BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! "Oh god is that my watch again?" she thought as she yawned and stretched. She shook her head and chuckled, picking up the alarm and turning it off for the day. Amaya didn't think to move off the bed yet; instead she pulled up her sheet closer to her and lay there with eyes open thinking of the previous night. A small smile soon appeared, and she buried her face in her pillow and grinned into the softness. She was being silly; she knew it without thinking about it too much. It was just some guy she'd met on the street. Nothing special. She met men everyday who wanted to talk to her. But as she got up and began to take her clothes off for her morning shower she paused and thought, "But I actually wanted this one to talk to me." She stepped into the shower and remembered that she didn't hear his footsteps approaching from a distance. "He just seemed to appear."
The cold water hit her body, and she forgot about his footsteps. Instead she thought of the advertisement. Aside from a miniature drop of wine on the top edge of the paper, she had finished it. Today she would present it to the rest of her team and go on to the second step that would include transferring the idea over to her computer.
Stepping out of the shower a few minutes later, she looked down at her clothes for the day and sighed. "Another day in heels", she thought and started to pick up her blouse. When the white top was buttoned down she picked up the black slacks and zipped them up carefully while frowning in the mirror at her backside.
"If this was Miami I could actually find a pair of pants to fit my ass", she thought as she finished putting the pants on. The heels soon followed and then she was left the task of makeup. Carefully choosing her colors, she put on a small amount of clear gloss on her lips, almost no powder, and heavy amounts of eyeliner.
"Ah, my one weakness", she said and laughed while picking up the liquid eyeliner.
Amaya looked at herself one final time and headed out the door, sketchbook and work bag in hand. She walked through the quiet hallway and pressed the button for the elevator. While waiting, a new idea for a drawing glided into her mind like a cat would into an alley. She giggled to herself and stepped into the empty elevator.
oooo
Lunch drew near, and Amaya gathered the folder with her newly polished advertisement and headed down to the café were she would soon meet with one of the color specialists of the company. Her stomach growled and she hurried the rest of the way. Becky sat at her usual corner with a latte already in hand, and a scone below her on her plate. Amaya swore she'd never seen the woman eat anything else. She put down her folders on the table and said hello. Becky looked up from her magazine and smiled.
"Alright, what have you got for me today?" She said and cleared the table of everything.
"Well, you know how Saab has introduced their new line—". And then she saw the suit, the same suit from the night before, the one she'd thought was immaculate. Her breath hitched in her throat and she forgot all about what she was about to tell Becky.
"Nooo, it's not you, it can't possibly be this easy." She thought as she lifted her vision up to the wearer's face.
She sighed then. No, it wasn't him. It really would have too easy.
"Amaya are you alright? Amaya?" Becky waved her hand back and forth with no avail. Frustrated, she began snapping her fingers at the woman sitting across from her.
"What? Sorry, I'm fine. I just thought I recognized someone." Amaya blushed and tried to remember the last thing she'd been talking about. "Yeah, so Saab has this new line of cars..."
She did not miss Becky murmuring, "Yeah, definitely must have been someone", and rolling her eyes and smiling at her. Amaya cleared her throat and continued talking, hiding her own little smile in the process. Lunch proved to be very productive, but every time a dark suit would turn her way, she'd lift up her eyes from the conversation and look to the wearer of the suit. Everyone at the café seemed to be wearing a dark suit like his that day.
oooo
The gym was packed. Amaya made her way down to the women's locker room and sighed. Her feet hurt from the heels she'd wore for the presentation and she wanted nothing more than to change into the sneakers and workout clothes she'd brought. At least the firm had liked it. They'd even clapped.
She still couldn't understand how women could walk around naked in the locker-room without a care in the world. After years of coming to the same locker she still couldn't bring herself to change out of her clothes without looking around first and making sure no one looked at her. One time a woman had even told her to stop being such a goose, that with her body she should be proud to strip in the room. She'd smiled and tried to not be so nervous, but she just couldn't get past it and took a final look around before changing. Today women swarmed in and out of bathrooms, around mirrors, and, into the sauna. There was no way she could change today without at least one person getting an eyeful. Amaya set her things down, counted to five, and began to change. Just as the rational part of her thought, no one gasped or stared, she was just another woman changing in the locker room.
For the first time in the day, Amaya knew that she would be able to leave her mind blank. As she put her headphones on, everything faded but the beat of the song and the numbers on the treadmill before her. This daily ritual, which had begun years ago when she had arrived in the country, had made her one of the better-looking recluses in London.
She was almost at the half hour. A few seconds more and she would be done with running for the day. A woman in front of her ran, panting, on the machine in front of her. Ten seconds more. A man to her left walked on his and read what looked to be a rather large hardcover with a flashy red title. Two seconds more. Next to the time was the course she'd been running. One more little red dot could light up she decided, and kept running. Just one more. Her legs throbbed, and she finally pushed the stop button. She set the machine to a slow walking pace, and caught her breath. It would be stupid to stop cold.
Amaya reached for her water bottle and looked over to the flight of stairs that would lead her to the third floor. She groaned and started walking. The elevator was next to her, but she didn't dare take it. The elevator was for lazy people at the gym. Anyone caught using it would be made fun of on sight. She did not want to be thought of as one of the Lazy People. So, slowly making her way up the flight of stairs, she distracted herself from the pain in her calves by browsing what was on the music player at the moment. This floor was almost always empty. People had a certain dislike for the torturous abdominal machines. She finished the crawl up and sat down on one of the machines. No matter how many men smiled or looked at her, she never felt good enough. She never had, and while there were moments when her ego took over and made her feel good, they were fleeting. She knew she looked good, but she had such little self confidence. "One day I'll feel good, one day..." She thought and started in on the crunches.
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The drive home was long. London traffic caught her and she was at its mercy. Her apartment was just far enough from her job and the gym that she couldn't walk, and the weather bad enough on most days that she didn't dare wait for the bus. So here she sat in her little red car waiting for the traffic to let up so she could travel the two miles home. The sun was still out. That was one of the things that fascinated her about England. It would not be sundown till around 10 PM. She couldn't imagine back in Miami the sun still being out when people started to arrive at clubs. Yet here it was perfectly normal. That was just another difference between London and Miami.
Another thing she desperately missed was the ocean. Amaya tried not to think about what she missed and what she didn't too much, it wouldn't do her any good. It wouldn't do her any good to remember his corpse, mangled, pale, and so unlike him in life. She did not want to think of being in the morgue and having to identify her love so he wouldn't die just another John Doe.
And then the memory came back.
oooo
Marcos telling her he loved her before hanging up his cell phone for the final time. She knew something was wrong. Her stomach knotted. She'd been at home drawing. And half an hour later she'd gotten the call.
"There's been an accident ma'am. Your ID was in his wallet, so we contacted you first. There's no other next of kin—".
"Wait, what do you mean there's no next of kin? What's happened to Marcos? Tell me!" Amaya fumbled with her sandals, trying desperately to get them on her feet while jotting down the address to the morgue.
"Oh my god, the MORGUE. HE'S IN THE MORGUE!"
She sobbed as she rushed out into the sunny day and grabbed the door handle of her car.
oooo
She shook off the memory.
So it was better to appreciate her new life in London. London, with its design district, London with the beautiful buildings, London that had given her a well paying job that she didn't have to break her back over, only take her time and put her mind to use. Yes, this was better. And him, the new him.
The honk jolted her from her thoughts and Amaya stepped on the accelerator. She felt silly. How long had she been there, spacing off like an idiot in the middle of traffic? Better not to think about that either. She'd be arriving home soon to her dinner and her peace and quiet. "What an interesting life indeed!" She thought blearily. Maybe he would come tonight again. At least she had that much to look forward to. It wasn't certain he would show, but at least she had something new in her life, even if brief, to break her out of routine.
She turned into the parking garage, and by the time she got out of her car, Amaya didn't notice that she was practically strutting to the elevator, and as she got to the 7th floor, she most certainly didn't think much of the huge grin and hello's she gave everyone that passed her by. After leaving her bags on the nearest chair, Amaya went directly to her stereo and rummaged around for the CD she'd had in mind since stepping out of the car. She fished it out from between two other discs and laughed to herself before switching tracks to the particular track she needed to hear.
One shoe flew in the air as she kicked it off, and the other she grabbed in her hand and used as a microphone. The sounds of Killer Queen bounded around the apartment, and Amaya could not have been happier. She set about making dinner in the empty kitchen and thought about whether she should actually brush her hair and put on some makeup before setting out to the park with her bag tonight. A clear, glossy lip-gloss was in order, she decided.
Amaya was about to grab the garlic and then thought better of it. "No bad breath required." She thought, and giggled to herself once more. She'd been doing that a lot today come to think of it. Instead, she opened her drawer and moved random cans of vegetables and fruit aside. Then she found it. A nice, neutral, can of tomato soup.
While the soup heated itself in the microwave, she walked to her bedroom and picked some clothed for the evening. A pair of black jeans, a long sleeve blue cotton shirt, and her boots awaited her after dinner. She liked this outfit, everything was tight.
The microwave beeped and she served herself. "The counter is much too shiny." She thought. "Wait, what? 'The counter is too shiny?' Where the fuck does that even come from?" She shook her head and decided that her mysterious stranger from the night before was having too much of an effect on her.
As she washed the bowl the water warmed her hands and she sighed and smiled.
"Hopefully I can see you again tonight, Alucard."
oooo
He breathed hard. The gore still dripped from his fingers. He could smell the blood as it stained the ledge he was crouched on. God, he could see her! Smiling, no less, probably waiting for him to show up like he'd done the night before. Subconsciously, he began to lick his fingers. He couldn't really bring himself to think that it would be ok to go down there tonight and talk to her. She must have there for an hour already. Tonight her music was modern; but he didn't have a clue as to any of the song names. There was a lot of screaming, and fast guitars, but the music wasn't necessarily angry. In fact, it sounded somewhat Middle-Eastern. What an interesting mix. But never mind about her music, he was just trying to distract himself from the real question at hand. Could he let himself have hope? Hope that the young woman a hundred or so feet away from him could like him, maybe even let him court her?
Alucard looked down at his hands then, and tasted the blood in his mouth. He didn't think he could stand what he was doing for much longer. He was starting to become annoyed with being the Organization's one man clean-up crew. It was a bonus that they bothered to add more to his already ridiculously large bank account, but he was tiring of the job. Each night that he had to take orders from that woman made him want to rip her head off. She had been wonderful when she'd been younger, kind even, but the years had made her rough, sarcastic, and self absorbed. Integra Hellsing had become a joke to him.
If the right motivation were at hand, he believed he could once again become part of the society he had ruled. Hell, it's not like he'd have a problem getting people to approach him. They'd swarmed to him each time he emerged from the cobwebs of years passed. She could be that motivation for him, if she allowed him to court her that was. He wanted to do things right if they were going to be done. Always a man of class and tradition, Alucard could not think of another way for things to proceed. Wait, was he actually considering speaking to her again? Maybe he was.
Before he'd been called that night he'd sat in his chair, and all he could think of was her face, her smile, and how she'd bewitched him. How nice it was to pretend to be just another human passing by. How nice it was to have someone talk to him, and be genuinely interested in what he had to say. And she was so different from the rest of the women he'd met in his life. Of course, not all were whores, but those had just been friends. This one though, wasn't at all a whore, but she most certainly had his attention.
Too bad she'd never know it.
She'd never want to speak to him, not really, not if she found out the truth.
Alucard thought about the past, about the decadence he'd been offered, about his best friend Sebastian and his pretty little mortal wife, and about all the things he'd left behind. He rather missed Sebastian. Every once in a while they wrote each other. He looked over to his writing desk and looked at the letter he'd received a few weeks ago from him. Apparently Lucia was pregnant.
"Good for him." He thought and smiled.
Envy overtook him then, and he thought of Amaya again.
He clenched his hand into a fist and scowled. He was like that when they called him to assist. The anger had helped.
oooo
Flashes from earlier in the night came back to him, of the fools screeching, their tongues hanging out, dribbling bloody saliva. How they'd enjoyed themselves before they knew he'd arrived. How they'd hooted at the body parts and the soldiers trying to scramble away from their inhuman grip. Then their idiot eyes had gone wild as he laughed and began slashing. Dark blood splattered the walls, joining the soldiers's. He'd heard their arms tear out of their sockets as he'd pulled, and felt their heads crunching as he'd bounced them off each other. In the end, he did not even wait for the "clear!" of the Organization's soldiers; he had simply gone from there to here.
And here he was, sitting on a lonely rooftop, watching the woman that fascinated him. "What have I got to loose? If she doesn't like me then well, I can go back to hiding. Her life will have changed yes, but she's young, smart, and beautiful; there are plenty out there that will want her," he thought.
Alucard was not a man who liked disappointment. He did not fail at what he set out to do, anything he set out to do. After centuries of the same, it was hard to let go and accept that before him was an actual challenge. Something he would actually have to work at if he wanted it. He smiled then, and was about to jump off the ledge when he saw her stand. Her damned alarm had gone off. It was time for her to go home now. He cursed himself. A wasted night. "No, not wasted, you decided tonight," he said lightly. And she'd be back tomorrow. Tomorrow he would talk to her. She looked hurt. Tonight she really had expected him. He frowned and felt like a total ass. The least he could do was follow her home to make sure she arrived safely. Also, it provided a wonderful excuse to see her for a while longer.
Amaya stood and gathered her sketchbook. Had she really expected him? Yes, of course she had. She'd hoped for that chance that she knew was so slim, but still existed. And for what? A total disappointment. She couldn't really expect him to be there. He'd told her so. The drawing didn't help, and neither did the music. All she'd been able to accomplish was the drawing of him, but in a black cloak. That's how he best looked, she'd decided, even though she'd never seen him in such a cloak.
She sighed and began to walk. The town tonight looked desolate again, and this time he wasn't there to take her mind away from the emptiness of it all. He wasn't there to make her laugh, or point out funny things about London that she'd never noticed before.
"How pathetic..." She thought hollowly. She'd definitely fallen for this one.
Someone that wasn't at all a constant in her life. Just a stranger who'd happened upon her on his casual walk through the park. Correction, random walk through the park. Random walk through the park that was probably never going to happen again. Amaya growled and shook her head. It was no use dwelling on things that weren't up to her to solve. She knew she'd sit at that bench day after day, and if he happened to come by again, she would definitely drop hints that she was interested. And he was a man, it wouldn't be too hard too get him to want her.
A bitter smile crept up her face, and straightening her back, she lifted her head once more and finished the walk home.