Authorís Notes: Yes, alright, I AM taking a break from Call Me Kenichi
for a while...

Kenichi: A while? Itís been like 8 years!

Author: Yeah, why donít you go have another cigarette.

Kenichi: Hmmm, I guess I could...

Author: Anyway, rest assured I will be continuing it eventually. Enjoy chap. 3

Disclaimer: Que-est ce que c?est?

îAlright, Iíve shown you the dinning hall, the ball room, the greenhouse, the lecture hall, the announcement hall, the offices, the board rooms, we walked in on some board meetings, the kitchen... letís see...î Duke Red furrowed his brow as he was deep in thought. He snapped his fingers. ìAh yes! My office! Come, this way!î He put his arm around my shoulder, in a friendly fashion
of course, and led me down the vast hallway to the elevator. It was obvious he couldnít go anywhere without being followed. A simple tour around the Ziggurat attracted the attention of the Dukeís two body guards along with three other right hand men.

Actually, to tell you the truth, I was only being toured around the second top half of the miraculous building, floors forty through eighty. There was
some political press circling my vicinity that the Ziggurat was not just a government building. Iíve also heard rumors that there are military weapons and
training floors reserved for Marduks. Well, theyíre not rumors anymore, this paranoia and secrecy with which this powerful man keeps floors off limits just feeds the fire and leads me to believe all too well that something is up.

However, Iíve known this for a while, but have held my tongue. The Duke notices this, and has taken a particular shine to me. I donít blab his secrets, he allows me to share in the luxuries of his fabulous life. Anyway, the topics are taboo, and any mention of them creates an unwelcome atmosphere. So for now, Iíll just sit back and enjoy the ride. Besides, heís not doing anything that would hurt anyone. So whatís the problem? Yessiree, the Duke and I have an unstable friendship that can turn into an all out war at the drop of a hat.

Thatís politics for ya.

We got to the elevator and one of Duke Redís body guards pressed the top button. I watched the light blink and then come to a stop as the doors opened. Standing there, dressed in the presented uniform, was a young (very young!)Marduk with curly brown hair. He was wearing sunglasses and was carrying a folder of papers in his hand. He put his other hand over his mouth and yawned.

îRock!î

Rock jumped ten feet at hearing the Dukeís booming voice.
îF- father!î The papers he was carrying fell all over the floor.

îHere, I got them...î I knelt down and helped the young man pick up the possessions heíd dropped. He kept his eyes toward the floor and worked diligently, quickly, obviously greatly embarrassed by the situation.

One of the Dukeís body guards held the elevator door open with his arm as the Duke stood behind them, shoulders heavy, his arms behind his back.

îDonít help him, Minister, heís not a little boy anymore, he can do it himself.î

îUmmm...î I didnít know what to say. Apparently the Duke was very short with his son. Luckily, Rock managed to pick up all the papers before I had a chance to open my mouth.

Rock brushed past me and stood infront of his father. He bowed. He bowed with the loyalty of a servant, and with the grace of a... well a princess. He straightened his body upright once more and attempted to walk down the vast
hallway to the Mardukís reserved living quarters.

îYouíre forgetting something...î

The young man stopped in his tracks, turned around, and walked briskly over to where I stood next to the Duke. He bowed.

îThank you for your help, sir. Itís an honor to finally meet you.î

I felt awkward being spoken to with such character and grace. I felt important, tall, like I could step on this young man with my foot and squash him like a bug. I looked over at the Duke, hoping that heíll give me some hint about what to do. I was at a complete loss for words.

He merely smiled, his head tilt up, looking down at Rock with judgmental eyes.

I nodded my head. ìUm, sure. No problem.î

He straightened his body once more and faced the Duke.

îThank you, father.î

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Duke tense and his eyes narrow. I looked back down the hall at Rockís silhouette growing ever smaller until he turned a corner and was gone. We stepped into the elevator. I watched the Dukeís body guards bow down toward him until the doors closed and the two of us where secured in the box for the long ride up to his office.

We were silent for a moment until I decided to break the ice, which we all know is a bad idea

îYour son Rock is a fine young...î

îHeís not my son.î

îOh. But he called you...î

îI know what he called me. Donít ever listen to him.î

I locked my jaw and didnít open it again until we got to our desired floor.

ìAh! Here we are...î He walked out ahead of me and down a vast hallway. Two giant wooden doors with gold embroidery were waiting for us at the end. I followed, obiediantly, I didnít dare wander. Two other separate guards were standing at full attention outside the magnificent room, waiting with loyalty for their master to approach. They opened the giant doors and Duke Red lead me into his eagleís nest, so to speak.

It was a masterpiece, something out of a fairytale. Gold and silver and jewels. It was magical. The room stretched out vastly to an enormous glass wall overlooking the city, his city. I didnít even dare crane my head up to look at the ceiling. I wasnít ready.

ìThis right here is my desk, used for working, of course, and sometimes for sneaking in a quick nap when no oneís around.î He laughed at his own joke, but I didnít hear him.

ìSir?î

I turned quickly, and walked over to where he stood. ìSorry...î I must have been distracted by a picture on the wall. A pretty girl with gold curls.

I moved quickly over to where he was standing but stopped short. My eyes fell on the gleaming wood and ivory that was his desk. I ran my hand along the surface, enjoying how it felt. I could feel his eyes on my hand, and I could see his face now. Proud, smug, a look that said, ìYes! Thatís my rich, expensive desk! You want to touch it, donít you?î And I did want to touch it, which surprised me, because Iíve never found desks to be sexually arousing before

As euphoric as my handís trip was, I had to stop short when I brushed my hand up against a framed picture, knocking it over. A low noise abrupted from deep inside the Duke, but before I could take any caution in that warning, I picked up the picture from where it fell and scrutinized it. A pretty girl with gold curls.

ìThis your daughter?î Of course I didnít need to ask, I could tell immediately. They looked exactly alike.

ìYes, but...î

ìMy goodness, sheís gorgeous! Like an angle! You must be very proud.î

He stared at me for a moment, as if he were in shock. I didnít think I said anything wrong. After all, isnít it almost implied that you compliment somebody's child?

I was glad when I saw a small smile form across his face, and his eyes soften. He walked over to me and grasped the picture out of my hands. A little too quickly, a little too abruptly.

ìYes, I am.î

ìIím tired of this bullshit, Skunk...î

Oh no. It was the goons.

ìYou come back to your office late, if youíre ever in there at all, you snoop around, and you barely tell us anything.î

ìNot to worry gentlemen, I...î

ìYouíre fucking around, arenít you Kusai?î

I sighed and let my pen drop to the table. I put my head in my hands and messaged my temples as I listened to their voices drone in and out over my hunched body.

Man #1: I heard he gave away top secret information to the Dukeís military of Marduks.

Man #2: Really? I heard they were both in on scheme together.

Through the ever thickening voices of co-workers, I could scarcely make out a familiar voice heading my way, and for once, was very happy to see the man in which that voice belonged to.

ìOkay, listen up people! Iím doing lunch orders today because Sandra is still on maternity leave, so I need the money now if you...î

Man #1: Donít you have something more important you should be working on, Lamp?

ìWhat, you mean like the relationship Iím building up with your wife?î

Zing.

Man #1: You son of a...!

A fist grazed the air, making a sharp whistle as it sped through the open space. Lamp, making a high pitched noise, ducked out of the way and ran behind a bookcase. Not being someone to win fights, or get caught in a fight for that matter, he scooted over to the open door.

ìSkunk!î He called from the door. ìCome to my office, I need to talk with you about something!î And with that, he was gone.

I was left staring at the empty space in the door, not sure what to make of the scene that took place infront of me. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it couldnít have been that important. I opened up my laptop and resumed typing.

Man #2: I donít like that guy, he just takes up space. I mean, does anyone know what his job is?

I laughed under my breath. Does Lamp even know?

Man #1: Next time I see that little gremlin Iím gonna pull out his eyes.

It was 10. At night. I rummaged around at my desk looking for my aspirin to bring home with me, my eyes focused out the window as my hand did the blind work. Lamp works in another building than me, but itís still part of the same facility. Our offices are directly across from each other, he in district 11, me in district 10. In his office, the light was still on, and I could scarcely see his silhouette sitting at his desk. He was doing... something. Thatís for sure, though I couldnít make it out. I gave up and looked down at my desk, snatching the aspirin.

Outside, the summer night invaded my lungs. It was sweet but sticky. I raised my hand to call for a cab, but gravity was particularly strong tonight, and my arm did not have the strength. My hand dropped to my side. I looked up and over to the separate building, that single light taunting me, glowing brighter each time I looked at it. I crossed the street and opened the doors.

The air conditioner was turned off, of course, because most of the people had already gone home. I walked to the elevator and pressed 32. On the long ride up I chuckled to myself, being reminded of the afternoon I spent with the Duke yesterday. Of course this time it wasnít an awkward silence because no one else was in the moving box with me. I blushed, but the smile did not leave my face.

When I got off, I had to stop for a moment and remember which number his office was.

ì1,469.î

I quickly walked down the hall, my strides long and fierce. Part of me was angry. Angry that this stupid gesture had captured my interest, making me anxious to see what was going on. Angry because I make a big deal out of everything, not being able to help it. Like this. Chances are, heís probably still working. But I always manage to conjure up the worst possible scenarios.

I found his office and swung the door open. I donít bother knocking anymore. Iím probably the one person who has earned the right not to.

He didnít look up right away. I could tell by the way he was slouching, calm and comfortable, that he knew it was me. He was looking at something in his lap, so naturally, my eyes followed.

A cootycatcher.

A homemade one at that. Probably something he constructed while bored, which he always seemed to be.

Except when I was around.

His hands moved playfully inside the paper, probably to a rhyme he was reciting in his head. It was strangly relaxing. Lamp always did odd things, but this, I didnít know what to think. It was moronic, yet... sweet.

I felt his gaze on me, and moved my eyes up to meet his. He was smiling, but it wasnít his normal happy face staring back at me. He looked worn and tired. My toes moved nervously inside my shoes, not sure how to break the ice. Lamp and I arenít friends. Friends would never have this problem.

So here goes.

ìWhatís up?î

He furrowed his brow, obviously insulted.

ìI donít know what you mean.î He rumaged through papers on his desk, trying to look like he was doing something.

ìWhy didnít you jump when I slammed the door?î

ìI heard you walking down the hall.î

ìHow did you know it was me?î

He shrugged. ì I guess I just know your walk.î

ìThatís bullshit. You canít KNOW somebodyís walk.î

ìYeah, but I was right.î

ìIt could have been anyone... it didnít NEED to be me... it doesnít always fucking need to be about me...!î

ìWhy are you mad?î

I threw my briefcase into the wall. It hit a vase on the way down, sending the two things crashing to the floor. A dent in the wall and brocken glass littered around his desk.

His smile had vanished, replaced by a look that was simply unreadable.

ìYouíre full of shit, Lamp! Full of shit! Just tell me what you want and quit fucking around! No more of these games! Fuck all of these games! Iím tired of the bullshit...!î

He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He was angry. It was one of the first times I had ever seen him angry, and it gave me a certain respect for him, if only for a couple of seconds. Here I was trying to scare him with an outburst, and he shot back with a look of wisdom and maturity. Like he was expecting this and knew exactly what to do.

I looked over to the wall. I messed it up good. my eyes moved to the floor and gazed on the painted glass, a masecre of flowers. This was a big deal. I felt like a child, like I was ten again. And Lamp was the adult about to lecture me. I didnít expect this. I didnít want this. It was kind of funny, if not a bit ironic.

ìI want that cleaned up.î

ìFuck you.î

He laughed.

ìTell me what you want.î

ìI WANTED to go out to lunch with you...î

ìPfft!î

ì...but itís a little too late for that. How ëbout dinner?î

I knelt down and started picking up the bigger pieces of glass, all the while mumbling incoherently under my breath. Iíd get the smaller pieces with a vacum or something. See theyíre too small to pick up with your fingers, and they kinda get stuck in the carpet. So even if you manage to pick up all the little pieces you can find, there are still a million others hiding in the carpet that you didnít see. So you walk barefoot in your office and then Whammo!...

ìSo how about it?î

ìItís 10:30.î

Technically that wasnít an answer to his question, so he still kept his eyes on me. But I picked up glass. When it was obvious I wasnít about to answer him, he picked up the cootycatcher.

ìPick a number! Ummmm, 7! 1-2-3-4...î

ìPut that down...î

ì5-6-7. Pick a color! Purple. P-U-R-P-L-E. Will Skunk go out with me?î

He lifted up the flap. I held my breath.

He read the words, and then crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash.

ìWait... what did it say?î

ì ëTry again in an hour.í Anyway it doesnít matter,î he got up and put his jacket on, ìIím taking you out for Chinese.î

ìI donít like Chinese.î I threw the glass in the garbage.

ìYeah, but youíll like this place.î

I threw my hands up in the air and looked around the room, as if to get a glance from a person or anything that would share my opinion about how rediculous this was.

ìGo to dinner with me, Skunk.î

It wasnít a question. I stared at the ground.

I looked out the window of the cab. The sidewalk was going by way too fast, and it made me nervous. I watched people walking down the street. Everbody was taking off their jacket, fanning themselves with their hands. It was humid this night, but it was nice in the cab. It was cool. It made me wish the ride would never end, so I woundnít need to step outside into the steam. So I wouldnít need to eat fried rice and dumplings.

ìJust for the record,î I said to Lamp, ìIím only doing this ëcause I feel bad for ruining your wall.î

ìMmmm...î He was gazing out the window, looking at the passing cars, but not seeing them. His face looked tired, his eyes squinting and his jaw tight. His smile gone. He was thinking about something, but it probably wasnít important. He didnít strike me as a person who dwells on things too long, or who worries. He kept his body completely still, even while sitting in a cramped cab. Me, I have to move my feet around, twich my hands, or scrunch up my toes. Itís a nervouse habit. But Lamp always has the ability to look comfortable, no matter what position heís thrust into. I turned away and looked out the window, my leg bouncing rapidly up and down. I thought of the Duke.

The place was called ìMadam Woks,î so I know itís gonna suck. It was a small resturaunt tucked behind a bank in the less rural part of Top Gate. Lamp stopped when he got to the door and whiped his feet.

ìI go here all the time,î he said, ìbecause I live close by.î He tapped the last of the dirt from his shoes and stepped in, me close behind.

We got a seat by the window and I was glad. Looking outside makes me feel less trapped. Plus, a draft was coming in through the cracks of the glass, and it felt nice in the hot resturaunt. Lamp took his jacket off and put it next to him on the booth. ìYou know why itís nice going to a place like this?î

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him.

ìItís nice because people think they recognize you from T.V, but then they think well why would someone famous come to a crap-shack like this? After a while they just assume youíre a look alike.î

I turned around and looked at the kitchen. It was the kind that is open for public viewing, so you can tell when your food is ready. I heard screaming and pans sizzling, lots of movement and busy work.

ìYou hungry?î

I shrugged.

ìAre you gonna talk to me at all?î

ìThis isnít my fault. I didnít want to come.î

ìYou could have told me that.î

ìNo I couldnít!î

He looked confused.

ìIf I said that, you would have tricked me or something, with your mind games. You would have trapped me into going. Or made me feel guilty.î

The waitress brought water.

ìI would have ended up going anyway.î

ìWell,î he took a sip of water and then put it down again, ìletís just let karma be karma, hm?î

ìWhat does karma have to do with anything?î

ìYou ruined my wall and now youíre paying for it.î

I couldnít come back with anything that would have topped that.

We both ordered shrip with rice. I had a beer, Lamp was content with his water. I chewed, and looked out the window.

ìItís good, isnít it?î

ì...î

ìYouíre thinking about the Duke, arnít you?î

ìYes.î

ìWow! Youíre not passive at all, are you?î

ìI knew that was coming, I was just bracing myself for it.î

ìAfter all, this is what the whole ëdinner dateí is about, right?î

ìYouíre no different from everyone else.î

ìWhat do you mean?î

ìI canít tell you anything about that administration. And besides, what makes you think youíre any more special? Why would I choose to tell you? Give me one good reason.î

ìI donít expect you to tell me anything. I mean, figuring out what that guyís up to isnít really my first priority.î

ìWell, then why am I here?î

ìSkunk, Iím so jealous of him.î

ìWho isnít? I mean heís got everything. Heís got anything anyone could ever want.î

ìBut I only want one thing that he has.î

ìWhat, his helicopter?î

Lamp choked. Water from his mouth went back into the glass. He coughed, he laughed, I wasnít really sure which one. When he caught his breath again, he put his glass down and looked at me, love on his face. He beamed, happy and amused. As quick as he could, before I could even guess what was happening, he put his hand on top of mine. Two creatures entwined on the table next to the shrimp shells. I looked at him, his face so happy. This was all he had. I left my hand under his, feeling warm fingers massage my knuckles.

The waitress came over, a tray of fortune cookies in her grasp. I snatched my hand back, quickly, before she could see, and returned it to its hiding place under the table. He left his on top of the table. Naked, vulnerable, and exposed.

The tray was placed down before us. I grabed the chocolate cookie before he could reach it.

ìGreat...î He slowly moved to pick up the manilla colored one. I opened mine, and took out the slip of paper that was nestled in the center.

ìWassit say?î

I squinted my eyes, trying my best to read in the dim lights.

ìLucky numbers: 1-4-6-9î

Lamp leaned back. Content.

Iíd love some feedback. Sorry again for the wait.