Please read Disclaimer in Chapter One.
Title: Maya's Tale (C6: Tea and Trouble)
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, General
Rating: K+/PG-13 (for anime-style fight scenes/language)
Summary: Across town, a serving of trouble coincides with a serving of tea.
A/N: I find Maya to be such a neat character: bold, adventurous, daring enough to reveal her heart to Minamino back then, yet still vulnerable and wholly human.
Idiot Beloved takes place shortly after the Dark Tournament; Firebird Sweet directly follows that timeline. In order for certain character development to make sense, you might read those fics in order.
"We'll stop her, any way we can!"
Maya's Tale (6: Tea and Trouble)
by
Kenshin
Ruth opened the door to find a rather breathless Kitajima Maya, clutching both her tweed coat and a manila envelope.
The girl's dear pretty face was pink with cold, and her thick brown hair in disarray from wearing that helmet. Her smile seemed frostbitten.
"Maya, dear!" Ruth exclaimed. "Please come in and take some tea. You look as though you could use it."
The girl darted a longing glance past Ruth's shoulder. "N-no, well, as it happens, I'm running a little late-"
"Nonsense." Olivia came to the door and drew the girl inside, then slid the envelope from her hands. "Your employer can't be that big a Bolshevik, can he?"
"Mr. Quicksilver? No, I don't think so. At least I hope not! No, it's just that-well, my appointment-"
Knowing with whom the 'appointment' stood, Ruth decided that Maya needed tea more than she needed punctuality.
She relieved the envelope from Olivia, drawling, "Oh, that'll be the vase." Between them, she and Olivia took Maya's coat, then herded her into the parlor without seeming to, seating her at a pouffy silk ottoman near the tea tray.
"It's sooo warm in here. And you have my favorites!" Maya beamed at the butter cookies arrayed on a Meissen plate. "Well, if tea's already made..."
Going to a desk in the corner, Ruth deftly slit the envelope with a letter opener and tipped out a series of five photographs while Olivia poured tea. "Thank you for the delivery, dear."
"Truth is," said Maya, "I'm freezing. This is the last time I wear a dress on the job!"
The dress was in medium blue chambray that accented the color of Maya's eyes, a little outdated in style, but still good. "Oh, but you look so nice in it, dear."
"Not sitting on Zuma at a hundred miles an hour."
"A hundred?" Olivia smiled. "Is Zuma really so fast?"
"Well, maybe not a hundred. But you know."
At the laptop, Ruth tickled a few keys, then brought the photographs back so Olivia could study them as well.
"I tried it yesterday," said Maya. "The dress, I mean. Hopeless. It's twice as cold today."
"Yes, a bit unusual for April," remarked Ruth.
"It's like spring is in hiding," Maya agreed.
Sipping tea, nibbling cookies, delaying Maya, the sisters pondered pictures. "Oh, that is a fine specimen!" cried Olivia.
It was a Sevres vase, in Old Paris green, footed, with a frilled neck, white raised scrollwork and a center floral motif. "And a very good price, I see," added Ruth. "Shall we?"
"I think so." Olivia and Ruth seldom acquired things to sell through mere photographs, no matter how detailed. "It will look splendid on the sideboard with seasonal flowers."
"Your garden is always so pretty!" Maya glanced at a photo of the vase. "This would be like bringing it indoors."
"Then we'll take it." Ruth went back to the computer and completed the transaction.
"And you, dear?" said Olivia. "Anything good to report?"
"There's this boy I knew in junior high," began Maya. Then she looked down and blushed.
"A boy?" Ruth hurried to the sofa. "Do go on."
"He contacted me a couple of days ago." Maya gazed dreamily around the room at nothing. "We're getting together soon."
"How lovely!" Ruth exclaimed.
Olivia gave them both a not-so-fast look. "What sort is he, this boy?"
Maya shrugged. "Who knows? It's been years and years."
"Well, what sort was he, then?" Ruth prodded.
"Cute, as I remember," said Maya. "Brainy."
"Cute and brainy," repeated Olivia.
"Now this calls for more tea." Ruth reached for the teapot.
"As a celebration, you know," added Olivia.
"I'd love to," Maya sighed, "but I really can't be late."
Olivia said, gently. "Dear, I was thinking-"
"-as was I-" echoed Ruth.
"-that maybe this seance business isn't for you."
Maya looked up from her tea. "But, Miss Olivia..."
"Now, dear, listen." Ruth took the girl's cold little hands and peered earnestly into her wide blue eyes. "About this Muktananda of yours. Don't you think a departed loved one wouldn't need any 'medium' through whom to speak? Wouldn't such a person be able to do it without a middle-man?"
"Oh, but Miss Ruth! I think you're wrong about that. Why, if you were at a party in a foreign embassy, say French or Sri Lankan, you'd need a translator, wouldn't you?"
"Not for French," Ruth replied.
"Nor Sinhali," added Olivia.
"Though perhaps for Mandarin. I find the inflections rather exacting."
"Or Basque," said Olivia thoughtfully. "I was never able to master the intricacies of Basque."
"Well, forget the embassy thing," said Maya. "Bad analogy. More like you're traveling alone in a foreign land."
"That's not what I meant." Ruth patted the girl's hand. "Now, my dear, if you will listen a moment-"
"Oh, the time!" With a half-panicked glance at the mantle clock Maya jumped to her feet. "Sorry! Gotta run. We'll get into this again, okay?" Bidding them both farewell, she bounded out the door, all but leaving a breeze in her wake.
Ruth heard Maya's little Zuma fire up, then putter down the street. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "We tried," she said, gathering the tea things.
Olivia rose to help her. "We shall try again," she said, with conviction. "We'll stop her, even if we have to lock her in the cupboard."
0-0-0-0-0
"Trouble?" Hiei repeated Kurama's warning. "Where?"
Some of the residents of the block were stirring, and Kurama didn't need binoculars to spot the gang of five young thugs. They were swaggering down the opposite side of the street, moving shoulder-to-shoulder in a wide-legged Yakuza stance, but they were not Yakuza.
One wore a red beret, and swung a length of chain. Another, his head shaven, carried a length of pipe over his shoulder like a baseball bat. The others probably had switchblades.
Shayla Kidd's teeth continued to chatter. Her obvious discomfort seemed to raise Hiei's level of anger. "Why'd that Toad bastard summon us here anyway?" he snapped.
No one had an answer, but Kurama was working on it.
He also knew that both Hiei and Shayla Kidd had a meeting today with a producer to discuss rehearsals for a music video, showcasing a rising young pop star known only as 'Zo.'
One eye on the approaching thugs, Kurama wondered if they would make that meeting.
"Don't feel so hot," mumbled Shayla Kidd. Her face was as white as tofu.
"Damn Toad."
"I don't think it's entirely Toad's fault," said Kurama.
Hiei bared his teeth. "It would soothe me to stick him."
"I think it's just that forsaken elevator," Kurama continued. Across the street, the gang drew closer. Five husky kids, out on a cold morn for easy pickings and a little mayhem.
"She should've eaten something." Hiei scowled at Kurama as though holding him responsible for Shay-san's condition. "Every time we land a job she thinks she has to drop five pounds."
Shay-san was still looking wobbly. With one eye on the approaching gang, Kurama assured her, "You are not in the least bit five pounds too heavy."
She gave him a weak smile. "You are a gentleman and a scholar and my new best friend."
The gang had spotted them. They were crossing the street.
"She's light-headed from low blood sugar," Hiei grumbled.
"I had some melon," she said. "You saw."
"The size of a fingernail."
Kurama interrupted. "As charming as it is to witness these little domestic scenes-"
"Look." Hiei gestured at Shay-san. "Is she fat?"
"No," Kurama replied. Though Shayla Kidd had her back to them, the gang was making steady progress, close enough now for Kurama to see that their faces were alight with happy malice. "Never. But-"
"Except when she was pregnant," Hiei amended. "Then it looked like she swallowed a Volkswagen."
Shayla Kidd got that gold-flame glare in her gray eyes.
In spite of the approaching gang, Kurama had to smile at Hiei. "You are nothing, Sir, if not a ledge-walker."
The thugs were ten steps away and picking up speed. The one with the chain swung it like a lariat, making it sing.
The noise must have drawn her attention, for Shayla Kidd glanced their way. That wash of gold fire rose until it gilded her eyes. Kurama had seen that look before.
He took a step back.
The thugs were on them. Hiei appeared to take no notice.
Eyes aflame, Shayla Kidd cranked herself around to face the gang and purred, "What can I do for you boys?"
The words of the Spellcaster hung in the frigid morning air like a bright little bonfire.
The punks stopped, blanching.
The one with the chain spoke. "N-nothing, Ma'am!"
"Not a thing!" added the bald one.
As one, the five hulking predators spun, and, like frightened schoolboys, fled back down the street, and in all likelihood, to their beds to pull up the covers.
And Shay-san hadn't even unfurled her Command Voice.
"Kids." She shook her head in fond exasperation.
Hiei grinned.
"Is there a cab anywhere?" Shay-san glanced around the now-empty street.
"I'll call one if you eat something," Hiei replied.
"Fine. You win."
"Well." Kurama forced a smile. "I'd better go hit the books." They went their separate ways, Kurama pondering the triple coincidences of Maya, thugs and Toad.
-30-
(To be continued: Dinner is served.)