The Venice Incident
by Apple-chan

Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here

LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^

Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least gone that far in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.

Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.

Hugs and credits goes to da*mouse, for helping me with the start of this particular chapter. Thank you thankees, Nezumi-chan!^_^

Chapter 5 - The Pope and the Hermit


The glare of the morning sun, coupled with loud noises from the motorboats roaring about outside caused a small disturbance, thereby leading a silvery-blue haired maiden to open her eyes.

Jeanne gazed around her, surveying her surroundings sleepily. Apart from her argument with Lyserg, and then eating dinner with him and going to bed, she couldn't remember a single thing that had occurred starting late last night until early dawn. All she had were faint, blurry memories. She remembered feeling really hot...and then, really, really cold. She remembered shivering, sneezing, coughing...dying. And then...

A loud sigh interrupted her thoughts. Her whole body went rigid as she felt the rush of a warm breath near the back of her neck...and something that felt strangely human beside her, on the bed. Behind her.

With a small, dainty yawn, she glanced down...and noticed a pair of arms around her waist. She ran her gaze from the pair of arms up, until her eyes reached the shoulders, then the neck...and finally, the face. The owner of the said arms.

...Lyserg. Abruptly, she was wide awake.

She should have known. How long has he been holding her like that? She couldn't quite remember.

Jeanne shifted from her position in the bed so that she was facing him, painstakingly making sure that she was gentle with her movements so that he won't be disturbed. It wouldn't do any good to wake him up, for he looked extremely tired. She reached over and traced the faint shadow of eye bags underneath his eyes. He had probably spent most of his time late last night worrying about her condition, furiously searching for anything and anyone who can help make her better...and taking care of her.

That particular thought warmed her heart. She smiled softly to herself, her fingers moving from his eyes to stroke the stray hairs at his face. Her hands shifted and brushed against the contours of his cheeks gently. That action earned her a faint sigh from Lyserg...and he smiled in his sleep, as if urging her to go on, continue with her tender ministrations.

Jeanne's whole body went rigid once again as Lyserg's arms shifted a little bit higher around her, pulling her even closer towards him.

Although she was wearing two layers of his clothing, and with a very thick blanket wrapped around her besides, Jeanne was perfectly aware of the fact that her body--her whole body--was only a mere couple of millimeters away from his. She could feel well enough how extremely close the two of them were. Even though he was also fully clothed, their proximity was quite...too much. Much too close for comfort...and certainly close enough to the point that it hovered on the brink of being indecent. Immoral.

Strangely enough, instead of being bothered by that fact, Jeanne felt...oddly comforted. This was the first time she has ever been THIS close to a man. More correctly, the first time she's ever been in BED, with a MAN. Granted, she and Lyserg had only slept...but still, they had spent the entire night in ONE BED, together...and the meaning underneath that bordered on scandalous. Or rather, treaded very dangerously on scandalous ground. If granted that this HAD been the old, ancient times, she would have been immediately branded a fallen woman, and he would have been thrown straight into the lion's den.

Anyway, it comes quite as a relief to Jeanne that it was, in fact, the 21st century, and neither of them need be bothered by such trivial, inconsistent, stereotypical and inaccurate judgments of the past. She gave a small sigh.

It would be very unfair to prosecute Lyserg for wanting to take care of me, for making sure I was out of any harm, and for helping me gain my strength back in probably the only methods he knew. Very unfair, indeed. And inconceivably unjust, as well...
The green-haired young detective exhaled loudly, startling Jeanne...and making her realize that her hands were still at his face, continuously touching him, her fingers stroking his wonderfully smooth, fair cheeks. As smooth as any woman's, and yet...showed faint signs of a recently shaven beard and moustache--clear evidences that he was, in fact, a man. A very handsome man.

A strange warmth crawled up on Jeanne's face at that thought. Warmth that had nothing to do whatsoever with her recent fever...and everything to do with her current musings. She KNEW he was handsome, of course. He'd always been handsome, and for the length of time that they've been comrades, and later, friends, she'd always known that.

However...that's not to say that she'd been particularly...AWARE of it, exactly. That was years ago, and at that time, they had both been mere children, too busy worrying about the Shaman Fight and about purifying the world from the sins of man to care about something as trivial as looks.

Still, that's not to say that she didn't actually notice...for she certainly did. She wondered if...HE had noticed her then, too...or had his only concern back then been his revenge for his parents' deaths?

Jeanne paused abruptly and frowned at Lyserg; and then, at her hand, which had just finished its journey across his face and was currently making its way towards his neck. Briefly, she wondered if she was at the liberty to ask him about that...or if will even be necessary to ask. She could probably be able to figure that out on her own...couldn't she?

At the back of her mind, she wondered why in the name of all the saints she was still touching him...and why it felt SO darn natural to be doing it...

...And why she didn't seem to want to stop. Touching him felt SO good, SO right, and...

Lyserg stirred, then slowly opened his eyes and yawned. "Good morning," he greeted her sleepily.

Jeanne pulled her hand back quickly as if she'd been burned. She could feel her cheeks flaming. She wondered if HER...touches were what woke him up. Horrified at that thought, she found herself unable to move in his arms as he gazed at her, and she looked back at him. "G...good m..morning..." She heard herself utter in garbled French.

Garbled French. She fought the urge to groan out loud and compensated by mentally kicking herself instead.

An oddly confused look crossed over the green-haired Englishman's face. "Why are you speaking to me in French?" He murmured questioningly, his eyes roving over her face, examining her critically. "I mean, you've never..." his eyes widened upon realizing their current position on the bed. He removed his hands from around her and sat up quickly, turning his back towards her. "...Sorry," he muttered under his breath.

Jeanne sat up as well, holding the robe she was wearing securely at her front. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest, her mind unavoidably reeling at the sudden emptiness she felt. Emptiness that was solely due to the fact that he no longer had his arms around her. She was no longer nestled in the comfort of his embrace. She was no longer touching him... "It's nothing..."

A sigh. "I'm sorry," he repeated, as if he didn't hear her. "I didn't realize that you were awake and that I..." his voice trailed off, and he shook his head helplessly as he reluctantly turned his head to look at her. "Anyway...are you alright?"

"Alright?" She gave him a confused look.

"Your fever," he explained. With an agreeable amount of caution, he inched closer towards her on the bed and reached out, feeling her forehead with his hand. He leveled his eyes with hers, frowning thoughtfully. "...your temperature seems to have gone down. That's good..." He murmured, smiling with relief.

Jeanne could feel herself blushing beneath his gaze. Taking a deep breath, she gathered up her courage and tried to fight off her embarrassment, while at the same time, forced herself to break the eye contact with him.

She wasn't having much success with either. And besides, it wasn't like she really wanted to look away... "I'm fine," she assured, quite surprised at the huskiness in her voice.

...And yes, perfectly aware that he had not taken his hand off of her even though he was long done checking her temperature.

"You're sure?" She gave an affirmative nod, suppressing the sigh of pleasure that threatened to escape her lips as his hands moved to caress her hair. "...Good." He declared, his browns furrowing as he continued to subject her under his intense gaze.

Jeanne swallowed, her eyes unblinking as she returned his gaze. The two of them regarded each other in silence for a good couple of minutes.

...Until a knock sounded on the door. "Room service!" A voice chirped in Italian-accented English.

"I'll get it!" Jeanne shouted hastily, getting up and rushing towards the door before Lyserg could. "Good morning!" She greeted as she opened the door.

"...Breakfast for two, on the house," the bespectacled hotel manager announced, smiling brightly at Jeanne as he motioned the bellhop to wheel the tray in.

"On the house?" Lyserg stood up from the bed and gave the man a puzzled look. "Again?" He narrowed his eyes as the bellhop loaded out the breakfast trays on the dining table in the room.

"Si." The manager answered. "Compliments of the hotel," he explained, with a slight bow of his head. "We hope you will enjoy it, Signor, Signorina." He paused. "And before I forget..." He glanced outside the door and nodded. A maid entered, wheeling a compartment laden with towels and blankets...and yes, their newly-washed, freshly dried clothes.

Jeanne gave a sigh of relief upon spotting her white dress. "Good! I can finally change my clothes now." She smiled gratefully as the maid loaded out the clothes on top of the dresser. "Uh...grazie." The maid gave a small bow, then walked off.

Lyserg glanced at the clothes, before turning to the manager again, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "Are you sure these are free? Meaning no disrespect or anything but..." he frowned at the dining table. "...Dinner last night, and now, breakfast. I really won't be paying for these, am I?"

"No, of course not, Signor." The manager shook his head vigorously. "...Everything is free, I give you my word."

The young detective continued to narrow his eyes at the other man, still not fully convinced.

"Lyserg..." Jeanne gave him a meaningful look. "If he says it's free, then it must be. He's not about to lie to us," she added. "...isn't that right?"

"Si." The manager smiled at her gratefully. "I do not lie about these things."

"Well...okay," Lyserg said finally. "Thank you. I mean, grazie."

"Grazie." The manager gave them one last bow and walked out, together with the bellhop.

As soon as they had left, Jeanne smiled brightly at him. "Shall we have breakfast, then?" She sat down on one of the seats and gave him a look.

He grudgingly sat down beside her, staring with dismay at the large spread of food before him. "...Too much meat," he muttered, eyeing the bacon and cold cuts with distaste. He took the bowl of fruit oatmeal that had obviously been made for him. "Just like last night's dinner. I can't eat anything else here besides this." He held up the bowl with emphasis.

Jeanne shrugged as she ate the bacon, eggs, cold cuts, and the rest of her food with relish. "It's free. We could request for something else," she suggested.

"NO." Lyserg shook his head firmly. "Room service is expensive." He took a small bite of the oatmeal. "...At least this is good."

She placed her glass of orange juice on the table and raised a fine eyebrow at him. "I thought you said money is no problem at all with you detectives."

"...That's different," He countered. "This is food for me. I don't like spending money too much for myself. But if it's for you, well...that's a different matter altoge--" He stopped short and blushed profusely as he realized what he was saying. He averted his eyes and pretended to be very, very interested in his breakfast.

"You don't like spending too much for you, but you don't mind if it's for me?" She could feel the heat rising up to her cheeks. "Lyserg, that's...that's..." her voice trailed off. She knew she was blushing so incredibly hard right now...just like he was.

They resumed eating their breakfast in silence. In a long, extremely tensed, uncomfortable silence. Nervous silence. Awkward.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lyserg coughed. "Jeanne...?"

She looked up from her toast. "Yes?"

"Are you...are you sure you're alright? I mean, seriously? Because you know..." he coughed nervously. "Late last night and earlier this morning, you were shivering so hard and you were so hot that I didn't think you would..." He paused, sighing helplessly. "I didn't know what I was going to do, so I asked for Caesar and Luc and Sister Sarah's help," he confessed. "But even after that, you still wouldn't stop shivering, so I had to...I had to..."

"Embrace me?" She supplied helpfully, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

He gave her a sheepish look. "S...sorry."

"For what?" She asked blankly.

"...for doing that without permission." He answered. "I mean--"

"--and thereby giving me my strength back?" Jeanne interrupted, her smile finally appearing. "You have nothing to feel sorry about. If anything...I should be thanking you." She gazed at him, her eyes showing deep, sincere warmth. "I don't think I'd be up and about right now if it weren't for you...you, and Caesar, and Luc, and Sister Sarah. Everyone helped in healing me. Everyone...but most especially you, Lyserg." She paused. "If you hadn't...embraced me the way...you did, I might have..." She sighed, unable to continue, almost as if whatever it was that would follow in her statement was just simply unthinkable. "The important thing is, I'm perfectly fine now...and it's all because of you." She drew in a deep breath. "So Lyserg...thank you. So much."

"Y...you're welcome," Lyserg managed, somehow at a loss for words.

Jeanne nodded.

"...But you know..." Finally gaining back his composure, he spoke again. "It's really nothing."

She gave another nod, not trusting her voice to speak. He was looking at her so intensely...

"I mean...as long as I know that...that you're safe, and you're healthy, that's enough thanks for me."

...And as he continued to looked at her that time, and she gazed back at him, she saw something in his eyes...something she knew she would always remember for the rest of her life. A deep, warm emotion that she would never ever forget...

His emotion.

She could never forget it...because she felt it too.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"...Jeanne?" Lyserg called out to the bathroom as he pulled on his dark green boots. "Are you finished?"

"Just about," Jeanne's muffled voice called back. In a few minutes, the bathroom door opened and out came the silvery-blue haired maiden, wearing her freshly-laundered white short-sleeved dress. She stepped into her sandals, sighing contentedly. "I feel SO much better wearing these."

The green-haired detective chuckled as he stood up, handing her his newly-washed black hooded overcoat. "You look much better in them, too." He paused, thinking. "Not that I didn't particularly like seeing you in my clothes, of course..." he muttered under his breath.

Catching that statement, she blushed slightly as she took the offered coat and wrapped it around her. "Thank you. Are we going?"

"Uh-huh." He smiled. "We should drop by Luc's and Caesar's rooms for a bit, though. I'll have to inform them where I'll be heading so they can meet me somewhere. Morphin, let's go!" He told his power spirit, and at once, the pink fairy floated towards him and landed on his shoulder. He walked towards the door. "...Jeanne?" He frowned. "What in the world are you doing?" He wondered, watching her by the bed.

She had just finished straightening the bedcovers. She took her small purse and rushed to his side. "...Sorry. I just had to do that." She gave him an apologetic look. "Obsessive compulsion. I can't stand seeing anything wrinkled." She explained.

Lyserg sighed as he gave her an amused smile. "Is that right?" He raised an eyebrow. "Hmm...well, anyway, let's go then...CAESAR?!?!?" He almost lost his balance as, upon opening the door, the red-haired Englishman's grinning face greeted him. "Are you trying to give me a BLOODY heart attack?!?" He inhaled several times, glaring at Caesar the whole way. He shut the door as he and Jeanne walked out, and together with the other man, they walked across the hallway, heading towards nowhere in particular.

"Nope. Just wanted to greet you and Miss Jeanne a good morning," The other man replied breezily. "...Miss Jeanne," Upon spotting the silvery-blue haired maiden, he gave a surprised, but otherwise relieved smile. "How are you doing?"

She smiled in return. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you and Sister Sarah and Luc...and of course, Lyserg." She gave the green-haired Englishman a fond look.

Caesar raised a knowing eyebrow at the still-glaring Lyserg's direction. "You're welcome, Miss Jeanne." He grinned meaningfully. "I'm glad Lyserg took my advice." He added.

"What advice?" Jeanne wanted to know.

"Nothing much," Caesar answered cheerfully, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I just told him to wrap his arms around you." He grinned. "...In case you remain cold and shivering even after the antibiotic, that is." He shrugged, then flashed Lyserg a wink, causing the latter to blush and glare at him even more. "Anyway, are you two going off somewhere?" He grinned wickedly. "On a DATE? So early in the MORNING?"

Ignoring his final statement, Lyserg asked, "Where's Luc?"

This time, Caesar frowned. "...Back in his room." He sighed. "He said he couldn't stand my nosing about his business, so he went back there around..." He glanced at his watch. "...Three hours ago. Five this morning." He snorted. "If you asked me, I think he just wants to take this opportunity to finally execute his EVIL perverted plan towards..." He paused abruptly, eyes widening as he remembered that Jeanne was with them.

"Towards...?" Jeanne gave him an expectant look.

"Uhm..." Caesar glanced nervously around him. "....Nothing! So...where are you two heading?" He asked instead, purposely changing the subject.

Lyserg shook his head exasperatedly at his friend. "I'm taking Jeanne back to the missionary house. But I was going to drop by yours and Luc's rooms first, so I could tell you where I'm going." He gave Caesar a look. "...But since you're here, then we only need to go by Luc's." He paused. "Are you coming?"

"Bloody hell, yeah! Of course I am!" Caesar exclaimed eagerly. "I want to see if Boss Luc somehow managed to succeed in his evil--" Remembering once again that Jeanne was with them, he coughed. "I mean...OUR plans. Yeah." He nodded decisively as they walked in a specific direction this time...to Luc's room.

Jeanne nudged Lyserg and gave him a puzzled look. The green-haired Englishman shrugged, unable to explain to her what Caesar was saying just a little while ago, for it undeniably involved Luc doing certain things to Sister Sarah--things that somehow bordered on immoral...NOT that Caesar was actually serious about it. But, anyway...they reached Luc's room after a couple of more steps.

Caesar shooed them both from the door and placed his hands on the knob.

He was about to open it when something hit him--and he paused, all of a sudden. "Hmm...something's...wrong," he mused, his forehead creased as he felt around the emotions inside the room. "Lyserg...Miss Jeanne, I think--" The door suddenly swung open, interrupting the rest of his sentence.

Lyserg, Caesar and Jeanne watched with surprise as the silvery-blonde haired nun rushed out, slightly breathless, her blue eyes stricken with panic and confusion. She was blushing quite profusely, as well...

"S...Sister Sarah?" Jeanne gazed at her superior with concern. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"J...Jeanne!" Sister Sarah's eyes widened, regarding the younger woman as if she had only realized her presence. "...I'm fine. I'm just fine," She repeated, nodding her head vigorously. "I'm alright. I'm fine," she repeated once more, like she was trying to convince herself. "I..." She gazed around frantically. "...I'd better go. I'll see you back at the missionary house, Jeanne! Goodbye, Lyserg, Caesar!" Then, she ran off, her long hair trailing behind her, white dress floating as she whizzed past them like a frenzied bullet.

Lyserg and Jeanne stared in the direction the nun went, and then, they gave each other a puzzled look. Meanwhile, Caesar had already walked inside Luc's room, cautiously taking his steps a little at a time, just in case the telekinetic suddenly gets the urge to throw him against the wall again. He felt around the room, wincing a little bit as he caught flashes of Luc's emotions. He placed it beside the emotions he had managed to catch from Sister Sarah, and, in no time at all, he was able to put the pieces of the puzzle together...and finally realized what happened.

He paused abruptly as his eye caught the light-brown haired detective's form. Luc was standing in front of the bathroom sink, glaring darkly at the mirror. His face was also quite red, just like Sister Sarah's had been.

"...Luc?" Jeanne asked tentatively as she and Lyserg finally entered the room. "What happened?"

The windows rattled as Luc growled with frustration. Reluctantly, he turned around and walked out of the bathroom. "What are you all doing here?" He asked in a hard, icy tone.

"Never mind what we're doing here," Caesar waved his question away and flashed him a meaningful look. "What have you done?"

"I haven't done ANYTHING!" The door slammed as Luc shouted.

Caesar snorted. "Oh, REALLY?"

"I HADN'T!" The windows burst open.

"Then why IN THE WORLD did she RUN AWAY so suddenly? Huh?"

Luc glared at him. "I don't know, DAMMIT!" He punched his fist against the closet. The four poster-bed rattled angrily. "I mean...I didn't...didn't mean to..."

"Luc," Lyserg asked impatiently, "Just tell us. Why did she run off like that?"

Luc didn't answer. He just stared off into space, frowning deeply.

"Caesar?" Lyserg raised a brow in inquiry. "You know what happened, right?"

Caesar rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sighing with exasperation at Luc. "...Yeah."

"Would you care to tell us?"

"Well--"

"DON'T YOU DARE," Luc said in a threatening tone. "I'm warning you, Silverberg. DON'T. YOU. DARE. Not a word of this from your bloody freaking mouth."

Caesar exhaled. "But Luc, it's not like Sister Sarah's not going to eventually tell Miss Jeanne what happened. I mean, she's a holy servant," he reasoned. "She's not about to lie now, is she?" He added.

Luc sighed with irritation, taking turns glaring at all of them before he shook his head. "...FINE! Do whatever you want. I don't care one bloody bit." Then, with a final, deadly look at the three of them, he pulled on his coat, hailed the door open, and rushed out of the room.

"Luc, where are you going?" Jeanne called out.

"Out!" Was the curt reply.

Lyserg and Jeanne gave each other a confused look. Then, shrugging, Lyserg turned to Caesar. "Care to tell us what happened now?"

"Sure!" Caesar said cheerfully, hopping on top of Luc's four-poster. "I'll tell you..." He motioned for the two of them to come closer.

Jeanne sat down on the chair beside the vanity as Lyserg sat beside Caesar on the bed. "So...what was that all about?" She gazed at him expectantly.

"Well, see the thing is..." Caesar lowered his voice, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "...Luc accidentally kissed Sister Sarah."

"WHAT?!?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Well, here we are." Lyserg announced as he stepped off the motorboat and rushed back to assist Jeanne, clasping her hands firmly with his.

She smiled brightly up at him. "Thank you." She gazed up at the tall, old-fashioned churchlike building of the Venice Missionary house. "I wonder if Sister Sarah got here safely..." she murmured.

A sigh. "I'm sorry about what happened." He declared quietly as they walked towards the front, her hands still tightly curled up against his.

"It's not your fault," Jeanne pointed out. "...And I don't think it's Luc's fault, either. Neither was it Sister Sarah's." She added. "I mean...based from what Caesar's told us, it doesn't seem like it was anyone's fault, for that matter. It was...unavoidably a product of fate."

"You believe in fate?" He raised an eyebrow. "...You believe in fate, and you also believe in fortune telling? Is that why you always ask Tamao-san to give you a reading every single year?"

"Uh-huh." Jeanne gave a faint nod. "I believe in a lot of things. You know that." She said dryly. "Anyway...Caesar said he'd meet you back at the hotel, is that right?"

Lyserg nodded. "He'll be searching around for Luc. It's about time we start working on that case." He shrugged. "We need to get Luc back on track, else we'll never get this done." He gave another sigh. "You know, Caesar and I have been praying a long time for Luc to finally meet a woman who'll be able to make him happy...but we never actually thought she'd be a nun." He shook his head. "He's got the worst luck in the entire planet."

She chuckled. "Maybe not. If we are to believe Caesar, the feeling isn't exactly one-sided..." her voice trailed off. She could feel her cheeks turning pink as she recalled the red-haired Englishman's words earlier.

"He likes her a whole lot. And the feeling's mutual, it seems." A meaningful grin. "Their feelings for each other somewhat resemble what you two have...except that theirs is in the early stages, while yours..." He paused. "Yours are much, much deeper...way beyond the Grand Canal. Way beyond the Marianas Trench."
It was obvious that, just as he was referring to Luc and Sister Sarah, he was also quite clearly referring to her and Lyserg...and she wondered about that...

"So anyway, Jeanne..." She was brought back to reality as Lyserg's hands squeezed hers gently. "Are you going in or not?"

"Yes. I am." She nodded, staring thoughtfully at their joined hands, an odd sort of warmth circulating inside her body, rushing from her head down to the tips of her toes. "...Will you go in with me?" She heard herself ask.

"No." He said quickly, with a vigorous shake of his head. "I should get going."

"You don't want to be with me anymore?" She flashed him a hurt look.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He protested. "I meant...Marco-san." He winced slightly as he uttered the name. "...He might be in there, and I'm not exactly sure he'd be too thrilled to see you with me." He gazed at her helplessly. "You understand..."

"...Yeah. I do." She gave a loud, forlorn sigh.

"Anyway," Lyserg continued, "I'll see you again. If not here, then...back in London." He untangled one of his hands from hers, and raised it to her face, caressing her cheeks softly. "...Is that alright?"

Closing her eyes, she sighed contentedly, savoring the wonderful warmth of his touch. "Uh-hm..."

His other hand tightened against hers as he gave an indrawn breath. "Good." And then, he bent down...and brushed a gentle, soft kiss against her cheek. His lips lingered on her skin for quite a while. A long, long while...

"G...goodbye." Jeanne could feel her heart thumping inside her chest. He hadn't let her go yet, and it seems that he had no plans of doing so anytime soon.

...She didn't really mind. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel his lips traveling from her cheek, then to her chin...and then slowly ascended, until he was touching the corners of her mouth...

"Lyserg Diethyl." A low male voice uttered from behind them, sounding extremely angry. A familiar voice. A very, very, VERY familiar voice.

"M...Marco-san!" The green-haired young Englishman dropped Jeanne's hand and let go of her extremely quickly, his eyes widening with alarm and fear. "I...uhm..."

"Leave. Now." The blonde-haired former X-LAWS second-in-command said in a steely tone. "Leave, before I lose my control and kill you." He looked extremely livid.

"O...okay." Lyserg gazed around him nervously, wondering where in the world he was supposed to catch a motorboat ride in this place...there. "J...Jeanne...I'll see you."

"No, you WILL NOT." Marco approached him and clamped a hand against his shoulder. Hard. "You will leave now, and you are NEVER going to see her again. NEVER going to touch her again. NEVER going to kiss her AGAIN. And MOST of ALL--"

"--Marco." Jeanne interrupted with an impatient sigh. She pulled her guardian's hand away from Lyserg's shoulder and gave him a warning look. "Stop this nonsense right now." She told him firmly.

"B...but...Maiden-sama...he..." Marco swallowed, throwing Lyserg a furious glare. "He...KISSED you. He should NOT have done that. It's NOT proper. He's taken advantage of you and--"

"He has NOT taken advantage of me in ANY way," She assured him hastily. "The whole time we were together, he has taken care of me and regarded me with the RESPECT that I so deserved," she stated with emphasis. "There is no need for you to go off bullying him."

"But Maiden-sama--"

"Marco." She flashed him a look that gave no room for an argument.

"...Alright," Marco relented. With a final, dark glare at Lyserg, he stalked off towards the missionary house, huffing as he did so. "Jeanne-sama...you MUST get back inside as well," He called out over his shoulder.

"I'll be right there!" Jeanne called back. Turning to Lyserg, she gave him an apologetic look. "...I have to get going," She told him. "I'm so sorry about that," she inclined her head at the direction Marco went off to. "I mean, you know how he is..."

"Yes. I do." Recovering from quite a scare, courtesy of Marco, the green-haired Englishman managed a smile. "He's protective of you...almost to a point of obsession..."

"Hmph." She snorted dryly. "Yes, he is." Gazing at Lyserg one last time, she told him forlornly, "I really have to go now. Thank you for everything." She walked towards him, rose up on tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. "...Goodbye." Then, with extreme reluctance, she pulled away and ran towards the door of the missionary house. She turned around and gave him a small wave.

Lyserg waved back as he watched her enter the building. A heavy feeling suddenly overwhelmed his heart the minute she had disappeared from his sight. With a loud sigh, he shook his head, glancing one last time at the building before turning around. He turned his gaze to Morphin on his shoulder and smiled faintly. "Well...I guess we'd better get back to the hotel, then." He walked off towards the motorboat station, his gloom increasing with every step as he realized that it would probably be a long time before he sees her again.

A very, very, very long time.

TSUZUKU.

PLUG!!! Chapter 1 of Vestige of Dreams is now up! Please read! Please review! Thank you thankees!^_^

End notes:

Second to the last chapter will be posted next week!^_^

Chapter title symbolizes Marco, with reference to two tarot cards based on the reading that Tamao did for Jeanne in Celebrations [Chapter 4: The Preparations Begin]. The Pope means ritual and routine, religious guidance, and authority. The Hermit means groundless suspicions about the motives of others (negative), caution, discretion, the need for prudence, counsel sought and taken, and a wise guide or spiritual mentor.

Not that Marco's wise, mind you...but these are the only cards in the tarot set that suited him--as compared with the cards symbolizing Lyserg.

As always, please do review! Thanks a lot!^_^