AN: Anybody know someone like Gerard who confuses famous people and pop-culture references while trying to look hip?
Things are heating up! Sneaking out of the dance to go to a hotel room…hm…
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Note that italics are used as emphasis and thoughts.
Disclaimer: I do not own KWMS. All honor and glory to Hiro Fujiwara-san! Nor do I own any other fairy tales or stories.
Chapter 17 – The Perfect Storm, Wolfgang Petersen, 2000.
As they made their way to the elevators, Misaki glanced around furtively, hoping no one from her team would notice her absconding with a strange man, while Usui strolled along in his usual nonchalant manner. She had a nervous but resolute look on her face while he could not stop grinning his cheesy, lopsided, yet charming grin. The doors dinged open. She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the elevator.
"A bit eager aren't we?" He quirked a suggestive eyebrow in her direction.
She did not respond, only punched the number 3 on the elevator control panel. Before the doors could close, a rowdy crowd shoved their way inside. A large drunken man was wearing what appeared to be a sub-sandwich, followed by three more equally large drunken men dressed as condiment bottles: one yellow, one white, and one red.
The sandwich turned around yelling, "Hey look at me, I'm a hero!" His costume was bulky enough it knocked the red bottle out the elevator. Red tried to scramble back inside.
"C'mon! Catch up!" The drunken sandwich hollered, to which the others all burst out laughing. With a flying leap, Red succeeded just as the doors closed.
Red's success was Misaki's misfortune. She had needed to back away quickly to avoid becoming a condiment sandwich. However, the heel of her shoe caught on the hem of her dress and she lost her balance. Usui, as usual, caught her in the nick of time. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him protectively. His back was pressed against the wall and her back was pressed against his chest.
Thankfully, the food crew got off at the next floor. The doors closed leaving the two alone. Misaki breathed a sigh of relief. "You can let go now."
"Don't wanna," came the childish response. He tightened his hold on her and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. Pink started to show through her white makeup. She had to admit though, there was something comforting about his embrace.
The door dinged open again. "Th-this is my floor." She struggled to pull away, but he hugged her tighter.
"Usui…" she started in a warning tone.
"I don't want to let you go." The realization that this might be their last night together was dawning as he struggled to keep his voice steady.
She managed to crane her head enough to see his face and froze, shocked to see him looking so serious with a tinge of sadness. As the doors closed, he reached over and pressed the top floor button. Calming muzak filled the space with Usui occasionally humming or muttering lyrics into her hair. She absentmindedly caressed the backs of his hands with her fingers, trying to figure out the reason for his sudden mood swing.
The doors dinged open once again, this time revealing a rooftop observation deck. Misaki was still lost in thought so it was Usui's turn to grab her hand and drag her out of the elevator. He led her to the railings. The moon peeked in and out of heavy clouds, briefly illuminating the roiling waters. A stiff breeze tore at her dress. She shivered; a storm was coming.
"I'm sorry." His sudden statement came out of the blue and was such an emotional plea that she was finally pulled out of her musings and could only gape at him.
"For what?" She automatically crossed her arms in a defensive posture. Was he going to tell her it was all a game? That there was someone else? That he had been leading her on?
"I should never have let you go back in high school." He had so much more he wanted to tell her, but the words would not come. So he just stood with his head down, looking like a lost little puppy, longing for comfort.
His response was completely unexpected. Why was he looking like that? She didn't like it. He should be teasing her with that impish grin of his. At a loss for words and partially distracted by the impending squall, she continued to gape at him hoping her brain would string together something coherent for her mouth to say. Finally, she heard herself spewing out some lukewarm drivel.
"Hey, it's all right. We all did stupid stuff back then. Don't worry about it." She tried what she hoped was a reassuring smile. But he only became more dejected by her response, expecting her to unleash her dark aura at him not this weird, fake smiling stuff.
Lightening crackled on the horizon. She put her hand on his shoulder and tried again, "Usui…"
"I should not have come here," looking away, he muttered under his breath, regretting not just the less than ideal weather. How would he be able to return home and continue his so-called life after all this? Meeting her again had opened his eyes to what could have been. And who knew how long it would take him to find a way to escape. He wasn't sure he could endure it.
For once, she had the alien super-hearing. "I agree. It's going to rain." She marveled at his terrible timing for serious conversations.
"Let's go back inside. We can talk more in my room." She had just invited him to her room again. It was a perfect setup and she waited for him to say something perverted, but nothing was heard except the low rumble of thunder. Great, now he decides to shut up just when she wants to talk with him.
So once again, she grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the door. This seemed to break him out of his melancholy as he looked at her wide-eyed as she smiled back gently and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Surprised at her comforting gestures, he failed to see the demonic gleam in her eyes, 'You're not getting off the hook that easily Usui. You got some 'splainin' to do.' (1)
The elevator doors dinged open at the fifth floor. With a flourish, he grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it.
"I will return to your side posthaste, milady, for parting is such sweet sorrow."
He dashed off down the corridor towards his room as she called after him, her shout swallowed by the closing doors.
"3442, idiot!"
He swiftly disarmed his "answering machine" and set up a much simpler recorded loop of loud snoring as a precaution. Not that he truly believed they would check up on him anytime soon. A quick glance at his phone and email assured him of that. For once, there were no late-night demands. He paused briefly in the bathroom, rummaging in his toiletry bag. A small silver foil packet was slipped into his pocket. It was good to be prepared. Then he was off to face his destiny.
Misaki paced around her room. What was she thinking? Inviting a guy to her room? And not just any guy, but that guy. For the first time she wished that she did drink and could appreciate why some needed that shot of liquid courage. 'We're just going to talk, that's all. Just talk and clear the air.' She repeated it over and over like a mantra. 'Anyway, he owes me some answers. No, a lot of answers!' A knock sounded on the door.
Usui stood in front of the door to room 3442, amused at its proximity to another familiar room. What would have happened if their paths had crossed in the hallway? Probably not tonight's result. Aoi was truly his godfather for coordinating all this.
Usui's hand was still half-raised, having just knocked. He took a deep breath, wondering if he should call out or just knock again. Suddenly the door cracked open, a hand reached out, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him into the room. This was getting to be a familiar routine for him.
"Hi," she sounded breathless. He noticed a wild, indomitable gleam in her eyes.
"Hey," he gave his best come-hither look. "How you doin'?" (2)
"Much better now that you are here." She batted her eyes at him.
He engulfed her in a passionate embrace. She drew back enough to lift her head to nibble on his chin. With a sharp intake of breath, he leaned down and captured her lips. Without hesitating, she opened her mouth and eagerly plunged her tongue in with his, battling for dominance. His hand brushed her cheek with his fingers trailing along her neck, following the necklace chain down the front of her dress to the sacred charm. She shivered as his fingertips brushed her skin, leaving fiery trails in their wake. As she ran her hands over his broad shoulders, Misaki felt her mind slipping into the blank canvas of pleasure. With a herculean effort, she forced her brain to focus on her task.
Breaking the kiss, she removed his hat and mask and threw them aside. Her voice was a silky demand, "Why are you here?"
"For a rendezvous with the queen of the night, of course," he winked, letting the crimson jeweled cross slip through his fingers and fall back into place. She repressed a slight tremble as the cool metal touched her hot skin.
"But why are you at the conference?" She looked directly into his emerald eyes this time while winding her fingers through the hair at the back his neck. A low rumble of thunder reverberated through the room.
"For the same reasons everyone is at the conference. Business connections and whatnot." He shrugged.
Her eyes flashed dangerously with the lightening. Was he seriously joking around? Was this just a game after all? Was she just a prize to be won to further his family's company? Her hands moved down to his chest and gripped the lapels of his jacket.
"What is your connection to Walker Enterprises?" Her voice was a low growl.
Usui was startled but kept his arms around her chuckling awkwardly, "I'll tell you if you kiss me."
Her temper flared and she pushed him roughly against the wall, pinning him there with her body. She stood on tiptoe and planted a savage, biting kiss on his bottom lip.
"Why weren't you at the meeting today?"
"What meeting?" He was confused. He distractedly licked his lips, tasting blood from her earlier attack.
"I knew it! You're just like Gerard and Igarashi!" She reared back like a snake, ready to strike.
His eyes narrowed and his expression darkened dangerously when those names left her lips.
"You don't know me. I'm nothing like those two."
"I know exactly who you are Usui Takumi. Or should I say Sebastian, or Thomas, or Jack, or Bob Walker?" She turned her back on him and missed the stunned look on his face. "When were you going to tell me? After you got what you wanted, right?"
She spun around to punch his smug face. He caught her fist with his hand. "It's not like that Misaki." There was a note of desperation in his voice.
The use of her first name rendered her motionless and she stood like a statue, a look of astonishment on her face. He lowered her captured hand but did not release it. He gestured to the sofa. She nodded mutely. He guided them over and they sat in silence. The only sound was the rain lashing on the balcony doors. Finally, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.
"I guess I should start at the beginning…"
For over an hour, she stared intently at him, as he recounted his past. He spoke of his dismal childhood, of the initial plan to cut ties, of the sudden attention and being forced to transfer schools. She made no interruptions, just the occasional blink or nod of her head. He recounted lonely years abroad, ploughing through academic programs, racking up achievements only to be locked away from the world again, his sole purpose in life now devoted to maintaining profitability for the family business. Filling in the missing details from the conference, including Gerard's attempt at a joke by registering him as Bob, he finally finished. It was all revealed. He felt surprisingly lighter. It was a relief to confide in someone. He looked at her expectantly, knowing questions would soon be fired his way.
"So, you're basically CFO and COO of Walker Enterprises? Then why weren't you at the meeting?"
A dark chuckle escaped his lips. "You've met Gerard and know of my grandfather. My official title is personal assistant. They would never allow one that lowly in an important meeting, much less run the risk of exposing my shame to outsiders. However, what did you discuss at this meeting? It wasn't on any of the schedules I saw."
Misaki stood up, grabbed a thick folder from the desk, and handed it to Usui. She began explaining the details as he leafed through the information. "We will be having a follow-up meeting with the leadership teams in two weeks to present the formal proposals."
As he perused the documents, a frown grew more pronounced on Usui's face. His mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to connect the dots. Why was his grandfather so interested in AWA Consulting Group? He knew it was not Gerard's or Igarashi's idea. They were too arrogant to ask a third party for help with their companies and had to be following orders. Surely it wasn't just to get Misaki, although she was quite the catch. (As if he would just quietly stand by and let Gerard or Igarashi have her.) Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. He almost groaned when he realized the old man's hidden motives: her company was sitting on a treasure trove of insider information.
He looked up with an earnest, desperate face. "Don't do it Ayuzawa. Don't work with Walker Enterprises and Igarashi Conglomerate."
She was taken aback by his worried tone and appearance. "I can't do that. This is a huge win for my company. We need this project."
The desperation turned to desolation. He abruptly stood. "I have to leave. You can't be involved with me. It would play right into his hands." He looked away, hating that he once again felt powerless, his voice cracking. "I can't protect you."
She looked up at him quizzically. "I don't need protecting. I built my company from nothing. I will protect it and myself."
Her eyes swung to the balcony doors, the dark and stormy night sporadically illuminated by flashes of lightening. "You are right though. I can't get involved with a client, too much potential conflict of interest."
She brought her gaze back to his emerald eyes. Her amber ones already glistening with sadness, imagining letting him go again. Only an impossible solution could work. "It's too much to ask," she muttered to herself. Of course, he heard it with those alien ears. He gently lifted her off the couch, wrapping his arms around her.
"What is too much to ask?"
She buried her face in his chest. "Do you ever feel like giving up everything and leaving it all behind? But I can't ask that."
Once again, he gave a mirthless chuckle. "What's there to give up? I'm no better than an indentured servant."
He gave her a squeeze, "But what about you? You can't give up what you've worked so hard for."
She looked up; her eyes had begun to sparkle again. That look of determination was back.
"Maybe it's time to try something different." She hugged him back.
"So what now?"
1 – "I Love Lucy", TV sitcom, William Asher, et. al., 1951
2 – "Friends", TV sitcom, Gary Halvorson, et. al., 1994