Wonderland
*
"What are *you* doing here?" cried the two at once, still goggling at each other. The woman had returned with a mop and a bucket; she gave them both an odd look, one eyebrow raised and the other eye narrowed doubtfully, as she proceeded to barge between the two, mopping up the still spreading puddle of coffee. The wooden handle smacked Harry in the face as she 'mopped' right across. His hand flew up to his nose and he touched it lightly, automatically feeling to find if he was bleeding or if the skin was tender. Briefly, he glared at the woman.
"Well," Leena was saying, being the first to answer the communal question, "I'm pretty sure I was getting a coffee--" Here she glanced meaningfully down where the Styrofoam cup remained, an oasis in a squeaky, shiny lake of tiles. "--as you can tell." Balling up the pile of dampened napkins, she glanced down at them, frowning as she realized she had nowhere to put them. The mop-woman quickly remedied this situation - she firmly took the ball of napkins and stalked off. Apparently, she was not happy with either of the two for spoiling her clean floor. A moment of silence ensued and Harry, suddenly feeling a reactionary twinge of shyness, fiddled with his thumbs, glancing down at the floor. The bags she'd been carrying were spilled across the floor, revealing a few toys, and several wrapped packages.
"You, uh," he started, mentally kicking himself - real eloquent, Harry, he thought, what a way with words. Clearing his throat, he started again. "You've dropped your bags...Leena." It felt odd to be saying that name again, after...what? Six years? If it felt odd, it also felt remarkably...right. He shook his head lightly, stooping down beside Leena, who was crouching, stuffing parcels back into department store bags, setting them upright. Grasping a small, enormously plush teddy bear, Harry picked it up and smiled lightly, if not without an old trace of bitterness. It was the kind of plump, adorable teddy that was to be given to a lover or a child, and the old twinge of fondness for the brash woman beside him was back, lightly.
Damn! Not now! There were far too many embarrassing moments tied up with his old, forgotten emotions for her, and he did not need them at any point!
"Who's the toy for?" he asked, anyway, before he could stop himself. He was thankful, though, that his question sounded innocent and harmless, as if he was simply curious to know.
"My niece," Leena replied, turning to look at him with a soft smile, something she had never used before. "She loves teddy bears and I decided to pay a little extra at my shop for this one." Seeing his somewhat confused expression, she laughed, taking the bear and placing it on top of a boxed toy car. With her old gusto, she slapped Harry on the back and he was shoved forward a bit, the air rushing out of his lungs at the force. "I own a toy shop!" she informed him cheerfully, not noticing him gasping and holding his hand to his chest. "Tauros Toys; it's on the other side of town. I live upstairs of it." Finally, she noted Harry's reddened complexion as he tugged at his shirt. "Something the matter?" she questioned.
"No," he wheezed out, running a hand through his short brown hair. "Perfectly...fine!" He flashed a thumbs-up sign at her and she smiled again, scooping her bags up on her arms and standing up. He made a face, unfolding himself to his full height. "So," he began.
"Shop's closing!" the woman yelled from behind the counter, unplugging the coffee machine. "If you want to gab, then go over there!' She jabbed a finger over the top of the counter, indicating an incredibly bright building that read "Anything Goes Café, Restaurant, and Books" over the equally bright glass door. Grumbling could be heard emanating from under the counter: "mess up my tiles...make a mess, stand there yakking away...what does this look like, a Starbucks?"
Harry grinned sheepishly and Leena snorted, rolling her eyes. "New management," she whispered to him, although it was more of a stage whisper due to his taller frame. "She's rather mean."
He coughed into his hand, grinning, and Leena motioned with her thumb out the window. "Might as well take up her suggestion, ne?"
"Right," he nodded, cheeks turning a light pink, to his inner mortification. "Um, you lead the way."
Idiot, he scolded mentally as he followed the bags-laden woman out. You're over being a shy, over-bearing romantic!
"Well, that wasn't very kind of her," Luanne muttered darkly, glaring over her shoulder at the coffee shop manager and grimacing at the rude woman. "I've decided I'm never going there again."
"I don't know," Pierre said sweetly in reply, clamping his arms about her waist and swinging her up into his arms, regardless of her coattails flying up and her booted feet smacking his abdomen. "I find you quite alluring when you are angry, my sweet." TO top it off, he flashed a gleaming, perfect smile at her, pursing his lips slightly.
Furious at her responding blush, she kicked her foot back, catching him in the ribs. "Put me down," she hissed, face unnaturally warm, "and don't look like you're going to kiss me!" With that, she kicked backwards again, and he grunted quietly, setting her down swiftly before he dropped her unflatteringly. Sweeping her hands down along her coat, she glared at the French angel for a moment, then tossed her silver hair, turning her back to him. "You have no right to treat me that way," she spoke icily.
"But love," he all but whined, tentatively placing his hands on her slim shoulders, "I was only trying to show you my aff--" The next thing Pierre knew, he was upside down, face first in a drift of snow that had been shoveled up to the curb by a plow.
"We--are--on--duty!!" she screamed, scaring the living daylights out of a nearby group of nuns, who all backed away from her. She kicked him and proceeded to continue her yelling; most of it went along the lines of how they were *supposed* to be getting Harry and Leena together, and he was trying to cop a feel off her, and she swore she would tell the Archangel, and *then* where would he be? As she ranted, throwing her arms around, a light, sketchy outline of an absurdly small, otherwise invisible pair of wings began forming in the air. Pierre, pulling himself out of the snowdrift, shook his head to rid his hair of the snowflakes, then noted that the same nuns who had been frightened of Luanne before were now etching crosses over their hearts and staring at her in awe. "And you are an idiot!" she bellowed in finality. An agreeing 'pop!' sounded behind her and she froze.
"And *you* lost your temper," remarked Pierre off-handedly as she turned bright red, her small pair of silver wings visible now. "Quite lovely, your wings."
"Shut-up!" she wailed, and they vanished in a flurry of red hearts and silver stars.
It was quite possibly the worst soup Harry had ever had in his entire life, and that included his mother's cooking. The fact remained that he prayed to God that if he eventually was going to throw it all up, it would be later, when he was alone. And, most hopefully, not in front of Leena. Still, he managed a smile after she smiled at him, she having taken a sip of it herself. O, God, he thought desperately, give me strength of stomach...
"You said you had a niece?" he prompted, focusing on one of the two things he now knew about her current living. Hell, he thought, better than none.
"Mm!" she swallowed quickly, setting her spoon on her napkin. "That's right!" She paused momentarily, taking a quick drink of her water. "You remember Naomi Flugal, right?" He nodded. "Well, apparently, Leon and she figured out that they cared for each other - a few months before I left the Blitz team. Anyway, I guess Naomi's mom found out they were living together - before they actually *got* together, if you know what I mean - and she spazzed. Somehow, she got them to attend a seminar on sinful lifestyles, which made them guilty, which, in some bizarre way I don't even want to know about, had them married in less than three months. They had the triplets about a year later - Cade, Jordan, and Roscoe." She paused again, grinning wryly. "Guess which one's the girl." Another pause. "Roscoe."
Harry chocked on his drink, and Leena threw her head back, laughing unabashedly. "Roscoe?" he blinked. "They named their daughter Roscoe?"
"That was my granddad's name," she giggled, her laughter subsiding. "Cade was my grandmother's."
"Huh," he blinked again, "go figure."
"Yeah," agreed Leena, "Naomi has the weirdest sense of humor. I haven't seen any of them in almost a year." She trailed off, staring wistfully into space. "I miss having a family around for Christmas."
"So do I," Harry concurred. At her questioning look, he added, "My family's gone this year." He grimaced. "I have to design the annual Christmas bash on my own. I don't even have servants to do it for me!" he groused, sliding down a little in his chair, arms hanging by his side.
Leena stared, then laughed, again, jabbing her spoon in his direction. "You," she said incredulously, a smile still on her face, "are upset because you don't have servants to plan your party for you?" She dropped her spoon on the table, clapping her hands together and laughing. "I don't even have workers at my store! I've run it for the past five years, on my own, every day but the holidays, and you can't plan a party? Oh, that is *rich*!" She continued laughing, her face scrunching up, dark pink locks bouncing with every shake of her body.
Harry sulked, straightening his back and scowling. "You say that like you think I'm spoiled!" he said indignantly.
"I do!" she replied cheerfully. "When *you* date a certain arrogant blonde teammate, break up with him, leave your family's Zoids team because of said break-up, start your own business, and manage to keep it going after a huge toy store opens up across the street, *then* I won't think you're spoiled!"
Sometime after she had said 'break up,' Harry's face had grown thoughtful. "Broke up?" repeated Harry, slowly, and she slowly altered moods, growing serious.
"Yes," she said quietly. "Bit and I broke up."
"I'm," he tailed off for a moment, swallowing, "sorry, Leena."
"Hey, it's okay!" she said brightly, despite a glint of pain in her eyes. "We just weren't meant for each other, I guess!"
Harry said nothing.
"What are they talking about?" Luanne hissed to Pierre, hiding behind her unfolded menu. She was still embarrassed from her display earlier. "Can't you hear them?"
"Shush," he ordered, squeezing his blue eyes shut and listening carefully. When he opened them again, it was slowly; he looked almost worried.
"What?" Luanne wanted to know. "What? What?"
"They're talking about Bit," he sighed, resting his forehead on his palm.
"Nooo!" she moaned, slouching and dropping her head onto the tabletop. "Why do they have to talk about him? They're supposed to be talking about...about..."
Pierre remarked, his voice muffled by his wrist, "Perhaps we should have thought of this before we got them to meet up at the coffee shop?" He fell silent, listening once more, then smiled. "They're talking about Leon and Naomi now."
"Leon and Naomi?" Luanne pursed her lips from where her cheek lay on the table, glancing up at Pierre. "Didn't we get them together a few years ago?"
"Shh," he motioned with one hand, his attention obviously distracted by the conversation held by their targets. "They're talking about children."
Luanne sat up like a rod, a grin forming on her face instantly. "Children, hmm?" she asked with a coy tone. "I have a plan! Let's go!" She slid out of the booth and grabbed Pierre's elbow, pulling him to his feet beside her. "We'll have to start tomorrow; we need to go see the Higher Angels about obtaining permission for a youth trick."
"You know what?" remarked Leena out of nowhere, in the lull following their conversation about childhood dreams and mistakes. "This soup is the worst I've ever had!"
Harry froze, the spoon halfway to his mouth, and grinned. "I know!" he nodded, letting his spoon plummet down into the bowl. "I didn't want to offend you if you liked it..."
"And I didn't want to seem rude," Leena continued. She grinned, too.
For a moment, Harry entertained the thought that she had chosen him - entertained the thought that she cared about him. He dismissed it quickly.
Couldn't afford another broken heart.
*
End AN: Gaw, this chapter sucks. *sighs* Well, let's see what the public thinks.
Anyway, the next chapter will be longer, so it will take a while to write and get out; apologies are due to everyone who is already pissed at me for taking an absurd length of time to get this chapter out. I found the disk, only to find chapter two wasn't on it, so I had to write the entire thing. [And I'll be keeping it by the computer from now on!]
This chapter, crap though it may be, is dedicated to Rinon Toros, who wrote an absolutely lovely Harry/Leena fanfic entitled "Sickness," which I highly recommend. It is wonderful and it helped get me off my butt to finish the last part of this chapter. So, a major call-out to Rinon Toros-san, and a thousand hugs to everyone who reviewed!
So much anti-Harry feeling all over the 'net! PallaPlease is sad...
PallaPlease.
["Stick up for the underdog." ~slogan of the "GIR Appreciation Society" (all of which is (c) to me)
"Chickens here, chickens there! Chickens, chickens, everywhere!" ~random
"My opinion is that my opinion is better than yours." ~An Internet bumpersticker I'm designing]
*
"What are *you* doing here?" cried the two at once, still goggling at each other. The woman had returned with a mop and a bucket; she gave them both an odd look, one eyebrow raised and the other eye narrowed doubtfully, as she proceeded to barge between the two, mopping up the still spreading puddle of coffee. The wooden handle smacked Harry in the face as she 'mopped' right across. His hand flew up to his nose and he touched it lightly, automatically feeling to find if he was bleeding or if the skin was tender. Briefly, he glared at the woman.
"Well," Leena was saying, being the first to answer the communal question, "I'm pretty sure I was getting a coffee--" Here she glanced meaningfully down where the Styrofoam cup remained, an oasis in a squeaky, shiny lake of tiles. "--as you can tell." Balling up the pile of dampened napkins, she glanced down at them, frowning as she realized she had nowhere to put them. The mop-woman quickly remedied this situation - she firmly took the ball of napkins and stalked off. Apparently, she was not happy with either of the two for spoiling her clean floor. A moment of silence ensued and Harry, suddenly feeling a reactionary twinge of shyness, fiddled with his thumbs, glancing down at the floor. The bags she'd been carrying were spilled across the floor, revealing a few toys, and several wrapped packages.
"You, uh," he started, mentally kicking himself - real eloquent, Harry, he thought, what a way with words. Clearing his throat, he started again. "You've dropped your bags...Leena." It felt odd to be saying that name again, after...what? Six years? If it felt odd, it also felt remarkably...right. He shook his head lightly, stooping down beside Leena, who was crouching, stuffing parcels back into department store bags, setting them upright. Grasping a small, enormously plush teddy bear, Harry picked it up and smiled lightly, if not without an old trace of bitterness. It was the kind of plump, adorable teddy that was to be given to a lover or a child, and the old twinge of fondness for the brash woman beside him was back, lightly.
Damn! Not now! There were far too many embarrassing moments tied up with his old, forgotten emotions for her, and he did not need them at any point!
"Who's the toy for?" he asked, anyway, before he could stop himself. He was thankful, though, that his question sounded innocent and harmless, as if he was simply curious to know.
"My niece," Leena replied, turning to look at him with a soft smile, something she had never used before. "She loves teddy bears and I decided to pay a little extra at my shop for this one." Seeing his somewhat confused expression, she laughed, taking the bear and placing it on top of a boxed toy car. With her old gusto, she slapped Harry on the back and he was shoved forward a bit, the air rushing out of his lungs at the force. "I own a toy shop!" she informed him cheerfully, not noticing him gasping and holding his hand to his chest. "Tauros Toys; it's on the other side of town. I live upstairs of it." Finally, she noted Harry's reddened complexion as he tugged at his shirt. "Something the matter?" she questioned.
"No," he wheezed out, running a hand through his short brown hair. "Perfectly...fine!" He flashed a thumbs-up sign at her and she smiled again, scooping her bags up on her arms and standing up. He made a face, unfolding himself to his full height. "So," he began.
"Shop's closing!" the woman yelled from behind the counter, unplugging the coffee machine. "If you want to gab, then go over there!' She jabbed a finger over the top of the counter, indicating an incredibly bright building that read "Anything Goes Café, Restaurant, and Books" over the equally bright glass door. Grumbling could be heard emanating from under the counter: "mess up my tiles...make a mess, stand there yakking away...what does this look like, a Starbucks?"
Harry grinned sheepishly and Leena snorted, rolling her eyes. "New management," she whispered to him, although it was more of a stage whisper due to his taller frame. "She's rather mean."
He coughed into his hand, grinning, and Leena motioned with her thumb out the window. "Might as well take up her suggestion, ne?"
"Right," he nodded, cheeks turning a light pink, to his inner mortification. "Um, you lead the way."
Idiot, he scolded mentally as he followed the bags-laden woman out. You're over being a shy, over-bearing romantic!
"Well, that wasn't very kind of her," Luanne muttered darkly, glaring over her shoulder at the coffee shop manager and grimacing at the rude woman. "I've decided I'm never going there again."
"I don't know," Pierre said sweetly in reply, clamping his arms about her waist and swinging her up into his arms, regardless of her coattails flying up and her booted feet smacking his abdomen. "I find you quite alluring when you are angry, my sweet." TO top it off, he flashed a gleaming, perfect smile at her, pursing his lips slightly.
Furious at her responding blush, she kicked her foot back, catching him in the ribs. "Put me down," she hissed, face unnaturally warm, "and don't look like you're going to kiss me!" With that, she kicked backwards again, and he grunted quietly, setting her down swiftly before he dropped her unflatteringly. Sweeping her hands down along her coat, she glared at the French angel for a moment, then tossed her silver hair, turning her back to him. "You have no right to treat me that way," she spoke icily.
"But love," he all but whined, tentatively placing his hands on her slim shoulders, "I was only trying to show you my aff--" The next thing Pierre knew, he was upside down, face first in a drift of snow that had been shoveled up to the curb by a plow.
"We--are--on--duty!!" she screamed, scaring the living daylights out of a nearby group of nuns, who all backed away from her. She kicked him and proceeded to continue her yelling; most of it went along the lines of how they were *supposed* to be getting Harry and Leena together, and he was trying to cop a feel off her, and she swore she would tell the Archangel, and *then* where would he be? As she ranted, throwing her arms around, a light, sketchy outline of an absurdly small, otherwise invisible pair of wings began forming in the air. Pierre, pulling himself out of the snowdrift, shook his head to rid his hair of the snowflakes, then noted that the same nuns who had been frightened of Luanne before were now etching crosses over their hearts and staring at her in awe. "And you are an idiot!" she bellowed in finality. An agreeing 'pop!' sounded behind her and she froze.
"And *you* lost your temper," remarked Pierre off-handedly as she turned bright red, her small pair of silver wings visible now. "Quite lovely, your wings."
"Shut-up!" she wailed, and they vanished in a flurry of red hearts and silver stars.
It was quite possibly the worst soup Harry had ever had in his entire life, and that included his mother's cooking. The fact remained that he prayed to God that if he eventually was going to throw it all up, it would be later, when he was alone. And, most hopefully, not in front of Leena. Still, he managed a smile after she smiled at him, she having taken a sip of it herself. O, God, he thought desperately, give me strength of stomach...
"You said you had a niece?" he prompted, focusing on one of the two things he now knew about her current living. Hell, he thought, better than none.
"Mm!" she swallowed quickly, setting her spoon on her napkin. "That's right!" She paused momentarily, taking a quick drink of her water. "You remember Naomi Flugal, right?" He nodded. "Well, apparently, Leon and she figured out that they cared for each other - a few months before I left the Blitz team. Anyway, I guess Naomi's mom found out they were living together - before they actually *got* together, if you know what I mean - and she spazzed. Somehow, she got them to attend a seminar on sinful lifestyles, which made them guilty, which, in some bizarre way I don't even want to know about, had them married in less than three months. They had the triplets about a year later - Cade, Jordan, and Roscoe." She paused again, grinning wryly. "Guess which one's the girl." Another pause. "Roscoe."
Harry chocked on his drink, and Leena threw her head back, laughing unabashedly. "Roscoe?" he blinked. "They named their daughter Roscoe?"
"That was my granddad's name," she giggled, her laughter subsiding. "Cade was my grandmother's."
"Huh," he blinked again, "go figure."
"Yeah," agreed Leena, "Naomi has the weirdest sense of humor. I haven't seen any of them in almost a year." She trailed off, staring wistfully into space. "I miss having a family around for Christmas."
"So do I," Harry concurred. At her questioning look, he added, "My family's gone this year." He grimaced. "I have to design the annual Christmas bash on my own. I don't even have servants to do it for me!" he groused, sliding down a little in his chair, arms hanging by his side.
Leena stared, then laughed, again, jabbing her spoon in his direction. "You," she said incredulously, a smile still on her face, "are upset because you don't have servants to plan your party for you?" She dropped her spoon on the table, clapping her hands together and laughing. "I don't even have workers at my store! I've run it for the past five years, on my own, every day but the holidays, and you can't plan a party? Oh, that is *rich*!" She continued laughing, her face scrunching up, dark pink locks bouncing with every shake of her body.
Harry sulked, straightening his back and scowling. "You say that like you think I'm spoiled!" he said indignantly.
"I do!" she replied cheerfully. "When *you* date a certain arrogant blonde teammate, break up with him, leave your family's Zoids team because of said break-up, start your own business, and manage to keep it going after a huge toy store opens up across the street, *then* I won't think you're spoiled!"
Sometime after she had said 'break up,' Harry's face had grown thoughtful. "Broke up?" repeated Harry, slowly, and she slowly altered moods, growing serious.
"Yes," she said quietly. "Bit and I broke up."
"I'm," he tailed off for a moment, swallowing, "sorry, Leena."
"Hey, it's okay!" she said brightly, despite a glint of pain in her eyes. "We just weren't meant for each other, I guess!"
Harry said nothing.
"What are they talking about?" Luanne hissed to Pierre, hiding behind her unfolded menu. She was still embarrassed from her display earlier. "Can't you hear them?"
"Shush," he ordered, squeezing his blue eyes shut and listening carefully. When he opened them again, it was slowly; he looked almost worried.
"What?" Luanne wanted to know. "What? What?"
"They're talking about Bit," he sighed, resting his forehead on his palm.
"Nooo!" she moaned, slouching and dropping her head onto the tabletop. "Why do they have to talk about him? They're supposed to be talking about...about..."
Pierre remarked, his voice muffled by his wrist, "Perhaps we should have thought of this before we got them to meet up at the coffee shop?" He fell silent, listening once more, then smiled. "They're talking about Leon and Naomi now."
"Leon and Naomi?" Luanne pursed her lips from where her cheek lay on the table, glancing up at Pierre. "Didn't we get them together a few years ago?"
"Shh," he motioned with one hand, his attention obviously distracted by the conversation held by their targets. "They're talking about children."
Luanne sat up like a rod, a grin forming on her face instantly. "Children, hmm?" she asked with a coy tone. "I have a plan! Let's go!" She slid out of the booth and grabbed Pierre's elbow, pulling him to his feet beside her. "We'll have to start tomorrow; we need to go see the Higher Angels about obtaining permission for a youth trick."
"You know what?" remarked Leena out of nowhere, in the lull following their conversation about childhood dreams and mistakes. "This soup is the worst I've ever had!"
Harry froze, the spoon halfway to his mouth, and grinned. "I know!" he nodded, letting his spoon plummet down into the bowl. "I didn't want to offend you if you liked it..."
"And I didn't want to seem rude," Leena continued. She grinned, too.
For a moment, Harry entertained the thought that she had chosen him - entertained the thought that she cared about him. He dismissed it quickly.
Couldn't afford another broken heart.
*
End AN: Gaw, this chapter sucks. *sighs* Well, let's see what the public thinks.
Anyway, the next chapter will be longer, so it will take a while to write and get out; apologies are due to everyone who is already pissed at me for taking an absurd length of time to get this chapter out. I found the disk, only to find chapter two wasn't on it, so I had to write the entire thing. [And I'll be keeping it by the computer from now on!]
This chapter, crap though it may be, is dedicated to Rinon Toros, who wrote an absolutely lovely Harry/Leena fanfic entitled "Sickness," which I highly recommend. It is wonderful and it helped get me off my butt to finish the last part of this chapter. So, a major call-out to Rinon Toros-san, and a thousand hugs to everyone who reviewed!
So much anti-Harry feeling all over the 'net! PallaPlease is sad...
PallaPlease.
["Stick up for the underdog." ~slogan of the "GIR Appreciation Society" (all of which is (c) to me)
"Chickens here, chickens there! Chickens, chickens, everywhere!" ~random
"My opinion is that my opinion is better than yours." ~An Internet bumpersticker I'm designing]