\AN/
I forgot to mention at the end of the last chapter that yes, I did pair up Eliot and Zoey, cause I'm a die-hard RxI fan! XD
Also, there wont be anymore Mews until the second arc, and chapter 18 is the start of Arc 2. I hope you all can be patient enough until then. ^-^ And when Arc 2 happens, they'll come pouring in.
I also want to thank Chiharu sooo much for editing this for me. Love you Chewy! XD
Chapter 13:
Nearly Mewsposed
"But this is a girls room," Kita complained. The Mews were gathered in the staff's lounge along with Eliot and Wesley. The girls were trying to defend their space, Patrick stood to the side not wanting to get in the way, and Amaya sat on the couch watching TV.
"It's called the staff lounge," Eliot emphasized, folding his arms over his chest.
"But how can we change when he's here?" Kotona sighed, putting her hands on her hips.
"You can work out a system," Wesley suggested with an optimistic smile.
"But don't you guys have your own personal change room?" Aneeta asked. "He can change in there. Besides, we don't have a urinal in our bathroom."
"We'll have some installed then." Eliot shrugged.
"EW!" the girls shrieked in unison.
"Eliot, how long are you going to keep this up," Wesley snorted.
"Keep what up?" Kita demanded, her mouth hanging in disbelief.
"Wesley, I had 3 more minutes of material left," Eliot chuckled.
"So he's not going to be in here?" Kotona asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, he'll be using ours." Wesley smiled.
"Yes!" Kita and Kotona cheered, dancing in a circle.
"That's too bad," Tiffany sighed. "I wouldn't mind watching him get changed." Patrick's face went beet red when she winked at him.
"Quit that," Aneeta warned in a hushed voice. Tiffany stuck her tongue out immaturely as Eliot headed toward the door. Wesley and Patrick were close behind him.
"We'll be opening in 20 minutes," he said over his shoulder. "Make sure you're ready by then."
"Eliot is such a brute," Kita huffed, opening her locker. "Getting us all worked up over that."
"Maybe he likes torturing us." Kotona shrugged, taking her hair down and letting it fall out of the ponytails they were once in.
"Check this out guys," Amaya called, turning the volume up on the television.
"...The attack happened yesterday afternoon at a local car show. The robot in question was the van of the owner of the popular cafe Mew Chi Lou, Eliot Grant. Investigators were left stunned by how the car was able to transform, and Grant stated he had no idea that it was able to do it. He had bought it from a local car dealer, and the investigation will continue farther from there..."
"I wonder if the cockroach showed anything," Amaya muttered, turning the volume down again.
"He would've told us if he did right?" Kotona wondered, slipping off her skirt.
"I hope he would," Aneeta sighed, slipping into her cafe uniform.
"It's Amaya!" Kita gasped, pointing toward the TV again. The TV was showing a slow motion of Mew Icing's attack on the robots chest, popping it out.
"How'd they get that footage?" Tiffany gasped, leaning over the couch to look closer. The camera zoomed up closer on her face, but the image was blurry.
"...Images of this footage as well as previous ones are being analyzed for facial recognition. Officials want to find out the true identities of Nagoya Mew Mew so they can bring them in for questioning, and find out their part in this ordeal..."
...
The girls quickly shoved on their missing pieces of clothing and dashed out of the room.
\NMM/
"Cafe Mew Chi Lou." He smiled, adjusting his glasses. "Oh how I've waited to expose you." He stood outside the cafe with a camcorder in his hand. He contemplated whether or not to stir their peace, but from the sounds of it, it sounded as if they were already stressed.
"And what ever for?" he thought out loud as he made his way over to a window and turned on his camera.
\NMM/
"ELIOT!" the girls screamed in unison, bursting into the kitchen.
"What's going on?" Wesley asked, topping off a cake with special icing.
"They're running face reignition anals on us!" Tiffany shrieked.
"Recognitions Analysis," Kita corrected, rolling her eyes. "Their running a facial recognition analysis on us."
"That's what I said," she snapped.
"Their zooming up on our faces from the footage and scanning them," Aneeta explained in further detail.
"You needn't worry about that," Wesley smiled. "I already hacked into their servers and messed with the video feed. They'll never be able to get a proper analysis."
"Really?" Kotona sighed in relief.
"Eliot already thought about them attempting one." He nodded. "We're always one step ahead."
"Good going Wesley!" Tiffany grinned. "You come through again."
"No thanks for me?" Eliot asked, sounding offend as he entered the room.
"No," the girls replied in unison.
"This tie is chocking me," Patrick gagged, following close behind.
"Nice threads." Kita smiled, giving him a thumbs up.
"Th-thanks," he stuttered as he scratched his head and stared down at the floor. His uniform consisted of a plain white dress shirt, a silver vest with burgundy stripes, and a burgundy tie. His pants were silver too, his apron was white and only covered his thighs and his shoes were black—similar to the ones the girls wore with silver shoelaces.
"Alright, stop standing around," Eliot ordered. "The store will be opening soon."
"Hey...what's that?" Kotona asked, pointing toward the back window. Their heads all spun in unison, but when they looked no one said anything. Well, all but one.
"Stop him!" Eliot shouted, bursting out the kitchen.
"Go round back!" Wesley ordered. "Make sure he doesn't get away!" Amaya had already taken off before Wesley had finished his sentence. The others followed her without question. They ran out the back door and around the building to see Eliot in close pursuit of someone in a pair of rollerblades with a camcorder in his hands.
"He was filming us!" Tiffany gasped. The guy was in a hoodie that hid his face as he sped away, pulling a great lead on Eliot. With a frustrated shout, Eliot slowed down to a stop, allowing him to get away.
"He got away!" Kita shouted. "He got away with footage of us! He was filming our conversations!"
"Perhaps it was him who handed the media the film of the robot," Amaya sighed, not bothering to chase after him either.
"You think he'll turn in that film?" Kotona asked worriedly.
"Probably," Aneeta sighed.
"What if he filmed us while we were changing?" Tiffany shrieked. "That perv!"
"There's no windows in the lounge," Kita said, rolling her eyes at her.
"What do we do?" Kotona asked, looking at Eliot... Worried when he walked up to her and the others.
"There's not much I can do," he sighed, scratching his head. "I can see if the cafe cameras got a look at him, but even if they did, he was wearing a ski mask."
"What can we do?" Amaya asked, folding her arms.
"You can keep an eye for anyone suspicious that might come into the cafe from now on." He nodded. "He'll probably show up again in plain sight."
"So now not only are we on alien lookout, but stalker lookout too." Aneeta nodded. "I'm down."
"I don't need this," Eliot grumbled to himself, heading back inside without another glance at them.
"He's distracted," Patrick thought aloud.
"He hasn't told us a lot of what we're dealing with." Kita nodded. "He's keeping it all to himself. We should interrogate him. This time more than 20 questions, and we're not gonna let him skip any."
"We'll think about it later," Amaya said. "Right now we gotta focus on the problem at hand. He'll tell us when he's ready."
\NMM/
"You've still found nothing?" Dlender growled in exasperation. "How can you still show up empty handedly?"
"I'm sorry," Maken replied, lowering his head. "It seems it has been hidden better than we anticipated."
"I don't want excuses!" she shouted, angrily throwing her hand out in rage and zapping the wall just above his head.
"D-Dlender please," he pleaded. "Please save your strength."
"You are in no place to be telling me what to do," she snarled. "I want it! And I want it now!"
"You're doing it all wrong." Rinya waltzed into the room uninvitedly, earning scolding glances from both Maken and Dlender.
"You were not called to this audience," Maken spat.
"I know, but I thought it'd be only my sworn duty to help out Mistress Dlender," she replied, bowing. "I must first apologize for looking through your belongings. It was there I discovered the truth behind its meaning." Dlender looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be furious or to be pleased. Rinya was a complex individual, and she seemed to always be swinging from useless to useful faster than Dlender could comprehend.
"Proceed with you finding." Dlender nodded. Maken made a face, and Rinya grinned triumphantly.
\NMM/
"Patrick can you bring these to table 4?" Wesley asked, handing him two full trays of cakes, ice cream and milk shakes.
"U-uh, okay," he replied, trying to find his balance. The cafe was a lot livelier than he expected.
The Mews quickly scattered to resume their jobs, and Patrick managed to scramble to his feet right as Eliot came up to him.
"Maybe delivering to tables isn't your forte Twinkle-Toes," Eliot said, scratching his chin.
"He could just take orders," Aneeta suggested, walking by with a tray of dirty dishes.
"Or maybe clear off tables?" Kotona spoke up, passing by with a jug of juice.
"Or he could greet people at the door!" Kita shouted, zipping through with a tray of various slices of pie.
"You could try all of those and see where you work best." Eliot nodded thoughtfully. "I don't want you almost making a mess of things, and having the girls clean it up for you." Patrick flinched in offense, but didn't say anything. It was his first day on the job after all, and he didn't want to get fired.
So he tried out the different duties of the cafe. He tried clearing off tables and carrying the dishes to the kitchen, but that was just as successful as bringing trays out. He took a few orders, but his nerves always got the best of him when it was a group of girls he was waiting on. He stuttered, and even dropped his pencil a couple times from shaking. Then he tried greeting people at the door. Well, he still had nerves, but he was able to get a lot more giggling girls to come. It seemed those who were already inside called or texted their friends, letting them know about the new change in staff the cafe had.
"It's packed today," Kotona groaned, dropping off an empty tray.
"There's a long waiting line!" Tiffany gasped. "Sweet momma, how long do I have to take this?" Kotona grabbed a note pad and passed by her without glancing at her. Tiffany blinked in confusion.
"What did I do?" she asked Wesley, giving him a weird look.
"Um...I'm sure she'll be fine later on," he replied, giving her a half smile. Does she really forget things that easy? he wondered to himself. The phone rang, so he finished arranging the ice cream scoops before answering.
"Cafe Mew Chi Lou, how may I help you?" he asked, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he began slicing bananas. "Oh yes, one moment please." He put the knife back down, and covered the receiver in his hand as he looked out into the dining area.
"Oh, Aneeta!" Wesley called as she walked by. "You have a phone call."
"Really?" she asked, looking confused. "Who could it be?" She reached for the phone through the pass-through and put it to her ear? "Hello?"
"Hey Aneeta."
"Jeremy!" she gasped in delight. "Wow, hi! How's Sapporo? How'd you do in the tournament?"
"I managed to come in second in my division," he replied proudly. "The team came in third overall."
"That's so wonderful!" Aneeta grinned, gripping the cord with her free hand.
"Yeah, the coach is taking us to celebrate tonight. We'll be heading back for Nagoya at about ten, so we'll back about nine."
"I thought it only takes nine-and-a-half hours to get back," she said, making a face.
"Well, we're going to be making stops, and who knows what the traffic is going to be like."
"True." She nodded. There was a small silence that Aneeta wasn't sure how to fill.
"I miss you," he said suddenly.
"I-I miss you too," she replied, blushing.
"I'll call you when I get back, if that's okay."
"Of course," she replied a bit too fast.
"All right, I'll talk to you later," he said brightly. "Bye."
"Bye," she said, blushing furiously as she hung up the phone.
"That was Jeremy I'm guessing." Wesley smiled, sliding his chopped bananas into a bowl.
"Yeah." She nodded. "He's coming back tonight."
"That's good to hear."
"Aneeta back to work!" Eliot snapped, coming into the kitchen. She turned back to the dinning room with a mocking look on her face.
"There's a suspicious character in the corner of the room," Kita said, creeping up to Aneeta. Aneeta followed her outstretched hand to a boy sitting with a menu standing up in front of him, looking around casually. He had buzz-cut blue hair, and perfectly square glasses.
"Every time Tiffany goes over to take his order, he asks for a couple more minutes and gives her a flattering flirty compliment," Kita reported. "Pretty suspicious if you ask me."
"Or maybe he just likes flirting with Tiffany." Aneeta shrugged.
"He's done it 5 times though!" Kita shouted, flailing her arms. "I think we should report it to Eliot."
"How about someone else goes and talks to him," Aneeta suggested. "Then if he does the same thing, I'd think he was stalling for time. Then we can tell Eliot."
"Then go," Kita urged, pushing her in his direction.
"W-why me?" she stammered.
"It's your idea." She shrugged. Aneeta huffed and straightened her apron before going up to him.
"Are you ready to order now?" she asked with a smile, taking out a notepad.
"No not yet Sugar," he replied, not looking at her, "but I—Oh." He had turned his head and noticed she was a different waitress. "Uh, actually I am," he nodded, looking down at the menu. Aneeta smirked. See, just flirting.
"I'll have a large slice of chocolate cake," he began, scanning the menu. "A large strawberry flavoured coffee with whipped cream, cocoanut cream pie—two slices—a banana split with extra chocolate..." Aneeta blinked in astonishment at what he ordered.
"That's it." He smiled innocently.
"Okay..." she replied, not looking back up at him. "I'll bring this as soon as I can."
"Take you're time." He winked. She didn't notice because her eyes were still glued to her notepad. Slowly, she made her way back to the pass through, where Amaya is giving Wesley dirty dishes and grabbing an order.
"What's wrong?" she asked before leaving.
"This guy... Has a ridiculous order..." she said, finally looking up.
"What does he want?" Wesley asked making a face.
"Some stuff that's not even on the menu." She ripped off the paper and handed it to him to look over.
"Strawberry flavoured coffee..." Wesley whispered, his face going pale.
"Yeah, weird huh?" Aneeta nodded, putting her hands on her hips.
"That's not a bad idea actually." Amaya shrugged. "I'd try it."
"Where is he sitting at?" Wesley demanded, slapping his hand on the counter and peering out into the dining room eagerly.
"Um...over there," Aneeta said, making a face at him. She turned to point in his direction but froze. "He's gone!"
"No!" Wesley shouted, running through the kitchen and nearly knocking the food out of Amaya's hands. Everyone in the dinning room stopped to watch him race toward the front door.
"Patrick, did a man just walk out of here?" he demanded, grabbing him by his shoulders.
"U-uh don't know," he stammered, eyes wide in shock. "There's s-so many people, and girls keep grabbing my arms..."
"Of course he left," Tiffany gushed, skipping over. "He left me a nice tip."
"Where did he go?" Wesley growled, rushing out of the store.
"Wesley what is it?" Tiffany asked, running after him. Patrick pushed past the growing line of girls so that he could follow.
"What did he look like?" Wesley shouted, looking down the street frantically.
"Blue hair, square glasses, glowing green eyes..." Tiffany listed.
"What color were the glasses?" he asked, turning to stare her down. Tiffany flinched under his gaze. She's never seen him like this. No one had since they started working there, and there must have been very few things that could make him act this way.
"They were gold..." she replied in a quiet voice, hoping that didn't send him into a mad rage. To her relief it didn't, but he did look a lot angrier.
"You know him?" Patrick asked.
"Course I do..." Wesley groaned, feeling helpless. Clenching his fists, he marched back into the cafe, and headed straight for the basement. Patrick and Tiffany followed him while the others handled the confused customers. When he passed through the kitchen, he paused for a second to see Amaya continuing his work.
"Thanks," he replied in a small voice before heading down the stairs. Amaya had only nodded in response, continuing to make the orders as fast as they were coming in.
"It was him!" Wesley shouted in anger when he reached the bottom.
"Who?" Eliot asked, spinning around in his chair.
"And it was him from earlier I bet too," he continued on, pacing in endless circles. "He's always been able to sneak past security without even trying."
"Wesley, who?" Eliot demanded, standing up. Wesley held out the boy's order in his face, Patrick and Tiffany watching as Eliot's expression changed to shock.
"He probably made that footage too." He nodded. "The one from the Car Show."
"Who is this 'he' you keep talking about?" Tiffany asked, playing with her hair.
"He goes by many names," Eliot sighed, running his hand over his face. "But we still don't know his real one."
"But who is this guy?" Patrick asked again. "Like who is he to you?"
"A pain in our backside," Wesley grumbled, crumbling the paper in his hands.
"You memorized that stuff already, right?" Eliot asked, lifting an eyebrow with concern.
"Of course." He nodded, trying to sound calm. "Photographic memory."
"So what are you guys going to do exactly?" Tiffany asked, scratching her head.
"We're gonna answer him of course," Wesley growled. "I can't believe he'd ask for such a demand."
"A demand?" Patrick asked, making a face, "but didn't he only order food?"
"It's a code he uses," Eliot explained. "He's used it for years. He uses it as a signature."
"Why does he do that?" Tiffany wondered, making a face, and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I mean, what's the point of having a code if no one understands it?"
"We do," Wesley answered, finally stopping and leaning against the wall. "I've studied it for years, and I finally understand it. He's taunted me for years with it, but I'm now catching up, and I'm almost able to respond right away. If I had only been a second sooner... I would've been able to catch him this time."
"So what does he want this time?" Eliot asked, sitting down again.
"He dropped off a tip," he replied, closing his eyes. "He said that something is going to happen at the banquet tonight."
"You don't mean the Kim Sterling Banquet do you?" Tiffany gasped.
"You know about it?" Wesley asked, opening his eyes again.
"Only fashion disasters and rejects don't know what the Kim Sterling Banquet is!" she shouted, completely appalled. "It's the biggest get together of models, fashion designers, and companies. Only the finest are invited to represent, and fans like me only dream of getting in. It was started by Kim Sterling himself fifty years ago, and they continue it in his memory."
"And you two are now on the guest list," Eliot informed, turning away from the computer.
"What?" she and Patrick shouted.
"We learned even if it is a trap, to never ignore his warnings," he explained. "So you two are going undercover."
"Oh my gosh!" Tiffany squealed, jumping up and down. "I feel like one of Carly's Bangles!"
"Uh, you mean Charlie's Angels?" Patrick corrected.
"So do we get gadgets?" she asked ecstatically, ignoring him.
"You're a Mew," Eliot pointed out. "You got all you need, but MAL will accompany you."
"Sweet." She grinned.
"I-is it just the two of us?" Patrick asked, taking a step away from Tiffany.
"Yup," Eliot nodded. "So take care not to get in too much trouble."
"Ooo, so it's like a date!" Tiffany smiled, batting her eyelashes at him.
"You guys are under the names Mia Wells and David Pine," Eliot said. "You don't need to worry about tickets, since they will be checking on the guest list anyways."
"I'm gonna go shopping right after work!" Tiffany giggled. "This is gonna be so much fun!" Without warning, she through herself at Patrick, hugging him tightly and causing him to turn a deep shade of crimson.
"Just be sure to keep a low profile," Wesley instructed. "But be on the lookout for a man in gold glasses."
"W-won't you guys come too?" Patrick stammered, finally able to pry Tiffany off without hurting her.
"We might make an appearance." Wesley shrugged. "But I doubt he'd be there."
"You just worry about stopping whatever it is that's suppose to happen from happening," Eliot said. "And don't tell the other Mews about this. We want little people to know about him as much as possible."
"Understood!" Tiffany smiled. "I'll just tell them I scored a date with him." She giggled again, and skipped up the stairs.
"Don't worry." Wesley smiled sympathetically patting Patrick on the back. "She's like this with every new guy she meets."
"I just hope she finds someone new soon," he grumbled, heading up the stairs after her.
\NMM/
"Guess what?" Georgia chimed, gliding into the house.
"What?" Aneeta and Jay asked in unison. Aneeta was washing dishes while Jay was working hard on his bookwork report.
"I have 4 tickets to the Kim Sterling Banquet tonight." She grinned, waving the tickets enthusiastically.
"That's so amazing Mom!" Aneeta gasped. "We all get to go?"
"Yes," she said, sitting down across from Jay. "I'm covering it for the magazine. I managed to pull a few strings and get a few more tickets."
"Our names are on the guest list though right?" Jay asked. "This girl in my class was saying even if you have a ticket, you gotta be on the guest list."
"I have Georgia Rolls + 3." She winked. "So where's your father?" The two of them fell silent.
"Working?" she asked, frowning.
"He got asked to create a commercial for this new shaving cream," Jay replied in a quiet voice. "He even gets to create the slogan this time." Georgia sighed heavily, looking intently at the tickets in her hands.
"Why don't you invite one of your friends?" she suggested, motioning toward Aneeta. "Would one of them like to go?"
"Um..." Aneeta hummed, thinking. "Kita isn't really one for fashion... Kotona won't be allowed... I don't really talk to Amaya much... Tiffany's on a date with Patrick..."
"Kotona must be really mad huh?" Jay asked, looking concerned.
"Since when do you keep up with her friends?" Georgia asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I hang out there a lot." He shrugged.
"You should try Amaya though." She smiled. "I'm sure she'd love to go."
"Um, sure." Aneeta nodded. She went into the living room to find her backpack where her Mew Phone was. Makoto lifted his head from the couch as she entered and watched her intently.
"Yeah, tell her about this thing and I'll tell her about her shoes," Aneeta threatened, flipping it open. She pressed a few numbers and called Amaya's number.
"Is something wrong?" Amaya asked, her voice emotionless.
"Um, no, everything's cool," Aneeta replied, suddenly nervous.
"Then why call me on this?" she demanded.
"I-I didn't know how else to get a hold of you," she explained. "My mom had an extra ticket to the Kim Sterling Banquet. She wanted to know if you wanted to go."
"I'm already going," she replied bluntly. "Is that all?"
"Um, yeah," she stammered.
"Then goodbye," Amaya said, but paused. "I'll see you there then."
"Okay." Aneeta smiled, happy about her attempt to be nicer. She quickly slipped her phone into her bag and went back into the kitchen.
"She's already got a ticket," she said, stacking dishes.
"Hmm..." Georgia sighed, tapping her chin with her finger. "I don't want to waste this ticket... How about Jeremy?"
"He won't be back until later tonight," she pointed out with a smile.
"Let's bring Makoto!" Jay grinned.
"Sorry dear," Georgia laughed, "but I'm afraid animals aren't allowed." He pouted and looked down at his papers.
"How about that Ammara girl?" Jay suggested, quickly looking back up again. "You're friends at school right?"
"Um, yeah." She nodded.
"Yes, invite her," Georgia agreed. "She's a nice young lady."
"Okay!" She smiled, scurrying off to the living room again, but to grab the normal phone this time.
\NMM/
Adjusting his tie awkwardly, Patrick looked at himself in the mirror. He had a fancy-shmancy suit on that Wesley loaned him, and a tie that made him feel like he was choking. Why me? he groaned. I just had to follow Wesley downstairs. He was stuck going on an undercover operation, trying stop something he had no clue about, not to mention his 'partner' was more focused on him than their obective.
"Patrick!" Tiffany shouted impatiently from the other side of the door. "This is an event I do not want be fashionably late for. Hurry it up!" Sighing, he turned around and opened the door. Tiffany was strutting around in impatient circles, wearing a stunning green dress that hugged all her curves and showed a little too much cleavage.
"MAL!" The little doll flew up in his face, nearly knocking him over.
"Wow, you look very cute." He smiled, shaking her outstretched paw.
"MMM." She blushed. She wore a dark blue dress that was very sparkly, and her hair was combed into a mini bun.
"I actually do have gadgets for you guys," Eliot said, coming out into the kitchen carrying a case. "Just small microphones. Tiffany, yours is in a necklace, and Patrick, yours will be in your pocket hanky."
"My what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Eliot popped open the case, and inside was a necklace with a red jewel embedded in it shaped like a paw print and a white napkin.
"You can't be serious!" Tiffany gasped. "You expect me to wear that tacky thing? I'm going to be among fashion gods, and you expect me to wear this people repellant?"
"At least you don't have a snot rag." Patrick sighed, tucking the white napkin into his suit pocket.
"Just make sure you don't loan it to anyone to whip stuff up with," Eliot advised, adjusting it for him. "The microfibers are imbedded with microscopic electric wires."
"Enough nerd-talk." Tiffany sighed, tying the necklace around her neck. "Let's get this show on the road."
"LL!" MAL shouted, flailing her arms in front of Eliot's face.
"Sorry sweetie, nothing for you," he said, patting her head. "You already have a microphone installed in you."
"Why are you even letting us bring her?" Tiffany asked. "You don't like her leaving the cafe."
"I'm just trying to be cautious," he explained. "We aren't even sure what we're up against, and MAL has the highest level of alien detection on Earth. If it's aliens we're dealing with, she'll sense it for sure."
"Sounds good to me." Patrick nodded.
"You know how to drive?" Eliot asked, tossing him a set of keys.
"Not on this side of the world." He blinked in surprise.
"You'll get use to it." He shrugged. "You have the silver one outside the cafe."
"Sweet." Tiffany grinned. "Riding in style! Let's go!" She grabbed Patrick's hand and dragged him out of the cafe as fast as her heels would let her.
"You get us in?" Eliot asked, as Wesley soundlessly entered.
"Of course." He nodded.
"Time to find out who this guy is."
\NMM/
Tiffany was ready to jump out of her skin. She couldn't believe she was here. Actually here. The Kim Sterling Banquet. The ceiling was decorated with a dozen huge, extravagant chandeliers, tables were set up all over the place, but left the central area clear. Perhaps someone will do an exclusive fashion show, she thought. Or maybe someone famous will sing! Or some huge news will be announced! Oh my goodness, if anything happens, I'll be one of the first to know! While she was fangirling in her mind, MAL sat snug in her purse, pretending to be stuff. She hung out of it though, imitating a purse dog.
Patrick walked around quietly, following Tiffany as she pointed out all the famous people she knew. He wasn't really one for fancy gatherings, especially huge ones. All these people were standing in groups with wine glasses in their hands, taking about the new spring line, or the next big thing in shoes.
"What is that?" a perky man asked, pointing to Tiffany's purse.
"Um, well, it's a MMMALORY," she stammered, staring at him with wide eyes. "It's a MMMALORY Doll. All capitals." Probably recognized him, Patrick thought.
"It's so cute," he cooed, touching MAL's hair. "It feels so real. Where can I get one?"
"Sorry, but there's only one of these in the world!" She smiled, proudly, taking a sip from a glass that hadn't been her hand a second ago. "You like?"
"Of course." He smiled. "It's better than a fake purse dog. Let me tell you, having a real one is such a hassel. You could end up getting their little poopies in your wallet."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," she giggled. "I'm Tiffany Lachwood."
"Jamie Hardly." He smiled, shaking her hand.
"I know," she squealed. "I'm such a big fan of your designs. I have three of your purses at home. I would've worn one, but I didn't have one big enough for MMMALORY here."
"Well, if your doll ever goes into style, I'll for sure design purses made specifically for its size." He grinned.
"Oh, wow that would be amazing," she gasped. "You wanna talk details?"
"Right this way," he replied, leading her over to a nearby table. Great, Patrick sighed. She blew her cover by telling him her real name, she's not even paying attention to our mission, and she's planning on selling MAL world-wide. He went over to the refreshment table to get something to drink. He didn't want any wine that the waiters were carrying around. Punch would suffice.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?" a guy asked him when he walked up to pour himself some punch.
"Um, sure." He shrugged. The guy looked like a model. His face was well defined and looked like a guy girls would swoon over.
"You think that girl over there would go out with me?" he asked, motioning to the other end of the table. Patrick followed the direction, and nearly choked on his drink when he saw who he was pointing at. It was Amaya. She had her hair up in a tight neat bun, and wore a slim, strapless black dress that went down to the floor with a slit on one side.
"I-I, uh, think, she uh, might," he stammered.
"Think she's out of my league?" the guy asked. She's definitely not in mine, Patrick thought.
"You never know." He shrugged. "You never know unless you ask..." He was telling himself that more than the guy.
"Yeah I guess so." He smiled. "Thanks man, I'm Grey."
"Patrick." He nodded, shaking his hand. Ah, damn it, he cursed silently. Gave him my real name. Oh well. He took a big gulp of his punch as he watched Grey walk up to her. He tried not to be obvious, but he watched them. Amaya's face stayed neutral the whole time, which didn't help Patrick out at all. Her face was always neutral. It took only one syllable for Grey to finally stop talking to her and come back over to him. Amaya quickly glared after him resentfully, her eyes connected with Patrick's only for a split second. She quickly turned her back on him, but he could've sworn she saw his eyes widen in surprise.
"No luck," Grey sighed, getting himself a cup of punch.
"Sorry to here that." Patrick nodded.
"Perhaps she's playing hard to get." He shrugged. "I don't really go along with games girls play. Don't feel like getting mixed up in all that."
"Trust me, it's not just you," Patrick sighed.
"You talk to her?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Um...yeah." He nodded, wishing he could take that back. "I work with her."
"What do you guys do?" Grey asked, looking interested.
"We aren't in the fashion industry or anything," he said hesitantly. "We work at a Cafe."
"So how'd you get in?" he asked, making a face.
"Our boss has... Connections."
"That's cool." He smiled.
As they got into small talk, Wesley and Eliot entered the room. They had listened to everything Tiffany and Patrick had said thus far, but so far found nothing unusual.
"I'll circle around this way," Eliot said, adjusting his tux. Wesley nodded and headed in the opposite direction. He kept his eyes peeled, looking at every guy he passed to see if they were wearing the "golden glasses."
"Looking for someone?" asked a soft voice. Wesley looked down at the young woman who was looking him up and down. She had bright red hair in a fancy up-due and wore a short, flaring pink dress. She had dark skin that matched her dark brown eyes.
"Yes actually," he replied casually. "An old friend, haven't seen him in a while actually."
"Good luck, this place is flooded with people," she laughed lightly, taking two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. She offered him one.
"Thank you." Wesley smiled, taking it, but wasn't interested in drinking it.
"My name is Bianca," she introduced. "Bianca Whiles."
"Wesley, he replied simply, his eyes scanning the crowd. "I'm sorry, do you mind..." He gestured before him.
"Not at all." She shrugged, moving forward when he did. "So what do you do?"
"I bake," he replied, not looking at her. "I run a cafe."
"Oh really?" She nodded, looking quite interested. "I like cafes."
"Yes, they are quite amazing. What do you do?"
"Many things." Bianca smiled, but he didn't catch the mischievousness of it. "I work a lot, travel a lot, but once in a while I like to rest and just relax."
"Yes, relaxing is good," he agreed, taking a sip of his glass.
"You're only hearing half of what I say aren't you?" she laughed lightly.
"Um, what?" Wesley asked.
"Exactly." She smirked. "I think you should chill, and enjoy the evening."
"I'd love to, but I'm actually needed somewhere," he replied, placing his glass down on a random table. "It was very nice meeting you Miss Whiles."
"You remembered my name, so I guess that's good," she laughed. "And it's Ms. actually."
"I'm good with names." He smiled before leaving her behind. Bianca slipped her hand into her purse and clicked a small device.
"Wesley, I'm picking up psychic interference," Eliot said urgently through Wesley's earpiece. "It's coming from your end."
"Psychic?" he replied, confused. "How could there be psychic interference?"
"I don't know, but if we don't hurry soon, everyone in this room will be asleep, and who knows what's going to happen after that," he said urgently. "I'm heading your way." Wesley looked around frantically, desperate to find someone with a pair of golden glasses. So this is what you want? he thought, grabbing a waiter, thinking he saw shine on his glasses, but they were blue. This is how you plan on doing it. That boy earlier wasn't you. You are only one of few who plan on exposing us, but I swear you will not be the one to do it... His train of thought stopped when he tripped and fell forward, skidding his elbows. I'll find you... he thought, drifting off to sleep.
\NMM/
"Miss Lachwood, Mr. Takanora is on the phone. He wants to discuss your fall line," a secretary buzzed through her intercom.
"Tell him that I'm not going to share my secrets," Tiffany giggled. "This is something I'm keeping to myself until I release it for the public."
"Yes Miss Lachwood," the secretary replied. Sighing, Tiffany leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the desk. Life was absolutely perfect. She was the head of her own clothing line, and the head editor for her own magazine company. She even did modelling on the side! She was currently single, but she dated many goodlooking and wealthy men to last her a lifetime. But of course she wanted enough to last many lifetimes. Spinning around in her chair, she stood up and looked out the glass window that took up one entire wall of her office. It gave her a beautiful view of Tokyo, the sun setting below the horizon. Nothing can break this serene peace, she thought, taking in a deep breath. She had jinxed herself, for as soon as she said it, a giant mutated wasp zoomed up from below.
"What?" Tiffany gasped, taking a startled step back. The wasp created a high pitch irritating sound which shattered the window into a million pieces. Tiffany ducked and shielded her face as pieces flew past her.
"So you like making harsh sounds huh?" she asked, taking out her pendant. "Well two can play at that game!"
\NMM/
Patrick grunted as he brought his hand up to his head. It was throbbing in pain. He looked around and found himself sitting in an open field, just like the fields back home in Connecticut. How'd I get here? he wondered, glancing up at the quarter horse grazing beside him.
"Are you okay?" a concern voice called. It was a girl's voice. He turned to see who it was, but a pair of hands grabbed his head and was moving his hair around to examine the damage. It felt nice having her move her hands through his hair, but he couldn't help but blush deeply.
"You can see straight right?" she asked. "You fell pretty hard. Never thought I'd see you get thrown off a horse."
"It wasn't the first." Patrick shrugged. "And it wont be the...last." He was completely shocked to find himself staring at a concerned-looking Amaya.
"Well be more careful," she ordered. "You could end up getting a concussion or something."
"Y-yes ma'am," he stammered. He didn't realize it, but they were speaking English and not Japanese.
"Okay." She smiled, kissing his head. "There, all better." His face was on fire now. W-what is she doing? he thought. T-this isn't her...
"How about I go get sunshine, and we can go for a ride down the trail," she suggested, sitting down beside him, "and I can bring a lunch. We could stop in that clearing by the stream. The grounds relatively flat there so—" Patrick carefully raised his hand and put it against Amaya's forehead, making her lean back.
"What are you doing?" she asked, making a face.
"A-are you feeling okay?" he stammered. "Or maybe it's me." He put his other hand to his forehead. "I did hit it hard..."
"I'm fine Silly," she giggled, removing his hand, but holding it in hers. "So no picnic? Okay. We could go back to the house. I'll make something there, and we could watch TV...Why are you staring at me like that?"
"You're not real," he said quietly. It was true. The real Amaya wouldn't show this much expression, and she most certainly wouldn't be wasting it on him.
"Of course I am," she protested, looking hurt. Seeing her look like that made his chest ache, but he wouldn't believe it. No matter how realistic this was, it wasn't real.
"No, this must be a mind trick," he said shaking his head. He quickly got to his feet and took a couple steps back from her. "I'm sorry, but I got to leave. I gotta take care of something." Amaya stood up and stared at him with a hard expression. Now that's the Amaya I know, he though. She then smirked, a strong wind blowing her hair all around her face.
"You're pretty fast," she remarked, digging into her pocket. "The others are still trying to figure it out what's so wrong, but are living their dreams as if they were reality."
"So it's a dream." Patrick nodded, understanding the situation. "So shouldn't it fade now that I know it isn't real?"
"For once, you don't control your dream." She smirked, putting on a pair of gold glasses. "I do." The ground around him caved in, causing him to stumble back and nearly slip off the small patch of ground that was left for him to stand on. "Can't have you running away now can I?" she laughed, floating on midair.
"So you're 'him'," Patrick said, narrowing his eyes. "Wesley was right about this being a trick."
"Not a trick." She smiled. "He knew what was going to happen, it was all in the instructions."
"Instructions?" he repeated. "But Wesley said you gave him a warning."
"Yes, but a warning of what I wanted." She nodded. "And now I have it."
"And may I ask what that is?" he asked, folding his arms. She smirked evilly and began floating away.
"I only asked for two, but I got four Mews at a huge event covered by the media," she explained. "Won't it be amazing when they catch their transformations on tape?"
"No!" he shouted, feeling completely useless. She can't make me transform, he thought. Nothing can... He took back his words when the endless hole around him began to fill up with water rapidly.
"Oh no," he groaned, stepping back from the edge. To make things worse, he saw a few fins break the surface of the murky liquid.
"The only way to get out is to fly," he said out loud, hesitantly reaching for his pendant.
\NMM/
With a finally push, MAL was able to finally pull out of Tiffany's purse. Giving herself a good pat down, she surveyed the damage. Everyone in the room was asleep, all but one. MAL hid behind a centre piece and watched a woman with dark red hair and dark skin make her way around, messing with TV cameras. She turned them so that they pointed in different directions. Curious, she hovered from table to table, getting closer to see what she was doing. There was nothing special about the table she pointed one camera at. It had Aneeta, Jay, their mom and some other girl... MAL felt a familiar jolt, but ignored it, determined to fix this.
She followed the woman to another camera where she pointed it at Patrick, who was out cold on the floor. She was beginning to see a pattern. Instead of grabbing another camera, she slid Amaya down so she was sitting next to Patrick, and both of them were in the camera's line of sight. She also realized that they were gripping something in their hands, something that radiated Mew energy. Panicking, she finally realized what she was doing. By having them transform in their subconscious, they would transform in reality. And if caught on tape, they'd be caught...
"LL!" she shouted, zooming out of hiding as the lady turned a camera on Tiffany. She looked up in alarm, but then smiled in amusement.
"You must be their new toy," she said, looking her over. "You really are a cute little thing."
"MM! LLL! M!" she shouted, shaking her paw at her.
"Sorry, but I won't stop what I'm doing." The woman smiled, understanding her perfectly. "You'll just have to deal with it. Wesley and Eliot had this coming for a very long time you see. Don't worry, they won't get in trouble, but they won't have the element of secrecy. They took away mine, now I'll take away theirs." She reached into her purse and pushed another button, which turned the cameras on.
"Have fun." She smiled, strutting. "Oh, and if they do end up making cute purse dolls of you, I'll be sure to buy one." MAL's face flamed red in fury. Desperate, she shot over to Tiffany and shook her arm.
"MM! MMM!" she cried, pulling at her hair. Nothing she did woke her up. Shaking in fear, she hurried to the centre of the room, trying to think of something to do. She thought of thousands of solutions in a few seconds, but most of them were cancelled out because of her size and strength. Being an android, she did have a drive inside that stored extra energy in case she short circuited and needed an extra boost. A brilliant idea popped into her head, and she knew it was the only way.
Concentrating, she sent as much energy into that drive as she could, overflowing it. Her body shook as it tried to compensate for the lack of energy flowing through her. It then became too much and she stopped working, but the drive kicked in, shocking her with the access energy. The shock was so great that it sent an electromagnetic pulse far enough to disable all the cameras in the room. Satisfied, MAL sunk to the floor, preserving the energy she had left.
\NMM/
When Amaya woke up, the room was dark, the only light coming from the street lights through the windows along the one wall. It was only a dream... she thought, tears streaming down her face. Why? Why did you have to die?
"Amaya?" someone said, touching her shoulder. She flinched away in surprised, and stared in horror when she realized it was Patrick.
"Are you okay?" his eyes filled with concern. She turned away from him and quickly got to her feet, leaning onto the table for support.
"Amaya-" She didn't wait to hear what he had to say. She hurried through the darkness, stumbling into people as they moved around with confusion, nearly falling her face a couple times. The tears in her eyes didn't help her sight any.
"I don't want to live like this anymore," she sobbed to herself. On the other side of the room, Tiffany was looking around for MAL frantically.
"MAL!" she called. "Oh my goodness, if you can hear me answer!" People must of thought she was crazy for calling out to a doll, but she didn't care. If she lost her, who knew what Wesley and Eliot would do. She must have cost them a fortune.
"Looking for this?" a familiar voice asked. "Looking up, she saw Eliot cradling MAL in his arms.
"Oh thank goodness!" she sighed in relief. "Why is she sleeping?"
"EMP," he replied. "She stopped the cameras from exposing the Mews."
"What a brave little soldier," she cooed, petting her hair.
"Oh, and if they do make MMMALORY Dolls, I expect to get 60% pf your profit." Eliot smirked.
"Oh no you don't," Tiffany gasped, looking at him in disbelief. "You would get like 20."
"55," he haggled.
"30," she huffed.
"40."
"45!" she shouted, catching people's attention.
"Deal." Eliot nodded, and shook her hand.
"Ha!" She grinned. "I win." Eliot rolled his eyes. I'd like to see her run a business, he thought. Wesley stood up and ran his hands over his face. Again... he thought. Again he got away. I'll never catch him... He turned to make his way toward the exit when he saw Bianca watching him intently. He made a face as he watched her reach into her bag and pull out a pair of glasses. His breath got caught in his throat when he realized the color. He tried to push his way through the crowd. Not again, he thought, finally making it outside. He huffed and scratched his head, staring down at the ground. He then noticed a yellow piece of paper stuck in the side walk. Curiously, he squatted down and picked it up. His eyes widened as he read it.
"It was nice to finally meet face...to real face."
\AN/
Disclaimer: I do not own any references I have made in this fic.
Honestly, I have no clue how kendo tournaments go. XP Sorry. If anyone does, I'd love it if you explained the tournament system to me. =)
Also, it's becoming a bit harder to come up with phrases I can use for titles with "Mew" in it. So if you can think of any let me know. :)
Preview of Chapter 14:
The Mews Go Marching
Kita – No fair! I missed out!
Aneeta – You didn't miss out much, we only fell asleep.
*Patrick stays silent*
*Tiffany runs in with MAL and a piece of paper*
Tiffany – You aren't going to beleive it!
Kotona – You got a date with a male model?
Tiffany – I wish, but that's not I want to say. They are actually gonna make MMMALORY Dolls!
Patrick – No way.
Tiffany – Yes way. And I get to design all her accessories.
MAL- MMM! LL!
Tiffany – And MAL will be my model.
Kita – That's actually cool.
*Amaya enters looking pissed*
Amaya – That stupid model is here to see you again
*All girls look at him*
Patrick – He's a friend...
*Quickly leaves before he's interrogated*
Tiffany – You mean there's a sexy male model here in the Cafe?
Kotona – You are dating my brother, I got dibs!
*Kotona and Tiffany race each other out*
Kita – Tiffany still doesn't care doesn't she?
Aneeta – Nope.