Pre-Comment: I'd like to say that this took hours upon hours to properly weave together with ever-present humour (which is stupidity in and of itself) while at the same time being more than just stupidity (which I think it still is) by having some element of a story, but then I'd be flat out lying through my teeth. And we all know lying is immoral.

So I think I will anyway.

I hope you enjoy this installment I carefully planned, lovingly wrote, and thoughtfully composed into Chapter Eight especially for all of you.


Chapter Eight: Say It Like You Mean It

Upon entering the expansive mansion through the front doors with her skeleton key of the house, Sayoko Shinozaki quickly took note of a few things out of place. With a small hum, she pulled out her handy pad of crisp, pink Post-It Notes and began to make notes on them.

Kneeling down next to the slivered hole in the polished hardwood of the entryway, she stuck the pink note to the ground next to it.

The holes in the walls of the den—where the Master often took tea and guests—behind where her Master often sat warranted another pink note.

A similar mark in the kitchen by the doorway received a third.

This process continued so on and so forth until all two-hundred-thirty-eight rooms of the Kururugi estate had been properly inspected (dusted here and there as was a maid's reflexive habit) and marked accordingly.

Pink flags were prominent most everywhere.

As she laid a hand on the polished, brass handle to her own private quarters—which were untouched as per her hair trigger told her—Sayoko paused, realizing her error in not inspecting the largest room of the estate: The Banquet room. It was an easy room to forget as the Master rarely used it except to entertain large parties or important guests—and even then on very rare occasions.

When the door opened, a polite gasp came to her lips and Sayoko covered her mouth delicately—although a look of surprise was neither here nor there.

Suzaku Kururugi, CEO of the Sakura Group and the wealthiest man alive, had been suspended from the chandelier (swinging with just enough momentum to sway slightly), tied, gagged, and hovering over several upturned, well-sharpened (Sayoko's keen eyes observed idly (Don't ask—you really don't want to know)) knives arranged like a bed of needles.

When her Master's eyes widened and lit up at the sight of her, she could hear muffled screams coming from behind the gag tied around his mouth as he wiggled a bit—but not a enough to loosen his bonds.

Sayoko tutted silently and shook her head at him before making the rounds around the room and cleaning a bit of dust here and there and attaching a few more Post-It notes—one on the large mirror and another on the window to the veranda.

All the while she hummed quite contentedly as she completed her duties, polishing the mirror and eventually clearing the knives away on the table and replacing them in their proper positions in the kitchen.

After the room was properly tidied, she left to retrieve the large garden clippers from the shed in the back before daintily stepping onto the polished mahogany table and cutting her Master free from the chandelier with a single clip.

Taking a knife from her belt, she cut the ties around his hands and ankles, leaving the rest for him.

She then stepped down from the table, held her hands together politely, bowed to her Master, and left without a single word to him.

The very next week she noticed a remarkable increase to her salary with no particular reasoning attached.

And she was okay with that.


Two weeks.

It had been the sum total of two weeks since the dev—Marianne vi Britannia had stopped by and things were never better.

Marianne was an exciting woman—even CC would freely admit that. The qualities this woman possessed reeked of independence and authority all over, and it was thrilling. And impressive. Marianne vi Britannia was the kind of woman you could really envision succeeding in—with flying colours to boot—taking over the world.

She was brave.

She was gallant.

She threw knives.

She was a prince charming wearing women's clothing, and ever-present silk gloves in the same way a germophobe would wear latex ones.

And she was very, very frightening.

What wasn't there to love and admire?

It was quite safe to say CC had found a permanent role model.

And if Marianne weren't a woman (which she so very was) CC would probably be in love.

For the most part, CC had spent just about every second of Marianne's stay with Marianne. Shopping; talking about Lelouch; going on dates and other excursions into the city; talking about the girls Lelouch liked; modelling cute outfits for Marianne to admire; talking about the clothes Lelouch liked, and generally spending time getting to know the older woman. It was through all this that CC finally clued into the reoccurring number one subject of conversation: Namely Lelouch.

CC wasn't stupid; she understood what Marianne was getting at after a while.

And, for the most part, she was okay with that.

What she wasn't okay with was Lelouch flirting up a storm with some random girl at a café half a block away when he should be with his pseudo-boyfriend.

CC bristled slightly.

Marching right up to them—

Lelouch said something irritating, for the girl sent a light punch to his arm.

—fuming with all intent to—

The sound of their light-hearted conversation was now lightly drifting to her ears.

—show that idiot the definition of—

He tilted her chin up, moving closer—going in for the kill.

—what it is to suck it up and finish—

Taking her hand, he planted a gentle kiss on it. "You remind me of roses—skin just as soft and sweet-smelling. I could breathe in your—"

Her hand darted out for his ear and twisted it.

Rather painfully, if the shriek—"AHHH!"—of agony was anything to go by.

"Sorry, Miss Elizabeth, this man is a crook and a scoundrel. Not only that, but he's quite taken."

If CC were actually his girlfriend, she had to commend herself for playing the I've-just-caught-my-boy-cheating-and-now-he's-going-to-be-whipped-in-a-very-literal-sense girlfriend role well.

Lelouch sputtered. "CC! What are you—"

"By another man," she added belatedly for just the right effect.

Elizabeth gasped and her eyes widened expectedly in shock and amazement.

Hers weren't the only ones.

"Mr Lamperouge… you're…"

Lelouch turned to glare at CC just in time to see her grin quite triumphantly. "That's right, sweetheart, he's gay. G. A. Y. He bats for the other team, is completely out of the closet, wears tight black hoo—"

A hand was clamped over her mouth.

Elizabeth looked confused.

Lelouch looked pissed.

Muffled protests marked their hasty exit into the nearest alley without another word to Elizabeth.

"What the heck do you think you're doing? I was in the middle of a job!"

CC frowned, undeterred.

"What am I doing? What are you doing? She's not your job right now—Suzaku is. I really tried not to ask when you came home two weeks ago—sulking—but no, really, what gives?"

Folding his arms, Lelouch looked away. A look of slight discomfort spread over his face. "We broke up. I'm moving to New York with my mother once the house is sold."

CC's face fell and her shoulders fell with it.

It was like saying Pizza Hut was closing down for business.

And so she panicked just a little.

"What about your pool? My pizza? Your fancy-shmancy car you're going to drive around Pendragon with?"

And then the question CC didn't vocalize.

What about me?

Lelouch was all she had.

"My mother is rich—very rich. I'm sure she can supply all the pizza you want over there—my football-field-sized swimming pool and car too. It's a big house—I visited it only once, a few years ago. I'm sure she's made renovations since then."

He offered her a reassuring smile.

Mentally, she sighed in relief—for just a second.

Turning around, she leaned against the wall next to him and looked to him expectantly. Lelouch had always been the one to give the final decision on the targets. Occasionally he poked and prodded her to do something—to 'earn her keep' as it were. More often than not, though, he was content to do enough lying for them both.

Despite her griping and her complaining at the beginning of all this idiocy, she enjoyed it and was kind of sad to leave Japan.

(And their godly prowess at making pizza.)

Even so, she wasn't wont to argue his decision—especially with that troubled look on his face.

"Okay," she sighed, finally acceding. "What—"

"Just something," he said in that stubborn I'm-not-telling-you kind of way.

CC knew better than to argue for it right now.

He held his hand out to her, looking away.

Lelouch looked like a little boy desperate for his mother.

(Who was readily available and within the borders of the country.)

Even so.

CC took his hand as he squeezed it tightly for a moment as they made their way back home.

"Should I make something up for the next time he calls, then?"

Suzaku had been calling the house nearly non-stop for a good majority of the two weeks Lelouch had not seen him. The constant ring had finally stopped a few days ago—but only because CC had found the phones in the house disconnected (after trying three times to dial Pizza Hut) and Lelouch's mobile in the back of his closet with triple-digit missed calls.

"Tell him… Tell him…" Lelouch sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tell him whatever you want. Tell him I died. Tell him I got hit by a bus. Tell him I went home. Tell him I eloped with you."

As Lelouch's voice got quieter, CC knew better than to dig deeper. If it was important, he'd let her know. If it wasn't, she wouldn't nose around. Lelouch didn't like talking about himself and he didn't appreciate other people investigating him.

Because of this, she had to pay close attention to him.

So by the time they reached the door of their house and he was searching all over for his keys, CC realized something bad must've happened.

"Can I tell him off?"


"Tell that bit—I mean, that charming woman to go and shove it. Nicely of course."

And you really have to wonder how something like that could possibly be said nicely.

"I won't hand over the designs for next season until they're good and ready."

"But, Miss Marianne, Miss Lohmeyer is—"

"And just who signs your paycheques every month, Alice? Just who is the president of the company you work for?"

There was a grumble from the other end.

"I understand, Miss. Shall I fax the rest of the details to you tomorrow, then?"

"I want them done tonight, Alice," she said nicely, in her get-it-done-or-it's-your-job voice. "I want thread counts on everything—especially that hideous 'bubble' one. Can you do that?"

Hesitation.

"Probably not, but I'll make sure it happens anyway, Miss."

"Good. I like to see productivity. Refer to Sancia for everything else. I want fall fashion designs to be on my desk by the time I return. Let the dear know that, won't you, Alice darling?"

The buzzer on her temporary apartment suite went off—announcing a visitor.

"Of course, Miss. There's also the matter regarding—"

"I refuse—let them know that, won't you?" she cut off sharply, waving Jeremiah away to go answer the door.

"Right. I'll let them know. Lucretia is also still asking for your opinion on—"

"I'll have to think about that one. Let them know that—"

Lelouch walked in.

"—Alice, love, I'll call you back later."

"What? Wait! Miss Maria—"

CLICK.

Springing to her feet, Marianne ran at Lelouch, throwing her arms around him tightly. "Lelouch! My darling son! You've come to visit me!" she gushed with utter glee.

There were a few strangled protests and Marianne relented only slightly, holding her son at arms length. It had been a long time since she last saw him, but he looked just as handsome as she remembered him. It was no wonder he attracted deviants of society like—

But that was neither here nor there.

And he was neither here nor there.

But she really wished he was.

So she could test out the sharpness of her knife collection against the soft squishy centre of his back.

Multiple times.

"How are you enjoying your stay in Japan, Mother?"

Giving him another tight hug to which he complied, Marianne let go of him and twirled around to look out her window. "Oh, it's lovely, dear—simply lovely. The people are wonderful; I may consider opening a branch here—to come and visit you."

Lelouch laughed, standing up next to her. "I don't plan on living here, Mother. I'll be returning to Britannia if things don't work out here."

"I see. Won't you consider joining me in New York then? With CC."

Marianne was keenly aware of her son's living arrangements with the other woman and was proud of Lelouch for having the decency of separate rooms—at separate ends of the hallway.

He hesitated and his eyes shifted slightly.

She had offered many times, but Lelouch had refused each and every single one—appointing reason that he had to keep one or another of his sister's company. So it came as a lesser shock to find him on his own—in Japan—instead of at home—back in Britannia, surrounded by good Britannian women.

"I… I'll think about it."

Sighing quietly, Marianne had to just live with this.

Lelouch would probably never come live with her in New York.

"So, how is CC anyway? What a charming young girl—I love her so. She makes a wonderful model, you know. Her thighs are just the right—"

"Mother, I'd like to ask your opinion of Suzaku."

Her smile faltered.

Just a little.

Jeremiah, who had been secretly listening and observing this whole time, cleared his throat and ruffled papers around on his desk to make up for the awkward silence.

Neither turned to look at him but both were grateful for the filler.

Marianne blinked a few times in confusion and shook her head just slightly. "I'm sorry; I don't think I quite caught that, Lelouch dear."

Lelouch pursed his lips—a nervous habit he hadn't quite gotten rid of she saw.

"He's… Despite what happened, he's really important to me, Mother."

Marianne felt every cell in her body tremble slightly.

Her eyebrows rose.

"Important? How important?"

Lelouch swallowed and looked away. "Quite important to me."

(Important in the way that he'd allow sexual harassment (unhappily but willingly nonetheless) of the nth degree for the keys to Fort Knox Suzaku surely owned.)

Marianne sighed and closed her eyes sitting down. Folding her legs and crossing her arms, she fixed her youngest and most beloved son with stern eyes.

"I disapprove, Lelouch. To think you would come out of the closet and—"

"I haven't!" he protested. "I just… he's a special case for me… so… please, Mother?"

Lelouch looked up at her.

She had to look away now or else—

Too late.

"For me?"

Kicked Puppy Look Inc. All rights reserved.

Marianne's resistances shattered instantly.

A heavy sigh slumped her shoulders as she rubbed her temple. "Oh, Lelouch… I had to find out this way that my youngest son is a shirt-lifter?"

Lelouch winced visibly.

(He wasn't wont to point out to his mother, of all people, that his shirt was metaphorically the one receiving the lifting.)

"I'm sorry, Mother. Give him a chance, won't you? If he… If Suzaku doesn't pass, CC and I will move to New York with you. No complaints."

Oooh.

He was making a deal.

A deal with a high chance to end in her favour.

"Lelouch…" she whispered softly. "Would you really?"

He nodded.

Marianne sighed heavily.

She could feel a migraine coming on.

She couldn't win against that look AND this.

Lelouch was offering a game to her with the prize being something she had been wanting for a very long time. (Next to finding him a bride and being the one to marry him—she was more or less certain CC fit the bill.) It was a game and Lelouch knew she liked games.

More than the games, she really just enjoyed winning.

"Very well, if you're that insistent, I'll give him one chance. I hope he knows a good restaurant to treat me to dinner."

And she intended to.

Win, that is.


"…and make sure you—"

"I'll be fine, CC," he assured, swatting her hands away from fiddling with his collar, adjusting it himself. "I've gotten over what happened—" Mostly. "—I don't think he'd do something like that in front of my Mother. He's got that much decency—" Hopefully. "—Besides, this was your idea."

Since CC had offered to beat the living tar out of Suzaku verbally without even knowing the reason why, Lelouch had caved and told her what had happened. A part of him was happy he did it, while another part of him was a little anxious about doing it. Sharing with CC on what happened (Lelouch conveniently left out the crying like a little girl part) only fuelled her desire to see Suzaku come to harm in the maimed and decapitated sort of way.

(There was a third way she proudly announced she would maim him, but Lelouch wasn't about to go into the details and how it would inevitably leave Suzaku childless forevermore.)

After calming down, Lelouch had observed her observe him as he talked idly about how great and wonderful New York would be with synthetic passion and enthusiasm.

Most likely he would end up helping his mother with her company and he'd have to reconnect with his family and—there was an entire list of things Lelouch didn't want to do. Going to New York meant doing all of those things he had been avoiding for the past couple years of his life.

To be honest, he really liked life the way it was.

Although his occupation wasn't exactly altogether respectable, he was pretty so he got away with a lot of things.

Which was (still) true considering Kallen a while ago.

(Suzaku bailing him out initially was a minor detail in his mind.)

Exploiting the stupidity and loose wallets of others was something of a thrill. It was like finding the answer to that really hard puzzle you took seven days to figure out. Not only that, but it was a good source of inflating your income.

That much said, Lelouch really didn't want to go to New York with his mother because it meant an end to conning—whichshemustneverevereverevereverfindoutabout.

But he wasn't sure if he wanted to stay here with Mr Sexual-Assault-And-There-Ain't-Nothing-You-Can-Do-About-It.

"—not listening to me."

No, he really wasn't, if all the internal monologue had anything to say about it.

Jerking his head up, Lelouch turned to look at CC—who was concerned but feigning irritation. She was really good at that, but Lelouch had been there to see that look grow and develop, and was now immune to its charms.

"Sorry," he muttered.

But sometimes it still got him.

CC watched him for a little longer and sighed, ruffling his hair slightly. "Look, maybe this was a bad idea. We can—"

"No!" he cried, panicking at the thought of having to go to New York by default. "No… I'll do it."

Least of all he wanted pity from CC.

He would take crap from anyone within an inch of his life, would cross-dress to save his hide, would endure sexual harassment for money, and would lie about his not-so assassinated mother and not-really abusive father time and time again, but he didn't want to take pity from CC.

He was the one who took care of her, not the other way 'round.

"Okay. Make it look good, then. Marianne's out for blood tonight, I can feel it."

"I know; I know she is. I just hope—"

Doorbell.

They both turned to look at each other.

"Did you order—I cooked tonight! I swear if you—"

"Cool your jets, no I didn't."

Lelouch grumbled, leaving the room with CC following closely behind. They hadn't made a ton of friends in Japan—CC wasn't a socialite and Lelouch had bigger concerns—and no one knew where they lived. For the most part they had avoided telling people their residence incase murderous intent ever sprang to life in some unsuspecting victim and good thriller book plots came true in an adapted-to-life sort-of way.

CC peeled off to the kitchen while Lelouch grumbled about random nobodies visiting him.

"CC, I swear, if it's a door-to-door salesman I'm going to—"

It was Suzaku.

Green eyes lit up and he instantly adopted an apologetic look of remorse. "Lelouch, I'm s—"

SLAM.

CC's head popped out from the kitchen. "Who was it?"

"No one important. And certainly not a serial up-and-coming rapist ex-pseudo-boyfriend of mine."

Giggling, CC walked out and ruffled Lelouch's hair on the way to the door, opening it up for Suzaku, letting him in and apologizing somewhat insincerely for Lelouch's earlier rudeness. Luckily, Suzaku didn't spend as much time around CC as he did and took it as a real apology.

"I'll be in my room if you need me, CC," he said pointedly, glaring any protest Suzaku was about to make out of him.

CC giggled again and walked up to him, kissing him on the cheek. "Okay."

The flash of—of something—in Suzaku's eyes didn't go entirely unnoticed.

(Well, not by CC to be terribly specific.)

So then Lelouch went upstairs and lay down on his bed, forgot that his suit was silk, remembering, frowning, and then sitting up and straightening himself out in front of the mirror.

And then he remembered that this was a suit Suzaku had bought for him and proceeded to strip it off, starting with the tie, jacket, shirt, pants, and then—

Suzaku appeared in the doorway.

"Lelouch, I—Ohmygod!"

And then he promptly turned around.

Instead of leaving.

Once a pervert boyfriend, always a pervert boyfriend, it seemed.

Lelouch, to put it simply, was more than just a little mortified with no real way to lessen his embarrassment. Half of him had expected Suzaku to do the go-to-him-and-band-aid-the-situation thing and the other half expected him to be too remorseful and ashamed to do something like that.

Obviously, Suzaku was of the can-do sort.

Lelouch was of the get-out-of-my-room-while-I'm-practically-naked sort.

And he decided now was probably a really good time to voice that.

"Get out."

"Look, you're probably still angry about—"

"Angry? Who's angry? I didn't say anything about me being angry—especially at you for—"

"Lelouch…"

"Get out."

Suzaku sighed, and—much to Lelouch's horror—sat down in the doorway; turned away from Lelouch—who was stripped to his briefs.

"I think I deserve more than that."

Lelouch snorted.

"I think I deserve a castle and the title deed to my own country, but you don't see me crying about it."

Another long sigh.

Suzaku probably felt horrible.

Well good.

Lelouch wanted this psychopath to feel horrible.

He was being unnecessarily snippy about this right now, but he felt he deserved the right to be. Seeing Suzaku for the first time in two weeks, not hovering over him with eyes full of mal-intent and making him cry, had brought to life all the frustration and indecision he felt about really just picking up and leaving.

CC was the one who phoned Suzaku up for dinner plans. (Minus verbal whiplash.)

Lelouch was the one who handled his mother.

Of course, CC had gone over how to deal with Suzaku when they finally came face-to-face, but all her knowledge, questionable wisdom—

(Pull out the waterworks again and he'll be putty in your hands!)

(Lelouch was, if possible, more horrified. (Partially at the fact that CC had figured out he cried like a little girl without him telling.))

—and rather effective role-playing effectively went to pot the second he saw Suzaku at the door. So right now he was feeling pent-up frustration and various other emotions from their last encounter after fermenting for two weeks.

There was a rather fitting lull of silence where neither spoke.

And finally—

"You were an ass."

Suzaku flinched but didn't say anything.

There was another lull of silence.

And then something CC had told Lelouch a long time ago came to mind.

CC Emasculation Lesson Two: Be forgiving.

Sighing, Lelouch folded his arms and turned away, angry with himself that he was doing this—angry with himself that such obscure advice came to him when he wanted to be angry at Suzaku—when he had good reason to be angry at Suzaku.

More than all of that, he was angry with himself for remembering what CC had dubbed such a lesson as, and angry at himself for remembering that it was his fault he got the lesson in the first place.

And I quote: 'Teach me everything there is about being a woman!'

With enough said—

"You were an ass, and I forgive you," he ground out grudgingly.

Arms quickly circled him and Lelouch squawked slightly, trying to get away—his escape mechanism had come back in place of the allergic reaction. (His internal system has sensed the priority to keep it after the last encounter with his deviant ex-not-ex-pseudo-boyfriend left him a mess.)

After a bit of instinctive struggling to get away, Lelouch gave up.

It was pointless to struggle against Suzaku's unnecessary (and very much unwanted) affections, so Lelouch had given up on preventing it.

And when it came to Suzaku, Lelouch realized he had given up many things: Like his dignity.

And his pride.

And his masculinity.

And his common sense.

And his better judgement.

And typically better reasoning.

And the right to deny dressing up in women's clothing for another man.

Lelouch had given up many things.

"I'm really sorry," Suzaku whispered, sounding horribly remorseful.

"I forgive you," Lelouch repeated quietly.

A small corner of Lelouch's mind couldn't believe he was doing this.

Barely dressed, that is.

After that time he had to run around the mall pants-less—

Actually, let's not bring that up right now.

Point was that Lelouch was more or less comfortable with being more than just a little undressed in public due to certain events. Occurring multiple times on different occasions and during various seasons.

In fact, Lelouch was probably more uncomfortable about the hugging still going on than being barely dressed in front of Suzaku.

Which really said something.

"I've never—I'm sorry. I really hurt you and you—"

"Just forget it happened."

"No." Suzaku held him at arms length. He looked determined—probably determined to make it up to him in some way or another that Lelouch would probably like him less for. It was this determination that twinkled in his set eyes.

Lelouch didn't like that look. He didn't like that look at all.

"I was really horrible to you! I just lost control and—and—to you I—I'm so—"

"Don't mention it," Lelouch said briskly, cutting him off with a pointed look.

Suzaku sighed and his shoulders relaxed. And then he grinned.

Mental note: Grinning Suzaku equals Evil Suzaku.

"I really couldn't help myself though. You were just so cute with your face flushed and—"

"Isaiddon'tmentionit!" Lelouch sputtered, feeling his face turning red with embarrassment.

"—I just wanted to eat—"

"ISAIDDON'TMENTIONIT!"

And Suzaku laughed.

CC's head popped in the doorway. "Hey, you lovebirds will be late for your dinner-date with Mommy." And then she took in Lelouch's generally undressed appearance. "If you're going to make with the hanky-panky go to a—"

Lelouch turned redder. "We're not!"


Something was off.

Admittedly, she hadn't seen Lelouch in forever, but she knew her son—and she knew her son well. A few years couldn't change him that much. He was still the same Lelouch she remembered him to be—there were just some things about people you couldn't change.

Something was off.

It could've been the way Suzaku was not mindful of the fact that the object of his affections' mother was sitting at the round table with him.

It could've been the way Lelouch sometimes even forgot she was there.

It could've been how Marianne noticed the looks they seemed to pass each other—like perfect lovers with perfect chemistry.

It could've been the way Lelouch blushed at almost everything Suzaku said that pertained to their relationship when they remembered she was present.

It could've been a lot of things.

Marianne couldn't be sure.

Through the entire first hour, she had made pleasantries with them both until the meal was finished and Lelouch was pouring her a glass of very expensive wine expertly—just like they do in France.

"So, Mother, how was your flight to Japan?"

Upon hearing the news, Marianne had written a hasty letter addressed to him and bribed every official she knew to make sure it got there as soon as was humanly possible. And then she had hopped a plane herself after gathering a few important necessities together.

Like her knife collection.

The entire flight was spent thinking of ways you could literally skin a person alive. (Marianne was willing to experiment and make a few errors learning the right way to do it on Suzaku.)

"It was wonderful. Charming, in fact. The Japanese really do know their hospitality points," she said with a wink to Suzaku—who shyly looked away.

"That's good to hear. And how is business going for you?"

Suzaku perked up. "You own a business?"

"Yes. It's a fashion company; we own several labels and styles popular all over Europe and North America."

"Ah, that's very interesting. So that's where Lelouch received his amazing sense of style from. It's really easy to see where he got the looks from too," he added with a sly look Lelouch's way.

A dust of red rose to Lelouch's cheeks. "Suzaku…" he reprimanded lightly.

Marianne twitched slightly.

Something was off.

"So, Miss Britannia, are you unmarried then? I notice your last names are different."

Lelouch's eyes went wide and Marianne caught the lie in her son's eyes when she saw it. Far be it from her to condone something as amoral as lying but she had bigger things to worry about than her son's fibs.

Like her son's boyfriend.

Pulling off her glove, she displayed the bejewelled, sparkling wedding band on her hand to Suzaku. It—and all thirty-two of the real diamonds embedded in it—shone in the candlelight.

"I am still very much married and in love with my husband."

Even though they lived apart.

In separate countries across an ocean.

Suzaku looked to Lelouch, who was avoiding eye contact.

"Lelouch goes by a different last name because he doesn't wish to be connected to me. I also model and sing as well."

His eyebrows shot upwards in genuine admiration. "Wow. You're very talented. Just like Lelouch," he added, wagging his eyebrows in Lelouch's direction.

Lelouch's cheeks burned. "Suzaku…"

Marianne sniffed a bit of sexual undertone to that.

She twitched again.

"I see. Suzaku darling, you must forgive me, but this is a question all parents must ask of their children's significant others." Frostily, she asked, "What are your intentions for my son?"

Pretending to be gay; feeding the media lies about being gay; sexually harassing him about being gay; dressing him in women's clothing.

And then some.

But Suzaku sure as hell wasn't going to say any of that.

"Well, he's a very special person to me. I intend to do everything I can to make him as happy as possible," he said warmly, with an equally warm look sent in Lelouch's direction.

It was the staple answer, and Marianne wasn't going to stop with just that, but she couldn't ignore the blatant red staining her favourite and youngest son's cheeks.

"I see. Lelouch, what are your intentions for Suzaku?"

Taking all his money.

"I—ah… I don't know. Nothing really. He makes me happy."

Marianne felt her resistances crumbling.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Marianne looked from Suzaku to Lelouch and back again. The subtle look of hope from her son for her approval of Suzaku didn't go entirely unnoticed either. Suzaku seemed to be on his best behaviour as well in this final stretch.

For someone far too fond of her youngest son for her own good, she could only really cave to his wishes and that look he was sending her.

(In the end, she was the one responsible for teaching that look to him—for it was very effective against Charles she had learned early-on into the marriage.)

"Very well. If this is your decision, Lelouch, I can accept that. If he is what makes you happy, then I am happy with him."

Mutual looks of relief passed over both their faces, and even during that all Marianne could think was—

Something was off.

Not just a little something.

A big something.

And Marianne wasn't particularly fond of that something.

As she merely nodded and smiled and made small chat with the both of them, continually watching the small displays of affection between her son and Suzaku, Marianne couldn't help but think it over.

There was more teasing.

More blushing.

More generally ignoring her being—

Oh, so it was that.

That was what was off.

This degenerate out of nowhere had stolen her son's affections away from her to the point of 'Oh, hey Mom, I guess you're here too.'

It didn't sit well with her.

It didn't sit well with her at all.

It meant less of Lelouch's attention was on her.

That also meant less planting seeds on how wonderful a wife CC would make so she could take advantage of those perfectly shaped hips and thighs on the girl.

More importantly, it meant that Lelouch was growing up and no longer her little baby anymore.

(Out of the closet, but she didn't want to think about that—Charles could deal with that when and if he ever heard about this.)

(Which he would.)

This time, when Marianne looked at Suzaku, she saw not only Lelouch's grudgingly-accepted boyfriend, but she saw Suzaku: Thief of Lelouch's Affections.

To put it rather simply, she saw Suzaku as a rival.

And the best way to get rid of a rival was to beat them ruthlessly.

There was a better way, but that involved a lot of blood and was still slightly illegal in Japan.

When the dinner ended and Lelouch had taken a quick trip to the bathroom while they waited outside, Marianne turned to Suzaku.

"I'm really happy for you both, truly. I must apologize for the other day, I could've sworn something large and deviant was attacking my son," she said sweetly.

Suzaku blinked. "…thanks."

Smiling, she leaned in a little closer. "Suzaku darling, I'll let you in on a little secret." Here she winked at him in a conspiratorial manner. "While I couldn't bring my precious shotgun into this firearms-are-banned country of yours, I am a wicked throw with knives. Luckily I have my knife collection with me," she said cheerfully, clasping her hands together. "I think you two would make perfect friends with each other!"

Cue look of terror.

No, Marianne wasn't going to lose this.

This game wasn't lost just yet.

Suzaku swallowed. "I—"

And then Lelouch finally came out, addressing Suzaku with, "Ready to go home?"

Marianne waved ta-ta to them both happily as they disappeared into a sleek, black limousine. The smile never left her face as she imagined how many creative ways she could arrange one's head on a pike.

Preferably on fire.

In that very moment, Marianne vi Britannia had found a new happy place.


Comment:

Well, gosh. Who doesn't deserve a castle and the title deed to a country? Especially me. I might settle for more souls, though. *Hint Hint*

Since revenue costs are high elsewhere, I'm going to shamelessly promote "Pizza Hut: A Slice of Heaven", my other, er, monster here. Go read it. If you like "Liar Liar" you'll like this one. If you don't like "Liar Liar", what the heck are you doing reading it for eight chapters to have read this comment? I love me too, but that's just creepy if reading these comments is all you're doing.

Okay, I'm done with asking about your favourites for now. So. Minute Maid, Coke, or Pepsi?

I think your answer should be obvious here.

Please R&R. (Otherwise I might actually go on hiatus. I found some new and shiny Photoshop brushes that are tempting me something awful.)

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.