Chapter Eighteen

Rider's Plight

Saber was panting hard once she reached the Emiya home once again. Heat was overwhelming her and her street clothing was damp with sweat. She was breathing hard as she unlocked the door and slid inside after taking her boots off. Boots she had noted that were becoming rather tight around her toes and the sides of her feet.

The brown leather boots were placed beside Rider's heavy black boots, Shirou's sneakers, and Sakura's sandals. She bit her lip as she straightened her shoes to match their perfect arrangement before standing to her full height. A familiar presence wavered beside her as voluptuous curves and lavender hair came into view. Rider leaned against the wall as she adjusted her glasses with one long, index finger.

Rider said, "You're home late."

"I was having dinner with Archer," Saber replied. She noted that Rider was dressed in

thick black leather pants, a purple tank top, and her armored black, white and purple leather jacket was slung over one milky shoulder. The other woman's hair was tightly braded instead of the loose styles she normally fancied. Rider sat down and began to pull on her thick boots.

Rider smiled and said, "He is amusing, and unlike most males I enjoy his company."

Tiny, pinpricks of heat ran up and down Saber's spine as she glared at the older woman. Unbidden, an image of Rider's long, supple limbs around Archer's while his body worked harder and harder, thrusting passionately into her filled Saber's mind. She had caught Guinevere and Lancelot like that several times, but she had been happy that her closest knight and wife had found each other. Lancelot could attend to Guinevere in ways that Saber failed, and that had pleased her.

However the thought of finding Rider with Archer like that had flashes of red across her vision.

She took a deep breath as she remembered Asuka saying that Archer only had eyes for her when he came to the café. Composure was quickly gathered and she met Rider's queer stare. She replied, "Archer is a good man."

"I admit that I'm a bit jealous," Rider said with a tiny smile as she buckled up her heavy boots.

Saber blinked and asked, "What do you mean?"

The larger woman rose gracefully to her feet as she looked at Saber with her secretive half smile. "He's been attentive to you ever since the day he was brought back in the cave," Rider said with a sigh and a shake of her head.

More heat filled Saber's cheeks as she remembered Archer carefully taking off her armor. Even then he had been making tiny, subtle nudges to keep her tied here by having her help Shirou that night with Avalon still embedded deeply within him. He had been on his knees before her as if it was the easiest thing in the world to him, no shame or arrogance in his actions, just his normal desire to help despite his flippant words.

He smelled like steel, leather, and forge smoke, Saber thought as she twisted her hands around the heavy straps of her bag. She licked her lips and said, "I . . . know."

"Yet you don't know how to act upon your feelings. It's . . . quaint," Rider said with a chuckle as she slid into her jacket.

Saber bristled at her words but shook her head as Rider shut the door and walked out of the house. She stood there for a moment, cursing the knowledge in the worldly woman's words. Even tonight I faltered because I grew nervous and afraid, she thought as she looked down at the hand Archer had touched. Without realizing it she was holding it, but he did not pull away.

The closeness had been a heady, wondrous thing that made her heart pound, her head spin, and her body warm. It was something she wanted more of, but did not know what to want. The intensity of it startled her, shocking her out of the moment and she had ran like the coward she had become.

I have this new life where I do not need to hide who I am, but I am terrified to have these feelings that are allowed to me, she thought as she walked down the hallway. It was easier, locking my heart and throwing it away as the King. I do not know how to handle this, and the one person who can help is the one person who is making me feel this way. What if Archer does not feel the same way? Or if he does, then where will this go?

Her breath caught, her chest tightened, and her skin tingled at thought of Archer touching her filled her mind. She wondered what it would be like to be a woman and hold a man inside of her body in the act of lovemaking. Heat flashed over her in a scalding rush that made her nipples harden under her shirt and something hot and wet seeping from her core.

A gasp escaped her lips at the sudden empty ache that wanted to be filled. The hollowness was becoming overwhelming as she stumbled to her room. She quickly shut the door behind her as she stood there panting with need. She looked around, surrounded by the room's cool darkness as she continued to burn and clinch at nothingness. This is . . . shameful, she thought as she grabbed the shinai that Taiga had given her and headed for the dojo.

Rider was smiling behind her visor as her Hayabusa was roaring into the night while lesser bikes and riders were trying to catch up. Her braid was whipping back like a furious banner of lavender colored silk into the night. Leaning forward ever so carefully, Rider dropped the gear and the bike roared even louder and seemingly threw her even farther. Laughter bubbled up from her lips as the air, almost frigid at the speeds she was traveling, whipped all around her.

Expert control caused the magnificent piece of machinery to nimbly weave back and forth through narrow strips of pavement. Up ahead loomed the white flag she would pass to proclaim her victory. Along both sides of the road spectators were lined up and cheering their excitement to be heard. Her smile bloomed even more as the Hayabusa flew, its wheels barely touching the ground.

Something shining flashed across her vision and her eyes widened at the length of chain that was in her way. Teeth gritted, she turned so sharply that her knee kissed the pavement and her tires squealed. Then she jerked the bike upright again, her speed slowing ever so slightly as she swerved against a sword that hit the pavement hard enough to create a smoking crater. A bright red spear, so much like Lancer's had been, came barreling towards her next. With a cry, Rider slid out of its way as well to look up where it had came from.

Standing there on top of a windowsill was a young man maybe slightly older than Sakura and Shirou dressed in a fine suit. His crimson eyes gleamed as he gave Rider a positively wolfish grin before he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Red miasma shimmered into view behind him as more and more blades appeared in its hellish depths.

Cursing, Rider gunned the Hayabusa's motor before turning sharply to escape the literal rain of swords. Loud pounding sounded around her as she saw more and more pieces of metal pound into the ground. Instinct kept her nimbly dodging the projectiles as she was being pushed farther and farther from the race track. She cursed as she realized she was being lead into a blind, dead end alley right as the sword rain sealed the entrance, blocking her in.

She spun around to see the blond man enter the alley and calmly put his hands into his pockets. Rider pulled off her helmet and dismounted from the bike. The air was thick with bloodlust, and none of it was hers. Her heart was pounding as sheer power seemed to radiate from the golden man before her with his gleaming red eyes and gorgeous features.

Like a god, she thought wildly as her heart seemingly froze in her chest.

The smell of salty water all around her, coldness all around her with each painful thrust inside of her. Pleas fell on death ears as the violation continued over and over again as the bitter taste of the ocean was poured into her mouth. Those cold, clammy hands fondled her over and over again as her body became numb to the cold as those radiant sea colored eyes that were ever shifting blues and greens met hers again and again.

"You should have been crushed under during the War," the blond said with a shake of his head.

Rider frowned as she eyed him. She asked, "Are you a magus?"

"A magus? How preposterous, but then I did not expect much from a whore such as yourself," he said with a laugh and a shake of his head. He threw out his arms wide and said, "I am the King of Heroes, the ruler of this world, Gilgamesh! You are fortunate enough to look upon me, whore."

Rider raised her eyebrows and said, "I have heard of delusions of grandeur, but this is rather ridiculous."

He didn't reply as he looked at her bike. He tilted his head and said, "The Faker repairs this, doesn't he?"

"Who?" Rider said with a frown as she slowly moved her hand to her glasses.

Gilgamesh answered, "The Archer of the last War. The Faker. He is mine to claim."

"You're insane," Rider said with a shake of her head, "And I rather doubt you are Archer's type."

Gilgamesh shrugged and replied, "He has no choice in the matter, but he will feel honored in the long run." Languidly, his hand reached up into the air again as the red miasma started to shimmer into view. Rider widened as she saw the swords start to appear again as she pulled off her glasses.

She stared hard at him and said, "Feel this."

His crimson eyes widened before his face crumpled into a snarl and he snapped his fingers again. Rider leapt into the air as swords riddled the ground again, pounding into the pavement and splintering it like nothing. She twisted her body to bound off the wall of a building before doing the same with another. As she continued her run, she made sure to stare at Gilgamesh to slow him down.

Archer sighed as he put the last dish away before rubbing the hand he had reached for Saber with tonight. For a brief moment she had responded, even going to the next logical step of holding his hand. I am a complete idiot, Archer thought, What the hell was I thinking? I know what I was thinking, thinking about things I shouldn't have been thinking about with Saber.

I really am a dirty old man.

He even cleaned the counter one more time to try to gather his scattered thoughts when he heard a pounding on the door. It was loud, insistent and lacked the normal politeness that Saber's familiar knock did. The white towel he had been using fell unnoticed to the floor as he ran to the steps. A moment later he threw open the door to find Rider standing there.

Locks of long, lavender hair had escaped from the tight braid she normally sported when riding and she was dressed in her leathers. However helmet was missing and her glasses were askew. Her hand shook ever so slightly as she adjusted her glasses before pitching forward.

Archer moved forward and his arms were suddenly filled with Gorgon as something sweet and coppery tickled his nostrils. A quick glance down saw crimson smeared across her back from a dripping wound from a hooked blade. She gripped his arms and said, "Archer . . . I . . ."

"Let's get you inside," Archer said.

Rider shook her head and said, "He's still following me. He's looking for you and . . . I just brought him right to you."

"It's okay. A look in the phone book would have given him the same information, but that's not the King of Heroes style, isn't it?" Archer said, his voice growing louder at the end.

As if he had summoned him, Gilgamesh stepped into the light cast from the streetlights and said, "Well, that way has no flare to it, Faker."

Archer gritted his teeth but formed a smile on his face and said, "So, what do I owe the honor to have the great Gilgamesh darkening my door step?"