A/N: The characters opinions and actions are theirs alone. I try to stay with what I think is appropriate for them. Please consider this before writing letters. I am so sorry for the time between updates. Between school, writer's block, and general laziness, it took a while.
Rebecca tugged at her sun dress nervously. She fidgeted in her seat as she surveyed the incoming flights list. She bounced her heels up and down, counting each up as it came, counting each second passing by. A novel lay face down on her lap, abandoned. It was perhaps a bad choice in literature: the chilling, suspenseful plot only left her jumpy. But perhaps that was just jumpy because she was waiting or her mother.
While she loved her mother as much as she could, she really hated her visits. They could never seem to agree or get along, not like her and her grandfather, anyway. It wasn't just that they disagreed fundamentally on nearly any topic, it was that they both knew that they were right and wanted to save the other. From ignorance, in her mother's case. From Hell and the Devil and sin, in Rebecca's case. It had been a long while since her forays into the supernatural. While she once believed implicitly about the wonders of magic despite how it conflicted with her scientific views, she has since lapsed back into a more realistic point of view. While she was not as stubborn as Kaiba as to repeatedly refuse to face something in front of him, she generally left it alone. As long as it did not bother her, she did not bother it.
There was also the problem that Rebecca never knew what to say to her mother. Rebecca embodied nearly everything her mother disliked: skeptical, sexually active, sarcastic, vindictive, and revolted by children. Whether her mother disliked such things because Rebecca embodied them or that she embodied them because her mother disliked them always remained a mystery to Rebecca.
Mokuba offered to go with her, "for moral support," but she declined. Last thing Rebecca needed was for her mother to think she was sleeping with Mokuba. Despite protests and evidence that they "really [we]re just friends," her mother always suspected something. Rebecca deduced that it had more to do with him being male and Rebecca being her youngest than anything else. Of course, her mother never suspected "behavior inappropriate for an unmarried teenager" with Kaiba. Rebecca chuckled to herself at the irony. She thought about asking him to come with her, but then reconsidered. They only wanted to freak Mokuba out, not her mother. Definitely not her mother. Besides, Kaiba would refuse. Instead, she waited at the airport alone, with only a discarded novel and her growing anxiety to accompany her.
Kaiba pinched the bridge of his nose to try and stave off eye-strain. He was dutifully drawing up a memorandum thanking a Mr. Nolan for his continued loyalty and creativity towards the company, and while his wonderful idea was appreciated, unfortunately, due to an unexpected blockade, his idea was rejected and impossible to fulfill. He finished off the letter by reiterating his thanks and a hope to see more prosperous ideas in the future. He sent the email, then promptly returned to his actual work.
He pondered a moment how exactly his brother thought this atrocity of an idea would push through. He lamented his brother's planning skills; Mokuba was always less patient when it came to strategy. Though, he reflected, did he have much room to talk?
He was granted a reprieve from Rebecca while she dealt with her mother, but he only had until she returned to figure out how far he wanted to take this charade. It was getting much too tiresome and involved to keep up. He had too much work to do to get swept up by a pretty girl.
Because of some incompetency within the computing section, Kaiba had to completely reconfigure and recalculate the schematics. He really wished Rebecca's mother would have chosen any week but now to visit. It was useful to have someone else who could do high level math in her head. He didn't dare recall Rebecca, though. He knew much better than that.
His rapport with Ms. Johnson, formerly Mrs. Hawkins, was infinitesimal, to say the least. He was never any good at schmoozing, and this event was no exception. Her mother visited, Rebecca took off without proper notice, Kaiba called her back in for something important-- though now he could not remember what it was-- and her mother refused. There were very few times where Kaiba actually feared something. Facing off against the former Mrs. Hawkins was one of them. He took to accidentally forgetting that she divorced Rebecca's father, calling her by her married name almost always. When he first encountered Rebecca's grandfather, Kaiba wondered what sort of family surrounded a man who thought that monsters actually existed. After meeting them, he knew.
He heard a knock at the door, and then a plea, "Please sir, could you get the door for me? These files are quite heavy and I don't want to risk scattering them."
Kaiba opened the door to reveal his secretary. He could not remember her name. Something starting with 'M.'
"Thank you, sir." She heaped the files extending from the bottom of her forearms to under her chin. "Here are all of the backlogs from the past year, as well as the modified logarithms. Is there anything else you need?"
"Some coffee," he replied in a flat tone. This was no time for pleasantries. "Find me the address to Fuuyuki Michori. I wish to discuss with him the terms of his biannual appraisal. After that, make sure the documents regarding taxes are properly organized. Once you have completed that, you may leave."
"Yes, sir." She bowed and left.
Kaiba looked at the large tower of manila folders on his desk. He was looking at hours of checking and rechecking improperly done something he considered basic math. Dull, definitely dull. He opened the folder to find the first page with several little sticky notes, accentuated with a smiley face whose tongue stuck out of its mouth.
Did you honestly think I'd let you have all the fun?
I needed something to numb my brain before meeting her.
Now, you can focus this time on removing the large stick that
seems to have lodged itself firmly in your ass.
Cheers from the person you are in awe of right now,
Rebecca
He weighed in on whether she was being truthful and did, in fact, do all this without being asked, or she was just screwing with him again. He figured not, since she never did anything to hurt his company, just him. Her friendship with Mokuba at least had that benefit, even if it did mean getting up some mornings to find her ungracefully sprawled on the couch.
There were times when Kaiba wanted nothing more to see Rebecca take in her last breath. Then there were times when she did something amazing (though he'd never tell her) and uncharacteristically altruistic that made him thankful he didn't force a pillow over her face. He unpeeled the notes and tossed it in the garbage. He wouldn't do anything about the note because while there was so much still left to do. He was much too busy to get retribution for the comment, and since no one else read it, he felt confident that he would not have to deal with it.
Rebecca hated how nervous she felt. She prided herself in her ability to keep control-- over herself, over others, over any situation. She didn't even know why her mom was here. The only thing her mom seemed interested in was her religion. She just wished the visit would be over as quickly as possible. The sooner the you should really's and why not do this instead's were over, the better. She checked the overhead monitor to see the flights. The 430 in from Atlanta was due in another quarter hour or so. She closed her eyes, put her forefingers to her temples, and took deep breaths. She had to calm her nerves before her mother came, had to strengthen her resolve. She did this for quite some time. She was almost completely zen when she she was interrupted.
"Hey, you're Rebecca Hawkins! I saw you last year in the International Championship! You were amazing!"
Rebecca looked up to find a young man looking at her with admiration. He was plain looking, brown hair, brown eyes, with an openness in his expression that she had long grown accustomed to. Most people might feel perturbed at random strangers approaching them, knowing their name as well as odd facts about their life, but Rebecca didn't. She fully adjusted around fifteen.
"Thank you," she replied.
Spurred on by her attention, he started to gush. "I saw your every duel. You're the person that first got me into dueling. That one against the Brazilian? Brilliant! Of couse, that's how your every duel is like. Unless you're dueling Kaiba. He does kind of cream you," he added thoughtfully. Rebecca raised her eyebrows.
"Oh sorry! He beats every one. Does he have to be so cruel about it, though? He rather seems like a git sometimes. What's with that odd coat?"
Rebecca smiled, "He probably thinks that if his outfit is ridiculous, women would be that more inclined to take it off him."(1)
The young man blushed. She decided to spare him embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name."
"Oh! It's Conner! I'm Conner Ackart. I suppose you don't have to introduce yourself, seeing as how we both know your name. Why, I am really just rambling on here, aren't I?"
"It's fine," said Rebecca. She really wanted to agree with him, that yes, he was rambling on, but she felt it too rude for a stranger, even for her. She just fixed the smile on her face tighter and looked up at him steadily. Even now and then, imperceptibly, she flicked her eyes over to the flight monitor to see her mother's plane's progress.
"You really are brilliant. You make dueling seem out to be child's play."
"Because it's not like a children's card game, right?" she asked with a big smile. He looked at her for a moment before that fact that she was joking dawned on him. He smiled and laughed.
"You're funny! Great at dueling, smart, pretty, and a sense of humor? You're perfect," he said with awe. Rebecca was silent for a few moments. He must have realized what he said, because his eyes went wide and he made 'o' shapes with his mouth as if about to speak. He looked positively mortified. She was used to babbling fans, and nervousness sprouting stupid statements, but she really had nothing in her arsenal of stock responses that covered what he just said. The worst part was that he said it with such sincerity; it made it harder to just laugh off. She looked at him blankly until she could find even a remotely acceptable phrase. She looked at the monitor again--- she didn't want to excaberbate the awkwardness of the situation by continuing to stare at him--- and found that her mother's flight had finally made it in.
"Excuse me, please. The flight I'm waiting for just came in," she said. She collected her belongings and left as quickly as she could.
After he left her sight, she completely forgot about him. After she left his sight, he held a fist to his forehead and chastised himself. "I'm such a bloody idiot! You're perfect? Geez, why don't I ask her to marry me or something dumb like that? That wouldn't have been as forward as you're bloody perfect!"
Rebecca searched for her mother in the throng of people with a slight trepidation in her stomach. She gripped the sweater in her hands tighter when she finally heard her mother's voice.
"Henry, I don't care if the flowers are out of season, get them anyway. It's what she wants. You know how brides are. Be sure to coordinate with the caterer, the tailor, and the musicians. I promised this woman that she'd have the perfect wedding, as I promise all my brides. I'm not going to let the simple fact of my absence deter this." A pause. "Of course they are not paying as much! Have you been living under a rock? The economy is having tough times now. All that means is that we'll have to work harder for less money, and we will all do so. You should thank Jesus that business still is maintaining itself, what with all the job loss." Another pause. Rebecca's mother pinched her nose in annoyance and muttered something eerily similar to 'grant me patience, Jesus.' "My daughter only turns eighteen once, Henry. In fact, here she is. I'm going now. No, I'm hanging up right now. Right now.
"Rebecca, my dear!" she cheered as she pulled Rebecca into a strong, tight hug. "I have missed you so much. And you look so grown up! And so lovely! Well... The green is a bit too neon for your complexion, sweetie, don't you see? Why didn't you wear that pretty yellow dress I sent you? It would have matched your hair. Oh, your hair! You never told me you were growing it out! You got that conditioner thing I sent, right? I got it at a salon back home. It's supposed to make your hair really, really soft. Didn't work so much with mine. Debbie says that's because I've dyed and fried my hair to much. You know Debbie, right? My hairdresser? Anyway, I've been seeing her twice a month to dye my roots and get a mani pedi. Wouldn't want to let my grays show through, now, would I?"
"Mom? We're kind of blocking the aisle. Can you let go of me?"
"Oh, of course!" She turned to the flight attendant who was looking at her expectantly. "So sorry, dear." Rebecca and her mother picked up the luggage and made their way back to the parking lot. Rebecca's mother regaled her daughter with the most memorable wedding moments, how her latest bible study class is really giving her an appreciation for Esther, and how her sister, Fiona, is an up and coming star at their church, working in the children's ministry and helping out at the church library. Rebecca barely listened, instead nodding at breaks of her speech, giving her mother a smile not disimilar to the one she gave Connor.
A/N: This would have been my biggest chapter with near 2600 words. Woot!
1. You know that's why he wears it. I hate it. Of course, I'm not big on the whole bondage slave look.
