Angel Fantasy: B-But- I mean... I know I could do it, I am physically capable of writing a lemon, but that doesn't mean I'll be good at it or anything. Sure, I've read more than a few in my time of flitting around different fanfiction, and as a guy I most certainly don't have a problem with them, but... Me myself writing one... I don't know if I could do that. I'd be too embarrassed. Not just at the quality (I might actually be good at it, for all I know, but maybe not), but there is something... intimate about writing, much more so than simply reading, which can be a rush in itself. It's not something I can describe well, I could spend pages and pages trying to explain, but halfway through this story I became serious about it, and once I reached that point... I'm sorry, for not being able to explain this well, but the only thing I can say is I'd be embarrassed to write one. Though, I suppose if there was a high enough demand for one, and by that I mean other people as well, I could do it... I might add a poll about it, later. Ugh, sorry. I hate denying readers stuff...

*This chapter is in tribute to those kindly folks who suggested OpenOffice.


Requiem of Time: Chapter Thirty - Allen (d-d-d-double Allen bonus!)


Allen didn't watch as she entered.

He heard the door form as the last tune faded into the air, and he stood up, still facing the piano. Slowly, he collected his Marshal's jacket from the top of the piano and just as slowly slipped it on, not bothering with zipping it closed. He heard the door open just as his arm reached the end of the sleeve, and he stopped there, stiffening.

He could hear the soft sounds of her boots as she walked in. She didn't skip upon entering, it didn't have that kind of beat to it. Then there was a silence as she stopped moving. Allen judged her to be in the center of the room, and he knew that she'd be watching him. Or the Fourteenth, in the mirror. She, a Noah, could also see the haunting specter that followed him through reflections, though his wife - so close, yet so far apart - had grown used to it, as he had, and thus no longer really noticed.

Since she was not his wife, she could be looking at either.

Allen felt something wet in his hand, and looking down he saw blood instead of sweat. He carefully unclenched his fist, finally noticing the dull pain.

When he could bear it no more, Allen finally turned to face her. The silence was maddening, clawing at his lower spine. He had to see her. He had to- And there she was.

Rhode Camelot, with her wild blue hair and dark, dark purple eyes. In her human form, of course. She wore the same blouse and skirt she had been in when he last saw her in the dining room, yet as always he found her irresistibly cute. His wife. His wi- Not his wife. Could be his wife. Should be. Will be? Was?

Allen shuddered, trying to manage his thoughts, though his steely grey eyes didn't leave Rhode.

Her hands were clasped behind her skirt, weight shifted on one leg, with a shy smile on her face, her eyes wide and full, near sparkling in the dazzling white room. That alone told him much. Almost too much. She was nervous but determined, and that smile gave away her intentions entirely. Did she really...?

"Allen-" she started, at the same time he blurted, "Rhode-"

They stopped short to let the other go, and at the sudden silence broke into an awkward laugh. After, Rhode took charge, her grin a bit more confident and mischievous, like her usual self. "So I hear that we're married."

Allen huffed a laugh, but didn't comment on that. No, with the conversation with Cross so fresh in his mind, he was bursting to tell her the truth, to honestly get his Rhode back. This girl, the lovely, lovable girl was sadly only a shadow of the one he truly loved, and he desperately, helplessly wanted her back.

"Rhode-chan, I found how to get the rest of your memories back," he said with conviction. Strange, he had felt ready to collapse from weariness mere moments ago, and yet now he felt light and invigorated, once Rhode appeared. Rhode's smile dimmed only slightly by what he said, and he pressed on.

Allen explained what Cross had told him, the theory, and what it would take for her to finally recover what he had lost. The black Crown Clown left to finish its work, for her to remain entrapped to the agony that entitled. Rhode in pain - that hurt him so, so much, yet to have her back he would let that stain his soul.

Rhode listened to what he had to say, and by the time he was done her face was the blank that only a Noah could manage. Had taught him to manage, once. Instead of answering immediately, Rhode took a step forward. Then another, and another, until it was just the piano's bench between them. Then, using that to gain height, she jumped up and kissed him.

Her arms snaked inside his coat, pressing them together intimately, while her legs also wrapped around his solid torso to stay face-to-face with him, lip-locked. Allen reacted immediately, after only a slight hesitation of shock. His human hand when under her, supporting her, while his deactivated Innocence wrapped around her, both arms clutching her to him tightly.

Even through the blouse, she made contact with the blotch of Innocence over his heart, and bolts of pain lanced through both of them during the kiss. Pain of that magnitude would bother most people, yet to them, whom had such masochistic control over the sensation, it merely brought out more passion. Allen and Rhode moaned into the kiss, and soon a fair amount of tongue was added.

All good things had to come to an end, eventually, and slowly - very reluctantly - they parted, a thin trail of saliva connecting them before it snapped. Rhode had a roguish grin on her face, while Allen's face was set in one of long denied bliss. Both were flushed, and their breathing was audible.

Allen's hand moved from her soft bottom, stealing a quick squeeze that earned him a sly look, and she reluctantly released him with her legs, allowing her to stand on the bench. From there, she stood over him, with her hands on his shoulders and maintaining a heated look, before she stepped back and landed softly on the ground, slowly building a distance between them.

Eventually, she stopped, her face that blank once again, and she gave him a single nod. The blood that heated Allen's face receded unnaturally fast as he grasped his left arm and pulled. The comforting light burst out as his arm gave way to a hilt, and he was instead pulling out his sword.

Once the sword was completely out, ending in the black seal, the apparition appeared between him and Rhode. Malice and unease rose in Allen as he glared at it, and then glared at the black Crown Clown. Two steps, a hard right, duck, cleave, turn, slice other way. That would bring it down, had his sword not been of Innocence. But that wasn't his intention.

Damn his soul, it wasn't.

Rhode took a step forward, towards the silently hovering cloak. "Oi," she called to it, "give me back to my Allen." Her voice didn't tremble, didn't sound angry, or afraid, or sad. Or happy or eager. Yet, how could she stand so casually in face of that much pain? Pain that not even she could pull joy from?

Rhode walked right into the cloak, fearlessly, and it twirled to envelop her. The mask fitted over her head, the Crown's Edge burst to life to surround her left arm, the sleeve worked its way down her right. Funny, Allen could almost see himself fighting next to her like that, wearing Crown Clown. That cloak almost suited her.

Rhode began screaming.

****

Lulubell's footsteps were soundless as she approached the door, slitted golden eyes glaring - no longer hidden behind her shades. Five steps away from the door, her hand morphed into her tailed whip. Allen Walker's life would be hers.

She had gone to her sister's room, not long ago, to ask for a Door that would take her to this Ark. She had got what she wanted, though she never actually was able to ask. She barely caught sight of Rhode escaping into her door, and was quick to follow. She did not want to have to wait for the eldest Noah to return from wherever she was going.

Surprisingly, she had ended up on the old Ark of all places, exactly where she wanted to be. She again barely caught sight of Rhode running off ahead, calling Allen Walker's name. Disguising herself, Lulubell had followed.

A door had formed, eventually, and she watched as Rhode had entered. The door closed behind the girl, but she knew that Allen Walker would be within. Everything was going perfect. She had then transformed back to her Noah form.

And now, only a couple measly steps away from finally being done with the fool Marshal who could twist her mind around, somehow, (and damn the phantom memories that say otherwise!) something else happened. A black apparition had appeared, a familiar one that sent her mind running. A heartbeat later, an old nemesis hovered there.

Lulubell glared at the black cloak, her whip splitting into several. She struck, and, as she feared and expected, the cloak flowed through the tendrils and was to her in an instant. Lulubell shifted into water, hoping that helped, but instead it still wrapped around her. She shifted into air, desperate to get away, but it was too late.

The essence of the cloak, a filthy, burning blight, seeped into her from all sides, and from there the filth burned a crippling, twisting inferno all the way to her brain. The moment it reached her mind, it blanked with the pain, and she was left to scream.

****

Her mouth was opened wipe, letting out that awful sound that cut into Allen's soul. Rhode fell to her knees, unable to remain standing, and eventually curled into a small ball. Allen several times reached out as if to provide comfort, but twice he had to avoid retaliating Crown Belts. He finally gave up and stumbled into his bench, head falling into his hands.

He made sure to memorize every scream, to soak it all into his mind and let the blood of it run over his soul. Those were his fault. He was letting that happen. He was letting his wife - his world - experience that, and the guilt was building up. That came with self-loathing, too.

"You disappoint me, Road-chan," the Millennium Earl muttered cheerfully, yet with that dangerous edge his tone took at times. "I'm afraid I've let this get out of hand. You will have to be punished."

The purple light of Dark Matter. Then,

"AAAAAAGHHHH!" Rhode screamed, and the shrill sound of it sunk into Allen's bones. Rhode had never, never made that sound before. She had screamed, cried out, shouted, yelled, squeaked, and squealed before, but that... Allen could hear the real pain of it in her voice. Rhode, in pain.

In an instant, the ice in his blood lurched to boiling. Roaring, Allen broke the door off its hinges and charged the Earl, Sword of Salvation already drawn. Crown Clown was by his side, and it suddenly lurched instead to Rhode. By surrounding her, it severed her from the Earl's magic, and her screams died out as she lost consciousness.

Allen had made a promise to never let Rhode experience something like that again. He promised, on his blood and life and existence.

Still Rhode screamed her pain.

Stained his soul? It very well sundered it to pieces.

What had to be hours later, when Rhode's musical voice had become hoarse from her screaming, it finally began to die out. Her body, concealed by the cloak, stopped shaking and laid still. Very still. Allen almost feared the worst, lurching to his feet with worry, when the cloak began to sink into her. As it had done to Yeeger, long ago.

Once the final traces of the cloak had finally vanished, Rhode was again visible. Though, she was not without change...

As Tyki had ended Joyd, and Jasdebi had ended Bondomu... Rhode had ended Road (1).

A grown woman lay curled on the ground. Her lithe form allowed the skirt to remain, though a now obvious bust and larger torso had left the blouse burst open to one final button. Physically, she had changed as well. Black hair, though as wild as Rhode's could have been, was fuller and longer. Her face was slightly different as well: an older Rhode, only with slightly higher cheek bones. Her body was more curvaceous than his Rhode's, though that was to be expected, given Rhode's locked age. Really though, with only some minor yet noticeable differences, she looked much like Rhode would if she ever grew up. Which made sense, given that Rhode was merely an echo of this woman.

Road appeared blissfully asleep, or perhaps even unconscious given what had happened. Allen knew the truth. A coma. Trapped in an endless dream. The Dream, of the Noah of Dreams. An aura of Dark Matter surrounded her, visible only to his now activated left eye. He had seen this before.

His wife had Awakened. Allen didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And his only source for help was a malevolent voice in his head bent on taking control. Allen knew it couldn't end well, yet peering at the grown woman left on the bed he and his wife shared, he felt it couldn't get any worse than things already were.

The Dream, the Fourteenth had called it. Compared to the Music he felt within. Compared to the Pleasure he had seen when Joyd first Awakened. Only Road could call herself out of it. Road, not Rhode.

Laugh or cry, laugh or cry, laugh or cry...

Yet, best case scenario and Road did call herself out - unlikely, the Musician had said, though possible - it wouldn't be his wife. Allen had to accept the bargain. He had to have his wife back.

Laugh or cry. He choked up something that could have been either.

Picking up the woman, Allen carried her to the couch and laid her down, followed by making her as comfortable as he could. The price had been heavy, yet it was worth every bit to have his Rhode back. It even gave him the bonus of being able to give Tyki his white sleeve back, now that he could do it on his own.

For a moment though, Allen peered down at the woman. For what she lacked in Rhode's cuteness, she more than made up in beauty. Her obvious similarity to his wife was blatant, and tugged at his heart. The one time he had spoken to her before was no help. An old fantasy played out in his head, where he lived out a life with her instead of Rhode. It was strange though, because the fantasy gave no sign of happiness or sadness, whether he would miss Rhode or see her in this woman. Still, he wondered.

Sighing, Allen prepared to seal away this Noah again, to have his Rhode back. No matter how much of Rhode he saw in this woman, it just wasn't enough.

Before he could even start, however, the door suddenly opened. Allen looked up at that, not knowing who to expect. The person took his breath away.

Ah shit, and, hell yeah, resounded in his head at the same time, the latter also coming in verbal form from the mirror.

Lustul, in all her sensuous glory, swayed in - the Lust burning deep in her eyes.


(1) Kind of important. Road is the only Noah with one name. Simply, Road. I prefer Rhode because it is more of a name, and it helps build the difference between these two. Road is her True Noah's name. The road to Dreams, if you will, or mayhap road to other dimensions (her door). All Noah names relate to them in some way, and that is how I see hers. So, while I believe Rhode's real name to be Road either way, I like having this visual difference. In this story, Rhode is the girl Road reincarnated into, like how Tyki is who Joyd reincarnated into.


AN: An update on my situation: Microsoft Word 2003 is gone, Microsoft Word 2007 bitch slapped me after a couple of runs, but now I have OpenOffice, and am very happy. Holy sharmony, people! OO is by far superior to MS 2007, only a little off from the greatness of 2003. My only problem with it, only problem, is the black box that encircles the text. That... irritates me, though something tells me that with a bit of fiddling I can get rid of it. If not, I'm fine with it anyways. Needless to say, I'm all set now, and capable of getting back to my writing. *Big, super happy face* This update came early in tribute to all of you who offered help, especially Heiryuu, knux33, and that anon guy who recommended OO (but all of you others, too).

In other news, next chapter is already written, though it won't be posted for a while. I'm spoiling you all too much with these updates. Should make you wait like... two weeks for a 3,000 word chapter like those other guys do. Anyways, next chapter was prolly the most difficult chapter to write in the whole story, and it certainly stretches my T restriction, though I don't know how you'll all like it (it's really up to the person and their preferences). Prolly one of the most crucial chapters in the story, too, and I feel like I butchered it. Well, bah! My story; I can do what I want!

:D