AN: No excuses people. I have a few, but i'll take too long to write out. So just assume that I'm just lazy, and feel free to hurl abuse. I CAN TAKE IT! I CAN TAKE IT ALL!
I credit this chapter being finished at all to the fact that my parents just got a new VCR to replace the old one that blew a circuit six mths ago. Long story short, I watched my taped ZOIDS episodes and remembered everything I love about the show, and why I wrote this story in the first place.
Sorry, no review responses this time. I want to get this up to you guys as soon. Enjoy.
Chapter 11: Let's see how crazy I can drive you in 24 hours
If Van wasn't expecting to see Raven and Ryss fighting or plotting as he entered the newly-assigned room the three of them had been assigned later that night (yes, it had taken him the entire afternoon to relocate himself), he had no expectations at all. Seeing them making out on one of the beds in the room was certainly not high on the list though, and made him wish that he either had the intelligence to knock or the foresight to bring a camera, if only for future blackmail purposes; seeing the world's two remaining super villains pashing could bring in quite a price for his deflating bank account.
Trying to move around sneakily so as not to disturb the pair (and thus allow the moment to last), he decided to raid the closets to try and find something even halfway decent to wear, and received the shock of his life to find one black zoid of the generally vicious variety perched on top of the furniture, eyeing the make-out session speculatively. If the fact that the huge organoid was fitted comfortably into a cubic metre of space wasn't enough to jolt the heart attack, the leering expression on the metal face certainly was. A glance at another corner of the room showed that at least Ryss' organoid had the decency to (pretend to) sleep through the exchange, making him wonder how such a stoic master had managed to create such a perverted servant, and vice-versa.
Irony is a wonderful plot device for the world.
Randomly pulling out a few garments and accessories, he stared at the mass with a frown, trying to decide which ones to wear for the next night. Eventually giving himself a migraine, he turned around and walked over, patiently waiting for an opportunity to ask one or the other (preferably the latter) of his roommates for a more expert opinion. It also gave him a good excuse for watching the two, noting that although Ryss was far more enthusiastic than a bored-looking Raven, they both kissed slowly and for a very long time. A Very Long Time.
"Have you two been at this since I was gone?" he crankily asked after a few more minutes, beginning to wonder if they both possessed extra lungs, or were just skilled. Receiving a derisive snort as a reply derailed his train of thought, before Ryss momentarily disentangled her mouth to speak.
"No, just the past twenty minutes or so. We were otherwise occupied before then." Her grin widened as she made a very obvious job of checking him out. "Wanna join?"
"Nope," he answered as cheerfully as she had asked, not even flinching from Raven's glare (though admittedly it wasn't directed at him). "I have a date tomorrow night with Fiona."
If the intent of murder hadn't been aimed at him before, it certainly was now. Gulping, Van almost didn't hear the low voice growl, "That damned blonde zoidian you ditched?"
"I didn't ditch her! It was a mutual agreement, and we were always going to remain at least friends, even if we weren't together or dating."
"Whatever," shrugged Raven, coldly turning away. "Don't bring her back to this room."
"Don't give me orders!" He was annoyed, and snapping at the other pilot, and he couldn't figure out what was wrong with this conversation. Unless… "What's it to you anyway?"
"…I'd rather sleep than listen to anything that happens."
"Oh," muttered Van, slightly disappointed. Then his brain caught up to the sentence. "Oh… Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter! Dammit Ryss, stop grinning like that! Nothing's going to happen!"
"Che, how boring. Too bad." She stretched out, putting her head in Raven's lap and happily fell onto the ground after she was thrown off. Seeing that there was nothing else to see, Van crankily snagged a nearby wallet and rattled it to confirm that there were coins in it, grumbled at the creased items in his hands and began to slide out.
"Van?"
He turned around to see Ryss braced on her elbows, still grinning as she flapped one hand at him.
"Choose the pink shirt. I'm sure Alisi Lynette will love it!"
The item –which actually belonged to the previous occupants of the room rather than any of the three– attacked her face as an answer, and Van stomped away, muttering obscenities as the muffled high-pitched laughter followed him down the hall. He sincerely hoped that she choked on the item, and that she didn't realise that he'd left the door open before continuing further activities; it would serve her right for making fun of him, dammit!
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The Flyheight that woke up in the palace of Emperor Rudolph at seven o'clock the next morning was not a happy one. He'd used up all the coins in Ryss' wallet without locating a single suitable restaurant via phone, and wandered through the city the whole night to find a bank, only to realise that he didn't have his own wallet with him. He'd then wandered back about halfway, before finding his own credit card mysteriously lodged in the back of the empty wallet he'd held, and had returned to the ATM with curses. These increased when he looked at his account, and sadly removed half of its total amount. Then, he'd been confronted by first a bunch of armed robbers determined for his cash, and then some drunken louts determined for his head. The diplomatic dispatching of these groups took a little longer than usual, since he didn't have either a gun or the free usage of his hands (they were trying to shove the money into a pocket and seal it). Then, he'd gotten lost in the city, until he'd hailed a palace guard back from a night out and followed him home, getting into bed sometime in the morning.
So essentially, the Flyheight that woke up in the palace of Emperor Rudolph at seven o'clock the next morning had gone to sleep at seven o'clock in the morning, and therefore, had gotten no sleep.
Damn. It. ALL.
Groaning as he climbed out of bed again, he glared resentfully at the soundly sleeping Ryss, noting that Raven had already gotten up and left. Deciding not to laugh at the blue tooth fairy pyjamas that the blue-haired zoidian was wearing, he gathered up some items and took a loooonnnnggg shower, feeling much more alive afterwards. Hair dripping slightly onto his comfortable Republican clothes, he contemplated breakfast or at least coffee, and had just decided against it when a knock on the door proclaimed a maid bearing pancakes, syrup, fruit and a pot of caffeine. Enthusiastically exchanging the food for a tip, he read the note apologising for the lack of papayas (they weren't in season at the moment, and rather hard to procure) as he set the lot down and commenced devouring.
Twenty minutes later, an incredibly satisfied and hyper Van set down the fork happily, and started out the door.
"You're going for a battle?"
"Yep!" With a grin, he turned to talk to a sleepy but coherent Ryss, who hadn't moved except to open one eye; lying on her side she could see him perfectly. "I'm going to kick Irvine's sorry ass into oblivion, or at least into defeat. Wanna come watch?"
"I'd rather sleep. Don't overdo it, 'k?" Without waiting for an answer, she rolled over to her other side.
"Yessir!"
Hitting his hand on his forehead when he tried to salute failed to dimmer his mood, as did smacking into various (armoured) guards and objects and tripping over edges of carpets and furniture. Consequently, he arrived at the zoids storage place ready to give Liger a nice long hug and possibly a bottle of champagne to celebrate his recovery before they took a little exercise run. He was thus unprepared for battle, and consequently suffered by walking straight between a rather violent eye exchange between his missing roommate and a certain Lightning Saix pilot over the entire five hundred metre span of the room.
Van made a mental note to instruct Rudolph to move their zoids further away from each other, so that such atrocious off-duty conflicts did not occur.
From what he could see, Raven was quite meticulously attending to the needs of his zoid, despite his attention being partly diverted. Curious for a moment, Van imagined why the Genobreaker's pilot looked so annoyed at the mercenary, and gave up soon after; it wasn't like the maverick needed a reason to be cranky anyway. On the other hand, he could make a fair guess at the reasons for Irvine's reaction, and consequently wondered why he was hanging around someone he hated so much with anyway. He walked across to the Lightning Saix, and waved to Irvine, who didn't move.
"Yo Irvine, you in there?" He flapped a hand in front of the taller man's face. "What're you doing here anyway? Wasn't your zoid in the other room?"
"Waiting for you," the mercenary drawled in response. "And yes, the Lightning Saix was in the other room, but I moved it here so I can keep an eye on it while I wait. Security reasons." Seeing a questioning look on Van's face, he elaborated. "That blue-haired psycho's hanging around the palace for some reason. Who knows what she might do to my zoid if I leave it unsupervised."
Registering that Raven's full attention had been drawn by Irvine's words, Van laughed nervously. "R-really? That's weird. But it's not like you can camp out here or something, right? That would be pretty dumb…"
"Right."
Mentally, he was going over a thousand different ways to kill Ryss, though it looked as though he'd have to hurry to do so; Raven was very swiftly finishing his maintenance work and ripping the equipment apart as he went. This abrupt flurry of activity caught Irvine's interest, and he watched with grudging awe as the routine cleaning and fixing was finished in record time (or at least ten times faster than he could have done) yet still appeared to be a thorough job. As the maverick packed his remaining salvageable equipment with a little more restraint, he turned to Van and asked, "Did you know that she was here?"
"Eh… of course not," the shorter pilot answered, praying that he sounded at least a minuscule bit believable. Seeing that this was unlikely, he quickly switched topics by saying, "Anyway, are we just going to just stand here, or are we going to have that match? I can't wait to pulverise you into oblivion!"
About to storm out the door, Raven turned around and snapped, "The doctors told you not to have another zoid battle for at least a month, idiot."
"Since when did you listen to doctors, Raven?" cut in Irvine mockingly. Despite the casual question, he shifted into a defensive position, ready for a fight if one came up. "Besides, it's none of your business whether or not Van fights in a battle. That's Van's choice, not yours."
About to snarl something back, the maverick changed his mind very abruptly and stormed off, then stormed right back again, prompting Irvine to lift an eyebrow in question. The reply was also non-verbal; Raven crossed his arms to show that he was waiting for something. Another stand-off occurred between the two, until Van very nervously asked, "Er, Raven? What–?"
"Somebody has to judge the match."
"Oh, yeah…"
At this, the mercenary frowned. "I'm to believe that you are going to moderate this match?"
Cool violet challenged his disbelieving statement, mentally forcing away Irvine's will to argue. Giving up on his objections –albeit very grudgingly– he stalked off to his zoid without a further word and jumped into the cockpit, piloting the Lightning Saix out a side door. Watching with a sigh, Van began to head towards his own zoid and was just settling into the familiar seat and controls when a thought occurred to him. With the hatch still open, it was a simple task to lean out slightly and shout down, "Hey! How're you going to get to the match?"
Seeming to consider for a moment, Raven then shrugged and promptly disappeared. A squeak of surprise was covered by the maverick's voice sounding from above. "This should do quite nicely for now."
Peering up, Van saw that the other pilot had seated himself on Liger's head, using a few bumps and edges for purchase. Shaking his head at the arrogance the delinquent was displaying, he closed the hatch and muttered, "Serves him right if I send him off the top" before following Irvine's lead, making sure the ride was as bumpy as zoid-ishly possible.
Five minutes later, without the mishap of one grey-haired human crashing spectacularly off a bright blue zoid, the latter crunched into a large room and peered around. It was an indoor training rink, around ten kilometers in width and twenty in length, limitations that slightly disappointed the Blade Liger and its pilot. A balcony encircled the room's walls, with stairs leading up from each of the three doors; Raven jumped down and ran up for a safer –though less close-up– view. Having spent some time choosing a preferable position (much to the impatience and ire of the two competing pilots), he turned and said with disinterest, "The match will continue until one of you is incapable of fighting anymore, whether you be dead, unconscious or your zoid is totaled–"
"I don't think it'll be quite that bad, Raven," interrupted Van slightly sheepishly; he shut up when met with a glare.
"If however, I judge that the match is already over, I will stop it." He turned to the Lightning Saix after hearing a snort of disdain, and added, "With or without a zoid."
"Right!" saluted Van enthusiastically. A rather deadpan wave originated from Irvine.
Seemingly satisfied, the self-appointed judge commanded, "Begin."
The word set off a literal whirlwind of action as the Blade Liger charged straight in, too excited to wait for strategies or plans. Claws were outstretched and tore away chunks of reinforced metal floor that preceded its strike. The opponent waited with agitation as metres were sliced away, and the blue zoid advanced from one side of the room to the other. Then, with a sudden burst of energy the latter shot forward, paws outstretched and ready to rip apart the opponent. Irvine began moving buttons.
Speed was the tiger/lion's forte, but the Lightning Saix was named such for a reason. Without waiting for the Liger to run into range, he maneuvered away and brushed past the walls in a blur, then spinning 180 degrees to aim all guns at the halted zoid. Before he could fire a single shot though, the blue zoid launched forward and began firing at his feet, forcing a retreat from the canine. Leaping backwards, the mercenary almost didn't see the beam of blue piercing for him; he twisted mid-air and caught the attack on joint, doing minimal damage but shaking the machine up. Landing heavily, Irvine quickly assessed the damage done.
"Plasma particles?" he murmured, then looked resentfully at his opponent on the screen, who was grinning back. "You've done some serious upgrading on that old zoid of yours, haven't you Van? Any other surprises?"
"None that you need to know about yet, Irvine! You'll find out everything in due time."
"I look forward to it," grumbled the mercenary sarcastically, though a glint of anticipation said otherwise.
He moved forward, zigzagging in a blur across the separating distance. Calmly, Van waited as the faster zoid spun into position behind him, and turned in time to catch his opponent head on with the Blade Liger's shield. Metal dug lightly into the yellow barrier, but Irvine quickly jumped off before any electrical damage was incurred. Landing, he grinned as he activated his own secret weapon and pounced forward. Ten inch claws protracted and heated up quickly, colouring from silver to orange to white. They sunk deep into the ward and tore down, producing long openings that he aimed bullets through.
Cursing, Van jumped away before his enemy could pull the trigger, shutting down the damaged shield as he did so. Eyeing the Lightning Saix's paws with annoyance, he scowled, "Is that another new contraption by Dr. D? You're his testing slave, I swear!"
"As a matter of fact, it is. Latest technology, just off the design board."
"I can see that. That thing's got more flaws than a freshly dug up Deathsaurer." With a very wide grin, Van shot forward, still talking. "For example, the length of those claws cuts your maneuverability down by at least 30 percent. That's all I need to nail you, Irvine!"
"You think it's that easy?" To the Blade Liger's disappointment, the unclipped claws protracted quickly, and the Saix jumped out of range. When the lion/tiger zoid stopped, a button released an assortment of missiles into the air above; most smashed into the low ceiling, but a few exploded properly to rain long pinning needles to capture Van. The proximity was dangerous, and one foot was nailed; with an apology to his partner, he wrenched the appendage out, needle and all. Viewing the weapon thoughtfully, he chuckled.
"I don't see what's so funny about getting the Blade Liger injured like that," the mercenary commented. "These new needles will activate electric shocks through your entire Zoid every five seconds. There's perks to being a testing slave to one of the most brilliant scientists in the world."
"Maybe, but I don't need any fancy gadgets to win." Pausing as the first shock zapped his machine, Van grimaced and replied, "I just need these skills."
Without a warning, Liger charged forward again, brushing off the second shock as though it were merely air. Pushing all of his boosters to full power, Van was careful not to land heavily on the injured paw. Even so, the speed was too fast, and the Lightning Saix found itself retreating wretchedly into a corner to avoid the bullets thrown its way. Without room to move, Irvine watched his opponent leap into the air, favouring one side, and swipe down and forward with the damaged foot. The needle point was aimed for the canine's head.
"This match is over."
Surprised, Van made a sloppy midair turning and ended up banging against a wall, crumpling down to the floor with Liger berating him. Straightening up, he yelled, "What do you mean this match is over, you idiot? I–"
"I judged that this match is over, and as judge my word stands." Raven turned and walked for the stairs.
"Now wait here you little… Fiona? Moonbei? What are you guys doing here?"
"I wanted to see you fight again Van," she replied, smiling as she waved. "It's been such a long time, and you've improved a lot these few years."
"Yeah, I can't believe you beat Irvine that easily, and without an organoid at that," added Moonbei, making her way over to her boyfriend to yell down at him. "Hey Irvine, get up, you lazy excuse for a pilot! I need you to help move some stuff, hurry up already!"
"I'm not helping you steal furniture."
"Who said anything about furniture, you big lump! Get up here now!"
"Yeah, yeah." Turning to Van, Irvine remarked, "That was a good match. It's nice to spar with someone of skill once in a while. Next time I've got something new to test out, I'll be sure to ask you to help."
"I'll be there!" He turned and winked at the blonde zoidian. "And now I'm going to go find a nice restaurant for us to eat in! See you later, Fi!"
"See you then, Van."
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As promised, the Blade Liger's pilot spent the rest of his morning fixing up his zoid, then at a booth in the palace garden searching through a phone book and marking with a nifty highlighter he'd found under a carpet (by tripping over it). It occurred to him that a name, address and phone number really didn't tell him much, especially when the names were like "Jo's Food" (he didn't shortlist that place). By lunch, he was endowed with a migraine, and decided to work it off by devouring the huge sandwiches and salads that the maid had once again brought. The delicious edibles made him wonder if he should just treat Fiona to a meal in the palace, courtesy of the mystery person who kept sending him food. Several reasons deterred him; one was that he didn't know who that person was, the other was that he wanted to do this thing right.
With a heavy heart and a sense of doom, he tracked down Rudolph.
The emperor was more than happy to provide aid, once armed with a promise that the pilot would help test out some new zoids that Empire had developed. As the fifteen-year-old worked through the list of eateries, he cheerfully explained that while Rosso and Violo usually did the testing, they were currently being held up somewhere in the west by bandits, and that the last radio contact they'd received from the pair had been two days ago. Asked if he was worried about his "parents", the young teen frowned in reply, then shook his head.
"I'm sure that they're fine. I have complete faith in them."
Eventually finding a restaurant both he and Van deemed reasonable, Rudolph then arranged for a car to chauffeur him around for the day, and handed the latter a mobile and a few phone numbers. Accepting these much more gracefully than he would have normally, the pilot set off in the stretch limousine to the eatery to make a booking for the evening, and familiarize himself with the area and menu. Along the way, he ordered a stop at a jewellery store, and purchased a coral and pearl necklace with a hefty price tag and pretty box. With all his errands for the day run, he was driven home and arranged to meet the car again at a quarter past seven.
Tired out after a long day, he made his way to his room with a loud yawn, making sure to ask for directions. This intelligent method of travelling had him at the door in twenty minutes (why was the palace so damned big anyway?) and he pushed the door open without looking. His eyes were certainly open when he found himself looking at the room's sole occupant, seated on a bed and toying with yet another zoid part. Van gritted his teeth, earlier grievance remembered.
"You gonna tell me why you stopped that match?"
"No. I don't answer to you, Flyheight."
Feeling annoyance build up at the snide response, he slammed the door behind him and stalked to the bed furthest away, in an effort to put distance between him and Raven. Unfortunately, despite the size of the room, he wasn't nearly as far away as he wanted to be since the maverick had decided to occupy the central bed. Entirely unpleased, Van nevertheless resolved to ignore him as he ripped open a hamper and began pulling out items. In the middle of doing so, he burst out, "There was no need to stop that match! Neither of us had won, and it's not like either of us was going to die from my attack! Stopping it at that time was dangerous and stupid and reckless–"
"It's not like you couldn't stop. Don't blame me for your shoddy landing."
"It was not a shoddy landing given the circumstances! What if it had been someone else, huh? They–"
"Would I bother to watch some idiotic amateur–"
"I'M NOT FINISHED!" In a flash, Van had turned around and grabbed the other pilot's collar, glaring heatedly at cool violet. His other hand was already poised to punch. "Answer why now!"
About to refuse, but seemingly bored with the conversation, the maverick shrugged. "I wanted to see the latest advancements in zoid weaponry, and that annoying mercenary friend of yours always has the newest gadgets. Since there was nothing else he had equipped, I saw no need to continue such a boring match."
"Why you…!"
Patience broken, the former lieutenant aimed his fist for the other's nose, only to be caught in a grip strong enough to crack his knuckles. "I told you once that your fighting skills are worse than your piloting," Raven smirked. "Looks like you still need to work on that."
Breaking away when his hand was released, Van angrily picked up the discarded items and stormed away to the adjoining bathroom. He threw a glance back and was about to make an immature comment when he noticed that the Genobreaker's pilot was deep in thought, and probably wouldn't hear him anyway. Slamming another door, he changed and soaked his head thoroughly with cold water under the shower head, before broodily walking back to the bedroom, toweling his head. To his surprise, Raven had already left.
'I have to give him credit for knowing when to get lost,' he thought sulkily, setting his alarm and going to sleep.
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Fiona had been ready for a whole of ten minutes when a knock on her door proclaimed her date's arrival. Moonbei and Irvine had already stepped out to test Guygalos' nightclubs earlier, leaving her alone in her preparations. That was okay; she needed to be alone. Now, smoothing out her pale pink dress with ungloved hands, she walked to the door slowly in flat-soled shoes, anticipation building. Jade bracelets clinked lightly as she turned the knob, and opened the room to Van with a smile on her face. He had also been smiling; now he looked stunned.
"Wow, Fiona. You look… um… really pretty."
In truth, she believed that Van was the one who looked pretty, wearing a maroon shirt and black slacks, with a black jacket folded over his arm. His boots were still old and worn though, and the ponytail never neat, she noticed with a smile as she kissed his cheek in greeting. He recovered quickly, and gallantly presented her with a box.
"This is for you, my dear."
Opening it up to find a pricey necklace, she smiled and murmured, "So beautiful," before putting it on. The white pearls and rose coral set off her dress perfectly. Looking up at Van, she asked, "Shall we go?"
Van led her through the palace gardens –lit with lanterns and filled with fountains, displaying luscious plants that should have been ill-suited to the desert environment– where he cheekily pinched a rose to tuck behind her ear. They arrived just as the limousine was pulling up, and sat down inside, where he instructed the driver on where they were going, and the route. Fiona tested the television, and upon finding that there was nothing to watch bar soap operas and the news, switched the contraption off and talked to her date the entire way instead.
They arrived at the ritzy eatery on time, and Van instructed his chauffeur to pick them up again at nine o'clock. Inside, his booking was instantly recognised, and they were led to a table already set for two, yet roomy enough for four. Opening the menus, they each picked an entrée, main and dessert, as well as a drink, then waited quietly until their hands were occupied with glasses. By this time, the restaurant was completely filled, yet the atmosphere managed to remain calm and serene. Fiona sighed happily.
"It's been a while since I've eaten at such a nice place," she remarked contentedly, sipping at her lemonade.
"Why? You've been too busy?"
Nod. "Unfortunately, my position at the Guardian Force Headquarters requires a great amount of time and attention. Also, there's been nobody to take me…"
"What about Thomas?" asked the pilot, pointedly ignoring her hint by slurping his orange juice. "I would've thought that he'd jump at the opportunity."
"Van, look at me." Setting her glass down and waited until he reluctantly did the same. "Thomas and I are just friends, and we will remain so. I'm just… I don't want to date anyone else, Van. Nobody else."
'Just you.' The words remained unsaid, but her intent was clear, even though she immediately began drinking again to change the focus. She watched Van, finding that his face was unreadable, and his mind even more so (that Zoidian's skill had never been her forte). Slightly frustrated at his lack of response, so unlike the little kid she'd once known, she began fiddling with her fork absently, glad when the waiter brought up their entrées. Stabbing rather uncharacteristically at the oysters served up, she waited until after finishing her half dozen before addressing him again.
"I'd like to know what your decision is regarding rejoining the Guardian Force. If you'd–"
"Fiona." Frowning at her, he slowly said, "I'd rather we not talk about these things right now. Maybe… maybe later –there'll be plenty of chances– but right now, I'd like us to just enjoy this meal, without anything of the past, or the Guardian Force, or anything. Please."
She stared at him, almost looking as though she was about to cry. Closing her eyes in resignation, she lifted her head up again and smiled. His request surprised her for a moment, but she composed herself gracefully (if not apathetically). "If that's what you'd like, Van." Lifting her lemonade solemnly, she proposed, "To the present."
"To the present."
The rest of the meal was spent talking about mundane things; Fiona was veering away from Guardian Force news, and Van had already gone through the interesting and none-Raven topics in his anecdotes. Eventually, they ended up on a mutual topic: Irvine and Moonbei. The Zoidian explained the nuances of their relationship, from how it officiated to its break-ups to the current stage. It was entertaining, and it was a good way to past time, but from the looks drawn from other customers and from the uneasiness, in her own heart, she knew what was wrong.
Because there was something intrinsically wrong about a couple on a date spending time avoiding talking about themselves at all cost, and speculating over another couple. Except that…
Except that…
"Wow, I didn't think I'd ever say this, but that dessert has me completely filled," laughed Van. "I can't even fit a second helping like a normally do, which is probably good since I doubt an overzealous freak like O'Connell would wonder in and hand me cash at a moment like this."
"Probably not," she agreed. "Are you really full?"
"No doubt about it. I couldn't eat a hazelnut right now, let alone another slice of double chocolate mousse cake."
"That's really too bad," mused Fiona, picking up a gift bag she'd been toting the whole evening. She pushed it over to the staring pilot and added, "I had this brought in from the Republic, since they seem to be out of stock around here at the moment. It can't fly, but–"
"Are you serious!" asked Van, pulling a box out of the bag and tearing away the wrapping. With the care often (usually) afforded expensive china, he pried open the shoebox's lid and lifted out his prize in awe. Turning, he waved enthusiastically for a waiter to bring over a knife and fork; when this was done, he began to slice the item into pieces and slurp up all the excess juice happily. Finished, he offered his guest a piece.
"I brought it especially for you, Van," she whispered. "Eat it."
Not needing a second prompting, he began to demolish the entire thing at record speed, and was done in a matter of five minutes. The skins were all neatly gnawed, leaving not a scrap of actual edible papaya, and the juice had been licked clean off the plate. Throughout the whole exercise, Fiona watched approvingly, and handed him a napkin when the last morsel disappeared. He accepted gratefully.
"Man, you're a lifesaver, Fi," he exclaimed, wiping his mouth and patting his stomach. "I haven't eaten one of those in… a while…" Shaking his head, he muttered, "But I'm really full now."
"It's still early. We should go out for a walk."
"Right. Waiter!"
He paid the bill with a hefty tip on top, and quickly joined Fiona at the door, seeing her impatience to leave; the place was rapidly filling to squished. Outside, they passed several clubs just opening up and other restaurants, but crossed the road to the park instead. Sitting on a bench, Van grinned. "Thanks for just hanging out with me, Fi. It was great. Just like old times." He yawned and leant back against the wood.
"It was," she replied, watching him raptly. "Are you tired?"
"Yeah… just a little bit. Must have been running around too much today…"
"You should go to sleep then."
"Yeah…"
Settling against the bench and her shoulder, the pilot abruptly fell into a deep slumber. Fiona waited for ten minutes, smiling in reply to the knowing giggles and whispering of people walking past. Then, she hailed a taxi and hauled her sleeping companion in, before giving the man her hotel address. As the vehicle drove off and the driver turned up the radio, the Zoidian made sure that he was not listening as she turned on her cell phone and dialed a number.
"Thomas? Come and pick me up at my hotel. Yes. Van's with me. Right. I'll see you then."