Broken
Chapter Six
By Karisma
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Alt, Romance
Standard Disclaimers Apply
October 2001
AN: Hello, all! Okay, first off. As I begin my senior
year, AP classes are taking their toll on me. I request that you PLEASE do not
email me to flame me about updating. I"m trying, you guys really. About AOYU
sequel, it's coming along. remember, it's one BIG parter so it will take some
time.
For the first time in a long time, Darien was confused.
About a woman, no less! He had no idea where he stood with Serena. The ending
to their date was less than normal, ending with not even a chaste kiss
goodnight. Not that he hadn't wanted to, eradicating the chaste, of course.
Did the sour conclusion mean there would be no future
dates, or was it still possible for them?
Hell, Darien thought, running a hand through his dark
hair. She was confusing even when she wasn't there!
He leaned back in his chair, his hands an image of a
steeple. He watching the door unwaveringly, waiting for the object of his
frustration to bring her pretty self in.
Darien didn't have to wait long, Serena soon came
through the double
doors, a quirky grin lighting up her features. "You know,"
she started, her
grin impenetrable. "I think that secretary of yours is
actually starting to
like me. Ever since I brought her coffee and doughnuts,
she—"
"You're late," he interjected, her voice flatter and sourer
than he wanted it to be.
She frowned, her beam gone. "By four minutes," she
qualified.
"Four minutes too late."
She planted her hands on her slim hips, pushing the
sides of her black
jacket back. "Listen, O Great Sovereign, how about we
coordinate our watches so this colossal faux pas never ensues again?"
Darien sighed at her unveiled sarcasm and rubbed the
bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "I'm sorry, Serena." He
sighed. "About now and last night."
Her expression softened and she came up to the desk,
standing a good few feet away from him. "I had a good time last night. Minus
the inquisition." She smiled, softening her words. "But I'm in dire need of friends
right now rather than the confusion a relationship, short-lived as it might be,
would cause." She bit her lip, shocked by her own boldness.
"I'd like that," Darien said, nodding, a smile quirking the
corners of his firm mouth.
"Good." She inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Happy she
was finally grasping control on things, she smiled. Stepping over to her
laptop, she confirmed the decision she had made in her mind. Darien would make
a great friend. She had never laughed so much as she did when she was with
Darien, she had never kissed so much when she was with him either, but if she
had to be honest, hand over heart, she would admit she enjoyed that part as
well.
She blushed at the thought and recollection and decided matter-of-factly
that this was much more appealing. Friendship would keep in her in Darien's
good company without the awkwardness of a relationship. A relationship would
grow to be intimate, and she might even be compelled to tell him about the
attack, and that she couldn't bring herself to do. Not now, not ever.
After she had finished and sent the article to her editor,
Serena leaned back against the plush sofa and addressed her boss, "So how's
Rina faring?"
"Addicted to DDR and forcing me to play as well," he
stated, a wry grin playing on his lips.
"Well, I'm sure there is a long line of people who would
be willing to pay to see that sight."
"Yourself included?"
"Myself included."
"Perhaps I can arrange that."
"And your price would be?"
"One kiss."
Serena's body jolted at the change their conversation
had assumed.
Switching from light repartee to provocative coyness was not
her cup of tea, and she was silent, all replies leaving her for the moment.
"Well, I—I think I'll pass on the live show," she finally
offered weakly, diverting her head from his gaze.
She sensed him get up from his chair and move up in front
of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. "Is the price all together too
high?" He mocked.
"Too rich for my blood," she agreed, staring at his mini
bar in rapt fascination. She was so fixated on the rainbows the glasses of the
bar refracted, she was startled when she felt Darien's shadow overcame her.
When he picked up her hands and gently lifted her up, she mutely followed, too dumbstruck
to pull away. Hadn't he just given his consent for them to be friends? What was
he pulling?
When Darien's mouth covered her own, Serena gathered
every ounce of
willpower within her and remained stiff in his arms. She
pulled away a
fraction of a centimeter, their mouths still touching. "I
can't—"
"Shut up, Serena," he whispered firmly against her lips.
"Open your mouth."
"Darien—"
"Thanks."
And then all thoughts, all conversation ceased as she gave
into the kiss with a murmur that was a surrender unto itself. When human
necessity called for them to break apart, Serena swallowed harshly and covered
her reddened mouth with a trembling hand. Her pink tongue darted out to moisten
the parched lips and she discovered with a jolt something quite surprising.
"We agreed to be just friends," she accused, turning her
back to him and wandering around aimlessly, wringing her hands.
"I've never French kissed 'just a friend'," his wry voice
reached her, dripping with mockery and faint humor.
His light tone in their situation in comparison to the
nervous breakdown she was having, snapped the fragile thread that held her
above a chasm. She snatched up her coat and purse, anger apparent in each of
her lithe movements.
"Where are you going?" Darien said warily, watching her
head toward the double doors.
"Out."
"That's not an answer."
"So you can't be my friend, but you can be mother?"
She snapped and
slammed the door behind her.
Darien let out an aggravated curse and ran a frustrated hand
through his hair. He paced angrily for a few moments, before grabbing his own
coat and tracing the steps she had taken minutes before.
She was stomping along the sidewalk, her bouncing against
her hip with every angry step she took. He couldn't help but admire the sway of
her slim hips as she rampaged down the concrete. He blew out his breath and
jogged, catching up to her quick paces with ease.
"What the hell are you playing at?" His irritation at her
abrupt departure was not hidden as he gripped her arm and turned to face him,
his voice biting.
She gasped and Darien saw her initial expression. One of
utter terror and dread. But soon enough, she realized that it was him and her
face froze into a look of glacial contempt. She yanked her arm away from his
demanding grasp and continued walking as if he wasn't there.
He stared in the spot she had just vacated before running
to match her long strides. Never in a month of Sundays had a woman treat him as
she just had. When he was soon matching her steps with a casual ease, she gave
up and whirled around to face him.
"Go away," she enunciated very clearly through tightly
clenched teeth.
"No," he emulated her tone and his mood cleared
immediately when
amusement at her vexation hit him.
"You," she seethed, her fists tight near her side, "are the
most infuriating, impossible man I have ever met!"
He took the insults with a shrug and a smile. "I've
been called worse."
"I'll bet," she snapped savagely, "No doubt from your
own mother!"
Darien raised one sardonic eyebrow down at her. "Now
that," he stated,
"was not a very nice thing to say."
"I know, that is why I said it."
"If you smile and apologize, I'm willing to overlook
it."
She gave a rather unladylike snort. "Now are you
really? How very
magnanimous of you."
"Isn't it?" He mocked, observing her growing temper
with enjoyment.
"Go to hell," she snapped, turning to continue her
walk down the busy
sidewalk.
"I'm sure I'll get there soon enough," he agreed. "But for
now I'd like to go just about anywhere with you."
"Why won't you leave me alone?"
"Because," he answered somberly, "For some reason I
can't get enough of
your razor tongue, short temper, and delightful disposition.
Not to mention the way you melt whenever I hold you."
"I do not melt," she said crossly.
"Sure," his tone was scathing, belying the conceding
words with its
cutting swiftness.
"Oh, just leave me alone!" Her voice was now desperate as
she threw her arms in the air, a gesture that contradicted the cultured
tailoring of her neat suit.
"Fine," he shrugged and stopped walking. She was a bit
startled and perversely peeved that he had given up so easily when his voice
called out to her. "Oh, and eight o'clock."
"Eight?" She blinked, caught off guard by the random
order.
"I'll pick you up at eight. We'll go to the theatre."
"Darien," she started, but was truncated.
"As friends, I promise." He dramatically planted his
hand over the soft
cotton fabric of his shirt where his heart was.
She glanced at him, suspicious. "You won't…try
anything?"
"Not if you don't want me to."
"I don't."
"Liar."
She sent him a scornful glare before shaking her head
and preparing to
walk off.
"There'll be a car outside the building tomorrow
waiting for us."
"There is no 'us'," she reminded him, slowly stepping
away from him.
"Not yet."
"Not ever," she tossed over her shoulder.
"We'll see," Darien returned.
She stopped and swung only her head back to face him,
her hand securing
her purse strap. "How long you can hold your breath, Mr.
McDermott?"
Darien waited until he saw
Serena blend it with the rest of the crowd before giving a reply. "A long, long
time, Miss Corday."
Serena got home and realized after a moment that she had
smiled all the way back to her apartment. Convincing herself that it had
nothing whatsoever to do with Darien, she shrugged out of her jacket and into
her room. Hanging up the jacket, she caught sight of her happy face in the
mirror. After telling herself to stop grinning like madman because she looked
like an utter buffoon, she settled to the task of making dinner.
On the way to the kitchen, she caught sight of her mail.
One large envelope in particular caught her eye. She reached for it, her
curiosity piqued. The realization of the contents wiped the grin off her face
for a long time to come.
It was the package of pictures she had sent to every
official who would listen. And now, two years later, they had finally gotten
around to sending them back. It wasn't even opened.
She closed her eyes tightly and wanted nothing more than
to burn the photos that were permanently etched in her brain. Photos of the
bruises on her face, thighs, arms, stomach.
Opening her blue eyes with such utter determination one
would think she was off to battle an army by herself, Serena marched back to
her bedroom, dumped the yellow envelope in the small wastebasket by her bed,
and dusted her hands off smartly.
That was it. The last remains of the entire, sordid
deal.
It was time to live again.
"Stop it!" She hissed at her head.
"Stop what?"
"I didn't say anything!" She snapped irritably, her head
spinning beyond control.
Darien looked around the deserted hallway of her apartment
building, "So I'm hearing things?"
"That, or you're eavesdropping, which is very rude, I'll
have you know," she sighed, suddenly tired.
"Miss Corday," Darien announced, an amused smile that was
annoying as it was charming. "I think you are a bit tipsy."
Her temper blazed adorably. "Are you suggesting that
I'm drunk, Mr.
McDermott?"
He stepped closer and suddenly Serena wasn't half as much
woozy as she was nervous by his proximity. "Was I being subtle? I apologize.
You're as drunk as a skunk, Serena."
"Ooooo," she flared. "I am not most certainly!" Her
bee stung lips were
more pronounced when she was drunk, he realized. And the
effect of her
charming words was quite appealing. Even if her words didn't
come out in
exactly the right order…
"Yes, you are."
"I are not!"
"Are too," his voice was husky and he still had that
blasted grin on
his handsome face.
"No!" She shook her head and then grimaced when the room
once again danced a crazy gig.
"Yes," he shook his head in the same manner, mimicking her
adorable actions.
"Do you know, Mr. McDermott," she said primly, the effect
of which was nothing short of hilarious, her trying her hardest to be proper
when she was intoxicated. "That it is rather ungentlemanly of you to dispute
the fact that I am not drunk?"
"Well, who ever said I was a gentleman?" He leaned forward
and nipped her ear lightly. When he pulled back, she was frozen, her large eyes
staring at him.
"You go home now," she nodded, as if confirming her
words to herself.
Her unintentionally beguiling features were an
aphrodisiac and Darien
groaned inwardly. "I promise I won't bite."
"You just did!" She slurred out. A silly smile swept
across her face.
She pointed an unsteady figure at his mouth. "You have
teeth. Teeth pretty."
She giggled uncontrollably.
Darien couldn't help but laugh with her. All he had
suggested was that she drink half a glass of wine to calm her jumpy nerves. She
had looked at the glass and then him, suspicion all over her face. After
reassuring her half a glass wouldn't do much to her system and he wouldn't jump
her bones, she had complied. How one drink had turned to three he would never
know.
"You're drunk, Serena," he stated again.
you...you," she seemed to have lost her train of thought
as she stood still, blinking.
"Yes?" he prompted, his smirk sexy and infuriating. When
she failed to respond, he took the key from her loose grasp and opened the
door. Guiding her in, he shut the door behind them. "I'll make you some coffee
and put you to bed."
"Bed? Where bed?" She seemed to think this was hilarious
as she plopped down on the couch, her beaded purse flung across the room by her
giddy hands.
He shook his head and found his way around her neat
kitchen with ease.
"The mumps will make you bumpy, the bumps will make you
lumpy, the chicken pox'll make you jump and twitch. Whooo! The common cold will
fool ya, the whooping cough'll cool ya, but poison ivy alone will make you
itch!"
Darien saw the flighty female on the sofa, her arms raised
above her head in a frenzied dance. He slightly winced as she commenced the
chorus:
"Poison iiiivvvyyyy. Poison iiivvyyy. Late at night when
you're sleeping, poison ivy'll come a-creeping aaaarooouund!"
She was suddenly silent, a stricken look befalling her
sweet face.
Darien came to her quickly, asking her what it was.
"I don't know the words," she whispered achingly, and Darien
could have sworn her eyes filled up with tears. That was before a mood swing
kicked in and she burst out laughing, falling back against the cushions in her
glee.
Darien shook his head before picking her up and carrying
her to the room that was most probably her bedroom. Setting her down on the
femininely flowered covers, he bent over, helping her detangle her arms from
around him neck.
She stared at him with serious eyes while he slid off her
heels. "One, two, buckle my shoe!" She crowed, dissolving into yet another fit
of giggles. But she stopped grinning when he came closer to unsnap her earrings
and bracelet.
Darien noticed the peculiarity of the situation with a
wry, inward shake of his head. Here he was playing mother to the woman that
made him feel a desire unlike anything ever before. He rested her head back
against the pillow, pulling the sheets up to her chin. When he turned around to
walk back, she caught his hand with a rather strong grip for a drunk woman.
"Darien?" She whispered.
"Hmmm?" He sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed her
loose hair off
her forehead.
"If I screamed, would you come?"
He smiled reassuringly and nodded.
"And if I wasn't attractive, would you still be my
friend?"
Again he nodded.
"And if I was broken, would you still want me?" Her
face was no longer
impish, but the childlike need and utter trust was still in
her eyes, burning up at him. He was startled at the strange words and even
stranger meaning, but he still nodded, satisfying her.
She fell against the pillows and promptly drifted off to
sleep. Darien leaned over to flick off the small light on her night table, when
something bright caught his eye straight below him. Nestled in the wicker
basket near her bed, was a manila envelope addressed to a city in India. A
curiosity that was whetted only further because of the dealings he had
currently with the country had him reach down and pick it up. He turned it over
in his hands, knowing he should put it back, knowing that it was none of his business.
He looked over at the innocent angel curled up in her bed and he knew it was
simply and irrefutably wrong.
But knowing all the above could not stop him from gently
prying open the unbroken seal and shaking its contents out. His jaw clenched
and his eyes quickly skimmed the letter that was joined with the revealing photographs.
Anger poured into his veins as his head turned to her sleeping form
instinctively, as if to make sure she was all right and here with him.
He quietly slipped the papers
into the small package and tucked it under his arm. He leaned over to kiss her
forehead tenderly, pausing when she shifted and mumbled something incoherent.
He then turned off the light and walked out the door, the coffee still brewing
where he left.
Serena awoke the next morning with the blessing of only a
minor headache that dulled with a few aspirin. She entered Darien's office the next
day and was received the benediction of a slight smile from his secretary. Positive
that the doughnuts and coffee had been the old bat's undoing, Serena resolved
to fetch her some more the next morning.
She slid through the formidable doors with a certain
anxiety. She knew she had been drunk the night before and that Darien had been
with her in her apartment, but she could not recollect if she had managed to
say something embarrassing or mortifying. She supposed she would soon have her
answer, she realized grimly, as soon as she turned and looked right into
Darien's blue eyes.
When she did so, she found something alien in them all
right, but it wasn't like anything she was expecting. There was no mocking, no
teasing.
"Darien?" She asked tentatively, vaguely wondering if
someone had died or been hurt.
"Hello, Serena," he said gently.
She decided to dismiss the loving tone as pity for
something she had
said last night. Surely it could not have been that bad. She
shrugged and chose to ignore the entire ordeal and maybe he would follow suit.
"So," she said brightly, "What's on the agenda today?"
He shook his head grimly. "I ended the entire deal
with Singh."
She gasped as her eyes widened. "Why?"
"There was no way in hell I'd merge with the man who
raised a rapist."