After some nasty name-callings, foul oaths and French swear words, a broken vase, a huge hole in the wall, MORE foul oaths and French swear words, and two broken windows later, Cagalli and the hairstylist FINALLY reached a compromise. He would only give her a light trim and in turn, the blond wouldn't grumble until the end of the haircut appointment. Now all that was needed was to wash up her face and clean the remnants of the hair trim.
The chairman of PLANT was patiently waiting outside the dining room. After taking some aspirin to cure his throbbing migraine, Athrun's mental calculator considered the cost of damage that had occurred as a product of the wrestling match. He sighed, shaking his head sadly when he saw the broken pieces of a very rare, very priceless porcelain vase on the floor. And it was my favorite one too...
Suddenly, the French hairstylist flung open the door and smiled proudly. "Voila! Mr. Zala, I present to you, the NEW Cagalli Yula!"
The said blond slowly walked out of the improvised beauty parlor. Athrun stood back, silently admiring the new Cagalli. With her new and improved haircut and sparkling clean face, he could now fully appreciate her beautifully shaped face and brilliant golden-brown eyes. He smiled and tilted his head. "Cagalli, you look so...so..."
She grinned up at him expectantly. Beautiful? Gorgeous? Amazingly stunning?
"...So cute!"
WHA---?
Her eyebrow twitched. "Cute? CUTE?" The murderous look in her eyes made Athrun sweat drop and back down a few steps, wondering what he'd done to deserve her wrath this time. "Where's the mirror? Dammit! If that freak show with the stupid blow-dryer made me 'cute', I'm going to get back at him, I swear I am! You'd better run too, Athrun Zala, since YOU'RE the one who made me suffer through this hell! Cute, of all things! That's for a little girl! Oh, crap!"
………………………………………………………….
Undercover Fiancé Wanted, Desperately
Chapter Three
………………………………………………………….
Cagalli's temper tantrum resulted in yet another broken vase (which happened to be Athrun's second favorite one) and a wounded hairstylist suffering from internal hemorrhage. After swearing never again to work for that 'crazy, demented monster who somehow escaped from the sanitarium', the stylist huffed and marched out of the front door before Athrun could advise him to use the backdoor instead. Soundproof walls prevented the sweatdropping chairman and the regretful blond from hearing the horrified screams of the poor hairstylist as he was engulfed into the clutches of screaming raging fangirls.
There was a momentary silence of grieving.
Then Athrun cleared his throat. "Well, now that you've completed step one, it is time to instigate the next step."
The blond looked surprised. "Next step...?"
"That's right. We're going to shop for new clothes."
Cagalli's eye twitched. "What's wrong with the clothes I'm wearing NOW?"
"Let's not start World War III again please. I'd like to keep my remaining household items intact." Athrun gazed meaningfully at his third favorite vase conveniently located on a table next to Cagalli.
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You forgot one thing, Zala. How are we supposed to leave without getting mobbed by a pack of ravenous, testosterone-driven predators waiting to pounce on you as soon as you take one step outside?"
Athrun smirked. "Simple. We'll wear disguises and go out using the secret backdoor. No one will even know it's us."
…………………………………………….
"Err...Mr. Zala, sir, may I have your autograph?"
Athrun sweat dropped as the 27th girl who saw through his 'ingenious disguise' as a mustached man with wire-rimmed glasses and a floppy head shyly walked up to him . He forced a smile on his face and took the autograph book from her. "Sure. Just give me a pen."
As soon as the fan girl left, Cagalli repeated his words mockingly, "No one will even know it's us, huh?"
Athrun shot her an extremely annoyed look. Then he sighed, exasperated. "I don't understand it. I watched all those spy movies and it works all the time! So why do I stick out like a sore thumb?"
"It must be your green eyes and that blue hair of yours," she noted wisely. "Not many people have that kind of physical combination."
He arched an eyebrow. "You mean I look like a mutated freak?"
"Don't be ridiculous. You look---" absolutely swoon-worthily drop-dead gorgeous, exactly what I'd like to eat for dessert, that's how you look "---fine," she finished lamely. Drat. If she'd blurted out what she was thinking, she could kiss her job goodbye. She had to strengthen her resolve! She had to ignore the attraction she was feeling for her appealing boss! She had to STOP STARING at him like a drooling idiot! How could a guy wearing such a ridiculous disguise still look so attractive? It's plain illegal!
She focused her attention on that interesting little speck above his head. "Well, now that we've confirmed that you look like a normal human being, can we resume our journey to whatever place you want us to go to?"
He took off the glasses and the moustache, deciding to give up on acting like an undercover agent. "Sure. We'll head over there. It looks like a good place to start clothes hunting." Athrun pointed to an innocent-looking store across the street, not realizing the two of them were about to cause panic, mayhem and confusion in a mere sixty minutes.
…………………………………………….
"Yzak, old buddy, old pal..."
The president of PLANT Corporations didn't even bother to lift his head up from the paperwork he was buried in. "What is it you want from me this time, Elthman?" asked Yzak in ill-concealed boredom.
Dearka placed a hand over his heart with a wounded expression. "Yzak, I'm hurt. How could you say that? Maybe I'm just dropping by for a quick visit. Or maybe I just miss seeing your face. Or maybe---"
"Right; and MAYBE I'm donating all my money to charity and then jumping off a cliff without a parachute." Yzak's lips twisted sarcastically. "You ALWAYS use that saccharine tone when you want something. And that something usually involves me sticking out my neck under an axe for you."
The tanned blond smirked. "Well, this time you don't have to worry about the welfare of your precious neck. In fact, I think you can help me out with this little problem of mine."
"Oh, I'd love to help you out. Which way did you come in?"
Dearka ignored the sarcastic remark. "See, it's about this girl---"
"Do I look like a relationship guru who dishes out love advice to you?" Yzak deadpanned.
"Of course you don't. But, you know, since you're my closest friend and you live with a woman all you life---"
The Joule narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Let me make three things perfectly clear to your brain damaged head, Dearka. One," he raised a finger, "the only so-called 'woman' in my life is my slightly deranged mother; hardly the ideal female to dig up love counsel materials from. And two," a second finger, "I have my own bachelor pad FAR away from my mother's house. And three," a third finger, "on what frozen day in Hades' do you think I'll ever degrade myself into becoming a psychotherapist for idiots who can't manage their own tangled love lives?"
Dearka smiled weakly. "Err...because we're good friends?"
"...You must be kidding."
"Umm...because of those times I helped arrange blind dates for you?"
"...You must be crazy."
"Err...because if you don't, I won't budge an inch from your office and continue pestering you until you give in?"
Yzak's eye twitched. Short of butchering the blond into tiny little pieces and dumping those pieces somewhere in a garbage disposal, he KNEW Dearka would make good on his word and harass him all day like a buzzing mosquito---only TWICE as irritating. The idea of killing him off was VERY tempting...but not worth the trouble with the police.
The silver-haired man threw a sub-zero glare at his so-called 'friend'. "Fine, you win this round. But next time you hand me this threat, not only will I ignore it, but I won't hesitate to strangle you to death."
Dearka shrugged as if he received death threats from his friends on a daily basis.
Yzak crossed his arms with a mocking smirk. "Now go ahead and don't be afraid to pour out all your love problems. I have a tissue box and an umbrella prepared for every emotional emergency."
…………………………………………….
Athrun had let Cagalli have free rein with her clothing selection, as long as it complied with certain rules. The four golden rules being:
(A) No jeans and T-shirts.
(B) No baggy clothing.
(C) No revealing garments.
And finally, (D) No fake fur coats or any other products relating to furs (he was a proud supporter of the Save the Wild Animals society).
After fifteen minutes of careful selection, Cagalli picked out five outfits that looked promising and headed for the changing booth. Athrun gave her a few minutes to change before he went over to examine her.
Cagalli was standing in front of a floor-length mirror next to the booth, inspecting her appearance with a thoughtful frown. Athrun's gaze fixed on the creamy expanse of skin at her ankle. Up one shapely calf, then knee, before the image disappeared beneath the hemline of a straight black skirt that hugged her hips flawlessly.
"Ugh! I look AND feel like an overstuffed sausage!" Cagalli burst out as she fidgeted with her skirt.
"No, you don't. You look beautiful." Athrun mentally smacked his head when he said that. Hadn't it sunk into his thick skull that Cagalli disliked his compliments?
Shock swept her features, then anger, and Athrun knew he was in for it. But when she opened her mouth, the only thing in her voice was undisguised curiosity. "Really? Why?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"
"No. So what is it about the way I look now as opposed to fifteen minutes ago that made you say that?"
Okay, so she was serious. "You look..." His gaze started at her ankles, and moved upward. He couldn't believe they were having this absurd conversation. All of the women in his past had had plenty of self-confidence when it came to looks. But this woman looked completely oblivious to her sexual appeal...
"Curvy," he blurted out. "Very curvy. The skirt shows off your legs and hips...and your blouse too. It shows off a lot of your---"
What the heck was he SAYING? Were all those disgusting garbage actually spewing out of HIS mouth?
Flush every perverted thought out of your brain, Zala. Think of other things. Think of your paperwork, your contract with ORB, your paperwork, your contract with ORB, your paperwork...
Athrun was locked in a silent combat with his inner depraved self. The blond raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning his sanity. Deciding to give him more space, Cagalli walked into the booth to change into another piece of clothing she'd chosen. She had already pulled off her blouse and skirt when suddenly someone jerked open the drape and grabbed her shirt and jeans.
Cagalli gave a surprised yell, which brought Athrun running. He flung open the curtain and asked worriedly, "Cagalli, what's wro---"
Then he saw it.
Cagalli minus no clothes equals naked Cagalli.
"What the---" Athrun's cheeks flamed and he clamped a hand over his eyes. "I didn't see that! I swear!"
Muttering something about useless men, Cagalli tugged the curtain off and wrapped it around her. She then pushed Athrun away and grabbed the only available weapon she could reach---a red bra in a box full of bras. She grabbed one and raced after the thief.
"Come back here, you bastard!" Cagalli snarled and threw the red bra at the thief. The bra looped around his neck and cut off his oxygen supply.
The thief came to a gasping halt and dropped Cagalli's clothes as he struggled to free himself from the bra closing off his air. Cagalli balled her hand into a fist and slammed it directly against the man's jaw. The poor guy crashed into a wall and slid down into a lifeless heap on the floor.
The blond dusted her hands in satisfaction. "Take THAT, your dirty thief!"
A mob of curious shoppers started to crowd around, wondering what the fuss was about. The manager of the store also bustled into the scene and demanded, "What is going on here?"
"I'll tell you what's going on," Cagalli snapped. "You see here the product of your lack of a good security system and lousy manage---"
"What she means is," Athrun hastily interrupted before her big mouth earned them a ban from ever getting inside the store again, "that she's still in shock over the whole thing."
The manager frowned as he stared at Athrun. Then recognition dawned on him and he gaped in shock. "Y-You're Athrun Zala, aren't you? The chairman of PLANT Corporations?"
The crowd gasped and stared at the infamous chairman. Cagalli inched closer to Athrun protectively, narrowing her eyes at the ogling female shoppers ranging from age twelve to seventy-five already thinking of throwing themselves into his arms. Cagalli's scary expression conveyed a warning that said Keep your filthy gazes off him, ladies. He's MINE!
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Zala, sir! I had no idea how this could have happened! What can I possibly do to make up for it?" Having discovered the emerald-eyed man standing before him was one of the wealthiest and most influential man in Japan, the manager was now practically kissing Athrun's feet.
Athrun looked embarrassed. "Oh, there's no harm done. Just try and tighten your security, alright?"
"No, no, I insist that I give you the clothes you chose for free. And I sincerely hope this won't discourage you from visiting our fine store again." The manager's expression said I don't want to be around if you do come back.
As soon as the clothes were given to them, Athrun and Cagalli made their way out of the store. There was a tense look on Athrun's face. The blond perceived it and sighed. "Okay. What did I do wrong?"
"You hit that man." His tone suggested she'd boiled the man in oil, thrown him into a pit of poisonous snakes and fed his body parts to the scavengers.
Cagalli scowled. "What would you have me do, huh? That lowdown filthy thief was stealing our stuff!"
"Maybe you could've discussed it, given him some options, before you hit him."
"Discussed it?" Cagalli rolled her eyes at the ridiculous suggestion. "Are you out of your freaking mind? What am I suppose to say? Oh, hello, my name is Cagalli. I'm the owner of the clothes you're stealing. Please give them back before you end up in the recuperation ward with a misshapen face and a battered body. Hah! As if!"
"Which proves my point," he interjected. "You're too aggressive."
"I am NOT aggressive! If I wasn't gentle, that thief would already be comatose inside a coffin six feet under!"
"But to pose as my fiancé, you need to act like a gently-bred woman."
Her eyes flashed. "You mean, scream in horror, faint dead away at the first sign of danger and let the men take care of everything? Do I look like a helpless damsel in distress?"
"Of course you don't but---"
Suddenly, something caught Athrun's eye. At first, it looked like a moving dot. Then as it quickly drew closer, he could make out a mass of bodies---bodies that belong to a certain fan club...
Athrun's eyes grew wider than a pair of twin saucers and he pointed behind the fuming blond. "Err, Cagalli---"
"DON'T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT! Now where was I? Oh yes. I'm not that kind of girl. Just because I'm smaller than you and I'm a member of the opposite sex, doesn't mean I'm a weak, defenseless female!"
"Cagalli, look behind you."
The blond rolled her eyes. "Do I look like an idiot to you? I'm not going to fall for THAT trick!"
"No, really! LOOK!"
Finally, Cagalli turned her head and did a double take when she saw the huge---and I mean, HUGE---mass of hormone-afflicted fan girls running in their direction, holding up banners and posters. Only this time, they looked like they were hell-bent on capturing their beloved Athrun, dead or alive, fiancé or no.
"Well, bodyguard, any bright ideas?" Athrun asked, not daring to take his eyes off the raging fan girls fast approaching them.
"Yes, I have one age-old traditional idea. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!"
She grabbed Athrun's collar and together they sped off in the opposite direction.
…………………………………………….
"ACHOO!"
Milly rubbed her nose and sniffled. She was tired, moody and highly irritated. Some of the waitresses and cooks were complaining about the lack of breaks and that their earnings were not enough for the work hours. Some even threatened to leave and join the newly-built café across the street. It was up to Milly and a few loyal employees to fill in their shoes temporarily for the evening shift. Look who's the one who's REALLY working overtime, she fumed as she mopped the floors. Some people just don't appreciate what they have...
She sneezed again. "ACHOO! Oh God, don't tell me I have the flu?"
"Milly!"
The girl in question almost died from cardiac arrest. She gripped the mop in her hand tightly, resisting the incredibly powerful urge to whack the too-familiar blond over the head until he died of blood loss.
Glaring with supreme dislike at the congenitally clueless sub-human who was living proof that man CAN live without a brain, Milly snarled, "What do you want, Elthman? Have you marked today as 'let's-torture-Milly-just-for-the-heck-of-it' day in your calendar? Isn't it enough that you insulted me this morning and harassed me over the phone?"
The evil look in her eyes lost their effect when she suddenly sneezed again.
Dearka Elthman grinned, hands clasped behind his back. "I just dropped by for a visit, that's all. You seem to work three times harder than most. I'm sure you must be lonely working in the evening shift. So I came to keep you company."
Milly gritted her teeth. "Don't worry. I think of you when I'm lonely. Then I am content to be alone."
The insufferable blond looked hurt. "Milly, you act as if I'm the worst person who ever walked the earth."
"Oh no. You aren't the worst person who ever walked the earth, but until someone worse comes a long, you'll do."
Dearka sighed dramatically. "All I wanted was to give you a few moments of joy."
"Is your middle name Laryngitis? Because instead of joy, you give me a BIG pain in the neck!"
"Ah, I'm afraid it isn't," Dearka said with a mild shrug. "Anyway, I just came by because I wanted to apologize AGAIN for supposedly harassing you. Truly, I mean you no harm. But I can't help myself. I enjoy the pleasure of your company."
She smiled oh-so-sweetly. "I would love the pleasure of your company as well, but it only gives me displeasure." She sneezed again, and he asked in concern, "Hey, are you alright?"
"It's nothing much. I'm just suffering from an influenza spread by a certain 'virus' standing in front of me." She gave the 'virus' a glare of doom.
Dearka smirked. "It's alright, Milly. I understand you're hopelessly infatuated with my charm, but you don't have to hide it behind a mask of hate."
She sighed exasperatedly. "I've had many cases of love that were just infatuation, but this hate I feel for you is the real thing."
He smiled and shook a finger. "Now, now, Milly, I have something to give you. So let's not start a battle of wits between us."
"There IS no battle of wits between you and me. I never pick on an unarmed man."
Dearka cleared his throat and began the speech he'd been rehearsing in his head. "I realize that over the few weeks we've known each other, I've been a constant source of irritation to you---"
"Pardon me, but you've obvious mistaken me for someone who gives a damn." She went on mopping, pretending she didn't hear him.
"---and I know that you've put up with me for too long. And I think it's time we reach a truce..."
"Keep talking. I always yawn when I'm interested."
"...And as a symbol of my apology, I've taken the liberty of buying you this." The blond withdrew the 'gift' he had been hiding behind his back and held out a bouquet of beautiful, fresh yellow roses.
The auburn-haired girl gaped at him for a stunned moment. Dearka smirked, thinking that he'd finally won over the headstrong girl who'd kept him at arm's length for so long. And with something so simple too! He should have done this a long time ago.
Hmm...Looks like Yzak was right, after all...
----------
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN YZAK AND DEARKA IN HIS OFFICE
A flashback in one act, written and directed by Dearka's subconscious mind
Yzak: ...So let me get this straight, you're 'in love' with a girl named Milly. And she's turned you down...how many times?
Dearka: 346 times.
Yzak: (Raises an eyebrow) You've been counting?
Dearka: (Grins sheepishly)
Yzak: (Smirks) I don't really blame her. At least the girl has taste. And if this is a case of 'opposites attract', I'd say she's also attractive, intelligent and cultured.
Dearka: (Looks insulted) Hey, you ARE trying to help me, aren't you?
Yzak: I'm simply pointing out the obvious. Besides, why do you keep crawling back to her for more abuse? You'd think after the 346th time she humiliated you, you'd finally realize she doesn't like you and move on by now. Or do you need her to buy a blackboard and spell it out to you in big capital letters?
Dearka: I told you. It's because---
Yzak: (Rolls eyes) Yes, yes, yes, I know. You're a man who always sticks by his convictions and doesn't give up without a fight and you will remain a fool no matter how much you get ridiculed for it.
Dearka: ...That hurt.
Yzak: (Sarcastic) The truth always hurts. Now to business. It's actually very easy to win the heart of a female. I'll give you a hint that even your feeble mind can comprehend. The alphabet starts with the letter 'F' and it's something bees need to produce honey.
Dearka: (Snaps his fingers) That's easy. Flowers! But...Milly isn't like any other girl.
Yzak: (Irritated) Are you always this stupid or are you making a special effort today? It's an unwritten rule in the book of life that ALL women are suckers for flowers. Buy her bouquet of flowers and proclaim your undying love for her, and she'll fall into your arms without a second thought.
Dearka: That sounds almost TOO easy. Yzak, where the hell do you get these ideas?
Yzak: I have a mother to appease. That alone gives me some ideas. Now, why don't you head on over to your little girlfriend's home and shower her with your annoying attention and leave. Me. Alone!
Dearka: (Happily leaves office. Then turns and shoots Yzak a questioning look) Err...by the way, I've always wondered and since you mentioned it...how come you ignored the attention of every interested female I've forced you into blind dating with? Does it mean the rumors I heard are true? That you're...gay?
Yzak: (Eye twitches. Smiles evilly) Dearka, would you like to play a game with me?
Dearka: (Interested) What kind?
Yzak: This game is called 'let's play house'. You be the door and I'll slam you!
----------
After Yzak kicked him out of the office and threatened to castrate the blond if he ever barged in again with some stupid problem OR try to contaminate the Joule's breathing space with mental diarrhea, Dearka headed straight for the best florist in Japan. An hour was spent choosing the right flowers, a minute calling if Milly was home, and then fifteen minutes making his way to the café...
...Which brings us back to the present.
In his fantasy, Dearka fully expected Milly to swoon at his feet and thank him from the bottom of her heart for the flowers. Then he'd ask her out for a date and she'd eagerly accept. Finally, he'd cast his 'Elthman charm' on her and by the end of the night he'd have her eating out of his hand.
It was a one-hundred-percent full proof plan!
BUT he miscalculated one little detail...as demonstrated when Milly pinched the bridge of her nose, snatched the bouquet of roses from Dearka's startled hands and proceeded to bash his head with it.
"ELTHMAN, YOU MORON, I'M ALLERGIC TO FLOWERS!"
…………………………………………….
Cagalli and Athrun were running like their legs were on fire. They had no idea where they were running to or which direction they were taking. When the blond glanced backward, she was surprised to see the Athrun-obsessed fans were gaining on them. Amazing, what the power of love could do to your metabolism.
The two turned into an alley. They came to a screeching halt when they faced a large brick wall. It was a dead-end.
"Retract!" Athrun did an about-turn.
"ATHRUN, ATHRUN, WE LOVE YOU!"
It was too late to turn back. The fan girls had almost reached the only exit they have.
They were trapped like helpless rats.
"YOU'RE SO COOL, ATHRUN!"
"L-O-V-E, ATHRUN, WE LOVE YOU!"
"ATHRUN, BE MINE!"
The chants and screeches were coming closer. The chairman looked absolutely freaked out. He gulped and glanced at the blond-haired girl. "Can you fight them off?"
She sent him a look of death. "Who's the one who lectured me about being, I quote, 'too aggressive'?"
"Unbelievable! Cagalli, we're in the middle of an urgent crisis here. This is NOT the time to recite quotes! I repeat, can you fight them off?"
She rolled her eyes heavenward. "I'm a bodyguard, not Superman! Trust me, I'd be using my laser-eye vision to disintegrate them by now if I could!"
He exhaled deeply. "Then we'll have to resort to Plan B."
"Great. What's Plan B?"
"...I'll tell you as soon as I can think of one."
"Well, think FAST, Einstein, because we're running out of time!"
Cagalli dropped the shopping bags and grabbed a broken piece of wood out of a garbage can, prepared to stand her ground and fight to her last breath. Athrun, on the other hand, had no intention of losing his life just yet. After all, he had a company to run, paperwork to finish, contracts to sign...
"ATHRUN, ATHRUN, ATHRUN!"
The flood of screaming fan girls poured into the alley. They stopped when they noticed Cagalli and every one of them shared identical looks of homicidal intent.
Cagalli swung the wood like a baseball bat. "Come within swinging distance to us, and you'll get free passes to Kingdom Come," she growled.
One of the fan girls sneered, "We're not afraid of you, witch!"
"Yeah!" Another Athrun fanatic glowered at her. "We know all about your evil plan to seduce and blackmail our darling Athrun. Well, your wicked intentions will NEVER succeed! We'll protect Athrun with our united strength and save him from your evil clutches!"
Cheers and agreements amongst the fans.
"Besides," snarled a fan girl, "I bet you aren't even his REAL fiancé! I bet you somehow brainwashed him into thinking he was in love with you! There's nothing about you that could attract someone as handsome and dashing as our Athrun, you Amazon!"
Cagalli gnashed her teeth and prepared to swing her makeshift bat.
Things were turning really ugly really fast.
Athrun cracked his brains for some idea---ANY idea! After some high-speed brain blasting, he finally cooked up a plan that would have made Dearka proud.
True, it was desperate. It was insane. It might even get him murdered.
But it was a risk he had to take.
Please don't club me over the head for this, Cagalli...
"What are you talking about?" Athrun gave a strained smile to his fan girls and placed his arm around Cagalli's waist. "Of course I'm in love with her. Cagalli is my life. And if you don't believe us, we'll show you the truth in the most fundamental way we know how."
"Zala, what the heck do you think you're---"
Cagalli didn't have the chance to finish her sentence because right there, smack dab in a dead-end alleyway, before God, man, fan girls and the stray dog across the street, Athrun lowered his head and kissed her.
…………………………………………….
(TBC)