A Certain Lady Part 27
Arizona hesitated as she stood at the door before her.
Was she really going to go through with this?
Could she even afford to do so? With such a dramatic day having already unfolded before even lunch?
Particularly given who that drama had centered around?
Pennsy had shown herself to be... less than amicable when it came to the idea of working alongside her new Japanese allies. And after an altercation involving little Shigure of all people, her elder sister had been locked away. Locked away with Mutsu, Jintsuu, and Takao for a history lesson and a talk about the evolution of disciplinary action throughout the years.
Having an American shipgirl present would have been ideal, but she was the only one readily available. And her presence was not exactly the best choice right now. Not for disciplinary action at the very least.
She really wanted to be there for her sister. Both as a fellow warship, but also because she simply wanted to spend more time with her as family.
But even she would admit that taking a swing at Shigure was uncalled for.
She wasn't completely certain of the chain of events that had enabled Pennsylvania to corner the destroyer and start grilling her about Yamashiro, but it had happened regardless. And when Shigure had refused to provide, her sister's temper had flared and a fist had been loosed. The punch hadn't even come close to landing thanks to Hiei, but it had still been thrown.
It was rather impressive that Hiei had managed to intervene as she had in her condition.
Regardless...
Arizona sighed as she recalled Mutsu's parting words before she'd shooed her out of the room where Pennsy was being held.
"Yes Ari, everything has been delayed and no you may not come in. Why don't you take a break? Have some fun. Read a book. Go for a walk. Go on a date. I'll make it an order~"
And Mutsu had indeed pulled rank and made it an order.
It certainly didn't sit well with her, but she wasn't about to disobey a superior officer over something so trivial. Even if that meant her own definition of... fun was off the table. Target practice was fun. So were sea trials, exercise, and books on tactics and strategy. But Mutsu had said it was her own ideas of fun that were to be used. Or Hiei's. Arizona-Class fun was banned for the evening.
Which had brought her to where she was now.
Awkwardly hesitating before a simple wooden door.
"I am a battleship of the United States Navy. I am dedicated, steadfast, and sworn to my duty and country. I..." Without thinking, she knocked on the door. And now she was committed. There would be no evasive maneuvers here. Why did this body have to move on its own at times?
"Hang on!"
Arizona didn't have to wait longer than a few seconds before the door swung open and revealed the fastest destroyer in Japan.
"Ou! What's… Oh." Shimakaze trailed off as she processed who was at her door. A frown crossed her features. "It's the prude lagwagon."
"I-pardon?" Arizona hadn't exactly been expecting smiles and hugs and cheer, but the rather frosty welcome was quite unexpected.
"How'd you do it?" demanded Shimakaze indignantly.
"Do what, exactly?"
"Go so fast! Your sis shows up and you're off like a rocket! Standards don't move that fast. Ever. It's not supposed to be possible!" Shimakaze ranted and raved, both attempting to divine Arizona's secrets and soothe her battered pride. Her bunny-ear ribbon bounced all around as she made ever more animated claims.
"Shimakaze," Arizona finally interjected with a hard tone. This was difficult enough. Standing in the hall of the destroyer dorms only made it more awkward.
The destroyer stopped in her tracks and looked up at the battleship questioningly.
"I don't know." She raised her hand to stave off another outburst. "But rest assured that you will be the first to know if I do find out."
"...Fine. I'll hold you to that." Shimakaze crossed her arms with a huff before dropping the irritated stance and donning a more friendly tone. "So what's up? You came here for a reason, right?"
Arizona looked down the halls before leaning in to whisper her admission.
"I require your assistance with… clothing."
Shimakaze simply stared at Arizona as if the woman had grown a second head.
"May I come inside to explain?" She could feel her face heating in embarrassment, but tried to remain as composed as possible.
"...sure." Shimakaze stepped aside and beckoned Arizona into her room. Her mind was bogging down with all sorts of bizarre explanations and theories. Each more ludicrous than the last. She considered herself to be pretty sharp, but even she couldn't figure out what was going on.
Stupid American standard battleships. Why can't they make sense?
Arizona looked around Shimakaze's room as its owner set about shutting the door and rummaging through a small refrigerator for something to drink.
She would admit she was definitely surprised.
It was incredibly well kept for one. Cleanliness was to be expected, but this was fair above that. Magazines and books neatly organized in the bookshelf and not even a stray sock to be seen. Even the foam mat dominating the floor seemed to be placed just right.
"Want anything?"
"Ah, no. Thank you."
Shimakaze shrugged and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. She popped it open and took a healthy drink of it before pointing it at Arizona.
"So spill, Lieutenant. Why do you need clothing help from the stripperboat?" She almost grinned when Arizona paled. "We have lewdmarines and the Internet."
"Wh-" Arizona clamped down on that train of thought. For that way lies prude filled rage. And she did not need to drive off a potential source of help. Plus, Shimakaze was actually wearing something decent at the moment. A workout attire if she guessed right.
"Hm?"
"Right. Sorry. I apologize." She drew herself up and locked eyes with the destroyer. "I have been ordered to take time off by the Lieutenant Commander and as such I intend to go out this evening. But it would not do to be seen in uniform for such a task. But my wardrobe is… lacking and my fashion sense is not exactly up with the times."
"And you came to me?"
"You are the only one available who might have some sense of modern tastes. And I do not have good reference to place trust in my own observations." Even so, Shimakaze was very, very far down on her list of individuals to seek advice from.
Her elder sister was right out, as were those dealing with her.
Yamashiro and Shigure probably did not want to see her at the moment.
And Hiei was both missing and probably best avoided for this particular query.
Shimakaze held Arizona under a flat gaze. Her usual semi-sleepy expression one of judgment.
"...Please."
"Ou! Alright. But you follow my ideas to the letter!" She'd help the outdated American. And maybe get some petty revenge in the process. Nothing too bad. Just a little poking at the prude's sensibilities. "Or I'm not helping."
Arizona hesitated for the briefest of moments.
"Very well. I am in your care."
Shimakaze grinned and Arizona began to sweat.
"Good. Now if you're going out tonight, we need to move fast. Super fast." Shimakaze nodded sharply. Arizona was shorter and curvier than every other battleship she'd ever seen, so that meant no borrowing from any of the other shipgirls. But maybe…
Arizona began to regret her decision as Shimakaze started pacing and rattling off her thoughts far faster than should be possible.
Words like 'low cut' and 'lacy' only served to fill her with further dread.
—|—|—
Admiral Richardson trudged along the concrete pavers leading to his front door with all the energy of a lethargic zombie.
The day could not have been more mad if it had tried.
Between... effectively anything involving Pennsylvania and that nice little report filled with absurd levels of mixed news sitting on his desk, he was absolutely spent. Add in the day-to-day shenanigans and it was a small miracle he was even standing.
"What do you mean you didn't ask? That's the first thing you do!"
His hand froze before it reached the doorknob. Why was Shimakaze in his house? And why was she raising a ruckus?
"I admit that had... slipped my mind."
Now he was even more confused.
"Pfft! Ari, there are limits to being oblivious!"
And there was Hiei yucking it up with them.
"Ou!"
Right, enough of that.
"I'm home," announced Richardson tiredly as he opened the door and stepped into his home, deciding that dealing with the madness sooner than later would let him get to bed sooner. "And can someo-"
And then he was struck dumb.
If someone had told him when Battleship Arizona had appeared that he would one day see the sight before him, he'd have told them they were insane. Sure, shipgirls were beautiful on a level that defied common convention. But Arizona was a ship overflowing with a dedication to duty, to serve and to protect. Her life was her mission. An absolute and unending drive to prove her worth and atone for a failure she could have never overcome.
Arizona's idea of proper attire involved military uniforms and things that were usually filed under Sunday Best. At least, that's what he had thought after seeing and hearing what had become known as her Prude Rage. Tiny skirts and missing underwear were just two of the many things that he'd seen drive her up the wall. But right now he was seeing none of that.
"Well, someone's at a loss for words."
Were Richardson not currently trying to comprehend reality at the moment, he might have told Hiei to kindly stuff it.
He blinked and the sight did not vanish.
There was Arizona, dressed to the nines in a white dress that was exactly the sort of thing she would have taken anyone else to the breakers over. While it was almost completely all encasing with it's high neck, long sleeves, and reaching to just above her ankles, there were more than enough sheer cutouts to the form fitting garment to make him question just how much it actually concealed. Her coppery red hair was left to fall about of it's own accord save for her bangs which were held in place by a pair of silvery pins. A light bit of makeup he idly recognized as Hiei's handiwork completed the look.
"Uh..."
"Words. Use your words, Admiral," laughed Hiei. "I know she's gorgeous, but you need to use things called words to tell her."
"Lieutenant!" barked Arizona, her face turning an even darker shade of red.
"What? It's true. Just be glad Mutsu's not here." Hiei grinned as she placed her hand onto her jeans covered hip. "She's the one with the teeny tiny skirt that you don't like."
"That's not a skirt! It's a-"
Hiei held up her hand to stave off the rant and Arizona immediately went silent. Only a frown remained.
"Alright. Alright. Don't get so worked up. It'll mess up your dress. You can do that after your date."
"Ou! Don't mess that dress up!" She didn't know who this 'A' person was in supply, but they had apparently delivered a dress sized just right maybe half an hour before she'd walked in the door. And since she had no idea who this person was, much less how to contact them, she did not want to risk Arizona accidentally tearing something in her ire. But that dress was really well made...
Richardson finally shut the door as his ability to function slowly returned from the daze he had been in. The headache probably had something to do with it. And the sheer absurdity of the situation. Had he fallen and hit his head? The walkway was a bit slippery...
"Right. Back up." The Admiral waited for all three ships to turn and face him. "What's going on?"
"Riiiight... About that." Hiei walked over to Richardson and stood next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "Ari here, was told, my Mutsu no less, that she was going to take the rest of the day off since today was... today. And that she wasn't allowed to do anything that we wouldn't find fun."
Richardson merely turned his head to look at Hiei with a flat expression.
"So! She decided she was going out on a date!"
"What?"
"A date. You know, that thing people go on for fun or for vaguely romantic intentions? The thing Kongou-oneesama has been hoping Admiral Goto will take her out on one day?" Speaking of which, she really ought to send Goto a message about that. "That kind of date? You're not old enough to forget that, are you? Please tell me you're not going senile on me."
"He is old. Super old." Shimakaze's quip earned her a glare from the Admiral and promptly ignored it in favor of spinning in place.
"Very funny." Richardson slouched despite Hiei's grip and heaved a mighty sigh. Why today of all days. Couldn't he have this madness spread out of at least two or three? Eventually he looked up at the decidedly irritated and uncomfortable looking Arizona. "Well, have fun and don't do anything stupid."
"About that."
Richardson did not like the way Hiei voiced that.
"Ou! Lagwagon didn't actually ask them out."
"You, what?"
"Sir, this is mortifying enough." Arizona seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red as she visibly struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "Please do not make it worse than these two already have."
"So... who?" He thumbed over to Hiei and was smacked upside the head by said battleship before he could say anything to get himself in hot water. A thought struck his addled mind equally hard not a moment later. Made worse when Jane rounded the corner holding what he recognized as some of his best formal wear. Oh no. Please no.
Arizona folded her hands in front of her and locked eyes with him, wearing the most determined expression he had ever seen.
"Admiral John Richardson, I would like to request your presence as my escort this evening for dinner."
—|—|—
There was little hustle or bustle in the restaurant. The hour was late and many of the patrons were making idle chatter at the bar or enjoying soft conversation over low burning candles.
Off in a secluded corner sat two individuals awaiting their meal.
One an older looking man in a sharp looking suit.
The other a red haired woman of considerable beauty.
"I apologize, Admiral. I should have put more thought into this." Arizona tried to fight away the blush on her cheeks, but had abut as much success as she'd had ever since she'd first seen the dress Shimakaze had obtained for her. That is to say, none whatsoever. And the many eyes drawn to both her and Richardson did not help in the slightest. Why were these things so popular? And why, oh why couldn't she have worn her overcoat?
It wasn't the scars she was worried about. That had never really been an issue.
No it was the fact she felt as naked as if she were in dry dock. With how this dress hugged every curve possible, it left little to nothing to the imagination. How she'd not flown into a rage was due only to the promise she'd made Shimakaze and Hiei. Even that was straining. And if Jane had asked... She'd have no hope at all.
"Probably." Richardson did his best to appear as not exhausted as possible. He might have been forced into this, but that didn't mean he was going to be an ass about it. "But hey, we've both had... involved days. Might as well enjoy ourselves since we're here."
He really did not want to think about the Miracle of the Gulf right now. And breaking the news to the rest of the fleet was not going to be easy. They might not have the same attachments to the lost, but a loss was a loss. It was... bittersweet.
"Yes, sir." Arizona folded her hands in her lap. She squirmed in her seat, not liking the silence that had fallen but also unsure how to break it. There was indeed a reason behind her actions. A reason that had been gnawing at her for the past few days and only exacerbated after today's events. But now that she finally moved to take the opportunity, she found herself paralyzed.
The contents of her purse seemed to radiate a tremendous gravity.
"Jintsuu got her autograph." Richardson was the one to break the silence after a sip of his wine.
"Pardon?"
"Nobuo Uematsu. He was at Pennsylvania's summoning. Jintsuu's been dying to get his autograph ever since she found out he had volunteered to help." He wasn't really familiar with the man's works, but he knew enough thanks to his yeoman's gushing. Jintsuu really liked her composers and musicians. And it was a personal goal of hers to get as many autographs as she could. "She's going to call up her sisters and brag the next chance she gets."
"That doesn't sound like the Yeoman." Arizona frowned as she tried to imagine it. Jintsuu was a little scary at times, but a kind and dedicated woman. Bragging just didn't sound right. She shifted her feet as she tried to imagine such a scene. "I will admit I haven't know her as long as you have, but it does not seem right."
"Let me tell you something about traffic cones." Richardson rapped his fingers against the tablecloth before raising one.
Arizona tilted her head.
Traffic cones?
"They rarely are what they seem. Naka's the flashy, frilly fleet idol, but one of the biggest computer geeks you'll ever meet. She's all but married to a machine that outperforms most supercomputers." At Arizona's disbelieving expression, he realized he'd probably need to show her one of the streams that some of his subordinates invariably sent in a Reply All email. He raised a second finger and continued, "Jintsuu's kind, dedicated, and one of the most reliable girls you'll ever meet."
"But she ...fangirls over musicians and movies?" She knew a little bit about the cinema obsession, but had yet to be exposed to the true depths of it.
"She has a Darth Vader body pillow."
"She, what?" Arizona leaned forward with an accusing glare as her image of Jintsuu was further distorted by her Admiral. "If you are making this up, sir, I will be very displeased."
"I had a hard time believing it even when I found the thing in the wash." Richardson lowered his hand. "...And she's probably going to give me a mouthful when she finds out I just spilled that."
"We all live together. I'm sure I would have found it eventually." She sighed and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Her image of Jintsuu was slowly being cracked and broken, but somehow she felt resigned that she should have expected as much. The Sasebo fleet, while dedicated and effective to the nth degree, was more bonkers than any military unit should be by leagues.
Richardson shrugged as the atmosphere began to lose the awkwardness and slowly started to warm up into something more friendly. Or less rigid at the very least.
"What of Sendai?"
"Sendai?"
"Yes. You didn't mention the nameship." Arizona cast her eyes across the flickering flame between herself and Richardson as she spoke, not really aware of the fact she wasn't much of a blushing mess anymore.
"Oh, right. Well... I've never met Sendai. But most reports involving her involve a lot of yelling. She's a lunatic for night battles apparently." Richardson snorted. "Probably holes up in her room and listens to Beethoven with a snifter full of brandy and a smoking jacket."
"Does she wear a monocle?"
Arizona smiled with ill concealed amusement when Richardson nearly choked on his drink.
"Dammit, Ari! I-" He stopped to clear his airways. "You did that on purpose. Fuck."
"Perhaps." Arizona returned to her usual stern expression as she sipped at her own drink, a dark red wine to match Richardson's. Okay, she would admit she was having a little fun.
"Christ, Mutsu and Hiei are a bad influence."
"Or perhaps you don't know me as well as you claim?"
Richardson just glared at the attractive redhead until she looked away with a dusting of red on her cheeks.
"...I have been spending more time with them, yes." With Hiei almost having almost completely taken over the home and Mutsu back in full swing as XO, there was little time where she was not in proximity to at least one of the two. Mutsu rarely passed up a chance to tease and Hiei's sense of humor was bizarrely infectious.
Before either could speak further, their dinner arrived. Along with the remainder of the wine they had ordered.
Both offered each other a shrug and tucked into their meals.
"That going to be enough for you?" queried Richardson as Arizona began to raise a slice of sausage, nearly dripping with steaming red sauce, to her lips.
"It will... suffice as a snack. I am nearly fully stocked, so there's no need to gorge myself." Heavens knew how much she put away when really hungry. A nice, fancy dinner was not meant to serve as replenishment anyways. It was a luxury if anything. Like catching a particularly tasty fish while underway and having the spare supplies to make something special of it.
"You have no idea how much my bank account thanks you for that." Richardson smirked before taking a bite of the meat ravioli he'd ordered. He had a soft spot for Italian food. Always had.
"Pardon, sir, but you are an ass."
"Guilty."
"How does the Lieutenant Commander put up with you?" Arizona swirled her pasta through the sauce before twirling it up on her fork. It was rather impressive she hadn't spilled a drop on her dress thus far. But not eating like a starved lunatic had it's benefits.
"Because I found the line with her and I don't cross it." He speared another piece of ravioli. "I'm not sure where the line is with you yet, so give me time."
"That's hardly a gentlemanly outlook to take. And not a good example for Jane, sir." Arizona realized she had been the one to cross a line when the Admiral froze before slowly, mechanically taking a bite of his food.
Richardson set down his utensils and leveled a flat stare at Arizona.
"I'm not a gentleman, Arizona. And I'm barely an Admiral." Maintained eye contact even as he reached over to take a swig of his wine, letting the bitter taste roll over his tongue. "And right now, I'm just John Richardson. A jackass trying to raise his daughter the best he can."
"Then-!" Arizona found herself silenced when Richardson simply glared at her.
"Let's finish eating and then we can talk."
The pleasant mood vanished like smoke in the wind as both set to finishing their meals with a machined precision. While it was definitely a delicious dinner, the taste was not nearly up to the standard it had been at the beginning.
When their plates had been cleared and their glasses refilled, they remained silent.
Only the soft glow of the candle's light made any sound as it gave the occasional pop and sputter while burning down.
"Arizona." Richardson's good humor was gone, replaced by the weariness of the day and the soured mood of the evening. The alcohol did not help.
"Admiral." Arizona's own mood had taken a downward turn. Even more so as she began to realize just how her intention might be received now. A part of her was still grinding away at just why she had opted for this course of action.
"Look, you've got something on your chest and it involves me." He tapped his shoulders. "I'm not an Admiral right now. No stars, no anything. Don't hold back. I have enough going on without you despising me on some level. Even more so now that you've brought Jane into this and the fact you live in my home."
Before Arizona could open her painted lips, Richardson held up his hand.
"Treat me like a civilian. Just plain old John Richardson."
Arizona took a deep breath and made her decision. It was for her. All for her.
For that small smile.
For the child who had become so taken with her and whom had helped drive off the dark.
She would repay that kindness. Whatever the cost might be. Even if...
She reached into her purse and withdrew a very specific item. A box, to be specific. It was only large enough to barely fit into her purse without appearing conspicuous. Unwrapped and still bearing a bit of adhesive from the price sticker.
A box containing a scale model of herself.
"John, please allow me to be Jane's mother." And with those words, Battleship Arizona offered the box to the dumbstruck man.
—|—|—
Arizona felt her face heat up with every passing moment as she held the model kit of herself out in offering to her Admiral.
Even in the dim candlelight, she figured her all but glowing embarrassment must have been plainly visible.
Why wasn't he saying anything? Why was he just sitting there? Yes, it came out of the blue. But he was good at thinking on his feet, wasn't he?
Please. Please say something!
The contents of the box rattled slightly as the battleship's hands began to tremble.
"Arizona?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Put the box down, please."
Arizona felt her heart seize, but complied with Richardson's request. The distance between herself and the Admiral seemed to be little more than inches while feeling the same as miles. It was disconcerting and unnerving. Like her entire world had become focused on the man sitting across from her.
She could not tear her eyes away from him, not even to glance at the model kit now dominating the center of the table. Her hands were clenched into nervous fists atop the table and her back was ramrod straight. Were it not for the palpable aura of nervousness and near fear, she might have given off the illusion of determination that had brought her to this point. A bead of cold sweat trailed down her neck and slid down her back.
"I'm going to give you the option of hearing the why before I tell you my answer." Richardson was not faring much better than Arizona, but he was holding himself together far better than the standard was. "But I want to hear why you're doing this and if you even know what you're doing. You're a smart woman. A prude and sometimes a pain in the ass, but you are not stupid. Don't make me think I've misjudged you."
Richardson pushed aside his empty plate so he cloud rest his clasped hands together in front of him. What was this woman thinking... Just, why?
Arizona did her best to not shift beneath Richardson's gaze. She had to give him an answer. And she could not sugarcoat it. Nor could she weave around it. And telling a falsehood to fruitlessly heighten her chances was right out. If she was even capable of such deception.
She was a standard battleship and standards take their foes head-on. She could not run, she could not dance, she could only take every blow and give it back a dozen fold.
"Adm-John." Arizona caught herself before bringing rank into her answer. It felt odd to address her commanding officer so casually. Not unpleasant, but very unusual. "I... I want to be there for your daughter. For Jane. For as long as I am able and to do the best that I can in that capacity. To repay the kindness and love she has shown me."
Arizona's hand reached out to silence Richardson with a pair of shaking fingers upon his lips just as he had been about to speak. Her face burned even more brightly.
"P-Please let me finish."
Richardson nodded and Arizona removed her fingers, leaving behind a warmth he'd not felt in nearly a decade.
"If doing so means..." Arizona trailed off as she set her jaw and locked eyes with Richardson, a steel grey and golden gaze holding him fast with it's intensity. "If doing so means that I would be required to bind myself to you then I will take that step. I will become your wife, the mother and guardian of your children, and remain your steadfast battleship from now into forever."
The Admiral was taken aback by the raw intensity of Arizona's words. So much so that he could barely think past them. A distant memory floated up. One of more peaceful times. Of a younger, far more brash self and a headstrong hobbyist.
"...John?"
Richardson shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Sorry. An old memory."
"A memory?"
"...Yeah. I'll tell you later." He gestured back to Arizona with an open hand. "Then either Jane's doesn't have the full story, or it's just you who's putting that kind of meaning behind it."
Arizona nodded slowly.
"Ideally, I would not even entertain these desires outside of wedlock." A small, almost empty smile flitted across Arizona's lips. "I'm a old-fashioned girl, after all."
Richardson resisted the urge to make a snipe about her infamous Prude Rage and simply nodded.
"And you believe that you can do your best for Jane, for my child, by marrying me and becoming both her mother and mother to her siblings." He worded it less as a question and more as a statement of fact. Shipgirls had their own twisted sense of logic and a part of him was extremely worried he was able to follow it. Seeing one of Albacore's fairy crew had been unreal enough. "Tell me now if I'm wrong."
"You are not wrong." Arizona swallowed yet another bundle of nerves as every fibre of her being remained on edge.
Richardson took a deep breath and prepared himself.
"I will not marry you, Arizona."
Arizona froze.
"For every reason you just listed, and more, I cannot in any kind of good conscience accept your offer and live with myself." He narrowed his eyes at the shaking warship. "You've known Jane for what? Two months? And you're already claiming you've got a foolproof plan to be the best mother possible for her?"
"I-!" Arizona's protest died on her lips as she realized she could not refute Richardson's words. The refusal felt all the worse without his usual expletives and abrasive tone. Her gaze lowered as a tremendous shame settled upon her shoulders. Shame and regret at having gone so far in the dark. Good intentions paved a very dangerous path after all.
"What did you want me to do? Say yes, whisk you off to a chapel so we could exchange vows, and carry you home as my blushing bride?"
"There was a hope you would." Arizona raised her head, stands of copper hair slipping from the silver pins to fall across her face.
"All for Jane's sake?"
"Yes."
Richardson would never have refuted Arizona's dedication to carrying out her mission before this day. Whether self declared or handed down the chain. And if he ever let such a thought cross his mind from this moment onward, this evening would remind him he was the greatest fool who ever lived.
She was placing everything on the line for the happiness of one person.
A single child who had given her a ray of hope amongst her nightmares.
He wanted Arizona to say something. To damn herself in some way. To make this easier in some way possible. But from what he had learned of this battleship, she would not. Not if she could help it.
Arizona seemed to wilt as her hopes were dashed in the ensuing silence.
And Richardson felt wretched for having been the cause.
But he stood from his seat and walked around to where Arizona sat.
She turned to look up at him with a pained expression, marked with questions.
"But I'm going to tell you the biggest fucking reasons I'm saying no." Richardson leaned down and cupped Arizona's cheeks, gently forcing her to face him. He could see the suffering and the confusion in her beautiful, steel grey eyes and the slight twitch of her lips. All encompassed by a fiery blush.
"I don't love you. And you don't love me."
Arizona drew a sharp breath, but did not fight away her Admiral's touch.
He was... He was correct. She knew this. She was attempting to force herself into a loveless marriage for what she hoped would be for Jane's benefit.
"I suppose I have not been completely myself today. B-Between my sister, the madness of the war, the holidays, wanting to make Jane happy, a-and all sorts of things. Perhaps I have not been thinking clearly. There is no love between us..." That was, were she to put further voice to her honesty, quite the understatement. And still, despite the truth of their admissions, it hurt.
It should not hurt to have a hope and a future that never was, denied.
But it did.
"At least you know you're not yourself right now. If this were another time or another place. Maybe if we'd met under different circumstances or in different roles. If we had been in almost any other situation than we are in now." Richardson smirked despite himself. Maybe the wine had made his tongue a bit too free. "Then I would have been overjoyed to put a ring on your finger."
"You are a cad, John Richardson." Arizona sniffed, but managed a smile. Despite the pain in her heart, there was a tremendous relief. "You dare refuse me so strongly and then say such things? You should be glad we are not at sea."
"I said I wasn't a gentleman, Ari."
"And now I am even more concerned for Jane's future." She narrowed slightly misty eyes at the man still cradling her face.
"I'm not going to marry you, but I'm not going to say you can't be Ari-mama for her." Richardson let his gaze flicker down towards Arizona's slightly parted lips, painted a light red for the evening. Not too red, but just the right shade to match her hair... "If I had an issue with it, I'd have put a stop to it when she started calling Hiei that. That good enough for you?"
Arizona released a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She leaned slightly into Richardson's hold without really thinking before giving him a mild smile.
"It is." She raised one eyebrow. "And how long do you intend to hold me?"
"I dunno. How long do I have before you bring out your big guns? Or the rage?" He simply couldn't resist the tease.
"I would give you half a step and no more."
"Harsh."
"You're not letting go."
"Sorry."
With only the barest hints of hesitation, Richardson removed his hands from Arizona.
Arizona herself pursed her lips, but said nothing further.
"I suppose we should get going then. Pay the bill and hit the road." Richardson tried to walk back to his seat, but his steps were uneasy now and it took placing a hand on the table to steady himself.
"John? Are you alright?" Arizona stood as Richardson managed to take his seat. She placed a hand on his shoulder to draw his attention further to herself. He'd seemed fine before. What had happened?
The answer came when he gestured towards the nearly empty wine bottle they had been sharing.
"Oh. I see."
"Been a while since I've had that much."
"And you are hardly a young man anymore. You should take better care of yourself." Arizona frowned, but rebuked him no further. Rather she fetched her purse and began rifling through it, seeking her Navy issued purchase card. It was rather handy to have and certainly better than carrying around so much loose change.
She turned back to Richardson as he tapped her elbow with something hard.
"Here, use mine."
Arizona took the offered card with a nod and left to settle the bill while Richardson remained in his seat, looking more and more exhausted with each passing moment. It seemed that once the energy had settled, the whole of the day's events had come crashing down on him. And he really was not a spring chicken anymore. The drink hadn't helped in the slightest.
He blinked in surprise when Arizona returned far more quickly than expected.
"There was no line. And I told them there was no need to order a taxi," spoke the redhead in response to his querying glance. The transport that had brought them here should be waiting for a summons not far from here. Plus, with the late hour it seemed as if the staff were hoping to close up as quickly as possible so they could get their own rest. She was not about to complain. "Come now, let's get you home."
It took a couple of tries before Richardson was able to haul himself to his feet and he would have sagged to the floor were it not for one of Arizona's strong arms wrapping itself around his shoulder to prop him up. It was a rather amusing sight given the height difference between them.
Wordlessly, she collected her belongings, model kit included, and began helping her Admiral out the door. Her dress was getting slightly rumpled for her efforts, but she paid it no mind.
They waved goodbye and offered their thanks to the staff as they left.
"Hey, Ari?" began Richardson as they sat on one of the benches outside the restaurant, waiting for their ride.
"Yes, John?" she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her arm still supporting him.
"I won't apologize for rejecting you." Even discounting the reasons he had given Arizona, there were certain steps he had sworn himself to not take. Steps that were becoming much, much harder to avoid as time went on.
"I'd have thrown you into the South China Sea if you had." Without hesitation or remorse at that. And possibly with her catapult.
"I will apologize if I was jerk about it."
The streetlights and the blinking skyscrapers seemed to twinkle in the late hour, like the constructions were doing their best to make up for the starlight they dimmed out.
"No more than usual. But thank you for your consideration."
They sat in an oddly comfortable silence all things considered. A barrier had been broken between them. Some unspoken or unknown line had been crossed. And yet, neither felt... displeased with the turn of events that had taken place. Nor the results.
"Transport's taking it's time."
"...They are rather late."
A loud buzzing accompanied by a rather obnoxious ringtone managed to make itself heard over the din of late night traffic. Both Arizona and Richardson looked down in the direction of the left suit pocket belonging to the latter of the two. Richardson himself groaned as he recognized his phone going off. He had chosen that ringtone specifically for the purpose of forcing him to answer with as much haste as possible.
With a bit of fumbling, he managed to fish it out with the arm not currently pinned to his side by the battleship sitting next to him.
"Richardson."
Arizona managed to make out a few words coming from the rather too loud speaker. Things like delays and broken. Not exactly the best of signs.
When her Admiral put the other side on hold, he let out a disgusted sigh.
"May I wager our ride is late?" It seemed well within reason to her. "Or worse?"
"Fun thing about military hardware. When it breaks down, it really breaks down. We can wait for our ride to get repaired or we can wait for a new ride to get here from the base." Apparently even the most well built and durable heavy transports could only handle hauling shipgirls for so long before something finally gave out.
"How would we have to wait?" Arizona was not exactly enjoying the idea of sitting around for possibly hours on end.
"Considering how slow those things are? A few hours at least for a new ride. And that many more back." And that was the fast option. Waiting for a repair could take even longer. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he loosed a truly massive yawn.
Arizona pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. Nothing was ever simple.
"May I suggest we simply find somewhere to stay for the night then?" Her jaw snapped shut with a click as she realized just what she had suggested sounded like. And after tonight's debacle no less! "I-In an a-absolutely platonic sense! Y-You need the rest far more than I do a-and sitting around here waiting will do neither of us any good."
Richardson would honestly admit he was too tired and still a bit too buzzed to really think of a good alternative. And the siren's song of a comfortable bed, even if not his own, was too tempting to resist. He also wasn't enough of a jerk to get a ride of his own back to base and just leave Arizona here all by herself.
"That's fine. We're two relatively sane adults who just need a place to sleep for the night. Not a pair of drunk jackasses looking for some action." He held up his phone and began thumbing around to get ahold of the driver again. "I'll let them know. Give 'em an update when we find a place to stay, too."
While Richardson conveyed the change of plans to the driver, who sounded somewhat relieved and strangely excited at the news, Arizona helped him to his feet again. He was a bit more steady, but she wasn't going to just leave him to his own devices just yet. Perhaps she'd feel more comfortable letting him walk on his own once they got closer to their destination.
"And there's that... He even gave directions for the nearest hotel."
"That was courteous of him." Arizona readjusted her hold on Richardson's taller form as they began walking. It was easier to keep him steady and easier on her own grip if she held him closer to his middle. It also brought up a niggling of rage at her own impropriety, which had been oddly silent as of recent hours. A light blush dusted her cheeks. "You... may put your arm around me if it helps."
"You sure?" Richardson gave his tired question with little resistance.
"I would not have offered otherwise." She did not have to wait long for his arm to rest itself about her shoulders. A grumble escaped her lips as they continued their trek. "But this is still incredibly improper..."
"Could be worse." Another yawn overtook Richardson and left him blinking to regain his sight. He fiddled with his tie to loosen it's hold around his neck.
"I'll ask that you not elaborate."
"Probably for the best."
And so, beneath the lights of the city and under a wintry night sky, a warship and her Admiral walked not as superior and subordinate, but as something more.
—|—|—
Unbeknownst to the pair, a set of utterly dumbfounded pink eyes tracked their every movement.
"That's not possible." She slowly reached up to pinch one of her cheeks and found that she was neither dreaming nor hallucinating. "Iku can't believe it, but Iku is still seeing it."
"See vhat?" queried Hachi.
Iku merely pointed at the slowly retreating form of Arizona and Richardson.
"...Oh dear."