Marriage Material

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Six: The Lighting Makes Him Look Human

Miriallia rolled out of bed around noon. At first, she tried to block out the midday light with her covers but sleep would not come to her. She slumped out of bed and grabbed some clothes from her drawers. It was a good thing everything more or less matched, because she didn't even look at what she took. She stumbled into the bathroom and took a quick shower. She went downstairs with wet hair.

On her way to kitchen, one of the maids made a small curtsy and asked if she would like any lunch prepared. Miriallia declined and said she would make herself something.

The kitchen was silent and devoid of activity. Miriallia rummaged through a few cupboards before finding a box of cereal. She poured herself a bowl and sprinkled a few spoonfuls of sugar on it. She didn't like milk in her cereal. She munched on a few bites on her way to the dining room.

Dearka and Yzak were already sitting across the table from one another, crouched low over half eaten omelettes. Miriallia stopped and looked from one to the other.

"Why are you still here?" she asked Yzak, surprise evident in her voice. Both boys scowled. "I didn't mean—"

"We know what you meant," Yzak cut her off, stuffing a piece of omelette in his mouth and barely chewed. "We have some time off and my mother is in Martus One for a while. I'd rather stay with this idiot than be isolated for a week."

"Oh," Mir mouthed and sat down at the head of the long table, between the two. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing. Yzak leaned over to peer into Miriallia's bowl and scrunched up his nose in disgust. "It's better this way," she explained. The brunette immersed herself with her cereal and missed the glance between the two guys.

"So," Dearka cleared his throat nervously, "Miriallia, are you doing anything today?"

Mir didn't look up. "Well, me and all my friends were gonna go gatecrash a cocktail party, but that's totally reschedule-able. Of course I don't have any plans."

Dearka looked like he had a smart comeback but a hefty kick caught him in the shin before it could come out. Miriallia looked between the two oddly.

Dearka cleared his throat again. "What I meant was," he ran his hand through his hair and tried not to look at the girl, "Do you want to go into the city and do something today?"

Mir's spider sense tingled. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

Dearka slouched down in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, if you don't want to go…" He was again straightened out by a swift kick. "I mean," he tried again, retreating his legs to the safety of the chair legs, "I just thought it would be nice or something." Yzak looked like he was ready to reach across the table and smack his stupid friend.

Miriallia thought about it and decided she had no way out. "Sure," she said unenthusiastically.

"He is up to something Cagalli," Miriallia whispered into her phone.

"Maybe he's just trying to be nice," her friend answered back irately.

"He wouldn't do that," Miriallia continued to speak quietly into her cell, "Niceness isn't in his nature. He must be plotting something. Maybe public humiliation, or a hit."

"You are starting to sound like a crazy person," Cagalli said warningly.

"I can't help it," Miriallia peeked around the corner to make sure Dearka hadn't somehow sneaked into her room's entrance.

"Mir, listen to me," Cagalli tried to reason with her friend, "There is nothing complex going on. He's a guy. Men can barely muster up the brain power to communicate what is really on their minds, let alone have a secret agenda that they don't tell women about."

There was a loud pounding on the door. "Let's go," Dearka shouted from the other side, "How long does it take to get ready? Women." Miriallia could almost hear him shaking his head.

"I have to go," Mir whispered into the phone quieter than before, "Miss Boots is on my case."

"Please tell me that's not our code name for him," Cagalli pleaded.

"Bye," Miriallia hung up the phone. She grabbed her purse and jacket and opened the door.

Dearka was leaning against the opposite wall impatiently. He stood up properly and frowned at the girl.

"Why did that take so long? You're wearing the same thing as before."

"I am not," Miriallia huffed, "I changed my shoes."

Dearka rolled his eyes and began his descent of the stairs. Miriallia reluctantly closed her bedroom door behind her and followed him.

Yzak was at the door to see them off. He gave Dearka a meaningful glare (heavy on the mean) and was about to shut the door behind the couple when Miriallia turned around.

"Are you going to be here all alone?" she asked. Ted had gone off on some official business and Julie had gone out for lunch and a matinee with some of her girlfriends.

Yzak scowled and slammed the door in the girl's face.

"What's his problem?" she asked to the artificial sky.

"Believe it or not, that's one of his good moods," Dearka answered in its place.

"Really?" Miriallia, forgetting her apprehensions about Dearka's possibly shady intentions, caught up with him. "He doesn't seem so bad. He was mostly nice last night." Dearka clenched his jaw but said nothing.

They had reached the car. Miriallia reached for the handle on the passenger side door but was beaten to it. Dearka opened the door for her and did his best not to look at the girl. His face was red. Miriallia looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he was already beginning his dubious plot, and cautious got into the car. The door closed harmlessly once she was in. Dearka went around to his side. Miriallia quickly strapped herself in as Dearka tore out of the driveway like the maniac that he inadvertently was.

Once Miriallia adjusted to the G-force, she turned her head a little to look at the blond Coordinator. He looked nervous.

"Where are we going?" she yapped quickly.

Dearka, who had been concentrating on something else, jumped and swerved. He quickly corrected and got back in his lane. He looked over at the girl seriously and said, "Don't do that." Miriallia nodded dumbly. "I didn't plan anything for today," Dearka admitted, keeping his eyes firmly on the empty road, "Where do you want to go?"

"How about there?" she said excitedly, her nose practically pressed against the window.

Dearka pulled a face worthy of a disgruntled two-year-old. "A museum?" he asked, wrinkling up his nose.

Miriallia sat properly in her seat. "Well, if you don't want to go…" she mumbled and looked down.

Dearka looked up to the heavens with a longsuffering sigh and turned into the parking lot at the last second.

"Yay," Miriallia said calmly and got out of the car.

"Don't you like art?" Miriallia asked, almost rhetorically, as Dearka slouched after her to the next painting.

"Not particularly," he answered as he rubbed his eyes. It had been almost two hours. How could she still be interested?

"I didn't pick here to torture you, you know," Miriallia commented dryly, "I picked it because I happen to like art."

"That's, uh, comforting?" Dearka wheezed, "Do you want to go get some food now? I'm going to die."

"Some Coordinator," Miriallia sniffed and then chuckled. She grabbed the supposedly dying boy's arm and began to escort him to the exit. "You know, Elthman," she began in a much lighter tone, "I've come to the decision that you're not all that bad."

Normally that would warrant such a sarcastic response from the elite soldier as "How very kind of you," but instead he chose to keep quiet and let her continue. Things seemed to be looking up for Dearka Elthman.

Or so he thought.

"And I have also come to the decision that we need to start working together to work this out."

It sounded too good to be true.

"We need to work together to make sure that this marriage is off, or else we wont have any choice but to go through with it."

And it was.

"Huh?" was all that the boy could muster.

They were almost at the front door of the museum. Miriallia stopped in front of a grotesque contemporary piece. She looked Dearka straight in the eye and held out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Dearka looked from the offered hand to the triumphant face of the girl before him. This wasn't part of the plan. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Miriallia that he suddenly decided he really did want to marry her? He doubted if that would fly. He was running out of time; she was looking at him oddly.

"What's the problem?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," the blond said quickly. He shook the girl's hand firmly. "You've got yourself a deal."

"Excellent," Mir exclaimed. She took his arm again and led him out towards his car. "Let's discuss tactics over some fast food. I'd kill for some fries."

"Dumbass!" Yzak berated, "That wasn't part of the plan at all!"

Dearka lay on his bed, his pillow over his face. He pulled it back to look at his friend miserably. "I couldn't help it," he whined like a child, "I was stuck in some godforsaken, musty building with all these weird distorted, contemporary faces staring down at me. I was going crazy."

"Normally, I would tell you to fix your mess on your own," Yzak continued to storm about, "But if I'm not the brains behind this operation, you are going to fuck it up royally, and I'm going to be stuck listening to you bitch and moan for the next five years."

"Why are you such a potty mouth?" Dearka asked quietly.

"Why are you such a moron?" Yzak yelled back.

A/N: That's right, who updated? I did, biznatches! Booyah!

As an additional treat, I will, once again, divulge the title of the next chapter. It is called "Baby Makes Three." Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! How on PLANTS did this happen?

Hopefully it wont take me another six months to update ;). Review if you want the time to be shorter!

(I wouldn't actually do that to you guys (again), but seriously, review!)