Disclaimer: All characters belong to Square.

Author's Note: Feel free to point out any mistakes, but please do remember that is a fanfic, and it's bound to have something you didn't expect. Try to stay open-minded, as the story won't follow the game exactly. I'd just like to point out that I don't know much French. You've been warned. (Although I did go out and get a English-French dictionary/phrasebook, it's not helping too much...)

Summary: Serge & Kid go on their date.

... are thoughts.

The Contest, Part 4: The Cat's Dance


As she did every morning, Harle began her day with a series of stretches and flips. It was important for her to stay in shape, as the people around Serge had a tendency to be attacked at random. Besides, the better shape she was in, the better the chance Serge would one day abandon his "let's be friends" attitude and drag her back to his room for a long, sleepless night. Of course, that was just a fantasy. Of hers, anyway. But it was a fond, frequent one.

At any rate, Harle usually got up earlier than everyone else. So she was a little surprised when someone knocked on her door.

"Oui? Who iz it?"

The door opened, and Pip stuck his head in. "Hiya, Clown Lady."

"Bonjour, Monsieur Pip!" Harle went on with her stretches, barely noticing when Razzly followed Pip into the room and closed the door.

"Harle, could you stop doing that for a minute?" the fairy asked. "We need to talk to you."

"I am afraid I cannot, Mademoiselle Razzly," Harle replied as she walked up the wall. "If ze exercises are not complete by a certain time, I shall become, how you say...stiff. But I am listening."

"Well, okay. Can you tell us what happened between you and Serge last night?"

From her position on the ceiling, Harle paused and sat down, or up, as the case was (which looked very difficult, to say the least). "Hmm. I did sense a naughty pair of spying eyes when we returned. Could zey have belonged to you?"

Razzly blushed. "Okay, that was me, but I was just worried about Sergey."

"Ah, oui. As we all are. But back to your question." Harle suddenly vanished and reappeared beside them. "If you must know, I was asking mon chéri if he would reconsider his decision for us to remain friends."

"So...what did he say?" Razzly asked.

"Wasn't it obvious?"

"Is dat why you hit him?" Pip asked.

"Hit him?" Harle was clearly surprised. "Why do you say..." Understanding dawned on her, and she laughed. "You have it all wrong, mon ami. I would never attack Serge."

"Then why'd he fall like that?"

"I am not quite sure myself. I remember placing my hands on chest, and zat was when he jumped back. I assumed he had wounded himself earlier. I wanted to call ze doctor, but mon chéri would not hear of it." She sighed quietly. "I do worry about him."

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Serge was having his own flashbacks of his date with Harle. Everything, for the most part, had been fine until she accidentally touched his chest. She didn't know about his scars, so she hadn't realized how much pain he'd been in. And though she had been asking for him to consider her as more than a friend seconds before, Harle had instantly been by his side, asking if he needed a doctor, and if he was okay, as a true friend would. She had even helped him up to his bedroom without so much as a hint of flirting.

That was actually the good part.

But then she had refused to leave until she knew what had caused him so much pain. Finally, he'd sat down on the bed and taken off his shirt. Her reaction was not one he'd particularly expected. She had initially covered her mouth, attempting to hide the tiny gasp that escaped her lips. Then she began to cry.

Serge was still trying to figure out why when Harle drew him into her arms and held him gently. He could feel her fingers running through his hair, and for once, the action calmed him, instead of making him turn crimson. She started whispering something, over and over again. It took him a while to recognize the words as French, but his was rusty, at best. However, he made a mental note to remember as many of the words as he could.

After a while, Harle left the room and soon returned with a tray of bandages and a bottle of green liquid. As she went to work dressing his wounds, Serge realized that it was a weakened form of CureAll, something he was very familiar with. While it didn't provide the best protection, it didn't sting as much as other ointments would.

Serge noticed that Harle didn't speak while she was working. She never asked where the wounds had come from, but the look in her eyes told him she had a pretty good idea. There was almost no expression on her face as all, which was very strange for someone like her. He'd come to appreciate her smile, even if it was accompanied by a remark so dirty that even Kid did a double take.

When she was done, Harle started to take the ointment away, then thought better of it and left the tray by the bed. She had gently hugged him and kissed the corner of his mouth before whispering something in his ear that he assumed was a French version of "sleep well."

He hadn't been able to sleep, so he'd gone to talk to Kid. After that, he *really* couldn't sleep, so Serge had gone off in search of a book among the inn's limited selection of reading material. He finally found what he was looking for: a dark red book that was almost as thick as his chest.

As it turned out, Harle had actually been saying something along the lines of "my fault" and "forgive me." Those parts only surprised him a little. It was the last thing that nearly made him drop the book. In short, Harle hadn't been saying "sleep well." At least, that wasn't all she'd said. But when Serge finally found out what "mon amour" actually meant, he really wished he'd never found the book at all.

* * * * *

The breakfast table was unusually quiet. Even Kid and Harle, who had normally traded six or seven insults ten seconds into the meal, were silent.

"Too quiet," Pip muttered. He picked up a sausage and threw it across the table. The meat bounced off Serge's forehead and rolled onto Kid's plate. Strangely enough, neither of the teens did anything about it.

After a while, Kid stood up and walked out of the front door. Not having anything better to do, Pip followed her. Razzly left to visit some of her "sisters", which left Serge and Harle at the table.

"Feeling better today, mon ami?" she asked suddenly.

Serge stiffened, then settled down when he remembered that the word meant friend. "I guess. What ever happened to 'mon amour'?"

Harle lowered her eyes. "Zat...it just...came out," she replied slowly.

"Did you mean it?"

Silence.

Serge moved to the chair beside her and cupped her chin in his hand. "Did you mean it, Harle?" he asked a second time.

"Please don't ask me zat now, Serge."

"I can't think of a better time to ask."

She sighed, then looked into his eyes. "Your scars...did zey come from...him?"

Serge nodded.

"Zen...yes. I meant it."

"What if they hadn't come from him?"

"I would still mean it," she answered. "It just...wouldn't hurt az much to say so."

"Harle, you didn't even know me back then. I don't blame you for what he did to me."

"But what if I do, mon ami?" she asked, pulling away from him.

Serge caught her wrist and pulled her into his lap. "Then I would say your costume fits you perfectly, because you'd have to be a fool to think that." He knew the pain in her eyes was from her guilt and not from his comment, but he felt bad about it, anyway.

Harle shook her head sadly. "Serge, zese feelings I have for you...I am afraid zat you will never return zem. Until you have made your choice, I do not t'ink we should be together."

This time, Serge didn't stop her when she pulled away. She did have a good point. After all, Kid was bound to stir up some old feelings tonight, and then he'd have two days to make his decision. It wasn't exactly something he was looking forward to.

* * * * *

"Dis way, Suge! Ooh, watch youa step!"

Serge growled underneath his breath. He hated being blindfolded, and liked walking around like that even less. Having Pip lead him was possibly the worse idea Kid had ever had. He'd already fallen three times, and his legs were screaming for rest. He would probably be in no condition to do any sort of dancing. That is, if he even survived the trip.

Pip seemed to sense Serge's thoughts. "Don't wowwy, Suge! I'll get you to da place!"

"But will I be in one piece?" Serge asked. He wasn't surprised when he got no reply.

Finally, Pip stopped pushing him. "Okay, you can take it off now!"

Serge quickly removed the blindfold and looked around. He was standing inside a large ballroom. Though it was very crowded, he could see a band warming up against the far wall.

"Well, my woak is done hea," Pip said. "I should go. Have fun!"

Before Serge could move to stop him, Pip vanished in a puff of purple smoke.

Maybe it won't be so bad. Even if I've never danced a day in my life, I could still learn a step or two pretty quickly. Maybe...

"I was startin' to think you wouldn't show up, mate."

Serge turned to find Kid behind him. She was wearing her usual outfit that hugged in all the right places, but there was definitely something different about her. Whatever it was, Serge quickly forgot about the perilous journey on the way with Pip, as well as the fact that his legs were still aching.

Kid smirked. "You gonna stare at me all night, or you gonna ask me to dance?"

Serge blinked and turned his head. The band had started playing, almost as if on cue.

Kid grabbed his hand and dragged him to the center of the floor. "It's time to break you out of that daze, Serge, and I know just how to do it."

He was about to protest, but when Kid shot him one of her 'just-bloody-do-it-before-I-slug-you' looks, Serge swallowed noisily and silently hoped it would be over soon.

* * * * *

Harle had no intention of telling Razzly and Pip anything that took place after she and Serge returned from their date. Of course, that was before Pip had curled up in her lap and given her the biggest, wateriest puppy-dog eyes that anyone could possibly possess.

"C'mon, Harle!" Razzly groaned, hovering around her head. "Just tell us what else happened!"

"No! Zat is between moi and mon chéri, and no one else!" Harle shuddered and glared at Pip. "Now get him away from me!"

"Pwetty pwease, Hawwe?" Pip asked quietly, sticking out his bottom lip so it trembled a bit.

Harle closed her eyes. "If Serge wanted you to know, he would have told you. Since he did not, you will get not'ing from me, either!"

Pip sniffled. "You a mean clown lady!" He burst into tears.

Harle sighed and gently patted his head. "Do not cry, mon ami."

Pip hopped out of her lap. "I'm telling Suge you was mean to me!" he sobbed before running out of the room. Razzly followed, pausing to throw one more glare at Harle before slamming the door behind her.

Harle rolled her eyes and lay down on her bed. Mon chéri, I will guard your secrets, as you have guarded mine. I only wish you would tell me more of them, for you are still a mystére to Harle.

* * * * *

You're doing great. One, two, and move; one, two, and move. Perfect. Now, if you could just stop staring at the wall, you idiot!

Serge blinked, slowly realizing that he'd been talking to himself again. It was a bad habit, according to Kid, but she only said that because she'd rather he talked to her. He took a moment to glance at her. Kid had been fairly quiet since they'd started dancing, and for some reason, it was disturbing. Not daring to stop their dance, Serge removed a hand from her waist and gently poked her in the ribs.

Kid pulled back enough to look at him, but she didn't release her hold on him. "What is it, mate?"

"Are you sure about this, Kid? I mean, about us...being together?"

"Well, sounds like someone's havin' doubts, and it ain't me."

"Sorry," Serge said. "It's just that...this contest is really making me nervous. Even if I do manage to pick someone, I might make the wrong choice, and then I'd have to live with-"

Kid pressed a finger to his lips. "Serge, shut up." She smiled a bit. "I don't care about any stupid contest right now. I care about you and me havin' a good time tonight. So shut your piehole and at least pretend you're havin' fun. Okay?"

"I don't have to pretend," he replied, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

For a moment, she only stared into his eyes, as if trying to decide whether he was telling the truth or not. Finally, Kid wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "Thanks, mate. You really know how to make a girl feel special."

Serge shook his head as he slipped his arms around her waist. "You were special long before you met me, Kid. I just made it more obvious."

There was silence for a moment, but then she whispered, "Hey, Serge?"

"Yes?"

Kid hesitated. "Did you really miss me?"

Serge chuckled to himself. "For most of my quest, you were my best friend. How could I not miss you?"

Kid tightened her grip on him and brushed her lips against his ear. "But that was then. What am I to you now, mate?"

Serge gently squeezed her waist. "I guess we'll find out together, Kid."

* * * * *

Kid frowned when she realized what was wrong. "Serge?"

"Yes?"

"You're...dancin'."

"Um...I know that, Kid."

"No, you're dancin'...well. Very well. Even I don't know some of this stuff."

"Really?" Serge stopped to look at her. "Weird."

Kid stared at his face. There was something odd about it, something that was missing.

"Kid, what's wrong?" Serge asked.

She shook her head. "Nothin'. Forget I said anything, mate." She slipped her arms back around his neck and continued the dance, trying to ignore the annoying voice inside her head.

* * * * *

Razzly had almost reached the front door of the inn when she heard a rustling in the bushes. "Is anyone there?" she called, scanning the forest with her eyes. Her eyes landed on a white cat that stepped into view. "Hi, kitty! Are you lost?"

The cat's reply was to lick its paw and wave its tail.

Razzly flew over to the cat and stroked its fur. The cat purred and rubbed against her legs.

"Maybe Sergey will let me keep you. Would you like that, kitty?"

The cat suddenly hissed and scratched her hand.

"Ouch!" Razzly cried, backing away from it. The wound wasn't deep, but she could see blood starting to seep from the cut. It was then that she noticed the bushes were watching.

But it wasn't the bushes. It was hundreds of yellow, evil eyes. And among them, a smoldering green pair that she would never forget.

Razzly turned to run for the door, but a cat flew over her right shoulder, scratching her cheek as it flew past. She screamed as more cats went by, their cuts becoming deeper and deeper. By the time Razzly did reach the door, she had lost a lot of blood, and only had enough strength to throw herself against it.

The door flew open, and Harle stepped out.

The cats instantly drew back and retreated into the bushes.

Harle watched the bushes for a moment, then kneeled to carefully pick up Razzly. "Mon ami, can you hear me?" she asked.

Razzly's eyes fluttered open. "Harle, you've got to find Sergey and Kid! They're still out there!"

"I will find them later, Razzly. Until zen, I do not t'ink mon chéri would be very happy if I allowed you to die."

"But I don't understand! I was just petting the kitty, and...they just came at me!"

Harle frowned. "I know zat attack, and you are lucky zat I came before it was completed. But for now, you must rest, mon ami, and save your strength. You will need it."

* * * * *

Serge had always been the courageous type. At least, when it came to battling dragons, demons, and warriors. But when it came to girls, he was extremely shy. So when Kid felt Serge's hands slip past the designated 'okay zone', (and she had made very sure that he knew about it) she knew something was wrong, and there was no reason not to be blunt about it. "Serge, just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Serge looked into her eyes. "I thought you wanted us to have fun tonight, Kid."

"I do, but you-"

"Have never had a better time with anyone else."

Kid's expression softened a bit. "Mate-"

"You know, you use that word a lot." Serge's face was suddenly a lot closer to hers. "But I wonder, Kid."

"W-Wonder what?" she whispered.

"If you really mean it, of course. You do know what a mate is, don't you?"

Kid's face turned bright red. "Serge!"

"Don't fight it, Kid." He leaned closer, his lips centimeters from hers. "We both know this is exactly what you want."

When he kissed her, Kid failed to notice a lot of things. She didn't notice that Serge was acting very strangely, even for him. She didn't notice that the ballroom was now empty. She didn't even notice when a familiar demi-human appeared beside them, his green eyes gleaming with delight.

But when she finally broke the kiss, Kid did notice one thing. Serge's eyes were no longer very blue. In fact, they were very green, and the look on his face was one that she had only seen once before on him, but many times on the face of another. It was one that told her all she needed to know.

"You're mine, Kid."

If she had been aware of his presence, Kid wouldn't have known that the voice came from Lynx. All she could see was the intense, green light behind Serge's eyes, which were no longer his...

Continued in Part 5: The Missing Lynx


Before you ask, the reopening of Serge's scars will be explained next time... Comments, questions, and anything else are encouraged.