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By Bottou-chan |
Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?
Later that night, one of the bodyguards slipped a note into
my hand. I hardly had to glance at what was written on it… I only needed to
verify the name.
It was from Eisaku.
A wave of accomplishment engulfed me. I wasn't finished, by any means; rather, I was just beginning. But it was a good start.
About fifteen minutes later, I was in a private room,
comfortably ensconced in a plush armchair. I sat perched daintily on the
seat's edge, extending my wineglass to be topped off. He replenished my glass,
and I looked at the bottle's label, then tasted my drink. I commented on how
superior this vintage was compared to what was being served outside in the
party.
"You don't pour fine wine into a river," he remarked
easily, pouring himself a glass and then taking a seat next to me.
"Your friends certainly are capable of drinking a
lot," I smiled.
"Isn't this your sixth glass of the night?"
"Seventh. And aren't I your friend?" I asked him
playfully. "Besides, it's impolite for a host to count like that… it's
financially depressing."
Fortunately for me, my iron stomach is a source of great
admiration amongst the Uruha. Lesser mortals may wake up with throbbing
hangovers the next day, but I'm immune to such petty trivialities.
It certainly comes in handy, though.
Eisaku
only laughed. "How true, how true." He gazed thoughtfully at me for a few
moments, and I feigned oblivion. I wasn't self-conscious at all; I knew I
looked good. I'd spent yesterday at the spa, getting a facial, a full massage,
and a manicure and pedicure. My hair had been meticulously styled this afternoon
for the event, and I had chosen a slinky black dress which emphasized the proper
curves and lines of my body, and slimmed over the ones which needed to be
hidden. I looked good, and I knew it.
Self-confidence and a good fashion sense is important in
this sort of mission.
I decided he had gazed like an idiot for long enough. I
turned slightly and caught his eye and regarded him thoughtfully for a few
moments. "Perhaps you were once a monk, and you took a vow of silence?" I
inquired lightly. "Usually, when one invites a woman for a private party, one
makes some attempt to entertain her." I raised my glass slightly. "Although
I must repeat, the wine is good."
Eisaku looked annoyed. He was obviously not used to being
reprimanded, no matter how lightly. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, a
slight edge to the question.
I continued with my play of ignorance. "You are Oonishi
Eisaku," I said. "You own this casino, and I'm dying to know who did your
interior decorating; the Mermaid Room was like a fairy tale. I read 'Monkey'
when I was little, and I very nearly expected the Dragon King to be holding his
court there."
He
laughed.
"You
have excellent taste in wine, and a good head for numbers, I'm sure, to have
been such a success in this business. It's a hard road, I understand, but if
you make it, you've really made something of yourself. Being in such a
situation, I'm sure you're terribly bored of all the flunkies you have, and
all the hangers-on, and all the people making threats and asking for favors and
wondering if you'd like to buy a table-for-eight at their fundraiser. You must
have at least two or three girlfriends stashed around somewhere, although I
don't think I've seen them around in the last hour or two."
They
had been cheap little things—dressed up and decked out in finery, but you
could still tell. I was a little disappointed in him for having such poor taste
in women, but the lack of competition made my job all that much easier.
Eisaku
nodded. "You noticed?" he asked idly, but I could tell he was prying. He was
looking for my ulterior motive…
I
gave him a knowing look. "I noticed everyone," I said coolly. "I
wouldn't go to parties if I didn't notice people."
He
allowed the subject to drop. Instead, he pulled his chair slightly closer to
mine and leaned forward a bit. It was an innocent enough move, but he was
definitely encroaching on my personal space.
I let
him.
"You
know why they're gone?" he asked, his voice also dropping in tone, as though
about to impart a secret to me… even though we were the only two in the room.
"Tell
me," I replied, amused.
"I sent them home," Eisaku replied simply. He took a
sip from his glass. "You know why?"
"Tell me." Smiling tolerance still tinged my voice.
He reached out and rested his hand just above my knee,
caressing it briefly.
"I wanted to spend some time with you. Uninterrupted."
He was inches away from my face by now, and I could smell
the wine on his breath.
I had to keep from laughing at his clumsy attempt at
seduction. Silly man… I'd been through this more times than I cared to
think. Instead, I allowed my fingers to rest absently on my collarbone, rubbing
back and forth, very gently. His eyes were fixed at my throat, as though
mesmerized.
"You know what?" I asked softly, leaning forward just a
tiny bit. The distance between our faces was rapidly diminishing; I knew he
could smell an interesting combination of my favorite perfume, the wine I had
drunk, and just my natural 'Neon' scent.
"What?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Perhaps you ought to call them back," I murmured,
gliding one hand softly across his cheek in a gentle caress. He placed his hand
over it, as though to hold it there, but I stood abruptly.
The words finally registered, and he looked at me in utter
bewilderment.
Obviously, Eisaku wasn't used to being turned down.
"What do you mean?" he demanded, looking quite hurt by
my refusal.
I scowled at him. I looked beautiful when I was angry, and
I knew it. I knew exactly how to get my eyes to flash with anger—just how far
to pout the lower lip—just the right posture to hold.
"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped irately.
"I came here with Kinjo, and I don't even know you. Who do you think you
are, that you can do such things?"
Eisaku continued to be bewildered.
I mentally prodded him… Come on… you know the proper
retort… say it…
The words finally clicked in his brain. "Kinjo works for
me," he said, his voice ominous. "Do you want anything bad to happen
to him?"
Ooooh-kay… Eisaku was moving fast. He skipped a
few steps… he was supposed to work his way up to the threats after about five
minutes of other arguments.
But I didn't miss a beat. All the aggression melted from
my body, just like that. I looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. "You
wouldn't."
How corny. It just didn't work so well, jumping from one
extreme to the other. Idiot… Eisaku needed to learn the proper order of
things.
He seemed to regain his self-assurance. "If I'm happy
with Kinjo, Kinjo does well," he said, taking a few steps nearer to me. I
backed up, into a wall, and allowed myself to be cornered. "If I have reason
to be unhappy with Kinjo, though… he doesn't do so well."
"But you wouldn't hurt Kinjo because of me," I
argued, looking searchingly at him with a pitiful face. "You wouldn't do
that."
This was the part where he should say, "No, you're
right," and let me go and continue the pursuit later. It would keep my faith
in him from being shattered; it would keep him from appearing to be the bad guy;
it would be the best thing all the way around.
Eisaku shrugged indifferently. "Things happen."
Oooo, good line there. Hardly. How's that supposed
to seduce me?!
I stepped forward, right into his arms. "Please don't
do anything bad to Kinjo," I begged him.
It didn't help that I was nearly a head taller than him,
in my heels.
A sly smile crept across his features. He knew he'd
won… It almost made me want to slap him. I have my pride, too, you know, but
more often than not, on assignments, it gets subdued.
He took my hand and led me to a low, plush couch which was
against one wall, under a window with burgundy drapes. "Why don't you have a
seat, pet, and we can discuss it?" he suggested.
