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.
Note: I'm deviating a little bit from the main fic title in this chapter, as you
will see.^_^
Chapter 6 - Strength and the Star
Three weeks later
Milan, Italy
"Grazie." A silvery-blue haired maiden wrapped in a black hooded overcoat
smiled at the manager at the counter as she took the large take-out cup of
coffee.
The manager nodded graciously as she handed the maiden a paper bag filled with
pastries. "Compliments of the Bistro to such a beautiful young lady." She
announced in Italian-accented English.
The silvery-blue haired young lady, who was none other than Iron Maiden Jeanne,
pinked slightly but she managed a bright smile. "Grazie once again,
Signora." She murmured as she took the offered bag gratefully.
"It is a pleasure." The middle-aged manager declared.
"I have to get going." Jeanne gave a small, polite bow. "...Goodbye!" With a
small wave, she turned on her heel and walked off, all the while cradling her
cup of coffee with one hand, and her purse and the bag of pastries with the
other.
Sighing a little bit, she unsealed the cover on her cup of coffee, taking a
couple of sips as she crossed the pathway towards the Bistro's exit, rustling a
couple of leaves from the plant decorations as she did so. She glanced around
her briefly as she continued to drink. It was almost nine in the morning, and
the Bistro's inner area was completely filled, somehow indicating that the
people in Milan were used to having their breakfast at around this time. The
outdoor cafe, meanwhile, has been completely filled ever since she got here
earlier, clearly implying that most people in Milan much preferred sitting out
in the open air than indoors.
It wasn't that hard to explain why the Bistro was completely filled. Aside from
the fact that it was the typical breakfast time for Milan residents, the Bistro
was also located right smack dab in the middle of the city's Main Street, and
that says a lot on how famous the place is and how many loyal patrons it must
have. Although, Jeanne wasn't exactly a loyal patron--she just came down from
the hotel where she was staying in Milan and she just happened to pass by the
Bistro, very much in need of coffee. However, she had no intention of buying any
food from the said place at all, for she was planning to go around the city and
visit the shops and it would be rather awkward to eat while walking and
shopping.
But as it is...she had been given free breakfast, and she was not about to let
it go to waste. She needed to sit down before she eats, though.
...Which presents us with the fifty-million-pound question: if the Bistro was
filled up, then where was she supposed to sit?
Jeanne paused and made a move to replace the cover on her cup of coffee, but
then, realizing that there wouldn't be much point in it, she crumpled up the
cover and threw it in a nearby trash bin. Sighing, she resumed walking until she
reached the door leading to the Bistro's outer area. She stepped back as a
couple of young Italian men walked inside, smiling at them in acknowledgement as
they greeted her good morning in their language. She rolled her eyes to the
ceiling as the young men continued to stare at her as they walked away, thereby
leading them to crash straight into a waiter. She shook her head ruefully as she
headed out.
Staring men--she and Sister Sarah got that a lot, with the nun getting a lot
more stares than she ever would, much to her relief. Although the
attention was quite flattering, it was extremely hazardous for them--the men,
that is--quite especially when Marco was around. The blonde, bespectacled man's
presence was quite forboding...and his glare, if you weren't used to it, was
quite synonymous to death by means of torture. Death by means of castration. She
winced. Marco really was too protective of her...much to the point of
obsession, as Lyserg had pointed out to her a couple of weeks ago.
Lyserg. The thought of her green-haired, green-eyed English
detective...friend...made her blush, for some reason. He was the only
male human being in the entire planet who was...immune to Marco's death glares.
Having been the main receiver of it since time immemorial, the young Englishman
probably developed some sort of shield to it. Either that, Jeanne
thought, or it doesn't matter to him whether Marco feeds him to the vultures
or sends him off on an unexpected trip to Timbuktu...just as long he gets to be
with me...she sighed with exasperation at herself. Wishful thinking, is
it not, Jeanne-sama...? Do you really think he would risk his own life just so
the two of you can be together?
Well...at least I know for a fact that, come hell or high water, he
would do anything just to make sure I was healthy and safe from any sort of
harm...anything. I've already proven that. The lengths he would go to
just to make sure I was well out of danger...
"OOOFFF!!!" Jeanne exclaimed, quite startled as she bumped into a tall form.
"Oh...oh, NO..." She looked at her hand with horror as she realized that, upon
crashing into the tall form, she'd managed to drop her coffee cup straight onto
the person's shirt in the process. "I am SO sorry...I mean..." She glanced down,
furiously racking her brain for the proper way to say "I apologize" in Italian,
and at the same time, wondering why she had forgotten her basic Italian all of a
sudden. "Gomen nasai...wait, that's Japanese...uh, excusez-moi...no,
that's French...I mean..."
A soft chuckle brought her back to reality. "It's fine, miss." A male voice
assured her. "No need to translate your apology. I understood the English one
quite perfectly," he added, a note of humor in his voice. "Wait, hold on a
minute...you sound familiar..." The man shifted his head and peered at her face.
"J...JEANNE?!?!?"
"...LYSERG?!??!?" Her eyes widened as she stared back in disbelief at those
familiar green eyes, that familiar face...and she could feel herself blushing
profusely as she realized what she had just managed to do. "I am SO sorry about
your shirt..." Grabbing him, she frantically inspected his white shirt,
desperately trying to undo the damage the spill of the hot liquid had made on
the white fabric. "...Wait a second," pausing, she frowned and looked up at him.
"It's dry. I could have sworn..." Her voice trailed off as she realized.
Lyserg smiled brightly as he inclined his head at his power spirit. "Yup. She's
quick," he patted the pink fairy spirit's chin with his finger. "...Shielded me
from your coffee before a droplet even got close. So don't worry about it," he
added. "Oh. And Jeanne..."
"Huh?" She gave him a questioning look.
"Uhm...could you please let go of me? Because uh..." He glanced around, then lowered
his voice. "...People are starting to stare," he told her meaningfully.
"Really?" Jeanne gazed around. "Why?" She wondered blankly...then, blushed even
more as she remembered: She had grabbed him earlier...and right now, her hands
were still..."Oh. OH! I'm sorry," She stammered. "I mean, I..." She wondered if
she would ever stop blushing.
Lyserg laughed slightly. "It's fine, really," he took one of her hands and
pulled her down towards the table where he was sitting. It was right in the
middle, one of the tables nearest to the pathway exit, which explains how she
had managed to bump into him. "Sit down," he instructed, offering the chair
right across from his.
"Sit down?" Jeanne echoed, looking back and forth in between the chair and
Lyserg, unsure of what she supposed to do. Her mind was still trying to process
everything that was happening. A while ago, she was buying coffee. She was
offered a bag of pastries. She was walking out of the Bistro, thinking the whole
time. And, just when her thoughts had made a sudden turn towards Lyserg...like
some sort of weird coincidence, she bumped into him.
Or...was it more like...an answered prayer...?
"Jeanne," Lyserg voice broke into her reverie. "Go on and sit," he gave her a
semi-pleading look. "...please?" He was still standing up himself, holding the
chair for her, waiting for her, like the gentleman that he was.
"Oh. O...okay," She gingerly sat down on the offered chair, looking up at him
and smiling gratefully. She watched him walk around the small table for two and
settle himself on the other chair. "Lyserg..."
He smiled. "Yes?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Me?" He shrugged. "Having breakfast." He answered matter-of-factly. "Speaking
of that..." He frowned ruefully at her empty take-out cup. "I'm sorry about your
coffee. I should get you another one. Signor!" He raised his hand to a
waiter that was passing by.
The man rushed over and smiled. "Si?"
"Large espresso, no sugar and cream," Lyserg told the waiter in Italian. He gave
Jeanne a questioning look. "That's your usual, right?"
"Y...yes." She nodded hesitantly, her heart oddly warmed at his extremely fine
memory for the things she liked. "But Lyserg..."
"A plate of those chocolate-cherry biscotti as well, if you please," He told the
waiter once more. "...And can I get a refill of the tea?" He tapped the small,
porcelain pot in the middle of the table.
"Si." The waiter nodded.
"Good. That's all. Thank you." Lyserg smiled as the waiter gave a small bow and
walked off to get their orders. Then, he turned back to Jeanne. "What were you
saying?"
She frowned at him. "Never mind," she muttered. "...You're not going to allow me
to pay for my coffee, are you?"
"Nope." He grinned and shook his head. "Your breakfast is my treat. What's
that?" He inclined his head at the paper bag.
"Pastries." Jeanne answered. As if to prove her point, she tore open the bag to
reveal about six pieces of mini fruit tartlets. "The manager gave them to me."
"For free?" Lyserg raised an eyebrow. "I'm getting mighty suspicious of
all those people who give free food around this country..."
"Don't be." She admonished. "I mean, maybe it's just some sort of coincidence,
but...we've been getting that a lot. Me and Sister Sarah."
"What? You mean the free food?" He said incredulously. "And what, pray tell, is
the catch?"
"I don't know." She replied with a shrug. "Sister Sarah's been getting it a lot
more than I do, though. Even when we were still in Venice...and now, here." She
paused. "Speaking of which," She continued, "...what are you doing here
in Milan? I mean, how long have you been here?"
A sigh. "Three weeks."
"Three weeks? So you've been here ever since..."
"Ever since that time after I said goodbye to you in Venice," Lyserg finished,
smiling at the memory of her...and then, wincing as he remembered the way Marco
had looked when he spotted them right in the middle of...something. He groaned
mentally. He could still remember how painful Marco's hand had been when it
clamped on his arm.
...More importantly...he can still remember how Marco had interrupted
them right at that moment. He had been so close...so darn bloody CLOSE to
kissing Jeanne...
"So, what are you doing here?" Jeanne's voice interrupted his thoughts, which
was just as well. "I mean, I know it's not my business or anything but..."
"Work," He explained. "Right after I left you at the missionary house, something
new came up about our case. Caesar found a new lead while he was searching for
Luc. And when the three of us finally got together...well, let's just say the
new information told us that we should head off straight for Milan--here,
that is. So we
did." He paused as the waiter came back with their order. "...Grazie," he
said gratefully just as the man nodded and walked away, with his empty tray on
hand. "Anyway, we finally solved the case yesterday." He sighed, relaxing in his
seat. "Let me tell you, I am sure GLAD that our case is over. It's got to be one
of the hardest we've ever come across with," he shook his head, and then, leaned
against the table, studying her critically. "What about you? What are you
doing here?" He gave her a bright smile.
She smiled back, raising the cup of coffee to her lips. "The sisters and the
rest of us missionaries are taking a vacation. We've worked so hard for the past
couple of weeks, so...Directress Estella told us that we could tour around Italy
if we wanted," She paused, taking a long drink from her cup. "I've been here
with Sister Sarah since yesterday. We're supposed to come back at the end of
this week...so we still have five days."
"Where are the others?" Lyserg wanted to know. "I mean...where's...where's..."
"...Marco?" Jeanne supplied dryly. "He's probably back in London as of this
moment. He was reluctant to leave me here, but..." she shrugged, taking a small,
dainty bite from a strawberry tartlet. "I think it was an urgent order from
Directress Estella. Funny though, he's the only one who got the order." She
frowned. "I mean, if it was something about missionary activities or whatever,
then Sister Sarah and I should have gotten the order as well. But it's really
strange..." She popped the last of the tartlet into her mouth.
"Hmm..." The green-haired Englishman took a long drink of his tea, visibly
relieved that Marco wasn't around to scare him off away from Jeanne. He wondered
why he was still so afraid of Marco, anyway. He was a child no
more, and he was quite younger, stronger, and somewhat taller than the
blonde man...so why was he still so afraid?
Well, no sense worrying about that now. The important thing is--he's not
here. NOT HERE. Which means, I can spend several more days with Jeanne...without
the thought that Marco-san will be just around the corner, ready to skin me
alive if I tried anything...not that I ever would...
"So," Jeanne's voice broke his musings. "...where's Caesar?"
Lyserg chuckled. "He's just around the corner, I'm sure," he answered. "He told
me this morning that he was going Bistro-hopping in search for the best
chocolate cookies in Milan," he added dryly. "He said he'll be taking home about
a dozen for me and Luc." He shook his head. "He should really meet Horo-horo-kun
sometime..." He paused to take another drink of his tea. "Anyway...what about
you? Where's Sister Sarah?"
"Funny you should ask," the silvery-blue haired maiden took a piece of biscotti
and dipped it into her coffee. Then, she took a small bite. "...I don't know
where she is. When I woke up this morning, she was already gone. She forgot to
leave me a note. It must have been urgent." She sighed. "Speaking of Sister
Sarah...where's Luc?"
"Oh--him," Lyserg frowned thoughtfully. "...Luc. He's...well, uh..."
*~*~*~*~*~*
A light-brown haired man in a dark green trench coat was leaning against the
wall beside the door of what looked like a small chapel. He was taking turns
glancing at his watch, then sighing, and then, gazing at something inside the
chapel through the door, which was slightly ajar.
Or, more correctly...at someone.
The door opened with a slight creak, and at once, the light-brown haired man
stood up straight in alert as a silvery-blonde haired woman wearing an
immaculate white dress got out, cradling a white purse in her left hand and with
a silver rosary wrapped around the other.
The woman spotted the man standing by the door, and she froze for about half a
second. Then, taking a deep breath, she pivoted and made a move to leave. But
before she could take even one step forward, a hand clamped on her wrist.
She gave an indrawn breath, her heart pounding frantically as she felt the rush
of electricity flowing back and forth from his body to hers, courtesy of that
little skin contact. "Please let go of me," she managed in a whisper.
"No, Sarah." The man said firmly, quietly. "...I won't let you go. Not until you
hear me out. Back in Venice, you never gave me a chance to explain--"
"There's nothing to explain, Luc," the woman, who was none other than
Sister Sarah, interrupted. "It was a mistake."
"Yes, it was. My mistake," Luc admitted. "Which is why I want to
apologize to you. I shouldn't have done what I did."
Sister Sarah turned around to face him, her wrist still entrapped in his hold.
"There is no need to apologize. That was...it was..." She shook her head, her
face flooding with color. She took a deep breath. "...something that never would
have happened if I hadn't been...willing..." she sighed, meeting his hazel-green
eyes with her bright blue ones. "You know that as well as I do."
"NO." Luc shook his head vigorously, his fingers sliding forward to clasp hers.
"It was my fault. Just mine, not yours." He gave a long, repenting
sigh. "...I could have stopped myself. It was just that...when I stood up from
the bed and you were right there, in front of me...and so close...I
just...couldn't help myself," he confessed. "You didn't do anything--"
"Exactly," She interrupted. "I didn't do anything. I just stood
there and allowed you to...to..." She shook her head helplessly. "I allowed you
to...kiss me, and I...I..." her voice trailed off, and the rest of the words she
hadn't been able to say echoed inside her head. I kissed you back.
"Sarah..." Luc's face softened, and he made a move to touch her face...
"NO." She turned her head away and closed her eyes, allowing a lone tear to fall
down her cheek. "Luc, this is...this is all wrong. You made a mistake. I made a
mistake. We both made a mistake. That kiss...was a mistake."
"It was," Luc nodded in agreement. "But Sarah, I...I can't...I'm sorry," he
raked his hand against his hair with frustration. "It's just that...I've never
felt this way...about anyone...in my entire life..." He held her hand even
tighter against his.
"I..." Sister Sarah took a deep breath, her hand weakly surrendering, giving in
to his touch. "Luc...I know." I feel the same way. I feel the same way,
but... "It's just that...I'm a nun, Luc."
"Damn bloody hell, I KNOW that," He muttered, looking up at the sky and
viciously glaring at the Heavens. Why me? Why HER? Damn you!
"We should end this," She declared in a choked voice. "...We should end this
right now, before it's too late..." Before we fall even deeper.
"Sarah...no...we can't just..." He started to protest, but she squeezed his
hand, silencing him.
"It's inevitable." She whispered. Then, leaning towards him, she rose up on
tiptoes and brushed a soft, brief kiss against his cheek. "Goodbye, Luc."
Turning around, she untangled her hand from his and ran away, as fast as her
legs could carry her. Before he could see the tears that were starting to fall
down her cheeks.
Luc stared after her, his heart and mind arguing over whether he should run
after her, or allow her to leave. Allow her to walk away from him.
After a couple of minutes, his heart and mind agreed that he should not
run after her--not now. Not while she was feeling extremely confused--like he
was. He glanced down at the silver rosary which she had somehow managed to leave
with him. Her precious silver rosary. Her precious God.
He looked up at the sky and glared once more. Of all the bloody men that
existed, why did it have to be You? Why did You have to become my rival, my
competition...for her heart?
Most of all...why did You have to come first? Why? Why couldn't it have been
ME?!?
...Why?
Damn You. "If You think for one second that I'm giving up, You've got
another thing coming," He called out to the Heavens. "You HEAR ME? I've finally
found the chance to be happy...and if You THINK You can take that away from me
just because you had her first, You are SADLY mistaken." He tightened his hold
on the rosary...the only thing he had of HER. The only thing he had to remember
her by was something she used to pray to her beloved God.
I'll take what I can get. He placed the rosary inside his coat pocket,
near his heart. Then, looking up to the Heavens again, he called out, "I won't
give up."
Glaring one last time, he walked away from the chapel, to nowhere in particular.
Even if it's futile...I won't.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"So he disappeared immediately after your case ended?" Jeanne asked as she and
Lyserg walked, side-by-side, along Milan's Main Street. They had finished
breakfast about an hour ago, and were currently touring what was also known as
the main shopping district of the city--thanks to the silvery-blue haired
maiden's insistence.
"Uh-huh. But Caesar says he's just somewhere around here." Lyserg replied. For
his part, he wanted to browse along the antique and book shops. He wasn't very
much interested in clothes, or shoes, or accessories. But he just couldn't
resist her pleas...so he had grudgingly relented and allowed her to drag him
inside each and every clothes store, shoe store, and jewelry, perfume and
accessory store. Although she was Iron Maiden Jeanne, she was still a
woman, and, just like any other woman, she was very much in love with shopping.
Although, much to Lyserg's relief, missionary values, her being Holy Iron Maiden
Jeanne, and Sister Sarah's advices made sure that she didn't spend her money on
every other item in every stall, that didn't stop her from making a
couple of purchases. As of late, the green-haired Englishman was carrying around
six bags, all of them containing things that she either bought for herself, for
Sister Sarah, for him...and even for Marco.
"Ooh, Lyserg, look! Look at that!" Jeanne's cheerful voice brought him back to
reality. She was pointing at the window of a shop selling little girl's clothes,
shoes, and accessories. "Wow...those clothes are BEAUTIFUL...and look at those
SHOES...they're...WOW..." She murmured in awe. She pulled on his hand and nudged
his head towards the store window. "Take a look."
And he looked.
And he had to admit, the clothes were beautiful. They were lilac-pink, with
exquisite patterns hand-embroidered all over. The matching shoes were of the
same quality, and color. Handmade as well. Any young girl who would wear these
things would definitely end up looking and feeling like a princess.
And yes, he can definitely envision those clothes being worn by a certain little
girl he knew. A little girl by the name of...
"Keiko-chan." He and Jeanne proclaimed in unison.
"I wonder if they have it in her size..." Jeanne murmured wistfully as she
continued to stare at the store window.
"We can check it out, if you want," he suggested.
Her eyes brightened. "Can we? Good!" She clapped her hands together, then
grabbed his wrist. "...Let's go!"
Lyserg sighed with resignation as he allowed her to pull him towards the shop,
wondering at the back of his mind what he had gotten himself into.
*~*~*~*~*~*
More than five days later
London
A dark green car pulled over in front of a tall, churchlike building. Moments
later, the door on the driver's side opened, and a tall figure with green hair
and wearing a green overcoat stepped out. The tall, green-haired figure, who was
none other than Lyserg Diethyl, rushed towards the other side and subsequently
opened both the front passenger door and the back one.
"Thank you." Iron Maiden Jeanne took Lyserg's offered hand and stepped out of
the car. She peered at the back seat, noticing that the silvery-blonde haired
nun had not moved an inch and was still looking out the window, with an
extremely sad expression on her face. "...Sister Sarah? We're here."
"What?" Sister Sarah turned her head to gaze at Jeanne. "We are?" She asked
blankly as she looked around. "Where are we?"
"We're in front of Westminster, Sister," Lyserg supplied helpfully, exchanging a
brief, knowing look with Jeanne. "Remember? We just came from the airport, and I
offered to drive you and Jeanne here," he added. Then, lowering his voice, he
told Jeanne, "I'll just lug out your suitcases."
Sister Sarah's eyes followed Lyserg's figure as he disappeared towards the back
compartment of the car. "...He drove us here?"
"Yes. He did." Jeanne answered with a nod. She reached over and squeezed the
nun's hand, giving her a sympathetic look.
When Jeanne had gotten back to the hotel that day when she bumped into Lyserg in
Milan, she had found the nun staring out at the balcony, with a confused and
extremely heart-wrenching expression on her face. Although she had tried
everything in her power to cheer the nun up, it had been futile, for the nun was
inconsolable. She stayed that way all throughout the remaining time they spent in
Milan, and even later on when they got back to Venice...as well as on that whole
plane ride back to London. Sister Sarah's sadness was very catching...and during
the plane trip, the rest of the missionaries and the nuns were all pretty quiet,
like her. For Jeanne's part...she would have ended up as sad as everyone
else...if not for the fact that Lyserg was with her on the plane, right beside
her, cheering her up.
Yes, that's right. Although he was supposed go back to London much earlier with
Luc and Caesar, Lyserg had bailed out on his two fellow detectives and told them
to go on home without him. He had done this so that he could be with her longer.
He had extended his stay in Italy for her sake.
For her sake...
Finally becoming aware of what was happening around her, Sister Sarah gave a
sigh. "I'm sorry I wasn't such a good company to both of you..." Her voice
trailed off. She tossed her hair gracefully, and remained sitting on the
backseat of the car, her hands folded in her lap.
"It's nothing," Jeanne assured her with a smile. "We can't force you to be happy
if you really don't feel like it." She paused. "...Anyway, at least we're home
now." She added brightly. "Sister, you stay here. I'll just help Lyserg out with
our suitcases." Then, she disappeared behind the compartment where the
green-haired Englishman was lugging out their baggage.
Lyserg smiled as he handed her a medium-sized box. "Keiko-chan's clothes and
accessories," he announced.
"Thanks." Jeanne took the package gratefully and set it down. "Where's the box
of glass figurines we bought in Venice?"
He gave her a look. "I had them delivered, remember? They'll get here tomorrow."
"Oh, yeah." She cocked her head. "I must have forgotten. I got worried about
Sister Sarah..."
"It's alright." He loaded out the last suitcase. "I'll take the glassware, you
take Keiko-chan's gift. We can have them delivered to Funbarigaoka before the
reunion."
"Okay." Jeanne nodded. "Thanks. I'll do that...Sister Sarah?" She gazed in
surprise as the nun, who had finally gotten out of the car, gave her a faint
smile and picked up her suitcase.
"Lyserg, thank you." Sister Sarah said gratefully as held up belongings. "I'll
head inside now." She started to walk towards the door of their missionary
house...when abruptly, she stopped, dropped her suitcase on the ground, and
rushed hastily inside the building.
"Sister Sarah, what...?" Jeanne stared in confusion at the nun's fallen
belongings, and then, at the direction where she disappeared. "What in the world
is going on?" She wondered out loud.
"Why?" Lyserg walked a step beside her, carrying her packages. He looked around.
"Where's Sister Sarah?"
"She ran inside the missionary house," Jeanne inclined her head towards the
door. "But she left all her things here." She frowned. "It's strange. She was holding them
all, and then she suddenly dropped them right in the middle of...wait a second,
was that LUC?" She stared in disbelief as a familiar-looking figure in a dark
green trench coat rushed inside the missionary house. "What is he doing
here?"
"...Running after her," A familiar male voice cheerfully replied.
"CAESAR?!?" Lyserg exclaimed with surprise. "What are you doing here?"
The redhead shrugged. "Helping him out," he answered breezily, clearly referring
to Luc. "I knew you were gonna get here today, and he wormed it out of me." He
rolled his eyes. "He knew Sister Sarah was with you...and he's determined,"
he added meaningfully. He walked towards the nun's things and started picking
them up. "I'll bring these to her. I have to follow Luc, anyway. Need to make
sure he wouldn't do anything rash...such as destroy all the statues of God and
the saints inside your missionary house." He told them with a grin. "...Anyway,
I'll leave you off to say your goodbyes to each other. Lyserg, don't do anything
I wouldn't do, hear?" And with a final, conspiratorial wink, he took off towards
the missionary house, carrying Sister Sarah's belongings.
Lyserg and Jeanne stared after Caesar, disbelief written in both of their faces.
Then, Lyserg sighed. "Didn't think he'd actually go this far." He
commented as the two of them walked towards the doorstep of the missionary
house. "I feel for him, but..."
"She's a nun," Jeanne supplied, frowning thoughtfully. "And well...although
Sister Sarah may have certain...feelings for him, I don't think she'd ever give
up being a nun."
"I still wish him all the luck, though," Lyserg commented as he carefully placed
her baggage at the doorstep of the building. "...So. Here we are." He announced,
smiling at her. "I'd accompany you inside, but...you know..." He gestured
helplessly at the door.
Jeanne sighed sadly. "I know. Marco...right." She looked up at him. "This is
goodbye again, isn't it?"
"Yes it is, unfortunately." He raised his hand and patted her cheek. Then, he
leaned over and gave her a brief kiss. She felt his breath on her skin for an
unforgettable moment...but he pulled away abruptly, almost as if he knew he was
doing something forbidden. "I'll see you again. But for now...goodbye." He
muttered as he turned around and started to walk away.
Before he could take a step further, Jeanne pulled on his wrist.
"Lyserg...wait."
He froze in mid-tracks. "Jeanne, what...?" When he turned his head to face her,
his eyes widened as a soft kiss fell on his lips. It was short and very brief,
that he hardly felt it.
...Did it even actually happen?
Had she really kissed him?
"Goodbye." Jeanne pulled away and turned around before he could see her face.
She was blushing profusely. She had only intended to give him a kiss on the
cheek...but he had to turn around. He just had to turn around...
But this doesn't count as her first kiss. Nope, this definitely doesn't
count as her first kiss. Definitely not.
It was entirely too short. She didn't even have time to feel anything...or
contemplate anything...
"I'll see you." She whispered one final time as she opened the door to the
missionary house and rushed inside without looking back at him.
Lyserg stared after her, his mind still processing what just happened. His brows
furrowed in bewilderment, and he raised his hand subconsciously, touching his
fingers to his lips.
Then, realizing he was acting like a lovesick teenager, he shook his head and
walked back towards his car. He hopped into the driver's seat and drove towards
the agency, wondering if he was going to be able to get any work done today.
TSUZUKU.
End notes:
(Um...this sounds a little more like a cliffhanger than the previous chapter,
doesn't it?)
Epilogue coming up next!^_^
If you guys still remember, right after bumping into each other in Venice,
falling over the Grand Canal, and then parting (in Venice), Lyserg and Jeanne
saw each other again in Milan sometime after. This was mentioned somewhere in
Celebrations [Chapter 7: The Celebrations Continue]. So uh...the very, very,
very long time Lyserg was referring to in the previous chapter was
actually...just 3 weeks.^^ Although he never expected that he'd actually see her
again so soon, did he? Neither did Jeanne, for that matter.^_^
Chapter title symbolizes Lyserg with reference to the other two tarot cards
based on the reading Tamao did for Jeanne in Celebrations [Chapter 4: The
Preparations Begin]. Strength means courage, self-control, the virtue
of Fortitude, the power of love, control of passion against one's baser
instincts, determination, generosity, strength and power under control, energy,
resolve, and reconciliation. The Star means fresh hope and
renewal, healing of old wounds, hope, renewal of faith and hope, spiritual love,
a mental and physical broadening of horizons, promise and fulfillment,
inspiration, vigor, confidence, and protection.
And uhm...I'm Catholic, so if you are...please excuse me for exploring around
the subject of a nun falling in love with a detective. And please excuse Luc for
cursing God. He's just upset.^^;;;
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please do let me know. Drop me a review, onegai?^_^