlock grumbled.

"Aww, you guys were cute," Kei countered. "You should stick with him."

"No," both males snapped.

"But he may have some good information on his dad."

"Information about what?" Daiba growled as he reached her. "He's a complete idiot. He's not going to know anything we could need." What they were after was the specs for the government's new weapons and the supposedly hidden research data of the killed scientists. That moron wouldn't know a thing.

"You never know. What if he does know something important? You wouldn't want to miss this opportunity. Maybe he's an idiot socially, but he's a brainiac when it comes to other things. Like you."

The youngest pirate remained silent as he tried to figure out whether that was a compliment or an insult.

"Just stick to the plan, Kei," Harlock ordered. "Everything we need we should get from their computers."

"But, Captain, I can keep an eye on all those men by myself. They've hardly moved, and two of them are already drunk. Let's see if Daiba can handle a little espionage."

"Do I have any say in this?" the spy in question asked.

"Daiba's right," the outside voice agreed. Daiba wondered if he'd ever heard that phrase from the captain before. "This is up to him."

Kei's gaze held a disturbing amount of psychotic glee as it turned on the smaller pirate. "Takako," she sang. "Do you remember that favor you owe me?"

The teen's spine shot rigid. "Y-yeah…" Why had he ever thought that Kei was nice? She was a demon, an absolute devil.

"Are you blackmailing him?" Harlock sighed.

Daiba bristled. Sure the captain didn't have any real rules on the ship, but there were certain things that he didn't need to know about. Kei had a bad habit of finding these things out. "Fine!" he cried. "I'll go talk to the dumbass!"

No matter how many times he'd heard "handsome" or "precious" or "adorkable" cooed from his earpiece, Daiba hadn't seen anything in Taro. Some form of muscle was hidden behind the awkward, tall frame that he still seemed to be getting used to. His face was a bit thin, matching his nose. The only thing that stood out about him was the lopsided smile that was as crooked as his father's policies.

Hell, Taro could have been the most attractive girl in the place, and Daiba still would have had a bad taste in his mouth. He hated the prime minister about as much as he hated the Mazone.

The older boy had placed himself beside the food, and his eyes brightened at the sight of Daiba stalking over to him. "I was afraid I'd offended you," he greeted.

"I'm offended every second I have to be near you," the pirate grumbled. Kei immediately scolded him.

Taro only laughed. Maybe he thought Daiba was kidding. "Well, do you want something to eat?"

"I can get it myself."

"I know."

The government brat seemed a bit too curious about everything Daiba chose from the lavish buffet. When the blond snapped at him about it, Taro smiled and said he just wanted to know what Takako liked. When the cross-dresser passed up the strawberries, the elder seemed disappointed.

"You don't like strawberries?"

"No."

"Aw, but you're as cute as one."

"Fruit isn't cute," Daiba growled.

"I wanted to feed one to you." He squeaked as the pirate's heel crushed his toes. "You're a lot stronger than you look."

"And you're a pervert."

Taro didn't seem put off in the slightest. "Really? I thought all guys fed things to their girls."

"I'm not your girl."

Harlock, again, ordered for there to be death.

"Of course you're not," the taller nodded. "I'm your guy though."

Daiba blinked, his brow creasing. "I don't remember claiming you."

"You don't have to. I decided I was yours." He took an olive from the blond's plate and popped it in his mouth. "This is awful," he frowned.

"Then why'd you eat it?"

"I'd never had one before. But I thought if you liked them, then they must be good."

"You are so stupid that it physically hurts to talk to you."

"That's nice," the taller smiled. "As long as I'm not boring."

"You're certainly not," the cross dresser grumbled.

Taro placed another olive on his plate to replace the one he'd taken then grabbed a plate of cheesecake. "What do you want to drink?"

"Don't touch my drink," the shorter snapped, grabbing a glass of water.

"Is he trying to?" Harlock growled.

"Don't think so," the young pirate sighed under his breath.

"Are you worried I'm going to put something in it?" Taro blinked curiously. "My friends do that sometimes, but I don't really know anything about it."

As if Daiba didn't already hate the group enough. "Your friends need to get their asses kicked," he spat.

"Yeah. I'm not very good at fighting though," the taller male frowned.

"Then I'll kick their asses for you."

Daiba spun on his heel, searching for the government bastards, but he was stopped by an arm hooking around his. "You're amazing, Takako," Taro cooed. "I've never met someone so violent before. But if you hit someone, you might get kicked out, and then I would miss you."

While getting kicked out sounded like a treat to Daiba, the captain could have gotten irritated about him not completing his mission properly. He glanced to the table of the officials. Most of them were too drunk to move from their seats without falling. Damn, why hadn't he volunteered for the data group? At least he could have felt useful.

Taro led him to a table and sat him down. "I'll let you beat my friends up later," he offered. "I know they deserve it."

"Sounds good. Why are you friends with them anyway?"

"I guess I'm not really 'friends' with them, but Dad said I should stay with them because they're good influences."

The blond picked up a rib, dripping with marinade. Damn rich people and their delicious food. "You don't believe that, do you?" he asked.

"No," the elder sighed. "But I don't have much choice but to do what my dad says. There aren't many people that are interested in being friends with me for reasons other than my position." He watched in awe as the girl began to gnaw on the rib, completely destroying the rules of all the etiquette classes he'd ever had. "You're going to get something on you dress," he warned, placing a napkin in her lap.

"I don't care. It's not my dress. It's my sister's."

The more mannered boy took another napkin and wiped some sauce from the other's cheek. "Maybe, but it looks great on you," Taro smiled. "I wouldn't want to see it get ruined."

Daiba batted his hand away. "Stop with the touching!"

"I can't help it. You look so soft," the brat hummed contentedly. His joy was cut off by the heel of a Mary Jane slamming back into his toes.

"No touching," the cross dresser hissed.

"I'm going to come in there," Harlock warned.

"They are fine," Kei countered. "Daiba's just being a baby."

"Can you tell me more about yourself?" Taro requested once his toes began to ease their throbbing. "I've never heard of the Yuki family. What business are you into?"

"U-uh," the blond stalled. "A-astronomy?" Damnit, he could have bothered to sound a little less unsure about himself.

"I didn't realize you guys could be so well off in that field."

"Well my dad…discovered some things."

"What sort of things?"

This was not going smoothly. He wondered why Kei was suddenly so quiet before her excited agreement to dance with someone swam into his ear. Before he could dig himself any further into his own grave, a young man stepped up between him and his guy.

"Didn't expect you'd actually stay with this one, Taro," the new addition snickered, hooking his arms around the couple's necks. "Are you actually going to get it in this time?"

The government brat turned a startling red. "I'm not interested in that," he huffed. "Now stop that. She doesn't like being touched."

The pirate waited tensely for the weight to be removed from his shoulders. Instead the new brat dragged him closer and leaned in. His breath reeked of alcohol, and Daiba tried his best to pull away. God, was everyone at this party drunk?

"Maybe she just needs to learn how to be touched," the male purred, removing his arm from Taro to place his hand on the cross dresser's knee. As the strangers touch began to move up his leg, under his dress, the pirate's vision flashed red. He shot out a wild punch, only succeeding in having his arm grabbed by the bastard. Since when could these morons actually manage themselves in a fight?

The blond found himself yanked to his feet and forcefully spun. The crushing arm around his middle kept his back to the larger male. "Aren't you feisty?" the bastard laughed, leaning down to breathe his words into the small pirate's ear. "I bet you'd be fun in bed. Just have to tie you down a bit."

Taro jumped up, barking in protest, but his friend shoved him back with a growl. "If you're not going to use her right, then I will. Not much of a rack on this one though." His hand went to the chest that Daiba so obviously didn't have. The blond desperately attempted to move in some way that would remove the leech, but the bastard was much stronger than him. He could only sit in a broiling rage as his chest was patted curiously.

"Oh," the male snorted. "Well, that's fine. As long as you scream pretty."

Daiba would have screamed a slew of obscenities, but his throat was too dry to make a sound. This couldn't actually be happening.

"Let go of her!" Taro demanded in an enraged horror. His elbow came up to slam into his friend's nose, smashing it to a bloodied mess.

"You bastard," the stranger hissed. Daiba managed to struggle enough to break free, but the pervert grabbed at his dress. The skirt tore upwards jaggedly as Taro delivered a punch to his friend's stomach. The pirate's dress was released as the stranger fell back.

Everyone around them was apparently too drunk to care, because not a single eye was on the blond as he shakily tried to rearrange himself. Only the brat turned to him once he'd made sure his friend wouldn't be getting up. "I'm so sorry," the elder teen attempted nervously. "Do you need anything? I can go get your sister."

Daiba shook his head furiously, quickly returning to his seat. He didn't want to make a sound. Kei and the captain couldn't know about this. He needed to make up a story.

Taro handed him his water, and he accepted the glass with a mumbled thanks. "You're sure you don't need anything?" the brat sighed. "I'm so sorry about your dress. If you want to have someone fix it, you can send me the bill."

Daiba shook his head again. He was fine. That was nothing. He just wasn't sure he'd sound fine if he tried to talk. He really, really hated everyone here.

The pirate didn't realize he was shaking until Taro gently touched his shoulder. He flinched away in a fit of trembling. "I'm going to go get her for you," the taller boy decided, carefully retracting his hand.

But as he turned, he found a slight tug on the hem of his sleeve holding him back. The small girl who'd spent the whole time pushing him away was too scared to let him leave. Her hand shook, just like the rest of her as she held tight to his jacket sleeve. A soft sniffle escaped her, and Taro sat back down. He really didn't want to see her cry.

"He's not worth getting upset over," the boy attempted. "You can kick him a few times if it makes you feel better. That way he'll wake up with bruises." He grabbed the plate of cheesecake that he hadn't bothered to touch and jabbed a forkful, holding it up to the frightened girl.

"Oh, I guess you don't want me to feed you," he began in a laugh. It was cut short as Takako placed the fork in her mouth. It was just an instant. Then she pulled away in embarrassment, downing her water. The government brat was sure it was the happiest moment of his life.

Until a hand clamped down on his shoulder and his girl's eyes widened. "Takako," a graveled voice greeted. Taro was pretty sure enough pressure was being applied to his shoulder to break it. His gaze slowly moved up to the monstrously intimidating man.

Maybe this guy was a bit young but… "I-is this your dad?" the brat laughed nervously.

Takako was apparently too stunned to answer.

"Yes," the man replied for her.

"I'm Taro Fujiwara. N-nice to meet you…sir."

"A pleasure." The man's lone eye bored into him in obvious disapproval. That possibly had something to do with his daughter being close to tears.

His other daughter stormed up, grabbing him by the arm. "Ca- What are you doing in here?" she demanded.

"I was checking on the two of you, and it looks like I needed to."

Takako tried again to hide the tear in her dress, but her sister quickly realized the problem. "There's a half-dead guy on the floor," the elder girl huffed. "This obviously wasn't Taro's fault."

"He should have stopped it from happening to begin wi-"

"Come on!" The girl in blue jerked him away toward the dance floor. "While you're here, might as well have some fun."

"But-!" the father protested.

"Leave them alone. They are doing much better without your help."

The two continued to argue as the girl forced her father to take form and begin a light waltz. The pair moved naturally around the floor while the male tried to hide his irritation. "They're both really good dancers," Taro frowned. He suddenly regretted not being a better dancer for Takako.

But the girl wasn't watching her family. She looked closer to falling asleep. She fought to keep her eyelids up, her muscles relaxing her tense shoulders. "Are you getting tired?" the brat asked.

"No…" she murmured. "Yes but… I'm not…"

She didn't jump like everyone else as the alarm sounded. Instead she fell forward, her glass slipping from her hands and clattering to the marble floor. Taro caught her, holding her up as the alarms blared around them.

"That's a code four!" he yelled in distress. "Emergency evacuation."

The hundreds of privileged drunks panicked all at once. There was a massive rush for the front door. There was no way they could get out that way easily, and Taro needed to get his girl somewhere safe. She was limp, only held up by his grip on her shoulders.

"I know a back door," he said, scooping her up. "I'll get you to a doctor."

She was muttering to herself, fighting to stay awake. "No…can't get out…can't move. I don't know…where I am. Wait…wait for me. No…you…have to…wait."

Taro stumbled through the back halls of the building, toward the forgotten staff exit. Well, his house was close. They had a personal doctor there. No guarantee she wasn't drunk too, but he didn't have many other options. Takako felt like a ragdoll against him. She was so light, so fragile. He'd have to take care of her until her family came to get her. Hopefully her father wouldn't get the wrong impression. Er, hopefully his father wouldn't get the wrong impression.


Excuse me, I need to go do my maniacal villain laughter. Drugged Daiba is the best Daiba because he can't complain about things when he's passed out. Oh dang, Daiba hasn't gotten slapped in this fic yet. I need to fix that.