Here we go! Now, I'm sorry it took me so long to review this story! It's
just reviews slowed to a trickle and blah blah blah, just review this time!
Thanks to those of you who DID review!
Heaven Star: *falls over anime style* You don't know what Schuldig is talking about?! Well, remember what we've talking about now? Do you recall why Nagi and Shuldig haven't been on speaking terms? REMEMBER? Schuldig's short-lived job in Germany? *taps foot impatiently* lol Well, hey, at least for you this was a surprise!
NightmareGoat: Thank you for your review! Although I did take a while to update... Sorry for that! Review this chapter too! Hehe ^_^
Misura: I couldn't help myself! I'M SORRY! *hands out tissues* I didn't mean to make anyone cry... Well, maybe Yohji, but not a reviewer! I like vulnerable Schu - I can't help it! When you think about all the crap he must go through, I mean, you just gotta feel a little pity for him!
Lady Shadow-san: Don't go getting ideas now! lol There won't be any of that in this story. Hehehe... Oh, and I never e-mailed you back about the pic. Um, would any of your friends have a scanner you can use, perhaps...?
greenbug67: Thanks for reviewing! Keep it up!
~~~~~
Bonnie struggled with her reply, stammering, "I - I didn't w-want to eavesdrop! It was a complete and total accident!"
Schuldig turned away from her, rubbing his throbbing temples. He stared with angry blue eyes at the rows of empty pots and the bags of rich potting soil, trying not to lose his temper or his dignity. Now this girl, this girl who had never been through any sort of trauma in her life, knew his secret, the only one he was scared not to keep. Of all the people he knew, Bonnie was sure to take this the worst.
But she didn't.
Instead, he felt a reluctant hand on his shoulder, and a trembling voice said, "I'm really, REALLY sorry... Please don't get mad at me. Don't hate me..."
He turned back to her face her, slow and unsure of his own movements. He wanted to lash out and strike her - how dare she know this thing! This evil, dirty, shameful thing he had done to himself, or rather, let people do to him. "I suppose," he mused quietly, "you wouldn't mind telling me to what extent you heard us talking?"
She bit her lip, but answered honestly, "I was standing on the other side of the hall - I was going to ask Brad for something for my headache, but when I realized you were talking, I didn't want to interrupt. I heard him say something to you about how you and Nagi weren't speaking. I - I didn't think that sounded too harmful to listen to. But when you said...when you started talking about how upset you were with him for telling Nagi that you had been..." She cleared her throat politely. "That you'd been selling yourself... Well, I didn't want you to know I knew because I knew it would make you embarrassed, or at least upset!"
Schuldig stared at the girl before him gravely, brows drawn together in intense concentration. What to do now? In his past, he would've killed her - or just messed with her mind until she didn't know up from down. But not anymore. He couldn't do that now. For many reasons, including that this was his new life, one to be normal and a part of society. So, at a loss for words, he laughed cruelly and mocked her, saying, "What did you expect, Bonbon? Purity from the guilty one?"
She lowered her head, murmuring another apology.
Ah, well, he thought, rubbing the back of his head, Bonnie would be easily silenced anyhow. It was no big problem. Yet, somehow, it was. Mainly because just the fact that she knew was enough to make him feel even worse than before. It was bad enough that Brad had actually found him in such a condition, but it was even more terrible that this girl, this pastor's daughter, the one who had always smiled nervously at him, understood the depth of his guilt. Nagi was one thing - Nagi at least had been through terrible times with him. Bonnie was quite another story.
When she looked back at him, seeing his face had softened, she carried a strange expression upon her fine features, as if she wanted to hug him, which he desperately hoped she wouldn't, and wished to make him feel more accepted. "Umm," she started slowly, "are you mad at me?"
"I don't know. Yes. Yes I am."
"I guess I'd be mad too." She paused. "You probably don't care about what I have to say, but I think you shouldn't feel bad because lots of people make mistakes."
He remained silent.
"And it's not like I think of you any differently now..." She tilted her head slowly to the side. "You're just so...so you. Nothing can break you. That's what Nagi said about you once. And...you'll never be any different to me. All that was in the past anyway! It doesn't matter anymore because you don't do it anymore!" She reached out as if to touch him, but he shrugged away. "Oh, ok...well, now that I've said all that, I guess I should get back to the cash register..."
"Wait."
"Huh?"
His voice faltered. "Any questions?"
"What?"
"I said, 'any questions?' I know there is something you want to ask... Don't feel bad - Brad was wondering the same thing even. Curiosity killed the cat." He smirked bitterly, scanning her thoughts rapidly and seeing she was wondering what just about everyone else had. 'Schuldig sold himself? Wait...to who? He's so into women...could it be he took customers of both genders...?'
Bonnie blushed fiercely, wondering how she had been caught red-handed. Schuldig always knew what she was thinking, much to her chagrin, and he always made sure to bring it to her attention. "Well, I shouldn't - I mean, it's not my business...
"Straight," he vowed, raising his hand with a grimace. "Done some not-so- straight things. Now I'm just sort of messed up... Not too interested at the moment. Had enough to last a life time."
"Oh..."
"Hey, listen, just in case you were wondering..." He paused, frowning at her gravely. "I won't let it slide so easily next time if you make a habit of listening in on my conversations."
She laughed a little. "I understand, Schuldig."
~~~~~
Bonnie had opened the door and found a patient, placid-looking Farfarello standing on the stoop, wearing a pair of loose, black jeans and a matching wife beater, his eye only landing on her briefly before he stepped past and came inside without being invited. She had moved aside in shock when her father had opened his study door and beckoned to the Irishman, who calmly obeyed. And then, at a loss for actions, she had called for her mother.
Marianna wasn't quite aware of what was going on either. She sat with her daughter and chewed on her thumb nail nervously while trying to ease Bonnie's own anxiousness. She couldn't say she would pick Farfarello - on older, psychologically-scarred man - to date her child, but she had to admit, Bonnie was doing enough worrying for the two of them.
"What if he never fits in with society?" she fretted. "What if I get in over my head and it really hurts when he dumps me because I'm just too much of a goody-two-shoes little girl for him? Ooh, what if we're constantly fighting because we can't understand the other's past? What if he never becomes a Christian? I can't marry him then! Does he even BELIEVE in marriage? Argh! Oh no! I just thought of something, mama! What if - "
"Shh," Marianna hushed her gently, pulling her closer to her as they sat on the couch. "It's gonna be ok. Don't worry. If you have fought hard enough to get him this far, and if you like him enough to bring him home like this, you should just see how this all plays out for the time being. You're so young - you have time to figure all this out. Besides, I have a feeling your dad is finding all this out right now."
"Oh," Bonnie sighed, "that's not all... I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I do and I can't help it! I'm worried about what people at church will think of him...and his, well, you know how he looks..."
Marianna thought of the young man's scars and eye patch and long, lean body that displayed years of self-mutilation. "It's not the outside package that counts," she said quietly. "You know that, and the people at church will realize it with time to come. Some people are just a little wary, but they'll warm up. They're good people."
"Mama, what do YOU think of him?"
She thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Farfarello is a very brave young man to march up to your father like this. If he's going to all this trouble for you, he's worth a look. I know I can't judge him - I'm trying not to. But, baby, just be careful, ok? If the relationship starts to take a turn for the worse, get out. Understand?"
"Yes, mama."
They waited about another half hour, not really talking, thinking their separate thoughts, and then the door to her father's office opened, releasing a stony-faced Farfarello. He glanced at Bonnie and her mother, nodded in acknowledgment, and let himself out.
Bonnie leapt over the back of her chair in nervous excitement, bawling her father's name as she galloped into his office. Breathless by the time she got there, she could only wheeze, "Papa, what happened?!"
Bonnie's father, a handsome American man, looked very calm, very relaxed. He motioned for her to have a seat. "I laid out some ground rules for Farfarello. He agreed to them all," he said in perfect English.
"What were they?"
"Basically, I told him that you would not be having sex with him, or anyone else until you are married. After all, he is older - no telling what he expected you to do with him physically."
Bonnie groaned and sunk down low in her chair, cheeks flaming a bright red. She could almost hear Yohji laughing at her, mocking her, teasing, "Little Bonbon, don't worry - most men like a girl who saves herself for them!"
Her father smiled at her, almost smug. "He took it rather well."
"What else did you tell him?" she asked weakly, feeling a bit lightheaded with embarrassment. She wasn't sure if she even wanted the rest of the painful details.
"I then told him that you two would be only allowed to group date and only to hold hands. No making out. And he would be allowed to drive you places, but not after dark unless given special permission. I mentioned that he must start coming to church, and he promised to. However, he says he has 'problems' with attending church, so we made some arrangements in order to work him up to it. Therapy, the works. He seemed rather disgusted, but agreed with it. Oh.what else did I tell him? Ah, yes, I said that I didn't like him."
"Daaad!" she cried. "Did you really say all that to him?!"
"I had to." He cleared his throat, eyes gleaming laughingly.
Bonnie covered her face and silently pleaded with God to let the floor swallow her up. This was ultra-embarrassing, she decided. Things couldn't get any more uncomfortable.
"Bonnie!" Marianna called. "Phone for you!"
"Who is it?" she called back, still feeling a little shaky.
When Marianna responded, she sounded concerned. "It's Megan's mother!"
And time stopped. Megan's mother? What did they have to say to her? They'd never paid attention to her before, and even after the girl's death, they'd ignored her. Slowly, feeling like she was moving through water, she rose from the chair and walked out to the kitchen, gulping down a lump in her throat when her mother handed her the phone.
"Hello...?"
~~~~~
"Bonnie, thank you so much for coming. Megan spoke of you often. Who is this...?"
Bonnie, dressed very plainly in a full-length black dress and with her hair pulled back into a bun, stood, quaking, opposite Megan's mother, a woman she had never met before in her life. Farfarello stood behind her, a looming, silent shadow, protective and dark in his less formal clothing, baggy, black pants and a T-shirt of the same color. Now, realizing Megan's mother was asking of him, Bonnie motioned over her shoulder and said softly, "This is Farfarello. He was also a friend of Megan's. I don't know if you - "
"No, I remember him now," cut in the woman sharply, her eyes narrowing. She was American, and all business from the looks of it, dressed in her navy, knee-length skirt and white blouse, a matching blazer buttoned up over top. Her hair, a bleached blonde, met her shoulders in lazy waves, and even now, at her daughter's funeral, she didn't show a trace of sadness, not even a tear or sniffle.
Farfarello stiffened a little at her glare, most likely controlling himself from shooting one back.
"So," she asked, eyes glancing up and down him, "you're the one who got her pregnant?"
Farfarello snarled, but quickly stopped himself from speaking. He had told Bonnie beforehand he would leave that up to her.
"No," Bonnie said, a bit offended herself. "It wasn't him. We don't know who that was."
"Oh."
There was a slight pause, broken by Bonnie asking, "Why are you having a funeral now? With just us?"
Megan's mother shrugged, an offhanded gesture as she let her gaze travel around the cemetery, at the grassy acres full of polished marble headstones and bouquets of flowers. Megan had been buried already without a service of any sort. Her parents had not wanted one.
"I don't know," her mother said dully. "I'm ashamed of her. But she deserves something. Even if you stand at her grave with me, it's enough." She hesitated. "Because you...you didn't turn her away when she was dying...like I did."
"She wasn't dying when you turned her away," said Bonnie weakly, trying to console her and knowing she had said the wrong thing instantly. When the woman didn't reply, she turned and faced the grave marker, simple and smaller than the others, that held Megan's name and the two dates that had begun and ended her life. Awkwardly, she commented, "Megan would be happy it's so pretty here. And you brought her favorite flowers."
"Oh? Were they her favorite?" The woman gazed dispassionately at the white lilies. "Figures."
Bonnie decided not to ask. She just stood there in her heavy black dress, staring blankly at the grave, wondering at how she felt sick to her stomach now because surely Megan had never been loved. Megan with her wavy brown hair and her freckles and smile and the cute way she wrinkled up her nose when she laughed. The look she got when she felt lonely, because the class excluded her, the way she tried to brighten when Bonnie was around and how she had a habit of calling on the phone to vent her frustrations.
Bonnie had realized beforethat she would never EVER see Megan with her sad smile again, but now the reality of it all struck her harshly. Who was she going to call now when life got her down? Who could understand her? Her parents were great, and so were the guys at the flower shop, but she needed a girl her age, and someone who sympathized and at least tried to relate.
Suddenly, her heart was crying, mourning like she had not allowed it to yet. Tears sprung to her eyes and she felt her stomach twist into knots. Oh, Megan was gone - she would never see her again. Bonnie didn't even believe she had gone to heaven. She had shunned the belief of God, and now, she was lost forever...
Megan's mother left them shortly, thanking her in a curt voice and asking her if she would mind coming over to clean out Megan's room. She could keep what she wanted - they had no use for it.
Bonnie agreed in a choked voice.
And it was then, after Megan's mother had left, that she remembered Farfarello was also present. He'd been so quiet that she'd all but forgotten, and now, with his presence screaming for attention, she found she could not look at him.
Because life was terrible. And now, she found herself hating it. Truly, honestly, deeply hating it.
Slowly, pale arms slipped past her shoulders and locked over her chest, bringing her back gently to a firm chest. Farfarello's head bowed, the bristly white hair scraping her cheek, and she heard him murmur something, though she didn't understand it.
"Farfarello," she said quietly, leaning back against him, her hands coming up to grip at his wrists a bit uncomfortably. "I really miss her."
"Aye."
"We should probably go now."
"If ye want ta." And he released her, let her step away. The sunlight was making his complexion look even more white than usual, and his scars were standing out dark and fierce against his skin, attracting stares from all the strangers milling throughout the graveyard.
Bonnie hated how people stared at him. It was so rude. They should just leave him alone! "Come on," she urged anxiously, hurrying to escape the looks they were getting. He moved ahead of her quickly and beat her to the car, having started it up before she even opened the door to the passenger side.
As they drove, she decided it would be a good time to see how he had taken her father's lecturing.
"Farfarello, when you talked to my dad the other day..."
"I dinna plan on forcin' ye inta bed wit' me." Farfarello's voice held a trace of amusement as his single eye glanced over at her, which of course, made her insanely nervous. Not only was his look unnerving, but she didn't like the thought of his impaired vision leaving the road even a second.
"Well, I didn't say I thought that!" she cried. "I mean, my dad is just really protective! And, I mean, it's not like I ever thought you'd try, though I wasn't so sure, and sometimes I get really nervous because you're a lot older and stuff! Oh my, now I'm babbling and I'm talking really fast - I know I sound like an idiot, but what other stupid stuff did he tell you?! Ahh...my face must be all red by now!"
"Aye. It is." He paused. "Don' worry, Bonbon. I'm a virgin too." He chuckled. "Come on - what did ye expect? They kept me locked up so much of the time..."
"They?"
"Crawford, Schuldig, Na-" He stopped abruptly, biting his lip and realizing he had said the wrong thing. Bonnie did not know that the three other members of Schwartz had been assassins as well, and Brad had told everyone that he preferred to keep it that way. "Never mind," he said in a low voice.
"But - "
"I said, 'NEVER MIND.' Ok?"
She pushed her back against the car seat, folding her arms tightly in discomfort. "I...ok." She paused. "So, when DID you get your license? I mean, last time I checked, they didn't hand them out to insane people, and you haven't been clinically sane long enough to actually get one."
"License?"
"Driver's license?"
"I dinna. Schuldig taught me to drive, and I never took a test or anything. He told me I dinna need ta as long as I dinna get pulled over."
"WHAT?!"
~~~~~
"Farf has spent the whole day with Bonnie," mused Nagi, who was still in shock over the recent development in the pastor's daughter and psychopath's relationship. "Since when could he spend so much time outside his room without throwing a fit?"
Omi smiled and shrugged. It was already dark outside and he was still hard at work on the books for the flower shop. Aya-chan had not been feeling well lately and her brother had asked him to do it while he dealt with the girl and her illness. Nagi had been holding a one-sided conversation with him as well for about an hour now, and he could only nod politely and pretend that he was listening while the younger man ranted about the absurdity of it all.
Ken had joined them, for the company, he said, but Omi believed it was because he had not gone grocery shopping for the last two weeks and needed a free meal. Currently, the soccer player was sitting at the kitchen counter and polishing off the last of his sandwich.
"Crawford says that he is worried Farfarello will do something to Bonnie because he only acts on his emotions and usually doesn't think about consequences, so is this really a good idea? Shouldn't we be spying on them or something?"
"I'm going back to my room. I told Mikazuki I'd call her." Ken hopped off the stool he'd been perched on and ambled out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.
Nagi waited until Ken was out of the room to switch the subject from Bonnie and Farfarello to Ken and his new girlfriend. "Isn't it weird they both coach kids' soccer? Imagine if they had their own children. They'd be amazing athletes whether they wanted to or not."
Omi listened to the debate over Ken's future offspring without saying a word until there was a knock on the door and he stood to answer it, finding Farfarello's form darkening his doorway. The Irishman wore no expression, which Omi had found was quite normal for him - or at least lately. "Oh, hello! Do you need something?"
"Bonnie says she will be half an hour late fer work tomorrow," he related the message dully, and then, curiously, he peeked over Omi's shoulder to look at Nagi, who was still muttering to himself. "Eh, is Naggles doin' it again? Botherin' ye?"
"Oh, it's not bothering me," Omi assured him with a smile.
Farfarello gave a crooked grin of his own. "Sure. Night."
"Good night." Omi closed the door.
Farfarello squinted through the dark as he made his way down the hall. They'd already turned the lights off in the building, for some reason. Usually they were still on - after all, it wasn't that late. When he came to his own door, he went to unlock it, but found that at his touch it easily swung halfway open, revealing an unlit apartment.
He smelled the blood before he saw it.
"Ken?" he growled, sliding his hand into his pocket and grabbing a small knife, one that he kept in a leather sheath, tucked away from the others' knowledge. He advanced stealthily past the doorway, calling upon his buried but certainly not discarded assassin instincts to guide him through the danger.
If there was any. He wasn't sure.
He stepped into the bedroom, saw the window was open and moonlight had filtered in, casting a silver glow upon the figure that lay crumpled on the floor, beside his bed. The portable phone was still clutched in his hand, the dial tone dead and steady, loud in the silence. Blood was slowly creating a small puddle beneath his lifeless form.
"Ken!" Farfarello knelt swiftly down, gently touched his roommate on the shoulder, breathed his name harshly. He looked to the window, wondering who had done the deed and if they were still around, and then, loudly, he yelled for Crawford.
~~~~~~
Review! The reason it took me so long to write this is because I felt like no one was reading anyhow. *pouts*
Thanks to those of you who DID review!
Heaven Star: *falls over anime style* You don't know what Schuldig is talking about?! Well, remember what we've talking about now? Do you recall why Nagi and Shuldig haven't been on speaking terms? REMEMBER? Schuldig's short-lived job in Germany? *taps foot impatiently* lol Well, hey, at least for you this was a surprise!
NightmareGoat: Thank you for your review! Although I did take a while to update... Sorry for that! Review this chapter too! Hehe ^_^
Misura: I couldn't help myself! I'M SORRY! *hands out tissues* I didn't mean to make anyone cry... Well, maybe Yohji, but not a reviewer! I like vulnerable Schu - I can't help it! When you think about all the crap he must go through, I mean, you just gotta feel a little pity for him!
Lady Shadow-san: Don't go getting ideas now! lol There won't be any of that in this story. Hehehe... Oh, and I never e-mailed you back about the pic. Um, would any of your friends have a scanner you can use, perhaps...?
greenbug67: Thanks for reviewing! Keep it up!
~~~~~
Bonnie struggled with her reply, stammering, "I - I didn't w-want to eavesdrop! It was a complete and total accident!"
Schuldig turned away from her, rubbing his throbbing temples. He stared with angry blue eyes at the rows of empty pots and the bags of rich potting soil, trying not to lose his temper or his dignity. Now this girl, this girl who had never been through any sort of trauma in her life, knew his secret, the only one he was scared not to keep. Of all the people he knew, Bonnie was sure to take this the worst.
But she didn't.
Instead, he felt a reluctant hand on his shoulder, and a trembling voice said, "I'm really, REALLY sorry... Please don't get mad at me. Don't hate me..."
He turned back to her face her, slow and unsure of his own movements. He wanted to lash out and strike her - how dare she know this thing! This evil, dirty, shameful thing he had done to himself, or rather, let people do to him. "I suppose," he mused quietly, "you wouldn't mind telling me to what extent you heard us talking?"
She bit her lip, but answered honestly, "I was standing on the other side of the hall - I was going to ask Brad for something for my headache, but when I realized you were talking, I didn't want to interrupt. I heard him say something to you about how you and Nagi weren't speaking. I - I didn't think that sounded too harmful to listen to. But when you said...when you started talking about how upset you were with him for telling Nagi that you had been..." She cleared her throat politely. "That you'd been selling yourself... Well, I didn't want you to know I knew because I knew it would make you embarrassed, or at least upset!"
Schuldig stared at the girl before him gravely, brows drawn together in intense concentration. What to do now? In his past, he would've killed her - or just messed with her mind until she didn't know up from down. But not anymore. He couldn't do that now. For many reasons, including that this was his new life, one to be normal and a part of society. So, at a loss for words, he laughed cruelly and mocked her, saying, "What did you expect, Bonbon? Purity from the guilty one?"
She lowered her head, murmuring another apology.
Ah, well, he thought, rubbing the back of his head, Bonnie would be easily silenced anyhow. It was no big problem. Yet, somehow, it was. Mainly because just the fact that she knew was enough to make him feel even worse than before. It was bad enough that Brad had actually found him in such a condition, but it was even more terrible that this girl, this pastor's daughter, the one who had always smiled nervously at him, understood the depth of his guilt. Nagi was one thing - Nagi at least had been through terrible times with him. Bonnie was quite another story.
When she looked back at him, seeing his face had softened, she carried a strange expression upon her fine features, as if she wanted to hug him, which he desperately hoped she wouldn't, and wished to make him feel more accepted. "Umm," she started slowly, "are you mad at me?"
"I don't know. Yes. Yes I am."
"I guess I'd be mad too." She paused. "You probably don't care about what I have to say, but I think you shouldn't feel bad because lots of people make mistakes."
He remained silent.
"And it's not like I think of you any differently now..." She tilted her head slowly to the side. "You're just so...so you. Nothing can break you. That's what Nagi said about you once. And...you'll never be any different to me. All that was in the past anyway! It doesn't matter anymore because you don't do it anymore!" She reached out as if to touch him, but he shrugged away. "Oh, ok...well, now that I've said all that, I guess I should get back to the cash register..."
"Wait."
"Huh?"
His voice faltered. "Any questions?"
"What?"
"I said, 'any questions?' I know there is something you want to ask... Don't feel bad - Brad was wondering the same thing even. Curiosity killed the cat." He smirked bitterly, scanning her thoughts rapidly and seeing she was wondering what just about everyone else had. 'Schuldig sold himself? Wait...to who? He's so into women...could it be he took customers of both genders...?'
Bonnie blushed fiercely, wondering how she had been caught red-handed. Schuldig always knew what she was thinking, much to her chagrin, and he always made sure to bring it to her attention. "Well, I shouldn't - I mean, it's not my business...
"Straight," he vowed, raising his hand with a grimace. "Done some not-so- straight things. Now I'm just sort of messed up... Not too interested at the moment. Had enough to last a life time."
"Oh..."
"Hey, listen, just in case you were wondering..." He paused, frowning at her gravely. "I won't let it slide so easily next time if you make a habit of listening in on my conversations."
She laughed a little. "I understand, Schuldig."
~~~~~
Bonnie had opened the door and found a patient, placid-looking Farfarello standing on the stoop, wearing a pair of loose, black jeans and a matching wife beater, his eye only landing on her briefly before he stepped past and came inside without being invited. She had moved aside in shock when her father had opened his study door and beckoned to the Irishman, who calmly obeyed. And then, at a loss for actions, she had called for her mother.
Marianna wasn't quite aware of what was going on either. She sat with her daughter and chewed on her thumb nail nervously while trying to ease Bonnie's own anxiousness. She couldn't say she would pick Farfarello - on older, psychologically-scarred man - to date her child, but she had to admit, Bonnie was doing enough worrying for the two of them.
"What if he never fits in with society?" she fretted. "What if I get in over my head and it really hurts when he dumps me because I'm just too much of a goody-two-shoes little girl for him? Ooh, what if we're constantly fighting because we can't understand the other's past? What if he never becomes a Christian? I can't marry him then! Does he even BELIEVE in marriage? Argh! Oh no! I just thought of something, mama! What if - "
"Shh," Marianna hushed her gently, pulling her closer to her as they sat on the couch. "It's gonna be ok. Don't worry. If you have fought hard enough to get him this far, and if you like him enough to bring him home like this, you should just see how this all plays out for the time being. You're so young - you have time to figure all this out. Besides, I have a feeling your dad is finding all this out right now."
"Oh," Bonnie sighed, "that's not all... I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I do and I can't help it! I'm worried about what people at church will think of him...and his, well, you know how he looks..."
Marianna thought of the young man's scars and eye patch and long, lean body that displayed years of self-mutilation. "It's not the outside package that counts," she said quietly. "You know that, and the people at church will realize it with time to come. Some people are just a little wary, but they'll warm up. They're good people."
"Mama, what do YOU think of him?"
She thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Farfarello is a very brave young man to march up to your father like this. If he's going to all this trouble for you, he's worth a look. I know I can't judge him - I'm trying not to. But, baby, just be careful, ok? If the relationship starts to take a turn for the worse, get out. Understand?"
"Yes, mama."
They waited about another half hour, not really talking, thinking their separate thoughts, and then the door to her father's office opened, releasing a stony-faced Farfarello. He glanced at Bonnie and her mother, nodded in acknowledgment, and let himself out.
Bonnie leapt over the back of her chair in nervous excitement, bawling her father's name as she galloped into his office. Breathless by the time she got there, she could only wheeze, "Papa, what happened?!"
Bonnie's father, a handsome American man, looked very calm, very relaxed. He motioned for her to have a seat. "I laid out some ground rules for Farfarello. He agreed to them all," he said in perfect English.
"What were they?"
"Basically, I told him that you would not be having sex with him, or anyone else until you are married. After all, he is older - no telling what he expected you to do with him physically."
Bonnie groaned and sunk down low in her chair, cheeks flaming a bright red. She could almost hear Yohji laughing at her, mocking her, teasing, "Little Bonbon, don't worry - most men like a girl who saves herself for them!"
Her father smiled at her, almost smug. "He took it rather well."
"What else did you tell him?" she asked weakly, feeling a bit lightheaded with embarrassment. She wasn't sure if she even wanted the rest of the painful details.
"I then told him that you two would be only allowed to group date and only to hold hands. No making out. And he would be allowed to drive you places, but not after dark unless given special permission. I mentioned that he must start coming to church, and he promised to. However, he says he has 'problems' with attending church, so we made some arrangements in order to work him up to it. Therapy, the works. He seemed rather disgusted, but agreed with it. Oh.what else did I tell him? Ah, yes, I said that I didn't like him."
"Daaad!" she cried. "Did you really say all that to him?!"
"I had to." He cleared his throat, eyes gleaming laughingly.
Bonnie covered her face and silently pleaded with God to let the floor swallow her up. This was ultra-embarrassing, she decided. Things couldn't get any more uncomfortable.
"Bonnie!" Marianna called. "Phone for you!"
"Who is it?" she called back, still feeling a little shaky.
When Marianna responded, she sounded concerned. "It's Megan's mother!"
And time stopped. Megan's mother? What did they have to say to her? They'd never paid attention to her before, and even after the girl's death, they'd ignored her. Slowly, feeling like she was moving through water, she rose from the chair and walked out to the kitchen, gulping down a lump in her throat when her mother handed her the phone.
"Hello...?"
~~~~~
"Bonnie, thank you so much for coming. Megan spoke of you often. Who is this...?"
Bonnie, dressed very plainly in a full-length black dress and with her hair pulled back into a bun, stood, quaking, opposite Megan's mother, a woman she had never met before in her life. Farfarello stood behind her, a looming, silent shadow, protective and dark in his less formal clothing, baggy, black pants and a T-shirt of the same color. Now, realizing Megan's mother was asking of him, Bonnie motioned over her shoulder and said softly, "This is Farfarello. He was also a friend of Megan's. I don't know if you - "
"No, I remember him now," cut in the woman sharply, her eyes narrowing. She was American, and all business from the looks of it, dressed in her navy, knee-length skirt and white blouse, a matching blazer buttoned up over top. Her hair, a bleached blonde, met her shoulders in lazy waves, and even now, at her daughter's funeral, she didn't show a trace of sadness, not even a tear or sniffle.
Farfarello stiffened a little at her glare, most likely controlling himself from shooting one back.
"So," she asked, eyes glancing up and down him, "you're the one who got her pregnant?"
Farfarello snarled, but quickly stopped himself from speaking. He had told Bonnie beforehand he would leave that up to her.
"No," Bonnie said, a bit offended herself. "It wasn't him. We don't know who that was."
"Oh."
There was a slight pause, broken by Bonnie asking, "Why are you having a funeral now? With just us?"
Megan's mother shrugged, an offhanded gesture as she let her gaze travel around the cemetery, at the grassy acres full of polished marble headstones and bouquets of flowers. Megan had been buried already without a service of any sort. Her parents had not wanted one.
"I don't know," her mother said dully. "I'm ashamed of her. But she deserves something. Even if you stand at her grave with me, it's enough." She hesitated. "Because you...you didn't turn her away when she was dying...like I did."
"She wasn't dying when you turned her away," said Bonnie weakly, trying to console her and knowing she had said the wrong thing instantly. When the woman didn't reply, she turned and faced the grave marker, simple and smaller than the others, that held Megan's name and the two dates that had begun and ended her life. Awkwardly, she commented, "Megan would be happy it's so pretty here. And you brought her favorite flowers."
"Oh? Were they her favorite?" The woman gazed dispassionately at the white lilies. "Figures."
Bonnie decided not to ask. She just stood there in her heavy black dress, staring blankly at the grave, wondering at how she felt sick to her stomach now because surely Megan had never been loved. Megan with her wavy brown hair and her freckles and smile and the cute way she wrinkled up her nose when she laughed. The look she got when she felt lonely, because the class excluded her, the way she tried to brighten when Bonnie was around and how she had a habit of calling on the phone to vent her frustrations.
Bonnie had realized beforethat she would never EVER see Megan with her sad smile again, but now the reality of it all struck her harshly. Who was she going to call now when life got her down? Who could understand her? Her parents were great, and so were the guys at the flower shop, but she needed a girl her age, and someone who sympathized and at least tried to relate.
Suddenly, her heart was crying, mourning like she had not allowed it to yet. Tears sprung to her eyes and she felt her stomach twist into knots. Oh, Megan was gone - she would never see her again. Bonnie didn't even believe she had gone to heaven. She had shunned the belief of God, and now, she was lost forever...
Megan's mother left them shortly, thanking her in a curt voice and asking her if she would mind coming over to clean out Megan's room. She could keep what she wanted - they had no use for it.
Bonnie agreed in a choked voice.
And it was then, after Megan's mother had left, that she remembered Farfarello was also present. He'd been so quiet that she'd all but forgotten, and now, with his presence screaming for attention, she found she could not look at him.
Because life was terrible. And now, she found herself hating it. Truly, honestly, deeply hating it.
Slowly, pale arms slipped past her shoulders and locked over her chest, bringing her back gently to a firm chest. Farfarello's head bowed, the bristly white hair scraping her cheek, and she heard him murmur something, though she didn't understand it.
"Farfarello," she said quietly, leaning back against him, her hands coming up to grip at his wrists a bit uncomfortably. "I really miss her."
"Aye."
"We should probably go now."
"If ye want ta." And he released her, let her step away. The sunlight was making his complexion look even more white than usual, and his scars were standing out dark and fierce against his skin, attracting stares from all the strangers milling throughout the graveyard.
Bonnie hated how people stared at him. It was so rude. They should just leave him alone! "Come on," she urged anxiously, hurrying to escape the looks they were getting. He moved ahead of her quickly and beat her to the car, having started it up before she even opened the door to the passenger side.
As they drove, she decided it would be a good time to see how he had taken her father's lecturing.
"Farfarello, when you talked to my dad the other day..."
"I dinna plan on forcin' ye inta bed wit' me." Farfarello's voice held a trace of amusement as his single eye glanced over at her, which of course, made her insanely nervous. Not only was his look unnerving, but she didn't like the thought of his impaired vision leaving the road even a second.
"Well, I didn't say I thought that!" she cried. "I mean, my dad is just really protective! And, I mean, it's not like I ever thought you'd try, though I wasn't so sure, and sometimes I get really nervous because you're a lot older and stuff! Oh my, now I'm babbling and I'm talking really fast - I know I sound like an idiot, but what other stupid stuff did he tell you?! Ahh...my face must be all red by now!"
"Aye. It is." He paused. "Don' worry, Bonbon. I'm a virgin too." He chuckled. "Come on - what did ye expect? They kept me locked up so much of the time..."
"They?"
"Crawford, Schuldig, Na-" He stopped abruptly, biting his lip and realizing he had said the wrong thing. Bonnie did not know that the three other members of Schwartz had been assassins as well, and Brad had told everyone that he preferred to keep it that way. "Never mind," he said in a low voice.
"But - "
"I said, 'NEVER MIND.' Ok?"
She pushed her back against the car seat, folding her arms tightly in discomfort. "I...ok." She paused. "So, when DID you get your license? I mean, last time I checked, they didn't hand them out to insane people, and you haven't been clinically sane long enough to actually get one."
"License?"
"Driver's license?"
"I dinna. Schuldig taught me to drive, and I never took a test or anything. He told me I dinna need ta as long as I dinna get pulled over."
"WHAT?!"
~~~~~
"Farf has spent the whole day with Bonnie," mused Nagi, who was still in shock over the recent development in the pastor's daughter and psychopath's relationship. "Since when could he spend so much time outside his room without throwing a fit?"
Omi smiled and shrugged. It was already dark outside and he was still hard at work on the books for the flower shop. Aya-chan had not been feeling well lately and her brother had asked him to do it while he dealt with the girl and her illness. Nagi had been holding a one-sided conversation with him as well for about an hour now, and he could only nod politely and pretend that he was listening while the younger man ranted about the absurdity of it all.
Ken had joined them, for the company, he said, but Omi believed it was because he had not gone grocery shopping for the last two weeks and needed a free meal. Currently, the soccer player was sitting at the kitchen counter and polishing off the last of his sandwich.
"Crawford says that he is worried Farfarello will do something to Bonnie because he only acts on his emotions and usually doesn't think about consequences, so is this really a good idea? Shouldn't we be spying on them or something?"
"I'm going back to my room. I told Mikazuki I'd call her." Ken hopped off the stool he'd been perched on and ambled out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.
Nagi waited until Ken was out of the room to switch the subject from Bonnie and Farfarello to Ken and his new girlfriend. "Isn't it weird they both coach kids' soccer? Imagine if they had their own children. They'd be amazing athletes whether they wanted to or not."
Omi listened to the debate over Ken's future offspring without saying a word until there was a knock on the door and he stood to answer it, finding Farfarello's form darkening his doorway. The Irishman wore no expression, which Omi had found was quite normal for him - or at least lately. "Oh, hello! Do you need something?"
"Bonnie says she will be half an hour late fer work tomorrow," he related the message dully, and then, curiously, he peeked over Omi's shoulder to look at Nagi, who was still muttering to himself. "Eh, is Naggles doin' it again? Botherin' ye?"
"Oh, it's not bothering me," Omi assured him with a smile.
Farfarello gave a crooked grin of his own. "Sure. Night."
"Good night." Omi closed the door.
Farfarello squinted through the dark as he made his way down the hall. They'd already turned the lights off in the building, for some reason. Usually they were still on - after all, it wasn't that late. When he came to his own door, he went to unlock it, but found that at his touch it easily swung halfway open, revealing an unlit apartment.
He smelled the blood before he saw it.
"Ken?" he growled, sliding his hand into his pocket and grabbing a small knife, one that he kept in a leather sheath, tucked away from the others' knowledge. He advanced stealthily past the doorway, calling upon his buried but certainly not discarded assassin instincts to guide him through the danger.
If there was any. He wasn't sure.
He stepped into the bedroom, saw the window was open and moonlight had filtered in, casting a silver glow upon the figure that lay crumpled on the floor, beside his bed. The portable phone was still clutched in his hand, the dial tone dead and steady, loud in the silence. Blood was slowly creating a small puddle beneath his lifeless form.
"Ken!" Farfarello knelt swiftly down, gently touched his roommate on the shoulder, breathed his name harshly. He looked to the window, wondering who had done the deed and if they were still around, and then, loudly, he yelled for Crawford.
~~~~~~
Review! The reason it took me so long to write this is because I felt like no one was reading anyhow. *pouts*