Chapter Seven
Vipers and Uniforms
Saber felt heat that had nothing to do with the oppressing air outside fill her cheeks. Small hands shook as they reached down to press the scandalously short skirt down more against her legs. Her eyes widened when the stiff petticoat only pressed down a moment before fluffing the thick, almost shimmering black fabric out to display one's flesh all over again. She swallowed and asked, "Are you sure this is the correct size? I know I am small in stature, but . . ."
The eyes that met hers were a rather boring shade of brown and a frown marred a moderately pretty face. "Yes Saber, that's the right size," came the exasperated reply.
Saber swallowed as she looked at her supervisor, Hirano Asuka. The woman was in her early twenties and built rather like Sakura, but unlike Saber's former Master Asuka had no qualms about flaunting her abundance of curves. The corset the woman wore with her uniform only cinched in her waist to make her breasts just that much more apparent until they were almost overflowing from the froth of white lace adorning the bodice. Other girls from ages varying from high school to early twenties wore almost identical uniforms to Asuka and Saber.
Uniforms that consisted of shamefully short black dresses adorned with white lace along the collars, sleeves and skirt, black stockings ranging from knee high to thigh high, and white aprons. Saber resisted the urge to pull on the white lace choker around her throat that was currently scraping against the delicate skin there as she fussed with the skirt again. Asuka placed her hands on her hips and said, "You know what you were getting into when you applied for this job. Don't look so shocked."
"I think you look cute, Saber-chan," a bouncy voice said behind Saber.
Saber's eyes widened as she saw one of her new coworkers standing beside her, a girl taller than Asuka but sporting a slender, more athletic build with legs that seemed to go on forever under the maid's uniform. She had close cropped hair so black that it appeared to have blue highlights, a lovely face and large pale blue eyes framed by wire rimmed glasses. She was wearing a friendly smile at Saber as she bowed ever so slightly.
"I'm Kurosaua Hitomi, it's a pleasure to meet you," the young woman said with a smile as she moved over to the mirror in the dressing room.
Saber bowed and followed her. She replied, "Thank you, Hitomi, it is a pleasure to meet you too."
"God, that accent is amazing, where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?" Hitomi asked as she moved so Saber could see her reflection in the mirror.
Saber felt her cheeks heat up as the girl with blond hair and emerald eyes stared back at her. Her voice felt distant to her as she answered, "Wales." The urge to reach up and touch the reflection was overwhelming, as was the shock to see the girl staring back at her.
The petite blond standing there had large green eyes that dominated most of her face and looked slim and fragile. She was obviously no one that should have never picked up a sword or even tried to lead a country. Her blond hair was tied up into a high pony tail that spilled down her neck and was tied by a bouncy black ribbon that contrasted with fair tresses. Her body was on display shamelessly for everyone to see and was dressed in a way to accent what little slight curves she did have.
Hitomi gave a low whistle and asked, "So, what brings you to Japan?"
"A mistake on my part," Saber said before taking a deep breath and looking up at the puzzled look on the other young woman's face. Saber forced a smile and said, "I hope you can help me. I have never done anything like this before."
"Well, with how cute you are, I'm sure you'll do fine," Hitomi said as she adjusted her glasses with a smile.
Archer was walking back from the parts store with the new petcock for Rider's Hayabusa in his hand. The sun was mercilessly beating down, the heat almost unbearable even for him and his ungodly tolerance to pretty much everything. Then again, when you're a living forge you're constantly hot, Archer thought as he rubbed the back of his hand against his brow. He could even feel the spikes he normally haphazardly forced his prematurely white hair into wilt and start to stick to his forehead.
Scowling, he shoved his hand through his hair and tousled the damp strands so they weren't sticking against his forehead and more importantly made him look less like Emiya Shirou. He was sure that Issei was picking up the resemblances to Archer and his best friend despite how much Archer wanted to distance himself from his past self for both of their sakes. However he couldn't quite distance himself physically away because Sakura, Rider, and Rin were close to the idiot.
Then there was the complicated matter of Saber that was like a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment.
He sighed as the air conditioned haven of his shop and apartment drew closer and closer with each step. Sitting on the stoop was an all too familiar figure with her long, lavender hair spilling onto the pavement behind her only to coil in a silken pool. Rider used her index finger as she smilingly pressed her glasses more firmly up on her nose before she rose to her feet. The motion in itself was quite intriguing and brought attention to sleek muscles and supple curves.
Then again, Rider had an unnatural grace and sensuality that was dangerously distracting, even to Archer now. He'd faced her in battle and nearly lost, and he wasn't sure if the outcome would be much different if he hadn't been injured at the time. Out of all of the Servants, she was the one he wanted to fight the least for one simple reason that he shared with her.
Rider had no pride or honor in combat. She fought to win, she thought things through and if she needed to do something devious to ensure her victory she would without hesitation. Lancer and Saber had strict codes that they followed in combat, codes that Archer could manipulate against the two stronger and more powerful warriors. Gilgamesh's arrogance and stupidity was a good handicap to use against the King of Heroes and Caster had her own weaknesses that Archer would not have balked to exploit. Rider didn't, which made her dangerous, and gave the two veterans an odd sort of bond.
Archer also reasoned that he helped Rider keep her bike in peak working order helped as well.
He waved as he approached and she smiled at him. Despite the heat she was still wearing her trademark black, but this was a simple tank top and modest knee length khaki shorts. Those queerly gorgeous eyes met his and he said, "I've got the part for your bike right here, Rider."
"Thank you Archer. What would I do without you?" she said with a smile as he handed her the brown paper bag.
He gave her a lopsided smile as he dug his keys from his pocket and said, "Possibly have to pay for your repairs."
"And get ogled in the process," Rider said with a frown as she folded her arms under her ample breasts.
Had it been almost any other woman, Archer would have teased her about her stunning looks. However from what little he knew of her checkered past and how she generally dressed in modest clothing stayed his tongue. Instead he said, "And some idiot might get turned to stone and then I'd have to explain that to Rin which I really wouldn't want to do."
Rider smiled and said, "Or I could gouge their eyes out."
"You'd enjoy that too much," he replied as he unlocked the door. He opened it for her and she stepped inside, her hair swaying behind her as she did. He stepped in after her and closed the door to let the blessed air conditioning stay in. The two of them walked into the public part of the shop and then to the back where actual repairs were done.
Archer's work room was nowhere equipped to deal with cars and the like, for that he would use Fujimura-dono's garage with free permission, but Rider's Hayabusa was special. He realized he was becoming somewhat of a gear head and he himself had fallen for the Peregrine Falcon. He was debating about restoring some old bike for himself to ride around instead of walking or leaping everywhere when it became dark.
He said, "You can sit down, this part won't take long."
"I still can't believe that punk almost beat me," Rider said with a huff as she perched on one of the stools in the workshop.
Archer walked over to the sleek black bike and replied, "I can't believe you had the guts to go to Misaki just for a street race."
"All I did was race. You know I'm discreet about taking blood," Rider said with a small smile and a slight blush on her lips.
Archer shook his head and said, "You're lucky Sakura and the idiot don't know what you're doing."
"You know, but yet you do nothing," Rider replied with a tilt of her head as she watched him get out his toolbox.
He shrugged and said, "You're not harming anyone. I've gotten to the point where it's not worth acting unless you're actively harming or upsetting anyone."
"You're a very curious man," she said as her smile widened as he removed the fuel tank to replace the rogue part. He started to unscrew some bolts and carefully put them aside.
He asked, "How so?"
"Well, honestly I dislike most men," Rider said with a shrug, "I don't dislike you."
Archer gritted his teeth as he removed the old petcock and set it aside. He replied, "Well, I treat you like a person. A very dangerous person who could kick my ass, but . . . I guess I don't ogle you, like you said earlier."
"You're more discreet about it," Rider said with a flash of white teeth as her square-pupil eyes flashed with a heavy heat that had nothing to do with the outside air.
He swallowed as he felt the intensity of that stare and despite her protective glasses, he felt himself responding to that stare. He almost dropped the fuel tank as she continued to smile at him. Rider pulled the part out of the bag and handed it to him. "If I didn't admire you, it would mean I'm not a flesh and blood man again," Archer said in low voice as he took the part from her.
Rider asked, "Then why haven't you taken a lover?"
His hands stopped in the middle of screwing on the new part and he blinked at the Gorgon. Her eyes were watching him and he felt the urge to ask if she was inviting him. Instead he answered, "I've had other things to worry about than sex, Rider."
He screwed the part on and then put the fuel tank back on. The sharp, almost sweet smell of gas was thick in the air as Archer checked his work. He narrowed his eyes and whispered, "Trace On."
Analysis begin. Check status. Look for flaws in the general matrix. Analyzing.
Archer grabbed the key, inserted it and started the engine. The bike roared to life and he gave it some gas before nodding in appreciation. With a subtle twist of the wrist the engine was turned off and the key passed back to its rightful owner. Rider smiled and said, "Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'm quite fond of this bike myself," he said as he petted the sleek
black body.
Rider smiled and said, "Maybe you should get one."
"Honestly, I've been thinking about it. I doubt I'd go with something as powerful as a Hayabusa, but a V-Max or a V-Rod could work. I'd want more of a touring bike than a racing bike," Archer replied.
Rider said, "You're more interested in the long haul."
Heat filled his cheeks as he cleared his throat and looked away from the sensual creature before him. "I like things to last," he replied before inwardly flinching at his choice of words.
Rider chuckled, which did utterly fascinating things to her face and anatomy, and said, "You really where the boy."
"Yes yes, I'm sure even Saber knows who I was by now," Archer said with a shake of his head and a lopsided grin.
Rider's lovely face was marred with a scowl as she said, "I doubt it. All she does is sit around the house, eat, and play video games. She does nothing to help, and Shirou and Sakura bend over backwards to make sure she's content."
"This has been bothering you for a while," Archer said as he sat on the stool beside Rider.
She sighed and said, "Yes. She annoys me."
"Well, your personalities aren't that compatible," Archer said with a slight smile.
Rider did smile at that and said, "Well, you are right there, but . . . she's like some dark cloud of Sakura and Shirou."
"She's miserable," Archer said with a shake of her head, "Think about it. She's been pulled out of death to a life she didn't really want to live in a land and time that's nothing like she's use to."
Rider scowled and said, "But she's not trying. She mopes like some spoiled brat listening to that melancholy music created by people who know nothing of true suffering."
Archer reached out and patted the woman's shoulder and said, "Rider, everyone hurts and everyone has their crosses to bare. Just some people handle it differently than others."
"Did things go drastically different in the War you fight when you were alive?" Rider asked.
He nodded and answered, "It did."
"How so?" Rider asked.
Archer met her gaze and said, "Because I failed her and betrayed her trust."
"This Saber is not your Saber. You aren't beholden to her," Rider said in a soft voice with a shake of her head.
His chest tightened at the vulnerable expression on Rider's face and wondered if she was jealous of Saber. Saber was shining, golden, and pure while Rider had obviously been used and abused as well as forced to turn into a monster. Archer replied, "I'm afraid what she'd do if she's not helped."
"Even now you're going to try to save her," Rider said with a sigh.
Archer snorted and said, "Apparently I'm still that idiot punk trying to save everyone."
The labor was more than was initially expected, but it made the task somewhat easier to bare. Saber smiled as she scurried to and fro bringing food and drinks for customers to earn what were called tips. Sweat was making the heavy fabric of the uniform stick to her skin, but she did not mind that. The trays that she used to do her work were often heavily laden, which meant she would build up muscles after doing this work for a while.
However the food there was quite mediocre and she had a feeling that most of the patrons, mostly male, came for the scenery and not the fare offered. As Saber changed into her street clothing she wondered if she should start bringing a bento when she had to work because the food was not worth the price paid for it. Then again I wonder if I have been getting spoiled by Archer, Rin, Sakura, and Shirou's cooking, she mused as she carefully tucked her uniform under her arm to carry it home. She'd need to launder it before she worked again tomorrow, and sadly Hitomi would not be there to guide her.
She hated the fact that she had to rely on yet someone else to muddle through this existence, but she was thankful in having a mentor like Hitomi. The girl was surprisingly open despite being Japanese and seemed to have a good heart. She had taught Saber quite a lot from how to take orders, enter them at the computer, and to take care of customers. Because of Hitomi's guidance, Saber's pocket was lined with quite a bit of cash.
Cash she was planning on giving a good deal of to Shirou and Sakura to help with food and the added expenses that Saber gave them. It wasn't much to help, but it was a good start. Not to mention the work gave her something else to focus on than her failures.
Before she realized it, she had reached the Emiya home and frowned when she saw Rider's motorcycle parked there. She inwardly cursed as she realized today was one of Rider's days off at the library, the Servant's cover day job. It was a well known secret that Rider's main source of income came in the form of illegal street races on said motorcycle. Saber stared at the gorgeous piece of machinery and admired its sleek, black, white and silver lines.
She had ridden a motorcycle before in the Fourth War and if circumstances would have been different she would have loved the experience. It was rather freeing to go so fast with the wind whipping around and having to keep total control to prevent accident. Saber had enjoyed riding in life, but the speed granted on horseback could not compare to the breakneck pace that something motorized could offer. She wistfully stared at the bike before heading into the house, making sure to take off her shoes before doing so.
Taking special care to shut the door quietly behind her, Saber soundlessly went to the washing machine to take care of her uniform. The white machines looked foreboding in their wooden cabinet with their knobs offering various speeds, temperatures, times, and settings. All of which Saber had no idea what they all meant. Small teeth worried her bottom lip as she tried to make sense of the settings.
"Well, where have you been all day?" an all too familiar voice said behind Saber.
Saber did not look up from the washing machine and answered, "At my new place of employment."
"Your hair looks . . . cute like that," Rider said and Saber swept her hair back in horror to find the high pony tail still there secured by its bouncy black ribbon. Heat swept over her cheeks as she spun around to face the grinning Servant. Automatically the scandalous uniform was hidden behind the blond's back as she faced the statuesque woman.
Saber swallowed and said, "Thank you Rider. They found my normal style of hair a bit too off putting."
"So, what are you hiding behind your back while standing in front of the washing machine in utter confusion?" Rider asked with a smile as she tried to peer behind the other girl's back.
Saber answered, "My uniform, which I am going to wash."
"May I see it?" Rider asked as her smile widened.
Saber shook her head and said, "No. I have no desire for you to see it and you have no need to know of its appearance. I would thank you if you would leave me alone to my duty."
Rider's smile turned absolutely wicked as she said, "Of course. If you need any help, feel free to call for me."
More heat poured into Saber's cheeks as she said, "I'm sure I can handle this on my own, but thank you for your concern."
With a chuckle, Rider turned to leave Saber alone. The tension left the former Servant's body before she brought her uniform from behind her back. This is honest work I am doing. I should not care what Rider thinks, or what anyone else thinks for that matter, she thought before holding her head high and checking the uniform's collar for a tag as she'd seen Sakura do with new clothing before.
Author's Note: Hayabusa means Peregrine Falcon in Japanese. The Hayabusa is still the fastest production motorcycle ever made and ironically is a really well made bike all around despite being a speed demon. Rider's Model is a 2000 (I'm still going with Fate taking place in 2004), which means it was made before the unspoken agreement to only make motorcycles so powerful for the European model so it doesn't have that cap.