2. In a dance from long
ago...*
"Ran has what?" Yuushi said in a loud
voice that made all three of his teammates wince in reaction.
"He has vanished on a mission and you
are being sent to investigate his disappearance." Queen said evenly. Sometimes
she'd wish that the Crashers team was made of less volatile individuals.
It looked like Pawn was just bouncing to get his two cents in and Queen
didn't expect that he was going to defuse the situation. In Ran's absence,
it had fallen to Naru to argue with the high strung Yuushi.
It's even worse than with Ran here.
He didn't use to do that…hmmm…maybe sexual frustration…?
"What kind of mission was it and what
was Abyssinian's last known position?" Bishop asked reasonably enough.
Though he looked every bit concerned as his two colleagues. All and all
this showed how much Ran had carved himself a place in Crashers in the
short time he had been with the team. Only Rook was fairly calm but then
it was understandable, the other three had known Ran well. Queen hoped
that the redhead would be found unharmed or Manx authority over the two
teams might be undermined or even severely compromised. The other agent
hadn't even clarified to Weiß why she had chosen Ran to infiltrate
the ring as he did.
"A sting operation against a prostitution
ring. Ran was the bait, he had been last located in the gang's main hideout
in 'processing' so to speak. They found the discarded tracer but not…Abyssinian."
"Manx ordered R--Abyssinian as bait.
What could she be thinking…?" Yuushi exploded before Queen could continue.
Oh, boy! And I thought it was going
to be difficult… Manx you better know what you were doing when you asked
that of Abyssinian or at least have a good hiding place for now…
The meeting dissolved into momentary
chaos as the rest of the Crashers restrained Knight from charging off to
find Manx with murderous intent in his eye. Though he eventually calmed
down enough to listen to reason, it had still been touch and go. The blonde
was still swearing imprecations under his breath throughout the remainder
of the briefing.
***
19th Century Scotland
"My lady Moira, can I have the
honor of refilling your glass…" Lachlan said, playing courtier to
the hilt. He knew well enough that he hadn't a chance at this latest beauty
but at least he could play the game as best as he could.
"Aye, Lachlan, you may." Moira Drummond
said to her latest conquest.
He didn't mind fetching her refreshments
for it at least took him away from her some of the time. The ball was turning
out to be a bore for Moira or so she complained. She hadn't been introduced
to good prospects for remarriage as of yet.
"Here y' go." Lachlan said handing
her a glass of red wine. Scottish to the bone, Lachlan boasted a head of
flaming locks and green eyes, the "normal" coloration. He felt complemented
Moira's dark looks. He felt easy with her at first meeting though she reflected
out loud within his hearing and often that he was a bad marriage prospect
being the second son of a second son so far back into the succession for
the Kierney duchy. He tolerated it as much as he could. Though no one looked
in askance at the widow of a lord who was not yet in the ground for six
months attending a ball, he wondered if Moira felt out of place. By convention,
she should still be mourning.
Or maybe not…
From first acquaintance he knew that
she wasn't one to follow the conventions and wait for a year to go husband
hunting. Her looks would certainly not last forever and she getting on
just this side of thirty.
Well, welcome t' the big city…
"Who's that girl? The one with the
Earl of McDuff?" Moira demanded as he returned with the requested refreshment.
No doubt annoyed at the competition…
"Why that's…that's my cousin the Lady
Dierdre Kierney, what does McDuff think he's doing! Rakehells like him
shouldn't be talking to young innocent ladies without their chaperones
about! Talking to her like that…why I have a mind to…!" Lachlan sputtered,
getting too wound up to speak properly.
If he thinks he's going to seduce
my innocent cousin he's got a thing or two coming…McDuff's not in good
odor with Kierney, it'll raise no eyebrows if I took this to the dueling
field…
Without further adieu, unheeding of
the dark haired beauty by his side, Lachlan started to stalk off to have
a word with McDuff. Lachlan had always felt protective over his young cousin
Dierdre for some reason or the other for as long as he could remember.
She was his favorite cousin, the one he treasured the most, though their
blood relationship was tenuous at best. He never questioned the loyalty,
as she was a rather bright influence in his life.
Dierdre was th' only one who had
tried t' talk to me when I had been almost sick wi' grief over my mother's
death an' all. And she was only a bit over ten at that time. She's so sweet
and kind even then…
He didn't fancy having the blood feud's
price taken out on her.
McDuff, you booby…I won't have you
sullying her with your filthy advances…
"Lachlan, you're going to cause a scene.
Why don't you introduce me to your cousin instead…" Moira said tugging
at his sleeve.
"Aye, what a good idea, it would have
been just as bad for reputation had I stormed into the conversation. Folk
would assume something was going on. So would you like to meet my cousin,
the honorable lady Dierdre Kierney?" Lachlan's teeth grind with the necessity
for subtlety and chagrin. He had forgotten about that.
"It would be my pleasure, good sir."
And then added under her breath, in their native brogue. "Lachlan, you
be owing me for this one."
And knowing you my lady, the owing
would cost me dearly…but it's a price well bought…
***
Aya woke up to warmth and a feeling
of disorientation. The bed he was lying in wasn't his bed in the Koneko.
It was softer and bigger.
"You're awake." A deep disturbing voice
said beside Aya. He blinked at the sound then everything came rushing in
on him in a blur of painful memory.
Crawford…The enemy has caught me
on a moment of vulnerability and brought into this place…
Aya didn't respond to the statement
as he assessed his condition. He ignored the man completely in favor of
flexing his muscles. His body seems to be relatively undamaged from the
night's activity. He even felt subtly relaxed by the night's exertions
though he felt some pain in his posterior. Strange his arms and legs were
free of the constraining chains. He tried to rise but found himself constrained
by a choke chain on his throat.
"Promise me that you're not going to
try to fight me and I'll give you more leeway." Crawford said, he seemed
apologetic about something.
That can't be right… Crawford's
a sadistic bastard. He certainly can't care how much he might have hurt
me last night. Or could he?
Somehow, Ran couldn't believe that
this wasn't all a trick of Schwartz. He glared into the ceiling, the only
thing he could focus on at the moment.
A sighed issued from the other side
of the bed.
"Okay, have it your way then. I'll
loosen the chain a bit to allow you to go to the bathroom." Crawford said
rising from the bed.
A slight hissing sound came from somewhere
above Ran's head. Ran tried to rise again and he did manage to sit up this
time though it seemed that there was a spring mechanism controlling the
chain for he had to tug at it but he did manage to get off of the bed.
He looked around.
The room was a large affair of blue,
white and silver. White walls with the bare hint of blue and silver traceries
on them stared back at Ran. The carpet was a plush affair of solid light
blue. The bed was a four-poster made of rich medium-brown wood with velvet
curtains and canopy in shades of blue, the bed had white silk sheets and
a quilt of blue and white. The in-set cabinets were of the made of the
same wood as the bed. The colors reminded Ran strangely of his room in
his old home before his parents' deaths.
"So, do you like it?" Crawford said
as Ran managed to limp a foot or so away from the bed in his bemusement.
This had the effect of snapping the redhead out of his reverie.
Ran spun around as fast as the tight
spring-controlled chain would allow and threw a punch at Crawford's face
which the precog dodged easily. The chain tension pulled him to the side
making him lose his balance. He tried to correct his fall but overbalanced
falling on his butt.
A muffled noise that sounded suspiciously
like a chuckle came from the bed. Ran gave the American who was sitting
on the bed's edge a death-glare to the face.
Unruffled, Crawford gave him a calm
look that seem to say "who me?" and looked disgustingly dapper in his fresh
white suit.
"Hn." Ran said, his frown darkening
every second.
"It's useless to fight me, Ran. This
is a secure stronghold of Estet. The bathroom is that way."
Crawford pointed out a wooden door
to the left.
Ran felt his bladder screaming for
help and decided to save what dignity he had left. He tried to get up from
the floor but couldn't. His fall had magnified the ache in his butt and
moving hurt too much.
"Stubborn." Crawford said getting a
darker death-glare for his pains. The precog came fast before Ran could
do more than do a tentative wiggle and scooped the redhead into his arms.
"Hn." Ran said objecting to the close
contact. He tried to squirm but Crawford's hold was just too secure to
be dislodged. He felt extremely vulnerable, as he lay there naked in his
enemy's arms though it was oddly comforting at the same time…
"I'm just trying to do you a favor.
After the way I treated you last night… Well, I do owe you one." The American
said politely, almost tenderly.
"Hn?" What's your game? Why are
you acting so decent, almost nice to me? You're Schwartz, I'm Weiß…
"I didn't really want to hurt you,
Ran."
That's a matter for interpretation…
"So why don't you let me go…"
"Never. You're mine, m'eudail*,
and this time I'm not letting you go." Crawford said in a hard voice that
brooked no argument. He was all Schwartz now, adamantine in his refusal.
That strange yet familiar word…
What does it mean…?
***
Crawford didn't know what had come
over him. First of all, he had taken Ran up into his arms when it was evident
that the redhead had not yet shaken off the effects of the night. And now,
he had staked a claim over the redhead. An unmistakable claim using a term
he himself didn't know the meaning of. He didn't know what it was that
made him say the word it just slipped out of his lips naturally as it had
been waiting there all his life for Ran to trigger it.
That word seems to feel right and
it bound him to me…in some way…? What is happening to me…?
Hiding his own uncertainty, Crawford
carried Ran into the bathroom.
***
"Where did you put the redheaded guy,
anyway?" Schuldich drawled to the receptionist.
"Oh that, he's in Crawford's special
suite. And--"
"And I'm not allowed within two meters
of that door right now."
"Hai, Schuldich-san."
Schuldich knew that the girl had been
unnerved by this show of his powers but he didn't care. He had long wanted
a taste of the Weiß redhead. Ever since he had met Fujimiya, he had
felt connected to the youngster. Though being a worldly man he didn't believe
in coincidences or déjà vu. He had ever since concluded that
he had come to lust after the Weiß redhead at first sight. In fact
he had been seriously contemplated doing something about it for a long
time.
He wasn't even a man then…now why
is that sentence oddly striking. Possibly because I'm not normally attracted
to young boys…
***
19th Century, Scotland
Moira eyed every male in the room with
predatory interest. There were few bucks worth troubling over tonight,
mostly young lordlings, second or third sons. She did recognized Rory of
McDuff but she didn't put her hopes up. Everyone knew the earl to be an
irrepressible rake, he and his cousin Lord Randulf Sherringham would hardly
look to a widow for marriage and to be seen with such a man would cause
too much talk.
Hardly worth the risk, they'd probably
want a young unsullied, inexperienced girl who they could blindly lead
by the nose. Well, not me sirrah…But who's that redheaded girl with him…?
Moira had inquired of the girl's identity
from her escort as innocently as she could, though her heart was beating
hard upon her breast. This had produced unanticipated results, diverting,
as they might maybe. She needed to see to the competition -- that was all.
Someone as innocent as Dierdre Kierney
who can attract the notice of the rakes surely bears watching…Competition
indeed…
Or so Moira had thought at the time.
She found out otherwise that night.
-*-
Delicate hands caressed Moira, ghosts
on her skin. Shy lips on her breasts going lower and lower. Long silky
hair brushed against her stomach, tickling and tantalizing. She arched
into the caress moaning. Heavy breasts pressing down on her thighs. A moist
tongue went into that secret place that her husband had never fully heated…Not
at all like this. She felt her body was on fire.
"Hmmm. I love you…" Said a contralto
voice.
Startled, Moira looked down into a
pair of purple eyes and woke up in shock.
No, no, no, sweet God, no, not this
again… I thought I had gotten over this sort of devilry…
Moira sat up, panting in shock and
unfulfilled desire. She had felt like this more than once in her maidenhood
towards girls and it disturbed her greatly. She had found ways to send
them far, far away from her. The chambermaids had been easy to deal with,
she merely asked that they be reassigned according to her caprice. Those
of noble blood were more difficult to dispose of. Intrigue was a chancy
business but she learned in a hard school.
I’ll be ruined if this ever comes
out…*
***
Schuldich remembered the Fujimiya assassination
very vividly. They had found the boy as they were sifting through the rubble.
He had wanted to keep lovely youngster for fun and games but that was forestalled
by the untimely arrival of others at the scene of the explosion. Time had
not dulled his obsession.
Besides, he's more attractive now
than ever… Now that he has gained an edge to his looks…
The softer boyish features Schuldich
had so admired had filled in with time and hardship. They were now those
of a man of cold, lethal beauty with a grace that made him seemingly one
with his katana. A killer with pretensions of nobility and righteousness
but still a killer, a sensual predator. It was something the German admired
and it made Abyssinian more desirable than if the latter had kept his innocence.
The trench coat was annoying it covered way too much, Schuldich'd preferred
to have been there at the Human Chess arena when Fujimiya had worn less
concealing clothing. Though that orange sweater horribly clashed with the
red hair it was at least more revealing. Then Schuldich had found some
pics of the Weiß leader in an old porn site and wondered no more.
Such a hot body, muscled but not
overdeveloped…Wow…The sensual poses seem so natural for him but then he
must hide a passionate side under that icy façade, he was certainly
blowing hot enough about his sister and Takatori.
Unfortunately, it seemed that their
oh-so-mighty leader had decided to claim the luscious redhead all to himself.
Hmmm, I'll just have to see about
that…Oh, there are ways and ways to get around it…But how to make it so
that boss-man doesn’t suspect me…?
~TBC~
Author's Note:
* Another line from the song "Always
Come Back to Me" by Natasha's Brother and Rachelle Capelli from the animated
movie "The Nutcracker Prince".
* m'eudail - beloved in Gaelic, I got
this from the Barbara Cartland's book the Pretender (No, no, not the TV
series ^__~) and confirmed it on the web on this page:
http://www.higharch.demon.co.uk/leaflets/columba/columba2.html
*Victorian repression of homosexual
behaviors, it's illegal, not to mention bad for your reputation if you
were caught at that era:
http://www.xrefer.com/entry/365530
*Trivia or the things I do for this
fic, *rolls eyes* I've gone to this site by chance:
http://www.bellaonline.com/society_and_culture/historical_culture/victorian_culture
/articles/art980038998798.htm
And it made my blood run cold. Don't
you folks know that all that Victorian women own were technically her husband's/her
fiancé's and she can't even escape an abusive spouse without being
dragged by the police back? Though if it were I in America I'd stick around
since most states then didn't have any laws permitting divorce from a murderous
spouse. I'd try to poison my abusive husband and inherit his property instead!
He can't escape me after all. Oh, where are you, honey? Hehehe.
*Greek names Source: http://www.gabwhacker.com/xwp/bluequill/names.html
Greek homosexual practices: http://www.bway.net/~halsall/lgbh/lgbh-marriage.html
http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/pwh/sacredband.html
http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/pwh/greekeros.html
