Sorry this took so long! Sickness won't stop me, but it does one hell of a job delaying me.

Disclaimer: I deny that I, or anyone I know, own or hold in possesion the rights to Chrono Crusade. The events in the 'Copy Write' scandal and my recent acquiry of certain deeds are completely unrelated, despite what recent FBI detectives have said. Thank you. - Statement read out Miss Olynara's laywers at the recent press conferance. The ending statement was: Really, I don't own it.

There were no colour photos back then, so it makes things slighty more complicated, but it'll still make sense.

Chapter 6 Newspaper Clippings

A quick overview of Chrono's apartment, for sense's sake. Front door leads to the main 'lounge' room. There are 4 doors from there, the main bedroom, the kitchen, the spare room and the sunroom. Just inside the sunroom is the door into the bathroom, and at the back of the spare room is the other bathroom door (Meaning there are 2 doors to the 1 bathroom). Thank you for your time.

Chrono got up to check on his ward, a little worried. Rosette hadn't seemed like a drinker, but how could he know? He opened his own bedroom door a crack, and seeing she was fast asleep, smiled and walked in. The first thing he noticed was how dark it was, strangly, even though he went through that every morning. Or, afternoon, depending on the working hours. The second was a dark red dress, bra and stockings, which made Chrono blush dark pink before backing out of the room. He had stuff to do. She could wake up when she wanted, all he could do was hope that she would remember that he had only put her in the bed. Despite himself, he grinned at the thought.

Considerately, he left a note saying she could use the shower. - Last chapter. And now:

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Rosette had no idea what time it was when she awoke. She was beyond the usual realms of groggy, and several kinds of electrical appliances were pounding in her head. "It hurts." She moaned, turning over and flinging a hand out in front of her. When the hand didn't meet a badly placed shelf in her tiny apartment, she tried to ignore the headache to figure out what was happening. Waving the hand around in the air and still finding nothing, though, she sighed and let it rest against her warm forhead. Warm, but not hot. No fever, and, ouch! Definatly awake, though a poke in the eyes was untraditional. So it wasn't a dream. Ah well, nothing for it but to open the eyes.

Slowly, two lagoon like irises opened, and Rosette's breath settled. A girl like Rosette couldn't help but imagine a dungeon that happened to have a magically soft bed, and guns, or better, daggers, spears, and magic symbols keeping her from sitting up. So it was a mild disappoinment when no tall, dark, rougishly handsome but tortured and evil young man walked up to her, held out his hand, and announced he was an evil prince who was taking her hostage and would force her, as the most beautiful woman in the realm, to marry him before pulling her into a kiss. Damn.

She waited another few seconds, staring at a dark blue ceiling, painted to resemble the night sky. But nothing, and so Rosette sat up, disappointed but not too upset over it. Chrono might have been annoyed if she switched dimentions without saying she'd miss work.

Sitting up turned out to be a horrible mistake, as it made her headache six hundred and thirty-seven point two times worse. This fact would later be proven by an insane scientist who had nothing better to do while he waited for his death ray to warm up. She fell back, cursing her brain. But it did help memory flow. Someone... A drink... She'd only had one, but afterwoulds she had been completely out of her mind. "Oh... Dixie was right." She moaned pathetically. "And I'm going to have to quit. Chrono would never keep a murderess on staff." The headache didn't go away, but it was numbed by Rosette's unique kind of blood lust. The brunette boy was going to die.

She moved to haul herself out of the bed, when she realised she was wearing next to nothing. Looking 'round the side, she saw a bra and stockings, but the dress was gone. Blushing furiously, she searched for clothes, and on seeing a freshly laundered pile of men's clothes, scarpered over to it, pulling an overlarge button up shirt over her head. Then she went back to her own clothes, pulled on the stockings and bra, and was happy and immodest enough to search for the man then.

Still with a pounding headache, she left the room in a slightly wobbly fashion, but managed a weak whistle when she opened the door into the main room. It was wide, elegant, and airy. Whoever this guy was, he had good taste. Not that that would save him. Creeping through the room, she looked around at four other door she could see. Assuming one was to leave the house, the other three were... Well there was only one way to find out. She headed through the first door, which was an open arch, into a lime green kitchen, dim because of shutters. Doing the only sensible thing, she raided the fridge and made a huge breakfast, then spent a full half hour chowing down.

"I've gotta find the bathroom." She realised after she finished, darting from the kitchen to find the bathroom. She automatically ran to the other side of the lounge room, pulled open the door to a bedroom, groaned, but ran straight through and opened the second door in the room. "Ah! Sweet relief!" She sighed, running into the clean light blue bathroom, also very dark due to wooden shutters. "Someone has a theme going." She muttered. In classic Rosette style, she not only didn't notice the note sticky taped onto the glass of the shower cubicle, but she left the bathroom from a different door to that which she entered. And that's when she saw it.

"Whoa."

That was the only word for it. Warm sunlight streamed in tiny ribbons between the inescapable shutters, trying to light a sunshine yellow room. It had soft, comfy looking white furniture arranged loosely around the room, and a floor to ceiling bookshelf taking up one wall. But it wasn't the general prettiness that caught Rosette's attention, or made her gasp. It was, in the center of the room, against one wall, a shrine.

Glimmers of yellow wallpaper could be seen between newspaper clippings, but not many, and the wall was covered with black and white text, sepia pictures, and larger, thicker headlines. Against the wall, like borders, were two dresses, one an elegant evening dress and extremely beautiful, the other simpler, for a cool day not unlike that outside. On a low table were small, random seeming objects that Rosette hadn't seen anywhere else in the house, they didn't seem the man's style, delicate, tasteful porcelain minatures in various positions, and a few rings. It was so strange. Not only newspapers but photographs covered the walls, though they were all of the same person. In different places, with different people, but always that same face. Rosette fell to her knees and edged closer, trying to figure out what it was all for, when a name caught her attention. It was one of the biggest headlines, and was near the middle. Bold letters wrote: A Star Is Born! Mary Magdalene Takes Chicago By Storm! Of course. The Angel. Mary Magdalene had been one of the most famous singers only a few years back, and her beautiful, soft voice had enthralled the entire city. It was rumoured that if she hadn't given away so much money to charity, at her young age Mary could have retired lavishly. The reason she didn't were in large letters next to the first headline. Chicago Mourns For Mary Magdalene. Rosette remembered the time well, she had been one of the die hard fans who had worn a black band on her arm for mourning.

Mary Magdalene had begun singing at fifteen, and her uniquely angelic voice had meant that most of Chicago, Rosette included, were in love with her by age sixteen. Mary, it seemed, could do no wrong; most of her money went to charities, she went to church every Sunday, and she tended to perform more in lounges than racy nightclubs. For about three years, the city went out of it's 'hot jazz, cold vodka,' habits for a more button down, romantic stage, with swaying dancing and fluttery voices. Churches and charities owed a lot to Mary, who had created a money giving trend at the time.

Though Mary had sung in many different places, Mary's birthday present was a lounge called Seventh Bell, an instant hit. Filled to overflowing every night, the owner of the club itself -Mary didn't do the business concerns- must have been overjoyed. Rosette saw clips to do with Seventh Bell, though they weren't as prominant. Mary Magdalene Opens Lounge. Will Seventh Bell Be A Hit? was followed immediatly by: Seventh Bell A Hit! Rosette grimaced. The closeness of the words almost made her gag. But she looked around at the other things. There were so many! Whoever this guy was, he had an obsession. She had been looking at the headlines, but never bothered to read the articles. She had worn the arm band, but didn't even know how Mary had died. Shaking her head, Rosette leaned towards the article and began reading.

"Today we mourn the loss of one of our city's greatest treasures, as the public funeral Mary Magdalene, the singer who stole our hearts, takes place. Many rumours have flown about the how of the death, as Ms Magdalene had beenin perfect health prior to the incident, and had been leaving for home from a performance. We of the Chicago Times are here to tell the truth of the event.

Ms Magdalene, walking back to her home on 5th Boulevarde, was caught up between a mob war in full heat. The event was with Sinner Aion, who, at this time, is ruling our streets. But we, the Chicago Times will stand up to him! Ms Magdalene, whom had never even brushed with any criminal activity, had come too close to the event, and-"

Rosette stopped reading. A shoot up. That was what happened. And she had never had anything to do with criminals. Rosette shook her head sadly. That man, Aion, had so much to atone for. When she had shaken her head, Rosette had noticed an article she hadn't seen before, which was surprising, considering not only the size of the article, but the picture, and the jubilant nature of the headlines. And when she did notice the text, her eyes were drawn to the picture, and that was what really shocked her.

The angel, dressed in a white dress and veil, was smiling lovingly at her groom, her platinum hair done carefully with ivory pins and lace. Smiling back and clutching her hand was a man, visibly hopelessly in love, dressed in a black suit, bow tie and top hat. His own hair was about the same length as hers, tied in a ponytail, and dark in the sepia picture. He had a mischivous grin on his face as he held her hand, holding the slim fingers up to the light to see the rings on both their right hands.

"Chrono." Whispered Rosette glancing at the headline again. Mary Magdalene Weds Longtime Sweetheart. Longtime sweetheart? Chrono? Rosette just stared in shock. Leaning in close, she began reading the story.

"This morning, at the 'Holy Name Cathedral', Miss Mary Peregrin, better known as jazz singer Mary Magdalene, was married to her childhood sweetheart, owner of the lounge, Seventh Bell, and agent, Chrono. In the beautiful gothic arches, dating all the way back to the 13th century, Mary and Chrono were wed with thousands of Mary's fans as witnesses, the wedding being an open event, decided by Miss Peregrin's kind nature. The blushing bride and dashing groom -pictured left- were delighted by the events of the day, family and friends all partaking in a magical wedding cake suppiled by Marcy Dancer, one of our city's greatest pastry artists. When asked for a comment, the bride answered: 'It's such a beautiful day for a wedding! I'm so glad it didn't rain, but I don't think anything could make me unhappy today.' Then turned back to her new husband for a share of champange."

Rosette smiled at the picture. He looked so happy. She turned to see the other pictures when she heard the front door open. Her mind automatically switched to that of a dull hunters'. The brunette would die. She put a hand slowly to the door of the yellow room -the outer door, not the one into the bathroom- and crept out. Thanks to curtains and blinds, it was very dark, though Rosette had no idea it was for her benefit. Because, again, without Rosette's knowledge, Chrono had had his share of hangovers, and knew perfectly well light was the enemy. The down side was that she couldn't see anything properly, and with a snarl launched herself at the surprised form of the house's owner.

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Chrono, as he opened his door, desparetly wanted to be surprised when Rosette lunged at him, but it was bound to happen. Rosette was magnetically attracted to using him as a punching bag. Luckily for him, if not her, being hungover Rosette was completely awake but not fully physically compentant, and only got in a few punches before he grabbed her hands.

"You bast-" She snarled at him. Chrono he twisted his grip, making her trip and stumble into his arms. Abruptly he changed the hold, so they faced the same direction with her pinned against his chest. "What did you do? Let go of me you perv!" Railed Rosette furiously.

"Can we meet, just once, without me being pummled?" Asked Chrono into her ear.

"Chrono?" She gasped.

"Yep. You don't think I would have let you stumble away with that other guy, did you? I have to look after my girls." There was compassion in his voice, and he felt her ease up against him. A moment before she had been stiff with shock.

"Oh, Chrono, thank you." She whispered uncharacteristically. He had half expected a 'thank you' then a rough shove.

"It's okay." He whispered back, smiling to himself. He was enjoying the peace of the situation, but was determined to at least seem like the responisble adult he was impersonating. "Now, I'm terribally comfortable, but maybe you'd like to move?" He asked cheekily, loosening his grip on her wrists. With a flustered gasp Rosette leapt away, leaving Chrono chuckling though slightly disappointed. It was then he recieved the punch he had expected, and just rubbed his arm, still laughing.

"You could have let me go before." She grumbled. He simply grinned at her.

"Now where's the fun in that?" He chuckled, receiving another punch. That was why his heart was beating faster. The natural adrenalin that violence caused. It had nothing to do with being so close to Rosette, inhaling that sweet smell about her. It had nothing to do with that at all. Or the light blush, or the small dimple she revealed when she smiled, or how good she looked in his shirt, which only reached mid thigh... No. It had nothing to do with any of those things.

"Chrono, yoo-hoo, anyone there?" Rosette waved her hand in front of his face. He blinked, apologising. "Don't say sorry, I was just wondering why you blanked out for a sec."

"Just thinking." He laughed. "So what do you think of my house?" He asked, waving his hands around the room as he changde the subject. That made Rosette remember something.

"Chrono, what's your last name?" She asked. He stared at her, slightly calculating.

"Why?"

"I saw the yellow room-"

"Oh. Then you'll know my name. Why are you asking?" His voice was cold.

"What? I saw the stuff with Mary Magdalene, but none of it really mentioned you. That wedding picture was pretty." Rosette's voice turned soft, he had lost Mary so quickly, she hadn't thought how mentioning it would hurt. But an amused smile tugged at his lips. Rosette doubted that many people would have seen it was forced, but not many people would have stared at his lips that closely.

"You didn't read the articles then. Or notice anything else in the room." Rosette had seconds to ponder what the meant when he added: "I assume you didn't find my note, or you wouldn't have attacked me."

"Note?"

"In the bathroom, saying you could use the shower."

"Oh. Um, do you mind if I have a look in the room again-"

"If you like." Chrono's face was closed, shuttered like the rest of his house, and his voice was guarded. Rosette didn't like that side of him, was unused to it, compared to the laughing man he usually was. She walked to the room, probably the sunroom, without looking at him. She looked around, this time taking in the objects on the bookshelf, and saw it. It was a picture of a proud looking boy, grinning broadly, holding up a diploma in the picture and dressed in robes. Behind him were two proud looking parents, each with a hand on his shoulders. A woman, with long light red hair, and a man with dark hair, so black it was blue. Well, that explained the purple hair, sort of. (Let's just pretend that was completely logical, shall we? And that is the only picture with colour)

She smiled at the picture, glancing at the framed peice of news beside it. It was a college or university paper, not offical, but with the school crest.

On graduation day we have had many proud students, including Mathew Gerald, who holds honors for business and languages, but few students leave our hallowed halls with an award for bravery, this year given to a student who aided in the rescue of the science students, during the fire. Entering the world of men not only with a masters in mathmatics, but a Golden Cross for bravery, is the young student Chrono Magdalene, who managed his tests perfectly, despite numourous days missed, and living off campus. Congratulations Mr Magdalene, and all our ex-students, and may you all prosper, and never forget your school!

"What the...?" Rosette stared at the words. "So he's Magdalene. But then Mary...?" She shook her head, confused, seeing a letter. In an elegant script the word Chrono was written. Rosette picked it up. She wanted to read it, but remained unsure, realising how private it was. Still, curiousity got the better of her, and she skimmed the page, till certain words caught her eye.

'...I've decided to use your name, if you'll let me. Darling, I love to sing, but I'll need a name to get the attention of people, and one day, I want to have your name truly. So, will you let me be Miss Mary Magdalene, and will you be my manager? I know how embarassed you are, only calling yourself Chrono, but I want to use it so much. Will you let me?..."

"Oh." Rosette got it then. She smiled slightly. "Mr Magdalene. I don't know why he didn't like it, I think it has a nice ring to it. Well, I think I'll use Mr Magdalene's shower now. I'm sorry I didn't before. The more careless Rosette began taking over as she smiled and understood more about her boss. How tense it had been before was washing away in her mind, and she felt annoyed she was dressed in a man's shirt. So she picked up the lighter dress she had seen, it hung in plastic so was in perfect condition, and taking it out, lay it on one of the chairs. "I need to wear something." She said apologetically to the light blue silk, which, belonging to Mary Magdalene, probably didn't bear grudges, and skipped to the shower, finally noticing the note. "Aww, that was sweet." She murmured, before stripping and turning the taps and sighing at the hot water.

Chrono, while Rosette was checking out his past, made himself some coffee and drank slowly. He had been careful that no-one, or as few people as possible, knew about his past. It was easier that way. Shaking his head as he finished the coffee, he headed to the bathroom. Opening the door, he stiffened as he heard the rushing water, and, his eyes moving of their own accord, saw a not-so-vague outline through the misted glass. Gasping, he closed the door, but he was sure, and desperately hoped, that Rosette hadn't seen him. A man could only take so many punches.

Rosette, meanwhile, finished her shower, and using one of the huge towels, drapped it around her like a toga and walked back into the dimly lit sunroom. She changed into the blue dress, shivering slightly at the knowledge that this was a dead woman's dress, but resting easy since she didn't believe in ghosts, and that Mary was kind, and would have lent Rosette the dress if she had asked. "This isn't much of a sunroom." She muttered, opening the shutters to let in streaming light, and seeing a beautiful view of Chicago. Nodding away the slight remainder of a headache, she walked back into the main room, squinting at the sudden darkness.

Chrono got a different view, as a golden haired, blue-clad angel opened the door from heaven, her golden hair in thick shiny curls from the shower. She stepped from the light into the darkness of his world, and closed the door. The end of light brought him out of his daze, and he saw Rosette, and gasped. She wore a short sleeved dress, frilled at the edges, the same dress Mary had worn on picnics. If Rosette hadn't looked so stunning he would have been horrified. She noticed, and blushed, looking away.

"I'm sorry, but there weren't any clothes..."

"No, that's my fault!" He said quickly, not wanting her to look away from him for any reason. "I switch to autopilot mode for laundry. I should have left the dress, sorry." She shrugged, and grinned mischivously.

"First I have nothing to wear when I wake up, then you walk in when I'm having a shower-"

"That was an accident!"

"Hmm. Is that it, Mister Chrono Magdalene?" She teased. Chrono stopped, staring at her, all traces of amusement gone. Not anger, or sadness, just melancholy. Old memories resurfacing.

"No-one's called me that in years." He whispered.

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Crusade in latin: Peregrinus, that shortened to Pererin, for Mary's real name. I could have made it Chrono's name, if I hadn't planned out this pointless little extra thing about the names.

In the name of all that is good and pure, review, REVIEW! Or you'll never get the next chapter, for I am the author, and control all! Thank you all those who HAVE reviewed, you rock!