Title: Play of the Fates (0 of ?)

Author: Paola

Disclaimer: Play of the Fates is based on characters and situations that belong to Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asashi (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited. References to real company/ies, historical figure/s, and other personality/ies, dead or alive, are purely fictional. Beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author's. The idea to make the chapter titles begin with "The One…" is from the TV show, F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Rating: M

Warning: Adult situations. Cursing.

Play of the Fates

Prologue: The One With The Apple Martini

She would've sped through the streets of downtown Orb towards her favorite watering hole. Except it was a Friday night and traffic was unrelenting. So here she was, stuck to stew in her displeasure amid the blaring horns of impatient drivers.

Cagalli tried to catch a cleansing breath, but it seemed to be wasted effort. There was no calming her down; at least, not until she'd had a glass or two of very strong stuff in her. With the day she'd had though, maybe even alcohol poisoning wasn't enough.

It began with being woken up by an unwelcome phone call from her overbearing father, followed by spilt coffee all over her kitchen floor – clear signs that the universe was telling her to go back to bed. But being the trooper that she was, she'd braved her day job where her temporary boss proceeded to breathe down her neck in a useless show of power to get her to work faster on a presentation for a meeting she hadn't even been invited to.

She did damn good work, if a minute late, and was called inefficient for her effort. What the flying fuck.

As if she hadn't had enough of a bad day already, a scooter snaked its way past her stilled car and sideswiped her side mirror. Just great. If there was one more thing to go wrong tonight, she was going to scream.

Traffic crawled, and it took her another agonizing 20 minutes to get to Freedom Metropolis, but she was nothing if determined and it only took her another five minutes to scare the valet with one look, stride across the expansive lobby, and disappear down the carpeted stairwell.

Freedom Metropolis was one of the grandest five-star hotels this side of Orb, and her only indulgence given her meager salary. She had discovered their speakeasy through her ex a few years back, and while her relationship with her ex had soured quickly, her relationship with Freedom did not. There was a certain kind of poetry in there somewhere, and she was offhandedly relieved to keep a place to run off to when the universe had it in for her.

While she wasn't one to drink her troubles away, she would occasionally give in and nurse a drink or two. Nothing crazy, just enough to take the edge off. After all, she still had to drive home, and as reckless as she was sometimes, she wasn't stupid as to drive home intoxicated. The Fates might not always be on her side, but she damn loved to be on the side of the living.

Cagalli ordered the cocktail for the night, an apple martini that was equal parts sweet and bitter. She allowed herself to be slowly lulled by the soft cadence of the lounge music, and after a few more sips, she consciously worked on letting go of her bad mood. It was Friday, after all, and the weekend would be so much better if she didn't welcome it on a bad note.

Just when she was about to order another, someone took the stool beside her, taking up space by design to get her attention. She was met with bright emerald eyes when she turned her head, and there was nothing not-sexy in the amused smile casually thrown her way.

Cagalli vaguely heard him order for another round, and the low timber of his voice roused something in the pit of her stomach.

"Thanks," she managed to get out when the bartender replenished her poison.

"Sure," was his easy reply.

Cagalli could see his gaze dip down to her lips, and she was reminded of how long ago it was since she'd had sex. Maybe that was why she was having a bad day. She needed to get laid.

"Any occasion you're out celebrating?" she ventured, trying to be discreet in her ogling, but goddamn, Prada had never looked so good on anyone.

The brunette laughed, a rich sound that sent tiny tingles down her spine. "Maybe I'm celebrating meeting you here."

The giggle that Cagalli produced was definitely foreign-sounding to her own ears. "I think you need to polish your pickup lines."

"A pickup line assumes I have intent," he volleyed, but the way his eyes were looking at her more than told her that oh yes, he did have intent.

"Don't you?" Cagalli's reply was almost a whisper. Two glasses in and she was feeling lightheaded, but the attention he was paying her was siphoning through her better judgment. Whoever he was, he was hot and it was Friday, and dammit she deserved to end the week happy.

Whatever conversation that might have transpired after that was a blur because she'd just broken her two-glass rule. The buzz in her head hit an alarming note, and the next thing she knew, they were stumbling through an empty corridor, fumbling for his keycard, and lost in heated kisses and wandering hands.

As soon as he got the door open, Cagalli found herself against the wall, with him pressed sinfully against her, his lips trailing liquid fire down her neck as he un-tucked her shirt from her pants. She moaned when he nibbled on her collarbone, and her hands shakily shed off his jacket. But before she could attempt to unbutton his dress shirt, he'd already deftly opened her blouse, sending her arching towards him when his hands made contact with her sensitized skin.

He pulled her off the door, working on the clasp of her pants that easily slid off her hips once he'd pulled down the zipper. He led them to the bed, his lips never leaving hers as he plundered every crevice of her mouth.

The pooling desire in her stomach grew, and Cagalli had a hard time breathing when he lay her down and finally shed his own shirt. She looked her fill, anticipating how good his naked skin would feel against her own, and when he was looming above her, Cagalli glorified in the feeling of hard planes against her exploring fingertips.

She looked up with hazy eyes and ached to have him touch her again, but when he ducked his head to capture her lips, she was a bit frustrated to feel the grainy texture of his wool pants moving against her thighs. She slightly pushed him away, but he merely chuckled at her when he noticed her nimble fingers going for his belt.

Despite how distracting his kisses were, she made short work of his pants, eager to feel him completely naked. And his hands were never idle either, slip-sliding on every patch of skin and leaving burning imprints in their wake.

With a flick of his wrist he'd unclasped her bra and thrown it away. Cagalli felt a million sensations when he trailed open-mouthed kisses from her mouth to the vale of her breasts. She hadn't felt like this in so long, and the feeling of being lavished all over sent her teetering over the edge of rational thinking.

She let out another moan when he cupped her over her panties, and she arched towards him involuntarily. He slid down her underwear so achingly slowly that she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. What a fucking tease.

Just when she thought she'd cry from the wait, he was already pressing against her, his weight settling on top of her, heated skin over heated skin, and Cagalli couldn't get enough.

He kissed her hard, nibbling on her lower lip before plunging his tongue in, robbing her of any stray thought she might still be having. She felt his arousal pressing against her, and her legs opened to accommodate him. Still he lingered there, kneading her breasts and barely acknowledging her silent entreaty to take her. She ran her nails across his back and tried to push him in her, but he resisted, moving his hand to rest on her lower abdomen to keep her from cambering towards him.

Cagalli almost growled in frustration, but then he took a nipple in his mouth, and Cagalli arched. His fingers found her wetness, and he played her like a violin, fingers purposeful and Cagalli couldn't help but move her hips.

It was too good, and she needed more…except there was no need to ask because he'd taken his fingers away, and with a shift, he entered her, a sweep so sweet, it made Cagalli throw her head back.

He sucked the base of her throat then made his way to her ears, leaving searing trails where his lips touched her skin. "You feel so good," he said in a breathy whisper, and Cagalli shivered at the warm air that ghosted the side of her face. He buried himself in her, waiting for her to adjust around him before setting the pace — a slow, torturous movement that tickled Cagalli's sanity.

For long, agonizing seconds, he teased her with deliberately leisurely drives, retreating almost to full-extent before sliding back in to be fully sheathed in her.

She was going crazy. "Fas—"

He cut her off by sealing his mouth over hers, his hands cradling her hips, and he began to pick up his rhythm, almost as if reading her mind. Cagalli wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his every thrust with as much fervor.

This…This was how Friday nights should be, Cagalli thought, and her problems, already dulled by the alcohol from earlier, were eradicated completely as this man she'd just met made love to her the way she'd wished her former boyfriends had.

Cagalli felt the intense tension build up inside her, the tide of pleasure so strong it threatened to pull her under. And it wasn't as if she was resisting. If anything, she'd welcome the surrender.

He moved in her like a man with a purpose, so successfully robbing her of any coherent thought. And as if he wasn't already doing enough, he moved a hand to where they were joined, flicking his fingers over the nub that sent Cagalli helplessly clamping around him.

And on a particular down stroke so timely, she shattered, the whine of pleasure from her lips muffled by the well-timed kiss he favored her. She tumbled into a kaleidoscope of sensations whose boundaries were too blurry to distinguish one from the other, and he followed soon after.

He remained on top and inside of her, dragging scorching lazy kisses along her jaw line as they tried to catch their breaths.

Nibbling on her lower lip, he pulled himself away, Cagalli feeling the slide of retreat and relishing how it made her toes curl. But he never went anywhere, settling beside her and ghosting fingertips over sweat-slicked skin. His hand made quick progress southwards, unabashed, and it didn't take long before his skillful fingers had succeeded in rekindling the desire in her.

That night, Cagalli came thrice, drowning in a pool of bliss that had started off with a sexy smile and an apple martini.

Notes:

Unsure if anyone reading this Prologue has read PotF before, but I just had to revamp this.

Working on revamping the next chapters so for those who've stumbled upon this just now, the succeeding chapters are gonna read so differently. Be warned.