Gambit 3rd version.

Chapter 12: Procrastination

0000~L~0000

Lelouch squeezed his eyes shut as he bit down hard on a piece of cloth; trying not to move the offending arm as his childhood friend prodded it. Already, the hand had swollen to twice its normal girth. The Demon Emperor had lasted a whole ten minutes before he had swallowed his pride and banged on the door for his old friend's help. The pain had been numbing before; having the damaged appendage touched made it far, far worse.

The knight grunted; "I can't believe you put your thumb inside your fist like that. Even a beginner would know that is a sure way to dislocate the joint."

Through the pain, Lelouch calmed his breathing and tried going for a sarcastic air. "Yes, well; excuse me for not spending my childhood throwing fists at sandbags..."

Again, Suzaku studied the hand with a grim expression, standing broad legged in a manner that alarmed his charge in a whole new way: If hell had a nurse, Lelouch realized, it would be the very image of this man.

Despite his best efforts, a small cry was elicited from him as the soldier grabbed hold of his thumb unceremoniously. The brunette met his gaze with a grim expression. "The joint is out of its socket. Ready?"

What? "No!" The prince was sweating but felt cold regardless; reason. Surely, even Suzaku could see reason? "Absolutely not; I want to see a doctor."

Again, the Japanese nodded grimly; not in assent though: "Doctor is going to do the same thing; just suck it up."

The ex-Emperor made a last try for sanity, prying at the strong fingers with a trembling hand. Though in all honesty, he knew sanity had never been one of the knight's vices. "All the same, I think I'd prefer it done by a man that has spent his time learning how to heal bodies instead of breaking theeee~!"

There came an end to coherent thought as the world turned a searing white for a slow, agonizing moment. When it passed he was on his knees with his poor hand pulled close. The room turned very quiet then, and the pain in his hand ebbed to an insistent pounding.

Having the grace to be a little abashed, the knight fidgeted. "I have to say, you were a lot braver about getting run thought with a sword."

"Yeah? Well, I guess I had more pressing concerns on my mind then beyond having my hand mangled by a righteous buffoon." He managed, slowly standing. When the brunette went for his hand this time, he managed to sidestep though.

"I should check the joint capsule, Lelouch." The boy seemed insistent only at first; after a few halfhearted tries, the knight gave up on grabbing his arm. "Does it feel any better?"

"No" The prince lied, and the other smiled at him stupidly by way of reply. Lelouch grumbled a little, angry at getting caught in a fib. "You could have just shot me, you know." The Demon Emperor noted belatedly.

The knight-turned Zero was smiling happily, though; Lelouch figured his earlier death threats must have gained him some trust.

"How about we try and occupy that mind then? Are you up to it?" The knight suggested.

Sarcasm was the only possible retort; Lelouch hoped he didn't sound too eager. "I'm not really busy on anything too urgent I guess. What did you have in mind?"

0000~R~0000

Rivalz had sat through another long, boring day of exams. True, he supposed he could try and work up some exam jitters. But really, he couldn't care less. He was pretty sure he was going to pass; even if he would probably get only a C- average.

But seriously, what was school without his friends? Not much, to him; just boring repetition. No, Rivalz reflected as he returned to his presumed dead friend's room: there was only one thing left in this school that kept him mildly interested in returning here every day; the lady on the bed of his one-time best friend.

When he opened the door, she was - as usual - lying scandalously draped on the bed. Her bare feet dangled above her and waved his way as he entered. An over-sized T-shirt hung over one shoulder, the other shoulder blade sticking out at him: the senior student strongly suspected it was all she was wearing.

She had a magazine in one hand and a pizza slice in the other: Rivalz was beginning to suspect it was a pose she only took when she knew someone was about to enter the room. Surely, a thin little slip of a girl like this could not be eating pizza's twenty-four hours a day?

That didn't solve the mystery where all those pizzas went though.

Rivalz walked around to stand in front of her; "Umm. Hi?" he asked after a moment of fidgeting. Perhaps he should have knocked; but she never answered anyway. The girl continued reading her magazine, appearing not to notice him.

A minute passed.

Suddenly, with a sigh, the green-haired girl stood, discarding both pizza and magazine rather roughly. The pizza added another smear to the bed's soiled linen. Rivalz supposed it was a good thing the bed's owner was not here to see it.

All such mundane thoughts were abandoned though, as this girl that could hardly be a day over sixteen stood close to him. Very close; noses almost touching. "I'm bored." She said huskily.

Well, she had done things like this before, the teen mused; but it never stopped to unnerve him. He laughed nervously: "Well, hah; don't get me wrong. You're very pretty…"

Two unnervingly yellow eyes blinked at him as she tilted her head slightly; "I'm bored." She stated again. "Entertain me?"

Bored? That was something the male student could relate to; but not right now. "Ah, yes. It's just that I like this… other girl."

She moved even closer, breathing heavily on his face; then stepped back. "So you can't even tell a decent joke to someone else? How sad. I need a car."

Rivalz felt cheated despite himself. "What?" The girl sighed, turning her attention to the floor as she started rummaging through the discarded clothing. The boy hardly had time to turn away before she bent to scoop something up. Underwear was obviously a waste of time in this woman's mind.

She sighed. "If you can't do any tricks, I'll have to get myself some real entertainment. I need a car."

Looking studiously at a poster on the wall, Rivalz conceded. "I could go out and rent you one, if you'd like. Can I come?"

The girl straightened and whirled around; for the first time he had met this strange young woman, she looked surprised. "You want to… what?"

Rivalz grunted "I can get you the car, but I want to come; I get bored too you know."

That strange girl sighed, turning back to sorting her clothes. "I don't think that's a very good idea." She brightened though, a rare impish smile on her features. "But I have a far, far better one."

0000~Ch~0000

Charles Zi Britannia, 98th emperor of the holy Britannian Empire was quite pleased with himself. Scientists were always the easiest to manipulate; and this bespectacled girl that he had chosen for the job was easy amongst them. All it had taken was a fake order for the book at the library to send it to the woman's house, and a few carefully placed online suggestions that this the gate the book spoke off would do good to mankind. The rest was done by the girl's inquisitive spirit and the drive all scientists shared to learn.

Charles had not had to worry about the money involved after all; the girl had already applied for funding for the project at three different institutes. Yes; the next phase of this plan would hardly require any of his oversight. So, he deigned to give his errant son another visit.

When he passed through the basement wall, his mood soured though: His son was humming, writing at his desk with an air of satisfaction. Oh, no!

Obviously, the old monarch had kept tabs on the boy in the previous weeks; but those times, his little usurper son had seemed more and more frustrated. As that suited the specter's plans well enough, the ghost had simply vanished through the wall again before he was noticed.

Now, however, the one main pillar on which Charles was building his plots seemed to be crumbling. It was high time to intervene; maybe the damage could still be contained. "Son, what are you doing?" He asked urgently. The boy stopped his writing momentarily, giving him an askew glance before returning to his work. "Well, hello father. Long time, no see…"

As the ghost floated close, he noticed the boy was using his left hand to write, rather less neat than his usual handwriting; his right hand was encased in a make-shift cast. The old King faked concern. "Dear boy, what happened to your hand?"

The boy seemed unconcerned. "My best friend and I had a bit of an argument. Don't worry though; we made up."

It was, in all earnestly, a worst case scenario. "He broke your hand and you made up?"

"No." the boy conceded without raising his head; "I broke my hand and he made up." after a tense moment, the black-haired prince finally bothered to look at his father. "Now if you don't mind, I have a speech to write. It's a rather big occasion."

The old King was confused. "Don't tell me that crazy knight actually agreed to letting you play Zero again?"

A lucky strike; the boy quickly disguised his mournful look, "Not quite." and put up a brave face instead. "But! This thing is actually important: persuading the Chinese eunuch board to get along."

The child emperor continued by prodding a finger at his dead father, as if making a major point: "And I get to answer their questions live though the phone, with Suzaku acting as speaker. AND!" the boy practically swooned. "Nunnally is going to be there too..."

Deciding to skip any remarks about this unhealthy sister-fixation his son suffered from, the ghostly Emperor choose to attack the boy's pride instead. "So you're content to be Zero's little talking parrot? You're going to let him keep you in this stinking cot of a cage?"

"Of course not!" The Prince answered heatedly; then took a calming breath. "Obviously, I am going to plot Suzaku's murder, and then take his place as Zero once again."

"Oh please," the ghostly King retorted comically; "You failed to kill him when you had an entire army at your back. Why would you fare any better now, locked in his basement?"

The boy was still scribbling on the paper; but his father knew it was a farce. "It's a worthy problem; I admit…" still, his son's gaze was defiant when it settled on him."I'm sure I'll figure something out eventually though."

The dead King pleaded with her successor; "Don't be stupid, boy; I'll find C.C. right now, and we'll get you right out of here." the demon Prince snorted in retort, returning to his scribbling. "If you haven't found her yet, I seriously doubt you ever will."

It occurred to the specter then; "Son, you don't happen to have any idea where she is?" the boy's lighthearted reply was enough of an assent; if only he had thought to ask his child before he had gotten so alarmingly compliant to his captor, the dead King fumed silently.

"Even I did, I wouldn't bother telling you now. Shoo!" The boy winced slightly as he waved his casted hand at the specter. This was, the specter realized, a lost cause. Perhaps he could still trick the boy into accepting his help a different way; right now, though, he did as he was told: Charles left to brood.

0000~N~0000

They were in Nunnally's private quarters; something that still seemed to unnerve her childhood friend, hiding behind that dark mask. Sighing, she shifted through the papers he had brought; the writing was crooked, somewhat childish. But the words were nothing less than brilliant.

"This aid is really amazing, Suzaku!" She praised him, using his real name. "Wherever did you find this man?"

The man laughed nervously behind his mask, still standing at rapt attention besides her wheelchair. "I hardly deserve the credit; it was a chance encounter." She wished he would stop being so formal with her.

"Well, regardless." she continued in a stern voice. "I will be glad to meet him when you deliver this speech. He is going to be there, I should hope?"

The man was evasive; as usual. "No, no, that will not be possible. He is very shy; very shy. But I promised he could listen in on us…" The knight trailed off, probably thinking he said too much.

Nunnally clapped her hands together, trying to lighten the mood. "And a great performance you'll give us all."

As usual, her praise only worked to make the ex-knight more uncomfortable. "I am hardly as good as... he was."

"Nonsense!" She lied through her teeth; "You are getting better and better; I hardly see the difference anymore."

"Really?" He asked, hopefully; almost innocently.

Thankfully, Suyoko took this moment to enter with a trolley carrying two dinner plates and a flask of wine. Nunnally feigned delighter surprise: "Suyoko, thank you! How thoughtful."

Her maid and bodyguard pretended to be embarrassed about the flattery, and excused herself again quickly.

Smoothly, Nunnally wheeled herself over to the trolley: "Suzaku, will you please have dinner with me? And I promise we will not be interrupted, so could you please remove that dreadful mask?"

"But…" He interjected, obviously at a loss for any good argument. They both knew it was him, so why was he being so stubborn? He made a few stiff arm-movements, as if trying to do one of his Zero-speeches, but without any actual words coming out of his mouth. Finally, he sighed.

When he finally released the clasp as the back of his neck and turned to reveal his face, it was her turn to sigh, gratefully. "Now that is the face of my friend I've been missing so much." She told him gratefully.

But Suzaku always seemed to find new ways to run from her: "I really don't want to impose. I can just go home, and we can continue tomorrow."

She could only just to grab his arm before he had run out of the door. As it was, she latched on and looked up at him pleadingly. "You are never imposing, Suzaku. Please stay; having dinner on my own is lonely."

That was it: lonely. Surely, he must have been as alone in this new world they were creating as she? This world that would soon not even understand them anymore: creatures of the old, crueler world that they were.

To his credit, the man did not flee any further. Or maybe that was just because he had found another road back to what seemed his favorite past-time: guilt-tripping. "I'm so sorry, Nunnally! How you must hate me."

At least he wasn't crying; yet. What was she going to do with this man? Nunnally figured she'd poor him a drink. "My brother left me long before you stuck a sword in him, Suzaku." It came out sterner then she had meant it; "I've forgiven you, now please stop this." she had also forgiven said brother, but it hardly seemed like the time to mention that. The ambassador poured herself a glass of red, and drank deep.

Her knight was shocked.

"Don't look at me like that, Suzaku. I am sixteen. This is perfectly legal."

Suzaku looked taken aback by that: he sat back down at the table, looked away, and then drained his glass in one worried gulp. Nunnally gave off her most radiant smile; now she could only hope there was a level of intoxication that would allow the warrior to relax before he passed out from overindulgence…

In her most airy voice Nunnally made light conversation, not worrying the slightest when all she got in return were uhm's and ah's. She knew Suzaku well; he had never been one for pointless gossip. But the chatter did its job, which was to take the knight's mind off of things. Make him relax. Make him smile.

When it came to opening the second bottle, they were both laughing merrily at just about everything; including the way she botched taking out the cork, pinching the bottle between her weak legs in an attempt for leverage.

When he finally came around the table to help her, Nunnally thought this was the best of time to show her true intentions: as he made to take the bottle from her, she grabbed him by the collar of that purple-black Zero costume, and pulled him down to her level.

Anxiety, uncertainty, and a sudden fear of rejection came out of nowhere. But those were feelings for little, uncertain girls. Not a woman that knew well what was better for everyone, and had vowed to make it so. She pressed on: on to and against a pair of clear, cool lips that gave little indication they felt her presence at all: soft but unrelenting; not parting to invite her closer, but not closing to ward her off either.

As she opened her eyes to look into his she knew her mistake: abject horror and revulsion seemed closest to what those wide eyes portrayed. She was just about to pull back, to apologize. To claim she was drunk after all, when two hands tangled in her hair roughly, and pulled her in deeper. Closer, tighter, she thought she would drown in him; would lose her lips to the raving beast that tried to eat her mouth.

And then, he was gone.

Not just his mouth on hers; no, as Nunnally gasped for breath and composure, she heard the door slam and knew that Suzaku – that Zero – and fled the scene.

Nunnally smoothed out her dress, felt at her sanded lips, and that decided that - as long as Suzaku was not on his way to drown himself in a lake or anything - things had turned out as best as she could have ever hoped.

0000~S~0000

In a daze Suzaku ran, stumbling all the way home; through darkened alleys and quiet streets. Only much later would he thank the stars no one had been there to see their great savior, Zero, running away like a scared little boy. But all he could see, think of now, were those delicate, soft pink lips, closing in on him.

As usual, the only way he could even think of repaying for his deeds, was ending his own, miserable life. It was a constant thought to him by now; beckoning and seducing him at every turn: sweet, merciful death. Why could he not be granted even that?

Oh, he could mull over the options; play out the possibilities in his head. Death in battle, death by his own hand; accidents; voicing the wrong insults to the wrong murdering psychopath…

He had even considered finding Jeremiah to use his Geass canceller on him; but in the end, he finally realized he could not. For a person like him, having the option of suicide opened was almost identical to taking it. The Geass placed on him made it impossible to enact any scenario that would willingly lead to his end. Likely, it even obscured those roads that would bring his end unwillingly; though he supposed it was a mercy that he was oblivious to those unconscious brushes with death.

As the option of taking his own life was lost from him, Suzaku went for solace to the one being he considered capable of removing said hurdle. With three leaps he was through the yard, and again as many steps down to the basement floor. Finally, after botching the lock three times, he crashed through the door.

And there he was, the man that would –somehow- be able to stop him; end him. His friend - and enemy - idly sat on the edge of the bed, burning purple eyes coming to rest on him with a hooded expression; like the demon already knew what he had done.

Regardless, he confessed; hoping against hope he would finally meet his just punishment; "I kissed her." then, as he was still taking breath, he elaborated. "I kissed Nunnally."

For the longest time, there was utter silence. Suzaku wished - wished vehemently – that the earth would finally open up beneath him and swallow him – swallow him and take him straight down to the bowels of hell where he surely belonged.

Nothing happened; finally, the other spoke, face obscured by his raven hair. "That's quite understandable, Suzaku." His voice was almost light; "I'd be smitten with her too, if she was not my sister." Then the prince stretched his legs, looking at the black clad 'hero' askance almost casually. "Say, Suzaku. You don't suppose I could borrow your gun for a moment?"

It was possibly the biggest let down of his life.