Title: Play of the Fates (1 of ?)

Author: Paola

Disclaimer: Play of the Fates is based on characters and situations that belong to Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asashi (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited. References to real company/ies, historical figure/s, and other personality/ies, dead or alive, are purely fictional. Beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author's. The idea to make the chapter titles begin with "The One…" is from the TV show, F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Rating: M

Warning: Adult situations. Cursing.

Play of the Fates

I: The One With The Scary Test

Athrun had been staying in Orb for a fortnight already, working to win an acquisition for the rights of an in-demand car make. He was representing Genesis Motors in the bid, one of the biggest car brands in the world, and he knew what was at stake.

Foremost, it was a show of strength. In the ever competitive market of automobiles, the bigger the brand, the better, and what better way to show strength than an acquisition. A healthy and cushioned bottom line for Genesis in the long-term was the sweet reward and Athrun was nothing but dogged enough to get them this. And possibly more.

Athrun adjusted his sunglasses and waited for the traffic light to turn green. Of course, that meant he had to be successful in securing the rights from the Nazca Corporation to produce the Vesalius – not quite as popular as Genesis' flagship the Justice, but goddamn did the Vesalius roar. And in the world of engines and wheels, the ones that roared sold.

With three other contenders though, Nazca was playing hardball. Who wouldn't? That much demand meant higher bargaining power. But Athrun was no rookie in this game – he'd done his homework and he wasn't worried.

After all, there was a reason Genesis hired him and threw so much money in his direction. He'd never lost a deal before and he wasn't about to begin now.

His phone started vibrating in the cup holder he'd carelessly stashed it in when he got into the car, and he cursorily thumbed the button on the wheel to patch the call through his car speakers. "Zala."

"What time are we meeting again?"

Athrun shook his head at the obviously distracted voice on the other end. "If, for one second, you can keep your hands off Lacus, maybe you can remember a few minor details."

A snort. "See, that would've been funny if she'd already returned from her trip to the PLANTs. Now, my anti-social friend, if you learn to quit being incommunicado for once in a while, maybe you'll know what's been going on in your friends' lives."

Athrun laughed. Touché. "Fair enough," was his concession, shifting gears as the road opened up before him.

"So?"

"Ah, yeah, around twelve. Off to a meeting in Onogoro."

"Good timing. My schedule's free at that time. I have a class to teach in ten minutes but talk soon! And thanks in advance for the free lunch!"

Before Athrun could articulate a rejoinder, Kira had already disconnected. Athrun shook his dark head again, amused at how easily he'd been had by his childhood best friend when no other men in the business world had ever done it.

He'd been friends with Kira since they lost their first teeth, gone through so many heartbreaks and heartburns together, that sometimes he'd wondered if they weren't secretly twins for how close they were.

The only time they'd had it out was when Kira got together with Lacus not even a month after Athrun and Lacus had broken up. That smarted his ego, but it didn't take long to quell his anger, because when he did look back at where things went wrong, he felt almost stupid for not seeing it sooner.

Their relationship was touted to be perfect by the circles in which their families ran, and they hadn't been technically wrong, except it wasn't a perfect romance – it was a perfect friendship. They were so comfortable and so set on a routine that, in retrospect, it was so clear that there was no spark in the relationship.

Kira had profusely apologized, of course, the softie that he was, but he'd also boldly told Athrun that he wouldn't let his best friend stand between him and Lacus. Athrun had surprised him then by laughing, and Kira had never looked so confused in his entire life. That had ended their fight because he'd finally admitted, both to himself and to Kira, that his relationship with Lacus had sadly fizzled even before it could truly begin.

He hadn't been involved in a serious relationship since then. A few romantic affairs here and there, but none had really gotten so far as to get him to commit. It wasn't so bad. He was a busy man after all. And if he sometimes entertained thoughts about settling down when he was in the company of Kira and Lacus, that was really none of their business. Besides, those moments never lasted, and probably only inspired by being in the company of those two love birds. They were just too sweet with each other – like old souls who were meant to be.

The obvious downside was of course that his friends loved to set him up as if they were in a competition to see who could find "the one" because Athrun couldn't be bothered. The worst was when Kira and Lacus had roped in Dearka, Athrun's fraternity brother.

Athrun pushed another button to bring the top of the car down. It was a nice breezy day, and the drive was pretty scenic.

Dearka, the absolute bastard, had set him up with a young woman who could've passed for Lacus, if Lacus had been a little less…right, for lack of a better term. As much as Athrun prided himself in knowing how to treat a woman, it had been a disaster. And as much as he believed in equal opportunities, he'd never felt so objectified knowing the goal on her part had been for him to just be another notch on her bedpost.

Dearka had been apoplectic in his laughter and Athrun had found himself wishing the blonde would choke; it would serve him right.

His GPS notified him that he was nearing his destination. Just as well. Another day of meetings meant he'd have to focus on work instead of being compelled to entertain his friends' antics. And as the wind swept through his hair, the Justice's power humming smoothly where his hand gripped the wheel, Athrun thought that life was good.

If there was anything that Mirillia wasn't, it was subtle. The brunette had barged in on Cagalli while she was pacing the length of her apartment, worrying her already-threadbare sweater just for the sake of having something to do with her hands.

Today hadn't been a good day, and in a series of days that hadn't boded well for her, today just about took the cake. In her past life, she was sure she did something so horrible to get this karma.

That night at Freedom was indeed unforgettable but also fucking stupid on her part. She'd never been as careless, and now, her period was late. By a week. She was the queen of protection, always on the pill and with a condom in her purse. But she'd been preoccupied and hadn't had the time to refill her prescription, and the rubbers in her purse were forgotten in her agitation. Or maybe she had really just been that horny. She couldn't remember anymore.

In one of her drawers was a test but she hadn't yet found the courage to take, for fear that her fears were not unfounded. So instead she paced, and that was how Miriallia had found her, full of pent-up energy and worry and the brunette mistook it for something else.

"You ought to get laid," Miriallia calmly suggested, a little too uncannily on the nose for Cagalli's taste. "You're wound too tightly"

God, if she only knew that getting laid was exactly why she was pacing.

"What's wrong? Is it your dad again?"

Cagalli fought almost tooth and nail not to sigh in relief at the escape Miriallia unwittingly offered. She would take that, and it wasn't even necessarily a lie.

"You could say that…"

Cagalli Yula Athha, heiress to Genesis Motors, and she'd rather not have anything to do with the damn thing. The last thing she wanted was to inherit the family business and work for her father.

Uzumi, like the ever careful business man that he was, had laid out great plans for her – probably even as early as her walking her first steps, she wouldn't be surprised – but she couldn't stand the idea of being in her father's shadow. Because there was no doubt that she would be, especially in an industry dominated by men, with big shoes to fill coming from someone who'd built his fortune from the ground up.

So she'd gone on her own merry way and pursued a less successful career in the fashion industry as a magazine…writer? Associate? Editor? Hell, she didn't even know what her current JD was given she felt like she'd been flitting across different roles because the magazine she worked for wasn't necessarily one of the most popular ones.

It had been fun at first – and a challenge because it was so far away from any of her interests – joining a startup and being around ambitious young minds who thought they were really making a difference in an industry as old and as established as fashion. But the glitter, of course, had dulled. What began as a startup was now a regular circulation, but they weren't big, she still filled different roles when needed, and she still had annoying bosses whose dreams of working for international names were probably crushed, hence slinging their frustrations at anyone pitiful enough to be in their path. Like Cagalli that day that drove her to go drinking at Freedom.

And there she was back again, at the crux of her pacing, because apparently, all roads led to drunken one-night stands.

"Is it really so bad? I mean, it's not like your dad's cruel or unreasonable," Miriallia ventured, sprawling on Cagalli's tiny couch.

It took Cagalli a moment to get back on track, having once again been distracted by the incident at Freedom. "No, you're right, but…I can't, Mir. I don't want in that business. You know why…"

At Miriallia's nod, Cagalli had to accept all over again the real reason she didn't want anything to do with Genesis. She might not really want to be in her father's shadow, but that wasn't even half of it.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Cagalli snorted. "No way."

"So what're you gonna do?"

Take the damn test, was her immediate thought. But she still hadn't gotten the courage to do so, and if she couldn't even face it herself, there was no chance she would tell Miriallia about it, no matter how close they were.

"Guess it's really time to talk to him, huh? Be honest and hope to high heavens that he gets it and backs off."

"When?"

Cagalli's eyes darted towards the drawer with the test, and again shied away from what she really needed to do. "Well, why put off until tomorrow what you can do today?" Wow, big words for someone who was currently putting off the much easier task of peeing on a stick. But this plan would get her away from Miriallia before the brunette could really suss out her real problem, so she'd go with it. Get something done for the day, at least.

She grabbed her jacket and her keys. "Feel free to hang out! I may have leftover flan in the fridge!" And then she was out the door before Miriallia could protest.

Her family mansion was a sight to behold. Tall with high white pillars, gorgeous grounds and gardens, and a myriad of big windows that let natural light in. And despite its grandness, it was strangely not imposing. It was easy to admit that there were times when she missed it, but the freedom living on her own afforded her more than made up for the lack of space and help.

The feature that she missed the most though was the musical chime that served as a doorbell. It rang sweetly when she pulled on the thick chord by the door.

To her surprise, Mana, her old nanny, was the one who opened the door instead of his father's trusted head of security, Kisaka. For as along as she could remember, Kisaka greeted visitors first before any of the butlers they'd had.

"Lady Cagalli!" Mana enthused, but the way she swept her eyes over Cagalli made her wonder if the exclamation was because her presence was a nice surprise or because of what she was wearing. Mana did always have a bit of a conservative taste in clothing, dressing her in long pants and long dresses when she was younger.

Now, "Lady Cagalli" was decked in wickedly ripped denim shorts, an old red pullover, and an unzipped hoodie with a fraying hem.

"Promise, Mana, I don't always dress like I'm homeless," she was quick to assuage her nanny's upset. There was no benefit in worrying the old girl, was there? And it was true anyway. If there was one lesson she'd learned from her younger years, it was that how you presented yourself mattered. But it was an unplanned visit to begin with, when all she had originally calendared for today was worry over a stupid test she was afraid to take.

Cagalli squinted when the passing breeze swept her hair in a messy tumble. "Lord of the house in?"

Mana clucked in disapproval, but she shuffled Cagalli inside. "Your father is in the study, but he instructed not to be disturbed. He has an important conference call ongoing."

"Can't he take five minutes? Can you fetch him for me?"

"My love, you know I will do no such thing, but what I will do is get you something to drink. Wait outside his study. I won't be long."

Cagalli trudged to the second floor parlor, not quite wanting to be here but at the same time, wanting to get this done and over with in the hopes that it would really be done and over with. At least she'd be accomplishing one thing today that had been on her list for a very long time already.

Mana was true to her words and had brought Cagalli a drink shortly, but Uzumi was taking his time. Cagalli had almost run her phone battery dry just scrolling through her email and answering various messages, and yet there seemed to be no sign of the meeting letting up judging by the different voices that filtered dimly out the study door.

Cagalli yawned. But just when she'd thought she'd have to wait longer, she heard the door handles click. She was quick to get up and stride towards the doors, feeling petulant from the wait. And in a voice an octave louder than it had any right to be – because she was an adult and she didn't give tantrums, dammit – she exclaimed, "Fina—"

And it would have been a right dramatic exclamation, too, if the words hadn't just died an even more dramatic death in her throat. Because right there in front of her was the man who, possibly – most probably – was the reason she had to pee on a stick.

What the flying fuck.

Reference/s:

The idea on the chimes for the doorbell is from Susan Elizabeth Phillips' book, Ain't She Sweet?