The Contract–Chapter Three
The Lions
Ami
She was young again, perhaps seven or eight, and she was walking with her mother to the grocery store. The woman next to her was looking down at her with a thoughtful expression as she shared an experience from school. "I don't know why he's so grumpy all the time. I don't have a daddy either, and his comes back every three months to visit him. His dad's just out looking for a job, it's not like they're never going to see each other again. I think it's very spoiled of him to use that against people for pity, don't you?" She peered up at her companion, who was looking forward, her face unreadable. "Mommy?"
Her mother took a deep breath and let it out, then met her daughter's inquisitive gaze. She smiled the serene smile the little girl had become used to over the years; happy that her parent was normal again, Ami cheerfully took her hand, listening to the soft sound of her voice.
"Darling, I think you should be nicer to the poor boy. You don't know what it's like to miss someone–I've tried to shield you from the pain of loneliness as best I can. When your father died, I remember how it felt to wake up every morning, before I remembered he wasn't there, and thinking that he would be lying next to me, and I'd reach out for him, and then I'd remember and it was...very painful. I'm sure I was angry, then, too. I'm sure it hurts to be apart from anyone, whether or not their alive. Be kinder than to begrudge him rage, Ami."
Her eyes full of tears, little Ami embraced her mother, pained that the woman had been in pain. When she pulled away, the person she'd been clutching had become herself, an older Ami, that looked at her with sad eyes, and almost said something, something urgent, but then Ami, the real Ami, was awake, and instantly aware that she was not at home.
She had never dreamed when she was at home.
Sitting up, she looked around, taking in the room she had fallen asleep in, the events of the previous day coming back to her in force. She had found this room after discovering the lab and the man within it. Assuming that it was intended for her, it showed no signs of being lived in and the boxes she had sent containing her belongings were stacked neatly against the wall, she began unpacking. It had occupied her when she had desperately needed something to keep her busy, to avoid the silence of the empty house. She had worked until evening, when she had gone to bed on an empty stomach, not wanting to disturb his food without permission. Then, she hadn't been able to sleep, and the last thing she actually remembered was wondering if she would ever meet her husband.
Now that thought plagued her, as she slipped from her pajamas and into some of the clothes she had unpacked last night, jeans and a white button-up, castaways from Mina or Wren, she couldn't remember. The outfit was light, and casual, and happy, which she needed–the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of what had been lost. She managed to ignored it, and the emptiness inside her, pushing them both to the back of her mind, so that she might find escape.
She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, checking with her fingers for tangles, and after finding nothing amiss, she left her room heavy with resolve.
She would speak to him today. If it killed her, she would make him aware of her existence.
She did not pause, therefore, when she came to the empty livingroom, but let the burning sense of purpose drive her towards his bedroom door, let it wash away her mind and leave her a vessel of the need that drew her on. She did not hesitate to open his door, or to walk into his room when she had never invaded the privacy of anyone else in her life, even those she had been intimate with. She could not be ignored, could not face a day of that pressing silence again. It would drive her insane, perhaps already had, and it drove her to his window, to fling wide the curtains.
A sudden brightness filled the room, and by it she could see the figure wincing in the bed. Taking a deep, steadying breath and moving before her mind could catch up with her, she seized the initiative. In three steps she was by his side, and her hand was on his bare shoulder; she shook him and called to him, he responded with a low groan and fluttering eyelids, then growled out "God, not right now. Work can wait." He turned away from her, and she was suddenly angry.
"Oh, no it can't. Wake up right now," she replaced her hand on his shoulder, shaking him vehemently, "or I'll–"
In a sudden, fluid motion he rolled over and grabbed her wrist, at once yanking her into him and off balance, so leaned awkwardly over the bed. Their eyes met, and all the purpose washed out of her, replaced suddenly by sickening confusion, and she was very aware of his skin against hers and his eyes boring into her skull. He broke the sizzling visual contact, and she followed the path of his gaze as he took in every line of the situation, then returned to her face, and quirked one sarcastic eyebrow. "Or you'll what?"
Doubt overtook her like a storm she had been avoiding since waking–what would she have done if he hadn't woken up? What would she do now? Why had she walked into the proverbial jaws of a tiger? She desperately reached for the feeling of solitude, for the cemented need that had pushed her into the situation, but there was nothing. It was as if her clothes had been stripped away, and she was left naked to confront him.
She blushed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I just needed to speak to you, and," her voice trailed off, aware of how silly she must sound. Inwardly, she wished desperately he'd let go of her.
He was staring up at her with disbelief. "You don't know what came over you? Tell me, do you often walk into strange men's bedrooms on a whim?"
Now color came to her face in anger. How could he treat her like this, after ignoring her so thoroughly yesterday? How could he insult her, insinuating in such a cruel way? Clear thinking came over her in a wash, and she felt the ground of logic reappear beneath her feet. Firm in her stance, now, she replied cuttingly. "We may be strangers, but I do have some claim on this room and your attention, sir, as of yesterday our marriage was officially begun and I am your wife."
She found it funny to watch his eyes widen the moment the words left her mouth and comprehension dawned. He let go of her very suddenly, and the slight loss of support he had been giving her made pitch forward and almost fall onto the mattress. Gaping at her, his jaw slack, he backed away, as if she would give him the plague. "You're...Ami?"
Regaining her balance, she raised her eyebrows. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"
"And you came in...yesterday?"
The memory of yesterday's torture returned to her, and there was a tinge of hurt to her voice when she spoke. "Yes. I came yesterday."
His face wrinkled in an odd mixture of regret and pity. "I'm sorry. I must have lost track of the time...I knew you were coming, but I got caught up...I would have come to meet you..." His voice faded, and it was clear to her he was thinking of a way to make it better. When he looked up at her, his face was had somehow managed to contort hope into it's expression as well. "Do you want some breakfast?"
Makoto
The smooth leather seat beneath her reminded her far to well of the car that had carried her away from Wren and the others. The softly whirring wheels moved the scenery along, pulling her farther and farther away from them, so, in a sense, she was in the same car, on the same journey. The travel on the train and the two cars had long before blended in her mind, and would not be over even when she reached her destination, might never be over. The gaping chasm the loss of her friends had left in her would never be filled until she was with them again, and until them let it be occupied with hope.
The drivers voice startled Mako from her reverie, he had given up on conversation in the first few minutes of the drive, and the shattered silence cut her already open wounds. "We'll be arriving shortly, ma'am."
She resisted the urge to respond sarcastically, or angrily, it would accomplish nothing and would leave her feeling worse. Now she turned her attention to the window, and watched as the twisted up a long, tree-lined drive before arriving at a secluded house well away from the rest of the world.
Mako was suddenly, profoundly reminded of a horror villain in a book she had once read that had left her sleepless for nights. "Nothing but trees all around...no one to hear you scream..."
"I'm sorry, ma'am?"
The driver made her look up, a distraction she found welcome, she did not want to begin considering this prison as a house of torture, because the very thought made her stomach bottom out. "Nothing. Just," she searched wildly for an excuse, not thinking 'scaring myself senseless' would go over very well, "wondering at the size of the place."
"Yes. It is large, a wonderful piece of property, and a good house, too. The master was very likely to find it on such short notice."
The master? The sick feeling returned. What am I getting into?
The driver quickly grabbed her bags from the back, and led her to the front door. Mako smiled at her own silliness when she pictured the words 'abandon hope, all ye who enter here' engraved above it, then shook her head, clearing her mind of the last vestiges of fear. She would not let herself fear, she would remain the column of strength that had carried her and her friends through every crisis they had faced. The time for weakness was past.
The man dropped her bags at the front door, then took her to the stairs. "He wanted to see you, ma'am, in his office. I'll lead you there."
He paused, as if expecting something. Unsure of what to say, she finally choked out "Thanks", then followed him up and up and up.
On the third floor they stopped, and she went along a long hallway to a door second from the end. Her escort there abandoned her, and she watched his progress back towards wherever it was he was going, until he was out of sight, and she was alone–but for the demon lurking on the other side of the door.
Never one for long consideration–she had found over the years that it made her loose resolve–she opened it and strode in, projecting a confidence she did not altogether feel.
A man stood with his back to her looking skyward, though he spun round when she came in. Her first impression was of his long hair, which fell in waves down his back, and was several shades darker than her own. The rest of his appearance she noticed in layers, as if he were an onion she were peeling. He was tall, taller than her by a several inches, and that was good. He was thin, which was also good, there was nothing she detested more in a man than fat. His hands were large and almost beautiful, long and thin, with tapered fingers and perfect nails. She noticed his eyes last, they were a stormy grey, and caught her attention. She stared for a moment more before becoming aware that she was staring, and then he spoke.
"Well. You're not the one I expected."
Confused at the unexpected conversation starter, she blinked for a moment, before the meaning of his words sunk in. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She asked, suddenly feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment, knowing exactly what it meant. He had wanted one of the others, Mina or Wren with their cute blonde beauty, or Rei's exotic sensuality. He had not wanted her, the tall, gangly, tomboy that hovered in the back of photos, a head above the rest of the group, managing an un-photogenic smile while the photographer focused on her friends. Even though Mina had insisted that all of them except Wren keep a low profile, so that the pictures taken of them as a group were not labeled, on those occasions they had been out in public men had always swarmed on other members of the group, leaving her to be an out of place wall flower counting down the seconds until she could go home.
"I didn't think you'd be the one they'd send to me, I figured I'd get stuck with the little smart one."
Mako glowered, her instinct to be protective of her friends fueling her outrage at what might have been a slight on Ami. "For your information, the 'little smart one' is one of the nicest, best people I've ever met, and you have no right to speak about her that–"
"All right, all right." He said, raising his hands, almost in a defeated gesture. "Simmer down. I admit to my guilt. I'm sorry." It hardly pacified her, but it would have to be enough. "Now" he motioned to a chair, "would you please sit?"
Reluctant, she pulled herself down into the chair, eyes on him the entire time. He smiled when he saw her sitting and took a seat across from her, crossing one long leg over the other and bringing his fingertips together. His calm made her angry and for a while she glowered at him, but, unlike Rei, she was not disposed to long bouts of fury, and before long she relatively peaceful. When he saw that, he leaned toward her, and spoke. "I believe you will agree with me that we find ourselves in a" he paused, sarcastic humor lining his tone, "unique situation."
She smiled. "Yes. If it is anything, it is unique."
"I want to let you know one thing before we fling ourselves into this–I know we don't trust each other right at this second, but I promise you I will do my best to earn your trust and respect, and I would like you to make a similar vow." His gaze was intense as he looked across the room at her, and for the second time that day, his words caught her off guard.
She was unsure where to look, she felt uncannily like he was asking to put a very large part of herself on the line, and wasn't sure if she could commit to that, but then she met his eyes, and in that second they conveyed something to her–something she would fancy she had imagined later, but something that moved her. Dazed from the power of his regard, she nodded, slowly. "I agree to not shut you out, I will try to get along. It's not something I do very easily, but I will try."
He smiled. "Thank you. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
She returned his grin, her eyes sparkling. "See? I can behave."
He chuckled. "There are some loose ends we should tie up, and I think the first one of them is showing you the house."
She stood and motioned toward the door. "Lead on, mon capitan."
Jaedite
A sudden flurry of excitement from across the terminal made Jaedite look up from his coffee, interested in the sudden break in monotony. Well, he thought, a smile creasing his face for a moment, before fading, here at last. He stood, and stretched to work out a kink in his back, grabbed his possessions, then made his way through the confusion of the airport to where the passengers were disembarking. Making a quick evaluation of the situation, he moved to a spot near the window, where he could see the people getting off, but they couldn't see him. He wanted to see her first, wanted to surprise her. For a second he watched, then, having come to the conclusion that they were first class, and he had a few more seconds, downed the rest of his coffee and pulled the bouquet from his bag, positioning it so even if she turned to look at him, she wouldn't see it. With this final preparation, everything was ready.
He turned his full attention on the men and women de-boarding, and their family and friends greeting them. A child ran to her father, who scooped her up and spun her around, and he smiled. A man flung himself at a teary- eyed woman, in his excitement to see her, his kiss missed her lips entirely, but she didn't seem to mind. A grinning, tourist family got off, the kids looking peaked with excitement, the mother already tired, the father bursting with plans. A young mother burst out of the gate shouting after a small child "Sammy! Sammy!," until the child was stopped by a large, clean cut man. She sent him a grateful look, then got on tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Jaedite's eyes returned to the passengers, and there she was.
His first impression was that the pictures didn't nearly do her credit. They dimmed the shine of her hair, and the lines of her form were farm more impressive silhouetted by her black dress and the light from the opposite window. She turned her head, obviously looking, and he watched her lips as she muttered something, and saw her eyebrows come together in a frown. He smiled. Even from the side, even glaring, even tired from a long plane trip, she was beautiful.
She turned away from him, he admired the twist of her neck, and paused. He looked to see what had caught her attention, a tall, tan, blonde man who was also glancing about. He watched as her pause lengthened; assuming she was checking the man out, jealousy flared in his stomach. He didn't interrupt her, though, preferring to let things take their natural course–waiting for the right moment to intercept her.
She continued to look at the man until a woman, the last to get off, came running out of the gate, her face flushed, and into his arms. He smiled, and swung her just as the father Jaedite had noticed before had swung his daughter, but then caught her in a kiss that no self-respecting father would ever give his child. The woman he'd been observing turned away from them, and one look at her profile told Jaedite the moment was ripe.
He crossed the floor quickly, his hand tightening around the flowers behind his back. He considered, briefly, stopping where he was, and continuing to watch her from the shadows, but that would be cowardly, and he abhorred cowards. In moments he stood behind her, his mouth near her ear. Smiling, thinking of the many greetings he had considered for this moment, he picked his favorite, and murmured, "Hello, Rei, darling."
She spun, and he realized immediately that she was distinctly unamused. She looked, in fact, very angry. He smiled, knowing he looked cocky, and waiting to gauge her reaction. When her glare intensified, he felt a ping of smugness. He'd predicted that reaction. He had some of her character, at least, nailed.
The fact that he wasn't going in blind put him at ease, erasing the last traces of nerves and allowing him to become his wonderful, womanizing self. The object of his attentions was apparently oblivious to his reversion into his comfort zone, she seemed unaware of any change whatsoever. Practically growling, her voice came out in a snarl, "Who the hell are you?"
She also doesn't like to be surprised, he thought, filing away that piece of information, before inclining his head in a mock bow and responding. "Jaedite Harris, psychologist, politician, and" he smiled as her jaw slackened, enjoying the sense of power he got when manipulating her, "your husband." He swung the flowers from behind his back, watching her surprised reaction with pleasure.
When her surprise faded, though, and she shoved them back in his face, his satisfaction vanished. "What, are you trying to charm me or something?" She snarled, leaning into him so that he was made pleasantly aware of her perfume, "Well, let me share a little knowledge with you, buddy," she poked him firmly in the chest, "I'm not one to be charmed."
Are you, now? He smiled, knowing it only infuriated her more. "Then, and all charming aside," she let out a little, disbelieving snort, "how about we go get something to eat? You must be hungry."
She wrinkled her nose at what he suspected was the memory of airplane food and said, very grudgingly, "Fine."
Rei
Dinner at the hotel was ending up to be a private affair, which Rei had mixed feelings about. (On the one hand, she didn't want to be alone with him, on the other, people around her might a) make sly remarks or b) get her in trouble if she punched him) At any rate, hardly anyone else was in the dinning room, and the steward had led them to a table hidden in the far corner, then the man, Jaedite, he said his name was, took a seat next to her, and she was angry at his impertinence. The anger made her feel better, made the raging storm of confusion that had overtaken her since he'd presented her with flowers at the airport lessen; it made her feel more like herself. This man had been putting her off her usual stride, it was a relief to be back on it.
She tried to recall a time she'd felt more confused about anything, and the only thing that came to mind was her first boyfriend, way back in high school. That was certainly not a memory she'd like to think about, especially not right now, so she pushed it aside, instead deciding to spend some time working out just why this man made her feel at once giddy and frightened, and what she could do about it.
"Rei?"
Jaedite's voice broke through her concentrated disregard of him, she turned to look at him. He was looking at her inquiringly, expecting her to respond to something he had said.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
He smiled, and she knew he was laughing with her, and this brought another rise of comforting rage, which quickly faded as she listened to what he had to say. "This man" he nodded toward a tan waiter standing at the end of the table, and Rei blushed for not noticing him before, "was just asking you how you were enjoying the honeymoon so far?"
She narrowed her eyes at his springing a question like that on her, springing that term on her, as if he expected it to throw down her guard. She would not give him that satisfaction. Smiling brightly at the waiter and leaning into her partner so that her left side was pushed up into his chest, in what she hoped was a distracting way, she said "Oh, so far I've enjoyed it more than I can say." She lay her head on Jaedite's shoulder and smiled at the hitch in his breath. Apparently, it was working very well indeed.
Her smile didn't last long, though. Jaedite turned his head so that he could whisper in her ear, "two can play at that game," then he faced the waiter, sliding his arm around her and dragging her closer to him, his hand tracing little circles around her hipbone. At the hieghtened proximity, Rei realized something she suddenly wished she known a lot earlier, so it wouldn't have thrown her so off track now–that this man was incredibly attractive. From her position, practically sitting in his lap, crushed against his side, she was privy to all the little details of his masculinity, the smell of matted sweat, soap and cologne, the hard muscle through his shirt, the gentleness of his fingers as they felt her skin. She barely heard what he said next, "We're planning on a fabulous time here in Hawaii."
The waiter smiled at them, though his gaze seemed more fixed on Jaedite, Rei thought, than on her. "Of course you are. Hawaii is one of the best places to spend a honeymoon." He paused for a moment, and she became sure that he was checking her husband out. Unprecedented jealousy rose in her, she glared at the waiter and pressed herself further into the man, making sure everyone knew where ownership lay. The waiter cleared his throat and choked out "Your drinks will be out shortly."
Now that they were no longer faced by the scrutiny of the young man, and she no longer forced to lay claim on Jaedite, she pulled away and asked him. "What drinks?"
He smiled, and she felt, again, that he was laughing at her. "You were so lost in day dreams I thought I might as well order for us both."
"You ordered for me?" She was incredulous. No one had ordered for her in her life. Her friends knew enough of her picky tastes to know that was not the smartest thing to do.
"Yes. Why wouldn't I? You are my," he pulled her close, "darling wife after all." His mouth was so close to her face she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I know what you like."
She took a deep, angry breath. "Don't dare to presume to know that," she broke away, "sir."
He smiled at her, his eyes innocent, and she was struck by how perfect he looked thus, the low light catching in his hair, making it shine, his eyes sparkling, leaning in toward her in a conspiratorial way. His appearance overwhelmed her to the point that she didn't register what he next said. His eyes continued their laughing dance, and she was captivated by a sudden realization.
He's flirting with me.
And then another, just as shocking, if not more so.
If we were under any other circumstances, I'd be enjoying this.
That thought made her blush, and look away. As the evening progressed, however, and he began telling her stories from his life, (goodness only knows why she had let him start on those slightly egoistical rants), she found herself noticing the little things about him; the way he would impatiently brush his hair away from his eyes when he was speaking, the twist of his hands in the air as he attempted to illustrate something, the way his eyes would crinkle when he told a joke. He was also very funny, when he put his mind to it, and, surprisingly, his humor wasn't disagreeable to her. When the waiter brought them their drinks, they were both laughing over an experience of his when he had been learning to ski in France, and she was in such a good mood that she hardly noticed the heavy alcohol in her mouth as she listened to his next account, her brows drawn in concentration.
Startling her, he suddenly moved in to brush away hair that had fallen in her face. "There now. This isn't so bad, is it?," and, not giving her a chance to respond, he barreled on in his narrative. She didn't pay so much attention anymore, her mind occupied otherwise with his question.
This isn't so bad. In fact, I'm having a good time.
He said something funny then, reaching in to touch her arm, his hand turning a friendly touch into an intimate caress, and she laughed.
I'm having a wonderful time.
End
a/n. Ha! Long post! Two chapters. Don't count on this being the final edition of three, though, there are some errors I'd like to correct, but I'm desperate to know what people think of this turn in the story. So review. I hope you enjoyed it, because I've initiated one of my favorite romances, (ami/zoi) and I want to know how that scene turned out (crosses fingers please let it be well) Anyway. Read it. Review it. :) Go forth in peace.
Ta. DF
Later Date: Revision complete. (
The Lions
Ami
She was young again, perhaps seven or eight, and she was walking with her mother to the grocery store. The woman next to her was looking down at her with a thoughtful expression as she shared an experience from school. "I don't know why he's so grumpy all the time. I don't have a daddy either, and his comes back every three months to visit him. His dad's just out looking for a job, it's not like they're never going to see each other again. I think it's very spoiled of him to use that against people for pity, don't you?" She peered up at her companion, who was looking forward, her face unreadable. "Mommy?"
Her mother took a deep breath and let it out, then met her daughter's inquisitive gaze. She smiled the serene smile the little girl had become used to over the years; happy that her parent was normal again, Ami cheerfully took her hand, listening to the soft sound of her voice.
"Darling, I think you should be nicer to the poor boy. You don't know what it's like to miss someone–I've tried to shield you from the pain of loneliness as best I can. When your father died, I remember how it felt to wake up every morning, before I remembered he wasn't there, and thinking that he would be lying next to me, and I'd reach out for him, and then I'd remember and it was...very painful. I'm sure I was angry, then, too. I'm sure it hurts to be apart from anyone, whether or not their alive. Be kinder than to begrudge him rage, Ami."
Her eyes full of tears, little Ami embraced her mother, pained that the woman had been in pain. When she pulled away, the person she'd been clutching had become herself, an older Ami, that looked at her with sad eyes, and almost said something, something urgent, but then Ami, the real Ami, was awake, and instantly aware that she was not at home.
She had never dreamed when she was at home.
Sitting up, she looked around, taking in the room she had fallen asleep in, the events of the previous day coming back to her in force. She had found this room after discovering the lab and the man within it. Assuming that it was intended for her, it showed no signs of being lived in and the boxes she had sent containing her belongings were stacked neatly against the wall, she began unpacking. It had occupied her when she had desperately needed something to keep her busy, to avoid the silence of the empty house. She had worked until evening, when she had gone to bed on an empty stomach, not wanting to disturb his food without permission. Then, she hadn't been able to sleep, and the last thing she actually remembered was wondering if she would ever meet her husband.
Now that thought plagued her, as she slipped from her pajamas and into some of the clothes she had unpacked last night, jeans and a white button-up, castaways from Mina or Wren, she couldn't remember. The outfit was light, and casual, and happy, which she needed–the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of what had been lost. She managed to ignored it, and the emptiness inside her, pushing them both to the back of her mind, so that she might find escape.
She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, checking with her fingers for tangles, and after finding nothing amiss, she left her room heavy with resolve.
She would speak to him today. If it killed her, she would make him aware of her existence.
She did not pause, therefore, when she came to the empty livingroom, but let the burning sense of purpose drive her towards his bedroom door, let it wash away her mind and leave her a vessel of the need that drew her on. She did not hesitate to open his door, or to walk into his room when she had never invaded the privacy of anyone else in her life, even those she had been intimate with. She could not be ignored, could not face a day of that pressing silence again. It would drive her insane, perhaps already had, and it drove her to his window, to fling wide the curtains.
A sudden brightness filled the room, and by it she could see the figure wincing in the bed. Taking a deep, steadying breath and moving before her mind could catch up with her, she seized the initiative. In three steps she was by his side, and her hand was on his bare shoulder; she shook him and called to him, he responded with a low groan and fluttering eyelids, then growled out "God, not right now. Work can wait." He turned away from her, and she was suddenly angry.
"Oh, no it can't. Wake up right now," she replaced her hand on his shoulder, shaking him vehemently, "or I'll–"
In a sudden, fluid motion he rolled over and grabbed her wrist, at once yanking her into him and off balance, so leaned awkwardly over the bed. Their eyes met, and all the purpose washed out of her, replaced suddenly by sickening confusion, and she was very aware of his skin against hers and his eyes boring into her skull. He broke the sizzling visual contact, and she followed the path of his gaze as he took in every line of the situation, then returned to her face, and quirked one sarcastic eyebrow. "Or you'll what?"
Doubt overtook her like a storm she had been avoiding since waking–what would she have done if he hadn't woken up? What would she do now? Why had she walked into the proverbial jaws of a tiger? She desperately reached for the feeling of solitude, for the cemented need that had pushed her into the situation, but there was nothing. It was as if her clothes had been stripped away, and she was left naked to confront him.
She blushed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I just needed to speak to you, and," her voice trailed off, aware of how silly she must sound. Inwardly, she wished desperately he'd let go of her.
He was staring up at her with disbelief. "You don't know what came over you? Tell me, do you often walk into strange men's bedrooms on a whim?"
Now color came to her face in anger. How could he treat her like this, after ignoring her so thoroughly yesterday? How could he insult her, insinuating in such a cruel way? Clear thinking came over her in a wash, and she felt the ground of logic reappear beneath her feet. Firm in her stance, now, she replied cuttingly. "We may be strangers, but I do have some claim on this room and your attention, sir, as of yesterday our marriage was officially begun and I am your wife."
She found it funny to watch his eyes widen the moment the words left her mouth and comprehension dawned. He let go of her very suddenly, and the slight loss of support he had been giving her made pitch forward and almost fall onto the mattress. Gaping at her, his jaw slack, he backed away, as if she would give him the plague. "You're...Ami?"
Regaining her balance, she raised her eyebrows. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"
"And you came in...yesterday?"
The memory of yesterday's torture returned to her, and there was a tinge of hurt to her voice when she spoke. "Yes. I came yesterday."
His face wrinkled in an odd mixture of regret and pity. "I'm sorry. I must have lost track of the time...I knew you were coming, but I got caught up...I would have come to meet you..." His voice faded, and it was clear to her he was thinking of a way to make it better. When he looked up at her, his face was had somehow managed to contort hope into it's expression as well. "Do you want some breakfast?"
Makoto
The smooth leather seat beneath her reminded her far to well of the car that had carried her away from Wren and the others. The softly whirring wheels moved the scenery along, pulling her farther and farther away from them, so, in a sense, she was in the same car, on the same journey. The travel on the train and the two cars had long before blended in her mind, and would not be over even when she reached her destination, might never be over. The gaping chasm the loss of her friends had left in her would never be filled until she was with them again, and until them let it be occupied with hope.
The drivers voice startled Mako from her reverie, he had given up on conversation in the first few minutes of the drive, and the shattered silence cut her already open wounds. "We'll be arriving shortly, ma'am."
She resisted the urge to respond sarcastically, or angrily, it would accomplish nothing and would leave her feeling worse. Now she turned her attention to the window, and watched as the twisted up a long, tree-lined drive before arriving at a secluded house well away from the rest of the world.
Mako was suddenly, profoundly reminded of a horror villain in a book she had once read that had left her sleepless for nights. "Nothing but trees all around...no one to hear you scream..."
"I'm sorry, ma'am?"
The driver made her look up, a distraction she found welcome, she did not want to begin considering this prison as a house of torture, because the very thought made her stomach bottom out. "Nothing. Just," she searched wildly for an excuse, not thinking 'scaring myself senseless' would go over very well, "wondering at the size of the place."
"Yes. It is large, a wonderful piece of property, and a good house, too. The master was very likely to find it on such short notice."
The master? The sick feeling returned. What am I getting into?
The driver quickly grabbed her bags from the back, and led her to the front door. Mako smiled at her own silliness when she pictured the words 'abandon hope, all ye who enter here' engraved above it, then shook her head, clearing her mind of the last vestiges of fear. She would not let herself fear, she would remain the column of strength that had carried her and her friends through every crisis they had faced. The time for weakness was past.
The man dropped her bags at the front door, then took her to the stairs. "He wanted to see you, ma'am, in his office. I'll lead you there."
He paused, as if expecting something. Unsure of what to say, she finally choked out "Thanks", then followed him up and up and up.
On the third floor they stopped, and she went along a long hallway to a door second from the end. Her escort there abandoned her, and she watched his progress back towards wherever it was he was going, until he was out of sight, and she was alone–but for the demon lurking on the other side of the door.
Never one for long consideration–she had found over the years that it made her loose resolve–she opened it and strode in, projecting a confidence she did not altogether feel.
A man stood with his back to her looking skyward, though he spun round when she came in. Her first impression was of his long hair, which fell in waves down his back, and was several shades darker than her own. The rest of his appearance she noticed in layers, as if he were an onion she were peeling. He was tall, taller than her by a several inches, and that was good. He was thin, which was also good, there was nothing she detested more in a man than fat. His hands were large and almost beautiful, long and thin, with tapered fingers and perfect nails. She noticed his eyes last, they were a stormy grey, and caught her attention. She stared for a moment more before becoming aware that she was staring, and then he spoke.
"Well. You're not the one I expected."
Confused at the unexpected conversation starter, she blinked for a moment, before the meaning of his words sunk in. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She asked, suddenly feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment, knowing exactly what it meant. He had wanted one of the others, Mina or Wren with their cute blonde beauty, or Rei's exotic sensuality. He had not wanted her, the tall, gangly, tomboy that hovered in the back of photos, a head above the rest of the group, managing an un-photogenic smile while the photographer focused on her friends. Even though Mina had insisted that all of them except Wren keep a low profile, so that the pictures taken of them as a group were not labeled, on those occasions they had been out in public men had always swarmed on other members of the group, leaving her to be an out of place wall flower counting down the seconds until she could go home.
"I didn't think you'd be the one they'd send to me, I figured I'd get stuck with the little smart one."
Mako glowered, her instinct to be protective of her friends fueling her outrage at what might have been a slight on Ami. "For your information, the 'little smart one' is one of the nicest, best people I've ever met, and you have no right to speak about her that–"
"All right, all right." He said, raising his hands, almost in a defeated gesture. "Simmer down. I admit to my guilt. I'm sorry." It hardly pacified her, but it would have to be enough. "Now" he motioned to a chair, "would you please sit?"
Reluctant, she pulled herself down into the chair, eyes on him the entire time. He smiled when he saw her sitting and took a seat across from her, crossing one long leg over the other and bringing his fingertips together. His calm made her angry and for a while she glowered at him, but, unlike Rei, she was not disposed to long bouts of fury, and before long she relatively peaceful. When he saw that, he leaned toward her, and spoke. "I believe you will agree with me that we find ourselves in a" he paused, sarcastic humor lining his tone, "unique situation."
She smiled. "Yes. If it is anything, it is unique."
"I want to let you know one thing before we fling ourselves into this–I know we don't trust each other right at this second, but I promise you I will do my best to earn your trust and respect, and I would like you to make a similar vow." His gaze was intense as he looked across the room at her, and for the second time that day, his words caught her off guard.
She was unsure where to look, she felt uncannily like he was asking to put a very large part of herself on the line, and wasn't sure if she could commit to that, but then she met his eyes, and in that second they conveyed something to her–something she would fancy she had imagined later, but something that moved her. Dazed from the power of his regard, she nodded, slowly. "I agree to not shut you out, I will try to get along. It's not something I do very easily, but I will try."
He smiled. "Thank you. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
She returned his grin, her eyes sparkling. "See? I can behave."
He chuckled. "There are some loose ends we should tie up, and I think the first one of them is showing you the house."
She stood and motioned toward the door. "Lead on, mon capitan."
Jaedite
A sudden flurry of excitement from across the terminal made Jaedite look up from his coffee, interested in the sudden break in monotony. Well, he thought, a smile creasing his face for a moment, before fading, here at last. He stood, and stretched to work out a kink in his back, grabbed his possessions, then made his way through the confusion of the airport to where the passengers were disembarking. Making a quick evaluation of the situation, he moved to a spot near the window, where he could see the people getting off, but they couldn't see him. He wanted to see her first, wanted to surprise her. For a second he watched, then, having come to the conclusion that they were first class, and he had a few more seconds, downed the rest of his coffee and pulled the bouquet from his bag, positioning it so even if she turned to look at him, she wouldn't see it. With this final preparation, everything was ready.
He turned his full attention on the men and women de-boarding, and their family and friends greeting them. A child ran to her father, who scooped her up and spun her around, and he smiled. A man flung himself at a teary- eyed woman, in his excitement to see her, his kiss missed her lips entirely, but she didn't seem to mind. A grinning, tourist family got off, the kids looking peaked with excitement, the mother already tired, the father bursting with plans. A young mother burst out of the gate shouting after a small child "Sammy! Sammy!," until the child was stopped by a large, clean cut man. She sent him a grateful look, then got on tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Jaedite's eyes returned to the passengers, and there she was.
His first impression was that the pictures didn't nearly do her credit. They dimmed the shine of her hair, and the lines of her form were farm more impressive silhouetted by her black dress and the light from the opposite window. She turned her head, obviously looking, and he watched her lips as she muttered something, and saw her eyebrows come together in a frown. He smiled. Even from the side, even glaring, even tired from a long plane trip, she was beautiful.
She turned away from him, he admired the twist of her neck, and paused. He looked to see what had caught her attention, a tall, tan, blonde man who was also glancing about. He watched as her pause lengthened; assuming she was checking the man out, jealousy flared in his stomach. He didn't interrupt her, though, preferring to let things take their natural course–waiting for the right moment to intercept her.
She continued to look at the man until a woman, the last to get off, came running out of the gate, her face flushed, and into his arms. He smiled, and swung her just as the father Jaedite had noticed before had swung his daughter, but then caught her in a kiss that no self-respecting father would ever give his child. The woman he'd been observing turned away from them, and one look at her profile told Jaedite the moment was ripe.
He crossed the floor quickly, his hand tightening around the flowers behind his back. He considered, briefly, stopping where he was, and continuing to watch her from the shadows, but that would be cowardly, and he abhorred cowards. In moments he stood behind her, his mouth near her ear. Smiling, thinking of the many greetings he had considered for this moment, he picked his favorite, and murmured, "Hello, Rei, darling."
She spun, and he realized immediately that she was distinctly unamused. She looked, in fact, very angry. He smiled, knowing he looked cocky, and waiting to gauge her reaction. When her glare intensified, he felt a ping of smugness. He'd predicted that reaction. He had some of her character, at least, nailed.
The fact that he wasn't going in blind put him at ease, erasing the last traces of nerves and allowing him to become his wonderful, womanizing self. The object of his attentions was apparently oblivious to his reversion into his comfort zone, she seemed unaware of any change whatsoever. Practically growling, her voice came out in a snarl, "Who the hell are you?"
She also doesn't like to be surprised, he thought, filing away that piece of information, before inclining his head in a mock bow and responding. "Jaedite Harris, psychologist, politician, and" he smiled as her jaw slackened, enjoying the sense of power he got when manipulating her, "your husband." He swung the flowers from behind his back, watching her surprised reaction with pleasure.
When her surprise faded, though, and she shoved them back in his face, his satisfaction vanished. "What, are you trying to charm me or something?" She snarled, leaning into him so that he was made pleasantly aware of her perfume, "Well, let me share a little knowledge with you, buddy," she poked him firmly in the chest, "I'm not one to be charmed."
Are you, now? He smiled, knowing it only infuriated her more. "Then, and all charming aside," she let out a little, disbelieving snort, "how about we go get something to eat? You must be hungry."
She wrinkled her nose at what he suspected was the memory of airplane food and said, very grudgingly, "Fine."
Rei
Dinner at the hotel was ending up to be a private affair, which Rei had mixed feelings about. (On the one hand, she didn't want to be alone with him, on the other, people around her might a) make sly remarks or b) get her in trouble if she punched him) At any rate, hardly anyone else was in the dinning room, and the steward had led them to a table hidden in the far corner, then the man, Jaedite, he said his name was, took a seat next to her, and she was angry at his impertinence. The anger made her feel better, made the raging storm of confusion that had overtaken her since he'd presented her with flowers at the airport lessen; it made her feel more like herself. This man had been putting her off her usual stride, it was a relief to be back on it.
She tried to recall a time she'd felt more confused about anything, and the only thing that came to mind was her first boyfriend, way back in high school. That was certainly not a memory she'd like to think about, especially not right now, so she pushed it aside, instead deciding to spend some time working out just why this man made her feel at once giddy and frightened, and what she could do about it.
"Rei?"
Jaedite's voice broke through her concentrated disregard of him, she turned to look at him. He was looking at her inquiringly, expecting her to respond to something he had said.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
He smiled, and she knew he was laughing with her, and this brought another rise of comforting rage, which quickly faded as she listened to what he had to say. "This man" he nodded toward a tan waiter standing at the end of the table, and Rei blushed for not noticing him before, "was just asking you how you were enjoying the honeymoon so far?"
She narrowed her eyes at his springing a question like that on her, springing that term on her, as if he expected it to throw down her guard. She would not give him that satisfaction. Smiling brightly at the waiter and leaning into her partner so that her left side was pushed up into his chest, in what she hoped was a distracting way, she said "Oh, so far I've enjoyed it more than I can say." She lay her head on Jaedite's shoulder and smiled at the hitch in his breath. Apparently, it was working very well indeed.
Her smile didn't last long, though. Jaedite turned his head so that he could whisper in her ear, "two can play at that game," then he faced the waiter, sliding his arm around her and dragging her closer to him, his hand tracing little circles around her hipbone. At the hieghtened proximity, Rei realized something she suddenly wished she known a lot earlier, so it wouldn't have thrown her so off track now–that this man was incredibly attractive. From her position, practically sitting in his lap, crushed against his side, she was privy to all the little details of his masculinity, the smell of matted sweat, soap and cologne, the hard muscle through his shirt, the gentleness of his fingers as they felt her skin. She barely heard what he said next, "We're planning on a fabulous time here in Hawaii."
The waiter smiled at them, though his gaze seemed more fixed on Jaedite, Rei thought, than on her. "Of course you are. Hawaii is one of the best places to spend a honeymoon." He paused for a moment, and she became sure that he was checking her husband out. Unprecedented jealousy rose in her, she glared at the waiter and pressed herself further into the man, making sure everyone knew where ownership lay. The waiter cleared his throat and choked out "Your drinks will be out shortly."
Now that they were no longer faced by the scrutiny of the young man, and she no longer forced to lay claim on Jaedite, she pulled away and asked him. "What drinks?"
He smiled, and she felt, again, that he was laughing at her. "You were so lost in day dreams I thought I might as well order for us both."
"You ordered for me?" She was incredulous. No one had ordered for her in her life. Her friends knew enough of her picky tastes to know that was not the smartest thing to do.
"Yes. Why wouldn't I? You are my," he pulled her close, "darling wife after all." His mouth was so close to her face she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I know what you like."
She took a deep, angry breath. "Don't dare to presume to know that," she broke away, "sir."
He smiled at her, his eyes innocent, and she was struck by how perfect he looked thus, the low light catching in his hair, making it shine, his eyes sparkling, leaning in toward her in a conspiratorial way. His appearance overwhelmed her to the point that she didn't register what he next said. His eyes continued their laughing dance, and she was captivated by a sudden realization.
He's flirting with me.
And then another, just as shocking, if not more so.
If we were under any other circumstances, I'd be enjoying this.
That thought made her blush, and look away. As the evening progressed, however, and he began telling her stories from his life, (goodness only knows why she had let him start on those slightly egoistical rants), she found herself noticing the little things about him; the way he would impatiently brush his hair away from his eyes when he was speaking, the twist of his hands in the air as he attempted to illustrate something, the way his eyes would crinkle when he told a joke. He was also very funny, when he put his mind to it, and, surprisingly, his humor wasn't disagreeable to her. When the waiter brought them their drinks, they were both laughing over an experience of his when he had been learning to ski in France, and she was in such a good mood that she hardly noticed the heavy alcohol in her mouth as she listened to his next account, her brows drawn in concentration.
Startling her, he suddenly moved in to brush away hair that had fallen in her face. "There now. This isn't so bad, is it?," and, not giving her a chance to respond, he barreled on in his narrative. She didn't pay so much attention anymore, her mind occupied otherwise with his question.
This isn't so bad. In fact, I'm having a good time.
He said something funny then, reaching in to touch her arm, his hand turning a friendly touch into an intimate caress, and she laughed.
I'm having a wonderful time.
End
a/n. Ha! Long post! Two chapters. Don't count on this being the final edition of three, though, there are some errors I'd like to correct, but I'm desperate to know what people think of this turn in the story. So review. I hope you enjoyed it, because I've initiated one of my favorite romances, (ami/zoi) and I want to know how that scene turned out (crosses fingers please let it be well) Anyway. Read it. Review it. :) Go forth in peace.
Ta. DF
Later Date: Revision complete. (