Midas Touch
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a little girl who sat at her computer
and decided to toss a few different anime characters from different series into a
different sort of story. This is something like that. Lyrics brought into the mix
by the ever talented and inspiring Catatonia—this time their song "Shore
Leave.")
"Have you heard the rumors, Sano?" Faye sank next to her younger brother and
pulling a toothpick from the new box on the foyer desk, she crossed her arms
and managed a favorable impression of his sour expression. They'd spent the
better part of the evening with strike, tearing down the minimal sets that had
been used for the summer shorts. Most of the cast was still occupied in the
auditorium, finding entertainment in each other's company made a little more
silly by the lateness of the hour.
"Rumors?" Sano mumbled tight-lipped even as his own toothpick bounced,
sounding as if he might have been half asleep except for the fact that he was
balanced upright against the desk.
"About the fall show?" Faye nudged him almost affectionately with her
shoulder. Eyes narrowing as he failed to respond physically or verbally. She'd
begun to sense a distance in him for most of the evening, at least after the snacks
selection had started to wear thin. "Aren't you the least bit interested?"
"Of course." Sano turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes flashing but still
evidentially weary. He shook his head at her expression, letting more of his
unruly hair dance about. "I'll be more interested in it after this hiatus is over.
We do have almost two weeks before auditions."
"Sure, sure, sure." Faye waved her hands, frustrated and consequently
dismissive. "Well don't strain yourself with the excitement, but I'd say you
might want to polish up on your dancing since a voice like yours isn't going to
win you a leading role."
"Speak for yourself," Sano said a little more loudly, "At least I can carry a tune,
Miss Tone Deaf."
"Barnyard tunes maybe," Faye bumped into him again musing, "Rooster-head,
will you ever grow out of that crazy hair." She stretched even as they could
easily hear Spike calling Julia over to check some limb or body part he'd
apparently attempted to injure. "I know you're probably planning on inviting
yourself along anyway, so if you wanted to come with Shin and me to . . ."
"Nope, not interested."
Faye started, a bit flabbergasted. It was unlike her brother not to try to nose his
way into her daily affairs, unless . . . she started to smirk. *He's never this
reluctant unless he's zeroing in on a girl. Could he finally be melting for
Misao?* Suddenly confident, Faye pulled away from the desk and started
toward the main auditorium again.
"Well, two weeks can be a short time, Sano. Shin and I'll be back before
auditions of course, make sure you do something fun in the meantime yourself."
She winked.
"Alright." Sano stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued to chew his
toothpick thoughtfully
From London to Lisbon
And all points between
Find people to lean on
And one man to please...
"I'm not very fond of this sort of pet store." Juri instinctively wrapped one arm
tighter around her body, repositioning her handful of rather well stuffed
shopping bags. Not all of them were hers, as Trowa Barton had tossed his over
in order to disobey the 'do not play with puppies' signs taped and stuck
everywhere.
"Not my favorite either," Trowa admitted, taking a moment to wipe one puppy's
healthy supply of slobber along the bottom of his old pair of jeans. "But I'm
thinking I should look into getting a pet one of these days. Something to wait
for me when I get home, I suppose."
"Puppies need more attention than . . ." Juri started.
"Yeah, Cathy says I should get a goldfish if I'm so determined to add pet aroma
to my apartment." Trowa uncurled his lean figure and glanced toward the thick
air around the aquariums. His nose curled but he took a walked to them
anyway, leaning in as if a closer look would make the inhabitant fish more
appealing. At that particular moment, one of the larger fish chose to attack the
side of the tank nearest Trowa. "Oh my, that one's vicious."
"Speaking of Catherine," Juri held out Trowa's purchases, unwilling to hold
them any longer. "Whatever happened with her and Sano?"
Trowa shrugged, balancing the bags on his wrist, letting his hands slip into his
pockets as he adopted his typical slouching gait. "I didn't hear much. I guess
Sano took Cathy out to dinner, and if I know my sister she probably humored
him only as much as it suited her. I've tried to stay out of her romantic life as a
rule, not that I could help or hurt it much."
"She's not interested in reconciling with her ex?" Juri asked, having heard
pieces of the story in their conversations at the museum.
"Not for a lack of effort on Duo's part, that's for sure." Trowa shrugged, the
bags rustling and then settling again to swing at his waist. "I'll never
understand, still . . . maybe I do understand why Duo's stopped trying. Cathy
can be pretty stubborn." He smiled a little when Juri reached out to squeeze his
shoulder.
"Sometimes we are stubborn, even when we're supposedly in love." Juri
pondered, "Especially if something deep and unexplainable in our soul guides
our actions . . . our emotions." The ringlets of Juri's hair trembled with the
unspoken truth she felt in her own thoughts. "You did say that it was probably
best for your niece . . ."
Trowa watched her awhile, wondering how much Juri was changing the subject.
He indulged in teasing her, "Damn, Juri. If only you were attracted to men . . .
then I sure wouldn't let you be single now."
Juri's grin turned playful, "Ah, Trowa, and if only you were attracted to women .
. ."
We all need someone, we all need something
We all need...
Kenshin waved one hand in front of his face, amazed at how thick the smoke
could become even though Hajime Saitou had only finished one cigarette and
started a second during their conference. Saitou's office was the one room in the
Road Rage Theater that didn't have a "no smoking" sign on the door and every
wall, not that Saitou allowed anyone else in the theater to indulge their habits in
his most personal chamber. The red-headed writer was sitting in the stiff
wooden chair opposite of the meticulously organized desk where Saitou was
stacking and re-stacking the second draft of the script for the fall production. It
seemed to Kenshin as if all the light in the room was absorbed into the glowing
tip of Saitou's cigarette as it moved toward his lips with a pulled breath.
"More comfortable with the opening scene?" Kenshin asked directly, ready to
go home and imagining the chaos that he'd have to clean once he returned there.
He and Kaoru had finally moved into a larger house, one where they could
divide their children between two separate bedrooms—which also allowed them
to have the master bedroom to themselves for once.
"It's improved." Saitou answered, taking his time before commenting. "I think
that your writing has become duller since you've taken up the family way, but
it'll do in a pinch."
Kenshin scowled, "I can't help it if a little of my happiness subconsciously slips
out now and again."
"Too true." Saitou smiled, an odd grin that Kenshin resented simply because of
the other man's reluctance to give any compliment without a barb.
"Well, I'll be off then, that I will." Kenshin adopted his characteristic speaking
patterns, while allowing a little annoyance to slip into his tone. "It'll be
interesting to see what you can do with this piece, that it will. Perhaps your
directing will not peel back it's many layers. I guess I'll have to wait and see."
Saitou refrained from commenting, but as Kenshin closed the office door behind
him, Saitou extinguished the end of his cigarette in the ashtray. The ashtray that
happened to rest in front of his wife's framed picture like an altar. He stared at
the picture for a moment, then re-stacked the script of the play again.
I'm lustless, lifeless
The scent of my skin
It means nothing without you
That's where it begins...
We all need someone
We all need something
We all need...we all need...
The phone wasn't ringing, and Sano couldn't help but wonder if he'd truly
managed to piss Misao off. The plucky young girl had more persistence than a
celebrity's fangirl as she'd tried to single-handedly revitalize his bachelor's life.
But the brush off at the pool, and the corresponding absence of interest on his
own part must have painted the picture for her.
And as a result, he found very few reasons to pull him from bed that morning.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself a week ago under the
sheets in another room, holding the woman he'd always dreamed about. Almost
remember the way his fingers slid through her hair until they were tangled in her
red-brown curls. And how small, how small her shoulders were and . . .
Sano's eyes opened. He couldn't remember without realizing exactly how small
she had been while next to him, even though the very next morning, the last
moments in which he saw her, she had seemed so angry and stubborn. It wasn't
right that she felt some need to grow two feet beyond herself in order to face the
daylight. And two feet beyond him. She had left him behind.
And no matter how many times he did rise from his own bed, whenever he had
the urge to look out his window and across the pool, her small car was not
sitting where he'd found it before.
*Damn it* Sano sat up scowling. He hated waking up angry, alone and angry.
Angry at Catherine that he was alone, and that she was alone, and that he had
wanted to do something about that. That evening he had felt as if he knew her
better than anyone else, her pain was something that he could comfort. If she
would let him.
"Don't carry too much if you can't."
"I can."
The phone rang.
"Hello." Sanosuke answered, half believing that through all of his
contemplations Catherine might call.
"Hey, what are you doing home? I thought you'd be out with Misao. Just
wanted to let you know that Shin and I made it alright and all."
Catherine didn't have his phone number.
"I was sleeping. Thanks."
"Riiiiight." Faye's voice was distant but still obnoxiously exuberant, she was
obviously quite happy. "Yeah, you go right back to sleep, rooster head."
"Sleeping." Sano repeated, even though Faye had disconnected the line, most
likely more interested in whatever or whoever was on her end of the world.
Stretching, letting himself rumble deep in his chest, Sano went from the bed
directly to the window. Not that there was anything for him to see. He pulled
the blinds open completely, letting the afternoon sun sparkle on the patterns of
dust between himself and the pane of glass.
There had to be something more interesting out there, he thought to himself.
Catherine was out there, somewhere.
Get out, for your sakes
Do you want it?
No promises are spoken
Take it or leave it, do you like it?
And no man's heart gets broken...
"If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be?"
"I hate that question."
"So do I."
Juri leaned back against her side of the booth and let her eyes wonder around to
the faces of the other individuals seeking ice cream parlor enjoyments. She
wondered if she'd ever seen any of them before, on the street, in the theater, even
in that same parlor in the past. Would she remember? "I think," she began, her
tone playful, but brimming with honesty, "truthfully, I wish I could remember
who Shiori was in high school. I can't, you see. She remembers me, apparently,
and Ruka, certainly. And I think Ruka remembered her."
"You don't remember her at all?" Trowa's eyes never left her face, curiously
appraising her. "When I came to the Road Rage it seemed that you two had
quite a history."
"No," Juri answered, tasting her dessert again before continuing, "but I've found
her quite alluring because she's so ordinary and beautifully forgettable. And I
don't want to be forgetful. As long as I remember her then I'm a better person, I
guess that's the crazy logic behind it all."
"You think to much."
"You're one to comment on that personality flaw," Juri smirked, earning another
smile from the quiet actor. She was getting used to how much he could look
like Ruka when he bent his head forward or when she managed to amuse him
until his eyes sparkled. "I've never asked why you left the Glass House,
although, I'd imagine it wasn't for the same reason as our newest
troublemakers."
"Are you asking now?" Trowa said, letting a flavor of coyness temper his tone.
"Well, once Une retired and Chang was hired in as the new director nearly half
of the cast left, including Dorothy and Nichol who were at odds with the new
man as soon as they first spoke to each other." Trowa folded his arms across his
chest, "I had no reason to stay, no reason to leave—but my home had changed
beyond repair. Nothing would be the same after the Lady left, and I wasn't
certain if I was ready to rebuild. It's easier to leave than to be left. However,
Saitou hunted me down as soon as he heard I was free. And I couldn't turn
down the offer."
"Easier to leave than to be left . . ." Juri raised her eyebrows, "Didn't know that
you'd take such a position, Trowa. I thought you'd be the sort to see things
through."
"I was," Trowa's arms held himself more tightly, "but that position is a lesson
that I'm just learning, Juri. Since it happens *to* me, more often than not . . ."
"Love's a funny thing." Juri said plainly.
"Who said I was talking about love?"
They sat in sick vulnerability, until they were staring at melted ice cream soup.
Trowa spoke after the moment had passed, "Was I supposed to comfort you
first?"
Juri chuckled, lightly relieved.
One day to another
I'm head over heels
One room to another
It sets the same scene...
We all need someone
We all need something
We all need...we all need...
"Don't even tell me you're ordering the same thing, again, tonight—the same
thing that you ordered for lunch?" Faye caught Shin's arm even as he opened his
mouth to reply to the waiter's request. When Shin failed to refute her comment,
the limber girl mock-swooned across the back of her chair. "Sweetie, we're
going to be here for a week, you can at least try a few new and different things,
no?"
Shin shared a glance with the waiter, who seemed sympathetic. "Does the chef
mind if I have the fish again?"
"No, sir, not at all."
Faye rattled her request to the waiter who only snapped his pencil lead once
she'd finished, and at that point she leaned into her companion's space, her head
propped up in the palm of her hand. "I suppose I shouldn't complain since
you're so loyal and all . . . I do love you for it."
Shin relaxed, mostly since the waiter had left. Something about Faye's attempt
at an alluring smile melted his frustration at her domineering personality. It was
the Sagara determination that had introduced them in the first place, for which
he was increasingly grateful.
It was half a minute later that he snapped himself away from that line of
thinking and realized that Faye had changed subjects to rattle on about the
relatively distasteful styles of every other individual in the room. She was loud
enough that she was certainly being overheard. Shin sighed, grimacing his
unspoken apologies—not that they were likely to be recognized or
acknowledged as such.
"Oh dear," Faye exclaimed, fanning at him with her napkin, "You aren't
choking are you, what a horrid expression."
"I'm fine," Shin smiled weakly, "You never did explain, Faye, and I still find it
very strange that your brother didn't try to tag along with this vacation during
your break from working. You did ask, right? He's not going to suddenly pop
up . . . " Shin glanced around, teasing.
"I asked," Faye began to tear small pieces from the bread set in front of her,
"But I think he's so wrapped up with Misao, he had other things planned." Faye
tilted her head, "Or rather, I'm sure Misao had things planned for Sanosuke."
Shin hesitated, "Misao?"
"Yup," Faye nodded, "Remember the little gal who came with us to . . ."
"I do," Shin interrupted, "Sano said he was staying with Misao? I don't see how
that's quite likely . . ."
"It certainly seemed that way, and he was sleeping in way way too late this
morning for even his normal sleeping patterns." Faye chewed, "Why?" She
waited while Shin took his time responding, her quick paced enthusiasm slowed
by the attractive way his hair parted and his nose tilted. Even his fingers, as they
gripped the edge of the table with new pressure.
"I'm confused," Shin admitted at last, "because Misao is dating someone else."
Faye blinked, "Are you sure?" She asked with unexplainable calmness.
Every man for himself
Just for a little while
Every man for himself
Just for a short while...
From his place on the catwalk, Mikage Souji could still see the brief glow of red
from where the director had seated himself in approximately the third row away
from the stage.
Mikage had found the initial design for the necessary lighting balanced on the
control panel of the observation room. After the initial interest of perusing the
written words and gaining clear pictures in his mind of the final produce, he had
gone to sit on the catwalk and imaginatively place each wire in his brain while
examining the room's dimensions and difficulties.
It was from that point that he saw the infrequent sparks from the darkened
auditorium.
Apparently, others worked well in the quietness of solitude and shadows. Not
that Mikage was particularly surprised; most artists found comfort in that silent
space now and again.
You could come around
We could fool around
And get down
Head over heals
It's the way it could be...
Take it or leave it
Just come as you please
"It's raining."
"I noticed." She held the door open reassuring herself that she wasn't surprised.
"It's actually, still, raining on me." Sanosuke's hands were empty, although even
as he drove the short distance he couldn't imagine what he could have brought to
her. Unless he went to see what it was that she needed.
"How did you find this place?"
Sano grinned, devilishly charmed by her uncertainty. Especially since it wasn't
openly hostile. "I have my ways of finding out these things . . . not that I can
stop it from being very wet . . ."
"Come in, I guess." Catherine pulled back.
Sano stepped past her, very aware of her body as he slipped by—feeling the
extra distance and all the other armor she'd built around herself. He took in a
quick glance of the small place, "Why the heck are you living here? You could
have stayed at your old place until your deal went through, right?"
"I was moving so that I wouldn't be troubled by unwelcome visitors." She
crossed her arms in a way that reminded Sano of one of the Road Rage actors, a
defensive stance. A closing off.
"You can't mean me." Sano protested, "You didn't even know me then."
"No, I didn't mean you." Catherine agreed, "Not that you changed anything
either."
Sano frowned, but passed over the cutting remark to ask, "Who do you mean?
Trowa?"
"No." Catherine laughed immediately, her fingers loosening from around her
arms. "No, not Trowa. I didn't want my husb-my ex-husband, rather, to find
me."
"You seem to go out of your way to be hard to find, Miss Bloom." Sano said,
pointedly. He was still standing, realizing how much taller he was in her small,
temporary home. "You could have simply moved in with me . . ." He added
lightly, flirting, testing.
She laughed again, almost encouraging until she said, "Oh, Sano, you're so
refreshingly young."
"That's not troubling you, is it?" Sano said, more than a tad cross in his reaction,
"It didn't seem to bother you before."
"No." Catherine said, then taking a long pause as if reconsidering her answer.
"I don't know. You are young, so . . . beautifully young."
"Dammit," Sano growled, his features turning dark, "You've got a strange way
of seeing what you want to see, Catherine."
"It's called coping." Catherine's voice lowering in turn. She still had her hand
on the doorknob, neither had moved for some time.
"The way I see it," Sano fixed her with his stare, "You're doing a lot of running
and not much coping at all. How can you cope with what you've ignored all
together? And I'm not just talking about Helen . . . or that messed up ex-
husband, whoever he is. It's me too. I don't just . . . "
"You have no idea what you're talking about." Catherine said with an odd
detachment. Her fingers only lightly touching the door at that point.
"Like hell I don't," With great effort, Sano broke the statue like stillness that
held him apart from her. As if folding over her with a tight embrace might pull
her back to the moments that they'd shared together. The smell of her hair
hauntingly familiar.
"Sano, how did you get so soaked?" Catherine's fingers trapped between her
face and his chest. Increasingly pushing herself back and away.
"Fine, you turn all maternal since I'm a bit wet, but you don't care one bit about
the strong emotions of those who love you." Sano said quietly.
When he dared look down, Catherine's expression was beyond his
understanding. Wonder, somewhat mingled with the fear of discovery. She said
quiet simply, "But that's always been the problem, you see. I've always cared
too deeply for the one I can never love."
"Hell, you've got me now, girl."
We all need...
Someone, somehow
Somewhere...
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a little girl who sat at her computer
and decided to toss a few different anime characters from different series into a
different sort of story. This is something like that. Lyrics brought into the mix
by the ever talented and inspiring Catatonia—this time their song "Shore
Leave.")
"Have you heard the rumors, Sano?" Faye sank next to her younger brother and
pulling a toothpick from the new box on the foyer desk, she crossed her arms
and managed a favorable impression of his sour expression. They'd spent the
better part of the evening with strike, tearing down the minimal sets that had
been used for the summer shorts. Most of the cast was still occupied in the
auditorium, finding entertainment in each other's company made a little more
silly by the lateness of the hour.
"Rumors?" Sano mumbled tight-lipped even as his own toothpick bounced,
sounding as if he might have been half asleep except for the fact that he was
balanced upright against the desk.
"About the fall show?" Faye nudged him almost affectionately with her
shoulder. Eyes narrowing as he failed to respond physically or verbally. She'd
begun to sense a distance in him for most of the evening, at least after the snacks
selection had started to wear thin. "Aren't you the least bit interested?"
"Of course." Sano turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes flashing but still
evidentially weary. He shook his head at her expression, letting more of his
unruly hair dance about. "I'll be more interested in it after this hiatus is over.
We do have almost two weeks before auditions."
"Sure, sure, sure." Faye waved her hands, frustrated and consequently
dismissive. "Well don't strain yourself with the excitement, but I'd say you
might want to polish up on your dancing since a voice like yours isn't going to
win you a leading role."
"Speak for yourself," Sano said a little more loudly, "At least I can carry a tune,
Miss Tone Deaf."
"Barnyard tunes maybe," Faye bumped into him again musing, "Rooster-head,
will you ever grow out of that crazy hair." She stretched even as they could
easily hear Spike calling Julia over to check some limb or body part he'd
apparently attempted to injure. "I know you're probably planning on inviting
yourself along anyway, so if you wanted to come with Shin and me to . . ."
"Nope, not interested."
Faye started, a bit flabbergasted. It was unlike her brother not to try to nose his
way into her daily affairs, unless . . . she started to smirk. *He's never this
reluctant unless he's zeroing in on a girl. Could he finally be melting for
Misao?* Suddenly confident, Faye pulled away from the desk and started
toward the main auditorium again.
"Well, two weeks can be a short time, Sano. Shin and I'll be back before
auditions of course, make sure you do something fun in the meantime yourself."
She winked.
"Alright." Sano stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued to chew his
toothpick thoughtfully
From London to Lisbon
And all points between
Find people to lean on
And one man to please...
"I'm not very fond of this sort of pet store." Juri instinctively wrapped one arm
tighter around her body, repositioning her handful of rather well stuffed
shopping bags. Not all of them were hers, as Trowa Barton had tossed his over
in order to disobey the 'do not play with puppies' signs taped and stuck
everywhere.
"Not my favorite either," Trowa admitted, taking a moment to wipe one puppy's
healthy supply of slobber along the bottom of his old pair of jeans. "But I'm
thinking I should look into getting a pet one of these days. Something to wait
for me when I get home, I suppose."
"Puppies need more attention than . . ." Juri started.
"Yeah, Cathy says I should get a goldfish if I'm so determined to add pet aroma
to my apartment." Trowa uncurled his lean figure and glanced toward the thick
air around the aquariums. His nose curled but he took a walked to them
anyway, leaning in as if a closer look would make the inhabitant fish more
appealing. At that particular moment, one of the larger fish chose to attack the
side of the tank nearest Trowa. "Oh my, that one's vicious."
"Speaking of Catherine," Juri held out Trowa's purchases, unwilling to hold
them any longer. "Whatever happened with her and Sano?"
Trowa shrugged, balancing the bags on his wrist, letting his hands slip into his
pockets as he adopted his typical slouching gait. "I didn't hear much. I guess
Sano took Cathy out to dinner, and if I know my sister she probably humored
him only as much as it suited her. I've tried to stay out of her romantic life as a
rule, not that I could help or hurt it much."
"She's not interested in reconciling with her ex?" Juri asked, having heard
pieces of the story in their conversations at the museum.
"Not for a lack of effort on Duo's part, that's for sure." Trowa shrugged, the
bags rustling and then settling again to swing at his waist. "I'll never
understand, still . . . maybe I do understand why Duo's stopped trying. Cathy
can be pretty stubborn." He smiled a little when Juri reached out to squeeze his
shoulder.
"Sometimes we are stubborn, even when we're supposedly in love." Juri
pondered, "Especially if something deep and unexplainable in our soul guides
our actions . . . our emotions." The ringlets of Juri's hair trembled with the
unspoken truth she felt in her own thoughts. "You did say that it was probably
best for your niece . . ."
Trowa watched her awhile, wondering how much Juri was changing the subject.
He indulged in teasing her, "Damn, Juri. If only you were attracted to men . . .
then I sure wouldn't let you be single now."
Juri's grin turned playful, "Ah, Trowa, and if only you were attracted to women .
. ."
We all need someone, we all need something
We all need...
Kenshin waved one hand in front of his face, amazed at how thick the smoke
could become even though Hajime Saitou had only finished one cigarette and
started a second during their conference. Saitou's office was the one room in the
Road Rage Theater that didn't have a "no smoking" sign on the door and every
wall, not that Saitou allowed anyone else in the theater to indulge their habits in
his most personal chamber. The red-headed writer was sitting in the stiff
wooden chair opposite of the meticulously organized desk where Saitou was
stacking and re-stacking the second draft of the script for the fall production. It
seemed to Kenshin as if all the light in the room was absorbed into the glowing
tip of Saitou's cigarette as it moved toward his lips with a pulled breath.
"More comfortable with the opening scene?" Kenshin asked directly, ready to
go home and imagining the chaos that he'd have to clean once he returned there.
He and Kaoru had finally moved into a larger house, one where they could
divide their children between two separate bedrooms—which also allowed them
to have the master bedroom to themselves for once.
"It's improved." Saitou answered, taking his time before commenting. "I think
that your writing has become duller since you've taken up the family way, but
it'll do in a pinch."
Kenshin scowled, "I can't help it if a little of my happiness subconsciously slips
out now and again."
"Too true." Saitou smiled, an odd grin that Kenshin resented simply because of
the other man's reluctance to give any compliment without a barb.
"Well, I'll be off then, that I will." Kenshin adopted his characteristic speaking
patterns, while allowing a little annoyance to slip into his tone. "It'll be
interesting to see what you can do with this piece, that it will. Perhaps your
directing will not peel back it's many layers. I guess I'll have to wait and see."
Saitou refrained from commenting, but as Kenshin closed the office door behind
him, Saitou extinguished the end of his cigarette in the ashtray. The ashtray that
happened to rest in front of his wife's framed picture like an altar. He stared at
the picture for a moment, then re-stacked the script of the play again.
I'm lustless, lifeless
The scent of my skin
It means nothing without you
That's where it begins...
We all need someone
We all need something
We all need...we all need...
The phone wasn't ringing, and Sano couldn't help but wonder if he'd truly
managed to piss Misao off. The plucky young girl had more persistence than a
celebrity's fangirl as she'd tried to single-handedly revitalize his bachelor's life.
But the brush off at the pool, and the corresponding absence of interest on his
own part must have painted the picture for her.
And as a result, he found very few reasons to pull him from bed that morning.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself a week ago under the
sheets in another room, holding the woman he'd always dreamed about. Almost
remember the way his fingers slid through her hair until they were tangled in her
red-brown curls. And how small, how small her shoulders were and . . .
Sano's eyes opened. He couldn't remember without realizing exactly how small
she had been while next to him, even though the very next morning, the last
moments in which he saw her, she had seemed so angry and stubborn. It wasn't
right that she felt some need to grow two feet beyond herself in order to face the
daylight. And two feet beyond him. She had left him behind.
And no matter how many times he did rise from his own bed, whenever he had
the urge to look out his window and across the pool, her small car was not
sitting where he'd found it before.
*Damn it* Sano sat up scowling. He hated waking up angry, alone and angry.
Angry at Catherine that he was alone, and that she was alone, and that he had
wanted to do something about that. That evening he had felt as if he knew her
better than anyone else, her pain was something that he could comfort. If she
would let him.
"Don't carry too much if you can't."
"I can."
The phone rang.
"Hello." Sanosuke answered, half believing that through all of his
contemplations Catherine might call.
"Hey, what are you doing home? I thought you'd be out with Misao. Just
wanted to let you know that Shin and I made it alright and all."
Catherine didn't have his phone number.
"I was sleeping. Thanks."
"Riiiiight." Faye's voice was distant but still obnoxiously exuberant, she was
obviously quite happy. "Yeah, you go right back to sleep, rooster head."
"Sleeping." Sano repeated, even though Faye had disconnected the line, most
likely more interested in whatever or whoever was on her end of the world.
Stretching, letting himself rumble deep in his chest, Sano went from the bed
directly to the window. Not that there was anything for him to see. He pulled
the blinds open completely, letting the afternoon sun sparkle on the patterns of
dust between himself and the pane of glass.
There had to be something more interesting out there, he thought to himself.
Catherine was out there, somewhere.
Get out, for your sakes
Do you want it?
No promises are spoken
Take it or leave it, do you like it?
And no man's heart gets broken...
"If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be?"
"I hate that question."
"So do I."
Juri leaned back against her side of the booth and let her eyes wonder around to
the faces of the other individuals seeking ice cream parlor enjoyments. She
wondered if she'd ever seen any of them before, on the street, in the theater, even
in that same parlor in the past. Would she remember? "I think," she began, her
tone playful, but brimming with honesty, "truthfully, I wish I could remember
who Shiori was in high school. I can't, you see. She remembers me, apparently,
and Ruka, certainly. And I think Ruka remembered her."
"You don't remember her at all?" Trowa's eyes never left her face, curiously
appraising her. "When I came to the Road Rage it seemed that you two had
quite a history."
"No," Juri answered, tasting her dessert again before continuing, "but I've found
her quite alluring because she's so ordinary and beautifully forgettable. And I
don't want to be forgetful. As long as I remember her then I'm a better person, I
guess that's the crazy logic behind it all."
"You think to much."
"You're one to comment on that personality flaw," Juri smirked, earning another
smile from the quiet actor. She was getting used to how much he could look
like Ruka when he bent his head forward or when she managed to amuse him
until his eyes sparkled. "I've never asked why you left the Glass House,
although, I'd imagine it wasn't for the same reason as our newest
troublemakers."
"Are you asking now?" Trowa said, letting a flavor of coyness temper his tone.
"Well, once Une retired and Chang was hired in as the new director nearly half
of the cast left, including Dorothy and Nichol who were at odds with the new
man as soon as they first spoke to each other." Trowa folded his arms across his
chest, "I had no reason to stay, no reason to leave—but my home had changed
beyond repair. Nothing would be the same after the Lady left, and I wasn't
certain if I was ready to rebuild. It's easier to leave than to be left. However,
Saitou hunted me down as soon as he heard I was free. And I couldn't turn
down the offer."
"Easier to leave than to be left . . ." Juri raised her eyebrows, "Didn't know that
you'd take such a position, Trowa. I thought you'd be the sort to see things
through."
"I was," Trowa's arms held himself more tightly, "but that position is a lesson
that I'm just learning, Juri. Since it happens *to* me, more often than not . . ."
"Love's a funny thing." Juri said plainly.
"Who said I was talking about love?"
They sat in sick vulnerability, until they were staring at melted ice cream soup.
Trowa spoke after the moment had passed, "Was I supposed to comfort you
first?"
Juri chuckled, lightly relieved.
One day to another
I'm head over heels
One room to another
It sets the same scene...
We all need someone
We all need something
We all need...we all need...
"Don't even tell me you're ordering the same thing, again, tonight—the same
thing that you ordered for lunch?" Faye caught Shin's arm even as he opened his
mouth to reply to the waiter's request. When Shin failed to refute her comment,
the limber girl mock-swooned across the back of her chair. "Sweetie, we're
going to be here for a week, you can at least try a few new and different things,
no?"
Shin shared a glance with the waiter, who seemed sympathetic. "Does the chef
mind if I have the fish again?"
"No, sir, not at all."
Faye rattled her request to the waiter who only snapped his pencil lead once
she'd finished, and at that point she leaned into her companion's space, her head
propped up in the palm of her hand. "I suppose I shouldn't complain since
you're so loyal and all . . . I do love you for it."
Shin relaxed, mostly since the waiter had left. Something about Faye's attempt
at an alluring smile melted his frustration at her domineering personality. It was
the Sagara determination that had introduced them in the first place, for which
he was increasingly grateful.
It was half a minute later that he snapped himself away from that line of
thinking and realized that Faye had changed subjects to rattle on about the
relatively distasteful styles of every other individual in the room. She was loud
enough that she was certainly being overheard. Shin sighed, grimacing his
unspoken apologies—not that they were likely to be recognized or
acknowledged as such.
"Oh dear," Faye exclaimed, fanning at him with her napkin, "You aren't
choking are you, what a horrid expression."
"I'm fine," Shin smiled weakly, "You never did explain, Faye, and I still find it
very strange that your brother didn't try to tag along with this vacation during
your break from working. You did ask, right? He's not going to suddenly pop
up . . . " Shin glanced around, teasing.
"I asked," Faye began to tear small pieces from the bread set in front of her,
"But I think he's so wrapped up with Misao, he had other things planned." Faye
tilted her head, "Or rather, I'm sure Misao had things planned for Sanosuke."
Shin hesitated, "Misao?"
"Yup," Faye nodded, "Remember the little gal who came with us to . . ."
"I do," Shin interrupted, "Sano said he was staying with Misao? I don't see how
that's quite likely . . ."
"It certainly seemed that way, and he was sleeping in way way too late this
morning for even his normal sleeping patterns." Faye chewed, "Why?" She
waited while Shin took his time responding, her quick paced enthusiasm slowed
by the attractive way his hair parted and his nose tilted. Even his fingers, as they
gripped the edge of the table with new pressure.
"I'm confused," Shin admitted at last, "because Misao is dating someone else."
Faye blinked, "Are you sure?" She asked with unexplainable calmness.
Every man for himself
Just for a little while
Every man for himself
Just for a short while...
From his place on the catwalk, Mikage Souji could still see the brief glow of red
from where the director had seated himself in approximately the third row away
from the stage.
Mikage had found the initial design for the necessary lighting balanced on the
control panel of the observation room. After the initial interest of perusing the
written words and gaining clear pictures in his mind of the final produce, he had
gone to sit on the catwalk and imaginatively place each wire in his brain while
examining the room's dimensions and difficulties.
It was from that point that he saw the infrequent sparks from the darkened
auditorium.
Apparently, others worked well in the quietness of solitude and shadows. Not
that Mikage was particularly surprised; most artists found comfort in that silent
space now and again.
You could come around
We could fool around
And get down
Head over heals
It's the way it could be...
Take it or leave it
Just come as you please
"It's raining."
"I noticed." She held the door open reassuring herself that she wasn't surprised.
"It's actually, still, raining on me." Sanosuke's hands were empty, although even
as he drove the short distance he couldn't imagine what he could have brought to
her. Unless he went to see what it was that she needed.
"How did you find this place?"
Sano grinned, devilishly charmed by her uncertainty. Especially since it wasn't
openly hostile. "I have my ways of finding out these things . . . not that I can
stop it from being very wet . . ."
"Come in, I guess." Catherine pulled back.
Sano stepped past her, very aware of her body as he slipped by—feeling the
extra distance and all the other armor she'd built around herself. He took in a
quick glance of the small place, "Why the heck are you living here? You could
have stayed at your old place until your deal went through, right?"
"I was moving so that I wouldn't be troubled by unwelcome visitors." She
crossed her arms in a way that reminded Sano of one of the Road Rage actors, a
defensive stance. A closing off.
"You can't mean me." Sano protested, "You didn't even know me then."
"No, I didn't mean you." Catherine agreed, "Not that you changed anything
either."
Sano frowned, but passed over the cutting remark to ask, "Who do you mean?
Trowa?"
"No." Catherine laughed immediately, her fingers loosening from around her
arms. "No, not Trowa. I didn't want my husb-my ex-husband, rather, to find
me."
"You seem to go out of your way to be hard to find, Miss Bloom." Sano said,
pointedly. He was still standing, realizing how much taller he was in her small,
temporary home. "You could have simply moved in with me . . ." He added
lightly, flirting, testing.
She laughed again, almost encouraging until she said, "Oh, Sano, you're so
refreshingly young."
"That's not troubling you, is it?" Sano said, more than a tad cross in his reaction,
"It didn't seem to bother you before."
"No." Catherine said, then taking a long pause as if reconsidering her answer.
"I don't know. You are young, so . . . beautifully young."
"Dammit," Sano growled, his features turning dark, "You've got a strange way
of seeing what you want to see, Catherine."
"It's called coping." Catherine's voice lowering in turn. She still had her hand
on the doorknob, neither had moved for some time.
"The way I see it," Sano fixed her with his stare, "You're doing a lot of running
and not much coping at all. How can you cope with what you've ignored all
together? And I'm not just talking about Helen . . . or that messed up ex-
husband, whoever he is. It's me too. I don't just . . . "
"You have no idea what you're talking about." Catherine said with an odd
detachment. Her fingers only lightly touching the door at that point.
"Like hell I don't," With great effort, Sano broke the statue like stillness that
held him apart from her. As if folding over her with a tight embrace might pull
her back to the moments that they'd shared together. The smell of her hair
hauntingly familiar.
"Sano, how did you get so soaked?" Catherine's fingers trapped between her
face and his chest. Increasingly pushing herself back and away.
"Fine, you turn all maternal since I'm a bit wet, but you don't care one bit about
the strong emotions of those who love you." Sano said quietly.
When he dared look down, Catherine's expression was beyond his
understanding. Wonder, somewhat mingled with the fear of discovery. She said
quiet simply, "But that's always been the problem, you see. I've always cared
too deeply for the one I can never love."
"Hell, you've got me now, girl."
We all need...
Someone, somehow
Somewhere...