Little Star

In which Mokuba is the fairy godmother figure, and I perhaps slipped a little too far into comedy.

Chapter Three.

12 o'clock.

As far as Fridays went at Les Femmes Fatales, it was crazy. There was a bachelor party going on in our largest private room which, thankfully, I was not working. The stools were crowded around the bar at one end of the club, and the three catwalks at the other. The three large booths at the wall furthest from the entrance, the ones used for big groups, were teeming with college boys - thank god, no one I recognised. Business men happy to send off the working week crowded the tables in the centre floor.

We were packed. There was actually a queue outside the door. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that if I work in a strip club at all, at least I work in a classy place. The girls were friendly. More than one, like me, was trying to work her way through college. Some were solo mothers. Some wanted dancing careers. Some just liked the attention. None of them did any more than strip, and most of the stripping was reasonably tasteful. No one was walking around in just their birthday suits, and no one was doing anything more than getting naked.

Or to be blunt, we have a strict No Whores policy.

It was a place for rich dads to take their sons when celebrating their transition into manhood, god help us all. A comfortable, non-offensive, almost family environment, and I was right in the middle of it in high heel shoes that were arching my feet in a very uncomfortable manner, but did wonders to accentuate my calf muscles, clad, as they were, in high, sheer pantihose.

I was spinning away from the bar with a tray full of full beer bottles when the main entrance flew open - something it hadn't done it about an hour. On his last break fifteen minutes ago, Maurice the bouncer, a giant man who didn't need to bother carrying a gun, had told me there were still plenty of eager gentlemen waiting out there to patronise our fine establishment. However, we couldn't let them in until some of our current customers ran out of money and crawled home, and so far, the cash was still flowing about as hard and fast as the alcohol was. Whatever space we had left was emergency VIP space. Sorry, anyone who is in my communications and culture class, but you're stuck in the cold in case someone socially important shows up.

That is, of course, how I knew when the doors flew open that someone fitting that description must have been making an entrance. So did everyone else, and heads turned away even from Chibi, who was bending her body around the pole on the centre stage in a way that probably should have been impossible.

And it was, of course, Mokuba Kaiba. Not just Mokuba. Mokuba and Mokuba's entourage, though they were sort of hidden behind him. He stood in the doorway, checking what space was available, and I think even Chibi hesitated in her contortionism.

I really was going to have to ask him about leather. I'd think they were his only pants, except these ones were obviously not the same pair I'd seen him in previously. They were slit the entire way from hem to hip, only held together at intervals by leather ties that dangled down where the outside seam should have been. From underneath a black suit jacket, I glimpsed a sheer grey top like a sprinkling of glitter over his chest.

Mokuba tipped forward his black-banded, grey fedora-style hat and stepped into the room with a flourish.

I told you we were a stylish place.

The rest of the room seemed to give a collective eye-roll and go back to their hollering, drinking, chatting and stripping. Mokuba winked at me as he walked past, at which point I remembered table four was expecting their drinks. I plastered my work smile on and waited for his friends to finish crossing in front of me so I could deliver my trayload. It turned into a genuine smile as the thought flitted through my brain - I tried to quash it, honestly - that perhaps no one had told our newest arrivals about the No Whores thing. They went past me in a flutter of feathers and sequins.

In my peripheral vision, as the happy men in suits at table four received their beers and tipped me despite the delay in service, I saw Angela ejecting nine college boys from booth three to make way for our newer, more colourful patrons.

2 o'clock.

I was wrestling with our very stubborn coffee machine when the boss tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned, I saw she had a frown on her face and a paper napkin in her hand. "Mr Moneybags over there wanted me to give you this."

I glanced over to where Mokuba's partners in crime were happily stuffing garters with bills. The denominations, apparently, were a lot higher than a dollar. Mokuba was sitting somewhat aloof in the centre, though he promptly blew a kiss at Angela and me. I took the paper off her, unfolded it, and quickly scanned its contents.

Dear Hot Waitress,
Let's elope to Mexico, or at least go party somewhere else. I don't need to fake a kidnapping to get you out of here, do I? 'Cause I'll do it. Just for you.
- M.

Angela's lips were still pursed in motherly disapproval, so I tried not to giggle. "I'm sorry, Serenity, but with such an important customer I had to give it to you. I will of course tell him that you respectfully decline."

I blinked. Angela appeared to be under the impression Mokuba was making an offer I would be tempted not to refuse. "Uh..." I concentrated on pouring the frothy milk on the top of my two cappuccinos. "...Actually, I kind of know him," I admitted.

"Is that a fact." Oh, that crease in her forehead had to be a bad sign. "You know that generally I don't like people inviting their friends in, Serenity."

Ah, right. "I know, I'm sorry! He just got back in town and, uh..." I trailed off, giving her my best I Don't Know Any Better Aren't I So Cute You Just Wanna Hug Me And Buy Me The New Gackt CD eyes.

Angela suddenly grinned, both relieved and amused, I think. "Honey, if any more of your 'acquaintances' have that much money to spare, you bring 'em all in for one big party. Kiki alone has made over three grand off those guys! She's in the staffroom singing about her kid's college fund."

I loaded my cappuccinos onto a tray with saucers, napkins, spoons and sugar. "Sorry, no others spring to mind right now."

Angela laughed. "So, let me guess: if he wasn't hitting on you from afar, he must be waiting around for you to finish work."

I raised my eyebrows and smiled hopefully. "Probably."

She sighed exaggeratedly. "Get outta here, then, and take your money - I mean, friend - with you."

"Really?"

"Yes, go on."

"Thank you!" I grinned. On the one hand, I needed the money, but on the other I would get to stop serving drinks, on my feet that were killing me, to guys who were now too drunk to politely mask their oggling. "I'll just deliver these coffees, first."

7 minutes past 2.

When I came out from the back with my coat and purse, Mokuba stood up. His little group immediately protested, but without looking back he tossed a rather large wad of cash over his shoulder at them, grabbed my elbow, and steered me across the room.

"You're leaving work with me. Your reputation is now officially besmirched, Ms Wheeler." He held the door for me.

"...What about your other friends?"

"Oh, I only met them tonight."

I blinked and was ushered outside.

10 minutes past 2.

"...You bought me SHOES?" My disbelief was evident in my voice.

"Hell yes, you need some boots for that little outfit there." He wiggled his eyebrows. Mokuba was beginning to kind of scare me.

Boots, indeed. Black leather, knee high and covered in straps and buckles.

"...You didn't get these out of your brother's wardrobe, did you?"

Mokuba snorted. "No, they're not quite THAT bad. You just needed a little punking up. Trust me, they'll look great with your uniform. Now it's time to hit the town."

5 o'clock.

"It's not a BAD place to work. They're nice people. It's just not..." I sighed.

"So why don't you work somewhere else?"

I sighed again. "You try getting a job at college age with no experience. One close to home, and to campus, with a manager willing to bend the hours."

Mokuba poured more coke into a champagne flute for me. I'd definitely had enough to drink, alcohol-wise. Now he was loading me up on sugar. I paused to wonder where the glass had come from, anyway. Probably that basement nightclub we went running out of before that huge, sumo-contender guy with the mullet could pound Mokuba for insinuating his also rather large and tattooed companion was his lover.

"It can't have been your only option."

"Aww, shuddup. Anyway, why were YOU there? Don't tell me you have trouble getting girlfriends."

"I don't have girlfriends. I have golddiggers and scary, fake, gravity-defying boobs."

I giggled. "...That's not very nice."

"No, really, the first time was because Seto kept saying if I kept wearing nailpolish to work he was going to call me Mokubella and tell the media I was getting a sex change."

I almost choked on my coke. It fizzed in my nose; I think I gurgled.

"And obviously the second time was because this totally foxy redhead who I could tell wanted my hot body invited me there."

I was about to lose it.

"...Mokuba?"

I blinked and twisted my head around.

"'Morning, big brother!" the Kaiba in question said, cheerfully.

Seto Kaiba was standing over us. "...What are you doing in a park at five in the morning?"

"What are YOU doing here? You DID get a GPS tracking chip installed in my neck, didn't you?" Mokuba stood. I remained lying on the grass.

"Those are for dogs."

"You think I'm a dog?" Mokuba put one hand to his forehead. "My own brother!"

"Honestly, Mokuba, you - " He sounded exasperated. It was kind of funny. I giggled again and the tower of Kaiba bent down over me. "...Corrupting decent people again, I see?"

"Hi, Seto Kaiba," I heard myself say. Uh oh. There were little lights in my head flashing, Shut up, Serenity! "Thanks for letting me use your phone... Before... Can I feel your biceps?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Mokuba cracked up. "Okay, we'd better take her home," he managed to get out between the gasps for air.

"I bet Duke's biceps are smaller than yours." Okay, that definitely should have been in my head. Bad mouth, bad. Now say something normal: you're right, home sounds like a good idea. "At least I didn't mention his private parts!"

Mokuba almost fell over. Kaiba knelt down and somehow managed to scoop me up.

45 past 5.

I was walking towards me and Duke's apartment complex. I only vaguely remembered falling asleep on Mokuba's shoulder in the car. He was walking me to my door. It was almost like a date, if by 'date' you meant 'outing with an insane leprechaun who was making sure you could walk on your own.' Which I could.

No thanks to those margaritas.

"So, little rebel," Mokuba was saying, "You said somewhere in there that you were majoring in both media and business?"

I nodded.

"Excellent. You'd better let me know your available hours, then."

"...What?" My brief nap on the ride home had sobered me slightly, but not enough to keep me from being confused at that.

"Sounds like the exact qualifications I could use. I'm hiring, you know."

"...For KaibaCorp?"

"No. Remember, I said Seto wanted me to stop wearing nail polish to work? I just stopped working there."

I blinked.

"I'll take your silence as an acceptance of the offer..." We reached the door.

"Duke wanted me to be his secretary."

Mokuba stared at me.

"It was either that or the strip club." No, this wasn't the alcohol talking. Well, maybe a little. "Work for my rich boyfriend in high heels and a little black skirt and bring him coffee, or bring total strangers beer in a degrading uniform."

"Oh, don't worry, there'll still be a degrading uniform involved," Mokuba said lightly, and handed me my coat back. "I'll have my people call your people and set it up."

"You don't know my number."

"I'm a Kaiba." He shrugged and started to walk back to the car. The sun was coming up. From inside his rather swanky, dark blue car, Seto Kaiba was looking at me thoughtfully.

Oh, shit. I turned to go inside, suddenly realising that Duke would be waking up and wondering why the hell I hadn't come home last night. Or at least called. It had been fun to let Mokuba lead me across the city, but I still wasn't any closer to figuring either him or his brother out. Let alone myself.

I was in big trouble.

Setine - Mokuba is kind of stealing the scene in all my stories at the moment. I blame my current Myv obsession. And you for associating the two.

The Summer Stars - I hope this is soon enough for you. Lord knows nothing else of mine is getting updated, and this is getting the least reviews. ;)

Clarity - thank you for your constructive criticism, it's always appreciated; I think I fixed that paragraph. I always revise my content, these days, but am a bit lazy over the technical bits... :$

SerenityMeowth - it's his super power.

DreamerzAngel - glad you liked the first two chapters, and hopefully this one too.

Gelap Gelita - I WILL update BYB soon... Thanks for reading. :)